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muchosbesitos · 5 months

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omg your miguel stories are tew good plz stop encouraging my obsession💀 but just in case you dont wanna listen👀... is there anyway you can do a one shot of miguel being like a laid back sugar daddy/just spoils the absolute shit out of us without giving a fuck PLEASE🙏🏾

anywaysssss love you and i wish you all the best<3

million dollar man

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

contents: age gap (reader’s in college while miguel’s in mid thirties), handjob, and semi-public fingering

author’s note: i loved writing this request sm so thank you for allowing me to indulge 😩 wishing you the best too <33

word count: 4.8K

The rules of the website had practically imprinted in your brain with how many times you reread them- no cat-fishing relationships or scams, no low-quality photos, and to not be abusive. The rules seemed pretty simple but you couldn't help but hesitate to accept the terms, your hand hovering the cursor. "Oh fuck, just click it already," you mumbled to yourself, accepting the small box on the right corner of the screen after a couple seconds of hesitation. Your screen flooded with what seemed to be hundreds of older men, most of them actively seeking out for a sugar baby in exchange for some kind of service in return.

You'd been wanting to sign up for a sugar daddy website after noticing how empty your pantry was, a couple ramen packets sitting on the counters collecting dust. While you knew that you could be living much worse, you couldn't help but want more than eating the same food everyday. With the amount of student debt that you were crumbling under, you couldn't afford to make extravagant purchases. The job that you had managed to sustain you for your basic needs, but you were tired of simply just floating above the debt line. You found yourself with the desire to have more.

You decided to accept on the terms of the website and set up a profile, but you couldn't bring yourself to explore the options available. You stepped aside from the computer, rubbing over your eyes as you debated the reality of the situation.

You didn't have much time to regret your decision though, your phone alarm ringing with the reminder that you had to be getting ready for work soon. You shut off your computer, deciding to face the consequences of your actions at a much later time when you weren’t running late. After putting on the uniform for the ice cream shop that you worked at, you made your way out the house out to the parlor.

"I don't really see what the problem is with having a sugar daddy. You deserve more than what this place pays," one of your coworkers, Luna, told you as the two of you cleaned up the spoons from the previous shift. "You don't think I'm being a gold digger by doing it?" You asked her, wanting to get some kind of reassurance about the doubts that'd been clouding your mind since you'd joined the website.

She shrugged, walking over to take the order of an elderly woman that walked in. "If they know what they're getting into, I don't think it constitutes as being a gold digger. They know that the relationship is purely transactional," she responded to your question after the woman stepped away with her vanilla cone.

Her words rung through your mind as you sat down in front of your computer after getting off work, deciding to explore the options that were available. Most of the names shown on the website were some of Nueva York's most prominent businessmen, their name plastered onto some of the most successful buildings in the state.

You'd expected for most of the profiles to be senile men who were in the middle of a life crisis, instead getting men in their mid forties to sixties. Your nose scrunched up as you clicked through some of their profiles, most of them coming up as married with the description of 'wanting discreet fun.'

You were about to give up on your search for the night when you stumbled upon a profile of a man in his mid-thirties, one of the youngest men you'd seen in the fifteen minutes of scrolling. Miguel O'Hara. His profile revealed to you that he was divorced, his description being that he sought out for someone to spend time with in exchange for monitory compensation, a clear difference between his profile and the others you'd encountered.

To say that he was an easy swipe right was an understatement, your finger almost snapping off from how fast you clicked on your mouse. Not only was his persona more endearing than those you'd encountered, he was one of the more handsome men you'd had seen. You didn't think too much of the swipe, your eyes widening in surprise as you got the notification that it was a match.

You spent about a week talking to him about what could be expected out of the arrangement before he suggested that he take you out to a dinner. His reasoning behind the spontaneous date was that he simply wanted to see how the two connected outside of text, get a feeling of what type of person you were. As you waited for the day of the dinner to arrive, you couldn't help but be filled with anticipation and excitement.

You'd even gotten up early the day of to plan out your outfit ahead of time so you wouldn't have to do so after class, choosing to wear a pair of jeans that weren't too distressed with a black top. Scenarios of how the dinner would go riddled your mind throughout the day, your focus of what was on the board diminishing with every second that you were in the classroom.

You showed up to dinner half an hour late due to the subway not arriving at its designated time, easily finding Miguel through the crowds of people. not only was the tallest one in the room, he was also the one with the nicest attire in the place. The black button down shirt he had on accentuated the bulging muscles underneath, the material flexing to fit around him perfectly and the black slacks that he had on fit his legs to perfection.

You caught a whiff of his cologne when he stood up to shake your hand, the pure scent of him reeking of money. He pulled the chair back for you, waiting for you to take a seat before he sat back down. You couldn't help but notice how well he filled out the seat, the pure presence of him almost demanding to be seen.

"Sorry I'm late, the subway got delayed," you started off, wondering just how long he'd been here waiting for you to show up. "While I do appreciate punctuality, I understand," he responded, handing you one of the menus from the table. You picked up the menu, noticing that none of the prices were on there but rather just what the meals had to offer.

A waiter came by a couple minutes later to take the orders, Miguel ordering steak with mashed potatoes and a red wine. "I'll just get the grilled chicken with water, please," you told the waiter, handing them your menu along with Miguel’s. They nodded and stepped away, the only sound at the table being the classical music playing throughout the restaurant.

You looked down at the plate of food dumbfounded, wondering how exactly it was that rich people got full. You were half expecting for the waiter to announce that it was a prank, to come back and fill up your plate. Upon realizing that the two bites that were placed on your plate was the whole meal, you reluctantly took a bite out of it.

"So, the terms of our arrangement would be pretty simple. I'd provide you with the funds that you deem appropriate and you would provide me with your company. I'm not expecting any kind of sexual favors in return, but I wouldn't be opposed to it if you had the desire to," he told you, his tone casual as if he were just having another business arrangement. You almost choked on the water you were sipping, setting the glass back down.

"So what you're saying is that you don't want to have sex with me unless you and I wanted to," you repeated back to him, raising a brow as he nodded. "Do you mind if I ask why?" The question came out of you without much thought, his brows furrowing in exchange. You thought he wasn't going to respond to the question as his silence turned deafening, the room seeming to rise in temperature with every second that passed. "I’m looking for this certain kind of arrangement because I know what to expect from this. My daughter passed away a couple months ago and it helped me to realize that no amount of money that I have will keep anyone next to me," he responded after a couple of minutes, his words coming out with a certain kind of precision as he spoke.

You stayed quiet as you let the words stick in your brain, wondering just what exactly it was that made this man so closed off to the world. You wanted to ask him more questions, but you figured that they weren't appropriate for the setting or the arrangement that was being discussed.

"I'd start off with giving you a short allowance for now, $500 a week just to get you started. It'll increase the more that we spend time together, a little bonus if we have to show up to an event together. Obviously, iId take care of the expenses of your outfit," he added, his red eyes boring into yours like they wanted to see through your very being. “That all sounds very promising, but I think I need some time to think about it if you don't mind," you finally spoke up, watching as his eyebrows bunched up before he nodded.

"You look unsatisfied by the meal. Was it not up to your liking?" He asked after you finished up with your meal, placing a couple hundred dollar bills on the table. "No, the meal was good. thank you," you told him, giving him a tight smile as you got up from the dinner table once the waiter came over to the table. "So if it was good, why do you look unhappy?" He pushed the question further, his eyes locked on you as the two of you headed out of the restaurant.

"Like I said, there wasn't anything wrong with the food. the portions were just a bit.. questionable," you responded, your voice dropping towards the end like you were admitting something taboo. You were expecting for him to protest after what he'd just paid, not the small chuckle that escaped from his lips.

Miguel took you to a burger joint in Brooklyn, stating that 'no other place could do it quite the same.' You'd ordered yourself a burger and fries along with a milkshake, Miguel getting the same thing as you. "Thank you for saying something, the whole meal felt like an appetizer," he told you as the two of you sat down with your trays, the juiciness from the burger looking more inviting than the piece of chicken you'd eaten earlier.

"How do you rich people put up with eating like that?" You asked him, almost moaning at the taste of the burger once you took a bite. "Most of them do cocaine if I'm being frank. I normally don't eat out unless I need to so it's few times I have to subject myself to that," he explained, watching as you stole some of his french fries with amusement.

Despite the initial awkwardness that'd been present throughout the dinner, you couldn't help but enjoy talking to him as the night progressed. His dry humor was something that you were growing to like, the way that he seemed to have a response for everything that you asked/told him.

He was honest and direct, not in a way that he used to excuse what some might deem as 'rude', but in a way that seemed genuine and vulnerable. He'd taken you home after the two of you had finished up, saying that it was too dangerous for you to be taking the subway alone at this hour. You watched as he pulled out of your house, a small smile on your face as he drove away.

The doubts about the arrangement crawled back into your brain once you were alone, absentmindedly reaching over for your laptop and signing in. You weren't sure what exactly it is that you sought out for, maybe some kind of reassurance that he wouldn't get bored with you or start expecting for you to act a certain way around him.

You opened up your browser, deciding to read a Reddit thread about the experiences that some others had as being sugar babies. While some of them described the experience as something pleasant, a few posts lingered about some other girls that had a bad encounter with their sugar daddy. You decided to close your computer after a couple minutes, coming to the realization that Miguel was nothing like the men described in those awful experiences and the decision to say yes had never been so obvious before.

You weren't sure when it was that you started seeing Miguel as more than a provider, seeing him as someone that you cared about beyond what he was giving you. He'd kept true to his promise, his daily allowance now being $700 with the time that the two of you spent together. You'd started to seek him out for the littlest things that you had to do, such as going out on grocery runs or going out for lunch.

When you'd asked him to go to the grocery store with you, you'd managed to deny the growing attraction that was slowly starting to build up by simply telling yourself that you were using him since he was able to reach the top shelf. But the more that you gave a thought about where the relationship between the two of you was headed, the more that you were certain that you couldn't live with yourself if he wasn't present in your future.

You went over to his house after feeling overwhelmed with your final exams coming up, hoping that he would just be able to spare a couple minutes and hold you. "What's wrong?" He asked once he opened the door, exhaustion and anxiety coating your features. "I just need you," you responded back to him, his face softening just the slightest bit before he opened the door to let you in.

He guided you over to his couch, his hand wrapping around your shoulders as he stroked your upper arm. The two of you stayed silent for a while, simply staring at the fireplace ahead of you. "I hope I didn't disturb you," you spoke up, knowing how busy he was.

"You could never disturb me. I like having you around, you're more tolerable than the people I work with," he responded, his thumb lazily drawing circles on your arm. "I'll take that as a compliment," you murmured, leaning against him as you felt the combined heat from his body and the fireplace lulling you into a sense of peace and security. "You should. What's got your little head all worked up anyways?" He inquired, the flame from the fireplace flickering in his eyes as you looked up at him.

"I have finals coming up. And I can't really afford to fail, otherwise I'll get my scholarship taken away. I don't know, I guess I'm just anxious knowing how much is on the line," you told him, realizing just how silly your concerns sounded out loud. “I can help you out if you’re really that stressed out about them,” he suggested after a couple seconds, the movements on your arm coming to a stop. "How about this. if you pass your finals, I'll take you on a little trip to Cabo to celebrate. We'll go on a mall spree beforehand to get you ready."

True to his word, Miguel had the tickets set up for the weekend which you would be done with finals. He'd been the first person that you told about passing them, hearing him say that he was proud of you felt like an even bigger accomplishment especially after he dedicated some of time towards helping you review.

"I knew that you could do it, you're so smart," he'd told you once you shared the news with him, his big arms enveloping you in a hug as he held you close to him. It was the first time he'd hugged you, the feeling strange to the both of you as he did. The act felt unpracticed, something he hadn't done in a long time with the way that his arms awkwardly wrapped around you. Despite that minor detail, you felt invincible as he held you like nothing could touch you.

"I'm thinking about getting my nails done. Which set do you think would look better?" You asked, handing him your phone with the Pinterest board of designs you'd saved. He grabbed his glasses from his case, putting them on the bridge of his nose as he peered down at your phone.

"Isn't it all the same just in different colors?" He noted, scrolling through your phone as he tried to find a difference in the multitude of designs you'd saved. "There's somewhat of a difference in there, it's pretty subtle since I just tend to go for what i'm familiar with," you responded, putting on your seatbelt as you waited. The two of you were heading out to the mall, but you'd come up with idea of getting your nails done after getting in the car.

Miguel ended up liking a simple red design with some gemstones on the pointer and ring finger so you gave the reference photo to the lady doing your nails. You watched as she put on the gemstones with precision, your eyes flicking over to Miguel as he waited for you in the lobby.

If he was uncomfortable in this setting, he didn't show it as he scrolled through the People magazine available. You turned your attention back to your nails, an idea sparking up in your head as she started to put on the final touches to the gem design. "Do you mind putting an initial on my ring finger?" You asked her before it was too late, waiting for her to agree before you told her what letter you wanted on there.

Your hand rested on his pants as he drove, his eyes flicking down to the design and slightly widened as he noticed the small 'M' on your ring finger. "What'd you do that for?" He asked, his attention turning back to the road after a couple moments of shock. "Figured it would be a nice little detail since you were so generous in paying for them," you responded, sliding down his zipper with a bit of difficulty as you adjusted to the feeling of the acrylic once more.

You watched as he let out a shaky breath, his eyes remaining on the road ahead. "I'm driving," he warned you as you started to palm him through his boxers. "So keep your eyes on the road, Miguelito. Just feel," you reiterated, your hand squeezing around his cock slightly. “Ay Dios, nos vas a matar.” (oh god, you’re going to kill us)

You watched as he retrained himself as he drove, knuckles starting to turn white from how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. You picked up some of the precum leaking out through the tip of his reddened cock, lathering all over the shaft as a form of lubrication. Your hand moved with ease up and down his semi-hardened length, his cock getting harder with each tug that you gave him.

He let out a small hiss as he felt one of your nails brush up against the underside of his cock, the area a bit sensitive for him. He'd pay for your nails hundreds of times over and over if it meant he got to see them wrapped around his cock with his initial on them.

You pulled your hand once Miguel was nearing the mall, drying your hand of the sticky residue with a piece of tissue paper he had in the glove box. "Now you decide to stop?" He asked, maneuvering his way into the parking lot with such ease, parking in reverse in what seemed to be mere seconds. If it were up to you, you would've taken about twenty minutes to do the task before eventually giving up.

Your attention went back to the bulge in his pants, his cock still hard from your previous ministrations. "Well, maybe you'll get more motivated to get out of the mall now," you suggested, getting out of the car as you dusted off your attire. Miguel rolled his eyes as he followed behind you throughout the mall, his hand making the slightest contact with yours.

You stumbled into a Gucci store after a while of walking through the mall, immediately drawn into the designs of the bags. You looked around, one of them in particular catching your eye. The design of the bag was beautiful yet simple, a black leather handbag in the shape of a heart. Your eyes widened as you looked at the price tag attached, your hands making quick work to return it to the shelf.

Before you could get the chance though, Miguel grabbed your hand and turned your attention to him. "What's wrong with the bag? You don't like it?" He asked as he looked at you, expecting for some kind of reasonable answer. "No, there's nothing wrong. it's just expensive," you responded, avoiding eye contact with him as you stepped away from the shelf.

"Well, how much is it?" You heard him ask behind you before you got the chance to walk away too far, his hands reaching up for the purse. "It's almost five grand and that's not including tax. It's fine, I don't need a pu-," you started off but you got quickly interrupted when Miguel called over a sales associate to get him the bag from the back. "I thought you said it was expensive, mi cielo," he simply stated before he went off to check out with the associate that had the bag in a dust bag, taking his black amex card from his pocket as the transaction processed. You stood behind, watching as he paid for the bag with seemingly no hesitation.

The rational side of you threatened to come out, wanting to tell him that he could be spending those five thousand on something other than a bag, but you pursed your lips and watched the scene unfurling in front of you. You remembered the whole point of why'd you even joined the sugar daddy website, wanting the opportunity at having nice things.

"You may not need a purse, but your eyes practically lit up when you saw this one. I'm here so you don't have to resign to that disappointment that you've grown used to," he told you as the two of you walked out of the store, his hand resting on the small of your back. “Well, thank you. I really did like the bag,” you told him, leaning up to give him a small kiss on the cheek. You walked around the mall, eyes glancing around the different stores before eventually walking into Nordstrom.

You picked out a couple pieces for the trip that you'd need, such as a couple dresses, skirts, and bikinis for the warm weather you’d be exposed to. Miguel went with you to the fitting rooms, sitting down on the couches outside as he waited for you to finish up. You'd changed into the shirt and skirt that you'd pulled into the dressing room, looking at yourself reflected on the body-length mirror.

You couldn't deny that the skirt made every part of your legs look good, from your thighs to your ass. Even though you were confident that Miguel would end up liking it, you still decided to call him in to get his opinion. He opened up the door as discretely as he could, glancing around to make sure that no associates were nearby as he stepped inside.

You couldn't help but let out a small laugh as the giant of a man in front of you was rendered speechless, eyes raking up and down your figure as he took you in. "Te ves tan hermosa dressed like that," he finally spoke up after a couple seconds, his hands wrapping around your waist as he held you close to his body. (you look so gorgeous)

You weren't completely sure what the first part of his sentence meant, but you could guess that it was something good based on the tone of endearment that he used and the way that he couldn't keep his hands off you. "Can you be quiet for me?" He asked, looking at you through the mirror as his hands splayed on your stomach. The question sounded more like he was telling you to be quiet, so you simply nodded along and watched him sit down on the small stool.

Miguel placed you down on his clothed thigh, your legs spread out for him as your back fell flush against his toned chest. His hand made his way down your body, your skirt being pushed up as he did so. He cupped your clothed cunt, the expense of his hand capturing most of it.

"You look so pretty when you're all like this. All needy and just for me," he murmured into your ear, one of his hands holding you in place as the other one slid the black pair of panties you'd chosen to wear. One of his fingers went inside your cunt, the tightness of your walls engulfing it completely as he pushed it deeper inside of you. Your slick coated his finger as he opened you up in a way that only he could, reaching places that even some of your toys couldn't reach.

"Excuse me, but do you need some help in there? you've been in there for an awful long time," an associate called out, knocking on your door. Your eyes widened at the prospect of getting caught in this position, a small muffled gasp making its way out of you. "No, the dress is just stuck," you called out, hoping your voice didn't come out as needy as it sounded to your own ears.

"Well I can come in there and help you out. Sorry, it's just that we have a line forming," the associate told you, her hand coming to the doorknob and slightly shaking it as if she were trying to open it. Her attempts failed since the door was still locked on your end, the rattling of the knob stopping a couple seconds later.

You were half expecting him to remove his hand, but his fingers remained deep inside of your cunt as he looked down at you. "You weren't playing fair in the car so why should I have to play fair?" He spoke just low enough for you to hear, a hint of amusement as he spoke. You struggled to keep your voice even as you spoke, resisting the urge to just go ahead and let a moan rip out.

"Uh no, thank you though. It's just a zipper but it's almost off," you told the sales associate, letting out a small sigh of relief as the clacking of her heels retreated from the dressing rooms. Miguel pushed another one of his fingers into your cunt, moving them in a scissoring motion before he curled them upwards to reach that spot inside of you.

Your toes curled and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt his thumb make contact with your clit, the nub already starting to stimulate just by the touch of his finger. You felt your clit throb against his fingers as he rubbed small circles on it, the rhythm in sync with the fingers he was pushing inside of you.

Your back flushed against his chest as you felt yourself getting closer to that sweet release of euphoria, your shaky breaths and whimpers getting muffled as you pressed the palm of your hand against your mouth. Just as you were approaching that all too familiar release, Miguel pulled his hands away quickly.

You were about to protest before remembering what you'd done in the car, the words dying in your throat as you got up from his lap. "Touché," you mumbled as you started taking off the clothes that you'd been trying on, watching as he wiped his hand off on a handkerchief. Miguel covered up your body with his as he stepped out of the dressing room, closing the door quickly afterwards.

"Sorry about that, she called me into help her with the zipper. stupid thing wouldn't budge," you heard him speak outside, surely talking to the associate who must be growing impatient with every second that you spent inside. You stepped back into your clothes, carrying the choices that you'd picked out as you went to go join Miguel at the checkout line.

Needless to say, the attire that you'd showed Miguel proved to be a definite yes. He gladly paid for the rest of your clothes, not batting an eye as the total came out to be two thousand. "Thank you for the excellent customer service. The concern that you show for your consumers is truly admirable," he noted as the associate handed him back his card, a small smirk creeping up on his lips as he also received the shopping bag. The two of you made your way out of the store, completing the small checklist that the two of you had made for what was needed in order to have a successful trip.

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witchywithwhiskey · 2 days

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tempting fate on the terrace

pairing: father's business rival CEO!bucky barnes x female reader

summary: you're relaxing on bucky's penthouse terrace and eating ice cream when he tempts you into something more

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, creampie, come play, light teasing, light overstimulation, finger sucking, choking, light bdsm, semi-public sex, little bit of exhibitionism, dirty talk, light degradation, praise kink, pet names (darling), unspecified age gap, fluff

word count: 2,900ish

a/n: y'all have @biteofcherry to blame for this follow up, because i couldn't get her idea out of my head and i just had to write it 😅 i'm so so so so so happy with how this turned out. i kind of can't get enough of these naughty little lovebirds, i just love them so much!!! and i hope y'all enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it!! ♡

tempting fate in the park (part 1)

The spring sunshine was perfectly warm on your face, and you stretched your legs out, sinking further into the soft cushions of the outdoor sofa as you considered whether you should trade in your Brooklyn brownstone for a Manhattan penthouse. Specifically a penthouse with a terrace as pretty as the one belonging to Bucky Barnes.

You licked your ice cream cone thoughtfully, gazing through the greenery that had been set up around the edge of the terrace to give it a sense of privacy. The whole of Manhattan seemed to sprawl beyond the edge of Bucky’s penthouse and you enjoyed the view almost as much as you loved the tree-lined Brooklyn street where you lived.

But your brownstone didn’t have a concierge to go buy ice cream and cones so you could have a delightful treat after being ruined by one of the most powerful CEOs in the city—who also happened to be your father’s business rival. That said, your apartment did have a bagel store around the block with the best bagels in New York City…

You were distracted from comparing the benefits of your home to Bucky’s by the door to the terrace sliding open with a soft sound. The man who had been nothing more than your father’s business rival—until he’d become much, much more—paused just outside the door, his hands slipping into the pockets of his lounge pants while he stared at you lazing about on his outdoor sofa.

You grinned, taking a long lick of your ice cream as you stared right back at him. He looked deliciously comfortable in his lounge pants and simple gray t-shirt, the soft cotton pulling tight across his broad shoulders. His brown hair was a little disheveled from how much you’d run your fingers through it, and his blue eyes sparkled in the golden late afternoon light.

“Y’know, darling, I could get used to seeing you looking so comfortable in my home,” Bucky rumbled as he prowled over to the sofa, lifting your legs and sitting down so they sprawled across his lap. Since he was closer, you could better see the way his eyes darkened as he raked them along your body. “And I could definitely get used to seeing you wear my clothes.” He fingered the bottom hem of the button-up shirt you were wearing—the one you’d stolen off his floor and put on because it smelled like him. “In fact, maybe it should be a rule that you only wear my clothes when you’re here.”

You laughed, the sound bright and airy as you tipped your head back, and you were still smiling when you looked back at Bucky. “You already made it a rule that I can’t wear panties while I’m here,” you pointed out, kicking him lightly with your bare foot. “At this rate, I’ll have to walk around naked, and I love your terrace too much for that—your neighbors are going to see me and we’re actually going to get that public indecency charge.”

Bucky’s hands had begun to massage your calves, slowly working their way up your legs but he paused in thought, his gaze going distant as he stared out over the city. “Y’know, I don’t think you can get charged for public indecency if you’re naked on a private terrace,” he said, then turned mischievous eyes on you. “Why don’t we test it out,” he teased in a deliciously warm tone, his hands slipping up your thighs to push the hem of your shirt up, revealing your bare pussy to his gaze.

“Jamie—someone could see!” you cried, laughing and pushing him away half-heartedly with one hand while you tried to hold your ice cream cone stable in the other. But Bucky turned and wedged his body between your legs so you couldn’t close them, his gaze heating as he stared down at the apex of your thighs.

“Christ, your pussy looks pretty with my come spilling out of it,” Bucky muttered, almost to himself, his fingers trailing through your still sticky folds. Your hips stuttered up against his fingertips and you sucked in a gasp as he brushed gently against your sensitive clit. “So fucking pretty, darling.”

“Jamie.” That time, when you said his name, it was more of a whimper, the sound so desperate it made heat flood your cheeks. You and Bucky had already fucked three times since you’d arrived at his penthouse, it was amazing that your body was still hungry for more. It felt like you’d be hungry for Bucky for the rest of your life.

Bucky looked up at you, grinning when he saw the needy look on your face. “You might want to finish your ice cream, darling, because I’m fucking another load into your pretty cunt the second you’re done,” he said, his voice low and gravelly and making you shiver as warmth pooled between your thighs.

Grabbing the collar of Bucky’s shirt, you pulled yourself up to sit, your legs wrapped around his waist from the side and held your treat out to him. “Help me finish, Jamie,” you begged in a playful tone, giving him a sweet smile as if you didn’t hear the double entendre of your words.

Bucky held your gaze as he leaned forward and took a big bite of your ice cream, chomping on some of the cone and making you laugh. But the warm spring sunshine was hot enough that the ice cream was soon dripping down your fingers and you quickly licked it up. Bucky watched you for a moment before he wrapped a hand around your throat and dragged you in for a messy kiss, the sweet taste of ice cream filling your senses just as much as the rich taste that was all Bucky.

Together, the two of you finished off your ice cream, laughing and kissing and tasting each other. When the cone was gone, you licked the sticky sweetness from Bucky’s fingers, your tongue teasing over his skin while you watched his blue eyes darken with desire. Once you were done, he tortured you in much the same way, his tongue sliding between your fingers in such an obscene way, you let out a soft moan as you imagined his warm mouth pressed between your thighs instead.

By the time every trace of ice cream had been licked from your skin, you were soaking wet and desperate for Bucky; you pulled him in for a kiss. He made quick work of unbuttoning the shirt you wore and pushing it down over your shoulders while your fingers dove beneath his t-shirt. You raked your nails lightly through the dark hair that decorated his chest, delighting in the softness of it against your fingertips. He groaned into your mouth, breaking away only to pull his shirt off.

Then he was laying you down on the sofa and pushing his lounge pants off to pool at his feet before he climbed over you, covering your body with his broader form. His hips settled between your thighs, his hard length nestling perfectly between your slick lower lips.

“Fuck, you feel good, darling,” Bucky rumbled on a moan, moving his hips back and forth, just enough to slide the hard ridge of his cock against your puffy clit. “Wanna be buried in this cunt every fucking moment of the day—you’re tuning me into some pussy-drunk idiot,” he growled, kissing and nipping at your jaw while his hand circled your throat, his fingers digging lightly into the sides.

You huffed a sound that was half laugh, half shuddering moan, your legs hooking around the backs of Bucky’s thighs and using the leverage to grind against his bare cock. “If it makes you feel any better, all I can think about is how badly I want to be your cockdrunk little slut,” you murmured in his ear, nuzzling your cheek against the scruff on his jaw and delighting in the delicious rasp against your skin. “I think about sitting under your desk in your office, your cock in my throat, keeping you warm while you work.”

“Oh fuck—fuck, darling,” Bucky groaned, rocking against you harder, his cock growing wet and slick with your juices the more he slid through your pussy lips. “When you’re not here and I’m stroking my cock, I think about fucking you at one of your father’s boring galas,” he rumbled, his words coming faster to match the speed of his hips. “I think about sinking my cock into you and pumping you full of come and making you go back out to the party with my load dripping down your thighs beneath your gown.”

You raked your fingers through Bucky’s soft hair, clinging to him while your hips kept rocking together. His hard cock was rubbing your clit and his words were spinning delicious fantasies and it was too much. You felt your release swelling within you, threatening to overwhelm you, but you didn’t want to come against his cock, you wanted to come on his cock.

“Jamie,” you cried on a gasp, babbling words that you hoped made sense so he’d know what you wanted, “I can’t—I’m gonna—please, inside me—come, please!”

Thankfully, Bucky understood your nonsense and he chuckled against your cheek. “Remember to be quiet, darling,” he rumbled, the warmth in his tone telling you he was grinning. “Don’t want the neighbors to hear you and risk finding out about whether we can get a public indecency charge on my private terrace.”

Before you could even think to respond to his teasing, Bucky pulled back, the tip of his cock needing no guidance to find your dripping hole. He slid inside easily, stretching you out around his cock. Your cunt was so wet, and you were so close to coming, it felt like your body was sucking him in deeper, your inner walls clinging to him as he split you open with his cock.

Despite Bucky’s warning, you groaned loudly—not because you wanted to find out about the indecency charge, but because you simply couldn’t control yourself. No matter how many times Bucky fucked you, every time he pushed deep into your cunt, it felt so good your mind went fuzzy with pleasure. You never wanted it to end, you wanted him inside you all the time, always and forever.

When the head of his cock pushed against your cervix, he grunted in pleasure while you moaned your own delight. Bucky dug his fingers deeper into the sides of your throat, cutting off your sound of ecstasy while he lifted himself up enough to see you. His eyes roved hungrily over your face, eagerly drinking in the way your expression twisted in pleasure as he pulled back and thrust inside you again, his hips clapping against your thighs.

“Dirty, filthy girl,” Bucky grunted, thrusting into you to punctuate each word. “Can never be quiet when I tell you.”

You tried to smirk up at him, but another hard driving thrust had your eyes rolling back and your mouth falling open on a silent moan. With what you thought was a valiant effort, you mannaged to huff, “That’s because I like it when you make me be quiet, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed on you and his mouth twisted into a determined snarl. “You know I prefer when you call me Jamie,” he growled, fucking you harder and faster, pressing his face close to yours so you could feel his warm breath ghost over your cheek. “You call me Jamie when my cock is deep in your cunt and I’m about to pump you full of my fourth load today—d’you hear me, darling?”

It was so much fun riling Bucky up, and you were enjoying the result of your efforts, your body lighting up from within as he pounded into you. But you knew he wanted an answer to his question, so you parted your lips and babbled, “Yes, sir, you feel so good, Jamie—love it when you fuck me hard, Jamie, please!”

“There’s my good girl,” Bucky rumbled, his tone as warm as the sunshine falling across your bare skin. He brushed a kiss to your cheek and pushed your thighs wider, fucking you in deep, grinding thrusts that had his pelvis rubbing perfectly against your clit. “Now come on my cock, darling, wanna feel your cunt choking my dick like I’m choking your pretty throat.”

As if you could resist an order like that.

At Bucky’s filthy words, you came undone. The swelling pleasure in your core burst, and your body went taut as wave after wave of overwhelming sensation washed over you. Your lips parted in a scream that Bucky made sure stayed silent, his big hand gripping your throat so tightly, it made your entire being focus in on everything your body was feeling, every little spark and fizzle of pleasure that came from his cock, his hand—him.

“Good girl, so good, feel so fucking good, darling, fuck—fuck,” Bucky groaned, his hips thrusting wildly between your thighs until he pressed deep and let out a low grunt. His cock twitched and throbbed inside you and you knew he was coming, your clenching pussy milking every drop of his load from his balls.

“Jamie,” you murmured when he loosened his grip on your throat. “Jamie, Jamie, Jamie.” Your chanting words were a plea and a prayer, which Bucky seemed to understand because his arms dug beneath your body so he could cradle you tight to his chest until there wasn’t a breath of air between you. You rode out your releases like that, your bodies writhing together, clinging to one another, unwilling to let the other move even a millimeter away.

Slowly, eventually, the two of you settled, your body melting beneath Bucky’s while his cock softened inside you. His come spilled from your slit, sliding down between your ass cheeks. But you couldn’t be bothered by the mess the two of you had made, not when it felt too good to simply lay with Bucky, both of you naked and basking in the golden spring sunshine.

“Sooo,” you began, drawing out the word as you trailed your fingers through Bucky’s soft hair. He rumbled a short hum of acknowledgement. “D’you think any of your neighbors heard us?”

That had Bucky chuckling. He pressed a kiss to your neck, his lips finding the same spot where his fingers had dug in, making you shiver. “What’re they gonna do, tell me I can’t fuck my girlfriend on my own private terrace?” he grumbled.

You went still beneath him and Bucky could feel the change in you, immediately lifting himself up so he could see your face. At his questioning look, you whispered, “That’s the first time you’ve called me your girlfriend.” You hated how small your voice sounded, but you were suddenly very afraid it was a slip of the tongue that Bucky would take back the second you pointed it out.

But he didn’t. Instead, his eyes went soft and he ducked down to press a sweet and firm kiss to your lips. “You’re my girlfriend,” he said resolutely, but then paused and gave you a look you couldn’t decipher. “Unless you don’t want to be.”

Your eyes widened and your fingers dug possessively into the back of his neck. “No, no, I want to be, I want to be,” you assured him quickly, smiling when he looked relieved. You pulled him down for another kiss, though it was difficult because you were grinning so hard. “Does this mean you’re my boyfriend, Jamie?”

“Of course I am,” he growled, nipping playfully at your lip and making you giggle.

“OK good,” you said with a happy sigh, going back to raking your fingers through his hair. “Then as your girlfriend,” you began, a teasing lightheartedness in your tone. “I demand my boyfriend get me another ice cream cone—since he ate half of mine.” When Bucky cut his eyes to yours, you gave him your best innocent pout, even though you knew he saw right through you.

“Anything for you, darling,” he rumbled, dropping a kiss to your lips before he extricated himself from your body and sat up. He pulled his lounge pants back on and then tugged his t-shirt on over your head, a pleased smile curving his lips at the sight of you wearing his clothes.

When Bucky dragged you up from the sofa, you tugged the hem of his shirt down over your ass, not wanting to flash any neighbors who might be looking, even though the greenery around the edge of the terrace would likely block you from view. Still, if you ever happened to move into Bucky’s penthouse, you didn’t want to have a reputation for walking around naked.

Not that you could see yourself giving up your beloved Brooklyn brownstone.

Probably.

Unless Bucky asked you to move into his penthouse…

Thankfully, you were distracted from what a future with Bucky would mean for your housing situation by the man himself pulling your favorite flavor of ice cream from his freezer. He turned to you with a happy grin, looking devastatingly handsome and at home in his penthouse kitchen.

Right then, you decided you weren’t going to be tempting fate on the terrace again. It had been fun to fuck your boyfriend where any of his neighbors could have overheard or caught a glimpse of you, but you didn’t want to risk it again.

Just in case you did end up moving into Bucky Barnes’ penthouse.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #ceo bucky barnes #ceo!bucky barnes #ceo au #sebastian stan #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan characters #witchywithwhiskeywork

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briefalpacashark · 2 months

Text

~Drunk Boys~

The boys from 141 get drunk and you have to pick them up.

Warning: Drunk, violence.

Parts inspired from New Girl. If you know you know.

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One lovely evening you sat in your little office space. The boys had headed off quite some time ago for a few drinks. Your usual Friday night outing didn't include you that time because of a few reports you had put off. It was pulling onto 1am when your phone started to ring. It was a new number you had never seen before.

“Hello, this is Y/N speaking,” you said.

“Hey uh doc?” It was Gaz voice that came through the call.

“Gaz?” you asked.

“Who you talking to?” you could hear Jonny ask in the background.

“I'm talking to doc,” Gaz stated.

“Oh, why?” Jonny whispered.

“I don't know,” Gaz murmured back. It didn't take a detective to establish by their slurred tones that they were drunk.

“Gaz, why are you calling me from a random number?” you asked.

“I don't know. Our phones got wet,” he explained.

“Our?” you asked.

“Yeah Me, Soap, Ghost and Price,” he stated with a sassy tone, as if it was your fault for not knowing.

“So you fucked you phones?” you asked.

“Yeah,” Gaz nodded.

“And you called me, why?” you asked. There was silence for a bit.

“Captain, why am I calling Doc again?” Gaz asked.

“Because we lost the fucking car and we need a lift back to base,” Price snapped in the distance.

“Because we lost the fucking car and we need a lift back to base,” Gaz tone was much calmer and sweeter than Prices. A small smile worked its way onto your face.

“Alright, ill be there soon. Where are you?” you asked, making your way to the door.

“Not at the base,” Gaz said.

“I know that Gaz. Where are you now?” It was like talking to a toddler.

“Oh, We're at McDonalds,” he said before the line went dead. There were three McDonalds in the town. You thought they would be at the one closest to the bar. You were right. You were about to pull into the car park when you paused. Alittle down the street, right under the McDonalds sign sat four blobs. Driving up to it, you slammed on the brakes at what you saw.

Price was sitting with his arms crossed. His hat looked to have been ripped in half and then shakily put back together with some staples, a tuft of his hair sticking out the top. Next to him Ghost with a traffic cone on his head and one tucked in his lap as he sat cross-legged. He was hugging it, and the one in his lap had been drawn on, and made up to look like a person, with a hat and a bikini loosely tied around it. One of his jacket sleeves was missing as if it had been torn clean off. Jonny sat next to him shirtless, with a patch of hair missing from his chest. Over it a pink glittery 21st birthday sash. His mohawk sprinkled with glitter and a kilt. Gaz had left in a pair of jeans, he was now in a pair of pink booty shorts that you would place money on that had some word like bitch or booty on the back of bedazzled gems. A crown of beer cans ducked taped around his head compelled the fit. All about them, strewn across the floor was a variety of McDonald's food, ranging from ice-creams to nuggets. They were all happily munching away. And they were all missing their left shoe?

You got out of the car phone at the ready.

“Say cheese boys,” you called. Drunkenly, they all looked up in your general direction, taking a photo. You chuckled, pocketing your phone and hands as you looked over them all. Wondering what the hell happened to them.

“Ah, it's doc. What are you doing here, lovey?” Jonny asked in excitement, throwing his hands to the air.

“I'm here to pick you boys up,” you said.

“Pah, no we're alright. We've still got to go to another bar. Ain't that right LT?” Jonny asked, waving you away.

“Aye. I want another lager,” Ghost stated defiantly.

“I think you boys have had enough. Just look at the state of ya,” you gestured to them.

“Wow, body shaming. Shame on you Y/N,” Gaz slurred, shaking his head disappointingly.

“Your all wet. Each of you has a piece of clothing damaged and all of you haven't even made eye contact with me yet,” you explained. Instantly, they all turned to stare into your eyes.

“Bull shit,” Jonny hiccuped before taking a bite of his burger.

“Sargent, Report,” Price spoke up. You paused, considering his words as he stared down at the road in front of him.

“Report sir?” you asked. He nodded, tipping forward ever so slightly. Your eyes widened. He was absolutely plastered. They all were.

“Your all drunk as fuck,” you said simply, your sentence finishing in a bewilder chuckle. The boys could hold their liquer, hell you have ever seen Gaz and Jonny drunk.

“Am not,” Jonnys offended tone had you laughing again.

“Of sorry. My mistake, your only eating ice cream burger because you want to,” you jabbed you fingers at the burger in his hands. The ice cream was dripping down his arms and it looked like he had stacked nuggets, chips and a shit ton of cheese into the mix.

“As a matter of fact I did want to,” he said moving his hand about, the contents of the burger slopping onto the ground.

“Awww,” Jonny whined.

“Five second rule bruv,” Gaz said reaching bow to pick up a handful of the mess reconstructing the burger and handing it back to Jonny.

“Thanks Gaz,” Jonny seemed genuinely thankful. You held back a gag as he moved it to his mouth.

“Don't eat that,” you warned. You sure as hell didn't want him getting sick of all the gems that were now thrown into the burger mix.

“I'll do what I want to do, because I can do whatever I want to do because I can do it,” he slurred.

“Jonny you eat that burger and I'll never speak to you again,” you proposed the ultimatum. He paused, pondering for a moment.

“What if I drink it?” he asked.

“Your gonna drink a burger?” you asked raising an eyebrow.

“Aye,” he nodded confidently.

“I bet you a tenner you can't,” Price spoke up. The poor man looked to be dozing in and out of sleep.

“I'll take that bet,” Jonny said.

“Jonny that was on the road,” you pleaded.

“And?” he asked.

“Put it down,” you ordered sternly. With a grumble, he chucked the burger down like a toddler throwing a tantrum. The boys held back their giggles. You heard that right giggle. And it was stared by none other than the man himself. Price. He was giggling. The high-pitched noise sounded off coming from him.

“Ohhhhhhhh mums mad at you,” Gaz joked, nudging his side.

“Sod off,” Jonny grumbled.

“Alright where’s the phone you called me from?” you asked.

“Why?” Gaz questioned.

“Because you called me from a random number, which means you had someone else’s phone. By the state of you lot I wouldn't be surprised if you stole it,” you explained.

“Right, it's over there,” Gaz grabbed his thumb to the phone booth. You first thought they had called you from it, but when you noticed the little pink box, you walked up to it to get a closer look. It was an iPhone. In a pink case, it was cracked to kingdom come and they had somehow lodged it in the credit card reader. You tried tugging it out to no avail. What you did find was Gaz’s phone propped up on the little stand with his contacts open with your name and number on it. Deciding not to question the backwards thinking that led them there you pocketed Gaz’s phone, walking back to the boys.

“Alright, I want the truth ok. What happened?” you asked a little concerned.

“Meet up with some airforce boys. They tried to act all high and mighty,” Price shrugged.

“Said they could drink more than us,” Ghost added.

“We had to prove them wrong,” Jonny explained.

“And we did. But then they brought out, Um what was it called?” Gaz clicked his fingers.

“Abstanance,” Jonny proclaimed proudly.

“Absinthe?” you asked in shock.

“Hell yeah, drunk those fuckers under the table.” Ghost nodded.

“Dunk yourselves under the table by the looks of it. Why are you wet? And what the fuck happened to ya shoes?” you asked.

“The ducks were drowning,” Gaz stated simply.

“And there was a bar that takes your shoe when you start a tab. It's to prevent running out without payed your tab,” Jonny added.

“So you all rescued ducks and ran out on a tab?” you asked. The boys pondered for a moment realized how bad it sounded.

“Yes,” Ghost nodded.

“No,” the rest of them said.

“And only Ghost rescued the ducks, I fell in, Gaz tried to rescue me but couldn't and Price saved us both,” Jonny explained as if it fixed it all.

“You shouldn't have been hanging around ponds this drunk. It's dangerous,” you murmured.

“For your information, it wasn't a pond,” Gaz stated defensively.

“Oh yeah, what was it?” you cooed back.

“It was the fountain,” he pointed across the way into the park where a fountain was lit up. A knee deep fountain.

“Right, get in the car. Come on,” the boys groaned.

“We can't,” Gaz said.

“And why not?” you asked.

“Cause,” he trailed off. “Legs an’t working,” he finished. The boys all gave him approving nodds thinking his excuse was to tire brilliance.

“Well, I guess I'll just help you. Come on,” you helped Gaz up first, sliding him into the back of the car.

“I don't wanna go,” Jonny whined.

“I know big guy,” you cooed. Sliding him in next to Gaz, you shook your head when they started giggling.

“Your turn,” you gestured Ghost up.

“Am I under arrest?” he asked.

“What? No,” you shook your head.

“Oh really. Seemed like it.” his hint of sass had you pointing to the car. With a grumble he got up and walked to the car, slipping into the middle seat. You frowned, ducking your head to see the other door open, Jonny now sitting at the far side and Gaz nowhere to be seen. Looking back to the makeshift picnic, you saw him back at the phone booth.

“For fuck’s sake, Stay,” you order the two in the car. Walking up to him, you frowned as he held the phone up to his ear.

“What you doing Gaz?” you asked.

“Ringling Doc. She needs to come pick us up,” he said whole heartedly forgetting that you were there already. With a huffed you took him by the arms, pulling him back. You sighed when you saw Ghost and Jonny sitting back on the curb happily munching away. You sat Gaz in the back of the car, deciding to lock the back door this time. You then filed in Jonny than Ghost. Closing the door behind them, you made your way back to Price.

“Come on sir,” you called softly. He looked up to you and with the biggest beaming brightest smile, and he giggled. God you had never seen anything more pure.

“Your sweet Doc,” he said.

“Thank You sir. Now can you get in the car please,” you begged.

“Yes Ma’am,” he nodded, suddenly shooting to his feet. And with that, he toppled back like a domino landing in the bush.

“Christ,” You scrambled to get him out, practically carrying him to the car. Putting him in the driver's seat you buckled him in. When your head rose to make sure the boys were all in you were met by empty back seats.

“Doc, we can't leave the boys,” Price stated pointing out the window. Where the three men were gathered around a tree relieving themselves. Only Gaz seemed to just be standing there and Jonny appeared to be pissing on Ghost's boot.

“Get in the car!” You called out the window. Begrudgingly, they all piled back in.

“Hang on, I need a piss,” Price spoke up just as they all buckled in. With a tired sigh you patiently waited. Then when he returned you drove off.

“Wait, a minute, this ain't the way home,” Gaz suddenly pointed out.

“Yes I know. I think I know the bar you're talking about. We're going to go back there and pay your tab and get your shoes back. The higher ups would have a field day if you guys got in trouble,” you explained. Pulling up to the bar, you parked the car.

“Wait this is a police station,” Jonny pointed out. Yes, on the other side of the street, there was a police station.

“We should go fight that police officer,” Ghost suggested.

“What? What police officer?” you asked.

“The one we stole this from,” Gaz said, pulling a taser gun that had been tucked in the back of his pants.

“You stole from a police officer!” you exclaimed.

“First of all he was an absolute piss head. A real fucker,” Price spoke up in a logical tone.

“Yeah, he tried to arrest Gaz,” Ghost added.

“Prick,” Gaz grumbled.

“Let's do this Lads,” Price grinned at the rest of them. Like a toddler hyped up on sugar.

“Actually, I think that might be a bad idea,” Gaz spoke up.

“Gaz,” Price called and Gaz hummed in response.

“I got two of these and you got two of those. And we got whatever da fuck Ghost is, lets go,” he held up two fists before stepping out of the car.

“No NO nonononono,” you reached over trying to grab at Price, but he was already gone.

“I swear to god if any of you move I'll give you tetanus shots in the morning,” you threw the threat back at the remaining men in the car. The tetanus shot was one of the worst shots you could get, and they all had bad memories of it. So at the threat, they quickly did their seat belts back up.

“Christ,” you hissed, quickly hopping out of the car when you saw Price walk up to an officer hanging around outside.

While you were trying to deescalate the situation and explain to the cop why there was a drunk man trying to pick a fight, the boys were watching from the car.

“She's scary,” Gaz whispered.

“What a fucking woman,” Ghost grumbled.

“I think I'm gonna ask her out,” Jonny declared. Ghost head snapped around faster than light.

“Fuck off,” he grumbled.

“Don't tell me what to do,” Jonny rumbled back.

“I bagsed her. You can't do shit,” Ghost said.

“Fucking when?” Jonny asked.

“Just then,” Ghost stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

“You can't bags a woman,” Gaz interjected.

“I know, women are strong beautiful beings to be respected and we are to respect their choices,” Ghost said, all the boys agreeing.

“But I still bags her,” he added at the end.

“Fuck you Brit. If you like her, do something bout it!” Jonny snapped his blink slightly delayed.

“Suck a cock scotsman,” Ghost snapped back.

“Do-Do you think you can beat me in a physical altercation of feisty cuffs?” Jonny fumbled with his words, raising his fists slightly. His aim was to star threateningly at his face but he missed the mark slightly staring at his knee. “I will beat you in a way you have NEver Beeenn beaten before,” Ghost stared at Jonny’s unfocused gaze. Before casually reaching over and giving him a gentle backhanded tap on his face.

“OHHHHHH,” Gaz called from his middle seat.

“DAMMIT!” Jonny explained as if he had just received a full on punch but didn't move in the slightest.

“You just got hit in the face lad,” Gaz giggle.

“Hit me again!” Jonny dared. So Ghost did, repeating the same action. Only it didn't seem to compute in Jonny mind the second time. “I dare you, you put your hands on me one more time, Cause I swear, it will be an, I will-” Ghost reached over his wrist wrapping around the back of Jonny neck.

“Come closer so I can put you in a choke hold,” Ghost asked politely.

“No!” Jonny declared going to hit back only for his hand to completely miss and fall to the side harmlessly. The two fumbled in the back of the car not really accomplishing anything.

“Guys, look he's gettin the cop!” Gaz announced. They all looked out the car window to see the cop walk off.

You had tried and failed to calm them down. Price had demanded to see the cop that tried to arrest Gaz. The boys all piled out of the car, some more graceful than others, before rushing up to you.

“Oh god no, get back in the car please!” you begged.

“Gotta get loose,” Jonny stated, starting to do jumping jacks.

“Guys Doc is right. We should go,” Gaz stated.

“Pussy,” that one word from Ghost was all it took for Gaz to shrug his jacket off and start stretching.

“You guys are really gonna fight a cop!?” you asked, bewildered by it all.

“Yes we are!” Jonny yelled confidently.

“No you're not!” You yelled. You couldn't believe it. It was like all common sense had been turned off in their heads.

“Ohhh Jonny’s in trouble,” Gaz grinned.

“Fuck you,” Jonny called reaching out to try and give Gaz a slight tap on the nuts.

“Dont touch my balls!” Gaz cried.

“Yeah Jonny,” Ghost chuckled, amused by it all only for Jonny to try and hit his. Bewildered, you were utterly bewildered as you saw the group of highly trained soldiers all become involved in what you assumed was a game of hit the dick. They were all relatively bent over trying to protect their jewels while simultaneously trying to hit each other. Even price had been pulled into it.

“Guys come on,” you begged.

“He touched my penis!” Jonny cried in a high-pitched voice.

“Don't touch my penis!” Gaz screamed right back.

“Can I help you boys?” A cop walked out of the station.

“Officer. Hi. I am so sorry about them there just a little drunk, I'll get them home safely,” you quickly interjected yourself between them.

“It's the cop!” Jonny declared pointing at him. The cop was beyond confused. Because for one, he had never seen the boys before in his life.

The truth of the story was that it was a comply different cop that had tried to arrest Gaz. They looked similar, and that was about it. And the only reason why he was trying to arrest Gaz was because he had stolen his taser gun.

But the boys could hardly see straight, so when they heard the cop was there, they trusted his words comply.

“Come on, let's go!” Jonny declared as they all crowded around the poor man. Well, you tried to keep them back trying to speak over their taunts for a fight. The cop spoke into his radio, requesting backup.

“Please, this is all a big misunderstanding. They're actually really nice blokes,” your words fell on deaf ears.

“Pig!” Ghost said.

“Oh look, the little boy needs back up. We can take em,” Gaz said.

“If Laswell finds out about this, she’ll have your heads!” Your yell instantly had the boys silent.

“FUCKEN RUN!” Price ordered the fear filling them. Instantly they took off down the street.

“Serpentine!” Gaz yelled had them all running in a squiggly line. Which had Jonny and Gaz running into each other. Ghost even knocked his head on a low post not even flinching as he kept on running. That left you standing there out the front of the police station with a group of police officers. And you all watched as the boys disappeared down the street.

“So um that,” you trailed off, pointing to them. “I uh,”

“I have no explanation for that,” you whispered in defeat.

When you found Gaz he was still running down the street.

“GAZ GET IN THE CAR!” you yelled out the window.

“FUCK THE POLICE! FUCK POLICE WOMEN!” he yelled.

“WHAT!?” you yelled. He instantly stopped running up to the car window.

“I have nothing against women, officers. I understand how my words were terrible. I just heard you were a woman and everyone calls you all policemen so I wanted to be inclusive but I realize I was just singling you out,” he explained drunkenly.

“Gaz I'm not a police woman. Get in the fucken car,” you ordered.

“You can't fool me. FUCK POLICE WOMEN!” he yelled, taking off sprinting again.

“Fuck this,” you grunted slamming on the breaks and jumping out he car. Gaz wasn't really sure what happened but one moment he was running down the street and the next he was in the back of the car the seat belt cut and tied around his hands and feet.

The others were a bit harder to find. Price was up a fucking willow tree. Getting him out of the tree was a fucking mission. You ended up just throwing random stuff at him until he eventually fell out. You used branches to tie him up and put him in the car as well. Finding Soap was a lucky find. You saw him stumbling down the street and when you called out to him he rushed into a club. As you walked in you realized quickly that you wouldn't have much luck finding him. It was packed to the brim and you couldn't see over anyone's heads. So you make your way up to the DJ booth.

“Hi, I'm trying to find a drunk scotsman. He's a vet. Do you mind?” you asked, gesturing to the microphone.

“Anything for our boys,” he said, handing it over.

“If you're a Scot and wearing a kilt, come up on stage for your prize!” Everyone cheered as you tucked yourself behind the DJ stand. Jonny walked up on stage basking in the cheers, raising his hands high in the air.

And then you crash tackled him to the floor, tying him up with some power cords.

“Fucks sake Jonny,” you grunted after you had lugged his body out of the club and into the car.

“Wow, they caught you before me, Captain. I'm surprised,” Jonny grinned smugly. You spent the next hour searching for Simon. You were about to give up when you decided to ring his phone. If Gaz’s still worked there was a chance his did too. Hearing the ringing you frowned. It wasn't just coming from your phone. Looking back to the boys, you could hear the muffled sound.

“Hello?” Ghost asked through the phone. His actual voice sounded once again from the back. Getting out of the car, you rounded it before pulling the boot open. There Ghost lay, his large body comedically tucked into the back, the Traffic cone still in his arms.

“How long have you been in there?” you asked.

“Since you caught Gaz,” he stated simply. With a deep sigh you gestured him out of the back. You knew you didn't need to tie him up and helped him to the front seat. Locking the doors, you started to drive everyone back to base.

“Boys, we've been kidnapped,” Price stated slowly.

“Like hell we have,” Jonny whispered back.

“What are you boys whispering about back there?” You asked. With your eyes on the busy road, you failed to see them untie themselves and jimmy the lock.

“RONDEVU AT THE PUB BOYS!” Price ordered. Instantly, they all threw themselves out of the car and legged it in opposite directions. You had slammed on the brakes once they had done it. You watched them run, letting your tired head fall to the steering wheel.

“Give me strength,” you pleaded. This time you weren't so lucky in finding them.

What happened was your phone rang again. From a new number.

“Hello?” you already knew who it was.

“Hey doc. Can you come pick us up? We lost the car,” Gaz's voice wafted through.

“Sure where are you? You asked.

“The police station,” he whispered bashfully.

So there you were back at the police station. You smiled bashfully at the officers the boys had tried to fight. Luckily for them you were a sweet talker. And the fact that they were military helped as well. They would have been charged with theft of a police officer and walking out on a tab. But you returned the taser gun, which hadn't been discharged. And you paid the tab with a generous tip getting their boots back in the process. The boys embarrassingly walked out of the station looking like puppies that had just been kicked.

“Are you mad at us?” Jonny asked.

“Not mad, Just disappointed,” you shook your head. For the four drunk men the sentence was devastating, making them drop their head in guilt. A tiny smile pulled at your lips.

“Come on, let's get you home,” you ruffled Jonny's hair gently pulling them all out of the police station.

“Can we get McDonalds on the way home?” Gaz asked.

“I want an ice cream,” Price spoke up.

“Sure, why not?”

This time, the drive was much more peaceful. When you got back, you made sure they were all changed, well hydrated and tucked into bed. Which was incredibly hard because they had hit the pass out drunk stage. Ghost was the hardest. You managed to get him on the bed and his shirt and jacket off relatively easily. You paused momentarily as you saw his bare upper body. God damn the greek sculptures could take pointers from him. Your gaze softened as you saw all the scars and bullet holes that lined the ripples of his muscle. He's been through a lot. You felt slightly perverted as you undid his pants. Only they were wet and long, so you stood there yanking at them pulling them off inch by inch. Now you were using your whole body to get those bad boys off, so it didn't surprise you when you flew halfway across the room when you finally got them off. Breathing heavily, you gently lifted his legs back onto the bed. Grabbing the blanket, you tucked it up to his chin, your hand brushing against the wet mask. While the room was heated, it was still cold. Plus, you couldn't tell if it was water or blood from the hit that was on the top.

“Alright Simon, I'm gonna take off your mask. But I'm gonna close my eyes so don't worry. I just don't want you waterboarding yourself in your sleep,” you whispered. He gave no response. With a deep breath, you reached up and closed your eyes. Your hands gathered the material at the bottom of the fabric and started rolling it up. In your focus you hadn't noticed Simon's eyes snap open at the movement. His hand had almost snapped around your wrist, only stopping when he saw your eyes closed. Slowly, he let his hand fall as you pulled the mask fully off.

“Alright, now let's see if you did any damage to that head of yours?” you asked. Your hands brushed away his hair from his face, humming at the loose curls. His heart stirred as he stared at you, loving the blissful feeling your hands gave him as they moved across his face. When you were happy that it was only a lump he had sustained a small giggle left on your lips.

“That's gonna be a shiner mate,” you whispered.

He watched as your smile dropped slightly when her thumb brushed over a scar. You got a weird sense of DeJa'Vu as you thumb gently traced the scar. So many scars. Life certainly hadn't been kind to him.

"What am I gonna do with you huh?" you asked softly. Brushing his hair back once again, you stood.

“Night Simon,” you whispered before blindly making your way out the room. Simon watched the door close before looking up at the ceiling. His hand clasped over his rapidly beating heart as he came to the sudden realization.

He was absolutely smitten for the Doc.

“Fuck,” he grunted.

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=COD Master List Here=

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#141 x reader #141 x you #cod 141 #cod ghost #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #task force 141 #tf 141 #simon riley x reader #cod #ghost cod #cod x reader #call of duty

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erwinsvow · 2 months

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“yeah, you want that one?” rafe asks you, while you browse through the dresses on the rack. the one you’ve picked out to show him is yellow gingham, with skinny straps and a bow on the neckline. you hold the dress to your chest, looking down to see where it’ll end on you. “i’ll get it for you.”

“hm…” you consider the idea for a moment, holding the dress out again to get a better look. “i don’t know. it’s pretty short.”

“since when is that a bad thing?” rafe moves his arm against the rack, manhandling the hanger from your hand and holding it against you himself. “think it’s perfect.” you laugh at your boyfriend’s antics.

“there has to be a reason to wear it, rafe. i don’t have any right now.”

“we’ll go to dinner. there’s your reason.”

“i have other dresses,” you decide finally, putting it back between the others.

“c’mon, just let me get it for you.” he follows you while you walk away and wander towards the jewelry section of the store. you look down at sparkling silver and shimmery gold, while rafe joins you and leans against the glass counter. “you want jewelry instead? that’s fine.”

“no, i’m just looking,” you insist again. “it’s called window shopping. ever heard of it?

there’s pretty things in the case, a silver bracelet with little blue stones that particularly catches your eye since blue is your new favorite color, but you don’t really want anything, and you really don’t want rafe to buy it for you.

“no. just pick somethin’ out. my treat.” you glance up at rafe.

“for what? i haven’t done anything.” he laughs to himself, not necessarily at you, more because of you.

“i don’t need a reason.” he makes you flush, so you walk away again, this time to the shoes. you hold a pair of brown sandals in your hand, flipping them over to see the size.

“you already treated me, remember? you paid for lunch.” rafe grabs the shoes out of your hands too.

“that’s a meal, not a treat. want these?” he looks down at you, not even sparing a glance to the price tag. “c’mon.” you grab his wrist as fast as you can.

“no! no. i have some just like these. it’ll be a waste, i’ll never wear them.”

“are you bein’ serious or are you just sayin’ that?” damn it. you are just saying it, since you don’t want rafe spending his money on you. you lie to cover your tracks.

“serious. i’d never lie to you.”

you wrestle the shoes out of his hand, settling them back on the shelf.

“fine. c’mon, we can go somewhere else.” you finally let him buy you an ice cream cone just so he’ll stop offering.

you try to explain to rafe that the reason you want to walk around is to look around and spend time with him, not to really buy things, but he’s hard to convince.

rafe thinks you need to stop being so worried about what everyone will think. you’re still bad at it, trying to ignore that part of you that murmurs in your ear that people will judge you for all these nice, new things rafe wants to buy you. you think people will say you’re dating him for the money, but worse than that, you think people will say bad things about rafe, about his choice in dating you, if you ever make him buy you more than dinner or ice cream.

your hesitancy gets the best of you, and even though you’ve always had some nice things, being pampered by rafe feels inherently wrong, like you should at least make sure he knows he doesn’t need to buy you anything. lost in your own thoughts, you’ve rejected his offers countless times, and the only new, expensive thing he’s gotten you since you started dating is the R necklace you wear everyday.

you think you’re good at hiding it, but you’re not. rafe sees right through you, and he knows what he’s going to do about it.

later that week, rafe drops you off at home in the morning after you slept over. you still think he hates driving in the cut—as much as he denies it—but he refuses to let you bike back and forth to tannyhill.

“i’ll pick you up for dinner.” he says, leaning across you to open the passenger side door. you flush like you always do, partly because he’s not asking, he’s telling.

you nod, and then wave bye from the window. he waits until you get inside to drive away, which makes you want to go scream into your pillow. you head into your room to do just that, but you’re greeted instead by bags and boxes littered across your bed.

you know what they are, even before you walk over on your wobbly knees and set aside the tissue paper, looking down with watery eyes all the things you had been admiring in the store the other day with rafe. you sit down next to them—the yellow dress, the pretty sandals, the glittery bracelet—and dial rafe’s number on your phone. you exhale shaky breaths while the line rings, but can’t hold back tears any longer when he answers.

“you didn’t have to do this,” you say quietly into the phone, biting your cheek. you try to blink away the new tears.

“do what?” you laugh, so rafe laughs too.

“i…i feel bad when you buy me things.”

“i know. y’should stop that.”

“or you can stop first.”

“i’m never gonna stop.” you suck in a breath, heart thudding and feeling deliriously in love. “gonna come get you later. wear the new stuff, okay?”

“okay. i will.”

“that’s my girl.” you fall back and let your head hit the pillow.

#rafe being soft with shy reader..... nothing better in this world #hints of pogue reader toooo dipping my toes in #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

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perlelune · 2 months

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Training Wheels | Coriolanus Snow | iv.

Your mother's macabre work never appealed to you as you always preferred the comfort of your books, but when her apprentice takes a special interest in you, your safe, quiet world is flipped upside down.

Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Gaul!Reader, Shy Reader, Manipulation, Parental Neglect, Drinking, Peer Pressure, Hazing, University set, Loss of Virginity, Dumbification, Insecurities, Abusive Relationship, Degradation, Suicide Attempt

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

“Oh, do you mind if we take a little break?” Clemensia asks almost as soon as you’ve begun working on the task she gave you. You blink, a little confused as your gaze roams across the table. There’s still so much to do. You’re not sure if the girls are just that slow but it’s clear that it will take at least a few hours to get all of it done.

But Clemensia is in charge of the ball committee. You don’t picture yourself telling her what to do or how to do it. After all, you are an outsider. A foreign element infiltrating their ecosystem. You have to play by their rules.

If they want to take a break, who are you to argue with that?

You begin to rise.

“Oh, a break, sure…”

Clemensia’s lips pinch as you try to follow them. “It’s just that…we’ve been doing this for so long, all by ourselves. I even broke a nail.” She pouts, showing you her hands. “But it needs to be finished today.” She nibbles her bottom lip and sighs, eyes pleading yours. “If no one stays behind…”

You mull it over. While you’re not thrilled over the idea of working on the decorations by yourself, you did just get here. You suppose you could hold the fort while they stretch their legs…or whatever Clemensia and her friends like to do when they hang out.

“I guess I could stay,” you concede.

Clemensia flashes you a broad grin.

“You’re so sweet,” she chimes. “Thank you. We won’t be long, promise. Ten minutes tops.”

You shrug and return to your chair. Ten minutes. That sounds reasonable. You pick up the scissors and start cutting more of the tree shapes.

“No problem.”

But one issue arises.

The promised ten minutes expand into thirty. Then an hour. Then two. At first, you don’t let your mind dissect it too hard. It’s a stupid thing to overthink, isn’t it? A silly thing to chop into pieces until your mind bleeds with doubt and insecurity. You surmise it was more of an approximation. People do that all the time, say something while meaning another. At least you believe they do. Besides, you find ways to keep yourself busy, even getting started on the sparkly globes lying on the side of the room. You figure out how to use most of the tools on your own and get wrapped in your own bubble of quietness.

Silence is a familiar companion, the one constant that never judged you, never asked for more of you. In your Silence, you get to be you. Nothing more; nothing less. So you let yourself sink in its warm, snug embrace.

Still, somewhere in the back of your mind, thoughts meander passively… What is taking them so long? You steal a glance outside the window. Orange and purple hues are already bleeding into the sky, a sign of the evening nearing its end.

You retrieve your pocket watch from inside your skirt. A frown wrinkles your brow. At a time like this, you would usually be home, curled up with Walter on your bed as you go over your notes for the week. It often takes you hours just to decipher the course transcripts.

“Wow, you did such a great job,” Clemensia whistles from behind you.

You gasp and whirl. All smiles, the girls fill your sight.

They approach the table and examine some of the decorations you put together on your own. Realization sweeps through you as the fog of your thoughts clear. It didn’t hit you before, not until you absorbed the current state of the crafts table, brimming with the results of your solitary labor. You’ve been busy. Spinning crystal balls, pine cones, silvery garlands and a heap of snowflakes meant to hang on the walls and ceiling. Clemensia admires your handiwork, seemingly impressed.

A little peeved, you point out, “I mean…had you guys even started? Most of the decorations needed to be cut, glued or assembled…”

“I have delicate hands,” Livia sighs, examining her manicured nails.

“I’m very slow, sorry,” Ivy says apologetically.

Your frown deepens. Was this whole thing a setup? You sacrificed precious time to be here and you shudder to think the entire purpose of your presence is some kind of childish prank.

Coriolanus’ words echo in your mind. He argued the girls weren’t like that and that they left the immature tricks back at the Academy. You truly want to believe that none of this is designed to embarrass you, that perhaps, again, all of this is in your head. But your aching fingers, sore from doing crafts most of the afternoon, suggestotherwise.

Unleashing a sigh, you gather your satchel and head towards the exit.

Clemensia obstructs your path, holding up her hands in apology.

“I know we should have been back earlier. I’m so sorry. We ran into the Dean and it turned into a whole thing.” She seizes your hands, remorse twisting her pretty features. “I feel so horrible. I invited you so we could do it together as friends.”

Your shoulders slump. As you soak in the look of genuine contrition on her face, doubts lurk inside you. Your confidence about being the victim of some prank wavers. Perhaps, you overreacted. Incidents happen. Besides, the chances of you joining Clemmie’s committee are slim, as you’re already swamped with assignments. A promise was made and you kept it. But this likely will be a one time thing. School dances are at the bottom of your priority list right now.

So you discard it all with a wave of your hand and a contrived smile.

“It’s okay. No apology needed. It’s not your fault.” You note how much darker it’s gotten outside. “I should go back home though. It’s already so late-”

Clemensia stops you again, her hand tightening around yours as she offers excitedly, “Wait, you should come to game night at Liv’s.”

“What?” Livia snickers. Clemensia shoots her a withering glare and the blonde clears her throat, correcting herself, “I mean…yeah, you totally should come.”

You fidget and adjust the strap of your satchel. You may have heard whispers of those game nights. Mystique surrounds them as only a few chosen people are invited to attend. You, of course, were never invited. And it isn’t hard to gather how Livia feels about you coming from her reaction. Why force your way into places where you aren’t wanted?

“I’m already behind on my revising for the day. If I don’t go over my Molecular-”

“Boring,” Ivy sings sarcastically.

“Don’t be mean, Ivy,” Clemensia scolds, elbowing her in the rib.

Clemensia tilts her head, her tone turning beseeching.

“Please…I really want to get to know you better.” She huffs out a long breath as she seems to sense your hesitation. The brunette leans closer, hands clutching your forearms. Sympathy twinkles in her onyx orbs. “You know, I used to be a lot like you. Always striving to be the best at everything I do.” A hollow giggle slips through her lips. “It’s how I got in trouble with your mother actually…I wanted to win so badly and she decided to teach me a lesson.” Sadness pinches her delicate features. “But by always striving for greatness, you miss out on life. I learnt that during the Games...”

“...Surviving isn’t living.”

She studies you before saying, “And it’s what you’re doing, isn’t it? Surviving.”

Eyes on the ground, you chew on your lip. You never imagined someone like Clemensia Dovecote - the most beautiful, popular girl at the University - could feel this way…let alone relate to you.

“Clemmie…”

She hunkers a little so your eyes meet.

“Come on, I really want to make up for today.” She laughs. “Show you I’m not a bitch.”

“I don’t think you’re a bitch,” you say.

She places her palm on your cheek. “See? You’re so nice. That’s why I want us to be friends.” She bends over your ear, the words she mutters almost too quiet to be heard, “I can barely stand those two on most days, but appearances must be kept.”

Your gaze swings upward, shock pulsing through you.

She beams at you. “It’ll be an intimate gathering of just a select group, close friends. We play cards, chat, and have a few drinks. That’s it.”

Your forehead creases.

“I don’t drink.”

Squeezing your shoulders, she assures you, “Then I’ll make sure not a drop of alcohol passes your lips. Promise.”

“It’s casual, I swear. You can even leave early if you want.”

This grabs your attention, as you aren’t sure you’ll make it through the night without craving to return to the safe, familiarity of your apartment. The potential for escape makes the offer far more enticing.

Obviously, Clemensia cares about you showing up. While you don’t fully grasp why, you also never had anyone go out of their way to spend time with you. During the Academy days, everyone avoided you like the plague, either finding you odd or fearing you were as terrifying as your mother. The University doesn’t seem much different so far, groups having already formed from previous camaraderie. Bonds that were forged years ago and cemented over time while you endured in the back of the class. The forgotten one. And you always figured it is the most you can aspire for. Being ignored and left alone.

Until now.

“Really?”

Clemensia’s smile widens.

“Yes. You can stay as long as you want and leave.”

“I don’t have anything to wear to a party,” you muse, pursing your lips. Your tiny, limited wardrobe has always prioritized function over fashion. There are your Academy uniforms, a few loose, unflattering clothes you rotate between. A single formal dress more suited for a funeral than a game night. Nothing impressive because you never had anyone to impress.

You also have no sense of fashion, the trends shifting too quickly for you to keep up. So you’ve stopped trying to.

“Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out,” she chimes. “The girls and I always get ready at each other’s house anyway. And you’re one of the girls now.”

You peer down at you and Clemensia’s entwined hands. One of the girls. No one’s ever spoken about you that way. As if your mere presence made something better, uplifting it instead of leading it to its ruin. As if you were solid, more than a wisp of air, a waste of breath. As if you mattered. So, despite the sizzling weight of Livia’s blue eyes on you, you smile back at Clemmie and give a bashful nod.

Your eyes feast on every detail of Clemensia’s living room as you enter her home. Her parents’ apartment is every bit as large and opulent as you imagined. Every exquisite detail screams wealth. The unabashed, showy kind that stoked the embers of bitter unfairness in the Districts, leading the Capitol to where it is today. A city risen from the ashes. Your attention lingers on the expensive artwork exposed in glass cabinets. A lot of it appears to be memorabilia from before the war. You’re willing to bet the combined value of every overpriced trinket in the house could feed an entire District. Paintings of Clemmie’s illustrious ancestors hang over the damask walls, their stern stares seeming to follow you. Almost as if they were ready to leap from the eroded gilded frames and berate you for being an intruder in their family home.

Clemensia tugs you along.

“What are you dawdling for? Come on,” she urges.

You trail behind her as she takes you to her bedroom. You smile when you see it. The somber, tasteful hues are so very her. The hinges of her wardrobe whine as she opens the large, wooden doors. A vertiginous row of clothes crowd your sight. You gawk, a little amazed but also slightly terrified. Who needs this many clothes? A sour expression scrunches her features.

“I know,” she sighs, placing a hand on her hip. “This is a little embarrassing. Most of these are soo last season.”

You tilt your head at her dizzying collection of shoes, clothes, accessories…the kind a legion of girls would kill for.

“Right,” you blindly agree. Nevermind you can’t even tell the difference. You glance around. “Shouldn’t Livia and Ivy be here too?”

Her brow twitches as she sits on her massive canopy bed. She pats the spot next to her and you awkwardly plop down. The plush silk and soft mattress dip under your weight.

“We decided to meet later,” she reveals. She pauses, a heavy sigh fluttering through her painted red lips before adding, “Besides, I told them to be nicer to you and they got upset and pretended not to know what I was talking about.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble.

She waves her manicured hand dismissively.

“No, don’t be. This isn’t your fault.” Clemensia licks her lips, her face etched with reflection, as if she were assessing the weight of her words before releasing them. Her hand settles on your arm.

“Look, here’s the thing. Livia’s had a crush on Coriolanus since he returned and they had a sort of fling.” Your mouth drops open. This is news to you. You didn’t catch any hint of lingering longing between the two back at their lunch table. But now that you’re mulling it over, perhaps…Perhaps, Livia’s eyes kept seeking Coriolanus’, while his treaded their own path, never crossing hers. “Things were going pretty well...for a little while. But then, you came along.”

Your brows furrow. “What does this have to do with anything?”

Clemensia’s bell-like laughter resonates in the room.

“God, you’re a sweet thing…just like Snow said.” She beams at you. “Don’t worry. Liv will get over it. She’s all bark and no bite, trust me.”

Her attention travels to the dark fabric peeking from your bag.

“What’s that?” she asks, pulling out the garment.

“The only dress I have.”

She inspects it with a displeased frown.

“Were you planning on wearing this?” She shakes her head as your mouth clamps shut. “Oh, this will not do.”

She takes your hand and drags you to her wardrobe. Brow wrinkled in concentration, she rummages through a numberless heap of garments.

“I have some clothes that my cousin left,” she explains while frantically searching. After a while, victory flares in her orbs. She unhooks a sleek, crimson dress with a tight bodice and flowing sleeves from a hanger. She holds it against your body, chiming, “She’s about your size so they should fit you.”

“I can’t accept this, Clemmie.”

You attempt to push her hands away but the brunette shoves it in your arms, insisting on you at least trying it on. You press the soft fabric between your fingers. It’s more revealing and form-fitting than you’re used to. You gather it would cling to your body like a second skin…one you aren’t used to wearing. Still, you must admit that it’s a lovely dress. One that could look good even on you. Temptation claws at your resolve, digging deeper and deeper grooves, right into every insecurity you ever had. That thing other girls had that always eluded you. That little secret you were never privy to. The key to that door that never opened. The dress is the key. And you find yourself unable to resist turning the lock to find out what secrets lie beyond that mysterious door.

Beneath Clemmie’s eager stare, you remove your clothes and slip on the dress.

Smug satisfaction hovers on her lips as you peer at your reflection. Words fizzle out on your tongue. You are looking at a complete stranger.

Clemmie rests her chin on your shoulder. “See? I knew it.”

She then has you sit at her vanity to help you do your makeup. Do your makeup…The words sound alien even in the private confines of your thoughts.

As she draws a neat black line over your eyelids, she says, “It hasn’t been long since makeup’s returned to the Capitol again. It used to be near impossible to find.” When she’s done, she turns you towards the vanity mirror. “Those colors will bring out your eye shape and color.”

The air leaves your lungs in a quick rush. You lean closer to the mirror, once again in disbelief that you are truly looking at your own face.

Fingers twisting the delicate fabric of the dress, you pivot to Clemmie.

“Why are you so nice to me?” you blurt out.

Her eyes widen briefly before her expression softens.

“You remind me of me.”

Confusion surges through you. There is an ocean of glaring differences between you and Clemmie, one you couldn’t swim through if you tried.

“What?”

“Believe it or not, I wasn’t always this confident.”

Your brows knit, Clemmie’s statement making little sense. If confidence wore a face and had a name, it’d be Clemensia Dovecote’s.

Gripping your shoulders, she turns your focus back onto your dolled-up appearance.

“Alright. Look in the mirror, what do you see?”

You blink. You see a girl playing dress-up, pretending, but you don’t utter those words aloud. They sound lame, even in your own head.

“Nothing,” you tritely respond, dipping your head.

She lifts your chin, moving her head to disagree.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Her eyes twinkle. “I see infinite potential. So stop selling yourself short.” Covering her mouth, she laughs. “His jaw is going to drop.”

“Whose jaw?”

She smirks at you. “You know whose jaw.”

Heat sneaks inside your face.

You fidget in the chair. It’s not like what he thinks matters, right? He is no one to you, just that boy with the unsettling blue stare who won’t leave you be for some strange reason.

So why is there a tiny shiver of excitement coursing through your veins when the thought of him seeing you like that permeates your brain?

A vigorous gust of common sense sweeps away your wayward musings.

You don’t care what he thinks. Of course you don’t.

“I-It’s not really my style,” you stammer as you get to your feet.

The sparkle in her onyx orbs doesn’t waver.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have a style yet…so how would you even know?”

“Shouldn’t we be at Livia’s already?” you ask, hoping to steer the conversation in another direction.

She considers you as if you were the most endearing thing in the world. She grabs your hands. “Here’s another rule. Never be on time for anything.” A haughty smirk creeps upon her red lips. “Make them wait for you, not the other way around.” She cocks her head. “One of the things about confidence is knowing that you are the sun, and standing in your orbit is a rare privilege.” She scoffs, “People should feel lucky you even bothered showing up.”

She approaches you and touches up parts of your hair, visibly elated with the result.

“Perfect,” she trills. “Like I said…potential.”

She herself finishes getting ready. As you absently meander about her room, the doorbell chimes.

Clemmie pauses as she applies powder on her face. She sets aside her makeup tools and escorts you to the lobby, arm threaded with yours.

“Must be our chauffeur,” she states.

Your eyes round. “You have a chauffeur?”

She cloisters herself in cryptic silence, humming as she drags you along.

When the brunette swings the door open, a towering, familiar figure darkening her doorway, time hangs still for a few seconds.

Your mouth opens wide enough to catch flies.

A smug smile unfurls on his lips.

“Angel,” he greets, gaze locking with yours as he completely ignores Clemmie.

Her sharp irritated tone shatters the spell.

“You’re late, Snow.”

Coriolanus snickers.

“As if you’re ever on time.”

You trail behind Clemmie as she and Coriolanus keep bantering, his presence still swaddling you in sheer shock. When she tries to take the passenger seat, he drapes a placating hand over hers.

She rolls her eyes and begrudgingly heads to the back of the car.

He opens the car door for you. Recalling the fruitlessness of arguing with him, you climb into the seat. Still, saying you feel awkward riding in the front while the brunette is sulking in the backseat would be a massive understatement.

Few words can accurately describe how peculiar all of this is for you.

“You look surprised,” Coriolanus notes as he takes his own seat and slams the door shut. Your heart misses a beat when his hot breath caresses your earshell. “I did say I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

You look down at your lap. Breathing is laborious, the air in the vehicle coated with the lingering smell of his pricey cologne. You are literally choking on Coriolanus Snow with every breath you take.

“Will you just drive, Snow?” Clemmie snaps, crossing her arms.

“Relax. Patience is a virtue,” he says, not sparing her a glance, zeroing in on you instead. The drumming of your heart swells to an uproar in your ears when he reaches across your body. You hold still while he ties your seatbelt for you. Blue eyes rake over your form in brazen appraisal, his deep voice lowering. “And good things come to those who wait.”

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #tbosas fanfiction #dark!coriolanus snow x reader

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watchmegetobsessed · 10 months

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FRUITY

A/N: here i am, writing yet another concept that origins from @harrysblackcoat i just couldn't stop thinking about it and had to write it

WORD COUNT: 677

SUMMARY: Italy, Harry, pregnancy cravings and an ice-cream crisis solved by your wonderful husband.

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“Grazie mille.”

Harry nods at the man behind the counter after dropping three times more money into the man’s hand than what the two ice-creams actually cost.

“Grazie!” the man breathes out with a happy smile, waving after the two of you as you walk out of the tiny ice-cream shop.

It’s a hot day in Italy, your baby blue sundress delicately hugs on your frame, the fabric softly flows over your growing bump. A fan you bought at a souvenir shop the other day hangs from your wrist. You asked for pistachio and vanilla, the melting ice-cream is slowly dripping down the cone in your hand as you keep on walking down the cobbled street. You lick into the vanilla and it instantly pulls a frown from you.

Why did you even ask for pistachio and vanilla? You’d much rather eat something fruity and refreshing.

Glancing over at Harry you catch him licking into his own ice-cream, he asked for strawberry and lemon, your mouth waters at the sight of the colorful scoops. The hormones are playing you so badly, have been for the past months, especially since you’ve reached the second trimester. Your emotions tend to be all over the place and practically anything could get you to cry.

Your lips start to wobble as you look back at your ice-cream.

“How is it, babe?” Harry asks, oblivious to what just went down in you. Stopping in your tracks, you try to regulate your breathing and stop yourself from crying. Harry notices that you’ve stilled and when he looks at you he instantly realizes that something is wrong. “Hey, what’s wrong? Does something hurt?”

Stepping closer he tries to find what could be wrong, his eyes frantically running up and down your body as his free hand cups your bump.

“No, nothing hurts,” you breathe out, your voice shaking from the tears that are already dwelling in your eyes.

“Then why are you crying, baby?”

“I just… I’m so stupid,” you look at him pouting.

“Why would you say that?”

“I don’t want it,” you finally admit, looking at the melting ice-cream in your hand. “I wish I got something fruity, like you did.”

Harry blinks at you for a short second and then gently takes the cone from your hand, replacing it with his and your heart skips a beat.

“But it’s yours!” you protest, but Harry just shrugs, his free hand taking yours as he pulls you over to a bench. You’ve been walking around for quite some time, he knows your feet must feel sore by now. He’s right.

“It’s yours now.”

“Are you sure?” you ask with puppy eyes.

“Yeah,” he nods and leaning closer he kisses your lips shortly before licking into his new ice-cream.

You watch for a second, so thankful for having him, he is always so thoughtful, he just wants you to be happy and he cares about you, putting you above everything all the time. He is such a good man and you know he’ll be the best father.

You sit on the bench, enjoying the break from the walking as you finish the ice-creams and when yours (Harry’s) is gone, you let out a sigh. One single sigh.

Harry stands up and heads back in the direction you came from.

“Where are you going?” you call after him. Stopping, he looks back at you.

“You want more, right?”

“I, uh…” you trail off, ashamed to admit that you do in fact want more.

“Y/N, I know you,” he smiles at you. “Same flavors?”

“Yes please,” you smile at him shyly.

You watch him walk back up the hill and disappear in the tiny ice-cream shop and a few minutes later he emerges with another cone of icy happiness. Arriving back to you he hands you the ice-cream and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Thank you, you’re the best, H!” you let out a pleased sigh.

“Anything for my girls,” he smirks and watches you eat your second ice-cream with a bright, proud smile.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

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mediumgayitalian · 2 months

Text

“You have horrible taste.”

Will shoots him an exasperated look. “I know,” he says, shoving a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth before speaking because he’s disgusting, “just look at the company I keep. Revolting.”

Nico kicks him in the shin. He dodges, laughing through the pain when he slams his knee against the rickety table in his attempt to flinch away. Nico smiles, satisfied.

“That’s what you get for being a basic bitch.”

“That is not what I get for being a basic bitch! That’s what I get for falling for the biggest grouch at camp!”

Despite himself, Nico flushes, ears going as red as the plastic spoon hanging out of his boyfriend’s mouth. He busies himself with his cone, looking anywhere but at bright blue eyes and a wide, teasing smirk.

“I can’t believe I let myself be seen with you.”

“…Baby.”

Nico shivers involuntarily at the sugar-sweet rumble of Will’s voice, the dragging twang and dropped octave. He meets Will’s eyes like his head was dragged upright with a magnet, melting faster than his ice cream at the heated look he finds there.”

“What,” he manages, well aware his voice cracks and choosing to ignore it. It’s one thing to die of mortification, it’s a whole other thing to go without any dignity at all. He will not be so weak to one godsdamn pet name — he’s the Ghost King.

(Even if the pet name is accompanied by a warm hand on his wrist and fanning gold eyelashes.)

(He has standards.)

(And a reputation!)

(…Gods, though.)

(Will looks good in a tank top.)

“Nothin’,” Will says, holding his hands up in false surrender, “I jus’ think it’s real funny —” he sets down his ice cream, patting his face with a napkin — “that you put on this whole grouch an’ grumble routine, darlin’ —” his voice drops low to a whisper, and Nico leans forward without meaning to, slowly meeting him across the sticky table —“‘cause anyone with eyes can see —” he tilts his face and Nico inhales sharply, lips barely brushing his with every word — “how far-gone badly you are for me.”

“Gods, you’re full of yourself,” Nico gasps, and lets the ice cream fall from his hands and splat on the table as he busies them with sliding into Will’s hair, yanking him close, and proving him absolutely, undoubtedly right.

He tastes like vanilla.

Nico doesn’t mind so much, this way.

#rizzed up will solace my beloved #simp nico di angelo my everything #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #nico di angelo/will solace #nico/will #will/nico #solangelo #established solangelo #fluff #my writing #fic #longpost

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groguspicklejar · 7 months

Text

part 5 of zombie!ghost

you don't know whether to be relieved or horrified.

first, you're immune to the infection and now zombies don't attack you. you look human. you feel human. what gives?

the wound on your hand has healed. you don't feel any different than you have before you were bitten. it was weird enough that Ghost, although infected, was sentient in a way and it would make sense that he'd walk among the infected because his body closely resembles that of one. but not you.

your flesh was still warm. heart still beats, lungs still need air and your blood was still as red as any normal human being.

you wave a hand in front of one zombie. no reaction. the undead man keeps walking. when you yelled at the top of your voice, you caused a bit of a stir. but the zombies that you had attracted only seemed to move around you, looking for the human that was in their territory, brushing past you as if you weren't the one who caused the ruckus.

"huh." you mused, glancing at Ghost. "weird."

but since this technically means you were in no real danger, you smiled and thought of something.

"hey, Ghost." he looked at you. "ever been on a shopping spree?"

you think a wave of terror might have flashed in his mirky eyes.

there's a certain freedom that comes with being immune to a plague that ended the world. first, the most sensible thing to do was find the nearest weapons store and stock up on those, as well as other supplies.

then the fun began.

you had a blast touring through the city. all the pretty stores that you never got to visit were now open to you and Ghost. you tried on designer clothes that you never would've otherwise looked at, let alone even afforded.

"how do i look?" you twirled around in the flow dress, admiring your new look in the mirrors. Ghost grunted and looked away. you pouted and picked the other hanger. "okay, fine. i like this one better."

dresses weren't really ideal in this new norm. so you settled for a pair of new pants and a shirt. Ghost got a new helmet and a mask to hold him his broken jaw. surprisingly enough, he didn't mind the pink mask. you even put a pair of heart sunglasses on him to accessorise his new look.

"oh, those glasses look nice." you cupped his face before picking up the Polaroid camera you swiped from the electronic store. "how about we document this moment? say cheese!"

you took so many pictures, that you needed one of the albums to file them all. you hugged it to your chest with a big smile. "I'm going to treasure these with my life."

Ghost might not be the man he once was. he might not speak or react the way you'd want him to, but his presence alone was enough to keep you going. he's always kept you going.

you were glad he was there when you were bitten. you don't know how you ever could've gotten through that ordeal by yourself. you don't know how he got through it alone and you wished you could've been there for him.

if anything about this adventure means something to him as much as it does to you, you hope he'll remember it if somehow you part ways for good.

he's startled by your sharp gasp and rushes to your side, drawing his gun to eliminate any threat. but there was none.

"ice cream!" you pointed to the parlour and took his hand and dragged him inside. the display was trashed and a complete mess, which was to be expected. but you went around the back. "look, the fridge is still on! you don't think-"

you opened the fridge and squealed. "it hasn't melted!"

Ghost watched your face brighten with absolute joy as you found boxes of unopened ice cream cones and scooped up mountains of the cold desert. something in his chest warmed as he observed you.

he's never seen you this happy in a long time. the only reason he even let you put on anything pink on him is to see you smile. he doesn't think he could've denied you anything when your eyes shine like that.

"it's so good." you hummed gleefully and handed him your cone. "Ghost, you need to try this!"

eventually, you and Ghost wandered into the zoo. some of the animals were still there. mostly herbivores that survived on the vegetation nearby. both of you stayed a good distance away from them as you admired them.

then you gasp at a new sight. the python exhibit.

"think they're still in there?" you asked as you walked closer to it. "c'mon, let's find out."

only, you don't realize that he stopped following you until you went past the sign. you looked behind you to find him standing a few yards away. "Ghost?"

not a sound comes out of him. he only stares at the sign with an expression you've never seen before.

you pulled at his arm but he won't budge. "hey, come on. let's go see."

a low groan is all you get from him. he won't move. in fact, he takes a few steps back. you stare at him, shocked.

this is new. he's never not followed you anywhere.

"Simon?" he looks away from you when you step closer to him, trying to read him. you eyes widen when you came to a realization.

he's... scared.

you glance at the sign. python exhibit. snakes. is that why he won't go in there? as fearless as he's always been, you don't think anything could've frightened him.

"oh... you don't like snakes?" he shakes his head. your shoulders drop. damn, you really hoped to see a python, but if he won't go, then you won't either. "that's okay. we'll check out the other exhibits instead."

you took his hand and started pulling him elsewhere. it's unclear if this was just your imagination or not, but you think he squeezed your hand.

you and Ghost kept going, pushing forward and exploring more of the zoo. some of the animals were still there, even though the cages were open. some exhibits were empty. and some weren't.

you didn't dare to take a look at the skeletons of the animals that had starved to death. most were carnivores. poor things.

as usual, you chattered away while your undead sentinel followed closely behind. in some moments, you think he might actually be listening as you spoke to yourself, but you can't be sure and you don't dare to ask him.

unbeknown to both of you, some of the cameras were still active. and someone was watching.

Cure For Me Masterlist offer a coin to the picklejar this initially started as a drabble to push back against the angst surrounding zombie!ghost but I've been having some thoughts aaand i might turn this into a full fic. banners by @cafekitsune

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skzdarlings · 1 year

Text

the same but different | the threesome series ; skz ; han/reader/felix

masterlist.

threesome series part 3/4.

You grew up with Felix and Jisung. Your definition of normal has always been unique, considering Felix is a faerie and magically connected to Jisung. So even though you are dating Jisung, when Felix tells you he needs to marry to keep up appearences in the faerie court, you see no reason to say no…

pairing: han jisung/reader/lee felix content info: sexual content. threesome. faerie au. this is an almost 16k word read. one day i will meet my maker and have to atone for that. warning for some ambiguous motivations plus general freaky faerie and supernatural stuff. felix and jisung have a magical connection, reader does not know the details but it seems they can physically feel each other's reactions and urges and they do a lot of the same things in an uncanny way. there is a 'consummation ritual' that involves being watched but reader is clever about it.

Autumnal flurries follow Han Jisung everywhere, little tornadoes of red-and-gold kicking up an elemental fuss wherever he steps. It might be a remnant of his time with the faerie folk, or maybe a coincidence, or maybe he is such a blustery font of chaos that he is simply kicking up wind storms on his own.

He totters into the café with his usual trail of leaves, much to the displeasure of the bus boy who follows with a broom. The wind gets restless at the window. It throws itself against the pane with a heavy, reverberating thunder as if nature is knocking in pursuit of Jisung’s attention. You watch a few pine cones hurl themselves at the glass before everything settles down on its own.

Jisung pays it no mind. He slides into the booth across from you, heaving a big dramatic breath.

“Good afternoon,” you say, amused with your boyfriend’s theatrics. They are as constant as his flurries.

“Yo, is it, ‘cause ah, HAHA—I’ve been having a day.” He thunks his head on the back of the booth and pretends to fall asleep. His round glasses skew with the loll of his head.

Jisung dressed up for today’s date. He is wearing a beige coat that flatters his warm complexion plus that cute checkered scarf you gave him last winter. You don’t mind his usual hoodies and caps as it always puts a swagger in his step, but you appreciate his effort even if it is a little random.

He lifts his head with another musical sigh, golden blonde hair fluttering from his breath. His big glasses make his dark eyes even bigger and you smile again.

“Hi,” you say sweetly.

He whimpers with more theatrical misery.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says like it is the most painful fact in the world. “Why are you so beautiful? And funny, and smart, and mine. If you weren’t gonna be ugly and horrible, the least you could have done is reject me. It wouldn’t have been so bad. I could have been a lonely suffering artist, hidden away in a basement, composing symphonies for the beautiful woman out of my league.”

“I think you just described the Phantom of the Opera,” you say.

“Even better.” Jisung sighs wistfully. “He lived in an underground sex dungeon, right? I don’t think he even paid rent.”

You laugh into your hot chocolate.

“What’s gotten into you?” you say. It’s a rhetorical question. Jisung is always a little silly.

Your playful boyfriend thumps his hands on the table and glares past you, out the window.

“Faeries,” he says brusquely. “And their stupid faerie bullshit. My life is a nightmare and an arthouse horror movie and no one has ever suffered more than me—oooh, is that a chocolate croissant?”

You slap his hand when he reaches for your pastry. He yelps like you chopped it off.

“Jisungie,” you say, lifting an eyebrow, “what do you mean faerie bullshit?”

He pouts spectacularly while unknotting his scarf. He speaks in a watery, despondent voice, very contrary to his usual goofiness, “What do you think I mean?”

This, it seems, is also rhetorical as you have no opportunity to answer. The bell jingles above the door and a little shiver moves down your spine.

Unlike Jisung, you have never been to the faerie realm, but you have a gift for recognizing a supernatural presence. Everything catches your eye as if they are sparkling fireflies, no matter their efforts to hide.

The courtly fae, the ones that look human, have a tendency to cast enchantments both literal and metaphorical, their impossible beauty captivating to any human eye. You are not immune to their gravitas, the way space seems to warp around them like earth is little more than gelatinous mire, but you can sense their other-worldliness before seeing them. This is most likely due to exposure. You did, after all, grow up with a faerie.

You look to the doorway.

Ah. Speaking of.

“Oh my god,” Jisung whines. “He said he’d give me time to tell you.” He steals your hot chocolate and takes a swig like it’s hard vodka.

“Tell me,” you repeat. “Tell me what?”

Though you are talking to Jisung, you cannot help but look over at his… his…

His Felix.

Felix smiles when he sees you. He scrunches his nose cutely and it makes his constellation of dark freckles dance on his sunny face.

The freckles have always been an intriguing part of his glamour – for his human-like appearance is a mask shrouding his true faerie form – because faeries typically regard such things as imperfections. Perhaps the freckles are residual from his time in the human realm, as Jisung’s flurries are the opposite.

Felix is unbelievably beautiful. He is wearing mortal clothes but he does not look truly human. There’s something in his movements, fluid and dance-like, sometimes too swift to perceive. His blonde hair catches the light with a perfect glow at every angle, his slender frame flawlessly draped in a black long-coat and a flattering black sweater. His lovely ringed fingers part the air with his little wave and his perfectly pink mouth curls up in a sweet smile. His dark eyes seem to sparkle.

He crosses the restaurant in a few strides, quicker than a human would. He smiles the whole time.

“Hello,” he says, his deep voice smooth as butter. Or maybe you’re the butter, his voice the knife, gliding right down the centre of you and settling low in your belly. It has always had that effect.

“Felix, hello,” you say in that quivery way you always greet him. You grew up with both Jisung and Felix but Felix flits off to the faerie world when it suits him, and every time he returns you find yourself awestruck by him, as if you had never truly seen him before.

Jisung smacks his head down on the surface of the table. You and Felix look at him, you with considerable more concern. Felix just draws his mouth into a flat line, neither smiling nor frowning, more like he anticipated his… his… his Jisung would behave this way.

“Is it okay if I sit?” Felix asks, pointing to the spot beside Jisung. Jisung is somewhat sprawled in the booth but this doesn’t seem to concern Felix. When you nod, he smiles, smooths out his coat, and simply bumps Jisung with his hip to squish himself into the booth.

Jisung whimpers again, resting his head on the wall and pouting at it.

“So,” Felix says. He folds his hands on the table and tips his head, looking at you. “How are you doing these days, hmm?”

Faeries are known for their decorum. It can turn sour very quickly, but it is imperative to adhere to rules of hospitality and general politeness.

It is still strange and unnerving to have a faerie prince plunk himself into your booth and smile at you so politely. Especially when you haven’t seen Felix in more than a year. A year and fifteen days, to be specific, because Jisung has counted them all. Jisung complains endlessly when Felix visits but he complains even more when he’s gone for too long.

You think Felix must have returned to the human realm a while ago. Jisung is usually friendly when he firsts sees him, but right now he is glaring.

“What?” Felix looks at Jisung. They cock their heads at each other, the same angle, same time.

It is always funny seeing them side-by-side. Singularly, they look nothing alike, perhaps because Felix has intentionally deviated his glamour from being identical. Jisung has a round face, cartoonishly cute at times, his build bulkier from his somewhat erratic workout schedule. Felix is all sharp lines with a pointed elegance to his features, though his presence fills what space his slender body does not. Their only similarity is their hair, similarly bouncy, alike in length, and identically shaded. Right now it is a matching blonde.

Despite their ample differences, there is an uncanny sameness to them. They move the same way, tip their heads at the same time, roll their eyes in tandem. They even take a breath at the same time. You are certain if you pressed a hand to each of their chests, you would find their hearts beating to the same steady cadence.

Felix was once a changeling. Faeries sometimes swap their infants for human ones, occasionally for fun, oftentimes when their offspring is sickly or malformed. Once a changeling swap has occurred, the faerie and human are inexorably linked to one another. If the human parents try to kill the faerie or let it die, it will also kill their child, so it is in their best interest to nurse the sickly baby and hope the faeries swap them back.

Felix was born too soon, a shrivelled little creature, third son of the autumn high prince’s third wife. His mother swapped him for Jisung, stealing the little mortal away in his infancy. Jisung’s mother was not a bewildered, simpering mortal, however. Her resilience and intelligence was part of the family’s initial allure, but it was also the downfall of the changeling operation. She ventured into the faerie realm and won back her son, plus the right to see the lonely faerie prince that had been so unceremoniously abandoned by his unloving family.

She returned to the mortal world with Jisung and Felix. The changeling prince spent his childhood bouncing between the human realm and the world of faerie. You grew up next door to Jisung and the three of you have been a tight-knit trio since before you can remember.

You love Felix just as much as you love Jisung, it’s just that… the faerie-ness complicates things. You aren’t sure Felix really loves you or Jisung in a way you understand. Even now, his enquiry after your well-being seems more like a necessary script than genuine question. He will be uneasy until you complete your side of the exchange.

“I’m good, Felix,” you say. “How are you?”

He smiles, freckles dancing. “Good,” he says. “Thank you.”

Felix cracks his neck and Jisung is compelled to do the same, though he looks irritated about it. The depth of their connection has always been ambiguous to you, but sometimes Jisung feels phantom aches and pains, urges that come out of nowhere and pester him like an itch until he satisfies them.

He seems impatient today, his glare not subsiding for a second.

“You said I could have time to tell her,” Jisung says.

“I gave you time,” Felix replies calmly.

“You gave me like five minutes, man!”

“It doesn’t take more than five minutes,” Felix says. He seems genuinely perplexed that Jisung would believe otherwise. He looks at Jisung with a head tilt that Jisung mirrors, then they both look at you. “Hi,” Felix says. “Will you marry me? See. That was less than five minutes. It was five syllables, actually. Well, I guess if you had asked it, you would have said, ‘Will you marry Felix,’ so it would have been six syllables, but that’s still less than five minutes, even if you streeeeetch it ouuuut—”

“I’m gonna stretch you out,” Jisung says, then plants his forehead in his palm. “That came out wrong.”

Felix does not plant his forehead in his palm but he does rest his chin in his hand.

“So,” he says to you, smiling. “Will you? Two syllables, by the way.”

“Shut up about the syllables, dude.”

“Wait,” you say, interrupting their inane blabber. If you leave them to it, Jisung and Felix will dance in verbal circles for hours and still not clarify anything. “Marry you? Why would I— Felix, you know Jisung and I— I don’t understand what’s—”

You love Jisung and Felix. You find them equally attractive, in their own way and as a complimentary pair. As much as you adore Jisung, you feel bereft when Felix is gone for a long time. Your crush on Felix was as inevitable as your romance with Jisung. Only where that relationship has long since solidified into a stable love, you and Felix have never done much more than hug.

Jisung and Felix, on the other hand, have shared their own intimacies. You caught them kissing back when you were teenagers. You got pouty rather than angry, viciously jealous of both of them at once. Jisung was too flustered to speak, mostly chirping like a frightened bird, while Felix just smiled and cheerily said, “Jisungie says we’re practicing.”

“Practicing?” you asked, hands on hips. “Practicing for what exactly?”

Felix frowned, looking confused, like it had never occurred to him to follow that line of questioning.

“For girls!” Jisung exclaimed.

Felix snapped his fingers and nodded. “Right,” he said. “Girls. That was it. Wait.” He looked confused again and pointed to you. “Isn’t she a girl?”

“She doesn’t count,” Jisung said, getting redder by the second. You threw a shoe at him and stormed out of the house.

That was a long time ago. That momentary flicker of suggestion was the only time Felix brought up potentially kissing you. Even then, it seemed less desirous than pragmatic.

And now, for some reason, he is asking you to marry him.

“Oh my god, man, maybe if you used more than five syllables, she would get what’s going on,” Jisung says. His gaze softens when he looks at you. He reaches across the table to take your hand, though it takes you a second to respond. Your fingers are frozen stiff around your mug. “Baby,” he says in a soft, apologetic voice, “I know it sounds a bit strange, but I promise I can explain.”

“I have to get married,” Felix interrupts, ignoring when Jisung scowls at him. “I think it’s just for, uhhh, appearances, basically. My brother Chan just became high prince and I’m the only one of my mum’s kids who isn’t married and she thinks it makes her look bad because all my dad’s other kids have their lives together… anyway, she said either I find a bride for myself or she was going to give me one. And, uh, she’s not very, hmm, generous, is she?”

Definitely a rhetorical question. You do not need to have met the faerie princess to know of her predilection for malice. Felix would most likely be saddled with some Shakespearean donkey-headed monstrosity for all his days. Felix, being Felix, would smile blithely and accept his awful fate, saying little on the matter when prompted.

Felix is like that. He shows neither amity nor animosity to much. His emotions, whatever they are, manifest unpredictably. He smiles a lot of blank smiles. Occasionally he bursts into random tears that flood out of him with terrifying distress. It comes upon him unexpectedly, so big that it is almost theatrical. You think he might be mimicking expressions of human pain to convey whatever interior hurt he is feeling, however severe or benign, then it just stops until next time.

He is not the sort to wail and harass you. Even if he was desperate, he would not force you to marry him. Looking into his dark eyes, you know that much. There are plenty of stories the world over where supernatural princes steal mortal girls from their beds, where they compel them to dance until their feet bleed, where they fill their heads with songs that play until the human goes mad and dies in some anguished pit in their own mind.

There are not many stories where they propose in a café.

“Felix, you idiot!” Jisung smacks Felix on the arm. “You didn’t even tell her the important part.”

“Oh yeaaah,” Felix says.

Jisung scoffs and looks at you, his expression soft again. He squeezes your hand.

“Baby,” he says, “you know how Felix and I have a special, um, connection?”

You know he means the changeling magic but you think about them kissing. You push the image aside, as well as the lingering jealously, and nod.

“Right,” Jisung says. “We’re like… tied together and shit, right? Like if I got hit by a bus, Felix would also go splat.”

“Faeries don’t splat,” Felix says, bristled.

“Splat,” Jisung says sweetly, “like a big stupid faerie pancake.”

“Jisung,” you say, “are you going to make a point?”

“The point,” Jisung says, “is Felix is gonna live a long time, if he doesn’t go splat. So that means… I’m gonna live a long time too.”

“If,” Felix interrupts, “he comes with me to live among the folk.”

The fair folk. Another name for the courtly fae. Divided into seasonal realms, the four courts host a variety of faerie life. Felix is from the autumn court and Jisung was spirited to it as baby. You have never crossed from this world into the faerie world. You know the stories better than anyone, almost more familiar with the foreign realm than the world around you, but its reality has only ever been a distant dream.

This seems like the world’s strangest break-up: your boyfriend leaving you for his changeling faerie to live an immortal life in the faerie realm.

Except it’s not a break-up. It’s a proposal.

“I have no idea what’s happening right now,” you say, juggling feelings of confusion and jealousy and desire. “What does that have to me with me? And getting married?”

“It will bond us together too,” Felix says, smiling again. “Do you understand? Isn’t that wonderful? The three of us can be together for always. I think you’ll really like it.” He looks sideways at Jisung and adds, “And you’re smarter than him when it comes to the fair folk. I would feel better if Jisung had your company.”

“What?” Jisung slaps the table. “What are you talking about? I’m the one who’s been there! I am so totally super smart about faeries all the time!”

“You once ate a magic apple and grew a tail,” Felix says.

“You know I get snacky after my naps. Besides, I got better. Suck on some salty iron and boom, no tail.”

Felix sighs, exasperated, and Jisung sighs, even more exasperated.

“Please marry me,” Felix says imploringly. “For all of us.”

Felix cannot lie. Faerie magic ranges from miniscule to immense, but lying is an impossibility regardless of rank.

An inability to lie does not guarantee honesty. The truth can be obfuscated. Faeries are clever with words, cleverer still what they reveal at all.

Felix has not lied. He needs to marry. It would bond you. You are smarter than Jisung when it comes to the fair folk.

Felix has not told the whole truth. He does not need to marry you specifically. He would be happy with just Jisung, you think. They have something special, something you have always watched from the outside. You know a lot about faeries but you do not belong to their world. Felix could keep Jisung safe. You are a spare.

Despite the loving stare of your two oldest friends, you feel woefully insecure. You take your hands back and rest them in your lap, staring morosely into your cooling hot chocolate.

“Baby?” Jisung says gently.

You look up. They look equally concerned. They reach for you at the same time then look at each other. They mutely come to an accord and Felix takes your hand. You shiver immediately.

“Sweetheart,” Felix says. “It’s just me. I won’t… I won’t make you do something you don’t want to do, but I… I want to know… I mean, do you not…”

“You don’t want to come with us?” Jisung asks, his bottom lip wobbling. Tears spill over his cheeks seconds later. “I-I-I know it’s a bit weird. But you’ve always talked about wanting to see it anyway. And you don’t have any family here anymore. Are you worried about the royal court thing? Because I’m gonna be there and Felix says we’ll spend most of our time at his bower anyway and okay I don’t even know what that means and I didn’t wanna seem stupid so I didn’t ask—”

“It’s just my tree-house, Jisung,” Felix says.

“It’s just his tree-house,” Jisung sobs.

“It isn’t that,” you say. You reach for Jisung so you are holding both their hands. You give them a squeeze. “I love you both. So much. It hurts a little sometimes because of how much. And I’m scared… I’m scared of being left behind.”

They both pause. Felix looks more bewildered than any supernatural creature in history, you are sure. They are inviting you to come along and you express fear of the opposite. It must be incomprehensible to his mind.

Apparently it also confuses Jisung because he softly whispers, “What the fuck.”

You bring their hands together and withdraw your own touch.

“I just mean…” You are too embarrassed to vocalize it.

Recognition lights their eyes at the same time. Jisung rips his hand away.

“I can’t be alone with Felix forever!” Jisung cries. “Are you crazy? We need you! Without you it’s just… just… just us. It’s nothing, it’s empty. You… you’re our person. If you’re not there too… then… then… then I’m not going either. I’d rather get old and die with you than live forever without you.”

Felix’s mouth opens and closes with a storm of unspoken thoughts. He has sobbed spectacularly at birthday cards and scraped knees, but he doesn’t cry now.

Jisung’s exclamation rattles you. It was such a genuine burst of emotion, so rich with devotion that you feel silly for ever doubting either of them. Empty, he said. You never considered what kind of echo might exist between them, how your presence filled it and made it better, not worse.

You intend to remedy your blunder, an apology on your lips, but then Felix finds his words.

“I’ll tell you my name,” he says. “My true name. Will that be enough to convince you?”

Enough?

You and Jisung stare at Felix with your jaws dropped. Felix clenches his jaw, staring back at you.

Faeries go by many names in their long lifetimes. Felix was the name Jisung’s mother gave him, but it is not his true faerie name. Names are powerful things. If a mortal has a faerie’s true name, they can ensorcell and compel that faerie to do their bidding. It essentially enslaves them.

Faeries do not freely reveal their true names, not to other faeries and certainly not to mortals. Tricky mortals have uncovered faerie names, stories of humans triumphing over wicked creatures, but you cannot think of a single story where the faerie got down on one knee and willingly offered it.

Because that’s what Felix does. He gets out of the booth and gets down on one knee in front of you, then looks up at you with dark, desperate eyes.

“I’ll tell you right now if that’s what it takes,” he says. His hands are shaking. The wind starts knocking at the window again, harder than before. Leaves form columns of colour, shooting up to the sky, scattering in every direction.

“Don’t,” you say. “Don’t.” The trust this requires is extraordinarily substantial. It means more than any simple I love you. Maybe Felix feels human love or maybe he feels something different. Maybe losing you is not like losing a person, but like losing a limb or something equally vital. It must be, for him to offer up his entire being in a word.

The gesture means more than you can say. The best way to reciprocate it is by refusing it.

“It’s enough,” you say, choked up. “It’s enough that you would offer.”

“I’ll tell you,” he says, like he thinks you don’t believe him. But of course you believe him. He can’t lie.

“I know,” you say. “I’m sorry I doubted you. Come here please.”

Felix sits beside you and lets you wrap your arms around his neck. He is tentative at first but then he looks at Jisung and holds you tighter. The world outside settles once more.

“Wow, that was intense,” Jisung says. He grabs a napkin and blows his nose. “Wheeew. Wednesdays, am I right?”

Felix pulls back, just enough so he can see your face. You feel shy under his rapt attention, flush with warmth when his fingertips sweep from your temple to your jaw. He holds your chin and tilts your face up. He seems to be studying you. This close, you can see all the shades of brown in his eyes, even flecks of dark, dark green and threads of gold. There is a shimmer to the black of his iris. If he turned a certain way, you think his glamour would disappear. You think he would be beautiful anyway.

He exhales. His breath flutters over your lips.

“Will you come with us?” he asks, his deep voice rumbling so soft and low. “Will you marry me?”

You look at Jisung. You cannot imagine any circumstance in which a man would look so eager for his girlfriend to accept another man’s proposal, yet this feels completely normal.

Normal. The three of you have always had your own definition of that word, haven’t you?

You look at Felix, at the shimmer of his bold gaze.

“Yes,” you say. “Yes, I will.”

Felix smiles and Jisung lets out a whoop! You laugh, turning aside to wipe an unbidden tear from your eye. Felix touches your cheek. He looks more entranced than anything, blinking long and slow like a content cat.

Jisung is still celebrating. He shoves half your croissant in his mouth while you are distracted. Then, with his cheeks stuffed full of pastry, his eyes get wide.

“Ohyeah, weforgotsumffing!” he says around a mouthful of food. He coughs, swallowing too quickly. Felix clears his throat and passes Jisung your mug. Jisung gulps it down while you and Felix exchange an affectionate glance.

Then Jisung clinks the cup on the table and looks at you, sheepish.

“Haha,” he says. “By the way, you have to fuck Felix.”

There are entrances to faerie in the deepest part of the woods. Doorways are found in unlikely patterns that most humans will declare peculiar but innocuous: rings of spotted mushrooms, circular patches of darkening grass, shadows that arch with a perfect curve beneath a canopy of leaves.

You have known this all your life, but you also knew to never go looking. Not on your own. A mortal wandering into faerie is not so different from a lamb wandering into a wolf den.

Even with a wolf escort, you feel like that vulnerable lamb. You hold hands with Jisung the entire trek, trailing behind Felix who hums as he lightly dances his way through even the harshest terrain. Finally you come across two branches, twining up and up until they tangle like two hands clasping across a chasm.

Winded from the exertion of the hike, you and Jisung come to a slow stop to catch your breaths. Felix hurries ahead, his face brightening as he approaches the archway.

“You ready?” Jisung asks, squeezing your hand.

“Yeah,” you say. “You?”

“Oh, hell yeah, baby,” he says with a laugh. You look at him only to find his gaze turned on the archway, faraway with reminiscence. “I remember it, you know,” he says.

“What?” you ask. Jisung has never mentioned this before. “But you were just a baby.”

He looks at you with surprise, like he didn’t expect an answer. Maybe he didn’t mean to say it out loud. He laughs, deflecting the tension, and rubs the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I know,” he says. “Magic I guess, or something. I dunno. I just know I remember it. There’s stuff that happened last week I can’t remember. In a year, or fifty, or a hundred, I don’t know what I’ll remember from here. But I remember this place like I never left.”

You squeeze his hand again. He looks at you and smiles, squeezing back.

“Come on!” Felix calls. He is standing at the archway, waving to you. He is wearing jeans and a t-shirt, a leather satchel slung across his chest. The mundanity of his clothing looks unnatural. If he looked inhuman in that café, he looks even less human now. His glamour is in tact, his freckles pronounced, but there is a quality to him that defies logic. He looks like he could take off flying and it would not be unusual.

You and Jisung exchange a final glance then approach. Felix smiles and walks backwards through the archway. You can see him clearly as if he merely took another step in the woods. He holds out his hands, you and Jisung taking one each, then you step through as well.

Oh.

October orange sunlight pours through the trees, the early sunset colour of a clear autumn day at its close. The woods are a mosaic of colour: green, orange, yellow, red, brown, little swirls of leaves flying from branch to branch, gathering in piles and scattering again. You watch leaves settle over a pile of bones only for the whole apparatus to knit itself together. You stumble to a surprised stop as a cat made of bones and leaves unfurls before your eyes. It scampers up to Felix, rattling like an ivory windchime and somehow still purring. Felix scratches behind its leafy ears, smiling and greeting the kitty affectionately.

“Come on,” Felix says, not noticing the way you and Jisung are completely arrested by the sight of the cat. “It’s not far from here.”

It is the domicile of the autumn court. It is built into the woods, or swallowed by it, grand structures built within and around trees, some abodes very high in the sunlit branches, some disappearing into the ground. They are decorated with garlands of dried flowers, gardens of gourds and harvest fruit weaving around the lower rooms. You jump, startled, when a pile of nearby leaves rises up, revealing itself to be a deer, presumably also made of bones beneath its leafy surface.

“Whoa,” Jisung says, an apt summary. The leaf animals have no eyes, the faces uncanny. The deer turns its neck with a click of bone, dipping its head in a respectful bow to Felix as he passes.

Felix doesn’t notice. He is watching you and Jisung now, smiling with so much mirth you think he might start glowing.

“Do you like it?” he asks, looking directly at you. Maybe he knows what Jisung is feeling without asking. You try to school your expression to show more than just awe.

“It’s beautiful,” you say. You can see how a mortal could be a swept away by the beauty of the faerie court. Between the glitter of crunchy leaves and the wafts of cinnamon and spice, it fantastically overwhelms the senses. You can also see how quickly this dream could turn into a nightmare, if the sun was eclipsed and the undead creatures of the earth turned their vacant eyes on you.

You do not convey the complexity of your thoughts. Felix takes for granted that you always tell the truth, even though he knows you can lie. You think he sometimes forgets. His whole face crinkles up with a smile now, maybe too severely, but you appreciate his attempt to render delight for you.

“A little further to the palace,” Felix says.

“Palaaace,” Jisung says in a sing-song, squeezing your hand. He almost knocks you over when a bird swoops by his head. This raven is real, not made of leaves, and it perches on Felix’s shoulder. “Birds,” Jisung says woefully. “There’s always a freaky-ass bird.”

“This is one of mine,” Felix says, scratching its head. “I think my brother sent it.”

You watch as the bird leans in, eerily person-like in how it seems to whisper in his ear before fluttering off. Felix neither smiles nor frowns, his mouth drawing into a thin line as he comes to a halt.

“What is it?” Jisung asks. His startled tone reveals that Felix might be perturbed.

“They’re expecting us,” Felix says, gazing ahead as if he can see your destination through all the foliage. “They’re already preparing our wedding.”

“What?” you and Jisung say at the same time. You look at each other then you ask, “Did you tell them already?” Felix only proposed yesterday and he has not returned to the faerie realm, unless he snuck away overnight, but you don’t think so. He spent the night with you and Jisung, Jisung insisting on being the little spoon between two big spoons. Felix had his arm around Jisung and his hand in yours all night.

“No,” Felix answers. “I didn’t say anything yet.”

“This feels spoooooky,” Jisung sings, then laughs nervously.

“Maybe,” Felix says with a casual shrug of his shoulders. “Maybe not. Let’s go.”

You and Jisung exchange another look, but you have gone too far to turn around, so you follow Felix. He leads you to a red-bricked path that thickens with moss the further you walk. When you reach the base of a hill, Felix stops to hold your hand.

“Don’t look back until I say,” he says. “You could fall. Keep your eyes on me or the cat. She knows the way too.”

The cat is running around your feet, mewling, though the clack of its jaws is louder than its airy voice. You decide to look at Felix instead. Apparently Jisung picks the cat because he coos, “Aww, she’s kinda cute in a freaky way. What’s her name?”

“Babyeater,” Felix says.

“Oh nooo,” Jisung replies.

You follow Felix and the cat up an incline that grows so steep that at one point you are walking perpendicular to the forest below. You look at Felix the whole time, squeezing his hand tightly. His returned squeeze is reassuring. You remind yourself this is Felix, the same boy who kissed your scraped knees better, who sat through all your childhood tea parties even though he never really understood the concept of playing pretend, the same boy who has dutifully and lovingly obliged your every whim, however much he failed to understand its human purpose. For Felix, it was always enough if it made you happy.

He leads you safely over the crest of the hill, then it’s just a few more steps through a darker patch of woods before you are stepping into a huge clearing, bright and orange and gold. Three massive, broad trees stand in the distance, an elaborate stone citadel built around the trunks. There are faeries and other supernatural entities wandering around an autumnal garden, some scurrying with bundles of lights and candles and drapery. The clearing and castle have been beautifully and frightfully decorated with pumpkins and dried flowers and bones.

“Is this for us?” Jisung asks. “Uh, I mean, for you?”

“It looks like it,” Felix says uncertainly. “I don’t know how they—”

Jisung screams, a proper shrill yell right in your ear, when something bursts out of some shrubbery and blocks his path. You stumble back with wide-eyed surprise and Jisung instinctively shields you even in his terror. Felix is not scared, his face neutral as ever, but his connection to Jisung has him reacting similarly, guarding you with his body.

An eyeless husk straightens itself, bony limbs stretching for the sky. You hear the crack of a neck-bone and the flutter of leaves, then all at a once a glamour settles over the faerie, revealing a handsome young man with short brown hair and dark eyes.

“He’s still loud,” the faerie says. “You were loud as a baby too. Wahhh-wahhhh-wahhhhhh—”

“Seungmin,” Felix says, nonplussed. “Thank you for the raven.”

Felix bows and the faerie, Seungmin, who must be the aforementioned brother, bows back as per the dictation of decorum.

“Chan is mad he had to find out the news from Hyunjin,” Seungmin says, his mouth quirked in a smirky little half-smile. “You better to be ready to grovel.”

“Ah,” Felix says. He looks over at you and Jisung who are clinging to each other, still wide-eyed with surprise. “Hyunjin is a prince from the spring court,” Felix says. “He can see the future.”

“Oh,” Jisung says. “Yeah, sure, makes sense.” He looks at you with a face that says, it definitely does not make sense.

“Spring court,” Seungmin says with a little eye-roll. “They burst in here with a dramatic fuss like always. It’s embarrassing that the high prince of autumn learned about his favourite little brother’s engagement from a different court...”

“I can’t help that Hyunjin sees the future,” Felix says, more disgruntled than you have ever heard him. It occurs to you, as you look between him and Seungmin, that Felix stands out here just as much as he did in the human world. It is different, as here it is the little cracks of humanity that fracture his faerie face. Not just the glamour, the freckles or his clothes, but some intrinsic bearing. Maybe it is the sameness to Jisung, the way they block you with the same stance, the way they shuffle on the same foot. Maybe it’s something else, but it is suddenly pronounced.

Seungmin does not appear to notice Felix’s tone. He just gives another bow which Felix is forced to return. You see Jisung twitching and you squeeze his hand.

“You don’t have to bow,” you whisper.

“I know,” he says, then bobs twice in an aborted half-bow.

You sigh. You jump when Jisung shrieks again, startled by a little leaf-dog that comes running out of the shrubbery. It is being pursued by some frantic sprites. They yammer at the puppy in a faerie tongue as it starts to chase the cat. All their bones are clattering as they run around, cat then dog then sprites. Seungmin blinks at the fiasco then looks at Felix.

“Let’s go,” Seungmin says. He turns and gives you a bow, as is polite, then looks at Jisung and says, “Boo!”

Jisung jumps and Seungmin cackles, bowing.

Felix gives Seungmin a little shove, his mouth a grim line again.

You follow Seungmin further into the garden, coming upon a feast that seems to be currently underway even while servants continue to set the party around the guests. Food appears and disappears off the table, some faeries eating and some of them throwing food at the servants. You have heard stories of ensorcelled human servants being trapped in places like this, but you only see faeries so far. It doesn’t put you at ease exactly, but you don’t feel quite as frightened.

Then all the faerie guests at the grand table stop and look at you. Then you are frightened.

“Hi,” Jisung squeaks.

It is nervously and thoughtlessly blurted, but it would be impolite to ignore it, so a chorus of “hi” and “hello” circles the table in return.

Most of them have a glamour of some kind. A stockier, handsome faerie with bright orange hair stands. He is on the other side of the long banquet table but manifests in front of you in mere seconds. You are very alarmed to find him wearing bandages under a black army coat, the white wraps stained with blood. It is very at odds with his deeply dimpled smile.

“Hi there,” he says, looking past Jisung and straight at you. “Wow, Felix really did it. Welcome. Call me Chan. Sorry for the, ah, blood, I think it upsets humans?” This apology seems sincere enough, accompanied with a tilt of the head, but he offers no further explanation. He pulls you into an embrace, tucking you into the fold of one muscular arm, and laughing with an unexpectedly adorable giggliness. “We have a human little sister. That’s fun, yeah?” He looks at the table and everyone nods and claps, only a few characters mutely unresponsive.

You smile, maybe. It feels a bit boxy. Your brain is fitting all the pieces together, recalling that Seungmin referred to Chan as the high prince of autumn. Chan is thus the highest font of power in this faerie court and he is hugging you.

The hug pulls you away from Jisung who moves closer to Felix. You look at them, watching as they hold hands, trying to convey with your eyes that you would rather be with them.

There is no time for any extraction attempt because a fuss stirs at one end of the table. A pink-haired faerie bursts out of his seat. He is long-limbed, tall and spindly, and he runs around the huge table at a fairly human speed. He is wearing a billowy green jacket and a long string of pearls, his pastel appearance at some odds to the deepness of the autumn court.

“Hey Fee-lix! Heeey!” he says, very literally bouncing when he reaches Felix.

“Aha, hi, Hyunjin,” Felix says.

“You brought humans!” Hyunjin says, sweeping down to look at Jisung, then turning his dark-eyed stare to you. His glamour is astonishingly beautiful, as bright as his pearls, a face like a handsome marble statue and a supermodel’s stature. But he slinks like a ferret, as smirky as a fox. “The bride,” he says with something of a wistful sigh. His dark eyes are sparkling. “A faerie and a human. How romantic. I love romance.”

Then you are freed from hugging Chan, but only because Hyunjin cups your face in both hands and kisses you. Not a greeting kiss either, but a deep kiss. You sputter when he licks you.

“Um,” Jisung squeaks.

“This is High Prince Hyunjin. Of the spring court, of course,” Chan says amiably, not doing anything to stop the high prince of the spring court from sucking face with his brother’s bride.

Hyunjin stops on his own, smiling at you fondly. “Pretty girl,” he says, stroking his whole hand over your face. “I wish I could marry you.” This is spoken without much longing, but it must be true or he couldn’t say it.

He turns his sights on Jisung next. Jisung straightens, eyes darting around for an escape.

“The changeling baby,” Hyunjin says. “He’s so cute now. Can I marry this one, Felix?”

Jisung’s eyes widen, looking at Felix, then at you.

Felix looks unamused. “No,” he says simply.

Hyunjin pouts, slinking up to Jisung. He grabs his face, long fingers grasping him tight. Jisung’s lips part with surprise, his cheeks puffing when Hyunjin shakes his head around.

“That’s not fair,” Hyunjin says. “You already have one.”

“I said no,” Felix repeats.

Hyunjin just sighs. “I knew you’d say that,” he says. “Oh well.” Then he kisses Jisung full on the mouth too, Jisung squeaking through the very wet onslaught. Hyunjin just smiles and strokes his face, then goes back to the table.

Hyunjin’s self-introduction triggers a similar desire in the remaining guests. Soon they are swarming you, forced into the vaguest semblance of a queue when Chan waves a demanding hand. You meet Felix’s mother, who smiles and coos at you like she didn’t mandate a wife in the first place. You meet Changbin, another half-brother of Felix, who thankfully follows the example set by Chan and not Hyunjin and simply hugs you. He is so burly and strong that it lifts you off your feet, but he has enough restraint not to crush you, so that’s something.

There are clusters of other faeries, all noisy, all dipping in bows or trying to kiss you, and all of them from the spring or autumn court. A hush falls over the garden when the remaining guests approach for an introduction. Felix finally appears at your side, Jisung too, standing on either side of you and holding your hands.

“Winter and Summer,” Felix whispers as two courtly fae and their retinues step forward.

You know very well why Felix deigns to warn you. The autumn court and spring court, as per their seasonal equivalents, are shifting and transitory in many ways; they grow and they learn, and they often host humans, be it in a generous or malicious capacity. The winter and summer courts are hostile to change, and both have little to do with humans at all. Whatever human encounters have transpired in those courts have left few survivors to speak of it.

Their glamours fit them strangely, like new clothes not yet broken in. The first prince wears his glamour like a boy forced into dress clothes by a parent, walking with a stiff sort of discomfort. His robes are coloured blue and yellow, long and loose, his blonde hair turning dark blue at the root. His dimples are deep and cheekbones very sharp, and when he smiles he reveals a whole row of long, piercing teeth that he forgot to glamour altogether.

You jump, staring aghast as the otherwise too-pretty prince sweeps into a bow. He looks at Chan, sees him smiling, and copies the expression with a frightful brightness.

“Prince Jeongin,” Felix says. He squeezes your hand, reminding you to bow back. You do so swiftly. “Summer.”

“High Prince,” Jeongin says, laughing for some reason, a wheezing sound.

“You have fourteen older brothers,” Felix says.

“Had.” Jeongin smiles again, his dimples deepening, his teeth glittering. “I ate them.”

“Oh,” Felix says. There is a pause as he looks at you then looks at Jeongin. Your face reveals terror, you are certain, but Jeongin is waiting expectantly. Felix weighs his words and says, “Uh. You must be happy to be congratulated.”

You wonder how you ever thought Felix was strange. He seems so normal suddenly, the only one who finds something wrong with a person eating fourteen brothers. If he did approve, he would not have to word his congratulations so strangely to avoid a lie.

Unless he just did that to appease you, a small voice says in the back of your head. A different truth is not a lie.

You wish you were not such an overthinker. This is Felix. Your Felix. Yours, yours. As much yours as Jisung, who is breathing a little heavier, so it makes Felix breathe heavier, and their combined strain has you close to panting as well.

You are thus all breathless when you meet the final prince, introduced as High Prince Minho of the winter court. He is wearing dark clothes, apparently sans his usual furry winter accoutrements, and his glamour is a barely-there mask that vanishes when the light hits him at certain angles. He wears it like a loosely tied scarf, grudgingly donned. He has not glamoured his eyes, mismatched and vibrant and vacant of all human emotion. He does not smile when he bows. Like Jeongin, he does not hug or kiss you.

He looks you over, his stare raking, then he does the same to Jisung. Whatever he sees makes him laugh, though it is a derisive sound. Then he looks at Felix and says, “They’re fragile. Be careful, changeling.”

When he leaves, Jisung whispers, “Honestly, that last one got me kinda hard.”

“Yeah,” Felix says, unhappily, “I know.”

And just like that, you are trying very hard not to laugh.

You look at Felix and find his returned gaze to be very affectionate. You always thought his regards looked a little too precise, like he was concentrating on forming the appropriate expression, but compared to certain toothy grins and cold laughs, Felix looks positively alight with sentiment. He still looks strange in his t-shirt and jeans, but you think he might look strange anyway.

It never occurred to you before that Felix’s changeling life might have made him an oddity on both sides of the veil.

You feel a pang of sympathy, suddenly.

Felix looks down at where you are holding his hand. You see his gaze flit across to where you hold Jisung’s hand as well. It exacerbates that pang in your chest, recalling your own jealousy when you found them kissing, plus all the years spent wishing you shared their magical connection. It never occurred to you that Felix might feel some type of way about you dating Jisung, about you and Jisung both being human. Maybe it reminded he was an outcast wherever he went. Always very close to being part of something, never quite belonging.

Funny enough, Jisung has always been significantly more blasé. He sets his sights on what he wants and it never occurs to him that he will not have it. He has Felix, he dates you, you marry Felix, he lives forever. You look at your human boyfriend, at the way his dark eyes seem to sparkle as he looks around the garden. You think somehow, despite his occasional shrieks and frights, he looks more home here than Felix.

“Right then!” Chan suddenly claps in your face, startling you. “It’s wedding time, yeah? We’ve never had a human wedding here before but Hyunjin is an expert so he helped us out…”

Two faerie servants rip you away from Felix and Jisung. Hyunjin follows you, looking very keen, his hands clasped behind his back but his whole face lit up brightly. His eagerness does not put you at ease, nor are you reassured by his seemingly “expert” advice. Seeing as he thought it was appropriate to introduce himself by making out with you, you sincerely doubt he is the human expert he has proclaimed himself to be.

Sure enough, the slapdash preparations are very random. You are shoved into a very pretty dress, but then Hyunjin attempts to adorn you with both a veil and a headpiece, and you can see an array of other accessories from international wedding regalia. Being as polite as possible, you decline the offer to any headpiece at all.

“Wow,” Hyunjin says, cupping your face. “You are so humble. Humans are so amazing, the way they just let themselves be ugly. Wow. Wow. I won’t interfere with your hideous but humble head. Should we kiss again?”

“I think it’s better we don’t,” you say. “It might wrinkle the dress?”

He nods sagely. “That would be bad,” he agrees. “Especially because your head is so bare and horrible. The dress is doing all the work. Can I put flowers in your hair or do you really prefer to be ugly?”

“Uh, flowers, yeah, sure,” you say. He says everything so frankly that you somehow can’t feel offended. A compliment would feel just as meaningless.

“I’ve always wanted to attend a human wedding,” Hyunjin says. “You know, spring is a very popular time for human weddings. But humans are always dying so fast after, so it makes me sad to watch them properly.”

“You feel sadness?” you ask. Though Hyunjin and Felix seem quite different, perhaps you can glean an answer to the depth of faerie emotions. Especially considering this marriage business feels like an entirely different beast now that you are in a wedding dress with an entire congregation of faeries sitting in a garden waiting for you. It seemed like a simpler affair when it was just Felix and Jisung in a café booth.

“Oh, of course,” Hyunjin says. “I feel sad all the time. I feel sad right now because you aren’t marrying me.” He says this with a great deal of joviality, smiling at you like he’s proud of his supposed sadness.

You decide not to ask more questions on that front, because you doubt his answers will be very helpful. You do enquire after the wedding festivities. You try not to frown at the very random assemblage of traditions he has baked into a single ceremony. It sounds like a tedious affair but you decide to brace it, supposing it could be worse.

“Then we all watch the royal consummation,” Hyunjin says casually, adding another flower to your hair.

You grab his wrist without thinking, stopping him.

“Did I stab you?” he asks, blowing on your head to check for blood. “Sorry. I keep forgetting pins in heads kill humans.” He says this with a lot of exasperation, like it’s a personal inconvenience to him that humans die so easily.

“No, it’s not that,” you say. He pops another peony on your head, manifesting the little buds out of thin air. “What do you mean ‘we all watch the royal consummation?’ Who is ‘we’?”

“The high princes, obviously,” he says, tucking a rose behind your ear.

You stare ahead, mouth hanging open.

Yesterday seems so long ago now, but Jisung and Felix did explain to you that the autumn court required an act of consummation to legitimize the marriage. Apparently it has nothing to do with virginity or rearing heirs, mostly functioning as a ritual for the sake of itself. Once faeries decide something is a rule they must follow it.

You were very hot in the face the entire conversation. Jisung seemed content to describe the way you need would have sex with his changeling faerie, but you were too embarrassed to meet either gaze.

Maybe it would have been easier if you did not want to sleep with Felix. If it was just a necessity, it would be meaningless.

But you very much do desire Felix, even if he only smiled blithely during the discussion. He seemed unaffected while you were very flustered.

This is a very different type of flustered.

“I was not told there would be an audience,” you finally say.

“There isn’t usually,” Hyunjin says. “But that’s how human princes do it, if I remember. A whole council watches. Felix doesn’t have a council, though, so we’ll have to do it. It would be very rude not to indulge your human traditions. There! All done.”

He steps back to admire your appearance. You are still frazzled from the conversation, from the strong floral scent that is now wrapped around you, from everything.

“You look—” Hyunjin pauses, then, “—not horrible at all! I did a very good job. Now the wedding can start. I’ll tell Chan to start killing the sacrificial wedding goats. We only have one and it’s made of leaves and bones but I assumed that would be okay with you. This way we can just keep killing the same one over and over again. I’ll be right back.”

“Can I—” You feel panicked. You need to see Jisung. Hyunjin has you sequestered in some little golden alcove. You do not want to be hunted down if you just flee, so you ask, “Can I go look at myself in a mirror?”

“You’re testing me,” Hyunjin says, his long fingers covering his mouth with a surprised gasp. Then he giggles. “I passed! I know you can’t look at the bride before the wedding. Wait here!” Then he disappears out the gate and around the corner.

You sit down in a huff and close your eyes. You try counting backwards from one hundred to calm yourself, but you reach the low twenties and still feel tense.

Then you hear the patter of human footsteps. You know it is a human because faeries scarcely disturb the ground where they walk. You hear the crunch of leaves and lift your head, feeling a rush of relief with Jisung pokes his head into the alcove.

“There you are,” he says. “Felix is – uh – they’re getting him – dressed – and I wanted – wanted you—”

You stand as he talks, as his voice drifts, as his breath catches. He looks down the length of your dress then back up, his dark eyes watery as he exhales with a gut-punching whoosh.

“You look so beautiful, baby,” he says. “This – this feels weird. I know it’s – weird. But it’s not – it’s not wrong, right? It’s just weird. But weird isn’t bad. It’s just—”

“Weird,” you say, with a little laugh. “Yeah. I know.”

He smiles softly. He wore his glasses here but he has since put in contacts. His hair is neatly styled and he changed into slightly nicer clothes, still human world, but very handsome in his black pants and black shirt. He is so handsome that for a moment you forget about all your worries, taking a step towards him with your hand extended. He catches that hand, bringing it to his shoulder. He sweeps you into a kiss that banishes all your bad thoughts, the familiar taste and feel of him engulfing you. You sink your fingers in his hair, parting your lips under the press of his mouth.

It's him who ends the kiss, breathlessly, stuttering, “S-sorry, wait. I came here to tell – to tell you – the consummation – that pink guy—”

“I know,” you say with a cringe. You bury your face in his neck. “Ugh, a bunch of faeries are gonna watch me have sex.”

“Faeries and me!” he says with a nervous laugh.

“Huh!”

“I tried to stop it, but no one would really listen to me,” he says. “Someone only listened when I said it was weird for a guy to watch his little brother have sex, and some people agreed, so Prince Chan said I should take his place, since there were no faeries of equal rank to him and at least I was human.” He slaps a hand to his forehead. “Sorry. I tried.”

“Oh, Jisung,” you say, giggling a little helplessly at your morose boyfriend. “How do you get yourself into these situations?”

“You’re wearing a wedding dress!” he replies.

“That’s only because I know you!”

“Your life would have been very boring without me,” Jisung says, smiling.

“I know,” you say. “It would have been awful.”

Because for as strange as all this faerie nonsense is, you cannot imagine a world where you never knew Jisung, where you never knew Felix, where you never had this love in your life, as messy and jealous and complicated as it has been at times.

You tip your head, gazing into Jisung’s eyes. He shivers when you twirl a bit of his hair around your finger.

“Jisungie,” you say, thinking of your own jealousy, of Felix’s confounding glances. “Do you ever feel jealous at all?”

“Of what?” he asks, totally innocent.

“I don’t know,” you say. You are not sure how to explain it without seeming ridiculous, which puts it into some perspective. “I mean, me and Felix are about to… you know.”

“Uh, yeah. That’s okay. I don’t want to have sex in front of the cannibal faerie,” Jisung says, making you laugh. “Not a joke!”

“I know, I know.” You kiss his cheek.

“I couldn’t be jealous of you two,” he says, looking contemplative, as if this has never really occurred to him before. Then he looks at you a bit sheepishly, his gaze skittish in how it darts around.

“What?” you ask, recognizing his shy mischief.

“I think it’s… uh… kinda hot?” He rubs the back of his neck. “I love you and I guess I also love that stupid faerie boy. And… maybe… I kinda wanna see…”

You feel very hot again.

“You, um, want to watch Felix fuck me?” you ask, frankly as you can.

“Yes.” He stares straight up, his ears gone completely red and his cheeks turning pink. “I think you’ll look hot together. I was kinda hoping we’d do something like this one day. I mean, the cannibal faerie is a surprise, but other than that…”

You kiss him. His arms circle your waist and he tugs you close, the kiss deepening naturally. You let all your flustered embarrassment fizzle away, thinking about Felix, thinking about Jisung. You get a bit handsy, squeezing Jisung’s biceps then resting your hands on his chest. He makes a little sound into the kiss, one of his needy whimpers. It never fails to light you up.

“I’m nervous,” you say, speaking low, against his lips. “Thinking about so many of them watching me and Felix…”

It is clear by his gulp and frantic nod that Jisung finds the scenario sexier than he should. “Yeah, baby,” he says. “What can I do?”

You know the faeries will be occupied with Hyunjin’s myriad of rituals for a while, so you peck his lips and ask, “Get me ready?”

“Ready,” he repeats. His gaze jumps up to the flowers in your hair. “You are ready.”

“Not like that,” you say.

Jisung really does his best to be appropriate, but he gets pussy-drunk faster than any man you have ever known. A suggestion is all it takes. You tap his shoulder and he obediently drops to his knees.

“Baby,” he says in a reverent whisper, sighing, eyes closing when you run your fingers through his hair.

Heavy-lidded and so seemingly submissive to your desire, Jisung looks up at you. Then he reaches past you, grabs the chair by the leg, and yanks. He is not too gentle, spilling you onto it with a forceful nudge.

You know Jisung does nothing by halves. He is singular in his passions. You ask him to kneel, so he kneels, so he closes his eyes, so he opens his mouth. He pushes your dress out of his way and licks through your panties until the fabric is sticky and you are so so wet that it clings to you. Your thighs tremble and he whimpers softly, high and light in the back of his throat.

“Jisungie…”

“Shh, shh, shh,” he says in a raspy voice, drawing the fabric aside. “It’s okay. Don’t cry. I’ve got you, baby.”

He speaks so sweetly, like he is incapable of being mean, even while he torments you with long, twisting strokes of his tongue, never committing to a single pattern. It is a storm of sensation, rolling through you over and over again. You are so sensitive that slightest nudge feels like a miniature orgasm all on its own. You gasp and whine, trying and failing to close your legs around his head.

“Jisuuung,” you say, your voice rough. “We don’t have much time, I need to come…”

He moans when he buries his tongue in you, when he licks messily up past your clit and back down again. You grab his hair and tug, though it does nothing to deter him.

“Your husband can make you come later,” he says, giggling an inch from your pussy. “I’m just warming you up…”

“Please,” you say, “please, please, please.”

“Hmm?” is his reply, then he sighs and dives back.

Your eyes close, brow furrowing in concentration. You rock your hips against his mouth as he finally starts circling your clit with a single-minded resolve. You feel flushed and shaky, pleasure and heat coursing through you, and you know you must look as ravaged as you feel.

You open your eyes and see Felix standing in the entryway. He looks astonishingly beautiful, his long blonde hair neatly styled back, his freckles pronounced and eyes so dark. Long earrings made of sparkling orange gems dangle from his ears, looking at once like rippling flames and water running over bronze. He is dressed in an approximation of a tuxedo, except the pants are leather and the shirt and blazer are cropped too short.

He tips his head, his eyes on Jisung for a moment. Then he holds your gaze unflinchingly, maybe daringly. His smile appears slowly. It is too gentle to be lecherous, tender despite the fact his gloved hand runs over his belt and tugs. His tongue touches his bottom lip and he tips his head the other way.

His presence startles you for a moment. You should feel caught, or embarrassed, or something. But the initial surprise fades and you just stare back at him. You dig your fingers into Jisung’s hair and breathe harder as he strokes and strokes and strokes you with his tongue.

Felix exhales. His smile is still soft. He lifts a darkly gloved hand and gestures to you, curling two fingers, a suggestive come here.

Then Jisung’s hand goes from your thigh to your pussy, two fingers curling inside you without any resistance. Felix’s smile curves into a pleased, satisfied smirk. He nods.

You come, holding Jisung’s face against your pussy, letting him moan and whimper with his own pleasure as you roughly fuck his mouth. When he lifts his head, his mouth is so obscenely wet that you throb with a renewed ache of desire.

“I think you’re ready now,” Jisung says. He lowers your legs and slowly slides his fingers out of you. Your breath catches, swallowing up a sound of a surprise when he uses both thumbs to spread your pussy open to his gaze – his and Felix. Your head feels fuzzy and not with faerie magic.

“I think so,” Felix says.

Jisung does not seem surprised by his voice. He lets you go, your dress falling back over your lap. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and looks over his shoulder at Felix. Felix approaches, his steps silent despite his big black boots.

You watch. Jisung’s bottom lip twitches. He looks up at Felix with the same hazy intoxication he looked at you. Felix bites the tip of a glove, pulling the fabric off with his teeth, then he swipes his thumb across Jisung’s glistening mouth. Felix brings that thumb to his own bottom lip, his tongue only just swiping the tip of it.

Then Hyunjin struts into the alcove and slaps a shocked hand over his mouth.

“What are you doing?” he demands. You think he is going to remark on the man kneeling at your feet, not to mention your sexually dishevelled appearance, but then he says, “Felix. You’re supposed to have a hat.”

“I don’t need a hat, Hyunjin,” Felix says with a sigh. “I would like to talk to my bride for a minute.”

“That is impossible,” Hyunjin says. “You need a hat. Come with me.”

It occurs to you that you are watching the two most emotional faeries in their courts, even if those emotions are aimed in strange directions, like hats. Because Hyunjin is very adamant and Felix is very annoyed. You are more than a little concerned that if things come to a head, it will turn horrifying without much effort.

Then Jisung leaps to his feet and puts himself between the two faerie princes. It surprises everyone to silence. Even Hyunjin stumbles to a stop. He cocks his head like a predator regards a measly scrap of prey, eyes flashing as he takes a menacing step forward.

Felix has no time to react. You have no chance to scream.

Jisung is a step ahead of everyone.

He bows. Hyunjin stumbles to a stop for a second time. It takes him a second to realize what has happened but when he does his eye twitches. He bows back, then straightens with a huff.

Jisung bows again. You slap a hand over your mouth to hide your surprised laugh. Hyunjin looks far less amused. Glaring, he bows too, as per the rules of politeness.

Jisung leaps to the side and bows again, forcing Hyunjin to follow him. He does this twice more, leading Hyunjin to the exit, bowing back and forth the whole time.

“Make him stop!” Hyunjin shrieks.

“Okay, okay!” Jisung says, hands raised in surrender. He bows one more time, swooping low, then he turns and runs as fast as he can.

Hyunjin, obliged to return the bow, goes chasing after him with a frantic yelp.

“Is he gonna be okay?” you ask, springing to your feet. You dress falls neatly down.

“Yes,” Felix says. “Hyunjin won’t hurt humans. He likes them too much.” He turns to you then, his expression returned to a more passive neutrality, though you do not miss the way he looks you over. “Will you be okay?” he asks. “I’m sorry. I thought we would have more time when we got here. I didn’t know they would do this.”

“It’s okay,” you say, too shy for a conversation after he very much watched you orgasm. “Um. Might as well, I guess… get it out of the way.”

“Yes.” He frowns at this, turning aside. “You want to… get it out of the way. I understand. I’m sorry it had to be this way. You don’t want to marry me.”

He says it so plainly and without any hesitation. He must believe it is the absolute truth. For a moment, you can only stare at him, his handsome profile, the tendrils of sadness that tug at his features. How did you never see it before?

“Felix,” you say gently. He does not look at you. You touch his arm and he looks at your hand. “Felix, I am happy to marry you. I love you.” He looks up at that, his brow furrowed. “And Jisung,” you add. “I’m… I’m glad it happened this way. So that you and I—” He turns to you and your heart skips a few beats, affected by the warmth of his steady gaze. “So that you and I could come together as well. And now the three of us—”

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, then looks aside. “I’m sorry. That was forward, yeah? I just… don’t want the first time to be out there. Is that strange? To be honest, sometimes I don’t know what’s strange or what isn’t. The rules are different everywhere, you know? I don’t think I’m doing a good job of this. I’m sorry. We don’t have to—”

You cup his face and kiss him. It is very stiff for a moment, because you are both surprised by your brazen action. He somehow grounds himself first, a careful hand curling around your hip to guide you a little closer. A breath passes between you then he kisses you back.

You touch his chest, making a sweet small sound into the kiss when his lips slide so softly against yours. You are about to deepen it when Jisung interrupts with, “Aww, you’re kissing! So cute!”

You and Felix look over at him. His hands are clasped and he is gushing as only Jisung can.

“I thought you were running,” Felix says, with a hint of amusement.

“Stupid labyrinth led me back here,” Jisung says. He mimes zipping his lips shut and gestures to you. “Keep kissing. Pretend I’m not here.”

“I wouldn’t want to pretend that,” Felix says, so sincerely that Jisung’s eyes widen. They look at each other for a long moment, then Felix looks at you. He cups your face.

Then Hyunjin comes running in. He swings his arms in a dramatic flail and flower petals fly everywhere. The leaf dog comes running in and starts nipping at the air, trying to catch the petals. In the midst of this chaos, Hyunjin storms up to Jisung and promptly bows. Then he shoves him to the side and grabs Felix by the arm.

“Hat!” he shouts. “Now!”

It is a twenty-six hour wedding ceremony. You and Jisung fall asleep halfway through festivity number twelve, curled up under a furry blanket near a fire pit. You wake when Felix lifts your head into his lap. Jisung is already curled up with his head on your belly, so you smile and snuggle into Felix. He cups your face and strokes your cheek, the flickering firelight casting shadows on his face, making his smile seem bigger than usual.

The consummation ritual is last. It takes place inside the castle, in a beautiful room that appears to have been designed for this express purpose. The mossy stone walls are decorated with dried flowers, the plush bed laden with thick red throws and burgundy cushions. Despite the tall open windows, there is no autumn chill, a lit fireplace cozying the room with its warmth.

It would be a lovely chamber if not for the translucent curtain with a literal audience behind it. The winter and summer princes sit ramrod straight, so uninterested in their surroundings that it actually puts you at ease. Hyunjin looks… a little too eager to be honest, but you aren’t convinced he understands this ritual anymore than anything else today.

Jisung is side-eying Jeongin, who is sitting beside him because Hyunjin refused to sit by ‘the annoying changeling brat’. Minho is sitting between Jeongin and Hyunjin, casting the occasional side-eye to the spring prince. Despite his stoic countenance, his displeasure with the company is clear.

Honestly, the whole tableau is quite comedic. You find yourself trying to stifle laughter when Felix finally arrives. You were sent to separate rooms to undress and change into robes, but you arrived here first. Felix looks at you curiously, clearly perplexed by your laughter.

“You’re not nervous anymore,” he observes.

“No,” you say. “I’ve just been thinking like a faerie.”

He tilts his head at that. You smile and kiss him, a chaste kiss that makes his lashes flutter. The little reaction tickles a flurry of butterflies in your belly. You hold his hand and lead him to the bed where you sit down. His eyes shift with a nervous scuttle, but he follows the direction of your hand when you gesture to him.

You keep your eyes on his, intensely locked as you lift his hand and take two fingers in your mouth. When you close your lips around his fingers and gently suck, his breath catches. It echoes in Jisung.

Then Jeongin whispers loudly, “Is she going to eat him?” He sounds moderately intrigued.

“Be quiet,” Hyunjin replies.

“I think it’s over,” Minho says, catching onto your ruse before anyone else.

You smile and open your eyes. You separate from Felix and turn your head to the silhouettes beyond the curtain.

“A penetrative performance,” you state. “I believe that was the requirement. And I believe that should qualify.”

You are stretching the meaning of those words and you know it, but that’s what faeries do. His fingers ‘penetrated’ the breach of your mouth, so it should count on the most technical level.

“All done,” you say with a smile and wave.

“So you’re not eating him?” Jeongin says, frowning.

Minho is the first one to stand. He flicks Jeongin’s forehead as he passes, but otherwise says nothing before fleeing the room. Jeongin follows with a slightly disgruntled shuffle, then Hyunjin stomps his foot.

“Humans,” he says, marching past Jisung.

The door closes behind Hyunjin. Jisung claps a hand over his mouth and laughs into it, so hard he has to put a hand over his stomach as he doubles over. Felix laughs too, a pleasantly low rumble that he tries to stifle with a cough. You smile up at him, leaning back on your palms and admiring him in the warm orange light. He tucks some hair behind his ear, regarding you with a very tender gaze when he nods his head in a curt little bow.

“All done,” he says. It makes your brow furrow: the little shift in tone, the tension that still draws his shoulders back. You realize that even after everything, he is still uncertain about his place. Even Jisung knows where he belongs, not for a moment thinking he should leave the room, but Felix takes a step away from the bed like he intends to do just that.

You grab his hand, drawing his attention back to you. Blonde hair falls around his face, shadowing it. He doesn’t quite meet your eyes, gaze somewhere on your chin.

“Felix,” you say. His fingers tighten around yours and it feels like a question. You answer by tugging that hand, drawing him closer. His eyes flash gold when you drop his hand to open your robe. This time you can hear Jisung’s sharp breath too, all laughter subsiding as you let the robe fall off your shoulders, laying yourself bare before Felix.

He looks awed but stricken. You can see when he swallows. He looks at Jisung then back at you, his brow furrowing. His lips twitch in a bid to speak but no words come.

It would be funny, this supernatural being somehow struck dumb by you in your most vulnerable state, but your smile is more affectionate than amused.

“Felix,” you say again. “Have you ever done something like this before?”

He shakes his head frantically, his eyes still running up and down your body.

“No,” he says. “Uh, no. No. I can – feel something when Jisung – when you – I mean—” He chokes on an awkward laugh, turning away for a second.

“I fucking knew it!” Jisung says, poking his head between the folds of the curtain. “Bro, you’re such a liar. I asked if you could feel when we fuck and you said no!”

“I can’t lie,” Felix replies, turning to Jisung. He forgets to be embarrassed while arguing, very plainly and patiently stating his case. “I told you most faeries don’t think about sex like humans and that I couldn’t be certain what you were doing, yeah? And I can’t. And I would have told you more but you only asked the first time and I didn’t know you were going to keep… being with her. And I – I didn’t want to make things awkward… for you… okay? By thinking of me every time… so I just… What are you smiling at?” His deep voice breaks, pitching comically higher for a second.

Jisung is smirking and nodding, just a floating head with a vague silhouetted body behind the curtain.

“Man,” Jisung says, “you’ve been acting like a monk but secretly jacking it while we get freaky in the other room… That’s naughty.”

Felix draws his mouth into a flat line then looks at you for help. You are trying to hold in your giggles, lips pressed tight together. When he looks at you, you exhale, waving at Jisung to back down for a second. He ducks behind the curtain again, giggling to himself like the menace he is.

Fortunately, Felix is easy to distract. All it takes is opening your legs for his all his attention to zero in there. He swallows again.

“Sounds like we’ve been teasing you too long,” you say, your voice drawing his eyes back up to your face. You smile and beckon him forward. “Come on. Let me make it up to you.”

He looks like he is going to deflect politely, either because he is a faerie or because he is Felix, but then you grab his robe and yank him closer. He stumbles up to you, his fingers fluttering at his sides and his shoulders still tense. You take one of his hands and place it on the side of your face, soothing him with another gentle smile as you unknot his robe.

He is already very hard and this seems to fluster him, but he points to the curtain and sputters, “He’s – touching—“

“Fuck yeah I am,” Jisung says.

“Jisung, shh,” you say, trying not to giggle again. “And slow down. You’re always so impatient.”

“Am not,” Jisung says, but you can see him lean back, folding his hands behind his head.

You look up at Felix, holding his gaze the way you did when you sucked his fingers. You like the way he twitches and breathes harder, the way his eyes flash, the way his jaw clenches. His thumb curls under your jaw when your mouth slides over him. You can’t help but moan when his whole face contorts with more natural emotion than you have ever seen from him. His breath stutters and stops and starts, his sounds so low and guttural that you feel them inside you.

“Oh, fuck, dude,” Jisung says, rasping. You pull back just a little, drooling and stroking with your hand, and glancing at Jisung out of the corner of your eye. He lifts his hips and squeezes himself over his pants. “We were fucking torturing you, holy fuck.”

“Mmmmrrgh,” is the approximate sound Felix makes. His eyes are partially-lidded, his expression one of immense concentration. He pulls your face back to him with a flick of his wrist. Appetent and quite demanding, he leads your mouth back onto him and holds you in place to shallowly and gently fuck your mouth. He makes a pleased sound, one of deep relief, his head lolling back and the tension leaving his shoulders.

You let him set the pace, matching the animal instinct that overcomes him. He stops himself when he’s close, breathing hard and stepping back. You want to ask if he is okay, but you have to flex your jaw and your voice is momentarily shot. Before you can find that voice, he turns to the curtain and says, “Show me what you did earlier. I want – I want to do that too.”

There is a quiet moment, Jisung maybe surprised at the sudden attention, but then the curtain parts and Jisung steps all the way through. He has unbuttoned his shirt to the navel, his partially unzipped pants doing nothing to hide the bulge behind his fly. The sight of him sets off more sparks, especially when he winks at you with all his cheeky wantonness.

Felix gives Jisung a once-over too, pushing a hand through his hair and steadying his breathing. His features look sharper than ever, darkened with a determined resolve. He says nothing when Jisung sweeps behind him. Jisung wiggles his eyebrows at you while he gathers Felix’s robe and slides it off his shoulders.

“She likes your freckles,” Jisung offers by way of explanation, smooching Felix’s freckled shoulder with a playful little mwah.

Felix tilts his head and looks at you. “Really?” he asks. “I can’t fully scrub them off the glamour. I think it’s somehow your fault.” This is aimed at Jisung.

“Everything’s my fault!” Jisung says with a great deal of pride.

“Why would you want to get rid of them?” you blurt, showing just as much as horror as you did when meeting the cannibal faerie. Felix without his freckles is equally abhorrent.

Felix looks at you, thoughtfully. Firelight is flickering over the room but you do not think it is a trick of shadow when his freckles seem to darken everywhere.

“Aw,” Jisung says. “He’s flirting.”

Felix looks at him with a certain degree of exasperation. “Show me what I asked,” he says.

“Oh, wow, okay, geez, pushy,” Jisung says, circling so he standing beside Felix. Felix drops the rest of the robe, evidently not the slightest bit shy to be standing there naked. Now your gaze is the roving one, jumping between them, darting upward when Jisung cups Felix’s face and turns it to him.

“You need to turn her on first, man,” Jisung says, swaying to the playful rhythm of his own voice. Felix follows, but his eyes narrow into judgemental slits. Jisung seems unbothered by this, standing still, tucking some hair behind Felix’s ear. “C’mooon,” he says, with an impatient little shoulder wiggle and a laugh. “She likes you… she likes me… as they say… badda bing badda boom…”

“I don’t think they say that during sex,” Felix says, frowning.

“He’s right,” you say, giggling.

Jisung sighs and looks at you. “No audience participation,” he says, miming a zip across his lips. “Just sit there and look pretty, baby. We’ll get to you.”

Felix looks at you. Jisung leans close to whisper in his ear. You try to decipher what he is saying based on Felix, but all Felix does is furrow his eyebrows then look sideways at Jisung. There is a moment of quiet, then they smile at the same time.

Felix delicately cups Jisung’s chin.

The last time you caught them kissing, it spurred only jealousy. But that was different. That was your childish reaction to exclusion, your own anxieties speaking over everything else. This time, you are not outside of their connection. You even swear you can feel the faintest tingling on your own lips when they gently come together in a feather-light kiss.

Their hands trace similar paths, Felix’s slipping into Jisung’s pants and Jisung touching him back. The kiss deepens until their tongues touch, then Jisung giggles while Felix grins. They look at you at the same time.

“Go,” Jisung says, nudging Felix forward.

They let go of each other and Felix climbs up on the bed, guiding you backwards until your head is on a pillow. Long tendrils of blonde hair brush your cheeks. He lays over you and kisses you, pressing your head into the cushion. Even lost in his kiss, you can sense Jisung with a fuzzy awareness. You recognize the familiar touch of his palm, his hand gliding up your inner thigh. Felix makes room, joining Jisung at your thighs. You twitch with an instinctive little jerk, pushing yourself up on your elbows to look at them. Jisung puts a finger over his lips and shushes you, smiling.

“We got it, we got it…” he says. He cups the back of Felix’s head and pushes his head down to your pussy.

Felix glances up at you, then him, then down. His eyes close and he sticks out his tongue, his expression one of the sweetest pleasure when he puts his mouth on you. What he lacks in skill, he compensates with eagerness, messily diving in with an open mouth, licking and kissing and making a mess of himself. Jisung threads his fingers into his hair and tugs, laughing a little.

“Easy, easy,” he says. He and Felix look at each other as Jisung lowers his own face. When he puts his expert mouth on you, your head falls back, thighs parting further. You throw your arms over your head and dig your fingers into the cushions. You chase the rhythm of his tongue, looking down when it stops, when Felix replaces him.

“See, look at her,” Jisung says. Felix looks up at you. “Just like that.”

Then Jisung joins him. They torturously alternate whose mouth is on you. Jisung dives at Felix, licking across his wet lips and kissing him before returning to you. You can hardly tell one mouth from the next, gasping under two tongues as they stroke you and each other, matching blonde heads bobbing in perfect coordination between your thighs. It is inhumanly perfect, so harmonious that it almost agonizing. This is how mortals lose their minds here, you think.

Eventually you are so wound up that you can’t help but cry out.

“Oh noo,” Jisung says, very unrepentant as lays beside you. “I think we were teasing her… That’s so mean of us, isn’t it, baby? Huh?” He pinches your face in his hand, cooing at you while you playfully glare. He giggles and kisses you, your own wet desire smeared across his lips. “You’re so wet, baby,” he says, sliding his hand down your body and over your pussy, easing his fingers through the wetness there. When you whimper, he whimpers back in faux sympathy, pouting and nodding. “I know, poor baby,” he says, curling his fingers inside you.

Felix’s eyes light up, watching. He props himself up on one hand and touches you with the other. You make a sound against Jisung’s mouth, a breathy moan as Felix slides his fingers in too. It’s thick, that many fingers at once and so suddenly. Your thighs jerk and you whine into Jisung’s mouth. You see stars when you close your eyes, their fingers moving at the same time inside you. They share a heartbeat, a rhythm, not faulting in the slightest.

For a moment, you just lay there and dizzily take it, stretched around their fingers, wet and silky hot and so turned on that you feel like you’re floating.

“Jisung,” Felix says in his rough, deep voice.

“I know,” Jisung replies, just as hoarse.

Their fingers leave you and Jisung grabs your throat with that same hand, slick fingers nudging your chin to look at him. Your breath catches and you think Felix’s breath catches too.

“That’s my girl,” Jisung says, reaching down at the same Felix reaches up, a hand on each breast, teasing the pebbled peaks. You squirm and Jisung returns his hand to your throat, smiling at you so innocently, scrunching up his eyes with delight. “Good girl,” he says, squeezing. Felix gasps then moans, sucking kisses wherever his mouth lazily roams. Jisung places those same hot kisses on your neck, each kiss landing one after the other, lighting every nerve. Teeth and tongue lave at your skin, no doubt bruising it with each little love bite.

“That’s it,” Jisung says, and you really start to think your human boyfriend is made of more magic than autumnal flurries. His dark eyes sparkle in the light, his mischievous smirk lighting up his handsome face. He is so giggly and sweet despite the dastardly torture of his hands and mouth.

You find yourself sinking into the sensations, eyes closed, body running on instinct.

“Felix,” Jisung says. His hand leaves your throat, sliding down your body. You realize he is spreading your pussy lips again, teasing as Felix pushes inside you. It is easy now that you have taken so many fingers, but the knowledge of what is happening, of who is fucking you, makes your breath stutter and eyes open.

“Ohh,” is the only sound you can make, watery eyes on where Felix is moving slowly in and out of you. His brow is furrowed again, that look of concentration, then he groans and all but sprawls on top of you, fucking you with messy abandon. Jisung thumps his head heavily onto the cushion, panting heavily, as if he was fucking you.

“Felix, you gotta—” Jisung says, his own face twisted up with a tortured sort of pleasure. Felix does not listen to him, still rocking his hips with a frantic unevenness. It feels good and crazy and wild, your head lolling to the side, a hum in your throat.

Jisung finds the resolve to push himself up, groaning with the effort. You watch him roughly manhandle Felix, yanking his head up to get him to concentrate. Felix’s eyes flash gold then go dark. His mouth is hanging open and his cheeks are flushed. He never stops moving.

“And you said I was impatient,” Jisung murmurs, grabbing Felix’s hips and evening out his rhythm. You suppose it stands to reason that if Jisung is the most pussy-drunk man you have ever known, than Felix would be too. Except Felix actually is magic, and everything about Jisung seems to multiply in Felix. He looks completely overcome. Then Jisung suddenly asks, “Good tears or bad?”

“Good,” Felix rasps.

“So you wanna keep going?”

“Ye-es,” Felix hiccups, then suddenly starts crying, all the messy human-ness mixing with his confusing faerie-ness, coming together in an explosive physical and emotional mania that has him burying his face in your neck and fucking you so deep and hard that your own sniffles start.

“Yes,” you say at the same time as him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Jisung touches your hand, his other still guiding Felix’s hips. Felix moans in your throat then marginally turns his head.

“Jisung,” he says. “I can’t—unless you—”

Jisung very unceremoniously shoves a hand down his pants, then looks up at you and smiles.

“Okay,” Jisung says. He moves and Felix sinks back inside you, moaning deeply, clutching you possessively. You hold him back as fiercely, blinking up at Jisung when kneels near your face. “Come on, baby,” Jisung says, his thumb tugging at your bottom lip.

“Yes,” Felix says, nodding at him and at you.

You open your mouth, nodding at Jisung. His pants get tossed somewhere and he removes his shirt at the same time his dick pushes past your lips. They really do fuck with an extraordinary identicalness, perfectly matched without a word. It is easy to fall into their rhythm, not even straining. You feel like you were born to be here, between them, sharing them, sharing yourself with them.

They come at the same time, Felix with his cheek pressed to yours, Jisung with his head thrown back. They lay down on either side of you, flopping back at the same time. Felix has a completely dazed look on his face, his breath stuttering when you tuck some of his sweaty hair back. He looks at you like he is seeing you for the first time all over again.

All three of you exhale at once. The resulting giggle comes in three-way unison too.

“Wow,” Felix finally says. “It’s much more fun like this.”

“Hell yeah,” Jisung says, holding out his fist for a bump. You swat it down before Felix can return it. Jisung just laughs, snuggling up to you.

Felix also rolls onto his side. He tucks one hand under his head and touches your face with the other. You and Jisung both look at him, his faraway stare, the way a small smile unfurls on his face.

“You’re mine now,” he says. “Forever. Yeah?” It’s posed like a question but evidently it is already fact to him, or he could not say it.

“Forever and ever,” Jisung says easily, stretching out on the royal bedsheets like he has always belonged there.

Felix looks at you for an answer too, still smiling. You are not as easy as Jisung, but you try hard not to overthink.

But you remember so many stories of humans wandering in the faerie world, never seen or heard from again, the tales of their disappearances ranging from beautiful to horrifying. You think it would be impudent to think yourself different or better than them. They thought they were safe too.

The question tumbles past your lips before you can think twice:

“Your true name,” you say. “Would you still give it to me if I asked?”

He clearly does not expect the question. He blinks quickly, then his gaze darts to the side. You look there to see Jisung nodding off, already half-asleep on your shoulder. Felix is not sleeping. You look at him, wondering still about the sometimes contradictory depth of their connection.

“Aren’t you tired too?” you ask.

“A little,” he says.

You realize he didn’t answer your other question and you open your mouth to ask again. He kisses you, cupping your face, making a happy sound when you kiss him back. Jisung makes his own little happy sound, sighing on your shoulder.

“I love you,” Felix says, speaking soft and low against your lips. He strokes the side of your face. “I want you to stay with me forever.”

“You’d really tell me your true name?” you ask.

“I’d do anything for you,” he says. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Felix,” you say, about to say more when he kisses you again. He smiles so big and bright, it crinkles the corner of his eyes.

“You do,” he says. “That’s the truth. You love me like you love him.”

“It’s the same but different,” you say. “Like how you love both me and Jisung.”

He is still smiling. He kisses the corner of your mouth sweetly. “The same but different,” he says. “Yes. I understand.”

He draws you into his arms and kisses the crown of your head, sighing a happy sigh. Jisung curls up behind you, already fast asleep while Felix murmurs sweet love confessions at you until you fall asleep too, nestled tightly and safely in his arms.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #lee felix x reader #han jisung x reader #lee felix smut #han jisung smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #faerie au

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is-nini · 8 months

Text

Sugar daddy! Neuvillette

Warning: NSFW. Minors DNI. Please.

Overstimulation, filthy and frontal words, no protection, pussy spanking, ass spanking, begging, aftercare.

I hope you enjoy! ^∆^

Sugar daddy! Neuvillette who never skips a day without spoiling you rotten. Whatever your eyes laid on, will be right in front of you the next day. He seems to always know what you're thinking. You're craving ice cream? He'll provide you with one of the finest, creamiest ice cream you'll ever taste.

"Oh.. Neuvi.. how did you know i have been craving Ice cream?" You smiled as you took the ice cream cone off from his hand "I notice the way your eyes sparkle whenever we pass by a ice cream truck" Neuvi said with almost a obvious tone "Neuvii~" you giggled and proceed to give him a kiss "Thankyou" you said with a happy tone before licking the ice cream with much happiness. It's good that you didn't realize the way Neuvi's eyes darkened when he saw your tongue licks the ice cream oh so sweetly.

Sugar daddy! Neuvillette who would always keeps you by his side whenever he could to not-so-subtly tell people that you're his. People around you thought that you're his partner but what they don't know is that the both of you are not in a official relationship... Yet.

"oh look! It's Monsiur Neuvillette and his partner" Paimon said as she alongside her partner, Aether approaches you and neuvillette. You smile and wave back "hi paimon, hello traveller. I have heard alot about you two" Neuvillette place his attention on traveller and paimon, greeting them "Nice to meet the two of you" before placing his attention back on you, holding your hips close to him. Before Paimon started talking, Aether immediately cuts her off "Paimon, let the love birds have they're time. Let's go" he said before dragging Paimon. You giggled and wave them goodbye as Paimon's rant started to fade.

Sugar daddy! Neuvillette will not be able to keep his hand off you. He will always holds you weather it's your hips, hand, face, he will always find a way to touch you. He always find a way to kisses you whenever he could, whenever no one is around or looking, his lips would always end up upon yours in a matter of seconds especially if you wore the stuff that he gave you.

"Mmhnp- Neuvi" you whine as his hands roams around your body. Your skin tight mini dress that you wore drives him crazy. "I'm sorry my pearl, my hand has been itching to touch you ever since I laid my eyes on you with this dress" he whispers as his hand slowly slips up your expensive satin dress, slowly playing and teasing the fabric that cling softly around your thighs. "W-What if the guard hea-" you are immidiately cut off by Neuvillette's kiss. "Then you, my pearl have to keep quiet" he said between the kiss before deepening it.

Sugar daddy! Neuvillette who will not be ashamed to use you as he pleases. If he's stressed, the first thing he look for is you. Using you as his stress reliever. He will make sure that you take his cum deep inside you, your legs will be shaking by the end of each session. Fat tears will make it's way down your cheeks.

"H-ah! No!" you squirm as Neuvillette spread your legs open as your body lies on his desk. Your pussy being sensitive after the last session a couple of minutes ago "I am not done yet my pearl.." He said as he slowly pushes his long and veiny cock deep into you again. His clothes messy both because of the intense activity and your juice. Your pussy immidiately clenches around him, as if not wanting to let go. He can feel your walls pulsing around his cock as he went in and out of your pussy. Each thrust getting faster and faster making you scream in ecstacy "Oh! Neuvi! Neuvi! Sl-Slow- Ha- Ah!" your hand made it's way to his arms that is holding your hips in place as the table shakes with his thrust.

Sugar daddy! Neuvillette who doesn't except a bad girl. Whenever you act too spoiled or too.. comfortable being around other people, he will make sure you are being put in your place. the punishment may varies. Sometimes he will not let you come, sometimes it is a spank on the ass, sometimes on the pussy but sometimes it's all of the above. Sure, he won't be angry for long but that doesn't mean that his punishment won't last for a long time.

"Is wearing that skirt worth it?" another spank hit's your ass as Neuvillette looks down at you who is being bend over his desk "N-Ngh! I-iam So-Sorry!" You sob as you feel your ass burns and your dripping pussy long for his cock inside you "Pl-Please Neu-Neuvi.. w-want you.." you said above whisper. Of course Neuvillette's eye soften and he rubs your pussy lips slowly, making you slowly grind down your hips to his finger with a whine. Neuvillette chuckled and he pulls his hand away before a slap landed on your wet pussy. Your body jolts up and a cry echoed through out his work place. your sensitive pussy cannot handle his torture. He trust immidiately 3 finger inside you, Your Sensitive pussy throbbing around his finger. As soon as Neuvillette knows your pussy is close to release, he stop again, making you cry again, sobbing. "Want my cock? Not yet my dear.. your punishment is not done yet.. we still have a long way to go" His dark tone sends chill down your spine as you know in the end of the session, your pussy will be puffy and overstimulated.

Sugar daddy! Neuvillette who would clean you up gently after you're done with your session. He will make sure you are okay and that there is no scar or pain that you feel that's not within your consent.

"I apologize.. perhaps I went too far" his deep voice reaches your ear as you huff and puff, legs trembling and a pussy, filled to the brim with his cum. Neuvillette places his gaze on your stomach, a small bump is noticeable if he squint. Slowly he stroke your stomach, pushing it slowly with curiosity immediately his cum slowly seeps out of your pussy, making you whine and tremble all over again feeling his cum flows out of you. Neuvi chuckled and kisses your lips, this time very lovingly. He gently stroke your hair as he whispered "Let me clean you up.." before taking a wet cloth near the night stand and slowly cleans your pussy. You tremble everytime his cloth touches your pussy "Mh-Ne-Neuvi pl-please.. se-sensitive" you touches his hand barely but he can feel it. He smiles and nodded "Let me prepare a warm bath for you my dear.. I'll be right back" slowly he stands up and just as he was about to walk to the bathroom, your small hand touches his hand "S-stay pl-please Neuvi.." He looks at your begging eye. How could he ever say no to you? And so he climba back inside the bed, pulling you close. You both stayed there, cuddling eachother.

He might be your sugar daddy but he sure does felt like a partner rather than a sugar daddy.. perhaps one day.. who knows?

#genshin x reader #genshin fanfiction #genshin fanfic #genshin smut #neuvillette x y/n #neuvillette x you #neuvilette x reader #neuvillette smut #genshin neuvillette #neuvillette #sugarbaby #genshin x y/n #genshin x you

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totheblood · 1 year

Text

even more modern!ellie headcanons

a/n: just a little something... again AI AUDIOS AT THE END... replies and reblogs are appreciated

masterlist

ellie is a homebody, and usually will have to be dragged out by you or dina

honestly she’s never ‘dragged’ out by you, she usually likes to tag along if she knows you’re going somewhere where there will be a lot of people

it’s not that she doesn’t trust you, it’s that she doesn’t trust the people around you

you don’t really mind anyway, you like how she loops her finger in the belt of your jeans and pulls you closer to her when she notices someone staring at you

if the person doesn’t stop she’s not above pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear while making direct eye contact with the person

you giggle, throwing your head back slightly and turning to look at her in the dim light, “what’s gotten into you, ellie?”

“that dick keeps looking at you,” another kiss pressed to your jaw, “don’t like it.”

but she’d much rather stay at home with you, both of you tucked under her comforter with the air conditioner turned down to 64° and whatever show you’re watching at the time on the tv

she hates to admit it, but she loves grey’s anatomy (she swore to you she’d never like it with a scoff and “that show is shit, babe. it’s for like, middle-aged moms with no life.”)

but now as you both have your eyes glued to the screen, she can’t help but scoff every time george is on the screen

“what?”

“he’s just such a fucking loser, this guy.”

“he’s not the worst.”

“he’s pretty fucking bad… why would he sleep with meredith and then make it about him when she starts crying! it’s obvious she’s vulnerable… i just don’t like him.”

ellie gets pretty passionate when watching tv. she’s always sharing her opinions with you, looking at you for validation or arguing when you disagree with her

she’ll always add something like: “you’re lucky you’re cute” or “if you weren’t my girlfriend i’d tear your argument apart” and then kiss you on your nose and go back to watching tv

ellie is an awful cook… like so bad

one time she tried to make a recipe for your anniversary, thinking it would be easy but ended up failing miserably

she’s the type to write out the grocery list and cross shit off as she picks things up… even when she doesn’t know what it means

she didn’t know what trader joe’s was, so when she got there she’d be picking shit up and looking at it with a weird look on her face, “mango… joe joe’s? what the fuck is that?” she’d mutter before putting the box back on the shelf

but eventually she’s getting sucked in, picking up a box of mini ice cream cones, cookie butter, and the rest of the groceries needed for the meal she planned on making for you

you come over and the place is a mess, there is flour all over the counter and floors, pots and pans piled up in the stove, and ellie is stood over a bowl, mixing with a giant wooden spoon

“ellie?”

“shit.. fuck,” she curses, jumping a little bit before turning and smiling at you, her eyes looking you up and down, “you fucking scared me. you’re early.”

“no, i’m not.”

ellie’s eyes glance down at her watch, cursing as she bolts towards the stove a “no, no, no,” falling from her lips as she opens and sees the chicken inside burnt to a crisp. she’s throwing on her mitt and pulling the pan out, sighing as she watches all her hard work go to waste.

“you were trying to cook for me?”

ellie forgot you were there for a moment, her jumping a little at the sound of your voice and wiping the sweat from her forehead as she gives you her best smile, even though it’s strained.

“babe, i’m sorry, i- i don’t know where i went wrong,” she sighs, watching as you walk closer to her and put your hands on the counter behind her trapping her in.

“don’t be sorry” you kiss the side of her lips and smile against her skin, tasting her sweat, “it’s sweet… no one’s ever cooked for me before.”

she’s blushing and leaning into you, your warmth providing her some comfort from her previous stress

“you look nice,” she whispers below her breath, but you can still feel the puffs of air coming out of her mouth, “you deserve a good meal.”

“i’m not picky,” you whisper back, giggling as ellie’s heart leaps in her chest. she loves you so much it hurts

her hands rest at your hips when she kisses you gently, saying something about missing you that you miss because of how her lips feel against yours

you order takeout that night and eat it as you help her clean up the mess she made

“have you ever been to trader joe’s? that shit was crazy”

ellie is the type of girlfriend to send you two people from a tv show or an edit and be like “babe, this is so us”

or to think it’s so cute when you have matching icons on instagram, tiktok, or twitter

she just wants to show you off all the time

she draws the line at a joint couple account though

she’s always writing things about you, whether it be in her journal, little poems, or songs about you

she’d post a song she wrote you on tiktok with the caption “wrote this song about my lover” and not expect it to blow up

but then she’s receiving a million comments about how sweet it is and how people wish someone would do something like that for them

she doesn’t like the comment “can your gf fight” so she’s responding to all of them like “no, she can’t, but i can and i will! LEAVE MY GF ALONE!!”

but she’d brag about it to you, shoving her phone in your face and saying “look, your girlfriend is fucking famous.”

when you gasp and grab her face congratulating her in between kisses her face grows red and she’s smiling so wide her cheeks hurt

“don’t forget me when you become famous.”

“how could i forget my muse?”

ellie loves listening to music with you and will make you a playlist that she updates with every song she listens to that reminds her of you

she’s incredibly corny in that way

she always wants to listen to the music you suggest to her, wanting to be closer to you in any way she can

even if she doesn’t like it she’s pretending she loves it and playing it constantly, even when you aren’t around

ai audios:

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fan fic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams oneshot #modern!ellie williams #college!ellie williams #ellie williams one shot #mine

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seospicybin · 6 months

Text

TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

PART II

Han x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle masterlist

Synopsis: You and Han become contestants in a reality dating show, Too Hot To Handle. (12,7k words)

Author's note: I had so much fun writing Han's season idk why so I hope you enjoy this one too! x

The party is in full swing.

Everyone is dancing and getting friction off each other, having the time of our lives by forgetting that everyone here is locked in this sexless retreat.

Han has his hand around your waist and you look over your shoulder at him, your eyes meet in an intense gaze. Your eyes drop to his teeth faintly biting his lower lips, getting curious of what it would be like to kiss those lips.

You drop your head against his shoulder and he leans in...

The music abruptly stops and the chime comes in. Everyone knows where to go whenever they hear it and off to the cabana we go.

All the fun and euphoria of the party seem to have evaporated once you are seated on the sofa and waiting for the boss lady to come.

The chime comes in again with her cone body flickering in purple-hued lights.

"I've gathered you all to remind you that this retreat is for finding deeper connections, not just physical ones. This information is not getting through to some guests."

As always, you can sit this one out because you haven't broken any rules yet but Lana sounds so mad and that puts you on edge.

"There has been a breach of the rules."

There's a dark cloud casting over everyone's head and you prepare yourself for what's coming, it's most certainly going to get ugly.

Asher reclines in his seat and glances at Gwen next to her, it's obvious that he did it.

"I don't want to say I lost you guys more money but..." Asher is stalling only to prolong the pain.

"Did you guys kiss or not?" Finn simplifies it for them.

Asher and Gwen exchange a look, then after a minute, Asher finally answers, "Yes."

"I thought we're here for the experience—" Gwen's words get cut off by Finn's loud scoff.

Gwen is only here for a day so it's not a surprise that she still has that mindset, that it's okay to break rules and have fun. She hasn't felt the consequences of her actions like the rest of the group.

"This kiss has cost the group $6,000."

"Mmh... brilliant," Sawyer lowly mutters.

"The prize fund now stands at $149,000," Lana announces the current amount of money in the pot.

"That is not all," Lana is not letting anyone breathe yet.

"What?" Nya gasps.

"Last night, there was another breach of the rules."

Last night, everyone behaved nicely but maybe that's just what it seemed to you. Again, you can't control everyone in here because the only one with that power here is Lana.

Mikaela is looking uncomfortable that she keeps playing with her earrings even though nothing is wrong with them. You dare to ask them, "Rio, Mikaela, did you guys kiss?"

Rio is quick to shake his head to deny it while Mikaela keeps quiet next to him.

"I'd rather speak up," Han lets his suggestion hang in the air for anyone to get the meaning of it.

"I mean..." Mikaela breaks out of her silence.

"It was an accident. We were showering together and I kind of touched," she pauses to avoid continuing her sentence.

Your jaw drops in surprise because that's just a stupid thing to do. They're struggling to take their hands off each other yet they had a shower together, it would be impossible for something to not happen in there.

"We thought it wouldn't be a rule break," Mikaela adds, in what is supposed to be her words of defense.

"It doesn't matter," Finn remarks with an annoyed look on his face.

You doubt that that's the only infraction they did in there and everyone seems to think so. You remind yourself to keep your tone calm to not upset her, "Mikaela, honey, is that it? Is that the only thing?"

Your question sends the tension soaring high but it's either they tell them the truth or face everyone's wrath. You hope they choose the former.

"We uh... we kissed," Mikaela meekly admits.

Indeed, they were aware of what they were doing and the repercussions of their actions.

"Rio and Mikaela, what you did goes against the rules of the retreat," Lana sternly remarks.

You just can't believe that they choose to act selfishly like this but you refrain yourself from talking, afraid that you'd say things you didn't mean.

"These rule breaks have cost the group $10,000."

Even Avery who's been Mikaela's supportive friend is looking just as disappointed as everyone. She has nothing to say to defend her and can only try to calm her down.

"I'm sorry, you guys," Mikaela apologizes with an exasperated sigh.

"The prize fund now stands at $139,000."

YOU: What are they thinking? Really? Lana is not stupid. If she said it's a rule break, it is a rule break.

When you think Lana is going to end this agonizing meeting, Lana continues to speak still not letting everyone catch a breath.

"Rio and Mikaela, you have broken the most rules since arriving at the retreat and have repeatedly broken the trust of your fellow guests."

You lean back on the sofa and reluctantly listen to everything, exhausted from the roller coaster of emotions Lana puts you in.

"You must now prove to them that your connection is more than just physical. You will face the ultimate test of chastity."

"Sorry?" Sawyer asks, afraid that she misheard what Lana just said.

"Rio and Mikaela, you must spend the night alone in the private suite."

Finn sarcastically laughs at that, "We're done. We're done for."

Nya looks at Mikaela and asks, "Are you going to do anything?"

That seems to trigger her that Mikaela starts to ramble, "I feel like getting negative energy, right now. We're being pointed and like... I don't understand."

Well, after what they did, it only makes sense that everyone doubts they'll pass this test.

"Please make your way to the suite," Lana orders.

And Rio couldn't take Mikaela faster to the private suite.

YOU: [shrugs] I think we're finished.

Han can't wait to sleep on it but he senses something as Lana is not letting everyone go even after Rio and Mikaela leave for the private suite.

This is supposed to be a good night for him, he told you about his feelings and it was well-received, then the party was fun.

It was great until he sees Lana's cone-shaped body. He puts his arm around to seek comfort from you and you rest your head on his shoulder right away.

"Forming meaningful relationships with people always starts with trust. My question is how much do you trust Rio and Mikaela?"

That is the hardest yet the easiest question to answer. Hard because Han trusts Rio so much, he's the closest to him amongst everyone else here but it's also easy because of what they did when they're together.

Han trusts Rio but he doesn't trust him when he's with Mikaela.

"Jeez..." Asher hisses.

"All they're doing is losing money," Finn says with a snide smile.

"If you decide to trust them and they pass the test, the $40,000 that has been lost so far will be returned to the prize fund."

Some are gasping and a few others are sighing in pessimism. Sure, $40,000 is a lot but everyone's concern is on whether Rio and Mikaela will pass the test or not.

"But if you decide to trust them and they fail the test, the prize fund will drop by a further $40,000."

"Nah, no way," Asher immediately responds with a head shake.

As much as Han wants to back Rio, he has as little faith as everyone that they'll pass the test. However, it's not just about their friendship, it's about money and the group as a whole.

"They got so much shit tonight, they're not going to do it," Gwen says.

But coming from someone who's only been in the retreat for a day, everyone dismisses her right away.

"They know they'll lose money if they do anything," Finn surprisingly takes Rio's side but Han believes it's because he wants the money back.

"Guys," Avery is taking her turn to speak now, "This is a real test. Watch them actually pass it."

Now that it's coming from Mikaela's close friend, everyone listens to her, and their minds slightly change.

"This is their chance of redemption," Avery concludes.

A moment passes as everyone tries to mull things over, deciding whether to trust that they'll pass the test or not for a chance to get a lot of money back.

In the end, it's being decided by voting.

"If you think that we should trust them, hands up right now!" Finn says.

Hands are rising to the air in favor of trusting Rio and Mikaela to not break any rules in the private suite. Han also raises his hand, going with the majority.

He then turns his head to see that you're not raising your hand along with Sawyer sitting on the other side of him, he respects that.

"Thank you. I have noted your decision. Goodbye," Lana ends the session with a grim closing.

HAN: I trust my boy, Rio so I'll ride with the majority

They're making a big mistake.

Yes, there's a chance to gain some money but they forget that they also risk losing more money for doing it. Anyway, you voted no and if things didn't go as they wanted, you wouldn't be a part of it.

You groan as Han puts his whole body on top of you, propping his hands on each side of your head with his face hovering only inches away from yours.

He flashes you that gummy smile, then leans in to whisper, "I feel like we're getting closer."

You put your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, pulling him close against your body.

"And we're getting a lot closer now," you playfully say back.

He buries his head in your neck and you can feel his warm breath fanning the sensitive skin, making you tingling inside.

You still feel the slight shock from the sudden confession he told you earlier in the bathroom and you feel the need to ask him if he was just saying it because he feels like it or...

"'I like you,' huh? Where did that come from?" You ask him with your hand on the back of his hair, ruffling it between your fingers.

Han pulls away to hover above you, he props his elbow against the mattress to support his head, "I like the fact that you're a bit silly like me," he says.

You scrunch your nose at that, "You're a whole lot of silly," you disagree with him.

"You're fun to be with, you're not taking things seriously, I... I'm enjoying getting to know you," he answers.

Han then leans in and presses his nose to your cheek, "How about you? How do you feel?"

You look away and pretend to think, "Uhm... you're alright, I guess," you add a shrug to tease him.

He drops his head into your neck as he breaks into laughter and tries to muffle it as everyone else is trying to sleep in the room.

"Well, that's what I like about you, you're so chill..." he compliments.

He looks at you as he continues talking with his hand playing with the strand of hair on the side of your head, "I've been pushing my feelings away but now, I gave in," he sincerely tells you.

You place your hand on his arm and feel his warm skin as you intently listen to him speaking his heart out.

"I admitted to how I feel and honestly, don't regret it," he finishes and brushes your hair away from covering your face.

It's heartwarming to hear everything he said and know that underneath that goofy layer of his, there's a part of him that is so pure and earnest, proving to you that he's not this cool guy he disguised himself him when it comes to someone he likes.

"I don't know what you want to do with it..." You try to articulate your thoughts into words but also avoid giving him the wrong idea.

"I think it would be cool to get to know each other and see what happens, see if something comes out of it," you tell him.

You're not trying to play his game plan back to him but you want to play it cool.

"Okay," he agrees with a sweet smile.

"You blew my mind, really," you tell him how surprised you are by his sudden confession.

"Well, I kind of want to blow you elsewhere but..."

You gently slap him on the arm and pull him, holding him close to wish him goodnight.

"Goodnight," he wishes back with a soft kiss on your cheek.

YOU: I do like Han but also, he did tell me that he liked Avery so... I don't want to get hurt. I can only hope that he's telling the truth.

Lana chimes the second the lights are on.

You groan as you force your eyes to open and squint to see the cone blinking in the middle of the room. You pull the duvet to your chest, waiting to hear what Lana has to say early in the morning.

"Good morning, everyone."

"Mmh... morning," You're slurring your words as you yawn at the end of your sentence.

"Are you feeling optimistic?" Lana asks, reminding everyone of the big gamble they did last night.

"I think we'll get the money back," Avery says, standing firm on her ground.

"Given Rio and Mikaela's history, you might be, as humans say, screwed."

Is Lana hinting that they didn't pass the test? You thought by voting no, you would be excluded from feeling guilty about it but you feel it nonetheless.

"I feel broke already," Asher groans as he tries to sit on the bed.

"I think they've got it," Avery says while twirling her hair in her fingers, looking not convinced by her own words.

You don't want to think about it but here we are, talking about it the moment you woke up and now you can't stop thinking about it.

You turn on the bed and put half of your body to overlap Han's, cuddling him as usual before starting the day. You look at his face and see that his eyes are closed, even with his face is slightly swollen and his hair is disheveled, he looks adorable to you.

You poke the tiny mole he has on his cheek, "Morning, goober."

He takes your hand away to kiss your plan then puts it across his chest, "Let's sleep for another five minutes," he mutters with eyes closed.

Feeling playful, you put your mouth close to his ear and whisper, "Okay."

YOU: But honestly, if Rio and Mikaela cost us any more money, I'll be fuming.

When Lana calls you, you drop everything and go.

You're not done with your makeup yet when she calls everyone to the cabana. You drag yourself to get there with Avery linking her arm with yours.

With the two of you as the last ones to get there, you decide to sit at the end of the sofa.

Everyone is looking nervous as they wait for anyone to come in, either Rio and Mikaela or Lana.

After a while, it turns out to be the former. Rio and Mikaela look happy and you know looking happy doesn't mean they did something but it makes you nervous seeing the smiles on their faces.

Lana chimes not long after, saving them from being drilled with questions by everyone.

"Hello, everyone."

"Hi, Lana," you weakly reply.

"Rio and Mikaela, how was your night at the suite?" Lana asks the most spending couple.

"Oh, yeah? What happened?" Finn asks with faint enthusiasm.

Mikaela looks at Rio before answering, "It was romantic."

"How romantic?" Nya asks.

"Bubble bath, champagne, rose petals... it was beautiful," Mikaela answers with a smile on her face.

You look at the ones who voted to trust them and see if anyone shows regrets.

"Rio and Mikaela's stay in the suite was the ultimate test of restraint to further their connection without surrendering to physical desires."

You half-heartedly listen to Lana as you start to get a bad feeling about everything and prepare yourself for the worst outcome.

"However, this was also a test of trust."

From the looks on their faces, Rio and Mikaela seem to not expect that Lana is brewing something behind them.

"Rio and Mikaela, when you left the suite, I asked the group whether they would put their fate on you as a couple."

Mikaela's jaw drops at the information and her face dims as if someone has turned off the lights.

"If they trusted you not to break the rules, I would reimburse the $40,000 you both lost so far."

Rio rubs his hands together and licks his thick lips, having nothing to say but you can't quite tell if it's a good or a bad quiet.

"However, if you broke any rules in the private suite, an additional $40,000 would be deducted from the prize fund."

"That's how much faith we had in both of you," Avery says and intentionally, makes it sound like a warning to them.

You take another look around and can see that most of everyone regrets their decisions already.

"I can reveal that Rio and Mikaela did break the rules," Lana announces.

YOU: Don't say I didn't warn you.

To say that he's disappointed would be an understatement.

Han can't believe that someone he thinks that's like a brother to him would do such stupid things. He knows that he should not do it, they should take this test as a way to earn everyone's trust but they wasted it away.

Not to mention, wasted some more money too.

"What did you do?" Nya asks.

"We maybe uhm... kissed," Mikaela answers.

"Again?" Asher gasps in shock.

"Did you think for a second that maybe it's not a good idea? That you knew you had to resist it?" Avery says, gritting her teeth as she speaks to Mikaela.

To everyone's surprise, Mikaela doesn't look like she's feeling guilty or shows even the slightest of remorse on her pretty face.

"And because you kissed twice, you have been fined an additional $12,000."

Han thinks that's already the worst of it but Lana doesn't stop there.

"That means your night at the suite has cost the group a total of $52,000."

"I'm sorry I failed you all," Rio finally speaks up for the first time today.

"We-we don't know you bet all of that money on us," Mikaela defends but that's so out of touch.

"But we— You were put to the ultimate test," Avery pressed the focus on the matter and that she shouldn't blame everyone when they're the ones who shit the bed.

"I know," Mikaela says, defeated but still not looking sorry for what she did.

"The prize fund now stands at $87,000. Goodbye."

HAN: $52,000 for two kisses? [Shakes head] It's not even funny anymore.

You walk back to the dressing room to finish getting ready for the day even though you don't feel like doing it anymore after losing more than half of the prize money when it's not even halfway of the retreat.

You take a long sip of water from your tumbler then sit on your usual spot on the vanity table.

Nya, Gwen, and Sawyer are there too, probably can't find anywhere else to vent but here. The room is loud with their rant and frustrated groans.

Unfortunately, Mikaela steps into the dressing room and everyone gets quiet as she takes a seat on the chair. She looks at everyone but none of them is looking at her.

"I feel like I need to come here and talk to everyone," she says.

You pick up your eyebrow pencil and carefully fill in your eyebrows with it while looking into the mirror.

"You guys shouldn't put your trust in us," Mikaela says.

Instead of sincerely apologizing, Mikaela flips it back to everyone and hopes that it'll make everyone feel better. Nya scoffs at that while the others keep on ignoring her.

"I feel guilty. I feel so bad right now," Mikaela says in the hope that's enough to assure everyone that she's sorry.

Sawyer puts down her hairbrush and starts talking, "I don't think you're sorry for doing it."

You look to the side and see that Sawyer is speaking up for everybody here.

"I think you just feel bad at how bad we're reacting," Sawyer points out.

And she's right. Mikaela only feels bad because no one is taking her side and not because she feels bad for what she did.

"I mean, is it like what? Seven times? You're obviously not sorry for what you're doing," Nya also can't help herself from adding to it.

It's clear that everyone is not pleased with Mikaela and her behavior, especially without Avery on her side to help her.

YOU: Mikaela, [holds up hand] please!

"I'm genuinely sorry from the bottom of my heart," Rio begins with a heartfelt apology as the boys gather in the bedroom.

Han is not sure an apology would ail this sense of betrayal he feels but at the same time, he doesn't know what Rio can do to make it go away.

"If you were smart, you should have slept away from each other," Finn rants.

Meanwhile, Asher is sitting still on his bed, scratching at his head with a blank expression on his face.

"I put everything on you, man..." Peyton says with a low sigh.

Han still doesn't know what to say but he guesses that Rio can see the disappointment on his face as he presses his lips together into a thin line.

"I'm genuinely sorry," Rio apologizes again.

He leans forward with his hands clasped in front of him, "Over time, you'll see that," he finishes.

If only his apology brought back the money they'd lost, Han wouldn't be this mad and so would anyone, but well...

HAN: Obviously, they had no idea we risked that much money on them and I do feel sorry but they should have known it's called the ultimate test for a reason.

"Looking like a handsome sausage!"

Han breaks into laughter as you watch him getting ready in the bathroom, then continues combing his dark hair while looking into the mirror.

"We got called to the cabana," you inform, leaning your body against the doorframe of the bathroom.

"Bleugh!" Han reacts with a groan and takes a can of hairspray for his hair.

"I know," you agree with him.

Han is indeed looking good in his red shirt and dark slacks but oftentimes, he wonders why he is impeccably dressed up just to get anxious over a talking cone.

"My belly is turning," you whisper to him.

Unluckily, Han can't give you the comfort you need when he feels the same way. He puts a hand on yours and intertwines it, resting it on your thigh.

The cone chimes and everyone gets tensed at the sound of it.

"From the date I've gathered during your stay in retreat so far," Lana skips the usual greeting and that only means she's angry.

"I must inform you that some of you have not demonstrated the capacity to make deeper, emotional connections."

Is it what Han thinks it is?

"Oh, my days..." Nya weakly gasps.

He holds your hand tighter, afraid that his thought manifested into reality.

"There are two guests that have not committed to the retreat or show signs of progress."

It's becoming real now that his heart is pounding out of his chest. At this point, he can't tell who these two people are because Lana is the only one who can objectively see everyone's progress in this retreat.

"And I must bring their time here to an end."

He can't believe what he heard but as you press your head into his shoulder, he knows he heard it right. Lana is sending two people home, right now.

HAN: I am freaking out. I want to get to know her and see where that might go so... I don't want to go home.

The possibility that this might be his last night in the retreat is there. Han puts his arm around you, pulling you close and putting his head close to you, catching that natural scent of your body as he breathes you in.

"The first person who has to leave the retreat tonight is..."

Everybody is nervous and the tension is rising, everyone is uncomfortable in their seats. Han is stressed, thinking that it would be him.

"Sawyer."

Nya, the one sitting next to her, throws her hands around her while Fabian who sits on the other side, gently squeezes her shoulder.

"Sawyer, you have failed to commit to the process or make any emotional connections. I have calculated that you have the lowest possibility of forming meaningful relationships," Lana lays out the reasons why she's being sent out of the retreat.

Sawyer sadly smiles and looks at everyone, "It's okay, you guys," she says but her eyes are glossy with tears.

Nya rests her head on her shoulder and holds her hand, snuggling up to her as if she's the one who needs the comfort not the other way around.

"The second person leaving the retreat tonight is..."

Han feels like someone is squeezing his heart dry and his throat is closing up, making it hard for him to breathe.

"Peyton."

Han is unconsciously gripping your shoulder and you end up holding him, providing him the comfort he seeks by placing rubs on his back.

"Peyton, you have continued to display behavior from your player past and you have shown no remorse or signs of change."

Peyton puts on a smile and coyly says, "I don't say much but all of you are like family to me."

Avery sniffs with her eyes wet with tears while Nya looks like she knows it's coming for him.

"Sawyer and Peyton, please leave the retreat."

It feels like he's letting them down even though Han is not the one with the decision to cut them off the show. He feels sorry for them as he hugs them and bids them farewell.

"See you again, everyone!" Sawyer says for the last time before leaving the villa.

Everyone is just as gutted as he is, sitting on the sofa waiting for Lana to finish speaking.

"I hope the rest of you take this as a lesson to take this process more seriously."

When bedtime comes, it feels not right to see one bed empty.

He feels bad for them but he's also relieved that it's not him and you, he's not ready to go home yet. Moreover, he is determined to make progress in this retreat.

He dives into your arms and lets you hold him, keeping him in your warm embrace.

As if you know he needs your comfort, you gently rub the back of his neck, "I'm still here," you whisper with a soft laugh.

He smiles hearing that and places a kiss on your cheek, "I know."

HAN: We've just started getting to know each other so I'm glad that we're staying.

It's another day in the retreat and another day of spending hours to get ready for the day.

You understand that you should look presentable because you're in a TV show but doing it for almost two weeks now, you're getting tired of it now.

"You look cute in that bikini, babe," Avery compliments you as you put on a black pair of bikini.

You take a step back to see the whole look in the mirror, "Mmh, yeah, I look good," you agree with her.

One thing you learn in this retreat other than making emotional connections is that you like hanging out with girls.

Instead of rivalry, the girls are very supportive of each other, you can see that from compliments being thrown around the dressing room every five minutes.

The only girl that isn't vibing with you is Lana.

After a very intense day yesterday, you feel like turning the other way instead of going to the cabana. It's like you can't go on with your day without seeing her cone-shaped body.

"Come, baby cake," Han holds his hand out at you.

You take his hand only to let him pull you hard until you topple onto his lap, making you laugh as he puts his hands around you.

"It's kind of suspicious to me that there are presents for us," Asher says.

You wouldn't notice the small boxes on the table if Asher didn't say anything, not sure if it's a present but it looks like it from how the lid is wrapped with a pretty bow.

"Hello, everyone," Lana greets as soon as she comes online.

You get off Han's lap to sit on the sofa since it's not a good time to get cuddly.

"I have a gift for each of you."

Lana confirms your guess but you get nervous instead of excited for it. It's never just a gift, there must be something else in there.

"What it is, Lana?" Finn asks.

"The gifts will serve as a reward for those couples who show me that they're taking the right steps toward deeper connections. They will be given the chance to take those connections further."

Everyone is intently listening, probably wondering if there's a catch behind this sudden gift-giving.

"Can we open it?" Nya asks with eagerness.

With the cue given by the staff, everyone takes one box from the table and discovers a smartwatch inside.

"For free?" Han innocently asks you.

You're cackling as you put the watch around his wrist and let him do the same with yours.

"When I observe two people forming a genuine connection, they will be given a green light like this..."

Lana demonstrates it by turning the watches green along with a melodic chime of hers and everyone is cheering in reaction.

"... where the rules do not apply for a little amount of time."

Han leans in to whisper into your ear to relay Lana's message, "Green light means we can fuck."

You burst into laughter and gently push his head away, stopping him from saying another silly thing. That doesn't stop him from resting his chin on your shoulder.

"I would like to remind you that those who do not receive a green light are not displaying enough progress."

You see that everyone is excited about these watches, well, the idea of getting a pass to rule break is nice but knowing Lana, earning a green light wouldn't be easy.

"Thank you, Lana!" You thank her nonetheless.

YOU: With this [shows watches] I think I'm ready to deepen my connection with Han.

Motivated by the promise of a green light, you pull Han aside, walking to the beach together to get some privacy to talk with him.

You both sit on rocks facing the beach with the surface of the water reflecting the afternoon sun at you. You've been meaning to talk to him about your feelings and you don't like talking about your feelings so it's going to be hard to open up.

However, you know he gave you a lot and you've only given him so little.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about us," you begin.

"Okay," Han says with a nod.

"I know I've been holding myself back a little," you admit to him with a thin smile.

"A little?"

You smile at that and corrected it, "I keep my guard up."

"I think the Avery situation plays on the back of your head, huh?" He correctly guesses.

Well, that's one of the reasons so you nod, "Yeah, it does."

Han gazes into your eyes even though he has to squint under the bright sun to do that, "I barely spoke two words with Avery, I didn’t vibe with her. It was purely physical attraction," he says.

He pulls his legs and puts his hands on his knees, "But spending time with you, getting to know you, it all feels natural, you know?"

You nod in agreement because it does feel natural like you've known him for years instead of days.

"I feel like now... if anyone else came in, I'd still stick with you no matter what," he earnestly says to you.

It feels like discovering a new side of him and this talk feels intimate because it feels like you're talking to his heart from how open and sincere he is with his words.

"It's not just that," you confess.

It's been so long that you haven't been this open to anyone that you forgot how and it scares you so much. You keep retreating even though you keep reminding yourself to lower your guard down even just a little.

"The last time I opened up to someone, I got badly hurt and it makes me scared of commitment," your heart aches as the truth escapes your mouth.

"That's my problem," you say with a nervous laugh.

Somehow, letting those hurt out sets you free from the burdening past and you feel so much lighter and better. As you gaze into his eyes, you feel like you can tell him anything now.

"Yesterday made a massive difference."

"What do you mean?" He asks with an eyebrow raised.

"I didn't want to lose you," you sincerely tell him.

Han leans forward, trying to get as close to you until his knees bump with yours. He takes your hands and holds them while keep looking into your eyes.

"I knew that you were the only one I connected with since day one," you confess and you hope it's enough to tell him how you really feel.

He smiles at you, the silly one that makes you can't help but smile back to him.

"I want to kiss you now," he says to you.

"We can't. Unless this turns green," you remind him while showing him the watch on your wrist.

He then looks at the vast sea behind you and comes up with an absurd idea, "Do you think Lana's rules still applies on international water?"

This is why you like him, he's not only tugging at your heartstrings but he also shakes it, teases it, and twirls it around his little finger.

YOU: To be honest, I wouldn't want to do this with anyone else but him [smiles]

sThe boys are off to do a workshop in the front yard and the girls are hanging out by the beach, talking about, well... boys.

"It's so hard to keep my hands off of him," Gwen shares.

Recently, a few people have been doing bed swaps. Since the night Asher kissed her, Gwen now shares the bed with him while Avery is now sharing the bed with Nya.

"How do you feel about him?" You ask out of curiosity.

Gwen brushes her hair to the side, "I like that he's so fun to be with and not afraid to make a fool out of himself," she answers.

"Do you see any possibility that it could be more than that?" You ask.

The question seems to take her aback that she takes a minute to think, "Yeah, I think so but let's see," she vaguely answers.

"It'd be amazing to have more people in here," Avery says.

Nya turns her head around to look at Avery, "And more of my type," she adds.

"Someone with confidence, masculinity..." Avery lists all of the things she wants from a man.

"And big hands!" Nya continues her sentence which sends everyone into laughter.

"We just need more meat in here!" Nya desperately wishes her heart out and hopes that it's loud enough for Lana to hear.

It's like Lana hears their prayers, someone steps into the villa but unfortunately, it's not one she wishes for.

Avery lets out a shriek and covers her mouth too late to muffle it, "Oh, my God!"

"Is that a new girl?" Mikaela asks, looking suddenly intimidated but doing a great job masking it with excitement.

The new girl waves her hands, looking at everyone with a bright smile on her face, "Hello, hi, babes!"

You hear a British accent and that explains the distinct charms she has. When she introduces herself, she holds strong eye contact with you, "I'm Portia."

You exchange a quick hug and kiss both cheeks, "You're gorgeous," you tell her in admiration.

"No, you're gorgeous," she flips the compliment back at you with a sweet smile that showcases her dimples.

The girls look fine sharing the attention with the new girl but you can see the sheer disappointment drawn on Nya and Avery's faces.

But guess what? Another guest walks into the retreat and finally, it's one they're looking for.

It's a whole lot of meat in one man, Nya will have her desired feast. He's tall, has stunning brown skin, and a charming smile, you spot a few tattoos on his body too.

"I'm Ed," he introduces himself around.

He looks pleased being the only man in the villa at the moment, "You're all so beautiful," he says with a grin.

Avery is smitten already, she can't take her eyes off of Ed. You're afraid that she has to share him with Nya and you notice that his eyes are on you.

"So, what is your type, Ed?" You ask, being the one to start the conversation so the available girls would know which one he's more into.

"I don't really have a type, just someone I vibe with," he coyly answers.

Avery laughs even though there's nothing funny with what he said. On the other hand, Mikaela seems to be worried that the new girl is going to steal Rio away from her when clearly, she hasn't even met him yet.

"What about you? Do you have a type?" Mikaela asks her.

"Tall, gorgeous, nice smile..." Portia answers with a giggle.

You almost choked on air hearing it, "That's Rio," you blurt out.

"Well, Rio and I, we've been together since day one so..." Mikaela indirectly tells the new girl to not touch his man. She may as well piss on Rio to mark her territory.

You exclude yourself from their chat and decide to join the other group of girls talking to the new guy.

"That's some sick tattoos you got there," Ed says as he looks at the tattoos on your arm.

"Thank you. You got some uh... impressive ones," you say, but it's hard looking at them when his toned abs keep distracting you.

He lightly touches your inner arm to show you which one he likes, "This. I like this."

You shudder at the contact like you've been zapped by electricity and at the same time, you see the boys are returning from the workshop.

YOU: New guests mean more rule breaks [laughs] I just hope that they catch up on our progress fast [laughs]

What is happening? Han comes back from the workshop to find that there are two new guests in the villa.

One is a beautiful brunette and the other one is a tattoed guy with tousled hair that makes him look like he's just rolled out of the bed looking attractive like that.

If Lana's plan is trying to intimidate him, no, it's not working. However, if the plan is to try to make him jealous then yes, she's succeeded at it.

The new guy touching your arm in an excuse to see your tattoo and as a player himself, he knows that it's just one of his tricks.

Everyone is going around introducing each other and he can see that Finn and Fabian have their eyes on the new girl, surprisingly, Rio too. He looks over to Mikaela and she has the right to drill a hole on her head with her laser eyes.

"Portia, what do you think about the boys? Do you like what you see?" Asher asks, representing the curious singles in the villa.

"Yeah," she shortly answers.

"I'm excited to have fun and get to know everyone," she says with her eyes daringly glancing in Rio's direction.

"Are you planning on breaking rules or what?" Finn asks straight to the point, still has his priorities right as the sex police.

Portia giggles at that and then lightly shakes her head, "I can't promise anything."

This new girl looks cute, with freckles dusted her cheeks and a dimpled smile but he senses that she's going to stir things up in this retreat.

With the two new guests, the dressing room is a lot more crowded than usual. Han dresses up in a black shirt and jeans, styling his hair with Asher putting his long hair into a bun next to him.

"What do you think?" Asher asks him for his opinion.

He looks at him, up and down to know if the whole look complements each other, "Great, man," he says.

Seeing the new guy able to land his hand on you merely a few minutes after he stepped into the villa, Han feels like he needs reassurance that you're still doing it with him, getting to know each other and making deeper connections.

It's so easy to play cool and confident but you've seen everything in him, he knows that you'll see right through him.

No one ever told him that liking someone makes him more insecure about himself.

While everyone else is hanging around the new guests at the firepit, he pulls you aside to talk on the small sofa where you both squeeze yourselves into.

Han slouches with his head resting against the sofa, looking up at you while you're propping a hand under your head and one leg draping between his legs.

You look so beautiful in that tight black dress, you smell so good and those lips tantalize him more than usual tonight.

With his arm around you, he aimlessly runs his fingers on the small of your back, "What do you think of the new guy?"

You peer down at his face and ask back, "Ed?"

He's only been here for hours and you already addressed him with his name. Again, no one ever told him that liking someone makes him think irrationally.

"Do you think he's good-looking?"

You think for a second then nod, "Yeah."

"Handsome?"

"Mmh," you nod again.

"And I'm not handsome?" He asks with a grin but genuinely curious what you think of him physically.

You crack a laugh and think again for a while, "Yeah."

"'Yeah I'm not handsome' or 'Yeah I'm handsome'?"

You're laughing instead of answering and his hand stops moving on your back, waiting for you to answer.

"Is that why you don't want to kiss me?" He asks, turning serious all of a sudden, then looks away to not let you see how embarrassed he is asking you this.

You stop propping your head with your hand and put your hand on his chest, "First of all, you're not handsome," you tell him.

"I'm super handsome, I know," he entertains himself.

"You're cute," you say with a gentle pinch on his chin, "And I like cute guys.

That makes him look back at you with a smile that blooms on his face, "How cute?"

You lean in close to tease him, leaving only a few inches of space between your lips and his, "Very cute."

Han is already dizzy with your warm, sweet breath brushing his cheek as you speak. His eyes drop to your lips as they tantalize him more and more.

"Kiss me then, I'm cute," he teases back by putting his hand on the nape of your neck, not letting you back away.

"How about Lana? The money, mmh?" You softly rub the tip of your nose against his cheek.

"I don't think they'd mind us breaking a rule," Han reckons since none of you have broken any rules yet it's more likely that everyone will let it pass.

You cup his jaw and softly swipe his lips with your thumb, "You think so?"

From the way you're looking at his lips, he knows that this is also what you want.

"Yeah..." he breathlessly says, his throat getting dry the more he craves your lips.

"Mmh..." you answer with a sultry hum.

Han can't take it anymore. He slowly pulls your head close until your lips collide in an explosive kiss, a kiss that obliterates his senses and stirs chaos inside his head.

His tongue pries open your mouth and you eventually cave in, letting him invade you, tasting more of you. He's so deep in it, drowning himself in it that breathing doesn't feel necessary anymore to him.

Oh, he loves your low moans that slip out against his lips and the hand that lingers on his neck. He also feels your leg slowly rubbing his inner thigh, inviting the other part of him to come and join.

He almost pouts when you pull away from the kiss, and you console him with a quick peck on the lips, "That's enough for tonight," you say.

He doesn't want to stop but he looks at the bright side of things, there's always another night.

"We should wipe that lipstick mark..." you sigh as you clean his lips with your thumb.

His hand flies to your lips, helping you to fix your smudged lipstick so as to not leave any evidence for everyone to see. However, touching your lips only makes him want to kiss you again.

As if you're reading his mind, you immediately retract yourself from him to get a space, you take the chance to fix your hair and then your dress.

He helps by pulling down the hem of your dress to cover your exposed thighs. He leans to your side and whispers, "That was a good kiss."

That doesn't enough for him, he then throws himself at you, putting his arms around you as he pinned you down on the sofa, "Fuck, that was so good," he sighs again into the crook of your neck.

Wrapping your arms around him, you bring your mouth close to his ear and murmur, "Don't get used to it."

HAN: It feels like I kissed a girl for the first time all over again [smiles]

Lana seems to let him go for the night and Han can't tell if he should feel lucky or what.

Eventually, Lana will tell everyone and everyone will know that they kissed, he is very well aware of that.

But God! That kiss was so good and it was worth every penny of that $6,000 he spent on it. He didn't even think of the money because he was kissing you and you're such a good kisser.

It wouldn't be like every other night, it would be hard for him to sleep next to you tonight and not try to kiss you. He licks his lips to get any taste of you that lingers in his and his head is spinning, a little lightheaded thinking of the kiss.

Most of everyone is already on their beds and he's been waiting for you long enough he starts to get antsy. Truthfully, he just can't wait to see you so he walks to the dressing room, he finds you sitting and applying something to your face.

"Baby," he calls you from the doorway.

"Yeah?" You answer without looking away from the mirror.

"When are you coming to bed?" he asks, half whining.

"In a few minutes," you reply, carefully dabbing the skin around your eyes with your finger.

"Come to bed..." he grumbles as he walks up to you only to realize that someone else is there.

The new girl, Portia, is brushing her hair on the other side of the vanity table. Han immediately gets embarrassed for acting like a toddler to you, not knowing there's someone else there.

"You guys are very cute," She shortly comments with a smile.

Han can only wait until Portia leaves the room to start talking with you, even though he's not sure if it's a good idea to be alone with you.

He watches as you dab your lips with lip balm and smack them together, inviting him to touch and feel the softness of your lips.

"Put some on me too," he says.

You hand him the lip balm to put it on himself but he refuses, shaking his head at you. You reluctantly put it on for him, and slowly glides the lip balm on his lips.

"Okay, now we're ready to kiss," he says after smacking his lips together.

You gently push him away and swivel your chair to the other way, "Told you not to get used to it," you say, getting up from the chair.

He puts his arms around you, hugging you from the back while you're putting your things back into your make-up bag. You smell so good that he can't help but plant his nose in your neck, getting himself drunk in your scent.

You start walking in the direction of the door, dragging him to you with your hands on his, "Let's go to bed."

"One more kiss," he whispers with a soft kiss on the sensitive skin behind your ear.

You look at him through the reflection in the mirror with his head buried in your neck, "We can't rule break again," you tell him.

He starts whining like a baby, humming against your skin with his arms tightening around you.

"You're just a baby, mmh?" You gently nudge his chin with your shoulder.

"It's better to get scolded for two kisses than one," he offers his idea to you.

You softly laugh at him and you seem to be more worried about anyone finding the two of you here alone from the way you keep looking at the doorway.

"I know you want it too," he teases you, then playfully bites at your ear shell.

You take his hands away from you but instead of walking away, you push him until he's pinned against the Asher's close on the other side of the dressing room to prevent anyone from walking in on you unnoticed.

"You won't stop until we do it, mmh?" You murmur, putting your body against him and dropping your hands on his shoulders.

He looks into your eyes as they sparkle and he can see that you want it too. But you get ahead of him, crashing your lips against him and knocking the air out of him.

Somehow this kiss is better than the first one and he gets even hungrier for you, opening his mouth to take more of you.

He twirls your tongue with yours and mischievously, you gently tug it between your teeth as he tries to pull away, giggling when you finally let go.

The temperature in the room seems to have raised a few degrees, making him feel hot all over yet he pulls you incredibly closer, leaving not even an inch between your bodies. He has one hand on the arch of your back and the other on the nape of your neck so he can angle your head as he pleases

With your body pressed against him, he can feel it starts to mold to his body and he wants to feel every curve of your body with his hand.

You immediately drag his hand back as he attempts to touch your rear, clicking your tongue at him as you pull away from the kiss.

"That's enough rule breaks!"

You leave him with his mouth hanging open and his lips wet from the kisses, it's cruel that you leave him wanting more.

"We can't enter the bedroom together so..."

You take steps back from him and walk in the direction of the door, "Wait for a few minutes then you can come to the bedroom," you instruct him.

He manages to catch your hand before you walk away, "One more kiss."

"No!" You refuse but with a sly smirk on your face, hinting that you're not completely opposed to the idea.

"I know you like it," he says, standing in the middle of the room, defeated.

You stop by the doorway and look over your shoulder, "I meant it, wait for a few minutes!" You remind him.

You know what? They'll eventually know so he doesn't why you bother to avoid everyone's suspicion.

HAN: I started paying attention to the little things she does. How she purrs in her sleep like a kitten or scrunches her nose before smiling [shyly laughs] everything about her is adorable except the kisses... her kisses are out of this world!

Is this how everyone feels when they know they're about to get exposed by Lana?

Surely, you can't calm down like usual since you blatantly broke the rules twice last night. You didn't even think about the money at that time and the guilt only hit you right now, fast and hard.

Well, it's not like you commit a murder or something, it's just a kiss, well... two kisses and they cost $12,000. You gulp air thinking of the money you spent on those two kisses but in your defense, it was worth every cent of it.

You glance at Han and he flashes a knowing smile at you, there's no way out of this but through.

When the chime comes, your heart drops to your stomach and you inhale air to calm yourself.

"Hello, everyone," Lana starts the session as usual with a lukewarm greeting.

"Hey, Lana," you reply with a weak smile.

Han takes your hand so you can stop playing with the frayed hem of his sleeveless top and takes your other hand, pinning your hands by the wrists on his lap to make you stop fiddling altogether.

"I must now inform you that yesterday, further rulebreaks occurred."

You turn your head at him and he's looking calm, he even winks his eyes at you which you respond with a scoff.

Avery points her finger at Mikaela and Rio, the biggest spender in the villa.

"Not us," Mikaela immediately denies.

You look at Han, giving him the signals to start talking before the tension rises. He gets the cue right away, letting go of your hands to hold it instead.

"It's us," he coyly says.

Rio says something in Portuguese while Asher claps his hands, both impressed at him. You see that the response is not as horrifying as you thought it would be.

"Did you kiss or did anything else?" Finn asks, wanting to know how much you did so he can calculate the damage.

"We kissed. Twice," Han answers.

You get so embarrassed at how proud he is at admitting the rule breaks that you start laughing next to him. You suppress another wave of laughter to apologize.

"We're sorry, guys, everyone," you sincerely tell them.

YOU: Everyone is taking it well and I think it's because they know we have a genuine connection here.

"These rule breaks have cost the group $12,000," Lana informs.

However, you know it's not going to stay this calm when the bills turn up.

"The prize fund now stands at $75,000."

Now everyone's faces dim at the amount of money left in the prize fun and it's not much. You are sorry for breaking the rules but it's not right to put the whole blame on you.

Avery crosses her hands together and warns everyone, "No more rule breaks!"

It's so easy to say for her to say now. It was easy for you to refrain from anything sexual but now that you have a partner and you try to build a connection with him, it's so hard because physical affection helps you to achieve this connection you're having with him now.

"Is that all, Lana?" Finn asks.

"As you know, I encourage genuine romantic connections so I have planned dates for our latest guests," Lana comes with an announcement instead.

That gets the new guests, Portia and Ed excited hearing it. Only Mikaela looks like she's plotting a murder plan in her head.

"Ed, please select someone from the group to take on a date," Lana orders.

Feeling like he needs to show ownership over you, Han puts his arm around you as Ed is looking at the girls to take on a date.

Ed's eyes land at you for a second before it shift to Nya, "Are you up for anything later, Nya?"

Nya smiles so brightly and pretends to not care, "I don't know. I'll have to go check my schedule," she jokingly says.

You look at Avery and she looks a bit disappointed with it. She is pretty and all but maybe Nya fits his vibe more.

"Portia, please select someone from the group to take on a date."

Han leans into your ear and whispers, "I'd be worried if I were you."

You snort at that and you're not saying that there's zero possibility for it, it's just that you know Portia has her eyes on Rio. Not sure if she's gutsy enough to take someone's man on a date.

"Uhm... I would like to try and get to know someone," Portia says and she happens to sit next to Rio.

"I'd like to take..." she stalls with her eyes secretly glancing at Rio.

"Rio on a date," she finally says.

There's no one here that is not surprised by her daring move. Portia may look adorable with her freckles and blonde hair tied into pigtails but damn, she is ballsy.

"Sorry, Mikaela," she says to her but you don't hear any guilt in that apology.

Mikaela only nods and forces herself to smile, "Here we go," she sighs.

This only reminds you that you're indeed in a TV show and you believe the viewers would enjoy this drama so much because you're secretly enjoying it too.

"Thank you very much for the date," Rio says which only takes the drama further and sets Mikaela on fire.

Gosh, you feel incredibly good for not being a part of that drama. You put your hand across Han's chest and are just grateful that what you have with him is genuine.

YOU: If Rio kisses Portia on their date [shakes head] all hell will break loose on this retreat.

Mikaela is pacing around in the dressing room while the girls are getting ready for the night, except the ones that are on their dates.

"You have every right to feel like this. It's so shitty, I know," Avery says, validating her emotion while doing her make-up.

You see that Mikaela is on the verge of crying as she holds the back of her chair and grips at it, "it's been hard for me to build a genuine connection with Rio," she says.

Avery pauses doing her make-up to give her a gentle squeeze on her arm, "I know, I know," she comforts her.

Putting the drama aside, you feel bad for her because as wild as you can be you refrain from stealing someone's man. It's girls code and you're not a fan of anyone that has no respect for that.

"Mikaela, sit down, honey," you tell her because she's looking like she's about to faint.

She obeys you, taking a seat next to Avery and rubbing her temple in distress, "If he goes in and his head turns, just know that he's making poor decisions," she stutters her words trying to hold in her tears.

You're bad at comforting people so the least you can do is listen to her and make sure she feels heard.

"He's entertaining this, he-he's..." Mikaela can't keep it anymore so she bursts into tears.

In a second, Avery comes to her aid, holding her as she's crying. You reach for her shoulder to place tender rubs on it to comfort her.

"It's just that... I haven't been vulnerable to one person in so long," she says with a quivering voice.

You can relate to that more than ever and you'd feel the same way if it happened to you.

YOU: That's just what happens when you get too close to someone, they'll gain the power to control your emotions.

Consider him lucky that Mikaela-Rio-Portia drama diverted everyone's attention away from his $12,000 worth of rule break.

But here's a new problem: Han craves it more than before.

He blames you for having such addictive kisses that he can't wait to have more of it. However, he craves for something more than just kisses now.

Yes, he's aware of how dangerous it sounds but how can he can stop thinking about sexual things when you're always looking so damn sexy.

Just like tonight, you look so gorgeous in that black silk dress with thin straps and it showcases your beautiful neck that he wants to tear it off of you.

You drain your wine before sitting on his lap, "Hi, crawdaddy," you greet him with a giggle.

He sees you licking the drop of wine trying to escape the corner of your mouth and he wishes he could do it for you.

"You look so hot," he praises you with his hands on each side of your waist.

"Mmh?" You squint at him.

"What do the kids say now?" He thinks for a moment before continuing, "Fire!"

You laugh at his choice of compliments and put your hands on his muscular chest.

"You're fire!" He says again with a sly grin.

The night is lovely with the full moon hanging in the sky and the winds blowing so softly, brushing his skin with salty, warm air.

But all he can feel is the touch of your fingertips on his neck as you look into his eyes, "What are you thinking?"

Should he tell you what is inside his head right now? Not sure if it's a good idea though.

Han tucks the strands of hair escaping your ponytail behind your ear and keeps his hand there, holding one side of your head with such love.

"We have so much sexual chemistry going on, don't you think?"

"Mm-mmh," you nod in agreement.

"And I think we can have sex," he says.

Before you get it wrong, he quickly adds, "Only if you want to have sex."

You nod again and scratch the tip of your nose with your knuckle.

He puts your hand away and leans in close, "What do you think?"

You seem to hesitate to answer him, "Hmm..."

He leans in closer and places a soft kiss on your neck, you keep a safe distance with your hand firmly resting against his chest.

"I think we should stick to the rules," you tell him.

Then you put your hand on his neck and look at him as you continue talking, "I just don't want us to have sex and suddenly things change, I don't want things to change between us."

He pulls you close and locks his arms around you, "Things are not going to change between us," he assures you.

"I know," you say, "I'm just scared that it would happen."

He completely understands what you're saying that you're afraid that sex would change things between you and him.

"I know what you mean," he tells you.

To console himself, Han places another soft kiss on your cheek and looks at you as you endearingly brush his hair to the back.

"Don't get me wrong, I'd like to have sex with you," you bluntly say with a sly smirk.

"But..." You don't even get to finish your words as you pull him into a hug but that proves you're just as sexually frustrated as he is.

You pull away to look down at his crotch, patting his thigh as you say, "Down, boy!"

Han laughs, embarrassed that you know he's having a boner when you're only sitting on his lap. He wants you so much but at the same time, he wants to prove that it's just more than physical attraction.

With or without sex, he's a happy man to be with you.

HAN: I've been horny as it is... [sucks air through teeth] Hopefully I can hold out.

Another drama unfolds during bedtime.

You're joining Avery in chatting on Asher's bed, the three of you are chatting when Mikaela suddenly comes. She looks unhappy, duh, you'll be too when your man is on a date with another girl.

"Portia has disrespected me, she said some things on the date so I will be having some conversations with her," she says.

The three of you automatically look at each other and notice that Mikaela is having a meltdown. There's a concerning thing going on in the room so you walk back to your bed and so is Avery.

Mikaela is impatiently waiting for Portia to come into the bedroom while Rio is comfortably snuggling close to her on the bed.

You don't wait to share it with Han once he gets onto the bed, telling him everything he missed while he's away in the dressing room.

"Things can get ugly and I'm worried," you tell him.

Mikaela is an intelligent person, but when it comes to her emotions, she can be intense and almost volatile. You're right to never try to mess with her.

Han offers his arm as your pillow so he can cuddle you as it gets intense in the bedroom, you can see that from how everyone is looking tense on their beds.

The wind sends the door shut and Han gets startled, thinking that it's Portia as his head snaps in the direction of the door.

"What a fucking stress!" He sighs as he snuggles to you while you're lowly chuckling at his reaction.

The drama has to end in an unsatisfying way because Portia doesn't get on the bed yet even after the lights are out.

YOU: Mikaela has this fiery attitude so I... [laughs] I was really afraid that there'd be a fight but thank God for Portia's long bedtime routine.

There's already tension between Mikaela and Portia this morning and you can only hope that the workshop will help to sort things out.

There's an instructor already waiting in the front yard and a small bonfire in the middle, you wonder why they set a fire during the day.

"Hello, I'm Amy, a relationship expert," she introduces herself.

Everyone is sitting in a circle around the small bonfire and intently listening to Amy talking.

"Today's workshop is about letting go of the past so that we can be present. Let's talk about any issues in trust that we have with men."

She looks around as she asks, "Who wants to share first?"

No one seems to want to talk about their feelings, including you. You feel uncomfortable letting yourself bare and be vulnerable, especially in front of everyone.

After a few minutes passed in silence, Gwen decides to be the first to share her emotional baggage, a shocking one about how her friend cheated with her boyfriend.

Everyone starts to share their story and when it comes to your turn, you're shriveling a little but you remind yourself that you're in a safe space.

"My thing is when I fall in love, I tend to throw it all out there and end up getting hurt for it so... I kind of become numb because I don't want to get hurt," you honestly share.

"And do you find someone here you want to open to?" Amy asks.

"Yeah," you shyly answer.

You suddenly feel like a schoolgirl falling in love for the first time all over again but isn't it what love does to people? Making you a bit loopy.

"I found someone here that I like and I'm slowly opening up to him, and I'll continue to share more of me with him," you make a promise to yourself.

"That's good. That's great!" Amy praises you.

When you look back, you feel good knowing that you're slowly changing as a person, you came in as someone who's against relationships and now, you're sharing an emotional journey with someone, together.

The workshop started as a heartfelt talk between the girls until Mikaela's turn. You get the feeling that she'll use this as a chance to confront Portia.

"I met Rio here and he's just a really special guy, I've never met anyone like him."

Mikaela is looking at Amy then as she continues talking, she looks at Portia, "Last night, I had to sit through and watch Portia take Rio on a date, and obviously, I feel uncomfortable with it," she tells her right to her face.

You and the rest are watching Mikaela calmly handle her emotions and talk it out in a mature way with Portia.

"I don't want to feel like it has to be a competition or territorial. I want us girls to be on good terms but I think you break a boundary here," Mikaela concludes, throwing the ball at her court.

Portia gets quiet and she takes it all in really well, she smiles at her before speaking, "I respect you for speaking out and I'm sorry," she sincerely says.

A smile finally rises on Mikaela's face, "Thank you so much, Portia, that means a lot," she responds.

Like a parent, you feel proud watching them solving their issues in such a grown-up way and you hope it continues to stay good like this.

Amy then hands out a piece of paper and pens to everyone and comes with a new instruction, "You're going to write the things that have happened with your life that you're ready to let go of and forgive."

It feels good to be able to share things with everyone but it takes everything in you to write things down without getting emotional.

On your paper, you write, 'Good enough, perfect, comparison.'

Amy wants you to share the reason why you wrote those things down. You take a deep breath before explaining it.

"I never feel good about myself but the girls are..." You pause to look at everyone as they smile at you.

"They're all beautiful and kind, they help me learn my differences and things I love about me."

They're all cooing at you and you know how cringe it is but you don't feel embarrassed about it at all. It feels nice to let them know that.

After everyone shares what they wrote on their papers, Amy instructs everyone to take that paper and ball it up before throwing it into the bonfire.

"Just feel like you're putting it all behind you, right?" Amy says.

She gathers everyone into a circle before ending the workshop with a group hug to let go of all the bad and take the good with you.

These girls may seem superficial but you can feel that you and them are in this together and it's a really nice feeling. Despite that you're all different, you feel this sense of belonging toward each other, a sisterhood.

YOU: I still have some way to go but I know that I'm learning and Lana is starting to knock down my wall [smiles]

Going back to the villa, you go straight to the dressing room to dress up for a party Lana suspiciously throwing tonight.

You put your bad thoughts aside and focus on dressing up for the party as it has a Black and White theme.

Han comes up behind you and playfully bites you on the shoulder.

"Ouch!" You yelp in pain.

You continue fixing your make-up in front of the sink since everyone else is crowding the dressing room, "Why did you do that?"

He puts an arm around your waist, "Because you're edible," he answers with a foolish grin.

You glance back at him and sense that he's chipper than usual. You get it that it's getting hard to stay away from each other with sexual attraction getting more unbearable every day.

Gosh! There's not a day when you don't think of ripping his clothes off and having hot, filthy sex with him.

"That's not how I want you to eat me," you joke back.

He plants a long kiss on your neck, "How do you want me to eat you then?"

You chuckle and look at him, "Want you to eat me well, that is."

He puts his other arm around you and draws you closer, "I can do that."

"Yeah?"

He breathes you in and looks at you through the reflection in the mirror, "I can show you," he says.

Before it gets dangerous, you put an end to this conversation and playfully elbow his stomach.

"Ouch!" He yelps in pain this time.

You pull him into a hug for an apology and kiss his cheek, "Let's go, hubba hubba!"

A party is necessary so everyone can blow some steam off for being locked up in this sexless retreat but it also means that Lana plans to throw everyone off.

That doesn't stop you from enjoying the night and the company you're with. You're dancing to the music with your hands draping around Han's shoulders as he slowly sways your body together to the fast-paced music.

After the workshop, you feel much lighter and better, more importantly, you feel confident about how you feel. You look at Han and you feel like you can share anything with him, you can see a relationship with him.

So you hold on to him, tighter and closer but Lana, being the ultimate cockblock she is, chimes in and stops the party.

YOU: I have no idea what's about to come next but I know it's not going to be good.

It's like the fun has evaporated and been replaced by anxiety once everyone is seated in the cabana waiting for Lana to come online.

"I am very disappointed to report there were several breaches of the rules."

When Lana skips the formality and goes straight to the rule breaks, it means that she's pissed off. You feel good for not breaking the rules with Han after the last time so you don't have anything to worry about. You can freely guess who did it this time.

"We kissed on the date," Ed is kind enough to own up to it fast.

"I think it was okay, yeah," Nya adds to it.

Everyone seems to let them get away with it, maybe because it's one kiss and Ed and Nya are a potential couple. You don't know but you sense that they wouldn't like what they hear next.

"Ed and Nya, your rule break has cost the group $6,000."

Avery is rubbing her temple while Finn seems to have had enough of people selfishly spending the prize money.

"There was another breach of the rules," Lana informs.

Everyone is tense once again, looking around to catch any guilty faces and you bet the biggest spender has anything to do with it.

Han looks over his shoulder at you, covering his eyes he says, "I may have broken the rules in the shower," he meekly says.

Surprised, you spit out, "You did what?"

Han can't be doing another rule break with anyone else, you know that for sure and that leaves with one possibility. You cover your eyes this time as he admits it to everyone.

"I did a little... uh self-gratification," he blurts out at once, aware of how embarrassing it is.

Everyone bursts into laughter at his confession as he hides his head in your neck. You can't do much about it since he didn't tell you about it

"Han, your act of self-gratification has cost the group $4,000."

YOU: I'm actually quite offended. Did he not want my help?

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