#that i will get frustrated with again but thus is life

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

A Danish Werewolf in The City

The First Taste - part 2

Note: life's full of surprises, huh? once again, this fic was getting out of hand, so I had to split it up once more and this chapter is now 3 parts long. And as promised, the ending & smut part of it will be out tomorrow. For now, I hope you enjoy this! Special thanks to @foxyanon for reading a tiny part as a way of helping me out.

previous chapters: part 1 - part 2 - part 3.1

Pairing: werewolf!Sihtric x you (f)

Warnings: 18+, angst/horror fic.

Wordcount: 2,7k

Masterlist

After his relentless vampire killing spree, which had lasted up to several months, Sihtric realised he needed to calm down before accidentally sparking the interest of werewolf hunters or other observing folk around.

He had earned quite some new scars during his slaughters, some of which were hard to hide on a warm summer day. And the last thing Sihtric wanted was having to move towns because his beast identity had been discovered. He knew he'd be chased away, or worse, being hunted down and tortured before being brutally murdered. And the people would most likely make a fancy rug out of his fur and use his decapitated wolf's head as a laughingstock to scare children with. These weren't medieval times, but once a creature was discovered living amongst regular humans, people tended to slip into a state of primaeval panic. So he began to lay low as the Moon cycle continued, and that's when he made a list of everything he'd need to restore the shed.

His shed was ordinary on the outside, like any other backyard shed around his neighbourhood, but the inside of it was something else. Inside, the wooden walls of which the shed was made, were hidden behind a firm layer of steel that would be impossible to break out of and, most importantly, were sound proof. Furthermore, the cabin was completely empty inside, apart from a chair in the middle which resembled those used as electric chairs in prisons. The design had been picked on purpose, as he could be easily restrained in it with metal chains, which a pack member would always help him with, and because his monthly involuntary transformation felt like something he should be punished for.

As Sihtric had his shifting under control, he usually didn't need to be fully restrained and mainly did it as a precaution every month, not wanting to become a killing machine. But after he had decided several Moons ago to rip off all the chains from the chair, floor and ceiling, to completely let his werewolf form go in order to slay those vampires while he was hurting, thus making the shed completely unusable for the sole purpose it had been built, he now felt that he needed to be fully chained up again to restore the balance inside of him. The full Moon made everyone act out, even humans and other animals, not just the werewolves, but it simply affected the latter more than the average breathing being. And since Sihtric did not want to become a target by hunters, townsfolk or any other creature of the night, he knew he had to be quick to fix up his enclosure. And as he only had three days left before he would already start to feel the effect of the waxing Moon, as she would be almost fully round, he headed to the hardware store.

Sihtric strolled through the store with a shopping cart, agitated by one of its wheels as it malfunctioned and abruptly brought the cart to an awkward halt every now and then with a loud squeak that hurt his ears and drew attention. He cursed under his breath as he fought with the cart while he searched for the materials he needed. The full Moon wasn't here yet, but Sihtric was already more sensitive than during the other moon phases, and he kicked the cart's wheel in his frustration when it blocked once again and caused him to bump into the cart. To his delight, he quickly found the aisle he was searching for, and he loaded the limp cart with several heavy metal chains, as well as the tools he needed to secure them again.

And it was then, when he wanted to struggle with the cart to the self checkout, that he suddenly froze as he caught a familiar scent closeby that made his heart skip several beats.

You gritted your teeth as you searched for a specific colour of paint. Months had passed since Sihtric had scratched up the paint job on the outside of your windowsill, and you couldn't bear to look at it anymore. It was horrible, the claw markings clearly visibly as they had left dark scratches on the white surface. The fact that those scratches were there was not even the worst part of it all. No, the worst of it was that you knew you had to repaint the entire outside part of your house after touching up the scratches, because it had been a while since you had applied the paint, and the white had turned a rather light grey overtime. 

You internally cursed your werewolf ex-boyfriend as you roamed past the various shades of paint. It had been months, but you still loved Sihtric, and in truth you knew it was going to be hard to remove the last physical memory you had of him. To make matters worse, you finally spotted the paint you were looking for at the top shelf, which you couldn't possibly reach. You sighed, clearly annoyed, and looked around for an employee who could help you, but it seemed they were all on their lunch breaks. You groaned as you wanted to make your way back to the paint aisle, but stopped when you spotted a man who looked tall enough to reach that top shelf. He had his back turned to you as he seemed to stare down into his shopping cart, and you cleared your throat as you walked up to him.

'Excuse me,' you chuckled awkwardly, 'could you maybe help me-'

You immediately stopped talking when the man turned around, and it felt as if the ground beneath your feet crumbled away. You stopped breathing as you studied him, for he looked so different. The man was handsome, so very handsome, with his well kept goatee and interesting haircut; dark curls on one side while the other half was shaved. For a moment you figured it couldn't possibly be him, but those mismatched eyes were undoubtedly the same you had looked into various mornings.

'S… Sihtric?' you managed to breathe as your cheeks warmed up.

He stared at you, dead silent, while his Adam's apple bopped in his throat as he swallowed hard before he finally opened his mouth to speak after what felt like forever.

'I… I,' he stammered with a shaky voice, 'I'm sorry, you must have mistaken me for someone else.'

He quickly averted his eyes and turned on his heels, ready to push his cart and leave the store as fast as he could. But the cart stalled again as the limp wheel refused to cooperate, and forced him to suffer being around your presence a little longer. Your scent drove him mad, in every possible way, and he felt a mild panic inside of him. You were fast to grab his arm and stepped around to face him.

'Sihtric,' you said again, fully convinced this time as his voice had betrayed him too, 'please… I… I've been thinking of you,' you blurted out.

Your eyes darted over his face while he just stood there, nailed to the ground and clearly at war with himself, fighting urges inside of him. You took in his new look while he dared to bring his eyes back onto you, his new haircut was bold and strange, but you couldn't deny he made your heart beat just as fast as the first time you had met him.

'I've been thinking of you every day,' you said as you finally released his arm, 'have… have you been thinking of me?'

Sihtric looked down at his feet, then showed a quick pained and broken smile as he shrugged lightly.

'Of course,' he half mumbled and shyly rubbed his arm, 'of course I have. You're… you're all I think of, still.'

You smiled faintly and felt your cheeks heat up again. You stared at each other, unsure of what to do next. Part of you wanted to slap his face for telling you to get out of his life and break your heart, and the other part of you wanted to grab his face and kiss him, stumbling into the shelves and making out steamingly on the floor of the hardware store for everyone to see. But you did neither of those things.

'Where have you been?' you asked, breaking the long silence, 'I heard you quit at the vet a little while ago.'

'I didn't quit,' Sihtric said softly, 'I'm on temporary leave.'

'But why?'

'I just, I don't know. I had to take care of things.'

'I see,' you nodded, still confused by his vague answer, and then you looked into his cart, 'so, eh, renovating?'

'Something like that,' he chuckled faintly, 'what brings you here?'

'I need paint, but I can't reach it…'

Sihtric broke into a genuine smile and followed you to grab you the bucket of paint.

'Renovating?' he jested.

'Something like that,' you smiled, 'you left some… marks. I haven't gotten around to fix that up yet.'

'I'm sorry,' Sihtric said, immediately tormented again by the horrible night, and he sighed as a sense of panic crept up once more, 'well, look… I just… I-I have to go-'

'Sihtric, please,' you stopped him again, 'please. I'm worried about you. And I…,' you swallowed hard and half whispered, 'I miss you. I really fucking miss you.'

Sihtric stared at you, the tears glistened in his eyes as he sniffed and scratched his goatee in an attempt to hide his emotions.

'I miss you too,' he mumbled.

'Can we talk, please? Not here, not right now. But can we meet up somewhere later?'

Sihtric wasn't sure about your offer. He desperately wanted to talk to you and be close to you again, but he was afraid it would only make his unhealed wounds deeper as he still loved you with all his heart. You suggested to meet at a pub later that evening, but as you left the store with trembling hands, you still weren't sure if he was going to show up.

You waited outside the pub and hoped Sihtric would show, otherwise you'd look like a fool waiting at the door for twenty minutes already. The place was crowded inside, as were the streets, and suddenly your eye caught the Moon as she crept up the darkened sky when you looked up. You began to feel nervous, reminiscing over everything that had happened prior to your break-up, and you wondered if maybe it had been a mistake to try and see where you and Sihtric stood right now. 

You would never deny that you were still in love with him, and had been all this time, despite the horrors and gruesome truths you had discovered about him and his being. If anything, you understand his werewolf identity more now after all the research you had done, and it even had gotten as far as sparking a new curiosity inside of you. But before you could disappear into your newfound interest, you were startled when Sihtric suddenly stood behind you and spoke softly in your ear.

'Caught you,' he chuckled softly with a hint of darkness.

But the mischief quickly fell off his face when you turned around, and he once again remembered what he had lost that night in the woods; you. You and that smile of yours, the one you flashed him now upon seeing him. The smile that made him weak instantly and made him want to cup your cheeks and nuzzle your nose softly in between peppering you with kisses all over. He'd do anything to be able to do that again. He'd try every other superstition that could potentially break his werewolf curse that he hadn't tried yet, no matter how gruesome, no matter the cost. If only he could have you again and love you like no other living being ever could.

'Hey,' you smiled, relieved, 'I wasn't sure if you were going to show.'

'Neither was I,' Sihtric confessed.

You noticed he avoided eye contact, and the sudden trembling of his lower lip betrayed the fact he was on the verge of tears.

'Well,' you broke the painful silence, 'can I… at least get a hug?'

Sihtric shrugged lightly and scrunched his nose as he sniffed, then held his arms open and invited you in his embrace. You wrapped your arms around him, allowing yourself to sink in his warm and strong arms which you had dreamt of nearly every night.

'I've missed your arms around me,' you murmured in his ear.

You fought your own tears now while you heard Sihtric sniffle quietly, and his grip suddenly tightened as his chest heaved up and down fast, as if a state of panic had captured him.

'I… I-,' he stammered with a shaky voice, 'I just can't breathe without you. It feels as if I can't breathe without you,' he almost wheezed, 'I… I need… I just need you.'

You tried to step back, wanting to look at him as you could sense he started to slip further into an abrupt form of panic, but you couldn't get out of his grip. A sudden low growl started to sound from deep down his throat, while his heavy breaths slowly changed into murmured grunts. 

His head was spinning as the intensity of every sound, sight and smell around him grew stronger, slowly driving him mad as his ears were ringing. His clothes felt too tight, the street lanterns and pub signs were too bright and the people too loud. But even louder was the buzzing of his own blood in his ears, as well as the sound of your beating heart inside your chest, and he suddenly bared his teeth with a silent snarl as you managed to take a step back. You took his face while his hands found your waist, squeezing you firmly but not all unpleasant, and you forced eye contact as you spoke to him as soothingly as possibly.

'Sihtric? Sihtric listen to me. You need to calm down,' you said compassionately, but not without fright as his mismatched eyes occasionally glowed, 'just breathe. You can breathe, I promise. I'm here… I'm here, okay?' you said with a soft sob, 'I'm not going anywhere, you hear me?'

While Sihtric fought his urge to shift, as his emotions were almost unbearable and he just wanted to hide, you managed to gradually calm him down and suggested you'd go for a walk instead of a drink at the pub. You worried that any slight cause of frustration might tip Sihtric over the edge, thus shifting into a gigantic werewolf and tearing up the place as well as everyone in it, which was the absolute last thing you wanted. You took his hands and pulled him with you, out of the busy street and near the entrance of a quiet and dark alley where you sat down on a public bench that overlooked the river which ran through the darkened city.

Sihtric calmed down while his trembling hands held yours, and he finally dared to look at you again as he stopped fighting his tears.

'Pushing you away from me was the biggest mistake of my life,' he spoke softly, with a broken voice, 'I thought it would be better for you, but it's… and maybe it was, but for me-' he stopped and buried his face in his hands while he cried.

You wrapped your arms around his jerking shoulders, letting your tears run freely along with his, and you told him you understood why he had pushed you away and that walking out on him was your biggest regret too. You told him that after the split you had started researching his wolf being, and that you understood him so much better now and everything that came with it. Sihtric felt relieved to hear that it seemed you had accepted his darker side, but he dreaded telling you what he had been up to while you were broken up…

'Have you been with someone else?' he eventually asked as both your tears had dried.

'What?' you scoffed, 'oh, please. As if you couldn't smell.'

'I could,' Sihtric admitted with a chuckle, 'but have you?'

'I haven't,' you rolled your eyes with a soft smile, 'what about you?'

'Really?' he frowned and feigned offence.

'Look, I know your sex drive, Sihtric,' you shrugged, 'so I'm just asking.'

'Well, I haven't been with anyone else,' Sihtric sighed, 'I mean… no one wants to be with a monster, do they?'

You sat in silence for a long time, just staring out into the darkness together, until you took his hand again and said, 'It was a mistake to break up, wasn't it?'

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#i'd say this is a filler chapter but it's way too fcking long for that lmao #sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #sihtric #tlk #sihtric fic #the last kingdom fic #werewolf fic #werewolf au #sihtric au #tlk au

[miodiodavinci]

writing out my to-do list for the semester and feeling an overwhelming wave of terrified nausea like ohhhhh this is going to suck so so bad huh

#and i haven't even gotten to writing down the weekly responsibilities of my actual Internship yet #this is just the university and state deadlines ! ! ! ! #(and not even all of them because my professors have not released all their due dates yet) #lads i think i am going to be crying and having many a panic attack this spring unless i can forcibly shift myself into a dissociative stat #that craves neither rest nor pleasure nor any other state beyond being hunched over a computer and writing for my life #(face in hands) i'll survive it for sure but. god. #the really frustrating thing is that the department that is supposed to be preparing me for The Big Test has. #created artificial deadlines for each component of The Big Test that. do not include the final component of The Big Test. #they really just said 'oh yeah and fit that last on in there somewhere when you get the chance :)' #'yes we plan for you to be ready to submit the second to last part within days of the submission deadline' #'but just remember to also fit in that last part somewhere' #'during your free time probably lol' #anyway skfdgjkhdf #i'll survive i'll survive #i have survived literally everything the education system has thrown at me thus far and none of it has resulted in physical harm #i am pushing the boundaries of my body's stress tolerance and that means that everything in the future #will be that much less stressful in comparison #just gotta get through it and then i never have to do it again . . . . . . . . . . . . . . #(unless i go back for my masters or something which i will. probably do at some point unfortunately.) #(this user is prone to suffering)

[navramanan]

Been feeling neglected / forgotten by the few friends i have cuz i've been getting rejections when suggesting hang outs / phone calls and getting no call backs about alternative times

#but i'm caving in now cuz last week was when i felt really fed up #i felt so so so frustrated bc i wanted to talk to someone just about how my life's been and i had fucking nobody #i was so upset frustrated mad i started talking to myself loudly and angrily and felt so so stupid #but unfortunately i am human and thus need human connections and although it makes me feel stupid i'll ask friends again for meet ups #god this feels so embarrassing my god #this is mostly about two friends. bc the other two uni friends have been making me feel indebted by the amount of times they'd ask me #for hang outs. they havent done that in a bit but theyre the only ones allowed bc theyre different #i have this one friend and lovvvvvvve her to bits we get along so well #but she's just so bad at keeping in touch and it's tiring me #nesi rants

[cinnamon-galaxies]

Hi! I saw that your request box was open. Could I request a Alastor x fem!reader who is a mornigstar, charlie's older sister and she is engaged with Alastor. In episode 5, Dad beat Dad, I thought their relationship is kept secret and was revealed later on shocking lucifer and their friends

Dad beat Fiancé beat Dad

Pairings: Alastor x Fem!Reader / Alastor x Morningstar!Reader

Tags: hurt/comfort, (a little bit of) fluff, secret relationship/engagement, Alastor vs Lucifer, Morningstar!Reader, Fem!Reader

Warnings: language/swearing, kiss, argument/bickering, reader is Charlie’s older sister, English is not my first language!

Summary: You are Charlie's older sister and secretly engaged to Alastor. When your sister invites your father to the hotel to ask for his help with her rehabilitation program, you look forward to his arrival. However, things take a turn when tensions escalate between your father and your fiancé, leading to heated bickering. Overcome with frustration, you finally lash out and accidentally reveal your engagement to the King of Hell and the hotel's residents.

Wordcount: 5.4k

A/N: This one turned out so long! I really hope you like it and that the story meets your expectations! English is not my first language so I want to apologize for possible grammar and spelling mistakes. I really tried my best to make as few mistakes as possible!

───*✱*.｡:｡*✱*.:｡.*✧*.:｡*✰*｡:.*✧*.｡:.*✱*｡: ｡.*✱*───

“Well, I’m actually running a hotel to rehabilitate sinners. Maybe you saw our commercial,” you heard your younger sister speak into the telephone, releasing a nervous chuckle here and there. Then a sigh escaped her lips. “Listen, dad, I’ve got kind of a big ask…”   You stood a few feet away and stared at her, unsure what to think of this whole idea. Was it really that smart to ask your father to organize another meeting with heaven? The last one already didn’t end well. But what other choice was left for you? Still, it released a weird feeling inside your guts, now that you watched Charlie calling your dad, since your and your sister’s relationships with him were kind of… special. Your father tended to distance himself from the both of you for the most time, bathing in his own emotional dilemma and not even trying to do anything about it. Thus neglecting the both of you. Well, at least he called your sister five months ago regarding that meeting with Adam in heaven’s local embassy. But when it comes to you it’s been even longer since you’ve talked. Maybe a year? Or even longer. You didn’t actually know and also some part within you didn’t even want to. But what you knew is that you missed him. Although, in contradiction, you weren’t really fond of him at the moment. It’s not that you didn’t love him. He was your father, regardless, and you both shared a lot of wholesome and fun memories. But since your mother had left him seven years ago, things had turned out strange and you didn’t really approve of his weird-ass behavior towards you and your sister. Still, you hoped your father would agree to help you out. Maybe, just maybe, there was a probability that you saw him again. You had so much to tell him. Your life has changed a lot since you started supporting your sister in the hotel. And even before, when you met Alastor…

Lost in your thoughts you missed parts of the phone call and as your consciousness returned to reality, you saw your sister taking the phone down and ending the call. Curious about the outcome you cocked your head. “What did he say?”

   “Well,” Charlie stared at an empty space for a brief moment, “it seems that dad will be coming over.”

   Your mouth fell agape and your eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, really?” you asked her and a huge smile grew on your face. “That’s awesome! When?”

   Charlie proudly straightened her back and stemmed her hands into her hips. “We have an hour until he gets here.”

   You turned around to face the other residents who sat on the couch and raised your voice, “Okay people. Dad’s on his way, so we’re getting this place presentable and we are all going to make an amazing impression. Let’s go!”

   That’s when Vaggie spoke up, “That’s a great idea! Husker, Angel and I will go get some decorations for the lobby,” her eyes wandered down to Niffty, “Niffty, you and Sir Pentious will bake some cookies so we have something to eat when it’s time for coffee.”

   Nifty nodded exaggeratedly, almost vibrating from that force she put into her motion. She instantly grabbed Sir Pentious’s hand and dragged him down the hallway towards the kitchen. When Husker, Angel and Vaggie went to get the decorations from the storage room you and Charlie were left alone. 

   “Are you as excited as I am?” You asked her with a moving voice and examined your sister expectantly. It was no secret that Charlie took that whole situation with your father a bit differently from you. While you almost imploded waiting to get a chance to meet him again, your sister was more reserved and kept herself a bit more distant from him. Even though she was the one your father seemed to favor when it came to dealing with the conflict with heaven. It didn’t matter that you were the older daughter… 

   “Ahm… I don’t know,” Charlie responded nervously stroking her neck, “I mean, yes, I am. But at the same time…” She hesitated and you put your hand on her shoulder.

   “Don’t worry, sis. I can understand,” you reassured her with a calm voice and smiled at her with genuine eyes. You could feel her shoulders relax under your supporting gesture.

   “Thank you,” she responded and returned your smile. “It’s just… You know, since he and mom split, I often don’t feel like his daughter anymore. Yet he sounded very excited to come over.”

   You took a deep breath and removed your hand from her shoulder. “We’ll see how things are going when he arrives.”

   Charlie chuckled. “Well, I think you should go and inform Alastor about our special guest,” she requested, raising her eyebrows in concern. Charlie was the only person at the hotel who knew about your secret relationship with him. When you decided to knock on the door to propose your support to your sister, you and Alastor were already dating. In fact, you were the one who dragged him here because – regardless of his fearful and sketchy reputation – you knew he’d make a great hotelier and protector for the residents during future exterminations. But you both didn’t introduce yourselves as a couple right away. Instead, you found common ground in letting your sister know but keeping it hidden from the other residents. There were several reasons you both had decided against making your relationship public: Alastor’s reputation as the Radio Demon, yours as Lucifer’s oldest daughter, the gossip, the media… These and many more were all things you didn’t want to deal with. Especially since Alastor was a very private person who despised showing affection outside his private space and you, as a person who had no desire to brag about your partner, were totally fine with it. What happened in private chambers stayed in private chambers. That was your agreement, and if you let your friends know about your relationship, there would be too much risk that it would eventually become public. The only other person next to Charlie, and outside the hotel, who knew about your and Alastor’s connection, was his decades-long friend Rosie.

Repeating your sister's request in your head you nodded in agreement. It was the best to prepare Alastor. Even though an hour alone wouldn’t be long enough for him to digest the fact that he was about to meet your father. “Oh, I think he’ll be excited about the news,” you responded with a sarcastic tone and couldn’t help but release a malicious laugh. Oh, how much he will hate this...

You heard Charlie laughing along and shaking her head in amusement. But as quickly as the amusement appeared, it disappeared as you continued to think about the fact that Alastor was actually going to meet your father. With a deep breath you dropped your smile and lowered your voice. “Do you think it would be a good idea to tell dad about Alastor and me?”

   “Ahm…” Charlie seemed to think about it more carefully before commenting, “I actually don’t know… I wish I could tell you but that’s something you and Alastor have to decide. First of all, I’d wait until after they had their first impressions of each other. Then… maybe… introduce him to the truth? I mean, if you and Alastor plan to stay together, what I hope – I mean… It’s obvious, why else would you date if it isn’t for staying together?” She chuckled at how much she was lost in her words and cleaned her throat. “I’m sorry. What I mean to say is that it would be beneficial for your shared future if you let dad know. At least at some point in the future.”

   You nodded in understanding and gifted her a slight smile. “Thank you. Maybe I’ll talk to him about this later. First of all, I need to prepare him for meeting his soon-to-be father in law.” You laughed and excused yourself before you left the lobby and went upstairs.

   When you arrived at Alastor’s radio station you knocked on the door.

   “You may come in!” you heard Alastor’s dulled voice through the door and opened it. When you entered the radio station you immediately saw him sitting at his desk, leaning over some papers and holding a pen in his hand. When you closed the door, he placed the pen to the side and turned to look at you.

   “Why hello, darling,” he greeted you, his signature smile on his face but his red eyes revealing a neutral expression. “What brings you here?”

   “Well...” You took a deep breath and strolled towards him with your hands folded behind your back and your lips pressed to your teeth. “I’ve got some news for you that you’ll probably hate.”

   “Oh?” he responded curiously and tilted his head to the side. His red hair swayed with the movement.

   You arrived at his desk and leaned against the tabletop, your front mostly faced towards him. You tilted your head in the same direction as he did and couldn’t manage to suppress an amused smile. “My dad will be here in less than an hour,” you said with a cocky voice and watched Alastors expression shift as his lips curled up around his smile and his eyes immediately twitched. An awkward silence fell over the room before he broke it with a snippy tone, “You’re right. I hate that news.” His neck returned to a straight and more natural position and you chuckled.

   “Vaggie’s the one to blame. She came up with the idea that Charlie should call him to ask for help because she could no longer bear seeing my sister ripping her hair out in despair over her missing rehabilitation success,” you explained and a growl escaped Alastor’s throat. He already didn't like Vaggie and now he probably liked her even less.

   “Splendid,” he said without enthusiasm and stood up from his chair, grabbing his microphone cane and leaning on it. Now taller than you, you had to tilt your head back to be able to look him in the eyes. “How about I excuse myself and disappear for another set of seven years?”

   “Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,” you responded, raised your index finger and waved it in front of him. “You will stand your ground and behave. It’s just my dad.”

   “He’s the king of hell, darling.”

   “And that's why you'll be going down there and prove to him that you're a worthy partner for his princess daughter.”

   He gritted his teeth and your smile widened as you nonchalantly brushed the wrinkles out of his coat.

   “Are you questioning my abilities, darling?” He asked, placing one of his hands on top of yours, thus stopping your movements and squeezing it.

   You felt your cheeks blush at his affectionate action and stepped closer to him, your body now close enough that it almost touched his. You could feel the warmth radiating off him and tilted your head slightly, your eyes still locked with his. “No, I’m not. And that’s exactly why I want you to do as I said.”

   “Oh, is her dear royal highness misusing her mightiness to give me an order?” he asked with a low and unusually soft voice and a shiver ran down your spine. Oh, how you loved it when he became flirty. His charm was able to captivate you instantly, weakening your legs and waking those tingling butterflies in your stomach. He removed your hands from his coat and pulled you closer to him. Your body now touching his, you felt the urge to rest your head into the crook of his neck but resisted.

   “She indeed is. And you better behave, peasant,” you teased him back and Alastor narrowed his eyes at you degrading him like this.

   He let go of one of your hands and instead cupped your cheek before using his fingers to lift your chin up. “You seem to forget that I’m your finacé”, he purred, leaning in closer until only a few inches separated your noses from touching. His hot breath stroked your face and you could’ve sworn that his eyes had turned to a darker hue.

   Without further hesitation he pulled you into a tender kiss. His lips brushed over yours and you leaned in closer, succumbing yourself completely to him. Your free hand roamed up and slid through his hair, pressing his face closer to yours. After a few moments of togetherness both of you let go of each other.

   “We should return to the foyer. My dad can arrive any minute,” you said and stroked his cheek before heading towards the door. You could hear Alastor sigh behind you.

   “Just as a reminder: I can’t promise you things will go well.”

   You rolled your eyes as you left the radio station together. “At least try.”

   After you entered the foyer most preparations were already done and it didn’t take long until your father arrived. Your body was shaking from excitement as you and Charlie went up to the door and your sister opened it.

   "Charlie!,” your father shouted with joy. A huge grin sat on his face and his yellow eyes sparkled as his gaze fell on your sister who stood much closer to him. He held out his arms and approached her, pulling her into a hug. “It’s so good to see you!”

   “It’s good to see you too, dad,” Charlie pressed through the tight hug of her father, overwhelm and a little bit of uncomfort in her expression.

   When Lucifer let go of her his eyes fell on you. "Y/N! You’re here too?” his pupils dilated in surprise and you immediately found yourself wrapped in his arms as well.

   “Dad!” you greeted him as you placed your hands around his torso and squeezed, the soft fragrance of his cologne entering your nose. He smelled the same he always did, the scent taking you back to the past when your family was still together and healthy. It was wonderful to be this close to him after such a long time and you wished this moment could last longer. You looked to the side and saw Alastor standing near your sister. But what you didn’t see was one of his eyes twitching at your father’s gesture.

   You let go of each other and Charlie held out her hand, spinning and pointing at the lobby. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”

   The other residents greeted him with waving hands from afar and your father smiled back at them, walking through the lobby and letting his gaze wander around. “Wow, this place looks, uh…” he twisted his mouth in an unpleasant manner and frowned, searching for the right words. He chuckled nervously and you and Charlie exchanged glances as he stammered around, turning to the side and surveying the establishment as if he was a property inspector. You could tell that nervousness spread across Charlie’s face as she probably hoped his words wouldn’t be too dismissive. You shrugged your shoulders at her to dismiss your father’s unsettling behavior and followed him.

   “What do you think, dad?” you dared to ask him in hopes he’d come up with a response a little faster if you pushed on him a little.

   “It’s got a lot of character,” he eventually said and winched with a squeak when he turned around and laid eyes on the bar. “What in the unholy hell is that?” he asked repulsively and pointed to the swampy-looking counter decorated with skulls and two full snake skeletons wrapped around the poles. The green wood paneling disrupted the noble red wallpaper of the looby, making it appear like an eyesore amidst the otherwise mostly luxurious decor.

   A dark shadow crawled around the floor and took the form of Alastor who appeared right next to him. “Just some of the renovations we had done! ” he explained, pointing his cane at the bar, his signature smile wide and confident before he turned towards Lucifer and leaned on his cane. “Adds a bit of color, don’t you think?”

   “And you are?” Lucifer asked with raised eyebrows, a skeptical tone in his voice.

   You, again, exchanged glances with Charlie and held your breath. The moment has come in which your father and your financé had their first contact and somehow you got the feeling that this won’t end well. Your sister seemed to be fearing the same and she stepped closer to you. Her presence calmed your tension at least a little. 

   “Alastor,” your finacé introduced himself, “Pleasure to be meeting you, sir. Quite a pleasure!” He shook your fathers hand and you could see the disapproval in both their eyes, before they let go. Your father grimaced while Alastor wiped his hands over his coat.

   This most definitely won’t end well. But before you and Charlie could say something, Alastor continued, “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. You are much shorter in real life.”

   You breathed in sharply. Your father didn’t seem to take his comment well as his expression immediately turned to annoyance. You and Charlie both approached them, your sister standing next to your father while you kept closer to Alastor. You really hoped that he’d notice your disapproval over how things were going and slow down a bit. But you knew him well enough to be sure he wouldn’t notice the tension in the room and also wouldn't care if he did.

   “Who is this?” your father asked, his eyes fixated on the demon before him. “Who’s this now? Are you the bellhop?”

   Alastor laughed in response. “No! I’m the host of the hotel. You might’ve heard of me from my radio broadcast,” he explained.

   Your father pretended to ponder his words for a very short moment but then denied with a derogatory snort. “Nope! I guess that’s why Charlie called it the ‘Hazbin Hotel’?” He laughed at his pun, this time more maliciously. The tension grew stronger and you didn’t even realize that you held your breath and pressed your fists so tightly together that your nails painfully stung your palms. Your sister, on the other hand, nervously rubbed her hands.

   Hiding his offense, Alastor piled into your father’s laughter, “It was actually my idea.”

   “Well, it’s not very clever!” your father responded, increasing his laugh.

   Alastor did the same and leaned in closer, “Fuck you.”

   “Alastor!” you yelled at him in shock and disbelief over his rude words and took him by his arm, dragging him to the side while your sister shoved your father into the other direction.

   “What the fuck is wrong with you?” you scolded him with a lowered voice to keep your conversation as private as possible. He’d never been someone who cussed so why did he have to do this now of all times?

   “He started it,” Alastor explained, keeping his face turned in the other direction to avoid eye contact.

   You breathed in sharply, anger boiling within you as you hissed, “I don’t care about who did what. You were supposed to make a good impression!”

   “Excuse me, dear, but it seems that your father and I don’t get along. And this seems to be based on mutuality. I don’t know if you noticed this but he already looked at me disapprovingly before we even exchanged words.”

   Oh, you did notice this. But you didn’t care because in this moment it was important for both of them to at least pretend to tolerate each other. You couldn’t afford your father and your finacé to already disembowel each other during their first encounter. Important aspects of your shared future relied on their correlation. And… Was Alastor even listening to you?!

   You snatched his cane out of his hands and spinned it around.

   Alastor finally turned to look at you, his teeth gritted and his eyebrows pushed together. His gaze became softer as he eyed your expression but he still seemed tense.

   “You’ll put this right, Alastor. Or otherwise…” You don’t finish your sentence and instead poke the pointy end of his cane between his ribs.

   “Fine,” he growled and took his cane back.

   You both turned around and saw Charlie pushing your father in your direction, her arm resting on his shoulder while she talked to him insistently with a calm but worried voice, “Without Alastor, we wouldn’t have been able to pretty it up this much!”

   Alastor took a step closer, tapping his fingertips on his cane. “Charlie has a very unique vision,” he started and stood next to her, forcing himself to sound as honest and courteous as possible, “I am happy to fulfill her bizarre requests.”

   “Thank you, Alastor”, your sister responded, ignoring your frowning father who looked anything but amused.

   Alastor continued, “Quite an impressive young lady. We’re all very proud of her.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and Charlie gave him a genuine smile before he let go and turned towards you. “And her sister, Y/N, well…” He laid his red eyes on you with a genuine and almost loving smile and rested his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it slightly in an almost unnoticeable but reassuring manner. “She’s an extraordinary being. Introduced me to this very special place so we can give her sister all the support and assistance she needs.”

   You smiled at him, grateful that he followed your request to at least try to make things right.

   Your father growled and narrowed his eyes as he noticed the way Alastor looked at you, the demon’s hand on your shoulder triggering his already strained nerves. He snatched his head in the other direction to face your sister. “Charlie… Why don’t you introduce me to your other friends?”

   “Oh, yes, of course!” she called out and walked up to the other residents. “This is Vaggie. She’s my girlfriend!” She pulled Vaggie with her who shyly raised her hand in a reserved greeting gesture.

   Your father laughed and his mood immediately switched from annoyance to excitement. “Oh my golly! You like girls? So do I! We have so much in common!” He pulled Vaggie in a rushed embrace, letting her go as fast as he got close to her. “She’s beautiful!”

   You felt your heart sink in your chest at your father’s opposite reaction to your sister’s partner and a strike of anxiety hit you at the thought of telling him the truth about you and Alastor. It wasn’t only the fact you both were a couple that made you this insecure but the fact that you were even engaged to him.

   Alastor seemed to sense your inner tension and squeezed your shoulder again, now with more pressure and you were grateful for him that he hadn’t removed his hand yet. His closeness was exactly what you needed at this moment. You moved a bit closer to him, hoping that you both didn't appear too close in the other eyes, and breathed in his scent while your thoughts raced in your head. You reviewed the events again and realized that Alastor was right. You had little reason to be so angry (only) at him because your father didn’t really behave either from the first second. Hopefully you could somehow dismiss this conflict as a matter of miscommunication between them.

   You watched your sister introduce your father to the other residents which he seemed to get along with very well – contrary to your finacé who seemed to be the only one he immediately despised.

   You sighed and that’s when your father turned around to face the lobby. With a determined expression he raised his voice so everybody could hear him, “Well, it looks like I could give you some help. With a little bit of alakazam,” he wiggled his fingers, indicating a magic spell, “we could turn this place into something much more appealing! I mean, who needs a busboy now that you got the chef?” He faced Alastor with narrowed eyes and poked his elbow teasingly into Charlie’s side.

   You could feel Alastor’s grip on your shoulder tightening. His smile turned into a strained grin as he obviously thought about saying something. You begged that he kept his mouth shut to not reinforce their conflict… 

   “Well, Charlie…” your father continued before Alastor could even say something, “I’m not almighty but I could give you a lot. Almost anything, if you ask for it. You know, normally, I’d charge a lot for my help but since you’re my daughter and I love you with all my heart, it’s a matter of course I do it for free. Unlike that sketchy prick who probably has some devious intentions in his mind.” He raised his cane and pointed at Alastor.

   Charlie blinked a few times and pressed a nervous and drawled ‘Thank you…’ through her uncomfortable smile. It was obvious that she didn’t approve of your father’s comment but she also didn’t want to increase the drama by intervening.

   Alastor took his hand off your shoulder and leaned on his cane. “At least I’ve been here from the start,” he commented and eyed his claws with a hint of arrogance.

   You breathed in sharply but tried your best to keep your patience up as Alastor continued his monologue. “Let's not forget that I’ve always been faithful to you, Charlie. I support you, care for you and this hotel, and execute whatever you demand”, he exclaimed with such confidence that it was almost awkward listening to him.

   “That’s true,” your sister responded carefully with a grateful smile on her face and your father rolled his eyes. “You know, dad, Alastor does a lot for the hotel and its residents.”

   “No matter his capabilities, because sometimes, Charlie, there’s no substitute for pure angelic power, which – not to forget – also happens to be your blood!”

   “Dad…” Charlie sighed and you growled, the anger cooking inside of you.

   “Sadly, there are times a birth parent is a dud,” Alastor interfered again, his grin still as prominent as always but his eyes narrowed, darting invisible arrows at Lucifer. He straightens his back to appear even taller in comparison to your father, the arrogance undeniable in his expression. “Seems like the family you chose is better.”

   “You’re such a loser!” your dad spat out.

   “And yet here you are proving me right with every word you speak,” Alastor snatched back.

   “You know nothing, you prick!”

   “Well, unlike you, I don’t abandon my responsibilities!”

   “How do you dare question my commitment?”

   “At least I care for your daughters.”

   “Oh you tacky little piece of–!”

You jumped between them. “Shut the fuck up! Both of you!”

 you yelled as your anger burst through the walls you’ve tried to maintain hold of. Your voice cracked with the strain of suppressed fury and your appearance began to morph into a much more demonic form as pointy horns grew out of your head and your eyes turned a gleaming bloody red. “I’m sick of you bickering like children, you fucking attention whores! Is this how you get your kicks, by not being able to keep your mouths shut over such trivial nonsense? Do you even realize how goddamn irritating it is for the rest of us to be subjected to your constant squabbling? You know each other for ten minutes and already start pushing each other to the limits!”

   “Y/N–,” Alastor tried to interrupt you but you stretched out your arm, pushing him away from you.

   “No, Alastor, back the fuck off!” you scream, looking up in his red eyes and poking his chest angrily with your index finger. “Everytime I tell you to keep your shit together and make a good impression, you make things worse!”

   Your head snatches around and you now stare at your father with the same fury in your eyes. “And you, dad, stop your irresponsible nonsense and don’t taunt him as if he were a punching bag for your own insecurities!” Now you poke at your father’s chest, towering over him with floating hair and fire in your eyes. “Because Alastor’s right! Where have you been all the time? Instead of helping us and supporting Charlie in her project, you didn't even contact us! Especially not me! The last time I heard from you was over a year ago! And now you come here, finally ready to help your daughters, and the moment you arrive you start lashing out at my fiancé to deflect from your own mistakes because you can't stand the fact that he was there for us while you preferred to wallow yourself in your depression!”

   Silence fell over the room when you finished your rant, all eyes locked on you in shock and disbelief over your courage to attack the Radio Demon and the King of Hell himself in such a manner. Your heart raced, pumped your blood through your veins with such a pressure that you felt your whole body pulsating under your tension as relief washed over you.

   “Y–,” your dad tried to say, stuttering and completely overwhelmed by your confrontation and what you just revealed to him. “You–, Your… fiancé?” He ripped his eyes open, his mouth agape in disbelief.

   You breathed in heavily and closed your eyes for a brief moment, realizing what you just revealed, before you opened them again and responded to his question with a much calmer but also weak and tired voice, “Yes, dad. Alastor is my fiancé.”

   “What the fuck?” you could hear Angel exclaim in the background but ignored him.

   “Well…” your father hesitated. He struggled hard to find the right words and put his hand over his mouth, rubbing his skin like a stress ball. “Well, I’m… Wow…”

   Alastor approached you, his steps echoing from the high walls in the silent room and he put his hand on your shoulder. Feeling his touch through your blouse, caused a jolt of electricity to rush through your body. It erased the rest of your anger and your appearance returned to your normal form. Alastor’s presence calmed you down to an almost relaxed state. You felt the need to lean on him but resisted because everything that just happened was already enough – for you, for your father, your fiancé and all the other residents who were forced to witness this nerve-wrecking spectacle.

   You watched your father’s gaze roam over Alastor’s presence, from his head to his toes and from his toes back to his head.

   “I–, I don’t know what to say… Uh… I–... I’m speechless,” he stuttered, unable to look away from the man that stood next to you and encouraged you with a little but meaningful gesture and with who you wanted to spend the rest of eternity with. “I–, excuse me. I need some time to think.”

   Your father indicated to turn around and leave as your sister grabbed him by his arm, holding him back. “Would you like me to give you a tour around the hotel?” she asked him reassuringly in hope he would agree, what he then did.

   “Yes. Please.”

   Your sister gave you an encouraging look before she turned around and guided your father towards the stairs, Vaggie following right after to accompany them.

   Now, you and Alastor were alone with Angel Dust, Sir Pentious, Husk and Niffty. All of them stared at you, speechless. Especially Husk appeared a bit traumatized by your accidental announcement.

   “So… Mister fancy-talk-creepy-voice managed to slide into the royal family?” Angel asked you with interest but you raised your hand, interrupting him.

   “Stop it, Angel.”

   The spider demon pressed his lips together in a thin line and hummed.

   You turned towards Alastor. “Are you mad?” you asked him, afraid that you damaged his trust by revealing your biggest secret you had sworn to keep.

   Alastor leaned his head down sideways to look you in the eyes. His grin was replaced by a genuine smile as his red eyes surveyed your expression. “It’s alright, my dear.”

   He looked over to the other residents, walking a few steps closer to them and cocked his head in an unnatural and unnerving way. His antlers grew in size with pointy ends while his eyes changed to a black color with red, moving radio dials as irises. “If you dare say a single word about mine and Y/N’s relationship outside of the hotel, I will tear you apart and hang your guts as flags on the hotel roof so everybody will be able to see what happens if you dare gossip about the radio demon and his lady.”

*****

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel alastor #radio demon #reader fic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor imagine #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x you #alastor fluff #alastor comfort #alastor has beef with lucifer #x reader #female reader #alastor vs lucifer #alastor oneshot #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel x y/n #lucifer hazbin hotel #morningstar reader

[arieslost]

you have pushed me to ask so here I go

I present my idea of motorcyclist!oscar and his gf who is afraid of motorcycles. He convinces her to try it onc3 and BOOM hands around him holding on the dear life.

I want to hold on to him

I can't stop thinking about that tiktok

here's a ss I took from the tiktok edit

what a yummy man

the entire time i wrote this i kept coming back to look at this picture because oh my goodness gracious. i hope this lives up to ur expectations <33 definitely wanna write more biker!osc after this

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

hold on tight | op81

“Just one time?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No way.”

“Do you even love me at all?” Oscar asks dramatically, jutting his lower lip out for extra effect. 

“That’s not going to work on me, Piastri.” You shake your head vehemently. “I refuse to get on that death machine. It’s bad enough that you ride it all the time.”

“Come onnnn,” he whines, tugging you up off of the bed and into his arms. 

The two of you look like polar opposites— him with his leather jacket and riding gloves still on, smelling faintly of exhaust, and you in plaid pajama pants and one of his worn out t-shirts. You suppose that’s what makes your relationship work so well, opposites attract and whatever. All relationships take compromise though, and this is one “compromise” that, thus far, you’ve refused to make. 

In your eyes, it’s not a compromise. But Oscar has been asking you to be his “backpack” practically since the two of you met. 

“What do I have to do to convince you?” He’s asking, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. 

“Hmm, nothing.” You smile up at him, and it fades just as fast when you see the excitement in his eyes. “Because it’s never going to happen. I like being alive, thank you very much.”

“Baby, you know you’ll be safe with me. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.” He says sincerely, his pleading tone now gone. “I’ve been riding my entire life. I did all the crashing before I got my license. Haven’t crashed since.”

“Yeah, that makes me feel better.” You mutter, hiding your face in his chest so he can’t see your resolve slowly starting to crumble. 

“It would be so fun,” he continues, arms tightening around your frame as he starts to sway you both side to side a little. “All you’d have to do is hold on to me. I’ll do all the work. You trust me, don’t you?” 

“With all things except the death machine,” you say, voice muffled by the material of his jacket. 

“I love you, but I’m gonna need you to stop calling her ‘the death machine,’ honey.”

“Her?” You look up at him, affronted. “I’m definitely not doing it now. Wouldn’t want to get between you and the other woman in your life.” 

Oscar laughs. His laugh has always been more of a giggle around you, which is such a contrast to his outward appearance that it never fails to make you melt. 

“You’re the only woman for me, which is why you’re the only woman I’ve ever asked to be my backpack.” He says. 

“Don’t try to butter me up with the whole backpack thing again.” You roll your eyes and try to pull away from him, but he somehow manages to twirl you and bring you right back into him. 

“It’s not me buttering you up, I’m just telling the truth. Come on, baby.” he leans in and gives you a long kiss that leaves your head spinning a little. “One time. And if you don’t like it, I promise I won’t ask again.” 

You let out a frustrated groan, because he has to know that he’s won at this point. That kiss was nothing but tactical. “Fine. Fine. But you can’t just kiss me like that every time you want something from me, it’s unfair.” 

“Yes, yes!” He squeezes you into him, kissing the top of your head over and over. “You won’t regret this.”

“I already am a little bit.” You grumble. 

That’s how you find yourself standing on the sidewalk with Oscar in front of you adjusting a helmet on your head. 

“This is making me claustrophobic,” you complain as he flips the visor up so he can see your face. 

“I’m just making sure you’re safe, baby.” When you furrow your eyebrows, he sighs and drops his hands to his sides. “If you really don’t want to do this, you don’t have to, okay?”

This makes you relent a little bit. “Osc, I’m sorry. I’m just scared. I don’t like motorcycles, like, at all.” You smile as best you can with the helmet on, hoping it goes to your eyes so he can see it. “I want to do this. You just… you really have to help me.” 

He nods, the tension in his shoulders dissipating. “Of course, honey. C’mon.”

He takes your hand and leads you over to his motorcycle. While you’re terrified just looking at it, you can’t deny that it’s absolutely beautiful. Streamlined and sleek, like he literally just bought it, even though you know he’d already had it for a year when you first met him. 

He looks almost the same as he did when you first met— all black getup, signature leather jacket, riding gloves, and of course, his strangely colorful helmet that doesn’t match the rest of him. His hair was long when you met him, and you still remember being absolutely starstruck when you saw his face for the first time. It had felt like everything went into slow motion when he took his helmet off, pushed his hair back, and instantly made eye contact with you from where you were just exiting the bookstore. 

Needless to say, you were done for. And now here you are, a year later, letting him help you onto the death machine. 

He never said you had to stop calling it (sorry, her) that if you were thinking it to yourself. 

“You okay? Comfy?” Oscar asks, reaching to adjust your helmet one more time. 

“Yup. Mhmm. Totally.” You nod, not even trying to sound convincing considering your heart is in your throat and he hasn’t even started the engine yet. 

“Great,” he kisses the top of your helmet and smiles at you cutely before climbing onto the bike so he’s seated in front of you. “Just hold on tight, okay baby? Like this.” 

He reaches behind him, grabbing your hands that had been anxiously scratching at the material of your jeans and pulling you forward so your arms are wrapped around his waist. He doesn’t have to say anything else– you’re quick to tighten your hold around him, fingers clutching at the material of his open jacket. You immediately feel your anxieties begin to dissipate as soon as you’re holding onto him, and you shift your whole body forward on the seat so your front is pressed as close as it can be to his back. When he lets out a quiet grunt, you release your grip a little. 

“I’m sorry! Am I holding you too tight?” “No, no,” he huffs out a laugh, patting your thigh. “Do whatever you need to do. Just warn me if you’re planning to suffocate me at all.”

“Listen, Piastri–” you begin, and he cuts you off by twisting around to look at you.

“Okay, I get it, I’m sorry.” He’s giggling now, and you let go of him to smack his helmet. “I’m done, I promise. As long as you feel safe, honey.”

“Come on, let’s go before I chicken out.” You say, quickly reassuming your hold.

It’s times like these where you appreciate just how buff your boyfriend is. He has something of a sleeper build, so one quick glance at him wouldn’t really reveal much, but when you’re pressed up against him like this, you can feel the muscles in his back and shoulders and his abs through his shirt when your hand slips past his jacket. He’s warm and solid against you, and that in itself is comforting enough that you don’t go flying off the seat when he starts up the engine and you instantly feel your whole body start to vibrate from the force of it.

“I’ll check in with you, okay?” He says over the loud rumbling. “Hit me in the head or something and I’ll pull over. Sound good?” Having him to hold on to is nice, but your throat is still dry thinking about all the dastardly possibilities that could occur when the bike starts moving, so you have to swallow a couple times in order for him to hear you over the engine. “Yeah, sounds good.”

Your heart falls out of your ass and lands on the pavement when he pulls out onto the road, the engine roaring as he accelerates. 

“God, please spare me,” you say out loud, grateful that Oscar can’t hear you over the engine. 

As soon as he gets onto the freeway, that’s when you realize just how much fun you’ve been missing out on.

It’s never been a secret to you that Oscar loves going fast. There have been plenty of occasions where you’ll drive somewhere, do whatever it is you have planned, and then you’ll turn to him and ask if he wants to drive home just to give him some peace of mind knowing that the journey back will be cut down by a few minutes at least. Being in the car is fun enough, but being on the back of his motorcycle is different.

You thought you’d be more scared. You’re terrified, sure, but even though you can feel the wind whipping against your clothes and you’re flying past cars on either side of the freeway, you’re holding on to Oscar, and you could easily do that forever. You’re quickly warming up to the concept of being his backpack, and you can feel yourself relaxing your death grip around him. This is actually kind of fun. Okay, really fun. You actually can’t believe you were so adamantly refusing to do this this whole time. 

Every so often, he reaches back with one hand and rubs your thigh, or holds one of your hands that is now tucked comfortably into his jacket pocket. You thought you’d be freaking out about him taking a hand off the handlebars, but he exudes confidence on the bike, and he never wavers no matter what he’s doing with his hands. 

He doesn’t go very far; the whole ride lasts maybe 20 minutes, but it feels like half that with how quick the bike is. Your arms ache from all the muscles in them working the whole time, and when he helps you off the back of the bike your legs feel like jello.

“How was it?” He asks, helping you pull the bulky helmet off your head. 

Your hair falls in your face and he brushes it away for you before you can even lift your hands. He cups your cheeks, a small smile on his face as he admires you.

“We are definitely doing that again.” 

His smile grows, and he places a sweet, adoring kiss on your lips. “I knew I finally found my backpack.” 

word count: 1,787

masterlist — join my tag list here!

note: writing this has me thinking up a whole biker au for multiple drivers... thank you for this gold mine of a request <33

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are always appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings

#aries answers #venus <3 #op81 week #full fic #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #op81 x you #op81 x reader #op81 imagine #op81 fluff

[onlyonewoman]

Current AO3 news from Facebook group:

ADMIN: “Just a few things. Yes, the attacks are still happening so site availability will be spotty at best. This is NOT an attack on the actual content. All stories, user data, etc are safe. DDOS attacks basically overwhelm the servers with requests to the point they cannot handle the load and failover. DDOS attacks last until one of two things happens, either the person/group gets bored and moves on to a new target. Or the site owner finds a way to fortify the servers against the attack. That means this could last for a while. With that in mind, let's all try to keep the panic, humorous or otherwise to a minimum. It's annoying and frustrating, certainly, but it's not the end of the world. The site will eventually be back, it's just going to take time and patience.” In short: - Our content is safe. - Our user data, stories etc are safe. - It’s a DDOS attack meaning it’s basically an attempt at overwhelming the servers, meaning: - DON’T KEEP REFRESHING THE AO3 PAGE!!! - It will last for a while, but there is no need to panic. Copied from one of the reblogs: “To simplify:A DoS or DDoS attack is analogous to a group of people crowding the entry door of a shop, making it hard for legitimate customers to enter, thus disrupting trade and losing the business money.” Also, YES, KEEP REBLOGGING to let people know! The less of us trying to reload the page the better! In the meantime, this is basically me:

Edit again, because this little post got a life of its own and now I feel like Pippin lighting the beacon of Minas Tirith :D

UPDATE AROUND 18:30~ish CET:

YAY!

#ao3 #ao3 hacker attack #don't refresh the page #content is safe #just don't overload the system

[hana-no-seiiki]

𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐒 + 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐱 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 (𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝟏)

“Athanaxious. We are going back right this instant!” An adult male siren called out to his brother. His beautiful gradient tail of obsidian to violet shimmered underneath the water filtered sunlight.

“Oh stop being a prickly pufferfish for once, Vasileios. We’ll be in the deep once again in a moment. I just have to—“ ‘Athanaxious’ replied with a huff. No matter the uncountable times he had come to the shoreline, it was still difficult navigating through shallow water on such a rocky beach. His tail, an exact opposite of his companion with its sandy ivories and gold, flicked in all directions as it tried to propel him away from harsh terrain.

His hands gripped tightly to a leather sling bag across his exposed chest.

“Have to wh—“ The albino creature attempted to ask but was thwarted by a hash tug on his arm, “Hey!” He stretched out his arm to slap Athanaxious in retaliation only to pause at the sound of singing.

“All I ever wanted was the open sea and sky; freedom from the life I always knew.”

Both men froze. A chilly delight crawled through their spine, their limbs and eventually the tips of their fingers and fin. Vasileious had never heard of a voice that entrancing. He has heard several of his fellow sirens luring humans to their demise, but none of them could even hope to compare to this sound. It echoed within the chambers of his heart, the matter in his brain, and the longing that lied dormant within.

But then he saw it’s source and the features on his face soured.

A human.

You.

“Now all I am is haunted as days and hours roll by…” You continued with your song, and then you abruptly halt. The next line wouldn’t come out properly. Your eyes run over the words, slowly getting frustrated with how it wouldn’t fit in.

Athanaxious doesn’t waste a beat. He knew that adorably annoyed sneer you’d make and what would fix it. “All I ever think about is you.”

Vasileious gasped. Athanaxious never sang. Always going on and on about the safety of the sailors on sea and how he didn’t want their blood on his hands. Yet here he was freely providing his — quite literally — magical voice to this human.

“Athanaxious, what are you—“

“Than! You’re back! I was just thinking on ways to improve that verse. Thank you.” You ran, the ruffles on your chiffon blouse flowed through the wind. You flinched and stumbled as the pebbles scraped the sole of your bare feet. Your luxurious leather heels long forgotten.

“Of course, your highness. I wouldn’t miss our reunions here for anything.” Athanaxious winked, just like how you taught him a while back.

You chuckled. The siren had noticed how the clothes you wore contrasted to those he’d usually spot at sea. ‘Couture’ you called it. But all he could think of was those pictures of human prince and princesses, and thus the little inside joke started. “I told you I’m not . . . “

Your eyes trailed from your raven haired companion to the albino. Athanaxious’ tail always fascinated you, but the new siren’s looked out of this world. Further reminding you of how different the worlds you lived in actually were. “Who’s your friend?”

“Oh, him?” Athanaxious rolled his eyes, another mannerism he learnt from you, “Just one of my older brothers.”

“You didn’t tell me you have an older brother.”

“Y-you didn’t tell me you were fraternizing with a- a- human! What would father think about this?Not to mention mother . . .” Vasileious’ fins shivered at the thought.

“Father knows.” Athanaxious shrugged whilst looking throw the bag he’d wrapped around him. You have gifted him many things, tangible or not, throughout your friendship. So he thought of bringing something back to you.

A pearl necklace. He was actually going to give you the clam it came from but judging from what fishermen looked for and spoke about, he thought giving you the biggest, shiniest pearl he could find would have been more appropriate.

As soon as you received the gift, you swiftly embraced him in an attempt to hide the empty look on your eyes before mustering the most sincere ‘Thank you.’ you could do.

“In any case, don’t humans have siblings as well? I just didn’t think it would be interesting enough to mention in our conversations. Our time together is often far too brief.”

“Far too brief it is.” You stared at the iridescent pearl. A sigh escaped your lips. “Than, I have an event scheduled on a beach—“

Vasileios attempted to cover his little brother’s mouth but it was too late.

“Magnificent! We’ll be there!”

“Excuse me, I didn’t agree to this—“

“—across the continent.” Your cheerful temperament dissipated.

Athanaxious asked, confused at why you seemed so upset about such a fact. Didn’t more events meant you get paid more in those currencies you spoke about? He shook his head, perhaps you were forgetting he wasn’t human like you always did and said, “Your highness, do I like I wouldn’t be able to swim there?”

“No, of course not. You seem quite capable.”

Athanaxious’ cheeks turned a dark shade of blue at your words.

“Besides you must have plenty of royal duties to accomplish.”

“I have no such thing—“

“Thank you for reminding me, human.” Vasileios’ patience had ran out. He loved his brother to pieces — he really, truly did — but feared the wrath of his parents much more. “Mother asked us to survey the reefs. If we come back without a proper report. . .”

“Oh fine.” Athanaxious slapped the other siren’s hand away, and then faced you with his sharp teeth. “Fare thee well, your highness.”

“You too, Than. Twas a pleasure to meet your brother.”

You sighed one last time. Annoyed at your lack of confidence in conveying the message you wanted to.

Athanaxious will find out sooner or later that it was your very own wedding he would attend by himself,

and the nickname he gave you? Might have some truth to it soon.

[ AUTHOR’S NOTE ] - status: unedited

Have an old ass draft that has collected dust atp.

If this gets idk, 1000 notes I’ll make artworks of our siren brothers and switch out the one I have featured on the header.

This fic will have three-five acts in total. Of which the story I’ve already planned out. It’s pretty much just a twist on the classic little mermaid story to end our pride month with a bang. We love our historic gays as much as our contemporary ones 🏳️‍🌈

reader is amab and will have more stuff alluding to their masculinity in later acts.

[ LINK TO NEXT ACT HERE ]

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere siren #yandere mermaid #yandere imagine #yandere oc #yandere fic #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #yandere core #yandere insert #male yandere #yandere various #yandere harem #yandere harem x reader #gender neutral reader #dom reader #amab reader

[whateveriwant]

could i request sumn real quick..

TF141 with a s/o who does archery, with those Japanese longbows (they’re called yumis, i think😭) ??

This was completely foreign to me so I hope I at least kinda did it justice 😭

Gaz

When you first told him about your hobby of choice, admittedly, he was unfamiliar with it

Archery as a whole was nothing new to him, but knowledge about your discipline in particular had entirely evaded him up until now

However, after learning more about it from you as well as researching on his own, he's now become your biggest cheerleader, literally and figuratively cheering you on from the sidelines

Whether you do it just for recreation or you do it for competition, he's always there to support you with 110% enthusiasm

He's like a proud dad whenever he gets to watch you in your element, always pulling out his phone to record you so he can show off to his mates later

Major cheeseball that he is, he's even gotten custom decals on his car to brag of your accomplishments, so that everyone can know about you and your unique skill

Soap

His interest was immediately piqued when you first brought up your incredibly specialized sport

You see, he used to do a little archery himself back in secondary school, and (not to brag) but he was actually pretty good at it

Of course, that confession gets your interest piqued, so you invite him to take some shots with your bow, which he readily accepts

He's positively preening as he nocks an arrow, confidence oozing from him as he takes aim… only to turn a shade of red just shy of tomato as he misses his shot by about 10 feet

He tries again and again, somehow getting worse with each shot, the frustration and embarrassment coming from him clearly palpable

Though you try to encourage him to keep going (after all, no one’s good at anything their first try), eventually, he timidly hands the bow back, saying he thinks he’s better off just leaving it to you

Price

He's a very physically active man himself, so learning that you're involved in a martial art was a major turn on for him

And him being in the military and thus heavily trained in all sorts of weaponry, the fact that it's a weapons-focused discipline was doubly appealing to him

From the first moment you brought your hobby up, he was practically begging to watch you shoot

It didn't matter if you had all the bells and whistles ready or not; hell, you could’ve been dressed in a flour sack aiming at tin cans in his backyard and he’d have still been over the moon

Wanting some privacy though, he took you to a range where you could show off your skills without distraction or disruption

And when he saw you take that first shot, hitting your target dead center, he would never tell you, but his pants got a little tighter after that

Ghost

While he finds what you do very intriguing, he wishes there was a more “real life” application to your sport

He knows how dismissive that might sound, but just think about it. In an emergency, are you going to whip out your two meter long bow to defend yourself? Exactly.

Ideally, he'd like to teach you how to use a gun. And you'll agree to let him… only if you can teach him how to use a bow

You might have some lighthearted bickering where he stubbornly insists that a gun is much more useful when it comes to personal protection

But well wouldn't you know it when one night he's awoken by the sound of someone trying to break into your flat, and what object should his fingers find in the dark? Yeah, I think you know

To you, your bow seemed like a perfectly good weapon when he used it to whack the would-be thief over the head…

Yeesh, now that earned you the side-eye of the century. But alright, he eventually conceded, maybe it does have its merits

#wiw asks #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #simon riley #kyle garrick #john mactavish #john price #tf 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty #modern warfare 2

[dreamcubed]

lover | mattheo riddle x reader

song; lover [taylor swift] pairing; duke!mattheo riddle x fem!baronet's daughter!reader genre; marriage of convenience, s2l, fluff, angst, hurt comfort word count; 9,1k timeline; bridgerton au (again lol) warnings; abusive parents (verbal, neglect, psychological), implied anxiety, panic attacks, near death experience (illness) summary; born into a loveless family, you had been denied the opportunity to marry for many years. that was, until, a duke noticed your situation and gave your parents an offer that they simply couldn't refuse - but would it be a love match?

suggested by @fictionisjustbetter ! (sorry this took so long)

icl mattheo is just so perfect for period aus

masterlist

"all's well that ends well to end up with you."

———————————————

Sir Vincent Malton was a baronet and nothing more. Of course, while being a low title, it was still a part of the aristocracy, which was much better than the alternative. He took his role very seriously, as his father before him had, and his father before him.

So, when the first Lady Malton of his passed during childbirth having sired not an heir, but a daughter, he had arranged for a new wife to marry ready for his first day of it being considered acceptable to be out of mourning. The second Lady Malton of his was more successful in the heir department: during her first pregnancy, she sired twins, both a boy and a girl. And then after two more girls (of separate pregnancies), she had another boy. Sir Vincent Malton then finally felt safe in the security of his baronetcy lineage.

But he never spoke to any of his six children. He left them up to the second Lady Malton, including his firstborn, who was not her blood. Where other ladies would have accepted their stepchildren as their own, Lady Daria Malton did not. As far she was concerned, Y/N was not her child and thus not her problem. But Sir Vincent was a traditional man who saw the children as the mother's business, so she kept up appearances to continue her life of comfort.

Sir Vincent didn't even bother with the marriage mart, instructing his wife to simply inform him when a suitor (with a title) proposed to any one of his daughters. And Lady Malton had - with her own eldest daughter, Samantha, when a baron asked for her hand. He was twice her age, but Lady Malton (like her husband) cared about title more than anything. Samantha was quickly married off to her new life as a baroness.

One thing Sir Vincent didn't know was that Lady Malton had never officially debuted Y/N. She brought her along to more casual soirées that other non-debutantes attended to keep up appearances, but as far as the one-and-twenty-year-old's actual debut - well, it was significantly overdue. The thing was, Y/N had received callers after such events before, but callers were received by the baronetess and not the baronet, and she quickly sent them away. Thus, the actual stage of proposal was never reached, so Lady Malton was by all technicalities following her husband's instruction.

Y/N knew that it was unfair, that her stepmother's abuse was unjust. She didn't see why she couldn't just allow someone to propose and get her out of the home: Lady Malton clearly didn't like her, so why not be rid of her?

But, she supposed, someone like Lady Malton must quite enjoy having a scapegoat around to target their frustrations at.

***

"Last year was a tremendous success by all means," Lady Malton spoke as her lady's maid attended to her corset, "To have Samantha married off in her first year as a debutante was a splendid result."

Y/N subtly rolled her eyes: Samantha was eighteen and her husband almost forty, it really shouldn't have been a permitted pairing. But, her husband was a baron, and title was all Lord & Lady Malton cared for. They couldn't choose to be fussy as the lowest titleholders of the aristocracy.

"Thus, Y/N, I do not wish you to cause any interference," she explained further, glaring at you through her reflection in the mirror, "I am bringing you along to Lady Bridgerton's birthday soirée out of necessity, as she always includes young ladies of whom have not made their debut."

You knew that: you had attended Lady Bridgerton's birthday event the year prior for the same reason.

"Rumour has it the Duke of Covenshire has returned from his travels to the Americas and will be attending tonight," she proceeded, "And it would simply be marvellous if Grace could secure him as a match in her first year as a debutante."

You glanced over at Grace, sat at the dresser as her lady's maid applied her makeup. She was putting on a remarkably brave face, but you could tell that she was nervous: she was too young to debut. After Samantha's success, Lady Malton had felt confident enough to debut Grace at only seven-and-ten. It wasn't entirely uncommon, but typically Mamas waited until their daughters were at least one year older.

Meanwhile you were one-and-twenty and still yet to have your debut. At this rate you would be a spinster before you had even entered the marriage mart.

You looked to your other side at Tia, your youngest sister at fourteen, who was more than thrilled to be allowed to attend that night. You never saw your brothers, really: Vincent (creatively named after your father) was away at Cambridge, and Henry, the youngest of the lot, was away at Eton.

"Right, is the carriage ready?" Lady Malton snapped at one of the servants, who quickly nodded.

And then with a curt bob of her head, the baronetess proceeded over to the door - a silent instruction for her daughters to follow - and they all headed to the front of Malton House, the London lodgings of the family.

***

"Lady Bridgerton! How good to see you," Lady Malton beamed at the dowager viscountess, "Such a lovely soirée."

"Why thank you, Lady Malton," the kind woman replied, "Pleased to see all your daughters could make it."

"Oh, is Samantha here already?"

"I believe Lady Halterton is over there," Lady Bridgerton vaguely pointed in a direction, "But how are all the Miss Maltons?"

"Grace is excited to make a match this year," the poor girl was pushed forward, "With any luck, she shall follow in her sister's footsteps."

"And what of the oldest Miss Malton?"

You looked up and gave Lady Bridgerton a hesitant smile.

"You know how Y/N is - still doesn't want to debut," Lady Malton sighed, "At this rate she shall be a spinster before even trying for marriage. But, we love her and support her decisions."

You scoffed internally, wanting nothing more than to blaspheme at your stepmother in that moment.

The conversation with Lady Bridgerton wrapped up and the focus then became the considering of various potential suitors. It was the first social event that you had the privilege of attending since the year prior, so you fully planned to savour the moments you were free from the house.

And then the room hushed into whispers as the door opened, it being remarkably noticeable how all the ambitious eyes of the Mamas zoned in on one particular man gracing the room with his presence.

"That's him- that's the duke!" Lady Malton whispered, mainly to Grace, but anyone close by could have heard her.

"Gosh, he's handsome," Tia mumbled to your left, "Shame I'm too young."

You kept your eyes glued on to the pale man with curly brown hair gelled somewhat neatly. His eyes were narrowed like that of a cat's, and his very presence commanded authority - yet he was polite to every hopeful Mama who approached him. Dismissive, but polite.

"Ah, Lady Bridgerton," he spoke, near enough to you for you to hear his gruff monotone voice as he bent over to kiss the dowager viscountess's hand, "Thank you for the invitation, and happy birthday."

"It is an honour you attended, your grace."

The man nodded, chatting to her for a few moments longer as the noise and bustle returned to the room, so you couldn't hear the rest of it.

"Now is our chance," your stepmother said as the duke's conversation wrapped up. She quickly sped towards him. "Your grace!"

The duke paused, and half-turned so he was fully facing your brood.

"Lady Malton, Baronetess of Catury," she curtsied, "And this is my daughter, Grace," she gestured towards the girl.

When his eyes flicked to Tia, she hurried to introduce her, but when his eyes flicked to you, she remained silent.

"And you are?" he inquired.

Your eyes widened: you were rarely spoken to, "Y/N- Miss Y/N Malton," you corrected.

"Don't pay her any mind, your grace," your stepmother quickly said, pinching you in the side as subtly as she could which made you flinch - as it always did. You didn't notice the way the duke's beady eyes followed the interaction. "She isn't a debutante."

"She looks old enough to be." He was clearly referencing the fact you obviously had a few years on Grace.

"It is her own choice."

You couldn't help the scowl that itched at your eyebrows, and the duke couldn't help but notice it.

"Would you care for a dance with Grace?"

The duke's eyes flicked over your sister again, "I have no intentions of dancing this evening- if you excuse me."

And with that, he departed, just to be ambushed by yet another Mama.

Your stepmother turned and glared at you, "You ruined Grace's chances."

"I didn't do anything," you said simply.

"You spoke. You know you're not supposed to."

"He asked me a question."

"I respond to the questions about you."

"Mama," Grace interrupted, shooting you a sympathetic look, "Is that the Earl of Kilmartin over there?"

Lady Malton's head snapped in that direction, "So it is! He has returned from India."

You couldn't be more grateful to Grace for the distraction.

***

"Saunders," the duke, Mattheo, called from his work study in Riddle Manor, his London residence. It was merely a couple hours after he had returned from Lady Bridgerton's soirée.

The secretary hurried into the office, "Yes, your grace?"

"What do you know of the Malton family?"

Saunders paused, "Sir Vincent Malton?"

Mattheo nodded.

"He is married to Dame Daria Malton and has six children. He attended Eton and Cambridge, studying history."

"And of his children?"

"Two sons and four daughters, I believe."

"And what of Miss Y/N Malton?"

The secretary immediately recognised the name, "She is the oldest, your grace. She is one-and-twenty and well-known for not having debuted yet."

Mattheo frowned, leaning back in his chair, "Is there a way in which she is different from her siblings?"

"I-" the secretary thought for a moment, "I believe she has a different mother than her younger siblings, if that's what you mean."

"Lady Malton is not her mother?"

"Well, yes and no. The current Lady Malton is not her mother, but the Lady Malton before her was. She passed in childbirth, I believe."

Mattheo hummed, "I see."

"Is that all, your grace?"

"Prepare the carriage to journey to Malton House tomorrow morning, Saunders, and locate my mother's engagement ring."

Saunders' eyes widened, but he quickly nodded, "Of course, your grace."

Nothing made Mattheo angrier than cruel parents.

***

Lady Malton and Grace were up bright and early the next day, as all debutantes and their Mamas were after a social event. They were to dress in some of their nicer but not so fancy attire ready to sit in the upstairs drawing room in await for any callers they may receive in the downstairs drawing room. You, however, stayed tucked nicely into bed until a more reasonable hour, since your stepmother certainly wouldn't want to catch sight of you until lunchtime - if then.

Still, you rose from your slumber at around eleven o'clock and called for your lady's maid, getting dressed in a simple baby blue piece that you had purchased a few years ago. You rarely got new dresses under Lady Malton's reign.

"I'll take my breakfast in here, please, Melinda," you smiled.

***

The Duke of Covenshire had been up at an exceptionally early hour, having taken a ride on his favourite stallion at sunrise, to then return to his city house and retreat to his office for a few hours accompanied by some breakfast.

He was still there at eleven o'clock.

"Your grace," Saunders began after having knocked on the door, "The carriage is ready for you."

"And the ring?" the duke inquired.

"Here," the secretary presented it, "It was still safely in the dowager duchess's bed chamber."

Mattheo had seen no point in keeping it anywhere else since that room had remained unoccupied for quite some time now.

"Excellent," he murmured, "Now, let us make haste."

***

It wasn't a long journey to Malton House, so really it was no time at all by the time that the Covenshire carriage pulled up to the smaller but still grand home. There were two or three other carriages parked outside, likely belonging to other potential suitors.

Mattheo wasn't worried: he was a duke, after all, and the Maltons were merely baronets. They would jump at the opportunity to marry a daughter off to be a duchess.

After knocking on the door, he was greeted by a short balding man with a seemingly permanently curved eyebrow.

"Here for Miss Malton?" he asked.

"Yes," Mattheo replied, although he had a feeling they weren't referring to the same one.

"Name?"

"Mattheo Riddle, Duke of Covenshire."

The butler's eyes widened, "Right this way, your grace."

Mattheo was led through the hallway into the downstairs drawing room, where Lady Malton and Grace were perched on an orange settee. On the other side of Grace sat an older gentleman, meanwhile on the settee sat across from them were two others. One of them was roughly the same age as the first, whereas the other was much younger - closer to Grace's age.

"Your grace," Lady Malton instantly said, shooting up to curtsy.

"Lady Malton," Mattheo nodded, "May I speak with Sir Vincent?"

"Yes, yes, of course," the baronetess said with widened eyes, "I'll go fetch him at once."

Typically she would have sent a servant to complete such a task, but clearly the shock had consumed her to the point she sprung into action. Once she had departed the room, Mattheo turned his eyes to Grace and the other three gentlemen who were all staring at him curiously.

"Who are you gentlemen?" he asked.

"Edward Cann, Viscount of Sancourt," one of the older gentlemen introduced.

"Gareth Warner," the other older one spoke.

Mattheo couldn't help but question the audacity of an older man to pursue the hand of such a young woman when he didn't even possess a title. Still, his eyes turned to the youngest man.

"Sir Charles Robinson, Baronet of Rackney."

"And how old are you?" his eyes were still on Charles.

"Twenty, your grace."

Mattheo hummed, that was more appropriate for Grace. Unusual for a man to seek a wife at such an age, but not unheard of.

"Lord Cann and Mr Warner," he began, and they perked up at his address, "May I ask what the devil men of your age are doing pursuing such a young woman?"

They were clearly taken aback by his blunt honesty, as were the servants littered around the room.

"I certainly will have to rethink my family's business with your estates in light of such news."

And with apologies to Grace and Mattheo, the two older gentlemen quickly vanished from the room, moments before the Lord & Lady of the house made an appearance.

"Your grace," Sir Vincent spoke, holding out his hand, which Mattheo shook, "To what do I owe the honour?"

"May we proceed to a more private location?"

"Of course, right this way."

"Your presence won't be required any longer, Sir Charles," Lady Malton said, clearly confused at the absence of the two other gentlemen.

Mattheo interrupted, "Oh, I'm sure it will, Lady Malton. I wouldn't dismiss the young gentleman."

Before she could ask what he meant, he was being led out the drawing room and to the baronet's office.

"I believe you know what I am here for," Mattheo stated simply, after declining the offer of brandy.

"I shouldn't want to get my hopes up, your grace."

"I would like your daughter's hand in marriage."

Sir Vincent nodded, "Of course, I shall dower her fairly-"

"Unnecessary. I have no use for a dowry, no matter the size."

"Oh- okay," the baronet paused, "Which daughter is this?"

Mattheo almost frowned: was Sir Vincent not aware of his daughter's status in society? Perhaps he left such matters up to his wife.

"Miss Y/N Malton."

"You're the first suitor that we have received for her."

The duke's breath hitched.

"This is such a relief - of course, we will arrange the wedding right away."

"I would like to marry her quickly," Mattheo said, "We will need to procure a special license."

Sir Vincent nodded, "Whatever you wish, your grace. It is an honour to be your father-in-law."

Mattheo turned to leave after saying his thanks, but paused and faced the baronet again, "You should definitely consider Sir Charles Robinson to marry Miss Grace Malton, he is a fine young man."

The baronet was clearly confused at such a statement, but absently nodded nonetheless.

***

You had been shocked when your father called you down to the drawing room: you couldn't remember the last time that he had requested your presence. Not that he requested your sisters' presences either, you were pretty sure your brother Vincent was the only of his children he spoke to.

"Excellent news for our family," he began, with Lady Malton looking thrilled at what she expected him to say, "Excellent news indeed."

You almost rolled your eyes, expecting that you had simply been called down to receive the announcement of Grace's engagement.

"The Duke of Covenshire has proposed."

Lady Malton stood up, "This is fabulous news! Well done, Grace."

"No," Sir Vincent silenced his wife, "Well done, Y/N."

Your head snapped up.

What?

"Whatever do you mean, Father?"

"His grace has asked for your hand in marriage," you had never seen your father so happy, "And naturally I accepted."

Lady Malton stood in absolute horror.

"I was beginning to become worried about your lack of proposals," he continued, unaware of his wife's reaction, "But clearly God was holding out in await for this massive surprise."

"But- what about Grace?" Lady Malton finally spluttered out.

"I am in the process of discussing that matter with Sir Charles Robinson, the duke recommended him himself."

You noticed the way Grace smiled to herself at that and looked abashedly to the ground. Clearly she was happy with such an arrangement - had the duke known that and so used his influence to help her?

"His grace wishes to be married quickly."

And thus, at the end of the week, you were married.

***

You had no idea what a honeymoon night was supposed to entail. Typically, a Mama would give a bride-to-be 'the talk' the night before her wedding, but Lady Malton would never do such a motherly thing for you. Thus, you were left completely clueless.

Plus, apart from the exchange of your vows, you had hardly spoken to the duke before, so you really didn't know where the evening was going to take you as you stepped out of the carriage outside Riddle Manor. You were both to spend the night in his London home before beginning the three day journey to his countryside residence the next day. It was a typical agenda for newly weds.

You were introduced to the various staff, including your new lady's maids - you now had two of them, as opposed to one - before you were both led through to the dining room. Your eyes fell on the long dining table, with the two distanced ends laid and nothing more.

You grimaced.

"Is salmon not to your tastes?" your husband asked you.

"Tis a very formal set up," you explained simply, but said nothing more as you assumed one of the seats.

"I mostly take dinner in my work study, so this will be a rare occurrence."

You ate the entire meal in silence, and then it was time to be shown your bed chambers.

"This is the duchess' chamber," he gestured to the door, "You may redecorate it however you so wish."

You hummed.

"My chamber is next door - we have an adjoining door, of course."

You said nothing.

"Are you going to enter?"

"But what of our consummation?" you asked.

Mattheo paused - he hadn't expected you to be so blunt.

"Lady Malton did not give me a talk like she was supposed to," you explained, somewhat shyly, "I do not know what is meant to happen, but I know that something must."

"Right," he said slowly, "We will consummate."

***

You lay awake in bed next to the duke the next morning, unable to get the memories of the night prior out of your head. Never would you have guessed that that was how babies were made, something that felt so heavenly, so good. But, you were also confused, many women muttered about it in fear, as if their consummation was unenjoyable.

Perhaps it differed with each man. Regardless, with Mattheo, it was completely and entirely soul-consuming, and you wished to experience it a countless number of times over.

A knock sounded on the door, "Your graces, breakfast is ready."

Mattheo was still sound asleep, "We'll take it in here," you replied.

You weren't used to having power in a household.

Also, how did the servant know you weren't in the duchess' bed chamber?

Mattheo woke up once the servants had wheeled in the breakfast selection, and once you were both loosely dressed, you began eating. It was then that he began speaking.

"Now is as good a time as any to set out the details of this marriage," he said, making you look up from your eggs, "I married you because I can't stand when parents mistreat their children."

Your heart warmed at that: he had noticed how Lady Malton treated you?

"I do not intend for love, but obviously at some point there will need to be an heir," he said, "You may have conceived last night, but it is unlikely. In the probable case that you haven't, we can wait a couple years to produce one should you so wish."

You thought over what he was saying - perhaps part of you had hoped that he had fallen in love with you at first sight, but you knew that was childish. This was a marriage of convenience.

"I only have one condition when it comes to children," you said slowly.

"Which is?"

"That you are an involved father," you said, "Like the Bridgertons are known for being."

Memories flashed through Mattheo's mind of his childhood: his father's coldness and distance all throughout the years until he returned from Cambridge a grown man. Only then did the late duke want anything to do with his son.

"I shall be involved," he said.

***

You couldn't look Mattheo in the eyes, you soon realised. He scared you, not in the way that Lady Malton had, but in a way you didn't quite understand. He made you nervous, made you unable to speak more than a few words at a time. Not that you did speak much: the entire journey to Covenshire Hall had been very much one of silence. The only sound to accompany you was the wheels and hooves against the cobbled roads.

The nights were spent in inns, in separate bed chambers.

Covenshire Hall was enormous: far bigger than the Catury estate that you had spent half your childhood on. It made sense, obviously, you were no longer a mere baronet's daughter, but a duchess.

"Your graces," the butler greeted you as you stepped out the carriage, "Welcome."

"Dantle," Mattheo replied, "Gather all the servants in the entrance hall."

"Right away, your grace."

The man disappeared inside, and you soon had entered through the same doors that he had, to be greeted by the largest entry room that you had ever seen. Symmetrical stairs curved around the walls either side of you, carpeted in plush blue velvet. The walls were decorated in a branch-design, but the once deep maroon colour had faded over time: it was evident to you that there hadn't been a lady of the house in quite a few years.

And then, quite quickly, the room filled with lines of house staff - more than you had ever seen for one household before. You were introduced to them all, including the primary housekeeper, Ms Godley. She was an older woman, with mostly grey hair that still held evidence of her brunette days, and a lightly wrinkled face that seemed more to do with the permanent pursing of her lips rather than age. Her eyebrows were ghastly thin, much like the rest of her, which could only be described as bony. She wore a pleated black dress down to her ankles, suggesting that she was in mourning.

You smiled politely at her, but she did not return it.

"I will leave you in her capable hands," your husband said to you, "She will provide a tour of the grounds."

"Where are you going?" you couldn't help but ask.

"My office."

You watched as he left, before turning back to Ms Godley.

"Where shall we begin?" you asked, attempting to be friendly.

***

You didn't like Ms Godley - not one bit. She reminded you of your stepmother, except this time you didn't even have younger siblings to provide a distraction. It was quite evident that she wasn't particularly fond of you either, although you had no idea what you could have done.

"This is the nursery," the woman said tightly, "It has been empty for some years now."

Gazing around the room of faded yellows and purples, you were cast back to when you were in your nursery, though you always got the short end of the stick when it came to beds. Nonetheless, it had been a relatively pleasant time for you, back when your sisters were too young to notice that Lady Malton treated you differently, so you would all play together as children do.

You didn't want any of your children to feel left out.

"Your grace," Ms Godley said curtly, "We don't have all day."

You sighed, exiting the room.

***

Loneliness was a familiar emotion to you, so a week of solitude in Covenshire Hall wasn't all that much of a change from your old life, other than the fact you now had servants waiting on your hand and foot. Although, you were growing quite bored: at least with the Maltons, you were always distracted by gauging your stepmother's mood.

You decided that you needed a distraction, and since the prestigious house was in desperate need of a fresh lick of paint, you landed on redecorating.

"You called for me, your grace?" Ms Godley stood before you in the duchess' office that you had taken to using regularly.

"Yes," you stood up, walking around your desk, "I have a matter to discuss with you."

It took everything in you to act courageous in front of a woman so similar to Lady Malton.

"I wish to redecorate the house," you said simply.

By some miracle, Ms Godley's lips pursed even more.

"Starting with the entrance hall - since that is the first room guests see, then-"

"No."

You paused - was she allowed to say that to you? "No?"

"No. This estate is not a part of your lineage, you have no right to tamper with it."

The amount of bravery that it had taken for you to have this conversation with her, just for her to pull a line that sounded so eerily similar to Lady Malton's.

"I am the lady of the house," you said, but it was obvious you weren't speaking as surely of yourself as moments prior.

"The dowager duchess was never permitted to redecorate either," she said, "And I imagine that the late duke would especially not want somebody as measly as a baronet's daughter interfering with his heritage."

You stood in shock for a few moments, eventually managing to splutter out, "You are excused."

Once she was gone, you finally gave in to the panic consuming you, feeling your breath beginning to dramatically labour and push against your corset. You felt trapped, suffocated, like you had your entire childhood, and you didn't like it. You had to escape.

So, you did.

You weren't running away by any means: you just needed fresh air, and the woods on the Covenshire grounds seemed perfect to hide away for a while. Just a couple days ago, you had taken a walk through them. Of course, that was on one of the paths that navigated between the trees, this time you simply started running straight ahead once you breached the tree line.

But you could only go so far when you had to hitch up your thick heavy skirts to make progress, so it wasn't long before you collapsed against a tree, your lungs pounding against your rib cage which were in turn pounding against your corset.

It was then that floods poured out of your eyes and down your cheeks, leaving a sticky, puffy trail behind.

You should have known better.

Just because you were a duchess didn't mean you suddenly had control over your own life.

You failed to notice the looming grey clouds gathering above, up until the sky thundered, and the familiar trickle of heavy rain commenced.

***

Mattheo was sat in his office, going over estate finances, when a knock sounded on the door.

"Your grace?"

He hated being interrupted during work, but still said a grumbled, "Come in."

"I am so sorry to disturb you, your grace," Dantle said, bowing his head, "But the duchess appears to be missing."

Mattheo's head shot up, "Missing, you say?"

"Ms Godley was the last one to speak to her, approximately two hours ago."

"Where has she gone?" the duke was now standing up.

Dantle appeared uncomfortable, "I do not know, your grace. Apparently she ran down into the woods."

"Ran?" Mattheo felt his blood boil, "Have you gone out to look for her?"

"No, your grace, the storm-"

"The storm?" he saw red, "The bloody storm?" He then let out a sound somewhat adjacent to a growl before pushing past Dantle out his office.

He was going to find his wife.

***

You probably had pneumonia or something at this rate, you thought to yourself. Your body was completely freezing and soaked, and your lack of cloak was becoming apparent as a massive problem in terms of your well-being. You should have gone back inside the second the rain started, but that was when you were still in the depths of your upset. It wasn't until you were too cold to move did you calm down a bit more.

To be honest, you were about ready to accept your fate.

"Y/N!" a faint cry came from nearby, and as much as you wanted to call out and alert them of your location, your voice was weak.

By some miracle, the man - your husband - managed to locate you.

"Y/N, oh, God," he blasphemed, "Are you okay? What are you doing out here?"

You couldn't even reply.

Mattheo scooped you up into his arms and began making haste back towards the mansion that you shared.

"Stay with me," he murmured at irregular intervals, right up until you felt the warmth of a fireplace hit you on the cheeks. You were in your bed chamber, you realised, upon noticing the faded floral pink wall decor.

Your skin was so numb you hardly felt your husband begin to peel off all items of your clothing, including your undergarments. Typically, you would have felt embarrassed, but you were completely spent.

As he picked you up again and carried you through to the bathroom, where a bath had been prepared, you couldn't help but curl into him.

"I ordered it be run before I went to find you," he said softly - the softest you had ever heard him speak.

The warmth of the water felt heavenly.

"What happened, darling?"

You shivered, this time not because of the cold, but because of the nickname.

"Godley," you forced out between your blue lips.

"Ms Godley? What did she do?" he asked as he began to wet your hair.

"I wan- wanted to redecorate the house," your teeth were chattering, "She said I couldn't change anything."

Mattheo said nothing.

"It's- it's the way she said it," you clarified, not wanting him to think you were a brat who had simply been told 'no', "She was so mean."

"How did she say it?" you didn't miss the edge to his voice that hadn't been there before.

"She said it would upset the- the late duke - and that- that he especially wouldn't want a measly baronet's daughter to-" you choked on re-emerging sobs, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, my love," you felt him press a kiss to your forehead, "I will handle this."

***

After you had warmed up in the bath and been wrapped up in thick clothing, Mattheo gently escorted you to one of the larger drawing rooms, where, to your horror, every single staff member of the house was gathered. Including Ms Godley.

"It has come to my attention that the duchess is not receiving the respect she deserves in this household," your husband sent an icy glare in the housekeeper's direction, "As the lady of the house, it is her right to decorate our rooms however she so pleases."

Ms Godley's lips pursed.

"The redecoration that her grace desires will commence immediately," Mattheo gave a forced smile, "Follow her every instruction. Any questions?"

"What of the late duke?" Ms Godley asked.

"What of a man of whom is dead?"

"Surely you should respect his wishes."

"How I choose to treat my father's wishes is none of your concern, Ms Godley. You are overstepping."

The old woman opened her mouth to say something, but decidedly shut it before saying, "My apologies, your grace."

"Apologise to my wife as well."

"My apologies," Ms Godley gave a stiff curtsy.

You had been glancing nervously between your husband and the housekeeper throughout the entire exchange, feeling overwhelmingly put on the spot. It was the second after Ms Godley apologised to you that your chest tightened and you erupted in a coughing fit.

"Darling?" Mattheo asked worriedly as you fell forward.

"Can't- breathe-" you choked out.

You felt a hand press to your forehead.

"She's overheating," the duke said loudly, "Help me get her to bed. And call the doctor."

Murmurs of, "Right away, your grace," came in reply.

"You're going to be okay," Mattheo said softly to you as he picked you up for the millionth time that day, "You must be."

***

The doctors concluded that you were pneumonic, which had been what everyone suspected but were too scared to say in front of you. But, you weren't an idiot, and understood what your symptoms meant.

There was a good chance that you would die.

It was dark outside: it often was when you came to from your fever dream episodes, for a few minutes of painful consciousness. You lurched up in bed, quickly producing horrific gurgling coughs and splutters, unable to stop yourself from groaning in pain in between. Tears pricked at your eyes as you placed a hand on your chest, your blurred vision just about making out the duke running in from the door between your bed chambers.

Mattheo grabbed the cloth from your bedside table and dipped it into the pot of water placed for this occasion, hurrying to press it to your burning forehead. You let out a brief sigh of relief, before you began coughing again.

He rubbed your back, "You can get through this."

You weren't sure if you could, in fact, you felt deathly, as it were. But, your husband's words gave you a sense of strength and hope, and it was all you could do but nod after the coughing subsided.

"If- if I make it," you murmured, falling back on to the pillows. Your voice was low and cracked. "Please- may we go to London?"

"Whatever for?"

"I..." you trailed off, "I would like to make friends."

And before Mattheo could question you further, you drifted back into unconsciousness and shallow breathing.

***

It was three days later, on a chilly but sunny morning, when you awoke naturally instead of being forced awake by coughs. Your breathing felt stronger, and you weren't overheating, which was the best feeling you had felt in forever.

You heard voices outside your door.

"Is she doing any better, your grace?" who you assumed to be the doctor asked.

"We were about to check," your husband's familiar voice replied.

The door opened, and you blinked a few times to clear your vision as the two men approached you.

"Mattheo," you said softly, your words still sore to speak.

"You're awake," he said simply, pressing his hand to your forehead. The physical contact comforted you.

"How do you feel?" the doctor asked.

"Better."

He raised his eyebrows, "In what way?"

"Every way."

He performed a more thorough examination, and concluded that while you likely still had a couple more days of illness, you had pushed through the worst of it and were well on your way to recovery. You were relieved to hear that, but even more relieved to finally be able to take a bath and and cleanse yourself.

"You wanted to return to London," Mattheo said simply at dinner that night, as he was taking it in your room with you.

"I said that?" you asked. You knew that it was what you wished to do, you just couldn't recall mentioning it to your husband.

He hummed, "While you were feverish."

He had been taking care of you?

"Well, yes- I wish to finally have a social circle."

"You mentioned that also."

You said nothing.

"Once you are fully returned to health, we shall make the journey," he said simply.

You couldn't help but beam, "Really?"

"Really."

"Thank you- thank you so much."

He shook his head, as if to say 'don't thank me'.

"I'm so glad you're my husband."

Mattheo chuckled, "I'll take care of you no matter what, darling."

***

Two weeks later, and the doctor had determined that you were back to being healthy and thus your convalescence was able to come to an end. It was then arranged for you and Mattheo to return to London for the remainder of the season but three days later, once you would have passed an appropriate honeymoon duration. While you were terribly excited to be able to properly socialise, you were also nervous. For one, your stepmother would be there, and for two, you weren't that experienced with the correct customs for socialising. The only comforting factor was that your husband would be there with you: a man who you held a lot of adoration for, and felt an immense amount of comfort from.

After the pneumonia episode, he hadn't distanced himself quite so much. Granted, you still hadn't engaged in your wedding night type of intimacy again yet, but you ate meals together, and frequently found yourself wandering over to his bed chamber in the night. The first time you had done it, it had been most nerve-wracking.

It had been a few days since you had snapped out of the fever dream episode, and were feeling much more energetic. Unfortunately, you had also been dealing with bouts of insomnia, which you suspected had something to do with your fear of falling asleep and re-entering the fever dream. Like usual, you found yourself up at the early hours of the morning, only the exhaustion was catching up to you and you could feel your chest tighten as hysteric panic began to set in.

Before you completely freaked out, you forced yourself up and over to the adjoining door, aiming to seek comfort from Mattheo even if the prospect of doing so petrified you. He stirred the second that you entered the room, at least it appeared like he did from what you could make out in the shadows. "Y/N?" he murmured.

You let out a sob.

"Come here," he said without hesitation and you gladly obliged, finding that you could finally drift into a slumber once in his arms.

And, thus, you went to him whenever you couldn't sleep.

But, now, you were in the carriage back to London, with your hands folded neatly in your lap and your husband sat across from you. You weren't sure why, but there was an awkward silence present.

***

Mattheo was conflicted.

He didn't know why he cared so deeply for you, why he was so willing to aid you whenever you were in need.

A strangled, screaming part of himself deep inside knew exactly why he felt how he did, but the part of him that he listened to feigned ignorance and told him it was simply expected of him to take care of his wife.

But the thing that confused him the most was the fact he felt the urge to tell you about his childhood, about his father, and about the lack of family and love he had endured. Why would he want to tell you such personal information that didn't even matter any longer, since the cause of it was dead?

Why did you make him feel this way?

"Mattheo?" he looked up at you sat opposite him. Your voice sounded small and timid.

"Yes?"

"Are you mad at me?"

He could have sworn he actually felt the searing pain of his heart breaking at that moment. He wasn't sure he was capable of being mad at you. "Of course not, why ever would you think that?"

You gave a gentle shrug, "You're quieter than normal."

"I'm often quiet." It was true: he was often regarded as a grumpy and brooding individual.

"Yes," you said tightly, "But not like this."

It stunned him how easily you could read him, but, then again, maybe he had never been close enough to anyone for them to know him. Maybe his emotions were obvious to anyone who cared enough to try and figure them out.

"Do you not wish to return to London?"

Mattheo paused for a moment. He hadn't put any thought into whether or not he wanted to go back to the capital, but initially it seemed like an obvious answer since he had always despised the season. Overbearing Mamas and their brood of debutante daughters were his idea of hell, but now he felt different. He realised that he did in fact want to go to London, not just because he was now married and off the Mamas' radar, but because you wanted to go. Mattheo was faced with the overwhelming realisation that he simply wanted to do whatever you wanted to do.

"Oh, dear, you don't, do you? We can turn around," you said quickly, making him snap out of his thoughts.

"No," he rushed to say, "We shall go to London."

"But you don't want to go."

"I do."

"But-"

"We are going, and that's final."

You opened your mouth to say something more, but decided against it, and turned your gaze to out the window.

The rest of the journey was silent.

***

"We need to discuss the rules for our time here," Mattheo said once you had settled into Riddle Manor for some dinner.

"We do?"

He hummed, "I will not be attending every social event we are invited to."

"But- people will think our marriage is rocky if you're not with me. The ton will talk, they always do."

"I said not every social event," he reminded, "I will attend some."

"You have to attend the first one," you said, "That one is the most important."

Mattheo agreed, "Of course, but from then on, it will be events here and there. You are welcome to attend alone."

You deflated a bit, but nodded your head, "Maybe we can host a ball at some point."

His eyebrows raised. Riddle Manor hadn't been the location of a ball in almost thirty years - there had been no lady of the house to host it.

"Perhaps," he replied pensively.

***

The next social event, to Mattheo's great horror, was the infamous Smythe-Smith musicale. Otherwise known as a torturous cacophony of four tone-deaf girls of whom were trusted with instruments that should have undoubtably never been allowed within five feet of them. You had heard what the quartet were like, having never attended yourself, and - honestly - you were rather excited to finally be a part of an inside joke of the ton that you had been left out of. Your husband was not nearly so enthusiastic, having attended exactly twice before, but not for a good many years.

Unfortunately, as selfish a woman as Lady Malton was, she was more than willing to sacrifice her hearing in order to secure impressive marriages for all of her (biological) daughters. So, you weren't surprised to enter the Smythe-Smith ballroom and see her stood with Grace closely by her side.

"Introducing, the Duke and Duchess of Covenshire," the man stood by the door announced, making your half-sister and stepmother quickly turn their attentions in your direction.

You squeezed Mattheo's arm tightly, to which he patted your hand and nodded when your family members approached.

"Your grace," Lady Malton gave a gentle curtsy - to Mattheo, not you, "How fares your marriage?"

It was a question that bordered on the edge of improper for polite society. "Most excellent," the duke replied coolly, making you smile to yourself.

Lady Malton gave the politest smile her sour face could muster.

"What brings you here?" Mattheo asked, trying to gauge why Lady Malton would put herself through the Smythe-Smith musicale with no daughters on the marriage mart.

"Marriage prospects, of course."

"Is Miss Grace Malton not engaged to Sir Charles?" he asked.

"Well- uh- yes."

The duke raised an eyebrow at the woman, and you must say that you were thoroughly enjoying this interaction.

"They shall be married at the end of the week," she said reluctantly, "But until the vows are complete, things can change."

That was when you realised: Lady Malton was praying on securing a last-minute proposal from someone of a higher status than Sir Charles. If it meant marrying into more wealth and more powerful connections, surely your father would agree to it.

"You should come to the wedding," Grace blurted out, "We thought you would still be in the country, so we didn't send an invitation."

You knew the real reason that you hadn't received an invitation was because Lady Malton would have taken control of all the wedding arrangements, and you were most certainly not on her invite list. But, she couldn't revoke the invitation to the duke's face and in a public setting, so she forced herself to smile and agree.

"That would be lovely," you beamed, purposefully showing as much enthusiasm as possible, simply to upset your stepmother, "Now, if you excuse us, I wish to secure front row seats."

Multiple people around you stared at you like you were insane - they just wouldn't understand your motivations.

"Trust me, front row seats are never the ones that need to be fought for here," Mattheo whispered to you as you both moved over to the rows of chairs set up.

You shrugged, "You're sitting with me whether you like it or not."

"Ah, Lady Danbury," he spoke as you came face to face with the renowned old woman sat in the very central front seat.

"Your grace," she raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Come to enjoy the musicale?" your husband asked, the sarcastic undertone impossible to miss - at least to you.

"But, of course," Lady Danbury smiled, "I attend every year."

You desperately wanted to enter the conversation, but you didn't know how.

"You're the eldest Miss Malton, aren't you?" she said towards you, making you freeze on the spot.

"Uh, yes - Lady Riddle now, actually."

She hummed, waving her cane around despite being sat, "Yes, Duchess of Covenshire. Quite grand, no?"

You awkwardly smiled.

The dowager countess turned her attentions back to Mattheo, "I must admit, I didn't think you would marry for quite some time, your grace."

"Nor did I," he simply replied, which for some reason, slightly hurt you. You had inconvenienced his life: you were a burden to him as a result of him being a good person.

"I fear that love does tend to have the effect of uprooting our lives," Lady Danbury said wistfully, a gentler emotion than you had ever witnessed on her from afar at the few social gatherings you had been allowed at.

Love.

"I only wish I had been so lucky as to have had it been with my husband."

You looked up in surprise. To be honest, you knew very little of the dowager countess' life: she had been a widow for as long as you had been alive, so it was hard to imagine her having a husband. All you knew was that she was widowed very young, and chose to never remarry. Part of you had assumed that it was because of how much she loved her husband, like the dowager Viscountess Bridgerton. It was clear now that you were wrong, but you knew better than to pry.

"Alas, let us enjoy this musicale," she said with a glint in her eye, "It is meant to be a joyous occasion, after all."

You knew she said it sarcastically, but, for you, this was indeed a joyous occasion. You were more than thrilled to finally be a part of London society - the ton.

Sparing a glass in Mattheo's direction, you were surprised to see that he was already looking at you.

***

The duke did not attend another social event with you for the rest of the week, but almost every night you were out. It was strange, not needing to be chaperoned as a married woman, but you quite enjoyed it.

The first two events alone you spent as a wallflower - albeit a married one - which weren't so enjoyable. But, once people realised that the Duchess of Covenshire was present at the social events, you began attracting a lot of attention from fellow ladies who aspired to be friends with someone of such a powerful status. Soon, you were mingling with the ton as if you had always done so, although your social skills were still inept. Thankfully, most were willing to overlook this due to you being a duchess.

Then, your sister's wedding came around, and it meant that you would have your second outing with your husband accompanying you. That made you more excited than you were willing to admit.

"Blue is most becoming on you," Mattheo spoke from behind you, making you jump. You hadn't heard him enter your bed chamber.

"Thank you," you replied, "I had it tailored on Tuesday."

"How much?"

You blanched - it had been quite expensive. You had felt guilty at the time, but found it difficult to say no to the Madam who had been dressing you.

"Darling, you are free to spend my money, I am simply curious," he reassured you, "My wife deserves only the best, after all."

Butterflies swarmed in your stomach. Was it normal - for you to feel this way towards your husband when it was merely a marriage of convenience? You were snapped out of your thoughts when he moved closer to you and began kissing along your neck.

"Mattheo," you murmured.

He hummed, "Shame you're already dressed," and then he reluctantly pulled back, "But, we must depart now anyway."

That was the first hint you had received that he wanted to repeat the intimacies of your consummation. And it made your skin feel hot and prickly.

***

Your half-sister was a gorgeous bride: her elegant dress matching her eye colour and making her glistening smile seem bright. It was obvious that she was elated to be with Sir Charles, the incredibly young baronet who hung off her every word. One could only describe it as a love match.

"Thank you," you said to Mattheo, who was stood next to you as you applauded the newly weds.

"For what?"

"For recommending Sir Charles - and for marrying me."

He chuckled, "There is no need to thank me, darling. I can hardly complain about having a breath-taking wife, can I?"

Yet again, butterflies, and the overwhelming sense of desire.

Soon, it was time for the first dance of the newly married couple, celebrated back at Sir Charles' London residence. After they danced the first number alone, more couples joined the dance floor for a waltz. You couldn't help but look up at your husband hopefully.

He sighed fondly and held out his hand, "My lady?"

"My lord," you murmured, taking his hand and allowing him to lead you on to the dance floor.

As you moved into position, you found yourself avoiding looking at Mattheo's face, as for some reason it scared you. Maybe it was the proximity, or the emotions you had been consistently feeling for the last few days. Regardless, you felt timid.

"Darling?" your stomach flipped, and you were forced to meet his eyes.

"Yes?"

"I prefer it when you look at me," Mattheo muttered before he could stop the words from tumbling out. Momentarily, he froze, unable to ignore the way his heart burned in his chest.

"Okay," you said breathlessly, now not being able to tear your eyes away from him.

"You're so perfect."

A lump formed in your throat, "No one's perfect."

"Perfect for me," he said so quietly you almost didn't hear, just as the dance came to an end.

You stood in silence for a few moments, unable to process his words.

Eventually, you spoke, "Mattheo, I- I..."

The look in his eyes beckoned you on.

"Heaven knows I know nothing of love nor what it's like to be loved, but- but I think I love you."

His expression was unreadable, and you felt as if you had said the wrong thing, right up until, "I think I love you too."

God, why were tears pricking in your eyes?

No one had ever said that to you before.

And then you shoved yourself into his arms, desperately seeking warmth and affection as if it were your life line. The other people at the wedding and propriety be damned.

Mattheo moved his head to whisper in your ear.

"All's well that ends well to end up with you."

————————————————

masterlist

written; 09/08/2023 —> 04/10/2023 published;05/10/2023 edited; —/—/——

#harry potter #hp oneshot #hp #hp fanfic #harry potter oneshot #fluff #harry potter fanfic #angst #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x you #mattheo x y/n #mattheo #marriage of convenience #bridgerton au #hurt comfort #strangers to lovers #period au

[pedriscroquettes]

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐙𝐎𝐍𝐄 – GAVI

summary. fighting for the top spot of your class is hard when the boy next door is set on beating you at everything.

warnings. academic rival!gavi,f!oral, academic exhaustion, & various mentions of golf.

a/n. finally getting to my follower bash lol golf vocabulary

you sighed in frustration as you failed to solve the equation, again. the work on your notebook staring back at you as if to make fun of you. you stand up from your desk immediately wincing at the pain of having your foot asleep for hours. you’d think you’d be used to it by now due to how many hours you spent seated daily.

a faint knock is heard from outside your door. you limp as you walk towards the door to open it. your dad awaits you on the other side — the other side of the door separating you from society — with an awkward smile. he hated seeing you like this, overworked that is, he always offered to hire a tutor but you always refused. you were privileged, always having the money to advance your studies but you insisted on doing everything yourself after all you wouldn’t have tutors with you at your future job.

“you know i could always ask mr. páez?” he suggests hoping to finally have you rest.

your eyes go wide at his suggestion. your father had surely gone insane. you couldn’t believe he was suggesting having gavi help you. the one thing standing between you and the first rank of your class was the sevillian. the two of you being tied for the last two years, you couldn’t let him know you were struggling with such a simple problem.

“and lose my dignity? no. i probably did something wrong when solving i’ll figure it out.” you paced around the room.

“alright. don’t stress yourself out. you can always ask your professor for help.” he sighs as he heads to his room.

except you couldn’t. you had something to prove and you would do it yourself even if it cost you your friends and social life. most especially you couldn’t lose your number one spot to gavi of all people. growing up with him had been a nightmare to your dad and his parents. the two of you constantly tried to one up each other in every subject, including sports. his parents spending endless amounts of money making sure he’d get a spot on the spanish team like he wished all his life and your father despite being a single one always made sure you were up to lessons in golf.

gavi would score a hat trick one day and the next you’d score an eagle. the day he made the real betis academy he didn’t even celebrate knowing you’d somehow find a way to surpass his achievement. and you did scoring private lessons with annika sörenstam. it also didn’t help that your parents were close friends always spending time with each other — analyzing each others weaknesses and strengths — it was an exhausting predicament. you didn’t even understand why he wanted the number one spot he already had his dream as professional football player secured.

you spent the next two hours revising your notes trying to remember how to solve a simple equation. reviewing your own work you realized you had forgotten to square root a number and instead of feeling accomplished when you turned in your assignment all you felt was embarrassment. specifically when you noticed gavi had turned in the assignment hours earlier. you could’ve cried in that moment but instead you changed into your workout clothes and grabbed yours clubs immediately heading towards the neighborhood’s driving range.

it was usually closed during this time of day but you were one of the few allowed to use it whenever you wanted. the owner of the country club along with the rest of the neighborhood expected you to make your LPGA tour debut sometime this year and thus let you use the range at any time of the day. the driving range was the only time you found peace these days. your father had expected you to outgrow the sport that eventually the pressure would get to you but it was the opposite. the sport brought you peace.

the sound of your iron hitting the ball over and over again was music to your ears. you stared as the pathway of each ball was straighter than the previous one. the faint light that illuminated the end of the driving range allowing you to see how far the balls landed. you were about to switch to your driver when the sound of leaves rustling interrupts your nightly routine. you ignore it at first thinking it’s probably just squirrels but then the faint noise turns into footsteps.

you clutch your driver scared as to what is hiding amongst the darkness. a figure emerges from the other end of the driving range and you’re about to yell for help when you recognize the gray nike tech they’re wearing. of course he was awake as well and that’s when you remember the football field is on the other side of the range. you thought it was funny how the two of you would always find time for your sports.

“do you ever sleep?” he’s the first one to break the awkward silence between the two of you.

“if i did you’d be ranked first.” you reply curtly before swinging your driver aiming your ball even further than before.

“you know some of your balls end up on my field.” he changes the subject.

“how do you know they’re mine?” you place your driver into your bag and take off your glove. you could relax for a few minutes. at least while the brunette bothered you.

“you’re the only one capable of swinging them that far.” he shrugs.

it was true. your competitiveness had allowed you to find motivation every time you swung any of your clubs. it also didn’t help that your dad would take you to the PGA Tour Championship every year and you always wanted to swing the ball like tiger woods or rory mcilroy. you were truly a nightmare for your trainers and your father never wanting to leave the course before seven pm.

“why are you here gavi?” you turn around to face him. he looked like you, tired and stressed. his eye bags almost as dark as yours. his hair messy but it fit him in a way. you realized he was probably running drills since he had an away game with the academy this weekend.

“how do you do it?” he steps closer analyzing you. he takes his hoodie off in the practice allowing for the dimly lit street light to shine on his hair. “how do you deal with all the pressure?”

there had only been one previous conversation between the two of you where you forgot about your stupid rivalry and helped each other out. it had unfortunately led to a very awkward kiss between the two of you. a kiss that hadn’t been brought up sense and placed into the back of your mind.

“i don’t. it’s literally two in the morning and i’m practicing my swing.” you let out a deep breath. “you?”

“used to have been able to calm myself down with gummies but they don’t work for me anymore.” he places his hands into his pockets suddenly embarrassed at his oversharing. “been trying to find another way to ground myself but even football can’t do that for me right now.”

there’s a loud silence between the two of you. his suddenly burst of oversharing breaking boundaries that had been pre-established between you and him. you barely notice the way he gets closer to you almost as if you let him get near you.

“gavi no offense but why are you telling me all this?” you say with valid points as the brunette had never once tried to make an effort to talk to you before.

there’s a long pause between your question and his answer. he debates on whether he should he completely honest with you or to compress his feelings for even no longer.

“because i hate the way everyone just likes you and the way you sailed through school and can work for hours on end without getting tired and the fact that you just did work for two days straight and still look perfect, because you always do-“ his eyes go wide at how much he’s confessed already. “it’s not fair that you can just be relaxed after all th-”

“sailed? sailed?!” you simply stared at him with disbelief. “gavi i worked my ass off to get to where i am today. my dad didn’t pay for me to have advantages, i didn’t get everything handed to me on a silver platter, i did it on my own. do you realize how many hours i spend daily on my work? on making sure you don’t take away my spot?” your voice roars through the empty driving range.

“i didn’t-”

“no. let me finish gavi.” you continue your rant. “also it’s not fair that i can be relaxed? you think this is relaxing? swinging golf balls at two in the morning? you’re an unbelievable conceited prick. you don’t even need the number one spot anyways you have a guaranteed spot for club and country. you’re set for life?!” you stare at him with utter disgust.

“you’re set for life too? your dad literally owns the biggest food provider in sevilla you’re guaranteed a job at his company.” he fights back. “you’re nothing but a brat.”

he drives you against the hard cold wall of the concessions stand with each harsh word he says. his insults grow harsher but you hardly pay attention the veins in his neck gaining your attention with every hateful word he says. maybe it’s the lack of sleep or vitamins in your body but you suddenly forget he’s the guy separating you from achieving your lifelong dream of disassociating yourself from your dad’s company.

he notices your thoughtful glare as he continues on and on with his rant without any interruption from you. your eyes digging into his in a way they never have. his hand creeping too close to your face and not to harm you but rather to just feel your warm cheeks against his palm. the two of you get lost in each other’s stress and pain. his lips finding their way to yours in a dominant kiss.

it’s embarrassing for the two of you just how quickly you forget about your hatred for each other. maybe you’d go back to despising each other for pursuing each others dreams after the kiss but right now you could only find a stress reliever in each other. his lips are soft but harsh on yours. you’re not looking for a sweet moment but rather a quick and dominant one to forget about your current problems. many groans leave your lips as he makes his way from your lips to your neck.

he’s careful not to leave any marks but he attacks your neck in a pleasuring way. his hands digging into your hips as you adjust your neck to give him more access. he carefully unzips your jacket careful to not damage it. he’s not sure if it’s because he hasn’t gotten laid in months but as soon as he sees your laced bra something shifts in his mind. his kisses trail down from your neck to the valley of your breasts. this time he sucks above your right breast intentionally leaving a mark.

he looks up to your pleading eyes. he knows your look. so he gets to the point, kneeling down, and with your leg on his shoulder. he drags his hand up teasingly until his fingers are practically teasing your core. your panties ruined from your wetness he quickly pulls them down immediately stuffing them into his pocket.

“can i?” he asks one more time to confirm.

“mhm.” is all you can afford to moan.

“i need words princess.”

“fuck. yes gavi.” you groan.

he starts slowly kissing your thighs up to your aching core. his fingers digging into your thighs to spread them apart more to give him full access. you audibly moan as his tongue makes contact with your folds. your hands digging into his hair pulling on it the more he licks. his tongue moving from your folds to your hole causing you to lose balance at the pleasure. but luckily he’s there to keep your balance. you can’t help yourself from grinding into his face his nose beginning to come in contact with your core.

he continues licking you for a little before bringing his finger to your core teasing you with it. he drags it up and down your thigh and above your core just to tease you.

“do you want my fingers?” he asks with a sly smirk.

“yes. fuck.” you lean your head backwards.

he slides his finger through your folds lubricating it with your wetness before bringing it to your hole slowly inserting it. he groans at sight of you clenching around his finger. he pumps his finger in and out before adding his tongue again. the two of them providing a mind blowing experience for you. he manages to hit the spot with his finger curling his finger to reach an unexplainable amount of pleasure.

“c’mon baby. let all that stress out.” he moans as he puts in a second finger. it’s almost embarrassing the way you melt into his touch.

you don’t realize that gavi finds this intimate moment just as pleasurable as you do. the way your leg wraps around his shoulder, the way your fingers grip his hair, and your high pitched moans all sent shockwaves down his body. he wasn’t going to admit but all his previous sexual experiences consisted of jerking himself off to some random chick on the internet. this didn’t even compare to the real thing. having you tremble under his touch was intoxicating.

he starts feeling you shake under him realizing you’re close to achieving your high. all you need is one final push. he adds a third finger and sucks at your folds like a mad man. the knot that had formed in your stomach breaking loose as you cum all over his face. your hand holding his tightly as you reach your orgasm. he licks you slowly as you come down from your high. eventually finding the willpower to step away from you.

you bring him towards you kissing him. his lips tender and full of your juices you can practically taste yourself. his hand wrapping around the back of your head to bring you closer to him to deepen the kiss. the two of you briefly forgetting that tomorrow you’ll be back at each others throat. his brown eyes bore into yours and somehow you think you’ve found a comfort zone where you can relieve your stress.

#uhm idk spent all night on this 😍 #pablo gavi smut #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi x reader #gavi smut #gavi x reader #gavi imagine #football imagine #football smut #gabri’s 800 bash

[writingforatwistedworld]

just thought of something random — shower thoughts. So, you know how even if you score 0 on twistunes it still counts as “clearing it”? Imagine you doing that with a self aware au. to make it funny, how about riddle, Vil, and Sebek

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, self-destructive behavior, violence, abusive behavior, unhealthy lifestyle, murder, religion, obsessive themes

Riddle Rosehearts/Vil Schoenheit/Sebek Zigvolt-Scoring 0 whilst playing Twistunes

Here you are, our (perhaps) determined twistunes player, usually (or maybe not) trying your best

And that is fine and dandy and lalala happy happy

The TWST cast, however, doesn't see the twistunes as rhythm mini games though

For them, you are guiding them in some sort of task, not hearing the huge orchestra that appeared out of nowhere

There is always your guiding hand, reassuring that things go right even when a certain feline (*cough* not looking at you Grim*cough*) decides to act all high and mighty

Until, one day, there you are not helping anymore

Another splendid day to do your most splendid bidding... in the form of baking a cake

Yeah, I know, what daunting task you have layed upon him!

But he know he doesn't need to worry. After all, you are there to help him (not like his magic could do that for him in one second I mean come on there has to be a spell to crack some eggs and spill some milk ISN'T SLEEPING BEAUTY CANON OVER THERE??!)

He picks up the whisk... and nothing

Ok... maybe you just weren't looking! So he puts it down and then picks it up again

Nothing… Aren't you funny! Messing with him like that… (No pls help he is dying on the inside has he broken a rule? He followed rule 199 perfectly, wear blue if you need to whisk eggs)

One second later and he is panicking

This is a test, right?

If you could look through the coding on the other side you would see a panicking riddle who is this close to setting the kitchen on fire

At least that is the case until Trey finally steps in and decides to help his childhood friend out

After everything is finally over, Riddle is panicking

He has lost your favor, you didn't help him with this mighty task: shoving dough into an oven

Riddle will without any question learn how to bake cakes

Heartslabyul will eat salty snacks after dinner for a while but ok, unlike other things Riddle has done in your name this is rather tame

That does not mean he is kind to himself though

He will deprive himself of anything that makes him happy. Whether that is cake or his precious time with his friends

Sooner than later he is once more the red tyrant on his throne, “chopping” heads off all the time once more.

But everything but imperfection for you

Vil was just practicing dancing for that competition again

He took great pride in being guided by you

After all, who could say they were being taught dancing by the personification of perfection itself? (Although he was surprised that you knew modern dances, most of the time you were pictured in more traditional and old-fashioned settings)

Until suddenly you didn't guide him anymore

And thus, the floor and Vils face became very good acquaintances (You could hear Rook screaming from somewhere "Pas le visage!")

On that day Vil learned that your guidance had one up and downside

The up was, he always danced perfectly. The down, he forgot how to do it on his own

Now, we are talking about mister I-have-at-least-500-Thaumarks-on-my-face-in-makeup

So of course he is going overboard immediately

"Oh how nice, Vil Schoenheit is practicing"- No. This guy has gotten a warning from his doctor that he needs to stop because otherwise his legs could sustain damage from so much training

Epel? Well Epel is living in hell right now. Poor little apple gets the full brunt of his frustration

Overall, Vil gets toxic, and I don't mean just toxic but toxic toxic, but what about his more private life?

Well, he is just miserable, and horrible to himself, but most of all miserable

He turns back to his self before his overblot, being unnervingly perfect, having absolutely no chill when it's about being his best self

But there has to be a reason why you have abandoned him. You are his muse, the reason why he forced Epel into a routine that can only be described with "uh... help?"

But enough excuses! He had his salad and now he needs to train. His doctor? Well his doctor doesn't want to achieve being close to you so what does he know

(He got send into the hospital with a broken leg later that day. Talk about self-destructive behavior)

(ouch, my ears)

Let's assume that Sebek gets a twistune in which he practices his skills with the sword

He thought you were proud of him, you helping him to become stronger so he could fulfill your bidding (well-seasoned yandere readers what I mean)

Then, he felt your guidance slipping like the sword now sticking dangerously close to his foot in the ground

Many screams, one description: panic

When Lilia heard the not so crocodile-y crocodile scream bloody murder on the outside he thought that someone just didn't speak fondly enough for Sebek about Malleus

So wannabe Batman was more than surprised when he learned that you just “abandoned” his student

This leads to now, Sebek sitting in front of the small altar he has in his room (a trademark of Valley of Roses students)

Seek isn't Malleus (I know, shockers) so there isn't gold

But what if there is something different he can offer you? You left him when he was using his sword so could you want… (No Sebek, no, stop it)

Suddenly disappearances happen all over the school

Weirdly, they seem mostly from Sunset Savanna or the Shaftlands… the two places where you are least seen as an alrighty ruler/God and more as an inspiration

Such a shame that the officer hired to look into this was also from the Shaftlands. Guess that adds to the pile of disappearances

All whilst this is happening Sebek is busy cleaning his clothing and sword. Can't be dirty when he prays to you

With hope in his voice he tells you about his deeds but why aren't you coming back? Is it not enough? It's not.. enough…

This world is filthy, he says. This world needs to be cleaned of the pests that don't show you the loyalty and respect, he says.

But what do you say? Exactly. Nothing.

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst x reader #self aware au #twst riddle x reader #twst riddle #twst vil #twst vil x reader #twst sebek #yandere riddle #riddle x reader #yandere riddle x reader #yandere riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #twisted wonderland riddle #vil schoenheit #yandere vil schoenheit #yandere vil x reader #vil x reader #yandere vil #vil schoenheit x reader #twisted wonderland vil #twisted wonderland sebek #yandere sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek x reader #yandere sebek x reader #yandere sebek #sebek zigvolt

[silkspunweb]

In the Rain

w.c.: 1.7k

it was raining really hard last week and I kept thinking about some of my favorite Higuruma drabbles (like pamakali's or threadbaresweater's, both who I'm too shy to tag)

it's smut. soft smut, but still smut.

He stuttered his hips once, twice, then once more again to fully sink into his lover. Wet patters could be heard downpouring above their little apartment, but the two paid no mind to the rain. Why pay attention to anything other than the warmth between them where soft heated flesh met. 

It was forecast to be the heaviest rain of the year, thus ruining what was supposed to be a day at the amusement park. Halfway there it began to drizzle, and Hiromi had to think quickly before his beloved could catch a cold. Let's wait at the bus stop. They brushed fingertips and refused to let go of the other. Darling, the forecast said that the rain won't let up any time soon. She frowned. That's too bad. His slant eyes softened. I'm so sorry, I should've checked. She brought a hand to his face. There was no way you could've known. It could've happened to anyone. She ran her thumb to smoothen his frown, earning her a soft peck. With how heavily it poured, the two had no chance of grabbing a taxi. So with a shy smile and a raised brow, there was a silent agreement, and they ran. 

Making their way into the apartment, out of breath and still panting, Hiromi's jacket was playfully thrown at him with a splat. A fit of giggles ensued. And you thought that the jacket would help. She poked him in the stomach. Well you're a tad drier than me now, aren't you? He wrung said jacket over her already soaked hair. Hiro, the floor! She gasped as he haphazardly shoved his shoes off and ran inside, leaving her at the shoe rack. Muffled laughter could be heard in the hallways and she stood there scoffing, not wanting to track more water on their dark walnut floor. There was a lively crackle before she heard faint squishy padding. 

He came back with three towels: one around his neck, one in his hands, and one dragged in by his foot on the floor. Here. He chuckled as he wrapped a towel over her shoulders and pulled her in, nosing her cheek after she rolled her eyes at him. I'm soaked Hiro, it wasn't funny. He hummed. It was a little funny. See, you're even smiling. He gave her a chaste kiss. Once on the lips, another on the cheek, more and more until it led him to pepper kisses onto her damp neck. You're so lovely. He sighed, content with resting his head on her shoulder. She stood there taking the weight of his damp hair, his head, his body, as well as the weight of his love. 

They stood there for a moment rocking back and forth in soaked clothes and hushed affections. She pulled away for just a second when she met his gaze, raw and passionate with utter adoration for her in spite of being horribly disheveled with wet hair plastered on like a pitiful kitten. Her breath hitched, leaning in without realizing it as her hands latched onto his soaked shirt. Let's get you out of those clothes. He pressed a slow kiss to her lips as lithe fingers trailed underneath her thin blouse, feeling her shudder when he made direct contact to her skin. He pulled away leaving no more than a few inches between them as he silently pleaded for permission. An instruction. An invitation. 

The towel fell when she wrapped her arms around his neck. Hurry. She whispered onto his lips as she brought him back to life. He kneeled down to make work of the straps of her shoes, carefully peeling off her wet socks as she hissed at the cold air. She pulled him back up for another kiss, teasing, feeling, loving every inch of him that she could. She followed him as he backed into their living room, blouse nearly off and faces were fully flushed. Would you just– just take that stupid shirt off already. She pawed at his torso in frustration. Hiromi, if you don't, I'll–. Stuttered moans fell from her lips as he nipped harshly at her collar, lowering himself to his knees. With a sharp tug, his shirt was off and he looked up at her, lapping at the skin right above her pants. A quick nip here and a smooth tug there, he unbuttoned and freed her out of her confines. 

He was bewitched by the fabric that clung onto the plush planes of his beloved. She couldn't help but run a hand through his hair, over his nape, then ran gentle strokes under his eyes. Another wet plop was heard, she had already discarded the unwanted bra. He pressed a kiss over her mound, eyes still burning up in wonder as she gripped onto his bare shoulders for support. Without another word, she tapped the back of his head and was unceremoniously undressed from the waist down. He nudged her legs apart, lapping where she was most soft and vulnerable to him. Warm and pliable, wet and dulcet. A few playful nips had her buckling against him before he slowly dragged her down, laying her on plush towels and throws she seemed to miss before. What's all this? I never took you for a romantic. She reached for him with one hand and he interlocked their fingers together. What? This? His free hand brushed a tear from the corner of her eye before bringing it down to stroke her leg. He pressed a kiss against her bent knee, scooting himself down until he was comfortable. Just some compensation. He held her thigh over his shoulder as he lapped and lapped. Their hands were still intertwined as she tilted her head back with broken moans. T-there. She panted. Her hips bucked to meet him. 

Here?  He'd tease, pressing her in place, hands gripping tighter until he zeroed in, lips finding her clit. Her mouth dropped as he pushed her over the edge, alternating between slow lapping and harsh sucking. Tears pushed at her waterline as she neared closer and closer until she went over the edge. The hand that once held her thigh over his shoulders dove between her folds, thrusting in to draw out her high. When she finally met his gaze again, he pulled up to meet her for a scorching kiss. There were no more hesitations between them. She parted her thighs and invited him in to fully sink into her. He would've chuckled at her if he wasn't so impatient to be inside, but instead, Higuruma squeezed her hand once more. She dragged her nails down his back with her free hand. Sighs of relief were shared as they bumped foreheads. He whispered under his breath. You're all I ever wanted. 

His hips stuttered for a moment before pulling out just to sink a little further into his lover’s warmth. The rain still hadn't eased, but neither had their fervor for one another. Hiro– Hiro– ugh, oh, Romi. She sighed against him, squeezing his hand, and shakily lifting her free one to cup his face. He pressed a kiss against her palm as his hips snapped a little harder, eyes shutting tight as they both wanted to get closer. She pulled him in further with her legs as the low fire in her belly rekindled again. The downpour outside did little to hide the clapping of skin on skin and Higuruma knew that. He moaned into her neck as he listened closely to the sounds of himself continuously splitting her into two. One could almost mistaken it for the rain.

Higuruma looked down at his lover and found that her eyes had a distant longing to them. An ache that had to be soothed. A hunger that had to be fulfilled. In the throes of their passion, she was shoved up roughly against the blankets, her hair splaying on top of the bunched up fabrics, her lashes wet from pleasure, her cheeks flushed, and her hips bruising by the sheer force of him. She was like his velvet-kissed Venus, praised by the depths of his love. He wanted to ravage her more and more, and she loved every second of it. 

He adjusted her legs against his hips for the umpteenth time that night before plaiting their other hand together, finally deciding how he wanted to take her. Higuruma leaned in, capturing her lips again as he held her hands down right beside her head. His speed picked up as he continued his ruthless attack on her now swollen lips. Confessions were pressed from one mouth to another. Hushed sighs and broken moans threatened to leave the confines of their little apartment. He was ever the passionate lover, a considerate and most generous lover. You're so beautiful. He stared down at her with starlit eyes and a flushed face, so sweet and sincere. 

Her heart was pounding, it was too much. The weight of his words shook her to her core. She babbled underneath him. I love you. I love you. I love you. Higuruma felt his climax approach as his lover squeezed around him. She was at her edge too and just needed a little more until the thread snapped. You're so good to me. You always take me so well. His eyes bore into her teary ones, captivated by his confessions, tipping over the edge as he stroked all the right spots. 

She looked at him once more before pulling him with her into bliss and utter adoration. He shuddered and sighed in relief, filling her up before waiting a moment to take her in. She was never more lovely than when she glowed against him like this. With a kiss to her temple, he pulled out slowly and drew her into his arms. His legs wobbled as he carried the both of them back to bed. Another I love you was pressed against her lips after he laid her down. He tucked her against him, drawing the blanket over them as the world continued its pour. But neither of them minded that when they were safe and hidden from the rain.

credits to @ cafekitsune for the fic divider ❤️

and thank you for the 300+ notes on my first fic, it means a lot to me

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #higuruma x reader #higuruma smut #silk spun tales #inspired by threadbaresweaters and pamakali #and the rain of course #happy valentine's day <3

[yamujiburo]

I'd like to join the kind words dogpile that seems to be happening and thus! I've been following your art stuff for a long time and have always gotten HUGE enjoyment out of it. I've loved every moment of your hanamusa comics from the get-go!

I love that weight gain is shown as a sign not just of health but of HEALING with Jessie's character, something not just to be accepted but actively celebrated. Because she is safer, stabler, better cared for. I love equally that James and Meowth are a part of that, both as Jessie's friends, for her recovery, and for their own separate paths forward. It's all just a wonderful cartoon villain redemption story, right up my alley.

Additionally, within the past year, year and a half range, I've slowly started drawing again. For most of my life I drew for at least a while every single day. I was never not dreaming up stories and there's still nothing I love more than sharing the little worlds inside my head, but things were pretty rough and unstable for my family for a couple of years and its impact on my mental and physical health led to my ceasing to draw almost entirely for those couple of years.

Having the energy and luxury to pursue art again has been a healing step and I'm slowly getting back into a groove of trying to sketch a bit daily. I'm having to relearn a lot of things that used to feel almost as natural as breathing, so it's often as draining and frustrating as it is cathartic and fun.

It's been so long since I did much of anything with my own ideas and stories that I often feel tapped out on creative fuel, but following the hanamusa arc and seeing how much joy other people take in it- and most importantly that you take in it and in sharing it- have helped revive a lot of love and inspiration for my own takes on the Ketchum family and my still intense and deep love of the anime series. My portrayals and such are wildly different from the adventure of hanamusa, but I love them both and have been grateful for the courage and persistence the presence of your art and writing have lent me. So you have my sincere thanks for simply Being, and for sharing of yourself and your ideas!

I know you doubtlessly get a LOT of messages every single day, so I hope you'll not feel a need to reply to this one because there is no need at all. If and when you have a chance to read this, I do hope it brightens your day a bit, like jessie. ash and delia always brighten mine. Be well, and I hope this coming year will be full of positive experiences for you!

aw thank you, i really appreciate it! (and thank you to everyone else who's been sending nice asks)

it makes me happy to hear you've been able to start drawing again! drawing and sharing my art makes me feel so at peace and happy and i only hope it makes anyone else who does art feel the same

best of luck with all your art making endeavors!

#ask yam

[thebibliosphere]

So, I've been getting a few "hey, so now you're fixed, you're going to write books faster now, right?" type messages, and hmmm. That's a loaded word right there. "Fixed."

Yeah, not too keen on that word.

What I assume these people mean to do is congratulate me on finding out a major cause of distress and illness in my life and offer well wishes for my continued relief and recovery. I assume that's what was really meant. But just to entertain the first part of that ask, no, I am not "fixed."

There is no "fixing" the kind of chronic illness or disabilities I have. My ailments are genetic and lifelong, and if you're new here, newly diagnosed at the start of the pandemic, so my treatment thus far has been limited. Most of it is things I have pieced together myself.

That I've been able to do anything over the last year when I suffered 215+ migraine days on top of the connective tissue disorder I have, and the other condition that causes spontaneous anaphylaxis--not to mention the unmedicated ADHD I cannot treat with meds (yet)--is nothing short of miraculous.

So, now that my migraines are improving thanks to finding out I have binocular vision disorder on top of all the other stuff, will I be writing books faster?

I can only hope so.

But I also cannot say, "yes, absolutely, one book a year from here on out," because I just do not have the physical and mental capacity to guarantee that. Nor am I going to inflict that kind of mental and physical torture on myself (again) because it's the exact kind of thing that causes my health to crash and burn. And here's the thing:

Every time I burn myself out. Every time I push myself too far to keep up, it takes longer and longer to recover. The harder I push myself, the fewer books I will produce. That's the truth of it.

So I get it, it's frustrating. You want more of the fun thing (and thank you so much for loving what I do!), but you'll have to bear with me a little bit longer.

I am finding my stride as a multiply disabled creator, and I've spent the last two years untangling the guilt and imposter syndrome I experience over being "popular" but not being well enough to produce work at the same pace as everyone else around me.

I have worked out a system that I hope will be sustainable instead of leading to the continuous cycle of burnout I was trapped in for 10+ years as an editor. I have safety nets and supports in place that I didn't have before, and hopefully, those will help too. Time will tell.

Am I excited to get back to work? Absolutely. I'm ecstatic at the prospect of having fewer migraine days and more coherent brain days. But I'm also going to take my time to enjoy the process as well. I'd like to enjoy the things I write too. And I hope you can appreciate that.

So thank you for understanding, and for your patience. If you decide you can't wait, I'll understand. But please don't send authors, even able-bodied, neurotypical ones, messages like that. It's unkind. And I don't think any of you mean to be unkind.

#personal #author stuff #I really hope this doesn't come off as nasty #but the word 'fixed' is making the depression gremlins rabid #and I needed to say something

[rhysiana]

Because I saw a post about how modern AU WWX would probably actually be as tall as LWJ, if not taller, since so many modern AUs don't feature him suffering as much childhood privation as canon, which reminded me of another thought I have had, about how an early life period of interrupted growth can in fact just delay a person's growth spurts rather than eliminating them. Thus: WWX who gets confusingly taller after graduating from college.

3 People Wei Ying Talked to About Suddenly Getting Taller and 1 Person Who Definitely Noticed On His Own

[Now also on AO3]

Wen Ning

Wei Ying looked down at his feet, perplexed. "Wen Ning?" he yelled down the hall. "Did something weird happen to the washing machine that you didn't tell me about?"

Wen Ning popped his head around the door to Wei Ying's room. "No? I don't think so."

"Then why are all my pants suddenly too short?" A new thought occurred to him and he looked up, now delighted. "Wen Ning! Are you actually pulling a prank on me? I know I don't have all that many clothes, but still, this must have taken so much work! I respect the dedication." He held out a fist.

Wen Ning just blinked at him. "I think... maybe you got taller, actually?"

Wei Ying scoffed. "I'm way too old for a growth spurt. Seriously, did Nie Huaisang put you up to this?"

Wen Ning gave up arguing and simply produced a tape measure instead.

~*~

Wen Qing

Wei Ying burst into Wen Qing's lab, which he might have felt worse about if she hadn't been babysitting an experiment while no one else was around. He still received an impressive glare, but he didn't have time to worry about that right now.

"Wen Qing, I need you to test me for every weird kind of chemical exposure you can think of!"

She blinked at him, looking remarkably like her brother for a moment. "Wei Ying, you're in computer science. Exactly when do you come in contact with chemicals?"

"Uh. A leak on the science campus somewhere?"

"What is actually wrong with you? Tell me in the next," she glanced at the clock, "three minutes or leave."

"I apparently grew another inch in the last month without noticing. That can't be natural. I'm 23."

She stared at him for a moment, frowned, and then her expression cleared. "You said once that you had a bad time when you were younger. Stopped growing for a while."

"Why do you even remember that?" Wei Ying asked with an uncomfortable laugh, looking away. He must have been drunk; he didn't usually bring that time of his life up in any detail. It just made people sad.

Wen Qing turned away briskly, ignoring his minor display of emotion, and checked some readouts he was pretty sure hadn't actually changed in any way yet. "Well, that's why. Your growth spurts just got delayed, not erased. It's normal. I'll send you some references tomorrow."

He swept her up in a relieved hug. "Thank you, Qing-jie. Even if this does mean I'm not developing some weird superpower mutation."

She poked him cruelly in the ribs to get him to let go. "Go away, you're distracting me."

~*~

Jiang Cheng

"You what?!" Jiang Cheng demanded at full volume. It'd been a while since they'd managed to get together in person--Wei Ying had nearly forgotten how red with frustration Jiang Cheng could get.

Wei Ying grinned and bounced a little on his toes to really rub it in. "Grew another inch."

"No! This isn't allowed! The universe can't do this to me!"

"What's the problem, little brother?" Wei Ying edged closer so he could prop his elbow on Jiang Cheng's shoulder and really lean on him. "I think I should get jiejie to measure me again and mark it on the door frame. Really make it official."

"Don't you dare!"

"Why don't I ask her now, so she'll be all ready when we see her next weekend?" Wei Ying fished out his phone and then held it up over his head, laughing, as Jiang Cheng lunged for it.

Jiang Cheng's eyes narrowed. "An inch isn't really that much," he growled, and hooked Wei Ying's leg in a takedown they'd both learned when they were 11.

Wei Ying tossed his phone out of wrestling range and turned his full attention to finding a hold that would make Jiang Cheng tap out.

~*~

Lan Zhan

"Wei Ying."

Most people claimed Lan Zhan's voice (and face) didn't have any expression, but Wei Ying could clearly hear the shock underlying his name.

"Lan Zhan!" he returned brightly. "You're back! Did you have a good trip? You've been gone for months and months!"

Wei Ying was used to the intensity of Lan Zhan's regard under normal circumstances--one of the many things he loved about being friends with him--but he didn't think he was imagining that it was particularly intense today.

"It was as I texted you," Lan Zhan said shortly, and then, surprisingly, continued before Wei Ying could get a teasing reply in. "Wei Ying... did you get taller?"

"Oh, that!" Wei Ying felt himself start to blush, for some reason. "Yeah, I did. It was so weird at first, but Qing-jie assures me it's normal, and I've almost gotten used to it now. It was just an inch but I had to go buy all new... pants..." He trailed off as Lan Zhan pushed into his personal space much closer than he ever had without Wei Ying initiating it first, as far as Wei Ying could recall. "Hi?"

They were nearly chest to chest now, and he could see it when Lan Zhan actually had to tilt his chin up just a bit to meet Wei Ying's eyes.

"Hello," Lan Zhan said, grave and low and very, very focused.

Wei Ying wasn't entirely sure what was happening right now, but he was pretty sure he was into it.

#I dashed this off super fast #I invite other people to steal this concept #based on real life #wei wuxian #wen ning #wen qing #jiang cheng #lan wangji #a tiny hint of wangxian #modern AU #the untamed #rhys's stuff

[aettuddae]

hole in one. — 141. it'll be heaven.

⌕ synopsis: at one of the most prestigious universities in the country, where everyone is battling to be the center of attention, yu jimin is just a regular. people want her because of her beauty, but all she cares about is sharing her freaky stuff with her friends and passing her subjects. although there's one thing that might push her out of her comfort zone, revenge. when nakamura kazuha, one of the richest and most well-known students of NCU, starts to spread gossip about her for thousands of followers to see, jimin decides to get back by taking away the thing kazuha cares about the most: her perfect girlfriend, the young golf star, kwon haru.

masterlist | prev

[written chapter]

"guys, i ran out of battery on my phone." reported seungkwan from his seat.

"i told you to charge it before you left." reproached yunjin.

"i got distracted by leveling up in candy crush and forgot." defended the boy.

"how many students are there?" questioned minhyuk with an irritated tone. "i'm hungry."

"me too, i didn't have breakfast." shared juyeon.

"why didn't you have breakfast?" asked ningning.

"i didn't have time." explained the older keeping her eyes on the stage where students continued to pass by to receive their graduation diplomas. "minhyuk was supposed to go wake me up, but the bastard showed up fifteen minutes before we had to leave." she reminisced in frustration.

"at least i remembered to come get you." said the jock.

"no, it's okay, i already know you, i should have predicted it." dismissed.

"excuse me? we're all entitled to one last chance." he lashed out with mock offense.

"you never got anywhere early in your whole life, you're not starting now." replied eunseo.

"i can change..."

"... uchinaga aeri." the voice of an older teacher echoed through the auditorium where the graduation ceremony was taking place, grabbing the attention of the entire group of friends and thus interrupting their conversation.

"up, up!" commanded juyeon.

everyone stood up and began to applaud their friend as she was taking her diploma. haru, minhyuk and juyeon with their phones held high recording the whole process as if they were three proud parents, the last two even shouting some chants of pride and love to the japanese girl, who wanted to die of embarrassment and made countenances at them telling them to shut their mouths. they were genuinely happy for their best friend.

aeri received her certificate, had her picture taken with it and then proceeded to walk off the stage towards her spot again and let the event continue with the next students.

haru was in a good mood that day, of course she was. her best friend was graduating, and in the same class was the girl she loved, who she would finally have in the flesh next to her after agreeing that they were going to be fine. it was a good day.

the golfer followed giselle with her eyes until she was in her chair, and then she tried to locate jimin among her classmates, but it was such a large group that even if she tried to look for them alphabetically, she wasn't being able to find her.

as her eyes wandered around the place in search of her favorite human, she came across someone she hadn't expected to see at all,

nakamura kazuha.

the girl was standing next to an empty seat, presumably hers, at the edge of the small aisle that formed between the student area and the guest's, trying to get a better view of the proceedings.

it had been almost as long since she had last seen kazuha as it had been since she had seen karina before the wedding, so the girl was a particular sighting, to say the least.

kazuha was still living in seoul and playing golf at the rottary club, as usual. the last kwon had heard, she had joined a professional team.

kazuha possibly felt the watchful eye on her, as she turned to look for the reason why she felt observed, finding her ex with a dumbfounded and slightly goofy expression. as they made eye contact, they both gave each other a shy smile and the younger girl raised her hand, waving it and greeting haru.

the sudden feeling of familiarity came over her, and the eldest began to walk past her friends until she could step out of the small place where their seats were and approach the girl.

"hey." greeted her, somewhat hesitantly.

"hey." returned the chestnut with a big smile on her face.

"hey." repeated letting out a nervous giggle, then looking to the side and giving a nod to sakura and eunchae, the japanese girl's mates, who were accompanying her.

"i didn't imagine you'd come over." she shrugged.

"how can i not approach when i haven't seen you in years?" she settled in next to her, both of them with their eyes towards the scenario.

"well, it's not like we were splendidly two years ago." she remarked. "how have you been?" she wondered looking sideways at her.

"bad," kwon went silent, contemplating her answer, eliciting a frown of concern from the girl. "but i'm fine now." she assured her.

"are you sure?" she put her hand on her back to show reassurance. "what happened?"

"don't worry, i'm serious." she nodded her head, reinforcing her words. "i don't know if you know i moved..."

"of course i know, haru." she cut in, her tone carrying a hint of sadness.

"well, it was the moving, the new town," it was obvious she wasn't going to mention the main reason for her pain to her former girlfriend. "i couldn't play golf for a long time." she added, downplaying her words. "you know, it was hard." she concluded. "but i'm fine now, really, how have you been?" she rested her gaze on her, expectant for an answer.

"i've been fine." she assured calmly, removing her touch from haru's body. "i'm on a team, my teammates are good, they are talented. we will prepare to participate in the championship next year." she said defiantly.

"oh, then we'll be rivals." she cocked her head confidently and stretched out her hand for kazuha to shake. "may the best one win."

"you say that because you're the best." she narrowed her eyes, judging her. "and aside from golf..." she folded her arms, thinking. "i don't know, not much has happened." she sighed not knowing what to tell. "i graduated last week." she commented. "you didn't come." chastised kazuha, as an innocent comment.

"sorry." haru lowered her head, an ashamed smile on her lips. "you went to mine even when we had been broken up for months, i should have go since i was in town."

"don't worry, haru, just kidding." she gave her a gentle nudge with her elbow. "you didn't have to come." she understood. "it's enough that you came over to talk to me now." she brought her hand to the back of her neck and squeezed from both sides playfully to comfort her, causing them both to laugh. "you came to see aeri?" she changed topics, returning to the situation they were in.

"yes, obviously, we all came." she took a glance at where her friend was sitting. "and well, jimin too." she admitted, feeling out the younger girl's reaction.

"oh." her mouth hung slightly open and her eyebrows raised as she processed what she had just been told. "so, you two...?" she raised her index finger to point at her, then wagged it around as if trying to finish her sentence with her gestures.

"it's complicated." she sentenced. "we met again recently." she didn't want to give away too much information.

"sure." she took a moment. "i hope you two do well." she encouraged, seemingly sincere.

"thank you, zuha."

"tell her that..." she took a big breath of air, gathering courage to let her pride go. "that i'm so sorry."

both pairs of eyes met for the first time in the entire talk, and haru saw in her a glimmer of the kazuha she once loved. a kazuha who could become tender and sensitive, a kazuha only she seemed to have known.

"i know it's not going to change anything." her hands danced in the air illustrating her attempt to explain herself. "or maybe after all this time it doesn't matter anymore." she closed her eyes for a second, recomposing herself. "but if you can, and want, tell her i'm really sorry." she lifted her eyelids, letting her guard down.

"i will."

haru felt something inside her stir, the memories. seeing kazuha in that place felt surreal to her, but apart from that talking to her brought back a feeling that mixed both the familiar and the unfamiliar. she could never hate her, after all, haru had always been one of the few people who couldn't do that at all. seeing her there, being a bit of who she once was, blinded something in her brain, and her first instinct was to lean in and hug her.

"it's good to see you." she whispered, her chin resting lightly on her shoulder. "and it's good to hear you're sorry." she moved her hand along her back.

"i want to apologize to you too, haru." at that moment, she finally dared to raise her arms and reciprocate the woman's gesture. "sorry for ruining that nice thing we had." her voice sounded a little shaky.

"i don't need you to apologize to me." she shook her head even if the girl wouldn't see it. "i chose long ago to keep only the good parts of your time in my life."

the older girl stood up straight, breaking the hold they had on each other. she arranged her locks behind her ears and connected their gazes, which were flooded with nostalgia and affection. between the two of them, there was no more romance, but there would always remain the deep adoration you have for someone who was once your confidante and security.

"... yu jimin." this time it was a female professor's voice that announced the name, interrupting the moment. again kwon had not heard the introduction.

"oh shit." exclaimed kazuha in surprise. "your girlfriend." she centered her focus on the student body area. "go!" she put her hands on her arm and began to push her back into her seat.

"kazuha, it was good to see you-"

"yeah, yeah, we'll meet again when we compete, now go, jimin is graduating." she didn't let her finish, rushing her.

"wow, you've changed."

"go!" she insisted, ending in both of them letting out a few laughs at the interaction and haru returning to her seat.

the athlete took out her cellphone as she had done with aeri, and pointed it at jimin, who was walking up to the stage. with great joy on her face she took a few photos of her as she received her diploma, then locked the device and put it away so she could applaud her and watch her personally.

when karina stood for her picture with the certificate that she had finished her studies, by coincidence, or a bit because she was looking for it, she found haru in the audience, and couldn't help but stop and admire her as she was happy for her. so in the final image she was not even looking at the camera, but to the side, full of love.

the ceremony was over and the group of friends had ventured out in search of the new graduates, parting in each other's close circle.

minhyuk, eunseo and haru were with giselle and her parents, showering the girl with hugs, affection, congratulations, and taking pictures of her. each one posed with her individually for the camera, and then they did it all together, then with the parents. they would have enough documentation of that moment to fill an album so they would have to forget the picture they had taken of her earlier where she was begging her friends to keep quiet.

minhyuk even cried, claiming he couldn't believe that the youngest of the group had already finished her college years. they had met when they were just teenagers, and now they all had degrees and their futures planned.

jimin was first greeted by her family, who warmly congratulated her on her achievement, and then her friends arrived, who, of course, started a magazine-worthy photo session in the middle of the auditorium. seungkwan even lifted up ningning, who was holding a phone with the flashlight on, in order to properly illuminate the picture that winter was taking of yunjin and jimin.

after, they became involved in a hyped conversation, but the girl could not stop diverting her interest to the group surrounding the uchinagas.

she had already been welcomed and showered with compliments for what she had accomplished, she just wanted to run to haru and have her close finally. but over there, they kept crying and hugging each other sentimentally.

it was while her loved ones were talking about the different job offers karina had on the table for her future, that she turned to see what was going on in the other gathering of people and noticed a bored haru, as they were not doing anything in particular, she was distracted scanning what was going on in her surroundings.

she took the opportunity as her own and excitedly ran towards the oldest, who noticed her approaching her euphorically and opened her arms waiting. jimin's body crashed into haru's, with enough intensity that the latter slightly lost her balance and had to take a few steps backward, dragging yu.

"how is my favorite graduate?"

she wrapped her arms around jimin, with one holding her body tightly and one hand wandering through her hair subtly. the younger clinging to her waist as if there was a hurricane around and the girl was the only thing she could hold on to.

"actually, that offended me." giselle's voice was heard from behind.

"you're my favorite too." she detached her hand from the blackhaired's back to point her finger at her friend.

"you can't have two favorites." aeri held her waist and brought all her weight to one leg as she judged with her gaze.

"later you discuss it." karina made a rambunctious gesture indicating for them to be quiet. "hello." she whispered, as she pressed her forehead together with the haru's.

"hello." she replied in the same volume, just for her to hear, showing all her teeth from the joy she felt. "i'm so proud of you, princess."

"thank you, baby." they stared at each other stupidly for a few moments. "i missed you." she added, finally being able to say it to her face.

"i missed you too." she lifted herself up a little, getting to the height to leave a delicate kiss on her nose. "you look good." she exclaimed in amusement taking a few steps back so she could observe her full body, their hands enlaced.

"don't i?" she took one foot off the ground giving a short hop and cocked her head to one side with a cheeky expression. "i'm the most adorable economist." she ran her hair making it fly back, continuing the joke.

haru's smile spread even wider and her eyes, or what could be seen from between those cavities that formed moons as they narrowed, sparkled as they followed karina. the girl could no longer contain the wave of beautiful emotions beating against her chest, and she walked briskly to catch the younger girl again and lift her into the air, spinning around, accompanied by her giggles.

the golfer slowly stopped, but before she set her down, jimin took the chance to use the hold on her neck and the closeness to her ear to murmur to her, in a tone that mixed melancholy and absolute happiness: "being like this with you seems like a dream."

"don't worry." she released the girl once her feet were on the ground. "it's not." she caressed her cheek tenderly. "i'm really here, and i'm happy to be." she reassured, comforting the girl.

jimin stopped to admire her. even with her words, she found it hard to understand that she was real. she felt like it was an angel in front of her. she loved her, in such an overwhelming way that jimin thought it escaped from her heart and took over her whole body, leaving no room for her blood, organs or veins. she loved her with all that she was.

"come!" the younger girl exclaimed abruptly after remembering something, startling the sportswoman with her sudden change of attitude. she took her hand and then started walking quickly.

they approached where jimin's acquaintances were standing, stopping short in front of them. haru felt a little shy since she had never met the girl's parents. off to the side, her friends watched the scene proudly, after all they had accompanied her through in those two years.

"mom, dad, this is my girlfriend." she held out her hand to the girl, who bowed as a greeting of respect to the elders, but looked a little puzzled. seeing her reaction, yu realized the label she had used and felt nervous. "my thing." that wasn't good either. "my haru." she corrected herself. "this is haru."

"so you are haru..." the man said, taking in the person in front of him.

"the golfer!" the lady recalled.

"that's what people know me for." agreed kwon, extending her hand to the couple.

"jimin used to make us watch your matches when she was at home." commented the father, causing the named one to cover her embarrassed face. "you know, i really like golf too..."

to no one's surprise, everyone got along well. haru was incredibly likeable after all, and it filled jimin's soul to see the most important people in her life excitedly engaged in conversation.

a few minutes later, giselle approached them to remind that they were all going to eat at a restaurant later to celebrate. there was a reception for all the graduates, but they preferred to go with their best friends.

they had been there for at least two hours, but they had only started eating. although everyone had been drinking and chatting since they arrived.

it was amazing how the two groups had found each other and managed to get along, despite the things that had happened between them.

at one end of the table were seungkwan and minhyuk, the latter had his arm around the back of the other's chair, wrapping it around him. they were distracted in a debate about whether fries tasted better with ketchup or cheese, and it was endearing to see how the chef never stopped laughing at anything that came out of his boyfriend's mouth, while the golfer gets fascinated listening to the things he told. they had a nice relationship, they understood each other in humor, and had similar tastes, they were boyfriends and friends at the same time.

the rest of the girls were sitting one on each side, across the table. it wasn't an abysmal distance, but they were still carrying on an almost shouting conversation, laughing uproariously, with eunseo leading the chatter they were engaged in, which was largely gossip. to one side of the oldest redhead, minjeong was quiet and smiling, drinking her beer and stealing loving glances at her now wife.

and in one corner, haru and karina were in their chairs next to each other. the older one's hand rested comfortably on the graduate's leg, who was brushing her fingers along the other's body in search of contact. both were attentively listening to what the others were saying and would let out a giggle when someone made a funny comment. sometimes starting short exchanges of words only between them, but mostly just enjoying the moment.

juyeon was trying to explain something to yunjin, who was looking at the others with bewilderment as she didn't understand what she was hearing. the girl's expression was funny to her friends, even to jimin, who burst out laughing when she saw her and leaned on haru for support. once it passed, she stayed in that position, with her head on the golfer's shoulder, and after a moment, she wrapped the arm that the girl had holding her with her own, clinging completely to her.

"i love you." said the blackhaired, leaving a kiss on haru's cheek.

"i love you." she reciprocated, turning her head so she could look at her face.

"sorry for introducing you as my girlfriend to my parents today." she casually mentioned.

"no worries, i guess i will be at some point anyway." she shrugged with plenty of attitude.

"oh? so that's how you think..." she gave her a playful pinch. "if so, then why aren't you right now?" she bit her lip expectantly, embarrassed that her heart was pounding at the inquisitions of what she had said.

"you haven't asked me yet." haru explained without giving it much thought and then leaned over to pick up her glass and take a swig of her drink.

"do i have to ask you? i was waiting for you to ask me." she pointed a finger at herself.

"no, clearly you have to ask me." she sipped again, looking defiantly at her over the glass.

"would you be my girlfriend?" karina asked hurriedly, so fast the words were barely understood. her eyes painted with anticipation.

"you're asking me here? with minhyuk present?" she exclaimed ironically.

"what did i do now?" questioned the boy across the table.

"you don't care." the girl dismissed him without even turning to look at him, getting him to throw his hands up in the air in disbelief.

"you must have done something." eunseo accused him, triggering one of their silly arguments.

"come with me." jimin got up from her seat and started walking. haru obeyed and went after her.

"where are you going?" the sportsman vociferated.

"you don't care." repeated her best friend.

"kwon haru, i'm not liking your antics!" he complained offended.

the two girls continued on their way, jimin sure of where she was leading and haru, a little lost, behind her. they arrived at an almost completely unoccupied side of the restaurant, from the main hall of the place you couldn't see clearly and there were few tables, at the end of it, a double glass door that the now economist opened to pass through, the one who was following her also passing by it.

behind it, there was a rather small backyard, which was blocked by trees and bushes. beyond the decorative forestation, there was a concrete wall that could not even be seen among so many leaves and trunks. lights hung from the tops and branches, and there was even a small bench on one side. haru presumed that this place was specially designed for smokers, but at that moment it was empty.

"how did you find this place?" kwon inquired, her eyes on the small lamps above her.

"when i went to the bathroom i got the wrong direction and ended up here." she laughed shyly.

"it's pretty." she lowered her eyes, turning back to jimin.

"like you." she returned witty.

"and you." she added roguishly. "and you brought me here to...?" she raised an eyebrow mischievously.

"kwon haru," she put her hands behind her back, feet together and puffed out her chest, pretending to look like a prince about to make an announcement. "would you do me the honor..."

she paused to search her pockets for something, observe her fingers, and then surveyed her surroundings. she dropped her gaze to the ground, turning only with her upper body so that she could analyze behind her back. she leaned over and held a cigarette butt between her fingers, then extended it toward haru.

"is it antiromantic if i ask you to be my girlfriend with a cigarette butt?" she pouted. "i don't have a ring to give you."

"wait." haru was now the one digging through every crevice of her clothes looking for something that would work. she picked up her wallet and checked it. "is it any use proposing to me with a bill?"

"that's even less romantic than the cigarette." she dropped her arms on either side of her body listlessly.

"a picture of my mom?"

"haru."

"my id?" she continued without stopping checking.

"put that down, put that down." she approached her and pushed down the girl's hands holding her billfold.

"i didn't find anything either, sorry." she put the object away and made a regretful grimace.

"would you like to be my girlfriend?" she said again, unexpectedly.

"don't you need a ring, then?" the woman caught her face between her palms, creating an eye contact that exuded sweetness.

"i'll buy you one for our first anniversary." she promised, her voice soft, only dedicated to her. "and on the next one, and the one after that, and when i ask you to marry me." she held haru's waist. "although i'm so sure you're the love of my life that i might ask you to marry me before any anniversary."

"one step at a time, princess, we're here now." stopped the older one, laughing adoringly at such ideas.

"be my girlfriend." she asked again. "i love you, i don't want to not have you by my side, and i swear i will never ever again do anything to take you away from me. my place is with you."

"of course i will be your girlfriend." haru accepted.

upon hearing the answer, karina bounced on her feet on the spot because of the exhilaration that exploded inside her. she fleetingly pulled the girl from the back of her neck so they could join in a kiss to seal the pact.

it was the first kiss they had shared in two years that carried no pain behind it. all it brought was new beginnings and love. it was safety, and light. the promise that from now on, they both had a place to return to and a refuge for when everything got rough.

jimin's lips caressed haru's with affability, taking the exchange calmly, wanting to express all the stunning chaos she unleashed within herself through that gesture. the opposite held her figure gently, holding her as close to herself as possible as if trying to keep her from leaving again.

they broke the union carefully, still remaining over each other, their noses touching, their lips no more than an inch apart, "haru, let's move to busan." she suggested suddenly.

"what?" she frowned in surprise after hearing what the younger girl had just said.

"or come back to seoul." she added without thinking about what she was saying. she didn't have to as it had been on her mind for days.

"what are you talking about?" she let the girl go and walked a bit away.

"or i can move to incheon." she continued.

"wow, stop right there." she pointed her finger at her signaling to calm down. "what?" she reiterated.

"is that," she gulped in a breath of air, her grimace turning desperate. "you don't live here." she burst the bubble. "and i know we've been avoiding the subject voluntarily, but in two days you go back home, and then we'll be apart again." she began biting her nails.

haru was silent. she knew that what karina was telling her was the inevitable reality, and that they would soon have to part ways one more time, but she had chosen not to worry about it and somehow managed to forget.

"haru, i love you." she affirmed again. "and i'm tired of losing you, so if you tell me that in incheon you're happy, i wouldn't hesitate for a second to move there so i could be with you." she was sure of what she was saying. "but tell me the truth, is incheon for you? do you live the life you want there?"

the golfer knew she didn't. she had two friends in that city, one of whom was juyeon. she played on a team with people she didn't care about. she didn't feel full on her drive in the mornings to go to her training, she didn't even go for a walk in the streets like she often used to do in seoul.

what was there in Incheon for her? what was there in incheon that was hers?

she left seoul because it generated sadness in her, but if she had to be honest, thinking about incheon also made her feel miserable.

"busan?" she blurted out hesitantly after a moment in silence.

"weren't we happy when we were in busan?"

yes. the answer was clearly yes. depending on how you wanted to look at it, it was the place where it all started. where they admitted they felt things for each other and gave those emotions a place to be explored. despite being surrounded by people, it had felt like only they had been there. together. their own universe.

"just you and me?" she hesitated.

"well, we can take juyeon if you want, but she won't live with us." she said jokingly. "oh, and a cat." she finished seriously.

"you, me and a cat?" a smile began to tug at the corner of her mouth.

"what do you say?" she inquired hopefully, unable to hide that she was already excited.

"busan." she shook her head up and down, saying yes. "you and me."

karina let out the highest pitched squeal she had ever projected in her life, she ran towards haru almost as if flying, not even noticing how she came to be held to her girlfriend like a koala bear, her legs clinging to her waist, haru holding her tightly, contentment present in every part of their beings.

"and a cat." she stated again.

"yes, my princess, us and a cat." she guaranteed.

"and we will never separate again." jimin pulled away a little so she could look into her eyes.

"never." haru backed up her words, then moved closer and joined in a kiss.

— the end.

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[a/n: thanks to everyone who read, 141 chapters wouldn't have happened without the support this story had. ♡]

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