#i did plan to do all the pages in one night but it took longer than i expected lmao... so you're gonna have to wait for part 2

[tianhai03]

an accidental detour: part 1

a short little comic where dante gets sent back in time to a familiar place.

[whxtedreams]

Cookies as Payment

Inspired by:

i'd be lying if i said  you make me speechless the truth is you make my tongue so weak it forgets  what language to speak in  - by rupi kaur (milk and honey - page 61)

Word Count: 1.5k

Pairing: neighbour!joel x reader

Tags: no outbreak, fluff, baking, kissing, first kiss (with Joel), just wanna rip my heart out kind of fluff.

part two: eyes on me darlin’

Notes

little thank you to @janaispunk for tagging me in the pinterest moodboard game and therefore making me sit on pinterest for an hour looking at cookies to bake and then write this. Thinking of making this a small series. Just small scenes losely based around rupi kaur poety as I read through their books.

You didn’t expect it. Truth be told, you’re positive he didn’t plan it either. There’s so much you didn’t expect to happen between you and your neighbour, and knowing how soft his lips are was definitely not on your bingo card.   

The house smells divine, a tantalising blend of vanilla and chocolate filling the air, the sweet scent mixing with the smooth jazz playing from the record player. The atmosphere is cosy and welcoming, blending all the perfect ingredients for an afternoon with Joel as he works outside on another one of your projects.

He walks through the kitchen door, his nose leading him to you while you pull the slightly browned cookies from the oven. Your back is to him as you place the tray on the counter to continue cooking as they cool.

“They smell amazing.” Joel hums as he reaches over you for one. 

“They’re not ready yet, they’re still cooking as they cool.” You swat his hand away with the oven mitt, scolding him for almost touching them.

“But they smell too good.” 

You softly shove him as his hand reaches for the cookies again. You turn to face him then, arms crossed over your chest as you lean against the counter. His wired headphones dangle over his shoulders, blending into his plain white tee, his jacket discarded in the early afternoon from the Texas heat.

“I could smell ‘em from all the way outside, got me droolin’ out there.” He huffs a soft laugh as he brings his hands up in false defence, moving back from the cookies. “I’ve been tellin’ ya to start sellin’ them, make a fortune.” He points at you then before pushing himself to sit on the unused side of the counter. 

You open your mouth to say something but shrug instead, your hands focusing on the small fabric strands at your sleeves. He’s mentioned this a few times, every time he tries something you cook he ends up showering you with compliments. It’s sweet, how much he likes your baking and cooking and you have considered selling what you make but the idea terrifies you. Having someone pay for what you make, you’d rather just gift them to friends and family.

The first time you cooked for him, he almost begged you to help him cook for Sarah’s birthday the following week. You didn’t believe him when he told you he was a terrible cook. He ended up cooking for you that night to prove you wrong and after he made you spaghetti, you thought it would be better if he just stuck to prepping while you did the rest of the work for Sarah’s birthday dinner. You didn’t think someone could mess up spaghetti that badly, you were proven very wrong.

It’s been a few months since you moved in next door to Joel and it took him no longer than a week to start offering help in renovating. Took two weeks before he started coming over without the excuse of helping out and just wanting to hang out. 

It’s been nice, the constant company that doesn’t feel like you’re suffocating your own social battery. It’s the easy, effortless conversations that instead fill your social battery instead of draining it like others tend to do. There have been nights where nothing is said for hours, each just bathing in each other's company as you each do your own little hobbies, not demanding attention. 

There’s been times where you’re so stuck in your book you forget Joel is sitting across the room, tools in his hands as he carves away at another design. It’s not until he walks over to show you that you get the fright of your life, forgetting that you’re not alone.  

You fall into another easy conversation as Joel impatiently waits for the cookies to be ready. He updates you on the bench he’s building for your patio, and you get lost in how passionate he becomes when he talks about his job. His hands start moving the more he talks, the corner of his mouth twitching as he explains how he overcame something when it wasn’t quite working the way he wanted it to. 

You could listen to him for hours. You have listened to him for hours. 

You offered to pay him of course, but he said a batch of cookies was more than enough payment.

You make him coffee as he talks, already knowing how he likes it due to the amount of times he’s ended up over at your house in the mornings while his daughter Sarah had a house full of teenage girls over. He’d stumble over half awake and plant his face on the counter as he waits for the coffee to brew, his hair a mess and clothes crumbled. Hard to sleep when they stay up all night fuckin’ laughin and playing games. As much as he complains about it, you know he loves that his daughter ended up with a nice group of friends, even if they keep him up all night. 

You pour his coffee and he takes it as he mentions he’s almost finished outside. He’s rambling now and you’re half listening as you place a few cookies on a plate. His eyes light up and he shuts up as you turn back around with the cookies. This time you don’t swat his hand away as he takes one. 

His eyes close as he takes a bite and you smile, knowing that you made him happy. “So fuckin good.” he mumbles with a mouth full. 

You’re standing in front of him when he opens his eyes, and you can’t seem to read his face as you smile up at him. His eyes seep into you and it lingers on your skin as his eyes flicker down to your lips. The room goes quiet besides the music in the background. 

And then he puts his coffee down along with the cookie, his hands reaching for the sleeves of your dress. Your heart is in your throat by the time he pulls you between his thighs, one hand on your wrist while the other rests at the back of your neck. 

Your smile is gone, eyes wide as his own burn into yours. Then his hand on your neck ever so slowly pulls you in, giving you time to move away. You don’t. 

The first press of his lips on yours steals the air from your lungs and leaves you completely breathless, completely entranced by the sensation of his touch. Your muscles loosen, your mind clears, and any sense of tension in your body disappears. You feel like putty in his hands, every ounce of your trust and affection poured into this single moment. He could do anything he wishes, and you would simply allow it. 

His lips are soft and comforting, the stubble a welcomed contrast as they move over yours again and again. There's a sweet and sensual feeling in the air, the connection between you both being amplified with every kiss.     

His hand trails up the back of your neck and into your hair, his fingers lacing themselves through the strands and pulling a deep sigh from you. The tender, intimate touch is causing you to melt, your body and mind slowly responding to his touch. The feel of his hand in your hair is both soothing and stimulating, drawing out a shiver from you.

He pulls away all too soon, leaving you wanting more. He holds you close, his warm breath fanning over your face as he looks into your eyes. You can see the smile slowly settling on his face as he sees your gaze, the longer he looks down at you the more his smile seems to grow. 

“I think you taste better.” He confesses in a whisper, his hand leaves your wrist and settles at the small of your back. 

You try to speak, but the words keep failing to escape your lips. You want to say so much, but there are so many thoughts and feelings racing through your mind that you can't translate them into words. It makes your tongue tired as it struggles to say how you feel, as if your feelings have completely filled your brain and left it with nothing left to speak.

At your lack of response, Joel's smile widens and his lips move down to kiss you once again, this time with even more tenderness and affection. The touch of his lips on yours is soft and gentle, sending an intoxicating sense of joy and comfort that sweeps through you. As his lips move over yours, brushing over them in a sweet and sensual way, you can feel yourself falling further into his arms.

And you think that maybe, you like the taste of your cookies better on his lips as he kisses you. The lingering flavours of vanilla and chocolate seem to blend perfectly with his mouth, as if designed to perfectly complement each other.

[bloodyserratus]

welcome intrusion

pairing: choso x fem!reader word count: 4.2k synopsis: in choso's mind you are dating, but you are not on the same page. when you indulge in some harmless (to you) flirting, choso takes matters into his own hands. themes/warnings: SMUT! mdni, lots of day after fluff, lil bit of plot, f2l, very possessive choso, oral, piv intercourse, dirty talk, a mirror. lmk if i missed any!

a/n: this is the part 2 of my first choso fic! ...this can be read standalone but check that out for more context ig haha

You blinked lazily as you woke. As consciousness returned to you, so did your memory of last night. Glancing around you confirmed that you were, in fact, in Choso’s room and that your memories were not rabid fantasies. Choso laid behind you with a strong arm draped loosely around your waist and as much as you wanted to snuggle against him, you also desperately needed to pee.

You shifted gingerly, trying to move without waking him. You could figure out which door led to the bathroom yourself.

“Ope?!” you let out a surprised exhale when his arm tightened around your waist and pulled you against his chest.

“Don't sneak off,” he murmured sleepily, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“I wasn't!” you were indignant. The thought hadn't even crossed your mind. “I need to pee,” you wiggled in his hold.

“Ah,” he clicked his tongue with understanding. “Right across the hall.”

You smiled as Choso’s grip loosened reluctantly as you shuffled across the hall to do your business.

“Missed you,” Choso murmured when you tucked yourself back into him and you laughed at his joke.

Choso’s eyebrows pinched slightly at your laugh because he hadn’t been kidding, but he was satisfied that you were back in his arms. He pressed himself flush against your back and his heat under the covers melted into you.

“You're warm,” you hummed delightedly.

“Mhm,” he hummed back. “Do you have plans today?”

“No, do you?”

“Spend the day with me?” he requested hopefully.

“Okay,” you smiled.

You lazed in bed for a while longer before the sunlight started to peek through the curtains.

“I'll make coffee, stay in bed as long as you want,” Choso pressed a kiss against your forehead before he got out of bed. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and before too long, you heard a grinding sound coming from, presumably, the kitchen.

You laid in bed for a few moments, contemplating the situation. Of all the things, sleeping with Choso was not one you had foreseen. Shrugging, you pulled yourself out of bed and found a clean shirt of his to put on. You tied your hair up and walked towards the sounds of coffee.

“Morning,” Choso greeted you with a lazy smile when you entered.

You paused in your tracks, once again taken aback by his physique. The sweatpants hung low across his hips and his musculature was nothing if not impressive. His long, dark hair fell around his shoulders and you thought about running your fingers through them again.

“What?” Choso felt you eyeing him as he poured the coffee into mugs.

“You are crazy hot, you know that right?” you tried to laugh it off.

Choso flushed, which is ridiculously endearing.

“Oh my god and you're fucking cute!” you cooed as you accepted a mug from him. You looked up at him with heart eyes and he tried to hide from your gaze.

“Quit it,” he protested bashfully.

“Why are you being so shy?” you asked playfully. “You know you’re hot right?” You took the opportunity to run a hand over his chest. His muscles flexed reflexively at your touch and his pupils dilated.

“Cho?” you pressed a kiss against his bicep. “You know, right?”

He had the gall to look sheepish when you kissed his shoulder.

“Choso!” you insisted and he responded by wrapping his arms around you and squeezing tightly. He couldn’t get enough of the sound of his name, so flirtatious on your lips.

“Thank you,” he murmured against your lips. You grinned and pressed a kiss to his lips. He grunted softly before picking you up and carrying you back to the bedroom.

He laid you down, but you pulled him down on top of you, legs wrapped around his waist as his cock pressed against you. It wasn’t until this moment that Choso noticed you were wearing his shirt and his pupils dilated. What a sight.

“Fuck,” you panted, grinding yourself against his hot, heavy erection. “Cho-”

“Pretty girl,” he ran his thumbs across your cheeks. “Want me?”

“Need you,” you pouted.

Your nipples tightened through his shirt and he pressed his tongue inside of his cheek as his gaze raked over you. Where to start?

“Wait,” you interrupted his thoughts. “Lay down.”

“Hm?” his eyebrows raised.

“Please?” you smiled brightly at him.

Choso’s eyes were still questioning, but he laid down where you gestured. You moved to the foot of the bed and ran your hands up along his legs, through the fabric of his sweats. You traced the contours of his shins, his strong quads, and his thick cock. You admired the outline of it through your fingers and Choso jerked when you squeezed gently.

You bit your bottom lip as you continued to trace up the contours of his abs and his chest, brushing lightly against his piercings. You grinned mischievously before running your hands over his shoulders and back down his muscular arms.

“You are so…,” you admired him dreamily. “Fucking hot.”

Choso blushed furiously up at you. Your chest grew tight. Something about the way color spread across the bridge of his nose made you tingly all over.

“God I like it when you blush,” you exhaled, learning forward to pepper kisses along the pink.

Choso’s breath caught at the way you were so generously affectionate with him. God he liked you. He had always liked you, but having you now was something else.

“Cho,” you gasped at the friction, “You're so hard.”

“Look what you're doing to me,” he chuckled darkly.

“Let me take care of you,” you moaned at his words. It was difficult, but you managed to pull yourself away from him and settled, instead, between his legs. “Let me take care of this beautiful cock,” you hummed as you nuzzled your face against his erection.

“Ah fuck,” he hissed as he watched you rub your cheeks and lips wantonly against his cock. Your lips nibbled through the soft fabric and your mouth fell open in desperate pants. God he wanted to place his hand on the back of your head and press you down on him, but he also loved letting you explore him freely.

“Shit…baby, baby, baby,” he muttered desperately, “Put it in your mouth, baby, please!” he panted, squirming impatiently. 

“Yes sir,” you answer him playfully before closing your lips around his engorged cockhead. He was hot against your tongue and his hips bucked up reflexively, hitting you in the back of the throat. “Fuck! Cho,” you coughed.

“Shit, sorry, I’m sorry!” He apologized profusely. “It felt so good,” he offered weakly in explanation. His expression was both guilty and crazed and you had to admit, you liked the way you could make him lose control.

“Don’t be,” you bit your bottom lip to hold back your desire. “I like it rough,” you grinned before lowering yourself onto him again. You relaxed your throat around his cock and took him down to the hilt.

Choso was all breathy pants and muttered curses while you milked him. He stared, eyes glazed over, at the sight of you eagerly swallowing his entire erection and it was only the thought of cumming in your pussy that was able to keep him from losing his sense and nutting down your throat. He bucked up into your mouth a few more times before pulling you off. When you looked up at him, eyes dark and mouth wet with saliva, he groaned deeply and pulled your mouth to meet his.

Choso guided you to straddle him and he grasped his cock, swiping the head through your folds. He grinned when you shuddered and he teased you a few more times before sliding up into you.

“Cho-!” you gasped, at his forceful upwards buck. Your eyes rolled back as he thrust up into you, harsh and rough. He watched you with dark eyes as you held onto his shoulders, hanging on weakly as he fucked you…hard.

“Cho-so,” your hands clawed around the back of his neck as he stroked in and out of you.

“So good, so good, so good,” he murmured like an incantation. “God this pussy is so fucking good!”

The forceful puncture of his words had your toes curling and you started to lose it. Sensing the change, Choso reached up and tweaked your nipples between his fingers and you clenched, walls fluttering around him as you came undone.

“Choooo~!” you squealed and he enjoyed the exhilarating sight of you coming apart on him, for him.

He gritted his teeth as you squeezed and clenched on him. He could hardly believe it, but he managed to stay together through your orgasm. He flipped you onto your back and grabbed your wrists, lifting them over your head.

“Put your hands on the wall,” he instructed. When you looked at him with confusion, all he said was, “Watch your head,” before he drove into you, deeper and harder than before.

You let out a surprised cry as your hands flew to the wall, bracing yourself. Choso was strong and he leveraged every bit of that to drive his hard cock into your clenching pussy. The sounds that came out of your mouth were no short of crazy and the pleased look on Choso’s face had you melting.

“Wanna cum in you, angel,” Choso muttered between thrusts.

“Please, please, please,” you nodded frantically. You wanted that too. Desperately.

Choso’s balls tightened and the word ‘mine’ echoed through his mind as he came, heavy and hard, into you. ‘Mine, mine, mine’ was all he could hear until his crazed haze subsided.

“I think our coffee’s getting cold,” you smiled up at him affectionately as you pushed some of his hair back.

“Probably,” he chuckled, but he let his heavy body weight on yours for a while longer before he could summon the willpower to pull away.

…

Choso watched you, chest full of butterflies, as you greeted someone’s dog. After showering and drinking your tepid coffees, you’d made a plan for the day which included brunch and then shopping. You’d been on your way to brunch when a puppy had derailed you and you were now petting its belly happily as Choso looked on.

“Agh he’s so cute!” you’d cooed when you’d finally returned to his side and continued on your jaunt towards the restaurant.

“You’re cute,” he laughed, looping his arm through yours as you walked.

You watched Choso over your menu as he read through his. You wondered what this was to him. For as long as you’d been acquainted with him, you’d never known him to date. Perhaps he was more of a casual person…you supposed that could be fine. You lived a little further apart than was ideal for dating, anyways. 

Choso looked up and caught your gaze. You panicked and lifted your menu up to cover your face. Heat crept up your cheeks at having been caught staring, but Choso’s lips curled into a smile. It felt really nice to be out on a date with you. To be able to think of you as his girlfriend. After having been so content being on his own for many years, he was surprised at how natural it felt.

“Want to check out the record store after this? They sell books and tea too,” he asked. He’d spend the entire day with you, if you’d let him.

“Sure!” you nodded, glad that he hadn’t mentioned your staring.

…

You walked purposefully from the dining area to the lobby. Tonight was the rehearsal dinner and you were anxious for things to go smoothly. Rationally, you knew that they should, but you couldn’t help the small string of worry about something going wrong. You were scanning the room to locate Yuko and Yuji again when an arm shot out and pulled you into another hallway.

“Oh?” you tensed up and then relaxed when you realized it was Choso. You smiled at him shyly. “Hey.”

“Hey,” his eyes searching yours, “You good?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “Just…a lot going on,” you bounced on the balls of your feet.

“I know,” he brushed his thumb across your cheek reassuringly. “It’ll be fine though. As long as those two get hitched…it’s a success. And honestly I don’t think we could stop them even if we tried,” he laughed, jerking his eyebrows towards the couple who was canoodling at the head of the table.

You laughed. Choso was right, you could relax. Everything would be fine.

Choso admired you as you watched the husband and wife to be. Your eyes softened as you smiled and Choso was filled with a rush of desire. He wanted to pull you into a supply closet, he wanted to kiss you, he wanted to cart you off and do unspeakable things to you. He cleared his throat and stepped away from you in an effort to get a grip. It was Yuji and Yuko’s wedding. He wanted to wait until the nuptials were over until he shared that you two were dating so as not to steal their thunder.

Your smile fell a hair when Choso stepped away from you. Choso had been hot and cold all night. He’d held your hand under the table, thumb brushing against yours, but then dropped it quickly when Yuji and Yuko had approached from behind. He’d draped his hand around your hip when he’d approached you at the bar before seeming to remember himself and then pulling away stiffly. It made a certain sense, you surmised. It felt natural to be more physical after what had happened between you, but Choso must not want to give you the wrong impression.

…

“Megumiiiiii!” a cheery voice rang out from behind you. You could place Gojo’s voice from a mile away.

As Yuji’s mentor, he hadn’t been present at the rehearsal dinner yesterday, but he was invited to the ceremony.

“Gojo-san,” Megumi greeted the man reluctantly before returning his attention to his conversation with you. You liked Megumi despite his excessively stern exterior.

“Wow, YN!” Gojo raked his eyes over you as he settled into the bar behind Megumi. “You look…wow,” his jaw dropped appreciatively as he really took you in. His eyes burned hot little trails into your skin.

“Thanks,” you laughed, heat running through you at his hungry stare. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

This was true. Gojo was tall and handsome, so he cut quite the figure in formalwear.

“Grab you a drink?” he asked, eyeing your empty glass.

“Sure, why not?” you shrugged, telling him your order.

“Seriously,” Gojo let out a low whistle as he looked you over again. “This color really suits you.”

You laughed. Gojo was a notorious flirt, but it felt nice to be on the receiving end of such a handsome man’s compliments. Gojo’s index finger traced down the thin strap on your shoulder and you shivered at his touch.

“Gojo!” you chuckled, but your voice was breathy.

Choso fumed. He had seen Gojo approach you out of the corner of his eye. That fact alone had been enough to trigger a small flicker of jealousy in his stomach. When you’d laughed at Gojo’s words and then when he had dared to touch you…the small flicker was stoked into a steady flame.

“Oh! Gojo-sensei and YN?” Yuji observed innocently. “They look kind of cute together, don’t they?”

Choso’s fist clenched.

“I don’t think Gojo is the serious type,” Todo raised an eyebrow at his best friendo.

“Ah, that’s alright too,” Yuji waved a hand at the massive man. “If you ask me, she could use a fling! She’s been single for…forever!”

Gojo felt Choso’s eyes on him before he saw them. It was impossible not to. As soon as he had approached you, a pair of piercing, dark eyes had trailed him. When you had laughed and smiled at him, they had narrowed a fraction, and then Gojo had reached out a finger to trace the strap of your dress, the look he received could have killed. Gojo laughed. He wasn’t particularly close to Yuji’s brother, but he’d always thought of him as rather passive. How interesting.

“Cousin,” Noritoshi jerked Choso out of his thoughts with a friendly smile.

“Ah, Noritoshi,” Choso tried to rearrange his thoughts quickly. “How are you?”

Choso tried to focus on what his cousin was saying to him. Something about his father or grandfather, but truthfully Choso couldn’t concentrate on anything other than Gojo who was getting rather handsy with you. And to his dismay…you did nothing to discourage it. If anything, you were entertaining his flirting and that brought out a side of Choso that was positively cavemanish.

“Well, you’re clearly not listening,” Noritoshi raised an eyebrow at Choso and then followed the line of his gaze to you and Gojo. “Perhaps you should do something about it,” he suggested logically before walking away.

Choso thought for a moment. If it were any other occasion than Yuji’s wedding, he already would have. But his desire to be a good older brother was strong and he was resolute on not making a scene if he could avoid it. He even believed himself until Gojo wrapped his arms around your waist in a playful embrace and his control snapped. More than enough.

Yuji’s face grew comical as Choso strode across the room angrily. His eyes and mouth morphed into perfect circles when Choso bisected himself between you and Gojo.

“Hey,” Choso’s hand sifted through your hair and he pressed his lips against your forehead before he fixed Gojo with a hard stare.

“...Choso?” you blinked, suddenly hot all over at this territorial display. He was staking a claim and quite conspicuously at that.

Hearing his name from your lips, his eyes slid down to you and you were surprised at the emotion you saw brimming over in them. You squeezed your thighs together, trying to hold in the jolt of arousal that shot through you.

Yuji and Yuko’s mouths were long, matching ovals as they watched Choso all but carry you away. They blinked at each other before squealing with delight.

“Choso?” you asked, unable to bear the heavy, weighted silence filling the elevator as it ascended.

The elevator dinged to signal its arrival before Choso answered. He took your hand in his and led you to the door of his room before he met your eyes again.

“Why were you flirting with him?” His words were even and measured.

“Who, Gojo?” You asked in confusion. Gojo flirted with everyone, it hadn't been serious. And not like you had a reason not to.

“Of course Gojo,” he answered as if speaking to a child.

“It's Gojo!” you shrugged, “He's a flirt!”

“But you are not single anymore,” Choso exhaled. He leaned over you, placing a hand against the wall.

Your head jerked in surprise at this statement. You weren't?

Choso saw red when you had the audacity to look surprised. He unlocked the door and hauled you inside. He'd show you if that's what it took.

“Cho…,” his name died in your throat as you looked at him. He looked crazed. He shrugged out of his suit jacket and tugged his tie off angrily. 

You were still confused, but more pressing you were incredibly turned on at the way he got undressed. You could tell he was going to be rough and you were not against it. You tried to reach for the zipper on your dress.

“Don’t bother,” he stopped you by setting you on the edge of his bed.

His hands raked your skirts up in large handfuls, exposing your calves and thighs to him. The collar of his shirt hung open and you enjoyed a glorious view of his muscular chest. You hooked an arm around his neck, angling yourself towards him. His eyes traced a triangle…eye, lips, eye. You expected him to kiss you next, but he instead sank to his knees and dove under your skirt. He placed hot kisses up your inner thighs as he pressed them open. You were gasping like a fish out of water by the time he placed his first sloppy kiss against your overheated cunt.

“Choso!” you cried, thighs closing around his head. His fingertips bit into your flesh as he pried you back open and continued.

You moaned his name again and he grinned. That was right…Choso. He’d have you calling his name until you were seeing stars. Until it was burned into your mind. You reached for him, but your skirt was in the way. Instead you settled for placing your hand on the outline of his head through your skirt.

Choso ate you out like he was starved. He pressed lush, sloppy kisses against you. His lips pushed at the hood of your clit as his tongue swiped against your entrance. He sucked your lips into his mouth and then spread them back apart with his tongue. For lack of a better word, he was making out exuberantly with your pussy and it was incredible.

Choso felt frenzied at the sounds you made and the way you tasted. The way you kept trying to close your thighs around his ears and how you whined when he held you open for him. You had coated his mouth and chin and still he wanted more. Could stay down here forever. The pitch of your voice grew ecstatic as you clutched at him desperately. Your skirts were a rumpled mess and you warned him that you were close. He latched his lips around your clit and sucked harshly, drawing the orgasm out of you. You his name gloriously as your body tensed and you let go. Your legs grew limp and he resurfaced, looking down at you with a dripping chin.

“Choso,” you panted, out of breath and recovering. You reached for him, but he held himself cruelly out of arm’s length. He peeled the rest of his clothes off and you watched, transfixed by the expanses of skin as they were exposed to you.

Afterwards, he stood you up to face the mirror on the wall as he unzipped your dress and pulled it off of you. He grabbed you by the chin and turned your head to meet his eyes in the reflection.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he demanded as his hands traced across your skin. You shivered and goosebumps broke out at his caresses. He traced the undersides of your breasts, across your collarbones, and over the swells of your hips. His lips kissed at the side of your neck and you let out soft whimpers and squeaks at his touches.

“Choso, please…,” you whined, brows furrowing desperately at him.

“Yes, baby?” he replied, feigning clueless.

“You’re teasing,” you pouted, hoping he might be sympathetic.

“Mhm.”

“Please fuck me!” you begged.

“Not Gojo?” he arched an eyebrow.

“Choso! Fuck Gojo!” you stamped a foot with impatience.

Choso’s jaw ticked. You would do no such thing.

“Get on the bed, face the mirror,” he instructed, arranging you so that you were laying on your stomach, prone beneath him. He laid on top of you and wrapped his arms over your shoulders and grasped your chin. Again he met your eyes in the mirror and his breathing was warm and wet against your ear when he spoke. “Watch me…as I make you mine,” he purred and then his hips hitched, driving himself into you.

“Fuck!” you cried, eyes widening as you watched his reflection. His eyebrows were pinched and his grip on your chin was rough. He bucked into you, fucking you just as harshly.

“Choso,” you arched beneath him, hips lifting of their own accord until you were folded at the hips. This fucking angle…

“So pretty for me,” his eyes locked on yours.

As you held his gaze, you realized suddenly that you loved this. Adored his possession.

“Yours,” you blinked through glassy eyes, your look full of meaning.

“Mine,” he growled as he pulled you back onto himself again and again. His thrusts were deep, hard, and rhythmic and your cries of pleasure matched his pace.

Choso watched as your hands clutched at the air. Your pupils were blown out with ecstasy and you struggled to keep your eyes on him as he had requested.

“Yours, Choso,” you gasped and he felt you clench around him.

Choso drove into you and kept himself deep inside of you, his balls grinding against your clit and his head pressing against your cervix. Your eyes squeezed shut, overwhelmed by the sensation and you squeezed hard around him, orgasm ripping through you.

“Only yours,” you sighed almost sheepishly.

“Only mine,” he grunted. His chest came forward to press against your back as he emptied himself inside of you.

He rolled you both to your side, keeping himself inside of you. He pulled you close and pressed soft kisses against the top of your head.

“So…,” you spoke first. “I'm not single anymore?”

Choso managed to feel shy at your direct questioning.

“I-...,” he stammered.

“No, don't be shy now!” you tutted at him. “You were quite clear before!” you giggled.

“I'm happy to show you again…,” he rasped into the crook of your neck.

“I’m kind of a slow learner,” your lips threatened a grin as you arched into him with a satisfied purr.

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 3, Unbidden - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, alcohol consumption, minor discussions of sex, drunk!Bucky, minor violence, FloRida's Low (that song slaps, okay?), minor anti-Winter Soldier sentiment, an unnecessary Ted Bundy reference just because. As always, let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 4.1k

Previously On...: You and Bucky had a heart-to-heart after you came back from your mission with Steve, and Bucky asked a very interesting question about the nature of your relationship with the Star Spangled Man.

A/N: I just finished writing Chapter 9 ahead of schedule, so here is Chapter 3 a little bit earlier than I planned on posting it! Consider it in honor of Sergeant Barnes' 107th Birthday! This is my favorite chapter; I had so much fun writing it, this part in particular (even though it took me a million tries before I got it to where I wanted it). Sam is finally given some page time, and I adore him, so I hope I've captured his essence sufficiently. I sort of love writing drunk!Bucky. Part three is where things are going to take an interesting turn for Bucky and Pocket so I'm looking forward to posting that soon!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!)  @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @jmeelee @cazellen

Slapping your American Express Black Card onto the polished mahogany bar, you made sure the bartender was giving you his full attention. "Everything my group orders tonight goes on my tab, got it?" you told him. "If Tony Stark tries to pay for a single thing, tell him it's already covered and if he has a problem with it, he can take it up with me." The bartender nodded, taking your card and depositing it with the other open tabs behind the bar. It was going to be a very lucrative night for the bar.

You'd all come to Gino's, a downtown dive of place you all loved, to celebrate Bucky's clearance for missions. As a part of his presidential pardon for the Winter Soldier's crimes (completely unnecessary, in your opinion, because Bucky hadn’t been the one to commit them), he had been required to undertake 12 months of court-mandated therapy, and now that he had ten months under his belt, his therapist had signed her approval for Bucky to engage in real Avenger work, provided he was accompanied by another member of the team at all times for supervision. He'd be leaving tomorrow for a classified location with Steve and Sam; they'd be gone for about a week, so you'd wanted to commemorate the event and leave him with some positive memories before he left.

You rejoined your group in the far back, where you'd commandeered the largest corner booth and the surrounding tables. "Tonight's on me," you declared as you approached, "so drink up and eat well." Your friends cheered their thanks; Thor even banged his giant fist against the table in appreciation. You did a mock curtsey before coming to stand behind Bucky where he sat, draping your arms around his neck and shoulders and bringing your head down alongside his.

"Having a good time?" you asked him.

Bucky let out a soft chuckle, leaning back into your touch. "With you by my side? Always," he replied, his voice laced with affection. "But you didn't have to do this, doll. Pay for everything, I mean. We could have all gotten our own."

Letting go of his shoulders, you moved around to sit next to him. "Bullshit. My best friend is going on his first Avengers mission, this is the least I can do."

"Listen, man," said Sam Wilson, also known as The Falcon and, if you were being completely honest, one of your favorite teammates after Bucky, "I know things might have been different when you were younger, but in the 21st Century, when a lady offers to buy you drinks, the polite thing to do is just say 'thank you' and get hammered."

Bucky laughed and chugged down the beer he'd been previously nursing and took the bourbon you'd brought over for him from the bar. "Thank you, Pocket. Though, I don't think I'll be getting... hammered on anything here."

"You're most welcome, Buck," you said, patting his cheek, the stubble tickling at your palm. "But if you are looking to get hammered, I believe our resident God of Thunder has brought a little something extra you could sip on in between beers." You nodded your head toward Thor, who sat a few seats down, pouring a splash of Asgardian something from a flask into Steve's tumbler.

Bucky quirked an eyebrow. "Is that so? Maybe I'll take him up on that." The super soldier got up and, squeezing your hand, made his way over to Thor, who gladly poured a generous splash of spirits into Bucky's glass of bourbon.

You watched him for a moment as he sat and drank with Steve and Thor, a warm feeling building in your chest at the sight of him looking and doing so well. He'd made so much progress since he first arrived at the Tower and you were unbelievably proud of him.

"You've been good for him, Pocket," Sam offered with a raise of his glass. "But I gotta know, when are you two gonna stop tip-toeing around each other and make things official?"

You let out an agonized groan. "Not you, too, Sam. Why don't you and Natty get together and write some fanfic about it? That's about as close to reality as it'll get."

"What are Wilson and I collaborating to write smutty fanfiction about?" Natasha asked as she sat down in Bucky's vacated seat, passing you a shot glass.

"Za nashu druzhbu!" You toasted in unison before downing the sweet liquid. To our friendship!

"A Redheaded Slut shot? How very Natasha," you teased.

"Don't try to change the subject," Sam interjected. "Romanoff: (Y/L/N) and Barnes. They go together like Netflix and chill or what?"

Natasha's eyes lit up. "Absolutely! Oh my God; I'm so glad you see it, too. They're just screaming 'Let's fuck already,' right?!"

"I don't know that they haven't started already," Sam said, obviously pleased to finally have someone to talk about this with. "I've never seen Metalhead as content as when he's with Pocket. Figure she's gotta be doing something to keep a smile on his face, if you know what I mean." He waggled his eyebrows, setting Natasha off into a barking laugh.

"Jesus Christ, Sam!" you sputtered. "I'm sitting right fucking here!"

Sam gave you a sheepish smile. "Sorry, Baby Girl. 'M just calling it like I see it. And with you and Barnes, I see it."

"She's going to stick to the story that nothing's going on between them," Nat began.

"Because there is nothing going on between us," you interrupted.

"But I think we all know something is brewing between those two," she continued, as if you hadn't said a thing. "I mean, do you really think they're just sleeping in the same bed every night?"

"Hold up, hold up." Sam raised his hand to stop Nat. "You're telling me those two share a bed? How long has this been going on and why am I just hearing about it now?"

"Oh my god," you said, putting your head in your hands and wishing the floor would open up and suck you into a hell dimension. It had to be better than sitting here listening to the two of them talk as if weren't in the room.

"You didn't know?!" Nat's expression was incredulous. "Essentially since the moment Barnes moved into the Tower. They alternate whose bed they sleep in, but it's literally every. single. night."

"That's it," you murmured, though you were sure they weren't paying you any attention, "I am never telling you another thing, ever, Natalia." They weren't embarrassing you, per se. You felt no shame about your closeness with Bucky. It was more that you hated that they were making assumptions about him. You could take ones made about you; you'd been doing that your entire life, but Bucky was different. He was... fragile wasn't the right word, but it came close. You wanted to protect him from everything negative, including your friends gossiping about his alleged sex life.

"Guys, please," you said, loud enough to catch their attention. "I know that, whatever I say, it's not going to convince you that I'm telling you the truth, but I don't want Bucky to hear it, okay? You're just going to make him uncomfortable and he'll retreat into himself, close up. So, save it for when you're by yourselves, alright?"

The sincerity in your words caused Sam and Nat's gazes to soften as they looked at you. You hoped that, despite their ribbing, they understood that your concern for your shared friend was genuine, and that, of the three of you sitting at the table, you knew Bucky best.

"Alright," said Sam, "I'll drop it. For now. But know I've got my eye on you, Pocket." He gave you a shrewd look. "Don't think you can keep your secret from Ole Sammy forever."

You shook your head, annoyingly amused.

The evening moved on pleasantly: conversation and alcohol flowed, and you felt yourself loosening up as the shots you'd drank with Natasha worked their way through your system until you were sporting a pleasant buzz. Bucky eventually came back to join you at your table, eyes glassy and with a giant, dopey grin plastered across his face.

"How's that Asgardian liquor treating you, Buckaroo?" you asked him with a grin of your own, knowing full well he was sauced.

"'s real good, Pocket," he slurred, propping his head on his fist and gazing at you with a dreamy expression. "'s nice and tingly, like the sun is shining on my insides."

"I'm happy for you, Buck," you said with a laugh, shooting an amused glance over Bucky's head to Nat, who responded with a smirk of her own. "That's real good."

He put his arms around you and pulled you into him, almost tugging you off of your chair in the process. "No! You're real good. Sho good to me, all warm and fuzzy and pretty. Just wanna keep touchin' you, you know? 'Cause you make me think of happy things." He paused to nuzzle his face into your hair. "You're m'favorite person."

"You're my favorite person, too, Buck," you said, stifling a giggle, amused by this new soft, silly side of him.

"Me?" he squeaked--actually squeaked. You nodded and then let out a surprised squeal as he pulled you into his lap, holding you almost tight enough to be uncomfortable, his metal arm clinging you to his chest. But then he pulled his head back to look you in the eye, his face suddenly serious.

He slurred, leaning in closer. You could smell the sweet scent of the Asgardian liquor on his breath. "Don'tcha dare tell Stevie, though, doll" he hiccupped, "'cause he'd be real put out if he found out I was your fav'rite."

"Well, then we won't tell him," you assured him, casting a bewildered glance to Nat. She subtly shook her head, as if to say she was just as confused as you as to why Steve would care if Bucky was your favorite person.

Bucky nodded solemnly. "Good. Don't want 'im feelin' bad, but 'm not sorry. 'S not my fault, either. He had ages and he didn't do nuthin'. That's on 'im. Not on me, not on you. On 'im." He began petting your hair in long strokes, seemingly distracted by the feel of it and losing his original train of thought. "Mmmm, you're so pretty. M'pretty little Pocket."

"Why, thank you, my handsome soldier," you replied, tapping him playfully on the nose while wondering what the hell he had been going on about concerning Steve. You hoped he wasn't so drunk that he didn't remember this conversation in the morning, because you were going to press the shit out of him for details.

Oh, but then... the next song from the jukebox caught your attention, and you looked up as the opening bars of Flo Rida's Low filled the air.

"Oh no," moaned Nat with a trace of laughter. "You're gonna dance, aren't you?"

A broad grin broke across your face. You loved dancing to anything, but this song was your kryptonite. "I can't help it," you told her, "it calls me, I come. Let's go!" You stood up, taking Bucky's hand and trying to pull him along with you, but the super soldier just shook his head and refused to move. Apparently he wasn't that drunk. "Fine. Sam, Nat, dance with me."

"I'm coming, Baby Girl," Sam said, taking Nat's hand and dragging her to meet you.

As soon as you had the space, you began to move, the music pulsing through your veins, syncing perfectly with your heartbeat. You swayed your hips in time with the infectious rhythm, your body moving effortlessly to the beat.

You felt Sam come up behind you, placing his hands on your hips as he began to dance with you, bass thumping in your chests. You and Sam had danced together countless times before; he was one of the only ones in the Tower who enjoyed dancing as much as you did, so the two of you had had plenty of practice moving together. Your movements may have been completely innocent, but they gave the appearance of something much more intimate-- it was just the nature of the dance. You could feel the heat of Sam's body pressed against your back, the way his hands gripped your hips protectively. It was all in good fun, a playful dance between friends, until you felt Sam's hands fly from your waist as you were about to get low.

You spun around, finding Bucky standing where Sam had been just a few seconds before, Sam now several feet away, anger wearing heavy on his face.

"What the hell, man?" Sam barked at Bucky. "What'd you shove me for?"

Bucky, his face flushed and eyes narrowed with a combination of intoxication and something dark, took a step towards Sam. "Didn't shove ya, Wilson," he slurred, his words blending together. "Ya just...got in the way."

"Got in the way? Man, we were just dancing. How was I in your way?"

Bucky's jaw clenched, his metal arm flexing by his side. The atmosphere shifted, thick with tension, as if the air in the room had suddenly turned molasses-slow.

"Okay, boys." You stepped between them, hands down and palms open, trying to create as much distance between the two as possible. The last thing you wanted was a drunken argument devolving into some kind of brawl. "It's getting late, and we've all had a good amount to drink." You gave Sam a pointed glance. "Bucky, will you take me home to the Tower? I'm pretty tired and I think I'm ready to call it a night."

Sam nodded in understanding-- it would be a hell of a lot easier to get Bucky home in his current state if he thought he was escorting you, instead of the other way around.

"Yeah, 'course, Pocket," Bucky said, his eyes softening as he looked at you. You were able to call out your goodnights to the rest of the team and, leaving instructions with Nat to close out your tab at the end of the night, began making your way to the door. Bucky stumbled a bit, his balance compromised by the alcohol in his system. You wrapped an arm around him, steadying him as you both made your way outside.

Outside the bar, the cool night air was a welcome relief from the noisy atmosphere inside. Bucky leaned heavily against you, his arm draped around your shoulders for support.

"Fuck, Barnes. You're heavy," you groaned under his weight.

"Fuck me, Pocket," he slurred, head tilting to the side. There was that look in his eyes again. The same one you'd seen the day he'd gotten his new arm. You couldn't identify it, but it made the hair on your arms stand up straight.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I said." You could feel his warmth seeping through your clothes, his presence comforting even in his intoxicated state.

"You good to stand on your own for a second, soldier?" you asked him. "I need to hail us a cab."

Bucky nodded and you carefully eased yourself out from under his arm, scanning the street for a taxi. The bustling city night was alive with lights and sounds, creating a tapestry of urban energy that seemed to match the frequency of the electricity that ran through your brain.

God, did you love this city.

As you raised your hand to flag down a cab, you couldn't help but steal glances at Bucky, his hair in disarray, falling into his eyes and his lips slightly parted as he breathed in the cool night air. Even drunk and disheveled, he still looked so handsome. There was a softness to him in the moment that made him look younger, and for a second, you could imagine that beautiful, carefree young man who had been drafted to cross the sea to fight someone else's war, and had paid for it with even more than his life.

A taxi screeched to a stop in front of you, interrupting your reverie. You hurriedly opened the door and helped Bucky inside, sliding in beside him. The cab driver gave you both a curious glance before pulling away from the curb. Once you gave him the address to Avengers Tower, that look got more and more frequent as he kept checking his rear view mirror.

"Hey, eyes on the road, buddy," you snapped at him, probably putting more aggression into your voice than you had intended, but the way the cab driver was looking at the two of you made you uneasy.

The ride back to the Tower was quiet, the low hum of the taxi's engine serving as a backdrop to the thoughts swirling in your mind. Bucky slumped against you, his head resting on your shoulder as he dozed off. You gently ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the softness of it against your skin. The city lights blurred past outside the window, casting a hazy glow over both of you.

"Listen," the cabbie eventually began in his thick New Jersey accent, "sweetheart, ya seem like a nice girl, but I don't think ya know what you're dealin' with, here. That man right there's the Winter Soldier. He's a murderer, a nasty one. The kind that likes to take a sweet thing like you and do horrible things."

You rolled your eyes. If they were going to keep telling stories about the Winter Soldier, the least they could do was get the details right instead of making him sound like Ted Fucking Bundy.

"This nasty murderer is my best friend," you said, each word clipped and infused with the anger you felt on Bucky's behalf. "So, maybe you should stick with getting us to our destination instead of trying to lecture me on something you know absolutely nothing about."

The cabbie fell silent, his eyes darting nervously between the road ahead and the rearview mirror. You could tell that he was regretting his decision to say anything, realizing that he had struck a nerve. Or, you thought with an amused chuckle, afraid that you were just as nasty as the Winter Soldier. But you couldn't blame him entirely. The reputation of the Winter Soldier was notorious, and it was only natural for people to be cautious. You just wished they knew the name Bucky Barnes, and the actual man, himself, just as well.

You sighed and shifted your gaze to Bucky, still unconscious against your shoulder. It wasn't fair, you thought, how people judged him solely based on his past. Yes, there were dark chapters in his history, but he had fought tooth and nail to regain control over his life. He had redeemed himself in countless ways even before he had officially joined the Avengers.

As the taxi approached Avengers Tower, you leaned over and gently shook Bucky awake. His eyes fluttered open, confusion etched in his features for a brief moment before recognition set in.

"We're home, Buck," you whispered softly, trying to soothe away any lingering unease from your brief conversation with the cab driver. "Let's get you upstairs." You threw a handful of bills in the cabbie's direction, not even bothering to wait for him to give you your change; you just wanted out of his cab and away from his prejudice.

Bucky nodded, rubbing sleep from his eyes. With your help, he stumbled out of the taxi and leaned on you for support as you made your way into the building.

"'m sorry 'bout that, doll," he drawled as you passed the security desk, sending a quick wave to the night guard.

"Sorry for what, Buck?" you asked him. He was silent as you made your way to the elevator bay, waiting until you had pressed the button to summon the elevator car.

"'bout the cabbie." He avoided looking at you while you waited, and it was like a punch to your gut-- he'd heard everything that ignorant man had said. The elevator doors dinged open and you helped usher him inside.

You took a deep breath as you pressed the button for your floor, the retinal scanner making quick work to prove your identity and verify your security clearance. "Buck," you exhaled, "you have nothing to apologize for. That man was an asshole and an idiot."

Bucky leaned back against the elevator wall, his head thumping against the cool metal. "But he was right. I am a nasty murderer."

You could scream. You could strangle that cabbie with your bare hands. Bucky had been doing so well, had been having such a good night, and one person's careless remark had ruined all of it.

"Barnes," you said, turning to face him. "Look at me. Do you think I'm stupid?"

His eyes grew wide at the insinuation, even in his drunk state, he was with it enough to be taken aback by your question. "'bsolutely not, doll. You're the smartest person I know. Smarter than Stark, even, 'cause you can admit when your wrong." The compliment left you trying to hide a smile.

"Okay. Do you trust my judgment?"

"With my life," he breathed. The elevator opened to your floor, and you helped Bucky out into the hall and down the corridor toward his room. The soft glow of the hallway lights illuminated his features, casting a warm, intimate aura around the two of you.

"So, if I'm not stupid and you trust my judgment, trust me when I tell you are not what that man says you are. You are a good man who had too many horrible things happen to him. And despite all those horrible things, you are still the kindest, funniest, most gentle man that I know."

As you reached his door, Bucky turned to face you, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability. "Thank you, Pocket. Thank you for taking care of me, and for being my friend," he murmured, his voice hoarse with exhaustion and emotion.

A small smile played on your lips. "Always, Buck," you replied softly. "Now let's get you inside."

With a gentle push, you opened the door to his room and guided him over to his bed. Bucky collapsed onto the mattress with a heavy sigh, his body sinking into the softness beneath him. Once you'd pulled off his boots, you knelt down beside him, tucking the blanket around his shoulders.

As you straightened up, Bucky reached out and grabbed your hand, his grip surprisingly strong despite his intoxicated state. His gaze locked with yours, a mix of vulnerability and longing flickering in his eyes.

"I don't want you to leave," he whispered, his voice laced with a hint of desperation.

"I'm just going to hop over to my room to change into pajamas," you assured him. "I'll be right back. Promise." You smoothed his hair, trying to tame it from where it stood up in all directions.

"'kay," he said through a yawn, "but don't take too long. I got somethin' I need to tell ya. 's important."

"Okay," you told him, planting a kiss on his head. "I'll be just a minute." You hurried across the hall to your own room, changing into your pajamas and brushing your teeth in record time.

Re-entering Bucky's room, you were extremely curious as to what he'd wanted to say to you. "Alright, Buckaroo, I'm back. What did you--"

You smiled to yourself. Bucky was fast asleep, light snores emanating from him as he lay sprawled across the bed. You couldn't help but find him adorable in his slumber, especially with his hair sticking up in all directions.

With a soft sigh, you walked over to the side of the bed and gently sat down, watching Bucky's peaceful face. It was moments like these that reminded you of how much he had been through, how much pain and loss he had experienced. Despite his tough exterior, there was a vulnerability about him that tugged at your heartstrings.

You leaned in closer, unable to resist the urge to brush a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. Your fingers lingered on his skin for a moment longer than necessary, feeling the warmth radiating from him. The desire to protect and comfort him overwhelmed you, making your heart ache with affection, and something else that you couldn't quite identify.

Pulling down the covers, you climbed into bed next to him, snuggling up to his body for warmth. He grunted and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer to him. It wasn't long before you drifted off into a slumber of your own.

<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->

[springseasonie]

Overtime | KDY (M)

Ceo Doyoung x Secretary fem reader

Summary: You and Doyoung stay late at the office and have a long extensive conversation about life, work, and other things. Doyoung's life motto is never mix personal life with work, but his mini crush on his secretary becomes bigger than life all on this night.

Warnings: sexual content, age gap (legal!!! doyoung is older), oral (fem receiving), unprotected, pull out method, proofread (kinda, I'm tired)

Word count: 5,7k

Song recs: thinkin bout you by Katie

A/N: took longer than I expected with this one. I've been in a writing slump for the past week so I'm sorry if this sucks. The smutty words don't come out the same as they used to lmao. Feedback is loved and appreciated 🫶🏾

You would've never taken this job if you knew your boss would be this hot.

Applying for the secretary position at a world famous company was not in your plan after college, but it just happened. You especially didn't expect to get hired. Now you've been working for 2 years and can't say that you would choose anything else, especially when you get to work so close to eye candy every day.

Kim Doyoung. He's the youngest successful single man in Seoul at 38 years old. No, he's not old, but he is way older than you in most people's standards. You never really had a thing for older men, but when you met Doyoung, you could say opposites attract. You would always try and hide your staring, sometimes he would catch you. He knows he is handsome, he's been told many times, but you're the only person who has ever worked for him that has never kissed his ass no matter how attractive you found him. He enjoyed having you around, having someone who wasn't a yes man.

Instead of going home, you were sitting at your desk finishing something you should've some ages ago. You were a huge procrastinator and he knew this. At first, it was something he hated about you. All of his other secretaries were very punctual while you did things late. However, you were way more detailed in your work, way more careful with his needs and schedule so he let it go.

"Why do I do this to myself," you groaned. You finished the last couple of words on the screen, aggressively pushing the period key with a sigh. "And all done." Now all you had to do was print the paper and leave it on Doyoung's desk for the morning. You pressed the tiny print pop up, watching the machine pump the papers out the front. Once it was done, you stapled them together.

Standing, you walk from around your desk and towards Doyoung's office. The sound of your heels filled the silent dimly lit hall, making you hum in delight. Although you hated staying to work late, you couldn't deny the atmosphere of an empty office. How peaceful it was, how strangely free you felt. Reaching Doyoung's office you noticed the door was left slightly ajar.

"Weird," you say to yourself. "He always leaves it shut." You walk in looking at your feet not expecting to hear anything.

"Oh you're here too?"

You jump, startled at the voice of your boss, looking up as you looked at his figure being lit up by his lamp. Blinking rapidly trying to regain your composure, you clear your throat shaking off your very clean dress. "M-Mr. Kim you surprised me," you say, a relaxed attitude faltering.

Doyoung watched you straighten your back, chuckling to himself as he stood up from his desk. "Relax, you don't need to be so formal. It's just you and me here."

You try to loosen up a bit, but he makes you so nervous especially when you're alone with him. You find him to be very intimidating. From how he speaks to how he dresses to even his favorite foods - Doyoung is a super classy man, way different from you. You gulp, placing the papers on his desk. "Here is the report for all the departments from this week. There were some last minute changes so…yeah."

Doyoung picks up the packet, flipping through the pages as you stand there with your hands folded in front of you. The room was silent, just the sound of him flipping rh pages was heard. You were in his office often, but never this late. Your eyes shifted around the room, taking in your surroundings. It was a cozy space, city lights in the big windows, every shelf stacked with something work related or some random object.

Doyoung had a picture of his family on one of the bookshelves, a picture of himself in his early teens with his parents and older brother. He hates that picture, always saying it reminded him of his hard life growing up. Doyoung didn't talk about his personal life much, his number one rule for all his employees and himself being don't let work and life mix. But working so closely with him has made you learn things about him he'd rather no one know, like how many times his mother has tried to set him up with some pretty rich woman or how many times his father needs meetings to berate his son.

Doyoung puts the papers down without a word. You started to turn on your heels, about to leave when he speaks up.

"Could you…stay for a bit," he says in a deep voice echoing in the quiet room. "I won't keep you long, just want a bit of company that's all."

You turn around with an awkward smile on your lips, clearing your throat. "Yeah sure, I don't mind."

Doyoung stood up from his seat, giving you a full view of his messy image. Tie loosened, shirt a bit unbuttoned - he was so attractive it pained you. He walked to the window behind him, leaning on the glass as he stared out at the huge city below the both of you. "You don't have to stand all the way over there you know."

"Oh.. right." You walked over to him, standing a distance away as you looked out the window.

"It's pretty right," he said, glancing at you. "I love this view at night."

"Me too."

And right back to silence, but instead of it being stiff, it felt comfortable. Neither of you noticed the glances the both of you kept sneaking at each other. But for a while you stopped looking at him and just leaned on the window taking in the pretty scenery. Doyoung looked at you, tracing your face with his eyes. He always thought you were pretty, knowing that he would probably ask you out if you weren't working under him. He still thinks about the first day he met you. You were a complete mess, just graduated and working 2 jobs to keep yourself afloat at the time he interviewed you. It was obvious you lived off coffee, eye bags couldn't even be hidden under your makeup. Now you're doing good for yourself. You seem happier, less stressed, and have really grown into your age.

Doyoung hates how much older he is than you. Not many girls your age would be into someone near their 40s in his mind, so for a while including now he pushed the thought to the back of his mind.

"So," he finally spoke up. "How was your day?"

"Oh, uh, well," you laughed awkwardly. "It was okay. I did what I usually do."

"Sit there and drink coffee," he joked, making both of you laugh.

"I do…other things," you said between giggles. "How was your day?"

"You already know that information," he said, letting out a deep sigh. Doyoung had a hard day, dealing with unreasonable clients and frustrating employees. You know how stressed he is all the time and you feel bad for him.

You wanted to say something but you didn't. You had no idea what to say to make him feel a bit happier. You were only his secretary after all, there's not much you can say without crossing lines, but that's what he likes about you. Sometimes you were so oblivious as to what was acceptable to say and what wasn't. You never dared to overstep boundaries, but it just happened.

"Do you ever feel like there's something in your life that's missing," he asked suddenly.

You look over to him, his face hard in concentration as he stares at the city lights. "What do you mean?"

"Like…you're doing something not because you enjoy it, but because it keeps you alive," he explains. You and Doyoung feel the air around the both of you become heavy with the sudden change in topic. Doyoung never had these kinds of conversations with you in the 2 years you've been working with him. In fact, he's never vulnerable with anyone about anything, not even the people he considered close friends.

"Well," you started slowly. "I do feel that way."

He turns to you, watching how your eyes shine in the light. "Was it when you started working for me?"

You glanced at him, giving him a small laugh. "Do you want the honest answer?"

"I want whatever answer will help me through this dilemma,* he sighs, pushing his hair back.

"I know you don't know a lot about me." You begin to relax as you start talking, leaning on the window. "I wanted to be an artist for a while. I grew up drawing, painting, the whole lot of stuff. My parents thought it was just a hobby and they were right for a while because then I fell in love with writing."

"Is that why you got a journalism degree," he interrupted.

"Yeah…that's right," you laugh softly. "Did I tell you this story before?"

"No I just…" Doyoung stopped talking seeing your playful smile, heat flying to his ears making them red. You were so pretty to him, especially in this light. "Sorry, you can continue."

"It's okay," you chuckle softly. "Anyway, I loved telling stories and wrote things in private all the time, but storybooks weren't going to pay the bills so I had to take up informative writing. Fast forward to my third year and I start realizing how much I hate what I'm doing. My love for art comes back and I start drawing more than writing essays. That's when I realized I wanted to make comics."

Doyoung stands there with his arms crossed, trying so hard to pay attention to listen to you, but he couldn't get over how pretty your lips looked, How nice your voice sounded. His eyes traveled to your neck, his next thought immediately flying to how good you smell when you’re next to him. And your hands, goodness he loves your hands. They would brush against his sometimes, the thought of how soft they would feel on his-

"Mr. Kim?"

He blinked, head being pulled out of his inner thoughts by your voice. He couldn't believe he zoned out while you spoke. Doyoung gulped, realizing the kind of image his brain almost created. "Yes? I'm sorry I zoned out. I'm just a little tired."

You gave him a small laugh and understanding smiles, nodding at his words. "I understand, I'm tired too so I'll keep it short. Sometimes we will feel periods of emptiness in the things we do no matter if we love them or not. We just have to remember everything that makes it worth it, not matter what." You stopped talking when you felt Doyoung's eyes on you, boring into your soul.

"Do you feel like working here is worth it?"

There is a kind of tenderness in Doyoung's eyes that you don't get to see often. The last time you saw this look was when he was telling a memory of him and his brother when they were kids. "Yeah, I feel like it's worth it."

"Well I'm glad," he says, looking back out into the city. "For someone so young, I didn't expect you to have a lot of profound things to say."

"I'm not that young. And you aren't that old" you say, laughing at his expression. "Not to pry of course, but why do you feel like something is missing?" He remains quiet and his relaxed expression turns stern, a frown on his face almost immediately. You panicked thinking that you pushed too far past the line. "I'm sorry, you really don't have to answer Mr. Kim, I was just-"

"It's okay, you did nothing wrong," he said, trying to reassure you. "My mother makes me feel like a shit show because I'm not looking for anyone to marry."

You opened your mouth to speak, but stopped. This problem of his was completely beyond you. It's not a surprise that he's been avoiding his mother, their family issues all over the tabloids. you wish you could be some sort of support system for him, but you know you can't get that close to him.

"You don't have to say anything. I know you have nothing to say."

"Yeah, I'm sorry," you mumbled. "I know things have been rough with you and your mom these days."

Doyoung blinked and looked over to you. His lips parted, tongue darting out slowly against his lips, wetting them before speaking."You know you're the only person to talk to me like a regular guy?"

You whip your head to him, gulping at his words. "Oh, i must've gotten too comfortable Mr. Kim-"

"I like that you talk to me like a regular person," he chuckled.

You give him a soft laugh, shaking your head. The way doyoung looks at you makes you feel something you shouldn't feel for your boss. But his eyes are piercing, full of emotion and it makes you fall deeper into him. You didn't want to ruin the mood, but you would feel bad if you didn't tell him what happened earlier that day. "Mr. Kim….your mother called the office."

Doyoung sighed, running his face in his hand. "What did she say?"

"Something about," you started hesitantly. "You blocking her number, not going to events, not dating…"

"That old lady always has something to complain about," he sighed. "Thank you for telling me."

You nodded, pressing your lips into a thin line to keep silent. But sometimes you just speak and say things you probably shouldn't, because the way doyoung looks at you for your next sentence makes you want to crawl into a dark corner.

"Well, dating shouldn't be hard for you," you said.

He raised a brow, a smirk pulling on his lips slowly. "What do you mean?"

"W-well I mean you're…" you paused, eyeing him up and down awkwardly.

"I'm…?"

"You're you," you said a bit more enthusiastically than you wanted to. "Well what I wanted to say was that you're rich, handsome…."

"Is that it? Just rich and handsome," he joked, but you didn't take it as a joke. You already overstepped the boundaries multiple times in the last 30 minutes, this could probably be the only moment to save your job.

"N-no! You're funny and honest, fun to talk to. And even though you have this rough guy thing going on, I think you're a pretty soft guy," you said, lips moving 40 miles per hour.

He gave you a chuckle, one that sounded genuine and warm which surprised you. "Ms. Y/n, are you flirting with me right now?"

You blinked rapidly, shaking your head and hands silently as you panicked, making the male laugh. You said no, but he was secretly hoping that you were. He wanted to know if you were as attracted to him as he was to you. He couldn't help himself.

"You're not too bad yourself," he said, turning back to the window.

"Thank you…. you're too nice, but you don't really mean that."

"No, I'm serious," he continued. "You're cool and fun, not too serious but can be serious when you need to be."

Your face was beginning to get hot, fingers gittering at your sides. You couldn't even look at him, afraid you would probably go crazy. You really hoped he would stop talking, but he didn't. It stressed you out.

"Not to mention, you're beautiful."

You gave him a small laugh, trying to cover up the very obvious mental breakdown you were about to have. "Mr.Kim please-"

"You're beautiful. You have the best laugh and the prettiest smile." doyoung was slowly walking towards you, making your body stiffen as he came closer. His gaze was hungry, not able to suppress his desires for you any longer. It was terrible of him, he knew it, he was your boss and practically preying on you at the moment. He was doing something he hated, but he knew you wanted it too.

Doyoung was so close to you, body looking over yours as he stared down at your flustered face. "Mr.Kim-"

"Call me Doyoung."

"But I can't-"

"Yes you can." He spoke so quietly and softly, eyes flickering from yours to your lips. "I wanna hear you say it so I can say I love the way you say my name too."

You were quickly falling under whatever spell he was starting to put you under as he spoke. Your lids dropped, breathing heavily as his hands left his sides and made their way to your waist. "D-Doyoung," you said breathlessly, heart beating faster in his grasp.

He nodded slightly, a smile curling on his lips as he pulled your body closer to his, pressing his chest against yours. "Again."

You gulp, shaking your head as you remove his hands from your waist. "I…we can't do this. I-I'm your secretary."

"Secretary who I like very much." You make it so hard for him to not want to push your buttons a little more. Was doyoung really about to risk everything he built up just to kiss you? Yes, yes he was. Not one of his smartest decisions, but he trusted you. "I liked you for a very long time, you know."

"Really," you ask, brows scrunching slightly.

"Mhm." Doyoung put his hands back on your waist, the adoration in his eyes turning to lust. "I'm doing this against my better judgment, and you know how much I cherish my judgment."

Before you knew it, your eyes fluttered shut and you were the one kissing him instead. Your lips melted into his, hands moving to his shoulder as you pulled him closer. Doyoung kisses you back softly, moving his hands under your blazer squeezing your waist. He felt how raged your breathing was, your heartbeat speeding up as he fondled your body in his hands.

You pulled away, refusing to look at him. He knew you liked him as much as he liked you - it was obvious by the smirk on his face. It was only supposed to be a kiss and end there, but your mind drifted to a place it wasn't supposed to go.

"I need to go home," you said, letting out a sigh.

"No you don't," he protested softly. "I know you don't want to either."

"Mr. Kim-"

"Doyoung," he said. "I want you to call me by name."

"Doyoung," you started, making him smile. "What are you trying to do right now? I mean, we are attracted to each other but this.. what will people think?"

"People won't know unless we tell them," he says nonchalantly. "Besides, I own the entire building you're standing in right now. Whatever I say goes, and I'll never let anyone hurt you."

You looked up at him, worry still painting your face, but you nodded anyway. "Okay, I trust you."

"Good. You should always trust me." He cupped your face softly, kissing you deeply. You kissed him back, lips molding with his just like how you imagined. You wanted to take advantage of this moment while you had it, so you took your hands off his shoulders taking your blazer off. Letting the jacket fall to the floor, you reached back to Doyoung's chest, pulling his tie off him and placing it on his desk.

"I wanna take care of you," he said quietly. "Would you let me do that?"

"Yes." Your answer came out as a whisper as you unbuttoned the rest of his shirt. Doyoung watched you with a hazy expression. your concentrated desperate appearance was doing something to him, he just wanted to fuck you against the window make you cry out his name. He thought it was too cute how your hands were trembling as you unbuttoned his shirt. The only time he sees you this nervous is when he reprimands you for something you may do wrong.

Doyoung slowly starts to pull your tucked blouse out your pencil skirt, making your breath hitch in your throat. "Is this okay with you?"

You nod, removing your hands from his shirt to allow him to pull the fabric off of you. Doyoung marveled at your body. He felt guilty knowing how many times he's fantasized about this moment, the thought of touching you on his mind heavy sometimes. But the guilt went away when he made contact with your skin. Doyoung pulled you closer to him, kissing you as his hands slowly went up your body. He groped you not too roughly to make you flustered, but just enough to enjoy your small gasp. His hand squeezed and massaged your left breast.

"Should I take it off," you mumble as he plays with the lace on your bra. You wait for an answer, but his eyes and hand are too focused on the lace, the only thing going through his head was how pretty the color looked against your skin.

"No," he said, shaking his head. You watched him unbutton and unzip the side of your skirt, cock twitching his pants from excitement. "Let me help you relieve some of your stress from today. I wanna taste you Y/N."

"Can you," you said breathlessly, begging, making him smile too. He tugged your skirt down your legs, fabric bunching around your heels.

"Get on the desk." Doyoung watches you hop on his perfectly organized desk, spreading your legs almost immediately. Your eyes widened at how fast he dropped to the floor, his actions making you even more wet than before.

“I thought about this alot Mr. Kim,” you admitted, eyes glossed from how turned on you were. "I fucking dreamed about this."

"Oh yeah?" Doyoung's entire shirt was off by this point, the expensive fabric laying, somewhere on the floor. His soft hands made their way up your legs, leaning into your inner thighs. He kisses the soft spot of your thighs, making your body shudder sensitively. Doyoung hooked his fingers around your panties, tugging at them to pull the fabric off. You lifted your hips, allowing him to pull them down your legs and off your ankles swiftly.

Doyoung couldn't take his eyes off the sight between your legs. You were glistening, so wet it got on his desk. "Fuck.. you're so pretty baby."

"Don't stare." You started to close your legs, but doyoung forced them back apart, leaning into the closer. You could feel his heavy breathing on your wet core as he kissed your inner thighs.

"Don't get all shy on me now." He placed a soft kiss on your clit, eyes never leaving your face. You let out a soft sigh when he licked your core softly, collecting your arousal on his tongue. Doyoung licks at your clit softly, adding pressure with every other movement. He always thought about what you would sound like, if you were loud or silent, but your soft moans at the moment were prettier than ever. Doyoung sucked your clit softly, making you throw your head back slightly.

"You like that?" Doyoung did it again, smirking to himself when you scrunch your brows.

"Yeah," you sigh, nodding. Doyoung continues to eat you out, your hands tangling in his hair as he licks at you feverishly. His tongue flicked your clit fast, making you tug his hair a bit. "If you do that I'll cum fast," you moaned softly.

He chuckled softly, sucking your clit harshly right after.

"D-Doyoung oh my god," you whimpered, legs starting to come together. He swiftly pushed them apart, allowing you to tug his face closer to your core. Doyoung watched you with a hazy expression as you grinded on his face, hands gripping your thighs. He flattened his tongue against you, letting you grind your core. Your arousal was all over his mouth, his nose constantly nudging your clit every time you moved. Even in the dark in his office he could still see the look of absolute pleasure on your face, taking in the desperation to cum in your eyes and the way your hand trembled on the back of his head.

"I'm so close Doie," you whined softly, making the man below your chuckle softly.

"Doie?"

You paused, looking down at him with sudden alertness. "I'm sorry, if you don't like it, I-"

"No, I love it." He attached his mouth back to your core, sucking and licking at you. "I love it so fucking much."

You threw your head back, brows scrunching as the pleasure continued to build in your stomach. Your moans built higher in pitch, noises so loud the janitors on the floor below could probably hear you. Doyoung moans on your core, the vibrations on your clit driving you mad.

"Cum babygirl, cum for me."

You let go, cumming on his tongue, his lips, his face. Doyoung didn't let up though, still licking up all your release as your legs shook, trying to clamp around his head from the over stimulation. You whined loudly, the feeling of his nose nudging against your sensitive clit making you tear up. After a couple more seconds of overstimulation, Doyoung stopped, looking up at you with the most fucked out expression you've ever seen from anyone.

"Fuck," you laughed softly, "we can add head to list of things I like about you."

"Trust me I can do a lot more than just that." He rose to his feet, immediately pulling you closer to him in a heated kiss. You moaned softly, tasting yourself on his lips and tongue.

"Yeah?" You smiled against his lips, adding tongue into the kiss as you cupped his face softly. You gasp softly as you part your lips from his, looking down at his hand that was now between your legs, fingers rubbing your clit slowly.

"God you're so cute," he chuckled softly. "Cute face, cute tits, cute moans, cute pussy." His deep voice rang through your ears, adding pleasure already soaring through your body. Doyoung kissed your neck, nipping at the skin playfully as he sped up his fingers. He pulled your breast out of the fabric of your bra, enjoying the way you hid your face in his neck at your exposed state. "I'm gonna fuck this cute pussy. How does that sound?"

"Please fuck me," you whined breathlessly, brows furrowing as his mouth attached to your nipple. "I need you so bad, Doie."

Doyoung lifted himself off your body, watching you waste no time in trying to undo his belt. Your fingers fumbled, nails getting in the way of getting it off easily. Doyoung smiled to himself as you struggled, tears pricking the corners of your eyes in frustration. "Calm down, I'm not going anywhere, pretty girl," he said soothingly. He gently removed your hands from his belt, undoing it himself.

Your mouth watered, gulping as you watched him unzip his pants. Doyoung loved watching your reactions, purposely taking his time in front of your impatient disposition. He slowly pulled himself out his pants and boxers, his tip leaking precum as it hit his navel.

You jumped off the desk, running your hands down his chest as you kissed him deeply, biting his lip softly. "Need you to fuck me real good Mr. Kim," you mumbled against his lips.

"Bend over." You did as he said, holding your body up with your arms. You looked so cute to him, checking behind yourself to see when he was going to stretch you wide. You shook your hips, whining softly to him.

"Hurry," you whined. "Need you to fill me so bad."

He chuckled darkly, not bothering to grab a condom out of his wallet before he lined himself at your entrance. He rubbed his leaking tip against your clit, making you moan softly. "fuck."

"You're so wet Y/N," he muttered, marveling at the state between your legs.

"All for you." You wiggled your hips trying to create more friction, but Doyoung took the extra step of lining himself with your core. Doyoung pushed himself into you slowly with a low groan. You were almost immediately overtaken by pleasure, eyes rolling back at the feeling of him stretching you out. He thrusted into you slowly, holding your hips with a tight grip on them.

"You feel so good, shit." He kept thrusting in you, your soft moans and whimpers permeating the air around you. You hadn't even realized that you were bouncing back onto him at the same time until he stopped, wrapping a hand around your neck as he whispered in your ear. "Keep fucking yourself on my cock princess. You're doing such a good job, making your boss happy."

"Y-yes Doie, i'll make you happy," you said in a choked moan as he squeezed your neck.

"Good girl," he murmured. He let go of your neck, looking down to watch you desperately move against him. He smacked your ass firmly as you started going faster, making you halt your movements. "Did I tell you to go faster?"

"N-no," you whined softly.

He grabbed your hair, pulling it as he started fucking you slow. Deep slow strokes made you whine loudly, cunt fluttering around him. You needed to cum, you wanted to cum so badly. You need him to fuck you hard and fast, but the painfully slow pace he had going was driving you insane.

"Faster Doyoung. Please," you cried out, but all he did was let out a deep laugh.

"Pretty little thing," he mumbled. Doyoung began thrusting in you hard and fast, making your jaw drop in pleasure as you arched your back to feel him more. "You like having a older man's cock in you?"

"Yes yes, I love it Doie," you whimpered weakly. Suddenly he pulled out of you m, leaving you with the feeling of emptiness, but not for long. He turned you around, manhandling you as he lifted you by your hips, placing you on the desk. Doyoung forced you legs open, pushing himself back into you without warning.

"Fuck," he groaned through gritted teeth. Doyoung watched you, scanning your body as you laid on the desk. He lifted your legs, pushing them to your chest as he fucked you at the same pace as before. He loved the faces and noises you made, couldnt take his eyes off you. The both of you never thought you would have this much chemistry, but everything feels perfect. Doyoung is fucking you like he's been doing it for years already, your body melting into his perfectly.

You reached down, rubbing your clit to reach your high. "Keep touching yourself, just like that baby," he groaned. The grip he has on your legs got tighter as he kept going, feeling himself closer and closer to cumming.

"I'm gonna cum Doyoung," you panted, rubbing you clit harder.

Doyoung's brows furrowed at the sensation of you squeezing around him, moaning softly. "Cum baby, cum for me. Cum all over my cock." His words were jumbled, slurred from all the pleasure he was taking. Doyoung moaned loudly, the feeling of you squeezing and cumming on his cock shooting through his body. Your body tensed beneath his, legs shaking as you whimpered his name over and over while cumming hard. Your lips were suddenly captured with his as he leaned down kissing your messily.

"I'm gonna cum Y/N, shit," he said on your mouth. Doyoung kept thrusting in you, making your eyes roll back form the sensitivity.

"Oh my god," you cried. Doyoung's movements became more erratic as he came closer and closer. Soon enough, doyoung was pulling out of you, cumming on your stomach, some ropes of white shooting to your chest.

Nothing but the sounds of deep breathes filled the air, the smell of sex all over the room. Your eyes were closed, so you didn't see Doyoung looking at you as if he saw an angel. He let go of your legs, wrapping an arm around the small of your back as he weakly lifted you into a seated position.

"That was…"

"Something," he finished with a small laugh. You looked at him, giving him a small smile as you sat trying to catch your breath.

"It's pretty late now I bet," he said, brushing his damp bangs back. Doyoung looked at you, then at your very naked state, covered in his cum. "Fuck, I'm sorry."

You didn't say anything, just looked at him with a tired smile. "Thank you for not cumming inside me at least."

"Why? You don't want my kid," he joked, grabbing tissues off his shelf. Doyoung handed you some tissues, letting you clean your self off as he fixed himself up.

"I'm 24. I'm not ready for kids," you laughed. You paused, looking at him through your lashes as he fastened his belt. "But I am ready for a relationship."

He smiled picking up his shirt from the floor. "Yeah?"

"Mhm," you answered.

"Well…that can be arranged," he said, fingers fumbling with his buttons. You moved his hands, looking at him as you buttoned his shirt, smirk tugging at your lips. "But are you serious about this? You're young, and I don't want you to feel obligated because you work for me."

"I don't feel obligated at all," you said calmly, carefully getting off the desk, your heels clicking with the floor. "I always liked you, and it obvious you liked me too."

He leaned against the floor to ceiling window crossing his arms as he watched you dress. Your small glances were making his heart race, something that hasn't happened since he was a teenager. He walked up to you, grabbing your hips as he kissed you deep, biting your lip softly.

"How do you usually get homw," he asked as he pulled away.

"An Uber."

"I'm I'm taking you home tonight okay," he said, making you nod. "Is that okay with you?"

"Anything you do is okay with me." Doyoung kissed your forehead, smiling to himself.

He never thought of himself as much as a lover, but maybe you'll pull it out of him. And he would love to see you try. All the years of trying to keep personal life and work separate gone to waste, but was it worth it? Hopefully, yes.

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

HOLY F*CK

HOLY F*CK

ALRIGHTY

SO YKNOW THE SAGAU PLOT WHERE THE CREATOR IS ACCUSED AS BEING A IMPOSTER AND THE TRUE IMPOSTER PRETENDS TO BE THE REAL CREATOR AND SO GHE REAL CREATOR AND THE FAKE CREATOR DUEL AND YHE REAL CREATEOR'S BLOOD IS GOLD?

WHAT IF THE FAKE IMPOSTER HAD SILVER BLOOD AND IT WAS LIKE A GREATER LORD (TRUE CREATOR) AND LESSER LORD (FAKE CREATOR) BUT THE POWER GAP IS A BAJOLLION QUADRILLIONTOOTSIEROLL TIMES BIGGER

AND TJE REAL CREATOR CREATED THE FAKE CREATOR/TRUE IMPOSTER TO BE THEIR ASSISTANT, BUT THE FAKE CREATOR/TRUE IMPOSTER STRAYED FROM THAT PATH AND BASICALLY BETRAYED TJE TRUE CREATOR

CAN UOU TSLL I TYPED YHIS FAST!?

I HAVE TO HURRY

I ALREADY HAVE ANOTHER IDEA OMFG WHY IS ALL MY CREATIVITY ACTIVATED AT NIGHT

OHHH THIS IS SO GOOODDDDD. @royalrose2011 HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE THIS IS HELLA GOOD......LEMME WRITE SOMETHING HOLD UP

Headcanons: Pre-Sagau Relationship & Post-Sagau Relationship

Pre-Sagau Relationship

Before Sagau, aka back when Reader is Creator 100% and no one was doubting or trying to kill them, the Reader created the Imposter out of their own power, creating them out of the finest silver, gifted with the powers that shined like the stars, the moon.

That was kind of their dynamic. Sun and Moon. Reader the sun, shining at night, and Imposter the moon, shining at day.

The Reader is the Supreme Ruler, while the Imposter is more of a Commander, as well as the Creator's Trusted Advisor. Anything the Reader ordered, the Imposter would be able to have a say. Once it was ordered out, the Imposter would see it through while the Reader would begin to plan something else.

When the Creator Fell and Disappeared, That's when the Imposter became Bitter. Bitter for the fact that the Creator left and Abandoned all their Work, Bitter for leaving them. They took the Creator's Place and Face, in hopes that with them in this position, The Imposter would lead Teyvat Better than the Creator would ever hope to dream of.

Post-Sagau Relationship

It's pretty rocky, to say the least. With the Reader's memories still sealed and are trying to come back, and with the entire showdown there was for trying to prove who is the real Creator, the Reader and the Imposter are...not exactly on the best of terms.

Reader has PTSD, Imposter has Trust Issues and overall a bad combination—but slowly and surely, both of them do open up little by little.

It honestly might take a couple hundred years for everything to clear itself up and yk—fix itself.

In sense, as Reader gets to know the Imposter better, they slowly get back on track with the path they originally took alongside the Creator.

Safe to say, slow and steady truly did win the race. (Maybe—Depends if your an angst writer or a fluff writer or ur mood in general lol)

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: THIS TOOK MUCH LONGER THAN I THOUGHT IT TAKE SOBBING. DON'T WORRY, I'M STILL ALIVE (Ghost Rebel Not Ghosting, I swear—) BUT ITS A WORK IN PROGRESS.

BOY ARE THERE A LOT MORE REQUESTS THAN I'VE EVER GOTTEN SINCE THE EXISTENCE OF MY BLOG LOL.

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

[reyla-the-black-wolf]

My heart speaks for you (Part 2)

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

Pairing: Eris x f!reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: angsty fluff?, angst, hints of anxiety, anxiety attack, nightmare

Summary: Y/n is the youngest child of the High Lord of the Night Court and lives a slightly different life than the rest of her family. But what happens, when an unexpected visitor enters the stage and decides to completely change her life?

A/N: Hey guys! It took me a bit longer to write this chapter than I had planned to (accidentally deleted a part of the story ups) but finally did it! And I recommend you listen to "Remember that night" by Sara Kays and "The night we met" by Lord Huron.

Anyway, enjoy reading! 😙

Part 1 ⎮Part 2 ⎮Part 3

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

Six days. Six days had passed since the incident in the conference room. Six tough days and not a single glimpse of him. No word, no letter, no message of any kind.

The water of the Sidra washed up on the shore in mesmerising waves, each time stealing a bit more of the glittering sand. Sunlight reflected off the mirrored surface, magically illuminating the facade of the River House. 

The hammock I sat in swayed gently in the afternoon breeze and, thanks to Elain, the sun didn´t bother me too much. My aunt had planted two Illyrian oaks in our garden the year I was born, providing shade now that they had grown from tiny sprouts into strong, sturdy trees. As I became older, I found my favourite reading spot underneath them. They stood a few feet from the River House and were the perfect place to relax and simply be. 

A piece of bark crumbled onto the pages of the book I was holding right now. `Feathers and Fire´ was written in large, ornate letters on the leather-bound cover. Nesta had borrowed me one of her novels to keep me company, as I had spent the last few days mostly by myself. 

I give up! After reading the same paragraph for the third time in a row, I finally slammed the book shut. I had really tried to concentrate on the story in the last hour, but my mind had drifted off more than once. And always back to the same place. 

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

I was in shock. Or so I thought, as I couldn´t think clearly. My mind was racing and my heart was pounding so loudly that all of Velaris must´ve heard it.

Mate. Eris Vanserra was my mate. 

I couldn´t believe it. I mean, he doesn´t even know me?

The beige sofa under my legs felt too soft, as if it wanted to pull me into a hug and never let go. And the ticking clock on the opposite wall made my ears twitch in annoyance, so I decided to get up and pace around the living room, trying to quiet my mind. I was massaging my temples to ground myself a little when a soft touch stopped me in my tracks. Small, gentle fingers starting to trail along my shoulder in a soothing rhythm. 

„Sweetheart, look at me, please.“ My mother´s calm voice made me turn to her. „Everything´s going to be all right.“ She radiated pure love. „Whatever happens next, I want you to know you´re not alone. I´m here for you, okay, honey?“ It helped slow down my racing heart a little, but not enough. I sincerely hoped my father and his brothers hadn´t beaten Eris to death just out of anger. 

Just as I thought of them, three men winnowed into the living room. With long strides, my father rushed towards me, some of his darkness still clinging onto him, and cupped my face with both hands. „Darling, are you all right? Are you hurt? Do you need anything?“ He asked worriedly as he inspected me for any injuries, whatever he was looking for. 

I withdrew from his grasp, spun around once to show him I was fine, and put on my most reassuring smile to calm his worries, making his tensed muscles relax. „I´m so sorry. I never wanted you to see this.“ Regret seeped into his voice. „But…“ He paused, visibly struggling to find his next words. „Did the bond snap for you too?“ The question caught me entirely off guard, as I thought he was angry with me, trying to argue. I could almost feel my family holding their breath, dreading my answer. Silky hair fell around my face, casting tender shadows on my features as I shook my head. A quick glance at my parents and I knew they were having a silent conversation. Sweat formed on my palms as I unconsciously clenched my hand into a fist. With each passing second, an unpleasant feeling returned to my stomach, making me want to throw up.

It spread even further when my father turned his attention back to me, and my heart sank as I noticed the sudden change in his expression. A completely blank canvas. The mask of a High Lord. Others probably wouldn´t see through his masquerade of deceit. But I could. I did. I had studied his features over the years, every time he put it on. How his jaw tightened just an inch, noticeable only to the trained eye. How his eyes shimmered in a more vibrant shade of violet. I´d seen him in his role so many times that I´d learned to watch out for him. The real him. Not the High Lord, but my father. He kept his face sealed, but I could see what he hid behind that mask. Fury over Eris. His worry. But the strongest emotion was his love for me. 

„I want you to stay away from him. Or even talk to him.“ Someone had just knocked all the air out of my lungs and punched me in the guts. I hadn´t been braced for what was to come. My pulse skipped a beat and the blood in my veins began to boil. He can´t do this! Voices shouted in my head and a lump formed in the back of my throat. But why? I didn´t even know Eris, even though he was my mate. I shouldn´t be so disappointed. He is practically a stranger. 

At a loss for words, I stared at my parents. „We don´t want to make decisions about your life, but Eris is a... complicated man.“ my mother interjected. You mean dangerous. 

„Wait, Eris is your mate?“ I flinched and turned around, only to spot my brother hidden in the darkness with a shit-eating grin on his face. „Finally something interesting is happening.“ he chuckled, earning him a slap on the neck from Cass. „Hey!“ he cried out as my father shot him a warning glare before continuing his lecture. „Darling, listen. We only want to protect you and make sure you don´t get hurt. And Eris is not good company. He has proven that several times in the past. So please believe us when we tell you to stay away from him. We have our reasons.“ And what are they? A knot tightened in my stomach when I heard Azriel whispering from behind: „Especially after what he did to Mor.“

But he is my mate! Even if we don´t know each other well, don´t I have the right to figure out what´s happening between us? My mind screamed at me. Say something! Anything! You know you can! I forced my thoughts to shut down. We would not have this conversation now. Fight back! But I didn´t. I understood that my parents were trying to protect me. They were angry, no doubt, but with the love in their eyes, I couldn´t argue against them. 

So I only looked up and nodded, giving them a coy smile, even though it felt wrong. So terribly wrong. 

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

This moment had been stuck in my head for the past few days. Although I´d agreed not to approach Eris, somehow I still hoped he would talk to me. Maybe to explain when and how the bond had snapped for him. 

Starlight? Az is waiting for you in the training ring.

Oh, right. I looked at the sun, which was already sinking deeper into the sky. Uncle Az had asked me yesterday if I wanted to train with him. We usually met at the same time every week to train, but over the last few days he had become more careful around me, giving me more space.

I quickly stowed the book away, not wanting Nesta to get upset if something happened to her beloved book. Changing into my fighting gear, I winnowed to meet Azriel. 

„Faster!“ Azriel shouted, lunging forward, but not fast enough. I sidestepped his punch to the right, and in the brief moment his defence was down, I landed three swift blows to his ribs. He groaned in pain and tried to sweep me off my feet in one smooth motion. Just as I was about to dive again, my back hit the sandy ground, Truthteller at my throat. A sweaty Azriel lay on top of me. 

He pulled me up, brushing the sand from my clothes. „That wasn´t too bad, but you´re less focused today.“ A questioning look crossed his face for a second as he looked down at me, then it returned to his usual straight expression.

I opened my mouth slightly as if to reply, but shrugged instead and walked towards the edge of the training ground, breathing heavily. Az only threw a knowing look in my direction. He knows. He knows how I feel. 

We had been training for about two hours and I didn´t know how my muscles were still able to keep me standing, but anyway, I was grateful for them when I winnowed us back to the River House for dinner. 

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

After a quick shower, I now sat opposite to my brother at the wooden table eating dinner and it was truly a symphony for the senses. Wine glasses clinking. Knives scraping against plates. The aromatic scent of grilled steak and vegetables wafting through the room as my family engaged in a huge debate about who had the biggest wingspan. All I could do was smile at the silliness of it all and feel it seep into my soul. 

My father stroked my back lazily beside me, probably to keep calm, as Nyx started throwing peas across the table at Cassian, who dodged them. It really was ridiculous. „Seriously! A little decency, please!“ Amren hissed at this `display of strength´. Mor chuckled, „They´re Illyrians. Do you really think their egos would just ignore it if someone with bigger wings came along?“ My mother nearly choked on her wine at this comment, earning an amused look from her husband. „Can we all just calm down a little before the whole dining room is decorated with pieces of food?“ A quick, stern glance around the table from the High Lord and everyone resumed eating, interrupted now and then by a few giggles.

Ten minutes had passed, and the others had just finished chatting about upcoming events in Velaris, when Amren apparently decided to break the comfortable silence. „So y/n. Has anything been happening with the Autumn Heir lately?“ The wicked smirk on her face made her look like a cat that had caught a mouse to play with. All of a sudden, the room fell silent and everyone stopped eating. I felt my father stiffen beside me, his muscles tense. „Amren.“ Azriel warned, a low growl escaping his throat. „What? Just a sincere question.“ Not impressed by his threatening face. Not in the slightest.

Of course, the incident with Eris had spread around the River House throughout the last few days, fuelling rumours, but the others hadn´t said anything to me yet. I should have guessed that it was only a matter of time until the tension would blow up.

I think I might throw up. I certainly wasn´t in the mood to talk about it with my family. Not today. My blood froze as I gathered the strength to look into Amren´s cold, steely eyes, which were fixed directly on me. She didn´t even flinch when my father shot her a terrifying glare that would send shivers down your spine. 

Words began to flow into my mind, begging to be heard and a familiar feeling crept through my entire body, making my nerves go blank. It felt like I couldn´t breathe. 

„Are you all right, dear? You look a bit pale.“ she said, making me feel even more nauseous. „Amren, don´t.“ Everyone had stopped breathing by now. „You don´t have to answer her question, darling.“ My father´s hand darted out to graze my fingers, but I pulled back at the sensation. „You are his mate y/n, aren´t you? Must be desperate to know why.“ „Enough!“ Pure darkness collected in the corners of the dining room, ready to consume everything. I´d never seen my father so pissed off. „Why would you say such a thing?“ Mor uttered. „Exactly! She´s my sister, I´m the only one allowed to make fun of her!“, Nyx joined in. „I´m in the mood for some trouble.“ she responded honestly, taking a sip from her wine glass, completely untroubled. 

Everyone began to talk over each other, making it difficult to distinguish the individual voices. Tears welled up in my eyes as I covered my ears. The noise was becoming too much to bear. I sniffled, holding back a cry as I stood up and took a few steps away from the table. My chair scraped along the floor, causing everyone to turn around to me and all the shouting stopped. The tears began to trickle down my cheeks as my mother noticed them first, „Sweetheart, we´re so sorry.“ She stood up too. „We didn't mean to make you cry.“ Mor tried to reassure me, guilt clouding her voice. Everything felt too overwhelming. Leave. Walk away. Get out of this situation. 

„Starlight, come here. It´ll be fine.“ He took a few steps in my direction, but I quickly held my hand up in front of him to keep a distance between me and my father. 

„Y/n. Darling, we´re…“ But he stopped when I shook my head and scowled at him. Stared at all of them, anger written on my face, before I winnowed to my room. Leaving them all guilty and silent. 

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

With my back against the door, I sank to the floor, tears streaming down my face. It´s my life! I get to decide how I deal with Eris! Why do they keep talking about it like it isn´t my decision? Like it´s not my life? 

My nails scraped the floor, attempting to hold on to something, anything, as I spiralled down a path I didn´t want to go. A guttural sound escaped my lips as my hand clenched into a fist and slammed into the expensive wood panels beneath me. Pain shot through my knuckles, making me want to scream. Anger. Fear. Emptiness. These emotions ran through my mind as my body shook with sobs. Why can´t I just talk? I want to, but I can´t... I don´t know... the words just won´t come out when I try. It made me even angrier when I thought about it. Do I not feel safe enough around my own family to talk to them? Or is there something wrong with me? 

A knot formed in my stomach. I had never had a big problem with myself before. Not with my body, nor with my inability to speak to others. But now I wished, longed to talk to someone. Just someone who understood me. Someone who...

A certain scent wafted through the room making me pay attention. Was that smoke? I sat up straighter to observe my own bedroom. Books were scattered across the floor and the door to the neighbouring bathroom was open. My bed was made, covered in indigo silk sheets that shimmered slightly in the moonlight streaming in through the closed windows. A few plants hung from the frescoed ceiling. Nothing more.

My eyes were no longer watery and my heartbeat had stabilised. But I could still smell that there was... something. Parchment.

I looked over at my desk, which was littered with various rolls of parchment, papers and pencils of all kinds. But right in the middle. Something had changed. 

Slowly, on shaky legs, I got up and walked over to my desk. A crimson envelope lay there, and next to it a shiny golden feather with light brown spots. I couldn´t remember putting anything like that here. It smelled of an open fire, fresh rain and a hint of vanilla. 

Deep down I knew who must have sent it. I opened the letter with trembling hands.

 ・✧✵✧・✧✵✧・

Hello Princess,

Do you remember the night we met? To be honest, I can´t forget you. Standing on the balcony in your stunning gown, watching the stars fall upon you, even though they couldn´t diminish your appearance. At first I wasn´t sure how to approach you, but I did it anyway.

And it turned out to be one of the most wonderful nights I have ever had, and I wanted to thank you for it.

I could almost hear him chuckling to himself as a warmth filled my heart.

As you probably know by now, I'm your mate, but I don´t want you to feel obligated to anything that concerns me. It is your decision whether or not you wish to meet with me. ( Though I wouldn´t mind, of course) 

A blush spread across my tear-stained cheeks and I instinctively smiled. He had thought of me. He really had. My heart melted like snow in early spring. Something about him made me feel complete and understood. 

But if that´s the case, winnow to the border of Autumn in two days. I´ll be waiting for you under a birch tree when the sun sets. You can´t miss it. Sleep well, Princess! 

His letter also contained a small note. 

(Oh, the feather and the paper you write on will appear on my desk as soon as you write back).

・✧✵✧・✧✵✧・

I was speechless. Not just because he had thought of me or wanted to meet me. No. But because he would let me decide for myself. He wouldn´t force me to accept the bond, even if it hadn´t snapped for me yet. 

Not wanting to think clearly at the moment, I did the only thing that seemed right. I broke the agreement with my parents. 

I pulled out the chair, sat down, picked up the quill and wrote back. 

Half an hour later, I was lying in my bed, surrounded by fluffy pillows and a gentle night breeze caressing my form. A few candles were lit to provide some sort of night light. 

Just as I was falling asleep, footsteps came from the hallway and my bedroom door creaked as it slowly opened. I quickly closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep, not wanting to talk to whoever it was. „Darling, are you still awake?“ My father´s voice echoed through the room as he peeked out from behind the door. 

Just breathe. He won´t recognise it.

And he didn´t. He only walked over to my bed and tucked a few loose strands of hair behind my ear, while the last thing I heard was him whispering: „I´m deeply sorry, Starlight.“ before he silently walked out of my room, leaving me alone. 

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not the slightest flicker of light. Total darkness consumed everything around me. No light, nor sun, nor any kind of something... soft. Something to keep me warm as the cold crept up my body, like a hidden shadow from the depths of darkness. 

I gasped for some air to reach my lungs, but all I could inhale was dust. Air! I need air! My lungs began to burn from the lack of oxygen and a tingling sensation shot through my entire being.

I felt like a flame being smothered as a deep, dark wave crashed over me, trying to drown me, as if I were nothing. As if I didn´t matter. 

The darkness drew closer with each passing second. Minute? Hour? Time didn´t matter in this place of emptiness. A place without walls or windows or even solid ground. The only things that trapped me were my own thoughts and the giant beast I couldn´t see, but felt. It swallowed everything around it as its claws raked along my skin, my soul, leaving scratches all over me.

I screamed, but all that came out of my mouth was... nothing. Every sound, no matter how small, was absorbed by the emptiness of this place. 

My body was drenched in sweat and my voice must have been hoarse by now from screaming my heart out for I don´t know how long. Slowly my body was losing consciousness and I was drifting further and further into the devouring void as I frantically tried to breathe. Please! I need to breathe! My heart stuttered for a moment. Help... help me! Somebody! Please, I... Hot tears streamed down my face and my eyes slowly closed as I was suffocated and drowned by the beast that guarded this place. My body went limp, tired from fighting. 

A gentle brush of soft fur against my back was the last thing I felt as I drifted into nothingness. 

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

I jolted out of my sleep, my heart racing and the sheets beneath me damp with sweat. You´re awake! Everything is fine! I placed my hand over my chest, feeling my pulse slowly steady as I realised it was all just a nightmare. The silver curtains swayed slightly at the open windows and the moon shone so brightly I had to blink my eyes. `Shh, it´s all right, Little one. I´m here´ it yearned to say. My breathing had normalised and I ran a hand through my sticky hair. It was just a dream. I lay back and tried to sleep again, but I knew it was going to be a long night. 

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

@tele86 @circe143 @impossibelle @st4r-girl-official @cherry-cin

[dreamwritesimagines]

Garden of Secrets [20] - Heliotrope

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Thanks so much to @theskytraveler​ for helping me with the chapter!

Summary: Having too many drinks can lead to honesty.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of sex, mentions of violence, slow burn.

Word Count: 4300

Series Masterlist

When you went to bed that night, right before falling asleep you decided that this whole feelings nonsense was probably like some sort of fever; you would sleep it off and it would simply go away.

Except that it didn’t.

So the next morning you just figured it would probably take a couple of days to go away, just like any flu. It surely was as annoying as the flu, but you were sure you were going to be able to think straight in a couple of days.

Any day now.

So you had thrown herself into any kind of distraction you could find, but seeing that you no longer had a garden you could work on, it wasn’t as easy. You were nearly restless, your hands itching for the garden but you managed to keep it under control, only helping Bess and your aunt with their plants instead of working on your own plants.

Desiring your husband whom you hadn’t consummated your marriage with was not something you could even get any advice on. The whole ton and everyone close to you thought you were deeply in love and thus, you liked spending time in bed together. You and Benedict were so good at pretending to be in love so it wasn’t as if you could just tell Josie without raising any questions.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn’t even noticed Benedict entering the library. You were seated on the comfortable sofa by the huge window, resting the book on your legs with a warm cup of herbal tea on the coffee table by your side, the sunlight falling over you, making you feel all warm. Your head shot up when Benedict cleared his throat and your heartbeat paced up as soon as your eyes fell on his handsome figure leaning sideways to one of the bookshelves.

“I was wondering where you were,” he said and you smiled at him, then tucked your legs underneath you to make room for him on the other side of the sofa.

“Charlotte is busy with her siblings and Josie had things to do so I left there early,” you said. “You were painting when I got back, so I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“You never disturb me,” he said and motioned at the sofa. “May I?”

“Absolutely.”

He came to sit beside you, his pleasant scent tickling your nostrils and you ran your fingertip over the page of the book absentmindedly, looking at him.

“Did you finish the painting or take a break?”

“I took a break so that I could really absorb myself in self-doubt instead of trying to do that and paint at the same time,” he pointed out, making you let out a laugh.

“Ouch. One of those days?”

“Mm hm.”

“Do you want me to talk badly of your artistic idols? Because I can, very easily.”

He chuckled. “I appreciate it,” he said and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, I guess you know, with the party tonight…”

You frowned for a moment before snapping your fingers.

“Right, the party tonight!” you said. “I forgot about that.”

“Do you still want to go?”

“Of course,” you said. “I want to see that part of the city at night but do you want to go?”

Benedict nodded. “Yeah, absolutely.”

“We can just go some other time if you want?”

“No no,” he said. “It’s not that. It’s just— you know, everyone keeps asking me why I’m applying for the academy next year instead of this year.”

You bit inside your cheek. “But you don’t want to apply this year.”

“I don’t know if I should,” he said. “I feel like I need more practice.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “You don’t owe anyone any explanation. It’s just not in your plans this year.”

“Well yes but Henry and all his friends are convinced that it makes no sense I wait for the next season when I can easily be accepted this season as well.”

You hummed. “Pin it on me.”

“Hm?”

“Tell them I’m—I’m the reason why you’re not applying this year,” you waved a hand in the air. “Marriage responsibilities, distraction, I take up all your time when you should be working on your art, your pick. Isn’t that what artists and writers do? Have bad spouses?”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“That’s what I read,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “No seriously, we’re married now so we can use each other as an excuse for everything.”

He pulled his brows together. “What did you use me as an excuse for?”

“The opportunity hasn’t risen yet but I’m sure it will eventually,” you pointed out. “And when it does, I will not hesitate.”

Benedict chuckled and heaved a sigh, leaning his head back to close his eyes.

“I could say I’m too taken by newlywed bliss to pay attention to my art actually,” he murmured, and the simple term made your heart skip a beat, your dream flashing before your eyes and you cleared your throat.

“There you go.”

He opened an eye to look at you. “So I’ve been thinking.”

“About?”

“You’re free to say no if you don’t want to, but after the season is over, we could go on a trip if you’d like.”

“I thought we were going to your home in the countryside after the season was over, until the next one.”

“Our home and yes,” he pointed at you, making you repress a smile. “But this was supposed to be our honeymoon right? And we didn’t even go anywhere, so let’s do that after the season. A belated honeymoon trip.”

Your heart beat sped up. “Benedict…”

“I use the term honeymoon loosely,” he added in a haste. “I don’t expect anything of course.”

But you did.

You expected something, and you wanted it to be soon.

“Just a friendly trip,” he said and you licked your lips.

“Where?”

“Where do you want?”

You let out a laugh. “I’ve only seen two cities in my life, here and where I was born. I don’t think I can give travel suggestions.”

“There must be somewhere you want to see.”

“It was never much of a possibility for me so I didn’t really think about it,” you confessed and lifted your head. “Wait, Rome has a bunch of art right?”

“That’s one way to put it, yes.”

“Can we go to Rome?”

“Because there’s a bunch of art?” he asked with a smile and you let out a noise of agreement.

“That and other things,” you said. “It could be fun.”

Benedict’s smile widened and he nodded his head.

“As my lady wishes.”

“Good,” you said, mirroring his smile. “Rome it is.”

                                           *

As far as you could tell, tonight was going to be rather chaotic.

Apparently one of Benedict’s friends had rented a whole house just for this party -an inn, you were told- and he had also closed down the entire street for it and moved the party there. Benedict had asked you to stay close to him as soon as the carriage stopped and considering you had never been on this side of the town, you had agreed. He helped you out of the carriage, and you fixed the silky skirts of your dress before turning your head to look at the crowd, your mouth opening slightly. Everyone seemed to be having so much fun, completely drunk already, the music coming from the house reaching outside.

“Wow.”

“Mm hm.”

“What about the officers?” you asked. “I mean this is something else right? The street?”

“Well, this part of the town is barely quiet at night,” Benedict said. “And if they’re paid off well, which I’m guessing they were…”

You let out a whistle and Benedict grinned, obviously pleased with himself.

“Do you mind if I smoke?” he asked and you waved a hand in the air.

“Go ahead.”

He put a cigarette between his lips and lit it, the memory flashing through your head like a lightning, making your heart beat faster. You shifted your weight and averted your eyes, then stood on your tiptoes to see through the crowd. Some of the guests had gathered up in the middle of the cheering crowd to play a game, a tugging war if you weren’t mistaken, and a chuckle escaped from you as one group pulled the other one hard, making them fall down to the ground, all of them still laughing and yelling.

“I was never good at that game,” you muttered to Benedict and he raised his brows.

“You played it?”

“I grew up in the countryside, Benedict,” you reminded him, still grinning. “I certainly didn’t spend my time learning how to play the piano and dance.”

“I heard Daphne say you can play the piano,” he teased you, exhaling the smoke upwards so that you wouldn’t breathe it in. “And we do have a music room—”

“Do not dare,” you pointed at him, making him chuckle.

“I would be the only one to hear it.”

“Not a chance,” you said, a shiver running through you as the cold wind blew over your skin. Benedict noticed it immediately, shrugging off his jacket to drop it over your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you said, your cheeks burning and he smiled at you.

“Of course,” he said. “Want to go inside? It’s probably warmer there.”

You nodded. “Yeah. I also want that drink from the last time.”

A playful glimmer started playing in his blue eyes and he flicked at the cigarette lightly with his thumb so that the ash would fall.

“Lovesick honeymoon couple?”

“Lovesick honeymoon couple,” you said with a giggle and he put the cigarette between his lips, then threw his arm over your shoulder to pull you closer. You inhaled his pleasant scent as discreetly as you could, feeling like your whole face was on fire and you reached out to entwine your fingers with his, then you both started walking to the building, a couple of people greeting you by the door.

The music was even louder inside but it did nothing to drown out the chatter and laughter completely. A footman came to take Benedict’s jacket off of you and Benedict grabbed two glasses from the tray another footman was carrying, and handed one to you.

“There you go,” he said and you clinked it with his, then took a big sip, letting the liquid burn down your throat.

“Are you nervous about tomorrow’s dinner?” you asked and he chuckled.

“Should I be?”

“Nah, I mean…” you trailed off. “Josie does have her moments from time to time and she will certainly question you, but you should be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah because Bess likes you. Well, she likes everyone but Josie will go easy on you if Bess likes you.”

He pulled his brows together. “They’re that close?”

You tried to keep a straight face. “Uh huh. Very close.”

“I was beginning to think you two wouldn’t show up,” Sir Granville’s voice reached you and you looked over your shoulder to see him with a beautiful woman by his side.

“Sir Granville.”

He waved a hand in the air. “None of that, call me Henry,” he said. “This is Lucy, my wife. Lucy, this is Y/N, the infamous Venus Flytrap who captured our artist.”

You let out a laugh. “Quite the introduction.”

“I’m honored,” Lucy said, “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck, shifting his weight for some reason.

“How’s the new painting going?” Henry asked Benedict who shrugged.

“There’s something missing, I can’t figure out what yet.”

Henry shook his head slightly. “Y/N, will you please tell this husband of yours that waiting for the next year to apply to Academy is nonsense?”

“Well that would be quite hypocritical of me,” you said airily before Benedict could open his mouth to argue. “Considering how hard I tried to convince him otherwise.”

Benedict’s eyes turned to you, a small smile curling his lips and Henry pulled his brows together.

“Why?”

You tipped your glass in Benedict’s direction slightly. “You didn’t tell them?”

“Tell us what?”

“Well he had mentioned the academy plan before we got engaged but when he proposed, I told him I would only marry him if he promised to spend some time with me on the first year of our marriage,” you said. “Granted I was bluffing, I was going to say yes anyway but it worked.”

Lucy let out a laugh. “Oh my goodness.”

“What, as if the academy wouldn’t take up all your time?” you asked Benedict who nodded fervently. “See? And this is my first season! I wish to enjoy it, the art world can wait until the next season.”

Henry chuckled. “Well I suppose love rules all of us.”

“Let them be,” Lucy said. “She has a point. I sometimes don’t see you for days when you are working on a piece, and they’re still on their honeymoon.”

“Well my only consolation is that artists in love give masterpieces,” Henry said dramatically and Benedict wrapped an arm around your waist to squeeze it, as if saying thank you, then nuzzled at your hair, making your heart skip a beat.

“You’re not the only one who wants to enjoy this season darling,” he said, making your eyes snap up at his and you giggled, resting a hand on his chest as you turned to Henry.

“So no, I’m not going to convince him otherwise,” you said with a smile and he held up his hands.

“I know a lost battle when I see one,” he said. “Fine. But make no mistake Ben, I will drag you out of your marriage bed next season if you don’t apply.”

“I will,” Benedict said with a chuckle as you downed your drink. “I happen to want to get into the Academy, remember?”

“Y/N, I’m just going to grab you before you become a part of this argument,” Lucy said and tugged you by the hand. “Let’s get drinks, you and I.”

Benedict looked between you. “Lucy…”

“I’m not going to steal her, don’t worry,” Lucy joked and linked her arm with yours, and you two walked away from them to the other side of the room where the drinks were being served.

“Have you ever been here before?” you asked Lucy, “This part of the town?”

“More than I could count,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I like parties, and this part of the town is quite scandalous, which means no one will bat an eye no matter what anyone does here or on the street.”

“Is that why the host shut down the whole street?”

Lucy shrugged slightly. “You’ll see once people get drunk enough,” she said and took a glass from the footman, then handed it to you. “You included.”

“Oh I’m not going to drink that much,” you said with a laugh and she tilted her head.

“This is a party,” she reminded you. “The whole point of being here is getting drunk and having fun.”

“I know, I know,” you said. “I’m just not good at letting go of control.”

“Aren’t you on your honeymoon? I’d have thought you were used to letting go of control by now.”

You choked on the drink you were sipping on and Lucy let out a laugh.

“Easy there.”

“Uh…” you cleared your throat. “Yeah but it’s—you know, that’s different.”

She shot you a mischievous look. “They expect women to be the paragon of propriety but as soon as you get married, you’re supposed to turn into an insatiable vixen behind closed doors with the snap of a finger,” she said. “Not to worry. It takes a bit of time even with the one you love, or so I’ve been told.”

“So you’ve been told?” you repeated and she winked at you.

“I was never that good at following rules, before or after marriage.”

You repressed a laugh. “You and I will get along well I think.”

“I’d hope so,” she said and her eyes stopped on someone over your shoulder, making you turn your head but as soon as you did, your heart dropped to your stomach.

Apparently Henry was pulled away by another friend of his because he was talking to another gentleman, and Benedict seemed to be in a deep conversation with a really pretty lady. The bitter taste burned your throat, making you down your drink in hopes of getting rid of it as the lady let out a laugh at something Benedict said, making him chuckle as well. She looked up at him through her lashes, admiration etched in her beautiful features and your jaw clenched as you narrowed your eyes.

Alright, you had to calm down.

There was no reason for you to feel bad. This wasn’t even a real marriage.

“He is quite popular but don’t let that make you jealous.” Lucy said and you turned to her, then let out a scoff.

“I’m not the type to get jealous,” you said, grabbing another drink from the tray before taking a big sip, shaking your head. “I’m not. I’m really not.”

“Say it one more time and I’ll believe you.”

“I’m—” you stopped yourself and took another sip, then stole a look at Benedict before forcing yourself to turn your glances to Lucy. “Uh, what’s that pretty lady’s name?”

“Lady Margery Sutton,” Lucy said. “She was widowed last year when her husband got lost in a ship accident after only three years of marriage.”

“Oh,” you said. “Sounds tragic.”

Lucy shrugged her shoulders. “I doubt she ever liked him much, certainly didn’t mourn him,” she said. “She had so many suitors but she picked Lord Sutton because he had an enormous wealth.”

“Really?”

“Mm hm,” Lucy said. “Even now she has quite a number of suitors. Breaks hearts here and there.”

“Does she now?”

“And she is a lover of art, or at least that’s what Henry claims.”

You bit down on your tongue, raising your brows. “How interesting.”

That sounded exactly like your plan before getting married, and it looked like Lady Sutton was enjoying widowhood well. If it were the start of the season, you would have actually admired her luck but now…

Now you could hardly focus on the conversation from an unreasonable anger burning through you.

“Are you alright?”

You downed your drink, then grabbed another glass again, clearing your throat.

“Yes of course,” you said. “Why would I not be alright?”

“Because you said you didn’t want to get drunk but you are drinking quite fast,” Lucy pointed out. “If this is about their conversation, I wouldn’t be worried. Benedict is completely in love with you, any idiot could see that.”

No, Benedict and you were just pretending and you had no idea why the mere presence of this Lady Sutton was enough to make you want to go over there and pull him into a kiss. You dug your fingernails into your palms and managed to give Lucy a small smile, then shrugged your shoulders.

“I’m not worried,” you said calmly, and Lucy grinned.

“Good,” she said and linked her arm with yours. “Now come with me, I have so many people to introduce you to.”

                                                 *

Alcohol had a way of relaxing you and making you all giggly even though you had been quite tense at the beginning of the night. The sunrise was merely an hour away when you decided to leave the party and unlike you, Benedict had made sure to stay sober throughout the night so that he could take you home safe and sound.

Now to think of it, he had done the same during the last party as well.

Your stomach was doing flips, no doubt the consequence of drinking too much, and you took a deep breath as the carriage stopped in front of your house, by the stone road. Benedict helped you out of the carriage and you looked around, then gasped.

“Benedict, the garden!”

He pulled his brows together. “Hm?”

“Look at the garden! Look how pretty!”

“That’s our garden dearest,” he said with a chuckle. “You see it every day.”

“No but it’s so pretty!” you said and darted to get to the garden, Benedict catching up with you quite easily to press a hand over your waist to stabilize you when you stumbled.

“Easy,” he said, smiling. “Let’s not run around while you’re drunk, hm?”

“I had like…” you tried to count in your head, narrowing your eyes. “Only a couple glasses.”

“I counted eight.”

“You counted wrong,” you said with your nose up in the air and he nodded, biting back a smile.

“Mm hm, of course.”

You looked up at him, admiring how handsome he was under the moonlight before that warmth spread through your lower stomach and you exhaled through your nose, clenching your teeth.

“Unbelievable.”

He frowned. “Hm?”

You motioned at him. “You must do something about this.”

“About what?”

“Your face!” you exclaimed. “And the—the rest of you! Do something!”

“Y/N, what—?”

“Ugh!” you stomped on your foot and wiggled out of his grip to walk away from him to get closer to one of the flower beds and sat down on the ground, your skirts fanning around you. Benedict approached you, then sat beside you.

“Why exactly are you angry at me all of a sudden?”

You pouted your lips, shrugging your shoulders.

“Why do you look so handsome all the time?” the question came out of your lips as an accusation. “What—what’s the need for that?”

He stared at you as if he wasn’t sure how to answer that.

“Uh...?”

“There’s absolutely no need for that,” you cut him off before he could say anything else and he pursed his lips together, trying to keep a straight face.

“Right. Yeah, you’re right.”

“So, you know,” you motioned at him. “Make it stop, alright?”

“I’ll try?”

“Good,” you said. “Much obliged.”

He nodded slowly, resting his fist over his mouth to hide a smile and you turned to look at the flower bed, then grabbed at his arm.

“Do you know what these are?”

“Not at all,” his voice was soft. “What are they?”

“Chrysanthemums!” you said. “They need to be given enough time and space to bloom and there are so many requirements, like you cannot keep them in too hot or too cold climates, but especially too cold. They die otherwise.”

“Really?”

“Mm hm,” you said. “And you can also eat them—well, make tea with them. It’s quite lovely, good for headaches and such.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“I did,” you said, shooting him a proud smile and reached out to touch one of the flowers. “I miss it a lot.”

“Miss what?”

“Gardening,” you murmured, “It’s quite difficult not to. I didn’t even step a foot in the greenhouse ever since I moved here.”

“Why don’t you…?” he trailed off and stole a look at the flowers before turning to you. “Why don’t you do it then?”

“Because I will start to like it.”

“Good?”

“No it’s not,” you shook your head. “Because then it would be sad when you decided to take it away from me.”

He blinked a couple of times. ��What?”

You reached out to pull at a small yellow leaf, hooking your fingernail between the leaf and the stem until you nipped it and withdrew your hand to look down at it.

“Y/N I would…I would never,” he said, making you look up from the leaf.

“Hm?”

“I would never take anything away from you,” he rasped out, his eyes locked in yours and you bit inside your cheek, ripping a piece of grass off the ground.

“Maybe not at this second,” you murmured, wrapping the piece of grass around your pointer finger and he shook his head.

“Not ever. I just—” he paused for a moment. “I just want you to be happy. Is that so hard to believe?”

You shrugged your shoulders, still playing with the grass.

“Um…” you trailed off. “Sometimes.”

“Why?”

You shrugged again.

“I don’t know,” you admitted and then raised your glances to look up at him. “But if it makes you feel any better, I didn’t use to believe it at all. But it’s sometimes now.”

A gentle smile curled his lips. “Is that a good sign?”

“It’s a sign I think,” you muttered as you laid on your back to fix your gaze on the glimmering stars. “I don’t know if it’s good or bad yet.”

Benedict’s smile widened and he nodded.

“I’ll take it,” he said, still keeping his eyes on you while you pointed at the sky, closing an eye so that you could see better through the blurriness which was yet another result of you having drunk too much.

“Benedict?”

“Yes my love?”

You were way too distracted to even notice the term of endearment slipping out even if you two were alone now.

“Look, it’s Andromeda!” you said, still pointing at the sky and he looked up, then turned to you.

“You remember that?”

You pulled your brows together, following the stars with your finger.

“I always pay attention to the things you say,” you admitted, dropping your hand to hide your yawn. “Even when you don’t think I do.”

A soft light appeared in his gaze and you heaved a sigh, closing your eyes.

“I’ll just sleep for five minutes here and then we can go back inside,” you murmured, your voice already drowsy and you heard Benedict standing up, then felt yourself being lifted up into his arms.

Even if you wanted to say you could walk, you were too sleepy and his arms were way too comfortable so you buried your face into his hard chest, enjoying his pleasant scent while he carried you inside, a soft sigh leaving your lips.

Then, sleep pulled you into its cozy warmth.

Chapter 21

[wosemi-sama]

hellooo ^^ i saw ur requests were open...

could you write a little silly thing with the obey me brothers and a child!mc who swears up and down that they'll marry him? typical funny "child doesnt understand the full meaning of marriage they just think its the ultimate form of love" trope.

ermmm sure ‼️‼️‼️ i gotchu anon. i think child mc is very silly™️

lucifer

Lucifer worked on his paperwork at his desk, as you talked his ear off with all about your day, sitting on one of the chairs of his secret study. As usual, he paid no mind to you minus the usual nod or hum, his attempt at making you feel acknowledged.

That was, until, you somehow brought up the subject of your future wedding. He looked up at you, his attention no longer directed at his papers.

"Excuse me..?" Lucifer's eyes widened as they always do when he's surprised. He was in complete shock.

"Yeah! Our wedding. So we can spend the whole day together!" You seemed to be delighted, already planning your father-child day in your head.

"Dear, if you wanted to spend the day together, you could just ask." He stopped writing and put his pen down.

"Really? But you're always so busy!" You frowned, Lucifer frowned with you at your response.

"Do I really seem busy?" You nodded, confused as you thought he already knew how little he's spent time with you lately.

Lucifer sighed. "I'll see if I can clear my schedule and I'll spend all tomorrow with you. How does that sound?"

You hummed in agreement, already ecstatic for tomorrow.

mammon

To celebrate his recent win at the casino yesterday night (unbeknownst to you), he took you to eat at the fanciest restaurant in the Devildom he knew.

He told you to get dressed in your fanciest clothes and to meet him at HoL's front entrance, covering your eyes as the two of you drew nearer to the restaurant.

Later, you were both sat down at a table near the entrance, eating your meals.

"This is so good! I can't wait until our wedding!" You exclaimed with a mouth full of food.

Mammon's grip on his fork loosened. He dropped it on his plate. "Our huh. Our wha...? Repeat that?" Mammon was stunned.

"Our wedding!"

"Do... do ya know what a wedding is?" Mammon asked you, serious for once.

"Well... no, but-!" Mammon interrupted you. "Aha! Knew it! Don't go sayin' things like that, ya hear?"

You sighed. "Okay...."

leviathan

Huh.

Huh?

HUH?!

"W-what did you just say?!" He put down his controller and turned to you, forgetting all about the Devil Kart game he was playing with you.

"Yeah, when we get married-"

Levi cut you off. "Nooope! Not happening."

"What? Why not!!" You seemed genuinely curious, so he answered. "People get married when they love each other."

"Huh. But I love you!" You seemed very confident with your response.

Levi was stumped, unsure of how to explain it differently.

"Y-you know what, nevermind." He decided that you'd understand what marriage is and how it works when you're older. Probably. Hopefully.

satan

You sat there patiently, listening to the bedtime story Satan was reading to you. It was a story from the human world, one you've heard a dozen times, yet you don't get tired of stories as long as Satan's reading them to you.

Everything was going normally until Satan got to the end of the book, the part where the prince marries the princess. "Satan, I'm gonna marry you one day!" You sat up from your comfy spot on your bed.

"I'm sorry, you're going to what?" Satan was speechless, unsure of what to do or say. Does he keep reading? Does he explain to you what you just said?

"Well, it says the princess and the prince love each other." You pointed to the page picturing the princess and prince's wedding. Satan nodded and you continued. "When you get married, it's because you love each other, right?"

"Well, not familiarly. You get married to someone you're romantically attached to." Satan explained.

"Oh. Okay!" You had no idea what either of those words meant, but you laid back down anyway, ready for Satan to continue reading.

Satan looked at the clock on your nightstand. "It's getting past your bedtime, little one." He began to close the book. You put your hand on the page that was open to stop him. "Please, just five more minutes! The story's almost over, anyway!"

Satan sighed. "Alright, five more minutes."

asmodeus

"Hmm? Our wedding?" Asmodeus was confused, to say the least.

Asmo brushed your hair, fixing it up in time before breakfast. You sat on the edge of his bed as he talked to you about all the new hair products he got you yesterday while shopping. Well, until you began talking about your future wedding together.

You nodded, he stopped brushing your hair, the brush still in his hands as he held it in the air. "Yeah, our wedding!"

"Why would we have a wedding, hon?" Asmodeus questioned you. He watched as you sputtered, trying to come up with an answer. He just giggled at you and smiled. "That's just not possible, dear." He continued to brush your hair.

"Huh? Why not?!" You seemed hell bent on marrying him, for familiar reasons of course, but nobody knew how to explain that to you.

"Hmm, I'm not sure how to explain it..." Asmodeus looked for an answer, hoping it would suddenly pop up in his brain.

Unfortunately, that light bulb in his head didn't light up, so Asmo stayed quiet and continued to brush your hair.

beelzebub

Even though it was a Saturday, everyone (mostly Lucifer) was still on about how you had woken up late. Everyone except Beelzebub, of course. He had even saved you a plate at breakfast! How kind and caring!

As you sat down at the dining table, he handed you the plate of food. You thanked him. It wasn't often the glutton would save someone food, unless it was you.

"Thanks, dad! I'm gonna marry you!" You hugged him tight, exciting for him to save you food every morning once you got married.

Beelzebub was... confused, to say the least. He continued to munch on his food, not sure how to act next.

He swallowed before speaking. "That's not how that works..." He looked around the room, looking for an answer. "Maybe you'll get married one day, just not to me." He finally decided on his answer, looking at you now.

"Okayyy..." You didn't understand, but who were you to ever argue with him?

belphegor

Belphie crouched and peaked his head under the blanket roof of the pillow fort you carefully constructed with him. "I got you something." He was hiding something behind his back. He took it out from behind, and there was a soft cow plushie in his hands. He smiled upon seeing your excitement towards it.

He gently put the cow plushie in your hands. You held it tight as you lay against the pillows, on top of the blanket flooring."Thank you, Belphie!" He hummed. "Heck, I might even marry you!"

The Avatar of Sloth raised an eyebrow.

"What...?" He questioned you quietly. You nodded. He knew it was just a saying, but he was slightly concerned. Asmodeus said that a lot. Was he finally rubbing of on you?

He finally went inside the pillow fort and got cozy. He took a pink blanket and covered you with it. It was silent for a bit.

"Where'd you learn that from?" He finally spoke, breaking the silence. "Asmo!" You exclaimed, holding the cow plushie even tighter.

"Ah." He knew it. He took the yellow blanket next to him and covered his legs, as he didn't feel like tucking in his upper half. The blanket had white stars scattered on the fabric.

He felt his eyes fluttering. He was about to fall asleep, but he still had something he wanted to say to you.

The pillow fort was quiet. You grabbed the book that was in between you and Belphie to begin reading where you left off. Before you could, Belphegor broke the silence once again.

"Hey..." He began. You looked up at him from your book. "Don't go around saying stuff like that, okay?" You flashed him a smile and gave him a thumbs up. That was the last thing he saw before falling asleep.

[throneofsapphics]

Hey! I would loovee a part two of ‘Theirs’, maybe where reader pulls away from nessian because she doesn’t trust them (especially intimately) after what happened

And they’re just in agony but realise if they act the way they did before, they might lose her forever

I’m a sucker for angst with a happy ending😅 (if you want)

theirs part two 

Nessian x f!Reader

(part one)

Summary: Everything came crashing out, the flood gates opened. “Is there a way to fix this? I felt violated, hurt, and neither of you even bothered to ask.”

Warnings: some angst, discussions of SA/dubcon, not proofread

A/N: thank you for requesting it! sorry it took so long, this is a bit shorter and kinda went off script

The next morning, both of them acted as if nothing was wrong. Like it was another ordinary day with the events of the previous night washed clean. You couldn’t wash that fear out of your memory. Sure there was arousal present, but the entire night had not sit right with you. Still, you kept a smile on your face and kept up the pretense. Mainly because you didn’t know what else you could dol. You didn’t find your own release that night either. Maybe they didn’t know, or were trying to punish you. Either way, it didn’t matter right now. 

Cassian leaned in for a kiss as he left, he was already running late, but you turned your head, letting him leve one on your cheek. He frowned at you but didn’t time to question it as he took off. You let out a slow breath as he flew away. He hadn’t the time to question it and you planned it that way. Nesta wasn’t present either, and you know she would’ve had questions. She’d always been particularly observant. 

You tried to put up a good front, but after a week Nesta finally brought it up. 

“What’s wrong?” It was just the two of you, in the library. 

“Nothing,” you said shortly, returning your focus to your book. She snatched it from your hands, marking your page and setting it aside. 

“Talk to me.” Her words were a plea, almost begging. “You’ve barely kissed or touched either of us all week, haven’t spoken much - you’re turning into a ghost.” 

You didn’t know how to answer her, what kind of words would actually explain it. Nesta waited not-so-patiently, but she could see you were thinking and held her tongue. “That night, after Rita’s,” you spoke quietly. “Put yourself in my shoes.” 

Anything else, you might’ve burst into tears and left her to her thoughts, searching for a place you could find some peace and solace. 

You knew Nesta would speak to Cassian about it, and they’d likely try to find you after dinner - you’d taken to eating somewhere else, feigning work to do. 

Sure enough, they showed up and you ended up in one of the cozier sitting areas. 

“I thought you enjoyed it,” Nesta started. 

“My body did …” you took a few deep breaths, calming yourself. “But I didn’t feel safe.” 

“Why didn’t you say something?” Cassian countered. 

“You didn’t give me a chance,” you snapped at him. 

Nesta’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry.” Out of all things, you never expected Nesta to apologize to you. Actually, you’re not certain you’ve heard those words come out of her mouth before. “How do we fix this?” 

Everything came crashing out, the flood gates opened. “Is there a way to fix this? I felt violated, hurt, and neither of you even bothered to ask.” Your breathing grew heavy, fists clenched, a tightness in your chest.” 

“A safeword.” Nesta blurted out. 

“It’s not just about sex,” you snarled, “I was having fun. FInally introducing you to my friends, and you couldn’t wait til the Gods-damned night was over before dragging me out.” 

You left the room, any longer and you might’ve said something you would truly regret. 

It took months for them to earn your trust back. So many discussions on boundaries, and you could tel they were really trying. They asked to meet your friends again, in a different setting, and you relented. If there was any jealousy, they kept it firmly under wraps. You loved them, with all of your heart, and managed to trust again, to let them back in. 

[scarletttries]

I Can Read You Like A History Book (Steven Grant Request)

Pairing: Steven Grant (Moon Knight) x Reader

Rating: Explicit (Gender neutral pronouns through, a little bit of teasing but mostly just sweet)

Word Count: 1.5k

Request: " Could you write a reader forcing Steven to read while they stroke him please."

Author's Note: Another bit of Steven Grant love for everyone (like me) who isn't over him yet 🥹 Thank you to everyone sending me these headcanons, please send more Steven requests/thots anytime 🥰

I Can Read You Like A History Book

Steven didn't really understand the phrase 'good night' until he met you.

Before you, nights were an endless cause of stress, confusion and a one way ticket to a morning of feeling more exhausted than ever. Steven dreaded the feeling of his eyes growing heavy, reluctantly locking himself into place for the night and fighting off the cold of the night, alone in his cocoon of blankets. Those bitter memories seem a lifetime away now though: the once lonely sheets now wrapped around you both, your shared warmth and joy soothing his restless heart and mind. No, settling into bed with you was now one of Steven's great joys, draping an arm over your waist to ground himself as all else drifted away. Occasionally though, he did need a little reminder that he no longer needed to spend all night keeping himself up.

Tonight was one of those nights.

It started with a new book, on Egyptian history of course, a brand new volume from his favourite researcher all about newly discovered artifacts in the desert and what they might mean. You watched him break into it the minute he got home from work, barely glancing up as you ate dinner, apologetic but entranced by the words. Not that you minded, it was always a pleasure to see Steven happy and excited, the bright sparkle in his eye as he absorbed the new knowledge and gasped along to the groundbreaking discoveries. You'd first met Steven at the museum, asking a simple question about one of the exhibits and getting an hour-long private tour in return. There was something about the way he shone as he spoke, the passion in his words, the intelligence behind those disarmingly good looks that had your heart beating faster every day since. Even tonight as he sat quietly on his sofa, you watched his eyes flitting word to word, tongue darting out as he worked through the pages and felt a warmth spreading throughout your entire being.

You left him to it as night approached, popping on a lamp when it grew darker, and bringing a fresh cup of tea when the old one was long forgotten and horribly cold. But when Steven's excitable gasps turned to hard-fought yawns, you decided it was time to call it a night for you both, jnowing he would need a little bit of persuading to set his book aside. Pulling on one of Steven's loose jumpers and sliding out of your jeans you put your plan in motion.

The enraptured man finally pulled his eyes away from the text as you settled onto the sofa beside him, resting your head against his shoulder as his lips pressed to your forehead instinctively,

"How's your book going gorgeous?" You asked softly, watching his beaming smile as he gushed excitedly, "It's incredible! It could prove the ancient Egyptians had even more deities than we thought! Doing all different jobs for the people and their lands." You combed your fingers through the mop of curls languishing on his forehead, cuddling closer as you asked pleadingly,

"Will you read some of it to me? Please Steven." The wide adoration in your eyes as you stared up at him had his heart skipping a beat, momentarily losing the ability to read or speak as he took in your loving gaze. It wasn't until you nodded towards the book that he re-joined you on planet Earth and snapped back to attention,

"Oh right! Of course love, sorry." And with that his eyes returned to the page, narrating the discoveries with heartfelt wonder as you cuddled close to his side, on hand still running through his thick hair, listening to his breath catch in his throat whenever your fingers caught the most sensitive spots on his neck. Slowly you let your free hand drift to his lap, delicately tracing shapes over his thigh through the soft fabric of his plaid pyjamas. Though you intentionally made your movements seem absent-minded, you paid close enough attention to hear the soft hum Steven let out at your touch, before quickly returning to the words on his page, slightly embarrassed by his sensitivity to your touch. As he continued line by line, you let your hand drift slightly higher, watching a blush creep across his cheeks every time his voice went up an octave at your caresses. Feeling increasingly flustered Steven felt his mind wandering away from his book, the blood exiting his brain in favour of other parts of him. He tried to keep his composure as you looked up at him adoring, letting out a sharp whine as you pulled your hands away from him. His eyes snapped up to your shifting form, breaking his literary flow with a disappointed look,

"I'm just getting comfier gorgeous," You said sweetly, lifting one leg over his lap until you were straddling his thighs, unavoidably brushing yourself over the bulge forming between them. His eyes fluttered shut for a second, head tilting back, book all but forgotten until you lifted his chin with a gently placed finger tip, giving him your best innocent pout,

"Please keep reading to me Steven, I love listening to you. You're so smart," You punctuated the word with a kiss on his forehead and a circle of your hips, "and so cute," this time your lips landed on his nose, "and so sexy." Finally you found his lips, planting a chaste kiss and getting a fevered nod in response, his eyes desperately trying to focus on the pages in his hands as you let yours fall into his lap.

He picked up the narrative again, voice a lot more flustered this time, struggling to take in the words as your fingers started brushing lightly over the now obvious tent in his pants. The light friction was enough to make his hips twitch, his brow furrowing in concentration as he kept up his best effort at articulation. Gradually your teasing touches grew firmer, rubbing your thumb over his clothed tip, the gentle circles of your hips bringing Steven closer and closer to the edge. You rubbed your palm over the length of him, feeling his thighs start to shake as he stumbled and stammered over every attempted word, his usual tone replaced by whines and moans as you moved.

"Umm, love, I.." He started, eyes no longer fixed to his text but to your steadily brushing hand instead. You paused your movements at his break in focus, earning an involuntary whimper as his hips bucked helplessly chasing his release.

"Please keep reading Steven." This time your tone was less sweet, more teasing, watching his eyes widen in desperation for your touch, so close to his release as he picked up the story's thread, sighing in relief as your hand returned to its rightful place around him. As you palmed him through his pyjamas you took two fingers into your mouth, sucking enthusiastically with a hum before they left your lips with an audible pop. Steven frantically tried to ignore the motion, struggling to sound out each word as the heat inside him grew, gulping as you pulled the waistband of his pants open slightly to slip your now slick hand inside. You ran your wet fingertips over his sticky tip, thumb rubbing a firm line down his length, and he was gone. The book clattered from his hand as he groaned your name, hips shaking beneath you as you pumped the length of him, feeling his underwear fill with his own warmth, the bliss of his release painting your hand and his lower stomach. He sighed exhaustedly as he came down from his high, leaning forward to kiss you hungrily, hands finding your waist with a vice-like grip. As he pulled you tightly against his chest you rocked against his thigh, suddenly painfully aware of your own aching arousal, the fun of teasing Steven stirring up more than a little excitement inside you. His hands drifted down to cup your ass, squeezing with a hum as his lips still clung to yours, smiling as he rocked forward, getting to his feet with you wrapped around his waist. He finally pulled his head back for a breath, a wide smile across his face as he asked breathlessly,

"Do you really like hearing me read that much?" You nodded happily, returning his kiss before adding,

"That and I think it's time for us to go to bed." You watched as your words put a devilish smile on his usually innocent face, carrying to you towards the bedroom in total agreement,

"You're absolutely right love, but you're not getting to sleep before I pay you back for that little stunt."

Safe to say going to bed wasn't something Steven dreaded anymore.

[manicformunson]

Hey bestie do you think you can write something about the reader just having a shit day and when she gets home wants nothing more than to be close to Eddie and cuddle- but she still feels like it’s not close enough so she asks Eddie to cockhold and while they do it this man is trying his hardest not to get turned on👀

it had become a routine if you were having a bad day, come home pouting and immediately plop down with eddie. some nights you just needed to be as close to eddie as humanly possible.

tonight was one of those nights.

you had a tough day at work and had been looking forward to just sinking down on the couch in eddie's trailer in his arms. it was what had gotten you through the day to be honest.

as soon as you entered the trailer you tossed your bag somewhere near the counter and kicked off your shoes, settling beside eddie who had his nose in a book.

his arm immediately wrapped around you in a small hug before you felt his lips on your head.

"hey sweetheart, bad day?"

you only huffed in response which earned a chuckle from him. you're body still felt cold in his warm touch.

you decided you needed more. so you maneuvered your way until you were straddling him, your chin on his shoulder and arms around his torso.

eddie snorted at you, hugging you back with his book behind you so he could continue reading as you snuggled.

frustrated, you still decided you needed more.

an idea popped in your head, something that could definitely fill your needs.

"mm eddie?"

your sweet voice rang through his ears so soft, he hummed back at you, his eyes not moving from his page.

"can i sit on you?" you asked, saying it out loud made you a little flustered.

"you're sittin' on me already." eddie giggled. he knew what you were trying to say, he just liked seeing you get all nervous.

he bounced his knee a little so you'd look back up at him; you silently pleaded, poking your bottom lip out in hopes that it'll have an affect and it did.

"fine, go ahead honey."

eddie watched you happily get off his lap and lean down to undo his pants. he would be lying if he said everytime you asked to do this he didn't enjoy it also.

not only the intimacy of it, but the fact that you are so needy for him -- it warms his heart.

and his dick.

you hummed softly once you had taken him out and quickly got back in his lap to sink down on him. "shit baby." eddie choked out as you took all of him, not stopping until he was completely inside you.

you laid your pretty little head back down on his shoulder and he tried to find the line he left off on but his brain was sputtering out the longer he was inside you.

eddie was a horny bastard yes, but he also knew sometimes you just needed him and not in a sexual way but goddamn was it hard when your pussy welcomed him so good.

you shifted slightly, making eddie groan in your ear softly and grip at your waist with one hand.

"can't do that again sweetheart, okay?"

you only giggled and then eddie thought maybe that was your plan all along.

[ggukiepie]

girl in luv (boy in luv pt. 6)

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: jungkook finally tells you what you've been wanting to hear for so long...but you're still not happy

tags: bil!couple, college!au, bff!jk, two idiots in love, angst (what's new), fluff, happy ending !!!, kissing hihi

wc: 3.5k

a/n: lmaoooo hi im sorry this took so long. i didn't like what i originally wrote so i scrapped the whole thing and well here it is! i hope u guys like it. this is the last part for the series. tho i do plan to post some drabbles here and there (like their first time together maybe) but no promises anw thats its bye happy reading !!!! series masterlist / main masterlist

~*~

Your phone suddenly buzzes—someone was calling you. Though, instead of answering it, you stuff your phone between your couch cushions to block out the noise. You don’t dare look at your screen, sure you’ll get tempted to answer the call—whoever that was. You haven’t got much social interaction these days, always choosing to go straight home after each class, eating by yourself, declining invites to parties and hangouts. It’s not like anyone’s forcing you to be this way. You did this to yourself, really. You’d rather be alone than hangout with people. You didn’t have the energy to do so. You just wanted to be in your bubble a little bit longer.

Deep down, you know you’re craving to talk to someone. Anyone. But somehow you always end up alone. With your thoughts.

Self-sabotage, if you will.

The thoughts don’t help either. Your mind always drifts to Jungkook. Sometimes you think about him and his girlfriend. Most of the time, you think of your friendship. You missed what you had, even though you had to guard your heart every time, even if you got your hopes up at the simplest of actions. You missed being with Jungkook because for the time you were with him, he felt like he was…yours? There was no doubt that you were his. Had been from the start but didn’t realize it till later on. Your heart always craved for him, yearned for him when he wasn’t with you. Your heart felt lighter when you were together, be it doing the most mundane of things or sharing a special moment.

If you could just toughen up and tell him how you feel. But it was easier said than done. He already indirectly rejected you when he got together with some girl. But why would he reject you if he never knew how you felt? Maybe you were too busy protecting your heart, protecting the friendship you might lose if you would’ve confessed. You never thought he’d feel the same, even though you had moments that felt like he did.

You shake your head to rid your thoughts. You try to focus on writing the essay in front of you. Your Friday nights felt different now—stuck doing homework while your friends were partying.

You’re finally two pages deep when you hear frantic knocking on your door. You check the time on your laptop and see it’s a little past one in the morning. You suddenly rush to open your door, scared that you’d get a noise complaint all of a sudden.

You stand frozen, mouth agape at the scene in front of you.

“Huh?” you dumbly say.

It’s your three closest friends in your doorway. Jimin and Taehyung are somewhat conscious—at least they’re standing upright. But you notice the sway in their stance and you can smell the alcohol off of them. But it’s Jungkook between them that makes you freeze. He’s passed out, you’re sure of it, and the only reason why he’s sort of standing up is because Jimin and Tae have his arms around their shoulders.

“Why are you guys here?” you finally say.

It’s Taehyung who speaks up, smiling that smile he has when he wants something to go his way. When he has a plan that you might say no to (which you usually do). “Jungkook,” he points at Jungkook, as if you’d confuse him with anyone else, “is drunk.”

“I can see that,” you deadpan.

“And!” Tae rushes to say, like you’re about five seconds from shutting the door in their faces. “He kept asking for you. So we are simply complying with his request.”

“Because we are great friends,” Jimin pipes in. Taehyung nods in confirmation.

“Me?” you whisper, as if Taehyung were referring to anyone else. Your mind isn’t any better than his drunk one at this point.

“Yes!” Jimin whisper shouts. “Now let us in, he’s kinda getting heavy.”

Jungkook makes an incoherent sound from where his head is leaning on Tae’s shoulder, drool making a wet patch on the poor guy’s shirt. You take pity on your best friend and step aside to let in all of them, even though your heart’s racing because Jungkook is in your apartment.

Holy shit.

You watch them bring his unconscious body to your couch (they actually drop Jungkook and giggle all the way to your door, saying their goodbyes without looking back).

You huff at the sight in front of you. Jungkook’s cheeks are flushed red and he’s a little bit sweaty. Though, he looks so peaceful sleeping on your couch. Was he really looking for you?

You get a glass of water and two aspirins, placing it on the coffee table near him. The moment you near him, you kneel by his head and wipe the stray hairs on his forehead. You look at Jungkook, like really look at him. His eyebrows are scrunched together like something’s troubling him in his dreams. His lips are in a slight pout, lip ring glistening under your light (when did he get that, anyway?), little puffs of air coming out his mouth.

“Am I…” he mumbles. Your heart races. His eyes are still closed, but his mouth continues to move. “Am I at ____’s?”

Your heart seizes at the sound of your name. You gulp and nod slowly, then realize that he can’t hear you. “Yeah…” you trail off. “You’re in my living room.”

“Oh,” your best friend says as his eyebrows scrunch up some more. “Missed you.”

You sit back on the floor and hug your knees to yourself, preparing for whatever it is that he might say next. A drunk man’s words are his sober thoughts, right?

“Jimin and Tae said you were looking for me?”

“Mhmm,” he mumbles. “Wanted to… tell you somethin’”

You shake your head. Though your heart yearned to know, you also do know it’s not the right time. Not when he’s drunk. He might just regret his words now the next morning, which might even hurt worse than what he’s about to say. “Save it for tomorrow, Kook.” You push yourself off the floor but he stops you by holding your wrist, albeit weakly.

“Nuh uh…” he whispers. “Need to know…now. Broke up with Jiwoo.” He opens his eyes slightly and looks at you right away.

“Jungkook—”

“Like,” he continues to say, “I did it for you.”

You feel your anger rising, your body heating everywhere. “I didn’t tell you to do anything,” you firmly say.

Jungkook moves to sit up and you take a step back. “No,” he shakes his head slowly. “Jus’ didn’t feel right.”

You feel tears welling up in your eyes and you finally walk to your bedroom, slamming the door and locking it shut. You block out the sounds of Jungkook weakly calling out your name. Your fists clench in anger, the words Jungkook just uttered replaying in your head over and over. He couldn’t just dump his problems, turn around the narrative and make it seem like you made him break up with Jiwoo. That you asked him to end things with her because it didn’t feel right. And he forced himself into your home, your personal space—and drunk at that! He knew all your weak spots and used it to his advantage.

You hope he’d be gone in the morning. You don’t think your heart can hurt any more.

You hear pans clinking which promptly wakes you up. You weren’t able to sleep that much, actually, knowing Jungkook was right outside your room. You guess he stayed in the morning. He’s either cooking in your kitchen, or someone’s trying to steal your pans.

Rubbing your eyes as you open your bedroom door, you spot Jungkook by the stove with his back turned to you. He seems to be making scrambled eggs—which is the only thing he can make confidently.

“Morning,” you say. You might as well clear the air as early as now. You watch his back tense for a millisecond before he turns off the stove and sets the pan on your dining table. He turns to face you and brings a hand up to brush his hair back, a nervous tick of his that you noticed a few years back.

“Good morning,” he mumbles.

“So,” you start.

It’s so awkward you might cry again. When did things get this out of place? You start to rethink your feelings. You haven’t even confessed yet it feels like you’ve lost your best friend already. What if you confessed? What would happen then? You felt your heart closing just thinking about it now. Was your friendship really that fragile? You and Jungkook hardly fought but even if you did, you always made up right away.

“___,” he says. You look up, eyes meeting his instantly. “About last night… I’m sorry I suddenly barged into your place. I guess I really forced Tae and Jimin to bring me here.”

You nod and lean on the wall behind you, preparing for a long talk with him.

“I just really missed you, I guess—”

“Do you remember what you said last night?” you ask harshly, cutting him off so quick his shoulders tense.

Jungkook swallows nervously and nods his head. “Yeah and… I don’t know if there’s a better to say it, really. But we did break up, ____. She just wasn’t it for me.”

“And you said you did it for me,” you say, pushing him to just get to the point.

“Yes, because I realized that my heart never belonged to her. It belonged to you. Still does,” he says in a rush.

You eye him sharply, staring at his features and expression to make sure he’s completely telling the truth. You want to believe him, you really do, but why would he say that then be with someone else.

“It doesn’t make sense,” you finally say. “Why did you get together with her, then?”

“I don’t know—”

“You don’t know,” you repeat, and Jungkook’s eyes widen in panic. “You think you can come running to me right after a break up? Like I’m some second option? You don’t love her enough so you run to me instead?”

Jungkook opens and closes his mouth, mind thinking quickly to say something. His hands start to tremble and he brings a hand up to push back his hair. “I didn’t mean that,” he says hoarsely. “I didn’t realize it soon… And—” he stutters to catch his breath. “I was just scared—”

You’re fuming at this point. How could he do this to you? To just play with your feelings like that? “Get out.”

“____—"

“I mean it, Jungkook,” you shakily say. “You’ve hurt me enough. Just leave, please.”

He looks at you longingly, doe eyes watering before he nods and turns to the door in silence. You watch him put his shoes on before he leaves, not sparing you a glance. You don’t realize you’ve been tearing up as well, wiping the tears on your cheeks. Walking to the kitchen counter, you realize that Jungkook made chocolate chip pancakes. Your favorite.

It’s been a week since the incident with Jungkook and you haven’t talked to him since then. You also missed your weekly brunch with your friends, too afraid to face Jungkook. Thinking about it now, were you a little bit too harsh? Maybe. You thought you’d finally be happy upon hearing his confession but instead you pushed him away, shut him out. Because you’re scared. Terrified. Things were already going so well with Jungkook when you both were just best friends and you don’t think you can lose him forever should you actually get together and then break up.

Funny since it feels like you’ve lost him already.

It’s 8 am and you’re all alone in the student council office, trying to get some studying done as you were restless staying in your apartment. Staying there just reminds you of Jungkook, so you’ve been spending your mornings here before the other people arrive.

Suddenly, the door opens which is unusual. You usually have the place to yourself for at least another three hours. Curiously, you look up and find your best friend standing by the doorway, laptop and coffee in hand.

It’s silent for a moment, the both of you drinking each other in. Jungkook looks like he hasn’t gotten much sleep, eye bags dark and skin lackluster. You suppose you don’t look any better, knowing you barely got any sleep the past few days.

“Hi,” he finally says. You’re glad you have the long table separating the two of you. You don’t think your heart can handle being physically closer.

“Are you here for something?” you ask hesitantly.

“Can I…” He trails off, looking at the printer by the corner. You’d be laughing by now under normal circumstances. You nod instead, because it’s bizarre seeing Jungkook here asking if he can print something, which is something he liked to do back when your friendship was intact. The room is silent as you see him connect his laptop to the printer, both of you avoiding each other’s eyes. It’s too silent, actually, that it’s driving you a bit insane.

“How many pages?” you ask.

“Uhm… Fifty?” he says like he’s unsure.

“Fifty?” you repeat in a gasp. The printer is free, sure, but it’s ancient. Fifty pages will take too long and you don’t know if you can stand being in the room with him for half an hour or so.

Jungkook hands you the coffee he brought with him. “I bought you coffee as thanks.” He smiles ever so slightly and watches as you take a sip. Of course, it’s your usual order at the café down the street.

He looks at you expectantly but you’re too busy looking down at the coffee in your hands, too nervous to lock eyes with him. A few seconds later you hear him exhale and it’s just the sound of the printer in the room.

Your chest feels so tight all of a sudden like it’s ready to burst out of your ribcage any minute. It feels so heavy, so constricting that it’s starting to hurt physically. Is it really worth it harboring all this anger and pain? For conjuring up these theories in your head that will make you push him further away?

You shake your head to yourself and look up expecting to lock eyes with his, but his back is turned to you.

“Did you really mean what you said last week?” you blurt out.

Jungkook jumps in surprise and whips his body to face you, doe eyes wide. He looks surprised but he also looks relieved, and your heart breaks a little more seeing the relief cross his face the moment you talk to him.

He starts playing with the hem of his shirt absentmindedly. “I did,” he mumbles. “I mean every word I said, and I’m really sorry that everything had to turn out this way when I could’ve just been brave and confessed all those years ago.”

You nod your head at his words and process what he just said. Deep down you know you believe him, but it’s hard to keep that in mind when the hurt outweighs the truth. You look up at him with a sad smile on your face. “Why now, Kook? After all these years.”

He sighs and leans on the chair in front of him. You notice his shoulders deflate and his back hunch a little. He looks tired and you feel your own tiredness in your bones as well. “I was just scared. Us being friends was so comfortable and so good… I was just scared of things changing and me losing you.”

You bite your lip to stop yourself from crying. Looking to the side of the room to avoid his stare, you whisper, “And I know—” you choke on your words and clench your hands in frustration. “And I know I’m at fault as well—for assuming and pulling away once you got together with her. I had no right because we’re just…friends.”

It’s quiet save for the printer and his feet shuffling on the floor. You turn towards him to see Jungkook slowly walking to where you’re sat. Once he’s standing in front of you, he raises his hands towards your face but stops midway. Like he’s about to hold you but he’s hesitant.

You’re tilting your head to look up at him, eyes shiny with tears but lip turned upwards in a small smile. It’s ok, you mouth, because you don’t trust yourself to speak right now. You watch Jungkook hold your face in his hands, thumbs going behind your ears to rub at your skin slowly, fingers splayed on your cheeks to wipe your tears away.

He gathers your face in his hands, thumbs gently brushing the tears streaming down your cheeks. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers shakily. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m so, so sorry.”

You nod your head absentmindedly, heart squeezing at the affectionate way he talks to you.

“I really am sorry,” he repeats. “I… Yeah, we’re just friends but I’d like to believe that we both just know. That you felt my love the same I’ve been feeling yours ever since. Even though we’re just friends. But…I know better now.”

You look at him confusingly and he looks away from you and smiles, his cheeks turning a light shade of red. You watch in silence as he plays with his lip piercing distractedly. Finally, he turns to you still with that smile on his face. His thumb starts playing with your lower lip but he’s looking at you with so much adoration in his eyes.

You’ve seen this look on him before, every time you’re with him, and now do you only realize that it’s a look full of love, desire, yearning.

“It’s scary if we do become something more and I end up losing you,” he starts, “but I’d rather live a life of at least knowing what it feels like to love you and be loved by you, than doing nothing at all.”

Tears are streaming down your face but you’re smiling so wide and Jungkook’s doing the same as well, with his nose even scrunching up and his dimples showing.

“I think it’s normal to feel scared,” you finally reply. “But I’d also rather live a life of us loving together than loving from afar.”

It’s silent for a moment as you and Jungkook stare at each other. He’s wiping off your tears which makes him cry a little more, so you wipe his tears next. You’re both crying now but with happy smiles on your faces and it prompts you both to laugh.

“We were kinda stupid, huh?” Jungkook says in between giggles.

You nod and giggle back. “A bit silly, yeah.”

“Can I kiss you?” he suddenly asks. Your heart starts racing and your palms get clammy. You start feeling nervous but it’s the good kind, finally getting to do something you’ve been anticipating, been waiting for ever since you realized your heart belonged to your best friend.

“Please,” you whisper.

Jungkook wastes no times in leaning forward, his grip on your cheeks tightening just a bit, pulling you upwards to meet his lips. Your lips finally touch and it steals your breath away. Quite literally.

Jungkook’s lips are soft, slots perfectly right in between yours. He kisses how he holds you—gentle and careful. Your heart skips a beat when you feel his tongue, and you grant his wish by opening your lips just slightly.

There are no fireworks or sparks or anything grand like that. Your heart suddenly feels calm and at ease. Like this is what you’re meant to do. It feels like coming home for the first time where everything feels right. You feel a great weight lift off your shoulders and you know you’ve made the right decision by choosing love.

Jungkook pulls back but only slightly so he can catch his breath. He keeps his forehead pressed against yours and when he speaks, you feel his lips move.

“I love you,” he whispers, and the way he looks at you with his eyes, like it holds so much love and adoration and it’s all for you. “Wish I said it sooner but I don’t want to think about that. Don’t want to live and continue on with regrets. I’m so happy to have you like this,” he whispers shakily. “So lucky to be able to love you like this.”

You kiss him again which causes him to smile so wide that his dimples pop out. “I love you too.” You giggle again. Saying it is so freeing and it feels so normal too. Not some grand epiphany or realization. Like you’ve known ever since. Like your heart has felt this way throughout your years of friendship with Jungkook and only now are you able to verbalize it. You know you’re lucky, too, to be able to have him in this way. But you don’t want to give too much credit to luck. You believe yours and Jungkook’s love were destined ever since.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Hi Luna!

You wanted requests so i thought of something.

What about a blurb/fic of Cedric Diggory x fem!hufflepuffreader, in which fem is a very bubbly, happy sunshine character but the better they get to know each other, he finds her jealous side,which she trys to hide because she is always so nice. Maybe this surprises him but he finds it cute/hot. 👀

It’s very general but english isnt my first language so i don’t know.

Have a great day lovely 🫶🏻

-🍓🍰

Pairing: Cedric Diggory x Fem!Hufflepuff Reader

Warnings: AFAB reader, Toxic 'he's mine' mentality, Jealousy

Type: Fanfic x reader

Request: Anon

Word Count: Way longer than I anticipated for my first fic

Prompt: Cedric Diggory witnesses the sweet reader be jealous for the first time.

Notes: Thank you so much, Anon! Yay, my first request!!! I'm so excited to fulfill this for you! I hope I am okay with my writing; here's hoping for the best. I have my request page on my blog if anyone else wants to ask away! Cedric also doesn't die in this spinoff. (I always cried so hard at that part) P.S. I do use Grammarly as my spelling/grammar checker. I have Dyslexia, so if things are Choppy or if they look off, please don't hesitate to reach out to me and give me some constructive criticism or suggestions!

Sweet As A Daisy Smells~~~~ Cedric Diggory

You remember your first day at Hogwarts like it was yesterday, even if years have passed. The beautiful architecture, the food, the Witches and Wizards of your year, of course, nothing would beat the year below you and their entrance, seeing as Harry Potter had joined your school that year. However, one small thing might beat what the fourth years have, being placed in Cedric Diggory's house.

Yes, you were like every other star-struck 5th year and younger following Diggory. The only difference between you and them is you actually accidentally made friends with the male. It was purely an accident, not a perfectly strategic mastermind plot between you and your friends to 'plop' you in his path.

It was innocent, really; you had a notorious reputation for being one of the sweetest Witches and Hufflepuffs. Someone needs help with homework: you're on it. Someone needs a quick snack: you're in the kitchen helping the house elves. An animal is wounded and hurting: you're on your hands and knees in the dirt, healing the animal as best you can till Hagrid can assist you. You were overall a genuinely nice person even the Draco Malfoy ran out of insults to throw your way because you were so unfazed: just telling him gently, "I know we all have bad days and feel the need to belittle others, it's okay, I won't judge you for it."

Your masterful plan to 'plop' you in front of Diggory was simple and well executed; you took the initiative to help the quidditch team clean and organize their equipment one night. Your roommate, Elaine Mellonfellow, was the one who came up with the idea, as she was usually one of the three on the team that ended up with that job. She would simply suggest to her captain that you take her place for a handful of sessions so she could 'serve detention.' This was a convincing plan, especially considering Elaine's tendency to doze off during Professor Snape's lectures.

Taking the bait, hook, line, and sinker, Diggory happily agreed to an extra pair of hands to help keep the team's quidditch equipment in top shape. This is what led you to now. It went from a handful of crafted detentions by Elaine to her simply stopping showing up, and you always did. Some would say you should be mad at your friend's obvious ruse to get out of a daunting chore, but you saw it simply as a good friend making sure you got close to your crush and close you definitely got.

Weeks of small talk turned into life stories and learning in detail about one another. You learned about his father's work in the ministry, about how he knew the Weasely brothers through their fathers, how he worked hard to become Quidditch captain, and that his almost least favorite color was, in fact, yellow. However, his years in Hufflepuff definitely helped change that.

While you were learning about Diggory to the fullest extent, he quickly learned much about you. Your fierce loyalty was the only thing preventing you from being in any of the other houses. You never gave up on a task, consistently achieved the highest marks in your year, and helped everyone out as often as possible. Always putting others before yourself, especially Elaine, who he has caught multiple times not being in 'detention' and though he would like to reprimand his chaser for skipping out on duties. He couldn't bring himself out of fear you would stop coming to help every week. Course, this could be solved if he could buck up the courage to talk to you outside of the quidditch tents, but there is a reason why he isn't a Gryffindor. It was fair to say that you were the sweetest, warmest human he had ever met, and he was addicted to you like a bee to a daisy.

All of these stolen moments have led up to today, the day Cedric found out you were, in fact, not just the cutest human in the world but also a vicious opponent in the arena of love.

After dinner in the great hall, you and Elaine make your way to your normal departure point, where she would 'go to detention,' and you would take her place as the ever-faithful cleaner of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. "Elaine, you are becoming far too obvious that you are not in detention when I am out there with him. What if he thinks I am a weirdo stalker chick who told you not to do your duties?"

Elaine snorted before speaking, "Yeah, cause Mister Lovey Goo Goo Eyes is definitely going to give up on spending time with his precious Y/N." You roll your eyes in frustration, with a slight blush present when Elaine speaks up again.

"Don't believe me, Y/N. He talks about you during our entire rest period during morning and evening practices. You might as well already be his girlfriend. If I hear him preach about how your favorite flowers are daisies again, I will puke." Elaine made a fake puking motion before laughing again at you.

"You look like a maniac, dork." you begin to laugh at Elaine's theatrics. Shaking off your nerves from Elaine's words, you begin to wonder. 'Does Cedric really talk about me that much...What if this is all being read horribly wrong, the man has half of Hogwarts on his side 24/7'

"Hey, now get out of your head; I know that look and that lip bite. Come on you are practically my sister, and he is practically my brother with all the time we spend together as a team. I promise you you got this. Just woman up and ask him out already before someone else does." As Elaine spoke to you, she followed the silhouette of Cho Chang on her way toward the quidditch pitches.

Sighing and following along as well, you felt a slight pang in your heart. Everyone knew that Cho Chang was in love with Cedric—so much so that she even rejected Harry Potter. She was perfect, the best representation of smarts, beauty, and poise that you definitely weren't. You were out there every week helping clean in the dirt and mud, for Christ's sake. You would never compare to her, and that ate you alive. Cho had shown her face at a few of your cleaning nights with Cedric. At first, it didn't bother you; they were the same year, and she could have needed help with classwork. Then, the day Harry asked her out, she turned him down only to show up that night laughing and hanging on to Cedric, making it very, VERY clear to him how she didn't like Harry. You knew right then and there. Game On.

Straightening your back, you turn to Elaine, a smile scarily plastered on your face. "I am going in," you begin to walk towards the pitch when you hear from behind, "Maybe don't smile like that; it's a bit unnerving, love! I'll be in the room of requirements with the twins!" Waving by to Elaine, you finish your trek to the pitch to see none other than Cho Chang clinging to Cedric. The slight pang boils into a full-blown constriction.

To onlookers that night, the smile on your face went from mildly unnerving to straight terrifying. Like a Lioness hunting her pray for her young. To Cedric, he just saw his girl walking up to him. Pulling away from Cho, he ran up to you. "Hi, Y/N; I was beginning to worry you got 'detention' too." Using air quotes around detention, your attention moved from the shocked female to the lovely boy before you. "Oh, Cedric, I would never miss this. Who else would help you? Elaine seems to be getting in trouble often lately. Must be all that time with the twins." A warm blush overcame your face as you rubbed the back of your head gently.

"She sure does. Why don't we get started? I was thinking of a full revamp of the whole broom closet. For some reason, half the team thinks that just haphazardly throwing their equipment in there is the best thing to do." Cedric smiled down at you, eager to start his routine and banter with you. Nodding gently, you began to walk into the tent with Cedric when a small voice spoke out behind you. "So that's what you two do in there; clean. I could always help Cedric. Here, let me lend a hand, too." Cho's voice rang like a small bell. A small bell that made you want to grit your teeth and commit a crime. Cedric just shrugged and turned to you. "I guess the more, the merrier, right Y/N?" You gently nodded your head when the constricted feeling in your chest slowly turned into a whole ball of hate.

The cleaning started like any other day; a soft, small conversation began between you and Cedric. Then it happened...that voice. That smooth, high, annoying voice that made you see red. It was bad enough that she pretended that you guys weren't always cleaning when she was hanging around. Even more annoying was her almost consistent interjecting in the conversation. You could feel your shoulders tensing every time she talked, and it didn't go unnoticed by the two peers helping you clean, either. "Everything alright, Y/N?" You could hear the concern laced in Cedric's voice, pulling you from your thoughts. "Yes I am just fine, a little tired is all but I can keep going theres not much left to do tonight anyway." Cedric nodded softly, placing a hand gently on your mid back in a comforting manner.

Then that voice again: "Cedric, it is getting awfully late, and curfew will be hitting soon. You're a prefect; maybe you could escort me back to my dorm so I don't get into trouble?" You saw it right there—the threat, the classic back-down girly pop, he's mine, the 'I get what I want because I am Cho Chang.' Not Today. "Actually, Cho," a sizeable fake smile plastered across your face, "Cedric and I have a pass from Madam Hooch to be out here past curfew to finish cleaning. You, however, seem to not have one of those. Maybe it would be best if you went back to your dorm now. Alone. Since curfew is in the next thirty minutes." You tilted your head sweetly at the girl, your forced smile still present. To others, you looked like your usual sweet self, maybe even regular sweet, with a little bit of derangement. However, Cedric picked up on your tone. That wasn't your normal tone at all. Holding back his smile, he watched the scene unfold.

"Oh, is that right, Y/N? Well, I am sure that Cedric wouldn't mind walking me back and letting you continue. It's just a short walk to Ravenclaw Tower. I know you would 'Hate' to see someone get into trouble after 'helping' you." Cho looked at you with the same false sense of kindness. You step towards her when Cedric interjected. "Cho is right; it's late, and it won't take long for us to walk up to the tower." You look at Cedric, defeated, Cho smugly standing behind him. "I will be right back, Y/N. Then we can finish cleaning." After his words, he walked to the tent's opening and guided Cho out. You couldn't describe the feeling you were having, sadness, hate, fear like you were going to throw up from anxiety because how did you lose to Cho Chang after everything Elaine said about Cedric liking you. A deep, heavy sigh left you as tears pooled in your eyes, watching the two return to the castle.

You grabbed one of the brooms nearby, not even realizing it was Cedric's, and took to the skies. You should get the heat out of your system. Now, you wouldn't say that you were a Quidditch player by any means. You were simply just fast and graceful on a broom. If they had synchronized broom work like the muggles had synchronized swimming, you would 100% join. However, Quidditch is a rough, dangerous sport, and something about a giant ball coming at your head screamed no, not for me. However, nothing mattered tonight except swoops, dives, quick turns, and sorting through the goals. Anything to take your mind off him with Cho. Cho touching him, Cho kissing him, Cho anywhere near him. As your mind raced, you went faster and faster. Not even noticing Cedric had made his way back.

Cedric stood at the opening of the pitch, arms crossed, watching you sore. Why you hadn't tried out for Seeker was beyond him; your speed rivaled that of Harry Potter. However, knowing your soft, sweet personality, he understood why you wouldn't. However, something about watching you zoom around in a jealous rage was very enthralling. Not only are you the pollen the bee is attracted to, but you are also the bee's sting. Jealousy was a perfect look on you. Smiling softly, he waited for you to calm down and land.

As the adrenaline and tears faded, you figured enough time had passed between them leaving and him returning, probably in a happy new relationship. Landing softly, looking up at the sky, you sighed, then turned to the pitch opening. Freezing in your tracks, you saw Cedric Diggory standing there with a smug look and his arms crossed. "Oh uh hey Diggory um, what's up?" You tried looking everywhere but him. "Nothing much, Y/N," He peered his head at your left hand holding the broom, "is that my broom you decided to use so gracefully in the sky." A deep red blush consumed your face as you hid the broom behind your back, shaking your head. Great, not only did he see you flying, but he also is going to think you're a crazy stalker who doesn't know her place using his stuff. A small laugh left Cedric's mouth as he walked up to you. You kept your head down, hoping he would disappear or maybe you would wake up in your bed, and this was all a horrid dream.

Cedric stopped in front of you and placed his hand gently on your head. "I turned her down, you know." You froze, eyes wide, still looking at the ground. "She asked me while we were walking up to her dorm, but I had to tell her I had given my heart to someone else." You slowly looked up at Cedric, and a soft red glow was on your face. "Though I will say Y/N jealousy is a good look on you. Why haven't you joined my team?" A snort left you, and not believing his words, you rebuttled. "I don't want to get hurt, is all." Cedric smiled, pulling you into a gentle hug. "I would never let anything hurt you, not a Quaffle or Cho Chang." You buried your head in to his chest a small laugh escaping you hugging Cedric back. In your soft embrace, you both failed to notice a displeased Madam Hooch approaching the pitch. "LISTEN, YOU TWO, I GAVE YOU A PASS TO CLEAN, NOT SNOG. GO TO YOUR DORMS." You both pulled away quickly, looking at her before running off laughing hard.

You and Cedric made it to your dorm hand in hand. Sadly, he still had prefect duties for the night while you needed to go to bed for a potion exam tomorrow. Taking your conjoined hands, Cedric places a soft kiss on your knuckles. A rose blush consumes your face. "Get some rest, and I will pick you up in the morning. We can go eat breakfast tomorrow in the great hall." You smiled widely and nodded. "Sounds good, Cedric. I will see you then." As you began to pull away, Cedric yanked you back into him. Looking up, Cedric cupped your face gently and kissed your mouth. The peck only lasted a second before he let go. "I'm sorry I couldn't help myself. The bee is just too attracted to the Daisie's pollen." You snorted before standing on your tip toes and kissing him again. This time, neither of you pulled away. Your arms snaked gently around Cedrcis shoulders, hands getting lost in his soft hair. While Cedric held your waist gently in his hands. When you pulled away this time, you rested your heads together. "Maybe I should be jealous more often if this is my reward." Cedric laughed softly before hugging you one last time and sending you to sleep.

~~FIN~~

-------BONUS------

*peering around some barrels in the kitchens, watching you two have your sweet moment."

Elaine: You both owe me 20 galleons.

George: This is ghastly, but I can't believe he turned Cho down. She is like THE it, girl, right now. She even turned down Harry.

Fred: You are mad he turned Cho down. I am angry that I owe Angela a week of butter beers cause he rejected Cho and confessed to Y/N all on the same night. I swear that woman is a mind reader.

Elaine: Both of you are horrible...I love it. Alright, now to prank Filtch.

(Thank you all so much for reading. This is my first official story back into writing. I am sorry if it is choppy or odd. I am getting back into the rhythm of things. I hope this is good enough to showcase the beginning of my writing journey!)

[axelsagewrites]

Sansa Stark*Surprise Visit

Pairing: sansa x reader

Word count: 924

Warnings: long distance

Masterlist Here

everyone told you that long distance would never work but you refused to listen. You and Sansa had started going out in your last year of high school and it wasn’t until your college acceptance letters started coming in you realised how far away you would be. There was no way though that either of you were willing to not go to your dream schools, so you decided to make it work.

Sure, it’s been hard not being able to see her every day like before, but it means the once a month you do get to see her you savour it even more. However, there was one slight problem: Valentine’s day. Aka also your anniversary.

Sansa was majorly into valentines and anything cutesy so last year you used it as a perfect opportunity to ask her out but this year you had an exam on valentines. You honestly wondered if your miserable professor only did this to ruin everyone’s plans. Sansa told you she understood but you could hear the sadness over the phone when you told her last month.

You were going to visit her the weekend after valentines though so at least it wasn’t a total lost cause. On Tuesday you spent all night studying for the exam and on Wednesday morning aka Valentine’s day you didn’t even realise how little you’d actually spoken to your girlfriend. Of course, you’d sent her a happy anniversary message at midnight, but your mind was stuck on this dumb test.

-

When the exam let out everyone was groaning or praying for their deaths. Or the death of Ramsay who kept saying how easy it had been. You hated him honestly but right now all you wanted was to get back to your dorm to face time your girlfriend.

You waved your friends goodbye and headed to your room. However, when you opened the door, you thought you might cry.

“Surprise!” Sansa squealed, jumping off the bed and barrelling into your arms.

“Oh my god, babe!” You said, eyes wide in awe as you wrapped her in a hug while taking in the room.

She had filled it with heart shape ballons, confetti, diy wall hangings, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the fake rose petals on the bed and floor. “You never told me you were coming,” you said, pulling back to see her grinning face.

“Then it wouldn’t be a surprise,” she teased, leaning in for a kiss you wish lasted much longer until she pulled away and led you by your hand to the bed, “Look what I got you,” she said, sitting on the bed and patting the spot beside her.

You laughed at her antics as you sat down and then she pulled out the biggest gift bag you’d seen. It was pink and glittery and covered in hearts. “Open, open,” she said, bouncing up and down as she shoved it in your hands.

“Baby,” you gasped as you began pulling out the trinkets. It ranged from a bag of Hershey kisses to valentines’ chocolates to pink scrunchies and pink hair clips and basically everything pink or heart shaped.

You were practically gushing when you found the jar of reasons she loved you, all handwritten with her perfect loopy handwriting. “This is so amazing thank you so much,” you said, reaching forward to pull her into the tightest hug you could. You sighed when you pulled away, “I got you something, but I didn’t have time to wrap it,”

“That’s okay,” she said, excitement still clear on her face as you fished it out your bedside drawer. “Wait what is it?” she said as she took the first thing out your hand.

“Its your favourite book except,” you said, reaching out to open it, “I actually read it and annotated it. it killed me but I know you like doing it,”

“Aww this is amazing,” she grinned, flipping through the pages. “Is that for me too?” she asked shyly when she saw the box in your hands.

You laughed at her antics and quickly passed it over, “If you don’t like it, I kept the receipt,”

However, when she opened it, you saw her heart melting in her eyes, “I freaking love it omg,” she said, pulling out the small gold heart shaped locket. Yes, you knew heart shaped jewellery was a total cliché, but Sansa was a sucker for a cliché, “Put it on me?”

“Of course,” you grinned, moving to gently clasp it around her neck, “There, perfect,” you said, kissing the top of her head. “There’s a picture of us in it,”

“I love it,” she grinned, holding it in her hand and opening it to see a photo of you from valentines day last year, “Ill never take it off,”

You couldn’t help but giggle at her cuteness, “I wish you told me you were coming; I had our whole time planned out,” you pouted.

“Yeah, like what?”

“Well, I was going to set up a bunch of chick flicks and get an unholy amount of heart shaped candies,” you said, and you could practically see Sansa vibrating in excitement at the idea, “And I was even going to make chocolate strawberries,”

You could see the clogs turning in her brain, “Isn’t there a target 10 minutes from here?” she eventually asked with a shy smile.

“Target date?” you laughed but Sansa was already up putting her shoes on. “Your adorable,” you giggled as you grabbed your car keys.

“Not as much as you,”

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[little-peril-stories]

The Queen of Lies: Faith and Freedom

Story Intro | Contents [Warnings] | Mood Board | Vibey Song Lyrics | Ao3

Contents: blood, injury, illness, guy whump [all just leftover stuff from the last few chapters :) no new bad stuff]

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Word count: 3650 || Approx reading time: 15 mins

Faith and Freedom

Teaser: “Just give me a minute,” he said, grunting and coughing as he sat up. After a moment, he drew up his knees and rested his forehead there. “Feels like I’m dying.”

The world beyond the prison walls was cloaked in shadow, with thick cloud cover blocking out the stars, leaving only the yellow gas street lamps to illuminate a city that had mostly gone to sleep. Two frantic figures, a boy and a girl—a thief, a prisoner who had been set free, and his rescuer, who had spent four long year being Baden Hatchett’s wife and who no longer knew what she was—stumbled through the streets. He did not speak, nor did she; rather, they fled in silence, letting their ceaseless, hurried footfalls break the peace of the autumn midnight. It was not long, however, before the boy’s strength waned, his steps growing unsteady and his breathing more laboured.

The hand that was still clutched in the girl’s went slack.

And the thief fell.

Fear spread through her, so strong it sent numbness to her toes and fingertips, as the boy hit the ground. “No!” Dropping to her knees, shaking his shoulder as gently and urgently as she could, she breathed, “Please, please, no, no, no, wake up, wake up—”

He groaned, blinking open eyes that in the gloom appeared a much darker hue than the gold-and-green colour she knew them to be. “What?”

She almost collapsed to the cobblestone, too, but not with exhaustion; rather, it was with relief that she’d been able to rouse him. “You…you scared me.”

He glanced around, seeming to perceive that he was on the ground and woozy. With a soft groan, he took a deep breath and let his head fall back against the stone. “Fuck. Just…”

The girl swallowed. “I’m scared you’re…” She wanted to say, too weak to keep going, but how would he react to those words? If she’d ever said such a thing to Baden, he would have slapped her hard enough to leave a bruise for a week.

“Just give me a minute,” he said, grunting and coughing as he sat up. After a moment, he drew up his knees and rested his forehead there. “Feels like I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying.” He couldn’t be; she wouldn’t allow it, not after everything she’d gone through to get him out of that awful prison cell. She glanced around, wishing it weren’t so dark. It had been a blessing as they crept from the prison grounds, but now it served only to make the towering houses and unlit storefronts seem dingy and menacing. “We need to get somewhere safe. It’s only going to get colder, and you need to eat. And drink. And rest.”

“What?” he said, half-heartedly mocking. “Can’t I stay at your house?”

She clenched her jaw and refused to take the bait. It was too cold, and she was kneeling in a puddle, and the wind was picking up into a sinister sort of howl, and she was too frightened to chase down whether the teasing was good-natured or not. “I’ve got an inn room booked, but we need to make it there.”

The secret note for Alice, hidden in the returned copy of The Scarlet Letter—tucked into the last marked page and written in the tiniest hand she could form: As I am unwell and cannot make the arrangements myself, could you please visit the Whitemoor Inn and book a room for my cousin, Lucy Cooper, for one night? I’ve enclosed enough funds to cover her stay.

One night for a young woman named Lucy Cooper to fleetingly exist, and come morning, she would dissolve into the ether, gone forever—as would the girl and the boy who’d occupied her room.

“A room booked?” he repeated, holding his head now. “You—you actually got some kind of plan? Seriously?” His eyes were still hazy with pain, but he was alert, and his gaze had gone wide. “You got money?”

“Yes,” she said, “I do.” She’d had one chance, one, between Baden letting her out of her room and him taking her to the prison to beg for forgiveness—one fleeting blissful moment when no one’s eyes had been on her. She’d taken as much money as she could from the safe in his study, the one he thought she didn’t know about.

That wasn’t all, though. In her coat pocket, sewn into the lining, there hid as much jewelry as she’d dared to take from the box on her dresser—enough to pawn for extra funds, not so much that it would weigh down her clothes or jingle as she walked.

Finally, there was the second half of her entreaty to Alice: if her friend had come through for her and done as she asked, a parcel waited for “Lucy Cooper” at the inn, containing a necklace and a ring, all she could reasonably and surreptitiously fit into Alice’s book. They would fetch a good price somewhere. Of course, the girl had no way of knowing if Alice had acquiesced, but she’d picked that friend over the other for a reason. Marguerite would never have gotten involved, but Alice was sensible and kind, and she knew—she knew. So surely, surely, she’d made the arrangements.

As long as that was true, and as long as the innkeeper didn’t turn them away at the sight of her companion, they would have somewhere warm and safe to sleep for the night.

If only the thief didn’t look like he had just stumbled out of a street brawl.

“Do you think you can keep going?” Her voice slipped out high-pitched and breathy. Too many worries, too few answers to soothe them.

He fixed her with a look of pained, miserable resignation. “Gonna have to.”

She pressed a hand to his face again. Despite the chill of the night, it was still hot. “I’m scared...” She couldn’t finish her thought.

The thief groaned again as he got cautiously to his feet—not pulling away when she held his good arm to steady him—and said, “Scared? Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

For a moment, she didn’t even know what to say. Her eyes roamed from his blood-flecked shirt to his black-and-blue skin to the entirely useless arm in Mrs. Bristow’s apron-sling.

They landed on his lips, which were ever so slightly quirked upwards.

“Well, good,” she finally managed. “If—if we are set upon by an army of kittens, I’m very glad you’ll be here to defend me.”

He choked out a laugh, coughed, and took a few wary steps, letting her cling to his arm; he wobbled slightly, but he stayed upright. “Lead the way, princess.”

She was going to have to do something about the name problem.

As they moved through the winding streets, she stuck close to him, partially because she feared he would pass out again, but also because she had never wandered the city at night before, by herself or with anyone else, and the warm presence of his body—beaten and worn-out though it was—gave her a peculiar sense of security. She knew it was probably false.

Still, she clung to it anyway.

“What am I to call you?” she dared to ask after a while. Although she was, indeed, desperate for an answer, she also worried that if she remained too quiet, he’d slip back into unconsciousness. “Am I allowed to know now?”

“Don’t get all uppity about that,” he mumbled. “Can you blame me for being suspicious?”

No, she thought, but she didn’t say it. She merely pointed the way down a nearby street. Almost there. They had to be almost there. “That’s not an answer.”

It was a long while, it seemed, of something happening behind his eyes that she could not decipher, some tug-of-war between giving a real answer and not until he at last told her, “I don’t have a name.”

Another lie, of course; he had a name, but he didn’t trust her with it. What a surprise. Why should he? All she had done was give up her entire life and risk everything to break him out of prison. “Please.”

He bit his lip and again took a long time to answer. “I…I can’t.” His gaze flitted around, as if he expected someone to burst out of the dark and streak towards them. As if he feared they were being followed.

Why should her chest feel so tight? He came from a life of crime—of course he was perpetually suspicious. Surely, he had to be. It had been foolish to hope for he might give a straight answer. “Something. Anything.”

After a moment, after a third agonizingly long pause, he said, “Fox.”

“Fox?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

A phrase she’d heard the day Baden found her in his cell drifted back to mind. “Fox-thief…”

He stiffened. Yanked his hand from her grasp. “Don’t—don’t. Don’t call me that. Please.”

“All right,” she said, horrified. “I won’t.”

When silence fell again, she didn’t chase it away.

He stumbled once more, dropping to his knees but staying conscious, and when she pulled him up, her tears blurred her vision enough that it obscured the strain in his features and the violent shaking of his limbs.

Finally, when the inn loomed before them, she pointed at its dimly lit door. “This one.”

“This one,” he repeated. Voice weaker now, words slightly slurred. He was failing by the second, she realized, perhaps having depleted the frenetic, urgency-fuelled strength that had helped him run once Mrs. Bristow got them beyond the prison gate.

“Let me go in first,” she said. “I’ll settle up if I need to and come get you.” That, she supposed, was the best course of action. The innkeeper might not notice her bruises—but Fox? A superstitious person might take one glance and conclude that he had risen from the very pits of hell.

“Okay,” he said, bracing his good arm against the wall, and she turned on her heel and hurried inside.

The woman who presumably ran the inn was dozing, and no wonder; it was the middle of the night. Her eyes snapped open, however, at the sound of approaching footsteps.

“My name is Lucy Cooper,” said the girl whose name was not Lucy Cooper. “One Mrs. Wright made arrangements for my room a few days ago, I believe?” Too late, she remembered she was wearing trousers. “I—um—please excuse my appearance. I’ve been...um...I’ve been travelling.”

The woman peered down at a piece of paper in front of her, appearing merely drowsy and rather bored. “Just one night?”

Relieved that the woman either hadn’t noticed or did not care what she was wearing, the girl said firmly, “Yes. Only one.” Once Baden learned that she was missing, he would search for her, and at some point, he would speak to Alice, and Alice, not knowing what else to do, would lead him here.

He would find neither Breanna Hatchett nor Lucy Cooper in this inn.

Instead, the boy called Fox and the girl who was called—well, who was called something—would be long gone.

“You’re already settled up for the room.” The woman tapped a list of meals and their fees and turned it towards the girl. “You want to pay for food, too?”

“Yes. I would.” The answer rushed out. “Whatever you have now, if you please, and some breakfast, too, before we depart.”

The woman raised her eyebrows and glanced toward the grandfather clock behind her, which displayed an hour not typically associated with taking a meal. “Now?”

“Yes,” repeated the girl firmly.

The woman frowned. “We might have some broth still,” she said. “It won’t be hot anymore.”

“That’s all right.” She paused. One more inquiry before she paid. “Did Mrs. Wright leave a parcel for me, by any chance?”

With a sigh, the woman turned away to rummage somewhere behind her. After a few moments, she returned with a wrapped box, slightly crumpled but intact. “There you are, Miss Cooper.”

“Thank you.” The girl took it gratefully, promising silently that she would one day find a way to repay Alice for her kindness.

As the innkeeper took the money and filled out the rest of the paperwork, the girl tried to steady her breath, bracing herself against the new fears that rushed in. Never mind the fact that she was renting a room for herself and a strange, half-clothed, terribly battered man who bore only a false name and who was not her husband. Now she had to contend with bringing him inside without drawing attention. What if the woman took one look at his bloody skin and the tattoo on his arm, and threw them out?

“All finished up, Miss Cooper.” The woman handed her a key. It lay cold and heavy in her palm.

At first, she couldn’t find the man in question at all. It took a few moments to realize he had sat down on the ground, back against the wall, slumped and half-conscious.

“Fox,” she whispered, tapping his uninjured shoulder, eliciting a moan. “Wake up.”

His eyelids fluttered open. “Hmm?”

“We can go in now.” He groaned, and she tried again to rouse him. “Do you want to sleep out here in the cold?”

“Not really,” he mumbled, letting her help him to his feet. “I’m so fucking tired. Everything…everything hurts.”

“I know,” she said, her heart cracking open in her chest. “We’ve got our room. Let’s find it.”

In the narrow, lamplit corridor where she located their room, he leaned against the wall, waiting for her to finish struggling with the key in the lock. With his head resting on his good arm, as he breathed heavily from the climb up the stairs, he watched her, or seemed to, although his eyes kept drifting closed.

“Bed. Now,” she said, pointing toward it when they made it inside. His exhausted gaze swept the room, obviously counting.

“Just one. It’s for you,” he mumbled.

“Don’t be absurd.” She pulled him toward the lumpy-looking mattress with its yellowed sheets and woollen quilt. “You’re hurt and sick. Lie down.”

“You gonna sleep on…what? The floor?”

He really thought she would be able to sleep? After everything? “Never mind about me. Get yourself in that bed, now, before I throw you into it.” She resisted the urge to clap a hand to her mouth and backtrack as she realized she had practically shouted at him. “Uh—” Fox was staring at her with a wide-eyed expression she could not read. “I mean…please.”

He laughed. It was weak and riddled with coughs, but it was genuine, and relief swept over her like a warm wind, because…

Because if she’d ever ordered Baden around like that…and threatened him like that…no matter how empty the threat was…

“There should be a meal waiting downstairs,” she said. “I’ll go get it. You can rest, but you must at least drink. If you fall asleep, I’m going to wake you.”

Fox sat heavily on the bed. “You’re the boss, princess.”

By the door, she paused. Princess. The name was silly, and she got the feeling he wasn’t using it to be cruel, but her thoughts on the matter of her name had been boiling over since she gave the innkeeper her false one. The girl closed her eyes, imagining who she would have to be once the light of dawn broke. Someone courageous and clever, someone who faced her fears instead of burying them or running scared. Someone who was bold enough to grasp the life she wanted with both hands.

Hopes and memories flashed in her mind, bringing with them disembodied faces and disjointed pictures—flames, ink, books, blood, and a heavy sunrise filled with promise.

She let her eyes fly open, the answer to the question Who am I? coming to her in a sudden burst.

“You can keep calling me Bree,” she told him, and he raised his eyebrows. “I decided I like it after all. So that’s—that’s my name now. Bree. Bree Scarlett.”

Fox nodded slowly, his eyes on hers, repeating the name to himself, at first under his breath, then a touch louder, as strong as his weak and tattered voice would go. “Bree Scarlett. I…I like it, too.”

Cheeks suddenly blazing hot enough to be unintentionally—and newly—eponymous, Bree Scarlett hurried away, closing the door behind her. As she bounded down the stairs, tempted to take them two at a time like a giddy schoolgirl, she repeated her name to herself, and she found that the very taste of it on her tongue filled her soul with glee.

***

Defying her own prediction, Bree did fall asleep, the siren’s song of slumber suddenly irresistible the moment she let herself rest, and she awoke curled against the wall, which was where she settled after determining that the room’s wooden chair was even less comfortable than the floor. She startled awake with a gasp, trapped for a moment in the dizzying space between the waking and sleeping worlds, wondering where on earth she was and how she had gotten there.

She took one look around, and reality came crashing down: she had run away from her husband, set his prison on fire, and sprung a thief from jail.

Bree waited for the panic to set in, for the bone-breaking terror that, at any moment, Baden would burst through the door and tear her to shreds for her betrayal and her crimes.

It did not come.

Instead, she felt strangely calm, detached from the chaos she had wrought in her pursuit of freedom. Her eyes wandered over the room, with its wood-panelled walls, slightly uneven floors, and inarguably paltry sleeping spaces, trailing her gaze over the door and the window that by some miracle remained silent and unassailed by constables pounding and breaking through. It was a veritable marvel, how unafraid she felt.

As she looked around, her inspection paused upon the boy who called himself Fox.

He was still asleep, lying on his side, looking for all the world serene despite the blood still crusting his skin. Her throat tightened, horror creeping through the short-lived peace she’d just been enjoying as she took in the sorry sight of him again.

How many of those wicked bruises had been dealt by Baden himself?

She forced away the thought. There was little she could do right now about the guilt that stole through her and would not retreat; however, she had a new problem to contend with that she could solve. Fox had fallen asleep so quickly after she brought him water and the inn’s lukewarm broth that he hadn’t even gone under the wool quilt, and now he shivered in the chill of the night air.

Bree searched for something to keep him warm. Ah—there—her jacket, abandoned in a crumpled heap near the door.

How furious, she thought, her fatigue doubling as her husband invaded her thoughts again, Baden would be if he could see how carelessly and messily she’d flung aside her clothes. And how furious he would be if he knew how much she wished she could simply escape the thought of him for even a few minutes.

How furious he would be to see her pausing at the bedside of his foe, gently laying her own clothing over his body and tucking in the sides to keep him warm.

For a moment, it seemed as if her mission to blanket Fox’s shivering form without waking him had been a success, but as she turned away, his fingers curled around her wrist, the unexpected touch sending a jolt through every limb.

“Why?” His voice was rough, thick with sleep and whatever sickness ailed him. But the word was intelligible.

“You’re cold,” she said. “I could see you shivering.”

“No.” When she turned slowly back to him, his eyes were open. Bleary, yes, but he knew her. And he remembered what she had done for him. “Why. Are you. Doing this. Hel… Helping me?”

Good god, what was she supposed to say to that? What explanation was there?

“Because,” she said, failing to banish from her mind the image of him chained and on his knees, horrified at the sight of her for fear that it would bring him more agonizing pain, “you didn’t deserve what he did to you.”

He watched her, still shivering. “I…am. You know.”

“You are, what?”

“A criminal. A thief. In. In…IA.”

The cough that had been so quiet while he slept returned. Bree bit her lip, wondering what to say to quell his anxieties and allow him to rest. “Sleep more,” she said, deciding to ignore what he had mumbled—what he’d told her like she didn’t already know. “I’ll be here.”

“Bree.” He winced, overtaken by some phantom pain whose source she could not discern. “Bree. Don’t…”

He didn’t finish, and for a moment she thought he had fallen asleep mid-sentence. But his eyes were still on her when she looked back down. “I won’t leave.”

“No.” He closed his eyes. “Don’t fuck me over. Please.”

Even now, he feared she would betray him. Bree blinked back tears.

“You won’t, right?”

“I promise I won’t,” she whispered. Gently, she tried to pull her arm away, yet his fingers didn’t let go.

“Thank you,” he mumbled. So quiet, so indistinct, it was difficult to make out. “For saving me.”

Unable to bring herself to speak, and uncertainly unable to give the reply that came to mind, Bree swiped at her face with her free hand, her treacherous tears spilling over despite her efforts to hold them back.

She did not move until his fingers loosened and fell away—until the boy called Fox was asleep once more, perfectly still save for the rise and fall of his bruised, battered chest.

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