#which I did but also some terrible angst slipped in there I'm sorry | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

raspberrilady · 9 months

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White Roses || William James Moriarty x Reader

a/n: Finally, here, a fic written with my friend as my hypewoman on this William piece, and me being a cheerleader on her Scaramouche fic. Ask her kindly and maaaybe she will translate a thing.

Word count: around 16,000 words divided into a prologue, 9 chapters and an epilogue. You might consider reading it on AO3

Treat this piece as an embodiment of my brianriot that was a sole thought of wanting to see a William with a soft, kind and a bit naïve lady. She will have her character development throughout the story, though. I just wanted some longer angst-fluff fic and it’s a bit dumb and silly and not that majestically written.

Warnings: Female reader, mentions of Christianity, too many scenes involving tea, not that good word choices. Translation isn’t my thing. Angst, fluff and suggestive fic.

Mary Hale isn't sure if she wants to wake her roommate up.

In her eyes, you look terrible and won't be able to get yourself presentable in the next ten minutes, when the next lesson will start. Your hair is tangled, your sleeping face bears a strange expression, and the bags under your eyes are dark. A book with an emerald cover loosely clasped in your hands betrays what [Name] [Surname] was doing all night.

For that, you blame all writers whose passionate, engaging novels keep you awake at abnormal hours. Late nights are the only quiet time in the dormitory. It's soundless enough to keep you focused and dark enough to finely hide dark blushes on your face in case your roommate woke up. She would still scold you for using the lamp, and the mood would be ruined, so you always keep the light low.

Mary Hale rolls her eyes and decides to leave you be. Either way, she doesn't know you well enough to care that much, even if you've shared a room for half a year. She spends her time perfecting her art of flirting outside the dormitory, and you... Well, she guesses you read a lot and don't mind showing up to class unprepared.

She couldn't be so careless in her appearance as you as she doesn't plan to waste her time on books much longer. She will find a wealthy lover and never lift a finger again to work, let herself sink in tons of compliments and be adored by the man of her life. That is her dream, which she devotes herself to.

She leaves the room almost without slamming the door.

Mary has no intention of being late for class. Math isn't that much important as the young professor who is an exceptional candidate for her lover. The thought of a forbidden, somewhat indecent relationship curves the corners of her mouth into a mirthful grin.

Huh. And she is surprised that this kind of thing is preventing you from sleeping, even if only on paper.

Chapter I

You are late.

William James Moriarty notes the attendance with a quick glance as he enters the room. Several seats remain empty: you and another student, who always sits in the first row—August Hearst—are missing. He also notices two unfamiliar ladies, unenrolled students who showed a sudden interest in trigonometry after seeing William. Amazing.

He puts on a gentle professor's smile, closing the door behind him and its hinges click quietly.

„Good morning. I welcome you all to the next class,” he says, standing in the middle of the room. Everyone raises and responds to his greeting. “Before we move on to the next subject, please take a look at your exams and my commentary on them. If you have any inquiries, don't hesitate to ask me. Unfortunately, two people did not pass and-”

The door creaks loudly, although you've been careful when opening it. You slip into the room and with a hasty “I'm sorry...” take your seat.

“...And that is why they will have to attend supplementary classes to catch up. This test was difficult, but I assure each of you that the knowledge you’ll gain after it will be useful in the future.”

He takes the corrected exams. His shoes clatter against a wooden floor as he hands in the exams one by one, congratulating successful students and giving knowing looks to those that don’t have math as their forte.

“Miss [Name],” his soothing tone doesn't sound threatening, yet the shiver runs down your spine. He places a test in front of you, and you notice how your calculations on the first page are almost completely crossed out. “I am inclined to suspect that the day you wrote your test was not your finest moment. Most of the data had already been misspelt in the first lines. Could it be that something was distracting you?”

You look at him with surprise and shake your head vigorously. Professor Moriarty most likely knows that he is (not only) your biggest distraction, especially since in (not only) your eyes he is perfect. Pulled straight out of a novella. Romantic one, probably. You could point which book.

Not that you are absurdly bad at all these calculations and logical thinking. But one could mess this badly only if there was something else involved, like immunity to handsome men.

And yet he plays ignorant and thus makes you even more nervous.

It isn't easy to look for an excuse. After all, you can't really say 'Hiring a handsome, young teacher as a maths was a fatal mistake by the university' or something along these lines.

“I've been having trouble sleeping lately...” Your confession is half-hearted, as you stare stubbornly at the test result which almost makes you tear up.

“Oh? Well, I can't argue that a good novel might keep one awake better than a math book,” he says with a benevolence that makes you even more embarrassed, and you blush. “Perhaps a tea of St John's wort or chamomile will be able to help you.”

You gently turn toward him and nod shyly. He smiles and ends up handing out tests. Then, he goes back to the blackboard and writes down the few formulas that caused the most problems.

Seeing how trivial your mistakes were, you start to question why you are here. Well, you somehow like the classes and your parents wanted you to take up a chance and study. And, of course, William teaches here, but it must've math, that you can't understand at all.

You sigh. How unromantic.

***

For the rest of the lecture, you've been sitting quietly, jotting down the most crucial things. Or you've tried to, as your notes started to fill up with mindless scribbles next to some formulas. You are relieved to get up from your seat when the class’s time is up.

You move towards the door along with the other classmates when you hear your name called.

“Miss [Surname]!” You don't need to turn around to realize that the voice belongs to Professor William. Even that bad mark on your exam didn't make you resent him out of spite, you notice with another beat of your heart as you approach him.

“Yes...?”

“I would like to remind you once more about the supplementary classes,” he says calmly, observing your reaction. He could point to the anxiety in your slightly widened eyes and a stab of frustration in the way your lips twitched slightly. William smiled and was mindful that it is time to change the topic. “Apropos, Miss [Surname], I have heard that the second volume of the 'Taste of Enchantment' has appeared in our library.”

Now William watches as a surprise takes over your body as the bashful redness start to spread on your face, he considers this state better than your silent puffing and pouting.

…

How does he know about this book?

'Taste of Enchantment' is an average romance with an awkward title. The protagonist is a dull lady, but not in a way you could describe yourself, as she was too perfect. You would drop the book by the first three chapters if not for the main character’s significant other, who, as you’ve decided, quite resembles William.

“How did you know I read the first volume?” You ask with an uncertain, polite smile.

William hums lightly. “I happen to be very interested in the literature my students read. I noticed you recently with the book, so I decided to try it myself.”

...That is mortifying. You know so many books and your lecturer had to caught you reading this mediocre crap. The ending of the first volume may have been quite good, you admit it yourself, but overall it was...

…Yeah, mediocre crap is an adequate way to describe it.

“If I had known, I would have had in hand a more interesting novel than this one...,” you chuckle to shake off the awkward feeling and lower your gaze on your watch. There is still some time to eat breakfast. You did a slight curtsey. “Excuse me, professor, but I will be going now. Thank you for your time.”

“Of course, miss [Surname]. I hope to see you in the supplementary classes,” you nod, already resigned to your fate, and he smiles as you take your leave. It sweetens the fact you will have even more limited free time.

If he had stopped you, he would see a scarlet blush covering your cheeks before you got out of the room. Your throat is dry, and any further words would have died on your tongue.

Almost with relief, you leave William's classroom.

'Taste of Enchantment'...

The blush again douses your face, and you close your eyes while rebuking yourself quietly. You couldn’t believe that a crappy romance book that would rather suit a somewhat-read teenager would make your heart beat fast and not because of the frustrating plot.

And you wanted to be a model student, [Name]?

Chapter II

Never before in your life have you been so nervous yet excited for a lesson to start.

Even though you are theoretically here as punishment for not studying enough math or just not being talented enough to master it effortlessly, it is hard to get the nervous smile off your face. You try to not let your fluster show, tightening your fingers on the covers of your books.

With your free hand, you reach for a door.

The class is almost empty and the sight of it reminds you of a lively marked suddenly going vacant. It’s unusual and leaves a nostalgic feeling behind.

“Welcome back, Miss [Name],” William's velvety voice greets you as soon as you walk through the door, and the world around seemed to dim in his presence. “I'm glad you found time for me.”

“O... of course,” you reply hazily, sitting down by the desk that is closer to the blackboard than your usual seat. You don’t want to look impolite, would you take a sit that far away, when there are only two people in the class...

...Or rather, there should have been two people, because the second student—another failure in terms of math—hasn't arrived yet.

“Ah,” William notices your unspoken question. “You are currently the first one to arrive. The most punctual. I'll admit I have no idea whether Mr Hearst will join us. There are three minutes left before the scheduled time... But,” the smile he gives you is charming enough, you can't focus on his words, “we will somehow manage together either way, won't we, Miss [Name]?”

You smile shyly, only nodding in response. You don't like how you can't do anything about your slightly flushed cheeks. Math, math, math. You came here to learn math. Not for your handsome teacher.

You can't let yourself romanticize the situation and face the cruel reality you’re failing your classes.

You spread your books out on the desk. Once you're holding a pen in your hand, William sighs softly and begins explaining everything about trigonometry from scratch. He asks you questions, and you can feel the attention on you, which you both don't want and... somehow, makes you happy.

You solve a few tasks under his watchful eye and encouraging smile. They are easier than what was on the test, but Williams tries to convince you that the solutions are to be crafted with the same scheme.

You are absorbed with the paper in front of you, occasionally biting your lip.

While you’re absorbed with the paper in front of you, William observes watchfully the changes in your expression: from a bit of confusion to concentration and then a smile of satisfaction and surprise as you write down the answer. He approaches you and leans over to take a look at what you have written.

Your tense by the light feeling of his warm breath. He’s so close. You can discern the light smell of roses. Is this cologne?

If anyone else were in his shoes, you would be terrified by this proximity. Now, somehow, you aren't.

“Mhm, both first exercises are correct, but in the third, you have used the wrong formula.” He hums right next to your ear. His voice is quiet, almost coming out as a whisper.

You press your lips together in a narrow line as your cheeks become even redder. You mutter something under your breath, correcting the data. You don't dare to look at him, because your heart’s beat fastened and you don’t want it to jump out of your chest or stop.

…How delightful.

“Professor Moriarty...?” You whisper, drawing his attention back to you from his wandering thoughts.

“Forgive me Miss [Na-]” SHHHHHHHHHHH!! His apology is interrupted by the creak of the door opening. William straightens up and turns around. At the threshold stand two—...two?—late students; Mary, your roommate, and a boy whose locks of chestnut-coloured hair you've been seeing in class around five rows in front of you.

“I'm sorry for being late!” Mary Hale giggles cutely through her apology. She notices William and she smiles charmingly in his direction. She hadn't been invited to extra classes—but who would have a good reason to deny an eager student extra maths lessons?

Still, even as your beloved professor gracefully moves away from your desk, you can smell his cologne. You shift your gaze to the newcomers, distracting yourself from the scent of roses.

Mary greets the professor who answers her with the same courtesy. The man who you barely knew from the classes, hesitantly takes a seat next to you, bowing his head slightly in silent “good morning”.

You smile timidly in return.

“Of course, professor!” The melodic voice of Mary steals your attention once again. You glance again at the... pair that looks very good on each other sides. It pains you how the golden locks of Mary's hair give her a princess look, that matches William's gentlemanly appearance.

…Hm. They look like the main couple from the “Taste of Enchantment”, and you can't help but pout with dissatisfaction.

...Well, either way, William seems to like you a bit more than her! Probably. You guess. You hoped so. Maybe you are seeing whatever you want to see, and want to cheer yourself up, but... You don't know what you would do if you stopped using your imagination.

The warmth on your previously red cheeks suddenly seems to prickle, just as ice dabbed on your skin.

Mary is more... more than you. You can't put your finger on the source of her charm, but you suspect that her big blue eyes, almond-shaped face and feminine curves have something to do with it. Her voice is always layered with honey, and even sweeter words can turn any man into her lover. Hm... Well, maybe you can tell why was she popular, but that doesn't make you any happier.

How can William not resist this charm? His aura that spellbinds people is as strong as hers, and the effects are well-known throughout the academy.

…

You don’t notice the glaze of tears that forms over your eyes before a gentle nudge snaps you out of your reverie.

Someone's hand is extended discreetly towards you with a flower-embroidered handkerchief between their fingers. The consoling gaze of your desk companion is the only thing that stops you from bursting into tears. You really can't understand how can you be so oversensitive about the scenario going over in your head.

“Everything will be alright,” you hear the warm voice of a stranger. “...The very fact that you are still trying to understand math, means that you are a very strong woman.”

You take the handkerchief and wipe away the traces of traces. “...Thank you.” With a gesture, your companion signals you can keep the piece of this beautiful material to yourself. You nod your head in another thank you. “We're both strong, even if our grades say otherwise.”

He laughs heartily. “And that is very good thinking, dear lady!”

“Miss [Name], Mr Hearst,” the two of you look at your professor who must have finished talking with Mary. At William's heavy gaze, Mr Hearst moves away to give a decent distance between you. “Let me start the class properly, please. I will write out some formulas and instructions on the board for you. Try to solve them and bring me your calculations tomorrow. And now, going to the further topic...”

You can feel your eyes on yourself more often than normally. You catch William's gaze lingering on you. Your heart is beating loudly, but not in a joyful rhythm. It was something between a melody of uncertainty and melancholy, that doesn't allow you to raise your gaze. No, you can't do that without hope that helped you today to get up at an absurdly early hour... Absurdly early hour for you, 8 am.

…

You are aware of your jealousy. Comparing William and Mary to the characters from your new favourite book completely ruined your mood, but it was only your fault. You should stop overthinking and get a grip.

You finish the lesson by noting down the formulas. It is hard to do it correctly, because you've been avoiding looking at William, and the fact that he is constantly standing next to the blackboard doesn't help.

The chime of a bell at the end of class sounds angelic.

You cram all your belongings—two books, a fountain pen and a notebook with some pages unintentionally crumpled—into your bag and hurry to the exit. You arrive at the door frame so quickly, that Mary and Mr Hearst have only raised from their seats, and you even have the nerve to pretend that you don't hear your name called.

You open the door and, although no one can say that you are running, your every step is an escape from a certain professor and his classroom. You should keep your joy in books and distancing yourself from Mr Moriarty is the first step to achieving that.

…

Your room. Only now, as you're sitting down on your bed, you begin to analyse your behaviour. You can feel your heart pounding hard, and not just because of your “run”.

Your eyes tear up over again at the memory of your last lecture, and you sink back onto your pillows.

“It's so foolish,” you think. You can't understand why the sight of Mary standing next to William had put you so off balance. Was it because of your naive enchantment? Or was it simply your imagination putting the two of them in the place of characters from a popular novella?

You’re being unfair to Mary right now. The guilt will eat you fully if you ever begin to be rude to her just because of your unfulfilled fantasy. You groan, burying your face in a cushion.

Just as you were about to buy the new volume of “Taste of Enchantment” not so long ago, all you want now is to burn every copy of the book that makes you go through a mental breakdown.

...No, even this book, no matter how cheesy, doesn't deserve that.

Someone knocks on the door. The sudden sound makes you tense up, but you get up after the second knock. With a hasty movement, you wipe your watery eyes and adjust the folds of your dress.

“I... I'm coming,” you mutter, praying that your voice won't falter. Before reaching the door, you glance at your reflection in the mirror and bite your lip at the sight of reddened eyes and cheeks, and you believe you make a sad sight.

After opening the door, the person in front of you surprises you: Mr Hearts, the kind soul who had spent the last moments of class with you. He’s not too tall a young man with dark hair and a gentle face. His cheeks look smooth and squeezable and are slightly flushed, maybe from the embarrassment that comes from the indecency of a man visiting a woman’s room alone.

His laugh is a little awkward as he holds up the loose sheets of paper he has brought with him. “I sincerely apologize for the disturbance, Miss [Name], but... You left some of your notes behind, after leaving so quickly and... They might be important.”

You press your lips into a timid smile. A new wave of embarrassment washes over you at the memory of your behaviour. You feel stupid, knowing that this man took his time to find your room and return your notes, because of… you.

“Oh... Thank you kindly,” you smile shyly, taking the papers from his hands. “Would you like to come in for something to drink?” You invite him uncertainly and move away from the door, but Mr Hearts stops you.

“There is no need, but I appreciate the offer. I came here unannounced, and I believe you might need some space today,” the student smiles a little more confidently, and you notice how charming he looks with such an expression. He must be popular with women.

“Then please let me repay you with a cup of tea someday,” you say. “I feel indebted to you.”

He chuckles. “Alright, lovely comrade in arms of trigonometry.”

“…That’s a long nickname.”

“Then, is ‘lovely comrade’ alright?” He offers, but he isn’t suave in these kinds of talks and you know his throat is going dry. You know the pain of this fellow introvert.

“…My name is enough.”

“Just your name?”

You huff at the way he squints his eyes and burst out in a friendly chuckle. “If you insist.”

“In that case, I would like to be called by just a name too. I’m August Hearst.”

“Thank you, Mr August. Oh, and since you are here...” You open one of the drawers and take out a white handkerchief which roses you have embroidered by hand. “I would like you to keep it... As in exchange for your support in class and your handkerchief.”

You hand him the handkerchief and have to push it aggressively into his hands before he finally accepts it.

Chapter III

August Hearst is a delightful gentleman.

You come to this conclusion in the next several days filled with shared classes. He's been taking the seat next to you whenever possible, greeted you every day with an amiable word and even a kinder smile, and tried to accompany you at each dinner.

Your dream of William Moriarty and the secret romance have been slowly distancing itself, when you were with August. Now you know that all the things that happened in your head were... too surreal to come to this reality. Out of your reach.

If you've learned anything from your romance books, it would be the obligation to back out in the name of others' happiness. And the main character in this story might be Mary.

You smile unconvincingly to yourself.

“[Name],” your attention returns to August again, who just finished tucking his books into his bag and is ready to go. He puts apologies in his mouth when he informs you that he isn't able to walk you back to the dorm today. “I'm sorry about that, [Name], but I promised someone...”

“Have no worry, August,” you interrupt him gently, getting up from your seat. You walked through the oaken door of the literature hall, where, for the last hour and a half, thirty students experienced the torment of detailed interpretation of ancient texts. No one knew there why have they chosen this subject to have scheduled obligatory amount of hours. You squeeze the textbooks closer to your chest. “I was going to excuse myself as well and check something in a library...”

Your companion gives you a nod and visible relief brightens his face. “You take the weight off my heart”.

The farewells exchanged, Mr Hearst disappears with his acquaintances from your sight, and you step into a wide, empty corridor, whose marble ornaments reflect late sunlight and some candles spaced around the way.

It isn't a rare sight—after evening classes it isn’t easy to find any students, who would still want to be in the building after a dozen (or so) hours of focused learning.

You are not here to learn more though. You are walking to get to your favourite entertainment, the world of fictional romance. The books are expensive, and getting your hands on many of them by the privilege of being a student here is something of your guilty pleasure, you wouldn't admit to Mr Hearst.

You won't tell him right away, no. You don’t want him to see how almost the only genre you read is romance. If he finds out, he might think you have too rigoristic standards and that isn't true (or, you hope so). It certainly wouldn't encourage him to make a move if he is interested in you...

…

...Is he interested in you?

…

The library, as you expected, is empty.

You relax immediately. In front of you stand many bookcases filled with stories that only waited for someone who will get enchanted by a pretty cover and gorgeously scribbled titles. Your hands ache to get themselves to work and find another masterpiece.

You keep a slow pace as you walk between racks and read the catchy titles. Sometimes you take a book from its place to leaf through pages, guessing if it's interesting enough to take it back to your dorm by the lines that catch your eye.

Your eyes dart upwards and you find yourself staring at your favourite series and its newest volume, whose charm probably wouldn't understand even your favourite Mr Hearst.

The book you’ve been looking for stands maliciously high.

You don't know what kind of devil was climbing these shelves, but he had a ladder and set another volume higher than your hands could reach. The entire weight of your body falls on the toes of your feet, on which you stand to be taller, closer. It's not enough to reach the shelf.

Yet you manage to get it.

You feel a passive touch on your back, but your attention is sabotaged by a hand above you that grabs the book. You turn around quickly, and the rack next to you helps you to remain balanced.

“Is everything alright, miss [Name]?” Asks a familiar voice of the texture of honey and chocolate. “I thought you might need a helping hand.”

Professor William James Moriarty.

Your eyes met with the shiny crimson of your professor. It's your favourite shade of red, but you can't help but think that they are a bit darker than you remember as if they're covered with a cloud of smoke or heavy emotions.

The book is still in his hands when you greet him.

“Professor Moriarty, good evening...!” You say, your curtsy bow looks and feels stiffer than you would want it to.

“I wasn't expecting anyone here at this hour,” he admits, smiling gently. He looks around the library. “Is Mr Hearst not with you?”

You shake your head. “No,” and add curiously: “Shall I go find him?”

“It won't be necessary. It's nothing urgent,” William assures you, taking a step back from you. The light rose aroma doesn’t leave you though. Was he that close to you if you could recognize such a delicate scent? “To say the truth, I am a little jealous.”

You get choked by a surprise.

“Je... Jealous? You, professor?” And another unsaid question: “Why?”

William's polite laugh rings in your ears.

“Of course. Miss [Name], it's very inappropriate for me to tell this to such a charismatic person as yourself, but I feel a bit lonely, if I dare to say, without your attention in my classes.”

“Ah,” I should've paid more attention to the classes... Are my grades that bad? “I'm sorry. I will focus more on my studies.”

“Let me rephrase this,” he corrects himself immediately as if he could find the doubts just by looking at you. “I would like to request your valued company more often. I found myself dissatisfied we couldn't find time to share a discussion on literature. And there comes an invitation: would you care to join me for a cup of tea if you could spare me an hour of your time?”

You gape at him.

What??

You can feel your body growing warmer and slowly breaking down, like an overheated machine. Your legs are going to give out, even though you want to fly with the butterflies in your stomach. That feeling has taken your ability to say even one word, so you just nod, hoping that this motion will express all of your excitement in a very polite manner.

William gets closer to you. He stands close enough to cover up your whole vision.

You think about moving away, but the back of your shoe is already touching the bookcase behind and your shoulders almost lean on the wall of books. William's hand reaches for the book next to your head, closing you in a half-embrace that limits your movements and the will to escape.

You can still turn around. Or start to scream if you want to get out of here. But...

William cups your cheek and tilts your head enough to have you looking into his eyes. You could see him clearly and be well aware of his gaze that wanders on your face with delight and some kind of excitement, although he keeps the gentleman's shtick that is always expected from every nobleman or professor.

But your observing time has ended, as you feel something on your lips.

The cover of the volume you were trying to reach before is pressed to your mouth. William is still looking at you with warmth, but he's... closer. You can't see his face anymore, mostly hidden by the book.

Your lips are being separated only by the cover and two hundred sheets of paper.

You hear a whisper against the other side of the book that you can’t catch the words, but it’s meaningless—you cannot focus on the same voice you have listened to for hours, relishing the opportunity to get to know such a wonderful voice.

You feel the cover pressed against your lips stay there for a moment, and then encounter the disappointment that William has moved away from you, although he still holds all of your attention.

...A kiss? Was it an indirect kiss? Was it just your illusion, a daydream, even though the untouchable evidence indicates otherwise? Are you going crazy?

You no longer have any perception in your fingers as William gently places the volume in your hands. With a kiss planted on the back of your hand, he bids you farewell. "I wish you a wonderful night, Miss [Name]. Enjoy your reading,” with a smile he leaves the library.

It is long after sunset.

You arrive at your room with a foggy mind.

You don’t open the book, which you set down carefully on the bedside table, although every glance you cast at it makes you shudder.

After two hours you fall asleep. Mary hasn't returned to her room for the night.

...

You wake up abruptly, finding the alarm clock ringing too loud.

Your cheeks burn red as you look around the room and glance at the book next to the bed, feeling your face heat up even more.

You walk briskly to the bathroom to get ready for today's class. You cast a glance at your roommate's bedspread. It is in the same condition as yesterday—a black dress and an ironed shirt lie on a tidy beige bed. The history textbook doesn't seem to have been touched and the box of new slippers Mary had been excited about recently hasn't even been opened.

“She didn't come back for the night...?” It is nothing new, yet for some reason, you feel a pang of uneasiness. You shake your head. She probably fell asleep at someone’s else house. Nevertheless, it’s painful to wake up alone in the room you should be sharing with someone else.

You glance at a book and put a hand on its cover. Somehow, the hope pours into you like a warm honey.

…

“You seem to be in a good mood today, [Name],” Mr Hearst smiles at you, sitting opposite you with his plate of food.

“Is that so? I just feel… lucky today.”

“I wish I had your happiness today. Give me some, please.”

“It’s mine,” you laugh, and he squints his eyes at you in a playful annoyance. His smile looks a little strained, so you decide to ask. “Well then, is something wrong?”

He looks as if he wants to count his misfortunes on his fingers but bites his tongue and sighs. “It’s nothing that critical,” and you imagine another idea came to his mind, but before he says it, Professor William comes to your table.

“I apologize for the interruption,” he says in a worried voice that suggests that something is wrong, “but could I have a word with Miss [Name]? It's an urgent matter.”

“Is something wrong, Professor...?” You throw an apologetic glance at August and move away from the table. Could it be that he wanted to bring up the subject of the previous meeting...? Well, you have agreed to have tea together, but in your spirit, you hope he won't ask for it yet. You wanted to prepare for it... Mentally. Perhaps even arrange a few false scenarios in your head, just in case, as it sometimes enhances your courage.

However, it is not what William had in mind.

“Have you seen Miss Hale? She didn't turn up for our last class, although she promised me personally that she would.”

“Mary...?” You ponder, and the sting of uneasiness from the morning returns to poke your heart. “She didn't come back last night... Maybe she stayed with, um, her friends, but I haven't spoken to her. We've been passing each other a lot lately...”

Within another hour you land in William James Moriarty's temporary office, nervously clutching your skirt and stewing in an atmosphere of concern.

Mary has disappeared.

You don’t yet know if something was going on with her, but the general confusion has sensitised your nerves.

“Here, tea,” a cup of Earl Grey appeared in your hand. It warms your hands. “How are you feeling?”

You take a sip of tea, which is a bit too hot, and gaze into space expectantly. Politeness and etiquette require you to say ‘alright’, but you couldn't think of anything of anything other than your housemate.

You start to regret not talking to her more before as you would have a better idea of what places she goes to.

“Truly...” Your voice cracks. “Truly, no one knows what happened to Mary? She... She was still in class yesterday after all! She was asking me for notes for a test, and.... and now nobody knows where she is.”

William shakes his head and takes the cup from your hands before your grip loosens. He stands at the side of the sofa you are sitting on and leans towards you.

“I won’t make empty promises that everything will be alright,” he says, not taking his eyes off yours, “but you must believe that I will do everything in my power to get Miss Hale back to the dorm in a safe condition.”

You nod gratefully but awkwardly.

“Thank you very much, Professor Moriarty.”

“There is yet another matter we need to discuss. Miss [Name], it would be very dangerous for you to be alone at a time like this. We don’t yet know the cause of Miss Hale's disappearance, so there would be no one there to help you,” you bite your lip so as not to interrupt him and tell him that Mary was not much of a help anyway, “in case of an accident....”

“Will I be moved to somewhere else, then?”

“As all the rooms are occupied and the two other female students cannot be separated either (We wouldn't want to leave either of them alone, would we? That would defeat the purpose). I made a proposal to the management, which will only be executed with your permission.”

You look at him curiously.

“A proposal?”

William smiles.

“You will move into my property... Until the matter resolves.”

CHAPTER IV

You aren’t sure how he did it, but everything has gone just the way he wanted.

Somehow, you got allowed to move to Mr Moriarty. You had never heart of management pulling a move like that—did they really put your safety above the moral principles they were so protective of?—so until you stood before his property, you weren’t fully convinced you were going to move.

You take a deep breath, however, this doesn’t calm you down at all.

The door in front of you opens before William can reach its handle. Into them appears a man resembling your professor with the same blonde hair colour and remarkable scarlet eyes. Your gaze wanders between William and his likeness.

“This is my younger brother, Louis,” William introduced the man, clearly amused by your confusion.

His brother...!

“Pleased to meet you,” he bows slightly.

“Me too, sir...” you reply with the same curtsy.

“Allow me,” he carefully takes over your luggage. You mouth a "thank you" and he brings over the bags without much difficulty and disappears down the corridor. He is back in a minute and by the speed at which he took care of things you think he is one hell of a butler.

“Before we move on to breakfast, brother William wanted me to show you around the estate,” Louis announces, greeting you with a tray of fresh tea in his hand. You wondered if you were being treated too well here. “There's no need to worry. It will be a short trip.”

“Alright,” you nod and, after finding that the tea is not that hot, take a sip of it. A pleasant warmth hugged you from the inside. “This is such a delicious tea...”

Louis smiles because William asked him to be very kind to you.

...Although he still feels that no one is worthy of so much attention from his brother.

…

“This is a library,” the door creaks open and another wonder of the world reveals itself to your eyes. It’s much smaller than the library at the university, but it seems in spotless condition and has more novels and math books. There are maps, history books and psychological documents too. You ignore the staccato in your chest. “Miss [Name], I heard you like books.”

“Ah-!” You look at him surprised. “I do indeed love them. Did you hear about it from Professor William?”

“Yes,” he replies, and the indifference in his voice slowly begins to break. “Brother William said the books brought you closer together or so.”

Well, books were the reason why you thought about Professor Moriarty so often. He was well-read, so you had insightful chit-chats about the literature.

The scene from the library invades your brain once again. William still hasn’t confronted you about the kiss or anything. The tension that magazined in your muscles in the last few days is almost painful.

Louis grunts quietly. “You are invited to come here whenever you would like to. Brother Wi—"

“Oh, is that Miss [Name]?” Another voice interrupts Louis’ words, and a man in a grey suit seems to rise from under the ground and appear before you. Optimism, elegance and style—a lethal mix for sensitive hearts—emit in his every word and movement, and you can immediately tell that the visitor has a much more sociable life than you. “She is even more lovely than I imagined.”

“Miss [Name] This is James," Louis introduces the blond man, and he makes a curt nod.

He smiles, grasping your hand in an almost theatrical way. “At your service,” he said, winking at you. He then shifted his attention to Louis. “Are you showing her around the mansion?”

Louis nods affirmatively.

“We have only just started, but Brother William asked for a brief recce for Miss [Name].”

“I can gladly do that if you want to,” James offers. “Don't blame me, but, in my opinion, there are too many guys here. And a woman here,” for stressing the term he gets a chastising look from Louis, “is something unheard of! You have to prepare everything for our wonderful breakfast, isn't that right?”

Louis thought for a moment and sighed.

He turns to you. “Miss [Name]. Would you mind if Mr James took care of you for the next twenty minutes? I'm quite needed to prepare the meal.”

“Of course not,” You replied immediately, not wanting to be a burden to Louis, who seemed to take care of the whole household on his own. You pondered why an aristocrat and the brother of a professor decided to take on such a role.

“Lovely,” James stands right next to you, ready to make a quick round around the property. He looks at you with a glint in his eye. “So, shall we start with the garden? It would be worth introducing Fred to you and the atmosphere there is just.... muah,” he kisses his fingertips.

Louis moved in the opposite direction to you. “She is… okay,” he admits to himself in thought as he walks through the main hall to get to the dining room. He isn’t sure if okay is enough to hoard so much of Brother William’s attention. “Ah, that's right. I should tell Moran to not—.“

—Slam!!

With a mighty step comes Moran, who has terrible timing. Although Louis hopes he won’t notice you by the breakfast, the man’s gaze almost automatically goes in your direction as you walk out the door with James.

He manages to catch your curious eye.

A smile stretches his lips.

He approaches you with a wry grin, and you carefully scrutinise him with your eyes. You have to admit that he is handsome, however he seems to be more Mary's type, judging by the looks of the men she’d been hanging out with. You bite the inside of your cheek at the thought of your roommate.

As Moran approaches you, James grows instantly gloomier as if his entrance was some kind of a bad joke you can’t help but sight upon hearing. “What do you want?”

“Is there a problem, Bond?” He rolls his eyes. “I just wanted to say hello,” he turns towards you, and a charming smile appears on his lips. “Sebastian Moran, it's a pleasure to me—"

“Oh, there you are, Miss [Name].” Moran's statement is interrupted by William's voice coming from behind the dark-haired man. You get a feeling that Moran is disliked here, or they are all trying to bully him on purpose. Whether it’s a daily occurrence, but the man only smirks at William’s arrival.

“Professor Moriarty...”

“Breakfast is ready. I would suggest going back inside,” he smiles, sending Sebastian a warning look.

James sighs a little disappointed.

“I will go look for Fred in that case...”

***

The breakfast passes in a pleasant atmosphere, thanks to which you get acquainted with the residents of the mansion. They are very... lively. The meal started with the petty banter exchanged between Moran and Bond and ended with everyone getting busy with their duties. Thanks to them all, you’ve been able to take a little break from the overwhelming reality, for which you were very grateful.

After the tea, you move to the living room at the request of William. You sit down in the armchair opposite him, taking a book borrowed from James. There is a comfortable silence between you, accompanied by the sound of pages being turned. Your body relaxes. You haven't had many opportunities to do so lately, so you appreciate being able to rest at William's side and even hope that such moments could be endless...

“How do you find it here?”

You look up from your book and smile.

“It's lovely here,” you reply without a second thought. There is nothing you would complain about. “And everyone is very nice. I didn't know you, professor, had a brother! Mr Louis is a truly outstanding chef... Any chance he could share the recipe of those tarts that were on the table?”

William chuckles, and you put the book aside. Fictional romances are interesting, but talking to William could draw you in even more. “Of course. Although... I don't know if I'd like it myself.”

You twitch with nervousness.

“O-oh,” you corrected the folds of your skirt, somehow not having the strength to look at William. “If I ask for too much, then, of course—"

“I apologize. I phrased it wrong,” William interrupts you softly, placing his hand gently on your shoulder. Since when did he sit so close to you? Just as you remembered, the floral scent that was in the library strikes you once more. “That's not what I meant.”

He grunts and straightens up, shifting his hand from your shoulder to the palms of your hands.

“The truth is, I have an issue,” he smiles weakly, and your heart leaps with emotion. William trusts you that much to speak freely about his problems? “And it consists in the fact that I have never known what you take interest in,” saying this, he lies. “We’ll certainly give you the recipe but rather as in exchange. I’d love to learn much more about you, so you will be able to count on me even more.”

You choke on your tea.

“I...” Your voice is hoarse and you have no idea how should you respond with your tongue tied with a stir. “I am not sure if it is possible to make me even more dependent on you, Professor. Especially as I am living in your house for the moment, and I’ve been treated with nothing but kindness.”

“Yet I am even more infatuated with you when you’re here,” William whispers.

He dangerously closes the distance. He teases you, moving closer and closer to you more and more slowly and not allowing you to look away from him.

If before, in the school library, you were separated by a book, now there is not one.

…

There is Louis.

Louis knocks on the room and makes you jump away from William to the other end of the sofa. William looks as if he is suppressing a chuckle before turning to his brother.

“Brother William, Miss [Name], the carriage has been prepared,” he says, bowing in a butler manner. “Mr James and Mr Moran are already waiting downstairs.”

“Professor Moriarty, are we going somewhere?”

William takes another sip of tea, seeming completely unmoved in contrast to you. He’s calm yet cannot stop himself from looking up from the brim of his book to watch your reaction.

“We are going to the city, Miss [Name].”

CHAPTER V

London is bustling at this hour. The streets are filled with carriages, finely dressed people stroll along the pavements and children run around them. The image spreading before you had something magical about it, even though it represented the everyday life of the capital's inhabitants.

“Miss [Name]?” William's voice snaps you out of your reverie. You turn an offered arm. You feel shy from the gesture, but you politely accept it.

“...Professor, where are we going?” You ask upon noticing that you are heading to the richer neighbourhoods. Even if someone doesn’t know London very well, the gap between each zone is striking. The buildings here are prettier and you gape at the picturesque area.

“To the tailor,” he says simply, stopping in front of an exclusive-looking shop window.

You freeze in spirit. The displayed gowns are beautiful, richly embellished, and certainly sewn from the highest quality material. You swallow your saliva, glancing uncertainly at Moriarty. You are sure that your money wouldn’t let you afford a little scrape of the fabric, not when it all goes on books.

“Professor Moriarty... I'm afraid it's not for my budget...” You laughed awkwardly.

“Consider it a gift from me. We don’t know how much time we’ll be lucky to share, yet a fine dress might be required if the guests will visit the mansion.”

“I... I don't know if I can accept your gift...” You hesitate. “I am grateful, but, I… Just can’t. I am not accustomed to such gifts and I won’t be ever able to repay you a gift like that.”

“I insist,” he says but it doesn’t convince you. William sighs. “Then, how about a deal?” He suggests. You perk up and that’s not something you should have done because a lady mustn’t be involved in such atrocious activities. “I will buy you a dress, and as... As compensation of sorts, you will show me your favourite place. You’ve been living not too far away from here, isn’t that so?”

“This is not—"

“This is a very fair exchange, Miss [Name]," he interrupts you, knowing what you wanted to say. You press your lips into a narrow line. It is a bad idea, however, seeing how persistent William is...

“If you insist...”

“I very much insist,” he replies, satisfied with your answer. He then smiles as if he had realised something. “One more thing, Miss [Name]. I think we should address each other by our first names for a while if we don't want to stir up gossip. What will people think when someone discovers that an unmarried woman is staying in a house full of strange men? We should give the impression of family.”

...William could not have cared less about the public opinion of him in this situation.

He almost pushes you through the door into the dressmaker's shop. By the time you blink, you are surrounded by a garland of women. One of them speaks to William, and the other gets a signal to take your measurements. You hold your breath as they do so.

Once everything is written down, you and William could move on.

...

“Professor Moriarty...”

“Once again, [Name]. I believe you can manage to call me by name. Only then will I listen to you.”

“Mr William...”

“Almost there.”

“…William.” You say in a half-hearted voice. Saying his name out loud is much more difficult than in your head. “Are you... Are you sure it's not too much? All those accessories... The outfit alone must cost a fortune.”

“If I am sure of anything, it is that it is all money was well spent.”

“…I don’t concur.”

William smiled at your words and took a sip of ginger tea. You’ve been having an awful lot of tea parties lately. The taste of this brew is no match for the one Louis brewed, but it is certainly one of the local delicacies.

The tea and cake shop you are in is one of the most famous establishments in the city. The upper terrace—where you are now—is open to those with money. It’s not one of the more expensive venues, but certainly one of the more charming.

Despite the hour, there are almost no customers.

“Does the dessert not suit your tastes?” William prompts, looking at your plates.

You both have slices of fresh strawberry tart that was made with a thin, soft sponge cake, a layer of heavy cream and sweet and sour strawberry jam in between.

A teapot of tea is constantly warmed on a porcelain stand, and cups in floral patterns stand right next to your plates. Vases of freshly squeezed juices and water were placed on the table next to you.

It is the most varied afternoon tea you've been to recently. And everything is delicious.

“No, I like it very much”' you reply, quickly scooping up a larger piece of cake, which you gracefully shove into your mouth that of course you had to choke on it.

“I'm very concerned about your ability to get into trouble,” William says handing you a glass of water that helped you to swallow the cake.

“It's not that everything I do is that chaotic.” You try to explain, taking a sip of tea, and forgetting that the jug is constantly heated doesn’t help your case.

“Did you burn yourself?” He asks and by the look on his face, you know your actions nor words haven’t convinced him. You croak, a little disappointed in your luck, but more by the burnt tongue. “Please show me the world, it can be more serious.”

“There is- no need for that…”

“That's what ice is good for,” William states as he stands up and walks over to the table next to him. He takes a piece of ice from a small bowl which, although it was meant to cool the juices, seemed perfect to treat your burn.

“I... What should I do about it?” You asked uncertainly. Ice? In the spring? Ah yes, it must have been one of those latest inventions... Refridgerorator? Refrigerator? “Should I... bite it? Eat it?... William...”

“You make it very difficult for me,” he says taking the nearest seat to you and putting an ice into his mouth.

Huh?

…Oh.

Oh! So it was for him! Or maybe, he shows you what you should do with the ice? You will need to grab another cube.

William’s hand finds its way to your cheek, which he turns towards you. You open your mouth to ask if is everything alright.

He’s been waiting for this to move closer to you. His lips fit into yours, and you immediately feel the coolness and heat, the ice and William, bursting in your mouth. The scent of ink, books and roses surrounds you, and a hand on your nape makes sure you won’t pull back from the kiss.

An ice cube gets into your mouth. You forget about the burn, as your lungs begin to run out of air, but you don’t pull away. Neither does William, who even deepens the kiss; his other hand goes to your chair to support himself when he leans into you.

Now you are running out of air.

William moves away, but only because of the footsteps of a client, who likely enjoyed the terrace of the cake shop. William puts a distance between you that would never have suggested that a moment ago.

“The ice should have completely melted by now,” William says softly, and you are struck by how calm he looked. All you can see on his cheeks is a pale blush. “If you want more, don’t hesitate to ask,” he says and looks deadly serious as if he wasn’t teasing you.

You envy him for how composed he looks, as another couple who just got to the floor are throwing you a strange look. You are looking like a mess, for sure.

William crosses his arms. He smiles at you, and you still can’t get a word out. You would like to reproach him for the… act, immediate and rough kiss, but the very fact that you have not yet fled spoke for itself.

“Shall we go to the next place, [Name]?”

You bite the inside of your cheek gently as you nod and grasp his arm. He glances at his watch.

“We still have some time before it starts to get dark... It might be a good time to fulfil the deal on your end, [Name]," he says in a gentle tone.

You sigh softly. Favourite place...? The first thing you think of is the library. It is a too-obvious choice, though. The library at Moriarty’s is also the one you’re currently enamoured with.

…Well, there is one place you remember liking as a child.

How long has it been since you've been there?

“Alright," you smile at him, taking first steps in an unfamiliar direction. William, wordlessly lets you guide him to the place you’ve spent hours dreaming in and about.

CHAPTER VI

The rusted gate is overgrown with ivy and it’s the first thing that catches William's attention. You open it with a loud creak. The place turned out to be... Slightly further away than you remembered, so the sun has already started to set.

You watch William’s face as you enter the wild gardens. Unruly plants grow on the ground and between the paving stones. The place you decided to take William to is an old botanical garden, which no one has been interested in for a good few years.

Well, maybe just you.

“So… This is a place I have great memories from,” you introduce the place, spreading your arms a little like a showman.

“It's beautiful here,” he admits, looking around. “It's a surprising view, considering we were in the city centre not so long ago.”

A content blush spreads over your cheeks. This time not from embarrassment—you’ve been feeling bashful too much lately, you think—but from sheer glee. You are happy that the place appeals to William.

“Romance books were almost forbidden in my home when I was so little. I had to borrow ones from the neighbours and sneak out to read here," you confess, directing deeper into the garden.

“Really? I wouldn't expect such rebellious behaviour from you.”.

“Oh, when I was younger I did much worse than sneaking out of the house," you sigh, stepping ahead of him. William raised his eyebrows, and you felt your legs slowly stiffen. Since when did you stop being a quiet introvert? You feel an urge to explain. “Like, um, stealing food from the kitchen and blaming it on the dogs. Or borrowing my mother’s cosmetics... without asking.”

He laughs at that. “You surprise me more and more, Miss [Name].”

You arrive at your favourite part of the garden. It is a gazebo overgrown with wild roses. In the middle of it stay wooden chairs and a table, swathed by moss.

“I remember losing my favourite doll here, but I was afraid to tell my mother about it because she would find out about my sneaking out," you laugh at the memory, one of many that return while wandering.

You notice how William hasn’t said a word for a while. A pang of guilt pierces your heart. “Oh, sorry! The stories of my childhood are not the most interesting ones.”

“They are. Actually...” He lowers his voice and leans to him to hear the words better. He speaks right into your ear. “It would be my pleasure to hear more... I would like to get to know you better [Name].”

“Well...” You look at him from under your lashes, trying to guess his expectations for you. To your misfortune, neither his smile nor his eyes betray anything except his curiosity. “What would to know about me?”

William points to the space between the hedge and the woodland.

“Let’s speak in a more comfortable place.”

He grabs you under the arm, and you rise from the table. William offers to go ahead, pushing back the tall grass that reached his knees.

“Ah!” You hold your breath. You find it hard not to smile as you are flooded with fond memories. “It's been so long since I've been here that I'd almost forgotten...”

A tall oak tree with a gigantic crown casts a shadow over you. Thick ropes are tied around the thick bough. Perhaps they had once held the anchor of a small ship. Britain is, of course, a maritime country and, in a time of an over-revolutionary world, finding miscellaneous materials from machines outside the city is not uncommon.

The ropes, apart from thick knots on a high branch, are neatly tied to a heavy board half a metre above the ground.

“I couldn't have climbed up here on my own when I was younger,” you admit, your eyes searching for the stone you brought from the bushes to elevate yourself onto the swing. “Although I suspect I would still have a problem with that.”

“I'll help you,” William offers, lending you one hand and entwining the other around your waist.

“ It’s a-all right," you protest, but the grip on your body only tightens.

William does not let go.

William tries.

William learns he is not strong enough to lift you that high, even if you were the lightest woman in London.

“Please don't strain yourself...!” You squealed quietly as you tightened your fingers on the ropes. You use all your strength to pull yourself up and finally sit on the board, which squats under your weight.

Your cheeks are hot and visibly red; his because of the sudden exertion, yours through embarrassment… and maybe endearment.

And delight. Few men would tear through the wilderness to put you on the swing.

“I know you're thinking about something untrue," William says. His eyes are now on the same level as yours, and once again you can admire his features from a different perspective.

His hands stay on both sides of you, clamping the ropes. The swing moves under his force, and your legs move further away from the ground.

“So,” William begins again, moving away from you and letting gravity do the work. You start to sway slightly. “What books did you read as a child?”

“Please don't think I've been... uh, like this all along,” you said quickly. William laughs under his breath, and you lower your gaze to the ground. “I mean... I borrowed some books from my neighbours, but I mostly read what was on the shelves in my parents' house.”

“Was it a big house?”.

“Neither big, neither small. It's not comparable to your residence, of course,” you take a moment to think about it. “But every room there is cosy. I still think it is one of the most beautiful places on earth.”

“More than a library?”

“…They are both gorgeous and outstanding.”

“But if you had to choose one?”

“Don’t ask so difficult questions, please,” you say with a chuckle that William shares.

At that moment a rustle comes from the bushes near you. It is a loud sound, as if staged.

By the bushes, at a very respectful and polite distance, stands Fred, his clothes in no way tarnished, although he seems to be coming from a part of the garden where you have to make your way through the low branches.

He nods in greeting you and waits for the permission to speak.

William helps you jump off the swing and, after taking you under his arm, allows Fred to come closer. He looks at him significantly to weigh his words.

You couldn’t catch the boy staring, but you feel his gaze on you when he opens his mouth.

“We found Mary Hale.”

CHAPTER VII

You hurry into the living room of William's residence. There you find Mary, extremely exhausted, wrapped in a blanket in a large armchair, drinking. She looks very different from the last time you saw her. She has dark circles under her eyes, and her face is almost morbidly pale. Mary's clothes have never been so crumpled before.

“Mary...!” You call out and take her into a tight embrace, glad she is back. Safe. You might not be particularly close, but you’ve been still worried about her.

“[Name]...” Mary struggles to reply, not knowing what kind of words she could share with you. She seems not even to have the strength to reciprocate the hug.

You move away from her and tears create in the corners of your eyes. “You’re okay...! “

She smiles uncomfortably.

“We have notified your family and Mr Hearst as you requested,” Louis announces, pouring tea into Mary's cup.

The girl nodded and seemed to want to say something more, but before that, someone burst into the room.

“Mary! Thank God you're here!” August runs up to her, grabbing her shoulders. She sends him a weak smile, but it dies as August turns his attention to you. “Oh, [Name]! How good that you are safe too. I was really worried when you disappeared so suddenly.”

Mary's face clouds over. She's the one who's been through hell the last few days, so why are you the one who's focused attention on...? Are you and August Hearst...?

She sighs, and William can’t help but notice the dissatisfaction in her eyes. The case is not going his way. He had particularly told Mary that they had found her thanks to Mr Hearst, and she—as he predicted—already took an interest in him. He was a good, wealthy, honest man who had “saved” her.

However, he doesn't seem to notice. His attention is focused on you, which inwardly irritates William.

“I’m fine, August... I was safe at the professor's side, as you can see,” you smile convincingly. August looks with a dull gaze at William and nods. He turns to Mary.

“What has happened to you Mary...?” August asks. “Suddenly a strange anonymous message came to me....”

“Miss, [Name],” you hear Louis' voice near you. “I need you to leave for a while. This is important information in the investigation, and we believe that knowing what has happened might put you in danger.”

“Is… it really that dangerous?” You ask with disbelief and worry.

“We know you care about Miss Mary, yet…”

“A-alright,” you bow slightly and take your leave.

Whatever the meeting was about, you never found out.

From August, you’ve learned that Mary Hale does not want to return to the family home; she will have the week off from classes and is required to stay in another room.

When asked if this meant you were going back to your dorm, William shook his head.

“Miss Hale needs peace,” he replied, and you slowly concluded that you were too low-energy a person to disturb someone like Mary. William smiled. “Unfortunately, but you can be very distracting. She will have arranged a room especially to look after her.”

…You wonder why you couldn't have had the same privilege when you needed a single room as well.

“Miss [Name],” August calls. He seems a little paler than before and is carefully eyeing William as he speaks. The professor sips his tea calmly. “Would you do me the honour of accompanying me back to the academy tomorrow?”

You smile at him. “Su—"

...And William answers for you. “Unfortunately Mr Hearst, I must ask you to be present fifteen minutes before class starts. Our lessons must go on, and we've accumulated a bit of a backlog over the last week, don’t you think?”

“Professor Moriarty," August’s voice is filled with a firmness you have never heard from him before. You look at him in surprise which escalates when he gently moves closer to you so that the sleeves of his suit lightly brush against the folds of your dress.

You freeze in place, knowing that whichever way you moved you would find yourself too close to August or William. You hold your breath as if its irregular rhythm betrays your tension.

“Professor Moriarty,” August appeals again, feeling that his words are not getting through to William, who stares at him. Although the chill gaze isn’t directed at you, a shiver comes down your spine. “I don't want to sound rude, but shouldn't you, as a supervisor, be concerned with the safe return of Miss Mary Hale to the dormitory?”

William smiles, although the air around him goes cold.

August stands up quickly and, somewhat forcing you to go with the rules of etiquette extends his hand, which you have to accept.

Your hand finds its way under August's arm. You two—although you not so willingly—leave.

How are you going to return to William’s residence now? Maybe you will stay on campus, or should you get a carriage??

“You have no idea how deep an emotion you evoke in me.”

…?

These are August's words when he considers that you have already moved a fair distance away. His eyes twinkle as he says it, a mottled blush sets on his cheeks and Mr Hearst himself seems like a character straight out of a book.

You can even sum the plot to the current point: a new student and a shy student are assigned to a class together; the charismatic boy quickly falls in love with the typical girl, and she slowly opens up just for him... How many times have you read something with a similar trope?

Not that you want to flatter yourself—being the protagonist of such a classic romance is a compliment, after all, right?—But it's so hard not to substitute August for this gentlemanly extrovert who wins girls' hearts with the blink of his eye.

And the fact that he was now in front of you and stammering over the words he was about to say makes you suddenly stop.

“August, I—"

“The situation with Mary made me realize that… If something like that would ever happen to you, I would go insane with worry.”

You fail to think of anything you can say. Well, you always wanted to have a romance, right?

But…

Every place that William ever kissed you, starts to burn.

“I... Unfortunately, but...”

You read so many romances; there was bound to be some rejectionist dialogue in those. What did they sound like?

“I am... I am truly honoured, Mr Hearst, but...”

The knot in your throat makes it difficult to say the words.

August knows what you want to say; his grip on your hand tightens involuntarily, and a small wave of panic floods your body. He’s doing it unconsciously, he’s in pain right now, but…

You wouldn't be able to break out of his embrace alone.

“Miss [Name].”

Your heads quickly turn towards the voice whose owner turned out to be Louis. He bowed elegantly and, putting his hand to his chest, continued to speak.

“Brother William wanted me to inform you that the carriage is already waiting for you.”

August cuts in.

“I am sorry, but we agreed that Miss [Name] is coming back with me.”

Louis squints at him, unhappy William’s words aren’t accepted just like that.

“The plans have changed. I was told to bring Miss [Name] back.”

You feel on your skin the reluctance with which August releases you from his embrace. Sparks of guilt glitter in his eyes and the corners of his mouth twitch uncontrollably. Immense regret pours over your heart as you realise that you have failed to reject him without hurting him.

...On the other hand, would it ever be possible?

August's gaze did not leave you until you got into the carriage. Only then he shakes himself off and with an abrupt step walks away. You suspect your next encounter will not be very pleasant. You’ve just lost a friend.

“Were you willing to accept his proposal?”

You turn to William, who sits opposite you and waits for your reaction. Your skirt is voluminous enough to hide your shaking heart.

Maybe if Mary hadn't liked August so much and if William James Moriarty hadn't been your teacher, maybe then... No.

You shake your head. “I adore him as a friend.”

“So please don’t feel sorry," he says in a calm voice and with a gentle smile offers comfort. “I will make sure that only friendship remains between you.”

...

...?

August Hearst has no idea how he got into this situation.

Ten minutes ago he came to meet Professor Moriarty, who had told him the previous day that he would need to speak to him about the overall backlog.

He never expected William to serve him this kind of lesson.

It's really hard to see what's going on outside when you're locked in a bookcase. Only the gap between the wings of the door allowed him a peek at what was going on inside the hall. He has a view of the blackboard, the very centre of the auditorium and the desks, including his own, where he had sat until a few days ago when he had lectures.

He could feel the thick ribbons rubbing against his wrists and ankles; one of them served to cover his mouth. He can’t say anything or move, but he knows that if he makes too loud a sound, Professor Moriarty, who is fully aware of his presence—as he was the one who has put him here—will kick him out of school.

He didn't even need to warn him personally—the unspoken prohibition hung in the air as soon as William closed the wardrobe.

“William?”

Oh no.

August really doesn’t want to hear your voice. His heart has yet to be rehabilitated. He isn’t sure if a whole year will be enough.

On the other hand, he so badly wants you to come up to that bookcase now. August is convinced that the reason he is in this situation is your relationship with Professor Moriarty. He feels the sting of hatred for the professor, but the gentleness with which William handled you made him unable to consider him inferior in this situation.

“[Name],” Since when does Professor Moriarty's voice sound so warm? August wonders in his mind. “I'm sorry to call you out at such an early hour, but... we're both aware that you also need a repetition of exam material.”

“Of course,” you move towards the chair. William lightly catches your hand in his and brings you closer.

“Today we’ll have a special lesson for a special student,” he replies with amusement at the question in his eyes. “I have tasks already prepared for you. Starting from the beginning...”

You grab a piece of chalk and stand in front of the blackboard. William, along with a file of notes, walks behind your back and saunters in circles.

He dictates the questions. You immediately get to work.

The pattern? You already remember it after you failed the exam six months ago. Since then, it has haunted you even in your dreams.

And calculating it? …Maybe you’ve got a little problem with numbers.

William's drawing of perfect straight strokes presents an irregular triangle with three signed side lengths and its heights.

...The first thing you need to do is to use the cosine theorem. You needed a cosine, an angle.

...

How were the angles calculated?

“William... Uh... I think I'm hugely deficient… Today,” you sigh, lowering the chalk and stepping away from the blackboard. William casts a glance at the blackboard and then at you. “Could I have a hint...?”

A smile stretches his lips.

“But of course,” he replied, walking up to you.

You hold your hand out to him, from which he takes the chalk but also brings itself closer. His fingers intertwine with yours, and your face is right next to his. He leans down, his lips brushing your collarbone and inhales your perfume.

Sweet. Could it be a rose?

You’re matching now.

He nibbles on your skin, and you gasp quietly in surprise. Slowly, you begin to get used to his touch, but the moment you start to crave it he lifts his head so that he meets your eyes.

“That is the fee for the hint," he flashes you a charming smile. So now he is demanding something in return for his help? Was that the purpose of this repetition?

“…William!” you say, feeling your body overheating. This was supposed to be a lesson! A repetition! And you are going to leave it with grace and knowledge, even if you had to lie about whether you liked the whole event or not. “T… this is still a public place!”

He doesn’t let you move away. He teases you by closing his behind your back.

“Please don't worry. It's not like anyone can see us.”

You blush even harder and William casts a fleeting glance towards the wardrobe.

“And if one’s watching, let them watch.”

CHAPTER VIII

You sigh, looking out of the window. The weather today is not spoiling anyone, and the constant rain puts you in a nostalgic mood. Just to think that not so long ago you were just an ordinary student with a slightly over-exuberant imagination and an obsession with romance...

And now? The former may not have changed, but you feel as if you have become the main character of the novella you loved so much. Being an ordinary townswoman, you have gained the attention of your handsome professor-aristocrat, as well as from your colleague... It seemed too... unrealistic. Fictional.

Your relationship with William is... Exactly what is it? Neither of you ever uttered "I love you" or proposed a relationship, yet your interactions...

You blush at the memory of the scene an hour ago. Your actions hint at a close relationship, yet deep inside you feel apprehension. What if your unspoken feelings don't last? If you are going to be left alone? Would you be able to survive this? Will your heart be able to bear such a disappointment?

You shake your head, returning your gaze to the notebook. This is not the time for such thoughts, but nevertheless, your hands tightened on the material of your skirt. You take a deep breath and try to focus on the rest of the lecture.

"William is truly amazing, you think as you watch him. Not only does he teach maths at university, he also helps Mary and you. Your gazes cross for a moment and you reflexively look at your notebook, but there are just minutes left before the end of the class.

William announces the end and the students start to pack their things into their bags.

“Miss [Name],” you hear him after everyone else exits the class. You turned around, looking warmly at William. “I would like to talk to you today about something very important to me.”

***

You are unable to find out where William is leading you. He dismisses your every question like a politician, but in return for not answering, he places a kiss on your finger joints. You don’t break out of his embrace or even comment on it, even when you get into the carriage and his hand is still clamped on yours.

“Aren't you cold?” He asks, looking at the overcast sky. The sun has hidden behind the rain-threatening clouds after you got into the carriage. The wheels rattle against the stones even faster. He wants to hide in some inn as soon as possible, but he cannot ignore the aristocrat's wish or his money.

You shake your head at William's question. You are warm.

Your vehicle doesn’t stop until forty minutes later, under the old church. It is tall and built of heavy stone. The grey sky gives it an underwhelming atmosphere, but the beautiful buildings and decorations that lasted for many years reinforce your belief that it had once been a majestic and beautiful building. It still has its charm and solemnity in its appearance, but you can’t imagine anyone choosing it over the local cathedrals.

William pushes open the massive wooden door. They opened with a quiet squeak and immediately ushered you into the damper, cooler and quieter air. The raindrops were already almost inaudible compared to the sound of your footsteps.

He leads you to the confessional; he doesn’t even glance towards the altar illuminated by flashes of lightning, or towards the pews, the wood of which was indeed soaked with water. They are dark and smell of earth and the weeds that grow around them.

He seats you where a confessor would normally sit. You protest silently, but William proves to have a better understanding of human physics, for he does not use much force, but still seats you deep inside the confessional. You don’t even dare to flinch and look anxiously at the door as if someone is about to reprimand you for your behaviour.

“May He be praised.”

William walks across to the kneeler. He crosses himself without saying anything and leans towards the grating of the confessional. You are sure he could feel your gaze on him, even though you try to avert it from him. Apparently, he doesn’t mind, and just demands your attention, because he nods as if agreeing to whatever you are going to do now.

“I know the text for the confession, but it can't look like that now,” he says rather loudly, not like a repentant man who is supposed to confess his sins. “I am not looking for forgiveness here. I am not looking for repentance, although perhaps you, [Name], could be my path to purification. I... came here to share my sins with you, because I love you dearly,” your heart skips a beat, “but in order to keep you in my life, I need you to let you get to every part of it. I will keep you safe, of course, but I must make you aware of something.”

You nod but are too nervous to interrupt him. It is a gesture so subtle as to be almost imperceptible, but William notices it. He goes on:

“I am.... a person who pursues an objective regardless of the means, as long as someone close to me is not involved. I do this by means of a certain service of a crime consultant and I clear the world of fake people.”

Here he looks at you. You stare at him as if under the spell, but you don’t really know how to answer him.

“This morning,” he continues, “certain aristocrat was murdered... I believe you already know the news, “he says because your eyes glaze over in recognition. “I would not kill an innocent man, [Name]. That man was notorious on the black market. He had four murders of girls as young as twelve or thirteen. They died in torture, all because of him. Did he deserve to live after all of that?”

You keep silent. You feel a huge lump in your throat, and you can’t think of anything you could say. Tears of unhappiness and shock run down your cheeks. Obviously, the person you had to love was a serial killer, just like in the books.

“Did you...” You whisper out, trying to not let yourself sob. “...They... The rest... Louis, Fred... Moran... James... They all...?”

William puts his hand to the grating of the confessional as if he has forgotten that a wall separates you and he cannot wipe away your tears.

“They are all involved,” William confirms. “I want them to have a better world. I want them to... live in it, and be fulfilled in it. And the same I wish for you. Especially you.”

“...And what... what about you?” - You ask, catching a certain nostalgia in his voice. Nonetheless, you are already becoming well acquainted with William's tones, having spent a lot of time listening to every tone of his voice with relish.

“I don't know.”

Here he hesitates, for the first time in a long while since arriving at the church.

“But... Now, I know that I will do everything to make you live in this world,” he said. “Together with me.”

He got up from his kneeler and approached you. This time he doesn’t kneel but bows his head as he pulls a black box from the deep pocket of his coat. He opens it gently and on the velvet cushion shows an elegant, large ruby set into a silver ring. Its colour immediately makes you think of William's eyes.

Now that you stare at it, it reminds you of the colour of the blood.

“This ring is my being, my promises, my future,” he says, and the stone glows scarlet as if to confirm his words. “My name. If you accept it... I will consider that you accept me and my sins.”

You don’t immediately raise your hand. You would have done so just twenty minutes ago when you were still in the vehicle and you were happily lurching to William's side, resting your head on his shoulder. Now it isn’t just your maths teacher standing in front of you.

Now there is a Napoleon of Crime, one of the worst criminals in London. Your heart is awfully heavy, but you know that this is what a secret of such importance should weigh. It hadn't yet crossed your mind that by him sharing this secret, your choices were suddenly limited.

But you raise your hand nonetheless. It stops over the ring. You don’t know now whether the future you had been anticipating will actually be as beautiful as you have dreamed. By taking this ring, you were saying goodbye to your fantasies since you first learned of love.

The ruby is perfect for your finger; it slides in neatly and stays in place.

You tear up at this sight.

“Everything will be fine," William holds you against his chest. His hands continuously stroke your hair, slowly calming your sobs. It takes a long time though, but eventually the touch, his squat silhouette seemed to warm you up in this cold church. Yes, William's gestures were always warm, though his hands were usually cold. “I won't let anything bad happen to you. I will love you always,” and here his voice changed to a whisper. It sounds like a confession for the first time. “I beg you to remember that. Amen.”

CHAPTER IX

You have returned home. (You remember how warm you felt in William's embrace as the carriage wheels clattered against the cobbles on the way back to his estate).

William took his brothers with him to the study to discuss a matter relating to you. (You blushed at Moran’s whistling, having noticed the ring on your finger. Everyone congratulated you, but they didn't look surprised).

James handed you some cosmetics he'd bought in town. (Unrelated to the engagement, but they smelled divine).

You went to bed.

Breakfast, lunch, dinner.

You spent whole days at William's side. You didn't even make it back to university, although William continued to promise that you would be there again in the future.

...

It couldn't have been that long, could it?

Your book, “The Fruit of Infinity”, which you were so engrossed in, was last shelved in your dorm room... how long ago? When was the last time you even had the presence of mind to get a hold of a fictional world once more and get away from the present one? Too many things have been occupying your head.

The first was your wedding.

...

Huh.

When have you agreed to this? When did your parents have time to allow this? When did Louis have time to agree to this? The latter two would fight against the world if you had said anything about a relationship with William at the beginning of your acquaintance, just to keep you from getting married.

When did their resolve soften?

You aren’t going to talk them out of it. You know that everything that has happened to you so far was just a stroke of luck that you had accidentally come across. If only you have chosen a different class, a different major in college… Surely nothing has happened because of your non-existent romance skills.

(Although Moran did offer to teach you a little something if you wanted to flesh out your personality).

(William protested).

You don’t yet know how your life will play out from then on. Is William going to separate you from his plans for the London aristocracy? Keeping you completely unaware will be impossible and that’s why William has revealed his plans to you, but…

“Will's just worried about you,” James says, patting you on the shoulder. He listened intently to your worries, which you have been trying to keep to yourself lately; now that you know how much responsibility rests on the shoulders of everyone in the house, you don’t want to bother them with your silly problems. Bottling your feelings too quickly was breaking you from the inside, and James took you to the gardens as soon as he noticed your first insincere smile. (That's something you'll have to practice more). “The world in revolves is truly brutal. And you, my dear, are very fragile.”

“I don't want to be that fragile," you lowered your head with a slight pout.

“Oh, dearest!” James strokes your head again. You'd noticed that he is in the habit of fixing your hair and you like the childish joy of being cared for like that. “I'll take care of you, alright? Let's give William some more time to enjoy that rosy, adorable you at the wedding. And afterwards, we'll make you quite a weed to fend for yourself and know that people like Moran are low-key!”

You smile slightly. “...I bet you would be an excellent professor on that topic.”

He covers his mouth with his hands and looks at you with pride.

“Is that sarcasm, I hear?” he sighs with delight, taking you in one arm in his embrace. “My dear, I see progress, and in a very good direction.”

…

You guess you won’t mind a family like that.

…

The other thing that pulled you away from the books and the now all too fictional reality was this terrible fear.

Your life will change as soon as you marry William. It is inevitable and knowable, and normally the changes after the wedding are the ones people usually wait for.

You'll have a loved one by your side, plans for your life, and your dream romance with the antagonist (they always have something in them that the main characters lack)... And all of England chasing you.

News of Count Caretling's murder was everywhere. The information about his death is incomplete, always accompanied by a reference to a natural disease that no one had ever known about before. You don’t dare to ask William if he is responsible.

“Dearest,” he told you, sipping his tea. “You can still back out of everything. Just a word of promise that you will not reveal anything about our identity. Most likely, your brothers would force you to move deeper into Europe or to America—your whole family could go with you safely, I promise you. Would that be a more appealing solution?”

He said it quite neutrally. After that, you’ve been frustrated with William, especially as you slowly started to see the tension in the smile and the artificial indifference in those words.

You left his office genuinely angry.

And now you are on your way to America.

...

The theoretical road to America. Or some country in Europe. You haven’t decided yet.

...

You are on your way to travel the world then. With no luggage, no funds, no knowledge of parents, fiancé or friends. In a wedding dress, walking briskly across the seashore knowing there must be a port somewhere. Yes, you're prepared to travel the world.

Your watch indicated that your wedding ceremony would begin in fifteen minutes. You know there have been cases where brides had been far, far too late for their wedding, too engaged in preparing themselves for their special day. If no one has noticed that it's too quiet in your dressing room and they haven't kicked down the door or climbed through the window then you should still have some time.

You can feel your eyes burning, and it’s not because of the sun that shines down on you.

Why are you giving up on your dreams?

Your legs ache and your heart feet heavier with every step. The sand on the beach tries to pull you underground and some part of you wants to let yourself collapse.

You ran away from William James Moriarty because you feared for your life. And not only yours.

If someone stumbles across William's criminal trial and connects the dots to you—would you be able to lie to save your life? Is this more valuable than all those dead? Would you let yourself pretend to be an innocent maiden from a wealthy manor or betray them if you gave anyone a wrong impression? If you left this world in the name of William’s ideals, would your family be punished as well?

You always thought love would help you face anything until you landed in the current situation.

You aren’t able to admit it to William, although in your head you are putting together scenarios of your explanation should he decide to catch up with you.

When he decides to catch up with you.

He appears out of nowhere and you know it must have been due to someone following you. You feel silly with the thought when you thought you had been so clever and discreet in your escape. You have, after all, met Fred and Jack.

William is dressed in a wedding suit; completely black, elegant and unsuited to the beach. You don’t match it either, but as he stands next to you now, you know you suit each other. At least with the clothes.

“So you decided to quit, [Name].”

“...I don't want to put anyone at risk,” you say after a moment, but you struggle to get any words out under William's gaze, which isn’t warm anymore. What were you expecting? “And I also have a selfish reason. William, I won't be able to live a life like you. I— I want to help people, but I don't want to sacrifice my life! Nothing— I haven't achieved anything in my life yet!”

You can’t hold back the tears. They are pouring down your cheeks and you regret like never before in your life that emotions can sway you like that.

William is standing close enough for the hem of your dress to touch the fabric of his trousers, but he does not attempt to deepen the contact.

“My life is inseparable from the death of others,” he whispers, and because the beach is unusually quiet, you hear everything in his voice that you love so much. “You [Name], on the other hand... You remind me of life itself. You are full of it. You can't hide what you feel. You care about each person, and I care about the public well-being. You value everyone and I can’t do that.”

“…You know that's not true,” you say resolutely and with anger in your voice. “William, you put the whole world before yourself. You teach people and want to build things with your own hands. I'm the one who has this selfish desire to have you in every piece... This- I'm the one who messed it all up.”

“Then help me fix the world, if that’s what you want.”

His red eyes are piercing you deeply. Your body fills with a mixture of very different feelings, and William is now allowing you to release them all. You use them up to muster up the courage to say your vows.

“I want you to be mine. And me to be yours. So I can’t give you to the world.”

You grab him by his suit and jerk him towards you. Under the sudden force, he leans over and bumps into you.

You steal a kiss from him.

It stands apart from all the others you have ever shared with him (and those, however, were not too many (in reality. Not in imagination)). It is more violent than all the others because of the sudden desperation.

And then William regains control. He lifts his head higher, just enough to keep your lips from parting, but now you have to exert some effort to reach him and stand on your toes.

You have to make up for your running away.

And you can do so by giving your heart, soul and mind entirely to William.

In exchange, you can keep his life to yourself.

EPILOGUE

“Hmm~ So now it's Mrs Moriarty, no?”

You laugh with a fiery blush on your face at this remark.

You’ve been embarrassed since everyone turned towards the huge doors when the bride and groom were a good half hour late for their wedding. Their outfits were in the sand, the bride's make-up was smudged, the groom’s suit stretched, and they both walked down the aisle without any remorse, with a determined stride.

“You are already the subject of many rumours,” comments James, sitting next to William. He adds in a thinner voice and with exaggerated drama, “Such shortcomings in your outfits on your wedding day, they said. And yet they walked in with such superiority as if their tardiness was nothing, they said.”

“It wasn't too bad,” says Moran, disturbed that he can’t light a cigarette in the cab. He grins slightly in William's direction. “But I'm glad this wedding wasn't perfect! Now everyone, we have some top-tier teasing material on William!”

“Finally something he wasn’t a gentleman in," you say.

“The bride who tried to run away from her wedding was also at fault, I think,” William replies, not looking at you but squeezing your hand.

You squeezed it tighter. “A bride who had a very good reason to do so.”

“So the groom shouldn’t have been chasing her?”

“He should have. Now she finally has a purpose. I think the groom should beware of what a wonderful wife she will become.”

“He won’t mind, as his wife is already wonderful.”

Everyone listens to the exchange in silence, or maybe you don’t pay attention to anyone, completely lost in William who lets himself look at you and gets spellbound by you as well.

Louis sighs, with some kind of relief.

“So brother has finally found his happiness, hm...~” tag: @elvyshiarieko

#eoeoeoe that's one long fic #idk if it has a chance of being popular here #but i hope all thos who were waiting for it will enjoy the fic fully!#william james moriarty x reader #moriarty the patriot #william james moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #ynm x reader #ynm #moriarty the patriot x reader #william x reader #fluff #angst #mtp #mtp x reader

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astaribun · 8 months

Text

Any body but me

Fandom: BG3

Pairing: Tav x Astarion

Rating: E

Tags: Trans!Tav, Transmasc!Tav, Tav is stealth, Tav has had top surgery, Tav has had no bottom surgery, Pan!Astarion, everyone is anxious, and traumatised, angst, fluff, dysphoria, Trans affirming, (vampire) bite kink, I have a thing for fangs clearly, (im)proper use of tadpole mind-link, bratting begging, orgasm control

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Oh gods, the consequences of my own actions, Tav thought. Flirting with Astarion had been fun and, honestly, hard not to with how this sassy Elf encouraged it at every opportunity. His dreams, when not taken over by the guardian, had been full of Astarion in all kinds of ways. From romantic picnics to wet dreams to nightmare rejections, Tav'd truly not had a moment's peace since the abduction and the tadpole in his head wasn't even the biggest cause for gods' sake.

And now he was hopelessly tangled in the web Astarion had spun for him. A web which felt so much tighter now that it was clear your favourite vampire wanted to sneak off to the woods to have sex. Most people would probably be ecstatic, but Tav was worried. He had so far avoided any need to disclose he was trans and relished in being treated as just one of the guys. But what would happen when they undressed and he didn't have the parts one might expect? A rational part of him chimed in that surely Astarion had slept with a trans person or two before, but the dysphoria and fear were so much louder.

---

At the same time Astarion was dissociating in his tent, also worried about having sex with Tav. This was all his plan and yet... He'd only ever done this in service of Cazador, bringing people back for him and to their doom. For his plan to work he had to use his body one or two more times and get Tav on his side. Sweet enthusiastic kind Tav who'd shown him he could break Cazador's rules, who'd kept offering him his tasty blood even though he'd practically attacked him that first night.

Maybe Tav would help him if he just asked? No, no one trusts a vampire, not truly. Tav must be doing it because it made him stronger. And because the poor Elf boy was falling for his seduction like so many before him. But then why did his heartbeat spike in fear at his proposition? Oh hells, could Tav be a virgin?! He had better be gentle, after all, he had to keep Tav on his side at least until he could have his revenge on Cazador.

---

And so when Tav finally walks up to the clearing with legs made of jello and a stomach ready to cast acid splash he is greeted by a shirtless Astarion whose smug look falls off his face in seconds. He rushed to cup Tav's face. "Are you alright darling? this seems like more than the normal amount of nerves," he muses.

Fuck, Tav thought, if he hadn't asked I could've just held it in. Instead tears well up and he starts shaking. "I-", his voice cracks, "Iliedtoyou", he blurts out. Well, it's not inaccurate, but gods is it a terrible way to start this conversation.

"Wha- what do you mean?", Astarion asks, "do you not want this? me?" Although it's subtle, a twang of pain slips out on that last word. The plan can't fall apart already! Did he push too much? Picked the wrong target? Hells why does nothing ever go his way.

No words seemed right, his head too loud to think, and time ever ticking on, Tav did something most likely stupid: He kissed Astarion, catching them both by surprise. Though when they regained the ability to think he found himself pushed away by Astarion.

"What in the hells are you doing, you better start making a lot of sense real fast" Astarion exclaimed. Tav wiped away his tears and took a small step back. "I'm sorry, I do want this- you- us." He stuttered. "But?" Astarion asked. "But I'm trans."

"Gods, is that all? Here I was worried it was something like you being..." He trailed off clearly catching himself about to say something he didn't want to admit, "some monster using a disguise spell or something".

Well, that wasn't the reaction he expected. "So you don't mind that I don't have the parts one might expect on a guy?" Tav asked, his voice already steadier. "My darling boy, I am well versed in all configurations, you needn't worry your pretty little head over something like that," Astarion said reaching out and petting Tav's hair gingerly.

With relief washing over him Tav felt ready for tonight for the first time and while their first kiss hadn't been ideal there were hopefully many more to have tonight. "So do you still wanna do this?" He asked sheepishly, not having enough courage to press his lips to Astarion's again without an invitation.

"Of course, I clearly need to create better memories for you than whoever or whatever made you worry so" Astarion spoke in that same sensual whispery tone he always used. He placed Tav's hand gently on his chest and cupped his face with the other pulling him in for a kiss. At first slow and gentle and then hungrier, fangs dragging across Tav's bottom lip.

Astarion gently tugs at his shirt and Tav lifts his arms to help get it off. A few more chaste kisses before Astarion starts trailing them down Tav's neck and chest, giving special attention to the ageing crescent scars, on his way to where pants now block his path.

In wordless command, Astarion tells Tav to strip and lay down, getting undressed himself while watching intently. "I'd like to taste you", he purrs, "may I?". With a small chuckle, Tav replies "You've tasted my blood before, Astarion~". Rather than answer Astarion got on his knees and pulled Tav closer.

He kissed and nibbled the inside of Tav's tighs first, enough to leave a mark but never to draw blood. It was torturously slow and it dawned on Tav what his plan was. He was going to have to beg, wasn't he? Fuuuuuck, maybe he should've just said yes, he thought, but then I wouldn't have had this...

If Tav thought it was bad then he was wrong. As Astarion got close to Tav's pulsing wet pussy he made sure to let his breath pass over the sensitive parts screaming to be touched and nothing else always going just around, waiting.

"Astarion-", Tav breathed, "please", arching his back looking desperately for friction. "Ah ah ah, say it," Astarion grinned, "tell me what you want." He then stopped his teasing touches completely to look up at Tav from between his legs.

Tav couldn't look at him as he spoke "Taste me, touch me, fuck-" , but something made him look directly in those deep red eyes as he pleaded "please, Astarion, I need you". And gods was he rewarded. Finally, those lips went from torture to pleasure and Tav couldn't help but moan.

Astarions tongue skillfully hitting his clit in an almost hypnotic pattern was driving Tav mad. However, the insecurities crept back in as they tried to convince him that Astarion couldn't possibly see him as a guy right now. Who could when they had a mouth full of pussy and heard the high-pitched moans no voice training could change.

Just as all the built-up pleasure was sinking away a voice pierced the loudness in his mind. "Bad boy~" The instant heat roaring through his whole body blew away the doubts as just those words said oh so dominantly. "Stay right here with me and just feel" Astarion added as he lightly grazed Tav's sensitive folds with his fangs.

What could Tav do but obey? He was safe in Astarion's mouth and hands and those were skilled indeed. Spurred on by Tav's renewed enjoyment and pleased with his new tadpole party trick Astarion upped his tempo and started alternating between licking, sucking and gently nibbling at the clit. Until, finally, when he felt how close Tav was giving him one final command: "Come for me, pet."

Tav came, hard, crying out Astarion's name. He felt miles away while Astarion savoured the taste of his success. The sexy bastard was still licking his lips when Tav started coming down into his body again. When he met Astarion's gaze the vampire spoke, out loud, "Such a good boy for me~". And that was the last push Tav needed before he got to his knees and pushed astarion over and onto his back. "Fuck you," he growled. "I just did, darling~," Astarion replied, smirking.

Seeing him laying there so casually, erection standing tall, eyes still hungry in a way that was so different from when he wanted his blood was not something Tav could've prepared for. But boy was he going to make use of it. And if that was part of Astarion's plan he didn't care, he was having fun and felt safe, so why not?

Tav gracefully crawled over Astarion and tasted himself on Astarion's lips. A hand found its way into his hair as the kissing turned passionate and downright dirty. The perfect time to stealthily line up and instantly sink down on his dick. The moan that elicited was oh so sweet and left those fangs he knew so well perfectly on display... Tav couldn't help but give a little squeeze.

In response, Astarion quickly buried his teeth into Tav's neck and started thrusting ferally. Whether intentional or not, the familiar tinge of the mind link sent raw words and feelings straight gay to Tav who sent his in return to create a feedback loop of pleasure and desire as they rode and fucked each other in animalistic instinct. Neither of them lasted long before they climaxed together and collapsed in contentment.

#tav x astarion #trans tav #trans!tav #transmasc tav #pan!astarion #bg3 #astarion #tav #baldur's gate 3 #angst #fluff #smut #astarion smut #Bite kink #Tavstarion

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leggerefiore · 1 year

Note

Hey, I was wondering if you could write something of Ingo comforting s/o after her beloved rattata has passed away? I'm currently grieving cause my rat Artemis passed away last night :(

I can do that, I'm sorry for your loss :( I hope your other rats can cope alright! Sorry if it's not that good, I wasn't too sure what comfort was preferred!

cw: pet death, angst, comfort

The feeling would not leave your chest since you first discovered the state of your Rattata. Losing a pet was something that was never easy. You sat on the couch, lost in thought. Time felt strange and impossible to cope with. Ingo had to find you and help you with processing the passing over the poor rodent pokemon. Ingo had stepped out for a moment, however. Today, he was off, yet he had unexpectedly left to do something.

You sighed. It felt awful to think, brain burned with memories about time spent with your little rat friend. Rattatas often did not live long, few even making it to the Raticate phase. Why had Ingo left? You would have loved his company now. Being alone reminded you of how you spent the days while he worked hanging out with your Rattata. Running a hand back through your hair, you could barely give half your attention to the show you had turned on to distract yourself.

Everything felt tense. You wanted to breathe, yet breaths felt much too short and just from your grasp. Before you could fall any further, the door opened. Ingo stepped back inside with his arms full of bags, which were quickly deposited onto the ground as he slipped off his shoes. He stepped inside with a groan and turned to you with wide eyes. “Ah… Dearest,” his voice was controlled and soft, “… I am terribly sorry for leaving you alone at a time like this… I simply wished to gather some things.” You tilted your head.

His hand dove into the bag as he pulled out an unexpected item. The plastic casing told you it was a game. “You had mentioned wanting this, had you not?” Ingo asked, “You could use some time off and a distraction.” The game was given to you as you stared at it with large eyes. “I also obtained some groceries,” he began pulling out ingredients for a familiar meal, “This is your favourite, yes? I wanted to make it for you.” You felt your eyes stinging. Yet again, into another bag he pulled out another gift for you, a sweet that you quite enjoyed.

A hiccup left your throat as he brought out more and more things. His eyes landed on you as he bit his lip. He stepped toward you in long strides as he cupped your face gently. The feeling of his warm thumbs against your skin as he wiped your tears away felt strangely calming. Your arms wrapped around him and nuzzled into his nape. Crying quietly, you thanked him for his kindness but begged for him to stay with you. His arms came around you, too, and pressed a kiss to your head. “It's alright, my love,” he crooned, “I'll stay with you… I know everything must feel so difficult, losing one's pet is never something easy.”

Slowly, you separated, and you took a seat at the table while Ingo began to work on your dinner. He gave you a gentle, loving look and spoke to you about anything and everything. The Subway Boss proved a wonderful distraction from it all. The meal and dessert were enjoyed before moving to the couch to cuddle. Leaning against him, you listened to the soft beat of his heart. His hand grasped yours tightly. “… You're free to borrow any of my become as needed… Or any of Emmet's army of spiders, for that matter.” You gave a light laugh at his words. “I'll even help you obtain another Rattata if that would make you happy…” You shook your head.

“Thank you, Ingo…” you told him, “I love you.” He spent almost all of yesterday evening and today helping you with your terrible emotional state. His virtue truly must be patience. Another kiss was placed on your forehead.

“It truly is no problem, dear, if it helps lighten your mood at all,” Ingo replied with ease, “I love you more than anything, and I know how much you loved her.” You sighed. It still stung. It would probably still sting for the coming month… Still, knowing he would be there to support and help you through it was a calming thought.

His lips pressed to yours as you slowly drifted off against him, emotions finally dying into ashes and tiring you out.

#ingo x reader #ingo/reader #pokemon ingo x reader

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sophierequests · 2 years

Note

Hi! Could you write a fluffy Zoya x female reader fanfiction, where Genya won't stop bugging the reader about her crush?

i only want to be with you

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Request

Pairing: Zoya Nazyalenksy x f!Reader

A/N: WLW ZOYA! WLW ZOYA! Ahhhh, I love her so much! I wrote her a bit softer than I intended to, so I hope you still enjoy reading it. Also, there is a slight bit of angst, because I just love using the miscommunication trope, I'm sorry. The ending is really fluffly though! Thank you for requesting this!

Summary: After Genya's constant teasing reveals that the reader has a crush on somebody, Zoya gets slightly jealous.

Genre: Fluff, slight Angst

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings: slight mention of not eating, poor proofreading

Upon entering the conference room, you saw that you weren’t the first person to arrive. Genya was already idly sitting in her designated chair, curling one of her auburn curls around her finger. David had to finish some minuscule tasks for Nikolai, which meant he couldn’t join the meeting and fill the space next to the tailor.

When she caught sight of you, her eyes brightened, and her lips formed a mischievous grin. As much as you loved her, she could be insufferable sometimes, especially when it came to her favourite topic: gossip.

And oh boy, did she have an opportunity to gossip.

A few weeks prior, you accidentally let it slip that you had a slight crush on a certain squaller, which seemed to not surprise your friend at all. Since then it became one of her most talked-about matters, effectively managing to drive you up against the wall. As soon as she realized that it wasn’t just a little innocent infatuation, but fully developed feelings towards your mutual friend, she didn’t want to let it go, constantly teasing or encouraging you to ask her out.

But you knew better than to act out on your feelings. Zoya would never return these feelings. Not towards you. She even rejected Nikolai, when he tried to ask her out, so you thought about your chances, which, by now, were heading towards zero. And you were fine with that. At least that's what you told yourself.

“Busy night?” she asked jokingly, already judging your current look intently.

She was right. You looked questionable at best. Your hair was slightly messy, the bags under your eyes had got more visible, and you looked pretty tired. The reason for that wasn’t what Genya suggested.

“Yes, terribly busy. With finishing the load of paperwork, Nikolai handed me yesterday. As if I had nothing better to do.” you huffed, taking the place next to the red-haired girl.

“What a shame.” she stated, the previous smile still present on her lips, “I thought that you may have had a certain nightly visit from a certain squaller, we both know and love.”

You glared at her, knowing that this wouldn’t be able to wipe that smug look off of her face. In answer to this, you couldn’t stop your cheeks from turning a slight red.

“Genyaaa, why are you like this?” you groaned, throwing your head back in defeat.

“Because I enjoy watching you blush at every mention of her. I didn’t even have to say her name.”

“You’re the worst.”

“I’m the best.”

Before you could retort anything witty, the door flew open, an agitated Nikolai, followed by an even more distressed Zoya entered the room. This was going to be fun, you thought to yourself, as Nikolai sat down at the head of the table, already displeased with the meeting before it even started. Zoya sat down across from you, scowling at Nikolai.

She looked as stunning as ever, even with an expression, that could kill you in an instant. Her dark hair was slightly dishevelled from the harsh weather currently raging outside, but she didn’t care to fix it.

Her eyes shifted from Nikolai to the papers in front of her, finally landing on you. She flashed you a quick smile before her attention got taken away by Nikolai starting to speak. But you weren’t listening, still completely captured by Zoya smiling at you.

Genya didn’t really focus on the discussion either. She had way too much fun watching you and Zoya exchange coy smiles and vexed glances, silently communicating in your own way. It was one of her favourite past times to watch the both of you unknowingly flirt with each other - extremely poorly for that matter. A thing that you didn’t know was that Zoya did, in fact, reciprocate your feelings. She had told Genya quite a few times before. But she would never tell you that since she was waiting for you to figure it out yourself. Even though it was getting quite hard to watch without dropping the bomb, so she just had to continue joking about it, until something happened.

“Y/N, are you even listening?” a tired but stern voice shook you from your daydream.

Nikolai looked at you intently, catching you completely off guard. You did, in fact, not listen to anything that he had said. But you couldn’t tell him that. As you began to stutter, Genya interjected, a wicked smile on her face.

“Oh Lantsov, cut the girl some slack. You let her work through the whole night, so she didn’t have time to daydream about her current person of interest.” she grinned mischievously.

You almost choked on your own spit after hearing that. Genya liked to be obvious with her teasing, but she never straight up told anyone about you having a crush on someone, especially not when said person was in the room.

The man at the head of the table sighed gravely, shaking his head at the tailor’s answer. You sensed that he wanted to answer something humorous, but he didn’t seem to have the energy to actually utter it.

“Alright then, just…try to focus from now on. It’s not like it’s part of your job…” he muttered, continuing his ramblings.

Zoya wasn’t completely unfazed by her friend’s comment, either. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, not taking her eyes off you, unless it was to throw questioning glances at the girl sitting next to you. You could basically feel the hot red glow emitting from your cheeks.

The rest of the meeting went how you would’ve expected it. Nikolai decided to end it early, because neither Zoya nor you seemed to be able to concentrate properly. Genya, however, acted as jolly as ever. Her plan of getting the two of you to admit your mutual feelings was number one on her priority list.

As soon as the meeting was over, the squaller across from you stood up and left the room, without giving you another glance. You wanted to follow after her, but her sudden mood change made you rethink that decision. Even though you weren’t quite sure what made her so uncomfortable, you knew that getting on her nerves was not doing anything for her.

You left the room, with Genya quickly following after you.

“What were you thinking?” you asked exasperatedly, after putting a bit of distance between the conference room.

“Oh come on, Y/N.” she chuckled, laying a hand on your shoulder, guiding you towards the garden of the Grand Palace, “We both know that you harbour certain…feelings for her. You can’t keep them hidden forever.”

“I could if you would stop telling people about it.” you muttered, slightly agitated by her attempt at matchmaking.

“I didn’t say her name.”

“You didn’t need to. I think she knows, judging by the way she stared me down afterwards.” you grumbled back at her.

“Trust me, love. Zoya has no idea I meant her.” she laughed, her light footsteps almost floating over the white gravel of the garden path.

“Why would she act this uncomfortable, if she wouldn’t know that you meant her?” you asked suspiciously, not quite understanding what she was insinuating.

“Do I need to spell everything out for you?”

“Apparently you do because I have no clue where you’re coming from.”

“Don’t you think that she might’ve reacted like this because she might’ve been a bit jealous?”

“Jealous?” you retorted incredulously, your eyes followed her as she sat down on a bench, surrounded by hedges.

She patted the empty space next to her, offering you to sit down.

“Genya, I don’t understand.”

“I doubt that she has any clue that you like her. You’re not really good at hiding it, but she can be pretty…difficult when it comes to these things.”

“If you’re trying to get me to ask her out, you can stop right there.” you interjected before she could continue with her pep talk, “I’m really not in the mood for getting rejected. Especially not by her. It would be unwise to risk our friendship. I’d rather keep all these feelings to myself until they go away.”

“What if they won’t?”

“Then that would be my problem.”

“Are you truly that dense?” she gave you a questioning look, folding her hands in her lap, “You two are closer than anyone else here. You’ve been friends for like ever. Even before we started talking. I don’t remember a time when you two weren’t together in some way. Do you not see it?”

“Genya, if you’re implying what I think you are, I’m sorry to tell you that you are wrong.”

“She likes you back.” she said abruptly, giving you a knowing smile.

“As much as I would like to believe that, that just isn’t true. You said it yourself, we are really close friends. I would’ve definitely noticed it if she had a crush on me.”

“By the way you’re talking, you wouldn’t even notice it, if she would say it straight to your face.” she mumbled, displeased by your reaction to her previous statement.

“It’s Zoya. She rejected Nikolai! A king! Why would she ever fall in love with someone like me, if she had him as an option?” you sighed, anxiously rubbing your hands over your thigh.

“Why shouldn’t she?” Genya asked, a comforting smile on her face, “We don’t choose who we fall in love with. And you give her more than enough reasons to do so. A king is nothing more than a boy in a crown, Nikolai's father was the best proof of that. But you are so much more.”

“Genya, I really do appreciate your attempt at…whatever this is, but I can’t. I don’t want to ruin what we have.” you refused, standing up from the bench.

“Y/N-”

“I think I should go. I still have some work to do.” you deflected, already walking towards the back door, leaving your friend on the bench, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Genya sighed, she really tried her best this time, but she couldn’t force you to admit it. She just hoped that her previous comment didn’t do too much damage.

But she could only hope.

The next week was absolute hell for you and everyone involved. Zoya and you just continued to avoid each other as well as you could, which proved to be pretty difficult when it came to meetings or other official affairs. When you did interact, however, the conversations were kept brief and light. Genya noticed that you didn’t really eat breakfast, or any meal for that matter, anymore, in hopes to avoid any unnecessary confrontation.

After a whole week of watching you two, she decided that she had to do something - anything - to at least get you to talk to each other again.

So when she invited Zoya to eat breakfast with her, she had to drop some hints.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Z.” she smiled, sitting next to her, gnawing on some strawberry baked goods she had got from the kitchen, “I haven’t had anyone over since last week, and it’s getting quite lonely.”

Zoya looked up from her plate, a questioning look drawn on her face. She knew that you and Genya wouldn’t go more than a few days without seeing each other, so of course, she was concerned. Even though the memories of your last conference together, she tried to get a bit more information out of her.

“Hasn’t Y/N been over? She would never miss your new hot gossip.” she chuckled, trying to hide her unease.

The redhead looked at her, furrowing her brows and cocking her head slightly.

“Oh, she hasn’t truly talked to any of us, didn’t you notice? I went to her room yesterday, but she didn’t want to see me, nor speak with me. I thought that you might’ve already checked in with her. Haven’t you noticed her…odd behaviour recently? I don’t think she had a proper meal in like days.”

The squaller was getting quite anxious about the whole situation. Jealousy had taken over the functional part of her brain, which led her to ignore the girl she genuinely liked. She felt terrible for not acknowledging your change in demeanour. Primarily, she should’ve been your friend, a shoulder to lean on, but she didn’t act like it. She was tempted to ask Genya about your crush, and who she was referring to, but she bit her tongue. This was not the right time to let her own feelings.

“I- I didn’t notice that, no.” she said courtly, taking a sip of the almost cold tea, that she had disregarded earlier.

“I’m not quite sure what to do.” Genya groaned, running two of her fingers over her temples in a circular motion, “I was hoping that she had already talked to you, so I didn’t want to bother her any further. She would’ve probably preferred you knocking.”

“Maybe I should go and check in on her. Especially if she hasn’t had breakfast yet.” Zoya mumbled, looking worriedly at her friend.

“Maybe you should.” Genya smiled softly, feeling like her plan had finally taken on some shape, “Take some of the cakes with you, they are her favourites.”

With a quick nod, she grabbed the pastries, walking out hurriedly towards your room.

“Y/N?” she asked through the closed door after her previous knocks were left unanswered.

There was shuffling coming from your room, quick pacing steps walking towards the door. You opened the door meekly, giving the woman in front of you a perplexed glance. Before she said anything more, she took a few seconds to take in your appearance. Much to her relief, you didn’t look quite as bad, as Genya’s worries implied. But you still looked exhausted and quite timid, standing across from Zoya.

“Hi.” was the only thing you uttered, when you realized who was standing at your door.

You wanted to spy around the corner, searching for Genya, who definitely had her hands in this, but you didn’t want to appear any more suspicious.

“I uhm, brought you something for breakfast.” Zoya showed you the small tray she was holding, “Genya told me that you weren’t eating, so I thought I should bring you something.”

Ah, there it was.

“Thank you.” you said courtly, thinking about your next step.

“Do you mind if I come in?”

You shook your head, opening the door fully for her to follow you.

The room looked tidy, up until she looked at your small workspace. The desk was littered with papers, pencils and other utensils, that you used for filing documents or working on your tasks. That’s what you had been doing for the last week. Working. Zoya scoffed, but she also realized that Nikolai didn’t assign you any more tasks, knowing that he shouldn’t bring you to over-exhaustion. You overworked yourself on purpose.

“Y/N, are you alright?” she blurted out suddenly, watching you carefully, as you sat down on your bed with her trailing after you.

“Yes, why shouldn’t I be?”

Worry rose up in your chest. You couldn’t tell her, but judging by how this conversation was going, you wouldn’t be able to avoid it.

“You’ve been ignoring me - us - the whole week. I’m worried about you.” she said empathetically, laying a hand on yours.

You wanted to pull your hand away, not wanting to fall deeper into the void that was Zoya Nazyalensky. Even if you would, it wouldn’t help you, though.

“You haven’t been really talkative either, Zoya.” you retorted dryly, on the edge of breaking.

Zoya’s cheeks flushed. It was true, she had been trying to avoid you. Trying to not allow her heart to be broken into more pieces. She knew what she had to do, but she didn’t know if she had the emotional strength to do it.

“I know and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to walk out of the meeting like that, I just…”

“You just what?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about you liking somebody? I thought we were best friends?” she deflected, shifting uncomfortably.

“What? What do you mean?” you asked, dumbfounded, having already forgotten about the exact phrasing that Genya had used.

“The meeting last week? Genya mentioned your crush and I felt…weird that you hadn’t told me about it too. I thought we’d tell each other everything.”

You could feel the blush taint your cheeks quickly. You were really in for it now.

“There is a good reason why I didn’t tell you about it, Z.”

Even though Zoya’s heart leapt at you calling her by her nickname again, it was dropped just as quickly by you admitting that she kept something like that from her. She couldn’t say why you didn’t feel like telling her, and it made her nervous. Did she completely misinterpret the connection you had?

“You don’t have to keep secrets from me, Y/N. I would never judge you. No matter what.” she assured, taking your hand in hers and squeezing it.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

You sighed, keeping your eyes on your intertwined hands, in order to avoid her stare.

“You are the person I like.” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

Zoya wanted to keep her composure. She truly did. But this confession felt like a brick to her face. She had been shutting you out for an entire week, in hopes of getting rid of that jealous feeling that kept gnawing at her.

“What?” she exclaimed, trying to meet your gaze.

“I know, I know! It’s weird, I’m sorry. I should've kept it to myself.” you muttered, tears beginning to dwell up in your eyes.

You wanted to rip your hand out of her grip, but she just carefully squeezed tighter. Her free hand moved to cup your chin, raising your head to be at the same level as yours.

“Don’t.” she cooed, her own cheeks flushed red, but her usual cheeky demeanour back on her face, “I love you too.”

Your eyes were opened wide, left completely confused by this turn of events.

Before you could say anything else, you felt a soft pair of lips pressed against yours. She was actually kissing you. You kissed back softly, still trying to understand what had just happened.

When you pulled back, you were left breathless, back to staring at her like a deer in front of a pointed rifle.

Simultaneously, Zoya had also connected the dots, realizing that Genya had been behind all of this, even though some events didn’t go quite as well.

“I was your person of interest? I was fully convinced you were in love with somebody else!” Zoya laughed, shaking her head at the whole situation.

“Wait, so that means that you were jealous?” you chuckled.

“I wouldn’t call it jealous-”

“Oh, you so were.” a third voice interjected.

Your heads whipped around to see Genya standing at the door, a huge grin plastered on her face.

“I just came to check in on you two.” she added, looking quite pleased with her work.

“Genya!” you and Zoya called out, flabbergasted by your cupid’s actions.

#zoya nazyalensky smut #zoya nazyalensky x reader #zoya nazyanelsky #sab #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone #netflix shadow and bone #grishaverse fanfic #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse

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worldsentwined · 7 years

Text

The Key To Your Heart

For this week’s @synchronisedscreaming flash fiction challenge. Prompt: Aksel/Sigrun L - why did you lock the door? (Note: This is a 5 + 1 times story of a sort, and the fifth time involves a minor character death)

The latch clicked behind him, and Aksel nearly jumped out of his skin.

“S-sigrun? What are you doing?”

He generally tried to avoid being alone with her. Not because she liked to make fun of him--she did that anyway, no matter who was around to hear--but because he’d been harboring a massive crush on her for months. It had been hard enough before this Rash business forced them all into close quarters. With winter closing in and no one able to set foot outside the walls, it felt as though the two of them were constantly flung together.

Part of Aksel was all right with that. But the rest of him worried that one of these days he’d blurt out something stupid, and Sigrun would know. She’d never stop teasing him then.

So finding himself locked in the storage room where he’d been sorting supplies, and locked in with Sigrun, was a source of both joy and terror.

Did she find out somehow? Is she going to call me out on it? Is she...is she going to kiss me? Aksel had to shake his head at that last thought--Sigrun’s scowl didn’t invite kissing.

“I’m locking the door, stupid,” she said, answering the question he’d nearly forgotten. “If I have to listen to Ingrid and Gøran have one more argument about newspapers, I’m going to stab someone. At least in here I can get a little peace.”

“Oh.” Relief washed over Aksel, though he had to admit to a certain amount of disappointment.

“Why, what did you think?” Sigrun asked. She settled on the floor and leaned back against a box. “Worried I was locking you in here for a makeout session?”

“Shut up,” Aksel grumbled. Lucky for him the room was dimly lit. She couldn’t see his blush.

II.

“Did you just lock that?”

She propped herself against the door in question and met his gaze with a satisfied smirk. “Yeah, I did. So?”

“But...” Never mind that it left the two of them alone again--Aksel had faced plenty of fears in recent days, but he still couldn’t overcome this one. So instead he said, “Aren’t Gøran and Ingrid still out there? They were on guard duty tonight.” Which was poor planning, really. The two of them couldn’t stop bickering long enough to even notice a charging troll, let alone shoot one. Hopefully the foul weather would keep trouble at bay.

“Sure. And when they get back, they won’t be coming in. I swiped Ingrid’s key.”

“Umm...” He knew it was probably a stupid question, but he couldn’t help asking. “Why?”

Sigrun tossed the key into the air and caught it. “Because when they can’t get in here, they’ll have to find somewhere else to argue. Like Gøran ‘s room. Where Ingrid will have to stay all night.” She tossed the key up one more time, then hung it on a hook by the door. “Hopefully they’ll finally jump each other’s bones and sort out all that tension.”

“Oh my god.” Aksel hid his face in his hands. Then something occurred to him. “Wait. Sigrun, I live with Gøran. I don’t want to be there if they’re--if you think they’ll really--” he couldn’t even finish the sentence.

“Don’t worry, I planned for that,” Sigrun said. She waved him toward the bedroom. “Ingrid’s bed is free. We’ll say you stayed here late talking, and didn’t want to go home in the awful weather. The storm was so loud we didn’t hear Ingrid knocking.”

Aksel swallowed hard. “Oh. Okay, yeah. Sure.” He allowed her to push him toward Ingrid’s bed, and managed to return her “good night” after she extinguished the candle. But it was a long time before he managed to sleep.

III.

“Sigrun! Why are you locking--”

“Shut up Aksel!” She hissed the words out through clenched teeth and gestured for silence. Aksel shut up and listened hard, heart hammering.

On the other side of the wall, something moved. The door shuddered; Sigrun backed away slowly, careful not to make a sound. Aksel tightened his grip on his gun.

They couldn’t go back the way they’d come in; a leaky roof had rotted a section of the floorboards, and Aksel would have landed in the basement if Sigrun hadn’t caught him just in time. And now their way forward was blocked, too.

“What do we do?” he breathed.

Sigrun didn’t bother to answer, still focused on the locked door. It shook again; the hinges creaked. Thump. Thump. Thump-CRACK--

“RUN!” Sigrun shouted. She darted sideways just as the door flew off its hinges. Aksel’s bullet missed her--it missed the troll too, but he hadn’t really expected to hit it--and then she grabbed his arm and shoved him through the window.

They hit the ground in a shower of broken glass, dazed but unharmed. Sigrun didn’t let go of him until they’d gotten far, far away.

IV.

Sigrun sank onto the bed across from Aksel’s.

“Everything locked up?” He asked. It was hardly a question. The people in charge of quarantine would make sure they couldn’t get out until it was safe.

“Yeah.” For once, Sigrun didn’t have a snarky comment. She looked tired, and she was still a little pale from blood loss. The medic said her wound would heal fine, as long as there weren’t any...complications.

Aksel’s own scratch was hardly noticeable by comparison, but they both knew it could kill him just as easily. Or it might not. There was only one way to find out.

“I think the waiting is gonna be worse than the pain,” Sigrun said. She ran her fingers along her bandaged arm, then winced. “Or maybe they’ll both suck.”

“Well don’t touch it,” Aksel said, rolling his eyes at her. His grandmother had always told him that messing around with injuries just made it harder for them to heal.

Evidently Sigrun had heard the same lecture. “God, you sound just like Berit. If you’re going to go all grandma on me, at least come make yourself useful.”

At her direction, Aksel sat down beside her and settled against the headboard. The bed was short: his feet stuck off the end. It would be a long two weeks.

Sigrun leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder, propping her arm on a spare pillow. “There. At least now I can get comfortable. Don’t move, I’m going to take a nap.”

Aksel had no intention of moving, possibly ever again. Maybe the two weeks would go faster than he’d thought.

“That’s the last of them. I’m locking the door now.”

Aksel only nodded. There were words he should say, some phrase to express his appreciation for all Sigrun’s help over the last few miserable days. He tried to say them, once, twice, but even on the third try he couldn’t get them past the lump in his throat.

In truth, no words could encompass what he was feeling, just like there were no words to soothe him. The constant stream of visitors had said them all:

“She went out the way she would have wanted. She was a fighter to the end.”

“We never would have lasted this long without her. Your grandma left a legacy to be proud of.”

“She was so proud of you, you know.”

“Saved my life. Saved all our lives. Here’s to Berit!”

“Here’s to Berit Eide!”

None of it helped. The words were a wave crashing against the wall of his grief, and there was no escaping. Just when he’d thought the pressure would undo him, Sigrun had sent the last of the visitors away. Now it was just the two of them.

Aksel didn’t look up, but he marked her progress across the room by the sound of her steps. She settled beside him. Any moment, she might break the silence, and then Aksel would break.

But Sigrun didn’t offer any words of comfort. “I suck at this,” she said. “Even if I wasn’t sad too, I would still suck at it. So get over here.” She pulled him down--it wasn’t as far to go as usual, not with the way he hunched over--and tucked him against her chest. And she didn’t say another word, just let Aksel cry all over her.

“Sigrun?” He hardly dared to ask the question. “Why are you locking the door?”

She settled the bolt into place and turned to face him. “Because I don’t want to be interrupted.” Two steps brought her close enough to kiss--two steps, and tiptoes, and a hand on his jaw to bring his mouth to meet hers. “That okay with you?” she murmured, sinking back on her heels.

“More than okay,” Aksel agreed. It seemed like his turn to kiss her, so he caught her around the waist and lifted her up to reach. She laughed against his mouth, and brought her arms up behind his head.

“You planning to put me down?” Sigrun asked, when he paused for breath but made no sign of letting go. “Not saying you have to. This is nice.” She pressed another kiss to the tip of his nose.

“It didn’t seem fair to make you stretch,” he said. “I’m too tall.” Plus he didn’t really want to put her down. Holding her close was much nicer. Just like kissing her was better than not kissing her, and also better than he’d ever imagined kissing Sigrun Larsen would be in the early days of his silly crush on her. Then, thoughts of kissing had been all fluttery nerves and wistful hoping. Now, years later and with countless adventures shared together, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Sigrun smirked. “Well, there is a reason I locked us in your bedroom.” She leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Height won’t matter much if we’re lying down.”

Aksel laughed, and kissed her again before carrying her to the bed.

#stand still stay silent #synchronised screaming #aksel eide #sigrun larsen #my writing #I wanted to write some fluffy cuddling #which I did but also some terrible angst slipped in there I'm sorry #warning for minor character death

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ghostedgwen · 2 years

Text

scared to see the ending | p.parker

note : not me writing a lot of things with cheating elements in them to force myself out of my comfort zone with topics I write about - I honestly blame Folklore and ivy - hope you enjoy the angst here <3

warning/s : just pure angst, mentions of cheating, themes of cheating, gwen is alive and well, established relationship, lying and misunderstandings, no comfort bc i said so also unedited sorry

Peter has been off and you start worrying for your relationship, it surely doesn’t help that everything he did could only be deduced into one thing which you refused to believe.words : 3k

Peter was cheating on you - well, you don't know that for sure, but - it was the most plausible explanation. He has been cancelling some plans, acting very weird and really twitchy whenever his phone would go off.

You didn't want to entertain the thought at all - Peter has been the best throughout your relationship and has never given you any reason to doubt him. At all.

And you loved him too much to even think of the worst from him, and his love for you was evident. Still, the fear planted itself once you started noticing the telltale signs.

You shrugged it off at first, maybe it was something else and you're being paranoid? Peter can't be cheating on you, that wasn't him and you refused to believe he could do something like that to you.

But the catalyst serving as the hand that tipped over the first domino piece was when he was starting to come home later than usual. You understood his job was demanding and he had very weird hours with his stupid boss having terrible work ethics.

It was never like this though. He would always text and he would always send you messages throughout to check in, now you lay in bed all alone waiting for him as you stared at the digital clock on your night stand.

Reading the time as it kept passing and it was 2 am when he finally came. You heard the front door open and you shut your eyes, waiting for him to enter the bedroom and he shortly did. With eyes closed, you listened in as he made his way around the room.

You felt his knuckles brush against your cheek before he pressed a kiss to your temple, then walking away, opening the closet to grab a change of clothes and then heading to the bathroom where he took a quick shower.

You counted, it took him 10 minutes before he climbed in bed and his arms were immediately on you.

Pressing a kiss to your head and dragging your body close to his, you pretended to be asleep still and decided against letting him know you're awake and asking him where he was. You wanted to remain ignorant.

Because if the worst was truly happening, then you'd rather live in blissful ignorance just to keep him.

The next morning, you sat with your coffee mug in hand and he walks out of the bedroom looking dishevelled. You sat stiff and frigid, looking at him through the rim of your cup and he frowns at your unusual display.

"Good morning?" That came out more like a question.

You set the cup down on the table and give him a small smile. "Good morning, where were you?"

You saw it, the short moment of panic in his eyes before he answered. "There was this big thing last night - a new villain and Spider-Man was there so the boss wanted me to get the scoop."

You believe him. It would be stupid of him to lie about something big and something you can easily fact-check so you let it go - given as his first instinct last night after coming home was to kiss you still - you had hope.

He walked over, seeing how disturbed you looked and gave you an expression of concern. "Is everything okay?"

You heave a sigh. "Yes," you give him a curt nod. "I was just worried about you."

"I know, I'm sorry - "

"At least send a damn text, Pete." You tell him exasperatedly and he nods, leaning down slightly to level gazes with you.

"It was too sudden and dangerous so it slipped my mind," he initiated a short but sweet kiss and you pull away with a small smile. "I promise not to forget again."

"Good, you want some coffee?"

"Yes please."

You weren't following him. This wasn't you - you weren't the type of person to trail after someone just to prove you were right or confirm your suspicion but you just happened to be catching up with an old friend in the farther side of the city when you saw him.

You got invited to coffee by an old friend you had in elementary and catching up was nice -you two weren't too close but it was nice to look back on the memories and share them with someone.

Talking about the past with such enthusiasm over coffee for two hours proved to be a highlight of your week. For those couple of hours, you forgot the whole situation with Peter and your own stressful work.

On your way out of the coffee shop - you spot Peter in the streets and frowned. He said he was at work, just now and his job is nowhere near where you were. You couldn't have mistaken him for someone else -

You knew Peter and that bag he had on was the same one he refuses to change since you two were in high school. Claiming there was some sentimental value to it and so you gladly patch up the holes he'd mysteriously get on it.

Your body moved before your mind could fully process what you were doing. You exit the coffee shop and walks across the street to trail after him. Keeping enough distance to not be caught and being close enough to not lose him in the crowd of pedestrians.

You kept your eyes on him and walked hurriedly until he abruptly paused, fishing for his phone - you suddenly had the sense to grab your own and called him. You watched as he received your call and frowned when he let it ring.

Watching his phone go off and not answering your call despite being perfectly able to do so. You wanted to approach him to ask what's going on and you almost did - getting one step closer when a car pulled up in front of him.

The windows rolling down to reveal - a girl?

She had blonde hair, you can see that much from where you stood. You watched as they exchange words before he got in the car and they drove off.

Your hands were shaking at this point, you try and call again - this time he answered it after ringing three times and you could feel your hands go numb. "Peter?"

["Hey - sorry, I'm at work so I couldn't answer your call earlier."]

Lies.

"Where are you right now? Like, specifically?" You ask him, nibbling the inside of your cheeks, anticipating his answer.

["What? Why are you asking that?"]

"Just answer me, Pete."

["I'm at work, you know - the office."]

You felt the tears finally come - why would he lie about being at work after getting in some girl's car? It didn't make any sense.

Or it did but you were too deep in denial to accept the truth you witnessed before you.

["Are you feeling lonely again?"] you heard him chuckle. ["I'll bring home some of your favorite snacks later when I get off work, I love you."]

You dropped the call. Not bothering to say those words backs, not when you didn't know if he meant it still after everything that just took place. Despite being in the middle of a busy sidewalk, you crouched down and hugged yourself as the tears kept coming.

After picking yourself up and off the busy streets - you went home and took a long shower where you went over the events in your head.

It could be something innocent - there was no solid evidence of him cheating on you despite the whole car thing but what else could it be? He was surely hiding something because you knew all his friends and he didn't have many of those.

You knew Harry and Flash but that was about it, he didn't have female friends and you'd think he'd introduce you to one if he did. You always joked about being sick of boys when hanging out with his group -

So why lie?

All the dots connected to one word and you still refused to accept that. That wasn't your Peter, he would never and you knew he would never.

You are battling logic here and you were playing a losing game with yourself as you allowed the fear eat you alive under the steady stream of warm water - it took you an hour before you got off and got dressed.

Then another hour just staring at your reflection in the mirror, slowly picking yourself apart to maybe justify why he did what he did if he is cheating. Trying to find out where you went wrong, if you had been lacking in any way.

You admit you looked different from when you first got together but it wasn't as if you change all that much. Your hair was different and you were slightly taller, that was about it - what could have possibly urged him to betray you like that?

You didn't even realize how long you spent in bed, staring at the ceiling while the questions danced around in your head until you heard the front door and realized he was home. That's how long you spent deep in your thoughts.

You didn't notice the time passing by and so he's home and you're still yet to gather yourself.

Peter walks in, calling out your name but you failed to answer. He knew you were home, he could smell you and the strong scent of your shampoo from across the hall and he wondered if you fell asleep.

He was early this time so expected you to be up, he dropped the groceries on the kitchen counter before making his way to your shared bedroom. Seeing you stare blankly at the ceiling and he frowned.

"_____?"

You didn't react at all, he cautiously approached you and sat on the bed.

"_____, babe?"

"Where have you been?"

"I told you, I was at wo - "

You abruptly get up, startling him and you turn with a blank expression - it was worrying him how stiff you looked and he racked his brain to come up with reasons why.

"Where the fuck were you, Pete?"

His face slowly contorted into one of pure shock and horror. Did you figure him out? He was so careful not to slip and have you find out he was Spider-Man but he admits he has been lacking lately.

The new villain thing distracted him and even he was starting to realize how weird he's been acting around you. Doesn't help that he almost died two night in a row now, coming home to you has been scary.

He constantly had to check if he was being followed or anything. The last tyhing he wanted was Spider-Man being traced back to you so he took extra measures everytime he'd come home from patrolling.

"What's going on?" He asked, already on edge and threading carefully.

You get up from the bed and glare down at him.

"I know, Peter," you could feel the tears come again, you thought you'd lost the ability to cry after doing crying in the shower for an hour. "So, just please be honest with me."

Peter lets out a sigh and gets up as well.

"How long have you known?" He asked and you felt your heart break into a million little pieces.

Why is he acting like you found out something you shouldn't have? Like you were supposed to remain oblivious to his affair and be the ignorant girlfriend for the rest of your life?

"I had a feeling - for weeks now but I found out just today." You managed to answer, despite your breaking heart and the onslaught of tears.

"I'm sorry I didn't know how to tell you - "

You release an exasperated sigh, both surprised at his audacity and the hilarious thought of him casually opening up about cheating on you. You bit your lower lip in frustration and only released it to ask the question :

"Who is she?"

Peter was taken aback. "What?"

"You already admitted to cheating on me, the least you could tell me is her name."

"Cheat - what?"

Now it was your turn to also be confused. "The girl whose car you got in after ignoring my call, do I get a name or?"

"You mean - you thought I was - what?"

You took in his confusion, and it did nothing to help your current situation. "Are you or are you not cheating on me, Peter?"

"God, no!" Peter stepped forward and you can see it all on his face. He was telling the truth - so there's that, you got that part wrong but then he must be hiding something else.

"Then what are you hiding from me?"

Peter hesitated, he struggled to come up with a proper response. You were talking about something entirely different, and he was an idiot for digging himself into this giant hole that will be impossible to get out of.

"There's no easy way to say this - I'm Spider-Man," he shrugged and watched your reaction. Expecting you to maybe laugh and urge him to admit the truth but you only stared. "And Gwen - she helps me with being Spider-Man."

You were still silent so he thought to continue talking and explain further.

"We met during her internship at Oscorp and it was by pure chance she found out about me - she's kept my secret since and she's - she's my best friend," Peter visibly gulped. "I didn't introduce you to her because I never wanted you to be in the Spider-Man business like she was. It's too risky."

That wasn't the craziest thing you had to learn today, so you stayed quiet, absorbing the information. You could always tell when he was being honest, so you knew he wasn't telling a joke -

And letting it ride to ease out of this situation. Your boyfriend is spider-Man.

He finally shuts up and stops rambling to dump information on you in an attempt to justify himself and you cleared your throat. Giving him a slow nod and crossing your arms.

"Why?"

"Why what?" Peter frowned.

"Why tell her and not me?"

"I didn't tell her - " Peter threw his hands around. "She found out by accident!"

You click your tongue in annoyance. "Okay then, why not tell me after she found out?"

"I had to keep you safe - this isn't about Gwen. I needed to keep you safe and Spider-Man attracted all kinds of danger."

"So you don't care if she dies?" you asked, raising a brow and holding back from scowling at him. "Is that it?"

"What? No!" Peter stepped back, face contorting into one of pure confusion.

"Then what makes it different?"

"You're my girlfriend and she's - she's my best friend."

That made no sense to you whatsoever, but to some degree you understood why he would think it makes a difference. You have been dating him for half a decade, so you knew him well enough to understand that much.

Still did not make you feel better though.

Peter bit his lip, his frustration was building up. He never expected you to find out this way - or even at all, he wanted to keep you safe and away from the dangerous life his other half leads as much as he could.

But now it's all coming down on him at once and having you look at him that way hurts.

"Put yourself in my shoes, ____." He shrugged, unable to stop himself from saying those words and you scoff, he immediately realized what a mistake that was.

"I never would have kept this from you," you shook your head. "You know that."

"That's not fair, _____." Peter stepped forward again, reaching for your hand, but you pulled away.

"Is it?" You ask, scrunching nose up, voice laced with sarcasm.

"I did this for you," Peter lets out an exasperated sigh. "I was keeping you safe!"

"I was your best friend too, before we were together, and I would have never kept something like this from my best friend," you tell him, vision beginning to blur from the tears welling in your eyes. "Let alone my boyfriend."

"You have to understand, _____, I was - "

"Oh but I do," you give him a tight-lipped smile. "You didn't trust me enough to show me this side of you, to let me into your world."

"No, that's not it. You know that's not it, _____."

He tried reaching for your hand again but you stepped aside to dodge him. "You couldn't have possibly expected to do this and keep me in the dark forever."

Peter stayed silent and that was the only answer you needed, you slowly nodded to yourself - holding back a chuckle from the terrible comedic element of it all.

"So I don't deserve to know you as a whole?" you run a hand through your hair in frustration, keeping it there with your elbows in the air as you suck in a breath. "Not even after spending 5 years of my life loving you."

"_____, no - "

You stop him, pulling your hand out of your hair to signal him to stop and he abruptly did. "I need some time alone," you began stepping away but Peter grabbed your hand, holding you in place by lightly gripping your wrist. "This is all too much for me."

"____, please, don't leave angry."

"I'm not angry - I was, but not any more," you shake your head at him and managed a small smile. "Just betrayed and sad."

Peter felt his heart broke at that statement, his grip loosened in response and you slip your hand off his. You can see the regret painted all over his face and you recognized it, he truly didn't mean any harm but you can't just ignore the aching in your heart.

"Please don't let me go to bed knowing you're hurt." Peter pleaded one more time but you've made up your mind - for now, at least.

"Well I went to bed every night for five years not knowing who you truly were, you can manage a week or two."

And with that, you left. You can already feel yourself regretting everything that took place but that was the love you had for Peter coaching you into his arms. What he did hurt and you would need time to process.

You're not stupid, you knew it was for you and in his mind he really thought it was for the best but that did nothing to ease the pain. Maybe you'll get over it, you always did but you allowed yourself to hurt now.

Five years. He had so much time to tell you and yet he didn't - you deserved at least a week to be petty and be in your feelings over this whole situation.

end. masterlist

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter x reader #tasm! peter parker x reader #andrew!peter #andrew garfield #andrew!peter x reader #andrew garfield fanfiction #andrew garfield peter parker #spider-man #spider-man x reader #spider-man imagines #tasm!spiderman x reader #the amazing spider man

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tempobrucera · 2 years

Note

Damiano for no 63, with angst and fluff please

Thank you, nonnie :)

Prompt List I Taglist

If you use anything out of my writing or feel inspired by it, you ask or you link back to the fic. Thank you. If you don't, you're blocked from now on. ***

"What are you doing here?" The question slips out before you can hold back, before you even have the front door opened completely.

Damiano looks at you with a mock hurt expression on his face, shakes his head and squeezes himself past you into your flat: "Making your evening better, obviously."

Looking after him, you notice that he put some proper clothes on. Blazer, button down, a pair of dark jeans, even some dress shoes. It makes you feel like you're underdressed to a party no one invited you to which is taking place in your own living room. Only dressed in your oversized hoodie that almost reaches your knees, your underwear and probably still a few tears in your lashes, you follow him.

"How do you know?", you ask him. All of them knew that you would have a date tonight but Damiano is the one you didn't tell that the guy cancelled when you just closed the door behind you to leave. Neither did you tell him about the person that stood you up two weeks ago having you waiting in a restaurant for ages, or that Victoria and Thomas both showed up at your table for two pretending terribly to be friends that are so very sorry to be so awfully late or that you cried because you felt so stupid and unlovable when the two of them brought you home. Maybe you just don't want his pity, maybe you don't want the hug as a consolation price, not from him. Maybe it's just that things are a little bit weird between you, since you made out together three weeks ago. Thomas walking in on you, trying to be decent covering his eyes and never bringing it up again. More awkward is just that Damiano and you also never talked about it afterwards, getting you back into the dating pool, clearly failing.

"Vic texted me", he gives you a small smile while sitting down on your worn couch, "She said you could probably need some cheering up from someone else this time."

"She told you about that one too, hmm?" Don't look at him, you tell yourself. Instead you play with the strings of your hoodie, looking at your own fingers.

"Yes, doesn't matter now though." Silence. More silence. "I reserved a table, so if you want to change, otherwise I'm gonna take you out like this."

You almost laugh at it, just almost: "Sure", you say. "And ... thanks, really."

When you are dressed to go out again, you already feel more at ease again. Damiano offering his arm to link your arms together walking to the trattoria he chose almost makes you beam. You get a table in a quite corner and it's the first time that you think that the evening might not be as terrible anymore. Picking drinks is easy, picking food not so much. How are people able to decide with so much choice? In the end, you're between two dishes but you still can't decide when your waitress approaches again.

"Have you decided what you would like to have?", she asks. Smiling at you first, then looking at him.

"Yes", Damiano answers and you shake your head at him slightly, "We're taking whatever two dishes the beautiful lady here wants and can we have bruschetta as a starter, please?"

You order and he answers your question before you can even ask: "If you can't decide, we can just share."

It's easy after this, you talk a lot, no akward silence. Places you want to see, dishes you failed to cook lately, something you both watched recently, stuff from band practice you only understand partly sometimes when you're honest and before you know it, your starter is long gone and you're half way through your main already.

It almost feels like a proper date when he takes your hand on the table. "I wrote a new song."

"Oh?" You wish, you could hide your excitement but it's hard and you know that you're failing when you see his smug smile.

"Yes, I wrote a song about a tortilla." The first two seconds you think that you lost your mind because what did you just hear but there's no time to overthink it further. "Actually, it’s more of a wrap."

"What?" There's so much confusion going on in your brain, before you can process what was just said and then when you get it, you just laugh. You have to laugh so loud that one of the patrons at the bar is looking over at you. "Did you really just say that?"

"I know, it's a bad one but ... I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh at one of my jokes before." Just now you notice that he's still holding your hand, "So I had to get creative here."

"Where the hell did you get that from?"

He plays with one of the rings on your hand: "Ethan. Victoria and Thomas almost pissed themselves, laughed like little pre-schoolers. So I thought, I try if it works on you and it did."

The rest of the evening passes by far too quickly for your likening. Somehow you coax him into ordering dessert as well, sometimes holding hands while eating. Now you're sure that you're beaming.

When the waitress is getting your bill, Damiano chuckles slightly: "I have another joke, if you want to hear it?"

"Bring it!" Now you're at least prepared for what's to come.

"What did one dish say to the other?", he asks.

"You tell me."

"Dinner is on me!"

This time you at least try not to laugh but you give in fairly quick, you have to admit and now both of you're laughing: "Did you just tell me that dinner is on you?"

"Yes, I'm paying", he looks at you, holding your hand once again, "You had a shit evening, just let me make it better, even when I just pay for your food."

"I had a pretty good evening, actually." You're not going to deny him hearing that, even though it looks like someone is trying to fish for compliments.

When you're leaving he links your arms together again, you talk and laugh so much that you don't realise where you are actually walking to until you stay in front of his house instead of your own building.

"I'm sure I have more wine", all of a sudden he looks a bit unsure but only for the fraction of a second, "Also the cats would love to see you, and I wouldn't mind looking at you for a little while longer as well."

"Damiano." He wasn't this close to your face a moment ago, you're sure of this. Just before his lips touch yours, there's an annoying noise coming from your jacket. Your phone vibrating in your pocket, a few times in a row.

You sigh, but you still get it, looking at your messages. You almost start laughing again while answering.

Thomas

hope your evening was good in the end? :)

if it wasn't, i'm sorry and it was 1000% vics fault

i hope i'm not interrupting anything

again

i'm interrupting again, aren't i?

fuck.

sorry.

You just write back What are you on about, Vic wrote him? and YES! YOU ARE!

The answer comes so fast, you don't even have time to fill in the blanks for Damiano.

i nicked her phone, he wouldn't have listened to me

SORRY!!!!!! don't kill me i still want to live a few more years

gonna leave you alone. have fun!

Damiano is standing behind you, when you put your phone away, apparently still being able to see the last name in your messages.

"This boy", he grumbles, "Honestly, can he just not for once?"

Now you do have to laugh again: "Did you notice that wasn't Vic? He got you to mine in the first place, you better say thank you to him. Not now though, now you kiss me."

"Should've known, it really sounded too nice", he says. Looking at you and pulling you a little bit closer, "Now I kiss you?"

"Yes, and then I'm going to say hi to the cats while I get more wine and maybe - maybe more kisses."

This time around there's no interruption for once.

***

Taglist: @teatrodellavita, @teenyweenynightghost, @findaqueenwithoutaking, @its-afucking-mess, @maneskinbrainrot, @writingmaneskin, @ethaneskin, @maneskin-dimensione, @l0standn0tf0und

I had fun but I have the feeling I cannot write Damiano. Sorry <3 Thank you for all the lovely prompts as well, I'm gonna get to some of them on the weekend, hopefully, after I posted something else that's a bit overdue 👀 Look at me writing blurbs ... 1k words later, what happened. Also me trying to write fluff ... Look at these idiots.

#maneskin fiction #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin imagine #maneskin x reader #damiano david x reader #damiano david blurb #maneskin #måneskin #damiano david #blurbs #damiano #fanfiction #my writing #:all.#:writing.

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nnight-dances · 2 years

Text

ATTENTION TO THE SOUL

pairings: kazuha x gn!reader

genre: fluff, angst

note: i'm sorry for being dead i'm going through the worst writer's block of my life.. :( so yeah this piece is also dead but i really wanted to write kazuha lately. promise there will be good stuff as soon as i recover <3 till then, thanks for stickin around <3

to put it lightly, you’re going through a rough patch in your life. everything is a lot and you have to keep reminding yourself to breathe and every time you try to force yourself to complete any one of the piling assignments on your plate, you either shed a tear or yawn your way through the hours. and in all monotony and hurt of your life right now, is your boyfriend, kazuha.

you eye him, almost resentfully, across the room as he easily laughs with a group of his friends. his friends because they’re all older than you, by a year or so. and though you’ve never felt tangibility of your ages when you’re with kazuha, the burning hell that the past week has been is making you second guess yourself.

well, that and your half-friend-more-foe called childe. he’s been your best friend forever but in the forever you’ve known him, he’s been at the steering wheel of your worst decisions. which is why you need kazuha in your life, with his calming hand on yours and his eyes never really leaving you, even now as he stands on the other side of the room.

“are you just going to stare at him all night?” childe pipes up after having witnessed you mindlessly glower at your boyfriend.

“i don’t know, maybe i am.” almost as if he’d heard you, kazuha appears beside you, cold fingers brushing you hair away from your face, just so he can lean in to kiss your cheek.

your heart warms instantly at the tender gesture as kazuha mumbles to you, “come with me. m’friends wanna meet you.”

“ah- no, that’s fine,” you reply, even as you allow kazuha to take your hand in his.

“you haven’t met them yet, have you?” his eyes dart between you and childe. you turn to childe to stop him from saying anything but you’re too late.

“we saw them on our way here. they had some... thoughts about you and y/n dating. not very kind th—”

“wait, shut up,” you throw a slap at childe’s arm, swatting him away, “don’t you have somewhere to be, childe? can you—”

“is this true, y/n?” you groan as kazuha grows concerned and you turn to explain, “we did hear them but it wasn’t—”

“they think y/n’s too young for you, apparently,” childe interrupts like the fucktard he is, “and just before i run, this is a bad week to be calling y/n immature. okay, toodles.”

you sigh when childe slips through the crowd and away from you, leaving you alone with kazuha who pulls you closer, eyes swimming with guilt already.

“kazu-”

“are you okay? what happened this week?” before you can answer him, he continues, hand retracting from yours as he hits his own head, “i’m sorry, i should’ve been checking up on you. i’m sorry i didn’t—”

“it’s okay, kazu, i know you were busy with your own life,” you kiss his nose, pulling him back to you as he frowns, wiping at your cheek. “you know childe told me about how you were crying because of me.”

you wince, averting your gaze, “i... i was just a little lonely, is all.”

he wraps an arm around your waist, “that’s what i’m here for, love, for you to talk to me. okay? please, i know this week was terrible and i’m sorry i wasn’t more involved.” you nod as you hug him with a contented sigh, suddenly not tired at all.

“would you like to dance with me?” you chuckle, nodding as kazuha pulls you to the middle of the room and you frown as he pulls you close, beginning to sway with you lightly, “are slow-dancing to edm right now?”

kazuha’s kisses your neck with a breathy laugh, “i think we are.”

#kazuha x you #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact kazuha #kazuha kaedehara #kazuha x y/n #kazuha fluff #kazuha angst #kazuha x reader #gender neutral y/n #genshin impact angst #genshin imagines

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wildernessuntothemselves · 3 years

Text

I'm Yours, You're Mine | 7

Word Count: 4k

Genre: Smut, angst

Warnings: yandere!felix, sub!felix, dom!felix, sub!reader, dom!reader, mentions of violence, character death, drugging, noncon, breeding kink, binding, doggy

GIF CREDIT @christopherbanq

You wake up in a warm embrace, surrounded by the sweet, vanilla scent of Felix. Opening your eyes, you’re met with the splatter of his freckles that seem to glow under the sunlight. Everything feels perfect. It feels right, and you wish you could stay in this moment forever, protected from all that has happened or will happen. But you can’t, the memories of last night’s darkness creep around the corners of the brightly lit room, seeping the warmth out of it until everything is plunged into darkness.

Felix opens his eyes, his bright sparkling eyes, unaware of the darkness surrounding him, his ignorance protecting him. But his light diminishes as his gaze focuses on you.

“Noona, why are you crying?” He asks, arms pulling you even closer to him to the point where you don’t know where your skin ends and his begins.

“Chan…” You sputter, little sobs rattling your chest now. Felix frowns sharply, “Did he do something to you?”

You shake your head, your tears now flowing down your cheeks. “He’s in the hospital. Someone attacked us while we were coming back from the cinema yesterday.”

Felix bolts upright, pushing you at an arm’s length and scrutinizing every inch of your body. “Are you hurt?”

“No, but Chan is.” You wail, throwing your arms around him and burying your face in his shoulder. “He’s hurt really bad.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” For the first time, Felix doesn’t comfort you, his body rigid in your embrace and you hesitantly pull back to look at him. He is completely still, a numb look on his face. And you suddenly realize how thoughtless you’ve been. Despite their fight, Felix and Chan have been best friends for years, way before you met either of them. You should’ve told him as soon as it happened.

“Is he going to be okay?” His lips quiver as he speaks, his eyes terrified and looking through yours for help, and you could smack yourself for being so selfish.

“Oh, baby.” You breathe, pulling him into your embrace again. “I’m sure he’ll be okay.”

_______________________

He wasn’t.

Chan hasn’t woken up by the time you both visit him in the hospital, and the doctors were giving you vague responses every time you tried to ask about his condition--if he’s going to be okay, if he’s even gonna make it--and that petrifies you.

“We’re doing the best we can, but I can’t say anything for certain. He’s in a really bad condition.” The doctor informs you after you’d asked for the millionth time. You nod heavily and he lets you know that he’ll be there if there is anything else you need before he leaves. Yeah, right. The doctors were basically running from you at this point. You weren’t stupid. You knew what it meant.

“Thank you, doctor.” You mumble. You feel guilty, like this is all your fault for wishing for Felix to come back, like somehow this had been a bargain by a cruel god, giving you Felix back but taking Chan away.

As soon as the doctor leaves, Felix falls to the floor beside the bed sobbing. You run to him and wrap your arms around him and he immediately leans into your touch. “I did this.” He wails and your body goes stiff, your breath stuck in your throat, choking you.

But then he continues, “I wished for this the night he threw me out. I was so angry at him, but I never wanted it to really happen.”

Your body turns to jelly, the fear that had gripped it was so intense that it left no energy in its wake, and you can’t even caress Felix’s back to comfort him.

_______________________

The police interview you over and over, asking you to remember if there is something about the man who mugged you that you’re forgetting that could help identify him. You don’t have to force yourself to remember, you see him in your dreams every night, and every night you wake up screaming, poor Felix having to comfort you and kiss you back to sleep, never once complaining.

Through it all, those few agonizing days, you held a terrible secret close to your chest. You felt wretched just thinking about it, but you couldn’t help it. You knew he was going to die anyway. You just wished it would happen sooner than later so you could properly grieve instead of being stuck in this fake limbo, pretending like you think he’s going to make it, even to Felix, so that he wouldn’t completely break down.

You go to visit him less and less until you stop completely, which doesn’t paint you in a very favorable light in front of law enforcement or the doctors, letting Felix go on his own to the hospital every day. But fuck them. What do they know about the pain you’re going through? The guilt?

When it finally happens, you can’t believe it. They say he coded in the night and they tried to do everything to save him, even brought him back a couple of times, but it was ultimately useless. He was gone.

You had to see him for yourself to believe it. You went alone. Felix couldn’t bear to look at his best friend’s now dead body. He begged you not to go but you needed to.

As you gaze across his face, you’re thrust back to that night. You had heard that dead people often have a peaceful look on their face, but Chan didn’t look peaceful. It almost looks angry, accusatory, asking you why you weren’t there for him.

He doesn’t forgive you, but it’s okay. You don’t forgive yourself either.

_______________

The case officially turned into a murder investigation following Chan’s death. His body was handed over to the coroner to do an autopsy and try to gather any forensic evidence left, but neither yielded much information, and the police had no leads.

Soon, the case turned cold.

As for you, you had moved in with Felix,, unable to step back into your apartment without Chan. Fearing that in doing so you’d be acknowledging that he’s gone, and then his spirit would remember to come back to haunt you.

Felix takes such good care of you, even though he’s the one who has the right to be hurt more. He stuck around you all the time, making you feel safe and comforting you. He also kept his distance as much as he could. You could tell he wanted to seek comfort in your body, to help each other through this pain, but you were selfish as always. You only let him comfort you. You never comforted him back.

As the months passed, Felix started getting more and more needy, making you feel even more wretched even though he never said anything. He loved you and you loved him, but Chan’s death had pushed a wedge between you. You couldn’t touch the younger boy without feeling guilty. It felt like you were cheating on Chan more than you ever did before, and so you kept Felix at a distance.

For his part, Felix never outright made an advance on you, respecting your need to grieve, but you could tell from the boner he’d get every time you kissed him even a sweet innocent little kiss or put your arms around him that he needed more, and it made you feel even more horrible. You couldn’t help Chan when he was alive and now you can’t help Felix. You felt like the most selfish fucking human being in the world.

So when you’re woken up from sleep one night, feeling hot and with something hard poking against your ass, you decide to finally give back.

“Noona...” Felix whimpers into your ear, nuzzling his face in the nape of your neck, making goosebumps erupt along your body. You weren’t ready to go all the way yet but at least you could give him some release.

Turning on your back, you guide him to straddle you and let yourself slip into the right headspace. "You dirty little thing, humping your noona in her sleep?"

His eyes light up when he realizes that for the first time in a long time, you’re reciprocating, and he sighs in relief, starting to grind his hips against yours. Tantalizing, you lower the straps of your nightgown, a delicate pink satin piece that Felix bought for you, to expose your tits for him. He hums appreciatively, reaching out to touch, but you slap his hand away. “Only look.”

He shudders, nodding, and humps against you faster. "Noona, please, fuck me. Fuck your dumb baby."

"No whining." You reprimand, lifting his shirt up to his mouth and he obediently bites on it, muffling his noises. With the shirt up, his boxers are exposed, and you watch as every time he thrusts forward, the tip of his dick pokes out from his boxers, red and leaking. “And I thought you’d thank me for being so nice to a pervert like you.”

Felix pants around the fabric in his mouth, his dick dripping over your panties. Placing your hand on his ass, you feel the muscle clench and relax as he ruts desperately against you. “Is this how you wanna fuck noona? You think your little dick can make me feel good?”

He pushes the shirt out of his mouth with his tongue and babbles. “I can noona. Just let me put it inside.” He grabs his dick and runs the head of it over your clothed slit, making you shiver at the stimulation. Then he pushes the head against your hole but is prevented from pushing in because of the underwear “Just let me put it in, noona.”

“You’re a greedy little kitten aren’t you? Put your hands up to your chest, kitty.” You order, and he reluctantly obeys. “Now stick your tongue out and pant for me.”

He does so with a flush, looking like a cat in heat. Absolutely filthy.

“That’s it. That’s a good, boy. Putting on a show for noona.”

He nods happily, high off the praise you’re giving him. "I'm gonna cum for you noona. Watch me cum for you."

“I’m looking, little whore. Cum for me.” You purr, cupping handfuls of his ass as you encourage his now sloppy thrusts.

Felix cries out, cum spurting out of the tip of his cock and landing on your pretty silk nightgown. You tut disappointedly, “Look at the mess you made, kitten. You ruined my nightgown with your filthy cum.”

“I’m sorry, noona.” Felix pants, not looking sorry at all. In fact, he looks enraptured by the sight in front of him. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

He falls over your chest, suckling on your breasts gently as his breathing slows down and becomes deep as he falls asleep.

_____________________

That’s how things go for a long while. Just you helping Felix take the edge off without actually going all the way. You can tell he’s disappointed. He must’ve thought that this was the start of you reigniting your relationship, but you still can’t get yourself to be there for him in the way he needs you. And despite you acting romantically together and going on dates, you never officially acknowledged that you are in a relationship, and you can tell that this, more than anything, hurt him the most.

You feel pity and self-hate fill you up as you play with the boy’s hair, his head resting on your lap.

“How do you like the cocktail?” Felix asks lazily, taking you out of your thoughts.

You blink and take another sip of the drink he made you, appreciating the taste on your tongue. It’s actually pretty good, and you tell him exactly that. “But it seems quite strong. I’m a little lightheaded already. What’s in it, kitten?”

Felix giggles as he presses a finger to his mouth, making a shushing sound. “It's a secret.”

You smile fondly at him, soaking up his laughter along with the afternoon son, the calming rhythm of lix's breathing and the strong drink making you feel sleepy. You decide you’re gonna ask him if he’d like to take a nap with you, but before you can form your words, you abruptly get much sleepier, your eyelids turning to lead as they struggle to stay open to the world spinning around you.

You finally manage a little groan, attracting Felix’s attention. He looks up at you in question and his curious eyes are the last thing you see before it all goes black

_____________________

You wake up feeling hot and sticky. Groggily coming to, you blurrily see a mop of blonde hair over your exposed chest and feel wetness over your nipples. Despite your heavy head, you can immediately tell it’s Felix, and your thoughts trudge along as you try to think of what you were doing last but the memory is too fuzzy.

You’re easily distracted when you feel his moans against your skin as he kisses and suckles on your breasts, his hips dragging over your thigh needily. You try to move your hands to push him away, confused and mad that he is touching you without permission, but you only hear the sound of metal clanking as your hands stay above your head, and with a panic, you realize that you were shackled to the bed.

At the sound, Felix lifts his head up and smiles at you sweetly, as if nothing about this was weird. “Noona, you’re awake!”

You stare at him in bewilderment, and he finally realizes what’s wrong. Sheepishly, he explains, “I’m sorry. You were taking so long to wake up and I couldn’t help myself.”

His words don’t really make the situation much clearer. "What is happening? Why am I bound?"

He smiles, moving up your body so his nose is touching yours. "You've been bad noona, rejecting me for so long. I tried to wait. I tried to be good for you but you still kept rejecting me. So I decided to push things along a little."

"What?" You ask, throat dry.

"I put a sedative in your drink so you'd pass out and I can play with you." He explains cheerily, like that was a completely normal and benign thing to do.

"What the fuck, Felix?” You shout, pulling on your shackles in alarm. “You're crazy."

"Crazy over you." He giggles, pinning your hands to the bed so you wouldn’t struggle. “Now stop or you’ll hurt yourself.”

“You’re the one who is hurting me!”

He frowns. “Don’t say that, noona. I’ve been taking good care of you, haven’t I?”

“And you think that gives you the right to drug and assault me?”

His frown deepens at that, all air of playfulness gone from around him. “Stop. Saying. That.” He grits, “I can’t assault you when you’re mine.”

He leans back and palms at your breasts greedily, his thumbs brushing over your wet buds, and you struggle to not arch up into his touch, a fresh wave of arousal sticking your shorts to your pussy even more. “You’re so perfect, noona.”

"Let me go." You cry, gradually getting more and more panicked.

"I'll never let you go again." His voice is gruff and it sends a shiver down your spine as he rubs his fingers over your clit coarsely. “So stop this or you’ll make me really angry, noona.”

You still immediately, thinking back on what he did last time he got mad. You could still feel the suffocation gripping your throat.

“If you’re wet, noona. I’ll know you want me too.” He pulls back from your chest and slowly peels your shorts down your legs, a gasp escaping him when he is undoubtedly greeted by your underwear sticking to your slick, puffy lips in arousal. “I knew it. Fuck, you’re so sexy.”

He grabs the top of your panties, pulling them up so they’d rub over your pussy, teasing you and delighting in watching you involuntarily squirm. “You’re so sensitive, noona.”

“It’s okay. I’ll take care of you.” He slinks your panties down your legs then pulls your thighs up, spreading your legs wide for him, and moaning out in appreciation. “Ah, fuck, noona…so hot.”

His fingers slowly rub over your exposed, drenched pussy, driving you crazy with the deliberate, wide strokes. You have to fight hard to not close your legs around him. “Want more, noona?”

You bite down on your tongue. You won’t give him the satisfaction of admitting it out loud. Resolutely, his fingers trail down your pussy and into your warm, tight heat, and you can’t fight back the gasp that is ripped from you. You shake as his fingers ever so slowly pump in and out of you. And when he puts his mouth on you, your moans flow out, not caring anything for your ego.

Felix moans into your pussy, eating you out slowly too, maddening slow as if he was kissing you. The wet sounds of his lips and tongue on you make you burn in shame and arousal.

He stays between your legs a long time, driving you mad, his tongue deliberately moving along your folds and and his lips sucking on your sensitive skin, while his fingers stay inside your pussy and relentlessly but equally as slowly rub against that sweet spot inside you. You feel the burn gradually build in your body, it fries your brain and by the time you cum, your entire nervous system is on fire.

He climbs up your body, looking down at you with the most fucked out look on his pretty face, his eyes absolutely glazed over with lust as he bucks his crotch against you and kisses your mouth the same way he did your pussy. You taste yourself on him so clearly it feels like the taste is imprinted on his tongue forever.

Pulling away, a trail of saliva and cum connects your lips. “Need you to fuck me.”

“Let me go, baby.” You coax gently, hoping he won’t get upset if you’re sweet. “Let me go and I'll fuck you."

He shakes his head, "I know you're lying to me, noona. I know I have to break you in first before I let you go."

You pale, bile rising up your throat at the ominous words. "Break me in… how?"

"You’ll see." He giggles, craning your neck up and kissing your skin harshly, growling in between the sloppy kisses, "But when you're over those worthless boys, maybe you can fuck me again. I hate being a bad boy but this is the only way to make you see."

Pulling back from your stinging neck, he presses his dick to your entrance. Your pussy spasms around the tip of his dick, and he chuckles deeply. “Look how needy your pussy is for me. Noona was wasting time being a little slut and letting those bastards touch her when she could've had me." He says reproachfully, as if you were a misbehaving child, and it makes your anger flare up and overpower your fear.

"I don't want you, you freak." You spit out and he slaps you, hard, the force of it busting your lip open. Taking a deep break, he calms himself down and smiles again. "Now that's not very nice, noona. After all I've done for you." He leans down and licks at the drop of blood that sprung from your lip, moaning at the taste.

"You made me wait for so long, noona. I can't wait anymore." He shakes a little, as if it really was hurting him physically to hold back. Pushing into you, he lets out a shuddering cry. "I love you so much. You're finally mine."

You arch your back as he buries himself all the way inside of you, and he takes that opportunity to bend down and pluck one of your nipples into his mouth. You whimper against him, making him speed up his thrusts.

“I’m making you feel good, aren’t I, noona?” He grunts, keeping your legs wide open as he fucks into you but you don’t reply, angering him. Suddenly, you’re flipped onto your stomach, and he pushes himself between your spread legs so you can't close them, plunging his dick back inside you. “You will not ignore me, noona. I will not allow it.”

He steadies himself on both sides of you and leans over you, trapping you under him and fucking you hard and slow, trying to get as deep inside you as possible despite his size and making you shiver as his dick drags against your walls. He gradually speeds up, his dick gliding easily over the track it made, overwhelming your poor pussy.

He fucks you so well, and you’re entirely, completely ashamed of how good it feels. It seems like he is intent on humiliating you, his dick hitting the sweet spot inside of you perfectly with each thrust, and your pussy keeps clenching around him more and more as the sound of your flesh smacking together fills the room. You’re transfixed under him, eyes squeezed shut and mouth hanging open with your back perfectly arched to receive his thrusts, and soon, he grunts into your ear, "I'm so close."

Your eyes snap open urgently. “Pull out. I'm not on birth control. You can’t cum inside me." You explain hastily. You had stopped taking the pill ever since Chan had passed away. You weren’t fucking Felix so you felt no need to take it.

"I know, noona." He says and you almost sigh in relief, fully expecting Felix to whine but pull out. But to your horror, he continues, "Gonna breed you so you'll never leave me again."

Your breath catches in your throat and your nerves go numb. You sob, “Felix, please no. Pull out, baby please. I won’t leave. I’ll stay.”

“You will.” He promises you, and doesn’t pull back. Instead, fucking you harder and spanking your ass as he grunts loudly, "Take it like a good noona."

He empties himself inside of you, his hot cum flooding your pussy, and to your great shame, that pushes you to cum too, your pussy milking him obediently. He praises you happily, "Good noona, taking all my cum. Your pussy knows you belong to me."

You think he’ll be done now, having fucked you and filled you up. But to your horror, he turns you on your side and embraces you from behind. Lifting one leg up in the air, he starts fucking you again. With how wet you were and his previous ejaculation, wet lewd sounds fill the room along with his low grunts and your breathless gasps.

He spends the whole night fucking you, taking you in every position conceivable and making sure to empty every little drop inside of you, apologizing for being a bad boy and promising you that he'll take any punishment you give him once you’re pregnant with his baby and he can be sure you'll stay.

The worst part is that he makes sure you cum too, seeming intent on not allowing you any space to later claim like you didn’t enjoy yourself, murmuring praises into your ear every time you orgasm. "Good noona, cumming around my cock. Kitty is so happy with you. You wanna cum again?"

You are almost passed out when he’s done fucking you. Leaving you used up and sprawled out on the bed, he gets up to retrieve something. When he gets back on the bed, you purposefully don’t look at him, expecting him to now try to suck up to you and get you to forgive him.

But he doesn’t say anything and you suddenly jolt at the sharp sting you feel along your inner thigh. You look down in horror to see felix carving something with a knife onto your skin. His own name.

You shout and begin to struggle, only to quickly realize that you shouldn't be moving around with a sharp knife so close to your genitals, and Felix is aware of that too. He ignores your tearful pleas and pained screams until he’s all done. Brandishing the now bloody knife, he whispers conspiratorially, “Wanna know something, noona?”

You don’t reply but he doesn’t care, smiling as he pushes the knife to your throat. “This is the knife I used to stab Jisung.” Your stomach drops and your blood beats frenziedly against the knife pressed to your skin. “It’s also the same knife I used to kill Chan.”

You stay frozen in place, not even breathing, not even blinking.

"I didn't want to kill him. I really loved him. He was the only one I was willing to share you with but he left me no choice.” He goes on, pouting slightly as if he was lamenting losing his favorite mug. “But it’s better this way. Now you’re all mine. And once you're broken in, I'll let you use this to mark me up too."

____________________

A/N: let me know what you think of the ending. I love to hear it!

#stray kids smut #felix smut #sub!felix #sub!idol #yandere!felix #dom!felix

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 4)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself. except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 5.3k

warnings: smut!!, overstimulation, oral f receiving, lots of dirty talk and begging, very very subtle d/s dynamics if you squint, slight angst??, awkwardness, pining

Bucky’s heart was racing as he tried to prepare himself for what was coming. It was never easy to watch that scene of you being fucked by somebody else— even if it wasn’t real, and even if it was technically your character that was getting fucked— but it was going to be an entirely new struggle with you a foot away, laying next to him on your bed.

“We only did two takes of this,” you remembered, talking over the conversation on-screen. The smash cut to you being shoved against a wall, lips fighting for dominance in a searing kiss, made you chuckle. “This we had to do, like, a million takes.”

Bucky’s hand tightened into a fist at the idea of you kissing this guy over and over. “I’m sure he was real broken up about that,” he grumbled sardonically.

“No, I promise he actually was,” you defended, “I was terrible. I kept laughing and ruining it, and it meant we had to keep starting over.”

That relieved some of his jealousy, hopeful that laughing meant you weren’t attracted to your co-star or turned on by filming a love scene. He still felt his heart clench as he watched your shirt get pushed up and two hands (both flesh, like he was showing off or something) grab at your breasts. Sooner than he was prepared for it, you were being thrown down onto the bed and moaning loudly, nails digging into his back as he stared down at you.

“I can’t even imagine how many guys have gotten off to this scene,” you shuddered.

I can’t believe I’m one of them, Bucky thought as he swallowed dryly. “What about the guys on set?” he wondered aloud. “Do they ever, you know, get…” he whistled and pointed his finger up straight, hoping it was enough to get the idea across.

You laughed, playfully shoving him on the shoulder. “They have tape for that, to keep everything down in case they get a little too into it.”

Glancing to the screen, he wondered how this guy didn’t pop the tape right off.

“Have you ever…?” Bucky pressed, heart rate picking up as he pushed the boundaries a little bit.

“Have I ever… been turned on, while filming?” you finished his question. “No,” you scoffed, sounding bemused and taking another swig of your drink.

“Why not?”

“I guess they’re just not my type,” you shrugged.

“Movie stars aren’t your type?” Bucky joked, but your answer was completely serious.

“Nope.”

He nodded slowly as he contemplated that, taking a moment to build up the courage to ask his next question. “What is your type?”

You smirked a little, and he wasn’t sure at all what it meant aside from the fact that he was done for. Whatever you were gonna say was sure to break his heart. “Tall, dark, not famous…”

He could so picture you picking up fans at bars; you must have no trouble at all finding guys to mess around with. Yep, totally heartbreaking.

“Good driver…” you continued, voice a little quieter and a little deeper.

Bucky cleared his throat anxiously. “I guess that rules me out.”

“What? You’re great; haven’t even blown any red lights or made illegal U-turns.”

“I mean, good drivers don’t eavesdrop on their passengers,” he explained, “especially when they’re with tall, dark, not-famous friends of theirs in the back.”

You laughed a little, half-lidded eyes looking him up and down. He felt very exposed under your gaze. “I didn’t mind,” you shrugged.

Oh god, oh fuck, Bucky’s mind raced, we’re talking about it. All this time and we’re finally talking about it. What the fuck do I say? “I still shouldn’t have—” he began.

“I wanted you to,” you interrupted firmly.

“You… wanted me to look?”

“Wanted you to do a lot more than that,” you admitted.

He looked back at you with wide eyes, entirely devoid of thoughts or words or ideas on what to do in the moment. Sure, it was pretty heavy flirting, but it wasn’t necessarily an invitation. You said wanted, past tense, it didn’t mean you wanted him now. Maybe you were just letting him know he missed his chance. If he did the wrong thing and upset you, he’d never forgive himself.

“Seemed like you were pretty satisfied with what he was doing,” he remembered, hearing the waver in his voice and cringing.

“Only cause I was thinking about you,” you grinned. “I do that a lot, actually. I’m just usually alone when I do it…”

He shivered as you shifted onto your side and leaned towards him, reaching across his body to set your beer down on the bedside table next to him; with you so close, he feared his heart would beat out of his chest. With the beer set aside, all you had to do was let your hand pull back to rest on his chest, and lift your leg up to rest on his, and you were straddling his side like it was the most simple, casual thing in the world.

But it wasn’t. It was the most insane thing that had ever happened to him. He looked down at you and blinked a few times, confident the hallucation would end but nope, he could feel the warmth of you radiating through his clothes, threatening to burn him alive.

“I’m usually in this bed, right here,” you continued slowly, and he had trouble keeping track of what you were saying with your finger trailing along his chest through his shirt, “warm under the covers, wearing a lot less than this, knowing you’re just a few rooms away and wishing you would come in here and touch me…”

"I’m here now,” he replied, just louder than a whisper. “Can I touch you?"

“Take off the gloves,” you requested softly. He was quick with the right one, but hesitated before removing the left— the moment of truth. Your breath hitched as the light caught the golden and black metal, and he winced.

“That bad?”

“No, no,” you denied, “it’s… sort of beautiful, actually.”

With you wrapped around his left side, it was natural for his right hand to move up your thigh. His left hand brushing against your face seemed to surprise you, though.

"I'm sorry, is it cold?" he asked gently.

"A little," you giggled, "but I don't mind."

Demonstrating how little you minded, in fact, you slowly kissed the tips of his bionic fingers, getting more and more adventurous until you were suddenly slipping two of them into your mouth and down past your throat.

"Fuck," he shivered, silently thanking whatever gods were out there that technology made him capable of feeling the wet warmth of your mouth on his fingers.

"Just skin everywhere else, right?" you smirked. "It's not a Swiss army knife down there?"

"Nope," he laughed, "flesh an' blood."

The blood aspect was especially salient as his cock filled so fast he thought he might pass out. Your hand slipped down and started to ghost over the front of his jeans, and he fought every instinct to keep from bucking up into your hand. You started to go for his belt but he sat up a bit.

“Wait,” he requested, clutching your shoulders a little; as soon as you looked back at him, he pulled you into a kiss, probably a little too aggressively but he was too pent up to care. After all this waiting, he actually had to hold himself back a bit compared to how he really wanted to kiss you. He moved his lips against yours slowly but with determination— and it was you, in the end, that started to slide your tongue along his lips until he opened them, giving him a chance to taste your mouth like he’d dreamed of for so long. Past the beer was the unmistakable flavor of you, and he was instantly addicted to it. His arms wrapped around you and held you close, one hand tangling in your hair a bit as you started to lean into his palm. Your hands clutched at his shirt, the warmth of your touch managing to permeate through to his skin, and he heard the softest moan from you right against his lips. It was perfection, and he would’ve been happy to stay like that forever if it weren’t for you sitting up to straddle him. He couldn’t decide if it was the sight of you on top of him, or the weight of your body on his, or the feeling of your thighs clenching a bit just above his throbbing cock— it was probably all three, but he suddenly became so needy for you that his head was spinning.

Still absorbed in the kiss, he reached down and gently pulled at the knot holding your robe shut, letting it fall open before pushing it off your shoulders slowly. You smiled against his lips and sat up, taking it off the rest of the way to reveal your entire nudity underneath. You’d think that he would’ve wished to be naked with you, and that certainly would’ve made a few of his ideas a lot easier to act upon, but something about your bare body compared to his covered one— something about your mound grinding on his jeans like that— drove him fucking wild.

“God, baby,” he praised with a purr, running his hands all over whatever he could reach. A movie could never do a body like this justice. It deserved to be appreciated and worshipped in person, which was exactly what he planned to do.

“Your turn,” you giggled as you leaned down, unbuttoning his shirt hastily. He was proud of the way you bit down on your lip as his skin was exposed, though he was also a bit embarrassed to reveal he was wearing his dog tags underneath. “A little more metal under here than I was expecting,” you smirked, trailing an errant finger over the silver chain. “There’s always more to you than meets the eye… what other secrets are you hiding, hm?”

Right now, he wanted you to have all his secrets. He wanted to give you everything. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he admitted first.

“I don’t think that’s that much of a secret,” you smirked as you finished the last button.

He sat up to help you discard the shirt, shivering as your touch trailed over his chest, his abs; then his scars, and the rest of the arm. He used it to pull you down by your neck for another kiss, testing the waters by getting a touch rougher and letting more of his desperation seep through. You responded very well, your moans gliding from your tongue onto his as your hips started to rock on top of his. “Needy little thing, aren’t ya?” he gently mocked, smiling as he started to kiss down your neck and onto your shoulder. “Ridin’ me through my jeans, like a damn teenager dry-humping after prom.”

“Hnng, Bucky,” you choked, slowing down.

He grabbed your hips with both hands. “Hey, I didn’t say to stop.”

With a moan and renewed vigor, you moved faster on top of him, the rough denim clearly a bit too much for your sensitive clit as your thighs began to quiver where they were clamped down around his. The stimulation on his cock, alternatively, was rather dulled through such thick clothing— it was just enough to keep him desperate, but not enough to get him too near coming, which was the way he wanted it at the moment. If anything, it was the sight of you rubbing yourself on him desperately that put his restraint at risk.

“Can you feel how hard I am, baby?” he growled a little. “Can you feel how hard you make me?”

You nodded with a little gasp. "God, Bucky, I want it in me now."

"Not yet, pretty girl,” he soothed with a smirk. “I need to taste you first."

He flipped you onto your back and settled on top of you between your legs; he kissed you one more time, resisting the urge to rub his hips on yours again before heading down south to suck your nipple between his lips. You were so sensitive, moaning loudly each time his tongue circled the bud, and he moaned at the feeling of the skin hardening against his tongue. He made sure to give some attention to the other one before making a show of kissing down your chest and stomach, looking back up at you with a stare that he could only hope carried all the weight that he was feeling.

"I get it," you grinned down at him, "this is how you reclaim your territory. You're gonna do what he did to me, but so much better until I can't even remember his name, right?"

"Sweetheart, you didn't even remember his name thirty seconds after it happened,” he reminded you between kisses, moving lower and lower on the bed.

"So you're not trying to assert dominance over sexual competition?" you pressed with a gleam of challenge in your eyes.

"You need to stop reading those evolutionary biology books," he laughed, but then got a bit more stern. "Think of it this way: I don't see any of those stupid boys as competition. They're nothing. It's you who needs to know that nobody can make you feel as good as I can."

That seemed to shut you up for the moment, and he smirked before getting back to work kissing along your spread thighs and shaking hips. He could already smell your need in the air, intoxicating to the point that he struggled to stay focused on mercilessly teasing you. He wanted to taste you so bad, but he needed to hear you beg him for it. He started with one finger gently exploring your folds, slow and light, until he felt your hips trying to push up into him for more stimulation. Then all he had to do was kiss that spot right on the inside of your thigh that wasn’t quite where you wanted him, and you arched your back with a desperate whine. “Bucky, please,” you whimpered.

He laughed a little, amused by your little sobs and the way your hands clutched at the comforter beneath you. “Tell me what you need, sweetheart.”

“Your mouth,” you gasped.

“Where do you want it?” he asked innocently.

You snarled with irritation but answered anyway. “My pussy.”

“I don’t think I understand,” he encouraged, voice getting deeper on accident as his own arousal became too intense to ignore.

You growled frustratedly but got what he was getting at. “I need your mouth on my pussy, Bucky, please…”

“Well, why didn’t you say so, darlin’? All you had to do was ask,” he grinned as he roughly grabbed your thighs and buried his face in between them, sloppily exploring you with his tongue until your taste coated his mouth and overwhelmed all his senses.

“Fuck!” you yelped, shivering against him. “Oh god, yes, Bucky, oh my god…”

“Is this what you wanted, pretty girl?” he asked, pulling back just as much as he needed to to speak.

“Yes, Bucky, just like that,” you nodded wildly, “feels so good, don’t fucking stop, please—”

He dove in again, finding a pattern that allowed him to suck on your clit and push his tongue inside you simultaneously. That was the combination that seemed to rile you up most, your hands searching for something to hold on to until they suddenly found purchase gripping his hair, guiding him as your hips bucked against his face. That was fine with him— more than that, in fact, cause he thought it was so sexy when you demanded control like that— until you switched from pulling him in to pushing him away. That wouldn’t do at all; with a growl, he grabbed your wrists and forced them down beside you, holding them firm as he licked at you rougher and faster.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you sobbed, back arching so much that he had to fight to keep you in his mouth, “right there, right there— oh fuck, I’m gonna come.”

He nodded, but it wasn’t permission; it was ‘of course you are.’

Your walls clenched so hard that your entire sex was pulsing in his mouth, your taste getting stronger in the same way your moans got louder. He wanted to hold you there as long as you could, and that turned out to be quite a while; he stopped when your screams of pleasure started to push too far into pain, finally letting you rest… for a moment, that is.

He watched your panting breaths catch as he slowly pushed a finger into your hole; it was still pulsing a little bit from the orgasm, and was unbearably hot and wet.

"Fuck, this pretty little pussy is tryin' to suck me in, you see that? Wants me so bad…"

"M-more, Bucky, please," you whispered. He obeyed and slipped in a second finger, slowly twisting and trying to open you up for him.

"You like that, pretty girl?" he asked with a smile as he watched your back arch, returning to suck on your clit without waiting for an answer. He relished the weight of your thighs on his shoulders, taking mental note of where he had to touch you to make them clench around his head. You kept repeating 'yes' but he didn't think it was intended as an answer to his question because he was pretty sure you hadn't even heard the question. Still, it was answer enough nonetheless.

He could tell it wouldn't take that long to get you there again, with your g-spot all swollen from the last one. He didn't push too hard on it yet, just letting his fingers curl ever so slightly to apply a teasing amount of pressure.

"Don't you wanna fuck me?" you moaned between sobs.

His cock seemed to process that question before his brain did. "Yes," he answered quickly, even though he thought it was rude to talk with his mouth full.

"Then get on with it," you suggested desperately. "Come on up here and fuck me."

"I'm not done with this yet," he insisted.

Your head fell back as you hissed frustratedly through your teeth. "Damn you and your… thoroughness."

"No point in doing anything if you're not gonna do it right," he laughed. "Besides, I couldn't stop now when you're about to come."

You looked back at him for a second like you didn't agree with that assessment, until he curled his fingers again and your walls rippled erratically around him. "Fuck," you shuddered. “Please fuck me, please fuck me, please,” you sobbed, “I need it so bad, I need you inside me— Bucky, pleasepleaseplease—”

He growled against your skin, struggling to resist that but desperate to make you come just one more time before he gave in. His cock really hated that he wasn’t giving you what you wanted, throbbing and weeping another drop of precum just to remind him of his own desperation. But he stayed strong, focusing on his task as he felt your walls tighten around him with another orgasm.

You nearly screamed with this one, your voice breaking as your nails dug into the bed beneath you. You looked fucking perfect with your head thrown back in pleasure like that— and you tasted even better as a gush of your arousal coated his tongue.

He kept circling your bud with his tongue until you started to sob a little and try to push him off of you, “can’t take anymore, please—”

And he took pity on you, for once— or maybe it was moreso pity on himself as he sat up and palmed himself through his jeans. He was so hard it hurt, and you looked like you could tell by the way you looked up at him: a glimmer of mischief in your eyes, still, even with the way they’d glazed over a bit from coming so hard. “Get over here,” you purred as you sat up and pulled him down on top of you, kissing him again as your hands slipped down to clutch at his chest.

Of everything he’d imagined, he had never even thought to consider what it would be like to be undressed by you. Those nimble fingers fiddling with his belt, working open his fly and zipper with such unabashed desperation, like you needed him more than you’d ever needed anything… truly, it was intoxicating.

Then again, it was nothing compared to your hand slipping into his boxers and wrapping around his cock. He was sure he’d never gotten so much out of just one touch before, and he had to fight off the moan bubbling in his throat. Your hands were so soft as they started to gently stroke him; his hips moved of their own accord as they started to thrust into your grasp.

“God, I need you to fuck me,” you groaned, “please, Bucky, need it so bad.”

Entirely speechless as this point, all he could do was nod as he pushed your hands off of him, pushing his jeans off quickly so as to be away from you as briefly as he could manage— and then he was on you again, kissing you everywhere he could reach, moaning when he finally let his cock brush between your legs for a moment. Even just that and he was already coated in your slick: the rewards of demanding to be thorough, clearly.

“Please,” you sobbed, “put it in me, can’t wait any more, I’ve waited so long…”

It almost made him stop to think, because it was ambiguous if you just meant tonight or more. But you were begging him for his cock so he wasn’t really in any position to think.

So many times he had wondered if your real moans sounded anything like your fake ones from the movie. He fantasized for months about a chance to make the comparison. But with you in front of him, under him, biting down on your lip as he pushed into your perfect warmth, he couldn’t even remember that you’d ever been in a movie. He couldn’t think about anything else but this moment, right now, and he didn’t want to.

“God, Bucky,” you sighed, as if the two were being regarded at the same level in your mind— and he wasn't even halfway in yet.

Equal parts of him wanted to ease you into it and to tear you in half. You'd always ignited this paradox in him, this instinct to protect and to destroy, this desire to cherish you and dominate you, but it was most apparent now. It made him worry that he could never really give you what you deserved, but naturally, he was at his most selfish in this moment. He had only just begun to push himself into you and he was ready to justify anything to get the rest of the way and bury himself to the hilt.

Your body opened up to him slightly, enough that he felt mostly right about going a little deeper; you gasped and clutched at his forearm, and that was only just barely enough to stop him as a sick pressure of arousal made his gut twist. Oddly enough, your nails biting into his skin did more to egg him on than it did to slow him down.

He kept his eyes trained on where your bodies were joined, watching in awe at the way you looked stretched out around him; he could feel your struggle to take him in the way your walls quivered and quaked, but he could hear how much you enjoyed it as you moaned and gasped beneath him.

"I want it all, Bucky, please," you begged. Just because he needed to, he was rough with the last inch— not enough for it to be really brutal, but plenty to elicit a precious little sob from you.

It felt so good to be all the way in you that it nearly made him dizzy.

"Baby," you whispered, and it sounded just like the way you'd said it in the back of the car, just like the way he'd committed to memory and stowed away in his mind to visit whenever he needed to feed his addiction.

How could his chest not burn with jealousy when he remembered that night? How could he cope with that jealousy with anything but pinning you down and fucking you hard and fast like it was the end of the goddamn world?

You all but screamed as he did it, your whole body shaking as he pounded into you. He feared it would be more than you could handle but you went from wet to dripping in an instant, your moans loud and hoarse but undeniably a sound of pleasure. It turned him on even more to know that you liked getting fucked this hard; maybe he didn't need to worry so much about holding back, if this was gonna make you bite your lip and look up at him like that.

"Bucky, oh my god," you sighed, a hint of disbelief in your tone, "it's so good, fuck, you feel so good…"

He wanted to hear more, but he couldn't resist capturing your lips in a kiss first, sloppy and aggressive and needy but overall perfect. It was almost like he could taste your moans as they vibrated over his tongue, until he could barely tell his apart from yours anymore. Pulling back, his dog tags were dangling over your face, and you looked so damn good with his name tickling your skin.

When he lifted your legs and pushed them back up into your chest, you snarled and clutched at the sheets beneath you. "Too deep?" he asked, not sure himself if it was concern or taunting or somewhere in the middle.

"So fucking deep," you answered, "but not too deep."

"Then maybe I'm not deep enough," he smirked, and you laughed.

"You're trying to ruin me, is that it?" you pressed.

He was afraid to be entirely honest, but your tone wasn't one of fear. "Something like that," he admitted after a moment.

"It's working," you sighed as you pulled him down by the chain of his tags, kissing him again as your arms slipped around his neck and held him close.

His hands squeezed your thighs, before taking a detour to run up and down your legs. It made you shiver, and he felt it from inside you which was overwhelmingly erotic. The time he’d spent making you come so many times was paying off: for one, you were so wet it made him feel a little-lightheaded, but also it meant that he felt familiar with your body now. He knew what it meant when your walls tightened just so, when you bit your lip that way, when your moans sounded all breathy and strained. That being, of course, that you were about to come— and he couldn’t wait for you to come just from being fucked, make a mess all over his cock.

And yet, there was still so much more to discover: like how it felt when your legs wrapped around his hips to keep him inside, or when your fingers dug into his shoulders as you looked up at him.

“Gonna come,” you warned him with half-lidded eyes and your mouth fallen slack, “oh my god, Bucky, you’re gonna make me come.”

He growled and tightened his grip on your thigh— something to stabilize him as he fought so hard to stave off his own orgasm. You felt so good and he could probably come just from the sight of you like this anyways, let alone being inside you right now. Think about baseball think about baseball think about baseball—

“Yes!” you screamed. “Right there, oh fuck, Buckyyyyy!”

“Fuck,” he hissed, completely unable to think about anything but you, lost in the way you cried out his name as your walls fluttered and pulsed around him so perfectly.

Maybe he was disturbed for thinking you looked pretty with your eyes filling with tears. He was definitely disturbed for taking some pride in making you cry. Of course, only because he was making you cry from this. If he had it his way, Bucky would make you cry in only this way, every day, forever— and make sure nobody made you cry in any other way, while he was at it. You hiccuped your sob as he continued to pound into you, refusing to let up even as he leaned down to kiss away your tears. “S-so good,” you mumbled weakly, “Bucky… please…”

"Fuck, gonna come— I'm gonna come," he stammered his warning.

"Inside me, please," you whimpered, "I want it inside me."

"Jesus Christ," he hissed, shaking his head in some form of exhausted shock. You grinned, wrapping your hands around his neck and pulling him closer to you until your lips brushed against his ear.

"Bucky, I want you to come inside me," you repeated in a slow whisper. "I want every drop of your come in my pussy, I wanna be so full of you, I wanna feel it leaking out all night, I want you to make me yours."

How was he supposed to hold back anymore, with you talking like that? With you weaving your fingers into his hair and tightening your legs around his hips, with you kissing him deeply and suddenly? A weak moan was lost to your lips as he filled you, warmth washing over every part of him until he thought he might just melt. You smiled against him, and he summoned just enough strength to not collapse on top of you and surely crush you with his weight. Instead, he gave you one last kiss before burying his face in your neck, laughing exhaustedly.

"Mine, huh?” he remembered. “You really mean it?"

You hummed quietly, holding him tightly. "I probably shouldn't answer that question just after you made me come a dozen times."

"No no, you should,” he pressed as he pushed up to hover over you.

You smiled and looked back up at him. "I'm yours, Bucky."

He growled, leaning down to give your neck light teasing kisses. "Fuck, keep talkin' like that and I'll double that dozen."

"My body couldn't take it," you asserted.

"I'd make you take it," he promised.

You bit down on your lip, and he couldn't help but chuckle a little. You weren't as good at feigning innocence as you seemed to think.

"Oh, you like that," he posited. "Maybe someday I'll tie you down and make you come until all you know how to do is say my name, hm?"

"Bet it wouldn't even take you that long," you admitted. "I already feel pretty braindead."

Testing that theory, he reached down and drew light circles over your swollen clit with his thumb, even just that subtle touch making your legs and inner walls quiver as your back arched.

"Bucky," you whimpered as you tried to push his hand away, "s'too much, please…"

"Nuh uh, pretty girl, I wanna see you fall apart again. You know how many times I dreamed of making you come?"

You shook your head.

"Me either, but I wanna keep doing it until I feel like I've reached a number that at least comes close. I've finally got you in my arms and I won't let you go until I've made up for all the time I wasted."

Notably, his cock which had begun to soften inside you was now getting hard again, from some combination of watching you and feeling you in this moment.

“How do you feel about a second round?” he suggested with a smirk, even as his muscles ached already. Your eyes went wide but your walls clenched, too. That was answer enough for him. “I might break you,” he warned.

“Promise?” you smirked.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you

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mynotsohealthyobsession · 3 years

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Unexpected bond

Book: Bloodbound (between book 2 and 3)

Pairing: Adrian Raines x Lily Spencer (friendship) / Mention of Adrian Raines x MC

Words: 1.960

Rating: Mature

Warning: Angst / Mention of violence, death and harassment

**Tags in the reblog**

His jacket was on the floor, where he had thrown it a couple hours ago. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up as his forearms rested on his knees. He had his eyes shut and his back against the wall. His breathing was erratic and faltering, incapable of calming down. The powerful aura that he used to have, had completely disappeared, leaving him broken and defeated, looking as terrible as he felt inside. Whoever knew him beforehand and saw him at this moment, would doubt that that was actually the same Adrian Raines.

His hands had remnants of dried blood, the same that had coloured his white shirt, red. His body was still healing some wounds, cuts and a few broken bones, and bruises as result of their confrontation with Gaius. Every time he breathed, he felt a stinging pain in his chest but he couldn't care less. He had decided to not move from there no matter how long it took. Maybe she woke up before the expected, scared or disorientated. Maybe her bloodkeeper condition made it different for her and she needed some kind of help. Or maybe… Simply, he just couldn't leave her side. Whatever the reason was, he had decided to stay there, in Raines Corp.’s basement, near the sarcophagus in which, and he desperately hoped it was the case, Amy's body was changing, slowly transforming into a vampire.

As a couple of tears slipped on his cheeks, passing through the bloody print that her hand left on his skin as he held her, he couldn't avoid thinking how afraid he was of losing her, to face the world without her. Amy had saved them, after he had promised her he would protect her, she sacrificed herself for them. For him.

He squeezed his eyes tightly, letting his head fall back, against the wall. No matter how hard he tried, the images kept replaying over and over in his mind, in a horrible and constant loop. Amy taking the branch, getting close to Gaius. Her pained gasp as the sword went through her chest and emerged from her back. How his throat hurt from yelling her name, incapable of doing anything else but watch. The fire in her eyes, using the last of her strength to stab Gaius as her blood slipped down in the hilt of the sword onto Gaius' hand. Her little smile before she noticed that her knees gave up and hit the floor first as the rest of her body fell down. How quickly her skin became pale and cold as he held her, knowing that there was only one thing that could save her. How, mortally injured, she cupped his face, almost happy that they had 'won', even if right now it felt like he was about to lose everything that was important to him.

"Adrian?" His eyes flushed open, seeing Lily down the stairs. Her eyes puffy and bloodshot, all her usual energy and almost childlike happy mood, had disappeared. For the first time since he had met her, she seemed like an elderly woman who had lost against life itself. She sat beside him and offered him a pack of blood and what seemed to be a clean shirt.

"Thank you Lily, but I don't need it."

"You do." She gave him a broken look. "You think she would be okay seeing you still hurt?" She placed both things between them. "You are important to her, Adrian. She did what she did to save us. To save you."

"She shouldn't have done it! Now she's--" His voice abruptly cut, incapable to even put into words his fears and torments.

"I know." Lilly replied, distractedly fiddling with one of her rings. "But she's brave and her heart is bigger than anyone I've ever met." A pained smile lifted her lips a little. "Amy would never watch us die if she could avoid it. You know that." She fixed her stare on him, her voice a bit shattered. "Exactly like you or any of us would have done for her if the rolls were reversed."

"But I couldn't." His mind returned to the night before, when they had sleep holding each other. It felt so far away. "I promised her I would protect her no matter what and I couldn't. I failed her." It was the first time they shared this kind of conversation and time alone. It was obvious that Lily had a stronger relationship with Jax, like Adrian had with Kamilah. But, even if they were worried and sad too, right now, the pain Lily and Adrian were feeling, was different from theirs and had brought them together. "I should never have allowed her to get involved in this." To his surprise, she giggled.

"If you think you could have told her what to do, I'm sorry but you don't know her as well as you think." Adrian chuckled a bit alongside her. Lily was absolutely right about that.

"Did she ever tell you about the first time she saw me transformed, on her first day of work?" He wasn't sure why he asked her that. Probably because it was the moment that he realized that she would be special for him, even if he didn't know how much.

"Only a few parts."

"In almost 300 years a lot of people had learned the way she did about all this. And most… If not all of them, begged to forget, to return to their old lives." Despite himself, he smiled at the memory. "Amy… She just stood there. For a little while, she got scared, of course, but… She didn't run or scream. She started to ask me questions, curious, looking at me the exact same way she did all that day. Before her eyes, I was still… Me. She even joked about Nicole being dramatic during the feeding." He let out a sorrowful and shaking sigh. "I took her to Priya's fashion show and she told the security that she was my partner instead of my assistant." They both softly laughed.

"I think she had a crush with you almost instantly." Lily crossed her legs under her. "That night, before returning to the office, we chatted a bit. When I asked her about how you were, her answer was, and I'm quoting here 'super hot'." She said smiling at the same time that her palm dried her cheeks. "She was so happy to be able to stay in New York."

"It was an absolutely mutual feeling." Adrian passed his fingers through his hair, feeling an ache in his heart as his memory returned to the first time he saw her, that she had given him one of her beautiful smiles. "That night, she cut her hand with a glass. All the vampires around were drawn towards the fresh blood, to her."

"I know the feeling." She sadly murmured. "She mentioned that part actually, that you helped her and stood in front of her."

"I will never forget how she hugged me from behind. How when she was scared, she trusted me." His eyes started to burn with fresh tears. "She not only didn't allow the debriefing, but also convinced me to show her around the library." The tears ran free on his face and he didn't try to stop them. "She's brave and stubborn in the most wonderful way."

"I think you are not aware how important you are to her." They stood in silence, lost in their thoughts and memories until Lily talked again. "Amy had always tried to watch over you."

"I know she did." His voice was a low raspy whisper.

"Actually, I suspect you don't know how much." After a pause she sighed, as she had made a decision. "Amy is going to kill me for this…" She muttered. "There's something that she never told you." Adrian noticed the subtle change in her voice. "But I'm convinced you deserve to know." She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. "After the trial where Vega framed you and they declared you guilty, everybody started to discuss how to divide your stuff and..." She stood in silence, her eyes filled with doubts.

"What happened, Lily?" He shifted his gaze to look at her, taking his attention from the coffin for the first time.

"Priya grabbed her from the throat and 'claimed' her for herself." Lily shivered a bit beside him as his blood seemed to boil and freeze at the same time. "She said that she wanted to break her. And after forcing her to watch you die, maybe kill her."

"Was she hurt?" Adrian frowned, clearly disturbed as a new wave of anguish went through his factions. He was conscious of all the times she had been in danger because of him but discovering that there were occasions that she hadn't told him to protect him, it felt like a powerful hand grabbed his heart and squeezed it slowly and extremely painfully.

"Kamilah stopped her almost immediately but she had a bruise around the neck for a couple weeks. She covered it with makeup."

"Amy never told me about that." He lowered his face, both of his hands holding it, seeming overwhelmed as his fingers ran through his hair.

"I know. She didn't want you to know. She was sure you would feel guilty even when it wasn't your fault." Lily stared at his eyes, he never had seen her gaze so intense. "What do you think was the first thing she said, when we left the temple after that?" Adrian stared at her back, unsure if he wanted to know. "She asked Kamilah how we could help you, to save you." Lily sadly smiled at him. "Even back then she didn't wanted to lose you. That's why she did what she did tonight."

He remembered the deep sadness and concern he saw in her when their eyes locked to each other as he was dragged away. The softness of her hand and words when she had found him in The Baron's dungeon. The happiness he felt when he saw her in front of him. "I didn't want to lose her either." He forced himself to say the words that couldn't stop repeating internally. "I don't want to lose her. I can't. I need her, she just can't di--" The lump in his throat cutted his voice, incapable of ending the last word.

"I don't know if she had heard you but… If it's worth something, I know she loves you too, Adrian." Lily murmured, her voice gruff. "You are the most important person to her." Her hands dried her cheeks. "Well, the second more important at least. Best friends and roommates rights, you know."

"I'll take it." Adrian smiled before his face fell again. "And it's worth more than you can imagine." His eyes fixed again on the sarcophagus. "I just hope to have the chance to tell it to her like she deserves. And maybe hear her say it back."

Lily took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes, standing up. "Are you sure you want to stay here?"

"Yes." She nodded and headed to the stairs. "Lily." He called her and she stopped to watch him. "Thank you. For the blood and everything afterwards."

"You are welcome, Adrian." She leaned against the wall for a minute. "I just know how sad she would be seeing you like this." She stared at the sarcophagus one last time, thinking the same thing that has been in Adrian's mind the last two hours and couldn't dare to face it: how silent the coffin was, without even a faint heartbeat or shallow breathing coming from it. Almost like it was empty.

✨

#adrian raines #adrian raines x mc #adrian x amy #choices bloodbound #bloodbound mc #choices game #pixelberry studios #choices stories we play #playchoices #choices stories you play #pixelberry

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rogue-durin-16 · 3 years

Text

AN UNUSUAL YEAR (Part V/V)

Summary: After having little to no interest on girls for five years, Fred suddenly feels the need to nag the shit out of a certain witch, completely oblivious to the reason behind it.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin!Reader

Genre: fluff (+ enemies to lovers)

Tags:

An unusual year: @natural-hearts @manuosorioh @lumos-solemn @westyywifee @whiskeyn-rain @warlock--protection @gossip-girl-ecr @fandomscombine @birdy944 @28cnn

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: a little angst, a little snogging 👀

A/N: maybe a bit longer than I expected but it's alright. Also I might write an addition to this story, not sure tho. I hope y'all enjoyed reading this story as much as I did writing it <3

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Y/n! Come sit with us?" George waved at me from the Gryffindor table as I entered the Great Hall, prompting me to sit across him and Angelina, and besides Fred. "Where's Mathilda?" He asked as I got closer, leaving my books on the wooden surface.

"She's feeling unwell." As I sat down, I noticed George's arm around Angelina and I couldn't help the knowing grin that tugged the corner of my lips. "The date exchange at the Ball turned out well, huh?"

"I could say the same about you." He wiggled his brows at me with the same grin I had.

I felt a sudden rush of panic going through my body. My eyes traveled to the boy by my side, who was oddly quiet, and I found him already peeking at me.

"Meaning?" I decided to play dumb, taking a bite of my golden slice of toast whilst ignoring the intending gazes of the couple in front of me.

"You two were having a great time last night." Angelina jumped in, leaning over her table. "Didn't see you coming back, Fred." She added, redirecting her eyes to the ginger.

"I did." His brother laughed. "I daresay you two had an intense night." I felt my cheeks reddening, not finding enough strength to meet George's look. "It was about time, really."

I was startled by Fred abruptly standing up. "See you in class." The curt reply he offered before fleeing shocked all of us; specially his brother, who, with a polite apology, left me and Angelina to go after his twin.

"I feel like I shouldn't ask." She spoke quietly.

"I don't have an answer."

I feared she would see through me. I hadn't lied, but my gut told me whatever happened had to do with the change of demeanor he had at the end of our night out.

I wouldn't say it out loud but a part of me began to worry.

The worry stayed throughout that entire week, guilt joining it at some point. Fred's attendance in Charms, Astronomy and Potions had decreased; I had only see him attend once to Astronomy. The only thing he did was play with his quill and, whenever he thought I didn't notice, stare at me.

Ironically enough, we started spending most of the time together; after the winter break, George had incorporated both Mathilda and me to their friend group, which, in different circumstances, would have been great.

Alicia Spinnet gained special interest on my best friend; Lee Jordan would joke about Slytherins and Gryffindors getting together, and Angelina— well, she seemed happier now that she could hang out with all her friends at the same time.

Fred was miserable. Everyone could see it, yet they did their best to cover it up.

George would overcompensate his brother's attitude by being louder and paying extra attention to me, but it worsened the situation.

I wanted to ask Fred what was wrong, but then again we weren't even good friends, so was it really my place to ask?

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

George had proposed a trip to Hogsmade a couple of days ago and we all agreed on going, but the day came and Fred wasn't there.

His brother alleged he had a terrible headache and had chosen to stay in bed. We all saw through his excuse, and once more no one said a word.

It was that night that George came to look for me.

"—well then, go get her!" His shouts got into the common room when a second year entered..

"What's this about?" I inquired, coming out to the hallway to see the ginger about to throw hands at my prefect.

"I need you." He stated, quickly losing interest on whatever the prefect had to say. I only nodded and motioned him to move with me far from the Slytherin door. "You have to speak to Fred now." He almost pleaded, a frown of worry forming on his face.

"Sure— wait, now?" I stared at him in confusion.

"Sorry, I know it's late" his apology didn't mean he would ask me to do it in the morning instead.

I let out a sigh before inquiring, "Where's he?"

"The Astronomy tower, I believe." He replied.

"Alright," I said more to myself. "I'll go grab my jacket." He murmured another apology and a thank you before heading off to his House.

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

I came to a halt at the top of the stairs when I saw him sat against the wall, his knees pulled to his chest with his arms around them, and his face buried between them."Hey there, stranger."

He raised his head, letting his eyes and nose be seen."Who gave me away?"

"George."

"Tosser" he muttered, taking his gaze to the levitating bundle of newspaper on fire that was probably keeping him somewhat warm up there.

"Is it that bad to see me now?" I took a couple of careful steps towards the boy.

"It's always that bad to see you."

"Odd for you to say that," I let myself slide down the wall to sit by his side with my legs stretched out. "given how much you stare."

"Touché." He replied, the ghost of a smile breaking through his depressed demeanor. "What are you doing here?"

"What's wrong?"

"I asked first."

"I asked second." He raised his brows at me and it was my turn to avert my eyes from him. "I'm... Worried. About you."

When I shivered due to the wind flowing through the tower, he scooted closer and moved the little fire with his wand for it to be in the middle.

"You're all dejected and sulky," I explained. "You barely attend to our classes together, and if you do, you don't pay attention." I felt him shift uncomfortable by my side. "I'm... I'm gonna regret this— I miss you being a bloody nuisance."

"I knew you loved it." His teasing, though it was meant to be funny, sounded almost painful.

"now, what's wrong?" He shrugged, his chin resting over his forearms. "Listen, if you're not gonna tell me, it's fine, but at least tell George."

"Are you thick?" The bitterness in his tone took me aback. "Y/n, I fancy you." He hid his face between his arms. "quite a lot, actually." He added in a mumble.

"I figured that at the ball, you know?" This time it was me who scooted closer. "Tell me that's not the reason behind this."

"Would you like me to lie?" He questioned, shame slipping out with his voice. "I'm a very good liar you wouldn't even question it." He took a deep breath before looking back up, stretching one of his legs and leaning against the wall. "At the ball, I tried to start something." He began, fidgeting with his hands. "I... This never happened to me, so I wasn't- I didn't know what I was doing, but I thought I was making it clear." He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. "But when I left you—"

"You know I fancy you too, right?" I tilted my head, searching for his eyes. "As in, more than a one time thing."

"That I didn't know." I felt a pang of guilt, realizing that unconsciously I had played a big part on this.

FRED'S P. O. V.

We stayed in silence.

It wasn't an unsettling silence, but the air weighed over us due to the tension floating on it; I needed to defuse it, otherwise it would crush me.

My heart hammered against my chest while I extended my arm to hold her hand on mine.

It's not meant to be nerve-wracking, I thought to myself as I pulled her hand away from her lap; we had already made clear we fancied each other.

The moment she put her head on my shoulder, the tension completely dissipated. I didn't notice the sigh that left my lungs when it happened.

"Didn't put you, Fred Weasley, in the I'm-a-bundle-of-nerves-with-girls category."

"Oh, shut it." I threw my head back, laughing for the first time in a couple of weeks.

"Never." She gave my hand a squeeze and I allowed my cheek to rest over her crown. "You could, of course, find a way to shut me up."

It wasn't her words that cracked me up, but the suggestive tone she used, which took me back to that night in the Duelling Room when I accidentally let slip my feelings for her for the first time.

I raised my head from hers. "Beg your pardon?" I played the fool, trying to hide the ghost of a smile when she shoot me a wide-eyed look. "What are you insinuating, woman?"

"Do you really wanna start the teasing now?" She gave me a warning glare.

"You've just said you missed it." I couldn't hold back the chuckle.

"I knew I was gonna regret it." She groaned, throwing her head back. My eyes, finally on her, traveled to her now exposed neck and collarbone. Though they weren't visible, I could see the trail of kisses I had left there just a few weeks ago. "Stop staring and kiss me."

It didn't take anything else for me to throw the levitating burning paper away and tug her closer by her hand.

The moment our mouths met, I slipped my hand away from Y/n's so I could led her thighs to straddle my legs.

A quiet moan escaped my lips when she rolled her hips against mines; my hands automatically traveled up from her thighs to her waist, pulling her flush against me.

The temperature in the high, cold tower had shot up all from sudden. Just as we were about to start discarding clothes, quick steps were heard climbing up the stairs.

"Fuck!" She whisper-shouted, practically pushing me away as she got up. "Move, move, move!" As she helped me up and we ran to hide, it dawned on me that we were way past curfew. That got me moving.

We waited for Filch to get to the top of the tower before running down as fast as we could.

"No time for goodbyes!" she warned as we rushed through the vast hallways with Filch after us. "See you tomorrow—"

Before she could sprint downstairs to the dungeons, I grabbed her hand and pulled her into a side hall.

"You won't make it to the dungeons." I stated between pants, glancing at the path we had taken. I wasn't able to see the caretaker yet, but his pants could be heard. "Take the other stairs I'll distract him."

"You'll get grounded." She observed, her breathing as heavy as mine, if not more.

"Worth it." I curtly reply, feeling the corners of my lips twisting up.

"You know?" She pushed herself off the wall she had leaned against to catch her breath. "Sometimes you're really sweet."

"Quick!" I tugged on her hand, seeing Filch finally turn the corner. "Gimme a good luck kiss!"

She pulled me down and kissed my lips briefly before taking off in the other direction. I had to tell myself to shake off that stupid smile and run.

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

READER'S P. O. V.

The next morning I eagerly made my way to the Great Hall with two goals; having breakfast, of course, and checking if Fred had made it to his House without getting caught.

I soon spotted the group, this time sitting on the Slytherin table.

Soon his eyes found me too, and without saying a word to anyone, he got up and jogged to meet me halfway.

"Did you make it?" I asked, standing way too close to him and therefore attracting some nosey looks.

"By a whisker." He responded, taking a look around before looking back at me. "I was wondering if you'd like to go for a drink after class." I raised my eyebrows at him with a smirk. "We can use a passage to get to Hogsmade."

"Are you asking me on a proper date, Weasley?" I teased with my hands on my hips. "How cute."

He avoided eye contact, deciding to take another look around instead. "I swear if you tease me right now—"

"I'm free after four." I cut him off. "Now if you excuse me, I'm hungry." I passed him by, playfully bumping his shoulder, and made my way to our friends.

I didn't get far before his hands spun me around and cupped my cheeks, giving me a surprisingly deep kiss. "Are you gonna kill me?" He murmured, his lips still ghosting over mines.

"Oh, you know me so well." I replied, feeling my face heating up. We couldn't help but laugh when whistles and hollers came from behind me. "I might kill them too." I added, making fall into a fit of laughter as we pulled away in order to walk to where our friends sat. "I wanna have breakfast in peace." I warned them, sitting down with Fred by my side.

Everyone was giving looks at each other and trying to hold back the giggles, so I knew a comment was coming, but not from whom.

I could instantly tell I wasn't the only one shocked by the speaker. "But you just had him for breakfast." My best friend responded, faking confusion.

"I was just thinking about that!" Lee yelled, a bit too excited.

"Mathilda Foxglove—" I began, everyone cracking up.

"You are doomed." Fred finished, shoving a toast into his mouth to stop his laughter.

"It was worth it." She stated between giggles.

Fred gave me a side look with a half smile and I thanked Merlin no one could see the boy's fingers interlaced with mines under the table.

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kyotarou · 3 years

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text me now - part 8

previous | masterlist

title: end of the line; the start of something new

warnings: fluff, angst, cheesiness, mild swearing, making out

word count: 1.1k+

special notes at the end (be warned it’s pretty long)

It felt like the whole world was on your shoulders, pushing you deeper underwater. You couldn't breathe despite the crisp air, your lungs aching with every breath. What would be comforting silence was unbearable, especially when Tendou's eyes refused to meet yours, a hint of a scowl hiding beneath his forced neutral expression. It was a bad idea to invite him out, but he did agree to this. You sat on the soft grass of a park near school, watching the shiny blue ripples of the pond rock back and forth. Spring was supposed to be a time of clarity, but your mind was more muddled than ever. The sweet scent of fresh blossoms made your head spin and your stomach churn. More than anything, your heart felt heavier with each passing second. You were unaware Tendou shared the same weight as well.

With you beside him, he was at a loss for words. He was stuck in a cave of his unspoken thoughts, unable to see the light. He wasn't sure where to start or if he had the courage to speak. He pondered on Semi's words, cursing him for clouding him in that air of mystery. He glanced at you, chest growing tighter upon seeing your pained face. Could he fix things?

Tendou took a deep breath.

He turned to you and all his thoughts slipped away. The words weighing on his tongue disappeared, leaving him with a blank slate and a frozen mind. You looked perfect like this, the slight flutter of your lashes as the wind kissed your cheeks, your fingers entwined in your lap—how he wished it was his lips on your skin and his hands tangled in yours. His cheeks grew hot in adoration and shame. He couldn’t believe he nearly let you go.

"(Y/N)..." Tendou immediately bit his tongue. He hadn’t mean to say that.

You turned toward him with a pained smile. "Yes, Satori?"

He could've melted right then and there. His name sounded so sweet on your tongue, so soft and fragile. You treated it with delicacy, a treasure to cherish. He wondered if you'd ever say it like that again.

He looked away. "I... I'm sorry."

"For avoiding me."

It wasn't a question, but rather a statement you both knew the answer to. Tendou was sorry for that, and he was sorry for himself for being blinded by his jealousy and rage. He hurt you and you still stuck with him. He was still hurting you now, refusing to give you any hint of the storm brewing within, all his feelings encapsulated in his fragile body, forcing their way out.

"How do you put up with me?" Tendou crushed a handful of grass. “I’m a piece of shit.”

Your eyes widened, brows furrowed in shock. "You’re kidding, right?"

Tendou let out a harsh scoff and shook his head. Of course he wasn’t. He’d rather you push him away, scream at him to leave, than have you toy with his heart. He wasn’t cut out for love, but he was than willing to try for you—no, with you. The question was, did you want that?

Of course you did, but he was oblivious.

Tendou gulped. "I've been terrible to you, (Y/N)."

"You're far from that."

"(Y/N)-"

"Satori." He jumped when your hand landed on top of his, gentle but firm. Despite your warm smile, he saw how frustrated you were. "Stop saying all those things about yourself. You’re a hell of a lot better than I am.”

His lips parted in shock, throat becoming tight while your grip loosened. You looked up to him—it made his chest swell with pride, but he also felt worse. You left him open to your next attack. You stretched him thin, made him soft, cradled his heart in your hands. You had the power to change him, to either create or destroy something great. Tendou had no means to defend himself. What could he do now besides listen?

You made him vulnerable. You made him happy. You made him feel loved.

The storm inside him was beginning to creep through, the first sign being his thumb wiping the stray eyelash on your cheek. You saw everything—the regret and agony swirling behind his eyes, the slight quiver of his lip. For the first time, Tendou would no longer try to block anything or anyone; he'd bare all his feelings for you.

You let out a shaky breath. Your body had gravitated towards his, shoulders pressed against each other. He sensed the hesitation and fear behind your next words. "You're my first love, Satori. I want you to be my only love."

Tendou lost himself in your gaze, drowning in the endless adoration. Your noses were almost touching now, and he could feel your breath on his cheek. His line of sight flitted to your parted lips. He found himself leaning towards you until his skin was on yours. You kissed him, a wordless conversation shared between two pairs of entwined lips. Tendou didn't need them; his body did all the talking. Your hands snaked into his hair, his gently gripping your wrists. Your kisses were intoxicating, slow and passionate, and leaving him to ache for more. It was ten times sweeter than the accidental kiss now that he knew where your heart lay.

The storm had finally escaped, but rather than a violent downpour, it was a ray of warm clarity and sunny skies. Your bodies felt lighter ten times than before, the tension on your shoulders lifted. You fit so well in his arms as did he, like the final piece in a complex puzzle. His movements continued to grow bolder until you lightly pushed him away with a grin, forehead resting against his.

A heavy fog clouded his mind, but one thing was clear; he could do this for the rest of his life. He was speechless but satisfied, a grin tugging at his tingling lips. Tendou already craved the feeling of yours on his, and he longed for when he could do it again, though he knew it would be soon. The four words that followed after solidified the warmth that spread within, a sense of content and harmony in his previously nerve-wracking day.

“I love you, Satori.”

His arms wrapped around your waist to pull you against his chest. He didn’t mind if you could feel his thumping heart. If anything, he wanted you to—only you could make him feel this way. Tendou was glad his guesses had been wrong for once. Your heart belonged to him, and his to you.

He kept his nose pressed against your cheek, smiling. The tips of your ears grew hot when he placed a featherlight kiss on your jaw, all ounces of shame and uncertainty washed away.

"I love you, too, (Y/N)."

“So-” You murmured against his temple, fingers slotted between his. “Turn this into a real date?”

He grinned. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

a/n: okay...where do i begin? i started this smau back in january after i reblogged a fic title game and an anon sent in “text me now with a member of shiratorizwa.” i chose tendou and thought it was a cute idea. i even said that it’d be a great smau but had no intention of doing anything with the idea, until @theuntamedmulti reblogged and said she wanted this potential smau to exist—and out came this series.

tbh i was really excited but also hesitant. the last series i tried to make when i first started my blog ended up being deleted and discontinued. i’m really bad at completing series in general, so to have this one be a success is a huge accomplishment for me.

i remember finishing all of the smau parts within a span of 2-3 days (which is why some of the timestamps are set in january lol).

as cliche as this sounds, this series has a very special place in my heart. i am very thankful that so many of you enjoy this smau, even if it’s quite short compared to several others. thank you so much for your support. thank you to the anon who sent in that ask, this couldn’t have started without you. thank you to vivian, aka @theuntamedmulti for giving me that little push to start this.

i love you all <3

taglist (closed): @zozodreamy @theuntamedmulti @tsukkim0on @elianetsantana @dekustowel @aideen00 @justfandomlover @rogueofbullshit @giogama08 @squiddlie @captaincyberqueen @kutozume @nachotrash @ems1des @ish-scribbles @salty-satan @darkmbti @rintarosslut @zbops @dumbb1tc4 @candyyrushh @ro-ro-noa @aghasetzen @fi-chanwrites @tobiosaphrodite @panflowerlii @shinah-satoru @lucacangettathisass @maneazuasahi @bokutosbabyowll @fantasycantasy

series completed.

#text me now!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #tendou satori #tendou satori x reader #tendou satori smau #tendou satori x you #tendou satori x y/n #haikyuu smau #haikyuu x you #satori tendou #satori tendou x reader #satori tendou smau #tendou satori fanfic #tendou x reader

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r1ntaros · 3 years

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Sweet Escape //Choi San [2]

[1] [2]

Pairing: mafia boss!san x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, mafia au

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: usage of drugs, mentions of alcohol consumption, cursing, mentions of weapons

Summary: Going back home feels dreadful as he knows that his freedom will no longer be his by the time he sets foot in the place he grew up once again. San is desperate, for the first time in years, to have someone save him even if it’s in a form of an angel-looking beauty that hides the darkness from within.

Author's Note: Part 2 is finally here and I'm sad to say that this is where it ends.. Also, some names are made up by me hehe! Enjoy!

Masterlist

San has never felt so free and it’s all thanks to y/n.

It wasn’t long when he realized that he did, in fact, grew to love y/n as a friend then escalated into something more quickly. He knew by the time he realized that he had to get rid of it quickly before he ended up actually hurting himself. But here he is, sitting in front of her at dinner, watching her talk about herself in admiration.

He couldn’t help but smile as he notices her small mannerism like how she uses her hands to make her stories more exaggerated, how she snaps her fingers when she remembers something important.. or snap in front of San’s face to get his focus once again to which she perfectly did so.

“Sannie, are you okay? You’ve tuned out in the middle of my story telling.” She huffs with a pout and crosses her arms in her chest. He couldn't help but laugh, muttering an apology as he cut a part of his steak and put it in her mouth to emphasize his apology.

She obviously lit up, eating the slice and said after chewing with a clap, “Thanks, bestie. That’s really good!”

“I know, it tastes extravagant.”

“It really does, probably different from what I used to have back home.” She said, spinning some pasta on her fork only to give it to San as an exchange.

“Okay, that pasta tastes really good as well.”

“I know right? Carbonara really is the best!”

Y/n started to inhale her food more and so did San. They were eating quietly, the silence engulfing them is very comfortable as if they’ve known each other for a long time to be like this in each other’s company. However, the silence didn’t last as y/n spoke, “Sannie, I hope this is not crossing the line but may I ask why you decided to take this trip alone?”

San could only offer her a small smile and he wiped his mouth, ready to speak when y/n added, “It’s okay you don’t have to ans—”

“I’m getting married after this trip.”

He doesn’t know if his eyes are playing tricks but he saw how her eyes became downcast, “Oh..” was all she muttered before eating her food once again.

San, however, took this as a sign to continue, “My father is a really powerful man, pulling some string in favor of other people’s success. There’s this lady that he did a huge favor to which she’ll pay the price with her daughter’s life.”

It seemed to gain y/n’s interest, her eyes telling him to continue, “He decided to set me up in an arranged marriage. Trust me when I say I don’t like it at all.”

“And yet you agreed to it?”

“I have no choice, I’ll accept his conditions or else I’ll..” San contemplated for a while whether to tell if he’ll get himself possibly killed once he declined his father’s decisions. But he thinks y/n is so much of an angel to know how dark the world can be.

“You’ll get what, Sannie?” She urges, looking at him with wide eyes making him sigh, “I’ll gain no inheritance from him.”

“That’s so fucked up.”

San couldn’t help but laugh wholeheartedly at the grimace painted in her face as he agrees with her words. Little did she know that his whole world is entirely fucked up and what he told her is just a .001% of everything.

“How about you, little y/n? Why did you decide to go on a trip alone?”

She scowled at his remarks only to receive a laugh from San, “Fuck you, I’m not little. You’re just tall. And to answer your question, let’s just say my mom and my sister don't specifically want me to be around during their planning for the big thing.”

“Care to elaborate what does that mean?”

“My sister is getting married to this..” She gestures her hands vaguely as if trying to find the right word, “Big shot type of a man’s son and they’re meeting him for the preparations in the wedding.”

“Huh? What does it have to do with them sending you away?”

“They said and I quote ‘We don’t want you to meet your sister’s father-in-law because we don’t know what you can do.’ Like what the fuck is that supposed to mean? Are they expecting me to seduce a fucking 50-year old man?”

San couldn’t help but let out an amused chuckle, “Or maybe you’re too pretty to be around that it’ll make your sister’s father-in-law change his mind to get you to marry his son instead?” He tried to offer lightheartedly and it seemed to work as y/n beamed at him happily.

“So they’re threatened?” She asked, giggling in amusement.

“Yes, maybe they are.”

“Well they should be,” She said and stood up from her seat, San following her actions, “Come on, let’s go up the deck for the last time since this trip is coming to an end.”

San wished she didn’t have to remind him.

The both of them were sitting on deck, the same place where they first talked almost 3 months ago. They bask in silence, y/n sitting beside San with his blazer draped on her lap. They stare at the darkness around them, carefully listening to the waves crashing on the ship’s walls. It made San think about the time he endlessly has to catch her everytime she accidentally slips on the ship’s stairs after their usual afternoon swim in one of the pools.

How she drunkenly volunteered to sing that one night only for her to make San realize that she possesses the voice of an angel. How San was able to show her his competitive side while playing tekken with her on the lounge room, not caring about the weird stares people gave them for being too noisy and how they cuddled the night after their shenanigans, watching netflix and eating whatever snack is available for them to eat.

San giggled at the memory, startling y/n.

“What’s so funny?” She asked, tilting her head curiously to the side and San had to stop himself from pinching her cheeks because of how cute she is.

“Remember that one night when we were eating dinner and that old couple approached us, asking if we’re on honeymoon?”

She couldn’t help but giggle as well while nodding her head, “I was so flustered I accidentally said yes. But hey, at least we got free dessert!”

A solemn smile made its way to his face, “How I wish it was really true.”

Y/n could possibly get a whiplash with how fast she looked at San, eyes full of shock, “San? What do you mean?”

“I like you, y/n.” He said, taking a deep sigh, “Fuck I know it’s too fast but you made it so easy for me to fall in love with you in a span of those months we have spent together.”

“Sannie, I—”

“Ever since then, I dreamt of nothing but being able to hold you and get you involved with the way I lived. I want to bring you with me to the future and spend every remaining time with you that the present has to offer. I want to be able to kiss you, to be able to hug you freely in front of my family and my friends..”

He looked at her in the eye, “I want to be with you, y/n.”

A tear slipped her eyes as she looked at him, not knowing what to say. She wants to tell him how she wants the same. How she’s been craving for his loving touch and how she wants him to cuddle her without looking too needy.

But y/n fought all those thoughts as she thought that everything was escalating too fast between the two of them.

And aside from that, he’s getting married. Fuck. San is..

“Sannie, you’re getting married. I.. we.. we can’t.. I don’t know how I—”

San was shaking his head, trying to grab her hands in his. He refuses to believe that he’s getting married. Refused the fact that after this, he’ll no longer spend his life by himself. Instead, he’ll be spending it with someone he doesn’t know.

Someone who doesn’t possess the same attractive feature as her. Someone who he thinks he won’t love the way he loves y/n. Someone who is not her..

Someone who is not y/n.

And it pains him terribly in his heart and his mind.

San let out an incredulous laugh after his realization sinked in, “Yeah.. you’re right.” He nods his head as if agreeing to what she said, “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I must be out of my head. I’m gonna take my leave.”

He stood up from where he was seated making y/n alarmed, “Sannie wait hear me out—”

“Good bye, y/n.”

And that night, he left her for the first time in the darkness alone with tears heavily falling down her eyes, sobbing uncontrollably with longingness not knowing that San also left his heart along with her leaving him empty and dull because of the pain. The next morning, y/n feels her body is too heavy for her to get up and leave the ship especially after what happened last night.

She never got to see San again once he left her all alone at the deck and she never got back to her room as well which leads her to her current situation, walking barefooted along the ship’s stay-in rooms and lost in her thoughts but she knows she has to move quick as the ship near docking on the port.. at least that’s what the staff who woke her up told her though.

She was passing by San’s room when the door suddenly opened to reveal San in his god-like glory. They made eye contact for a while only for the male to look away, dragging his suitcase behind him which made y/n to continue her walk to her own room. Only when they created enough distance that y/n remembered his coat still slung on her shoulders.

She frantically made her turn, “San!”

The male visibly froze at the end of the hallway but at least he spared y/n a glance which she considered as a win.

The soft patter of her feet was frantic as she removed the blazer hanging on her shoulders and gave it to the rightful owner, “T-This is yours.. thank you.”

San grabbed the blazer on her hand and he started to walk away once again when y/n spoke, “Safe travels, San.”

He muttered a quick ‘you too’ before turning his way out, not sparing her a glance anymore.

She let out a deep sigh and proceeded to her room to clean herself and change her clothes, thankful that she already packed her things the day before. After she does so, she pulls her luggage along with her, just in time to hear that the ship has successfully docked.

Knowing what was already waiting for her, she immediately went straight through the port’s waiting area where she saw far more men in black suits that acted as bodyguards guarding seven other men who looked like they were waiting for someone to come down. Looks like someone important, she thought but she proceeded to walk until she saw her own bodyguard and personal driver who offered her a warm smile.

“Hey there, little baby. How’s the trip?”Junseo, her bodyguard and somehow someone who acted as her brother, asked as he pats her head. She just offered him a small smile and answered timidly, “It was fun, but shit went down yesterday.”

“Awe, what happened?”

She shook her head softly and it’s enough of a message for him to know that she doesn’t want to talk about it. He nodded in understanding and spoke once again, “The private jet your mom sent is already waiting at the airport. They said you can go grab some lunch first if you want to but they can serve you one in the jet if you don’t want to eat here on land.”

“Let’s just go to the airport, I want to rest.” Was all she said and proceeded to enter the car.

Junseo sighed and nodded his head, muttering a ‘shit really went that bad?’ under his breath and entered the car.

Meanwhile, in a safe distance, San had his eyes on her as if guarding her carefully in the last minutes only to be snapped by Seonghwa back to reality.

“You’re awfully spacing out again. What the fuck is wrong with you?” Seonghwa huffs in annoyance.

“Sorry, what was it?”

“I said, we have to leave. And that the wedding will be held next week.” His best friend rolled his eyes at him and he made eye contact with Hongjoong who was staring at him intently, making him raise his eyebrows which the latter just promptly answered with a shake of his head.

They left the place quickly in order and as the distance to the airport continues to decrease, he knows that along with it is his heart continuously breaking into two.

Successfully arriving in Korea, y/n braced herself into another 3 hours travel time which made her catch up with everything she had missed.

Junseo had said that the wedding has been perfectly planned already and that it’ll be grand. A lot of money has been placed on it as well and that she’ll be the maid of honor. But aside from those, there’s one thing she’s curious about.

“Who is she going to marry anyways?” She cut off Junseo in the middle of his rambling and he looked a bit startled by it but he quickly answered, “I think it’s like Choi.. something?”

“Choi..?”

“Yeah, you know that one huge mafia group right? The one who was led by the Choi’s. He has a son who will be next in line and I heard that he won’t lead the mafia unless he agrees to his father’s terms.”

“And that is to marry my sister?” Y/n supplies with a raise of her brow.

Junseo nodded as a confirmation, “Yeah that one or else he’ll get killed.” He then tapped her driver’s arm, “Jaeseok, what’s the name of the man again?”

“Choi Shan? Choi Sang? I don’t..” She pales at the close proximity of the name to her San. But on the other hand, she never got to know what San’s real name is.

“Choi San?” Y/n asked with uncertainty.

Jaeseok nodded his head enthusiastically as if she answered a million dollar question. Her eyes widened as she slaps Junseo’s arm, earning a shout of surprise from the other.

“Do you have a picture of him, Junseo?”

Junseo pulled out his phone and did a few taps on the screen to show him a photo of San, making her heart sink. “Fuck..” She mutters weakly and gives the phone back to Junseo.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” The bodyguard asked with concern.

She lets out a deep sigh and tells them what happened during the trip, Junseo and Jaeseok listening intently to her story. When she reached the end of it, the two boys let out a deep sigh. They were quiet for a while with y/n dreading deep on her feelings, regretting why she didn’t tell him that she liked.. in fact love him that night.

The silence was broken by Jaeseok and the tone of his voice hinted something, “My girlfriend is your sister’s stylist for the wedding though.”

“What the fuck was that supposed to mean, dude?”

“Well we can pull some strings and get y/n to marry Choi San instead.” Jaeseok said with a shrug and he adds, “Don’t look at me like that and stop pretending like we haven’t actually plotted anything evil before. Remember when we decided to knock out the guy who forced y/n to date him by putting some sleeping drugs on his wine?”

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh as she fits herself in between the gap of the seats, “So what’s your plan, Mr. Clever Pants?”

“Just put your sister on sleeping drugs too, just enough for her to not wake up during the whole ceremony.”

Junseo seemed confused, “How are we going to..?”

“Also, don’t you think it’s time for y/n to have an exposure? Y/n is older by a year yet she’s the one who was hidden by Ms. Han, even giving her her actual father’s last name. So it only makes sense that Choi San is supposed to be married to y/n because she was pregnant with her by the time she made the deals with the devil.” Jaeseok logically explained and y/n flinched at that fact.

Everything makes sense now.

“And besides, he didn’t specify which daughter too so both y/n and Ayeon are qualified. But y/n should be on the winning case since Ms. Han was carrying her as a baby that time.”

The car went silent for a while and Junseo made a turn to look at y/n only to see a devilish smirk plastered on her face as she was already looking at him. Junseo knows her all to well. She agrees with the plan. The bodyguard only sighed and pulled out his phone to call someone, “Hello, Yunho? Yes, it’s me Junseo, your cousin. Can you do me a quick favor?”

It’s been six days since San went home and since he last saw y/n as well. The wedding is tomorrow. In a span of those days, his friends never failed to miss that their friends had a little bit of change in his composure. He seemed more broken and vulnerable and they decided to leave it for a while until Hongjoong could no longer take it and took the matters in his own hands.

So long story short, the boys already knew about y/n, and are trying to use their connections to look for her whereabouts just so the two can reconnect with each other.

No one was successful except Yunho, of course, especially after his cousin called while he was on his way home to Gwangju and sadly parted ways with San already.

Yunho, out of all seven, has met y/n immediately four days after his cousin’s phone call. She works fast, even faster than Yunho himself. He found out about everything, even y/n’s side of the story and provided them with what they needed and also helped them plan for the big thing as well.

He was supposed to meet them once again for finalization but San had begged them to come over to spend the last days of his, Yunho quotes as he said, “bachelorship” to which he thinks is too dramatic for his friend and then proceeds to remember that he knows nothing about the plan.

They were currently playing a dangerous game of darts that instead of throwing darts itself, they throw pocket knives on the dart board. They just went on with a round of it before deciding that they should just let themselves get drunk.

Yunho poured himself a drink in a glass and slumped beside San then they clink their glasses together before continuing to down the shot. It seethes on their throats, feeling the burn of it. After recovering with the shot, he placed his hands on San’s thighs, “What’s your plan dude?”

San looked at him, confused, “What do you mean by what’s my plan? I’m getting married tomorrow, dude.”

“Well do you not have plans to meet or look for y/n at least?”

The black-haired male sighed and ran a hand on his hair, “There’s no use, Yunho. She doesn’t want me the way I want her. Heck, she even pointed out that I’m getting married when I told her what I felt that night.”

Yunho pats his thigh as he had let out a deep sigh himself, “Maybe it’s just a misunderstanding?” Yunho knows it is.

“Even if it is, there’s no use in looking for her. I’m getting married tomorrow.”

“Damn it, Sannie. It’s hard to be you.” Yunho said chuckling a little bit and poured their empty glasses some more whiskey. “Since you said it yourself, you’re getting married tomorrow so there’s no harm in enjoying your last night as a single man until we reached our limits, right?”

San roamed his eyes to look at his other friends with their glasses of whiskey raised up and San couldn’t help but smile as he raised his own glass as well.

Wooyoung cheered, “Let’s get drunk tonight, yeah!”

They all laughed at their best friend’s antics and San couldn’t help but shake his head in amusement. He’s thankful for them.

The day has arrived.

Everyone was busy doing their last minute preparations. They decided to just hold the wedding in a private place but it’s still grandiose despite being so secluded, away from the public’s eyes.

On the other hand, the bride was too busy preparing herself for her big day. She was excited to experience this whole new world, expecting San to be an easy husband and fall for her immediately. Ayeon was in the middle of her pampering when a knock was heard on her door.

“Come in!” She answered enthusiastically.

The door opened only to reveal her sister, making her mood drop as the smile on her lips became a frown, “What the fuck do you want, bitch?”

Y/n just chuckled and went inside the room, “Just want to check up on you.”

“And why is that so?”

“Why,” Y/n said as she took a seat on one of the seats near the vanity, “Can I not see my baby sister before she gets sent off? Look after her as she steals everything away from me for the last time?”

Ayeon raised a brow and looked at y/n, “Are you out of your mind? What are you saying? Me? Stealing everything away from you?”

Y/n nodded enthusiastically and she stood up, going behind Ayeon and proceeded to comb her hair. She noticed her little sister stiffened a bit and she had to suppress a smirk, “I’m not out if my mind, Ayeonie.” She giggled and placed the brush on the side and leaned down her sister’s ear level, “In fact, don’t you think it’s my time to finally shine?”

A chilly feeling went through Ayeon’s spine as she looked at her sister through the mirror, the devilish smirk on her face was enough for her to shake in fear but it was soon replaced by a gentle smile.

What a two-faced bitch, she thought.

Y/n pats her little sister’s head, “Eat your breakfast well, Ayeonie. I’ll be taking my leave to prepare as well. I hope you enjoy the rest of the days.” She said as she opened the door, just in time to let the personal assistant to enter the room and serve her sister’s breakfast.

She couldn’t help but smirk as she made her way through where the wedding gown is settled, excited to wear it herself.

—

Y/n was, so far, enjoying the passing hours of the day before the wedding starts. She’s currently in the room assigned as her place to stay with Junseo and his cousin Yunho. They were talking about random things, specifically everything relatable and the similarities of their childhood.

They were sipping their red wines as they basked in the sun passing through the curtains, laughing out wholeheartedly.

Yunho then spoke after taking a sip on his wine glass, “When we were kids, San used to have a thing for collecting flowers.”

“Collecting flowers? Why?” Y/n asked, curiosity and amusement laced in her voice.

Yunho lets out a deep chuckle as he shook his head, “San never met his mother since she died after giving birth to him. It’s Seonghwa hyung’s mom who raised him and they always visit his mother’s grave. San noticed how Seonghwa hyung’s mom always leaves flowers on his mother’s grave and little Sannie just thought that ‘hey, maybe that flower is my mom!’ He thought of it like an offering to make his mother magically appear out of nowhere.”

Y/n couldn’t help the sad smile that appeared on her face, “That’s so wholesome.. yet sad..”

Yunho nodded in agreement as he continued to speak, “After finding out that his mother will no longer appear, no matter what, San never welcomes any women in his life thinking that they’ll also disappear just like how his mother was taken away from him without even letting him meet her.”

“The world is too cruel for him.” Y/n said solemnly as she stared at the red liquid in her glass.

“It really is, so imagine his pain when he thought you don’t feel the same for him.” Yunho said it so casually but it felt like y/n was hit by a ton of bricks.

“He thought I rejected him?”

“My friend is too much of a fool himself. I told him that it may just be an understanding but, eh, he’s stubborn.”

Y/n stared at Yunho for a while before she goes to speak, “Yunho, I—”

Suddenly, the door frantically opened, revealing Jaeseok and his girlfriend who’s panting harshly but the excitement in their eyes is evident.

“Y/n! The drug has taken effect, we locked Ayeon in her room. Come on, let’s get you glammed up!”

—

Preparing y/n did not take up too much time since she finished her makeup beforehand. Jaeseok’s girlfriend just did her hair, retouched the colors on her face and helped her wear the wedding gown.

When they were done, she looked at herself in the mirror, “Wow..”

“Really wow, y/n. It suits you more than it does to Ayeon. When she fitted that I couldn’t help but grimace because it doesn't suit her physique.”

“Well I guess I’m really meant to get married today.” She joked making laughter bounce through the room.

Mirae suddenly clapped and went through the bed where the veil lies and helps her put it on. “The fabric used for that veil is thicker than usual veils so they won’t recognize that it’s you.”

Y/n flashed her a smile, “Mirae, thank you so much for working hard.”

“You’re welcome bubs, it’s for you. Now let’s go, the wedding is about to start!”

—

They arrived at the wedding hall just in time before the wedding started. Y/n wasn’t able to hold a conversation with her own mom to which she was thankful or else she could’ve blown her cover.

The wedding march wasn’t that time consuming since only a few important people were asked to join the entourage. She started to feel nervous, her hands becoming clammy as she counted a slow 1,2,3 when the door opened, revealing the inside of the venue.

At the end, on the altar, was San. Her San, looking so different yet still dashingly handsome with his black hair slicked back, jaw tight and a serious expression in his face. Y/n started to walk, making sure that it’s not too slow or too fast.

The one to receive her hand in the middle of her march was Yunho which made her feel at ease a little bit. Even if they only met a few days ago, she couldn't decline the fact that Yunho has bought an oddly calming presence for her.

By the time they reached the altar, San, without a clue that it’s her, took her hand in Yunho’s hold and planted a kiss on it.

She knew she shouldn’t blow her cover but she couldn’t help but giggle at the gesture and she whispered, “Hi Sannie.”

San snaps his head towards her, eyes wide. He recognizes that voice. In the same volume, he whispered back, “Y/n?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“You’re Ms. Han’s daughter? I.. I thought your sister..”

“Shh, Sannie. The less we talk the faster we will be wedded.”

“Wait aren’t you supposed to remove your veil?” San whispered again making her elbow him at his side, shushing him.

“I can’t risk blowing my cover, I’m doing things illegally.” She answered making her groom pout, clearly unsatisfied. “But I want to see your pretty face.”

“Later, baby, when we kiss.” She answered back and it seemed to make San content as he finally shut up and they focused on the ceremony as it proceeded.

The whole thing was too fast, she did a lot of things like changing her voice and mimicking her sister’s mannerism so it wouldn’t be suspicious. But she knows she has to reveal herself to the public.

“Groom, you may now kiss the bride.”

And there it is.

San faced her with a smile on his face, “Now?” He asked, looking like an excited puppy. He was about to lift the veil when she stopped her.

“Wait, a few warnings, things will get messy.”

San smirked, “I know.”

With that, San lifted her veil, and she was met by an eyes full of love and happiness from the man in front of her. She couldn’t resist it anymore as she pulled him by the neck, kissing him full of love and want, to which San returned back as well.

Just as they pulled away from the kiss, her mother caused a scene, “You’re not Ayeon, where’s Ayeon?”

A collective gasp can be heard but she ignored it and nonchalantly answered, “Sleeping.”

The veins on her mom’s neck started to pop out, “What did you do to—”

Her mother’s exploding tantrums only stopped when San’s father placed a hand on her shoulder and calmly asked y/n, “Darling, who are you?”

She gave her mom a nasty look and said, “Wow, mom, you hid me so well. Too afraid to expose me because you know I’ll steal Ayeon’s spotlight and your lovely youngest daughter will be left with nothing?” She laughed in disbelief and proceeded to answer the question directed at her earlier, “I’m y/n l/n, Han Siwoo’s eldest daughter. She was carrying me when she made that deal with you.”

“Don’t believe her, Mr. Choi, she’s lying!” Her mom said but the panic in her eyes was enough message about the unveiling of the truth.

“If I’m lying is what I’m currently doing, then what do you call your own actions, Ms. Han?” She felt herself slipping into anger but she was held on her ground when she felt her husband squeeze her hand.

“You’ve destroyed my life ever since I was born, don’t you think it’s time for me to repay you in kind? Besides, the truth is more powerful than the lies you put up in people's minds. Even if Ayeon is in my place right now, everyone will still know the truth.” Y/n said and she added, “And besides, Mr. Choi didn’t specify which daughter right? Me and Ayeon are both qualified, it’s just that she’s not as clever as I am.”

She then glanced at San’s father, offering the man a smile, “It’s up to our decision on who you will believe, Mr. Choi. It’s either you kill me or kill her.”

Mr. Choi held his gaze at y/n for a while, the lady answering him back with the same intense stare until he decided to look away and look at y/n’s mother. “Ms. Han, you and your dirty lies.”

“Mr. Choi, I—”

“I thought when you offered your child in exchange, you'd give me your first born.”

“Ayeon is—”

“ I want the truth.” Mr Choi’s voice was dominant, leaving no space for any other argument.

She visibly deflates, “My second born.. Ayeon is my second born.”

The whole venue was quiet for a while and y/n couldn’t help but smirk, “Finally decided to reveal the truth huh. I’ve been waiting for 22 years.”

Whispers can be heard to the venue as disgusted stares were given to her mother. San’s father looked at her once again, “My dearest daughter-in-law, what do you want to do with your mother?”

Y/n contemplates for a while but she knows she has an answer to that.

Knowing that her life was in the hands of her cruel daughter, Ms. Han started to beg, “My baby y/n, you know I—”

She couldn’t stop herself from giggling as she pointed a finger at her mom, “Kill her.”

Her mother’s eyes widen as two men hold her in both arms as she screams, “Wait no, no! Y/n, you heartless bitch! I gave birth to you!”

Ms. Han’s pleas fell deaf in y/n’s ears as she muttered under her breath, “You only gave birth to me but didn’t give me the life I deserve.”

San seemed to hear that as he held her hand tighter, making her look at him only to see the same eyes filled with adoration, “It’s a new chapter for us, I’ll give you the life you deserve.”

She couldn’t help but giggle, planting a kiss on her now husband’s nose, “I didn’t know that meeting you within those three months is one of the signs that I’m going to spend the rest of my life time with you.”

“I love you, y/n.” San muttered softly, as if it’s their biggest secret.

A tear fell down on y/n’s eyes as she beamed at San, “I love you too, Sannie. I didn’t get to say that before.”

“Worry less, we have our lifetime together to say it whenever we want to.”

taglist: @gyubaby

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