#Rebecca Noelle

[bceventshub]

the good word of noebecca be upon ye.... i think noelle and rebecca should have kissed each other not asta. noelle and rebecca are both opposites in personality- as well as sibling order. however, the old saying IS opposites attract. noelle would be more compassionate with rebecca, while rebecca would become more assertive with noelle. plus, noelle gets NEW siblings who think shes fucking cool. and rebecca gets funding for her restraunt because rich girlfriend. amen

Thank you for submitting propaganda for: Noebecca!

To everyone: please consider supporting this wonderful ship during Femslash Month in May!

[the-black-bulls]

Yami: Finral, you have to go out there, face that mob of angry girls, and apologize for what you did.

Finral: I would, but I'm afraid if I open the door, they'll take all of you!

Rebecca: No we won't. We just want Finral!

Finral: Well, maybe not you, but they'll kill Noelle — she was with me all day!

Noelle: I'm part of the mob!

[potledom]

[queenbutterfly276]

Silva Devils Au

and finally our amazing girl, Noelle!!!!

she’s the most bisexual woman ive ever seen in an anime

im like not even kidding she’s just so into all these pretty ladies and asta

it’s awesome

now she’s a lot more outspoken in this world so she and asta would have a closer relationship a lot sooner

esp with her clocking that he had a devil in his grimoire

she would fall for his unique use of magic and overall kindness

same with kahono, rebecca, and nero

girlie has a type and it’s “they are slightly different than most people you know but boom they’re really nice and adaptable”

she loves them so much

as well as the bulls but that’s a given

she has the least change out of all the siblings in the sense of she’s basically how she is in manga canon right now but times a thousand

because there’s not much to say about her and ships i will offer this scenario for when asta first meets all the royals in that big room

instead of cowering away, noelle immediately launches herself at whichever sibling is closest to her and attempts to fight them (likely nozel)

there’s some panic from asta but he is stopped but is stopped by fuegoleon who explains that this is normal and they are just bonding

nothing is broken or destroyed it’s just two siblings testing each other’s strength and calling out things to fix

nebra is watching and shouting when they almost hit something and solid is commenting on noelle’s water magic

overall a pretty good time and then boom

elf attack like canon

i might be writing about that later on but who knows

[o4o41]

Add new character(s) for feminist stories and discussions.

• Sydney Watson (a youtuber tone policing women.

Who's projecting. Whose self-criticism is targeted on visibly targeted women. She is the one who's insecure.)

vs-ing Rachel Zeigler

• this girl vs-ing

her existence as a woman and her body and society's perception of herself. And seething new ideology indoctrination that harms women and children.

• Sabrina (miraculous ladybug) or Trix (Winx) siding with evil forces of the patriarchy and some still having a disadgantage of privilege next to a man. VS Sheron Stone (who gained spotlight because of a man at hand (her husband) and not turning a manequenne of her movie still existing in a harmful expectation on a woman and falesely making men a priority.

•violence against women vs simpmitting [simp+submit] to a husband

I forgot one more

• Sabrina carpenter performing suggestive poses in the benefit of violence against women and toxic entitled male hood. Vs Artemissia (Renaissance artist) (I had a version that Barbara the Barbie recruits another Barbie who paints art of women taking back the power to themselves. And programmer, president, etc Barbies getting back at real world greedy, selfish, self-dick-obsessed and/or powerful men)

Vs Amane Misa (Death Note. Those women performed for predatory-perversion industry. Despite the rabit fan-service for young boys and pornification of female bodies, much of major female character knew of objectification and were expressing deep displeasure and disgust, you know.

• And with all of that attack against women and their personhood

She-ra (2018) for girls trained that women should not appear muscly and dropped from sports. Not "vs", but "for" this time. And men telling that muscly people are just males.

(I've heard about white savior trope. So not white savior. Maybe she is POC this time. Or not. Or add some intersetional issues/tensions or topics with other characters interacting in real life)

p.s. Hercules should have been female. Like Luisa from Encanto.

Let's all gather together.

For the honor of female's personhood

Let's all drop the garbage (unsanitary and degradative behavior of misogny. A product of patriarchy. Controling and brainwashing women. Grooming them into second-class citisenship and simpmitting[submission+simp], forced with punishments 😔)

[luckyroll3]

Thank You, Daddy Chapter 6

Masterlist and Summary

Previous Chapter

Warnings: This work of fiction is intended for 18+ audiences only. Includes explicit sexual content, graphic language, sex work, power dynamics, daddy kink, possessive behavior, etc. Author chooses to not extensively tag in order to preserve some elements of storytelling.

Word Count: 11,612

Additional warnings: Talk about death, domestic violence and physical abuse.

A/N: Meant to post this yesterday, but currently at a conference. Enjoy!

The following weeks dissolve into a blur of intensity and confusion. You find yourself foregoing your time away from Christopher, your boundaries blurring like watercolors running together. What was once a structured arrangement (four days a week, your own space, no emotional entanglements) becomes something murkier, more consuming.

The following month, you accompany Christopher, Hyunjin, and Hyunjin’s “friend”, as he referred to her as, Rebecca, to a finance conference in Paris via a private jet. Christopher has been keen to keep you close, almost neglectfully doting in the way he assumes you'll follow effortlessly into his world. 

The four of you board the jet. With his hand possessively on the small of your back, he gives you a knowing look before taking a phone call and finding a seat towards the back to talk in private. You hesitate, wanting to give him his space, until Hyunjin waves you over to where he and Rebecca are already comfortably settled. You take a seat with the two of them at the small table near the front.

Hyunjin looks more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him, almost like he belongs here. The flight attendant pours each of you a glass of champagne, and Rebecca gives an exaggerated, thrilled squeal that makes you almost choke on your drink.

“My first time on a PJ! Ooh, thank you for inviting me Jinnie!” She leans over, planting a kiss on his cheek that's as loud as it is theatrical. He tolerates it with a smirk, his eyes meeting yours over the rim of his glass. There’s mischief there, a small conspiratorial spark that you have come to adore.

Rebecca turns to you eagerly. “Is it your first time too, Noelle?” Her question is curious, innocent in the way that only the truly sheltered can be. Her eyes are wide, and you can practically see them sparkle as she waits for your answer.

“No it isn’t,” you reply smoothly, as if it’s the most casual thing in the world. You take a sip of champagne, hiding the humor in your eyes. “But the first time is always exciting.” The memory of your actual first time flashes in your mind. On the job at 19 with a forty-something-year-old john taking a “business” trip to South Beach. He had fucked you in the bathroom, inaugurating you into the mile high club. You don’t share that part. Instead, you toast to Rebecca’s inaugural flight with a lift of your glass, enjoying her youthful exuberance and the way it makes you realize how far you’ve come.

As Rebecca excuses herself to use the bathroom, you turn to Hyunjin with a curious expression and ask, "Is she...?"

"A pro? No, not at all," Hyunjin replies, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Although with the things she can do with her tongue, she should be." His grin is infectious, and you can't help but smile back.

"Where'd you find her? At the playground?" you joke, and Hyunjin bursts into a hearty laugh that fills the space.

"No," he manages to say between chuckles. "The intern pool."

"Ah, so she's in college," you deduce, a hint of surprise in your voice.

"She's a senior," Hyunjin confirms, nodding. "Not that much younger than you."

"I may only be twenty-five," you muse, reflecting on your own life experiences, "but I've been a forty-year-old for most of my life. So that makes me older than you." Hyunjin throws his head back, his laughter ringing out like a melody.

Rebecca returns, sliding gracefully back into the seat beside Hyunjin. Her presence seems to light up the room. "What's so funny?" she inquires, a playful curiosity in her eyes.

Hyunjin slips his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "Nothing, doll," he assures her with a wink. "Let's get you another drink."

The flight to Paris is smooth, luxurious, and entirely surreal. Christopher joins you after his call, pulling you into his lap with the kind of easy confidence that has Rebecca gasping and giggling again. You play along, letting him kiss you in front of the others, your arms draped around his neck in a show of affection that feels both genuine and practiced. You catch Hyunjin watching the two of you, his expression thoughtful.

The arrival in Paris is a whirlwind of black cars, designer luggage, and the flash of paparazzi at the edge of the airport. Christopher keeps you anchored to his side, his hand on your hip as if to ward off any unwanted attention. You find yourself reassured by it, even as it reminds you of the things Julia said. He texts and calls through the entire ride to the hotel, making arrangements with the precision of a military operation. When you finally arrive, it’s to a suite so expansive it could house an entire family, or the kind of party you’re sure Hyunjin will arrange by the end of the night.

Between the luxury hotel suite and exclusive parties, you start to see more of Christopher than you thought you would on this trip. There’s the way his gaze softens when he thinks you're not looking and the quiet moments of introspection when he shares parts of himself he'd never expose to anyone else.

Late one night, you stand on the balcony in your lingerie, picked out by him of course, and watch the Eiffel Tour start to sparkle. You’re caught off guard when you feel a blanket being placed around your shoulders.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” Christopher says as he rubs your shoulders beneath the fabric. “You were shivering.” He kisses your neck.

You pull the blanket tighter around your chest. “I didn’t notice.” You turn your gaze back to the light show as Christopher hugs you from behind.

“Are you having fun?” he asks softly against your ear.

“I am. I had a great time accompanying Rebecca on her shopping spree. Hyunjin actually gave her his credit card. He’s a brave man.” The memory of Rebecca purchasing everything her eyes landed on makes you laugh.

Christopher chuckles, his grip around you tightening playfully. “I’ll be sure to have oxygen on hand for when he sees the bill.” He kisses you beneath your ear. “What did you get?”

“A book.”

“Just a book? That’s it.”

“Not just any book. A first edition of The Story of O.”

His lips curve into a knowing grin. “Interesting.”

“Why is that ‘interesting’?” You twist to face him, eyes narrowing suspiciously. He’s still smirking, his dimples prominent.

“Themes of submission, objectification, and the role of identity,” he replies with a teasing air. “Are you drawing parallels between our current arrangement and the story?”

“You’re the one drawing parallels,” you shoot back, raising an eyebrow at him. “I saw the opportunity to get a rare edition, in the original language, of a book I couldn’t get enough of in my teens.”

“Pretend all you want, Baby Girl,” he chuckles, utterly unfazed by your deflection. He pulls you closer, mouth brushing against your cheek as his voice drops low, seductive. “But you know how that story ends. She starts to crave it,” he whispers, every word a deliberate tease against your skin, each syllable chipping away at the front you've been trying to maintain.

“Whatever, Chris,” you shoot back, defiantly using his nickname. It has the desired effect, earning another rumbling laugh from him. After a short silence, you ask softly, “What was your favorite book as a kid?”

He stills, his expression shifting from playful to something unexpectedly serious. You think he might brush off your question, but instead he looks out at the city, a thoughtful crease forming between his brows. “The Little Prince.” His voice is softer now, like he’s remembering something from a lifetime ago.

“A prince and his fox,” you say with a gentle nudge. “I’d have pegged you for more of a Gatsby guy.” You look back at him.

“I loved that one too,” Christopher admits, his eyes meeting yours with an openness that catches you off guard. “But The Little Prince was my favorite before everything else got complicated.”

You study him, trying to reconcile this new side of Christopher with the man you thought you knew. Before you can stop yourself, you ask, “When did it get complicated?”

He hesitates, then lets out a breath that sounds almost like a surrender. “When my dad lost his job and his drinking got worse.” There’s an uncharacteristic vulnerability in his voice, and it makes your chest tighten in a way that's both thrilling and terrifying. You reach up and back to cup his cheek before you kiss it gently. He sighs softly at the touch.

You turn back to face the skyline. “Any others?” you ask quietly, shifting the conversation back to the safety of books.

“Grimms' Fairy Tales,” he says after a moment. “My grandfather gave me an antique edition when I was six.”

You turn to face him, curiosity piqued. “Fairy tales. Really?”

“Really,” he said with a smile.

“An antique edition… so that means more of the original, disturbing, bloody ass versions.”

“I was obsessed with all those dark little stories.” He sounds almost amused. “Red Riding Hood, Rapunzel, Cinderella, Hansel & Gretel,” he says, naming some of the more common stories. “But also The Juniper Tree, The Robber Bridegroom, Fitcher’s Bird,” he adds, these ones some of the more gruesome tales.

You try to imagine him as a child, buried in fantastical worlds where the endings aren’t always happy or pretty, and it’s surprisingly easy. “What did you like about them?”

Christopher hesitates, then shrugs lightly, as if embarrassed by the admission. “The heroes and villains were always clearly defined. It made things... simple.”

Simple. The word hangs between you like a challenge, reminding you of everything not simple about this thing between you. You push forward anyway, wanting to know more.

“And now?” You press gently.

He looks at you with an intensity that’s softened only by the glint of humor in his eyes. “Now I think the best stories are the ones with the endings you don’t see coming.” His hand moves up your back slowly, possessively, making you shiver despite the warmth of the blanket.

You lean into him again, resting your head against his chest, letting yourself enjoy the closeness, enjoying even more that he’s let you in just a little bit more than before. “Have any other favorites I should know about?”

“Maybe I’ll show them to you sometime,” he murmurs against your hair.

You look up at him, surprised by how much you’ve started to want that. “I’d like that,” you whisper, your words almost lost in the space between you. His smile is languid, savoring the moment, the dimples deepening as his hand slides up to your neck, the touch possessive and gentle all at once. He leans down, capturing your lips in a slow, heady kiss that leaves no room for doubt about how much he wants you to be a part of his story. You melt into him, losing yourself in the heat of his mouth and the way his hands pull you closer, your body flush against his in a way that makes you forget everything but the two of you here in this moment. The kiss stretches out, indulgent and consuming, until you feel it might undo you entirely.

“Oh my god!” Rebecca’s voice shatters the moment as she bursts onto the balcony in her signature whirlwind fashion, pulling Hyunjin behind her.

Rebecca doesn't notice her intrusion at all, not the slightest inkling of the moment she's broken through, and instead lets out a delighted squeal. Even Christopher’s annoyed scowl can't faze her.

“This view! I’m obsessed," she declares, dragging Hyunjin along with her and clutching his arm with a joyous ferocity. Her voice is breathless, spilling over with pure, unfiltered enthusiasm as she pirouettes in a wide-eyed circle. It's contagious, like the energy of a kid who's just discovered the magic of a theme park. “I never want to leave! Isn’t this incredible?” She flops onto one of the chairs while Hyunjin follows with a knowing smile.

Hyunjin's gaze falls on you and Christopher. He offers a whispered, “Sorry,” at you both as he walks towards Rebecca. You just chuckle and pull an annoyed Christopher towards the lounger closest to them. He sits reluctantly, and you settle yourself in between his legs and lean back against his chest.

“Rebecca, baby, you know it’s okay to take a breath,” Hyunjin teases, his voice dripping with amused affection as he sits next to her.

“Sorry. I’m just so excited.” She beams like a ray of sunshine and stares out at the skyline, the Eiffel Tower still shimmering like it’s performing just for her. “This is amazing. It’s so romantic, don’t you think, Noelle?”

You laugh, the sound bubbling up as you tug Christopher’s arms more tightly around you. “Yup. Very romantic,” you say, not missing the way Hyunjin rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He shares an indulgent, knowing glance with Christopher as if to say, How did we get dragged into such theatrics?

Rebecca, ignoring your teasing tone, lets out another high-pitched squeal of pure delight, her energy cranked up to maximum volume. “Isn’t it?” she gushes again, holding both hands to her cheeks like she can’t contain her own excitement.

You shoot Hyunjin a teasing glance. “So what did you two get up to this evening?” you ask, throwing the question back to her and Hyunjin.

Rebecca launches into an animated recounting of their night, every word an exclamation point. “Oh my god, Noelle, we went to this little café on the Seine! It was soooo cute! And then we went bar-hopping all over Saint-Germain!”

You look at Hyunjin with mock disbelief at the energy he must have expended, and he just shrugs, feigning innocence as his eyes sparkle with humor. “Rebecca was very determined," he admits, glancing at her with an expression of both admiration and amusement.

“Determined is one way to put it,” Christopher teases, the corners of his mouth twitching into an unwitting smile.

Rebecca sticks her tongue out at him, unfazed and in full whirlwind mode. “It was great, okay? Not everyone wants to sit around and brood all night.” The statement causes Hyunjin to laugh loudly and Christopher to glare.

You barely have a moment to react before she blasts forward, her enthusiasm as relentless as ever.

“Oh, you know what we have to do tomorrow night? Go dancing!” Rebecca squeals as she claps her hands together. “I’ve heard that Paris late night clubs are amazing.” She pauses just long enough to catch a breath, her eyes wide and pleading.

“I don’t dance,” Chris states simultaneously with Hyunjin’s, “Chris doesn’t dance.”

Rebecca groans dramatically, collapsing back against the seat. “Oh my gawd! Why are old men so boring?” she asks you. “I mean, I practically had to drag Jinnie to the bars tonight,” she says with exasperation.

“We’re not old,” Christopher states, defending himself. “We’re only 32.”

“Old enough!” she shoots back, undeterred. She leans over and pulls Hyunjin’s arm, her persistence unwavering. “Come on, baby. Tell him it’ll be fun. Tell him we have to go.”

Hyunjin looks at Rebecca, now pouting adorably, then at Christopher, and sighs with a resigned smile. “She’ll never let us hear the end of it if we don’t,” he warns, sounding both amused and defeated.

“Damn straight,” Rebecca says, her voice triumphant and filled with anticipation. The determination in her eyes leaves no room for doubt that she’ll get her way.

Christopher raises an eyebrow, his mouth twitching into a reluctant grin. “I suppose we can stop by for a drink,” he concedes. The glint in his eye suggests he knows exactly what he’s getting into but is powerless to resist.

Rebecca squeals, sounding almost victorious. She leans over and plants a kiss on Hyunjin’s cheek, her delight radiating. “You’re the best!” she announces gleefully.

“I know.” Hyunjin gives her an indulgent look. "And I’ll remember that when we’re dead on our feet the next day,” he teases, already anticipating the whirlwind.

She grips his arm tighter, her joy uncontainable. “You’ll love it, I promise!” she beams, certain she’s already won them over.

The following night, The four of you find yourself in the VIP section of one of the hottest clubs in Paris. There’s a pulse to the place, a heartbeat of pure electricity that reverberates through every inch of the underground room. The bass booms in your chest, syncing with the strobe lights that flash above a sea of bodies, each one moving and grinding, lost in the music. Laughter and shouts weave into the heavy, pounding rhythm, creating an intoxicating symphony of sound and energy. The club is alive, and it’s impossible not to get swept up in the high of it all.

Your group is tucked away in a plush corner away from the chaos but still close enough to feel it. Rebecca is practically vibrating with excitement, her face lit up like it’s Christmas morning. She snuggles into Hyunjin’s side and raises a shot glass. “To Paris!” she yells, tilting her head back and downing it in one go. The rest of you join her and Rebecca quickly refills the shot glasses.

Christopher watches you, an amused look on his face. “You might have created a monster,” he says referring to Rebecca, his voice barely audible over the music as you slide onto his lap, a cocktail in hand. You give him a taunting grin and lean back against his chest, stealing a sip of his drink as you do.

“Full credit to Jinnie,” you say with a light laugh before turning your attention to the dance floor, trying to pretend the energy isn’t infectious, trying to play it cool. But Rebecca is up on her feet, grabbing your hand and pulling you to the music before you can protest. You melt into the chaos with her, your bodies moving together in a sensual rhythm, the heat and the crowd like a living, breathing thing around you, trapping you in.

You lose yourself in the moment, spinning and swaying, feeling the burn of Christopher’s gaze even over the pulsing music. Hyunjin comes up behind you, spinning you and Rebecca around with playful ease, and Rebecca lets out an excited holler that gets swallowed up in the noise.

You glance back at Christopher, catching the raw hunger in his eyes as he watches the three of you move. You shoot him a wicked look, brazen and challenging, pulling Hyunjin closer and grinding your body against him as Rebecca dances on him from behind. It’s a taunt, a promise, a test of how long he can bear to just watch. You turn dramatically, facing where Christopher sits and lock eyes with him as you push back on Hyunjin, his crotch bumping against your ass as one of his hands moves up your body and settles around your throat.

Hyunjin leans in close to whisper in your ear. “Well, you certainly know how to get his attention. This will bring him running…” 

Hoping he’s right, you point your finger in Christopher’s direction, then curl it in a come hither motion, a silent dare for him to join.

He rises, your provocative dance with his best friend pushing him over the edge. He doesn’t even look like he’s trying to resist as he pushes through the crowd, charging forward with a determined stride. He is at your side in an instant, slipping his arms around you, pulling you away from Hyunjin and into him, his body hot and unyielding against yours. It’s exactly what you knew he'd do, and you laugh, triumphant and breathless, exulting in your victory. His body feels scorching and solid against yours, and you let yourself get lost as you sink into it, giving in to the wild rhythm of the music and his willing capture.

“Took you long enough, daddy,” you whisper before spinning around. You grind your ass against his crotch, unrestrained, the thumping bass in sync with the raw want heating up between you. His restraint slips away as the length of his body presses against your back, hot and unyielding. Your teasing is clearly working; you feel him getting hard with each wine of your hips, every undulating movement inciting more. His grip on you tightens, and it's clear he's close to losing all control. He spins you around to face him again with a sudden, consuming urgency, and you gasp as you find yourself face to face with the full force of his intensity.

His hands settle on your ass, pulling you flush against him. You’re practically burning up, the tension coiling between you tighter and tighter. You lean in, your lips close to his ear, your breath hot and teasing as you whisper. “So, you do dance,” you taunt, savoring the way it makes him shudder. You lift your arms over your head, a gesture of surrender and enticement all at once. His hands slide up your sides, then your arms, until his fingers intertwine with yours high in the air.

“You look too fucking delicious not to,” he growls into your ear, his voice thick with the kind of desire that makes your limbs weak and your mind go blank with need. He crashes his mouth onto yours, kissing you deep enough to steal your breath. You’re lost, drowning in the heat of him and the music and the searing electricity shooting through you both. He brings your arms down, wrapping them tight around the back of his waist as his kiss grows more desperate, more demanding. You pull back just enough to catch a breath and catch his eye, the hunger there matching your own, a mirror of want reflected back at you.

Your bodies keep moving, your hips rolling together in a rhythm as wild and reckless as the pounding beat around you. His eyes stay locked on yours, drinking you in, as if the sight of you is enough to send him spiraling. It makes your heart race to see him like this, completely, utterly consumed by you. You squeeze his waist with your hands, feeling powerful and victorious, and he just grins at how you're having such a blast, how you’re almost as giddy as Rebecca. You lean back, letting him take in the sight of you, the sight of what he does to you. You play it up, throwing your head back, your hair spilling across your shoulders, and he groans like he can barely handle himself.

With a sudden, fierce urgency, he pulls you back into his orbit, unable to stand any distance between you, his lips claiming yours once more. You answer his need with your own, kissing him hard, your fingers threading into his hair and tugging just enough to drive him insane. His hands are everywhere, relentless. You’re both giddy with it now, like you’ve stumbled into some ecstatic, untamed place where only the two of you exist. You feel drunk on it, dizzy with it, and somewhere in the haze, you breathe out a challenge: “Can you keep up?”

“I guess we’re about to find out,” he replies, his voice rough and full of heat.

You tear yourself away from him, making a path through the crowd, your hand tight around his as you drag him behind you.

You end up in a cramped bathroom stall, his back pressed against the wall and you on your knees fumbling with his belt buckle.

He’s breathing heavy, almost panting, and the look on his face as you free his cock is pure, unguarded want. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you; wild, like he can’t believe you’re real. It lights a fire in your belly.

You take him in your mouth, slow and teasing, your tongue swirling around the head before sliding down, inch by tortuous inch. You engulf him, hot and wet and eager, and he lets out a strangled sound, his hands flying to your hair. It’s frantic from the start, your mouth working him with no hesitation, no restraint, like you’re starving for it. His hips jerk forward as he struggles to keep still, but to no avail. He gives up quickly, thrusting against you, pushing deeper into your throat, losing himself to the slick heat of your tongue and lips. His eyes roll back as you swallow around him, greedily taking everything he has to give.

“Fuck,” he bites out, low and guttural, his fingers tugging hard at your hair. “You’re gonna fucking destroy me.”

You pick up the pace, sucking harder, hollowing your cheeks and taking him deeper until he hits the back of your throat.

You hum around him in response, sending vibrations up his length that have him cursing more under his breath. Your pace is relentless; you want to see him break apart, lose all control the way you know only you can make him do. He groans loud enough that anyone nearby must hear nothing but his pleasure echoing off the walls.

You pull off with a slick pop, just long enough to catch your breath and grin up at him as you pump him with your palm. “This what you had in mind when I dragged you in here?”

He meets your eyes with raw intensity, pupils blown wide in wild arousal. “Hell yes,” he gasps out before you take him back between your lips again.

He feels impossibly hard in your mouth, throbbing with need as you suck him deeper than before. He’s not going to last much longer; the way his hips jerk and muscles clench tells that story loud and clear. It spurs you on, makes you greedy for it—to make him lose it completely.

“Fuck… baby… I’m gonna…” His words dissolve into ragged sounds of bliss as he comes undone for you, hot and desperate down your throat. You swallow every bit of it like a promise kept, savoring the taste of how completely you've unraveled him. You pull away with a satisfied smirk, wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb.

When he finally drags you back up to standing, he's still breathing hard, chest heaving as he watches you like you’re some kind of miracle, but already grinning like he can’t believe how good that was. He pins you against the wall this time, kissing you with fierce hunger that leaves no doubt about what he’s planning next.

“You think we’re done?” he says against your lips, still winded but wickedly determined.

You laugh into his mouth and nudge your hips forward where he’s already getting hard again against you. “I think we’ve only just started.”

He spins you around and hikes up your dress all in one swift move that makes you gasp with thrill and anticipation. The fabric pools at your waist as he bends you over slightly, your hands pushing against the metal divider for support, leaving no question about who’s in charge now, or maybe who’s willing to fight for it.

The music pulses through the walls in time with the rush of blood pounding through your veins as he roughly pulls your panties to the side and slides two fingers inside of you without warning or mercy. You moan from sheer sensation, the stretch of them filling you and wetness spilling down across his knuckles; you push back against his hand like nothing else matters except more.

“Look how ready,” he murmurs approvingly near your ear before kissing and nipping along your skin while his fingers work their magic. Suddenly he pulls them away from the dampness.

And then his cock is there, buried deep where those fingers were, with one sure thrust that has both of you groaning. You’re trembling now, breathless from his touch, and wanting more. As he thrusts forcefully, the sensation is blinding, sending jolts of electricity through you that blot out everything else. You don't even care if anyone can hear.

He fucks you like you're the only thing he needs, driving into you with brutal, punishing strokes that make you wild. You're soaked, heat spreading through you, around you, spilling down your thighs and across your skin. You can barely keep track of the slick, frenzied sounds coming from your mouth, breathless and desperate. It's relentless and raw, and you push back to meet his thrusts, riding the edge of ecstasy. The cramped bathroom stall vanishes, the music fades; it's just the two of you chasing something that feels reckless and infinite.

His hands grip tight on your hips, the force of him a promise you'll be feeling this for days. He bends over you, hot breath in your ear, urging you on. The sensation is overwhelming and you can't keep quiet. You're trembling, falling apart, barely able to hold yourself up. You're sure everyone out there knows exactly what you're doing to each other, but it only makes you hungrier for more.

He doesn't let up, can't let up, pounding into you with rough determination that scrambles every thought in your head. You're gone to it, lost to it, needing everything he has and more. Your legs almost give out, but Christopher's body pins you to the wall, holding you in place as he moves. The way he's taking you, as if you'll disappear if he lets up for even a second, has you spinning out of control, frantic and breathless and fucked so thoroughly that you don't think you'll ever come down from it.

"Chris!" His name comes out in a high-pitched cry as heat blooms everywhere inside you and you're lost to it entirely, clutching onto him behind you to keep from buckling under the intensity.

He holds you close through every shuddering wave of release until you're spent and gasping against him.

"You good?" There's amusement in his voice but also tenderness, a softer side that's rare enough to feel precious when it shows itself.

You lean your head back against his shoulder. "Mmm." Your laughter is shaky as it bubbles up past the afterglow haze clouding all rational thought. "Think so."

He kisses your neck, then your cheek. You turn your head to the side to capture his lips.

“That was…” he says in between kisses.

“Yeah,” you finish for him.

You both stand there, Christopher’s arms holding you tight, staring at each other in silence. A few minutes pass by until the sound of someone entering the restroom snaps the two of you out of your trance.

“We should go,” he whispers softly in your ear.

“We should,” you whisper back, but neither of you move.

Eventually, he releases you from his embrace. He turns you around gently to face him, retrieving a few squares of toilet paper to carefully clean the mess he’d left between your legs. His touch is tender as he helps readjust your underwear and smooth your dress back down, ensuring everything is in place before tucking himself back into his pants with a practiced motion.

When the two of you emerge from the stall, the woman standing at the mirror, meticulously applying her lip gloss, pauses to raise a curious eyebrow. Christopher, unfazed, gives her a polite nod, stepping to the sink to wash his hands with a casual ease. You nudge him aside with a playful bump of your hip, claiming his spot at the sink and letting the cool water rush over your fingers. He grins, those familiar dimples deepening, as he dries his hands and offers you a crisp paper towel to do the same. His fingers naturally intertwine with yours, leading you out of the restroom with a confident stride.

You both make your way back to the VIP area, the dim lighting casting an intimate glow over the plush surroundings. Rebecca is perched on Hyunjin’s lap, her lips leaving a trail of kisses along his neck. Hyunjin’s gaze lifts to you and Christopher, a mischievous glint in them. “You’ve been gone for a while,” he remarks, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. “Everything good?”

“Everything’s perfect,” Christopher responds, settling into the seat beside Hyunjin. You grab a cold bottle of water from the table before sinking into the plush cushions next to him, letting your body relax against his. His arm wraps around your back, his hand resting comfortably on your hip.

“Perfect, huh?” Hyunjin’s eyes meet yours, curiosity dancing in his eyes.

“Yeah, perfect,” you affirm, taking a refreshing sip from the bottle. You hand it to Christopher, who takes a long drink before passing it back with a satisfied sigh.

“Hmm,” Hyunjin muses, his smirk stretching across his face like a Cheshire cat as he swirls the amber liquid in his glass. He tilts his head back and finishes the whiskey in one swift gulp. “I think we need to get this one home. You ready to go, doll?” he asks, turning his attention to Rebecca, his voice a playful lilt.

Rebecca finally peels her lips away from Hyunjin’s neck, leaving a faint mark behind on his skin. Her eyes flutter as she struggles to keep them open. “I want to stay a little longer,” she protests, her words slurred with exhaustion.

He leans in and plants a soft kiss on her lips, a gentle promise. “How about we head back to the hotel, and I order us a bacon cheeseburger and fries from room service?” he suggests, his voice coaxing.

Rebecca’s face lights up, and she nods eagerly. “That sounds amazing, Jinnie,” she murmurs, almost dreamily.

Hyunjin shifts his gaze to you and Christopher, his eyebrows raised in question. “You two ready?” he asks, the invitation clear.

“Sure,” Christopher replies, nodding.

Ten minutes later, the four of you find yourselves nestled in the plush leather seats of the private SUV as it glides smoothly through the city streets, heading back to the hotel. You and Christopher are situated directly behind the driver, your back comfortably pressed against the cool window, and your legs stretched across Christopher’s lap. His hand idly traces patterns up and down your thigh. In the third row, Hyunjin and Rebecca sit close, with Rebecca’s head resting on Hyunjin’s shoulder, her eyes half-closed yet intently focused on you.

“Noelle,” she murmurs softly, her voice just audible over the quiet hum of the vehicle. You turn your head to meet her gaze. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

A smile curves your lips, warm and genuine. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

She doesn’t let it rest at that. “No, I mean it. You’re gorgeous, and you have a beautiful soul.” Her voice is insistent, imbued with sincerity.

With an unexpected burst of energy, she sits up and leans forward, reaching over the seat. Her lips meet yours with unexpected fervor, her hand cupping your cheek as her tongue softly explores your mouth.

“Woah,” Hyunjin exclaims with a chuckle as Christopher’s lips start to curl at one corner. “That is kind of hot.”

Rebecca pulls back, her lips leaving a tingling echo. “She is hot. Don’t you think, Jinnie?” she teases, eyes dancing with mischief. Without waiting for him to reply, she draws Hyunjin in, her fingers threading through his hair as she kisses him deeply. Then, with a playful push, she directs him toward you.

Hyunjin’s lips meet yours softly, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth gently before his tongue presses insistently against yours. Damn, he’s a good kisser, you think to yourself. You feel Christopher’s hand still on your knee. When you finally pull away from Hyunjin, your breath comes in short, exhilarated bursts.

“Now him,” Rebecca instructs, her smile loose and tipsy, pointing at Christopher. “He’s almost as pretty as you, Jinnie.” She bites the tip of her finger.

A laugh bubbles up in you that you fail to stifle, watching Christopher’s eyes widen in offense. “Almost?!?” he echoes, disbelief mixed with incredulity.

“You heard her right. ‘Almost’ bitch.” Hyunjin’s laughter is infectious as he seizes Christopher’s cheeks between his hands, drawing him into a kiss that’s both playful and charged. You watch as their eyes fall closed, mouths opening to each other, both of them slipping into the moment as their tongues massage against one another’s.

“Oh wow,” you exhale, the words escaping without you realizing as a feeling of warmth spreads through your body. “I think I’m kind of turned on now.” You relax back against the window, your eyes wide with wonder, transfixed by the unexpected yet captivating scene before you.

“Right?” Rebecca agrees, her grin wide with satisfaction, triumphant at the scenario she has orchestrated.

Christopher finally pushes Hyunjin away, a playful grin spreading across his features. “That’s enough of that,” he says gruffly, though the amusement in his eyes betrays his tone.

As Hyunjin leans back with a wicked grin, Rebecca eagerly slides into his lap, straddling him with enthusiasm. “Oh Jinnie, you are so fucking hot," she purrs, her voice sultry and teasing. They begin to kiss passionately, their lips moving together with a fervor that suggests they are lost in their own world.

You nudge Christopher with your foot, drawing his attention back to you. "I think you're just as pretty as Hyunjin," you remark with a playful smirk. Your comment elicits a hearty laugh from Christopher, echoing warmly in the vehicle.

"Thanks," he responds, his voice light and teasing, as he leans down to plant a soft kiss on the top of your knee, a gesture both affectionate and reassuring.

The two of you settle into a comfortable silence, your eyes locked on each other, the atmosphere charged with unspoken words. The two of you ignore the sounds of heavy petting, impassioned kissing, muffled giggles, and whispered endearments coming from behind you.

The charged silence hangs between you like a tangible thread as the four of you ride the elevator, each moment stretched with anticipation. Once back in the suite, Hyunjin and Rebecca stagger to their room, their laughter trailing off as the door slams shut behind them with a resounding thud.

You and Christopher walk hand in hand to your own room. As the door clicks shut behind you, Christopher gently draws you close, enveloping you in a passionate, lingering kiss that sends a thrill through your body. His fingers move deftly behind you, unzipping your dress with a practiced ease, while you tug his shirt over his head, revealing the warmth of his skin beneath your touch.

By the time you both reach the bed, clothing lies forgotten on the floor, and you embrace each other in a newfound vulnerability. You and Christopher slip beneath the soft, inviting covers, your lips meeting once again in a zealous reunion.

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before,” Christopher whispers softly against your lips.

“Me either,” you reply.

His lips find yours again and the kiss deepens, evolving into an intense makeout session, a dance of lips and tongues where time seems to dissolve. Despite the heat of the moment, neither of you seem eager to break the relaxed, intimate rhythm that has both of you under its spell. Neither of you move to take things further, even as you feel the weight of his body settling more firmly against yours, his bare skin pressing deliciously close. Instead of having sex again, you each savor the closeness and intoxicating intimacy that feels endless. You shift slightly beneath him, running your hands slowly up his back, feeling him shiver at your touch.

“Are we taking it slow tonight?” you ask with a soft chuckle in between kisses.

“Absolutely,” Christopher whispers back.

Lost in each other's presence, you kiss languorously, the world outside fading away. A raw connection unfurls through the endless exchange of kisses and small, teasing bites, building something more powerful than either of you expected. The hours seem to stretch and blend as you explore this tender closeness, until finally, content and entwined, you both drift into a peaceful slumber, wrapped securely in each other's arms.

When the sunlight streams through the window the next morning, you’re still tangled up in each other. Christopher's eyes remain closed, his breathing calm and even, the gentle rise and fall of his chest soothing against your skin. You take a moment to study his face, relaxed and unguarded, and trace a finger along his jawline. There’s an unfamiliar warmth blooming in your chest at the sight.

As you shift slightly, he stirs, tightening his hold around you. “Good morning,” he mumbles, voice heavy with sleep and satisfaction.

“Morning,” you reply, a smile tugging at your lips.

He nuzzles against you, pulling you even closer, as if to further erase any of the remaining space between your bodies. The simplicity of the gesture makes your heart clench strangely.

"You look beautiful," he says. His hand slides down over your shoulder, your arm, until it comes to rest on the curve of your waist.

You smile up at him with a mix of playfulness and sincerity that you rarely allow yourself to feel, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours like a drug. “I always do.”

He chuckles, pulling you even closer. The movement presses you against him, and you can feel his morning-wood against your leg. There’s an electric pause where neither of you breathe.

“Last night was a lot of fun,” he comments, his voice thick with morning drowsiness as he shifts against you. His fingers trace idle circles on your skin, setting off small, pleasurable bursts beneath your ribs.

“Which part? The shots, the dancing, the bathroom stall, or the makeout session between you and Hyunjin?” You arch an eyebrow, a wicked grin teasing your lips. “You two have definitely done that before.”

His laughter fills the room, rich and unrestrained, as his head falls back against the pillow. “All of it,” he answers, a broad smile lighting up his features. “Not quite what I expected, but I loved it. You’re full of surprises.” His hand weaves into your hair, tucking a loose strand behind your ear. The fondness in his eyes is so warm it almost makes you squirm.

“Surprises are my specialty,” you quip, but the words are softer than you intend, filled with a truth you can’t quite hide. “I’m glad you had fun.” Your voice dips with sincerity. “I did too.”

“I really enjoy our time together,” he admits. There’s a rawness in his tone that ignites a small flutter in your chest.  

“I’m glad,” you say again, with more weight this time. Your face is close to his, and you close the distance to kiss the tip of his nose before pulling back to study him. “I enjoy spending time with you too.”

You revel in the rare display of vulnerability that passes between you and him, unguarded and unhurried, like a quiet confession in the early morning light. Usually by this point, he’s slipped his mask back into place, hiding away his vulnerability.

“Can I ask you a question?” You hesitate momentarily, debating if you should break the easy intimacy with the curiosity sparking in you. His thumb brushes reassuringly over your cheek, nudging you on.

His eyebrows furrow with curiosity, revealing a boyish charm you rarely see. “Sure, anything,” he replies.

“Why don’t you like people calling you Chris?” You voice the thought you’ve had for a while, surprised that you haven’t asked him sooner. The question feels almost silly, considering the other extremely personal things he’s already shared and the deeper wonders that have been swirling in your mind. But you want to continue getting to know him, and the lightness of the question is perfect for this moment.

His body tenses slightly, the easy warmth in his expression shifting as he considers your question. You expect his usual deflection, the mask, but after a moment, he surprises you.

“I never liked it,” he says finally, his voice low and careful. “Chris.” He pauses, as if testing the name on his tongue. “It’s what my dad called me when he was alive, when he was trying to be nice or wanted something. And because I hated him, hated how he treated us, especially my mom, I didn’t want anyone outside my family, outside of who I trusted implicitly to have the privilege of calling me that.”

The sincerity and weight of his words hang between you. It feels like you’ve stumbled blindly into something precious but fragile.

“Oh,” you say softly, feeling the depth of what he’s sharing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

He shakes his head, silencing your apology with a hint of a smile. “It’s okay,” he assures you, and there’s a slight vulnerability in his eyes that makes your heart clench. “I don’t talk about him much.” Another pause, but this one is charged with meaning as his hand unconsciously grazes the scar on his shoulder; the one his dad gave him. “Or ever.”

“Thank you for telling me,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. You lean in closer, offering comfort with your presence rather than words.

His grip on you tightens again, pulling you into the solid warmth of his body. “Somehow you make it easy,” he murmurs into your hair, his breath hot against your scalp. “I somehow find myself telling you all sorts of things I normally wouldn’t.”

You want to respond in kind, to share something equally personal in return, but instead you find yourself silent, savoring this unexpected moment of openness. His candor about something so private leaves you exposed in a way that makes the walls inside you crumble even more than they already have.

Christopher leans back slightly to look at you again, studying your face with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken. There’s an unspoken understanding passing between you now, an acknowledgment of how far you've both come from where all of this started. “You can call me Chris if you want.”

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Thanks for the permission, but I already do,” you tease lightly, breaking the heaviness in the room. Chris smiles slowly, a mix of amusement and genuine fondness lighting up his face, as if he’s delighted by your sass.

Before either of you can say more, the muffled sound of giggles bursts in from the adjacent room, followed by a crash. “Sounds like they’re up,” you remark dryly.

Christopher groans into your neck. “Do we have to be?”

You laugh softly, running your fingers through his hair, surprised that the usual early bird is dodging his morning routine. “Not yet. Not if you don’t want to be.”

Content with the answer, he rolls on top of you, pinning you beneath him without breaking contact, capturing your mouth with his before you can say anything else smart. The kisses are languid and lazy, a delicious morning haze that neither of you is in a hurry to leave.

Incapable of resisting, Christopher’s hands begin to wander slowly down your side, tracing over your curves until they reach the swell of your hips. He shifts against you meaningfully, and you're suddenly aware of how hard he is against your thigh.

“What happened to going slow?” you tease breathlessly.

His smirk is wicked when he finally lifts his eyes to meet yours. “We went slow all night, remember?”

You hum thoughtfully as his mouth trails over your throat and shoulder, the warmth of him igniting every nerve. “True.”

“I can’t help it,” he murmurs into your skin. “There’s something about you that drives me crazy.”

“That so?” You arch into him as he slides over you deliberately.

“Mmm.” His lips seize yours again with renewed intensity, hungry now, but still somewhat tender, savoring every inch of your skin as if he’s memorizing it with his mouth. You gasp when he nips at your neck before soothing it with his tongue. The heat between you is almost overwhelming after last night’s slow burn.

You tug at his hair, yanking him back up to meet your gaze. “I want…”

He doesn’t let you finish the thought before he slides inside you with one powerful thrust that rips the words from your throat and replaces them with a moan.

“Ohhh…”

“I know what you want,” he growls into your ear, moving within you with an intensity that makes everything else fall away except this, this feeling that consumes and unravels and binds and frees all at once.

Your nails rake down his back as he drives deeper, matching him movement for movement until every part of you sings with pleasure that's raw and uninhibited and leaves no room for pretense or doubt or fear because right now in this moment it's just pure desire breathing through both of you like fire.

The next hour is spent in blissful oblivion: rolling sheets and tangled limbs; whispered names and promises; gasped curses and heated confessions lost in moans.

Everything builds to a shuddering climax, the orgasm hitting you fast and hard, making the world explode white behind your eyes while Christopher groans deep in his chest and follows you over the edge seconds later. Both of you are left trembling and breathless in its aftermath.

Christopher collapses onto his side next to you, panting and sweaty and more perfectly gorgeous than anyone should be allowed to be this early in the morning without coffee.

“Wow,” is all he manages after a moment where neither of you can do much more than breathe.

You turn toward him lazily, still catching your breath as well. “Yeah. Wow.” It’s not often that sex feels like that for you, like something more than just physical.

A comfortable silence stretches between you, the kind that only comes after hours of tangled sheets and whispered confessions. It feels like a secret the two of you share, something intimate and just yours. You sigh contentedly, your fingers grazing the hard lines of Christopher's chest. Eventually, his hand clasps yours and holds it against his heart.

The door creaks open suddenly, shattering the fragile tranquility, and Hyunjin sticks his head through with a mischievous grin. “How about some breakfast, lovebirds?"

Christopher groans in annoyance, but you can see the fondness in his eyes even as he feigns irritation. Your mouth twists into a smirk at the sound of Hyunjin's voice.

“Already enjoyed a ‘breakfast’ in bed, thank you very much,” you call back, making a point to sound breathless and satisfied.  

Hyunjin rolls his eyes dramatically. “I could tell. I think the two of you woke up the entire floor with all that racket.”  

Chuckling, you shake your head at the teasing. “Sorry we interrupted your beauty sleep, Jinnie!” you sing back at him, unable to resist adding, “As if you need it. By the way, there’s something on your neck.” You gesture towards the monkey bite Rebecca has left behind on his skin. Christopher laughs, his chest shaking under your cheek, and Hyunjin huffs for dramatic effect as he slaps a palm across his neck to cover the mark.

"Yeah, yeah,” he responds. “You owe me for putting up with that soundtrack.”

Christopher lets out a groan. “Get lost,” he mutters, suddenly launching a pillow at Hyunjin's head, pretending to be more annoyed than he is.

Hyunjin catches it with ease and tosses it back at you. “If you’re done fucking, we’re planning on going to the champagne brunch in an hour.” He winks and shuts the door.

“What an ass,” you say with a laugh.

“Always,” Chris replies. “The two of you seem… friendly.” 

“We are. He eats breakfast with me several times a week, unlike you. You got a problem with that?” 

“Not at all. It’s just that he rarely likes the women I bring around.” He looks down at you. “Shower?”

“God yes,” you reply, desperately needing to get the scent of club and sex off of you. He smiles and kisses your forehead before throwing the sheets off your bodies.

He grabs your hand and the two of you walk to the bathroom. As he turns on the shower, you stop to look at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Your hair is wild and lips swollen from the night before. You love the sight.

Christopher’s eyes follow yours to the mirror. "Still beautiful," he says. He kisses your neck and guides you into the shower.

As the two of you stand under the extravagant rain showerhead, washing each other’s bodies in the steamy cascade, you think about how close you and Christopher have gotten in such little time. Despite his initial emotional coldness, it’s surprising how well you seem to know him now and him you, how much his presence has started to feel like a part of you. A smile tugs at your lips, more honest and unguarded than it has been in a long time, because for the first time in years you’re happy, really happy, without reservations or second guesses. You run your fingers through his hair, water beading down his face as he watches you with that possessive affection that used to irk you when this all began. Now it fills you with unexpected joy.

This feeling continues into month five, deepening as the two of you grow even closer and sink further into each other’s lives, your connection evolving into something that feels more unguarded and natural every day. It’s astonishing to you how, despite everything, you’ve come to really know each other, and how intense the need for more has become.

You learn about the people who matter to him, the things that drive him, the insecurities underneath his confident exterior that he doesn’t bother to hide from you anymore. He gets to know you in all the same ways, and maybe in some ways you never knew yourself.

You’re outside, sitting at the edge of the pool in Christopher’s backyard. It’s early evening, and the water reflects the first few stars appearing in the Los Angeles sky. The air is warm with a slight breeze, and you can smell the faint scent of jasmine from somewhere nearby. Your feet dangle in the water as you hold your phone against your ear, listening to your mother talk on the other end of the line.

“…so I told him, ‘If you think I’m letting you touch my gardenias after what happened last time, you’re out of your mind,’” she says. Her voice is full of energy, her laugh bright and infectious.

You find yourself smiling. “Poor kid.”

“Poor nothing,” she replies with a snort. “He’s lucky to be alive after that stunt.”

“This is why you need to hire an actual gardener, not Kyle from across the street.”

“I like Kyle. He’s a cute kid. Plus I know his family can use the money.” There’s a pause, delicate but not awkward, before she continues more softly. “Thank you for remembering today.”

“Yeah, Mom." Your voice is soft, tinged with a concern you can only partially conceal. “Of course I remembered.” You swirl your feet absently through the water, watching the ripples disturb the surface. “Three years is a big deal.”

Christopher steps out onto the patio, his silhouette tall and familiar against the dusky sky. He crosses to where you’re sitting and bends to kiss your neck in greeting before settling beside you, rolling up his pants to dip his feet in too.

“Well,” your mother says after a beat. “You know I’m not one to turn down attention or gifts, especially not gifts, but it does feel nice to have you make a fuss. The jacket is beautiful.”

You take a moment to reflect on how different things are now compared to three years ago, then smile into the phone.“I’m glad you like it. I got it in Paris. I knew it would look amazing on you as soon as I saw it.”

“It looks expensive though. You know you don’t have to spend your money on me.”

“Of course I do. Who else am I gonna spoil?”

“Well I’m still waiting on my grandkid….”

“Mom.” You don’t know how many times you’ve told her you’re not interested in having kids.

“What? An old woman can dream.”

“You just turned 50. You are not an old woman.”

“I’m starting to feel like one…”

“Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want me to come out there?” You can almost see her dismissive wave, even from the other side of the country. “I can be there in a couple days. Maybe even tomorrow.”

“I’m doing fine, sweetheart,” she insists, her voice as unwavering as you remember it from when you were a kid. “You don’t need to worry about me.” She pauses, and when she speaks again, her tone shifts to something warmer. “Just promise me that wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, that you’re happy.” The statement hangs between you, unspoken but understood. It makes you glance over at Christopher; he’s watching you closely, his eyes soft as they meet yours.

The truth is that for once you are. Happy in a way that feels terrifying but real. You think of Christopher, his touch, the way he makes this life feel like something more than just survival.

"I am," you say finally, the sincerity in your voice surprising even you.

“Good, baby. You deserve to be happy. My beautiful, number one daughter.”

"I’m your only daughter," you say with a smile, making her laugh. “I love you.”

There’s a pause on her end, then she sighs softly into the phone. "Love you too," she says before ending the call.

Christopher raises an eyebrow inquisitively. "Your mom?” You nod. “How is she?" His voice is gentle but interested.

"Good," you reply, stretching out beside him so that your shoulder brushes against his. "Really good. Better than I expected." You slip your hand into his and squeeze it lightly, leaning back on one arm as you look up at the night sky. "She sounds happy."

"Doesn't surprise me," Christopher says thoughtfully, tracing circles on your palm with his thumb. "She has every reason to be."

"Yeah," you agree quietly. "Three years."

He nods and looks away toward some distant point across the pool. He knows exactly what day it is and what it means; three years since her cancer went into remission. He’s always known these things about you; even before things got personal between you two, he paid attention in ways others never did.

You turn slightly so that you're facing him more fully now. You study his profile for a moment, his strong jawline silhouetted against fading light, close enough to see how vulnerability has softened some of his harder edges lately. You catch something flicker across his face; his expression makes words spill from your lips before you've given them much thought: "Was it hard for you? After your mom?"

The question hangs between you like an echo before sinking deep enough into silence that he turns back toward you slowly. He hesitates for just a moment before turning to look at you, answering in a voice that's lower than usual, a voice reserved only for these rare confessions late at night or early mornings when neither one of you can sleep because there’s just too much inside of both of you now.

"It will be six years in a few months." You can hear the tightness in his voice, that old ache still so present even after all this time. He swallows hard and looks back out across the water. There’s tension working its way through every muscle along his neck and shoulders, an intensity that makes him seem almost fragile despite the calm face he puts on for you. The flatness of his expression doesn’t fool you. Not anymore. Not after spending almost every single day with him over the past five months. You know him too well, know how to read the smallest inflections in his eyes and voice, how to see the vulnerability underneath.

You squeeze his hand to remind him you’re there, to tell him you’re listening even if you don’t say it. He lets out a small breath like he’s trying to exhale some of the grief he's kept inside for six years, and his body eases next to yours. It’s a different kind of intimacy, this sharing of silence, of things that don’t have to be put into words for you to understand them.

He had mentioned his mom’s death nonchalantly two months ago, when you were making a gift box to send to your mom for mother’s day. You’d asked if he was ordering something for her, if he wanted you to help put something together, not realizing. “My mom died a few years ago,” he had said before kissing you on the forehead and walking out the room. He’d never said how or when, and you never asked.

"Car accident," he continues, almost like he's reading your mind. "Out of nowhere. One minute everything was fine, and then..." You watch the way the fingers of his free hand flex and clench in his lap, restless with a need for control even as he talks about losing it entirely. "Nothing I could do. It all happened so fast." He pulls his feet from the water and crosses his legs before resting his elbows on his knees, his body folding in on itself like it's too much to contain.

You reach for him, your fingers brushing his arm. He doesn’t pull away but doesn’t look at you either.

"I couldn’t stop it," he continues, a raw edge creeping into his voice. "I couldn't save her." His jaw sets with a familiar stubbornness, but there's something like gratitude in his eyes when he finally looks back at you. "She was gone before I even got to the hospital."

The starkness of his words hits you both, the first time he's voiced this out loud, the first time he's let himself feel anything this deeply in front of you. You see how deeply this has scarred him. It reveals another layer to him, another reason for why he is the way he is; this one thing he couldn't control, couldn't prevent even with the wealth he had amassed. There was nothing he could do to save her life, so now he tries to control what he can. You see how it’s shaped everything, this man who needs to possess and dictate every part of his life because the alternative is unbearable.

"I'm sorry," you say, moving closer. You're not sure what else to say, not when this is so much bigger than anything words can contain. You lean your head against his shoulder instead, offering comfort through touch rather than sentiment.

He lets out a shaky breath that feels more like surrender than relief. "I should have been with her that night," he says after a long pause filled only by the occasional ripple across water. “I was supposed to have dinner with her, but my meeting was running long and I cancelled. Rescheduled for lunch the following day.” The guilt in those words makes your heart clench tight enough that it almost hurts, the way he blames himself for something beyond anyone's control except maybe fate itself. "No one saw it coming," he says as if trying to convince himself. "There was nothing I…"

"Chris,” you say, cutting him off gently, but firmly, your voice catching with emotion as you struggle to find words that fit the moment. You tighten your grip on his hand like you're afraid he'll slip away if you don’t hold on tight enough. "You couldn't have done anything."

There's a beat where you think he might push back against this truth, might retreat behind those careful walls again because it hurts too much not to, but instead something breaks in him all at once with a shuddering breath that’s almost a sob.

He turns toward you, looking into your eyes, searching for something neither one of you can name, before closing his eyes and whispering, "I miss her." Then he lets out everything he's been holding inside: grief and loss and guilt and love tangled together so tightly that they unravel into tears before your eyes.

You watch as years worth of restraint slip from him, dissolving under grief still fresh enough to leave jagged edges. You’ve never seen him like this before, completely undone, and it cuts through every defense you've spent years building around yourself.

His head drops into his hands as emotions crash over him, leaving him unguarded and vulnerable in a way that makes your heart ache with equal parts hurt and hope.

You reach for him instinctively, ignoring the voice inside telling you not to get too involved because your heart isn’t meant for this kind of risk, and pull him close. Then he's folding forward into your lap without warning or shame; breath hitching against your stomach while tears soak through fabric onto skin beneath until they're indistinguishable from heat rising up between both bodies now pressed close together under the night sky. You wrap him in your arms with nothing between his pain and your comfort.

“Shh,” you murmur into his hair as he clings to you with an urgency that would have terrified both of you months ago. You hold him tight through each shuddering wave of emotion that follows; hands rubbing slow circles along his tense muscles until they finally begin relaxing under steady pressure. “It’s okay.”

His shoulders shake under your touch, each ragged breath a reminder of how deep these wounds still run even after all this time. There are no words left for either one of you now; what's happening here doesn’t belong in language or logic or contracts written on paper—it exists somewhere beyond all those things where everything is raw but real.

It feels eternal at first, the two of you suspended together outside the world, but gradually Christopher's breathing steadies against you as reality seeps back into focus around edges softened by tears neither one ever expected.

"I'm sorry," he whispers finally into the quiet space between heartbeats. His voice sounds different than usual: less certain; more alive because it dares expression despite fear holding so much else hostage until now.

He holds you tighter like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he doesn’t, burying his face into the crook of your neck, unable to look at you. Unable to face you, as though he’s ashamed for letting the grief swallow him whole, ashamed for losing control, ashamed for showing you how deep his scars really go. You’ve never seen him like this before, so raw and human, without the armor of confidence and power he usually wears like a second skin.

"For what?" You tilt his chin up slightly so that he has no choice but to meet your eyes, pouring everything you can’t quite say into that look, telling him without a word that he has nothing to be sorry for, that you’re not going anywhere. You want him to feel it as deeply as he feels his guilt, to know that you’re as in this as he is, that you’re not afraid of his scars, his grief, or any of his emotions.

His eyes search yours, looking for the truth in them, and you feel the moment he finds it. Tension releases from his body like a tightly coiled spring finally unwinding; it spreads like a wave, leaving him pliant and unguarded. You know how rare this is, this surrender, and you can hardly believe it’s you who’s inspired it. You’ve spent years keeping your own heart under lock and key, barricading doors and imagining yourself safe from the kind of emotions that have always promised more risk than reward. But now here you are, tilting his face to yours while everything around you grows sharp and clear and terrifyingly beautiful.

A strange, unwelcome thought niggles at the back of your mind, that Julia was right to warn you, but you shove it aside. She’d never had this with him, had admitted that he’d never been emotionally open with her. What the fuck did she know. 

Right now there’s only Christopher in front of you and the way he holds on tighter, the way he lets you pull him back from the edges of his sorrow and straight into the warmth of the present. He buries his face in the crook of your neck again, and the gesture is so childlike, so sweet, that even you can’t ignore the truths beginning to take shape inside.

You’re starting to care. Really care. More than you ever expected when this began and more than you know how to deal with.

You wonder if he knows. You think maybe he does, that he’s known even before you did and that’s why he’s laid his heart bare here tonight.

You hold each other quietly for the next few minutes, until he finally pulls away and leads you back into the house by the hand for dinner.

You realize you’re cherishing the time the two of you spend together.

You find yourself laughing more, talking more, just being together more as you both give in fully to the pull between you. Sometimes it’s as simple as lying in bed, his fingers tangled in your hair as you doze off against his chest; other times it’s more like a whirlwind, like extravagant dates in cities you’ve never been to before. And every day, despite yourself, you love how normal and real your relationship with him, if that’s even what this is, is starting to feel. 

A/N: They've finally kinda confessed feelings.

What do you think? Keep the comments coming. I really love hearing your thoughts on the story.

Only 3 chapters left.

[www-findringo-com]

I recently got back into Black Clover, and i miss my sweet princess yuno so much. So i'm making this series out of boredom.... enjoy!!!

Next

From Afar

A Yuno Grinberryall × Fem!reader written by Ringociocco.

Playlist

1. Somethin' stupid - Frank Sinatra, Nancy Sinatra

2. See you again - Tyler The Creator, Kali Uchis

3. Heart racing - Kanii, Riovazz, Nimstarr

4. I must apologise - Pinkpantheress

5. Pain - Pinkpantheress

6. Back to the old house - The Smiths

7. Hatachi no koi - Lamp

8. A night to remember - Beabadoobee, Laufey

9. Infrunami - Steve Lacy

10. Lovers rock - Tv Girl

11. Tek it - Cafunè

12. Something about you - Eyedress, Dent May

13. Notion - The Rare Occasions

14. Looking out for you - Joy Again

15. Show me how - Men I Trust

16. The perfect pair - Beabadoobee

17. Duvet - Bôa

18. The way things go - Beabadoobee

19. Lovesick - Laufey

20. Glue song - Beabadoobee, Clairo

21. Bad Habit - Steve Lacy

22. First love/ late spring - Mitski

CHARACTER LIST

not stealing Sawako from kimi ni todoke,

this is just the way i visualise the MC.

https://pin.it/5qqyzbuSk

(Hanabi Pinterest Board)

Name: Y/N Hanabi

Age: 6 (Prologue) 15 (meeting Julius) 16 (at the entrance exam)

Pronouns: She/Her

Magic: Firework Form

Mana: Royal level

Status: Commoner of the common realm

Squad: Blue Rose

Close friends: Asta, Noelle Silva, Mimosa Vermillion, Magna Swing, Luck Voltia, Leopold Vermillion, Sol Marron, Puli Angel, Charlotte Roselei, Wainsley, Yuno, Serene Kira .

Name: Yuno

Age: 16 (when he meets Y/N)

Pronouns: He/Him

Magic: Wind form

Mana: Royal level

Status: Paesant of the forsaken realm

Squad: Golden Dawn

Close friends: Asta, Mimosa Vermillion, Klaus Lunette, Y/N Hanabi, Bell .

Name: Asta

Age: 16 (when he meets Y/N)

Pronouns: He/Him

Magic: Anti-Magic

Mana: None

Status: Paesant of the forsaken realm

Squad: Black Bulls

Close friends: Yuno, Noelle Silva, Magna Swing, Luck Voltia, Finral Roulacase, Vanessa Enoteca, Charmy Pappitson, Gauche Adlai, Gordon Agrippa, Grey, Secre Swallowtail, Zora Ideale, Henry Legolant, Nacht Faust ,Yami Sukehiro, Mimosa Vermillion, Klaus Lunette, Leopold Vermillion, Rill Boismortier, Sally, Kahono, Kiato, Mars, Fana, Fanzell Kruger, Liebe, Rebecca Scarlet, Y/N Hanabi, Lolopechika .

Name: Sol Marron

Age: 19 (At Y/N's entrance exam)

Pronouns: She/Her

Magic: Earth Form

Mana: Commoner level

Status: Commoner rescued by Charlotte Roselei

Squad: Blue Rose

Close friends: Charlotte Roselei, Puli Angel, Y/N Hanabi, Wainsley, Borja, Risacca, Selena, Galgaria .

Name: Charlotte Roselei

Age: 27 (At Y/N's entrance exam)

Pronouns: She/Her

Magic: Briar form

Mana: Noble level

Status: Noble, Blue Rose brigade Captain

Squad: Blue rose

Close friends: Sol Marron, Puli Angel, Y/N Hanabi, Wainsley, Borja, Risacca, Selena, Galgaria, Dorothy Unsworth, Yami Sukehiro( kind of).

Name: Noelle Silva

Age: 16 (When she meets Y/N)

Pronouns: She/Her

Magic: Water form

Mana: Royal level

Status: Noble of the house of Silva

Squad: Black Bulls

Close friends: Asta, Magna Swing, Luck Voltia, Finral Roulacase, Vanessa Enoteca, Charmy Pappitson, Gauche Adlai, Gordon Agrippa, Grey, Secre Swallowtail, Zora Ideale, Henry Legolant, Nacht Faust ,Yami Sukehiro, Mimosa Vermillion, Kahono, Kiato, Y/N Hanabi, Lolopechika .

Name: Mimosa Vermillion

Age: 17 (When she meets Y/N)

Pronouns: She/Her

Magic: Plant form

Mana: Noble level

Status: Noble of the house of Vermillion

Squad: Golden Dawn

Close friends: Yuno, Klaus Lunette, Asta, Noelle Silva, Y/N Hanabi, Lolopechika, David, Letoile, Hamon, Dorothy Unsworth .

Name: Julius Novachrono

Age: 43 (When he meets Y/N)

Pronouns: He/Him

Magic: Time form

Mana: Royal level

Status: Wizard King

Ex-Squad: Grey Deer

Close Friends: Yami Sukehiro, William Vangeance, Marx, Damnatio Kira, Owen, Serene Kira.

PROLOGUE

Ever since i was a kid, I could remember the townsfolk around me praising me for my silly magic: " Wow, Y/N! you're really living up to the Hanabi name"

I never understood if they were making fun of me for my name and magic or if they were actually impressed by my childish magic, either way I played along: I acted nice and thankful to them, entertaining them with my fireworks and putting on a show for those who were so unfortunate to not own enough magic. As I grew up, I kept seeing my magic as stupid and useless, but everything changed when that woman from the land of the sun stumbled in our hostel.

"Uhm, excuse me, are there rooms available?"

That woman was beautiful, with long silky black hair, and her deep black eyes had a shape that could make the prettiest woman in the world jealous. She was so different, yet it was impossible not to find her beautiful. Even I ,a 6 year old, found her attractive.

Time passed by, and that woman never left, Mizuki was her name, and she said it meant hope. Hope is a concept that she embraced wholeheartedly. Being able to survive the trip from the land of the sun to the clover kingdom was a miracle, and thanks to it, she regained the strength to "hope." Mizuki taught me a lot about her homeland, and I was so fascinated by it. Not only that, but she also helped me work my magic with her knowledge and with her "hope."

"Your magic, it reminds me a lot of festivals back home," She spoke softly: "It's a very unique attribute. I think you'll become a great mage Y/N-chan!" .

I scoffed. Me? A great mage? As if, I'm a lowly commoner with the stupid magic of creating silly sparkles. Yet she was so convinced of herself that I almost believed it for a moment. Time passed, and I grew, and Mizuki never left. To be honest, I was glad. She was the first person who was true to me.

I was 14 now. One year left before i could get my grimoire. I was walking home when I saw Mizuki walking out of the town with her bags. I froze.

"Mizuki! Please, wait. "

She turned around, and in that moment, my memories of her arrival here came back in my mind.

Even if i didn't notice, she had changed so much. Her long silky black hair was now short and not as beautiful as it once was, her clothing from the traditional clothes of her land to the rowdy commoner clothes of the clover kingdom. The only things that didn't change were her piercing, unique black eyes that, to my surprise, were swelling in tears as she took in the vision of me.

My vision was blurry, my lips started to pout, and i could feel something ticklish and wet falling down my cheek. Mizuki dropped her bags, froze for a second, and then started sprinting towards me. I knew what was coming, so instinctively, I opened my arms, waiting for her embrace. One that had conforted me for 7 years, the same one that made me feel safe and happy.

" Y/N-chan, I am so sorry. I never meant to leave you like this, but my homeland has summoned me back, and I still have a duty to fulfil back there." She stopped for a second as she sobbed uncontrollably. "My dear, I'll miss you so much. These years have been the greatest of my life, and with you, I sealed a bond no magic will ever break. So please. Never forget me and know that I will be back!"

" I hope so, Mizuki!"

The feeling of her embrace was one I could not forget. She was gone, but her touch was still on my skin.

I walked back into my family's hostel, and I was met by my relatives wearing gloomy faces. They, too, had a bond with the foreigner. I went up to my room, reminiscing on everything I could have done with Mizuki or everything i should have told her. When I noticed a medium-sized box on my bed, next to it laid a letter titled : To my Dear Y/N. The letter was signed by Mizuki, so i took no second thoughts and immediately opened it.

Inside, the letter read:

Dear Y/N, I'm sorry for leaving so abruptly, but there are just many things in my country that I yet need to discover. Over the years, we have built an amazing bond, a string that no matter how strong the magic it will never break us apart. A string that will always lead us back to one another. That is my hope.

Even if it takes us a hundred years, we will meet again, and for me to recognise you From Afar i gift you this piece of clothing from my country. It is a modified piece to be more comfortable in battle because I know you will become the strongest mage in the whole kingdom of clover. In the occasion that it happens, I ask you not to forget your values nor me, the same way as I will never forget you, my darling.

As of now, there isn't much for me to say, I hope you don't despair for me because I don't want my beautiful sparkle to loose it's fire. Whatever happens, just know I will protect you From Afar Y/N-chan.

All my love. Mizuki.

I stared at the letter for a few minutes before little water droplets started to fall on the paper. I hated crying it was a way to express weakness, yet I couldn't stop my tears from overflowing in my eyes.

I sat there in silence a few second, the only thing you could hear were my short sobs and my breath hitches. Then, I decided to open the box.

Inside was a kimono, but it was different from the ones she wore: It didn't have a skirt and the ends of it were very loose; even the top was loose which was weird since she taught me that wearing the kimono incorrectly was just offensive and rude yet here it was an immodest kimono wow. Ironic Mizuki. The sleeves started very tight and after the elbow it got insanely large. Even if this was VERY modified, it still looked cool. The whole cloth was mainly a dark red adorned with traditional cloud motives and the bottom of the sleeves had red hibiscus flowers on them.

Next to the kimono sat many other things: An obi alongside an obi-age and an obi-shime, a big headpiece with a bow and somesort of upside down small fan? That's what it looked like. And huge wooden sandals, which I'm pretty sure the sole was a bit too big.

" Thank you, Mizuki "

Even when she was going to abandon me, she still thought of leaving something for me to wear in the future. That woman is full of kindness in her heart.

We'll meet again someday, I know it

Author's Note

Ermmmm, I have no idea if this will actually make it in my brain as a fanfiction, but i'll try to keep it updated! In the meantime, please enjoy this intro + short prologue!!!

The MC is kinda based off my Oc and you can kinda see that, I did also put in another Oc of mine who i didn't give info about if you want to know more about Serene Kira let me know!

[pupsmailbox]

Do you have any names similar to Neomi ? ( specifically in like the sound of it if you can ! )

NEOMI / NAOMI︰ abigail. adrienna. ailsa. alex. amelia. amii. amy. anali. aria. ashe. asher. athens. aurora. ava. avery. azalia. benjamin. caleb. camil. casi. charlotte. chloe. clari. daniel. daphne. david. delilah. eden. edna. eleora. elijah. ember. emma. esther. eve. evelyn. ezra. gabriel. genai. gessica. hanita. hannah. harper. hazel. helena. hosanna. ilarion. isaac. isaiah. ivy. jaimy. james. jeana. jemi. jessebell. jordan. joshua. josi. josiah. kasi. katherine. kaïs. khairiya. lavender. leah. leilani. levi. liam. lily. lizette. luca. lumi. luna. lydia. mahaila. margot. maya. mia. micah. mikayla. miriam. nadia. nahimana. naia. naimah. naime. naiya. name. nanne. nanny. naomh. naomy. natalie. nathan. nayan. nayana. neah. neena. neenan. nehemiah. nemo. nena. neo. neomonni. newman. nia. nickysha. nima. nimai. nina. nnenia. noa. noah. noe. noelle. noemi. nohea. noli. noma. nonyem. nora. nova. noy. nuha. numa. nyomi. oliver. olivia. olsen. orrin. owen. penelope. phoebe. quinn. rachel. raquel. rebecca. romi. romy. rosarita. rosemarie. rowan. ruth. sam. samuel. sarah. sashi. scarlett. shepherd. sophia. sydney. talia. talli. vera. violet. willow. yannick.

[1solone]

The problem is,

We look for someone to grow old together,

While the secret is to find someone to stay a child with!

What does LoVe mean to 4-8 year old kids? Slow down for a few minutes to read this...💕

A group of professional people posed this question to a group of 4 to 8 year-olds, 'What does love mean?' The answers they got were broader, deeper, and more profound than anyone could have ever imagined!

'When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore... So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love.' Rebecca - age 8

'When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.' Billy - age 4

'Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other.' Karl - age 5

'Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs.' Chrissy - age 6

'Love is what makes you smile when you're tired.' Terri - age 4

'Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK.' Danny - age 8

'Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and just listen.' Bobby - age 7 (Wow!)

'If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate.' Nikka - age 6

(we need a few million more Nikka's on this planet)

'Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it every day.' Noelle - age 7

'Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well.' Tommy - age 6

'During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling.

He was the only one doing that. I wasn't scared anymore.' Cindy - age 8

'My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night.' Clare - age 6

'Love is when Mommy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken.' Elaine - age 5

'Love is when Mommy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford.' Chris - age 7

'Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day.' Mary Ann - age 4

'I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones.' Lauren - age 4

'When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you.' (what an image!) Karen - age 7

'Love is when Mommy sees Daddy on the toilet and she doesn't think it's gross...' Mark - age 6

'You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget.' Jessica - age 8

And the final one: The winner was a four year old child whose next door neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife. Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman's yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there. When his mother asked what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy said, 'Nothing, I just helped him cry.'

(this made me cry!)

Now, take a few seconds and post this for others to inspire and spread LoVe like butter!

And then be a child again today!🍂🦋💙🦋💖🦋😘💕

[deathxanamon]

Fits Noelle

Noelle: [singing] No chance, no way! I won’t say it!

Kahono, Rebecca & Dorothy: Give up, give in, check the grin you’re in love.

Noelle: This scene, won’t play, I won’t say I’m in love!

Nero, Mimosa & Lolopechka: We’ll do it until you admit you’re in love.

Noelle: You’re way off base, I won’t say it! Get off my case, I won’t say it!

Vanessa, Charmy & Grey: Girl don’t be proud, it’s okay, you’re in love.

Noelle: At least out loud, I won’t say I’m in love...

[rakubalka]

30 Legend Worthy Beef In This Au

Yami Sukehiro vs William Vangeance - rivals to lover vibes

Asta vs Sally - aka Doctor with Morals vs Doctor without Morals

Jack the Ripper vs Nozel Silva - enemy to maybe if you squint your eyes at the right angle lovers

Zora vs any corrupt noble -self explained

Any and all Agrippa vs the Sun - it runs in the family their hate for the sun

Charlotte vs biggots

Purple Orcas vs Finral

Yuno vs the current Clover king's political party

Kahono vs all Silvas minus Noelle

Mereleona vs people's bullshit

Rebecca vs most of Hell

Fuegoleon vs the eye of the midnight's sun more specifically Fana - it wasn't even the coma that did it , it was being put as the especially high priest of the Fire God that did it

Leopold vs people's expectations

Asta vs unruly patients

Yuno vs unruly folks of animals

Nacht vs himself - he needs some serious mental and emotional help

Luck vs baths

Magna vs bikini armor

Noelle vs her ex-siblings

Gauche vs anyone threatening his precious people

Gray vs Julius - mainly when in transformed state

Vanessa vs the witches queen

Nozel vs Decaf

Charmy vs people wasting food

Father Otris vs Julius and Zenon both

Sister Lily vs child predators

Mary vs anyone threatening her precious people

Magna vs Yuno - only when flying on a broom however

Nero vs incorrect historical facts or documents

Mimosa with poison vs people underestimating her

[hannahhook7744]

Descendants Background Characters Names (Redone) Part 4;

Crysta (Blonde girl), one daughter of Arista (Ariel's sister) and Dylan. Seaside High was in serious danger of overcrowding, so quite a few students were encouraged to attend Auradon Prep instead.

Brian Robinson (glasses guy), son of Lewis and Franny Robinson.

Aqua, one daughter of Aquata (Ariel's sister) and Nexar.

Sitara, daughter of Mowgli and Shanti.

Trevor, the son of Big Nose and Assunta.

Prince Henry (the guy behind Mal and Lonnie), son of King Richard the Lionheart. He's supposed to go to Sherwood High, but he got expelled.

Shira (girl behind Evie), daughter of Ariel's friend, Gabriella. One of the Seaside students who transferred.

Leon du Lac (guy beside Evie) son of Lancelot du Lac and Elaine of Astolat (he's an exchange student).

The girls behind him are Mary and Dorothy, daughters of Tiana's friend, Georgia.

The red head girl under him is Sigrid, daughter of Kai and Gerda.

Adonis Jr aka AJ (right next to Lonnie), son of Adonis and Helen of Troy. His older siblings attend Olympus High, but his father thought he was too nerdy to compete.

Silvie (behind AJ), daughter of Sharma.

The girls below him are Princesses Noelle and Natasha, daughters of Cavin and Princess Calla.

Guy in stripes is named Prince Rowan, son of Wee Dingwall.

Girl in yellow beneath him is Celestina Potts, youngest daughter of Mrs. Potts.

Guy in a blue T-shirt is named Samuel 'Sammy' Sweet, son of Joshua Sweet.

Guy in a yellow T-shirt is named Makaio Bubbles, son of Cobra Bubbles from Lilo and Stitch (Bubbles adopted him from an unsuitable home).

The guy below them is Prince Ajax, son of Prince Thor and Pearl. One of the Seaside transfer students.

The guy next to Makaio is Prince Reynard, son of Princess Willow.

The girl next to him is Princess Wenhua 'Wen', daughter of Yao and Princess Mei, who flat out refused to go to the Imperial Academy.

Guy below her is Johannes Little, son of Little John.

Salvatrix Mim aka Sad Sally Mim, granddaughter of Madam Mim.

Elizabeth 'Lizard' Thropp-Tigelaar, daughter of Elphaba and Fiyero (aka the Wicked Witch of the West).

Orlie, daughter of Orddu (Member of Uma's Crew).

Owena, daughter of Orwen and Bill Jukes (she's the youngest member of Uma's crew).

Morven Mim, aka Mimpathy Morven, grandson of Madam Mim.

Farley-Fletcher Fflam, son of Fflewddur Fflam.

Maureen 'Goo' Yagoobian, daughter Michael 'Goob' Yagoobian (Member of Uma's Crew).

Murky Maggie Mim, granddaughter of Madam Mim (she has four legs. This may or may not be Dorothy Tremaine's fault. Member of Uma's Crew).

Ula and Uziel, daughter and son of Uliana.

Shepherd Scaremonger, Aka the Boy Who Cried Wolf.

Seth White, son of Snow White and Prince Florian. Along with Princesses Noelle again and Audrey.

Princess Natasha again.

The girl next to her is Rebecca, daughter of Safi.

Felicidad Daniela Ruíz, she's the daughter of one of the Encanto villagers. The boy next to her is Prince Ajax again.

Jonas again.

The girl below him is Adda Slim, daughter of Alameda Slim (Member of Uma's Crew).

The guy next to Jonas is Morven Mim again (Member of Uma's Crew).

Dizzy Tremaine.

Guy next to her is Abner, son of the Gendarme (Member of Uma's Crew).

Girl next to him is Tara, daughter of King Trevor (Member of Uma's Crew).

Guy behind her is Blaise, son of Morgie (Member of Uma's Crew).

Guy in the pirate hat is Sean, the son of the Sherriff of Nottingham (He's a member of Uma's Crew).

The girl behind him is Susan Finkelstein, Dr. Finkelstein's daughter (Member of Harriet Hook's Crew).

The girl next to him is Quinlynn Hearts, daughter of the Queen of Hearts (and member of Harriet Hook's Crew).

 Axel, son of the Huntsman. 

Bathsheba (girl with the bandana), daughter of Ammand the Corsair.

Rummy Bloodbeard (boy behind bandana girl), son of Captain Bloodbeard.

Kevar (Kid in pirate hat next to Bandana girl), son of Marquis de Bouillabaisse.

Daang (First kid in goggles), son of Ed.

Niki (Red Head Girl), daughter of Hecate.

Birger (Kid with green hat), son of Loki.

Desmend (2nd kid with goggles) , son of Ed.

Harlan Alan Never, son of Arika the Mermaid.

Vidal Pezmuerto, son of Señora Pezmuerto.

The girls in the pink dresses next to Uma and Elle are Annika and Raylene Jenkins, the daughters of Coach Jenkins and Sappy.

------------------------------------------------------------

Thanks @igetthedisneybox and @casinotrio1965 for the help.

[roosterforme]

Emily, I'd love to know more about the Daddy x Princess one-shot!

Hey, Rebecca! I answered this one already, but I'm thinking about another one-shot or blurb about the day they bring Noelle home from the hospital. Skittles would be very interested in a baby! And Bradley and Noah have just been adding ladies to their lives lol

WIP ask game

[vilandel]

You're My North

Summary “Your mother was right, it’s okay to feel lost, you can always find north again,” Vanessa whispered, putting the necklace around her neck. “Although, I don’t think that I risk to feel lost anymore. You’re my north, after all.”

A/N Today is Vanessas birthday and it's still Fluffmay, so this is the perfect opportunity to also post this little oneshot I wrote exactly two years ago... And it is a Surfer AU, just because I think that Nozel would be an excellent surfer 💘

Ao3 link

♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣

“You’re going to throw a party.”

It wasn’t a question and she got confirmation as she saw her best friend looking at her in surprise before looking away.

“Come on, Vanessa. How did you find out?”

“Oh, I don’t know. You all just weren’t as subtle as you wanted to be. Especially Yami, he didn’t even try and I just played dumb.”

“I’m going to kill him,” Finral sighed, as he was turning the wedding band on his finger.

“You can’t, he’s your boss. Not to mention that it would be a crime, my dear.”

“I know.”

Finral looked over at his boss, the owner of the Black Bulls Motorcycles, who was sitting at the bar, drinking his third or fourth beer and complaining that he couldn’t smoke because the smoking area of the beach restaurant was still under renovation.

“Kaiser seems so unfaced. I know many people who would have lost after just five minutes of Yami complaining,” Vanessa giggled, as she saw the owner of the Purple Orca just listening to Yami while cleaning some glasses.

“He just has the patience of a saint. Well, it was needed to transform this place from a crime’s nest into a little paradise,” Finral just said, taking a sip from his pineapple juice.

Vanessa couldn’t agree more. She liked Kaiser. He was one of the chilliest persons she ever met and since he took over this restaurant, the Purple Orca transformed from a shady bar with hidden criminal activities and the reputation that went with it to a nice place, favourite spot of Raque for inhabitants and tourists, surfers and swimmers. A place where you can having a party or enjoy your evening after a day of work. Or both.

“So, um, Vanessa…”

“Yes?”

“Could you please do as if you don’t know? We booked the entire place, Kaiser and his wife helped to prepare everything, Morgen finally managed to catch Nacht so he can be here for the evening, Dorothy has prepared something as well and there will be a lot of people, for a big and nice party, just so as you like them. And Noelle especially seems very excited, so…”

Vanessa hide her smirk. She knew exactly why Noelle was excited.

“Don’t stress, Fin, I will play the surprised birthday girl like it’s expected on me. I’m happy that Nacht will come too and I’m curious what surprise my boss will do.”

Dorothy came from the same place as her. Witchtown looked like a lovely town in the middle of the Forest, but it wasn’t that nice once you knew the background and Vanessa had been at a good place to know that, as daughter of the mayor.

But she chased those memories away. She was already visiting therapy for her past trauma and her birthday wasn’t the day to remember something unhappy.

At that moment, she saw Noelle enter the restaurant, her surfboard under her arm. Vanessa made a sign and the young princess just waved back, before sitting alone at some table near the terrasse. Rebecca, a friend and a teenage girl who worked at the Purple Orca during some of her free time, immediately went to take her command and probably for some girl talk.

“What’s up with Noelle?”

“Oh, she went surfing and hoped to see Asta, but he went to the train station. Yuno is back from Spade, apparently and you know Asta, he won’t miss an occasion to spend time with his adoptive brother.”

“Ah, I understand. Poor sweetie. She still won’t admit her feelings and Asta is so oblivious.”

“Not to mention that she’s royalty. Dating someone out of your circle is difficult when you’re royalty, even in those modern times.”

Oh, Vanessa knew that. Probably better than Finral knew. But that was still her secret.

“Noelle even learned to surf to impress Asta, even though she would never admit it,” Finral continued. “I still wonder who taught her though. She never accepted help from anyone, of course. But someone had to teach her how to surf.”

Vanessa giggled. Oh, she knew exactly who taught Noelle how to surf.

“Don’t worry about Noelle, I’m sure she will gain her good mood again this evening for the party. Speaking of royalty, do you think the prince will come?”

“Yes, he will. Lumière finally found some free time. But you know, he will mostly spend his precious moments with Secre.”

“Ah, young love. They’re so cute together.”

“Yes, but the king won’t accept their relationship so easily. He might be an idiot, but you know that king Augustus is very peculiar on this topic. For anyone in the three royal families.”

“Won’t stop his son to date Secre.”

“No, it won’t. You’re right about that.”

Vanessa finished her drink and let her pay on the table. There was a place she wanted to go and someone she wanted to see.

“I see you this evening, Fin. Greet Finesse for me.”

“Will do. Where are you going, anyway? How many bars you want to drunk run before coming back?”

“None. There’s someone I want to see.”

“Ah, that secret boyfriend of yours…”

Usually Finral wasn’t that cheeky. Only when the topic was about the mysterious man who she was dating for months now. But unlike most of her friends, Finral actually believed that it was real and not some fantasy.

“Yes, that secret boyfriend of mine. I will eventually bring him to the party this evening.”

“Oh, we finally going to met him? Well, that means I won my bet.”

“You did have bets about my significant other?”

“Yep. But mostly if that person was real or not. Only Noelle and I did bet that he was real. Yami and those who made bets were sure it was just a fantasy of yours.”

“Going to prove them wrong, then. It’s not because that I didn’t have the best experience with dating that I’m desperate to invent someone.”

“I know that. Whoever that guy is, he makes you happy and that’s the most important. I’m really curious to finally meet him.”

“You’ll meet him this evening. See you later, Fin. And greet Finesse for me.”

Vanessa waved and practically run out of the restaurant. She was impatient to see Nozel.

♣♣♣

Raque was a vacation paradise for bathing and surfers. Even most members of the three royal families preferred to live here rather than in the capital. Well, the Kiras, Vermillions and Silvas had each their own estates in Raque, while they shared one big palace back in the capital of Clover.

Vanessa was happy to live in Raque. But even though she loved the beaches and the noise and everything that could happened on the beaches, often she preferred the hidden, secret creeks and beaches, when she wanted time for herself.

Or spend time with her boyfriend. It was on a secret beach she properly met him after all.

It was their place. Hidden between trees and some flat, round rocks was a little, beautiful white shore, with often the perfect waves for a surfer. Today, on the late afternoon, this little paradise seemed to shine in a pale golden glow. The sun was sometimes hidden by a few passing clouds, but Vanessa didn’t care. A pure blue sky could get boring over time and clouds at least were always changing their shape, telling a new story with each new form.

And there he was. Her silver surfer.

Full of glee, Vanessa dropped her beach bag on the sand just next to his, took her burgundy towel out and sat on it, admiring the talent of her boyfriend.

Nozel was an amazing surfer. It was fascinating to see how each way, each art of riding waves had no secret for him. And almost no one knew about his talent. It was one of his secrets and Vanessa only found out about it when she searched a new secret beach to have some time for herself. By coincidence – or was it Fate? – she chose exactly the hidden shore Nozel used for his surf training.

Like her, Nozel didn’t have an easy past. An absent father who were always harsh once he came home and the terrible accident of his beloved mother, who had been in comatose for years and who was today too weak to take care again, left him basically alone in charge of his three younger siblings. He had his aunt from the Vermillions to help him, of course, but the pression that was always present for royalty even today and other things had make things overly difficult for him, to a point that it gave him a cold mask despite himself. It was only recently that he began to allow to give himself more freedom.

What had been helping him all those years were his secret hobbies. Nozel called them his sanctuaries. Reading books and poetry, history and of course surfing. Vanessa had been ready to keep his secret, if she was allowed to share hislittle beach.

They bonded over time, get to know each other and opened up to their hidden wounds. From friendship something more deep grew between them. Something that over time unmasked itself as love.

It was almost a year since they were secretly dating, with only a few people being aware on this new royal relationship. Secre found out first and soon prince Lumiere too, who was gladly helping his distant cousin with his own romance. Noelle found out by accident and after some shock, she became basically their number 1 fan. Dorothy knew it too and Vanessa suspected Fuegoleon Vermillion, Nozels rival in… a lot of things, to have some suspicion.

It was nice to have a secret like that and Vanessa enjoyed the sweet calm it gave them. Because she knew that once a royal relationship was out in the open, there will be a storm coming from them. She remembered well how the whole country reacted to Lumière and Secre. Paparazzies would find their way to get the best scoop with no respect for privacy, the social media would comment and assume the craziest things and a good bunch of royalty would make faces at a match rather unfit for royalty. Which was a stupid argument, they weren’t living in medieval times.

But Vanessa was ready. She wanted to grow old with Nozel, to share his happiness and burden. They couldn’t hide forever. And most importantly, what was between them was worth those hardships. She saw how it made Lumière and Secre stronger with their bond. Vanessa was certain that it will be the same for Nozel and herself.

The coming out at the party would be the start of it. It was something Nozel and Vanessa decided a while ago.

Also, it was her birthday and unhappy thoughts were forbidden today.

She waited for Nozel to finish his rides and come out of the water. How long before he’ll realize that he wasn’t alone anymore?

Not long for once, he saw her the moment he went out of the water, his surfboard under his arm. And still Nozel took his sweet time to come at her. To prolong the joy, maybe? Or was it because he was in awe seeing her like this, in her new burgundy bikini? For some reason, he was always seemed in a loss or words when he saw her in a new outfit, even if it was just her in some unappealing comfy clothes.

When he was finally at her spot and put his board down, Vanessa couldn’t wait anymore. She jumped up and right into his arms.

“Hello there, handsome. Missed me?”

“Happy Birthday, Vanessa.”

He didn’t answer for her question, nor did he wait for her thanks. Nozel went straight to her lips, giving her a soft kiss, but still passionately.

Nozel didn’t let her go as they parted. Vanessa even had the feeling was holding her tighter. She couldn’t help but smirk a bit.

“Do not worry, stud. We still have hours before the party and after that, we have the entire night. Alone together,” she whispered in his ear and couldn’t help to feel triumphant as her boyfriend blushed slightly.

“Your place or mine?” he still asked, with a glimmer in his eyes that made her heart beating faster.

“Mine, it’s my birthday after all. Don’t worry, I tidied… a bit.”

“Hm.”

“And you can be at ease, I haven’t touched the clothes you left in my appartement last time, you’ll be fine.”

“Speaking of, you let your pink hairbrush in my room three days ago.”

“Oh, it was there? That’s why I couldn’t find it, despite knowing my mess by heart.”

Vanessa giggled and Nozel allowed himself to smile.

As they sat down on their towels, Nozel began to search for something in his bag.

“I’ve got something for you.”

“Oh, is it you?”

Nozel stopped searching to look at her, puzzled. “Why would you think that?”

“Well, you’re my boyfriend and the greatest gift I had in years. A gift that I’m going to fully enjoy tonight.”

She winked and laughed as Nozel looked away, blushing again. “Well, thank you… but it’s… something else.”

“You could give it to me at surprise party, like everyone else.”

“I could, but… I prefer to offer you my gift now, while we’re alone. It’s… well… Let’s just say I don’t want Yami to tease me. More than he would, after we’ll announce our relationship.”

Vanessa could understand that. She was sure that Yami wouldn’t let an occasion slip to tease Nozel. He’ll already tease her boyfriend endlessly when they’ll come out of secrecy and to be honest, she didn’t want to give Yami anymore reason to tease Nozel today. Not on her birthday.

Nozel finally gave her gift. It was wrapped nicely in some silver paper, with an elegant marine ribbon. It was almost a waste to destroy it, but Vanessas curiosity won over her admiration.

Still, she carefully pull the ribbon away and gently teared the paper away, only to reveal a simple black box. She looked at her boyfriend, but he simply nodded his head, a small smile on his lips.

As Vanessa opened the box, a strange and beautiful necklace appeared. It was a round silver pendant, decorated with arabesques and holes in form of stars. It looked old and not at the same time.

Vanessa took the pendant in her hands to observe it better, only to realize that she could actually opened it, so she did.

Inside was a compass. Old-looking and elegant, like the ones maybe corsairs used centuries ago. Vanessa was actually in awe, because it was really nice handwork. She never thought much about compasses before, but this one was very much for her liking.

“Nozel… it’s beautiful. Thank you.”

She wished she could say more, but she couldn’t find any fitting words to express her gratitude. Nozel only smiled as he tugged one of her locks behind her ear.

“You’re welcome. I’m happy you love it.”

“I still do wonder… why a compass? Does it have some deeper meaning?”

“It does.”

His eyes went towards the sea, where the waves crashed beautifully on the sand. He looked like he was lost in some past memories. Vanessa wondered which ones. Recent ones, like the hours he spent here with Noelle to teach her how to surf? Or older ones, when it was his mother who helped him learning the art of riding waves.

He took his time to answer, but Vanessa didn’t pushed. The moment they shared right now seemed too precious to be distraught.

“When I was little, I had a huge fight with my father. Well, it wasn’t really a fight, but we had some heavy disagreement. I don’t remember what it was about, just that in the end, I was sad and angry. Both at my father, because he was never proud of me, and at myself, because I still longed for his attention, despite knowing better.”

Nozel sighed deeply before continuing, “My mother came to comfort me. That day, she gifted me a compass, similar to the one I gave you. She told me that it was okay to be lost from time to time. All I needed to do was to find north again. My own north, as she said. I just… well… I wanted to give you something similar.”

He looked away, clearly embarrassed. It was so adorable.

Vanessa smiled as she looked back at the compass. It was a beautiful story, like every one which include his mother. She wished that she could one day finally meet Acier Silva, once she would feel a bit better.

“Your mother was right, it’s okay to feel lost, you can always find north again,” Vanessa whispered, putting the necklace around her neck. “Although, I don’t think that I risk to feel lost anymore. You’re my north, after all.”

Nozel looked at her, puzzled but smiling. Vanessa didn’t let him say something though, as she went straight to his lips to pull him into a soft, passionate kiss. Which he returned immediately.

As she lied in his arms, enjoying his company, Vanessa felt that it was a perfect birthday indeed. She would spent the rest of the afternoon with Nozel, cuddling, kissing, maybe they might even go to swim or he would surf with her. Once they got a call from Noelle, they would leave their beach and quickly make a stop at her appartement to make themselves fresh, before finally going to her surprise (not so anymore) surprise party at the Purple Orca. And after that, they would have the entire night for them.

Vanessa smiled happily. This plan sounded perfect, just as it should be for her birthday. Looking at Nozel, she couldn’t help but think that her own north was not only good-looking, but also the sweetest boyfriend someone could ask for.

[falangesdovento]

Perguntaram a um grupo de crianças, o que o AMOR significa?

AMOR é quando a minha avó com artrite, que não conseguia pintar as unhas dos pés. Então o meu avô pinta lhe as unhas, mesmo quando as mãos dele tb têm artrite.

Rebecca - 8 anos

AMOR é o quando nos fazem sorrir quando estamos cansados ou tristes.

Terri - 4 anos

AMOR é quando a minha mãe faz café para o meu pai e ela toma um gole antes de lhe dar, para ter a certeza de que o gosto está bom.

Danny - 8 anos

AMOR é quando queremos aprender a amar melhor, e percebemos que devemos começar com o 'amigo que detestamos'.

Nikka - 6 anos

(precisamos de mais alguns milhões de Nikka 's neste planeta)

AMOR é quando dizemos que gostamos da sua camisa, então a pessoa que amamos usa-a todos os dias.

Noelle - 7 anos

AMOR é o que aconteceu durante o meu recital de piano, eu estava no palco e estava com medo, todas as pessoas estavam a olhar para mim, entretanto vi o meu pai a acenar e a sorrir...

Ele era o único a fazer aquilo, e aí eu perdi o medo.

Cindy - 8 anos

AMOR é quando o nosso animal de estimação lambe o nosso rosto, mesmo depois de o termos deixado sozinho o dia todo.

Mary Ann - 4 anos

AMOR é quando o vizinho idoso estava a chorar por ter perdido a sua amada, o menino foi até ao quintal do velhote, subiu no seu colo e ficou sentado ali... Quando a mãe perguntou ao menino o que disse ao vizinho, o menino disse: 'Nada, só o ajudei a chorar.

(Uau, isso me fez chorar!)

Desconhecido - 4 anos

(Desconheço a autoria)