#AGAIN that's my problem.. I like.. start one thing.. and then by the time thing A is 50% done I already have thing B which I start

[everyonewooeverywhere]

NSFW | MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

summary: you can't fail this class or you won't graduate on time, and you'll embarrass your parents. you could go to the tutor that your school so graciously provides...or you could just fuck your prefessor

pairing: professor!yunho x female student!reader

genre: smut | non-idol au | university au

rating: 18+

word count: 3.3k

content/warnings: female reader, pet names (sweetheart, baby, sweet thing), sir/professor kink, unprotected sex, squirting, spitting (spit swallowing), infidelity, age gap (mc is in her early twenties, yunho's in his early 40s), dubcon (coercion), spanking, light bondage, breeding kink, copious amounts of dirty talk

notes: this got out of hand really fast... (and i didn't edit it at all)

"professor—" you gasped, fingers digging in to his linen suit.

his office was dark. the only light coming from the green desk lamp situated behind you. it was well past office hours, but you didn’t see yourself leaving this spot anytime soon.

you’d come to his office after receiving a notification that you were failing his class, a class you needed to pass in order to graduate on time. and you’d been studying so hard and working so late to try and get your grade up but nothing was working.

and when you walking into his office he smiled softly at you, "what seems to be the problem miss l/n?"

a few tears fell from your eyes as you explained to him that you can’t fail this class because then you’d have to take another semester, and you were mortified at the idea of disappointing your parents who were expecting you to start working at their company in a few months.

he looked at you with concern deep in his gaze, "oh sweetheart, why didn't you come to me sooner?" he looked up at you from his desk chair and gestured for you to stand in front of him. "i hate to see one of my favorite students struggle." he reached out for your hand and you slid it into his with little hesitation.

"one of your favorites?" you asked, flattered by the idea that he enjoyed you in his class so much.

he smiled, "of course, sweetheart." his thumb brushed over the tops of your knuckles, "i'd be stupid not to cherish such a bright and beautiful young woman in my class."

the tips of your ears flushed at his flattery, "thank you professor jeong."

"i'm always here to help if you need it," and when he stood up out of his chair he loomed over you. his closeness making you take a step back. your thighs consequentially pressing up against the back of his desk. your hand still in his as he brought it up to his mouth. kissing the backs of your fingers to your palm to your wrist. closing his eyes and taking a deep breath amidst every kiss. "you are so beautiful miss l/n."

"y/n. you can call me y/n." you whispered.

he raised an eyebrow at you. "yeah?" he took another step toward you, making have to grab his arms not to fall backward onto his desk. he leaned his face down to your ear, his breathe soft on your neck, "you seemed to like when i called you 'sweetheart' though."

"professor—"

his lips grazed your ear, "call me 'sir.' you can do that for me, right?"

you nodded, eyes welling up with tears at the anticipation, "yes sir."

a low growl rose out of his chest from you compliance, "god you're so perfect." he pulled back and looked you in the eyes again resting his forehead on yours. his hands started tracing the edge of your skirt, letting his fingers graze your upper thigh, "just a good girl who will do anything to impress her professor and get a good grade, right?"

you averted his gaze, suddenly ashamed about what you were doing here.

"oh sweetheart don't be embarrassed. you're just putting in the effort that your other classmates won't. you came to me for extra help, and i'm gonna give it to you, okay?"

"okay..."

you let yourself melt into the touch of his hands. the soft pads of his fingers caressing your inner thigh. he watched your face intently as you took in his little touches. how you clearly waited in anticipation for him to finally brush his fingers over your pretty lace panties.

he pinched the white frills of your underwear between his fingers. “we’re all alone here sweetheart,” he ran a finger under your jaw, “so you can be as loud as you want. i want to know what feels good.”

“yes sir.”

he leaned back from you for just a moment. hooking a finger under his black tie and pulling it loose. you bit your lip as you watched him unbutton the top few buttons of his shirt and roll his sleeves up around his forearms.

when he leaned back in, he pressed his forehead to yours. "fuck i wonder what you taste like," his hand cupped the fabric over your already dripping pussy, and you rolled your hips to grind against it. "i bet you taste like fucking heaven. what if i just..." he pulled your panties aside, running his middle and ring fingers through your folds. he hummed in delight, "oh you feel so perfect, sweetheart." he kissed your cheek, "i can't wait to sink my cock into this perfect pussy."

a pathetic moan rose out of your throat, "please—"

he smiled softly and let his lips brush over yours. the tips of his fingers pressing into your soft cunt. "oh you sweet thing," he finally lifted you up onto his desk, letting your skirt rise up on your thighs, "be patient, and your professor will give you just what you need baby."

he pulled his fingers out of your pussy and brought them up to his lips. looking deep into your eyes as his licked your wetness off of them a string of his saliva sticking to the tips when he pulled them out. "oh i was so right. you taste like heaven sweetheart." he pressed a long kiss to your lips. letting his tongue pass over yours so you could taste yourself on his mouth, "you taste like you were made for me."

he eyed the white button-down you had tucked into your little skirt. his fingers delicately popped open the buttons. unwrapping you like his perfect, pliant little toy. his hands brushed over your shoulders as he slid the shirt off your skins. he pulled it out of your waistband and tossed it behind him.

"you're so fucking beautiful," he cupped your breasts. that were still partially covered by the white sheer lace of your bra. his thumbs lightly circled your nipples that were fully visible through the mesh. you watched as his tongue came out and licked his lips. like he was on the edge of eating a meal he'd been waiting on a long time.

"you dressed up for me today, didn't you?"

you nodded, biting your lip to try and hold yourself together, "do you like it, professor? i picked it out just for you."

"oh you're just the sweetest thing aren't you?" his hand slid around to your back, "it's so beautiful but i think—" he pinched the clasp and let in come undone and fall into your lap, "i like you much better without it."

the cold air of his office caressed your chest, making your nipples harden. you shivered at the sudden feeling.

he placed his hands on your knees, "play with them for me, sweetheart."

the request threw you off guard, your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, "huh?"

"play with your tits for me. i wanna see how you touch yourself," he leaned in close to you, "do this for me, and i reward you, okay sweetheart?'

"yes, sir," and you hesitantly cupped them in your hands. massaging them as he watched your chest intently.

"that's it. roll your nipples for me," his hands slid up your thighs. your back arched into him as you pinched your sensitive nipples between your fingers. you let out a soft moan. "good girl." he hooked his fingers into the waistband of you panties, "lets get these off of you."

and you lifted your hips so he could slide them down your legs. he slid them into his back pocket, and you didn't even try to stop him.

you reached for the button on your skirt, but he grabbed your hand, "keep the skirt on for me, baby. it looks so cute on you."

he flipped it up, though, and revealed your desperate pussy dripping all over his desk.

finally pulling his tie over his head, he let his shirt hang halfway open. "give me your hands, sweetheart."

you looked at him confused, but obeyed nonetheless, giving into his every demand with blind compliance. he slipped your wrists through the loop in his tie and tightened it, wrapping it a couple times into an inescapable knot. "perfect." he breathed. taking in the sight of his favorite student tied up and naked on his desk, just shaking with the anticipation of him actually fucking her. "my pretty plaything..." he muttered to himself.

his hand slipped between your legs, letting his fingers tease at your folds. playfully spreading them and letting the cold air hit your sensitive pussy. you shivered at the contact, "please professor..." looking up at him desperately, "i need you."

"oh, you sweet thing," he playfully pouted at you, "you've been so patient, haven't you?"

you nodded, resisting your urge to grab his wrist and grind into his hand. he positioned his ring and middle fingers at your entrance, "well let me reward you, sweetheart."

and he slipped his two fingers inside you so gently. letting your warmth surround them. slowly pumping them in and out of your prefect pussy. he found it endearing how you struggled to find a spot for your hands. your hands flexed and twitched trying to resist the urge to reach for him. he was going to tell you to hold onto his dress shirt, but he much preferred watching you struggle to hold yourself together.

he finally got a soft moan out of you when he pressed his thumb into your clit. rubbing slow circles on it and watching as your back arched into him. he kept a steady pace with his fingers, not letting himself lose control to his own desire. but he couldn't help but let his pointer finger slip inside.

you sucked in a sharp breath, "ohhh..." one of your legs wrapped around his waist. tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

"how does that feel, baby?" he muttered against your ear. his breath on your neck making you shiver.

"it hurts.." he sunk all three fingers inside and curled them, "sir!" you gasped.

"shhhh..." he ran his other hand over your hair, "just breathe, sweetheart. breathe. i got you." he kissed your temple, "your professor's gonna take such good car of you, okay? i'm not gonna stop until your little pussy is squirting all over my desk." you moaned loudly at the thought, "oh? you like that? you're dirtier than i thought, baby. have you thought about this?" he loved how you trembled under his touch, "do you have dirty thoughts about your professor during class? maybe that's why you're failing. because you can't stop imagining me bending you over my lap in the middle of my lectures."

you tightened around his fingers at the idea. imagining laying over his knee with your skirt flipped up as he spanks you like the little slut you are and fingers you until you can't even thing straight. "well, we'll have to try that sometime, won't we? want me to fuck you in the lecture hall? where all your classmates and instructors can hear just how pretty you moan."

he smiles at the little nod you give him, but he notices how little you're comprehending his words. "you close, sweetheart?" you just hum in acknowledgment. "hmm, what about now?" he curls his fingers and pressed them directly into your g-spot. pumping in and out making sure to hit it every time with his fingertips.

"oh...oh!" you throw your head back, "i'm gonna cum! oh fuck.."

"cum for me pretty girl. make a mess baby. all over my desk."

your tied hands gripped onto his dress shirt, the pleasure from his fingers making you lightheaded. you let out the prettiest moan as your orgasm hit your. pleasure wracking through your body as he continued to fuck you with his hand. hitting your g-spot over and over again. determined to make you squirt all over his desk.

he dragged his fingers over the spot one last time before you felt it. your orgasm washing over you in messy spurts as you came all over his hand. you juices spilling all over his desk. he chuckled as he kept his fingers inside you. letting your pussy pulse around them. his lips graced your hairline, "i knew you could do it, sweetheart. you listen so well. what did i do to deserve such a perfect toy?"

"thank you, sir," you looked up at him, your pride obvious in your eyes. oh that little praise kink of yours made his life so fucking easy.

"of course my sweet thing," he brushed a thumb over your cheek. "you think you can take more? i think you would look so pretty on my cock."

"please, sir..." you leaned into his hand, "i'll be good. i promise."

his hand slid down to your neck, "oh i know you will." you watched as his tongue slid out of his mouth and wet his lips, "you'll do anything for that passing grade, won't you? even let your professor fuck you in his office after hours. that's a little pathetic don't you think?" he smiled as your expression changed into one of shame. "couldn't get anything into this dumb little brain of yours, so you had to come visit me in this slutty little outfit and just beg me to fix your grade? yeah?"

the fingers on your neck squeezed lightly, "i can imagine how mortified your parents would be if they knew how their perfect little angel got her good grades. just whoring herself to a professor twice her age. because she's not smart. she's just a dumb little whore who lets her pussy solve all of her problems."

tears pricked at your eyes, "i tried professor jeong! i did! i just—" you choked on a sob, "i just couldn't get anything. i'm a good student i promise! and i study hard."

he hummed, "like you did in professor park's class?'

your breathing stopped, "wha—"

"oh baby," he kissed the tip of your nose with a touch of his own condesending sweetness, "i know i'm not special. you should know that mr. park and i are really good friends. and when i told him that you were failing my class, he let me in on your little secret."

"professor please," a tear fell down your cheek, mortified that he was telling you this.

"my sweet thing...messing around with older bachelors is one thing," he swiped at your tears with his thumb, "but i can only imagine how mr. park's wife would feel."

you choked on a soft sob, trying desperately to hold it together, "oh god, please don't tell her. i didn—" you shook your head, "it was just a one time thing. and i really needed to pass his class."

"hmmm i'm sure you did, sweetheart." he leaned in and let his tongue wipe up a tear on your cheek, "and don't worry, i won't tell anyone. it'll be our little secret, okay?"

you nodded hesitantly, "thank you professor jeong."

"of course. but i do ask for something in return," he threaded his fingers through your hair, "you're such a sweet, submissive little thing. i don't think i can let you go so easily. i'm gonna need a couple more..." he looked you up and down hungrily, "favors from you."

"favors?"

"mhm..." he tightened his hold on your hair, "favors." he yanked your head back, "i wanna see how far i can go until i break you."

you whimpered.

"i know that you're a filthy whore deep down, baby. you just haven't found the right guy to try and slap you around a little bit." he forced your mouth open with his free hand, "you're gonna take ever little thing i give you." a wad of spit fell from his mouth and onto your tongue. you fought the urge to swallow it, waiting on his command. he smirked at how easily compliant you were. "swallow."

you let his saliva trail down your throat.

finally, you watched as he unbuckled his belt. instead of letting it drop he set it on the desk next to you before unlooping the button on his pant and letting them fall to the floor. he grabbed your tied wrists and pulled you off of his desk. "turn around."

you obeyed without hesitation, turning toward his desk. he pressed his hand to your back and pushed your chest down onto the desk. you heard him shuffle out of his boxers before grabbing the belt next to you.

you heard the leather snap against itself. "we're gonna play a little game, okay?"

"yes, sir," you nodded with your face pressed into the desk.

"good girl," he trailed the belt along your spine and you shivered. "we're gonna play a little game. i'm gonna fuck you on my cock. and i'm not gonna hold back. but you aren't allowed to cum until..." he snapped the belt against your ass. you yelped in pain, your hips jerking forward in surprise, "you count thirty spankings."

"thirty!?" the belt made contact with your ass once again.

"yes, baby. thirty. and if you can't do it, then your gonna have to go home and cum all alone in your bed. because i'm not gonna give you anything you don't deserve."

his cock slid through your folds, and he ran the tip along your clit. delighting in how you shuddered under him. you gasped when he finally sunk into you. filling you up in ways that you weren't sure were even possible. "perfect little pussy," muttered to himself.

he pulled out and thrust into you, hard. his tip smashing into your cervix. but you couldn't even catch a breath because he immediately brought the belt down onto your ass.

"one!" you choked out. followed by a "two! three!' and the leather snapped against your skin again.

"good job, baby. you're doing so perfect."

you whined, "thank you, sir."

"four!" you felt the sting again. this time much harder than the last. and five, six, seven, and eight felt like they were burning into your skin.

he already had you sobbing into the wood. after nine and ten, he let your skin breathe, but he continued to fuck your pussy relentlessly. and you could already feel your orgasm creeping up on you.

the next spank surprised you, "eleven..." you sobbed into the desk. and he kept going, keeping his relentless pace on both fronts. surely bruising your ass and your cervix.

by the time he hit twenty-five you were desperately trying not to cum. your legs were useless, no longer holding you up at all. and your ass was going numb.

"you're so close, sweetheart. count five more for me, and i'll let you cum so hard, okay." he kissed the nape of your neck.

before bringing the belt down again two more consecutive times, and you counted between sobs. and you were already tightening around him, on the verge of your release.

and maybe he was feeling gracious, because the last three strikes were much softer and his thrusts started becoming much more erratic. "fuck! i'm close baby." he grunted in your ear.

he pressed his chest into your back, the buttons of the dress shirt he still wore digging into your back, "oh god i'm gonna fill you up so good. gonna breed this dumb little pussy so you know it's all mine."

"all yours," you cried, "it's all yours." your whole body shook under him, "oh i'm coming! shitttt sir i'm coming."

"yeah, baby," he growled, "cum with me. cum around my cock while i breed you so good. ahh shit! yeah there we go baby. there we go..."

his cum filled you up as you came together. seeping out of your pretty little hole when he pulled out to admire his handy work, your pulsing cunt pushing his cum out in little spurts.

he kissed your shoulder and leaned into your ear, feeling you breathing heavy under him, "we are gonna have so much fun together, sweetheart, just you wait."

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[elodieunderglass]

It’s a good question but not set up to be the case in the canon material! Obviously we are having fun, but it’s backed (at least in my own contributions) by the genuinely interesting public health problems and ecological implications of hobbits.

A few reasons, behind the cut because I’m conscious of having contributed TOO MANY WORDS across various iterations of this post already:

1. Tolkien provided a lot of extensive hobbit family trees, often with birth and death dates. These indicate large families produced by - this is important! - the same mother. Conclusions: mothers weren’t frequently dying in childbirth, and early deaths aren’t often recorded on the family trees. (Possible explanations you could invent for this could include things like “children only being recorded on family trees if they reach a certain age/milestone.” But then you’d be doing the same thing as making them all poly - adding your own imagination!)

One of the longest family lines is the lineage of the Old Took, who sired twelve children and was a shared ancestor of Bilbo, Frodo, Merry and Pippin. In addition to having “three remarkable daughters” including the adventurous Belladonna Took, some of his kids met such unusual fates that they were included parenthetically next to their birth/death dates. One of this generation Took siblings actually went to sea once (but came back and lived to be like 100), one never returned from an adventure, one had no children at all (!!!) and one, Hildigard, “died young.” Hildigard’s birth/death dates aren’t given, but she was clearly old enough to have been named. Dying young was clearly significant; perhaps on the same level of notability as dying childless or dying on an adventure. However, the Old Took was famous and influential, so it’s reasonable that there be more interest in his children’s fates than usual, and that Hildigard’s early death is recorded for those reasons, while perhaps working-class hobbits would have just lost children without recording them.

There is only one “working class” hobbit family tree, and that’s Sam’s.

And while it doesn’t have death dates, we do see that they all started having kids in early adulthood, around the age of 40. Sam’s parents had 6 kids over an 18-year span (!). Of those, 4 achieved adulthood as indicated by marriage or career updates. Again, there might have been dead ones left off the family tree/dying unnamed, if we use that theory I came up with. or this might genuinely be all the kids Hamfast and Bell had, and Daisy and May might have died. But we’re still seeing a general pattern of couples producing more than 2 living kids.

2. The statement in canon is that hobbits have notably “large families”, implying both lots of (living) siblings to be observed, but also something especially worthy of comment. The historical 30%-or-whatever mortality rate could certainly reduce numbers of babies like anything! but there would still have to be a LOT of siblings and cousins and big kids knocking around to create the apparently-accepted canon cultural truth of “hobbits have large families.” Then consider if they were living in a setting where it was normal for all families of all races to be affected by the same problems; they would have, say, five children, of whom two would survive early childhood. If that was expected and natural, those other people still have to turn around and point to hobbits, saying “THOSE little buggers have REALLY big families.”

Fold into that the fact that hobbits are (for their own reasons) living in extremely functional and prosperous 1700s-1800s England, with plenty of food and tea and biscuits, and a functioning postal service - while everyone else is living in various times of antiquity, and constantly getting mown down by raiders. and it seems like it should be backwards; humans should be having huge families with a few survivors, while hobbits should only be having a few kids. What the HELL are they doing over there -

3. We do need something to actually kill off the kids. We do need some cause or factor to do it. The absolute best thing is disease, especially infectious diseases! Especially since we’ve shown that we aren’t seeing family-tree indications of bearers and children dying together in childbirth, which was a formerly popular way to go - let’s go for the next best thing of preventable infectious diseases! And the tricky thing about disease is that the patterns here would have to be continually carrying off medium-sized children and young adults. This would crop the population like a mown lawn, constantly picking off people before they reproduced, while allowing the overall impression of “big families.” But this would have to be an infectious disease that somehow isn’t captured in family trees. And doesn’t stop mothers from bearing kids regularly. And doesn’t follow cycles of epidemic or pandemic (all the families all losing cousins at once in the same year etc.) so their most impactful diseases would have to be things like consumption (tuberculosis) where plenty of people can live as carriers, everyone has different levels of resistance, and they succumb to the disease at different times. I am quite happy for the Shire to have a lot of tuberculosis knocking around. Crammed full of TB. It doesn’t ever make a huge dent on the population, but it definitely hits constantly.

4. We could expect that non-infectious diseases - cancer, heart disease, stroke, diabetes, etc - should be constantly and continuously wiping out a decent number of adults - although those normally don’t interfere with reproduction and don’t solve our problem. But hobbit life histories as recorded in those stupid family trees are VERY annoying. They’re so annoying with it that in a 2022 paper intended to teach evolutionary biology to kids, authors analysing hobbits had to conclude that hobbits were probably just resistant to disease and cancer. Those stupid birth/reproduction/death dates indicate a life history slower and more resilient than humans. There probably is a decent amount of this happening anyway, but to the adults, not so much the kids. The family trees definitely and continuously imply an absurdly resilient race that really should have a huge population.

5. Kids should definitely be dying by accident a lot - drowning, falling down stairs (admittedly their architecture has few stairs) and so on. However, the culture seems to suggest that it would have to be quite a subtle continuous attrition of children. Disasters, accidents, attacks and famines are all so rare in the Shire that people literally still talk about interesting deaths a generation later. Frodo’s parents were considered completely unhinged for dying of drowning. The Fell Winter, in 2911/1311, was legendary for being difficult - in the Unfinished Tales Gandalf says:

“They (the shire-folk) were very hard put to it then: one of the worst pinches they have been in, dying of cold, and starving in the dreadful dearth that followed.”

The Fell Winter caused a drop in population, and it’s possible that they hadn’t recovered from it by the time of the books; but everyone had a lot of kids since then, and it’s still a huge legendary outlier and the worst thing that every happened to their species.

Notably there weren’t many deaths in 1311 recorded in the family trees, which is obviously due to Tolkien not matching stuff up (this whole situation is about him not matching stuff up, and us filling in the gaps). But the point I wanted to make here is that disasters are rare to hobbits.

6. A possible theory is that every hobbit even tangentially related to the Fellowship hobbits has possessed a disproportionate share of luck and fecundity, so their family trees are absurd, and everyone else is just DEAD.

7. To be fair we do see a LITTLE political impact that could be attributed to having more young people than old ones. In The Hobbit, the middle-aged Bilbo is extremely conservative and concerned with reputation and respectability; the Shire is openly prejudiced against other races. But by LotR we meet a younger generation of hobbits who are very different. Some of this is possibly due to Bilbo having changed the culture a little bit (and that’s Gandalf’s own hope and meta-explanation*) but some of it could be because of the population effect I mentioned way back - constant, ever-growing new generations being (theoretically) ever-harder to control through cultural expectations, and therefore being ever more progressive and flexible.

For this we can see Fatty Bolger - a friend of the Fellowship hobbits, who is presented as the least brave and progressive of them all, therefore elected the one staying home as a decoy while the rest of them trot off happily on a high-risk quest. Fatty casually achieves some impressive feats without worrying at all about respectability. He agrees to be a living decoy for the Nazgûl, escapes them on foot and raises the alarm, and later is a rebel leader in the occupied Shire. The Bolgers are in a reasonable approximation of the same social class as the Baggins family, and Fatty did this while being younger than Bilbo, but Fatty is seemingly willing to go into ride-or-die mode. Bilbo’s constant personal worries and fears about “hobbits don’t do that, hobbits do this” and “is this respectable” don’t seem to form part of the Fellowship hobbits’ mental landscape, and even the most cowardly of the young generation is shown being active, brave, and taking initiative. By the time of Fellowship, a working-class hobbit openly declares his desire to observe other races (Sam’s fascination with elves), young hobbits apparently normalise far-ranging camping trips all the time, Gandalf is a frequent Disturber of the Peace, dwarves come from all over to help out with a birthday party, and Frodo’s four best friends plan a journey outside the Shire in a spirit of helpful mischief. Culturally, they’re more open and responsive than Bilbo portrayed them.

So it’s possible that the Shire is in a constant state of ongoing exponential growth and development and progress, and is just so obscure that nobody has noticed that yet. And THAT could be why they’re reasonably technologically advanced and so on. Which slightly changes the flavour - but once again requires the reader’s input and imagination and research and three different sources to bring to light. So we might as well just have whatever fun we like, right? The ultimate answer is that Tolkien didn’t think about it! and meanwhile he made so many statements of such confidence and such implications that they created huge numbers of attractive fanfic gaps, in which fans can nest, like cliff swallows.

At any rate, it’s all provocation and good fun. You might as well announce that hobbit family trees are a mishmash of kinship types that conceal a truly goofy amount of polyamorous activity, as try to work out why kids aren’t dying more, when they really should.

* in the Unfinished Tales, Gandalf tells Pippin that he chose a hobbit for Thorin’s company partly because he foresaw an apocalyptic world war coming and wanted hobbits to survive it: he picked Bilbo to be a social catalyst to change their culture and increase their likelihood of surviving it. the Unfinished Tales aren’t 100% canon, but it does seem to have worked.

Every time Sean Astin makes a statement on whether or not Sam and Frodo were indeed gay for each other in lord of the rings he’s always like “well we have to acknowledge that attitudes around sexuality have changed dramatically over the past several decades and since authorial intent is only up to speculation, the story is open to multiple readings, some of which might have different significances for different groups of people also they kiss on the lips because I said so”

[slowcinnamon]

let me love you

bangchan x f reader

words counted: 9927

warnings: alcohol use, public tension?, oral sex (f rec), fingering (f rec), unprotected sex (dont!!!), daddy kink (soft), praise kink, a bit of emotional manipulation?? softdom!chris - let me know if i forgot smthing plsss

genre: romance, angst n smut

summary: chris and you have been best friends for many years, slowly beginning to have feelings for each other but you two had never confessed it for fear of rejection, although you know how you both felt about each other. his birthday was almost there and you wanted it to buy a nice and original gift, so with all your savings, you ordered a silver necklace that you had completely designed.

author's note: hiiiiii!!! this is my first fic, hehe. constructive comments are accepted :P hope you like it !!! :3

ฅ/ᐠ˶> ﻌ<˶ᐟ\ฅ

At this point in your life, it was no longer a secret that you and Chris liked each other.

You two had been best friends for years, each slowly developing feelings for the other and, although you never confessed it because of each other's fears and problems, everyone knew it, even you both.

Neither of you had ever said anything to the boys, but they themselves quickly realized when your looks and moments together went from being sweet and innocent to having deep meanings; those intimate and intense looks, the too long touches or the way you had to be close to each other in all situations, even unconsciously.

You yourselves began to realize each other's feelings due to the constant teasing of the boys, the way you missed each other or the deeply sincere conversations that you always shared about your life or emotions although you was never completely honest with him because of your own fears and issues; fears based on not being enough for him and lacking everything he was. He was an idol and you were just an ordinary person. The issues of the constant comparison with the people around him, always telling yourself that he needed someone like him, someone from his world so that he wouldn't lower himself. You loved him, deeply, that's why you pushed him away every time you could.

Therefore, being his best friend and keeping things platonical already seemed enough to you and your feelings.

It had been a few hours since Chris's birthday had started and you were with Changbin and Hyunjin, the three of you waiting for the bartender to finish preparing your fourth mojito of the night. For the occasion, and after having Hyunjin, Felix and Jeongin at your house for two hours discussing what you were going to wear, you decide to be totally faithful to your style.

"I don't know why I listen to you, honestly. I feel out of place with what I'm wearing" you murmur while once again, letting out a sigh while you continue resting your back on the bar counter and take another quick look at the huge room that Chris had reserved for his birthday, which was completely full with famous people in their expensive clothes.

"You're always exaggerating, there are plenty of people more dressed down than you," Changbin says as he takes a sip of his drink, also looking around the room. Changbin’s dresses in a black suit and Hyunjin has a white suit on, with a few buttons of his white dress shirt unbuttoned.

Hyunjin nods with a small mischievous smile, "Oh, yes. Look at that one..." while discreetly pointing his head at a girl who’s dressed in a red dress and yellow heels, he murmurs, then suppresses a giggle as he takes a quick sip of his drink, "She's the female version of the McDonald's clown." you nudge him gently, trying to suppress a laugh as you listen how Changbin can't contain himself and bursts into laughter along with Hyunjin.

Hyunjin's laugh begins to grow louder and he covers his mouth with his hand, almost choking on his drink as he watches the girl from afar. Changbin also laughs at Hyunjin laughing and pats his back, "S-stop it, bro. You're going to die from laughing." Hyunjin holds his chest before breathing a bit, "Oh God, I can't stand it. And she looks so happy in that dress."

You can't help but make a comment too, “Maybe she thought it was a costume party,” still suppressing a giggle and Changbin laughs again, this time, covering his mouth to avoid spitting out his drink.

Hyunjin nods and takes a big sip of his drink, trying to calm himself down, "The only thing that's missing is that she starts distributing hamburgers to everyone. That would be the cherry on top." he laughs after saying it and you two burst out laughing at Hyunjin's comment.

Changbin then pats Hyunjin's back again and lets out a sigh, "God, you're going to make me pee myself from laughing as hard as we are right now."

"I didn't know Chris had friends who cosplayed," you say again, unable to stop making comments while turning your back on the girl to start laughing.

Hyunjin and Changbin burst into laughter again, the tall one puts his drink down on the counter to keep himself from choking on it. When the two finally stop laughing, Hyunjin stands straight and leans against the bar counter again, taking a big sip of his drink before he speaks again, "At least we're not the only ones laughing, I saw Felix and Jeongin dying of laughter a few minutes ago."

Changbin chuckles and takes another sip of his drink, leaning casually against the bar counter as well, "I'd be concerned about Chris but he seems to be having the time of his life," he motions to glance over at Chris, who can be seen chatting and laughing with multiple people around the room.

You and Hyunjin follow Changbin's gaze, watching Chris seem to be enjoying himself. Your gaze stops to observe how he laughs, showing his dimples before you lower your gaze to his clothes, beginning to drool internally at seeing him once again in that black suit with a couple of buttons undone. But before you start to eat him with your eyes, the voice of the bar waiter tells you that your drink is ready, breaking you out of your trance and taking your gaze away from Chris to direct it to the waiter, thanking him before picking it up and carrying the straw to your lips to sip the mojito.

As you take a sip of your drink, you notice Hyunjin and Changbin sharing a knowing glance between the two of them before Hyunjin speaks once again, "So..." he begins, raising his eyebrow as he glances at you, "Have you given Chris his birthday gift yet?"

Changbin raises his eyebrows a bit and takes another sip of his drink, his eyes also on you as he silently listens to the conversation while Hyunjin waits for your response.

"No, not yet," you answer as you look at them a little excited, making both raise their eyebrows, then you gently bite your lower lip, leaving the drink on the countertop and looking back to where Chan is, "I wanted to give it to him earlier but it seems like he doesn't get tired of talking and talking and I don't want to cut him off." you look back at the boys to shrug, downplaying it, "I'll give it to him later." Hyunjin and Changbin's curiosity only grows more as they continue to look at you.

"You seem excited," Hyunjin teases with a smirk and Changbin nods as he smiles.

"Yeah, a little too excited.” he narrows his eyes, “What did you get him?"

“Uhm... I asked a jeweler to make a necklace I had designed for Chris a reality.” you murmur a little shyly, feeling your cheeks take on a slight pink tone and then pick up your drink and take a small sip, “So a personalized and... unique necklace in the world?”

Hyunjin and Changbin exchange a glance between themselves, both of them impressed at the amount of effort you put into Chris' present. In front of the intrigued looks of the boys, you decide to show them the gift before they start asking. You set the drink on the countertop and open your bag, pulling out a small black satin box, which you open to reveal its contents.

The necklace was made of silver with eight small stars, representing SKZ, on the sides and a cross similar to the Chrome Hearts' design in the middle but with the difference that in the middle of it, was a small black diamond.

You let Hyunjin's hands take the small box so the two of them could inspect the contents as they both stare down at the necklace, speechless and both impressed with how good the necklace looked.

"Damn, that's... beautiful. I didn't know you were putting so much effort into this."

Hyunjin nods in agreement, his eyebrows raised in curiosity, "Let me guess... was it expensive?"

“Kinda.”

"God, I knew you were going to do that." Changbin says as he shakes his head, "Of course you were going to spend all your savings on him.”

You roll your eyes as you gently shake your head and Hyunjin hands you back the box, which returns to your bag before you close it, "It's the first time I've bought something expensive from Chris. I'm a bit uneasy in case he gets all 'I don't want you to spend money on me' mood."

Hyunjin and Changbin both agree with you at the same time, "He's definitely going to do that," they both say, and you can't do anything but snort a bit as Changbin continues speaking, "That idiot doesn't like people spending a lot of money on him but he’ll put it on as soon as you give it to him," they both keep their eyes on you for a few more seconds before Changbin glances back at Chan and murmurs, “You’re never going to ask each other out, are you?"

You feel heat start to burn in your face as you hear Changbin's words, a small smile settling on your lips. Even though you had never confessed anything and both of you continued to silently suffer, you were well aware that the two boys knew about it. And that makes you feel a little embarrassed, because honestly, you hated having to talk about it and having to repeat the same answer over and over again. You hated their speeches about your emotions and the attempts to 'make you open your eyes'.

Deep down inside you knew that your actions only caused immense pain to Chan, who wanted to shower you in all his love and make you see that you were more than enough for him, but your fears had always controlled your life.

“Never,” you murmur in response while shaking your head and they both sigh as you leave the glass empty and you call the bartender's attention, "A vodka with lemon, please."

After your second glass of vodka with lemon, your senses began to become blurred. You had continued talking to Changbin and Hyunjin but you didn't remember a single thing that had come out of their mouths, just the way you kept giggling as you continued ordering drinks.

At some point, Chris stopped talking to the group and approached you, laughing at your jokes and enjoying the company and due to your state, you couldn’t help but begin to navigate towards the territory that you had forbidden yourself. The party was at its peak, with most people drinking and dancing while enjoying themselves, but you still hadn't given your gift to Chan.

Hyunjin was trying to explain a joke but between how he slurred his words and how he laughed while explaining it, no one understood him, you were just laughing at the scene. Changbin, who was the most sober of the group, watched the scene with a raised eyebrow while laughing until he saw how you and Chris were looking at each other while laughing and spoke when a comfortable silence fell among the group after the laughter, "Are you going to give him the gift or what?"

"Oh, yes, yes..." you murmur with your pinky cheeks due to alcohol. With slightly shaky hands, you open your bag for the second time that night, pulling out the small box and reaching your hand towards him so Chan could grab it.

"I hope you like it," you murmur excited and nervous, taking a quick look at his hands before focusing on his face.

His hand slowly reaches out, taking the box from your grasp as his eyes continue to stay focused on you, "You didn't have to-"

Changbin huffs from behind and interrupts his sentence, "Just open it, Chan."

He can feel your gaze staring at him which only causes his own body to become tense and his heart to palpitate a bit more than it already was and you chew on your lower lip nervously as your eyes watch him open the black box, his eyes almost widening a bit surprised as he processes the contents of said box.

"Holy shit..." he murmurs as he stares down at the silver necklace in complete awe, his eyes tracing every single little detail that was on the jewelry.

He delicately takes the necklace out of the box, almost handling it with the same care he would handle a newborn baby, examining it closely and you start to grow even more nervous. As he turns the necklace around, you feel even more anxious at the idea of him hating your gift and your breath gets stuck in your throat when he finally looks back at you with his doe eyes.

"You don't like it?" you speak quickly, making your words slur a little as you look at him totally embarrassed and take another step to take the necklace from his hands, "I-I can change it, you know? I can tell him th-"

"No, what? No" Chan's immediate response, quickly as yours, interrupts your thoughts and he tightens his grip on the necklace, not giving you the chance to take it from his grasp, “I do like it. I actually love it.”

Your body relaxes when you see how a small smile begins to widen on his mouth, perfectly showing his dimples as he once again stares down at the silver necklace in his grasp, making you let out a small sigh of relief. You know he's not lying when he says he loves it; his ears begin to turn crimson.

"I just..." he starts again as that smile he has on his face never falters, "I just wasn’t expecting this... How much did it cost you?”

"It doesn't matter" your response is immediate, noticing how a small frown creases Chris’ forehead as he begins to open his mouth again to probably start a monologue, but so before he can say anything, not wanting to hear him say the same thing over and over again, Hyunjin chimes in.

"Can I see it?" Hyunjin cuts him off before a word comes out of his mouth, leaning in to get a better view as he puts a hand on your shoulder, a silent and discreet way of saying 'I've got you' and Chan nodds. “Damn,” Hyunjin says, feigning surprise and looking at the small jewelry on Chan's grisp as if he hadn't seen it before, “I always knew you had a good taste. It looks cool.”

You smile a bit when you see him helping in the situation, but your attention then goes back to Chris, who continues to stare at the piece of jewelry in his hands with a frown on his mouth.

“I…" Chan starts again as he tightens his hold on the necklace a bit, almost as if someone could take it from him, "I really do love it... But you shouldn’t have-"

Again, Changbin steps between the interaction, “Yeah, yeah. Can’t people do anything without you lecturing them all the time, goddamnit?” his tone is a bit annoyed as he rolls his eyes at his friend, "She just wanted to pamper you for your birthday. Just accept the damn gift, Chris,” he lets out as he lightly slaps at the leader's shoulder and Chan lets out a sigh. You have to suppress a chuckle at the scene before you, knowing that Changbin was speaking for everyone with his words. Chris's grip relaxes on the jewel and his gaze returns to you, searching for words to appreciate the gift, he knows he should just be thankful but that feeling in his chest prevents him.

"Don't worry Chris, it's okay," you try to reassure with a small smile and your shoulder receives a squeeze from Hyunjin before he returns to his previous position, leaning on the bar. Chris raises his hand, his eyes flickering between it and your face, offering you the necklace as he asks, "Can you… can you help me put it on?" you nod.

Your heart fluttered in your chest at his request as you took a step closer to him, and Chan’s heart practically leaped into his throat. Your hands carefully take the necklace from him and with slightly shaky fingers, you place the necklace around Chris’ neck; the cold metal of the necklace coming in contact with his skin and making him shiver slightly, making him hyper-aware of every movement, touch or breath. He can’t help but lean into your touch just a little bit, relishing in the feeling of the proximity of you and your face.

You fastened it and made sure it was sitting properly before moving it around his neck, making the necklace clasp stay at the back of his neck. But even though you have just closed the clasp, you stay where you were while you lower your hands to your sides; not separating yourself even a centimeter from him and he doesn’t dare to move or speak either.

Chris's cologne come directly in with every breath you took, along with that look in his eyes; that look that beggs you to let go for once and finally give in to your desires repressed for years made your mind go back to the fine line you have been avoiding all night when he returned to your side.

But as quickly as the moment came, as quickly it leaves when you hear Hyunjin’s whisper to Changbin, which has come out louder than he wanted.

You finally look away from his eyes, and Chris does the same, avoiding eye contact to try and hide how red his face and ears have become, causing an awkward silence to hang in the air. You turn to look at the guys, who look at you both with a clumsiness look in their eyes and Changbin glances at Hyunjin before grabbing his arm and pulling him away from the bar.

"I... I think we’re going to go find Han," Changbin quickly says, not wanting Hyunjin to disturb any longer between you and Chan and begins to move away from you, dragging the highest, "See you... later?" both you and Chris murmur a soft "yeah, see you later" as you watch the two boys leave, hearing a “good job, dumbass” from Changbin.

After the two boys leave, an uncomfortable silence fills the atmosphere around you and Chris. You can feel a lump in your chest, probably the alcohol mixed with your own emotions; your breath falters a small bit, and your heart pounds with a force you didn’t know you could feel, you feel your skin burn with desire.

With your eyes focusing on the floor in front of you, you bite your lower lips, the taste of vodka on your tongue. You know that you shouldn’t look up. You know that if you look up, you won’t be able to look away.

As if your head was on autopilot, you slowly lift your gaze, letting your eyes travel up to his face. The necklace was perfect on him, the silver contrasting perfectly with his skin and the black of his clothes. His eyes immediately turn to yours, as if he was already waiting, as if his focus had never left you. You feel your heartbeat get faster, your breathing labored as the alcohol running through your body makes everything more intense.

"Uhm... It looks good on you," is the first thing you think of saying to try to reduce the awkwardness. You try to look back at the necklace, at something other than his eyes, but you can't, feeling the alcohol take over every one of your senses, the sound of the people having fun in the background muffling, everything feeling distant, like if you were trapped in a bubble only the two of you can see. His own eyes are roaming all over your face too, the desire and hunger in them making your legs feel like jelly, as if he could take you right there.

"Yeah?” he murmurs in response, his voice slightly low, almost a soft caress that makes your senses go even crazier. He takes a small step towards you, invading your personal space without even caring, reducing the space between you almost completely, "You like how it looks on me?"

He is trying to be cheeky, and you can see it in his eyes. You bite your lower lip, your brain screaming to look away, to not get carried away by the intense gaze of the man in front of you. You know you’re a couple of seconds away from starting something, but you still don’t look away from him, chewing your lower lip again and a lucid idea comes to your mind; it was as if he...

"You've been waiting for us to be alone."

“Maybe.”

"How drunk are you?," you ask carefully, knowing that you two are starting to not think rationally.

"Honestly? Pretty drunk" he confesses, his words coming out slightly slurred, but even then, you can clearly hear the desire in his voice, “You?”

“Same. Enough to regret tomorrow”

Both of you stare at each other, analyzing, feeling that same tension coursing through the air. You didn’t need to say much, you didn’t need to speak with words, each of you knows what the other is thinking, each of you are aware of the fine line of the situation and the alcohol is making everything more intense. The look in his eyes, the way he keeps staring at you without blinking an eye,his cologne flooding your senses in the best and worst way possible. It’s all too much, and yet, it's still not enough.

"Chris, no- we're not thinking rationally," you mutter, slurring your words a little because of how quickly they come out of your mouth, "We're supposed to have a line, remember? And we're about to cross it-”

“Then push me away,” he almost dares you as he cutt you off, his hands slowly slide next to your arms as grabs the edge of the countertop, pinning you against the counter of the bar, “Tell me you don't wanna and I swear I won't do it again.”

“I…” you murmur under your breath, trying to think of anything to stop both of your brains from fading into the drunken lust.

“You what? You’re scared?” he asks rhetorically, raising an eyebrow and then letting out a quiet sigh, “Don't you realize that we can't continue like this? I like you, you like me. Why don't you let me love you?”

You both looked into each other's eyes with an intensity that revealed all the feelings that you did not let come to the surface and tried to bury. You look into his chocolate brown eyes as if you’re bewitched by them and the way his eyes seem to almost stare into your soul. The closeness creates as if the world around you were a simple blur that makes you feel even dizzier.

His mind is clouded with all the things he wants to say and do, but the words are stuck in his throat for the way you were looking at him, making him feel like he’s the only person in the world. Chan's eyes darts downwards to your lips for a brief moment before quickly flicking back up to your eyes and he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly, when he found himself leaning just a millimeter closer to you, lips almost brushing yours.

“Let me love you, please…” he whispers in a low tone, making the words sound like a breathless prayer on his tongue.

You know it's wrong, you'll regret it the moment your mind becomes fully conscious again but your body simply can't keep up with the self-imposed prohibition nor even the same beg look in his eyes, so you just lock your lips with his.

With your soft, sweet permission as you close your eyes, Chan allows himself to move the hand he has on the edge of the countertop to place it on the side of your neck, cupping it and immediately closing his eyes at the contact.

The party, the people, the loud music, everything, disappear as a lost train that never returns. It feels like every nerve in your bodies is ignited as you both savor the taste of the other; every bit of non-talked emotions replaced by an overwhelming wave.

Chan kisses you with a sweet intensity as if he’s trying to make up for the years of suppressed feelings. He pulls you closer to him, his other hand finding your hip and resting on it as he deepened the kiss, his tongue gently requesting entrance between your lips, which you gave it to him with delight as your hands travel to his shoulders.

You open your mouth slightly and Chris doesn’t waste a second entering it, causing your right hand to slide to the back of his head, grabbing his hair between your fingers as if your life depen on it. Chris lets a guttural sound escape his throat and buries his fingers hard into your hip, which you respond with a soft gasp.

His tongue explores your mouth eagerly, tasting and claiming every inch, leaving the two of you in a moment of undeniable connection and raw emotion and with a shudder; he gently pushes you against the countertop, tilting your head a bit to give him better access to your mouth, making you moan quietly in response.

Chris swallows the sound of your moan, feeling a wave of desire wash over him as he pushes you harder against it and his body against yours, pinning you between himself and the cold surface behind you.

He pulls back, both of you breathless, just enough to trail kisses down your jaw and throat, his nose pressing into the soft skin of your neck as he drank in the scent of you and taste of your skin, leaving hot kisses along your neck as he slowly makes his way to your lips, also leaving a quick there before separating his face from you.

Chris rests his forehead against yours as he, despite the desire coursing through him, can’t help but admire the sight of you; eyes shining while looking at him, lips parted and in a reddish color.

His eyes linger over your messy figure for a few seconds, his tongue moistening his lips as if he could still taste you in them, as if you could still melt in his mouth, "Let’s get out of here.”

“But your birthday party-”

“Fuck it."

He took a step back, reluctantly releasing his grip on your hip, but his other hand grabbed yours, lacing his fingers through yours and started to lead you inside the club and towards the exit.

"And the boys?"

"I’ll text them later."

Not even your mind responded clearly anymore, so clouded by the taste of his mouth and the desire for his hands to run over your body that you couldn't articulate any denial.

Chris hailed a cab and in the blink of an eye, you two were at your apartment, your lips locking againg once he closed the door. Everything happened so quickly as you walked blindly to your room, leaving your pieces of clothes and shoes along the way.

You realize you were both only wearing underwear when your back hits the soft sheets of your bed and your head the pillows, with Chris on top of you.

Chan breaks the kiss briefly to trail his mouth around your throat for a few seconds, trying to contain the desire that was coursing through his entire being as he tastes your skin and hear your gasps in response, and he move his mouth down to your collarbone, leaving open-mouthed kisses over your chest and then going down to your stomach, his hot tongue leaving a hot stripe of saliva as he continues to go down until he reaches your hip bone, suddenly felt your fingers tugging the strands of his hair.

Chris stops immediately to raise his head a little, looking at you with doe eyes, captivated by the image in front of him. His hands travel from your hips to the edge of your panties, slowly lowering them as you raise your hips a little to help him and throwing them somewhere in the moonlit room.

He lets out a gasp as he looks at your exposed wet pussy, and you see his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows in an almost greedy way. His eyes seem as if he's admiring some kind of rare diamond, and even if you want to hide and feel self-conscious about your body, the look in his eyes makes you shiver, the intensity with which he looks at you makes you feel like the most beautiful girl to step on earth.

"Tell me how bad you want it" he whispers, almost in a daze, as his hands travel again to your thighs, feeling your skin like a delicate fabric, tracing patterns over your inner legs, to which you respond by lowering a bit his head until his nose and lips brush against your folds, “Use your words, princess.” his breath directly against your cunt causes a cold shiver to run down your spine, anticipating the pleasure and you let out a quiet gasp.

“Please…” you whisper in a tremulous tone, feeling your cheeks burn with desire and perhaps a little bit of embarrassment for the intense look of the man in front of you and you bite your lower lip as he brushes his nose over your folds again, enjoying the way you squirm under his touch; your response to his pleas makes him feel a wave of satisfaction and heat in his stomach, “I-I want it so bad, please Chris”

"There we go" Chris praises you quietly, a satisfied smile on his lips, "You're doing such a good job for me, princess, I know you can do better." He gives your aching pussy a quick lick, making you whine, as if he was analyzing your reaction, and then wets his lips to speak again, "Tell me how you want me to touch you, I need to know, yeah?,” you eagerly nod and he slowly, gently pushes your legs a little more apart and he leans in a little more between them, his breath warming your core before he buries himself on your pussy.

Chris starts soft, even gentle; moving his tongue up and down and sucking your bundle of nerves with his gaze fixed on you and your reactions to know if you’re liking his work, but with every whimper or moan that comes out of your mouth, he increases the intensity, reaching to the point that he’s eating you as if it was his first meal in years. The obscene sounds his mouth makes while sucking your clit and the way you squirm under him fills your room, together with the light of the moon coming in through the slightly open window and shining a light on Chris, making his eyes shine, are the only things your head can focus on right now. Every nerve of your body is connected to his mouth and there’s nothing more delicious, making you clench your fists in his soft hair.

“Fuckfuck, Chris, Chris-” is all you can manage to murmur in a soft moan, not feeling yourself in control of your own words as his chocolate glossy gaze’s still fixed on you, “Fingers, fingers please.” The sweet, impatient plea makes him feel proud; proud to have you moan and shiver like that, to have you writhing under him so nicely and a sound that’s between a satisfied moan and a soft, low laugh comes from his mouth as soon the word ‘fingers’ leaves your mouth. Chris immediately obeys, “Yeah, baby, I got you” purrs against your wetness, leaving a wet kiss before pulling himself away as he takes his right hand from your right thigh and bringing his middle and ring fingers to your folds; rubbing them to catch your juices mixed with their saliva and bring them to your lips. Chris doesn't have to say anything for you to open your mouth and start sucking his fingers as if it was the most important mission of your life.

“Such a good girl, mh?” he praises you again, watching intently with his pupils dilated the way you seem to enjoy savouring the mix, “I would never have guessed you were that nasty.” he teased, tilting his head slightly before slowly removing his fingers, now wet with your saliva, from your mouth and bringing them to you core. He moves them down your entrance, mocking you as you can feel how you clench around nothing and without any notice, slides them in a smooth motion, feeling how tight and warm you are.

Your eyebrows furrow at the sudden intrusion and you look at him with your mouth open, unable to say a word when he begins to move them inside you, curving them to easily hit your sweet spot, “Did I make you that excited?” he asks in a teasing tone while leans towards to place his lips on the crook of your neck, biting softly without looking away from you. A whiny “Chris- fuck yes” comes from your throat, one of your hands grips his wrist tightly; feeling in your grip how his muscles tense and relax as he moves his fingers and you close your eyes, still with your brows furrowed. "Keep… Saying my name, you sound… So pretty," he mutters between bites, his eyes fixed on your expressions as he picks up the speed of his fingers, "Will you keep being a good girl for daddy?”

Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. It echoes through your mind and you involuntarily cum around his fingers, making you both moan at the action at the same time that your fluids ran down Chris's wrist. Chris stops his work on your neck to raise his head and look at you carefully, a teasing smile on his face, "Did you just cum on my fingers because I called myself ‘daddy’?” his fingers lower the intensity, riding your orgasm and bringing you out breathless gasps.

Your eyes flutter, face completely flushed as you catch your breath from your sudden orgasm, not being able to articulate many words. When your eyes finally lock with his, his satisfied and teasing smile pronounces, “Don’t look at me like that,” you murmur as he brings his wet fingers to his mouth for a quick taste before licking them clean with one of his eyebrows raised. “You look cute,” Chris responds once he removes his fingers and slides his hand down your throat until he brings it to the side of your neck, cradling it while his mouth approaches your jaw to begin a route of kisses to your mouth, "But answer me."

“Yeah, yeah, I did,” he continues his path of kisses up to your mouth, gently biting your lower lip, “I thought so… Does it make you feel good to have daddy taking care of you?” he asks in a sweet tone, completely contrary to the weight of the phrase, before leaving a small kiss on your lips. You can’t help but purr softly a “Yes… Daddy,” that makes him kiss you again, smiling against your lips. Chris sits on his knees between your legs, still with his face close to yours and he takes your wrist in his free hand, bringing it to his black design boxers, letting you feel his thick hard cock under them, “You think your tight little pussy can handle me?,” you swallow, already imagining how it looks, but the moment he lets out your wrist and pulls his boxers down, leaning up straight for you to see him, your mouth and pussy wets again; a big red tip monster. You look at him with slightly widened eyes and he chuckles, “Small packages have big surprises, babe.”

The view in front of you is magnificent, to say the least; broad shoulders, muscular arms with some veins popping, delicious and big pecs that make the necklace you gift him look simple, abs where his hard cock collides with and that teasing look as he bites his lip, capturing all your reactions. Your skin crawls while you entrance clenchs again around nothing and you unconsciously open your legs more, to which he responds by pulling down his boxers completely and throwing them away.

Chris looks at your dripping pussy for a few seconds, swallowing the lump in his throat, “Liking what you see, princess?” asks with an arrogant smile, “You look delicious while mouth-watering yourself”. He leans over you again, slowly approaching the warmth of your body, lowering his head to press his lips to the sensitive skin of your neck and leaving a trail of small kisses until he reaches your ear. “Let’s see if daddy can make you mindless, shall we?” he whispers as his fingertips ghosts the skin of your thighs until he reaches your knees and grips them to lift your legs, placing them on his shoulders.

His grip loosens and his left hand lowers to his throbbing dick, pumping himself before lining himself up to your wet entrance as he rubbs his tip on your juices, "Tell me if it hurts, okay?" he whispers again against your ear, grabbing your waist and slowly pulling his hips towards you, entering his tip. He continues to bring his hips closer to yours until he fully enters and feels the way your walls receive him; squeezing him and in turn, soaking him. Both of you moan due to the new sensation and Chris lets his forehead rest on your shoulder, taking the opportunity to leave a love bite on the skin of your collarbone.

“You’re so tight… Fuck,” he says through his teeth while he feels your body adjusting to him and he lifts his head from your shoulder to lock his gaze with yours. His hair is disheveled and his eyes are slightly glossy, making him look more beautiful than usual. Your hands wander up his arms, going up to his shoulders and digging softly your nails, “Y-you can move,” you say in a plea and he didn’t need further instructions to start moving his hips at a slow pace, although it didn't last long.

The sticky sounds and skin crashing filling your ears as his dick goes in and out of your pussy at a speed your mind couldn't handle. He leans back to take a better look of you, his ego boosting at the way you’re under him letting out loud sounds. The moonlight seep throught the window, bathing his toned body, making the sweat on his skin almost shine as you look at him as if he was a god to worship. His hair falls over his forehead and eyes, which are still staring deep into yours when you arch your back by the new position. “C-chris- daddy? Fuckfuckfuck,” you mutter under your breath while he brings his right hand to you, putting his index and middle finger in your mouth, “Suck. I know you like to play with your mouth,” he commands to let a guttural sound out of his throat when your warm tongue embraces them and you start sucking.

He hums in satisfaction before taking his fingers out of your mouth and running them over your skin to your neck, leaving a trail of drool that makes you gasp at the sensation. Chris leans towards you again, his lips brushing yours, as he grips on your neck thightly, “Your little pussy needed my cock that bad?” he groans breathlessy, almost sounding like a growl, picking up his pace and starting hitting your sweet spot directly, that's where you can swear he's eyeing at you like you're his prey.

His breath hits your face while he bites his lip and you try to let out a word but he’s feral while his tip bullies your sensitive spot, so only moans come out of your lips that are getting louder and louder. Your grip on his shoulders begins to shake as you dig your nails harder into him and he brings the hand on your waist to your lower stomach, gently pressing down and making sure you feel everything as you squirm more under him. “You like that, mmh?” he groans again and you begin to feel how the overstimulation of sensations gathers in you, legs beginning to tremble, lips already open and walls that squeeze him with more force, you’re so close. Chris seems to feel it and picks up the pace again, bringing his face to the crook of your neck to start licking the hot sweaty skin, “Daddy, I- gonna c-” you try to say but he cuts you off with a soft “Cum, yeah? Cum on daddy’s cock, baby, I know you can- That’s it, good job. Good job, princess” he praises in a sweet tone as you reach the edge with the last loud moan, closing your eyes tightly and releasing your nails from his shoulders to let your arms fall to the mattress while gasping slightly.

Chris's grip on your neck loosens as he continues to crash on your body, quickly reaching his orgasm as well with a guttural moan. For a few seconds, everything else disappeared, and all that existed were you two and the feeling of the world exploding around you.

Then, slowly, reality began to creep back in, and with his tremblous touch he takes your legs off his shoulders to gently place them on the mattress before collapsing on top of you, burying further his face in your neck and wrapping his arms around you. The room was almost silent, save the soft noise of your breathings mixing together. It isn’t until Chris speaks that you could notice the faint sound of the cars and the traffic from the streets outside the building.

“Have I been too hard?” he mutters against your skin, his voice a little winded as both of you try to get yours heartbeats back under control. Your hands move to the back of his head, slowly stroking his hair as your bodies sank in sweat and heat that slowly ceased to exist, “Mh, no, everything was fine, Chris”, you assure with a tired smile, your own voice breathy and soft. He slowly moves from you just enough to raise his upper body and look at you, his chin gently resting on your chest as he does. Chan’s eyes run over your eyes, from your messy hair to your rosy cheeks and your shoulders where he can see the marks from his bites.

He moves one of his hands to push his hair back as his lips pull into a lazy smile before he separates himself from you, getting up from your bed to look for his boxers and put them on quickly, “Don’t move, I’m gonna clean you up… The towels are in the bathroom, right?” you nod while you watch him move in the dark towards the bathroom and return with a small towel in his hands. He picks up your panties from the floor before getting on the bed and start gently cleaning you, “You treat me like a baby,” you murmur to him between giggles as he puts your underwear back on and throws away the towel, looking at you with a smile before lying down next to you and covering both with the sheets, “That’s because I like babying you”.

Chan’s now lying on one side, his head resting on one of his forearms and the other hand absently drawing patterns on your bare belly as you lie on your back, “I’m sleepy” you complain as you move sligthy to lie on your side and face Chris. He moves closer to you, moving one arm under your neck to put you closer to him, pressing your chests while nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck. His right arm envelops your waist tight as a small yawn leaves his lips and he lets out a sigh, “Mmmh, I could get used to this,” he muses with a sleepy voice before leaving a small kiss on your head, and you feel how a wave of reality hits you, hard.

His words make your stomach stir, the realitzation of what has just happened between the two of you being too big to be real. You swallow with some difficulty and you close your eyes, suddenly too aware of his touch, his body around yours as he continues to run his hand affectionately up and down your back while your heart aches at his words; not because you didn’t feel the same, but because he loved you and you were going to break his. You can't help but feel guilty after everything that has happened; yet you can’t stop yourself from snuggling closer into his chest, as if hoping that by doing so you could bury it all to the back of your mind. Chan's hand moves to gently card through your hair, "You know I love you, right?" he mutters against your head, still in an almost sleepy tone, "I've been in love with you forever" he whispers as his lips nuzzle into the crown of your hair while his other arm hugs you tighter to his body, as if he also didn't want to let go.

You bite your lower lip hard and try to be as strong as possible so as not to start crying right there, in his arms, "I know... I've always been in love with you too." your voice is sincere, feelings transparent like a mountain river that has not yet been contaminated but still trembles a little. “Good... Because I’m not planning to give you up,” Chris murmurs, and even if you can’t see his face, you can feel the soft smile through the tone of his voice, still with his head burrowed on your hair. It’s impossible not to feel guilty and undeserving when he cuddles you so affectionately and whispers so lovingly into your hair.

In a short time, you began to feel Chan's soft breathing in your hair, indicating that he had fallen asleep and had left you alone with your internal storm, likewise, it did not take you that long to follow him and fall asleep in his arms, with your body heat.

The faint ray of light coming through the window together with the snoring of the body by your side woke you up, feeling groggy and slightly cold. You opened your eyes, finding yourself glued to Chris’ back, your nose burying in the back of his nape and your hand on his belly. He was like a little furnace that still irradiated heat while being sound asleep, and you could feel the muscles in his abdomen move when he breathed heavily; even under your hand. You carefully left his side, getting out of bed to open the closet and grab the first pajamas you found, feeling how your body gradually began to warm up in the cold morning.

You made your way to the bathroom to remove your completely ruined makeup and wash your face, noticing the marks on your neck and shoulders that had been completely ignored by you at night. You left there starting to feel disappointed again and totally guilty of yourself as you went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, your head felt like it was going to explode, your heart hurt like never before, and you couldn't walk very well. While the coffee maker fills your cup, with your head in your hands while your elbows are on the counter staring at the cup, you feel Chris’ arms around your waist from behind, burrying his face in your neck, murmuring a groggy “G’morning,” voice thick from sleep, to which you reply with a soft, "Morning".

His embrace around your waist is warm and comfortable, but you can't help but tense against him. In his still foggy mind, he doesn't seem to notice that something is wrong, "You smell nice," he mutters in your ear, before leaving a sleepy kiss on the crook of your neck, and that action only made you feel worse, as if the world was crushing you. Chan leaves another small kiss behind your ear before asking, "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, yes, everything’s good, Chris, and you?" you say quickly, stopping the coffee maker to remove your cup and separate yourself from him. You sat on one of the chairs at the dining room table with your cup, completely ignoring the look of confusion that was beginning to form on his face, resting your elbows on the table again to put your head in your hands, "Make yourself a coffee if you want".

Chan walks over to the coffee machine and starts preparing himself a cup, but you can feel his gaze on you from time to time; even if you keep ignoring him. He then goes and sits across from you, in complete silence, his eyes studying the way you were avoiding his gaze to the point of not even looking at him, and then you can hear him take a deep breath before asking, “Is this the part where you tell me 'What happened yesterday shouldn't have happened and that it was a mistake’?”

Your heart clenches at how low and hurt his voice sounds, as if he’s already prepared for the worst, and it makes you feel more than terrible but unable to explain to him at the same time. You can’t see his face, but you’re sure his eyes are beginning to look at you with that dejected expression and it makes it very hard for you to hold your own facade even a second longer, “I… I can’t do this, I’m sorry. I told you I would regret it in the morning, and I am. I've been doing it since after we went to bed”.

The silence that follows your words feels like an eternal torture in which you can’t help but think of what Chris’ feeling, what he thinks of you. After a long minute, he finally speaks, and you can hear in his voice that he is holding back every emotion that runs through him to say something more, “You know… You were the one that took the first step last night. If you told me you would regret it after it, why... Why did you do it?,” but before you can answer, he continues, a dissappointed tone in his voice, "I know you think you’re not enough for me… But this is going too far, don’t you think? I’ve been chasing you for forever and when I finally get you, you do this to me? I- I just don’t understand you!" your stomach twists hearing the way his words start to crack at the end as he speaks, the frustration he feels towards you seeping through every syllable.

Chan stands up in a rush, almost knocking over his chair in the process, running one of his hands through his hair as he walks with short quick steps around the kitchen while the other rests on his hip, “God… I don’t even know what I expected after I saw you avoiding me the first thing,” he mutters, and you’re sure it wasn’t for you to hear, but you did anyway and it makes you feel like you’re shattering, and then he stops in front of you, “Look at me.” You know you have to face the consequences of your own actions, so you slowly raise your head, meeting his eyes for the first time since you woke up. His facial expression was a mixture of frustration and hopelessness, with a gaze you’ve never seen in him before. He takes a few seconds to just look at you as if trying to get some answer to the dozens of questions circling in his mind right now, and then he speaks again, “Why, after everything that happened last night… why are you pushing me away like this? Is it that hard to accept that I love you?” his question makes your heart drop to the pit of your stomach because it’s hard, excruciatingly hard to accept that the guy in front of you is hopelessly in love with you.

His words make you bite your lip to hold back a wave of tears as you finally let out a trembolous sigh, “I want to hear it from your own mouth. Why?” he murmurs with a stern but pained tone. You’ve never hated yourself as much as you do in this moment, seeing his beautiful eyes pleading for an answer, a reason, a damn explanation. It feels like a nightmare, like a cruel punishment, and the only thing you can do is keep staring at him silently as he continues, frustration growing in his voice, “You were the one who initiated everything; the first to move, the first to open up and let me in, and now you’re pushing me back again because you’re insecure?-” “You don't understand anything!” you cut him off, raising your voice and feeling a big ball form in your throat.

“You don't know how much it hurts to constantly compare yourself with all the women next to you, knowing that each and every one of them is better than me in every aspect. I don't want you to be with me! Can it get into your head?” the words come out of your mouth so fast that you don't know if Chris’ understanding you, “I already know that you don't love others, I know that you think that I am enough but can't you understand that I don't see myself like that? I already know it's my problem. That I’m the problem but I can't help but think like that.” At this point you’re standing up, both of your coffees going cold as you look into each other's eyes, sharing a different pain but same intensity.

Chan stares at you with a mix of hurt and confusion, his heart breaking with every word that falls from your lips. He has seen your doubts and fears before, but he didn't think they ran this deep, "I… I don’t understand why you would think this way…" he stutters, his voice quivering, "I've told you countless times how much you mean to me-". “It’s not about what you say, Chris. You can tell me I’m the most important thing in the world every day and I would still believe that I’m not!” you snap, your voice rising again as frustration, guilt and pain bubble over inside you, “I don’t know how many times I have to say I’m not good enough for you to get it” you continue before looking away from him, “So please… Leave.”

Chris falls silent at your words, a pang went through his chest like a dagger, the air in his lungs ceasing to exist and his entire being felt as if it was imploding. Your words echoed loudly in his mind and his eyes widening slightly, "What?" he mutters in an almost disbelieving tone. You avoid his gaze, your mind and heart in turmoil. You know you’re making a mistake, pushing him away like this, but yet, the crippling fear and doubt gnaws at your insides, “Leave,” you beg, in a pleading whisper, still refusing to look at him, “Just go.”

Chan’s completely and utterly stunned as realization sinks in. His eyes widen even more, and his entire body tenses as if hit by electricity. You’ve never seen this expression before, and it makes your heart sink into your stomach. For several seconds, he stays frozen in place, with a completely bewildered expression on his face, his mind trying to process your words, to believe what you just said. And then, softly, he whispers, “Are you seriously asking me to leave?” his voice is so low that it’s a contrast to the loud beat of your own heart. Your stomach twists painfully hearing his pained, disbelieving tone. You know you’re hurting him. That you just made the biggest mistake of your life. Still, you can’t find it in yourself to take it all back and apologize, your fear and insecurity still making you believe that this is the best for him, best to keep him at a safe distance away from your mess. So, you keep looking away from him, fighting to keep your voice steady as you answer hoarsely, “Yes, I want you to leave.”

There’s another second of complete silence. Even your own breaths sound too loud in the quiet of the kitchen, and you swear you can hear the sound of your own heart breaking along with his. Then, his voice, still low, said, "Why are you doing this to me?” his voice sounds broken as he steps closer to you, “I’ve done everything I can to show you how I feel, to prove you wrong… and it's never enough, is it?" he stops right in front of you, but he doesn't try to touch you, just staring at the top of your head.

“I’m sorry, Chris, really.”

Chan keeps staring at you for several more seconds, the silence growing heavier with every moment passing. He closes his eyes and takes a deep, shuddering breath, and you can almost feel the turmoil of emotions in him; his heart bleeding with each passing beat, the pain of your words stabbing through him like a knife. After what feels like an eternity, he opens his eyes, and speaks again, his voice quivering, “Will you look at me?” you can hear the raw pain in his voice, the way it’s cracking, and it makes you want to run your fingers through his hair, hold him tight to your chest. But you don’t do any of those things. You raise your gaze slowly, almost unwillingly, and almost regret it the moment you look into his face, seeing his beautiful face twisted with an expression of pure suffering, his eyes glittering with restrained tears that break your heart even more, and you almost have to bite your tongue to hold back the tears rising in your own eyes as you see the way he’s looking at you.

He’s trying, with all his might, to keep it together. To hold back tears, to keep his own emotions inside him. But he can’t. He can’t stop the corners of his eyes from dampening, the way his bottom lip quivers, or the way his voice breaks when he speaks again,

“I love you. Please, don’t forget it...”

You saw in his eyes how he hesitated whether to kiss you or simply hold your face with his hands but he didn't do any of that. He looked at you, giving you the best smile he could give you at that moment before leaving you alone in the kitchen.

You heard him getting dressed in your room but everything was like a distant noise and muffled by the way you began to cry silently.

The sound of the front door closing was the trigger for you to start sobbing, realizing that you were now totally alone.

In your apartment and in your life.

[gravegoer]

Hiii! English is not my first language so please forgive any mistakes. Could you do an imagine of Sevika where the reader and her have been together for a long time, and the reader almost dies in battle? (Like, she got shot in a place that bleeds a lot, which makes Sevika super worried) And she makes a little confession to the reader? Saying that she can't lose her and stuff like that. Sorry for the long request, it's my first time ordering 😭😭 Thanks anyway 🩷🤍🩷

Wont lose you ʚɞ

thank you for the request,! it was a bit rushed but I like it anyways let me know if you do :)

masterlist!!

Silco sent you on an important mission, taking down this factory all relied on you. Sevika had insisted on being by your side the entire time, but her request was denied.

Her and two other goons sat on the sidelines to make sure you could get in and out without being seen. No fight. No problem.

Why did she have to get stuck with these guys? She would have been better off down there helping you.

She sat outside the doube doors, one of the men lit a cigarillo for her. All was going according to plan so far.

You had gotten in and deactivated some machines. Now you needed to get out.

Sevika, your long time girlfriend was worried. Despite not wanting to admit it you could tell by the look on her face before you crossed the threshold to the factory.

You chuckled to yourself, thinking of how she patted your back on the way in as encouragement.

But you were confident you could carry this out without a hitch.

What you didn't know is there weren't just guards on the outside.

Your footsteps echoed throughout the seemingly empty factory. All you had to do was pour gasoline around the inside perimeter and on the machines and strike a match. It's not that hard.

You were bent over a machine, checking out the parts and gears before you feel a sharp pain of a blunt object on your back. Turning around you instinctively grab it.

A tall, lanky woman stood towering over you. Before she could pull it from your grasp, you kicked her in the stomach. She stumbled backward with a grut. When you dropped the bat, you were met with another thwack to your head.

You let out a muffled cry, biting your lip. You heard the woosh of an object and half-ducked-half-fell. An ambush. How mature. Another metal bat slammed into the ground beside your head. A broad figure stood over you, moving to hit you again. You rolled to the left but not without getting a swift kick to the stomach.

"Urgh." The wind was knocked out of your lungs. But you had no time to hesitate, jumping to your feet and blocking the next strike of the bat with your forearm.

You grabbed it and pulled it forward, bringing the weilder with it. Letting go with one hand, you slam your fist into their throat. The woman from before came back around, picking up her bat again. You met her metal bat with the one in your hands.

It's okay. You could win. The mission was still going according to plan. Two people with bats you could easily take on. You heard a familiar cocking behind your head.

"Drop it"

Fuck.

You didn't.

Instead, you turned to deliver a high kick to their head. But they managed to pull the trigger faster than you could land it.

Bang

You let out a shrill cry and clutched your side. Blood seeped through your fingers and stained your shirt.

"I told you to drop it," Their deep voice hissed.

You could hear three people rushing into the factory, footsteps echoing throughout the establishment. The person that shot you turned their attention to your team. The trigger happy idiot immediately started firing.

Bullets ricochet against the metal. Sometime amidst the chaos, you started to lose consciousness. Black spots littered your vision, and you finally dropped to your knees. A figure bent over you, yelling incoherent things. She jad a hand on your back, gripping your shirt between clammy fingers.

Looking up, you saw Sevikas distressed expression. Sweat dripped down her forehead, and there was a worried crease between her brows. She was shouting things you couldn't quite make out. Maybe something like "We need to leave" or "We are lighting it up." Maybe both.

She grabbed your legs, hand still on your back and hoisted you into her arms. You could feel her warm arm on your upper back and the hardness of her prosthetic against the back of your legs.

In your groggy state you looked up to Sevika, her teeth gritted as she ran throughout the factory with heavy steps. You could hear an explosion come from far behind you.

A ringing in your ears.

She looked down at you.

Then you passed out.

What seemed to be a few hours later, you groggly awoke. Light seeped into your vision and you attempted to get up. "Fuck," A sharp pain shot through your side.

Oh, right. You got shot.

You looked down to where you now held your side, but instead of blood like how you expected, there are sterile bandages. They wrapped around your now mostly bare torso.

Looking around the room, it seemed familiar to you. Right before you could put your finger on it your girlfriend came walking into the room, holding a glass of water.

Her eyes shot wide open, and she started walking a little faster towards your bedside. "Sweetheart, are you okay?"

You laughed at her suprise, "Yeah. Now that you're here"

Your voice was raspy and dry. You reached out for the water in her hand. She instead pushed your hand down and brought the cup up to your lips herself.

"I thought I'd lost you," She sighs in releif.

You took big gulps of water. She had just finished smoking. You could smell it on her hands. You pulled your lips away from the cup and she brought a thumb to your mouth to wipe away stray water droplets.

It was your turn to ask, "Are you okay?"

She let out a dry laugh, "You're the one sitting in bandages in my bed, and you're asking if Im okay?"

She brings her larger hand to your arm, rubbing circles into your skin. Her rough calloused hands brought some comfort to you.

"Im sorry I let that happen. I shouldn't have let you go in there alone. Silco was wrong," She grumbled, clutching her temples.

"Hey, I can do things by myself. It was an unfair attack." You chimed in.

"I don't care. I dont know what i would do if i lost you in there," She spoke firmly.

Her lips were pursed into a straight line. Trying to calm that tension you reached up to grab her face, bringing her lips to yours.

Her lips chased yours when you pulled away. Hissing as you grabbed your side again. "Shit, do i need to change your bandages?" She got up, already heading for the cabinets.

You were usually the one to dress her wounds, not the other way around. "Aww, you bandaged me up?" You cooed.

"Shut up"

[jessjad]

Rightfully deceived

Chapter 5

Summary: When a marriage promise forces Y/N to step up for her younger sister, she gets something she always wanted. But when the truth comes out, her new husband Dean is not so happy about the mix-up. Will she loose it all? Or will she be surprised in the end?

Pairing: AU!Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 5355 (Sorry! 🙈)

Warnings: 18+ only!!! arranged marriage, some tension, angst, perilous situation, smut

A/N: This is a long one, guys. But I didn't want to split it up again. All mistakes are mine! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

Running down the stairs Y/N saw Millie standing at the bottom who called after her, but she could not stop. She told her that she needed a minute and kept running out of the castle. She did not care about the looks from the others as she ran towards the staples. But she did not stop there.

Benny called after her, Sam too who stood next to him, but Y/N gave them no reaction. After she left the stable behind her, she just kept running. Up the next hill as far as her feet would take her and until the castle was no longer visible. Y/N first stopped again at a small group of trees where she could hide inside. She needed time to think and just wanted to be alone. At least for a little while.

Here, her tears could fall freely and her heart could break. Another crack breaking the smooth red surface. She just didn't know what to do anymore. Dean wasn't on her side. No, he preferred another woman. And of course she understood his anger, but it had been over two months now. He should slowly get used to it or at least try to understand her side. It wasn't easy for Y/N either.

The fact that she loved Dean didn't make it any easier. His distance and that cold shoulder hit her hard. It could be so easy, if only he saw her as more than the woman who had robbed him of his happiness. He didn't mention Helena anymore, but sometimes she had the feeling that he looked at her and saw her sister's face.

Maybe she should just walk away, pack her things and disappear. Unfortunately it wasn't that easy. She had no money of her own and there was no question of her taking Dean's money. And she couldn't and didn't want to go back to her father. She missed her clan and the life she was used to for so long, but she actually wanted to start over here with Dean. She loved him and that was the problem. Deep down, she just couldn't leave him. She was hopelessly lost.

A cool wind rushed through the branches and leaves, swirling the fabric of her dress. If only she had grabbed a coat. She found a moss-covered spot near the roots of a large tree, where she sat down and leaned her back against the trunk. She wasn't ready to go back yet.

Dean had just stared after Y/N before the anger caused him to sweep his desk empty with his arm and knock any objects onto the floor. He took a few deep breaths before took to his heels and ran after her. At the bottom of the stairs, Millie was standing exactly as he had left her before.

"Where is she?" he asked and Millie pointed a finger to the door.

"She went out."

So Dean made his way towards the entrance of his castle, but Millie hold him back.

"Dean, wait!" she lightly grabbed his arm to stop him. "Don't go after her. At least not right now."

"What?" his brows furrowed. "But I need to talk to her."

"I know her, Dean, believe me. She was so upset... give her some time to calm down. No matter what you said to her now, she would take it the wrong way."

"I... I don't like that. I should talk to her right now. There was a misunderstanding that needs to be cleared up."

And by that he meant the last sentence that slipped out of his mouth. He shouldn't have said that and he had to clarify that. But he also had to clarify other things. Y/N's words had made him think and he had realized that his behavior towards her simply wasn't fair. However, he had been staying away from her for different reasons than she probably assumed.

"What happened up there?" MIllie asked.

Just as Dean was about to tell him about the package, the door opened and Benny and Sam walked in. So the two men were also brought up to date and then Dean expressed Y/N's suspicion that it was Cassie. Sam and Benny exchanged a look that didn't go unnoticed by Dean and Millie looked down so as not to reveal that she knew about this assumption.

"What? You already knew about it?" he asked incredulously.

"Dean..." Sam started. "Cassie always wanted to marry you."

"So what? That's her motive? She knew that I was going to marry someone else."

"Yeah, but she was not happy when she heared that Y/N is not the right woman." Benny said.

"I mean... you only need to look how she behaves infront of you." Sam pointed out.

"And how she behaves towards Y/N. She makes it pretty clear that she is not happy that Y/N is here."

Well, that were news to Dean. But on the other hand, he had been gone for a while. He had never noticed that Cassie avoided Y/N like that. No matter who he saw Y/N with, they all seemed to like her now and she seemed to get along with everyone. She fit the bill really well.

"Okay. This is not happening. Not under my watch." Dean said and made his way back up the stairs. "Call everyone into the dining hall!" He had to do something.

Fifteen minutes later all the clan members were gathered around the large table, at the head of which Dean stood, the package in his hand. A murmur went through the crowd as no one could really explain what the problem was. Dean looked around and saw Jo and Alex standing with Cassie. Benny was standing near the door and Sam was across the room from him. Millie had fought her way to Jo without Cassie or Alex noticing her.

"When I came back from my business trip today, I actually had the impression that everything was fine. But then Y/N found this in our bedroom." and with a thud he dropped the package onto the table after removing the lid.

The severed cat's head almost fell out of the box, causing shocked exclamations among those present.

"This is a threat that should go to Y/N. But this threat also goes to me and I cannot and will not accept that. Y/N is now my wife and I had the impression that you all received her well But apparently I was wrong."

An incomprehensible murmur now went through the crowd, accompanied by the underlying question of who could do such a thing. Dean observed the reactions of the different people, but couldn't notice anything unusual, not even with Cassie.

"So that's how it's going to go here now." Dean raised his voice a little so that everyone would really listen to him. "Whoever did it has the opportunity to own up to it and admit it now. However, if that person doesn't speak up and I find out who it was...then God have mercy on him."

It was slowly getting dark and the temperature had dropped noticeably, but Y/N still couldn't go back. She had seen Sam and Dean riding horses across the countryside, calling out to her. She could also hear Benny, who was probably looking for her somewhere near the stables. Still, she couldn't reveal herself.

If Dean confronted her now, she would probably pour her heart out to him. She had noticed one thing in the last few hours. Her nerves were pretty thin and she wouldn't be able to handle any further rejection of her confession. She still hadn't completely calmed down. So she would now wait until the men gave up their search for the day and then sneak into Arrow's stable.

It took a few hours until Y/N felt safe enough to head back. By now it was pitch black and the cold was now creeping into her bones. Even though she was probably no longer visible, she walked slowly and deliberately. Always keeping an eye on the castle and its surroundings while she ducked again and again.

A lantern was burning in the stable and the candle wouldn't last much longer. However, it still provided enough light for Y/N to find the right box. As soon as Arrow recognized her, he whinnied happily and raised and lowered his head. She immediately tried to calm him down so that he wouldn't give her position away. However, that took a few moments.

"Oh Arrow. What am I supposed to do?"

The horse pushed Y/N's head closer to him as soon as the young woman stood in the box with him. As if he understood her words and recognized that she was struggling inside. She hugged him back, enjoying the feeling of safety and familiarity in that moment.

"That came from the stable! I think it was Arrow!"

Suddenly she heard Benny's voice, which seemed to come from the castle. But he wasn't alone.

"I'll take a look!" Alex called back, seemingly closer.

Oh no, she didn't want to be discovered yet. But after looking around and not really finding a place to hide, Y/N went to the end of the box, sat on the floor and piled the hay up above her. She tried to hide under it as best she could and just hoped she wouldn't be noticed.

Then she heard footsteps coming towards her. She could still see a little through the pile of hay above her head and at some point she saw Alex's legs and how he was walking through the stable. He stopped briefly at Arrow, spoke a few words to him and then went out again.

"She is not here. Everything looks normal." Alex stated as he seemed to walk back to the castle.

Relief flooded through Y/N ​​and she was able to release the breath she had previously been holding. Quietly and carefully, she dug herself out of the hay again. The candle in the lantern barely gave off any light now. Arrow came over and sat down next to her, resting his head on her lap. Y/N also leaned into him a little.

"Just a little longer." She whispered while petting Arrow. "I'll just stay with you a little longer and then I'll go back."

Dean paced around the bedroom. It was already the middle of the night and Y/N still hadn't returned. A bad feeling slowly began to spread within him. After all, it was his fault that it had gotten this far. He had scared her away and made her feel like running away was the only solution. His absence and the silence with which he had punished her had been too much.

And yes, he now knew that he had unconsciously punished Y/N with his behavior. He hadn't married the woman he wanted and in a way Y/N was to blame. But that wasn't really why he had acted like that. Because now he also knew that there was an even more confusing reason for him. He stopped in front of the window and looked out into the cold, dark night.

Back then he had already imagined everything in his head. What the wedding with Helena would be like, their life afterwards here in his castle. What the next five years could have been like. The first child, then the second. For a long time these had just been fantasies for him, but after he got to know Helena, he could easily imagine that the fantasies could be true. He had really had feelings for the young woman.

But then the wedding night was over and in the next morning came disillusionment. He hadn't married Helena, but Y/N. That really threw him off track. And yet there were parallels between him and his wife. That's why he took her with him. And actually he had planned to just see how it goes. It was just the way it was now.

But the journey back to the castle alone had been a challenge. As soon as Y/N sat in front of him, his penis began to stir again. Her soft, round ass against his hips, the scent that wafted from her hair into his nose, had inevitably brought back the images of their night together.

And from then on, every night had been difficult for him. Every minute he had been alone with Y/N ​​he had had to pull himself together. So often his fingers had itched to hold her in his arms or even kiss her. But he wasn't sure if she would have wanted that. After all, she had married him out of necessity and not because she wanted to.

So he went on business trips. But the distance didn't make things any better. When he lay in bed at night and let his thoughts wander, he always saw Y/N in front of him. He thought of her, of the things she had told him and of their night together. She had really caught him off guard and made him long for her. How crazy was all that?

He couldn't stay in the room any longer. With his coat in hand, he made his way back downstairs. The castle lay still and quiet, peaceful, as if nothing had happened. He opened the door and stood on the stairs, his gaze turned back to the dark landscape. His wife was out there somewhere and he was just hoping she would come back so he could talk to her and explain himself. So he could finally do it right.

"Dean?"

Slightly startled, Dean turned to the voice and recognized Ellen, who was standing in front of the kitchen with a candle in her hand and looking at him in surprise.

"What are you doing here?" she asked and came over to him.

"Y/N is still out there somewhere. She still hasn't come back." his gaze turned back.

"But she will come back eventually. She probably just needed time. After what you told me, Dean... you really made a mistake."

"I know!" he exclaimed angry at himself. "But I'm hoping it's not to late now."

Ellen didn't say anything else, but her heart ached a little for Dean. She was also worried about Y/N and hoped that she would show up again soon. She placed a warm hand on Dean's shoulder, showing him her silent support. After a few minutes, however, she broke the silence again.

"Has anyone come forward about the allegations yet?"

"No. And it looks like noone will either."

"She was really on edge last week. Whoever followed her had made her feel really uneasy."

"You also knew about it?" Dean asked surprised.

"Yes. She told me about it."

"Did she also tell you that she that she suspected Cassie?"

"No. But that does not surprise me." Dean looked at Ellen questioningly and she smiled a little. "Have you ever seen how she looks at you? She's jealous. And she's ignoring Y/N since the moment she came here. It would make sense."

With that Ellen was right, but he could hear a 'but' in her sentence. So he asked he to explain.

"when you called the meeting this afternoon and showed us what it was about, Jo overheard Cassie talking to Alex."

"And?" Dean now was eager to know.

"She wasn't as shocked as everyone else about the contents of the box, but she was probably still surprised. And then she said to Alex that she thought the act was good and that it was a shame that she hadn't thought of it herself."

"So she indirectly admitted that it wasn't her... And Jo believes her?"

"Yes. And I believe that too, by the way." now Dean looked surprised and Ellen explained her statement. "She once helped me in the kitchen and was supposed to pluck a chicken. She almost vomited. And the animal was already dead."

"So she couldn't have killed the cat." Dean mused.

"No. Not her. Unless she had an accomplice. But I believe Jo that it wasn't Cassie. My daughter has known her longer than I have."

That made sense in Dean's eyes. "But who was it then?"

"That's exactly the question, Dean. Who did it?"

Early the next morning Benny made his way to the stable. He hadn't been able to find any real peace either. So he wanted to check on Arrow. The sky slowly became brighter, making last night's frost glitter like stars. It had been the coldest night yet. He lit the lanterns and then ran the boxes. Everything seemed quiet, but when he glanced into Arrow's box, he had to do a double take.

There, right next to Arrow in the hay, lay Y/N and she was pretty pale. Benny walked straight towards her, which startled the horse, but it remained calm on the ground. Upon closer inspection, Benny saw that Y/N had sweat on her forehead and her lips were blue.

He didn't have to think about it for long. Benny lifted her out of the hay into his arms and made his way to the castle. She urgently needed to get somewhere warm and Dean needed to know about it too. He hadn't left the stable when Alex stood in front of him, looking quite frightened.

"Go call Dean. Tell him I found Y/N and that she needs help." Benny ordered, but Alex didn't seem to be able to move. "GO!"

Suddenly the young man came back to life and turned around to run back into the castle. Benny also hurried to get there while speaking quietly to the woman in his arms. He noticed how she was shaking and the cold radiating from her body worried him deeply.

He was just walking in the door when Dean appeared in front of him and took Y/N into his arms. But the two were not alone. Apparently Alex had woken up half the castle.

"Benny, ride off and bring the doctor here immediately! Don't take any detours and if he refuses, then tell him that money doesn't matter!" Dean called over his shoulder as he hurried up the stairs with Y/N.

Millie followed Dean straight up the stairs and opened the bedroom door for him when they reached the top. After they entered, Millie pulled back the covers so Dean could lay Y/N there and tuck her right back in.

"Millie, can you please get a few more blankets from the guest rooms? I'll light the fire in the meantime so that it gets warm in here."

"Of course." Milllie said and set off straight away.

After Millie disappeared from the room, Dean looked down at Y/N. Her face was so pale that her blue lips formed a shocking contrast. God, this was all his fault. Just because he once again spoke first before he could think about his words. So he did something useful and started the fire in the fireplace.

Still, it took over an hour for Benny to get back. Only he didn't have the doctor with him, but someone else. A thin man with dark skin sat on another horse. Not as dark as Cassie's skin, but different nonetheless. He wore a turban on his head.

“Doctor MacGregor wasn’t home. He was called to an emergency in Dundreggan last night. But his guest from India is also a doctor." Benny pointed to the man next to him and introduced him. "This is Mr. Gupta. He's an... ajurwedish doctor. Correct?"

"Yes." the man said with an strong accent. "And I'm here to help. If you're willing to let me."

For a moment Dean was skeptical, but then he remembered that every second counted. And so he gave the man his hand and explained the situation to him as they made their way up to Y/N. He saw the concerned and puzzled looks from some of the others they passed, but he ignored them.

Mr. Gupta examined Y/N thoroughly, explaining every step and his findings to Dean. They had already done the right thing by wrapping her up warm and heating the room well, but that wouldn't be enough.

"She is hypothermic. Her body temperature is already in the critical range. Under no circumstances should the room lose heat. At some point she will try to free herself from the blankets, but that must not happen either."

Meanwhile, Millie was back in the room and she and Dean took in all the information and agreed on care for Y/N in the next few days.

"In addition, I will prepare a decoction and a warming paste for her. If used regularly, her condition should improve in the next week. But it will take time."

But Dean didn't care. The main thing is that Y/N would feel better soon. He wouldn't lose her like this. That was out of the question.

Y/N felt weird. She felt hot and cold at the same time, her head was pounding and she was shaking. She noticed noises but couldn't identify them. In general, she didn't know whether she was dreaming or awake.

Whenever she tried to free herself from the sea of ​​blankets under which she felt buried and was sweating from the heat, Dean's face appeared above her, encouraging her to stay under the blankets.

Other times, when the cold made her shiver and she felt the blankets being pulled away, she tried to bury herself under them again. But even then Dean's face appeared, reassuring her that it wouldn't take long as he caressed her. But when he stopped, these parts of his body became really warm and drove away the cold.

And sometimes she had a terrible spicy taste in her mouth that made her thirsty. Then Millie was with her to help her drink. Or were those just dreams too? She simply couldn't tell the difference and so she always hoped that her consciousness would just slip back into the silent nothingness where she could no longer feel anything.

The next time Y/N woke up she felt different. More awake with a clearer mind. She was still cold, but she finally felt like herself again. And she realized that this wasn't a dream. She was really awake. With tired limbs, she moved slowly and moaned slightly.

"Y/N? Y/N!" She heard Dean's excited voice and searched for him with her eyes once she got used to the brightness.

"How are you? Do you need anything?" suddenly he was at her side, holding her hand.

"No, I... I'm fine. I'm just... a little tired and I'm still a little cold." She said quietly, wondering what even happened.

But it didn't take long for the memories to catch up with her again. She didn't go back the night after she escaped. She had fallen asleep at Arrow's side and had lain in the freezing stable all night. It had been her own fault.

She saw Dean take a deep breath and close his eyes briefly before speaking again. "Stay there. I'll call Millie and the doctor." and then he disappeared through the door.

Half an hour later, Dean made his way outside and walked over to Sam, who was chopping firewood. With a firm step he ran towards his brother, who looked at him worriedly after noticing him. Sam put down the axe.

"Dean? Is everything okay?"

"Yes. Yes, everything is fine." answered the older man, took the ax in his hand and began to boldly chop wood.

"Are you sure? Is something wrong with Y/N?" Sam probed.

"No." he swung the axe. "She woke up and was lucid again." again the ax thundered downwards. "She's doing much better than she has in the last few days." with the third blow the log was split.

But then Sam realized what was really going on with his brother. He had seen how the guilt had eaten away at Dean over the last few days. He had made huge accusations against himself, even if he hadn't admitted it. So Sam left him alone with the firewood, knowing that Dean would have to use it to release his pent-up emotions. But still the hope spread within him that this was finally the turning point.

An hour later, most of the firewood had been cut down and Dean was sweaty and exhausted. But he felt better. Now it was time to start all over again.

He made his way back into the castle when Mr. Gupta came out. Dean thanked him for his help and said goodbye to him with kind words. The doctor had made another decoction and prescribed Y/N two more days of bed rest in addition to a hot bath, but he was sure that she would recover completely. She just had to take it slowly and Dean would make sure of that.

When Dean came into the bedroom, it wasn't as warm as before and Y/N was still sitting in the hot tub. She was slightly startled when she saw Dean come in, but didn't say anything. That hit Dean a little, but he could also understand her behavior. After all, he was guilty of it himself and it was entirely up to him to change that.

He undressed and walked towards the tub. Y/N scooted forward to make room for him and once he was in the tub, she wanted to get out. But Dean stopped her and made her sit back down. He picked up the bar of soap that was lying on a small stool next to the tub and immediately recognized the scent. That's why Y/N always smelled so seductive.

By now the bar of soap was pretty thin and he made a mental note that he needed to bring her some again. After Dean had cleaned himself up, he leaned back in the tub and gently pulled Y/N along by the shoulders. She reacted a little stiffly at first, but quickly relaxed again and secretly enjoyed the feeling of finally being able to be so close to Dean again.

When the water slowly got cold, they got out of the tub again. Dean first so he could grab a towel for Y/N. He held it out to her openly after Y/N also had both feet on dry land and wrapped it around his shoulders. Suddenly they were so close. Body to body, face to face that Dean cleared his throat and had to take a few steps back so he didn't do anything rash.

"Dry yourself off and then go back to bed. I'll get you some real food." Dean said as he quickly got dressed and then disappeared from the room.

Later that evening, when Y/N was slowly making her way to dreamland again, Dean sat by the fire and looked over at the bed. Y/N lay there with her eyes closed, cheeks rosy, hair down and a relaxed expression on her face. And for the first time in days, Dean was able to breathe deeply.

After he had brought his wife and himself something to eat upstairs and they were sitting together, he remembered a situation that had happened in his childhood. On one of their trips when he and Sam were younger, his brother once fell into a frozen lake. Her father noticed immediately and didn't hesitate for a second to pull him out and Sam was quickly fine again.

Nevertheless, he had told Y/N about it and she seemed to just absorb his words. So he didn't stop talking. He told her about many things and she literally hung on his every word. Why hadn't he done this before? It was so easy to confide in her and even though he didn't like talking about himself in general, he felt comfortable with Y/N in doing so.

The tiredness slowly overcame him and so it didn't take long until Dean settled down in bed. Moving close to Y/N, he quickly fell asleep too.

But just a few hours later, Dean woke up with a start. He didn't know why, but his hand immediately searched the side of the bed next to him, expecting to feel Y/N. But her side was empty and already cold.

“Y/N?” he exclaimed, sitting up at the same time.

"I am here. I couldn't stay lying down anymore." She replied quietly with a smile and his eyes found her directly.

She was sitting by the fire, her hair falling over her shoulders and she had a book in her hand. But Dean couldn't take his eyes off of her. The orange glow of the flames painted her face and made her appear almost angelic. Dean's breath caught in his throat and he sank back onto the bed.

'God, she is so beautiful. Why didn't I notice this before?' he thought to himself.

After a moment he straightened up slightly and looked over at Y/N again.

“Will you please come back to bed?”

Y/N looked at him a little surprised, but then nodded. "Okay."

She put her book aside and came back to the bed. Dean had already lifted the blankets, implicitly inviting her to slide closer to him. Y/N was very happy to accept this offer. Once she was at his side, her head on his chest, he covered them both again.

"You really scared me." Dean said shortly afterwards into the comfortable silence.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." Y/N replied quietly.

Dean looked down at Y/N. "Please don't just run away again. Not until I can talk to you."

Upon those words Y/N looked up at Dean. "I won't. I promise." and she meant it, because she wouldn't be able to go through this again.

They looked deeply into each other's eyes and suddenly it was as if time stood still. Dean couldn't hold back anymore. With a hand on her cheek, he leaned down to Y/N until his lips were on hers. He kissed her carefully at first, but Y/N didn't seem to mind the kiss. And as soon as Dean felt her tongue on his lower lip, he was done for.

He deepened the kiss and turned a little more towards Y/N, who was able to put her leg on his hip. His hand moved up her thigh until it came to rest on her ass.

She buried her hands in his hair and began to slowly rub herself against him. She moaned slightly into his mouth while his hand, which was on her butt, went back to wandering. The nightdress that Y/N was wearing had slipped onto her own hips. With his thigh he opened her legs a little more so that his already stiff cock could nestle against her warm center.

Dean could already feel how wet she was and he had to hold himself together not to just push into her. But when Y/N's hand landed on his ass shortly afterwards and she pushed him closer to her, he literally slid into her. So he turned her so that she was lying on her back and sank his last few inches into her.

They both groaned and Dean wasted no time. He moved slowly but forcefully inside her. He carried out each of his thrusts with passion as he uncovered Y/N's breasts and caressed them there with his mouth. He licked her nipples and bit them tenderly, making her moans grow louder.

At some point he picked up the pace a little and licked from her breasts over her collarbone to her neck. That bittersweet pressure built up inside Y/N again and she searched with her lips for Dean's, who was only too happy to kiss her back.

He felt Y/N start to throb around his cock and began to chase his own orgasm. Y/N moved with him, holding onto his shoulders and as she jumped over the edge, he followed her just seconds later. He poured himself deep and hard into her while Y/N enjoyed the aftershocks.

They both looked deeply into each other's eyes as their pulses slowly calmed down. But neither really wanted to let go of the other. So they lay there entangled in each other and fell asleep together again.

A/N: I told you that everything would get better again. Let's just hope it stays that way. 😶 Let me know what you think. Feedback is very much appreciated! 💜

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[saiaisaiko]

Another note: "Try things out, see what you like." If you don't have any experience in the kitchen, you can start by experimenting with different recipes. When you find out you like a certain ingredient more or less or a cooking technique more or less, you can adjust the recipe and follow new recipes with that knowledge.

I.E. I love pepper and would almost always add it to a mix of vegetables to be prepared. At the same time, I discard any zucchini or eggplant I see in recipes because I can't stand them. (I also discard recipes using them as a base for the dish, unless I want to try them out again or see a way I haven't tried them. But it is not required to experiment with things you don't like.)

For baking, I would always follow a recipe as written. Too much chemistry and too little leeway with the chemical reaction working. I don't say do not try finding adjustments, but be prepared for droughts and batters to not work, if the ingredients are unbalanced or replaced with something that has not the right properties.

Following along with instructions already laid out for you can remove stress and anxiety when trying out new things. Maybe you ant to try out a new style of food, maybe a new preparation technique or even a whole new ingredient. Recipes are like a guideline and friend in that regard and not your enemy when cooking from scratch.

But I have to agree with the above, take the time to wash your vegetables and fruit. Prevent cross-contamination, only handle food with clean hands, and a separate thing from me, clean up while you cook. it can be downright overwhelming when the dishes pile up on you.

A tip for those not able to dedicate a separate cutting board for vegetables and meat. (Like me: I only have one cutting board at my home and my parents wouldn't keep the habit anyway) First, prepare the vegetables and fruits, wash the board in between if you don't want the juices to influence the taste of each other. Then prepare your meat. It serves the purpose of keeping things clean and preventing salmonella or something like that to get from the meat to the vegetables and you have your ingredients already prepared and can concentrate on adding them to the dish as needed.

A lot is habit and experience. You'll need less time and maybe even less advanced preparation for your cooking with experience and also the risks of certain foods. All those pieces of advice are with the thought you're buying your groceries in the store and don't do something like going foraging or farming. Though it is never a problem to just wash your raw ingredients and food with water to add a certain layer of safety to them.

Adding: Keep track of your allergies and sensitivities. And how your digestive system reacts to certain things. When I'm stressed I tend to horribly upset it in a very painful way. Always. And it only grows when I eat greasy foods. It can feel as if I poisoned myself, but I did not.

Cooking question I'm too embarrassed to ask someone IRL: how easy or hard is it to accidentally poison yourself?

I know not to eat things that are too old (past the best-by date, changed color etc), I know not to eat things that were burned. I know to be careful about handling raw meat. I know how to store leftovers. I know to pay attention to instructions on the package and to check if the package is damaged etc.

But at the same time... well, a lot of cooking advice I've seen over the years includes some variation of "try things out, see what you like!" and I'd kind of like to do that. But if the results turn out inedible, I'd like them to be "inedible" as in "tastes very bad" and not "inedible" as in "going to upset your stomach" or "send you to the hospital"

If I try to cook/bake/roast/fry/whatever a food that can be eaten raw, like fruit, what are the odds that the result will be safe to eat?

What about lettuce? I'm aware it would probably taste bad, but would it be safe to try?

If I mix random liquid-y things from my pantry to make a sauce for whatever vegetables&meat I'm frying, what are the odds the result would be safe to eat? (Assuming all the components are edible by themself, I'm NOT talking about cleaning solutions or dish soap or whatever)

What might be some questions I don't even know I should check?

If I try to cook/bake/roast/fry/whatever a food that can be eaten raw, like fruit, what are the odds that the result will be safe to eat? If I mix random liquid-y things from my pantry to make a sauce for whatever vegetables&meat I'm frying, what are the odds the result would be safe to eat?

100% safe. There is a ZERO (0%) percent chance of accidentally creating a poison when cooking a safe-to-eat-raw food item.

You're not going to accidentally create a poison when you mix spices, sauces, or various edible ingredients together.

It's just not how chemistry works. With no exception I can think of, you can't take one safe-to-eat plant or animal and cook it or mix it with another in a way that will create a toxic substance.

Cooking lettuce to eat is safe. Cooking whole fruit is safe. Mixing a hundred sauces together is safe. Go for it.

I could take a sample of every single individually edible item in my fridge, pantry, and spice cabinet, blend it all into a big slurry, cook it & eat a portion of that concoction with confidence that I won't die from it. While it may be gross and taste bad, it won't actually harm me. It won't be a poison, no matter how many different types of food ingredients are tossed into the pot.

I cannot guarantee that you will never upset your stomach, because you could be sensitive to or allergic to an ingredient that I don't know about. It's not a poison to all humans, but it'd be uncomfortable to you. You can only learn about that through experience.

What CAN be dangerous:

Improper sterilization and improper technique can accidentally leave poison-producing bacteria or mold to breed when canning or fermenting foods.

Eating large amounts of a couple specific foods can be risky. There's not a lot of these, so here's a list of the big names to keep an eye on:

Cassia (common) cinnamon has a chemical that is toxic in larger quantities, but harmless in small quantities. If you eat 2 teaspoons a day, every day, you'll run into trouble. If you use Ceylon cinnamon instead, you can eat pretty much as much as you want.

Don't eat a whole nutmeg. It's wonderful when used sparingly, but can be poisonous in large amounts. Same rule as Cassia cinnamon: 2 teaspoons a day, every day, will get you into trouble. Eat less or less often.

Eating too much Liver (the organ) can cause copper toxicity and Vitamin A toxicity. It's great for you when added to a meal once a week, or a couple times a month, but shouldn't be eaten daily or in huge amounts.

Don't swallow cherry pits. They're generally harmless when swallowed whole, because they pass through digestion unscathed, but if they're crushed or cracked open first they release a compound that turns into cyanide when digested. Our body handles cyanide pretty well, but 4-5 cracked pits can become harmful. So: Don't chew them, and don't swallow them on purpose.

There are some foods which need special preparation to be made safe. They're safe COOKED, but not RAW.

Cooked beans & legumes are safe to eat. But if you're starting from a totally DRY bean or lentil (canned are pre-cooked) make sure to soak them in water for several hours and boil until they're FULLY COOKED before you eat. (Fully cooked is when you can crush them easily with a fork, with no gritty or hard center) Undercooked or uncooked beans & legumes can fuck up your guts real good. Very painful, horribly unpleasant, but probably won't kill you.

Cassava (the root vegetable that tapioca is made from) MUST be thoroughly cooked before eating. Raw cassava can be toxic. It's another cyanide bro.

Don't eat raw potatoes - always cook them. If your potatoes have sprouted, don't eat the sprouts & peel any green skin off. Tbh tho, an adult would need to eat at least a pound of green potatoes to get sick. Be reasonably cautious about it. Don't feed green potatoes to small children.

--

Note: This advice is intended for someone who shops at a grocery for their food, not someone who is foraging for ingredients or is growing their own. There's a lot more opportunities to poison yourself when working with whole plants in the wild, and not the prepared-for-sale ones at a store.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just the Two of Us: Feverish

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: Steve stops by unexpectedly.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your phone shakes beside you on the futon. You grumble and roll over, the motion making your head pound even worse. You snort back phlegm and check the screen as you go to mute the call. It’s Steve. You hesitate long enough for the call to time out. 

Before you can put the phone down, it rings again. You cough, it’s like razors in your throat, and you swallow tightly. You drag your thumb over the screen. 

“Hi,” you force out hoarsely. 

“Hey, you missed my call,” he greets. 

“Sorry, I was...” you stifle a cough and take as deep breath as you can. “Steve...” 

“What’s going on?” You hear the suspicion is his voice. 

“Noth--nothing,” your chest aches horribly with each breath. 

“You sound horrible. Not to be mean, but yikes,” he says. “You at home.” 

“Mm,” you hum crisply. You don’t have the energy to do much more. 

“Starry?” He says gravely, “are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Yeah, I--” you hack uncontrollably before you can start the sentence. Your ribs rattle and your head throbs. You clutch your phone tight and whimper as each cough shreds your throat. “I’m laying down.” 

“I’m on my way,” he says. 

“What, no--” again, you can’t argue as your body quakes in the storm of coughs. You push away the blankets as sweat slakes on your skin. You’re hot and cold at the same time. “Steve.” 

“Just relax, won’t take me long,” he insists. “See you soon.” 

The line clicks. He’s gone. Great. You told him not to worry when he left the day before. It’s not his problem. 

You stay on your side, staring at your phone screen. You close your eyes as your skull pulses and shiver despite the heat radiating over your skin. Everything is hazy and distorted. You just need to sweat it out, let it pass, you’ll be okay. 

The buzzer roars through the apartment. You groan and plant one hand, pushing yourself up halfway before you fall back. You can’t even get up. It buzzes again and you lay helpless as you are. Maybe he’ll get the hint and go away. 

There’s a hammering on the door. How did he get up there? You try again to get yourself off the futon. No use. You hear a grinding and click and the door opens. 

“Steve,” you gasp as you lift your head, “what--” 

You choke on the coughs as they fill your chest with lead. He hurries towards you. He tucks something into his pocket as he lowers himself onto the edge of the mattress. 

“I told you, you were getting sick,” he says. 

“No,” you babble dumbly. 

He sighs and touches your head, “Jeez, you’re burning up,” he turns his hand and puts his knuckles lightly against your cheek. Your eyes widen and you stare up at him. He’s gentle but the reminder of another set of knuckles flashes in your mind. “You got a fever.” 

He shifts and bends over you. He puts his ear to your chest as you let out ragged breaths. He tuts and sits up. He shakes his hand as he stands and looks around. 

“You have pneumonia. I can hear it,” he says. 

“No, how could you...” your voice peters out into nothing. He’s probably right and you’re too weak to question him. 

“I’ll... I’ll get you to my place.” 

“Steve...” you rasp. 

“You can’t stay here. Not with the heat off half the day,” he searches around the single room. “I’ll just grab some of your things.” 

You surrender to the moment. You can’t stop him and you know enough about him to know he won’t stop. You close your eyes and hug yourself as another tide of coldness flows through you. Your teeth chatter and you reach to pull the blanket to your shoulders. 

He comes back in and you listen to his footsteps. You can barely tell if he’s close or not. Your ears feel cloudy. It isn’t until his arms slip beneath you that you realise he’s right there. He lifts you easily off the couch and your head swims as you open your eyes. 

“Steve,” you croak. 

“Don’t argue,” he says as he heads for the door. “You know I can’t leave you here.” 

You whine and lean into his warmth. Your body feels tiny against him. You shrink further as another bought of hacking takes over. You swallow more phlegm and wheeze, “I know.” 

⭐

Steve lays you on something plush. The journey has been bumpy, at times, indiscernible. You feel yourself getting worse. You also feel how helpless you are to stop it. He props you up against some pillows and keeps the blankets folded back at your waist. 

“You gotta sweat out that fever but you can’t overheat yourself,” he says. “And you need to stay sitting up. You don’t want your lungs filling up.” 

“Huh? How do you... know?” You sniffle. 

“I used to get pneumonia every other week,” he scoffs. “Trust me.” He moves around the room. “I’ll bring some tissue. You don’t wanna keep swallowing that mess, you gotta get it out.” 

“Steve...” 

“I got a friend, he can prescribe you antibiotics,” he explains. “Didn’t have those until the thirties.” 

“Oh,” you garble senseless as your eye threaten to roll back. You’re just so tired. 

“Remember, stay sitting up,” he points at you then marches from the room. 

You wait and he returns with a glass of water and box of tissues. He puts the latter on the night table and sits to offer you the former. You don’t move. He puts the cold brim to your lips. 

“You have to stay hydrated, alright?” 

You gulp down the water, it’s soothing but chilling. You drain half of it, choking it down, before he finally relents. He sets the glass down and your head slumps forward. He gently cradles your chin and leans you back on the pillows. 

Your eyes skim the room dozily. It’s nice. Bright. The walls are a soft shade of blue and the bed is large and cushy. The blankets are warm and rich. It’s all so much nicer than your place. 

“You should rest,” he says. “I’ll stick around and keep an eye on you,” he slowly stands. “Can’t be too careful. We don’t know how bad it is. The antibiotics will help.” 

You don’t reply. You can’t. You’re content to do absolutely nothing. 

He goes to the desk and pulls out the leather chair. He sits and stares at you, an elbow on the wood surface beside him. You close your eyes and exhale, setting off another scatter of agonizing coughs. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” he says. “I won’t let you go, Starry.” 

His voice fades away. Everything is on fire; your ears, your scalp, your insides. You feel yourself burning up as the flames boil in your head, searing through the world around. 

[planetpedri]

Ur so pretty — Jamal Musiala.

Pairing: Jamal Musiala x Fem!Reader

Summary: Jamal was your first love and with that came the fear of abandonment. But, Jamal was here to stay and he made sure you knew that.

Word count: 890+

Disclaimer/s: light angst , comfort , and mostly fluff !

A/N: this is my literal wife like im in love w him also listened to a lot of ‘ur so pretty’ by waisa project when i was writing this so. yeah.

When you and Jamal met for the first time, you were accompanying your friend on a double date. You weren’t looking for love or anything close to that but your friend was nervous and needed the comfort of your presence.

The problem lied in the fact that you had never dated before. Sure, you’d been on dates, but nothing had ever surpassed that singular date.

Jamal had swept you off your feet—literally. He wasn’t looking where he was going and tripped you. You’d nearly fallen on your face when he caught you, arms wrapping around your waist so he could hoist you back up.

The moment your eyes met you felt an unfamiliar warmth gather in the pit of your stomach, nerves rattling your body. He made you nervous in a weird way you’d never felt before.

It had taken two weeks for him to contact you again, and you were waiting.

Now, six and a half months later, you were dating—had been for four months now.

Sitting on the couch in his living room, you patiently waited for him to get home. He was training late today, so you’d opted for making dinner and sticking it in the fridge for him to heat up when he got home. The TV played a show you recently started; ‘Scandal’, which you were so engrossed in you didn’t realize Jamal had arrived.

He stood in the entry way, watching you curiously with a grin. He liked to watch you when you weren’t aware of him—not in a creepy way, he just loved to see you when you weren’t conscious of people and relaxed.

He’d been standing there for too long so he knew the second he spoke you’d spook. So instead he slips back out the door as quietly as possible, opening it and calling out for you, “i’m home!”

You turned around with a wide smile, grabbing the remote and turning off the TV. “Hey! Hi, how was practice? Dinner is in the fridge!”

“Practice was fine, exhausted though. What’d you make?” Jamal asks, wondering into the kitchen where you meet him. He pulls you into a hug, pressing his lips to yours.

Smiling into the kiss, you mumble, “some healthy crap, your dietician would be very pleased with it.”

Jamal pulls away with a breathy laugh, “you can just make something we both like, i’ll just hit the gym extra hard later on.”

You shake your head. “Oh, no. I already made my own delicious food. That healthy stuff, that is only for you.”

Moving to the fridge you open it, taking out the food, and placing it on the counter. “You may heat it up while I make myself a smoothie.”

Jamal’s arms wrap around your waist, your back pressing against his as he places a few kisses on your shoulder. One thing about your boyfriend was that he was very affectionate. He hadn’t always been so touchy, but he made more of an effort when he learned about your doubts in your relationship.

Although those concerns had dwindled, he hadn’t strayed an inch. He comforted you with everything, he said the sweetest things. Essentially, he went above and beyond to prove that what he felt for you was not going away and time soon—if ever.

“Go make your food.” You giggle, wiggling out of his grasp. “I need my smoothie.”

“You and your smoothies.” Your boyfriend tittered. “Is it Strawberry or—“ You give him a look that has his lips twitching, “right. Why do I even bother asking.”

Reaching for strawberries in the freezer, you smirk. “Exactly. Have I ever told you how much I love and adore your full fridge and freezer? You always have everything.”

“Yeah, well, I try.”

As the microwave hums while heating up Jamal’s food, you prepare to make your smoothie. Conversations flow between the two of you even as he eats and the whirring of the blender—which you stop every few moments to add to the conversation.

“How’s your show? By the way?”

Your face lightens up, “so good. I’m on season two right now. When I finish the whole show, i’m forcing you to watch it.” Your finger points in his direction with a teasing tip of your lip.

Jamal’s eyebrows raise, “oh? Well, anything for you.” His words brings a prideful smile to your face.

“And this is why I love you!” You quip, your smug look falling the second you comprehend what you said. Too early. Too—

Jamal’s expression doesn’t miss a beat, his eyes flicker up to you. “I love you, too.”

Oh! Thats a comfort. Sort of?

“Was that too early? I should’ve waited.” You swallow thickly. You watch as he slips off the stool he was sitting on, wiping his hands on his pants, and walks around the counter to reach your side.

“It’s perfect timing, actually.” He assures, his hands cupping your jaw to pull you into a loving kiss. “I. Love. You.” He mumbles each time he pulled away.

A dreamy sigh leaves your lips, “you are so fortunately—for me, perfect.”

The taller man smiles, “and i’m so fortunately, your boyfriend.” Your heart grows three sizes as you meet his eyes. Any lingering doubt or insecurity you held about the future of your relationship died with that kiss and his words.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any of my future posts.

ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @ar4ujos @sakashq @joaoflms @hrts4havertz @spidybaby

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Can you do a smut with a hand kink.. please. I'd die.

Handle with care

A/N: In which Little Mouse discovers she has a thing for Elvis' hands...

Pairing: little mouse x Elvis

Word count: 1.9K

TWs: Fingering, borderline fisting (not quite), lots of fingers in mouth/sucking/licking, a tiny bit of struggling to breathe, blow job, bit of voyeurism, watching a dirty movie.

You and Elvis are fooling around in the TV room, kissing and cuddling, when he remembers the film he’d made of the two of you and that pretty little thing Jerry had found for you to play with. It was a little while ago now that he’d watched you and her kiss and undress one another, and taught you how to please a woman just like he taught you how to please him, and it seems like just the time to refresh his memory. And yours. 

“Baby,” he coos, pulling away from the passionate kiss he’d been right in the middle of. 

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Ya wanna watch that movie we made? With Jessica?”

Your eyes grow wide. You hadn’t forgotten about it, exactly, but you had sort of pushed it out of your mind. You’d really enjoyed Jessica, but you’re not sure if you want to watch yourself enjoying her. 

“Mmmm,” you squeak, uncomfortably. 

He frowns. “What’s that lil squeak for, Mouse?”

You bite your lip. You know this is his fantasy, and you don’t want to spoil it. But still. 

“I jus’... hmmm. I have to watch myself?”

“Ya look gorgeous, baby. In that pink nightie I got ya. C’mon. Daddy wants to watch ya eat that pretty little girl again.”

You sigh softly. You don't want to look at your own face on a big screen, no matter how dolled up it might be, but you’re not sure this is an argument you’re going to win. There aren’t many arguments with Elvis that you have even a chance of winning, so you’ve learnt when to concede. It’s easier this way. 

“Okay.”

He kisses you on the forehead. “That’s my good girl. I’ll get it set up.”

Of course he doesn’t actually get it set up. It involves fiddling with a projector and a film, so he ends up getting Jerry in to sort it out, resulting in a lot of blushing for both you and Jerry, but somehow none for Elvis. Eventually it’s all sorted and Jerry bows out of the room as gracefully as he possibly can, closing the door behind him and heading to the other end of the house. Best to try and avoid hearing the noises he knows are coming. He thinks you’re very sweet and part of him doesn’t like to think of you like this. Another part of him likes it a lot, and that might be an even worse problem. 

The film starts, and you see yourself in the pink nightie with your hair all curled and your make-up done in that over the top way Elvis likes, and you cringe. This is even worse than you anticipated. You don’t mind watching yourself kiss Jessica when she’s taking up most of the frame, but right now you seem to be centre-stage. Then you see Elvis’ hand, taking yours and moving it onto Jessica’s breast. You remember how his hand felt, firm but gentle, guiding you where he wanted you. You can hear his soft low voice purring instructions into your ear “that’s it baby, jus’ give it a little squeeze. Good girl.” and it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. But the more you watch the film, the more you’re drawn to his hands. To begin with, you just look at them to avoid looking at yourself so much. But then you find yourself really studying them, how long and slender his fingers are, how dexterously they move, how his rings glitter. And then you start to think about them touching you, just as his arm wraps around your shoulders and a hand squeezes your upper arm. There’s a tingling between your legs that intensifies as his other hand starts to make its way up your thigh, under your skirt. You hear your breathing get heavier, you’re almost panting with anticipation, thinking of those long fingers touching you, sliding inside you, curling and hitting that spot. 

He watches the movie with half an eye on your reaction to it. You didn’t seem like you were enjoying it too much to begin with, but now as his fingers reach your panties and press against them he realises you’re as turned on as he is. He loves watching you with another girl, seeing you unsure and then gaining your confidence, watching the pleasure on your face as she licks between your legs and the pleasure on hers as you eat her like pussy is going out of fashion. He hooks your panties to one side and rubs a finger against you. 

“Mmmm. Daddy.” It comes out almost against your will, and you give him a sidelong glance. 

He bites his lip. “Enjoyin’ yourself, little mouse?”

You nod quickly, spreading your legs wide for him. He slides a finger inside you and is surprised by your reaction. Head thrown back, hips bucking, whimpers falling from your lips. You don’t usually react this much to just a finger. He looks up to the screen and sees Jessica’s face, flushed with arousal, taking up most of the screen. It must be her. He feels a twinge of jealousy and tries to push it down. He wanted to watch this, and he’s enjoying it. It’s fine that you’re enjoying it too. It’s more than fine. It’s great. He slides another finger in after the first and you moan, your eyes fixed on the screen. He tears his gaze away from your face to look at the screen too, seeing your head between the other girl’s legs as she moans and writhes. He pumps his fingers in and out of you a few more times, but his dick is getting uncomfortably hard and he wants to fuck you now. Make you forget the girl on the screen and just think about him. 

You’re staring at the way his hands are gripping Jessica’s legs, pulling them apart for you, when you feel him start to slide his fingers out. You instinctively grab his forearm to stop him and he looks at you inquisitively. 

“Don’t stop,” you whisper, fingers wrapping tightly around his arm now.

“Whaddya want, Mouse?” He asks, still uncomprehending. 

“Your fingers, Daddy,” you moan. 

He’s a little taken aback by your admission, but if that’s what you want that’s what he’ll give you. He helps you rearrange yourself on the sofa so you’re lying down properly, and pulls your panties off too. 

“How many fingers, Mouse?” He asks, his breath hot on your ear as he leans over you, two long digits sliding back inside. 

You squeak, momentarily struck dumb by the question, caught in the intensity of his gaze. “However many fit, Daddy,” you finally manage to whisper. 

Elvis’ dick presses even more determinedly against the fabric of his pants. He’s never heard you be this damn dirty before, and it’s really really turning him on. 

“Let’s see, shall we?” 

He pushes in a third finger to join the first two, slowly pumping them together until he feels you start to relax. Watching the look on your face, the way you flush with pleasure, the gentle undulation of your body as you react to his fingers rubbing inside you, he has an idea. He has two hands and you have a very obliging mouth. Leaning a little so his weight is more on his knees, he pushes the index finger of his other hand past your unresisting lips. Watching as your eyes grow wide, he feels your tongue swirl around it. Increasing the pace with his other hand, he slides another two fingers into your mouth. Your pussy is nice and wet and relaxed now, and he can feel it pulling his fingers further inside. 

“One more finger, little one?”

You nod quickly and he adds a finger to your pussy and your mouth. Spit runs down your chin as you moan and struggle slightly to breathe through your nose.  

Elvis is starting to think he might cum just from watching this, seeing you so wanton and dirty. It’s a struggle to get the fourth finger in to begin with, but he’s patient and he keeps gently thrusting those four fingers in and out of your pussy and gradually they go in further and further until he’s in up to his knuckles, only his thumb on the outside now. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and shuffles up on the sofa so he’s kneeling next to your head. He can’t just watch you like this and not have you touch him. 

“Open up, baby.”

You open your mouth obediently and his dick slides in where his fingers had been. He groans, trying hard to continue to concentrate on fingering you now your mouth is all around him. Sitting up so you can stroke him into your mouth, the change in position means he’s suddenly hitting exactly where you want him to as he shoves his hand inside you over and over again. You know you're going to cum, and seconds later you’ve let go of his dick and fallen back onto the sofa, pleasure rushing through your body as a powerful orgasm hits you. 

“Ohhhh fuck.”

He loves watching you cum, and this is no exception. He rubs his fingers against your walls a few more times, coaxing you through your high, and then when he’s sure you’re done he removes his hand, briefly looking at the way it's covered in your juices before returning to his own pleasure. Your eyes are closed in bliss, but he pushes his dick back into your mouth anyway, one hand underneath your head to help you as he starts to pump himself with the other. Groaning, he feels his release heavy in his balls.

“Ready for me, baby?” He growls. 

You squeak and nod your head as best you can, your eyes open again now as you try to take a little more of him. He pumps his hand faster and faster until he’s moaning and cumming down your throat, making your eyes water as he thrusts a little too enthusiastically. You swirl your tongue around him until he pulls out and falls down next to you, holding out his other hand to your lips. 

“Here. Lick ‘em clean for me honey, since you like ‘em so much.”

You take his hand in both of yours and gently slip one finger into your mouth at a time, licking them clean slowly and carefully, your big eyes looking over at him as you do it. God, you really do love everything about his hands right now. 

“Good girl,” he hums. 

You let the final finger out of your mouth with a pop and then smile at him. “Thank you, Daddy.”

He strokes your cheek. “Thank you, little mouse.” He settles down next to you, the movie still playing in the background. You’re both quiet for a while, enjoying the warm fuzzy feeling after your orgasms. Then he wonders something. 

“Hey, what made ya suddenly like my hands so much?”

You giggle shyly. “They were the only things I liked looking at in the movie,” you tell him, taking a hand in both of yours again and stroking the back of it.

“Is that so?” 

“Mmm. Just wanted to look at you.” You look over at him through your lashes, still stroking his hand. 

He smiles and kisses you gently. “I only wanna look at you too, you pretty little thing.”

***

Taglist:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas

[kurogane2512]

Hello there~

This is my first time putting a request here since I started reading your reader fics (Himeko, Kafka, and Jade's. Love them all btw)

So, I was thinking of a fluff SFW sick fic with Jade. The scenario could be Jade returning to her office from a meeting only to find female reader unconscious with a fever. Jade blames herself for being inattentive and takes care of her precious assistant, regardless of female reader's insistence that Jade shouldn't fret over her especially since she's so busy

When you have time, no rush. And thanks in advance if you decide to take this request :3

This hit a bit too close to heart rn cause I'm sick and really wish to have someone like Jade pampering me 🥲

Game: Honkai Star Rail

Characters: Jade x fem!reader

Type: SFW, Fluff (Jade taking care of sick reader)

Jade tapped the top of her cane as the meeting dragged out. She was seated in a rather leisurely manner with one leg over the other and her head resting on her palm that was perched up on the armrest. With one glance anyone could tell she was uninterested and bored, it was no surprise considering the resolution was in IPC's favour and she no longer needed to contribute. She stayed only for Aventurine and Topaz, to ensure they faced no problems in one of their first ever joint projects.

The meeting finally ended after 5 mins and Jade let out a sigh as she adjusted her hat and stood up with others. Topaz came up to thank her and apologize for making her stay, to which Jade replied with a simple smile that it was her duty. She then made her way out of the meeting room and expected to see her secretary to know the next appointment in her schedule but was surprised that nobody was there.

"Hmm, strange.... Y/n is never late in such things. Perhaps I'll try calling her."

Jade pondered and took out her phone to dial yours but was met with no reply as you didn't pick up the call. She knew this was highly unusual as you'd never ignore your work, much less her.

"I suppose I should find out what's wrong."

She decided to come back to her office thinking you'd likely be there and as she expected, you were indeed there but to her surprise, you were lying unconscious on the couch. Jade furrowed her brows and quickly came towards you then kept her palm on your forehead and noticed your heavy breathing, quickly realising you were having a fever. The feeling of her touch made you open your eyes and in your blurred vision, you saw your boss kneeled beside you and staring at you.

"M-Ms Jade....? You are already back? Oh, wait.... I was supposed to....c-come to you.... I'm sorry I wasted....y-your time..."

You spoke in broken sentences as you struggled to sit up and compose yourself. Your nose was blocked and it was hard to breathe, accompanied by the throbbing pain in your head. You groggily looked around to find your tablet lying on the other side of the couch and were about to reach out to it when Jade held your shoulders and stopped you.

"Shh shh, what is this I'm seeing here? Why did you not tell me you were unwell?" She questioned while her gaze scanned you up and down and her hand cupped your face tenderly.

"N-No, I'm fine. This is just a cold, it'll go away....I can work, d-don't worry..."

Jade's eyes squinted and her hand slid down to your chest before grabbing your tie knot and proceeding to unfasten it.

"You should know that being sick leads to less productivity and we don't tolerate that. It is rather better to take a day off and assign your work to someone capable than drag yourself in an unorderly state."

She loosened your tie sufficiently then opened your collar button, the feeling immediately making you take a deep breath as you were no longer confined.

"I...s-sorry, I'll do better next time...But t-today I assure you I can manage...."

Jade let out a sigh and caressed your face once again, her soft touch sending shivers down your body.

"I can't have a sick secretary following me around, and I'm not cruel to make you work when you are clearly not in the right condition. I'll forgive you for today, not much time is left so you can leave early and I won't reflect it in your leaves."

You felt guilty making your boss do this but you knew it was better to listen. You accepted her suggestion and she smiled then stepped away to give you space, you tried gathering your things and standing up but were feeling dizzy which made your steps fumble and you were about to fall down when Jade caught you and made you fall on her body instead. Your head got cushioned by her soft breasts and her arms securely wrapped around you, one hand caressing your head as she cood.

"Careful now, darling. Seems you need some rest before leaving, and here you were saying you can still work, hm?~" Jade teased with a smirk, looking down at your rather adorable state with the way you were hugging her.

"I-I'm so sorry, ma'am! I-I...!" you were embarrassed out of your mind and tried to stand up but had no energy in your body to even pull away, not to mention that Jade's hold around you felt really comforting. You heard her chuckle in her sultry voice before leaning down to kiss your forehead, your face turning redder than it already was.

"I suppose I'll indulge you for a bit, you do deserve some reward for all your hard work~"

You wanted to protest but no words came out and you let her do as she pleased. She made you sit on the couch again then dialled up the medics on her phone who came within 5 minutes and checked you up then handed some medicines. Jade fetched you some water and made you take the medicines then sat beside you and suddenly pulled your head on her lap, making you lie down. She then placed a cold pack on your forehead and the cooling sensation made you instantly relax, until you looked up to see her beautiful face smiling at you and felt your heart skip a beat.

This kind of treatment was foreign to you, you had been by yourself for a long time that you had forgotten how it felt to be taken care of by someone else- especially when it was someone as reputed as one of the Ten Stonehearts. You didn't know Jade could be so caring, you were forever grateful to her for giving you this job and letting you live but you didn't think she was this way, it almost felt motherly. Her hand patted through your hair and made you relax on her lap, your eyes dropping close as you drifted to sleep.

"T-Thank you, ma'am...." You mumbled before falling asleep, making Jade chuckle softly and lean down to kiss your forehead once again.

"Rest up now, you have done enough. Leave everything to me~"

[tossawary]

While I do think that Wangxian would still be obsessed with each other in a Human/Cybertronian pairing, whichever one of them is the robot, I keep leaning towards Wen Ning being the robot in a "Transformers" AU for MDZS. I think it really fits the "I rebuilt you into an abomination" angle for the Ningxian situationship.

Also, I keep making myself laugh by thinking about bitchy-faced Lan Wangji sitting awkwardly in Wen Ning's passenger seat, because Wen Ning passive-aggressively won't let LWJ sit in the driver's seat even if Wei Wuxian isn't in the car. 

Which led me to thinking about the worldbuilding and plotting of a MDZS TF AU in which only the Wens are Cybertronians. (For the Sunshot-Era characters, at least.) Young WWX and LWJ are roughly the equivalent of human characters like G1's Spike, Carly, and/or Chip. (Though it would also be fun to do a different AU where WWX and/or LWJ are transforming giant robots, of course.)

In my mind, this story would take place in a modern-ish sci-fi setting. Start close to a Bayverse-like setting (live-action TF movies), but quickly morph into a "Pacific Rim"-style mecha setting (humans building mechs to fight monsters, not necessarily with a "Drift" co-piloting setup) as the equivalent of the Sunshot Campaign war starts and continues, before ultimately the setting becomes more of a retro-futuristic space opera like the original 1986 TF movie and the third season of G1 (the original TF cartoon). 

So, Wei Wuxian is a teenage genius at some prestigious robotics university/college, which does important research on a handful of alien artifacts. Lan Wangji also goes to this school and teenage Wangxian have the usual interpersonal conflict between them. 

Alien robots have been visiting Earth with increasing frequency over the past few decades, usually flying in and out without doing much, sometimes causing some destruction, so they're somewhat known, but a lot of people still think it's an elaborate hoax of some kind. The recovered pieces of these alien robots have provided a technological boost to humanity, which has caused some serious problems all over the world, but mundane life goes on for many people even if mech programs are apparently a real thing now. 

(Wei Wuxian's parents (who were humans) had dealings with Cybertronians. He does not initially know this.) 

The Cloud Recesses school possesses some very important alien artifact that serves as our story's MacGuffin. I'm thinking that it's either the Allspark or the Matrix of Leadership. Whatever it is, it's been dormant and useless for a very long time... basically a rock... until Wei Wuxian manages to build technology that actually manages to interface with the MacGuffin. No one else has ever managed this before. He can make it do stuff. 

Unfortunately, in achieving this, he accidentally sends out the equivalent of a signal to all Cybertronians pretty much everywhere saying: "YO! Earth has got your stuff! The MacGuffin you've been searching for for a million years is over here! Come and get it!" 

So, the school gets attacked by a group of Cybertronians, probably led by Cybertronian Wen Chao. The school possesses enough technology for some of the more daring and reckless students (Wei Wuxian) to fight back a little, using a combination of smarts and highly volatile projects, until some mech pilots arrive to chase them off. Wei Wuxian manages to knock one of the transformers down, but he doesn't take the killing shot, because the transformer looks scared, and Wei Wuxian also saw this transformer trying to step carefully around the humans. The transformer retreats with the other Cybertronians. 

Insert some plot and character stuff here. Then, in the next action-y sequence when Wei Wuxian gets attacked by Cybertronians again, he's saved when a car pulls up in front of him (it looks like either LWJ or Jiang Cheng's fancy car) and flings open a door for him to jump inside. It's only as they're driving away that Wei Wuxian realizes that no one else is in the car. 

Wei Wuxian: "...You're a Cybertronian, right? Was this a bad idea? Did I fuck up?" 

Cybertronian Wen Ning (the transformer whom Wei Wuxian didn't kill earlier): "Yeah, kind of. I'm surprised that you just went along with that? I'm kidnapping you. Sorry." 

In this universe, the Wens are essentially the Decepticons, but if the Decepticons had basically already won the war. There are some remaining Autobots out there, Wen Ning actually has a few Autobot ties, but the Autobots are largely scattered. Wen Ning and Wen Qing are both Decepticons here to get the MacGuffin (Allspark or Matrix), so that Decepticon victory will be complete, and Earth will probably be destroyed or conquered in the process. 

Well, they were here to do that. Wen Ning isn't really feeling that plan so much. He feels bad for the humans. And he thinks Wei Wuxian is really cool! He's never seen anyone that small and squishy humiliate Wen Chao that badly! Wow. 

Wen Ning doesn't like Lan Wangji so much, however, which is mutual. Currently, I'm thinking about this with polyamory vibes. Wei Wuxian would love to have car sex with Lan Wangji in Wen Ning's back seat, but he's not looking directly at that thought because he's pretty sure that LWJ hates him, and he refuses to reflect at all on why he wants this fantasy to be happening inside Wen Ning specifically. WWX is too busy dealing with a robot war to face being gay, much less being gay(?) for a giant robot as well, he doesn't have the time to learn what polyamory is yet! 

Insert series of events here that ultimately lead to a Humans versus Decepticons war, where the humans have mechs and a growing force of New Autobot allies, but the struggle against these lethal transforming robot soldiers is still grueling. 

The great sects in this AU are all giant tech and/or weapons companies of various types. Which is, you know, morally not great, probably, but this is what these kids have grown up with. They're feeling additional pressure to "do their duty" to protect Earth. The Nie family are heavily involved in some mech program that's been running for a few generations now and has some disastrous health effects, but is not going to stop Nie Mingjue from piloting Baxia until it kills him. Jiang Yanli is already married to Jin Zixuan, son of the CEO of the Jin Corporation, which will play its usual role of "shadowy, greedy company" this time with cyberpunk-esque aesthetics. 

I'm not sure what the Jiangs do, but I'm learning towards something to do with space. Jiang Cheng could be in business school, or doing some form of military service, or participating in some astronaut program (still not good enough for his mother), in preparation to take over the family company someday. His life plan gets completely wrecked by giant robots. Specifically, when the giant robots destroy most of the company's buildings and factories, early on in the war, and then his parents also get killed. The insurance alone is a fucking nightmare to deal with. 

In this AU, the only person whom young man Jiang Cheng has ever experienced any kind of attraction towards is a 20ft+ robot "woman" (Wen Qing) who is allegedly a doctor and can turn her arms into buzzsaws (see Knockout from TFP). No, he doesn't want to talk about these feelings. You could physically force JC's ass into therapy and he'd still never talk. 

Anyway, everyone is having a really bad time in this war! Wei Wuxian grows out of his teenage years desperately pulling useful information out of the MacGuffin (Allspark or Matrix) and developing new technology to fight back. Work sucks. War sucks. The state of his family is a tragedy. His relationship status with now coworker Lan Wangji is a solid: "???" Every day, New Autobots like Wen Ning seem to get a little broken and Wei Wuxian can't fix it all. 

Eventually, Wei Wuxian develops something really dangerous that helps to kill off the leader of the Decepticons and win the war. I was thinking some kind of spacebridge technology, perhaps? Because I was thinking that a spacebridge accident should be what "kills" Wei Wuxian for 10+ years, before popping him back into his usual reality, back into a world that has seemingly moved on without him. 

After the Decepticons are first defeated, the situation is tense. Wei Wuxian is sitting on a goldmine of dangerous and powerful technology, capable of developing more. He somehow managed to bring Wen Ning back from the dead this one time and even the Cybertronians seemed weirded out by that. After the war, a lot of people aren't kindly inclined towards the New Autobots, and some people want to take them apart to see what makes them tick. 

Including Wen Yuan, a brand new Decepticon who was created during the war and then rescued by the New Autobots at the very end of it, taken under their wings before he could be forced to do anything to hurt anyone. Wei Wuxian is not this kid's dad. Wen Yuan isn't really a "kid". But he's still relatively small (only like 10ft-tall) because they don't have the parts to get him good upgrades yet and so inexperienced. I need you to picture a six-month-old robot very, VERY carefully picking up a human Wei Wuxian who is about half his size, who drank himself to sleep in the lab again, so that Wen Yuan can put him to bed. It is sad. 

The character who is probably the closest equivalent to an Optimus Prime figure here is Granny Wen. Optimus Prime if Optimus Prime sounded like someone's grandma. I think it would be fun to make her the leader of the New Autobots. Not sure yet whether or not she has or at one point had the Matrix. If she ever did, maybe it was ripped out of her chest at some point. 

I'm disinclined to kill off all the Wen remnants again in an AU, so I'm leaning towards Wei Wuxian helping them escape Earth through a spacebridge in the face of some "unofficial" mercenary attack. Wen Ning gets "killed" again (captured by the Jin Corporation, who are not identified at the time). Pretty much everyone else manages to get away. Except for Wei Wuxian, who gets caught in a spacebridge accident, and banished to the Shadowzone, assumed dead. 

Many years later, young scientist Mo Xuanyu uses Wei Wuxian's spacebridge research to bring him back from the Shadowzone. Wei Wuxian does not have a good sense of how much time has passed. He was wearing an exosuit, which kept him from dying outright, but being in stasis in between realities takes more than a minute for recovery. Damn. That was weird.

The situation more than a decade later is actually apparently less dire than he might have feared. The New Autobots managed to negotiate a treaty and a safe return to Earth, and have built a new base here, working cooperatively with allies such as Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng, who have put much of Wei Wuxian's work to good, productive use helping Earth rebuild. How do Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng work with the New Autobots when they can't stand speaking to each other and hate agreeing with each other ever? Well, that's what personal assistants are for. 

Lan Wangji apparently only got hotter as he got older and Wei Wuxian is having a hard time dealing with that! It seems unfair! (Wei Wuxian is going to cry when they find and rescue Wen Ning again. And someone will finally force him to talk about his desire to make out with Lan Wangji across the hood of his car who is also his friend who is also a giant robot.) 

I don't know what has happened to Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan here. They could be alive? Maybe not? In the AU, however, Jin Ling is the equivalent to Daniel Witwicky, who is son of Spike and Carly. Jin Ling in this AU is a cute human tweenager / teenager with the roundest, rosiest cheeks you've ever seen. 

And all the other "Juniors" are giant robots. 

Lan Wangji took Wen Yuan under his wing. Lan Sizhui has gotten his first few rounds of upgrades, so he's at least twice his previous size, in good repair now, and pretty much unrecognizable. I need you to imagine giant robot Lan Sizhui very carefully picking up "Dr. Lan" to demonstrate to the other junior New Autobots how such a thing is done with humans. Lan Sizhui is very roughly equivalent to the TF character of Springer at this point. 

Ouyang Zizhen is roughly equivalent to Arcee. Lan Jingyi is roughly equivalent to Hot Rod. They were brought to Earth because Cybertron is still partially under Decepticon control and the Earth base is safer for young Cybertronians. They are also roughly the same age as Lan Sizhui and Jin Ling.

As far as little human Jin Ling is concerned, he has just as much right to "leadership" of this friendship group as any of the others! They're alll the same age!!! 

And yes, one could also move Lan Sizhui into the "Hot Rod" position here, but Lan Sizhui has vibes that are closer to Ultra Magnus than Hot Rod in my opinion, and I like Hot Rod. And it is just funny to think about Lan Jingyi becoming a Rodimus Prime equivalent and having to deal with being the new bearer of the Matrix of Leadership. No one considered him a potential candidate, least of all himself. He did Not Ask. He does Not Want. 

There's a potential plot here regarding the Jin Corporation and Mech Pilot Nie Mingjue's murder and potentially some Unicron equivalent threat to the planet, but it's too heavily dependent on whatever has happened previously in this plot to create solid thoughts. And it's late! I would much rather amuse myself thinking about Lan Jingyi as Rodimus Prime. He would like to Get Off This Ride.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hi! I enjoy suffering for a couple of minutes with your angst stories hahaha

It's a fact that Donna is a very cultured woman so how about a storie where she and reader are soon to be married and all that, but reader insecurities have been eating her alive cuz she doesn't feel intelligent enough next to Donna, like they don't share the same music taste, maybe reader enjoys pop and newer artists unlike Donna and she tries to suppress that. reader thinks donna will think less of her or something.

one day maybe one of donna's siblings makes fun of reader's lack of knowledge in the arts or something and that makes reader just snaps and cause a fight back at home and throwing the wedding ring to donna and telling her to find a wife worthy of someone smart like her. donna comforts reader telling her she only wants her, and already noticing that reader doesn't know the same things like her, tells her she knows about other stuff and has other talents making reader realize she is also smart, but with other stuff. fluff at the end of course, not all can't be angst 😅

Yesss!!! I don't know if I should feel flattered to know you suffered... (I'm just joking :P) Thank you for your support and for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))

Not enough for you

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, insecurities…

Word count: 7,155

Summary: You thought she was perfect, and you just were stupid....

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Just a heads up: Everyone has their own talents, and I don't think someone is less smart or intelligent. All the people are genius in doing something, the thing is to find what, just remember that!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours :))) I love you all!!!

“Do you think it can be fixed? Maybe we should call the Duke and…” Donna commented as you crouched down, looking at the old record player.

“Mm, let me take a look,” you said, opening the closet doors and illuminating the intricacies of the device with a flashlight. “Yes, I know where the problem is, come.”

The lady in black nodded suspiciously, looking at the place you indicated while arching your eyebrows, satisfied.

“I don't see anything, tesoro,” she said, frowning.

“It's this piece here, it seems that time has passed too quickly for it,” you said amused, moving away from the closet and searching for something in a toolbox. “It just needs to be replaced.”

Donna nodded slowly as you searched for the desired item with a concentrated look.

“Aspetta, (Y/N), it might be dangerous,” the lady said, putting a hand on your shoulder before you started to dig around in the record player. “It might give you a cramp or…”

“Bah, calm down,” you sighed with a distorted voice, as you grabbed the flashlight with your teeth. “Mm, jusft, a bif, tighfer and… voilà,” you finally said, with a satisfied smile, standing up and brushing the dust off your dress.

“Is that it?” she asked, looking at the machine with curiosity. “That easy?”

“Look,” you said with a triumphant look, bringing the old piece closer to the lady. “Do you see this thing here? It seems that it was so worn out that it wasn't able to make the disc tray spin,” you explained, running your finger along the frayed piece. “I think that's why we always listened to the same 2 seconds over and over again.”

“Oh,” Donna sighed, making the same gesture and confirming your words. “It seems that nothing lasts forever”

“It will last, as long as I'm here,” you said arching your eyebrows and putting away the tools. “There is no device that can resist me.”

“I see,” the lady in black said, laughing amused and unexpectedly grabbing your waist while placing a soft kiss on your lips. “Thank you, Lady Beneviento.”

You blushed and gave a soft punch to her shoulder while you struggled amused against her kisses.

“Hey, you haven't stolen my last name yet, let me enjoy it while I can,” you joked, stealing another kiss from the lady. “There's still a month left,”

“I still can't believe you're going to be my wife...” Donna whispered, joining her forehead with yours while her hands caressed your cheeks. “Sometimes I think I'm dreaming and that one day I'll wake up... and you won't be here anymore...”

You opened your eyes and shook your head, lifting the lady's chin.

“Hey, Donna,” you said, getting her attention, taking her out of a brief sad moment, of painful memories. “This is better than any dream.”

She smiled, kissing you again and lifting you in the air, spinning you like one of her old records, creating tender laughter that bounced off the walls of the old mansion.

It had surely been a long time since that wallpaper and those wooden panels had witnessed the happiness of their owner.

“(Y/N)… my wife,” the lady murmured with a tender smile, brushing her nose against yours and making you blush again. “I never thought there would be someone like you in my life, someone to marry, to start a family with…”

“Wow, slow down, darling,” you said amused, pushing the doll maker away with a frown. “Don't go so fast, you are immortal, aren't you? We have enough time for that.”

“You're right, I'm sorry,” she said in a low voice, blinking to get out of her own fantasies. “Sometimes I get too excited.”

“It's okay, I like the way you are, Donna,” you responded to her apologies, stealing one last kiss and definitely moving away from her. Otherwise, you couldn't do it; you were terribly addicted to her kisses.

It was another day, another day that joined the countdown of the most important moment of your life.

In that sinister village, love was the last thing you could expect. Fidelity to the Gods, responsibilities to them and the Lords kept you, the poor villagers, from wishing or dreaming of a normal life.

But you always lived in your dreams, in the desire to change the destiny that had been programmed for you when you were born. You weren’t a fervent devotee like the rest of your friends, and to you, Mother Miranda, and her adopted children weren’t deities but obstacles to deal with.

You always tried to stay away from that fanaticism. You never wanted to follow the complacent and submissive flock. Surely you deserved to be punished for your lack of faith, but soon you learned that your different attitude wouldn’t give you problems, but quite the opposite.

When you met her, when Donna Beneviento, youngest Lord and a dark woman, crossed your path, you began to think that perhaps in some way they were Gods. You didn't think so because of her powers, her living doll, or her beauty, one that took you too long to discover.

The attraction you began to feel for her was very different from your previous love infatuations. Donna exerted an unknown, addictive and merciless influence on you, forcing you, shortly after kissing her lips for the first time, to fall madly in love with her.

Yes, it wasn’t easy to deal with a woman like her; a woman with complexes about her appearance, a sick woman who from a very early age had to see herself enveloped in the halo of darkness that the embrace of the Black Gods gave her without asking.

Difficulties, crises, jealousy, doubts… It was an odyssey worthy of telling in a boring romance book, but it was your odyssey, your adventure, the conquest of a wounded heart, of a lost soul that found its place with you.

After several years in the old mansion, of kisses, hugs, passion, laughter, tears… the lady in black couldn’t wait any longer to strengthen your commitment, to impatiently ask you that words stop being just that, and become an unbreakable union.

Fearing that your romance was only fleeting, full of doubts and insecurities, Donna took the next step to convince you and herself that you would never leave her, that there would be something, a ceremony that would say that indeed, your love was forever.

You couldn't say that you had no doubts about marriage, because that would be a lie. It seemed a little hasty to you despite those 4 wonderful years. Maybe it was because you never considered getting married as something truly important in a place like that.

But, above all, it was important to Donna, and that was all you needed when the lady knelt down and swore eternal love to you by showing you a shiny ring. You rambled for days about what your new status would be: wife of a Lord, consort Lord, wife of an immortal demigoddess...

All of that was just rambling, the product of the innocent doubts of a 21-year-old girl facing something as serious and adult as marriage. You stopped seeing it that way very soon after and you knew exactly what you would be: You would be Donna's wife, and that was more than enough; you would be just (Y/N) Beneviento.

“My love... Are you okay?” you asked carefully when you saw that the lady didn’t move from the spot, looking at the floor. “Honey, you are shaking...” you said worriedly as you took her hand.

“No, I'm not okay,” Donna murmured, blinking erratically, breathing the same way. “I-I got suddenly nervous...”

“Mm,” you murmured caressing her cheek, sad to see how the lady's madness always chose the worst moment to show itself. “Shh, calm down, honey... Oh, Donna, are you having another crisis?”

The lady only nodded, letting herself be comforted by your caresses.

“I-I need a moment,” she whispered with a broken voice, surely fighting against the demons in her mind. “I have to make them shut up…”

“I'll tell Angie to stay with you,” you whispered in a tender voice, enduring the excessively strong grip of her hand in yours. “I'm going to... I'm going to make you some tea.”

“N-No, io...” she stammered, shaking her head. “I'll go, (Y/N), I want to be alone... yes, I... I'll be right back.”

“Okay,” you sighed, nodding and being an expert in controlling those episodes, knowing what to do at every moment. “Okay, honey.”

Poor Donna. Fate had been terribly cruel to her, leaving the illness of her mind as the only memory of her family. It was terribly painful for her but for you, it was much worse.

Luckily, over time you learned to take care of her, to comfort her when the voices in her head whispered horrible things. For you, nothing was impossible with her, nothing would ever stop you from loving her.

“Perdonami, (Y/N)” Donna whispered, moving away from you and walking quickly towards the elevator hallway, letting a sob escape from her lips.

“Donna…” you sighed, feeling helpless for not being able to do anything else for her, resigning and letting yourself fall on the couch, looking for the book you used to read. “Well, I can only wait.”

The truth is that you were never bored during those waits or during Donna's work with her dolls. It was a big mansion, with many old devices to tinker with and an unfinished mountain of books to read.

Besides, you always had company, the Angie doll always ran away from her owner's fits of madness for fear of being deactivated. Well, that’s what she told you, you knew that in reality, even if she denied it, that irreverent doll enjoyed your company.

“It was the detective,” the doll said, pointing at your book with enthusiasm. “I'm sure, silly.”

“How could it have been the detective? Angie, haven't you heard the story?” you asked amused, turning a page. “It was the dressmaker.”

“Oh, you're so sure of your words,” the doll hummed, sitting on your lap. “Where does it say that?”

“It doesn't say that, that's the point,” you said. “Do you even know how to read?”

“I can read your mind,” Angie hissed, getting too close to your face.

“Oh, really?” you asked as your eyes wandered over the letters of that detective story. “Well, I hope you're not reading it to me right now…”

“Hey, you shouldn't judge any character before knowing the truth,” the doll snapped at you, making you roll your eyes. “You have no proof.”

“Oh, I have,” you said nodding, turning another page, looking up when you heard the familiar sound of heels on wood. “Donna, are you better?”

“Sì,” the lady replied, her expression more relaxed, embarrassed. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be,” you said, going back to your book.

“Hey, Donna, Donna,” the doll said jumping off the couch and tugging at the lady's black dress. “The fool thinks she's Sherlock Holmes or something, she says it was the dressmaker.”

“We were reading,” you explained, letting the lady come closer, giving you a soft kiss on the cheek and glancing at your reading.

“The Tape-Measure Murder,” she commented, whispering the title. “Mm, I'm convinced you don't need to read the end to find out the truth.”

“Sometimes Agatha Christie makes it too easy… it's obvious that it was the dressmaker,” you said amused, raising and lowering your eyebrows.

“You see? She thinks she's Miss Marple,” Angie said, pointing at you mockingly. “It was the detective.”

“I don't want to spoil the ending,” Donna said with a tender smile, pinching your cheek. “But (Y/N) is right… it was the dressmaker,” she whispered, making you protest with a sigh.

“Eh, thank you very much,” you said closing the book. “But well, I was right after all,” you said, looking at Angie in a satisfied way, making her grunt.

“I'm sorry, I'm not as discreet as I thought,” your fiancée apologized, shaking her head. “Mm, but you had barely started reading it,” she commented curiously. “How did you know?”

“The clues were too clear,” you said with a petulant tone. “It might seem like a setup, something so obvious it couldn’t be true, but you know, I’m good at crime.”

Donna laughed, giving you a soft kiss on the lips, to which Angie protested with a disgusted grunt, making you both laugh cutely as you separated.

“Mm, detective stories are fine, but I think you could start with something a little more serious,” Donna commented, standing up towards a bookshelf.

You nodded curiously, picking up the bulky book the lady handed you.

“Crime and Punishment, Fyodor Dos… Do… Dostres…” you read, frowning at the author’s complicated last name.

“Fyodor Dostoyevsky,” Donna corrected in a friendly tone, to which you arched, nodding absentmindedly. “If you like crime, I think you might be interested.”

“It seems… broad,” you whispered, flipping through the old pages. “Is it funny?”

“Well, depending on how you look at it,” Donna said, with an elegant smile. “It goes deep into the thoughts of a man who wants to commit murder, his conscience, his fears…”

“Oh,” you said disinterestedly, frowning. “But there are unsolved crimes?”

“Read it, it's worth it,” your girlfriend told you, patting you on the shoulder. “I think I'll be a little more boring,” she murmured amused, picking up another book and walking towards the entrance. “I'll put on some music, taking advantage of the fact that my future wife has fixed the record player…”

“I love you,” you whispered confidently, blowing her a kiss in the air.

The atmosphere was calm. Classical music was playing to give even more serenity to the room, but that didn't necessarily have to be a good thing. As you read that complicated book, accompanied by the soft chords of Donna's favorite music, your eyelids seemed affected by gravity.

Yes, you liked detective novels, and you were downright good at guessing the culprit before they revealed themselves, but the book Donna gave you was much more complicated than that and the words jumbled around in your brain.

You liked reading, of course, but you liked to something much lighter, not something that was undoubtedly, inducing you to sleep.

“(Y/N),” Donna said, nudging you slightly. “Are you falling asleep?”

“What?” you asked with a hoarse voice giving away the correct answer, settling down on the couch “No, no, it's... interesting.”

“Honey, your eyes are closing,” she said amused while you maintained a proud pose. “You don't like the book?”

“Oh, yes, yes, it's very entertaining,” you lied, feeling a familiar pang in your chest, an embarrassed blush appearing on your cheeks.

It wasn't the first time it happened. Donna Beneviento, contrary to what was often said in the village, wasn’t just a madwoman. She was a terribly cultured and intelligent woman, and you loved that about her.

But sometimes, just sometimes, you felt that her intelligence was far superior to yours, that somehow, you were a little more… normal. Of course, you ignored all these senseless paranoia, but, from time to time, they came back to haunt you.

You didn't want to seem like an uncultured girl, or uninterested in complicated subjects like art, history or philosophy. You had long since begun to pretend that you weren't so bored by a complicated reading or the soft melody of a work composed centuries ago.

 You didn't know what Donna would think if she knew that all of that made you sleepy, you didn't want her to think that you were inferior to her, in any way.

“It's this music, it's making me sleepy,” you said yawning and looking for an excuse for your sudden sleep.

“Oh, I thought you liked classical music,” Donna said, looking at you curiously.

“Yes, and I like it…” you lied, getting up from the couch to clear your head. “But I'd prefer something more… lively.”

“Okay,” Donna nodded, getting up to the record player and stopping that soporific melody. “What do you want?”

“Oh, no, no, no not on that old thing,” you said amused, walking towards an old music player you bought from the Duke and that you fixed yourself. “Now it's my turn.”

“Um, (Y/N)…” the lady said, playing with her hands while you manipulated your record collection.

“Let's see, let's see…” you murmured, feeling Angie climbing up your body.

“This one, this one!” the doll squealed, pointing to one of your favorite records.

“Isn't it a bit old?” you asked with the box in your hand. “Well, it could be considered classical music, don't you think, honey?” you said to the lady, handing her the CD, as she looked at it curiously.

“Spi… Spice…” the lady murmured, looking at the cover.

“Spice Girls, honey, a classic,” you corrected with a smug smile. “This sure lifts my spirits.”

“A classic? It says here that it's from 1996,” Donna protested, frowning as you snatched the box from her, putting the CD in the player. “You could say that it was just yesterday, (Y/N).”

“It's been over 20 years, Donna, so it's classical music,” you joked again, pressing the button. “Hey, Angie, I think you know the first song…”

“Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want!” Angie sang as the music started playing, jumping up and down on the floor.

“So tell me what you want, what you really, really want,” you continued, high-fiving the doll, the only one who seemed happy with your choice.

Donna stood with a frown, gently lowering the volume on the player as you sat back down on the couch.

“Ah, much better,” you commented, picking up the book again and looking at the lady over it. “Hey, honey, aren’t you coming?”

“How can you read with this music? It’s impossible,” she said in a slightly childish tone.  “Cos’è questo?”

“Music, dolcezza,” you said ironically, shaking your head. “I would have liked to play something more recent, but lately the Duke is short of contraband material.”

“No wonder. This is horrible, they don't even know how to sing,” the lady said, crossing her arms as the music seemed to destroy her ears.

“Donna…” you sighed, rolling your eyes and moving a leg to the rhythm of the music. “Stop complaining and come here.”

“You can't even dance to this,” she protested again, approaching you and glancing sideways at the stereo. “Is this really music?”

“Angie knows how to dance to it,” you said amused, pointing at the doll with your head, a doll that moved to the rhythm of that catchy song.

“Mm,” Donna murmured, letting you sit her down with a quick movement. “No, I can't.”

“Donna, stop fooling around,” you said with a hiss, shaking your head. “You always choose the music.”

“Forgive me for preferring a soft melody with perfectly ordered chords and notes to the screamers of hell,” she protested, getting up again. “This has nothing to do with the true meaning of music. It’s not elegant, they just seem like stupid brainless girls.”

“Maybe they are, but it's cool,” you said distractedly, scratching your hair to try to concentrate on the heavy reading. “Hey, where are you going?”

“To the basement, it's impossible to concentrate here,” the lady explained, disappearing among murmurs in Italian that you initially didn't give importance to.

“As you wish,” you sighed, glancing sideways at the player.

Naturally, Lady Beneviento and you came from very different times. Education, culture, everything was distant, but normally your two worlds coexisted in harmony, like those melodies she liked so much.

However, since you got engaged, you tried to take better care of those kinds of details. You knew Donna loved you. She was the one who wanted to take you as her wife so she would never lose you, but sometimes you wondered if she really bothered to really get to know you.

You didn't know what to do, whether to give in, show yourself as you really were, or pretend a little more. The idea that Donna saw that you were nothing but an ordinary girl with ordinary tastes was disturbing. She was intelligent, complicated, cultured, and you were just a country girl who enjoyed the little things in life, who didn't even bother to wonder about the origin of her existence.

You felt somewhat insecure as the days went by, unable to get along with her refined tastes, with the readings that she was passionate about. Of course none of that seemed like a problem, and maybe you were giving it much more importance than it had, but the expression of weariness, of discomfort with your simple tastes made you see you were wrong.

Donna was a wonderful woman and you were just a simple village girl, would she really still love you when she realized you weren't as cultured as she was?

The question terrified you; it made you stay up at night, it made you change, it made you carefully pretend that you were starting to be interested in such boring things. Being who you weren't wasn’t your favorite way to deal with the problem, but, with a month to go before the wedding your nerves made you make impulsive decisions.

You wanted to make her see that you were just like her, that everything she liked was also your passion. It really was hard, but you managed to fool her for a while, thinking that maybe that way, you would never disappoint her.

How ironic, you were trying to make the lady in black, the disturbed Donna Beneviento, the same one who feared so terribly to lose you, not to leave you.

“What are you doing, tesoro?” the lady asked when she finished with her dolls, finding an almost comical scene in front of her.

“Reading,” you said amused, holding the heavy book while letting the lady kiss your forehead affectionately. “Oh, and you were right, that music of yours is much more relaxing,” you commented satisfied, with the classical chords in the background.

“Mm, well,” Donna said, nodding, resting her head on your shoulder. “What do you think of the book?”

“It's good,” you answered with a fake smile, full of the wisdom you obviously lacked.

“I'm glad,” she sighed, frowning and picking up a cup that was on the table. “Did you drink a whole cup of coffee?”

“Yes, I needed to cheer myself up,” you said, downplaying that slight caffeine overdose. “Maybe I went a little too far.”

“The coffee pot was empty, did you drink it all?” Donna asked, taking your shaking hands. “(Y/N), so much coffee is not good for you.”

“Do you know what's not good?” you asked, closing the book and sensually climbing up the lady's body, with a seductive purr. “Having you so close to me, making my heart beat wildly...”

“That's because of the coffee,” she joked, caressing your legs, which rested on either side of her hips. “Mm, tesoro...”

“Shh, Angie's not here,” you murmured, biting her earlobe. “How about having fun?”

“Sounds good to me,” the brunette sighed, giving herself to your eager lips, moving your body with hers in an erotic dance, anticipating a pleasant afternoon of passion.

“Make me yours, my wife,” you whispered, slowly unbuttoning her dress, abruptly interrupted by the agonizing ringing of the phone. “Oh, it just can't be…”

“Don't pay attention,” Donna said, laughing amused, caught by your desire to love, by the desire to make you hers like only she knew how. “It will stop ringing soon… “

“No, I…” you said, getting off her body with a look of resignation. “You should pick it up, maybe it's Mother Miranda. Don't worry, I'll be waiting.”

Donna nodded, kissing you quickly and getting up with a nervous gasp, taking the phone while you seduced her by getting comfortable on the sofa and biting your lower lip.

“Pronto,” the lady sighed. “Oh, Alcina… yes, well, actually… Oh, well I don’t… Yes, I think it’s a good idea… sure, of course she’ll come, see you later, ciao…”

“Mm?” you murmured with some disappointment when you saw Donna turning back to you while fastening the buttons again. “Alcina?”

“Yes…” she sighed, also frustrated. “She says she wants us to go to the castle for tea.”

“Have you said yes? Donna… I wanted to make love,” you protested, pouting. “Come on, if we hurry we can…”

“Alcina says she has something for us, you know, for the wedding, it’s not right to reject her kindness,” the lady explained, shaking her head. “It’ll just be tea, tesoro, we won’t be long.”

“Well, okay,” you said, defeated. “You are always so polite…”

“I wouldn't want to disappoint the only family I have left,” Donna commented, with a sad tone. “I'm going to get the veil, oh and… get dressed,” she whispered amused, pointing at the underwear that you yourself pulled down to make her more nervous. “You will make me lose my mind.”

“Mm,” you murmured, stealing a seductive kiss from her. “You owe me one, my wife…”

Of course, the best thing about the trips to the castle was the journey itself. Angie made fun of you as you walked hand in hand through the forest, in silence, enjoying the contact of your skin, the tranquility of a life that would only get better.

Alcina Dimitrescu was the eldest of the Lords, and her attitude and behavior were even more refined than the lady in black’s. Her seductive voice, her glances and the conversations that always traveled between art and wine weren’t your perfect plan to spend an afternoon like that, but you couldn't complain, you knew that Donna cared about her.

“Here it is, my dears... it really is hard for me to part with this jewel, but I feel calm knowing that you and your future wife will have it,” the lady of the castle said, pointing to a small painting.

“Wow... it's impressive,” the Angie doll said, shyly approaching the painting. “Picasso?”

“Picasso,” Alcina answered as Donna tilted her head to better observe it. “It's one of my favorite pieces. You know that during the second world war the looting of works of art was pretty common. Poor stupid soldiers, they thought that this place would be ideal to hide it…”

“Was it from some soldiers?” you asked, trying to make sense of that work of art that seemed to fascinate your fiancée. “Wow, I'm sure it's a mind-blowing story.”

“Mm, the story of how it got here is unimportant, dear. Don't you know what you have in front of you?” the lady in white asked, running a hand over your shoulders. “It's real art.”

“Yes, well,” you said with a frown, confused. “To me it looks like some badly done doodles,” you commented by mistake, making the tall woman gasp with irony.

“Doodles?” Alcina asked, while Donna controlled the doll's impulses to touch the painting. “How can you say that?”

“It's what I see,” you murmured, trying to make sense of those messy figures. “Is this really art?”

“Donna, dear,” Alcina said, ignoring your comment and drawing the doll maker's attention. “Your fiancée doesn't seem pleased by my gift.”

“Perché?” your girlfriend whispered, approaching you. “Don’t you like it?”

“Like isn't exactly the word,” you commented, getting a little closer to the painting. “Was that Picasso guy really that important?”

“Well… he really was,” Donna murmured, looking at you and then at the doodles. “It's abstract art, (Y/N), it doesn't have to make sense.”

“Oh,” you said, nodding. “Well, I guess it's okay…”

“But dear, don't you know anything?” Alcina asked, coming closer again. “I see that your knowledge of art is not at all exhaustive.”

“The truth is that I’m not very interested in art,” you confessed with a shy smile. “I don’t understand it and…”

“That’s obvious,” Alcina joked, laughing sinisterly. “Well, it’s not that important, I’m convinced that you have other… virtues.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, a little annoyed by the comment, nervous.

“Oh, nothing, little bird, I’m just saying that Donna has surely seen other things in you,” the lady said, looking at you with bright eyes and a mocking smile. “Mm, I can imagine what kind of things, my dear.”

“Hey, Alcina!” Angie protested. “Stop flirting with my Donna's fiancée.”

“Please…” the lady in white sighed, making Donna suddenly tense up, starting to suffer another attack of jealousy. “She may be beautiful but… well, beauty isn't everything.”

“Um, yes, we better go,” the lady in black said, uncomfortable, just like you, who lowered your head, starting to think about your insecurities again. “We're taking the painting.”

“Oh, no, no, dear,” said Alcina, looking at you out of the corner of her eye with a regretful expression, surely noticing your sadness. “Mother Miranda told me that there are some loose lycans around, it will be better if I send it to your house when that uncomfortable matter is solved.”

“Va bene,” your girlfriend nodded, taking your hand and observing you cautiously. “(Y/N), tutto bene?”

“Um, yes, yes I… I would like to go home,” you said with a broken voice, with your bad thoughts eclipsing your reasoning.

“Of course, um… Thank you Alcina,” Donna said, pulling your hand towards the exit of the castle.

“Little bird…” the vampire interrupted. “I hope I haven't offended you.”

You didn't answer. You looked away and continued walking. There was no more laughter, no more holding hands on the way back.

Your ignorance was something you always tried to hide, something that was natural to you and that seemed to be of no importance to Donna, but after that unpleasant visit to the castle, everything in your mind changed.

Donna Beneviento was a cultured, intelligent woman, passionate about art, and you were a simple villager, a lover of crime novels, short stories that were easy to read. You weren't on her level, no matter how much you tried to pretend otherwise.

As you walked home, you thought about the near future, about what your life would be like after marriage. You loved Donna, you loved her just the way she was, you loved her mind, her intelligence… but she… what was it that she loved about you?

You weren't sure of the answer and your nerves began to tense. You could pretend for a year, two, but no more. You weren't the intelligent and cultured girl that Donna deserved, you were simply nothing compared to her; you had nothing to offer her.

“I'll make dinner, tesoro,” the lady commented when you were back home, taking off her veil with a tender smile. “Hey, amore mio, what's wrong?”

“Donna, I…” you murmured with a sad sigh. “What did you see in me?”

“Cosa? What's that question about?” she asked, frowning. “Oh, you didn't take what my sister said seriously, did you?”

“How can you expect me not to take it seriously? She's right, I'm stupid,” you growled, clenching your fists. “Donna, stop pretending.”

“Pretend? Um, tesoro, I don't know what you're talking about... I told you not to drink so much coffee,” the lady said worriedly, cupping your face in her hands.

You pulled away with a furious gasp, shaking your head.

“It's not the coffee!” you screamed, releasing a pressure in your chest that was already unbearable. “It's not about that Donna, it's about me, about us.”

“(Y/N), you're scaring me...” she sighed, grabbing you by the shoulders. “Calm down, please.”

“No Donna, I'm not calming down... Why? Huh? Why me? Are you so desperate that you'll settle for any stupid girl who's capable of having children? Is that what you want from me? Then what, huh? You'll kick me out of your life because I'm not what you're looking for…”

“You're delirious, I don't know what's wrong with you,” Donna said, very nervous, shaking her head. “Why do you say such horrible things?”

“They're not horrible things, it's reality,” you hissed, pointing at your fiancée in an unpleasant way. “Donna, I hate classical music, Crime and Punishment is a boring book and I have no interest in art…”

“(Y/N), but,” she interrupted, desperate to get you to come back to your senses. “Tesoro…”

“Disappointed? I assumed so…” you whispered with a dark look while Donna was speechless, just shaking her head. “This is me, a stupid and ignorant girl who gets bored with everything you like.”

“That's not bad at all. I don't…” she said, with a marked accent that betrayed her nervousness. “…I don't care about that.”

“You say that now, but…” you said, laughing nervously. “You'll realize that we're from different worlds, that I'm of no use to you and you know what? I should have realized it sooner.”

“(Y/N)…”

“No, Donna,” you said, sobbing and shaking your head. “I'm tired of pretending that I deserve to have your last name when it's not true. You're a wonderful woman, the most wonderful woman I've ever met in my life, but I'm not, I have nothing to offer you…”

“S-Stop… stop… Stop talking nonsense!” Donna shrieked, furious, unable to control her nerves. “What's this about? What have I done wrong? Why do you say those things?”

“You know I'm right,” you hissed, with a much darker voice, glancing sideways at the shiny ring that decorated your finger. “Now you love me, but soon you'll realize that you've wasted your time with me. I'm not what you deserve; I'm not what you're looking for, Donna.”

“How do you know what I'm looking for?” she asked, grabbing your arm. “Why are you torturing me!?”

“Donna, you’re hurting me,” you protested, breaking away from her grip, watching as the lady slowly lost her mind. “It doesn't make any sense for you to get like that when you know it's true.

“It's not true!” she shrieked, kicking childishly. “(Y/N), don't you dare…!”

“Shh, that's it,” you whispered with your voice broken by crying, approaching her cautiously. “Donna, this can't go on like this, I don't want to ruin your life.”

“Ruin my life? P-Please, let's talk things over, you're not thinking clearly,” Donna said, grabbing your hand again, breathing heavily.

“No, honey, no…” you whispered, caressing her hand and bringing the other to the ring, slowly taking it off your finger. “I'll never be able to think clearly.”

“What are you doing? Why…?” Donna asked, looking at the ring already off your finger, a ring you placed in the palm of her hand, closing her fist over it.

“It's okay, I know when to back off,” you sobbed, clenching her fist. “You should give this to a woman who is better than me, a smart girl like you, who deserves to wear it.”

“(Y/N), il tuo anello… put it on, per favore,” she whispered nervously, playing with the jewel, grabbing your hand tightly. “Per favore! Don't do this to me!”

“I'm sorry, darling,” you said with a sore throat, returning the ring to her hand, squeezing it tighter. “I don't deserve you, you should find someone who does.”

“No, no, wait, wait,” the lady said, pulling your wrist as you prepared to leave the mansion. “No…”

“Goodbye, Donna,” you sobbed before turning around and running to the exit, leaving the lady in black paralyzed, dropping the ring, which bounced on the floor.

“What are you doing, silly Donna!? She's leaving, do something!” Angie shrieked, pulling at her dress.

Donna didn't move, she was just sobbing in shock, motionless.

You looked at her one last time and opened the door, leaving her life forever.

“Donna, Donna! You can't let her go! Donna, react!” Angie continued, while her voice became more and more imperceptible. “The lycans, Donna, the lycans…!”

Her screams were barely whispers as you ran through the dark forest, crying panting, having made the hardest decision of your life. No, Donna didn't deserve you, she didn't deserve a brainless girl like you, you would only make her unhappy. You were completely convinced.

The tiredness made you relax your steps, panting and screaming desperately. You had lost the love of your life, and it wasn't because of something you had done, but because of who you really were. She could never love you. She could never love a stupid girl like you, even if she forced herself to do so.

A sinister roar brought your consciousness back for a moment. The place was terribly dark and you lost your bearings. Going back wasn’t an option, but you didn't know what was in front of you, which was the right way after leave the elevator.

“I'm so stupid that I don't even know where...” you lamented, walking until you collided with something hairy, with a horrible creature that made you trip.

Normally, lycans didn't roam the territories of the Lords, but you soon remembered Alcina's warning about some rebellious beasts that escaped Miranda's control.

Your arm hurt and the moisture on your clothes told you that you were bleeding, but that wasn't the worst part, the worst part was seeing how that beast raised its claws before you to tear you apart, giving a pathetic end to your pathetic life.

“Stop!” a voice behind you said, causing the beast to obey and back away in fear.

The dim light of the place illuminated the silhouette of the lady in black, who was slowly approaching, terrifying the lycan just by her mere presence.

“Fuori…” Donna hissed, making the creature whimper, forcing it to protect itself with its claws. “Get out of here!”

The lycan fled, and the lady crouched down next to you, checking your condition.

“(Y/N), parlami, per favore… where did it hurt you?” she asked, being pushed unpleasantly by you, getting up on your own.

“Donna, I'm… I'm fine,” you said, grabbing your injured arm. “I… er… thank you.”

“Amore mio, you're bleeding,” Donna said, holding your arm and taking a look at your wounds. “Come, I have to…”

“No,” you said coldly. “You don't need to take care of me, not anymore,” you said, giving in to crying again, inevitably throwing yourself into her arms. “Donna…”

“Shh, you're very nervous, tesoro, come, let's go home and… I'll heal you and…” she stammered, crying, but keeping her composure better.

Silence. That was the word that best defined that moment. While Donna healed you, you sobbed under her watchful gaze, unable to say anything, unable to stop feeling at ease in what until a while ago, was your home.

“Perché? Perché, (Y/N)?” the lady murmured, wiping the blood from your arm, looking away from you.

“Donna, I've already explained my reasons,” you murmured distractedly, not wanting to go back. “Thank you for healing me, but I'll leave as soon as you do.”

“You can't…” she sighed, closing her eye to keep calm. “You can't just leave like that, without giving me a reason. You’re breaking my heart…”

“I'm sorry, but it's for the best, I love you too much to let you waste your time on me,” you said with a broken voice, but firm in some way. “Donna I... I'm not like you. You're a cultured, intelligent woman and I... I'm just a stupid village girl who likes to listen to stupid songs and read books that could be for children. I'm not what you think.”

“But you are what I want,” she murmured, bandaging your wound delicately. “Do you really think I want a pedantic girl like my sister by my side? No, (Y/N)…”

“It's what you deserve,” you sobbed again, pulling your arm away.

“You're just talking nonsense, (Y/N), I love you just the way you are. I would never pretend to change you, I... (Y/N), tesoro, you have to believe me. I'm not looking for anything because I've already found it, I've found you…” Donna sighed, lifting your chin. “You are the love of my life, the one I want to be my wife, my family.”

“You've chosen wrong,” you said with a nervous laugh, shaking your head. “I'm just a stupid girl.”

“You're wrong, (Y/N),” the lady hissed, darkening her gaze. “Do you think a person's intelligence is measured by their knowledge of art or literature? No, tesoro…”

“Well, but…”

“No, now you're going to listen to me. You're not stupid. Just, just look at everything you've done during all this time. I would never have been able to fix the record player, or the projector… (Y/N), you bought the Duke a broken device and fixed it, you made it work again as it were magic…”

“Not that…”

“Taci,” she interrupted, with a brusque tone, cupping your face in her hands. “You are capable of much more than you think, of things that I would never be capable of, never… You say you are stupid for not knowing anything about art, for considering a complicated book boring, but that’s not true.”

“Donna, I…” you tried to say, silenced by a finger on your lips.

“Amore mio, you are intelligent, much more than me in many ways. You are funny, decisive and have an amazing capacity for deduction, or do you forget that you never finish any of your detective stories?”

“Well, that’s because…” you explained somewhat confused, relaxing the demons that were hovering in your mind.

“Because you know the ending before reading it. That is intelligent, tesoro, those are your abilities, just because they are not the same as mine doesn’t mean they are insignificant,” she said, with a desperate smile, trying to make you reason, starting to achieve it. “I fell in love with you just the way you are, I love you just the way you are…”

“But Donna, I…” you protested unsurely, beginning to give in to her pleasant words. “I don't think that… that I can contribute anything, I…”

“(Y/N), you are the missing part of my boring existence, you are that joy that lights up my life. Please, don't abandon me because without you… without you, art would cease to be…”

“That's very nice,” you said while blushing, letting be guided by her hand until her lips rested on yours with a soft and salty kiss, an intense, deep love kiss…

“Hey, hey, hey!” interrupted Angie, comically separating you by giving something to Donna, something that made her look at you sadly. “You dropped this, silly Donna, why don't you put it back in its place?”

She sighed, looking at the ring Angie gave her and gently grabbing your hand.

“(Y/N), sposami…” she asked in a soft voice. “Don't leave me alone, don't let me get lost without you because… because without you I'm nothing…”

“Donna…” you said, letting the ring slide back down your finger, starting to get rid of the bad thoughts in your mind, realizing that deep down you knew she was right, that intelligence wasn't measured by tastes, but by many other things.

“Donna, I love you… of course I'll marry you…”

[celticcrossanon]

BRF Reading - 23rd of November, 2024

This is speculation only

Cards drawn on the 23rd of November, 2024

Question: How is Princess Catherine? (mentally, physically, and emotionally)

Note: This reading was done with all cards in the upright position

Interpretation: Trying to move on, looking for the positive in things

Card One: The Six of Swords

This was my card for Princess Catherine mentally

The Six of Swords is a card of moving on, transitioning from one way of life to another, leaving something behind, loss that propels us forward.

The energy of this card is of someone who is trying to move on from their problems into a better state of mind.

I think that Catherine is trying to move on from an 'I have cancer I need to have treatment for this' focus to a 'looking forward to a brighter future' focus. I feel that she is trying to - not ignore her problems or health issues, but look beyond them and focus on the positives in her life, both immediate and those in the near future (eg I could attend one event last month, can I attend two events this month - that sort of positiveness). It is very much a card of transition, of the slow progress from 'not being able to do anything' to 'being able to do this amount of stuff per week'.

There is also a sense of sadness for the things she has learnt (such as the entire media being willing to ignore her request for privacy and turn her absence into a cruel 'where's wally' game). I feel that the cruelty has hurt her but she is trying to see it as a lesson about how inhumane the media can be and who she can trust to respect her wishes, and then accept it as a lesson learnt and move on, rather than dwelling on it and getting all upset about it. The energy has that sense of being in rocky waters but trying to move forward to pools of peace.

There is a sense of focusing very strongly on the positive as a way of giving herself hope and being able to keep on going, because you know the future will be better than the present, you just have to get there.

There is also a sense here of a plan for the future that includes the lessons she has learnt the past year. The future will not be the same as the past - she can't go back to how things were in the past, she is not the same person as she was then - but she can move forward and create a future that gives her what she wants after this year of realising what is truly important to her (more safety is what I want to write, more security, not physical bodyguards but being able to protect herself and her children from the cruelty of the press and the disrespect of people who think they are entitled to know everything about the Waleses).

Overall, a transition energy - taking the lessons of the past year and what has stood out as the most important values to her in the past year and using those to create a future that she would like to inhabit.

Card Two: The Five of Swords

This was my card for Princess Catherine physically

This is the card of not being able to win for losing, winning the battle but losing the war, and that is the energy that is coming off this card. Physically, she is still weak, and she is frustrated by that weakness. It's a two steps forward one step back progress and I get the feeling that she is tired of this and frustrated by it, she wants to heal faster so she can do everything she wants to do but at the same time she knows that this sort of progress is normal and overall she is doing quite well. It's very much the frustration of a physically active person who know has to basically start from scratch again and slowly build up their strength and their stamina to their pre-illness levels. I feel that it is going to take a long time for Princess Catherine to be back at her pre-illness levels of fitness, and by long time I mean years before she is fully recovered. She will be able to go out and about sooner than that but it will be very draining for her.

The energy of this card is normal frustration with the slow, non-linear progress that is recovering from a major health issue.

Card Three: Justice

This is my card for Princess Catherine emotionally

Justice is the card of legal justice, but also of any sort of justice, accountability, truth being revealed, honesty, integrity, consequences etc.

The energy of this card is one of determination and frustration. Catherine wants justice for something. Not necessarily legal justice but emotional justice. She wants to feel that she has been seen and heard, that her grievances have been addressed, that she has fixed things so this will not happen again in the future. If you know the story in the bible of the widow who kept going to the unjust judge and saying 'give me justice against my adversary', and eventually she got it - it is that sort of energy, a persistent push to see justice done, see the truth come out, see people face the consequences of their actions. I don't know what exactly this is about, but something is pushing her to get emotional justice for it - the satisfaction of seeing the truth come out about people who have hurt you.

I drew a clarifier for this, and what came out was two cards together, the Sun and the High Priestess, both of which have an energy of truth - the Sun shedding its light on the secrets kept by the High Priestess. The energy here is of a push to reveal the truth about things, an energy of 'I am sick of living with lies'. The Sun can also be a card about children - just throwing that out there.

Justice is the card of Libra, and Libra is all about balance, so it could be that Catherine is struggling to keep her emotions from veering up and down all the time, which is perfectly natural when you are recovering from an illness - it does throw your emotions out of wack and it is hard to stay balanced (and eg not get upset when you can't do as much today as you did last week).

Underlying Energy: The Empress

The Empress is a card of nurturing, femininity. creativity, nature, abundance, motherhood, and also a card of robust physical health. This is what Catherine wants, the desire underlying the above reading - to be healthy again, to be able to nurture those around her, to have the energy to create and play and have fun with her family, to be able to give back to others and nurture the wider community by doing this. It is a goal that will take time to achieve but that is her ultimate plan - to return to health so she has the energy to give to those around her, instead of being too tired and drained to be able to do much about it.

There is a minor anxiety here that she has to be ready sooner rather than later, that she is on a deadline? time limit? because what happens if she has to be queen and she is not physically ready to take on that role? So some fretting and worrying about that, which may just be the illness speaking (as in sometimes small things loom large when you are unwell and you fret about them when they are really not that important). I think this is a pressure she is putting on herself rather than anything external - she will be upset with herself if the time comes and she can't immediately step into the role that she wants to fulfil as queen.

Conclusion:

Catherine is in a very normal state for someone who is recovering from a major health issue. She is trying to get out and do things but her body is holding her back. Progress is slow and non-linear, which is frustrating. She is trying to focus on the positive and on the future. She wants to take what she has learnt over this past year and use it to shape a future that she is happy about. Emotionally, she may be a bit all over the place. There is a persistent desire or push for emotional justice of some sort. She is worried about her rate of recovery as she feels it is not fast enough and she doesn't have oodles of time to spend healing as she needs to be ready to be queen when that time comes.

[loulovingho]

Here to stop you ✋

I lied. ANYWAY.

Okay, but how does it start? Do they hook up after a close call, high on adrenaline? Is Deacon fighting with Annie one night and Rocker’s there to comfort him? Is Deacon immediately attracted to him when they first meet and hates himself for it and is cold and distant until Rocker wears him down and asks him what his problem is?? Sooo much to think about 😩

OKAY FINE! It's actually a myriad of things. Deacon kinda feels like his life is crashing down on him. He and Annie have been getting into nonstop fights lately. Nothing he does or says is right. It's not all her fault, because he's been taking endless overtime too. Any free time he has he's spending with the kids but not really with her and she's frustrated. On top of that, they've had one bad call after another lately. Informants that turned on them, loss of civilians, endless hostage situations. And today he screwed up. Something he said caused a situation to escalate and he got his ass handed to him by both Hondo and Hicks. It was deserved, he owned up to it, but it still feels like everything is falling apart. Then he's in the locker room, and everyone else has already gone home (or so he thinks) and he gets a text from Annie that says, 'don't bother coming home tonight, it's not like you're ever here anyway.'

That's when Rocker walks in. He asks Deacon what's up and Deacon kinda shrugs it off, says it's nothing. Rocker sits down beside him anyway, says he heard what happened today and he thinks Hicks and Hondo were a little too harsh on him. Deacon disagrees, but says it's not just that. He doesn't really have a place to sleep tonight. He's nearing a mental breakdown, rubs his palms over his eyes to wipe the tears away, and Rocker's hand is on his back. It's innocent, just soothing circles but God it's so calming. And it's been so damn long since someone has taken care of him in any way.

Rocker says hey, why don't you come stay at my place? He's got two rooms! And something about that makes Deacon break down more, until he's kinda sobbing and Rocker is basically holding him in his arms. And maybe Rocker can be a little sarcastic and a little bitchy but he's not a complete asshole. He knows when someone needs help.

Also, listen, Deacon isn't blind. Rocker has always been fucking gorgeous, but some men are just hot. It doesn't mean anything. Except when Deacon looks up and Rocker is staring down at him and suddenly they're both breathing heavily and then their lips are brushing together. Deacon's surprised by the fact that he's the one who deepens the kiss, he doesn't back away from it. He brings a hand to the back of Rocker's neck and pulls him in close and they kiss and kiss until they're breathless. When Rocker pulls away, he asks again, more of a deep whisper this time, "Stay at my place tonight?"

And Deacon just nods and says, "Okay."

[banditthewriter]

Home - A Halsin drabble

I said I would and I did! A short 800+ words with our favorite druid! I wrote this in about 20 minutes. It is also the first thing I've written in over a year.

I know this isn't what most people follow me for but hey. We all change sometimes!

Enjoy!

***

Light pierced through the back of your eyelids. A groan came from your throat as pain started to throb between your temples. Your last memories were beyond recall as you tried to remember where you were. What battle had you been fighting, what enemy had you fallen to? Was the light you saw a fireball coming your way?

“Oak Father preserve me,” came a guttural groan from beside you.

Halsin. Your eyes shot open despite the pain. Fear coursed through you as you imagined that not only you had fallen during this battle, but Halsin as well.

What you saw was a different kind of battlefield all together. You were pressed up against Halsin in the overstuffed, oversized mattress that took up most of the small cabin the two of you shared in what was once the Shadowcursed Lands. Shadowed no more, the sun often shone happily down on the land these days, but not often did it shine directly into your home.

You peered over Halsin’s large frame towards the front door. Two small children stood side by side, their faces dark as the sun poured in behind them, but you knew them well. Their forms seemed to shimmer and join as  you watched them.

“Thaniel, Oliver. Is something wrong?”

“The land missed you while you were gone, but you came back.”

They spoke in tandem, which still freaked you out a bit, but you couldn’t help a bit of a smile as you snuggled in closer to Halsin.

“Of course we did. This is our home.”

They boys giggled and turned as one to leave, but they did not shut the door. The idea of getting up to do that yourself was beyond comprehension so you conjured just a little magic to shut the door behind them.

Blissfully dark in the cabin once more, you sighed and moved to snuggle your druid again. As you did, you noticed his eyes on you, the smallest smile on his lips.

“Gone for mere hours to see our friends at the old camp and we were missed. It brings pleasure to my heart to hear it.”

That was the reason for the extreme headache, you thought with a laugh. Last night was the reunion with your other traveling companions. There had been many bottles of wine while the group regaled each other with stories of the last six months and revisited some tales from your time together. You vaguely remembered challenging the others to a drinking game which would explain the constant thunder in your head.

“Perhaps our next reunion should include less alcohol. My head feels like there is an owlbear in it.”

You laughed at his description, which was immediately followed by a snort as you remembered there was now an owlbear somewhere here with you. Hopefully it remembered the rule of not eating anyone.

“Problems for the future. For now I just want this,” you explained as you snuggled closer to Halsin, your lips pressing against his bare shoulder.

As your eyes started to drift close, Halsin tugged you until you were basically on top of him. It wasn’t a sexual move, just a need for closeness.

“Did you mean what you told Thaniel and Oliver? That this is our home.”

For a moment you thought he meant the small cabin the two of you shared. The large bed and two trunks full of both of your items, shelves filled with books and carved creatures. Even beyond these four walls, the area that the two of you had carved out for yourselves while surrounded by the people you had helped. 

But he meant more than that. He meant the cabin and the lands and the people. The once cursed lands which now prospered under his leadership and skill. Everything used for evil was repurposed and rebuilt. Six months had shown so much growth and you knew in six more months the land would show no scars of the past. 

This land, these people. This druid in front of you. This was your home.

“Yes,” you answered simply, because the answer was simple. You had had homes before. You could go anywhere you wanted, but this? This is where you wanted to be. This is where you needed to be.

“That brings me happiness beyond words, my heart. This is my home and it would feel as dark as the curse without you in it. I am honored to have you at my side.”

Later the two of you would go and talk to the people. Halsin had many new stories to tell the children, though some would need to be censored until they were older. You needed to meet with the people who were rebuilding the House of Healing to make sure they had everything they needed. You wanted to find the owlbear and make sure he was settled in comfortably.

But for now? For now you simply closed your eyes and enjoyed being held by your druid. The two of you were safe and happy, if more than a little hungover, and that was enough for you.

[writingdesknashu]

"Fiction? Are we really on that again. What else do you even want me to do?"

"The problem is that you need to ask. You need to ask and I'm suppose to throw you a party because you do the bare minimum."

"Oh my fucking God! I'm trying. I'm fucking trying. I'm listening and doing all this work and it's always a problem for you. I'm the only one trying to make this work."

An all too deep sigh came then, spilling out so much time and fatigue, saying so much that went unheard. They looked in their "lover's" eyes and saw that same old stare looking back. So, they sighed again, and held themselves.

"When do I just get to be done?" The words came defeated. It would just turn into a fight anyways, so might as well meet the defeat now. "Do you even know what I've done for you this week?"

"Nothing! But I don't complain! I'm not being dramatic and emotional! I'm making this relationship work!"

An opening salvo despite a preemptive defeat. Another sigh.

"Who washed your clothes? Where were you keys this morning? Where's your coat? Who made you lunch? Who got you the fucking paper for that note?" Their grasp tightened on their arm.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"You never remember to wash. You throw your keys down in the bathroom and forget about them. Your coat too. You hate spending money on lunch but hate cooking. And the wouldn't know where to fucking buy paper for school supplies, let alone love notes." They scoffed. "But you never complain right." They looked in their lover's eyes and saw nothing change.

"So I'm supposed to thank you for doing small things like that? I didn't ask you to do them!"

Which was to say, just give up already. This wasn't supposed to be a fight. This wasn't suppose to last more than a few minutes. You were just supposed to feel guilty for not making me feel good. Give up, be beat down. I'll tell my friends I won. I'll tell everyone how easy it was. I'll always remind you that I'm never going to change so lose and let's be done with this.

Be done? Yeah. They could at least do that.

"No, you don't have to thank me for anything. You win." Their lover's eyes changed this time, lighting up with an ugly and familiar flame of victory. They tightened their jaw in turn and let out another sigh. A final sigh.

"I'm going to go home now."

"Yeah. You need to cool down."

"Yeah. Goodbye." They turned, put on their coat, and didn't look back as they closed the door.

They were done, finally, which was only the start, but the start of a journey was better than never taking it in the first place.

Prompt 2524

“Did you get my love note?”

“Yeah, it was the best fiction I ever read.”