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scentedpeachlandcreator · 8 months ago

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how i manifested my dream life with extremely hard circumstances + how you can too ♡

Note: this is not my post and it's blushydior's post that everyone been searching for, so i thought why not making it as a post,and blushy if you see this, please don't kill me i know you said that you'll change your post but you disappeared After that.

♡ table of contents:

1. the importance of making this post

2.my take on manifestation + the 3D

3. HOW I DID IT - my journey in 4 phases i went through that include my mindset changes up to the moment i got my desires

4. your new rules & routine from this moment on

5. a note from me!

6. frequently asked questions: separated into topics regarding the 3D, self concept + miscellaneous questions to have you leaving this post stress free.

now let’s get into it. read every bit of this post “ ~ ୨୧ ♡ ·

I. THE IMPORTANCE OF MAKING THIS POST

i’ve been through it all. you can read my experiences from old life in the “my life before” section of my success story + here, here, here and here. this is my success story on how the law of assumption has changed my life. as you can see from the “how” section of the post, i had purposely left it short, sweet and simple to avoid people complicating the simplicity of the law of assumption. but as time went on, anons and other blogs made me realize that since people do tend to over-complicate the law, the need i felt to make an in-depth post on how i personally manifested through my hard circumstances grew strong.

my blog often highlights topics that pertain to mental health, so i want to make sure those who find themselves in the same situations as i once were feel seen, heard and loved. you are all so powerful, amazing and hold so much potential more than you know. with this post, i hope i am able to help you realize that fact to the best of my abilities.

𝐈𝐈. MY TAKE ON MANIFESTATION + THE 3D

something that you’ll see me say all the time is: “life is a blank canvas.” that’s because it truly is.

remember that you are working with the law of assumption. what you assume to be true, is true. nothing is set in stone unless you say it is. things have meaning only if you assign it one.

you are the sole creator of your life. you are the artist that controls the brush/pen, you control what goes on and off of this very malleable canvas we call life. you don’t have to do anything. therefore,

you don’t have to: affirm 24/7, be specific, word your affirmations correctly, listen to subliminals, ignore the 3D, be positive all the time, meditate, have high vibrations, script, visualize, do sats or lullaby, go into the void, affirm in the present tense, avoid the mirror, etc.

you can literally say a random word like “bonk” and if saying it means you have all your desires or money is constantly filling your bank account, then that’s what will happen!

“but what if my subconscious doesn’t know what it means?” your subconscious mind is literally you. it’s not some stranger separate from you. if you want a scene to play out a certain way on a specific date or a romantic partner with all the most perfect qualities even if you can’t name it all at the top of your head, your subconscious has your back with the details! you have your own back. don’t worry.

YOU DON’T HAVE TO IGNORE THE 3D.

read that again and again and again and again and-if your circumstances are quite literally in your face, how can you turn the other way and ignore it? you could if you wanted but you’ll only be doing more harm and we don’t want that, right?

“so then what do i do?” you KNOW it’s going to change. it’s challenging when you don’t fully believe the law to know it’s going to change, so for a start, tell yourself that this is not the end. why? because the moment you had a desire and claimed it as yours, it has already been set stone in the 4D so the 3D has no choice but to reflect it. this is your movie, you KNOW this is not the end. you are director and star of this movie! you control how it’s going to play out.

𝐈𝐈𝐈. HOW I DID IT - The 4 Phases (more so, 3)

PHASE 1:

i found out about manifestation from tiktok. from there i have tried scripting, law of attraction and had taken a liking into the craft. i tried it all until i found out about the law of assumption, sammy ingram and finally, tumblr.

PHASE 2:

upon finding out about loassumption tumblr, i had learned more and more about the law but as time went on, i had realized i had never really fully tried to apply the law. the idea just didn’t come about to apply it. as many others, i had overconsumed information, always wondering if i was doing it right, questioning the 3D,

so i took a break. upon discharge, i realized many things and decided to spend an extended amount of time alone, away from social media. i’m someone who values alone time as long as if it’s spent wisely.

during this time away from tumblr and sns platforms in general, constantly surrounded by other people’s takes, information, and opinions, i had learned so much about the law of assumption on my own! i went into the law of assumption with a fresh mind, actually applying the knowledge and overtime of affirming and persisting, i ACTUALLY understood the meaning behind “creation is finished. it is done.”

i’m advising you to step away from social media (that on it’s own has negative impacts) and be alone with your thoughts. i know your thoughts haven’t had it’s time to be alone because you’re most likely constantly seeking information to help you. and i don’t blame you. it’s just that, you are always bombarded by thoughts that aren’t your own, you barely give some time to yourself to think for yourself!

and if you can’t help but be on tumblr for other reasons than loassumption, unfollow blogs for the time being, scroll past informational posts to avoid second guessing your application. tell yourself that

YOU ARE DOING EVERYTHING RIGHT!

PHASE 3:

when it was time to apply the law, i simplified it. you choose what you desire, you affirm from your desire and persist. okay! got it. so that’s what i did. i affirmed whenever i thought about my desire, i kept saying that it is done! so in phase 2, i mentioned how i realized how creation was ACTUALLY done, right? before deciding to apply the law, i kept seeing posts saying that but i didn’t really fully understand it until the realization hit me during my time away from social media. (see? i love alone time. solitude is my bff) — here’s my breakdown for you:

once you decide a desire is yours to claim, THE SECOND you affirm that, in your head, imagination, your 4D, it is ALREADY yours. therefore, it has no choice to become physical reality. (this is why your subconscious only needs to hear things once in order for it to conform!)

it will always be yours for as long as you sustain that assumption (persist), it is yours! no matter what.

this is the meaning of “it is done.” it’s like telling a chef what dish you want, once they know what you want, they’ve got you covered. except that this chef is you. you know the details of your desire, you declare it’s going to conform instantly so why are you worrying? there is no need to worry.

informational post on the 4D + 3D here:

❝ If you judge after appearances, you will continue to be enslaved by the evidence of your senses. To break this hypnotic spell of the senses you are told, "Go within and shut the door,” The door of the senses must be tightly shut before your new claim can be honored .Instead of fighting against the evidence of the senses you claim yourself to be that which you desire to be. As your attention is placed on this claim, the doors of the senses automatically close against your former master (that which you were conscious of being). As you become lost in the feeling of being (that which you are now claiming to be true of yourself) the doors of the senses once more open, revealing your world to be the perfect expression of that which you are conscious of being. ❞

i kept time away from social media and being persistent really helped me be aware of my thoughts.

persistence has helped me:

be aware of thoughts that i wouldn’t have been able to catch before. for example, i was declaring that i have all of my desires and creation was done, but i found myself affirming “okay but where is it?” — this made me realize i was questioning my desires in my 3D even though i knew it was done in the 4D. (you don’t have to do this, you can imply your 3D conforms fast with whatever affs)

flip and interrupt my intrusive thoughts faster and faster the more i persisted. i hated my intrusive thoughts so much. like it was so annoying and hurtful. it was filled with replaying past scenarios that happened to me, things i wished had played out differently, just people who absolutely did not deserve the right to be occupying my mind and space! so i was grateful to learn that with persistence, i started to have less and less of those.

(see!! mental diet, persistence!! <3 this is how habits form and strengthen duhh. remember not to abandon common sense for the law)

AND THEN, PHASE 4:

i had entered sabbath, the state of the wish fulfilled, calm and relaxation that my desire has already manifested and there wasn’t nothing left for me to do other than persist. after so much persisting and saturating my mind with my affirmations, i reached being peace with my desires. i’m really glad i persisted. see how after persistence of assumptions, though false, will harden into fact? see how even your affirmations would feel “fake” at first but will soon feel natural to you? this means that i wasn’t questioning where it was, how long it was taking, etc. but this doesn’t mean i was ignoring my 3D. i saw it all but i knew it was going to change BECAUSE i felt peace in my inevitable desires.

then, i received my desires.

❝ I couldn’t possibly be worried about anything if I really believe that imagining creates reality. ❞

❝ When I speak of feeling I do not mean emotion, but acceptance of the fact that the desire is fulfilled. Feeling grateful, fulfilled, or thankful, it is easy to say, “Thank You,” “Isn’t it wonderful!” or “It is finished.” When you get into the state of thankfulness, you can either awaken knowing it is done, or fall asleep in the feeling of the wish fulfilled. ❞

𝐈𝐕. YOUR NEW RULES & ROUTINE

☆┆YOUR 3 NEW RULES ARE:

1, you have all your desires:

i have all of my desires.

creation is finished. it is done.

2. you manifest quickly and easily:

manifesting is always so easy and instant for me.

i always manifest within 2 days or less, the 3D conforms instantly.

the 3D instantly reflect my 4D.

the physical reality instantly reflects my 4D/imaginative reality.

3. you are okay because nothing can stop you from getting the inevitable:

everything is going to be okay because creation is done.

i am always aware of my thoughts. nothing can stop/get in the way of my desires.

no amount of intrusive thoughts, events and opinions of others have the power to stop my manifestations.

✉️: choose one affirmation from each list or make one of your own that makes you feel comfortable.

☆┆ROUTINE:

affirm on loop as an act of saturating your mind whenever you think of your desire until you feel satisfied,

in the morning, after you wake up: saturate your mind with affs.

read the manifesting vaunt below everyday (whenever you feel like it) — read it over and over again until you feel confident then go about your day!!

at night, before you sleep, affirm this:

“i kept all my thoughts in check today. i didn’t waver once. my mind is completely saturated with the new story.”

optional tip: if you want to saturate your mind even more as a start, you can set reminders with sticky notes around your space, have affs on your phone lock screen or wear a bracelet.

✉️ NOTE: soon enough, your mind will be saturated and you won’t need to do this anymore. this is just a start for those who battle intrusive thoughts!

let yourself feel any emotions that may come up because of your hard circumstances then once it’s out of your system, affirm your rules, especially rule #3!

do not consume any loassumption information if you know it will only cause you to second guess your ability. if you have the urge to ask a blog a question, try to make sense of what they will say and answer it yourself.

in times of doubt, remember that life is a blank canvas. your desire is set in stone, so your only task is to persist.

REASSURANCE VAUNT

creation is ACTUALLY finished. it is done. the second i claimed my desires as mine, it has already manifested itself in the 4D so it has no choice to present itself in the 3D! all i have to do is affirm and persist. i always have unwavering faith in my manifesting abilities and the law. i never fail. i am successful at every single thing i do. manifesting is so effortless. no amount of doubt, worry, fear, anxiety, intrusive thoughts or events can ever, and i mean EVER stop my manifestations. why? because i said so. this is MY life. i make the rules. so if i say i manifest easily, the 3D conforms instantly and that i have all of my desires, then it is a FACT. i’m literally unstoppable. everything i want is inevitable. my only task is to persist, sit back and relax as the 3D reflects my 4D. it all happens so fast, but what else do you expect from a master manifester like me?

SOMETHING TO NOTE:

most of the time, people think affirming on loop is saying it like a robot but what you don’t realize is that you’re affirming as if you’re reading a book. it’s not filled with enthusiasm but it’s not exactly monotone either. stop overthinking it. it’s like the voice you’re reading this post with. correct?

again, soon enough, your affirmations will feel natural and you won’t feel the need to affirm constantly. the routine above was given for those who battle intrusive thoughts, making your affirmations dominate to the point where you don’t waver.

QUOTES on STATES:

❝ I paid thirty dollars for my first suit. Today a suit will cost me $200.00, but regardless of the cost, when the suit is new I am aware of it. But let me wear it long enough for it to feel natural and I will no longer be conscious of it. The same is true for a state. You may desire the state of fame. If you will think you are famous and remain conscious of the state long enough to make it natural, as the thoughts flow from you they become a natural part of your body of beliefs, and the world will proclaim your fame. ❞

❝ I urge you to use your own wonderful creative power and deliberately move into the state of your choice. Make it now by occupying the state long enough so that it feels natural. Haven’t you had a suit of clothes that felt so new you were conscious of them every moment? I know when I bought my first suit I walked down Fifth Avenue thinking everyone I passed knew my suit was new. People passing paid no attention to me, but I was so aware, so conscious of my new suit. That’s exactly that happens when you move into a new state. If the state of affluence is new, you think everyone knows it, but no one knows or cares whether you are rich or poor, so walk in the state until it becomes natural. The moment the feeling is natural, wealth is yours! ❞

𝐕. ENDING NOTE

i love you. read that again. you can do it. read that again. i am so so so so proud of you. read that again! you are so strong, you have SOO much potential and power. it’s time for you to tap into it, angel. stop making excuses. stop telling yourself you can’t do it. stop the nonsense! you’ve dealt with your hard circumstances long enough, it’s time for you to turn to the person who can make that change (you) and make it happen. i’m really sorry you have to go through what you did. you certainly do not deserve the unkind treatment. give yourself a hug and tell yourself that this. is. it. you’re going to make the change. you know it and i do too. it’s possible. nothing is impossible for the person who believes! keep the faith in yourself. nothing can stop you.

it’s like those movies where the mc finds out they hold so much power. they doubt it because of the life they’ve had so far but once they give it a shot, they become the most powerful hero ever. you are that hero!!!

i love you and i am, again, giving you the biggestttt hug ever.

now, with that being said, @blushydior will no longer be taking asks regarding this topic. i’ve cleared most of the questions that could ever arise. you don’t need my guidance anymore after this post! im seeing you off now. i love you. stay safe. know that you’re loved and hold the power to change your life.

— kisses from bambi ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

ps. make sure you clicked the words that have links! <3 (the links are missing)

𝐕𝐈. FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS

Something you wish you could’ve told yourself before you manifested it all to make things easier for anyone struggling:

TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF.

you guys are beating yourself up for something so simple. take a step back and realize that. you’re already dealing with such hard circumstances, so why are you literally degrading yourself for something so within your power and reach? tell yourself everything is going to be okay. you’re always doing your best. you deserve the WORLD.

I could write a whole novel, combine all the posts on tumblr teaching the law of assumption, and every helpful ask out there but at the end of the day, YOU are the only person who could change your life. YOU make the call. turn every doubtful question to a positive one, when in doubt, turn inwards toward the 4D and know that it is real. it is done the second you affirmed it so.

SPEND TIME ALONE.

i can NOT stress this enough. i didn’t include the details of my time alone in phase 2 for nothing. you’ll see that you can answer your own questions. you’ll catch the thoughts you missed because you have always been so adamant on getting answers to questions you already knew. take a deep breathe and stay firm.

SEE WHAT’LL HAPPEN IF YOU DON’T GIVE UP.

What did you affirm to get your dream life?

basically my affirmations i gave above and these. all i used were blanket affirmations.

What does persisting mean to you? What does persisting really feel like? Is it just like a mental diet? or what?

“persisting is sticking to what you want / the end no matter what you’re shown, told, and what you experience + picking yourself up after letting any negative emotions & thoughts pass by.” — blushydior from this ask here (sadly the link is missing:()

+ keeping your thoughts in line of the same category. to word this in a different way, i can affirm so many affirmations just as long as they mean the same thing to me!

“it also is a mental diet. we’re always persisting in something. it’s just a matter of what you’re persisting in. you either persist in your desire or negative/non-beneficial thought 24/7.”

“in your post about how you changed your life, you said you just affirmed and persisted. but from your other posts it seems like you read neville goddard books. so did you just affirm or did you do imaginal acts too? i get confused when people say “just affirm and persist” cause neville never said that.” (original ask here) (note from Eli: the link is missing).

“yes, i read his books and sometimes i would do imaginal acts but i would only do that bc it helped me get by my circumstances, yk? like if i was overwhelmed i would just daydream lol. its like how i read books to escape to another world. but i would say, affirming and persisting was what i focused more on.

i just used what worked for me and used his quotes as a reminder of the power of man. i didn’t want to bound myself to one’s teaching constantly worrying if im doing it “right” or not so instead, i went back to his quotes that consisted of telling me to persist, look inwards, finding confirmation in my imagination, etc whenever i needed a pick me up.

but correct me if i’m wrong, i’m pretty sure many of the success stories he shared consisted of people simply decreeing their desires and feeling the wish fulfilled simply by repetition and acceptance of their assumption.”

What is saturating your mind?

read about it here (the link is missing, but Basically it is repeating an affirmation every minute or hour until you feel fulfilled)

Do we have to believe our affirmations? Did you ever doubt the law in the process?

no, i did not believe my affirmations and YES of course i doubted the law but i kept persisting either way because what could i lose? and here i am.

Did you just affirm, persist, maintain a mental diet and that’s it? No SATS, going to the void, lullaby, repeating affirmations? Did you just got it sleep?

just affirming and persisting. sure, the occasional lullaby, i usually affirmed for 10 seconds max before i gave up. i couldn’t sleep without imagining some romantic scenario LOL #bambiexposed

How to deal with manipulation and narcissism?

remind yourself that you’re in advantage because you know about the law of assumption. life is a dream, you can literally have whatever you want just by affirming. if you know that, why allow yourself succumb to other people’s thoughts and beliefs? i couldn’t allow other people’s thoughts ruin my chance of living my dream life. the thought of it alone gave me the worst feeling.

How did you tackle the feelings of having no hope? + After being in the victim state for so long what did you do to get yourself out and actually stay out?

i persisted on loop whenever i doubted the law. i reminded myself that it doesn’t hurt to just be quiet, affirm and persist to live my dream life. just do it. you gain nothing from turning back to your old habits. see what’ll happen if you don’t give up. ❝ Do you always turn to your imagination and, no matter what happens, do you remain faithful to the state imagined? If you do, you have passed the test. But if every little rumor, doubt, or fear can move you around like a pawn on a chessboard, then you are not keeping the faith! ❞ ❝ Objects seem so independent of our perception of them that we incline to forget that they owe their origin to imagination.❞

What was the timeframe of when you got your desires?

about a week after deciding to be strict with self discipline, mind you, i was dealing with hard circumstances and intrusive thoughts for years. within this time span, i had entered sabbath so i immediately got my desires.

How did you kept a positive mindset when it looked like there was no movement?

refer back to phase 3

What was your affirming routine?

AT FIRST, when i started to get sick of overconsumption and not getting my desires, i knew my mind wasn’t saturated/my desires were not my dominant thoughts. so, i decided to be strict with myself. i reminded myself with pieces of paper in my room that said: ❝ PERSIST. new story only!❞ ❝ AFFIRM!❞

❝ 1.) the 3D conforms instantly.

2.) AFFIRM THE DESIRED

3.) BE LOT.❞

and taped them on the wall infront of my bed & one on my door so i can see it before i head out.

i didn’t need them anymore after a few days. (phase 3 & 4)

What did you do on all the days you woke up and things were still the same?

stop affirming that you don’t see results. i flipped the thought of “nothing’s changed.” to “i am in my desired reality, it is done.” and so on. be stern and remind yourself that you are in control. don’t fall prey to the 3D. turn inwards, find confirmation in the 4D. read quotes above.

How did you not react to the 3D?

i allowed myself to be angry. if i wanted to cry, i did. if i wanted to vent, i did. i ranted my feelings out in my head, aloud or in a journal then proceeded to go back to the new story after i cooled down.

But isn’t ranting “not letting the old story die out?”

you and i could rant until our minds are cleared, just as long as you flip my thoughts, you are on the right track. i ranted for 2% of my 24 hour days. the other 98% i was persisting in the fact that creation was done. as “time” went on, it began to feel more natural and i felt more at ease. i held onto that feeling because i knew this was when i would get my desires and i did. letting out and actually feeling your feelings is important. you’re not a robot.

Did you script how your life would be?

no.

(.𖥔 ݁ note from Eli: here's her post about her life before and After she changed it with LOA, anyway i wanted to make it in a post since the Google document can't let you make a copie of it and plus you can't take screenshots which René didn't allow)

#law of assumption #loa tumblr #loa #loa blog #law of manifestation #how to manifest #loassumption #void state #affirm and manifest 🫧 🎀✨ ִִֶָ ٠˟#affirm and persist #vaunts & affirmations #4d reality #master manifestor #loa success #instant manifestation

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trashbatistrash · 2 years ago

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#I’ve been writing fanfiction in my head too often and not enough on paper #I do this thing where I visualise the scene let it play out and then put it down on paper #but like I forget that my brain also does this thing when it comes to media #where I overinterpret a scene of let’s say five words #I kind of do this thing where I read a paragraph and I imagine what’s going on in the characters heads and their motivations #and why they’d act that way #anyways my brain decided that simplifying my writing was the way to go #beautiful.#if only the simplifications were more evocative #looking at it now it’s very plain #it’s literally a work made for me because my brain’ll do the busywork for it #and like #I don’t want that obviously if I want to publish this fic I’m struggling with rn #I don’t recall my other works being this simple tbh #ramble #rant #maybe I’ll just stream of consciousness type and see what comes of it then try to edit it down to something readable

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cheapshrimpysheep · 9 months ago

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Pocky Game

SUMMARY: How would they react if you asked them to play Pocky with you? Do they already know the game? How do they act while playing? And who is the first to finish the biscuit stick and kiss the other?

CHARACTERS: All NRC students (except Ortho)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Bullet Points; Kissing; suggestive?

WORD COUNT: An average of 310 words per character.

COMMENTS: I had this idea for some time but only now did I write it down. I don't know what else to tell to you other than: I hope you enjoy 😘

CONTEXT: The Pocky game is a party game played with Pocky, a Japanese chocolate- or candy-coated biscuit snack. Two participants place the Pocky between them “Lady and the Tramp” style, and try to be the last to hold onto the biscuit, often resulting in a kiss.

Since it's a game similar to the famous scene from "Lady and the Tramp" where they eat spaghetti, my headcanon is that this game exists in Twisted Wonderland.

How to play:

Pick a partner that you wouldn't mind kissing.

Face your partner and put a Pocky stick between you. Each partner takes an end of the Pocky stick in their mouth.

Each partner bites their end of the Pocky stick until their mouths meet in the middle. The first person to pull away loses!

Riddle has no idea what this game is, you'll have to explain it to him. “So, if I understand correctly, you lose if you pull away and you win if you keep eating the biscuit stick. Very well. It sounds simple. But is there any purpose to the game? Is it some kind of endurance test?” You say, in a way, it can be seen like that. He smiles.“I see. Are there any other rules I should be aware of before we begin?” You say no, that you already explained everything.

You put the biscuit stick in your mouth and point the other side at him for him to bite. He does so and you begin the game. The closer he gets to your face the more he will blush. Until he starts having difficulty looking you in the eye and diverts his attention to the biscuit stick, which makes him make a cute face.

When there is only one bite left to finish the game, it is his turn and he pulls away. “W-wait!” The only times he gets redder than he already is is when he's angry, but of course this was not the case. “You never said there was a possibility that neither of us would pull away. If we both continue eating the biscuit stick until the end, what happens? Because if we had continued...” He looks away, embarrassed.

You apologize because you thought finding out during the game would have been a fun surprise. But you didn't know he wouldn't like the idea of... kissing you.

“What? No, no! It's not that I don't like the idea, I actually really wish I had done it... it's just that... I didn't know that it was the objective and I didn't want to, you know, be ill-mannered in case you...” Then he gets slightly upset with you. “You should have warned me! You lied to me when you said there were no more rules.” He smirks confidently. “If you were a student of Heartslabyul, it would have been off with your head for this. But I will allow you to play again and if I consider the end of the game satisfactory, you will have my forgiveness.”

In the second round, even though it's his turn, he will stop and hesitate, he wants you to be the one to consent. So you take the last bite and kiss him. You feel his lips relax. And If you deepen the kiss, he will reciprocate and hug you, pulling you towards him by the waist.

Ace knows this game so well that it's not you who invites him to play, it's he who invites you. “You also bought a box? Ha ha ha, we thought the same thing. That's a good sign.” He winks at you and smirks. “What box do we start with?”

While you play, he looks you in the eyes with a mischievous and provocative look, to see when you will chicken out and lose. The longer this takes, the more he will smile and the more smug his look will become. His face reminds you of a sly cat.

When there's only one bite left for your lips to meet, he stops, to let you choose whether to kiss him or give up and lose, while he looks you in the eyes defiantly.

If you finish the game and kiss him, his eyes will widen in surprise, but soon after that he will close his eyes and you will feel his lips form a triumphant smile. He place a hand on the back of your head to deepen the kiss.

He's the one who breaks the kiss with the most smug smile he's capable of. “Wow, chill out. We still have a lot of biscuit stick to play with.” There is a pause in which you reply. “What do you mean I was more excited than you?!” He blushes. “Lie! You were enjoying it as much as I was!... Wait! I mean...” He blushes even more. “You know what, let's play again to find out.” He smirks again.

The name of the game is not unfamiliar to Deuce, but you’ll have to remind him what kind of game it was. You explain the rules to him, that both players eat the biscuit stick from one side and the first one to pull away loses. “Okay, so whoever finishes the biscuit stick first wins?” He asks and you confirm.

“I see. So let's... wait! What happens if none of us pull away?” He asks innocently. You suggest that he finds it out while you play. And he trusts you, so he accepts the suggestion.

You put the biscuit stick in your mouth and point for him to bite the other side. He does so, and as your faces get closer he begins to blush.

As the two of you take bites, it seems to bring out his competitive side, causing him to pay more attention to his bites of the cookie than to the fact that he's getting so close to you.

He's the one who takes the last bite and kisses you. But he'll quickly jump away and start apologizing. “Sorry, I didn't mean to- I mean I didn't think- expected-” He stammers, unable to finish a sentence and almost as red as when his Housewarden gets angry.

If he sees you looking sad or disappointed because it looks like he didn't want to kiss you, he'll immediately tell you that's not the case! Clumsily, and stumbling over his words.

“Wait... that... that's what you wanted? T-To kiss me?” The poor boy is a little slow. But now that he's realized this, he's going to try to muster up all the confidence he can and suggest that you try it again. And if you take out another biscuit stick to play again he'll be like: "Ah, yes! Try again the game, yes. That... that's what I meant, haha”

Cater was the one who had the idea. And it was probably trending on Magicam. He will ask you to play in the cutest way that only he knows how to ask. “Oh, you know this game too? So you can play with me right? Right, [Y/N]-chan~? You're not going to tell me that you've already played this with other people and you're not going to play it with me. You're going to make Cay-kun very sad, and a little jealy~.”

If you accept, he'll ask you if he can film you two playing. He promises not to post it on Magicam if you don't want him to, but the footage will be so cute that he'll at least want to keep it as a souvenir for himself. “Pretty please~?”

He will play like it's any other game, while looking sweetly into your eyes. Yes, he is taking the opportunity to flirt with you. If you get embarrassed, even just a little bit, he'll find it super cute.

He will let you take the last bite and decide whether to kiss him or not, while he looks at you seductively as a way to convince you to kiss him.

If you do, you'll feel his lips form a smile as he deepens the kiss. One of his hands on top of one of yours and the other on your cheek.

After the kiss, he will stay very close to you, wanting to hug you and with his forehead touching yours, laughing. Like those couples on social media.

Trey recognizes the name. “It's that game where two people eat the same biscuit stick until they meet in the middle, right?” He smiles awkwardly. “Isn't it usually played between crushes?”

If you answer yes in a way that makes him understand that that is exactly why you want to play with him, he'll give you that rare smirk of his, and chuckles. “Okay. I'll be happy to play with you.”

Even though he knows how the game works, he will let you have more control over the game. You'll take the first bite and he'll follow, as if the fun part for him was seeing you having fun and not the game itself.

He will be smiling sweetly the whole game, but when only the last bite is left, his smile turns into a smug as he looks into your eyes, and he kisses you, kindly and relaxedly. Then he'll pull away with that smug still on his face and he'll even lick his lip.

“Well, I guess we both won. That's what you wanted, right? Did I play well?” His expression is a mix of his gentle side with the rare cheeky side. “Oh,you would like I hadn't pull away so soon? Sorry, I'm still getting used to the rules of the game. I don't mind playing it again if you want. It was fun. With or without the biscuit stick.”

Yes, Leona knows what game this is, and he will tease you for wanting to play it. “Isn't that a cubs's play? How cute.” he says lying in the botanical garden, as always. “And why are you asking me to play? Do I look like someone who plays these games?”

You take that as a no (or at least as a 'try to convince me') So you say that if he doesn't want to, you'll find someone else to play with. Points if you say something like: "Maybe Tsunotarou would like to play with me."

“OI! I never said no! But if you want, you'll have to play with me lying down, because I'm not going to get up to make you that favour.”

He just straightens his head, resting it against the base of a tree before you begin. He opens his mouth for you to put the biscuit stick in his mouth. The only thing he'll do is bite that whenever it's his turn.

At first, his expression is neutral, almost bored. But every time your face gets a little closer to his, a smug smile forms on his lips. In the last bite, not only is he smiling, he's looking you in the eyes like a greedy predator.

He takes the last bite, attacking you with a kiss. He's been standing still the whole game, so when he does that you almost get a jump scare. Just like felines preparing to attack.

But he doesn't just attack you with the kiss. At the same time he puts his hands on your waist and makes you lie underneath him.

He breaks the kiss for a moment and looks at you to see your reaction with the most smug smile on his face. “As if this wasn't why you asked me to play with you. Now deal with the consequences.”

Jack doesn't know what game it is, but maybe he's heard the name somewhere. You'll have to explain it to him.

“Okay, it sounds like a simple game. And... You want to play it with me?” He says rubbing his neck. You say yes and if he wants too. “I... I think I don’t mind.” He says wagging his tail.

If you insist on knowing if he is really sure he wants to play with you, he will stop beating around the bush and tell you bluntly: “Yes. Yes, I would like to play it with you.” But blushing a liiittle bit.

You are the first one to put the biscuit stick in your mouth. He will follow you. He'll be flattered the whole game. He's never played a game so... intense for him.

Whenever your eyes meet, he looks away and his ears lower.

When there's only one bite left he'll stop and let you decide whether you want your lips to meet or not.

If you kiss him, his ears will immediately stand up straight! And if you don't pull away, he will relax, his ears will go back down, and he’ll deepen the kiss.

And you might be surprised when that shy boy a minute ago, suddenly pulls you close to him by your waist and turns the kiss into a passionate one. His tail wagging like crazy, by the way.

And as suddenly as he brought you closer to him, he will pull away, embarrassed for having let himself be carried away.

He will start apologizing and if you want to keep the flame burning, the best option is to shut him up with another kiss. He will love that.

A game that involves eating? Sign Ruggie up! A game that involves sharing food? “Hum... In that case I should have something else for the halves I let you eat.” He bargains with you.

You can try to dissuade him with something like: “But it's just a silly game. And it's just a biscuit stick.” But he will respond with: “It could even be a freshly picked dandelion, I don't play with food.” He's telling the truth, but trying to appear playful.

You suggest giving him the entire box if he plays with you once. But play the game the way it should be played, not finding a way to play around the rules just so he can keep the box. “Shye hee hee. Don't worry, I have no reason to do that.”

You're the first one to put the biscuit stick in your mouth and wait for Ruggie to start eating the other side. But he looked at you and the cookie with a mischievous look, came closer, opened his mouth and... ATE ALMOST THE ENTIRE THING IN ONE BITE! Leaving you just one bite away from placing your lips against his and ending the game. His gaze was cutely mischievous.

If you finish the game and kiss him, he will hold it for a second just to see if you don't pull away. And when he realizes that you are enjoying the kiss, he will grab you by the waist and deepen the kiss. And there is only one way to describe his kiss: Greedy

Azul doesn't recognize the name of the game, but when you explain it to him he realizes it's a land version of one that exists under the sea. And he'll ask you if he can see the box.

He glances at the front, but then turns it over to see the ingredients list on the back. He's counting the calories, isn't he? You try telling him something like, “Come on, it's just a silly game. Just a little biscuit stick.”

But to your surprise, he starts talking about how a game can be a brilliant marketing strategy, to wonder if he could incorporate those biscuit stick into a dessert on the Mostro Lounge menu and whether the students would be interested. You ask for his attention again.

“I’m deeply sorry for wandering off in thoughts while you were talking to me, but I heard everything you said, don't worry. And since you just gave me an idea for a special new item on the Mostro Lounge menu, the least I can do is accept your invitation to play. That might teach me more about this product. And... that way we’ll be even, correct?” He adjusts his glasses.

His confidence starts to slip as the game starts and he realizes how close your face is to his, and how close it will be by the end of the game. He tries his best to remain unmoved and maintain eye contact with you, but he can't stop the blush from appearing on his face.

When there's only one bite left, he stops so you can take the last one and decide whether the kiss happens or not.

If you do, you will feel the tension in his lips, but he will not break the kiss. And if you don't do it either, it will start to relax and deepen it. The tension turns into a smile and you feel his hands cupping your face.

Jade doesn't recognize the name of the game, and asks you if you could explain to him how to play and what it consists of. He recognizes the description as the land version of a game that also exists under the sea.

“Ah yes, I believe I understood how this game works.” Then he gives you that deceptive smile he does when his true intentions are suspicious but hard to tell. “And you chose me to play it with you? Well, I'm honored. I'm more than eager to partake in this land activity with you of all people.”

You are the first one to put the biscuit stick in your mouth. He follows you with a calm smile. But the eyes, they're focused on yours, intensely.

He follows the instructions you explained at the beginning, imperturbably, as if he were truly just following the rules of a simple game. But that was just what he showed. From the look in his eyes you could tell there was much more behind this behaviour.

He always shows himself so passive that it almost came as a surprise to you when he took the last bite like an attacked to kiss you. But his eyes weren't completely closed, just half closed. As if he was observing you and studying you while enjoying the kiss.

And when you start to deepen the kiss, he pulls away, with a charming and dangerous smirk on his face. “It seems that we ended the game in a draw. That is not usually a very exciting outcome, is it. Perhaps we should play another round. And perhaps... make up some new rules of our own. Wouldn't that be interesting?”

Floyd doesn't recognize the game by the name you said, but if your description makes it seem fun in some way, he'll agree to play with you. The problem is that it seems boring to him. It's just eating a cookie. What's so special about that?

You decide to reveal to him that the real reason people play it is to get a kiss from their crush at the end. This makes him smile mischievously. “Aaaah~ So that's why you want to play with me, isn't it Koebi-chan~?” The smile becomes cute. “And what is my reward if I play?”

You say if he doesn't want to kiss you he can just not play. And he sulks. “Ehh? That's not what I said. I want to know what I gain by playing.” He smirks. “Because I don't need to play to get a kiss, do I?” He pauses for a moment to appreciate your reaction. His cute smile returns. “Ah! I know, why don't you give me the box of biscuit stick as payment?” And then he says in that deep voice through the sinister smile. “You're not going to play with anyone else, are you?”

If you accept he'll be like ‘YAY. Let's play then! :3’. You are the one who puts the biscuit stick in the mouth first and he follows with a relaxed look and smile. He follows the rules like you said, but it seems like he's more focused on you than the stick, as if he was amused watching your movements and reactions.

He leaves the last bite for you, watching you with mischievous eyes and an amused smile. If you take the last bite and kiss him, he won't move, not even return the kiss, to see how long you can hold out like that.

When you break the kiss disappointed he will say with a smirk: “Aww, Why so sad? Wasn't it the win you wanted? I told you the game was boring.” He takes the box from your hand, and he wraps an arm around you to pull you close to him. “Now if you still want to make out, you should just do it you know? I'm in the mood so don't waste it.”

Kalim doesn't know what game it is but he accepts any invitation to play anything. He's like: “Of course I'll play with you! Hum... what game is that again?” And after you explain he will say with his big enthusiastic smile: “Sounds fun! I know I can't accept food from other people, but it's you, even Jamil says it's okay accepting things from you. So how do we start?”

You are the one who puts the biscuit stick in your mouth and points it to the other end for Kalim to bite. He does so with a cute, innocent smile.

He seems to be having fun playing. When there is only one bite left to finish the game, it is his turn, and he ends the game giving you an extremely loving kiss. Like a smooch.

He breaks the kiss with a huge happy smile on his face. “Ha ha! This is fun! Can we play again?”

He will make you play with him until the box is empty. And when he asks to play again and you say that the cookies are gone, he will say: “Ow, I was having so much fun. You too? That's great! We should buy more. I'll pay for all of them.”

When you go to the Mystery Shop to buy more and Kalim discovers that there are several flavours, he will buy ALL OF THEM! All of the ones that Sam has? Yes, because Sam, somehow and at that moment, has ALL OF THEM THAT EXIST!

Jamil knows the game because he's heard of it, If not from schoolmates, then from his sister or something. “Isn't that the game where two people eat a biscuit stick to kiss at the end?” He says this with a neutral face, but then he makes that smug face, with one eyebrow raised. “And you want to play it with me? *chuckle* Fine. I don't see why not. I just have one question: Will you allow me to finish the game however I want?”

You say that as long as you follow the basic rules, he can end the game however he wants. “In that case, don't forget that you were the one who allowed it.” He says.

You put the biscuit stick in your mouth, but before he bites the other side, he puts a finger on your chin to tilt it a little and only then bites the biscuit stick.

He plays the whole game with that cocky smile. This is one of those rare moments where he lets his cheeky side show.

When there's only one bite left, he lets you decide how the game ends. The moment you touch your lips to his he will grab you and pull you towards him to deepen the kiss in the blink of an eye. Like a snake biting its prey in a single moment.

And then, he breaks the kiss, licking his lips, and still with his arms around your waist. “You're the one who said I could end it however I wanted as long as I followed the rules.” He says with a smirk and brings his lips closer to your ear. “I hope you haven't regret it.”

Yes, Vil knows this game. There was a time when it became very popular and he usually keeps up with those trends. Especially because sometimes they are incorporated into teen shows. “If I ever participated in one of those scene? No. No offence to the genre but I prefer to participate in films and genres that are less... melodramatic. That and IF I were cast in one of those shows there would be little chance of me getting the love interest role. I am perfectly aware that I’m more of a ‘mean girl’ type.” He says with a certain pride in both his voice and his face.

“And you want to play it with me?” He smirks charmingly. “My dear, you and probably all my fans. I hope you know that if I accept, firstly what a privilege and honor it is, and secondly, that this must remain between us. *chuckle* Well, if you understand that, then perhaps I can give you that pleasure.”

He lets you be the first to put the biscuit stick in your mouth and extend the other side to him, inviting him to bite. He does so with elegance and as if he were following some kind of etiquette for that game that you didn't even know could exist. That and he even places his index finger and thumb on your chin to adjust your posture while playing.

When there's only one bite left, it's his turn. He closes his eyes and kisses you gently and delicately. He'll stay like that for a second before breaking the kiss, and lovely looking at you with a soft smile.

“I must admit it was more satisfying than I expected. Thank you for inviting me to play. I shall be the one inviting you next time.”

Epel's never heard of that game, mostly because he's never been interested in that kind of stuff. So you explain it to him. But he doesn't quite understand why that would be fun. “So two people eat a biscuit stick from each side until someone pull away? But what if no one pull away-... wait... Don't tell me the goal is to kiss at the end!?”

When you confirm, his surprised expression begins to turn red. “A-and you want to play it... WITH ME?! No, it's not that I don't want to. I mean...! Hum... you just caught me off guard. But... yes, I... would like to play with you too.” He ends up agreeing with a sweet smile.

He starts playing a little shyly, but as you two take bites he starts to see it as a real game and his competitive side gives him confidence. So much so that when the last bite arrives and he takes it, kissing you, he only realizes it too late.

He quickly pulls away, blushing profusely! He stumbles over his words as he apologizes, because at the same time he also remembers that that was the intention of the game.

“EH! Wait! This is what you wanted, isn't it? Why am I apologizing? Oi! Are you laughing at me? Fine! Let's play again!” He gives you that confident smirk. “And this time, I'm not pulling away! I'm warning you!”

The second time you play he is definitely more confident. And he keeps his word, as soon as you kiss again, he doesn't pull away. His lips start out tense, but they relax as he forgets about the game and enjoys the kiss.

Of course Rook knows this game! A fun excuse for two lovebirds to kiss? How would he not know something like that? “Oh, and would you like me to have the honor of being your playmate? Mais bien sûr, Trickster! It will be my greatest pleasure.” He smiles enthusiastically.

“May I have the honours?” He asks, holding out his hand for you to hand him the box. He takes one of the biscuit stick and puts it in his mouth, inviting you to bite the other side and start the game.

He plays with a big “innocent” smile on his face. But eventually, as your faces get closer, his eyes change to that hunter's gaze.

When there's only one bite left for your lips to meet, he stops and lets you decide whether to take the last bite or pull away, while he fixes his intense gaze on you, observing you. Yes, he likes to hunt, but part of hunting is also setting traps and waiting for the prey to fall into them.

If you finish the game and kiss him, you will feel the smile he already had grow and the kiss becoming sweeter and more passionate. His hands cupping your face, him bringing his body closer to yours, and then one of the hands slowly leaving your face to end at your lower back.

When he finally releases your lips, he's looking at you with desire. “Très bien Trickster. Your lips are sweeter than the chocolate in the biscuit stick.” He brings his lips closer to yours again. “And now, I so ache to taste that mixture of flavours again. Would you allow me to play this once more with you? There are some sensations I would like to introduce you to, as a token of my gratitude.”

Ooh, Idia knows very well what game you are talking about. Probably for the same reasons that you know it too. “Do you think you're in an Otome game or something?” He mocks you with that smug smile. “And even if you wanted to live that fantasy, why me?” he sulks. ”Do you think I would be the only one to fall for this ‘cause of the games I play? That's a bit mean, don't you think? Or did the association of one thing with the other make you feel pity for me? I'm sure any student with good taste would love to play this with you, you don't need to invite me just because no one would do it with me.”

You tell him, in the form of a scolding, that you want to play with HIM! Not out of pity, but because you like him. And maybe, just maybe, you expressed it quite bluntly because of the adrenaline of being upset with him at the moment.

“Y-y-you like me?! C'mon, why would you?” You two continue to argue until he says something like: “FINE! I'll play with you, but when you lose because you pull away at the first bite, don't blame me.”

He's the one who reaches into the box and takes out a biscuit stick to put in his mouth and points the other end at you with an almost annoyed look on his face. Which looks more like a pout.

You take a bite, he takes another and so on. As your faces get closer, to your surprise, he seems to become more confident. Do you really want to play? He'll show you how a game is won! The heat of competitiveness escalates because of the dangerous mix of stubbornness of the two involved.

When there's only one bite left, it's his turn, and he's already so heated up by the game that he finishes it as if he were making the final strick. Turning your kiss into a surprisingly passionate attack.

But only for a second, until he opened his eyes in disbelief and immediately pulled away with his hair bursting pink, and the paleness of his face contrasting with his blush.

“I-I-I warned you!” He sees you smiling, and his smugness strikes with full force. “Oh! So you weren't just baiting, you really wanted it. Fine then. Next round! And this time I'm not going to chicken out in victory, you hear?”

Malleus is already beaming with joy that you invited him to something. The fact that it's a game only makes him even more excited. Even though he has no idea what game that is. You just explain the rules, that two people eat the same biscuit stick until someone pulls away and that person loses.

“I see. It seems like a simple game to play. But what happens if neither player pulls away?” You decide to respond with: ‘Why don't we play to find out?’ He laughs ans smirks. “Fearless as ever, Child of Man. Are you truly not concerned about what might happen if you withhold information from me? Fu fu. Very well. We shall see how our game ends.”

You put the biscuit stick in your mouth and point the other side at him for him to bite. He does it with a loving smile, and tries to take bites the same size as yours. He doesn't want to cheat without knowing it.

When there's only one bite left to finish, he stops, not knowing what to do. So you're the one who ends the game and kisses him.

He is surprised, but doesn't break the kiss, instead he maintains it and deepens it. He carefully puts his arms around you to bring you even closer to him. And then brings one of his hands to your cheek. You can feel him controlling his strength to make sure he doesn't hurt you, even though he wants to hug you tighter.

He breaks the kiss unexpectedly. “I am not hurting you, am I?” He asks slightly concerned. “I am learning to control my strength, but I am afraid I might run the risk of burning you with my breathe.” You say you weren't feeling hot at all, or at least not that kind. “That is other of my concerns. I may not hurt you at first, but if I let myself be carried away... I am not aware if the same thing happens to you, I hope so, but I feel the need to show you through actions like this how much I'm in love with you and that could be...”

You tell him that just as he learned to control his strength, he can learn to moderate other things. And perhaps the best way to do that is to continue training with you, little by little. Maybe with another round of that game?

Silver doesn't know this game, but if you’re willing to explain it to him he will be happy to play with you. You explain the rules except the part about what happens if neither player pulls away. But Silver doesn't remember to ask either and you start the game as soon as he understands the basic rules.

You put the biscuit stick in your mouth and point to the other end for him to bite. He does so and plays as you had explained to him, taking a bite whenever it is his turn. His expression remains the same throughout the game... as always.

When there is only one bite left he stops, confused about what he should do and looks at you, or rather, into your eyes, looking for a hint or something like that. And you decide to be the one to end the game and kiss him.

He is surprised, but does not pull away. He just stays like that the whole time you do. Even though his lips are relaxed, it's as if he simply accepts it and does you the favor of staying there.

You're the one who has to break the kiss, probably disappointed that it seems like he didn't reciprocate.

“What's wrong?” He asks, with the same neutral face as always. “You look sad. Did I do something wrong while playing?” You explain to him, in your own way, that it seemed like the kiss was nothing to him, but he didn't pull away either, so you were confused.

“I failed to express myself again.” He says, now with a slightly disappointed expression. “I'm sorry. I... really enjoyed it.” He smiles for a second and then goes back to being disappointed with himself. “But I didn't know what to do, so I just... let you lead, I think. I understand now that I should have taken some kind of initiative. We could play again if you could give me a second chance? Would you be willing to tutor me in how to express myself to you through a kiss?” He smiles at you again. “I would be very grateful.”

Sebek doesn't even know what game you're talking about and he's already complaining about you wanting to play a silly game with him. But fine, he lets you at least explain the game and the rules.

“Just as I thought, a foolish human game. And it is not even productive as a sport to train the body or an intellectual one to train the brain. Why would I waste something as precious as time playing something like that with you? The game is simply two people eating a biscuit to see who can finish it the fastest. FOOLISH!”

You opened your mouth to correct him and say that that wasn't really the goal, but thinking about it, maybe it was a fun way to convince him to play. So you choose to insinuate that he is so slow at eating that he wouldn't be able to beat a mere human in such a competition.

“WHAT?! You believe you're up to my standards in any kind of physical competition? HA! That's what we're going to see, human.” He says smugly. “Pass me one of those biscuit stick, if you please.”

He's the first one to put the biscuit in his mouth, and he even crosses his arms looking at you with a defiant and cocky look.

You start playing, and quickly, without him noticing in time, he kisses you. But only for like half a second before pulling away in the blink of an eye. “AH! YOU DECEIVED ME!” He says with a serious and offended look but a blush on his face. “This is not a game, it's a trap! AND I FELL FOR IT!”

You ask if he didn't like it, and his blush only deepens. “Th-those weren't my words! Do not distort my speech!” So you ask, with a smirk, if he would play with you one more time. “Very well! We shall play again.” He smirks too. “ And this time I will not pull away! Be warned, human!”

As incredible as it may seem, Lilia doesn't know this game well, but he has heard of it. This is a recent thing for very young people, and as that phase of his life had already passed and Silver was never interested in those things, he ended up never having the opportunity to get to know the game.

You see his eyes light up with amusement and interest as you explain the game. “Khee hee hee, sounds like a simple but fun game.” Then, he smirk with a sly look. “I wonder what happens if neither of us pulls away. I assume you were inviting me to play because you are also interested in finding out? Fu fu. Let's play then. Will you do the honours?”

You put the biscuit stick in your mouth and Lilia bites the other side. He plays with a cute expression rather than a smug one, probably to make you more comfortable and confident playing. His red gaze can be too penetrating, at least for the first round of the game.

When there is only one bite left to finish, he stops, even if it’s his turn. He wants you to be the one to decide how the game ends.

You take the last bite and kiss him. And now you can feel from his lips that his cute expression has given way to smugness again. He cups your face and deepens the kiss. He is surprisingly (or not) very skilful, so much so that if the kiss were a dance he would certainly be the one guiding it.

And he's the one who breaks the kiss, gently, and gives you a cute smile. “I know I'm irresistible, but let us save some energy for the next rounds, shall we? How many biscuit stick are in the box?”

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

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strawbairicake · 14 days ago

Text

stealin’ sweet kisses- various hsr characters x reader

synopsis: playing the pocky game with your boyfriend! that’s it, send tweet. part 2!

warnings: uh, none? other than that, idk if my beginner/novice writing counts as a warning.

word count: 1.4k (oh lord, it’s longer than part 1!)

author’s note: part 1 did pretty well, so here's part 2 no one asked for! i’ll link part 1 here! no beta, we die like my favorite side characters in books! posting this after having a mental breakdown sure is the way to go, huh! disclaimer in part 1 that i'll include here: i genuinely don't know how to write kiss scenes at all! other than like a peck on the lips, but hey, it’s the thought that counts, right… right? title was a suggestion from a mootie of mine for part 1, credits to them for the title (credits to you, Sage, lol!)! hope you enjoy! <3

tagging: @axolotsofluv, @sqgeism, @vyyper, @your-sleeparalysisdem0n, @cmiru, @unriding, @sheyfu, @threnodians. @strwbrydreamz, @chokifandom, @sillyseraphie, @riaruu, + @m1ckeyb3rry! lmk if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

Anaxa:

how you managed to get your lover to agree to this is beyond you. you just slid the box across his desk, then retreated to the cute reading nook in the home office. Anaxa gave you a skeptical look before sighing and making his way over to you. he sits on the ottoman your legs were resting on and he hands you a stick of pocky.

“you wanted me to indulge in a game? fine. but make it quick, i have things to do.” he says as he rubs shapes on your thighs near your knees. yeah, he totally does not have the time to indulge you. what a loser (lovingly). but upon seeing the smile appear on your face after his confirmation, he thinks he’ll be sparing more time with you than he should. (he brought the whole box when he made his way over to you, by the way. he’s definitely whipped.)

so you sat up in your chair, took the stick of pocky from his hand, and waited for him to be ready. he looked… nervous? the great Anaxagoras, reduced to a slightly blushing mess and slightly fidgety. the whole time you had been watching him, he was fidgeting with the box of pocky, and clearly avoiding eye contact with you. no matter, it’s whatever. you gesture him with a wave of your hand to come closer, and he sets the box of sweet treats next to him. part of the sweet treat he’s able to taste and as you lean closer, Anaxa cannot bring himself to look at you at all. you’d think for all his bravado he’d be able to do something as simple as holding eye contact but no. and as the stick breaks right in the middle, before either one of you can pull away, he cradles the back of your head with a hand and initiates a kiss. short and sweet before pulling away. now both of you look rather flustered.

best to play the game again, no?

Argenti:

your lover agreed with no resistance and no questions asked... mostly! he seems rather excited to play this silly game with you, bless him. so here you both are, sitting in the living room of your home. a rare moment for Argenti to be with you given how often he travels. he leaves tomorrow, unfortunately, but you thought playing pocky with him could be a fun ritual you start doing the night before he leaves. granted, it makes it harder for Argenti to leave you in the morning, but seeing how giddy and happy it makes you both makes it worth it. so here you were on your sofa, a box of pocky in your hand as you explain (again, it’s been a while!) the rules of the game.

“so the point is to get as close to the middle of the stick and not break it. we're supposed to kiss, i think,” you explained.

“so what happens if i break it?” he questions.

“you eat it, and we try again!” you reply excitedly.

let the game begin.

dear aeons, you never realized how good Argenti was at this game. he’s locked in, keeping eye contact, and being very sweet. if he senses you getting nervous, he breaks the stick off and waits for you to compose yourself before returning. and bless him, he’s so sweet and patient, that’s gotta mean something, right?

so after you break the stick for the first time, before you lean back and can escape, he kisses you. nothing rough or mean, almost as light as a peck, but it’s just a bit more. right as you begin to reciprocate, he pulls away, leaving you wanting more.

you know the game he’s playing, and you can see the slightly mischievous glint in his eyes as he looks at you.

“one more time, beloved?”

Boothill:

always on the run, you both are. always getting into some kind of trouble. except this time, the trouble in question is a game of pocky and doesn’t seemingly have any consequences. which is good, you both need a break from the run and chase you’re constantly on. now that you think about it, maybe being in an alleyway in penacony wasn’t your brightest move. anyone could see you both and report you. not that common folk would, but people who know about you and Boothill might. just a hunch. but you were in a dark alleyway, Boothill leaning against the wall, his legs spread just a bit, and you were standing in between his legs, just chatting. and Boothill was trying so hard to pay attention, but he noticed the box of pocky in your pocket.

“what’s the box for, sweetheart?”

“boredom, mostly… also i need sugar.”

“don’t know how ya’d need it if we’re on the run. and i'll give ya some sugar,” he winked. you rolled your eyes at the latter comment.

“i mean for after the adrenaline wears off…” you mutter. your lover chuckles at the faux pout you started making after your previous statement. he places a hand on your hip and fishes through your pocket and gets the box of pocky out.

“up for a little game?”

“Boothill, we're literally supposed to be running right now,” you deadpan. he laughs.

“you don’t know how to have fun, sweetheart! just one round, i promise,” he replies.

and so the game begun. he pulls a stick out of the pack and places one part in his mouth and you place the other part in your mouth. as you inch closer, one of Boothill’s hands remains at your hip while the other one rests on the back of your neck. the cool metal of his arm makes you tilt your head up impossibly more. you reach the middle of the stick and instead of a quick peck, it’s a passionate kiss. he cradles your head so you can’t let go just yet, and he notices you’re quite ready to let go either. give or take a few seconds, you tap his robotic chest with your finger, a sign to let you breathe. you both part. the tips of his ears are a bit pink and you look a bit flushed. you’re just about to get comfortable in the silence you both have before hearing a loud “freeze!” which makes you both turn your heads.

guess you’re back on the run.

Mydei:

a rough mission kinda brought you down. and sometimes when you’re down, you’ll head to the marketplace in Okhema just to see if anything interesting is there. and wouldn’t you know it, a seller was giving out a box of pocky with every purchase! you bought a couple of baking ingredients and got your free box of pocky, and honestly? made your bad day a lot better, which was really nice. so when you got home and saw Mydei on the couch in the living room on his teleslate (literally it’s a phone, why do they call it that, ew), you thought nothing of it. you head to the kitchen and unload the few baking supplies you purchased: sugar and flour. it wasn’t a lot, and you didn’t need help putting it away. you knew that Mydei would come and help you put the couple of groceries away anyway (he always did, it was an unspoken agreement between the two of you for whatever reason.). so after you unload the flour and sugar, you sit on the counter and open the box of pocky you got. it was your favorite flavor too, how nice! as you do, Mydei comes in between your legs and watches as you fiddle with the box and bag inside. he wordlessly takes the bag from your hands, opens it, and pulls a stick out.

“what is this for?” he looks skeptically at the flavored treat, which makes you laugh slightly.

“you take one portion of the stick in your mouth, your partner does the same. then you essentially get as close as you can without breaking the stick. the goal is to kiss, i think. but i also eat this by myself,” you reply after a moment’s hesitation.

and without instruction, Mydei places part of the stick he took out into his mouth and gestures for you to do the same. so you do, you’re not an idiot to refuse him, especially if he’s offering! you both lean in and while the stick breaks pretty close to the middle, Mydei doesn’t pull away. he kisses you briefly before pulling away. he looks at you and smirks a bit.

“wanna try again, or are you going to quit? i thought the goal was to not break it.”

oh it’s SO on now.

#airi writes #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #anaxa x reader #argenti x reader #boothill x reader #mydei x reader

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ssivinee · 3 days ago

Text

「 Timeline 」

b. manon x f reader ! ✎𓂃 Ever since you were young, you have begun to plan your life for success. somewhat even obsessed with the idea that led you to being unintentionally self-centered at times. You believed your plans were coming to fruition... when Manon decides to throw your entire timeline off.

word count ! 18.5 k

tags ! cheater manon, virgin reader, mirror sex, a bit of degradation, dom reader, tiny praising kink, reader being confused SO much.

author's note ! you guys are literally insane. THANK YOU FOR THE 1K FOLLOWERS. it literally almost makes me wanna cry. but in celebration, im giving yall another long katseye smut.

ehem i will be doing my reqs after this so everyone BARE WITH ME PLS AND TY!

Working in the corporate scene had always been your life goal. It was eye-opening to realize that some of the jobs you once dreamed of wouldn’t have provided a stable income. Especially since you were the kind of person who planned out your entire life before it even truly began.

From a young age, you carried this almost narcissistic belief that you were destined for more—an idea born from growing up in a middle-class family surrounded by people you considered painfully average. You were seven when ambition first took place, and you never let it go ever since.

You remembered living in an old modern house, playing soccer as an after-school activity, and watching how often your mom and dad worked. At first, you believed that anyone who worked hard was destined for success. But over time, you learned it wasn’t that simple. When your parents returned home at ungodly hours, their arguments about money and time were heard through the walls of the house.

One particular fight ended with your father slamming the front door and heading out for a late-night drive to clear his head. That night, you started thinking about what success really meant and how to attain it. There were so many variables like education, finances, and even luck. But what if you didn’t have luck… how could you build a future without relying on something not everyone had?

While your parents worked their night shifts, you began journaling every idea, every goal, every backup plan, all within your childhood bedroom.

You had always been gifted with numbers, so you figured that a career in accounting would be a good career to look into. By the time you reached high school, you spent every summer interning at various companies. It was taxing for a teenager, but you figured if you couldn’t handle it now, you wouldn’t survive whatever you planned for college, so you pushed through.

During your first two years of university, you focused entirely on finishing as many classes as possible. At the same time, you took a job as a remote financial analyst, balancing work and school to keep progressing at a good pace.

You even poured everything into finishing four years of education in just two. Once you graduated, you worked multiple jobs until, at twenty-four, you finally had the proper resume to apply for an opening at a telecommunications company called Zuno.

Using the smartass brain of yours, you assessed the company’s future potential and determined the odds were in your favor. You applied for an internal auditor position and figured that climbing the corporate ladder would be easy enough.

Turns out, you were right since, by twenty-five, you’d been promoted to Head of Financial Planning and Analysis. The new position allowed you to pay off your parents’ bills and mortgage, purchase your own loft in the city, and be financially stable for a very long time.

You were perfectly on track with your ‘perfect’ timeline, but that was until you weren’t. The next step would’ve been becoming CFO, but with your age and experience, it was now all about the waiting game. You’d need a few more years before you could realistically take over your boss’s position.

The problem was, this well-thought-out plan hadn’t accounted for the momentum to pause. And now that you were facing it, the thought made you sick. Life had been too smooth for you to accept this kind of dilemma.

But that wasn’t something you could dwell on now, especially not while sitting in the conference room, furiously typing away on your laptop.

“What’s the budget, forecast, analysis, and planning for the upcoming project?” asked Gary Dinapoli, your CFO. He addressed his entire team, but you knew the question was mostly for you, like usual.

“For Project Sierra,” you began confidently, “the current working budget is estimated at $27.3 million, with a ten percent buffer. Of that, roughly 42% is for the infrastructure and network expansion in Tier 2 markets, 31% to product innovation and internal R&D, and the rest split between marketing, onboarding, and operational overhead.”

The room grew quieter as a few heads turned in your direction. You continued in a steady tone, “Forecasts for Quarter three show a projected 14.6% increase in user acquisition if launch dates hold and marketing sticks to the current schedule. Momentum from Project Romeo exceeded ROI expectations by 23% last quarter, bringing in $11.2 million above initial statistics.”

Gary raised an eyebrow, but you continued, “Analysis of customer behavior over the last six months shows a 19% uptick in cross-platform engagement. Based on trajectory, we can expect net revenue impact to peak by mid-fourth quarter with breakeven happening around month five, possibly sooner with the right moves.”

You finally glanced up from your laptop, locking eyes with Gary. “As for planning,” you added, “we’re currently finalizing phase timelines with cross-functional leads. Finance-wise, I’ve already mapped out cash flow pacing to avoid strain, and risk assessments are clean unless the market peaks unexpectedly.”

It was silent for a second, until Gary let out an impressed, loud exhale through his nose. “Right,” he said, nodding slowly. “Guess I don’t need to ask if you’re ahead of schedule.”

You just offered a faint smile, fingers already typing again.

Before he could end the meeting, you heard another voice speak up from the opposite end of the room.

“Well, some of that’s just projection,” Chase said, casually adjusting his cufflinks. “Market response isn’t guaranteed, especially when user behavior fluctuates from time to time. We saw the same thing with Romeo before you adjusted your forecast.”

Chase always had a habit of inserting himself when he didn’t feel seen, which, to his disdain, was often. He’s five years older than you, has been in the company longer, and was your competition for your current position.

The keyword is ‘was’ because getting the position before him wasn’t something he got over, even after a year since the announcement.

Gary didn’t even bother turning his head to the man, just keeping his eyes on the papers instead, “Yes, Chase. And I read your report this morning. Everything she just said? Already in it—just with fewer run-on sentences.”

A few coworkers stifled a laugh, but you stayed quiet. Glancing at the older man, who looked embarrassed at the boss's words, you could only shake your head at the sight. Gary turned his attention back to you, “Finish up your work by four,” he said. “Then head upstairs to his office at five and give him a report, please.”

You give Gary a tight-lipped smile at his kind tone as he dismisses everyone. Going to the thirty-eighth floor, you waited with coffee in hand to go to your own office. Having your own space also kept you ahead of schedule, so the promotion was a blessing, not only for your path in life but for the sake of your mental health as well.

Gary spoke of him as if he were the biggest secret of the business, but that was only because he didn’t always get along with the CEO. Marcos Gosse, the founder and CEO of the company.

You could sit in your office every single day, thinking why the two didn’t get along, but you didn’t understand it, as both are kind men. Marcos was one of the youngest CEO’s you were even aware of, standing at the same age as you. He’s an intelligent man who treated his employees well.

Maybe Gary was jealous?

You shook your head, not liking to assume anything unless they were backed up with any kind of evidence. Now heading into your office, the cool air hit the sleeves of your black portefino shirt once you opened the door.

Settling into your chair, you take another sip of the coffee as you set the silver laptop on the surface of the glass desk. Then, staring at the standing whiteboard which had multiple check marks on it, all the work needing to be done today was seemingly finished even before the meeting you just had. All you had to do was sit and wait until five.

Which meant an annoying hour and twenty minutes of nothing to do. So instead of lounging around, you took out the thick notebook from your leather briefcase-shaped bag. Taking a red pen from the black pencil holder on your desk, you open the book and begin writing the plans for this month.

While writing down a bunch of meetings, deadlines, and events, another woman exited the elevator. She took in the large buildings, giving herself an unofficial tour of the place as she took it into her own hands.

Every employee heard her expensive heels clacking down the hallway, most of the rooms sectioned off by large walls of oak wood that seemed to be painted in a dark stain. She hums, impressed with the modern look of the space, while others stare at her as she struts to the opposite end of the building.

She begins reading the plaque of each room, seeing that she has found people in higher positions in the department. Through a big enough window, she finds Gary, who seems to be taking a phone call.

He catches a glimpse of the woman, giving a kind smile and a wave. They had met the week prior during a meeting Marco had prepared. She knew the older man didn’t have the best relationship with her husband, but Gary looked like a cuddly bear in her eyes, which made her love him.

Next, she walked over to the room beside Gary’s to find the plaque engraved with ‘Head of Financial Planning and Analysis’ and ‘Y/n L/n,’ right below it. She looks into the room through the glass, not showing her complete face, where she finds you deep in your notebook.

She watched as your gaze moved to a phone, then you wrote swiftly with your red pen. Your glasses hung from the bridge of your nose, sliding down due to looking down at the paper. So engrossed, you didn’t even notice her staring at you.

Instead of seeming like a creep to the rest of the workers on the floor, she decides to take her leave to the top floor, where she would hang around until the night ends. Luckily, the hour went by quickly, and you had time to grab a snack from the breakroom. After storing your laptop and notebook back in your bag, you bring them with you and enter the room that smells like food.

You stand in front of the vending machine, thinking a small Rice Krispies treat would help your stomach since you would be home right after giving your report. As you pay with your phone, the snack drops, and you unwrap it to eat.

“I must have to worst luck to see you everywhere,” You hear Chase’s annoying voice say, and you take a bite out of the snack, giving him a smile along with it. “Still salty, old man?”

“It’s been a year, and yours still hanging onto that grudge of yours,” You tease while still munching on the treat as he quickly looks angry. “That position should be MINE!”

You shake your head, tapping your finger on your hip as you throw away your garbage and swallow the last piece. “You mean ‘that should have been my position.’ C’mon now, Chase. Proper grammar, please,” you told him while taking your leave to the upper floor, and heard him growl.

It may not be apart of your life plan, but pissing off the older man always made your day go by smoother.

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime as you stepped in from the 38th floor, pressing the button that led to the 40th. As the doors slid shut, the sound of the elevator filled the silence, giving you a moment to roll your shoulders back without the bustling office ringing in your ears. The upper levels of the building were always quieter, and you already wished your office was up there.

When the doors opened again, all you could still hear was the silence that took over the entire floor. Due to the floor having higher representatives and a large empty meeting room, everyone stayed quiet in their own offices.

You walked all the way to the end, the room being blocked off by towering, dark wooden doors. Then, knocking twice as you waited for the okay to enter, and it didn’t take long for a voice to come through.

“Come in.” Pushing the door open, you were met with the scent of leather and lemon, likely due to the candle that was evidently lit up on the desk. Marcos stood from behind the table, smoothing down his suit jacket that had gotten wrinkled from the whole day of sitting, and he had an easygoing smile that he always greeted you with.

“There’s my genius numbers machine,” he said jokingly, then motioned for you to sit. “How’ve you been?” You sat down, crossing one leg over the other as you offered him a polite smile. “Same as always, just trying to make sure Chase doesn’t bark up a storm.”

Marcos chuckled, “I told you, he was going to throw a fit after today's meeting. But hey, you always handle him best.” He leaned on the desk now after taking a seat, his back resting on his large office chair. “Tell me—did you ever get that Chrysler you kept going on about?”

You let out a small laugh through your nose, “I did, it’s all black.” He grinned widely, nodding in approval. “Nice. You’ve got good taste.” He always talked to you all friendly, like he wasn’t your boss. You took it up with being the same age as him, and he probably needed a friend who wouldn't judge him for how young he is.

From your bag, you pulled out the prepared papers and slid them across the desk. Marcos took it, his fingers flipping through the first few pages scanning through them as he trusted your work. You gave him a quick rundown, saving him the time.

“Budget for Project Sierra is good to go, no unexpected adjustments since Monday. Analysis is clean, and planning is already syncing with the other companies for a greenlight deployment. Phase one’s basically ready.”

He nodded along, halfway through a skim of a page. “I’ll dig into the rest later tonight—” A knock interrupted him. His gaze shifted to the door, a bit confused about who it might be. “Come in.”

The door opened smoothly, and in stepped a woman who literally looked as confident as she walked. Her hair was styled into a straight, sleek ponytail cascading down her back with not a single hair out of place. She wore pointed, glossy red heels with a black sleeveless midi sheath dress that had a square neckline and cut off right below her knees.

You didn’t know who she was, but you glanced over your shoulder, and for a second, your eyes locked with hers.

She looked quite expensive, all you could even tell yourself that. But other than that, you didn’t pay much attention to her, as she dressed like many of the higher representative women in Zuno.

Marcos stood from his chair again, gesturing between the two of you with that usual soft-spoken tone of his. “Ah—perfect timing,” he said. “This is Manon. My fiancée.”

You only blinked as you stood up slowly, brushing your pants down before reaching out your hand. “Nice to meet you,” you said coolly, offering a firm shake. Her fingers curled around yours in return, and you noticed how soft and small her hand felt as they wrapped around yours.

“Likewise,” she answered with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. ‘It’s only a marriage contract,’ she told herself over and over again. But she wasn’t about to say that out loud, because why would she?

Manon had met Marcos about six months ago. A lunch gathering between industry executives and family shareholders introduced them, and things moved fast once her parents got to know him for a bit. Two months after the first meeting, both of them signed the paperwork. It was only a marriage and company transaction that would favor the two.

Manon did try to fight it, lord knows she didn’t want to deal with anything of this sort since she had only turned 23. Yet there seemed to be no way out once her parents set their minds on it.

Her father was the CEO of Bannerman Studios, one of the biggest production companies in the industry, and the engagement would be a headline-worthy topic in the business circuit.

But despite the perks and polished smiles, Marcos didn’t excite her. He was genuinely sweet, the kind of man who always held doors open and asked if she’d eaten. He even sent fresh flowers to her place every week, left handwritten notes when he traveled for work, and never raised his voice, like ever.

It should have been perfect, and granted, it was. But Manon wasn’t the type of woman who liked to be perfect. She liked chaos, stupid decisions, and risks. She liked the feeling of freedom, the excitement of anything that left any person breathless. Basically, anything that involved trouble, Manon loved and gravitated towards.

And right now?

She was staring at you. You were taller than her, looked composed, clean, and smart, which wasn’t something that would usually excite her. Your long hair was twisted back into a claw clip, some strands framing your face. You wore navy blue wide-leg tailored pants, stood in black heels, and a white button-up tucked in perfectly, looking like everything fit to a tee and showed off your figure.

Manon didn’t say anything else, and it wasn’t like she could. Everything she thought about you could’ve been considered infidelity even if she wasn’t, yet, married to Marcos.

She could just swoon for you, and in that little wild corner of her mind, you looked like the kind of woman who might surprise her with entertainment. And since her contract signing four months ago, this seems to be the moment she has been waiting for.

“I should take my leave, need to cook up some dinner,” you told your boss, and he gave you a kurt nod. “It was nice to meet you, Manon,” you say out of common courtesy. Her gaze couldn’t even leave your face when she told you, “It was so nice meeting you as well.”

There was something in the tone of her voice that made you raise an eyebrow before you head out of the office. You shake your head while walking down the hall, believing Manon to be a person who just liked meeting new people.

Yeah… that was it… surely?

It was finally Friday, one of the days that sped up before the weekend. You were finishing up the last of your reports for the day, already mentally clocking out for a normal, uneventful weekend. The next two days would usually just be you, in your loft, chilling while watching some random documentaries throughout the day. You even had a few queued up already—one about a serial killer, another on Amy Winehouse.

Even if you graduated early, you still loved learning, especially if they were things that were on your own terms. Some could say nerdy, you say… nerdy and educational. More knowledge won’t kill anyone.

You were thinking about it as you typed away on your keyboard, until a knock echoed off your office door. You paused mid-type, brows furrowed since you weren’t expecting anyone.

Not even saying anything, the door cracked open, and in walked Manon.

She stepped inside without much of a word, giving the office space a look around, which made you look puzzled. You could tell she was checking to see if anyone was paying attention to her sudden appearance, but everyone was too caught up in doing their work to even care. You heard multiple office phones ringing, people silently replying to emails and research, while others responded to the calls. No one even spared her a glance, which seemed to relieve her.

She then shut the door softly behind her. You leaned back in your chair, eyes narrowing slightly, your confusion not even being hidden at all.

“…Ms. Bannerman?” you asked slowly, the name coming from memory when Marcos had mentioned more about her two days ago, when the topic came up again somehow. But she waved a hand, cutting you off gently. “Just call me Manon.”

You blinked, still not fully understanding the situation, but replied the same way. “Ms. Bannerman.”

She tilted her head slightly, caught off guard at the way you repeated her name instead. She was used to people folding for her and following whatever she told them to do. Who wouldn’t? She was Manon Bannerman, after all.

But you didn’t budge, not one bit, as you sat in your chair just observing her next move. And that earned you a smirk from her.

From behind her back, she revealed a coffee cup and stepped forward. “A peace offering,” she said playfully, leaning slightly across your desk as she handed it over.

Your eyes instinctively flicked down, then back up—very quickly. The velvet maroon dress she had on dipped low in the front, showing off her cleavage, sleeves hugging her arms, and the fabric clung extremely tightly to her frame. She looked expensive yet seductive, which was surely the wrong setting for an outfit like such, while standing in your office and leaning over your desk like it wasn’t a big deal. You noticed the subtle glint of a thin chain bracelet wrapped twice around her wrist, paired with the faintest whiff of jasmine and wood. Her perfume legit just smelled as expensive as she looks.

You took the cup, still unsure. “…Uhm. Okay?” With a hesitant sip, you feel the heat of the coffee first, the sensation being something you were fond of, then some sweetness hits your tongue. It wasn’t bad, sometimes liking sweet things every now and then, but you definitely didn’t prefer your everyday coffee this way.

“It’s a bit sweet, but thanks for the coffee,” you said anyway, in a polite manner. When you looked back up, her mouth had dropped slightly open. “You think that’s sweet? I only asked for two sugars.”

You shrugged. “I usually drink it black.” That made her pause; she should’ve seen it coming. Your demeanor was like the kind of person who liked straight answers… and your coffee plain.

She leaned her weight onto one hip, brow raised, and mumbled under her breath, “How do you prefer your women then…” It was barely audible, and you blinked with a perplexed look on your face. “Sorry—what?”

She straightened up quickly, brushing it off with a light laugh. “Nothing,” she said smoothly, already backing toward the door.

Hand on the knob, she turned over her shoulder one last time. “Have a good day.” You nodded once, still processing what the fuck just happened. “…You too.”

As the door shut behind her, Manon walked past the cubicles of employees and down the hall, heels clicking rapidly as she sped walk.

She needed to think of some way for you to be interested in her, or even just catch your attention, because if someone like you wasn’t easily impressed, she was going to have to figure out a way to do so.

So when entering the elevator and pressing her destination, she just kept thinking and thinking about a plan. When walking into Marcos’ office, Manon didn’t even knock. It would’ve been a waste of time for her.

Ironically, she never did when it came to Marcos' office—he had even grown accustomed to it after she started doing it a month into their contract. However, it still caught him off guard, his head lifting from a thick pile of papers when she entered unannounced.

“Manon,” he greeted, smile kind and voice still that signature softness he gave to everyone.

She didn’t understand why her brain had to operate the way it did. Her parents set her up for greatness with this man, and regardless of what she thought, he was overall a perfect person. Wealthy, sweet, treated people with kindness, funny, and just a friendly guy overall. Yet why were those qualities just not enough for her?

She remembered a few nights ago, when Marcos had taken her to an expensive rooftop restaurant. It was one of those places with a skyline view that everyone posted on Instagram. He talked about stocks and a bit about work before talking about things that could possibly happen for their wedding over steak, and smiled every time she laughed at a joke she didn’t find funny. When he dropped her home, he kissed her forehead goodnight.

…That was it.

A faint trace of embarrassment crept onto her cheeks as she stepped further into the room. She hated how uncollected she felt in that moment—it wasn’t like she was in trouble or anything. Still, she didn’t respond to him, choosing to make her way to the opposite end of his office, in front of his desk, but far away enough, where the couch was placed.

It was in front of the black colored concrete accent wall in his room. The seating arrangement made it comfortable enough that she didn’t feel suffocated despite the corporate space that seemed hectic all the time. Granted, it was still Marcos’ space, so she couldn’t feel super free, but it sufficed for the space that it was. The couch is modern, low, yet wide, with clean ivory leather surrounding it and dark wood framing. A beige concrete drum coffee table was in front of it, fitting into the ‘plain’ modern aesthetic Manon actually despised.

Manon took a seat, crossing a leg over the other as she took a sip of the iced coffee she had bought herself in the process of buying yours.

That look you gave her earlier pretty much stuck in that pretty head of hers. It hadn’t been anything crazy either, just a pause with the piercing gaze of yours, as your brows narrowed ever so slightly while watching her every movement. You were clearly studying her and didn’t even hide it.

You could think that it wouldn’t get any worse, but it did to Manon. When you didn’t look impressed, like at all.

Marcos glanced up again, focused only on her, “Where’d you disappear to? I figured I’d see you before I met with the commercial company.”

Her expression didn’t change as she gave him a nonchalant shrug, “Just went out to get coffee.” It’s all she intended to say, especially since Marcos didn’t ask anything further. He hummed under his breath, giving a nod before glancing back down at the documents he’d been reviewing.

But then, out of nowhere, Manon’s brain seemed unable to help itself. “I bumped into Y/n in the elevator.” So she lied, yet admitted to seeing you… she wanted to smack herself in the head as soon as the word left her mouth. He stopped mid-read, brow raising slightly in curiosity. “Y/n?”

“You mean… my head of FP&A?” he asked, eyes lifting again, this time a bit confused. “She rarely leaves the building unless it’s her lunch break. Maybe she took it late today? She’s clocking out soon anyway, so I guess it’s possible.” He didn’t sound suspicious, just a bit curious about his friend whom he believed he knew well, but that didn’t stop the flicker of panic that jolted through her for a brief moment.

“I’ll ask her about it—”

“No,” she cut in, voice just a little too quick than intended. Marcos paused, pen still in hand, eyes flickering with mild confusion at her tone. She caught the way she sounded and Marcos’ face, faking an airy laugh.

“It was just… a little awkward,” she said, brushing a curl from her perfectly styled hair behind her ear as she leaned back into the sofa. “I don’t think it’s worth bringing up.” He could’ve questioned her, but it seemed like Manon put her acting skills up to the test in the moment. One of the many things being born a Bannerman taught her.

He nodded, the information new to him, “That’s surprising. She’s usually really composed and professional.”

“Exactly,” Manon replied without any hesitation. “Which is probably why it was awkward. I’m kind of the opposite, you know?” Marcos chuckled softly and leaned back in his chair. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

Before he could say anything else, there was a knock on the door, then it eased open. Manon recognized him as Morcos’ assistant, a small-framed man, wearing a collared shirt that wrinkled from how big it was, eyes insanely visible behind his large-rimmed glasses.

“Sir,” he said, voice a little too soft. “The—uh—boardroom’s ready. They’re waiting.”

Marcos sighed quietly, standing from his seat and collecting his papers into a folder. “Right. I’ll be back in an hour.” He rounded his desk, walking over to Manon and giving her a brief peck on the cheek. “Just relax here for a bit, okay? We’ll head out after.”

She nodded and smiled in return, though the moment he left, the smile dropped. Manon Bannerman was a lot of things. Patient was not one of them.

She stood up, pacing a bit before settling back into the couch. Her gaze wandered, drifting over the art, the floating shelves with framed awards on them, the books she doubted anyone ever actually opened, with the dust collecting on them. She sat for another two minutes, legs crossing and uncrossing, fingers tapping against her thigh.

Then her eyes landed on his desktop monitor. With no one else in the room, her intrusive thoughts began running. It was one of the only offices without windows, and she knew that Marcos didn’t turn off his computer unless he was heading out for the night.

Curiosity took over as she waited five more minutes. Just long enough to make sure the coast was really clear. Once she felt enough time had passed, she made her move.

She did her best to be a bit quiet, heels barely clicking against the floor as she made her way behind the desk. The chair was adjusted higher than she preferred, but since she was snooping around, complaining couldn’t so much as she pressed the mouse.

The screen woke instantly, and to her luck, the internal system was open. She assumed there had to be a private company network, and since Marcos was the CEO, it made sense that he’d have access to everything. His employees, projects, and departmental files.

She typed your name in the search bar, and her research didn’t take long. Because as soon as she pressed enter, a file opened in full screen, and your face was the first thing that greeted her.

That same damn face that has her acting a fool. Manon leaned forward, dragging a finger under her chin as she looked closer. ‘Fine as hell’ was the first thought that entered her head.

But as her eyes scanned the contents of your file, she only expected to see a phone number, birthday, emergency contacts, and address, just in case. But she realized this wasn’t just some basic profile—this thing had everything on it.

Your official ID photo and your full resume underneath. Manon didn’t expect anything less from you, seeing the long list of experience and education. She thought it would be creepy of her to see all of this, but she had already committed to all of it at this point. She saw emergency contact information, an address listed, your income details, years of employment, and even certifications.

Not much of the information was useful unless she wanted to be a creep and basically stalk you. It made her a bit hopeless until she scrolled all the way back up, finding notes with dates beside them.

It seemed, Marcos would check these often, noting things down that he had to bring up with his employees. A bulleted line stood out to her, ‘Event planning: discuss finance tracking with Y/n for Q3 Celebration Budget. Have her oversee spend limits during setup and execution.’

It was for a company-wide party. One of those things wealthy people loved to throw to boost morale, PR, and just to ‘celebrate’ the success of their company. Manon liked calling it ‘ego parties’ because these people gathered around to boast about their own success rather than about the company party they were invited to.

You wouldn’t be there as a guest, but as a working and paid employee. Still, a room full of people, music, lights, her in something other than her ‘normal’ clothes… and you somewhere in all of this. Manon believed she wouldn’t get another chance to do something in a long time unless she was willing to wait.

She smirked to herself, slowly spinning the chair just slightly to the left. Catching your attention was officially on her to-do list with this upcoming event.

And she was going to make sure that it was going to go her way. She closed the file, doing her best to leave everything the way Marcos left it, and went back to her seat.

Manon leaned back, arms stretching above the backrests, where she sighed in a relaxing manner. Brewing up a plan in her head, she had to not only seduce you (because she was aware that wasn’t going to work) but find something that interests you to really reel you in.

The next few days were ‘normal’ enough. Manon brought you coffee every other day, not in a pattern, so it didn’t seem super odd to you. If anything, you were grateful at times, since you couldn’t get a second cup of coffee on some days. She even began getting your order done.

One black coffee with one packet of sugar. You rarely ever minded her, and it wasn’t meant to be in a disrespectful way. You had only made one friend in the company, and that’s Marcos. There was no other person, and you’d like to keep it that way.

After minding your business for about two weeks, Manon even began thinking that she was beginning to look like your assistant.

Although doing all of this would surely work in her favor. Because by visiting you every other day, she got to know more about you despite the minimal chatter.

While waiting for the next couple of days, the invitation didn’t need to be extended. She did want to make sure she wasn’t obvious about it. From what she can recall, Manon had been same spot in his office like usual, flipping lazily through a magazine, waiting for him to wrap up his email.

Which meant a lot of reading for him and more waiting for her, but it had become the norm, everything Manon visited. They would get food together throughout the day, and she’d grown used to Marcos’ routine, and she doesn’t have a choice.

After an hour, they exited the elevator toward the private parking area where his car was parked. She adjusted her sunglasses and sighed out a sound, sounding somewhat tired from something.

“I feel like I haven’t gone out in forever,” she said, dramatic enough but also passes off as a casual comment that came to mind. “No party or even wine. I’m getting a little bored with life.”

Marcos, ever sweet and receptive, gave her a glance. “That’s funny,” he replied, already unlocking the car and opening the passenger door for her. “I was actually going to ask if you wanted to go with me to a Celebration. Just a little progression success for the project.”

“Like a rich party kinda thing?” she asked with a tiny tilt of her head, feigning vague interest. “My parents told me you guys throw those like... once a quarter or something.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. I know it sounds corporate and stiff, but it’s going to be at the Astrelle building, the one that’s a few minutes away from here. I asked them to go all out with planning—live music, open bar, the whole thing. I figured we could go together.”

“Well, since you insist,” she replied with a lazy grin, sliding into the passenger seat like she hadn’t been planning this for weeks. “I’ll clear my schedule.”

So that's how she finds herself standing under the luxurious chandeliers of the ballroom. She held a flute of champagne effortlessly between her two fingers. Her posture and face, somewhat relaxed, but deep down, she was on alert.

The venue was breathtaking with its cream colored marble floors beneath everyone's feet, veins looking like they had been dusted with gold. Crystal chandeliers shine with bright lights overhead.

Manon stood near the edge of the room, looking like trouble… in a good way. Her gown was a deep midnight blue, almost tricking the eye to see black until the light hit it just right. A floor-length sheath cut that followed every curve, hugging her body. A slit ran high up her left leg, stopping just below the hip with a perfectly angled hem, it was sexy without exposing too much.

The neckline dipped into a clean, plunge, held together by a delicate gold chain that wrapped across her chest, looking like jewelry built into the gown itself. Her hair was slicked back into a sleek ponytail again, and the glimmer of her diamond drop earrings would shine as she swayed her head.

She wasn’t acting like it, but she was looking for you. Walking gracefully through the crowd, exchanging polite smiles with people she didn’t know, giving half-hearted nods to board members who likely didn’t recognize her.

The live jazz mixed with hints of lounge house was just loud enough for everyone to hear each other's conversation. A waiter passed by with another tray of champagne, and she switched her empty glass with a full one, taking a sip of the sparkling liquid that seemed to pop on the surface of her tongue.

Her eyes scanned the sea of rich people, tailored suits, cocktail dresses, and gowns with disinterest until she noticed a figure in the far back, off to the side of the ballroom, near the door that led to the terrace, where she saw you.

You were facing slightly away from her, speaking with someone who looked professional, clearly someone you worked with. You held a clipboard, nodding, and your posture looked rigid as your shoulders looked spread out with tension, looking like you were in a ‘serious’ mode.

Manon leaned onto a column, slightly tucked behind one of the open archways, watching you from a short distance.

You looked way better than she expected, especially since she expected you to match your coworkers. It was clear that you had a higher position compared to your peers. She eyed the matte black heels you wore, coordinating with the other women who seemed to be working as well.

Still, Manon seemed to forget something. That, despite your position in the company, Marcos valued his friendship with you. She did notice that every time you gave him a report, the two of you seemed to be very ‘buddy-buddy.’ Also, not knowing what to make of it, she makes her mind believe that you two are genuinely just friends.

Her meeting you had to look as natural as possible. So she waited until you turned slightly to your right, appearing to give final notes to whoever you’d been speaking to. Once you took a step toward the outer terrace doors, she moved quickly with her flute of champagne still in hand, intercepting your path with perfect timing.

You felt a gentle bump, shoving you a bit to the left due to your focus being on the clipboard.

“Oh—shit, sorry,” she said, turning with a look of surprise, brows up, pretending like she hadn’t already clocked your exact location twenty minutes ago. You instinctively reached out, one hand lightly touching her arm to steady her.

Your eyes finally met hers… again. “...Ms. Bannerman,” you said, a bit skeptical due to the past few days, but act as normally as possible due to the setting.

She smiled innocently, a look you didn’t really believe. “Manon,” she reminded, in that same voice from your office two weeks ago. You didn’t respond to that, not wanting some kind of casual relationship. Your hand dropped from her arm, and you gave a polite nod. “Didn’t expect to see you back here.”

She gave a little shrug, lifting her champagne flute. “I like parties, but these rich ones aren’t exactly my cup of tea.”

You scanned her dress quickly. Not trying to be rude or anything—just something you usually did, especially when events like these had everyone dressing up in elegant clothes. It also isn’t hard not to notice the way the fabric moved when she did.

“You look different,” you commented casually. “Good different?” she asked, lips smirking in mild amusement. You didn’t answer, and she let the silence take its course; she needs you to talk to her anyway. You glanced past her, checking to see if the event coordinator had moved on, then looked back.

“Is there something you needed?” you asked, the tone still professional, but more curious than intended. “Not really,” she replied, sipping her drink again. “I just… didn’t want to spend the whole night smiling at old men who flash their Rolexes and stories about tax breaks.” You almost smirked at that. Wanting to achieve greatness yourself, but maybe since you weren’t there yet, it was easy to agree with her statement.

“I figured I’d find someone a little more... to my taste,” she added, tilting her head slightly.

“I’m working,” you reminded her. She made a soft hum of acknowledgment, stepping back slightly, but it was clear that she was making a slow exit. “Well,” she said with a wink. “Try not to work too hard.”

As she turned, Manon did a spin for a turn for you to catch the way the slit of her dress shifted with her movement as she began to walk away toward the bar.

She could somewhat feel your lingering gaze, but she knew you weren’t one to likely stare unless it felt necessary.

The celebration went on, and Manon did her best to act like a background character in a movie. She stayed beside Marcos for most of the night, doing her best to keep up with conversations with senior executives and investment partners, smiling and nodding at the right times while sipping slowly at her third flute of champagne.

She felt like she was going to need a couple of those to survive the night.

The live jazz music became softer, setting a more ambient mood as the chandeliers became warmer in color, and the moon began to appear. The warm glow of candles at each table glowed a bit brighter, which helped warm up the space.

But in between every comment about someone else, her eyes would subtly flick across the room, looking for you. Luckily, you weren’t hard to keep track of as you hadn’t changed out of your ‘uniform,’ because even in matte black heels and tailored slacks, you still stood out.

Manon found it odd in the way you seemed to keep her in a trance without even trying. You didn’t exactly have this special look to you, almost looking as normal as everyone else. Yet you are attractive, she assumed it was likely in the way you carried yourself. You rarely ever smile, well, unless talking to Marcos. When speaking, you always got to the point and made sure your words came across properly. Manon also found the way you spoke so formal to be… enticing to her, to keep it a bit PG in her head.

Every few minutes, Manon found herself drifting toward you—on accident, for the first few times. The next few were definitely on purpose.

The first time, it was by the stage area where the staff was adjusting the equipment for the bands, keeping everything in check. You were reading something on your phone, keeping expenses in check while you weren’t physically busy. Manon stepped beside you, humming quietly.

“Is it bad that I’m more scared of expense reports than I am of horror movies?” she murmured casually. You didn’t even glance up, just shrugging, “Depends on the horror movie.” That got a soft, pleased laugh from her.

She tapped her acrylic nails against her glass, then added with an innocent tilt of her head, “I heard you liked those. Horror films.” Now you glanced up, a bit curious as to how she knew.

“I bring you coffee like every other day, I was bound to notice, you know?” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. Your boss's fiancé had practically become your unofficial coffee runner for some odd reason. Only Manon would know what’s going on in Manon’s head, and you weren't sure if you wanted to find out. “Heard some of those blood-curdling kinds of screams from your computer.”

You nodded once. “I like to keep background noise while I work.”

“That explains why you were watching The Silence of the Lambs while working on a large email.” You didn’t say anything, but a small smirk ghosted the edge of your lips before you walked off to finish what you were doing. Slightly yelling over the music while leaving her alone, “It’s an iconic movie.”

Later, by the dessert table—which had been almost picked clean by rich snobs—she spotted you again, talking to someone from the company, and she didn’t even care to remember their name. She only waited until they left before speaking to you again.

“They have Greek options on the menu tonight,” she said, her voice just above a whisper so as not to startle you.

You blinked. “You’re surprisingly observant.” Manon smiled, a bit proud of herself since she usually wasn’t. Then looked over the table, “You get the same order almost every Thursday—chicken souvlaki bowl, lemon rice, no eggplant.”

You raised a brow, even more skeptical of what her game is now. “Sounds like you’re building a case file on me.” She grinned, “Maybe I am.”

“Should I be concerned?”

“No,” she said. “But if I ever have to get you on my side, I know to order a Swedish dessert to go with your coffee.” You didn’t respond right away, almost buffering at what she said. Had she really visited your office with coffee THAT MANY TIMES to know all of that about you?

She saw the breath of a laugh that passed through your nose, not being able to hold it back.

Marcos joined the two of you a minute later, a hand on Manon’s back as he gave you one of his good ole smiles. “It’s good to see you two getting along,” he said, voice cheery. “Told you she’s not as over the top as she seems.”

“She’s been… surprising,” you admitted. That made Manon turn her head just a tiny bit. Those were the only words she needed to hear to keep this momentum going.

Then, after a few hours pass, you finally got the signal to break. A little red mark on your work app letting you know it was your scheduled break for the day. One that you needed after the five-hour mark, really, but this was your first break in seven hours. The band picked up the pacing with their music, which had the guests become looser with their drinking, giving you a minute to breathe.

Everyone was acting like bafoons, but luckily, these were all wealthy people who had reputations to uphold, so anything breaking shouldn’t be a major concern.

Instead of watching over everyone again, you disappeared toward the employee catering area at the back of the venue, where the food was kept for you guys—nothing on tiny porcelain trays, just stainless steel trays with generous servings, sodas, waters, and coffees that tasted like they cost one dollar. In this economy, that price was good, but not for your taste buds. You sat for a bit with a bottle of water and a simple plate of spiced rice, grilled veggies, and grilled lamb. No one really talked to each other unless it was about work, everyone to focused on getting energy back and going back to work.

Once you were finished, you felt the urge to pee from the water you had been drinking throughout the day, and knew you needed to use the restroom. You made your way to the employee wing, only to be met with a queue of people waiting. You checked your phone, still on break, but it wasn’t going to last for much longer.

With a quiet sigh, you left the hallway and turned down the corridor toward the guest bathrooms.

When entering, you peek your head in before completely entering, trying to make sure some big corporate boss wouldn’t yell at you. Not even taking the time to look over the grand decor of this bathroom, you headed into a stall and did what you had to. It was quick, which was great since you needed to be in and out.

You dried your hands slowly after stepping out of the stall, tugging down at the sleeves of your outfit and fixing your hair. There was a quiet to the room, only the soft hum of a nearby speaker playing instrumentals.

Until you heard the door open, making you stiffen up a bit. Yet you relaxed as soon as you saw the midnight blue that had been near you way too much this entire day.

Manon. She entered, and you hear her heels click louder against the clean tiles. She walked straight to the mirror, beside you once again, applying soft pressure to the edges of her eye makeup like it actually needed touching up.

You didn’t give yourself a chance to glance at her, not even saying anything as you focused on washing all the soap off your hands. She let the silence be, thinking of what to say before she actually thought of something.

“Thought you were supposed to use the employee restroom,” she teased, not looking at you but watching your reaction in the mirror. She also wasn’t going to reveal that she didn’t need to come here, but saw you rushing over into this bathroom.

“They were full,” you replied evenly, drying your hands with a paper towel and tossing it out. “Didn’t realize I had a bathroom tracker now,” she hears how nonchalant you are, but takes into account the little look you gave her. The way your brow raised, how the corners of your mouth twitched upward a bit.

“I don’t track you,” she said confidently, still dabbing at her lipstick with her finger. “I just notice things.” You nodded once, almost laughing even, then leaned slightly to the side of the mirror to adjust your earring. “Mm. I’ve noticed.”

She didn’t back off; in fact, she felt like she could make something happen here. Manon reached into the silver sparkling clutch tucked beneath her arm and pulled out a bullet-tubed lipstick. She uncapped it, swiping it once across her lower lip.

“You’ve got a good face,” she murmured, not even looking at you. “Strong jaw, defined cheekbones. I was just thinking…” You looked over, mildly confused. She turned toward you slightly, capping her gloss with a soft snap.

“...you’d probably look really good with some smudged lipstick on you.”

What the hell did that mean? Who were you kidding? You totally understood what she meant… but this wasn’t something you wanted to touch. One, she was your boss’s fiancée. Two, you weren’t exactly planning on being in a relationship, nor have you been in one. Lastly, SHE’S YOUR BOSS’S FIANCÉE.

The comment was said in such a featherlight tone that it could’ve been a comment about makeup advice for you. Yet she seemed troublesome enough for you to know that wasn’t the case. Your brows lifted just a little, just registering the implication.

Manon turned back to the mirror, fixing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.“Just... an observation,” she added lazily.

You didn’t respond, but your gaze lingered on her a second longer than it should have.

She finally looked at you through the mirror again. “See you out there,” she said, the corner of her lip curling into a knowing half-smile. Then, just like that, she walked out.

Was… was she just flirting with you?

For the first time, you didn’t have anything to say. “What in the world do you have me involved with right now?” You questioned while looking up at the dark marble ceiling, lighting beaming a bit as you groaned.

Your timeline is about success, not whatever this was. There was a feeling that this would set you back a bit—or maybe a bunch. You aren’t really sure.

The weekend flew by quickly, and it was already Monday morning, which came faster than usual. Usually, you’d like time to go by quickly, and being able to hit your timeline quotas was always on your mind. Yet, you almost hoped time would go by slowly after the event.

By Sunday, you had time to breathe, organize your files, and even binge two documentaries while folding laundry and meal prepping for the week. Doing all the chores on that day, the schedule made everything feel normal, even for just a bit.

Though even with being busy, you couldn’t get Manon’s words out of your head. Smudged lipstick?

You didn’t realize how much those two words could live rent-free in your mind, and you didn’t exactly like it either. Shaking your head, you pulled into the parking lot—your black Chrysler shining underneath the sun as you pulled into the lot and parked in your usual space.

Grabbing your leather briefcase-style purse from the passenger seat and your go-to hot black coffee in the other hand, you made your way into the building. The elevator greeted you quietly as you stepped inside alone, and it was only as the soft elevator music played above that your mind began to wander again.

‘You’d probably look really good with some smudged lipstick on you.’

It didn’t sound friendly, but you knew better than to assume it was. Because it absolutely wasn’t professional.

It made you fall deeper into this cycle of thoughts you were beginning to have. Manon seemed like an anomaly in your mind. Sure, she was beautiful, but also… chaotic, unpredictable, and most importantly, Marcos’ fiancée. Let’s not forget that part of the information… There was pure sarcasm there.

Marcos was someone you respected, especially since he’s constantly kind to you. Offering you a promotion that could’ve taken others years to be considered. He always asked about your life, never raised his voice at anyone, and even went out of his way to pronounce everyone’s name right on the first day of hiring.

So, whatever it was Manon had tried at that party—whatever she meant—you told yourself to forget it.

The elevator dinged on the 38th floor. You stepped out, still sipping your coffee, pulling out your keycard for your office. The floor was empty, the lights dim because of the time, which wasn’t unusual. You were usually the first in, and it gave you thirty minutes of pure silence to mentally prepare yourself for the hectic day.

But when you opened your office door, your brain paused. Because lo and behold, there’s Manon sitting in your chair.

Her legs crossed casually, her fingers spinning slowly against the edge of your desk, looking comfortable in a room that should’ve been your safe space. You hadn’t even noticed the blinds were shut from any view of the outside, too focused on what’s in front of you.

“...What the hell?” you muttered under your breath. She looked at you, a brow raised while looking, clearly, unbothered. “Good morning to you, too.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I was bored,” she replied with an airy tone, voice sounding sluggish like she had no better reason. “Wanted a change of scenery.” You checked the time on your phone instinctively. “It’s barely past seven.”

“And?” she smiled.

No words could even explain how you felt, an exhale just escaping through your nose, using your foot to close the door. She wore a deep blood-red cropped top, sleeveless with some geometrical cut-outs, a small metal clasp at the collarbone keeping it secured. The matching skirt was high-waisted and fit her curves.

It was neither appropriate nor inappropriate for the space you were in. She just looked a little confused about what to wear in the office, if you were being honest with yourself. This also doesn’t negate how good she looks, either.

You walked across the room and dropped your bag onto the olive green velvet couch pressed up against the far wall. The black wood coffee table sat in front of it, where you placed your cup of coffee and laptop. You sat down on the carpet with a soft sigh, letting Manon stay in her spot instead of troubling yourself.

Finding yourself typing in your login, you begin to check the schedule for the day. “Meeting in thirty minutes,” you mumbled, scrolling. “Finance team again… which means Chase.”

You said out loud, but you regret it almost instantly.

“Oh~,” Manon hummed, dragging the word. “The infamous Chase. You really don’t like him, huh?” You gave her a pointed look but didn’t answer, hands tapping across the keyboard.

She wasn’t pleased with the reaction, so she made a move instead.

You didn’t see didn’t pay mind to her, but the couch shifted behind you, and then she was somehow beside you already. Sitting on the floor like it was normal, like she hadn’t snuck into your office before you even got in.

Focus only on the screen in front of you. You kept working, inputting reminders, clearing notifications, and answering three long emails. But you could feel her. Her shoulder was close to yours, and the scent of whatever perfume she wore.

“You’re really not going to say anything about how close I am?” she asked, almost teasing.

“I figured you’d do what you want regardless,” you replied, still not looking.

That made her chuckle, then she leaned her weight onto one hand, the other resting against your couch as she adjusted her posture. You could feel her eyes were on you this time.

Then she spoke again, voice softer this time, but laced with intent. “You’re warm.” You turned your head. “What?”

“You’re blushing,” she said, playful but still watching closely. “Your ears always get red first, don’t they?”

You looked at her for the first time in minutes, lips parting slightly as nothing came out. She didn’t look back, just kept scrolling absently on her phone, as if she didn’t just say something that made your brain go a hundred miles per hour.

Then she said it, like a harmless observation. “Maybe you should take off that blazer. Roll up your sleeves or something.” You weren’t sure what came over you, because you normally wouldn’t do a suggestion like that. But this time you listened.

You pulled off the navy blazer slowly, revealing the white silk button-up underneath, and began to roll your sleeves up to your elbows.

Minutes passed, and neither of you said anything. While you were doing your best to focus, Manon’s eyes trailed all over your arms. The way your forearms would flex every time your typing picked up the pace, or how the veins in your hands would pop while gripping your cup of coffee.

Yeahhh, you definitely had her in a chokehold.

Then, out of nowhere, she leaned closer. “Hey, what’s that?” You looked at your screen where she pointed and told her, “That’s the tracker for Q3 expenses—”

But before you could finish the sentence, her hand wrapped lightly around your forearm as she leaned in to point at something. Your breath caught, and she clearly noticed with a victorious look in her eyes. Then letting go like it meant nothing as you finished your explanation.

You cleared your throat and kept working. Time was moving fast enough that the clock ticked down to five minutes before your meeting. You stood, slipping on your watch and grabbing your laptop.

“I’ve gotta go,” you said, your voice sounding nervous, and you wanted to slap your head because of it. She leaned back against the seating of the couch like your office is her house.

“I’ll stay here,” she said with a shrug. “Make myself comfortable.” You blinked. “It’s not your office.”

“But it’s not not, either.”

‘What the hell did she just say?’ You questioned yourself, staring at her, but decided not to argue at the small time you had.

As you walked toward the meeting room, sleeves still rolled up, laptop in hand, you noticed Gary glancing at you as soon as you stepped in. His eyes dipped to your arms briefly, but you noticed. You didn’t say anything. Just sat down, opened your device, and rolled your sleeves down quietly beneath the table.

Only then did he begin the meeting. It dragged on longer than scheduled, not that it surprised you. These things always started out with simple overviews, but by the end, they had turned into a full-on strategy session. You’d already finished reviewing the numbers last week, so most of the hour was spent with your elbow on the table and your cheek resting in your palm, half-listening while Chase ran through a checklist that felt more like he was trying to prove something, as always.

Still, you took your delegated tasks, nodding, and typing them into your calendar. There were three things you’d have to follow up on throughout the week, but nothing too major. Just enough to keep your head intact.

By the time you pushed open the door to your office, your sleeves still faintly creased from earlier, you felt ready to crash. What you weren’t ready for… was Manon still in your office.

She’d relocated to the couch, one leg tucked under the other, scrolling through her phone in silence. You didn’t say anything at first, walking past her toward your desk. You flicked the monitor on with a finger and sat down, adjusting the screen’s tilt before glancing once in her direction.

“Does Marcos know you’re still down here?”

“He doesn’t mind,” she said casually, not even looking up. “I texted him earlier that I was in your office.”

You quirked a brow. “Before or after I came in?” She gave a sly shrug, finally meeting your gaze. “Does it matter?”

You didn’t answer and instead, logged into your system, pulling up the software you used to organize reports, opened your calendar on the side, and—without thinking too much—clicked on the search bar for a movie.

You always liked something playing in the background. It helped you focus. The moment the opening credits of a classic black-and-white thriller started rolling across the screen, Manon perked up from the soundtrack.

“Ooooh—what are we watching?”

You leaned back in your chair slightly. “Just something to keep me entertained.” She didn’t need another excuse, wheeling herself from the couch on one of the extra desk chairs—thankfully, your office had more than one—and placing herself right beside you. A little too close, but not that you’d expect anything different by now.

As the movie played quietly between your clicks and page flips, you focused hard on the spreadsheet in front of you, trying to ignore the light taps of her finger against the armrest. Or the way she kept leaning in every now and then, just to read the captions. Manon clearly had good enough vision to have made that comment during the event.

You told yourself, just work. That’s the only thing that should be happening in the first place.

But somewhere between the first movie ending and the next one starting, you found your eyes drifting toward the movie side of your screen more than your numbers. By the third film—one of your favorites, Misery from like 1990—you had half-forgotten that you needed to work.

Manon was still beside you, cross-legged now in the chair, fully invested in Kathy Bates' spiral into madness. You didn’t even register when she pulled her phone out and started texting someone.

Then, not even ten minutes later, there was a knock on your door. Pausing the movie, brows furrowed together. You weren’t expecting anyone or anything. “I got it,” she said, hopping up without a glance.

You watched as she opened the door just a sliver, exchanging a short greeting with someone out in the hall before closing it again with two brown paper bags in hand. She set one in front of you, the warm scent wafting up and instantly hitting your nose. You didn’t even have to look inside, knowing that exact smell.

“You got my order.”

“I figured you’d be hungry,” she said in a hum, settling back into her chair with her own bag. “And it’s almost your usual lunch time.” You didn’t say it aloud, but you were surprised.

Not because she knew what you liked. Because she’d made it clear during the event that she had all this information about you, throwing out small facts she’d clearly gathered. The Greek food, documentaries, coffee, and desserts.

She basically studied you during every coffee visit. You both ate in silence, fork against the aluminium take-out containers. It was surprisingly still comforting, even with her beside you.

You were reaching for a napkin when her fingers brushed your cheek quickly. “You had something.” You froze, her thumb brushing the corner of your mouth, catching a tiny crumb.

Then she popped it into her own mouth. Sucked her finger clean with a smirk and kept chewing like nothing happened.

You paused, focus no longer on the food and movie. Clearing your throat, you reach for a sip of water, pretending to check your inbox like that would somehow make you act normal again. But it didn’t help.

Then, just as you were finishing up, she subtly leaned closer, until her head was tilted onto your shoulder. “Just watching a little closer,” she said. You didn’t answer. Just tilting the screen slightly toward her direction, more, in hopes that she’ll move away.

Your heart was stupidly loud in your chest. Quite frankly, it was freaking you out at the possibility of her hearing it. Eventually, she pulled back and leaned into her chair again, stretching out a bit. She reached for her phone once more, probably checking the time, and you hoped she was checking for any texts from Marcos.

“I should head up before he starts looking for me,” she said after a minute, standing and brushing off her skirt. “But expect this again.” You turned toward her, blinking like you didn’t hear her right.

“Huh?” She winked, already walking to the door. “You heard what I said, Miss L/n.”

You didn’t even get a word out before the door clicked behind her. Now sitting in silence, you drag your hands through your hair, fingers tugging lightly at the strands you’d styled that morning. It felt like your mind was too scrambled to even function the entire day.

Lightly slapping your face multiple times, needing to wake up from whatever messed-up reality this was. You were Y/n L/n. You didn’t get distracted. You didn’t let random people come into your office when they wanted to, and let them stay. You didn’t do… whatever the hell that was.

You groaned quietly, rubbing your temples and leaning back in your chair. Because you had no clue how you were supposed to survive the rest of this week. Let alone the next time she would decided to stroll into your office like she owned the damn building.

And unfortunately… You knew she was bound to keep her word. That’s just the vibe Manon gave off.

Now, every other day, you’d walk into your office and there she’d be. Always sitting somewhere different. Luckily, it wasn’t every single day, but her schedule didn’t make it any better.

One day, it’s your chair, legs crossed, her tablet in hand like she was actually doing something. The next, she’d be curled up on your couch, flicking through her phone or reading something in magazines the company provided for every private office.

And every time, you had the same reaction—eyebrows raised, confused stare, followed by that half-sigh, half-resigned chuckle as you walked in and set your things down.

It became a routine at some point, and you just let it happen.

Meeting, working on the computer, some movies, then lunch. She would leave after that, usually. You also weren’t exactly the type to let people into your space like this. But for whatever reason, you didn’t push her out.

It was hard to pinpoint why as well, but you didn’t want to think about it. But it was now feeling natural for you to have ‘a friend’ around every other morning.

Strangely, Marcos never said a word. Not asking what she was doing on your floor so often, or why she spent hours in your office some days. If anything, he just smiled at the thought of it all. To him, his two favorite people becoming friends was… a win.

And maybe that’s what made you feel like you shouldn’t ask questions either. Because if he wasn’t worried, then why would you risk being the one to begin those thoughts for him?

Even when it started feeling more natural, when your conversations drifted from surface-level things to more personal topics. The sarcasm turned into inside jokes, and the playful banter stopped catching you off guard.

You never even noticed when you stopped calling her Ms. Bannerman. One day, it just… became Manon. And the moment you said it, she smirked like she had been waiting for it the whole time.

You didn’t notice that either. One dense mofo.

Then it was another quiet afternoon, where you're seated at the desk, typing out a brief report, one ear tuned to the old horror film playing on your screen. Today it was ‘The Others,’ which Manon actually chose this time. You figured you’d let her, since she was starting to take an interest in your movie preferences. It was now a bonding time for you.

Your blazer was already tossed over the back of your couch, sleeves rolled up as the breeze of the AC hit your skin, becoming a new thing you did ever since Manon stuck around. An iced coffee rested beside your mousepad, and a fork sat in your finished lunch bowl—Greek salad, of course.

The coffee was Manon’s, by the way, you liked your coffee piping hot.

Manon sat just to your left in the spare office chair, slouched down with her ankles crossed, wearing a sleek black blazer with matching wide-leg trousers. Looking like ‘money,’ and you had become used to it.

Today, you felt yourself being much more observant than usual, to your own detriment. The way she puckers her glossy lips to take a sip out of the straw. The way she twisted the ring on her middle finger while watching the movie. The short, hum she let out when she commented on a shot she liked.

You tried to distract yourself from it all. Because, despite this new routine you had going on with her, you knew who she was and who she was with.

But she wasn’t acting like someone taken.

Not with the way she would lean in close sometimes to fix your collar, that didn’t need fixing. Or the way she always sat with her leg touching yours just slightly, the way she had commented that you “never flinched during scary movies, but somehow managed to jump every time she touched you.”

You couldn’t respond to anything flirty she threw at you, not knowing how to. Just giving tight smiles and turning back to your monitor.

But now, as another movie neared its halfway mark, she stretched. Arms overhead, body arching, the fabric of her top shifting up a bit. She then turns to you, gazing up and down. “You always sit like that when you’re trying not to fall asleep,” she said suddenly.

You blinked. “What?”

She nodded at your posture. “All stiff. Straight spine. Classic sleep-fighting position. Should relax a bit before you get a stiff neck.”

You cracked a smirk, shaking your head. “I’m not tired.”

“Uh-huh.”

You leaned back a little, cracking your neck. “I’m just focused.” She hummed, biting into a small biscuit she had picked up from the lunch tray earlier. “Sure.”

You looked back at your screen. But her gaze lingered on you longer than it should’ve.

She didn’t speak again until a few minutes later, eyes still on the screen, voice quieter.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

It feels like a cold breeze went down your back when hearing her hushed tone, a tiny shiver overcoming your body. She almost got you there, but you didn’t look away from the screen.

“No.”

“Have you ever?”

“What kind of question is that?” You asked back, not understanding where the questions were coming from.

She shrugged, unbothered. “Just curious.” You leaned back, arms crossed loosely. “Not really. I’ve been… busy.”

“That’s not an answer I’m accepting.”

You sighed, exhaling as you rubbed your temple. “I haven’t really dated. I never thought about it much. I wanted to get here.”

A brow raises, and she leans closer, “Here, meaning?”

“My position in this company… in life,” you told her while tapping a pen on the notebook you had written almost everything. Manon only assumed that it was for work, noticing after her third visit. It was always in the same spot, a regular five-star notebook in green. Even if she wanted to know more about you, she didn’t have the guts to snoop in that book unless she wanted you angry.

She smiled faintly, her gaze softer. “And now that you’re here?”

You paused from typing. The question felt like a light slap to the face, strange to even hear. “I don’t know,” you said honestly. “Still feels like there’s more to do.”

She leaned in slightly. “You ever wonder what it’d be like to just… let yourself enjoy something?” You turned, eyes meeting hers.

The silence could be cut with a knife, the tension rising as you felt the heat building on your chest. She wasn’t looking away, and you could hear it in your head—how your breath began to waver.

You thought maybe she’d laugh it off, right about now. Maybe say something else to tease you. But instead, she leaned in more, and you could feel yourself instinctively pushing on your feet to roll back.

Her hands reach forward on the armrests, using as much strength as she could to stop you in your tracks. You didn’t feel an incredible force being used, but it seemed like your legs weakened, the use of heels every day—almost like a workout— failing you in these moments.

Manon pulls you in slowly, tilting her head a bit in the process, and you could just feel your eyes stuck open wide while hers begin to flutter shut. Before you could even begin to process a single thing, you feel her lips on yours.

The gloss transferred on your own plain lips, and all you could do was sit there, frozen, like a stone statue. Everything caught you off guard, and you weren’t sure what to do from here. As much as you didn’t want to ‘ruin the moment,’ the first thought that came into mind was Marcos.

You were currently kissing his fiancée… no—she was currently kissing you. The switch in thoughts seemed like a pathetic way to excuse the actions, but it was bad no matter what way it was worded.

You wanted to push back, maybe even hard enough to hopefully get her out of your office, but her hand grazed the edge of your jaw, thumb sliding beneath your chin, a slow lifting motion as she helped tilt your head to the right. Completely and utterly still, you were like a system short-circuiting in real time.

Her lips were warm, and you inhaled, smelling a wave of her minty fresh breath. You didn’t kiss her back, not right away at least. Yet she didn’t seem fazed. When she pulled back, she lingered just an inch away from you, still within reach.

“That’s what it feels like,” she whispered. You swallowed, voice quiet. “Manon…” She tilted her head, a bit of amusement in her voice, “You didn’t stop me.”

“I didn’t know it was happening.”

“Still didn’t stop me.”

She’s right, you could’ve pushed her away, but you didn’t. That reaction pleased her. Manon wanted to test the waters with how her plan was going. Although in her book, testing the waters basically equated to jumping off a bridge into deep water in anyone else's eyes.

And that was exhilarating to her, just like that kiss.

The alarm on your phone buzzed, and you almost jolted from your seat. It just meant the meeting you had with accounting in ten minutes. She smiled, tapping your thigh lightly as she stood. “You should get ready.”

You watched her walk toward the door, walking out like usual. “Same time tomorrow?” she asked, hand already on the knob. You only nodded once because words were no longer going to work in your favor, apparently.

She left, and the door clicked shut behind her, and there you were. Still in your seat, head slightly tilted back. Your heart was beating a bit too loudly while your mind raced a bit too fast.

You could almost feel reality punching you in the gut as you let the thoughts settle down, and how were you supposed to sit through a whole meeting now? Better yet, how were you ever supposed to face Marcos after that?

The only solution that came to mind… let Chase do the reports for a while. Even for a week, just to clear your head.

It didn’t seem like anything was actually gonna save you from her, because she was in your office the next day, sitting with a glass of wine standing tall on your desk. Your eyes land on the red wine, then drift toward her with a tired gaze.

“Couldn’t give me a break?” Your hand reached back, combing your voluminous hair that you didn’t have the energy to fix for today.

“Nope,” she told you enthusiastically, popping the ‘p’ as she strutted towards you. Her fingers raked through the ends of your loose hair, and you didn’t move an inch. Manon could see the physical lasting effect she had on you.

The tamed Y/n everyone knew in the office was nowhere to be found. She saw a woman with smoldering eyes, hair kept down, while a few wrinkles were visible all over your black collared shirt. You wore matching slacks and heels, no accessories, and just some square glasses she had never seen that covered up your bleary eyes.

“You’ll get a break from me today,” she said and you could feel your shoulder relax until she butt in again, “until later tonight.” The confused face that had been recurring since you met Manon is once again on your face.

“You better not leave tonight, Y/n,” you listened as she began to place two wine glasses—not sure where she even got them from.

And for some reason, you listened. You didn’t even know what time it was when you finally looked up again. The schedule seemed to be pretty clean of meetings, just a bunch of paperwork and emails needing to be done. It was a blessing and a curse because time flew by, and before you could even consider the amount of hours that had past, the familiar sound of your office door clicking open snapped you out of your tired daze.

As she promised, she walked in as her eyes checked the digital Apple Watch on her wrist.

Manon dressed differently than usual that which made your head tilt slightly on instinct. A black cropped hoodie hung loose on her frame, roughly cut sleeves for a tank top look, and matching sweatpants pooled around her ankles. She had swapped her usual pointed heels for a pair of black socks and open sandals, something so normal that it almost made you chuckle.

She didn’t even look like the same woman. This was a normal, functioning human being in front of you. No makeup, hair tied back loosely with a few flyaways, and something about the look made your stomach flip.

“Hey,” she said casually, half-smirk painted on her lips. “Hope you didn’t eat yet.” Your eyes trailed down to the bottle that was kept cool in the room, then to the plastic bag of food in her hands. “I didn’t,” you admitted quietly, sitting back in your chair and clasping your hands together on the desk. “But I wasn’t planning on… wine.”

“Well, we can’t live off saltine crackers forever,” she said, nodding toward the small plastic sleeve of crackers you had left beside your keyboard. “Don’t think those count as a meal.”

You were too tired to argue or give her a smart remark, but you let her do her thing.

To Manon, it was evident that you looked like the version of yourself people weren’t meant to see. And she’s currently seeing all of it.

You didn’t know what you were doing—what you were thinking, even—but you watched her hand tilt the bottle and let the red liquid fill the glasses anyway. She slid one over to you carefully. Taking it slowly, fingers brushing hers just briefly in the exchange. There was a part of your brain that wanted to say no, that this was a terrible idea, that you’d regret it by the morning. But then again, that same part of your brain hadn’t slept much last night since she kissed you.

So, you took a sip. Despite not being much of a party person or adventurer, you could handle your alcohol well, and you sure did love wine. The bottles you kept in your apartment were very telling of that, at least you're a responsible drinker, though.

“Not bad,” you murmured. Manon took out some pasta—an easy food to share between the two of you and used a plastic fork. “Better than those crackers,” she quipped, lounging on your couch with one leg tucked under her.

It was quiet for a little while. The soft hum of your air conditioning filled the room, and the city lights outside your picture windows cast a dim blue hue across the office. You sat at your desk, swirling the wine slightly in the glass without realizing it, while Manon sat with her head leaning back against the couch cushion.

“You look tired,” she said softly.

“I am.”

“I figured.”

You glanced over at her again. Her face was still angled toward the ceiling, but her eyes were on you. “I told Marcos I was coming here tonight, by the way.”

You blinked. “Oh.”

“He didn’t mind,” she added quickly, shrugging. She wasn’t about to tell you that she spoke of it as ‘wanting girl time with you.’

Your expression flattened. “Is that so?”

“Yeah~,” she said, eyes gleaming a little. “He thinks we’re besties now.” That made you snort quietly. Sipping a bit on your wine again. “Right.”

“He thinks you’re good for me,” she added, tone a little more serious now. “Keeps me company while he’s working, he says.” You didn’t respond, sipping again. Once again, you couldn’t trust a peep out of your mouth.

“I think you’re good for me,” she admitted. That time, you looked at her. You expected a flirty look in her eyes, maybe even a smirk. Yet she met you with sincerity in her eyes.

“I don’t know what this is,” you muttered. “Neither do I.” That was more honest than she expected from herself, because there wasn’t much to gain from this. If anything, it’s more trouble than it was worth.

Still, there was something in her that she couldn’t ignore either. A growing infatuation with you. That’s not what she thought when she first met you, but after every coffee she brought, every conversation, it started to feel like she opened a new book. Every new chapter she saw was something new. And she was now hooked.

You exhaled slowly, letting the weight of your body sink deeper into your chair. Setting your glass down on the desk, your fingers still curled around the base of the glass.

“You kissed me.”

“I remember… clearly remember that,” she said, voice soft. Your gaze met hers again, studying the way she sat across the room, not saying much. And maybe that’s what threw you off the most.

She was being patient.

“You’ve been acting like that didn’t happen,” it sounded like a sigh coming out of you. “No,” she said, a small smile curling at her lips. “You’ve been acting like that didn’t happen. I just figured I’d give you time to process.”

Those words made you hate how right she was. There was another lengthy silence, so quiet that you could hear the faint tapping of her fingers against her wine glass—and the steady pound of your heartbeat in your ears. You stood slowly, Manon catching the hesitation in your movement. But you walked over anyway.

She didn’t move when you sat beside her, just watched you settle next to her on the couch, glass still in hand. You both faced the city view from your floor-to-ceiling windows. Just the soft, ambient lighting and the tension that felt like it had been building for weeks.

Her arm brushed against yours, the contact like a trigger for a conversation. “I don’t usually do this,” you mumbled.

“I know, I can tell.”

“You barely know me.”

“Maybe,” she murmured, glancing over. “But I’ve been paying attention.”

You turned, brows lifted just slightly. “To what exactly?” She tilted her head, resting it on her arm that leaned on the back cushions. “How do you loosen your hair later in the day. How you always pause movies at exactly the one-hour mark—like it’s your reminder to refocus. How you use hand sanitizer right before touching your keyboard after meetings. You’ve got three types of pens on your desk, but you only ever write with the same black one. And you smell like something woody every morning.”

Your lips parted slightly, caught off guard by the specifics. “That’s what I pay attention to,” she said simply.

You felt your throat go dry. Her gaze was on your mouth now, and something about that made your fingers twitch against your glass. She leaned in—just a little—but it was enough to make your breath catch.

“You gonna kiss me this time?” she asked, her voice curious, a way to tempt you, and it worked. You didn’t answer, just tilted your head forward a fraction of an inch.

Manon set her wine glass down on the coffee table, and you followed without thinking.

Her hand then cups your cheek again, like before, thumb tracing slowly along your jaw as her lips find yours.

The flavor and scent of wine are clear as you take a small breath, inhaling. You leaned into her, your body responding on instinct. When her hand slid behind your neck, you didn’t stop it, letting yourself be pulled closer with your knees brushing against hers. Lips parted just enough for her to sigh into you, her fingers touching your upper back, lightly grazing with her acrylic nails.

“You want me to stop?” she asked gently, lips still against yours.

You shook your head, too hypnotized by her to speak. The scent of her perfume clung to the air around you, and everything, like the wine, the heat, her touch, was starting to overwhelm your senses.

Neither of you is drunk, but something about the build-up, the way your thoughts had been spiraling since that first kiss—it all clicked too fast, and now it was crashing into you.

You leaned forward more, no thoughts going on, and Manon let herself fall back onto the armrest slowly. Her arms wrapped around your waist, fingers sliding down your back, tugging at your shirt where it was tucked in, the belt you wore stopping any movement. Your forearm pressed beside her head, holding you up, the other hand resting on her waist. Her skin was warm, exposed under the cropped hem of her hoodie.

Rain started to tap against the windows, light at first, then gaining more momentum. The soft sound gave the room a strange calmness, contrasting with the sudden burn that had settled low in your stomach.

She wrestled with your belt, reaching for it with a smirk, clearly growing impatient. You could sense the struggle to unbuckle them, so you took over and did it yourself, tossing it to the floor without breaking from her. She let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh as her hands slid beneath your shirt, nails grazing lightly against your back.

“This is what I’ve wanted since I met you,” she whispered against your lips, her voice husky. You felt the heat from her words, the wetness pooling against your underwear. “And why is that, Ms. Bannerman?” you asked, half-teasing.

Her mouth curved against yours as she kissed you again. “Someone who needed some loosening up. The way you carry yourself with so much authority—it’s sexy, Y/n.”

That made something in you stir, made your fingers curl into the fabric at her waist as her nails toyed at the top of your slacks. You managed to untie the drawstrings of her sweats, hands pressing against her hips.

“I need you,” she whispered again, lips trailing down your jaw, the gloss from her mouth leaving faint marks with every press of her kiss. You could feel the waistband of her sweats shift beneath your fingers, how her body tensed as you got lower. Her skin was soft, and you felt the edge of her underwear just barely beneath your fingertips.

But then, just as your hand pressed forward, it hit you like sirens in your head. Just a bunch of loud and blaring horns. You froze, then pushed your body off hers, breath shaky.

“What?” Manon asked, breathless. Her lips were slightly swollen, and her hair was out of place on your couch.

“W-we can’t be doing this,” you stammered, scrambling up and smoothing down your shirt, eyes wide, panic creeping up your spine. You grabbed your bag and started tossing your belongings inside.

“Y/n, you can’t just get up and act like—”

You cut her off, heading straight for the door without looking back. With great timing, the hallway was empty. Pressing the elevator button while your heart couldn’t settle down as the thing took too long. Too many thoughts and feelings were spiraling.

Feelings. Everything was beginning to scare you. Glancing back multiple times, heart pounding as if she might come running to you. You wouldn’t even know what to say, scared of the option of being cornered in the small space.

When the elevator finally came, you rushed for the lobby button. The rush had you fumbling with your bag, almost dropping multiple items while trying to calm yourself down.

By the time you stepped out into the parking lot, the rain had picked up. It poured down heavily, and with the wind picking up, your collared shirt, now soaking up the drops of rain, is cold. You walked through it anyway to get to your car, barely noticing how soaked your clothes actually became.

Meanwhile, Manon remained on your couch, still leaning against the armrest, her lips parted, chest rising and falling unevenly. She didn’t chase you, wanting to give you time.

But the way you kissed her back? She knew you wanted her, but she also knew—just like everything with you—it had to come with your permission.

And that only made her want you more.

Your eyes flickered open, warmth from the sun going through the windows of your apartment and landing right on your face. You sat up sluggishly, rubbing at your eyes before reaching for your phone resting on the side of your bed.

Marcos had finally texted back, long after you’d passed out from your late-night shower.

Marcos Sure Y/n! U don’t even have to come in until Thursday if u want. Just lmk when u want to come back in.

You Just needed one rest day, Marcos. I’ll be back tmmr, thanks.

Your replies were short, the feeling of guilt still bubbling low in your stomach. Crawling out from your loft, you made your way down to the open living space, stretching slightly before opening the fridge. There was a small comfort in the domesticity of it—making your own coffee, moving slowly. You didn’t get to do this often, mostly because you preferred being at the office. So, it was kind of nice to get to do this again after so long.

You turned on the TV and put on a random documentary from your Netflix list, the kind you always meant to watch but never had time for. Coffee in hand, you moved around your kitchen to make something simple—eggs, bacon, and toast. As the food cooked, the smell filled your apartment, adding to the alleviating feeling you were currently having.

You sat on the couch, plate balanced in your lap, and ate while half-watching the screen, already considering what to do with the rest of the day. A jog sounded good—get your body moving, then rest.

After your quick breakfast, you changed into a basic gym set, throwing a large shirt over it and lacing your sneakers before heading out for a jog through the neighborhood. The breeze was nice, just brisk enough to cool your skin as you ran past familiar houses and quiet sidewalks. After about an hour, you stopped by a small smoothie shop for a pick-me-up and walked home with a green blend of mango, kale, apple, and juice in hand.

Back inside, you hopped into the shower, letting hot water rinse away the sweat. You scrubbed thoroughly, trying to reset your body and your brain, and when you stepped out, you slipped into oversized sweats and a sports bra.

You returned to the couch, curling up with your smoothie and remote, letting the documentary play while your body melted into the cushions. That’s honestly how the entire day went: some cooking, snacking, and lounging. It was peaceful.

The sun had started to set again by the time you noticed how golden rays were spilling through the tall windows of your apartment. You reached for the remote, closing the blinds with a quiet mechanical hum just before there was a knock at your door.

Your brows furrowed, not expecting anyone. Padded toward the door barefoot, fingers slightly wrinkled from all the dishes and cooking you’d done that day. No one ever really came to your apartment—unless you were ordering food, and you hadn’t.

You opened the door without thinking much. That was your mistake, because there, Manon stood in front of you. In her usual high-end clothes, curls bouncing softly around her shoulders. Her presence didn’t match the atmosphere of your home, and your eyes practically bulged from your head as your mouth parted in shock.

You instinctively looked past her, left and right down the hallway like someone might follow behind. “What do you think you're doing here?” you whispered, voice hushed like you were trying to avoid being caught.

Manon blinked, confused, then looked around dramatically. “Marcos told me you wouldn’t be in, so I decided to take the day off too.” She breezed past you like she’s been here multiple times, dropping her purse onto your couch.

“How do you even know my address?” you asked, still stuck in place.

“Nice place,” she commented instead, eyes roaming the space with interest.

‘YOUR BOSS’S FIANCÉ IS LITERALLY IN YOUR HOME? DOES THAT NOT CLICK IN HER HEAD? IS THIS NOT WEIRD??’ Was all you could think.

You shook your head and sighed. “Uhm… welcome in, I guess?” you muttered, still confused.

“Thanks,” she said casually, toeing off her shoes before walking further inside. “So what brings you here?” you asked, arms crossed now.

“Was a little worried after yesterday,” she said, and your heart skipped a beat—until she added, “Thought you might’ve gotten sick from the rain, so I brought some stuff.” From the oversized purse she carried, she pulled out a collection of items—cough drops, cold medicine, compresses, and even herbal candies.

You blinked. “You didn’t have to do all th—”

She stopped you, placing the back of her hand to your forehead and then your neck. “I think you feel a little warm. Lay down. I’ll take care of everything.”

You sat down slowly, still watching her like she was some dream. Manon, in your kitchen, pouring hot water for instant noodles she’d apparently bought on the way here. You tried to go back to watching TV, but it was hard. You're extremely hyper-aware, too focused on the fact that she’s in your home and all the commotion behind you.

After about ten minutes, she came back behind you, handing over a steaming bowl of noodles, then rushing off again to grab a glass of water, two pills, and a warm compress fresh from the microwave.

You stared at her like she was insane. “Manon, what happened last night was a m—”

“Eat, Y/n,” she cut you off sharply, voice dipped in something that made you instantly look down at the noodles, then back at her, then back at the noodles to do as you were told.

“Good,” she said once you finished. “Now that that’s out of the way, let’s keep watching.”

And of course, she plopped down next to you again, this time sitting cross-legged like a mermaid, skirt a bit tight around her thighs for her to move them properly on your couch.

You finished your meal while pretending she wasn’t sitting inches away. She handed you the medicine once you set the bowl down, and you hesitated, looking bewildered. She didn’t acknowledge you, so you just took the medicine.

You shifted on the couch, inching further to the right, trying to make some distance. But Manon, like her usual self, reached for the blanket over your lap, lifted it slightly, and slipped underneath—cozying up right next to you, head resting lightly against your chest.

You stiffened immediately, not moving a single bit. Your heartbeat was out of control, and she noticed.

Manon looked up at you, gaze soft, and you slowly looked down to meet her eyes. Her face was inches away from you. “Are you feeling okay?” she asked.

You nodded once, swallowing. “Do you not feel bad for Marcos?” you whispered.

She caught the hint of sadness in your voice, the guilt you weren’t even hiding. Shaking her head gently, she whispered, “Marcos is sweet—and I know you see him as a friend too. But this contract, the wedding, all of it… It was sudden. And he just isn’t the person for me.”

She paused, gaze heavy with something unreadable. “He clearly deserves better than me.”

You raised a brow, a bit offended as that implies ‘you deserved her worse.’

“What does that entail for me, then?” Her answer came quickly, “I want you. And I’m willing to put in more effort with you than I ever did with him. I’ve admitted that to myself, Y/n.”

The confession made you smile a bit, and you told her, “I think I want you too, Manon. But I don’t know how I feel about doing these things behind his back.”

“Let me worry about that,” she tells you, flipping herself onto your lap without hesitation, straddling you, making your breath hitch. Her skirt rides up her thighs, warm skin meeting your palms as your hands instinctively move to hold her steady.

The moment her eyes lock with yours, butterflies stir in her stomach—something about the way you look up at her, the feel of your grip, confirms it. She really, truly does like you.

Her fingers cradle the back of your neck as she pulls you in, crashing her lips onto yours.

Manon was never the type to dominate, and that wasn’t about to change now. She needed you to take control, even if you had no experience. She was sure it was there—you just needed a little push.

Her hips roll slowly, grinding against your lap, only slightly cushioned by the blanket. Still, you feel her heat through the friction. Her legs wrap around your waist as you shift, pulling the blanket away and lifting her with ease.

You gently lay her back onto the couch, kissing her through the motion. Your hands slide up her thighs, fingers grazing her warm skin, and she lets out a muffled groan, her lips still tangled with yours. Her fingers tangle in your loose hair, tugging slightly—every little sound she makes only pushes you deeper into want.

“Y/n, please, I need you now,” she pants, voice quiet but full of desperation as she pulls away from the kiss. You pause, just for a second, hesitant. “I don’t exactly know what I’m doing, Manon,” you admit, and the look on your face is endearing, soft, wide-eyed, like a lost puppy.

She giggles, catching her breath. “Just be your usual, confident self, and I’ll help you. Okay?”

You nod, leaning in for another kiss, trying to find your footing again—okay then. You could do this.

Your lips trail down to her jaw, then lower, planting kisses across her neck, pausing as you feel the subtle hitch of her breath. You take note of how her chest rises, how her skin tastes faintly sweet and a little salty from the heat building between you. You kiss just above the line of her top—a neckline she always wore, part of her style.

Her outfit tonight isn’t complicated, something you’re thankful for. You fumble slightly with the tiny clip and zipper, but manage to undo them while still kissing her slowly, deeply. She hums into your mouth as her top gets taken off, and with her arms wrapped around your neck, she lets you pull it off completely.

Her chest is now bare before you, perky and flushed. The sight alone has your mouth going dry. ‘Be your confident self.’

“You're so sexy,” you whisper, brushing soft kisses along the curve of her chest until your lips reach one of her nipples. You swirl your tongue around it, hearing her gasp and then sigh, gripping your hair as her back arches slightly.

“That feels nice,” she breathes, and you glance up at her with a lazy smirk, lips still connected to her skin. “Doesn’t it?” you tease, bringing a hand up to pinch and play with the other. She groans, her breath shaky.

“Don’t tease me~” she mutters in a warning tone, but her body betrays her, hips subtly rolling up. “Don’t tell me what to do. Didn’t you want this?”

It comes out low, with a tone she wasn’t expecting—and she’s visibly shaken by it, in a good way, you could almost hope. The smirk on your lips turns a little wicked, a change of heart in a way. She watches you like you’ve just become a different person.

Her thighs rub together, the friction audible as she moves under you, and you notice how restricted her legs are from the skirt.

“Oh, this can’t do,” you murmur, sitting up and gazing down at her. She tilts her head to ask what you mean, but you're already pushing her skirt higher. She lets out a soft yelp when it bunches at her hips.

Her eyes narrow, but your grin only widens. “It was in the way.”

Your finger presses against her clothed center, dragging upward slowly, and you feel her hips buck slightly when you reach her clit. “Fuck~” she mutters, jaw going slack. You raise your brow, encouraged.

Then her voice dips in a more commanding way, “I need your fingers now.” The urgency in her tone surprises you a bit. You shift again, reaching under her to tug down her underwear. Her wetness is immediately visible, clinging as the fabric is pulled away, and the sight makes your own thighs clench involuntarily.

She watches you react, stunned, and giggles. “Are you just gonna sit there or—”

You don’t let her finish. You lean down, swiping your tongue up her slit. It felt right doing it despite being your first time, and the moan that spills from her lips is the confirmation you needed.

You lick again, slower, and smirk when you hear the tiny gasp she lets out. “If I knew pussy tasted this good, I would’ve added it to my timeline,” you admit, causing her to laugh breathily before gasping again when your tongue flicks her clit.

Manon’s hand threads through your hair, guiding your head, and you feel her push you deeper. You grin against her, tongue curling into her entrance, flicking, sucking, tasting.

“Shit,” she moans. Her body jolts slightly with each movement of your tongue

Her fingers slip up her own stomach to her chest, playing with her nipples while your tongue works harder. You’re in awe of her—how her praise seems to have control over you.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” she breathes, and that’s all it takes for you to kick it up a notch. Your tongue flicks faster, and you tease her entrance with one finger. Her hips jerk, trembling slightly.

You slide it in, slowly at first. “Holy shit,” she whines, voice cracking as her pussy clenches around you. You close your eyes, tasting her, feeling her. Deciding it was a good time to put another finger in, she gasps.

You look up—she’s staring at you now, eyes looking drunk yet focused. Your fingers curl, and she spreads her legs wider. You pump faster, now fully comfortable, and she can tell she did what needed to be done. The pace gets sloppy but only because of her wet pussy, and when her thighs start to shake, you pull away, smirking as her juices shine on your chin.

“Be a good girl and keep these open wide, yeah?” The tone in your voice makes her shiver. Her eyes flutter, and you prop yourself up between her legs, holding her thighs apart with your knees as your fingers dive back in.

“Too good,” she mumbles, barely holding herself up. Her head falls back, biting her lip to stay quiet. That wasn’t about to work in your book; you wanted to hear her.

“I want to hear you, Ms. Bannerman. I wanna hear how you sound for me~.” She opens her mouth to argue, but a third finger slips in, and she screams.

“Fuck!” her voice echoes in your apartment. You feel her thighs adding pressure to your knees as she instinctively wants to close them.

“Y-your nei-neighbors—” she tries to protest, panting. You lean in, lips near hers, fingers still buried deep. “I couldn’t give two fucks about my neighbors. I want to hear you.”

You kiss her slowly, then pull away to whisper, “If only you could see yourself right now. The sweat, the way your eyes roll back.” You glance at the mirror on the opposite wall, then realize a great idea you could do.

You pulled your fingers out and dragged her toward it. She stumbles, surprised, and her legs nearly buckle. You stand behind her, and she stares into the reflection in the mirror above the drawer, her face flushed and fucked-out with her pussy glistening from you lights.

“What are you—?” You silence her with a hand on her neck, guiding her chin. “Now you can see how pretty you look for me.”

Your other hand sneaks between her legs again, rubbing her pussy slowly. “Can you hear how wet you are?”

You slip a finger in. The sound is undeniably loud as you both hear it in the silence of your apartment. “This cunt all wet for me, hm?”

She whimpers. You cup one breast, teasing her nipple again. “All wet for you,” she admits.

“Is that so?” You slip three fingers in and she gasps again, knees almost buckling.

She reaches for support on your drawers, but you keep her in place. “Eyes forward, brat.” She stares, half stunned, half delirious, at the new nickname. You hold her upright, pumping steadily.

“You’re a brat, right? That’s why you kissed me first.” She nods. You chuckle, kissing her neck. “Why’d you do it, hm?”

“I-I found y-you hot and I f-felt like you could r-ruin me.” You raise your brow, smirking. “Am I fitting the standard?”

“More t-than you know.” That had you pump faster, and her thighs began to tremble. “Holy fuck, Y/n,” she moans, voice breaking. You lean against her, murmuring in her ear. “Wanna cum?”

She nods desperately. “Hold it,” you tell her, and she’s left-mouthed open in shock at your words. You drop to your knees behind her, tongue replacing your fingers. You want her to break for you.

“Y-Y/n I can’t—” she cries. You hum in response, dragging your tongue over her clit again and again. “I-I can’t hold it—”

You pull back, your fingers going in again. “Go ahead, baby.”

She cums with a cry, legs giving out as she collapses onto her knees, forehead pressed to the storage.

You back away, licking your lips, breath ragged. “That good enough for you?” you ask, amused. “More than enough,” she mumbles.

You grin, lifting her with ease and carrying her to the couch, laying her down as she’s surprisingly really light.

“What do we do about Marcos?” You ask, still worried despite the crazy moment that just happened between the two of you, and you settle down to take a break. “I’ll handle him, don’t worry about it. I told you,” she voiced, very assuring in her words, but then you look down a bit.

“Then how about us?”

She smiles while looking at you, taking her hand in hers, which makes you look over. “I told you I wanted you, and I meant that, Y/n.” You smiled, seeing how serious she was.

“Well, as long as you actually handle Marcos, I’m up for it… just don’t get me fired,” you joked at the hand, elbows up as she nudges you while laughing.

She was going to make this happen. Breaking the contract, running away with you, doesn’t really matter. Manon is just determined to make it happen for you.

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mrtelevisionlover · 7 months ago

Note

can i request a chrismd one where you where one if the girls in the 20 women vs 1 youtuber football edition and fans start to ship you two? even the guys haha! loving your work btw!!

Yes!! Loved writing this, enjoy!

(Can you tell I know nothing about football?)

words: 1500+

Style

When Y/n got a DM from Chris’ manager asking her to be in this video, she wasn’t too sure what to think. She wasn’t very lucky in the dating scene, only going on a few first dates, and had never had a boyfriend. She didn’t really want to embarrass herself in front of his millions of subscribers but she had been a fan of his work for a while and had always wanted to meet him so…why not?

The morning of, she was very nervous. She had bought a new shirt to wear, and paired it with some shorts. She braided her hair into a simple french braid and stepped into some worn out trainers. She decided to go without makeup, as she was probably going to sweat it off. Also the weather outside was horrible and she didn’t want mascara dripping down her face…And she was late for the train.

When she arrived on the pitch, she saw 19 other girls, all very pretty. She suddenly felt insecure, especially as no-one was talking to her. She decided to go over her pickup line, seeing as that would be his first impression of her.

Soon, the cameras started rolling and one by one, the girls would introduce themselves to Chris and his two friends, Calfreezy and ArthurTV. Eventually, it was just her left. She watched Chris say goodbye to Loretta, who she eventually learnt had been on a few dates with Chris already. Once his manager gave her the green light, she walked over to the table.

“Wow-Hello!” Chris smiles. He takes a moment to look at her face, admiring her.

“Hi! I’m Y/n and uh…Can you be your striker? I'm only aiming for your heart.” Y/n giggles slightly, and the sound brings blush to Chris’ cheeks.

“Aww, that’s quite sweet.” Arthur coos.

Freezy pauses, then points, nodding his head. “You know what, I like it.”

Chris shakes his head slightly, and presses a hand to his cheek. “Are you any good at football?”

“I play with my dog sometimes?...” She shrugs, embarrassment painting her cheeks slightly.

“Oh…Okay. Well, I wish you the best of luck.” He smiles.

“Thank you!” She takes a few steps away from the ball before running towards it and kicking it with all her might. Unfortunately, the ball narrowly misses the goal, and goes over the top.

“Ooh! That was good, I’ll give you that.” Chris exclaims, clapping his hands together in celebration.

Cal sighs, “That almost made it too.”

“I’m actually surprised I got it that close. I thought it’d end up behind me.” Y/n gasps as two hands cover her mouth. She was quite awful at football and really surprised herself.

“So, what’s the verdict?” Arthur looks towards Chris in anticipation. He knows Chris already likes her, he can see the look in his eye– it was the same in school.

“Yeah, you’re through.” He smiles. Freezy takes note that this is the widest he’s smiled so far.

“Really? Thank you!” Y/n does a little jump before waving goodbye. She walks over to the rest of the girls where they actually start to talk to her. She starts talking to Rose, an American streamer who flew all the way over to be on this video. She seemed to really like Chris and Y/n started to get a little nervous, Rose was very pretty.

“She seems really sweet.” Arthur whispers to Chris as you walk away.

“She’s really pretty too.” Chris blushes, sending a shy smile towards him.

Freezy perks up, “Uh-oh, Chris is falling already.” He laughs.

Soon after, they moved into round two. Twelve girls remained, Y/n included, and they had three free kicks. Chris, Freezy, and Arthur stood in a line a few metres in front of the goal while the girls aimed for it, the 3 of them often getting hit.

“Hello Y/n.” Chris beams. Cal laughs at him while Arthur nudges his shoulder.

“Hi again.” She smiles, waving to the 3 of them. She’s incredibly nervous. She worries her luck has run out and has a bad feeling she’s going to hit one of them.

“Any technique you're aiming for?”

“Um…To score? Hopefully” She laughs. Chris giggles, Arthur and Freezy give each other a look

“Okay, Well…Best of luck.” He smiles.

Y/n steps back from the ball, lets out a little breath, and kicks the ball. It goes over their heads, and misses the goal. “Aww, come on!”

“It’s alright, you got two more!”

She kicks the ball again, she uses less power and it rolls towards the goal slowly. Arthur lets out a little laugh and Chris hits his chest with a scowl.

“One more, give it some power!”

“Okay.” She mutters to herself as she walks back to the line. “Just score one, please.” She whispers, closing her eyes.

Y/n lets out another little breath before kicking the ball with all her strength. She watches the ball fly through the air and…Hit Chris right in the groin.

Arthur screams, “OHH!” as Chris falls to the floor, Calfeezy struggling to breathe from laughter.

“Oh my-Are you okay!?” Y/n quickly runs towards him, leaning down to check on him.

“There goes my ability to have kids.” He groans, rolling on the floor.

“I am so sorry, I didn’t even know I could do that-” She apologises as her face is flooded in guilt.

“It’s okay, I’m okay.” Chris slowly gets up, Y/n helping him.

“Are you sure? I’m just gonna go-”

“No! You’re through.”

“Wait, what!?” Cal exclaims as Arthur gives the camera a look of bewilderment.

“Really?” She gasps.

“Yeah, you’re really sweet.” Chris rubs his hand down her arm, soothing her slightly.

“Oh, thank you. Again, I’m really sorry.” Y/n face plants as she walks away, her face flushed with embarrassment.

“You are insane.” Arthur mutters.

“What can I say, I really like her.” Chris shrugs, then wincing

For the third round, the nine remaining girls had to show a talent. Y/n watched girls throw and kick footballs, recite poems, and participate in an arm wrestling contest. She decided to do some gymnastics, as that was the only thing she could come up with.

“Hello Y/n, what will you be showing us today?”

“I will be doing some gymnastics.”

“Oh cool! Ready when you are.”

She starts by doing a handstand, then holding it for a few seconds before falling into a bridge. She stands up and does a simple cartwheel, then falls into the splits. She hears the guys cheering her on and she giggles slightly. She decides to finish it off with a few flips, landing in front of the table.

“Wow…” Chris stares in awe.

“That was so cool” Arthur exclaimed, shaking Chris slightly.

“It’s a yes!”

“Really? Thank you! See you later.” You wave them off. Chris watches you walk off, subtly checking you out. Freezy notices this and laughs at him, smacking him over the head.

Now onto round 4. There were only five girls left and they were to be interrogated by Chris’ two friends.

“So Y/n…What is your biggest turn off?”

“Uh…Not telling me how they’re feeling. I think it’s really attractive when a man tells me how he’s feeling — whether if he’s happy or sad, I think it’s really important.” She nods.

Arthur smiles. “That’s a really good answer.”

“Yeah. I’m really open about mental health on my YouTube, I like to use my platform for good, sometimes.”

“Really? Men’s mental health is so important, I think a lot of guys watching your channel would really benefit from it.” Y/n praises.

“Thank you.” He blushes.

“Chris…What makes Y/n different to the other 4 girls?”

“She’s really sweet, and seems very genuine. She’s…alright at football and…she’s beautiful.”

“Aww” Both Cal and Arthur coo.

Y/n covers her face, her cheeks feeling warm. She peaks between her fingers to see Chris smiling nervously.

“And Y/n, what’s your favourite thing about Chris?”

“I love how much he cares. He clearly cares so much about his friends, his videos, his fans. It makes him so enjoyable to watch and honestly? He’s such an inspiration.”

“Oh wow.” Chris breathes, his heart skpping a beat.

“Right were running out of time but quickly—rate each other out of ten.” Calfreezy interrupts, turning to the two.

“Ten.” “Ten!”

“Really?” “Really?” They both stare at each other in surprise, blushing blooming on their cheeks.

“Chris? A ten?” Arthur teases.

“What? I really like his hair, and his freckles.” Y/n tuns to Chris and takes a moment, looking at all his features. “And he has a really lovely personality.”

“So…It’s Y/n and Rose, right? Those 2 you were smiling the entire time.“

“Yeah…Yeah, it’s them.”

“So…We’ve made a decision and we’ve decided to put Y/n and Rose into the final.”

“Woo!” The rest of the girls clap.

Both girls did rock, paper, scissors to decide who was starting first and Y/n won. Chris held an Umbrella over her head as he led her to the goal.

“So uh…What baby names do you like?”

“I like classic ones like Charlotte, or Henry.”

“Oh nice. I like Heather.”

“Aww, that’s really cute. How many kids do you want?”

“As many as my wife will have, I don’t mind.”

Y/n smiles and realizes she's at the line. She says a little goodbye and watches him walk away.

Eventually, Rose had scored 2 out of her 4 tries, and Y/n only had scored 1 out of her three. If she wanted a chance, she’d have to score. Y/n stands in front of the ball and closes her eyes, and slows down her breathing. She shakes her hands, stretches her neck, and kicks the ball.

She watches the ball fly through the sky, miss the goalie, and hit the net! She hears the guys celebrate behind her and realises she’s back in the game.

She then watches Rose hit the ball for the final time, and watches as it narrowly misses the goal. Y/n hears gasps next to her as someone shakes her shoulders.

“If you score this, you win! No pressure though.” Arthur smiles at her sheepishly. She nods, still in shock. Y/n turns to Chris as she walks away and he gives her a reassuring smile, and a thumbs up.

Y/n turns to the ball and eyes up the goal. She lets out one final breath and kicks the ball. It feels like everything is going in slow-motion, and she can’t watch anymore. She turns around and covers her eyes, only opening them when all 3 guys scream in excitement.

She turns back around to see the ball in the goal and she gasps. “I did it!” Chris runs over and gives her a hug, congratulating her in her ear. She hugs him back, and squeals in surprise when he picks her up. Chris then gives her a gold envelope with a lot of money inside.

“No-I can’t keep this.” Y/n tries to give him back the envelope but he puts up his hands

“Yes you can, you won.”

“No-” She tries.

“Yes.”

“A date with you is the prize.” She pleads.

He smiles, before pushing the envelope back in her hands.

The video then cuts to them both skipping into the distance, with cute music playing over the top. It then fades, the video ending.

Comments: usera: Hello!? The chemestry between the two? SO glad she won

userb: rose was robbed tbh

userc: DOES ANYONE KNOW IF THEY ACTUALLY WENT ON A DATE I NEED TO KNOW!!

userd: who's wating for arthurs ai generated comment?

usere: you could see how much chris liked her from the start. who knew he was such a blushy boy!?

userf: so cute! Hope to see her in other videos

userg: him picking her up at the end? they better be together

userh: her talking about men's mental health? chris, she's a keeper!

Well, I hope you like it. My first real fic, done!! also, ignore any mistakes, i'll go over them tomorrow x

#chrismd #chrismd x reader #british youtubers #arthurtv #calfreezy #chris dixon #arthur frederick #george clarkey x reader #arthur frederick x reader #arthur hill #w2s x reader #george clarke x reader #george clarkey #arthur tv #george clarke

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thedensworld · 3 months ago

Text

Play Pretend | c.hs

Pairing: dad Vernon! X reader

Genre: Dad au!

Type: fluff

Words Count: 1.8k

Summary: The daughter's play pretend is getting too real and stressing her. As her dad, who plays with her—he's stressing too.

Choi Anne, Vernon’s daughter, had inherited something that he immediately recognized as coming from you—the way she loved to talk to herself or have conversations with her toys. It was a sign of her boundless imagination, something Vernon had noticed from the moment you’d started asking those playful what if questions.

Anne loved her own company. Vernon often found himself on the couch, remote in hand, watching her with the dopiest smile on his face. Every time Anne asked Mr. Monkey if the tea was to his liking or if Sister Unicorn was having a hard time with her bowel movement, he couldn’t help but laugh. It was definitely something she picked up from you, your daily habit of turning simple moments into little adventures with your words.

"How’s the breakfast, baby? Is it to your liking?" Anne asked seriously, as if it were the most important question of the day.

Vernon chuckled quietly to himself, feeling a rush of warmth.

"Oh no, my baby’s having a hard time pooping... We’ll eat more fruit later, okay?"Anne continued, as though solving a great crisis, her face a mix of concern and concentration.

It was clear where she got it from—those moments when you, too, would talk out loud, running through all the little things that kept your world turning.

And then, Anne took it to a new level. Sitting on the carpet, just a meter away from where Vernon was sitting—remote still in hand, TV playing his favorite show—he found himself more entertained by the scene unfolding before him than the program on screen. Mr. Monkey, apparently, had eaten too much sugar and was now having a heart attack.

"Oh no, Mr. Monkey... Hang in there, we’re calling an ambulance!" Anne exclaimed, her voice filled with dramatic urgency.

Vernon nodded in acknowledgment, trying not to laugh out loud as he watched her grab her "phone"—a block phone she’d fashioned herself—and pretend to dial emergency services.

“We have a patient here, Mr. Monkey, he’s having a heart attack!” Anne declared with all the seriousness of a seasoned professional.

Vernon chuckled, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "Address first, baby," he said, glancing over at Anne.

His daughter tilted her head in confusion, her brow furrowing as she processed his request. "Address?" she repeated, as if trying to decode a new puzzle. After a brief pause, she confidently declared, "Mmm... Address is... at home?"

Vernon couldn’t help but laugh, nodding approvingly. "Yes! You’re right. We’re heading there now, Ms. Choi," he added, his tone suddenly taking on the role of an emergency dispatcher.

A thought crossed his mind, and Vernon got up to head toward Anne’s bedroom. He returned moments later, holding the a car toy ambulance Seungkwan had gifted Anne for her third birthday the previous year.

"Be careful, daddy," Anne warned, her voice filled with concern as she eyed the toy. "One of the wheels is off."

Vernon glanced down at the ambulance and found that she was right—only three wheels remained. "Hmm, there were only three. Where’s the other one, Anne?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Anne simply shrugged, holding Mr. Monkey close to her chest. "I don’t know... It’s been like that for a long time, daddy."

A lightbulb of an idea flickered to life in Vernon’s head. He glanced down at the toy ambulance, then back at his daughter, who was still cradling Mr. Monkey as if he were a real patient.

“I don’t know if we can bring Mr. Monkey to the hospital with an ambulance like this, baby,” he mused, tapping the toy with a thoughtful expression.

Anne’s eyes darted to the ambulance, then back to Mr. Monkey, a clear conflict playing out in her little face. She tightened her hold on the stuffed toy, rocking him gently. “What should we do?” she mumbled, though it was more to herself than to her father.

Then, as if struck by inspiration, she gasped. "I’ll find it!"

Her head shot up with determination, her tiny fingers clenching into fists like she was about to embark on a great adventure. Carefully, she laid Mr. Monkey down on the carpet, as if ensuring his comfort, then bolted toward her room in search of the missing wheel.

Vernon blinked, not having expected this turn of events. He inhaled sharply, about to call her name, but before he could get a word out, her bedroom door slammed shut with an emphatic bang.

He exhaled slowly, pressing his fingers to his temple. “That’s... not what I expected,” he muttered under his breath.

This play pretend was starting to feel a little too real.

Five minutes passed. Then ten.

Vernon was starting to worry that his daughter might be building an entirely new house in her bedroom at this rate. She had been in there far too long, completely immersed in her search for the missing ambulance wheel.

Curious—and slightly concerned—he walked over and peeked inside, only to find Anne surrounded by a small mountain of dolls and stuffed animals, each one pulled from its usual place as if the wheel might have been hiding among them all along.

"Baby... Anne," Vernon called gently, stepping closer. "We can keep playing even without that one wheel, you know."

Anne spun around to face him, her little face scrunched in frustration, her hair now a wild mess from constantly brushing it away in her frantic search.

"But what if something bad happens on the way to the hospital?" she argued, clutching the hem of her dress tighter. "What if—what if something bad happens to Mr. Monkey?"

Vernon let out a slow breath, offering his daughter a reassuring smile. "Trust me, baby, nothing bad is going to happen," he said, his voice soft and steady.

Though, in his head, all he really wanted to say was, Because this is just play pretend, so maybe don’t take it this seriously?

But Anne wasn’t having it.

"No, let me find it first, Daddy. I promise I’ll find it."

Seeing her so determined, Vernon sighed and leaned against the doorframe, watching as his daughter stressed over something so small. And somehow, watching her stress out… was starting to stress him out too.

"You find it yet, baby?" he asked after a few moments.

"Not yet," she huffed, still rummaging through her toys.

Minutes passed.

"Found it?"

"Nope."

Vernon sighed again, rubbing his face. Just as Vernon was about to ask again, the sound of the front door opening caught his attention. You were home.

He glanced at Anne, who was still deep in her search mission, completely unaware of anything else. Letting out a small sigh, he pushed himself up from the doorframe and walked out of the room to greet you.

As you set your bag down, you looked up to see Vernon approaching—alone.

Your brow furrowed. "Where’s Anne?"

Vernon exhaled dramatically, shaking his head. "She’s been in her room for the past ten minutes looking for a missing wheel on her toy ambulance. She refuses to come out until she finds it."

You blinked. "…What?"

Vernon ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah. Mr. Monkey had a heart attack, and apparently, the ambulance isn’t safe to use unless it has all four wheels. So now, instead of actually playing, she’s turned it into a full-scale search and rescue operation."

You tried to hold back a laugh, but the sheer seriousness on his face made it impossible. "She really is your daughter," you teased, slipping off your shoes.

Vernon groaned, rubbing his face. "I know. And she’s stressing herself out so much that it’s stressing me out."

You smirked, shaking your head as you walked past Vernon toward the living room. "You know... I think I might know where that missing wheel is."

Vernon narrowed his eyes, following you as you crouched in front of the TV cabinet. "Wait—what?"

Without a word, you reached out, opened one of the cabinet doors, and rummaged through the random collection of small toys, puzzle pieces, and forgotten treasures Anne had stashed away over time. And there it was—a tiny, slightly dusty plastic wheel, sitting right next to a crayon and a stray hair tie.

Holding it up between your fingers, you turned to Vernon with an amused expression. "You really don’t know your daughter’s habits, do you?"

Vernon stared at the wheel, then at you, then back at the wheel again. He exhaled, half relieved, half exasperated. "I knew I should’ve checked there first," he muttered.

You chuckled, tossing the wheel to him. "Go on, hero. Go save Mr. Monkey."

Vernon caught it effortlessly, shaking his head with a tired smile. "I swear, this girl gets her dramatics from you."

"Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that," you said, grinning as you followed him back to Anne’s room.

Just as Anne was about to attach the wheel to her little ambulance, she suddenly froze. Her tiny hands turned the piece over, inspecting it closely.

Anne sighed dramatically, holding up the wheel with a disappointed look. "Oh no..."

You and Vernon exchanged glances before he crouched down beside her. "What is it?"

"It’s broken, Daddy," Anne groaned, showing him the crack in the plastic. "That’s why I put it away! It wouldn’t stay on."

You sighed, shaking your head with a smile. "So after all that searching, we still can’t fix the ambulance?"

Anne nodded, frowning. "Now how will we take Mr. Monkey to the hospital?"

Vernon rubbed his temples, looking amused but exhausted. "Anne, baby, you could’ve told me this before turning your whole room upside down."

Anne gave him a sheepish look. "But I really forgot."

She suddenly clapped her hands together, eyes lighting up with a new idea. "Wait! I think it’s okay to drive Mr. Monkey to the hospital with three wheels!" she declared confidently.

Anne placed her hands on her hips, looking very serious. "Well... sometimes cars have accidents and they lose a wheel, but they still keep moving, right?"

You bit back a laugh as Vernon sighed out his stress.

"We just have to drive really slowly! Like this!" She crouched down and started pushing the ambulance across the floor at an exaggerated snail’s pace. "Vrooooom... but slooooowly... vroooom..."

You couldn't hold back your laughter this time. "That’s very responsible of you, baby. Slow and safe!"

Vernon watched her with an amused smirk. "I guess Mr. Monkey’s life is in good hands, then."

Anne nodded seriously. "Of course! I’ll be the best ambulance driver ever." She carefully placed Mr. Monkey inside, patting his head. "Hang in there, buddy, we're going to the hospital... but very carefully."

Vernon leaned toward you, lowering his voice. "So we went through all that stress for nothing?"

You shrugged, grinning. "At least she figured it out on her own."

Vernon sighed, watching his daughter inch the ambulance along at a painfully slow speed. "I should’ve known. She’s definitely your daughter."

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #densworld🌼#seventeen scenarios #seventeen series #seventeen drabbles #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #svt dad!au #densworld dad au!#vernon fanfic #vernon oneshot #vernon fluff #vernon imagines

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lemon-berri · 5 months ago

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Perfume (pt 2)

Satoru has been quiet today. Gone is the usual chatter, the jokes about how his day went. He watches you silently, eyes swimming with a well of emotions.

Every so often, he opens his mouth like he's going to say something. Only to pause, and retreat back into himself.

Life without you for this long has left him broken. He is tired, a husk of a man just going through the motions of daily life. Every day that he wakes without you by his side, he feels a deep, agonising pain in his chest. Like someone has taken out a vital organ and he's fighting to survive.

But he puts on a brave face, for his students, for his friends. For you. He talks to you in a happy tone whenever he visits, just in case you can hear him. Because he doesn't want you to worry unnecessarily.

Though, knowing you, you'd see right through his act.

His eyes trail across the room to the window, he can't tell you this. At least not while he looks at you.

"I had another meeting with the higher ups today.."

Again, hes met with silence. The only response is the gentle sound of your breathing. He has no idea if you're listening but he goes on.

"It's been three months without you now. In case you haven't been keeping track." There's a chuckle, but there's no humour behind it. Rather it's a dark, hopeless sound. "I've been refusing all overseas missions, how can I go anywhere knowing you're...." he can't find the right words. You're not exactly hurt, there's no physical injuries on you. Sleeping seems too simple. Coma too medical -and saying it out loud would make this nightmare too real.

His crystal eyes flit back towards you, only to move down to the floor.

"The pressure built up. They've ordered me to go. I'll be leaving tomorrow, and I'll be gone a week."

"But don't worry. You won't be alone. Everyone promised they'd come to visit you, I made sure of it. I wouldn't want my angel to get lonely without me, yeah?" Satoru tries another chuckle, but this one comes out more like a sob, and he quickly covers his mouth.

He's torn up. He doesn't want to leave your bedside, he'd rather watch the world burn than leave your side. But duty calls, and your friends promised they'd be here. Shoko promised she'd keep him updated too, in case there were any changes.

Satoru is quiet for a little longer, looking at you now, the way your pretty lashes brush against your skin, the way your lips part ever so gently. You're so beautiful it hurts, and the guilt in his stomach is making him feel sick. But he has to go.

Finally, he gets up, brushing a soft kiss against your forehead. He refuses to say goodbye. In his mind, he'll be right back. Instead, he says.

"I love you."

Its not enough to describe the way he feels.

There are so many stairs. Too many stairs. You've gone up at least five thousand steps so far- in a winding tower that seems to stretch for eternity. But you're not tired. Because your physical form isn't here.

You've managed to figure out that this endless tower must be your consciousness. Every time you open a door, a different memory plays out in front of you like a scene in a play, and you quickly close it. The stones are strong, rough and cold. They've been through a lot, but will no doubt last for years to come.

Though you can't figure out where that floral smell is coming from.

You're not here to relive your memories though. You're not here by choice at all. By now you've figured out you're a prisoner in your own mind. And your captor..?

You hear it every so often, a distant growl, followed by a crack.

Tick.

BANG.

The sound is one of a wall being broken, and your head pounds, like you've lost some vital part of your very being.

The cursed spirit has somehow managed to trap you within your own consciousness. And it actively seems to be attempting to destroy your mind, your memories.

A weaker person would've succumbed by now, faded into nothing. But you're fighting it. For each mental brick knocked down you put up another. This will not be your end. You will survive. You have to.

You have too much to lose.

If only you could find the wretched creature and finally exorcise it.

You pause to listen, leaning your back against the cold stone wall of the tower. Time passes weirdly in here and you're sure by now people in the real world must be getting worried about you. Your guess is that you must've been in here for at least an entire day.

Tick.

Crack.

BANG.

Its not use. No matter how far you ascend it always sounds like it's coming from above you. Yet when you look up you're only met with more stairs, fading away into unknown darkness. Your gaze falls downwards instead, into the void from which you came- the stairs you've already climbed. It would be so easy to give in.. to just go back down.

The darkness beckons you. It's warm arms wrap around your limbs, it's peaceful silence calling out to you. And you feel yourself stepping towards it. But then something catches your eye.

An elaborate ring on your left hand, glimmering in the darkness. Aquamarine, like a certain pair of eyes as familiar to you as the sky, a sight like an endless ocean, your favourite sight in the world. A smile. A voice.

"I love you"

His voice. It rings out across the empty space. You stop moving.

Satoru... You can't give up. Not when he's waiting for you.

Youre sprinting across the stairs now, faster and faster. Weightless with your new found determination. Theres no pain, no fear. You'll survive because you have to.

Finally there's a light, the tower opens at the top into a rotunda- nothing but an endless, cloudless sky stretching beyond. This must be it, the very core of your soul.

A hiss sounds behind you, and you whip around, already ready to attack.

You will survive.

Satoru gets back from a long day of trying to track down a special grade. So out of it that he doesn't even remember what country he's in.

Singapore? Sri Lanka? It was something with an "S" anyway.

He flops his full weight down onto the hotel bed, letting out a deep exhale. His limbs stretch out, and his heavy eyelids start to close, when he hears a buzz.

The man groans, long limbs turning lethargically. He reaches for his phone, cracking one eye open lazily to look. Who could be contacting him at this time anyway-

He almost drops the phone on his face.

23 missed calls from Shoko.

His tiredness evaporates, and he sits up instantly, fumbling with his phone to quickly call her back. As soon as Shoko picks up he starts talking.

"Shoko. Hi. What is it? Is everything alright? Is she okay-"

"Satoru." Shoko interrupts him. "She's awake."

I wasn't originally planning a part 2 to this, but I was so moved by the amount of people who enjoyed part 1 that I had a burst of inspiration to write this! So thank you all 🩵

Pt1 Pt 3

I might do a part 3 where they reunite finally. I just like cliffhanger endings and I didn't want this to get too long.

I had a skim through to check for spelling but as usual if anyone points out my mistakes I'll crash out. 🩵

🩵Thank you for reading 🩵

Dividers by @bunnysrph

🌟Tag list🌟 @seternic @hel1nn

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #dose of angst #gojo angst #angsty #gojo x reader angst #angst #angst with a happy ending #gojo #satoru gojo #angel boy #part 2

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sare-nim · 3 months ago

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I realized I haven't posted often-

So this is a apology cake thats a one-shot hope you can enjoy it.

THE FIRST LIE

Light Milk Cookie walked through the garden of his academy. The bushes perfectly cut the flowers bloom beautifully the sun casting its light over the beautiful garden making the scene more majestic.

He can't help but smile softly as he looked at the scene. The only thing that brought him peace is this garden, his exhaustion slowly leaving his mind. This garden is one he treasures quite a lot. The peace is broken by the sound of footsteps coming behind him causing the blue colored cookie to turn around and his mismatched eyes took the sight of you.

You wore your normal outfit that's ironed so it would look perfect. Your hair is like silk shining under the sun light. His eyes admire you while you ran up to him only to wrap your arms around him in a hug.

A hug that spread a warm feeling through his dough into his soul jam. His eyes look down at your bit smaller form as he then shrunk his form so you could snuggle into his neck just how you like it. Wrapping his arms around your body holding you close. He can only hope he can make you feel the same warmth he feels from your hug.

You kiss his neck giggling softly as you look up through your long eyelashes watching his expression change into a slight flustered one. His cheeks having turn a beautiful shade of a deeper blue that had too corrupted his ears. He presses a kiss on the crown of your head now making you blush while smiling brightly in response.

He held your body that's leaking jam his hands trembling his eyes wide shining with unshed tears. Your eyes that shone so brightly loosing life ever so slightly while your legs tremble unable to support you for longer. The arrow that was ment to pierce through his body instead was piercing yours. His whole being frozen in pure shock and terror the world has stopped for him.

“Forgive me Light Milk Cookie…for not being able to live alongside you-”

A cough interrupted your speech deep red jam rolls out of your mouth down your chin until it soaks into your clothes but you continued talking not putting much thought into the jam. Light Milk cookie snapped out of his frozen state. He tighten his grip onto you. Your legs gave up on you causing him to fall onto his knees. He looked at your wound the arrow still in you he uses his fingers to press around the arrow to hopefully stop the bleeding but he should have realized sooner it was stupid as the arror had pieces through you stomach the sharp peak peaking out of your other side of your body.

“S-Stop! Your not dying no!...look at me just focuse on breathing-”

His words are cut off by your breathy words. Your eyes looking at him with love even if their light are dimming. You put all of your strength on your arm raising it to cup his cheek your thumb rubbing circles onto the dough of his cheek.

“I-I…love you…so live for me Light Milk Cookie…”

Light Milk Cookies breath caught onto his throat. The non shedding tears escape his eyes rolling down his cheeks he raises his hand to hold yours only for your hand to fall limb before he could. His hand froze mid air as his eyes took in the moment when your light of life truly left your body.

“Y/N?...Y/N cookie…Y/N cookie!..Y/n cookie!!”

His cry ecos through the empty forest while tears rolled down his face. He holds your body while he cried in agony

“Oh silly vanilly~! I shall give you the grand proposal of healing my true star!”

He happily chirps his voice filled with fake delight not giving time for truthless to respond before teleporting him into the most secured place in the tower of deceit.

He flew towards a bed that's covered in curtains that hid what's inside. Truthless let's out a annoyed huff his empty eyes looked at the beast with irritation.

“I won't participate on this game your playing-”

His words are cut off when he saw the being who was hidden by the curtains of the bed. On the large bed lays but a simple looking cookie with their eyes closed, their dough deprived of life but their body in perfect condition.

He approached the bed looking down at the cookie with slight confusion in his emotionless eyes the beast then spoke up.

“Aren't they so charming! I was able to keep their body frozen in time…”

Truthless wasn't listening to Shadow milk cookies words too focused on the body on the bed. He stretched his hand placing it on your hand that was cold he felt it…the void of life in you.

“They're dead.”

He informed sharply the beast who froze at those words. His words coming into a halt a silence followed them only for the beast to snap.

“Of course you would say that! Why did I think you would be a smart little cookie? They're not dead. I know they aren't!”

He said with his usual cheerful voice his act of happiness coming back. Truthless looked at him with unhidden disgust.

“Their dead…they should be buried-”

Truthless is cut off by Shadow milk who's face has earned a expression of pure anger.

“They are not DEAD!! You stupid cookies don't see it but they're alive! Just wounded.”

He responded with venom lacing his words. His hair floating in the air with an aura of anger using his powers to teleport truthless away from the room he treasured.

He huffed before flying close to you sitting on the bed edge stretched out his hand holding your cheek.

“They're all trying to lie to me. Can you believe it starlight?...you will wake up I know you will.”

Oh my-

Sorry, I should have said it was a poisoned cake.

#shadow milk crk #cr kingdom #shadow milk cookie #light milk cookie #shadow milk x reader #reader insert #fluff #im not mentally stable

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daisynik7 · 2 years ago

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Cure for a Hangover

Pairing: Kishibe x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~3.9k

cw: next-door neighbor Kishibe, age gap (I’m thinking at least fifteen years, Kishibe pushing mid-forties, reader is in her late 20s/early 30s), alcohol consumption, p*rn no plot, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl), blowjob, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, nipple play, pet names (sweetheart, angel, kiddo)

Summary: Kishibe is your mysterious, brooding, and significantly older next-door neighbor. You’ve lived beside him for a while now, only exchanging basic pleasantries out of politeness, never anything more. One night, he comes home drunk, or so he thinks. It’s not his door he’s slumped again; it’s yours.

Author’s Notes: It’s been a minute since I wrote for Kishibe and I really do miss it. This old man continues to do wonders to me, so I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks! MDNI divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

Taglist: @batafuraikisu @neverlandlostchild @bloompompom @dprkento @a-listaire @man-knees @demonwoman (bc Kishibe using kiddo as a pet name is living in my head rent free thanks to you)

part 3 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

It’s not often that you’re met with a man slumped against your door, but here you are, staring down at your next-door neighbor, Kishibe, doing just that.

It’s past two in the morning now, and you’ve just come back from your own night out with your friends. You’re not nearly as drunk as you were three hours ago, after pounding glasses of Chardonnay while watching cheesy romance movies at your best friend’s apartment. And you’re certainly not as inebriated as the man before you, who absolutely reeks of liquor, even from a small distance away.

You inspect the scene thoroughly, unsure what to do in this scenario. Kishibe is basically a stranger to you. Sure, you’ve exchanged basic pleasantries here and there over that past year since you moved in. That’s as far as it goes. You have no idea what his profession is, though you have a solid guess as to what it could be, given his work attire and overall physique. While you’ve never run into one yourself, devils run rampart in Tokyo, hell-bent on causing chaos wherever they spawn. Kishibe looks like a Devil Hunter, whose job is to eliminate these monsters. It’s intriguing, that’s for sure, but you’ve never mustered the courage to ask him about it, leaving him to maintain his mysterious demeanor.

However, right now, you don’t see a Devil Hunter in front of you. Instead, it’s a simple man who is very drunk and very much in your way.

Deciding to help him, because that’s the only choice you have if you want to get into your apartment, you kneel down to search his overcoat, patting the breast pocket for keys. When you find nothing, you move to his pants, retrieving only his phone. His eyes are closed and he’s snoring, blissfully unaware of your predicament in his drunken stupor. You take this time to study his face. He’s looks much older up close; not only that, he’s even more handsome than you originally thought. There’s a prominent scar running from his mouth to his jaw, surely an interesting story behind it. You’re tempted to trace it delicately with your finger, but you ultimately resist the urge, snapping out of it to investigate his phone for any clues.

There are several missed calls and texts from a person named Kenji. You use the Face ID feature to unlock his phone, thanking the universe that even with his eyes shuts, it works. Not wanting to pry more than necessary, you check the most recent texts for the answer to your question: Where the hell are his keys?

Kenji: you left your keys at the bar, come back now. I’m closing up soon

Kenji: I’m not waiting for your ass

Kenji: I’m leaving, get them tomorrow

You read over the messages once more, groaning quietly to yourself at your dumb luck. Desperate now, you resort to the next logical step.

“Hey,” you say, tapping him lightly on the cheek, rousing him awake. “Kishibe.”

Slowly, but surely, he opens his eyes, half-lidded, struggling to focus on you. “Huh?” His breath is heavy with liquor, most likely whiskey. His voice is deep and gravelly, and you hate admitting that’s it’s almost sexy. Well, not almost. It is sexy.

Letting the inappropriate thought fade, you say, “You’re at the wrong apartment. This is mine.”

He blinks three times, opening his eyes properly to stare at you, expression confused. “Am I dead?”

You bite your lip, holding back laughter. “No, you’re not.”

“Am I in heaven?”

You shake your head, repeating, “No, you’re not.”

“Then why is there any angel here with me?” He sounds sincere, and you can’t help but break out into a genuine smile.

“I’m not an angel,” you reply, giggling.

His lips curve into a cocky grin. “You sure? You look like one to me.” Cheeky bastard, hitting on you while he’s plastered. And look at you, finding it endearing when he does.

Slightly more relaxed, you slide the phone into his breast pocket, standing up to unlock your door. You can’t just leave him out here all night, so you decide to let him stay with you until he’s sober enough to call a locksmith. You jiggle the keys, turning the knob to open the door, and suddenly, there’s a loud thud, and then a delayed, “Ow.” He’s laid flat in the middle of your doorway, hitting his head on the hardwood. You feel guilty, not having the foresight to see this coming. His body is much sturdier than you anticipated.

You kneel down, apologizing. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

He winces, rubbing the back of his skull, then gives you a goofy smile. “I’ll be fine. Think I can get a kiss to make it feel better?”

You roll your eyes at him, once again unable to contain your laughter. “I’ll get you some ice. Let’s get you to the couch first, okay?”

Somehow, some way, whether it’s spurred by adrenaline or desperation to finally get some sleep in your own bed, you manage to haul him up by the armpits and drag him the short distance to your couch. You fluff a pillow and place it under his head, making it as comfortable as possible for him. “I’ll get the ice now.”

Before you can stand up, he grabs your wrist, gripping you tightly. “What about my kiss?”

“Nope. Not happening. I bet you don’t even know my name,” you challenge him.

He doesn’t respond, loosening his hold so you can get up. You fill a plastic bag with ice, returning to surround the back of his head with it. Eventually, he utters your name, eyes closed while he relaxes to your touch. He peeks at you with one eye open, waiting for you to confirm.

You nod, grinning. “So, you do know my name.”

“Can I get my kiss now?” he teases, gazing at you.

You shake your head. “Definitely not. I will not take advantage of a drunk person, that’s fucked up.”

He sighs, exhaling deeply, broad chest rising and falling. “Yeah, you’re right. I knew you were a good girl.”

You try not to hang on to those words, especially the last two, already fluttering below your belly over it. Grabbing his hand to replace yours, you instruct him to keep it there while you return to the kitchen to pour him a large glass of water. Within the short amount of time you’re gone, he falls asleep, his hand barely holding onto to the ice pack.

You smile to yourself, setting the glass of water down on the coffee table to continue attending to his minor injury. After a while, when you notice that there isn’t any bump or swelling developing, you stop icing him. He snores peacefully in a deep sleep, no sign of waking up anytime soon. As gingerly as you can, you remove his overcoat, draping it over the back of the couch. You set his phone next to the glass of water, for easy access. His tie looks tight around his collar, so you loosen it. Finally, you remove his shoes from his feet, laying them by the front door near your own pair. You’re certain he’ll wake up in the morning, feeling like shit, so you place a bottle of painkillers by his phone in case he needs them.

It's past three now by the time you’re dressed down in your pajamas and snuggled in bed. You keep the door ajar, listening to Kishibe’s steady breathing in the living room, treating it like white noise to help you fall fast asleep.

~~~

Kishibe wakes up with his head throbbing. He stares up at the ceiling, not recognizing it as his own. It doesn’t take long for him to realize that this isn’t his apartment.

He turns, seeing his phone, a glass of water, and a bottle of painkillers on the coffee table arm’s reach of him. Slowly, he sits up, grimacing from the pain, downing all the water in three large gulps. He checks his phone, thankfully still on its last leg of battery. It’s almost eleven on a Saturday morning and he’s sure Kenji, his bartender friend, is already awake, preparing for the day.

“Kenji,” he mutters, throat hoarse from last night’s festivities.

His friend first berates him for forgetting his keys, then laughs when Kishibe explains that somehow, some way, he managed to fall asleep on someone else’s couch. He could have woken up in worst conditions, that’s for sure.

Kenji agrees to stop by after running his errands, in about two hours or so. Beggars can’t be choosers, so Kishibe has no choice but to wait. When they’re phone conversation is over, he sinks back into the cushions, trying to piece everything together from just a few hours ago. He recalls snippets of it, and he grows increasingly embarrassed as the memories play vividly in his brain. He’s certain he called his neighbor an angel, and even more sure that he was begging her for a kiss. How shit-faced was he to compel him to do that? Obviously, very. How could he let his intrusive thoughts blurt out of his mouth like that?

Call it cliché or whatever, but yes, Kishibe is attracted his young, pretty neighbor next door. However, he’s held off on making a move because he doesn’t want to make things between them awkward. Once he crosses that line, their relationship gets more complicated. And the devil knows that Kishibe doesn’t do complicated. So, he’s content with gazing from afar, exchanging basic small talk with one another whenever they pass each other in the hallway. That’s as far as it’s gone with her, and that’s as far as it will go.

Of course, that’s all fucked up now thanks to his drunken antics from last night.

Before he can make his move, he hears a bedroom door creak open from behind him. She comes out, looking fresh out of the shower, dressed in skimpy pajama bottoms that are short enough to expose that tantalizing curve right below her ass. Surely, she’s doing this on purpose, right? She has to know how fucking sexy she looks right now, there’s no way she doesn’t.

He clears his throat, preparing to explain himself right off the bat to avoid an awkward confrontation. But he’s rendered momentarily speechless when she flashes a bright smile at him. “Morning, Kishibe.”

He huffs out a short laugh. “Morning.”

She steps towards him, sitting at the opposite end of the couch by his feet. Her shorts ride up and he’s sure he can see the lacey outline of her panties. Or maybe it’s just his perverse imagination, who knows at this point. “How are you feeling?” she asks, genuinely concerned.

He grunts. “Like shit,” he answers. “But it could be worse.”

“That’s the spirit,” she teases, patting his knee.

His head pounds from his hangover, though it’s his heartbeat that thumps loudly against his eardrums, aroused by her touch. He has got to control himself. Doing his best to distract her from the raging boner growing beneath his slacks, he asks, “What happened last night?”

She explains her account of the evening in detail, her voice soft and soothing, cautious of his current headache. She leaves out the parts where he embarrasses himself, which he’s grateful for, not wanting to relive the humiliation. When she’s done, she offers, “If you want, you can take a shower while you wait for your friend to arrive. I can get you some towels. I even have a toothbrush you can use.”

He raises a brow at her. “Are you trying to tell me I stink?”

“Do you need someone to tell you that you stink? I thought it was pretty obvious given the state you’re in,” she quips, matching his expression.

He laughs, genuinely amused by her response. “Yeah, can’t argue with that.”

She leads him into her bathroom, showing him how to work the knob for hot water, pointing out the shampoo, conditioner, and soap kept neatly on a corner shelf of her bathtub. She lingers for a bit while he starts the shower, then hands him a clean towel and new toothbrush. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Surprisingly, he makes it through his shower without succumbing to the temptation to touch himself. As degenerate as he can be, he still has some sense of respect and pride in him, enough to resist masturbating in his neighbor’s shower. He does, however, give her shampoo and conditioner bottles an extra-long sniff.

He dries off, scrubbing his hair with the towel, cleaning behind his ears with cotton swabs, checking his piercings. Towel wrapped around his waist, he brushes his teeth, making sure to go the full two minutes, scrubbing his tongue after. He hasn’t made the best impression so far, so he figures he should try to change that now, if there’s still a chance. Feeling fresh and clean, he stares down at his clothes in a pile on the floor. Even from where he stands, he can smell them, almost like they’ve been diluted in liquor and musk. Without thinking, he steps out of the bathroom, calling out her name. “Got any clothes I could borrow?”

She’s in the kitchen when he comes out, leaning over the stove as she cooks something that smells wonderful. She turns to face him, staring wide-eyed as he stands almost naked in the middle of her living room. Her gaze drifts down his bare body, lingering on his sculpted abs, then at the towel wrapped precariously around his waist. She snaps out of it in time, saying, “I don’t. Sorry.”

“My clothes fucking stink and I don’t want to wear them right now. Mind if I just walk around like this?”

“Sure. I mean, I don’t mind.” She focuses her attention back to the pan, continuing to cook what looks like scrambled eggs.

He knows this is a bizarre request, though this day couldn’t get any more bizarre than it already is, can it?

~~~

You’re not exactly sure how to refuse Kishibe’s request to walk around half naked in your apartment, so instead, you agree to it, claiming that you don’t mind. In actuality, you mind very much, simply because you can’t help but fantasize about the delicious sight beneath the towel. One wrong move like a bump to the hip is all it takes to see that pesky cover fall down. Geez, when did you become such a pervert? And for an old man?!

Desperate for a distraction, you maintain focus on the eggs in front of you. While he was in the shower, you decided to start breakfast, something hearty to combat that hangover of his. Scrambled eggs, toast, and sausage, comforting foods to soak up the remaining alcohol left in his body. He makes his way towards you, scooting a chair out from the table to take a seat. He strategically maneuvers himself to not accidentally expose you, though you really don’t mind if he does. Again, perverted thoughts, shame on you!

Finished cooking, you scoop the eggs out onto his plate and the other meant for you. He thanks you, taking a whiff of his breakfast, a small smile on his face. “Smells good.”

You pass him another glass of liquid, this one filled with an electrolyte drink meant for hydration after a night of drinking. “Drink this. It’ll help with your hangover.”

He eyes it suspiciously, then takes a gulp without questioning it further.

The two of you eat in a comfortable silence, ignoring the obvious tension hanging in the air. From your peripheral, you notice the glint of steel hooked to his ear lobe. Piercings, which you never noticed before. Sexy.

He ends up finishing his entire meal, popping a few painkillers to chase it all down. He even chugs the electrolyte drink, claiming it isn’t so bad. While you take the last few bites of your toast, he excuses himself to brush his teeth again. You’re surprised at how hygienic he is, considering how he appeared before you just mere hours ago, hunched against your front door covered in his own liquor-soaked sweat. You take the plates, stacking them in the sink to wash for later. How much longer is his friend going to take to arrive here? You’re getting nervous, thinking of other ways to fill this gap of time without making your attraction to him so obvious.

You sit on the couch, turning the TV on to a random sitcom with the volume low, listening to the rush of water from the faucet inside the bathroom. When it stops, you try to find a comfortable position to sit in. It’s only now that you realize how short your pajama bottoms are; they ride all the way up your thighs and you can practically see your underwear through them. It’s too late to change when Kishibe returns, still clad in just a towel, taking a seat on the other side of the couch a safe distance beside you. It’s silent for a brief moment, neither of you knowing what to say in this odd situation. You shift nervously, tugging at the hem of your shorts.

“Thank you,” he starts, avoiding your gaze, staring ahead at the television. “For taking care of me. Must have been annoying to deal with a drunken old man.”

You smile, relaxing. “It wasn’t so bad. Besides, I couldn’t just leave you out there like that. Someone could have taken advantage of you.”

“Like you almost did?” he smirks, facing you now.

Laughing, you meet his gaze. “You remember that?”

“I do.” He spreads his legs apart just barely, towel draped dangerously over his knee, almost ready to slip.

You swallow hard, avoiding a glance in that direction, heat surrounding your cheeks. “Well, I was a good girl, remember? I didn’t do anything.”

He hums, nodding slowly, eyes drilling into yours. “You were a very good girl.”

Your breath hitches and you find yourself gravitating towards him, scooting closer. He grins, the scar on his cheek curving with it, voice low and seductive. “You gonna be bad for me now?”

“Only if you want me to,” you purr, sliding your hand beneath the towel, up his thigh, arousal pooling between your legs. Fuck it. He wants it, you want it. There’s no denying it anymore.

“Fuck,” he swears under his breath, pulling you in for a kiss. His mouth is cool and minty against yours, the remnants of toothpaste lingering in his spit. You slurp it up, hungry for any taste of him. He removes the towel from his waist, shrugging it to the floor, leaving him completely naked. You glance at his lap and bite back a moan, amazed at how fucking big he is, way too eager to have him inside you, desperate to be filled to the brim.

“Not bad for an old man, huh?” he chuckles, wrapping his fist around the shaft, stroking it.

“Not bad at all,” you smile, stripping out of your clothes hastily, kneeling between his legs with your mouth open.

He feeds you his cock, humming when you surround him in your wet heat, swallowing him to the hilt. One hand grips the back of your head, guiding you gently up and down his shaft. “You’re filthy, taking your neighbor’s cock like this. Who knew you’d be such a slut?” he mutters, caressing the side of your face with his other hand. “Touch yourself while I fuck this filthy mouth. Get that pretty pussy wet for me.”

You obey, spurred on by his vulgarity, reaching for your arousal, rubbing your throbbing clit with fast fingers. His cock hits the back of your throat and you guzzle him down to resist gagging, drool leaking from the sides of your lips. He moans, bucking his hips slightly, enraptured by you. With his thumb, he brushes away a tear welling at the corner of your eye, pulling out halfway. “Don’t hurt yourself, kiddo. It’s okay if I’m too much for you.”

You release him completely, moving down to his balls, nuzzling your nose to them. “I can take it, don’t worry.”

He clicks his teeth, beckoning you on the couch, almost like you’re being scolded for something you weren’t supposed to do. You roll your eyes, sitting beside him begrudgingly. He leans close to you, hot on your ear, one hand sliding between your legs while the other continues to stroke his dick. “I want to touch you too. That okay?”

You whine in response, tugging him in for a passionate kiss. He massages deep circles around your clit, fingers squelching from your slick gathering along your entrance. “I want a taste,” he growls, splitting apart your thighs, staring at your glistening cunt.

You nod, sinking into the couch, relinquishing all control to him. You let your pleasured moans speak for you as he dives into your pussy, eating you out sloppily. His facial hair grazes against you with each careful stroke of his tongue and you ache to see his chin shiny with your cum. Eventually, he slips inside you, pumping two digits in and out, mouth still working your bud. Soon, it becomes too much and you’re gushing for him, whimpering his name with ragged breaths, soaking his face in your essence.

He chuckles, the vibrations resonating to your clit, causing you to twitch with overstimulation. “That’s my girl, making such a mess for me.”

“Fuck me, Kishibe,” you breathe out, craving to be stuffed full of him. You’re reeling from your high, and if he’s not inside you soon, you’re sure you’ll go insane.

He hoists you up onto his lap, precum oozing from the tip of his dick. “How about you fuck me? Show me how much of a slut you are.”

Too fucked out to argue, you lift up on your knees, position him to your wet hole, sinking down slowly. He slides in easily, pussy sleek from your previous orgasm. It’s better than you imagined, every inch of him stimulating every inch of you. You savor it, rocking against him slowly. He kisses along on your neck, trailing to your nipples to suckle on them. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he moans, thrusting up into you to match your rhythm. “Take this cock however you like. It’s all yours.”

You bounce on him faster, whimpering into his mouth as you kiss him. He palms your ass cheeks, squeezing them in his firm grip, delivering a few loud smacks that echo off the walls of your living room, stinging your skin. “Fuck, I knew you were a good girl. Knew it the moment I met you,” he growls, pressing his thumb to your swollen clit. “Always wanted you like this.”

You kiss him harder at his confession, your chest swelling, pussy fluttering. You’re approaching another climax, teetering on the edge. As if he senses it, he tightens his hold on you, fucking into you faster, deeper. “Come for me, angel. Come on this cock.”

And you do, clenching him with your orgasm, making him mutter, “Fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming with you.” He shoots his load inside you, filling you up, just like you wanted.

It takes a moment for the two of you to catch your breaths, relaxing into each other’s arms, exchanging soft kisses without speaking. You study his face again, similar to how you did just several hours before, when he was slumped against your door, drunk. You thought he was handsome then, even more so now. “How’s your hangover?” you ask, breaking the silence.

He smiles, nuzzling his nose to yours. “Much better.”

#kishibe #kishibe x reader #kishibe csm #kishibe smut #kishibe chainsaw man #kishibe x you #csm kishibe #chainsaw man smut #csm smut #to all the boys who live next door #anthology series

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zomb1eturtlez · 2 years ago

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"At the risk of stating the obvious, no woman can mate with a bull and produce a child. Recognizing this simple scientific fact, I am led to a somewhat interesting suspicion: King Minos did not build the labyrinth to imprison a monster but to conceal a deformed child, his child.

While the Minotaur has often been depicted as a creature with the body of a bull but the torso of a man, centaur-like, the myth describes the minotaur as simply having the head of a bull and the body of a man, or in other words, a man with a deformed face. I believe pride would not allow Minos to accept that the heir to the throne had a horrendous appearance.

Consequently, he dissolved the right of ascension by publicly accusing his wife Pasiphae of fornicating with a male bovine.

Having enough conscience to keep from murdering his own flesh and blood, Minos had a labyrinth constructed, complicated enough to keep his son from ever escaping but without bars to suggest a prison. (It is interesting to note how the myth states most of the Athenian youth "fed" to the Minotaur actually starved to death in the Labyrinth, thus indicating their deaths had more to do with the complexity of the maze and less to do with the presumed ferocity of the Minotaur.)

I am convinced Minos' maze really serves as a trope for repression. My published thoughts on this subject (see "Birth Defects in Knossos"Sonny Won't Wait Flyer, Santa Cruz, 1968) inspired the playwright Taggert Chielitz to author a play called *The Minotaur* for The Seattle Repertory Company. As only eight people, including the doorman, got a chance to see the production, I produce here a brief summary:

Chielitz begins his play with Minos entering the labyrinth late one evening to speak to his son. As it turns out, the Minotaur is a gentle and misunderstood creature, while the so-called Athenian youth are convicted criminals who were already sentenced to death back in Greece. Usually King Minos has them secretly executed and then publicly claims their deaths were caused by the terrifying Minotaur thus ensuring that the residents of Knossos will never get too close to the labyrinth. Unfortunately this time, one of the criminals had escaped into the maze, encountered Mint (as Chielitz refers to the Minotaur) and nearly murdered him. Had Minos himself not rushed in and killed the criminal, his son would have perished. Suffice it to say Minos is furious. He has caught himself caring for his son and the resulting guilt and sorrow ineeses him to no end. As the play progresses, the King slowly sees past his son's deformities, eventually discovering an elegiae spirit, an artistie sentiment and most importantly a visionary understanding of the world. Soon a deep paternal love grows in the King's heart and he begins to conceive of a way to reintroduce the Minotaur back into society. Sadly, the stories the King has spread throughout the world concerning this terrifying beast prove the seeds of tragedy. Soon enough, a bruiser named Theseus arrives (Chielitz describes him as a drunken, virtually retarded, frat boy) who without a second thought hacks the Minotaur into little pieces. In one of the play's most moving scenes, King Minos, with tears streaming down his face, publicly commends Theseus' courage. The crowd believes the tears are a sign of gratitude while we the audience understand they are tears of loss. The King's heart breaks and while he will go on to be an extremely just ruler, it is a justice forever informed by the deepest kind of agony."

House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski

pg. 110-111

#house of leaves #hol #mark z danielewski #king minos #minotaur #the minotaur

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eelnoise · 1 year ago

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incandesce

zoro x afab!reader an: just some lovesick drabble because im weak in the knees for my big stinky boy. he's so cute and i wanna just snuggle w him so bad 🥺 cw: fluff :) wc: 1.1k @bby-deerling @kaizokuniichan @themushroomofdeath

The flash of the morning sun hits Zoro’s face like a white-hot light as he descends from the crow’s nest, freshly exhausted from training. Squinting in the daylight, he looks upon the deck below as it comes into clearer view – silhouettes of the crew fade into focus, and quickly does he scan the scene for a brief headcount. A slight warmth fills his chest, and not from the tide of day washing over the ship.

You’re not among them. You’re still asleep.

Zoro’s boots hit the deck with an audible thud, and heads turn to greet him. He offers a sleepy ‘good morning’ nod before heading right in the direction of the women’s quarters. No one stops him, nor are any words exchanged. They all know where he’s headed, just as they know why you tend to sleep in.

It isn’t often that he gets this opportunity – to join you for a nap. Most days he retires from the watch far earlier than any of the women awake, sometimes avoiding his own bed all together and simply napping in the nest. The odds are in his favor this time, and he means to take full advantage of the very limited time he can have with you. Only you.

No sooner does he creak the wooden door open that his heart skips a beat beneath his ribs. You’re there, just as he hoped you would be, softly snoozing beneath the sheets. Your hair is folded wildly about your face and the pillow beneath your head, and your lips are slightly parted with just a speck of drool glistening down your chin. Zoro can’t help but find you endearing, and seeing you in a deep, restful sleep does something to soften his stoicism.

He almost can’t bring himself to wake you, as the sudden shift on the mattress always causes you to stir – though you’re never soured by it. Never once do you make him feel unwanted or loathsome, always welcoming into your arms or by your side when he needs you most.

And, while not the most affectionate man, Zoro relishes in the love you give him. The good-willed and honest devotion that you deem him worthy enough to receive makes his head spin. Somehow you had latched onto his sin-soaked soul, cleansing it in your soft, practiced hands and invigorating him in ways long forgotten.

Memories that ache - that wear him down with the weight of the past, present and beyond - they all seem to slip away when he’s next to you. You’re his anchor, reeling him back from the somber reverie that so frequently plays in his mind. A light that burns bright even in the darkest of places, and somehow he always finds his way back to you. Zoro knows that real worth is wordless, actions speaking emphatically over all else.

And you show him that worth.

His worth.

Zoro kicks off his boots, practically tiptoeing his way around the bed to it’s open side – and though he knows it’s fruitless, he does make an attempt to slide in next to you as carefully as he can manage to. And you stir – as if right on cue, the sudden weight pressing into the mattress that rolls you against his chest.

A sleepy hum of acknowledgement befalls your lips, a small - yet simple - gesture of welcome to the man now aside you.

A hint of a smile etches into the cooks of his mouth as he returns the gesture with a hum of his own before curling his arm around your middle and burying his face into your hair and breathing in deeply. Your body is warm to the touch, and with it comes elation. Oftentimes he appreciates that you had cast the first stone, releasing him from the nigh-torturous, unknown feelings that he couldn’t possibly have navigated alone.

Zoro clings to you, as if magnetically attached around your body. His thumb drags along your tummy, up and down in a soothing yet natural response to being with you. He murmurs a throaty “Good mornin’” against your ear that makes you shiver with longing. Far too little do you get to indulge in his embrace, and though you’re not as tired as he is, you aim to enjoy the time regardless.

“Morning,” You reply, twisting your head just enough to see him and allowing your hand to fall atop his and entwining your fingers together. “How was watch?”

“Same as ever.” He whispers into you, feeling that familiar tranquil serenity blossoming within him. Zoro squeezes your body against him and moves some of your hair out of your face to place a series of pecks to your cheek before trailing up to give you a soft, tender kiss to your lips.

It hadn’t been easy, learning to love – but with you there, ready and willing to guide him at his chosen pace the whole way through his strained emotions. Not once in his life did he expect to feel this way, a man of action and ruthlessly devoted to his dream and to his course upon it. Zoro once saw life as just that – his own. A narrow pathway in hindsight, one fit enough for just himself at the end of all things.

Though now, the path had forked, widened, and along it do you walk beside him. Every decision, every step, every pinch of ash left in his wake has your name written upon it in dark, permanent ink. Zoro thinks with you in mind, acts with your face at the very forefront of his synapses. He’s grown to adore you, both body and soul.

Part of it terrifies him still. The thought of losing something more precious than words can explain dives deep into his core. In love, there is fear. Fear of loss, fear of weakness in life’s most pivotal moments, fear of losing one's sense of perception.

Though, there’s also hope. Hope and happiness and support and all else that comes with devoting your very essence to another. Seeing you smile or laugh brings him a peace that borders on inexplicable. The feeling of your hand on his bids him well wishes, each kiss a reminder of sanctuary. Every tangle between the sheets when he makes love to you renders him spellbound - the saccharine, honeyed taste of your skin on his tongue mixed in with those sighs and coos of pleasure that only he can hear, a song that only he can make you belt, it makes Zoro’s head spin with just the thought.

To Zoro, you’re beyond compare. No single person in his life comes even toe-to-toe with you, and as you snuggle against him, he allows himself to feel vulnerable. You’re his safehaven, a blessing in disguise that nabs him by the heart and never fails to lull him into a rejuvenating respite.

You’re home.

You’re his.

#one piece x y/n #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro fluff #zoro x reader #one piece scenario #x reader #zoro x y/n

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pottergff · 8 months ago

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nightmares.

hjp x reader ! (ootp - 5th year).

summary: harry is having nightmares often, so to help him sleep better, you sleep with him <3

warnings: nope, just fluff and cuddles.

a/n: this is my first post like that so pls have mercy. besides, english is not my native language so sorry if there are any spelling or writing mistakes. i hope you like it!

Harry had his face buried in your chest, his breath warming you as his arms wrapped around your waist. His ears were filled with your soft voice, humming Mazzy Star songs. The melodies played on the muggle music player Arthur Weasley gave you two Christmases ago.

One of your hands was tangled in his soft dark hair, while the other wrapped around his neck, caressing it tenderly.

"Really, thank you for staying, love. I needed you" - he murmured against your chest, his voice a little muffled. You couldn't help but smile slightly at his words and his relaxed tone of voice.

It wasn't news that Harry has nightmares about Voldemort and his traumas, but when Hermione told you about it, you were very worried. It was also not news that your boyfriend is stubborn and quite reserved about his problems, although you were always his most trusted person and he had no problem looking for you when he felt bad and the burden of the magical world overwhelmed him. But you also knew that he hadn't mentioned the subject of nightmares because he didn't want to worry you, it was something he used to do and you had argued about a few times.

"I'll always be there, no matter what. Don't forget that, Harry" - you murmured and pushed back a few small locks of hair that fell on his forehead. You looked at him and placed a kiss on his forehead, looking at him lovingly.

The boy lifted his head from your chest to look at you, his eyes tired from so many failed attempts at sleep. "And for that I thank you, because no matter what, you're always there for me.." - he said in a murmur, his words a little slurred by his desire to sleep. "I don't know what I would do without you." - He added, whispering those last words.

Your hand that was on his neck, moved to his cheek, caressing it with your thumb. "You don't have to thank me, I'm doing this because I care about you and the only thing that matters to me is that you're okay" - you told him with an even lower and softer voice, looking deeply into his clear eyes.

He exhaled heavily through his nose and relaxed into your touch, never looking away from your eyes. "I love you, so much." - He whispered before burying his face in your chest again while closed his eyes, relaxing.

You caressed his hair again, your fingers through his locks, massaging his scalp. "Me too, I love you so so much." - you whispered and left a kiss on his head. - "Try to rest, yeah? You have to do it, love." The only response you got from him was a barely audible "mhm" and a slight nod.

"Love, uhm.." - he settled better on your chest, burying his face further into the warmth of your body and hugging you tighter - "Can you keep humming to me? Please, your voice relaxes me" - he said in a slightly embarrassed and muffled tone. You smiled tenderly at his request. "If you want," you replied and hummed the tune playing on the music player again.

Little by little, you felt his breathing slow down and his body felt heavier against you, a sign that he was managing to sleep, and finally in a peacefully way. You couldn't help but admire the scene in front of you: the simple fact of having Harry like this, in your arms, and knowing that you made him feel safe, warmed your heart and caused millions of butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

#harry james potter #harry j potter #harry potter headcanon #hjp x reader #harry potter #fluff headcanons #daniel radcliffe #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x reader #hogwarts dr #harry james potter x reader #harry potter imagines #harry potter oneshots #harry potter x you #harry potter fluff #shifting antis dni #desired reality #reality shifting

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hannamoon143 · 7 months ago

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Die with a Smile

Nobody‘s promised tomorrow

So imma love you every night like it‘s the last night

Cause i wanna hold you just for a while, and die with a smile

༘⋆ ❅ ･:*:｡ ❆

Words: 5,2k

Genre: angst, fluff, comfort(…?), christmas

Hyunjin x fem. Reader

Warnings: Cancer!!!! So sickness, food, crying, sickingly sweet fluff, fears, , all i want for christmas by mariah carey (yes that needs a warning),death,non-sexual nudity (they r just bathing), cinnamon (sorry but- warning needed),

A/n: hi! I had so much fun writing this, and it‘s also for the StayblrHolidayEvent . I hope yall enjoy this also since it‘s my first christmas fic. Also as u can see it’s a bit inspired from die with a smile (bruno mars & lady gaga). Basically It’s just those lines i wrote over there kinda inspired me how to write the emotions and thoughts and stuff. So now, take ur hot chocolate, a fuzzy blanket and read! Merry christmas and happy holidays to yall🎄💕✨

You were laying down next to hyunjin, watching the other guys in front of you, while he was sketching most probably them or the decorated livingroom, or just the whole scene in front of him. Felix, Chan and Minho had come over, and now they were laughing as they decorated your tree, the rest of the livingroom, and singing christmas songs. The christmas joy had definitely taken over them, also if you couldn‘t really feel anything of it.„Don‘t you wanna get up and help them?“ Hyunjin mumbled quietly to you, not looking up from his sketch. He did that so often lately. He sketched simple scenes or things he saw, shutting almost everything else out. As if he wanted to remember everything to the smallest detail. „No, i‘m good here with you.“ You responded, laying your head on his shoulder. He sighed quietly, and kept drawing in silence for a while, the only noise was the guys bantering and christmas songs playing in the background. Then he spoke up again, quietly. „Y/nnie, you don‘t have to always sit around me and baby me alright? Don‘t think i don‘t know why you are doing this, and don‘t think i didn‘t hear you crying in the bathroom. I‘m well aware of the situation, but why can‘t we just make the best out of it? I feel like all this is getting to you more than to me, when it‘s literally me who is going to die.“ You froze at his words.

Last christmas, hyunjin had been diagnosed with cancer, and the worst was it was a type that could never be healed. They had told you that he had about one more year to live. That time you broke down entirely, and already there it was you who seemed to be more affected than him. But over a bit time you started acting normal again, not constantly being around him and doing everything for him. But now the year was coming to an end, and christmas was standing on the frontdoor. With that everything came back. You suddenly were all over him, not once leaving his side, and everytime he wanted to get up or something you pressed him down and did whatever he wanted to do for him.

The worst was you could feel it. Somewhere inside you had always hoped that the doctors were just wrong and hyunjin wouldn’t die in the next sixty years. But you saw that they were right. The way he slowly began to always eat a bit less than before, the way the circles under his eyes got darker, and his cheekbones more visible. You hated it. You didn’t hate him of course, you could never, but you hated this stupid cancer and what it was doing to your hyunjin. It was taking him painfully slow out of this world. With him getting worse you were too. You wanted to be strong for him, and for him to have the happiest last christmas ever but you couldn’t help it, the weight of the fact that soon he wouldn’t be there anymore was dragging you down too much, when you knew that it only hurt him more to see you like this, altough you always tried to hide it.

So there you were now. You stiffened and took your head off his shoulder, to look him in the eye. „Don‘t say it like that hyun-“

„No, i will in fact say it like that, cause i‘m not gonna lie to any of us for longer.I know that i‘m going to die, and you know it too okay? So why can‘t we enjoy the time left, and just do everything like we used to, instead of you constantly acting like i‘m some kind of fragile doll that could break at any moment? You acting like a overprotective mom isn‘t gonna change a single thing, as much as it hurts to hear that. Think about it y/n. Because i don‘t want to sit on this couch or in my bed the rest of my life. I‘m not doing this y/n.“ His voice was thick with emotion, and he had kicked his sketchbook away. He stood up, in fact needing a bit time to get up, and to lean onto the wall, but he went into your room, shutting the door. You stared at the closed door, with an empty hollow gaze. The other guys now excused themself and left. But before he left, chan said to you with a guilty smile: „Not everything he said is true, but you should think about some parts. Bye y/nnie.“

Now you were left alone in the silence. Hyunjin’s sketchbook was laying open on the floor, and the pages were a bit scaped now. He was going to be mad at himself for that later. You picked it up, wanting to close it, but then you saw his sketch from today. It wasn’t the scene in front of him, it was you, looking a bit sad. Under the drawing he wrote

My sad girl, 2024

When is she gonna be my happy girl again?

A tear ran down your cheek. He was always very empathetic and he hated when you felt down. Why hadn‘t you thought of the fact that you being like this only weighed him more down?

You cuddled up under the blanket that was still warm from hyunjin, tears slowly falling down. You knew he was right. Of course he wanted to enjoy his life, as long as he was still able to. Because no matter what you were going to do, it wasn‘t gonna change anything anyways, so why not enjoy instead of being sad and regretful when he was still with you, still breathing, still being able to smile at you?

After a while you could finally get yourself to go to him again. You braced yourself and got up, knocking on the door of your shared room. He just faintly sniffled. You opened the door slowly, seeing him huddled up under a blanket. He was crying, and it broke your heart. Hyunjin was a sensitive guy, and he hated arguing with loved ones more than anything, so you should have known that this would get to him, also if he was acting careless and tough. You kept being quiet, just sitting down on your side of the bed. You started stroking his hair, at wich he only started crying more. After a while of being like this in silence, the only sounds his quiet crying and the air cnditioner in the background, he lowered the blanket and looked at you with red eyes. „I don‘t want to die either y/n. I just… i‘m trying to be strong cause you are hurting so much,and i‘m so sorry for leaving you alone my love-“ His voice broke, and more tears spilled over onto his red cheeks. You opened your arms for him, and he didn‘t hesitate. He immediately moved a bit so his head was laying on your chest now. Quickly you wrapped your arms around him, kissing his head, while a few tears trailed down your cheeks too. Of course you knew. „I know, i know hyunnie. But you don‘t need to be strong all the time. I can‘t cure the cancer, but we are in this together. You can tell me how you feel, and i will give you space when you need it, but be by your side whenever you want it too. And i also promise to not act like a overprotective mom anymore.“ He chuckled a bit through his tears at that, wich made you do so too. „See, everything‘s okay. You are not alone, and as long as we can spend time together, i’ll be with you, trying to make your time left the best you ever had. How about tomorrow we make a christmas day? Like we go to the christmas market, bake gingerbread in the afternoon and sing christmas songs, all while we have ugly christmas sweaters on?“ you both started laughing, the tears finally stopping. He nodded,his face squished against your hoodie now, and his breathing was evening out. Maybe you really shouldn‘t take everything that serious. Because now it wasn‘t that point where you would have to say goodbye. You had no idea how much, but you had some time left to spend together, and you would try to make the best out of it. You would love him till the very end, and even after that, you‘d still do so. And as long as he was next to you would also tell him that, and make sure that when he had to go, he would do so in peace. So you closed your eyes, and in this little moment, everything that mattered was hyunjin, entirely squished against you, and you, holding him, as long as you could. The stars could have looked down at you two that night, and altough hyunjin was sick, and paths of the tears that you both cried earlier still lingered on your cheeks, they would have seen you two shine brighter than ever, the light not leaving, as long as you were together.

The next morning you woke up, a white comforter draped over you, and you almost had a heart attack when hyunjin was nowhere near. But then you saw him, walking in with a big grin, and one of the matching ugly christmas sweaters you had bought together sometime on.You started laughing, still half asleep and in a groggy voice. „You look…. Interesting.“ hyunjin laughed and threw something at you. It was your christmas sweater. You sighed, and you did your best to put a serious face on. His smile dropped. „Oh no- no- don‘t say you changed your mind.“ You broke out in a laugh and jumped up, putting the sweater over your pajama shirt. „God you are going to make me die even sooner with the heart attacks you give me.“ Hyunjin dramatically exhaled, gripping his chest. You just rolled your eyes at that. You were glad he was his usual dramatic self, the weight in the room that you both somehow created the past weeks, seemingly gone, replaced by a lighthearted joyful mood.

So you dressed the rest of yourself, grabbed your things and left the apartment with hyunjin. He had insisted to eat waffles at his favorite coz cafe around the corner, and not have one of your healthy breakfasts at home. You had given in, so now you were walking there, both wrapped up in coats, and fuzzy scarfs. It was cold outside, and the wind blew. There were faint smells of gingerbread and cinnamon in the air, telling you it was really getting christmas now. Well christmas was already tomorrow so how could it be different? You went into the cafe and hyunjin picked a spot at the window. On the pastell green walls there were everywhere pretty pictures, and the chairs were all different, each one looking vintage and really comfy. You ordered two waffles and two hot chocolates. As you sat there in the cozy fluffy chair, you looked at him. He looked the same as yesterday, and the days before but something was different. It wasn‘t the pink shade on his nose from the cold, or neither the Christmas sweater. No, it was that his eyes sparkled. They sparkled like they didn‘t in a long time. Maybe he was right? Maybe this was what he needed, not your experimental healthy food (that didn’t even taste good, eugh) and constant sitting around at home. Hyunjin shook you out of your thoughts. „Why are you staring?“

You shook your head with a little smile. „You‘re pretty today.“

He just laughed, assuming you were joking because of the sweater.

Your waffles and hot chocolate were served and hyunjin got excited like a kid, and immediately started munching them. You giggled, and secretly took a picture with your phone. Then you started eating too. The waffles tasted like christmas and happiness. You had never eaten such good waffles before. Maybe it was also just the feeling to sit here and eat them with hyunjin, entirely lighthearted and happy for the first time in weeks. As you were highly concentrated on your food, hyunjin suddenly spoke up. „I love you, you know that? And i always will, even when you can‘t see me anymore. But don‘t worry, i‘ll look at you getting older, achieving your dreams, and doing everything you want to, because i know you’ll do so well, even without me. And i‘ll protect you, from wherever i will be going. You‘ll always be my muse y/n.“ He sounded sincere, not sarcastic like when he was being dramatic, though he kept on eating his waffles, like he didn‘t just say something that almost made you cry and want to hold him for the rest of your life. You looked at him, tears building up a bit behind your eyes. „Hyunnie… I love you too, and always will. I don‘t know if i ever can fully move on though,… because i will always think of you when i look at the moon shining bright on the dark night sky, or when i look at the town around christmastime, everything tinted in a soft glow and everything smelling like gingerbread.“ You said, but you weren‘t as desperate and almost seeming like you would break down at any moment, like it was just a few days ago when he started talking about his death. No, you were calm, and a little, sad smile played on your lips. He was done with his waffles now, and leaned over the table to cup your cheek in his warm hand. „It‘s okay y/nnie. Grieving i a natural and healthy part of when someone you love is dying. And it‘s okay to cry, scream or vent to someone. But please don‘t do all that alone hm? I talked to the boys a few days ago, and they have all grown so close to you too over the years, they will support you, and you can grieve together. Know that you are not alone y/n, never. And i‘ll always be somewhere in there.“ He pointed at where your heart was. „And you are the strongest, bravest woman i know, so i know that you will be able to somewhat move on someday. Oh but i have one little request. Please never forget me, no matter what you choose to do in the future. I like the idea of you being reminded of me when looking at the moon or while the christmas season. I hope you are being reminded of me in a good way though, and not like a haunting nightmare way.“ He chuckled at the last part a bit. And you smiled too.

„I would never forget you love, and don’t worry about it, you‘ll always be my dream, never my nightmare.“

„Oh but one more thing. Don’t be afraid of me dying, while i’m still here. Everything is gonna be okay.“ He smiled. You both looked into each other‘s eyes for a moment there, and it felt like nothing else was existing right now. No other people, no sadness, and no cancer. Just hyunjin‘s mesmerizing dark eyes looking into yours.

You two were walking out the cafe, hand in hand, now going to the little christmas market hyunjin adored since you took him there for the first time. Since then he didn‘t spend a singly christmas season without going there.

Your breaths were coming out in little white clouds, and you put your head on hyunjin‘s shoulder. He took his hand out of yours,and instead lovingly wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close, and pressing a kiss to your head. You loved when he did that. If only you could stop time now, and walk in the joyful town forever with your boyfriend.

But soon you heard happy children‘s laughter, and smelled cinammon. No doubt that there was the christmas market. Hyunjin started smiling like crazy. He loved the fact that he got to see this for the last time with you. No, he wouldn’t be sad that it was the last time today, and regret things. No, he would just be so, so glad to spend this day here, forgetting the cancer that usually weighed him down, for a while. It seemed like a gift that he got this day, being with his favorite person in probably his favorite place.

Soon enough he saw a stand, with cute handmade christmas decorations. He immediately went over there, and made a adorable noise.

„Looooook y/n, it‘s a ferret with a scarf, and it looks like my scarf! We need to adopt him and hang him on our tree. I feel our bond, so no arguing on this one.“ He said dead serious. You laughed, looking at the ferret. You almost forgot how excited hyunjin always got at the christmas market, and how you had to convince him to not buy literally everything he saw. But you nodded on this one, the little deco really looking a bit like hyunjin right now, with his cute red nose and the adorable smile on his face. He went to the man who was selling it, and even gave him more money than the ferret costed. The guy happily wished him merry christmas and waved. Hyunjin just loved to make people happy, and why not do that especially now? He took your hand in his again, walking by the other stands, the shimmer of the fairylights hanging on all the stands mirroring the one in his eyes. As you were slowly walking, you, literally trying to convince hyunjin to not buy a gigantic wolf statue from the eighteenth century for chan(He was so silly, he had to gift everyone the most random things for christmas with the simple explanation: I saw that and thought of you), you suddenly felt something cold on your face. Hyunjin seemed to feel it too, because he looked up and immediately his whole face lit up even more if that was possible. „Omg Y/n it‘s snowing! This is just a perfect day, even the weather with it‘s beautiful snow is on our side.“ He talked, not really paying attention to what he was saying, just mesmerized by the white crystals.

Sometimes you took a bit time, just to admire the way he got excited over little things, in a way you would usually see it only with kids. Those moments, when joy was literally radiating from him you felt so much love and admiration for him that you could combust. You just wanted to snap a hundred pictures with that adorable smile and the shine in his eyes, and keep them forever in your heart. You brushed his hair out of his face, and your hand lingered on his cheek for a bit longer. „You‘re right hyun, this is the perfect day.“ You whispered. He just continued smiling, then lowered down to kiss you. You didn‘t feel the cold snow on your skin anymore, only your boyfriends soft lips, that tasted like cinammon and warmness, pressed to yours. As you pulled away, your foreheads were resting against each other, and you felt his warm breath on your face. „Let‘s go home now, then we can bake gingerbread and show mini Jinnie his new home.“ you giggled at his words, and nodded, your eyes not leaving his.

You walked through your apartment door, both of you giggling like lovesick fools. You took your shoes and coat off, but suddenly your feet got sweeped off the floor, and you were being carried by hyunjin. „Yah, stop it!! The doctor said no heavy lifting!“ You slapped his arm in an attempt to make him let you down but you couldn‘t even hold in your own laugh. He shook his head and dramatically said: „If not now, then when should i carry you bridal style, my lady?“ You playfully slapped his arm again and threw your head back in laughter. He just fondly smiled, lowering his head down to kiss you on the cheek, and then he carried you into the kitchen. The other guys seemed to also have decorated the kitchen because beautiful fairy lights were hung over the stoves, and some more decoration, including a mistletoe, was placed perfect. When hyunjin stopped under the mistletoe you started shaking your head. „No jinnie don‘t. Please, that‘s so cheesy,don‘t do it.“ You whined, knowing exactly he would in fact do it.He grinned and asked „May i?“ He didn‘t wait for an answer, he just softly laid his lips on yours, the kiss so tender like always. Both of you closed your eyes, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. After a while you slowly pulled away, and he murmured a soft „love you my muse“. You hid your face in the crook of his neck, smiling. „Love you too hyunnie“ your words were muffled against his sweater, but he didn‘t mind. He wouldn‘t want to be anywhere else in the world right now.

You went into the kitchen, and hyunjin let you down. You started preparing everything for gingerbread, and soon christmas songs were filling the air. With the fairy lights on, everything was tinted in a soft, cozy glow.

As you were just done with the dough and had placed it to rest somewhere ‘all i want for christmas‘ started playing. „Oh my favorite christmas song.“ He chimed, preparing a spoon as a microphone. You looked at him in shock. „Sorry what?? Don‘t tell me we are together for literally six years, and i had no idea that your favorite christmas song is all i want for christmas. How can you have these muscles, and act all flirty but suddenly be like a lovesick teeny girl?“

A endearing pout played on his lips. „It‘s a classical, don‘t judge me!“ You sighed but started giggling. As the refrain of the song came, hyunjin threw his hair back (Nuh uh seriously, who was this diva?) and he began to loudly sing into the spoon. You laughed, but couldn‘t resist him. You grabbed a spoon toom, and put it up to your mouth, singing along with him. He then wrapped his one arm around your waist, and with the other one he held his ‘microphone‘ , singing „All i want for christmasss is youuuuu“ And then pointing at you. You started dancing around together too. In a little clumsy pirouette move, where you would never think this man was a professional dancer, Hyunjin accidentally threw a bag of flour off the stove. In only a few seconds you both and the whole floor were coated in a thick layer of flour. For a moment you were both flabbergasted, but soon you bursted out laughing, and hyunjin just kept singing like it was nothing. This whole moment felt so heartwarming and silly, you just knew this was one of those moments you would still think of in twenty years. Hyunjin ended his little concert with one more time singing the refrain line and then he picked you up and swirled you around, the flour flying around in the air. You squealed, not expecting it, wich only made him chuckle. As he let you down again, he pulled you close again, pressing a kiss to your forehead, not caring that now flour was on his lips.„I love you so much.“

You giggled, wrapping your arms around him, so now you were both wrapped up tightly in each others embrace, not caring about the fact that you were just distributing the flour even more.

„You said that so often today.“

„Yes because i never ever want you to forget it, alright love?“ he held you jut a bit tighter, and you felt his nose nuzzling against your neck.

„alright.“

„Good. Let‘s just stay like this for a little while longer? You look cute in flour.“

„As long as you want to.“ you smiled softly and laid your head against his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

After a while the flour got a bit itchy though, you both had to admit. So you went into your room, getting some clothes for you and hyunjin, while he went into the bathroom to run a bath. You took your matching christmas pajamas, the fluffy one with gingerbread men on it. As you came into the bathroom, hyunjin was turning on the water, putting some of your favorite cinammon-bath salt in it. He had also lit some candles, and turned off the big light, so the whole bathroom was tinted in golden light. You both undressed, and you stepped into the tub first, sitting down at the end of it. Hyunjin waited and raised a brow. „Don‘t you want me to sit behind you like usual? You always like when i massage your scalp, or your tense shoulders“ You gently smiled up to him. „Today i‘m gonna do all that for you. It was so wonderful to just forget everything today, and with the christmas market and the snow, everything was just perfect. But you‘re still my sick baby. So sit down, today it‘s me who is gonna massage your scalp.“ Hyunjin‘s eyes filled with tears, and a fond smile crept up to his lips. He got into the bathtub too, sitting down between your legs, like you usually did with him. You soon gently started to run your fingers through his hair, and he closed his eyes, cherishing the feeling. After a while you felt his muscles completely relax, and his breathing get slow and steady, almost like his body was melting into yours. You held him tight, one hand still in his hair, and from time to time you kissed his shoulder, like he always did to you.

After a while when you almost thought he had fallen asleep he murmured: „The water‘s getting cold.“

You hummed. „Let‘s get out, and get you to sleep jinnie.“

„But the gingerbread.“ He mumbled, but his eyes were already closed. You smiled and he whined as you got up and out of the tub. „We can still make the little gingerbread men, and ferrets and whatever you want, tomorrow.“ You took a fluffy towel, and wrapped it around yourself. Then you got another one, and tried dragging hyunjin out of the water.

„But then it‘s already christmas day. That‘s against the rules my lady.“ You chuckled at his sleepy confused mumbling. „We are making our own rules.“ You took the towel and slowy dried him off. Then you softly pushed him down to sit on the bathtub edge and put him on his pajamas. „You are taking care of me so well love… Never gonna stop loving you, i‘ll protect my muse at all costs, even when i‘m not physically with you anymore.“ He mumbled, so incoherent and sleep drunken you almost didn‘t understand it. „I know jinnie, i know. Now let‘s get you to bed, hm?“ He whined, and after you quickly put on your own pajamas too, you helped him get up and you both went to bed. As he laid down, you pulled the comforter up to his chin, lovingly stroking his hair. Then you got into bed too, closing your eyes. When you were already at the edge of sleep you suddenly heard hyunjin speak up again. „Y/n?“

„Hmm?“ „Please say it back“

„What are you talking bout.“

„That you love me. I‘m so tired already, but somehow i feel like i won‘t fall asleep if you don‘t say it.“

If you would have thought about that, maybe you could have somewhere already thought that it was coming. Hyunjin‘s pure soul was bracing itself for something, as if he knew.

„I love you. Forever and ever.“

And then you both drifted off.

When you woke up, you didn‘t immediately open your eyes. But you knew. You felt it. You could never describe this feeling, or how you would know, but you had no doubt your hyunjin was somewhere else now. Somewhere far away. And when you finally did open your eyes you took a second to breathe in. You slowly sat up and braced yourself. Then you looked to your side. There he was, looking like he was sleeping peacefully. You didn‘t know if you were imagining that or if it was real but it seemed like even a small smile was laying on his lips. You were oddly calm, as you stood up, and walked around to hyunjin‘s side.

You crouched down next to the bed, and with a slight tremble you took his hand in yours. It was still a bit warm. You pressed a kiss to it, as a silent tear rolled down your cheek. „Hey hyunnie. I don‘t know if you can hear me, but i just want to tell you that i love you okay? Don‘t forget that. And i hope you weren‘t in pain when it happened. Just know that you can peacefully go wherever you are supposed to go now. It‘s okay for me. I will continue living, also if the pain of your absence will daily remind me of the fact that you aren‘t with me anymore. But that‘s okay. I thought that this pain is the worst, but it makes me remember you, and that‘s what i want to do for the rest of my life, so actually i will be okay with it. That day yesterday was really a perfect day, as you said. I guess somehow our souls knew that soon they would have to say goodbye to each other. It helped me realize that when you die i won‘t have to act all strong, and feel like suffocating when i‘m alone. Oh by the way, i‘ll call the guys soon, and tell them. Then i‘ll bake our gingerbreadmen okay? And i‘ll be taking good care of mini jinnie, so you don‘t have to worry about him and his little scarf.“ You smiled through the tears running down your cheeks, that were silently landing on the bed next to hyunjin.

„So hyunnie, i bet you are wating for me to finish my dramatic boring speech so you can finally go in peace, hm? I wish you merry christmas my one and only love.“ You kissed his hand tenderly for the last time, a single little tear dripping down onto it.

Taglist: @0omillo0 @lina-linny @darqlys

@onementally-unstabel-kid @idek6758 @sadie-tucker @kozumesphone

@urlocalmultigroupfan @thoughtfularbiternightmare @lezleeferguson-120

@stayblrofficial hello this is my submission for the stayblrholiday event! For some reason I can’t send y’all the link but yeah I hope tagging is okay too!<3

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