#they mention more physical features but her ears eyes and hair are the most common ones

[tategaminu]

The books everytime Arya is on page: Arya has black hair and green eyes. Did I mention she's an elf? She's an elf. She has pointy ears like an elf does. Arya has elven ears. Arya has pointy ears. Arya is an elf. Her hair is black and her eyes are green by the way. I hope I mentioned she's an elf. Black hair. Green eyes. Elf.

The bozos in charge of the movie: K

[vlyteng]

Beauty standards and its relation to racism and colourism

I am a film junkie and I adore Japanese films. My love for Japanese films started when I watched a specific movie, which just so happens to be one of the most breathtaking films I’ve ever watched in my life - Helter Skelter. Helter Skelter is a movie that tells the story of a famous actress, Lilico, who has had several cosmetic procedures over her body. Lilico makes life terrible for people around her as she struggles to manage both her professional and personal issues as a result of the adverse effects of her surgery (Letterboxd 2012). It is based on a manga that Kyoko Okazaki wrote and released between 1995 and 1996 (Cherif 2022). The message of the movie is made clear to be depicting the extent we can go to achieve what we deem as "perfect beauty", but how it can lead to an unhealthy obsession with our physical appearance. Throughout the film, the audience will witness Lilico’s fall into an endless, abyssal spiral of depression as she tries to fix the side effects of surgery with, well, even more surgery.

Beauty standards in every culture look different. In the West, the hourglass figure (otherwise known as “slim thicc”) is the goal! Some features that are commonly celebrated and strived for in Western countries are light-coloured eyes, blonde hair, pale skin and small noses. The beauty standard in Asia also has a similar standard but skinny is what most people go for. Obviously, Asians do not have the same genetics as Westerners. If someone frequently consumes beauty content from Western culture, they may be influenced to change their features in some way in order to fit what they think is the “standard of beauty”. Some may think beauty standards are merely just guidelines for people to follow to be seen as more attractive, but I think it goes much deeper than that.

I believe beauty standards are built on the foundation of racism and colourism, discrimination or prejudice towards those with dark complexion. You might think it’s a stretch but hear me out. A good example of this is when we discuss skin tones. Have you ever thought to yourself “Man, my skin is so dark” or “Man, I wish I had a more pale complexion”? Why are we so scared of getting a little tan from the sun? Why do we immediately deem darker skin = undesirable? As a Chinese, why are bigger eyes and double eyelids more adored than mono or hooded lids despite it being the most common outcome for our ethnicity? All these questions point to an underlying distorted perception that we were taught since young and continue to experience in our daily lives. They take the form of seemingly harmless little statements, like when the aunt that nobody likes asks you if you’re going to keep eating those pineapple tarts during Chinese New Year, or when your beautician mentions how perfect you’d look if you just got a little nose lift during your monthly visit to the beauty salon.

All in all, there is no such thing as “perfect beauty” as the definition of it is so different for every single person, everyone has their own version of beauty. Aiming to achieve it is unrealistic and will not only cost you millions of dollars, but also endless amounts of mental strain. I understand that it is easy to fall into the rabbit hole that is insecurity and anxiety over appearances and our bodies. But something I truly believe is that without our body, no matter what it looks like, we will not exist. Your body is constantly trying to take care of itself and we should be grateful for having two arms and two legs, functioning ears and nose, eyes to see the world and a mouth to taste Kyochon fried chicken (yes, I am craving it as I am writing this). To end this, I’d like to dedicate a poem I wrote for an e-book about self-acceptance and to love our body because it is trying its best to keep us alive every day. 

Don't be angry with your body Your arms lift the weight of responsibilities Your legs walk you through life Your eyes see the beauty behind the ugly Your stomach houses butterflies that make you feel alive Your nose lets you smell that wonderful apple pie that you love Your body has been through everything with you it does not deserve your hatred and your anger. - S. Z Tao

References

Cherif, M. C 2022, The Dark Side of Beauty Standards in Helter Skelter: A semiotic analysis, The Artifice, viewed 8 June 2023, <https://the-artifice.com/helter-skelter/>.

Letterboxd 2012, Helter Skelter, Letterboxd, viewed 7 June 2023, <https://letterboxd.com/film/helter-skelter-2012/>.

[daggerplume]

* 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻

repost, don’t reblog !

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

FULL NAME.   Xayah.  TITLE.   The Violet Raven, by some. NICKNAME.   none, though her parents used to call her Zee. rakan calls her all sorts of pet names but those don’t count. GENDER.    nonbinary. PRONOUNS.     she / they.  HEIGHT.    five feet and five inches. AGE.   roughly 185~ though she doesn’t keep track. ZODIAC.   scorpio. SPOKEN LANGUAGES.   common (va-nox/noxian), vastayan (baraashi dialect), ionian

𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

HAIR COLOR.   red, though the shade varies slightly from day to day — she likes to change it. EYE COLOR.   yellow-orange, like a fox. SKIN TONE.   pale. BODY TYPE.   wider hips and a narrower upper body. slightly pudgier than she appears—her usual dress is designed to make her look thinner. VOICE.   here! DOMINANT HAND.   right. POSTURE.   has a bad habit of slouching whenever she’s not specifically minding her posture. SCARS.   a lot of smaller, less noticeable ones in various places from a life of learning combat through trial-and-error. TATTOOS.   only her clan tattoos, which are on her face. BIRTHMARKS.   none. MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S).   the ears. they’re big even by lhotlan standards, and very expressive.

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 !

PLACE OF BIRTH.   Lhradi, in Navori. HOMETOWN.   it didn’t have a name. SIBLINGS.   none, she’s an only child.  PARENTS.   both dead, as far as she’s concerned. 

𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 !

OCCUPATION.   rebel leader, vastayan troublemaker.  CURRENT RESIDENCE.   house 110 in fibonacci, though she spends more time in the woods CLOSE FRIENDS.   none. RELATIONSHIP STATUS.   taken, and definitely not freaking out about not having her boyfriend around. FINANCIAL STATUS.    money mostly obtained by stealing. DRIVER’S LICENSE.   n/a.  CRIMINAL RECORD.   nothing official until she gets caught, though as mentioned above, she’s not above stealing. or starting fights, or vandalism, or public violence, or... VICES.   see above? also enjoys a fair bit of drinking, though she’s not a drunk. and brawling.

𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 !

SEXUAL ORIENTATION.   bisexual. ( slight preference for men. ) LOVE LANGUAGE.   physical touch, primarily; she is a very physical person & expresses her affection through handling more often than not—despite being very touch-averse with anyone who isn’t rakan, or otherwise a very close friend. acts of service, too. she’s not so good with words and doesn’t really value gifts very much. RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES.   she’s very fond of pda and extremely, extremely unafraid of being grossly affectionate in public. also tends to habitually organize for a partner who doesn’t do it themself.

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 !

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG.   login screen theme: x. playlist: x. HOBBIES TO PASS TIME.   she likes to sketch, though she’s not terribly good. she keeps a journal that she mostly uses to make plans and record information and draw maps, but which she also presses flowers in, when she finds ones she likes. LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED.   left. PHOBIAS.   losing people or things that she cares about. also kind of terrified of open ocean. SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL.   higher in some departments and lower in others, but generally she’s fairly confident, esp. in her appearance and her combat skills. VULNERABILITIES.   easy to needle if you know the right places to poke. she has a lot of anxiety and abandonment issues that she usually tries to keep under wraps, unless she’s already close with someone. she hates being touched and has trouble reading when she’s being lied to.

[dhampiravidi]

D&D OC - Renee LeBeau

template from here:

BASIC DESCRIPTION

Full Name: Raen [Ray-in] Li Darkhelm Freevale Age: plot-dependent; late 20s Species: Fey'ri (Fey'ri, Illuskan, Drow, Shou) Gender: Genderfluid (she/they) Sexuality: Bisexual (Biromantic)

APPEARANCE (FC is Janel Parrish)

Raen stands at 5'4.5" (1.64 m). She has a toned frame that is somewhat lithe for her height, and light skin that tends to tan rather than burn in the sun. Her facial features come from her mother, with the exception of her eye color (black sclera with red irises), which comes from her father. She has dark, wavy, chin-length hair, and both her ears (which are pointed) have been pierced multiple times. When she isn't shapeshifting to hide them, her fey'ri/demonic traits are her fangs/sharp canines, her equally sharp (and very durable) black nails/claws, and 4" (10 cm) four black convex horns, the last of which rest atop her head like pillars supporting a roof. Raen wears light armor in the form of a close-fitting top with bracers and hidden padding, relaxed black pants, and dusky leather boots. The fabrics are all in various shades of grey, and they're wrapped in several belts; these are used to distract others from the secret pockets lining her clothes. (Outfit image used is by Julia Kovalyova of DeviantArt.)

PERSONALITY

Raen has always been an adventurous, excitable, and passionate person. In a way, she takes after both of her biological parents. Most people tend to say she reminds them of her dad, Remy, because of her eyes, smirk, natural charm, confidence, and tendency to flirt (for fun or for manipulation). Others say she reminds them of her mother, Haelwyn, because of her face and mannerisms. Some even say she gets her spunk and defensiveness from her other mom, Arenna. Regardless, Raen is her own person. She’s a hedonist who secretly cares a lot about doing the right thing (even if she breaks some rules along the way).

BACKGROUND

Chaotic Neutral; Sorcerer/Rogue (similar to the Arcane Trickster): Raen was born to the Fey'ri Rogue Remy Freevale and the Half-Drow Li Haelwyn. She was raised by both of them, as well as their Dhampir wife Arenna Darkhelm, all of whom had experience as adventurers. The trio had healthy relationships with each other, their child, and their friends in Xavier's Guild--not to mention a lot of money--so Raen grew up fairly happy. She always looked up to her parents, so she put lots of effort into learning to read, write, fight, play cards, and master the spells of her chosen domains. Still, the world is cruel. Raen disliked having to hide her demonic physical characteristics when she went out. On top of that, she saw the wealth gap for what it was. Thievery became an outlet for her anger and a way to get cute clothes. She rarely got caught, as her father, who used to be part of the Grayclaws thieves' guild in Tantras, taught her everything he knew. When she was old enough to make her own way, Raen politely told her parents that she wanted to use her inheritance for adventuring (and managing her own band of thieves) rather than studying at a university. They weren't enthusiastic, but they did accept her choice. She still writes to them...when she has time.

SKILLS

Acrobatics - can cartwheel and scale buildings w/o difficulty Deception - skilled at lying and fabricating emotions Persuasion - good at encouraging others to do her bidding Intimidation - can scare others into acting how she wants

OTHER PROFICIENCIES/LANGUAGE

Tools: Playing Card Set, Poisoner's Kit, Thieves' Tools Spells: of the Trickery and Diabolic domains Languages: Common, Thieves’ Cant, Elvish, bit of Undercommon Weapons: dagger, light crossbow, darts (blowgun)

EXTRA

Elves typically are given a simple, unisex first name at birth. Then, when they reach adulthood, they choose a gendered, more complex first name. Because Raen is genderfluid, she chose to continue going by her given name (though, as someone who is of Elvish and Fey'ri descent, she's hardly lived a quarter of her possible lifespan). Li is her biological mother's last name. Freevale is her father's last name, which was given to him by the man in the Grayclaws who adopted him.

[sinswithpleasure]

First (ft. TWICE's Mina)

[Y/N POV]

"I'm home!"

After a long day of classes over at university, I had finally returned home. Computer Science was not an easy course of study to take, and I usually returned home exhausted every day. I walked over to the fridge, grabbing a cold bottle of water and taking a swig to cool myself down from the walk home.

"Huh, usually Mina greets me with 'Okaeri'... I wonder where she is today."

I sat down at the dining table, resting my exhausted body on the dining chair. I smiled at the thought of my housemate. Sharing this house with her had made the bills so much easier to pay off, and her presence meant I did not have to live alone.

Myoui Sharon Mina's agreement to house with me was through an ad I put out online. I had gone through so many different housemates, and I was ready to give up looking. One was a party girl that kept on bringing guys over to sleep with, and I had walked in on them desecrating my furniture multiple times. Some skipped out on paying their share of the bills. I was starting to get disillusioned with the idea of housemates before she popped around.

Mina had contacted me for an interview through text. She was my last chance I gave myself before resigning to my fate and moving to a smaller apartment. I was expecting another party girl, or someone I would not like instantly. However, when I met up with her, I was instantly blown away with her looks. This woman could easily have featured on any fashion magazine, on the cover, no less. She looked like a modern day princess, and yet, she was just a college student majoring in Dance, and seeking a roof over her head with cheap rent. Mina was nothing short of polite during the interview, and she had laughed when I told her my horror stories of the previous housemates. Throughout the interview, she easily charmed me with her politeness, and her assurance that she was nothing like my previous housemates. While every interviewee I had met promised what she had promised as well, I had a hunch she would stick to her promise.

Mina was also nothing short of what might actually be the perfect housemate. Every time we met in the hallways or in whatever room in the house, she would always greet me in Japanese with a "Good morning/afternoon/evening" with a big smile on her face. She respected all house rules and did her share of the chores, as well as paid her bills on time. This lady was easily the most charming of all my housemates, and it was easy to live with her. Ever the homebody, her only trips out of her room usually was to go to class or to occasionally grab snacks from the fridge or cabinets in the kitchen. Over the months, she loosened up and began to socialise with me more. We bonded over a shared love for gaming and hatred for her many admirers. Many a night was spent killing aliens and raiding dungeons together while cursing out all her admirers. Mina had learnt to read people well from all the boys chasing her for her looks and money through her younger years before college, and it was easy for her to know who was after her for her looks and money. If we weren't gaming together, we were chilling together on the couch watching movies or working on our individual assignments at the table. Point is, she was the best housemate ever, being so easy to get along with, and knowing her limits with the house. She rarely brought anyone over, and if she did, she would get permission from me and clean up after to ensure everyone got the best out of the experience. Did I mention she was loaded? To my surprise, she would easily be able to afford buying her own property, but she refused to spend frivolously. Why waste money when it would be better spent elsewhere on the newest games and more snacks for gaming sessions and movie marathons, or even better, saved for the future?

Spending that much time with her at home slowly led me to develop a crush on her. It wasn't a common occurrence for a housemate to not only be top tier in morals and ethics, but for her to look like the princess of Japan. With her shoulder length ginger hair and a dazzling smile that showed her teeth and gums, along with her bright brown eyes that crinkle with her smile, she was someone that would not be out of place if she was on a painting in a Japanese history museum. Her face was decorated with a number of beauty marks; one on her forehead, one on both her cheeks, one on her nose bridge, another on the left of her nose, one on top of her lips, one below, and one on her chin. Even her body had some. One on her neck, one on her left shoulder, and one on her tummy. These beauty marks, specifically on her face, looked like a constellation in the night sky. She could be doing mundane things like noting words down on a notebook or pouring herself a cup of water, she seemed to execute every action with the elegance of a princess. Every time she looked at me, her hair seemed to fall in place, her side-parted bangs falling nicely to frame the side of her face, covering a bit of her right eye. This would be paired with her dazzling gummy smile or a slight curve of her lips and raise of her eyebrows. She was unhealthy for my heart and I had to try to hide my blush each time I would catch her eye. Knowing her perceptiveness, she probably had already picked up on my crush on her. I could never be sure though, since she had not mentioned anything in the year we've lived together.

"Strange," I muttered to myself, "she's usually home by now. Her classes end at 3pm today. Where is she?" I got up from the chair, wandering over to the hallway that led to both our rooms. Both doors appeared to be closed. "Huh. Guess I'll…"

A faint hiss of breath reached my ears. Maybe it was a figment of my imagination? Before I could dismiss it as so, another breath echoed out into the hallway. That sounded like Mina's breathing… What was she doing? She was home?

I tiptoed my way towards the sounds, each one bringing me closer to my destination. Without noticing, I had stopped in front of Mina's room.

A gasp this time. As my hand reached to knock on the door, I noticed that said door was slightly ajar. While I hesitated to peek in, curiosity won, and I leaned to look into her room.

"What the fuck?" My jaw dropped from shock.

Myoui Sharon Mina lay on her queen sized bed, her ginger hair splayed out, a halo on her pillowcase. Her back was arched, chest pushed out, taut nipples straining the thin T-shirt covering her body. One hand of hers gripped the sheets of her bed, balling them in her fist, as the other…

Her other hand was shielded by her legs, but it was obvious what she was doing to herself, with muffled slick and wet sounds emanating from between her legs. Her shorts were thrown haphazardly next to where she lay on the bed, her panties still around her hips. Both knees met each other as she clenched her thighs around her hand. Her beautiful eyes were squeezed shut, brows furrowed, her bottom lip trapped underneath the bite of her teeth in an effort to muffle whatever sounds her voice would make.

I almost let out a gasp of my own. Arousal shot straight down to my groin, my cock beginning to harden at the sight. Never in my wildest dreams would I expect to physically see my housemate fucking herself with her fingers. Sure, in the year I had fantasized a lot about her during my own relaxation sessions, but those would only remain as fantasies. I was a little bit ashamed to admit that prim and proper Myoui Sharon Mina was the object of a lot of my sexual fantasies. I always imagined her stripping for me, our lips locking and tongues meeting, as we made love with each other, or her bent over a desk while I took her from behind, or if I was having sex with her in missionary position on my bed. I had also dreamed up this scenario before, where it ended up with us having sex with each other. Many a night was spent thinking about her body under her clothes, from her average sized breasts under her T-shirts or sweaters, to her round ass under her jeans, or to her solid abs whenever she wore anything that showed her core muscles. However, never would I have ever thought that this would come true in reality.

"Aaah~..." A moan broke my reverie. Mina had moved her left hand from balling the sheets to cup her right breast over her shirt, kneading the soft flesh. She whimpered at her own ministrations, before pinching her erect nipples over the T-shirt. "Mmmh~ fuck..." She shifted on the bed, panting at the exertions of her right hand between her legs, and the pleasure she was giving herself. Each time she pinched her nipple, she would arch her back a little, before biting her lip and letting out a soft "Mmmf~".

I knew I should retire to my room and leave her alone. This was an invasion of her trust and privacy, and my peeping on her, whether accidental or not, was not something I should be doing. However, I could not will my eyes to tear away from the sight of Myoui Sharon Mina fucking herself with her fingers. While I could not see what she was doing to herself, I could only assume she was circling her own clit through the motions of her forearm. My dick was straining against my jeans now, and I squeezed it to alleviate some pressure. Mina now had swapped to her left breast, and she had stopped biting her lip, opting to just pant in pleasure.

I was sure my underwear was ruined by now, with the amount of pre-cum I was producing. Unable to take the straining, I unzipped my jeans and let my bulge out. I did not want to pull my dick out or jerk off as she could catch me as I caught her, and that would easily ruin our current friendship beyond repair. Shit, this wasn't the dream I envisioned at all…

"Aaaagh~! Fuck it!"

Mina's unusually loud exclamation of frustration echoed out of her room. I looked up from my actions with my pants in time to see her fingers hook under the waistband of her panties and aggressively rip them off her hips. She kept her eyes shut as she raised her hips to allow for herself to remove the offending undergarment. Pulling harshly at her panties, she raised her legs up and flung them to a corner of her room, before yanking her shirt up to expose her breasts. Her legs returned to their prior position, with her thighs clenched around her right hand, circling at her most private of areas.

Another pang of arousal shot to my groin, and I felt more pre-cum flowing out of my dick. Holy fucking shit, Mina was a fucking goddess. As mentioned prior, her average breasts were fitting for her frame, but to see these same breasts naked… they were perky and smooth, and her nipples pert, the areola small. These same nipples were just as taut as they were under the T-shirt, their light brown a nice transition from the honey-fair skin she had. God, she was so fucking hot and I wished she would take me to bed with her. Before I could fully believe in my luck, Mina unknowingly took what might have been her killing shot at my health and well-being.

"Mmmh~ yes~!"

Mina's closed legs from before fell to their sides as she spread herself on the bed. Another rush of pre-cum shot out of my dick as I finally saw Mina's wet pussy for the first time. She was shaved clean, her pink lips spread and glistening with arousal. Mina's fingers were rubbing on her clit roughly, her left hand pinching her nipples directly now. She squirmed and whimpered with each tug on her own nipples, and the sinful words that left her mouth next almost made me moan out loud, had I not covered my mouth quickly.

"Fuck, yes, [Y/N], Aaaah~!"

Mina's middle and ring fingers penetrated her own pussy, as she moaned my name repeatedly. "Mmm~ fuck~ [Y/N]... aaah~ you're so big, so hot, mmmh~" Her fingers thrusted in and out of herself. I could see her drenched fingers each time she pulled out, showing how turned on she was. She angled her hand to allow for the pad of her thumb to rub her clit, and her fingers appeared to curl inside her with each thrust. "Yes! Right there! Mmmf~ fuck!" Her motions seemed to get faster and faster, as she writhed on her bed at the pleasure she was feeling. I gripped onto my bulge, rubbing myself over my briefs. Mina's moaning of my name turned me on so much; my dick was twitching in its confinements. I was barely controlling myself, and I could feel my willpower slowly leaking away. However, I disciplined myself and kept myself from going further than that.

"Oh fuck! Fuck! Shit! That feels so good, fuck~! I'm so close, I'm so close, fuck! [Y/N], fuck, [Y/N], I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum I'm gonna fucking cum on your cock, fuck, I'm gonna- aaAAAH~!"

Mina's hips bucked wildly as she thrashed in pleasure on the bed, her fingers fucking herself through her orgasm. I nearly came in my pants at the sight of her, as her loose hand gripped onto the bed sheets as an outlet for the pleasure wrecking her lustful young body. Mina's body glistened with sweat, her flushed skin wet from the sweat that formed from the exertion of her masturbation. She withdrew her fingers from her pussy, raising them to her eyes as she played with the strings of sticky fluid between said fingers. Mina then put her fingers to her mouth, her tongue darting out to clean them of the juices from her orgasm. The smile on her face depicted the afterglow of her orgasm. Her head tilted towards the door after, her eyes opening slightly as she panted heavily. The same pair of eyes appeared to have met mine, and I darted back to my room before I could verify. Panic coursed through my veins, and as I shut my room door too loudly for my liking, I leaned against the wall, face in my palms. I had no idea how I was going to face her if she really caught me peeping on her…

'Tomorrow's problems for tomorrow's me,' I told myself. For now, I had my issues to solve in the form of my arousal, and what better than a cold shower?

----------

[Mina's POV]

I'd caught [Y/N] peeping on me.

Well… this was mortifying. I'd been loudly moaning his name as I fucked myself and he'd probably watched every second of it.

Shit… his schedule today ends at 4pm… he could make it home in the time it took me to masturbate. How could I forget? Stupid me!

He did seem very happy to watch me though, evident from the hard bulge sticking out of his zipper and the wet spot that formed on his briefs…

How was this now a development in both our lives?

I'd returned home earlier that day, in the afternoon. The stress of the day was overwhelming; my assignment for a choreography was due soon and I still had lots to work on and practice. Furthermore, many other classes I took had assignments due, and I barely had enough alone time to myself as is. I moved to my room, changing from my school outfit to my home outfit, a simple plain white T-shirt and shorts. 'Fuck wearing the bra,' I thought, 'finally I get to be free of it. It's not like [Y/N] returns home soon anyway.'

I made a trip to the kitchen for a cup of water. It was rare to get some alone time at this point of the semester, and the stress was getting to me. As I leaned on the kitchen counter, drinking from my cup, my brain led me down a train of naughty thoughts.

'You're home alone, Mina. [Y/N]'s not here. You're stressed and you haven't masturbated in weeks. What's stopping you now? He doesn't come home early today…'

It was true, I was pent up for weeks and desperately needed a good orgasm. Every day was spent working on my assignments or choreographing something. I needed a release and it had been a while since I'd fingered myself. Heat pooled at my stomach; the need to masturbate had increased tenfold.

I returned to my room, giving the door a half-hearted push, and making myself comfortable on my bed. Rubbing myself over my shorts, I closed my eyes and let my mind wander. My thoughts were a mess at the beginning, but they slowly coalesced into the form of my housemate.

[Y/N] was a solid housemate. Ever the respectful man, he was never rude and unpleasant to anyone he knew, and he made it a point to be especially polite to any service staff he had the pleasure to meet. Every time I went out with him to restaurants or diners, the waiters or waitresses always received the utmost respect from him, and if he could tip them, he could. 'They are doing their best, and I'm sure any bit helps' was his reasoning when questioned. He cared for me a lot, always offering me a listening ear and advice when required, and I will never regret my decision to ask him to cuddle with me once when I was really down in the dumps. He became my best friend and my rock within the year we've lived together, and it wasn't difficult to end up crushing on him. He was able to lead me through my indecisiveness and take my hand through so many issues I'd face, and he knew how to be playful and have fun, such as dissing my many admirers or any stupid characters in movies in humorous ways. This man was my ideal type.

As I felt my arousal grow at the thought of [Y/N], I thought of all the times I saw him shirtless at home. As if it wasn't enough to be my ideal type of man already, being able to lead me and be playful and mature when required, he was lean, fit, and tall. I'd seen him return home after going for jogs, or when he'd work out at home. His body, shining with sweat, droplets cascading down his broad shoulders to his defined chest, running over his beautiful six-pack abs… His thick biceps and triceps…. This man was not built like a bodybuilder; I know my descriptions make it seem like he was one but he was just one sexy lean and fit man. I wonder what he packed between his legs...

My thoughts wandered to the times I've seen him flushed and panting after the exertion of workout, and I wondered if he'd look and sound the same if he was flushed and panting from jerking his cock… I imagined him lying on his bed, jerking his cock. Fuck, I was getting so wet, and there wasn't enough stimulation over my shorts…

At this point, I was breathing a little heavier from the pleasure coursing through my veins. I raised my hips, pulling my shorts off my hips and haphazardly flinging it to the side of the bed. My right hand returned to my pussy, rubbing it all over my panties. My nipples had hardened from arousal over the course of my ministrations and they were now tenting the loose tee I had on. My other hand gripped the sheets, seeking an outlet with the pleasure I felt. Rubbing my clit over my panties felt really good, but I hungered for actual contact. Slipping my hand under the waistband of my panties, I sought out my clit. The first contact of my fingers and my clit led me to buck my hips involuntarily, letting out an "Aaah~". My knees knocked against each other as I clenched my thighs around my hand.

As I rubbed circles around my clit, I imagined [Y/N]'s fingers on my pussy. I imagined his fingers rubbing my clit the same way I was now, as he leaned over me shirtless, lowering himself to bring his lips to mine. I bit my bottom lip, hissing in pleasure, as I imagined him licking at my lips and meeting my tongue with his, frenching me as he pleasured my pussy just the way I liked. God, this fantasy was making me so wet; I felt my juices flowing out of my naughty pussy and wetting my fingers. If this carried on, I'd surely end up wetting my underwear.

My fingers kept circling my clit as I arched my back, pushing my nipples against the thin material of my T-shirt. "Aaah~ fuck~" I moaned, my fist balling the sheets under me. I bit my lip again, keeping my vocal outlet to hisses and releases of breath. I kept circling my clit, refusing to give in to the temptation to play with my own breasts.

In my mind, [Y/N] had stopped frenching me and had turned his attention to my neck. I imagined his tongue running a line from my collarbone to my neck, before he bit onto my earlobe. I imagined him whispering to me, "You're mine now, Mina. All mine…" I writhed on the bed at the thought, leaning my head to the left, exposing my neck to the [Y/N] in my fantasy. As he left butterfly kisses down my neck, I imagined him pulling back up and asking, "Ooh, what's this?" as he reached for my right nipple. I released the tightly balled sheets from my iron grip, timing my movements with my fantasy. Imaginary [Y/N] tugged on my nipple, fondling my right breast over my T-shirt. I could not resist the moans that left my lips, and I let the fantasy run wild as I rhythmically tugged on my nipple, my fingers now teasing the entrance of my pussy, coating my fingers in my fluids.

"Mmmf~ fuck~" The wet, slick sounds of my fingers playing with my pussy echoed in my room, as I prepared to penetrate myself. I was very pent up now, as I imagined myself stripping naked to let imaginary [Y/N] fuck my slutty pussy with his hard cock. I couldn't take my own teasing any longer.

"Aaaagh~! Fuck it!" I hooked my thumbs to the waistband of my panties, frantically pulling them off myself. Pulling up my shirt to expose my bare breasts to the cool air, I began to fondle myself, ignoring the volume of my moans. I spread my legs wide, letting the [Y/N] in my mind see how wet I was for him. At the same time, I circled my clit for a short while more before penetrating myself with my middle and ring fingers, imagining a naked [Y/N] penetrating my wet pussy with his hard cock. I moaned his name out loud at the pleasure from my fingers. My pussy sucked my fingers in, squeezing them in a vice like grip. My tight pussy refused to let my fingers go, and I released a loud exclamation and moan of [Y/N]'s name. I was so fucking wet now and wished [Y/N] was fucking my pussy for real.

"How does my cock feel in your pussy, babe? How does it feel having me fuck your wet slutty pussy?" I began to thrust my fingers in my pussy, my other hand gripping my breasts hard, mimicking the imaginary [Y/N] fucking my slutty body. "Mmm~ fuck~ [Y/N]... aaah~ you're so big, so hot, mmmh~," I moaned out, "you fuck me so good, so fucking good~ aaah~ I need more of your cock~"

I angled my hand to be able to both thrust in my pussy and rub my clit directly. "Yes! Right there! Mmmf~ fuck!" With practiced ease, my fingers rubbed the rough patch on the front of my pussy on each thrust, and it did not take long before I was on my way to orgasm.

I could hear [Y/N]'s gruff voice in my ear as I worked my way to orgasm. "You're mine, Mina. I'm gonna fuck you until you cum on my cock, and I'm gonna fill your pussy with my cum. Take my cum, slut." Imaginary [Y/N] began to pound my pussy as I simulated his thrusts through the use of my fingers. My pussy got tighter and wetter with each thrust, each tug of my nipples fraying the tense rope keeping me from falling over the edge. I was so close, so fucking close… I needed to cum hard...

"Oh fuck! Fuck! Shit! That feels so good, fuck~! I'm so close, I'm so close, fuck! [Y/N], fuck, [Y/N], I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum I'm gonna fucking cum on your cock, fuck, I'm gonna- aaAAAH~!"

My pussy squeezed my fingers within as a rush of fluid sprayed onto my fingers and palm. My hips bucked uncontrollably as I carried on thrusting through my orgasm to prolong the pleasure, my free hand dropping back to the sheets and gripping them as I writhed in pleasure, riding out the orgasm I desperately needed. My tight pussy finally relaxed enough for me to pull out, and my lust-addled thoughts brought me to bring my fingers up to let me taste my own cum. I licked my own juices akin to my favorite ice cream, short licks harvesting my cum from my fingers into my mouth. I smiled at how naughty I was, imagining my lovely housemate railing my slutty body, wet and ready for him to fuck, fingerfucking myself to him, and then tasting my own cum. As I lay exhausted on my bed, I made myself comfortable, opening my shut eyes to catch eye contact with [Y/N], peeking through the crack in my open door, squeezing his bulge that stuck through the zipper of his jeans, the wet spot evident on his briefs.

[Y/N] darted to his room straight after, and I could not believe he had just watched and heard me fucking myself while fantasizing about him. Again, I was very mortified. How could I forget he came back early today??

I had so much to think about now… what do I do and how can I face him for dinner tonight?

Flashes of [Y/N]'s bulge whizzed past my mind again, sending a new wave of arousal down to my pussy. Fuck… what do I do now? Groaning in embarrassment, I divested myself of my tee, wrapping myself in a towel, grabbing clean clothes, and going for a shower.

----------

[Y/N's POV]

The cold shower did not help.

Throughout my shower, I was painfully hard. Every time I closed my eyes, I could hear Mina moaning my name, see her fingers thrusting into her wet pussy, the slick sounds of her arousal ringing in my ears, and the visual of her arching her back, her face frozen in a broken scream, hips bucking wildly as she fucked her own pussy through orgasm, and her naughty smile as she licked her fingers clean.

I sighed in resignation at my current situation. It was clear that I'd have to deal with this issue myself over the next few days and try to maintain a normal relationship with Mina. Opening the door to the bathroom while drying my wet hair, I met Mina's wide brown eyes staring back at me, her bare arm reaching out for the door handle. Looking down over her body, I gasped in shock. Mina had styled her messy hair a little bit, but she was still visually sweaty and sticky from her earlier exertion. However, she was clad in nothing but a towel, her other arm carrying her fresh clothing to change to. My eyes roamed over her body; bare shoulders exposed, the smooth skin still a little flushed, yet so desirable. Her defined collarbones next, then down her bare arms, my eyes darting to her chest and down her torso, to her bare legs. I felt myself grow hard as I stared at the hint of cleavage above her towel, then to her bare legs, swapping between both parts of her body. I looked back up at Mina's face, which was coloured red by a blush. The constellation of moles on her face shone to my eyes, which trailed down each mole before locking on her brown eyes.

She was a work of art. Her parents' masterpiece. Not only was she such a pleasure to be friends with, she was (very) easy on the eyes, and her body was downright fucking sinful. God knows the things I'd do to get to bed her…

"[Y/N]?" Mina's soft voice snapped me out of my daydreams. Slapping a hand over my eye, I exclaimed out my apologies, pulling the door open and letting her in, before running out of the bathroom back to my own room.

----------

[Mina's POV]

I knew I had [Y/N] in the palm of my hand.

I knew what I was doing wearing only a towel. I knew he would go for a shower straight after, hearing the bathroom door close straight after.

He peeped on me. I wasn't angry that he did, after all, this was a bit of a fantasy of mine and it was turning me on so much knowing he watched me fuck myself thinking of his cock in my pussy. However, he peeped on me, and it was only fair for me to use the same body he peeped on to tease him.

I want to push him to his limit. How much of me can he take before he masturbates to me like I did to him?

[Y/N] has a moderately strong moral and ethical code. On a night where we were both drinking, under the influence of the liquid courage, I quizzed him on what he would do if he caught a girl masturbating to him. I'm sure it put a lot of thoughts to his head, but he had a genuine and serious look on his face when he told me he would not take advantage of or touch himself thinking of it. Those were her private times and if he came across it, he would try his best to ignore it as much as possible, though he did admit that if it really happened, he would not be able to resist watching…

Lesser men probably would have taken advantage of the girl in such a vulnerable state.

He was so cute, embarrassed yet trying to give me a proper answer while attempting to subtly check out my body. It was clear who the girl in his mind's eye was.

Oh yes, his feelings. Clear as day. I wanted him to confess first though. I never got the courage to. :(

Well, everyone has their weaknesses. Lord knows if I found him masturbating to me, I'd watch him too...

I giggled as I turned on the shower. He wouldn't know what awaited him. After all, everyone had their dirty desires deep down, and innocent shy homebody Myoui Mina also had her own perverted desires, and that involved teasing and seducing her sexy housemate until he broke, ultimately leading him into her open arms and into her bed.

As I lathered myself in soap and gave myself a good clean scrub, I thought back to earlier, when I caught eyes with [Y/N]. I focused on his bulge sticking out of his zipper and the wet spot of precum at the tip. He was so turned on by me and my body… My clit throbbed and I felt myself get wet again.

'I guess this is round two for me,' I thought, as my fingers reached down to my pussy again.

"Mmmf~"

----------

[Mina's POV - Post Shower]

Ah, what a relaxing shower…

I walked over to the kitchen, hearing the sizzle of a hot pan. I carried on drying my wet hair, walking into the kitchen. "Hey [Y/N], good evening," I greeted with a smile. [Y/N] seemed to jump at my voice, looking anywhere but at me, his skin flushed. "Ah! Err… good evening Mina, dinner's almost ready." I smirked, walking over to him as he turned back to the pan, one hand nervously scratching at his neck.

"Yaaah~, why're you so red? Are you ill?" I grabbed [Y/N]'s hand, pulling him to face me before putting my hand to his forehead. "No, you're fine…" I pouted, whining and shaking to act cute for him, "nnnhhh~, you're not looking at me when I talk to you. What's wrong?" I pinched both his cheeks and pulled him to look straight into my eyes as I puffed my cheeks, pout still in full force.

I thought it was impossible for [Y/N] to get any redder. I was quickly proven wrong as he froze for a short while, before quickly darting out of my grasp to attend to the sizzling pan. I whined again, "Oeiii~ reply me reply me reply me reply meeee~" as I poked his arm rhythmically.

"N-nothing, Mina, I'm okay…" He sounded so shaky. I laughed, poking his cheek and leaving to hang up my towel and get ready for dinner. "Tease ya~"

As I hung up my towel, I internally squealed at how cute he was being flustered. I would have never been brave enough to do this, but circumstances now had clearly changed, and I had power over him… the smile on my face quickly turned devious. I would tease him even more soon…

----------

[Y/N POV]

Mina was killing me. She was out for my blood.

Not only was it bad enough to have the image of her nubile and supple naked body burnt into every corner of my mind and the sound of her orgasm ringing in my ears, she came to the kitchen in another clean oversized tee and shorts. Although this wasn't any different attire at home in the past year, knowing that this was the most comfortable homewear to her, the fact that I knew what she looked like under those layers and how she sounded in her most intimate and vulnerable of times, I could not help but feel a deep lust for her that I had to fight to control. I'd been painfully erect for a while now and I clearly needed to quit thinking about it. To make things even worse, her hair was wet and a little messy still, and a Mina with wet hair and bareface was even worse for my health than a made up Mina was.

I refuse to masturbate to her. She asked me once about what I would do if I caught a girl masturbating while thinking of me. I don't know if she was asking me because of a lack of inhibition due to the alcohol we were drinking, or if it was out of a burning curiosity. She was particularly eager to know my answer though. I told her that I would try my best to ignore it and leave, but… I had to admit I probably would fail and watch…

At that time, I was already deep in crush with her, and my mind instantly wandered to imagining her on her bed fingering herself to me. I could not control myself from checking her body out before answering, and while she adorned a gentle smile as she waited patiently, her eyes twinkled with mirth. Visions of her with a hand between her legs, her grinding her pussy on a bed frame, her arching her back in orgasm, her pussy gushing as she bucks wildly, streams of cum squirting out and forming puddles on the floor… I had to fight these thoughts to answer her quickly before it started getting weird.

I invaded her privacy. It was not right for me to act on the events I had viewed. I knew if she did not know that I had seen what she was doing, I was technically in the clear… and this current notion of not acting on the visuals of her was probably hypocritical, as I had clearly spent many nights in the past year bringing myself to orgasm through imagining her beautiful body...

I did not know what to do with myself.

"Hey [Y/N], good evening."

I felt so embarrassed jumping at the sweet sound of her voice. "Ah! Err… good evening Mina, dinner's almost ready." I couldn't look at her for longer than a second.

"Yaaah~, why're you so red? Are you ill?" She pulled my arm, getting me to face her with her left hand, and raising her right, landing the knuckles of her fingers to my forehead. "No, you're fine…" She began to pout, sending my heart rate up. Stomping her feet, she whined and shook herself, swaying my arm with both her hands on my left wrist. "Nnnhhh~, you're not looking at me when I talk to you. What's wrong?" She pinched both my cheeks, then squished my face in her hands. She locked eyes with me in a mock glare, her cheeks puffed out akin that of a chipmunk or squirrel, and the same pout from earlier still being weaponized against me.

How could I look at her? I was so ashamed that I peeped on her. Furthermore, all I could think of was that the fingers on my forehead were the same fingers that were in her pussy and fucked her to satisfaction, and the same fingers she licked her orgasm off of.

I leaned a bit into her touch, feeling the cold of her hands on my cheeks. The aroma of her buttermilk body wash enveloped my senses, the only sound audible being my heartbeat. I could feel the heat of my face, and I felt so shy and uneasy in her hands. She'd never initiated this type of skinship with me before, and her hands were so smooth, her aroma so intoxicating, and she looked so adorable with puffed cheeks and pout on her face.

"Oeiii~ reply me reply me reply me reply meeee~" She poked me in the arm repeatedly. I felt faint. The pout never left her face and her high-pitched cutesy voice made her so much more lovable...

How could someone so sexy be so adorable?

"N-nothing, Mina, I'm okay…" Fuck, I sounded so unsure of myself.

She giggled, her eyes evidently showing her amusement and mischief. "Tease ya~." She poked my cheek, exiting to the balcony to hang up her towel.

--

Mina wasn't done with me.

Dinner was so awkward together since I had been shocked into silence from today. I couldn't even take glances at Mina without a mix of arousal, shame, and shyness. Every time my eyes met Mina's, she would smirk at me.

"[Y/N], are you okay? You're so shy today, did something happen? Hehehe"

… was that a hint? Did she see me?

No, no, no.

No no no no.

There's no way.

I blushed redder.

"You can tell me anything, you know?" She giggled again, a coy smile curving her lips. "I'll try to help you just as you've… helped me…"

My cock strained against my shorts.

Her tone seemed to hint to me that she knew of my viewing of her, but her smile had become half coy and half genuine. I did not know what to feel.

"Okay, thanks Mina."

Dinner was uneventful after as we both ate our fill.

Everything that had transpired today kept replaying in my mind. I really needed to sleep over today. I rose from my chair, getting ready to clear up and wash the dishes.

"[Y/N]!" I felt Mina come from behind me, her arms wrapping around my torso in a back hug. She embraced me tightly, tiptoeing to reach my ear, whispering to me, "Thank you for dinner today, hehe." She squeezed a little tighter.

I could feel her soft breasts pushing against my back. Her hot breath at my ear gave me a shudder, her lips nearly touching my ear. Her scent once again enveloped my senses, and I leaned back into her touch a bit. "Ah! Y-you're welcome, Mina."

I could hear her smile, and next thing I knew, I could feel her soft lips land near my nape, just above my collarbone. I audibly gasped, another shudder running through my body. I whipped around, stumbling backwards a bit away from Mina, my left hand reaching up to the spot she had just left a kiss on. Her lips were puckered slightly, slowly morphing into a smile. "Good night, [Y/N]." She turned around, skipping from the kitchen back to her room.

She was seducing me and I had to shamefully admit it was working.

I blushed. Her boobs were really soft.

----------

[Mina's POV]

In the safety of my own room, I jumped onto my bed, squealing into my pillow. [Y/N] was so cute!!! I was out to fluster him with just words but I ended up probably turning him on and getting to finally hug and kiss him like how I would in my daydreams.

This man was so turned on during dinner. I did not intend to hug him, but I had a rush of confidence and decided to follow my heart, and I could feel his shudders with my breath on his ear and my kiss on his neck. In my hug, I made sure to squeeze him tight, and I'm sure he felt my chest on his back… I hope he liked that.

I'm so happy he liked what I did today.

--

I woke up the next morning, a large smile on my face. Picking up my phone, I viewed the notifications from last night and the early morning.

Text from [Y/N]: Hey Mina, I'm going to school for a consultation session. Will be back at 12pm.

It was 10am now, and on a Friday. I had no classes on a Friday, and neither did he. Tonight was our gaming night, and… now I had three days to break his resolve.

He was my prey now, and I'm determined to get what I want.

Getting up from my bed, I stretched upwards. I had a really good few days to sleep in, and a few days to try to seduce [Y/N]. What's not to love about the weekend?

Heading to the bathroom, I passed by the wall mirror hung up in the hallway. God, I looked good this morning. I had slept the night prior in a thin T-shirt and boyshorts, forgoing the bra for comfort, of course. Sure, my hair was messy from sleep, but I knew for a fact I looked really good today. Snapping a few pictures with my phone, I smirked to myself. I couldn't help but think, 'It's not every day I feel this good, why not take more pics of my body?' Raising my shirt to reveal my breasts, I bit onto the hem of my shirt as I snapped a pic. I then took off my shirt, snapping more pics of my bare chest, before stripping bare and taking more photos of my nude body. I looked so hot. 'Maybe one day I could send these to [Y/N],' I thought, 'Investment.'

Putting my clothes back on, I proceeded to the kitchen for breakfast

--

"I'm home!"

I rose from my place on the couch, calling out "Okaeri". As [Y/N] walked into the living room, I stretched upwards, smiling in content at the comfort. When I opened my eyes, [Y/N] was furiously blushing once more, and his eyes were locked onto my chest.

Oh right, I'm not wearing a bra.

Well, I didn't plan this… but sure, I'm gonna make use of it.

"Like something you see~?" I swayed my hips a bit as I made my way to him. Pulling my shirt down a bit to show my cleavage, I bent down a little as I looked him straight in the eye with a smile. I could see him short circuiting; his eyes were locked on my boobs, and he might have actually forgotten how to breathe. [Y/N] shook his head, looking away while pulling my shirt up for me. "You can't do this, Mina! A lady shouldn't be doing this!" Such a cutie, flustered and horny at the same time.

"Nnngh~, why not?" I turned up my cuteness, hugging his arm and pulling it right between my breasts. Coy smile in place, I locked eyes with him, seeing him redden. "Mina, you're not usually like this. What's gotten into you?" I smirked, tiptoeing to reach his ear. "Maybe… I want you to watch me," I whispered. [Y/N] recoiled in shock, out of my grasp, but I just winked at him, pushing my hair up with my left hand, sultrily whispering once more, "Only look at me."

[Y/N]'s eyes were still switching between my face and breasts, and I was sure he could see my nipples tenting the T-shirt. His eyes travelled down to my boyshort panties and smooth milky legs, then to my thigh gap. I was starting to get horny from the pure lust displayed in his eyes as he checked out my body.

I was riling him up as much as he was riling me up, and I loved playing with him like this. Sure, maybe I might be acting very slutty right now, but I know that he wouldn't give in to me so easily, and I want to break his resolve before I take him. I want him to want me as much as I wanted him yesterday, and I want to see him cum for me while moaning my name as he jerks himself off.

I would have never done this if I did not know how much he enjoyed watching me fuck myself to him, but with how turned on he was and how he feels about me, both romantically and morally, I think I'm not going to care too much about image…

"My eyes are up here, [Y/N]," I drawled, "Unless you want me to show you more~" As I prepared to strip myself of my shirt, he grabbed my hands and pulled my shirt down. "NO! Nonono, Mina, that's fine, that's fine."

So red. So flustered. So cute. So… vulnerable.

I giggled. "Come on, let's get lunch! What do you wanna order?"

--

I could feel [Y/N]'s eyes roam over my body throughout the afternoon. I made sure to sway my hips a bit more when I walked, stretch more to show my chest, and show more of my legs to him. God, his lustful eyes when he thought I wasn't looking… I could feel myself getting bolder as he watched me.

Maybe I've got an exhibitionist kink… but only for him.

I want him to look at me more…

I snuggled up next to him, feeling him stiffen. He shifted in his seat, unsubtly arranging the pillow covering his lap. "Hehe, you're so stiff… is there something wrong?" He averted his eyes from me, a restless drumming of his fingers tapping a rhythm into the pillow. "No, Mina, nothing's wrong…" He trailed off, as if uncertain of his own answer. Then, in a move of confidence, I straddled him, kneeling over the pillow on his lap. "Then why won't you look at me?" I pouted, resting my hands on his shoulders. He turned to me, before snapping his head to the left again. "Mina! What-?! No, no, stop!" Grabbing his face with my hands, I turned his head to face my eyes. "You can look, I don't mind~"

[Y/N] seemed to have overheated. I giggled, getting off him. "I'm gonna go shower, enjoy yourself!"

----------

[Y/N's POV]

Mina was making it really hard for me not to jerk off to her.

She probably knows I saw her.

"Maybe… I want you to watch me"

"You can look, I don't mind~"

Coming home to an essentially almost naked Mina was a very… welcome surprise. A braless Mina only in a tee and panties was a dream I'd had for ages. Furthermore, she made sure to get her body in contact with mine, and give me the most amount of time to check her sexy body out.

God, her nipples tenting her shirt and that fucking thigh gap… I just wanted to rip her clothing off and fuck her pussy until she squirted all over the floor and I filled her hole with my cum.

I couldn't stop looking at her nipples, her legs, and that juicy ass in her boyshorts. She was quickly eroding my self control, and I really needed to rub one out soon… To make things even worse, she straddled me, giving me an eyeful of her body and the vision of what it would be like if she rode me. My resolve was quickly eroding, and it hadn't even been 24 hours since I watched her.

Mina's deep "You can look, I don't mind~" rang in my mind once more. I shook my head at the intrusive thought. I really wanted to keep looking, but I didn't feel like it was right to do so. This wasn't the usual Mina I was living with, it felt like this was Sharon Myoui instead, the more confident and sexy version.

Myoui Mina and Sharon Myoui were two sides of the same coin. Mina was the soft spoken homebody that giggled at the ending of spoken sentences, the girl that fluttered her legs when she was elated, waddled like a penguin when she walked, would gush and coo at how cute penguins and dogs were while "vibrating" by jumping and alternating between both left and right feet, and whose eyes would turn into crescents when she smiled her gorgeous gummy smile. This Mina was dorky and usually would be in the background doing something hilarious and cute.

Sharon, however, was the side of Mina when she got serious, when she was determined to obtain something she wanted. Sharon was basically the 'leader' part of Mina, when she took charge and made things happen. This side of Mina appeared if she was put in a leadership role, and she led with efficiency and high standards. This Mina was blunt and determined with endless fire and desire to succeed, and… this was the hottest Mina. She intimidated and aroused me a lot with this facet of her personality, and I… I would bottom for her if she came for me like that. This Mina knew what she wanted, and she knew she would get exactly what she wished for and how to obtain that success.

Now that she had locked the Sharon Myoui facet of her personality to me, I knew it was only a matter of time before I would give in. She'd given me a smug smirk as she left for her shower, and I basically just wet even more of my ruined briefs.

I refuse to jerk off to her.

My thoughts were interrupted by Mina calling my name, waving a hand in front of my eyes while bent to keep eye contact with me.

Oh fuck, she did this on purpose… a hoodie and boyshorts only? And the hoodie is unzipped enough to show a lot of her cleavage? Is she trying to flash me?

Mina smiled her crescent eye smile, no gums this time. "Ah, there we go. You were quite distracted. What were you thinking about?" Her eyes twinkled with mirth as she smirked, seemingly knowing that her giving me and eyeful of her cleavage was causing me to overheat once more. "I'm gonna cook dinner, what do you want?" Mina asked, tilting her head to the right. Before I could give her an actual answer, my mouth moved quicker than my brain could filter. "You."

Oh fuck. Fuck. What did I just say?

Mina's usually soft brown eyes were now hardened with lust and desire. She straightened up, once again kneeling on the couch and straddling me, a leg on either side of my thigh. I gripped the cushion on my lap hard, a rush of arousal shooting straight to my hard cock. Fuck, it hurts… straining against my pants for so long did not feel good at all. She had the hood of her hoodie up when she first greeted me, and now that she was on top of me, she had raised her left hand to push the hood off her as she flicked her hair back. She bit her bottom lip and sank onto the cushion as I quickly retracted my arms to avoid touching her. Her weight fully rested on the cushion as her arms snaked around my neck and she shifted to keep level eye contact with me.

"Oh," she breathed, "are you sure?" Her intense gaze seemed to pierce into my very soul. She bit her bottom lip, grinding down on the cushion in a slow circle, her actions causing the cushion to rub on my cock pleasurably. A whimper escaped my lips at her burning gaze, her lust and animalistic desire to consume her prey evident, and the pleasure from her essentially grinding directly on my cock. One hand of hers slid down to the zipper of her hoodie, then she slipped the zipper down enough to show the valley between her breasts and the lack of a bra.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry!" I pushed Mina off me onto the couch, as I rotated and leapt off. I caught a glimpse of Mina's confused face turning into disappointment as I sprinted into my room and shut the door, sinking to the ground in embarrassment. Oh wait… I left Mina there. In disappointment. 'I have to fix that immediately', I thought, as I opened the door to my room.

"Mina I do want you, you're fucking hot as hell but not like this, I'm so sorry!"

Fuck, what was I saying?

Slamming the door shut, I winced, then rushed to fill the silence of my room with music.

'Ding!'

I looked at my mobile phone. Myoui Mina has sent you a message.

I opened the private chat we had, and threw my phone away in shock.

Mina had sent a picture of herself wearing the same hoodie, and only the hoodie. She sat on the couch, spreading her legs open to show her glistening pussy. Her hoodie was spread open to show her breasts and pert nipples.

Myoui Mina: This could have been yours if you'd just let me fuck you.

'Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!'

I had to look. A whole set of pictures.

The next picture consisted of Mina in the same position, but her free hand spread her pussy lips wide open for the camera.

Myoui Mina: Look at how wet I was for you.

Another picture - Mina now sent a picture of her fingers, wet strands of fluid stuck between said fingers.

A video now.

"Aaaaah~" Mina, in the video, was fucking herself furiously with her fingers on the couch. "Fuck~ [Y/N]~ you feel so fucking good~ fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna- [Y/N]~"

Mina's scream of pleasure was accompanied by the gushing of fluids from her pussy. Her free hand rubbed her clit hard, prolonging her orgasm. Squirt after squirt of her juices shot out of her orgasming pussy, the sound of the liquid splashing all over the floor.

A final voice note.

"I could've squirted all over your cock, [Y/N]. It's a shame I had to fuck myself to an orgasm… I wish you'd been the one to fuck me to an orgasm before filling my slutty pussy with your cum. Think about that, [Y/N]. You could've made me cum screaming your name just like I did in the video…"

--

I could not sleep.

Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was Mina grinding on the cushion on my lap, Mina biting her lips, Mina staring at me with pure lust and desire, Mina's pink pussy, shining with arousal, Mina fucking herself on her fingers, Mina squirting all over the living room screaming my name.

How was I going to sleep now?

--

Mina's soft voice. "Oh, are you sure?"

Mina was grinding on my lap again, as she unzipped her hoodie to show me her breasts. "Look at me, babe." She pulled the hoodie off her shoulders, letting it slip off and pool around her forearms and waist, exposing her beautiful breasts for my viewing pleasure. She grabbed my hand, placing it on her left breast. "Touch me."

I fondled her breast, kneading and squeezing it as moans of pleasure left her lips. Mina then brought a hand to the back of my head, pulling me into a torrid kiss. When we broke for air, I bent down to suckle on her right nipple while I pinched and pulled at her left, causing her to grind down harder, which led me to groan at the increased sensations down below. Mina bent backwards, allowing me easier access to her breasts, as she stroked my head, whispering, "Good boy, that feels so good~ mmmh~"

"Stop." I looked up at her in confusion, as she got off my lap. Slipping both thumbs under the waistband of her boyshorts, she pushed them off. Strings of her arousal clung to her pussy and her boyshorts. As she let her underwear drop, she also pulled off the hoodie around her forearms, dropping it on the floor, leaving her naked in front of me.

She straddled me once more, pulling the cushion on my lap away. "Look at how wet you've made me, baby." Her voice was deeper than usual, her lust and desire evident in the breathy tone of her voice as her fingers spread her glistening pussy open in front of my eyes, while she leaned back, placing an arm behind her to support herself. Her fingers moved up to circle her clit, as she smiled slyly. "I wish you'd said yes, [Y/N]." Her fingers moved to rub her clit directly. "You could've stripped me. You could've taken me to bed. You could've fucked me and made me a slut for your cock."

She pushed two fingers into herself, hilting them at her knuckles. "Mmmf~ fuck," She withdrew her fingers, then thrusted back in, repeating the motion. "This… this could've been your cock, [Y/N]." Every alternate word was broken up by a moan as she pushed her fingers into herself. "Instead of… ahhh~ fucking myself- mmmf~ I… I could be- hnng~ cumming on your cock, aaah~"

Mina threw her head back, a guttural moan erupting from deep within her. Her fingers appeared to curl within her, stimulating her G-spot. "Fuck," the curse word was drawn out in a hiss, "fuck, fuck, fuck, that feels so good, fuck~"

My gaze travelled over her body. My hands moved to try to touch her, but Mina was quick to grab me. "Ah, ah, no touching from now on." She snapped her fingers with the hand that she was using to support herself, leaning forward to stare deep into my eyes. Her smile was coy, but her eyes were menacing, as if daring me to disobey. As I tried to move my hands, I found them bound behind me with zip ties to the bed frame. Wait… bed frame??

How did I get to her room?

Mina tipped my chin up, forcing me to meet her eyes. "Only look at me, darling. I want you to watch." She had withdrawn her fingers from her pussy; they were dripping with her juices. She lifted them to her own mouth, opening wide and sucking on her own fingers. I could see her tongue move, swirling around her digits, cleaning her fingers of her own pussy juices before she released them with an audible 'pop'.

My cock strained hard against my track pants. The bulge of my cock was painful, my precum staining through my underwear and forming a wet spot at the tip of the bulge. I squirmed under her, resisting against the ties. Mina looked down at my bulge, a big smile on her face. "I'm feeling generous today, darling. Because you've been so good today, you get to cum." She snapped her fingers once more, and I was now naked, lying on the bed with my arms around my head, still tied at the wrists to the bed. In the back of my mind, I questioned how she was able to manipulate reality to her will like that, but that thought was shelved when she sank down, pushing my cock against my stomach. Her pussy lips wrapped around the underside of my cock, and she began to rub up and down the length.

Mina smirked, her eyes glazed over, drunk in power. "Mmmf~ so hard for me, darling? Were you… aaah~... this hard when you… nngh~... watched me cum?" She ground down hard, reaching behind her to cup and play with my balls. Every few words of hers were broken up with gasps of pleasure. "Did me cumming while moaning your name feel good? Does it feel good knowing you're the reason I fuck myself? That this pussy cums for you?" Her thrusts on my cock were beginning to speed up.

"Mina-"

Mina glared at me, stopping her grinding on my cock. I squirmed, attempting to grind on her for my own pleasure. She raised herself up, just out of my reach. "Shut the fuck up. You're my slut now. My toy. My personal stress relief. You listen to me, and me only. Speak only if I tell you to. Speak up again and I will leave." She then leaned in, her eyes looking at my lips, then to my eyes. Her left hand caressed my cheek, before her thumb ran over my lips. "Be a good boy, and I'll let you cum…" She then snapped her fingers again, and I no longer could speak, just moan in pleasure for her ears.

Mina lowered herself once more, grinding down hard. Her pussy was leaking copious amounts of her juices, making a mess of both our crotches. Slick sounds echoed around the room, her wetness evident both visually and audibly. "Darling, are you gonna cum for me just like I came for you? Are you going to paint yourself white for me?" She grinded down forcefully, her pants turning to whines and whimpers, before turning to actual moans, of which each was interrupting her speech. "Cum for me, toy. Cum for me like I'm going to cum for you. Show me the load you'd put in my pussy. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I'm gonna… fuck! I'm gonna-"

Mina's hips bucked up, her pussy gushing. The visuals of the first stream of her squirt prompted me to cum myself, my spurts violent. I could only feel the pleasure of my own orgasm; nothing else in the world mattered when everything was whited out. Dimly, I noted Mina's streams landing all over my body, drenching me all over, as well as the bed sheets. When I opened my eyes, I was covered in a messy mix of semen, sweat, and Mina's juices.

Mina's next words were "Wake up."

--

"Blurrgh!" I sat up awake in shock. What the fuck was that dream? Panting heavily, I leaned backwards, attempting to calm down my pounding heart. What the fuck just happened? Wiping my sweat on my brow, I stared at the ceiling in a daze.

As I shifted to kick the blankets away in order to dissipate the heat from my body, I could feel an uncomfortable stickiness all over my body… and even more at my crotch. Sure, I was sweating profusely and very warm from the dream, which explained the stickiness on my body… but on my crotch…

Oh. I'd ejaculated in my pants.

The large wet spot on the front of my shorts was evident enough that my cum had soaked through my underwear.

Fuck.

----------

[Mina's POV]

Yesterday evening, I sent [Y/N] his first nudes of me. Me fucking myself to a fantasy of him and then squirting all over his living room. If only he'd just given in and fucked me; its not like he didn't want my pussy. I would have squirted on his cock.

Fuck it. I'm gonna break him now.

If he'd just given in, I'd not only submit to him, I'd have been his slut to fuck. Now that he'd resisted me, I really want to break him and make him my slut.

Shy [Y/N], so cute and flustered under me.

Fanning my dirty thoughts away, I prepared to shower and take my leave to the dance studio for practice.

--

"Thanks for today guys! I'll stay back for a bit more practice!"

I waved bye to my fellow classmates, before returning to the studio. While I did intend to practice more, I also really wanted to send [Y/N] something naughty. Locking the door, I giggled to myself.

I was wearing just a sports bra and yoga pants. I snapped a pic of myself, posing with a peace sign for the camera, before sending it to [Y/N].

'I am coming back a bit later, I'm working on something right now.'

Little would he know, I was working on taking my bra off my body. I was now topless in the studio.

'How do you like my body?'

I then decided to work my leggings and panties down my legs, stripping until I was nude. Fuck, I felt so naughty being nude in the dance studio. Kneeling on the ground, I began to snap a few pictures of myself.

'Did you have fun watching me cum?'

I then took a video of myself, running the lens from my face to my breasts, then down to my pussy.

'Maybe next time, all this would be for you.'

Smirking naughtily, I put on some music, set my camera to film, before proceeding to dance in the nude.

----------

[Y/N's POV]

Mina sent me more nudes.

She was testing my patience, and I wasn't the most patient person in the world when it came to her.

The video of her performing Taemin's Move nude was even worse - those hips, that stare, her thighs, her plump ass, the jiggling of her breasts each time she moved, and… oh my god, when she swung her right leg in a circle and flashed her pussy for the world to see… She was testing me and I was very close to failing.

As I watched the video with my earbuds plugged in, Mina popped her head into my room, waving cheerfully. "Konnichiwa, [Y/N]! Why're you so red?" I was ashamed to say I fumbled and dropped the phone in my hands.

Mina giggled, hiding her beautiful gummy smile with her hand. "Hehehe, watching something… naughty? Something personal?" She smirked cheekily, before announcing, "I've got something on soon, I'll be having lunch outside~ See you!"

I groaned after she left, proceeding for a freezing shower to get rid of my dirty thoughts.

Mina's body is divine.

--

I hummed a tune as the bacon sizzled in the pan. Breakfast for lunch seemed like a pretty good idea, and I couldn't resist bacon.

As I plated my bacon and eggs...

'Ding!'

Hmm, what was this?

Oh, fuck. Mina was sending me pictures again. This time, she was thankfully clothed, but what she wore was just as hot as if she had sent me pictures of her nude body. Her ginger hair was tied up in a ponytail, and she had on a beautiful suit. She appeared to be in the bathroom, seeing that a sink could be seen in the mirror she was using as a photography tool.

Holy fuck.

Mina knew of my weakness for suits. I'd told her before that anyone that wore a suit was hot in my eyes because of how put together they looked. I'd admitted that people in a suit, especially ladies, sometimes made me intimidated and flustered.

A voice note this time. "Hi [Y/N] baby, don't you like how I dressed for you?"

Another picture came in. Mina now had her tie loosened, and her hand was pushing her hair back. The next picture had Mina with two of the buttons on her dress shirt unbuttoned, showing her cleavage, with her tie pushed aside. She had untied her hair, letting it frame her beautiful face.

"[Y/N]-ah, I'm stripping for you now… I know you like it~" A giggle. "Hehe, enjoy~"

Another picture. Mina's dress shirt was now fully unbuttoned, a lace bra cupping her perky breasts, her tie nowhere to be seen.

Even more pictures. Mina with her shirt unbuttoned, now without a bra, showing the valley between her breasts. Mina with the blazer around her biceps, off her shoulders. Mina without a blazer. Mina with the dress shirt now off her shoulders, around her arms, still covering her breasts but exposing the smooth, milky skin of her bare shoulders, and her defined collarbones.

'Ding!' Mina sent another picture, this time of her with the camera held up behind her untied hair, her bare back facing the camera, with her free hand held up in a peace sign.

With each picture, my dick grew harder and harder. She sent her killing blow next.

[ Myoui Mina is initiating a video call… ]

"Hey, [Y/N]~"

Mina was still in a state of undress, the camera held at face level, just enough to catch her bare shoulders and hints of her cleavage. The mirror behind her captured the beauty of her bare back.

"What the fuck, Mina? What're you doing?"

"Oh, darling~ you don't have to be so shocked, it's not like you haven't seen me before." She laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "You had so much fun watching me finger myself to you. If I'd known you were watching, I'd have called you in so you could pound my pussy until you filled me with cum and my pussy milked all the cum from your balls."

The absolute filth spilled from Myoui Mina's lips was something I'd never have expected to hear in my lifetime. These few days showed that Mina was more than just my elegant, respectful, beautiful, and considerate housemate; she was also a woman with her sexual desires, wants, and needs, and she would stop at nothing to get what she wanted. In this case, she wanted me, and this was her way of doing so, through usage of her supple body and knowledge of my thinking processes and what ticked my checkboxes.

"I still have presents for you, baby. Guess what I'm doing right now?"

"Mina, I… Mina, what?"

"Yaaah~ you're not answering my question~ I'm doing something just for you, baby. Only for you." She winked, giving me a long gummy smile. "I'll let you see, chotto matte yo~~"

The screen shifted, now showing the white ceiling of the bathroom she was in. I heard the sounds of her belt unbuckling, and a short zip sound, before the camera was picked up again.

"Hihi, baby!" She panned the camera down, showing me her magnificent body… Oh. Oh. Her hand was in her pants, seemingly rubbing circles around her clit.

"Fuck~ that feels so good, mmmf~... Baby, I'm touching myself for you again~ This time… let Mommy show you what she does to her pussy when she thinks of you."

A whimper escaped my lips uncontrolled.

"Did Mommy's words turn you on, baby? Are you hard and twitching for me? Whip it out for me, baby. Flip the view. Show Mommy how much you like what you're seeing." Her deep and sultry tone, punctured with the occasional gasp and moan of pleasure, sent streaks of arousal straight down to my twitching dick, now leaking lots of precum. I swapped the view of my camera, pulling my pants down to set my cock free of its confinements within my shorts.

"Fuck baby, you're so fucking big… and so wet for Mommy. Jerk yourself for Mommy as Mommy strips for you." Mina propped the camera against the wall, turning around and pulling her trousers down with her panties. She bent over, flashing her ass and her drenched pussy to the camera as I jerked myself looking at her stripping. Mina turned around, placing her clothing out of the frame, standing in the bathroom naked.

"I'm glad no one ever comes here. Mommy can be loud and make a mess, and no one will know but you and me." Her lust-filled tone was turning me on more and more. Mina put her right hand down to her pussy, and her wrist curled up and she bit her lip and furrowed her brow, closing one eye. "Mmmf~, look baby," she put her hands closer to the camera, showing me the strands of her juices coating her fingers, "look at how wet Mommy is showing you what a slut she is. Mommy's a slut for your cock, baby. She wants your cock to fuck her pussy hard, to pound it until it cums and squirts all over you. Mommy wants you to fuck her until you fill her with cum and it leaks down her legs and thighs." She withdrew her hands from the camera, moving them back to her pussy as she picked up the camera and walked to an empty stall with a seating toilet, the cover already down. Sitting down on the toilet, Mina spread her legs, her fingers already penetrating her pussy and curling for her G-spot.

A sigh of pleasure released from Mina's open mouth as she leaned her head back. "Mommy's thinking… ah~... about your cock, baby…" Every few words she spoke were broken up with moans, sighs, hisses, or pants of pleasure. "I wish it was your cock in my pussy right now, baby. I wish you were kneeling and fucking into Mommy's slutty pussy as I spread for you. Don't you like that, baby? Don't you want Mommy's pussy around your cock?"

"Yes, Mina-"

Mina halted her actions. "What was that, baby?"

"I'm sorry, Mommy- fuck!" I jerked myself quicker, feeling myself edging slowly towards my orgasm at how Mina… no, Mommy had, so easily, made me submit to her.

Mina smiled. "What a filthy mouth. Mommy will let it slide this time, baby. Jerk yourself slow and good. I want you to come with Mommy. Not before, not after. Can you do that for Mommy, baby?"

"Yes, Mommy." I slowed my strokes down, disciplining myself to resist cumming first. Precum leaked out of the tip of my cock, lubricating the head. Whatever excess precum dripped to the ground.

Mina's bright smile on her face did not fit what filthy actions she was doing to herself, but that made it so much hotter. "Good job, baby. You're such a good boy. I promise you will enjoy your orgasm later. Hold on for me, okay?" She began to thrust faster and faster, moaning out loud each time her fingers curled over her G-spot. Her palm rubbed her clit with each thrust, slowly pushing her closer and closer to the edge of her release. "How does it feel, baby, to be watching me touch myself for you? Mommy's so wet and so horny watching you jerk yourself for her. Mommy's so happy you're dripping; it shows how happy you are to watch Mommy. Good job baby, I'm close, so close, fuck~"

"Mommy, fuck, I'm so close, so fucking close!"

Mina's sultry voice, broken with pants and moans, echoed from my speakers, "Yes, baby, cum for Mommy, cum with Mommy, fuck, I'm gonna, fuck-!"

"Fuck, Mommy, I'm coming!"

Mina's camera angle had switched to one from her point of view. The camera was now showing the door of the stall she was in, and her fingers furiously thrusting to bring herself to orgasm. Before she could finish her sentence, a long stream of fluid squirted from her pussy, her hand rushing to furiously rub her clit left and right, her squirt spraying all over the stall walls, floor, and door. She moaned gutturally as each stream exited, violent and strong. I could see her toes curling as she achieved her release.

The moment Mina squirted her first stream, semen shot out of the tip of my dick all over the floor. I bucked my hips into my hand, fucking my own hand to prolong my orgasm, as more spurts of cum shot out and created a puddle on the floor. As I collapsed to the floor, Mina's exhausted voice flowed to my ears, "Fuck baby, you came so much for Mommy… Good job, baby, Mommy came so much for you too." Mina's smile could be heard through the speakers. "You did so well for me… Mommy's proud of you. Now go clean up, Mommy will be back for dinner."

"Yes Mommy, thank you Mommy."

Mina giggled, the camera flipping to see Mina gazing at her drenched hand, covered in a coating of her squirt. Mina gave her hand multiple licks from top to bottom, as if she was sucking on a cock, all while her eyes never left the camera. I licked my dry lips, watching Mina clean herself.

"Maybe next time, it'll be your cock I'm licking."

[ Myoui Mina has ended the call. ]

My food was long cold by then.

----------

[Mina's POV]

As I rested on the toilet seat, recovering from my mindblowing orgasm, I smiled thinking of [Y/N]'s moans and submission to me. Making him call me Mommy turned me on so much that I'd squirted the most I had ever in my life; the stall I was in was covered in my juices. My squirt was flowing down the walls, the door, and dripping onto the ground, forming large puddles, as if someone had just showered.

Watching his cock spurt out so much semen was such a turn on, as well as knowing he'd just fucked himself for me. What an obedient little pet, so turned on and so wet just for me just by listening to my instructions. A good pet deserves a reward…

As I cleaned myself up, as well as the stall, and got dressed, I thought about how to seduce him one last time into my bed. I'm going to milk my pet for all he's worth.

I'm going to fuck him until I'm satisfied. I have waited long enough.

His reward will be my body.

--

"[Y/N], tadaima!"

I unlocked the front door to our shared apartment, dressed in the suit I'd used in our sex session over video. The aroma of fried rice wafted from the kitchen, accompanied by a "Shit!" and the sound of something dropping. Running to the kitchen, I was met with a red-faced [Y/N], picking up two spoons and forks from the ground. "Okaeri, Mo- Mina-ya." I smiled at his little slip of the tongue.

I walked over to him as he went to wash up the dropped utensils. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I leaned into his back, giving him a hug. "Thank you for cooking, [Y/N]." His body was so tense under my touch. He smelled really nice…

"Y-You're wel- welcome, Mina." His nerves were evident in his shaky and unsure voice. Turning him around as he dried his hands, I now embraced him from the front, burying my face into the crook of his neck. I felt [Y/N] finally wrap his arms around me, sinking into me just like I was sinking into his embrace.

"[Y/N]-ah, thank you for today too." I smiled at his sound of confusion, before I caressed his cheek with my hand. "Today's video call. I've never been so turned on in my life, and I've never cummed this hard before. And I did it with you. Thank you." With each word, [Y/N] got redder and redder, and he seemed to tense up, leaning away from me slightly, specifically his crotch. It was pretty clear why, but I did not want to embarrass him at this point. "Hey, don't get shy on me now," I said, flashing my gummy smile, "you've literally seen my naked body more than I've seen yours, from when you peeped on me to earlier today. I should be the mortified one here." Apologies spilled from [Y/N]'s mouth, but I silenced him with a finger on his lips. "It's okay, baby, I don't mind now, and I didn't mind then. However, I really have something I want off my chest now."

I took a deep breath in, then released it.

"Before I proceed with any of my other plans tonight, I kind of want to address the situation you caught me in on Thursday." I bit my lip, fiddling with my fingers. "Yes, I was fantasizing about you, and… I'm kind of ashamed you had to see that. I did not want to have you realise I think of you like that in that manner." Raising my hands to wrap around the back of [Y/N]'s neck, I stared into his eyes. "I like you, and I think you're hot."

[Y/N]'s eyes widened, before he pulled me into another hug, this one tighter than the rest. "Mina, thank you." His smile could be heard in his voice. "I like you too." As he withdrew, his hands trailed down my forearms to my hands, firmly clasping them in his. "I have something to say too. I'm sorry I peeped on you. I know you said you were cool, but I should have done better and not watched you. That was your private time and I should be respecting it, but I watched instead with perverted desires. This has been eating away at me, and I feel so sorry- mmph!"

I crashed my lips into his, yanking the collar of his tee to get him low enough to be able to take my kiss. I felt him lean into the kiss, reciprocating with as much desire for this as I had. As I pulled him closer, our kiss deepened, and my hands wrapped around his head while his arms wrapped around my waist.

We broke our kiss for air. I smiled, panting hard. "You were rambling, babe. It's okay, I'm fine with it. Let's have dinner before the food gets cold." I took [Y/N]'s hand, leading him to the table, draping my blazer over my chair, before proceeding to eat.

Dinner was a relatively quiet affair. [Y/N] couldn't hide his happiness as he seemed to have a dazed smile on at all times, and I was just watching him be his happiest. This was the cutest I'd ever seen him, and for the past year, I had seen so many moments of him being cute - when he was sleepy, when he was focusing on his work, when he was enthusing about his day or his interests, and that one time he cuddled me at my request. This was now the cutest I'd ever seen him and I was content just to watch him bask in his happiness.

I still want to bed him though.

--

As we walked back to our rooms after dinner, I stopped [Y/N] at my room. "[Y/N]-ah, wait." When he turned to face me, a smile on his face, I beckoned him with a wave. Tiptoeing to his ear, I whispered, "Shower with me." The look of disbelief on his face made me laugh. "I mean it, [Y/N], shower with me. I'll wait for you~"

Oh, the plans I have for him, and all of it ends with us sleeping together tonight.

Grabbing my towel from my room after untying my tie, I made my way to [Y/N]'s room. As I strided in, I grabbed [Y/N]'s hand, pulling him from his room. "Mina! I haven't picked my clothes yet! Mina!" I smiled at him as I carried on pulling him towards the bathroom. "You won't need those later, darling." Pulling him into the bathroom, I locked the door, then turned and pinned him against the wall, releasing the control I had on my lust for him.

"Mina?! Wha-?!" I forcefully pulled him in for a kiss, before releasing him and smirking. I rubbed his crotch over his shorts, pulling him for another forceful kiss, but this one softer and slower. His hands were also slowly roaming my body, first around my waist, then slowly moving downwards to knead my ass. Fuck, that felt so good…

I broke our second kiss. "Why don't you strip for me, baby?" I smiled, leaning back on the sink. I could see the arousal and fear rise in [Y/N]'s eyes, and as he set his towel down on the rack. I set mine down as well, before turning to him. "No, really. We're showering. Of course we're stripping. I'll strip too."

[Y/N] slowly pulled off his shirt, revealing inch by inch of his solid core muscles, his pectorals, his biceps, triceps… oh my God, he was so fucking hot. I couldn't help but just stare at the new amount of skin in my line of sight, forgetting to take off my clothing too. When he pushed his shorts and briefs down, I watched his hard cock spring out, and a rush of wetness flowed down my pussy. As he looked up at me, he rushed to cover his hard cock, sticking out in front of him. I laughed, before grabbing both his wrists and pulling his hands away. "It's okay [Y/N], it's natural. I'm wet for you too." He groaned, his dick twitching once. "Mina~," he whined, "don't say that! It's embarrassing…" Smiling, I moved closer to him and tiptoed to give him a peck on his lips. "You're so cute, [Y/N]. And… you're so big…" He groaned again, and I kissed him once more. "Fine, fine. I'm gonna strip now."

I could see his eyes darting to me and looking away as I unbuttoned my dress shirt. I'd already untied my tie in my room. He was very embarrassed and quite aroused as he looked at me undressing; the precum was starting to form at the slit on the tip of his red, angry, hard cock. How would that cock feel in my pussy? That thought made a rush of heat fill my loins. I pulled my shirt off, hands moving to unclip my bra, when I heard [Y/N] go, "Wait." He walked over, putting two hands on my arms, and turning me around. "It's awkward standing there… let me." His hands moved up to the clip of the bra. "Can I?"

Oh, he… that was so lovable of him. Beaming at him, I nodded yes. I felt his hands reach the clip, unclipping both ends of the bra. He aided me in removing it from my arms, and I took it off, turning around to show him my bare breasts. He gasped, eyes wide, staring at them, before closing his open mouth, unable to tear his eyes away. I giggled, tilting his chin up. "My eyes are up here, dummy, hehe."

"You're beautiful, Mina. Oh my God." The compliment took me off guard, my hands rushing to cover my face as I whined. "I'm shy~! Don't say that!" He laughed, pulling on my hands, then planting his lips on my forehead. Putting my hands down to the buckle of my belt, I undid my belt, then bent down, sliding both my pants and panties off me. I noticed a wet spot on my panties, and after I pulled the last of my clothing off and stood back upright, I could see [Y/N]'s red face, his eyes roaming my naked body, and his dick twitched once more, making my pussy wetter. "Let's shower, babe," I said, "if we wait any longer I might not be able to hold back." Pulling him into the shower, I turned on the water.

----------

[Y/N's POV - Post Shower]

The shower with Mina was uneventful. We were both kind of self conscious, but we got through the shower, albeit with a few lustful stares at each other, and smirks exchanged each time we caught each other. I could not believe my awfully sexy housemate was naked and showering somewhat comfortably with me. With that said, I was aroused almost all the time, watching a Mina with wet hair and droplets of water drawing streaks down the curves of her chest or the valley in the middle of her breasts, running down her toned core, her creamy thighs, her developed calves, and the worst of all - I'd watch some of the droplets run, and they'd reach her pussy… I had to tear my eyes away. I'd caught her staring at my own fit body too. Her hungry eyes ran over my arms, my chest, my core, down my legs, and every once in a while, right at my hard cock. We'd laugh each time we caught the other, but the sexual tension in the bathroom was so thick. It was clear what we would do post-shower, but I was hoping for something soft and slow, which I'd wanted with her for so long.

As I dried my hair off, I looked at Mina towelling herself off, her hair still wet. Reaching over with my own towel, I wrapped the towel around her head, drying her hair for her. She looked up at me in surprise, and all I could do was smile at how adorable she was. It was funny how a naked woman in front of me was the most adorable creature in the world at the moment, and not the sexiest. After we were dry, Mina smirked, and dragged me by the hand, leading us through the house naked. After hurriedly putting our towels out to dry, she dragged me to her room, giggling to herself as she pushed me onto her bed.

I leaned against the headrest of the bed, my eyes widening at how quick Mina was - she was now crawling towards me seductively, her lust and desire evident in her half-lidded eyes. Mina bit her bottom lips, her plump ass high in the air, her perky breasts swaying left and right as she crawled. My half-erect cock slowly hardened and grew, which Mina took notice of, and giggled. As she got closer, she rose up to straddle me, kneeling above my hard shaft. Lowering herself to meet me eye to eye, she wrapped her arms around my neck, putting her lips close to mine.

"Hi, baby." She smiled, my favourite gummy smile, with her eyes becoming slits. "Hey, Mina," I breathed, mesmerised by the juxtaposition of Mina's adorable smile in front of my face and the awfully sinful body she possessed, exposed to all of my sight. My eyes locked on to her thighs, the thick creamy expanse of skin just begging to be touched and caressed, and then to her breasts, which I'd always dreamed of fondling. Mina watched me check her body out for the umpteenth time, before tilting my chin up to meet her gaze. "Kiss me."

Our lips drew closer, feeling each other's hot breath on the other's lips. When our lips met, Mina seemed to push into me, her hands cradling the back of my head and neck while I loosely wrapped my hands around her shoulders. We exchanged multiple kisses, each of them short pecks, as our hands began to wander. Mina brought one of her hands down to my shoulders, then to my biceps, giving them a squeeze. Her other hand moved down onto my other shoulder, and she broke our latest kiss, staring lovingly into my eyes. "Mommy wants it slow with you, darling. Can you be good for me tonight?"

A whimper broke free from my throat as I nodded in submission, my cock twitching once. Mina being my Mommy was the sexiest thing I'd ever heard in my life, and knowing that I'd be her good boy turned me on so much.

Mina's smile graced her features once more, softening my heart once again. "You've been my good boy these few days, taking all my teasing so well. Tonight, Mommy will reward you with her body." She leaned in to touch her forehead with mine, another giggle reaching my ears. "Enjoy your reward baby." Giving me a final peck, she reached for my cock, giving it a tight squeeze, before gripping it and stroking up and down, her eyes once again lustful. "Does my hand feel good, baby? How does it feel?"

I had moaned at her first touch. Finally, there was some reprieve from the pent-up sexual frustration and tension between us for the past few days. Now, she was finally relieving me of some of the pressure I was feeling because of her. Her dainty fingers wrapped around my shaft, stroking it up and down, sending sparks of pleasure up and down my groin. Even when she was masturbating me, she looked elegant, as if she wasn't indulging herself in sexual activity with her housemate, but instead, playing a musical instrument. As she stroked, she met eyes with me, expecting my answer. "F-fuck, Mommy, your hand feels so good, oh my gosh!" Mina stroked faster, her eyes gleaming with mischief, as she began to talk dirty to me.

"Mommy's been wanting your cock for a long time, baby. Each time I see you shirtless, I've always wanted to jump you and fuck myself senseless on your cock. Sometimes, I want to be under you as you make me your slut, your cum dumpster, and just a hole for you to fuck. Don't you like that, baby? Hearing me beg for your cum, fucking my tight body as and when you like, in any position you want?" Her hand sped up, her words conjuring mental images that took me closer and closer to my release. "Or maybe my mouth. You could be plowing my mouth, dumping your load down my throat. Maybe even my lubed ass, you could be fucking my ass until I squirt all over the bed and my thighs. Do you want Mommy to be your slut, baby? Mommy could just be three holes for you to cum in, baby. Mommy can be your cumslut, your personal toy to cum in, or cum on. How about that, baby?"

The filth from Mina's mouth was easily the hottest string of words to ever grace my ears. I'd wanted Mina for ages, but I'd never expected her to be this dominating. She began to thumb the head of my cock, spreading the precum at the tip all over. "So wet for Mommy, baby. Are you cumming soon? Do you wanna glaze Mommy with your cum? I'll let you cum on me. Take your choice, baby. Do you want to cum on my breasts, my abs? My thighs? My ass, my back? Choose quickly, baby." Her hand stroked harder, and I instinctively exclaimed "Your breasts!"

"Good choice, darling. Cum for Mommy, cover Mommy with your love!" Mina fell back, spreading her legs to let me flush myself to her as I jerked myself to orgasm. My first shot landed all over her right breast, the second landing on the left. The next few shots glazed her sweaty torso, adding to the glistening of her sweat. Mina watched my cock spurt, delight and lust adorning her features, as she watched her baby dirty her body. Her hand thumbed my cock head once more, collecting the stray drips of cum, before she brought the thumb to her lips, licking my semen off it, as if it were some delicacy. Her other hand began to collect the sticky mess all over her torso and chest, scooping it up and pouring it in her mouth. Her tongue swirled in her mouth, mixing the semen with her saliva, before she sat up, opened her mouth to show me my cum, then swallowing it, before showing me her empty mouth. She giggled, before shifting to allow me line of sight to her wet pussy. Mina spread her labia open. The wet sound of the lips separating sent arousal down to my softening dick. Mina noticed that, and smiled. "Take your rest, baby. Come, please Mommy."

I shifted Mina to rest against me, her back leaning against my body. Placing my head near her right shoulder, I began to kiss her nape and towards the shoulder, teasing her a little. I kissed her up and down her neck, breathing on it once in a while, which got her whimpering and shuddering in anticipation and pleasure. My hands wrapped around Mina's body, one snaked around her core to keep her flush to me, the other firmly grasped her breast, kneading it to pleasure her. I was finally touching her body, and I intended to worship it.

Mina turned to me, her neediness and lust evident in her expression and tone. "Darling, don't tease me. Mommy isn't so patient." I caught her lips in a passionate kiss, my tongue sliding against her lower lip for access. When she granted me access, our tongues met, lazily swirling against the other, as we made out with each other. We broke our kiss, panting. "Mommy, please be patient." I gave her a short peck. "I want to worship Mommy's body."

I returned to kneading her breast as I kissed her neck, sucking and biting on certain spots. I fingered her erect nipple, pinching it and circling it, leading her to moan beautifully, the outlet of her pleasure music to my ears. Knowing that what I was doing was pleasing her turned me on so much. My dick flared to life, slowly hardening against her back, growing in size and girth. This did not escape Mina's notice, as she giggled. "Hehe, someone's happy~" I smiled against her ear, whispering, "I can't wait to fuck your pussy, Mommy, but you'll have to wait." Mina shuddered at my breath hitting her, which I filed as a potential spot to focus on.

I switched positions with Mina, letting her lie on the bed. I cradled her head and placed her softly on the pillow, before I straddled her and began to work on her neck once more, marking her neck with hickeys as she moaned at my ministrations on her neck. I bit on her earlobe and sucked, and Mina twitched at the pleasure, a loud moan escaping her lips. She was so fucking sexy moaning like that, and I felt precum flow out of my tip. Furthering my actions on her earlobe, Mina writhed around on the bed in pleasure, moaning a mixture of "Baby", "[Y/N]", or wordless sounds of pleasure. I began to kiss down from her neck, giving her butterfly kisses as I journeyed to her clavicle. I gave her a few kisses on her clavicle, hot openmouthed kisses as I licked the sweat on her pleasured body. The salty taste of her sweat did not bother me; my objective was to worship her body and make her cum with my mouth and fingers.

My journey down her body brought me to the swell of her bosom, her beautiful breasts begging to be pleasured. They heaved with each of Mina's laboured pants, her pert nipples waving in the air, tempting me to suckle and bite down on them. My dick twitched at the thought, precum once again flowing down to reach the tip, a little bit spurting out and dirtying the sheets. Mina's breasts were gorgeous and I could lose myself playing with them if I was left unchecked. I began to kiss down her cleavage, giving each breasts alternating pecks, licking and tonguing her flesh. Her warm body reciprocated earnestly; she writhed in lust, moaning as I kissed up each breast and around her nipples, but not quite touching them. "Mommy, can I…" my question trailed off as Mina looked up and nodded vigorously, silently begging for me to finally touch her sensitive nipples. When my tongue came into contact with her left nipple, my left hand pinched and tugged at her right, leading her hips to buck as pleasure coursed through her veins. "Aaaah~," she moaned, her right hand coming up to grip my hair. I gave her hardened nipple a few sucks, my tongue flicking it up and down, once in a while giving it a soft nibble. My hand carried on pinching and tugging her other nipple, while my other hand, which was supporting myself, reached over to grasp hers and hold it. "Baby, shit, that feels so good, fuck! Mommy feels so good baby, so so good~ aaah, shit~" Mina was enjoying the waves of pleasure crashing against her body. Her body was so warm, her beautiful features depicting the pleasure of the sexual activity she was engaging in.

I released her nipple from my mouth, blowing on it. The contrast of the cool air and the warmth of her body led her to squeak, as I blew on her nipple, then kissed it. Soon enough, I had swapped to her other nipple, suckling and nibbling the right nipple while fondling her left breast. All of this fueled Mina's desperation to finally have some action below. "Baby, fuck, eat Mommy out. Quickly!" I began to journey down towards her pussy, kissing all the way down her torso, her abs, her hip bones, and then down both her thighs. I spread Mina's legs open, my cock twitching at the amount of juices that was leaking out of Mina's pussy. Below where she lay, there was a large wet spot, and I could see how much her pussy glistened and clenched on nothing, as she begged, "Baby, quick!"

Our dynamics had switched, even though I was still calling her Mommy. I enjoyed the rush of power I had, and I began to kiss and lick down Mina's inner thighs, teasing her once more. I kissed down her left thigh, giving it a few licks, as she panted and hissed in pleasure. Doing the same for the other leg, I spared myself a glance at Mina's beautiful pussy. "Please, baby, eat Mommy, please!" Mina was so desperate she was pushing herself towards my mouth. I smiled, blowing on her clit, as she groaned in frustration. Finally, I gave her a lick around her pussy, tasting her juices but not giving her the relief she so craved. "Baby, please~ Ah~!!" I gave her slit one strong lick, gathering her juices all on my tongue, before swallowing what was in my mouth. Returning to her slit, I began to lick and suck on what I could, which was slowly driving Mina wild, as she grabbed my head and forced my mouth towards her pussy. I gave her a few more licks before I decided to push her quicker to the edge by involving my fingers. As I moved to kiss her clit, I began to rub my fingers over the slit, lubricating them for entry. Each kiss or lick on Mina's clit set off her melodic moans, groans, pants, and hisses. Occasionally, she would moan my name and I would double my efforts on her clit, which would set off small gushes of fluid onto my fingers.

"Mommy, can I put my fingers inside?" I looked up at Mina, our eyes meeting. She smiled and nodded, her smiling face quickly changing to one of pleasure as I penetrated her with my middle finger, thrusting in and out. I returned to kiss and suck on her clit, driving Mina crazy. "Fuck, baby, fuck, fuck, fuck! That feels so good, aaah~! Oh my, your fingers… fuck!" Deciding to increase her pleasure, I added my ring finger to the mix, continuing my kisses, sucks, and licks on her hard clit. Each time I thrusted in, I curled my fingers, looking for her G-spot. After a few strokes, I heard Mina squealing, "Fuck, baby, there! Right there! Fu- Fuck! Yes, yes, yes, yes!" I focused my strokes to aim at that spot, as Mina bucked her hips wildly with each stroke, pushing my head into her crotch. I decided to swap my fingers with my tongue, hearing Mina's disappointment at the withdrawal of my fingers, then a gasp of delight as I stuck my tongue into her delicious pussy. I licked and sucked from her pussy directly, drinking whatever juices she could offer. My wet fingers rubbed around and on her clit, and I could hear her going "Fuck, if you keep that… if- if- aah~ if you keep that going- fuck- I'm going to cum! Fuck!" Mina's filthy mouth only spurred me to work harder on eating her out - I wanted to drink her in literally.

I began to hasten my motions on her clit, and focus on her G-spot, and only that spot, with my tongue. Mina's hips began to buck wildly, her moans and words building to a crescendo. "Oh, fuck! Fuck! [Y/N], baby, fuck! Don't stop, baby, don't stop! Fuck! I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum! Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES, YES, YESYESYES- AAAAAAAHHHH~~~!!!!"

Mina squirted. Her juices gushed from her pussy, spraying onto my lips and into my mouth. I wrapped my mouth around her pussy, drinking her squirt in. The sweet taste of her juices flooding my mouth sent my lust for her through the roof. Her hips wildly bucking, the shrill screams resembling a whistle resonating around the room, her orgasming pussy clenching around nothing...

Rising from my position between her legs, I crawled onto the bed, wiping my lips with my hand. "Mina, are you okay?" I caressed her cheek, leaning in for a kiss. Mina nodded, exhausted and high off the post-orgasm afterglow, giving me a beautiful eye smile, meeting my lips for that kiss. We made out again, our tongues swirling around each other lazily, basking in each other's company. Mina smiled at me, kissing my forehead. "There are condoms in the second drawer."

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[Mina's POV]

I gave [Y/N]'s hard cock a kiss after putting the condom on him. I rose up to him, giving him a kiss, before pushing him onto the bed and straddling him.

"Thank you for earlier, baby, but now… now you're going to fuck Mommy's pussy until Mommy cums all over your cock and you fill that condom with your seed." I aligned myself with [Y/N]'s cock, slowly sinking down. The tip of [Y/N]'s cock parted my labia, and I began to tease him, rubbing his tip along my pussy lips. He moaned, frustration evident on his face at my teasing. "I know you want to cum, baby. I know you want to fuck Mommy's tight slutty pussy until you fill my hole with cum. However, I call the shots here babe, and I want to see you squirm. This slutty body may be your reward tonight baby, but I'm not such an easy slut. If you please me, baby, I'll make sure you get the full extent of your reward. Ready yourself, babe."

Without warning, I sank down on the entire length of [Y/N]'s cock. I sheathed the entirety of his hard shaft in my naughty pussy, a loud moan erupting from my lips as he stretched my pussy. [Y/N]'s loud "Fuck!" and other curses was indicative enough of the pleasure he felt penetrating me for the first time. I supported myself on [Y/N]'s chest, my teeth gritted at the fullness I felt. Smirking, I cradled [Y/N]'s head, locking eyes with him. "You're not allowed to cum until I'm satisfied. If you cum, I'll make sure, next time, I'll strip you, tie you up, and ruin every orgasm you have. Are we crystal clear, baby?"

"Yes, Mommy." [Y/N] was such a good boy. So obedient, so eager to please. If he kept this up, he'd get to enjoy more of my body next time.

'Pak, pak, pak.' The sound of flesh slapping flesh began to ring around my room as I raised my hips and sank back down, riding [Y/N]'s cock. Moan after moan left my lips, unfiltered. I decided to torture [Y/N] with more dirty talk, just to tempt him into cumming. "How does it feel… ahh~... having Mommy… hff~... fuck your cock, baby? How does it feel- oh, fuck! ...knowing you're Mommy's new toy? Fuck, that feels so good…. You're mine to fuck. Anytime. Anywhere." I could feel myself squeezing his cock harder thinking about how he was now mine to fuck as and when I wanted, and with each time I impaled myself on his cock, he would let out the sexiest moans, his eyes clouded with pleasure and lust for me, tinged with obedience and fear. Halting my actions, I grinded down on him, going in circles as I smiled at [Y/N] gritting his teeth and trying not to blow his load. "You can't come yet, [Y/N]~, not until Mommy's slutty pussy cums on her new favorite toy~."

As I grinded down on him, I leaned over, putting my chest in front of his face. "Suck on the breasts you love, babe. I can tell- ah!" [Y/N] latched on instantly, thrusting up and sucking on my left nipple, fondling my right breast. "Oh my god, fuck, that feels so good! I can tell you've… ahh! You've… fuck, you've wanted this, haven't you, baby? Shit, mmmh~, suck on the tits you love so much, baby. Make Mommy cum." I panted in pleasure as [Y/N] fucked up into my pussy, my hips matching his thrusts. "Fuck Mommy's pussy until Mommy cums. If you make me cum, I'll let you fuck me how you want, and you can finally fill that condom."

[Y/N] kept his thrusts up as he fucked into me hard. I was getting closer and closer to orgasm; his sucking on, paired with occasional biting and pinching of my sensitive nipples sent pleasure all over my body. Sweat dripped down my body, running down my neck and chest, which [Y/N] licked up whenever he decided to attack my neck and breasts with licks and kisses.

"Oh shit, babe. Fuck me just like that! Yes! Right there, yes!" [Y/N] had angled himself under me to hit my G-spot once more, and every thrust he was making was hitting that exact spot. He groaned in pleasure and exertion as he thrusted harder, gritting his teeth and furrowing his brows as he focused on not cumming in the condom once more, pushing himself to ensure I came on his cock.

"Fuck, baby, yes, yes, yes, yes, I'm gonna cum!"

My pussy squeezed down on his cock as I saw white and fell into his embrace. I could feel my back arch, pushing myself towards him, as I trembled and he fucked me through my orgasm, prolonging it.

"Oh, Mommy. Now it's my turn."

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[Y/N's POV]

Mina had her orgasm. Now it was my turn.

I flipped us so I was on top of her now, her legs wrapped around my hips. Mina's exhausted eyes stared into mine in surprise, and a devilish grin met her gaze. "Do you know how hard it was fucking you without being able to cum? Now I get to fuck your slutty pussy." I slowly began to thrust once more, Mina moaning at my movements. "Finally. Finally I get to fuck this pussy the way I like it."

I pushed my cock in her pussy ever so slowly, hearing her groan in frustration as I slid in one slow centimeter by one slow centimeter. "Mommy wants it faster, huh? Fine, I'll give you fast." I began to fuck her with quick, hard strokes, of which each was from head to hilt. "Fuck, baby, fuck, your cock feels so good in my pussy, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god, yes, oh my god-" Mina was slowly losing the ability to make coherent sentences as I gave her a hard fucking. Her vocabulary consisted of the phrase "Oh my God", the words "Fuck", "Shit", and "Yes", as well as mindless moans of pleasure.

Catching Mina's lips in a heated kiss, I kept the pace and power of my thrusts even as we made out once more, her arms wrapped around me as I held her head in my hands and arms. She moaned into the kiss, wrapping her legs around my hips as I fucked her pussy with short strokes, chasing my orgasm.

I decided to taunt Mina just as she'd taunted me so many times. "I can feel your pussy clenching around my cock, Mommy. Does this turn you on that much? Knowing that I'm using your slutty pussy just so I can cum? I've wanted you like this for so long, Mommy, under me, being my cockslut. Does my cock feel good, Mommy? Does it feel good being fucked like that? Like you're nothing but a hole for my cock to fill?"

It wasn't long before I exclaimed, "Fuck, Mommy, I'm cumming!" I'd gone beyond the point of no return through both my dirty talk and Mina's reactions to said talk. She'd looked so pleasured and fucked out, and she could only nod and moan at my words, her pussy squeezing my cock as she got more and more aroused hearing my words. Mina had pulled my body flush against hers as she achieved another orgasm, her pussy milking my cock as I felt my balls tighten and my cock pulse, each pulse firing off stream after stream of thick, hot semen. I'd not been able to last long after I'd nearly blown my load multiple times - once when Mina had begun to talk dirty to me, a few times when I'd fucked into her, and the toughest was when she came the first time. Both of us released guttural moans as we orgasmed in each other's embrace, Mina pulling me in tightly, and as I cradled her head and buried myself in her neck.

--

I pulled out of Mina's freshly fucked pussy, my cock easily slipping out of the used condom after. I threw the used condom away, making my way back to the kitchen. Getting 2 cups of water, I returned to Mina's side, placing the cups on her bedside table and pulling her exhausted self up to a sitting position. Mina panted with exhaustion, sweat still running down her body. I ruffled her sweat matted hair, kneeling down to meet her eyes. "Are you okay, Mina? Was I too rough?" Mina gave me a tired eye smile, before shaking her head. "No, baby. It was perfect." She caught me in a slow passionate kiss, conveying what her exhausted brain could not with words. I smiled, offering her a cup of water, which she chugged.

"Come on, babe, let's shower again."

--

As I scrubbed Mina's hair, she softly called "[Y/N]..."

"Yes, Mina?"

"It's Sunday tomorrow…" She poked her fingers together, turning to me with her soapy hair. "I know it's not the right order, but… date tomorrow?"

Oh, my heart. She was pouting and giving me puppy eyes. Puppy eyes! Pouting! Poking her fingers together! She was ADORABLE!!!

I ruffled her hair with my soapy hands, smiling. "Of course, Mina. Date tomorrow." Mina grin equalled that of the power of the Sun, and she "vibrated" excitedly. I brought her into a tight hug, the water running over us.

"Let's finish up and go to bed, Mina."

--

The next morning, I woke up to Mina straddling my body once more. "Oh- uh.. wha-? Good morning, Mina..?"

Oh, she had that glint in her eyes… and she was gripping my morning wood.

"Baby, I see you're happy to see me~" She rubbed up and down the length, pulling it out of my shorts. "Get ready for Round 2, baby~ The date can wait..."

"You're mine until I'm done with you."

--- END ---

[iridecsense]

𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘭𝘦 - 𝘮.

⤷ summary: “You’re blue, I'm red, I wanna kiss your neck and make you purple all over.”

ꕥ word count: 33.7k ꕥ pairing: credence barebone | fem!reader  ꕥ genre: fluff, angst, smut ꕥ rating: 18+ ꕥ warnings: mentions of physical and religious abuse, mild violence and angst ꕥ kinks: femdom, masturbation ꕥ author’s note:  Credence’s first time requested by anonymous. Experimenting a new writing style with this one, I hope you still like it! This is very soft, but also sinful. I always suggest using Interactive Fics extension on Google Chrome and Firefox when reading my fics. Enjoy. ;) ꕥ key: (y/n) - first name (l/n) - last name (e/c) - eye color (h/c) - hair color (s/c) - skin color

There are very few moments in life worth living for. Most things in life are mundane and repetitive. Humans aren’t as complex as they like to think. Humans are simple. Without realizing, it they put themselves into a routine. Eat, work, sleep, repeat. Eat, sleep, work, repeat. Eat, sleep, work, repeat.

Albert Einstein once said, “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results.” And yet, most humans never fall into insanity. How is it humanity survives such a dreary existence? The answer itself is simple. It is because despite living simple, tedious, monotonous lives, they still have those few moments.

Credence wanted nothing more than to experience one of these moments. Life for Credence was human. It repeated on an infinite loop, no matter how much he prayed for it to stop. Unlike most people’s lives, Credence’s routine wasn’t something to accept comfortably. There was no eat, sleep, work, repeat for him. His day started with an unsavory meal. It was usually porridge or stale bread. Then he would go out and hand out his “mother’s” flyers while she ranted in the streets. After that, they’d return to the orphanage where he’d surely get beat for doing something wrong. After being denied dinner, he would return to his room and cry silently in his bed, trying to dream of a life better than the one he lived. Then repeat.

Today was supposed to be no different. Today, Credence would have to hand out flyers around Times Square until nightfall. He hated handing out flyers in Times Square. It was bright, loud, and crowded, and the rich people from The Eggs always came down to shop and attend the cinema.

Rich people are assholes.

For the most part, Credence was invisible amidst the hustle and bustle of the square. People were too busy chatting amongst themselves or rushing to the nearest store or restaurant to even bat an eye at him. He didn’t mind it. He welcomed invisibility with open arms. Being seen usually ended with new bruises and scars. That's what happens when you’re an outsider, and Credence was an outsider in every sense of the word. He was an outsider to the rich people that pushed past him on the sidewalk, an outsider to the orphanage, and an outsider to himself. 

So, the lowly outsider stood hunched over in the middle of the sidewalk next to a cinema. Above him was a large marquee lit up by five hundred flashing bulbous lights. Mobs of people dappered up in evening dresses and suits, tipping their fedoras and clutching their mink coats excitedly entered the theatre. Credence looked at the flyers in his hands. Mary Lou gave him three hundred flyers to give out, and he barely gave out thirty. Most of the ones he did manage to force into someone’s hand ended up on the ground not ten feet away from him. They couldn't even bother to find a trash can. He wouldn’t dare return home with such a disappointing turnout.

The sun had long since set. The roar of the night became corrupted with wealthy party-goers. The Square was alive with chatter and street music. The streets were filled with intoxicated drivers flashing their fancy topless automobiles and the pretty women that shouted inside them. It was rather scenic, and Credence often found himself staring longingly at all the people whose lives seemed much happier than his own. It was one of the few ways he could pass the time.

He would watch couples walk the street hand in hand, seemingly in love. The woman would occasionally point out something on display she fancied and sweetly coherence her partner to buy it for her—to which they always did. He would observe a gang of college gentlemen around his age hop from bar to bar, obnoxiously laughing and roughhousing in the streets, cat-calling passing dames. In his mind, he was one of them. He pretended he lived in a world where he wasn’t an orphan and grew up in a wealthy family. He would have a mother who loved him and a father who was proud of him. He would go to college and make friends with other boys. Maybe he’d fall in love with a girl along the way. Someone sweet to please the folks back home. Then it would be him parading down the streets with a pretty girl around his arms in Times Square, and some other poor guy would be miserable in his place.

As his eyes wandered the streets, watching the snippets of other people's lives and inserting himself in them, his eyes landed on her across the street. She stepped onto the sidewalk in front of a boutique. Her hair fell around her shoulders in waves, neatly placed under a velvet green beret. She had on a slim fitting wool coat with mink trim over a lace-covered silk dress that shined in the night’s light. When she began to walk, his eyes followed her down the street like magnets. The way she seemed to carry herself was unlike the others around her. She wasn’t pink with liquor, stumbling in her heels on the pavement. Each step she took was one of elegance and confidence. He couldn't look away.

“Hey, watch it, punk!”

Credence found himself shoved to his hands and knees on the ground, the flyers in his hands dispersing in the air around him. He winced in pain and looked up to see a man angrily peering down at him.

“Watch where you’re goin’, freak!” The man cursed at him.

Credence kept his head down. “I’m sorry, sir.”

The man sucked his teeth and purposely stepped on some flyers in front of him as he walked by, pressing them into the wet sidewalk. Only when he was sure the man had gone did he find it safe to move. He ignored the soreness in the palms of his hands and tried his best to salvage as many flyers as he could. Passersby couldn't have cared less about the papers they ripped and crumpled under their perfectly pointed shoes. He picked up what little there was left unscathed—about a hundred at least. He was lucky most of them were still stacked together. He went to collect the last salvageable stack across from him when another pair of (s/c) dainty hands reached for them.

Credence’s eyes landed on a pair of green pumps pointed at him. His eyes trailed up past long legs shielded from the cold by nude stockings, green silk, and tawny fur until they met painted red lips and glossy (e/c) eyes. Up close, she was much more captivating. He could now make out her soft, round features and see how her (h/c) curls perfectly framed her face. Her cheeks were dusted a lush red. Whether it was from the early winter chill, or a detail of her makeup was unknown. Either way, she was stunning. It took him longer than it should have for him to notice the flyers she was holding out for him to take.

Credence awkwardly stumbled to his feet, keeping his eyes trained on the tips of her shoes to avoid her gaze. Even in his slouched state, he towered over her, but somehow he still appeared small.

“I saw that.” Her warm voice filled his ears, catching him off guard.

He lifted his head to look at her once more. “What?”

The girl looked in the direction the man from earlier had left and frowned.  “The prick who knocked you over was half-seas over! He could barely tell his left foot from his right! If he had, he would have seen that it was his fault knocking you to the ground like that.”

Credence didn’t know what to say. That was the most anyone had ever said to him without spewing insults his way. Even more peculiar was that the strange girl talking to him was trying to defend him. His awkward speechlessness didn’t seem to phase her in the slightest. Instead, her targeted vexed expression relaxed into a warm smile.

She urged the flyers towards him once more. “Sorry about your papers. I don’t think there’s much left to save.”

He carefully took the papers from her hands, noting how perfectly manicured her nails were. “It’s okay... thank you.”

“No need to thank me. No sense in being praised for common decency, right?”

Credence found himself speechless. He wasn't sure how to respond to such a statement. It was definitely something he should be grateful for. Most people wouldn’t look twice at him struggling on the street, let alone go out of their way to help.

The girl spoke through his silence. “You don’t talk much, do you?” She chuckled.

He shamefully bowed his head. “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” she quickly assured him. “Sometimes, I think people talk too much. I don’t think people should say things they don’t need to, otherwise, words lose all valuable meaning. You know what I mean?”

He nodded slowly. “I think so.”

She seemed pleased with his answer, her smile growing ever so slightly. It wasn’t long before it was replaced with another frown. Unlike before, this wasn’t a frown of annoyance, but concern. Her brows turned upward and her red lips parted to let out a sharp gasp. She looked at him clearly for the first time, her eyes wandered over his slender form and taking in his appearance.

“Goodness! Aren’t you cold?” She asked, her voice laced with worry.

Credence shrugged half-heartedly. He was used to the cold by now. He only had a handful of clothes to begin with. He didn't have the luxury of having clothes that match the changing weather, he could only wear whatever clothes fit him from the donation pile. The warmest garment he obtained this winter was an old navy blue suit best designed for autumn’s chill, but useless against winter’s cold. She found it hard to believe he stayed in the cold for so long without freezing to death. Credence thought that was a bit of an exaggeration. It was a particularly cold November night, enough to keep the patches of ice and snow that had been shoveled to the gutters intact. With every shaky breath he took, a puff of white mist would follow. His nose and the tips of his ears were permanently colored red and, given his natural pale complexion, made him look rather sickly. But, he bore through it because he had experienced far worse.

Without warning, the girl took the liberty of placing her palms on the back of his hands. The gentle action was so alien, he flinched when he felt her warm skin.

“Your hands are like ice!” She gasped. “They’re two degrees short from falling off!”

It must have been true because the feeling of her hands was enough to send a fiery warmth throughout his body. Such affection was so foreign to him, he began to doubt it really happened. It wouldn't have been the first time his mind played tricks on him. Perhaps he was home in his bed, lucidly dreaming about a chance encounter with a pretty woman. In a moment, he would wake up, and the warm feeling of a woman’s touch would turn cold, and he’d find himself alone in his room again.

His theory was swiftly disproven when he felt her hands gently squeeze his. As if she had the brightest idea of the decade, the woman’s face lit up.

She took a step closer. “Say, why don’t I get you some tea to warm you up? There’s a coffee shop still open a few blocks away—I could drive you in my Ford!”

Credence blushed and swallowed. His eyes darted around nervously. “I’m not sure I should...” He mumbled.

“We can stand here in the streets like a couple of gulls if you’d like, but I’m not going to leave you out here to freeze, so you might as well say yes,” she smirked.

He wanted to say yes. But there was a voice inside him that warned him not to go. It was the same nagging tone Mary Lou barked in his ear. His mind spiraled, spewing scenarios of his adopted mother’s fury. He should be home by now. She never liked it when he returned home late. She would beat him again. She might even ice him—something she did when she was truly furious with him. The thought of it made his blood run cold.

“I-I can’t,” he stammered. “M-Mother is expecting me home—she’ll be wondering where I am.”

The woman’s once playful expression slowly faded. Her brows gathered at the center of her forehead and her smile faded. Credence was trembling and stuttering, helplessly trying to explain why he had to return home. His words slurred together into a tremulous speech. Passing pedestrians gave patronizing stares, actively avoiding the pair and whispering amongst themselves. The woman placed a comforting hand on Credence’s shoulder, silencing him almost immediately.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” She said softly. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I didn’t mean to upset you by it.”

She looked him in his eyes and offered a kind smile. There was a skip of his heart. A strange feeling weighed in his chest he had never felt before.

“Why don’t I drive you?” She suggested. “That way you can be home twice as fast!”

Credence took a moment to think about it. He found it increasingly impossible to say no. Against his better judgment, he found himself wanting to extend their encounter, if even just for a minute. He had the smallest inference that if he said no, it would disappoint her. The thought of disappointing her was something he didn't want to do. He felt obligated to appease her. She had shown him a kindness that he may never get again. He thought he could at least keep her pleased.

“Okay,” he relented.

The girl grinned up at him and linked her arm around his. His cheeks grew warm, and he tucked his chin to his chest to hide his blush. Not that she would notice either way. She gingerly led him down the street, trying to engage him with small talk. He tried to listen, but he would get distracted whenever he felt her chest brush up against him. She was so close and so warm. Her touch burned through the thin material of his jacket and made his skin tingle. He could smell her perfume, like lavender and vanilla.

Such an alluring scent it was. It smelled familiar and sweet in its flowery nature. It reminded him of the transition from spring to summer, when the flowers became the most vibrant and fruit ripened to perfect sweetness. He wished he could smell it every day. It would be a refreshing change from the stench of mildew and boiled cabbage he often smelled. He wondered if she always smelled so sweet.

“So, what’s with the pamphlets? Are you a part of that Second Salemers organization?” she asked, pulling him out of his fantasies. He looked down at her and saw her looking up at him expectedly. He couldn’t help but grow hot with embarrassment.

“Y-yes,” he answered.

“Really? So, you believe in witches?” She teasingly wiggled her fingers in his face.

"My mother does,” He answered.

“How interesting,” she thought aloud. “I can’t say that I believe in witches, but if they do exist I wouldn’t mind.”

“You wouldn’t?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I mean, they’re human like us, right? People tend to demonize things they don’t understand. Just because they’re different doesn't mean we have to fear or prosecute them. I think we should embrace each other’s differences and learn to appreciate them, rather than forcing everyone to assimilate to one idea of normalcy. If we do that, then no one would be unique. We’d all be the same.”

He listened closely as she spoke. He was absolutely fascinated by her. It was rather profound, the way she thought. Most people would disagree with her sentiments, especially his mother. The world Credence knew was built on a system of separation. A system that separated classes, races, sexes, and the able-bodied—a system he was a victim to. Never once had he met someone who desired to rid of it just as much as he did, and he certainly didn’t expect to hear such scrutiny from someone who seemed to benefit from it.

When she finished her societal criticism, she stopped in her tracks and craned her neck up to face Credence.

“Excuse my rambling,” she flushed. “I talk nonsense when I go deep in thought. Don’t mind me, I probably sound crazy.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy,” Credence spoke up. “I wish everyone thought the way you think.”

Their eyes locked in a moment of tenderness. His bold sentiments were enough to make her heart skip a beat; unbeknownst to him. Their intimate trance was broken when a passing car flashed its blinding lights in their eyes, causing the girl to release her grip around Credence’s arm. The loss of contact made his arm feel too light; as if someone had taken a piece of his arm away.

The girl let out a sheepish chuckle. “Well, this is it,” she said as she walked over to the luxurious motor car parked on the side of the street. Luxurious seemed like an insult of a descriptor for the magnificent opulence of the machine. The streetlight illuminated the pearl-colored metal that matched the white-rimmed tires. Gold embellishments lined the rim. Tawny leather seats contrasted the exterior and matched the fabric roof. It was something Credence had only seen in advertisements.

“She’s a bit much, right?”

Credence hadn’t realized how apparent the astonishment written on his face was. He expected the girl to laugh at him, but the girl didn’t find joy in his culture shock. She was nervous, as if she were ashamed of her possession, like he had just discovered her most shameful secret.

“She was a gift from my father,” she felt the need to explain. “It’s not that I’m ungrateful or anything, I truly am. It’s just that I would never have bought something so ritzy for myself.”

“I like it,” said Credence.

His words seemed to relax her otherwise tense demeanor. “I’m glad you do,” she smiled as she opened the door. He watched her slide into the driver's seat. He approached the machine cautiously, eyeing the foreign object skeptically. The girl watched him closely, an amused smirk curling her lips.

“You’ve never ridden in a car before, have you?” She asked. Credence shook his head.

“I promise there’s nothing to worry about,” she chuckled. “I happen to be an excellent driver. My father wouldn’t have given me one so expensive if I wasn’t.”

This was true. Such a beautiful car wouldn’t be gifted to someone who would evidently wreck it. The girl pats the empty passenger seat invitingly, urging him to get inside.

Credence slid into the passenger seat, the cool leather seeping through the thin fabric of his suit, sending shivers down his spine.

“Here.” The girl reached in the back seat of the car and pulled out a large grey blanket. “The car will get warmer as we drive, but this should be good for now.”

Credence placed his papers on his lap and reached for the blanket.

“Wait,” she stopped him, a small frown appearing on her features. “You’re bleeding.”

Credence followed her stare to his left hand. He turned his palm upward to find the healing wounds on his palms had reopened. He didn’t notice the sting of the cuts before, but now his hand burned with the slightest movement. He couldn’t help but feel exposed. He hated his hands. They were ugly. Permanently blemished with raised scars that formed from healing and reopening and healing and reopening at contact with his mother's belt. It was unsightly. He shied away from her, mortified. She must’ve found them just as repulsive.

But the girl didn’t seem phased by his calloused and scarred hands at all. She didn’t hesitate to reach inside her breast pocket and pull out a pink handkerchief to wrap around Credence’s hand. Again he could feel her warmth. Her soft hands caressed his skin, pulling him closer. She handled him gently, delicately folding and wrapping the silk fabric around his cuts. She glanced at him as she did so, only to find him avoiding her gaze with his chin tucked into his shoulder.

“I'm sorry,” he muttered as she tended to him.

“You’re sorry?” She let out a breathy chuckle. “And what are you sorry for, exactly?”

“I-I don’t know,” he stammered. “For making you drive me home. For ruining your handkerchief,” he said.

The girl sighed as she tightened the cloth around his hand and tied it into a bow to keep it in place. “Bunny, you’re not making me do anything. I insisted, remember?” She reminded him. Credence felt the entirety of his face grow hot. He turned to face her again, only to be met with the same (e/c) eyes and kind smile she had before. His heart felt as though it were beating a mile a minute.

“And don’t worry about my handkerchief,” she adds. “I have dozens of them. They’re more for looks anyway, I never use them.”

Credence nodded and silently thanked her. She gave his hand another squeeze before leaning back in her seat and starting the car. The car made a sound like a lion and roared to life. The seats trembled beneath them, and the headlights lit the road ahead. When the car jerked into drive, Credence felt uneasy. She drove the car well, and he suspected that she was driving at a slower rate for his benefit, but the feeling of the car moving made his stomach churn with excitement and fear. He walked everywhere he went. He’d taken the subway once before when he was younger, but somehow this was different. He fidgeted in his seat, finding anything to distract himself from the tight feeling in his stomach. His eyes fixated on his hands, brushing his fingers against the smooth fabric of the handkerchief. It was colorfully embroidered with flowers and lacey patterns. He followed the design with his eyes until they came upon two scripted letters embroidered in gold on the corner that wasn’t tied into a knot.

“Are these your initials?” He asked to distract himself with small talk.

The girl gasped dramatically. “I never introduced myself, did I? How rude of me! I’m practically a stranger and here I am driving you around Manhattan without giving you a proper introduction.”

The girl took one hand off the wheel and held it out in front of him. “My name’s (y/n) (l/n).”

Credence took her hand and shook it lightly. “I’m Credence. Credence Barebone.”

“Credence. What an odd name. I like it,” she grinned before pulling her hand back. “So, where am I taking you, Credence?”

He told her he lived in the old chapel on Pike Street. She fell flustered while trying to explain she didn’t know exactly where that was. Credence then told her she was going the right way, and if she kept going straight, he would tell her when to turn. While they drove, she did her best to get to know Credence. He answered every question she asked with a short and vague response. She didn’t ask him many questions to begin with. She mostly talked about herself or the people she knew, like her family and friends. Almost everything reminded her of them.

He figured she did it to make him feel more comfortable. He didn’t mind. He enjoyed hearing her talk. While driving, she saw a dress in a boutique and mentioned that her friend, Darla, would love to have a dress just like it. When they passed a tea shop, it reminded of her mother, who only drank earl grey tea; which, to her, is the most boring of teas. On the sidewalk, there was a stray cat running into an alleyway. She told him how much she wanted a pet cat as a child, but she couldn’t get one because her father was allergic.

He couldn’t help but be enthralled by her. The more she talked, the more relaxed he became. He stole glances at her when she wasn’t looking. Watching her lips move as she talked, outlining the bridge of her nose and the curve of her cheek. He had been staring so intently he hadn’t even realized she’d asked him a question.

“Credence?” Her voice filled his ears.

“Yes?” He answered.

“I asked if I turn here.”

Credence turned to look out the window and saw that they had stopped at the corner of Pike Street. It was a quiet neighborhood filled with old apartments that had dim windows and unfriendly doors. Sticking out like a tabby cat among tigers was the Church of the Second Salemers. A rickety thing dwarfed by the buildings that surrounded it. Credence’s heart sank. If only the ride was a little longer.

“I can get out here,” he told her.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he nodded.

Her lips twitched into a bittersweet smile. “Alright,” she simpered. “Well, it was nice meeting you.”

“It was nice meeting you too,” He said truthfully.

There was a beat of silence. The two sat awkwardly, not really knowing how to say goodbye. Credence stared at his hands in his lap and began to untie the handkerchief.

“Keep it,” she stopped him before he could. “To remember me by.”

Would this really be the last time? He knew that she meant nothing by it, but hoped he didn't have to remember her. He wanted to see her again. He didn’t want it to end.

He gripped the cloth tightly in his hand. “Thank you.”

He reluctantly opened the car door and stepped onto the slushy street, closing the door behind him. She waved at him through the window, to which he returned in a less enthusiastic manner. He took a step back onto the sidewalk and watched as she drove down the street until she disappeared around the corner.

“Goodbye... (y/n),” he whispered.

It had been weeks since Credence’s chance encounter, and ever since his mind was consumed with thoughts and fantasies of (y/n) (l/n). Everything reminded him of her. The melting snow on the ground, the smell of flowers that mimicked her perfume when he passed the floristry, passing women in mink coats and tea shops; they all emulated her.

He often thought about how different things would have been if he did what he wanted that night. Would she be with him now had he gone to the café when she’d offered? Would she have liked to know him? Would she have enjoyed his company? The more he thought about it, the more he wished he’d taken the risk—his mother be damned.

Now all he had were memories and theories of what could have been. Though, fantasizing became his new favorite pass time. Reminiscing about her was one of the only things that gave light to his otherwise dark, mundane life. Like right now, he was thinking of what it would be like to make her laugh while scooping porridge into bowls for the orphans to eat.

He thought her laugh would sound feathery and jovial; the kind of laugh that makes you want to smile and laugh with her.

“You’re smiling.”

Credence was pulled from his thoughts by his sister, Chastity. He looked to the side and saw her smirking into the pot. “What?”

“It’s not just today,” she says. “You’ve been... different lately. Happier, I think. Always smiling to yourself. Did something happen?”

“No.”

“Did you meet someone or something?” She persisted.

Credence scoffed. “How could I have met someone?” He refuted.

Chastity she glimpsed at Credence skeptically. “I guess not,” she hummed, much to his relief.

“Doesn’t explain why you’re blushing, though,” she smirked.

Credence’s cheeks burst into flames as he attempted to sputter an explanation. Chastity giggled to herself, finding amusement in teasing him.

“What’s going on, children?”

The sickeningly sweet voice was enough to raise the hair on the back of their necks and shudder their hearts. They turned around, craning their necks up to the banister. Mary Lou Barebone towered over them just as menacingly as she could in her own prim and proper way.

“Nothing, mother,” Chastity answered for them. “Credence was just telling me a joke.”

“This is no time to be joking,” she scolded. “We have a very important meeting today with Father Blackwell, and I will not allow distractions. We can't lose focus. This is our chance to spread our message to the church— to the city! You should be preparing, not laughing.”

“I’m sorry, mother,” Credence apologized.

“Don’t let it happen again,” she warned, before sauntering away.

Even in her absence, Credence couldn’t find the will to relax the rest of the morning. The threat of her looming presence was far too great. After the orphans had finished their meal and left, Chastity washed all the dishes while he cleaned the dining hall. Once they finished their menial tasks, Modesty came downstairs to tell them Mary Lou wanted them to hurry and dress in their best attire for Father Blackwell.

Father Blackwell was the priest of St. Patrick’s Cathedral. He was the most famous priest in New York City and the priest of the mayor. Mary Lou was very anxious to present her case to him. According to her, once Father Blackwell hears her pleas and shares it with the church, the city would finally begin to take her seriously and put a stop to the heresy festering right under their noses.

So she believed.

It was Sunday. Today they would attend a mid-day service and attempt to get counsel with the priest. Though, Credence doubted Father Blackwell would even see them. As he got dressed, he looked himself over in the mirror. His ‘best’ attire was a dark plum suit so dark it looked black if you weren't paying attention. It made his already pale skin look even fairer and darkened the color of his raven hair and russet eyes. It was the only suit that fit him perfectly and had few blemishes. He’d probably look like a proper gentleman if his mahogany shoes weren't so terribly worn due to them being the only pair he owned.  

He took the matching hat off his dresser and put it on. Hidden underneath it was the pink handkerchief. He took the piece of fabric in his hands and held it up to his nose. It smelled like her. Remnants of her perfume still lingered between its stitches. He was grateful she allowed him to keep her handkerchief. He felt foolish for ever trying to part with it. It was the only proof he had that she existed; that their brief night encounter had truly happened.

“What are you doing?”

Credence instinctively hid the cloth behind his back, turning around to see Mary Lou standing in his doorway.

“I was straightening my tie,” he says, his voice wavering slightly.

Mary Lou looked him over for a moment, trying to find something out of place. “Come now,” she orders, having found no reason to torment the boy. “We’re leaving.”

She walked away. The sound of her heavy footsteps thumping down the stairs was Credence’s signal to breathe again. He pulled the handkerchief from his back and folded it neatly before hiding it underneath his pillow.

On their way to the cathedral, Mary Lou gave each of them a stack of flyers. She wanted them to hand out flyers to the congregation once the service ended while she talked with Father Blackwell. If there was one thing about Mary Lou, she was passionate and determined. When she set her sights on something, she will do everything in her power to execute it. She’d been planning this meeting for weeks. She readied herself in the only way she knew how: through constant prayer and tedious preparation. In a way, Credence was thankful for it. When Mary Lou became enlightened on an alternative approach, she was far too busy focusing on it to bother him. It was one of the few windows of relative freedom he had, and they came once in a blue moon. This meeting could mark the end, or the beginning, of this liberation.

Sitting in the pews during service, he could hardly concentrate. St. Patrick’s was a magnificent building, an authentic replica of the renaissance with its high, arched ceiling, stone engravings, and vibrant stained glass windows. It was the epitome of class and beauty. So, naturally, it would be the one church favorited by the high society. Wealthy families filled the better half of the sanctuary. While Credence and his family sat in the back with the rest of the commoners, they filled the front pews with tailored suits, mink coats, and Sunday hats. As Father Blackwell preached to the congregation, Credence searched the pews for a familiar face.

He knew his chances of seeing her were low, but he couldn't help but hope one of those Sunday hats would turn around and reveal those sparkling (e/c) eyes. His leg shook nervously, his eyes darting from one aisle of pews to another. It only stopped when a firm hand tightly gripped his thigh.

“Pay attention,” Mary Lou whispered, malice laced in her tone.

Credence swallowed, his body tensing immediately, afraid of even moving an inch in her presence. He turned his attention from the pews to the altar. Father Blackwell was standing in front of his pedestal, reading a scripture.

“We are living in a godless time,” He said. “Satan parades in the streets, preying on our sons and daughters! When the night comes, our children leave and venture into the streets. The devil and his minions tell them to wear promiscuous evening attire, commit sodomy, and fornication! Tempting them into Speakeasies to drink the Devil’s urine and feast on the bodies of Lilith’s daughters! Our city has become the devil’s playground. There is no God out there. Only sin.”

Flashes of her face imprinted in his mind. Credence frowned and tried to push it from his thoughts, but he couldn’t. His thoughts became consumed by her. As Father Blackwell spoke, he began to envision things he knew he shouldn’t.

“‘The body is not meant for sexual immorality, but for the Lord, and the Lord for the body.’” Father Blackwell reads. “Don’t you see? It isn’t ‘fashion’ or ‘modernity’. The devil has infested the media to infect our minds. He wants to taint our bodies to further stray us from God. ‘Flee from sexual immorality. Every other sin a person commits is outside the body, but the sexually immoral person sins against his own body’... and therefore, is a sin against God.”

His cheeks burned, and he prayed nobody would notice. He’d never thought of her like this before. Yet, somehow, the sermon unlocked one of his most shameful desires. He imagined the feeling of her warm body pressed against his. He reminisced about the feel of her soft skin. He pictured the curves of her lips, chest, and hips. He wondered how they would feel on his lips. Would they be just as soft?

“Brothers and Sisters, we must rid ourselves of all sin. Protect your children, for the devil, has his eyes set on them. The greatest sin against God is the polluting of our holy bodies. We must practice modesty and chastity. Only then can we be saved... Let us pray."

The congregation bowed their heads and listened as Father Blackwell lead the closing prayer.

The priest’s words echoed in the back of his mind. Even as he and his sisters handed flyers to those exiting the church, his mind would drift back to the sermon. Mary Lou had left him and his sisters to talk with Father Blackwell. He watched as she walked down the aisle to meet him at the altar. Father Blackwell was already conversing with a member of the church, a stocky man wearing a cream-colored suit and matching hat.

She nearly approached him before another man stopped her. Credence recognized him as Deacon Ripley. Deacon Ripley was as galling as his face would suggest. His face was pointed and far too wrinkled for his age. Deacon Ripley had a habit of sticking his unusually large nose into other people’s business. He reminded Credence of a sewer rat, just as unsightly and full of shit.

He couldn’t make out what was being said, but from the looks of it, Deacon Ripley was reprimanding Mary Lou. Mary Lou did her best to get Father Blackwell’s attention, but he and the mustachioed gentleman ignored her calls. Mary Lou was never really one to lose her composure, but in her desperation, she attempted to divert Deacon from obstructing her access to Father Blackwell. She rushed to the altar, calling Father Blackwell. She began stating her case, catching the attention of those still left in the church.  

“There are evil forces at work, Father!” She shouted. “Heretics walk freely amongst us, doing the devil's work!”

Deacon Ripley came behind Mary Lou. “Pay no mind to her, Father Blackwell, she speaks fabrications.”

“This is not fiction, Father, I can assure you,” she says. “I have seen them with my own eyes. The devil’s concubine.”

“What is this you speak of?” Father Blackwell demands.

“Witches, Father. There are witches here in New York, working right under our noses—”

“I told you, Father, she’s insane,” Deacon Ripley cuts in.

“I am not crazy,” Mary Lou snarks. “And if we don’t stop them now, there will be hell to pay!”

“Enough, Ms. Barebone,” says Father Blackwell. “I will hear no more of these fairytales. Please, have decency.”

Father Blackwell turned to the gentleman and guided him to a back door where they disappeared from the sanctuary. Mary Lou, still determined to be heard, began shouting after them, preaching her testimony of witches infiltrating New York. This resulted in her being handled by a few clergymen and escorted off the premises. People whispered and gossiped as the Barebones walked by. It wasn’t hard to tell Mary Lou was humiliated. She put on a brave face, clenching her jaw and holding her head high. She grabbed Modesty by the hand and walked away. Credence and Chastity followed close behind with their heads down.  

It had been about a week since the church incident. Mary Lou hadn’t left her room since. The only one to see her was Modesty. Mary Lou always had a soft spot for the younger sibling. In any other circumstance, Credence would have taken such behavior as a blessing. Whatever wrath Mary Lou was feeling wasn’t being directed at him. But the looming threat of her presence left him little to no space to relax.

Credence was helping Chastity make pamphlets in the dining hall when the sound of Mary Lou’s door opening and closing halted their process. Small footsteps trotted down the stairs and into the hall.

“Credence,” Modesty called. Credence stood from his seat and walked to Modesty, who handed him a stack of flyers once he was close enough. “Mother wants you to pass out these flyers around town. She said not to come back until they’re all gone.”

Credence took the flyers in his hands and reluctantly walked to the door. It was snowing today. It wasn’t cold enough for it to stick, but it was cold nonetheless. He already wore his warmest clothes, which happened to be an old navy sweater vest, grey wool suit jacket, and matching trousers. He threw on a grey fedora and ventured into the streets.

He didn’t mind handing out flyers. Anything to get out of that awful place was enough for him. It was just about noon when he left. He thought it best to head towards the inner city. It was Saturday, so there were sure to be people bustling in and out of shops today. It usually wasn’t a long walk, Credence was used to walking long distances. However, the nipping cold slowed his pace a bit.

In the first hour, he spent walking around midtown and passing flyers around the park. Handing out flyers in winter rarely yields any results. People are far too cold and miserable to bother pulling their hands from their pockets to grab a piece of paper. After a very unsuccessful hour, he migrated further north, closer to Times Square.

“Credence?”

Credence stopped in his tracks, his heart jumping wildly in his chest. He slowly turned around to where the voice had come from. There, in all her grace, was the last person he expected to see. He could see her even more clearly than the last night he saw her. This time, she wore a large, white fur coat that stopped at her ankles and a matching fur hat. In her gloved hands, she carried a small beaded purse that glittered when light reflected off it.  In the day’s light, her skin radiantly glowed, much like her purse. Her eyes seemed bigger than what he remembered, mimicking that of a doll’s. They were enhanced by the brown eyeshadow that darkened her lids and the mascara that elongated her lashes. Today, her lips were raspberry pink instead of the deep red he remembered. Snowflakes nestled in the nooks of her curled (h/c) hair, making her appear even more angelic.

“Mi-Miss (l/n)?”

He hadn’t a moment to process her appearance before she rushed into his arms, catching him by surprise. She threw her arms around his neck and rested her chin on his broad shoulder. His hands instinctively gravitated to her waist, holding her steady as she stood on the tips of her toes. She felt lush in his arms, the heat from her body sent warmth spreading throughout his center. The expanse of his neck and cheeks blossomed into a dusty shade of rose. His mind raced as he tried to collect his thoughts. He was almost sure she could feel the rapid beating of his chest.

If she did, she didn’t seem to mind. She held onto him, squealing excitedly. “You don’t know how happy I am to see you!” She said between giggles. “I was hoping you’d be here!”

Credence raised his brows, swallowing the lump in his throat. “You... You were hoping?” he repeated.

She pulled away, falling back on her heels to look him in the eye. Her hands still held onto his arms. “Well, I wasn’t sure if I’d see you,” she says. “But every time I come down, I hope I do.”

“You visit often?” He asked.

“As much as I can,” she admits. “I live in Kings Point. Do you know where that is?”

He nodded. Kings Point was a village up North by the bay in an area commonly referred to as West Egg. Many wealthy families live there in their ritzy mansions, throwing parties, boating, and golfing.

“Yes, well, I can only visit on weekends. Mainly with friends. But, lately, I’ve made a habit of coming down on my own, since I met you.”

She had said it so casually he thought she must’ve not realized how it sounded. Had she been purposely coming to the city, hoping to cross paths again? A small smile formed on his lips.

Her hands slipped from his arms and returned to her side, much to his disappointment.

Just then, a man behind her coughed, drawing their attention. (y/n) looked back and gasped. “Oh! I’m sorry, Eddy. How rude of me! I completely forgot to introduce you.”

She stepped back to the man’s side. “Eddy, this is my friend Credence Barebone. I met him a few weeks ago in Town Square. Credence, this is Edmund Tully.”

Credence and the man made eye contact. The man, Edmund, was tall; even taller than him. He was built, with wide shoulders to match his thick neck and strong, clean-shaven jawline. His rectangular face was undeniably handsome, with strong, straight features Credence had only seen before on statues and hooded green eyes. His blond hair was almost completely hidden underneath his grey newsboy hat that matched the tailored grey suit he wore underneath a thick, black, fur-lined ulster.

Credence was already intimidated by the man. He was older, around his late twenties. If it wasn’t his overall overwhelming appearance that intimidated him, then it was definitely the pointed glower directed at him. (y/n) didn’t notice it. Her eyes were focused on him.

“It’s nice to meet you,” said Credence, bravely offering his hand.

Edmund looked down at Credence’s outstretched hand. “Yes, and you as well,” he said indifferently, reluctantly taking his hand and forcing a smile. (y/n)’s brows wrinkled slightly at the interaction as she looked between the two men.

When they stopped shaking hands, Edmund turned to (y/n). It was almost comical how drastically his expression changed when he looked at her. His face softened and his phony, tight-lipped smile became genuine.

“(y/n), darling, I’m afraid I have to go now,” He said.

“So soon?” She asked.

“Yes, actually. Your brother and I have a meeting with your father and Mr. Finnegan around lunch,” he explains.

“Oh, I see,” she hums in understanding. “Well, you better get going.”

“You’re right, I must.” He took a step closer to her. “It was lovely running into you today, (y/n).”

Credence watched as he bent down and placed a large hand on her waist. She too reached around to wrap your arm around his torso. He watched as the man kissed her right cheek before moving to kiss the other. This didn’t phase her at all. Instead, she smiled as if it happened all the time. Credence felt looked away, upset by the display. Why did he feel upset?

The two pulled apart, and Edmund began to walk away. “I’ll tell your brother you said hello, shall I?” He yelled.

“Yes! And tell him that mother wants him home by ten o’clock tonight!” (y/n) responded as she waved goodbye.

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Credence spoke up.

(y/n) looked back to face Credence. “I have two older brothers, actually,” she told him. “Aaron and Channing. Eddy is Aaron’s friend. They met at Oxford University. He and my brother both work for my father now, so he’s around often. He can be a bit... overbearing sometimes, but he means well.”

“And your other brother?”

“Channing is only a year older than me, so he’s twenty. He’s my best friend,” she revealed. “He isn’t here, though—in New York, I mean. He’s currently studying abroad in Japan.”

“Japan?”

“Crazy, isn’t it? Between you and me, I think he’s only there to follow this Japanese girl he met. And I don’t blame him! I met her before and she’s very beautiful, sweet too! Though, I do miss him a lot. Sometimes I wonder if I should have gone with him when I had the chance.”

Credence looked down at his feet as he listened. For some reason, the thought saddened him. Did she miss her brother so much that she would end up leaving for Japan one day? Would he never see her again? Would she miss him if she did? He didn’t want her to go. He wanted her to stay so they could keep meeting like this. So he could see her face and have her smile at him so kindly, like she always did. Her brother might miss her, but he needed her.

Credence felt so selfish for thinking such things. How could he possibly think he deserved her time? If he told her what he truly thought, how would she react?

As if she could read his thoughts, (y/n) took a step closer to him. He picked his head up to face her and saw that she was smiling up at him.

“But, if I had done that, then I wouldn’t have met you,” she says.

Just as quickly as his deprecating thoughts had come, they left once her words reached his ears. Credence could only stare at her in disbelief.

“And he sends me letters every month, so, I guess it's all right,” she chuckled. “So, how have you been?” She asked, bringing him out of his daze.

“I...I’ve been well,” he says.

“I’m glad,” she smiles. Her eyes travel down his form. A small crease forms in the middle of her brows as she tilts her head to the side. “You still haven’t gotten yourself a coat, I see.”

Credence looked down at his clothes as though he had forgotten what he had on. “No, I haven’t.”

She cocked her head to the side and furrowed her brows. “I suppose I could just buy you one.”

Credence shook his head, not wanting to inconvenience her for a second time. “You don’t have to do that,” he said.

“I wasn’t really asking,” she said.

“I’m fine,” he insisted. “Really.”

She stared at him for a moment, squinting her eyes slightly. “Fine, then.” She began unbuttoning her coat. Credence watched her, confused by the sudden action.

“W-What are you doing?” He asked.

“If you won't let me buy you a coat, then I won't wear one either,” she says simply.

Credence furrowed his brows. “But you’ll be cold.”

She scoffed. “And you’re not?”

Credence was rendered speechless. A small smirk curled on her painted lips. “Either you let me buy you a coat, or I won’t wear one at all. I can’t walk with you knowing you’re freezing and I’m perfectly comfortable.”

She was impossible. No matter what he says, she would always find a way to make him give in.

“O-Okay,” he concedes.

(y/n) grinned brightly, fixing her coat back over her shoulders and hooking her arm around his as she had once before.

“This will be fun!” She beamed.

She led him back in the direction she had come while eagerly telling him about the boutique she knew would have the best selection for him. He increasingly became more comfortable in her presence. He even properly engaged in conversation, much to her delight. And whenever she smiled up at him, he found himself smiling too.

The boutique wasn’t far—about three blocks away to be exact. It was a small blue shop with gold painted windows. Through them, Credence could see posed mannequins dressed in all kinds of fancy coats, dresses, and suits. Written above the entrance in the scripted font was a sign that read: Vendicci’s.

Upon entering the store, their ears were filled with Italian opera. The shop appeared to be empty. There were no other shoppers, and the front counter was left unattended. Credence followed her to the counter. On its surface was a small golden bell that she tapped lightly. The bell rang, signaling their presence.

Shuffling could be heard from the back of the shop, catching their attention. From the back of the shop, they could hear harsh whispers and unintelligible curses. A short, thin man came stumbling in. He had dark olive skin and chestnut brown curls that fell around his Grecian face. He was disheveled—the first three buttons of his pink dress shirt were unbuttoned, and the fabric of his pressed white pants were creased. Without looking, the man made his way to the back of the counter, mumbling in a language he couldn’t make out.

Following behind him was a woman equally disheveled in appearance. Her short black hair stuck up in odd places, and she had missed one button of her blouse. She wandered the shop, to mind some clothes on the rack as the man drew near to the front counter.

“Stupidi Americani... Sorry, we are closed for now. You can come back later when—,” The man stopped when his eyes landed on her.

(y/n) smirked. “Hello, Raül,” she waved.

“Bella!” He gasped and hurried towards her with open arms. “How wonderful to see you!” He said in a thick Mediterranean accent. He placed hands on her shoulders and pulled her in to kiss both of her cheeks. “You look even more lovely since the last I saw you.”

“It’s good to see you too, Raül,” she chuckled.

“Where have you been?” He pouts. “It’s been so long I’ve barely been able to survive without you.”

“I’m sorry, Raül, I’ve been trying to be more mindful of how I spend my money,” she explains.

“Mind your money here! I have so many new items you would look molto bella in. I saved them just for you,” he winked.

“That’s sweet of you, Raül. I promise I will come by and try them on at another time.”

Suddenly, the man became aware of Credence’s presence in the room. He looked at him like something had left an unpleasant taste in his mouth. Raül raised a skeptical brow and asked with pursed lips, “Is this man with you?”

“Yes, he is,” she says as a matter-of-fact. “We’d like to buy a coat. Something thick for the winter.”

Raül nodded and hummed, turning back to face her. “You’re just in luck,” he says. “Early this week I got a shipment straight from Italia: a fine selection of winter coats designed by Feliciano Romano himself.”

(y/n) gasped, clasping her hands together. “That’s fantastic! We’ll try those first!”

She took Credence by the arm and they followed him through the shop where they came upon a round archway covered by red velvet curtains. Raül pulled back the heavy curtains to reveal a separate room. It was small. The carpet was also red to match the curtains and the loveseats and chairs that decorated the room. In the center of the floor, was a circular platform. Above it was a circular ring of white drapes that had been pulled up. Across from the platform was a wall of mirrors, reflecting the room from different angles.

The woman from earlier had come in as well. With her, she brought along a rack filled with many expensive coats. She pulled it to the side of the room, right next to the platform. Raül thanked the woman with a playful pat on her buttcheek.

Credence blushed, having put two-and-two together about what was going on between the two co-workers before he and (y/n) had shown up. (y/n) was unfazed at all by the promiscuous interaction. Instead, she took off her coat and hat and threw them on one of the sofas facing the platform before taking a seat.

“Let’s begin!” Raül said excitedly.

“Stand up there, Credence.” (y/n) pointed to the platform. Credence did as he was told, and stepped onto the raised surface, awkwardly awaiting more instruction.

The dark-haired woman came up to Credence with a large coat in her arms. He didn’t need to put it on to know it wasn’t something that would suit him. She stood behind him and slipped the sleeves of the coat over his arms and shoulders. The coat itself was heavy enough to make him slouch slightly and tense his leg muscles to carry the added weight. The warm fabric engulfed his lanky form. It was made of strange, thick fur—not mink, but from another animal, he couldn’t guess. It was dark brown, and in some areas, it looked black. The length of the coat ended just above his ankles and the sleeves practically covered his hands, the tips of his fingers were all that were visible.

It was definitely a coat well suited for a more muscular type of man. It was the kind of coat that would be perfect for a large Russian mobster. However, on his lanky form, it just looked plain silly. (y/n) looked at him in the mirror, catching his eye.

“Do you like it?” She asks. “Be honest. I won’t buy you something you don’t like.”

“It’s fine,” he lied.

“Absolutely not!” Raül said as he took a step onto the platform and stood in front of Credence, looking him over intently. “I never thought I would say this to anyone, but, my dear, sable is not for you.”

“You don’t think so?” (y/n) chimed in.

“Miss (l/n)!” He gasped. “You are my most fashionable client! Tell me you don’t think this works for him!”

She looked him up and down, a smile stretching across her lips. “I think he looks cute,” she says. “like a cuddly bear.”

Credence blushed and shied away from her gaze. Raül tuts his tongue and rolls his eyes. “Well, he must be the skinniest bear in the forest,” he mutters as he pulls the coat off Credence’s shoulders.

“Want to try another one?” She asked. Credence nodded.

Raül went through the rack before pulling out another coat for him to try. He found one he thought might look best and took it off its hook before helping Credence try it on.

After he helped him slip his arms in, he took a step back to look him over. “How's this?”

It was a slim-fitting burnt orange fox fur coat that stopped halfway. It had a low collar and large brown buttons that trailed from his chest to the hem. He noticed how it was tighter around his waist and made his hips look bigger than he’d like. He thought it was a coat he would see on a woman. 

“It’s a bit bright for winter, don’t you think?” She pointed out.

“Nothing is ever too bright,” Raül argued.

She squinted at Credence’s reflection in the mirror, pondering the look. His face burned red and he silently pleaded she disliked the coat as well. His flustered expression made her stifle a fit of giggles. “I think we’ll try another one,” she smirked.

Raül sighs and slips the coat off Credence’s shoulders, much to his relief. The next coat was a black and white trench with large black buttons and a belt. Credence stood uncomfortably in front of the critical pair.

Raül crossed his arms, a small approving smile plastered on his lips. “Now this, I like!”

“I don’t know...” She hummed. “What do you think, Credence?”

“It’s itchy,” he says.

“It’s tweed,” Raül said, as though it made it better.

She giggled and looked at Raül. “Another?”

They went through several different coats, most of which were unflattering or uncomfortable. Credence thought the others were doing it on purpose — at least, he felt like she was. There was something about the playful smirk that curled the corners of her lips whenever he was dressed in a seemingly ridiculous or feminine coat that made him feel as though she had taken joy in dressing him up and watching his cheeks turn red from embarrassment whenever she expressed how ‘cute’ he looked. While there may have been no initial mal-intent when she initially insisted on buying him a coat, he was starting to feel like she was toying with him; teasing him for her own pleasure. 

Raül pulled another unsatisfying coat off of his shoulders only to replace it with another. The weighted coat comfortably slipped onto his shoulders. When Raül properly fit the coat onto him, he took a step back, a small smile gracing his features. Credence turned his neck to look back at (y/n) who had a similar expression of approval.

“Wow.” She whispered.

The coat was indeed impressive in a simplistic kind of way. It wasn’t too flashy or extraordinary. Just a simple black trench that fell to his knees. It was a sharp, angular cut, one that seemed to broaden his shoulders to imitate a somewhat muscular appearance. The shade of black complimented his pale skin and matched his raven locks, making him appear more porcelain than before. 

“Magnifico! So handsome, like a dark prince!” Raül cheered. His assistant then too voiced her agreement.

(y/n) moved from the sofa to the platform where Credence stood. She eyed him closely, circling him before stopping in his eye-view. She ran her hands up his arms, feeling the material under her skin. She dragged them up and across his shoulders, before stopping at his chest. Credence’s heart drummed against his chest, excited by her touch. He wondered if she could feel it through the coat.

“Do you like it?” she asked him.

“I do,” he says, truthfully this time.

She smiled and turned to face Raül. “We’ll take it!”

(y/n) left with Raül and the woman from earlier to pay for the dashing coat, leaving Credence alone in the dressing room. He looked himself over in the mirror, admiring how he looked in the black material. He couldn’t deny how good he looked in it. For the first time he looked, normal. Better than normal—he looked like a proper gentleman. Sure, a real ritz could snuff him out in a heartbeat, but to the average New Yorker, he could pass for someone on the same caliber as (y/n). It was like looking at the version of him he always wanted to be.

It wasn’t long before the fleeting fantasy soured. The rational part of his brain picked at the flaws of this entire interaction. How would he explain to his mother where he got such an expensive coat? If she saw him wearing it, she would definitely ask questions he was afraid to answer. Either way, he knew he couldn’t be seen with it on while she was around. But he couldn’t throw it away; not when she went through all the trouble of buying it for him. And it was such a nice coat... Credence shook the worries from his mind. He couldn’t think about it now. 

After (y/n) paid for the coat, the two bid Raül goodbye and ventured back out into the cold. Already, Credence noticed a stark difference of the cold with the coat protecting his skin. It dulled the nipping chill that never left during the winter months. 

“Much better, isn’t it? ‘Not cold’ my ass,” she snarked playfully. She fished around her coat pocket and pulled out a pair of black leather gloves. “Take these.”

Credence eyed the gloves questionably. (y/n) sighed and took his hand from his side, sliding the gloves on before doing the same with the other. “There,” she grinned. “I wasn’t sure if these were gonna be the right size, but look! They’re perfect!”

“But... you didn’t have to buy these for me,” said Credence.

“I didn’t buy them,” she says. “Raül gave them to me—well, to you. He says those gloves must go with that coat. I have to say I agree; they really complete the look.” She began walking down the street again, prompting him to follow her. “And don’t worry about the coat, okay? Like I said before, it’s on me,” she reminded him.

Credence still felt couldn’t accept something so valuable without thanking her. She bought him a coat because she cared about how he was feeling, just like when she helped him off the street all those weeks ago. He felt indebted to her—grateful to her. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he returned the favor tenfold. 

To her, this was obvious. She could tell buying the coat bothered him. He was so tense. He probably would never relax around her unless he somehow proved that he deserved to. Perhaps she can help him see. She glanced at the taller boy from the corner of her eye.

“But,” she sighed. “If you’re still looking for some way to repay me, I can think of something I’d like you to do.”

Credence perked up. “Really? What is it?”

She grins up at him, showing her pearly white teeth. “Go on a date with me.”

Credence’s eyes widened. “W-What?”

(y/n) chuckled. “If you don’t want to go on a date with me, that’s fine.”

“No!” He said all too desperately. He blushed at his own excitement. “I mean... Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“It’s why I suggested it, isn’t it?”

Credence blushed. A date? He’d imagined taking her on a date in his head about a hundred times. He thought of what he might say and do on the chance he got to be alone with her again. Maybe this time he’ll follow through.

“Okay,” he gave in. “Where do you want to go?”

“How eager are you!” She laughed. “I didn’t even say when and you’re already trying to sweep me off my feet, huh? Either that or you’re just trying to get rid of me.”

“T-That’s not how I meant it!” he stammered.

(y/n) giggled at his demise. “I’m just teasing you, Bunny. No need to turn so red,” she smirked.

She didn’t help his case when she slipped her arm between his to link their arms. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to her being so close to him. No matter how many times she touched him, he always managed to get flustered. It’s probably why she did it so much, just to see him blush.

“Now is as good a time as any,” she said while smiling up at him. “Are you hungry? I’m starving!”

They walked through the city together, arm in arm. Unlike last time, Credence attempted to be more interactive with her. (y/n) was definitely the more dominant converser, but his attempts to be more engaging with her didn’t go unnoticed. He asked her the questions that have been collecting in his head since they met.

He asked her what she did in her spare time (paint) and what her favorite food was (chocolate). He learned that she was a Columbia scholar currently on break and that she recently adopted a hairless cat named Onyx (it was the only cat her father wasn’t allergic to). Talking with her became easy. He even made her laugh a few times.

While they walked, Credence felt like they passed about twenty different restaurants and cafés he thought she would like. But whenever he thought they were about to stop, she kept going. He was wondering where exactly she was taking him. 

“Are we eating somewhere in particular?” He asked discreetly.

(y/n) nodded and hummed. “I’m taking you to one of the best places on earth. Salone’s! It’s not that far from here. It’s been a while since I’ve been, but I’m really craving it. Have you ever been there before?” She asked.

Credence shook his head. “Never,” he said, causing her to gasp dramatically.

“Oh, now we definitely have to go! What kind of person would I be if I let you go on living without experiencing God’s gift to man? And by ‘God’ I mean Dixie Salone, the owner.”

When they turned the corner, there was a small restaurant named Salone’s across the street. Taking precautious measures, (y/n) gingerly led Credence across the street and to the restaurant. When they opened the door, the smell of grease and peanuts filled the air. The place was reasonably packed, with average looking people all looking at them as they entered the room. (y/n) looked out of place in her rather extravagant attire, though now—with her on his arm and his new coat—he probably looked just as pretentious as she.

If (y/n) noticed the leering eyes of the other customers, she didn’t show it. Instead, she scoured the area for a place to sit, before landing on a booth tucked away in the back. They claimed the booth for themselves. Credence took the booth facing the door, shedding his outer attire and tucking it away in the seat corner. (y/n) slid into the seat across from him, shrugging off her coat and hat, revealing her clothes underneath.

Underneath the mound of fur, was a matching white dress. Unaccommodating to the weather, the dress underneath hung off her shoulders. It had long sleeves, but the upper half of her chest and her shoulders were exposed. Though, Credence figured when you have fur to wear over your clothes, it doesn’t matter much what you wear under it. The fabric was velvet, which must have also helped. From what he could see, it hugged her body well. Credence looked down at his hands on his lap, realizing he had been staring a bit too long. Lucky for him, she hadn’t noticed.

On the table were two menus placed before them. He looked down at the large printed sheet. Credence had never been to a restaurant before. He had eaten nowhere else but the church. He ate once a day (if he ate at all) and it was the same thing almost every time: porridge and stale bread. But on the menu before him, there was no porridge or stale bread at all. There was soup, steak, chicken, and almost every kind of pie. He felt his mouth watering just thinking about it. 

“Don’t bother looking at the menu,” (y/n) told him, gaining his attention. “I’m going to order for you. This place is really only good for two things, everything else is subpar, trust me.”

He looked at the menu again, mildly disappointed. He was looking forward to trying fried chicken. He took a moment to look around the diner. Most of the people there looked like working classmen: factory workers or nannies. Some still wore their uniforms under layers of sweaters and scarves. Others wore regular everyday clothes. Many of those who eyed them upon their entry returned their attention to their food and prior conversations. Though, there were a few that still snuck looks at their table in the back. Some were harmless, like the little girl who was staring at (y/n) in awe. Some were more menacing, like the rugged-looking man sitting on a stool by the counter who seemed annoyed by their presence.

(y/n) noticed that Credence’s eyes were shifting around the room pointedly. “Is something the matter?” She asked.

“It’s just...” He began. “I never thought you would be the type to eat at a place like this.”

“I guess it does seem a bit funny, huh? I look like someone who’d frequent an uptown steakhouse, right?” She chuckled. “Truth is, I’ve never had a big part in that lifestyle. Banquets and fine dining, I mean. It’s all fake and pretentious. But this—” she gestured to the room around them. “This is real. The food is real. The people are real. Do you know what I mean?”

Credence nodded. “I think so.”

“Some of my favorite memories take place here. My father would take me here when I was little on his days off. It was one of the happiest times of my life. I guess I wanted to relive that with you today.”

Credence took notice in the look in her eyes. He could tell that recalling such memories saddened her. He didn’t like seeing her upset, but, at the same time, he was glad she wanted to share something so important to her with him. One day, he hoped to do the same.

Not long after that, a young woman dressed in a red dress and a white apron with a stitched red S on the bottom corner walked up to their table with a notepad in hand.

“Hello and welcome to Salone’s, what can I get the lovely couple today?” The waitress asked. Credence couldn’t help but blush after being referred to as a couple.

“Yes,” (y/n) said happily. “Today we’ll—” she stopped mid-sentence before glancing at Credence across the table. She smirked and waved the waitress down to her.

The waitress smiled and got down on her knees next to her. (y/n) grabbed a menu and held it in front of their faces so Credence couldn’t tell what she was whispering. He watched in confusion as (y/n) whispered their order to the waitress.

The waitress nodded, and every once in a while he heard her giggle. “Yes, alright... okay... got it!”

The woman stood back up on her feet and smiled down at the two diners. “If you two just wait here, I will be right back with your orders,” she said cheerfully before trotting off.

“What did you get?” Credence asked once she had left.

(y/n) shook her head and held her fingers to her lips to imitate the motion of closing a zipper. “It’s a surprise,” she winked.

Credence nodded, having decided to trust her decision. In the meantime, while they waited for their food, (y/n) engaged in another conversation with him. It was a continuation of their earlier conversation about pets. (y/n) wanted to know if Credence had any pets. When he told her he never had a pet, she asked him what kinds of animals he likes. He told her that he never met many other animals before. He’d seen many rats in his life, but that just came with the joys of living in New York City. But he thought it appropriate to mention he once made a bond with a stray cat when he was younger.

It was a black skinny thing, with a chewed off ear, and part of its tail was missing. One day, when he’d been left out on the streets as a punishment (he told her he was walking home), the cat came up to him and was begging for food. Lucky for the cat, he had a piece of bread in his pocket. He gave it to the sad creature, and it ate it from his hand. He’d never pet a cat before then, but he liked how it’s fur felt when he brushed it, and the sounds of the cat’s meows. After he told her that story, he stated that he probably liked cats the best.

“We’re just alike! Maybe one day I can take you to meet Onyx,” she suggested.

The corners of Credence’s lips curled up softly. “I’d like that,” he said.

Just then, the woman from earlier came up to them with their order on a large silver platter. The waitress placed the hot food onto the table, along with their drinks before leaving them to enjoy their meal. Credence looked down at the plate of food in front of him.

“Burgers?”

“Burgers,” she repeated excitedly. “If there’s one thing this place can make, it’s a damn good burger. Well, that and a mean vanilla milkshake! The fries aren’t half bad either,” she says as she pops one in her mouth.

Meat and fried potatoes filled his nostrils. The burger was as big as the plate it came on. The sesame bun was soft and round, and the edges appeared to be lightly toasted. Crunchy lettuce, cheese, and two slices of bacon coated in mayonnaise and ketchup poked out from the sides on top of a thick beef patty. (y/n) smiled in amusement as she watched Credence carefully take the burger in his hands. His eyes were practically sparkling with excitement.

“Go on,” she encouraged. “Take your first bite! I want to see the look on your face when the juicy meat hits your tongue.”

Credence glanced at her across the table, before opening his mouth and taking a generous bite out of the hefty burger. Various flavors overstimulated his senses. The beef and pork collided with the onions, lettuce, cheese, and condiments to create an unfamiliar taste he’d never experienced before. The meat was succulent and juicy, just as she said it would be. The cut of the beef was thick and chewy, and the bacon was crispy and flavorful. The bun was soft and crunchy and tasted as though it was toasted with butter. It wasn’t stale at all! It was like it came fresh out of the bakery just before it wound up on his plate. 

It was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

“Well?”

Credence hadn’t even realized he closed his eyes, but when he opened them, (y/n) was looking at him expectantly. He swallowed the delicious food and licked his lips greedily, chuckling softly.

“It’s good,” he smiled.

A wide grin stretched across her painted lips. It was the first time he’d laughed around her.

“You have a pretty smile, you know that?” She told him.

Credence’s cheeks reddened for the thirtieth time that day, and he lowered his head to hide it from her.

(y/n) chuckled softly before taking his basket of fries. “Here.” She took the red ketchup bottle from the side of the table and drizzled the condiment over the fries in a zig-zag pattern before sliding the basket back towards him.

“Thank you,” he muttered bashfully through a mouth full of food.

“You’ve got ketchup on the side of your mouth,” she told him.

Without thinking, he stuck his tongue out to lick the spot clean. (y/n) smirked in amusement, watching him do so, finding it cute.

“Did I get it?” He asked.

She snickered and reached her hand across the table to the side of his face. Her thumb gently swiped the corner of his mouth. The action took him by surprise. He sat tensely as she did it. It was a quick moment— a gentle touch, and yet his entire body burned with heat at the contact. When she pulled away and leaned back in her seat, the warmth still lingered. She looked him in the eyes, not breaking contact as she brought her thumb to her lips. The pink flesh of her tongue darted out and lewdly flattened against the pad of her thumb, cleaning it of the ketchup.

Credence felt his body ache at the simple action, the tips of his ears burning incredibly hot. (y/n), who was by no means ignorant to the effect she had on him, could only smirk and marvel at the rosy tint of his cheeks. Credence was grateful she didn’t draw attention to it. It was easier to hide how flustered she made him when they were outside, and he could blame his feverishness on the cold. Now that they were inside and it was warm, it made it harder to deny. He couldn’t bear being teased by her further, he felt like he might explode. She must have sensed it too, because she made no other moves to make him blush after that. She acted as though it didn’t happen and continued to eat her food. Credence then too returned to eating, praying that the ache he felt went away. 

It did, with the help of other distractions. (y/n) continued innocent conversation as they ate to keep the peace. As they talked she could tell that her earlier display still hindered his interaction. While they talked, she’d notice his eyes would linger on her lips rather than her eyes; and whenever they did lock eyes, he would trip over his words and look away.

It was cute, she thought.

Before she could decide to tease him further, the waitress had returned to their table, having noticed that their plates had practically been licked clean. She asked if they were finished with their plates, and they both nodded.

As she collected their dishes she asked, “Can I interest you two in some dessert?”

(y/n) pursed her lips and turned to Credence. “What do you think? Still have room for more, pretty boy?”

Credence flushed.  “I-I’ve never had a milkshake before,” he stammered, referring to the claim she made earlier.

She smiled, before gingerly holding up a finger to the waitress. “We’ll have one large vanilla milkshake with extra cherries, please!”

The waitress returned her smile and winked. “Coming right up!”

It wasn’t long before she came back with the milkshake. It came in a large glass cup filled with vanilla milkshake and topped off with a generous swirl of whipped cream. It was decorated with a cherry, but the extra cherries (y/n) asked for layered the bottom of the glass. The waitress placed the glass on the center of the table between the two. She handed them two big, red and white striped straws before leaving them once more. They both took one and put it into the glass.

(y/n) smiled eagerly at Credence across the table. “You get the first sip,” she said.

He thanked her as he leaned forward and wrapped his lips around his straw. He sucked on it how he normally would without realizing how thick the milkshake was. (y/n) watched him struggle for a moment as he nearly ran out of breath trying to suck the ice cream up the straw. He got it eventually, the cool, sweet, vanilla filling his mouth. It wasn’t what he was expecting at all. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, really, but he just knew that the taste surprised him. He never had sweets before. Sugar is a gluttonous indulgence that Mary Lou found sinful. But as the sticky sweet cream slid down his throat, he wondered if all sin was just pleasures he was being denied.

He didn’t have to tell her he liked it. It was written all over his face. It was probably the most relaxed she’s ever seen him. She enjoyed seeing him that way, with a small smile on his face and flushed cheeks. Credence was so invested in the milkshake, (y/n) was sure he would drink it all if she didn’t get her sips in. Credence nearly choked when he looked up and saw her face mere inches from his own, sipping on the other straw in the glass.

She didn’t seem to mind at all, being so close to him. Her eyes were closed as she sipped. Her curled lashes brushed against her full cheeks and her glossy lips circled the straw delicately. This close, he could see the texture of her (s/c) skin, seeing the few freckles and moles that decorated her features he hadn’t noticed before.

When she did open her eyes, he didn't look away. This time he looked in her eyes and saw for the first time that her eyes weren’t just one shade of (e/c), but a combination of different shades and colors to make the color that was distinctly her’s. Similarly, she saw that his eyes were a deep brown, almost black if it weren't for the few streaks of chocolate brown and burgundy that reflected in the light.

(y/n)’s lips curled into a smile. She bashfully looked away from his eyes and into the glass. The two drank in comfortable silence, savoring both the milkshake and the tender moment. They drank the contents of the glass, leaving nothing but the leftover cream and cherries at the bottom. They wouldn’t go to waste. Cherries must have been (y/n)’s favorite because ate most of them. She did however offer one to Credence for him to try. She held the cherry by the stem and encouraged him to take a bite. He thought it was a bit embarrassing that she insisted on feeding it to him, but he took the cream covered fruit into his mouth and found it just as sweet—if not sweeter—than the milkshake itself.

She let him eat the remaining cherries himself. While he was eating, he watched (y/n) gather her things, putting on her coat before sliding out of the booth.

“I’m going to go pay while you finish,” she told him as she got up.

She walked over to the front counter where the waitress was counting money from the cash register. Credence watched as the two women talked. (y/n) smiled at the waitress and said something that made her laugh. She reached into her purse and pulled out several bills. She handed it to the waitress, who looked at the cash in her hands with wide eyes.

“For me?” He overheard the waitress ask. When (y/n) nodded, the young girl squealed in excitement and rushed from the counter to hug her. The two stumbled due to the unexpected force, but (y/n) didn’t seem to mind. She laughed and hugged the waitress back, patting her back in a friendly manner. Credence, having finished his cherries, got up to stand by (y/n)’s side.

“Thank you so much, miss!” Credence heard the waitress gush as he came up.

“It’s nothing, you deserve it,” (y/n) insisted. (y/n) turned her attention from the young girl to Credence beside her when she felt his presence. She looked up at him with a smile. “Are you ready to go?” She asked him. He nodded.

The waitress looked between the two and grinned softly. “You two make a sweet couple,” she said.

(y/n) returned the grin, hooking her arm around Credence and leaning her head on his shoulder. “Thank you,” she said, playing into the waitress’s assumptions.

“You two have a blessed day!” The waitress left to tend to a waiting customer leaving him victim to (y/n)’s smug grin. At this point, even his neck was red. (y/n) couldn’t help but find  it amusing. No matter how flustered he got, he wouldn’t protest.

She lightly squeezed his arm, making him look down at her. “Are you ready to go, pretty boy?” She asked him.

It was the second time she called him that, and it was just as startling as the first time. The pet name made his heart swell in his chest and his brain stutter. But again, he didn’t protest. He just nodded his head and turned his face away to hide his reddened cheeks. (y/n) giggled, satisfied with the reaction she got, and they both walked out of the restaurant and back into the cold.

Outside, the snow had stopped falling, but the sidewalks were still slick with slush and ice. (y/n) took a deep breath, breathing in the crisp air as she looked up at the sky.

“Is it that late all ready?” She muttered to herself, her happy features falling slightly. Despite the heavy, grey clouds blanketing the sky, they could still see the sun shining brightly behind them. Credence too looked up at the sky. From what he could tell, it was around three in the afternoon..

He turned to (y/n). “Do you have to go now?” He asked her regrettably.

Her eyes fell down from the sky to his own. Her lips pressed into a small smile and shook her head. “Not just yet,” she said.

“Why don’t you walk with me to the park.” She demanded more than asked and pulled him off down the sidewalk.

He walked with (y/n) a little while longer, back towards the park. Along the way, (y/n) would stop outside shops and look at the items displayed in the windows. Some things of the things she expressed an interest in were for her, sometimes she would see an item and would say something along the lines of “Mom would love this” or “Aaron has something like this”. But sometimes she would stop and turn to Credence and ask, “Do you like this?”

He had to talk her out of buying him things multiple times. She seemed so eager to spoil him. She wanted to buy him a new pair of shoes and a watch she’d seen on display. There was an expensive-looking suit outside of a tailor’s shop, and her eyes practically sparkled upon seeing it. She tried to convince him to go in and try it on, but he knew if he did, she would end up buying it for him. How he deterred her from the idea was a miracle in itself. But eventually, she dropped the idea, and the two continued on their walk. 

The two reached the park without buying a single thing. When they reached the entrance of the park, (y/n) stopped, and pulled away from his side. Credence halted in his tracks, turning around to face her. He looked down at her as she smiled up at him.

“Do you have anywhere to go after this?” She asked him.

Credence shook his head. His mother wouldn’t be expecting him until dark.

She pursed her lips and tilted her as if in thought as she sighed.

“Should I just kidnap you?”

The question took him by surprise. (y/n) laughed at the perturbed look on his face. “I’m joking, Credence,” she said between snorts. “I won’t kidnap you. Not unless you want me to.”

Credence smiled softly, letting out a soft chuckle of his own. This made (y/n) smile even bigger than before. She took a coy step closer to him, taking one of his gloved hands in her own and swinging it playfully.

“I had fun today, Credence,” she told him. “As first dates go, this is probably the best one I’ve ever been on.”

“Just probably?” Credence mumbled jokingly.

(y/n) smirked, amused by the sudden remark. “Yeah, just probably.”

Credence looked down at their hands, admiring how small her hands were compared to his. Somehow he hadn’t realized just how much shorter than him she was. He always felt smaller than her. He didn’t mind it: feeling small. It was different from how other people made him feel small; like his mother or strangers on the street. They made him feel tiny, like a bug— like something disgusting and inconvenient. To them, he was something they could easily step on. But with her, it was different.

With her, he felt small, like a flower. And to him, she was the sun. She was so big and so bright. Whenever she was around, he felt alive. And whenever she wasn’t, he felt like he might die. He didn’t mind feeling small around her, because, at least when he’s with her, he is consumed by light. 

“I had fun too,” Credence spoke up. “I really enjoy spending time with you, Miss (l/n).”

“Are you always this formal?” She teases despite her obvious blushing. “I enjoy spending time with you too, Mister Barebone.”

She gave his hand one last gentle squeeze before letting go. She brushed past him, striding down the street. Credence watched her as she walked, his heart sinking just a little.

As though she could sense it, (y/n) looked at him over her shoulder as she walked and grinned. “Don’t look so sad,” she yelled to him. “I’ll find you again.”

With a chaste wink, she disappeared around the corner and away from his line of vision, leaving him with a full stomach and an even fuller heart.

That night, Credence returned home alone. He reluctantly walked back to the crooked chapel. His mind was fogged with thoughts of her. When he came to the front of what he, unfortunately, called ‘home’, he hesitated to go in. He looked through each window. It was dark inside. Could everyone have fallen asleep already?

He looked down at the coat on his body. He quickly shrugged the heavy material off of his shoulders and folded it in his arms before quietly entering the house. The house seemed empty, and it was almost too quiet. He pushed his way through the dark and carefully made his way up the stairs as to not make a sound. He’d gotten good at being quiet in the house. He memorized each squeaky board and mastered the art of moving in silence despite his height. 

He crept up the stairs as he’d done many times and tip-toed to his bedroom, where he then quietly shut his door. Once he heard the door click softly, he released his breath and sighed in relief.

His room wasn’t much. It was small and comprised a bed with an old iron frame, an armoire, a sink, and a metal tub that he uses to bathe. He looked down at the coat in his hands. He moved to the armoire by his bed and opened its doors. There wasn’t much inside; he had little to put in it, anyway. But today, he would be thankful for that. 

The armoire was a rather fancy piece of furniture. It stood out in his otherwise destitute room. The armoire was just as old and worn out as the rest of the room, but it wasn’t hard to tell it was an ornamental relic of the 19th century. It had enough space to fill two weeks’ worth of clothes. It was almost offensive how little there was inside it. One detail about it was its hollow bottom. Credence could slide the bottom plank of wood to reveal a cubbyhole. Its original purpose must have been for shoes or winter blankets, but now it would serve a new purpose. 

Credence kneeled on the ground and packed the coat neatly into the cubby before throwing his new gloves on top. They fit perfectly inside and he was allowed to slide the wooden plank back on with ease. With that accomplished, he rose to his feet and closed the armoire doors. He began undressing, stripping his clothes until he was left in nothing but his boxers.

It was as cold in the house as it was outside, but credence had no pajamas that would keep him warm. He had but one pair of old satin pajamas that were too small for him. He decided not to wear them tonight. The naturally cool material wouldn’t provide him warmth or comfort.

After putting away his dirtied clothes, Credence fell back on his bed and stared up at the rotting ceiling above him. As he lay there, his mind would drift to the memories of his ‘date’. Just thinking about her made his heart beat faster. He pictured her in his mind, reliving the time he spent with her.

It was the most surreal thing. Being with her made him feel things he never felt before. She made his heart flutter and his cheeks warm in a pleasantly addicting way. When he was with her, he forgot everything bad. There was no anxiety, no judgment, no harsh words, or abuse. He was just a normal man with a normal woman. He wished he could feel that way all the time.

His hand reached behind his head and slipped under his pillow to retrieve the soft pink piece of fabric he kept there. He held it up in front of him, rubbing it between his fingers. The moonlight from his window reflected on its threads, and he could read the stitched initials in the corner.

“(y/n)...” He whispered her name so tenderly. Just saying her name aloud made his lips tingle. He loved saying her name for the simple reason that it was her name. He would say it a thousand times aloud if he could.

He brought the cloth down to his nose and inhaled its scent. Her fragrance still lingered on the soft fabric, clouding his senses. Credence felt a familiar stirring rise in his stomach. Heat rose to his cheeks, and he pressed his legs together. His mind flashed to the other day in the church, remembering the lewd images of her he had fantasized about. A part of him was ashamed. Sexual desire was a sin he shouldn’t act upon. It was a vile, disgusting act. That’s what the church told him, at least. And his mother would have no part of it either.

Mary Lou made sure to reprimand him whenever she suspected him of sexual temptation, so much so he shied away from girls all together. Yet recently, he’s felt a bumbling desire well up inside of him. He knew what it was; he felt it before. Only once before had he fallen victim to his lusty desire. It had been in his adolescence. He was sleeping when he had a dream about a red-haired woman he’d seen on the street. She was most likely in her twenties at the time, but she was so captivating he remembered her face for a week. He dreamed of that red-haired woman touching and caressing him. She’d even kissed him like he’d seen couples on the street kiss. This mild fantasy woke him from his sleep with a shameful mess on his bed.

He was so humiliated and ashamed he rushed to confess to Mary Lou, who punished him greatly for his lasciviousness. He didn’t dream of the red-haired woman or any woman at all after that. That is, until he met her.

At first, his thoughts of her were innocent. He would fantasize about holding her hand and laying on her chest as he slept. She would caress his face and run her fingers through his hair.  He would give her chaste kisses on her cheek, and she would giggle and laugh, returning the favor. But that changed that day he went to church and listened to Father Blackwell’s sermon. That was the first time he thought of her in such an erotic way.

It was because of this he felt particularly suffocated by her presence today. He became even more aware of her touches. His eyes would stare at her lips more often and glance at the curves of her chest. He thought about how she held on to his arm; How warm and soft she was; Her small hands. He thought about how her finger felt brushing against his lip. About how her tongue darted between her plump lips to lap at her thumb.

Credence bit his lip to keep his whimpers from escaping. His thoughts were filled with images of her, his body reacted on its own. He curled on his side and pressed his legs together to relieve himself of his growing hardness. Instead of discouraging his growing lust, it seemed to only spur it on. The feeling of his thighs pressing against his length brushed an itch he desperately desired to scratch.

He wanted her by his side so terribly. If only he were as confident and manly as the men he saw on the street, she would be. If he were as confident as the man she was with today, then he could call her by her name. He too could take her by her delicate waist and kiss her cheeks. And, oh, did he wish to kiss her.

He wanted to kiss her many times today. He wanted to kiss her the moment he saw her. He wanted to kiss her again in the boutique when she pressed her hands on his chest, and again when she asked him to go on a date with her. He wanted to kiss her multiple times in the restaurant for teasing him so viciously, and he wanted to kiss her deeply before they said goodbye.

He imagined what it would be like to be that kind of man; what it would be like to have her with him now, and what he would do if she was. If she was there on his bed laying next to him, he would want to kiss her now as well. He would have her under him, staring up at him with her beautiful (e/c) eyes. He would brush the hair away from her face and stroke her cheek. Her hands would hold his sides and pull him closer so their bodies lay flat against each other. He would feel her and she would feel him. Her warmth would consume him, and their bodies would mold together.

Credence closed his eyes and smelled her pink handkerchief. If he kept his eyes closed, he could pretend she was there.

“(y/n)...” He whispered her name once more. His hips rocked hesitantly, the undeniable bulge in his boxers was now too evident to ignore. Rocking his hips caused a pleasurable sensation in his stomach. It felt so good, he did it again... and again... and again; rocking his hips as he held her handkerchief to his nose and imagined her.

He thought of kissing her soft lips as he pressed into her, feeling her hands run up and down his sides as they had done before. He wanted to rock his hips against her like he was doing now. Would it feel as good for her as it felt for him? Would she breathe as heavy as he was now? Would she pant and whisper his name?

“A-ah...”

He panted lewdly, pleasuring himself with these thoughts. But it wasn't enough. He needed more.

He laid on his back on the bed. His body seemed to know what to do without thinking about it. He kept his eyes closed as his free hand snaked down his body to palm himself over his boxers. He rubbed himself through the fabric, his shallow breaths filling his ears. But to him it wasn't his hands, but hers; her soft, small hands touching him gently.

It was her delicate hands that slipped past the waistband of his boxers and gripped his length. It was her hands that stroked him slowly. She was there, whispering his name while he whispered hers. The more she stroked him, the shorter his breaths became. Each breath he took was filled with her scent. She consumed him, wrapping her essence around him, and filling his body with heat.

She stroked him faster as they kissed. He kissed her deeply, slipping his tongue past her lips as he’d seen couples do before. He could taste the cherries and vanilla on her tongue, as sweet as they were in the milkshake they’d shared. She moaned his name in her mouth, driving him crazy.

“Ha..-ahh. ahaa...”

More, he thought. All he could think about was how he wanted more. More of her scent, more of her touch, more of her.

Her hands became wet with his slick, gliding up and down his length with vigor. His body was overtaken with a foreign sensation, buzzing through his body, collecting where he wanted to be touched the most. The faster she stroked him, the better he felt. She felt good, so so good.

“H-Ha...-haaaa...(y/n)...”

He wanted to say her name over and over. He wanted to shout it, loud enough for the heavens to hear. He didn’t care if God heard him. He wanted God and the angels to hear so they would know how she made him feel. He was overwhelmed by love and lust for her. He wanted them to know that his body was hers and he willingly gave it to her. He wanted to touch her, please her, feel her.

His eyes clenched shut. Her hands pumped his twitching length excitedly, the buzzing heat collecting at his center. His legs began to shake, his back arching from the bed. Lavender and vanilla, that’s what he smelled as his vision blurred and the buzzing heat tingling in his core burst and was replaced with a cool wave of overwhelming pleasure.

His body trembled, somehow coated in a thin layer of sweat despite the room being cold. He stayed still, laying in silence as he let his body calm. When he finally opened his eyes, he half expected to see her hovering over him with that playful smile on her face, only to be met with the rotting rafters of his ceiling.

He sighed through his nose. Once the euphoric cloud in his mind cleared, shame and regret replacing his lusty desire, he moved from his bed to the sink across the room. He turned the knob and a low stream of water fell from the faucet. Taking the dingy rag that rested on the sink’s bowl, he wet it, using it to clean up his mess. As he wiped himself, he wondered if that was what sex was like. He never touched himself like that before, though he wanted to many times. Now that he had, the answer to his question was clear. Sins were just pleasures he was being denied. 

He returned to his bed, burying himself beneath the covers. He took the handkerchief back into his hand and held it by his face as he slept on his side. His eyes grew heavy, the scent of lavender slowly drifting him to sleep. A passing thought in his mind wondered if this is what it would feel like to sleep by her side. He would do anything to just hold her once, to lie on her chest and listen to the sounds of her breathing.

That was his last thought before falling asleep.

Several days would pass since the last time he saw her. They would be long, dreary days spent in the chapel. It snowed relentlessly for three days, making it impossible to venture out. During that time, he would clean and help Chastity serve meals to the orphans that sought refuge from the streets. The day when the snow finally ceased to fall, Mary Lou tasked him with shoveling the street in front of the chapel while she took Modesty and Chastity into town.

It was once he finished shoveling that he realized he had the rest of the day for himself. He pondered staying in the house for a moment, but quickly threw the idea. He couldn’t bear another minute in that house. Instead, he went on a walk. It wasn’t unusual for him to do this when he had the time. He would walk aimlessly just to get away. He only could afford to when his mother left him alone.

Today, Credence found himself at Central Park. It was no surprise that the park was packed. The low temperatures of the past week allowed the lake to freeze over, thick enough for people to skate on. Men, women, and children scattered across the area. Carolers were singing Christmas songs and street vendors peddled treats. It was a pleasant and lively scene.

He had almost forgotten that Christmas was so soon. He’d been so caught up with his duties it had slipped his mind. He liked Christmas, even though he didn’t celebrate it the way most people do. His mother forced him and his siblings to attend church on Christmas Day. But he could appreciate what others did on Christmas. He liked seeing the kids play in the snow, showing off their new toys. He liked the idea of parents spending time with their children by the fire. He even liked listening to Christmas songs that would play on repeat outside the record store.

Credence watched the people as he walked through the park. He liked to imagine himself in their place. Sometimes he was a kid playing fetch with his dog. Sometimes he was a woman making snow angels, or a man building a snowman. Right now, he was the man of a couple skating on the ice, holding hands with his partner. The pair laughed as they spun in circles, occasionally grasping at each other’s arms when they slipped.

He was too busy projecting he hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings. Like any other creature, he was susceptible to attack. He flinched as he felt icy-cold pellets burst against the back of his head. He heard a sharp gasp not far behind him, followed by a heap of childish giggles. Credence turned around, expecting to see a group of devious looking children. Imagine his surprise when he saw her standing ten feet away from him with a group of children looking incredibly guilty.

“Oh, my gosh! I’m so sorry, Bunny! I was aiming for your shoulder, I swear!”

“(y/n)?” He muttered in disbelief.

How did she always appear in the least expected places? He stared her down as she rushed towards him. Today she was wearing a heavy, brown fur-lined coat and a green cloche hat that matched her boots. When she reached him, her hands immediately reached behind his head to dust the remaining remnants of her snowball from his hair.

She looked at him apologetically. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, I feel like a total gink,” she pouted.

His cheeks burst into flames. The position she put him in had her chest brushing pressing against his as her hands brushed through his hair. At this angle he could see how neatly curled her hair was under her cap, falling in styled swirls around her face. Her swollen nose was red from the cold. Her breath that smelled distinctly of coffee beans warmed his cheeks.

Credence’s expression softened, a faint smile ghosting his lips. She was still apologizing to him, frantically brushing snow from his hair and shoulders.

“It’s okay,” he said in hopes to calm her. 

She closed her eyes and sighed. Her head lulled forward, hiding her face in his chest. “You’re angry with me, aren’t you?” He heard her muffled voice say.

Credence swallowed the lump in his throat and nervously licked his lips. This was the closest she’d ever been to him. He reached a dithering hand to grasp hers and rubbed the back of her gloved hand with his thumb.

“I’m not angry,” he assured her.

(y/n) lifted her head from his shoulders to meet his eyes, searching for any sign of irritation. “Are you sure? You can get me back, if you want.”

Credence nodded his head. “I’m sure.”

She believed him this time, her relief washing over her face. “I really am sorry,” she said one final time. “I just saw you walking past by chance and I wanted to surprise you.”

“I was surprised!” He said a bit too excitedly.

This made her laugh and playfully push his shoulder. Her laugh alone was enough to put a smile on his face, one that made dimples appear on his cheeks. He felt her hand firmly grasp his, holding it properly.

“Why aren’t you wearing your new coat and gloves?” She asked. “Don’t you like them?”

Credence had forgotten he wasn’t wearing the coat you got him. He couldn’t, not without his mother seeing it. If she knew about the coat—if she knew about him seeing you—she would be furious. He kept the coat (y/n) had given him hidden with the rest of the precious things she gave him. He wore the old navy blue coat out that Mary Lou had recently acquired and given to him. It wasn’t nearly as warm or stylish as the coat (y/n)  had gotten for him, but it was enough for the winter, and it was the only thing he could wear in front of his mother.

“I do like them,” he answered. “I was afraid of ruining it. I don’t want to wear it out too much.”

It was the best excuse he could think of at the time, and after mulling over it for a brief moment, she seemed to accept it. She then told him that, if he did end up damaging his new coat, she would simply buy him another, and spoke no more of it.

She nodded towards the lake behind him. “Did you come here to skate?”

Credence looked back to the lake. “Oh, no,” he said. “I never learned.”

Another gasp left her lips. “You’ve never been ice-skating before?”

He shook his head.

“Then we’ve got to fix that, now don’t we?” She reckoned.

Before he could ask what she meant, she’d already left his side. He looked in all directions until he saw her talking to an older couple sitting on a mess of picnic blankets under a tree. It appeared she’d asked him a question because their answer was a shake of their head. She waved goodbye to them before walking off to pursue another person, who gave the same answer. He watched her do this a few times around a small area of the park with no luck. At one point, she stood in the middle of the snow pondering while she scanned the area. Curious, Credence walked up to her.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Looking,” she replied simply.

Her squinted eyes panned across the park, her lips pursed as though she were thinking very hard about something.

“Ah!” She shouted, a triumphant smile stretching across her lips. She turned to Credence and winked. “Follow my lead.”

She walked down a small hill towards a small group of children who were playing in the snow at the bottom. Credence followed a few steps behind.

“Hey, kiddos,” She waved.

The kids stopped what they were doing to look up at her. She waved her hands towards her, beckoning them over. The children shared confused looks, before cautiously making their way towards her. She squatted down Asian style to meet their eyes. Credence stayed a couple of feet away, but he could still make out what was being said.

“Can you keep a secret?” He heard (y/n) ask the children.

The kids nodded and hummed in confirmation. (y/n) grinned.

“You see my friend over there?” She pointed behind her, directing the children’s attention to Credence. “He’s never been ice-skating before!”

The children snickered whispered teasingly among themselves. Credence looked away, embarrassed to be taunted by children. (y/n) giggled with them and easily brought back their attention.

“I really want to teach him,” She revealed once their jeering ceased. “But he’s so silly, he forgot to bring a pair of skates.”

“That is silly!” One of the little girls yelled.

(y/n) looked between Credence and the children. “Now, I see you have a pair of skates.” Sure enough, there were a pair of skates laying in the snow where the kids were once playing, far too big to fit on their small feet.

“Do they belong to any of you?” (y/n) asked.

“No,” The little girl shook her head. “They were already there.”

“We think someone left them by mistake,” An older boy chimed in.

“I see,” (y/n) hummed. “Do you think I can take them for my friend, then?”

“But we was gonna use ‘em! We saw them first!” A small blond boy frowned. (y/n) looked at the boy and flashed her kindest smile.

“Oh, were you now? How about I just borrow them? I’ll bring them right back to you, I pinky promise!” She held out her pinky for him to take. The boy looked at her hand in front of him. He lifted his hand and stretched out his pinky.

“I guess that’s okay...” He mumbled through puffed red cheeks.

(y/n) hooked hers around the boy. “Aren’t you sweet?” She affectionately pat the top of his head. “I hope my kid will be as kind as you are.”

The boy blushed and swat her hand away from his head, adjusting his hat. “Whatever, Lady!” The blond boy ran away, the rest of the children chased after him with childish taunts.

(y/n) chuckled and rose back to her feet. She walked up to where the skates were laying and picked them off the ground before making her way back to Credence’s side.

“Are you ready?” She asked excitedly.

Credence shrugged his shoulders, still processing the events of the last fifteen minutes. (y/n) scoffed and rolled her eyes, forcibly taking Credence’s hand.

“Just come on,” she groaned as she dragged him towards the lake.

When they reached the edge of the ice, she handed him the skates and ordered him to strap them onto his boots. Credence did as he was told and sat down on the nearest bench, securely strapping the skates onto his shoes. After (y/n) had double-checked to make sure they were on right, she held out her hand for him to take. He grabbed it, using her to find his balance. When he stood to his feet his ankles wobbled, disrupting his balance.

(y/n) gripped his arm tightly to keep him from falling. “Careful,” she warned.

He held on to her as she guided him to the lake. She stepped on the ice with ease. She grabbed his other hand and helped him step on the ice. Immediately after his skates touched the ice, his heart raced.

“I don’t think I want to do this anymore,” his voice fluttered anxiously.

“You’re okay, I got you,” she promised.

She pulled him further out onto the ice, still clasping his hands. Credence gripped her hands for dear life while silently trying to figure out how it was he ended up in this position.

Other skaters flew past them as he stumbled on the ice like a baby deer. (y/n) didn’t give up on teaching him. No matter how many times he slipped or tripped, she was always there to catch and pick him back up when he fell. Eventually, he got the hang of it. He started balancing himself on his own, gliding somewhat smoothly without having to hold on to her. It didn’t take long for him to relax and reciprocate her playful activities.

(y/n) eventually stepped off the ice, giving him the space to skate on his own. She watched him fondly, taking in the smile glowing on his face. He went around in circles, almost bumping into others a few times, but he directed himself easily. She would say he was a natural.

He went on like that for a while as she watched. When he’d had enough, he made his way back to the edge of the lake where she stood.

“Was that fun?” She asked when he skated towards her. Credence nodded his head and smiled bashfully. She helped him stop by taking his outstretched hands. 

“You’re a fast learner. I’m kind of jealous. I didn’t get the hang of skating until I was twelve,” she brooded jokingly. “Are you done?”

“Yes,” he said as he stepped back on the snow. 

They walked towards the bench, and Credence sat down to take off his skates. (y/n) stayed standing. “There’s a vendor selling treats across the street,” she told him. “Why don’t you give those skates back to the kids while I get us something to drink?”

“But––” Credence tried to protest, not having the courage or social skills to approach a group of children. It was quickly ignored, however, for (y/n) had already made up her mind, and began walking to the street. 

“I’ll be right back!” She said as she left him alone on the bench. 

Credence looked around, silently doubting his ability to find the kids. His eyes scanned the park until they landed on a group of children having a snowball fight. He recognized one of the children as the bratty boy (y/n) convinced to let them borrow the skates. 

He reluctantly got up from the bench and walked over to the children, skates in hand. The closer he got, the louder their shouting laughter became. Most of the children were boys between the ages of seven and thirteen, but three girls around their age had gained their friendship. One girl stayed off to the sidelines watching the others play. He recognized her as well.

“Excuse me... little girl?” He called. The little girl turned around and held out the skates. “Here.”

The girl took them and smiled. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.”

She looked behind him, frowning when she saw nothing there. “Where’s that nice lady?”

Credence pointed across the street towards the street vendor where (y/n) was patiently waiting in line. “She should be back,” he told her.

“I like her!” said the girl. “She’s very pretty, like a princess!”

This made him smile. It made him happy to know others, even children, saw her the way he did. “Yeah,” he agreed. “She is.”

The little girl looked at Credence, noting the soft smile on his face as he watched you. “Do you like her or something?” She probed unexpectedly. 

“Uh... I...?” Credence struggled to find the words to say. It's not that he didn't know the answer, it was just that he hadn’t expected to be asked that question. Especially not from an eight-year-old girl. Were his feelings that transparent? Did you know how he felt too?

The little girl didn’t wait for an answer. “Well, I think she likes you,” she told him, surprising him for the second time.

Credence flushed pink. “Really?”

The small girl reached her hand to pat Credence's arm and imitated the look of someone wise beyond her years. “Trust me. Women know these things.”

Oddly, he couldn’t help but feel a bit hopeful despite the words coming from a child. He never felt about anyone the way he felt about her. The way he is when he’s with her—the way he talks to her and touches her—he can only be that way with her because he likes her. He could never be that way with anyone else. But he always felt that, for her, it was different. Seeing her interact with others like the children, the waitress, Raül—even Edmund—made him realize that she was kind to everyone. She didn’t treat him that way because she liked him. She treated him that way because that’s just the kind of person she was.

“Hey, kiddos!” (y/n)’s voice caught his attention. Both Credence and the girl looked up to see her holding a cardboard box of steaming paper cups. “I got something for you!”

The children playing heard her too and ceased their fight to run towards her. They circled her like a litter of puppies, excitedly asking what she was holding.

She lowered the box for them to see, showing off cups filled with light brown liquid. “For letting us borrow the skates. Be careful though, it's hot!”

The kids yelled enthusiastically as she began handing them each a cup. Credence walked to her side to help her.

“What is it?” He asked.

(y/n) frowned. “Hot chocolate. Have you never had hot chocolate before?”

He shook his head, causing her to gasp.

“I wish I had known sooner!” She pouted. “I got this is from a vendor across the street. I could have gotten better hot chocolate with marshmallows at a cafe a block from here.”

“I think it’s delicious!” The little girl interjected. 

(y/n) smiled down at her. “Well, if you think so, then it must be.”

Credence ended up being the one to give the bratty boy his cup of hot chocolate. (y/n) watched him as he drank it greedily. 

“What about you?” She asked him. “Do you like it too?”

“It’s pretty good, I guess,” he said, trying his hardest to sound indifferent, but it was hard to take him seriously with the chocolate mustache on his lips.

(y/n) laughed and took his cheek between her fingers, pinching them gently. “Gosh, you’re so darn cute! Do you have a big sister already? I can be yours, if you want. I’ve always wanted a little brother!”

The boy blushed and pulled his face away from her hand. “Lady, you’re crazy!”

He threw his empty cup on the ground stormed off angrily. The other children finished their cups and handed them back to her nicely before running off too, leaving her and Credence alone. 

“What did I say?” She mumbled to herself.

Credence couldn’t help but find it amusing. It was nice seeing her tease someone else for a change. 

“Maybe he already has a sister,” he answered sarcastically.  

(y/n) scoffed. “Yeah, yeah, just drink your cocoa,” she chuckled after handing him a cup. 

The two threw away the empty cups and cardboard box in a nearby trashcan. (y/n) suggested they take a walk around the park and talk. She asked him if he liked the hot chocolate, to which he answered yes. She then asked which he liked better: vanilla milkshakes or hot chocolate. He told her milkshakes. They talked like this for a while. Occasionally she would ask about his family and what he liked to do at home. He didn’t give her many satisfying answers, but that didn’t stop her from prodding.

“So, did you give up on hunting witches?” She asked.

Credence swallowed another sip of his hot chocolate. “I’m sorry?”

“You don’t carry around flyers anymore. Did you give up?”

“Oh. No, it’s not that,” he said. “I don’t think my mother will ever give up on exposing witches. It’s just that right now she’s kind of stuck.”

“Stuck? Stuck how?”

“She wanted to speak at the church to let everyone know about what she’d seen, but the priest, Father Blackwell, wouldn’t allow it.”

“I know Father Blackwell,” she told him.

Credence perked up. “You do?”

“Yes! My father is a big supporter of the church. Personally, I identify as agnostic, so I don’t go to church with him unless it’s for a holiday like Easter or Christmas. I wonder if you’ve seen him. Not that you could miss him. He’s a rather large man,” she joked.

“Does he wear a white suit?” Credence asked, remembering the stocky man talking with Father Blackwell the last time he visited the church.

(y/n) grinned and nodded excitedly. “That’s his Sunday suit! He has four of them. For some reason, he only likes wearing cream-colored suits on Sundays.”

“I have seen him,” he admits.

“Small world!” She exclaimed. “Well, anyways, I can definitely tell my father to put in a good word for your mother to Father Blackwell.”

“You would do that?”

“Of course! Better yet, why don’t we go right now?”

“N-Now?” Credence gaped.

“It’s Wednesday, they have a service tonight. Father Blackwell will be there, and I can try to convince him to let your mother have a set this Sunday!

“But what about your father?”

“We might not need him. I know Father Blackwell well enough. He might be swayed on my word alone. It won’t hurt to try,” she explained.

“I guess not,” he agreed.

“Come with me, my car is just a short walk from here!” She grabbed his free hand and directed him towards the street where she’d parked her car. 

After they reached the car, she drove him to the church. It was a short fifteen-minute drive from Central Park. It was still too early for the service to start, but when they entered the church, a few people were sitting in the pews praying. An older woman was playing the organ at the altar while Deacon Ripley read scriptures from the Bible. He stopped only stopped when he noticed the two walking down the aisle. 

“Oh, God,” Credence heard (y/n) mutter under her breath. “Not this clown again.”

He wasn’t used to you outwardly showing your distaste for someone; you were always so nice. But considering it was Deacon Ripley, it wasn’t too surprising. 

He was a cunt.

As they came closer, Ripley marked the passage he’d finished reading and closed the Bible. 

“Miss (l/n),” he called her name with a sneer. “What a pleasant surprise. What brings you here?”

“I’m here to speak with Father Blackwell,” she replied coldly. It was the first time Credence had ever heard her use such a tone. 

Ripley frowned, taking a step down from the podium. “What business could you have with him?”

(y/n)’s lips curled into a sly smirk. “My business with him would be his business and mine, so why would I tell you our business if it isn’t your business to begin with?”

Her witty remark clearly got under Ripley’s skin. His frown deepened and splotches of red began appearing under his grey skin. He didn’t get the chance to respond before Father Blackwell stopped him. 

“Give it a rest, Ripley.” Father Blackwell had come out from the door to his office. He moved between Ripley and (y/n), and held out his hand for her. “(y/n), it’s lovely to see you. It’s been a while. A year, I think?”

She took his hand and shook it. “Don’t be silly, Father. You saw me earlier this year, remember? For my parent’s Easter party.”

“Oh, that’s right,” he nodded, chuckling softly. “Must’ve slipped my mind. What brings your here, child?”

 “Ah, yes, about that...” (y/n) eyed Ripley. “Can we speak somewhere private, just the two of us?” 

“I don’t see why not. Step into my office.”

(y/n) turned to Credence and gave him a reassuring smile before following Father Blackwell to his office and disappearing behind the heavy door. Credence could feel Ripley’s eyes burning a hole in the side of his head. He obviously wanted to say something to him. 

“Seeing that godless woman walk through God’s doors was not something I expected to see today,” he began, excited to get his two cents in.  “But I must admit, seeing you by her side surprises me more. I didn’t realize you two were so close”

What was his problem? Why did he hate her so much? Then Credence remembered what she said to him in the park. Could that be why Ripley hated her? Because she didn’t believe in the church? No, it had to be something else. His pointed anger felt too personal.  

“We’re not really,” Credence answered. “I only just met her.”

“So you say.” Ripley circled him. “I wonder... Does your mother know about you and Miss (l/n)?”

If there’s one thing Credence hated about Ripley, it was his talent for stirring up trouble. His hobby of collecting and relaying gossip often caused spouts within the church. Credence fell victim to this twice before, each time resulting in a beating from his mother. He had to be careful with what he says to Ripley because he will most definitely relay it to his mother if he thinks it will cause conflict. 

“She does,” he lied as best he could. 

Ripley raised his brows. “Really? I never took her for the kind of woman who would allow her son to stroll the streets alone with such... unholy company. If there’s one kind of person Mary Lou hates, it’s women like her.”

Credence frowned. “What do you mean by ‘women like her’?”

“Don’t you know? Not only does she not accept the Christian God, but she fully denounced him. Instead of saving her divine feminine for holy matrimony, she committed salacious acts with various men that would make the Virgin Mary cry.”

Credence fell silent. So this was the reason. The malicious smirk on Ripley’s cracked lips proved that he couldn’t wait to tell him what he knew. 

“Oh my,” Ripley sighed. “I suppose you didn’t know.”

Credence clenched his fist. He could feel his body vibrating with heat. He was so angry. How dare he speak about her that way? How dare he disrespect her? Spread rumors about her? Was gossip not a sin?  Who was he to degrade and scrutinize her?

So what if she did? He didn’t care. It didn’t matter. It didn’t change what he thought about her. It didn’t change how he felt about her. But hearing such demeaning words come from Ripley's mouth made his blood boil. 

There were times where Credence would get like this. It wasn’t often, but when he did, his mind would think dark, violent thoughts. They build up in his head until anger and rage blinded him. He wanted to say something—do something. He probably would have too, if her voice hadn’t rung in his ears, immediately calming his nerves and the growing anger inside him. 

“Credence, I did it!” 

He saw you rushing excitedly towards him with a big smile on your face. You came up to him, grabbed both of his hands, shaking them wildly. 

“Tell your mother that she can speak this Sunday at the end of the service!”

Credence swallowed the lump in his throat. His tightened chest released the tension it was holding and his hands unclenched to hold hers. Looking into her shining (e/c) eyes made all his violent thoughts disappear as if they were never there. 

He blinked a few times, already forgetting how upset he’d just been. “H-How?”

“Magic,” she winked. 

She hooked her arm around his and began walking him back down the aisle to the exit. “Do you want me to drive you home?” She asked, looking up at him.

Credence smiled, Ripley’s taunting comments fleeing his memory. “Yes.”

The drive took longer than expected. There had been an accident on Manhattan Avenue that detoured them to Harlem. Credence didn’t mind it. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye just yet. Driving through Harlem was an experience in itself. He’d never been past the Upper East Side. Harlem was a lively neighborhood. People played music and danced in the streets despite the cold. Murals lined the walls, and there was a hopping joint around every corner. Credence looked out the window in silent awe, taking in everything he saw. 

“Have you never been here before?” (y/n) asked, noticing his astonishment. 

“No,” he told her truthfully. “It’s really nice.”

“You know, I used to live here,” she revealed.

That, he found hard to believe. His doubt must have been visible on his face because she laughed and shook her head. 

“What? You don’t believe me? It’s true, I swear! I wasn’t always like... Well, we didn’t always live in Kings Point.”

Having something to prove, Credence watched as she made a sudden turn, off course from where they were heading. The townhouses they passed were tall, skinny, and faintly worn down. The further they drove from the commercial streets, the quieter it became. They rounded about four blocks before turning into a barren street. Some houses were completely dark, while others had lights in their windows. The car slowed to a stop in front of one of the dark houses. It wasn’t terribly worn, but chipping blue paint covered the exterior and there were cracks in the brick fence that protected it. 

(y/n) parked the car and moved to get out. Credence did the same, opening the door and stepping onto the pavement. (y/n) came to his side and eyed the house. 

“This was my house,” she spoke after a while. “I lived here until I was nine.”

She walked up to the gate and pointed at the mailbox inside it. Faded letters that spelled her last name were imprinted on the stone from where a sign used to be. He tried to imagine her living it; it was almost comical. He only knew her to wear mink coats and designer clothes. He’d only pictured her living in a palace—somehow it felt fitting. Imagining her in such a small house and living an average life didn’t seem right. But perhaps that’s why she kept surprising him.

“No one lives here now. Sometimes I come back just to look around and remember as much about the place as I can.”

Credence walked to her side. “What do you remember?”

A smile fluttered on her lips. “I remember chasing my brothers around the house. We sat by the fire during the winter while my father read us stories and my mother knitted blankets and scarves. I learned how to ride a bike right on this street!” She looked down at the cracked pavement. “We were happier, I think.”

“Are you not happy now?”

(y/n) looked up at Credence and flushed. “I am! I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. It’s just...” She sighed. “Now that my father has his own architect firm, he’s been so busy I rarely see him anymore. My mother and I were never really close, and it’s pretty easy for us to avoid each other in such a big house. I don’t know... Sometimes I wonder if it was all worth it.”

“What about your brothers?” asked Credence. “You seem close.”

“We are,” she smiled. “We always had each other, and most of the time it was enough. Even when Aaron left to study at Oxford, Channing paid extra attention to me. Still, I want us all to be as close as we were.”

He could sympathize with that. Blood-related or not, Modesty and Chastity were his sisters. They’d been through a lot together, and that was enough for him. He didn’t know what it was like to lose a close relationship with a parent, having never had one in the first place—but he figured that’s what made it worse. 

“Anyway,” she elbowed him playfully. “D’you believe me now?”

Credence nodded. She chuckled softly, taking his hand and guiding him back to the car. They continued the rest of their drive uninterrupted. It was relatively quiet aside from the few comments she made along the way. By the time they reached Pike Street, it had started to snow again. It wasn’t heavy like the days before. The snowflakes fell slowly and softly, fluttering down gracefully on the window-shield. 

The care halted to a stop on the street corner. (y/n) turned to Credence, who was already looking at her. 

“Thank you,” he said. “For helping me.”

She smiled and looked down at her hands. “You don’t need to thank me,” she blushed. “I was happy to.”

“Still, I want to. Thank you, for everything.”

“You’re welcome.”

They regrettably said their goodbyes, something Credence hated doing because he was never sure when he’d see her again. He stepped out of the car and onto the icy street, turning to wave goodbye at her one last time before watching her drive off down and disappear behind the buildings once she rounded the corner. Credence turned on his heels and walked back to the snow-covered chapel. His feet dragged behind him to stall his arrival. He walked up the creaking steps to the door and opened it lackadaisically. 

He began stripping himself of his outerwear when he noticed another presence in the room. He looked to the stairs and found his mother, Mary Lou, sitting there. Her icy blue eyes bore into his skull. Credence got a sudden sinking feeling in his stomach, a vestigial remnant of primal instinct that signified impending danger. 

“Hello, Mother...” He said upon seeing her. She didn't respond. She only looked at him in a way that made him increasingly nervous. He shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say.

“I have some good news.” His mouth began moving before he could think. “Father Blackwell said he would let you speak this Sunday. It’s towards the end of service, and he is only giving us three minutes to speak, but that’s better than nothing, right?”

“Did your jezebel tell you that?” She spoke dangerously.

Credence’s body tensed. “What are you talking about, mother?” He asked, fearful he already knew the answer.

Mary Lou opened her hand to reveal the pink handkerchief. His stomach dropped as she threw the cloth down at his feet. Mary Lou rose from the stairs, her heels thumping loudly as she climbed down.

“I saw you at the cathedral, Credence. You and your little harlot,” she said as she walked towards him. “I was on my way to speak with Father Blackwell when I saw the two of you skip outside with her clinging to your arm.”

Credence kept his head down, staring at the handkerchief by his feet. Mary Lou circled him like a vulture ready to pick at a rotting carcass.

“I always knew your flesh was weak... but I didn’t know all it took was a pair of big (e/c) eyes to make you fall from grace.”

“Mother, I—” The sound of her heavy hand slapping across his face cut his sentence short, sending him to the ground. 

“Silence!” She ordered. Credence felt tears prickling behind his eyes. He stared at the handkerchief lying pathetically on the floor. Mary Lou’s pointed black shoe came into his view and stepped on the delicate silk. Mary Lou was never one to yell, that’s what made her anger so much more terrifying. She spoke barely above a whisper, in a sickeningly sweet and proper tone, the cruel words that left her thin lips.

“The worst part of it is: you tried to hide it from me. You knew what you were doing was a sin. You knew that God was watching, and you did it anyway.”

“Mother, it’s not what you think,” Credence said through his strained tears. “I didn’t touch her!”

“Don’t lie to me, Credence, I saw the way you looked at her!” Mary Lou seethed. “You think I wouldn’t notice you sneaking in late? That I wouldn’t smell the perfume on your clothes?”

Credence fell silent, realizing that denial was futile. It didn’t matter what he said. Mary Lou had already set her mind about his relationship with (y/n). He knew it was too good to be true. He had been happy for far too long. He should have expected it wouldn’t last. He always screwed everything up somehow. This was his own fault. He deserved this.

“You know what I have to do now, don’t you?” She whispered.

Credence did know. His heart thrashed in his chest, fear coursing through his veins. “Mother, please, don’t!” he begged feebly. “I won’t see her again, I promise!”

Mary Lou kneeled in front of Credence. Her hand reached up to lift his head. He forced himself to look her in the eyes, his vision blurred from his tears. They were unfeeling and as cold as the words that left her lips. 

“I know you won’t. We’ll make sure of that.”

More people die in winter than in any other season. That is a known fact. The blistering cold is more dangerous than the smoldering heat. During the winter, everything dies. The plants die, the animals die, even the sun dies just a little.

“Credence?”

There was nothing worse than winter, he thought. There was nothing worse than being left in the cold, wet, nodding in and out of consciousness—somewhere between life and death. Maybe he was being dramatic. He’d survived this at least twice before. He will be allowed back home, eventually. He would be given a hot bath and warm clothes. He would be wrapped in a blanket and laid on his bed. He would be forgiven.

But, in this moment, he had no warmth. The clothes on his back were damp, sticking to his skin like icy sheets. His already pale skin looked almost as white as the blanket of snow that covered the city, save for the faint blue tint of his lips.

“Credence.”

At first he’d thought walking would make him warmer. Maybe if he moved his muscles, his body would produce what little heat it could. Thinking back on it now, it was a pretty stupid idea. If anything, it made it worse. The wind had picked up, and the snow fell faster than it was earlier. How long had he been out here? It could have been twenty minutes or an hour, he couldn’t tell. Time moves slower when you’re miserable. What he did know was that he had walked about four blocks from the chapel. He thought he might find a place, a warm place where he could sit and rid himself of the cold.

He’d try a tea shop, a restaurant, and a bookstore before giving up. No one would let him in. They were all closed early for the holiday season. He then became increasingly aware how late in the afternoon it was, and how much colder it would be once the sun finally set. And he would still be here, cowering in a filthy alleyway that smelled heavily of rotting food and urine.

“Credence!”

How did she always mange to find him? Her large eyes bore into his own, wide and unyielding. She was close enough that her short breaths gave him the first gust of heat he’d felt since he was thrown out of the chapel. Unlike before, it didn’t smell of coffee beans, but of the hot chocolate they had shared just hours before. If the sweet scent hadn’t filled his nose, he would have sworn she was a hallucination. This was the last place he’d expect to see her. Yet, she always had a knack for turning up in places he’d least suspect. Regardless of what she always said, it felt a little more than coincidence—something just shy of fate.

“What are you doing out here? Where’s your coat?” Her hands flew to his shoulders, her own body reacting to the lack of warmth jolted and shivered.

It was her kind eyes he liked the most. Her eyes had the greatest warmth, the kind that filled your chest whenever you looked at them. He could stare into them forever and never get cold. Her eyes are what he’d miss the most.

“You’re soaking wet! You’ll freeze half to death out here! Come to my car, It’ll warm you up.” She reached for his hand, but he would not give it to her.

“Go away.”

This he could not say while looking in her eyes. It would only make it harder. There was an unpleasant pause, one that continued for a second too long. Her voice, he would miss the sound of her voice as well. He wanted to remember it as best he could, even if the last words she would say to him were full of resentment.

“What?”

He turned his back to her, hiding his tears. He had to do this. It was bound to happen anyway. What was the point in watering a dead plant? The fantasy should have long since ended. It shouldn’t have begun in the first place.

“I’m fine. Just go away,” his voice was barely above a whisper.

But he wasn’t fine, and he didn’t want her to leave. He wanted to follow her to the car, where she’d wrap him in the wool blanket she kept in the back seat, and she’d hold his hands to keep them warm.

She scoffed, her heels scuffing on the asphalt as she stepped back, exasperated. “Yeah, right, you’re one minute away from mummifying out here! Just get up and come with me!” She reached for him again, taking his hand. Her touch. He’ll miss her touch.

“No!” He jerked away from her gentle hands.

He didn’t need to see her face to know it hurt her. It hurt him just to say it. But he had to. He made a promise he had to keep. No matter how much it hurt. The next words to fall from his lips would be nothing but lies to mask the truth.

“I don’t need you.”

I do.

“I don’t need your help.”

Help me.

“I don’t want to see you anymore!”

Please don’t go.

Another pregnant silence. The lump in Credence’s throat was large enough to suffocate him. Every time he tried to swallow it down, it would grow bigger, prompting more tears to stain his cheeks.

“You don’t want to see me anymore?” She repeated. Her voice was as cold and steady as the snow that fell around them.

Everything dies in winter. The plants die, the animals die, even the sun dies just a little. The sound of her heels knocking on the asphalt faded along with her warmth. He’d call out to her if he wasn’t a coward. He would tell her the truth and beg for her forgiveness if he had the strength. But when he couldn’t smell lavenders or vanilla, or feel her unwavering warmth, he knew that it was too late. She was gone.

He fell to the ground, burying his head in his knees to muffle his pained cries. The icy ground didn’t phase him. He felt nothing but the ache in his chest and the swell of his throat. He wondered if that pain would ever go away. Could he continue on like this? With the feeling that a part of him had been taken?

He unclenched his fist, revealing frayed pink fabric; the stitched golden letters staring back at him mockingly. It was the only surviving piece of the handkerchief his mother burned. He’d picked it from the ashes before she threw him out on the streets. The smell of ash and smoke dulled the scent of lavender and vanilla it once carried. But, if he focused hard enough, he could still smell the traces of her perfume. For now, it will be enough.

He sat in the alleyway until the early night sky replaced the setting sun. He would sit and listen to the passing cars and pedestrians in silence, until he could no longer feel the fabric in his hands, or the sting of his aching muscles. His swollen eyes grew heavy, barely staying open longer than a second. He closed them, letting his body relax and fade slowly into nothingness.

Slipping in and out of consciousness, he stayed curled in the alleyway, unaware of his surroundings. Unaware that a car had parked outside the alley entrance. Ignorant to the footsteps that neared his meek form and the shadow that loomed over him. He was oblivious to it all until he felt a weight on his head and shoulders. He pried his eyes open to find himself wrapped in a thick wool blanket.

A dainty (s/c) hand opened for him, tempting him to take it; his saving grace.

“I’m not going to leave you like this. I couldn’t live with myself if I did.”

Her eyes weren’t angry. They weren’t cold or full of resentment. They were as kind and warm as they always had been, perhaps even more. Her rosy lips held a gentle smile just for him.

“You don’t have to see me again after tonight,” she concurred. “But I need you to get in the car. Please, Credence. Just one more night, then you’ll never have to see me again.”

Had it been anyone else, he would have refused. The hold his mother had on him was stronger than the yearnings of his heart. His fear of her would keep him from acting on his desires—what he truly wanted. It had been that way for as long as he could remember. But now, with her hand outstretched for him to take, there was no nagging fear pulling him away. No voice in the back of his head vilifying him from acting on his whims. Because, for the first time, someone had heard what he didn’t dare to say aloud. For the first time, someone cared. 

Had it been anyone one else, he wouldn’t have taken their hand. He wouldn’t have stood from the frozen ground or walked towards their car. Anyone else, and he wouldn’t have gotten inside and felt the heat melt his frozen muscles. If it was anyone but her, he would still be wasting away in the freezing, damp alleyway. 

“Just try to relax and get warm,” she told him as they drove off. He didn’t have the strength to speak. He was far too tired. She could see from the corner of her eye that he was falling asleep. His head rested on the window, his bloodshot eyes struggling to stay open. She took his hand that rested in his lap. It was cold to the touch, like ice, as if no blood coarsed through his veins. 

She refused to let go, instead she held it tighter. “Rest. I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

If he wasn’t already drifting to sleep, he would have asked where she was taking him, but his eyes refused to open, and his lips would not open to pose the question. Instead he let the motion and hum of the car lull him to sleep. 

New York City was known for many things: its gigantic skyscrapers, the lively scene, the people. But it was easy for tourists to see what the locals could not. New York City was by no means as glorious as its reputation would like you to believe. Everything great about it was reserved for people who could afford it. Shopping, clubbing, broadway, the cinema; it was all novelty. The grit of New York City was something the average New Yorker would like to escape. If the city was as great as it was made out to be, then why did the wealthy live upstate in their palatial mansions? It’s because beyond the smog and stench of the city was fresh air, and acres of woodlands and grasslands to admire. 

That’s all Credence could see when he opened his eyes from what felt like a year’s rest. From the passenger window he could make out the shadows of tall, snow covered maples and oak trees rushing past. The road was long and winding, twisting through the scenic route with ease. 

Beyond the trees, he could make out the orange lights of houses drawing near. It wasn’t long before the trees were replaced by vast mansions with plunging yards, overly decorated for the holiday season. The drowsy fog had barely lifted from his mind to take in such a foreign sight. As his mind awoke, so did the rest of his senses. He became aware of his body, and how it was no longer cold and wet. He could feel his blood circulating in his hands and feet, allowing them to move and wiggle as he pleased. His nose was no longer stuffed, and the numbness in his face had left. 

Taking a peak through the corner of his eye, he saw her; her eyes focused on the road. The light from the passing mansions cast shadows over her features. She was otherwise relaxed, if it weren't for the faint wrinkle of her forehead, the kind that appeared when she was deep in thought. He was too afraid to say anything. Even if he wasn't, he wouldn’t know what to say. Things had happened so suddenly, he couldn’t keep up.

Instead, he kept silent and watched the houses roll by as she drove. Trapped in his thoughts, he began to realize just where she was taking him. He didn’t know why she thought to bring him here, or what she planned to do, but he concluded she was taking him to her home. He’d never been to Kings Point before and he never imagined going within his lifetime, but he could say with confidence that it did not disappoint.

Kings Point was exactly how he imagined it, save for a few minor details. Under different circumstances he would be awestricken, but tonight he didn’t have the energy for it. All he had the energy to do was count the mansions they passed in his head. It was better than thinking of the events that lead him there.

He counted seventeen pompous manors before the car’s speed gradually reduced to a cruise. He watched as a large manor with swooping gable roofs and multiple chimneys came into view. An untouched layer of snow blanketed its long front yard. Windows were plentiful, all of which were lit with those distinct orange lights.

The car pulled into the long driveway, normally protected by a gate, but tonight that gate was left open, allowing them to drive through with ease. As they drove closer to the main manor, he could see the two other sprawling houses that surrounded a large courtyard highlighting a marble fountain.

When the car came upon the front of the manor, there was a man in a black tailcoat tuxedo waiting for them. The car came to a stop, and the man came around the hood to the driver’s door.

“Miss (y/n), welcome home,” he said as he opened the door. (y/n) thanked him, taking his outstretched hand and stepping onto the scalloped cobblestone.  

When the door closed behind her, leaving Credence inside. The two were clearly conversing, presumably about him. She would steal a glance at him through the window a few times while she spoke. The man, who he could now see was no longer in his youth, only nodded compliantly. When the two seemed to come to an understanding, (y/n) walked around to his side of the car, opening it for him to step out.

“Follow me,” She said, taking his hand.

She wasted no time pulling him from his seat and leading him off to some side entrance of the manor. The door they entered was smaller than the wide, double-doors he saw at the front entrance. Inside was just as grand as the outside. The door they took lead to a kitchen as big as the chapel he lived in. Currently, it was packed with chefs prepping large platters of food and servers organizing the trays.

(y/n) clasped his hand tightly as they bulldozed their way through the kitchen. She apologized to the passing help, weaving her way through to the door that stood on the opposite end of the room. Credence kept his head low, allowing her to guide him. Once they reached the adjacent door, she pushed her way through, pulling him down a hallway that he could see led to a set of stairs.

They were rushing down the hall when they passed a side room they didn’t realize was occupied. Their footsteps prompted the voice of a woman to call out into the hall.

“(y/n), honey, you’re back already?”

(y/n) stopped in her tracks, cursing under her breath. She held her finger up to her lips, telling Credence to stay quiet.

“Yes.” She answered.

The woman called out again. “I thought the shops would be busy today.”

“They were.”

“Well, did you get everything you wanted?”

“Yes.”

There was a moment’s pause before the woman spoke again.

“Alright,” she said. “Don’t go picking at the food in the kitchen! You’ll just have to wait until tonight like everyone else!”

(y/n) rolled her eyes. “Alright, Mom.”

She signaled for Credence to continue walking towards the staircase as her mother continued to talk from the room.

“And once you put your gifts away, come back and help me finish arranging the poinsettias in the foyer!”

“I will!” She yelled back while pulling Credence up the stairs.

She practically dragged him down the upstairs hall and pushed him into a room, closing the door behind them. That flowery scent that was distinctly hers immediately overtook his senses. The wide, circular room was lit up by various lamps and a sparkling chandelier made of iridescent crystals that hung at its centre. The dark wood panelling of the walls contrasted the rosy accents: blush pink art deco wallpaper, tall white drapes that covered balcony doors, the various mix-match carpets that covered the wood floor like patchwork. The broad circular bed enclosed in a silky white canopy sat against the wall next to a small fireplace. On the other side was a door he assumed led to a bathroom.

(y/n) stood awkwardly by a three-mirror vanity, bashfully fiddling with a silver hairbrush. She’d shed her coat.  

“Sorry about her,” she muttered. “She gets like this around the holidays.”

It was overwhelming, being in her room. He’d barely had a moment to register all that was happening. Now that he had the chance to breathe, his anxiety got the better of him. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He should be in the city, on his knees begging his mother to forgive him, not miles away in King’s Point; and definitely not in her bedroom.  

“This was a mistake. I shouldn’t be here—”

“You promised me, Credence,” she interjected, silencing him. “Please... Just let me have tonight.”

He clenched his jaw, turning his head to stare at the wall. It was better than looking in her eyes. He heard her move from the vanity. The sound of a cabinet being opened caught his attention. She had an armoire of her own, though hers was grander than his. It towered over her, composed of white and gold painted wood. From inside, she retrieved a blueberry colored suit. Credence recognized it as the suit she eyed in the window the week before. 

“I got you something,” she said, placing the suit on the bed, along with a fresh pair of brown oxfords. “I know you told me not to... but I just couldn’t help myself.”

Credence walked to the edge of the bed, brushing the material with his fingers. She got this for him.  

She moved to a dresser, where she pulled a neatly folded white towel and cloth from the drawer. She walked back to his side, holding the towels out for him to take.

“There's a bathroom behind that door. You can take a bath and get yourself ready. I’ll come back once I’ve finished helping my mother.”

He took the towels from her hands, leaning towards the idea of a bath. His body still hadn’t completely warmed from the ride, and his clothes still stuck uncomfortably to his skin. She left him alone in her bedroom, closing the door behind her as she left.

Credence stayed by her bed even after she had left. He took the suit into his hands. The material was thick and soft. He could tell by the fine stitches it was of high quality, unlike the suit he currently wore. He collected the pants and shoes in his arms and walked to the bathroom door. Much like the bedroom, her bathroom was big. A porcelain bathtub resting on top of golden legs facing a large window that looked over one of the gardens. Credence walked across the mosaic floor and turned the knob of the tub. Hot water rushed from the faucet and filled the tub. Steam rose into the air, forging the mirror above the sink. He placed his clothes on a stool away from the tub so it wouldn’t get wet.

Stripping himself of his clothes, he dipped his foot into the warm water. Pleased by the feeling of the hot water heating his skin, he pulled the rest of his body into the tub and submerged himself until only his head remained above water. He sat in the water unmoving for a while with his eyes closed. The water relaxed his tense muscles, ridding his body of the prickling cold. As he sat there, resting his head against the edge of the tub, he thought about how long this would last. Why did she bring him here? 

Credence opened his eyes and found a rectangular bar of soap sitting on the tub’s edge. He lifted his hand from the water and took it, bringing it to his nose. Lavenders. 

He really shouldn’t be here. There was a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that was sure something would go wrong. His mind went back to what she’d said. He promised her he would stay with her tonight. He supposed he did, even if he hadn't explicitly say the words ‘I promise’. Taking her hand was more than an answer. 

But he had made another promise—a promise to someone he never dared to disobey so brazenly. He promised he would never see her again, to wipe her from his life and pretend like she never existed. And yet, here he was, laying in her bathtub, washing himself with her soap, wearing the clothes she bought him, and standing in her room. 

Credence stared at himself in the mirror by the armoire, now dressed in the blueberry suit she’d given him. It fit perfectly, as though it were made for him. It probably was. The shoes on his feet were comfortable. At first, he didn’t think they would fit; they were much larger than the pair of shoes he always wore. But after he pulled his socks up and slid his foot inside, he realized it wasn't that the shoes were too big, but his were a size too small. He could walk in them without his toes uncomfortably pressing against the tip. His toes could breathe and soles of his feet didn’t ache with every step. 

He almost didn't recognize his reflection. It was like another person was staring at him in the mirror. He looked like one of the men he admired in Times Square. The handsome scholars who came down from The Eggs to frequent the speakeasies to unwind after a long day of doing whatever rich boys do. He looked like the kind of man she belonged with.

A knock came from beyond the door.  “Are you decent?” Her muffled voice called from behind it. 

The door opened, and she peaked her head inside, meeting his eyes immediately.

“I knew it’d look good on you,” She smiled brightly, making her way towards him. “Does it fit nicely? I tried my best to guess your measurements. I was afraid it would be a bit off.”

He let her place her hands on his chest, smoothing the fabric of any wrinkles. His heart beat in his chest loudly, like it always did when she got this close. He watched her closely as she looked him over, avoiding his eyes. Her hands flew up to the black tie around his neck. 

“Your tie is a bit crooked.” She chuckled softly, taking the tie into her hands. “Let me.”

“Why are you nice to me?” He spoke lowly as she untied the knot. 

She furrowed her brows, her hands halting. “I’m sorry?”

“Most people would have ignored me had they saw me lying on the streets like I was today, and the day we met. Many people did. But you...” Credence struggled to find the words. “You helped me after I had fallen and dropped my papers, then you drove me home. The other week you insisted on buying me a coat, even though I told you I was fine without one, and then you took me to that restaurant. And then today, you convinced Father Blackwell to let my mother speak. You’ve been kind to me without even knowing me. Why?”

(y/n) lifted her head to meet his eyes. “Do I need a reason?” She countered. “Can’t I just want to?”

When he didn’t answer, she understood that wouldn’t be enough. She sighed, focusing her attention back on the tie. 

“Why did I do those things?” She bit her cheek in thought. “The night we met, I saw what that jerk did and wanted to help you. You looked so... sad. People walked over you—ignored you. It was like you didn’t exist, like I was the only one who saw you. I didn’t like it—seeing you like that. I just thought it would be nice to see a smile on your face. Maybe if I saw you smile, it would make me feel better.”

“Now that I’ve seen your smile, I’ve become a bit fond of it. Addicted is probably the better word. After seeing you smile for the first time, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I wanted to see it all the time. If stuffing you full of burgers and teaching you how to skate put a smile on your face, I would do it. I would do anything to keep you smiling.”

She looped the tail of the tie and pulled the knot, tightening it around his neck. She adjusted his collar and let her hands fall to her sides. Her eyes flickered up to meet his. 

“So, I guess the answer to your question is: I did those things because I like you.”

Credence swallowed the lump rising in his throat, sending it back down to his chest. His eyes glistened in the light, glazed with rising tears. His heart ached in his chest, still hanging on to her words. ‘Like’? She liked him?

“And now?” His voice cracked. “Do you still fell that way? Even after the things I said?”

“Why did you say those things?” It was clear she had been wanting to ask this for a while. “Did I do something—say something to upset you?”

Credence vigorously shook his head. “No!” 

He clasped her hands tightly, taking her by surprise. “It’s not you,” he tried to explain. “It was never you.”

She held his hands just as tight, like she was afraid he would fade away if she let go. “Then?”

He swallowed again, looking down at his feet. “It’s my mother... she...” 

(y/n) frowned. She lifted Credence’s hand, turning his palm upward to expose the raised scars on his palms. 

“Was she the one who did this to you?” She whispered, though it sounded as if she already knew the answer. 

Credence stayed silent. He didn’t have the strength to say it out lout. 

“Did she leave you out on the street?” She asked, anger rising in her voice. 

“She doesn’t want me to see you anymore,” He muttered, shamefully. 

“Is that what you want?” 

Credence stilled. Nobody had ever asked him what he wanted. They locked eyes, (y/n)’s stared deeply into his, yearning for an answer. He barely opened his mouth to answer when a knock came from beyond the door, the person behind it bursting into the room. 

(y/n) dropped his hands, turning to face the culprit.

“Aaron, how many times have I told you to wait for me to answer before coming in my room?”

Aaron was a stocky man, just a few inches shorter than Credence. His angular face was covered with a tapered beard. He had the same (s/c) skin and (h/c) hair as (y/n), but his eyes were a light brown. He wore a black formal tuxedo with a matching bowtie. The smile on his face fell slightly as he looked between her and Credence. 

“Sorry sis, I didn’t realize you had company.”

(y/n) sighed, crossing her arms. “What do you want?”

Tearing his eyes from Credence, Aaron turned his attention to his sister, his smile widening. “I just thought you might like to say hello to someone.”

(y/n) raised a curious brow. “Who?”

The answer to her question walked in not a second later, dressing in a black fitted full dress tuxedo. He too shared a similar complexion to (y/n) and Aaron, but unlike Aaron, his eyes were the same has hers. He smiled, displaying a row of perfectly straight white teeth. “Hey. Did you miss me, street rat?”

(y/n)’s eyes widened, “Channing?”

Channing chuckled as she sped towards him. “The one and only—Ow!”

(y/n) had punched him hard in the shoulder. “Why didn't you tell me you were coming home?!”

Aaron snickered to the side. “Told you she would do that.”

“Well, that would defeat the purpose of it being a surprise, now wouldn't it?” He said, clutching his sore shoulder. “Can’t you act like a normal sister and be happy I’m back?”

“I am happy, you jerk,” she smiled, pulling him into a hug. He hugged her back gladly. It was clear the two missed each other greatly. 

“(y/n), who’s this?” Channing asked, looking over her shoulder at Credence.  

(y/n) too looked over her shoulder, her lips still holding her elated smile. “Aaron, Channing, this is Credence. He’s my plus one for tonight.”

“Right.” Aaron skeptically squinted at Credence. “And do Mom and Dad know that you have a boy in your room?”

(y/n) placed a hand on her hip. “I don’t know. Do Mom and Dad know about you and Mr. Finnegan’s daughter?” She deflected with a glare. 

Aaron cleared his throat, wrapping an arm around his younger brother and pushing him towards the door. “We’ll see you downstairs.”

“Wait,” (y/n) went to grab Credence by the hand and pulled him towards her brothers.  “Why don’t you show Credence around? You can bond and do whatever boys do while I get ready.”

They all looked at Credence, who was too petrified to protest the proposition. Aaron gave Credence a look that made him think he wasn’t too keen on the idea, but kept his otherwise cheerful smile. 

“I don’t see why not,” said Channing kindly, flashing an inviting grin much like the one (y/n) had given him many times before. He was starting to see the similarities between the two. 

“Yeah, come on, Credence,” Aaron agreed, throwing his free arm around Credence’s shoulder. “Hang with us guys for a while, we’re much more fun than she is.”

(y/n) rolled her eyes, escorting the men out of her bedroom. Credence’s pleading eyes silently asked for her not to leave him on his own, but she said nothing to stop them. She only gave him a comforting smile from the doorframe as they pulled him from the door. 

“I’ll see you in a bit.” She promised. 

Aaron and Channing dragged Credence down the hall, guiding him to another set of stairs. Unlike the ones (y/n) had sneaked him up an hour before, these stairs weren’t hidden in a corner at the end of the hall. It was a grand bifurcated staircase, with wide, velvet-clad sweeping steps that plunged into a wide landing that split in two directions: upwards to another wing of the manor, and downwards to the foyer. He could hear the music and babbling chatter clearly from the top of the staircase. The two brothers led him down the many steps, and again down the steps to the foyer where a great crowd of well-dressed men and women conversed under dropping garlands and mistletoe.

Without warning, they pulled him into the crowd, weaving their way through fur shawls and padded tuxedos. Tucked away in a corner of the room, Credence saw something he’d least expected: a familiar face. 

There, resting against a paneled wall, was Edmund Tully, drinking from a half finished glass of brandy. His eyes were distant and seemed to dart around the room, looking for something or someone. He wasn’t entirely sure if Edmund found what he was looking for, because when Aaron had called out to him, he gave up on his previous endeavor. 

It appeared that Edmund was not only friendly with Aaron, but Channing as well. They greeted each other as old friends do, with open arms, harmless roughhousing. Credence stood idly by, feeling out of place. It was only when Edmund set his green on him that Credence was pulled into their circle. Aaron noticed his friend’s stare and pointed his attention towards him. 

Aaron gestured to Credence, snapping his fingers. “Eds, this is uh—this is—give me a second—”

“Credence,” Edmund made up for Aaron’s forgetfulness. “Am I right? We met before.”

Aaron and Channing looked between the two unlikely acquaintances. “You have?” The eldest brother asked. 

Credence nodded, confirming Edmund’s claim. 

“Through (y/n), of course,” Edmund clarified. 

“I see,” Aaron hummed. 

A server in a tight vest came up the group of men with a tray full of glasses filled with a pinkish liquid. Credence watched as they each took a glass from the tray. 

“Do you drink, Credence?” Asked Channing, noticing Credence’s empty hand. 

“Sure he does!” Aaron exclaimed, taking an extra glass and shoving a it into Credence’s unsuspecting hand. “It’s Christmas!”

Giving into the pressure of the situation, Credence accepted the drink. It wouldn’t be the worst thing he’s done today. The gentleman made a simple Christmas toast, before taking their own respectable gulps. 

Credence brought the glass to his lips, letting the strange liquid slow past his lips and hit his tongue. Somehow the cold liquid felt like heat on his tongue, vibrating down his throat and spreading that warmth into his chest. It was a strange sensation, but not entirely unpleasant. While it was strong with alcohol, the sugary sweet after-taste made it palatable. He took another sip. 

Credence found Aaron and Channing to be decent men. Channing was more friendly to Credence that Aaron, but it had more to due with the age difference and the extenuating circumstances in which they’d met. He supposed it must have been hard warming up to the strange man who was found alone in your younger sister’s room. 

Edmund on the other hand didn’t address him much at all, only speaking to him when obligated. He had the sneaking suspicion that Edmund didn’t like him at all. Credence could care less. To be fair, Credence wasn’t sure he liked him either. 

Like (y/n) had asked, the two brothers, along with Edmund, showed Credence around the mansion. They took him upstairs and downstairs, through long halls and into opulent rooms that were also filled with partygoers. All the while, they continued to keep a full glass in their hands. Credence had drank four full glasses of pink drink by the time they circled back to the foyer—and they hadn’t even venture half of the vast manor. He wasn’t fully convinced that just one family lived in such a palace. 

They loitered the foyer, the music in the next room traveled well, distracting him from the conversation he wasn’t completely involved in. His eyes darted around the room, glossing over the painted and shaven faces of the other guests. He didn’t know what he was looking for until he found it—or rather— her. 

Descending from the heavens that was the staircase landing was her elegant figure, clothed in a velvety red dress that hung off her shoulders. Her hair fell in waves around her face, adorned with pins that resembled holly. The long pointed sleeves clung to her skin along with the rest of the dress, hugging her figure dangerously. He was the first to see her, and in parallel, she saw him first; her painted red lips curling into a wide grin once their eyes met. 

His chest was filled with a fluttering excitement as his eyes followed her movements drawing nearer. She walked straight towards him, bowing her head shyly as she got closer. The others noticed her too, hooting and hollering as she came, embarrassing her more. 

“The Princess has finally decided grace the party with her presence,” Aaron playfully jeered. 

“It’s not easy being the most attractive in the family, it takes a lot of work to look this good,” She bantered. 

“Tons of it, if you ask me,” Channing muttered snidely as he took a sip of his drink, causing a fit of harmless laughter between all of them but Credence. 

“You look amazing,” Edmund complimented over the giggles. 

(y/n) thanked him, her eyes drifting back to Credence expectingly. Flustered, Credence sputtered the first words that came to mind. “You look beautiful, you always do.”

(y/n) blushed, her girlish smile reaching her ears. Her brothers found the interaction equally amusing, stifling their laughter. Though Edmund didn’t find it so amusing, his once joyous expression faltering. 

“I have to steal my brothers for a moment,” (y/n) revealed. 

“What for?” Channing asked, unaware that he was needed. 

“Mom wants to see us all for a portrait. You were supposed to have been there by now. Daddy’s getting restless,” she told them.

Aaron cursed under his breath, having forgotten about the detail. He turned to his friend and handed him his drink. “It will only be a minute.”

Aaron and Channing hurried off towards the stairs whence (y/n) had come. Before she left, she met Credence’s eye. “Just wait for me here, okay? I’ll be right back.” 

She then disappeared up the stairs with her brothers, leaving him alone with Edmund. And then there were two. 

“Why don’t I show you to the gardens,” Edmund suggested after an awkward beat of silence. 

Credence didn’t get the chance to deny the offer before Edmund turned on his heels and headed towards the door, beckoning him to follow. Out of pure obligation, Credence followed, venturing from the manor and out into the cold (though the consistent warm buzzing in his head and chest kept him warm enough). 

Edmund guided Credence around to the main garden that sat in the center of the sprawling houses. Snow covered the hedges and statues that scattered the grounds. 

“Where are you from, Credence?” Edmund asked suddenly as they walked the garden path. 

Credence shrugged his shoulders. “Here.” 

“No, you’re not,” he said. “You might be from New York, but you’re not from here.”

Credence’s brow furrowed. What was he playing at?

“How did you meet (y/n)?” He pestered. 

“In Times Square,” Credence answered. “She helped me when I fell on the street. We kept running into each other ever since.”

Credence wasn’t sure why he was telling him all this, but he felt if he wanted to know, why not tell him? 

“You know, it's charming,” said Edmund. “How you’re sweet on (y/n). It’s pretty obvious. You look at her like a little puppy dog. It’s almost endearing. But it’s pointless.”

“Pointless?” Credence repeated. 

Edmund stared blankly at the younger boy. A sly smirk teetered on his lips.  “Oh, come on. Do you... Do you actually think you have a chance with her?”

Credence’s silence only amused him more, spurring him to laugh tauntingly. “Oh my God, you do! I almost feel bad for you!” It was only now that Credence noticed the subtle slur of his words. “Listen, mate, I’m only saying this because I feel like we could be friends. It's not going to happen. (y/n) is a sweet girl, almost too sweet. She’s oblivious to these kinds of things, you see?” He leaned against a stone post.

“How should I explain this? I’ve watched her grow up, and I have seen many young chaps like you fall all over her. She doesn’t realize her kindness attracts people. There have been many broken hearts left at her feet. You don’t want yours added to the pile, trust me.”

Yes, Credence decided in that moment he didn’t like Edmund at all. He took too much of a likeness to Ripley; they had the same condescending leer. The buzzing of his head wouldn’t allow him to hide his obvious disdain, and for the first time Credence would speak his mind, unafraid of the consequences. 

“Is yours one of them?” He asked boldly. 

“Excuse me?”

“Your heart,” he reiterated. “Is it one of the ones she broke?”

“I—”

“Do you feel threatened by me? Are you afraid that she might not like you as much as you think?” 

“What did you just say to me?” Edmund sputtered. 

Credence continued, feeling no shame for what he was about to slur and stutter. “She’s only nice to you because you’re friends with her brother and she’s known you for so long. But that isn’t enough to win her affection. Deep down, you know that.”

Edmund took Credence by the collar, “I suggest you stop talking,” he whispered dangerously. 

“You say that I don’t have a chance, then what do you have?” Credence chuckled provokingly. “She said she likes me. Has she ever said she likes you?”

“You don’t know a damn thing!” Yelled Edmund, red in the face. “To her, you’re just a pet. A sad little puppy she has to take care of. She’ll give you treats and dress you up like a doll, but it doesn’t mean anything. She’ll never see you as a man.”

“Is this what you do?” Asked Credence. “You drive away any person who you think might come between you and (y/n)? There’s nothing to come between. She’s not yours. She never was. And she’s not mine either. I don’t care if she doesn’t feel the same way I do. That doesn’t matter. But she said she liked me... and I like her.” Credence smiled. “And that is more than anything you’ll ever have with her.”

A powerful fist collided with his left cheek, sending him to the ground. The pleasing buzz in his head was replaced with rushing blood pounding against his temple. 

“I told you to stop talking,” the assailant heaved. 

Credence struggled to his hands and knees. The punch left a metallic taste in his mouth, and a bubbling rage in his stomach. Without thinking, he lunged forward, tackling Edmund to the ground. The two fell in a heap on the cobblestone, wrestling and thrashing violently. Credence got the upper-hand, landing a satisfying punch in the face, leaving Edmund with a bloodied nose. It didn’t last, because as soon as Credence wrestled his way on top, he was back under him, taking blows to the face and ribs. 

He couldn’t react fast enough to defend himself, and honestly, it was a miracle he landed a punch in the first place. He curled into himself to protect his face and ribs. The same vibrating rage he felt earlier that same day with Ripley danced under his skin. His thoughts faded in and out between consciousness, each unfamiliar thought being one of violence and rage. Pure, dark rage. 

Edmund may have got a peak at this entity—a glimpse into it’s glassy white eyes. If he had, he didn't say so. He only hesitated, a look of both confusion and fear flashing over his once blinding anger when their eyes locked. If he had seen those shining white eyes, they disappeared as soon as they came, her voice retreating the beast inside. 

“EDDY! CREDENCE! STOP IT!”

It was a trick of the lights, Edmund would later conclude. A figment of his drunken imagination. But it wasn’t true. The truth was Credence had a part of himself he couldn’t control—a part of himself that could destroy buildings and uproot roads—a part of him he couldn’t control, that is, until he met her. Until the sound of her sweet voice reached his ears and calmed the blackness to its dormant state.  

Edmund was pulled off of him, pushed several feet back while she dove for him on the ground, dirtying her red dress. The light from the lamppost and house gave the illusion that she glowed in the night.

Her eyes were big with worry. “Credence, are you okay? Does it hurt?” She helped him sit up, taking his face gently in her hands. It didn’t hurt. He couldn't feel anything but her warm hands caressing his cheeks. 

“I’m hurt too, (y/n),” Edmund croaked from his place. Aaron and Channing were there, barricading him away. “I got hit too. Why don’t you ask me if I’m okay? Huh?!”

(y/n) glared back at him. “You’re drunk!”

Edmund’s red face became wet with hot, angry tears. “WHY DON’T YOU ASK ME, (Y/N)?! DON’T YOU LIKE ME TOO?”

She held on to Credence's arm, holding him close. “I think you should go,” she muttered. 

Edmund sniffed, a look of pure heartbreak slapping over his chiseled features. “(y/n)...” He called for her one last desperate time, but she turned away, shutting him out completely. 

“Come on, man,” Aaron said sternly, pushing him back. “Let’s take a walk, okay?”

“GET OFF ME!” Edmund pushed Aaron away from him, staggering backward. He took one last long look at (y/n), hoping that she would look at him again. But she didn't. Her eyes stayed trained on Credence. He stepped back, defeated. 

“I can walk by my bloody self,” he slurred bitterly, retreating further into the garden, Aaron chasing after him. 

“Can you stand up?” (y/n) asked softly, taking Credence by the hand and pulling him to his feet. 

Channing helped as well, guiding them both back into the house. They stayed away from the festivities, taking the hidden stairs back up to her room. Channing had retrieved a medical kit after they reached her room, leaving once (y/n) insisted she could care for Credence on her own. 

Now, he sat next to her on her bed, while she shifted through the medical kit. His eyes trained on a young, black, hairless cat played curled up in a stuffed bed by the fire. This must’ve been the cat she had told him about. 

“Do you mind telling me what that was about or are you just going to stay silent?” Asked after the long silence. 

“It was nothing,” he told her, as she took his face in her hands to examine the wounds on his cheek and lip. 

“Yeah, right.” She muttered, taking a wet cotton swab and dabbing it on his scraped cheek. It burned, causing him to wince. She stopped immediately, looking apologetic. “Sorry.”

She went for the medical kit again, rummaging through it messily before stopping abruptly.

“You know what, I’m not sorry! Serves you right worrying me like that! I leave you for one minute and you’re picking fights in the street! Just look what he’s done to your face!” She cupped the side of his face where Edmund had punched him. She sighed, taking another cotton swab from the kit. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to yell. I don’t like seeing you hurt is all.”

He looked at her deeply through lidded eyes as she dabbed the cut on his lip. 

“We were fighting about you,” he confessed.

She stopped, her eyes flickered to his for a moment, before focusing back on his lip. “Me? Why on Earth would you be fighting about me?”

He didn’t say. She waited for an answer, but soon concluded she wouldn’t get one. He hissed when she began applying cream on his cuts. “Fine, then,” she mumbled irritably. “Don’t answer me. Just hold still—”

His lips were on hers before she could finish her harping. The swab fell from her hand in shock, her eyes wide as saucers. He was kissing her. His eyes were closed, his lips plush against hers. He ignored the sting of his cut as he pressed his lips onto hers like he’d seen couples do many times before. His heart pounded in his ears. He would have kept kissing her if he hadn’t held his breath for too long. When they parted, and he opened his eyes to see her staring, awestruck. 

His ears turned red, and a wave of embarrassment crashed over him, realizing what he’d done. “I-I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I shouldn’t have—”

Her soft lips crashed into his with passionate force, her hands flying to caress the nape of his neck. Now, it was his turn to be taken aback. Credence had kissed her how shy young couples do: pressing his lips onto hers. But she kissed him like lovers do, moving her lips feverishly against his, licking his lips coyly with her tongue. Imitating her actions, Credence let his eyes fall shut, opening his mouth for her. Her tongue slipped passed his lips and swirled around his, welcoming the foreign sensation.

“(y/n)...” He whimpered out of pure instinct. 

She pulled away, leaving him a blushing, panting mess. 

“That’s the first time I’ve heard you call me by my name,” she whispered. A smile stretched across her lips.  “Say it again.”

Credence’s cheeks burned, but he gladly did what she asked. 

“... (y/n),” he called her name again.

“Again.”

“(y/n),” he repeated.

“Credence,” she whispered his name, sending shivers down his spine.

“(y/n),” he whispered breathlessly. 

“Credence.”

“(y/n).”

She captured his lips in another sensual kiss, pushing him back onto the bed. The medical kit fell to the ground, forgotten. She laid on top of him, her legs wrapped around his thin waist, pressing her body against his like he’d imagined many times before. His heart thundered in his chest, his mind consumed by her. Lavender and vanilla, it was all around him; pressing against him, kissing him, caressing him.

“Credence,” she said between fiery kisses. “I want you.”

“Y-You want me?” He flushed, making her giggle. 

“Yes,” she chuckled, taking his hand. “Do... Do you want me too?” Her voice was small and unsure. 

Credence nodded, lacing his fingers between hers. “I’ll always want you.”

His words seemed to spur her on, reviving her confidence. “Is this okay?”

The touch of her hand on his thigh traveled down to his waist, sending shivers up his spine. The beat of his heart pulsed powerfully in his chest, ringing in his ears. He watched expectantly as she drew nearer, hovering over him. One of her hands rose to tenderly cup his cheek. Her hand was soft and warm against him. The way she touched him was unlike any other. She was always so gentle with him, so kind. 

Their lips were mere inches apart. So close he could feel her warm breath on his skin. She looked at him through hooded lids, her eyes darkened to a deep shade of (e/c).

Credence swallowed. “I...I’ve never...”

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I want to.” 

She grinned, kissing his lips tenderly to calm his nerves. He felt her fingers move to unbutton his suit jacket. She pulled it off his shoulders, discarding it to the floor.

“Just relax,” she cooed. “I’ll take care of you.”

His black tie slipped off with ease, the buttons of his white dress shirt opened one by one the sound of fabric rubbing against each other and sultry sighs filling their ears. His shirt joined the jacket onto the ground, leaving him half-naked under her. He felt exposed, his eyes nervously fidgeting around the room. 

Her warm hands grazed the sides of his waist, delicately dancing up to his chest. She noticed the change in his breathing, his chest rising up and down in anticipation. He’d never been touched like this by anyone, not once. But now, as her hands glossed over his torso causing goosebumps to rise even though his skin was burning hot, he realized he wanted to be touched by her all the time, in every way. He wanted to kiss her over and over again; to feel her lips against his. He wanted to be close to her in the closest way possible.

As if answering his silent prayers, she pressed her chest against his, her breath tickling his cheeks. She kisses the mark on his cheekbone tenderly, then the corner of his lips, then his jaw. His eyes lull back. He let his head fall to the side, presenting his neck to her. Her hot breath on his neck excited him. Her lip pressed soft kisses down his jaw and neck, marking him with her red lipstick. Her wet tongue licked a stripe up his jugular, and he made a sound he’d only made once before in the confines of his room. 

She did it again, licking, sucking, and biting at the sensitive flesh of his neck. Credence bit his lip, muffling his desperate mewls. 

Her lips kissed up to the spot just under his ear. “It’s okay,” she whispered in his ear. “No one else can hear us. It’s just me.” 

Hoping to drive out more sweet moans, she sucked on the flesh of his neck she learned to be the most sensitive. His hips bucked upwards, grinding between her legs. He squirmed pathetically under her, his desperate pants and moans filling the room. 

His body was sensitive to her every touch, each kiss sending jolts of electricity through his body. She left love bites on the expanse of his neck and collarbone, coloring his pale skin purple and mauve. 

She caught his lips in another open-mouthed kiss, assaulting his mouth with his tongue at her pleasure. 

“Is... C-Can I touch you?” He asked through her kisses. 

She pulled away, her nose brushing against his. “Always,” she breathed. 

His hands daringly glided over her arms, reaching around her back. His fingers found the zipper to her dress and pinched, pulling it down her back until it stopped at her waist. She slid out of the dress with ease, slipping it off her body and letting it pool around her waist. His eyes glued to her bare chest, turning red from the neck up. She took his hands and guided them up her sides, outlining her feminine curves. 

She brought his hands to cup her breasts. His touch was hot on her skin, her own blush burning undeneath. He could feel her heart pounding wildly in his chest, and he knew she was just as excited as him. He let his body act on its own, his hands massaging her breasts. She let out a shaky breath, her mouth falling open. 

He continued, brushing his thumbs against her hardened nipples. Her hips rocked sensually against his twitching member. Her name slipped past his lips, his eyes trained on her figure above him. Her hands pressed on his chest, her hips moving in circles over him. Credence sat himself up, snaking his arms around her hips, gripping them firmly. They stared at each other breathlessly through half-lidded eyes. Credence’s already dark eyes turned to black pools reflecting in the moonlight. 

He mimicked her affections, placing chaste kisses under her jaw. He kissed the expanse of her neck, tasting her soft skin. He pulled her hips into him, guiding her movements in his lap. His length strained against his trousers, aching to be touched. 

“You said you want to touch me, right?” She panted. “Touch me here.”

She moved his right hand from her hip, slipping it under the velvety veil that covered where she wanted him most. He could feel her through thin lacy fabric, her heat already slick with arousal. He experimentally rubbed his fingers up and down her slit, studying the twitches and jolts of her body. She seemed to really enjoy when his fingers brushed against a certain spot, so he kept his attention there, rubbing steady circles around the sensitive area. 

Her hands gripped his shoulders, her head falling to rest in the crook of his neck. He enjoyed hearing her high-pitched moans, even as they were muffled against his neck. He pressed harder, picking up his pace to hear more. Her hips jut against his hand, jerking every so often. Her breaths quickened, and she whimpered his name in his ear. 

“Faster,” she’d pant desperately, her grip on his shoulders tightening. 

He did, circling his fingers as best he knew how. Her thighs tightened around his legs, her body stilled but he didn't stop. Only when he felt her body shake and relax against him did he stop, her sweet satisfied moan reaching his ears. 

He held her in his arms, peppering kisses on her shoulder and neck as she steadied her breathing. When she did lift her head from his neck, she pecked his lips and cheek. She held his face in her hands and moved to lie on her back, pulling him down in the process. 

He planted his hands on either side of her head. He admired her from above. Her red lipstick was faded, smudged messily on her chin, having been transfered on his own lips and neck. She didn’t break eye contact as her hands unbuttoned his trousers, pulling them down his waist and kicking them off with her feet along with his boxers. They lingered like that, just staring and admiring one another. He didn’t feel embarrassed. He felt strangely calm. The rest of the world seemed to float away. Nothing else mattered. Not the party down stairs, or the people laughing and drinking. Not Edmund and his jealousy, and not his mother and her vilification. Nothing mattered but her and him together in this room, together in her bed. 

He bent down to kiss her with all the passion and love he could muster. She was everything he could ever want and more. She was his saving grace, his goddess. He wanted to show her how much he loved her. ‘Closer,’ he thought. He needed to be closer to her.

Their lips and hips magnetized, their bodies melded together. He whispered her name like a mantra because he knew she liked hearing it as much as he liked saying it. He felt her hands slip between their bodies, grasping his length. She guided him to where she needed him, his tip pressing teasingly at her entrance. With her help, he eased inside, feeling her wrap tightly around him. They sighed in each others mouth, devouring their intoxicated moans. Her legs wrapped around his waist, urging him further. 

She opened for him like a flower in bloom. His hips moved without having to think. Being with her felt so natural. Every move he made came to him like second nature. His thrusts were slow and gentle, drawing wanton moans from her lips. Her hips rocked into him with equal fervor. She collected his moans with her kiss, her fingers tangling themselves in his hair. 

He lost himself in the feeling of her, his pace quickening. He watched her pretty face morph into varying expressions of pleasure, each thrust of his hips creating a new one. He’d never felt so good in his life. His body tingled and his skin burned pleasantly. He didn’t know it was possible to feel such pure, utter euphoria. 

He fisted the rosy silk sheets, his breath stopping in his throat. She tightened around him, and like a wave crashing down on a cliff side, he came. His body vibrated and twitched above her. He called her name into the air, his spastic thrusts edging her to her end, which—by the sounds of her shameless cries—was as powerful and illustrious as his. 

There was a moment of stillness; a moment in which they heard nothing but their shallow breaths and the crackle of the fire. They could do nothing but stay in their connected position with eyes locked. Credence fell to his side next to her on the bed. His muscles ached and his skin was slick with sweat, but he was filled with unwavering adulation. Eyes still locked, they said so much without needing to say anything at all. His hand found hers, lacing his fingers between her small ones.

They laid there, staring lovingly in each other’s eyes for what felt like hours. He silently adored her, memorizing the details of her features until his eyes grew heavy from exhaustion, slowly falling shut as graceful as the falling snow outside.  

Credence pried open his tired eyes. The fire still burned beside him. It crackled and danced, keeping the exhausted pair warm under the thin sheets. The moonlight broke through the balcony glass door and cast shadows of the curtains across the room. There was no music heard from downstairs and the manor outside sounded empty of all festivities. 

He took the time to embrace her presence. She laid on her side, facing him. Her eyes were still shut, soft snores falling from her lips. She held his hand between their bodies. Her thick (h/c) hair sprawled wildly around her, messed by their passionate love affair. And still, even with her hair a mess, and the corner of her lips wet with drool, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He reached his free hand to brush the fray hairs from her eyes, watching her lips twitch and curl into a sleepy smile when his thumb brushed against her cheek. That smile alone rid his mind of any and all doubts that still lingered. 

There are very few moments in life worth living for. Most things in life are mundane and repetitive, and when they weren't, they were bleak and agonizing. He’d been through it many times before, taking in so much pain he thought death was a kinder fate. But, as he lay next to her, listening to her slow steady breaths, watching the rise and fall of her chest while she slept; he knew he would face it all again, if it meant he could have more of these moments with her.  

[vogueinnie]

HEAVEN OR HELL ; part. 2 TEASER - PART 1 - PART 2 - (...)

       ━ WARNINGS ; demon!hyunjin, virgin fem!reader

if you feel uncomfortable with the mentions of religion, please don’t read this story cause there are a lot blasphem, mentions of Lucifer and Mammon (Lucifer’s son)

corruption kink, fear kink, humiliation (and not only in a sexual way), mention of killing a cat, pet name (angel), manipulation, mention of alcohol (wine), reader is ashamed of herself, sir kink, nipple play, clitoral masturbation, grinding, very slight choking, slight possessive kink, no penetrative sex

     ━ WORD COUNT ; 3.3k      ━ NOTE ; part 2!!! the smut part is kinda... soft? but the naaaasty is coming!!! also sorry for that cliffhanger at the end zjfhdzfz. feedback are so welcomed!!

The sinister forest in which you walked every morning now was very different from the glittering glade you were used to. The trees were whopping and if you looked at them for too long you can see red eyes forming in the wood. Or was it your imagination ? No one never knows. No beautiful tulips, no cute birds tickling your ears with their cute whistles, no bunnies jumping here and there. Just dead flowers and a mortifying dead silence.

Everything was dead.

All the love and joy living in your heart were starting to fade away. You can’t even remember for how long you were stuck in this place you don’t belong. The time seemed to be unfairly long. The days were all the same, empty, but tormenting in a certain way. You even started to forget how it was, in Heaven.

But in your misfortune you were lucky. Mammon chooses you. He was one of the most powerful of this world, after all. You were constantly watched, mocked by the people living here for being an angel. But what was wrong in being good ? Hyunjin was walking you everywhere like a trophy, or a dog, exposing you to everyone with the leather leash he used on you the first time you both met. They all seemed both amazed and disgusted by you. 

“Why did Mammon chooses her ? Is she that special ? She’s an angel, how can he spends his day with her ?” were most of the words you were able to hear when you were around the devilish creatures. And Hyunjin never answers one of those questions, but his legendary smirk wnever left his face. It was ever more painful for you to understand that you were nothing but a toy for him. But what did you expect ? To be fully accepted as a sweet person ? Bullshits.

The only time he left you alone was on mornings. That’s why you always ended up in that scary forest near the huge castle you were left. Well, alone was a big word.

Jeongin was following you everywhere. He was Hyunjin’s personal and favorite servant. A strangely gentle and obedient demon. He looked young and pure, his beautiful angular face was surrounded by his dark blue hair. And you found that there were bright shades of red waiting to sparkle in his eyes. He was tall, not as tall as Hyunjin, but tall enough to be impressive.

There was no in between in this world. Demons were either painful to watch or absolutely breathtaking.

You were walking in the dead grass with him next to you, breathing the fresh matinal air. A beautiful black cat presents himself in front of the both of you, rubbing against your legs and purring loudly enough for you to hear.

A smile finally draws on your feature and you kneel to pat his head and scratch his chin. 

“Look, Jeongin ! He wants hugs, poor thing... You’re probably hungry... Jeongin nods, looking straight ahead. But it’s the first time I saw a black cat... Are they common here ? You turn your face to look at him with a smile but still, his mouth stay closed. Hm, yeah, I see... You whisper softly, a little discouraged by his constant silence with you, making you realize that you were really alone here.”

Still without a words, he resumes his walk towards the castle, silently asking you to follow him. And you did, with the cute animal on your step. You were playing with him, walking fast or slow to see if he was still behind you. A laugh escape your mouth seeing the fluffy cat struggling to follow your speed. Not that you were fast but he was a little bit confused.

You bump into someone not on purpose and immediately your blood went icy. Respectfully, and especially cause you were too scared to look at the demon in front of you, you bow your body so low it was almost painful for your back. But you better hurt yourself than being hurted by someone else. Especially in Hell.

“There, there, there... What do we have ? This voice... I knew you were stupid but not to the point of not looking where you are walking. His words were painful but you didn’t move an inch, not wanting to bother him even more. The cat behind you was meowing and if you could you would see the confusion on the man’s face. What’s this ? Jeongin, kill it.”

“No ! No, no ! N-no...? Your voice had suddenly risen to end up being very low. You lift up your chin to finally see Hyunjin in front of you. He was only dressed in a black silk bathrobe embroidered with golden pearls, his long hair was half-tied in a low ponytail and he was holding a glass of wine in his right hand. He... He doesn’t mean you any harm, Sir... He just wants a friend...? His laugh was cold and heartless and he was scanning your body up and down with his piercing eyes.”

Suddenly, you felt a cold sticky liquid running through your face and you just understood that he literally threw the wine in your face. Your lips were parted in shock and that’s the moment you could hear vicious laughs behind him. Of course, Lucifer’s son always need his public. He drops the glass on the ground, glass shattering into thousands of pieces near your feet. 

Hyunjin grabs the back of your neck, bringing your face close to his. Close enough to let his tongue slowly lick your cheek wet with wine.

“Remember when we first met, angel... What did I say ? A lot of things, actually. But you didn’t answer and he grab a handful of your hair.”

“That you wanted me ! A-and... That I was a mess... That you hated dirty things, Sir... You answer quickly with a shaking voice. He lets go of your face abruptly with a wide smile, nodding his face.”

“Yeah that’s it ! And what did you just make ? He pointed your face nonchalantly, making you whisper A mess with a tiny voice. A fucking mess, I hate it, in the name of Lucifer... I hate it ! His pupils were all black, you couldn’t even see the white in it. And you knew you messed up.”

He was hysterical and the screams, laughs and encouragements from the lower classes encourages him to act even more crazier. He grabs your wrist merciless to the applause of the crowd and he leads the two of you in the part of the castle which belongs to him.

Faster than you would have liked, you were in his room. It was always cold, not welcoming and way too dark for your eyes in need of nothing but sunshine. Hyunjin stayed silent but the creepy smile on his face was enough to makes you shiver in fear.

It was crazy how easily he switched from being insane to quiet.

Once you were in his private bathroom he made you look at you through the big golden mirror in front of the black marble bathtub. And you could see the damage, the deep red liquid running down your face, some strands of your hair are wet and the front of your black lace dress is also ruined with wine. You feel your back burning from his stares, and it’s even more humiliating than your physical condition.

“I think my angel needs to take a bath, don’t you ? You nod slowly, playing nervously with your fingers. What are you waiting for ? Go ahead.”

You look up at him leaning against the door frame, panicked. He raises an eyebrow and you shake your head. No, impossible. You probably misunderstood. Or he misspoke. How can you get naked in front of him ?

“Need some help, maybe ?” 

Still through the mirror you can see him approaching you to stand behind you. Your body was frozen, not that you were afraid, but you were mostly intimidated. Your aura may be a pink pale tone but his own was... Like a dark shade of the deepest blue. The ocean itself is bright compared to what emane from this demon. 

He puts your hair on the right side of your neck to have a full access of the left side one. His breath against your shivering skin was hot, and it probably burns you in the best way. The warmth and the softness of his lips against your skin were painful and you couldn’t help biting your lips and squeezing your eyes.

The inner fight you waged against yourself scared you more. Do you really want to push him away ? Or can’t you wait to be naked for him ?

Slowly, his long fingers trail the curve of your body, from your shoulders, to your waist, your hips, but strangely... Never your intimate parts. And you swear, at that right moment, you needed that more than you could ever imagine. Your body was squirming against his and slowly he grabs your chin with his thumb and forefinger.

“Look at you, angel. You open your eyes to see your back totally glued to his chest, making you blush in an instant. Don’t be shy with me, I told you. I’m your owner, there’s no need to be shy. You couldn’t stop looking at him and when he pushes his thumb against your lips you opened it to take it in your mouth and to start sucking it. He chuckles, nibbling your ear, his hot breath awakening all your senses. So nasty, are you really a child of God ?”

His last sentence makes you shiver. He was right. Did you deserve to be considered pure when you wanted him so badly ?

Hyunjin slowly untie your dress and the unknown feeling of being naked in front of someone was as arousing as scaring. Only his sharp eyes was touching you. As usual, he was looking at every details of your body and you can tell how badly he restrains himself to not put his hands all over your frame.

Why was he even nice ? He was almost hysteric few minutes ago. But the answer was evident... He was a demon, after all. They don’t need an excuse to act like crazy.

You didn’t move, looking shamefully at your body for reacting to every ones of his caresses, looks and words.

He takes you out of your mind, grabbing your wrist to lead you in the bathtub, hot smoke escaping from it due to the water. You put your body in it and you look at him undressing. He was as naked at you. His body was slim, his thighs and abdomen were muscular, his body was sculpted by the the God himself. 

How funny is it to think that when he’s the son of Lucifer himself.

It doesn't take long for him to join you, placing his body behind yours. You didn’t know if it was because of the water relaxing all of your nerves, or his strangely calm aura, but you felt good. Hyunjin grabs your shoulders to make your body leans against his, slipping his wet hands on your face to clean your features from the liquid that he himself threw at you. 

A little sigh escape your mouth and you allow yourself to pretend that you’re not in Hell. That you’re in your own room with all your green indoor plants surrouding you. You even have the impression that your favorite sugary smell is all over you, and you can even feel Felix scratching you neck and chin cause he knows how much you like that.

Wait... But you’re not in your room. And there’s no Felix.

Hyunjin started to kisses your neck slowly, licking your skin with the tip of his tongue, making you moan unintentionally. You open your eyes, ashamed of how pathetic you melt in the hand of the one and only Demon who can controls you. He probably feels your body tense and he starts to draw some invisible circles against your tummy.

“It’s funny how I want to protect you and ruin you at the same time. You bite your lips, gulping slowly just imagining the two situations. Yeah, it’s funny. How I want to take care of you, kiss you everywhere, makes you feel good. His words are accompanied by gentle caresses, he brushes your boobs with his fingertips, making you shiver and squirm against him. Even if he was behind you you can feel his gaze on your naked body exposed to him. How I want to hurt you in the goodest way, makes you beg and cry. He pinches one of your already hard nipple with two of his fingers and again, you moan softly. Isn’t it supposed to hurt ? Then why does it feels good ?”

He chuckles when he hear your voice, rubbing now your two buds in his digits. You can’t control your body and the sensation you’re feeling and quickly you came to the conclusion that you want more. You want to feel more, you want that heatness in your body to be more intense, to explode.

The back of your head falls against the crook of his neck and his strong woody smell makes you loose your mind. Hyunjin turns his head to put his forehead against yours while his fingers travel all around you naked figure against him. You can feel him everywhere and nowhere, it's like he can touch your whole body at the same time.

“Don’t stop looking at me. He whispers in a low voice, his eyes fixed on yours.”

You nod slowly even tho it’s difficult for you to stay focused when one of his hands glides along your exposed pubis. His other hand is still firmly gripped to your boob, massaging it in both a soft and harsh way. It was his power. To be gentle and rough.

Instinctively you open your legs. More, more, more. That’s all you can think about right now. And it seems that he exactly understand what you want. More. His long fingers run through your womanhood, wet because of the water, but not only. You can feel how burning it is, how good it feels when he slides them against your two intimates lips. More. You try to keep your eyes open as much as possible to not break the intense contact you’re sharing. A little oh escape your lips when he circles his fingers around that tiny, little, swollen bud. More, you want more.

“You don’t have that in Heaven, uh ? You never felt that good, did you ? You shake your head, half closed eyelids due to everything you’re feeling. That’s the real Heaven, angel.”

His wide black dilated pupils were magneficient, you couldn’t even think of looking away. He continues to rubs your most sensitive area and the hot water just help everything to be more soother and slicker. He teases your nipple, kissing the tip of your nose with a smirk drawns on his beautiful lips and you start to buck your hips up to feel more of the frictions he was offering to you. Slowly, you grip his wrist to push his hands even more against your intimate area. He chuckles, again, at your eagerness and soft moans crash on his lips when he taps your pussy. It was tickling, weird, but oh so good at the same time.

Slowly he grabs your waist to turn your body around so that you are facing him. And it’s even more intimidating to see Hyunjin with his eyes totally lost in the luxurious world. Almost automatically you stick your body to him, surrounding his waist with your legs.

If only you know that doing that made your pussy crash against his, you can really feel it, hard and pretty long dick. Your cheeks were now probably a bright tint of red. And you can see that he wasn’t in a better state.

“S-sorry ! I didn’t meant to do that, Sir !”

“Don’t be sorry, angel. Do it again, can you ? You nod slowly, pressing your two hands on his shoulders to give you a little bit of support. You move your hips slowly against his body, his hard-on hitting your core everytime you moved. Yeah, just like that, keep going... How does it feel ?”

Your only answer was to nod again and bite your lips. It felt too good to be real. Your two bodies stick together were hot and you swear, the burning flames in Hell wasn’t as hot as you. One of Hyunjin’s hand was grabbing your waist to help you move and grind above him while the other one found their way to your exposing neck. 

All of your body was covered with shivers and you didn’t know if the cause was his eyes on you, his hands gripping your throat without squeezing it, or your core sticking and rubbing on his rosy tip. 

“You’re mine. You can hear his hoarse voice whispering in your ear as he still grab your throat in a possessive way while his hand on your waist tighten it firmly. You’re mine. I choose you not only cause I know you were obedient... His hips buck up into yours, making the both of you crash your crotch together in a moaning symphony. Because I knew you were going to love it a lot more than you should.”

You felt light-headed for a moment. Hyunjin’s words was arousing, making you feel like the dirtiest angel. And it was too much. Too much new sensations for your body. The knot in your stomach were growing to the point that it was consuming you so you speed your own pace, helped by his hands, his breath, his moans, even his praises “pretty, hot, good girl” were the only words you were focused on. You felt enveloped by your devastating orgasm, your face leans back and a silent moan escapes your parted lips. It was difficult for you to keep your eyes open, your bordy starts to shake against his and you scratch his shoulders to hold on to reality. It was insanely good to be on cloud nine, a soft smile draws on your lip as every muscles of your body relaxed and tensed at the same time. 

You feel him chasing his own high, patting his veiny and leaking dick on your swollen and overstimulated bud. You wanted to escape his touch as much as you wanted him to keep doing that delicious feeling.

You let yourself totally go in his arms when the both of you come back down from your high. Hyunjin was as breathless as you and he rubs your back in slow caresses, kissing your temples with a little grin.

“I bet Felix never made you feel that way. You frowned your eyebrows, why was he talking about Felix now ? You lift your face to look up at him in a confused way. Oh, you probably didn’t know... You shake your head slowly. He was my servant. You both have the same disgusting sugary smell. ”

Your jaws dropped and you blink your eyes. Felix, the purest heart you have ever known was once... A demon ?

—————————————☠︎︎ —————————————

    ━ TAGLIST ; @sailorhyunjinz - @minholuvs - @that-anxious-bisexual - @ohmysparkle - @yuminsung - @minaamhh - @kittykatvenom - @bubblelixie - @imagineinnie - @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot - @etherealeeknow - @linours - @starry-jinnie @p0t4t0don14ll - @straytannies - @binnie-m00n - @formidxble - @skzcvre - @titleisyettobemade - @bythesunnotbythemoon - @nada-disso - @characha - @lizsvcks - @pxnidxjks - @ninjaleeknow - @solistired - @keloiu - @staaaaaa - @journalskz - @bubbl3gunz - @tinyminari - @hyuneytoast - @s4ilor-m4rs (if you want to be added to the taglist feel free to send me an ask!)

[embrassemoi]

𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬

Pairings: Sirius B, F!Reader, Remus L    Content: swearing, angst, no proofreading, filler? A/N: i hope your week has been great so far xx

【 Masterlist | Previous Chapter | ao3 】

Chapter 35 ✷ Picture’s Up

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James couldn't recall a time where he felt so drained.

He didn’t even think there was a word to encapsulate just how drained he really felt. Every day, there was a wariness that sunk and immersed itself so deeply within his bones that made it feel like he could hardly breathe.

Day by day, it felt like a part of his sanity was cracking.

Enervated, drowsy, exhausted, knackered, dead on his own two feet… he could go on.

Prefect duties were as dreadful as Remus had said they were and James regretted every time he ever made fun of him for it. It was miserable and karma never hit him harder. Monitoring detentions and rounds were tedious, the tests he had to grade were mind-numbingly boring; all forcing him to lose the little sleep he had.

And then there were the loads of Quidditch practices that once were fun, a way for him to exert his remarkable supply of energy, only became a bit of a nuisance with the overwhelming activities he was forced to juggle.

Working around Moony’s moon cycle...

And then there was the fucking Black family.

The mere mention of their names sent James into a spiral. He’d rather submerge himself into the Black lake and let the giant squid ink all over him than deal with them. But there he was.

He debated for a while, whether or not to tell Black about Regulus but refrained. He was far too stubborn to listen and could make matters worse.

James sighed, leaning into the couch in the common room, running his fingers through his hair.

“Potter.” The ring of Lily’s voice sounded through his ears. James turned around to look at her, feeling his heart accelerate.

“Evans,” he greeted.

“We have rounds in a bit. Don’t be late.”

James simply nodded, not having enough energy to put on a front.

And of course Lily noticed. She noticed his frazzled appearance and lack of energy. There was hardly any banter between them and Lily would’ve thought it was a miracle that his annoying self had vanished, replaced with timorous energy. But if anything, it was disquieting.

She bit the inside of her cheek, forcing out, “Hey, you alright?”

He gave a little audible sound in response. “Yeah. I’ll be there. I just need to make a few arrangements quickly. Meet you by the... Prefects’ bathroom?”

Lily considered him.

“... See you.”

James made his way out of the common room, slipping out the Marauder’s Map. He’d been tracking Regulus’ movements for the past few days now and the only person he went to was Y/N for any substantial amount of time.

He truly had no one else and it ruled out any potential bullying.

Walburga and Orion… Their treatment towards him shocked James. Golden boy Regulus, who would’ve thought?

But even with the Marauder’s Map, it was impossible to keep track of him. He never stayed in one spot long enough to catch, aside from the dungeons and Slytherin common room.

Everything regarding Regulus’ situation forced James to think strenuously. If he were to accidentally say too much of what Whiskers had told him, not only would Regulus close himself off to him, but to her too, leaving them with no clue of his well-being.

And it forced him to worry about Whiskers. She didn’t know what she's getting herself into… What if Walburga and Orion caught word of their friendship?

James shuddered, pushing away the thought. He didn’t want to think about what would happen to either of them.

He continued to watch Regulus’ name travel across the map before ascertaining he was close. He tapped on the map, muttering out ‘Mischief managed’ whilst bolting down the hallways. Each twist and turn exhilarated a nervous adrenaline thumping through his veins as he rehearsed a little speech inside his head.

Before Regulus had time to process what was happening, James had already yanked him back, disappearing into one of the secret passageways.

“What the — Potter?!” He squawked. Pushing him away, James saw the pure panic washed over his features through the shadows.

“I know we don’t have much time,” James rushed, “But hear me out.”

He made no attempt to move but looked around for other students.

“You’ll always have a home with me,” James said easily as if it was the most obvious answer. “With Bla — Sirius — living with me, you’re more than welcome to as well. I understand your situation and —”

“No,” Regulus leered, “I can’t.”

“You can’t or you won’t?” James challenged before easing up. “My family and I are more than willing to protect you, like how we’ve been doing for Sirius.”

And then it stayed silent for a while and he finally let himself take in his appearance.

“Regulus, what happened to you?”

Regulus’ head hung. “All I wanted was to have long hair.”

And then it clicked for James, but he was running out of things to say that were convincing and felt a familiar panic return.

“You miss him, right?” He tried. “I know he misses you. If maybe —”

But when Regulus’ mood suddenly changed, James knew instantly that he had miscalculated.

“Miss me?” Regulus laughed bitterly. “He doesn’t miss me and he has never considered me his brother. You, Lupin, Pettigrew — you’re his brothers.”

He could see the misty tears welding up in Regulus’ eyes and didn’t make a move to stop him when he stormed out from the passageway.

Once Regulus was free from James, he sprinted, blinking multiple times to prevent tears from seeping out. An ache burned inside his chest as he found himself diving into his bed, pulling the curtains shut.

Those unforgettable questions that plagued his mind for a year now played heavily in his mind, like his own personal film.

What made someone good or bad? What did he believe in? Was he strong enough to break from his mould or did he want to? And most importantly, what was he willing to do?

Blood purity…

Regulus closed his eyes. He wished life was a dress rehearsal and there were times to make mistakes and have do-overs without permanent repercussions. To get time to practice and refine life until he explored every avenue. Unfortunately, life had no room for anything but the final performance. Every stumble, every mishap or memory slip was presented to a live audience day by day.

Reopening his eyes, he had his answer.

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A few weeks went by and September was coming to a close. October came with beautiful colours and a chilly breeze.

It felt like every day, Y/N added another reason to be disgruntled and hateful onto her list. It had been a month since she’d last seen her mother and she refrained from sending any letters; waiting patiently to see if she would make the first move.

Nothing.

It was safe to say that it put her into a bad mood that morning.

The walk to Defence Against the Dark Arts with Lily was a quiet one and slightly uncomfortable. However, the uncomfortable bit was more on Lily’s end rather than Y/N who was too wrapped in her anger-induced thoughts.

These days, their lessons were almost exclusively in the Duelling room, filled with practical lessons. Especially today, she was beyond thankful for; eager to have an outlet.

But Professor Elway was unusually keen on inviting her to the Duelling sessions. She was almost as difficult as dodging Slughorn’s Slugclub invites. Luckily, Y/N liked Elway and duelling was electrifying. Even potion making, no matter how much she enjoyed it, was lengthy and mundane.

Mentioning their professor, she wasn’t there that morning when they arrived outside the Duelling room. The students lounged outside the door, taking out their books and wand while they waited.

Remus found himself drifting to her as they quietly chatted away.

“Like your sweater,” she said. In the background, she could hear Marlene and James yelling, “It’s a jumper!”

Remus smiled. “This old thing?” Pointing to the sweater that she knitted. They both giggled a bit; Remus leaned slightly against her, eyes lingering a beat.

“Sorry, I’m late!” Elway called out to them in a dreamy voice. “Everyone, follow me!”

Puzzled, the class looked at each other as they followed their professor away from the dungeons. While they walked, rude and unbearable, Peeves the Poltergeist floated upside down. Once he spotted Remus, he immediately drifted up to him, opening his mouth, no doubt about to hurl all sorts of names or songs at him.

Remus hardly looked at him, already taking out his wand and said lazily, “Waddiwasi!” at Peeves.

A wad of gum shot out from nowhere and landed directly on Peeves before he whirled back from Remus, spewing curses at him.

“Nice one! Ought to teach me that later!” “Almost feel bad for the bloke!” Both James and Peter said at the same time.

Elway had led them outside to a desolate area, free from a canopy of branches and leaves.

“Now, my pupils!” She sang. “You might be wondering, ‘what are we doing out here?’ Lucky for you, we’re going to be practicing a few spells and learning how to fight using other means during duels.”

Like most of the class, Emmeline was ​skeptical as she raised her hand. “I thought we weren’t supposed to use physical means during duels?”

“Precisely,” said Elway, walking back and forth in front of the class. “Couldn't have said it better myself. But you know who won’t give a damn?”

There was a long pause for effect.

“Your enemies.” She clapped her hands together. “Now, can anyone give us some ideas? How about… Miss L/N?”

Blinking a few times, she hesitated, not expecting to be called on. “Er — you can… take them from the legs?”

“Wonderful idea! I’m thrilled you said that! Does anyone else want to add on?”

Remus raised his hand, answering politely. “Using your arms — stretching them.”

Professor Elway nodded away happily. “Wonderful answer! Take five points! Like Remus said, stretching your arms out or boarding your shoulders, spacing out your legs can widen your defence range! Why don’t we try?”

She called Remus up first and Y/N could tell he was slightly nervous. He doubled down, making himself seem smaller by hunching over and made sure not to accidentally hurt their professor.

A couple of Hufflepuffs, Slytherins and then James, Marlene and Lily all tried; mimicking Elway as she let them knock her over.

“Most importantly,” Elway said, dusting off her robes free from leaves and dirt. She panted a bit, tired from being knocked down multiple times. “Never let the enemy strike first. You all did fantastically!

“Obviously, in any professional setting, you’ll be disqualified if you ever tried to physically attack your opponent. But you can still play dirty in a duel!

“The charm Obscuro has been helpful on several occasions. It blindfolds your opponent. Please repeat after me: Ob-SKOO-roh!”

“Obscuro!”

“Excellent!” Elway gave a little applause, filled with glee. “Another spell that I love is the Confundus charm. Y/N! May you please explain to us the purpose of the Confundus charm?”

“She’s calling on you an awful lot,” Lily muttered.

She nodded a bit. “It confuses your oppent. The varying degree depends on how much magic is put into the initial casting.”

“Perfect! Five points to Gryffindor. If you will tell me about Incendio.”

As she spoke, there was almost a switch that went off in Elway that made her incessantly happy that almost unnerved her.

“Beautiful! Now if you may, help demonstrate the spell?”

“I don’t want to hurt —”

“Trust me, you won’t.”

Then, Y/N felt a deep lurch of fear as everyone retreated against the trees, giving her a clear view of Professor Elway opposed to her, waiting to block her spell.

She took a deep breath in, pushing up the sleeves of her robes, she held her wand.

Professor Elway had a protective spell around her. “One, two, three — now!”

“Incendio!” Only meek sparks shot out of her wand. A few students snickered while her friends were seen trying to drown them out by clapping.

“That was amazing!” Peter called out.

“I wouldn’t be able to do that on the first go!” Marlene shouted.

“That was good! Try again! One, two, three — go!”

“Incendio!” Nothing noteworthy happened. It was embarrassing.

“It’s alright, try again!” Elway said, not letting her go yet. “Think about something that’s motivating!”

Y/N closed her eyes, inhaling deeply and pondered. What was motivating to her? Surely, the want to continue with magic after school was motivating. Or perhaps proving someone wrong?

Proving someone wrong…

She had a lot to prove to her mother.

Instead of her being motivated, a flicker of annoyance and anger flooded her instead. Sensing the change, Elway beamed, her wand held high.

“One —”

Her mother always prioritized everyone and everything above her —

“Two —”

Was never there when it mattered —

“Three —”

There was never much affection. The constant want to please, the low self-esteem made her feel worthless, unloveable, always wanting to run when she got too close — she caused it —

“Now!”

“Incendio!” She bellowed.

A loud crack rippled through the air and caused her to stumble back. A large blast of orange and red flames shot out from her wand. Scorching heat flooded out, causing all the students to jump back as Elway shot waves of water, extinguishing the flames at once. As angry as she had been, glee and pure enjoyment replaced that quickly.

Once the bell rang, the students gathered up their belongings, leaving for their next class. But Elway took a moment, calling out her name, asking that she stay back for a few moments.

James and Lily staggered behind, offering to wait as they talked quietly under one of the willow trees.

They were so civil these days…

“I would’ve offered you a cup of tea,” Elway spoke as she approached her. Her foot tapped against the ground, her eyes far-away, thinking thoughtfully with a sly smirk. “Has anyone told you that you would make for an excellent, excellent duellist?”

Her eyebrows raised and shook her head.

That only prompted her teacher to smirk, in a satisfied sort of way. “You’re exceptionally strong for someone with no experience.”

There was a smug tone to Elway’s voice and she couldn’t quite place what she was getting at.

“Did you know that any professional duellist would kill for your wand? Or even the slight edge you have against them with your talent?”

“Erm… no?” Y/N said. She wondered if Elway needed glasses because surely, she wasn’t referring to herself. “Professor… are you sure you’re talking to the right student?”

She laughed so hard that she had to clutch her stomach tightly. She ignored her question. “My dear, do you have any ideas of what you want to be when you’re older?”

“Not really.”

“I have a proposition for you,” she beamed, flicking her long blonde, almost silver hair out of the way. “Let me take you under my wing, make you into a proper duellist.”

Y/N blinked. She didn’t know what to say and stood there with her mouth gaped.

“Yes, you heard that correctly.” Professor Elway teased. “I’d love to mentor you.”

She sputtered, positively confused and flustered. “I’m not at the top of the class, I struggle with Charms, I’ve never had a huge interest in it — I don’t know the first thing about duelling!”

“That’s what I’m here for, no? And your skill is exceptional and I know a duellist when I see one. You’ve shown the last few lessons that you’re capable of casting very strong spells.

“And do you know what separates a duellist from the masses? Energy, emotions and power. What changed when I told you to think about something motivating? A powerful Duellist may only be out of sheer power and brunt force, but a well-rounded Duellist listens to every part of their body. Their wand, their heart, the emotions that cause them to fight.”

“But —”

Elway flicked her wrist, mildly interested in her excuses. “Anyway, off to your next lesson. Take some time to think about it,” she smiled, clearly not going to take no for an answer. “I’ll be waiting for when you finally agree.”

Both Lily and James took her arms, hooking it with theirs and walked to Potions. They were staring at her, lost for words at Professor Elway’s proposition.

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“Yes, Pettigrew.” McGonagall scolded rather harshly. “The essay is due on Monday.”

Peter averted his gaze, grumbling out a thank you before exiting her office. “Dunno why she’s so strict with me.”

“She wants the best for you,” James tried to encourage as they all headed back to their common room.

Y/N couldn’t care less as she thought about later that night. No matter how hard she tried, Slughorn wouldn’t take no for an answer and she was almost forced to make an appearance at the Slugclub.

Lily was so excited, running through their dorm as she got ready.

Marlene sulked a bit, folding her arms across her chest. She was quiet enough for Lily not to hear, but Y/N heard her clear as day. “That’s not fair. I want to be invited. I want to feel special too.”

“You’re more than special,” Dorcas cut in, rubbing a hand up and down her shoulder. “You’re a star, baby.”

Y/N ignored them, fiddling with a small tube of eyeliner, watching Lily excitedly going through her closest.

Luckily, not only would Lily be there, but Remus, most likely Regulus — however, she doubted they would be able to interact — and funnily enough, James was invited too.

Inside the actual party was decent, a lot better than she expected. There were still the uptight students who thought they were above others, or the Purebloods that judged her when she walked into the room, but it was bearable.

Y/N chuckled as she watched Remus throwback drink after drink, sneakily stealing a few alcoholic beverages meant for the adults. His movements were so discreet that nobody ever suspected him.

She covered her smile behind her glass.

“Hi. It’s been awhile.”

Y/N turned around, and there, Aldrich McLaggen stood wearing a little smile. He trimmed his blond hair to sweep nicely and his cheekbones hallowed out.

“It has. And congratulations, I heard you’re on the Quidditch team.”

“Yes! Chaser - taking over Bell’s position.”

“So… How are you?”

If it was even possible, Aldrich’s smile grew wide. “I’ll be a lot better if I saw your smile tonight?”

She didn’t smile; unimpressed and decided to sip on her drink.

“Yeah,” Aldrich began again, “Didn’t think that would work.”

“A pretty big miss.” She grumbled.

“But I’m getting to know how to impress you in the future.”

Y/N turned to side-eye him. “Hmm? How?”

“How about -” And out of nowhere, he reached behind her ear and pulled out a red rose, handing it to her. Much like a Muggle magician.

She felt a coy smile tug at her lips and forced it down, but failed. “Nice one.”

“Everyone! Please come down and sit!” Slughorn announced, calling to all the students.

He beamed, flashing his teeth. “Don’t hide away again. I’d love to see you again.”

She tilted her head at him, tilting her glass before making her way to find her spot at the table.

The girl beside her had frizzy light brown hair and large glasses that looked like they were from an animated children’s television program. She was draped in a colourful shawl.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.”

But the other young witch smiled brightly, although never quite meeting her eyes as she outstretched her hand. “Sybill Trelawney.”

She shook Sybill’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

But then Y/N took a good look at her and realized, “We’re in the same charms class, right?”

Sybill nodded her head, fingers tapping rapidly on the table. “For two years now. I sit a row behind you. And by the way, you're very pretty.”

She was taken back, a genuine smile spreading over her lips. “Thank you, you look lovely too! I adore your glasses.”

A light blush spread across Sybill’s face, her hand brushing against her glasses. Her eyes peered up for a second before averting her gaze. Y/N couldn’t help but smile, already enjoying Sybill’s presence.

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【 Next Chapter 】

© gotkindabored 2021. Do not repost or modify

[bohemianrhvps]

Mon amour, puisque tu m'aimes. - G.W.

Summary: George and Fred barely fight but when it happens they might not talk to each other’s for days. After a big fight, George stormed out of the shop and went to muggle London for a walk to calm his nerves. He found himself in one of those old vintage cafes and as he was sitting outside he spot a little flower shop across the street, playing some vintage french songs then he saw her and his heart started trembling.

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, fluff, modern!George and muggle!reader.

note: I love Edith Piaf and vintage songs with all my heart and lately I can’t stop to listen “Hymn à l’amour” by Edith Piaf. Physically the reader is based on me (hope that’s not a big deal). I had this idea because I think that George would definitely fall for a muggle, he finds them fascinating just like his father.

‘How dare he say something like that? How dare Fred tell me that my job is not enough and I need to focus more?’

George was furious, he and his brother Fred just had one of their biggest fight ever. He stormed of the shop that he and his brother owned leaving a furious Fred and a confused Ron behind him. He went straight to the Leaky Cauldron and entered muggle London crowded streets. It was early evening and almost everyone was going home after a long day at work.

He decided to calm down his nerves and take a walk around London’s little alleys. His mind was full of thoughts, he was thinking about the words he and his twin brother said to each other’s, angry words that it doesn’t matter that they were said impulsively they still hurt.

After a while he found himself in a little street, less crowded, one of those roads that seemed like those roads in small country villages. A little vintage cafes caught his eyes and he decided that he needed a coffee, even if he didn’t enjoyed his flavour. After ordering, paying and picked up his coffee, he went out to sit in one of those two-seater tables outside the cafes.

Vintage french musics draw his attention, making him stand up and look around trying to figure out where it came from. His eyes landed on this little flower shop on the street corner so he crossed the street and walk towards it. He was never a big fan of Herbology at Hogwarts or plants in general but he was fascinated by these plants, he also saw lemon trees and they were so yellow and so beautiful and their smell was magnificent and he wondered how could they be so beautiful, they were simple and common plants but they were the most beautiful he had ever seen.

Y/n was watering the tulips inside her little shop, humming that old french song that she put in her “oldies” playlist when she spotted this tall red haired man outside her shop, looking at her plants almost suspiciously and she wondered what he was thinking about.

“Did you know that talking to plants makes them grow better?” she calmly said leaning on the front door, still holding the watering can with both hands.

“Is that the secret to having such beautiful plants?” George said turning fully around.

When they met each other’s eyes they remained silent for a couple of minutes. She was mesmerised by his features, he was indeed handsome and his hair was a fiery shade of orange. On the other hand he was mesmerised by her looks, he found her particular, almost weird but she was absolutely dazzling. She had short brown hair, her haircut right under the ear, that perfectly framed her round face. She was wearing a white flannel shirt and a pair of beige flannel pants and the first buttons of her shirt were open. She was at least one foot lower than George, she wasn’t skinny, her waist was slightly narrower than her hips that widened, highlighting her fleshy thighs. And George, being the thighs man he is, had to refrain from staring too long. She was so simple yet so particular and captivating.

“So you like my plants, ay?” she said smiling and putting the watering can on the side.

“I’m not a big fan of flowers and plants but I have to admit that your plants look very tempting.”

‘You are very temping. No wait- George what the heck. Calm down your hormones, mate’ he mentally cursed himself for thinking such things about her.

“If my plants are tempting let me show you something then.” She laughed and went inside her shop, shouting a muffled “Come in” waiting for him to follow her. After having rummaged among the various plants she came back to George with a little succulent in her hands.

“This is a little Echeveria elegans, which is a succulent plant.” she smiled placing the plant on the counter.

George found himself entering the shop and looking around it, it was much smaller than his but it was lovely, full of colours and aromas. He looked at the plant she brought with her and raised his eyebrows, wondering why she took that plant.

“I want to give you this plant.” Her smile was so big that he sweared her skin was going to break. He panicked because he didn’t know how to pay that plant sure he had money with him but muggle money is different from Galleons. He opened his jacket to get his wallet but her hand stopped him.

“No, it’s a gift.” her hand was still on his forearm and he couldn’t help but smile at the contact.

“Forgive my rudeness for not introducing myself sooner but I’m (y/n).” her hand stretched out waiting for George to hold it.

“I’m George and it’s very nice meeting you.” he smiled softly at her, making her blush. She couldn’t help but think about how handsome and charming he was.

“You’re new around here, right? I’ve never seen your face before.” and what a beautiful face she may add.

“No actually I found myself in this street after a long walk and had a coffee in that lovely cafes I want to add that I think I’m going back because that coffe was amazing and I usually don’t drink or like coffe. Anyway I own a shop with my twin brother.” he was babbling but Oh Merlin she made him so nervous.

“Oh yeah? And where is this shop?” the way her brow frowned over in curiosity was adorable.

“Oh it’s across town actually, yeah” his initial enthusiasm had now disappeared.

George looked at his watch and realised that it was almost dinner time and tonight he was supposed to cook for him and Fred.

“I’m sorry but I really need to go now, I guess I’ll see you around then.” he said making his way out of the shop.

“I’ll wait for you to come back here again then.” she smiled at him. The sunset made the whole situation looking like one of those romantic muggle movies his parents made him watch.

He waved his hand at her and walked towards the Leaky Cauldron with the biggest smile on his face and this little plant on his huge hands, he felt like Neville back in Hogwarts.

*The next day*

“Good morning Dear (Y/n)”

“Good morning Margaret”

“Oh you’re wearing a dress and you’re in a good mood today. The usual, love?” (Y/n) simply laughed at the old and lovely woman that owned the cafe and nodded at her question.

“Can I ask you something?” she said sipping her hot cappuccino.

“Anything dear” Margaret smiled at her.

“Did a tall red-haired guy come in here yesterday?” she tried not to look very hopeful.

“How could I forget him? He had this fiery red hair, this purple suit and he was so tall. Is he your boyfriend?” same old nosey Margaret.

“What? No no” she blushed laughing nervously.

“Oh, okay then.” Margaret simply shrugged.

“If he comes again I offer everything he orders.” she smiled and hurried to open her flower shop.

**

“I don’t know why but she was capable of making me nervous. Me? George Fabian Weasley nervous in front of a girl? She’s beautiful though, very particular may I add. Anyway I’ll probably visit her again tod-“

“George who the fuck are you talking to?” Fred came out of his room hearing George talking to a plant?

“Oh Fred ehm nothing, I mean no one” he laughed nervously scratching his neck.

“Do you remember that we have lunch at the Burrow right? Ron and Hermione wants to tell us something.” Fred began to have breakfast as if nothing had happened.

“Alright but I have to go now” George rushed down the stairs, making his way to (Y/n)’s flower shop.

He stopped at the cafes and just as he was about to pay, Margaret stopped him.

“(Y/n) offers” she winked at him. His brows furred but he cracked a smile.

“What’s your name, dear?”

“George” he said before leaving the cafes and run towards her shop.

While he was sipping his coffe, he stayed outside waiting for her clients to leave but admiring her. She was radiant today, she was wearing a yellow long flower dress, with long sleeves balloon and she curled her hair a bit. ‘How cool, they seem shorter’ he thought.

“You know you didn’t have to, right?” he said raising his coffee as soon she was alone in the shop.

“I know, but I wanted to.” everything about her was simply adorable.

He looked around and he found these beautiful and aromatic lilies.

“Just her favourites.” he whispered to himself but (Y/n) heard that and she felt her heart clenched a bit and she didn’t know why.

“Can I have a few of these?” he turned her way.

She took the lilies and made a lovely bouquet, she didn’t want to be nosey but..

“Are these for your girlfriend?” she said tying the boquet with a pink ribbon.

“My girlfr- no no, these are for my mom.” he answered almost too quickly. “We have a family lunch, my brother and his wife want to tell us something. I’m wondering what it is.” again he was babbling and tell her things that she probably didn’t want to hear.

“Maybe she’s pregnant, I don’t know.” she answered giggling. He was going to pay but again she stopped him, shaking her head with a simple smile.

“Let me know if your mum liked them.” she waved her hand and again George found himself with the biggest smile of his face.

**

“Merlin’s beard George, they’re beautiful.” Molly was thrilled when she saw the lilies. “(Y/n)’s flawless flowers.. never saw it in Diagon Alley, is it a new shop?”

“Actually mom it’s a shop in muggle London, yeah.” he scratched the back of his neck, blushing a little.

“And tell me, what's she like? Big tits? Big ass?” Fred whispered pushing his shoulder a bit.

“Big tit- Fred what the hell?” he scolded at his twin brother.

“Boys behave we have an announcement!” Ron said clapping his hands drawing everybody’s attention on him and Hermione.

“I’m pregnant.” Hermione said with a big smile on her face.

“(Y/n), how did you know..” George whispered to himself while clapping his hands at the happy couple.

“Were you talking to me?” asked Fred smirking, acting like he didn’t heard George’s exact words.

**

It was Monday morning and it was also (Y/n)’s day off so she decided to walk around London and look for George’s shop, she wanted to surprise him. It took her almost the whole morning but she hadn’t seen his shop, he told her that outside his shop there were a huge statue that looked like him so it was impossible to miss. It was around noon and she decided to go visit her grandmother and her flower shop. The only thing was that her grandmother was a witch and her flower shop was in Diagon Alley so she made her way through the Leaky Cauldron and entered Diagon Alley. It has been a while since she was in the wizard world but she knew exactly how to act. Just around the corner she spotted an unfamiliar shop.

Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.

The moment she saw the statue she instantly froze. She recognised it and the shop was exactly like George described it. She decided to enter and look around.

The inside of the shop was simply beautiful, so full of colours and people and she was simply enchanted. She spotted a familiar tall ginger man and she made her way to him.

“George?” she tapped his shoulder.

“Wrong one, love. I’m Fred.” he said turning around to greet her. She smiled at him as she instantly recognised him as George’s twin brother.

“And you are?” he raised his eyebrows.

“(Y/n), I’m (Y/n).” she reached out to him.

“Oooh” Fred said with a cheeky grin. “(Y/n)’s flawless flowers, right?” he squeezed her hand.

“Oì, stop flirting with our costumers and come to h-“ he froze. He was panicking when he saw her. And now what? What is he supposed to do? What is he supposed to say?

“(Y/n) hi, w-what are you doing here?” his palms were sweating so hard he hoped you wouldn’t notice.

“Your shop is literally magical.” she ignored his questions as she giggled looking around George’s shop. “My grandmother is a witch, she owns a flower shop here in Diagon Alley, so here I am.” she said raising her hands.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you” he was really sorry because he really like her, he didn’t know if he liked her as a friend or more but he sure enjoyed her company.

“Oh it’s okay, I can imagine it’s not easy telling someone you’re a wizard” her laugh was lovely.

“So, can I have the honor of showing you around the store?” he asked her extending his arm which she gladly accepted.

“Y/n guess what... Hermione’s pregnant.” he said super excited.

“I told you!” she said jumping a little making George smile like a five years old.

George turned around to his brother who was looking at them smiling. Fred knew his brother and he knew that George fell for her, even before George himself knew that.

note: I’m thinking of making this a mini series, divide it into three maybe four parts (reader meeting the Weasleys and maybe add some smut lol). Let me know if you liked it and if you want me to continue it.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The General (part 3): Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: Things are explained, and you’re taken by surprise more than once. 

wc: 2.7k

tw: none

masterlist

Moonlight streams into the tent from a gash in the fabric above, illuminating your captor as he sleeps in the massive bed built for a giant or two. You, however, lay on the ground beside the bed, eyes glued to the sleeping general in spite.

Geto had yet again embarrassed you at dinner, making you kneel on the floor next to his chair instead of taking your place at the table. His kinsmen had laughed at you under their breath, and when he began to feed you from his plate by handing you pieces of food from his hand, that had completely annihilated any piece of pride you had left. Gojo made a joke about you being a beautiful, albeit begrudgingly obedient puppy which earned him a round of riotous laughter. It took all you had not to burst into tears right there.

And when the General got tipsy and began to pet your hair with a fondness you could only describe as possession, you felt even more defeated. 

But now it was all over. You were alone with him once more, trapped - even on the ground - and unable to leave. You were physically unrestrained - because where could you go when the camp stretched on for miles? - but the entrapment was mental. Nothing like this had ever crossed your mind when you considered your future. It all rested on Yuko’s shoulders not two da--

Yuko. 

What had that one soldier mentioned? 

“Is she really as beautiful as Yuko said?” 

Yuko. 

The idea that he had anything to do with this encounter would have been absurd to you, except… now, it wasn’t. 

When you gasp and sit up abruptly, Geto cracks open an eye and his hand shoots out to grab the neck of your kimono. “Easy there, little one.” But when he sees your tears, his features go from scrutiny to a softer gaze, and his hand releases from your kimono and flops to the side of the bed. 

“Why am I here?” you whisper, wiping your nose. “What am I to you?” 

“You’re here because I want you here,” Geto replies, sitting up fully and letting the sheets slide down his perfect frame.

“Why me?” 

“You were headed to the Imperial Court. Like I said, it’s a hellish life there. You should thank me, really. If we hadn’t gotten to you befo--” 

“What does Yuko have to do with any of this?” As soon as you mention Yuko, the atmosphere in the room changes from careful and concerned to an inquisition. Geto places his feet on the floor, eyes glued to your tear-stained face as he stands and then crouches in front of you. His hand drifts to your cheek, rubbing away a fresh tear before a thumb is smoothed over your dry lips.

“I almost forgot… you were close to him, weren’t you?” You neither confirm nor deny the accusations by remaining dreadfully still, eyes locked with the man in front of you. “Your silence confirms this.” Geto stands again, moving past you before lighting a few lanterns and then walking around you much like the previous night. 

“I have eyes everywhere, little one. When I heard that the Imperial Matchmaker was headed around the country, I made sure of two things: one, that she would conveniently look for a common girl to wed to a Prince, and two, that she would be from one of the towns where my eyes were.” 

‘My eyes’… Yuko is a… traitor?

“You see,” Geto leans down to brush his lips against your ear as his hair tickles your shoulder. “I’ve been waiting for a moment like this ever since I was denied my rightful place in line for the throne, and I’ve tried everything to get it back.” A shiver runs down your spine at his admission, and you crane your head up to look at him in shock, fearing the next words out of his mouth. His onyx eyes are crazed, almost feral with ambition. “Well, that is… except start a war. And what better way to begin one than over a stolen princess-to-be?” 

_______________________________________________________________________

When Kaori enters the tent later on that morning, you’ve made up your mind. The eater of curses made it very clear that you were a pawn in his bid to usurp the Imperial Throne, and he also reiterated that escape was absolutely impossible. You were being watched by eyes you couldn’t see, listened to by ears you couldn’t deafen, and talked about by mouths you couldn’t shut. 

But there was one thing you could do. 

As the woman tends to your bruised knees, you examine her tools. 

“Do you have something that I could use to mend my old gown? And do you know where it went?” Kaori looks up at you, her brown hair falling behind her ears as her face contorts into a confused expression.

“Your old dress is gone, my Lady.” 

“It is?” 

“Sent downriver to the nearest village and made to look like you had been killed.” The news of your faked death is alarming, to say the least. 

“You mean I’m--” 

“Like most captives, you will no longer be searched for.” How many others had this happened to? 

“I-” 

“And I know what you’re thinking, Lady y/n. I am not permitted any sharp tools aside from what I am allowed to use in the hot springs with the other ladies, but they are not sharp enough to take a life. I am sure Master Geto will allow you to join us one day, though.” 

“H-how many women has he had before me?” Kaori looks up at you again; her eyes cold and unforgiving. 

“Only one, and she almost ruined him.” Her hands return to your calf, massaging the muscle carefully. “But that will never happen again. That we will all make sure of.” 

Another blue kimono, another morning spent alone until lunch had been brought to you. You now roam around the camp, followed closely by Kaori and another young woman you don’t know yet. As you bite into the pear in your hand, you try to catch bits and pieces of their chatter, but you lose the noise as soon as you encounter something new - which is every three seconds. Out of all of the women you see - most young women probably not above the age of twenty-nine - none of them wear blue kimonos. They’re either in red or green, perhaps signifying rank or job. But in all of the days you’ve seen Kaori, she’s dressed in multiple different colors, all except blue. 

You wonder what that means for a moment before you chance upon a large, open field full of men practicing their swordsmanship and hand-to-hand combat. You’re standing on a high part of a hill just before it slopes downward to where they are sparring. As your eyes scan the crowd from above, you look for your long-haired captor, and you cannot find him until a hand points over your shoulder. 

“You see that ring there?” The other woman speaks, and your eyes instantly hone in on a ring of men huddled around two figures fighting. “Master Geto and Master Gojo fight there all the time.” 

“Who wins?” you wonder, looking back at the giggling maid. 

“Which way will the wind blow tomorrow?” she answers, and at your confused expression, Kaori steps in.

“Some days it is Master Geto. Other days it is Master Gojo. We can never tell until the spar has ended and the dust has settled.” Your eyes turn back to the men in the circle, and you see a long stream of jet black hair and then long white hair, but they’re moving much too fast for you to be able to discern their movements. 

“They won’t be done for a while,” The other maid adds, and places a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sure Master Geto will come find you when he’s ready to… unwind.” The giggles at this comment do nothing for your nerves. 

_______________________________________________________________________

The General returns to the tent after a few hours, cuts and bruises dotting his half-clothed physique. You eye him carefully as he stalks past you on the bed, followed by a male attendant who rushes to help him undress and take a bath on the other side of the curtain. 

He’s silent as the water sloshes around, and you can barely make out any other noises besides the occasional hiss of pain or deep exhale. It’s obvious that the man who attends to his wounds did his job properly when Geto emerges with only a bandage on his right side, blood dotting the cloth taped to his ribs. 

“Scoot over,” Geto waves his hand at you, flopping onto the space you’ve made with barely so much as a ‘thank you’.

“Did you win?” you inquire and Geto looks over at you before touching his arms behind his head and giving you a toothy grin. 

“Of course I did.” You both lapse into another silence before Geto clears his throat and slides a hand from under his head and onto your back. “You went to see us train… I’m surprised you’d be interested in that.” 

“I was walking around and happened to observe the melee.” 

“Kaori told you about how our fights end, then.” 

“She and her companion didn’t add much to the already obvious; you two spar well.” 

“Do you fight, little one?” he asks innocently. You give him a look and that’s all he needs to see to know that the answer is ‘no’. “I should teach you to fight, then.”

“Why, so I can fight you and then run away after I win against you?” you retort, and Geto laughs suddenly, clutching at his injured side. 

“I didn’t say I would teach you how to beat me, I just said ‘to fight’,” he chokes out, wiping away the tears that dot his bottom eyelid. “You have a very interesting sense of humor.”

“It keeps me alive,” you mumble and you feel the hand on your back run up and down your spine. While the comforting gesture is kind in nature, it makes your skin crawl that someone so evil could touch anyone in an affectionate way. 

“Did Yuko ever touch you like this?” At this question, you look over at the man who spoke, eyes blazing. 

“He would never,” you snarl.  

“Smart man,” Geto grumbles, sitting up; now placing his hand on your leg. “I told him not to touch my things. He learned that lesson as a child and it seems it has carried over well.” 

“I’m your thing, now?” You snatch your body away from his grip and climb off the bed, shuffling to the far side of the tent to be alone. “You know, when people get pets, they at least give them something to play with and keep them busy during the day.”

“You want something to play with?” Geto moves off of the bed and raises a brow, fingering the waistband of his pants thoughtfully. “That can be arranged.” Fear leaps into your throat even though the man doesn’t move a single inch closer to you. You swallow hard, then Geto speaks, running his hands through his hair exasperatedly. “When I imagined taking a woman, it did not seem as hard as it actually is. Besides the frustrating part, you vex me entirely in areas I have never been tried in. I’m trying to keep you pure, so when this is over and I can release you to your hometown and you’ll be free to do as you please… but little one, you make it hard for me to control myself when you act this way.”

“It is obvious that you are a patient man and tha-” 

“It is not enough when that very vexation causes me to be kinder than I’ve ever been toward someone who repeatedly disrespects my existence.” 

“Kind? To me?” You scoff, turning away and crossing your arms. 

“I have been far kinder to you than anyone else I have held captive.” He’s advancing on you, but you can’t do much except back up against the tent side with fear. 

“All for some war so you can take the throne?” 

“All for my rightful place as Emperor.” 

“As a bastard son of the current Emperor, really.” Your cheeks are squeezed between fingers, and you taste the tang of iron in your mouth. You try to yank your face out of his grip, but it’s too strong, and you find that you’re held quite close to him as a result. He brings your face closer to his, eyes running wild over your features for a moment as he holds you captive. 

“Watch your tongue,” Geto warns, then lets you go, inhaling deeply before shaking out an exhale. You rub at your cheeks and now bitten tongue mournfully, giving the General a nasty look. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“I would if you told me everything,” you mumble, looking away from the way his muscles were illuminated and painted perfectly and to the ground. “If I’m to be a pawn in your game, at least let me in on your plan.” 

Geto looks over his shoulder at you, a small smile lifting the corners of his lips up. It’s something you can’t look away from, and your mouth dries up at the gesture of familiarity. “You would like that, wouldn’t you? I’ll tell you my secrets and then you’ll go and tell your kinsmen the plan, right? Somehow get that information to them… then plan your escape.” The smile falls, and the General turns back to you, his face now utterly serious. “I’m not a fool, little one. Foolishness did not get me this far, and I won’t begin to act like one now.” 

At this, he stalks out of the tent and leaves you alone again, stuck with your thoughts and your increasing desire to run away and never look back.

_______________________________________________________________________

Dinner. 

You’d come to dread the most decadent meal of the day where you would be sitting on the floor next to the General. You were not permitted to speak, but only eat from his hand and drink from his cup when allowed, and anyone could make fun of you behind hands or openly, as you were nothing more than an object. 

As you contemplate your fate yet again, you feel the familiar tap of something warm at your lips. 

“Eat.” Geto urges you, and you reluctantly open your mouth to accept the piece of meat. When you look around the table, you can just barely see the eyes of Gojo and Haibara following the motions of Geto’s hands as they converse about military strategy, but you can definitely see the eyes of the one they called Nanami following your movements with precision. 

Another piece of meat is presented for you to consume, and you do so mindlessly, observing the others at the table with less interest. That is, until you catch the little eyes of a child who sits at the other end of the table. He’s mid-chew with his little hands in the food, perhaps just now seeing you sitting on the floor like an obedient dog. 

You hadn’t seen children here before now, and it seems that the “little one” here was actually him, with his pink hair and brown eyes observing you curiously. It isn’t until he hops down from the table - his little hands plucking a piece of fish off of his plate - and disappears that your head eagerly follows his movements. 

Geto notices that you’re distracted and puts a hand on your shoulder, directing your attention back to him.

“If you--”

“Eat.” The voice of the child and the sliver of fish pressed to your mouth shocks both you and Geto, and the whole table is silenced by the interaction. “Eat.” The child encourages you again, and you accept the fish, his little fingers placing it in your mouth with care. As expected, the laughter begins anew, but you feel like laughing too as the child climbs back up to his seat and continues his own meal, unaware of the spectacle he’d just created. 

“It appears you have an effect on little Yuji, Geto,” Gojo howls at the end of the table, holding his stomach as he and Haibara roar with laughter. “Soon he’ll be feeding his own lady just like you!” 

And Geto laughs as well, tossing his head back and letting the sound carry into the night.

[xhanisai]

What if you had it all, But nobody to call?

AO3 / FFN

Summary:  "...Am I dreaming?" 

Marinette almost leapt to her feet and turned around, only for common sense and the hammered identity rule to slap her in the face and keep her rooted on the spot. 

Her Chaton was crying...crying. His entire body shook and shuddered as the sound of his quiet gasps filled the tense air, his touch now a raging inferno coursing through her veins.

And she couldn't even bring him into her arms and brush his tears away with her pinpricked fingers.

    ~(x)~

.

.

.

   Ladybug and Chat Noir's abilities were capable of many, many things. Things that were miraculously incredible to say at the very least and beyond scientific comprehension- for goodness sake, how many times have Ladybug brought the dead back to life after the umpteenth distraught puppet villain razed them to the ground?  And how many times have Chat Noir managed to take down La Tour Eiffel with one singular touch, rendering it to nothing but ashes and dust in the wind?  However, as magnificent and majestic as their powers were, not even they were able to prevent the dreaded pandemic that took over the world by a storm and put everyone completely at its mercy.  This time, the heroes that the world needed were those with medical training, scrubs and a vow to the Hippocratic oath.  Mon Dieu, were they such brilliant, resilient heroes indeed.  .  Despite the United Nations worldwide urging all civilians to stay indoors at all times (unless necessary outings were needed) and countries locking down dozens at a time, Le Papillon let it all flow through one ear and out the other. It's as if he has an addiction to sending out akumas left, right and centre as severe as a chain-smoker and the fact that there's an airborne virus that could completely destroy even the most healthiest person was just a muted buzz in the background. 

 Then again, what does one expect from the tunnel-visioned, single-minded, 'father of the year', Gabriel fucking Agreste?

     "There are people literally dying out here and this crusty old man can't even take a hint!?"

   "My Lady, what do we expect from the same man who regularly akumatises M. Ramier?"

 Of course, the teenaged vigilantes had no choice but to risk their safeties as well as their loved ones by sneaking out of their abodes and battling the millionth akuma on the streets. 

   "Chaton...my parents are starting to think I'm constipated. CONSTIPATED."

   "I told you, just use the shower excuse rather than the toilet excuse."

   "But then they'll think I have some sweaty teenaged puberty problem!"

   "Either way it's a bit shit, isn't it?"

   "Oh fuck off..."

 Thankfully, Tikki and Plagg were able to upgrade their traditional superhero suits, extending the masks downwards so that they covered the heroes' lower faces and filtered out the air, keeping them safe as they battled. However, social distancing was a whole new different obstacle that made these very fights thousands of times harder to win.  The numerous events that Chat Noir had to be verbally restrained from going absolutely apeshit on akumas that gave Ladybug a beating that went too far when he could have pushed her away in ordinary circumstances was just insane. The heroine never realised how dangerous her infamous clumsiness could be at times, concluding her completely vulnerable and at the akuma's mercy whilst Chat Noir has no choice but to scream her name in agony a good distance away.  And vice versa.  Oh mon Dieu.    She has had witnessed her poor partner get skewered and burnt alive by the more unforgiving victims too many times, her shaking arms aching to bring his body against hers so that she can feel his heart beating under her touch and lay kisses upon his tousled locks just to ensure her barely sane mind that he was still alive.  That he won't leave her forever.  The pandemic was such a vile curse...  And it made everyone feel so, so alone.  Finally, after months of these life-threatening fights, both physical and internal, both Ladybug and Chat Noir against le Papillon and the doctors and nurses and essential workers against the virus, a new testing system was introduced.

   "I finally got my results! I got negative. What about you, Bug?"

   "I got negative too! Dieu merci...looks like those sniffles I had really was hayfever after all,"

   "You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that, Ladybug. I...I couldn't help but think the worst when you mentioned about the sniffles last week...and I even yelled at you for coming out to battle the other day..."

   "Chat, you only had my best interests in mind...and I would have had done the same. But you can make it up to me, now that we can share a social bubble,"

   "How?"

   "Follow me!"

    .

   "-And now, we can freely grab each other whenever we want and we will be back in sync during akuma battles in no time. Isn't that great? Neither of us has to wallow in guilt or cry because we weren't able to push the other one out of harm's way." Marinette sighed happily, her bare hands squeezing her Chaton's as they both rested their backs against the pillar in between them.  The noir-haired girl couldn't help but let her fingers and thumbs map out every nook, every crevice and every feature of her partner's hands like a desperate lover.  The way that his longer, thicker fingers flexed under her touch and curled warmly against hers, the rough callouses on the palms that indicated years of hard work to whatever sport he's dedicated himself to, the glossy smoothness of his detransform miraculous on his right hand and its ridges poking into her skin and the sweet body heat that emanated from his caresses and sent her entire body aflame.  She missed this.  Dieu, she missed her partner's physical touch so much.

   .

   "...Am I dreaming?"

.

 Marinette almost leapt to her feet and turned around, only for common sense and the hammered identity rule to slap her in the face and keep her rooted on the spot.  Her Chaton was crying...crying. His entire body shook and shuddered as the sound of his quiet gasps filled the tense air, his touch now a raging inferno coursing through her veins.  And she couldn't even bring him into her arms and brush his tears away with her pinpricked fingers.  "Chat Noir?? What's wrong?" She asked, her heart skipping multiple beats when she attempted to move her hands away from his, only for Noir to grip them tightly and entwine their fingers firmly.  A perfect fit.  .  "S-Sorry...heh-I'm not upset," He reassured her, tightening his clasp on her hands lovingly, his lips aching to press against her sweet, bare-knuckles in a sound kiss. "It's just...it's just been a while since I've had proper human contact, My Lady...so I've almost forgotten what it's like to be touched...or touch another..."  Adrien felt her move, rather than saw, his Lady's breath hitching in her throat as she in return sent a squeeze back to him. It was as if his entire being was surrounded by a pool of warmth, lighting up his crushed soul and cleansing his shattered heart. The urge to just turn around and envelope her in his greedy arms was exorbitantly unbearable.   She was right there, just behind him, tempting him with that oh-so-familiar bakery scent of cinnamon and vanilla that he could taste it. Alas, his unwavering sense of loyalty to her rules and his primal feelings to keep her safe kept him chained down.  .  But sometimes, even the most beaten down, the most saddest and the most broken of people can receive a glimpse of hope.

   "Well, now you can have all the human contact you want, Chat. C-Close your eyes and I'll come to you- mine are closed too."

 She didn't give him a chance to answer, using her hands to manoeuvre her way towards him until finally, she found his lap and settled down before bringing him in for a well-needed embrace and burying his head into the crook of her neck. Adrien didn't hesitate in crushing her body against his chest, his arms locked around her waist, one hand digging into her smooth tendrils whilst the other one clenching the fabric of her shirt on the small of her back.  He selfishly inhaled in her scent, his tears saturating her neck whilst she in turn let her fingers tangle with his blonde strands, lips puckered against his nape as she memorised the pattern of his heartbeat in tandem to hers. 

   "How long can w-we stay like this?"

   "As long as you would like, mon Minou..."

.

They stayed like that in the same position, all night.

  .

.

.

~(x)~

[ariensoul]

BASICS

FULL NAME. vax’ildan vessar PRONUNCIATION. vax-il-dan vess-ar NICKNAME. vax GENDER. cismale HEIGHT. 5′9″ AGE. 28 ZODIAC. tba SPOKEN LANGUAGES. common, elvish

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS

HAIR COLOR.  dark brown EYE COLOR. brown BODY TYPE. leaner than he looks due to the layers he wears, with several scars from past battles marking his body ACCENT. those in the know can tell he was educated in syngorn, but he tries to hide it. VOICE. low, rough, does what he can to not seem well-born at all DOMINANT HAND. right, but he’s fairly ambidextrous  POSTURE. tba TATTOOS. more of a scar than a tattoo but he has the symbol of the clasp on his upper back that he doesn’t show anyone unless he has to use that connection. BIRTHMARKS. none MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S). pointed ears, the sign of his elven heritage.

CHILDHOOD

PLACE OF BIRTH. byroden, tal’dorei HOMETOWN. byroden / syngorn, tal’dorei BIRTH WEIGHT. tba BIRTH HEIGHT. tba FIRST WORDS. mama SIBLINGS. vex’ahlia (twin sister) PARENTS. elaina (mother, human seamstress, deceased), syldor vessar (father, elven ambassador, heavily estranged) PARENTAL INVOLVEMENT.  for the first ten years of his life, vax and vex both lived happily in a small village with their mother. but that was until their father found out about their existence and sent for them to come to the elven capitol to live with him. he had... very low opinions of his half-breed children, and as such left them with tutors to ‘educate’ them so they would not embarrass him. vax hates his father more than he hates anything else in the world.

ADULT LIFE  

OCCUPATION. rogue for hire, member of the adventuring group vox machina CURRENT RESIDENCE.  either on the road or at vox machina’s keep CLOSE FRIENDS. vex, grog strongjaw, keyleth, scanlan shorthalt, pike trickfoot, percy de rolo RELATIONSHIP STATUS. defaults to single FINANCIAL STATUS. depends on the day DRIVER’S LICENSE.  no CRIMINAL RECORD. ranges from breaking and entering to murder let’s be honest here. VICES.  stealing, flirting, picking fights, drinking, gambling...

SEX AND ROMANCE

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. bisexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION. biromantic PREFERRED EMOTIONAL ROLE.  submissive  | dominant | switch PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE.  submissive  | dominant |  switch LIBIDO. fairly normal? he enjoys flirting with people, but doesn’t feel the need to visit pleasure houses like some of his comrades. TURN ONS.  tba TURN OFFS.  being rude to his sister, also tba LOVE LANGUAGE. quality time, words of affirmation RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES.  vax doesn’t tend to date much because he’s either often leaving with vex or because she scares them off (because she’s worried that he’ll leave her no matter what he says we do not tolerate vex hate here).

MISCELLANEOUS

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG. tba HOBBIES TO PASS TIME. drinking, gambling, flirting, cleaning his daggers MENTAL ILLNESSES.  ptsd, but will he admit to it? nahhhhh. PHYSICAL ILLNESSES. none to mention LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED. right brained, prone to finding more creative solutions FEARS. losing vex, being alone SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL. tba VULNERABILITIES. there are times he cannot do the things that he is supposed to do well. (see: the door of evil) also tends to be brain-controlled a bit more than he’d like to admit. has a tendency to end up as the dude in distress but usually gets himself out of those situations before rescue comes.

[fanficflaneuse]

Dear Draco - Part 1

Part 2  Part 3  Bonus Chapter 

Index 

A/N: Hello loves, welcome to my new mini series based on an anon request. It will have three parts, four at most. I hope you like this! 

Thanks for all the love I received for my birthday. And thanks for reading and letting me know how you feel about my writing. 

Details: 

Draco x reader (she/her) 

Word count: 3146 (I got carried away, sorry). 

Summary: In the summer after fourth year, Draco falls in love with a muggle.

Disclaimers: it’s going to get angsty as hell and also very fluffy. Hermione x Draco friendship. 

Enjoy! 

Hermione sat alone on the library. She was deep in concentration, reading about the Patronus charm for the next DA meeting. All of a sudden, she felt someone looming over her. She closed her book, trying to make it seem as natural as possible. The brown-haired girl looked up, only to find none other than Draco Malfoy himself looming over her. Hermione’s features turned into a nasty scowl.  

“Granger,” he tried to sound conciliatory.

“What do you wa –wait, what? Since when do you call me by my last name?”  

Only then she realized Draco didn’t look like himself at all. Gone was the haughty attitude, the cocky smirk, the puffed chest. Not to mention the posse. He was no longer an image of confidence, but rather seemed distraught. This piqued the Gryffindor’s curiosity. Still, she was not going to let him see that. These days any slip could be detrimental.

Draco shrugged, hands deep in his robe’s pockets. “It’s your last name, isn’t it?”

Hermione eyed him suspiciously. “Oh, really? So, for five years you’ve thought my last name was mudblood?” she snapped.

Draco winced as she said the hateful label, as though it physically hurt him to hear it. This was the strangest sight she had encountered so far – which was plenty, all things considered.

“Are you okay, Malfoy?” she asked, baffled and cautious.

Draco didn’t answer. Instead, he just rubbed his face with his hands before pulling his hair just slightly. Hermione had never seen him act so natural, so human and, above all, so appalled. Slowly, the ubiquitous paranoia in the back of her mind fogged all of her brain. Her mind started shooting conspiracy theories left and right. As the seconds passed, she thought about every possible way in which Draco could be tending her a trap, which meant he knew something. Hermione got nervous and peered around for someone who could potentially help her. She noted – much to her annoyance – that her tendency to study in the farthest corners of the library had her facing the Slytherin prick on her own.

Draco noticed her discomfort and felt really stupid. He was about to leave, but then he remembered why he approached in the first place. It glued him in his place. So, he just shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and swallowed his pride.

“I…I need your help,” he said sheepishly.

For a second, Hermione thought about making a run for it. But she was far too intrigued now. She definitely wanted to know what could Draco Malfoy possibly need her help for. She stayed still, eyeing him skeptically.

“What is it?”

“Not here,” he said in a hushed voice.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, Malfoy” she huffed.

Draco lowered his gaze. The silence between them was absolutely charged. Hermione’s glare made him feel exposed and ashamed.

“Please.” The sound of his desperation almost convinced the Gryffindor. Almost.

“Harry and Ron must be within hearing range.”

“Not bloody likely,” he snapped.  

“Then no,” she said, crossing her arms.

Draco sighed, defeated. “Potter and Weasel-ey can’t know. Nobody can know. Hermione, please I am desperate.”

Hermione looked at him, her eyes wide. He had used her first name for the first time ever. She realized he must have been absolutely desperate. As stupid as seemed, it disarmed her. Hermione took a deep breath. In the worst of cases, Hermione thought, she was more than capable to defend herself from Malfoy. Besides, if he knew something about D.A, it was better to get over with it. She stood up, picked her books and looked at him.

“Where?”

Draco turned on his heel and guided Hermione to moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. She eyed him suspiciously as he motioned for her to get into a stall. He shot her a pout and Hermione rolled her eyes, but entered anyways. She thought she must have been going crazy as she found herself just inches away from Malfoy, who seemed unfazed by the whole affair. He felt so hopeless in his situation he didn’t really care what he had to do at this point.

“So,” she said awkwardly.

Draco didn’t listen. Hermione realized he was casting a silencing charm around them. Only then, did he dare to spill the secret that had been locked in his heart.

“Hermione, I am in love with a muggle.”

As the Hogwarts’ express arrived to platform 9 ¾ after their fourth year, Draco found himself alone. This was a strange occurrence; usually his parents were there to greet him. Their absence hinted something unpleasant, considering the dreary note in which the schoolyear had ended, and suddenly he didn’t feel like apparating back home. Not knowing where else to go, Draco joined the crowd of students heading towards muggle London.

He had never been to the muggle King’s Cross station and he’d be lying to say he wasn’t startled by it. He was mesmerized by the buzzing of the crowd, the smoke coming from the muggle trains, and the elegant simplicity of the station. He was eyeing the entrance curiously, wondering if he should step out or apparate back home, when he bumped into her. Or rather, she collided with him and their trunks were suddenly scattered around.

“Bloody muggles,” he murmured, as he picked his belongings.

“What did you call me?” the girl growled.

“Nothing,” Draco said, startled. He was not used to people talking back to him. The only ones who did were the infamous golden trio, but after five years of bantering he considered it part of his daily routine. Everyone else bowed their heads and carried own with their lives. He was expecting the muggle to follow suit.

She didn’t. So, he softened his scowl to take a good look at her, only to find the most striking girl he had ever seen. Draco was absolutely smitten. She tilted her head, eyeing him curiously.

“You have pretty eyes,” she said casually, as though she was talking about the weather. He felt his face getting hot, his eyes opening in a very unbefitting gesture of surprise. He wondered how she could be so…so easy-going about stuff like that. He had been thought to be suave, but four words of her had beat him.

Draco realized she was waiting for a response. “T-thank you,” he said embarrassedly. He grimaced when he heard her chuckle. The girl tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and stood up, offering a hand for him. Draco looked at the stretched hand for a while and took it just before she let it drop. They were soon shamelessly staring at each other, until a wave of people pushed them.

“Where are you going?” she asked. Draco shrugged in response, not knowing what to say.  

“Well…I don’t want to go back home. Would you want to go somewhere with me?”

Draco shoved his hands in his pockets, not knowing what to do. He didn’t want to go back home either. He had an enticing girl in front of him, one that didn’t hesitate to tell him – a stranger – his eyes were pretty and invite him somewhere. But that girl happened to be a mudblood. He shook that thought off his head, realizing, once again, that he was lost in thoughts and the girl was looking at him, waiting for him to answer.

“My name is (y/n),” she said as she pushed her trolley.

“Draco,” he answered, pushing his own trolley, “Draco Malfoy.”

(y/n) giggled, which filled Draco’s stomach with butterflies. “What is it?” Even he could hear the amusement in his voice.

“Was it after the constellation or because it’s Latin for dragon?” she mused.  

Draco gave her a small, genuine smile. “Both.”

He soon realized he had no idea where they were going. (y/n) seemed to read his mind, as she explained that they could leave their trunks at a luggage storage while they a stroll through the city. He then noticed that (y/n)’s trolley had trunks, big wooden trunks that resembled his own instead of the ungodly and shabby suitcases he had seen some mudbloods carrying around. He regarded her for a moment as they walked, examining her wardrobe: she wore a carmine coloured skirt, a matching blazer, black tights, black patent loafers and a creamy button-up with a dainty black bow at the collar. Her hair was up in a complicated hair-do. Draco noted that, by her side, he didn’t look particularly out of place in his sweater vest and tie. They could pass as two eccentric, rich kids.

“I gather you’re not from London.” She caught him staring in awe as they left the station, which made him feel self-conscious.

“N-no,” he stammered.

“Where are you from, then?”

“Wiltshire,” he blurted out. Draco realized he must look totally awkward, stuttering every answer as though he never had a conversation in his life. He didn’t know if he was nervous because of her or the fact that he was walking to the unknown with none other than a muggle, but it was totally wrecking his suaveness.

The girl seemed patient enough and smiled at him softly. Maybe it was even out of pity, but he found it adorable. “My grandma lives in Wiltshire. My mother makes me go there every once in a while, but I don’t like it that much.”

“Why?” he asked, genuinely interested.

“It’s a beautiful place, don’t get me wrong. And my grandma’s estate is marvellous, but such a vast house makes the solitude much more…real, you know?” Draco was hanging onto her every word now. She was describing, unabashedly, something he had felt since childhood. He admired her capacity to say this kind of things without the need of closed doors or silencing charms.

“I…I feel just the same,” Draco answered. He was surprised by the idea that him and muggles could have something in common.

(y/n) stopped on her tracks and Draco, who was following her around like a lost puppy, bumped into her back. He was about to apologize when she stopped him. “Given that you’re not from here, let’s do some touristy stuff. We can start here,” she said pointing out the building behind them. It was a grand construction, all in brick of a pinkish colour.

“British library,” Draco mouthed unsure. He noticed how (y/n) blushed slightly and her smile fell a little.

“We could…we could do something else,” she offered a bit ashamed. Draco felt terrible, he wanted her to smile again, to talk to him excitedly as she had done just a couple of seconds before. So, without really thinking about it, he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the building.

She clasped his hand, an easy smile on his face, and was soon guiding him through rows and rows of muggle books he had never heard before. Draco tried to listen to everything she said. He wanted to remember names and references and look them up to have more things to talk to her about. Draco found himself wanting more conversations with her, more tours through libraries, more recommendations.

(y/n) was an open book. She told him that her parents were divorced. She lived with her mother in Edinburgh. Her father was a professor at LSE – whatever that was. He imagined, by context, it was a muggle Hogwarts.

“I like how you’re unphased by it,” she said.

“What do you mean?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

“Whenever I tell anybody my dad works in LSE, I get a lot of praise. No matter how bigshot the person is, they want the easy way in to the school,” she shrugged. It meant nothing to Draco, who scratched the back of his neck in confusion. (y/n) laughed and carried on, pulling him through different streets with their fingers intertwined.

Draco just let go. He was having so much fun with her, he almost forgot about how weird the situation was. They talked about astronomy and Greek mythology, topics he – thankfully – dominated. They talked about their love for reading and learning. They bonded over the fact that their parents had very high expectations for them and they were top of their classes.

“Top of your class?” asked Hermione, eyebrow raised, as he told her this.

“I’m the second best. She didn’t need to know about you.” For the first time ever, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy shared a laugh. He then carried on with the most unlikely story ever.

Draco avoided telling her as many details as he could, but they managed to connect over the most universal feelings and situations. They talked about loneliness and pressure, about finding joy in the most unexpected things, about creating a façade for people. When she told him she enjoyed nature, he told her he played “a sport”. He smiled softly and agreed – almost unironically – when she said she would love to fly. When she told him about her pets, he told him his house was full of peacocks.

“She has a dog named Matisse, a snake named Medusa and a cat named Catsby,” he said.

Hermione laughed, which confused Draco deeply. “What’s so funny Granger?” He was getting defensive.

“Catsby,” she said, “what a very nerdy joke.”

Draco furrowed his brow. “Explain it to me. Merlin, maybe for once I can laugh at one of her jokes. She thinks I have the most backward sense of humour,” he ranted, hiding his face in his hands. Hermione thought it was almost – almost – adorable.

She told him in length about The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald and the Lost Generation, because she figured they were some references that would come in handy if he kept talking to (y/n). Once he understood the reference, Draco snorted.

“She’s such a smartass,” he said lovingly.

Hermione couldn’t believe her eyes. She was dying to know what he needed from her, but refrained from asking, allowing him to gush some more.

(y/n) invited him to afternoon tea. The tearoom reminded him of the grandeur of the tea parties back in the manor. He felt comfortable, and ventured to tell her little details about his boarding school. He told her about his favourite places and pastimes – the ones that could pass as muggle, of course. He told her about his friends. They talked and enjoyed tea and pastries until it was very late.

As they picked their trunks, they promised to meet the next day. They spent together almost every day of that summer. He was very careful when sneaking out, but soon realized his parents didn’t notice much, so he had free reign over his time as long as he was back for dinner. They met at the entrance of the station and they would stroll through the city together. (y/n) thought him how to use the tube. She taught him history as they walked hand in hand through museums and libraries. She recommended books he had to read in the middle of the night. And before he could even realize it, Draco caught feelings for her.

They kissed for the first time one month after they first met. They had spent the day walking through Camden Town. They visited little stores and swayed to music in the middle of the street. As every single afternoon, Draco didn’t want to say goodbye. (y/n)’s arms were locked around his neck and his own were on her hips. His chin rested on top of her head and they stayed like that for a while. Not saying anything. She pushed away from him just a little to see his face and they could feel the desire engulfing them.

Draco leaned in first, slow and calculated. (y/n) closed her eyes as soon as she felt their lips touching. It was a delicious sensation, their lips moving in synch in a kiss they had been waiting for a long time. As they pulled away, they were both a bit breathless and absolutely happy.

After that day, things changed for them. Every day they grew more attached to each other and it was harder and harder to say goodbye. And then the last day of August came by. (y/n) gave Draco her contact information for him to write and call her. When she asked for his, though, he made an elaborate story on how his school was very strict and prohibited letters from outsiders. (y/n) hadn’t bought it.

“I don’t get it. What kind of school doesn’t allow you to receive calls and letters?” she said, not very convinced. Draco didn’t want to look her way, knowing very well that he’d give her everything she wished if he saw her adorable little pout.

“So, I won’t hear from you?” she sighed, “Is this true or are you trying to get rid of me?” Draco finally looked her way and his heart broke. (y/n) was trying to hold back tears. He hugged her tightly, protectively.

“Hey, hey,” he said, taking her chin gently with his hand, “Never in a million years would I try to get rid of you.” He wiped away her tears, feeling miserable for making her sad. He hated that she had jumped into that terrible conclusion.

“I promise I will do everything I can to contact you. I’ll find a way. I’ll break the rules,” he said, not a hint of doubt in his voice. (y/n) hugged him tightly.

“I am going to miss you so much,” she said in a small, quavering voice.

“Me too, love,” he answered, hugging her back and trying to remain strong for both of them.

That is why he has here, three weeks into their fifth year, almost begging for Hermione’s help. He was desperate because he hadn’t thought about a way to contact (y/n) and he missed her so much his heart was genuinely aching. He imagined (y/n) must be heartbroken thinking he had played her and that thought alone was enough to give him nightmares.

Hermione was still trying to process everything he was telling her. Still in disbelief, she gave Draco a hug. The Gryffindor felt how he stiffened with her touch, but then he heard him sigh and relax. The Slytherin hugged her back and Hermione’s whole body tinged with hope. If Draco Malfoy had fallen for a muggle, anything could happen now.

“Is this why you didn’t join Umbridge’s squad?” she asked curiously.

Draco shrugged. “Mostly.”  

Hermione agreed to help him and they soon found a way. For the rest of the year, Draco handed in (y/n)’s letters to Hermione. She owled them to her own parents and they sent them by Royal Mail to her. Occasionally, Hermione would sit next to Draco in Myrtle’s bathroom. She would explain to him the references he wouldn’t get, which were mostly about culture. At times, she’d stay a little longer and they would gossip. To their surprise, they soon became each other’s confidant.

tags: @cleopatera @okaydraco @naomi02hook @the-hufflefluffwriter

[idontdowellunderpressure]

Hisoillu Week - Day 4: Love Languages

Title: Thinking of You

Illumi was feeling guilt for the first time in his life.

At least he was fairly certain it was guilt. All the books he’d read regarding the emotion seemed to match up with his symptoms. The stomach pains that felt lighter but more tangled than sorrow. The intrusive thoughts that seemed to loop back and feed themselves until it was all he could think about. The entire process seemed to be related to anxiety, he feeling he was more familiar with due to the rare failure to meet family expectations in his youth.

And the cause of it, it seemed to be, was Hisoka.

That bastard.

And it seemed to happen every time the man made him happy, which contrasted the guilt so sharply that it compounded the negative emotion exponentially. Illumi found himself unable to smile when Hisoka complimented his outfit of the day. He no longer relaxed when Hisoka braided his hair. And sex was just a little less pleasurable when his mind was clouded by anything other than ecstasy when Hisoka whispered praises into his ear.

The same books that helped him to identify his problem offered some solutions. Apologizing for the mistake that caused the guilt seemed to be the most common, though Illumi was at an utter loss as to what that could mean. He didn’t make mistakes.

Another common suggestion was to talk to someone about the guilt, usually a third party. Illumi might have been tempted if he had any other associates in his life. But other than his family, whom he had no intention of involving in this, there was no one but Hisoka.

Illumi was considering whether a random person off the streets would be able to help when Hisoka breezed into the living room. He pecked a quick kiss on Illumi’s forehead before settling down on the other side of the couch. He threw his feet across Illumi’s lap before picking up the remote to begin the ruse of channel surfing for something interesting before settling on Judge Jackie, his guilty pleasure every weekday at noon.

Meanwhile a soft ‘ah’ fell from Illumi’s lips as he reached a conclusion. He saw Hisoka tilt his eyes over to him, one eyebrow raising in concern. Illumi shook his head, indicating that his sound was nothing important, and watched Hisoka turn back to the tv.

It was lack of reciprocity.

It was impossible to keep track of all the compliments Hisoka had thrown at him, considering he’d been doing so long before they entered into a partnership. And the amount of small physical gestures was near in number as well. But Illumi could clearly remember each instance in which he had done the same to Hisoka. There was little point in telling Hisoka how beautiful or intelligent or charming or funny he was. He had to have already known, as confident as he was. The physical touches though. Perhaps Illumi could start doing that more?

He lifted Hisoka’s feet of his lap and shuffled up the couch so Hisoka’s calves were resting on him. Hisoka didn’t look away from the tv though until Illumi intertwined his left hand with his right. His eyebrows were raised a bit, but no smile, which was strange. Hisoka liked holding hands, he did it often enough when walking down the street and while having sex for Illumi to be certain of this. Maybe that was the problem. Illumi had yet to ever initiate it.

Illumi smiled, reassuring Hisoka there was no trick or impending attack despite what the strange behavior might have suggested. He looked over to the tv as Judge Jackie called both the defendant and prosecutor idiots for bringing their squabble to her courtroom. Illumi forced his shoulders to relax and tried to paint the outward picture of contentment, hoping Hisoka would catch on and settle as well.

The small smile he caught out of the corner of his eye signaled success and made his guilt disappear.

 ---------------

But Illumi simply couldn’t keep up. There weren’t enough opportunities to display physical affection for him to remain equal to Hisoka. Every time he would identify an opening, the damned magician would exploit it before him! A kiss on cheek at breakfast. An arm over his shoulder on the couch. A caress against the small of his back in the shower. A nuzzle into his neck in bed.

A blatant repetition of the affection wouldn’t be enough, it was far too passive to indicate anything beyond politeness. And so Illumi found himself downtown, strolling down the streets in search of a gift to offer Hisoka.

The idea had come to him after sending Milluki his birthday present a week ago. Milluki wasn’t the only sibling he sent gifts to, though he was by far the simplest to remain in contact with now, and most often the knowledge that he’d made his siblings happy with an object made Illumi happy in turn. He expected the same with Hisoka and was determined to find something to suit the man’s tastes.

However, Illumi didn’t realize how complicated such a task would be until he’d reached the shops. Hisoka was surprisingly difficult to shop for as the man wasn’t particularly interested in things. Hisoka’s allotted shelves in their apartment had a constantly rotating selection of books, movies, and knick-knacks. A book he claimed to love would be tossed aside because “I already know how it ends”. A Rubik’s cubic he’d fiddled with all winter would be given away to the first child he met on the street who showed interest in the puzzle.

The only thing he seemed remotely attached to were clothes, but Illumi didn’t feel confident enough to try and assume to know Hisoka’s eclectic tastes. Two pairs of heels that looked the exact same sat in Hisoka’s closest because they were –apparently— so obviously suited to different occasions. Illumi proceeded to ignore every clothing store he passed.

Five hours later and all Illumi had to show for his efforts when he returned to the apartment were some grocery bags. And he would have had less than that if he hadn’t remembered how empty their fridge had been last night. He was in the middle of organizing the pantry when Hisoka sauntered into the kitchen and began rummaging directly through the bags.

“Oh~” he heard Hisoka croon behind him. Illumi glanced over his shoulder to see Hisoka holding a small box of strawberries that he’d picked up in the farmer’s market on his way back. It was the only thing he hadn’t gotten at the grocery store because he knew the strawberries from the market were better. At least that’s what Hisoka claimed.

“Thank you for getting me these.” Hisoka chirped, smiling around his savage bite of the bloody red fruit.

“You’re welcome,” Illumi replied automatically, smiling himself when he saw the way Hisoka’s grin curled in contentment. He hummed absently as he sat on the kitchen counter, munching on strawberries as he watched Illumi bustle about the kitchen.

A few days later, having gone shopping for more meat and vegetables, Illumi perused the framer’s market until he saw a strange fruit that he didn’t recognize the name of. Virscia were the size of his fist and purple on the outside but pale green on the inside. The vendor said the closest thing he could compare the fruit to was a cross between wine and pineapples. Illumi bought four, as well as some durian and one watermelon. He arrived home with his purchases and sat the kitchen table, watching Hisoka enjoy his gifts over the course of the week.

Three weeks later he bought some of Hisoka’s favorite hair gel after noticing he was running low. While at the store, he found some face masks that were said to be good for moisturizing. Hisoka had mentioned before that his makeup could dry out his skin if he kept it on too long, so he added the masks to the cart. Hisoka was delighted by the masks and insisted they both wear them that night while watching a movie. The gel tingled nicely against his skin, but Illumi was more pleased about the comforting warmth radiating throughout his body.

A month later he risked the purchase of a pack of cards. Two packs, technically. One was a hand painted set of intricate vines and sweeping waves for the pip cards with delicately featured people for the court cards. The red was a deep, rich color reminiscent of fresh blood. The black was a dark, consuming tone that made the white shine in contrast.

The other was a cheap, gag deck that depicted the current Zodiacs in various poses and states of dress. Illumi was disappointed, but not surprised, when Hisoka seemed to like that one more. But the next time Illumi had brought Hisoka along on an assignment, he noticed how Hisoka placed a careful kiss to his expensive cards before dragging them through an opponent’s jugular.

But was it enough?

Three months later, lying in bed without a hint of sleep to come, Illumi was counting and tallying his gifts. Fruit and makeup and cards and hair dye and earrings and candy. Was it all enough? Was he doing enough? It was all so small, so paltry that Illumi couldn’t be certain if Hisoka understood just how much-

“I love you,” the words slipped out of his mouth and he heard Hisoka move beside him. The mattress didn’t make a sound, but the bed dipped as Hisoka straddled Illumi and kissed him, deep and slow and yearning.

“I know.” He said, his breath ghosting across his lips before he closed the distance again.

“No, Hisoka,” Illumi placed his hands on Hisoka’s face, pulling Hisoka far back enough for them to look each other in the eye, to try and communicate what went beyond words. “I love you.”

“I know,” Hisoka grinned, his eyes becoming mere slits to make room on his face for his smile. “You show me with every gift you give.” Hisoka pushed against his hands, leaning down to place a kiss on his nose.

“All those things you give me. You know me so well. You pay attention to me. You think of me. You love me. I know. I know because you show me.” He placed another kiss, this time of Illumi’s lips, and Illumi slid his hands up and into Hisoka’s hair.

“Thank you,” Hisoka murmured, this time keeping his mouth close enough for Illumi to feel his lips brush against his own. “Thank you, for thinking of me.”

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

Link to story on ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26078929

Credit to the creator/curator of hisoillu week 

@illumiszoldycks

(apologies for the spamming, but I found this prompt list today and was just really excited to contribute what I could to the fandom)

[felassan]

TEVINTER NIGHTS details (new)

ohh shit ohh fuckk Not a drill! Under the cut because spoilers. Don’t look if you want to read these short stories unspoiled.

serious SPOILER WARNING.

also please bear in mind I was working from fragments and trying my best to infer, so it’s not going to be perfectly correct like an oracle!

Dorian is in it

Maevaris is in it

Vaea is in it

no Zevran from what I can see sorry :’( [but bear in mind I can’t see all of it] BUT there is reference to House Arainai

Solas is mentioned at least 4 times by the name Solas

Solas or his new cultists seemingly have ordered his/their agents “Death before capture” they fucking SUICIDE PILL rather than be captured WTF?? or at least one agent in a story does. (see quotes below)

it also reads like they’re blowing up/bombing/trying to blow up towns of thousands of people???

Felassan is mentioned

A FEMALE ELF WHO SHAPESHIFTED INTO A HALLA and then a falcon and a snowy owl. she has short hair, freckles and striking features; I’m love

STRIFE THE ELF. 

a reference to the HoF; or more specifically an assassin family lost face when they failed to complete a contract on their life

An Executor is in it and talks, has interactions with several different types of characters

werewolves!!

in the first story a City Elf-turned-Dalish and a lowborn Tevinter mage are taken as slaves by invading Qunari during their invasion of Tevinter, escape and learn to work together to overcome their prejudices and such in order to survive (since they were chained together). Dalish/elvhen lore is quite prominent in this short.

The Qunari are moving into Rivain. “You need to get word to the clans before they land.” Clans in Rivain confirmed again?

Divine Victoria appears, seems to be kept neutral/non-specific i.e. can be any of the 3

Venatori mentions

red lyrium encounters

there’s a new Dalish clan name given, Oranavra

one story seems to deal with a clan getting back their precious ironbark halla statue

Andruil mentioned several times. Ghilan’nain mentioned

we’re going to Arlathan Forest. it has entities protecting it called Forest Guardians or sth

there is some sort of order or guild called the Lords of Fortune. they are treasurehunters, the order seems to be Rivaini in origin but like others can join?

also the first story features a Tevinter male mage (not magister) who is MLM

there’s a Qunari rank Bas-taar it means Keeper of Bas

Charter appears and she does gay pining for Tessa, twice

Sutherland and company appear and go on a mission. We get some insight into each of their pasts

Philliam, a Bard! appears. he argues with Genetivi

Varric as Viscount Tethras is mentioned

Kal-Sharok is mentioned

Cassandra is mentioned, seems to appear in Sidony’s flashback

Josephine is mentioned

we return to Skyhold as it is the setting for a story

more wiping out of Dalish groups fucks sake Bioware

a Rasaan is in it

Genetivi is in it

Dagna appears

Valya mentioned, doing new research into new weird darkspawn phenomena. and HOLY SHIT, the new darkspawn revelations in this book!!

the Antaam attacked without the permission of the rest of the Qunari govt

Sidony from DAMP is in it

without an army Antiva’s only line of defense against the Qunari is the Crows

Kirkwall’s events & boom referenced

Serault glass mirrors mentioned

House Danarius mentioned, a mage from the house was mentioned as having been up to something

a new type of demon I think, Regret. & the implication that there are spirits of Contemplation and Introspection. I think the Regret we see, “the regret of a god”, is Solas’ regret :S Sutherland and Co are dispatched to Skyhold to deal with it, it had like taken up residence in the deserted building or something. seems like all Solas’ regrets about what’s occurred and his choices like coalesced into this spirit (not literally but the spirit took the form because the feeling was so strong)

many cameo appearances from minor npcs who were Skyhold staffers

necromancers in Nevarra get skeletons to do their chores and its totally normal

there is an establishment called the Nug Queen

“hollix” means something like “irrepressible rascal” in old Tevene

no mention of live griffons from what I can see

Isseya is mis-spelled as Issenya

Quotes:

As though my good works were insufficient to draw compassionate spirits who might wish me protected, as though I were some common criminal binding spirits through blood magic, not the victim of the Dread Wolf himself! they returned with

[suicide pill entry] Her teeth clenched. Green foam started to fill her mouth. I dropped her to the ground and she started spasming, her legs drumming on the wooden deck. Her back arched once, twice, and then she was still. I knelt beside her and put my fingers to the side of her throat. Nothing. Dead. Damnit. “And that’s the other reason I didn’t join. Death before capture. Not my sort of thing at all.”

The words battered us like storm winds, and the Dread Wolf’s jaws closed upon the Tevinter mage, snapping him up in an instant as he screamed in terror. The lesser demons rushed down upon us, crackling with fire and lightning and our

us, and the demons that had accompanied the Dread Wolf burst into the world in righteous fury, shining warriors with blades forged from the raw fade itself and behind them, dimly visible through the crackling light, the shadow of the beast

“And now we know that the Dread Wolf has agents working for him,” the bard added, his mask glittering in the firelight as he tossed back his golden locks. “and that he has the power to kill those who oppose him as they sleep.”

“I act freely. For the Dread Wolf. To bring back what was once ours - what must be ours again.” Dread Wolf. Crap. I’d heard the rumors of course - dozens of elves, off to heed the call of some god. Guess I’d found one of them, at least. “The Qunari left sooner than I’d expected - their trail grew cold. But I had you. You found them for me.

All painted by Solas, the Inquisition’s expert on the Veil and the Fade beyond. It was his gift of record. At least, that’s what was claimed at the time. The rotunda they entered now was not fastidiously clean like the rest of Skyhold. The floor was

“Tevinter’s intelligence network declined to answer our request,” Charter said, “As did the Ben-Hassrath.” She grimaced. “The latter is especially disappointing. They had more knowledge of Solas’ movements than anyone else. They also”

“‘Solas’ is also not true.” “Pride,” said Laudine. “It means pride.” Rasaan stopped and cocked an eye. “Very good,” she said. Names were important to the Qunari. They were named for their roles, and roles defined their identities. Their actual

“Beyond that, the Inquisition knows little about what Solas intends. Much of his research involves the Veil that separates our world from the world of the spirits. He claimed to have created it, and he asked the Inquisition for help activating

A lone elf. My client. [...] The rune that she’d given me - she held it aloft, examining it critically. Muttering a single word over and over again.  “Felassan, Felassan, Felassan.” There was a hum, and the rune began to glow a steady and unpleasant red. I’d been around enough magic to know that was probably not a good thing.

“But you are now known to Fen’Harel. He has eyes everywhere. Inside Tevinter, without a doubt.” “So where should we go?” Irian asked quietly. She had moved closer, and was standing directly beside me.

The Fen’Harel question. How many lives had ended, seeking an answer? Four more, if our turn chasing a legend fails tonight. But we’ve dragged truth from the darkness beneath Tevinter, found pages that will guide

of those damned Fen'Harel cultists. 'Ooh, if we blow up enough people, ancient Elvhenan is definitely coming back.'” She caught my questioning glance. “They tried to recruit me a few years ago. I said no.” 

as the Avvar do. But whatever fear the name Dread Wolf carries, he has earned. While we might visit the Fade, it is his natural home, and the spirits there serve him gladly. They whisper in my dreams now, accusing me of crimes I never

the wolves. Each event that had shaped the Inquisition was being stripped of color.

The division of the mortal realm from the Fade was not a natural state that had always existed. It was an event, a moment in time that had literally shattered the elven empire. Pieces of that glory now drifted beyond dream and will, with the Dread Wolf stalking between. But other pieces remained, displaced in the physical world.

Elves are slim, but its their eyes and ears we recall. Humans have the most variety in the shoulders, and all anyone sees about qunari are height and horns

In our veins runs true Tevinter blood, passed down from the dreamers -

You all know that the Antaam invaded without permission of the other branches of Qunari government? We had assumed this would hobble them, but it appears the priests and workers were a moderating influence. Without them, the Antaam have crushed the Tevinter opposition in the east, and I fear everything east of Vyrantium will be under their control within a year, and northern Antiva as well.

The Inquisition had to be disbanded, they argued.. The Inquisition wasn’t the first army it had hosted. It would remain a distant beacon, so that all would remember when the Inquisitor had rallied the people of Thedas against a false god

He couldn’t be killed until his blighted dragon was dead, and the Herald had somehow countered with a dragon of their own. And there was a dragon on the panel, with an Inquisition blade in its neck. But according to the story

Every act of the Inquisitor recorded in masterful plaster and paint. From the explosion that had marked the Herald, to the triumph against a blighted false god

matter to her that Sidony wanted nothing to do with the fate of her home country? The Inquisitor does not want to see that happen to Nevarra. Or did it only matter that the Inquisitor was pleased?

The Inquisitor has taken a chance on his potential. But more than that, the Inquisitor had stood for him. Had stood for them all. Made them feel like they were worth it and could help. Made them look forward.

We bounced once, twice, jostling with the magical orb but it still held

Something huge trembled around us, a spirit so great that it shook parts of the Fade I had always considered to be neutral, devoid of life. - and high overhead, where the Black City shadowed the sky, I heard a great booming roar

So that’s what it was. “Supposed to be a piece of the Black City itself. ‘A reminder of man’s hubris, and of the unique and glorious divinity of the Maker’.” I snorted. “Seems like a bunch of nug shit to me.” “Regardless, the artifact has been stolen.

“Anything else?” “Whoever clips the Crows’ wings will walk by my side when we enter the Black City and take glory back for the Imperium.”

The Blight is over, or so it seems. Valya, a young elven mage recently recruited into the Wardens, has been tasked with studying the historical records of previous Blights in order to gain insight into newly reported, and disturbing, darkspawn phenomena. Her research into the

One of our best smiths has been studying red lyrium, and she says the blasted stuff is tainted by the Blight. A few families might’ve tried to keep smuggling it after that, but we shut that down. The Carta believes in business. Blight is bad for business.

So when this Dalish elf comes around asking can someone get the lyrium idol out of what’s left of the statue, our first thought was to send him back to his clan with a few new tattoos on his face, if you know what I mean. Plus, the idol is

“Or he could be a demon impersonating an elf,” the Mortalitasi said, sipping her wine. “What he does is not... especially Tevinter.” the Mortalitasi said with a sneer. “since most of it is built over where the ancient elves lived.”

“FROM THIS MOMENT, SHOULD YOU EVER BIND A SPIRIT, THEN YOUR LIFE IS MINE.” The hypocrisy almost made me laugh. The Dread Wolf forbade us from binding spirits, but why would these lesser demons attack us if not because the

but before the Tevinter mage could complete his ritual, the Dread Wolf arrived... burning eyes like a pride demon, and it came to us on wings of fire that resolved themselves into a horde of lesser demons as the Dread Wolf landed before us

The mark of the Pride demon, Audric realized. 

“I would caution you in dealing with those across the sea,” he said, “they are dangerous. “More dangerous than the elf who threatens the world?”

[okayto]

Murderbot Reference: Character Descriptions Part 2

Fandom reference! I tried to note every time a person/thing got a physical description, as well as additional info like how augments work, etc. Please note that there may be spoilers for all five books, but especially Network Effect.

This post contains:

ART’s Senses

ART’s Crew

Three

Rami, Tapan and Maro

Tlacey

Tlacey’s ComfortUnit

Targets (Network Effect)

Barish-Estranza: Eletra, Ras, and Supervisor Leonide

Augments (what they are/how they work)

Other Human Personal Tech (Non-Augments)

Other Bots/Machines: Agricultural Bot, Pathfinders, NE Target Drones, MB’s Drones

Other posts: Part 1; Part 3

ART’s Senses

·         Besides cameras, sees ship through internal sensors, “which provided data (heat, density, angles of motions, etc.) that didn’t translate into images, at least not visual images useful to humans.”

·         MB guesses that gaps in ART’s memory archives might look like “a giant interruption in the constant incoming reports from subsystems like life support, navigation, etc. It was tricky, because for ART these are not like discrete reports from connected systems, but more like the sensory input I would get from the pads on the tips of my fingers.”

·         Does have cameras in many areas, cameras hidden enough that MB didn’t know they existed until ART turned them on and provided access via the feed in NE.

·         Likes Amena and talks to her more gently than MB or other humans—it’s more careful of Amena’s feelings. Has talked about human adolescents in a positive way. ART is, on a regular basis, a teaching vessel.

 ART’s Crew

·         Iris: augmented human. Dark brown skin, wearing a decorative woven bracelet when rescued in NE and a light blue longsleeved T-shirt. Small, shorter and slimmer than Ratthi, but not much bigger than Amena. Dark hair is the curly kind that puffs out a lot, but in NE pulled back and tied up in a band. Hair is long enough that she lifted it up so MB could see her back/neck when checking for an implant. Longsleeved T-shirt and pants and soft shoes are the casual version of ART’s blue crew uniform. Some bruises and scrapes at rescue. Seth’s child.

·         Seth: tall, very dark brown skin, “with less hair than most SecUnits,” a mostly-hairless head; earlier description from photograph (later context makes this likely to be Seth) says “no hair on the front half of his head.” Iris’s parent, she calls him “Dad.” Captain of Perihelion.

·         Martyn is Iris’s other parent (called “Dad); Seth’s marital partner; earlier description from photograph (later context makes this likely to be Martyn posing next to Seth) says lighter skin than Seth, with short white hair; he/him

·         Kaede is about the same size as Iris, but skin is lighter and her hair is yellow

·         Matteo is small like Iris and Kaede, and has a lot of dark hair that at rescue had come loose from braids. They/Them.

·         Turi is young like Amena. They/Them

·         Karime uses she/her

·         Tarik uses he/him

·         On variation of crew uniform (made for MB): dark blue, pants and jacket of deflective fabric, good quality (better than Station Security), with lots of sealable pockets for weapons and drones. Stability fabric boots, probably tough enough to jam a hatchway. Looks like what human security would wear. ART’s crew logo on the jacket, which also has a collar that folds down.

 Three

·         SecUnit, with projectile weapon built into arm

·         Armor flexes if it shifts its shoulders

 Rami, Tapan, and Maro

·         All wearing variations on work clothes, no uniform logos. Either Rami or Maro has an implant, but none are augmented. Part of a group marriage of 7 people, with 5 children of various sizes. MB thinks all are young—not far from adolescence.

·         Rami: tercera, “which was a gender signifier used in the group of non-corporate political entities known as the Divarti Cluster,” te/ter. Purple hair, red eyebrows, light brown skin. Wearing a jacket.

·         Tapan: female. Multicolored braids wrapped up around her head, blue jewel-toned feed interface clipped to ear, slightly darker skin than Rami. Wearing a flower-patterned t-shirt.

·         Maro: female. Very dark skin, silver-colored little puffs of hair, “almost beautiful enough to be in the entertainment media.”

 Tlacey

·         Augmented human female

 Tlacey’s ComfortUnit

·         Physical configuration doesn’t match SecUnit standard.

·         Lots of hair, silver with blue and purple on the ends, pulled back and braided like Tapan’s but in a much more complicated pattern.

·         Bare arms show no metal, and no gun ports

 Targets (Network Effect)

·         When fully affected: look like tall, thin augmented humans. Dull gray skin. Narrow human features, dark brows standing out against smooth gray skin. Colorless lips.

·         Not completely identical: one Target on ship is slightly taller and has broader shoulders than the other.

·         Targets on ships: wearing formfitting protective suits and partial helmets that initially left a lot of their faces bare. One on the B-E explorer wore “more casual human clothing:” dark green-black pants and jacket, black shirt with a collar. Shoes had heavy treads, designed for rough planetary terrain. Hair looked more normal, with reddish brown tight curls cut close to the head.

·         Targets and colonists: gray skin is a progressive condition, not natural or cosmetic effect, some still look like humans who were altered rather than aliens. Not all who still looked somewhat human were fighting on the same side. Most of fighting group wore “the kind of rough work clothing normal for colonies or mining, a cheaper, more battered version of ART’s environment suits with hoods but no breathing gear, or a mix of clean work clothes, plus a random collection of what looked like old uniforms and protective gear.”

 Barish-Estranza, Eletra, Ras, and Supervisor Leonide

·         B-E uniforms are red and brown with corporate logos

·         Eletra and Ras both wear B-E uniforms that are disheveled and torn.

·         Eletra has brown skin and dark hair that reaches at least to her shoulder blades.

·         Supervisor Leonide has “mid brown” skin “that was common to a large percentage of humans,” with an artificially smooth, even tone that indicated cosmetic enhancement. Dark hair wrapped around the top of her head and she has small metallic and gemstones set in the rim of one exposed ear.

 Augments

·         According to MB, are “supposed to help humans do things they couldn’t do otherwise, like interface with the feed more completely or store memory archives.”

·         Augments that aren’t feed interfaces are meant to correct physical injuries or illnesses.

·         Augments are meant to be helpful. Implants are different (MB compares implants to governor modules, something the person has little to no control over)

·         Normal augment would have filaments extending directly into the human nervous system. Some augmented humans may have dataports/plug-in interfaces in the back of their necks, since MB is able to pass off its dataport as one of these often.

·         Normal augmented human (augmented with feed) has interface built into brain; non-augmented humans have removable interfaces (excluding implants, which seem to be regular interfaces just not removable without surgery).

·         Augments and constructs work with “machine-readable code written into human DNA”

·         Augmented humans can work more fully in the feed; MB thinks that the drugged-up GrayCris assassins wouldn’t be possible to control with a removable interface, so the controller must be augmented (and this proves correct).

 Other Human Personal Tech

·         Un-augmented humans can’t access the feed unless their interface is working and attached properly. Tapan’s in-ear interface was taken out while ART’s MedSystem worked, and she had to put it back in before she contacted her partners.

·         “Normal external interfaces for humans were designed to look like all kinds of things, from carved natural wood to skin tones to jewels or stones or enamel art pieces to actual plain metal with a brand logo.”

·         Human voices on the feed sound like their physical voices, and can show emotions. Humans (and augmented humans) usually subvocalize when talking on the feed.

·         During killware attack in ES, Pin-Lee, Mensah and two crewmembers each has portable manual feed interfaces they used to shore up SecSystem; allowing them feed access without using their personal on-body interfaces.

·         MB says in AC that killware and malware can’t do anything to humans or augmented humans; the killware attack in ES hurts augmented humans enough that one needs rescue breathing. This could be MB’s lack of knowledge, or it could be because the ES killware is rare, essentially a disembodied bot and an extremely uncommon/unheard of tactic.

Other Bots/Machines

·         Agricultural bot: almost 10 meters (~32 feet) tall, covered with spikes. Lower body has 10 long spider limbs for moving around without crushing anything, upper part is a long curving “neck” with a long head also covered in spikes

·         Pathfinders: like drone for space. Active scanners that can zip around a planet collecting environmental information and terrain imaging, plus looking for comm signals, possible energy sources, and hostiles. Can relay audio as ART uses it to threaten Targets. Very expensive.

·         Drones used by NE Targets: model MB is unfamiliar with. Round and as big around as MB’s head, any holes for cameras or weapons hidden despite size. Made of stealth material (or pattern) that can’t be spotted by camera, but regular vision OK.

·         Drones used in ASR, pulled from the hopper: “They were the small kind, barely a centimeter across; no weapons, just cameras.”

·         Also in ASR, MB mentions that there also exist drones that aren’t much bigger than the hopper drones but include a small pulse weapon (but as far as availability through the company, you have to get an upper tier package)

·         MB’s regular drones: small enough that it can have a flock (at least a couple dozen?) land on it and not impede movement in an EVAC suit. MB mentions technique where it can have drone accelerate a drone straight at a target’s face, and if hit an eye or an ear it goes straight to the brain, so probably fairly small. They are also easy to visually overlook when perched in a room recording people, or sneaking through a doorway. They’re also easy to store in MB’s many pockets.