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glitterforashes · 5 months

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𝐛𝐞𝐣𝐞𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐝 ; 𝐚𝐳𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

>> fluff, revenge fic, healing, self-empowerment, woman empowerment, women, just women, i love women, regaining self confidence. when i tell ya’ll that i squealed when i got this idea, i SQUEALED. originally this was just gonna be like an az x reader fight fic, but this is much better. the ending kinda sucks so excuse that!!! hope you enjoy<3

“you look.. beautiful.” azriel said, watching as you descended the winding staircase in one of rhys’ many estates, holding up your skirts gingerly. your face shone brighter than stars in the sky as you stepped softly onto the landing pad of the stairs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “promise..?” your soft voice was hardly above a whisper compared to the sound of wind raging outside, slamming against the walls and scratching at the windows. “always.” azriel extended his hand to you. you took it.

tonight was the annual gala held for the courts. every year a high lord would host the gathering in their court, and every other lord was free to attend and invite whoever they pleased. it was the night courts turn to host, right around the time of solstice— which meant you and your lover had spent very little time together in the last few weeks. very, very little time. rhysand had been running around like a chicken with his head cut off for days, planning an entire months worth of festivities, and of course azriel was one to help with that.

you had offered to help, but were turned down. “just stay here and look pretty.” cassian had said. the scowl you gifted him in return was angry enough to keep the room warm for several days. needless to say, you spent the first week pouting in your room. but now the time had come to celebrate and flaunt all the things your high lord had accomplished in the short time he had owned such a title. you wore a dark crimson dress, dangly pearl earrings, and multiple dainty white bracelets. your dress dipped generously between your breasts, stopping above your belly button, the back was open— putting your spine tattoo on display. the fabric was long, pooling around your ankles and dragging a bit on the floor in the back. azriel wore a black suit with a crimson undershirt and had little pearls keeping the cuffs of his sleeves in place.

azriel’s thumb rubbed the back of your hand in slow circles as he gazed down at you. you watched every thought he had run across his eyes like a film before he shook himself out of whatever stupor he was in. “are you ready?” he whispered, giving your hand a little squeeze. “as i’ll ever be.”

azriel brought your hand to his mouth and placed three gentle kisses across your knuckles, slowly, letting you feel the warmth and love behind each one. you felt tears well up in your eyes, which you quickly blinked away. “don’t make me cry my mascara off.” you mumbled, and az chuckled. he gripped your hand in his and placed his free hand on your lower back, urging you closer to him. you closed your eyes, felt the whip of wind and cold and calm swipe across your face before you were surrounded by flitting chatter and clinking of glasses and slow, soft music.

the gala. az had winnowed you both there, to that ballroom under the mountain, right at the foot of the thrones. you looked up to rhysand and feyre, giving a little curtsy and curt bow of your head. they nodded in acknowledgement before cassian clinked a fork to his champagne glass, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. the music slowed to a stop as you met the eyes of nearly three hundred people. you just knew helion had invited way more than he was meant to. azriel sensed your nerves and squeezed your hand subtly, giving you a glance out of the corner of his eye. “ladies and gentleman, high lord and high lady of the night court.”

rhysand and feyre rose from their thrones, both adorned in black fabrics and crowns. you felt your heart swell with adoration, fighting to keep a toothy smile from breaking out on your face. everyone in the room bowed down as you squeezed azriel’s hand back. some further than others. “shadowsinger of the night court.” cassian announced. azriel stepped forward and stood on rhysand’s left, gazing out at the crowd with a blank, intimidating expression. you felt a warmth spread through your lower stomach, a warmth you were quick to stifle. you couldn’t even fathom how embarrassing it would be if the scent of your arousal filled the room. surrounded by his shadows, he stood there, looking so tough and so.. beautiful. like an angel of death.

“court overseer, of the night court.” morrigan stepped up and stood on feyre’s right, resting her hands neatly in front of her. she looked smug, and you knew she was making eye contact with beron. she was beautiful, adorned in a scarlett red dress that did very little to cover any part of her body and multiple pieces of dainty gold jewelry. a type of beautiful you could only wish to be. “high lord of the night court’s second-in command.” amren took a graceful seat in front of morrigan positioned slightly to the side, her legs drawn close to her and tilted at a sideways angle, giving her a look of feline elegance. one slip and she would be exposed to the entire room. it occurred to you in that moment that every one of the females of the night court was dressed… very little. the thought made a smirk quirk up on your lips.

“maid of honor of the night court.” cassian announced finally. you stood a little taller as you ascended the steps, your hips moving sensually as found your spot in front of azriel on the second level stair, positioning your legs the same way amren had. you raised your chin high, the way morrigan had taught you. a year ago she had said to you, “when you feel like nothing, pretend you’re everything.” you took that advice to heart. you felt azriel’s shadows reach out to caress you, just barely stopping themselves before they got to the back of your neck.

“and finally, war general of the night court.” rhysand’s voice chimed, springing an air of nonchalant amusement and dominance through the room. all rose and began applause as you sat, basking in it like a cat in a ray of sunlight. the tension you had unknowingly wound up in your shoulders released as azriel’s shadows wrapped around you, caressing your waist and hips and the valley between your breasts.

the night progressed smoothly for the next two hours. you made idle chatter with visiting occupants and had a few glasses of wine on your rounds. feyre and rhysand stayed perched on their thrones until midnight, accepting praise and offerings and casual conversations. once the clock struck midnight, it was time for you to give your speech. rhysand had recruited you to do it this year, for what reason, you didn’t know.

you ascended the steps to their thrones and bowed your head, giving a kind smile. rhysand and feyre stepped to the side, standing beside their thrones so you could be directly in the middle of all the attention. amongst the socializing, nobody had noticed that you now stood before them, nervous and shaky. you smoothed your hands across the fabric of your dress, your shoulders tensing again. you met azriel’s eyes across the room. he raised an eyebrow at you, questioning. you flared your eyelids, he tilted his head, you shook yours, he gave a face, you frowned. you communicated like that until a smile broke out on your lips, forcing you to lick them and try to stifle it.

azriel raised his wine glass and clicked a fork against it, drawing all eyes to you. suddenly it felt like you decided to jump naked into the sidra at peek population hours of the day. “uhm..” you started, looking behind you to rhysand and feyre for guidance. they gave encouraging nods and a wink, enough for you to loosen your shoulders and do a little wiggle to get rid of the nerves. you cleared your throat quietly and brought your hands in front of you, standing poised and presentable, how a lady of the night court should stand.

“welcome to the night court.” you said simply. soft applause came from the crowd, and you smiled. it was going good so far. to be honest, you hadn’t prepared this speech at all. you were just gonna have to start pulling things out of your butt. “how’s everybody’s night going?” you asked. there was louder clapping and some whooping that you were certain came from helion. you shook your head, smiling a smile azriel’s heart nearly stopped beating for.

“i’m going to be honest, i didn’t prepare this speech.” laughter. you smiled wider. okay, this was good. they were liking you. “i won’t keep you for much longer though, i promise. i just wanted to invite all of you to feel as comfortable as possible— without breaking our possessions of course.” you smirked and carried on, saying basic formalities before launching into how amazing it was to be part of rhysand’s court, how you were honored to host the gala this year. “before i step down, i’d just like to say—“ you stopped as your eyes met green. there he was, in the right hand side of the middle row, sipping deeply from his wine glass.

your worst nightmare. he never attended the galas, never volunteered to host. you felt frozen as memories began flashing violently behind your eyes. when you had first started out working for rhysand, you were assigned to make peace with the spring court. you met tamlin, high lord of the spring court— and he quickly became your secret lover. this was of course, many many years ago, but the whisper of him never quite left your mind.

he had destroyed you and built you up in ways you couldn’t describe. he’d kiss your lips and simultaneously pull your hair, tell you how beautiful you were while telling you that no one would ever love you the way he did. would buy you glorious gifts while cutting you off from your family and friends, keeping you trapped in his estate all the time. would tell you lies and spin your mind so that you’d only ever feel safe in his violent arms. rhysand had rescued you some hundred years ago and promised to never send you back to that horrible place.

you realized that you were still in the spotlight and had been gaping for a good six seconds. you looked desperately for azriel’s eyes, your eyebrows furrowing up in worry. you found his gaze in a heartbeat. his eyebrows creased. ‘what’s wrong?’ he asked you, communicating in the way only you two could. you tore your gaze away from his and cleared your throat, smiling a shaky smile. you spoke in a wobbly voice and your knees buckled as you willed yourself not to look at tamlin or azriel. instead, you found the arched doorway in the back of the room to be particularly interesting.

“uh, everyone have a great night and please eat the food we’ve provided because we will not be able to finish it all.” you gave one more smile as applause erupted from the crowd and boisterous music picked up. the second the attention was off of you, you picked up your skirt and rushed into the crowd, forcing your way through to azriel. you were swept into a dance before you knew what was happening. a hand took yours and another met your waist. you blinked and suddenly you were following an upbeat choreography like second nature. you had learned it years ago, with azriel as your dance partner. but when you looked up, it wasn’t azriel you were dancing with.

it was tamlin. you felt bile rise up viciously in your throat. he smelled the same, looked the same. you didn’t miss the way he held you tighter than he needed to, his fingertips digging into your waist and back of your hand. “(y/n).” he said, but his voice wasn’t warm like when you first met him. it was cold and entirely devoid of emotion. “tamlin.” you swallowed thickly, trying to force down the junk pile of emotions that threatened to explode out of your mouth and eyes. “that was some speech you gave.” he said, guiding you around the room as you two danced, twirling and stepping and swaying in sync. you didn’t respond. your eyes left his to try and find azriel through the blur of dancing bodies around you.

“look at me when i speak to you.” his voice growled, and you looked to him without giving it too much thought. it was as if he was your owner and you a dog, programmed to follow his every order without hesitation. “good girl.. you haven’t lost your training yet.” he smirked, sinister and disgusting and so gut-churning you nearly wanted to scream for help. he made you feel so degraded with so few words, you fought and lost to the tears welling up in your eyes.

you didn’t respond. his expression fell into a blank slate and he stared at you, through you, as he spun you faster with the crescendo of the music. you willed yourself to steel your heart and paint your face with aloofness, trying to pretend like you weren’t affected by him, by his presence, by his cold fingers against your skin. your nostrils flared in the way they always did when you were trying not to cry. “are you having fun being a night court whore?” he asked. your eyes flicked to his immediately, wide with shock. “oh, excuse my poor manners. i just couldn’t help but notice your choice of.. clothing.” he said, flitting distasteful eyes towards your dress.

“the night court is my home.” you said, voice firm and threatening. “i am not a whore of it, and you will not speak to me that way in my. home.” your words shocked you, you had never stood up to him before. but as your lips continued moving, you felt an awful sort of dark hatred start in your toes and spread, filling your entire body until it felt like it was going to crawl out of your throat and slit tamlin’s wide open. your face felt hot and you were shaking, stumbling as the dance abruptly stopped.

your eyes flicked from the floor to his, and you swear you saw him flinch. “how dare you?” you asked, voice hardly above a whisper. it felt like the storm from outside was in your skull now, whipping around so violently you couldn’t hear or think. your eyes were wild with rage as they stared into tamlin’s. your fingers were digging into his skin now as you tried to keep the violence that rose inside of you at bay. “how. fucking. dare you?” you asked again, raising your voice. he stared, expression void of emotion. “after..” you could barely breathe, borderline hyperventilating as you began giggling, a manic fit of disbelief putting itself into play.

you swallowed hard, laughing now. your eyes were wild still, but with something different. something worse. “after all you’ve done to me. after the years i spent running from you, trying to forget.. you think,” you push your fingernail accusingly against his chest, hard. “you think you can come into MY home and speak to me like THAT?” you laugh, a hiccuping, uncoordinated laugh that was anything but humorous. “fuck you, tamlin.” you sneer, chest rising and falling hard as you breathe, unable to stop your lips. “fuck you, and you’re godsdamned fucking face, and your mean hands, and your need to control fucking everything.”

you pushed him back with one finger, stalking towards him as he backed up. you were pushing him toward the door without realizing it, people were parting like minos for a shark, but you didn’t notice. you could barely see, think, hear anything but the storm. you looked like a wildfire flame, the anger radiating off of you could heat the room. “this is MY. HOME.” you yelled, voice full and boisterous in the way his was everytime he had threatened to kill you. “and you are NOT welcome in it ever FUCKING again, so just GET OUT!”

you screamed at him, and then it stopped. the storm, the noise, the emotions, all of it. it all disappeared. you looked up at him with teary, confused eyes, your body trembling like an autumn leaf in the wind. “just get out.” you whispered, voice shaking as you pointed at the door his back was nearly against. he squared his jaw and shoulders in the way he always did when he knew he lost, and turned. “fuck you too, (y/n).” he tore the door open and slipped through it, slamming it so hard on the way out it rattled the entire ballroom.

silence. there was loud, horrible silence. your hair a mess, tears running down your cheeks, you turned towards the guests of the ball. they stared at you like you had just unleashed one of the beginning time beasts. your entire body broke out into a cold sweat, you couldn’t stop shaking. shaking, why were you shaking? you scanned less than half the room before azriel was in front of you, cupping your face in his hands. “(y/n).”

you broke. you threw yourself into his arms and crumpled, ugly, hot, fat tears flowing down your face. in his arms is where you realized how scared you were, how scared you had been. if it had been any different, if it had been in any other court.. tamlin would have killed you. very slowly did your ears begin to register the applause, the deafening applause that rattled off of every wall in the room. you detached your puffy, tear-streaked face from azriel’s chest and looked around, met the faces of every court member clapping and cheering for you.

you looked up at azriel confused. he held a hand firm on your lower back and grinned softly down at you. he put his hand softly on the back of your head and pushed it against him, holding you and your shock at bay. “never liked that prick anyway!” helion shouted from across the room, earning boisterous laughter from a group of males and females. cassian rushed towards you and swept you away from azriel, leading you back to the thrones. morrigan patted your dress down and messily wiped mascara stains off your face the best she could with her thumb and some saliva. you laughed, confused, but happy. your heart was thundering in your chest.

“ladies and gentleman,” cassian announced loudly, gesturing widely to you like you were a showcase painting. “maid of honor!”

the applause that erupted from the crowd almost moved you to tears again. you met azriel’s eyes and he grinned, sending an expression of admiration towards you that spoke a thousand and one words.

- extra ! -

two weeks later, it was the night of winter solstice. you, the entire inner circle, and elain were sitting around the fireplace, exchanging gifts and sipping wine and recalling stories from the year passed. with all the wine in your system, you didn’t notice when azriel slipped away from you. “okay, okay! my turn.” feyre said. “this is to you, (y/n).” she said. she motioned to the staircase, where azriel stood. next to him was a flat box about as large as him covered with a silk black curtain.

azriel cleared his throat, and you could tell he was nervous, though his facade hadn’t changed to the naked eye. “(y/n)..” he said. “i love you, and everyone else loves you. you are the strongest, most beautiful female i’ve ever seen. happy solstice..” he removed the cloth from the box and in front of you stood a painting of you at the gala, victorious, incredulous look on your face, mascara stains on your cheeks and all, being held up by cassian and mor as every court cheered for you.

your hands flew over your mouth as your eyes welled with tears, the tipsiness making you overly emotional. you stood and rushed to feyre, nearly knocking her backwards as you wrapped her in a hug. “it’s so beautiful! thank you so much..” you cried as azriel came up behind you and placed a hand on the small of your back, crouching down to sit next to the pile of you and feyre.

you turned and tossed yourself messily into his arms as everyone began making fun of you; with the exception of amren who was trying to find herself in the painting. “i love you azriel.” you sniffled. he lifted your chin and grinned down at you softly, pressing his lips against your cheek. he whispered against your skin, bringing your head to his chest. “i love you too, darling.”

#fanfiction #x reader #fluff #acotar #azriel #christmas #solstice #ewtamlin #inner circle #a court of starlight #azriel romance #azriel x reader #christmas fic #cutie pie #azriel x reader fluff

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lot-of-nothing · 3 months

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Can I Call You Rose? (Ch. 1?)

Chessy x Reader

As the new viticulturist (grape-growing expert) at Nick Parker's vineyard, you fall for a certain nanny. (Post-Parent Trap movie I think)

Warnings: SOFT SMUT (with a little plot and romance)

You wondered if your fingers were going to go numb, or perhaps your heart would just explode first?

You had finally worked up the courage to kiss the auburn-haired beauty mere hours ago and now Chessy’s lips were finally attached to her neck. You had met during your first week as Nick Parker’s head viticulturist. Her warmth was magnetic and you always tried to find reasons to tend to the grapes closest to the house in case you could start a conversation with the nanny. You spent many afternoons together, flirting while she brought you her homemade lemonade or while you walked her around the rows of vines handing her grapes to try. Chessy always seemed to wear a smile when you were near, filling you with butterflies in return. You had been dreaming of this moment since you first met the beautiful woman and now you were filled with pure unfiltered anxiety.

Chessy’s open mouth kisses to your throat and collarbone were unlike anything you had ever experienced. Were you supposed to crave her as much as you did? There was a fire ignited in the pit of your stomach that hungered for something that felt so forbidden.

As nervous as you were, you wanted more. You needed more. You wanted to feel Chessy’s hands setting every inch of your skin aflame… but the thrum of energy winding through every cell in your being had you wondering if you would have a panic attack or pass out before that could happen.

“Hon… Hon? Honey!”

You must have spaced out entirely as Chessy’s voice drew you back to reality. Next thing you knew, Chessy’s hands were now cupping your face, staring intently into your eyes.

“Hm?” You hummed, your eyes brimming with tears as you felt like you could finally breathe again. You felt incredibly embarrassed that you felt that you couldn’t handle the physical intimacy. It was hard when you were so in love with Chessy and lacked the experience you thought necessary to please her.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” Chessy’s voice was just above a whisper. She was terribly worried that she had pushed the bounds of your relationship too far too soon. Little did she know that it would be your own slip up that would be the culprit of a ‘too much too soon’ relationship.

“I-I-I…” You quickly stopped herself short, not wanting to make yourself cry.

“It’s okay… Wanna finish our movie, honey?”

You shook your head furiously, determined to push yourself through the anxiety and nerves.

“Honey…” Chessy seemed skeptical, her hands squeezing your cheeks. The extra bit of care Chessy showed was all you needed to lose your head, tears pooling in your eyes and spilling onto your cheeks.

You stared into your hands, trying to explain to Chessy why you were struggling to get through your anxieties. “I just… don’t- I just don’t know how to pleasure a woman…”

“Tell you what. Come’re…” Chessy cooed, drawing you in so you could sit between the auburn beauty’s legs. From there Chessy gently caressed your arms, speaking in a firm but gentle tone. “I am going to turn on a different show and you are gonna sit right here and enjoy it, okay?”

You sniffled and nodded, reclining back in Chessy’s arms as an attempt at relaxing. A few moments passed of Chessy tapping away on her phone. The audio sounded off before you even comprehended what was playing, “I hope you are nice and wet for me.”

You certainly weren't expecting Chessy to stream a guided masturbation from her phone onto the television.

Your cheeks flushed a deep red, “Wha-?”

Chessy’s hands fell to your sweatpants, pulling out the band a couple of inches as she spoke, “I want you to just relax. Just do what she tells you to, okay?”

Your hand was shaking as you pushed it into your sweatpants, never having experienced anything like a guided masturbation before. While daunting, it was incredibly hot.

The audio rang over the tv speakers once more, causing butterflies to swirl in your stomach, “Now, why don’t you see how wet you are for me? Slip your fingers in your panties for me.”

As you slipped your fingers in your underwear, you let out a whimper at first contact with your cunt. What else would you be in for with this nanny? What other tricks were hidden up her sleeves to drive you wild?

Even though all of your building anxiety, you had grown incredibly wet from Chessy’s touch. You rolled your head back onto Chessy’s shoulder, earning a kiss to your temple as you did. Chessy’s voice was gentle in your ear, “You are doing so well, honey.”

The video instructed you once more, telling you to focus on your clit. Considering the pacing of the video, Chessy must have found a video long enough to help you relax, but short enough that she could find more involvement in your pleasure sooner rather than later.

Doing as you were told, you circled your clit and felt yourself melting back into the auburn beauty’s arms. What you couldn’t see was Chessy’s smile as she felt the tension in your body fade. Her hands wound up your front, working your t-shirt up your torso to access your breasts.

The audio emanated from the tv was filled with the performer's moans, but you were becoming enraptured by the soft, encouraging hums from the woman behind you. Chessy’s hands drifted up and down your stomach, stopping at your breasts to give a gentle squeeze before shifting back down once more.

“Let me hear you, sweetie…”

You bit your bottom lip and turned your face into Chessy’s neck, unsure if you were ready to be heard.

Without a response, Chessy hummed disapprovingly, her hand slipping its way into your sweatpants and then underwear in search of your wetness. At the feeling of her fingers mingling with yours in your cunt, you withdrew your hand and dropped it to your side to allow her to take over. You couldn’t keep yourself from softly sighing at the feeling of her gentle fingertips working against your clit.

“God, you are so wet…” Chessy whined at the way your wetness coated her fingers.

You bucked your hips up into her hand, desperately wishing for this sensation to last forever. With her arms around you, fingers dancing around your clit, and her hot breath against your neck, your head was spinning. You couldn’t help but moan before blurting your thoughts to Chessy, “You- you’re so beautiful…”

“Mmm… thank you, honey.” Chessy cooed, her arm winding around your waist to cradle you close as her fingers continued working against you. Your entire being was set aflame by Chessy’s loving embrace and skilled fingers.

Your breathing rate was growing faster and faster, the coil in your stomach tightening as you grew closer to your orgasm.

Chessy’s teeth nipped at your earlobe, tenderly nibbling as she added extra pressure as she circled your clit. Her voice came as a soft whisper, forcing warmth to spread across your face. “I can feel you getting close. You are so beautiful when you fall apart like this for me.”

“Fuck, I love you~” You exhaled, not registering your words while your hands clung to her forearm.

Sadly, you were too lost in the throes of your eminent orgasm to notice her lack of a response. She only nuzzled you with her cheek and held you tight as your orgasm washed over you.

Your back arched and your hips thrashed, unable to contain yourself. Your eyes squeezed shut and you let out a lengthy moan, trying to enjoy every ounce of the orgasm Chessy guided you through.

Chessy sighed with a soft smile and withdrew her hand from your pants. She was trying to ignore her own anxiety building from her lack of response to your omission of love. While she felt she loved you as well, it all felt like too much too soon. In years past, she had dove head first into relationships and had only been burned in return. She had no intention of ruining your relationship over the omission of her own feelings.

“How do you feel?”

“Mmm… good.” With a deep breath, you roll over in her arms, pressing your cheek near the base of her sternum. You tucked your hands under her wide hips and enjoyed the feeling of your bodies pressed together. “How do you feel about me returning the favor?”

Chessy pushed her anxieties deep down, not wanting to ruin a perfect moment. She had been falling for you since you started at the Parker estate. “Maybe in the morning…”

“Are you sure? I would love to-”

There was that word again. It made Chessy’s stomach drop.

“No. It’s really okay. We could just… finish our movie.”

She seemed curt in her reply. It lacked the typical warmth you always received from her. It made you terribly self conscious until her hands wandered to the skin of your back, drawing loopy circles with one hand while her other turned the tv back to your movie.

“Mmm… you better be careful or I’ll fall asleep.” You murmured, testing the waters of how likely it would be for you to spend the night with the nanny.

“Whatever shall I do. I would hate for someone so cute to be in my bed when I woke up.” Chessy was being incredibly sarcastic, her hands continuing to scratch your back in lazy loops.

You allowed your own hands to wander her hips and thighs as a different form of self-soothing. You obsessed over the soft dips of cellulite and the slopes created by the widening of her hips. Her baggy clothing hid the curves you wanted to memorize through all of your senses.

Chessy’s eyes drifted shut as she pushed herself to enjoy your loving touch. It was hard for her to accept such unadulterated affection, but she desperately wanted to try. It felt so good for her to be wanted and desired, but the vulnerability required for a deep and meaningful relationship lurked in the back of her mind.

#chessy #the parent trap #chessy the parent trap #lisa ann #lisa ann walter #LAW #the plot was an after thought yet i think this could be something angsty and smutty #smut was the number one priority okay???#idk we will see how it goes #maybe i will do a part 2 we will see if anyone likes this #be nice this is the first fic i am posting here okay?#chessy x reader #lisa ann walter x reader #fanfic

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forgottenfourr · 10 months

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i saw you in a dream - university smau

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chapter five - dreams✏️

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warning: mentions of insanity, insomnia, and partial (very very small mention) of derealization!!

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a/n: from now on soul from p1h and mingyu from svt will also be smaller characters in the story so don’t be confused when they show up randomly in the next chapter!! they are just going to be a fun comedic relief characters :) i will put a short character reintroduction before the next update

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you have struggled with sleeping your entire life. never being able to fall asleep and then when you eventually pass out from pure exhaustion, the sleep was restless. you lost count of the doctors your parents took you to as a kid. each one coming to the same conclusion. there was nothing wrong with you perse. at least, nothing medically wrong. all of them told your parents that you'll grow out of it one day. that there was nothing they could do on their part besides run more tests that would evidently draw no conclusion and would just be a waste of time for both you and the doctors.

so you had to learn to live with it. you held onto hope that one day you would just magically grow out of it. but as the years drew on and you continued to sleep a most 10-15 hours a week, you just grew used to it. it was irritating most of the time. the constant drowsiness and dark circles under your eyes that never seem to go away.

due to your lack of sleep, you’ve never really had dreams before. at least, none that you could remember.

but recently that has changed. it seems now that every time you are able to sleep, even if it is just for a few minutes, you are drifted away into another dream.

but something is different about these dreams. when you wake up, you remember everything that happened in them. most importantly, you remember the boy that’s there in every dream. the boy you can’t seem to recognize. the boy you sworn you’ve never seen before. and you would surly remember him. he’s beautiful. his hair a white blonde and his brown eyes that look as if the entire universe is in them. and for someone you don’t know, you have grown quite fond of him. you don’t understand how he’s always there, his bright and warming smile welcoming you back to wherever this world is with him. but you aren’t complaining about it.

the dreams are long. or well they feel long at least. in the real world you could only be sleeping for 30 minutes but in the dream world you have already been there for days. you like the dream world. you find yourself anxiously waiting for the next time you fall asleep so you can go back there. so you can see mystery boy again.

neither of you ever bothered to ask for each others name. in fact, you guys don’t talk much. it’s more of a mutual understanding that you both are there together and are happy in each others presence. neither feeling the need to break the peaceful silence you have created. you cherish all of the times you guys have spent together. from the time you guys went cliff jumping to when he taught you how to play the guitar. you’re scared that you won’t be able to go back one day. that for some reason the next time you fall asleep there will just be black. even if you don’t understand why these dreams are happening or who he is, you yearn for them. even if it’s all fake. if it is just something your subconscious mind came up with.

of course, you haven’t told your friends about your dreams. sure, jisung might understand. or at least try to. but the others will just think you’re going crazy. which honestly, might be true.

you too have thought about the possibility of these dreams being some sort of sign of insanity or something else of the sort. it would make sense. you’ve been spreading yourself too thin for the past few months. never knowing when to say no and always wanting others around you to feel appreciated and happy. minho is constantly berating you for being a people pleaser, but you don’t know how to stop. and lately, people have taken notice of your kindness and the way you would drop everything instantly to help someone. between work, university, and your social life, you feel your grasp of yourself slowly slipping away from you.

the only thing that keeps you from losing your grip completely are the dreams. they make you feel happy and safe like before. maybe you were relying too much on the dreams but what does it matter? if you're going to have them you might as well enjoy them. enjoy him.

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you got to the studio before chan this time. still reminiscing on the fantasy you were living just moments before.

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justviwriting · 9 days

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'Memories of the Attic'

Fandom: Bridgerton Characters: Kate Sharma, Violet Bridgerton, Anthony Bridgerton, Mrs. Wilson Pairing: Kate/Anthony, past Edmund/Violet Rating: T Words: 4.2k Summary: While searching through the attic at Bridgerton House, Kate discovers a beautiful, long lost painting. A/N: A short story about how that painting of Violet and Edmund from the s3 promo might’ve ended up in the drawing room :)

[you can also read it on AO3]

“Perhaps a few more flowers would be a nice addition,” said Kate with light hesitation in her voice, although she tried to hide it.

She was standing inside the drawing room together with Violet and Mrs Wilson, as they were discussing possible changes to be made to that room – though mostly, it was Violet and Mrs Wilson wondering whether Kate had any interest in making changes to her new home.

Kate felt a bit odd about it. She quite enjoyed her new role as viscountess – taking over such important responsibilities and duties filled her with purpose and pride. And also joy, even if it could be draining at times. But never too draining, and she always had Anthony by her side when she needed a moment of quiet and rest. She had found confidence and comfort within her new role, but when it came to making changes to the Bridgertons’ homes – her homes – she still hesitated a bit.

Violet had already encouraged her back at Aubrey Hall to create a home she would wish to live in. And as they had just arrived in town a week ago, Violet had done the same here, repeatedly reminding Kate that she was viscountess now.

Kate felt grateful for the encouragement and support, and she would very much like to turn this place into her home. Yet she still felt a bit odd at times. She did not wish to change things that Violet or the children had grown too fond of – did not wish to intrude in any way.

Not that anyone had ever made her feel like an intruder. The entire family had welcomed her with open arms and Kate had grown to love them all dearly. But Anthony and her had not even been married for a year yet – everything was still rather new, even when she sometimes felt as if Anthony and her had known each other for an eternity. She might love this family, but she did not yet know them all as well as she wished to.

From what she had learned about Violet, Kate was certain that she was not the kind of women who was looking forward to retiring just yet. Kate did not wish to replace her, neither could she. And Violet was also kind and dutiful – Kate feared that she would not let her know should any of her decisions bother her; that she believed she had to step back, allowing Kate to do as she pleased. But Kate wished to have her by her side, making choices together. And therefore, she was careful, always considering Violet’s approval.

It might be a bit silly, though Kate did not mind it. She had spent so many years taking care of everyone and everything – it was almost relaxing to have someone by her side that she could look to for guidance.

Violet gave her an encouraging smile as she said, “Flowers are always a wonderful idea. I don’t believe that there could ever be enough flowers, and they would certainly make this room appear more homely.”

Kate returned the smile. Flowers were nothing special and she did not have any particular flowers in mind yet, but it was a start.

She took a look around the room then. It was already beautifully decorated and she could not imagine to change anything about it. Although, it still felt like something was missing.

It had been the same back at Aubrey Hall. Everything looked gorgeous and sumptuous, but occasionally it lacked exactly that homely feeling Violet had just mentioned. Kate had not always noticed it, as the family itself made that place feel lively and welcoming. But when she had been on her own, it sometimes felt as if this could have been anyone’s home – it lacked in personality.

Kate still remembered her old home back in India – much smaller, of course, but filled with personal items and gifts and keepsakes. The rooms in her old home might have not always matched that well in colour, but they had looked like someone was actually living within those walls. This room did not, despite its beauty.

It might not be too surprising. Kate had travelled far more in the past year alone than she had in the previous ten or even twenty of her life. If one did not stay at a place for too long, there might not be any reason for attachment of any kind. But Kate still wished for this place to feel more like a proper home.

“Perhaps … we might add some more personal items,” she said then, carefully, not wishing to insult anyone with her words.

Violet raised her brows. “What do you mean?”

“Well …” Kate replied, biting her lip. “This room is beautifully decorated, but … it could belong to anyone. At least at first glance, I could not find anything that told me who was living at this place. Some personal belongings – maybe some Christmas gifts or more recent paintings of the family could present a nice addition.”

Kate was looking back and forth between Violet and Mrs Wilson as they both stared at her curiously, and she was almost afraid that she had said something wrong. But then, a smile appeared on Violet’s lips and she replied saying, “That is a lovely idea. Though I cannot think of anything to add right now. But I believe there might be some nice items stored away in the attic,” she added, turning to Mrs Wilson with a questioning look.

“I’m certain there are, yes,” Mrs Wilson replied.

Violet turned back to Kate with a smile and said, “Perhaps Mrs Wilson might show you to the attic then and you can see if you find something you might like to add.”

Kate gave her a smile and nodded.

She left the room with Mrs Wilson then as they went upstairs towards the attic level, entering a small, dusty room which was barely lit by the sunlight that was trying to creep through the closed curtains.

The room might be small but it had been filled with as much furniture, vases and paintings as it could handle – only leaving a small area of the floor free for them to walk through the miscellaneous collection.

“That’s quite a lot,” Kate muttered, unsure where to start. “Is there a way to get some more light in here?” she asked Mrs Wilson.

“I could open the curtains,” Mrs Wilson replied, stumbling through furniture to reach the small windows. As she opened the curtains, the bright sun immediately illuminated the room, but it barely helped as it only made the amount of dust floating through the air more visible.

Kate sighed, looking around the room. There was a small trunk close to her, catching her attention. Curious what might be in there, she went toward it, knelt down on the dusty floor and opened it.

It was filled with a variety of small items – which, to her surprise, appeared to be children’s toys.

Kate took out a small wooden figure of a soldier on a horse, looking at it closely – the paint was mostly worn off and the poor guy looked like he had been through some stuff.

“How old are these?” Kate asked then, looking back up.

“I do not know, but quite old, I believe,” Mrs Wilson told her. “Some of them had been in this family for decades, given to the next generation of Bridgerton children.”

At her last words, Mrs Wilson gave Kate a meaningful smile and Kate looked back down, knowing very well what she was trying to say with that smile. Everyone was impatiently waiting for Kate to announce that she was expecting. Yet Kate tried to push that thought out of her mind. She would love nothing more than to have a child with Anthony one day, and also for that child to play with this tiny soldier figure. But there was no rush.

She was putting the figure back into the box when suddenly, a small recorder caught her eye. As she picked it up, Mrs Wilson said, “That belonged to Lord Bridgerton.”

Kate stared up at her, surprised. “Truly?”

She could not imagine Anthony playing the recorder, or any kind of musical instrument for that matter. She looked back at the recorder in her hand and at the bottom, she noticed two letters carved into it: A.B.

“Yes,” said Mrs Wilson, clear amusement in her voice. “If I remember correctly, his father had been forced to hide it away here, as his then six-year-old son would not stop running around the house, playing on his little recorder day and night.”

“Are you serious?” Kate stared up at her, a wide smile on her face – both, bewildered and insanely amused at the thought.

Mrs Wilson chuckled. “I was only a housemaid back then, but I still remember how he had come down to the kitchen to give a performance on his recorder for the entire staff.” A laugh escaped Kate’s lips as she stared at Mrs Wilson in amazement. “And impressively, he had managed to not hit a single right note.”

Kate just laughed at that, shaking her head at the thought. Her eyes went back to the recorder in her hand. First, she considered showing it to Anthony later, retelling Mrs Wilson’s tale to him. But then she changed her mind. His birthday was just around the corner, so perhaps she could give it to him as a present then.

With a smirk, she put the recorder aside before digging through the rest of the trunk. However, it was merely filled with old toys – nothing that could be used to decorate the drawing room with.

Kate stood back up again, brushing the dust off of her skirts before she took a look around the room. Leaning against the wall, she noticed a painting – covered with a blanket to protect it from collecting dust. As a painting might be a better addition to the room than a couple children’s toys, Kate went towards it and pulled down the blanket to reveal the picture underneath.

For a moment, Kate just stared at it, her mouth opened in awe – shocked at the beautiful painting she had just accidentally uncovered.

It was Violet’s face that had immediately caught her attention – looking many years younger, a sweet smile on her lips. Next to her was her husband, as kind as he appeared on all the other paintings Kate had seen of him in the past. It was beautiful, with a colourful landscape in the background, making it look rather lively and free. A small smile appeared on Kate’s face. They were sitting quite close to one another, appearing comfortable and peaceful – and very much in love.

“I have not seen this in ages,” Kate heard Mrs Wilson whisper.

“It’s beautiful,” said Kate, still in awe.

“It truly is.”

Kate turned towards her then, asking, “Then why is it hidden away in here?”

“I believe it was Lord Bridgerton who had ordered for the painting to be stored away,” Mrs Wilson replied, her eyes still on the painting. “Though I do not know the reason.”

Kate looked back at the painting. It was exactly the kind of painting that was missing inside the drawing room. But she could also quite well imagine the reason why Anthony had order for it to be put away. It might have simply been too painful for him. And perhaps, it still was.

She had left the painting in the attic then, but it would not leave her mind throughout the rest of the day.

As Kate was later lying in bed next to Anthony, he was telling her all about that speech he would give in parliament soon. Kate had been rather intrigued by it and had also helped him a lot with it those past days – but tonight, she had trouble following his words as her mind was still with the gorgeous painting, hidden away inside the attic.

“I was talking to your mother earlier,” Kate interrupted him then and he raised his brows at the sudden change of topic, looking at her curiously. “We were discussing potential changes to be made to the drawing room.”

Then, she told him how she had gone to the attic with Mrs Wilson and about the painting she had discovered there. His eyes widened at that and Kate could tell that he knew exactly what painting she was talking about.

“It is absolutely beautiful,” she continued then, “and I thought about adding it to the drawing room. But Mrs Wilson has told me that it had apparently been your decision to store it away in the attic.”

“It was, yes,” Anthony replied, looking away.

“Why?” Kate asked, her voice soft as she was examining him curiously. Judging by the harshness on his face, she knew that her intuition had been right and the painting must have caused him pain in the past.

Anthony turned to face her again and his expression softened as he stared at her for a moment in silence. Then, he sighed, pulling her body closer to his.

“One of the most difficult things after my father’s death had been the many paintings of him at Aubrey Hall – a constant reminder of his absence,” he said, gently brushing through her hair. Kate nodded quietly at that, knowing exactly what he meant. There had not been many paintings of her own father, but still more than enough memories haunting her home back then.

“Sometimes,” Anthony continued, “I almost wished I could’ve simply burned them all. It had been unbearable to look at them. But of course, I’ve never touched them – I did not wish to erase him. But it had not just been me who had suffered from it.” He sighed again as Kate listened carefully, wondering where he was going with this. “It remained the same when we travelled to town for the first time after his death – perhaps it was even worse. There were new paintings, hung up in his remembrance. And no matter how much it might’ve pained me, I had known that I could’ve not said anything against it – no one would have understood. So I spent the evening working inside the study, with his new painting staring down on me. Yet I kept working … because I did not dare to sleep. I did not know whether I could bear to spend the night inside the master’s bedroom.” Another sigh left his lips. “I chose to return to my bachelor’s place instead. But on my way outside, I suddenly froze – as I heard a heart-wrenching cry coming from the drawing room. I ran there, terrified something horrible had happened.”

Anthony was staring into the distance now as tears began to well up in his eyes. Gently, Kate put her hand on his chest, softly caressing his skin with her fingers as she hoped it might bring him some comfort.

He took a deep breath before he said, “It was my mother – sitting on the floor, leaning against the table as she cried in agony, staring up at the painting above the fireplace – that painting. She cried and cried, her body trembling, and I … I just stood there – horrified and unable to move.”

He took another deep breath as his eyes found hers again – they were filled with tears and pain, and Kate’s heart grew heavy at the sight. “I didn’t do anything,” he said then, his voice breaking. “I could not bring myself to comfort her … I just could not bear it. I was a coward.”

As the tears began to fall, Kate raised her hand to softly brush them aside. “You are not a coward, Anthony,” she said in a soft whisper, although she could hear her own voice shaking. “There was too much pain for both of you to bear. It was no one’s fault.”

He tried to force himself to a smile then. “I ran away,” he continued plainly. “I went to the servants’ quarters to find her maid, telling her to look after my mother and then … then I just left.” He sighed, but the tears had dried. “I could not sleep, however. Early the next morning, I returned. I ordered for the painting to be removed. I know that my mother must have noticed, but she never said a word about it.”

Kate gave him a small smile. “Perhaps she has also believed for it to have been the right decision.”

“Perhaps,” Anthony replied, returning a more genuine smile. “I’ve not thought about the painting since then. But … if you wish to hang it back in its original place, I believe that to be a nice idea.”

“Not if it causes any pain,” Kate said immediately, carefully brushing along his cheek with her fingertips. “If you’re not ready-“

“No,” he interrupted her, shaking his head. “The painting might have caused pain in the past, but I have learned that ignoring the pain does not help erase it. Pain might even be necessary at times – necessary to move forward. And mother might wish to see it again as well, and everyone else deserves to see it too. Because it truly is beautiful.”

Kate gave him a smile as she nodded. She pushed herself up then, kissing him gently as he wrapped his arms around her. The painting was wonderful and she was glad that they could add it to the drawing room. Perhaps there was a painful memory attached to it, but even painful memories could be beautiful, if the wound had been given enough time to heal.

Violet had just returned inside after a short walk when she heard Anthony and Kate’s voices coming from the drawing room.

A small smile appeared on her lips. They had seemingly been enjoying their time in town so far. Violet had wondered whether the draining routine of town might weight down on their marriage – whether Anthony might return to hold habits of working through the night, or whether Kate might grow tired of his absence. Of course, they had only been in town for a week. But those few days had been quite pleasing to witness.

She still remembered how Edmund had often left early in the morning, gone for the entire day; how he had spent the evenings and nights inside his study. And Violet had chosen to join him – to support him in his work, and to comfort him when he needed it; and he, too, had done the same for her.

And it seemed like Anthony and Kate had chosen a similar path – a path of support and care. And it made her feel grateful. She might not be able to predict where their marriage was headed, but this surely was a good start for them to hopefully build a happy, lasting relationship.

Kate was also doing quite well within her role as viscountess. While Violet had always hoped for Anthony to marry someone he loved, she had also very much hoped for a wife that would be able to fulfil all her duties – neither someone too scared to make decisions of her own, nor someone taking over this place in pure selfishness.

Thankfully, Kate seemed to be rather well-balanced. She was strong-minded and took on her responsibilities with confidence and expertise. But she also clearly wanted to be a part of this family. Although Kate appeared rather confident, Violet had noticed the hidden nervousness whenever she bit her lip, looking away for a short second, uncertainty on her face. But Violet did not consider this a fault, but rather a virtue. Humbleness and self-reflectiveness were great qualities for any person, but especially for a viscountess.

She entered the drawing room then. They were both standing in front of the fireplace as she approached them with a smile. But before she could say anything, she suddenly halted in her steps – staring at the painting above the fireplace as shock made her heart stop for a second.

It seemed as if someone had pulled her from reality and thrown her into a different time – a long lost time, way too many years ago. Vertigo clouded her mind as a feeling of melancholia grabbed her heart.

“Where did this come from?” she heard herself ask.

Violet’s eyes were still fixated on the painting, but she noticed Anthony and Kate turning around to face her. As her feet slowly took her forward, she heard Kate say, “I found it in the attic yesterday and I believed it might be a beautiful addition to the room.”

Violet halted in front of the empty fireplace, still staring up at the painting, unable to look away.

“But if you wish for it to be removed again, I can do so immediately.”

Now, Violet’s eyes left the painting as she stared at Kate instead, noticing the unexpected dread in her voice. At that moment, Violet realised that she probably looked horrified. And she did feel shocked and confused – but there was also a weird warmth filling her heart. She did not wish for Kate to believe that she had made a terrible mistake.

Therefore, Violet gave her a smile and softly brushed across Kate’s arm for a second as she said, “Oh no, please don’t. I was simply surprised. I have not seen this in so long…”

Her eyes went back to the painting again as Kate said, “It is very beautiful.”

“Yes, it is,” Violet breathed. “I almost forgot about it.”

“That might’ve been my fault,” said Anthony suddenly and Violet turned towards him, surprised at his words. There was an almost apologetic expression on his face as he added, “I was the one who ordered for it to be stored away. I saw you one night and…“

He trailed off then, looking down on his feet. “I know,” Violet told him softly. “I know, Anthony.”

Anthony looked back up, staring at her surprised, but Violet simply gave him a small smile. Her maid had told her everything back then – how Anthony had seen her break down in the drawing room as a result of the painting, and how he had asked her maid to guide her to her bedroom before removing the painting the next morning.

“It is fine,” she told him gently. “It might have been for the better. I would have never had the courage to do it myself. But now, I am happy that it’s back in its place.”

It was the truth. When her maid had first told her how the painting had been removed upon Anthony’s orders, rage had filled her heart – fearing Anthony had been trying to erase Edmund’s memory. But then she had learned about his reasons and embarrassment had taken over instead. Years later, she had looked back at that time with regret and guilt. But now, she felt peace.

Anthony gave her a smile as Violet’s eyes returned to the painting. Her mind still felt rather hazy and she struggled to think of any more words to say. A moment of silence followed, until Anthony cleared his throat. “Well, perhaps we should leave you alone for a moment.”

Violet just nodded at that, her eyes glued to the old painting as Anthony and Kate quietly left the drawing room, leaving her alone with memories rushing back into her mind.

The day of the painting felt like an eternity ago. Violet almost felt ashamed that she could not remember the exact year anymore. Had it been twenty years already? Possibly.

But while she could not remember the year, she could still picture that day quite clearly – remembering how she was sitting next to Edmund as a soft breeze blew through her hair. She could still smell the damp grass and could feel Edmund’s breath near her ear as he had leaned closer, whispering something hilarious to her, purposely trying to make her laugh as the painter reminded them to remain as still as possible.

They had laughed a lot that day – every reminder to keep still had only resulted in another wave of hysterical laughter from both of them. And it was still visible on their lips and within their eyes – the happiness of a different time filling the empty room of the present.

Her gaze wandered down to his hand next to her. She remembered the painter telling Edmund that – while closeness might make for a good picture – he should perhaps reconsider to not let his hand rest on her thigh. Of course, Edmund had obliged. But his other hand had then secretly moved behind her back, gently stroking along it.

Violet closed her eyes as she imagined his soft fingers brushing along her back. A shiver rushed through her and she opened them again, staring back at the painting.

It was only a memory. The day had passed and would never return. And perhaps that thought still pained her. But after so many years, it was not merely pain she felt inside her heart – there was also fondness and nostalgia and love.

Violet realised that a tear was running down her face. But it did not matter, because there was also a wide smile on it. She felt glad that the painting was back. Because all her children, and grandchildren, deserved to see it. Because all the world deserved to see the love they had once shared.

#fanfiction #bridgerton #kate sharma #violet bridgerton #anthony bridgerton

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moralesispunk · 2 years

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Kinktober Day Nine - Stripping // Agent Whiskey

Kinktober Masterlist / @the-purity-pen

Warnings: female reader, alcohol, daddy kink (this is Whiskey after all), stripping, mention of wearing fancy underwear but no description of body, unprotected sex, ass slapping (again, this is Whiskey)

Word Count: 2.4

A/n: I just wanna say I struggled with this one it is definitely not my best work but there was only one man this prompt could be

It had been three weeks since you had last seen Jack; three long weeks where you only got to hear from his own voice that he was alive and well via two short phone calls from burner phones.

It was the longest time you had spent apart since moving in together and Jack had known before leaving that it would be hard for you, especially since you never really liked nights you spent alone in the apartment as it was nevermind three weeks worth of them. You think that is why he had spent so much time and effort to do something he knew would put a smile on your face while he was gone.

From the first morning you woke up alone in the king sized bed you had found notes in his recognisable messy handwriting around the apartment; little yellow post-it stickers that had been hidden around the apartment for you to stumble across. There had been notes stuck to the top of containers in the fridge filled with dinners he had made before leaving; yellow squares tucked in the edge of mirrors to remind you how beautiful you were; one that was still firmly in its place on the back of the front door telling you to have a wonderful day.

You had found dozens in the past three weeks though they had slowly tapered off until you had found none in the past few days. It didn’t upset you too much since he was coming home today and having him in your arms was so much better than any handwritten note could be; that still didn’t mean you hadn’t been any less excited when you stumbled across one you hadn’t seen before.

It was tucked into a box in the wardrobe you didn’t recognise, the box being pulled onto your lap as you read the six letters printed in his messy scribbles:

A present for me and you

When you opened the box you immediately rolled your eyes at the sticker you recognised, one from a lingerie shop you know Jack liked you buying from. Your finger tucked under the sticker and peeled it from the pink tissue paper, unwrapping it until the black lace set that had been gently placed in the middle was visible. There was a deep plunging bra with a matching thong and garters. You shook your head as you lifted them from the box, turning the thin material over in your hand as you wondered when Jack had bought this since he had been stuck to your side ever since hearing about his work trip that would take him away for three weeks. He was an agent after all and it wouldn’t take much effort to sneak this box into your wardrobe while you were still here.

The rest of the day was spent with you quickly finishing up cleaning the apartment before you took your time getting ready for him coming home. It wasn’t that Jack preferred you dress up for him, he was just as desperate for you whether you were dressed up for one of the Statesmen Galas or coming home from the gym, but you enjoyed taking the time today knowing you would finally get to touch him after so long apart.

After a shower and in the middle of moisturizing your body your phone chimed with a text from Jack, a few quick words to tell you he would be home in an hour and couldn’t wait to have you back in his arms. Butterflies swarmed your stomach for the rest of the hour as you finished getting ready, slipping into the underwear and finding stockings to match before tying a robe over it, and exactly sixty minutes later you were sitting on the sofa with a glass of wine when the front door opened.

All plans of trying to be sexy, for him to find you leaning against the doorway and drawing him closer to you with a beckoning finger as the music you had carefully picked played in the background, was thrown out the window when his voice echoed through the open plan apartment.

“Darlin’?”

You sprung to your feet, rushing around the corner to find Jack dropping his bag to the floor and placing his hat on the hat rack by the door as he opened his arms wide. You ran into him, his hands cupping the back of your thighs and lifting your legs to wrap around his waist as your mouth crashed to his with an excited squeal.

He laughed against your mouth, his strong arms holding you tight to him as he walked you both to the living room and brought you down onto his lap as he sat down.

“Missed you so much, baby,” he mumbled into your mouth, his clean-shaven jaw under your hands as you held him close and his mustache tickling your upper lip. “Don’t ever want to leave you for that long again.”

“Me either,” you sighed, dropping your face to his neck as his hand ran up and down your back before holding you close with a steady hand on the back of your neck.

You stayed like that for a moment before Jack’s hand slid around to the front of your neck, taking your chin in his hold as he pulled you back to look into his eyes.

“And what’s all this then?” He raised a playful eyebrow up at you, his chin nodding towards where your robe began to come loose and give him a peek of the lace.

“Oh.” Your whole body warmed from a shyness that creeped up the back of your neck, Jack’s thumb rubbing across your jaw as he smiled at you.

“Were you going to put a show on for me?” You nodded at his words, twirling the bottom of his t-shirt in your hands. “I think I want to see the show you had planned for me, sugar.” You twist your lips, forcing yourself to stand on slightly shaking legs as Jack settles back against the sofa with his legs spread wide and one hand resting on his thigh as the other arm stretched to the back of the sofa. “Go on, baby. You look so pretty like this it would be a shame to skip right past the show.”

His words fill you with more confidence and he nods at you once, your feet carrying you two steps back as you take the tie of the robe in your hands. The thin fabric slowly slipped from around your waist and Jack's eyes dropped from your gaze to the V of skin that was freed bit by bit. His hips lifted from the leather sofa and while his whole body appeared relaxed, with his arm leaning on the back of the couch and his torso buried against the thick cushions, you could tell from his hand gripped in a tight fist on his lap that he was struggling not to take control.

The fabric hits the ground with a soft thud as you slip the robe off your shoulders slowly, Jack’s eyes widening before he clears his dry throat.

You know exactly what he is looking at; it’s the same sight you had stared at in the mirror only ten minute ago that filled you with the initial confidence to wait for him like this. The bra cups your tits perfectly and the lace sits comfortably against your hips, framing every dip and curve, while the stockings run up to the middle of your thighs.

“What do you think, Daddy?” Your head tilts with a shy smile and his face immediately breaks out into a grin.

“Oh Daddy loves it, baby.”

His deep southern drawl has your thighs clenching together and you have to give yourself a shake to stay in control, taking a step forward and running your hands up your body as you cup your breasts and push them up ever so slightly. Jack’s smile slowly fades and his jaw tenses, your hips swaying to the music.

“Did you buy these for any reason?” Your hands slide back down your hips and your fingers twirl the lace that rests against your hip to pull the material tighter across the front of your pussy in a way that has Jack’s throat bobbing. “Maybe because they leave very little to the imagination?”

The music continues to fill the room as you spin slowly in front of Jack, the sides of your thighs brushing his knees and your eyes staying focused on his as you look over your shoulder and begin to bend over.

Jack’s hands flex before clenching back into fists on his lap, trying his hardest not to reach out and run his hands up the back of your soft thighs that he has thought about every single day for weeks. When you turn completely around you take a deep breath, knowing that this is exactly what Jack wants to see and there is no need to be nervous as your fingers unclasp the stockings on both sides before you bend over slowly.

Jack’s choked gasp has you biting back a smile, the crotchless panties now perfectly in his line of sight as you slowly roll the nylon down your legs before slipping them off each leg and standing back straight. He had completely forgotten that part of the panties he had bought for you himself and could barely catch a breath as you spun back around and smiled a temptive smile down at him before taking your bottom lip between your teeth.

“You are… perfect, darlin’,” he sighs and you reach for his hands, sliding your fingers into his fists and releasing the tension.

His back immediately straightens as he sits up from the couch to look up at you, one touch from you pulling him closer to your warmth as you place his palms against your hips.

“You can touch me,” you whisper, nodding once before his hands begin to roam around your body.

He squeezes every inch of soft skin he can; running his hands up and down your thighs, pinching your nipples over your bra; reaching back and gripping your ass hard and pulling him closer to him as he pressed his lips across your tummy. It wasn’t enough, he needed more, and he told you that with his mouth pressed against your skin.

You reach down and take his chin in your hand, tilting his head up to take in his flushed cheeks and blown black eyes, and you keep him there as you reach back to unclasp your bra. His eyes flick between your breasts as you release them from the bra, sliding the material down your arms and throwing it to the side before pushing him back against the sofa and straddling his lap.

His hands continue to roam your body while you kiss down his neck and chest, your hands working to unbuckle his hip-flask belt as you slide off the sofa and pull his jeans and boxers down. His cock springs free, painfully hard and leaking against his white t-shirt that you only had to tug on once before Jack understood and ripped it up and over his head.

You stood before him again, looking over every inch of his body that you had missed lying beside you in bed every night from his strong chest and arms to his soft tummy and his impressive length that his hand had mindlessly wrapped around as he began to stroke it, his tongue coming out to wet his bottom lip as you smacked his hand away and sat on his lap once more.

His hands gripped your hips tight as you rocked your wet folds over his cock, a deep groan leaving his throat as you lifted your hips and guided his cock slowly inside. It had only been three weeks since he had last been inside you but there was a sting of pain as he stretched you wider with every inch you took.

“I have missed you, baby. Missed this pretty body in my hands.”

You moan at his words, lifting your hips until only the head of his cock is still inside before rocking back down as you take every inch and he stretches you around him. Your knees dig into the leather as you lift your hips up and down, moaning loudly every time he fills you completely.

“Faster, baby,” Jack pants and you listen, your hands sliding down from his shoulders and onto his chest as you ride his cock faster. “Just like that. Thought about you doing this every day I was gone with my hand wrapped around my cock. It could never feel as good as your pretty pussy, though.”

“Fuck.” You throw your head back, letting Jack’s hands guide every roll of your hips down onto him.

“Thought about you coming around me, squeezing me tight.” He slides one hand around from your hip, slipping it between your bodies and rubbing his thumb against your clit. “Need you to do that for me now, baby. Daddy’s close but needs you to come first.”

His words along with the perfect pressure he places against your clit tips you over the edge, your whole body shuddering as the waves of pleasure rock through you again and again, his touch not leaving yours as you try to squirm away and instead he pulls you closer.

“Oh baby, that’s it. That’s my girl,” he pants. “Keep going, just feel how good it is.”

“S-so good,” you whine, digging your nails into his chest.

His head is thrown back as he stares up at you with half-closed eyes and you ride him hard through your orgasm; his hand moving between gripping your ass and slapping his palm against it.

“Gonna let me fill you now?”

You whine out a beg, the feeling of you still contracting around him pulling you over the edge with you as he growls your name and fills you. You can feel his cock pulse inside you, his mouth seeking yours and his hands sliding up your back to hold you closer as he fills you until it begins to spill out down your thighs and his head collapses to your chest.

Raking your nails through his hair you smile at his contented hum, his lips pressing over your heart as your heart rate starts to slow down.

“How was the show?” You tease.

#tppkinktober2022 #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x y/n #agent whiskey x female reader #agent whiskey

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rin-eko · 2 years

Text

Chapter Eighteen - Long may you live, crown prince

Chapter Warnings/Tags - death, mentions of war

a/n: Thank you for your patience. Next week’s chapter will be longer.

masterpost

Six years ago

“Brother Takeomi!” Haruchiyo called out, jogging up to the older man who was grinning wide, a pipe between his teeth as his arms stretched wide.

He gripped Haruchiyo’s shoulders. “Who is this ugly bastard who has kidnapped my brother and taken his place? What kind of hairstyle is this?” he flicked Haruchiyo’s hair, cut short at the sides but grown past his shoulders in the back.

Haruchiyo brushed his hair back. “How can you say that? If you get anymore scars you will never be able to get married.”

Takeomi’s grin widened. “Funny you should mention that…”

Haruchiyo’s eyes went wide. “The meeting went well? You met her?”

Takeomi shook his head. “I didn’t meet her, but the Lord of Baye has agreed with the proposal. I won’t be a bachelor much longer.” He ruffled Haruchiyo’s hair before walking ahead.

They naturally progressed toward the back gardens of the Toku compound. The beginnings of Spring were showing in the little pink and yellow flowers popping up between the sweet green grass, new dark green foliage growing from the thick, curving branches of the old tree. It was so huge its shadow casted over many housings, and Takeomi went to easily hop onto the first branch as Haruchiyo stared up from his place below.

“Well?” Haruchiyo prompted.

Takeomi hid a smile, aware of his younger brother’s thoughts but wanting to tease him a little. “Well what?”

“What does she look like? When is the wedding? Do you like her?”

“The wedding won’t be until she comes of age in a few years. Don’t worry, you get me as much as you want until then,” Takeomi winked. Haruchiyo spluttered. “I don’t care about that! Get married, it doesn’t matter.”

Takeomi laughed, seeing the clear jealousy on his brother’s face. He was worried Takeomi wouldn’t have time for him once he got married. His responsibilities as the crown prince already had intruded on most of the time they spent together.

“Besides, you’ll get one look at my wife and be angry with me for stealing her. She’s very beautiful.”

“Really?”

“Mm. She is so kind. While I was there I saw her caring for her sister. She will make a good empress. She is beautiful and compassionate.”

“You’re in love⁓,” Haruchiyo teased, but there was a flush on his cheeks, and Takeomi chuckled.

“I’m not sure about that yet, but I am fond of her. I’m sure I will grow to love her deeply in time just like father and mother.”

Haruchiyo unconsciously touched the scars on his face. They no longer hurt, but he was very much aware of them, with the whispers that followed after him when he visited the capital. How Ran had said they made him look ugly. Crazy. Unhinged when he smiled.

With Takeomi he couldn’t help it, though. The comforting presence of the man who raised him, even when he teased, made him feel so warm inside he couldn’t help but smile, his younger self coming out.

Takeomi suddenly leapt down from the tree, sensing Haruchiyo’s shifting mood. “Enough of this talk. Draw out your blade. Let’s see if you can finally beat me.”

“Ha! We both know I won’t. If I had as much experience as you, perhaps I would be more skilled.”

Takeomi glared. “You’re not fighting in the war. I won’t allow it.”

“Kin barely allowed you to fight. He would prefer I go, and this is one thing I agree with him on. Better me than you,” he mumbled.

“That’s not true,” Takeomi snapped. “What do you think our people think when the royal family mercilessly sends soldiers off to war- off to their death- one after another? They think we are cruel, and to us the lives of citizens are dispensable. They needs to see their future ruler fighting alongside them; know that they are not the only ones making sacrifices. And if anything happens to me, you will take my place as next in line.”

Haruchiyo rolled his eyes. His brother and his boring “justice for the people”. He didn’t even want to think about potentially taking the throne. “Nothing is going to happen to you. I know of none more skilled in sword art than you.”

Takeomi laughed and ruffled Haruchiyo’s hair again. “That’s true.”

“And would you quit doing that? I’m not a child anymore.”

“I can’t help it, you’ll always be my little brother,” Takeomi grinned wide, the soft pink setting sun behind him.

Haruchiyo sighed, finding his own lips stretching against his will. Only with Takeomi could he smile so unabashedly, so comfortably. Every other moment he felt the urge to scratch the scars on his face until they bled again, his mother’s face unwittingly entering his mind whenever he touched them.

His hand ran over them thoughtlessly, and Takeomi pulled his hand away, wearing a teasing grin.

“You shouldn’t be so self-conscious. You know, the women in the west like men with scars. It makes them look more rough and manly.”

“Is that so? If we weren’t at war with the Western plains I would think about moving there.”

“I’ll bring you back some courtesans the next time I return from the front, how would you like that?” Takeomi laughed.

“You’re treating me like a child again. I can find my own women. Even if they do not like my face, they all want to bed a prince.”

Takeomi stared at his younger brother silently. Out of all the princes born of Emperor Kin, Haruchiyo was without a doubt the most handsome. In some lights, he could be mistaken for a tall, slender woman, his hair so fine and his eyes so blue. The curve of his jaw and slope of his nose were almost delicate, and Takeomi found it incredibly sad that the person he loved most in the world thought themselves ugly.

Even when he smiled and the skin around his scars looked uncomfortably stretched, people still stared after him, trailed after him, coveted him.

Takeomi chuckled, slinging an arm around Haruchiyo’s shoulders.

“I bet they secretly want it to be me when you’re fucking them. Why lust after a plain prince when you could have the future emperor?”

Haruchiyo growled, his ears turning red. “Shut up! You are so annoying all the time.”

“But you still adore me,” Takeomi sang.

The younger prince rolled his eyes, but despite himself, he couldn’t quite hide the smile he wore. Of course he adored his brother. He hung the moon and stars, the sun rose and set with him. And there was no such light without him.

…

14 months later

“His body is in the process of being transported. Of course, Takeomi’s responsibilities will now fall to you, my prince. You will be moving back to the imperial palace under your father’s care and will wed Takeomi’s fiancée when she is of age. Your mother has just given birth so you’ll have to excuse the emperor and empresses absence in delivering you such terrible news. Here is the notice.” A paper was shoved into Haruchiyo’s hand as he stood shock-still.

He gazed down at the blurred sheet, unable to read a single word.

He had known. As soon as it happened he had known. He’d felt the invisible thread snap, a loss in a connection he had felt since the day he came into the world and his brother took him into his arms. He had jerked awake in bed, surrounded by a puddle of sweat as he gazed out the window to the mountains lit by a full moon. He couldn’t see past them, couldn’t see thousands of kilometres to the west, where the war was raging. But he felt something in his soul break.

A red robin flitted in front of him, settling in a high nest filled with tiny chirping chicks. The gurgling sound of the koi stream that ran around Toku’s estate met his ears, interrupting the loud drumming of his heart.

“My prince?” the man hedged.

Haruchiyo’s arm fell, the paper flitting to the ground. “Leave.”

The man stepped back and bowed.

“Long may you live, crown prince.” He left.

Long may you live, crown prince.

A small laugh bubbled out of him. His hand raised to press to his overfilled eye, sending tears pouring down his cheeks.

“What… does that even mean? But I am not the one who was supposed to live long…”

“Haru,” Rindou placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Rindou, tell me,” Haruchiyo stared at the other man with wide eyes. “Why am I alive and he is not?”

Why were the birds still chirping and the stream still flowing, the sun still setting… if he was no longer a part of this world?

Haruchiyo’s eyelids lowered, amusement tilting his lips up. “It’s like the sun is dying. Light is dying.”

Rindou’s eyes filled with water, the hand clutching tight to Haruchiyo’s robes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Takeomi was like a brother to me, too.”

Was.

He was alive. Haruchiyo had visited the capital just days before to say goodbye before Takeomi returned to the war. They spent the day in the imperial city together. He had been right there. He had been right there, breathing and talking and smiling.

Haruchiyo laughed again. “Did that even happen?” he muttered to himself. “That was a dream, right? He wasn’t actually here. People who have spent their whole lives alive don’t just disappear quickly.”

Rindou stared at Haruchiyo, unable to make sense of his words.

“Haru,” he reached for him again, startling back when a cackle of laughter erupted from the taller man.

“Haru…”

“Rindou, guess what?” Haurchiyo laughed, even as more and more tears continued to cascade down his cheeks.

“What?”

“I’m the crown prince! Did you know? I’m the crown prince. I better live long.” Hysterical laughter spilled from his lips, his chest jerking with the force of such unrestraint.

A deep shuddering breath shook through his whole body just before he collapsed to his knees, clutching his head in his hands. “He’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone. He’s… gone, Rin,” Haruchiyo stared back up at Rindou, his voice cracking. “Why is someone like him dead?”

“I don’t know, Haru.” Rindou’s lips pressed together as tears poured from his eyes, quietly, one after another. “I don’t know.”

…

14 days later

“Is the prince really dead?” Saeya whispered beside you, clutching your hands. Tears filled your eyes, memories of a man giving a young girl her doll flashing before you.

“Yes,” you responded. A warm smile flitted through your mind, the only time you had met the crown prince. He had seemed like such a warm person, it was hard to believe someone like that could just… die.

“Y/n, take care of Saeya. Your father and I have urgent business to discuss with the emperor and empress.”

“Yes.” You watched your mother and father wind through the crowd of people gathered after the prince’s burial.

“I need the bathroom,” Saeya tugged on your sleeve.

“What? Now? Okay, let’s find one.” You quickly ushered her back into the palace, already lost amidst the huge space and winding halls.

“Umm, this way maybe.” You guided Saeya around a corner, immediately running into another person and stumbling back.

“I am very sorry, I was not minding myse-” you stopped when you saw who it was, immediately bowing your head.

“My prince, please forgive me. I will be more careful in the future.”

He said nothing and so you peeked up at him, noticing his blank stare and red rimmed eyes. He didn’t seem to even acknowledge your presence, staring straight through you. You straightened, knowing it was a risk, but reaching out to touch his shoulder lightly.

“Prince Haruchiyo? Are you okay?” How foolish. Of course he wasn’t. His brother had been slaughtered in battle. Pain lanced through you for him.

“I’m very sorry for your loss,” you said softly.

He still didn’t react. It was if he were a shell of a person, unfeeling of anything around him.

“Where is he? Honestly,” a woman mumbled, coming around the corner. She stopped short at the sight of you and the prince. Your eyes widened and you immediately bowed your head.

“Your grace.” Saeya doing the same.

“You…” she stared at you before blinking out of thought, looking back to her son.

“Come. Now. You have certain duties you must fulfil now.” She took his elbow.

He smiled with his eyes closed and leaned his face close to hers. “Stop touching me casually, Sara. Stay the fuck away from me.”

You smelled the liquor on his breath as he spoke, how the red veins in his eyes connected to startingly blue irises.

“E-Excuse me,” you bowed once more, hurrying away from a conversation certainly not meant for your ears.

You looked over your shoulder once more to see the empress pleading with her son as he leaned back against the wall, arms folded across his chest. He clearly wasn’t listening to anything she was saying, his head turned away. Your eyes met, and this time his seemed to pierce straight through you, sending a cold shiver down your neck.

He lifted a hand and wiggled his fingers at you in a wave, smiling a smile you wouldn’t forget.

Tagging: @luka-ali @soushswag @crown5 @angelmitsuri @c4tboyxiao @azusachna @denkis-slut @rinrinfoxy @multistan-247 @7inaa @emilymikado @user82014069991

#sanzu x reader #haruchiyo sanzu x reader #haruchiyo akashi x reader #haruchiyo x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #bonten x reader #tokyo revengers series #sanzu series #haruchiyo akashi series #rins.works

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batwngs · 2 years

Note

Aaaaa tysm!!!Kory is so underappreciated!Is it okay if if request platonic hcs for being best friends with Kory?

i really think being friends with kory would mostly just be casual hangouts ranging between doing nothing/passive activities to doing things you both enjoy

so your hangouts are often spent taking trips around town to shop and try on clothes before getting lunch at a restaurant that opened not too long ago. or hanging out with donna too and going with them to kory's photoshoots in the park, where you pretty much cheer them on before donna turns the camera on you for smile and laughter-driven photos. or heading to a ceramics studio to paint and make bowls for each other's homes, where you both comment and laugh at each other's poorly shaped life-drawings translated onto the surfaces of mugs or coasters

regardless of whatever the both of you are doing (or not doing), the bulk of your hangouts are mostly conversations to catch one another on each other's lives. since kory is often off-world for weeks or months at a time, you only really are able to hangout for short (or long) bursts of time before the next mission or crisis rolls around. so its not unusual for the majority of your conversations to revolve around how school and/or work is going for you, how missions are going for her and how the titans are doing, or how you dealt with idiots you had to work with while kory was fighting an global threat

and it's not uncommon for you to find yourself on the kitchen floor of donna and kory's apartment, containers of left overs in your hands as you have one of your infamous late night conversations, a ritual between the three of you during your many sleepovers (a way to drag out the time spent together). these conversations travel great distances, shifting between rants about your day, the kind of photography donna wants to explore, and kory talking about tamaran. its nights like these where you all delve into each other's loves and hates, the missing and the found, the gapping emptiness of your souls and what crawls inside and makes that space home.

it's kind of also become ritual for you and kory to share gifts with one another, as if they're thank you notes and love letters for being in each other's lives and listening to what you each have to share. usually these gifts are echoes to previous conversations, like your painting a landscape of a corner of universe for kory based off of the descriptions she told you about from her last off-world mission

one thing to note is that kory loves greatly and is highly emotional, in that she becomes very attached in pretty much all her relationships. she carries this trauma and fear of abandonment with her that she also brings into her friendship with you. it appears mostly through her wanting to spend as much time with you as possible. after a few times of pseudo-moving into her and donna's shared apartment for several weeks before they left for a new mission, you both would eventually have that conversation about boundaries and establish a more healthy friendship

overall i really think a friendship with kory would be a very beautiful thing, filled with so much warmth and joy and love. even if y'all aren't always near by or available to spend time together, you both put in the effort to find time and meet each other in the middle :)

#koriand'r x reader #starfire x reader #koriand'r imagine #starfire imagine #:') also donnakory. yea.. <3

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sireditsalot4 · 9 months

Text

Summary: You almost accidently tell Penelope about your relationship with Emily and JJ.

This has been happening for a few months now. You met JJ and Emily at a bar, during one of their girls' night out. They were already in a relationship, and when you saw them, you couldn't help but charm your way into their lives. They accepted you. You thought they were the most beautiful creatures alive. It was meant to be only a sexual thing, but over the weeks you throuple spent together, the three of you knew it was more than that so decided to give it a try at a relationship. This went without anyone from their team knowing. Until today. Emily called you in the morning saying she forgot a box with important case files in it and to see if you can drop it off. You quickly hopped on your feet and grabbed your keys.

You enter the BAU building and quickly dig your phone from your pocket to dial Emily's phone number. "Hello?" She answered. "Hey, I'm down at the lobby. Um, how do I get up there?" You looked around for an elevator dodging around people. "Yeah, just wait there I'll come to you," Emily hangs up. You look around and decide to take the time to take in the building and stand in the corner out of traffic. You never seen what's inside of one of these boxes before. Curiosity getting the better of you, opening the lid a little you peak inside to see a bunch of paperwork and pictures, you couldn't quit see what they were due to the lid. "Are you lost?" A female voice asks, drawing your attention away from the box and startling you. You see who it is and see a plucky, colorful blonde woman standing there with a flamingo pen sticking out of her notebook. You’re guessing it’s Penelope Garcia JJ and Emily told you about. "No, I'm just here to drop this off for my girlfriend-friend." You corrected. Damn it.

"Maybe I can help? I'm on my way up so maybe I can give it to her. What's her name?" "Emily."

Penelope tilts her head, the name sounding familiar. "Emily? What's her last name?" "Prentiss. Emily Prentiss." Penelope nods with a smile. Emily pushes through the glass doors and jogs to you and sees Penelope. "Hey, thank you so much for bringing me this. Penelope this is my good friend, Y/N. Y/N this is Penelope."

"I heard a lot about you. Nice to finally meet you." You smile, shaking her hand. "Sorry to cut this short, but I must get going." You turn your attention to Emily, "If you need me I’ll be at home." And with that you excused yourself. Penelope the whole-time was side eyeing you both in suspicion. "She seems nice. Who is she?"

Emily shakes her head. "Just a friend. Come on, Hotch needs us."

#criminal minds #I’m pretty sure Penelope would be the first one to get it in a heart beat #Emily x JJ x Reader

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belltrigger · 2 years

Text

Submastober Day 13 - Switcheroo

I was thinking about @glassesblu's butt totch comic, and how much I love the expressions in it. I can't match that amazing energy, but I can sure be inspired by how much I love that comic.

There's some spice at the beginning because I wanted to, eheehee.

Title: Switcheroo Word count: 1411

The soft rustle of cloth as Kudari shift upwards in the bed to nip and kiss at Nobori's jawline was not enough to cover the gasps and pleased sighs that came from his beloved older brother.

Kudari would have been playful with Nobori tonight anyway, having had his brother's blushing, debauched face in his mind during his entire shift. But, there was also a second reason that he wanted to please his twin, bring him to the edge so deliciously that Nobori was begging and agreeing to anything his precious little brother's heart desired.

Time spent in Gear Station had begun to be a little boring. Kudari would always love the subway, but circumstances were making the last few shifts drag. The weather was bitter outside, and people weren't in the mood to travel as frequently during the storms that had been hitting the area for the last few weeks. Few skilled challengers had been showing up to their trains. White was in a completely different region, though she occassionally called them on her livecaster to tell them what she and her own twin had been up to.

So, Kudari wanted to do something tomorrow to make things more fun. Although Nobori was warm and beautiful in their bed, at work he'd been as stiff as the passengers coming in from the cold. But he had a great idea that Nobori would find to be really fun too. He just had to make sure his twin was in the best mood to pitch his idea.

Shutting his eyes partway playfully, his hand wandered teasingly over a spot that drove his older twin wild. Nobori panted and clung to him, thighs closing tight around his hand.

"Kudari, why are you teasing me so tonight?" his brother asked, writhing under his touch. "Have some mercy on your big brother."

Chuckling against the skin of Nobori's throat, Kudari gave the sensitive bit under his jaw a nip. "Will Nobori do *anything* for mercy?" Skillfully, his fingers continued their teasing, drawing a whine from his twin.

"H-Haah, yes. What are you asking of me?"

"I, Kudari, wanna switch uniforms tomorrow!" His brother huffed out a laugh of his own, even as he wriggled against Kudari's ministrations. "It will be fun," he continued, and pressed a kiss against the skin he'd just been marking up.

Between pants, Nobori promised that he would think about it. Kudari spent the rest of the night doing his very best to convince his twin that it was a good idea.

The next morning, Nobori was still undecided over breakfast, even though Kudari thought he had been verrrrry convincing. But they debated it again *without* all the kisses and touching, and Nobori lost when he agreed that it would probably be pretty funny to see the reactions of any regulars that came through.

And so, Kudari hummed happily as they travelled to work, and Nobori nudged him, asking if he wanted to pretend to be each other or not. Kudari smiled brightly and said what happened, happened. The important part of the fun was that they were wearing each other's uniforms - loads of their poses for battle had them facing away from challengers at first, and if pressed, he could imitate his brother's expression for short spans of time.

To further hide that they were switched, they patrolled separately. Taking Nobori's early morning position near the ticket station, he folded his hands behind his back, and crisply brought his heels together. He began to practice Nobori's charming frown, even though passers-by would only see 'Nobori' making any number of squishy expressions.

That is, they would see that until people began coming up to him. His first expectation was that they were the normal passengers he dealt with every day. But, each and every single one of them came bearing perfumed envelopes or clumsily folded, expensive paper sealed with a heart sticker. One person just mutely shoved a paper with "I like you, Nobori-sama" written in highly elegant and sweeping letters.

At first, he tried to be polite. "Nobori can't, sorry!" was his initial response. If the people thought it odd that Nobori referred to himself in the third person, it was greatly overshadowed by their disappointment. Trying to spice it up, he threw in a few more firm responses. Eventually, he was getting fed up with people endlessly distracting him from his duties and had started just flat out saying "No. Goodbye!" Nobori would not have approved his tone, but luckily his big brother wasn't here.

Leaning against a wall, he sighed both in frustration and admiration of his older brother. "Nobori nii-san is verrrrry popular. I, Kudari, had no idea. Good thing Nobori was not here. I, Kudari, have protected him!"

As he was speaking out loud to himself, arms crossed and eyes shut in thought, a hand slapped the wall beside his head. Snapping his eyes open, his brows knit together in confusion. Before he could even get out a word of surprise, some man he'd never seen before leaned in. Voice smooth with a practiced ease that gave Kudari the creeps, he crooned "Well, well, if it isn't the Cool Beauty of the Subway."

Kudari was barely able to pay attention to the guy's use of a nickname he'd never heard before before a sensation creepy crawled it's way through his entire body. Only Nobori had ever placed his hand there and---!

---

Although it had been Kudari's idea to switch their uniforms for the day, Nobori was actually having a fun time. There had been quite a few people who'd come to him thinking he was his younger twin, and they had all been quite shocked when they learned the truth. One person even complimented him on how he looked in white, said he should wear it more often. He laughed and said they merely needed to look at his twin for that.

Just as he was pondering if he should meet Kudari for their lunchbreak, he felt a distinctive fuzz of electricity in the air. His twin was nearby, likely with a few Joltiks or Gavantula. Taking a few steps towards where the energy began to crackle, some person skidded around the corner, being lit up with electricity as they ran.

Opening his mouth to call out to the man to stop running, he soon caught sight of his twin chasing the man, throwing joltik after joltik at him. Each of the little bugs latched on and bit into the man's clothing, shocking him every few steps.

Grabbing his twin's collar, Kudari made a little 'hrk!' sound as he stopped short. "Kudari! What are you doing?" His very first instinct was to chastise his twin - they shouldn't be hurting the passengers!

"Hi Nii-san. They touched your butt!"

Staring at Kudari for a brief moment, he tried to parse the situation. No one had touched him, and the first time he'd seen that man today was when Kudari was chasing him down. "They certainly did not. "

"They did!"

"Do you mean they touched *your* butt?"

"Your butt!"

Narrowing his eyes, Kudari smiling flatly at him, he instantly understood through his twin's echolalia. Now, it was his turn to find the man, scruff him, and toss him out of the subway. "And stay out!"

"That was cool, Nii-san," Kudari said, tone impressed. Letting out a huff of frustration, he looks to Kudari when his baby brother speaks.

"I believe it is time that we switched back, Kudari. It is not proper of us to mislead passengers in such a way." In truth, he was worrying for Kudari; if someone would think it appropriate to touch his younger twin due to the black uniform, it was best to have him back in white.

"Boo, No-fun Nobori." As Kudari said it, though, he began to pat his hand on Nobori's butt, repeating a pattern he often patted out on a table. After the run in with that nuisance, Kudari should be behaving himself better.

"Do not touch my butt at work, Kudari!" he continued with a huff as they headed back in the direction of the offices.

"I, Kudari, am touching my own butt!"

"That is not how this works, and you know it!" Though, if Kudari could giggle and tease like this, he must not have been too gravely affected by the unwanted attention. But still, Nobori would have to be more diligent in the future, for the safety of his baby brother.

#rs submastober #blankshipping #submastober #Bell fic #Blankship Midnight Train

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hide-your-bugs-away · 2 years

Note

hi omg can u just rant about bonovan i need my bob and don fix!!

!!!! BONOVAN MOMENT AAAA OF COURSE!! I love those two softies with my entire heart,, who gave them the right to just chill and listen to one another's music with so much tenderness and adoration??

(Ramblings below:) 😔

Okay, first of all, I'm still on a mission to collect little tidbits of Bob/Don info from vintage magazines when I'm able to... I'm pretty satisfied with the information I've gathered for them so far, but every now and then, I find something really cool (and soft) that I really want to get for myself. This time, it's an issue of Record Mirror from May of 1965; May 15th, to be exact (don't think Bob had even left London yet)! In this issue, Don reviews all of the tracks from "Bringing It All Back Home" and a a a,, it's really sweet. Mentions the songs that Bob played for him,, and also says that it's impossible for him to put into words how he thinks about him. 🥺🥺 Bob's like: marry me now please

Here's a link to the article:

Now, why would I potentially want to spend $70 on an article that I can just read online?? Agh,, gotta hold the softies,, y'know?? 😢😢

Besides that, have to give a shout-out to Dr. Bonovan (as @/daisychain-unchained and I affectionately call him,, his real name is William Rothman) - author of the book Documentary Film Classics. It's all about cinéma vérité films, a huge section devoted to Dont Look Back, and it's honestly one of the best, most thorough interpretations of the movie I've ever read (besides our own gay version, of course 👀). I'm biased... but I really appreciate the affectionate way in which he interprets Bob and Don's relationship, despite using only the context of the movie to draw from. Some of his phrasing, such as "Dylan nods, laughing almost shyly, as if appreciating Donovan's appreciation of him," with regards to their song-exchange, or considering Bob's reference to Donovan in his performance of "Talking World War III Blues" as "an affectionate public acknowledgement", or the fact that he insinuates that Bob blowing up like he did during the drunk-glass situation was for Donovan's benefit - to impress him. Not even I thought of reading the situation like that before... beautiful. 👀 Hannah said it's written like a fanfiction, and it really is! Shout-out to this film scholar for combating dumb YouTube comments worldwide who think they hated each other and tells the correct, affectionate narrative. 😔🙏

Alright, realistic stuff out of the way, let's get s o f t. Like how l'd like to think they hung out during Bob's '66 tour of England, and that Don noticed how exhausted and tired he was from the crazy schedule and the constant berating of his choice to go electric (a choice Don whole-heartedly supports). So he takes Bob away on a drive when he's got some downtime. To the seaside cliffs of St. Ives, one of Don's favorite places to relax and let himself just sink into nature - he wants to share it with Bob. And let him know that he's supported and loved and always has someone to turn to if he needs it. The get stoned on the cliffs together, spend the night outside, arms around one another, listening to the waves and each other's heartbeats. And it's one of the most rejuvenating experiences Bob has had in his entire life.

!! Also, here are a couple doodles of them for the soul. 😔🙏 I need to post my art of them more,, they're really relaxing and fun for me to draw!! Fluffy-haired softies are a guilty pleasure of mine. 🥺

ONE MORE THING,, it's thanks to Bob that Don met the Beatles which is 👀👀 a whole thing I won't get into now because,, I'm planning a comic for it,, BUT AAA!! Important!! Important moment in music history, and important because it proves that Bob really cares about him, enough to coordinate things and allow Donovan to meet a band he has been eager to meet for a while! 🥺

#aGDHHSHSHS THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME GO OFF ABOUT THEM AAAAA 🥺🥺🥺#tHEY ARE SOFTNESS INCARNATE.........#big guilty pleasure ship of mine......... i literally have dylan digs donovan hanging over my pillow #my first mag ever was rave's june 1965 'in the shadow of dylan'#i own an awful bootleg karaoke cd of their music #they are the reason i learned about the funky piano man 😢😢😢😢#agHgHH they are the reason 'dont look back' is a cinematic masterpiece #they are just....aghhh wonderful soft #so much to draw from just a few short weeks they spent together...... it's beautiful #anyway thanks you again for letting me ramble i'm always happy to talk about and provide content about them 🥺🥺#all of my comfort ships are rarepairs so anytime i'm able to talk about them or share my art...... i go feral #i also go feral when i watch dont look back #thanks for setting them up alan #asks #anon #things i said today #bonovan #dylovan #devil in her art

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littlemissnoname13 · 3 years

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Hello can I request where draco in fourth year having a crush on a hufflepuff reader but acts as arsehole cuz he doesn’t know how to show affection , leading it to her avoiding him which makes him depressed about what did he do wrong ?

Hi love. Thanks for the request.💕

I love writing Draco x hufflepuff!reader stories! I am a sucker for a slytherin x hufflepuff pairing.

I added a few extra details here and here. Hope you like it. X

Hopeful (Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader)

Word count: 2100 sorry got a bit carried away. 😅

Warnings: None. Soft!Draco being an absolute blubbering idiot.

Draco’s thoughts are written in green

Spring had arrived.

It could be felt in the cool and gentle zephyr that made the shiny new leaves on top of the once barren and dead trees rustle.

Daisies were in full bloom and the wind had managed to carry some of the petals away—making them fall to the ground, acting like a harbinger of the fast approaching summer.

Draco couldn’t be bothered if it was spring, or autumn or winter.

In that particular moment, all he wanted to do was get away from the Slytherin common room and Pansy Parkinson.

He had taken her to the Yule ball and things had sort of fizzled out afterwards. He couldn’t get himself to see her as anything other than a friend.

Having ran all the way to a far and secluded area of the Hogwarts grounds, Draco leaned against a tree trunk and panted heavily in an attempt to catch his breath.

“Are you—are you alright?”

Your voice startled him and he quickly stood up straight to look around.

You were sitting criss-crossed on the grass with your transfigurations textbook opened on your lap. Your shirt sleeves were rolled up and your yellow and black tie hugged very loosely around your neck.

“Fine.” He muttered as he slowly sat down noticing a single daisy tucked behind your ears.

After sitting there in complete silence for the next few minutes, he finally spoke up.

“What are you even doing here anyway?”

“Just wanted some peace and quiet to be honest.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “It’s a beautiful day.”

Draco just hummed in response and kept staring at the daisy in your hair that swayed lightly with the breeze.

“What?” You asked when you noticed.

“You have—you have a twig stuck in your hair.”

“A daisy.” You corrected him as you closed your book and moved a bit closer to where he was sitting. “It’s a daisy.”

“Yeah I know that. I’m not stupid.” He said quickly. “But why?”

"Well, Daisies are essentially two flowers blended together in complete harmony." You said pulling the daisy out of your free falling hair before putting your hand forward to hand it to him.

“And?” Draco reluctantly took the flower from you and blinked his eyes in confusion.

“They are said to resemble innocence—true love even.” You explained getting comfortable next to him.

“You believe in all that?” Draco scoffed, twirling the flower between his index finger and thumb. He couldn’t tell if the floral fragrance was coming from you or the air but it made him slightly queasy nonetheless.

“Merlin. No.” You scrunched up your nose. “It just gives me hope I guess.”

Draco gave you another hum in response. For someone who came up with snarky and sometimes witty comments on the spot, he found himself weirdly tongue tied.

“I know you were hiding from Pansy by the way.” You remarked, making a small smile pull at his lips.

“How come?”

“What do you mean how come?” You rolled your eyes. “Everyone can see that she is obsessed with you for some reason that I personally can't seem to comprehend.”

~~~~~

The next day during potions class, Draco slowly opened his book and started to absently doodle on it with his quill while Snape talked about the upcoming potions essay that had to be done in pairs.

Draco knew he should be paying attention but he just couldn’t get the interaction between you two out of his head.

And just when he took a deep breath and decided to focus, a familiar scent started to fill his lungs up.

Fruity, almost spicy notes of strawberry and pink grapefruit mixed with gardenias, vanilla and musk. It felt like someone had tossed a huge bouquet into the room.

He knew it was you without even bothering to look up from my book.

"Ah, Miss y/l/n. Late again." Snape muttered. “Five points from Hufflepuff house.”

You quietly sat down next to your friend with your head hung low and Draco fought an unexplainable urge to give you a hug.

"The essay must be done in pairs.." Snape said.

Great.

"Ronald Weasley and Gregory Goyle."

This is exactly what I needed right now. Thanks Snape.

"Blaise Zabini and Hannah Abott."

The last thing I need is someone weighing my essay down.

"Draco Malfoy and y/n y/l/n."

What?

You turned back to look at Draco and gave him an apologetic smile and he didn't understand why you kept smiling at him. It's not like the both of you had suddenly formed an unlikely bond with each other.

Draco scowled at you in return and quickly raised his hand. "May I work on my essay alone?"

"No. You may not Mr. Malfoy."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Draco had been studying in the library for almost an hour. Because you were quietly sitting next to him, his elbows and knees slightly brushed yours every few seconds and as much as he hated to admit it, He secretly enjoyed it.

Contrary to yesterday, Draco was trying very hard to make a conversation with you. You seemed somewhat offended that he had asked Snape to work on the essay alone.

“I am happy to do most of the writing if you can look up all the ingredients.” You offered.

You don’t have to do all of that yourself. I am happy to help with the writing too. Is what he should have said.

“Fine whatever.” He said instead as he reached for a copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi.

That night, Draco stayed up tossing and turning in his bed before giving up on getting any sleep for the night.

He lethargically walked towards his dresser and put his hands in his blazer pocket pulling out the now dried and pressed daisy from the other day.

Taking a deep breath, he put the flower in between the pages of his copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi.

You were drawing him in, undoing him, unraveling him even.

He knew that.

But did you?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Draco! Open up."

His head jolted towards the door and He quickly walked over to open it.

You stood on the other end with books tucked in your arms, wearing your denim shorts and a plain white tank top—looking like summer personified.

The more time he spent with you, the more he started to notice your quirks. Like that the way your skin glowed as the days got warmer.

Compliment her. Do it. It’s not Difficult.

“Did you do something different to your hair?”

“Uh—no why are you asking.”

“It just looks a bit strange.” He commented wanting to slap himself.

"Okay, well are you going to let me in?" You questioned, wondering why he was blocking the way and asking you about your hair.

Why did you have to wear that God damned tank top-

"Sorry?" You asked stepping inside making his cheeks burn when he realized he wasn’t meaning to say that out loud.

"Just shut up and get back to working in the essay or whatever it is that you were doing." Draco grumbled feeling embarrassed as he grabbed some fresh parchment.

Okay. Focus. The Strengthening solution requires...

You stretched a little and pushed your hair away from your face.

several days to mature...

"Staring is rude Draco." You suddenly interrupted his thoughts as you set your eyes on his—peering right into his soul.

Draco felt like he was giving you some sort of power over him and the possibility of you using that power and leaving him heartbroken made him feel so very vulnerable.

He couldn't take the vulnerability a second longer.

"I don't think we should study together anymore." He blurted quickly standing up. “It's for the best.”

"Huh?" You stood up contorting your face in total confusion—wondering just what you had done to piss him off. "What's wrong Draco? Did I do something wrong?"

"Leave. Now." He muttered with his teeth clenched.

Please don’t go.

"Just go—leave please."

You couldn’t help but feel a sharp sting burning your insides as you gathered all the books that were on the floor and ran made your way towards hufflepuff dormitories with tears threatening to flood your eyes.

As soon as you ran off, he punched his wall and muttered out the plethora of angry curses when the impact bruised his knuckles.

~~~~~~~~~~~

During the following week, Draco failed to show up to any of your shared classes after you had refused to talk to him after what happened.

Even if you did manage to see him walking down the halls or walking with Crabbe and Goyle, you noticed that he looked like he hadn’t eaten or slept in days.

On a Tuesday, Draco looked at the Hufflepuff table during breakfast and when you caught his eye, all you did was look away.

Everyone at school had their opinions about him—most of them weren’t good opinions.

But when you were with him under that tree, he seemed different. His smirk was more playful than condescending. It managed to charm you in a way.

You took a final bite of your toast and gathered all your books, walking to your Potions class.

His seat still remained empty and you shook your head, trying to snap away from the thoughts of him as you flipped open your book.

Only it wasn’t your book.

You didn’t remember writing on the margins and making annotations on your book.

Running your fingertips along the pages, you flipped to the very first page of the book.

D. Malfoy was written in ridiculously neat handwriting and you shook your head when you realized that you had grabbed his book with you that day by mistake.

And just when you were about to put his book away, something fell from in between the pages and fell onto your desk.

It was the daisy you had woven into your hair the other day. Even in its dried state, the petals remained intact like her had done something to keep them that way.

When class was finally over, you made a quick beeline towards the slytherin dungeons, bumping into people along the way.

~~~~~~~~~

“Some hufflepuff girl is standing outside the dungeons asking to see you.” Theo shrugged when he saw Draco at the common room sofa. “Says it's urgent.”

He felt terrified yet so elated as he quickly stood up and made his way outside.

“Here’s your book.” You said taking a step towards him. “You never told me what’s wrong by the way.”

“Thank you.” Draco quickly took his book from you and stared at the ground.

“Why did you stop talking to me y/n?”

“You told me to go away—If I remember correctly.” You said shaking your head at him. “Tell me Draco, what’s wrong?”

“Everything.” He said quietly, meeting your gaze.

"What do you mean?"

"You make me feel all weak.....and smiley...and I hate it." He looked at you with agitation.

"Weak?" You ran your fingers through your hair in confusion.

"And your ridiculous white tank top." Draco half yelled.

"What's wrong with my top?" You asked, raising your voice slightly as if you had had enough of this.

"Nothing is wrong except for the fact that you look stunning in it.” He blurted involuntarily. "It is absolutely distracting when one is trying to study!."

He watched you open your mouth in shock and close it. Before he could spend another minute trying to solve the riddle that was your expression, you grabbed him by his tie and placed your lips on his.

His brows furrowed as he kissed you back tenderly. Tasting the sweetness of your lips—pouring out every bit of suppressed passion and adoration he felt for you with his lips.

There was something so strange and euphoric about finally kissing someone he had been longing to kiss for so long.

Something so magical about holding the person that fits perfectly into his arms.

Freaking Finally.

He was slightly disappointed when you slowly backed away, but the glow on your skin and the glossy ness in your eyes made him smile.

"I guess I'll leave before I realize the consequences of what I have just done." You said softly as you held his face and placed a small peck on his lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, you found a tiny box and an envelope on your desk when you woke up. Your roommate let you know that Draco Malfoy had stopped by late last night when you were asleep and half begged and half threatened her to leave the box on your desk.

You slowly opened the box and found a bedazzled and whimsical looking daisy necklace, encrusted with gems.

A Daisy for my daisy.

You give me hope.

- D.M

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco Taglist: @dracomalfoyisindahouse @dracomalfoys-wh0re @maybesandohnos @justfangirlthingies @desiredmalfoy @dlmmdl @trainintersection @fa-me @dracoswhore007 @paulina1998 @wh0re4blaise @marrymetheonott @quacksonsssandtea @letoof @rvaldez7569 @loloo22 @emma67 @berriemalfoy @thegaudess @itchywitch33 @louweasleymalfoy @lunar0se10 @savagelysarcasticslytherin @fleursbabe @teawineaddict @thebitchybeatle @malfoyxxdraco23 @fantasyfairysworld @trashyvicks @h0ggyw0ggyh0gwarts @l0vely-lupin @linasylveon @amwitherspoon @the-bisexual-bitch

Love you all sm. (if i was unable to tag you, please look into your privacy settings)

Fell free to send me reuests. My other stories can be found here.

Join my taglist here.

- violet-Anne

#harry potter #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy #slytherin #draco lucius malfoy #draco one shot #draco x hufflepuff!reader #draco fluff

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cherienymphe · 3 years

Text

Bloodied Crowns (Peter Parker x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, STEPCEST, murder, violence, abusive realtionships, Tony x reader, prince!Peter, king!Tony, queen!Reader

➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ based off of this ask

summary: When your husband, King Anthony, is killed in a coup staged by his son from his previous marriage, Peter, you are forced to marry the young man who no longer feels the need to hide his feelings.

Peter was only eighteen when you married the king, the stern monarch losing his wife only a few months prior. The engagement and the wedding happened so quickly, and before you knew it, you were married to King Anthony Stark. Truth be told, you’d feared that you’d never marry at all, and that you’d bring shame to your name, but a stroke of luck, or perhaps misfortune, had put you directly into the king’s path.

Your family had attended the queen’s funeral to pay your respects. It had been drilled into you to catch the eye of an available suitor, as it had been many times before, and while you were disgusted that you could not even properly pay your respects to the royal family, you understood your parents’ desperation. You were twenty-eight with no prospects on the horizon. They had no other children, no sons, your mother unable to conceive after yourself, and so the weight of carrying on the family name was solely on your shoulders.

Your family was not poor by any means, but you were far from wealthy. That being said, your mother spent an outrageous amount to get you the most captivating black dress money could buy. It was not something that would draw too much attention, but enough so that you did not look like a grieving widow yourself. When it was your turn to pay your respects, you recalled bowing to the young prince, the brunette barely acknowledging anyone’s presence. It was rumored that he and his mother were close, that he’d taken her death very hard, and the way he seemed to stare right through you confirmed as much.

When you bowed to the king, apologizing for his loss, you could feel his eyes on you. This was nothing you concerned yourself with. After all, you were speaking to him and he you, but when you rose, you were taken aback by the intensity you found in his dark eyes. Where his son seemed to look through you, the king could not seem to take his eyes off of you. No one else seemed to notice, and, brushing it off, by the time you returned home, you had forgotten all about it.

Until a few days later when a royal guard was at your door. You were being invited to dine with the king, the invitation extending to your family as well, and although you were confused, you knew you could not refuse. Even if you wanted to. The dinner was nice, and you were a bit surprised at how easy it was to get along with the king. You never thought him cruel, but you’d heard that he was a rather stern man. After supper, he extended the invitation to staying at the castle so that you would not have to travel back so late in the evening. Your mother answered before you had the chance to, and it was no surprise to you that the answer was yes.

The castle was so different during the night. It seemed less welcoming and more ominous, and you found it hard to sleep that night. Convinced that the corridors would be empty, you quietly slipped from your chambers and made your way down to the kitchens. There were still a few servants lingering about, cleaning or preparing for the next day. You felt guilty for bothering them for something to drink.

“Nonsense, my lady. I would be more than happy to get that for you,” a younger girl by the name of Guinevere told you.

“Oh...please,” you waved her off. “No one is around. Call me Y/N.”

Her eyes seemed to sparkle as you told her your name, but she said nothing more as she gave you your water. The dark corridors did not scare you, but the eerie silence was a bit off putting, especially in such a grand structure. You had turned the corner to make your way back to your room when you bumped into none other than the prince. You had almost dropped the drink, and you placed your hand on your chest in an attempt to still your heart.

“Your highness. My apologies, I did not see…”

Your words died in your throat as the prince fixed you with a look that made your stomach churn. You snapped your mouth shut, swallowing as he simply glared at you, brown eyes looking so much darker. You had not seen him since the queen’s burial, and he did not look much better than he did then. Before you had a chance to say anything else, he had shoved past you, almost making you drop the goblet in your hand, and a low gasp escaped you as your other shoulder harshly met the wall. You turned to watch him go, shock and confusion pouring through you, wondering what you had done to offend him so.

It was only a few weeks later did you get your answer.

“I...I beg your pardon?”

The king reached for your hand, a soft breeze ruffling his dark hair as he brought it to his lips. They were soft as they brushed over your skin, and the corner of them curved upwards into a smile.

“Everything is already being arranged, but...this is my formal proposal. I need a queen, Peter needs a mother, and you are everything I could have hoped for,” he told you.

You stared at him in shock, feeling as if the world had been ripped out from beneath your feet. Your mind whirled as you tried to make sense of this and where this had come from, and suddenly, the puzzle started to piece together. The countless dinner invitations, the gleam in your parents’ eyes, the hushed conversations...the prince’s animosity. You were being courted by the king this whole time...and you’d been none the wiser. His chuckle pulled you from your thoughts.

“When your mother told me that you could be quite oblivious, I thought that it was a simple exaggeration.”

He found humor in your distress, you realized, and you swallowed.

“I do not know what to say,” you slowly breathed, and you watched him tilt his head at you, a frown beginning to form.

“You say yes,” he said with a scoffing laugh as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

You realized that to anyone else, it would be.

“Your majesty...I feel as if we’ve only just met. Surely, you would allow me time to think-.”

“Think about what?”

His hand tightened on yours, and you winced. He leaned in, genuine confusion in his dark eyes as he stared into your own.

“I am a king telling you that you are to be my queen...and you are hesitant?”

The severity of the situation suddenly dawned on you. Anthony was a king. You were a mere lady attempting to refuse his proposal for marriage, and your heart sank to your stomach. You blinked at him, and his face suddenly smoothed over as he sighed.

“Ah. I understand what this is about…”

“You do…?”

He softly smiled at you, reaching up to brush his thumb along your chin.

“You come from an acceptable background. You are beautiful and smart and kind. I assure you, this is genuine. This is not some poor attempt to cope with my grief. In all honesty, my marriage to the queen was over long before she died,” he told you.

You looked away, realizing that you were not getting out of this. Whether you liked it or not, you would be marrying the king, and with reluctance and a shaky voice, you accepted his proposal. He straightened when you did, a look of satisfaction on his features, and he looked as if he wanted to kiss you. You were thankful that he did not.

The wedding took place only a couple of months later, every nearby royal, and even some across the water, in attendance. It was a grand and beautiful affair, no expense spared, and it was days later that you found out it far outshined his first wedding. You remembered feeling sick as you walked down the aisle, the feeling only getting worse as your gaze met that of the prince.

In the time since the official engagement, you had interacted with the prince only a handful of times. Each time more disastrous than the last. You told yourself that he was grieving. His mother’s death was sudden and had hit him hard and here his father was, marrying again so soon. You did not fault him for his cold behavior. He was young, after all. You would expect nothing less, to be honest, but you could not lie and say that it did not hurt.

Unfortunately, even after the marriage, he did not soften towards you. Every attempt to get to know him was met with nothing short of loathing, and you finally accepted that he would come around in his own time. The last thing you wanted Peter to think was that you were trying to replace his mother. You did not know how long this would go on, but you did not expect it to be more than a year.

You were wrong.

“I throw that kid the best birthday celebration a nineteen year old could ask for and this is how he shows his appreciation? By not even having the decency to show up?”

Tony was angry as he sipped from his goblet, glaring down at the attendees dancing below. A wonderful number was being played by a string quartet, several single princesses in attendance, and an hour into the celebration, Peter was still absent. You placed your hand on your husband’s arm with a sigh.

“I am sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for it, Tony. He will show,” you tried to assure him.

His shoulders sagged as he slammed his drink down, and his eyes softened as he turned to you. He reached for you, and you flinched, but he paid it no mind as he brushed his finger along your cheek.

“You are far too nice to him...and he hardly deserves it,” he whispered.

“He’s your son,” you reminded him with a frown. “Do not talk about him like that.”

“He’s ungrateful,” he spat.

“He’s grieving,” you argued.

“It’s been a year,” Tony sneered. “How much time does he need?”

You sharply turned away, swallowing a sigh as anger flared within you. Sometimes Tony could be so insensitive, amongst other things, and it baffled you. Peter lost the only mother he ever knew, and Tony was treating it as if it was something minor. After a few more moments, you excused yourself under the guise of needing some air. In truth, you were determined to track down the prince.

It was not a hard task. He tended to frequent the same places when he called himself hiding. You found him deep within the grounds, lounging on a branch high up in the tree. It was getting late, the sun currently setting, and you held up the skirts of your dress as you trudged towards him. You knew that he heard you, and you resisted the urge to sigh as you stood below him. Your heart ached for him as you could not even begin to imagine what he was going through. After all, you still had both of your parents.

“Peter,” you eventually called.

He yet again pretended as if he had not heard you, a hurtful habit of his, and this time you did sigh.

“Peter, please come down. Your father is concerned about your whereabouts, and...and I am concerned about you. I-.”

“Why have you deluded yourself into thinking I care about how you feel?”

His tone was cold, venom coating every word, and your heart clenched. He rarely spoke to you, every time he did as cold as today, but this was different. You were unsure of what to say, and before you had the chance to remedy that, he was hopping down. It was a bit cool out, and his coat flared behind him as he strode towards you, face hard and nostrils flared.

“Why have you deluded yourself into thinking that I care about you at all?”

You reared back, staring at him with wide eyes. His words hurt, that you would not deny, and as much as you fought against it, you could feel a familiar burn behind your eyes. You swallowed, briefly glancing down as you took a step back.

“Peter-.”

“My mother was not even in the ground properly before you came sniffing around my father like a bitch in heat,” he sneered.

Your lips parted, wide eyes staring at him in shock at his words. You had never seen him look so hateful, borderline murderous, and you suddenly realized that this was about more than grief.

“P-Peter...that… That is not what happened-.”

“Isn’t it?” he wondered, taking another step towards you. “Do you think me stupid? Blind? You think I have never known of the way so many women prayed on my mother’s downfall?”

“I never-.”

“Do you think that I do not know that you all came to her funeral not as mourners, but as vultures? As desperate snakes trying to slip your way into my father’s bed so that you may take her place?”

“No! That is not what happened-!”

“You are no different from the rest!”

He was practically upon you now, glaring down his nose at you with so much disgust it finally made the tears spill over.

“I always knew that you were a desperate and conniving whore…”

You gasped, more tears falling at his insult. He raised one dark eyebrow at you.

“...but I never took you for a liar too.”

You were frozen as he looked you over one last time before breezing past you. You shook, unable to stop the tears, and you felt like you were going to be sick. You had no idea that Peter’s disdain was in fact not misplaced due to grief, but was instead as genuine as could be because he thought you to be something you were not. This knowledge made your heart hurt, and it turned out that you were not as adept at hiding your feelings as you thought.

“What troubles you so?” Tony wondered later that night, his hand on your shoulder as you sat at your vanity.

“Whatever do you mean?” you asked with a small smile.

His gaze met yours in the mirror, and the way his jaw clenched told you that he did not have much patience tonight. His fingers pressed into your skin, and you swallowed. You looked away, eyes blurring a bit as you recalled Peter’s cruel words.

“Peter hates me,” you confessed.

You heard Tony heave a sigh, and you turned to look up at him. He ran his hand through his hair as he rolled his eyes.

“That kid hates everyone and everything,” he replied.

“No, Tony. You do not understand. He believes me to be something I am not. He thinks that I schemed my way into marrying you, that I am trying to replace his mother-.”

“Peter will be just fine. He will grow to get over it in time,” was his enlightening reply, and you stood.

“But it is not true. Tony, does this not bother you? Because it bothers me! He should be like a son to me. He should be looking to me for guidance and care, and he curses the very ground I walk on. It hurts,” you spat, wrapping your arms around yourself.

Tony’s entire demeanor softened, and he pulled you into his arms. He pressed his lips to your cheek, and you winced at the soreness before he took your chin in between his fingers. He tilted his head at you.

“I love that you’ve grown to really care about him. It warms my cold heart…”

You forced a chuckle at that.

“...but Peter has always been a bit difficult when it comes to me and anything in relation to me. His mother is really the only person he ever really connected with. This will pass, I assure you.”

You reluctantly accepted that Tony just did not care about this as much as you did, and likely never would. Against your better judgement, you opted to let it go, and softly exhaled when Tony pressed his lips to your jaw. He trailed kisses down your neck, tightening his arms around you.

“As much as I enjoy your big heart, I would rather not spend the rest of the night discussing my troubled son,” he murmured, lips finally finding yours.

You did not know if you would ever grow used to making love to Tony. The only time he had ever been anything close to gentle was on your wedding night, and you had still cried, waking up sore and bruised. It eventually dawned on you that this was simply how Tony was, but it did not mean that you had to like it.

The years that passed did not improve things as you’d hoped they would. Tony was still the same as ever, and Peter was no different. Your conversations with the prince were rare, but every one was brief and left you with a paralyzing chill. When he was not speaking to you, his animosity was enough to force you to keep your distance. The hurt that his behavior caused never got any easier.

“When you have a child of your own, this will mean nothing to you,” Tony would assure you.

However, it only did the opposite. Even though Peter was not your own, it did not mean that you viewed him any less, and you knew that would not change when you finally did have a child. Whenever that happened. You and Tony had been trying for years, and there was still nothing to show for it. It was a great source of stress for you both, but Tony was taking it much harder than you.

“They say that it took many tries before they were finally able to have Peter, and even afterwards...the queen was never able to conceive again,” Guinevere had whispered to you one night.

“Oh,” you sadly said. “How awful…”

The blonde girl had glanced around the busy kitchen before leaning in.

“The king will never admit it, but many believe that he was the problem, and considering he is experiencing the same thing with you…”

Your heart sank as she trailed off, and despite everything, you found yourself feeling sorry for your husband. Many would argue that you should feel sorry for yourself. After all, it was a popular opinion that the woman’s womb was always at fault, and kings have gotten rid of their wives for less, but you knew that Tony was far too possessive of you to ever do such a thing.

It was a subject you wished you could talk to Peter about. He knew his father far better than you did, and sometimes you wished you could get some insight on how to make this better for him, but Peter was disgusted by your very presence. There came a time when you reluctantly accepted that it might always be this way, but everything changed when Peter was only a few weeks shy of his twenty-third birthday.

Tony, ever the showoff, was having a ball every week for five weeks straight leading up to the night. It was the second gathering when he had dragged you out of the great hall. His hold had been tight, steps hurried, and you forced yourself to swallow down the pain. The corridor was dimly lit and equally as empty, and tears of frustration were kissing your eyes.

“Tony-.”

“I saw you,” he spat.

“Saw me what? Saw me greet one of your friends? Because that is exactly what King Steven is to me and nothing more!”

His dark eyes were hard as he pressed his fingers into your arms, lip curled over his teeth as he sneered at you.

“He desires you. It is plain as day, and he has never been subtle,” he bit out.

“Somehow I am at fault for that? Steven is a bachelor in every sense of the word. That is how he is, and you know it-.”

“Yes, but I thought to myself, surely my loving wife would have the sense not to entertain his antics!”

“I was being polite,” you told him, wincing at his tight grip. “Just because you are only ever nice to people when you want something-.”

You swallowed your words with a sharp shriek, pressing your hand to your hot cheek as the tears finally spilled over. Your eyes were on the floor as Tony shook you, a scathing remark on his tongue, no doubt, when he suddenly stilled, swallowing whatever he was about to say. His sudden change confused you, and you hesitantly looked up only to realize that his gaze was not on you. You turned to find Peter standing just at the entrance of the corridor, his wide eyes on the two of you.

Tony was quick in straightening you up, and you hurriedly looked away as he acknowledged Peter.

“Why are you not enjoying your celebration with your friends?”

It was a while before Peter responded.

“I noticed that you had slipped out, so I came to find you. I had hoped to continue our...conversation from earlier,” the prince answered.

When you turned back around, you avoided Peter’s eye, but you could still feel the weight of his gaze. Tony’s hand was rubbing into your back as he responded.

“Of course. Sweetheart, you will excuse us, won’t you? Peter and I have much to discuss, and I am sure the other wives are missing your presence,” he said, turning to you.

He threw you a tense and threatening smile, and you shakily returned it with a forced one.

“Of course. I shall see you in there when you return. Peter,” you acknowledged as you hurried past him, avoiding his gaze still.

You did not return to the hall though, but instead made your way down to the kitchen. It was filled with servants, and Mary Jane gasped when she saw you. She and Guinevere were always joined at the hip, but the other girl had been ill for the last few days. The redhead dropped what she was doing, shooing another servant off of a stool before grabbing your arm.

“My God,” she breathed.

The other occupants tended to the food and drinks, much too used to seeing you down here twice a week or so. Mary Jane pressed a cold piece of steak to your face, and you hissed.

“Is it that bad?”

“It is swelling already, your majesty,” she said.

You shifted on the seat, holding the cold meat to your face as you shooed her off.

“I hardly notice how hard he hits anymore. It still manages to shock me every time though, and I have no idea as to why,” you whispered.

She was just about to reply when another voice rang throughout the kitchen.

“Everyone out.”

You turned with wide eyes, confusion tearing through you at the sight of Peter just at the bottom of the stairs. Everyone seemed to hesitate for a moment, worrying about the food, no doubt, before eventually heeding his order. Mary Jane, no stranger to your relationship with the prince, threw you a worrying look before being the last one out. Peter seemed to hesitate as well before huffing, quickly approaching you.

You moved to stop him, but he was already pulling the red meat from your cheek before you had the chance. He stared at your skin for a while before putting it back in place. You held it there as he leaned against the counter, a familiar look of anger on his boyish features.

“This is not the first time this has happened,” he murmured.

There was no need to respond. It was a statement, not an answer. The silence was heavy, thick with tension and filled with words unspoken. Outside of that night, this was the longest you had ever been alone with Peter, and the first time you did not feel uncomfortable in his presence.

“You did not want to marry my father...did you?”

You looked at him with wide eyes, lips parting to refute such a blasphemous statement, but no words came out. Words failed you. Peter was a smart young man, always had been, and you were sure that he would see through whatever lie you pieced together.

“Of course, it was not like you could refuse if you wanted to. He is a king, and you were a mere lady,” he said more to himself than you.

You sighed, putting the steak down as you stood.

“My father has never been kind to anyone in his life. I do not know why I thought you were an exception…”

“Peter… I do not want this to affect how you view your father, do you understand?”

He simply frowned at you, and you continued.

“He is not without his flaws, this is true,” you slowly said. “...but he is still your father. In his own way, he loves you and only wants what is best.”

Peter stared at you for a while before scoffing, a humorless laugh not far behind. He pressed his hand to the counter as he stared at you with a look of shock.

“My father does not deserve you,” he said, almost as if he could not believe it.

He chuckled again, pressing his hand to his forehead.

“All this time, I thought that the two of you deserved each other. I hated you...and now...now I just feel sorry for you. For both my father...and me…,” he quietly finished.

“Peter-.”

“I have been nothing but cruel to you, and for that I am sorry. I am sorry for the things that I have done...and the things that I have said.”

You blinked, convinced that you would never hear those words. They warmed your heart, and you looked away.

“It’s alright. You believed what you believed, and if I were in your shoes, I might have believed the same. Your feelings were valid, Peter,” you told him.

He blinked at you.

“I never wanted to replace your mother. That is still not what I desire...but I am here. I know that there is only a decade between us, but I have come to love you like a son despite everything.”

Peter’s eyes softened, and you could see the guilt there.

“I never wanted to rush you, even now, but I hope that you will view me the same one day. Tony is no longer your only parent, and I am always here.”

Peter looked as if he wanted to say something else, but he held off.

“I should get back before your father comes looking for me,” you said, heading for the stairs. “Oh...and please refrain from provoking him.”

You looked to Peter.

“I may dislike him at times, but I do not want to send him to an early grave.”

Peter simply hummed, sending you a strained smile before you left him to find your husband.

You remained in the corridor as the angry voices bled through the door. Both Tony and Peter assured you countless times that their strained relationship was none of your concern, but it could not be helped. They had never had the best relationship, but if possible, it had soured even more over the years, and you were unsure of who to blame.

The minute Tony started to get more serious about grooming Peter for the throne, things had gone from tense and strained to borderline violent at times. Not only did the two have such opposing views when it came to how to run the kingdom, but your husband had been pushing the idea of marriage more and more lately. It had only gotten worse when Peter neared his twenty-fifth birthday, the party on that fateful day ending abruptly when Peter had stormed out.

You were pulled from your reverie when the door swung open. Peter was the first one out, and he held up a hand as you moved to approach him.

“Not now, Y/N,” he huffed, quickly striding down the corridor with a frustrated sigh.

Tony emerged not long after, and you moved to kiss him, knowing that it would soothe him for the time being.

“That boy will be the death of me,” he complained.

“You both provoke each other, and I do not know why,” you told him.

“He has duties! He is twenty-five and nowhere near taking them seriously. It seems that he is determined to ruin me,” he spat.

You sighed.

“Would you like for me to talk to him?”

“You seem to be the only one he actually listens to, so by all means,” he gestured down the hall, face cloudy.

You patted his chest before leaving him, wondering if a day would come where you would be a functional family. You and Peter were nowhere near what you used to be, and for that you were eternally grateful, but his relationship with Tony was far worse than it had ever been, and you did not know how to even begin to fix it.

You found Peter sparring with his dueling instructor. The sound of clashing swords was loud, and you rounded the corner, wincing when Peter just narrowly missed a rather dangerous blow. He motioned for the other gentleman to stop once he spotted you.

“Come on his behalf, have you?”

“Peter,” you sighed.

He snapped at the other man.

“Give your queen a sword, will you? Come,” he was talking to you now. “Spar with me.”

You reluctantly accepted the other man’s sword, a grimace on your face as you stepped forward.

“I am a horrible dueling partner,” you complained.

“Nonsense, Y/N. You are far better than what you were a year ago,” Peter said with a chuckle.

Your heart sank a bit at the sound of your name, but it did not distract you from blocking the swing of his sword with your own. Peter smirked at you.

“See?”

“Peter, this is not why I am here,” you told him.

“Of course not,” he calmly said. “My father knows that between the two of you, you are the only one I actually respect. He believes that you have some sway over me...and I am not reluctant to admit that he is right.”

He blocked your blow, quick to do so again when you swung your sword down towards his legs. He eyed you, a bit of pride in his gaze.

“Very good,” he praised.

“I was hoping to talk you into agreeing to some sort of compromise with him. Any compromise, really.”

Peter let out a humorless laugh, spinning before bringing his sword down over his head. Your eyes were wide as you lifted your sword, the sound of them clashing meeting your ears.

“There is no compromising with that man. He is determined to bring this kingdom and all of its subjects to ruin, and he wishes for me to just stand back and watch. He does not hear a word I say,” he spat.

He swiped his sword at you, several times and in several different successions. Unable to keep up, you were not surprised when your sword was knocked from your hands. You did not flinch when the tip of his blade found your throat, confident that Peter would never hurt you. He pressed the tip further, eyes locked on yours, and you swallowed.

“Do you agree with him?”

“Of course not,” you honestly answered.

Peter lightly dragged his blade down your neck and towards the top of your dress, his eyes following its movement before he quickly snatched it away. He tilted his head at you, raising an eyebrow as he waited for you to continue.

“You know I do not agree with how your father runs this kingdom, but I have no say. I never did. Believe it or not, Peter, you have much more influence than I do.”

He turned away with a disbelieving laugh.

“Somehow, I doubt that…”

“Look, I am going to say something that I know you are not going to like,” you suddenly said.

Peter did not respond, so you continued.

“I think that you should consider marriage.”

You saw him straighten at that, back tense, and you rushed to say something else.

“If Tony feels that you are taking your future seriously, then he will be more inclined to take you seriously.”

He turned to you with a withering look, and you rolled your eyes.

“Do not look at me that way. I am not saying that you have to marry some poor girl right away, but at least make an effort to look around, and show Tony that you are attempting to meet him halfway,” you advised.

Peter gave you a hard stare for the longest time before eventually rolling his eyes and looking away.

“Very well. You always do get your way, don’t you, Y/N?”

Your mouth parted for a moment before you snapped it shut, looking down. This did not go unnoticed by Peter, and he neared you.

“What is it, now?”

Your eyes met his, and you tried to hide your hurt, but it must have been clear as day. Peter’s entire demeanor softened, and he stuck his sword in the dirt, reaching for you.

“What is it?”

You exhaled.

“That...is another thing I had hoped to discuss with you.”

He frowned in confusion.

“You still refer to me by my name…” you watched as his face fell. “And I do not wish to rush you, I never have, but when you say my name...it makes me feel as if I am doing something wrong here.”

“You are not,” he rushed to assure you. “Believe me…”

“I do not want to replace your mother, but if I am doing something-.”

“It is merely a force of habit. That is all,” he interrupted.

“You are sure…?”

“Positive,” he said with a small smile.

“...okay,” you said with a nod. “...and what will you be doing after this...?”

“I will be speaking with my father,” he reluctantly told you.

“Good,” you said, Peter bending to allow you to quickly peck his forehead. “...and please be polite. I hate the way you two provoke each other.”

He roughly exhaled.

“Yes...mother…,” he seemed to bite out, eyes on you.

You looked to him with wide eyes, heart swelling as your smile grew. You chuckled, kissing his forehead one last time before leaving him to finish his instruction.

Contrary to what you had hoped, your advice did not improve things. Now that Peter had agreed to at least looking for a wife, it just gave him and Tony one more thing to disagree on, and disagreements about the smallest of things only gave room for disagreements about more serious matters. Peter hated the way Tony ran the kingdom, and you could not fault him for that.

Meals were more tense than ever, and it soon became suffocating to be in the same room as father and son. You did your best to keep the peace between them but there was only so much you could do. Especially when the arguments would get so intense that you feared for them. Tony could get so angry, and while you had never known him to put his hands on Peter as he did you, it still worried you that he might one day. And Peter…

Sometimes Peter would get a look in his eye that chilled you to the bone. He would get so fed up with his father, lips pressed together as Tony tore into him, and you would see the younger man’s eyes flash with something you could not name. It was a look that terrified you and made him look like someone that was not Peter, at all.

Tensions only mounted as your birthday neared. You did not want either of them involved in the party planning process, convinced this would be the final nail in the coffin. Truth be told, it was also for yourself as well. It allowed you to breathe better.

“The party is tomorrow night, and Peter has yet to have the last fitting for his attire,” you told Mary Jane as you stood.

“I can finish this up, your majesty, while you go find Peter,” she replied.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely! I am almost finished, anyway.”

“Wonderful! I shall return shortly. There are only so many places he could be at this hour…”

The corridors were scarcely occupied as you decided to check Peter’s chambers first, making your way to his wing of the castle. You were unsurprised to find them empty, and you quickly made your way outside. He had a habit of frequenting the grounds, the maze especially, and you were confident that you would find him there then.

You had not been inside the maze for a while, but you remembered how to navigate it vividly. You were deep within it, somewhere in the middle perfectly between the beginning and the end when you stumbled upon a sight you were not prepared for.

At the other end of a long stretch, were a couple, far too wrapped up in each other to notice your presence. You felt your face heat up as you stumbled upon the lovers, and you were prepared to turn back when the young man lifted his head, familiar eyes meeting yours. A gasp escaped you, and you were frozen on the spot as Peter simply stared at you.

He did not break his gaze as he continued to thrust into the woman beneath him, who you absentmindedly recognized as Guinevere. Her eyes were closed, clinging to Peter as moans tumbled from her lips, and even though Peter was silent as he stared at you, the heat in his eyes was undeniable. Finally coming to your senses, you willed your feet to move, but you did not escape in time to miss the way Peter’s deep moan rang throughout the air.

Upon your return, you told Mary Jane that you were unable to find Peter. You did not want to think of the awkward encounter, and told yourself that the tailor had never been wrong before. You were positive that Peter’s attire would fit. You did not see the young man again until the following day, your birthday, and it was only an hour or so until your party. Tony was meeting with a few of his Lords when there was a knock on your chamber door.

You were quick to answer it, surprised to find Peter on the other side. You only felt uncomfortable for a moment before you took in his attire. You beamed, widening the door to allow him in.

“Oh, Peter, you look positively dashing!”

“Did you doubt that I would?” he smugly wondered.

You threw him a look.

“I swear, you are getting more and more like your father every day,” you told him with a chuckle.

“I got you something,” he suddenly said, and it was only then did you notice the box in his hand.

You blinked in surprise, eyes widening when he opened it to reveal the most beautiful necklace you had ever seen. The ruby heart in the middle was positively blinding, standing out against the rest of the diamonds that made up the band. You pressed your hand to your chest, mouth parting.

“Happy Birthday.”

“Oh my… Peter, this is so sweet of you,” you told him.

“Well,” he started, setting the box aside as he took the piece of jewelry into his hands. “It is not every day that one turns thirty-six.”

He motioned for you to spin around, and you obliged.

“This might also double as an apology for yesterday. I regret that you had to see that,” he chuckled.

You joined him, waving him off.

“Nonsense, Peter. It was a bit of a shock, but nothing more. You are a young man, after all, and I could never fault you for doing what young men do. You are treating Guinevere well, I hope? She is a sweet girl.”

Peter groaned.

“Yes, Y/N.”

Your heart sank at the sound of your name, and you frowned a bit.

“I am treating her just fine,” he assured you.

You chose not to comment on his use of your name, wondering if you had done something wrong.

“Would you ever consider marrying her?” you pushed.

Peter was quiet as he brought his hands over to lower the necklace at your neck. It was not one that rested at your décolletage, but at your throat instead, and your eyes widened a bit when he pulled it back. You reached up to your neck, forced to stumble back into his chest to keep from choking, relaxing a bit when he finally clasped it together.

“No,” was his simple answer. “It is not like that.”

He rested his hands on your shoulder, turning you around to admire you. His dark eyes took you in before finally focusing on the necklace, the corner of his lips lifting a bit. He pressed his finger to the ruby heart, drawing patterns over it before eventually stepping away.

“It looks great,” he told you.

“Thank you. We should track down your father before they start my own celebration without me,” you replied.

It was not long after that the three of you were entering the great hall, a smile on your face as everyone greeted you. Tony and Peter were at your sides, and both of their hands rested at the small of your back as they guided you to the royal table at the head of the room. Everyone only quieted down when you took your seats, and you looked down at the familiar faces with a smile.

Your attention was drawn to Peter as he stood, raising his glass as a servant came by to fill them. He only filled yours and Peters, but another quickly came to fill Tony’s. Once everyone’s glasses were filled, that was when Peter spoke.

“I would like to propose a toast…”

He turned to look down at you, dark eyes unreadable as he swallowed.

“...to the woman who loved me even when I did not deserve it.”

Your heart swelled as you smiled at Peter, so happy that you two had come this far.

“No one could ever replace my mother...and I would not want them to, but you, Y/N, you are the next best thing.”

Your eyes softened, realizing that while maybe Peter did not see you as something akin to a mother just yet, he still loved you, and that gave you hope. You could live with that for now. Peter’s eyes fell onto his father, and he suddenly smiled.

“...and to my father, the king. If it were not for you, Y/N would never have come into our lives.”

His voice was even, but his eyes glinted before he turned to the rest of the royal court, his glass held high.

“To the king and queen. Long may they reign,” his voice traveled over the room.

Everyone else repeated his words before taking a drink, you and Tony following suit. As you set your glass down, you watched, a bit concerned, as Peter swallowed all of his wine, a look of satisfaction on his face as he lowered his glass. You turned to Tony, prepared to ask him if he wished to say anything, just as he let out that first cough.

It sounded nasty, and you frowned, prepared to ask him if he drank too fast when he coughed again, blood staining his bottom lip. Your heart fell to your stomach, eyes widening as you reached for him, hands trembling. You were prepared to call for help when you noted the sound of several coughs reaching your ears, followed by screams.

When you turned towards the rest of the room, you saw every single one of the royal court coughing up blood, and you stood on unsteady legs as understanding dawned on you. You reached for Peter, your hand gripping his arm as fear and horror clung to you.

“P-Peter…”

You looked to him, but his face was stony as he looked down at everyone. The only people who were okay were you, Peter, the servants, and the few guards. You watched as Peter waved his hand, confusion filling you as two guards opened the door to let more in. You were frozen as they all drew their swords, stomach churning as you realized what was about to happen. You turned back to Peter, but he was already moving past you.

“Peter, what- what is happening? What are you doing?”

You lunged for him as he drew a dagger, hand fisted into his fathers hair to pull the struggling man’s head back.

“Peter, no!”

He shoved you away, right into the arms of a waiting guard, and you did not turn your head in time to miss the way he dragged the blade across his father’s neck. A scream left you, belonging to a voice that you did not recognize, and you continued to scream and cry as the guard backed up. Peter pointed at you, his father’s blood coating his hand, his face unrecognizable to you.

“Get her out of here…”

His eyes met yours, dark with a harmful intent that terrified you. Who was this man? He ran his eyes over you.

“...and do not let her get away.”

You fought against the guard as he dragged you away, kicking and screaming all the way. Your efforts did not even cease as you made it into the corridor, having been forced past the dead bodies of your friends and acquaintances. The guard towered over you and was easily double your size, so all of your efforts were useless.

He only let you go when you reached Peter’s chambers, dragging you through the receiving chamber to toss you onto the floor of his bedchamber. The impact made your head spin, and by the time you pushed yourself to your feet, he was already pulling the door shut. You slammed your hands against it just as you heard it lock, and another sob threatened to escape you.

You had only ever been in Peter’s room a handful of times, and you wrapped your arms around yourself as you looked around. Your chest hurt, heart breaking as you recalled the way Peter had so callously taken his father’s life. Your husband was dead, and it was no secret that the man was far from perfect, but his absence scared you. What would become of you now? Why did Peter not poison you like the rest? God, had his feelings never changed, at all? Had he still secretly hated you this whole time and wanted to get some sick satisfaction out of killing you here?

You lost count of how many times you tried the door before moving to the balcony doors. They too did not budge, and you kicked them in frustration. You could barely form a coherent thought, and more tears spilled over as you realized just how alone you were. You did not understand anything. Why would Peter do this?

As you heard someone enter his receiving chamber, it occurred to you that you might get your answer.

Your eyes met Peter’s as he entered his chambers, and you stumbled back, afraid to take your eyes off of him. You watched as he locked the door behind him, and the sight of that made your face crumble.

“What have you done?” you shakily asked.

The room was quiet save for your soft sobs, and you flinched when Peter took a step forward. He did not look like the young man you knew. He stood there in the dark attire he had picked out for your birthday, looking every bit like the murderous man you now knew him to be. A dark strand of hair kissed his forehead, jaw clenched as he eyed you. It started to lightly rain outside, and your eyes fell to the blood on his hands.

His father’s blood.

“Have you come to kill me too?”

Finally, his face shifted, and he frowned at you.

“Kill you?”

Peter scoffed, laughing to himself as he tilted his head at you.

“You could not be farther from the truth…”

“Then what do you plan to do? What are you doing, Peter? I do not understand…”

“My father was going to run this kingdom into the ground. We both know it…”

You started shaking your head before he was even done.

“Something had to be done.”

“Not like this! You killed him- you killed everyone,” you cried.

“...and here I thought you would be thanking me,” he sneered.

“Thanking you?”

“Unless I was wrong, and you enjoy being slapped around,” he threw at you.

You felt as if you were just slapped then, and you pressed your back into the wall, tightening your arms around yourself.

“Not like this, Peter. Not like this,” you tearfully murmured.

The rain got louder, filling the otherwise silent room with some noise, and you flinched when lightning flashed, shedding light on the room and on Peter’s dark gaze.

“What will become of me? Did you ever think about that? I am the widow of a murdered king. A king murdered by his own son in a coup!”

“...and the future wife of the next one,” Peter calmly stated.

You froze, his words failing to make sense despite the fact that you heard him just fine. Something about them did not sound right, and your lips parted, a shaky breath escaping you.

“What...what did you just say?” you hesitantly questioned.

Peter took another step towards you, and you slid along the wall...away from him.

“Do you have any idea how much it pained me to watch you with him?”

“Peter…”

You shook your head, still moving away as he moved closer.

“Do know what it was like to watch him mistreat you again and again only to turn around and reap the spoils of his marriage as if he had not just caused you harm only moments before?”

His voice was low, thick with something you were too disgusted to name. Your eyes were wide, filled with tears as the reality of the situation dawned on you. Peter’s feelings, his father’s murder...the two of you alone in a castle full of people that have proven their loyalty to him. Peter was only eighteen when you married the king, standing face to face with you, but now, eight years later, the young man towered over you.

He suddenly chuckled, and the sound terrified you more than anything now.

“I find it funny… My father was always telling me that royals take. We take what is ours. We take what we believe we should have. That is what we do, son,” he mocked. “We take.”

His cold eyes bore into yours as you stumbled away from him. In a circle the two of you went, and you pulled on the handle of the door as you pressed your back to it. Fresh tears spilled as it refused to budge.

“Now look. I have taken his life, I have taken his kingdom, and I have taken the woman he thought belonged to him-.”

He swallowed the rest of his words as you suddenly dived to the other side of the room. Peter followed, and you reached up to pull the portrait from the wall, tossing it at him only for Peter to evade it. You frantically crawled across the bed, kicking Peter in the chest as he reached for your ankle. You fell to your knees on the other side, running to the balcony doors with tears in your eyes.

Again, the doors would not budge, and you were prepared to throw yourself through the glass when Peter was suddenly there at your back. He enclosed you in his arms, and you reached back to fight against him and push him away, but he only pinned you between him and the glass. The sound of the thunder drowned out your screams, and you yelped in shock when he fisted a hand in your hair, yanking your head to the side.

Peter was determined to taste you, tongue and teeth brushing your skin as he ground himself against you. Nothing you did seemed to deter him, and it suddenly felt hard to breathe. The storm raged outside, wind pushing rain against the window. One of Peter’s hands dragged up your leg, pushing the skirts of your dress with it, and you slammed your hands against the window, attempting to push back.

This only egged him on, and he moaned in your ear.

“Peter, please,” you begged

You could feel the air against you, and your efforts to get away only increased when you felt him moving to release himself. The hand in your hair moved to your neck, cutting off your airway as he pulled your head back to rest against him. You struggled to breathe, nails scraping against the glass. He leaned down to cover your lips with his own, kissing you for the first time, and you sharply inhaled.

He moaned at the taste of you, his tongue meeting yours, tasting the wine that you wish had killed you too. You both struggled against the window, your hands turning into fists when he pushed his leg between yours, quickly followed by the other. You turned your head away, your small victory overshadowed by your ultimate defeat as he thrust into you. You yelped just as Peter shuddered against your back, a long sigh escaping him as he pressed a hand into the glass beside your head.

He pressed his face into your hair, grinding against you, the sound of him breathing you in reaching your ears. Your own forehead was pressed to the glass now, tearful eyes taking in the storm as Peter dragged his cock in and out of your unwilling core. Your body shook from both your sobs and his ministrations, and again, you pushed against the glass in hopes to push him away.

He merely shoved his chest into your back, forcing you back against the glass before wrapping his arms around you again. One hand pulled at the neckline of your dress, ripping it straight down, and your lashes fluttered when he slipped his hand beneath the fabric to roll his fingers over you. His other arm came across your middle, pinning your own at your sides.

“You are finally mine,” he breathed after a while.

You shook your head in denial, another lightning strike bathing the room in a glow. It was gone as quickly as it came, and you were forced to focus on Peter’s reflection in the window. He was lost in the euphoria of you, the feel of you wrapped around him, sucking him back in again and again.

“Finally,” he groaned. “At my side and in my bed as my queen…”

His hand slipped from beneath the torn fabric of your dress, dancing along your skin before his fingers brushed over the diamond choker at your neck.

“I have all night to claim you as mine, and no one is around to stop me.”

“Peter, this is not you-.”

“Oh, but it is,” he sighed. “This is the man you loved when he did not deserve it. This is the man you will marry, bear children with…’

You let out a choked sob, fresh tears falling at his words.

“Oh, please. Everyone knew that my father was the problem. He was the only one in denial about it, and I have a feeling that by the time I am done with you, you shall be with child by tomorrow.”

“Peter, please,” you screamed.

His hand tightened on your throat, pulling your head back so you were forced to stare at the ceiling, back arched to take his slow and purposeful thrusts. He kissed the corner of your eye before doing the same to your cheek. His breathing was choppy, heart pounding in his chest, and the way his hips stuttered told you that he was close.

“Oh God,” he moaned, stilling against your back as he spilled himself into you.

You froze against him at the feel, realizing that there was no turning back. You shook in his hold, feeling the urge to be sick when he suddenly pulled out of you, replacing his cock with his fingers. You gasped, reaching down to grab his wrist as he shoved a second finger inside of you, the wet sound of it reaching your ears even with the rain outside. He pressed you to his chest as he curled his fingers into you.

You bucked your hips, ashamed with your actions as he pulled pleasure from you like it was nothing. LIke he somehow knew your body better than you did. His lips were at your ear, brushing against your skin before he trailed them to your neck again, pressing kisses there. Your nails dug into his wrist, but he paid your efforts no mind as he thrust his fingers into you, setting a pace that had your legs shaking. You knew that if it were not for his hold, you would have collapsed already.

Peter hummed when your breath hitched.

“You are close...aren’t you?”

“Peter...stop,” you shakily begged.

“I shall stop when I feel your arousal dripping down my hand,” he purred.

His words had you clenching around him, and he moaned against your neck.

“I suppose I cannot blame my father for being so possessive of you. Your walls feel like heaven…”

“Peter…”

“I do not know how I will ever allow you to leave our bed-.”

“Peter-.”

“I guess I shall just have to keep you tired…”

“Please-!”

“Come for me, Y/N. Fall apart for your king,” he whispered.

And you did. You seized in his arms, walls clenching around him, your arousal coating his fingers and dripping down his hand. Your nails drew blood, but he only moaned with you, cursing as you rode yourself on his fingers, your other hand reaching back to twist into his shirt. That was the hardest you ever came, and shame filled you. As you came down from your high, Peter lowered the both of you to the floor.

It was only then did you notice the bloody handprints on the glass. The same blood on you, no doubt. More tears sprung forth as it all seemed to hit you, and Peter forced your head onto his shoulder as he shushed you. You obliged, and he leaned down to press his lips to your forehead, rocking you as you sobbed in his tightening arms.

tags: @xoxabs88xox @harryspet @readermia @opheliadawnwalker3 @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi @lokislastlove @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin @hyoyeoniie @cocoamoonmalfoy @mandiiblanche @gotnofucks @oneoftheprettynerds @doozywoozy @mcudarklibrary @melli0112 @buckybarnesplumwhore @dramaholic18

#dark peter parker #dark!peter parker #dark!peter x reader #peter parker x reader #ROYAL AU #prince peter parker #dark fic

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angstama · 3 years

Text

god knows you tried | manjiro (mikey) sano

pairing: bonten!mikey x reader

genre: angst

warnings: heartbreak, attempt suicide(?), original characters/manga plot (pls do not read if you haven’t read the manga D: ), mentions of religion, implied sex (no smut ok!)

summary: god knows you tried your best. if only mikey knew how hard you’re trying too then perhaps this love wouldn’t hurt as much as you thought.

words: 1823 words

a/n: i think this sucks but... i hope you enjoy it! <3

god knows you tried.

you watched the ex-toman boys eagerly catching up with takemichi quietly, hands resting against your chin as you took in the rare sight in front of you with a sad smile etched on your lips. this was the happy ending that mikey had sacrificed for everyone but himself.

“a penny for your thoughts?” mitsuya asks, plopping down next you on to the stone steps. that’s right, it’s june 19th 2018, toman’s formation day anniversary and everyone had gathered around to re-open the time capsule from twelve years ago. “hm? nothing much. just missing a particular someone.” you hummed, dragging your fingers across the ground to draw a heart. mitsuya nods understandingly, knowing not to pry any deeper anymore and for that, you’re thankful.

crouching down, you hesitantly picked up the the blue coloured envelope you left behind twelve years ago. unsure if you’d wanna read the contents of the letter your naive self written back then. with a deep breath, you slipped open the cover. revealing a photo of candid photo of you and mikey leaning on each other asleep with your mouths wide open taken by emma.

dearest y/n,

i wonder what you’re doing right now?

are you perhaps finally studying in film?

has that idiot manjiro finally proposed to you?

or are you the one who proposed to him?

“y/n, you’ll be with me for a long time right?” mikey asked, staring at the very sky that you both loved oh so very much with your hands intertwined. having grown up with each other since young had pretty much given you both the illusion that the two of you will always be a part of each other’s world. and you hoped with every inch of your heart that mikey wants it to be that way forever. “of course. you’re my heaven and home mikey. i wouldn’t go anywhere else without you by my side.” you squeezed his hand in assurance, knowing that at this very moment, mikey was at his most truthful and vulnerable self with you.

whatever it is, i hope that you’re living the happy life with him that you’ve been dreaming of.

signing off,

toman’s honorary member, y/n l/n.

everyone was silent. even hakkai who had been making fun of everyone’s letter kept quiet. the boys knew how much you loved and you still love mikey. each opting to give you the concerned and sympathetic look. you could feel you heart breaking even more for you knew you weren’t doing anything that you had hoped for back then.

you felt mitsuya’s comforting hand softly grabbing onto yours. “well that’s depressing,” you chuckled softly, wanting to get rid of the awkward tension in the air as soon as possible. “let’s grab some ramen, i’m starving.” and with that, you let your feet drag you away from the heavy atmosphere with your head hung low.

perhaps the hurt wouldn't be as painful if you weren’t the only one who knew what kind of path mikey had chosen to go down. you see, when mikey turned his back against all his closest friend, you had the privilege of staying as his only constant thanks to your stubborn nature but even with that, you weren’t enough to keep him away from his dark impulses. mikey chose the path to destruction and the only thing that you could do was watch from the sidelines and be there when he shows up at wee hours of the night to borrow your body. but you didn't mind. it was during these most intimate moments with mikey that you finally get to feel a piece of him again when he spews the words of “i love you” so effortlessly.

god knows that you tried.

“mikey those aren’t good for you.” you frowned, snatching the capsule away from his hand seconds before he could flush it down his system. “what the fuck y/n?” the angered male snaps. you felt yourself falling and back colliding against the hard ground. opening your eyes, you see mikey pining you down with nothing but void darkness in his eyes. “i’ll fucking kill you if you do it again.” mikey taunts, he was serious and you know it.

“then kill me mikey.” the words slipped out of your tongue instantly. you were tired. tired of trying. you don't know what else can you possibly do to help mikey anymore. mikey says nothing but got off you. he dusted himself and without sparing you single glance, he showed you his back again, walking out of the door where sanzu was already holding open for him. “get her home.” you heard him say.

it’s been a week since you guys opened the time capsule. nothing much had happened since then except you’ve been spending more time with hina considering how she’s often over to mitsuya’s studio for gown fitting. you admired and envy her love story with takemichi. but who were you to complain? you were lucky enough that mikey still wanted you around. so it shouldn’t hurt so much when you sae her adorning the beautiful wedding gown that mitsuya had spent months on tailoring.

you let out a tired yawn, stretching your arms above your head as you finished touching up the last few bits of editing on your laptop. you looked over at the calendar on your table, a pink heart circled over today’s date and smiled. “mitsuya, i’m gonna knock off first okay?” you announced, tidying up your table and reaching out for the bag of the familiar favourite deserts of a certain male.

mitsuya nods, “thank you for your hard work y/n”. he flashes you a smile, eye slowly trailing to the white plastic bag dangling from your side as you waved goodbye, back facing him and walking away. “you’re going to see him aren't you?” you stopped in your tracks. “i know he never left you. plus you got a bag filled with dorayakis and taiyakis. that’s pretty obvious.” mitsuya chuckles. you always knew mitsuya to be perceptive but it never once occured to you that your best friend who is also your boss would ever catch on to the secret you’ve been hiding for twelve years.

“how did yo-”

“be careful y/n.” mitsuya waves you off, going back to whatever he was doing. a fond smile creeps onto your lips as you watched mitsuya working hard. “thank you mitsuya. for everything. really,” you whispered, but loud enough for the dual dyed coloured hair boy to look up again when you walked away.

you made your way towards the secluded vip section of the club through swarms of body swaying around you until you saw the familiar tall pink haired male standing outside the golden door.

“hey sanzu,” you greeted, barely audible over the loud booming music. you were about to push the door open when sanzu towers over you immediately, denying you of your entrance. you looked at sanzu in confusion, “it’s me, y/n. i’m here to see mikey.” you said loudly, voice straining to over power the background noise. “ i know. but mikey will not be seeing anyone right now.” he retorts back.

surely mikey knew that you were visiting tonight right? after all it’s your anniversary date. you tilted your head at sanzu. not fully understanding what he’s saying. to say that you’re feeling absolutely livid would be an understatement right now. you’re too tired, angry and broken hearted to process anything anymore so you exploded. you only wanted to see your boyfriend. was that a very difficult request?

“sanzu,” you said lowly, eyes staring blankly into his and as if on cue, you brought your knees to his precious manhood before making another high kick at him, bringing him down. it was a technique that mikey had taught you when you were younger and attending martial arts lesson together with baji. god you missed baji so much.

“y/n because you’re short, you can do this instead.” mikey suggested smugly, kneeing poor baji’s little friend before swinging his legs much more harder than he intended to at baji’s profile when he bent forward. the main point was to get your opponent to lean forward so that your legs could reach high enough to create an impact on their skull. you eyes lit up in excitement, “wow! that’s so cool! let me try it!” you jumped impatiently. turning towards mikey to execute the exact same move. “wait n-! AHH,” mikey’s eyes widened, and before he knew it, you had completely knocked him over.

that day, as mikey and baji lied down with pain still intact barely moving an inch, shinchiro only gave you a thumbs up and praised you for taking down the invincible mikey. you were the only one who could do that.

“sanzu, i’ll see my boyfriend as and when i’d like to.” you said curtly, eyeing sending daggers at him lying on the ground before stepping over him to swing the door open, revealing your petite self to the other bonten’s executives and hostess who were staring at you in surprise.

you don’t see anyone else but your lover who’s currently sitting in the center with two pretty hostess sitting by his side. you don’t hesitate and begun walking towards him. “get your hands off my man.” you said calmly. there was tension in the air and from the corner of your eyes, you could see the executives slowly getting up to leave as if on cue.

“aren’t you as stubborn as always,” he raises a brow as you settled down next to him, pouring the bag of dessert on the glass table in front of you. you smile softly, grabbing a packet of taiyaki and handing it to him before grabbing one for yourself too. “happy 14th anniversary mikey.” you mumbled softly before grabbing a bite. 14 years, that was how long you two had been together for. “mhm. happy 14th anniversary y/n.” mikey hums, allowing you lean in close to him and resting your head on his chest.

you take in the scent of mikey for you knew that this is going to be the last time you’re going to be able to hold mikey close to you. you didn't want this moment to end but you were too tired to continue on and see what's going to happen the next when you go back to just another normal day. you held tightly to the gun you hid in your bag, shutting your eyes tightly.

“hey mikey,” you called out. you never thought you’d see it again but you saw a flash of endearment in his eyes when you called him. “i love you so much, promise you’ll take care of yourself alright?” you smiled warmly before pulling the gun out of your bag and putting it against your head.

god knows you tried.

god knows you did your best and now you’re going home.

bang!

#tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers #mikey x you #mikey sano #mitsuya takashi #toman #chifuyu matsuno #mikey x y/n #fanfic

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hanjizung · 3 years

Text

♡ What Love Is ♡

Han Jisung x Reader.

Word count: 10K

♡ Warnings ♡: Smut; non idol AU, DILF!Jisung, older Jisung, OC (kid), possession kink, marking kink, oral (f), overstimulation, begging, masturbation, shower sex, exhibitionism, fingering, creampie, aftercare.

A/N: Finally the second part to Modern Vintage is here. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, and please let me know what you think of it! ♡

Summer coming closer could mean many things; families spent more time together since children weren’t going to school anymore, couples had more dates and groups of friends went to eat from time to time to catch up. Overall, most places were fuller during summer, especially beaches since the sun was incredibly hot. You knew some people loved to go out in summer, maybe to travel or to visit some relatives.

Even knowing how summer as a customer was, working in the coffee shop during the season was another experience, some days it was too empty, then on the weekends too full and some days you didn’t even have enough time to eat. Adding to the stress of working during this season, but luckily, summer was just about to end and since you decided to take summer classes to fasten your graduation and get your degree sooner, you were almost completely over which meant that you would be able find a better place to work and help Jisung pay the bills.

A smile appeared on your face when you thought of him. The two of you had been together for almost a little over a year now; he stopped working in the coffee shop with you after his best friends from college offered him an opportunity to work with them as a producer in their company, that had been a month after the weekend the two of you spent without Jisu, both of them showed up at his night job, (which you learned, he worked at a nightclub as a DJ and he was really awesome at it) asking him to take a moment and go with them for a talk. The next morning you found him drinking coffee in the kitchen, still thinking of accepting or declining, smiling and kissing you when you encouraged him to take the offer.

Since then, he told Minho and Felix about it, and they congratulated him and told him that he would still get the employee discounts whenever he stopped by to visit them (and you, of course.) The Lee brothers, more than being your bosses, they treated the two of you like good friends and worried about you like they were family. You still remember Felix’s face when he saw you kissing Jisung goodbye while Jisu hugged her dad tightly, a grin on Felix’s lips that made him look like a mischievous cat.

“Didn’t I tell you it would be only a matter of time?” he said, startling both Jisung and you, making you turn to look at him laughing, a slight blush coloring your cheeks.

“Felix, you knew we would end up together since he brought Jisu here” you objected, rolling your eyes playfully. “What kind of witchcraft did you do, hmm? Tell me your secret!” you joked, getting closer to him and hugging him lovingly. He hugged you back and patted your hair as if you were Jisu.

“I have eyes, Y/N. I could see the both of you drooling for each other when you worked the same hours” he explained, his brows raised as he turned from you to Jisung, who just like you had his face painted with a blush.

“Oh” Jisung said, scratching the back of his head with his free arm and laughing awkwardly. “I mean, you’re not wrong, Lix. I liked Y/N since the very first time I saw her mess up a drink” your boyfriend said, winking at you.

“Are you saying that messing drinks is the way to get to your heart, Sungie?” you asked, acting as serious as you could, “because if that’s the case, I won’t let you be in the kitchen when I’m teaching Jeongin how to do the difficult ones” you finished, making both of the men in front of you laugh.

“Ah, he doesn’t mess up as much though, I admit Jisung used to be messier than him. Jeongin’s a good boy, he learns quickly like you, Y/N. I’m glad that we hired him, I feel like the place is fuller since he’s been here” Felix said, crossing his arms over his chest and caressing his invisible beard as he looked at Jeongin who was writing down an order.

He noticed the four pairs of eyes on him and waved to where you were awkwardly. Minho had announced not too long ago that since the coffee shop had been doing better than before now you were short staffed, and since he was planning on giving you a little vacation he made the decision of hiring someone else to help, and that's how you ended up meeting sweet Jeongin, whose cute face contributed to more daily customers as well as Felix's delicious baked desserts.

Since you were the last person hired, it was your job to teach him everything you knew. He had been there for just three weeks now, and he was a little shy just like you were when you first started working there, but as days passed he joined the talented chefs that you had for bosses and started teasing you and Jisung every now and then.

The coffee shop never closed, it was open all the seven days of the week, but when Jisung was offered a new spot with his good friends, you decided to throw a party to celebrate, inviting the Lee's and Jeongin, and of course, Jisu's uncles; Chan and Changbin. You also took the opportunity to invite your ex roommate, who happened to visit you at work and the one who you would constantly text when something interesting happened. Jisung said that since the party would be the first time you'd be meeting his best friends, and since he already knew your roommate that you should invite your best friend from college, so after calling him and asking him if he was free he accepted.

The big important day came, and Jisung dressed with his nicest clothes, putting on that one cologne he knew you loved so much. The party would happen at your department, so when he was ready he announced that he would be rushing to get the missing food before all your guests appeared, leaving you and Jisu to finish getting ready.

You helped her get ready first, dressing her with a beautiful navy blue dress that she adored since the moment she saw it, then you did her hair and told her to draw something to everyone coming to the party while you got ready as well.

When you walked out of the room fully dressed, Jisung and Jeongin's back were turned at you. They were talking on the couch, a movie was playing on the turned on television as they talked without paying any attention to the screen, but the conversation soon died when your boyfriend stood up after hearing footsteps behind him. He stared at you, his mouth hanging and a quiet wow leaving his lips as he moved quickly to embrace you and kiss you, ready to whisper how beautiful you looked and how lucky he was to have you.

"Woah, you look so pretty! You look like a queen, queen Y/N!" Jisu exclaimed, joining her dad and running to hug your legs. Jeongin saw the whole scene, chuckling.

"You look amazing, Y/N. Honestly, if you and Jisung weren't together I would be inviting you for a drink as soon as I saw you" he joked, raising one of his eyebrows making you laugh.

"Guess that's too bad for you then, Jeonginnie, she's all mine" Jisung said, pressing a kiss on your cheek and then leaving your side to sit on the couch again.

Jisu left you to go sit on her dad's lap, and when you were just to sit on the other couch your phone rang, your best friend's photo showing on the screen as you smiled apologetic at the two men in front of you and you walked away to answer.

"Hi, Y/N. I'm in the building, what floor is it?" his voice greeted you. He was always like this, going straight to the point.

"The fifth floor, the door number is 190" you told him, hearing through the line how he walked into the elevator and pressed the buttons. "See you soon" you told each other before hanging up.

You were excited to see him, it wasn't everyday that the two of you got to be at a nice event or even to a party like this, he wasn't a party guy much, and you always went out with your beloved roommate, Chunghee.

You walked to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and when you were coming back to the living room you heard knocking on the door. Smiling and placing your glass down, you walked excitedly to it and opened with a big smile on your lips, already knowing who it was.

"Seungmin!" you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him carefully and hugging him tightly. He responded to the hug politely, patting your back two times and then separating his arms from you, a little shy since it was the first time he was in the presence of your boyfriend. You moved away from him to let him step inside, taking his hand in yours and closing the door behind you.

"Jisung, Jisu, Jeongin, I present to you my best friend! Seungmin, you already met Jeongin, and this…" you left Seungmin's side to stand behind Jisung who still had Jisu in his lap, they looked at your friend with the same eyes full of curiosity "... Is my family" you finished, smiling at him, your head tilted to the side as you locked eyes with Jisung for a brief moment before returning your eyes to your best friend.

"It's nice to meet you in person and not just thought pictures" Seungmin greeted, a timid smile on his lips that gained a chuckle from Jisung who responded that it was nice to see him as well, and so you proceeded to sit with Seungmin by your side and start a small conversation with him.

The room fell silent for a few seconds, the TV working as background noise only until a knock on your door and voices sounding from behind it let you know that Felix and Minho had finally arrived. Jisu opened the door, rushing to get there first and throw herself at the first pair of legs that would be in front of her, making Minho laugh as he struggled to hold a box of something in his hands without it falling. Felix rushed to help his brother by freeing him from the kid's grip, taking Jisu in his arms and squishing her playfully.

"Hey, welcome!" Jisung greeted, standing up from the couch along with Jeongin to help the two men with the things they were carrying; a cake and something that looked like it was probably ice cream. One of Felix's new experiments, possibly, but you figured that if he had brought it on that special day, it would be an advanced approved recipe.

"We're so happy to be here, I can't wait to meet Jisung's new bosses. Are they here yet? Are they more handsome than us? Y/N?" Felix asked, lifting Jisu in the air dramatically, making her giggle and turning to you when he was saying the last part, his accusative eyes scanning you.

"They haven't arrived yet, we'll meet them at the same time, Lix" you laughed, standing up yourself and hugging Minho first, then him. He smiled at you, and then noticed Seungmin who was still sitting where you were, his extroverted self wasted no time and he made his way there, dragging you along with him.

"Hello, we haven't been introduced yet, I think? If you've heard nice things about a Lee Felix then that's me, but if all you've heard of him are complaints, then it's not me anymore" he joked, presenting his hand to your best friend who laughed politely at his joke.

"Kim Seungmin, Y/N's friend" he shook Felix's hand and then patted Jisu’s head since she was still in Felix’s arms, offering both of them shy smile along with it. It was so heartwarming to have all your friends and family interacting with each other.

A phone going off distracted you and everyone in the room turned to meet the owner who simply smiled shyly, turning his back and answering. You could hear Jisung’s voice through the introductions of the people who were currently in your house. You watched all of them with a fond smile, but the sudden sensation of an arm wrapping around your waist scared you a little bit, making you turn your face to find your beloved boyfriend who placed a kiss on your cheek, whispering to you that he would be leaving shortly to get his friends.

You nodded and sat next to Minho on the couch, he was on his phone until he noticed you, straightening his back and smiling briefly at you. He asked how you were doing and how you were feeling about Jisung’s new path, you said that you felt happy for him and that your current concern was that you wanted to graduate to help; your conversation with him finished rather quickly, as the door opened and two strange men walked in through the door, the subject of your conversation with Minho staying behind them and closing the door.

“Everyone, they are my friends and now coworkers, Chan and Changbin,” Jisung announced, taking advantage of the silence that reigned on your little home to present his best friends, a intimidating looking man almost his height with a deadly gaze and a slightly taller one, blond guy who was smiling openly and showing his dimples.

Jisung stepped forward, a big smile on his face as his hand took yours and pulled you in front of his friends. You weren’t sure why, but your face started feeling a bit hot and you were a little afraid that if you tried to speak, you would stutter instead of speaking properly. To you it almost felt like you were meeting his parents, your nerves getting the best of you.

“Guys this is Y/N, you already know her a little from what I’ve told you” he laughed, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment, his cheeks also a rosy color just like yours were.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you!” the blond one said, offering you his hand for you to take. You did, extending your shaky hand to him and shaking it, then doing the same with Changbin.

Your ray of sunshine boyfriend must’ve felt the awkwardness you were irradiating, since he wasted no time in coming to your rescue and started presenting everyone else to them, except Jisu who left Felix to hug Changbin and tell him to pick her up so she could kiss his cheek. While he was busy with introductions, Seungmin approached you quietly, looking at you with a soft smile.

“You okay?” he asked, bumping your shoulder with his own. You looked at him with questioning eyes that only made him chuckle at you. “You looked like you were very nervous,” he explained.

Closing your eyes, you sighed. “I was! It felt like a meteor hit me, but instead of a space rock, it was reality” you whispered-screamed, looking at your friend with big eyes that soon turned soft when your gaze fell on them. “They seem really nice, though. I’m glad to know that Jisung wasn’t all alone before I met him, you know?”

“You really do love him, Y/N. I’m glad he makes you this happy” Seungmin smiled at you, his voice full of honesty that made you feel like you had the key to happiness in that exact moment.

The rest of the evening passed faster than you would like to admit; your little home was full with the chattering noises from your guests and chill music playing in the background. The dinner went good too, the table was full and it was like a Christmas dinner or similar, the table full and laughter being a constant proof of the nice atmosphere. Any sign of the existing awkward silence created when Chan and Changbin appeared was long gone now, and you learned a little more about them and how they met with Jisung just like they learned how the two of you ended up together, a story told with additions from almost everyone saying that they always knew how hard you were pining for each other.

Chan started telling how he happened to meet both of his friends; he explained that he met Changbin one night at a party, Chan was the dj and Changbin reached to him to ask him how he managed a cut between two song without it being so obvious (Changbin laughed, exclaiming that even if Chan taught him how to do it, he remembered how the first time he heard it he was shocked.)

Then, both of them usually hung out by the library where Chan mentored Changbin, and one day they saw Jisung with a guitar practicing and decided to ask him what he was doing. Since that day, the three of them started getting curious about song producing, and so they decided to give it a try, being that and their first demo songs the start of a beautiful blooming friendship that lead to where they are now.

When Chan mentioned their demo songs, you gave Jisung a side eye that clearly translated to him as ‘you’re gonna have to show me those songs’, a look that didn’t Changbin must’ve also caught since he said that those songs weren’t too good and that ‘it was better for everyone to not listen to them’, now making everyone want to listen to them more.

Later, Felix went to your fridge to take the ice cream he had brought and started serving it to everyone with your help. Little Jisu was over the moon because she was finally going to try one of the secret recipes of ice creams that she saw Felix perfecting at the coffee shop, and so more memories were talked upon all of you, not only about the trio of friends, but also about Seungmin and you being childhood friends, then the Lee brothers motivated by Chan’s story decided to tell how they knew they wanted to open the coffee shop. Jeongin opened up too, talking about how he had a lot of doubt joining his current career, but saying that he knew everything would eventually pay off. The evening contributed to you getting to know everyone a little more.

Almost at 10, Jisu was sleepily sitting on Changbin’s lap, you were surprised to see how much she stayed by his side and how the man didn’t seem to mind being with her, it was a little funny too because he seemed to be so tough on the outside, but really all he allowed to see in the few hours he spent in your house he was a softy, and Jisu really knew how to bring that side out of him. When you noticed the little bubbly girl was asleep, you stood up and walked to where he was, but when he realized that Jisu was comfortably dreaming, he stopped you.

“I’ll take her to her room, where is it?” he asked. You smiled at him as a thanks and guided him there, leaving the noisy living room to Jisu’s dark and silent bedroom.

You turned on the light for Changbin who was right behind you, and you watched him tuck her in the bed so carefully, like he had done it before. Curiosity got the best of you and you decided to ask him.

“Have you put her to bed before?” your voice came a little quiet, careful to not wake Jisu. Changbin hummed, looking at the sleeping angel in front of him and nodded.

“Yeah, when her mom left, Chan and I were all Jisung had, but we couldn’t help him often, and then we were called with an offer in America and we left.” You listened to him while he was staring at Jisu, your mind imagining these three men trying to take care of a baby, sweet scenarios playing in your head of them learning how to change a diaper and getting scared whenever she cried. “Let’s go back,” his voice brought you down to earth, and he waited for you to step out before turning off the light and closing the door behind him, like a gentleman.

Seeing you walking out of Jisu’s room, your boyfriend watched as you approached the living room with a smile on his face, and when you were close enough he opened his arms for you to take a seat on his lap. You happily did what he desired, kissing his cheek when he wrapped his arms around you. No one in the room was looking at you, too busy paying attention to a horror story Minho was saying from when he was in college to mind the two of you.

Jeongin was sitting by the table, a piece of cake in front of him that he was eating until he was interrupted thanks to a notification on his phone. When he grabbed it, he saw the hour and he stood up.

“I didn’t know it was this late, I should be leaving, my roommate texted me saying he’s worried” he explained, being the center of attention. On the other couch, Seungmin stretched and stood up as well.

“I can take you home if you want,” Seungmin said, looking in his pocket for his car keys while he waited for Jeongin’s answer. The younger one nodded and added that it would be nice of him to drop him by his apartment.

“Thank you guys for coming, have a good night” you told them when they waved goodbye to everyone.

“Thanks for receiving us. Congratulations on your new job, Jisung” Seungmin spoke again, shaking Jisung’s hand while Jeongin hugged you and thanked you as well.

After them, Felix yawned and Minho teased him, saying that he was just like Jisu, to which Felix laughed and said that he could be right. They made their way to the front door and said their goodbyes to the rest of you, and that resulted in just you and the producers. Jisung offered to drive them to their new shared apartment.

That’s how you found yourself in the co-pilot's seat with Chan and Changbin sitting in the back giving directions to Jisung who was driving. It reminded you of the first time you got in the car with him and took care of Jisu, then you smiled when your memory replayed all the times you sat there talking with Jisung and admiring him while he drove, he always looked for your hand or rested his on your thigh during red lights.

While Chan was giving directions to Jisung, Changbin chatted a little with you, telling you that he wasn’t too excited to go to his new house because there was a pure mess of boxes and half unpacked stuff everywhere except for their beds.

“I forgot how much I disliked moving,” Chan sighed, eyes closed as he paid close attention to the window. Changbin agreed with him.

Once you were finally there, you saw them coming out of the car. You took Jisung’s hand and with a look you told him to stay there. “We should help them, Sung,” you said. He nodded, knowing that you would be worried if you didn’t voice your kind offer to help your new friends.

“Chan, Changbin, would you like some help unpacking?” Jisung said, helping you out of the car. They were standing nearby, waiting for you two to leave and being surprised when Jisung hurried to open your door.

“Nah, it’s okay. You should go back home, though, it’s pretty late,” Changbin answered after exchanging a quick look with Chan who looked at his phone, probably to check the hour.

“We got this, don’t worry. Thanks for driving us,” Chan contributed, watching Jisung walking slowly to the driver’s seat again. “See you on Monday, Jisung, and see you later Y/N, it was very nice to meet you” he smiled.

“Alright, but make sure to call us if you need anything. See you on Monday” and with that, Jisung started the car and you left. You had no idea when on the way back you fell asleep, but the next time you opened your eyes, the car was slowing down and you could recognize the familiarity of your building’s parking.

“We’re home, baby, wake up” Jisung’s sweet voice called you. You blinked one, two times before sighing and taking off the security belt, stepping out of the car and stretching. You waited for him to do the same and walk together to your department.

“Your friends are really nice, I’m happy you’re gonna work with them. Are you excited?” you asked once in the elevator, looking at him.

“Yeah, I’m excited. It’s been so long since we made a song together or shared ideas for lyrics,” he said, smiling at you and hugging you, pressing a kiss on your face. You closed your eyes, accepting it without saying anything and just enjoying the moment. It was small moments like this when you were glad to start working at the coffee shop.

The elevator stopped at your floor, and the two of you made your way to your comfy apartment. You sighed, knowing that you would have to clean and put away everything that was on the table. When the door opened you finally took off the heels you opted to wear for the occasion, sighing in satisfaction when your feet touched the cold ground. Jisung only looked at you with a soft smile on his face, and he walked up behind you, passing one of his arms under your knees and picking you up bridal style.

“Sungie! What are you doing?” you squealed, acting quickly and holding onto him, afraid that you would fall. Your boyfriend didn’t answer you, instead he smirked at you and kept walking to your room. Once in there, he somehow managed to turn on the light before letting you gently on the bed.

Hovering above you, you were able to see the lust in his eyes before he closed them and finally kissed your lips passionately. Your hands, still on his neck, pulled him even closer to you. You sighed on the kiss, moving one of your hands to his chest and the other tangling in his hair. Jisung took this as an invitation to straddle you, supporting himself with one arm and caressing your face with the other hand.

Soon, the intensity of the kiss ended when he separated to breathe again, pressing kisses on your chin and then travelling down your throat.

“This dress looks so good on you, honey, but I prefer how you look without it. I’ve been thinking about it all day, taking it off you. I’m so lucky that I’m the only one to get to see you like this” he whispered, his voice husky, making you shiver.

It wasn’t the first time he attacked you like this; it was mostly on special occasions, and usually he asked someone to take care of Jisu, the other times you two had sex it was very late into the night and rather quickly to avoid the exposure to accidents, so him suddenly acting guided by his instincs and fucking you like it was only the two of you in the whole world was one of the last ways you imagined today would end.

“W-wait, Jisung, close the door first” you warned him, pushing him off you. He quickly nodded, making his way to the door and closing it, also locking it and then, he walked slowly towards you who was now sitting on the bed, looking at him with needy eyes.

His hands went to his belt, slowly undoing it making you bite your lip. He took it off and let it rest at the feet of the bed, now taking his shirt and starting to pull it up until he was in front of you, finally taking that piece of clothing off from his body. Your legs hung open, allowing him to stand between them as one of your hands played with the hem of his pants, you looked at him through your lashes and he placed one hand on your head, patting you dearly before it went down to cup your face and he bended to kiss you, this time more sweetly than before.

He pushed you gently so you would be on your back, he kissed the exposed skin on your neck, being careful to not leave any hickies since he knew how much you struggled to cover them when you had to go out, he was always mindful of you, unless he wanted to show off that you belonged to him, then he would mark up your neck so prettily for everyone to see.

He kneeled on the floor, his nose on your thigh sensually caressing you all the way to your right knee, his hands hiking up the skirt of your beautiful dress and then resting now on your hips, exposing your undergarment. Then, one of his hands moved to hold the back of your thigh to put your leg on his shoulder.

Since the moment he kneeled down on the floor, your mind played images of the countless times Jisung's face was hidden between your legs making you crazy, allowing you to see stars when his magical tongue brought you over the edge. It was inevitable to contain yourself, your pussy getting wet since he started pressing kisses on your legs, torturing preparing you for the orgasm he would soon bring you.

A sigh escaped your lips as you let yourself enjoy the moment, he was holding your other leg open with his hand, allowing him full entrance to your now ruined panties. You were lucky you decided to match the pretty dress with your favorite set of lingerie. He hummed in approval when he saw your wetness.

He had you whimpering lowly, you knew you had to keep quiet but as time passed and Jisung decided to admire and tease you instead of doing something to you, you were starting to grow a little impatient.

"Babe…" you cried out, looking at him with pleading eyes "I need you," but he didn't seem like he wanted to pay attention to your cries.

"You need me? Why, baby? What do you need me for?" he answered, his deep voice making you close your eyes and his words provoking a slight blush on your face.

"I'm so wet for you, please…" you said. It was an obvious answer since he could see the mess he made of you. "Want you to eat me out, please…"

His fingers passed through your needy sex, making you sigh one more time. He grunted, but instead of moving your delicate panties to the side, his face got closer and he pressed a sweet kiss on your mound. When he was done teasing you, he moved away and finally started taking off that piece of lingerie, removing your leg from his shoulder and placing it there again once he had freed you from it.

His lips came in contact with your throbbing cunt, making you groan in satisfaction when his tongue skillfully, dragging it from the center of your wetness, taking a sweet moment to taste you and then going for his objective, his arms around your legs to keep you in place for him to torture you oh so deliciously.

You cursed, eyes closed as you permitted him to pleasure you like he knew you adored, your hand pushing him towards you as an encouragement to keep doing what he was doing, and he never stopped. Your hole throbbed, his tongue went up and down, he sucked and teased with his teeth as well, the sensations overwhelming you but becoming more and more intense, Jisung could clearly hear how you were coming apart and losing your mind from the silent posture you wanted to maintain, but he just loved your moans and heavy breathing when he flicked his tongue a certain way, and how you pulled his hair and you tried to arch your back. You were so beautiful, and to him there was nothing better than to see you like this, so flustered and sensitive from how hard he was going to make you cum.

Feeling how you started to shake, one of your hands flew to your mouth when you knew that you wouldn't be able to resist any more of the sweet torment you were a prisoner for, and suddenly, white hot pleasure numbed you and all you could do was lay there, pulling his hair locks and shaking slightly. Jisung never stopped his attack on you, the overstimulation caused by his tongue provoking a few tears from escaping the corners of your eyes, it felt like something new, like you had unblocked a new level of extasis.

Your high finally ended, and just when Jisung heard you breathing again he slowed down. You hadn't realized he put a hand on top of the one over your mouth to help quiet your cries, but you were certainly thankful that he'd done it, because if he hadn't, your neighbors would think he was ending your life or torturing a poor animal, or even worse, you would have a little girl banging on the door thinking you were hurt or something.

"You taste so good, my love, and you were so good to me too, enjoying how I played with your clit" he murmured, wiping his chin from your essence and standing up from the floor, looking at you with those lusty eyes you'd gotten to know so well, "but I still want you to come on my cock too. Look at me, look at the effect you have on me, Y/N…"

Your hand left his hair to clean your sweaty forehead, you tried your best to look at him when he ordered you to, his pants with an obviously painful erection, your eyes not failing to notice a dark spot that could be seen in the fabric.

Jisung undid the button and unzipped his pants, then slipped a hand under his dark boxers to pump himself, grunting from the touch of his hand against his dick, it was a majestic view you had only seen one time in the shower when he was horny but didn't wanted to wake you up.

It had been after a stressful night at the club full of young college students, he went straight to the shower after arriving home and the sound of the water hitting the tiles of the bathroom woke you up. You had sneaked to the bathroom, curious of the complaining noises Jisung made, and there you found him, with his eyes closed, a hand against the wall and the other around his dick moving slowly while he bit his lip, the water droplets running through his naked body making him appear like a Greek God. You kept staring at him working on himself maybe a little too much, because he ended up discovering you and then fucking you carefully in the shower. Truly, an incredible experience that even if it had been a little difficult to manage, you felt it was so worth it.

Finally undressing himself, Jisung stood up between your legs again, his hand on your stomach and he bent to kiss your forehead sweetly.

"You ready, baby?" he asked, waiting for any signal that could mean a positive or negative from you. One of his hands looked for yours to intertwine your fingers. You nodded, swallowing as you thought how good it was to have him filling you, and second later, he did just that. He stretched you as he entered you slowly, his hand squeezing yours next to your head while his other supported his weight, a quiet moan coming from his lips.

"Oh shit, Jisung! Fuck, you feel so good, please" your broken voice managed to speak.

You waited for him to move, but he asked you instead if you trusted him, and simple as that he shifted and now he was standing, your legs around his waist and arms around his neck, his hands on your eyes as he walked somewhere, the destination being your tiny balcony. You thought he wouldn't dare step outside, but he did and the cold air hit you, and not only that, but Jisung also pressed you against the cold glass door of the balcony.

"You better keep quiet, dove, or you'll get us discovered" he warned, proceeding to fuck you slowly as the moonlight illuminated you.

Two mornings after, you showered and got ready to eat breakfast. Jisu was already awake watching some cartoons as her dad hummed while he finished cooking her lunch. "Good morning," you said, going to kiss Jisung's lips and sitting to drink coffee.

"Hey, sweetheart. How do you feel?" Jisung corresponded to your greeting, giving you a quick wink before turning his back to the almost completed food.

"I'm okay, not too tired. Thanks for the coffee, babe. Are you ready for work?" you asked him. He laughed, but he admitted that he was actually nervous since it was something he was very passionate about, it made you happy to see him following his dreams.

When you were done with breakfast, the three of you went to the car, you would drop Jisung first at his friend's company, and then you would leave Jisu at the kindergarten, and you would go to your classes as usual.

"Have a nice first day, Sungie. Love you, I'll see you at home"

"Goodbye, daddy!"

"Thanks, beautiful. Behave well, princess. Love you both" and after you left him, you drove to Jisu's school.

She was always happy to go, she always talked about how her teacher was so pretty and smart, and you couldn't blame her. He was very charming, you would admit, and not only was he nice to the children he teached, but he also cared for the parents too and let everyone know that they could count on him, he was such a lovely spirit, you thought it was a shame Jisung hadn't met him yet, since it was you always dropping Jisu and then going to college while Jisung stayed home and slept after the long and tiresome club nights.

Turning off the car, you got out of the car and opened Jisu's door, helping her out and then walking hand in hand as she excitedly told you that she couldn't wait to see her favorite teacher in the whole world.

"Good morning, Y/N, Jisu" his smooth voice reached your ears when you arrived at the classroom. More kids and parents were saying their goodbyes, luckily Jisu always showed that she was brave and never spent too long hugging you goodbye, too eager to go play with the others kids to mind if you stayed too long after or not.

"Hey, good morning, teacher. How was your weekend?" you asked him, trying to be polite and show that you were a friend for him if he needed to talk just like he was for everyone else.

"Oh, Y/N, I've told you you can just call me Hyunjin, and my weekend was good, thanks for asking. How was yours?" he asked back, looking at your slightly colored cheeks with an adorable eye smile as he reminded you once again to call him by his name.

"My weekend was also nice, thank you, Hyunjin. How-" you were about to say something more, but your alarm that indicated you should better be leaving for your class rang. "Oh, I'm sorry, it seems like I should be leaving for class! See you later."

The professor nodded in understanding, and you turned and left, careful with your steps to not trip and fall to the ground. When you successfully got into your car, you breathed in and exhaled, preparing yourself for the rest of the day.

That was how your new routine was created; first, Jisung woke up and made breakfast, then you dropped him at work and took Jisu to school and you went to college and once you were done with classes you picked up Jisu and went to work at the coffee shop where you would meet with Jisung and the three of you would get home, some weekends still going on trips and enjoying as much time together as you could.

A few months into the new routine, when you were dropping Jisu at school Hyunjin asked you to stay a little more, explaining that there was an upcoming school trip and he was asking you to go as a supervisor. You thanked him, saying that you would try your best to accompany him and the class as well, and sooner than you had expected, the day arrived and Jisung and you were more than ready to go to the aquarium with a lot of other kids and few parents.

The trip was fun, if you had to admit. Seeing all the fish swimming and getting to know more about them was very interesting, and many kids agreed with you when you said that mermaids were very lucky to live underwater with many beautiful species.

Later, Hyunjin announced that it was time for lunch, so everyone had a break to sit down and eat. You were sitting with Jisung next to you, he was drinking from a juice box when Hyunjin approached you and sat with the two of you, addressing you and ignoring the man next to you.

"You're incredibly good with kids, Y/N, and it really shows. They seem to like you a lot" he said, placing a hand on your shoulder, his eyebrows raised as he spoke.

"Well, thank you. I like being with kids, actually, I've always wanted a big family" you shyly responded, looking at Jisung through the corner of your eye. You thought he would react somehow, but he was too focused looking at the kids who were playing near you.

"Well, you're still young and you seem pretty put together to be a single mother… If you look further you might find someone you could share your life with and get married" Hyunjin mumbled, turning from you to look at his class running around the cafeteria.

"Single mother?" you repeated, eyebrows furrowed as you repeated his words on your head again.

"What? Since when are you a single mother?" Jisung's voice reached your ears, making both you and Hyunjin turn to him. "I thought… I thought I was her father?" his voice cracked, making you open your eyes wide in confusion.

"Aren't you her uncle?" Hyunjin asked, finally acknowledging his presence.

"No, Jisung is Jisu's dad. I'm… I'm not a single mother, I'm Jisung's girlfriend, not… Jisu's biological mother" you explained to the teacher in a quiet voice to not get any attention from the other adults near you.

"You're her dad? I'm so sorry, I always saw Y/N leaving Jisu and picking her up, I thought… I thought you and her were all by yourselves. I…" Hyunjin's hand flew to cover his mouth, he seemed so ashamed from his quick assumptions that his face started picking a pink tone. "I wanted to invite you to a date, Y/N. You're a fantastic parental figure to Jisu and– and you're so beautiful, too… I have a big crush on you, I'm sorry…"

You wanted to answer to his apologetic words, but you were too shocked to say anything, not knowing what words would be appropriate to speak so you turned to Jisung to see what he had to say in regards to this situation instead.

"Look, I can't blame you for liking her. She really is magnificent and I'll never get to comprehend how lucky I am for being by her side. I'm sorry, Hyunjin, but I'm sure one day you'll find someone like Y/N you can love" the sincerity and affection carried on his words made you look down and stare at his hand that had moved moments before to hold yours, you already knew but you loved him and how sweet he was.

Hyunjin smiled at your boyfriend and then cleared his throat, "thank you for saying that. You two make a lovely couple, but… if you ever get to break up, you know where I work, Y/N" he winked, moving to stand up and walk away to get the class's attention and continue the tour.

Neither of you spoke a word about Hyunjin's misinterpretation of your civil state after the trip. Sure, it had shocked you at first, but you brushed it off as something not that important. What you didn't know was how badly those words were torturing Jisung's brain. He stayed up most of the night that day, an arm around your shoulders as you peacefully slept on his chest, his head running wild with thoughts about you and how much you changed his life.

That's how he finally gathered the courage to talk to Chan and Changbin about marriage; he knew he loved you, he knew you were a highlight of his life along with Jisu and he was a witness to how much you and she liked each other. He couldn't ask for anything more, and besides, maybe having a ring on your finger would help you stop getting flirted with when you already shared a life with him, because after all, you were young and full of life, many people approached you and asked you for a drink at college or they also asked for your number at work, and the idea of getting married to you excited him more than it scared him, so why not propose to you?

His friends supported his choice, Chan and Changbin had gotten to know you a little more and you got along with them together, they supported you and Jisung and they also offered to babysit Jisu to give you private time together. They were very considerate, and not only that but they could feel how much Jisung adored you in every lyric of any song inspired by you.

So a few months later, one tranquil Friday evening after work when his friends dropped him off at the coffee shop that was nearly empty (except for the owners, Jeongin, Chan, Changbin and for some reason Seungmin too) you were surprised by his cautious behavior.

Jisu was sitting on Changbin's lap when Jisung took your hand and made you walk to the middle of the place, clearing his throat nervously while still holding your hand, making eye contact with you when he started speaking:

"Y/N, this is where we met a long time ago, and this is where everything began that day when I asked you if you could do me a favor. It was the start of our story together, and after spending many days and nights with you I'm more than certain that I love you. I loved you that day, and I will still love you tomorrow, so would you marry me?" He finally ended his speech with a knee on the floor, Jisu next to him handing him a small velvet box that he opened, revealing a beautiful ring inside.

You were more than surprised now, staring at his kneeled form with teary eyes, a hand covering your mouth as you simply nodded in response to his question, and then he placed the ring on your finger, kissing your hand and then standing up to kiss you sweetly, making your heart melt.

"Thank you, Y/N. I love you so much" and after that, everyone rushed to congratulate you two, creating beautiful memories for you.

That Friday, Jisu clung to her uncle Changbin's neck and waved goodbye at you and your now fiancé, saying that she couldn't wait to go to the fair the next day with him, making you laugh and kiss her forehead goodbye, thanking Changbin (and Chan too) for taking care of her and taking her places.

When you arrived home with Jisung that night, you couldn't help but smile like you did when he kissed you the first time, it was a satisfactory feeling, to know that he loved you as much as to ask you to be a permanent part of his life. You were clingy to him, which also made his heart flutter when you pecked his lips or giggled when he touched you gently, but behind the closed door of the apartment he wasted no time and kissed you hungrily, like a caveman trying the most delicious thing in the world.

You breathed in, corresponding to his rude kiss, your hands on his face and his resting on your waist.

"You have no idea how happy it makes me to know you're gonna be only mine, sweetheart. Just mine," he whispered, his breath against your cheek when he separated from your lips to tell you that. He had pressed you against the door as soon as he locked it, attacking your lips like it was his only mission and then going down your neck, leaving a warm trace of kisses burning your skin.

This time, he paid no mind to the 'no marks' unspoken rule he had given himself, sucking on your neck with the sole intention of leaving evidence of the passionate night the two of you would be having to celebrate your engagement, and you couldn't complain. He had given you the ring you thought you would get in a few more years, you might as well show that you're already taken to anyone who crossed your way, it turned you on a little more, if you had to be brutally honest. Seeing Jisung being possessive of you always made you feel like you were one of his priorities, and also showed you that he had no intention in leaving you alone any time soon.

Moving your head to the side to allow him more access to your neck, his hands started taking your jeans off and were now running through your belly under your shirt, touching everything he could as he kept marking you.

"You're only mine now, baby" he growled, separating from you to take off your shirt and look at your almost naked figure, his eyes with a heavy lusty shadow on them.

"... Just yours" you repeated, closing your eyes and taking his face to kiss him with the same passion he did when the door closed behind you.

Your hands rested on his chest, fingers trying to unbutton his shirt, successfully failing at completing the task when he separated from you, placing one of his hands on top of both of yours and pinning them above your head, resting against the cold door while his other hand slipped through your panties.

He groaned when he felt your growing wetness, he found your clit instantly and rubbed it, making you sigh in satisfaction until his hand went down further and he inserted two fingers inside you, this time dragging a gasp from your lips when your walls felt the introduction of his digits. It felt nice, but you knew his cock would feel better inside you, you loved how he filled you.

Pumping his fingers slowly, you started moaning, letting yourself enjoy his treatment. His mouth left kisses on your clavicle, then your chest and when you least expected it, he was pulling your bra down with his teeth and sucking on one of your nipples, his fingers never stopped their work on you causing you to become a wet, moaning mess with twitching legs until you finally came, crying out Jisung's name when your high hit you.

He kept pumping his fingers, having discovered that you did actually like when he overstimulated you once and since then doing it from time to time, this being one of them, and when you blinked your orgadm away, the pulled them from you, loosening his grip on your wrists and licking his fingers clean from your juices as he hummed.

You thought he would be done, you thought he would like to go to bed and fuck you until you screamed his mess in the comfort of your king size bed, but apparently Jisung had other plans in mind, as he undressed his shirt and threw it to the floor with your clothes and pulled you by the arm to the back of the couch, turning you and pushing your back so you were bending over it, his knee between your legs separating them and keeping you from closing them. He started taking your underwear off, his fascinated lusty eyes appreciating how wet you were, practically dripping.

"I wish you could see yourself, you look so lovely, all ready to take me after I made you cum with my fingers. I bet I can make you cum like that again, would you like that?" He asked.

You gulped, "N-no, I want your cock, please fuck me with your cock!"

"My needy baby, so cute. It's 'kay, I'll make you cum around me sweetheart" he responded while his hands caressed your ass lovingly until you couldn't feel them anymore. Soon, you heard him pull his zipper down, anticipating what was yet to come.

"Are you ready, angel?" He asked, pressing the tip of his cock against your throbbing entrance. You nodded, and he started pushing himself inside your velvety walls, stretching you.

With a growl, his hands held you in place by your hips, making sure you wouldn't move from the position he had you in as he started pulling out, ready to repeat the process, meanwhile you were holding a pillow for dear life as your breath got caught in your throat as you waited for him to set up a pace with his hips.

Jisung started slowly, enjoying how you felt around him and loving the way you took him in, looking at how he disappeared which caused him to moan. You, on the other hand, had to resist the urgency of moving. You remember telling Jisung that you wanted him to bruise your cervix, saying that you wouldn't mind new things to which he agreed quickly.

Maybe that was why he had started more than the usual missionary, you were thankful that he kept it in mind, and now surprising you by taking you on the couch, in front of the turned off TV where you could see your blurry reflection getting wrecked from behind by him, it felt incredible.

"You feel so good, I'm so glad your pussy is just mine" he moaned, stopping for a brief second to take your right leg and rest it on the couch to hit a deeper spot inside you, making you start tearing up from pleasure.

"A-all yours" you cried out, inevitably clenching around him when you repeated what he said. You saw his cocku smile through the black mirror that was the TV.

"Ah, J-Jisung, harder!" you demanded with a whine when he found your g spot, the detonator to your best orgasms.

The sudden sting from his hand landing on your butt cheek shocked you, making you moan. "Where are your manners, baby? I thought you were my good angel" he said, starting to slow down the speed that had increased since he started thrusting.

"Please, go hard-harder" you corrected yourself, and once he heard the magic word he instantly did what you had asked of him, provoking you to moan each time he reached where you wanted him, and soon you were clenching around him, legs shaking and walls hugging him tightly causing him to near his climax as well.

It took a few more thrusts for him to find his release, but when he did you felt him filling your insides with his warm seed, a sexy groan coming from his chest and his fingers leaving a bruise on your hips from holding you too hard.

Pulling out from you, he pushed his fingers inside your pussy to keep his cum from hitting the ground, then he carefully pushed you on the couch and walked around it to cuddle with you in his arms.

"I love you" he told you, his hand petting your hair innocently (as if he hadn't fucked your lungs out 5 minute ago).

"I know," you answered, kissing his chest and tightening your arm around his torso in a half hug.

"Let's stay like this for a few minutes and then we can bathe, okay?" you hummed in agreement, enjoying the comfortable silence between the two of you until any of you felt gross enough to want to get cleaned.

You didn't know how much time had passed, but when you realized Jisung wasn't with you any more you stood up looking for him, only to find him filling the tub, a few aromatic candles lighted up, a delicious smell reaching your nostrils. You saw the bathtub was almost all full, so you decided to surprise Jisung by wrapping your arms around his back.

"Let's get cleaned up, what do you say, sweetie?" He said, removing your arms from him and stepping into the warm water, opening his arms for you.

You rolled your eyes, but copied him anyway and rested your back in his chest. The water relaxed your muscles, the candle's scent helped you feel almost like in heaven, and Jisung arm made you know you were safe. Everything was so sweet, until you felt something else poking your lower back.

With a raised eyebrow, you faced your partner with a silent explanation only to find him staring at the love bites on your neck, but you opted for not commenting anything about it.

"You know… I really love you and I'm happy that you accepted to be a part of my life," he said, his deep voice and serious tone getting your attention, so you faced him to hear all he had to say.

"I remember you told Hyunjin that you wanted a big family, and… I know Jisu wouldn't mind having a sibling. I believe now would be a good time to have a baby of our own, but only if you agree with me, honey" he smiled, kissing your shoulder.

"Are you serious?" you asked him after processing his words in your head. He nodded, his hand playing with yours as he waited for you to say something else.

"I would love to, Sungie. I already consider you and Jisu as my family, hell, I feel happy when she tells her friend I'm her mom. So yes, if you're really sure, I want to do it. Let's have a baby" you smiled excitedly, moving to kiss his lips sweetly.

"Then we should keep practicing, shouldn't we?" He joked, winking at you after you ended the kiss. You hit him playfully, giggling at his question.

From joking about it, you two ended up having sex on the tub and staying there until the water got cold and the candles lighted out, and yet, when you were cuddling in bed ready to sleep, you couldn't stop smiling. It had been a fantastic day and even better night and early morning.

Next morning when Jisung saw you walking to the kitchen with his shirt on, he kissed your lips and greeted you with a "good morning, future Mrs. Han," a plate of pancakes in front of you.

"I'm so lucky to have you" you told him, to which he replied with "I'm so lucky to be loved by you."

And you decided that this was pure happiness, you didn't have anything to worry, and you loved your family and your friends a lot, you were almost done with college and starting to plan a wedding. Maybe you weren't rich, but you had everything you wanted and maybe a little more.

After all, engraved in the ring Jisung gave you, it said "for my soul mate", so you had him, for as long as time lasted, and he had you, the missing piece of the puzzle of his life.

You complemented each other, and comprehended each other. What you two had could be considered 'true love', and you were thankful to the universe for placing this single dad in your life, showing you what happiness, and what love was.

"I can't wait to marry you" you sighed, daydreaming about how you wanted the wedding to be.

"And I cannot wait to call you mine legally" he responded, kissing your cheek.

"I've always been yours"

"That's good, because you'll always be mine in the future as well. No quitting now, babe!"

#skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #han jisung x you #han x y/n #han x reader #han smut #han x you #han jisung smut #mine #original content #part 2 #scheduled post

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heloisedaphnebrightmore · 3 years

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Deception [Benedict Bridgerton x Reader]

Title: Deception Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Female!Reader Word count: 4.5k Published: 21 March 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Summary: Violet's constant search for a wife for her second eldest son has become too much for Benedict. The only escape he sees is to ask you to pretend to be courting each other. But how long will it work for with your feelings eating you up from the inside. Bingo: [x] This is part of my Make me feel Bingo Card by @girl-next-door-writes

Square filled: Fake dating

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Benedict Bridgerton was a very capable man. He had a tremendous amount of talent in capturing the real beauty of the world in his drawings. He was confident, but still genuinely kind and caring for his loved ones. He also had a rather playful side to him, a somewhat child-like behaviour, one that the ton would not have appreciated in their society, but Benedict had the privilege to show his real personality to those who loved him, ones that never judged him for who he was.

However, there was one person he felt utterly useless around. When it came to you, he turned into an adorable mess, a clumsy one at that, even stuttering on occasions. Should you have known the reason for his unusual behaviour, it would have brought a rather large smile to your face, but Benedict dared not to reveal his feelings for you.

For someone who has been friends for so long, you both seemed to have found it hard to show your true feelings for one another, as though both of you were clueless. For Benedict it seemed you only spared as much attention to him as a friend would, whilst you thought he was merely looking out for you as a brother figure.

You sat in the ballroom, watching as he grimaced at his mother, who might have slightly forced her second oldest child to dance with one of the many stunning unwed ladies. The one he was forced to dance with however seemed to enjoy Benedict's company. He didn't talk, nor did he look at the woman, still she shined brighter than a diamond in his arms, proud to be so close to such a fine man.

Heaving a heavy sigh, you watched as he held his hand firmly on her back, leading her around the dance floor, making her giggle by just being close to her. Your heart ached at the thought of ever having to give up on him, at the thought of seeing him with another, someone he would choose to love, ignoring to see your longing gazes forgotten on him. How could he have seen, he never dared to look when he felt your eyes on him, nor did you dared to look when he forgot his on you.

Standing up from your chair, you walked towards the terrace, needing fresh air, trying to clear your thoughts as the slightly cool, windy weather stroked your cheeks. You knew you shouldn't have thought of him romantically, but you would have been a fool not to notice the handsome and caring man he has grown into. Watching Lady Bridgerton trying to find a wife to her son hurt both emotionally and physically and you couldn't wait for the season to end, to leave the balls and play-pretend behind you, running away from the inevitable.

"Help me!" you heard his desperate voice, but before you could have turned around, you felt his hand lock around your wrist, gently, but in a haste, dragging you after himself.

"Benedict, what are you doing?" you asked in confusion, trying to understand his chaotic behaviour as he pulled you along, passing corridors by corridors in the gigantic mansion.

"My mother," he sighed as he stopped his steps, breathing heavily. "My mother is becoming—" you waited for him to continue, but he seemed to have been stuck in his thoughts.

"Are you alright?" you asked, frowning at his frozen state, as though he couldn't find the words and his thoughts overruled his actions. You watched his hunched back as he fought to get enough air in his lungs, his eyes focused on a certain point on the marble flooring, completely out of the present. "Benedict!" you called him again, this time firmly, attempting to catch his attention.

"I know it!" he exclaimed, making you jump slightly at his unexpected enthusiasm as a rather wide smile spread across his face.

"What do you know exactly?" you inquired.

"It might sound foolish at first and I do not blame you if you think I have lost my mind, but I need your help," he explained, leaving you even more curious.

"What would I need to help you with?" you asked furrowing at the man as if he has forgotten to include you in his grand idea.

"My mother has been adamant in finding me a wife and there is only so much I can do to prevent her from continuing her crusade. I know I shouldn't ask you such a thing, but I can't possibly think of anyone else who I trust enough," he continued in a secretive manner.

"Benedict, you must be clearer. I don't understand what you wish for me to do," you attempted to push him to finally reveal his idea.

"I need my mother to stop searching for a wife and the only way I can do that is if I already found someone I am interested in," he started. "That is where I would need your help, if you agreed. Should you agree to pretend I am courting you, my mother would surely stop this nonsense and leave me alone," for a mere second you felt overwhelmed by the hope of his interest in you, but that was only until your brain processed his words. "Pretend" being the main focus of your attention, shattering the small shimmering light of hope within you.

You took a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself, attempting to hide your disappointment. "Surely you didn't think this through. Your mother isn't a fool, she would see through us immediately. You can't possibly think it's a good idea," you tried to reason with him, but instead of thinking it through again, he quickly shook his head.

"But it is. Think about it. You have said so yourself, you don't want to marry just yet and nor do I. It would be the perfect option for both of us, solving our issues," he added enthusiastically as if his idea was anything, but brilliant. He could clearly see the weary expression across your face as he stepped closer and reached for your hands, engulfing them in his large and warm palms. "We would only have to pretend for a short while, I promise," he tried to reassure you. Whilst you knew it was a foolish idea, the thought of being able to stay close to him even if for a short period of time, seemed to cloud your better judgement.

"For how long?" you asked looking up at him as a mischievous grin spread across his dashingly handsome face. One that you adored so much. "I wouldn't want to be a spinster, Benedict," you sighed heavily.

"I would never let that happen," he shook his head quickly, his previously playful smile long gone from his face. "Let us do it for a few weeks and we will see how my mother reacts. I'm sure if we work well together, you might even catch the attention of some very noble men too," he winked jokingly, trying to lift your dull mood.

You haven't had much time to contemplate, maybe a few seconds until you ran through all the options you have been provided with, which was basically none. You heaved a heavy sigh and shook your head, offering a sceptical look to Benedict. "Fine," you said, earning a surprised expression from him, your answer shocking him for a second, before he wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up, twirling you around happily.

"You are my saviour," he chuckled as he hinted a small kiss on your forehead, stopping himself as he realised what he had done. "I apologise, I didn't mean to—"

"I understand. You are simply happy I have agreed to such a scandalous idea," you rolled your eyes, but you couldn't hide the happiness you felt. Even if for a short while, Benedict was to belong to you, and it meant more than you could have possibly expressed. You knew you couldn't have him forever but having him for a couple of weeks made you feel like the happiest person alive.

"I owe you! I didn't think you would agree," he grinned happily, a childish warmness radiating from his stance as though he had won a grand prize.

"I still don't understand why I did. Surely, I'm a fool," you added quickly with a silent chuckle.

"We both are," he replied as he started leading you back to the ballroom with your arm linked around his. His gaze focused on the way ahead, but your eyes were rather resting on his attractive features. He was a stunning man, and you were sure if he had turned to look at you, he would have seen the amount of love you were harbouring for him. But as many times before, no one of you has ever turned.

Weeks passed by and if anyone, Violet Bridgerton was the happiest person to see Benedict growing closer to the woman, you, she had envisioned beside her second eldest son. She has made it very clear that a wedding should soon be happening, wanting nothing but a little baby in her arms. You never wanted to crash her dreams but hearing her talking about a future between you and Benedict was beyond painful. The thought of you waking up beside Benedict, his arm resting across your waist, his neck hidden in the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your skin made your heart ache, knowing it was impossible.

You stood in Somerset House, one arm hooked around Benedict's as he watched the paintings, his face focused on one particular art with dark colours and shadings, slightly depressing as if the artist tried to capture a horrible emotion. Art was always something that you found beautiful, but never really understood. When Benedict talked about the meaning behind each piece with a childish happiness across his face, it made you feel content. Although you didn't understand much of what he was saying, the adorable expression he wore was worth each and every moment you spent listening to him.

Looking at his handsome features as they relaxed into a content smile, made you mirror his expression. You couldn't look at him and not smile. As though his mere presence made you feel at ease.

"I feel your eyes on me," he chuckled with a mischievous smile, knowing that you have indeed been staring at him for the longest time.

"I'm sorry," you quickly turned away, feeling your cheeks and ears heat up in embarrassment. "I couldn't stop watching you. You were really focused on that painting and it seemed as though you were here physically, but not mentally. You unintentionally make this face when you enjoy a painting," you smiled shyly.

"A face?" he furrowed, not knowing of his own reaction.

"Yes, as if you were completely captured by the painting. You have a certain content smile across your face and even forget to blink at times," you giggled, placing your hand in front of your mouth, remembering his facial expression.

"Don't hide your smile," he said as he reached for your wrist and gently wrapped his fingers around your arm, pulling your hand away from your lips. "You are even more beautiful when you smile," for a second his words made you hope, as though he meant more than he let on. His eyes seemed as if they could see through you, reading each and every single thought that crossed your mind. For the shortest of time, it felt your feelings weren't as unrequited as you thought. However, you quickly had to remind yourself that your imagination was playing a painful game with you, one that would surely end in a heartbreak.

You quickly turned away, trying to shake those foolish thoughts away, before you decided to dwell on them any longer. Clearing your thoughts, you turned back to him with a phony smile across your face, biting your bottom lip to calm yourself. But his deep frown left you confused. "Are you okay?" you questioned as he tilted his head as if he was studying your face.

"You were biting your lips again," he replied. "You do that when you are nervous or feeling uncomfortable," he added, stunning you. Biting your lips was indeed a nervous habit of yours, one that you couldn't stop as it made you feel slightly at ease when you felt as if even your own thoughts betrayed you. You never thought Benedict even realised those irrelevant, minor details.

"I'm fine, Benedict," you tried to reassure him with a smile that you wore confidently but could not fool Benedict.

"Should you feel the need to talk, I'm here," he said, drawing tiny circles on the back of your arm that he was still securely holding onto, reassuring you that he was by your side whenever you were in need of him.

As happy as it made you, you couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment as you thought about the heartbreak when he would finally want to end your foolish little game and find himself a wife that he could cherish forever, leaving you with the most horrible heartache one could cause.

You knew it was inevitable, you knew it would kill you, but you loved Benedict and you would have never forced him to stay beside you for any longer than he wanted to. You were ready to give him up, to be happy even if with someone else. The thought of letting him go hurt, but you weren't sure of your own strength either. Thinking about how long you could stay beside him pretending to be a mere friend left you with just as much pain, if not more. But you were ready to sacrifice your own happiness even if to be able to spend one more second with him.

Days passed by since your slightly awkward encounter in Somerset House. You have pretended to be a couple so in love that you couldn't possibly stay away from each other. Lady Whistledown didn't miss to write a paragraph or two about the two of you, already planning your wedding, one that you found slightly excessive, but dared not to mention to keep your act believable.

As much as you enjoyed the first few weeks of your play-pretend, it was hard to keep it up for long. You loved every minute you spent with Benedict, but the longer you were beside him, the more pain you felt. You wished to make him happy, to continue your act, but you also knew that it wasn't forever, and that tiny little thought suffocated you.

You sat on a bench in the park, right after promenading with Benedict. He joined his brothers whilst your maid brought you a glass of water to refresh yourself. You watched as Benedict laughed with his brothers, a wide, adorable and carefree smile sat across his face. Weeks ago, you would have smiled at his happiness, but then and there, sitting on the bench, watching his happy form, you felt miserable. Each time you looked at him, your stomach jumped nervously, your breath caught in your lungs as he touched your arm. These tiny little details meant nothing to him, but for you they meant the world. He couldn't have known the effects his advances left on you, he couldn't have predicted to hurt you unintentionally, but in the end, he unknowingly caused you pain.

Standing up from the bench, you started walking towards the Bridgerton brothers. Heaving a heavy sight, you lifted your arm and tapped Benedict's shoulder lightly, trying to catch his attention. He turned around with a wide smile, looking at you curiously. However, your face must have forgotten to oblige as his smile quickly disappeared and concern took over him.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he nodded to his brothers and reached for your hand, placing it on his arm, leading you away from his family.

"I must talk to you," you started, your voice unusually grim.

"Go ahead. You are worrying me," he added impatiently. Trying to collect your thoughts, you stopped, halting the man beside you whose worried eyes didn't seem to want to leave you for a mere second. "Talk to me," he attempted to reassure you.

"I am really sorry, but I can't possibly do this anymore," your words earned a confused frown from Benedict, before he finally understood what you meant. "I know I promised to help you and I wish I could have done it longer, but I honestly can't do this anymore," you added as you fought against your tears, trying to keep them in place for as long as you could. You couldn't let yourself cry in front of so many people, you couldn't let that happen. Benedict straightened himself in front of you, trying to hide your face from the curious eyes.

"I understand. I am sorry for forcing you to do this. I never thought it could be this hard on you. I would never hurt you, you know that, right?" he asked, trying to contain himself from wrapping his arms around you, fidgeting with his hands beside his thighs.

"I know and you didn't hurt me, it's not your fault. It has just become rather difficult recently and I don't think I'm capable of pretending anymore," you tried to reassure him, making him feel less guilty. "I'm still your friend and I will always be your friend," you added with a phoney smile. Your own words were a lie. You didn't know how long you could pretend to be his friend, but you knew he needed to hear that, he needed not to blame himself. "I will be going home now, but surely I will see you later," you smiled up at him as you curtsied and nodded towards your maid, ready to head home, completely oblivious to the pained gaze he was watching your slowly disappearing form with.

Whilst you sat in your carriage, letting your tears finally run down your cheeks, leaning on your maid's shoulder, Benedict stood confused between Colin and Anthony, his eyes fixed on the ground, his thoughts filled with you only.

"Brother?" Colin called for him with concern in his eyes. It was unusual to see his brother unresponsive, without a playful smile. "Are you alright?" he asked, earning a frown from Benedict.

"I shouldn't have dragged her into this," he replied, but his words were directed more to himself than his brothers.

"What do you mean?" Anthony asked, seemingly more interested in their conversation.

"It was all a lie," Benedict replied, his gaze still fixed on the carefully cut grass.

"What was a lie?" the eldest Bridgerton brother asked again.

"All along we were pretending to be courting, so mother would stop trying to force me to marry," he scoffed, finally understanding the weight of his idea. "She said she can't do this anymore. That it was too painful to bear," he shook his head, guilt overcoming him.

"You really are a fool," Anthony replied with a sceptical look across his face, earning a confused look from both Colin and Benedict.

"How do you mean? Is it because we have been pretending?" Benedict questioned his brother. "I know it was foolish, but she agreed, I didn't know it would be particularly hard on her," he added with a deep frown.

"Brother, can you not see the way she looks at you? Always trying to make you feel happy, bringing a smile to your face even when she, herself is struggling to do so? Are you really that blind?" Anthony raised a questioning brow, as though he couldn't believe how oblivious his brother was towards your feelings.

"Should I understand?" he asked tilting his head innocently, searching for the right explanation. "We have been friends from a very young age, I am certain we have always tried to make each other smile in a difficult situation," he added, earning an eye roll from the eldest Bridgerton brother, ignoring his manners.

"When you said you were courting her, I thought you finally realised that you weren't the only one with feelings beyond friendship. However, after hearing about this foolish idea of yours, forcing a lady to pretend to love you, when in fact she has feelings for you is beyond stupid, brother, and I'm quite disappointed in you for not realising it yourself," he shook his head disapprovingly.

"Are you telling me she has feelings for me?" Benedict asked in disbelief, his brother's words lighting a weak hope within him.

"Indeed, took you long enough to understand," he scoffed.

"I have to talk to her," Benedict added quickly, heading towards the carriages in haste, carefully planning all he needed to tell you.

The ride didn't take long, 20 minutes at most, before he stood in front of your house, his hands shaking slightly, nervousness running through his whole being. Knocking on the door, a maid opened it for him, asking him to wait to announce his arrival to you.

You laid on your bed, cheeks swollen from crying, bottom lip red as a result of the constant biting of your nervous state. A knock on your door brought you out of your misery as your maid walked into the room.

"Mr. Bridgerton is here to see you," she said with a saddened tone, knowing of the arrangement between the two of you. Your eyes widened in surprise, you weren't ready to see him, especially not in your current, heartbroken state. "Would you like me to ask him to leave?" she questioned, looking at the panicked expression across your face.

"No, it's fine. Please take him to the drawing room," you instructed her and headed to the bathroom to make yourself presentable. Your eyes were bloodshot, your face was slightly swollen, and your clothes were beyond wrinkled. Attempting to straighten your dress, you stroked the material over and over again, but it didn't seem to work, nor did the cold water you washed your face with to remove the evidence of your miserable state. At last, you gave up and walked to the drawing room, knowing you wouldn't be able to do anything else with your appearance.

"We have just parted, Benedict," you said to the man as you stepped inside the room and took a seat across the sofa he occupied.

"I needed to see you," he replied, standing up from his place and taking a seat beside you. "I—, I talked to my brothers after you left," he started, stammering over his words, something he only did in his nervous state. "I am a fool and there is no excuse for that. I can't possibly imagine how hard it must have been for you to pretend—"

"I have told you already, I am completely fine," you tried to reassure him with a faux smile, one that this time Benedict didn't believe to be genuine.

"But are you?" he asked, earning a confused frown from you. "Do you know why I thought this foolish idea to be brilliant in the first place?" he raised a questioning brow, but instead of replying you shook your head. "I wanted to be closer to you. I merely thought it would be my chance to spend more time with you. Surely, I had no intention to marry anyone, and I wished my mother to stop, but my primary concern was you. I wanted to be near you at all times, but I couldn't possibly tell you how I felt, knowing you would only reject me," you couldn't control the surprise sitting across your face, your lips parted in shock, his words seemingly part of your most precious dreams. It seemed surreal.

"You are confusing me, Benedict," you spoke up, trying not to hope once again to then fall painfully.

"I'm saying I love you. I have loved you for so long, I can't remember when it started. I never imagined my feelings could be returned and I turned to foolish ideas to be beside you. I needed my brothers to open my eyes and scold me for being childish, for making me hope that I might have your heart even if only half as much as you have mine," he reached for you hand, gently squeezing it in his hold, reassuring you that he meant every single word of his.

"I love you," you blurted out, astonished by his speech, your own words surprising you.

"You do?" he asked, afraid to believe the words he has longed to hear from you.

"I do," you nodded, this time with more confidence, earning a wholehearted smile from Benedict as he leaned closer and wrapped his arms around you, embracing you in his arms.

"I made you cry, didn't I?" he asked as he pulled away slightly, enough for him to be able to look in your eyes as he placed his hands on your cheeks.

"It wasn't you. I was emotional, because I wasn't sure how long I would be able to stay beside you as a friend before it became too much to handle," you giggled awkwardly, feeling as if you have said too much.

"It was still my fault. I didn't consider your feelings," he shook his head, disapproving of his own actions. The tip of his thumb gently brushed across your bottom lip, leaving you with a ticklish feeling. "Have you been biting your lips again?" he asked as his eyes focused on your mouth. His attentiveness, his attention to detail and his closeness made you swallow nervously.

"I might have," you whispered, not daring to raise your voice any louder. Feeling his breath on your lips, the proximity between your faces, his warm palms on your cheeks made you feel intoxicated.

"You shouldn't do that. From now on talk to me when something bothers you," he spoke in a low tone, his voice soothing, making you feel safe. "You are doing it again," he chuckled, his eyes completely captured by the way your teeth bit on your lip, but this time it wasn't nervousness, but excitement. His closeness affected every tiny part of your body. "It really makes me want to kiss you," he breathed, completely mesmerised by your lips, as if an invisible force was pulling him towards you. You felt your heart beating at a dangerous pace, almost as if threatening to escape your chest and you could swear Benedict heard it just as well.

"Hmm," you hummed in a reply, incapable of creating a coherent sentence, before closing the gap between the two of you, a certain confidence rush taking over your actions. Instead of the surprised reaction you expected from Benedict, a playful chuckle left his lungs.

"Impatient, it seems," he added, before he returned your kiss, pulling you closer to himself, enjoying the feeling of your body in his embrace. He has imagined over and over again how it could feel to kiss you, to hold you, but none of those made-up scenarios could ever compete against the reality and the content it filled him with. "I wish to genuinely court you this time," he added as he pulled away from you.

"I very much hope so," you giggled happily, earning a playful eye roll from Benedict, before he captured your lips once again, wrapping his arms around you securely.

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