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#they did this casting on purpose i swear
sandstormcz · 1 year
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NOBODY move, people better not be born tomorrow
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kingkonoha · 4 months
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𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄 𝐀𝐃𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑
➙ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you have an attitude problem, and your aggravating coworker, toji, plans to fix it.
➙ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: 18+ ONLY || MDNI - fem! reader, smut {hate sex, oral, derogatory nicknames, ruined orgasm, spanking, penetration, cream pie, unprotected, hair gripping, manhandling, etc.}, no curses au, you & toji are business partners.
➙ 𝐖𝐂: 2.3k
➙ 𝐀/𝐍: this is my favorite pic of toji! wish he’d throw me off of a building too but okay!
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“What’s the matter with you? You look like shit.”
Strutting through the glass doors of your modern office, designed with expensive white decor and smelling strongly of fresh coffee, Toji Fushiguro’s annoying voice made you sigh heavily.
“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes.
It was 10 A.M., and you were two hours late to work. Toji’s dark eyes scanned your stylish outfit, one that would have received dress code complaints if an ordinary employee had worn it, and your perfect makeup was a telltale sign that you spent a great deal of time getting ready this morning.
That, along with your stunning hairstyle, made it clear to everyone who cast a glance your way from their cubicles that you didn’t simply oversleep.
You didn’t get stuck in traffic.
You showed up late on purpose, and no one could do anything about it.
It was your company, after all.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to upset you,” Toji smirked as he clicked his black pen, resting his chin in the palm of his hand as he watched you hang up your coat and put your lunch in the mini-fridge. “You do look like shit, though. Thought you’d wanna know.”
Anyone with any sort of decent vision would have deemed Toji as a madman.
One quick look at your appearance would prove his rude comment to be an utter lie. However, he wasn’t talking about your overpriced outfit, but rather, the look of plain detestation on your face that appeared the very second you saw Toji sitting in your office.
“Why are you in my office, Toji?” You stood to the side of your desk, glaring down at the dark-haired man who made himself rather comfy in your chair. “No one’s allowed in here unless I give them permission, and that includes you.”
“Don’t treat me like one of your damn assistants. I’m only here because you canceled three of our meetings, and I’m not letting you do it again. I don’t wanna sit through them either, but business is business, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me that,” you grimaced, leaning against your desk. “You’re right. You’re my co-founder, so you’re not a regular employee, but this is my business. I’m the founder, CEO, and the person who can fire your ass if you keep pissing me off. Now get out of my chair.”
A deep laugh served as Toji’s response.
“That was cute,” Turning a bit in the rotating chair, Toji leaned back, letting those eyes of his scan over you once more. However, he didn’t simply glance at your outfit this time. Instead, he ran his eyes over every single curve that he so desperately wanted to run his hands across. “Did you practice saying all of that in the mirror or somethin’?”
“Toji, I swear, if you don’t get out of my office, I’ll-”
“You’ll what?” Toji smirked — flashed an expression as if to say, “I dare you to finish that sentence.”
“I’ll fire you.”
And, with that, you had threatened to take Toji’s job away twice in about a minute or so.
He pushed himself out of your chair, but it wasn’t to leave your office. That was made clear when he approached you, that smirk never leaving his handsome face.
“I’m getting really tired of this attitude of yours,” Toji dropped his voice to a whisper. He was close enough for you to feel his warm breath pat against your face. “Am I gonna have to do something about it?”
“And what exactly can you do about it-”
Your sentence was abruptly cut off by Toji smashing his lips against yours.
He was quick to deepen the kiss, to not even allow you to take a breath, as when you tried, his tongue darted into your mouth. He swirled his tongue around yours as he moaned softly — and it was a cocky moan, one that showed just how much pleasure he was getting out of this.
He pulled away all too soon. He didn’t want to, your mouth tasted absolutely delicious, but the two of you needed just a bit more privacy for everything he wanted to do with you.
Toji stepped away from you. He shut and locked your office door, and closed the blinds.
“What?” you smirked. “Don’t tell me you plan on trying to fuck the attitude out of me? Seriously?”
“That’s right,” Toji said, walking back over to you. “When I’m finished fucking you stupid, you’re gonna apologize for acting like an asshole. Got it?”
“Doubt it. I bet you’ll finish in about ten or fifteen seconds, and you won’t be able to make me cum at all.”
This time, Toji was the one to smirk. He truly loved a challenge.
Slowly, Toji removed your clothes; it was the only thing he planned on doing slowly.
Swirling his tongue around your nipple, pinching your other one with his fingers, he could easily tell that you were tense.
The sound of your uneven breathing amused him as he sucked on your tit, as it was obvious you didn’t want to relax and let yourself moan in pleasure, unable to give him the satisfaction.
It didn’t matter, though. While he planned on eliciting every single noise he could, licking and biting at your nipples was entirely for his pleasure.
He was the one who had to watch you prance around in all of those slutty tops, showcasing your cleavage more than your business products.
He dreamt of what it would be like to suck on those buttons of yours, and now, he was.
Once again, he didn’t want to pull away. But, alas, the two of you didn’t have all the time in the world. Anyone could interrupt your fun at any minute.
“I know we’re in a hurry, pretty girl, but I gotta taste you.”
Toji swiftly placed you right on top of your desk, and he lowered his head between your thighs.
“Go ahead,” you said cockily. “I doubt you’ll be able to find the cl-”
Toji found your clit instantly.
Not only did he find it, but he licked at it, rapidly flicking his tongue against it. He wrapped his arm around your thigh and held your pussy lips open with one hand, and with the other, he lifted your leg and placed it over his shoulder.
Your fingers were instantly tangled in his black hair. You couldn’t keep your composure.
That goddamn idiot started to suck on your clit, moaning as he did so, and damn it all, you couldn’t help but moan as well.
“Fuck you, Toji,” breathlessly, you whined.
“Oh? You wanna fuck me?” He teased, pulling away from your clit. “Don’t worry, baby. We’ll get to the fucking. Just give me a minute.”
Toji suddenly teased the entrance of your hole with his tongue, then returned to your clit, licking and sucking, sucking and licking.
The entire time, he moaned as he did so, and kept his eyes on your face. The fingers that weren't holding your pussy lips open dug into the plush of your thigh.
God — he was eating you out like a starving man, and as much as you wanted to kick him in the balls and laugh at him for not being able to please you, you didn’t dare, as you couldn’t even hide the fact that your orgasm was approaching.
“Oh my god,” you moaned. You were so close.
A wave of heat washed over you, and Toji had to press his hand against your stomach to get you to stop squirming. And that pressure only made you feel his tongue swirling around your pussy even more.
Your legs started to tremble around his head.
“Shit,” you cried out. It was as much of a warning as you could give.
But, you didn’t need to warn him at all, as he knew that you were about to cum all over his tongue.
However, much to your dismay — and his, as he wanted to lick up your cum — Toji pulled away all too soon.
Your approaching orgasm fizzled away until you were left with nothing but unsatisfying disappointment.
When your coworker stood up, he smirked down at your face of anger.
“Sorry, baby. As badly as I want you to cum in my mouth, you don’t deserve it.” Toji unbuckled his belt. “You’re gonna cum all over my dick, or you’re not cumming at all.”
“You’re an asshole,” you frowned.
“Speaking of ass . . .” Toji suddenly lifted you as if you weighed nothing, and he flipped you over, making you lay flat on your stomach across your desk.
Those large, rough hands of his gripped your bare ass, and for a moment, he massaged your cheeks, inhaling a sharp breath before he suddenly smacked you.
You jumped — he smirked at the sight of it, and the stinging sensation made you unintentionally whimper.
“Hm?” Toji raised an eyebrow, although you couldn’t see it. “You liked that? I should’ve known. A slut like you probably likes just about everything, huh?”
Toji spanked you again, and when your ass jiggled, Toji’s dick managed to become even harder — if such a thing was possible at this point.
“What are you spanking me for?” You questioned, whining once his hand made contact with one of your cheeks again.
“Do you really gotta ask?” Toji paused. “Someone needs to do something about your goddamn attitude. Are you ready to apologize?”
“Go to hell,” you smirked, attempting to hold on to your last shred of dignity. “The only one who’ll be apologizing is you, when you finally put it in and cum in ten seconds, while I won’t even get a chance to moan.”
Toji lined his dick up with your entrance, gripping your hip as he started to push in.
“Can’t believe you actually believe that, especially after you almost came right in my mouth earlier,” Toji grunted as he felt your tight walls clench around him, your hole attempting to adjust to his size.
You gasped when you felt him — he was big. Possibly too big.
“I can barely fit, baby. I’m gonna make it work. I’m gonna stuff you like you deserve, don’t you worry.”
Toji continued to work his way in, giving you a moment to adjust to his dick. “Doesn’t seem like anyone’s been fucking this pussy, huh? Is that why you act like such a little slut? Just needed some attention? Is that it, baby?”
Toji started to thrust in and out of you. With both hands, he held on to your hips, pulling you back on his dick until he created a steady rhythm.
As he fucked you, you gripped the edges of your desk, nearly knocking over your computer.
That was when Toji started to fuck you even harder.
“Shit,” you gritted your teeth, holding back your moans as beads of sweat decorated your forehead.
Thanks to that quick thrusting speed of his, you ended up pushing over almost everything. Important sheets of paper, pens, and your stapler all stumbled to the floor below as Toji slammed his dick in and out of you.
His hips smacked against your ass.
It felt so fucking good.
His cock was rubbing against all of the right spots inside of you. Your jaw fell open — you couldn’t hold back any of your noises anymore.
“Toji,” you moaned. Your paper clips went flying.
“Take it, baby.” Toji smacked your ass again. “So goddamn tired of hearing you run your mouth. Just shut the fuck up and take that dick.”
You wanted to argue so badly, but as he fucked and fucked you, all you could do was moan as your orgasm started to brew in the pit of your stomach.
“You gonna cum?” Toji grabbed your office chair, rolled it closer to him, and propped his foot up on it. The slight change in his position made you feel him even more deeply than before. “Give it to me, baby. Cum. Cum right now.”
“Shit!” You closed your eyes as he fucked you until you were dizzy.
Sweet pleasure overwhelmed you, and as you moaned his name, you came around his cock, and Toji moaned as you soaked his dick.
“That’s it — cum on my dick. Cum all over my cock.” Toji tossed his head back. “mmm, that’s right. Fuck, that feels good. Shit — I’m close. You’re gonna make me cum too . . . gonna cum right inside of you.”
Changing his rhythm, Toji’s hips stuttered, his thrusts becoming sloppy.
“Ah, fuck,” he moaned.
He leaned over the desk, his abs pressing against your back. He gripped your perfect hair tightly.
“Shit, I’m cumming,” He continuously slammed in and out of your pussy until his own orgasm washed over him, an intense amount of pleasure that he could feel even deep within his balls. “Take it.”
Toji stuffed your pussy with his seed.
“Mmm,” he moaned in your ear before giving it a little, wet lick, not yet releasing his grip on your hair. “Anything you wanna say?”
“I’m . . . sorry,” you mumbled weakly.
With a smirk, Toji pulled himself out of you.
But he didn’t let go of your hair.
Instead, he guided you off of the desk and onto your knees.
“I don’t forgive you just yet,” Toji lined his dick up with your mouth, his pink tip touching your lips. “Why don’t you clean my dick off for me, hm? We’ll see how I feel once I cum down that throat of yours.”
Slowly, you took his cock into your mouth, and he bucked his hips, fucking your throat as he said, “Yes, fuck yes, baby.”
And, soon after, Toji came down your throat and didn’t pull out until you swallowed every last drop of it.
He then leaned over and kissed you sloppily, swirling his tongue around yours, a string of spit falling from your connected lips once he pulled away.
“Don’t give me any more attitude, you hear me?”
You nodded, and Toji kissed you once again, moaning softly as he did so.
⎯⎯ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⎯⎯
♡ 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠!
🏷: @sad-darksoul
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more more more more aftg show bloopers (p 4?? I think?) whoop whoop de fuckin whoop
Neil's actor being a huge Duolingo dork and in the behind the scenes while the other actors are fooling around between takes you can often see him with his head bent and hear the little 'ping!'s coming from his phone
also during late night shoots, as it gets closer to midnight he always has a point where he's like SHIT my Duolingo streak. and then just blocks out everyone while his fingers fly over his screen
(fans make compilations of him proudly showing his Duolingo streak to the camera and the number grows as the seasons progress)
(he definitely is the kinda bitch who cares more about maintaining the streak than actually learning languages)
actually omg while we're on the topic of languages
Kevin's actor tenderly reciting his French lines to Matt's actor and Matt's actor is just smitten. and he goes "say something else, love" and Kevin's actor strokes his cheek while saying another one of his lines and Matt swoons
(then Kevin's actor turns to the camera and goes "I just told him that he's a disappointment and is going to get his ass handed to him by ravens if he doesn't do exactly as I say" and, from the ground, Matt's actor goes "hell yeah you did. talk dirty to me any day of the week you sexy, sexy man")
coach's actor is always swearing to the point where they implement a swear jar...really it's just something for the kids to jokingly rag on him about, but he goes with it, and every so often they'll empty the jar to buy the cast and crew pizza
they're filming outside at night and it's cold and in between takes Matt's Aaron's and Renee's actors are all huddled together for warmth and Matt's actor gets pulled aside to get his makeup touched up and the other two just shriek at the absence of his heat and catch up to him to tuck themselves against him again
Andrew needs to snap his fingers in one scene but everyone finds out that day that his actor doesn't know how to snap so he has a little impromptu snapping lesson and of course it turns into everyone else trying to one-up each other with their snapping abilities
Nicky's actor telling everyone what he's going to steal from set (will literally say"[about Allison's bathrobe] damn that shit soft as hell. Ive been needing a new bathrobe actually. I'm stealing this" or "I'm stealing this lighter/bandana/sunglasses/etc") but because his humor is so dry everyone thinks he's joking. until months later. when the prop department can't find shit
Renee's actress is doing something completely mundane but Neil's and Allison's actors start narrating what she's doing like they're in a nature documentary (always with Australian accents for some reason??)
"and our specimen now reclines herself vertically on a piece of furniture us humans know as 'a desk.' this clearly less-developed creature seems not to understand the purpose of such an object. but given that this is her first time outside her natural habitat (the jungle) her lack of familiarity with modern technology is to be expected"
Renee's actress: *flips them off*
"ah and here we witness one of the most common behaviors of this specimen. specialists have dubbed it 'flipping the bird,' and explain it as a nonverbal expression of affection" "oh fuck off"
photo from another cold night-shoot and it's of Matt's and Dan's actors, she's standing in front of him zipped up in his hoodie, just her head poking out and they're having a conversation with other castmates like it's the most normal thing in the world, looking the very image of the couple they play
so much glorious content from shooting the dorm sleepover scene. the most popular thing to come from it is a picture from after they wrapped where the cast and some members of the crew had moved even closer to each other amid all the blankets and are asleep on top of each other
Andrew's actor will sometimes actually eat the ice cream he's given instead of just pretending to eat it, and halfway through the scene he casually mentions that he's lactose intolerant and sends the crew into a worried frenzy
if you haven't clocked it yet, these bitches are competitive. and one day, one thing led to another, and soon a bunch of the actors are all being filmed having a plank-holding competition. Dan's actress is the first to drop and she gets booed at for it because "you're an ex-stripper where tf is that upper body strength?"
she flips them off and goes to sit on Kevin's actor, hoping to squash his plank, but instead he starts doing push ups with her on his back. she grins
(Rikos actor wins that competition btw. and Neil's actor goes on a rant about "we succumbed to the ENEMY? a RAVEN? your characters would be ashamed of you" (he also lost?))
Allison's actress pretending to do a get-ready-with-me using all the stuff on Allison's vanity
Wymack's actor falling asleep in The Dad Pose™ when they're shooting a scene on the bus. and everybody gathers in to take pictures
when Kevin and Neil get all up in each other's faces their actors will pretend like they're going to kiss each other
not really a blooper but just all the actors for the foxes and the ravens mingling together in between takes and it looks so wrong
give me all the actors constantly taking the piss out of their characters
for ex during a scene where the monsters are in the car on the way to Edens, Nicky's actor looks towards the backseat where everyone is in character and goes wow what a fun crowd we are you'd never believe we're about to hit the club
night shoots are a. struggle. for Dan's actress. and the others love to take videos of her just standing on her mark with the most spaced out expression on her face
Andrew's and Neil's actors are shooting one of their typical intense, deep scenes and after one take, as soon as "cut" is called, Andrew's actor grabs Neil's face and starts serenading him with the song that's been stuck in his head all day
Renee's actress getting scolded for sneaking snacks into her costume
when Nicky's actor messes up a line (and he's the least likely of everyone to do it) he starts spewing Spanish
Andrew's actor constantly teasing his brother and Katelyn's actress whenever they have scenes together
like the two of them will just be talking together in between takes and Andrews actor will be behind the camera recording them and saying shit like "look at that MINYARD RIZZ" (or he'll use their actual last name) "hey btw [Katelyn's actor] I taught him everything he knows"
that scene where the foxes are rushing out of the dorm to check on their destroyed cars and Matt's actor just faceplants (Neil's actor: "wow. the dedication")
in one scene or other Allison's actress is drinking an iced drink and during one take she just keeps calmly shaking the ice around in her cup until one by one everyone cracks
in one scene Allison's actress is wearing sunglasses. and in between takes she lies down and on camera you can see Kevin and Matt's actors whispering trying to figure out whether or not she's sleeping because they can't see her eyes
Aaron's actor always using Neil's actor as a pillow during car scenes because they're always next to each other and they're actually hella tight irl
the kids love to steal any props that coach's actor needs to use (pens clipboards etc) before they start rolling just so they can watch him try to subtly fidget trying to find his prop before they get to the point in the scene where he actually needs it
all the actors just taking pictures together in the most brutal settings on set.
like Neil's makeup has his face all busted and everyone wants a selfie with him. they all have a photoshoot with the trashed cars. they have another one in front of the "happy 19th birthday junior" set. Neil is tied up at The Nest while they change his hair and Jean's and Riko's actors take selfies with him. another photoshoot with Neil handcuffed in the police car. all these settings in terrible scenes and the actors are in front of them with grins and peace signs
they're terrible.
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charles-eclair16 · 8 months
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Definitely not a blind date: Charles Leclerc
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Pairing: charles Leclerc x fem!reader
Genre: fluff🌥️
About: When you go out with your best friend and it definitely doesn't turn into a blind date.
To say that your day was completely shit would be an understatement. From the moment you woke up it was clear that today just wasn't your day. You had tripped over the suitcase which was left open beside your bed, clothes all thrown around, hit your head because of it. The coffee cup had slipped from your hand spilling it all around your kitchen. The tires of your car were flat and you had reached your office 2 hours late which had caused the whole schedule to mess up. You had missed an important meeting, a casting and an interview for an upcoming project, which thankfully was rescheduled. The only thing which kept you sane was dinner planned with your friend, Kika. You had met through your agency when you were the manager taking care of the shoot she was a part of. You two had instantly hit it off and had been close friends since then. Although you both travelled to work you had managed to always keep in touch. The dinner plan was planned solely on the purpose of catching up and gossips.
"Hey kiks! Isn't it a bit early for our plan? You know what it's even better can we meet a little early? I had a shitty day and I just want to relax and forget about it!" You answered kika's phone opening the door to your flat.
"Hey babe! Oh I'm so sorry to hear that, are you okay?" You could hear her concern through the phone .
"yeah nothing I can't handle. Why did you call...I thought you were supposed to directly come over?" you asked as it was all planned before hand.
"yeah about that-uh Pierre came a day early and I wanted to ask if it was alright with you if he joined us? If not I can totally ditch him and we can have a girls night!" You laughed as you heard Pierre's offended voice in the background. Honestly you liked him, you had hung out with him many times and he made Kika happy, which was the most important thing...but today you wanted to go out with your best friend. But you hadn't met Pierre in so long that you missed his stupid face, having formed a friendship because of Kika.
" I'm not in the mood to third wheel you love birds kika!" You had laughed remembering the countless times they had dragged you out with them.
"And I'm not in the mood to babysit y/n!" You heard Pierre's voice through the phone. Yeah right!
"Remind me again who had locked himself in kika's balcony and had to call me for help?" You retorted laughing as you remembered Pierre's panicked call to you because kika was busy with her shooting.
"It was one fucking time! Anyways what am I hearing about you having a bad day? Karma finally catching up to you?" As if!
" Nothing your big head should be worried about!"
"Leave my head alone! Do you know what will fix your bad day into a good one?" You swear you could hear Pierre smirking and knew it wasn't anything good.
"What?"
"A good dic-"Pierre's voice was cut off by Kika's shout and then you heard Pierre's laughing in the background.
"Sorry about him y/n! Leave him and let's go out- just the two of us"
"What?! You know I'm right!" You blushed hearing him defend his weird logic.
"No! I don't want it Pierre!" You rejected his stupid idea as you went through your closet to find a dress.
"Anyways are you guys picking me up? We're going to the Elits right?" You mumbled holding a red dress against yourself as you checked it out. Looked good enough.
" I just had a wonderful idea! You said you didn't wanna third wheel right, y/n?"
"Uh-huh" you didn't know where he was going with this but you knew it wasn't good. Pierre and his ideas were always trouble!
"Why don't I invite my good friend to keep you company? Don't you think it's a good idea babe? You know he's been feeling down lately!" Pierre exclaimed turning the conversation towards kika.
What? His friend? Nope!
"Not happening Pierre! I'm not in the mood to go on a blind date" you stated.
"It doesn't have to be a blind date! We could just hang out together I promise, you'll like him!" You weren't sure about that, his friends could be anywhere from the most famous drivers to normal University students and you didn't know which was better.
"Who are you talking about?" It was Kika who asked the question on your mind.
"uh Charles" his name sounded familiar to you, having heard about him countless of times from Pierre, you knew he was also a formula 1 driver but for a different team then Pierre's.
"Oh! Oh my God! Are you thinking what I'm thinking?!" You could hear Kika's excitement through the phone as she and Pierre rambled excitedly.
" Umm guys?? What are we thinking about? A little out of the loop here?"
"Y/N! Oh we should totally go out together! I swear you'll enjoy yourself! Please say yes!"
And so the plan was made for the four of you to go out. You didn't know how kika always managed to persuade you into things like this. You smoothed out your red dress and locked your flat after you received a text from kika saying they were here.
"Y/N! I missed you!" Kika hugged you as soon as you stepped into the parking lot, squeezing you tightly.
"You don't welcome me like this!" You heard Pierre's voice as he came out of the car.
"Cry about it gasly!" You laughed. He huffed joining your hug.
"Let's go! We don't wanna be late!" You three piled on Pierre's car. You did notice the absence of the fourth person who was supposed to be here but didn't question it.
"Charles is going to meet us directly there" Pierre had informed you smirking. You nodded at him and then went back to talking with Kika.
It was an hour later that you saw him talking on the phone as he entered the arcade. A smile appeared as soon as he saw Pierre waving his hand. You couldn't deny that he was the most gorgeous man you had ever seen. He beelined towards where you all were standing, quickly hugging Pierre and then Kika. You stood quietly behind them feeling a little shy.
"You're late! You were supposed to come an hour ago!" Pierre laughed clapping his shoulder. He laughed, his dimples popping against his cheeks. As he looked up your eyes connected and you stopped breathing, your heart racing against your chest as you smiled bashfully at him. The answering smile he gave you was one of the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.
"She was the one I was telling you about Charlie! I'll introduce you, Charles this is Y/N and Y/N this is Charles my best mate!" He offered you his hand to shake and you prayed that yours wasn't sweaty.
"Hey! I've heard a lot about you! Nice to finally meet you, now I could finally put a face to your name!" He smiled, his easy going nature had instantly put you at ease.
"All good I hope! Also don't believe whatever Pierre says about me chances are he's totally lying!" You had said side eyeing Pierre knowing he liked to joke about you.
"Trust me I know!" Charles winked at you as you walked along.
"Let's go guys! Should we team up against each other and whomever loses its their treat!" Pierre exclaimed pointing towards the different set up of games.
"Oh! You're definitely going down!" Charles said as they discussed which games to play.
"They're so competitive! Are you alright? All good?" Kika asked standing beside you. You nodded and laughed as the two boys argued with each other.
"Okay! It's me and Kika against Y/n and you! Let's see who wins!" What?!
"Okay let's do it!" Charles said as he came towards you. Kika squeezed your hand before going towards Pierre. Honestly you couldn't even be mad because it was ridiculous how competitive they get over silly games.
"I could count on you, right?" Charles asked as you went to the basketball set up on the far end.
"yup! Although I'm not that confident with balls" you had mumbled before looking at him wife eyed, turning red at your own words. Charles laughed at your expression.
"Nice to know... don't worry I'll make it work!" You blushed at his words as he chuckled. Charles had scored a decent 200 points in the basketball game against Pierre's 190.
"Come on! You can do it!" He encouraged you as you went to stand against Kika. It was after you had scored 90 points and the last ball remained. You don't know if it was your nervousness because of which you had exerted a lot more force than necessary causing the ball to smack against the board and fly back and directly hit Charles.
"oh my god! I'm so sorry! Are you okay? Are you hurt?" You had quickly jumped back and went to Charles who stood covering his face. It didn't help that Pierre was literally on his knees because he was laughing so much.
"Pierre stop laughing and do something! Oh my god what if I broke his nose!? What if he can't drive again?!" You rambled holding Charles face as he stood groaning. What if he sues you for physical harm?!
" You weren't joking when you said you weren't good with balls huh?" You turned red on his comment, a little less worried when you saw that he was laughing.
"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to I swear!" You apologized holding his cheeks to see if there was any significant damage.
" It's fine. I'm good" You looked at him and saw him watching you with a smile. You dropped your hands from his cheeks suddenly feeling embarrassed.
"It was the best ever! I wish I could have recorded that!" Pierre was still chuckling. Yup this totally counts as your one of the most embarrassing moments of your life. You were never gonna live it down. See bad day!
After that you had refused to play any games involving balls which caused Pierre to snort and Charles to look at you teasingly. Apart from the ball incident, all the other games were okay and you participated along with Charles, his competitive nature rubbing off on you. At the end of the games you and Charles won by 15 points and you couldn't keep the smile off your face.
"What's your excuse Gasly? Not good enough?" You smiled smugly at him knowing it was clearly Charles who was the reason you won.
"Maybe but I can definitely handle a few balls!" You had shut up quickly after that.
"Should we go eat now?" Kika asked as you all walked out of the Arcade.
"yeah I'm starving! Should we go to the usual? Ah but Charles you came with your car right? Why don't you both meet us there?" Pierre grinned.
"Sure, if that's okay with you?" Charles inquired smiling at you. And that is how you ended up in Charles car. The car ride was a little awkward at first, with you still cringing remembering the ball incident.
"Are you honestly okay? I didn't hurt you too much, did I?" You asked worried.
"Oh don't worry about it! But I know Pierre's not gonna let me forget it!" You groaned knowing Pierre will bring it up any chance he gets. He laughed at your reaction.
"Tell me about yourself?" He blurted after a while causing you to look at him.
"umm what do you want to know?"
"Anything" he insisted. And that is how your conversation started which didn't end till you reached the sea facing restaurant and till then you got to know Charles and vice versa.
The dinner went smoothly with light chatter and teasing here and there. Pierre didn't let you forget the ball incident casually ordering cheese balls for you so that "you could handle balls better"- his words.
At the end of the night you were glad that you decided to come out with them. Your bad day was forgotten in the back of your mind as you laughed at the stories shared by Charles and Pierre. You took pictures to remember the day and ended the night with a promise to hang out together next time when the boys came back for holidays.
The next morning you woke up to Charles following you on Instagram and a mention from Kika's story. And a message from kika asking how was the blind date to which you had answered- it definitely wasn't a blind date.
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bvidzsoo · 4 months
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Lust we both share
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◆Vampire!Seonghwa◆
TW: cursing, blood, suggestive
◆Read this before reading this one or else it won't make much sense, trust me◆
Word count: 6,132
A/N: I have no idea what to call this lol, a drabble? I really don't know, but I swear to God ever since I've written that request for Halloween (@seonghwasbobaeyes repectfully this is your fault haha, so uhm, I hope you enjoy the short part 2?) this Seonghwa has been plaguing my mind and yesterday I decided, why not, I'll write some more and see what happens lol. I might write one more part like this one, short since I don't want to turn it into a full story. Lol, I hope y'all enjoy it! Feedback is appreciated!
1. Moroi-are born vampires, imbued with the magic to have power over the elements;
2. Dhampir-are half-human, half-vampires who are born to protect the Moroi. Don't have elemental magic, but have enhanced strength and senses making them the strongest protection against the Strigoi;
3. Strigoi- are the type of vampires that one would expect from an old horror classic
            Everything went back to normal after we returned from the one-week long test. Seonghwa continued being his usual self, arrogant, and awfully annoying. And I continued ignoring him as best as I could and making fun of his existence behind his back. Seeing him everywhere I went suddenly became even more infuriating compared to before the whole test, and I couldn’t decide whether I was paying more attention to Seonghwa now or if he was everywhere on purpose. His words held an unsaid promise, ‘One or two won’t, indeed’, and I couldn’t help but feel on edge almost all the time. For some unexplainable reason, I expected him to show up in the middle of the night and suck my blood dry, leaving me dead in my own bed, only to be found in the morning when Seonghwa has already had time to flee and cover his tracks. It didn’t help that I started having nightmares too with him showing up when I least expected it, when my guard was down, his eyes crimson red and face smeared with blood, face oddly pale. It looked like Seonghwa, yet at the same time it didn’t. He didn’t look like his usual self in the nightmares, and sometimes it made me ponder that, perhaps, I wasn’t seeing the Seonghwa I knew. The moroi Seonghwa, but a strigoi turned Seonghwa. That thought didn’t sit well with me and it also scared me. When did I start caring about his safety? Was that one week spent with him long enough to mess with the chemistry of my brain? Or was this the doing of his vampire venom? Was I already addicted? Was my body craving for more? I couldn’t decide, nor quite understand my own thoughts and wants, and that scared me. It’s not like I could go and talk to Kazuha about it, a moroi drinking from a dhampir was strictly forbidden, and no matter how tight and close our friendship with Kazuha was, I knew she’d snitch on me to the Principal the second she was out of my sight. I knew she loved me, but she followed the rules quite strictly and anything which went against them and she caught whiff of it would be reported immediately. And besides, I just simply couldn’t talk about it. A dhampir offering up their blood willingly was…something like prostitution. I would be called a blood-whore. Everyone would look down on me and cast me out. I wasn’t afraid of being on my own, but I couldn’t allow such thing happening in my last year at the Academy, right before graduation on top of it all. Three more months and I would be free. Three more months and I wouldn’t have to see Seonghwa’s face ever again. Or that’s what I thought.
As I walked down the fancy corridor, headed towards the Principal’s office, all kinds of thoughts ran through my mind. Perhaps he found out I was the one who pulled that prank yesterday in hand-to-hand combat class. Or perhaps Jennie finally told on me to the Principal that I always pick on her. Or perhaps someone spread another obnoxious rumor about me. Or perhaps…everything was fucked because the Principal somehow found out what Seonghwa and I had done while we were away. Did Seonghwa have it in him to tell anyone about it? I knew he liked to boast about anything he could, but this…this thing was serious. It would ruin my life, but it could taint his own reputation too. He wouldn’t say anything about it, right?
I sighed and stopped abruptly in front of the Principal’s office; door wide open. Great, I couldn’t even collect my thoughts before I stepped inside. He was a moroi, so he has already heard me approaching, he swiftly glanced up and beckoned me inside. I tried to remain calm, aware that he could hear my heartbeat and would instantly pick up on it. I didn’t want to give myself away if perhaps I wasn’t called here for facing the repercussions of my actions.
“Good evening, Miss Lee.” The Principal said with a smile and I nodded, sitting down across from him. His desk was huge and made of oak, it looked extremely expensive, but when the Academy had good funds, I guess he could afford it, “How have you been? Haven’t had to call you to the office in quite a while.”
I chuckled, rubbing my hands together to distract myself, suddenly my heartbeat picking up. Don’t panic, he seems to be in a good mood, “I have been behaving, Mr. Yoon. I’m doing quite fine lately, stressed about the graduation.”
The Principal hummed, rubbing his chin as if he was confused, “Good thing you brought that up. It’s why I called you here to talk.”
Fuck, what about it? I cleared my throat and my body suddenly tensed, but I leaned back in the chair, trying to look nonchalant about it.
“You know Park Seonghwa—it would be hard no to—” The Principal’s eyebrows suddenly rose as my heart somersaulted, and I cursed myself for reacting so quickly. I cleared my throat and looked away embarrassed, avoiding eye contact as the man grinned at me. Why was he bringing Seonghwa up? Did he know? Did he somehow find out? Did Seonghwa tell him?, “I see hearing his voice alone makes you quite—angry.”
For someone who could hear my heartbeat and pick up on body language, the Principal misread my reaction quite badly. It made me chuckle as I tried acting like I was angry, since that’s what the Principal thought I was feeling like, “Yes, well, everyone knows how I feel about Seonghwa.”
“Indeed,” The Principal chuckled and quickly became serious soon after, “well, you might have to work on your differences with Mr. Park, because he requested for you to be his guardian after graduation—”
“What?!” I nothing but shouted as I sprung up to my feet, feeling angry for real now, mouth hanging open, “He did what?!”
The Principal only looked amused as he stared at me, waiting for me to sit down, but I couldn’t. My blood was boiling and my muscles were tense, I couldn’t sit still. So, I walked behind the chair and started pacing up and down, chewing on my lower lip as the Principal chuckled again, way too amused by my dismay.
“I see you left a deep impression on him during that one week of testing, Miss Lee, it’s impressive.” The Principal started, face coated in surprise, “He came in very determined and confident today, formular about his request in his hands and already completed. He even kept a long speech about how serious you were about your duties and how safe he felt with you, never having to look over his shoulder or fear for his life. Everyone knows you’re an exceptional student at the Academy, Miss Lee, even if a little bit mischievous, but Mr. Park’s words were a rather pleasant surprise. I’m very pleased to see you evolve into a mature and responsible dhampir, and I can’t wait to forward the request to the Queen—”
“No!” I exclaimed, looking at the Principal wide-eyed, “What—what if I refuse his request?”
“You know you can’t do that.” The Principal reminded me of the protocol, I knew that, but I really didn’t want to become Seonghwa’s guardian. Spending one week with him was one thing, but spending who knows how many years with him would be pure torture, “At least not until you have guarded him for five years. After that you’re free to decide whether you want to continue guarding him or change to someone else.”
“Can’t I decide right now that I don’t want to guard him for the next five years, Mr. Yoon?” I asked defeated, closing my eyes and running my hands through my hair. This was really bad. It didn’t help that my hair was all knotted up from the wind and I pulled on the tangled strands painfully with my fingers, adding only fuel to my anger. I really couldn’t deal with anything right now.
“I’m afraid not, Miss Lee,” The Principal chuckled as if I had said the joke of the year, “Thank you for coming tonight, though, a special request like this hasn’t been done in decades at our Academy. The Queen will certainly be proud of you, there’s few female dhampirs and to have you so talented and dedicated is indeed something to be proud of.”
I couldn’t care less about the Queen and what she thought about me, this was horrible. Suddenly, I didn’t want to graduate anymore, “Am I dismissed?”
“Of course, go enjoy your night, Miss Lee—” I turned and basically sprinted towards the door, but the Principal called out, “Not too much, though, I know about the party!”
That was least of my problems right now as I stormed down the hallways, headed for my shared dorm with Kazuha. Perhaps getting called to the Principal’s office for misbehaving suddenly sounded so much better than for what I got called in just right now. I couldn’t believe Seonghwa followed through with his words just because I let him taste my sweet blood. God, I am such an idiot, if I never allowed him to drink from me this would’ve never happened. I did this to myself, and I couldn’t help but feel desperation crawl all over my body and rage fill my veins as I saw red, Seonghwa’s name like a chant echoing through my mind, wishing for nothing more than to put a dagger through his heart.
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            Kazuha wasn’t in our room when I had returned, which made my state worsen as I threw everything off my desk, screaming and punching my least favorite pillow for five minutes straight. I wasn’t always good at managing my anger, that’s why I was so good at training classes. I channeled all the pent-up rage and frustration into fighting, beating everyone, even the largest and strongest dhampirs at our Academy. Despite wanting to scream for longer, our next-door neighbor banged on the shared wall and shouted for me to shut up and go for a walk, making me scream back a fuck you, before I stormed inside the bathroom and took a cold shower, wallowing in nothing but despair as I refused to cry. I wouldn’t cry about something like this, all I had to do was find a way to sabotage myself of being Seonghwa’s guardian, but not the point that I wouldn’t be able to guard anyone else. Perhaps if I incriminate him with something forbidden I could get rid of him, but these thoughts were currently pushed to the back of my mind as Kazuha and I were huddled together in a quieter corner of the room, with me retelling everything the Principal has said. She was tipsy, but she paid close attention, her eyes wide and mouth open as she ignored a guy who tried pulling her towards the drinks table. I cast him a glare before he hurried off, sending me nasty looks that I didn’t bother to care about.
“Are you serious about Seonghwa wanting you to be his guardian?” Kazuha repeated for the third time, and frankly, I was getting fed up.
“Yes! If you ask once more, I swear to God, I will punch you.” I threatened and Kazuha laughed.
“I’m just too shocked to accept reality—and perhaps tipsy too, but—this sounds like a nightmare for you, Y/N, I’m really sorry.” She said with a pout and patted my arm, feeling sympathetic for me. I scoffed and crossed my arms, my grip around the red cup tightening.
“Sounds like a nightmare for me? Doesn’t it for everyone?!” I exclaimed, but it went unnoticed as the music was blasting through the speakers loudly and everyone around us was busy with whatever they were doing.
“I hate to break it to you, sweetie, but the other dhampirs at our Academy would kill to get to be Seonghwa’s guardian. He’s filthy rich and will most likely inherit his father’s business, meaning you won’t ever have to overwork yourself as he will sit in a fucking office chair, doing nothing all day long. And on top of that, his family doesn’t live in a moroi community, so you won’t have to worry about seeing a strigoi too often, Y/N, you quite literally hit the jackpot with him.” Kazuha’s voice sounded slightly tinged with jealousy, but I knew it was the alcohol making her feel like that, “Imagine if you got paired up with San, who likes hiking, and lives in a remote area somewhere in the mountains! Y/N, that’s literally where nests of strigois live, I’d rather die than spend the next five years with San—or Wooyoung, for that matter! Jesus, that guy never shuts up—”
“Speaking of the devil!” I groaned as Wooyoung bounced over, two red cups in his hands.
“Here you two were!” Kazuha and I turned to look at Wooyoung quite unimpressed, his mouth pulled into a lazy smile, quite obvious that he was drunk off his ass.
“Wooyoung, I told you to leave me alone—” Kazuha started, but Wooyoung pressed one cup against her lips, making her cringe away from the strong smell of whatever alcohol he had mixed in there.
“Baby, did you forget about our bet?” Suddenly, Wooyoung’s lips pulled up into a smirk and a dangerous glint appeared in his eyes. I looked at Kazuha with a questioning glance, having not heard of this up until now. Kazuha looked uncomfortable for a second as she glanced back at me and then sighed.
“Fine, lead the way.” She muttered, but thanks to Wooyoung’s heightened senses, he heard her and chuckled, turning around to lead the way to wherever they were headed. I raised my eyebrows at Kazuha as she glanced back at me with a pout, but she only shook her head, meaning that she’d explain later. I watched as my best friend walked off with the moroi she had to protect during the week of testing, her shoulders pulled back and strut straight, signs of her tipsiness all gone. I shook my head and downed the rest of my drink, needing a refill immediately. I had to stop thinking about Seonghwa and the request.
            After some dancing and chit chatting with other dhampirs from my classes, somehow, I found myself involved into a truth or dare game. Ten of us sat in a circle and spun the bottle, daring each other stupid and outrageous things, hollering with laughter whenever someone said or did something stupid. I was positively drunk by now, but I was aware of what was happening around me and to me. It’s why I decided to be the boring one for the first time while playing this game, and opted to only take truths. My hyper senses were dim due to the alcohol, and it was hard to keep up with everyone around me, not as alert as I usually would be. It’s why I didn’t notice Seonghwa sneaking up behind me as I had stood up, ass numb from sitting for so long, stretching out my legs. The question I had to answer was, “Have you ever done something forbidden, and if yes, what was it?”
“Forbidden as in—school level forbidden or—by law forbidden?” I asked with a smirk and the guy who asked me previously shouted out that ‘law forbidden’. I hummed and shrugged, pretending to think about it for a moment.
“Nope, I might do stupid shit but I’m not that dumb—” The chuckle got caught in my throat as an arm sneaked around my middle and a chest was pressed against my back. I didn’t have time to freeze or to even throw the other person over my shoulder before a hot breath hit my neck, cold lips pressing lightly against my ear.
“Are you sure about that, love?” My body went rigid, breath catching in my throat. After Seonghwa drank my blood we haven’t spoken as I did everything I could to avoid him, and he seemed fine with that, not particularly fond of spending his time with me.
“Get off.” I snapped and wrestled myself out of his iron grip, heart beating franticly and throat dry all of a sudden. Silence settled upon the group I was playing with as they watched us curiously, expecting a fight as it often happened when Seonghwa and I talked to each other. He seemed so smug as he stared me down, pink hair slicked back, and white shirt unbuttoned until the middle of his chest, showing off his milky and flawless skin. I scowled at him, fighting the urge of punching the smirk off his face.
“Playing without me?” He suddenly addressed the group, looking at them boredly. I rolled my eyes and collected my cardigan from where I had been sitting, wearing it as I had no intention of continuing playing the game with Seonghwa here. With the alcohol in my system nobody could stop me from beating his ass up.
“Wanna join?” Someone very drunk called out from the group and Seonghwa shrugged one shoulder, not looking too interested as his eyes fell back on me.
“Leaving so soon?” He asked, taking in my attire as his eyes ran up and down my body. Despite being fully covered and dressed, I was wearing black jeans, a black crop top and now the velvety cardigan, I felt exposed under his gaze. I could’ve sworn his eyes flashed crimson for a second, but perhaps it was a trick of the party lights around us.
“I’m not in the mood to see your face tonight, Seonghwa—”
“Pity,” He hummed, fake pouting, “I really wanted to run over some clauses our contract will contain once we both graduate—”
“Fuck you, Seonghwa,” My blood was boiling again, and thanks to the alcohol, I found myself all up in his face, glaring up at him furiously, “I will do anything I can to stop it from happening.”
Seonghwa’s eyes slightly narrowed, his icy long fingers suddenly wrapped around my wrist. Why was he so cold? And why did the corner of his lips look slightly red? Like something was smudged. Did he—just come back from feeding? The sudden tinge of my cheeks made me curse myself, and I hated how my heart picked up just from the thought of it. I felt dirty.
“That’s a pity, Y/N, my mother already spoke to the Queen about it, and she was delighted to hear such amazing news.” My jaw clenched and I yanked my wrist out of his grip, storming past him as our shoulders crashed together, leaving me fuming.
            I did everything I could to avoid Seonghwa at the party, and so, that led me to dancing almost the whole time. I was feeling the music and the vibes as I moved to the beat of the music, even found some random dhampir to make out with. As long as we didn’t do anything stupid, it was fine. A dhampir shouldn’t mingle with a dhampir, but we were only enjoying ourselves, it wasn’t anything serious. But I started feeling tired after a while and decided to take a breather. I sauntered over to the bathroom to freshen up a little bit, only to talk to myself in the mirror when I saw my reflection. Drunk me was rather funny as I scolded myself for drinking too much, suddenly remembering that I hadn’t seen Kazuha since she walked off with Wooyoung. Did they even come back? Finding her became my next mission, and so I was walking around the place, looking for my best friend. My head was spinning and if I wanted to see the people’s faces clearly I had to lean in very close, getting weird looks and glares as I did so. Turns out finding Kazuha was harder than I thought. Then, I realized that I should probably peek inside some rooms around the place where the party was held, we were on the side of the campus which wasn’t used anymore. But my plan might’ve not been the smartest idea as I saw some unwanted things, but still no sight of Kazuha. There was one more room I had to check before I would head back to the party, and when I pushed the door open, I realized it must’ve once been a study room as it held three desks and chairs, the room coated in darkness. There was nobody inside. But before I could walk away, I was pushed forward and I stumbled inside the room, almost losing my footing as I gripped onto the chair, startled. I gasped and turned around sharply, having to squeeze my eyes shut for a few seconds from how badly my head started thumping. The person inside didn’t turn on the lights, and as I opened my eyes, I took in the man standing in front of me. I could see well in the dark, and I could recognize that silhouette anywhere. I groaned as I went to push Seonghwa out of the way and walk out the small room, but his arm shoot out, making me run into it. I threw him a glare, but he just looked down at me with an unreadable expression on his face.
“What are you doing?” I snapped, jaw clenching as Seonghwa leaned to the left, where his hand was, and narrowed his eyes at me.
“I saw you wandering around mindlessly—”
“I wasn’t wandering around mindlessly,” I scoffed, “I’m looking for Kazuha.”
“She’s busy with Wooyoung, no need to look for her.” Seonghwa said nonchalantly and I narrowed my eyes at him.
“Do you know what’s happening?” I asked accusingly and he shrugged, removing his hand from the wall and blocking my path with his body now.
“They are probably fucking, love, that’s what’s happening.” My face pulled up into disgust. I desperately hoped the bet didn’t have to do anything with that outcome.
“Great, you can fuck off then.” I muttered with a fake smile, but when I tried sidestepping Seonghwa, he blocked my path again.
“Not so fast, Y/N, we have some catching up to do.” Seonghwa said with a smirk, stepping closer, making me step back. My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at him, feeling unsure all of a sudden. What did he want? Why was he here?
“No, we don’t.” My voice was firm, but Seonghwa just chuckled as he reached out for me, holding me by the waist as he pulled me into his body. The breath caught in my throat as his body heat warmed me up, his sweet scent intoxicating. His eyes were rimmed with eyeliner and I gulped as they flashed crimson, red swirling in his irises. Could he…want something from me? At that thought my heartbeat picked up and Seonghwa inhaled deeply, closing his eyes momentarily, flustering me. His plush lips parted, and when he opened his eyes again, his eyes were a deep red, almost glowing in the darkness. I didn’t feel scared, even though I should’ve as his features turned hungry, menacing even.
“You smell so fucking sweet it makes me lose my mind.” He let out a long breath, leaning down and nuzzling his nose against my neck. I grew stiff, mouth parting as my breathing picked up, memories of that night returning. Seonghwa said nothing else as his hot breath fanned my neck, covering my skin in goosebumps as I gripped his bicep with my right hand.
“I don’t—you can’t—” I didn’t know what I wanted to say, I didn’t know what to do. My body felt hot and electrified by Seonghwa’s proximity, yearning for something more. But we couldn’t let that happen again. It was a mistake the first time too. Seonghwa hummed in understanding, perhaps thoughts straying in the same direction as mine, and instead, I felt his warm lips press feather like kisses up to my jaw. My grip tightened around his bicep as he pulled his head back, staring into my eyes as his own flashed between red and their usual brown.
“I know we can’t.” He whispered and then perhaps we both moved at the same time, but our lips were pressing against each other as I leaned up on my tiptoes, Seonghwa’s head ducked down to reach my height. My arms wrapped around his neck and his hands around my middle as he pulled me into himself, mouths hungry as they moved against each other passionately. I couldn’t help but breathe in his scent, nose pressed against his cheek as Seonghwa’s lips pressed bruisingly against mine, eager for more. He walked me backwards until my legs hit the desk and I was climbing up on it, Seonghwa’s hands guiding me. His hands gripped my cheeks and fingers dug into my skin painfully as he sucked on my lower lip, making me hiss when he wouldn’t release it. He was trying to draw blood and I yanked my head back, glaring at him. He stood between my legs and one of my finger’s hooked against his belt as Seonghwa pressed closer, lean body pushing against mine. He tilted my head back, biting my earlobe and slowly kissing down from there to my collarbone, making me let out long sighs, my grip on his hip tightening when he sucked harder on the juncture between my neck and shoulder, finding my sweet spot. I moaned quietly as Seonghwa’s tongue licked at the mark, his teeth suddenly biting down against my skin. I jumped and body tensed in reaction, ready to fling him off myself, but his fangs never shirked and no pain followed. He was probably fighting against his own urges, trying to control himself. I pulled his head back and Seonghwa’s jaw was clenched as we stared at each other, his breathing ragged as he looked like he hadn’t drunk blood in years. It didn’t bring as much dread as I expected it to, but my heartbeat picked up again and Seonghwa quickly crashed his lips against mine, kissing me hungrily as his tongue pushed past my lips and I sucked on it, making Seonghwa moan into my mouth, sending an electric shock through my body. I pulled his body closer as our tongues danced together, lapping at each other’s mouths, Seonghwa’s body just as affected by our actions as mine as my hand briefly brushed against his semi-hard on. I kissed him back more eagerly, more messily, making Seonghwa groan into my mouth as suddenly his hand was gripping my neck firmly, pushing me backwards. I allowed him to do so, my back arching as his free hand was placed on the small of my back, flushing our lower bodies together. My hips moved on its own as heat pooled up in my lower stomach, needing some friction as Seonghwa groaned, his own hips grinding down against mine, making me grip onto his pink locks tightly as he sucked on my lower lip harshly again.
“You have to stop doing that—” I panted out, words cut off as Seonghwa ground against me again, harsher this time. These clothes on us were getting frustrating and I felt Seonghwa’s grip on my throat tighten as I went to undo his belt.
“Not tonight,” He choked out, gripping my wrist harshly, making me hiss. But I didn’t listen to him as I palmed him through his pants, his grip around my neck close to cutting off my air, perhaps that would bruise by tomorrow, “Not tonight, love, I’m on the brink of losing control.”
My jaw was clenched as I allowed Seonghwa to take my hand away and pin it against the table, “Fuck, I hate you. Why would you start something you can’t finish—”
“If you want me to suck you dry while I fuck your brains out, then by all means, Y/N, let’s keep going.” His voice was hard as he snapped and I finally opened my eyes, looking up into his crimson red ones. I didn’t think his eyes could darken anymore further, but the look on his face made fear root deep into my bones. My senses kicked in, and suddenly, my hand was around his wrist which was holding my neck, muscles tense as I calculated the best way to free myself without doing much damage to him. Seonghwa sensed my change in demeanor and loosened his grip on me, but still didn’t let go.
“I don’t plan on killing you, you can relax.”
“Yeah, well it doesn’t feel like it right now.” I snapped, eyes narrowed as Seonghwa chuckled and the grip from my neck disappeared as he instead held my chin with his thumb and forefinger, raising my chin up. He stared down at me with a smirk, amusement twinkling in his eyes.
“Despite your body sensing danger you’re still here in my arms, enjoying whatever I’m doing to you, don’t you?” I couldn’t help but glare at him and slap his hand away, head clearing enough to realize I was just about to have sex with Seonghwa had he not stopped us. I felt even more hatred towards him as I yanked my other hand out from underneath his as pushed him back by his chest, but Seonghwa didn’t budge. How was I weaker than him? That was impossible. Seonghwa just chuckled and leaned down, resting his hands on both sides of my knees.
“I like to play the damsel in distress, love, but it doesn’t mean I’m actually one.” His words were mocking, and suddenly, I realized I had no idea who Seonghwa was. Well, who the real Seonghwa was. I gulped as I watched him reach out and pull a strand of hair behind my ear, tilting my head up as he leaned down and pressed a long kiss against my lips. I didn’t react at first, but when he deepened it, my mouth opened automatically and I was back to making out with him, the pace a lot slower this time and more sensual. My heart was racing and body jittery all over again, but this kiss didn’t last for long as he suddenly pulled back, eyebrows furrowed.
“Why did you let me drink your blood?” He suddenly whispered; voice strained. I gulped, but my mouth felt dry as I realized I didn’t have a real reason other than a very dumb one.
“I—I was curious—” When Seonghwa’s eyes opened, I felt ashamed of myself, “I was curious of what it felt like.”
Despite expecting him to call me names, his jaw just clenched and his eyes flashed red again, “I should have known better. We made a mistake, Y/N, I—I can’t feed off of humans like before anymore. Their blood isn’t enough—the taste, it’s terrible.”
My eyes widened as I gaped at Seonghwa, trying to understand what this meant. But I really couldn’t, I didn’t know how morois worked, I didn’t know what would happen next or what he was supposed to do to fix the situation. Despite knowing better, the words tumbled out of my mouth before I could think more, much like last time, “Are you hungry?”
Seonghwa froze for a second before he nodded his head rigidly, jaw clenching as his eyes fell onto my neck, “Starved.”
My breath caught in my throat and our eyes connected as I chewed on my bottom lip, body flaming at the memory of what his bite felt like. My mind was suddenly silenced and all I could think about was the feeling of his fangs as they started sucking my blood, making me gasp. I couldn’t be already addicted to his venom; it would be too soon. But was it possible that Seonghwa would get addicted to my blood? I’ve never read about such thing before. As Seonghwa let out a long sigh I pushed my hair behind my shoulders, and bared my neck for him. He huffed, but his finger ran along my skin, his eyes seemingly mesmerized by the action.
“Seonghwa—” His name came out in a throaty breath and before we could think more, his mouth parted and his fangs poked through, head leaning closer and closer to my neck. My body tensed when his breath hit my skin and I leaned my head further back as he pressed a soft kiss against my skin, much like last time, teeth clamping down on my skin, fangs pushing deep inside my flesh. I yelped and my grip on the table tightened until my knuckles turned white as the pain lasted longer this time, Seonghwa took his time before he started sucking, before his venom spread through my bloodstream. His cold fangs felt very uncomfortable and I whined as my neck went numb, on the verge of asking him to stop, but then suddenly, I felt him sucking on my blood, a hand coming up to hold the side of my face. Seonghwa moaned loudly when my blood entered his system and I sighed as suddenly my head felt fuzzy and mind empty, jitters all over my body as goosebumps covered my skin. The warmth was back in my body, heath pooling in my stomach, as Seonghwa drank more, pushing his fangs even down deeper, making my mouth open in a silent mewl, feeling like his fangs touched a nerve as pleasure exploded in my body, vision blurred and eyelids heavy as my brain felt fogged up. If it weren’t for Seonghwa holding my head, it would’ve fallen back, and his grip tightened when suddenly my body softened, momentarily having lost feeling of all of my muscles, dark spots covering my vision. He was drinking too much, my body wouldn’t hold on for too long as I went numb against him, unable to speak or pull away. But Seonghwa knew what he was doing and suddenly stopped, fangs still in my muscle, breathing hard against my skin. My head started spinning even worse than before as the dark spots very slowly cleared, and I hissed as he pulled back, cold fangs disappearing from my skin as his eyes glowed a light red in the darkness as he shook my head lightly.
“I’m—here.” I muttered, gulping multiple times, letting out a shaky breath as my body regained feeling, muscles tensing all of a sudden, brain on high alert as it pushed away the euphoric feeling. The crash from the high was worse this time as I felt nausea pool in my stomach and I gagged, slapping a hand against my mouth.
“Are you alright?” Seonghwa asked alarmed and I took a deep breath, fighting the urge of throwing up. I probably needed water. I have drank too much alcohol. I nodded wordlessly as Seonghwa helped me off the table, but supported my weight, “Alright, I’ll take you back to your dorm.”
“I can go on my own.” I muttered as my head spun harshly, forcing me to take deep breaths.
“No, you can’t.” Seonghwa rolled his eyes and suddenly I was up in the air and then secured in his arms, held bridal style. My eyebrows furrowed as I threw him a glare, but Seonghwa ignored me as he went to open the door, “I can’t decide if you’re about to fain or throw up, you clearly can’t walk.”
“You took too much this time.” I whispered as he hurried down the hallway, his longs legs allowing him to take long strides.
“I stopped in time.” Seonghwa’s jaw was clenched as he briefly glanced down at me, but I just shook my head.
“You still took too much.”
“The marks will be gone by noon.” He changed the subject as he walked out onto the courtyard, the crisp air of the early morning was refreshing and I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath.
“You have to fix your problem, because this won’t happen ever again.” I hoped Seonghwa understood, he had to. He could kill me anytime by accident. Or I could get addicted and then my whole life would be ruined. Or someone could find out and we’d be fucked, me, especially.
“I know, it won’t happen again.” Seonghwa was serious for once and we shared eye contact briefly before my body suddenly felt too exhausted, tried to even keep my eyes open as whispers of how this was a huge mistake lulled me a to dreamless and restless sleep.
Dread filled me as a voice whispered in my head that this wouldn’t be the last time this happened.
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muwapsturniolo · 16 days
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✯Bestfriend's Brother✯
Summary: Nick has a crush on his best friend's brother and doesn’t know how to tell her.
warning: nothing really lmao
MWW1 MWW2
✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯
Nick was down bad.
He was currently stalking a certain boy on Instagram. Who was the boy? His best friend's older brother Florence. Florence was very attractive to Nick. He was 6'3, had nice brown skin, locs, and was a drummer.
To say Nick foamed at the mouth was an understatement.
He clicks on Florence's story and sees a video of Florence sitting on the ground as Y/n retwists his locs. without thinking twice, he calls Y/n's phone.
"Hello?" Florence's deep voice rings out. Nick basically jumps out of his skin, goosebumps rising on the back of his neck. "Hey Florence is Y/n busy?" Nick manages to get out.
"Yeah she's rig- Ow! Stop yanking so hard!"
"Stop fucking moving then!" Y/n's voice is heard in the background faintly. "Yeah, her heavy-handed ass is here. She's retwisting my hair so she couldn't answer the phone. Could I take a message?"
"Just wanted to know if she could hang out is all." Mumbling is heard before Florence responds. "She said come over. She's almost done ripping out my- Y/n imma fuck you up!" Nick giggles hearing the siblings fighting. He hangs up the phone, quickly changing and catching an Uber to the house.
He arrives quickly, the home of the siblings not being too far from his own. He walks inside and follows the sound of arguing. "You're yanking on purpose!"
"No, you're just tender-headed and don't know how to sit fucking still!"
Nick opens the room door and the siblings look at him in surprise. it's almost uncanny how much the two look alike, but It makes sense with the two being twins. That's mainly how Nick and Y/n became so close, both of them relating to being a twin.
"Nick! " She shouts excitedly. She stands up, giving him a side hug before going back to doing Florence's hair. "I should finish up soon! Then we could go out or something." Nick nods and settles down on the beanbag in the corner.
The two fall into a conversation, the subjects changing quickly. as they talk, Nick can't help but to keep eyeing Florence, watching as his jaw clenches when Y/n separates the hair, or how his arms flex in his muscle tee when he hands Y/n a hair clip. The two males suddenly make eye contact and Nick freezes, does he give him a smile? Should he play it off like he was looking at something else?
Florence grunts and rolls his eyes making Nick want to curl up into a ball. Did he just make himself seem weird? Is Florence annoyed with him? Maybe he should leave and blame it on not feeling well.
"Ok!" Nick jumps and looks at Y/n who pushes Florence away from her. " You're done, now pay up!" She holds her hand out. The boy rolls his eyes, "go to my room and grab my wallet."
Y/n skips out of the room, leaving the boys alone.
"You like parties?" Florence randomly asks. Nick points to himself, "Me?" he questions. Florence chuckles and stands up, stretching his body out. Nick watches as his shirt rides up, the happy trail coming into view.
"Yes, you Nick. I wanted to know if you were up for a party this weekend."
His mouth runs dry at the question. He hates parties, but if Florence is inviting him, maybe he could go?
"I'll go... Is Y/n going?" Florence nods, taking his phone out. “Yeah,”
Nick swears he hears Florence mutter “unfortunately” but he has to be wrong. It has to be his disappointment that his best friend is tagging along that's making him hear things.
He begins to feel bad.
What’s wrong with him? Why does he want to be alone with Florence so badly?
He shakes his head, ridding those thoughts and smiles at Florence.
So here they are, at the party. Nick had lost track of Y/n a long time ago, so he stayed in the corner nursing a drink and scrolling through his phone.
"I invited you to this party to socialize Nicholas." He looks up and sees a half-lidded Florence. It's clear as day he was smoking, the weed making his eyes red. "Y/n was swapped away by a group of girls so I just stayed here." The taller of the two hums before taking Nick's hand.
"Dance with me then." Nick quickly shakes his head, going on a spiel on how he doesn't dance. "come on, you're not Corbin blue, dance with me!" He begins to drag Nick where everyone is. Florence starts moving his body to the beat of the song, trying to get Nick to do the same. Nick slowly begins to do so, his actions still shy.
The song changes to Intimidated by Kaytranada and H.E.R, and the two of them begin to get closer, Florence's hands grabbing his waist. Nick's heart begins to race and he goes to pull away, but Florence pulls him closer, "Relax, just dance with me." He whispers in Nick's ear.
Nick sucks in a breath and does as told. Their bodies move together, swaying with the beat.
Don't wanna waste the feel (feel) Like we could make it real 
Nick can't tell if he's hallucinating or not, it looks like Florence is getting closer to him.
Don't run away when you could be lovin' me
He's not hallucinating, Florence is in fact getting closer to him. He can feel his breath fanning over his face, mainly on his lips. Nick's mind begins to run a mile a minute, is Florence going to make a move on him? Is he even Florences type? Nick is so in his head, he doesn't notice Florence smiling at him.
Don't overthink when you could be lovin' me
"Nick"
He snaps out of it and looks at the taller boy, only to be pulled into a kiss. It shocks him at first, but he feels his whole world blossoming into color. The music and chatter around them now sounding muffled.
The kiss lasts for a few seconds before they pull away from each other, breathing softly.
"Y/n can't know."
That was around a month ago.
Within that month, the two males spent time fooling around behind Y/n's back. Always giving lingering looks, small touches of affection, and even makeout sessions when Y/n is sleeping.
Nick knew it was wrong to be going behind Y/n's back like this, especially because they made a deal with each other.
"No dating each other's family members."
But, he couldn't help it. He could never get Florence out of his head. He always found him attractive, from the first day he met him. He knew he had a crush on the boy, but he never wanted to break the pact he made. Unfortunately, his best friend's brother was the one for him.
Here they are today, currently making out in Florence's room. Y/n had to go get groceries, so she told Nick to just wait for her to come back. The two took the chance, both knowing how long the girl could take in getting groceries.
Little did they know, the store had nothing the girl needed.
"Hey Flo have you seen-" the two jump apart hearing the girl's voice in the room. They look to the door and see her staring with wide eyes.
"Y/n..."
She quickly walks away, Nick jumping up and following her. "Y/n wait! Let me explain!"
"How long Nick?" She turns abruptly and crosses her arms. Nick hates being on the receiving end of the dirty look she's giving. he's so used to giving the look with her to other people.
"A month..." he confesses softly.
"A MON-" she stops herself from yelling and takes a deep breath. "You have been going behind my back, making out with my brother for a month straight? Nick we made a pact!"
"I know! I know, but Y/n just hear me out!"
She shakes her head, being stubborn about the situation. "No! I don't want to hear anything! You broke a promise! How would you feel if I slept with Matt or Chris?!"
" Ok well Florence and I have never slept with eachother-GOOD-" Nick gives her a look. " -But honestly, I might be grossed out at the thought but I wouldn't be mad about it...especially if you were happy," he answers honestly. He didn't want Y/n to be mad at him, he would honestly cry if the girl suddenly decided to stop being his best friend.
She stares at Nick, still pissed off but she doesn't have her defensive stance anymore. "Why my brother? My twin!"
"I developed a small crush on him when we first met... I know you don't get it Y/n but you would know what I mean if you weren't related."
Y/n scrunches her face up at the thought, "ew no! Nick shut up that's my brother! He's not even cute! He's ugly."
Florence rounds the corner, his shirt now on much to Nick's dismay. "We are literally twins Y/n. If I'm ugly that means you're ugly."
"No you're ugly, I'm cute as fuck... And shut your mouth! At the moment I don't like you!" Florence rolls his eyes and walks over to Y/n, pulling her into a hug, "Awww come on. You can't be mad at me. I'm your favorite brother! And I really do like Nick."
"You're my only brother dumb ass-" she hugs him back, relaxing in his hold. "- And I guess this is ok... I just don't like the fact you guys hid this from me."
Nick frowns at her words, " I know and I'm sorry... I love you." She smiles at Nick and pulls him into the hug. The three stand there, embracing each other with smiles on their faces.
"Alright let's lay down rules! No kissing in front of me, I might die, and no hogging Nick! He was my friend first, so you only get him on weekends and maybe when I'm sleeping!" Florence chuckles and kisses Nick's cheek.
Y/n punches Florence's arm making him wince, "What did I just say?!" She rolls her eyes and turns to Nick with a smirk on her face.
"And since you're dating my brother, that means I can stop turning Matt down!" Nick gives her a look but agrees anyway. "fine, that's only fair but the same rules apply!" He turns to Florence only to whip back to Y/n, "Wait! Matt has been flirting with you and asking you out?!"
She giggles and skips away to her room, "You two go back to making out, I'm going to text Matt and plan a date." With that her door closes and the two boys are left together.
" Want to go back to my room or should we piss her off and make out on the couch?" Nick laughs and pulls Florence towards the couch.
"This is payback for her not telling me about Matt."
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3RD FIC FOR MUWAP WEEK. i love this sm yall dont get it!!! I hope y'all don't mind that I made y'all nick's best friend and gave the love interest a name, I just really wanted to use the name! Also, I lowkey see Florence to be lukka sabbat but that's just me, imagine florence however yall want!!!
TMRWS FIC....
✯Malevolent✯
TAGLIST🍑
@bernardsgf @bernardsleftbootycheek @blahbel668 @mattfrfr @gdsvhtwa @sturniolo-aali @lily-loves-struniolos @kynda-avery @causeidontlikeagoldrush
@st7rnioioss @carolinalikesthings @mattslolita @suyqa @xxloveralways14 @pepsiimaxx @judespoision
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carakook · 25 days
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Bloom. °˖✧✿✧˖°
"You were just so… fuck, so pretty. So cute."
→ Chapters list ←
⚘3. Flower or Weeds?
🔞For Mature Audiences Only🔞
╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗
⚘Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader
⚘Synopsis: Tonight is all about getting closure from Jungkook so that you can try to move on… but you find yourself wanting to savor your last moments with him rather than dwell on answers to questions you don’t think you really want to know.
⚘Genre:Forbidden love
⚘Word count: 5k+
⚘Warnings: 18+ for mature audiences only, MDNI, emotional, mentions of cheating, mentions of sex (no smut this chapter, but it is talked about), mentions of toxic masculinity, mentions of arguing, vulgar language, breaking up (sort of?), mentions of rough sex, you will probably cry? let me know if I miss anything!
⚘Disclaimer: This story in no way reflects the characters of those who are mentioned. It is pure fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Please don’t take it seriously. Nothing is real in this story.
⚘A/N: Chapter three! So originally this was supposed to be a very long chapter… but I got carried away, and ended up having to split it up because the WC was way too high. 🥲 The next chapter is going to be released at the same time as this one, so you can read it directly after. Sorry this took so long, I didn’t expect to add so much but I did, and then some stuff came up this weekend. Anyway, enjoy this chapter, the one after this will have lots of smut but also… I cried writing it lol. Thank you for reading. ❤️
╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ :
♪Too Much - The Kid LAROI ft. Jungkook
♪Duvet - bôa
♪My Love Mine All Mine - Mitski
♪Scaredy Cat - DPR Ian
✧━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━✧
Closure is something that is needed anytime something ends. Not everyone gets the luxury of closure; some live their lives constantly thinking about the whys, the what-ifs.
Which is why you should be thankful Jungkook stepped up and offered it to you. You were too chicken shit to ask for it because you knew if you reached out to him, it wouldn’t be for closure; it would be for forgiveness. You’d beg him to take you back. He didn’t have to show up today. He could’ve left you wondering why and what if for the rest of your life. You both need this to move on.
And even in knowing this, you’re dreading it. Because closure means there’s an end… that this is truly ending.
Both of your flowers are about to be uprooted and planted elsewhere, far away from each other. The not knowing is what really makes you feel sick. Where will he go? Will he be nurtured, watered, fed? Will he continue to bloom, or will he wilt much like you are now?
Will he be ok?
What about you? Are you about to be placed in a greenhouse that will carefully protect your wilted petals? Or will you somehow find a garden where you belong and can flourish freely without siphoning the life of a flower that you swear doesn’t belong to you?
Or will you fucking wilt away and die?
It sure feels like you could die. Seeing him on his knees begging nearly killed you, as ridiculous as the gesture was. Seeing Jungkook so desperate and broken has fucked with your head almost as much as the prospect of losing him has.
You never wanted to lose him. Never. But this entire situation… has left you drained. You both know it can’t go on.
One last night, you both swear. Just one. For closure, of course…
You were thankful that the pizza guy showed up shortly after Jungkook got on his damn knees and begged (something you will never get over, by the way.), because neither of you knew where to start, he didn’t really plan this far, swore you’d cast him out. And you have no idea what you want out of this.
He insisted on paying for the pizza, seemed a little too eager to do so. But that’s not abnormal. If there’s an opportunity to buy you something, anything, whether it’s pizza or a necklace that costs half your paycheck, he will do it. He wants to do it.
The little things, they fuck you up. It’s like he’s adding salt to the wound.
Also… Jungkook is an emotional eater at times. He was thankful for the distraction because now he can avoid the awkwardness just a little longer while he stuffs his face with the pizza originally only meant for you.
So now you’re both sitting on your couch. His eyes are glued to the TV as he eats, and he looks irritated. Not because he’s actually irritated, just because that’s how he looks when he eats something yummy. Another one of your favorite things about him. He’s too precious.
The little things. They fuck you up. Again and again. Something as small as watching him eat pizza makes you want to give in to the sin and just let it be.
Maybe you could somehow steal the flower…
“This pizza tastes like sex,” he comments around a mouth full, his cheeks puffed out, and eyebrows scrunched as he chews.
You snort in response because there’s no way that cheap-ass pizza tastes like sex. He’s acting as if it’s a pizza from Italy or some shit. Dramatic.
“Don’t know if a pizza tasting like sex is a good thing, Kook…”
He immediately disagrees, shakes his head, and scrunches his brows further. He starts babbling about how sex is beautiful, the best thing in the world, blah blah blah. But you aren’t listening, not really.
Instead, you’re staring, taking in every little detail of him. The way his mouth moves when he speaks, the freckle below his lower lip moving with it. The way his eyes glitter when he talks about something he’s passionate about, such as sex-tasting pizza, apparently. Fuck, you swear there’s an entire galaxy in those eyes. Never seen eyes so expressive before. Stars and sparkles inside of his irises at all times. Or the way that not once has he looked at you since he started eating and babbling. Not once have those sparkly eyes full of stars glanced your way.
You know why. You know he’s procrastinating. He’s trying to make this seem normal like any other day you’d hang out and fuck around. He’s prolonging it.
You aren’t sure if it’s intentional, but he does this often. He’s so bad at saying goodbye. He would drag it out every single time you used to leave after a night spent together. Would keep saying bye, but then start talking about something, anything. Would tempt you to stay. And it worked every damn time because you didn’t want to leave. You didn’t want to leave him ever; you’d stay wrapped up in him for the rest of your life if possible. It’s why you never rushed him when he’d do it. You let him.
You want to let him now. But if you let him, he may never leave. You may never let him go.
You really should speak up, be blunt. Tell him that he didn’t come here to chit-chat and talk about why sex is beautiful or how this pizza is comparable to it; he came here to end this.
But if you did that, you’d have to acknowledge the prospect of closure again.
For you to receive proper closure on your end, there are unanswered questions that you need answers to.
You aren’t sure if you want the answers anymore because most revolve around his wife. The luckiest woman in the world, you think.
There are curious questions such as what her name is, how he met her, how long they’ve been married, and what she’s like… these aren’t important, just things that you’ve laid awake wondering at times when the guilt or jealousy started becoming too much.
Then there are questions like does he love her, why he did this, does she love him, why he did this, is he happy, why he did this, will he stay with her forever, why he did this…
Why did he do this to you both?
You know you’re both in the wrong. You’ve been sleeping with a married man, fuck, you fell in love with a married man, and you knew that he was married. That is wrong. So so so wrong. But you didn’t know at first. If you did, nothing he said would have convinced you to even look at him twice.
But it became regular. You slept with him once. Then you did it again. And you kept doing it. And at that time, while you were wearing those rose-colored glasses adorned in petals and leaves that fell off of him every time you crossed paths, you swore he was the one. Fell so quickly it was alarming.
Finding out he was married should have stopped this all. But you were already so fucking gone for him, so stupid in love, that you did it anyway. You told yourself that maybe one day he’ll leave her for you. You can run away together, build your own garden together, and live happily ever after.
It was delusional to think like this and you know it.
It’s exactly why you’re in your current position.
But you will never move on without the answers to those questions. You need to know, or it will plague you. This man planted your seed, nurtured your sprout, and made it grow beautifully into a flower. But the same man also put up umbrellas and blankets in an attempt to protect you from the rain and harsh sun, the harsh realities of his life, which really just made you wilt. You needed the rain, and you needed the sun; without it, you became tired and suffocated and confused.
He wanted so badly to protect you from the selfish choices he was making, but in the end, it just hurt you. Prevented you from flourishing to a full bloom like him.
And now you must pay the consequences, ask these questions you dread asking, and hear the answers that just might break you.
“Kook… we need to talk. Can’t put it off or you’ll stay forever.” You smile sadly as you pull him out of his rant.
He blinks at you, cheeks still stuffed with his third slice of pizza now. He knows you’re right. He knows damn well what he’s doing, he always knows. Always drags goodbyes out on purpose because he can’t fucking stand them.
He thought maybe if he distracted you, you’d forget why he’s here. It would turn into a normal night, and this entire thing could just be categorized as a brief nightmare… A man can dream.
He nods, looks sort of like a scolded child, and it makes your heart crack. Makes you want to cry, coddle him, coo at him, treat him like a damn baby even though he’s a grown-ass man.
“Right, sorry.”
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and sets his piece of pizza down, looking at it as if it kicked his dog. Starts biting at his lip ring.
You hate it when he does that.
Because you fucking love it when he does that.
“Y/N, I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to… give you whatever you need to move one. So please tell me what you need. Just want my girl happy.”
His girl.
Funny, because it seems like a slip-up. It’s not. He knows what he said. He meant it. Doesn’t care if you scold him. Because as long as he’s here before he says bye for good, you are his girl.
You wish he wouldn’t say shit like that right now though. Just makes it so much harder for you. Reminds you that yes, you are his girl. But no, he isn’t your man.
If only you knew that he really is your man. You fucking own his heart, his soul, his body, his damn brain. You live in it rent-free. You consume him. Without you, he wouldn’t even have a flower, wouldn’t even know he’s capable of blooming.
But he knows he can’t give himself to you fully, not as long as he’s married.
Another reminder as to why he’s here.
You sigh, rub your forehead with the back of your hand. Because fuck, you don’t know either. You could ask the curious questions, the more necessary questions, you could pick his brain and pick him apart too, but you don’t want to deal with the heavy shit. Only what is needed.
Because you know that once he walks out that door, you’ll be fucked for a while.
So you grab his hand, the one that’s moved up and started tugging on his lip ring nervously. You intertwine your fingers, and hold on for dear life.
Deep breathes. This is needed.
“Why… why did you do this? Why did you cheat on her to begin with..? Have you done it before or like… fuck. I just wanna understand.”
The moment you ask if he has done it before, he lets out a laugh. An almost pained laugh, because of course you’d think that. Once a cheater, always a cheater. That’s what is often said. And Jungkook totally agrees.
But god, it isn’t like that at all. He is so against cheating. He thinks it is so selfish and so wrong. Yet here he is, in your apartment, while his wife is on a business trip somewhere in Paris.
He’s not a cheater. Doesn’t want to be called that. You just became an exception. What was going to be a mistake turned into the best thing to ever happen to him.
He’s not a cheater, he swears.
He leans back on the couch, jaw ticking as he keeps his eyes on the TV. He’s not watching it, couldn’t even tell you what’s playing, honestly. He just can’t stand to look at you right now. Not when you think he’s some dirty cheater.
He squeezes your hand to ground himself. So soft and small compared to his. Dainty and pretty, he’s always loved your hands. He swears they fit perfectly in his, as cliche as it is, like puzzle pieces.
Two wildly fucked up puzzle pieces that were from two completely different puzzles but somehow managed to fit more perfectly than any of the pieces that were supposed to fit did.
“No… you were my first when it came to cheating. Gonna be my last too. I’m not a cheater.”
What a contradictory thing to say. He knows it, too. He knows how ridiculous he fucking sounds. But he swears he isn’t a cheater. That’s not him. You’re not his mistress…
Just his fucking soulmate. Nothing too heavy. Fuck.
He sighs, scrunches his face a bit before letting his head fall back onto the couch. Still can’t look at you, so he fixes his eyes on the ceiling instead.
“Before we met, me and my wife… our marriage got complicated. I started noticing things I didn’t notice before, and she… changed. Wasn’t acting like the girl I used to love, but like a stranger. It was like as soon as she got comfortable in our marriage, she switched up… became the complete opposite of who I thought she was once we both graduated college.”
He wavers momentarily because he’s terrified you’ll think he’s making excuses. He’s not. He just doesn’t know how to fucking admit this shit. Has never talked about it with anyone. Has never admitted how utterly fucked his marriage is.
He doesn’t want you to see him as less of a man like his wife does. He’s fucking terrified that your last impressions of him will be similar to his wife’s ongoing dislike for him.
“We kept arguing, kept having issues… and she grew distant. I was having some issues, uh… getting it up. And when I tried talking to her about it, she just checked out it seemed. As if my dick malfunctioning made me unloveable or something…”
He scoffs at that, shakes his head. To this day it makes him feel like shit. Makes him feel unworthy of being called a man, her man. Makes him feel gross and broken. As if maybe instead of a flower, he’s a weed. A pesky weed she can’t seem to get rid of.
“There were other things of course, but that’s when she really pulled away. Wouldn’t look at me, or touch me… wouldn’t even give me a fucking hug. So it drove me kind of crazy, made me start doing stupid shit. Was a bad time.”
This is when he finally chooses to look at you. As much as he can’t bear it, he is itching to see if you’re looking at him with disgust yet. Has he become a weed for you, too? Fuck, is that all he ever was for anyone? Was he ever even a flower?
As he looks at you, he doesn’t see disgust. Doesn’t see anything, really. Which is almost worse because that means your walls are up. You’re building a fence as he speaks, as he shares his dirt-covered secrets with you. You’re protecting your wilted flower. He can’t blame you, but god, he fucking hates it.
“So I went to the club that night I met you, didn’t know what I was looking for. Just wanted to get some sort of rush, or attention… honestly was gonna flirt around but I never planned on actually cheating. I just wanted to feel… fuck, wanted, I guess… it was my fucked up way of proving to myself that I wasn’t unloveable. Pathetic, I know.”
He’s right about one thing: you are putting walls up. But not for the reasons he assumes… it’s because it breaks your heart to hear this shit. He keeps his eyes downturned as he speaks, and you see something in them that you’ve never seen before. They aren’t shiny and glittery and full of stars like they are usually; they’re full of shadows. Self-loathing. Resentment. Sadness.
He hates himself, you realize. It’s something you never noticed until now. Because when he’s with you, he doesn’t look like that. His eyes glitter the most. Full of hearts and stars and flowers, like in those cartoons.
It’s because when he’s with you, he doesn’t feel that way. He doesn’t doubt himself. He doesn’t hate himself. He feels full and loved and wanted.
When he’s at home, when he so as much thinks of his wife, he feels the opposite. He feels like fucking dirt. Like weeds.
So easy to forget about when he’s with you.
He debates on how much detail to go into about that night, about why he was so tempted by you. Should he tell you he got butterflies? That you stroked his ego in a way no one else has? That he thought for the first time ever, maybe his wife wasn’t the most pretty girl in the world, maybe it was you?
That he wanted to fuck your brains out but kiss you stupid afterward?
He doesn’t know. He wants to tell you these things because he wants you to know how loved you are. He doesn’t want to end this with you feeling guilty and undeserving because of what you’ve both done. He wants you to know that no matter how misplaced it may seem, you are the most lovable person he has ever met.
So fucking easy to love.
He clears his throat, tries to prevent himself from getting choked up. Squeezes your hand again for comfort, just because he can.
“Obviously I did cheat that night, with you. You were just so… fuck, so pretty. So cute. Was hard not to want you, especially with how you reacted when you noticed me staring… it doesn’t make it right, but I really didn’t plan to pursue you long term. Just wanted one night with you, wanted to feel wanted. Wanted to be touched and loved on so fucking badly, god…”
The glitter in his eyes returns.
“That’s why I didn’t tell you I was married. And I know I was so wrong for that. I should’ve told you, shouldn’t have dragged you into this mess. But I didn’t see the need to because I swear it was only supposed to be for a night, Y/N. I swear. Wasn’t even going to stay after we had sex. Was gonna go back to my wife and beg for forgiveness…”
The glitter turns into stars.
“But the way you touched me… the way you looked at me… the way you talked my damn ear off when we were done… I was so fucked for you. Probably sounds crazy, but it was bad enough that the sex was so good, that you were so damn beautiful it physically hurt me… what made me act stupid and ask for your number and stay the night was how sweet you were. How you really did make me feel wanted, you spoke to me like I was precious or some shit and all I did was fuck you.”
Because he is precious. If you grab a dictionary right now and look up the word precious, you are absolutely certain Jeon Jungkook will be the definition.
So fucking precious.
No longer stars, but hearts and moons and planets fill his eyes. The warm lights in your apartment reflect beautifully, making it so prominent, making the things you refuse to acknowledge too obvious.
He’s looking at you now. So adoringly. So hopelessly. And you see it again; you see exactly what you have refused to acknowledge every time he looks at you: he is so fucking in love with you, maybe even more than you are him.
Clear as day. Something you can’t possibly ignore or even deny in this moment. A Bearded Iris at full bloom, gifted with strength, love, care, hope, and admiration dedicated to you. The tips of his petals are adorned in a rich lavender color, and he swears that the color was stolen directly from your Aster. Speckles of you all over the Iris.
All because of you. Always you. Only you.
Much like your Aster, the flower rumored to have grown to resemble stars when there simply weren’t enough in the sky, his eyes glittered with those little stars, also only ever because of you.
His flower. His star. His love. His fucking soul. That’s what you are; that’s what you have been. Mistress by technicality, but god, you were never that to him.
You were everything. You are everything.
Seeing it, really seeing it, it changes everything for you.
But it still isn’t enough of an excuse to let this go on.
“So in short my marriage is fucked. Has been fucked for a while, way before you. I didn’t go out that night with the intent to cheat, but I did, because I’m a selfish bastard. And I kept it going with you because I’m a selfish bastard. Im so fucking selfish for you, Y/N. There is no excuse. But I don’t regret it. Don’t care if I go to hell, or if karma bites me in the ass someday. I would do it over and over and over again because I grew to love you more than I’ve ever loved anything in my entire life, including my wife.”
And he did. He means that with his entire being. He grew to love you quickly, he grew because he loved you, he grew because you loved him.
You say nothing at first because it’s a lot to take in. He was honest, didn’t sugarcoat anything, and admitted to being selfish. Both of you are so selfish for each other, yet selfless when with each other. It’s all so fucked.
He’s being vulnerable, and you know that he is. He’s looking at you now, biting at his lip ring again. He’s terrified that you won’t like what he said, what he admitted. He’s overthinking heavily because if this is your last night together, he doesn’t want to leave with you thinking he’s an awful man. He’s not. He swears he’s not. He doesn’t want you to see him through the same glasses his wife does.
He swears to god that he will get on his knees again and beg for your forgiveness. He’s not above blubbering and begging again until you forgive him one last time.
But you don’t think any of that. God, you could never. You’re silent because you see him. You really see him. You see all of the things that you were in denial about before. The love, the trust, the adoration, the soul-crushing dedication that he has for you. You aren’t wearing any glasses… Not the rose-colored glasses you had on at first, not the smudged dirty glasses his wife wears, not the funhouse glasses that he wears when looking in a mirror, nothing. You just see him. Eyes clear, and nothing obstructing your vision.
Even with all of that, he’s still a coward. He’s still choosing to end this rather than leave his wife, who you hate even more now knowing what you know. But unlike before, you understand. You may not understand fully, but you don’t fault him.
This wasn’t him being selfish because lust was clouding his judgment. This was him being selfish because he truly did love you. Love makes people selfish. You’d be a hypocrite to fault him for that when your love for him has made you oh so selfish too.
And while all of this has given you the ability to breathe, given you some sort of closure you didn’t really realize you needed… it’s not enough to keep this going.
It can’t go on.
You could keep prying. You could ask more questions. You could dig through his dirt and find unnecessary answers about his wife. Feed your growing curiosity.
Or this can be enough. This can be the closure and the answers you need to move on… and maybe you can enjoy this last night together.
Just one more night.
Instead of feeding your growing curiosity, you can feed each others flower with your shared soil before you’re both uprooted and taken far away from each other.
“Y/N, please say something, I feel like I’m about to puke.”
You blink up at him, realize it’s been a few minutes since he last said anything. You were silent for an awkward amount of time, and his mind is reeling, full of anxiety because he has no fucking clue what you could possibly be thinking.
You give him a small smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, squeeze his hand again before speaking.
“Sorry, I was just… thinking. Zoned out.”
He bites his lip ring hard because, again, he has no idea what you’re thinking. Are you disgusted? Do you think he’s less of a man? Do you hate him now? Is his flower no longer as beautiful as you once thought now that you see all the creepy crawlers underneath his soil?
“Thinking about what?”
He tries not to sound too eager to know, even though he’s very fucking eager. He feels like his entire body is itching because of the anticipation; the not knowing kills him, too. Usually, he’s so good at reading you, your facial expressions, your eyes in particular, he swears he can read you by those alone. But he has no idea what is going through your head right now.
In reality, he’s just overthinking. He feels guilty. Guilty for how things have turned out and guilty for hurting you. The guilt makes the cogs in his brain move way too fast and causes him to be unable to process the shit he usually could.
You know this; you can easily tell by how he’s playing with the hem of his shirt and biting his lip. Also, the fact that he refused to look at you before but now literally will barely blink because his eyes are so intently on you, cataloging every tiny expression you make.
You hate how unsure he is now that he spoke the truth, as if all of this causes your love for him to wither away. It doesn’t. Not at all.
“Thinking about how that’s all I need regarding closure… would rather not talk about it anymore. Would rather just enjoy our last night as lovers together… if you want, of course.”
Now he’s the silent one… because, fuck, really? That’s it? You aren’t going to go in on him for being a scumbag cheater? You aren’t going to ask a billion questions about his wife? You aren’t going to take your weed-eater and cut him out like the weed that he suddenly is?
That’s it?
He stares at you, blinking a few times, as if maybe the more he blinks, the less delusional he’ll be. But your face says the exact same thing his did. You love him. You love him so goddamn much. He isn’t a weed; when he looks into your eyes at this very moment, he sees his reflection… and it’s the Bearded Iris. It’s him.
He’s your flower, just as you are his. You don’t hate him, you don’t even resent him… you just love him for what he is.
This makes it so bittersweet for him because for the first time in a while, he doesn’t feel totally worthless or unloveable. If you can love him, if you can see him at full bloom, then surely he isn’t broken and unworthy of love. It’s so sweet.
Bitter because he can also see the finality in your eyes. The love never disappears, but the goodbyes are silently written in your eyes. You’re stern in your decision. Jungkook is good at being delusional sometimes, but in cases like this, it’s impossible…
He knows it has to end. If you want it to end, he won’t fight. He doesn’t want to make you wilt anymore than he already has.
He just wants you to bloom. Even if it isn’t for him, he just wants you to heal, grow, and bloom all over again.
You can’t do that when he is weighing you down, tugging on your roots beneath the soil.
So he nods. Rubs at his eyes for a moment because he feels like he could cry, but he doesn’t want to cry. Doesn’t want your last night together to be full of sadness, just wants to savor it.
Feels like the last day on earth, almost. A similar feeling you get when watching those zombie apocalypse movies, and you see people and their loved ones spend their final days together before turning into zombies.
Maybe a bit dramatic, but there’s some truth to that… he knows once he loses you, he will become a zombie.
He brings your hand that’s still in his to his lips, and he places the softest kiss there while looking at you through his lashes.
“I’d like that. So much.”
You give him another sad smile. You feel the same, as if this is the end of the fucking world and this is your last night together.
You almost wish it was because then you could die together. You wouldn’t have to live with grieving each other when you’re both very much alive.
You wouldn’t have to watch his flower be torn out of the ground and carried away. You wouldn’t have to wilt anymore.
Dramatic. So fucking dramatic. But god, love feels dramatic. Especially love like this.
Next Chapter Here
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muses-of-the-mind · 7 months
Text
Possessive
Hero’s breath came in little gasps, head bowed as they staggered against the binds. Their fluttering eyes flit across the room, scanning for any cracks in the wall or pieces of furniture that they could make use of in their state. Their brow trickled with sweat at the realisation that there would be no way out this time.
“Who was that, by the way?”
The soft voice broke Hero’s frantic train of thought and they lifted their head to look at the blurry figure.
Villain leaned against a broken table, their stoic gaze focused on the twirling dagger in their hands. “The villain you were fighting with on TV recently. The one that made you go famous.”
Hero paused, nausea churning in their gut. “…Other Villain? They’re a criminal I caught.”
The dagger came to a stop. Villain’s gaze caught theirs, a hardness growing in their eyes. “I’m aware of that. Why did you catch them?”
“Because it’s my job?”
“So they don’t mean anything to you?”
“Villain, what?” Hero’s knees trembled, close to collapsing and Villain’s cryptic questions did nothing to help their vertigo.
“Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about.” Villain snapped, striding towards them. A quiet rage purposed their steps and they leaned down close enough to cast a shadow across Hero’s face.
“First you show up late to my robberies and now you’re out here fighting other villains?! Does the word arch nemesis mean nothing to you? I swear, ever since you’ve gotten famous, you won’t even respond to my threats anymore.”
Hero’s head spun, though now they were thinking it was more due to Villain’s idiocy rather than the drug. “I’m-I’m sorry?”
“You should be.” Villain crossed their arms, a dark look passing over their face that vaguely reminded Hero of a petulant child.
A few moments passed.
“Is that why you kidnapped me?”
“Maybe. I mean, you have to admit it hurts when you think you’re devoted enemies to one another and then they philander with someone behind your back.”
Hero exhaled, shutting their eyes with exasperation. “If I promise not to fight any other villain except you, will you let me go?”
Villain’s eyebrows furrowed as they considered it, lips turning into a soft frown. “Sure. But if you ever break our promi—“
“Yeah yeah, I get it. Now, please, give me the antidote before I regret my decision.”
Villain returned to their usual state of joviality at Hero’s acceptance, “Oh, there is no antidote! It wears off after a couple hours so have a good nap.”
Hero didn’t even have time to curse at them before their knees hit the ground, body wracking in one final spasm before becoming limp.
Villain turned around, humming under their breath as they went to investigate about the criminal.
Of course, just because they had let Hero go with little repercussions didn’t mean they had any intention of giving Hero’s beloved criminal the same treatment. They had a little treat in store for whoever messed with their dear nemesis.
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avatar-anna · 1 year
Note
I swear I could read prof y/n content all day longgg!
Could we get an angst moment? Love a bit of drama hahahaha 🤪😂
prof and h angstttt plsssss
enjoy! xx
The Professor Series
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Harry knew Y/n. He knew her favorite authors and composers; he knew her favorite constellations, how she liked to sleep curled up into a ball when she had stomach cramps, and how she took her tea; he knew she wore mismatched socks, that her Southern accent returned when she was tired or tipsy, and that she had a little freckle on her hip; he knew she worked really hard but wanted to try to take herself less seriously sometimes; he knew the things that made her laugh and what she got excited about; he knew what places to kiss to make her blush and that she appreciated when he listened to her lectures before she gave them, even if he didn't quite understand.
It was safe to say Harry knew his love, inside and out.
But the person he was faced with now he almost didn't recognize.
It wasn't uncommon for Y/n to be asked to consult on particularly difficult cases that local police departments were struggling with. Y/n often looked over the case files and any other bits of information as it came in, gave her profile, and that was that. Each case lasted about a week, maybe more, but they always had successful outcomes.
Harry had been away on tour while Y/n was teaching in Cambridge. They missed each other obviously, but Harry started to worry when he didn't hear from her for almost two weeks. A few days wasn't out of the ordinary, mostly because Y/n forgot to respond to texts or answer a phone call, but she usually got back to him within a day or two; if she was working on a particularly difficult case, maybe more.
But this was a whole two weeks. They’d never gone that long without talking to each other. There had been no fights or disagreements that would warrant a silent treatment from Y/n, so it couldn’t have been on purpose. But Harry couldn’t come up with a reason that was good enough for Y/n to not speak to him.
So, despite the pushback from his management team, Harry rescheduled a couple shows so he could fly home and see what was going on. They didn't want him to leave, but Harry couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Harry arrived at Y/n’s townhouse late at night. The door was unlocked, which was almost as unusual as the mess he found in the front room when he came inside.
He'd never seen Y/n's home in such disarray before. Books were scattered everywhere, takeaway cartons and half finished mugs of tea and coffee littered every surface in her kitchen and living room, and all the curtains were drawn closed, casting the whole space in a stuffy gloom. Harry almost couldn't believe his eyes. Y/n scolded him when he didn't use a coaster, and now there was week-old food sitting on her coffee table.
Y/n was nowhere to be found, though, which meant she was in her bedroom. Harry worried about what he would find on the other side, but whatever was going on with her, she needed him.
She was sitting at her desk, her back to him as she bent over it and read something. She didn't even flinch or turn around when the door opened, like she hadn’t even heard Harry come in.
“Y/n, darling,” he said.
She turned, tired and unfocused eyes landing on Harry without much emotion. “Oh. You’re here. Did you call?”
Harry had never seen her so out of it before. He suddenly realized that Y/n wouldn’t have known what day it was let alone the last time they’d spoken. He felt completely out of his depth, but he tried his best to tread lightly.
“No. No, I wanted to surprise you. How—How are you?”
“Busy,” Y/n said immediately. “I have this really difficult case, so I can’t talk right now.”
He guessed as much, but even difficult cases Y/n had worked on in the past never reduced her to this. Her hair was a tangled mess at the nape of her neck, she only had one sock on, and he was pretty sure she hadn’t changed her clothes in days. Harry was suddenly glad he listened to his instincts and came here.
“I know it's important, love, but so is taking care of yourself,” he said. “Why don’t you take a break and clear your head? We can eat and watch a documentary or something.”
Harry rested his hand on her arm, but he quickly realized that was the wrong move. Y/n wrenched her arm away from him, her eyes lit with irritation.
“Take a break? I can’t take a break! There is no time for breaks,” she yelled. Harry was immediately stunned. Y/n had never raised her voice at him, or anyone else for that matter. “Young women, someone's wife or daughter or sister is dying, and they will continue to die if I can't figure this out, don't you understand that?”
“I know, that, Y/n. Of course I understand, but you’ll have a clearer head if you—”
“Don't baby me! I didn't ask you to be here, so just leave me alone. I need to work, I need to figure this out, I need...”
She ignored him after that, and Harry could tell that he'd been dismissed. He also knew there was no use reasoning with Y/n when she was this upset, so he left her to her own devices and left her alone like she'd asked.
Going back into the living room, Harry began to clean. He picked up and straightened stray books, folded blankets, threw out old food. He found comfort in doing something rather than just twiddling his thumbs while he thought of some way to reach Y/n like this.
Because the truth was as well as he knew her, he'd never seen her like this before, and he didn't know how to be there for her, or how to bring her out of this darkness she seemed to be in. He knew how much these cases meant to her, how much she valued helping people, but this was different. It seemed almost personal.
By the time Harry had swept the floors and washed all the dishes and fed the Emperor and Faye Winter, who had been lounging on their cat tree—they at least seemed unaffected by Y/n’s unusual behavior—Y/n still had yet to come out of her room. Harry knew then that she wouldn't be coming out at all, and that he should probably get comfortable on the couch.
All night he worried about her. Every couple hours or so, Harry would hear Y/n pacing her room or cursing quietly or throwing what sounded like sheets of paper around after crumpling them up. She was frustrated, that much was clear, but all Harry could do was lay on the couch and listen. In the morning, Harry decided to keep giving Y/n space and went about his day like he normally would when he stayed at the townhouse. He sat and read some emails while the cats cuddled him on either side, he went into town to restock Y/n’s fridge, and he kept cleaning up.
And nothing. Y/n didn’t make an appearance the whole day. Not to eat or acknowledge that he was there or say hello to the Emperor and Faye Winter. Harry could hear her shuffling around in her bedroom like she'd done all night, but she never came out. By the time the sun was going down, he started to worry more than he already had been.
The problem was he didn't know what to do. Harry had never dealt with anything like this before. He thought he had a grasp on reaching Y/n and understanding what she needed and how, but she shut him out so fast and lashed out so intensely. This obviously wasn't a typical case, something must've happened to make her react this way, but Y/n wasn't going to tell him anytime soon.
And there was no one who could give Harry insight either. For all intents and purposes, he was Y/n's family. She didn't have relatives she spoke to regularly, not many close friends, no one who might have ever seen her act like this way before. And her mother certainly wasn't an option; Harry didn't want to give her the satisfaction of having to call her at all, and he didn't think she would know anything about this anyway.
All night Harry stayed up brainstorming. He wracked his brain for someone who might know Y/n and how to help. And when he did, he went to work on tracking them down. Harry had decided on contacting one of her old professors after recalling Y/n speaking fondly of one a couple times. It took time figuring out where he was and how to get a hold of him, but he eventually did. Harry called every ten minutes and left message after message with some secretary until he eventually got through.
“This is Dr. Moore.”
He sounded old, but Harry didn’t take the time to wonder what this person looked like. “Hello. My name is Harry, and I believe you know a close friend of mine. Y/n L/n.”
“Ah yes,” Dr. Moore said. “I haven’t heard from Y/n since she only had one PhD. How is she?”
“N—Not great,” Harry said. He proceeded to word-vomit the whole situation, his stress and anxiety about his love's well-being pouring out of him over the phone. “I—I've never seen her like this before and I'm not really sure what to do. She won't talk to me or leave her room. I was just hoping you might know something or had seen her...behave like this before.”
The professor didn't say anything for a while, hopefully gathering his thoughts. “She's rather well-adjusted for someone who has seen and experienced so much,” he finally said. “But you have to understand that she's...different from the rest of us. She has a gift that no one else has or can really make sense of.”
“She’s more than her intelligence, Doctor—”
“I don’t mean it like that, Harry,” Dr. Moore said softly. “She's a genius, she's brilliant, but that doesn't come without its faults. Many brilliant minds suffer from a little madness, Y/n is no different.”
It was like Harry could hear what Dr. Moore was saying, but he didn't want to believe him. “Y/n isn't crazy.”
“I didn’t say she was. But she has a tendency to be obsessive, loses track of time, hyperfocuses on a singular subject. Surely you've noticed that.”
“Yeah, but...It’s never been this bad, I mean, this is extreme.”
Harry didn't like the professor's insinuations, or how helpless he was making him feel. Harry knew Y/n, he knew her. She wasn't mad, she wasn't sick, she just needed a little help.
“I realized quite early on that Y/n never took failure...lightly. For someone like her, being wrong is a tough pill to swallow. Perhaps start there?”
“Right, thanks,” Harry muttered. This phone call was a bust. All it gave him was more stress.
He was about to hang up the phone when Dr. Moore spoke again. “Harry, Y/n is exceptional, and that doesn't come without its own bevy of...adversities. But Y/n is strong, and she has a good head on her shoulders, even after everything she's been through. I imagine just showing that you're there for her will be enough. Don't crowd her, but be close enough to catch her when she falls, as you've already done. Her family was never patient enough to love her the way she needed, I hope you can be that for her.”
Harry hung up after that, not having anything to say to the professor. A glance at his phone told him it was three in the morning, but he got up from the couch and chanced going into Y/n's room anyway.
She was pacing and muttering to herself incoherently, but Harry didn't let that bother him. Y/n noticed him but said nothing, and neither did he. He just got into bed, picked up a book off her nightstand, and began to read.
Y/n was quiet for a moment, and Harry could feel her gaze on him, but he kept quiet, and she eventually went back to pacing. It wasn't easy, but Harry did his best to just ignore her, have his presence known without talking to her directly like Dr. Moore suggested. He hoped that Y/n would come to him in her own time.
His eyes burned, begging him to finally go to sleep, the words on the book in front of him blurred. He was exhausted, but he was determined not to lie down. Not until Y/n was in bed next to him.
“You know, sometimes I find it helpful if I talk about things out loud.”
An invitation to open up, a small one after about an hour of silence. He didn't really expect Y/n to take the bait, but she did, kind of.
“What do you mean?”
Setting his book down, he said, “Well, all your thoughts are swirling around in your head. It might be helpful to just say them out loud, like bouncing a ball against a wall.”
“O—Okay.”
She began to explain in loose terms what she was working on and what her thoughts were about the case. And once she started, it all came pouring out of her. “I—I failed. I gave a profile, they arrested someone, but it was the wrong person. I’m—I’m never wrong.”
“It’s not your job to make the arrests,” Harry said gently.
“People are relying on me! Women are continuing to die at the hands of some monster because I can’t—because I couldn’t—”
Y/n shook her head and went back to her desk, shuffling pages around. Harry sighed. He knew what the problem was, but now he knew for certain that Y/n wasn't going to rest until she fixed her mistake. He didn’t bother trying to convince her that this wasn’t her fault, that would be useless right now. But he had to do something.
Getting up from the bed, Harry trudged over to the desk. He rested his hands on either side of her and rested his cheek on top of her head. “Are you so sure that you were wrong and the police weren’t?” he asked.
“They would’ve found the right person if I was right. I must’ve missed something,” she said, shaking her head.
“More than one person can fit a profile, can’t they?”
Y/n exhaled harshly through her nose. “That’s what I tried to tell local police, but they wouldn’t listen. I’m—I’m missing something.”
Harry kissed the top of her head and began to knead the tension out of her shoulders. “Did you think you were right before?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Give me a percentage.”
“Ninety four.”
Whistling, he said, “I’d take those odds.”
“These are people’s lives, Harry, not a craps table. Lives are being lost because—”
“Because terrible people exist,” Harry interrupted. “You didn’t kill those people, Y/n.”
She wiped at her eye harshly. “I can’t help but feel responsible,” she sniffled.
“I know,” he said. “But I believe in you. I believe you can figure this out. But not by running yourself ragged. You can’t work like this.”
“I can’t sleep,” she said, voice trembling. “I won’t. Not until—”
“Okay,” Harry said.
Harry made himself comfortable on the floor beside Y/n’s desk. He was exhausted, his back hurt from his night on the couch, but he couldn’t go to sleep. Not until she did.
“What are you doing?” Y/n asked him, brows furrowed curiously.
He tilted his head back and gave her a sleepy smile. “You stay up, I stay up.”
Y/n looked like she wanted to say more, but her focus was quickly pulled back to the papers on her desk.
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Harry didn’t remember falling sleep, but one minute he was watching Y/n work at her desk and providing noncommittal hums as she bounced ideas off him, and the next he was blinking his eyes open, his body stretched out on the floor. There was a pillow under his head and a blanket strewn across his body, an extra pillow beside him. Y/n was sitting in front of him with her legs crossed, a mug in her hands as she watched Harry sleep.
“Wha—What happened—”
“You fell asleep around 5:15,” she said, taking a sip while Harry sat up. His back popped and strained, clearly not a fan of another sleep on something that wasn’t a bed. “I would’ve carried you to the bed, but you’re a bit heavy for me.”
As his head cleared, Harry noticed that Y/n’s hair was wet and her eyes were clearer. She was in a fresh set of clothes and her desk seemed relatively put together.
“Did you figure it out?” he asked, his voice still scratchy with sleep.
Y/n nodded. “A little while after you fell asleep. I got an email about an hour ago. They arrested the right person.”
“That’s good,” Harry said, squeezing her knee. “That’s good, right?”
“Yeah, I just, um, I just got a different email. From an old professor.”
“Oh.” Well, that didn’t take long. “What did he say?”
“That he had the most interesting conversation with a close friend of mine,” Y/n said. Setting her mug down, she tugged her knees to her chest. “I know what you’re thinking.”
Harry could barely focus on anything but his stiff neck, but he tried to shake his head. “I’m almost positive you don’t.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me,” she said. “I—I don’t need to be fixed.”
“That—That’s not what I’m thinking,” Harry said frowning. “I don’t think that at all, Y/n.”
“Then why did you call him?”
Harry rubbed at his face tiredly. “I wanted to help you. I didn’t know how, so I asked for some help of my own.”
“I don’t need to be handled like some child.”
“Two weeks, Y/n,” Harry said, voice sharpening the slightest bit. Because for a moment, Y/n had frightened him. Not because he thought she was crazy or mentally unwell, but because he didn’t know how to reach her, and he always knew how to get through to her. “I didn’t hear from you for two weeks, and I come back here and the house is a mess, you’re not eating, you’re driving yourself—”
“Don’t say it!” she blurted. “Don’t say that I’m crazy, Harry. I’m not. I just...get a little sidetracked. I’m not—I’m not crazy.”
Harry could see it in Y/n’s face, then. The fear. She didn’t want him believing what she already believed about herself to some degree. He wondered how many times someone had told her that she was, or implied it. Harry had a feeling no one had ever taught her how to fail, or accept failure. Y/n was exceptional, but she wasn’t perfect, no one was, but she’d been brought up believing her knowledge had no bounds. She was taught how to fly, but no one taught her how to fall, and when she did, they blamed her for not figuring it out herself.
“I don’t think you’re crazy, because you’re not,” he said. “But I do worry when I you don’t come out of your room for a few days. I’m allowed to worry.”
Y/n had been looking down at her lap, but when she finally looked at him, there were tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Harry let the corner of his mouth curve into a smile. “For making me sleep on the couch yesterday? Water under the bridge.”
Y/n’s responding grin was small, but it was there, and Harry found himself wanting to make it bigger.
Joining him on the floor, they both laid back down. Y/n rested her head on Harry’s chest while he wrapped his arms around her. For a few minutes, they didn’t say anything, but before he fell back asleep, he found himself saying, “You know, I know I’m not as smart as you or anything, but I do know a thing or two about work ethic. I can help you find a balance.”
Y/n gave no indication that she agreed or disagreed. For a moment, Harry thought she’d already fallen asleep when he felt her nod. “I’d like that. But I think...I think I need to take some time off. Maybe just focus on teaching for now.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I want to,” Y/n yawned. “I want to scale back. Just teach, travel, maybe get a Master’s degree.”
Harry laughed. Only Y/n would think going back to school for another degree would be considered “scaling back.” But he couldn’t be prouder that she was taking the right steps to treat herself better.
“I think that’s a good idea,” he said. He kissed the top of her head as he waited for her to respond, but she didn’t. Y/n kept quiet, her breaths keeping time with his until he realized she was asleep. Breathing a sigh through his nose, Harry stared up at the ceiling and hoped she had a dreamless sleep.
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drabblesandimagines · 16 days
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Portrait
Joshua Rosfield x (painter) female reader Commissioned piece, 4,600 words (minor end game spoilers) Thank you so much for the commissioner for commissioning me in the first place and for letting me share here with you all! x
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“No, no, no.” You’d swear the woman before you should be stomping her foot along to her words, her mannerisms being similar to those of a petulant child not getting their way.
The Empress of Sanbreque is usually a picture of decorum – carefully composed expression, hands clasped, never a hair out of place nor a wrinkle in her gown – but her façade appears to have cracked for she is scowling at you with clenched fists by her side. “Did you not understand my directions?”
You open your mouth, and quickly shut it again. Your mind is blank on an answer, probably looking foolish as you do so. You look at the portrait you’d unveiled moments ago for her private viewing, trying to see what she’s taken umbrage with, though you’re sure you followed her instructions to the letter.
“Your Grace, I-”
She raises her hand, stopping you before you can even begin a defense.
“It is quite clear that you did not.” Olivier, her three-year-old son and the subject of the portrait, sits at her feet, disturbingly well-behaved for his age, even for one of noble blood and upbringing. His eyes almost seemed lifeless at times – unnervingly so – with a cruel smile that was beyond his years. You’d tried to soften it out, is that what had upset her so?
“His Grace has been most pleased with my previous works.” You’d been brought in under the Empreror’s service first – endless commissions of he and the crown prince to celebrate every momentous occasion over the last few years.   
“His Grace has, yes, but only of Prince Dion.” The way she pronounces Bahamut’s name is as if it leaves a foul taste on her tongue. “But these won’t do at all for my darling Olivier.” She pinches the bridge of her nose in exasperation as she casts her eyes over your work once more. You swallow your pride. After all, it is far better to keep in the Empress’ good books than make an enemy of. “I will start anew-” “No – I’ve seen enough. You are dismissed, without pay. Come, Olivier.”
He grabs her hand obediently, but not without throwing you one last cruel smile.
--
Although you knew it would be difficult to remain in the city, you hadn’t expected a group of soldiers to appear at your door that very evening – armed with swords and spears, one holding a scroll of decree and beginning to read to you the moment after your name was confirmed.
“By decree of Empress Anabella Lesage, you are hereby commanded to leave Orinflamme at once.”
“Leave?” You’d planned to move – you knew her handmaidens would make quick work of spreading the gossip of your dismissal, whispering in certain noble ears to make sure the word spread far and wide – but to be banished altogether?
“Leave.” The captain of the guard confirmed, no sign of emotion on his face. “Refusal to comply will be seen as treason, of which the punishment is execution. You are to be gone by sunrise.”
You look around your small abode, trying to work out what you could possibly pack up and take in such a small timeframe – could you scrape enough gil together to rent a chocobo for the travel?
“Furthermore, all of your possessions are now the property of Empire. You may, however, retain the clothes upon your person.” The way in which he says it makes you think that he believes that is being far too generous.
“Excuse me,” a familiar voice calls and the crowd of guards splits. Prince Dion Lesage, regaled in the armour of the Dragoons and spear at his side, walks forward with purpose.
“My prince, there is no need to trouble yourself with such matters as these.”
“The Emperor himself requested my presence to make sure the Empress’ wishes are fulfilled. If you will excuse us, I assure you I have it handled from here and you may return to your other duties.” He casts a scathing eye over the seven men. “I doubt this task required this many of you either.”
“Yes, my prince.” The captain replies, tersely, with only a slight bow of his head, but none of the men make to move quite yet.
Dion’s hand tightens around the hilt of his spear and you are rendered speechless as he grabs you by the crook of your elbow and pulls you forward, out of your home – not even a chance to glance around and bid it goodbye - past the assembled guards and starts to lead you towards the city gates in long strides.
“I am sorry, my lady,” Dion says, softly, trying to avoid prying ears. You have always been fond of the crown prince – he had always treated you kindly in your interactions during portrait sitting sessions over the last few years. “I tried to speak to the Emperor to overturn the Empress’ command as soon as word reached me, but he would not be swayed.”
Your eyes widen at the idea. “Prince Dion, you shouldn’t have. That is far more kindness than I deserve.”
“Nonsense,” he chides. “I just wish I could do more. I saw the portrait before the Empress commanded it destroyed. I cannot think what has offended her so – it was the spitting image of Olivier.” He drops your elbow at last and retrieves a pouch off his belt, holding it out to you. “It isn’t much – shamefully, I am not adept of carrying gil around on my person – but hopefully it will be enough to see you through your travel.”
“No, your highness,” you shake your head. “I couldn’t possibly accept.”
“You must,” he presses the pouch firmly in your hand. “Do not make me order it so. It will be a long journey ahead - my concern is Northflame is too close to be out of the Empress’ influence.”
“I’ll head to Port Isodole – enough nobles reside there for me to gain employment once more, I’m sure of it.”
--
It was tricky upon your arrival to Port Isodole. You wanted to remain positive that you’d be commissioned on reputation alone by some of the Imperial nobles who resided there. Unfortunately, it soon became clear that the word had already wormed its way into eager ears, and those who sought the Empress Anabella’s favour wouldn’t dare to associate with someone she’d dismissed so blatantly and banished from the city itself.
You’d made do with work as a barmaid, part of your wages taking up with your food and board. Slowly, you’d built up your art supplies over the years and remained positive. Afterall, you could have had much worse luck in life than what you’d faced.
Finally, you decided to take a few of landscape pieces to market, hoping that surely enough time had passed - the Mothercrystal had been felled, Orinflamme abandoned in consequence, so why would the people of Port Isodole still hold such regard for the word of an Empress now stationed so far away?
“My dear, these are truly wonderful.” His voice is boomingly loud, surely drawing the attention of everyone in the vicinity. A tall, stocky, bearded man, dressed in finery looked in awe at your display and you so hoped pockets heavy with gil might be in store. “I feel as if I’m actually there, casting my eyes across the horizon once more.”
“Thank you, sir. Is there anything you’re looking for in particular?” “Mayhaps - do you dabble in portraiture?” “I do… or I did. It’s been a little while.”
“And who is your patron?”
“My… patron?” You hesitate, wary now that this is where Anabella’s tarnishing of your name would lead to your undoing.
“With a talent such as this, you must have one.”
“Well, I-“
“Lord Byron”, a man interrupts, looking scornfully at you and keeping his distance. A beautiful woman is hanging off his arm and looking mortified by the whole thing. “I’d be wary of her. Empress Anabella dismissed her from her services.”
“Oh… Oh, my.” He sets his face in a solemn expression and your heart sinks. “Thank you, my good man.” Byron nods his head, giving the man a hearty pat on the back and begins to walk away with the couple. You feel as if you may cry. Maybe coming here was a mistake, but it was as far as you could’ve gone with the gil Dion had kindly given you. Is Anabella’s scorn going to follow you round forever?
You try and steel your resolve for other potential customers – who would want to purchase anything from a tearful merchant? - though many pass without giving your wares so much as a second glance. A cloaked man strides past, hand scuffing your table as he does. At first you think he meant to swipe something from it, but there is only an addition in the form of a letter.
You lean over the table and pick it up, breaking the wax seal.
My sincerest apologies for how we parted. If you would be so kind, please attend the manor this evening and dine with me. I wish to discuss your talent further and, if I may, commission you, the Empress Anabella be damned. – Lord Byron Rosfield.
--
Lord Byron had heard tale of your portraits, it had turned out, but he still wished to see your work first hand before he would tell you what he truly wanted. A workroom was set up for your disposal, a plethora of supplies that made your eyes water at the potential cost, but he had waved it off, declaring himself a lover of the arts. He’d marveled at your portrait of him and bid you come the next day to see the project in full he wished to discuss. As you entered the workroom, the large table had been covered in rolls of what you thought were parchment, but instead turned out to be precious segments of his dear brother’s portrait – the former Archduke of Rosaria, Elwin.
“I fear it is far beyond repair – I was lucky to salvage enough as I did - but I wondered if you would be up for the challenge of a recreation.”
“I can certainly try. There’s definitely enough of his face to base from. And I have your likeness, my lord, to assist.”
--
“Oh, Uncle,” Clive has tears in his eyes as he beholds the new addition to Byron’s parlor. “It is just as I remembered – he is just as I remembered. How did you even get hold of this? I thought everything destroyed after the siege.”
“The original was beyond saving, torn and burnt in places, yes. This, my dear boy, I had it commissioned, using parts of the original as a guide. You see, I have taken into my patronage a very talented artist – allow me to fetch her.”
Joshua’s breath had been stolen when he saw the painting of his father. He could swear if he stared long enough, the eyes would blink in return, that he would see his father’s chest rise with breath once more. He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d be proud of the man he’d grown to be, if he had done the Phoenix proud before the Eikons were stripped from the world.
A warm palm rests on his shoulder. “It is like he is the room once more, isn’t it?”
“Indeed, brother. Quite remarkable. I… I worried I had forgotten his face, after all this time, but this…”
Clive squeezes his shoulder then, no more words needed.
The silence is soon interrupted by the heavy footsteps of their uncle as the door is thrown open.
“Lord Bryon,” you protest, trying to step back but his hand on your back remains firm, “My apologies, but I really am in no state to-”
“Nonsense, my girl!” It is too late for you are pushed in front of two of the most handsome men you think you have seen.
You curtsy, clumsily, and Joshua can’t help but grin. He said you were to meet his nephews and, as he was a lord, they deserved the same respect, however Bryon hadn’t even given you chance to wash your hands, nor check your face in the mirror for errant paint streaks before he’d ushered you to the parlor.
“My dearest nephews, allow me to introduce the talented painter behind this masterpiece.”  
Your cheeks feel hot, a little flustered in the way which Byron had pulled you in front of his nephews with no preparation. Joshua thanks the Founder that he was stood where he was, meaning that he gets to make your acquaintance first. Byron introduces you by name and turns to the blonde first, beaming.
“This is my youngest nephew – Joshua.” You offer out your hand but also curtsy again, forgetting yourself in the fluster. The Empress Anabella would not have stood for it. Before you can retreat your hand with an apology, Joshua takes it in his hand and drops to his knee, pressing a kiss across the back of it.
“It is a pleasure to meet the talented woman behind the masterpiece.”
“Oh,” your eyes light up and Joshua delights in it, already thinking of how he can achieve the same rush. “Thank you – that’s very kind. I admired Archduke Elwin very much – it was an honour to pay tribute to his memory.” Joshua slowly gets to his feet and relinquishes your hand.
“I… I served under your mother – the Empress Anabella - for a time.”
“Yes, before she was exiled for a portrait of Oliver Lesage not meeting her standards.”
“Ah. I pray you do not hold that against us.” Clive interrupts.
“Of course she doesn’t, my boy!” Byron booms once more. “This is my eldest nephew, Clive. Quite the rogue.”
“Uncle,” Clive gently admonishes. “I cannot see why our mother would be displeased with your work. This is… I feel like I can reach out and touch him. You’ve captured him remarkably well.”
You duck your head down in embarrassment, not used to receiving such amounts of praise. The Emperor would nod his approval, make no comment on style or substance, so to have the three sing your praises is a little overwhelming.
“Thank you.” You nod at Clive, a small smile across your lips and Joshua feels a twang in his chest at the sight of it – odd.
“And now this one is complete, I dare say we mu-“
The parlor door is swung open with a bang. Gav stands there, panting, hands on his knees to try and catch his breath. “Sorry, like, but we gotta scram. Imperial soldiers heading this way – caught wind of Cid the Outlaw sniffing about.”
Joshua did not see you for another year.
Regrettably, other matters had taken precedence. Ultima at first, a period of recovery for both him and Clive – Dion lost in the fight, and then focus had turned to helping nations adapt to a crystal-free life and the rebuilding of Grand Duchy of Rosaria. Parts of the castle were still under construction, but the capital itself had been rebuilt and ready to usher in the new Archduke.
“Your grace,” a servant called, diverting his attention from the latest pile of missives left at his desk, “Lord Byron Rosfield has arrived.”
“Uncle!” Joshua beamed, descending the stairs from the castle into the courtyard where Byron was emerging from a carriage. “We were not expecting you quite yet.”
“My dear boy,” he pulled his nephew into a firm hug. “I’m afraid I was far too keen to give you your gift to wait any longer.”
“A gift, Uncle? You shouldn’t have.”
His eyes widen as you emerge from the carriage, a hesitant smile on your face as you nod your head in greeting.
“Nonsense! The Archduke needs a portrait to mark this historical day.”
“Your grace.” You begin, cautiously. “I’m not sure you remember me, but-“
“My lady,” he begins, slyly taking your hand and pressing a kiss against your knuckles in greeting. “Of course I do. I assure you I could not forget one of such talent, nor of such beautiful visage.”
“You are too kind, your grace.”
“Joshua – I insist.”
“Joshua.” The word feels precious on your tongue. “Lord Byron is quite keen for me to paint a portrait of you and your brother, though I’m aware that this is probably quite a busy time for you to have long sittings.”
“Nonsense. You are welcome to my time whenever you wish, my lady.”
--
Joshua would never openly admit to it, but he had been somewhat jealous of Clive in their childhood. Not of the distain his mother had shown towards her first-born son, no, but of the freedom that maternal neglect had permitted him. Though Clive had taken the burden of being the First Shield upon his shoulders without a word of complaint, it was not as if Joshua had asked to be the Dominant of the Phoenix, nor that he had a choice in the matter at all. So many people were relying on him, championing him on, but when he was laid up in bed, downing elixirs and tonics made by the castle healers, he didn’t feel as strong as he needed to be.
Clive could go out wherever he wanted, do whatever he wanted without the watchful eye of Anabella or the gaggle of her handmaidens. He could wear whatever he pleased too, practical things, even. Joshua instead had been draped in the finest fabrics, shipped in from Dhalkmekia that he would be scolded over for dirtying even slightly.
He thought he was old enough to no longer experience such a childish notion as jealousy – he could wear what he wanted, go where he wanted, no longer burdened by Ultima in his chest or the Phoenix in his being… But the foul feeling is getting harder to ignore when he is forced to sit there as you grip Clive’s bicep, moving his arm a fraction of an inch to the left, or the way in which you shyly adjust his shirt, claiming it’s important to have the outfit the exact same in order for the shading, but you never show him the same courtesy. He had hoped for more private sittings, to have your company to himself – perhaps sitting shoulder to shoulder with Clive’s muscular form was doing him no favours - but Byron had requested the two men together in a portrait, so the sessions had been arranged for when they were both free so you could at least get the outlines down, as well as some initial colouring.
You tug Clive’s shirt down a little to try and get it to lay flat – face burning with how your hand ghosted across his muscular chest - it had ridden a little and bunched when he sat. Clive stared straight ahead, hands clasped, ever the gentleman, and Joshua found himself shuffling in position, hoping his shirt might misbehave.
The Founder does not bless him so, as you return back behind the canvas.
--
Joshua arrives for his sitting in a good mood for two reasons – one, it is just to be him as Clive is away in Eastpool for a day or so, and two, he had a plan.
He did have a morning and early afternoon of meetings and reports to get through, but he had promised the late afternoon and as much as the evening for his sitting to take place, and that is certainly enough time to put said plan into action.
“Hello,” You smile brightly as he enters, taking his usual position on the chair.  Joshua has his pose down to a fine art, whereas Clive needed more co-ercing to settle. “Are you sure you have time for this today? It might be a rather long one, I’m afraid I have a lot to get through as Lord Byron is keen for it to be ready for the day.”
“As I said, I am all yours for as long as you can stand me, my lady.”
You nod, stepping behind the canvas and pick up from where you left off. He doesn’t make his move for a good while, watching carefully as your eyes flick between the canvas and him and you begin to mix up paints once more, trial and error as usual as you worked diligently to find the right shade.
He makes his move when you turn back to the table to grab a clean brush, tugging the knot on the laces of his shirt clear and then shrugging his shoulder, revealing a little more of his chest than was previously on display.
You turn back round and your gaze flick between Joshua and the canvas once more… only for you to doubletake. He bites back a grin in celebration. It must be the candlelight playing tricks on your eyes because you could’ve sworn Joshua’s shirt laces were most definitely tied a moment ago. Mayhaps you should open a door – are the paint fumes going a little too much to your head after being sequestered in here all day long?
“Is everything all right?”
“Your, erm…” You put down the paint brush. “Your shirt laces have come undone.”
“Oh, have they?” He shrugs again, his top slipping down his shoulder a little more. “Oh, the shading, of course. My apologies.”
“That’s all right.” You wipe your hands clean on a rag, wondering how it had come quite so undone, before walking over to your subject. “May I?”
“By all means.”
You pull his shirt up his shoulder, lining it up with his ear -  a good reference point - and pull the laces taught to tie off once more. You step back, cock your head this way and that, and then forward again to adjust it once more.
“There.”
“Wonderful.”
You return back to the canvas and begin to paint, brow furrowed in concentration, whilst Joshua feels absolutely giddy that his plan had been somewhat successful in achieving your touch.
So much so, that he cannot resist a tug at the laces once more the very next time he sees you turn your back – this time to take a deep drink of water - shrugging his shoulder once more, so it reveals more of his collarbone. He composes his features, he can’t give the game away by grinning like a child.
You turn back after a few moments and this time notice immediately, opening your mouth to say something but not quite knowing what to say. You’re sure you tied the knot firmly enough to stay put.
“What is it, my lady?” He tilts his head in intrigue.
“Your… Your shirt, it’s come undone. Again.”
“No,” he feigns disbelief, looking down at his chest in surprise. “I only stretched, I assure you.”
“Of course – mayhaps I didn’t tie it tight enough.” You wipe your hands clean again on the rag and stride over, a little less cautious this time as you tug his shirt back up, now standing between his spread legs – when did that happen? - lining it up with his ear once again and tighten the laces before securing it in a knot. You nod, more to yourself, as you check over your handiwork and go to step back.
“Thank you.” Joshua catches your hand as you do so, stilling your retreat. “It is very admirable how dedicated you are to your work.”
“I think it is how I get them to seem as realistic as you say they are – the shading is everything.” Your heart is pounding in your chest by how close you are, stood between his thighs. “I should…”
“Of course,” he releases your hand and by the time you’re back behind the canvas, his legs are crossed once more.
You work in silence for a while, getting fully into the flow now that Joshua’s shirt appears to be behaving. He enjoys watching you work – the way sometimes you stick your tongue out when you are concentrating particularly hard on a certain element, how your brow furrows, how tiny smatters of paint begin to decorate your cheeks and your hair as you dab the brush onto the canvas.
As the time passes, he cannot refuse to chase the thrill of your touch one more time this evening. Clive returns tomorrow and maybe this will be his last chance for a while – he couldn’t so boldly unlace his shirt with his brother sat by his side. He waits for another opportune moment for your back to be turned, and tugs at the knot.
It holds firm.
Your back is still turned, so he tugs again.
Nothing.
He raises his other hand to try and help undo the knot, before leaning up in his chair slightly to see if he can see what you’re doing, how much longer you may be as he continues fighting the knot. He thinks you’re having another drink of water, so he risks looking down, finally pulling the knot free and frantically shrugs his shoulders – a little more vigorously than before as he feels his shirt slip down on both.
He looks up in relief, only to see you have turned back whilst he was looking down, your head tilted as you stare at him in confusion.
Joshua feels his face burn as red as his old cowl at being caught in the act.
You walk over to him again, trying to hold in a smile that is rapidly creeping across your face and feeling as bold as brass. “Although I would like to paint you sans shirt, Joshua, I don’t think your uncle would be best pleased.”
“You would?” His voice lilts before he shakes his head, embarrassment and shame overcoming him. “No, I beg your forgiveness, my lady.” He mumbles, tugging his shirt back up on his shoulders. “I have let feelings of jealousy drive my actions and it is most unbecoming of a future Archduke.”
“Jealousy?”
“I… desired your touch, but I understand that Clive is…”
“He’s…?”
“A finer specimen.” He feels entirely foolish and somewhat pathetic for even saying it aloud – his brother’s body had come from years of enforced labor, for Founder’s sake! “Please, my lady, I beg you for-“
You press your lips against his in a chaste kiss, before pulling back with a shy smile, heart pounding, hoping you’ve read the signs and heard him correctly.
“I assure you, Clive is not the one I desire.”
He lifts a hand to caress your cheek for a moment before pulling you back in between his thighs, a steadying hand on your back as your lips meet again once more – a succession of frantic kisses, as if you are both trying to squeeze in as many as you can before the moment is over.
The two of you begin to slow your rhythm as you nestle yourself upon his thigh, feel his tongue swipe across your lips, seeking entrance. You part them slightly and he is quick to divulge with a moan that makes you tingle.
You have to retreat to catch your breath at one point – never in your wildest dreams had you pictured the session ending with you sat on the future Archduke’s lap, his shirt now hanging open around his shoulders again.
“Please do not say you have to get back to the portrait, darling one.” He murmurs into your throat before pressing kisses across your jaw.
“No. Your complexion is too flush for me to continue,” you tease.
“Good. For I have something else in mind for the evening.”
“Oh?”
“A private showing, if you will.” He takes your hand and places it flat against the exposed part of his chest – you can feel his heart pounding through your fingertips.  
“Where would that be?”
“My bed chambers.”
--
Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi
Comments, follows, likes and reblogs make my day!
(The tags aren't working for this one - sigh...)
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don-daygamerz · 1 year
Text
Long Way For Love
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Ben Barnes x Reader
Requested by: @marimorena06
Request: Heyy!What about a friends to lovers with ben Barnes? ❤
Warnings: some swearing (I think), descriptions of intimacy (not smut just major fluff)
Word count: 4.4K
Italics - thoughts
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Love occurs in many ways. It can happen on the brightest days or the stormiest nights. It can happen on purpose or by accident. It can even happen through gain or loss. Love is a powerful and enigmatic feeling. It can either build you or destroy you. But did you know that love can sometimes not happen instantly? Yeah…Love can take its sweet time to even be realized. That’s what this story is about. And it began with a young man and a young woman.
The young man was named Benjamin Thomas Barnes but Ben Barnes in short. Catchy right? (It even made the woman blush just thinking about it) And our young fair maiden who would soon be the object of Ben’s affections was none other than (Name) (Middle name) (Surname). Ben had thought to himself of what a sweet name she had…beautiful, actually. The two first met on the set of ‘The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian’. (Name) was an aspiring actress and had landed the role of Selene, sorceress, and protector of Narnia. The two instantly connected and were a great support to one another.
They immediately became fast friends and were happy to share some interests and acting tips through their experiences. Ben was always happy to share with (Name) their love of literature, the classics, art, music, poetry, and so much more.
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“So you’re telling me you lied about knowing how to horse ride?” (Name) gave him a shocked but inquisitive look after hearing his confession. The man in question became bashful and wanted the couch he was sitting on to swallow him whole. Why did he have to tell the pretty girl he lied about being a pro at horse riding?
“I wouldn’t say I lied…”
“Oh boy…ha ha ha…I’d like to hear this,” (Name) chuckled at her companion. She needed to hear his hilarious excuse as to what made him think he could get away with such a ‘dark’ secret.
“Ok, ok. Shush…Don’t you want to hear the actual truth?” he asked her.
“You’re right. My apologies, your highness. I did not mean to disrespect you in the slightest,” she said to him in her best posh British accent while giving a mock bow. Which was not bad at all. (Name) was not only an aspiring actress but also dabbled in some voice acting. That was one of the things that fascinated Ben. She was so talented.
After her little antic, Ben could not help but playfully roll his eyes at her. “Anyway…As I was saying,” he continued, “I did not exactly lie…exaggerate is more like it…”
“Oh yeah! You sure did exaggerate it! Ha ha! You basically preached it is what I was told when you did the auditions, ha ha ha!” Ben’s face turned red hearing her say this but he couldn’t stop the smile growing on his face. He thought her laugh was cute and funny…wait, did hear a snort?
“Alright, then when was the last time you rode?”
“Umm… Last I rode a horse was when I was little…”
“Little how old?”
“Seven or eight, give or take.”
“Benjamin Barnes! You need proper lessons! My god! You’re lucky you made it this far! What if you got hurt?!” she chided him but out of concern after hearing the rest of his truth. Ben just smiled at how worried she became. (Name) was the nurturing type among the cast members. She deeply cared for every single one of them including him.
“I’m alright now, aren’t I?”
“Luck may be your friend right now but there’s no telling when she’ll turn tail and stab you in the back…Uh, Uh, No. You need thorough practice, Mister.” She began to lecture him sternly. Ben was smart, without a doubt, but he was also stubborn.
“I am practicing.”
“Walks and trots are not enough. There are scenes where we have to ride the horses at a much quicker pace. You have to master the canter and gallops.” She was right. He just felt lost and confused at this point. “But not to worry…there’ll be an instructor and specialist. Including me.”
“You? I didn’t peg you for an equestrian.”
“One thing in life you shouldn’t underestimate is how cartoons can influence a child’s decisions and life choices,” she explained to him animatedly. Ben laughed at her delightful nature as she gave him a cute and innocent answer to how she gained the skill.
“Are you serious? You have to be joking,” he leaned in close while placing his elbows on his lap. Ben sat on the couch alone while (Name) opted to sit crisscross applesauce on the carpeted floor by the coffee table.
“Dead serious, my good sir!” she said haughtily to her dashing co-star as she sipped from her glass of wine. Ben just kept chortling after hearing how his ‘new-found’ friend committed to learning a dangerous and tough skill such as horse riding just from watching a cartoon show.
“And, pray tell what animated television show was it that influenced such a young mind to study a perilous skill that is horse riding? Strangely I have a feeling I know what kind of show it is…” he grinned at her mischievously. Both the actors just loved to rile each other up in fits of laughter and joy. (Name) chuckled under her breath before looking up and dead straight into his eyes.
“It was My Little Pony.”
“My Little Pony! Ha ha yes! Girls in my primary school days loved that show.”
“All girls either dreamed to be an equestrian or a magical horse… for me I think it was both.”
Learning these silly things about his ‘newfound’ friend and co-star felt like an interesting and thrilling adventure. He felt like an explorer having discovered something new and exciting. Ben didn’t take into account how he could connect and share with a person like (Name). He was normally reserved but (Name) allowed him to open himself and be at ease.
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So yeah that’s how it started with the two. (Name) and Ben started off as friends…good friends actually. It was saddening to know that both actors will have to look elsewhere for open roles in upcoming films/tv shows. But that didn’t diminish their hope of losing their friendship nor contact with one another. From there, they made promises to keep in touch and send support anytime, anywhere. Ben was delighted with how things were going for him in the film industry. He had come a long way and studied hard. He began with minor roles and dabbled in music, and finally, his talent and skills were recognized.
As for our lovely (Name)? Things were also looking good for her as well. Her performance (though a minor role she had played) in Narnia astonished viewers…critiques and gave way to more opportunities for the young actress. Busy schedules, signings, interviews, making appearances, promotion of brands, and so on; this was just the beginning for the two rising but underrated stars. Not at all did it dwindle their connection…only made it stronger. All in all, they always made the time to call one another.
At the start, it was a friendship, yes. But it became more personal for the two. Secrets were shared. Families and siblings were introduced. Insecurities were confessed to one another. A lot of meaningful things were made between Ben and (Name). It was obvious to everyone around them including their families that the two were meant to be. The Barnes family adored (Name) for her selfless and kind nature towards their eldest son. And the (Surname) family was grateful to Ben for looking after their daughter in the film industry. The Barnes were also thankful for how she was patient and respectful of their son’s nature.
You know…when (Name) was first introduced to his family, they actually had mistaken her for his girlfriend. Their chemistry was good…really good that it really misguided them into believing that they were dating. But Ben’s mother knew him well. He was deeply infatuated with her. And he didn’t even know it. After a nice hearty meal in the Barnes household, Mrs. Barnes didn’t have to look further through her analytical eyes as she gazed upon her son talking so animatedly with the sweet girl.
From then on, she’d come to the conclusion that this young lady right here sitting before her was meant to be with her son. Another thing to add, the woman wasn’t getting any younger…she wanted some grandbabies.
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Support was given, secrets were shared, jokes were exchanged, and so much more. The friendship grew and strengthened, and it became apparent in the eyes of everyone how Ben and (Name) adored one another. But it became so frustrating how neither one of them took the initiative to confess to one another. Yeah, they liked each other, without a doubt. Okay, that’s a bit of an understatement so let me clarify it, Ben and (Name) genuinely loved each other (secretly and unknowingly).
However, despite the close relationship they held, they still both led different lives and hence went on different paths. (Name) would be occupied in some part of the US for a TV series and Ben would be in another part of the US in a studio working on his movie. All in all, they were busy with their schedules, interviews, and promotions.
In addition, Ben was a dashing and charming fellow so it was no surprise he was not single most of the time. He would date different girls here and there. Some he met through mutual friends and some he worked with. The relationships didn’t last long but (Name) felt she could not compare to these beautiful and striking women that caught her best friend’s eye.
Now she didn’t think less of herself. No, not one bit. She loved herself and all that she was. Her attitude was basically ‘Fuck you! My body, my choice, and besides I doubt you can handle all this!’ Oh yeah, total badass. But the point was she felt she could never fit herself in Ben’s heart. Of course, there would be some insecurities like; Was she not enough? Will she ever be enough? Does he ever see her as beautiful? Do you think he would feel the same way as she did about him?
I guess she would never know. So she lets fear cloud her thoughts and convinces her to bury those feelings deep inside and lock them away. It was better this way, she would tell herself, better to hide than leave with a broken heart and a destroyed friendship.
As for Ben’s case, he was also cooped up with his own schedule and the interviews but he always had something occupying his mind or rather someone. That, someone, was, of course, (Name). Why? Well, he wondered if she was doing okay... if she got the role she was auditioning for... if she got the package he sent her... or if was it too much. He did recall how much she enjoys candy from the UK, so he thought why not send her a box of candy.
His head wasn’t just occupied with her but his heart too. Ben couldn’t ignore how fast his heart was beating at the thought of (Name). Even with all women he has dated in his life, he always compared them to her. She was everything they weren’t. She was everything that he looked for in a woman. She was just everything and he loved it.
Yes, Ben Barnes was deeply infatuated with (Name) (Surname). And that infatuation would remain a secret for… who knows how long. Ben didn’t want to risk the chance of getting rejected and losing their friendship altogether. He couldn’t imagine losing her. He would not dare be reckless with his feelings either. But deep down… Ben wishes (Name) would one day return his feelings, so, in the meantime, he’ll just keep it all inside whilst he cherished his time with (Name) as being her best friend.
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One of the many things both the actors shared their love and joy in, was celebrating the holidays. Sure at first, these special occasions would be celebrated with close loved ones such as their families and long-time childhood friends. But it had gotten to a point in their lives that their friendship became…how to describe it…wholesome? Amazing? Fun? No, it was UNIQUE.
Ben and (Name) may have had their own circles of friends and companions but when it came to just the two of them…Things were just different really. But in a good way. And with how their friendship felt ‘unique’, many of their cherished moments included sharing some of the holidays.
It was late December but only one day before Christmas Eve. The sky was dim and cloudy as a shower of snowflakes descended upon the white blankets that covered mother earth. Our beloved (Name) (Surname) was currently settled in Ben’s humble abode and getting comfortable in the kitchen. Earlier, the young lad had received word that his old friend, (Name), was in his area and without a moment to lose nor a chance to forgo, called the actress to come over and celebrate the holiday with him.
Well, actually in truth, it may have slipped out as they were catching up over the phone. It started off as a light conversation. (Name) had come to England very early December to visit her cousin and attend an engagement party. During their chat, Ben had thought to himself of how it would be wonderful if she spent the winter holiday with him for the first time. What he hadn’t realized then was that he had voiced out his own thought. Of course, (Name) heard him. She said yes after all. What neither could tell as they spoke on the phone was how Ben was so flushed and red in the face, and how (Name) could not stop smiling to the point her cheeks hurt.
The two were filled with giddiness and glee at the prospect of spending this merry occasion with one another.
(Name) had taken up the duty of baking and was now occupied with rolling the cinnamon-sprinkled dough while mischievous and quite secretive Ben was trying to be sneaky in licking the sugary frosting. He was excited to finally eat some of his friend’s food once again. It was always a treat for him when (Name) pulled out her cooking skills and introduced her ethnic foods to him. It was actually both a treat and a learning experience for him.  
A fond memory to look back on was the first time they cooked together 9It was the first time (Name) had been to his home. She was so flustered that day but happy nonetheless that Ben was opening himself to her. It made their friendship so genuine). (Name) had quite the adorable shocked look on her face when she realized her British BFF did not always season his food properly. Well, he did. Just only salt and pepper. And if he felt like going crazy then a dash of paprika.
“Seriously? That’s a dash? More like dandruff,” she had teased him but he would pipe back saying, “I can’t help it! Don’t judge me!”
“You’re lucky you have me at your side, you uncultured Brit. That palate of yours needs some awakening. You, my handsome fellow need to have a taste of flavor!”
“You think I’m handsome?” he smirked at her which made her blush profusely.
“Ah-ah don’t change the subject! I’m here to teach you and you will thank me in the future.” Nice save, (Name), way to draw his attention away from that compliment you blurted out.
Then again, now that she looked at him closely. Ben was really handsome. He had such an adorable, infectious smile, dark alluring eyes, smooth luscious hair (which she envied so much, I mean have you seen his hair?!), and those lips…so pink, so soft, and kissable- ‘What the hell is wrong with me?! I can’t have these kinds of thoughts about my best friend! Not even, Ben!’
(Name) never saw Ben for his looks but for his personality. She found him to be kind, brilliant, humble, compassionate, caring, genuine, and… gosh, she could go on and on about the great things she sees in him. In the end, (Name) could not deny the truth…and the truth was that she was falling harder for the young actor, day by day.
“You feeling alright, love?” Ben interrupted her train of thought. Seems like she was spaced out there as her mind walked through memory lane. Now back to the present, (Name) looked back to the man that held her heart without his knowledge, and… Wait a second! Is that white frosting at the corner of his lip?! All of a sudden, (Name) boldly swiped her thumb at the corner of his lips picking the bit of frosting and bringing it into his line of sight to playfully reprimand him for his actions.
This caught Ben off guard and brought sweet chills down his back when (Name) touched him briefly. But then his eyes saw how she grumpily looked at him like he was a wanted criminal. God, did she look so adorable. He almost laughed at how she pouted so cutely like an angry chipmunk.
“Ha ha, you caught me,” he told her with hands slightly raised in surrender.
“Mhm, seriously, Barnes. What am I going to do with you?” she questioned him.
“Love me unconditionally? Cuz I think we’re low on frosting…” he trailed off nervously with a mischievous grin on his face that showed no regret in his actions. (Name)’s eyes widened slightly and looked to the bowl that held the concoction of her grandmother’s frosting.
“Ooh you dang little Brit…” she then dabbed her frosting coating thumb on his nose which made him chuckle at her reaction. “Oh well, I wouldn’t say little…” Ben replied naughtily going off perversely which made the woman blush at the thought of it which made the man chortle at her embarrassed reaction.
“Oh-Oh-you… You know what, out! Out! I need to finish this before your parents come over!”
“Are you seriously kicking me out of my kitchen?!” he laughed.
“Yes, yes I am! Because somebody keeps eating the ingredients!”
Ben just kept laughing as he let her push him out through the kitchen door but then paused as he looked up. “Oh look, mistletoe,” he pointed out. This caused (Name) to halt her movements and look up as well. And indeed, there was a mistletoe hanging at the entrance of the kitchen door. Huh, how did she miss that? Suddenly there was a stillness in the air as they both had come to the realization of what being under the mistletoe meant.
Ben’s thoughts of kissing (Name) right there and now but the risk of ruining the friendship and making things awkward between the two caused him to reel in the chance of doing so. He deeply cared for her and he would never dare try to drive her away nor scare her because he held feelings for her. He turned his body towards her and saw her staring at the mistletoe in deep thought and wonder.
She looked back at him and immediately their eyes connected. And suddenly, the world around them began to disappear and it was just them and them alone. It felt like being in a foggy dream. Ben and (Name) stood before each other staring at each other for long until Ben spoke, “Shou-should we… you know...” he barely formed his sentence but (Name) was quick to understand what he meant.
Hold on! Did Ben perhaps gesture that they commit the mistletoe tradition?! Was he serious?! So many thoughts ran through the woman’s mind. “I-I mean… It is tradition… I-If that’s what you want…” she herself found it hard to speak as well. Here she was, in front of the man that held her heart and the way he was looking at her... His face and expression held such a soft, sweet, loving, captivated look.
They coincidently held a reoccurring thought… ‘If I do this… there’s no turning back.’ Their faces then leaned in closer till they could feel each other’s warm breaths and signature perfumes. Ben smelt sweet yet woody whilst (Name) smelt fruity and fresh. Not too long did their lips collide and a passionate feeling burst between the two.
As their lips touched, they went back to recall all of their relationships and past experiences of kissing other people… none of them could compare to what they were doing. Ben felt so happy right then and there that he pushed himself to kiss the girl he’s always dreamed about and (Name) felt other bliss being in Ben’s arms as his lips caressed hers. He was tender yet passionate. The two had to pull away to regain oxygen and finally face the reality of the situation they put themselves in. As they pulled away from one another, Ben still kept his arms around (Name) while she had hers around his neck.
It had dawned on them that their kiss was so… real and intimate that their bodies were brought closer till they were intertwined. Ben began to smile and chuckled which confused (Name) and at the same time scared her into thinking Ben was playing for her fool but what he said next changed everything.
“I- I’m not going to lie and say that wasn’t the best I’ve had since ever…I-I don’t regret what I’ve done, (Name), I don’t,” he confessed to her seriously. She began to pipe in but Ben placed his finger on her lips to give him a moment to finish what he started. “Let me explain, please…” She nodded back and let him continue.
“I don’t regret kissing you, (Name). Not one bit. In fact, I’ve been dreaming since the moment I met you to kiss you… but not what we did back when we filmed Narnia… but out here… in real life… I’ve always held feelings for you, for so long. Too long, actually. I love the way smile, the way you laugh and cry at cat videos…”
That last bit made (Name) giggle for it was true. She both loved and nurtured felines. Ben smiled at her reaction and it gave him the boost of confidence to further his confession.
“…I love how spontaneous you are, how smart… and talented you are, it’s amazing what you’re really capable of, and I really admire that about you… I am in love with you, (Name) (Surname).” He finally said the last part he craved to tell her for years throughout their friendship yet it came out shakily as he feared her reaction to his confession.
But wait…was she…smiling at him and…were those tears?! Oh no! Did Ben screw up their friendship?!
“Ha ha… oh Ben… and here I thought I was the only fool in love with their best friend…” she cried happily to him. Ben let out a huge breath of relief. He smiled through his own tears back at her as he cupped her face to wipe off her tears that trailed down her cheeks. She was too beautiful to cry even though they were happy tears.
“I love you, Ben Barnes. Always have, haha. My god, it’s really happening! I love the way your eyes light up when you- when you’re happy, I love the way you laugh, I love you’re enviously but beautiful hair… God! For a man that uses one product for every part of his body, he still looks good!”
Ben began to laugh uncontrollably at her comment about his hair. (Name) would sometimes mention how it was unfair that men would only have to rely on one product to apply on all parts of the body and yet come out smoother than a baby’s bottom.
“…what it’s true! Anyway, where was I… ah yes, the hair. Love your hair, I also love your passion for music, in fact, I love how you sing Ben…”
Now, this caught him off guard. Ben had been open to her about his dream to one day release his own music but he didn’t think (Name) believed in him.
“You are so talented, so smart, so authentic, so… you’re amazing Ben. I wish you would see yourself the way I see you… And that’s why I love you,” she gave her confession.
Ben was left awestruck by her words and just like always she always left him speechless. “It took us a long time to tell this to each other…” he said to her breathlessly.
“Years of agony of loving in the dark and the fear of rejection… it’s over… I can finally show you my affections in the open, right?” she asked him.
Ben tucked in a stray strand of her luscious locks that smelled of lavender before looking deep into her eyes, “No more hiding. It’s all out in the open.”
“So what’s next?” She was now confused and felt no need to leave the warmth of his embrace, “What does this mean for us?” (Name) wanted to understand further about the change of their relationship and all the changes that would come with it.
“It means… that we become what we’ve always wanted… more than friends…”
“I like that but… what if things ever go south…”
“Not possible,” he said it in an earnest tone.
“What makes you so sure?”
“Because you’re all I’ve been looking for all along.” This made her smile and she leaned into his arms as they hugged like two long-lost lovers who finally found each other once again.
“Ha ha ha, Hah! I love you, Sirius Black,” she said to him playfully.
“You are never going to cease to let me live that down, are you?” he rolled his eyes at her.
“Nope!”
It wasn’t that long ago when Ben learned that Harry Potter fans imagined him or declared him to be the young Sirius Black of the Marauders fandom. Not only that, he was one time asked to take pictures with a Gryffindor tie.
“You can also be quite cheeky, huh. But that’s what I love about you… Sundance…” he said the last part with a smirk that caught her off guard.
“How did you-?!”
“How could I forget that My Little Pony manipulated you into becoming an equestrian… and you only get Sundance merch, ha ha ha.”
“Ahh!”
“What?! It’s adorable!”
Yup, those two were meant to be.
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Author's note:
Hi @marimorena06 I really want to say I'm so sorry you had to wait so long for your request to be fulfilled. I'm aware you gave your request last year (2021) on November. I thought I was confident in taking requests but was overwhelmed with the list of replies (I'm not mad). I'm disappointed in myself in being slow but I'm happy to finally be done with all the requests that were sent to me. Though I think you deserve all of my sincerest apologies for having to wait the longest. So I decided to put all of my mind and heart into this fic and spice it up with so much love, details, short stories, and some humor.
It took me long and hard but I managed. I've come to the realization I don't do well with deadlines so I'm taking a break from accepting requests until I'm a pro at this. All those fandom writers who deal and accept with a lot of tumblr fic requests have my deepest respect. I only had a few and I barely managed. I didn't want to disappoint, I had writer's block many times, I was busy at home, looking for jobs (it is so hard to find), I was so sick (I'm not saying I had the hardest time), and my laptop sucks (like really sucks... I've had it for nearly 10 years).
So my apologies to you and to everyone else that was anticipating this fic. I hope it meets your expectations and that it brings you joy. And again thank you for your request it was so sweet of you to ask me, a newbie, to bring your idea to life. You can request again once I'm available. Right now I'll be going through some changes and introducing new content. Thank you once again, I hope you had a good holiday and happy new year to you and everyone else. And thank you for the support.
Taglist:
@marimorena06 @itzzzzcookie @s0-theking @s1xthirty @sagejames @fromgreytoyellow @esther334 @airsummoner @memymfselfandi @gweaswift @supernaturallover2002 @veganismbymelaniecavill @eginv-blog @fakehappy27 @ivymiriiu @bruxa0007 @jessevans @maregomes @dxvanadeline @lorenshmidt @mandybug39 @lovesssss @enchantingeggslimepeanut @nana-licious @rheathesimp @darlingangel-17 @edithsvoice @lewisroscoelove @calimoi
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WIBTA if I quit my school play?
Tl;dr at the bottom!!
For context, I’m 15f and was just cast in my school play. I had never been in one of my school’s productions, so I figured I’d give it a try and make some new friends (I transferred to this school). I really enjoy theatre, and I’ve been in productions since I was around seven or eight years old; I’m no stranger to it.
Well, it turns out the amount of interest for the school play was a lot bigger than they thought, so there were limited roles. Thankfully, I did manage to get into the main cast, so I was like, yay me (even though it was a smaller role, which I was wholeheartedly expecting, albeit a tad sad about)!
Yesterday, we finally started rehearsals and read from the script once, to get a feel of our characters. I didn’t know much about the role, since it was a lesser known play and all that was in the description for my character was ‘foreign housekeeper’. All I knew is that I’d have to have some kind of accent (something I’m not too good at, but I figured it would be fun to get out of my comfort zone a bit), so I had been practicing some kind of accent at home to try out with the script.
But when I was reading through my lines, I quickly discovered that this was NOT what I thought it was going to be.
My character, putting it lightly, is a blatantly xenophobic stereotype. They are a completely one note character whose only personality trait is, ‘foreign’. She can’t speak English very well, and tends to ‘mix up her words’, which the other characters tend to berate her for. She also never speaks in more than four words at a time, and the script goes out of its way to never have her speak in more than one syllable at a time. It’s disgusting, and I fucking hate it!
Here’s a direct line from the play so you can see one of the worst examples.
MY CHARACTER: No nuts in this house!
CHARACTER 2: Do you realize what you did, [my character]? You put all the words in the correct order! That’s wonderful! We’ve been waiting so long for this day!
MY CHARACTER: You thank.
CHARACTER 3 (and this character is the goddamn LEAD): Well, she’s bound to get things right once in awhile.
It just..makes me so uncomfortable. I want to get out of my comfort zone, but playing this character takes me out of it and places me one hundred miles away in the open desert.
The worst part I think is that this show is a goddamn murder mystery, and my character has no fucking purpose. They don’t even end up dying; they’re just there for ‘comic relief’, and it’s all fucking xenophobia! And at the end, it’s revealed that they’re stealing from their bloody employer.
I also think, based on their prior recorded performances, they’re going to put me a costume I’m not comfortable in…so I’m really considering quitting right now.
Here’s why I think I may be the asshole for quitting.
I technically signed a contract (not knowing about the characters but assuming it wouldn’t be more than a few swears and some sex jokes here and there) that I would play any character they cast me as…so I would be breaking that promise if I quit. There IS an understudy, so I won’t technically be fucking them over with this…but god, I am such a people pleaser that I’m thinking about just sucking it up and playing the part.
My parents told me I’m overreacting on the part and that I just need to ‘make it fun’…but fuck, I just can’t with it. I want to cry every time I’m at rehearsal because I feel like I’m condoning xenophobia with it.
So, do you think I’d be the asshole if I quit the play?
Tl;dr: WIBTA if I quit a show I signed a contract for (although there is an understudy) because I don’t feel comfortable with playing a character that is an xenophobic stereotype?
What are these acronyms?
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sgiandubh · 15 days
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Out of the OL bubble
Sidenote: this post owes everything to the incredible sleuthing skills of an already longtime trusted friend, who wishes to remain discreet. All credit goes entirely to her - this is such an idiotic topic, yet the Ur Troll insists.
I answered one of you in the comment threads yesterday, that once you get the hell out of the OL bubble, things begin to make sense. Why? Well, because of distance and context, I suppose. And also because this always was the dirty little secret of our Dedicated Manipulative Trolls: to make you believe in a terribly poor narrative, fit for a linear world. A world without compromise, drama, secrets and lies. Collective lack of time, perspective and/or Internet research skills did the rest and gave birth to this monster: the OL Fandom.
We are now told and are supposed to believe that because Scottish Xena apparently chose on purpose (with this and only this, I could agree, but for opposite reasons) to show us she trains in a Cumbernauld gym, that means... well, you know the rest and it involves The Magic Golden Dirk. That troll was never exactly subtle, was she, bless her heart?
That mother and entrepreneur has a life of her own and an entourage of her own and business collaborations of her own and her own agenda. Some of it is shown on her Instagram account, most of it can be speculated. Connecting dots just for the sake of it is neither productive, nor remotely interesting.
Let's see, for example, how she reacts to a very insistent fellow German athlete, whom she is going to meet at the Hyrox Cologne event (13-14th of April, during the Landcon week-end):
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😬😱
What is Flamingos Club? Nope, not an ikebana society, no:
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Tee-hee.
They were there before, in good company, last year, when they actually first met (rings a bell?):
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(April 2023, ok? I am still waiting for my own DeLorean)
Who is this guy?
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Fellow athlete, HYROX Ambassador (something I bet the farm she wants to achieve) and a contestant in this year's German reality show First Dates Hotel, on VOX (https://www.vox.de/cms/sendungen/first-dates-hotel.html):
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The concept is simple: a renowned German chef, Roland Trettl (no idea!) now takes his blind date cooking show to the next level, with singles from all over the country parked into a Spanish dream holiday resort (Mallorca), shake, stir and see whatever happens. The classical Endemol recipe, now produced by Twenty Twenty. It also has an UK version, running on Channel 4 (coincidence? I doubt that very much, thank you!).
On set, Max's 'love interest' is a certain Linda. He recently wrote her ' a sweet love letter', taking the good advice of his namesake cast friend Max-the-Bartender:
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(I swear to God, I feel like I am prostituting my 🧠, right now).
There is obviously nothing to see, here (or is it, such as two wannabes desperately wanting limelight?). She leads the typical no strings attached life of a single mom and he is still looking for a real job:
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Since VOX does not give his full name, neither will I. It took five minutes to find him, with a bit of luck.
Why on Earth would one connect that woman to S, rather than to this nice, ambitious Bavarian?
I know why. It's almost too damn easy.
Two words: Channel 4. Truman Show. Ginger and Fred (oops, these are Our Couple).
Is it anything we haven't seen before?
Nope. We've seen way worse. But gone are the Days of Flukenzie Floozy.
[Edited] - there is no need to further expose our people.
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updownlately · 8 months
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1 - but she loves me, she loves me
series masterlist
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“You’re shivering…” 
Looking up from your phone with a guilty look plastered on your face, you forced yourself to stop trembling. Back muscles taught, you schooled your expression to a neutral one, immediately wordlessly refuting the statement. 
All you were met with, however, was a raised eyebrow from the blonde in front of you, the silent challenge speaking volumes, the loving smile on her face letting you know she was only teasing.
Giving up, you wordlessly admitted to being caught, a sheepish smile spreading in place of your serious questioning look, shoulders dropping the tension.
“Okay so I might have forgotten to grab my jacket. Just maybe…” Biting back your embarrassed grin, you dug your toe into the floor, eyes cast downward as Alessia’s melodic laugh filtered in your ears. 
“Because of course you did…” The accusatory tone in Alessia’s statement wasn’t lost on you, but it wasn’t like you could discredit the observation, having been through this one too many times already. 
It wasn’t your fault you just happened to always forget your jacket when you were leaving the apartment, the coveted item very likely still hanging off the coat rack by the entrance to your shared home.
“I swear you do it on purpose at this point…like how does one forget a jacket? That too here? In rainy London?” 
Dropping your shoulders, a pout already forming on your face, you furrowed your eyebrows.
“It kinda just happens! I swear! It’s like one second I’m putting on my shoes, and then the next I’m sprinting out of the apartment trying to catch up to your long legs, jacket still in the apartment!”
Futilely defending yourself, you wrapped your arms around your midsection in an effort to stave off the cold, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by the taller girl. 
Smiling fondly at your pout, Alessia lovingly rolled her eyes, arms reaching out to pull you near, closing the gap between you two.
“Yeah, yeah, sure blame it on me…as if you’re totally not the one often locking up when we go out…”
Laughing silently now at the wince on your face, you burying your head into Alessia’s neck to hide your reddening cheeks, the striker wrapped her arms around you tightly. 
“You’re lucky you’re so cute…and shorter than me because otherwise you wouldn’t have lasted this long, gosh…”
Cuddling you for a few more moments, the Gunner tried her best to warm you up with her body heat, the chilly fall air whipping around you two as you stood on the side of a walkway.
Well accustomed to what had to be done, aware that your (read: her own) flimsy hoodie would do nothing to protect you from the icy breeze, Alessia pulled away from you, much to your protest. 
Quickly shrugging off her own coat, already prepared for this inevitable moment, the blonde quickly wrapped it around your shoulders, the jacket nearly drowning you due to your height difference. 
“There…as per usual,” the jest from the blonde came just seconds after her hands finished adjusting the coat, her head shaking affectionately at the content smile that spread around your face at the influx of warmth.
“Hey! I don’t borrow your coat that often…surely?” There was no way, right? You knew you were forgetful but Alessia had to be exaggerating here. 
“Love, the amount of photos in my phone that can prove otherwise, never mind ones that the fans have taken of us while we’re out…”
Pout returning to your face, you looked up at the blonde, disbelief across your face at the betrayal.
Hooking you in by the belt loops, the striker pulled you close, lips coming to rest at your forehead. 
“Don’t worry, I still love you, even if it means I have to give you my jacket every time we go out.” 
Placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, her smile cutting it short, Alessia grabbed your hand, pulling you into her side as you both continued your walk to your favourite cafe. 
Smiling at your luck, well aware that at the end of every second, minute, hour, or day, Alessia loved you immensely, all of you, your easily excitable energy and forgotten jackets included, you matched Alessia's footfalls, tucking yourself underneath her arm.
Your own arm coming to sling across her waist, you held her close, letting her love comfort you from the inside out, jacket near useless with the warmth spreading in your heart.
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bhaalsbabe · 1 month
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Bloodbath
Pairing: Orin the Red x gn!Reader
Genre: fluff
Word count: 1.4k
Summary/warnings: taking a bath with Orin; MDNI, dark themes (mentions of killing, flaying, cutting - we're talking about Orin ok), unhealthy relationship, mentions of Orin physically hurting Reader (her weird expression of love), non-sexual nudity
I swear this is supposed to be fluff
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Loving Orin came to you as naturally as breathing. She was perfect in every way, her unhinged personality a breath of fresh air after your boring life in the city. She liked bringing you with her when she did her ritualistic murders and it always made your heart beat faster as you watched her work. Each cut of her knives precise, with purpose, eliciting screams from the victim and laughter from the changeling. She liked to toy with them, just like she liked to toy with you - and you wouldn't have it any other way.
Yet there were times when she would become softer, more mellow. You held those moments close to your heart as they were extremely rare. Tonight, you were lucky enough to experience another one of them.
After another killing spree, you both returned back to the Undercity, to the Temple of Bhaal that you both called home. Orin's pale skin was coloured red from blood, some more fresh, some already dried and peeling off. She was in high spirits, the way she enacted her worship of Bhaal giving her a rush she couldn't get enough of. You held a bag full of materials for a new outfit for your beloved - she showed you how to flay a person and keep them alive through the most of the harvest. You failed, of course, your hands nowhere near the skill level she had, the drunkard going into shock soon after you gave it a try. Nonetheless, you got the skin secured, ready to be prepared and turned into another one of Orin's skin-suits.
You walked through the familiar corridors, a few Bhaalists looking at Orin in awe while you trailed behind her like a loyal pet. Once you got to her chambers, a privilege she had as a Bhaalspawn, you put the bloody bag on the ground and went to the bathtub you had finally convinced her to add. You cast Create Water, a handy conjuration spell you got through a ring you found on one of Orin's victims. Speaking of her, you moved to help her remove her 'clothes'. You knew the mechanics behind it well, being the one who helped her craft it and all, so she was bare before you soon.
"Why won't you bathe with me in blood instead? It would suit you~" She sing-songed, pouting slightly as you took her hand gently, leading her to the bathtub.
"Because I'd probably get a disease from it or something. Maybe if you wouldn't dig your blades into my skin so often, it wouldn't be so risky."
"Now now, little rat, you and I both know that you like it. You like it, you do!" She giggled, dipping herself in the water that immediately started turning crimson.
"Only because it's you doing it," you blushed, taking her long braid and holding it out if the water as she sinked into the tub. You removed the decorations adorning it, putting it on a nearby table, and then you started unbraiding the hairstyle, humming an ancient melody of a song about star-crossed lovers.
Her hair was beautiful, just like the rest of her. Even when it was stained with blood, it was mesmerizing. Sometimes, she'd use the decorated braid as a flail, turning these delicate strands into a brutal weapon. The crusting blood near the ends served as a proof of her creative use of this part of her.
As you finally unbraided the hair, you lifted it all and put it into the tub with Orin. She opened her white eyes and gave you a strange look.
"Join me, sweet thing," she offered you, her eyes piercing through you like her knives. You nodded, quickly disrobing and climbing into the bathtub as she moved to make space for you, her soaked hair moving with her like a sea creature. You smiled at her, taking a prepared soap and starting to scrub her front with it. She kept looking at you like the predator she was, and you had to look down at her naked body to feel less nervous, that's how unsettling her gaze was.
"I'm sure our Lord appreciates what you do for him..." You tried to fill the silence as your soapy hands explored the top of her body, occasionally stopping to scrub off some dried blood and grime. She didn't say anything, only leaning more towards you as your palms brushed over her nipples. "I definitely appreciate you," you continued, finding courage and lifting your gaze to connect your eyes. Her lips twitched, her unusually long arms pulling you into a sweet embrace. You let her do it, choosing to wash her back instead as she continued holding you, her fingers lightly tracing the many scars adorning your body, most of them created by her. You both soaked not only in the water, but in each other's presence as well. Even as you finished cleaning the changeling's pale swirling skin, you continued rubbing her back, and you felt her rest her weight on you fully.
"I love you, Orin..." You whispered, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. She tightened her embrace in response, clutching you almost desperately. You heard her sharp intake of breath, her nails digging into the skin of your back, and then she gave your shoulder several shockingly soft kisses in return. You could feel her inner turmoil during these moments, but as you continued holding her, providing her with comfort and safety, even her troubled mind settled eventually.
When you pulled away at last, Orin refused to look at your face, your roles almost reversing. During your time spent with her, you found out she got shy when you gave her genuine affection and expected nothing back in return. The same woman who could expertly torture and kill, who played with intestines as if it was clay and used blood to paint the city red - she allowed you to see her vulnerable side, the part that she wouldn't - couldn't - show to anyone before. And your heart beat faster and harder from the knowledge of this.
"Turn around, I'll wash your hair now," you prompted her, your voice soft and quiet, minding the intimate atmosphere. At this moment, it was just the two of you. Orin complied, turning her back to you and letting you rub her scalp with your soapy hands. You massaged the tender skin, smiling when you heard her hum and relax more. After a few minutes of the massage, you finally moved to clean her hair, making sure it was pristine again. Her hair was so long it was pretty much filling the entire tub. You worked on it slowly, and Orin started to grow impatient, turning back to you to glare at you.
"What?" You asked, chuckling.
"Stop being so meticulous, I want your skin touching mine again." As if to prove the point, she turned around entirely, pulling you against her, water splashing around from the forceful movement as you slipped and crashed against her wet skin. She laughed as you struggled to sit properly again. Her hands helped to steady you, her strength surprising when you considered her build - though was it really that surprising, when she arranged corpses on daily basis. "Better," she murmured contentedly.
You suppressed a surprised gasp when Orin started mirroring your previous actions, taking the soap and scrubbing your skin with it. You wouldn't dare to question her actions, however, so you just accepted her uncharacteristic kindness. She wasn't as gentle as you, her nails occasionally dragging against your skin, even opening an unhealed wound once or twice. When you grunted in discomfort, she laughed at you again before kissing the back of your neck apologetically. She cleaned you fast, moving to wash your hair in half a time it took you to get there. You didn't mind though, as any time spent in her presence felt like a boon.
"I will carve my name into your skin tonight, dearest one~" she whispered huskily into your eat as she massaged your scalp. "And because I like you, I'll even let you choose a place where my blades will dance." She giggled, and your heart skipped a beat in excitement. You turned your head to her, seeing her pleased smile. You were completely smitten, nodding in acknowledgement before helping her wash the suds off your hair. Then, the two of you finally left the quickly cooling water, drying your bodies with the prepared towels. You kept glancing at her, how her skin shimmered in the dim lightning, how her lips stayed slightly upturned - she knew you were watching her. And she knew you'd be looking at her with same reverence even when she's inevitably forced to kill you in Bhaal's name.
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leafs-lover · 7 months
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Too Far Gone - The Tattoo
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A/N: I have the couple blurb requests and they should be out tomorrow, but I came across this piece I started a while ago and decided to finish. If you are reading the fic - consider this a bonus chapter (set after the yet to be released part 55), if not, don’t worry, this can be a stand alone piece. It doesn't have any plot, just pure smut.
Warnings: Smut (fingering, p in v, creampie), dirty talk, swearing, a slight dom/sub dynamic, not really edited
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Word Count: 1300
It’s almost midnight when Auston finally returns home after a long road trip, and he finds something he did not expect.
He stops in the doorway, noticing the bedside lamps are still on, casting macabre shadows up the wall behind her. His eyes narrow as they land on her wearing a tight navy-blue crop top, the material barely sufficient to cover the swell of her breasts poking out from underneath where it’s purposely pushed up. Her hair is up in a high pony, and she sits with knees bent, backs of her thighs on her heels.
“Hi baby.” Tia says so innocently. They both know this is nothing but.
“You’re awake.” The bag lands with a loud thud and Auston sweater quickly joins her pants on the floor, wrinkled and forgotten.
“I missed you.”
Tia spreads her legs opens a little bit more, putting her pussy on display for him. The warm glow from the bedside lamp hits her pussy lips, and her slick shines back perfectly for him. It’s at that moment Auston notices the bullet vibrator tossed on the duvet a few inches away and smiles, “missed you too.”
The bed dips as Auston crawls on the mattress until he is right in front of her, then puts one hand on her thigh, smirking as Tia continues to knead at her breast. Auston’s cock throbs as he watches and listens to the soft moans caught in her throat. He slowly draws his fingers along her pussy lips, coating them in the slick, then sinks two in, reveling in the sharp gasp that breaks through.
“Just like that.” Auston encourages her once he feels her hips roll and grind over his digits, all while her shirt gets tossed aside. “Keep going,” Auston repeats, gripping her hip to encourage the movements. Tia continues to tug at her nipples, rolling them through her fingers, doing all the things she spent the last week wishing Auston would do. Her breathes are heavy and sporadic, walls are tingling as she builds up to her second orgasm.
“Auston.” She stills her body and forces her eyes open. Her body aches in anticipation and even with his fingers buried, she still craves his touch, and finds herself wishing she’d never have to be without it again. “Fuck me please?”
It wasn’t going to take much once he saw her, but the desperation in her words makes him eager to please. He pulls his fingers out and kicks his trackpants down his thick thighs, cock already rock hard. He grabs at his cock and puts his other hand on her shoulder, preparing to lay her down.
“No.” Tia demands. She flips over and leans on her elbows and brings her ass up, then eyes to him over her shoulder. “Like this.”
Auston doesn’t dislike this position, he loves it. It comes with a perfect view and he can hit spots even deeper than usual. Tia tends to get off faster and harder than when he’s on top, and those sounds he has coming both sets of lips are unlike anything he’s ever heard. He loves everything about this position, except he can’t watch. And as much a he loves to find the spot that makes her squirm, the spot that has on occasion made her squirt all over his cock, the spot that makes her scream, he hates not being able to see it. That’s why he prefers this position in the bathroom, bent over the vanity as she looks at him through the mirror, but he hasn’t seen her in almost a week and the throb in his cock overpowers every desire.
They both groan in unison when Auston buries himself inside, then curse when he pulls out almost completely and pushes back in. He grabs at her hip and sets a fast and deep pace, the bed creaking with every thrust.
“Fuck. Yes.” Tia moans, only encouraging him to not stop until her ass is against his stomach, every millimetre of him buried in her walls. “Right there.” She grabs handfuls of the duvet and arches her back further, smudging her face against the white fabric.
“This what you wanted?” He punctuates with a firm thrust against her g-spot, then grins when she lets out a muffled scream.
He stops for a second and grabs the vibrator, and with his other hand he clenches her pony and yanks, pulling her back against his chest. The hum of her toy starts, but he doesn’t get a chance to press it to her swollen bud, something catches his eye. A simple tattoo. It’s small and tucked right behind her ear, if her hair was down, he wouldn’t even know it’s there.
Auston completely stops and gently soothes his thumb over the number 34, lined in black and filled with white ink. “When’d you get that?”
Heat floods her cheeks. It was an impulse decision, one that came after too many drinks at girls’ night. Tia doesn’t even remember suggesting it or why nobody said no, but Abby stayed behind to watch the kids while Tia, Emily and Becks ventured out the only parlour open at 11pm. When she saw it the next morning she had some regret, not because she dislikes it but because she was worried what Auston may think, branding herself with his number. She considered hiding it, and casually bringing up the idea to gauge his opinion, but at the last second decided it would be best to just rip the bandaid off.
“The day after you left.” She takes a deep breath, not because she is nervous but because dating an athlete often reveals how poor her cardio is. “What do you think?”
“I like it.” Auston quickly tells her, rubbing his thumb over the ink again.
“Really?” She starts. “You don’t think it makes me seem like a desperate fangirl, getting your number on me?”
“Not in the slightest.” He speaks softly, gently kissing her neck while avoiding the tattoo in case its still sensitive. “It’s hot.” He presses the vibrator to her swollen bud and continues gently pressing his lips to her neck. “I love it.”
Tia moans as he increases the speed and presses it harder against her clit. She gasps when he moves his hips, once again thrusting deep and hard. Her breasts bounce and her skin tingles from the lingering touch of his lips.
“Yeah?
“Yeah, you should wear your hair like that all the time.” Auston grunts deeply amid a rough thrust. “Make sure everyone knows that your mine.” Her tight walls start to pulsate around his cock. “That I get to fuck this pussy every night, fill you with my hot cum.” Her breathing has been replaced with whines and her legs are trembling so hard her ass shakes. “That’s what you want, right?” Auston thrusts so hard her vision floods with tears. “Isn’t it T?” The vibrator and his cock are perfectly in tune with each other, and she is practically rendered speechless, but manages a choked out ‘yes.’
“Then cum baby.” Auston demands. “Cum so I can fill you up. I know you want me to.”
It’s almost condescending the way he speaks, but Tia doesn’t mind - she knew what she was doing while preparing herself ready for his return. Auston continues to drive against her g-spot, her hungry walls greedily sucking him in until she reaches her peak. His other arm wraps around her shoulders and the two of them simultaneously erupt. The sound of the vibrator is drowned by her squeal as his sticky cum fills her pussy and she spills around his cock.
“Should greet me like that all the time.” Auston turns the vibrator off and drops it on the bed, continuing to pant heavily against her shoulder.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
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