#All I've ever known is how to hold my own
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ohdorothea · 3 days ago
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This tournament is being run by and for queer fans so please keep that in mind! Homophobes will be blocked on sight <3 More polls here and more info here! Lyrics for the songs and FAQ under the cut!!!
Mine lyrics
Ah-ah, ah-ah
Ah-ah, ah-ah
You were in college working part-time, waitin' tables
Left a small town, never looked back
I was a flight risk with a fear of falling
Wonderin' why we bother with love if it never lasts
I say, "Can you believe it?"
As we're lyin' on the couch
The moment I could see it
Yes, yes, I can see it now
Do you remember, we were sittin' there by the water?
You put your arm around me for the first time
You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter
You are the best thing that's ever been mine
Flash forward and we're takin' on the world together
And there's a drawer of my things at your place
You learn my secrets and you figure out why I'm guarded
You say we'll never make my parents' mistakes
But we got bills to pay
We got nothing figured out
When it was hard to take
Yes, yes, this is what I thought about
Do you remember, we were sittin' there by the water?
You put your arm around me for the first time
You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter
You are the best thing that's ever been mine
Do you remember all the city lights on the water?
You saw me start to believe for the first time
You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter
You are the best thing that's ever been mine
Oh-oh, oh
And I remember that fight, 2:30AM
As everything was slippin' right out of our hands
I ran out cryin' and you followed me out into the street
Braced myself for the goodbye
'Cause that's all I've ever known
Then you took me by surprise
You said, "I'll never leave you alone"
You said, "I remember how it felt sitting by the water
And every time I look at you, it's like the first time
I fell in love with a careless man's careful daughter
She is the best thing that's ever been mine"
Hold on and make it last
Hold on, never turn back
(Hold on) You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter
(Hold on) You are the best thing that's ever been mine
Yes, yes, do you believe it? (Hold on)
Yes, yes, we're gonna make it now (Hold on, yeah)
Yes, yes, and I can see it (Hold on)
Yes, yes, I can see it now (See it now, see it now)
🫶🫶🫶
When Emma Falls in Love lyrics
When Emma falls in love, she paces the floor
Closes the blinds and locks the door
When Emma falls in love, she calls up her mom
Jokes about the ways that this one could go wrong
She waits and takes her time
'Cause Little Miss Sunshine always thinks it's gonna rain
When Emma falls in love, I know
That boy will never be the same
'Cause she's the kind of book that you can't put down
Like if Cleopatra grew up in a small town
And all the bad boys would be good boys
If they only had a chance to love her
And to tell you the truth, sometimes I wish I was her
When Emma falls in love, it's all on her face
Hangs in the air like stars in outer space
When Emma falls in love, she disappears
And we all just laugh after seein' it all these years
When Emma falls apart, it's when she's alone
She takes on the pain and bears it on her own
'Cause when Emma falls in love, she's in it for keeps
She won't walk away unless she knows she absolutely has to leave
And she's the kind of book that you can't put down
Like if Cleopatra grew up in a small town
And all the bad boys would be good boys
If they only had a chance to love her
And to tell you the truth, sometimes I wish I was her
Well, she's so New York when she's in L.A
She won't lose herself in love the way that I did
'Cause she'll call you out, she'll put you in your place
When Emma falls in love, I'm learning
Emma met a boy with eyes like a man
Turns out her heart fits right in the palm of his hand
Now he'll be her shelter when it rains
Little does he know, his whole world's about to change
'Cause she's the kind of book that you can't put down
Like if Cleopatra grew up in a small town
And all the bad boys would be good boys
If they only had a chance to love her
And to tell you the truth, sometimes I wish I was her
Yeah, between me and you, sometimes I wish I was her
🫶🫶🫶
The question is which song is queerer to you! Queerer can mean whatever you want it to mean; you might consider a song queer because you think it was written that way, or because of Swiftian lore. It might be queer to you because of how you relate it to your own life. Maybe you think from a purely literary standpoint the lyrics have queer themes; maybe you're just thinking about vibes!!!
Put in the tags your interpretations or propaganda for a specific song! Tags will be used to decide what songs may be saved if there are extra slots in the next round!
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purebloods-mudbloods · 3 months ago
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Estaban por salir a escena en su noche de estreno, y claramente Maria estaba nerviosa, no tanto por la obra sabía su papel a la perfección, solo le preocupaba que todo saliera excelente y sobre todo la escena del beso, ya que sería la primera vez que ella y Bertie se besaban y aunque iba a ser actuación ella quería que saliera perfecto, así que no tardó en acercarse al chico con una sonrisa —Hola— expresó con una sonrisa un tanto tímida mientras observaba al chico y entonces sacó un pequeño paquete de mentas —Ya sabes para que todo salga perfecto— no tardó en acomodar la pequeña pluma en su cabello —Y oye rómpete una pierna—
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@orchidcovs
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hercarisntyours · 1 month ago
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chatsukimi · 6 months ago
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ᴄᴏᴜʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ
featuring: protective!heian!sukuna, kindhearted!servant!reader. slight angst/hurt -> comfort. synopsis: you're sick. to your surprise, you're rescued by the man second closest to death himself. masterlist
you should've known he wouldn't come. sukuna has never set foot in the servant's headquarters in his life, let alone to chase after a sick servant. you lower your head, trying to ease the headache that has plagued you through the day.
sukuna loves his bloodshed and his gore. him and death would be good friends, you think to yourself. he wouldn't care if your body was burnt or buried, you think to yourself; wouldn't care if you died at all.
the room the others put you in is empty. ash spreads neatly over the cold floor. the scent of kibble haunts the atmosphere. it's where they put the dogs before sukuna killed them.
ever since you took care of the king of curses while he was sick, the other servants had been careful in keeping a distance from you. not in ill of heart; they're simply terrified at what you must've done to survive in your week long stay with the monster. honestly, you don't blame them.
but now when you're laying on the freezing ground, struggling to breathe, it's hard not to.
'this is where you live?'
your eyes look up. shock. then, with all the strength you can muster, you heave yourself one step away from the man at the doorway, which only serves to piss him off more.
sukuna ryomen, in all his glory, looks down at you. bending down to pick you up like a limp doll to be seated against the wall, he seems to revel in his regained strength. you can't help but feel happy for him, to have survived this fatal disease. not many men can attest to that...
then again, he is no ordinary man.
'i asked you a question.'
you nod, a small thing, barely a movement. he seems to clench his teeth.
he takes off his long white coat, flaunting a layer of dried blood, and drapes it over your shoulders.
yet it doesn't end there. he retrieves from his pocket a bottle of what looks to be a golden syrup.
you know exactly what it is.
he takes your hand and wraps it around the flask, making you hold it, sparing, not one, but two of his eyes, to stare at you, making sure you do as he commands.
'swallow.'
you shake your head. you know he's asking you to do. this is a medication is so rare for your disease that no sorcerer has found in over a hundred years. he's brought this thing of myth right to your very lips. now he's asking you to drink it, and thus take away any chance of it saving anyone else's life.
you scowl, but the tickling sensation in your throat grows stronger, eventually erupting out of your mouth in a harsh cough. you look away from sukuna.
'leave,' you whisper, weakly. 'don't wanna infect you.'
'i survived the illness already. i've developed an immunity.'
you shake your head again. you couldn't threaten your king's health with your own weakness. you just couldn't.
'i can't take this.'
he growls. without any notice, he swallows your lips in a kiss. in the momentary haze, you could hardly resist, fisting the front of his kimono to ground yourself. then, you feel something sweet, honey-ish, hit your tongue.
with his hand locked on your chin, it forces you to swallow.
you pull back, pushing him away. he groans.
he wipes his mouth, still with two eyes staring.
no... no, why did he do that?
'y-you- how? no... why did you waste it on me?' you whisper, desperately searching his face for an answer. 'i'm just a servant. you could've given it to a princess, or a scholar, or priest-'
he grabs you by the arm and forces you into his arms. its heat astounds you, and you find yourself crawling closer. a vague thumping sound seems to press against your ear-
oh. you calm your breathing.
it's his heartbeat.
alive.
'sleep in my room tonight,' he demands.
what did he say? you strain your mind, trying to replay what he said earlier. no... maybe you heard correctly.
'but i'm no concubine,' you respond, instantly.
his arm supports your waist, helping you up effortlessly to your feet. he then directs two of his eyes to the doorway, his cadence low and domineering.
'it doesn't matter.'
he leads you placidly through the servant's quarters. you notice all conversation cease at your entry, bodies dropping into a low bow. a small voice in you whispers that it's where you should be too. you tug at sukuna's arm.
'i'm only a servant, sukuna.'
you know what it looks like, a servant clutching onto a man, more god than human. a man who has slaughtered villages, blood staining the base of his kimono crimson, and turned half a province on its head, just to save you.
'whatever you are in my eyes is what you are to the world,' he states, his expression unchanging. 'if i deem you a queen, that is who you are.'
exiting the servant compound, you know you can't say no- not like you wanted to. the wide expanse of his chest is comforting.
yet however sweet this feeling remains, you can't help but gulp. perhaps this is the closest a human has ever come to courting death.
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missallanea-archive · 1 year ago
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@willowdied: ❛ are you sure this is a good idea? ❜ eurydice to persephone ?
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"Ain't no harm, ain't no sin..." Persephone's words are hummed softly under her breath, gaze barely lifting to look at the young woman. What could Hades possibly do to her now? Their contract had been fulfilled the moment Orpheus had turned around; wasn't much more he could do to the Shade, and her man wasn't exactly in the habit of kicking folks while they were down.
Pushing the sheet of paper across the table once more, Persephone gestured to the pen settled between the pair before fetching a pair of glasses off another table. Setting them down, the goddess took a moment to pour two healthy glasses of wine before returning to her seat: "B'fore your mind starts to go, Eurydice. You're going to want to write everything down, an' I'll take it up above with me... Doesn't break no rules."
various question sentence starters
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thebibliosphere · 2 years ago
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Speaking of therapy, I say, as though we're old friends, and you're not a stranger trapped in this metaphorical elevator with me and you can hear the suspension wires starting to fray.
I've been doing a lot of work recently that's focused on imposter syndrome and the feeling that no matter how well or how much I do, I'm not good enough. That I'm somehow tricking everyone into thinking my work is actually good.
Some days it's a minor niggle in my head that I can gentle and soothe with logic and affirmations. Or smother, depending on the mood. Other times it's loud and all-consuming and the mental anguish it causes me is so real I can feel it twitching in my muscles. This desperate fight-or-flight instinct with nowhere to go and nothing to fight but myself.
Anyway, because I'm several types of Mentally Unwell™, I was switching between workshop sheets ahead of next week. Filling in different forms. (Trying to get a good grade in therapy) And I got my "recognize your harmful ADHD coping mechanisms" worksheet mixed in with the "you're not actually lying to people, you just feel like you are because your brain is full of weasels" worksheet, and seeing them side by side made something go topsy turvy in my head, and I just had to sit and breathe for a couple of minutes until the urge to scream passed. Because it clicked, it all suddenly clicked.
The reason the imposter syndrome workshops and therapy sessions aren't sticking was because I do routinely trick people into thinking I'm someone I'm not.
Because I'm masking my ADHD for their convenience.
I've always known there was something wrong with me. My neurotypical peers made it abundantly clear I didn't fit in or was failing in some way I couldn't see nor remedy, no matter how hard I tried.
So I compressed myself into a workaholic box of hyper-competence in the hopes they'd stop noticing the flaws and exploit like me instead. And then subsequently lived with the daily fear that if they looked too close, they'd realize I'm a monumental fuck up with enough personal baggage to block the Suez Canal.
If you ever need someone to burn themselves to ashes for your comfort and convenience, I'm your gal.
Or I used to. Until I had a bit of a breakdown, and the rubber band holding my brain together snapped and pinged off into the stratosphere, never to be seen again.
Unfortunately, the trauma of living like that didn't also fuck off and instead left a gaping maw where my personality ought to be, so now I get to deal with that aftermath.
And it's that aftermath that's affecting the imposter syndrome shit. Because yes, I am hyper-competent and good at what I do-- but it doesn't feel real because that is how I mask.
And the truly frustrating thing is I am good at what I do. I am not pretending. I worked hard to be good at this. It just feels like I'm dicking around because 90% of my personality turns out to be trauma masquerading as humor in a trenchcoat, and having people genuinely like something weird I'm doing is so foreign my brain has decided it's just another form of masking.
I'm pretending to be a good author so people will think I'm a good author, and my brain thinks we are in Danger of being found out. We are in Danger, and writing is Dangerous because then people will know I'm Weird and not whatever palatable version I've presented myself as for their NT sensibilities.
Like the neurotic vampire with a raging praise kink wasn't an obvious giveaway.
Anyway. I got nothing else. Thanks for listening.
I'm going to go be very normal in another room and not stare into the abyss of my own soul for a bit.
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hyperfixating-rn-brb · 1 year ago
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The Good Omens Fandom has had a lot of fun recently with the knowledge of Aziraphale and Crowley holding hands on the bus at the end of season 1.
Soo here's everything that went through my head as I learned of it for the first time.
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For that entire scene, Aziraphale is really far gone. He's dissociating so hard he can't even realize he's been sitting on a sword. Crowley is probably the only thing keeping him grounded.
They just narrowly stopped Armageddon after a showdown with literally Satan, and still can't let their guard down. For the first time ever, they're completely on their own side. Now they have to orchestrate a body swap to save both of them. They wouldn't just be killed, they'd be completely destroyed. Everything must go exactly according to plan, but how often does that actually happen?
And on top of that, his bookshop, his home, his safe place with the demon he has to pretend not to love is burned and gone.
Crowley is so incredibly gentle and reassuring this entire scene. He's been through so much trauma himself and has spent a lot of his existence shielding the angel from it, hoping to protect some of his innocence and naivete. Crowley is absolutely familiar with every symptom of PTSD and anxiety.
Now he has to see his sweet angel see such a small bit of the horrors of heaven and hell and start to crumble inside. He's going to do his dam best to try and help Aziraphale through it. Speaking softly, ("the bookshop burned down... remember?) slowly and carefully, gradually helping to pull the angel back to reality, reminding him that he's there and will help ground him.
They get on the bus, and sit next to each other. 11 years ago, they sat nearby but separated while Crowley begs Aziraphale to help him prevent the Apocalypse. Now they are sitting together. Both an act of reassurance and unity.
Crowley sits first, Aziraphale could so easily just sit across from him, behind or in front. But he chooses to sit right next to him. And hold his hand. Aziraphale desperately needs to be near to the *former* demon he loves, to hold him, to make sure they won't be separated.
In the book, their famous lines of "none of this would have worked out if you weren't, deep down, just a bit of a good person" and "just enough of a b*stard to be worth liking" came as Satan rose from the earth, as a goodbye in case they were destroyed.
Luckily, that didn't happen and they survived. Armaggedon was stopped. But the angel is still so anxious of losing Crowley. So he chooses to reach out, to anchor himself and reassure himself that Crowley is still there beside him and that they are okay, at least for a few minutes.
And Crowley let him. He knows how badly Aziraphale needs him, he needs the angel just as much. He knows how badly he craved an anchor and support system as he was first abused and traumatized by his Fall, then further by Hell. So he's going to continue being there for Aziraphale, doing everything he can to make his angel feel safe and comfortable.
Over the next few years, Aziraphale would become so much more comfortable reaching out and touching Crowley. Leaning into him, resting a hand on his shoulder or briefly touching his chest. Somehow both reassuring himself that the former demon was still there, and reminding Crowley that he's still there for him at the same time.
Then Crowley becomes more comfortable with the touch, leaning into the angel by himself. No longer flinching at a sudden graze of a hand or reassuring squeeze.
That one moment of the two holding hands on the bus cemented so much of their relationship. "The last few years, not really..." all started on that bus the moment Aziraphale chose to sit down next to Crowley.
edited: at first this said "new knowledge" because I just found out about this all the other day, and wrote this up at 3 AM, and didn't really fact check when this knowledge became well known. I've only really been a GO fan since maybe 2021, and only really started being active in the fandom during the last few months, so a lot of info that is fairly well known is still generally new to me. soo yeah this was edited :)
source for anyone asking for it!
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dramaticals · 4 months ago
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through the wringer
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pairing: theodore nott x ravenclaw reader
summary: theo tries to get your attention by spoiling you with gifts. you pretend not to notice the shift just to mess with him. childhood friends to lovers. / requested by @the-empty-refrigerator.
word count: 1,117
author’s note: i've also posted this on ao3 but as a theo x hermione fic, and so if you're interested in reading that instead: click here. reblogs / comments are always appreciated.
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"What's this?" You ask, blinking in confusion at the box of your favourite sweets in his hands.
Theo places the box in front of you before settling into his usual spot at the Ravenclaw table. Your housemates have now made a conscious effort to leave room for him, considering he had no qualms about squeezing his way in to sit beside you. It's as if he didn't have his own assigned table.
"I thought you Ravenclaws could read."
"You're a twat."
"And here I was, doing something nice for you." Theo sighs. Always the flair for the dramatics. "It's Valentine's Day."
You eye him suspiciously before finally accepting the sweets and his reasoning. For as long as you've known him (and you've known him long enough that you couldn't even remember not knowing him), the two of you have never exchanged anything on Valentine's Day.
"Right, well, thanks." You say, offering him a nudge of your shoulder. His cheeks were pink. "I suppose I could share since I didn't get you anything."
Theo looks at you expectantly before he gives you a slow nod. His facial expression is unreadable, but something flashes in his eyes that you couldn't quite decipher. "How generous."
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"I got you this."
You look up from your parchment, settling your quill down carefully to not spill ink. The library was nearly empty at this hour, and Madam Pince was an hour and a half away from kicking you out.
"Another present?"
"Are you complaining that I'm spoiling you?"
"I don't reckon a fresh box of the cheapest quills warrants you tossing the word spoiling around."
"It's not my fault these happen to be your favourite to write with."
"Hmm, touché." You sound, accepting the pack of quills. "Will that be all?"
Theo blinks, his eyes darting between his gift and you. He opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again. Nothing comes out.
You shake your head and begin to pack your things away. You bite back a smile as Theo, ever the conversationalist, is clearly at a loss for words. "Come on, Nott. Walk me back to my common room."
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"It seems Theodore's quite fond of you." Luna points out as soon as Theo leaves you with another present. This time, it was a locket charmed to hold as many tiny pictures as you liked. Being quite the sentimental person, this gift was thoughtful and just proved to you that Theo knew you—not that it needed to be proven.
"I know." You say, touching the locket he had secured around your neck. There's only one photo in it currently; a picture of you and Theo, laughing as you attempted to swipe frosting across his nose.
"You seem fond of him."
You nod and smile lightly. "I am."
"He doesn't know."
You shake your head. After Theo secured the locket around you, you questioned what the occasion was, and Theo shrugged, claiming he was just messing around with a spell. He couldn't hold your gaze, and his tells when lying were practically screaming in your face. Theo excused himself quickly when you gave him a very friendly side-hug in thanks, teasingly claiming just how good of a friend he was to you.
"I refuse to tell him until he can be a big boy and use his words."
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"Are you going to Hogsmeade this weekend?" Theo asks, cutting through the welcomed silence as the two of you sit near the Black Lake.
"Mhm," you sound noncommittally. "As I do every time we're permitted to go."
"Right," Theo nods. He's fiddling with a loose string on the blanket the two of you are sitting on. "Wanna go with me?"
Your brows lift slightly, and your eyes flicker to his. "Don't I always?"
"I mean, yes."
"Okay," you say slowly. You pause long enough for him to interject. When he doesn't, you sigh and shake your head. "So I'll meet you at our usual meeting spot."
"Okay."
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"I can pay for myself, Theo."
Theo shakes his head, making quite a scene of pulling out a few sickles and galleons (the price of two butterbeers and a slice of apple pie did not warrant the number of galleons he placed on the table).
"I'm well aware." Theo says, waving off your attempt at tossing in the amount for your share. "But I'm paying for it."
"Then the next one's on me."
"That's not how this works."
"This?"
"Yes."
"What's 'this' then?"
Theo's jaw clenches, and he exhales a breath. "You know what this is."
You did.
After he met you in front of the Ravenclaw common room instead of your usual meeting spot, purchased a book you were eyeing at Tomes and Scrolls, opened all the doors for you, and pulled out your chair for you at the Three Broomsticks (and then sat beside you rather than in front of you), you had a strong inkling of what this day was. But Theo never explicitly asked you or said anything that would allude to being interested romantically, and so you continued the charade. You played dumb.
Your brows furrow, and you blink in convincing bewilderment. "Do I?"
Theo releases a small groan, his hands covering his eyes in defeat. "Gods, you're impossible."
"I'm confused."
"I like you!" Theo blurts, bringing his hands down so he can meet your gaze. His eyes burn with frustration and longing. His cheeks are red, and he's bouncing his left leg as if he'd just heard he needed to face three boggarts at once. "I've been trying to tell you this whole time. The sweets, the quills, the necklace, the book. I even took you out on this bloody date. How do you not know already?"
It took everything in your power not to crack as he finally voiced his feelings. As you watch him take bated breaths, you can't help but erupt into a fit of laughter.
"Merlin," you giggle, wiping the tears from the corner of your eye. "It took you long enough, you bloody goof."
Theo flushes, and you can't tell if he's red because he's embarrassed and confused or if it's because he's seconds away from breathing himself into hyperventilation. You don't let him get to that point (being the gracious and not at all cruel person that you are), as you grab Theo by his collar and pull him in for a kiss.
Theo tastes of butterscotch and syrup, and his lips are soft and hesitant until they're not. He comes to, his hand moving to cup your jaw as he kisses you back.
You pull away from him, beaming at his shell-shocked and pleased expression. "I've known. I just wanted to hear you say it."
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entitled-fangirl · 7 months ago
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One happy marriage.
Benedict Bridgerton x wife!reader
Summary: the reader lies about something important and finally breaks down to tell her husband about it.
Masterlist
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"I have started our marriage with the most audacious lie, Benedict!"
He looked up from his sketchbook with a curious look, "Whatever are you talking about, my dear?"
Y/N covered her mouth with a quiet sob. The lie was eating at her every day and she knew sooner or later the truth would reveal itself. Too bad she revealed it on her own.
Benedict frowned and stood quickly. He raced towards her and sat down cautiously on the sofa next to her. One arm gently pulled her to him, "Darling? I'm sure whatever it is can be forgiven."
She shook her head quickly and spoke through hiccups, "No…. It's unspeakable. Pl… please don't leave me."
This started to worry the poor man.
His hands gently ran up and down her arms, "I promise you, my dear. Whatever has happened, we will be as we are now."
She pulls away from him and wipes her eyes. "I am so sorry, Benedict."
He felt his heart break at the sight of her tears and pleads. "You must tell me what has troubled you this badly."
She shakes her head again, "I don't know if I can."
Benedict sighs.
He was a Bridgerton. And Bridgertons are nothing if not stubborn.
He gently takes her face in his hands. "How then, darling, am I to help fix this issue if I do not know of it?"
She stared up at him. How could she deny him? He was her heart. "I… I have lied to you so dreadfully."
He nods in thought, "Alright?"
She takes a deep breath, "I am an artist."
Benedict's head tilts. "Oh."
She looks up at him to gauge his reaction. "When we were courting, you asked if I was an artist. I said no. I… I lied to you."
He nods again with his lips in a tight line, "Yes. So you did."
She felt awful.
Silence fell over the two before Benedict broke it, "And your work?"
Her head perked up. "My work?"
He gave a slight smirk, "Yes, my dear, your work."
She nodded, "The… the paintings in the parlor… I lied. I do not collect them… I ma... I made all of those."
Benedict smiled widely. A small chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned forward and kissed the crown of her head, "I know."
She stiffened. "What?"
He leaned back and his smile only grew, "I knew, darling. I've always known. I was waiting for you to tell me."
Now it was her turn to feel a bit speechless.
Benedict continued, "I understand why you lied. Those pieces are gorgeous, and the last thing you wanted was your courter... well... your husband... to feel… lowly of his own work-"
"-but your work is lovely, Ben." She quickly interrupted.
"Ah, yes, but not like yours, my dear."
"But how did you know?"
He shrugged, "John Marques is not a real painter." He leaned close to her ear, "And yet, his name is on every plaque in the house."
She let out a laugh so happy, Benedict swore he had never heard one that matched.
She jumped into his lap and held him close.
And he was beyond happy to hold her so near.
He pulled away just to kiss her.
They could feel each other's smiles as their lips pressed together.
She broke away, just close enough to feel his breath on her lips, "And you truly aren't upset at me?"
He laughed, "How could I be? My very own wife, a most talented painter? How on earth could I ever be upset? I'm the happiest husband in the ton!"
Two artists make one happy marriage.
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pearlywritings · 1 year ago
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Sometimes the name doesn't matter
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synopsis: sometimes it matters that you are his wife. PART 2
pairings: Capitano, Kaveh, Tighnari, Zhongli x fem!reader (separately)
tw: fluff, established relationship, hurt/comfort; hybrids, unwelcomed courting, kind of female objectification (all in Tighnari's part)
word count: 6.9k+ words
a/n: part 1 can be read here!
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Capitano
Fast elegant fingers of a pianist run across the keys of black and white and the violins in the hands of other musicians are there to serve together with the chorus of beautiful voices, selected by Lady Columbina personally. The music infiltrates the souls of the nobles present, filling them with the sense of grandeur and glory, touching even their harsh unfeeling hearts.
The atmosphere of the gathering is gratifying, would’ve even been endearing if not for the stately figures of the Harbingers standing on both sides of the throne, where the Tsaritsa would've been seated had she not decided to refrain from attending it altogether. She has more important matters to take care of, and nine of her most loyal servants can definitely fill in her place on that yearly event.
Sure, this year it is more important since the two Harbingers are missing and the seats stay vacant - it's been the talk of the nation. Who is going to be nominated? Can it be influenced? Will they claim the names today?
Is the mysterious Commander, whose arrival became the topic of multiple speculations, be the one? A fierce warrior many heard of, but almost none saw face to face. The man was believed to be as powerful as the 11th Harbinger or maybe even the 10th! Having an army and an establishment of his own on the farthest line of the Snezhnayan border, he still is under the command of Lord Capitano, which makes it even harder to fish any more information than what is already known to the public.
"I only heard about him. He and his troops are protecting our borders from the monster's invasion in the North."
"Ew, who would've wanted to live in the North! It's much harsher than all the Snezhnaya."
"Shush, the Commander is wealthy and respectful, you can bear some cold."
"What do you imply?"
"The Commander is unmarried, there is no way he isn't, not with a life like this. But it can always be changed, and the woman he takes as wife would be one of the luckiest ones!"
"You are right… Maybe he is actually handsome. Maybe he'd be even willing to buy a whole mansion for his promised one and not take her with him to that awful place. Maybe…"
Maybe, maybe, maybe. It travels through the crowds like a storm in its wake, eventually reaching the Harbingers, who, for the first time after appearing and greeting the already arrived, stop resembling the statues. Eyes shift among the people and each other; some gazes hold interest, some - annoyance. Only Pantalone has an ever present smile on his face, fingers clasped in front of him and sapphire rings sparkle in the ballroom light.
"Looks like Capitano's estimated soldier caught everyone's attention. My, my, how curious and nosy the people can be…"
"I understand the curiosity though," admits Childe, arms crossed to prevent laying even a finger on his blade, that is resting on his hip. "This person sounds like an interesting specimen… I've heard of his talents in both strategy and tactics, and it seems like his strength is a legend. I'd love to spar with him."
"Oh you, thinking only about fights, young man," Pulcinella disapprovingly shakes his head and raises his cane to point in the gingerhead's direction. "I highly doubt our guest will have time to spare, considering the period of time concerning the stay that was mentioned in the letter we received."
"And I believe the majority of that time would be spent with Il Capitano, isn't it right?" Columbina's soft voice must be drowning in the music, but everyone hears her loud and clear.
"..." The Harbinger stays silent and nothing can be read from his body language since he is the only one remaining still in his place, his huge looming figure resembling one of the full-set armor nobles like putting in their halls as a part of interior. Except this one isn't empty.
"So much potential to become my test subject, to be perfected... Yet lost to the lands of Northern regions," Dottore huffs in disappointment, his sharp teeth peaking when he clicks his tongue. "Say, Pierro, can't things be rearranged? I'd happily have our dear border protector as my underling."
The silence between the nine suddenly becomes thick. There is something indescribably tense in the air and only Childe can't understand why some of his colleagues seem to be more interested in how the Captain would react and not the 1st of the Harbingers..
"You know why this can't be rearranged, Dottore," the stare of an icy blue eye would pin everyone to the ground, destroying their will and order to obey, though doing little to scare the Doctor. "And it was favored by the Tsaritsa herself."
The finality of the short statement makes the scientist back down from the proposition he's been bringing up every time the topic touches the Commander, yet ending up the same way as always - with an ultimate rejection.
Three heavy thuds make everyone in the room fall silent. Many heads turn to look at the ceremonial staff hitting the floor the last time and staying still in the hand of a tall, thoroughly dressed man.
"The protector of the Northern border, the glorified and esteemed warrior of Her Majesty Tsaritsa, The Commander has arrived," the master's of ceremonies voice carries like a thunderclap, cutting off the quite leisurely music the orchestra was playing for the dances and entertainment.
The rustle of note sheets is fleeting and not a moment later the musicians straighten in their seats, taking a deep breath. Trumpets boom in a spacious room and make nobles shiver in surprise, some especially susceptible women even lean on their partners for support. The choir and the violins join the triumphant song the brass instruments sing, signaling that the time has come.
Everyone holds their breath as the tall heavy doors leading to the ballroom are being pulled open. Everyone has their gaze glued to a slowly growing gap. Everyone keeps their eyes wide open, afraid that even one blink can cost them missing the legendary sight.
Everyone gasps.
The tall figure enters, posture straight and shoulders squared, confidence evident in every step. Black satin clothes are adorned with golden chains and intricate patterns. The white military coat stayed resting on the shoulders - showing off the position, the closeness to the Harbingers. And then there is the face - a scar crossing the left brow, calm bored eyes, not sparing anyone a glance, which do not fit the other female features of your face.
Yes, the Commander happens to be a woman.
Stopping by the steps leading to the throne, you bow - not kneel, bow, - holding your open palm by the heart and respectfully closing your eyes. Music stops.
“Greetings, my lords. Let Tsaritsa bless you and your mission.”
“Let Tsaritsa bless you and your service to her,” Pierro says, raising his hand. “Lift your head,” which you do, looking him right in the eyes, yet still holding your hand by the chest. “There is time for duties and there is time for entertainment. And tonight, given your rare visits to the capital, I suggest you enjoy the latter.”
“Much obliged, Lord Pierro.”
And with a wave of the older man’s hand, the orchestra starts a new composition, waking up the ones who were in a daze, reminding others they are here for drama.
And the first one to take action is the 11th Harbinger.
“Commander, Sir- I mean, Lady?” The gingerhead is the closest to you out of all his colleagues, having only to descend a few steps to be on your level. “I’ve heard a lot about you, many admirable things. How do you look at sparring?”
“Right in the middle of a ballroom? Quite positively, young man,” your lips twist in a half-smirk, baring a sharp pearly canine. “But I believe the nobles have already had enough shock to take and rumors to create. Maybe another time. Haven’t seen you before though. Are you new?”
“Tartaglia, the Eleventh Harbinger, Lady Commander.”
“Ma’am would be enough,” you click your tongue, glancing behind and noticing how slowly, but surely some of the aristocrats are inching towards you, clearly interested in conversation, Well, you are not. “On second thought, starting a duel right now and here doesn’t sound like a bad idea…”
“I’ve always known you are quite insane,” Arlechino butts her way in the conversation, giving you only a small nod as a greeting. You simply glance at her.
“For years I’ve been hearing of my insanity, think of something new,”
“How about, ‘the one who knows no limits’?” Pantalone’s smile is as dazzling as it’s fake and sometimes your hands are itching to strangle the man. Maybe even go all the way out and bite his head off. Literally.
“The only ones who know no limits are the wind and the stupidity. I’m neither. Who I am though,” your gaze travels higher, to the steps closest to the Tsaritsa’s throne, to there Pierro and the first three Harbingers are standing, “is a wife. And I’d like to have a dance with my husband.”
Not many heard your words, but the ones who did, gasp loudly, staring at you with wide eyes. Which get even wider when Il Capitano, a seemingly motionless statue before, turns in his place and, without a pause, steadily descends to you. Now, as you are standing so closely it becomes evident how obviously your outfits match. The chains, the patterns, even the precious stones - everything. Perhaps it is terrifyingly cute. Perhaps it's cutely terrifying.
“Husband,” your smile again, offering him your hand, which he immediately envelopes in his big clawed one.
“Wife,” is the first word the big figure rumbles for the evening, the void of its helmet staring at you. And that’s all you speak to each other, hearing the beginning of another melody and turning to join the dancing pairs.
“...What was that?” Childe voices what’s been plaguing the minds of the attendees. “First the Commander appears to be a woman, and now she is married to the Lord Il Capitano?” He glances at Pulcinella, who joins his side and decides to watch the pair that caused a commotion have their fun. “Do they not use their names?”
“They find no sense in them,” the Rooster answers just the last question. “And,” he lowers his voice and the ginger has to bend down to hear the next words, “I didn’t tell you that, but the Captain really loves calling her his wife. So be quite cautious while seeking a fight with her. You might end up impaled. By either of them.”
Kaveh
With a soft smile you watch a group of children merrily leaving their classroom, interrupting each other in attempts to tell everyone how exciting the lesson was. They do not forget to grin and wave at you, passing by, and you return the sentiment, contently observing their happy faces and sparkly eyes.
Every time this happens, a strange sense of fulfillment overtakes you - supporting and sponsoring Kaveh was one of the best decisions you’ve ever made. The greatest architect of nowadays is offering his guidance to the young generation, teaching them everything about beauty and practicality, helping them to develop their own creative vision, and at the same time boosting the confidence of kids of all ages. And you couldn’t be prouder of him.
Him, who meticulously prepares for every single lesson. Him, who is oh-so-gentle with his words and precise in his speech. Him, who teaches both Sumeru citizens and people coming from abroad. Him, who is as passionate about it, as he is about his designing job, telling you every single detail of how the lessons went on your way home or over the dinner. Him, who is happy and who makes you happy too with that fact alone.
When the last kid leaves, marking the ending of the final class for today, you glance at the clock. Now Mister Meticulousness will need half an hour to tidy up the classroom and put all the tools away. Tomorrow is free from classes at his (he always corrects your as in the both of you) school, so you can collect your stuff as well - after all, being the manager of this establishment and Kaveh specifically requires your presence. You can be strict and unyielding whenever he can’t and this partnership proves to be successful every day.
Just as you are writing down some financial staff, there is a soft knock on the doorframe. Immediately lifting your eyes you hum, observing a very good-looking woman and a boy, shyly holding onto her hand.
“Hello, how can I help you?” With a quill laid on top of your accounting book, you stand and round the table, offering the two to step closer.
“Ah, hello, miss…” eyes with long, pretty lashes flit to the name tag attached to your clothes, “...Y/n. This is master Kaveh’s artistic school, am I correct?”
“Yes, you are. Are you here to sign your boy up for a class?” You offer her son a sweet smile and he answers you with a small lift of his lips.
“Mhm. You see, he is a big fan of master Kaveh and his works - can study the pictures of his designs taken by Kamera day and night.”
At that, the boy lowers his gaze and blushes a little, digging a hole in the ground with the tip of his shoe.
“Oh, really?” A gasp that escapes your chest is one of excitement. “That’s marvelous! I am sure your hopefully soon-to-be-teacher will be very interested in hearing your opinion of his works, young connoisseur,” he giggles, lifting his eyes at you again, and there you see undisguised delight. “Oh, but my bad, I didn’t ask your names…”
The woman’s lips bare two rows of perfectly white teeth as she smiles at you, introducing herself and her son.
“We are from Fontaine actually. But my parents wanted to spend some indefinite period of time in Sumeru for their health and we decided to join them. So while we are here, I thought I’d make my son’s dream come true.”
“That’s so nice of you,” you can’t help but admire her a little for that. “I can tell you first a little about our school, you’ll ask all the questions you need to, and then I’ll show you around. Kaveh should be done with cleaning by then, so there’s a big chance you’ll even talk to him personally.”
“Really!?” That’s the first time throughout your entire interaction when the boy opens his mouth and actually makes a sound. “Master Kaveh is here right now?”
“He is. But can’t promise a long conversation - there are still blueprints waiting for him back at home.
“Ah, right… He is the great architect after all,” the woman hums, staring to the side as if in thought. “Between the commissions he takes and this school he must be making good money. Not to mention so handsome…”
Oh… What a familiar tone, what a familiar look in those eyes. Suddenly that ounce of respect you felt for her disappears.
“Money is irrelevant to him as long as he reaches his goal,” is your restrained response. 
“Ah, of course! Handsome, sweet, kind, good with kids and is not a snob. Sweety, you ought to charm him for me!” She pinches her son’s cheek. “Imagine Master Kaveh as your daddy!”
Oh Archons, again?
There is absolutely no doubt that the light of Kshahrewar is not only well-known and popular among kids, but is thirsted after by women. In a half of a year your school has been existing, there were numerous times when moms of little students made comments alike or some single females trying to schedule private sessions with the architect. What a sagacious decision it was to make group studying only, it saves you some drama, once the legal document is shown. Though there are exceptionally persistent examples…
But this time you pity the kid a little, because he genuinely seems to admire Kaveh. And his next words make you internally cheer for the little guy.
“Master Kaveh as my dad? But mom, I have a dad already,” the boy pouts, rubbing at the pinched cheek. You notice a red mark and two little crescent moons that her nails left on a tender skin. “I love him and don’t need another one.”
“Sweety, you just don’t understand how great it would be to have such a dad! Just trust my word-”
“Ahem, Madame, I kindly ask you to deal with your family affairs once you are out of here. As for the school - I am open for discussion.”
The displeased way she glances at you doesn’t go unnoticed, but you do not show it anyhow, calmly staring back at her, while your hand reaches up to your chest. As if finally remembering her initial reason for coming here with her son, the woman sighs and puts a palm on the boy’s shoulder.
“Of course, miss- I’m sorry I forgot your name…” And her eyes flit to the name tag again.
Momentarily the woman squints from the light reflecting on the metal, and when she blinks the bright spots away, there is a beautiful golden ring on your hand. The hand that is holding the flipped tiny plate with just two words engraved in it.
"Kaveh's wife"
With widened eyes she stares back at your sweetly polite smile. Not saying a word as if letting the notion sink in, you walk to the wall. Grabbing the backs of two chairs you drag them to your table so they could sit, and take your rightful place in front of them. 
“If you are here for something aside from or instead of signing your son up for classes, I believe my name should be irrelevant to you. My status though,” you knock a nail twice on the badge, “must. So… what are you here for, Madame?”
The boy climbs onto his chair right away, while his mother tarries a little, still shocked by the revealed fact and your suddenly changed demeanor. She needs a couple more seconds to compose herself, but eventually she too sits down.
Despite what happened earlier, your conversation proves to be fruitful and fifteen minutes later you are showing around the school, sharing some additional information and answering every single of the kid’s questions. 
When in the last room you find your husband, closing Mehrak and looking ready to leave, the boy lets out a gasp. The sound attracts the man’s attention, and he turns to the three of you with a soft smile.
“Oh, hello there, little guy!” The blond waves at him, breaking the blissful stupor of a child that immediately turns red and hides behind his mother. Surprised, Kaveh looks at you for explanation but, instead, takes notice of your name’s replacement. Oh wow, this again. What was the last time you did that? Two weeks ago?
“Ah, Master Kaveh!” The woman charmingly smiles, batting her lashes at him, which would’ve made you cringe had it never happened before. “You see, my son-”
“Pardon me, Madame, give me a moment,” the male softly interrupts her and reaches for a similar metal plate on his chest with his own name to flip it. It’s almost comical how sour the temptress’s face got in a second.
And there is what for. Now two words are proudly matching yours, engraved in an equally beautiful cursive to remind the world who the two of you become once stripped of your names.
Just his ”Y/n’s husband” to your “Kaveh’s wife”.
And like that one more kid takes part in your lovely school and one suitor less is after one of its founders.
Tighnari
With each passing day of your team’s research in the desert you found it harder and harder to control yourself. Some days you were even on the verge of clawing and biting, tail and ears twitching in annoyance and pupils turning into wild slits, making your hybrid nature more obvious.
Was it because of the research? No, it couldn’t be farther - your colleagues have been making so much progress, heeding your advice and following your lead. Was it the location perhaps? A little, but you learnt how to deal with heat and dryness. Was the process taking too much time? On the contrary, you are on your way home already, having finished the job 4 days earlier than you estimated in the beginning.
Then what on earth could possibly trigger you like this?
Well…
“Hey, forest foxy, want me to catch the Consecrated Flying Serpent for you?”
Ah yes, him.
Never again will you trust the higher ups at the Akademiya to sponsor your team with the bodyguards. Out of every possible candidate, your Herbad-titled colleague concluded that hiring five descendants of Valuka Shuna would be a marvelous idea. 
“They are the desert kind - they’ll be good guides.” “Look how much stronger they are, they’ll definitely protect all of you.” “They are of the same kind as you, Y/n. Don’t you think it’ll be easier for you, as the leader, to have someone akin with you?”
No, it absolutely would not!
Desert fennec hybrids are different from the forest ones - and it’s not even the case of your green and their sandy brown fur or their more brutal physique against your more delicate one. It’s their character and world perception. You’ll never call them barbarians, but they really developed more of the animal nature than your kind did.
And from day one it was a pain in the butt. 
One of your five new bodyguards was clearly the leader - he was bigger and broodier, with more scars littering his body, and his whole stance was screaming of a higher position. When you were introduced for the first time, something lit up in his grayish eyes, which were looking you over appreciatively. You ignored that, more focused on the discussion of the upcoming expedition and making sure the five were aware of what was required of them.
Luckily they were, and, admittedly, they did fulfill their task meticulously, proving to be great help. If only one of them wasn’t so diligent.
You lost count of how many times the leader tried to get into your personal space and you had to move away. Of the numerous invitations to hunt together. Of the endless displays of his strength and abilities. Of the many conversations you didn’t even try to eavesdrop on (they talked pretty loudly) around the topic of when will your shell be cracked and you’d accept the male’s courting attempts.
The answer was obvious, but he just never got it. Even when you called him for a serious conversation on the turning-into-an-issue matter.
“With all respect I must ask you to stop with whatever you’ve been doing to woo me. I have a husband.”
You still remember how he blinked at you dumbly, clear lack of understanding written on the sun-kissed face.
“...and?”
“The heck do you mean ‘and’?”
“Well, you don’t have a mate?”
It was your turn to stare at him speechless, ear twitching and tail curling closer to your legs. It was getting worse than just ridiculous.
“If we are speaking in such terms, then my husband is my mate. So, please-”
You nearly gasped when the male immediately leant closely, violating your personal space and practically stuffing his nose against your neck. Shocked by such lack of shame, you lost the ability to talk or move for a moment, gaping at him sniffing around and humming upon the discovery.
“You don’t wear anyone’s smell on you.”
You were not proud of yourself at that moment, but you absolutely lost it. Sharpened claws dug into his chest and with an angry snarl you pushed him back.
“Get away from me!”
You must’ve been a sight - canines bared and fingers twitching, ready to attack; fur standing on both your ears and tail, signaling your distress and eyes slitted in pure rage while directed at the man in front of you. The worst part? The idiot seemed to like it even more.
“What me and my partner do must be of no concern to you. I told you ‘no’ and I mean it.”
But bold of you was to assume he’d stop. Oh no, it’s gotten worse. Now he was actively calling you a ‘forest foxy’, absolutely abandoning your name and even trying to scent you. It was suffocating - the desert aridity was lighter in comparison to the male hybrid’s pheromones. 
Never in all your academic practice have you wanted to return home so badly.
Fortunately, your colleagues quickly caught on to what was going on and always helped you to escape the unwanted interactions. Plus they were equally as mad as you were, because his individual scent irritated their human noses - and that was the main reason why you and Tighnari, both spending a lot of time around other people, did not practice it. Partly, you are sure, this whole situation was the reason for your earlier return - and you were grateful for their understanding.
However, your stubborn suitor did not dream of giving up. Killed desert animals were still offered to you, stories of his legendary battles with monsters were told for the hundredth time (even though no one was interested in listening at that point) and attempts to lure you with the musky smell once again made. Archons, and the green-furred fennec girls from your teens used to dream of that.
Maybe Lesser Lord Kusanali would be merciful and you’ll meet your husband somewhere on your way?
“Herbad Y/n!”
…wow, that was quick. Not Tighnari, but incredibly welcome too.
“Collei!” For the first time in days there is a reason for your soft smile. Which the young girl mirrors, waving at you from not so far away. You notice a couple more of the Forest Rangers at her side, and that sight alone makes you finally exhale in relief. You are so close to being home.
“Master is here too! Want me to get him?”
Oh, Dendro Archon, thank you.
“I’d really appreciate it, dear!” With a quick nod the green-haired apprentice disappears in the bushes, and you turn back to the scholars of your group. It’s time to abuse your power a little. “We are almost at the Devadaha Pool. Since all of you live in Sumeru City I hope you’ll excuse me for staying behind. As for you five,” your gaze moves to the bodyguards and it’s so hard not to rejoice - soon they’ll be just a memory, “I ask you to accompany the rest of my team to the Akademiya. Then you can consider your job done and be free. Keep the payment for the last three days that didn’t happen - think of it as a bonus for a good job.”
All but one eagerly nod and bid you farewell with wishes of getting home safely. And frankly speaking? You couldn’t care less for that one when you spot familiar and oh so dear big pointy ears with an intricate golden earring adorning one of them.
“Tighnari!” You didn’t want to sound so desperate, you really didn’t. But when those forest-like lovely eyes look in your direction, it becomes clear to you - the yearning has gotten unbearable.
“Y/n…” His smile is dazzling and the way his body immediately pushes to walk to you almost makes the memories of the last weeks’ events go away.
The key word - almost.
Someone grabs your elbow when you want to meet him halfway. Oh right, you already forgot about him.
“Let me go, you, imbecile!” And again you have to snarl and be rude, ripping your arm out of the strong hold and quickly darting into your husband’s embrace. The natural smell of the leaves, the flowers, the sweet and bitter concoctions he makes in his home laboratory, comfort you and your whole body goes nearly limp in his hold. It’s been weeks and you are tired of fighting with the brick wall - this time you want your lover to handle it for you.
“Y/n, my lotus, are you alright?” Gentle fingers comb through your hair and scratch at the base of your ears - a whole ass adult, that you are, wants to tear up. But you can only shake your head a no. “Has this man been bothering you?” This time it’s a yes. “I got you, dear.”
“So,” the browny green eyes sharpen upon staring at the cause of your current state, when it starts speaking, “you are that ‘husband’ the foxy has been talking about? I thought you’d be stronger. Or at least taller. Now I see that I was right and you really can’t be her mate.”
“Oh but I am. Not that we have to prove anything to a stranger. Y/n,” he carefully pries your face from his shoulder, caressing your cheek with a beanie pad, “let’s go home. You must be so-so tired.”
“I am, ‘nari. I am exhaus-”
“There’s no smell of you on her and vice versa,” the desert descendent of the Valuka Shuna seems to not be planning to stop. “Her neck is not marked. You let her wander by herself for weeks? And you keep calling her by the name. Her name should've stopped mattering once she became your mate!”
The hand around your waist tenses and you can feel the claws threatening to tear through the gloves he always wears. You don’t need to look at the face of your lover to know how pissed he is. And if Tighnari decides to attack him and tear his tongue out? You will not stop him.
“I am going to say it once and only once. She is not just a mate, she is my wife, by the Sumeru law and by the blessing of the Dendro Archon. And this fact must matter to you more than the case of her name. So fuck off and leave my wife alone. And if you don’t get it in a civil way - this woman is taken. And this territory is mine.”
With that, the Forest Watcher effortlessly lifts you in his arms and, holding you as if a precious bride, turns around to leave. You haven’t looked back once.
“You can’t imagine how much I missed being called your wife,” you quietly confess, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Especially after he didn’t listen when I said that I am.”
Tighnari hums sympathetically, leaning close to rub his nose against yours.
“Will it be okay then if today I address you as my wife only? When we join the other rangers, I mean.” 
”...if you think I will be embarrassed - make it a whole week.”
With a soft chuckle your husband plants a kiss on your lips, sealing the deal and promising you tranquil days at last.
“As you wish, wife.”
Zhongli
"...and so Rex Lapis takes the form of a dragon, a majestic creature he was born as - the one of whom the fair maiden would never be scared of. Lady Guizhong's robes flutter in the tender wind traveling among the mountain peaks and caressing the earthly scales of the God's enormous body. His eyes, shiny as gold, gaze at her with an unfamiliar softness as she holds a gentle flower - a delicate gift from her lover, the one that proves that under all that armor is a stone heart capable of love. Heart that is beating for her."
To loud applause the Iron Tongue Tian bows his head, drawing the legend of the gods in love to its end. You cannot bring yourself to clap even politely, both hands on your lap, hidden under the table, twitching when a man beside you lets his gloved palms meet each other a couple of times.
It’s the second time you had to sit and endure the baloney from the very beginning to the very end, not to count all those times you overheard it in passing. From the moment you settled in the Liyue Harbor together with your husband, to live the rest of your incredibly long lives together among the humans, you've been painfully aware of their interpretation of Rex Lapis and his relationship with other immortal beings. Before that you rarely accompanied him during the walks, busy with helping Yakshas and other adepti protect the said humans to grant them a peaceful life - as immortal guardians grew fewer, every single one counted.
Never have you ever imagined that knowing so little of the citizens’ folklore would backfire so hard. It seems that people got somewhat bored listening to the stories of Liyue and Rex Lapis, no matter how many interpretations existed. Literature became more diverse in genres and romantic novels were on top of the list, so street narrators started losing their audience little by little. Before it could grow into something more drastic the new side of history was presented to the public - stories about love among immortals appeared and its freshness and uniqueness caught people’s attention immediately.
In their searches for new material, speakers dug through hundreds of volumes. The main interest was the Lord of Geo, of course. If you have a story of a presumably stone-hearted creature ever having fallen in love with someone - that’s pure gold! But who could you present as a love interest of the Archon? It must be someone very close to him and, obviously, no one is more well-known for that than the deceased Archon of Dust.
You sigh, reaching for your cup and declining Madam Ping’s offer to pour you some more tea - for an unclear reason the fellow adeptus joined you two tonight. You have thousands of years of life behind your existence, a soul hardened by constant battles, and mannerism as polished as a jade statue, yet for a moment you feel concerned that the woman would notice a pang of hurt in the smallest of your features.
Zhongli definitely noticed the first time. It was meant to be a date night - simple, but sweet, with the evening lights, delightful aroma of the finest tea and the tales pouring from skilled tongues reflecting the atmosphere of what your nation really is. However, the luck of the land of trades wasn’t on your side, as someone requested the “Guili legend” as they called it. At first you were confused. Then in disbelief, almost turning to look at your mate, with whom you were bonded long before he became allies with the ash-haired woman. In the end you felt something you thought was beyond you - bitterness.
When you left the restaurant, slowly walking back to your house, Zhongli’s fingers gently touched your elbow, asking for your attention.
“Does it bother you that much, my love?”
Bother you? Well… It does feel insulting when someone speaks of your husband having been in love with someone else, but mortals can’t possibly know the truth for many reasons.
“I can’t say it doesn’t,” you admitted calmly, stopping and turning fully to him. He did the same, gazing at you with a hint of worry in those golden eyes you loved so much. The ones, you knew, always looked only at you. “But it can’t be helped, right? There was a reason and mutual agreement why you, as Rex Lapis, made our union unknown to your people, and now, since you are “dead”? There is no one to tell our story. Don’t worry though,” you put a hand on top of his and smiled, when his other one was laid on top of yours in a gesture of comfort. “I can deal with it. I know you love going to the storyteller’s performances. I’ll just try to ignore what they say about you and Lady Guizhong.”
Sometimes Zhongli thinks he does not deserve you. Ever so patient and understanding, you always had your husband's best interest at heart. Marriage, however, in its basis is a form of a contract, and a good contract is all about both sides being equal in everything. And if you must know one thing about Rex Lapis - he never makes bad contracts.
When the audience calms down, the man decides to make his presence and intentions clear by raising a hand. From the corner of his eye he notices you slightly turning your head to glance at him, and he catches a glimpse of puzzlement in your gaze. He can't help but think how adorable you are, even if you deny it again and again, claiming that nothing can be adorable about a several millennia-old warrior. Maybe not, but his wife definitely is, and he thinks with a primordial pride igniting in his chest, that mating with you was the best decision his past self had ever made.
Reaching under the table he rests his free hand on top of yours, gently squeezing it in reassurance, offering you the warmth of himself, seeping through his glove. Just as your shoulders relax to his delight, the raised hand adorned with rings is finally noticed.
"Ah, Mr Zhongli! Such an honor to see a regular, especially someone as wise as yourself!" Iron Tongue Tian beams with a wide smile, closing his fan and focusing his full attention on the history connoisseur. "I doubt you have questions, given your vast knowledge, and I can't wait to hear what else you can add to this already heart-felt story."
You force your lips not to twitch, hiding behind the tea cup again. Suddenly it tastes bitter. But another squeeze your husband gives your hand doesn't let you dwell on it too much.
"You are correct, I do have some knowledge to offer. However, it might disappoint you, as it will completely destroy the story of the Geo Archon and the Archon of Dust."
The whispers ran through the crowd like a powerful wave, and you can see confusion written over every single face. But also, there is intrigue.
"I took it upon myself,” Zhongli however continues, “to invite Madame Ping to back up my story, as she was the witness to it," the elder woman - a well-known Adeptus that doesn't hide her existence among mortals - nods with a soft smile.
"I read this in legends a long time ago, but remembered only when the 'Guili legend' became popular. Rex Lapis indeed had a lover, however it was not Lady Guizhong," the gasps are almost deafening. Just as your quickened heartbeat.
And for the next hour the man by your side and the elderly-looking woman that joined you tonight proceed to tell the story of the adeptus, who was the first and only to ever bring the Geo Archon to his knees, to be worshiped like a goddess by his eyes, by his words, by his very heart. Of a warrior, whose fierce eyes and valiant nature made a dragon in Rex Lapis roar in delight. Of the woman, who entranced him with her beauty, caring soul and motherly attention directed to other adepti - Madame Ping adds with a laugh of how the two created a parent-like dynamic even before they became official (at that you find it so hard not to turn bashful).
They tell the legend of the silk flowers - the ones you might see everywhere in the vast lands of Liyue. How the Geo Archon personally asked the Dendro Archon for guidance to cultivate the tenderest of flowers, how he taught his people to make the delicate fabric out of it, but even then it couldn’t compare to the skin of his immortal mate.
They tell stories of how annoyed she was when the god turned into a dragon to fall asleep somewhere in the depths of the earth for years without telling her prior, and how he returned with the purest stones and metals and with his own hands forged the pair of matrimonial rings (yes, the ones wrapped around your fingers to this day).
Madame Ping fondly speaks of all those thousands of years of protection the said adeptus spent to make sure that her godly spouse’s people were safe and maybe just a tiny sliver of pride rushes through your heart at the public acknowledgement.
“But she wished not to be known,” the woman sighs and you know she glances at you reproachfully. Well-deserved, given the circumstances you are in right now. “Thus it’s not much of a surprise people made a mistake like that. Besides, you won’t find much information in written sources about her either way.”
 “But she must have a name at least!” Someone from the fairly grown crowd exclaims.
“That she does,” Zhongli nods, lacing his fingers with yours under the table, lips tugging in a calm smile, when you squeeze his hand in return. “Though I am afraid it would be pointless to try and find out now - we wouldn’t want to disturb her mourning the departure of her husband, would we? After all, they must’ve loved each other so much.”
“But how can you be so sure?”
“Because,” golden eyes are on you, catching yours, pulling you in, whispering for your soul and heart to get lost in them, “I can understand how this love was born and got to bloom. My wife showed me that.”
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morverenmaybewrites · 1 month ago
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wait r we allowed to send these in for characters u write for? :o
cuz i’m curious abt this one “What freaks them out the most in a relationship?” for jason
Yes, please do!
"What freaks them out most in a relationship?"| Jason Todd
Honestly, I think Jason Todd is afraid to love again, simply because of the way he loves. He tends to love wholeheartedly, without reservation, often to the point of self-destruction.
Remember that this is the man who endured at least six months worth of torture just so he wouldn't betray his father. Not a lot of people are capable of that sort of loyalty. 
To add insult to injury, it's very likely that he never got to experience any sort of positive reinforcement when it comes to loving a person.
In my Arkham fanfics, Jason's father was an abusive drunk and his mother was a junkie. While he learned to avoid his father, I'd like to think that he did hold some sort of love for his mother. He tried, in his own way, to take care of her, keep her safe.
He'd put a blanket over her when she was lost in her heroine-dreams, he'd wipe the drool from the side of her mouth, he'd leave stolen food next to her sweat-stained mattress for when she woke up. And all it ever got Jason, I imagine, was an absent-minded sort of affection. Perhaps she'd give him a vague smile, her eyes bloodshot and glassy, as if she wasn’t really seeing him, perhaps she'd ruffle his hair.
And for a long time, he'd think that was love.
Something rare, something small, but something that kept him warm all the same (for East End was a cold place), and he'd sip it like rainwater between his cupped palms, because it was all he'd ever known.
But then he gets adopted, and suddenly his perspective changes. 
Love, he realizes, can be patient. It can be his father Bruce, who somehow never got angry at him during those early days, when hope had warmed the inside of his chest like a swallowed star.
Love can be easy, he learns. It can be something as simple as Alfred, waiting up for him after a long rainy night, bringing him towels that were somehow always warm. It can be warm soup on the days that he woke up with a sore throat and a fever burning through his skin (and even to this day, he marvels at the idea that in Wayne Manor, food can come so easily--without stealing, without a fight).
But, he'll also tragically learn (or so he thinks) that love has to be earned.
I've always had this idea (and I stand by it) that Bruce did love his kids, deeply. But because of his own issues, he couldn’t love them in a way that they needed to be loved (and isn’t that true of most parents?).
It is the way Bruce never smiled at him when he was Robin. 
It is long nights of training just for a hint of his father’s approval. 
It is the constant comparison to another son, one who is faster, smarter, and better in every way. 
It is the way he thinks–and becomes terrified–that if he doesn’t earn his place in Wayne Manor, if he doesn’t earn his father’s love, he will be back in that cold place in East End where nothing can ever keep him warm again. 
And then Joker happens.
And then Joker happens. 
And no matter how strong he tried to be, how silent, no matter how much he tried to endure. 
He breaks (clean in two, a crack so wide it will never heal, you can trace the fractured seam of him and find the exact place where his heart was broken). 
Even worse, Batman breaks: he leaves Jason for dead (or so he thinks).
And a part of him will always think: is it enough? Was I not enough? 
Was it not enough to endure? To stay silent? To keep his father’s secrets?
Had Jason somehow, through some fault in his won, not done enough to earn being loved, being saved?
(Is he always going to be that small child in East End, and all he will ever know of it are vague smiles through bloodshot, glassy eyes? Was this his punishment for hoping for more? He can drink and drink and it will never be enough, the rainwater will always slip through his palms). 
And then there’s you. 
And at first he thinks it’s easy (as easy as warm soup on days when he’s feeling sick, as easy as a towel after a night in the rain), because you are brave and reckless and you are quite pretty when you smile. And it has been so long since he’s had a friend. 
It’s easy because you’re easy to be with: you read into his silences, you calm him down when he falters and you are braver than he gives you credit for (and there are days when he wishes that you are less brave). 
It is easy until one day, Jason realizes what’s happening and the first thing he thinks is that he can’t go through this again. 
He cannot be that child in East End, who follows his mother for crumbs of her affection like a dog starving for scraps.
He cannot be the boy in the Batcave, practicing over and over just so he’ll finally get to see his father’s smile
He cannot be Robin in Arkham Asylum, with a bullet hole in his chest and a brand burning on his face
And yet, and yet, Jason does not know any other way to love. 
He does not know of any other way it does not end in tragedy (and hurt and pain and betrayal). 
Oh, he is terrified. He thinks he fears you more than any other living thing in Gotham. 
To love you, he thinks, is to give you the chance to destroy him all over again. 
And he can’t, he can’t go through that again. 
(But oh, there are days Jason thinks you will be worth it.). 
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hanasnx · 1 month ago
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“ YOU GOT A FETISH FOR MY LOVE, I PUSH YOU OUT AND YOU COME RIGHT BACK ” — anakin skywalker.
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MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: if this counts for kinktober, i'm saying the kink is begging. WARNINGS: ex!anakin ノ fem reader ノ mild angst ノ established relationship ノ size difference ノ sexual content: some p in v stuff ノ pathetic begging anakin.
All of your relationships leading up to this point had resolutely ended. There were no loose ends, and nothing worth sacrificing your self-respect for. You'd cut them off, or burn the bridge if you had to, just to ensure you couldn't backslide on your decision. It's an incredible trust to place in yourself, and a little lonely. No matter how much your heart ached for the person you separated from, you would not reach out, and you'd make it pretty clear you didn't want to hear from them either. One exception stands before you now, that familiar crease in EX!ANAKIN SKYWALKER's brow as he demands to be let inside.
"It can't end like this." A statement that leaves no room for argument. One of the reasons you called it quits in the first place is dating a general doesn't feel like dating, it just feels like taking orders. "Do you have any idea what I've done for you? What I've sacrificed?" he admonishes incredulously, taking up the space of your doorway as stand your ground.
"Anakin- leave." you command. You know he's just here to pick a fight, to see if he can break your spirit with guilt-tripping manipulations. It's hard to feel large against a towering figure like General Skywalker, but you're bold enough to try to. Even if he can sweep you out of his way with an arm, you block his entrance with your body.
"You stubborn girl. You don't understand anything, do you?" he spits, the deep lines of his scowl drawing shadows that cascade his expression to a near unrecognizable degree. If you didn't know him, you'd fear for your safety.
"I told you to go!" you cry, jabbing your finger over his shoulder to signal him to turn around.
He advances, forcing you to arch away. "You don't mean that!" His voice is a lot louder than yours, and it carries. The frown in your brow relaxes as your eyes widen in response to his outburst. In a way, it's a keen reading. If it combats the loneliness of your self-sabotaging nature, you wish you'd let yourself invite him to stay. However, your pride has gotten you this far, and you don't want to appear weak. Perhaps, you don't want him to go, but it's the right thing to do.
You've been through so much together, and you're sure that he only holds onto you so tightly because you're all he's ever known when it comes to romantic entanglements. If he had been more experienced when you'd met him, he wouldn't have such passionate outrage about being refused.
He's the only one who's chased you so closely while you ran away. Retreating from intimacy, retreating from love, he's the only one who's seen right through you, and demanded you anyway.
"Anakin, you should go." you whisper against his lips as he backs you up deeper into your apartment. Eager hands curtly whip your clothes from your body, careful not to disrupt the connection of your mouths, recycling breath between you.
"Please, don't say that—You don't mean that." he murmurs, the vulnerability of being rejected laced into his plea. Your hands suspended in air from shock come to rest on his leather padding, helping him out of his robing like you've done a thousand times before. It's like a dance, the way your figures move fluidly, retracing the steps, how he backs you up against the wall as he slips his tongue between your lips, tilting his head to reach you as you're less than cooperative. The taste of him intoxicates you, coaxing your own tongue to smooth over his, and he expels a pleasant noise through his nose. His fingers splay on your shoulders, keeping you in place while staying at an uncharacteristic distance. It's as if he's begging for you with his body, showing you he'll do whatever it takes to prove to you his devotion, his love. Kiss him without touching places he's not allowed to touch anymore.
Part of you wishes he'd get over that, and in a fit of impatience, you place them for him, tracing them over the curves of your bare figure.
Herding you to the bedroom you once shared, his hand comes to cup the nape of your neck, pinning you to him as he delves his tongue deeper. You've never had anyone kiss you like Anakin, and if you didn't care for him it would be unpleasant. The impatient plunge of an inexperienced lover still laces the way he makes out with you, and it's clingy, it's forceful, it's desperate. At its end, he sucks your bottom lip between his, dragging it through his teeth. Plump, wet, and pink he speaks against yours, hushed and hurried. "Say you love me." he breathes—another plea, delicately concealed.
"Say you love me." he asks again, holding your gaze while he enters you. The fragile flinch of his softened features endears you, reintroducing his sex to yours as if its his first time—like the sensation is just too much, evidenced by the hitch in his throat when he questions you.
He sinks to the hilt over and over again, using his own hands to wrap your legs around his hips, keeping you close in embrace. He squeezes his eyes shut, grunting through his mouth from effort as he buys your love with his body, begs for your attention through his pitying ministrations. "Say you love me." he pleas one more time. "Please- please, I need you. Even if you don't mean it, even if you hate me... just... just..."
You bite hard into your lip, trying to think your way through the pleasure coursing through your veins. Skin hot and mind occupied, you clutch onto him as if he grounds you. In the dull light of the room, you find his eyes again, glossy and bloodshot. You palm his cheek, and his face softens. "I love you." you concede. The wall you've put up begins to dismantle.
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hollyoongs · 2 months ago
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I'm seeing the pain, seeing the pleasure Nobody but you, 'body but me 'Body but us, bodies together I love to hold you close, tonight and always I love to wake up next to you (zayn - PILLOWTALK)
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ᨓ 。yang jungwon x fem reader ꒰👥️꒱﹕smut ﹕+11.0k contains: brat/brat tammer dynamics, orgasm control/denial, light bondage, dirty talk, choking, oral (both), lots of cum (facial, play, swap, breeding and eating), light degratation, recorded sex, petnames (good girl, princess, bunny, cockslut), squirtting, multiple orgasms. ┈─★
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this whole blog is dedicated to the best jungwon stan i've ever known @intromortal / @y2karina as a small present for her- wait for it *drum rolls* 1k milestone! And some people wanted to tell you something (more will be added) <3
💌 𝗠𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗮𝗴𝗲𝘀 [?]
@hollyoongs : my sunshine! This got a little late, but I want to congratulate you for this milestone, because it’s a reflection of the light and joy you bring to everyone who follows you. You deserve every bit of this love and support, and I’m beyond proud of how far you’ve come. Keep shining as you always do—your creativity and positivity are truly inspiring. Here’s to many more followers, moments, and memories! Love you endlessly 💓
@heeslomll : Congrats on 1k my baby love i love you forever you deserve them and so so so so much more my talented doll🩷
@sunkittie : Congratulations for reaching 1k followers bunny Nia 💗
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@alvojake : Dear Nia, I want to say congrats on the 1k, baby! You deserve each and every one of them!! Next, I want to say that you are one of the most amazing people I have met on this godforsaken site, and to be honest, I'm so, so, so glad that I got the chance to post TMH because if I hadn’t, I don’t think I would have ever interacted with you (even if that series brought a lot of tears...). I love you so much, and I can't wait to see what the future holds for you and what new things you create. Here’s to many more memories and fun conversations!! ❤️
@mxxninthesky : Lovely Nia, congrats on 1k baby <3 This such a huge milestone, I'm so happy for you >.< Your Jungwon themes always make me fall a lil deeper for him, and I'm so glad I got to read some scrumptious smut tonight in your name :P (the 'bunny' nickname tho, had me on my knees thank you holly). Anyways I hope to see you reach more and more milestones soon! Wishing you all things good <3
The first thing you feel that morning is warmth—the gentle heat of his body pressed against yours. Jungwon’s arms are wrapped around you, holding you close, his breath soft and steady against your neck. The room is still wrapped in the quiet calm of early morning, a soft light seeping through the curtains. You take a moment to just listen—his heartbeat steady beneath your hand, his chest rising and falling with each peaceful breath.
Slowly, you turn your head to glance up at him, your heart swelling at the sight of his peaceful expression. His dark hair is tousled, his lips slightly parted, and he looks so serene, like he belongs in this moment. It’s hard to believe you’ve been waking up like this for 1000 days now—1000 days of love, laughter, and everything in between.
You carefully try to slip out of his arms, but before you can move, he stirs, tightening his hold around you.
“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice is deep, husky with sleep, sending a familiar warmth through your body. His eyes blink open lazily, his lips curving into a soft smile as he looks down at you.
“I was going to make breakfast,” you whisper, your own voice still thick with sleep. “It’s a special day, remember?”
He chuckles softly, the sound rumbling from his chest as he pulls you even closer, your back flush against him. “Mmm, but I like having you here. Can’t you stay just a little longer?”
You smile, nestling back into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your palm as you faced his chest. “Okay, maybe breakfast can wait.”
His lips brush against the top of your head, and you feel him relax again, content to hold you like this for a little longer. You both stay like that for a while, wrapped in the quiet comfort of each other’s warmth. You trace lazy circles on his chest, and his fingers gently run through your hair. It’s in moments like these that you realize just how much you love him and how being with him feels like home.
Eventually, the two of you untangle from the blankets, and you throw on one of his oversized shirts before making your way to the kitchen. You hear his footsteps behind you as you start preparing pancakes, the smell of butter and batter filling the air.
“So, what’s the plan for today?” you ask, flipping a pancake as Jungwon leans against the doorframe, looking adorably disheveled.
He smirks, walking over to you, his arms sneaking around your waist from behind. “I have something planned for tonight,” he murmurs against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
You raise an eyebrow, turning slightly to glance at him. “Oh? A surprise?”
He nods, his lips brushing against your neck. “Yup, but I’m not telling you anything. Just wait, you’ll love it.”
"I'm sure I will." He leaves for a moment and comes back with his wallet in hand, extending you his black card. "What are you doing?"
"Giving you my credit card. Buy whatever you want—hair, makeup, anything. Just don't buy dresses and shoes." You stopped what you were doing and turned off the stove.
"Jungwon, I can't accept this." He took your hand as he pulled you closer, his lips pressing a soft kiss on the top of your hand.
Jungwon’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his lips lingering on your hand, sending a soft warmth coursing through you. “It’s our 1000 days, princess. Let me spoil you, just this once.”
You laughed lightly, shaking your head. “Just this once? You spoil me all the time.”
He grinned, eyes twinkling. “Okay, maybe more than just once. But today’s special, and I want you to feel as amazing as you are to me.”
Your heart fluttered at his words. He was always like this, hopelessly romantic, always finding ways to make you feel loved in the simplest yet most profound ways. You sighed, giving in, and took the card from his hand.
“Alright, fine. But I still don’t think I need anything.”
He gave you that signature mischievous smile as he gently tilted your chin up with his finger. “Just trust me, okay? Tonight, I want everything to be perfect.”
The way he said it, his voice low and full of intention, sent a thrill through you. There was something about the way he looked at you in moments like these—like you were the only person in the world, the center of his universe. It made your heart race, a blush creeping up your neck.
“Fine,” you whispered, your breath catching slightly as his eyes flickered down to your lips.
“Good girl,” he murmured, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip before he pressed a slow, lingering kiss there, making your heart pound in your chest.
The kiss was tender but left you feeling breathless. Jungwon pulled back with a playful smile. “Now let me help you finish the pancakes before I get too distracted.”
You laughed, lightly shoving him away before turning back to the stove, trying to steady your racing pulse. He lingered behind you for a moment longer, his hands resting on your hips, and you could feel the warmth of his body so close, almost teasing.
The rest of the morning passed in a gentle blur—pancakes, laughter, and light teasing. It was so normal yet so perfect. You could see it in the way Jungwon’s eyes never left you, even when he pretended to focus on eating.
When breakfast was over, Jungwon almost rushed you to get ready to prepare yourself however you wanted, and it was funny to see him so ready for that surprise.
"Oh my God, Jungwon, I'm already leaving!" You laughed at how stressed he was starting to get.
"Just come home by seven o'clock. When you arrive, you will see two boxes with your dress and shoes. Put them on in the guess bathroom. Take care, bye!" He quickly kissed your lips before he made you leave the house. His credit card was in your right hand while your car keys were on your left.
Before going to the salon, you went to a store you have been checking out for a while—a sex shop to be more exact—picking that black lingerie and bunny ears to surprise your boyfriend. Later on, you spent the next few hours at the salon, pampered and prepped, wondering what Jungwon could possibly have planned for tonight. His excitement was infectious, making it impossible not to smile every time you thought about it.
By the time you pulled back into your driveway, the sun was beginning to set, casting a soft golden hue over the house. Just as Jungwon said, there were two neatly wrapped boxes waiting for you by the door. You picked them up and carried them inside, feeling your heart race a little as anticipation built.
In the guest bathroom, you carefully unwrapped the first box, your fingers trembling slightly with excitement. As the tissue paper fell away, your breath caught in your throat. Inside lay a stunning black dress, long and flowing—the kind of dress that felt like a dream to wear. The fabric was soft and luxurious, and when you ran your fingers over it, you knew it was something special. It was elegant yet simple, but with details that made it extraordinary—the type of piece that blended your style with Jungwon’s effortlessly.
The dress had an off-shoulder cut that hugged your collarbones, exposing just the right amount of skin in a way that was both alluring and tasteful. It draped down smoothly from the neckline, the fabric cinching at your waist, accentuating your figure while flowing gracefully down to your ankles. It was the perfect combination of understated sophistication and soft allure. The black fabric shimmered subtly under the light, giving it an almost ethereal glow.
It was a dress that spoke volumes with its simplicity, a quiet elegance that you knew Jungwon loved. It wasn’t over the top, no flashy details, but it radiated confidence and beauty in its timeless design. You smiled to yourself, thinking about how this dress was the perfect reflection of both of you—your penchant for effortless grace and Jungwon’s love for the classic, refined look.
You lifted the hem, admiring the way the fabric moved, cascading in gentle waves as you stepped. It was the kind of dress that made you feel beautiful just by wearing it, like it had been crafted just for you.
In the second box, you found a pair of sleek black heels, simple yet perfectly complementary to the dress. They had a delicate ankle strap and a subtle shine to them, matching the sophistication of the gown. You could already picture the way Jungwon’s eyes would light up when he saw you in this, his lips curling into that mischievous smile he always gave when he adored something.
Taking a deep breath, you slipped into the dress, feeling the way it hugged your body perfectly, the off-shoulder neckline framing your face and shoulders in the most flattering way. As you stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the fabric slightly, you couldn’t help but smile. Jungwon had outdone himself yet again.
As you stepped out of the bathroom, the house was dimly lit with soft, flickering candlelight, guiding your path. You followed the subtle glow until you reached the living room, and there he was, standing in the middle of the room with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, looking absolutely breathtaking in a black suit that fit him perfectly.
The moment Jungwon saw you, his entire expression softened, as if the world around him had melted away, leaving only you in his vision. His eyes widened with awe, the breath catching in his throat as he stood there, utterly still, as though he was afraid if he moved, the spell would break.
For a second, he said nothing; he just took you in—his gaze tracing over the way the dress flowed against your body, how it accentuated your every curve. The delicate off-shoulder neckline revealed just enough to make his heart race, and the soft shimmer of the fabric under the dim light seemed to reflect the glow in his eyes.
"Wow..." he finally breathed, his voice low and reverent, as if he were in the presence of something divine. He slowly walked toward you, his gaze locked on yours, as if he couldn't bear to look away. When he reached you, his lips curled into the softest smile, one filled with adoration and a kind of awe that made your heart skip a beat.
"You look absolutely stunning," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He handed you the bouquet of flowers, but his hand lingered as he brushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his touch featherlight, as if he were afraid to disturb the perfection of the moment.
"Do I look good?"
"You will always look perfect to me, but tonight, you're even more perfect than I imagined," he murmured, his eyes searching yours with a depth of love that made your breath catch.
As he stood there, you couldn’t help but notice his own attire. He was dressed in a black, double-breasted suit with peaked lapels, mirroring the sophistication and style of your own outfit. The suit jacket, paired with matching trousers and a black belt, fit him impeccably, highlighting his strong, confident presence. His shirt, unbuttoned at the top, added a touch of relaxed elegance to his look. The overall ensemble was both timeless and modern, perfectly complementing the romantic atmosphere of the evening.
“And you,” you said, your voice soft with admiration, “look like you belong in a dream too.”
Jungwon’s eyes sparkled as you complimented him, his hand reaching out to gently take yours. He gave it a soft squeeze before pulling you closer, his other hand resting on your waist. “You always make me feel like the luckiest guy in the world,” he whispered, his forehead resting gently against yours.
The soft glow of the candles flickered around you, casting a warm, golden hue over everything, but all you could focus on was him. The way he looked at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in this moment, made your heart beat wildly in your chest. You could feel the warmth of his breath, the soft brush of his lips hovering near yours as if he were savoring the closeness before closing the distance.
Then, without a word, Jungwon took a step back and offered you his arm. “Shall we, my lady?” he asked, his voice playful but his eyes still full of admiration.
You grinned, looping your arm through his. “Lead the way, my gentleman.”
He guided you toward the dining area, which was transformed into a romantic setting—soft music played in the background, a beautifully set table waiting for you both. It was intimate, personal, and so very Jungwon. The scent of your favorite dishes filled the air, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how much thought he’d put into every little detail.
“I wanted everything to be perfect for tonight,” he said, pulling out your chair for you. “Because you deserve nothing less.”
As you settled into your seat, the candlelight danced around you, casting flickering shadows that enhanced the intimate atmosphere. Jungwon took his place across from you, and as you both began to enjoy the carefully prepared meal, the conversation flowed effortlessly between bites of creamy pasta and tender chicken.
“This is amazing,” you said, savoring a mouthful. “You’ve outdone yourself again, Jungwon.”
He smiled shyly, a hint of pink coloring his cheeks. “I’m glad you like it. I just wanted to create a special night for us. Besides, I remember that you wanted a romantic dinner like this.”
"But I loosely told you that at our third date before being something." You glanced at him; his words held so much weight, and you saw his soft smile as he nodded. “You’ve put so much thought into everything. I really appreciate it.”
He paused, placing his fork down. His expression shifted to something more serious, and his gaze dropped to the table for a moment. “You know, sometimes I feel like I’m not very good at expressing my feelings,” he admitted, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. ���I want you to know just how much you mean to me, and I hope tonight shows that.”
Your heart swelled, the warmth of his sincerity wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. “You express your love in so many ways, Jungwon. You don’t have to be perfect.”
He looked up, meeting your eyes again, and you could see the determination in his gaze. “But I want to be perfect for you. You deserve that. I know I might not always say the words, but I want to make up for it tonight.”
With that, he reached across the table, taking your hand in his. The warmth of his palm sent a shiver through you, and he gently tugged you up from your chair. “Come on, let’s dance.”
You blinked in surprise as he led you to the center of the softly lit room, the gentle music enveloping you both like a warm embrace. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, and you felt the rhythm of his heartbeat against yours.
“I love this song,” you whispered, resting your head against his shoulder, feeling utterly safe in his embrace.
He held you tightly, swaying softly as if the world outside had faded away. “I do too,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “It reminds me of us.”
As you danced together, the atmosphere thick with unspoken emotions, Jungwon’s hands found your face, tilting it up to meet his gaze.
His eyes bore into yours, soft yet intense, and for a moment, the world felt like it had slowed down. Every second seemed to stretch endlessly as he searched your face, almost as if he were memorizing every detail. Your heart raced, and you could feel the gentle press of his fingertips on your skin, grounding you in this perfect moment.
“You have no idea how much I’ve fallen for you,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly, raw with emotion as you felt the weight of your heart in your chest. “It’s the way you make me feel, the way you look at me like I’m the only one that matters, the way you care about every little thing... it’s overwhelming sometimes, how deeply I’ve fallen. Everything about you, the way you love me, makes me feel like the luckiest person alive.” You paused, searching his eyes as if to make sure he understood the depth of what you were saying, your voice softening. “I’ve never felt this way before, like my whole world is brighter just because you’re in it.”
Jungwon’s breath hitched. His thumb gently grazed your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You noticed how intensely he was looking at you, his eyes filled with so much adoration that it made you laugh softly. He looked completely lost in love; his expression almost dazed, and you couldn’t help but find it endearing.
“Are you okay? You look like—”
"God, I fucking love you."
The words hung in the air like a secret finally revealed, filling the room with an intensity you could feel deep in your chest. Your heart pounded, breath-catching as you stared at him, stunned by the rawness of it all. He’d never said it before—not like this. Sure, you had felt it in the way he looked at you, the small gestures that spoke louder than words, but hearing him say it, those three words, so openly and without hesitation, made your entire world tilt on its axis.
“Jungwon...” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper as your mind struggled to catch up with your heart. His eyes, wide with emotion, searched yours, as if waiting for something, anything, to let him know he hadn’t just shattered everything with his confession.
But your heart was so full you could hardly think straight. Without thinking, you reached up, your hand cupping his cheek, your thumb grazing his soft skin. “What did you say?” you murmured, your lips curling into a smile, the warmth in your chest spreading like wildfire.
He exhaled, as if relieved, his grip tightening around your waist. “I love you,” he repeated, this time softer, more intimate, like the words were only meant for you to hear. He said it again and again, each time with more conviction, his voice filled with wonder, as if the more he said it, the more real it became.
“I love you,” he whispered, leaning in, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your lips. “I love you so much it hurts.”
You could feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, your heart swelling with so much emotion you thought it might burst. “I love you too,” you whispered back, your voice thick with the weight of it all. “I love you so much, Jungwon.”
His lips found yours in the next breath, soft and slow, as if he were savoring the taste of the moment, the taste of those words hanging between you. His hands, warm and sure, slid up your back, pulling you impossibly closer, and for a second, nothing else mattered. It was just you and him, tangled up in a love so deep and so consuming, it felt like the world had disappeared entirely.
When he pulled back, his breath was shallow, his eyes dark with affection and something deeper, something more intense. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to say that,” he murmured, brushing a stray tear from your cheek, his touch gentle.
“I think I had an idea,” you teased, your voice trembling with emotion, a soft laugh bubbling up as you wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling lighter than air.
He laughed too, the sound low and full of joy. “I feel like I could say it a thousand more times, and it still wouldn’t be enough.”
“Then say it,” you whispered, pulling him closer, your lips brushing against his jaw and his neck, savoring the closeness.
“I love you,” he repeated, his voice a soft growl, his hands sliding down to your hips, pulling you flush against him. “I love you so much, it scares me.”
You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his with an intensity that took your breath away. “Then don’t stop,” you whispered, your fingers tangling in his hair, your lips ghosting over his.
And he didn’t. His lips crashed against yours again, more urgent this time, his hands exploring, his touch making your skin tingle with excitement.
Your hands were playing with the top part of his suit, feeling him smile through the kiss as you both slightly crashed the wall.
"I love you," he said between breaths, but this time it felt like a promise—the promise of something neither of you could pull away from.
You broke the kiss, your foreheads touching as you both caught your breath. Your lips went to his ear seductively. "Bring ice and wine; I'll wait for you in the bedroom."
He gave you a small kiss, and when you see him getting lost in the kitchen, you take the bag with the things you bought at the sex shop and walk to the bathroom of your bedroom, your heart pounding with excitement as you prepare your surprise for Jungwon.
You slipped into the lingerie, feeling the material against your skin as you adjusted the bunny ears on your head. The mirror in the bathroom reflected an image that made you smile—the vision that you had of yourself in mind coming to life.
You got out of the bathroom and went straight to the bed, and, thankfully, you could hear his footsteps.
Jungwon appeared in the doorway, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of you waiting on the bed. His breath hitched as he absorbed every detail—the black lingerie that clung to your curves, the playful bunny ears perched atop your head, and the way you sat so confidently, legs crossed, eyes sparkling with mischief.
He stood there for a moment, frozen, before a slow, almost predatory smile spread across his face. "You’re... full of surprises tonight," he murmured, his voice husky as he walked toward you, a bottle of wine and two glasses in hand, each of them having ice cubes in it. The way his gaze trailed over your body sent a shiver down your spine.
Your eyes were following his every movement as he set the wine down on the bedside table. "I wanted to do something special for you, too," you replied, your voice low and sultry.
You uncrossed your legs, leaving your legs open for him to watch your pussy being covered by the extremly thin fabric as you sat up straighter, drawing his attention back to you. "Do you like it?"
"Like it? I love it," Jungwon whispered, his voice low and gravelly as he knelt between your legs. His hands rested on your thighs, his touch gentle but deliberate, his thumbs slowly tracing circles over the soft fabric of your lingerie.
He let out a shaky breath, his eyes locked onto yours, and you could feel the weight of his desire in the way he looked at you—intense, hungry, and utterly captivated.
"You’re unbelievable," he murmured, his hands sliding up your thighs, fingers curling into the delicate lace of your lingerie as if he couldn't hold back anymore. "I can't believe you're mine and I'm yours."
You smiled, teasingly running your fingers through his hair, enjoying the way he melted into your touch. “I also wanted to give you a little surprise,” you said softly, leaning down to kiss him, your lips barely grazing his as you whispered, “Do you think I succeeded?”
Jungwon smiled softly, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you closer. “You have no idea,” he murmured, his lips capturing yours in a slow, deep kiss. It was the kind of kiss that made your toes curl, filled with a slow-burning passion that sent sparks through your entire body. His lips moved against yours with an intoxicating intensity, his hands sliding up your back, pressing you tighter against him.
When he finally pulled away, his breath was ragged, his forehead resting against yours. “You’re driving me crazy, you know that?” His hands roamed your body, exploring every inch with a slow touch, as if memorizing the way you felt beneath his fingertips.
You couldn’t help but giggle softly at his words, feeling the heat between you grow with each passing second. “That was the plan,” you teased, running your fingers down his chest, tracing the lines of his suit jacket. “I wanted to see how much I could push you.”
Jungwon let out a soft chuckle, his eyes filled with playful adoration as he leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear. “Be careful,” he whispered, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down your spine. “You might just get more than you bargained for.”
You smiled, running your hands up his chest, feeling the firm lines of his body under the fabric of his suit. “Good,” you whispered back, your lips grazing his ear, “because I want more.”
Jungwon’s gaze flickered, his hands still exploring your skin as you started to undress him, your movements slow and delicate, savoring every second. “You have no idea how much I love you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips, slow and deep, feeling the connection between you both intensify with each passing moment. When you pulled back, you gave him a teasing smile, your fingers running through his hair. “Then show me, Jungwon. Show me how much you love me.”
"That's what my little bunny wants?" he said, getting up of his knees as he removed his suit and started to unbelt his pants. You could see how his dick wanted to get out, and you nodded without taking your eyes apart from that. His fingers grabbed your jaw, pulling you up in a harder kiss, making you grab his arms for support.
He threw the belt on the bed as he made you jump, your legs wrapping around his hips, and his big hands supported you from your ass.
Jungwon’s grip on you was firm yet gentle, a perfect blend of control and tenderness. He pulled you closer, the heat of his body seeping through the thin fabric of your lingerie as he carried you effortlessly. His lips were relentless against yours, passionate and consuming, as if he were making up for every moment spent apart.
He laid you down on the bed, his hands roaming over your body with a growing urgency. You couldn’t help but smirk, feeling the effect you had on him. "You really are a tease, aren’t you?" he murmured, his breath hot against your neck as he kissed a trail down to your collarbone.
Your hands found their way back to his hair, tugging lightly as you whispered, "You love it." He chuckled lowly, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.
"I do," he admitted, his fingers slipping under the straps of your lingerie, slowly peeling it off your skin. "But now it’s my turn to take control."
Your pulse quickened at his words, anticipation building as his hands slid lower, teasing you with feather-light touches. He took his time, savoring every inch of you as his mouth followed the path his hands had started.
Jungwon’s touch was slow as he took in every reaction you gave him. His lips grazed the sensitive skin along your neck, his hands tugging your lingerie down inch by inch, each movement agonizingly slow, making you arch into him. You could feel his desire growing as the fabric slipped away, leaving you bare to his gaze.
"You're so beautiful," he breathed, eyes dark with longing as they roamed your body. His hands rested on your hips, firm but gentle, as he guided you back against the bed. His lips followed the curve of your collarbone, making their way down to your chest, lingering in places that made you gasp softly.
“You’re so slow,” you teased, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you tugged at his boxers, trying to free him. Jungwon grinned down at you, clearly enjoying the frustration in your voice.
"Oh, you’re impatient now?" He chuckled, his voice low and teasing. He pinned your hands above your head, leaning in close enough that his lips brushed against yours without closing the distance. “I thought you liked teasing, bunny.”
Your heart raced as you tugged against his hold, your voice soft but challenging. “Maybe I’m tired of waiting.”
Jungwon’s smile faltered for just a moment, his expression darkening with desire. “You’re going to regret that,” he whispered, his tone making you bite your lip. His lips finally crushed against yours, the kiss deep and rough, as if all the patience he had been holding onto disappeared in an instant.
He released your hands, allowing you to wrap your arms around him as he pressed his body against yours. The weight of him sent a thrill through you, his hard length rubbing against your core as he moved, drawing out soft moans from your lips.
His hands roamed down to your thighs, spreading them apart as he positioned himself between your legs, his hips grinding against yours in a way that made you gasp. He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his breathing heavy.
He took in his index finger the string of the thong, losing it and crashing against your skin, the slight burn making you leave a moan.
"You really think I'm going to your pace? I spoiled you too much."
Jungwon’s eyes gleamed with control as he tugged at the thong once more, letting the elastic snap against your skin, the sting quick but sharp enough to make you arch up into him. His grin grew wider at your reaction, loving how easily he could unravel you with the slightest touch.
“You’ve gotten too comfortable teasing me, haven’t you?” His voice was a low rumble, sending shivers down your spine. His fingers grazed along your inner thigh, barely touching, just enough to drive you mad with anticipation. “But that’s over tonight. You’re not in charge in this moment, bunny.”
Your body ached for him, and yet you couldn’t help the rebellious spark that flickered in your eyes. You tilted your head, looking up at him with a daring smile. “Maybe you like me in charge.”
Jungwon's grip on your thigh tightened, his fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp. His other hand snaked up to your chin, forcing you to look directly into his eyes. "That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble," he growled, his tone dripping with warning. "But I’ll make sure you learn your lesson."
Before you could respond, his hand slid from your chin to the back of your neck, pulling you into a rough kiss that left no room for defiance. His lips moved against yours with possessive intensity, claiming every inch of you. You could feel his restraint slipping, the tension in his body telling you that he was barely holding back.
When he pulled away, his breathing was ragged, and his eyes burned with a mix of desire and dominance. "We have all night," he whispered, his voice dark and commanding. "And I’m going to remind you exactly what happens when you push me too far."
He reached down, tugging the thin fabric of your thong completely off and tossing it aside. The cool air sent a shiver through you, but the heat between you both made it impossible to think of anything else. His fingers trailed down, brushing against your sensitive skin in the lightest, most frustrating touch. You squirmed beneath him, your body aching for more, but he held you firmly in place, enjoying your reaction.
“God, what a view,” he said, his voice filled with teasing as he watched you writhe beneath him. “So needy, so desperate, but you’re not calling the shots here. I am.”
You opened your mouth to argue, to push back against him, but before you could get a word out, his palm smacked your wet cunt, his fingers pressing against your core soon after, finally giving you the friction you craved. The sudden sensation made you gasp, your head falling back as pleasure coursed through you. But just as quickly as he started, he pulled away, leaving you breathless and frustrated.
"Please," you whimpered, unable to hold back the plea.
Jungwon smirked, his eyes glittering with triumph. "Now that's more like it," he murmured. "Good bunnies ask nicely."
Your hands were grabbing the sheets beneath you, but you loved this side of Jungwon that you're willing to actually keep your behavior.
“I could make you beg for it,” he whispered, the words dripping, temptation noticiable. “But I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet.”
His fingers grazed your entrance again, teasing but never fully giving you what you wanted. Your hips instinctively bucked against his hand, desperate for more, but he pressed you firmly back down against the bed, his eyes gleaming with control.
"Uh-uh," he tsked, his voice soft but filled with authority. "You don’t get to take anything unless I say so."
You huffed, a bratty fire still burning in your eyes despite the growing need building in your body. “Maybe if you weren’t so slow, I wouldn’t have to,” you quipped, your voice defiant, though your body betrayed your desperation.
Jungwon’s expression darkened, his gaze narrowing as he moved his hand away entirely, leaving you aching and empty. He gripped your chin firmly, forcing your eyes to meet his. "What did I just say about that mouth of yours?"
You bit your lip, holding back another retort, but the playful glint in your eyes betrayed your compliance. Jungwon’s grip tightened slightly, a warning in his touch. “You think I won’t put you in your place, bunny?”
Before you could answer, his hand left your chin and landed with a sharp slap on your inner thigh. The sting made you gasp, and you could feel the heat spreading through your body—the pleasure and pain that always made you arch toward him.
“Jungwon—” you began, but your words were cut off by another slap, this time on the other thigh. The intensity of his touch left you breathless, your body trembling with desire.
“That’s enough talking,” he growled, his tone commanding. "I’ve let you play your little games long enough."
He moved quickly, pinning your wrists above your head again, his body hovering over yours as he pressed his hips against you, the hard length of him rubbing against your core in a way that made you whimper. His lips were close enough to graze your ear as he spoke again, his voice low and dangerous.
“You want to act like a brat; I’ll treat you like one,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "But if you want this, you’re going to have to earn it."
His words sent a shiver down your spine, and despite the bratty defiance still burning in your chest, your body was completely under his control. You could feel his fingers inching lower, teasing the edge of what you wanted but never quite giving in.
“Say you’re sorry,” he commanded, his voice firm but almost playful. “Say it, and maybe I’ll give you what you’re begging for.”
Your pride battled with your desire, but the heat between your legs was too much to ignore. You squirmed beneath him, biting your lip as you looked up at him through hooded eyes. “I’m sorry,” you murmured, the words barely leaving your lips.
Jungwon raised an eyebrow, clearly unsatisfied with your answer. He tightened his grip on your wrists, his other hand sliding dangerously close to your center but stopping just short. "Louder, bunny. Let me hear you beg like you mean it."
Your breath hitched, the frustration and need building to a breaking point. "I’m sorry, Jungwon," you whimpered, your voice shaky and desperate. "Please… I need you."
Jungwon’s lips curled into a satisfied smile as he finally, mercifully, slid his fingers inside you. The sudden sensation made you moan loudly, your back arching off the bed as he moved his fingers expertly, drawing out every ounce of pleasure you’d been craving.
“That’s my good bunny,” he whispered, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he claimed you completely, leaving no room for disobedience.
His fingers were moving fast inside you, the tip of his fingers touching each time you g-spot; you weren't even bothering to hold your moans; you felt like you were out of your mind, but when Jungwon's mouth went straight to your clit, you knew you were touching heaven.
Jungwon’s mouth on your clit sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body, making you cry out his name. The way his fingers curled inside you, hitting your g-spot with precision, while his tongue flicked against your most sensitive spot, had you unraveling in seconds. It was overwhelming—too much and not enough all at once.
Your hands flew to his hair, tugging at the strands as if you needed something to ground you, but even that wasn’t enough. Your hips bucked against his face, chasing the high that was rapidly building inside you, but Jungwon wasn’t about to let you take control, not even for a second.
He growled lowly against your clit, the vibrations sending another jolt of pleasure through you, before pulling his mouth away just as you were on the brink. His fingers slowed to a teasing pace, and you whined in frustration, your body trembling with the need for release.
“Not so fast, bunny,” he said, his voice filled with amusement as he looked up at you, his lips glistening from your arousal. “I’m not letting you off that easy.”
You gasped, trying to catch your breath, your body aching for more. “Please, Jungwon,” you whimpered, your voice shaking with desperation. “I need to—”
He cut you off with a smirk, pulling his fingers out of you completely, leaving you empty and wanting. The loss made you whine louder, but Jungwon only chuckled, clearly enjoying every second of your torment.
“Look at you,” he said, his voice low and teasing as he wiped his fingers on your thigh, his eyes never leaving yours. “You're so ready for me. But I told you—you get to cum when I say so.”
Your breath hitched as he climbed back on top of you, his body pressing down against yours as his hand wrapped around your throat, not tight enough to hurt but enough to make your heart race. He lowered his lips to your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered, “You’ll take whatever I give you, Bunny, and you’ll thank me for it.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine, and all you could do was nod, too overwhelmed to form a coherent response. Jungwon grinned, clearly pleased with how submissive you’d become under his touch.
"Good girl," he whispered, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he released your throat and slid his hand down between your legs again. His fingers teased your pussy, making you squirm beneath him, but this time he didn’t hold back. He pushed two fingers inside you again, this time harder and faster, his thumb circling your clit with just enough pressure to make your vision blur.
Your moans filled the room, your body reacting instinctively to every movement, every touch. The pleasure built rapidly, and you could feel yourself spiraling, the tension inside you coiling tighter and tighter.
“Jungwon… please…” You begged, barely able to speak through the haze of pleasure. “Please…”
He smirked, his pace never faltering as he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, teasing kiss. “On top of me, Bunny,” he whispered, his voice soft but commanding. “Now.”
You moved as he was now below you; he took your hips so you could sit on his face; you stretched yourself and licked your lips at the view; you didn't even care about going slow; his arms were hugging your hips as he kept on his movements with his tongue, imaginary figures being drawn all over your cunt, and you got down to lick his red tip, the vibration of the moan he let out because of your action.
The air around you was thick with heat and desire, the sound of your labored breathing mixing with the soft hum of his moans. Jungwon's grip on your hips tightened as his tongue worked relentlessly, his movements pushing you closer to the edge with each second. Every flick, every circle he drew with his tongue had you shuddering, your body helplessly surrendering to the pleasure.
You let out a shaky breath as you took him into your mouth, he taste of him moan with pleasure. His reaction was immediate—his body tensing as he groaned deeply, the vibration adding to the sensations building inside you. You kept your pace steady, matching his intensity, your tongue swirling around his tip as you took him deeper.
His hands slid up your thighs, gripping you tighter as his tongue pressed harder, sending another wave of pleasure rippling through your body. You gasped, struggling to maintain control as the heat between your legs grew unbearable.
“Bunny…” Jungwon’s voice was ragged, his control faltering for a moment as your lips worked on him. “You’re going to make me lose it.”
His words sent a thrill through you, spurring you on as you moved your hips in time with his mouth. The pleasure was overwhelming now, like a tidal wave that was impossible to resist. Your legs trembled, your body on the brink of release, and you knew it wouldn’t take much more.
“Don’t hold back, bunny,” he murmured between the rhythm of his tongue, his voice sending shivers down your spine. His words and pace made you cum, a wave of ecstasy crashing over you as you moaned his name, your body trembling above him.
Jungwon didn’t stop, his mouth still working as you rode out the waves of pleasure. When you finally collapsed forward, spent and trembling, he spanked you, making you move again as you were kneeling in front of him. He took his dick in his hands, slapping it into your mouth to open it. When you took him, he threw his head back in pleasure.
"I told you I was taking charge of that mouth of yours." He growled as you wrapped your hand around his length, following his lead as you worked him with steady strokes, your mouth moving in sync with your hand. Jungwon groaned deeply, the sound sending a spark of satisfaction through you as you tightened your grip, your tongue teasing his sensitive tip.
"Princess," he rasped, his voice thick with desire. His eyes darkened as he watched you, his gaze fixed on the way your lips moved over him, completely captivated. He was in control, but you reveled in the power you had over him in this moment—his pleasure at your mercy.
He thrust his hips up slightly, his grip on your hair tightening as he guided your movements. You let him, your free hand resting on his thigh as you took him deeper, the slick sounds of your efforts filling the room. His breathing grew heavier, and you could feel his muscles tensing beneath your fingers, his control starting to slip.
“Just like that,” he groaned, his voice rough as his hips bucked again. “You’re doing so well, Bunny... making me feel so good.”
You hummed in response, the vibration of your moan making him gasp as you worked him faster, the wet heat of your mouth driving him to the brink. You could feel his body straining, the tension coiling tighter with each passing second.
“Fuck,” he breathed, his hand tugging at your hair as his control wavered. “I’m close…”
You didn’t stop, your mouth and hand moving in perfect rhythm as you pushed him closer to the edge. His muscles tightened, letting out a growl of your name, his release hit, his body shuddering as he spilled into your mouth. You swallowed everything he gave you, capturing the way his body trembled in the aftermath.
Jungwon’s breathing was ragged as he slumped back, completely spent, his chest rising and falling heavily. You wiped the corner of your mouth, feeling a sense of satisfaction as you looked up at him, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.
"Fuck, that was fast." You smirked at him, and he laughed at you.
"Are you really saying that, princess?" You nodded. His hand went to your face, his dumb carresing your cheek tenderly. He hissed once again when your hand began to stroke again his length.
"Bunny," he warned, you didn't even care; if his punishment was with his length inside you, you truly didn't even care.
You finally took off some of the accessories of the lingerie, leaving the bowtie collar and the ears. You touched your breasts, the sensation making you moan in delight as you accommodated yourself. You took one of your breasts as your erect nipple traveled his length.
Jungwon’s eyes widened in disbelief as he watched you, completely captivated by the sight before him. His lips parted slightly, his breathing quickening as you pressed his length between your breasts, moving them up and down in a slow yet teasing rhythm. The sensation had him groaning, his head falling back in sheer pleasure.
“Fuck, bunny,” he growled, his hands gripping the sheets as he tried to hold on to the last shred of control he had left. The friction of your soft skin against his hardened length was driving him wild, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way you moved, your breasts squeezing him perfectly.
You leaned forward, your tongue flicking out to tease the tip of his cock every time you pressed your breasts together. His entire body tensed, his breath hitching as the added sensation sent shockwaves of pleasure through him. He looked down at you, his eyes dark with lust and admiration.
"You're so fucking perfect," he muttered under his breath, his voice raspy with desire. The sight of you like this, catering to one of his deepest fantasies, was more than he could have ever imagined. You could see the hunger in his gaze, the way his hands twitched like he was holding back from taking control again.
Smiling wickedly, you continued to move your breasts against him, increasing the pace as his cock slid easily between them. His reactions spurred you on, your own arousal building as his groans became more frequent, more desperate.
Jungwon’s hand shot forward, tangling in your hair as he pulled your head back just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes were wild, filled with lust as he breathed, “You know what this does to me, don’t you?”
You nodded, feeling a rush of satisfaction. "I know," you whispered, your voice dripping with seduction. “I want to make you feel good too, Jungwon.”
That was all it took for him to lose the last bit of restraint he had. He sat up suddenly, gripping your breasts with both hands as he thrust his hips forward, driving his cock between them with an intensity that left you breathless. His movements were rough, his hands squeezing your soft flesh as he used you to chase his release.
“You’re going to make me cum again,” he groaned, his voice low and thick with desire. “You love this, don’t you? Making me lose control like this...”
You moaned in response, your own body heating up as you felt him getting closer. His grip on you tightened, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he reached the edge once again.
With one final thrust, Jungwon let out a deep growl of your name, his cock pulsing between your breasts as he came, his release coating your skin and tongue. He slumped forward, panting heavily as he tried to catch his breath, his hands still resting on your chest.
He looked next to him to find his phone on the bedside table; he did some movements before he pointed you with it.
"Smile, princess." You took your tits to push them up a little bit and stuck your tongue as much as you could; you saw the flash snapping fast, and you knew he took the picture.
You had his cum on your chest and face since you swallowed all the cum that hit your mouth right after the photo. He put the phone back to where it was, and his hands spread all his cum over your chest, making you moan at the sensibility. His fingertip passed the tip of his dick and coated some in your nipples, sucking on them as he looked at you with his big doe eyes, marking your tits as he tasted himself.
He took the back of your head to kiss you, your chest sticking to his due to his cum.
“I think you liked that,” you teased when you both separated, your voice playful despite the lingering heat between you.
Jungwon chuckled breathlessly, his thumb brushing across your flushed skin as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. “You have no idea,” he murmured. “But you didn't stop when I warned you, bunny.”
He manhandled you, making you be on your side. He stood up, grabbing his phone once again, going straight to the desk you had in front of the bed, the screen facing both of you, and he started recording, seeing yourself being so ready for him.
"You have been acting like a brat." He saw his long-forgotten belt and smiled evilishly. He took it as he walked to you; he tied your wrists with it, and he laid down next to you; he threw one of your legs so he could have full access to your ´pussy; his lips went to your ear. "Or am I wrong, doll?"
A shiver ran down your spine as Jungwon’s lips brushed against your ear, his voice dripping with dominance and something darker, more primal. You felt the leather of the belt biting into your wrists, the restraint heightening your senses as you watched him through hooded eyes, your body already buzzing with excitement.
“N-no, you’re not wrong,” you whispered breathlessly, your heart racing as you felt his hand move to grip your thigh, keeping your leg spread for him. The position made you feel exposed and vulnerable, but the thrill of it only added to the intensity of the moment.
Jungwon’s gaze flicked between your parted lips and your trembling body, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he admired how ready you were for him. "That's what I thought," he muttered, his fingers brushing your entrance before dipping into your slick heat. He groaned softly at how wet you were, teasing you with shallow strokes, his thumb circling your clit just enough to make you whimper.
He pressed his body closer to yours, the heat of his chest sticking to your back as his hand worked you expertly, keeping you on edge without giving you the release you craved. “You know, I don’t like it when my bunny acts out,” he whispered, his lips grazing your ear as he spoke, sending shivers down your spine.
“J-Jungwon, please…” You moaned, your hips bucking in search of more friction, but his hand tightened on your thigh, keeping you still. The belt around your wrists dug into your skin as you pulled against it, desperate to touch him and to feel more of him.
He chuckled lowly, his voice dripping with amusement at your desperation. “You really think begging will get you out of this, princess?” His fingers slowed their movements, barely brushing your clit now, teasing you mercilessly as you writhed beneath him.
Your breath hitched, frustration building as you whimpered again, your body aching for more. “Please, I’ll be good,” you pleaded, your voice trembling as you tried to meet his gaze. “Just don’t stop.”
Jungwon tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he considered your words, his fingers still moving torturously slow against you. “Oh, now you want to be good?” he teased, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. “I don’t think you deserve it yet.”
You let out a frustrated groan, your body trembling from the lack of release, but you could see the dark gleam in his eyes—the satisfaction he was getting from seeing you like this, helpless and needy.
Without warning, he thrust two fingers inside you, making you cry out as your body arched toward him. The sudden intrusion caught you off guard, the intensity of it sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. His fingers moved at a relentless pace now, curling inside you just right as his thumb pressed harder on your clit.
"Do you feel that, bunny?" He growled into your ear, his voice thick with desire. "That’s what happens when you push me too far."
You could barely respond, your body trembling with each thrust of his fingers, the belt around your wrists a constant reminder of how completely under his control you were. Your moans filled the room, your hips moving in sync with his hand as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.
"Look at yourself," he demanded, his voice dark and commanding as he gestured toward the phone still recording. You forced your eyes open, glancing at the screen and seeing the reflection of your own pleasure-stricken face, your body on full display for him. It sent another wave of arousal through you, your breath catching in your throat.
“You see how pretty you look when you’re falling apart for me?” Jungwon murmured, his fingers speeding up as he watched your reaction. “Such a good girl when you want to be.”
The words were your undoing. His fingers curled with sharp press of his thumb and the tension inside you snapped, you cried out his name with your body shaking uncontrollably in his grasp due to powerful orgasm.
Jungwon didn’t stop, his fingers working you through your orgasm until you were trembling from the overstimulation, your breath coming in ragged gasps. When he finally pulled his hand away, he kissed the side of your neck softly, his fingers brushing the belt on your wrists.
“You took that so well, princess,” he whispered, his voice softer now, full of praise. “But we’re not done yet.”
Your heart skipped a beat as you felt him shift behind you, positioning himself at your entrance. He kissed your ear softly before whispering, “Are you going to take it like a good girl, Bunny?”
"I'm still sensitive, Jungwon."
"Did you forget you overstimulated me, princess?" You grew quiet, giving him the reason; you felt the tip easily going inside you; you cried with pleasure, loving the overstimulation. "What a cockslut you're sometimes."
"Jungwon..."
"I'm going to repeat my question. Are you going to take it like a good girl?"
Your body trembled as you felt Jungwon slowly push inside you, the overwhelming sensation of overstimulation making you cry out in pleasure. His grip on your breast tightened, teasing and pulling as he waited for your response, knowing exactly how much control he had over you in this moment. The feeling of his fingers still ghosting over the belt around your wrists reminded you of how helpless you were, completely at his mercy.
“Yes, Jungwon,” you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to form words through the haze of pleasure. “I’ll take it... like a good girl.”
A low, satisfied growl rumbled from his chest as he began to move, thrusting into you slowly but deeply, each stroke sending waves of pleasure through your already sensitive body. You moaned loudly, your body arching against him as you felt him stretch you perfectly. The sensation was almost too much, but at the same time, you craved more—needed more.
"That’s my good girl," he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he increased his pace, each thrust harder and more deliberate than the last. His free hand trailed down to your waist, gripping you tightly as he pulled you back against him with every stroke, filling you completely.
Your moans grew louder, your head spinning from the intensity of it all. Every nerve in your body was on fire, all the movement making you ache for more even as the overstimulation threatened to drive you wild. Jungwon’s breath was hot against your skin, his growls of pleasure sending shivers down your spine as his movements grew more erratic.
"You feel so good wrapped around me, bunny," he groaned, his voice low and rough. "So fucking tight... you’re perfect."
You whimpered in response, unable to form coherent words as his pace quickened, he was sending you closer to the edge again. Your legs trembled, your body overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through you, but you couldn’t stop yourself from chasing that release, your hips meeting his with every thrust.
Jungwon’s grip was on your neck, slightly wrapping it as he felt you getting closer, his fingers digging into your skin as he growled, “Cum for me again, princess. Let me feel you.”
The command was all you needed.
The last powerful thrust took you the the edge, the tension inside you snapping once again, sending you spiraling into another intense orgasm. Your body shook uncontrollably as you cried out his name, your walls clenching around him as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Jungwon groaned loudly, his thrusts growing more erratic as he chased his own release, the sensation of your body tightening around him driving him over the edge.
He buried himself so deeply that he won his own release, hitting him so hard as he moaned your name, his grip on you tightening as his body shuddered with pleasure, feeling your lower bodies were wet from the squirt you gave him. You both lay there, trembling and breathless, the aftermath of the intense pleasure showing on the kiss you shared.
"Jungwon... I want more." You said, hooded eyes of the intense pleasure. "I want you to get me pregnant, please, Jungwon."
Jungwon's breath caught in his throat at your words, his eyes darkening with desire as they locked onto yours. The intensity of the moment, the vulnerability, and the raw passion between you made everything feel electric. His hand, which had been resting gently on your neck, tightened slightly, not in a threatening way but in a possessive, commanding one.
"Are you serious, Bunny?" he asked, his voice rough with both surprise and lust. He searched your face for any sign of hesitation, but all he found was that same intense desire reflected in your hooded eyes.
You nodded, biting your lip as you looked up at him, your body still trembling from the pleasure that had just torn through you. “I’m serious, Jungwon. I want it. I want you.”
The thought of getting you pregnant, of truly marking you as his in every possible way, sent a wave of heat surging through him. His chest rose and fell with each heavy breath, the primal urge to claim you pushing him to his limits. Jungwon let out a low, almost feral growl as his hand slid down your body, gripping your waist with possessive force.
"You want me to fill you up, huh?" he murmured, his lips brushing your ear as he pressed himself against you again. “You want to carry my baby?” His voice was full of hunger, a deep need to fulfill the fantasy you had just voiced.
“Yes, please,” you breathed, your voice shaky from both the intensity of the moment and the overwhelming desire you felt. “I want you to give me everything."
Without another word, he took the belt off your wrist, relived coming to you, going to grab his phone soon after to stop the video.
You and Jungwon completed each other so well; your relationship was the definition of healthy in so many ways, but only you two knew how good your bedchem was, loving each second of it.
"I'm going to record you again because I know my pretty girl will let the neighbors know how good I make you feel, right?" You nodded, you mind so cloudy for his dick again.
"Please, Jungwon, fill me up." Jungwon’s breath hitched as your pleading words echoed in the room, the desperation in your voice only fueling his desire. The camera in his hand captured every inch of your flushed, needy expression, and he couldn’t resist smirking as he pressed record once again. He wanted to remember this moment—to see the hunger in your eyes, the way your body responded to him like it was made for him alone.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Bunny,” he murmured, his voice dripping with both admiration and lust. His thumb stroked the inside of your thigh, teasing the sensitive skin as his other hand guided the camera over your body, tracing the curves he knew so well. “Begging for me like this, so eager to take everything I give you.”
You moaned softly at his words, your body already aching for his touch again as your hips involuntarily shifted, seeking the friction you craved. Jungwon chuckled, but the moment he was setting the camera on the nightstand, you stopped him.
"Hold the camera to my face; I want you to see how good you make me feel when you rewatch it." You said with a small smile on your face.
Jungwon’s eyes darkened with desire at your request, his lips curving into a wicked smile. The idea of capturing your pleasure and preserving the moment forever only heightened the intensity of the moment. Without hesitation, he grabbed the camera again, his hand trembling slightly with excitement as he focused the lens on your face.
"You're something else, Bunny," he rasped, his voice full of admiration and hunger. He held the camera steady, the screen reflecting your flushed skin and hooded eyes as you looked directly into the lens, a perfect mixture of vulnerability and raw lust. The sight of you, so eager and willing, drove him wild.
Slowly, he positioned himself back at your entrance, teasing you with the tip of his cock, dragging it against your sensitive folds. “Such a desperate slut for me,” he teased, his voice low and rough as he kept the camera steady on your face. "You want me to fill you up, bunny?"
“Yes, Jungwon,” you whispered, your voice barely audible through the haze of desire. “Please fuck a baby inside me.”
The way you begged for him, the pure want in your voice, sent a shiver down his spine. He pressed into you slowly, making sure he captured on camera how he entered inside you. Your moan, sharp and full of need, filled the room as he slid inside you. The camera caught the way your eyes fluttered shut, the pure bliss that washed over your face.
“That’s it, Bunny,” he murmured, his voice thick with arousal. "I want you to feel every inch of me. I’m going to fill you up just like you want." His thrusts were slow and deep, each one sending waves of pleasure through your trembling body. The camera stayed trained on your face, capturing every moan, every gasp, and every moment of ecstasy that passed between you.
“Please, Jungwon,” you gasped, your body arching into his, his tip hitting deliciously to your g spot. “Don’t stop, please... give me everything.”
He groaned at your words, his movements becoming more urgent, more driven by the desire to claim you completely. "God, this is fucking heaven." His thrusts became harder and deeper as he lost himself in the pleasure of being with you. The camera wobbled slightly as his control slipped, but he held on, determined to capture the moment of your shared release.
"Fuck! Jungwon. Don't fucking stop, please." At this point, you couldn't control the volume of your voice; you knew it was high, as high as the pleasure you were feeling, the tears of pleasure rolling down your face.
"I fucking love you, bunny. You're such a good girl for me." You moaned as you felt him completely. Your hand went to your abused clit, and you rolled your eyes, already feeling your orgasm building beautifully.
The overstimulation from earlier made you cry out in pleasure, your body still sensitive but craving more of him. His fast pace and deep thrust were more purpose
His hand moved to your abdomen, pressing down slightly. "I’m going to make sure you feel me here, princess," he growled as he felt your walls surrounding him. “I’m going to fill you so full you won’t forget who you belong to.”
You moaned in response, your body responding to his every word, his every thrust. The thought of him claiming you in such a way, of him giving you what you so desperately wanted, only fueled the fire between you. His movements became more urgent, his hips slamming into yours with purpose as he chased that high again, his desire to give you what you asked for driving him over the edge.
“Tell me again,” he demanded, his voice strained with effort as he neared his climax. “Tell me what you want.”
“Fuck a baby in me!” You gasped, your nails digging into his arm as you felt yourself spiraling toward the edge once more. “Please, Jungwon… Fill me up. I need it.”
"Baby, I love you much."
"I love you too, Jungwon."
With a low, guttural moan, Jungwon’s body tensed, and he buried himself deep inside you one last time. He stopped the video and threw his phone somewhere on the bed, both of his hands going to your hips and making sure you cough. You squirted all over him again, your release hitting you hard, filling you completely as you screamed his name. You could feel the warmth of him spreading inside you—the fulfillment of everything you had just begged for.
Your body was trembling beneath him, every nerve still tingling from the intensity of it all. As Jungwon’s fingers slipped back inside you, your breath hitched, a soft moan escaping your lips. His touch was tender now, more focused, as if savoring the way your body responded to him. Your legs shook, but his hands held you steady, guiding you through the lingering waves of pleasure, never letting you lose control completely.
With a gentle groan, Jungwon lowered himself again, his mouth finding you as he licked your swollen heat, tasting the mixture of both of you on his tongue. The sensation was electric, and your hips bucked involuntarily, a whimper leaving your lips at the feeling of him drawing every last bit of pleasure from you. His tongue was slow as if he was memorizing the taste of you, of everything the two of you had shared.
You felt his cum on his tongue as he lapped at you, and before you could fully process the overwhelming sensation, he came back up to your mouth. His eyes locked with yours, dark and intense, as he held your gaze. Without breaking eye contact, he spat softly into your open mouth. You could taste him, salty and rich, mixed with the sweetness of your own pleasure. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction as you swallowed without hesitation, a soft hum vibrating in your throat.
The kiss that followed was slow, almost languid, his lips moving over yours with a gentleness that contrasted the heat from earlier. His tongue swept into your mouth, exploring, tasting, like he did every single time. It was tender, intimate, and in that moment, nothing else existed but the two of you.
Time seemed to blur as your kiss deepened, but this time it was different—there was no rush, no urgency, just the soft press of his lips against yours, the slow drag of his tongue, and the quiet sighs of contentment that passed between you. You could feel the tiredness settling into your limbs, the exhaustion of the night creeping in as your bodies relaxed into each other.
When you finally pulled away, your eyes fluttered open, and the first thing you saw was him—his gaze already on you, warm and soft, a small smile playing on his lips. He looked utterly at peace, his dark hair tousled, his face flushed from exertion. You couldn’t help but smile back, your heart swelling with love so intense it almost felt like too much to hold inside.
“You’re staring,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from the hours spent together.
His smile widened, his fingers gently tracing your jawline. “Can you blame me?” he murmured, his voice low and full of affection. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”
Your heart melted at his words, and you reached up, your fingers brushing through his messy hair, smoothing it down as you gazed into his eyes. “I love you,” you said softly, the words slipping from your lips as naturally as breathing.
Jungwon’s smile grew even softer, his hand sliding down to rest on your waist, pulling you closer. “I love you too,” he whispered back, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss. “Come on, let's take a shower and sleep in the guest bedroom. I'll take care of cleaning your bed and the sheets tomorrow.”
You nodded, a warm feeling spreading through your chest at his thoughtfulness. Despite his legs being slightly shaky, he effortlessly lifted you into his arms, cradling you like a princess. You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he carried you toward the bathroom, the soft glow of the dim lights reflecting off the walls, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere and the bunny ears falling to the ground.
As he stepped into the bathroom, he gently set you down, a playful grin lighting up his face as he turned on the water, adjusting the temperature until it was just right. You watched him, mesmerized by the way he moved, his every action filled with an effortless grace that made your heart flutter.
“Do you need help?” you teased, leaning against the sink, enjoying the view of him working.
He shot you a playful glance over his shoulder, his lips curling into that mischievous smile you adored. “I think I can manage, but I wouldn’t mind some company,” he replied, his tone inviting.
You stepped closer, the steam beginning to rise as the water heated up. The sound of the shower cascading down was soothing, and you felt a sense of tranquility wash over you as you approached him. Jungwon turned off the tap and faced you, the air thick with warmth and affection.
“Come here,” he murmured, opening his arms wide. You stepped into his embrace, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin, the scent of him wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.
He leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft kiss, the kind that ignited a spark of desire deep within you. You melted against him, your body responding instinctively as you lost yourself in the taste of him, the world outside fading away once more.
After a few moments, he pulled back, a satisfied grin plastered on his face. “Okay, let’s get you all cleaned up,” he said, his eyes dancing with mischief as he turned to adjust the showerhead.
You stepped inside, the warm water cascading over you, and Jungwon joined you moments later, the water soaking his hair and skin. You couldn’t help but admire the way the water glistened on his toned body, every drop accentuating his back and small waist.
“Careful,” you teased, smirking playfully as he reached for the shampoo. “I might get jealous of the way the water is touching you.”
He laughed, his eyes sparkling with playful mischief. “You’re the only one who gets to touch me,” he replied, his voice low and sincere. “I promise.”
You felt warmth spread through you at his words. “And I plan on taking full advantage of that,” you said, stepping closer as he lathered up the shampoo in his hands, before offering some to you.
As the two of you washed each other, laughter filled the bathroom, mingling with the sound of the water as you shared soft kisses between rinsing off.
After rinsing off, you both stepped out of the shower, wrapping yourselves in fluffy towels. You couldn’t help but steal glances at him as you dried off, a sense of contentment settling over you.
“Let’s get to the guest bedroom,” he said softly, taking your hand and leading you through the dimly lit hallway. As you entered the room, you felt a wave of comfort wash over you. The bed was soft, inviting, and you could already imagine the peaceful night ahead.
Jungwon turned to you, a serious expression crossing his face. “I just want you to know how much you mean to me,” he said, his voice steady and sincere. “Tonight has been incredible, but being here with you, like this, makes me happier than I can put into words.”
You smiled, feeling your heart swell with affection. “I love you.” you replied, stepping closer, your fingers interlacing with his. “I love you so much, this night was perfect.”
He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “I love you even more” he murmured, pulling back to meet your gaze.
With that, he climbed into bed, pulling the covers down and inviting you in beside him. You nestled against him, feeling the warmth of his body envelop you, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace.
As you lay there, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble of love and warmth. The tiredness from the night’s adventures began to take hold, and you found yourself drifting off, content and utterly in love.
“Happy 1000 days, for many more, princess,” Jungwon whispered softly, brushing his lips against your temple.
“For many more, my prince,” you murmured back, your heart full as you surrendered to the soothing comfort of sleep, knowing you were exactly where you were meant to be.
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↷ 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚢'𝚜 note: i really hope you like your present, you're such a nice person and your stories are small gems that more than a thousands people love 🦋
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wolverigrl · 2 months ago
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Rumors
Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)
Warnings: smut! Only 18+!, swearing, angsty, fluffy
!Disclaimer! If you'd like to skip the smut, scroll down as soon as you see "---" in the text. From there, the smut part begins and ends at the next "---"!
Enjoy!
Previous Part
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It's been five months. Five months since our first date, and yet somehow, it feels like both forever and no time at all.
I sit here now, in the gym, watching him lift weights like it’s nothing, and I’m struck by just how lucky I feel. From the very beginning, it was like we found our rhythm without even trying - our relationship is built on mutual respect and trust. We give each other space when needed, and t's refreshing to be with someone who values independence as much as I do.
The dates we've had so far have been perfect in their own way. Our second one was at this hidden gem of a restaurant tucked away in the city. I remember how he laughed when I spilled wine on the tablecloth, and how his hand brushed mine as we reached for the same napkin. We've done simple things too, like grabbing coffee early in the morning or working out. Once, we spent an afternoon at an old bookstore, getting lost in the aisles of dusty novels and sharing passages that made us laugh. Every moment with him feels like a memory in the making
And yet, it all changed a little last month when we were spotted. We hadn't been careful enough. A quick kiss in a park, something so innocent, but the paparazzi caught us. The next day, our picture was splashed across every tabloid and social media. That unintentional confirmation of our relationship wasn't what we had planned. Neither of us wanted the world in on our private lives.
Still, we've dodged every question thrown at us in interviews or on social media. But avoiding the questions doesn't stop the criticism.
The age gap. It's what everyone seems to latch onto. Hugh's used to it - He’s been doing this long enough to know how to handle the press, the rumors, the gossip. But me? I’m still learning how to deal with it. I try to act like it doesn't bother me. I nod along, tell everyone I'm fine, but inside, it's harder than I thought it would be. Some of the comments sting more than I care to admit. I've been in relationships before, but none of them were "public" like this. My exes were all from my private circle - well, except for Chris, but that doesn't count. That was way before either of us was well-known. This, with Hugh, is different. It's out there.
I didn’t want that. I wanted to keep us private for a while longer, to hold onto this little piece of normalcy for just us. But now it’s out, and there’s no taking it back.
Now everything is under scrutiny. People question our relationship and my motives. Of course there are fans who are supportive - sweet comments, even some who come up to me on the street and say they love us together. But then there are the others. The ones who say I’m only with him to advance my career, that I’m using him to get ahead. Ever since our last movie together, I’ve been getting bigger roles, and some people think that’s because of him. Like I can’t earn anything on my own.
I try to brush it off, but there are moments when those words hit hard. And even though Hugh has told me a thousand times to ignore it. I’m not like him. I haven’t been in the spotlight for decades. I don’t have the thick skin he’s developed over the years.
Our managers weren’t thrilled either when they found out we’d been seeing each other behind their backs. It wasn’t anger, really, more disappointment that we hadn’t trusted them enough to let them in on it. But in a way, I’m glad we didn’t. We needed this to just to be ours for a while.
Still, despite all the noise, the criticism, the rumors—there’s comfort between us. We act like a real couple. We’ve never had the talk, though, about what we are exactly. Are we officially together? I don’t even know. We’ve just kind of fallen into this routine, and honestly, love it. I love the way he makes me feel like I’m the only person in the world when we’re together.
My eyes drift back to him as he lowers the weights, his muscles tensing with the effort. He's ridiculously strong, and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a turn on. God, he’s attractive. And sweet. And patient. And funny. Sometimes I catch myself even fangirling. I mean, it's still Hugh fucking Jackman. How did I get so lucky?
“You good, y/n?" Hugh’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and I realize I’ve been staring.
“Yeah." I say, quickly covering up my awkwardness with a grin. “Just appreciating the view.”
His eyes narrow, that playful smile tugging at his lips. He walks over, sweat still glistening on his skin, and towers above me, crossing his arms. “You know, you could’ve just taken a picture.”
“Maybe I will next time,” I tease, leaning back on the bench.
He chuckles, the sound warm and rich. “Or you could just join me instead of sitting over there like a creep.”
“Please. I did twice as many reps as you did earlier,” I say, pretending to wipe imaginary sweat from my brow. “I deserve a break.”
“Is that right?” He raises an eyebrow, leaning down so we’re almost face-to-face. “Pretty sure I saw you struggling with those squats.”
“I wasn’t struggling." I protest, trying to keep a straight face, but his cocky grin is making it impossible.
“You say that now, but your form—”
“My form was perfect!” I laugh, pushing his arm lightly. “Stop acting like you weren’t impressed.”
“Oh, I was impressed." he admits, his voice dropping an octave. “Just not with your workout.”
The heat between us flares up in an instant, the way it always does when he looks at me like that. There’s this pull, this magnetic energy that I haven’t felt in a while. We flirt, we tease, we push each other’s buttons, and it’s exhilarating. But there’s always this line we haven’t fully crossed yet. We get close - so close - but we always pull back.
We go back and forth like this until we wrap up our workout. Hugh's leaving for Sydney tomorrow to visit his family for a few weeks, but his kids won't be able to join him because they're going on holiday with their mom, so it'll just be him this time
I'll admit, I already miss him so much. I don't really know what to do yet. So far, we've spent pretty much every day together, but now that the interviews are slowly getting fewer and everyday life is getting quieter, it's getting boring without someone to keep me on my toes. I guess Ryan and Blake will have to take over.
After the gym, we head back to his place, still bickering about who did better with which exercises. By the time we're on the couch, it's turned into playful shoving and teasing until his lips are on mine, and everything else fades away. God, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed the way his lips feel on mine, the way his touch sets my skin on fire.
But just as things are about to cross that line again, I pull away, leaving him breathless and staring at me in confusion.
"You’re impossible." he mutters, running a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his voice.
I smile sweetly, standing up and stretching. “I need a shower.”
"You’re an absolutely evil woman!" he calls after me as I walk toward the bathroom, but I don’t turn around. I can feel his eyes on me the whole way.
I can't help but smile to myself as I undress and step into the shower. The hot water cascades down my skin, but my mind is elsewhere - back on the couch, replaying the way his hands felt on me, the way his breath hitched when I kissed him. It's getting harder to hold back, to not give in to the growing desire between us. We've come close before - so many times - but for some reason, we always stop right pefore things get too far. It's like we're both waiting for the perfect moment. I'm not in a rush, but God, he makes it so hard to resist.
But it’s not just physical. It’s him. It’s the way he looks at me, the way he makes me feel seen. I’ve never been so comfortable with someone, and that scares me a little. I’m falling for him - hard - and I’m terrified of what that means. We’ve never even talked about what we are, and here I am, thinking about how much I want him, how much I love him.
The thought stops me in my tracks. Am I in love with him? My heart pounds in my chest, and I realize that, yes, I probably am. But I don’t know if he feels the same way. What if this is just something casual for him? What if I bring it up, and he doesn’t feel the same? He’s never pressured me, never pushed for more, and sometimes I wonder if he’s happy with how things are - just casual, just fun.
When I'm done, I slip into my pajamas - just a simple tank top and shorts - and head into the bedroom. Hugh's sitting on the edge of the bed, scroling through his phone, but he glances up when I walk in.
"Took you long enough." he says with a mischievous grin. "Were you thinking about me in there?"
I smirk, leaning against the doorway.
"Maybe?"
He laughs, setting his phone down and standing up. He walks over to me, placing one hand on my hip, the other cupping my face. His lips brush mine in a teasing kiss, his hand sliding down to give my ass a playful squeeze.
"Behave." I mutter, but my voice betrays me, sounding more breathless than I intended.
"Why? I thought you like it when I don’t." he says, that teasing grin never faltering.
Before I can respond, he pulls away and heads to the bathroom. "I'll be right back."
I sighed and lay down on the bed and looked thoughtfully at the ceiling.
Before I can lose myself in my thoughts again, I hear the water turn off, and a minute later, Hugh steps back into the room, still dripping wet and wrapped only in his towel, which hangs dangerously low. I can't take my eyes off him. He's searching through the dresser, muttering something about forgetting his boxers, but I don't hear the words. My heart pounds in my chest, and I know - I know - this is it. I can’t hold back anymore.
Without second guessing, I get up and cross the room, moving toward him without a word. He watches me, his brow furrowing in slight confusion, but there’s something else there too.
When I reach him, I stop, just inches away, and look up at him. I don’t say anything for a long moment. I just let myself feel the weight of this moment.
---
Finally, I find my voice, though it’s softer than I expected. “I want you.”
His eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, I think I’ve surprised him. But then, something shifts in his expression, and the air between us thickens. He steps closer, his hand coming up to cup my cheek as he studies my face.
“Are you sure?” His voice is low, husky, and I can see the restraint in his eyes. He’s giving me an out. One last chance to change my mind. But I don’t want out. Not anymore.
“Yes." I whisper, barely able to speak past the lump in my throat. “I’m sure.”
That’s all it takes. In an instant, his lips are on mine, and the kiss is different this time - deeper. Hungrier. His hands move to my waist, pulling me against him, and I wrap my arms around his neck, melting into his touch.
Before I know it, he’s lifting me off the ground, my legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. I can feel the heat radiating off him, the roughness of the towel against my skin. His grip tightens, and I’m suddenly aware of just how much I want him - how much I’ve always wanted him.
The kiss grew more intense, more desperate, and I can feel the last remnants of our restraint crumbling. He carries me over to the bed, his towel loosening around his hips, and gently lays me down. Our breaths are ragged, our bodies pressed together in a way that makes it impossible to think of anything else.
His kisses moved to my neck while one of his hands disappeared under my top. I gasped softly and ran my hands over his strong back. He began to gently squeeze my breast as I pressed his hips against mine with my legs, clearly feeling his arousal. Breathing heavily, he rubbed his groin against me and applied more pressure to my breast.
"Please." I said softly and looked at him greedily. "Please what, love?" he broke away from my lips and straightened up a little to get a better look at my face.
I couldn't help myself and looked down to his towel, which was now hanging down so low that you could see his perfect v-line clearly, as well as the vein under his belly button.
I swallowed and also straightened up to pull my top over my head.
"Fucking hell." he muttered quietly. I lay back down with my arms over my head and looked straight at him. "Just stop holding back and fuck me already."
He didn't need to be told twice and leaned over me again. The kiss was wilder than before and I felt like his hands were everywhere. I was in such a trance that I didn't even notice that he had already thrown my shorts on the floor. It was only when I felt his fingers on my clit that I realized it. I gasped out loud and dug my fingers in his hair and shoulders as he caressed my neck and circled his thumb over my clit. I was a complete wreck. Everything happened so quickly, but somehow it also didn't. I pressed my knees into Hugh's sides and pushed my pelvis towards him as he slid two fingers inside me. I moaned loudly and pushed my head back into the pillow. Suddenly I felt an electrifying sensation as he ran his tongue around my breast and sucked on it. He curled his fingers in and moved his hand faster. I moaned loudly again and pressed my nails firmly into his shoulder as a pleasurable feeling came over me in my abdomen.
Hugh's kisses moved back up to my lips until he released his heavy breath and slid his fingers out of me.
He looked at me full of lust and totally befuddled. I had never seen him like this before. But seeing him like this almost made me go crazy myself. He smiled gently at me and stroked a few strands of hair from my face. "You're so damn beautiful."
I felt my face flush and ran my hands down his torso to his dick, smiling. He breathed heavily and closed his eyes as I slowly began to stroke him.
I clenched around nothing and bit my lip as I looked at him.
He looked at me again, bent both my legs and pulled my hands away, to stroke his own member. He rubbed his pre-cum wet tip against my clit and looked deep into my eyes. It made me absolutely feral.
"Hell. Stop fucking teasing!" I growled. Without another word, he slid into me and put my legs over his shoulders. I moaned loudly and curled my toes. He was breathing heavily and you could see how much he was controlling himself.
"You're so fucking tight." He slowly began to move his hips and it drove me wild when I felt him filling me up. "Baby please don't hold back." I moaned and closed my eyes.
"Eyes on me my love." he groaned and thrusted harder. I gasped, a little startled, and looked him straight in the eyes. My hands disappeared into his hair again and his speed increased steadily. I felt everything slowly boiling up inside me and I clenched hard around his dick. That eye contact. His moans. The sounds of our bodies hitting each other and the thick air in the room. Everything began to spin around me and I could no longer maintain eye contact.
"I'm gonna cum!" I moaned as I felt him thrusting even deeper than before. Hugh now closed his own eyes, let my legs off his shoulders and pressed both my hands over my head with one hand to stimulate my clit with the other. He was panting loudly himself. "Cum for me baby. I wanna see how you cum all over me."
That gave me the rest and for a brief moment I thought I was seeing the white light. My legs were shaking like crazy and I felt an incredible pull in my abdomen. Hugh moaned with me and let go of me to support himself with his forearms next to my head instead.
Panting, he rested his head in the crook of my neck while I stroked his sweaty back. Shortly afterwards, I felt his rhythm become more and more irregular until he did a last hard thrust and moaned loudly. The sound of his voice and the feeling of his pulsing dick made my skin crawl and I pressed myself tightly against him with my legs and arms.
There was complete silence for a moment. I could only hear our panting and our heartbeats in the room.
I felt his semen leaking out of me and slowly running down my bottom.
Hugh pulled away to lay down next to me and pulled me to his side before kissing me on the forehead. I smiled at him and stroked his sweaty chest with my hand.
"We should probably have done it before the shower." Hugh said with a smirk and looked at me.
"Or in the shower." He laughed and nodded.
---
After cleaning up, we lay together, our bodies entwined under the blanket. The room is quiet, except for the sound of our breathing slowly returning to normal. Hugh is beside me, his arm draped over my waist, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on my skin. I can feel the rise and fall of his chest against my back, and there’s a comfort in the silence between us.
But there’s also a weight, a need to say something. To define this.
I shift slightly, turning so I can face him. His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, neither of us says anything. Then, softly, I ask. "Do you ever… worry? About what people say about us?”
His brow furrows slightly, and he brushes a strand of hair from my face before answering. “What people say? You mean the age thing?”
I nod, feeling a lump in my throat. “Yeah. And the way they watch us. The paparazzi, the rumors… It’s just hard sometimes.”
He presses a soft kiss to my forehead, his hand gently cupping the back of my head. “I know it’s hard, y/n and I’m sorry you have to deal with all that because of me.”
“It’s not your fault,” I say quickly. “I just… sometimes I don’t know how to handle it. But I don't want to be that person who lets the outside world affect what we have." I whisper. "But sometimes it just... gets to me."
"You're not that person." he assures me, his voice firm but gentle. "You're human. And it's okay to feel that way. The important thing is that we talk about it, like we're doing now.. And you don’t have to handle it alone." he murmurs, his lips brushing my temple. “I’m here. We’re in this together.”
His words are soothing, but there’s still a part of me that struggles with the reality of our situation. I bite my lip, hesitating before speaking again. “Sometimes I wonder… if maybe we shouldn’t—”
“Hey." he interrupts softly, his thumb grazing my cheek. “Don’t go there. We’re good, okay? We’re more than good.”
I close my eyes, leaning into his touch. “I know. I just don’t want it to get too complicated.”
Hugh is silent for a moment, then he asks quietly. “Would it help if we made it official?”
I blink, my heart skipping a beat. “Official?”
He gives me a small smile, his eyes soft as he looks at me. “Yeah. Maybe then they will stop harassing us with their questions." For a moment we both were silent before he started to speak again. "Like… would you want to be my girlfriend?”
My heart swells at the simplicity of his question and made me speechless. Then I slowly nod, a smile spreading across my face. “Yeah." I whisper. “I’d like that.”
He grins, pulling me closer and pressing his lips to mine in a soft, lingering kiss. We stay like that for a while, wrapped in each other, content.
After a while, he pulls back, looking thoughtful. “You know, I’m heading to Australia tomorrow to visit family.”
I nod, already knowing. “Yeah, you mentioned that. How long will you be gone?”
“A few weeks." he says, his fingers brushing over my arm absently. “But… I was thinking. What if you came with me?”
I blink in surprise. “To Sydney?”
“Yeah. I mean, only if you want to. No pressure. I just thought it’d be nice… spending some more time together. Away from all this.”
I hesitate, the idea both exciting and terrifying. “I don’t know, Hugh. It feels… fast. I haven’t even met your family yet.”
He chuckles softly. “You wouldn’t have to. Not unless you wanted to. It can just be the two of us. We can do whatever you want. I just want to spend time with you."
I smile softly at his words, feeling my heart swell.
“I’ll think about it,” I say softly, leaning my head against his chest. His heartbeat is steady beneath my ear, a calming rhythm that soothes the anxiety swirling in my mind.
“Good,” he murmurs, running his fingers gently through my hair. “That’s all I ask. No pressure.”
I bite my lip, thinking it over. The idea is tempting - really tempting.
"Okay." I say, making the decision. "I'II come. But maybe I'll fly out a week later. That way I can maybe meet up with Blake and Ryan, maybe even visit Chris in Boston."
Hugh nods, a relieved smile spreading across his face. "Deal. A week later, and we'll have the best time. Just you and me."
We share another soft kiss, and can't help but laugh against his lips.
After our conversation, we lay there for a little while longer, basking in the afterglow of everything we’d just shared. The weight that had been pressing on my chest for weeks felt lighter now that we’d talked about it.
Eventually, we sat up, and the idea struck me - if we were really ready to move forward, maybe it was time to let the world know about us on our own terms.
“I was thinking…” I start, glancing over at him. “We should post a photo of us."
Hugh’s eyebrows lifted in slight surprise. “You sure about that?”
I nod, feeling a sense of resolve I hadn’t felt before. “Yeah. I mean the media already knows about us and we can't hide anymore. So why not?"
A smile tugs at his lips, and he reaches for his phone on the bedside table. “Alright, I’m in. Let’s take a picture then.”
I chuckle. “But maybe we should put on some clothes first?”
Hugh laughs softly, the sound sending a warmth through me. “Yeah, I suppose we shouldn’t scandalize the internet too much.”
As I sit up, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the bedroom mirror and grimace slightly. My hair’s a mess from… well, everything, and I’m definitely not looking my best. “Ugh. I look awful.”
Hugh stands up and shakes his head with an amused smile. “You look perfect,” he says, casually reaching into his closet for a shirt. He pulls one on, his muscles stretching the fabric in a way that makes it hard for me to focus. “Come on, we’ll take a cute one.”
I roll my eyes playfully but grab one of his T-shirts from the drawer. “Fine, but if I look weird, we’re deleting it.”
“No way!” he teases, pulling me into his arms once I have the shirt on. “You could never look weird.”
I can’t help but laugh as he wraps his arms around me from behind. He holds the phone up in front of us, angling it to get the perfect shot. “Okay, smile!”
I glance up at him just as he snaps the picture. My smile turns into a laugh, the joy bubbling out of me before I can stop it. I look ridiculous, but when I see the photo, it’s kind of perfect. Hugh’s grinning at the camera, looking all charming and effortlessly handsome as always, while I’m gazing up at him, clearly laughing and obviously so in love.
I bite my lip, hesitating. “I don’t know… I look a little -"
“You look great." Hugh cuts in, his tone firm but soft. “Come on, y/n. This is us. It’s real.”
I glance at the picture again. He’s right. It’s not some polished, perfect photo shoot - it's just us. Happy, in love, and completely ourselves. I sigh, giving in. “Okay, fine. Let’s post it.”
He beams at me, clearly pleased, and starts typing a caption on his phone. I lean over his shoulder to read it:
>>thehughjackman: Caught laughing at all the rumors... guess they weren't all wrong🤫 #couplegoals<<
I laugh, rolling my eyes playfully "#CoupleGoals? Really?"
"You're right." he says, smirking as he backspaces. "How about.. #HughJackedY/n?"
I swat him laughing, and he finally posts it without any hashtag.
I take my smartphone and also post it with another caption:
>>y/ninstagram: Who knew Wolverine was such a softie?❤️🐺<<
And just like that, it’s out there. The world now knows officially. My heart pounds a little faster as the notifications start rolling in almost instantly. I feel a rush of nervous excitement—what will people say?
We sit there, watching as the comments flood in, one after another.
>>vancityreynolds: Took you long enough!<<
>>blakelively:This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Love you both!<<
>>ChrisEvans: Treat her right or Cap's coming for you!💪🏻<<
>>zendaya: Omg, stop! You guys are ADORABLE<<
>>officialladydeadpoolmovie: Deadpool approves of this union. Carry on.<<
I glance at Hugh as the comments keep pouring in, feeling a strange mixture of warmth and relief. There’s so much love here—so many people supporting us. It’s overwhelming in the best way.
“I told you it’d be fine,” Hugh says, his voice soft. He nudges me gently with his shoulder. “And look, everyone’s happy for us.”
I smile at him, feeling lighter than I have in days. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
More comments continue to roll in, some from fans, some from friends:
>>florencepugh: I KNEW IT!!!<<
But it’s the fan comments that really make me smile:
>>lordyx3z: Omg, I knew they were together! This makes me so happy!🥹😩<<
>>serenax77: Remember when y/n literally said 'fuck me' during an interview? Manifesting at its finest😂😂😭<<
>>hugh4ewa: Hugh, blink twice if y/n's forcing you to post couple pics😂<<
>>y/nno1fan: About damn time! Y'all had me waiting like the post credits scene of a Marvel Movie!<<
>>mynameseve: I need somebody to look at me, like y/n looks at Hugh😭❤️<<
>>girlpoolxpoppins: Can somebody pls check on Ryan? ASAP<<
>>boyinyellwspndx: y/n: "fck me!" - Hugh: "Say less". Dreams come true folks<<
I can’t help but grin at the flood of positivity. Sure, I know there will be some haters - there always are - but for now, it feels like we’re surrounded by love and support, and that’s all that matters. I glance at Hugh again, my heart swelling as he scrolls through the comments, laughing at some of the more playful ones.
“This was a good idea.” I say quietly, resting my head on his shoulder.
He turns his head slightly, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Of course it was.” he murmurs. “Now everyone knows you’re officially mine.”
I laugh softly, my heart feeling full. “And you’re mine.”
We sit there for a while, reading through the comments and enjoying the moment. It feels like a weight has been lifted, like we’re finally free to be ourselves without worrying about what anyone else thinks.
And honestly? It feels perfect.
---------------------------------------------------
@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild @rexmeshlasblog @melmel-fandom @needz1nk @nonamevenus @morganlolitta @angelofthorr @pickuptruck01
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talesofesther · 10 months ago
Text
first in my heart
Astarion Ancunin x Reader
Summary: Astarion hasn't seen his own face in 200 years and this bothers you deeply. You find a solution to finally show him how you see him, yet it leads to much more than simply that.
A/N: Gotta thank my sweet @iamnicodemus for encouraging me to write this. Undoubtedly one of the sweetest things I've ever written.
Word count: 4,7k
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"I've never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red."
It was something that lurked in the corners of your mind, those words of his. No matter how many days passed, you couldn't shake them off. It saddened you deeply. Each new passing mention about the last two centuries of Astarion's life drove a knife into your heart and twisted bitterly.
To the naked eye, it was imperceptible, never there. Even now, as you sat around the warm bonfire, watching as the pale elf bickered halfheartedly with Gale, he seemed as ordinary as your group of misfits could be. His smile loose, adorning those sharp fangs you'd become quite familiar with; silver hair curling delicately around pointy ears; deep red eyes reflecting the fire embers with a unique shine whenever he'd steal glances at you. He was the embodiment of lightheartedness and witty remarks, eccentric, unbothered, and with a quick tongue for anything.
And yet, he wasn't, not always. You felt secretly privileged, in a way, to be able to see the real him—to be allowed to. To hold him close when he wakes up gasping for air he didn't quite need and with watery eyes in the dead of the night; to softly kiss each and every scar on his back, whispering promises of love where before he had only known pain; to remind him again and again of his worth.
Astarion had a side to him you were slowly uncovering; you think, that he himself is only now uncovering as well. Vulnerable and fragile, broken but not beyond repair, yearning to be cradled by gentle hands.
He deserves to be mended, you know it in your heart. To get back what was taken from him. And you wanted to help, if only a little.
Earlier today as you ventured through Baldur's Gate, you stumbled upon a discarded sketchbook. It was a little dirty and a little worn, but it was still very much usable. Amidst your—many—questionably valuable loot, you knew you had a few good pencils to spare too.
It's been long since you picked up some paper and let your mind run free—before your whole adventure, to be precise. Maybe you'd be a little rusty around the edges and it would take a few tries to get him close to perfect, but you had time; or, you'd make time. He deserved as much.
⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆
The lines that made him him came almost like second nature to you, maybe because you'd traced those same features with your fingertips countless times before within these last weeks. Ever since he admitted he'd fallen for you beyond his plans of seducing you, things had been easier, lighter. He allowed himself to be cherished and you were more than happy to do so.
A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you created curly strands of his hair with your pencil. Delicate and precise, even for the mess that was his curls.
The sky bathed in shades of orange, pink, and baby blue as the sun lowered in the distance. The camp was as lively as it usually was during the evenings. Karlach was playing fetch with Scratch and the Owlbear cub, the latter who was mostly just running around aimlessly. Gale and Wyll were hunched over the fire doing something you could only hope wouldn't end in mild disaster. Lae'zel sharpened her blades, a scratching sound piercing your ears from afar. Shadowheart looked to be in deep conversation with Astarion, to which the vampire gestured wildly as he apparently tried to make a point.
You never expected that your unfortunate encounter with a mind flayer would give you a makeshift family, but you were thankful that it did. For better or worse, you were all in this together, and that was comfort and motivation enough.
With the strangely soothing sounds of laughter and bickering, you turned your attention back to your sketchbook. Going back one page, you had already finished a rough sketch of Astarion's profile, focused on the contrast of his sharp nose and soft curls. Now, on the next page, you were working on a more elaborate portrayal of his features, depicting a look he often wore when you sauntered over to him; the faint smile on his lips that had grown all the softer ever since you first met; the gentle tilt of his head as his eyebrows scrunched expectantly; the sharp and alluring eyes who could pierce into your soul.
"What are you up to, my sweet?"
The sudden honey-coated voice startled you, you jumped slightly on your seat and hastily covered the pages on your lap with your forearms.
The elf himself stood only a few feet in front of you, his lips pursed and an eyebrow raised in curiosity as he tried to peek past your arms.
You chuckled timidly, "Nothing, I was just- just resting a bit." Shrugging nonchalantly as you smiled.
Astarion narrowed his eyes at you but didn't push it, he never did. "Gale is trying to make us something to eat with what he got from the vendors today," he gestured behind himself and to the fire where Gale stood in front of, "I wouldn't be the first to try it out if I were you but I'm dying to know everyone's opinion on it." A sly smirk got his fangs poking out, "bonus points if someone vomits it out."
You shot him an amused look, biting back a laugh. You never quite got why he had this little rivalry with Gale—besides the fact he wasn't overly fond of Gale's flirting attempts with you in the beginning, but that had long since subsided. To be honest, you think it's more routine than anything else at this point, for show and amusement; a friendly rivalry.
Slightly cold fingertips caught hold of your chin when you didn't answer, his thumb pressing against the corner of your mouth as Astarion held you. "Do join me, will you?"
The smile you still wore shifted into something sweeter, reserved only for him. And you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes momentarily. "I will… in a moment."
Astarion blinked at your briefly evasive answer, but nodded anyway, "I'll… be waiting."
He walked away, slow steps taking him towards the commotion around the campfire. You felt a little bad for denying him company right away, but it was for a good cause, you had to follow your streak of inspiration if you wanted to finish the drawing to the best of your abilities.
⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆
Dinner proved to be pleasant, tasty even, for Gale's culinary standards. This time of day had to be one of your favorites, with everyone sitting together around the fire at night and forgetting about life's misfortunes for a moment.
You sat by a rock, leaning your back against it as your shoulders shook with laughter at one of Halsin's stories. Astarion had plopped down by your side not long ago, the weight of his shoulder resting against yours as comforting as it always was. He took just a while longer to take your hand in his tonight, cold fingers hooking around yours and squeezing as he brought your joined hands to rest on his thigh.
Everything felt so new, you thought of yourself as a giddy teenager sometimes; heart fluttering with each lingering touch and stolen glance. For most of the time, you let Astarion set the pace of things, giving him the freedom to choose to be by your side. And there wasn't a time when he chose not to be.
He played with your fingers, palm to palm as if to compare sizes, alluring red eyes focused solely on where you touched. Innocent, boyish even. It was new for him too, you thought, perhaps much more than it would ever be to you.
And then your mind drifted back to the gift you had been steadily creating for him, excitement twirling in your stomach. You leaned closer, lips brushing the fabric of his shirt on his shoulder, "I'm gonna head to my tent for a bit, got a few things to organize. I'll find you later, yeah?"
A low hum fell past Astarion's lips, his eyes flicked to you, all big and vulnerable. "Oh, alright," his voice quiet and sweet.
You smiled, squeezed his hand, and planted a kiss on the corner of his lips. His eyes never left you as you walked away.
⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆
It had never been on his plans, falling for you. It wasn't even something he considered would happen when he first started to slip a few honeyed words your way. But then you threw his heart off course with your tender touches and whispers of comfort, leaving telltales of your warmth all over his cold body. And he was a goner.
The last time Astarion dared to care about someone, he endured a year of punishment locked away, alone, starving, and crying for help that wouldn't come. There had been a fear, clawing at the back of his mind as he watched himself crumble for you; a fear that this would end much the same.
When he finally bared his heart for you—shaking like a leaf with the proverbial organ stretched out in his hands—he expected you to deny him, scream at him, maybe even send him away.
You didn't.
You said you cared for him. You hugged him.
There was no one else in the world like you, he decided.
Three dangerous words lingered on Astarion's tongue each time he woke up to your sleeping form beside him. For the time being, he settled for kissing the shape of them into your skin, over and over, until maybe one day you figured it out.
He scoffed at himself, finally tearing his gaze away from where you sat on the other side of the camp. If his much younger self saw him now, he'd probably be laughing. Or he'd be very envious. No in-between.
Stars danced in the night sky, alongside a half-moon dusted with faint clouds. It was late, most of the group had already turned in for the night, with Karlach keeping watch, as much to her dismay, it was her turn.
Astarion ran his tongue over his fangs, grip tightening on the book he had in his hands. He'd been trying to read the same page for minutes now.
There was no one else in the world like you. He wondered when you'd realize that. When you'd realize that you were infinitely too good for the likes of him.
With a shiver running down his spine, Astarion worried that you might have started to.
It's been a few days now that you've been… distant; tucked away in your tent whenever you settled camp, not sparing him much time of day, at least not nearly as much as you used to.
With an annoyed click of his tongue, as he closed his book, Astarion realized he missed you, even with you sleeping side by side each night. How needy of him.
But he missed your mindless talks by the fire as everyone settled in for the night; he missed your walks through town just before sunset or sunrise; he missed the causality, the simplicity of calling you his. He'd gotten used to the sweet routine quite quickly.
The thought that you might already be growing tired of him made his dead heart clench agonizingly inside his chest. He glanced back at you, hunched over your makeshift desk as you scribbled something down in a book, Scratch lying by your feet. That is a kind of pain he wasn't sure he could endure.
Perhaps against his better judgment, his feet carried him to you anyway; yet he hesitated, words heavy on his tongue. Astarion stood awkwardly behind you, fidgeting with the edges of his shirt and praying that anyone who might still be awake wouldn't look this way. Scratch raised his head when the elf approached, a whine coming from him as his head tilted from side to side as if he wanted to ask what was wrong. Seems even the dog pities his predicament.
Old habits die hard and Astarion couldn't help but assume the worst, every time. He doesn't know how to be with someone, doesn't know the first thing about being in a relationship—was that what you two had? It's not like you ever labeled it. Maybe he did something wrong, and that's why you've been limiting your time with him.
"Astarion?"
With several blinks, his eyes focused again, only to see you regarding him with a frown, hand resting atop the closed book you had been writing in. Now your head was the one tilting inquisitively.
"Is everything okay?"
Still, your voice would always be sweetest to his ears.
Astarion shook his head softly to clear the fog his insecurities had brought and plastered a smile on his lips. "Of course, my darling," he approached, extending a hand to your sitting form and twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers, "I just think you should be getting your beauty sleep by now. Come warm up my bed, won't you?"
The faint blush that dusted your cheeks whenever he sweet-talked you would never cease to endear him. "We can read that book you're so fond of if you don't want to sleep, the cheesy romance one," Astarion purred, his pointer finger tracing the edges of your jaw.
You turned your head, planting a small kiss on his palm. "I'll be going soon, just want to finish something first. You can read without me, I don't mind."
But how could he ever tell you, that the words looked blurry and tangled without you by his side?
Longer than an hour had gone by when you finally decided to come to his tent. The night was mostly quiet, eery, with only the sounds of crickets, frogs, and the crackling of the dying fire. Astarion lay on his side, back turned towards the tent's opening. He didn't need sleep, not really, some meditation here and there would usually be enough to keep his energy up. But it was a habit he'd picked up when you started sleeping together through the night.
He wasn't asleep tonight, however. He heard your footsteps approaching him, quiet and cautious so as to not disturb him. He felt you lying down beside him, ever so slowly.
Astarion closed his eyes tightly, trying to hold himself back and failing miserably. One taste of your affection had been enough to get him hopelessly addicted.
He turned, shuffling closer and curling his body around you. His arm went over your stomach and tugged lightly, like a kitten asking for attention. You didn't say anything as you closed your arms around him, your lips finding the bridge of his nose and then his forehead. Words were futile when actions spoke the loudest.
Your gentle touches, the way you hold him without malice, he could hardly get enough of it. Your arms wrapped around him and your lips grazed his skin with lingering kisses, and it didn't hurt, it didn't burn or make him feel sick. You were the first one to ever do it, to hold him without hurting him.
Astarion nuzzled your neck, burying himself in the feeling, gladly drowning in it as he drank every last drop. Tears prickled his eyes, they usually did on nights like these and he's never quite sure why. Maybe it's because of the way your fingers gently tangled in his hair yet didn't tug or scrape; maybe it's the way you tighten your hold on him as if trying to mend his fragile heart; maybe it's because of how much he longed for someone like you to come and save him, on nights where all he knew were pain and unwelcomed caresses that scarred his skin more than any blade ever could.
And now, he wanted to lose himself in the comfort he found, that you so generously provided. His fingers closed forcefully on the fabric of your shirt, nearly ripping it, afraid you'd leave if he held you any looser. The fear of waking up alone and finding out that he'd lost you was all too consuming, tugging at his heartstrings.
He closed his eyes and rogue tears dampened the collar of your shirt. It was okay, it would be dry come morning, you wouldn't know. You were warm, you chased away everything that haunted him.
⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆
You stared at it intently. You have been staring at it for a while now, teeth chewing at the inside of your cheek in nervousness and anticipation. You checked it once, twice, turning the pages with careful fingers. The sketchbook wasn't filled, it would take too long to do so, but at least half of the pages inside it held some kind of scribble. Art pieces of various styles and levels of progression, some much more detailed than others, some mere hasty lines put together to paint a dear image you wanted to keep for a while longer. All of them of him. A book filled with the pointy ears and pale hair you adored so much.
You could only hope he would adore it just as much.
It was early in the morning and the day had yet to properly start. Most of your companions were still tucked away in their tents, some huddled around the burned logs of the fire from last night, coffee mugs in their hands and a sleepy look on their faces. You were never much of an early bird yourself, but today you made a point of rising before Astarion—you were lucky he'd picked back up the habit of sleeping and wasn't much of an early bird himself.
Hugging the sketchbook to your chest, you padded back to the warmth of his tent. As you opened the flaps, you were greeted with the sight of soft slivers of sunlight coming through the thinner part of the tent's fabric, they glimmered over Astarion's laying form, kissing his pale skin and making it shine.
You could easily get used to it; waking up to him, watching as the early morning rays painted his features golden, small wisps of dust flying in the air only giving him that bit more magical touch.
Astarion had his back to you, so you quietly kneeled beside him, extending a hand to run through his mess of curls; oh how soft they were, molding in between your fingers like seafoam on the shore. You counted yourself remarkably privileged.
You placed the sketchbook behind you so you could lie down, only keeping yourself up on one elbow. Your lips found his temple and the elf lightly stirred in his sleep. You kissed the tip of his ear next, waking him up gently. Always gently. He deserves gentleness.
With a hoarse groan, Astarion turned around to face you. He blinked several times as his ruby eyes adjusted to the soft sunlight, his face adorably scrunched from sleep. An easy, small smile appeared on his lips as soon as his gaze landed on you.
You weren't an early bird, yet you came to love the mornings, if only for this sight alone.
"Good morning, my star," you said quietly so as to not disturb the peace of the moment, still twirling a strand of his hair between your fingers.
He chuckled, "Good morning, beautiful." His voice all husky and deep, one hand finding your waist and trailing all the way up to your neck to pull you closer.
You kissed the corner of his lips and then the apple of his cheek, and Astarion's hold on you only grew tighter, pulling you on top of him. A welp escaped you as you laughed, nuzzling his neck before baring your teeth and giving him a playful nibble.
"Ow, you menace!" The vampire gasped halfheartedly, holding back a grin.
You pulled back from him with the ghost of a smile, bracing yourself on his chest. "I've got something to tell you."
His expression shifted to something you couldn't quite decipher, but he quickly masked it with a teasing tilt of his brows; "Oh? Are you gonna confess your undying love for me?" Both his hands brushed along the sides of your waist, gingerly raising your shirt as his pinkie grazed your skin.
"I thought we'd gone over that part already?" You teased back with a glint in your eyes, pushing yourself back up to sit beside him.
A whimper of complaint escaped Astarion when you separated, but he sat up with you anyway; his hair askew and all over the place, cheeks with the faintest flush to them, eyes just a little droopy, and… a strange stiffness to his shoulders. "What is it, my love?" He wondered, scrunching his nose endearingly when a piece of lint grazed it.
You squirmed in your seat; heart burning hotter than Karlach's in your chest, valves working overtime as the connection you shared enveloped you whole. You haven't actually told him how much you loved him, the four-lettered word hadn't been brought up yet, mostly for fear of the weight it held. But you wanted to, you've been feeling it for a while now.
"Well? Don't leave me in suspense," Astarion chuckled, but the sound didn't feel quite right to your ears, his smile wasn't reaching his eyes. And as you looked at him—one of his hands gripping tightly onto the fabric of his bedroll while the other tapped his knee incessantly; the ruby of his eyes almost nonexistent, covered by shiny black pupils as he looked intently at you, gaze filled with sentiment and vulnerability—you could notice it there now, that lingering fear of solitude gripping at his chest.
For a moment, you berated yourself, for you knew you'd spent quite some time on your little project, and maybe it had affected your routine more than you cared to admit. You felt a nagging guilt and sorrow for making Astarion even consider the possibility of loneliness again.
You tried shrugging it off. It would be worth it—and you'd be showering him with love and affection in just a moment anyway.
"I made something for you." The words rolled off your tongue more easily than you thought they would. You reached behind you with unsteady hands, heart in your mouth as you held onto your breath.
Astarion stared intently at the black sketchbook that was now clasped between your hands. He looked up at you, and back down, lips pursed in confusion.
"Ever since you told me… you haven't seen yourself in so long," you started, voice gentle as your thumbs traced the leather cover of the book. "And asked me how I saw you. I- I kept thinking about it and… when I found this," you wiggled the sketchbook in the air, "I guess I found a way of showing you…"
You extended the book for him to take, lowering your voice to a near whisper; "how I see you."
A short, trembled gush of air went past Astarion's lips. It was a difficult task to get him speechless, yet you had done it. He said nothing as he ever so carefully took the book from your hands, holding it as if the smallest wrong move could break it.
You watched as his throat worked through a heavy gulp, his eyes shining bright under the faint sunlight, swimming in a pool of sentiment and he hadn't even opened the book yet. Or properly looked at it, for that matter; his eyes still trailed on your face, as if waiting for confirmation that you meant it. Only when you gave him a tiny nod, did he finally look down. It hit you hard that this was probably the first gesture of this kind that he had received in his long life.
Shaky, pale hands reached to turn the first page. He hesitated for only a moment, almost looking afraid. About to see himself after 200 years of living as a ghost.
The first drawing you had made in the book wasn't your best, now that you looked down at it again; a simple portrait of Astarion looking down at a book in his hands, a little rough around the edges, hardly detailed. It had been your first try after not drawing for quite some time.
A beat passed, and a drop of water landed on the bottom corner of the page. You whipped your head up, only to see rogue tears steadily dripping down Astarion's cheeks until they reached his chin and fell on his lap. He cried silently, barely moving; the only signs being the obvious tears and the quivering of his lower lip.
He turned each page as if they were made from the purest gold. Stopping at every single drawing of him, to take it all in. He traced his fingertips over the lines that formed the curves of his curls, the tips of his ears, and the slope of his nose and lips.
People had referred to him as many things already; sexy, alluring, charming, attractive. Never had any of them referred to him as something… precious, delicate, bewitching, more than just a pretty face. Yet that's exactly how he saw himself now, through your eyes.
Astarion took his time, never speaking once. You let him, making yourself comfortable beside him and laying your head on his shoulder, simply existing in each other's presence.
Several minutes had gone by when the elf finally spoke up again. He was finally on the last used page of the book, and when the next appeared in white he slowly closed the book, still grasping onto it reverently. "For a moment I- I thought you'd grown tired of me already," it was the first thing he told you, and he refused to meet your eyes. A humorless chuckle fell past his lips, trying to laugh off his feelings.
You raised your head from his shoulder, lifting a hand to tenderly brush long strands of silver hair behind his ear; as you did so, you allowed your fingers to travel further, burying in the mop of hair behind his head. "Never. Never in a million years," you whispered.
Astarion met your gaze at last, ruby eyes glimmering with unshed tears while dried tracks of the ones before still lingered on his cheeks. This was the real Astarion; fragile, vulnerable, pleading for a gentle love, yet so beautifully strong.
"I'm sorry, my star. For allowing that thought to plague you. I just wanted this to be a surprise." You leaned forward and touched your forehead with his for a brief moment, hoping to bend the rules and physically give him your love.
"You made this," Astarion's voice broke in the middle, yet his smile was the most sincere you'd ever witnessed, "For me."
Catching a single tear that rolled down his cheek, you nodded, with a smile of your own.
There was a beat, a moment of silence where you simply looked at each other, wondering if the other felt just as much. And you didn't need a tadpole connection to confirm it.
Astarion set the sketchbook aside before all but throwing himself at you. Both his arms encircled your waist with desperation as he buried his head in your neck. His lips drew sloppy patterns and raised goosebumps in your skin as he kissed you relentlessly, from shoulder, to neck, to jaw; until he finally reached your own lips.
You brought your arms around him, pulling him in until your very souls were intertwined. Giggles escaped your lips as he kissed you, the shape of both your smiles making it difficult and all the more delightful.
When you parted, Astarion had you pinned down on his bedroll, with him resting snuggly on top of you. He refused to let go, clingy as he'd never dreamt he'd be. Your hand buried in his hair, his nose brushed the skin of your collar bone. "I had asked the gods for salvation, for any kind of blessing, countless times before. I could never guess it would come in the shape of you." He breathed in. He didn't hesitate. "Thank you. I love you."
You felt his smile. Felt the shape of his words on your skin, your soul. You kissed his hairline. "And I love you."
⋆* ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3
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sanguineterrain · 7 months ago
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Hi Sanne! I'm not sure if requests are open, but if you're up to it I'd like to request red hood x reporter! Maybe reporter reader is getting too close to a case and is starting to become a target and hood takes her protection into his own hands? ((Including lots of midnight rendezvous and rooftop bump ins))
i love this prompt sm! i've been thinking about a reporter reader ever since i read task force z :) thanks for requesting!
jason todd x gn!reporter!reader. tw: reader is attacked (but they're okay), guns, violence, fighting, jason being both a force to be reckoned with and a big softie. 2.5k words
****
"I don't need protection."
The Red Hood crosses his arms. You cross yours right back.
"Yes, you do," he says.
"No, I don't. I've lived in Gotham my whole life. I can take care of myself."
"Living around and being in the thick of violence are very different. You're already chasing this story; they will come after you."
And what a story it is. The story of the decade, at the very least. A task force of formerly-dead Arkham patients wielded against Gotham by a mysterious benefactor.
It's terrifying. It's dangerous. It's sure to win you your first Pulitzer.
And it all means absolutely nothing if the Red Hood keeps wrapping you in red tape.
Your jaw ticks. "This is my story, Hood. You can't turn it in, so I will. And I won't be scared off by some slimeball."
"Oh, please. You wouldn't even have known about this story if it wasn't for me, smarty."
Smarty. His favorite moniker for you because, according to him, you think you know everything.
Working with the Red Hood has been an unfortunate side effect of chasing your prize-winning story. Not only is he wanted in twenty-six countries (you Googled it) and is a ruthless crime lord (supposedly formerly, but you're doubtful), but worst of all, he's got an attitude to match yours.
He's also built like a tank, which is why you can't just. Outrun him.
"I can't just not publish the story," you say.
"I don't want to stop you from publishing the story. Hence the protection."
"I can't afford a bodyguard."
"Well, it's a good thing I already paid my rent this month."
You scoff. "The Gotham Gazette has a strict 'no armed and dangerous' policy. I'm afraid we all have to leave our gun-toting vigilantes at home."
You open the driver's door of your car, ready to end the conversation here and now. Hood calmly closes the door with his hip and leans.
You glare. "Get off of my car."
"Fact." He holds up a finger. "These kinds of people always strike before the story comes out. They know you're scared and stressed, and they wanna do it before the story gets out. Otherwise, it's obvious who killed who."
"And where did you read this fact? Crime Lord's Digest? We don't even know if they know I'm the reporter who broke into the lab."
"Listen, smarty, I've been in this game a lot longer than you. I know how they operate," he says, finally getting off of your car, only to lean on the hood. Jerk. "It's only a matter of time before whoever's behind this snuffs you out."
"I am not letting a wanted criminal nest in my apartment!"
"That's why I'd be there."
"I was talking about you, Hood."
"Funny."
"I'm not joking. Look, I appreciate your... help." You try not to show your exasperation. "But there's no way I'm inviting you over to my apartment. That'll set off more alarms. If anything happens, I'll call you. Until then, stay away. Deal?"
Hood looks you over.
"Hm. You're awfully comfortable with giving me orders, smarty."
Your adrenaline spikes for a second. But it quickly calms. You've worked with Hood for a month now. Sure, you were petrified the first week, but it quickly dissipated. You've fallen into an odd camaraderie with him.
It's actually kind of nice, having him on your side. No one at the Gazette gives you the time of day. You've become used to having a partner. Not that you'd ever tell him that.
"You take orders so well, I can't help but dole them out," you say, only a little smirky.
"Watch it," Hood rumbles, only half-serious. Probably.
You beam and wrench open your car door, sliding into the seat.
"See?" you say, turning the ignition. "No snipers waiting to take me out. I'll be fine."
He shakes his head and slides off the hood. "Ten bucks says they'll try by the end of the week."
You close your door. "You're on."
****
As it turns out, Hood doesn't need the end of the week to earn his tenner. Trouble breaks down your door the very same night.
You're on your couch with some well-earned Lebanese takeout when your door is ripped off of your hinges. You shoot up from the couch, chest immediately tight.
Your assailant is masked and isn't that typical, giving masked men everywhere a bad name.
You run to the kitchen, hoping you can grab a knife. But you're grabbed before you can get there. You slip on the carpet and trip further into your assailant's arms.
"Keep still so I won't make a mess," is all he says.
You start screaming. He covers your mouth and you bite his hand. That earns you a thump on your cheek, so hard your vision blurs.
Bang!
You freeze, expecting the warm drip of blood and the excruciating pain to accompany it. Instead, your assailant falls to the floor, clutching his ribs. You stumble backwards and see Hood at your door, gun still aimed. He stalks over and kicks the assailant in the chest as he does. The assailant groans.
"You okay?"
You're still staring at the man who very nearly killed you a minute ago. Blood roars in your ears. You think you might be close to fainting.
"Hey." Big, gloved hands hold your face. You flinch and hold the owner's wrists. Hood comes into view once more.
"Are you okay?" he asks firmly. "Look at me, look at me, sweet. Breathe. 'S okay. Does anything hurt? Did he—"
Hood cuts himself off as he touches your cheek, where you were hit. He lightly runs a thumb over what is probably a budding bruise.
Hood lets you go and whirls onto your attacker. He hauls him up and presses a gun to his stomach.
"Go ahead, shoot me!" the attacker shouts.
"If I shoot you, it won't be out of mercy. You won't get a quick death. You don't deserve it," Hood snarls, and you suddenly remember all of your good reasons for fearing the Red Hood.
"I ain't telling ya shit!"
"I don't expect you to," Hood says, and fires again.
The man crumples to the ground, but he's clearly still breathing. Still alive. Hood drags him to the door by his collar.
"You go back to your boss. And you tell 'em that they're fucking with the Red Hood now. And, in case I'm not being perfectly fucking clear through all that blood loss—" Hood grabs the man by his hair and wrenches his head back. "If you come for my reporter again, you'll wish I was kind enough to put a bullet in your head."
Hood hauls your attacker outside. You hear a car start a minute later, and it tears down the street.
You look at your guardian angel, spattered in blood.
Not nearly as much blood as I expected, you think manically.
Your body aches and shakes with adrenaline. You can't even get enough control to move to the couch.
"How–how did you get here so fast?" you ask, staring at your now cracked coffee table.
"I've been monitoring your apartment since you got home. One of the traffic cameras picked up a stolen vehicle turning onto your block, so I came here."
You look at Hood. He seems very collected, all things considered.
"You—how did you find my apartment? Have you been stalking me?"
"Please. Lend me a little credit, smarty. I don't need to stalk you to find where you live," he says, holstering his gun.
"Are you insane?!" you burst. "That is such a gross invasion of privacy! What the hell is wrong with you?"
Hood looks at you.
"What's wrong with me is I just saved your life," he says evenly. "And on that note, you owe me ten bucks. Maybe even fifteen, considering it took less than a day for them to do exactly what I said they would."
Your lip wobbles. You don't know what triggers it; maybe it's your scratched up door or torn sofa or the fact that the Red Hood is in your living room right now with blood on his suit.
The tears form quickly. You can't stop them.
You cover your face but a sob claws out of your throat. Soon, you fall into big, heaving cries.
"Whoa, hey." The floorboards creak under Hood's unsure footsteps. "Hey, I didn't mean that. Shit. I was just kidding about the bet part. Aw, don't cry, smarty."
A hand lightly touches your shoulder. You lean in, but don't dare to initiate more contact. So Hood eases you into a side hug, awkwardly patting your other arm. He's extremely warm and solid with muscle, but his chest is soft enough to rest your head on. He unclips his holster so it doesn't dig into your body.
"I was just kidding," Hood says quietly in your ear. He rubs your arm. "'M sorry. Didn't mean to make y'cry."
You sniff and shake your head. "No, it–it's not that, I'm just—God, I'm t-terrified, Hood. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? They're gonna kill me! I'm gonna die before I win my first Pulitzer!"
You try to suck in deep breath but it's not working. Hood leads your unsteady feet to the couch. You sit, fingers gripping his jacket. Hood carefully loosens your grip.
"They're not gonna kill ya, smarty. I won't let 'em. C'mon, let's have a seat. Where's your kitchen?"
You point, lashes still thick with tears. Hood leaves and returns shortly. A glass of water is held to your lips. You drink it, breathing stilted.
"'S okay. Take it easy. Breathe. That's right."
You swallow half of the water, and he sets the glass down on the coffee table. Hood hands you a wad of tissues.
"This is pathetic," you say, wiping your tears. "Can't believe I'm being nursed by the Red Hood."
"I think nursed is a strong word. But it's more than I usually do for my informants. Then again, they don't usually burst into tears."
"Don't make fun of me. I'm fragile."
"I wasn't making fun of you," Hood says, gentler than you've ever heard him. He puts the tissues aside and rests a hand on your shoulder. You turn into it, appreciative of the weight. "You handled this better than most people would. You didn't even pass out. Hell, I've passed out."
You're sure that Hood is leaving out important details behind that anecdote, like fighting off a hundred men or being swallowed by a whale beforehand. You're grateful nonetheless.
You turn to him, fresh tears in your eyes. "They're gonna kill me, Red."
He shakes his head. "No. Listen to me. Nobody is gonna do anything to you, okay? I'm not gonna let 'em hurt you, smarty pie."
"That's an impossible promise," you say. "One of these days, something will happen. You can't be everywhere at once. Especially not while I'm at home."
Hood tilts his head. "Well..."
"Well, what?"
He rubs his throat. An old injury, he'd once told you. The pain flares up sometimes.
"I could call in a favor. Get you into a safehouse."
"You would do that for me?" you ask. You probably shouldn't ask. Shouldn't look a generous vigilante in the mouth. But you can't help it.
"I can't very well publish the story myself, can I?"
You shrug. "I doubt that. You have your ways. Once you have the evidence, you don't need me."
"That's not true," Hood says fiercely. "I do need you."
Your eyes widen. Hood fumbles for a moment.
"That—I mean for the case. Obviously. I don't have any journalistic links besides you. And I wouldn't want the story to fall into the wrong hands."
"Oh." You have a strong urge to wrap your arms around him. Weird. "Well, um, thank you. I appreciate it."
"Don't thank me yet. It'll take me a few days to get the safehouse," he says.
You deflate. "Oh. So I have to stay here until then?"
Hood is quiet for a long time. So long, you briefly revisit your original theory that the Red Hood is actually an AI remotely controlled by a billionaire.
"Hood?"
You reach to touch him. He flinches, a tiny movement. You immediately draw back.
Nope. Still a man.
"Sorry," he says, hand slipping from your shoulder. "I was, uh, going over options. No, your place is toast until we find whoever's behind this. But, um, it would be possible for you to—if you want to, 'cause if you don't, y'know, I understand, but I—it would be doable for you to, uh, stay with me. Until I get the safehouse."
"Stay... in your apartment?"
"'S not far from here. And it's a hell of a lot better protected than your place. And, y'know, I'd be there most of the time, so like..." Hood clears his throat. "Uh, yeah. It'd be safe. I promise."
"I wouldn't want to impose," you say, nervously scratching your arm.
"Mm. If you're scared of staying with me, y'can just say so. I won't take it personal."
He does kind of sound like he's taking it personally.
"No, Hood, it's not that. I don't... I'm not afraid of you. That, uh, went away a while back," you say. "I just... I don't want to burden you. After all, it's your space."
He makes a sound that tells you he's rolling his eyes behind his helmet.
"Saving your life is important, smarty. Why you don't think so, I'll never know."
You make a soft, pleased sound. "Got a real bleeding heart there, Red."
He sighs. "Yeah. I'm working on it."
You grin. "Thank you for rescuing me."
"Part of the job. If you don't wanna stay with me, I could..." Hood hesitates. "With your permission... I could get the Bats involved. Ask one of them to house you."
"You mean Batman?"
Hood grunts. "Preferably anyone but him, but yeah, if it comes to that. He'll probably get involved anyway. Fuckin' busybody."
"The Bats would protect me? But they don't know me."
"Don't matter. If I asked them to, they would. If that's something you want."
You think. Is it something you want?
Sure, any reasonable person would prefer Nightwing or Batman to protect them.
"I don't want to stay with them," you say. "I'd rather stay with you."
He jerks like you've told him the sky is falling.
"You do?" he asks.
"Well, yeah. I know you, Red. And I know you'll keep me safe."
"At any cost," he says.
That simultaneously frightens and thrills you.
"Then I'd like to go home with you," you say. "If you'll have me."
"'Course, smarty. Anything to keep you safe. Go pack some stuff. I'll be out here. You're okay?"
"I'm okay." You stand and turn before he can see what he does to you.
Yes, it's an odd thing, being partners with the Red Hood.
You're starting to fear that you can't have it any other way.
(pt 2)
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