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flowerandblood · 3 days

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Flowers and Thorns (1/2)

[ canon • Aemond x courtesan • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, working in the brothel, mention of murder, kind of trauma ]

[ description: Prince Aemond arrives unexpectedly on the Street of Silk, and she is chosen by Madame to soothe his stoic, stony nature and give him what he needs. ]

After a few seconds from the trailer that changed our lives, this short little series was created. No more thoughts.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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"You've grown so much." She heard Madame's soft voice, looking curiously with several young girls at the figure of a man barely visible behind a red translucent curtain.

One of them is going to make a pretty penny that night, she thought with amusement. She glanced at her friend Lysa and noticed, seeing the mocking smile on her face, that she was thinking the same thing.

Madame was their guardian, if you could call it that, but unlike most of the owners of the taverns on The Street of Silk, she was concerned with quality, not quantity.

They, meaning her girls, were women of culture and elegance, not simple whores, and that was how they preferred to think of themselves, giving their flesh only in the process.

She blinked, hearing that Madame was answered by an uncomfortable silence, the newcomer's head turned to the side in impatience.

She thought the man was very tense and frustrated.

A common reaction to feeling embarrassed.

Madame knew what to do in such cases.

"Do you have any particular requests?" She asked softly, their heard the man hum quietly.

"Mmm. I will rely…on your taste." She heard a low, hoarse, slightly trembling voice that sent shivers through her.

Madame nodded and led him to one of the most expensive chambers. After a moment, she returned and approached them, sighing quietly, eyeing them one by one, as if she were pondering the choice of the right juicy fruit.

"The matter is very delicate. The King's younger brother is shy and withdrawn. His lack of an eye does not help him. Come, sweet girl." She purred, extending her hand to her, and she giggled, smiling broadly, thinking she had never seen anyone from the royal family in the flesh before.

Her friends slipped fresh field flowers into her hair and rubbed oils on her neck, as if they were preparing her for her wedding night − they put on her translucent purple robe, one of the most expensive they had, her dark hair partly pinned up in a bun at the back of her head.

She wondered with a fast-beating heart if the Prince resembled the King.

She had never had the opportunity to lie with King Aegon but from what she had heard, he had a taste in depravity that she was not a lover of.

Madame, however, would not have chosen her if it had been the same in this case, and as she trusted her judgement, she went to his chamber with a light heart.

As she closed the door behind her, she caught sight of his tall figure standing in front of the mirror − he turned towards her, frightened by her sudden presence, his face pale, his nostrils twitching rapidly in an anxious breath, his hands entwined on his back clenched into fists.

He was more than tense.

He was terrified.

Something was happening inside his head.

She bowed without a word, knowing that men of his kind did not like pretense.

She decided that she would not approach him until he commanded her to do so himself.

He swallowed hard, turning his face towards the bed, as if wondering what he was actually doing.

The most devoted to the Seven of all the Queen's children seeking comfort in the brothel.

She thought it was nothing to be ashamed of, but she knew that he did not crave her advice.

He thought for certain that she would approach him and coquet him, whispering about what she would do with him and how much she craved him, but she just moved ahead towards the other part of the room, watching him curiously. His gaze followed her.

"How old are you?" He asked reluctantly.

"Old enough, Your Grace. Madam doesn't hurt children." She replied meekly, bestowing him with a warm, comforting smile. His gaze softened − he hummed at her words and nodded.

Only after a moment did his gaze sweep over her entire figure, allowing himself to look at her. He swallowed hard again, his lips pressed together in a thin line as if he was impatient.

"May I undo your tunic, Your Grace? You'll be uncomfortable in it." She said, and he looked deeply into her eyes.

She thought he had an extremely intriguing face − he looked like a statue, his jaw long and sharply defined just like his nose, his mouth full, capable of caressing any woman wonderfully.

She felt a squeeze between her thighs at that thought.

His eye patch or what he wore under it didn't matter to her, but he didn't know that.

He nodded, lowering his gaze to the floor.

His thoughts were still fleeing somewhere far away.

She approached him slowly with a quiet rustling of her robe and didn't dare look at him as she reached her hands into the buckles of his tunic, slowly undoing them one by one.

She could smell his pleasant scent, the fact that he had taken a bath, his warm, quickened breath enveloping the top of her head.

He still kept his hands behind his back and didn't dare touch her.

She thought with a smile that she would use one of her fantasies, her being a lord's wife, using her skills during their wedding night to win his heart.

That night she didn't want to just be a whore.

It seemed to her that he didn't want that either.

He helped her by sliding the material off his shoulders, and she took it from him and placed it on the table standing next to them. She shuddered as his knuckles ran over her cheek, a wave of heat and desire surging through her spine and lower abdomen.

She looked up at him and met his dark, deep gaze, his full lips slightly parted.

"Your father sold you here?" He whispered, for some reason needing to get closer to her, to get to know her before what was about to happen.

She understood him and it occurred to her why Madame had chosen her.

She was able to take her time, to give the most shy of their clients the comfort and reassurance she herself so desperately needed.

"Doesn't every woman eventually get sold by her father to some man?" She asked, the corner of his mouth twitching in something that might resemble a smile, a glint in his eye.

"Mmm."

He felt it.

Some kind of twisted, helpless bond.

He kissed her, enclosing her face in his broad hands, rough from wielding the sword, surely. She gasped under her breath, feeling her nipples harden at the thought of how gentle this caress was − his lips, full, warm and wet, ran and brushed hers with the quiet click of their saliva.

She dared to place her small hand on his wrist and he sighed quietly, moving closer to her, deliberately shortening the distance between them − his body slamming into hers, his half-hard erection pulsing softly in his breeches.

She hugged him around the waist, allowing him to feel through the fabric of their garments the pleasing shape of her plump, sweet breasts − he drew in a loud breath feeling it, one of his hands traveled down her back, his fingers tentatively clamped on her buttock.

"− yes −" She whispered into his mouth, wanting him to know that she desired this, that she was not driven by pity or any other reason that might disgust him.

He murmured into her mouth at her words and moaned low when her tongue licked his, encouraging him to caress her more boldly. In response, he caught her under her hips and lifted her up − she giggled quietly, throwing her arms around his neck, a look of peace on his face, but also of pride, satisfaction and curiosity.

As he laid her down on the bed, he pulled the eye patch from his face as if it was her he was exposing, apparently expecting a reaction for which he might punish her, fuck her like a disobedient little whore − she, however, felt a squeeze between her thighs at the sight of the precious blue stone gleaming in his eye socket, her fingers ran over the line of his scar making him draw in air loudly.

With a quick, impatient gesture, he drew her hips closer to him, forcing her to spread her thighs before him. He reached into the material of his breeches, untying them, looking at her piercingly, his breathing quick and raspy.

"− show me your breasts −" He commanded, and she felt his words deep inside her. Immediately she slipped the material of her robe off her shoulders, his lips parted wider in desire at the sight of her little, puffy nipples.

"− fuck −" He breathed out, squeezing his long, throbbing erection in his hand, just looking at her.

She knew he didn't want her touching him, that if she threatened his privacy or comfort she would ruin everything.

"− do you want to feel it inside you? −" He gasped, and she nodded eagerly, looking at him expectantly, breathing loudly as he did, excited.

"− there you go − shhh − no, look at me −" He exhaled, guiding the fat head of his cock against her swollen slit, leaking from her wetness − her body resisted him for a moment, his eye closed as he opened her wide with her cry of exertion.

She looked at his face where droplets of sweat glistened, his lips swollen with desire, his long white hair tickling her face.

"− it's half way in − are you able to fit it whole? −" He muttered, as if asking her permission, and she nodded quickly, dreaming of nothing else now.

For some reason she wanted him to do this to her.

She tilted her head back seeing his grin of satisfaction, his hips impatiently thrusting deeper into her tight, fleshy interior, filling her to the brim.

"− I'm impressed − maybe I should visit you more often? − you seem shy for −" He exhaled but didn't finish, as if he decided it wasn't the best time to offend her, a loud sigh left their throats when he finally put it all the way in.

"− a woman of your kind −" He gasped.

"− I didn't choose this life −" She mumbled before she had time to think what had actually left her mouth. She saw his pupil dilate in surprise and she thought she had made a huge mistake.

His whole body froze, his cock pulsed greedily deep inside her.

"− nor I mine −"

She smiled at his words with some kind of gratitude, from which he swallowed hard. He surprised her when he leaned down and pressed his forehead against hers, their hands gripping their cheeks, his hot breath enveloping her skin.

"− I'm going to accelerate now −" He exhaled and she nodded, feeling a shrug at the thought of how much, though he certainly didn't think of it that way, he cared that she didn't push him away now, that she didn't look at him with disgust or resentment.

They both groaned as his thighs began to slam loudly against her buttocks, again and again pounding his already fully hard, thick erection into her, her hands clenched on his back, trying to find a rhythm with him, a wonderful shiver ran down her back each time he teased a wonderful spot deep inside her.

His body pressed her against the bed, which began to creak loudly beneath them, his breathing heavy as her legs intertwined on his back, allowing him to thrust into her as deeply as he desired, his lips licking and brushing her mouth in the wettest, warmest, messiest kisses she'd ever experienced in her entire life.

"− ah −" He exhaled helplessly, feeling her little cunt begin to clench around his manhood in fulfilment and suck him inside, soaking him wet, intensifying his sensation, a sweet, innocent, girlish moan of delight ripped from her throat.

Their hands wandered blindly over their hot bodies, his fingers again and again returning to her breasts, finally clamping down on them when she felt he was close, their bodies all sticky from their shared moisture.

"− yes − yes, oh gods, yes −" He breathed out, clenching his eyes with an expression of some immense relief that surprised her − he drew in air deeply, as if he were choking, and then tear after tear began to run down his face hot with emotion, his eye clenched as he burst out suddenly into sobs, as if what flowed out of him was not just his seed.

"− I killed him − I killed him −" He whimpered, clenching his hands on either side of her head into fists, his hot tears one by one began to flow onto her cheeks. He covered his face with his hands, as if he didn't want her to look at it.

"− gods − gods, forgive me −"

She put her arms around his head and he let her pull him close, snuggling immediately into her body, his face pressed against her neck.

Never before in her life had she witnessed someone next to her burst into such helpless, almost childlike crying.

"− shhh − I know − I know it's scary −" She whispered, he drew in a deep breath as if he was suffocating.

"− if you tell anyone about this −" He hissed maliciously.

"− never −"

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wheeboo · 7 hours

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to love and be loved | jeon wonwoo

SYNOPSIS. in which wonwoo tells you about his first (and only) love. PAIRING. jeon wonwoo x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers WARNINGS. self-doubt talk on reader's end, self-indulgent wooweee, this was painfully hard to write lmao n have no idea if any of this makes sense WORD COUNT. 1.6k

requested from anon: Hiiiiiiii first of all congratssss for you 2k. For the event, ive been thinking the same exact story with wonwoo and #6 from list 3 - #6: “You’re not hard to love, nor are you unlovable. You just… Need to let me in, and let me show you you’re just as worthy of love as anyone else is.”

notes: i'd quite literally do anything to have these kinds of talks with wonwoo ☹️☹️. anyway i hope u all enjoy this <3 hits close to home >< tysm anon hehe <3

join the 2k celebration!

"Hey, uh, Wonwoo?"

"Mhm?"

"...have you ever been in love?"

A cricket chirps into the evening air right after you ask, and you suddenly feeling like you're holding in a long-winded breath. Then you hear a loud crunch by Wonwoo from the crackers he was snacking on, and you blink up to him wiping away the corner of his mouth. There's the slightest glimpse of a curve to his lips that you manage to catch.

He silently offers you a cracker in your direction, the anticipating silence between the two of you growing thickly. You take the cracker from his hand, muttering a quiet thanks, before nibbling on it absentmindedly.

The night is absolutely beautiful right now, swearing that you could spot and make out the constellations above if you squinted hard enough. The distant chirping of crickets is the only sound that breaks the silence as the coolness of the night rolls in, carrying with it slight breeze that whispers through the leaves overhead the balcony of your apartment.

"I have."

You swiftly turn your head to him, eyes widening intriguingly. "You have?"

The chuckle that leaves him is somewhat awkward, a tad bit hesitant. He crumples up the bag of crackers and sets it aside, chugging down the last sips of his drink and setting down the empty can as well.

"Did you... ever confess to them?" You ask, suddenly feeling curious, though there's a bit of disappointment at the tip of your tongue.

You swear you could see the thoughts swirling around his head. Wonwoo keeps his eyes fixed up to the night sky. There's a distant look in his eyes, as though he's peering into some past moment that only he can see, before he shakes his head, a faint smile crossing over his lips.

"No, I didn't," he answers calmly. "They were too far away, so... I just chose to admire them from afar."

You lean back against the wall behind, your shoulder momentarily brushing against his. "Did they know you?"

Wonwoo purses his lips together. "Mhm."

"Well, you missed your chance!" You exclaim, prodding him playfully with your elbow. "I can't believe you let them get away, dude. Like right through the little cracks of your fingers. You could've been in a relationship by now."

This earns you a low, playful scoff from Wonwoo. "Are you assuming that they loved me back?"

Immediately, you feel the heat crawl up your neck and to the tips your ears.

"Well, um... Yeah, I am," You admit sheepishly, letting out a small sigh. "I mean, who wouldn't fall for a guy like you? You're nice and... charming. I think anyone would be lucky to be loved by you."

There's a silence that falls between the two of you, one simply more than just comfortable yet denser than ever, because the thought of being loved by Wonwoo seems to linger longer than you notice. You steal a glance at him, seeing his face still turned upwards towards the night sky and the moonlight reflecting on his glasses. Strands of his dark hair blow across his forehead in the breeze. You can't quite decipher his expression, but a flicker of something𑁋perhaps surprise, maybe even amusement𑁋dances on his features for a brief moment.

He finally turns back to you, a small, hesitant smile playing on his lips. "You think so?"

"Yeah," You confirm, nodding lightly. "Absolutely."

Wonwoo still keeps his eyes on you as you glance away, seeing the way you fidget with your hands in your lap and smoothing out the creases in your pants nervously. He glances down at his own hand and back at yours, lips pursing together in contemplation, but only folds his fingers back together the second you reach over him to grab the crumpled-up bag of crackers. He feels a little bit too warm in his sweater right now.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

A crunch echoes through the air. Then another. And another.

"I've just been kinda... thinking a lot lately, I guess," You reply slowly, quietly. "And it sort of makes me sound desperate in a way, but there are times I just wonder if, um... if anyone has ever felt the same way about me."

Wonwoo tilts his head slightly. "Love?"

"Not just love, but... seeing me, you know?" Being able to talk about this out loud makes your chest feel heavy. "Since it's hard these days to find someone who sees you for who you are, not for who you can be. I... I just feel like I'm hard to love sometimes. Hell, maybe even unlovable. It’s hard to break out of that mindset when things get hard again.”

A thoughtful quietness seeps through the nighttime breeze, which sends goosebumps up and down your skin, but you don't mind it because you know that Wonwoo is listening either way. And the more you think about it𑁋the thought of knowing that he's here, with his presence is right next to you𑁋it seems to comfort you more than you notice.

There's a small hum of acknowledgement that you hear from his end, unsure if it's just your imagination or if he's actually responding as your mind feels a little jumbled up right now. But then Wonwoo shifts beside you, his arm lightly pressing against yours.

"But I... I think I've reached a point in time where I can say I love myself a little more than a few years ago, or last year, or even just yesterday," You continue to ramble a bit aimlessly, chuckling dryly to yourself. "It’d be nice to share that with someone too, you know? To finally get over this loneliness. But it's not entirely a sad loneliness or a happy one. It's, like, uh... both put together, I guess."

A few moments of silence pass. You feel Wonwoo gently nudge your leg with his.

"I'm proud of you."

You peer up to look at him, mind nearly going blank from the way he's gazing at you. Or maybe it's just the moonlight that's making him appear so... picturesque. "What for?"

"For loving yourself, silly," Wonwoo muses almost cheekily, and the delighted tone that you catch makes your stomach leap. "Even if it's just by a small percentage than yesterday, it's still okay. You're doing good. I want you to know that."

You're doing good. It's just those three singular words that has heat forming in your eyes that you somehow manage to blink back before anything could spill, and hearing it come from Wonwoo feels different. There's a vulnerable sweetness to them, a sincerity that catches you off-guard. You force a smile𑁋a grateful one, nonetheless𑁋before it shifts into a frown.

And Wonwoo catches it right away. "What's wrong?"

Your lips form a thin line, pressing together in thought. You refuse to acknowledge why you think your heart feels slightly... jealous.

"I hope whoever you loved before knows how lucky they are one day," You say to him. "if you're still in love with them, that is..."

Wonwoo stills for a minute, pensively. "I am."

"You are?"

"I never stopped."

You stare at him for a few moments, an eyebrow lifted in disbelief at him, before crossing your arms together and letting out a small, incredulous laugh. "Then you should've said that you're in love with them, idiot."

Wonwoo sucks in a breath.

"I'm in love with you."

You blink instinctively, once, twice, three times, momentarily thinking that Wonwoo's presence might somehow disappear into thin air. But he's still there𑁋a certain softness in the way he's looking at you, a gentleness that seems to wrap around you like a warm embrace𑁋waiting for you. His words suspend heavily in the air, and maybe the world is also holding its breath just as you are too.

"And... You're not hard to love, nor are you unlovable. You're far from that," Wonwoo continues, voice tender, fond, and soft as a lullaby. "You just... need to let me in, and let me show you you're just as worthy of love as anyone else is."

You could only sit merely frozen at this point, throat tightened and jaw dropped in shock among many other weird, fuzzy feelings happening throughout your body. Something between relief and disbelief. Hope and hesitancy. Comfort and uncertainty. You have the capacity to run yet you choose not to𑁋you're letting him in, letting the warmth of his words seep into the cracks of your doubt.

Your mind reels dizzily, almost like the world has been tilting away off-balance.

"You... You're in love with me?" You repeat, almost dumbly, because you cannot seem to fathom anything that's been said in the past few moments. "All that talk about earlier... about who you..."

Wonwoo hangs his head down low, rubbing at his neck in a bashful manner. "It was about you."

"And you never... you never told me?"

"Honestly, I'd like to think a part of it was you being a tad bit oblivious." And then he just simply grins, his nose crinkling along with it. "But that's okay. Watching you slowly figure yourself out made me realise that maybe I needed to find myself a little more too."

You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out, and you could feel the heat of embarrassment spreading painfully throughout your face. At first, you have the urge to brush it all away as a silly misunderstanding. Maybe laugh it off, retreat back inside, and go to sleep pretending all of this didn't happen. But the sincerity in his eyes stops you.

You lick your dry lips, the cool night air beginning to feel a lot less suffocating.

"Did you?" You ask vaguely, before shaking your head repeating, "Did you... find yourself?"

Wonwoo lets his eyes roam over you, taking you in, before leaning back on the wall and bringing his gaze back up toward the night sky. Your eyes refuse to leave him, and perhaps this is what it's like to admire someone from afar and close up all at once.

The two of you take a deep, deliberate exhale together.

"Yeah," he answers, smiling softly. "I think I found myself right where I want to be."

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pinkeos · 23 hours

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Just moments with some of the HSR men

Characters: Aventurine, Blade, Sunday, Jing Yuan, Dr Ratio, Welt

Warning/s: Slight angst in blade and ratio's parts

Notes: this is my last post before i go offline for like a few hours until our wifi is back🫡

you were holding each other, lazing around in bed with nothing else to do for the day, when aventurine told you his name. kakavasha, he told you. and he told you to repeat his name when you first whispered it to him, the identity and name he kept hidden from everyone else sounds sweeter and better when it was you. ever since, it'd became a usual occurrence that he wouldn't turn to you when you call him by aventurine. the smile on his face when he turns to you after you call him by his real name is much better though.

blade doesn't even flinch when you gently wrap the bandages around his wound. he'd already told you before that it was unnecessary. that, against his will, the wounds would heal by themselves. but the frown on your face pinched at his heart, and so, he remained silent as you worked on patching him up. he doesn't like the look on your face, tears brimming in your eyes at the sight of his overlapping wounds. and so, he leans forward to wordlessly connect his lips with yours, his thumb wiping your tears away.

the way your eyebrows furrowed in concentration was quite adorable in sunday’s eyes. he basked in your undivided attention and the tenderness of your touch. the halovian could feel how you thought of your every move as your fingers glided over the feathers of his wings, pruning him delicately and straining your ear for any sort of noise of discomfort from your lover. with a smile, he told you to relax. the way you slightly jumped at his sudden voice made him chuckle into his closed fist.

it was always satisfying for the general of the luofu to watch you skillfully brew tea, he'd told you many times that you could probably do it effortlessly with your eyes closed. you'd only roll your eyes at this and sit across him, engaging in a conversation about both past and future. the topic would stray from one thing to the other, from his old friends, to the current ones, and to a certain lieutenant. jing yuan would fondly talk about how much of a parent you were to yanqing, reveling in the redness of your cheeks at his flowery words.

you remembered the day the letter of invitation from the intelligentsia guild first came, and how ratio discarded his plaster head as he waited for you to finish reading through the paper. you were leaning against that headboard that day, reading before he came home and presented you with it. without a word, you spread your arms and he crawled onto the bed, leaning his head on your chest as your fingers ran through his hair. and he was thankful you didn't give him a look of pity, only understanding and love as you peppered his face with kisses.

your praises for the drawings plastered over welt's sketchbook were never empty, and the smile on your face and the blush on your cheeks when you come across his sketches of you never failed to make him smile as well. you’d offer to draw him yourself, and you'd shyly hand it over to him after you declared you were done. it doesn't matter your skill level, he was more than happy you wanted to draw him. you continue flipping through his sketchbook, listening to him talk about some of them, his voice eventually lulling you to sleep with how soothing it was and with the warmth of his embrace.

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail fanfic #x reader #dr ratio #veritas ratio #aventurine #welt #sunday #blade #jing yuan #dr ratio x reader #aventurine x reader #blade x reader #jing yuan x reader #sunday x reader #welt x reader

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hornychristianprincess · 3 days

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NSFW A-Z: ANTON

a/n: this is just my personal analysis based off my perception and observations of anton's personality. all of this is fiction/fantasy

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Anton can be initially trash at aftercare. He’ll still be trying to process his own emotions about what just happened before he can even think to tend to yours. He has a tendency to assume things so a part of him will just think you’re fine until you tell him otherwise. With some instruction, he can improve. Once he gets in the habit of doing it, you’ll never have to ask again. I also think this cutie would be prone to shyly asking you questions about the sex, wanting to know that it was as good for you as it was for him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Anton spends a lot of time in the gym so I think he has a lot of pride in several parts of his body, but most strongly his broad shoulders and muscular arms. Being that he was once a professional swimmer, this is the part of his body stands out the most. It represents his hard work and unique talent.

On his partner, I feel like Anton would be too overwhelmed to pick one thing. He’ll like everything about you, even things that are nonsensical like your ankle or the back of your knees.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Anton will have a hell of an orgasm if you let him come in your mouth and swallow it. Something about it is almost gross to him, and in that way it turns him on even more. He’s also kind of curious about fucking you raw and coming inside of you; I could see him experimentally pushing it back in with his fingers, something exciting about seeing a part of himself oozing out of you. Most times though, he’ll settle for finishing in a condom, especially because I get the feeling he has a lot of anxiety about getting someone pregnant on accident.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Deep down, I think Anton is curious at the idea of degrading his partner, not just verbally, but physically too. He has sometimes sadistic fantasies of slapping someone on the face with his cock, face-fucking someone to the point of tears, and even watching you get ravaged by someone else. These thoughts are paradoxical for him though, because he simultaneously would lose respect for someone who would allow themselves to be treated that way. He’s also really nice so could never bring himself to talking down to someone he loves. So for now, these are things that he enjoys in fantasy and porn only.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

If Anton’s had sex, it was with a long-term girlfriend or close-friend-turned-lover. He needs to have an intimate level of closeness with someone before he’s able to even think about taking that step.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes cowgirl the most. It takes the pressure off of him to have to take the lead in your pleasure, he gets a great view of your body, and you’re able to maintain the pace. I think he’s also very turned on by doggy style, something about the view of your ass and the pleasure he’s able to deliver from this angle making it appealing to him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Anton makes jokes to cover up mistakes or moments where he feels extra nervous/awkward. Once he’s inside you though, he becomes so focused and overwhelmed that he couldn’t laugh even if he found something funny.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Most times, Anton can’t be bothered to groom himself. Once he has a sexual partner, he’ll start to become self-conscious and put more effort into shaving himself regularly. He honestly relies on his partner to tell him how they want him to look.

On his partner, he doesn’t care. I think he’s feels fortunate to even have access to pussy, so how it looks is irrelevant to him.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

I think Anton is still working out what intimacy looks like for him. He doesn’t have the maturity or the sexual experience to know how intimacy should feel. It takes him a while to even feel comfortable having sex without overthinking his every word and movement. For him to get to the point where he’s accessing the emotions required for intimacy, he’d definitely need time and a lot of leadership from his partner.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I think he’s a little bit embarrassed about jacking off, but can’t help but feel called to do it anyway. He does it quite often as a way to let off sexual frustration. He’s motivated to masturbate after a particularly awkward interaction with a crush. If he doesn’t let off steam in this way, he’ll just be sent into a spiral of overthinking until he goes crazy.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Recording: Anton would be pleased if his partner agreed or initiated the recording of their sex. I think something about watching himself from outside of his body increases his confidence about how well he did. He’s able to consume it in the same way he would consume porn. I also think he’s more motivated to try harder when he knows it will be on video.

Mirror Sex: Similar to recording, there’s something about being able to see himself in action that increases his confidence and thus makes him try even harder. He likes seeing how he looks from your point of view and adjusting accordingly. Moreover, I could see him making little innocent observations about how you look in the mirror, saying things like, “Do you like watching yourself cry for me?” and “You look so pretty like this.”

Anal: Similar to what I said earlier about him wanting to come in your mouth, I think Anton is turned on by things that he views as slightly gross or forbidden. The idea of you letting him use your body in this way feels like the ultimate privilege. It feels like his birthday every time you tell him it’s okay for him to touch you there.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s a simple guy – the bedroom is comfortable, safe, and private.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He’s turned on by someone who takes care of themselves physically and puts in the effort to look good for him. Lingerie, perfume, and makeup are all things that make him feel giddy and excited at the thought of fucking you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I think he’s not attracted to women who are just as shy as him, simply because with him also being an introvert, you’re at a stalemate with no one there to take the lead. I also think he’d be opposed to inviting anyone else into the bedroom. He’s overwhelmed enough as it is with just the two of you. The last thing he needs is to have anyone else. Moreover, with him still trying to work through his own confidence about his sexual abilities, seeing someone else fuck you would just drain him of all life energy.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Anton really enjoys giving head. There is something comforting to him about being nuzzled between your legs and lapping at your wetness. He gets very turned on by giving head to the point of sometimes coming in his pants. He also can get carried away sometimes, overstimulating you and not realizing it until you have to push him off of you. He’ll be so confused and apologetic until you explain that the only reason you’re pulling away is because it was too good.

I honestly think Anton isn’t too partial to receiving head. He worries a lot about hurting you in the process, especially because he’s prone to unconsciously bucking into your mouth. Moreover, he feels the best when he’s able to make you feel good, and would prefer to spend his time inside of you than watching you suck him off.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s honestly all over the place when it comes to speed, one moment you’ll be riding him and he’ll tell you to go faster, and in the next moment, he gets overwhelmed and tells you to slow down. Over time, he gets better at developing patience and fucking you slower so that the sex will last longer. Once he makes you come, though, he loses all motivation to be slow and just starts rutting into you until he comes.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

With the way Anton struggles to control himself sometimes, sex is frequently quick, but he’s always motivated to go again if he feels like he could’ve done better. It’s too easy to convince him to have a quickie at home right before you go out somewhere – the temptation is too strong to resist.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Anton is sometimes gullible and easily persuaded, so I feel like he could be convinced into having sex somewhere risky. However, don’t expect him to be at his usual form because the anxiety of potentially getting caught will prevent him from doing his best. He’ll be jumpy and become alert at the smallest sounds. Be prepared for him to back out entirely. Risky sex with Anton will only be successful if the conditions are right. Even so, I think Anton enjoys the thrill of doing something he feels like he’s not supposed to do.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

As I’ve already alluded to, I think his excitement and nerves can cause him to come pretty quickly, especially in those early days of a sexual relationship where he’s still getting to know his partner’s body and what they need to feel satisfied. However, he likes to please above all else, so if he feels like he wasn’t good enough the first time, he’ll want to keep going for another round until he can feel satisfied knowing the sex was good for both of you. The longer you’re together and the better he gets, the less of a need there will be to go for rounds.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Anton is intimated at the thought of using toys. Sex is already overwhelming enough for him, so he doesn’t need any additional things to have to consider. Similarly, I think he would be wary about having toys used on him. He would be scared and embarrassed at his own potential to react whinily (probably not a word but oh well yk what I mean) in response to such external stimulation.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

It’s never in the forefront of Anton’s mind to tease, but I think he can be a tease in a way that’s accidental. Sometimes because he’s trying to savor the moment, he’ll move really slow in a way that is excruciating for you. When he’s at his most confident, he’ll start flying at the mouth a bit more, making some teasing observations about how fucked-out you look. Still, I don’t see him as ever being a person who would intentionally withhold pleasure from his partner.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not loud in his daily life so I doubt he would be loud in the bedroom. In fact, he can be silent for so long sometimes that it can almost be intimidating. When he experiences pleasure, I think he’s the type to bite his lips or form his mouth into a straight line, making a hmpph kind of noise or sighing.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

It was Anton’s birthday, and at your lead, he had found himself sitting upright on the edge of the bed, a silk blindfold obscuring his vision. He could hear you finicking around in his nearby vicinity, the excitement of what was to come cause him to grow hard and stiff in his pants. He leaned back against the bed, awaiting you, relieved when he could feel the warmth of your presence. He heard you utter a tiny, “Ready?” before taking off the blindfold and revealing yourself in a matching, baby pink bra and panty set.

“Suprise,” you remarked casually, watching him chuckle a little as his eyes roamed your body. “Do you like it?” you asked, already knowing the answer as his hands reached out to hold your hips.

“I love it,” he replies, his eyes finally and almost regretfully leaving your body to find your face. “Is this my gift?” he asks with a hopeful smirk.

“Yes. You just have to unwrap it first,” you confirm, and then, as your eyes meet, you lean in to connect your lips in a kiss that starts off soft but becomes sordid as Anton builds his confidence with time.

In what feels relatively like only seconds, he has you completely naked and bent over the bed on all fours, his cock naked and pressed against your cunt with the knowledge that you’re on birth control. Just as he’s about to enter you, he pauses to reach for his phone. “Can I record this?”

“Of course, my love,” you permit, and with his phone on selfie camera and angled right in front of your face, you’re able to watch from the screen as Anton’s expression becomes intense and focused the moment he moves to push his cock inside of you.

Anton fucks into you purposefully, so big that it’s as if he’s digging into your stomach with each thrust. He takes occasional looks over at the phone that’s still actively recording you desperately taking his cock. He makes small adjustments each time he notices his image reflected on the phone screen, pulling your ass up higher or deepening your arch with the palm of his hand against your spine. When he observes your fucked out expression, he feels his lips twitch into a smirk as he remarks, “You fuck me so good. Look so hot bent over for me like this.”

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I am a big dick Anton truther, there is something about his tall build combined with the way he carries himself that just suggests monster cock in all respects.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Anton has a decently high sex drive and is pretty shitty at hiding it when he’s in a relationship. Close to everything will cause him to pop a boner, and once he acknowledges it, it won’t go away until he comes.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Like I said earlier, he’ll only be comfortable relaxing once he’s able to confirm that you were pleasantly satisfied. Once that’s happened, he’ll be so relieved that he’ll fall asleep relatively easily.

150 notes · View notes

loveneversleepss · 23 hours

Text

TROPE SERIES: Lee know

Brothers best friend

requested by @aakamiLee on wattpad

Pairing: enemy!Lee know x female reader

Trope: enemies to lovers, fake dating

Warnings: cursing, bickering, mean and nice nicknames, time jumps (bc im lazy), smut, protected sex (we're responsible for once), unprotected sex (Oopsie), oral sex, betrayal, yelling?

w.c: 10 k

There's a big difference between love and hate. Who you love and care for are forever in your heart, you'll follow them to the end of the earth. But hatred, it's made out of pure evil. It sinks into you until you can't push it out anymore. You deal with it in ways that aren't right. Until, you accept it. Make peace with it. Then that's when it goes away.

I guess that's why villains or enemies are seen as more powerful and better. Attractive sometimes too. Because they've made peace of their hate. They're gonna use it to fire themselves into getting what they want. Because they're not afraid. They'd let the world burn for what they love. Meanwhile hero will sacrifice what they love to save the world. And you'd choose the villain every time.

If there's anyone you have a strong hatred for, it's Lee know. Ever since you were a child, he had it out for you to embarrass you and tease you at any moment he could. On the way you'd dress, the way you talked, or the way you walked. He would say something about it. You didn't know what or why he always would make fun of you. What could possibly possess him to do that?

"Wow, y/n. Could you get anymore dorkier? Look at what you're wearing," he'd snicker.

There was never a moment he would spare you, or do anything to prove he was good. He was a bully, an enemy and you would never side with him. You promised that to yourself. But you'd hate to admit, he's gorgeous. Breath taking.

But there was one person who was disgusted by him and hated him even more than you did. Hyunjin. Your knight in shining armor. He was even more beautiful than Lee know.

"I know you're not talking with those tight jeans, Lee know." He came by your side and defended you. Lee know looked embarrassed on the spot.

You were thankful for him. You survived Lee knows bullying tactics thanks to him. He was your best friend all your childhood years. But he had to leave. You knew it wouldn't last. But you had hoped it would. The last day of elementary school, you dreaded it and wished it didn't come. But it did, and he moved away after that day.

"Don't worry, y/n. I'll come back for you, I will never forget my best friend." He hugged you tight and he whispered sweetly to you, "promise me you'll wait? Promise that you'll never have another boy at your side, I'm the only one for you." And you intended to keep that promise.

How the years fly by. Senior year. Graduation. This is the final year. The final time to experience everything you possibly can. And you will.

"Y/n!" You heard your name being called by your brother, Chan. He's practically legend at your school. He graduated a year ago. At your school, you have a record of seniors who experienced things no one else has before. He accomplished to host all senior parties. How does one even manage that?

You made your way down the stairs in your pajamas. "What?" You yelled back and made your way to the kitchen. "We're going out, don't burn down the house, and don't go anywhere." He said in a busy tone as he texted in his phone. You saw Leeknow standing next to Chan and you glanced at him confused. "Since when were you two friends? You don't even go to our school anymore, Chan." Chan made eye contact with Lee know and back to you. "Because I'm actually cool, unlike you, lil sis. I have friends and you so desperately need to get out more." He slipped away before you could answer and you glared in his direction.

You turned your focus back on Lee know as stared at you with a smirk. "Cute pjs," he joked and you rolled your eyes. "Well excuse me that I don't look like a supermodel in the morning." He seemed amused and leaned over the table, "it's noon and Saturday. Why don't you go out with us, huh? Get put of your comfort zone, gain a social life or something." You scoffed and took a couple steps closer, "I have a life and friends. I don't need to be drinking and partying all the time." He straightened his body up and crossed his arms, "name one friend you have." He was skeptical of you, you have to admit. Making friends is not an easy task for you.

"Hyunjin," you said confidently. He laughed practically in your face. "That loser? He moved away a long time ago, it's time you move on sweetheart." You were done with the conversation and flipped him off as you walked away. He rushed to stop you, leaning against the wall before the stairs. "Come on, get ready. It'll be fun." That's all you need. To attend a party with your mortal enemy.

"No thanks." You shinned a fake smile at him and you walked up the stairs. "Jeez what a loner," he mumbled and you looked down at your pajamas. Suddenly feeling self conscious. Maybe you should start going out more. You stopped mid way on the stairs and he had begun to walk away. "Do you really think it would be fun?" He turned back around and rose an eyebrow mischievously. "Yes, it would." He crossed his arms, you immediately noticed his veins and the tone of his muscles appearing. You have to admit, if he wasn't your mortal enemy, you would find him attractive.

He followed your eye path to his arms and cleared his throat. "Just go get ready loser." You frowned and continued going up the stairs and got ready.

You peaked around the corner and saw him leaning against the wall in the kitchen, waiting for you. "Yeah, Chan. It's fine I can take her. I'll be there soon." He hung up and you cleared your throat. He turned his attention up to you and smiled slightly, you began to walk down the steps with a slight shyness. He slowly made his way towards you and... He wolf whistles at you.

"Okay, ew." You rose your hand and made a face of disgust. He smiled. "It's just nice to see you actually try to fit in for once." The backhanded compliment hit you in the face like a truck. You huffed and crossed your arms, "why can't you just say I look pretty? You don't have to insult me." His expression dropped and his eyes softened, "okay I'm sorry. You look pretty." The Lee know apologizing for once in his life? You're shocked and frankly, scared. He must want something. "Okay now you're being strangely nice, what is it that you want? Girls? Money?"

He smirked as he looked down at your hands. "Did I maybe convince you to go out with me out of jealousy that I would get with a girl?" He slowly moved to the first step as you walked down to him. How the hell did he come to that conclusion? Delusional. "Are you jealous, little y/n?" He leaned against the wall. You laughed in disbelief and crossed your arms. "Of course not, no, I'm not jealous." He smirked and licked his lips, "Uh huh." He sighed heavily, "Just admit it, you're in love with me." You mock a laugh at him, "Um, no."

He raises an eyebrow at you, "Is that so?" He steps closer to you, almost toppling over you, "even when I do this?" He places a lock of your hair behind your ear and stares into your eyes, you try to ignore the heart beating fast in your chest. "Just leave me alone, jerk!" He laughs softly to himself as you push him away. "You're hot when you're mad." You narrow your eyes at him with annoyance as you walk away. He always does things like that just to get you flustered, you should be able to say you're used to it but you're not. He makes you nervous and barely able to stand when he touches you. You don't know why he has that effect on you but he does. And you hate yourself for it.

~~~

You'd never would've imagined in a hundred years that you would be in a car with Lee Know right now. It's frightening really. "So, what is all good about that Hyunjin guy? You seem to be in love with him or something." You rolled your eyes and continued looking out the window, "i'm not in love with him, he was just really nice to me." He scoffed and sat up straighter in his seat, "you're obsessed with him because he was nice to you? God, y/n, you really need to go to this party." You huffed and sat more back in the seat. You eventually arrived and heard the music booming in the distance, he parked neatly. But he hasn't motioned to leaving yet, awaiting your move. You always pondered a question and never had the guts to say it before to him, but you're feeling pretty bold right now.

"Why do you hate me?" You looked over your shoulder at him, he was clenching his jaw hard. "Who said I do?" He turned to look at you two, since when has he had that sparkle in his eyes? It's mesmerizing. He looked down to his water bottle in the cup holder and decided to take a sip. "Are you fucking with me?" He practically choked at your bluntness and hit his chest a couple times. "I mean you have made every single thing I've ever done incredibly hard and made fun of me every chance you could." He set down the water bottle and looked into your eyes once again, "it was the only way I could get your attention." You shook your head at him. "There are other ways of getting my attention, being mean is not one of them." You opened the door and slammed it shut in annoyance, he followed closely behind which annoyed you even more.

You walked into the party and realized, this is definitely not your element. "Scared, little one?" Lee know whispered into your ear. "Just not my element, can you get me something to drink?" He looked guilty all of a sudden and licked his smooth lips, "so uh. About what I said about you basically getting out of your comfort zone. Maybe drinking should not be one of them." You wanted so badly to beat him up. Rip him apart to shreds. "What? Come on, I need to unwind." You faced him now and shot puppy dog eyes at him, "pretty please?" He stayed silent for a while, just looking down at you. "Okay, I'll be back. Stay put."

Yeah, no way you're staying put. You took the opportunity when he left to explore around, leading into a den in the house. You became face to face with a man with long black hair, kissing a woman on the couch. You instantly recognized him, Hyunjin. He broke away from the kiss with an amused smile and the girl noticed you and stared with a judging look, he followed her gaze and laid eyes on you.

What. The. Fuck. "Y/n?" You turned away quickly and bumped into Lee knows silhouette, knocking your drink all over himself. "Ugh, dammit y/n." He noticed your face and immediately searched around for the cause. Lee Know's gaze locked from him to you and then back to him. His jaw tensed as he stared at them both and it clicked, that's also his ex girlfriend. Tears began to fill in your eyes, and he pulled you close. He led you to a bathroom far away from them. Tears fell down your cheeks, pooling your mind.

"Listen to me, y/n. Fuck them. He didn't deserve you anyways." You leaned against the sink as he desperately tried to wipe away your tears. You shook your head while sobbing, "I can't believe it, I was an idiot to love him. I wasted all this time waiting for him." Now he was shaking his head, "no, y/n. Don't think like that. He's the idiot and you should beat his ass for doing that to you." You sighed heavily and pushed him away by his stomach, wiping your own tears. "God, I wish you wouldn't see me like this. Please don't make fun of me for this."

He stayed silent. "God, you reek." You sat down on the closed toilet lid. He looked down to his shirt, "oh right. I forgot." He took of his jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders, and off his shirt went. Pulling it off his shoulders, and wetting it in the sink. You couldn't help staring at his sculpted physique, he was ripped. And there was one thing that stood out to you, a small scar located a little above his waist. It was so unique and beautiful, you wanted to trace along it. He noticed your staring, "what?"

You stood up and walked over to him, he froze as you stared down at his scar. He backed against the sink. You slowly raised your hand and touched his stomach, "it's pretty." You traced along it, his chest rising up and down as you slowly caressed it. "Y/n," he whispered softly and you looked up at him. His cheeks were slightly red and you instantly knew he felt embarrased. You yanked your hand away, "sorry." He shook his hand and mumbled a, "its fine."

He continued to try to wash away the alcohol from his shirt as you watched. "I'll wash this later." He drained it and you gave him his sweater back to cover him up. He paused before reaching for the door, he looked back at you, "do you wanna go home?" You nodded your head, "yeah. I wanna go home." He put his arm around you and led you outside, not once letting you astray from his grip. You hadn't noticed before, but people were staring at you, you heard faint whispers. "Who's that girl with Lee Know?" "She's pretty." "Wait I think that's Chan's little sister." You shook off their conversations, of course they were talking about you, you were with Mr. King of the parties. He opened the door for you and you were about to enter when you heard your name being called. You took a deep breath and turned to the culprit. "What do you want Hyunjin?"

"Just let me explain." You glanced at Lee Know and he nodded his head for you to put Hyunjin's ass on blast. "Explain what exactly. That you didn't have your tongue down her throat, while you told me to wait for you all these years and forbade me to have a boyfriend? Please, how much of a fucking loser are you to get someone's sloppy seconds?" Lee Know held in his laughter as he brought a fist to his mouth. He looked visibly proud of you. "Yeah, we're done here. Let's go."

You held the door to enter when he yelled out, "you think you're so fucking high and mighty don't you. You wanna pick out my relationship but not the one right here," he motioned at the two of you, "I mean come on y/n. He fucking made your life a living hell, don't you remember the times you cried in my arms about him, wishing that he would die?" You suddenly felt small, he exposed you bare and you couldn't deny it. Suddenly, there was a crowd watching from afar that you hadn't noticed from afar.

Lee Know stepped in, "get over it. She doesn't want your fucking ass and is perfectly happy without you. Whatever she said in the past is definitely not how she feels anymore, now she loathes your ass. So, tell me this.." He stepped closer to him and you suddenly realized why everyone fears him too, he's not afraid to point out the obvious and speak up, he whsipered something inaudible to him. Hyunjin clenched his jaw and had a face of anger. He walked away defeated and Lee Know laughed as he did. You looked at Lee Know differently now, he stuck up for you when no one else did.

Maybe in another universe, you two could've been friends. Maybe he's not so bad afterall. Then you realized how rude you were to Hyunjin.

"My god, I'm turning into you!" He chuckled as your hands covered your face. "Is that so bad?" You nodded your head yes aggressively and he rolled his eyes. "Lino~~~" Oh God, as drunk as ever your brother came over to you two. "Chan, why did you drink so much?" He collapsed on the car and burped loudly, classy. "Okay, let's get you two home."

~~~

"Does he always get this drunk?" You asked Lee know and he shrugged his shoulders. "Sometimes, only when he's stressed I guess." You plopped down on the couch and he collapsed next to you. You both sighed heavily and tried to relax. Although it didn't last long, "how are you feeling about tonight?" You shook your head, "let's not talk about it..." He cares, he cares about what you're feeling. "It's weird, isn't it?" He furrows his face in confusion, "what is?" You smiled slightly as you looked at him, "those moments where we don't hate each other." He sighed once again, "like I said. I don't hate you."

"I know." You do know that, but in your heart, you can't shake off the past. "But I know you hate me, and that's okay. I'll make you like me someday." You laughed softly, you're already starting to. You start to think about the party again and a light appears in your head. "What if we strike a deal with each other?" He raised an eyebrow, obviously interested. "What if we pretended to date?" He dropped his head back and sighed, "what do I get out of this?" You scooted closer to him, "well it'll make your ex jealous, plus it would also make Hyunjin jealous too... and maybe he will regret not being with me. Also increase my popularity." He sucked on his teeth, "seems this only benefits you, I couldn't care less about my ex."

You pondered and searched your mind for a benefit for him, "fine then, you get me." His eyes widened and he brought his head back down to normal level, "excuse me?" You leaned onto the couch on one arm, holding your head, "you heard me. I'll let you hit it whenever you want." He scoffed, "I'm offended that you think I don't have access to that already." You bit your bottom lip, "but it's not me. It's different, I'm your enemy." He squinted his eyes and blinked about a thousand times, like to actually think about it. "So, you're saying you want to have hate sex?" You almost giggled and shrug your shoulders.

"I knew you were in love with me." You smiled and shook your head, "like I said, no." He mimicked your position and got closer, "so if I told you I wanted you right now, spread out and making you cry for it. You would do it?" You made a face of disgust, "okay don't make it weird. But essentially.. sure. After all if imma lose my virginity to someone, might as well be you." He retracted his face is shock, "wait you're a virgin? God, you were really waiting for him, huh?" Unfortunately yes, you were.

He licked his lips and nodded, "okay fine. I'll be your fake boyfriend. But that means that you can't fight me on couple duties and don't tell Chan." What have you gotten yourself into?

He seemed to keep up his end of the deal, to not be able to get away from him, even at school. Your phone began to ring and you reached into your book bag, more of a tote bag and answered it. "Hello?" His voice was excited and jumpy, "hi y/n.~" You nearly hung up the phone as soon as he spoke. "Lee know?? How did you even get my number?" You audibly groaned his name. "Your brother~" he cooed. "Remind me to murder him later.." He laughed softly and you felt butterflies appear in your tummy, you clenched your stomach and nearly punched yourself to make it go away.

"Why are you calling me?" You cross one of your arms across your chest and the other holding up your phone. "That's how you talk to your savior? Your brother told me to take you home." You groan aloud and begin to walk down the path to the front. "Why didn't he come for me?" There's a loud beep of a horn and you stop into your tracks. "Sorry, apparently that car didn't see me.. maybe he wanted us to spend alone time together." You roll your eyes. "I highly doubt that." He clicks his tongue, "so where are you?" You continue your walking again but go even slower. "I'm hiding, or maybe im at home or maybe im in Hyunjin's car. Could be anywhere really as long as I am away from you." This feeling makes you feel upbeat, you like teasing him.

"Tell me where you are right now you brat," he speaks quickly in a rude tone. "Okay, first of all, rude." He sighs heavily and then chuckles softly to himself, "nice dress, Princess. Can I take it off?" Your phone slightly drops down when you search your surroundings for him. You furrow your brows when you don't find him. "How'd you know I-" You scream as your feet are lifted off the floor, being carried from behind by your waist. "Found you," he whispers and attacks your neck, biting it playfully and pretending to eat it while making gurgling noises. "Okay, okay, enough! Put me down!" People were staring.

He sets you down gently and you toss your phone back into your bag. "Here, let me get that for you." He deattaches your book bag off your shoulder and onto his. "Thanks," you mumble softly. His arm cheekily raises over your head to your shoulder, "So, what are we doing today huh? Going to dinner? Or a fair? Maybe even the movies?" You stopped walking, pushing his arm off and your mouth was slightly agape as he looked at you curiously, "what are you talking about? We're going straight home." He pouted his bottom lip, as you noticed his car. Without waiting, you marched straight to it and to the passenger's side door, about to open it until he slammed it shut.

He leans in close, keeping a firm grip on the door. "We have to go out," he said softly, you shook your head no as you kept trying to open the door. "Come onnn, let's go on a date. You were the one who said you wanted to do this fake dating thingy." He whined pathetically and you knew he was just messing with you. So obviously you had no intentions or interest in saying yes. But you did anyway, just to mess with him. "Hmm, why not?" He perked up immediately and stepped closer to you. "Really?" "No," you said almost immediately and he frowned. "Well too bad because we're going anyway." He finally let go of the door and opened it. You glared at him as you went in and he softly smiled.

He took you out for ice cream. It was nice. He was nice and complimented your dress. He took you home afterward, and surprise surprise. No Chan. "Great, I don't wanna be alone... Come inside?" He looked at your front door and then you. "Can I cash in?" Already? You weren't prepared yet. And weren't exactly ready to give it up yet. "Oh, I haven't prepped or anything." He stepped closer to you, merely inches away. "I don't need all that, just you." But why the hell not? The sooner the better.

You led him inside and up into your room, making sure to lock the door. He wandered about as you quickly went into the restroom to touch up, the door was open to keep an eye on him. You walked in after a couple minutes and he was sitting on the bed, looking at picture. One of you in elementary, playing in the grass alongside Hyunjin. "I always thought you were so pretty when you played in the grass, I never got the chance to go with you. Your protector prohibited it." You approached him slowly and sat on the bed. You pulled the picture out of his hand, "forget him. I'm here now."

His eyes scanned your face as you tossed the photo aside. You prepared yourself, first kiss, first everything would be with him. He leaned in slightly. "What if my brother finds out?" His hand slips behind your ear, tucking softly at your hair strands. "He won't," he whispers against your lips. He stares into your eyes, flickering down often back down to your lips. "God, you're so damn beautiful." He pressed his soft lips into yours, taking you whole. You sighed in relief, it's as magical as you thought it would be. Moist and soft as pillows. Connecting two bodies into one.

"Don't stop," you mumbled against his lips. And he didn't. He entered his tongue softly into your mouth, entangling his with yours. You moaned at the feeling, the pleasure intensifying and all your doubts fade away. He reaches at the bottom of your dress, pulling it up above your waist. Revealing your underwear and tugging at it. He strokes at your concealed clit, he smiles. "You're wet for me, baby?" You almost moaned at the nickname. You felt shy now that he pointed it out. "You're sure you want to go through with this? I can stop."

You don't want him to stop. "Don't you dare stop." You pulled him back into your lips. You felt him smile against your lips. He pulled your dress over your head and laid it onto the floor. You reached for his belt. He stopped you as he took it off himself. You crawled back higher in the bed for room. He undressed himself until he was in his underwear too, the beautiful scar appearing once again. You couldn't help but stare, he is beautiful you have to admit. You reached for his pants and pulled out an aluminum wrapper. Holding it in his mouth and crawled toward you seductively. You giggled as he appeared on top of you and you took the wrapper out of his mouth.

He kissed your neck which made you melt in his touch. It felt like heaven and sent tingles down your body. Intensifying the building pleasure. He reached around your back and unclipped your bra. You weren't expecting it and gasped, so easily slipping it off. He attached his lips to your breast immediately, making your back arch as he sucked on it softly. His fingers teased at your entrance, playing with your panties and slapping it against your sensitive skin. "Don't tease me," you whimpered and his eyes turned dark with lust. He grabbed the wrapper from you and slipped down his underwear. Your mouth dropped, you weren't expecting it so suddenly.

You felt compelled to look at it and dragged down your panties. He groaned as he made eye contact with your pussy. He opened the wrapper and slipped it on neatly and swift. Getting ready and you prepared as he positioned himself. He entered smoothly and you moaned aloud, you covered your mouth but he pulled it away quickly. He kept your hands above your head at your wrists and the other positioning himself into you. You felt so full. "Fuck, fuck. It feels so good." You whined out as he continued to bottom out into you. He finally stopped pushing until you. The pain and pleasure mixing.

You moaned happily and tried to break free of his hold. "God, you're fucking perfect," he whispered. The praise got you going even more. He pulled out to the tip and pushed back in. You moaned heavily again as he began to set a rhythm. "Fuck, you're gonna make me come if you keep clenching like that." You wrapped your legs around his waist to encourage him. "Cum if you want to, just keep going." You've never talked like this to anyone. He let go of his grip around your wrists and readjusted your legs. Laying your ankles onto his shoulders and holding your legs close.

He pushed back into you and you practically crumbled in his hands. The pleasure was intensified, heightened. You cried out as he mercilessly pounded into you. "Please, please" you begged although you didn't know what. His thumb rubbed against your sensitive bud and you pushed away with your hips. You whimpered out as he kept abusing your body. "What's wrong, can't take it?" He teased you which made you angry, you hate being teased especially by him. It's his favorite thing to do.

"I hate you. I hate you. I hate you." You chanted against his rhythm. "I hate you so much," you mumbled to yourself. He smirked, "keep talking and watch what's gonna happen." A challenge, you know you can't resist. "I hate that I love this so much," you laughed breathlessly, "I hate that I love you fucking me." You squealed as he turned you over onto your stomach. He pushed your neck into the sheets and arched your back, a sting on your butt appeared. You whimpered at the pain, he slid on once again and you screamed into the pillow. "Keep going," he whispered into your ear. And so you did, confessing all what you were thinking.

"I hate that you're so attractive." He pulled your hair into a bundle and moaned softly. Butterflies appeared in your stomach, he was enjoying this, enjoying you. "I hate that you know exactly how to make me crumble in your hands." Tug. "I hate that I crave you at times I shouldn't." He begins to pound up into you fast and harsh, making you a moaning mess. "I hate that I've wanted you all these years!" You want it, want it so bad. You need a release. "That's all I wanted to hear," he whispered sweetly into your ear and pulled your face to kiss him. You cried out into his mouth as he mercilessly grinded into you. He moaned loudly, his hands bracing onto your hips as his pace slowed. But he kept going, for you.

He snapped his hips into you once, twice, and you collapsed. Like a thread being cut. A knot being undone. A firework finally exploding. Release, sweet beautiful release. He talked you through it, "that's it. Just let it go, princess. You're doing so good." You relaxed in his arms, feeling him slip out of you slowly. You suddenly felt empty now, without the comfort of him. He laid you down softly onto your back. "You okay?" He cooed at you as he brushed the hair out of your perfectly happy face. You nodded your head, "what are you smiling about, hm?"

"I'm just happy." You were. He gave you an experience that you'd dream of. He pulled back to yank off the rubber, and threw it away into your bathroom trash. You got up reluctantly to pull your underwear back on. But once you felt your feet hit the ground, a sharp sensation drew up your back and you stumbled onto your knees. He came running to your laid as you laid helplessly, "ow."

~~~

You two had a conversation after, establishing some boundaries. "Okay so first off," you underlined the top of the page titled, agreement. "We are not allowed to fall for each other, no romantic feelings whatsoever." He nodded in agreement as you scribbled it along the page. "Have to show some sort of affection in public for fake dating purposes... and make a public appearance at a party or something." He sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. "It's not that hard okay? It can be a simple gesture like a kiss on the cheek or a hug." You wrote it down.

"And I get to have my benefit whenever I want." He mentioned as he snatched the paper away from you and wrote it down. "As long as it's not in front of other people, I'd rather not flash my pussy to a stranger." He chuckled at your bluntness. "Oh right one more thing," you took the paper back. "Agreement will be void once goal is made aka I get my crush or broken." He stared hard at you, confusion in his sparky eyes. "You still want that guy? After all he did?"

You shrug your shoulders, "I mean I get it. You get lonely without someone to love. And plus, now I know the benefits of having someone." You cheekily rose your eyebrows at him in a playful way. He sighed and looked away. "I don't understand why you don't want your ex back. Didn't you two love each other?" He shook his head and you laid the paper onto the table in front of you two. "Why?" He sighs, "because she isn't you." You look at him confused, scared. "She isn't you... as friends, we have a connection, we light up around each other. I don't have that connection with her. I crave a connection if I want a relationship."

You understood what he meant. You do. You two seem to always encourage each other and be confident. You're not afraid of telling him anything. He changed the subject. "So, what did you mean that you've wanted me all these years?" Oh shit. You'd forgotten about that, your ears begun to stung. Might as well come out with the truth. "Well, I've always found you attractive. I just didn't wanna admit it."

"Yeah, I kinda have that effect on people." He flicked his imaginary long hair. You cackled out at his demeanor. "So that basically means you fantasize about me, huh?" You scoffed jokingly, "okay enough Mr. Cocky," you threw a pillow at him and he laid in defeat.

You had to begun to hang out at school with each other more. His friends had grown accustomed to you now. It was working, everyone believed you two were together. But thank god it was Friday, you hate school. You were sitting at the table where his friends were, waiting for him to arrive when you noticed his ex. Glaring at you with such fire in her eyes. "Hey," Lee Know said and you jumped once you felt his hand on your back. "Hi," he pecked you on the cheek. "You okay?" You nodded, while still looking in her direction, he noticed and followed your gaze. His eyes darkened as he noticed that she was whispering to her friends while looking at you. You felt suddenly conscious of yourself.

"Imma go okay?" You said softly to him but he grabbed your wrist to stop you. "Don't go, I'll handle it." You shook your head, "it's fine. Don't ruin anything between you two because of me." His eyes screamed at you to stay but you couldn't. You couldn't stand sitting there while she talked about you. So you walked away, feeling an ache in your stomach. You went to a nearby bathroom and washed your face. You stayed in there, looking at the mirror at your clothes. 'It could be better,' you thought. Maybe you'll go shopping.

You walked out upset and bumped into a tall boy. "Sorry," you said as you pulled away. "Y/n?" You stared up at him, that familiar face. "Hey Hyunjin." You stood silent, awaiting what he would say, it seems like he's got a lot on his mind. "Look I just wanted to say about how sorry I am for the other night. It was stupid and I don't even like the girl, I swear. I cut ties with her." You sighed heavily and put your hands in your sweaters pockets. "Let's just forget about that okay?" He nodded his head and you turned to leave.

"Wait," you stopped and looked up at him once more. "How about we go out tomorrow? So I can really make it up to you. Meet me at our spot at 3?" Your spot, you haven't been there in a long time. It's a big playground, you two would always meet up there in the past and just talk. "Sure, I'll be there." You walked away and find a stray Lee know again.

"Where'd you go?" You smacked your lips, "I have news!" His eyes creased and a small smile emerged. "Hyunjin asked me to go out tomorrow, as an apology." His smile quickly faded, and his eyes dropped down to his feet. "Isn't that good? I have to go shopping after school though, for some clothes." He nodded his head quick and reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. "Get something nice for yourself okay?" He hands you a couple of big bills. "No, no. I don't wanna use your money." You try to hand him it back but he pulls away. You sigh reluctantly and put the money into your pocket.

He leans forward into your ear, "maybe you can buy something nice for the two of us, hm?" You instantly knew what he meant, lingerie, and your face reddened at the thought of it. "Don't be naughty."

It was the next morning, and Lee know had shown up to question you about Hyunjin. He sat next to your floor mirror on a seat cushion. "And you'll be alone?" You rolled your eyes as you grabbed your shopping bag, pulling out the new dress you bought. It's a navy blue and tight fitted, you're planning on wearing some stockings with it so you won't be completely exposed. "You're stressing too much about this." You said while walking over to your bathroom to change, bringing the bag with you. "Yeah, because I care about you."

You began to dress behind the door as you listened. "I just don't want him to try anything funny." You walked out, over to the mirror, in front of him, "It'll be fine, it's in public." He stared at you, scanning up and down and you smiled happily at the result. "So.. do you like it?" You turned to him and did a twirl. "Love, I'm not even looking at the dress." You sucked in a breath and smiled, you lifted your hair and tried to assess if it looked good. "Hmm, hair down. Only I get to see you with your hair pulled back." You knew what he meant to that too.

Which reminded you of the surprise you had for him. You had noticed a lingerie store next to the dress store. And you gave in, picking out a white set. After all it is his money, he'll enjoy it. "Hold on, I have a surprise for you." You skipped over to the bathroom and changed into it. It hugged you beautifully, a blinged out corset top with see through panties, attached was some laced stockings. It came with a light cover dress, it was flowy and very pretty. You bit your bottom lip as you gazed at yourself. Definitely out of your comfort zone, but so is everything.

"What's taking so long-" He pushed open the door and his face practically dropped. His eyes didn't know where to land. You shifted on your heels, "do you like it?" He said no words. He lifted you up from your legs and hung you over his shoulder. "Hey, what are you doing!" You screamed out and kicked your legs, it was useless. He dropped you onto your bed and quickly ran to your room door, locking it. You didn't know what he was doing, you only assumed. He wants to fuck you again.

"Get on your knees," he ordered you without hesitation. You've never seen him like this, so dominant. You slowly dragged yourself onto the floor. Gradually getting onto your knees, you looked up at him through your lashes. He slowly unzipped his pants and you gulped. You know what he wants. He pushed down his pants to his ankles along with his boxers. You stared at his length, rock hard. "You have no idea what you do to me," he said as he stroked your cheek. It felt so innocent in this setting, it soothed you. He wrapped his hand around himself and pressed it to your lips. "You know what to do."

You parted your lips slightly and pressed a soft kiss onto him. You moved his hand out of your way, replacing it with yours. And slowly, seductively, teasingly, you kitty licked at his tip. He hissed as he watched you. He grabbed your hair into a ball, holding it out of the way to enjoy the show. Finally, you pushed him into your mouth, you held down your tongue and tried your best not to gag. It was impossible and caused your eyes to fill with tears. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, and he tugged on your hair aggressively, pushing your head. You didn't care, he can use you all he likes.

"Fuck, I need you right now." You hummed against him and he moaned out loud. You were beginning to feel a glow in between your legs. He pushed your mouth off of him and you got onto the bed. He threw his shirt off and you could cum at the sight, he's so breathtaking. He ripped your sheer dress off you, "hey don't ruin it!" He growled, "my money, my girl, I can do what the hell I want." You're not his girl, you were about to correct him when he pushed aside your panties. One of his fingers entering inside of you and you moaned. Prepping you for him.

He took out a condom and once again slipped one on with one hand, what an expert. He planted his hand next to your head and kissed you softly, his kisses were always so gentle. He slipped into you, beginning a rhythm and you moaned loudly into his mouth. He pulled away, "I feel that good?" You nodded your head quick and did not even try to be quiet. Your arms slipped around his neck and you closed your eyes in pure bliss. He was grunting hard, like he was gonna finish soon. But you knew he would keep going even if he did. He started to go faster while his moans were getting louder. You felt a slight shoot get blocked off and the condom fill up.

You felt a rush of pleasure come over you, you felt your high coming in close. You started to whimper out and clawed out his back. He then began to trickle kisses down your neck but you felt a slight sucking sensation. "Don't," you said breathlessly, "I'm still going out after this." He stopped and you saw how angry his expression was. His rhythm slowed down unexpectedly and you made eye contact with him. "Keep going. I'm so close," you begged him. "Uh, uh. You want to go out still? You don't get to finish." And he denied you of finishing. He pulled out of you.

You groaned, annoyed. "Why are you so mean?" You whined as he moved away from you. He smiles, "because," and kisses your cheek. You frown. He took off his condom and threw it in the bin next to your bed, you had planned ahead by putting one there. But you had your own ideas. As he laid beside you and stared at the ceiling, your hand slipped off your panties. Your hand slipped down between your folds, and circled your clit. You moaned out as you stared at Lee know, making eye contact. He shook his head disapprovingly. You were only to this to make him realize he made a mistake.

"Mm, Lee know," his name slipped out of your lips so easily. You made sure to sound as breathless as possible. It was working as you saw he was getting hard again. "I won't engage," he told you but you knew he was lying. "Fine," you stopped and got on top of him. "You won't play with me?" You grabbed his now hard length and held it lined up to your entrance. "Y/n, don't. I'm not wearing-" You ignored him as you slid down slowly. You braced yourself onto his stomach and moaned out pathetically, why did he never let you experience it raw before? It's addictive.

He feels crazy good. You can feel every ridge and curve. Everything hits the right spot. "Oh my god," you gripped onto his chest. "Oh my god," you screamed out in glee. The build up is threatening to snap, and you love how it's feels right before it does. "Thats it, my love. Let it out," he whispered sweetly to you. Snap. And you go falling down onto him.

~~~

He begged you not to go, but you weren't going to stand up Hyunjin. You couldn't... At least not without an explanation. You walked over to the park, he was no where to be found. Your phone began to ring, unknown caller. You answered it, "hello?" There was a sudden burst of laughter, a girl. "Oh y/n. Did you really think he was gonna go? You're quite stupid to think that." You recognized the voice, Lee knows ex. "He ditched me?" There was a noise of scramble on the other side. "Hello y/n." Hyunjin. You gritted your teeth. "I like your dress, very revealing. Did you go shopping for me?" You looked around and saw no one, suddenly you felt cold and began to walk out of the park.

"Why are you doing this?" He laughed softly to himself. "It's payback, you betrayed me by getting with Lee know." Anger began to pelt up inside you, "I never betrayed you. You betrayed me." He laughed once again. "But something smells fishy doesn't it? I think it's you." Just then you turned when a loud car pasted by, the window was down. Splash. You were hit with a bucketload of water. You gasped as you fell to the ground from the weight. You screamed when you saw a fish had been through with it. You didn't know what to do, you ran.

Home. You don't know where that is. All you knew was him. You needed him. His comfort. His words. You needed to go to him.

~~~

You knocked on his door repeatedly and rang the doorbell. Clutching your soaked body and sobbing out. The door swung open fast, when his eyes landed on you. He had a look who could kill. "Who did this to you?" You didn't want to answer. You knew he would go after him and that's the last thing you wanted. "It's none of your business." You said calmly. "You're my fucking business. What happened?" He spit out his words and tears flowed down your cheeks once again. "I'm gonna kill him." He stormed past you but you clutched onto his arm. "Please don't leave me. I need you here."

His gaze softened and immediately took you into his arms. "I'm not gonna leave you, I swear." You smelled, really bad. But he didn't care. He held you for so long. You wish he would never let go. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up." He led you inside and into his bathroom. He lives alone. You remember that, no siblings, parents gone. It must be awfully lonely. He sat you down on the toilet lid while he turned on the water for a bath. Putting bubbles in it. You laughed amused to yourself, he has bubbles for himself?

He looked confused at you, "feeling better?" Your face fell sullen again. "Get undressed," he said and pulled you off the seat. You pulled the dress off and the stockings. He picked them up and waited for you to take off the rest. You turned away from him and took off your underwear. You got into the water and sat down. He left with your clothes and came back with his own, a hoodie and some shorts. Sigh, no underwear. He was respectful when he came over to you, only looked at your face. Nothing else. He scrubbed you clean and gently rubbed shampoo into your hair.

You could've done it yourself but he insisted. He said he felt bad for letting you go. For letting them get to you. "I'm sorry this happened y/n." At least one person actually cares for you. He left so you can dry yourself and get dressed. After you did, you walked into his living room. Wandering around his place and found him in the kitchen. He had a pan of butter grilling, while he was cutting some freshly washed asparagus. "Hey, hope you like steak,' he said as you walked to his side. There was a plate of seasoned meat sitting next to the cutting board. "You're the whole package, huh. Everything a girl would hope for." He laughed softly, "hope she comes soon."

~~~

You had slept at his place that night, after having a full tummy and a movie night on his couch. You got to talking. "Tell me a lie that you've told yourself all your life." He asked while putting an arm on the couch behind your back. You smile softly, "that we can't be friends. I should've given you a chance a long time ago." You laid your head against his arm, your body still facing him. "So you don't hate me anymore?" You didn't want to admit it so you just smiled and looked down.

"Say you hate me, y/n." You glared at him, challenge in your eyes. "Say it," he curved his head and gave you a stern look. You tried to lose your smile but laughed when you said, "I hate you." His tone was playful. "Say it like you mean it." A smile crept up on your lips, "I can't."

You two were silent now. "I don't hate you Lee know. I guess your charm has finally won me over." He pulled your body close to his, "good. We can finally be friends now, best friends." Your eyes began to drop, heavy with sleep, "Yeah, I would like that." You fell asleep. And woke up in his bed.

"Good morning sleepy head," he said sitting up. You stretched out, looking down at his hoodie. Forgetting that you had it. "What time is it?" You mumbled and rubbed your eyes. "Time to wake up," he said while grabbing his phone. "Look at this," he flashed a photo up at you, a picture of you lying on his chest. "Delete it," he shook his head. "It's my new wallpaper." You tackled him, attempting to snatch the phone out of his hand. You huffed once he shoved it into his bedside drawer. "Come here," he whispered and motioned to his lap. He pulled you over, and you laid onto him, straddling on him.

You set your head between the cradle of his neck and shoulder. Your arms resting around his neck. This feels nice. Comforting. "Thank you," you grazed your fingertips against his arms. His arms wrapped around your waist. "For what?" His chest flowed up and down, "for being here, with me." He hummed and traced his hand up your spine. "You're being so sweet all of a sudden." Your head slowly raised and your thumb lined his lips, "I'm just happy I have you." He looked at you suspiciously, "you want something don't you?"

Your eyes snapped up at him and he tilted his head in confusion. You smiled, he caught you, "feel like exploring?" He sighed and tried to look annoyed. He looked up at you with a soft look and stroked your cheek, "I didn't think you would want to do anything.. Aren't you tired?" You shook your head, you leaned forward to his neck. Removed his hands from your cheek and sprinkled kisses. He pulled back and you frowned, "I want you to do what I did for you the other day.. the stuff with my mouth?" His tongue rolled inside, along his cheek. He cheekily smiled, "You want me to do that to you?" You nodded your head and pouted.

"Aww, anything for you," he rolled you over onto your back. He pressed his lips against yours softly, igniting you. You pulled him to stay, gripping his sleeves. You moaned against his lips once you felt his hand pulling at your shorts. "I like seeing you in my clothes," he whispered against your lips. "I like being in them," you teased him back, "but I'd rather not have any on with you." He tilted his head once again in surprise. You took the opportunity to scatter your mouth against his neck. This time he cooperated. "You're becoming more and more like me."

You smiled against his neck and began to suck against the sensitive skin. He pulled away after a few seconds, he looked down at you, "oh so when you do it, it's okay?" You shrugged your shoulders, "you can do it to me if you want." He immediately got to action. He pressed his lips to your neck, you felt yourself flush. He sucking harshly and you winced softly, he kissed down your collarbones and lifted your shirt. Sucking on your breasts, it seemed it was letters of some sort.

He finally stopped after a while, he kissed your lips. "Ready?" You smiled and he crawled down your body. Your hands laid on your chest comfortably. Once his wet lips pressed against your inner thigh, you gasped. You almost closed your thighs in surprise. "Just relax for me, baby." You did and released the tension. He softly laid your legs onto his back. You could feel his hot breath on your core and it was driving you crazy. Finally, he set his lips onto you. Your hands crashed into his hair.

He kissed your clit softly causing your body to jolt. His eyes looked up at you, dark and sparkling. He looks perfect like this. You grab your phone from the bedside table, he put it there to you. A capture an array of pictures of him, "do I look pretty?" He asks and you nod your head. His tongue makes its way and pushes into you. The pressure building in your stomach. You set the phone down beside you. He attacked your clit again, sucking and kissing while his fingers entered inside you. It was too much, your body enjoyed it too much. You let go. Cracked.

You felt light headed, minutes, hours seemed to pass by in a second. "Holy shit, are you okay?" You nodded your head and a warm presence kissed your cheek. You cooled down and hugged his body close to yours. "Feel like going out tonight?" He asked softly, looking into your eyes lovingly. "Yeah, but I want more." You said as you pulled the covers over you two.

"I have nothing to wear!" You cried out in your closet. "You have plenty of clothes, you just went shopping." You searched in the pile of clothes on your floor, "I don't know if I want to wear a skirt or a dress or pants." He sighed heavily, "it's gonna rain tonight." You frowned and picked up a pair of pants, better to be comfy than cold. "I'll would wear a revealing top to better the outfit. But someone decided to leave hickeys that say MINE on me." You pulled out a shirt and showed him it. He crossed his arms, "wear what you want. I can fight."

You hit him with the shirt, "there will be no fighting tonight. I want just want to chill and enjoy a beer." You pull the clothes on quickly and turn to him, shooting him a look that says 'how do I took?' "You look beautiful," he cringes immediately after the compliment leaves his lips and you giggle to yourself. "Wow, can't say anything nice without cringing."

The party was pretty boring. No fights. No arguments. Just what you wanted. Just a night to chill with some friends and your brother. Chan questioned you about where you were, "you were gone the whole night." You pushed him away, "like you're not gone for days at a time. I had a rough night and crashed at a friend's." He seemed to believe you and moved on. It was technically true. Lee know is your friend.. friend with benefits? Fuck buddy? Best friend? One of those.

You walked over to a group where Lee know was chatting with his buddies. They tried to tease him by lifting up his shirt but he quickly dodged their attempts. "Come on guys. You know he doesn't like anyone touching or seeing his scar," Chan scolded. Your eyes darted to Lee know. He doesn't? But he let you, he didn't care when you saw him, saw his scar. When you traced your fingers along it. "Whatever, I need a drink." He walked away from the group and he grazed along your arm for you to follow. You did, and immediately questioned him, "I didn't know you didn't like when people touch you there." He didn't answer for a while. "I don't." You whispered softly to him as he grabbed a cup. "But you let me."

"Isn't it obvious y/n?" He took a big gulp out of his cup, chugging it down. "What is?" He looked into your eyes, searching for something, something that you should already know the answer to. "Never mind," he shook his head off and began pouring himself another drink. "No, what? Tell me." You snatched the cup out of his hands and he almost pouted. He leaned against the table, "I'd only let you because... I have a soft spot for you, I think you know the reason why." You blinked heavily, "but I want you to tell me, not for me to just guess." You looked down at the beer in your hands and took a small sip, it's bitter.

"I'll tell you later," he grabbed the cup back from you and took a sip. "You either tell me now or never." You walked away from him, he followed behind and you went outside. To have an actual private conversation. Its raining. You stopped at the end of the driveway, next to your brother's car, and awaited his answer. His hands were in his pockets and he stared at the ground. Water dripping down his hair and body naughtily. "So?" He looked up and shook his head, you sighed heavily. "God, you're such a coward." He furrows his brows, "excuse me?"

"You're a fucking coward. You talk all this nonsense saying you're sure about yourself and you're really not. You're pathetic." He raised his tone, "fine you really want to know?" You stood, wet, the question was seeping into your skin.

"I love you y/n."

You blinked a thousand times again. You stepped back and shook your head in disbelief. Disappointment. You both agreed that your relationship wouldn't go past any feelings. "Is that so hard to believe?" He said since you weren't saying anything. "I thought we agreed no strings attached, that this would never turn into something." He groaned and his hands flew up into his face, rubbing against it crazily. "How could you have not known, y/n? All these years I've waited for you, tried to get your attention just so you would look at me, like me!" You swallowed down a build up in your throat, feeling a heavy feeling. "It's you, y/n. It's always been you. Why can't you see it?"

"I don't chase girls, I never have. I never wanted to. But I'm chasing you." You fist your hands into a ball. He tries to approach you but you push him away. "Don't push me away," he pleads. "I'd like to go home now." You said bluntly. His eyes saddened, glassy with tears. You walked to his car, the rain was pouring down even harder. You turned angrily at him. "Why? Why now? Why did you never tell me this!" He shakes his head, "I didn't know how to say it." He paused. "But it's true, I love you y/n. And I never want to stop saying it." Tears begin to mix with the rain pouring down your cheeks. "I have loved you ever since I have known you."

"You're fucked up, you're fucking everything up!" He nodded his head and walked in a different direction, past you. You chased after him. "Don't walk away when I'm talking to you." He stopped next to his car, "what is there to talk about? I know you don't like me." The feeling in your chest was heavy, you know what you have to do. What to say. You find the words in your heart, you know what you feel for him. "I love you." He stops. "You're actually stupid if you don't realize how much I love you," you add and smile.

You look into his eyes, his mesmerizing eyes. "But I have to make sure, that you really do love me-" "yes." He cuts you off so sure of himself, like it's as easy as breathing. "Yes, I love you y/n," he runs up to you and involves you into a kiss. It's sweet and soft, butter against your lips. "There's never gonna be anyone but you." You smile, a smile so big and genuine, you feel as if you're floating. It dawns on you, "my brother is going to kill me when he finds out." He laughs against your lips, "don't worry about that."

~~~~~~~~

164 notes · View notes

swordsandholly · 2 days

Text

Keep it Casual

NSFW | MDNI

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish x fem.plus size.Reader

cw: injury mention, death mention (in passing - no character death), brief weed smoking

Word count: 3.7k

One-shot/Drabble

Boy loves girl, girl loves boy. They’re not allowed to admit it, though. It’s good, right? All the benefits without any of the commitments. It’s what they both want, right?

Johnny MacTavish is an enigma to you in many ways. You’ve known each other for years - ever since you came over to the UK for Uni. He was in basic training then, out drinking when he approached you. His buddies were brutish and rude, only looking to add a soft American to their list of conquests, but Johnny… he spoke to you differently. Looked into your eyes, listened intently, gave you his full attention and nothing less.

You’ve been thick as thieves ever since. Beyond that, even. You and Johnny are entirely indivisble. Even when he’s gone for weeks, months, at a time, you’re inheretnly interlinked. Whether by phone calls or the matching tattoos you got on your ankles one drunken night, you’re connected.

There aren’t any labels for it. When people ask you default to best friends, but that doesn’t quite encapsulate it. There isn’t a word in the English language for what you have. You’re not partners - you’ve both had plenty of those each, however briefly. Even those always end. You and Johnny can’t be torn apart, though.

You know what the problem is. The reason you both keep it this vague, amorphous thing between you. Labels are frightening. Labels make things real. Labels mean you have to tell other people what you are, that suddenly there are expectations to live up to.

Labels feel like a death sentence in his line of work. Too many lost husbands, partners, lovers.

You lay on your belly in bed, legs kicked up in the air as you engross yourself in a book when the door knob clicks to the side. Johnny has a key to your place, of course, just as you have one to his. You don’t bother to get up. The chain always hangs loose when he’s gone - knowing he’ll come around at any moment. The door would stay wide open if it could, just for him.

You hear a thunk as as he drops his duffle on the ground. He didn’t go home yet, just came straight here. His boots fall on the floor next, then his jacket drops quietly in the hallway as he slowly makes his way to your room - to you.

“Bonnie lass…” Johnny greets, crawling across the bed toward you. He managed to get down to just his standard issue t-shirt and boxer briefs before climbing in. He knows you hate outside clothes on the bed.

“Johnny.” You smile, rolling onto your back as he climbs over you. Your fingers card through his mohawk, tugging gently on the strands curling at the base of his neck. “Need a trim there, bud.”

“Aye.” He chuckles. “Was waitin’ tae see ye. No one does it as good as my girl.”

His girl. Your boy. That’s the closest either of you ever get to tempting fate.

You hum. “How was work?”

Work. That word doesn’t even come close to what Johnny does. You can’t say more - can’t utter the word deployment. Coward.

“Ach no’ tha’ bad this time. Go’ my heid knocked around a bit.”

“So the usual?”

“Oi.” He scoffs in mock offense. “Donnae be rude.”

“I’m never rude.” You snicker, turning over and reaching for the top dresser of your nightstand. “Do you want to roll or me?”

“I think I’ve earned some princess treatment.” Johnny flops back on the bed, a finger hooking in the hem of your cotton panties as you sit up. He always does this when he first gets back - has to have some part of him touching some part of you. Not that you’d ever complain. You need it just as much as him, though you’d die before admitting to it.

Those blue eyes bore into you as you roll. It’s tradition - a celebratory joint when he gets back. Then you’ll binge all the TV shows and movies you saved up while he was gone and order an ungodly amount of take out. Indian. His favorite. Sometimes Johnny will go back to his apartment the next day to get some quiet time, maybe visit his parents, before he has to go back to work on the base but other times he’ll stay with you his whole time back home. Just taking up your space and being so domestic it makes your teeth hurt like too-sweet candy.

You always hope he stays.

“First hit for the guest of honor?” You smile, holding the joint out for him.

“Och, yer a blessing, hen.” His hand is warm as it brushes yours when he takes the joint from you, eyes locked on your own. There’s something intense in his stare that you aren’t used to. It makes you look away, almost shy under his gaze. He coughs suddenly, a harsh burst of smoke puffing from his lips.

You can’t help but laugh at him, “Getting weak lungs, soldier boy?”

“Oh, feck off.” He elbows you gently.

Somehow you’ve already got the giggles. It’s just something about being around him that makes everything feel better - brighter. More lively. Even the colors of your ugly little ashtray (the one you painted terribly when Johnny’s niece insisted the three of you go paint pottery while babysitting) feel so much more clear with him near.

“Oh!” His brows shoot up suddenly, as if he just remembered something direly important. “I got somethin’ fer ye. Be right back.”

You watch him jog down the hall - definietly not staring at his butt, no ma’am - and listen to the sounds of Johnny rooting around through his duffle bag. Your lips quirk up into a smile when he lets out a distant “aha!”

He comes back with a small, velvety box, flopping back into bed beside you and criss-crossing his legs. “There was this little artisan shop in a town we stopped through. The Captain wanted tae get his wife somethin’ an’ I saw this an’ thought of ye.”

The box slips into your hands. It’s small and light. You roll it between your palms a couple times before shaking it with a grin. Before you can make one of your usual silly quips about what might be inside, your eyes meet Johnny’s. They’re on fire, sparkling with anticipation for you to open the little gift. He’s gotten you things before (you actually have a shelf dedicated to his nicknacks from around the world) but this seems… different. There’s a heaviness to his expression that you’re not used to.

You glance between him and the box briefly - opening it slowly. Your eyes turn to saucers as you come face to face with a finely crafted silver necklace. A little four pointed star with a sparkling gem in the middle that looks the same icy blue as Johnny’s eyes. Little flecks of pink and green catch the light as you turn it between your fingers.

“Johnny-“ You gasp, at a total loss for words.

“Ye like it?” He asks with an uncharacteristically nervous pitch to his voice. His palms rub together absently as he glances between you and the necklace in your hand.

“I love it.” You smile softly, heart fluttering as Johnny breaks out in a grin of his own. “Put it on me?”

“Course.” He whispers, pushing your hair to the side and locking the clasp with deft fingers. It hangs perfectly underneath your clavicles, resting between the other jewelry you wear daily.

Those hands linger for a moment, before both slowly brush down over your shoulders. Rough, calloused fingers glide across your skin and leave an electric current in their wake as light kisses trail up your neck. “Missed ye, bonnie.”

You sigh and lean back against his broad chest. “Missed you too.”

Teeth sink into the crook of your neck, pulling a gasp from your lips. Large, rough hands grab and knead your tits through your thin tank top. He plucks at your nipples - rolling them between his fingers as he sucks deep marks into your neck.

You open your mouth to complain about leaving visible hickies but all that comes out is a breathy moan. You run your hands up his thighs on either side of you, dragging your nails across his skin in the way that always leaves him panting.

One hand travels down, grabbing onto the softness of your belly appreciatively before continuing. His fingers glide over your covered pussy, teasing you to gasp and squirm under him. Rough fingers continue to pluck at your nipple, eventually pushing their way under your tank top for better access. A low hiss escapes Johnny’s lips as your breasts fall free of the camisole.

“Fuck, bonnie. Can I taste ye? Please? Need ye so bad.” Johnny groans in your ear. “Please.”

How could you ever say no to him? He doesn’t even have to ask, really.

He repositions you on your back, tucking a pillow under your hips. Ever the considerate type. His fingers hook in your panties, a low, pleased rumble echoing through his chest as he shucks off the soaked fabric.

No matter what he’s doing, Johnny’s eyes always find yours. He could be across the most crowded room in the world and, imminently, they’ll find yours. They crinkle at the sides with his smile that pulls the scar on his chin.

“So pretty fer me.” He murmurs, lowering himself between your thighs as he bites and kisses up the soft flesh between your legs.

Johnny is a lot of things, and a total much is easily near the top of the list. Maybe number one, even. He presses his face into your cunt - mouthing over your clit and dragging his tongue down between your lips. It’s almost more for him, you think, the way he drags his tongue through the crease between your thigh and pussy. You can’t complain - you would be a fool to with the way he absolutely worships your body.

A harsh suck to your clit as your back arching. Strong arms wrap around your thick thighs to hold you down as he devours you.

“Taste so good, lass. Sweet as fuckin’ candy.” He moans against your cunt.

“Johnny!” You gasp, hand tangling in his overgrown mohawk. A low moan pulls out of you as he licks from your back hole to your clit before stuffing his tongue as deep in your pussy as he can. Chants of obscenities and pleading and oh, god, Johnny please you’re so good fall from your lips.

You know better than to try to hide your sounds. If he could he’d devour them just as much as he already does you - inject them straight in his veins to live there forever. Two fingers push into you, the stretch causing you to gasp. Johnny chuckles as you buck into the touch. The fingers curl directly up into that spot inside you as he nips at your clit.

Your climax hits you like a train - stars blooming behind your eyes and your back arching sharply. You’re always so sensitive after he’s been gone. So ready to have him again.

“Thassit, tha’s my good girl.” Johnny kisses up your thigh, working you through your orgasm with his fingers. “Ready fer me, baby? Missed this pretty cunt so bad - thought about her every day.”

You nod excitedly - mind too fuzzy and content to come up with the words to respond. Lazily, Johnny reaches over to the nightstand to grab a condom. He knows your home, like you, inside and out. Every nook and cranny might as well be his.

It could be his.

It should be his.

Johnny cups your cheek, kissing you slow and deep. His tongue parting your lips gently before exploring every inch of your mouth. Those rough hands trail down your body with reverence. One going from your cheek, to your sternum, over your belly to sink into the softness of your waist. The other holds tight on your hip as he lines up.

You gasp and moan against each other as he pushes in. The stretch is delicious. Your nails sink into his strong back.

“Practically made fer me, bonnie.” He groans as he moves. It’s slow, languid.

He’s so beautiful. Always has been. No matter how he changes - new hair, new scars, new tattoos - he’s still beautiful. The prettiest man you’ve ever met. You run your fingers through the downey layer of dark hair over his chest - tracing the outlines of his muscles, up over his thick shoulders to cup his cheek.

Your bodies move together easily - a well practiced dance that you’ve perfected over the years.

“Christ.” Johnny gasps into your ear - strong forearms bracket your head, burying you under him. “I lov-“

You turn your head, catching his lips in a kiss. It’s terrible of you, you’re sure, but there’s nothing those words can communicate that a well timed gasp or a perfectly placed caress can’t say better. His nose knocks against yours, your hands travel all over him, seeking out any purchase they can find.

It turns desperate. A clawing need as you rediscover each other for the millionth time. Wet, open mouth kisses against each others skin and bodies moving perfectly in tandem. The light high from smoking leaves your skin warm and buzzing with electricity. It borders on overstimulating - just barely this side of too much.

“Johnny…” You whine, tilting your head back.

“Aye?” He pants, laving at your clavicle. “Gonnae cum f’me? Cream all over my fuckin’ cock?”

All you can manage is a keen, teeth sinking into his shoulder to hide you face form him. A hand tangles in your hair, pulling you down to stare up at him.

“Eyes on me, hen. Want - ah - want ye lookin’ at me when I make ye cum.”

It’s too intense. It always is looking into those baby blues. As if they can see right through to the most buried parts of yourself. Johnny shifts your hips up ever so slightly, the new angle bullying his head against your g-spot with each thrust. Your nails claw across his shoulder blades.

It doesn’t take long before you’re careening over the edge with him, bodies tensing against each other. Clenching down around him like a vice while you gasp for air.

“There she is. Tha’s my girl.” Johnny murmurs against your lips, still rocking into you in short, sloppy motions. Just to drag it out a little longer until you whine at the overstimulation.

You let yourself lay back to catch your breath, floating back to earth while Johnny disappears to toss the condom in the trash. He’s back nearly as fast as he left, pulling you against his chest and burying you both under the soft sheets of your bed.

“Shower?” Johnny whispers into your hair, eventually. You nod against his chest, slowly peeling yourselves apart. Your fingers remain tangled all the way to the bathroom.

He whirls you after you turn on the shower, kissing you slow and deep as you wait for the water to warm up. A warm hand splash across your lower back - keeping you close. You’re left breathless when he finally pulls back, pupils blown so wide in the low evening light that you can hardly see the blue of his eyes.

You sigh to yourself as you step into the shower, grateful that you splurged on the apartment with the especially large bathroom. It definitely wasn’t with Johnny in mind. You’d never make your decisions based around such a nebulous relationship.

Not the size of your bathroom - enough to fit both your wide frame and his broad shoulders.

Not the location of your apartment - only a few blocks from his.

Not keeping his favorite snacks stocked at all times just in case he comes home early.

Not referring to your apartment as his home.

“Lean down a bit.” You smile, pouring a glob of shampoo into your hand for him. Johnny’s always been picky about his hair care. You always make sure it’s on hand in your bathroom.

He does the same for you, of course, when he can, but somehow you both always end up at your place instead. Not that you’d ever complain. You like your place. It’s safe. Warm. A cocoon away from all the parts of the world that have scarred you so deeply.

Johnny groans happily as you scratch his scalp, the quality shampoo cleaning far more deeply than any of that standard issue stuff he gets on deployment ever could. You watch the suds slowly drip down over the lines of his back, breath catching as your eyes settle on a nasty, raised patch of skin you hadn’t seen before.

It looks like a chunk got ripped out of his back, right under his ribs.

“Johnny.” You gasp.

“Hm?” He looks over his shoulder at you, brows raising as he realizes what you’re looking at. “Oh tha’? It’s nothin’. Just go’ a bit knocked around, remember?”

You bite your lip, tamping down the rising fear in your gut. “D-does it hurt?”

“I’m fine, lovie.” Johnny turns, giving you that sparkling, million dollar grin. He knows it scares you, shakes you to the core.

You’ve already lost everyone else in your life, having the ever present threat of losing Johnny as well is too much to handle sometimes. It keeps you up at night, when he’s away, imagining all the worst that could happen to him.

How easy it would be for a simple bullet or knife to shatter your world.

That’s why the two of you keep up this little arrangement. This song and dance at arms length. To spare you. Both of you. Either when he doesn’t come back or you break and run.

You won’t run, though. As much as it hurts, the good is too good to give up. You’ll stay through it all, with just enough distance to keep your sanity.

“Ye with me?” Johnny asks gently, slowly pulling you out of your thoughts and back into the moment.

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry. Long week.” You lie, leaning up on your tip toes to plant a small kiss in the corner of his mouth.

He hums, turning to meet your lips. You let yourself fall into him, fingers running through the hair on his chest, up to the back of his neck. He just feels right under your hands. Perfectly molded to press up against you - hard muscle to balance out the softness of your body. Angles and curves. Push and pull. Sun and moon.

Holy hell, you’ve become a sap.

“Sit.” You point to the chair you drug into the bathroom and Johnny happily plops down - big, fluffy towels tied around your chest and waist respectively. A content smile settles across his face as you slowly work your way across his scalp with the electric razor. You let your fingers to scrape along after you just the way he likes.

When you were young, you watched your mother cut your fathers hair. It seemed so subservient to you. Shameful, almost. You said you’d die before doing that for any man.

You carefully raise each section of his mo-hawk, cutting it down to the exact length Johnny likes to style it. A little on the short side, actually, so that it has time to grow before looking messy. Shearing the sides and taking extra care around his ears. He doesn’t need any more nicks or scars.

Johnny suddenly looks pensive as he watches you in the mirror - carefully taking in each of your movements.

“You’re worrying.” You murmur.

“I-“ He sighs. “It’s nothin’.”

“Johnny.” You level your gaze on his in the mirror, he looks off to the side.

“I’m just- I cannae-“ He sighs. “I miss ye.”

You snort. “I’m right here.”

Johnny shrugs. For once, he stops talking. You hate when he does. It’s the only true hallmark that something is wrong.

“Johnny-“

“Do ye want tae hear a new Ghost joke?” He interrupts. It’s an out. You’ll let him have it.

“Lay it on me.”

“Whit’s the difference between the bird flu and the swine flue?”

“What?”

“One requires tweetment an’ the other requires oinkment.”

A huffy laugh escapes you despite yourself. “That’s terrible.”

“Aye. Imagine listenin’ tae that in a life or death situation. Could be the last thing I hear!”

You giggle, finishing up with shaping the edges of his hairline. “How is it?”

Johnny stands, leaning close to the mirror and running a hand over his hair. Your eyes lock onto that newly forming scar again. It makes your throat feel tight.

He stretches his arms way over his head with a groan. “Think it’s time f’some proper lazin’ about.”

The rest of the night goes by as they usually do when he gets home. Indian take out, a romcom in the background, another round of fucking. Or two. It’s near eleven when you finally settle into the sheets, Johnny long asleep beside you. Comfortably snoring with that angelic peacefulness you only ever see in his sleep.

Will he look that peaceful if he dies?

The thought makes you want to throw up.

It takes all your mental fortitude to push that train of thought away. Opting to lay beside him, eyes flicking across his features as you attempt to memorize them all. The curve of his strong brow, the arch of his nose, the slight part in his lips as he sleeps. Your thumb traces the scar on his chin while you cup his cheek. As if sensing your current state - and, if you’re honest with yourself, you’re sure he can - a strong arm wraps around you to lock you against his chest. You let your legs tangle, breathing him in and following the pattern of the rise and fall of his chest. Real and tangible under your hands.

You’re just so glad that, at least right now, he’s home.

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doliacuddles · 20 hours

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A RELATIONSHIP WITH LUCIFER.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆:

𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝖫𝗎𝖼𝗂𝖿𝖾𝗋'𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇. 𝖨𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗉𝗂𝖼, 𝖨 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝖿𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀.

🪽 After years submerged in depression, surrounded by rubber ducks and memories of the past, meeting you was like a ray of sunshine in the darkness. From the moment your eyes met theirs, you felt an immediate and deep connection. Your presence made Lucifer's melancholy fade away, replaced by a spark of life he hadn't felt in centuries. Suddenly, his eccentric antics were filled with genuine joy again, and his laughter resonated with a happiness that no one in hell had heard before. To Lucifer, you were more than just a companion; you were his salvation.

🪽 He loves preparing breakfast, although it often ends up being an absurd combination of dishes, from duck-shaped pancakes to coffees with extravagant designs in the foam. Although his behavior may seem chaotic and theatrical, there is warmth and tenderness in each of his gestures that show how much you mean to him. He enjoys seeing you laugh, and he will do anything to ensure your day starts with a smile. Sometimes, he surprises you with a flower from the infernal garden, a small gesture that shows his affection and appreciation.

🪽 Before meeting you, he had abandoned all his aspirations, but now, inspired by your support and love, he has begun to devise grand plans again. Together, you dream of reforming hell, turning it into a better place for all its inhabitants. Your influence has led him to rekindle his relationship with Charlie, working together on projects he never would have imagined possible in his previous state. He looks at you with admiration as you share your ideas, feeling a deep pride and love that drive him to be a better version of himself.

🪽 Lucifer enjoys long talks with you, discussing everything from his days in Heaven to your dreams and desires. He often brings out his collection of rubber ducks, and together you name them and give them personalities, turning a symbol of his old melancholy into a source of shared fun. In those moments, he feels he has found not only a lover but also a friend and confidante who understands every facet of his being. Your words and your presence are a balm to his soul, giving him the strength to face any challenge.

🪽 Despite his volatility, he has found in you a reason to control his mood swings, striving to be the partner you deserve. When he feels melancholy trying to return, he simply thinks of you and the moments you have shared, finding in those memories the strength to move forward. You have brought a balance to his life that he never believed possible, and every day, he feels grateful to have found you. In your arms, he has discovered a love that is as eternal as his own being, a love that has changed his existence in ways he never could have imagined.

Intellectual property of @doliacuddles.

𝖳𝖺𝗀𝗌; @m-iyaa

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader

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monsamborabutterfly · 13 hours

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Apparently I've turned into a Polin/bridgerton stan account for the moment so if course I need to rant about some things for a minute here!

First: it's insane to me that some people seem to think they have no chemistry when the carriage scene literally exists and that's all I'm gonna say to that

Also seen some criticism about the pacing and that things felt rushed and I have to respectfully disagree. We've literally had season 1 & 2 to set the scene. We knew that Pen had feelings for Colin since then.

And I think that Colin just needed a little bit of that extra push to get there too. And sometimes that's just how it is when you fall for someone you've been friends with. At first it's slow. Barely even there beneath the surface and then something happens and you're looking at that person and it's like "holy shit I actually do have feelings for them" and everything is different. Been there done that lol

Then the other storylines. I get it. As a Polin lover I don't think there could ever be enough of them. That being said. I like how their scenes are spread. I think it kinda emphasizes the fact that they've been friends for a while. They're in each other's life so naturally. We didn't need a long drawn out "getting to know each other" storyline like with the other two seasons. They're familiar with each other and comfortable. This just set the scene for the rest of the story. I firmly believe that part 2 will give us more focus on them and how they get to know each other all over again as lovers.

#polin bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #colin x penelope #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #i think they did the friends to lovers thing perfectly #chefs kiss actually #luke newton #nicola coughlan #luke and nicola have so much chemistry

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fandom-trash-goblin · 2 days

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just never mind me i'm drowning in my feelings of jiang cheng, and how, for all his life, has never fucking been enough.

he's never been enough for his father, the peaceful, and revered for it, jiang-gongzhu, whose eyes just slid over his own blood, and who only ever had a smile for his past, for a boy made of ghosts, nevermind his own son who broke himself apart to be softer, brighter, trying to catch a moment of his time, one single i love you, son.

jiang cheng's never been enough for his own mother, no matter how hard he tries, killing himself in the effort to be the best in his mother's eyes, who only ever saw how a long dead cangse sanren's son picked up cultivation like a magic trick from thin air, never mind how her own son tore himself apart just so he could hear one single i'm proud of you, son.

jiang cheng's never been enough for his own sister, who always looked towards bold, brave, reckless wei wuxian, first, content in her knowledge, in her unshakeable belief that she needs to be a sister to him first, to little xianxian, to the gaunt, starving waif of a boy who'd needed a sister, who she'd died to save, never mind how her other brother wanted to give her a life she dreamt of, not one others thought she deserved, her other brother who'd only wanted to save her, who'd only wanted her to say, i'm looking at you, didi.

jiang cheng's never been enough for his brother/half-soul, for wei ying who he'd promised to protect and couldn't, hadn't been enough for wei wuxian, who forever ran ahead, making new friends, enemies, lovers so easily, colliding with titans and playing the hero, forever leaving behind jiang cheng, left staring at his back, waiting for him to turn, and look behind him just once. righteous wei wuxian, protector of innocents, the 'wen remanants', people who had the same name that once destroyed lotus pier, their home, and left it bloody and dying, nevermind his little brother, who just wants him to come home, who'd only wanted him to say, i'm staying this time, shidi!

all his life he's being trying and trying and trying, but even after so long, even after everything's been said and done, he's never been enough.

#i'm not talking about jin ling. Not Touching it. leave JC one good thing please #jiang cheng #mdzs #the untamed #pro jiang cheng #all this and he's only *angry*/ i'd have turned murderous #cql #jiang wanyin #mine stuff

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aanxiousangel · 2 days

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𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖋𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 { 𝕶𝖊𝖊𝖌𝖆𝖓 𝕻 𝕽𝖚𝖘𝖘 𝖝 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 }

🇦🇱🇱 🇷🇮🇬🇭🇹🇸 🇷🇪🇸🇪🇷🇻🇪🇩 - 🇮 🇩🇴 🇳🇴🇹 🇦🇱🇱🇴🇼 🇲🇾 🇼🇴🇷🇰 🇹🇴 🇧🇪 🇺🇸🇪🇩 🇴🇷 🇦🇩🇦🇵🇹🇪🇩 🇮🇳 🇦🇳🇾 🇼🇦🇾

notes: i just wanted to write my favorite ghosty boy again <3 send requests with whatever you'd like in my inbox <3

triggers: implied pining for years(?)

tags: implied smut, fluff?, friends to lovers, fwb to lovers?, pretty boy keegan <3

word count: 777

“So gorgeous, princess. My gorgeous girl, huh?”

His breath escaped him as his eyes trailed over your exposed body. Completely enamored as he took you in. In his mind, you were like a glass of water at three in the morning. You were the first cool breeze of Autumn. The cool sensation of the ocean under the Summer sun.

“How did I get this lucky, hm?”

Keegan’s voice caressed your senses. Chills slid across your entire body as you laid your head on the fluffy pillows. Your lips twitched with a soft smile, eyes heavy with comforting lust. It was too bad this was just a friends-with-benefits thing. It could’ve been so much more. Something beautiful.

Though, tonight was different. So much different. He was taking his time with you, not one inch of you left untouched. His fingers threaded through your hair carefully, admiring the way you leaned into his touch. Moving to carefully trace the outline of your face, he watched the way your eyes fluttered at the motion.

Not to mention how deliciously soft his lips were on yours. It wasn’t an aggressive, hungry kiss. It was slow and desperate as if he needed your kiss as replacement for his oxygen. Calculated, his tongue slipped past your lips as you gasped for a quick breath. Why’d you have to taste so heavenly?

The moment his tongue grazed yours elicited a soft moan from your throat. Keegan’s lips curled into a grin against yours. A low chuckle escaped him as he continued to kiss you and caress your cheeks. Gods, did he love pinching your cheeks, teasing you for how you looked when you were pouting. It makes you look like a bunny, princess, he would say.

“My beautiful girl…” Keegan breathlessly pulled away, saliva connecting your lips together.

You nodded carefully, panting softly as you kept your eyes on him. He’s never used possessive terms with you before. What was different? Why now after years of shoving your feelings under the rug?

“Keegan,” you breathed out.

“Mhm, princess?” Keegan’s breath tickled your jaw as he littered kisses along the soft skin.

“You’re different.”

His kisses halted as your words registered in his mind. Different? His mind started to race as he lifted his head. You thought he was different? What did he do? Different bad?

“How?” His voice cracked slightly as he whispered.

“You’re normally rough, fiery… Let alone calling me your girl.” Carefully, you cup his face and bring him closer, “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Keegan.”

“You don’t want to be my girl, Y/N?” His voice sent chills running all over your skin again.

“I’ve wanted that for years,” your voice was as delicate as a dandelion, throat choking up with an unreleased sob that would rack your entire being.

Keegan pressed a soft kiss to your lips, brows furrowed as he focused on pouring every emotion into it. His breath ghosted across your lips as he poured his heart out under the golden glow of the sun.

“I’ve craved every ounce of you since the moment I met you. The moment you set foot into the military base. Fuck, seeing you outside of work,” Keegan’s words were trickling between his gentle kisses. “I could never get enough of you.”

You didn’t even get a chance to say anything before he continued.

“My beautiful girl,” Keegan praised sweetly. “My favorite vice. I was willing to risk it all for you. Took any chance I could to work alongside you. Your intelligence turned me on. Couldn’t take my eyes off of you, princess. Couldn’t stop listening to you talk. Wasn’t fair to me, princess.”

His teeth gently tugged your earlobe.

“I had to make sure you noticed me. That you were impressed. I couldn’t wait until you noticed me, princess. Until I was completely sure you were mine.”

Here come the waterworks. You sniffled as you listened to his confession.

“Years, Keegan,” you whined, “you made me wait years! It’s not fair.”

You didn’t even blink before you were in his lap perfectly. One arm wrapped securely around your waist as the other wrapped around your back. Keegan watched your surprised expression as he looked at you.

“You were worth any wait. I’ll make up every last second,” Keegan kissed away your tears gently. “I couldn’t risk messing this up, Y/N. I promise it wasn’t meant to hurt you.”

“You’re stuck with me now, Keegan Russ,” you let out a choked laugh, wiping away your tears with your palms.

“I’ll superglue you to my side.” He teased, running a hand through your hair. “Now, let me please my girl, yeah?”

#writing #cod keegan #keegan p russ x reader #aanxiousangel #call of duty #call of duty ghosts #cod ghosts #fanfiction #ao3 #keegan russ x reader #keegan russ x you #keegan p russ #aanxiousangel writes #aanxiousangel call of duty

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fleetingcalypso · 2 days

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Hello love! i'm absolutely enraptured by your writing. If i could, i'd love to request a Henry Winter x Reader enemies to lovers? Like an absolutely cut-throat academic rivalry that culminates in a dramatic fight and reconciliation at Francis' house? Thank you!

≋ Sometimes attraction blossoms even in the most hostile of places. I'm sure having Henry's life could only benefit from having a rival, turning his world upside down, keeping him on his toes. This is one of my longest works yet, also one I'm not too keen on, nonetheless I pray it captures your interest.

≋ Henry Winter x GN!Reader ≋

≋ Word Count: 4582 words.

≋ TW: mentions of dr*gs, consumption of alcohol, violence (Henry receives a slap in a moment of ire), Edmund "Bunny" Corcoran.

I remember when I initially stepped foot in Julian’s office: most of the words he spoke are lost in time but one thing is forever stitched in the fabric of my memory, he patted me on the shoulder as an affectionate mentor would and with an award winning smile he said, “You’ll fit right in.” It made me feel validated at the time, like I had a place in the world, a bird fallen out of its nest reunited with its family at last. He wasted no seconds in telling me how he would usually limit his students to the odd number of only five, but he could tell there was something about the way I carried myself that would not disturb the peaceful routine he had meticulously crafted.

Classes with Julian were anything but peaceful, to my displeasure, not because of him, not at all. He was a splendid instructor, I often found myself on the edge of my seat with each one of his words. With no surprise, I was not the only one placing him on a crystal pedestal.

One single man made each class feel as though I was being tortured by demons, poked by sharp pointy tails. Each of my comments was brushed off, deemed useless and void of meaning, each paragraph, line, even a single word I read was followed by a deep voice interrupting me and correcting my pronunciation with great emphasis. Thankfully, I had found friends as well, other than a snake spiraling around my ankle, threatening to consume me whole.

The root of all of my headaches, as much as I’d love to strip him of his name, is called Henry Winter.

It’s not to say that I’d let him walk all over me. On more than one occasion, I was victorious after our heated discussions about the accuracy of a translated text or if we were to choose one of the five Greek cases over another. Following each argument his jaw would clench and he’d let out a curt “Very well, then,” before turning his head away and acting as if nothing had happened, although I could without fail notice the tension in his body. It was rather easy, for some unknown reason we’d always find ourselves sitting next to each other, so close our knees touched.

“Henry, is there anything you’re unable to do?” One day I asked him, in Julian’s momentary absence, the question felt only natural to pose: with his expertise in various languages and his familiarity with the world in Ancient Greece being so fascinating. The taunting tone in my voice caught the attention of not only my interlocutor, but the rest of our classmates as well. Six pairs of eyes were fixed on me, some looking more amused than others. His response came only after Bunny elbowed him, egging him on, “Ensuring you will not plague my days, apparently,” he said, pushing his glasses further up his nose. The venom he spat failed to enter my system, nonetheless it makes my gaze narrow.

“You always know what to say.” It’s not a question this time, but an observation which he rewarded with a “Of course I do. Lack of words is for the uncultured.” Our interaction was cut short due to Julian returning, but that would not be the end of it.

That very same day, after our lesson was over we all stood to leave, his hand found the spot on the small of my back as he walked past me, as if it belonged there by birthright. Sometimes I still feel it, the memory creeps up on me in the middle of the night, it keeps me awake whilst making me want more and more of him, like a cruel, vicious, thrilling drug I am unable to have a sober day from.

Class wasn’t the only occasion of the day where we would have contrasting thoughts: once, it happened during a morning when all seven of us sat in the library, open books and notebooks scattered all over our table, “This is going nowhere,” groaned Charles pushing the wrinkled paper he was writing onto towards my direction, “Take a look at this. What do you think?”

It stroked my ego that he chose my opinion over Henry’s and by a flying glance I noticed a slight surprised glint in his blue eyes, though he was quick to conceal it by focusing onto the fountain pan in his hand. I wasn’t the only one surprised by our friend’s choice in who should aid him in his translation.

After a short look, the mistake was clear, “Ah, here it is. Your writing is not inherently wrong, ‘Who dares think one thing, and another tell, my heart detests him as the gates of hell,’ while it is correct, it could be worded in a different way, try: ‘For hateful to me as the gates of Hādēs is that man who hides one thought in his mind, but speaks another.’ That should flow better.” Just to be certain - and perhaps to bother him just a small amount - I turned to Henry, “Shouldn’t it?” He didn’t move for a second before humming and nodding, although I might have overheard him whisper “You’re doing too much,” under his breath. When I handed the paper back to its owner I could spot Francis with his hand over his lips, trying to mask a grin, obviously amused by my exchange with our friend.

The amount of times we’ve debated over the littlest of things, it would take all the stars in the universe to count, and it still would not be enough.

“You’re slow today.” He whispered to me one day, when I hadn’t jumped at the opportunity to answer one of Julian’s queries about the Iliad, his breath tickled my ear and sent goosebumps down the back of my neck. It's true, I was slow. Henry's cologne for some insane reason was all I could think about: his closeness to me, as much as it was far by greatly affecting my attention, it certainly was reluctantly occupying a part of my mind. “Have you considered that not every thought should be spoken out loud?” I argued, the left corner of his lips lifted into a crooked half smile, “Interesting. You could benefit from your own advice.” He said, and it ended there. It left me with something I can’t quite recognize.

Ultimately, every day turned into a competition: petty, small things that held my heart hostage, like who was the first to enter Julian’s office at the beginning of the day, who turned in an essay the fastest, whose penmanship was more aesthetically pleasing and whose comments in class were rewarded with more praise.

Another episode in which I thought our rivalry was set in stone, from the very moment he laid eyes on me, happened during a quiet Wednesday, and we were enjoying a delicious lunch at the twins’ place. Camilla had cooked lamb chops, the rest of us had brought refreshments and some side dishes. Henry got a hold of my chair before I could grab it, he pulled it out for me then took a seat in the chair furthest away from mine.

In the middle of our meal, as I was diving in for seconds, Bunny interrupted the calm atmosphere that had formed by being his usual exasperating self and kicking my leg from under the table, “You know,” He began waving his fork in my direction, with his lips still dirty with food, “I’ve always wondered, whenever you look at Julian with stars in your eyes, is it because you truly care about what he has to say, or is it because you’re trying to suck up to him and get easy marks by being a teacher’s pet? He’s too old for you, you know?” From the seat next to me I swear I could hear Charles choke on his food, Richard’s jaw fell open, Francis looked positively disgusted, Camilla -poor soul- pushed her plate away, as the mental image of me being in love with our professor was plastered into her unwilling mind. The only one with no visible reaction was Henry.

“That’s what I thought as well, at first,” He noted, dabbing his lips with his napkin, “Class with Julian is not a slice of bread even the dirty pigeons on the sidewalk can stumble upon. It is only a matter of time before you realize what blessing you’ve found.” He was a master of masking a mocking undertone in his voice, along with an air of superiority which implied that the one thing he was waiting for was for me to blow up, to storm away, pack my stuff and leave Vermont for good.

“Don’t you think assuming my inability to follow lessons with the rest of you is an insult to Julian’s ability to tell whether someone is worth his time or not? If I were him I’d be quite offended, if I can say so.”

The glare he shot at me, with his blue eyes piercing through his glasses, was enough for me to know I had won; the way he was gripping his fork, his knuckles white as ever, let me know that this was not only a win, this was one of his battleships sinking. This was war, as far as I was concerned, it could only end either with an impossible truce or until one of us was dead in a ditch.

Not wanting to entirely ruin lunch, Francis was the one to change the subject. What he said I do not remember, as I was too busy basking in my own subtle victory to pay attention, but it did work and Henry made no further jabs at me that day. The same cannot be said for Bunny, who seemed to find it exhilarating that I would stand up to Henry the way I did and spent the rest of the day testing my patience.

Since that day, life has been notably bloodless between me and the human thorn in my side, with the occasional exception. I’ve come to notice that, when he is not wasting his time trying his best to get on my nerves, he passes as a truly handsome man. It might be something about the sheer size of him, or it could very well be the way he looks at me,his gaze permanently deeper than the ocean itself, as well as his hands, veiny and large, yet rarely rough in movements. I’m ashamed to admit I’ve spent far too many instants passing glimpses at his fingers, as they slide along the pages of books.

If I have to stand in front of a jury of Gods, though, and speak my naked truth - with no censors - I’d probably reveal that what is so fascinating about Henry is the way he is a bottomless well of knowledge about Ancient Greece. He is devoted to it, as he is devoted to Julian and in some sick twisted way I can’t help but find that veneration attractive.

Against my better judgment, I find myself missing our banter more than anything. The way he stared me down used to give me goosebumps, it still does when my eyelids close and I imagine it.

Summer comes faster than I imagine, faster than lightning striking the Earth, and in the blink of an eye I find myself at Francis’s aunt’s house. All of us fell into a comfortable rhythm while residing here, it was a breath of fresh air compared to our daily life. Playing the piano, reading in the vast library, excursions out to the lake, we kept ourselves busy, enjoying the countryside, keeping what -at the time- felt like the biggest secret of our lives from Richard.

At my awakening I was delighted in discovering everyone else was still deep in sleep. I took it as permission to make some breakfast. I had placed two cups of coffee on the table when he made his way into the kitchen, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and not a single sight of his usual exhaustion on his face. Morning sunlight shines onto his skin, giving it a warm glow, he looks positively saintlike. An archangel descending from the heavens, waiting to be welcomed to my mass, just to notify me that the end is coming sooner than I expect. “I made coffee.” I said, setting a cup in front of him. He looked at it for a moment, just for a moment, before his doubt shrouded eyes met mine, “I have a feeling you’ve poisoned this.” As he was debating whether to accept my offer, Charles joined us. He accepted a cup without a moment’s hesitation, downed it while throwing his head back, then walked off to God knows where, not like I care much.

Henry took a sip only after witnessing that it was indeed safe to do so, I did as well. As the hot liquid met his taste buds I could see him regret he ever came into the kitchen. It was coffee, yes, although unlike my cup which had sugar at the bottom of it, the one he was drinking from had salt in it. A smile tugged at my lips, “Good morning,” I said watching his face scrunch up and force himself to not spit out what was in his mouth. A puzzled look possesses my face as he doesn’t look away from my eyes, not for one second, his eyebrows scrunch while he doesn’t spill a drop of salted coffee, it all slides down his throat. “Good morning.” He replies, coldly, tongue sliding over his bottom lip.

By the time everyone had come to have breakfast, whether it was a glass of wine, whiskey or any drink of their choice, Henry hadn’t moved. With him following my every move, it felt only natural to imagine he’d be scheming something, and my hypothesis would soon reveal itself to ring true, leaving me like a sailor at sea, in the middle of an impenetrable storm.

The sun burns high in the sky, then it slowly melts into the sea, showering the world in tones of red, gold and purple; we spent dawn-to-dark in nature, feeling the blades of grass under our feet, taking turns sitting on a boat floating down the lake and resting by the shadows of the trees with books in our lap, the seraphic nature of the day could have been immortalized in a painting by Michelangelo himself, but no amount of expertise with the brush would be able to capture the unmitigated calm that reigned.

Such a glorious day deserves to have an equally splendid ending, suggested Francis once we retired back to the house. Bottles were hastily opened, alcohol floating in glasses and finding a home between thirsty lips. Inebriation wasted no time in letting inhibitions be on the loose. One small insignificant disagreement accounted as an act of hypothetical insubordination broke into an altercation between me and my nemesis. It went on forever, such an interminable occasion that our friends abandoned us in the kitchen and went on to enjoy their drinks in the library.

“I don’t think you should be here,” His vicious words didn’t faze me at that point, the knowledge that in his idea of a perfect world I was nowhere to be found wasn’t lost on me, “You should get in your car and drive far, far away from where my eye can’t reach.” The first two buttons of his shirt were nonchalantly unbuttoned distracting me for just a moment, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat with each sound caught my attention.

“Careful my friend,” I answered, fingers growing cold from the cool glass in my hand, being gripped with an unusual stability given the wine floating in my system, his face twitched at my name for him, “It almost sounds like my very existence bothers you more than one could imagine.”

“It does. Bother me, it is. It bothers me greatly. I don’t think you should be here” He repeats. As magnanimous as I am, I am no martyr. My glass hits the table with a thud, bright red splashes onto the tablecloth as I raise my voice louder than I would like, “What the fuck is your problem?!” Never in my life had I met a human as frustrating as him, “I can’t imagine I’ve done much to you the first day I sat in that office, yet, you’ve been nothing but unkind towards me.”

“What is my problem?!” He pushes himself to his feet, his voice loud to match mine, “You are my problem! You’re always having something to prove, buzzing about like a working insect devoted to the queen bee, it’s exhausting to even have you sit next to me.” I’m tempted to spill my drink in his face, what a sight it would be: savory red drops slipping down his glasses and hair, wetting his cheeks and jaw until it reached his lip. Instead of that I just shove him, resulting in him stumbling a step backwards, clearly not expecting the mouse to fight back against the owl trying to catch it.

“Have you ever even glimpsed in a mirror?! You act as if you’re so all-mighty, like the rest of the world is merely ants under your shoe! It’s nerve wracking when you find someone you can’t step all over isn't it? How does it feel to have found the one person in the world that does not bow down to you?” He enrages me, in all truth. I can’t bring myself to understand why it is, that now of all times, he makes my blood boil, in more ways than one, “Does it turn your stomach upside down? Is it the only thing you can think about?”

His chest moved for just a single, shaky breath and by now I knew I was playing with fire. If I got burned by touching the sun, at the very least it means I flew high enough to touch it. My hands moved again, ready to push him once again however just a breath before my lips could part to berate him even more his hands caught my wrists.

“You’re a parasite.” He hisses, lowering his face close to mine, by my reflection in the lenses of his glasses it is plain to see his choice of words leaves a mark, not on my face as a slap would, but on my emotions, “You’re a tiny, disgusting, parasite. You’ve single handedly infiltrated yourself in my modus operandi and I am just waiting for the moment I can finally take a moment to breathe again. Since the day you’ve set foot in that office I have, not once, had a chance to relax.” My body reacts before I can allow it to do so, the red handprint forming on his right cheek and his glasses being askew -almost on the brink of falling- confirm that I did, indeed, strike him in a fit of rage. How I was able to free one of my limbs from his death grip I do not know, adrenaline does some wonderful miracles.

“If I’m a parasite,” My voice comes out in a low growl, “Then you best pay attention I don’t end up killing you.” The more I stand in his presence, in this kitchen, having our chests rising in synch with the slowest breaths we have ever taken, I recognize just how much we latch onto each other, how we’ve stitched our existence together with an obsidian thread the very first time we sat with our knees grazing.

“You’ll be the death of me.” He admits in a whisper I can barely hear. Had our faces not been as close as they are, I’d probably would have thought he’d been mouthing nonsense. One second he’s all I can see, with his monumental figure blocking everything else, the next he’s walking away from me, his glass of wine sits on the tablecloth, still full, untouched.

Now I know how Pandora felt as she unintentionally let the vase she was gifted almost grow empty, now I could describe in meticulous detail what a bee feels after its first and final sting.

I do not join my friends in their gathering. My chest aches with something unfamiliar, comfort certainly won’t be known for as long as I find myself anywhere near Henry Winter.

The moon has reached its place in the sky by barely an hour now, a pearl glistening onto a fabric of pure pitch-black, tiny crystals surrounding it, making sure it will never be alone forever and ever. I’ve never seen a tapestry as breathtaking as the one mirroring on the calm surface of the lake I’m strolling by to gather my thoughts. Henry is somewhat right, deep inside of me I can feel it, I’ll be the death of him one way or another. He’s the king, guiding his troops and his courtesans from the comfortable seat of an opulent throne and I’m an approaching invasion, inevitable and threatening destruction for the kingdom he has built from nothing, rooted in the deepest of sins: pride. Hubris seems to get the better of us both with each breath we take.

My anger had settled in the brief sixty minutes I’ve spent admiring the darkness, by myself. Some fireflies with their microscopic body attempt to irradiate the entire lakeside with light, oblivious to their size or the impossibility of their mission.

Tirelessly I recount my life at Hampden, every single moment I can recall gets forced under scrutiny: “You’ll fit right in,” Julian had told me, in his eyes there lived a conviction I’ve noticed only during his enthralling lessons. I’ve only ever known him to speak the holy truth, doubting feels like going against everything I’ve ever known. In my solitude I find contentment, time flows steadily, mimicking a river in which nymphs could find respite.

“So this is where you were hiding.” A deep voice rises among the chirping of crickets, “We couldn’t find you at the house.” And just like that the incantation I’d fashioned myself in dissolves in the cool night air, joining the fireflies in their dance to please the stars and the moon. I hear him before I see him. A colorless shadow approaches me, in an impossibly inky abyss of nature, it can only be him; out of all our friends he’s the only one that can tell what bizarre chemical reactions my brain produces, he’s the only one that can read my thoughts like they were the very first lines of the Iliad, because more often than not he’s thinking the exact same thing.

‘The wrath of Peleus' son, the direful spring Of all the Grecian woes, O Goddess, sing.’ I recite in my mind as the barely human shadow only gets closer and closer, ‘That wrath which hurled to Pluto's gloomy reign the souls of mighty chiefs untimely slain, whose limbs, unburied on the naked shore,’ his footsteps stop behind me, he wants to speak as do I, but neither dare utter a sound, ‘Devouring dogs and hungry vultures tore: Since great Achilles and Atrides strove, such was the sovereign doom, and such the will of Jove!’

Unconsciously I found more satisfaction in rehearsing the words out loud, “Declare, O Muse. In what ill-fated hour, sprung the fierce strife, from what offended power?” And of course, he continued them effortlessly: “Latona's son a dire contagion spread, and heaped the camp with mountains of the dead; The king of men his reverend priest defied, and, for the king's offence, the people died.” We will never stop trying to compete with each other, it is a losing battle: it’s asking the moon to stop being the unmatchable muse for romance poems, it’s asking the cosmos and all of its constellations to disappear.

“You’re not always honest,” I mumbled, disregarding if he’d consider me weak or frail, ignoring the way I could feel him burn a hole in the back of my head, “Tonight you were what I think is the most honest you’ve been in a long time.” He’s my tormentor just as much as I am his.

His knee grazes against mine in the instant he finds a seat on the grass, next to me. His lingering accidental touch takes a hold of me, it’s addictive. “You are a parasite.” He insists and for a moment I think we’re about to raise our voices at each other again, but then he continues with a softer voice, “You’ve latched into my mind, consuming every corner of my life and I am defenseless to it.”

“What do you mean?”

I can’t perfectly see his face in the moonlight, but if he is by any means like me as I know he is, I can consider correct the hypothesis of his pupils being dilated enough to swallow me whole. He drinks me in, like the salty cup of coffee I offered him, he doesn't leave anything behind, doesn’t waste a drop.

“You’re in possession of a great intellect. For a second in your life, put aside the countless feuds we were active participants in and figure it out. You’re hurling me into unwanted and unknown territory.” I know what he means. He could speak every language in the world and I’d still know what each word signifies, in its deepest meaning. It baffles me that he is able to discern my brilliance. He’d never lauded me so. There’s a first for everything, it seems.

“I am not a threat to your leadership, I’m not trying to be.”

He laughs at my words, to my surprise: dry and void of humor, “It’s not my leadership that’s compromised. It’s my heart and mind. While at first I found our game bothersome and quite frankly childish, I’ve unearthed a yearning for it, so influential on my being that I find myself hopelessly wishing you’d dismiss yourself from my life, with the result that I might go back to when you were not the only thing inhabiting my thoughts.”

“I won’t deny I’ve allowed myself to feel the same.” In the dim lighting we sit, I’m appreciative my confession will be the only truly limpid particle of me, I’m not ready for him to see me as I am, not yet, “I yearn for our arguments, for the furrow in your brow and your disapproving stare with each of our disagreements, most of all I yearn for your stimulating presence. Henry, you’re quite the character.”

“So are you. Impossibly infuriating, and delightfully of the essence for me.”

Our friends are waiting for us, I’m acutely aware of it, nonetheless I find myself giving into selfishness for tonight. It is a long way to go, for us two to build a bridge, but with one brick at a time perhaps it is not only a bridge we can erect, but a whole kingdom, with two thrones instead of a solitary one and no invasion to knock at its doors. If his hand slips on top of mine I pretend I do not notice, just like he doesn’t mention my head resting itself on his shoulder. The lake has never looked better, with a bright spotlight shining onto the calm surface, ripped out the pages of a fairytale. Maybe with enough time and effort the fireflies will be able to shine as bright as the moon.

#fleetingcalypso #calypsodaydreams #henry winter x reader #henry winter #the secret history #the secret history x reader #tsh donna tartt #dark academia #reader insert #writing

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sainns · 3 hours

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like or like like ㅤ ⊹ ㅤ sim jaeyun

femreader ㅤ୨୧ㅤ 𝓒ontent . . .ㅤbest friends to lovers (kind of, they don't explicitly start dating), fluff, alcohol consumption, reader gets drunk, not proofread ㅤ──ㅤ 1.5k ( 🗒 )

“i’ve never seen her drunk before,” sunghoon points to where you’re leaning against the wall.

jake turns to look at you, watching as you talk to chaewon. you’re continously taking sips of your drink, a sleepy smile on your face as you listen to your friend’s (most likely) drunk ramblings. he can tell you’re tipsy, at the very least; your body is swaying, it seems like you’re having a hard time staying upright.

“yeah.. i’m gonna go lay her down before it gets worse. i don’t want her to wake up sick,”

sunghoon gives jake a knowing look, shrugging as he takes a sip of his own drink, “predictable,”

“what?”

“nothing,”

sunghoon grins, patting jake on the head before walking away to—jake assumes—bother his girlfriend. the older boy shakes his head, running a hand through his already messy hair, turning around once more to watch you.

this is the first time you’ve ever gotten drunk, he thinks. you’ve mentioned before that it’s because you’re scared of how you’ll act, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of them. he’s glad that you’re more comfortable now, and at least you’re only here with them, your friends, and not at some party full of strangers and weirdos.

he watches as chaewon pats your back, albeit a little forcefully, before she leaves to find someone new to bother. he also watches you attempt to follow her but give up halfway through your first step. he smiles to himself, heading over to where you’re standing—or leaning.

“oookay, no more for you. you can’t even stand straight, dude,” jake takes the red solo cup away and out of your reach, giving you an amused smile. you pout but you don’t put up a fight—you can’t, not fully anyways. if you could, though, you would tell him that he’s being dramatic; six shots and half a cup of jungle juice is hardly anything.

“c’mon, you can go lay down in my room, you look tired,”

“okay,”

you make a move to walk by yourself but jake steps behind you, placing his hands on your waist so that he can guide you away from your friends. it feels like your senses are heightened to a dangerous level because why do you get goosebumps the moment he touches you? you squeeze your eyes shut, forcing your heart to calm down.

somehow you make it to his bedroom without stumbling a whole lot (this is 100% thanks to jake; you were sure that you wouldn’t have been able to do it yourself), and he taps your side, signaling for you to sit down on his bed, which you do.

he kneels down and pulls your shoes off, setting them on the floor. he pats your thigh, leaving yet another wake of goosebumps on your skin, “stay here, ‘kay? i’m gonna go get you some water,”

“i don’t want any,” you whine, “i’m tired, not thirsty,”

“yeah, well, you’ll be thirsty in a little bit,”

“no, i won’t,”

“yes, you will. you’re drunk,”

you huff, throwing yourself back on the bed, “am not. also you’re so annoying. i don’t want water, i always drink water,”

jake snorts at your antics, tucking his head away as he tries to keep from laughing too loudly. after a few seconds, he calms down and looks back at your figure, smiling fondly. you can’t see him, your eyes closed as you hum some random song that he hasn’t heard since he was ten years old.

you look so serene, he doesn’t want to disturb you. he figures he can just tell sunghoon or someone to come bring some water or he can wait for you to fall asleep.

“i’m sad,” you huff, sitting up slowly.

“why are you sad, hm?” he rests his head against your knee.

you frown at him. his words felt slightly condescending. not that you really cared, in fact it kind of made you feel dizzy. wow, he’s just terrible. looking at you all worried, taking care of you while you’re (not) drunk.

“because of you,”

he sits up at that. he looks like a dog who heard the word ‘snack’ or something. of course, he wasn’t happy. he looked more worried than before, in fact.

“me? what’d i do?”

“you’re just annoying,” you whine, “you know, i like you and it’s kinda funny ‘cause i’m, like, so obvious about it,”

“you like me? like like me?”

“well, actually, i love you,” you pause, “you’re not very smart, now that i think about it. how’d you even graduate? did you cheat? i think everyone knows but you. this is so awful, i can’t believe i had to go and like someone so oblivious. you’re lucky everything else cancels that out,”

“wait, wait, wait. you love me? that’s..” jake asks, his face flushed, completely disregarding everything you said after your confession, “yn, you’re.. you know, you’re drunk,”

“oh, okay,” you push his head away, “look, i’ll tell you tomorrow, ‘cos i really mean it and you’re so annoying and it’s, like, oh my god,” you say something else after that but he can’t tell what. not with you speaking as fast as humanly possible paired with drunken slurring.

he nods slowly, processing your words, “yeah.. okay. you can’t forget, alright?”

you grin, poking his cheek, “duh, i have an amazing memory,”

your amazing memory may be your downfall. surely, you had drank enough to wake up the next morning with zero memory. isn’t that what usually happens when someone gets so drunk they tell their best friend that they like them? not even like, you said you loved him.

and now you’re laying in his bed, face pressed into his pillow, absolutely mortified at your past self’s actions.

you’re never going to speak to him again. you’re going to get up, put your shoes on, and sneak out. yeah, it’ll seem like you’re doing the walk of shame, god forbid anyone catches you, but that’d be less embarrassing than having to talk to jake.

you don’t get the chance to attempt to escape, though, because jake walks in right as you’re weighing your options.

“hey, are you awake? it’s two in the afternoon,” you hear him place a glass on the nightstand as he sits next to you.

you could pretend that you forgot.

you feel his hand rubbing your back, “i heard you groaning, get up,”

“i don’t want to,” you mumble into the pillow, pressing your face into it harder.

“i can’t hear you, you know,”

you groan loudly, picking your head up, “i don’t want to get up,”

“why? are you embarrassed?”

“i didn’t do anything embarrassing,” yes you did.

he nods, “nah, you didn’t. i was just checking, you get embarrassed easily,”

you’re quiet for a moment after that. his hand is still rubbing your back and you can feel your heat beating against your chest. you want to pretend that you forgot about last night but for some reason you can’t. you want to bring it up despite feeling naseous at the thought of being rejected.

“i like you,”

he smiles, “yesterday you said you love me,”

you gape at him and he laughs loudly. you want to kill both him and yourself.

“i’m sorry—i’m kidding.. i like you too,” he hums, tilting his head, “no, actually, i love you,”

you frown, “you’re embarrassing me,”

he laughs again which makes you want to both laugh and hide away from him, “god, you’re so cute. i kinda wanna kiss you, is that okay?”

you almost say yes before you remember that you just woke up not even twenty minutes ago and you are not going to kiss him with bad breath. especially not when you were drinking the night before.

“i just woke up,”

he leans forward, close enough that you can just barely lift your head and you’ll be able to kiss him, “so?”

“no,” it pains you to do so but you turn your head away from him. you know he won’t kiss you if you don’t want him to but you’d probably fold and kiss him if he kept staring at you like that, “you can.. uh, later. after i brush my teeth,”

he turns you over onto your back, smiling above you brightly. you gasp at the sudden movement, your heart racing yet again (you should go to the hospital), “promise? i really wanna kiss you right now,”

you laugh, reaching your hand up to move his hair out of his face, “yeah, i promise. i really wanna kiss you too.”

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haoboutyou · 8 hours

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want it, got it | yoon jeonghan

suggestive, strangers to lovers | 1102 words | alcohol consumption

The air is filled with the throbbing beat of the music, a hypnotic rhythm that reverberates through the room, drawing people to the dance floor like moths to a flame. Among the throng of dancers, you move with deliberate grace, your eyes locked on your target—a guy standing by the bar, casually sipping his drink.

You lean closer to your friend, one hand cupping your mouth while the other gestures towards the bar. Your drink sloshes dangerously in your hand, uncaring that drops of the liquor splash onto your hand instead. “Lia!” Your voice sounds hushed over the music. “You see that guy over there?”

“Who?” She yells. The DJ is being annoyingly loud today. She points her head towards the guy by the bar. “That guy?”

Said guy was running his hand through his long dark hair with one hand, the other occupied by a drink. The strobing lights above seem to highlight his delicate features even more as he turns away, showcasing more of his alluring side profile.

You nod, eyes never leaving him. “That’s my boyfriend.”

Lia stares at you incredulously. “Really? When did that start?”

“He doesn’t know that yet, though.”

She spits out the vodka she was drinking. Damn, what a waste of a good drink. “Oh my god!” She doesn’t hesitate to playfully slap your arm when you throw your head back laughing. “I thought you were serious!”

“I am! I’ll make him!”

You quickly down the rest of your drink, wincing at the burn forming in your throat. Just as you reopen your eyes, the man’s eyes locked contact with you. Your heart skips a beat when he winks at you– you’re almost sure the sudden flush on your cheeks was not because of the alcohol in your system.

“You’re insane!” Lia rolls her eyes, nudging your shoulder and giggling. “Use protection!”

You throw a drunken grin at your friend. Just like that, you blow your best friend a kiss with a cheeky wave goodbye. She watches as you skip across the dancefloor, moving to lean against the bar counter next to the alluring stranger. With a final, purposeful adjustment to your dress– a sleek, white number that shimmered in the club's lights– you made your way towards him.

"Is this seat taken?" you ask, your voice smooth and sultry, just loud enough to be heard over the music.

He turns to look at you, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of you. He smiles, a hint of intrigue in his gaze. "Not at all," he replies, his voice alluring. “L/n Y/n.”

“Yoon Jeonghan. Nice to meet you, Y/n”

"Wanna dance?"

He hesitates for only a moment before setting his drink down and taking your hand. Together, you move to the dance floor, the crowd closing in around you. The music seems to pulse through your bodies as you dance, your movements synchronized, the space between you both narrowing with each beat.

You let your hands trail all over his shoulders, your fingers tracing the contours of his collarbones as you move closer. You could feel the heat of his skin, the quickening of his breath. You look up at him, your eyes locking onto his for the second time that night.

"You're a good dancer," you murmur, your lips tantalizingly close to his.

"So are you," he replies, his voice deep with desire. He peeks around you, towards the direction you came from.

“So, what’s this? A bet?” He steps closer to you, his body pressing against yours. A sharp, citrus scent overwhelms you; a welcome change from the sweaty muskiness throughout the rest of the club.

“Saw you whispering with your friend just now. What do you need angel? My name? My number?” He leans into you, hovering by your neck. You can feel his warm breath against your skin heating you up.

“… Something else, perhaps?”

He sees your ears turn red and laughs, a melodic sound that contrasts against the blaring music. Pulling away a little, he lifts one of your hands towards his lips, pressing a soft kiss before he nuzzles against it.

Your hand feels tiny in his. It feels surprisingly delicate, you think. You let your hands linger for a while more before you pull him closer. Your head says ‘fuck it’, already consumed by drunken bravery, and your mouth opens before your brain even finishes processing your actions. Gesturing behind you, your eyes seem to glint with mischief. “I told my friend you’re my boyfriend, but she didn’t believe me.”

Watching you pout adorably despite your scandalous attire is doing things to him. Jeonghan sucks in a breath; he doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s been entranced by you ever since he noticed you across the club at the start of the night.

He tilts his head to the side, dark locks falling across his eyes. “Hmm? That sounds like a problem.” His arm snakes around your waist, nibbling on your ear. “We should fix that, right?”

Your arms wrap around his neck as you start peppering small kisses in between his clavicle and neck, letting out a giggle when you feel Jeonghan’s breath hitch. He sighs, hand relaxing on your waist when you start to nip on his lobe.

“Wai-” He sets his drink down. “Woah, hold on angel.” His thumb caresses your cheekbones, and you lean into his touch. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret– Are you sure?”

See, if you were sober, you wouldn’t dare to fathom going off with some stranger you met in a club. But, as you spot Lia shooting thumbs up from the corner of your eye– as cherry vodka runs through your veins, as Jeonghan stares at you with such seriousness– you’re none the wiser.

“Give me your phone.”

He watches you with mirth as you take his phone from him, sending a quick message to Lia’s number before returning the phone.

“There. Now my friend knows who to find if I go missing.”

He raises a brow at you, still amused by you. “If you go missing?”

“You could be a serial killer, for all I know.” you slide your hand down his chest, feeling him shake in laughter at your words. You hit him playfully at that. “Hey! Being a girl is dangerous, okay!”

“I get it, I get it!” he laughs again. “I promise I’m not a serial killer. I’m supposed to be your boyfriend, right?”

You look up at him through hooded eyes. “Then yes.”

“Yes– yeah. Okay.” A lazy grin graces his face. He gestures towards the exit. “Shall we, then?”

#yoon jeonghan #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan #seventeen #svt #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #seventeen scenarios #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #˙✧˖° aiyu writes ༘ ⋆｡˚

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tcvsfiredemon · 2 days

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Platonic Narumayo and Romantic Tension

I was originally gonna post this as a twitter thread, but it started getting really long and that toxic sludgepit doesn’t deserve that kind of effort. Get yourself a snack or something, it’s gonna get rambly.

I think people who go out of their way to shut down the possibility that there could be any romantic attraction between Nick and Maya are missing out on a really cool aspect of their platonic relationship.

There’s a lot to be said about the many facets of the Narumayo friendship, from their bonding through shared trauma, to their building a found family with Pearl, to their effortless ability to trade off being the straight man of their comedic duo. But I think a lot of people miss how much of their friendship is informed by the fact that they both kinda want to kiss each other.

First off, Maya is constantly teasing Phoenix, and often in a weirdly flirty way. Just a few examples off the top of my head. She says Max is dreamy with stars on his face and immediately suggests Nick put stars on his face. She acts like a spurned lover when Phoenix is talking to Adrian, specifically in an attempt to get him flustered. She explicitly compares Phoenix rescuing her from being kidnapped to the DeLites’ love story.

There’s quite a few moments like this throughout the games, and coupled with a lot of Maya’s actions and reactions, I get the sense that we’re supposed to believe that she has a thing for Nick. Maybe that’s just the shipping goggles talking, but it really does feel like the intended subtext. I mean, look at that what she instinctively drew when she was in

(You’re probably wondering when the platonic part comes in. We’ll get there.)

But even if Maya does have a crush on Phoenix, does he return it? Obviously she’s very important to him, but is that really as a romantic interest? We often see him get flustered or stunned into silence whenever people assume he and Maya are dating(which happens a lot), but I feel like that can easily just be read as him being uncomfortable with people assuming he’s in a relationship with his assistant.

In general, Phoenix’s feelings for Maya are fairly ambiguous and probably not something that he’s thought through too much himself. That is, of course, until the waitress scene. That scene, in my opinion, is the single hardest thing to justify if you’re trying to deny any romantic tension within Narumayo. I’ve seen people say that it’s just Phoenix giving a compliment to his best friend/sister figure, but is that really the tone that’s being conveyed there?

That initial comment on her voice. The pregnant pause when he sees her. The weird pick-up line that probably just came out of his mouth without any thought. That’s not the actions of a guy innocently complimenting his friend, that’s the reaction of a guy who just realized that he finds his friend hot. I’d argue that the case can’t even proceed the way it does unless Phoenix thinks Maya is attractive, because that’s what gives him the idea to try to get her to seduce information out of Kudo.

So between Maya and Phoenix we have two best friends with a lot of chemistry who are probably into each other, and whose friends definitely think are already togeyhet, but we never actually see them take that step into romance. And you know what? It fucking works!

(See, told you we’d get into the platonic stuff eventually.)

One of my favorite movies of all time is When Harry Met Sally, and while the titular couple does get together in the end, most of the film is about the two of them navigating being best friends while obviously having romantic feelings for each other. It’s a beautiful story of these two people building a wonderful platonic relationship and then very nearly ruining it when they try to turn it romantic.

That’s the dynamic I see between Phoenix and Maya. They love each other and are probably in love with each other, but they insist on keeping things strictly platonic because to change that could mean to destroy what they’ve spent years building up. It’s an underlying tension that underscores a lot of their actions.

It’s the dynamic that the two of them still have almost a decade later in SoJ, where they find immense comfort just being in each other’s presence, investigating cases like old times. And no matter how much Phoenix gawks at Maya like a sun fish, no matter how many times Maya teases Nick while they’re investigating a wedding-based case, no matter how much they may or may not want to kiss, they’re so happy just to be friends.

(Not that I’d be mad if they did end up kissing…)

Obviously there’s nothing wrong at all with seeing Narumayo as siblings or as purely platonic friends who would never in their wildest dreams be romantically interested in each other, but I do feel like something is lost in that interpretation.

Like, I’m not the biggest fan of romantic Narumitsu, but I don’t think you can truly appreciate their friendship while ignoring that those guys have a weird pseudo-romantic tension going on. Without it they’re just two dudes who used to be friends and don’t have a whole lot of chemistry but would still for some reason die for each other. Once you acknowledge that “oh, they’re kinda in love, aren’t they” it all makes perfect sense.

I don’t think platonic Narumayo exactly falls apart if you ignore their romantic tension. They still have all that other stuff I talked about, but their relationship loses a lot of richness if it’s reduced to just “besties” or “siblings”. Even the games themselves took a little time to explore the potential romantic tension between Phoenix and Maya, and I think that’s been pretty instrumental in making them one of the coolest male/female friendships this side of When Harry Met Sally.

#ace attorney #narumayo #nickmaya #phoenix wright #maya fey #long post #but seriously #avoid looking up narumayo on twitter #there’s good art #but it’s mostly a hive of villainy

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ihavemanyhusbands · 1 day

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Vidas Pasadas (Past Lives)

PART ONE: THE SHOW MUST GO ON

Mini-Series Masterlist

Also on AO3

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Latina!Reader (Spanish speaking)

WC: 2.5k words

Series Summary: Before the great war, you were an actress—A good friend and frequent co-star of Cooper Howard. After two hundred years in cryogenic stasis, you’re being sent to New Vegas as a performer, but on the way there, things don’t go quite as planned.

Warnings: MINORS DNI, series is 18+, canon typical violence, some angst, friends to lovers-ish?, some miscommunications, eventual smut, chem use, there’ll be some Spanish in there for sure (with translations), cursing, the ghoul being the ghoul, aaaaand that’s all I can think of for now but lmk if anything else!

A/N: This is INCREDIBLY self indulgent, but imagine yourself in these shoes for a moment why don’t you? :) hope you enjoy! pt.1 dedicada ao meu amor @the-devils-littlegirl <33

——————-

The holotape was a little over two hundred years old, but it was in relatively good condition. It contained a talk show interview with two actors who were promoting a Western film. The image was in black and white, fuzzy with time, and the voices sounded tinny.

“So tell me, both of you, what’s it been like working on so many pictures together?” The interviewer, Holden Boyd, asked. “This must be — what, the fourth one?”

“That’s right. You know, Holden, in all my years in this industry, I have never met anyone more professional,” Cooper Howard, the handsome hero of the film, turned to you, sitting beside him. “But she also knows how to keep things balanced between work and play. We laugh a lot behind the scenes, actually.”

“Really?” Holden asked, leaning forward with renewed interest. “Well, that doesn’t surprise me, you two have some incredible chemistry on screen.”

“Well, gee, Coop, do we really?” You couldn’t help but grin at him, making him chuckle. “Maybe that’s why we keep getting cast together.”

“And how’s his Spanish? Are you teaching him any?” Holden asked you.

“I’ve certainly tried,” you said, raising an eyebrow in amusement. “Say something, why don’t you?”

Cooper’s smile turned sheepish, shaking his head. “Errr… No muy bueno, pero intento.”

His thick southern accent made you and Holden laugh, invariably charmed. In the background, claps and cheers from the live audience, equally smitten. Cooper always knew how to win people over, it was like second nature to him.

“He’s a natural!” Holden exclaimed. “Say the line Coop, you know the one.”

Cooper cleared his throat, squared his shoulders and pretended to point a gun, his expression fully serious.“Feo, Fuerte, y Formal.”

An eruption of cheers, louder than before. You clapped in delight, smiling ear to ear as you bumped your shoulder against his playfully.

“Ah, I see you’ve found our tapes,” the mechanical voice of vault thirty-one’s overseer startled you.

You looked down at… it, still not used to interacting with a motorized brain suspended in some sort of tank. Bud, you thought it said its name was. Vaguely familiar, but your memories were still hazy, having been in cryogenic stasis for so long.

“Why do you have these?” You asked.

“Everything pertaining to Hollywood was preserved for archival purposes. Feel free to watch anything you like,” Bud said. “We have all of your films, as well as interviews, press clippings, and pictures.”

You looked back at the screen, crossing your arms over your chest and trying not to shudder. You had me, too. You thought, stomach turning. A shiny toy shelved away for later use.

You’d gotten a spot in vault thirty one in exchange for compliance — after all, the future would need entertainers, right? And the nostalgia factor would just sell so well. You would be totally set for whatever came… or so they’d said.

It hadn’t seemed like a terrible deal at the time, but you hadn’t truly realized how tremendous the losses would be. Or how much things could veer off course in two centuries.

Cooper was gone, and so was everyone else you had ever cared for. Bud hadn’t said what happened to your former co-star, but it didn't need to.

You had entered the vault all by yourself, with no family or spouse to consider. And just a few days ago, you had been greeted by that same loneliness when you’d emerged from the pod.

Some things never changed, it seemed. Perhaps New Vegas wouldn’t be a terrible distraction, all things considered.

“Feels like it was only yesterday…” you said, keeping the melancholy out of your voice.

“Doesn’t it? That’s the best part of the stasis pods. Keeps one fresh,” Bud said, chipper. “How’s your head feeling, by the way?”

“Better,” you sighed. “Barely any pain left.”

“Oh, good. You should be ready to travel to New Vegas in a couple more days. I’ve been in touch with a trusted courier that should be able to escort you there safely.”

A tinge of fear in your chest. “How… bad is it out there?”

“Well, er, it’s… not great. But we’ll get there! I’ve heard New Vegas has a lot more going for it than these parts,” Bud said quickly, not wanting to linger on the negative. “Vault twenty one, where you’ll be staying, was turned into a hotel. Lots of people passing by. I’m sure it’ll be easy for you to attract the crowds.”

Stepping towards the projector, you ejected the holotape, unable to watch any more. The memories would consume you far too easily, if you let them. That life had crumbled to dust long ago, and there was nothing you could do to change that, either.

What other choice did you have but to trudge forward?

“For both our sakes, Bud, I really hope that’s true.”

————————————-

As with most things, Bud had severely understated just how bad things were on the surface. The sight of it had instantly struck you— Nothing was left but ruins and desert plains stretching as far as the eye could see. No one but you and the courier — a weathered, gruff looking middle-aged man — around for miles.

You’d left your vault suit behind in exchange for the clothes you’d worn when you first went in. You were also given a small survival pack, a tranquilizer gun, and a pip boy, but that was the extent of your belongings.

The courier handed you a hat and an old scarf to cover yourself from the sun and the sand, instructing you to keep close before whirling around and starting to walk.

Did he even say what his name was? You couldn’t recall, but you were too busy being in shock to care too much.

It was all so unceremonious, unlike what you’d been used to in the past. No cars or any other mode of transportation, no roads to smoothly cruise on. No kind words offered for your departure, except for Bud’s overly enthusiastic Good luck! before opening the vault’s enormous door.

“Say, how long do you think the… trip is going to take?” You asked, trying to keep your fear at bay.

“Around three weeks, give or take. That is, if the weather holds and we keep a good pace during the day,” the courier said. “Can’t be out at night around these parts.”

You swallowed hard, wondering what sorts of dangers lurked out there. You had some stunt training, but no actual fighting skills. Hopefully, the tranq gun would be enough, but you also suspected your companion had far deadlier weapons.

Better to stay on his good side, you thought.

“First stop’s at a town called Filly. Got some quick business to take care of there, so we’ll be spending the night,” the courier continued when you didn’t respond. “Keep your head down and let me do the talking. Don’t want anybody to recognize you.”

You nodded, letting out a long sigh.

“Hopefully they’ve got showers there,” you said, imagining how calming the hot stream of water might be.

The courier looked at you over his shoulder, incredulous, and barked out a laugh. Your face heated up at his ridicule, mumbling something about vault dwellers to himself with a shake of his head.

You walked in silence for the next couple of hours, trying to guess what area you might be passing through. Briefly, you wondered if the ruins of your old house still stood somewhere, and if you’d be able to find them.

But you reminded yourself not to dwell on what no longer existed.

Soon enough, you started to see signs of humanity. A few stragglers here and there, but the courier steered you in different directions whenever he spotted larger groups. Raiders, he’d told you, a grim look on his face.

You hurried your step, wanting to put as much distance between you and them as possible. Bud had given you a very basic rundown of what you might encounter on the surface, but while some of it was hard to believe without seeing it firsthand, raiders did not fall under that category.

Still, despite the danger, at least you were reassured that you weren’t the only people left around.

Filly was a ramshackle town made up of scraps; A small testament of humanity’s endurance. Vendors were hawking questionable food and other wares at the outskirts of it, the tight pack of more bodies making you nervous.

Your senses were invaded by smells and noises and even the occasional passerby bumping into you. Life was still brimming, as chaotic as it may seem. Somehow, it made you feel the smallest flicker of hope.

The courier led you through the crowd and down a rickety stairway towards a small square, where there was a little more room to move. The sun was beginning to set, bright tendrils of orange and gold tinting the sky.

For a brief moment, you stopped to look at it, moved almost to tears by the simple beauty of a sunset. At least, that hadn’t changed either, and you vowed to never take them for granted again.

“This way,” the courier said, urging you to move.

Unbeknownst to you, someone had taken notice of the two of you. More specifically, the courier. A hit had been placed on him, worth three hundred caps. There was no reason given for it, but he hadn’t thought to ask questions, anyway. He didn’t much like meddling unnecessarily.

He surreptitiously followed behind, keeping his distance so you wouldn’t notice him. He already stuck out like a sore thumb, what with being a ghoul and all. But, like any bounty hunter worth his salt, he still knew how to lay low.

The courier led you into a repurposed building that rented out closet sized rooms. You paid with a few of the caps Bud had put in your survival pack, relieved that you wouldn’t have to share a room.

The courier was curt but prudent, in his own way. You were just a task to him, and you knew he would protect you as best as he could because of it. You had nothing against him so far, but you didn’t want to take your chances regardless.

“Stay in your room, I’m gonna head out for a bit. I’ll bring back some food,” he said, turning to leave.

“Wait!” You hurried behind him, out into the open, where it was growing darker. “Wouldn’t it be better to, uh, stick together?”

“It’s private business,” he grunted, annoyed. “Besides, you’ll be safer in there.”

“But—”

“Hey, you,” you heard from behind you, followed by a commanding whistle. “Sabinez, is it?”

The courier looked up, his eyes immediately widening. “Oh, fuck.”

You followed his gaze, finding a… cowboy. His face was mostly obscured underneath the brim of his hat, but his lack of a nose was still strikingly apparent. Radiation burns marred what little skin you could see, the rest covered in old, tattered leathers.

A ghoul, from what Bud had described. The see-it-to-believe-it kind of danger. Your stomach dropped.

He was pointing his revolver at the courier – Sabinez – finger about to squeeze the trigger.

“No, please!” You exclaimed, panicked.

Foolishly, without even thinking about it, you stepped in front of him, arms extended in an attempt to further shield him. The ghoul raised his hairless eyebrows, both amused and surprised.

“I need him,” you said, heart beating so fast you feared it might leap out of your chest. “Please.”

“How sweet,” the ghoul said mockingly, one hand on his chest. “But as it turns out, sweetheart, I need him, too.”

Before you could react, he raised the barrel of the revolver infinitesimally and fired. A dizzying moment in which the bullet whizzed by your head, and Sabinez’s body slumped behind you, his blood spraying at your back.

Any onlookers that had stuck around scattered to safety, not wanting to be next in line for whatever the ghoul had planned. You let out a choked sound, too shocked to even scream. Shuddering, you slowly looked over your shoulder, only to avert your gaze quickly.

“No,” you murmured, horrified. “No, no, no…Fuck!”

It was just your luck, encountering death the very first day you finally returned to the surface. You wondered if you should fall to your knees and beg for mercy, but your body refused to move.

The ghoul’s spurs clinked as he stepped towards you, and you raised your hands in surrender, keeping your eyes down.

“You the cargo?” He asked, tilting his head to one side in curiosity. “Let’s get a better look at’cha.”

You whimpered as he grasped one of your arms, his other hand tugging down the scarf that covered half your face. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, eyes roaming over your features.

“Look at me,” he ordered, voice low.

Swallowing hard, you finally dared to look up at him. Tears clung to your lashes, a stray one running down your cheek. He looked more skeletal up close, his eyes sunken in, cheekbones prominent, and of course there was the cavern where his nose would be.

He removed your hat next, letting go of you and taking a step back. There was something in his expression you couldn’t quite decipher, but you felt a creeping sense of deja vu the longer you looked at him.

“You…” he said, something like recognition in his voice, as well as disbelief.

“I–Please, I don’t know w-what he did to you but I don’t–” You started to babble, but he interrupted.

“Where were y’all heading off to?”

“U-um, New Vegas, uh, sir?” You tried to smile placatingly, but it was watery and would slip away at any moment.

Not only was it strange for him to see you alive and in the flesh, but you were also fearing him. He remembered your earnest smiles, genuinely pleased to see him. Then again, you hadn’t yet recognized who he was.

He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted you to know, but he also didn’t really want to let you go on your own way. Plus, he’d just killed your only guide, so it was only fair that he took on the job and saw it through.

That way, he could try to find out more about all that had happened, without giving himself away.

“New Vegas, huh,” he mused, letting out a low whistle. “That’s a long ways away, especially if you don’t know where you’re goin’...But it’s your lucky night, sweetheart, ‘cus I just so happen to know the way.”

“R-really? I could pay you if you’d h-help me!” you said quickly, rummaging through your pack to show him some caps. “I’m not sure how much would be enough but… I’ll be making more once I start working.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist now, we can do some negotiating later,” he drawled, lips curling in a smirk as he looked up at the building behind you. “Hope you don’t mind us bunking together.”

Your entire face heated up. “Uh, you can take his room. It’s already paid for.”

“Well, what a generous fella he was,” he said, tossing your stuff back at you. “Jus’ don’t come runnin’ when you get nightmares. I ain’t much of a cuddler.”

----

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard fanfiction #the ghoul fanfiction #the ghoul x you #cooper howard x you #fallout fanfiction #fallout smut #cooper howard #the ghoul

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sagesolsticewrites · 1 day

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Love’s Light Wings: Chapter 1 (“as boundless as the sea”)

John Brady x Juliet Thompson (OFC)

John Brady finally returns home, overjoyed to see his mother, and with a question to ask Juliet— who’s been waiting for him to come home to her for nearly two long years.

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: none, I think? But please let me know if I missed anything!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Hugest of huge shoutouts to @winniemaywebber and @ginabaker1666 for reading this many many times before I posted it I love y’all 💕

Masterlist | read the prologue here!

“Juliet.”

At the sound of her name, Juliet jolts back to reality, pausing in her anxious thumbing through the pages of the book in her lap. She looks towards where the sound came from: her mother in the passenger seat in front of her.

She folds her hands together, trying to keep them still.

“Sorry, I—”

“I know you’re nervous, sweetheart,” her mother says, reaching back to pat her knee, “He may be a little different, after everything,” she acknowledges, “but he’s coming home. And that’s what matters.”

Juliet nods, turning to look out the window at the passing buildings on their way to the station.

“I know, Mama.”

The car is silent for the remainder of the drive as her father pulls up to the already crowded station, grumbling softly to himself about how they should’ve left earlier.

The little Thompson clan makes their way inside, Juliet keeping her eyes peeled for—

“Helen! Over here!”

Mrs. Alice Brady— John’s mother— stands near a pillar just on the outskirts of the platform where John’s train is meant to arrive, waving to get their attention.

They make their way over to greet her, making a halfhearted attempt at small talk— a near-impossible task when they all know John will be arriving any minute from his brief detour to Oklahoma. Sweet, wonderful, dedicated man that he was, his first priority stateside was to travel with his co-pilot to pay his respects to the family of one of his fallen crew members, and no one could fault him for making them wait a few extra days for that.

“Oh, he’ll be so excited to see you, sweetheart,” Mrs. Brady says with a watery smile, squeezing Juliet’s hand.

“Not nearly as excited as he’ll be to see you, Mrs. Brady,” Juliet assures her. John may be the love of her life, but he’s a mama’s boy through and through. “He always asks if I’ve been checking in on you in his letters, you know.”

“My sweet boy… I hope you told him not to worry about me too much, honey. I tell him myself as well, of course, but you know it’s no use.”

“I did my best,” Juliet jokes, Mrs. Brady’s responding laugh a spot of sunshine in her cloudy demeanor.

Then, there’s the faint sound of something rolling down the tracks. The hiss of steam. The high-pitched sound of a train whistle.

The entire platform goes silent for a moment, then joyful chaos erupts as the train comes into view, soldiers waving from windows in the distance.

It’s utter pandemonium as the train comes to a squealing stop, loved ones storming the train cars as soldiers search the immense crowd for family, friends, lovers.

Juliet instinctively grabs her mother’s and Mrs. Brady’s hands in an attempt to keep their group together as the crowd flows around them, scanning desperately for any glimpse of John.

“Ma!”

A familiar shout stops Mrs. Brady in her tracks, and Juliet turns to see John Brady fighting his way through the crowd towards his mother.

She flings herself into her son’s arms, tears streaming down her face. A sob of “you’re home” is all Juliet hears before she steps away to give them a bit of privacy. She can’t help the tears that spring to her own eyes watching him hug his mother tight, some part of her still refusing to believe that it’s real, that he’s finally back.

Her own mother squeezes her hand, her watery eyes a mirror of Juliet’s as she gives her a soft smile. Juliet focuses on the feeling of her mother’s hand in her own, that grip being the sole thing keeping her from floating out of her body at the moment, her mind a disbelieving loop of he’s here he’s here he’s here.

Then Mrs. Brady finally releases her son, and John turns to her with that shy, cheeky smile she first fell in love with, diverting her attention from his own eyes brimming with tears.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says in a tight voice.

Her feet carry her to him as if they have a mind of their own, and then she’s flinging her arms around him, her own tears streaming over her cheeks, his name escaping her in a sob. John holds her tight, pressing soft kisses to the crown of her head, her forehead, her temples, anywhere he can reach as she buries her face in his neck.

Though his hug is just as fierce as it’s always been, his uniform is doing little to hide how thin he’s become, and it makes her want to shatter on the floor and force him into bed so she can nurse him back to health simultaneously.

He moves to pull away, presumably to get a good look at her after so long, but Juliet is loath to let him out of her arms just yet. He relents, wrapping his arms around her for a few moments more before leaning down to whisper tenderly in her ear.

“I’m home, honey. I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon,” he whispers with a brush of his lips to her ear, “Let me look at you, hm? I wanna see my girl, my Jules.”

With a nervous, watery laugh, she pulls away to meet his eyes, hyperconscious of the tears and mascara streaming unattractively down her face.

John simply takes her in, a fond smile on his face as his thumb swipes under her eyes, whisking away her tears.

“There she is,” he murmurs, tucking a stray curl behind her ear, “How did you manage to get even more beautiful while I was gone, honey?”

She can’t even begin to think of a reply, but it doesn’t matter because soon his lips are on hers and nothing else matters but the fact that he’s here and safe and whole.

Eventually they pull apart, her arms around his neck, one of his hands tenderly cupping her cheek.

“I missed you so much, Johnny,” she breathes, pressing her forehead to his as her eyes close, trying to memorize every detail of this moment.

“I missed you more, Jules.” Comes his soft reply, brushing a kiss to her nose just to hear her delighted giggle, nose scrunching up adorably.

They both jump at the sound of her father clearing his throat behind them, separating sheepishly. John takes it in stride though, leaning forward to accept Mr. Thompson’s handshake.

“Welcome home, son.”

“Thank you very much, sir,” he says with a single firm shake that has her father nodding respectfully.

Then it’s Mrs. Thompson’s turn for a hug, almost as enthusiastic as his own mother’s, and Juliet can’t help but grin at the way she dotes on him like a son.

“We’d better leave now if we want to beat all this traffic back home,” Mrs. Brady says, glancing around at the other happily reunited families filing out to the parking lot, “Will you all be joining us for dinner?”

She turns to the Thompsons, an expectant smile on her face.

“We’d love to,” Mrs. Thompson answers, adding “As long as it’s not an imposition, of course—”

“Nonsense, you’re always welcome,” Alice assures her.

With some back and forth, the mothers figure out an arrangement to meet at the Brady home in an hour, giving John time to get settled in before dealing with guests.

The hour passes quickly, and soon the Thompsons are standing on the front step, Juliet’s mother holding a container of chocolate chip cookies she had frantically taken from the cookie jar— “We can’t go empty-handed, sweetheart,” she had reminded Juliet at the look on her face.

Mrs. Brady had greeted them happily, ushering them inside to a spread of what Juliet recognized as all of John’s favorite foods.

Speaking of John…

“Hello, everyone.”

He enters the dining room smiling, still in his uniform, and Juliet abandons all propriety to rush into his arms, John easily catching her with a laugh.

“I know it’s only been an hour, but I missed you too, honey,” he chuckles softly into her ear before releasing her to greet her parents.

They settle at the table for dinner, and retire to the sitting room for drinks after dessert, where John and Juliet curl up on a loveseat off to the side while the parents chatter.

“How have you been, Jules?” He asks softly, entwining his fingers with hers as he adds with a soft laugh, “I couldn’t exactly get updates on the boat over, so I want to hear everything.”

“Are you sure?” She asks, slightly confused even as she teases, “You didn’t get sick of all my rambling after all this time?”

“I could never get tired of your rambling, sweetheart,” he assures her, “And… I could use some normalcy right now after… everything.”

His eyes drift to the family picture sitting on the mantle: him as a teenager, flanked by his mother and his father, and Juliet recalls with a pang that his father never got to see him come home— how could she have forgotten?

“Well,” she begins, gently drawing his attention back to her, “We’re getting ready for final exams, and there’s one boy who— bless his heart— is nearly failing but he seems to think if he aces the final he’ll be fine—”

Her rambling is interrupted, however, by Mrs. Brady coming around to collect the remaining dishes.

“Oh let me help you—”

“I’ve got it sweetheart, you don’t have to—”

“I want to, please,” Juliet insists with a smile, and she follows John’s mother into the kitchen.

“So John,” Mrs. Thompson turns to him, “do you have any plans now that you’re back home?”

“I’m hoping to get back into teaching,” he says with a smile, “Hearing Jules talk about it made me realize how much I missed it.”

“Oh, that’s lovely,” Mrs. Thompson beams.

“I also, uh…”

His eyes flick anxiously between Jules’s parents as he steels himself, his audience waiting patiently for him to continue.

“Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, I love your daughter very much. Juliet… she’s the most wonderful person I’ve ever met, and I know that’s because of the wonderful parents she has. Your daughter means the world to me, and I’d…” His mouth goes dry, and he swallows nervously before continuing, “I’d be honored to have your blessing to ask her to marry me.”

Silence.

It stretched between them, and the longer they were silent the bigger the pit of dread in Brady’s stomach got until—

“Son,” Mr. Thompson says with a smile as he stands, reaching out for a handshake, “It would be an honor to have you as part of our family.”

He scrambles to his feet after a moment of stunned silence, returning the handshake eagerly.

“Thank you very, very much, sir.”

Juliet’s mother is beaming as she stands to give John a hug, glancing surreptitiously towards the kitchen before asking quietly, “When would you like to ask her? Do you have a ring yet?”

“I— well, I’m not quite sure about when, but I know I’d like to do it as soon as possible— properly, of course. And as for the ring…”

He takes the ring box his mother had given him out of his pocket, opening it to reveal a small emerald nestled between two even smaller diamonds, set in a delicate gold band.

“It was my grandmother’s,” he explains, unconsciously tilting it to catch the light so the emerald shines the same color as Juliet’s eyes, “I saw it one day and it just… made me think of her.”

“It’s lovely, John,” Mrs. Thompson breathes, “She’ll love it.”

“I hope so,” he replies sheepishly, tucking the box back in his pocket.

Juliet’s laughter drifts in from the kitchen, her and his mother’s voices getting louder as they return to the group.

“Is that the time already?” Mrs. Thompson says, saving John from scrambling to make up a topic of conversation as Juliet returns to his side, “Alice, this was lovely, thank you so much for having us, but we really should be going if we want to get to church on time tomorrow. We’ll see you there, yes?” she asks as they say their goodbyes in the foyer, beaming at Mrs. Brady’s confirmation that yes, they will, as well as the Thompson’s Sunday luncheon afterwards

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Helen,” Mrs. Brady grins, and with that the Thompsons begin to make their way back to the car.

“Well?” she turns to her son expectantly, the Thompsons long gone.

The smile on his face tells her everything she needs to know, even as he rambles in disbelief about how nervous he was, how accepting and even excited Juliet’s parents were, and how he can’t wait to ask her tomorrow.

“Tomorrow?” His mother says, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“I—” John blinks, as if he’d even surprised himself with that, “Yeah, I… I’ve already gone too many years without her. I don’t wanna wait any longer than I have to.”

A tender smile spreads across her face seeing how John softens just thinking about Juliet.

“I’m so happy for you, Johnny.”

“Ma, I haven’t even asked her yet,” he reminds her sheepishly, “And she hasn’t said yes.”

“She will, honey. Trust me.”

Juliet can’t help the smile on her face when they walk into church the next morning, seeing John talking quietly next to his mother in their pew.

Right where he should be, some small voice in the back of her mind supplies as they slide in next to the Bradys.

He turns to greet them, his gaze softening as it meets hers.

“Hi,” he says softly, a tender undertone filling the casual greeting with a warmth that spreads throughout Juliet’s body.

“Hi,” she replies in the same soft tone, wondering if she’ll ever really get used to hearing his voice again after so many years of nothing but letters.

The brief greeting is all they have time for before everyone stands as Mass begins.

John’s trying to pay attention-- it’s his first Mass back home, with his mother, at the church he grew up in, he truly is trying his best to pay attention.

But not only is Juliet driving him to distraction in that dress— does she truly have no idea how stunning she looks?— he can’t stop picturing her in this very church, in an entirely different dress, on an entirely different occasion.

He’d be standing at the end of the aisle, in his best suit. Flowers— gardenias, of course— would adorn the space, their friends and family filling the pews. A wedding march would start to play. He’d turn as the doors opened, revealing Juliet… his Juliet, looking utterly radiant in a white gown, a diaphanous veil covering her face, an emerald the same color of her eyes glittering on her left hand—

A gentle nudge to his left jolts him out of his thoughts, and he turns to see Juliet giving him a concerned look, eyebrow raised in a silent “Everything okay?”

He flushes— apparently he wasn’t as subtle in his daydreaming as he thought. All he can do is offer a sheepish smile, reaching over to squeeze her fingers for the briefest of moments before returning his attention— what remains of it, anyway— to the front for the rest of the service.

“We’ll see you in a bit!” Mrs. Thompson waves as the congregation files out to the parking lot, Mrs. Brady returning her farewell with a smile.

“See you later,” Juliet grins, brushing a chaste kiss to John’s cheek before following her parents to their car.

His mother gives him a knowing look as they slide into their own car, John putting on his most innocent expression.

“What?”

“You seemed a bit distracted today, that’s all,” Mrs. Brady says, “Everything alright?”

“I’m fine, Ma,” he assures her, absentmindedly running his thumb over the small velvet box resting in his pocket, “Just… missed being home.”

Her lips twitch up into a smile, watching her son fondly as they drive home— she’s got a potato salad sitting in the fridge for the church luncheon.

“She’s going to say yes, honey.”

John blinks.

“Wh—?”

“I’m your mother, you can’t hide anything from me John,” she says matter-of-factly, “I know exactly why your head was in the clouds today, and I know—” she turns to give him her full attention as they park in the driveway, “— that you and Juliet are going to have a beautiful life together.”

A tender smile spreads across John’s face as he looks down at his lap, eyes softening at the thought of a whole life with his girl.

“Thanks, Ma.”

“Always, sweetheart. Now let’s go,” they step out of the car, “the faster we get you through this lunch, the faster I get a daughter-in-law.”

“Ma!”

To say sitting through a lunch with nearly everyone he knows when he just wants five minutes alone with Jules is torture is, well… he knows it’s not— he’s been through too much to say otherwise— but it’s the closest thing to it he’s experienced since arriving home not even 24 hours ago.

The ring box is burning a hole in his pocket even as he approaches the Thompsons— Juliet on the other side of the room caught up in a conversation with one of their neighbors— politely greeting people as he passes.

“John, there you are,” Mrs. Thompson grins before lowering her voice “Your mother was saying something about you wanting to ask Juliet today?”

He does his best to smother his grin— of course that was the first thing she talked to them about.

“Yes, ma’am. I was hoping I could get a moment to talk to her once everyone else is gone…”

“We’ll take care of it,” she assures him.

“Take care of what?”

Juliet pops up behind her mother, eyes flicking suspiciously between her parents and John.

“Nothing, sweetheart,” her father says, “Just catching up with John here. He was just telling us that he’s looking to go back into teaching, isn’t that right?”

“Yes sir,” John nods, unable to help the grin on his face as he sees Juliet light up.

“Oh that’s perfect, Johnny!” She beams, “I’ll ask around and see if there are any openings.”

“I appreciate it, honey.” He smiles, arm sliding easily around her shoulders as she sidles up next to him.

He presses a kiss to the crown of her head, steeling himself for more socializing as she pulls him along to yet another neighbor.

Finally, what feels like years later, the last few guests have said their goodbyes-- save for the Bradys, who have insisted on staying behind to help clean up.

“Juliet,” Mrs. Thompson says once every available surface in the kitchen is covered with dishes to be cleaned, “why don’t you show John the garden? Alice and I will take care of all this.”

She turns to her mother, a puzzled look on her face. “No, I’d be happy to help, mama—”

Mrs. Brady steps in, gently shooing them off, “You two take some time to catch up without us meddling parents,” she teases, “Let us mothers gossip, hm?”

“ As long as you’re not gossiping about us,” Juliet teases back, but turns and leads John out to the back garden, where an assortment of vegetables have replaced what used to be a thriving variety of flowers.

“With all the rationing, Mama figured it would be better if we grew our own food,” she explains, fingers entwined with his as they walk along the brick border separating the garden from the rest of the yard. A smile spreads across her face as she adds, “But I convinced her to save some of the flowers.”

She points to a small section of tilled soil just below her bedroom window, where a white-blooming gardenia grows.

“Of course you did,” he says fondly, grinning as he presses a kiss to her temple, “It’s almost as pretty as you.”

She tucks her face into his shoulder in an attempt to hide the growing smile on her face.

“Hush.”

“What?” Brady laughs, “I can’t give my girl a compliment? Especially after I was away for so long…”

Juliet’s smile fades slightly at that, pressing ever so slightly closer to him as if to remind herself that he’s really there.

“I missed you so much,” she murmurs, her voice barely a whisper.

His hand comes up to tuck a dark curl back behind her ear, thumb stroking along her cheek until she lifts her head to meet his eyes.

“I missed you too, honey. More than you know.” He says softly, taking a shaky inhale before continuing “You know what got me through being in… in that place?”

Juliet shakes her head, quietly waiting for him to continue.

“Your letters, sweetheart. Well, Ma’s too,” he adds with a soft laugh, “But getting to hear you just talk about the kids, your parents, keeping me updated on the tiniest things like it was nothing… I didn’t realize how badly I needed a reminder of what was waiting for me back here until you kept giving them. And I realized something while I was over there.”

He pauses, exhaling shakily, and Juliet waits patiently for him to continue. Eventually, his gaze meets hers as he says reverently, “I wanted that, every day for the rest of my life. I want to hear about your Shakespeare lectures, about which kids are trying to get out of the grammar quiz, about which person in your book club is getting on your nerves—”

There’s a pause, and Juliet’s heart skips a beat as she realizes what’s happening.

“Johnny…” she breathes, hand flying to her mouth as he sinks down onto one knee in front of her, removing a small box from his pocket.

“‘I would not wish any companion in the world but you’,” he says in that soft, hesitant way that tells her he worked tirelessly to make sure he got the quote right— and he did, she notes gladly, from Act 3 of Tempest, and that’s an extra layer of wonderful because Tempest isn’t one she talks about very often so he must have been paying very close attention— “I never want to be apart from you again, sweetheart. I want to spend the rest of my life by your side, so…”

Tears are already streaming down her cheeks as he opens the box to reveal a delicate emerald ring, his own voice becoming thick as he continues, “Juliet, will you marry me?”

She nods furiously, the words fumbling in her mouth for a moment before she finally gasps “Yes, yes!”

A mix of relief and joy and utter adoration flashes across John’s face as he stands, reverently slipping the ring onto her left hand before dipping to capture her lips in a tender kiss.

A watery, joyful laugh escapes her as they break apart, so utterly happy she feels she might burst.

John’s gaze trails over her face almost in disbelief, thumb tracing over the ring nestled snugly on her finger. He opens his mouth to say… well, he’s not sure what to say. There aren’t words for the wondrous joy he’s feeling in this moment, so he settles for leaning in for another kiss--

A muffled shriek from inside causes them both to jump, Juliet’s forehead narrowly missing John’s nose, then there’s the sound of dishes being swept into the sink, followed by a:

“George! She said yes!”

Blue eyes meet sparkling green for the briefest moment before they collapse into giggles, and that is how the Thompsons and Mrs. Brady find them: laughing together in the garden, the emerald on Juliet’s hand shining in the sunlight.

#love’s light wings #love’s light wings: brady & juliet #john brady #john brady x oc #john brady x ofc #oc: juliet #oc: juliet thompson #masters of the air #masters of the air oc #mota #mota oc #my writing

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