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fizzyapplecandy · 3 months ago

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Ateez as Romance Tropes

The one with the Mafia king's rose

Other members

Mafia king Hongjoong x Florist reader

Genres and warnings: mafia themes, heavy themes such as death, mentions of blood, minor character death, strangers to lovers, shy reader, falling in love, comfort, fluff, florist reader

Word count: 4.1k

Hongjoong's cruel world was about to collide with a woman so pure, she made his heart explode with joy. His dark past comes around the corner to do harm, but Hongjoong won't let anything happen to his little rose.

Hongjoong knew how cruel the world could be. He experienced it firsthand when his parents died, leaving him in the care of his uncle.

He didn't know it then, but in five years time, he would become one of the most feared leaders in the mafia world. His uncle was a strong willed man, albeit a bit easy when it came to women. Hongjoong watched as his uncle, his only rock, became so obsessed about an average accountant that he left his empire and fled to another country, just to live a normal life with her.

What a stupid man, Hongjoong thought at the time. He could have enjoyed the riches, people bowing to him out of respect, expensive cars and a plethora of beauties waiting to jump his bones. Instead, he was now an ordinary mechanic, drinking beer from his small front porch in a house somewhere along the coast of Italy.

What the fearless leader didn't know, was that he would soon wish to do the exact same, with a woman so special and unusual.

"Lisa, is the order for Mr. Jung ready? He'll be here in about ten minutes."

"Almost, just let me add a nice bow to the bouquet."

Y/N sighed, knowing how Lisa loved adding her finishing touches in the last minute. She couldn't complain, every customer adored their order, so she let the silly girl have her fun.

Running a florist shop was Y/N's childhood dream. After years of saving money, she got her little heaven with Lisa as an addition a month ago. She was a couple of years younger than Y/N, still in school, but she had a knack for arrangements.

"Lisa, honey, you can go now. I'll wait for Mr. Jung and close up."

The red haired teen came from the back room with a bouquet of white lilies, placing them on the counter.

"Are you sure? You know the street light doesn't work, they still haven't fixed it."

"I'm sure. My apartment is right around the corner, I'll manage."

They said their goodbyes and Y/N waited for her last customer of the day before starting to clean up. She changed the sign on the door to 'closed', but left the lights on inside. The lamppost outside flickered, but it still didn't turn on properly.

Just as she was about to grab her bag and head out, she heard the door opening. When she turned around, her breath got caught in her throat.

There stood a man in an expensive suit, his blonde locks combed neatly from his forehead. He looked like a model, but his stance was casual.

"Hi there. I saw you through the window, you don't mind helping out a man in need?"

She shook her head, almost hypnotized by his voice.

"H-Hi. I mean, we are closed, but if you are in need of a flowery emergency, I can make something happen."

Hongjoong chuckled, noticing how the woman checked him out. He knew he was handsome, but he had nothing on the lady in front of him. She was a true beauty, and for some reason, Hongjoong's heart started beating a little faster. He had to get it together, it's not like he hasn't seen beautiful women before.

"I would highly appreciate it. It doesn't have to be anything fancy."

Y/N nodded, going around her shop and showing him different types of flowers.

"What's the occasion?"

"The cemetery."

His curt answer made her freeze for a second. She turned to look at him, his expression now a little colder than before.

"Oh... Isn't it a bit late to go there now?"

"I was too caught up with... Work. I think my parents won't mind the time seeing as they are six feet under the ground."

Y/N didn't know what to say, thinking she would only make the situation even more awkward. It was clear that both of his parents were gone. She nodded, going over to the bucket of fresh white carnations. She took a good amount, cutting the stems and wrapping them in white paper. The man was watching her every move, and it made her feel a bit self conscious. When she was done, she handed the little bouquet to him.

"Here. Carnations are usually given to grieving families. They also represent Mother's day. Do you have a vase at the gravesite?"

He only shook his head, a bit touched by her effort. She could have picked up anything just to get him out faster, but she made sure the flowers had a meaning.

The lovely woman went behind her counter to retrieve a small vase, seemingly plastic, and handed it to Hongjoong.

"Make sure to put a bit of water in here so that the flowers can stay alive longer."

"I will. Thank you, Miss...?"

"Y/N. And you are?"

"Hongjoong." They looked into each other's eyes, not sure what was happening. The atmosphere in the room changed, and if Hongjoong's phone didn't ring, who knows how long they would have been at it.

"Hello? Ah yes Mingi, I got held up. I'm coming out in a second." He put the phone back in his pocket after ending the call, taking out his wallet.

"How much do I owe you? For the vase and the flowers."

Y/N shook her head, giving him a smile.

"It's on the house. I..." She sighed, her expression turning a bit sad.

"I also lost my parents, so I know the pain. I hope they are at peace."

For the first time in his life, Hongjoong was speechless. There she was, a woman who didn't know him or his background, doing a good deed just because she wanted to. The cruel mafia boss was surrounded with so much evil that he forgot what kindness felt like.

It was refreshing.

"Thank you, Y/N. I'm sorry for your loss as well. My mother... She would have loved these." He motioned to the flowers now sitting in the vase.

"No problem. It's getting late now, maybe you should..."

"Ah, yes. Sorry for barging in so late. Thank you, again. Enjoy the rest of your evening." The man nodded before turning around and exiting.

Hongjoong took out his phone, dialing Mingi's number.

"Yes, boss?"

"Mingi, I'll manage alone for tonight. Wait at the flower shop I just left and make sure the lady gets home safe. The street lights are off."

A couple of days went by since Hongjoong's last visit to Y/N's shop. Honestly, she was still thinking about him, and she hoped he would come back again. She felt like there was something between them, something that could be explored. Maybe he thought the same?

"Oh, don't be ridiculous!" She whispered to no one in particular. Lisa had the day off for volleyball practise, so Y/N was left to her own devices. The afternoon rush was over - people buying flowers for hospital visits, one lovely grandpa coming to get his granddaughter's birthday sunflowers, and husband's rushing home to surprise their wives with bouquets of red and pink roses.

Wouldn't that be lovely? Y/N never got any flowers from her previous boyfriend. Notice the singular noun, because she only had one. Relationships weren't her thing because she was too shy to try and meet someone new. However, she could imagine a certain blonde man giving her a dozen red roses after a romantic dinner. But that was just wishful thinking. He probably forgot about her already. He seemed like a busy man, his suit pressed and expensive, and by the sound of if he had a driver of some sort with him. She shrugged off her thoughts and focused on making another bouquet that would make a wife somewhere in town very happy once she receives it.

The day went by quickly, and she was preparing to close up. For some reason, of because of false hope, she didn't turn the sign on her door to 'closed' yet. Her back was turned when she heard someone come in. When she looked over her shoulder, there he was.

"Hello again. I promise I'm not coming so late on purpose."

She smiled at Hongjoong, now facing him fully. He noticed how her dress moved, exposing her smooth legs a bit more to his watchful eye.

"Hi! It's no big deal, you stil have about... Two minutes left."

"Well I better make them worthwhile, am I right?"

Somehow, she knew there was a hidden meaning behind his words, but she had yet to discover it.

"What can I do for you today, Hongjoong?"

"I need a bouquet, a fancy one. Something... Pink?"

You glanced down at your dress, seeing its baby pink checkered pattern.

"Got it. What's the occasion this time?"

Hongjoong smirked, looking right into her eyes.

"A date."

Her face fell, and she tried to get herself together. Of course he would have a date, he's gorgeous! What was she thinking imagining them together? His date was probably some rich chick, dressed in branded clothing and adorned with expensive jewellery.

Y/N cleared her throat, managing to get it together. Hongjoong noticed how her mood changed, and he felt amused by the situation.

"Oh. Yes, okay. Wait here, it might take a minute longer. Any preference on the flower?"

He shook his head. "You choose what's best."

Going over to the pink roses, you grabbed them along with some baby's breath to give it a softer vibe. The wrapping paper was in baby pink tones, and you added a nice bow to finish it off. It was a bouquet you'd love to receive yourself, and the girl he was about to take on a date should feel lucky.

"Here you go. Pink roses for admiration. I hope she likes them."

He took the flowers from your hands, and your fingers touched for a moment. It was a light graze, no longer than a second, but you both stopped and looked at each other. Hongjoong got himself together before you did, and cleared his throat.

"I think she will. She was great taste, I can tell you that. And pink looks good on her."

You told him the price, and he handed you his black card. You knew he had money, so it almost didn't surprise you. After finishing the transaction, you were ready to go home and wallow in self pity.

Hongjoong had other plans.

"So, Miss Y/N, what do you like more - Italian or French?"

"I'm sorry, what?" You asked, a bit confused.

"I personally like Italian more, but French pastries can't be beaten. I'll have to take you to Paris sometime, just for the whole experience."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

You watched as the man in front of you smiled, handing over the bouquet you made.

"Y/N, would you like to go on a date with me?"

You were shocked. Did he really just ask you out? He made it seem like he had plans with someone else, when all this time he wanted you?

"Hello? Earth to Y/N?"

"Oh, Hongjoong..."

He could almost feel the rejection burning his heart. Maybe he should have had a different approach? He thought this would be cute.

"Yes, I'd love to go on a date with you. You just surprised me, sorry."

The blush on your cheeks now matched with Hongjoong's, and the both of you chuckled.

"I swear I've seen this in a movies, it went so smoothly, unlike this. But really, the flowers are for you. You deserve them."

Taking the roses from his hands felt like a brand new experience for you. Having never gotten flowers before, it turned out to be a wonderful feeling.

Hongjoong waited for you outside, and you were soon in his expensive car driving towards a nice secluded restaurant. He wanted to have some privacy with you, and he also had to avoid certain parts of town where people knew who he was.

He didn't really think everything through, but he knew he wanted you. That was enough for now.

When you went inside to get seated, you were surprised at how homey the place felt. The staff knew Hongjoong, and they took you to a secluded booth for more privacy. Once you got your drinks, the conversation kept flowing naturally.

"So, Miss Y/N, what's your story?"

You took a sip of your white wine before answering.

"Well, as you know, my parents died when I was young. I was raised by my grandparents until I saved up enough money to move. Flowers were something my mom loved, and she always told me I had a green thumb. So, after a lot of dirty dishes and lunch rushes I experienced as a waitress, I opened up my little shop. It's not much, but it's my pride and joy."

Hongjoong nodded along as you told him about your life, your assistant Lisa, your wish to have a pet but your landlord not allowing it, and so on. He took in every word you said, trying to memorize the things you liked.

"What about you? You seem like a guy who has a much more interesting life than me."

Oh, you didn't know the half of it.

"After my parents died, I went to live with my uncle. We have a... Family business, so I took over when he moved away. I don't do much besides work, to be honest, but I love my job. It just gets a bit lonely sometimes."

You looked at him curiosly.

"Lonely? Don't you have colleagues?"

"I do, lots. But majority don't speak to me directly. I have my right hand man, Seonghwa, he takes care of the communication between all of us. If it weren't for him, I'd be a lost cause."

You nodded, sipping on your second glass of wine. You were a bit of a lightweight, so you had to be careful not to overdo it.

"What exactly do you do?"

Hongjoong went silent. You were confused for a second. You were just chatting about jobs, nothing major. Why would he stiffen up so suddenly?

"I do... Accounting."

"Accounting?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Mhm. A lot of accounting."

He changed the topic after that, not giving you a chance to question him further. You kind of got the message. Dinner went by smoothly, and you were in his car again making your way back home.

"I had a lovely time tonight, Hongjoong."

The man gave you a quick smile before focusing on the road again.

"Me too. I would love to do this again, and soon. I hope I'm not coming off too strongly, but I really like you Miss Y/N."

You blushed, looking down at the roses in your lap.

"Why do you keep calling me Miss Y/N?"

"I like how it sounds. Maybe I should start calling you something else, though. What do you say, rosie?"

The redness of your cheeks only got worse after that.

"I kind of... Like that better."

"Then it's settled."

He pulled up in front of your building too soon for your liking.

"I have to be honest with you, rosie."

You turned your head towards him, seeing his soft expression.

"Yes?"

"I really want to kiss you right now."

Silence followed his statement. You didn't know what to do. On one hand, you'd love to kiss the man, while on the other, you knew it would probably be too soon.

"I... We just met, and..."

"Hey, hey, I get it. I wasn't really expecting to do it now. Keep it in your mind, though, because I'm not a patient man when it comes to things I want, and I really want to have you, rosie."

Once you said your goodbyes you went to your apartment with flushed cheeks and your first bouquet. Hongjoong was something else, and you were looking forward to exploring what the connection you felt with him.

What you didn't know was that your little dream would be ruined the next evening.

"Okay Lisa, it's time to head out."

"But Y/N, you never let me stay and close up with you."

You looked at the teen sporting a new plaster over her brusied nose. Lisa loved volleyball, but the ball loved Lisa's face even more. The poor girl always had another injury after practice, but she was determined to keep going.

"That's because it's still light out, and I already told you the street lamp isn't working properly. I don't want you roaming around in the dark."

"Oh, but what about you?"

You smiled, arranging another order for tomorrow morning.

"I have a feeling I won't be going home alone tonight."

"Ah, yes. Your little mystery lover. Well, if that's the case, then I'll be off. Have fun, Miss Y/N."

You shooed her away, giggling along with her before going back to the counter. You didn't really know if Hongjoong would stop by, but you had a feeling he would.

Another hour passed before you went around the shop cleaning up and preparing to leave. Your back was turned when the door opened.

"Now, you said you wouldn't come by after clo-"

"So, you're the boss' new toy? He sure knows how to pick 'em!"

You turned around, shocked to find another man there instead of Hongjoong. He was tall and buff, but what caught your attention the most was the gun in his left hand. A gun pointed right at you.

"Say, do you think he'd be angry if I borrowed you? Only for tonight, I'll make your exit quick afterwards."

"Please, I don't know what your talking about. Here, take all you need from the register, my wallet is in my purse."

The gruff man stepped closer, shaking his head.

"I don't want your money, I want your blood."

Your hands were now in the air, your body trembling with fear.

"Please... I didn't do anything."

"Oh, maybe you didn't sweetie, but the little king did."

King? Why would he call him a king. Before you could dwell about it some more, the man started talking again.

"You see, Hongjoong owes me. You know how they say, and eye for an eye. Killing my brother was a mistake, and now I've come to get revenge. The mafia world is too cruel sometimes."

The blood in your veins froze, your heart beating rapidly. You were about to plead some more with him, not knowing anything about the mafia he was going on about. What in the world did Hongjoong do?

Luckily, the door opened again, and there was the man of the hour, also holding a gun in his hand.

"Drop the weapon Chan, you know I'm a better shooter than you. You should ask Hansol."

At the mention of his brother, the gruff man turned his head in Hongjoong's direction, but his hand was still outstretched in yours.

"Don't talk shit, boss. I have your little princess at aim. My finger is about to slip."

Before you knew what was happening, the man was on the ground, a hole right between his eyes.

"I hate traitors."

Hongjoong stepped over his body, going over to you. His face softened, noticing your trembling form. Your eyes were still locked on the body bleeding out on your shop's floor.

"Rosie, sweetie, look away. Come, we need to get you out of here."

"No! Don't touch me!" You swatted his hands away from you, but Hongjoong was persistent.

"Please, rosie, we need to go now. My men will clean everything up."

"Your men?! Who the hell are you?" You were now starting to panic, but Hongjoong managed to wrap his hands around you to keep you grounded.

"I'll explain everything once we get to my house. Please, you have to trust me."

You were to shaken up to notice how he was guiding you outside, hands still firmly planted around your waist.

"Mingi, take care of everything with Yeosang. I want the place spotless. You hear me?"

The two men standing outside nodded, and off they went.

Hongjoong somehow placed you in his car, making sure you were comfortable. The ride through the city was silent, your head hurting from the events replaying in it.

It was clear Hongjoong was involved in something dark. Something that made a random man come into your flower shop and try to... You couldn't even think about it.

"Y/N, we're here. Come, let's get you inside."

The mansion in front of you was lavish, to say the least. There were bodyguards all around the premises, with one of them waiting by the front door.

"The place is secured, boss. We've prepared a room for Miss Y/N."

"Thank you, San. You're free to go now. Make sure to keep me updated if you notice anything unusual. Chan was alone tonight, probably acting out of rage, but we should be careful."

"Of course, boss." The buff man nodded, walking away to give you and Hongjoong privacy.

He led you inside, the front room looking like it came from an expensive movie set. Everything was decorated tastefully, with modern furniture and expensive paintings. The living room was no different, where you were currently sitting and holding a cup of warm tea. You still haven't said a word, and Hongjoong was getting concerned. He knelt down in front of you, placing a blanket around your shoulders.

"Rosie, I know you're confused, and probably terrified, but you're safe here with me. You can ask me anything you want, and I'll answer truthfully."

"You're not an accountant, are you?"

The man chuckled, standing up and making himself comfortable next to you.

"No, I'm not. I'm a leader. This is my world Y/N."

You're voice trembled as you spoke. "You're in the... In the mafia?"

"Smart girl. Yes, that I am. I have my own empire, left to me by my father and uncle. We don't always do things such as what happened tonigh but your safety was my priority."

"You killed a man."

"That was about to kill you. It was an easy decision."

The anger you felt soon came up on the surface.

"But you didn't know him! Maybe he had a family as well? Why would you do that?"

"Do you know what him and his brother did, Y/N? They traded girls around brothels for easy money. Sometimes they beat them until they passed out. They took one of our workers and almost killed her. They deserved what was coming for them."

You went silent after that.

"Y/N, I know this is too much to take in at once, but you've got to listen to me. I like you, hell, I'm falling for you so quickly it's insane. When I saw the gun pointed at you, I snapped. I couldn't let you be in danger a second longer. You still owe me a kiss, don't you remember?"

A small smile appeared on your face.

"Owe? I don't know about that."

"Okay, call it how you want, but I want to kiss you. Everyday, all the time."

You looked at Hongjoong, seeing how intense his gaze on you was. The man seemed smitten, and you never had someone admire you like this.

"What do we do now?" You asked.

"Now? Now, you're mine. You get to be my queen. You'll never have to worry about a thing, my rose."

"But... My shop? I still want to work at my shop!"

"Hey, hey, that's okay. You can do whatever you want, I won't meddle in that. I just want you to know that you don't have to worry about anything else anymore. I'm going to take care of you, for however long you let me. Do you feel the same as me? Tell me you do, I won't survive the heartbreak."

He fell against the couch, closing his eyes and placing a hand over his chest.

Without much thought, you leaned over and placed a light kiss on his cheek. Hongjoong's eyes opened, and he stared at you with so much adoration, you felt shy.

"You... Oh, my rose."

"We need to take things slow, Hongjoong."

"Absolutely, no problem. As slow as you want. But not too slow, please, or I won't make it."

Again, he pretended to faint against the couch, hoping you'd place your lips on him again. Instead, you pinched his cheek.

"Ow!"

"Don't be dramatic, sweetie."

The two of you laughed before you settled against his chest. The fireplace was crackling, the tea in your hand going a bit cold, but you still took sips. Hongjoong's hand was going through your locks, and his breathing made you calm.

Somehow, you found yourself in the embrace of a mafia king, but it didn't matter. He was still Hongjoong.

Dramatic, over the top, but lovely Hongjoong.

You could get used to it.

#ateez #ateez imagines #imagine #ateez fanfic #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #florist reader #mafia ateez #mafia king Hongjoong #tw for blood #mature language #death mention tw #happy ending #angst #fluff #strangers to lovers

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lavandiors · 1 year ago

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( 📁 twenty minutes. by lee haechan ＿ ⭐ O1O1 )

where haechan finds you in the practice room and can't help but want you all to himself.

𓍯 . ݁ ✦ ݁ . ─── pairing. lee haechan x idol!reader. genre. fluff, established relationship and lots of cuddles. warnings. a little hint, but nothing more.

lily notes. the truth is i had this idea for a long time (really a long time) but i didn't know how to write it, so recently i was able to achieve it. please leave a request if you want. <3

when you told haechan that your practice hadn't even started, it didn't take long for him to appear at the door of the rehearsal room.

you were stretching as you waited for your members to arrive, and seeing your boyfriend walk through the door was the last thing you expected to see.

you watched him open the door through the giant mirror in front of you, quickly turning in his direction as he closed the door behind him.

"hyuckie?" you asked confused, haechan dropped his backpack next to the door and walked towards you.

he walked calmly with his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, a smile on his face at the sight of you. completely alone for him. and yes, you had seen each other less than two hours ago since you always sat together in the cafeteria, but you were so necessary to him.

two hours were torture for him.

he wanted to have you twenty-four hours a day. in his arms, snuggled against each other. allowing him to kiss every little corner of your body.

and now you were here. in front of him, with one of your dance pants and a shirt of his.

"hi baby" he greeted you, wrapping his arms around your waist like gum around a shoe.

he didn't even give you time to think when he already had his face buried in your neck and lifted you into the air. you laughed loudly when you felt him peck your neck with his lips.

"baby!" you let out that giggle that he loved so much. he took you to the couch where he dropped you, positioning himself over you afterwards.

you felt him settle between your legs as his breath hit your neck and his hands were firmer on your waist. he had missed you and you knew it, because he always did.

you dropped your hands into his dark curly hair, stroking it and tangling your fingers through it. he blew out warm air. “i missed you so, so much,” he said, his voice calm.

your throat let out a sound of approval. “i know, my love. i missed you too.”

"i'm glad to hear that," he replied, kissing your neck, shoulder, and collarbone.

his kisses were soft and full of love. demonstrating everything he had saved. and it was not necessary to have it stored when you were there. in his arms. just the way he wanted you.

he left his space on your neck, allowing you to feel the cold that hit his warm space. his face rose in front of yours, looking deeply into you from his dark, sleepy eyes.

"why was my girl alone?" he asked, bringing his lips to your eyelids, leaving kiss after kiss on your beautiful eyes.

they were your window to show your feelings. it was what haechan adored the most.

“the girls will be here in twenty minutes” you whispered, trying not to get carried away by his affection. but you were melting under his lips. it was an impossible mission.

he growled, placing one last kiss on your right eye, “twenty minutes with you isn’t enough” haechan had that ability to turn into a baby whenever he wanted.

he tightened his grip on your waist, letting his forehead fall against yours.

"i know baby, but after practice you can keep me all night" you left a kiss on his pout. he nodded slightly.

his pout turned into a smile "i have a few ideas" he whispered against your lips, you smiled out of inertia "i would like to know about them"

haechan laughed “my dirty girl” he said before capturing your lips in a deep kiss. the kiss wasn't even a needy or dirty one after that complement. it was as sweet and slow as a song from the medieval years.

slowly, it was his lips on yours. soft, it was your hands on his cheeks and his on your waist and stomach. sweet, it was his tongue against yours, not in a battle, in a pious dance where you demonstrated your love for the other.

"i love you so much, that i feel like i could die right now," he whispered into the kiss, deepening it even more. his teeth found your bottom lip, biting it lightly but repeatedly. he drove you crazy, but sweetened.

you brought your hands to the back of his neck to press your lips more against yours. "i love you too, too much" you couldn't say more, because haechan had already lifted you from your back to leave you on his lap.

he caressed the curve of your waist, the one that connected with your butt, and squeezed gently as his eyes penetrated yours.

his messy hair was tangled in front of his eyes, his lips were red from that kiss and his admiring eyes before you were a waste

“you are my angel, only mine” he whispered, bringing his face closer to your shoulder “only” he kissed your jaw “mine” he kissed your lips, tightening his grip on your waist.

you melted, and he felt it, you dropped your weight onto his lap and your legs lost that stability. that force that only he made you lose or make you win.

your hands settled on the back of his neck again, as you let him kiss you even more. when you separated, the thread of saliva continued connecting them.

how your eyes connected with his. how his heart connected yours.

it was your turn to let your head fall into his neck, settling in and grinding your chest against his. his arms wrapped around your waist completely, sliding his hands under your shirt.

a protective grip, while letting his head rest on your shoulder. rubbing his jaw there in search of leaving a mark that you were his alone.

"never stop being who you are" you whispered in his ear "because i love every part of you"

haechan kissed your shoulder and neck. you could feel his quality smile on your neck and his slow, soft caresses on your back.

"and you never stop being my girl," he whispered, "because i love that you are."

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burningcheese-merchant · 1 month ago

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Have you ever thought of any other fankids for your BxA pairings? Paneer and Jackie are so cute! :D

Awww thank you ❤️ here's a little doodle of them as babbies just for you. Jack's hair was kinda shaggy as a little kid lol. But he's getting better at holding his baby sister, see?

I've thought about other Beast x Ancient fankid, yeah. But to be honest, I can't really see the other pairs with kids. To elaborate:

Dark Cacao is already a father, and his son is already an adult, at that. I think he's had his fill of raising kids by now (especially because he already didn't do the best job with Dark Choco. He'd probably worry he'd fuck up the next kid, too). I can't really see Mystic Flour wanting children, whether that be because she doesn't see the point or because she, too, fears that she would fail as a parent. It's easier/more suitable for Flour to accept Dark Choco as a son and for him to accept her as a mother figure imo. Best of both worlds: you can have a kid, and the kid is already grown so they don't need raising lol

Same deal with Hollyberry tbh. She's already a mother, she's already had her time in that world. Her son is a man with his own life and accomplishments; her job is done and she wants to relax now. Now that there's a heavy implication that Eternal Sugar is fond of children (and perhaps even wanted to be a mother herself), I think... she would've wanted to have a child with Hollyberry, and would be kind of sad that Holly doesn't agree. But she would make peace with it. It helps a lot that Pepper Jack and Matar Paneer are around, honestly; she loves being an auntie. They both do. And that's enough for them

Shadow Milk and Pure Vanilla... That one's tough. I don't think Shadow Milk would be a good father tbh. He's already a deadbeat to Black Sapphire and Candy Apple, you know? Lol. Pure Vanilla is the opposite, he adores children and is great with them. I can see him wanting one with Shadow Milk; worrying it wouldn't go well, but wanting it nevertheless. The thought of having a happy family with his other half is an enticing one, even more so seeing their friends have one of their own. But it's a "two 'yes's" thing and Shadow Milk keeps saying no... It's the HollySugar dilemma but in reverse lol. The Ancient wants a kid but the Beast doesn't

Silent Salt and White Lily are the closest ones to that ideal imo. It's something Silent Salt sometimes dares to daydream about, even. But they're both so afraid, so nervous... They already think so little of themselves in general. They'd probably assume they'd be the worst parents ever. (They'd do just fine lol.) For now, they're content being Auntie Lily and Uncle Salt. But maybe someday...

... All of that just to turn around and say I thought of some kids anyway 😂😂😂😂😂 I'm a silly guy

MysticCacao kid would be Choco Tart

HollySugar/EternalBerry kids would be two daughters, Belladonna and Yew Berry

ShadowVanilla kid would be a son named Vanilla Cream

SilentLily kids would be a son named Fleur de Sel and a daughter named Salt Spray Rose (or Rugosa Rose, haven't decided yet)

None of them would be canon though, save for the last two 😅 but you're all welcome to ask about them anyway, if you're curious for some reason. (Otherwise I encourage you to go look at some other ShadowVanilla kids because they're actually very cool. @/justn0t has Panna Cotta Cookie and @/verystrangebun has Gold-Flecked Cookie, those two are my favorites)

#the MysticCacao one was so tough bc you can make practically anything with chocolate and flour #i thought of a kid named Choco Mochi but immediately felt weird bc mochi is Japanese and neither of the parents are Japanese lol #Dark Cacao is supposed to be Korean and Mystic Flour is supposed to be Chinese #if you know anything about history. giving a Japanese-inspired kid to a Korean guy+Chinese lady would be in VERY poor taste lmao #so yeah. Choco Tart. Gender not determined but leaning towards “son”#special thank you to the anon that suggested fleur de sel to me as a potential SilentLily kid! if you're seeing this you're the best #I'll shout you out again whenever I draw him :P him and Salt Spray Rose shall be getting designs in the future for sure #Belladonna and Yew Berry too maybe. i like them #cookie run kingdom #burningcheese #goldenspice #shadowvanilla #pureshadow #hollysugar #eternalberry #mysticcacao #silentlily #pepper jack cookie #matar paneer cookie #“ask abt the other fankids” when the ask box is closed 💔💔💔 maybe I'll open it again for that idk #been thinking of things for the SilentLily and EternalBerry kids #otherwise you'll have to ask stuff in replies to this post RIP

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cafeoa · 4 days ago

Text

You’re the mutt in the light - an angel in the night

sorry I couldn't save you I tried and I tried but you were like forest fire on forest fire til you snuffed yourself out Dick Grayson x fem!Reader | pt 1 | next... word count: 2.2K warnings: implied sexual work (nothing explicit), one use of the word whore notes: I'm working on a part 2 & 3 to this, but pt 3 is a fuse bc i'm stuck between two different endings. Yummm to let characters be happy or be consumed by themselves.

"Hey," he says, but it already sounds like goodbye.

You're smiling, lips curving and moving to clutch on to his hand as if not holding it will set the sidewalk on fire. Dark and listless eyes with smudged eyeliner on your waterline, they don't smile back, and you greet him with alcohol in your breath, a taste you're certainly conscious of but exhale in full regard, as if calling him and telling him to stay far away all the same. "Hey yourself, handsome. Missed me already?" The quick blinking, the concealer under the eyes, the tightness in your expression. There's no touching of skin from underneath his suit, but it's a ghost of a grip. You're hardly there.

"I thought I was more subtle than that," Dick plays along.

"If subtlety is your game, then you're losing, Nightwing. I like my men forward and desperate." It's a lonely alleyway, deep in Bludhaven's streets, the flickering light of the lamppost hitting the corner of your face. Early November where it's still not cold enough to see your breath. Both of you let the lie settle like a bad comedy film.

Dick's fingers twitch to hover over your eyelids, shield them from the grazing light for a lapse of rest and faux sleep. You'd pull away, he knows, and he can think about reaching out but never will. So he laughs, instead. "Good thing I’ve already booked the florists. I’ll have a field of daffodils on your porch by morning."

And you spew more lies that you both pretend are real with the prettiest smile. "My favorite." Roses or lilies or sunflowers you'd tell him, but that's too much, a grain of sand, really — the forcing of a gap that's yours too smother and mute. When you curl your arms around his bicep, letting your head rest against his arm, you do it because you don't want to. He should be stepping back or pulling away but he doesn't and you're unsure what to make of it. If you're that inconsequential or if he's turned you inside out already. "Who you stalking this time?" you ask, nothing more to say.

"Anyone by the surname DeVore, been around lately?"

You drum your nails against him, fuzzy memories molding together. "Believe so. Last night, maybe." You’re glancing at him, at the white of his mask and imagining what color eyes are behind it. For fun, not interest. "Someone important?"

"No," Dick says. "Someone he knows."

"He met some blonde guy in a checkered tie,” you start, in that tone that’s all play. “Stripes too. Like a mime got into politics. Hey, Wing — promise me you’ll never dress like that. Pretty boys like you shouldn’t waste the potential."

Dick huffs, mouth corners lifting. "I'm pretty good at keeping up with trends."

"You sound like an old man."

"Listen," Dick interjects, caution underneath how he keeps his voice steady. "He comes by again, can you talk to him for me? Nothing dangerous. He just talks. Too much, hopefully." Then, adds, emphasizes. "Only if you're up for it."

He's like a little devil whispering in your ear. You want to get as far away from him as you can. You want to give him everything he wants. "Must be bad if you're dragging me into this," you murmur, you don't know why.

"Wouldn't be the first time," Dick says.

"This is more than me slipping you some gossip here and there."

"Yeah, I know. Sorry, I won't ask again."

Dick says it with a finality that twists your insides up with uncertainty. He means it, you think. You hope. "I'll do it. What do you need?"

"You can think about it, you know." He's seeing you again — that way that makes you want to wrap your arms around him and sink your face into his chest so he has nothing to read while something to keep his hands busy in the way you're used to with men.

Instead, you say, "Nah. I’ve never been good at saying no to a pretty face. Keeps things simple, doesn't it?" Then you're letting him go, turning away to smooth down your hair and scrape off clumped cigarette ash from your heels. You're not facing him as you talk, busying yourself with fixing the clothes that stick to your skin. "Come back tomorrow just before closing. The guy was talking to Ginger. Took a real liking to her 'cause it showed she's new. Young, too. Bet you he'll be back."

With a sincerity that reels itself into your lungs, Dick says, "Thank you. Really."

And you turn your back on him because of it, palm on the handle of the kitchen door of the bar. The alley is sweltering hot, now. Every passing car and siren not loud enough to drown out the bubble you're in. "Better be important. From what Ginger told me, he's not exactly the funny type, but we gotta laugh anyway."

"Hey, wait." Dick's hand shoots out to grab your wrist, but he stops, clenches his fingers around empty air and lets his arm fall. "What about you? How are you doing?"

You laugh. You make the corner of your eyes crinkle intentionally, like that'll throw him off; as if he’s not one of the world's best detective's, mentored by Gotham's Dark Knight. "Same as the last time you asked."

"Working all night again?"

You raise a brow. Then you're teasing him, playful, full of energy in the way he knows is just to get him off your back. "If I was?"

"Then I'd ask how much do you need to take the rest of the night off." But he knows he could pay you off tonight, and you'd be right back the next. No amount of money would fix the way you think this is it for you. Still, he tries. He'll keep trying. Because that's the point, isn't it?

"Tempting," you say, almost sing-song. "But, I'll pass. I'm done at one, but I'm keeping an eye on Ginger. She's still getting the hang of things, still learning how get guys drunk enough they forget she exists."

"You're a good friend."

You don't understand why that makes you feel like a bastard. "Not friends. She's...new. To this. Still fidgety."

Here, late at night, Dick sees it. A downturn of your eye. A simpering smile, into a frown. "If you need anything—"

The smile is back on your face. When Dick really looks, he can picture the little girl fighting it out in there. "Yeah, yeah. If I need someone punched, I’ll shine a flashlight in the sky. Later, Wing."

Next time Dick sees you, you're caked in blood at the back of a police car. The red and blue lights cleave through the washed out brick sides of the building, swallowing up the pavement. A crowd's outside the bar, sealed off by yellow barricade tape. Officers talk to patrons and guests, getting statements, holding back the curious neighbors and passerby's who crowd around with nothing more to do on a Wednesday night. Paramedics are hauling a stretcher with a white sheet over a body into the ambulance, one pitstop before the morgue.

"Detective, a run down?" Dicks raking the scene with his eyes, watching the forensics department enter the building, watching the witnesses, making note of every twitch on their faces, which ones seem calm or frazzled or on the brink of running. There's a redhead sobbing on another ambulance, blanket over her shoulders.

"Solved case, Nightwing. Scram outta 'ere," Detective Swan drawls, popping a tablet of Nicotine gum in his mouth.

Dick forces on a grin. "Never seen you so excited to have me here," he says. You're in the cop car, staring straight ahead. There's blood on your collar. On your cheek. Dick can't tell how much is yours. "You sound confident."

"Murder weapon on suspect. Matchin' prints. Suspect not denying." Detective Swan pops another tablet. His fingers tap against the gum case in the pocket of his faded coat, itching and prying it open then closing it again. "Most dammin' of all, witness saw the whole thing."

"Did it come with a nice bow and greeting card?" Dick's eyes are stuck on you in the cop car. You just keeping looking ahead. Don't even care about the knot in your hair. "Sounds almost comical."

Detective Swan shoots Dick a glance from the corner of his eye, rolling his stiff neck with a drawl. "That's what I was thinkin'. Too good to be true."

"What do you have so far? Conspiracy? Have you picked up on anyone who might have reason to frame the suspect?" Dick's crossing his arms and looking back at the bawling redhead. "What did looking into the main witness get you?"

And all Detective Swan does is chew his gum, tap his foot, and exhale. The red of the sirens drowns his face in shadow. "It's a closed case, Nightwing."

Now Dick is stepping in front of him, staring him down with his eyebrows furrowed tight enough for it to read over his mask. "You're going to ignore this? That's not justice, Detective."

"And this is Bludhaven," Detective Swan replies. "That word don't always apply 'ere."

"An innocent person will end up punished."

"She didn't deny anything. Bad way to look innocent."

"Then we have to figure out why."

"And if she didn't do it?” Detective Swan opens his gum case. “Worst thing that happens is a dead crony and a jailed whore."

Dick's jaw sets.

Detective Swan meets his eyes then, from behind the mask. Tired, slouched, red in the whites. "Not everythin' gotta be fixed. Sometimes, best thing for everyone is to just let it die."

Bludhaven PD thinks its information is safe only because Dick finds it more convenient to convince them of it than have them change things up each time he needs to steal data. He's reading over your case on his handheld the minute its logged and filed, mouthing the typed words under his breath, the blue of his screen making him squint. Each detail is placed in his head like a house of stone.

A gunshot went off in the bar. Police called. DeVore shot dead in a private room, bullets match the gun with your prints on it. A gun you were caught holding. Unregistered. No fight back from you, no excuses. "He was being rude," your first statement. Ginger the sole witness, incomprehensible. All tears and snot. Dick sees her picture and it's the girl in the ambulance, same small shoulders and slouched figure like the worlds eating her. DeVore was trying something, allegedly, from her account and yours. Wound up and drunk, then you pulled a gun. Case closed.

But that's not your gun. Dick remembers: the small metal revolver that could fit in your hand, the make of it. You had slipped it out of your purse, kept it concealed by your hip, standby on your side that time you were walking down the block home from the bar during Halloween, two men yelling behind you for passing off their coy flirting. A bold one reached for your arm, and the barrel was on his side, your smile all light and fluttery like a dare. Dick had made it in time. Wrapped his hand around your wrist and lowered it gently, the sight of him sending the two men scampering away like brittle alley cats. "I wasn't going to," you'd said, stashing the gun away. You were chuckling to yourself. "My aim's so bad, I'd probably missed."

A Smith & Wesson 442, 38 special caliber. Something cheap and easily concealed. Yet the murder weapon was a Sig Sauer P365 AXG Legion, added AXG Grip Module, custom gray frame finish. Semi-Auto, 9mm Luger caliber. One thousand-fiver hundred online, higher underground and unregistered.

Crime scene photos don't give much away. Blood splatter on the bedsheets; the gun fired down at him based on the pattern. Entry wound on the side of DeVore's head. Clean exit wound. Bruising on the sides below his ribs. The autopsy hasn't been performed yet, so Dick extrapolates what he can. They're botchy and pulsing with blood underneath the skin — blunt force trauma, is his best guess. No way you'd cause that with a punch. Yet there aren't any notes of other object used to attack except for the Sig Sauer. Either the forensics team is duller than should be acceptable, or they saw little reason to search further on a solved case. It makes his jaw clench. The city doesn't want to be saved, Barbara said once. It resurfaces in the back of Dick's mind, for a second, a moment where he doesn't know what else to think about.

You're on the news come morning. No break through story, no special segment. What shows across Dick's television is a three minute report with your mugshot that he catches over a cup of earl grey while mapping out underground firearm sellers on his kitchen island. It's you from the night before; hair smoothed out now, smudged eyeliner wiped away, shoulders straight and broad. Dick pauses, sets his mug down. Over your throat, like a blossoming necklace of thorns, strangulation marks raw and sickening.

His stomach convulses. His head is in his hands, eyes closed as the bile fizzes and settles like acid. That wasn't in the file, that wasn't in the file.

#cafeoa cafe con leche #you're a mutt in the light - an angel in the night #hrmm smth about two people recognizing the same wound in one another #but dealing with it in different ways that are incompatible #but they’re one of the few who understand #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x reader #dc comics #dc #dc comics x reader #dc imagine #nightwing x reader #dc x reader

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giveafike · 9 months ago

Note

in honour of bens bday u should do a fic where he gets a special bday present iykyk!?!😉😉

TLDR: You surprise Ben on his bday with his fave present ever (you)! DW for my soft girls, I'll be posting a SFW alphabet after this

Word count + info: 3.5k! Lwky way longer than smut I'd normally write, but it's for a special occassion (I had this up my sleeve for some time). Dialogue (sex talk,.).

Warnings + Content Ahead: NSFW - Minors DNI!! Sweet loving unprotected sex, hickeys, oral sex ... erm yeah!

Azzie Notes ✚: I wasn't gonna let u guys go hungry on a day like today! I also wasn't about to proofread and post a NSFW fic in public lmao, so sorry for the wait!! Also, ANON!!! they say great minds think alike, I was gonna surprise u guys for today w this since we're all so desperate rn, anyways, happy birthday to us!! (im so sad he didnt win today, I hope hes ok tho. I also he posts for his bday so I have new pics to drool over)

P.S this cake in the middle made me YELP laughing, I had to include it. I love Ben's barely visible moustache too, pls am i feral or... 🤭🤭 SEND REQUESTS!!

————————————————————————

Shanghai - B.T.S.

You had been planning this for weeks, months actually, sacrificing your time, saving up, and ensuring every detail was perfect for Ben’s 22nd birthday. It wasn’t just another day; it was his day, and you would make sure it was unforgettable.

Of course, he didn't take a break, not even on his birthday. So naturally, you found yourself flying into Shanghai the afternoon before his birthday. You packed last minute but you knew exactly what to do when you got there. His dad, Bryan, and his personal trainer had been in on the whole surprise from the get-go, helping ensure everything would go smoothly. They were kind enough to organise and send you a spare key to Ben's apartment so you could set up his surprise while he spent the early hours preparing and playing on the courts. Ben was already deep into his routine for the Rolex Masters, completely oblivious to your plan. They had arranged for you to sneak into Ben’s apartment while he was out, leaving you the whole morning to prepare for his surprise.

The morning of his birthday, after Ben left for training and his match, you got to work. You had one mission: make everything perfect before he returned. With the help of the chef and a few decorators, who arrived early to set up while you were out, the apartment was being transformed into a celebration space. They handled the food, decorations, and clean up so you could focus on the rest of the surprise.

You went straight from the apartment to the bustling streets of Shanghai, making sure to get everything in one sweep. First, you found a shop that sold the most beautiful silver chain, sleek, simple, and elegant. The links were subtly engraved with the coordinates of the place of your first date. It was a personal, thoughtful gift, something he could wear daily without it being too flashy.

Next, you picked up the balloons, large, metallic letters that spelt out “Happy 22nd Birthday Ben!,” as well as gorgeous bouquets of red roses and white lilies, his favourites, he loved how they smelt. As you walked through the shops, your heart raced. You smiled, imagining his reaction when he saw the apartment transformed, he didn't even know you were here.

Your final stop was a chic lingerie boutique. You browsed through delicate fabrics before choosing a stunning set of black lace lingerie, seductive and understated, the perfect surprise for later that evening. With everything in hand, you rushed back to the apartment, anticipation buzzing in your veins.

Once the chef and decorators finished setting up and left, you had the apartment to yourself. The balloons were floating in the living room, the roses perfectly arranged in tall vases strewn around. The air was filled with the scent of candles and the delicious meal waiting to be heated up later, roasted duck breast, truffle mashed potatoes, and a rich red wine reduction. The cake sat in the fridge, waiting for its moment to shine with the cheeky message iced on top: “Happy Birthday! I love you for you, but that D is an amazing bonus too”. You checked on it and giggled to yourself before you headed to get ready.

You took your time getting ready. First, you showered and did your hair in soft waves that tumbled down your back. Your makeup was flawless, subtle with a bold touch of a deep vampy lipstick. You slipped into the black lace lingerie, feeling a rush of excitement as the delicate fabric hugged your skin. You took your time admiring it on you, knowing it would only get seconds of appreciation before it's torn off. Over it, you put on the gown you had chosen for the evening, a long, sheen golden dress that was tied at the neck and shimmered as it draped down to your ankles. It was backless, elegant yet sensual, teasing the bra wire at the back and you couldn’t wait for Ben to see it.

With everything in place, you received the text from Bryan:

Ben’s on his way back. He’ll be there soon.

It was time.

You lit the candles around the apartment, their warm glow casting a flickering, romantic light across the room. Then you dimmed the overhead lights, giving the space an intimate ambience. You hopped up onto the kitchen island, tucking your feet under you, the golden dress pooled as you propped yourself up with the cake on your lap, carefully placing and lighting candles. The scent of flowers and the flicker of candlelight filled the air as you waited, your heart beating faster with every passing minute.

Ben’s footsteps grew louder as he approached the door, but your heartbeat drowned them out. You took a deep breath, adjusting your posture on the counter, the lit candles casting a soft glow over your golden gown. The cake on your lap, with its cheeky message, waited for his reaction.

The door clicked open, and Ben stepped inside, in his shorts and t-shirt, looking completely unprepared for what greeted him. His eyes scanned the room in a quick sweep, first the balloons and decorations all over, then the flowers, the candles, before landing on you. His jaw dropped, eyes wide in surprise as his bag fell to the floor with a thud.

“Happy Birthday!” you said, hopping off the counter and sauntering towards him, the cake held out for him to blow out the candles. The flickering flames illuminated his expression, pure, genuine shock.

“Holy-" he began, running a hand through his tousled hair. "You're here? In Shanghai?”

You grinned, holding up the cake just beneath his chin. “Surprise, baby.”

He walked over to you in slow strides, shock written all over, converting into a big smile. Ben holds your face, kissing your forehead tenderly before he glances from you to the cake, his smile growing. Then he read the message, written in smooth icing: Happy Birthday! I love you for you, but that D is an amazing bonus too.

Ben chuckled, shaking his head, his voice rich with amusement. “Of course you would write that.”

You winked. “Come on, make a wish, birthday boy. The candles are melting”.

He blew out the candles, his eyes never leaving yours, his intensity heightened by the dim lighting. The last flicker of the candles faded, leaving the two of you in a soft, romantic glow.

You set the cake on the island and looked up at him expectantly with a cheeky smile. “So? What did you wish for?”

Ben tilted his head, his gaze lingering on you for a long moment. “I’m not supposed to tell you, right?” His voice dropped lower as he leaned in, lips brushing your ear. “But if I’m honest, I already got my wish”.

Your cheeks flushed at the warmth in his voice as he planted a kiss on your ear to your cheek, and you laughed, brushing him off playfully. “Smooth, Shelton. Real smooth.”

You beckoned him to take a seat at the dinner table while you plated up dinner. Ben’s gaze followed you as you turned to grab the plates, his eyes catching the thin strap of your lacy bra that peeked out from the backless gown. “Wait a second,” he said, voice thick with admiration. “What are you hidin' under here?".

You smirked over your shoulder, sliding the plated food onto the table. “No spoilers! That's for later”

Ben bit his lip, shaking his head, but the playful gleam in his eye was undeniable.

Dinner was simple yet elegant, spent in perfect company and admiration. The conversation flowed as it always did, full of laughter and warmth. You listened as he recounted stories from his time in Shanghai, but you couldn’t ignore how his gaze kept drifting toward you, especially as he roamed over your face and down to the golden gown.

After the final bites of dinner, it was time for his gifts. You handed him a small box first, an elegant silver chain that he unwrapped carefully, his brow furrowing in curiosity. His fingers brushed over the subtle engraving on the links.

“These are coordinates,” he murmured, more to himself.

You nodded. “To where we had our first date.”

Ben’s expression softened immediately, his hand closing around the chain. “Oh, baby...” His voice was quiet, full of emotion as he thumbed over the engraving. He pulled it on, the silver glinting softly in the candlelight as it rested against his neck. “This is perfect. I love it.”

You smiled, watching him admire it before you handed him a few more small gifts, personal things you knew he’d love, tokens of your relationship like a small scrapbook of things you love about him with printed photos, some gifts from his friends back home, a Lego set. He found himself smiling, chuckling and soft with each gift. As the gifts came to a close, you stood up and made your way in front of Ben.

With a mischievous grin, you leaned closer, voice teasing. “But the best present is still to come.”

Ben raised an eyebrow, his grin widening as you knelt, turned around and swept your hair to the side, revealing the small tie at the nape of your neck that held your golden gown in place. “Want to unwrap your final present?”

His hands were on you in an instant, fingers brushing against your skin as he slowly undid the delicate knot. The gown loosened, slipping easily down your body, the soft fabric cascading to the floor in a golden pool around your feet.

Ben’s breath hitched as he took in the sight of you standing there in front of him in nothing but the black lace lingerie that had played in his mind all night. The candlelight only made you look all the more beautiful, feeling like he was entranced. His gaze travelled over your body, and his voice dropped to a rough whisper. “Jesus, baby…”

His hands gently grazed your bare skin as his eyes roamed over every inch of you. “You knew exactly what you were doing when you picked this out.”

“I know what my boyfriend likes,” you teased, holding his hands and bringing him to his feet. He stood close, his hands roaming the small of your back, your shoulders, your hips - anywhere he could feel your skin. Your height difference is now apparent as you look up at him through your lashes.“I’ve got his taste figured out by now.”

Ben grinned, his gaze darkening as his hand slid up to cradle your jaw. “You definitely do,” he whispered before pulling you into a kiss, deep, slow, and intoxicating. His lips were warm and soft against yours, the heat between you both intensifying with each passing second. The kiss deepened, his hands sliding down to your waist, pulling you closer as though he couldn't get enough of you.

You broke the kiss, breathless, your heart pounding as you looked up at him. “Come with me, just one more surprise,” you said softly, taking his hand and leading him toward the bedroom.

As you approached, the door swung open, revealing a scene that took Ben by surprise once again. The room was bathed in the warm glow of candles scattered across various surfaces, their flickering light casting soft shadows on the walls. Rose petals were strewn artfully over the bed, a trail of them leading from the door to where the plush bedding awaited. It was romantic, thoughtful, and completely personal, elevating the moment beyond any cliché.

Ben stood in the doorway for a moment, his hand still in yours, his gaze sweeping over the room. His breath caught, and he gave a quiet, amazed laugh. “I've never been so spoiled before, Y/N.”

You turned to him, your smile soft, the warmth of the moment settling around you both. “Only the best for you. Happy birthday, baby. I love you so much”.

He didn’t waste another second. In one smooth motion, Ben hauled you up into his arms, his lips capturing yours again in a kiss that felt even more intense than the last. There was something deeper in it now, filled with gratitude and love, not just desire. His hands roamed your body, appreciating every inch, as he brought you towards the bed. Your legs wrapped around his waist as you let him take the reign of the kiss, letting him enjoy feeling you up after so long. The feel of his lips, the way his fingers tangled in your hair as he kissed you like he couldn’t believe you were there, it made the whole night feel perfect. He tugged off his shorts and broke the kiss to take off his t-shirt.

He paused, holding your face as he looked down at you before he began to speak, chains dangling in your face, his voice husky against your skin. “You’ve made this the best birthday I’ve ever had. Thank you.”.

Your heart swelled at his words, and you smiled softly, holding his face and rubbing your thumb across his cheek. “And the night’s only just started. Let me take care of you tonight”. You winked as you gently pushed his shoulder down, putting you on top and letting him feel nothing but pure pleasure and love tonight. You straddled him as you undid your bra, tossing it to the side.

His breath hitched again, eyes trailing over you in admiration.

“God, you’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion and desire. His hands ran up your sides in a feathering feeling, before cupping your breasts, palming and tweaking your nipples.

"And you're amazing. I love you, Ben. I'm all yours" you purred as you swept your hair over to one side, placing your palms on his broad chest, lowering yourself down as you planted kisses along his jaw.

Your words made him exhale deeply, giving you just the motivation you needed. You made sure you were going to kiss every inch of Ben tonight, show him just how much you loved and adored him. You sucked on the soft spots you knew well by now, places that made him whimper and groan with pleasure, your favourite symphony. You nipped at his Adam's apple while he fondled your breasts, pinching, rolling and tugging at your nipples. The feeling made you moan against his throat, both of you enthralled in bliss. You trailed your mouth and tongue down kissing and suckling his shoulders and chest, leaving a trail of hickeys all over. You could hear the soft gasps escape his mouth as he held your body tight.

"Ben? Baby, keep your eyes on me, m'kay?" You purred as you made your way to his stomach, about to kiss down to his happy trail.

His eyes flitted open as he propped himself up to keep his eyes on you, never once breaking eye contact. You trailed down, right by his waistband as you danced around, teasing him. You could feel his hard length, desperate to be free, you could see the desperation in his eyes, his mouth agape, brows furrowed, and you could see your work marked all over him, leaving purple stains tainting his skin.

"Y/N...please" he whispered, his voice croaking.

You smiled, holding back a small laugh as you bit his waistband, dragging it down with your teeth as he lifted himself a bit to help you slide them off. You lowered yourself to the edge of the bed, on your knees, never once breaking eye contact.

Ben's erection sprang free, already hard and eager for your touch. You couldn't help but lick your lips at the sight, feeling a surge of desire course through you.

"Tell me what you want, birthday boy," you hummed, your breath hot against his skin as you placed your head on his thigh.

Ben's eyes were dark with lust as he looked down at you. "Your mouth," he groaned. "Please, baby".

Maintaining eye contact, you slowly kissed the tip, before licking a long stripe from base to tip. Ben let out a low groan, his hands fisting in the sheets. You swirled your tongue around the head before taking his head into your mouth.

Ben's eyes fluttered closed before snapping open again, remembering your request to keep watching. You began to bob your head, taking another inch with each pass. Your hand worked in tandem with your mouth, stroking what you couldn't fit.

"Fuck, baby," Ben panted, one hand moving to tangle in your hair, putting it up into a ponytail. "That feels so good."

You hummed in response, the vibrations making him buck against you. You did your very best to try to take as much of his girthy cock as possible, your eyes watering a bit as you did so. You felt so seductive at this moment, the wetness growing in your lacy thong as you worked your boyfriend as if he paid for this.

As you continued your ministrations, alternating between long, slow licks and deep, rhythmic sucking, Ben's breathing became more ragged. His grip tightened in your hair as he guided you up and down his length as he fought to keep his hips still. You could feel Ben getting close, his cock twitching in your mouth.

"Y/N," he groaned, tugging gently at your hair. "I'm gonna-"

You pulled off with a soft pop, looking up at him through your lashes. "Not yet, baby. I want you inside me".

Ben groaned in frustration, but his eyes were dark with anticipation as you crawled back up his body. You straddled his hips, the lace of your panties brushing against his sensitive skin. His hands roamed your body, caressing every curve and dip before finding your waist. When he reached the waistband of your lace panties, he pushed it to the side, placing his thumb on your clit, and applying pressure. You had worked yourself soaking wet during the whole evening, your arousal was apparent.

You gently hovered and aligned him up to your core, before gently taking him in. You slowly sank onto Ben's length, savouring the delicious stretch as he filled you completely.

You both let out a simultaneous moan of pleasure as you bottomed out, your hands braced on his chest for support. The feeling of him stretching and filling you was amazing, it never failed to make your eyes roll and you took a moment to adjust, savouring the sensation.

Ben's fingers dug into your hips, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

"God, you feel amazing," he breathed, voice husky with desire.

You began to move, rolling your hips in a slow, sensual rhythm. Ben met your movements, thrusting up into you with perfect synchronicity. The room filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, skin slapping, soft moans, low groans, and whispered endearments.

As the pace quickened, Ben sat up, wrapping one arm around your waist to pull you closer, deeper if even possible. His other hand tangled in your hair, guiding you into a deep, passionate kiss. You could feel the cool metal of his chains hitting against your breasts with every thrust and roll. His touch on your skin was reverent as if he couldn't believe you were real.

You whispered sweet “i-love-yous” and precious words of endearment, as you felt yourself coming close. He pressed his lips to your forehead, before pressing his forehead against yours, both of you heaving and moaning.

You could feel the tension building, the heat coiling low in your belly as you rode Ben with increasing urgency. Ben's hands roamed your back, tracing the curve of your spine as you rode him, your hips rolling in a sensual rhythm that had you both panting. His thrusts became more erratic, his breathing ragged against your neck as he buried his face there, peppering kisses and gentle bites along your sensitive skin.

"You’re so beautiful, Y/N, so perfect." Ben groaned, his voice strained. "I'm close, baby. So close."

You nodded, moaning, unable to form words as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm you. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, your body trembling with the effort to hold back your release. "Me too," you managed to gasp. "Together".

You could feel the familiar tension building within you, your movements becoming more urgent. Ben's hand slipped between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and circling it with practised ease.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged, his breath hot against your ear. "Let go for me".

The added stimulation was all it took to push you over the edge. Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, pleasure coursing through every nerve ending as you came, followed by Ben, who groaned, his face contorted as he felt himself fill you up. You cried out his name as waves of pleasure washed over you, your body trembling in his arms. Ben held you close, guiding you through your orgasm with gentle thrusts and whispered praise. You both stayed like that for some time before you climbed off him and collapsed on the bed.

“I hope you got everything you wanted, birthday boy” you gasped, catching your breath. Your legs still shook a bit and your body trembled as you lay there, looking up at your smiling boyfriend.

“You have no idea, I can’t wait to spend every birthday like this with you” he smiled, leaning down to peck kisses over your shoulder and neck.

"We'll celebrate like this every year, Ben. Happy birthday, my love" you hummed, pressing a kiss to his lips. With that, you both lay in each other’s arms whispering sweet adorations, happy to spend the next while by each other’s side.

#ben shelton #benshelton #ben shelton x reader

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yourlocallyneysimp · 2 years ago

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Hii can i request a Lyney x fem!reader where reader is a painter who also has low self esteem and isnt used to compliments (she gets flustered whenever she gets complimented)

Also the reader is very fond of flowers :3

Tysm in advance ^0^

A Perfect Portrait ♡

A/n: I finished this post a while ago, but Tumblr decided not to save all my progress. 🥲

"Is this your painting?"

Lyney pointed towards the canvas you were currently sitting in front of.

You didn't bother looking at him as you knew he was going to say the same thing that everyone else did when they saw art.

They'll go:

"You painted that?"

Or:

"Can you paint me next??"

It annoyed you a lot, especially since they weren't real compliments. You wanted someone to see the effort you put into your art for once.

You looked at the painting of different flowers, wondering what flower you could add next.

Lilacs, cherry blossoms, dandelions, the spider lily, you name it. They were all on there, but you felt like you could add one more thing.

But, what was it...?

Lyney smiled as he walked over to you and stood next to you, admiring the painting.

"Are you stuck on what you should add next?"

You only nodded. You were too deep in your thoughts to make conversation right now.

Lyney smiled at your concentration. He honestly wasn't offended at all by your lack in conversation. It just made him a lot more interested about what you're thinking.

Making a rose appear out of his hat, he carefully slid it in your hair, breaking out out of your trail of thought.

"What are you..-"

You felt the object in your hair.

"A flower..?"

"It's not just any flower m'lady. It's a rose."

Lyney lifted you're chin up slightly and moved his face closer to yours.

"Your painting is really beautiful, m'lady. But I must say, in my eyes, you're a perfect portrait."

Bonus:

You did the whole painting only in an hour, finishing it up with a giant rose in the middle.

But you didn't stop there.

You painted a whole portrait of roses and even drew Lyney in the center.

Why were you drawing someone? You never did that...

Who cares.

You gently touched the rose that still resided in your hair and your cheeks became flushed.

All you knew was that you developed a new feeling.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #lyney #lyney x reader

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snowywolf1005 · 10 months ago

Text

I decided to watch my old show, cause of new transformer movie.

But let start the story.

TRANSFORMERS PRIME X CHILD READER

I don't know what year took place, but I'll put 2010.

You're Jake, little sister.

You're 5 years old.

Love to draw.

You first saw the autobot team, optimus prime.

You hang out with them.

You don't have their guardian autobots.

So bumblebee and Raf take you home because you'll fall off when you're one jack ride.

You can't go on adventure with them cause you're too small.

You're kinda sad, like everyone forgot about you, even June, your mom doesn't let you go on adventure.

You thought you would be lonely.

But not in till, when your school decides to go on camp.

You think everyone will be happy cause you're so annoying.

Then you decided to go on a walk by yourself without anyone noticing.

That was where you found a big cave, you decided to go in there cause yeah.

As you go down the cave, you see this gaint shadow appear in front of you.

And it's a predacons.

There's 6 of them.

Then you become friends with them, you gave them each name.

Lapis- transform an actic wolf with wings.

Color- blue and white

Amethyst- transforms Great Leonopteryx from Avatar.

Color- red and pruple.

Lily - transform a greenland wolf.

Color- red and orange

Rose- transform dragon.

Color- pruple and black.

Bluebell- transform a mountain lion.

Color - orange and yellow.

Iris - transform a grey wolf.

Color- grey blue and white.

You hang out with them much.

You didn't tell anyone about the cave and meet the predacons.

You found out that lapis can make Concussive roar: lapis has a loud, powerful roar that sends blue rings to knock down/destroy structures.

Portal Creation: Lapis roar can also open up green and blue portals (like the ground bridge), connecting two non-adjacent areas.

So you guys can go whatever you want to go.

They take you to their hideout.

They eat deception, energons, or energon cube.

They listen to you.

Follow where you go.

Play with them.

Teach them about earth, where you live, and show them your family.

Talk about your family and how you feel left behind.

They understand you, and you understand them, but you can tell their body language and their emotions.

Well, lapis is your best friend, they are.

You just like predacons' wishaper.

But when you have to leave the camp, lapis will pick you up.

Then your family noticed how you were acting different.

They saw your drawing of different people.

You draw your friends all lot, and they still wonder who might be.

Optimus, notice your drawing of the simple of the predacons sign.

He knew something was up.

Not until when Megatron found full pack of Energon cube where at your friends hideout is.

Optimus and his team decided to take the eneregon.

They were stopped by 6 predacons.

So, you ordered your friends to attack the deceptions and protect your family.

They did so, but Megatron wanted to capture them even though he thought they never listened to his order, so he wanted to capture you.

And optimus wants to speak to you, and everyone wants to speak to you.

Oh boy... you're in trouble.

But you guys talk, and they agreed to pay attention to you.

You didn't want that.

You have friends who pay attention to you.

A few days pass.

Agent fowler said the predacons are allowed to stay.

Your friends and family get along each.

Then Bumblebee has a crush on lapis (I'll be writing Bumblebee x prediction reader lapis)

You meet your future self.

Then Megatron kidnapped you as an excrement, but you've been saved.

You have a lot of adventures.

You order your predacons if whenever you're sick or hurt, they have to follow optimus orders. early.

Your predictions don't speak cause they're shy, but they work it out.

You meet new autobots friends.

You met the rescue bots with bumblebee and lapis.

But that is when optimus and his team have to leave Earth.

Bumblebee got his voice back.

Then you say goodbye to them, but you know you'll meet again.

Years pass without autobots, but your friend predacons decided to stay here because this is their home.

You and your predacons discover there's more predacons on earth.

When you turn 8, you see starscream.

He said he wants you something that is very dangerous, but you refuse.

So, lapis attack starscream, then you lost your left arm.

You head to the hospital, and you were given a robot left arm that can shoot out Lazer beam like optimus and his team has.

You train a lot, fighting, disguise.

The predacons you found were under in the gaint cave.

So you took care of them, you discover more and more about them and study them a lot.

You use the journal to write about them and give them names.

But you still wonder if you remember optimus said that predacons used to live cybertron.

But how did they get here? How did they find Earth? How did they get to earth? So many you thinking.

TRANSFORMERS RID X TEENAGE READER

I'll make the year 2017

Now you're 13 years old, you did travel a lot.

You sometimes visit the old base that we're destroyed by Megatron.

You miss the old times.

You make your own suit like Iron Man movie.

You make some weapons.

You keep searching more predacons if their alive.

That is where you and your friend predacons meet Bumblebee and optimus.

You're so happy to see them.

You found out bumblebee has a team.

You explained to them what just happened and how you lost your arm.

They're were mad at starscream but happy that you're okay.

Then you meet the rescue bot again.

You actually went to time and met your younger self.

You're happy to see your family again.

#transformers x child reader #transformers prime #transformers prime x reader #transformers robots in disguise #transformers robots in disguise x reader #transformers rid x reader #transformers predacons #predacons #predacon reader

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cloveang3l · 4 days ago

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OC Mega Post!!

Wondering why I'm dead? It's these two fuckers.

(btw half of these are just random pinterest references that I referenced and I cannot be bothered to find all of them rn please so just know that only the designs and colouring is mine here)

If these are bad (some of them really are) do not kill me I'm #struggling rn

My girl and her doomed bi4bi lover!! Basically she’s destined to be a villain who dies and he’s destined to be a hero but she’s the opposite of evil and he’s DOWN BAD. He has a secret ability to turn back time that he hides for the sake of not fucking up anything but uses it every time she dies - the time travel makes him lose his memories. So he goes back in time thousands and thousands of times, forgetting and repeating every single time until he finally succeeds.

Also, whenever she dies he gets hit with every past life, reminding him of his failures

(yes they have a happy ending)

“Kind! What about you?”

“I want to stay by your side!”

”Please God, let me stay by her side.”

“When I find the fates, my love, I’ll cut them bit-by-bit till they understand the anguish I’ve suffered.”

Turn back time?

“Yes.”

SAVE HER.

“Is there— is there any way that I could remember? That I could— could tell myself what to do?”

“You will always have flashes of vision. It is up to you if you decipher the truth from them.”

“That is near impossible.”

“Saving her is near-impossible. Yet, here you are, thousands of attempts later.”

“Her family is centred around roses, yet you call her Lily. Why?”

“She is nothing like a rose - she hides no thorns. A lily may be a flower of death, but it is one of purity as well. Besides, we first met in a garden of white lilies. It’s precious to me, just as she is.”

"You- how many times have you done this for me?!"

"...Thousands, I think. I'm not sure, I never remember."

"That-- I-- I never wanted you to hurt yourself for me!"

"But you would do the same for me, wouldn't you?"

"I- Of course."

"So let me save you."

She looked at him, in that second, with eyes that spoke louder than any word. She shouted, screamed, cried the words that their lives would never let them say out loud. He smiled in response.

"I know, Lily."

I love you too.

She died two days later.

When I was five, I had a dream. I dreamt of myself, older, dancing with a woman while I had the most genuine smile on my face. I never saw hers, and my vision slowly turned red.

I woke up, and in front of me was a blank notebook. The only words written were ‘Save Her.’

I didn’t know who ‘her’ was - until I met her highness five days later.

She used to be worried about me, asking if she had done anything wrong.

She’s never done anything wrong, she doesn’t have a wrong bone in her body.

So why does she always die?

“Why were you even in that lily garden in the first place? Mother didn’t allow guests often.”

“I was five, I was just trying to run away from my parents. Why were you there, your royal highness?”

“Oh stop laughing - it was for the same reason as you!”

“Perhaps our visit was fate, then!”

The two teenagers looked at each other and grinned, sharing a short, completely undignified laugh.

“Perhaps.”

-- There was one timeline— it was the hundredth one, where I actually took my shot. We dated in secret, even got married at seventeen when tensions rose and I truly thought that we’d have our epic story, being able to run away and enjoy our lives together.

But they— they took her away, they tortured her and when I found her she was broken. I’ve— I’ve never seen such a horrible round since, but it haunts me.

Maybe my mind keeps it as a memory for future rounds, but I haven’t let myself confess since. I can’t let her go through that again.

Does it hurt? Does— of course it does! Not only do I get haunted by my failures, but I see her in her wedding dress, in my arms, in my bed and— and I’m not going to have that. Not until I save her, once and for all.

"How did you two end up in a lily garden, of all places?"

"Her mother-- her majesty, kept one privately, behind the palace. Perhaps it was her way of seperating herself with her husband - I'll never be certain, she rarely left her chambers. Certainly not to be with her own daughter."

"You speak with bitterness."

"I speak with bitterness towards many, because many have trampled over my lily in one way or another."

"And yet, you two were the ones to run over the flowers yourselves?"

"There is a difference between crushing a flower as a child, rather than as an adult."

"…Such a devoted soul, you are."

"It took you so many rewinds to notice?"

“I wish I could meet my younger self once, just to hug him. All that kid wanted was powers like his family so that he could be perfect for them - I wish, god I wish that I could tell him that it was all going to be okay. But I’d be lying.”

“I’d say that you haven’t changed a bit since then.”

“I’m nothing like that boy.”

“And yet, you both always wish for the sake of love.”

(also a lil animation but i haven’t animated in literal ages and i speedran this in 20 minutes its so fucking ugly)

and here are some pencil sketches!

Going to run away into my hidey hole and never come out because of sheer embarrassment now thanks <33

#art #fanart #fanart of myself ig #oc #oc art #ocs #my ocs #clove personal #oc doodles #procreate #animation #pencil sketches #digital art #going insane over these two #also my mental health is SO BAD RIGHT NOW OKAY im very much dead rn #also became very epic pilled ive sketched penelope a couple times #tim drake still owns my heart i just havent done much fanwork recently #i hate school omfg

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violetsareblue-selfships · 3 months ago

Text

Metal Bouquet

F/O: Sevika | Word Count: 1315 // hehe wrote this last night and i'm too eager to share so here ^^ like a direct follow-up to that last fic ^^ anyways i hope you enjoy it <3 // also I've linked the song my s/i plays on the jukebox if anyone wants to listen

Building up the courage takes a while. Weeks, maybe even months. All through it, April endures Jinx's teasing that she can't even ask a girl out, but she takes it as a good sign. If Jinx didn't approve of the potential relationship, she certainly wouldn't be teasing about it, right?

She starts slow: asking Sevika to stay a little longer any time she comes over for repairs or to pick Jinx up from April's shop, going to the Last Drop specifically when she suspects that Sevika will be there so they can chat more, and buying her the occasional drink when they're out together.

Yet every time she thinks she's gathered the nerve, her brain goes all fuzzy when their eyes meet and the moment's lost.

Her inability to think around the older woman leads her to seek out a different form of confession. She toys with the idea of a letter for a little while. It'd be easy. Writing her feelings down has always been easier than speaking them aloud, yet Sevika would recognize her handwriting, she's sure.

And she's not ready to reveal that she's been Sevika's secret admirer just yet. She'll save that for Sevika's next birthday, so the gift will (hopefully) be the last as just an admirer and the first as her girlfriend.

Flowers would be a sweet idea, but the air of the undercity isn't quite clean enough yet for those (she's sure even a bouquet wouldn't fare well anywhere but topside).

It's only while sifting through some metal scraps she's been tempted to give to Jinx that she gets the idea to make her something.

She works on it between her usual repairs and commissions, feeling a bit cheesy that she's crafting flowers out of metal. She doesn't even know what Sevika's favorites are much less if she has a favorite flower, so April sticks to roses with a few lilies thrown in.

As soon as the fake flowers are crafted and painted to her liking, she bundles them up with a bit of twine, resisting the urge to rush out at that very second to find Sevika.

It's a few days before she leaves her shop with the metal flowers tucked carefully in her arms. It's early enough in the day that the Last Drop should be mostly empty. She'd really prefer to not have other eyes on her for this…

Her eyes land on Sevika the instant she steps inside, the sight of her bringing both relief that she doesn't have to do this another day and nerves that this is it. The nerves cause her to loiter a little, heading over to the jukebox and setting it to play a song that's always calmed her nerves.

Though, as the familiar intro blares, she realizes just how cheesy it is for this music to be the background for her confession.

Sevika turns as the music changes, raising her eyebrow curiously at April. "What? Can't a girl be in the mood for a familiar song?" April asks, a sheepish look in her eyes.

Sevika snorts, blowing a puff on her cigar before pulling it away from her mouth. "Sure." Sevika leans back in her chair, her eyes slowly appraising April's form from head to toe. "What has you all dolled up? You look like you're asking for trouble," Sevika murmurs, her lips quirking up in a teasing smirk.

April giggles nervously, resisting the urge to fidget with her hair or the metal stems in her hands. Instead, she slowly approaches Sevika. "Maybe I am," She murmurs, exhaling sharply through her nose to quickly get rid of her nerves. Then her hand extends the flowers to Sevika, her heart rate skyrocketing as she waits.

Sevika's eyes widen, all traces of her teasing dropping. For a moment she just stares at the flowers before cautiously reaching to take them from April, her fingers almost trembling as she makes contact with the metal. Her eyes are full of question when they meet April's again.

"I like you, Sevika," April says softly, looking anywhere but those pretty grey eyes that will shut off her ability to speak. "I couldn't figure out any other way to tell you. Janna, you get me so damn tongue-tied, you know that?

Real flowers would just wilt down here, so I figured these are the next best thing, right?" April says, fully aware that she's starting to ramble. "Sorry, I didn't know your favorites, so I went with a mix of mine."

She seems like she's about to continue on, but the soft sound of Sevika's laughter cuts her off. Her heart jumps at the sound until she recognizes that it's soft, warm, fond laughter, not anything mocking.

"You're too cute," Sevika murmurs. "These are beautiful. They must have taken quite a bit of work to make."

"I-I mean not really? I barely noticed the time passing…" April murmurs, scratching the back of her neck so endearingly that Sevika has the urge to tug her down into a kiss.

"Mm-hmm." Sevika idly fiddles with one of the petals on the stem. She should be astonished at how detailed the flowers are down to the roses having little metallic thorns, but she knows the amount of detail April puts into her work.

Her eyes raise back up to April's, and she chuckles at the sight. April's still not looking at her, but she's restlessly fidgeting with her fingers. "Aren't you going to look at me?" Sevika asks. "I do have an answer for you, but I'd prefer you look at me when I say it."

April immediately looks at her, and her nervous expression has Sevika softening. "I like you too."

"You do?" April asks softly, taking a hesitant step closer. Some of her nerves dissipate when Sevika shifts the flowers to her metallic hand so that her human one can take one of April's.

"I do." She gently squeezes April's hand, a little amused at how much smaller her hand is.

"Then… you'll go out with me?" April asks. "We don't even have to go out. You could come over and I could make you dinner." Just date me. Be mine…

"That sounds nice." Sevika gently tugs her a little closer. "Just let me know when, sweetheart." She smiles at the faint blush that takes over April's face at that.

"I mean… we could… tonight?" April says.

"Mm, eager, aren't we?" Sevika teases, chuckling as it makes April's blush grow darker.

"'vika… I've been wanting to go on a date with you for years at this point. Yes, I'm eager." It's embarrassing to admit it, but the way it makes Sevika blink at her is worth it.

Sevika mouths the word 'years,' so many things slotting into place at that realization. All those times that their eyes met and April shyly looked away from her… "Right," She says, the word coming out a little strangled. "Tonight works."

"Cool," April says, giggling in the cutest way that has Sevika's heart clenching. She's going to have Sevika wrapped around her little finger soon if she doesn't already… "I'll go get ready for that then. Any preference for dinner?"

Sevika manages a laugh at that. "It'll be your cooking. That's enough for me."

April giggles again and nods. "Great! See you tonight, 'vika," She says softly, a mischievous look crossing her face for a moment before she dips her head down to kiss the top of Sevika's head, a feat only managed by the fact she's still standing while Sevika's sitting down.

"See you," Sevika murmurs, giving her hand one last squeeze before letting go. April heads toward the door, pausing to blow a kiss at her shyly before ducking outside again.

That only confirms that she's done for. If her heart weren't already April's, that flirtatious little move would have done it.

Gods, she can't wait for tonight…

#self ship #self shipping #self insert fic #self insert fanfiction #self ship fic #self insert #si x canon #canon x si #canon x self insert #self insert x canon #my writing #her heart is tied to mine 💖🦾

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berryblosom · 2 years ago

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AT LAST MY LOVE HAS COME ALONG *ೃ༄

Summary: It’s your wedding day and things are slowly falling apart but your future husband comes to the rescue.

“They’re supposed to be blue not pink, remember I said they reminded me of Toru’s eyes?” Things were a disaster, you were getting married in an hour and so many things have been going wrong with the preparation, people calling up sick and now you get your bouquet and it’s made up of pink roses instead of the blue lilies you asked for.

“Calm down okay I’ll call Geto to see if there’s any florist around.” Shoko your maid of honour tried her best to calm you down as you hyperventilate. You wanted this day to be perfect, you spent months planning this day with Satoru and if it all went wrong you didn’t know if your heart could take it.

“It’s too late, florists are closed by now. I just wanna see Satoru.” Tears well up in your eyes and you make no to effort to wipe them away.

“No no no crying you’ll ruin your makeup and you know you can’t see the groom before the ceremony.”

“That’s just a silly superstition.” You rest your chin in your palm deciding to sulk in your changing room than dealing with the mess outside. So far the only thing that went right was your dress, hair and makeup and that’s because you and shoko took care of it yourselves.

“Okay just give me a second.”

Before you could respond Shoko is bolting out of the doors leaving you alone in the room. As you wait for shoko to return you think about your engagement to Satoru. He was so nervous when he proposed, luckily he decided to do it with just the two of you otherwise everyone would’ve seen him covered in sweat and drop the ring about a million times. He promised to do everything in his power to make you happy and though you weren’t superstitious the chaos of today was making you extremely uneasy about your marriage.

Three loud knocks break you from you spiralling thoughts.

“Come in.” Expecting to see shoko you stayed slumped in your seat with a frown on your lips but when white wisps of hair poke through the door you are on your feet in seconds.

“Toru what the hell are you doing here?” You lift up the ends of your dress and run to your fiancé.

“Shoko told me you were having a bit of a diva melt down.” You roll you eyes but waste no time in jumping into his arms. Your head rests on his shoulder being careful not to get any makeup on his white shirt.

“Is that why your here with your blindfold on?” You question as he gently rubs circles into your back.

“Yes but my eyes are closed under otherwise I would see your dress.” You jump back down and carefully lead Satoru to the couch even though he had no problem getting there himself. You take your seat incredibly close to him, latching onto his arm.

“I’ve missed you.” Satoru intertwines your fingers together and places your hands in his lap. As per your mothers request you didn’t see Satoru all of yesterday and today until now, she had you busy getting ready for the mess that is today.

“Me too pretty. You want me to do anything?” You also my didn’t hear him because of how relaxed you were now that he was here.

“Like what?”

“Like make the florist that made you cry disappear.” You laugh at his concerning serious tone.

“I told you to stop threatening to kill people for me plus it’s fine I’ll go with the pink flowers.” Satoru was not happy with that. When he proposed his one and only goal was to make you the happiest you could ever be so having flowers you didn’t want on your wedding day was not an option.

“Not happening I’ve already sent someone to pick up the lilies you wanted they’ll be here in ten minutes. Also I know the lights weren’t working so I replaced them with better ones.” The tears you didn’t want were welling up in your eyes. This is typical Satoru, whenever you were on the verge of a meltdown he was there to save the day, one of the many reasons you love him.

“Am I allowed to kiss you before the ceremony?”

“If you do I’ll definitely have to ruin your makeup and you look too good to ruin.”

I though you couldn’t see me!” You say giving him light slap on the chest as he laughed.

“Couldn’t help myself pretty baby.” He leans in to give you a quick peck on the lips not caring that your lipstick stained his lips.

“You’re so lucky my mom isn’t here or she’d kick your ass.” He gets up and walks toward the door and it wasn’t long until you’d be walking down the isle.

“I’d take a beating to see you all dolled up ready to become Mrs Gojo.” You smile at the name, all the worries you had before seemingly disappeared because you were getting married to the sweetest, silliest man in the world.

“You shouldn’t be seeing me at all, now go Mr Gojo.” You make sure the coast is clear before pushing him out of your dressing room.

“I’ll see you in ten minutes wifey!” He practically screams before skipping down the hall.

“Cant believe I’m marrying that guy.”

BONUS😘

“Wow you really can’t dance can you?” After Satoru stepped on your toes for the tenth time you were ready to give up, for a man with amazing reflexes he has little to no rhythm or coordination. Your first dance as a married couple was painful interesting to say the least but after the day you had a couple broken toes were worth it.

“Don’t say that, i’m good at everything.” He pouts.

“Of course you are honey but why don’t we take a break.” You say nudging him towards your seats

“Your already divorcing me? It’s been twenty minutes!” Your mouth falls open as you stare at you lunatic husband.

“I meant a break from dancing.”

“I knew that I was just testing you because we’re locked in for life baby. You can’t escape me”

You laugh as you walk hand in hand to your seats.

“Couldnt even if I wanted to.”

#jjk x reader #jjk #jujitsu kaisen #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojo headcanons #gojo fanfic #my fics #<333 #so cute #gojototherescue #berrywrites₊ ⊹🌷

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izloveshorses · 6 months ago

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'tis the damn season

10k, modern au, smut 🤫, good old fashioned running into your hot ex bf at your family's christmas party when you already feel weird about coming home, you know?? since it's so long, i recommend reading on ao3. but you're welcome to read the whole thing under the cut!

“More hot cocoa?”

Anya shook her head. “I think I’m too warm.”

The house was stifling and warm now with the fireplace going and this whole crowd crammed into the living room, and Anya, for once in her life, found herself a little too hot for another warm beverage.

Vlad lifted a brow at her, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a flask. “You sure?”

She had to stifle a laugh. “In that case…” she let him tip a shot into her mug before refilling. Coming home would always be strange and uncomfortable, but this man, who was more like a loveable uncle than an old family friend at this point, was always a delight to visit with. And now that she was in the latter half of her twenties she could always count on Vlad to supply her with whatever was in his flask. “How was Buenos Aires?”

“Oh, lovely and sunny as ever,” Vlad said happily. “Lily loved it. Though, Livadia is still her favorite.” Since they got married, they’d gone on at least one extravagant trip a year, and Anya could barely keep up with their itinerary. “How are you getting on? Is Paris as wonderful as I remember it?”

Anya felt her jaw tighten, just slightly. But she managed a smile. “Lovely and sunny as ever.”

“Good!” he gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze, unaware of the lie. He was about to say something else, but she was saved by the door squeaking open, the sound of stomping boots, the howl of the wind, a gust of hellos and welcomes. Vlad shot to his feet from the couch, nearly spilling his boozy hot cocoa. “Well, it’s good to see you, my boy! How was the drive?”

A laugh. “Slippery.”

The sound of his voice from the foyer made her heart leap to her throat. She knew he was going to be here. It wasn’t a surprise. But she felt her pulse in her jumping under neck all the same.

Dmitry was still carefully toeing his wet boots off of his feet when Anya made her way to say hello. He didn’t see her at first. Vlad was talking his ear off, other neighbors were trying to reintroduce themselves to him, Olga’s children were hugging his calves, and he was still crouched over and trying not to get the floor wet. At first she could convince herself nothing had changed at all.

But then he rose to his full height, and— no, he was not the same whatsoever. Somehow even taller. Still too handsome, with his dimpled cheeks and sharp jawline and soft brown hair and kind, warm eyes. But in the years since she had last seen him he had lost that youthful roundness of his face, chiseling his cheekbones even more, the boyish flush gone.

But his smile, when their eyes met and he lifted just one side of his mouth, like he couldn’t believe his luck, was like something from a time capsule, and suddenly she was seventeen years old and stupid all over again.

“Hey,” he finally said to her, his rich voice breaking through the others with ease, like a knife through butter.

She tried for another smile in return. “Hey.”

It appeared that was as far as they would get. People wove between them and bombarded him with greetings but those honey warm eyes never left hers. Anya opened her mouth, finally thinking of something normal to ask, when someone else came barging in the narrow entryway.

“Thank god you’re here,” Maria gasped, almost theatrically out of breath. “Please come into the kitchen and fix it. Tatya is convinced the mayo for the deviled eggs is fine, but there’s just something not right and I need someone with good taste to make her come to her senses.”

She was tugging his arm and he about lost his balance. “All right, all right, I’m happy to help.”

He and Anya shared another look before he was gone.

Dmitry Sudayev. One of the many reasons she could never come home, not really. But also probably the only reason she still did.

An arm came around Anya’s shoulders. “Help me refill the punch,” Olga asked in a way that was very much implying this task had nothing to do with the punch. Anya had no choice but to walk in step with her oldest sister.

She helped carry the dishes of citrus slices and pitcher to the drink table. “Is it okay that he’s here?” Olga asked in a low voice while she stirred the punch bowl. “Do you want me to shoo him out?”

Anya bit her lip. “It’s fine, Olya.” Her sister lifted her eyes to her in unforgiving disbelief. But Anya, upon even more reflection, believed she was being honest. “Really. That was all a long time ago.”

Olga pursed her lips. “Three years is still a long time to be with someone, Nastya.”

“I know, but— we were so young.” Anya waved her hand, trying to dismiss it all. As if he still wasn’t one of the most influential people in her life, whether he was in it or not. “I haven’t seen him in— in years.” She had lost count of the time spent away. But when she sat down and did the math, she hadn’t been back home in nearly a decade. “It will be good to catch up with him.”

Olga studied her, searching for the catch, the hesitancy. She had always been able to see right through each and every one of them. Sometimes it was comforting, knowing how fiercely protective her family was of her, but other times, like right now, it reminded her too much of Mamma when she was picking a fight. “You could come home more often, you know.”

Anya walked right into that one, didn’t she. “No,” she shook her head, “I really can’t.”

Olga smiled sadly. “Okay. If you’re sure. About— him, I mean.”

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

A blur of squealing children crashed at their feet, and Olga was whisked away, leaving Anya to her own devices. The moment was over. Not alone, though, not in this house, not with this crowd. She didn’t quite recognize some of the faces. Others she knew, but couldn’t place their names and she prayed they wouldn’t come talk to her. Maybe her little corner by the punch bowl was safe for now. Speakers blared classic Christmas carols, the fire crackled, wind howled against the frosted windows, someone hollered a laugh at some ridiculous joke, her nieces were squealing and running underfoot. She caught the eye of her father from across the room. He gave her a wink before returning to his conversation.

This weekend wasn’t all bad. She loved her nieces and nephew with everything in her, and it had been good to catch up with her sisters. Alexei was due to arrive tomorrow. Last night she and Maria had decided to bake cookies for some reason, nearly in tears laughing at something stupid with their fingers caked in dough, like they were giggling little girls again.

But. It was this. These parties, this lifestyle, that was slowly sucking the life out of her.

Anya wasn’t sure what this made her, but she couldn’t help the resentment growing inside of her, for some reason. That her family was too good and wonderful to leave without feeling guilt tainting her newfound independence.

“This looks good.”

She woke from her dark thoughts to find Dmitry standing there, thumbing a plastic chinet cup, warm eyes on her. “It’s not too bad.”

The corners of his mouth twitched. He helped himself to a scoop of punch and he leaned against the wall next to her, his arm not quite brushing hers. Was he always this tall? There was no way. He had at least a full foot on her. He had always been muscular, but now his shoulders seemed to have broadened even more in her absence, filling out his cable knit sweater easily. The collar of his button up underneath the wool was crooked and poking out, and her fingers twitched with the urge to fix it.

Instead she asked, “Are the deviled eggs saved?”

He cracked a smile, a sliver of white teeth. “It was a close call, but yes, they indeed will be edible.”

“Thank god.”

He was still smiling when he tilted his cup back for a sip. “How long has it been? Five years?”

Anya wiped her hand on her jeans. It wasn’t like they parted on bad terms— things just kind of fizzled out after she left, which would have happened with any relationship, strong or not. But she felt strangely nervous to be around him again all the same. He still smelled like the crisp snow outside, but with a little clove, a little cinnamon. She had to stop herself from outright sniffing him like a freak. “Eight.”

“Damn. Time flies, I guess.” He dropped a brow. “But… wouldn’t I have seen you when you came home for the holidays?”

She shook her head. “Almost every year the family has been out of town for Christmas.”

Sometimes they visited her in Paris. Sometimes they ventured elsewhere. Those trips helped, if she was honest. She could come and go on her own terms, travel separately, slip away to do something touristy just to have a moment to herself. And none of those places had any memories rotting their walls.

Dmitry nodded. “That’s right.”

There was a pause, nothing but Sinatra and the ambient chatter filling the space between them. She fished for another topic. “I hear you got an apartment.”

“Yep. Right on the town square.”

She smiled. “Moving on up in the world, huh.”

He laughed and ducked his head. Against his cheek his eyelashes were thick, dark, long. Always beautiful. “It’s not Paris, but I do have my own washer and dryer unit.”

“You made it!”

“Living the dream.”

They shared smiles, but Anya felt that sadness creeping up her stomach, making her look down at her cup again. “I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch.”

“Don’t be.” He shrugged. “You actually made it out. Like— like we talked about.”

Like they talked about. Whispering plans of escape from this dead end town in a parked car, or in the middle of the night with his arms around her and a laptop playing a movie they had long stopped watching, or in a booth at the diner they always went to after school because it had the best fries, their feet touching under the table. Fantasizing loading up his car and driving west as far as they could go, or booking a flight to Paris with nothing but backpacks on their shoulders and cash in their pockets. Longing for a grander life than the dull monotony that was dealt to them. To see just how big the world could be, how big they could be.

She did make it out. But what was the cost?

Leaving him behind, her heart whispered. But she ignored the thought, because her heart was acting like a stupid seventeen year old girl again and nothing productive came from that.

She was about to respond when a hysterical cry came from the hallway.

“What a disaster!”

Anya and Dmitry exchanged a microscopic, knowing look, before Anya mustered up some energy to leave her corner of safety and investigate.

Mamma was weeping, three daughters flanking her protectively, petting her and offering gentle and logical words of comfort. “It will be okay, Mamma,” one of them was saying, “People won’t even notice,” said another.

“Of course they’ll notice,” their mother shooed them away. “I feel a headache coming on. The party is ruined.”

“What’s the matter?” Anya asked.

Olga answered, “We are out of ice.”

“Ice?” Anya should’ve known. There were no such things as real disasters in this house. “Is there none in the ice maker in the freezer?”

“We are all out.”

Maria gave Anya a tired look. “And everyone is parked in the driveway, so we can’t get the car out of the garage without alerting everyone. And we’re about to be snowed in, anyway.”

“We could just go outside…” Anya started, trying to lighten the mood. “Chip off some icicles from the roof and we’ll be all set.”

No one laughed. It wasn’t even that funny, anyway. “We can’t have a party without ice,” Mamma went on, dabbing at her eyes theatrically. “This is so embarrassing. It’s been such a stressful week— I’m afraid this is setting me over the edge.”

“We need ice?” Dmitry appeared, as if by magic, his voice once again alerting Anya, like some kind of beacon. Always here to fix things with the gentlest solutions. “I was the last one here, I can run out and grab some.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that— not in this weather.”

“It’s really no trouble, I put chains on my tires already, and—”

“Oh, would you?” Her mother patted his cheek, suddenly relieved. “We can always count on you to be our best errand boy, Dmitry. Thank you.”

Anya frowned in appalled shock. But before she could scold her mother for belittling him so easily Dmitry only smiled with good humor and told her, “Any time.”

Anya felt him brush past her on his way to the foyer. She followed her family into the kitchen. There was more talk about the party, how well or not well it was going, was the punch bowl refilled? Yes. Okay. What about the charcuterie selection? No, let’s get the stuff out of the fridge— what do you mean we’re out of the top shelf aged Romano blend? More weeping. Anya sighed and made her way to the door.

Dmitry was still putting on his layers, thankfully, when she started stuffing her feet into her boots. She could feel him halting, watching her in confusion.

“I’m coming with you,” she explained. Where was her scarf? “Mamma— we need more cheese.”

“Ah,” he said, sounding like that explained absolutely nothing. “Wouldn’t it make more sense for you to just tell me to pick some up while I’m out?”

“No, because I know which one she wants, and if they don’t have it I know what her second choice would be, and if that choice fails I know her third, and that would be too complicated to explain.”

When she looked up at him he nodded. “Ah.” And then there was that stupid smile that she had never been able to resist, not when she was seventeen, nor now, when she was twenty-seven, either, apparently. “Bundle up, Romanov.”

Dmitry’s car was still the same old Volvo he drove ten years ago. There was a single dent in the passenger door, a new air freshener hanging from the rear view, a tear in the upholstery. But it was running well, he took good care of it. He took care of what was his.

Aside from the Christmas tunes quietly playing on the stereo they were quiet as they made their way to the grocery. Anya had watched him brush the snow off the windows, losing the battle against the precipitation falling down now. The windshield was still foggy when he pulled out of the driveway. It wasn’t a long drive, but it was dark and the snowfall was thick, and he was driving slow, in case there were any slick spots. She couldn’t help but study his profile. That familiar bump in his once-broken nose, thick eyebrows, doll lips, dimpled cheeks. Both his hands were wrapped securely around the steering wheel but, in spite of the less than ideal driving conditions, he seemed more relaxed out here without the gaggle of party guests to contend with. She supposed they still had that in common.

He declared, rather sudden, “I’m fully convinced your mother still hates me.”

Anya snorted. His eyes were on the road but he was smiling, joking with her, doing his best to keep things easy. This was the Dmitry she was familiar with— comfortable in his space, soft edges, a little sleep deprived. So she decided to joke with him too. “I think she thinks you’re the evil boy who took my virginity.”

He coughed, surprised. “But I— didn’t!”

“You didn’t.”

He didn’t. Three years was a long time to date someone, yes, but they were so young…

There was that burning twist of embarrassment again, on his behalf. “I’m sorry she called you that. Back there.”

“Don’t be. I run errands for her all the time.”

“You… hang out with my family?”

“No, I run errands, if they need something.” Dmitry shrugged. “I don’t know, with Alexei off in med school, and everyone else moved out and settled, I just think… I don’t know, it must be lonely. And it’s not like she knows better.”

She shifted in her seat, looking at him square, trying to read him. “You seem so different.”

In the dark, his eyebrows rose. “Am I?”

“Well— like… you’re… mostly the same,” she said, tilting her head. “But a little different.”

“Different how?”

“You’re… taller, for one.”

He laughed. “Taller? Have you considered that you just stopped growing in fifth grade?”

She rolled her eyes. “Shut up.”

“Is that the only difference you see?”

She pushed her mouth to the side. “You dress better now, too.”

His lips pulled, showing his teeth with his grin. “You mean disgusting old hoodies and sweats weren’t all the rage fifteen years ago?”

“It’s a compliment.”

“A backhanded one.”

“A real one. God.” She shook her head, facing the windshield again. “But I don’t know. Maybe different isn’t the right word. You just… seem really happy to me.”

He shot a quick glance at her. “You know… I might be.”

She watched, waited. He wet his lips while he steered them left at the intersection. “I don’t know. It’s— it’s not the life I expected, I guess, but… it’s not too bad. I like my job and my coworkers. I like where I live. I can’t… really ask for much else.”

She felt that twist in her gut again, a little pinch. It wasn’t envy, exactly, but it had the same effect. “Where do you work, again?”

“Nothing fancy. I just fix computers at some corporate office downtown.”

“What do you mean? That’s so fancy!” She pushed his shoulder and he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

With some more gentle probing, he told her a little more, bit by bit, of his life here. He slowly chipped away at his degree one class at a time when he could afford it, worked odd jobs waiting tables and even bartended for a time, lived with Vlad until he had enough saved for the little apartment above the post office on the town square.

Maybe it was selfish, but she allowed herself a moment to consider this, what it would’ve been like if she had stayed. Watching Dmitry grow less moody and instead channel his feelings into helpful and selfless tasks, driving through the snow to get ice for the holiday party every year, living above a post office, Dmitry’s eyes and hands always available to look at. And some small part of her longed for that life, the life she missed, almost as much as she had once longed to escape. The alluring appeal of what could have been.

Maybe she would be happy, too.

But staying here… it had nearly eaten her alive. The itch— the burn— to go, to get out, was too intense. She didn’t think she would’ve survived another year here. So when she got into her dream college, she had packed her car and didn’t look back. Didn’t think about how the one person who really, really understood her couldn’t follow yet. Didn’t think about how that distance ruined them.

They parked in the nearly empty lot, crossing coats over their chests to keep the warmth from getting lost in the biting chill. It was the kind of cold that reached down to your bones, freezing you from the inside out.

Anya expected that from him, honestly. To be just as cold as this wind. It was what she deserved.

But Dmitry was all warmth and easy smiles, letting her walk ahead to the dairy section. Maybe he really had changed. Maybe this… maybe this was good, then. That he had grown so much. Or maybe he was being too forgiving.

“You seem different to me, too,” he said, watching her search for the goddamn right cheese.

She lost focus, eyes drifting to him. “Me?”

“Yeah. You’re…” he wet his bottom lip, waving his hand, searching for the right word. “Quiet.”

Quiet. Huh. She looked back at the shelf of artisan cheese. “I guess coming home does that to me,” she finally said.

“I know,” he said softly, and something about the tone of his voice made her meet his eyes again. He knew. He knew how hard it was, coming home from college, being bombarded with questions why she couldn’t just be content with her lot in life like everyone else. Why she couldn’t just settle and marry a rich man in accounting and have a bunch of babies. Dmitry had always been her one escape, her one thing in life she could call hers, not the family’s. Maybe it wasn’t exactly healthy, but. They had found relief in only one another.

And here they were. Hiding from her family, yet again, escaping in the smallest ways.

His warm eyes swam through hers. “How’s Paris?”

She sighed. “Paris is… is really good.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah. It’s… honestly? It’s the fucking best.” She finally found the Romano blend she was looking for, snatching it as she talked. “I get to see all these really cool places all the time and go to museums and try good food and meet really awesome people and— and it’s beyond anything I could’ve dreamed it would be.”

“Yeah?” They walked side by side to the front of the store. “I’ll bet you’ve got some good stories.”

“I do. It’s just…” she bit her lip, watching as his smile slowly fell into something more serious. “I feel a little out of my depth.”

“Really?” He pulled his chin back in surprise. “I never thought that was possible for you.”

He said it like he meant it, which made her confession all the more difficult. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“‘Course.”

“I don’t… really know what I’m doing.”

He smiled, sad, and bumped his shoulder with hers. “Welcome to the club.”

And for some reason, that gentle gesture made something inside her chest loosen, a valve opening. So many people had offered her advice, both solicited and unsolicited, and so far, his four little words made her feel better than anything anyone else had said.

Like if Dmitry thought she was all right, then maybe she could start thinking that, too.

God, she missed him.

They paid for the ice and the cheese and made their way back to the car. The cold didn’t feel as lonely and bitter as it did before, now she welcomed it. Compared to the stifling heat of her house the wind was refreshing, expanding in her lungs, crisp in her nose. Like she could breathe again.

Snow crunched under tires while Dmitry slowly inched his car out of the parking lot. The town was buried under a hearty layer of white but Anya still recognized the street. The shops, the pharmacy, the gas station, all where she had spent her youth. And then there were new buildings in the place of the old, too shiny and sleek and colorless for anyone who lived here. Dmitry quietly pointed out the chain restaurant that just popped up at this intersection a few months ago.

She had left this place because it felt like nothing about it would ever change. But now, seeing how some of it had changed in her absence, she found herself wishing it had stayed the same.

“We could turn here,” Dmitry started slowly as they approached the intersection of her subdivision, “or—”

“Why wouldn’t we? That’s my street.”

“Or…” he went on, “we could just drive around…”

Oh. He was offering her an out. Like he used to do. Giving her the opportunity to escape, just a little longer. She wet her lips. When her arm brushed against his in the middle he didn’t pull away. Neither did she. “I think they can wait on the ice a little longer.”

He shot her a grin. “Just one more loop around the block won’t hurt.”

No, it wouldn’t. A few extra minutes alone with Dmitry never hurt anyone.

The party came and went, and was about as fun and stressful as Anya knew it would be. Everyone filed out around midnight. Vlad and Lily crashed in the guest room, and somehow convinced Dmitry to stay the night as well, who took the couch.

For some reason Anya could feel his presence from all the way upstairs in her bedroom.

Anya was still wide awake, still in her sweater and jeans, too restless to get settled. Too much on her mind to read. She stood from her desk chair and decided something warm and soothing would help her fall asleep. The house was silent as she crept down the hall and down the stairs, assuming everyone else was long asleep, save for the wind whistling outside. After several hours of noise and chatter and songs that all sounded the same, the silence was a luxury.

But when she rounded the corner there was a lamp illuminating the living room. Dmitry was reclining on the couch with a book in his hand, one arm propped under his head. They locked eyes.

“Hey.”

They got stuck on this greeting for the second time that night. Then Anya thought she should probably explain why she was sneaking into the kitchen. “I can’t sleep, so I’m making some tea.”

“I can’t either,” he answered, waving his book.

He kicked off his throw blanket and sat up. He was still in his clothes from tonight, but the sight of him stretching, bleary eyed and sleepy, was almost too intimate for her to handle, so she had to glance away.

“Want me to make you something?” he asked suddenly.

She raised an eyebrow. “A drink?”

“Yeah. Like— like we used to do.”

He said it shyly, almost, like he was realizing how stupid the suggestion sounded once he spoke it out loud. She nodded. “Something with cinnamon.”

“Cinnamon. Got it.” He shot her a smile while they filed into the kitchen. “Booze?”

“Sure.”

The kitchen was in a state after the party— clean, yes, but with the assistance of people who no longer lived or had never lived in this home many of the dishes were placed in the wrong cabinets. But Dmitry was quiet, careful not to slam drawers shut, silently finding what he needed. A saucepan. Cinnamon sticks. What little was left in the bottle of whiskey from tonight. A pint of Tatiana’s oat milk from the fridge. A box of tea bags. Apple cider packets.

Dmitry really had always been beautiful. In some ways he knew it— his perfect hair, his boyish dimples— but in other, quieter ways, he didn’t. How somber he could get. How soft he looked when he was tired. How his smile lit up his entire face, an entire room. Anya watched, transfixed by his hands. Always so sure of himself. Always intentional. Comfortable in his space. She envied him a little.

“What were you reading?” She asked instead of letting herself think too much. He hadn’t been much of a reader back then, admittedly, until she convinced him to read a few Terry Pratchett novels with her one summer. And then he started having a paperback folded in his back pocket everywhere he went.

“Oh,” he shrugged, as if embarrassed she noticed he still kept that habit. Leftover from what they once were to each other. “Vonnegut.”

“Again?”

He sighed. “Look— he’s a good writer, okay?”

“I’m not judging you by any means,” she smiled. He poured his concoction from the saucepan that had been simmering for a few quiet minutes into two mugs and leaned against the counter next to her. It was still steaming when he put one into her hands. A few years ago, or in another life, she would’ve hopped up on the counter, kicking her legs girlishly, but her feet stayed planted on the hardwood floor. “I’m sorry for interrupting.”

“Don’t be. I can’t focus, anyway. And besides,” he lifted his mug to hers, “this is more delicious than Kurt Vonnegut.”

“How could anything be more delicious than Kurt Vonnegut?”

He rolled his eyes, but took his sip, clearly waiting for her to try it. And she did and— holy shit, this was a masterpiece. He used to take her tea and doctor it up for her for fun, adding a few extra spices or experimenting with ways to froth the milk, but this was miles ahead of the silly ideas they would come up with. The warmth from the spices, the kick of the cinnamon, the smooth creaminess of the milk, and that dash of apple…

Before she could compliment him, he said, into his mug, “And, well, you know how I can never really say no to you.”

He said it lightly, like he was teasing. But Anya felt her stomach clench all the same. Her stupid stupid, stupid seventeen year old girl heart.

Anya set her mug down on the counter between them. “It’s always scared me a little,” she heard herself confessing quietly, before she thought better of it. “How much you’re willing to give me.”

Dmitry’s eyes were molten, warm and soft, malleable, giving too much away. “Me too.” He straightened, facing his torso towards hers. “But maybe there’s…”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of?”

“Yeah,” he whispered. For one fraction of a second her eyes flickered, watching the Cupid’s bow of his upper lip, and back up again. Her fingers touched his, still warm from the tea. “Maybe.”

So that was how Anya found herself wedged between her childhood bedroom door and the solid body of her high school boyfriend, hips and mouths locked together, like they were hormonal teenagers all over again.

Coming home would always be complicated. But this? The way she felt about him, everything about Dmitry himself, how good his mouth felt melded to hers, the way he could make her feel seen and safe and adventurous all at once, was somehow always the simplest truth in the world. And she was starting to think that would never change.

His hand came up around the nape of her neck, tongue swiping the inside of her upper lip, and— yeah. This. All of this. It was so easy.

She still didn’t know where they stood, really, and she knew this probably wasn’t a good idea. But they had always had chemistry this way, with their bodies, taking no time to get reacquainted. They didn’t even really have to talk for him to know what she wanted. And this was more fun and easy to think about than… everything else going on.

Just for the weekend, she thought. Just for the weekend they could pretend. That she was his.

His hand slid up under her sweater and he had her gasping when he squeezed her breast. “Oh my god—”

“Shhh,” he brushed a thumb over her lips. “Don’t want to wake the whole house, do we?”

She shook her head, catching her breath now that his mouth wasn’t on hers, trying to steady it. Her hands were zealously roaming his chest, his stomach, his neck, as if trying to convince her skin this wasn’t a dream. His smell of clove and pine was overwhelming now. If his collar was crooked before it was a mess now, complete with his hair mused and cheeks a splotchy pink, the way they were always flushed when he was younger. She smiled a little. “This takes me back.”

He grinned. “Me too.” He looked around, as if noticing their surroundings the first time. “This room has… not changed at all, I see.” No. It hadn’t. Not her boyband posters on her door, the purple lampshades, the pink shag rug in the shape of a heart, the books on her shelves, postcards pinned on the wall. Another time capsule.

“Haven’t been home to change it.”

“Ah, right.”

Instead of talking about that some more, she kissed him again, continuing where they left off, his hand still cupping her cheek. He tasted like the tea they shared— all cinnamon and spice. He had always been weirdly good at kissing, even when they were teenagers, but now his skills seemed to have sharpened, using his tongue a little more intentionally rather than as a curious experiment. Her leg lifted, looping around his hip, and he caught her thigh, his other hand still cupping at her bra. Even though they were rocking together merely over their clothes she still felt a zing of want zip right through her at the feel of him. All hard and needy and wanting just as much as her.

He yanked himself away again, his head lifting out of her reach. “Shit— wait— I don’t have a condom.”

She rolled her eyes, pushing him away from her. “Ye of little faith.” He lifted a surprised eyebrow. “In my purse, dummy.”

“Oh.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “So you’re just… ready to go anywhere then, huh.”

“Better to be prepared and embarrassed than take the risk.”

His smile was small, knowing. If he was anyone else, she would almost call it mocking, but not with him. Never him. No, he knew her too well, even now. He was, dare she call it, fond of her for being so practical.

Their lips met again in the middle. He sighed hard against her cheek, smile dropping while she deepened the kisses, slow and soft. She had her hand on his chest, advancing forwards while he stumbled backwards. When she shoved him back and he landed on the bed, the mattress squeaked noisily, and Dmitry winced. “Well, this won’t work,” he whispered.

She was standing between his knees, her hands on his shoulders and his on her hips. She bit her lip, glancing over at the rug...

“You mean,” he started, deadpan, “you want me to fuck you on the floor.”

“No, I want to fuck you on the floor.”

His eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “No way,” he said, but the flush of his cheeks meant his protests were insincere. “You deserve better than an old shag rug from 2008, Anya.”

She huffed. “Fine, you can let yourself out then.”

“No no no.” When she started to pull away his fingers came around her belt loops in her jeans and he tugged her even closer. “Just kidding. The shag rug is a fantasy of mine, actually.”

That made her laugh, she had to cover her mouth. He pulled her wrist away and kissed it, then kissed her lips, smiling against her, still holding her by the belt loops of her jeans. And then his hands were lifting the hem of her sweater, so she raised her arms over her head and he peeled it off of her completely. His eyes stayed on hers but his hands, warm and soft, found her sides, holding her ribs. He stood again and he let her lift his sweater off of him. Let her unbutton his shirt, one button at a time.

He had always been strong. But he had only grown more sculpted, more muscular, more solid, with age. Her hands skimmed over the strong mounds of his chest and down his solid abdomen. Smooth skin, endless, warm, alive. His flush went from his cheeks down his neck, over his chest, creeping all the way down his stomach.

“My eyes are up here, Romanov.”

She felt her face warm and she smiled up at him. “Are you getting shy on me?”

His lips brushed over hers when he asked, “Do you want me to be?”

She played with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I want you to be you.”

“That’s what I thought,” he whispered before his mouth closed over her top lip. His hands slid up her back and when she felt the unclasping of her bra she shivered a little. That too was tossed away. And his arms were tight around her, chest to chest, skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat.

They had never quite gotten to this point, back then. Sure, they made out, they touched each other, but they always had at least most of their clothes on and stopped before anything could really happen. But now…

“God, if eighteen-year-old me could see myself right now…”

Dmitry was lowering himself on the ground to lean against the bedpost, kissing her stomach, guiding her—still by the belt loops— to sit on his lap, her knees bracketing his hips, their lungs touching. She arched her back into him, and he happily let his hands slide up her ribs, thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts. “Worth the wait?”

“You have…” his mouth came down to the side of her neck, warm palms on her bare breasts, “no fucking idea.”

Her head tilted back at his ministrations, trying to stifle her sighs while his hands kneaded at her. He was firm, confident, but also gentle. Soft. She bit her lip. “We never exactly made it this far before, huh?”

He lifted his head, their eyes meeting, his hands halting. “We don’t have to go further, if—”

“Are you kidding?” Her hands came up to the side of his face. “This is the most interesting thing to happen since I got home.”

The corner of his mouth curled. “That’s a pretty, uh, low bar…”

“You know what I mean.” She brushed his cheeks with her thumbs, then tangled her fingers in his hair. “Please, just— keep touching me, Dima.”

Now he was fully smiling. “Okay.”

And he did touch her. But not with his hands.

His arms came around her lower back, pulling their stomachs flush together, while she had her shoulders and head tilted back for him, and his mouth came down, dragging over her throat, her chest, like he was savoring the very flavor of her skin. And then his tongue was licking at her nipple and she had to close her eyes. His teeth nipped at the soft skin of the inside of her breast, making her hiss.

“Hey, no hickies.”

He practically growled. “Logically, I know that, but… if i’m being honest…” he was still sucking kisses down the center line of her chest, “part of me really doesn’t give a shit.”

She smirked. “This part?” she asked, grinding down hard and pointedly on him. He groaned.

“Sure, yeah, whatever. Sue me.”

She tugged his hair so he would look at her. “You’re gonna need a really good lawyer, Sudayev.”

He laughed. “How about…” he lifted her at her hips, shifting them both until she was on her back, “I do some community service.”

Anya allowed a smile, bit her lip. “The court might agree with that.”

“Jury rests?”

“Court adjourned!”

Dmitry started tugging her jeans down, struggling with the fabric, impatient. “God, I— I really fucking missed you.”

She missed him too, more than she realized. Not just this— his warm and solid body, his handsome face, his ability to make her stop breathing— but all of him. His laugh. The way he could pull a giggle out of her on her worst day. The way he was the only soul who could spot every one of her fake smiles. The way they could dream together, talk together, sit in silence together.

He was shoving one of her pillows between her hips and the floor, and grabbing another throw blanket for good measure. The sweetness, the consideration behind his gesture, broke her heart a little bit.

“There’s no one else like you, Dima.”

Dark eyes met hers. Soft. So soft. “Is that a good thing?”

She nodded. More than he knew.

“Hmm.” He hesitated just a moment more, then his eyes dropped between her legs, and she felt herself burning from the inside out. “Do you need help staying quiet?”

She grinned, for some reason. His confidence was bordering on arrogance. “I think I can handle it.”

“You sure?” He pressed a single, wet hot kiss onto the soft skin on the inside of her thigh. “Because I really, really don’t want your family to know what we’re up to. So it’s okay if you—”

“It’s fine, Dmitry, I’ll manage. Just—”

She gasped when his tongue parted her folds in one long swipe. Fuck. She hadn’t expected him to feel this good. Her hips squirmed under him when his mouth engulfed her, but his hands quickly pinned her in place, so as not to interrupt his work.

After a minute of this he lifted his head and a single eyebrow at her, knowing smirk on his lips. “All good?”

God, he was so smug. She nodded. “Fine enough,” she said, trying to feign nonchalance, but it was hard with how heavy she was breathing, how much she needed his mouth on her again, so much she was burning.

He laughed silently, like he knew. He fucking knew. “Just checking.”

When he resumed, she had to bite on a knuckle to keep from making any more noises, breathing hard through her nose. Fuck.

When she had been with other guys, this part was… never all that memorable. Just something to get ready for the main event. So she had half expected Dmitry to treat it the same way, because what reason did she have to believe otherwise? But… she was eating those words now. It wasn’t like he was even doing anything particularly spectacular. But maybe it was how he was doing it. Intentional, making her wait for it, generous. Not trying to rush her through it like others had, but rather taking his time, enjoying it. In a way that was so playfully and irrevocably him.

And before she knew it, that pressure in her lower stomach was already mounting, so high already she wasn’t even prepared for it. The only warning she managed was snagging the hair at the top of his head. Because if she spoke it aloud, it would come out in a loud, pathetic moan, or a shout. And they couldn’t have that. Not tonight.

His eyes darted up to hers. A shiver raced up her spine. He stayed right where he was, continuing his ministrations, but faster and faster with each cycle, somehow understanding exactly what she needed before she could even think to voice it herself. A tightness coiled within her and she had to cling hard onto the fibers of the rug.

“Breathe,” he whispered against her. And she let out an exhale she didn’t know she was holding.

And that was it. Gravity pulled her over the edge, and she was left gasping silently, her back arching off the floor. She had to shut her eyes, but Dmitry was right there with her, his presence impossible to ignore, even for a second.

“So good,” he was whispering, over and over again, kissing his way back up her body. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

Her body relaxed completely, breathing heavily and melting into the floor, eyes sleepy, but she still found the side of his face, pulling him close enough to kiss. He grinned against her. He was so warm, so solid, so sturdy above her. One of her hands slipped into his hair, and when she wove her fingers through the strands he exhaled heavily. Content.

“Before we do anything else,” he started, “you should probably know, while you were gone, I was sort of seeing—”

“Don’t,” she stopped him with a finger to his lips, “I don’t even care.” And then she was fumbling with the button of his jeans. “As long as I don’t have to share you this weekend, I don’t give a shit who you’ve been sleeping with.”

He smiled a little. “You never have to share me.”

She didn’t want to know, didn’t need to think about that right now. She didn’t think he needed to know she only ever thought of him when she was with other men, either. Give and take.

Taking off his pants took longer than necessary because she kept kissing him, and his hand was cupping her face, so they were moving a little uncoordinated, a little unpracticed, laughing softly into mouths. And then he was finally stepping out of his boxers and they were both bare, miles of warm skin on skin, patient and unrushed as ever. She felt like she was baring her very soul to him.

He handed her her purse and she dug through until she found the condom wrapper. Dmitry was arranging the blanket around him, so she “wouldn’t get rug burn,” he explained, and the gesture made affection well up in her so suddenly she could almost cry. She missed him, she missed him, she missed him.

“This feels like a dream,” Dmitry rasped, gasping a little while she rolled the condom on him before straddling his thighs. He was in the middle of the floor, propping himself up with his hands behind him. “I never thought— I never thought this would happen. With you.”

Anya was holding his shoulders and neck, taking her time. She pushed his bangs out of his eyes. It was dark in the room so she couldn’t make out every detail of him, but she’d be damned if she didn’t try while she had the chance. “I had a feeling this would happen someday.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “I think that’s why it’s taken me so long to come home.”

His eyes shone, searching, before his mouth collided with her own. His hands found her hips. She couldn’t take it anymore. She needed him inside her. Without breaking their kiss she moved until she could feel him at her entrance, then she slowly sunk around him. His mouth parted in a silent gasp, breathing hard when she was fully seated on him, while they both took each other in. This was real. This was happening.

When she lifted her hips just a fraction, testing the give, he let out this little moan that made her spine tingle. “Anya— Anya— you feel so much better than— than I ever could’ve—”

Her hand flew up to cover his mouth in panic. She froze, smirking a little. “Do you need help being quiet, Dmitry?”

“No,” he huffed, annoyed and amused at the same time. “You’re still such a brat.”

She grinned. “That’s not very nice to say.”

He sighed, extra dramatic and theatrical, and lamented, “This is also gonna fuck up my back.”

“Your old man back? You’re not even thirty.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“I’m two years younger than you.”

He shrugged. “It’s true.”

“I can’t believe how much you’re complaining when you’re literally about to get laid,” she hissed. He grinned. “I can get up, if you’re so bothered…”

“No,” he repeated, hands tightening on her hips, quite possibly already leaving marks. And he lifted half of his mouth. “I like it. Keep being mean to me.”

She laughed a little, biting her lip. She rolled her hips once more and Dmitry tilted his head back, eyes fluttering shut, like he was praying, or something. And then she was moving for real, trying to feel him everywhere at once. The stretch of him was unbelievable. Her nipples brushed against his warm chest, their stomachs sliding together, and she— she couldn’t get enough of him—

“Slow,” he inhaled the word, “slow, slow, slow.”

Anya didn’t realize how fast she was moving. She let her hips slow to a gentle roll, making love to him the way he deserved, and he was looking at her like she hung the moon, like she was a miracle.

She had been with other men before, of course. They had just moved for a while, eyes shut, until they were done, and then rolled over like nothing happened and that was that. But there was something about Dmitry. Maybe it was his commitment to eye contact, or the way he used his hands, or the ten years of suspense building up to this moment. Or it was just the ache in her for him that had never quite gone away.

“Dima,” she murmured, trying her best to keep her voice steady and quiet. “I really missed you.”

His mouth twitched, nearly smiling, breath fanning her face. “Can’t believe this is what— what we’ve been missing out on—”

So he felt it too, then. How this was better than it was supposed to be. “Fuck— I know.” She couldn’t get close enough to him. Her legs shifted so her ankles were locked around his back, needing to be as close to him as possible, moving back and forth, her arms around his shoulders. His hips were eagerly rocking to meet hers. His hands slowly slid up from her waist to cup her breasts, squeezing and clinging on like a tether, making her feel a little wild and need to move faster.

There wasn’t much movement, not in such an intimate position like this, but it was still beyond anything Anya had ever felt before. With him she could try anything, do anything. Kissing necks and biting earlobes turned to swallowing moans that were too loud for this kind of night turned to simply touching foreheads and just breathing together, unable to properly kiss because they were panting so hard. His arms came around her lower back and her nails dug hard into his shoulders. When she inhaled she could feel him breathing with her, could feel his heart against her own.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he kept whispering. Over, and over, and over again. “I’m so close.”

She was too. She didn’t realize it at first, how this crept up on her. But suddenly there it was and she was about at the point where she couldn’t avoid it anymore. This ending. But he was looking at her like that, so desperate and loving. She cupped the side of his face. “I’m right there with you.”

He kissed her, hard, and she let go, moving without abandon, chasing her own high. And they both reached this crest together, mouths muffling their gasps and moans, hearts drumming against one another. Connected in every possible point of contact.

He exhaled against her, eyes swimming through hers, lips swollen and parted. He was so beautiful. Her hand came up to fold into the hair at the back of his neck. And Dmitry gave her that stupid, crooked smile she fell in love with all those years ago. And suddenly this whole thing was very funny.

Sure, everything was different. But what she had with Dmitry… he would always be able to make her laugh at the most inopportune times.

He slowly flattened himself on his back, chest still heaving, and he rubbed his face. “Jesus.”

She was still smiling, and was about to move to get up off of him but his hands stopped her by holding her thighs.

“No, just— stay, for a minute.” His eyes met hers. “Please.”

Dmitry had told her he could never really say no to her. But little did he know, Anya had that same problem with him sometimes.

So she got comfortable, laying on his chest and tucking herself under his chin. They were still on the floor, shivering a little, and Anya needed to pee, but neither were in a hurry. They already lost so much time.

Dmitry was weaving his fingers in her hair, massaging her scalp. Her eyelids felt so heavy. Her fingers traced little hearts on his chest. And then there was that feeling again, the road not taken, the path that was this that could’ve been her life. The one collateral lost in her escape.

“Does sex make you quiet, too?” he asked.

“No, it’s just— I’m just thinking.”

“You’re thinking really hard…” he went on. She could feel him smiling, feel his need for her to stay present. She needed to do her best to do that, at least. For him. “I can, like, almost hear your brain.”

She took a breath. “I didn’t want— I hated leaving you,” she whispered. He stilled. So she sat up to look at him, to gauge his reaction, even though she knew she was killing the mood where it stood. He looked so perfect with his swollen lips and hair falling into his eyes and his heavy and serious eyelids and lashes. Her chest pinched. “That wasn’t what I intended.”

His expression flickered, just faintly. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“I just— I think I’m trying to tell you I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” he shook his head. “Don’t. You don’t need to.” His thumb stroked her cheek. He chewed his lip, like he was trying to think of the right words to say. So was she. There were just… simply too many things they hadn’t told each other, too many words to cram into this small space between them, into one night, one weekend. But then he smiled, saying simply, “Consider us even.”

Slowly she let herself smile, let herself believe it. “Okay,” she whispered.

“Not that— not that there was a score to settle, or anything.”

She nodded. “I know.”

And she kissed him, soft and slow, and didn’t bother coming up for air.

Only a few hours later, Anya was watching the first signs of sunrise through her window, bundled up in her blankets and a pair of arms in her bed.

It had been disorienting waking up in here this weekend. But now, Dmitry’s arms were grounding, steady and solid, reminding her that last night had indeed not been a beautiful, delusional dream. The dichotomy of things staying the same and changing all at once.

The mattress creaked when she rolled over. There she found Dmitry already awake. The twin bed wasn’t nearly large enough for the two of them, but their bodies were curved together, all warmth and limbs and hair and bedsheet, and Dmitry certainly wasn’t complaining. He smiled softly, nosing her hairline, his arms still enveloping her in his warmth.

“Hey,” he murmured.

“Hey,” Anya whispered back.

“Merry Christmas.”

His smirk was so contagious. “I, like, completely forgot about Christmas.”

“Really? This was once your favorite time of year, from what I remember.”

“It was.” She could feel him breathing against her forehead, his nose squished against her skin, his heartbeat under his collarbone. She didn’t want her foul mood from the weeks before to spoil how unbelievably happy she was right now, but there was still a bit of sadness in her voice. “I dunno. I’ve been feeling a little Grinch-like this year.”

“Well, you know,” he sighed, pretending to be serious, “I consider the Grinch to be an anti-capitalist hero, so—” Anya snorted, wheezing out a laugh before she could cover her mouth. “It’s true!”

“Stop,” she pushed a palm to his face, because she seriously needed to calm down and quit giggling this early in the morning.

“He saw how consumerism was poisoning the holiday and—”

“Stop it.”

Yeah. She missed this. She missed him so much her heart ached.

Dmitry swallowed, watching her, waiting until she recovered, looking almost apologetic. “I should probably sneak out of here before anyone else in this house wakes up.”

“Yeah,” she said. And then she smiled. “Just like old times.”

He grinned, his eyes softening as he looked over her. He pushed a curl over her shoulder. “Almost.”

Almost like old times. He had spent the night in secret before, he had snuck out in the morning before, either through her window or out the front door before dawn, but they had never woken so very naked and satiated back then.

“I know we never exactly did this before,” Anya started, sighing when he started pressing slow, gentle, featherlight kisses on her skin, starting at her shoulder, “but I’m feeling so much deja vu right now.”

Dmitry snorted, his breath tickling her neck. “Christ, I know.” He sighed. “Remember when I snuck out your window and I sprained my ankle?”

She had to bite back a laugh at the memory. “And you lied and said it was from— what did you say? Soccer practice? Did you even play soccer?”

He was laughing silently against her skin, shoulders shaking, “I think the story changed every time I talked about it.”

“Oh my god,” she had to cover part of her face. “We were so stupid.”

“No, I was stupid. You were…” he pulled his head back, eyes meeting hers again. “You were too smart for me. I wasn’t sure if I could ever keep up.”

He said it lightly, but she could hear the self-deprecation lingering there, years of insecurity. She touched the side of his face. Let her thumb brush his cheek, digging into the dimple cutting into his flesh. “Nothing about you had to change,” she said softly. “You’re perfect.”

His lips twitched, then he tilted his face toward her palm, nuzzling her hand. “When do you go back?”

“Monday,” Anya answered.

“Ah.”

The deadline hung in the space between them, stifling the air. There it was. The thing they’ve been avoiding. Reality.

Her hand trailed down his chest, fingers stroking his collar bone, feeling his steady heartbeat. So she would go back to Paris with her whirlwind schedule and her freedom to live how she wanted and her fancy friends to go out with every week. Her friends who, though fun, didn’t know every corner of her soul. Not the way he did. And there she would lay awake and wonder about the boy she left behind across the sea.

Wait for me, she wanted to ask him. It sat on the tip of her tongue. Wait for me while I make my way back to you. I promise it will be worth it.

But she couldn’t ask that of him. And he wasn’t asking her to stay, promising he would make it worth it, if she did. He wouldn’t ask that of her, either.

In the light she could make out the marks she’d dug into him with her nails last night, little red streaks all over his shoulders. Like she was doing everything she could to cling onto him but he would always manage to slip away. No matter how hard she tried.

Dmitry took a breath. “I know you don’t think you fit in with this town anymore,” he rasped, “but I just want you to know, you’ll always fit in with me.”

Something inside her chest clamped down on her heart and squeezed. She took him in, in all his messy glory, with his hair falling into his eyes from all directions and his marked up shoulders and his longing eyes.

For a minute she thought about it— rephrasing what home meant. Home wasn’t this house for a very long time now. Home was no longer her family, as important as they would always be to her.

But maybe now her home could be him, wherever he was. If that was possible.

Not even with him, but just. The thought of him. The feeling of him. Her fondness for him.

Anya nudged his nose with hers and then pressed her lips to his. She planned on just giving him a peck, but he wasn’t having that, tangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck, angling his head and opening his jaw to deepen the kiss, making her sigh against his cheek.

She was just beginning to forget the idea of kicking him out of her room altogether— because he was so warm and they deserved to stay here half the day, consequences be damned— when the sound of a door down the hall squeaking open startled them both apart. Dmitry was frozen above her while they held their breath. Another door closed, the sound of running water. Anya silently counted the steps before the original door opened and shut again. She loosed a breath. It was just Maria. Who would go back to sleep for a few hours more.

“Okay,” he whispered, resigned, “I really don’t want to get caught.”

She smiled. “I guess.” Still, he made no effort to shift out of bed. “It’ll cost you, though.”

“Oh?” He propped his head on his hand. “How about… I go pick up some breakfast for you from the bakery?”

“You’ll have to get donuts for the whole house, though, or everyone will think you’re playing favorites.”

He pressed one more kiss against her mouth and whispered, “Who says I’m not?”

Anya rolled her eyes. He clumsily rolled off the bed, his limbs too long and lanky for such a small space, and slowly started plucking his clothes from the floor. She was able to get a good look at him now with the light filtering through her window. Even though they had been tangled up together in the most intimate way last night, it had been too dark to really study him, so the sight of his muscly back made her face warm.

“What are you doing tonight?” She asked, pulling the blankets up to her chin.

His arms threaded through his button up. “I dunno.”

“I was thinking I could come see this apartment of yours…”

He grinned, ducking his head, as if the thought made him shy. As if he weren’t standing naked in her bedroom. “It’s not much.”

“Let’s see. Do you have four walls?”

He laughed. “I do.”

“Do you have a bathroom?”

“That too.”

“A bed?”

“Mattress and everything.”

She hummed. “Sounds like enough to me.”

He bit his lip, smiling. “I could make you dinner…”

“Dinner? You cook now?”

“Mhmm.” He smirked. “There’s a lot about me that will surprise you, Romanov.”

She laughed. She would love to call him out on his arrogance, but he had indeed proven himself as a surprise last night, so all she could do was shake her head. “Okay, it’s a date, then. Tonight you’ll borrow me, and—”

“Borrow?” He snorted. “What, like you’re just some library book?”

“You know what I mean!”

He laughed once through his nose, continuing to button his pants. Fond. So, so fond. “I suppose you have some ulterior motives for getting me alone again.”

“Perhaps.” She bit her lip. “What about it?”

He shrugged again. “Just looking forward to catching up, is all.”

There was something soft in his tone, something honest. She watched him quietly while he pulled his sweater over his head, leaving his hair all disheveled. “Dima?”

He met her gaze. “Yeah?” he whispered.

“Do you think you could love me again?”

His eyes softened. She herself didn’t quite understand what she was even asking for, what the right words were, what she wanted. But somehow he did. His throat bobbed, eyes swimming through hers. “I never stopped.”

Something inside her came together, like a zipper that had been stuck now gliding closed and secure and warm. Complete.

Okay. She would be okay.

Anya nodded, giving him a soft smile. “See you in a bit.”

He bent down, giving her a slow, chaste, lingering kiss. “See you soon.”

He expertly tiptoed out of the room, knowing all too well which creaky floorboards to avoid, and his trek downstairs was as silent as ever. Anya sunk deeper into the blankets. Just for the weekend. They could pretend.

Later, when her nieces and nephew were excitedly telling her all of what Santa left them, and her family was talking over one another so loudly no one could hardly get a word in, Anya would catch Dmitry’s eye across the way and they would share a quiet, secretive smile, and his toe would graze her leg under the table. The promise of later. The promise of a beginning.

And maybe, she thought, coming home from now on wouldn’t be so bad.

#anastasia broadway #anastasia musical #anastasia #dimya #my writing #fanfiction #anya x dmitry #smutty saturday #listen #i didn't expect this to go over like. 5k #but here we are #for the girls <3

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roseworth · 1 year ago

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its all about lili to me. she was the only person rose was close to for the first 15ish years of her life, then she dies and rose has no one left except wintergreen who she barely knows but he sort of knew her mom so she stays with him. she hates slade because she blames him for her mothers death, she hates herself because her mother died saving her but she refuses to think about that too hard and directs all her anger toward slade and wade. she cant talk about lili to anyone because a part of rose that shes buried deep deep down blames herself for her death, so its so much easier to deflect and never talk about it. she clings to scraps of hope that her mom is alive because if she is it means she didnt kill her, and the only person shes ever let herself love is still alive

and lili was never fully open with her, she always wanted to protect her and keep her away from danger so there was so much rose didnt know. and once lili's dead rose realizes that there was so much she didnt know and now she never will, so she tries so hard to connect with her because its all she has!!! she avenges lili's death by killing wade multiple times but its not enough and she has to know more about her but now theres nothing of lili's because their home was ransacked and she has nothing left. and rose throws herself into trying to understand her mother. she joins slade--even before he drugs her, even though she hates him--because hes giving her the chance to avenge her mother (again), and lili always had good things to say about him on the rare occasion she actually talked about him, so rose wants to know what lili knew because there had to be some reason that she loved him, and she just wants to understand her. and the drug makes her think less about her mother, makes her want to be more like her father instead of her. but the closest she ever feels to her mother is when slade is carrying her to safety after she gets stabbed in the throat, because maybe he IS kind and caring in the way lili used to describe and she finally feels like she knows the version of slade that her mom talked about. but then slade implants radioactive material in her skull and she thinks lili was wrong about him, but the bright side is now she knows what its like to love slade for what she wishes he was instead of who he is, just like lili did.

but she doesnt know what lili was really like. lili put up a wall when she was with rose because she wanted her to be safe and didnt want her to be involved with her father. so she would always keep her close but never tell her everything, so the person rose knew as a mother wasnt who everyone else knew lili to be, and rose will never know because she refuses to talk about her. but rose IS her mother's daughter. she says in fresh hell that growing up, she knew what traits she got from her mother and just assumed that the rest were from her father. but she doesnt know that she got (some of) those traits from lili too. she says that she imagined her father was "defiant, aggressive, and cunning" because she doesnt know that was her mother. lili never let rose see that side of her because she needed to keep her out of danger, and rose didnt see what lili was like when someone she loved was in danger. rose didnt see what lili was like when rose got kidnapped. and now rose spends the rest of her life worrying about how she's her fathers daughter because she'll never know that she is truly and completely her mothers daughter. all she knows is that the life rose is living was never what lili wanted for her, so she thinks shes disappointing her. and in a way, shes right.

#GOD #dont even get me STARTED on fresh hell #the way lili saving her girls in cambodia can directly parallel rose saving the girls in angelsport #not to mention deathstroke 2016 when she goes to vietnam with no purpose or plan. she just wants to connect with her mother #and she thinks she finally found her moms family in minneapolis. and she thinks she finally has the connection she needs.#just to find out that slade was paying them all along #fuck #i miss lili so fucking much #rose wilson #lillian worth #dc

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sad-scarred-sassy · 1 year ago

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What if Elain and Lucien met before she was made – Part 2

Read part 1 here

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Lucien Vanserra did not understand what had gotten into him.

He had become used to leading a quiet content life, but ever since seeing her, ever since touching her, something had changed. When those fawn brown eyes landed on his, he had felt stranded. Amiss. Like he had somehow lost his way, had forgotten what he was supposed to be doing with his useless, pointless life.

It wasn't that he had ever been too sure about what his life had meant to be like, ever since he lost everything he had resigned himself to serve, to fulfill his duties, to follow orders and go by. He had been content with it, had been okay with the occasional diversions he allowed himself. Not that it had been the same after Under The Mountain, all diversion essentially gone. But he had been fine with just getting by, fighting when he had to, resting when he needed to. Helping Tamlin clear up the Spring Court of the residual trash of Amarantha. He had endured harder times before and had been fine.

Until that day that one of Hybern's more playful lackeys had attacked him inadvertently and had dropped him in the only place that could be considered dangerous for a fae in the mortal lands, and he had met her. Had been saved by her.

His first thought of her had been that she was impossibly beautiful, so much so that it stunned him. That wasn't his usual opinion on any female ever. He obviously could appreciate female beauty and affections but she was the most beautiful... woman he had ever laid eyes upon and it troubled him so. He had never thought that about a female after- after Jes.

But having shoved that thought away and assessed the situation, his second thought about Elain had been that he had to protect her. It wasn't even so much of a thought but a bodily reaction he hadn't been able to rationalize. And when she hadn't shied away from him, had called his name, he thought he had never heard it sound so nicely before.

But ever since that day, ever since having felt the sudden spark at touching her small hand, and having felt the unshakeable pull of wanting his body closer to her body, having his hands on the delicate skin of her ankles, everything in his world had shifted, and Lucien, for the life of him, could not place why.

So he had ignored it as much as he could, he had busied himself, drowning in more work than he could take upon himself and had shoved those thoughts deep inside of him. What use would it make to be thinking about a human girl? A human girl he merely met once? And Feyre's sister, of all people.

He hadn't told her. Had honored Elain's wish to keep it a secret, for whatever reason. He could understand, though. Meddlesome siblings were something universal, it seemed, and it felt somehow nice to have something only he knew, a secret thing only shared with her.

But even with all the work, all the tiresome activities he subjected himself to so that he could stop thinking about her eyes, and her freckled nose, and her pouty pink lips, he could not stop seeing her in his dreams, or in random flashes when he glimpsed a rose, or a lily, or any flower, really. Living in eternal spring did nothing to help his situation.

He could swear he sometimes felt like she was calling him. He could feel it in the wind, in the smell of freshly cut grass, in the sight of the first rays of sunshine coming through his windows. It was pathetic, actually. To think a woman like her would even remember him, let alone be calling him to her. She had seemed so free, so desperately alive, he doubted he had posed any significance in her life.

He was losing his mind.

The long weeks passed and he tried to convince himself that his constant thinking of her was just an outlet for all the stress he had been accumulating, a normal response of his psyche trying to fixate in something beautiful and right, rather than the depressive reality he was shoved into. But a part of him knew it wasn't that simple, and ignoring it was resulting to be useless.

He had tried to stay away. He really did. He had tried to put her behind him. He had even gone to the village to see one of his past lovers, a headstrong but gentle female that had shared a similar need of release as him, expecting nothing more, needing nothing more. But the moment she moved her lips to his, the moment he had touched her hand in that cozy tavern they usually met at, he realized he couldn't do it, he had seen her, he had seen Elain in his mind and could not put her away. He had to apologize and leave, compelled to spend another night alone, thinking about her.

So here he was, back in the mortal lands, pacing outside her house in the dead of night under the cover of some trees surrounding her manor. Couldron boil him. He had left Spring under the pretense that he would survey the border with the human lands, Tamlin had simply agreed, and he had winnowed to where he knew she lived. But now that he was here, and somehow he could feel the closeness of her, he didn't know what to do.

He was going to leave, he had decided this was an awful idea, had turned around and prepared to winnow when a soft voice called him and made his whole body stop short.

"Lucien"

----

Elain Archeron had not been able to sleep that night, and when she had finally grown tired of rolling around in her bed, she had found herself outside in her garden, taking in the chilly night, the smell of dewy grass and jasmine bushes.

She had been thinking about him... again. Lucien, he had told her his name, and she had replayed it in her mind again and again during those long weeks. Her tongue rolling softly, only for her to hear, as if her body was involuntarily calling him. She had thought she was finally losing it.

She sat there now in one of the wooden chairs alone in her courtyard, when everyone in the manor was asleep, thinking about his broad but elegant hands, his enchanting mismatched eyes, his otherworldly beauty, one that she could not find anywhere else, one that dwarfed even Greysen's handsome face. She felt the need to roll his name on her tongue again, felt the need to chant his name as if containing it inside her might actually drive her insane.

"Lucien" She spoke softly, but the sound of his name was enough to make her blush. If anyone could hear her in that moment they would say she was definately insane, sitting in the garden talking to herself. She huffed a short laugh at how hilarious it was. A tale as old as time, the human girl enthralled by the mystical fae that probably could not care less about her insignificant existence, she was a living cliché.

She tasted his name in her lips anyway, a guilty pleasure she could not rationalize. She couldn't help but feel the rightness of it, even if she was not able to place it in any logical thought. The weeks since she had met him had not been the same, as if something in her had awoken, something she hadn't even known had been inside of her sleeping.

She was just about to stand up to go inside when a voice made her stiffen.

"Elain?"

It was low and tentative, masculine but soft. The voice she had not been able to forget through all these weeks. Her heart was hammering in her chest when she snapped her head towards the orange and apple trees surrounding her garden. She saw him then and gasped, bathing under the moonlight, a statue of a male, his long flowy hair shining in a deep red under the cool light. He was looking at her with surprise in his eye, as if he hadn't expected to find her here.

He had come. He had come back.

"Lucien" She spoke again and she could swear she saw him shudder a bit. Suddenly she felt insanely self conscious, looking down at herself in her thin nightgown and flimsy silk robe. She looked up at him again, dressed immaculately, an embroidered navy blue vest, tight cream pants and knee high brown boots. He looked impossibly regal.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" She crossed her arms around her chest, heart still beating loudly, suddenly aware of the situation, looking at her surroundings to see if there was no-one else around. She questioned what exactly he was doing here, in her home, in the dead of night. Had he finally come to steal her away like the other one had done to Feyre? Like every cautionary tale of the fae she had heard since she was a child?

"I-" He said, apparently also realizing his surroundings. "I was patrolling the border and I-" He looked down and clenched his hands awkwardly. He looked up at her again. "I'm sorry for the invasion, I was just trying to check if you... and your family, were doing alright" He said.

Something about seeing him a bit undone, this mountain of a male that exuded power, struggling with his words, made her ease a bit. The familiarity of him, even if she had just seen him once before, overtaking her, making her step up towards him, even if all logic called her to be smarter, he was a stranger after all. Why did she trust him so easily?

"You came to see if we were doing fine?" She said, cocking her head a bit as she saw him stiffen at the steps she had taken towards him.

"Yes, milady" He simply said. She couldn't help but like the way that sounded on his lips, the way it made her feel.

"Under my sister's wishes?" She asked softly, tentatively shortening the distance between them, just letting her body naturally drift towards the pull she felt.

"No" He said, watching her closely, unmoving. She could swear he was also trying not to just run towards her. Was she out of her mind? Imagining things she deep down wanted to believe?

"Under your wishes?" She asked when he didn't elaborate, and she almost laughed when he didn't even word a response, simply nodding his head and straightening when she reached him under the cover of the trees. "Why?" She asked, placing one of her hands on the tree close to her, for comfort and stability.

"These are… dangerous times" He said sharply and she could finally smell his woodsy, masculine scent again. She relished in it, the way it filled her with something she didn't know she had been missing. She noticed his own nostrils flaring, as if he too was taking in her smell in that moment. It made her feel something warm deep inside her tummy, running through her core.

"I thought you would have another reason to come by" She said, tilting her head a bit. He stared at her with those dazzling mismatched eyes and softly cleared his throat.

"Were you by any chance calling my name?" He changed subject, turning it on her and making her face grow impossibly hot. He had heard her?

"Me?" She straightened. He simply watched her with a predator's gaze. She suddenly felt impossibly bare before him.

A soft smirk crept over his lips as he noticed the aggressive blush she could assume had taken over her whole face. She averted her gaze at that, but quickly found it in herself to retaliate.

"Well, maybe I was" She held her chin up towards his towering frame. "Maybe I knew you were around and decided to summon you out of the shadows, acting as if you're some thief in the night" She said, but his smirk only grew more wicked.

"How can you be so sure I'm not some thief in the night?" He said, suddenly leaning his forearm over the same tree trunk she was pressed against. His tall frame towered over her, his smell and warmth intoxicating, filling her senses. Elain again found herself in one of the most scandalous scenarios she could think of. With a fae male leaning above her in the middle of the night, smirking at her like some fiend, eating her up with his gaze.

Her face grew hotter. In fact, her whole body did.

"Have you come to take me away, then?" She suddenly sounded more serious than she had intended. He noticed it, his face relaxing to a more serious stare, eyes suddenly lost in hers.

"Do you want me to?" He rasped, a slightly devious grin curling in the corner of his mouth again. His eyes never left hers, and for a moment she actually considered it, damn her, just simply running away from her small content life, leaving everything to go see the world, things she could only imagine, experiences she could only dream of. She realized they were still looking at each other, still breathing the same air, her chest rising and falling quickly, when she dropped her gaze and stepped out of his reach.

"Funny. Do you find me so careless as to think I would just run away with a strange fae male I just met?" She arched an eyebrow in a teasing way, although the tension between them did not subside.

"I did meet you running around barefoot in the middle of a forest" He crossed his hands behind his back and shrugged a bit. His hair was tied up, but she noticed some strands that had fallen off, moving around his chiseled face as he talked.

"Can't a lady have her moments of liberty in peace?" She crossed her arms again, diverting his intent gaze.

"By all means milady, I am sorry for assuming" He teased softly and she dared to look at him again. "I will say though, I'm usually right about spotting wild things and you-" He assessed her again, as if he could read her like a book. "You struck me as one"

"I'm not such thing" She cut him a glare, but it held no real offense.

"Aren't you?" He said with amusement in his eye and she pursed her lips.

She held his gaze for a moment, even though they were just teasing, there was an undertone of reality in his words, in his assessment of her. She was trying to find it in herself to deny it, to negate the raging feeling of wanting to see more, wanting to learn everything there was to learn. She couldn't.

"You may be right" She exhaled a breath as she turned and looked towards her garden, feeling his body heat at her side, his presence so overwhelming she was having difficulty thinking. "I'm in my courtyard, talking to a strange male in the middle of the night, any proper lady would deem this scandalous" She said.

"And what do you deem this?" He asked, she could still feel his eyes on her, it felt as if he could not, for the life of him, stop looking at her, even for a mere second.

She looked at the ground for a moment, feeling out the question, sensing her response and deciding to simply voice it.

"Exhilarating" She said not daring to look at him. Her heart thrumming in her chest again. For a moment he said nothing. The night sounds filling the air between them. She swallowed as she felt him move closer to her, sliding behind her. What would Nesta say if she knew she was having such conversations with a stranger like some scoundrel in the night? Even worse, with a seductive fae male at that, tempting her to release her wild side, something she had always kept under a tight leash. It was more than enough to make her sister see red.

"Maybe if I ask you to tell me more about yourself-" His voice was rough, breath hitting the back of her ear and neck in a way that made goosebumps rise over her skin. "Then it wouldn't be so scandalous, don't you think?" He finished, and some small, wicked part of her expected him to touch her, even if just her shoulder, her hand. She quickly shut it off.

"Could be" She breathed, turning her face slightly to glance at him. "But only if you also tell me more about yourself" She dared to say.

"What do you want to know?" She felt him lean down towards her exposed neck. His mouth so impossibly close she had to shove that thought away as well. It was one thing to engage in conversation with an interesting individual, even if it happened to be in the dead of night and had the potential of ruining her entire reputation, it was another to have such improper thoughts about them.

Even if she had to shamefully admit to herself, she had never been so attracted to anyone like this before.

"What do you do... for a living?" She asked in an effort to distract herself from that line of thought. She turned around to face him again, needing to see his face and assess him as she knew he could assess her.

"I'm a court emissary" He said, his body remaining close to her, half a step away. She took a look at him, eyes wandering from head to toe.

"Are all fae emissaries so... buff looking?" She blurted and he had to contain a laugh in order to keep quiet.

"It's not a requirement" He said, amusement still present in his face. "I do like to keep myself useful in more ways than one. Training allows me to do that" He looked down at himself following her eyes, then they both met their gazes. "Do you have a complaint about it?"

"No" She said a bit too quick to be casual, his smile broadened, she noticed he had a dimple beneath those scars in his face, and couldn't help but wonder. "How did you... get those scars?" She asked and immediately regretted it, seeing how the dimple disappeared from view, his face hesitating.

"I pissed the wrong person" He cringed a bit, but he seemed to be more concerned about her own reaction than on the memory of it. "It's not a pleasant tale, but one I could tell you some day. Now it is my turn" He said and his eyes travelled around her frame. The prospect of meeting him again in the future gave her a ridiculous flutter in her chest, one she quickly pushed aside.

"What do you enjoy doing, aside from running around in haunted forests?" He asked and she held her laugh. She moved through the trees then, in an effort to dissuade his intent focus on her, but his eyes seemed to relish on her movements, on the way her thin clothes hung from her body.

“I enjoy gardening” She said a bit shyly. “I take pride in it” She concluded, signaling towards the garden behind them. His eyes followed it, quietly contemplating her work, as if he could even see the garden in the dim light. His lips curled in a soft smile.

“That’s very impressive, lady” He said. “I shall like to take a closer look some time”

Elain had the urge to fix her hair behind her ear, not really sure of what to do with her own hands.

“What do you like to do… aside from work” She asked then, caressing her fingers through a jasmine flower blooming.

He followed her closely, watching her with amusement. “I like to lay down in nature”

“I could see that” She teased and he snorted. “What’s your favorite place to do it?” She asked.

He pondered for a moment. “There’s a stream in the court I live in. Its calm, lovely in the morning and during the night, surrounded by fireflies and white lilies”

“That sounds perfect” She said, imagining such a place.

“Would you want to see it?”

“Are you trying to steal me away, still?” She gave him a look and he laughed softly.

“Forgive me for trying” He said, casually striding in front of her, intercepting her like prey, eyes dancing with mischief under the moonlight.

She bit back her smile. “Is it far?” She found herself asking. The question had surprised him a bit, he didn’t seem to expect her to actually be considering it, and if she was honest, neither did she.

“Uhm- just a few jumps- winnows I mean” She assumed he was talking about that transportation magic he had used before.

“I see” She said, thinking about the implications of it. She shouldn’t, she really shouldn’t. But she couldn’t help but be enthralled by the idea. Escaping for a night, seeing something she had never considered seeing before. Her heart hammered in her chest again.

He noticed her hesitation and tried to ease up a bit. “It was a wild proposition, milady, there’s no-“

“Let’s go” She said, determination shining on her face.

“What?”

“Take me there” She repeated, but he still looked at her like he didn’t believe her. “It’s safe right?”

“Yes…”

“And we would be back before dawn, right?”

“Yes-“

“Then take me” She said, stretching out her hand to him. He looked at her small hand. “Show me” Show me things I have never seen before.

The determination in her brown eyes must have sparked something in him, because after that he slid his broad hand around hers, and as she felt that tiny spark in their touch, the spark she had craved ever since the day in the forest, Elain felt the world collapse around them, and just like that, they were gone.

#elucien #i will have to write a part 3 now #the escapism fantasy of elain archeron #elucien what if #elucien fanfiction #human!elain #human!au #elain x escapism #elucien x forbidden romance

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