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bby-bo · 1 year

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When The Boss Comes Knocking

the following is a CEO!Sakusa fic that landed somewhere between sfw and sorta nsfw, but its kiyoomi and he just makes my brain go buzz in every situation so i just couldn’t help it

Part 2

Summary: You dated Sakusa in high school but went your separate ways after graduation. Turns out he missed you much more than he let on.

Warnings: none, just kiyoomi being hot. use of “sweetheart” and “baby”

Sakusa Kiyoomi always has been and will always be the man of your dreams. Tall and broad shouldered, even in his high school years he was the pinnacle of your existence, and all you wanted was to be near him. Your wishes were granted for only a brief period of time when you finally dated in your junior year, but your Kiyoomi was ripped away from you when his family decided he needed to start preparing to take over the business.

The Sakusa Group was well known and respected for their acquisition of many successful start-ups, but details of their business dealings were always very secretive. And the company had only grown and expanded since Kiyoomi became CEO at just a mere 25 years old- not that you were stalking the Sakusa Group’s movements in your free time or anything.

When the two of you broke up he had encouraged you to “follow your own dreams”, and made sure to mention he would be extremely busy in the years after graduating high school. You had received the underlying message loud and clear. He wanted to be left alone and didn’t want a girl from a regular family ruining his image when he entered the executive world. Your heart was shattered, but that didn’t stop you from missing Kiyoomi dearly even years later. The hugs that completely enveloped your frame and the scent of his light cologne, the one he brought you to pick out for him on his birthday. The rasp of his deep voice and how its sound had burrowed into the back of your brain, the memories of random things he once said to you popping to the forefront of your mind haphazardly throughout your days.

You had done as he said, and moved to the city to become an author as you always dreamed. Actually, you were pretty successful in the romance industry and even though you only had a handful of books published, your fanbase was so dedicated and charismatic. In your single year of dating Kiyoomi you had amassed a lifetime’s worth of romantic material, and between your real life experiences with him and the melancholy fantasies that kept you up at night nowadays, you had lots of inspiration. Although, even you were prone to the classically dreaded writer’s block.

Today was just a regular Tuesday morning in the office, where you preferred to write when you were stuck in a rut. Unfortunately, the coffee mug on your desk was not bringing the inspiration that you wanted and you glared at the last sip, willing some piece of creativity to be hiding inside as you downed it. Nothing. Loosening a sigh, you dropped your head into your hands just as a knock rapped on the door. Without lifting your head you greeted the visitor, already knowing who was on the other side.

“Come in!”

“How’s it coming? Anything I can get you right now?” It was the sweet front desk girl, Josie, checking in on you. Again.

“Unless you can write in my place, there’s not much you can do for me i'm afraid” Josie meant well, but her insistent interruptions certainly were not helping your workflow, and this was the third time within 30 minutes she’s asked if you needed anything.

“Okie dokie, I’ll check back later then! Keep at it! ”

“Oh, you don’t have to-” She was off with a wave without hearing your response, the door slamming behind her. With another sigh, your head dropped back into your hands, frustration building.

Not 5 minutes later, there was another knock at the door. But this time the door opened before you could respond.

“Holy shit, Josie i’m really fine I swear- K-Kiyoomi???” You burst from your seat in surprise, your eyes all but popping out of your head.

And there he was, like a fever dream come to life, standing in the doorframe. His handsome face tilted to the side slightly, a smirk pulling across his lips.

“There you are, I’ve been looking for you” His voice had gotten deeper since the last time you spoke. His hair a little longer, his chest a bit stronger. But his eyes remained the same, that dark gaze enticing you and melting you down with just a look.

“W-what are you doing here? How did you-? What is this??”

As much as you wanted to cave and run straight into his arms, you vividly recalled your last conversation with Sakusa. Not Kiyoomi. He had corrected you so coldly before parting, saying “you should call me by last name from now on, otherwise people may get confused”. As if it would be bad if people mistakenly thought you were still dating. As if to push you that much further away. Your confusion only grew as you looked at him now, unsure of his motives for being here.

“Came to scope out a new prospect. I sent an executive to meet with your publishing house’s CEO last week” His smirk widened as he took deliberately slow steps into the room, sleek confidence dripping from him.

That's right, your boss had mentioned that your little publishing house had been recently approached by a huge parent company with an amazing offer, but as far as you knew nothing had been made official. And you certainly had no clue that said parent company was the Sakusa Group. The realization settled in, and the frustration you felt earlier was starting to bubble up again.

All of a sudden he was in your space, sleek black button-up shirt in your direct line of sight. What was his goal here? Certainly this has nothing to do with you? Right. Exactly. He claimed he was here for business. Then why..??

Long fingers gripped your chin, thumb tugging your bottom lip from between your teeth where you nervously chewed it.

“Where did you pick up this bad habit? And when are you planning on acknowledging me properly?” Your heart dropped to your stomach. His firm grip brought your face to look up at his, a little too close for comfort. Kiyoomi’s smirk tilted into a small frown, an admonishing look starting to grow.

“Of course sir, I apologize. Good morning Mr. Sakusa.” Backing out of his hold, you bowed in respect. Of course he was here for just business.

This only seemed to irritate him further though, and when you rose from your greeting he took another step closer. You may as well have been toe to toe now.

“Since when do you address me that way?” His eyes were too intense, and you could feel the memories of your past relationship coming up in your mind, emotion nearly overwhelming you before you swallowed it down.

“I’m not sure what you mean sir, it would be improper for me to address you otherwise”

If he was irritated before, then he was surely pissed off now.

His hands gripped your shoulders, roughly pushing you back against your desk before planting his palms on either side, caging you in.

“Why won’t you look at me, hm? It’s disrespectful to ignore your superior sweetheart” Shit. That voice had you in a vice grip and he knew it. He was using it to his advantage.

“I was unaware you would be my business superior until a minute ago, forgive me sir” How long will your legs hold up before melting completely?

“Seems like something is bothering you. You don’t like the idea of working with me? Or maybe you don’t like the idea of me being your boss? Sweetheart, I hope you realize I know you’ve been writing about me.”

“No! No thats not-!” Your head shot up in a rush to disagree, or maybe to explain. Either way, you immediately realized your mistake and you were silenced once more. The tip of your nose brushed his, and his breath brushed your lips in an intimate greeting, as if to say “hey, i missed you”.

His mock irritation melted away, the smirk returning once more. You fell into the trap too easily.

Most people knew Sakusa to be the cool and straightforward man he showed to the world, but when you dated in high school he quickly shattered this image. Though he certainly preferred to stay away from crowds and strangers, he was still human after all, and loved to be in your personal space whenever he got you alone. He had always enjoyed making you blush and stutter, thriving off the knowledge that he could affect you so deeply. Clearly, he still enjoyed that feeling.

But you were not a toy, and he was interrupting your work day. And how dare he just come back into your life after throwing you aside for so many years?! Absolutely not, you refused to be disrespected this way. Your hands came to his chest, giving him a solid (and completely ineffective) shove.

“No. This is not professional Mr. Sakusa-!”

Sakusa didn’t back up a single inch. Instead he gripped your face, long fingers pinching into your cheeks slightly. Your breath caught in your throat, previous arguments completely obliterated.

“Stop. Saying. No. Now answer me. Since when do you call me by my last name? You’re purposely not answering my question”

When you took a breath in you caught the scent of his cologne, and it was the same one you picked out for him in high school. He still wore it. Every single thought emptied out of your head, except for the recognition of how close he was to you, and where he was touching you.

“Say it.”

“K-Kiyoomi...”

“Say it like you mean it, baby.”

“Kiyoomi.” A smile broke out as his name fell from your mouth a second time.

“That’s my girl, just as pretty as ever. I missed you so bad sweetheart, I’ve been looking for you in the city for some time now. And don't worry, I’ll make up for lost time, so don’t push me away.”

His second hand came up to the back of your head, tugging you back by your hair and bringing your mouth to his. But he didn’t kiss you, he denied you the pleasure, only speaking against your lips. You let him do as he pleased, no longer able to deny how much you missed him. Missed this.

“Look at you with your hair so grown out now.”

“Do you like it?”

“I love everything about you.” He moved to plant a firm kiss to both of your cheeks, and to your disappointment he slowly released his hands from your face and hair.

“The Sakusa Group will officially be in ownership of your publisher by the end of the week. You’ll be seeing a lot more of me, so get used to it sweetheart.” He offered no further explanations or goodbyes, and he left your office with only your disheveled and flustered state to prove that he had really been there at all.

You made absolutely zero progress on your writing the rest of the morning and afternoon, but when you returned the next day ready for another day of failure, you opened the door to see your office transformed into a florist.

There were flowers on every single surface, completely covering your desk and the floor. There were roses of every shade, along with tulips, orchids, and other kinds of flowers you had never even seen before. Each bouquet was bursting with color and life, wrapped in silk ribbons and set in gorgeous porcelain vases that looked absolutely priceless. There was only a small path left open for you to walk to your desk seat, and on your keyboard was a note.

“A flower for every occasion I missed. And more just because.”

Your hand came up to your mouth, tears already welling up in your eyes. You looked to the bottom, and saw he signed the note,

“Always Yours, Kiyoomi”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa comfort #sakusa x y/n #msby sakusa #sakusa #kiyoomi #anime #sakusa fluff #sakusa smut #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #sakusa x reader #sakusa x you #sakusa scenarios #bby bo sakusa #hq sakusa #sakusa fanart #sakusa fanfiction

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dreamwritesimagines · 10 months

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Garden of Secrets [31] - Chamomile

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

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

Summary: A ballroom can be a place of reconciliation.

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

Word Count: 4400

Series Masterlist

The following days after that night were interesting.

Granted things were still quite tense between you two, but perhaps because now you knew that neither of you wanted to walk away from this no matter how terrible that fight had been, there was also an unspoken agreement of peace.

You passed by the hallway, fixing your gloves as you went downstairs and as soon as you reached the foyer, you saw Benedict entering the house.

“Husband,” you greeted him in a half joking manner as you walked past him, ignoring the way your heart skipped a beat.

“Wife,” he joked back, making you bite down on your smile but you stopped dead on your tracks as the thought hit you, and you turned around.

“Benedict wait,” you said, making him stop at the bottom of the stairs before he turned around as well to look at you.

“Yes?”

“We have the Coleshill ball tonight,” you said. “Don’t forget.”

“I haven’t,” he assured you. “At eight, I know. Are we going together?”

“I’ll be back before evening,” you said, shifting your weight. “So we can.”

He nodded and you cleared your throat, motioning at him.

“I mean if it’s fine with you, that is.”

“It’s fine—of course it’s fine,” he said quickly. “I just asked because you’re leaving, so…”

“To my uncle’s,” you replied and offered him a small smile. “Any luck with Lottie?”

“Not at all,” he said with a sigh. “And you?”

“I went there yesterday, she just sent a maid downstairs to tell me she was ill so she ‘couldn’t talk to me’,” you used air quotes and Benedict hummed.

“Same here,” he said. “Anthony says he saw her for a moment, she went to the drawing room to tell him she didn’t want to talk to him, and went straight back to her room.”

“So she’s not speaking to any of us,” you clicked her tongue. “Great. I’ll talk to her during tonight’s ball, it’s fine.”

“You sound confident.”

“I try,” you murmured. “But if I get to talk to her, I’ll tell her the truth. Just so you know.”

“I doubt we have much of a choice on that, she already knows the general idea,” he commented and you shifted your weight.

“Sorry about that,” you said. “I really didn’t know she was there. I was arguing with Josie, and…”

“Not your fault,” he said, waving a hand in the air. “Don’t worry about it. And Josie?”

“She’ll come around,” you said. “By the way, if she knows then Bess knows as well. And probably Andrew.”

“Alright,” he said and cleared his throat. “I was thinking maybe I should talk to Josie.”

Your eyes widened. “What?” you asked. “Why on earth would you do that?”

“I think she’d want an explanation about this whole thing.”

“Josie isn’t the type to listen to explanations.”

“I’ll try anyway,” he said and thought for a moment. “I should probably try it with a body armor though.”

“She’s not going to stab you,” you said, and shook your head. “She’s not. She knows better.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

“Both,” you muttered and took a deep breath. “Just—you know. It’ll be fine but be careful.”

“I will.”

“Also make sure there are witnesses around but it’ll be fine,” you added and he pulled his brows together.

“You are terrible at assuring people.”

“I’m working on it,” you admitted and clapped your hands together, offering him a smile. “It’ll be fine, hooray!”

He paused for a moment and blinked a couple of times, then nodded quite enthusiastically.

“Baby steps,” he said as if trying to encourage you. “We’ll get you there.”

You grimaced, making him chuckle and you both stared at each other for a moment, then you frowned, trying to snap out of it.

“Anyway, I’d better go.”

“Right,” Benedict said, shaking his head slightly. “See you when you come back.”

“Sure thing,” you said and you walked out of the house, then approached the carriage as the coachman opened the door for you.

“Where to, ma’am?”

“My uncle’s house,” you said and got in the carriage. “Thank you.”

When you got to your uncle’s house, there was no sign of Teddy or your aunt, and you looked around, then made your way to the closed door of your uncle’s study to knock on it.

“Come in!” he called out and you opened the door to peek your head in.

“Good morning uncle.”

“Oh my Clover is here!” he smiled and got up from his seat. You walked to him to hug him with a laugh.

“Were you busy?”

“Not at all, just going over…” he motioned at his desk. “Never mind. Your aunt and Teddy are outside at the park.”

“Oh that’s alright,” you said. “I was actually hoping I could talk to you?”

“Of course, sit down, sit down!” he said and called for the maid passing by the door, then asked her for some cookies and tea. You sat down on the sofa and he came to take his place on the armchair.

“To what do I owe this wonderful surprise?”

“I need your wisdom.”

“It’s at your service,” he joked as the maid walked in, carrying a tray.

“Thank you,” you said as she placed the cookies and tea on the small coffee table, then curtsied and left the room. You took a sip of your tea and leaned back.

“Any other letters?”

“None,” he said. “As I’ve told you.”

“That’s a relief at least.”

“You have nothing to worry about,” he assured you. “Now, what do you need my wisdom for?”

You looked down at the tea cup in your hand, then raised your glances.

“You and auntie have been married for a long time,” you started. “And auntie says you two fell in love after your first dance.”

“We did,” he said with a smile. “I thought I was dreaming when I first saw her.”

You licked your lips. “And you’re…you still love each other.”

“We do.”

“So you’ve never had a fight or anything right?”

He tilted his head. “Clover, what is this about?”

You took a deep breath, then cleared your throat.

“Hypothetically speaking,” you started. “Let’s say you and auntie had a fight and hypothetically it was a big fight and hypothetically you said things.”

“A lot of hypotheticals.”

“I woke up curious,” you replied and he chuckled.

“Is everything alright between you and Benedict?”

“Sure,” you said. “So? What would you do if that happened?”

He reached out to grab a cookie, then hummed.

“To answer your first question, we did have fights, me and your aunt,” he said and you frowned.

“You have the perfect marriage.”

“Perfect marriages don’t just happen, Clover,” he said. “Especially at the start of the said marriage. Yes we were in love, we still are but it doesn’t mean we didn’t have arguments. Every couple is bound to have them sooner or later.”

“Why did you have a fight?”

“Well, marriage is a huge change in one’s life. Takes a bit of time to get used to,” he said. “The important thing is to never forget how much you love the person you’re married to, no matter what you’re fighting over.”

You pressed your lips together and he gave you a small smile.

“How bad was the fight?”

“I uh—I said things,” you admitted and paused for a moment. “Not necessarily nice things.”

“Ah,” he said. “An apology could work, perhaps?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Did you try?”

“…No,” you said after a beat and sat up straighter. “I have another question.”

“Ask away dear.”

“How did you know?” you asked. “That you were in love with auntie?”

He thought for a couple of seconds, then shrugged his shoulders.

“I suppose I realized that no one else but her made me happier,” he said. “When I imagined my future, anything else was a detail as long as she was there. She was my first thought as I woke up and last thought as I went to sleep and I couldn’t…I couldn’t imagine a scenario where I didn’t have her in my life.”

You blinked a couple of times; the idea was way too familiar to you. You swallowed thickly, then let out a huff of breath and buried your palms into your eyes.

“He loves you,” he said, making you lower your hands. “Anyone could see that. A fight won’t change things as long as you two talk about what happened.”

“That’s not my strongest suit,” you murmured and he chuckled.

“No harm in trying.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Perhaps because it is easy?” he asked. “If you’re wondering the key to a good marriage, it’s knowing when to listen and when to apologize.”

You slipped a little on the sofa and hummed.

“What if I try to apologize and he doesn’t want to hear it?”

“No offense Clover but out of the two of you, I’d say it’s you who doesn’t want to hear apologies and not him.”

You pouted your lips.

“That’s not…” you started to protest, then let out a noise of agreement and shrugged your shoulders. “Yeah, you might be right about that.”

Coleshill Ball was an absolute blast. Lord Easton had apparently decided to attend along with Lucy and Henry, and he was instantly surrounded by many people trying to talk to him. He had only had a couple of seconds to greet you and Benedict before his many admirers started talking over each other, eager to have a conversation with him. The orchestra was very talented as well, so everyone seemed to be having fun, dancing and socializing.

Everyone except you, Benedict and Anthony. The three of you found yourselves huddled in the corner of the room while Lottie adamantly ignored you, busy with her conversation with Lord Finney after their dance. Lord Finney hadn’t stopped eyeing Lottie with a small smirk you didn’t like since the end of their dance, and you could swear if you tried to pass by Anthony’s eyesight, you would have dropped dead from a thousand invisible daggers he was glaring at Lord Finney whereas Benedict looked nearly impatient, biting inside his cheek.

“Can I stab him?” you asked to no one in particular and both Benedict and Anthony answered at the same time.

“No.”

“Yes.”

You looked up at Benedict. “The head of the family said yes.”

“Now you want to listen to someone?” he asked you. “Not to mention him of all people? You don’t even like him.”

“I’m standing right here Ben.”

“She doesn’t like you Anthony,” Benedict deadpanned without so much as sparing him a glance and you made a face.

“I have no idea what you speak of,” you mused. “I’ve been nothing but nice to Anthony.”

Anthony leaned forward to look at you around Benedict’s arm, a look of disbelief etched in his features. “This is you being nice?”

“You’re standing here alive and well, so yes.”

Benedict suppressed a laugh, and you took a deep breath, pursing your lips.

“You know what, that’s enough,” you said. “The next dance will not start for a half an hour, I’ll go there and talk to her.”

“And Finney?”

“I’ll threaten him,” you said and Benedict nodded.

“Want me to come with you?”

“I can intimidate people by myself Benedict, have some faith,” you told him and walked away from them to approach Lottie and Lord Finney.

“Lottie,” you said as you reached them. “Good evening.”

She stole a look at you, pouting. “Good evening to you too Mrs. Bridgerton.”

“…Fair enough,” you muttered and nodded in Finney’s direction. “Leave us.”

“Mrs. Bridgerton—”

You turned to him, your eyes narrowing into a cold glare as your voice lowered into a growl.

“I said leave.”

A look of intimidation crossed his eyes and he swallowed thickly, then took a step back and bowed his head before walking away from you both.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Lottie said and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I’m not interested in being nice,” you commented and gave her a small smile. “Can we talk Lottie? Please?”

Her brows furrowed for a moment, that pout still apparent on her lips.

“Five minutes is all I ask,” you said. “I’d like to explain myself if you’d let me.”

She thought for a moment, then heaved a sigh.

“Fine.”

“Great,” you said, a smile lighting up your face, “Let’s go outside.”

She followed you out of the ballroom and you both stepped outside to the garden. Thankfully there weren’t people around which was no wonder considering how fun the ball was inside, so you approached the nearest bench and sat down, Lottie taking her spot next to you.

“So?” she asked. “If you’re going to tell me any more lies—”

“I’m not,” you cut her off and shook your head. “I’m not going to lie to you, and I’m sorry that I did. I really am.”

That seemed to take her by surprise and she frowned slightly.

“And I know you heard my and Josie’s argument but I don’t think of you gullible or anything, it was just something I said because I was frustrated with Josie and the whole thing. I hope you know that.”

She nodded and thought for a moment.

“Tell me everything,” she said. “From the very beginning.”

So you did. If anything, it was such a relief that you felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders, and when you were finished a silence fell upon you both before Lottie let out a breath.

“Wow.”

“Yeah,” you said. “Exactly. You know what the ton thinks of me, they say Benedict married me because I trapped him or lured him away from you, or I planned it—”

“That’s not true.”

“And if they thought a scandal happened, you know what they would say about me,” you said. “So we told no one. The only reason we told Anthony was because he—he needed to know, considering everything. As I said, even my family doesn’t know.”

“Did you not trust me?”

“That’s not the reason,” you shook your head. “Lottie, you were so happy for us. I just couldn’t…I couldn’t bring myself to disappoint you and I’m sure Benedict feels the same.”

“You could never disappoint me,” she said. “I was just—I was sad.”

“I know.”

She nibbled on her lip and took a deep breath.

“Well,” she said. “At least it’s a relief that it wasn’t all a lie.”

“What?”

“Benedict and you have a love marriage.”

You raised your brows. “Uh, Lottie—”

“You two got married because you were caught kissing.”

“That’s lust Lottie, not love,” you said in a haste and she rolled her eyes at you.

“You honestly can’t see how he looks at you?” she asked. “Or how you look at him?”

Your heart skipped a beat and you sat up straighter. “Well because we had to pretend to be in love—”

“No one is that good of a pretender,” she said. “Not even you. And I’ve known Benedict for a long time, so I’d be able to tell if he were in fact pretending. It’s alright if you can’t see it yet, but I will be here to say I told you so when you finally realize that it is in fact a love marriage.”

You tried to swallow the nervous lump in your throat and averted your glances.

“Benedict and I are…” you trailed off. “We’re bound.”

“By marriage?”

“By fate.”

“By your hearts as well,” she pointed out and smiled at you, then pulled you into a hug. You hugged her back, and heaved a sigh when she pulled back.

“I’d better go, otherwise my next dance partner will assume I’m avoiding him,” she sighed and stood up. “Are you coming?”

“I think I’ll get some fresh air, it helps me think,” you said. “But I could also intimidate your next dance partner if you’d like.”

“I don’t wish to be rude,” she told you with a giggle and you saw Anthony stepping out of the house, making you tilt your head. Lottie turned around as he made his way to you.

“Charlotte, can we—?”

“No because I’m still angry at you,” Lottie said. “And I’m angry at Benny too, make sure to tell him that please.”

You pressed your lips together to contain your laughter at Anthony’s puzzled expression, but before he could say anything, Lottie stuck her nose in the air and walked past him to go back into the house. Anthony threw his head back and heaved a sigh while you leaned back, resting your elbows on the back of the bench.

“She forgave you?” he asked and you nodded.

“Yeah.”

“And she refuses to talk to me.”

“I have a more charming personality than you do.”

“Not really,” he said. “I mean just because your marriage is turbulent, doesn’t mean you should go around making others’ the same as well.”

You pulled your brows together in confusion. “You’re not married, in case it has escaped your notice.”

“I could’ve been,” he pointed out, “if I could get some spare time from the string of scandals you all throw at me. First you and Benedict, then Daphne and Simon, and now Colin wants to marry Miss Marina.”

“Wait really?” you asked. “It feels like yesterday he was getting all nervous to even talk to her. They grow up so fast.”

“Colin is older than you, Y/N.”

“That’s irrelevant,” you said and he came to sit beside you.

“So yeah, if everyone could stop for a moment to let me at least court Charlotte without getting in the way, it would be much appreciated.”

You smiled slightly and shrugged your shoulders.

“Patience is a virtue they say,” you said. “Perhaps waiting patiently will teach you a valuable lesson in the meantime.”

He scoffed. “Have you ever waited patiently for anything?”

“I’ve been waiting patiently for this conversation to end ever since you opened your mouth,” you retorted and rolled your eyes. “But if anything, she wants to marry you too.”

He turned to you, hope shining in his eyes. “She said that?”

“She mentioned it, yes,” you said. “So until she decides to forgive you, send her flowers, proclaim your undying love on a bent knee, whatever it is that in love people do.”

He nodded slowly, then cleared his throat.

“Speaking of that,” he said. “Is everything okay between Benedict and you?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” you said and stole a glance at him. “What did he tell you?”

“He mentioned that you two had an argument but judging by the tortured look on his face for the last weeks up until a couple of days ago, I’d say it’s something more than a simple argument.”

You bit on your nail, keeping your gaze on the house.

“I’m not very pleasant when I’m angry,” you said and he raised his brows.

“If it makes you feel any better, you’re not very pleasant when you’re not angry either,” he stated and you turned your head to make a face at him.

“I would say I’m more pleasant than you but let’s be honest, it’s not like you’re setting a high standard there” you told him, making his lips twitch in amusement.

“Fair enough,” he said. “But just so you know; whatever it is that is bothering you, whatever happened between you and Benedict, if my help is needed in any way it’s at your service.”

You blinked a couple of times, furrowing your brows.

“…Why?”

“Because you’re family.”

A tentative smile curled your lips and your eyes darted over his face to get a hint of insincerity, but it wasn’t there.

“Thank you,” you mumbled after a pause and he shook his head.

“Don’t mention it,” he said and you saw Benedict stepping outside. Anthony turned to look at him, then stood up.

“I’ll try my chances to talk to Charlotte,” he said and walked away from you, passing by Benedict to get in the house. Benedict put his hands in his pockets and approached you.

“Hello there.”

“Hello,” you said and stuck your nose in the air in an exaggerated smug manner. “Lottie forgave me.”

He tilted his head. “Really?”

“Yes but she’s still angry at you and Anthony,” you said and he hummed.

“That explains why she glared at me when she got back in the ballroom just now.”

You grinned. “I’ll put in a good word for you.”

“I appreciate that,” he said with a chuckle and motioned at the bench. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” you said and he sat beside you, making you bite down on your lip, stealing a look at him.

“Ben?”

“Hm?”

“I’m…” you paused for a moment, your heart climbing up to your throat in nervousness, making you take a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.”

A look of surprise crossed his face and you sat up straighter, turning to see him better.

“I don’t…I don’t really pay attention to the words I say when I’m angry, which is no excuse but—I’m working on it,” you said, nodding as if trying to encourage yourself. “And I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean any of that.”

A soft light appeared in his eyes and he nodded.

“Your apology is heard and accepted,” he quoted you, making you frown in doubt.

“That easily?”

“Mm hm,” he said. “That easily.”

“I would’ve made me suffer more.”

“Good thing we’re complete opposites then,” he said and you bit back a smile.

“Good thing for me at the very least,” you commented as the beginning notes of the orchestra’s dance tune reached your ears. Benedict stole a look at you.

“Do you want to dance?”

“I don’t feel like going back inside,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “Too crowded.”

“Who said we needed to go back inside?” he asked as he stood up to offer his hand. A scoff of laughter escaped from your mouth, and your eyes went from his hand up to his face to see whether he was jesting or not. That playful lopsided grin curled his lips as you placed your hand in his, and he pulled you up to your feet.

“You’re not serious.”

“Oh I absolutely am,” he said as he entwined his fingers with yours and you let him twirl you before he pulled you closer, a giggle climbing up your throat despite you trying to repress it.

You two were standing much closer than this dance -or any dance- required, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. You rested a hand on his broad chest, feeling the thrumming of his heart underneath your fingertips and he sneaked an arm around your waist, burying his nose into your hair while you two swayed slowly with the tune.

“I missed this,” Benedict murmured into your hair and you closed your eyes for a moment, inhaling his pleasant scent as discreetly as you could, all your senses full of him.

“Dancing?”

“Holding you,” he said softly and you smiled, opening your eyes but not pulling back.

“It’s peaceful,” you whispered and he hummed, caressing the back of your hand with his thumb, the simple gesture making your stomach do a happy flip.

“It is.”

“I missed it too,” you admitted, your voice quiet. “It’s been—”

“Hey lovebirds!” Henry’s voice cut through you and you pulled back, both you and Benedict turning to look at him. Lucy elbowed Henry.

“I told you not to interrupt!”

“They can continue that later on,” Henry said as you felt your cheeks burn, shifting your weight before you managed to smile at them.

“Hello.”

“We have a party to catch, come on,” Henry held up an envelope. “Apparently Jane felt like throwing a celebration for the sake of it all of a sudden, Thomas just sent word. You’re both invited as well.”

“Everyone is already there,” Lucy added and Henry grinned.

“Gordon is coming as well—we’ll go get the carriage,” he said and they both walked away from you. Benedict heaved a sigh.

“I don’t think—” you paused for a moment. “I think I’ll skip this one but you should go.”

“Oh no, I don’t have to be there,” he said in a haste and you smiled slightly.

“Benedict,” you said. “Go have fun, it’s been a while. I would’ve come with if it were any other time, but I think I should try to make things better between Lottie and Anthony—don’t tell him I said that.”

He pulled his brows together. “Sorry, you’ll try to make things better between them?”

“Yes.”

“Who are you and what did you do to my wife?”

Your heart skipped a beat at that but you bit back a smile, then heaved a sigh.

“What can I say? I’m very compassionate.”

He shot you a playful look before pointing at the house with his thumb. “Was there something in the lemonade?”

“I feel responsible,” you said. “And I don’t know, he’s—he’s family, so I should just at least try to patch things between them. Put in a good word and such.”

That made him smile before he cleared his throat.

“I don’t have to go, it’s just some party,” he insisted. “I’ll help you.”

“Lottie isn’t talking to you either, I doubt you’d be much of a help,” you reminded him and let out a laugh. “Go. I swear this is not me setting you up for…for a fight in the morning. I’ll make things better between those two and then go home. I doubt I’ll be able to talk to you when we go into that ballroom anyway, no reason for you to come with.”

He thought for a moment. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” you said. “Go have fun. I’ll come with you to the other one, I promise.”

He looked at you as if trying to read your mind and took a deep breath.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll be home early, okay? Definitely before you go to sleep.”

“Alright,” you said. “Well I have a very stubborn friend to convince, so if you’ll excuse me...”

He smiled softly, then held your hand to place a kiss on the back of it, making your heartbeat faster.

“I’ll see you in a couple of hours then.”

“Deal,” you said, your cheeks still burning. “Have fun, give everyone my regards.”

“Good luck with those two,” he said, nodding in the direction of the house before walking away from you and you heaved a sigh, then licked your lips.

“Alright,” you muttered, painfully aware of the smile on your face as you made your way to the house. “This should be interesting.”

Chapter 32

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic

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queeniecook · 4 months

Text

June 20 - Part 2

I was downstairs in what Caleb calls our sitting room when I felt it. The pain shot through my body, worse than any cramp I'd experienced except for maybe during my miscarriage. I didn't want to think about that.

I had to brace myself on the wall as I focused on breathing and calming myself. "CALEB!!!" I screamed, thankfully with Caleb, he can be almost instantly there when I call him.

He helped me turn around and I smiled at him. "It's time."

Caleb stood there in disbelief for a few seconds. "It is?"

I nodded my head, wanting to get Annalise and Dakota called as soon as possible.

Walking was not the most comfortable experience in the world. I thought walking before today had been awkward but walking while in labor sucked. Caleb guided me to our room as Caleb called to Lily that it was time to call the others.

Having a vampire doctor has some advantages, like her speed to arrive when needed.

"Oh yes, you are most certainly in labor, Vera." Annalise said with a smile. "I'll get a mop."

I could feel the contents of my water all over my carpet and myself. Poor Caleb was kneeling behind me, rubbing my back - no doubt getting it on himself as well. I felt the strong urge for a bath, which Annalise said is good for me. It'll help my body relax.

After Caleb helped me take a bath and he changed his pants, he helped me upstairs because there's something else we had to do.

Hugging Josie close to me helped me feel more at ease for a few moments, but I knew I wouldn't see her or Lucky again until after I gave birth. Rahmi was going to take them to her farm, just in case James did show up and managed to get inside, Caleb and I didn't want them there. They'd be safer somewhere else and I know Rahmi and the kids will take good care of them. I just hate parting with them, especially my Josie.

<-previous/next ->

#the grant legacy #ts4 legacy #generation 2 #vera grant-vatore #vera grant #caleb vatore #josie grant #annalise blake #valeb #ts4 pregnancy #ts4 #thesims4 #sims 4 #sims4 #ts4 story #sims4 story #sims4 storytelling #simsstories #sims4 legacy

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iovesia · 10 months

Text

AFTER HOURS.

𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔. nsfw alphabet with john constantine.

—⠀john constantine⠀𝒙⠀ fem!reader.⠀|⠀smut.

warnings. size kink. dacryphilia. corruption kink. panty stealing. overstimulation. orgasm denial. humiliation kink. implied god complex. bit of mean!constantine.

josie's note . ⁺ ˖ ⌒ back on my constantine brainrot arc, so i had to whip up these little headcanons. template found here — hope you enjoy ♡ !!

#. requests are open. ⠀masterlist.⠀keanu reeves masterlist.

aftercare — what they’re like after sex?

Constantine’s not putting a lot of effort into aftercare, hate to say it. After sex, he’ll begrudgingly let you cuddle into his chest, and offer you a drag of his cigarette. Surprisingly, Constantine enjoys the occasional pillowtalk (or.. just talking at you— but his quiet, raspy voice is music to your ears). He’s more relaxed after sex and lets his guard down, and this is one of the only moments where he’ll truly be vulnerable with you.

⠀⠀⠀

body part — their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s?

His favourite body part of his, is his hands. They amplify his size kink, seeing them wrap around your neck, or cup your breasts only makes his cock twitch. He loves watching them stretch your needy cunt. Even better when he shoves his fingers in your mouth, groaning softly as your tongue swirls around his digits, and you taste your own juices.

His favourite body part of yours, is your eyes (.. random sidenote, he’s a tits guy). Constantine loves making you cry, and having you stare up at him through dampened lashes, with your desperate, doe eyes filled with tears— it’s a sight he has imprinted in his memory.

⠀⠀⠀

cum — anything to do with cum, basically.

Not to get too graphic, but Constantine has thick cum, and he cums a lot. Constantine loves to cum on your face, or your chest. Something about seeing your innocence tainted, and covered in his cum gets him hard again. On rare occasions, he likes to cum inside you, filling you to the brim.

“Don’t waste a goddamn drop,” he scolds, his fingers collecting the cum that dribbled out, and sliding it back into your sensitive pussy.

⠀⠀⠀

dirty secret — a dirty secret or fantasy of theirs?

This is etching into perv!Constantine territory, but he’s definitely stolen some of your panties. He’s jacked off with them, and he’s not very secretive about it, because he tells you his dirty secrets just to watch you burn in embarrassment.

He’s open to the idea of making a sextape with you, or taking polaroids of you. It’s his own weird way of being intimate with you.. almost like his own twisted version of a wedding ring— having footage of you two fucking.

⠀⠀⠀

experience — how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?

This man has experience. Living and breathing demonic entities every damn day, Constantine has made his way through plenty of women.. Or should I say, succubi? Point is, he definitely knows what he’s doing— and he knows too. Constantine wants you to praise him on how well he’s making you feel, how you curl your toes only by his words, let alone touching you.

⠀⠀⠀

favourite position — this goes without saying.

He’s a little basic, his two go-to positions are doggy and missionary. For doggy, he loves pressing your face into the pillow, and having a hold on your ass as he bullies his huge cock into your poor cunt. It makes him feel so dominant, watching the way you squirm under him, unable to look at him but still beg for more.

Constantine also loves the good old missionary/mating press when he’s feeling a little more intimate. He forces you to maintain eye-contact, wanting to watch every little reaction on your pretty face. Constantine has your thighs pressed up to your chest, allowing him to thrust deeper into you, and keep you trapped under his grasp.

⠀⠀⠀

goofy — are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous?

Immediately, no. Granted, he makes a few sarcastic comments at your expense— but other than that, he’s 100% serious through sex. His brows are furrowed, and his lips are parted to release quiet grunts into your ear.

⠀⠀⠀

hair — how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes?

Constantine keeps it maintained down there for the most part, but he never shaves fully. If it desperately needs trimming, he’ll trim it a little. Constantine has a very faint happy trail that leads down to his black, (slightly) curly pubes.

⠀⠀⠀

intimacy — how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect

At the beginning of your relationship, Constantine was very poor at it. Having spent most of his life up until this point having meaningless sex, he didn’t understand why you were so.. clingy when you two had sex.

But slowly he learned— he’ll wrap his hand around yours when he’s plowing into you, or he’ll press soft kisses to your neck. Although his hips are snapping harshly against you, he tries to keep a gentle grip with his hands (cupping your breasts, or getting ahold of your waist, etc).

⠀⠀⠀

jack off — masturbation headcanon?

Before he met you, Constantine would masturbate more often, having constantly been under some kind of stress. But his dirty habits died down, because whenever he’s horny he just comes to you.

However, some days when you’re not around, and he happens to be alone.. Constantine’s imagination runs a little wild, and he can’t help the blood rushing to his cock at the thought of.. well, you, of course!

⠀⠀⠀

kink — what are one or more of their kinks?

Cockwarming. He loves watching to see how long it’ll take before you crack, and whine and plead for him to touch you. You rest your head in the crook of his neck, occasionally clenching around his cock— hoping it’ll tease him enough to get him to just bend you over a table and fuck your brains out.

Dacryphilia and corruption. This man lives to see you cry, and sniffle. You’re just a little lamb to the slaughter, and he’s the big bad wolf. Being plagued with endless guilt and eternal damnation made you all the more appealing to him. An innocent little thing like you had no business being around a guy like him— and that’s what made it so much more exciting. You are his gift to taint and corrupt as he pleases.

Overstimulation. Tying back into his dacryphilia kink— he loves to overstimulate you. Constantine could be between your legs for hours if he had the time, pressing his hot mouth against your puffy cunt, sucking on your bundle of nerves till you came over and over again. You cry out, hand tugging at his black locks as another orgasm washes over you.

“Give me one more, c’mon, bunny.”

⠀⠀⠀

location — what are their favourite places to do it?

Again, he’s a little basic, and a private person. Constantine enjoys it the most, doing it in the bedroom, either at yours or his place. Those four walls allow you two to enter your own little world, where you can be as loud as you want, and he can be as cruel as he wants.

Anywhere else in his apartment— desk, kitchen table, couch, it’s all free game.

⠀⠀⠀

motivation — what turns them on, gets them going?

Tears. When you beg him. It gives him such an ego boost, seeing you so needy and desperate for him, and him only. He also loves praise, Constantine wants you to tell him how good he’s making you feel, and how you want him and only him.

⠀⠀⠀

no — something they wouldn’t go? turn offs?

He won’t do anything that hurts you too much. Granted he’s a bit of a sadist, and he’ll spank you, or gently slap your face— but he won’t use any knives or weapons, or anything that will greatly scar you. Believe it or not, Constantine does love you, and he already deals with enough violence on the day to day, he won’t be turned on by bringing it into the bedroom.

⠀⠀⠀

oral — (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Contrary to popular belief, Constantine is good at eating pussy. Some nights he prefers it over receiving, just to watch you slowly fall apart under his tongue . Normally, he doesn’t have an explicit preference, he likes to give and receive. When you’re giving him head, he still likes to remain in control: grabbing your hair, guiding your head and talking you through the whole thing.

⠀⠀⠀

pace — are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?

Constantine is rough, and slow. His thrusts are always so deep, you swore you could feel him in your stomach. His pace varies on how he’s feeling that day— if he’s pissed off, and taking it out on you, it’s gonna be fast and rough, and you’re not gonna be able to feel your legs. If he’s feeling particularly playful and mean, he switches up his pace just to keep you on edge.

⠀⠀⠀

quickie — their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.

He’s not a fan, and prefers to hold out until you guys are back at his place. He likes to take his time with you, wanting to enjoy the full experience.

That’s not to say he doesn’t enjoy the occasional quickie at Midnite’s bar or wherever else you horny lovebirds decide to get it on.

⠀⠀⠀

risk — are they game to experiment? do they take risks? Etc.

Gonna be honest, he’s a little iffy about experimenting. Constantine likes what he likes, and he’s not as open-minded as you think when it comes to trying new things— but if it’s something he suggests, well you better hope on board with it.

⠀⠀⠀

stamina — how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?

A good 2-3 rounds— Constantine can last. That man has so much pent up stress, it’s gonna take a hot second for him to let it all out. Constantine wants you to be left an overstimulated mess by the end of it all, and for him to be so relaxed he could pass out for a millennium.

⠀⠀⠀

toys — do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?

No, he doesn’t own any toys. And he gets a little offended when he finds your vibrator or whatever other toy you have lying around. His God complex is a little bruised, and now you have to pay.

He makes you use them on yourself in front of him, telling you to “show him what exactly you do when he’s not around”.

During sex, he’ll use your vibrator on your clit, only making you squirm and cry more— your sensitive cunt can only take so much! And god forbid you owned a dildo. Constantine’s more than happy to embarrass you further and fuck you silly with your own toy.

“You wanted the toy so bad, now take it.”

⠀⠀⠀

unfair — how much they like to tease?

He’s so evil. Of course, he loves to tease you! Constantine is constantly edging you, bringing you to a near climax before removing his touch, and making you lose your nearing orgasm. He rinses and repeats this cruel cycle until your waterline is brimmed with tears and you can’t even babble a coherent sentence.

“Poor thing, you wanna cum don’t you? Too fucking bad.”

⠀⠀⠀

volume — how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.

Constantine’s not too loud in terms of moaning. He groans and pants in your ear, keeping the volume to a minimum— the rasp in his voice sends chills down your spine. He’s a very loud dirty talker though, and will not shut the fuck up throughout sex. Constantine loves to degrade you.

⠀⠀⠀

x-ray — let’s see what’s going on under those clothes!

He’s hung, I don’t care, it’s true! He’s at least 7-8 inches long (and that’s not even when he’s hard.. ehem..), and his girth… lord, your poor cunt is fucking stretched when he first slips inside you. You’re so tightly wrapped around him, and your nails scratch along his back as you try and take him fully inside you.

⠀⠀⠀

yearning — how high is their sex drive?

He’s a pretty horny man, you two could go at it every night, or second night. He’s getting a little older, so his sex drive dies down after a while, but for the most part you find yourself bent over his desk, with skin slapping echoing off the walls.

⠀⠀⠀

zzz — how quickly do they fall asleep afterwards?

He waits for you to fall asleep first. Like I said, Constantine enjoys pillowtalk, and will utter almost all his thoughts to you, and you can’t help but flutter your eyes closed as you enjoy his rambling. While you’re asleep, Constantine just admires your soft features, and for a second, he really comes to terms with just how much he really adores you.

໒꒰ྀིྀི ੭ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵ ꒱ྀི੭ — taglist : @desoolate @hamburgerslippers @alwaysinblck @emosludge @nwheregirl @beansricejc @sughcashsaiki @namjoons-crabssss @scream-queen-25 @slutforsoldierboy @hamburgerslippers

let me know if anyone wishes to be added/removed !!

#john constantine x reader #john constantine imagine #john wick x reader #john constantine x y/n #john constantine smut #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine

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laylajeffany · 1 month

Text

Grant Us Peace, Forevermore | Chaos Universe OneShot for @endofn1ght

Summary: Wednesday and her fellow Raven (OC/Emiliana) engage in witchcraft, looking for additional peace after the horrific events of the past year continue to weigh on them. WC: 4.9k (part of layla's <5k challenge that barely makes it lol) Rated: E

Note: New Lovely Thorns content coming in the next day or so, for now enjoy revisiting another OC from the Chaos universe as @endofn1ght prompted Chaos-verse Wednesday with Emiliana doing witchcraft. Thank you for all the support and forcing me to analyze some of my work in ways I hadn't previously thought about. This is part of my less than 5k writing challenge of prompts that I'm only allowed to work on at my place of employment when my free time is actually free (was a little less than usual over the last week which is why this took so long).

Set between Wednesday's birthday at the end of Chapter 31 and the start of the epilogue; end of semester / late April-ish at Nevermore - enjoy!

Wednesday kicked the final bit of gravel on her way up to the front porch of one of her favorite places. Emiliana’s cottage looked somehow smaller in the late spring; with everything finally green, the large shade cast from centuries-old woods dwarfed the structure considerably. Augustus slithered down her wrist, excited to enter the home, irritate Piper and greet his favorite turtles. The windows were open on the front, and she assumed likely the French doors on the back. Glad that Emiliana was letting in fresh air, as sometimes the house took on a more powerful odor of stale cigarettes when it was just her home for a while, Wednesday was surprised to have to knock – that she hadn’t heard her coming.

The door opened, revealing a frazzled looking Emiliana. It wasn’t terribly out of the ordinary to find her hair tangled and in just her long, black skirt and too-loose tank top, but she looked particularly greasy that afternoon. Wednesday bit back a sigh instead of a hello as she considered she’d need to shove her in the shower before they did anything productive to relieve the nagging sensation swirling around in her gut. “What is the day?”

Struggling not to smile, Wednesday regarded, “It’s Thursday.”

“I have not gone mad, then. I hate it when you do this – you send me into mild cardiac arrest. You are unharmed?”

Nodding, Wednesday stepped in as she closed the door – spotting a mess in the kitchen, a sink filled with unwashed dishes, a pile of laundry on the sofa, and the floor of the living room covered in remnants of a spell. Her entryway altar was a disaster and Piper was nowhere to be seen – probably avoiding the chaos. She watched as Emiliana struggled to place Wednesday, and tried to read her energy at the same time. She wondered if Emiliana could sense just how unease she truly was.

“I attempted to call and text all morning. I finished working with Aunt Larissa on the proposal for the new council duties, and she doesn’t want me to start anything new until next week. Enid has physical therapy and then her rehearsal. Mother is working with the Doves on oaths, father is entertaining Fangs that are in town, Josie is doing real administration, and you know I simply can’t be bothered with the Nightshades.”

“I am your last resort, then,” Emiliana crossed her arms, her expression mostly playful.

“No,” Wednesday argued. “I just know that you prefer your alone time unless it’s scheduled and was explaining why I’m interrupting…” She looked around at the mess. ��This.”

The older Raven gave a chuckle, tugging Wednesday to her and placing an obnoxious kiss on the top of her head. Augustus immediately tore off in search of the yellow and white snake he longed to bother. “You are the one person who can always interrupt me, little bird, regardless of how it fazes my mental state. I am afraid we will have to take most activities upstairs or outside as it is a touch of a mess in here…”

Wednesday popped a brow. “Just a touch? Em – go shower. You’re gross.”

She gave a little cackle into her smoker’s cough. “Indeed, I am. The week has flown by, apparently. I shall see you on the other side of clean,” She didn’t fight the direction, and took to the bathroom with a small salute.

Once she disappeared, Wednesday hurried to start picking things up. It was far from her responsibility, but as Emiliana had picked up so many of the pieces of her life that spring, it hardly seemed enough or like a burden to care for her. Realizing the laundry on the couch wasn’t to be folded, Wednesday rolled her eyes and stuffed it into the washing machine, then moved to unload the half-full dishwasher that Emiliana had been taking things out of instead of putting them away throughout the week. That didn’t take long, and she made haste to reload and run a cycle there, too.

She was sweeping salt away from her to put in a jar after getting the majority of the spell on the floor picked up when Emiliana came out with her wet hair curling into ringlets. She opened the French doors, as hoped, and wondered, “Might we start with music?”

Tilting her head a little, Wednesday decided that was more than appropriate. Her goals for the late April recovery period were to get back to some of her long-abandoned hobbies, and starting a spell session with Emiliana by playing her favorite instrument would be a remarkable way to return to it. Playing music had once been one of her only ways of settling her spirit, and to play with a fellow Raven would be helpful.

She moved it to the end of the couch, wishing Thing were there to turn the pages as Emiliana set up a collapsible music stand for her and placed the selection she wanted there. “I have been composing something I shall play for you after this warmup, and perhaps you can come up with the strings to match?”

“I confess, original music content hasn’t been my forte over my studies, but I would be willing to try,” Wednesday agreed with a small shrug. Emiliana slipped onto her piano bench, wiggled her fingers, and counted them down twice before starting the melody to a famous duet.

Wednesday came in on the third line of music, her bow sweeping over the strings as her fingers moved in time up top. She couldn’t help the smile that came over her features as she got into it – the old habit returning, a swell of joy filling her from the outside in.

The first selection was about eight minutes long, and as it wrapped, Emiliana clumsily dashed over to Wednesday, hugging her tightly. “I love you.”

Grinning into her shoulder, Wednesday gave something like a nuzzle. She considered what she knew about the other Raven that had impacted them – how David Bowie’s music had been the soundtrack of her life. There was something distinctly soothing about music to someone so dark-coded as they, and she wondered if Goody had preferences as well, even if they were liturgical.

“Play me your new song?”

Nodding, Emiliana returned to her favorite place, closing her eyes and squaring her shoulders before letting the ivory keys take her away. She started, playing mostly minor chords – a haunting tune that Wednesday knew just what to do with, instinctively after the first repeating section. She jumped in – natural ability filling the air with cello sounds along with the piano.

It went on – the two playing in harmony for nearly twenty minutes. As they managed to come to a close without a single line of verbal communication, Wednesday was the one to get up first. She tugged Emiliana’s wrists, leading her to the back porch, where they sat on the swing together in silence.

There weren’t words needed between them – the energy spoke volumes. Emiliana kicked back, letting the swing rock. They both lost time – but not in a dangerous way, as they swung back and forth, back and forth until –

“Em? Oh! Hey, Wednesday!” Josie appeared, wearing a pair of athletic pants and an old reptile rescue organization t-shirt, her hair up in a high ponytail. She leaned down to push a kiss on Emiliana’s temple. “I tried to get a hold of you earlier, I figured you might be in the ether. Did you still want to do spring foraging and grocery shopping…?”

Emiliana opened and closed her mouth. “I am afraid I was not aware of the day. What is the time?”

“Going on four-thirty…I finished a meeting and swapped duty with Larissa for Sunday – I’ve got things to do at school then, regardless – I might as well be required to be there. I am so cool to just have turtle time if you -”

“I would still like – and require to, head into the forest. My stores are woefully low. Might we bring a small bird with us?”

“Yeah,” Josie smiled with teeth. “Provided she wants to? Wednesday – I’m not sure what your intentions were here?”

“To spend time with another creature of the dark,” She spoke in earnest. She wasn’t upset with it being Josie who disrupted the moment – but she certainly wasn’t ready to give Emiliana over to her fiancée. “My mother is out of birch – we could collect and distill some – if you’d be willing to go that far into the woods.”

“Whatever you need. The evening is mine now – we can go for a gathering walk, get groceries, eat something – then I am content to leave you two alone after for a bit before we’re ready to wind down for the night.”

Wednesday hurried in for a basket and her boots, while Emiliana insisted it was more than warm enough to be barefoot. Standing on the back porch with Augustus back around her shoulders from where he’d been snuggled in with a half-consenting Piper, Wednesday watched her big sister figures sharing a kiss in the middle of the grass before disrupting them with a hard stare. Josie giggled and pulled her to be between the Ravens, one arm around either of them. They walked a familiar path deeper into the woods behind the cottage, while Josie filled them in on the latest with just two weeks left in the semester – she was busy, but it seemed like the warming weather had behavior incidents down and she’d been largely able to accomplish her work during the daytime hours, instead of being constantly disrupted. Wednesday was distracted by wildflowers, tapping into her unique botany abilities she’d learned to mimic, discovering that a few could very well be useful in potion making with Emiliana. The red aquilegia was particularly interesting, but she warned Emiliana thrice about not attempting to eat it – as the toxicity would prove for a long and challenging evening.

Josie rolled her eyes when she produced a knife from her boot to peel back birch bark. “I find it interesting you’re still keeping a knife on your person, given all the recent trouble that’s caused you?”

“Maybe I just never learn,” Wednesday said with a shrug. “The consequences didn’t relate to having it on my person-”

“Only because Emiliana and I tampered with a crime scene,” Josie sighed. Wednesday felt a strange twist in her stomach. “I’m just saying, Wednesday. I…I’m not saying to walk around unprotected, just…I don’t even know what I’m suggesting. I just don’t want you forget what you’ve been through.”

“Believe me, I couldn’t if I tried,” Wednesday grumbled, picturing the woman’s biological father in a pool of his own blood. The inability to forget was half the reason she’d come to Emiliana that day in the first place.

“Alright,” Josie pulled her close. “I won’t nag.”

Emiliana snorted in a yeah right sort of disbelief and Josie slugged her a little before gesturing to some wild berries.

The foraging walk went on until nearly five-thirty, where Josie pushed a fruit pouch on both of the Ravens before getting them ready to go to the store. Emiliana tried to argue that she wasn’t the one with blood sugar regulation problems, but Josie told her the last thing she needed was scurvy from a week straight of eating noodles and broth.

They loaded into her SUV and Wednesday apologized to Augustus, who was disappointed they weren’t heading out of town to the pet store to get some of the live tiny mice he was fond of killing before eating fresh. Realizing she’d never been grocery shopping with the two women before, Wednesday should’ve been less surprised at just what a scene it was, with Emiliana’s need to touch every piece of fruit or vegetable before putting it in the cart, and asking Josie to read every label on packaged foods that caught her eye. Understanding why Josie usually just helped her with a delivery order, she found herself exercising patience before finally making it back to get started on a late dinner.

Grateful she’d done the dishes so that it was one less thing to do before she got overly hangry and acted out on it, Wednesday enjoyed the simple dinner of warm sandwiches and the fresh fruit and vegetable cut up before Josie finished up and a knock at the door revealed her best friend, who was going to take her out for a drink while Emiliana and Wednesday did their...whatever they were going to do together.

Wednesday eagerly sorted the foraging materials and she and Emiliana set to work cleaning her altar, putting her stones and other items to charge in the moonlight in a basket before smiling at Wednesday when she plopped beside her. “Alright, my little witch, what are you thinking?”

“Something for peace,” She whispered, finally confessing what she really needed with her fellow Raven. “Enid and I…let’s just say – the nights are challenging. I’m not sure how long she is going to be tortured by memories. She’s already had the worst of the feeling removed by the twins, and still, each night at the witching hour…”

“Less you say,” Emiliana sighed. “I am unsurprised. I doubt that I could even attempt to fall asleep at all under the circumstances. Much as I might like to be under a weighted blanket, I do not like to be in an enclosed area, considering what she went through.” She shivered. “My parents used to lock me into the small powder room when I was tearing off and…well, let me just say – I understand. I think…it is not even peace you are looking for. More like certainty.”

“Either way,” Wednesday sighed. “If you can think of a blessing, a potion, or a spell that will help, I will try it.”

Emiliana wiggled her fingers, reaching for a spell book in her native language. She tried to read the contents but sighed and gave up after several minutes, flopping back dramatically on the meditative carpet, mindful of her head. “Wednesday, confessions of truth. It is getting worse.”

“What is?” She asked gently, looking at Emiliana out of the corner of her eyes.

“I am afraid…I am afraid I may be losing more skills. It is common, with a brain injury, regression, or worse, a total loss of a previously mastered skill. But you know I used to be able to at least read decently in French! Now I can hardly manage. Everything looks like squiggles.”

Frowning, Wednesday bit her lip. She really didn’t have any advice to offer. “Would you like me to read to you?”

Emiliana had the base of her palm pushing against her closed eyes. “How am I to read wedding vows if I cannot even read familiar spells?”

That was an entirely separate problem – but that one, Wednesday had a solution for. “You don’t need to read anything. You’ll speak from the heart. And – if you do prefer to have something prewritten, so you don’t slip up, I will help you memorize it. You will give Josie lovely vows, okay? Don’t worry about that.”

When Emiliana didn’t immediately respond, Wednesday frowned, stretching out on the floor beside her. “What are you worried about, if that was just a mask?”

“I feel perpetually like I burden,” Emiliana confessed. “I just do not want this marriage to be a trap for Josie to take care of me.”

Thinking about how other people probably thought that about herself and Enid – but they didn’t see just how Wednesday could show up or be there for her, because it wasn’t anyone’s business, she gave a hug to Emiliana’s shoulders. There were other people in the world who surely struggled with similar problems, but only they knew how uniquely different they were. What it was to be and love a creature of such dark, always striving for light…

Emiliana hugged her in return, and she could feel her crying. “Sometimes I want to take you and hide us away in the countryside and just forage and do potions and spells and meditations forever.”

“Josie would miss you too much, Emi,” Wednesday promised. “I was with her, when you were not. Believe me, she loves you more than you even understand. She takes care of you in different ways as one of her expressions of that love, not in spite of it. You are not a burden. It is to be without you, that is her burden. Hey,” She sat up a little, pulling her fellow Raven up. “Let’s make a peace altar, for both of us. For all we want to ask of the universe.”

“The universe does not want us to have peace, Wednesday! That is half the point of our curse, and you know it!”

“Want doesn’t always get,” Wednesday quoted the myriad of adults in her life who’d long warned her about always having things go her way. “We’ve defied the dark before, and we’ll do it again. Don’t be pessimistic.”

Emiliana sighed, looking up, then to the side. She frowned, sitting up and looking at Wednesday. “When did you become the hopeful one?”

“I had no choice, Em,” She spoke, thinking about that awful night that sent Enid screaming in the middle of almost every night since. “I had to have hope. And I’ll have hope today, for both of us if you can’t find it on your own. I’ll ask for it for you. Come, help me,” She said, closing the book. They didn’t need it. They’d do their own spell, their own way – with her intentions shining through the dark that was clouding Emiliana’s vision.

Heading out to the back porch, she lifted a small, homemade tarp (she loved the way that Emiliana made it her own, lining the silver with black, celestial fabric, and putting a clear vinyl over the top). Beneath it, she took a water carafe, willed with water that she blessed under the recent moon. Bringing it in and sitting at the altar, taking the trunk full of Emiliana’s stores and the basket from their walk, Wednesday watched as she wiped at her cheeks, but started to take out potion ingredients, her little picture labels likely coming in handier than ever.

“I am recalling, somehow,” Emiliana rolled her eyes even as the left one twitched. “Acorns, are for luck.”

She held up a jar full of those that were dried and collected likely from the fall, full to the brim. “Well, add fifteen and hope for peace, then,” Wednesday agreed simply, watching Emiliana line up three rows of five, watching her double count to be sure before setting them into a bowl. She looked at Wednesday, waiting for her to go next.

Reaching into the basket of their yield from the woods, Wednesday removed a blackthorn blossom, placing it with the acorns. “For warding off negative energy.”

Emiliana found a little bit of a smile, apparently finding her approval of Wednesday’s method, lifting a piece of bark. “The city was removing the trees with Dutch Elm disease in the winter. I took a sample, and Holly found it was actually not completely affected, so – I saved the healthy part…As Elm…um, it…helps to balance…?”

“The heart,” Wednesday finished, smiling herself, squeezing Emiliana’s hand.

“Four pieces, then – with a lucky knife. Perhaps…” She took on a serious expression, that also offered Wednesday an out. “Are you yet ready, to open my summoning chest, retrieve your own?”

Shaking her head, she made it clear – Wednesday was not ready for that. “Not yet. Perhaps, come fall – we could do a purification ritual under the harvest moon.”

“Excellent thinking. Add it to your mental calendar, then. I happen to have one…” She lifted up her hands, wandering over to the basket of tools on the tall shelf by her altar. “I once used this to so very carefully remove a hook from one of those babies over there – when Josie and I found him,” She gestured to the tank of turtles. “She says it is a lucky knife.”

She chopped her bark with even slices, tilting her head, inviting Wednesday to make the next choice.

Taking a glance through her many jars and small, homemade sinch-sacs, Wednesday found a dried, pink flower. “Hollyhock. Useful to personal growth.”

“Hm…” Emiliana’s left eye wandered for a moment before she pulled it back, blinking and reaching for a bag. “Mint – for energy. Goodness knows this grows everywhere I don’t want it to out there. I need Holly to spend some time with me,” She mumbled, dropping in seven leaves.

“Pennyroyal,” Wednesday took one from the basket. “For harmony, tranquility.”

“And finally, the liquids.” She took a basket off the shelf, putting lavender and sage oil out, before looking at Wednesday with a sigh, then – sudden watery eyes yet again. “I am so happy to have a partner in the dark to do this with.”

Wednesday gave her a half a smile before headbutting her. “Would you like to grind or smash?”

“Oh, grind, please. You,” She passed her a mallet, “Smashy girl.”

“Always,” She said gleefully, taking the acorns and elm sticks and rolling them into one of Emiliana’s homemade altar cloths, placing it all on a silicone mat and taking it outside, giving them a good few playful whacks before going to town – not letting them stand a chance against the depths of her unrestrained violence.

Once they were more into a powder, Wednesday brought the folded cloth back to Emiliana, who was grinding everything else together with a large mortar and pestle. She let Wednesday add the newly crushed ingredients and continued to grind it all together before Wednesday prepared a simple setup for their spell and blessing.

She carefully selected runes from Emiliana’s collection, placing one of her homemade shell symbols in the moon water she poured into a small simmering cauldron. “Peorth, for luck.”

Emiliana nodded, drawing three Ogham Staves, that Wednesday was sure she hadn’t used at least since the Solstice break at home with her mother. “Hm. Ironic, is it not?”

“Ura, for spiritual healing, Duir, for strength, and Sail, for balance? It sounds exactly like what we need. Put them on the meditation plane.”

Emiliana set it all up, rolling out a clean scarf, putting the three Ogham Staves in a row, placing the dry ingredients in front of them. She added six candles, a photo of Enid and Wednesday, and one of herself and Josie, then as many crystals that gave positivity that Wednesday imagined she had at the cottage. Satisfied with her spread, she crossed her legs and took Wednesday’s hand, lighting the candles with a wave of her own. “Would you like to give your intentions?”

“I acknowledge, the break in traumatic events that we are presently being allowed – from the universe. I express, my gratitude for it – as I am not sure how we could have continued to cope. But – the ramifications of all that took place, continue to haunt us. I implore, peace – positivity – light. I must be able to be more present and grounded, I must be able to provide comfort to my beloved who needs me most at the current time. Em?”

“I recognize,” She could hear her swallow, “My privilege in position, in wealth, in relative health. But I also feel a sense of futility – that I am not able to give enough to my own beloved, and that I am taking more. I implore – peace, positivity – light. I ask for these things to be stable. I must be able to give as much of myself as is given to me.”

Feeling their intentions were matched, Wednesday spoke in verse, letting a natural sense of rhythm and rhyme take over.

I seek both light and peace, I request that this darkness cease. I need a positive force that can bring Something good to this endless spring. I require a flame from the eternal fire, To help me be a healer and inspire. I ask this, for the only one I adore - Grant us peace, forevermore.

Emiliana spoke a familiar blessing in French, and Wednesday smiled at her as she finished, pouring their dry ingredients into the pot, while Emiliana added the oils. They stirred together, focused on intentions, before Emiliana lit the flame in the fireplace and put the small cauldron on her hook. Cleaning up just a little bit from the spell – it wasn’t a terrible mess, they passed the time while waiting for the potion to brew, about three hours.

Not realizing how much time had passed, Wednesday felt her cheeks heat up when her mother opened the cottage door with Enid, finding Emiliana and Wednesday in the middle of a very dramatic tarot reading for her Beanie Babies. Enid managed to take a picture before suggesting they head home as it was going on her late snack and bedtime, and she wasn’t one to skip her routines.

Feeling just a little bit irritated that she wouldn’t be able to see the potion through to the end, Wednesday let Emiliana scoot both members of the party out to the front porch before she located Augustus from where he’d been antagonizing her own snake, putting the boy around Wednesday’s shoulders, and tugging her close. “I will mind the potion and bring it to you tomorrow morning with an appropriate color tie and charm.”

She hugged her in return, feeling a strange pit of emotion as she held onto Emiliana’s thin frame. She turned her cheek against her bony collarbone, looking to the side, staring at the fire. Wednesday knew her intentions were clear when creating the potion, but…she wasn’t so sure if it would hold up or prove effective.

As Emiliana embraced her long, it seemed like…sometimes – that homespun magic was all an illusion; the potions and spells sometimes felt like nothing more than a placebo effect. Perhaps it really was, and the magic of it all was belief and pluck and –

“You are thinking over, little bird.”

“I know,” She whispered, still clutching onto her.

“You have proved, time and again – you are very strong, very powerful.”

“At a cost. I don’t think that potion will cause anyone to be hospitalized.”

Emiliana’s fingers tangled under her braids as she pulled her back to look her in the eye. Her left one was twitching like it wanted to be shut for the night. “Do not estimate under the power you have,” Emiliana warned.

Nodding – not sure how to do that, but knowing Emiliana’s misused idioms were wise, she accepted her obnoxious kisses to her cheeks before taking her backpack and the Beanie Baby blackbird and scorpion from the floor, tucking them inside, seeing all the missed messages on her phone that had caused her girlfriend and mother to have to walk over to collect her. Giving a wave to Emiliana, Wednesday accepted next her mother’s hand to her shoulder before letting Enid envelop her in a warm greeting.

“Sorry for interrupting your Beanie Baby tarot reading. That looked really fun! Did you get anything good out of it?”

Wednesday hid a dramatic sigh, contemplating on the fairly neutral cards she’d drawn that night. “Nothing life-changing, for the better or worse.”

“Well, we’ll take that, too,” Enid let go and slipped her fingers between Wednesday’s, practically skipping along the solar-powered little garden lights that illuminated the path from Emiliana’s cottage to the Addams house.

Wednesday had made a potion to give her hope that night. The irony of it was – the only reason who’d ever given her any reason to chance that sensation in the first place, despite her chipper-looking demeanor on the trail, was the very reason she needed it, and would likely be hysterical in just six hours.

Trying not to think over as they made it home, ate her usual pre-bed snack and followed her established routine with Enid, Wednesday tucked in beside her. Enid was cuddled on top of her chest like usual, obviously exhausted from her day – and had slipped to sleep in minutes.

She’d sought out Emiliana for the very same reason that her fellow Raven had spoken the quiet part out loud – when she struggled with her reading. Sometimes – the weight of the dark, even if there was no vision, no promise of horror from the universe, was simply too much. To be understood in a way that such a microscopic percentage of Outcasts had ever truly been cursed…

There was a light from the nightstand an hour and a half later as Wednesday wanted to take her mother’s sleeping potion, but also didn’t want to be too out of it when Enid woke up in short time. Reaching for her phone, she examined the picture Emiliana sent; her potion was in a small bottle, with white-dipped twine, tied around the neck, a small bird charm of promise adhered in wax. There was no text attached to it, just the picture of the potion.

It looked beautiful in the light of the still-burning candles and Wednesday sighed, putting it back, adjusting herself around Enid’s sleeping form as she rolled onto her side with a snore. She considered the poem she’d spoken in verse over the potion, willing the universe to grant her a few hours of peace before she’d be woken up to provide it to her traumatized girlfriend.

#fanfic #wednesday 2022 #Chaos for the Fly #layla's >5k challenge #OC: Emiliana Zypher

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