#Fairy Dress Tailor
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anime-to-the-t · 1 year ago
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xhoess · 2 months ago
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Falling for the Star
Nicholas Alexander Chavez x reader
Summary: You meet actor Nicholas Alexander Chavez at a gala, sparking an intense romance. As passion builds, you navigate the challenges of his fame, facing public scrutiny and personal doubts. Through steamy moments and emotional struggles, you both fight for a love that’s worth the spotlight.
Wc: 10.7 K
Smut, fluff, drammaaaaaa
The moon hung low in the Los Angeles sky, a silver crescent illuminating the sprawling city below. The air buzzed with excitement and anticipation as you cautiously approached the entrance of the exclusive charity gala at a luxurious rooftop venue. The invitation had arrived with bright golden lettering, but in truth, you had almost turned it down. The mere thought of mingling with celebrities, the glitterati, and Hollywood’s elite had been overwhelming. Nevertheless, a gentle push from a close friend, coupled with a curiosity that ignited within you, led you to this moment.
As you stepped through the large glass doors, the atmosphere enveloped you like a warm embrace. The soft notes of a live jazz band floated through the air, a blend of elegance and vibrancy. Lush greenery adorned the venue, with fairy lights twinkling like stars overhead, and champagne glasses clinking gently as laughter erupted around you. You took a moment to appreciate your reflection in the mirrored walls, wearing a stunning emerald green dress that hugged your figure perfectly. It cascaded to just above your knees, with delicate lace details accentuating your collarbone, making you feel both empowered and graceful.
You scanned the room, your heart racing, when your eyes caught sight of him — Nicholas Alexander Chavez. He was standing across the room, effortlessly charming, with an easy smile that lit up the dimly lit space. His attire was flawless, a tailored navy suit that complemented his physique, making him look like he had stepped right off a magazine cover. His dark curls framed his face, and the spark in his eye held an undeniable allure. You felt an involuntary blush creep up your cheeks as your gaze lingered, making you acutely aware of how stunning he truly was.
Just as you thought you might have imagined the connection, Nicholas glanced in your direction. His gaze met yours, and an electric thrill surged through you, igniting a pulse of energy that felt both thrilling and terrifying. You quickly averted your eyes, pretending to study a nearby artwork, though you could feel his stare still lingering.
With a deep breath to steady your nerves, you decided to get a drink from the bar, hoping to calm the fluttering in your stomach. The bar was swarming with well-dressed attendees, all lost in their own animated conversations. You ordered a glass of sparkling wine, and just as you turned to survey the party, you bumped into a broad shoulder.
“Whoa there,” came a deep voice, smooth as velvet.
You looked up, instantly recognizing the familiar face. Nicholas was standing right in front of you, a playful grin on his lips that made your heart skip a beat. “Looks like you’ve fallen for me already,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
You tried to keep your composure, laughing nervously as you brushed your hair back. “Well, I might be a clumsy drinker,” you shot back, a lightness in your tone that surprised even you.
“The drinks aren’t the only thing that sparkles here,” he replied, his gaze simmering with an intensity that made your cheeks flush. “I’m Nicholas, by the way.”
“Y/N,” you replied, your voice steadier than you felt.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said, leaning closer, the warmth of his presence enveloping you. “What brings you to this shindig? I’m sure you could have found somewhere more exciting to spend your evening.”
You chuckled, feeling more at ease. “Believe it or not, I was contemplating staying home and binge-watching my favorite series. But the charity cause pulled me in—along with the chance to dress up a little, I suppose.”
Nicholas raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “And what’s your favorite show?”
Do you really want to know? It’s quite embarrassing,” you replied, a sheepish grin spreading across your face.
“Embarrassing? Nah, I want to hear it,” he insisted, his playful demeanor captivating you further.
The conversation flowed easily from there, a delightful exchange filled with laughter and banter. It was clear that he was down-to-earth, someone who didn’t take himself too seriously despite his rising stardom. He listened intently, leaning against the bar with relaxed confidence that made you feel at ease.
As the night progressed, you found yourselves inching closer, the chemistry undeniable. With every stolen glance and shared laughter, the space between you seemed to shrink. Everything else faded away. Just as you felt the urge to lean in, the crowded bar suddenly erupted into laughter, startling you back to reality.
Nicholas chuckled, his gaze holding yours captive. “Looks like we’re commandeered. How about I steal you away for a moment before we get swallowed by the masses?”
“Lead the way,” you said, your heart racing as he gestured toward a quieter section of the venue.
Working through the sea of guests, you found a reprieve on a balcony that overlooked the stunning LA skyline. The city lights glimmered like a cascade of stars, and for a moment, it felt as if you were both the only two people in the world. The evening breeze danced around you, carrying the sweet scent of blooming jasmine from nearby plants.
Nicholas leaned against the railing beside you, a soft smile playing on his lips. "You know," he said softly, the music from inside blending into the background, "I’m glad you came tonight. You have this energy about you, something refreshing."
our heart fluttered at his words, the sincerity in his tone leaving a weight on your chest. “And I’m glad I bumped into you. I didn’t expect to meet someone like you tonight.”
Just then, the moment felt charged, his gaze intent as he held you captive. You could sense the potential for something deeper, something more than just a fleeting encounter at a glamorous gala. But before you could react, a friend called out for Nicholas, interrupting the silence that had built around the two of you.
With a reluctant smile, he turned back to you. “I have to go, but I hope we can pick up where we left off.”
Me too,” you replied, biting your lip, hoping it spoke volumes about what you felt.
He flashed that dazzling smile again. “Here’s my number. Call me. Let’s not let the night end like this, okay?”
You took the slip of paper, your fingers brushing against his as you felt a shiver of delight at the contact. “I definitely will,” you promised, watching as he faded back into the crowd, leaving you breathless and craving more.
The gala had been a whirlwind of elegance, laughter, and glittering lights. You had spent the evening swirling through rooms filled with celebrities, each moment feeling like a scene from a movie. But the real magic began when Nicholas Alexander Chavez approached you during the afterparty, his charming smile effortlessly stealing your breath away. Now, you found yourself on the rooftop of a trendy Los Angeles venue, the city sparkling below as the cool night air wrapped around you.
Nicholas's deep voice carried a playful tone as he arched a brow, “So, did you come here to dazzle everyone with your beauty, or is there a hidden talent I should know about?”
You chuckled, leaning back against the railing, your fingers brushing his casually. “Dazzling was the aim, but I didn’t expect to run into anyone like you tonight.”
The atmosphere was charged; the intimacy of the rooftop—complete with twinkling fairy lights strung overhead—set the perfect backdrop for your budding connection. Below, L.A. hummed with life, yet up here it was just you and him, everything else fading away.
“Tell me more. What’s it like being a dazzling star in your own right?” he asked, running a hand through his dark hair, drawing your attention to the way the moonlight caught the angles of his jaw.
What can I say? I’m just a regular person who got lucky,” you replied, trying to infuse some levity into the conversation even though your heart raced in his presence. “By day, I’m probably just a boring desk jockey, but at night…” you trailed off teasingly, “I become the queen of charity events.”
His laugh was warm, infectious. “A queen, huh? I’ve always wanted to meet royalty.” He leaned in closer, the scent of his cologne—a mix of cedarwood and something distinctly him—invading your senses. Living in a dream, you felt that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t break.
“I’m not sure how much royalty I am,” you said, feeling daring. “But I do know how to throw a fantastic ball.”
“Care to demonstrate sometime?" he winked, but then his smile softened. “I think it’s important for people to see beyond the lights and glitz. That’s what I try to show in my work too. There’s more to me than what’s at surface level.”
You considered his words, your gaze locked on the sincerity reflected in his eyes. “What do you want them to see?”
Nicholas ran a hand along the back of his neck, a habit you found endearing as he looked for the right words. “That I’m just… well, I’m just trying to figure it all out like everyone else. Being in the spotlight can make things so complicated.”
I can only imagine,” you murmured, absorbing the weight of his confession. It felt nice to know he shared this vulnerability, drawing you closer to him. The edges of the conversation had shifted, moving from playful banter to something deeper.
As he spoke, his hand brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through you. Time slowed as you both lingered over the lightest of touches, an entire world of unspoken words swirling around you.
Do you think the stars are what they seem?” he mused, his voice lowering as he locked eyes with you. “Or just another layer of a persona?”
Sometimes they seem so perfect,” you replied, barely above a whisper. “But underneath, they’re human too.”
Nicholas smiled, and in that moment, the air felt thick with expectation. He leaned closer, and you could almost taste the warmth radiating between you. The moment elongated, both of you dancing around your desire, a symphony of unfulfilled tension hovering just inches apart.
Then, the serene bubble popped with a shout from below; a group of fellow gala attendees had spilled onto the rooftop, laughter spilling and echoing into the night. The connection between you and Nicholas fractured. He stepped back, breaking the moment like glass shattering on concrete.
“Maybe we should join the party,” he suggested, though you could hear the hint of disappointment in his tone.
“Yeah, let’s not keep the others waiting,” you said, your own heart sinking at the missed opportunity.
But as you both made your way back downstairs, the chemistry lingered electric in the air, weaving around you like a warm embrace. Nicholas walked close; he brushed against you, and goosebumps raced down your arms. You caught fleeting whispers from the crowd as you rejoined—words of admiration and intrigue—as if the guests could sense the bubble of tension that encapsulated you both.
Each glance exchanged with Nicholas sparked further anticipation. You could feel his gaze on you, a warmth that made your cheeks flush. As the evening progressed, small moments of contact sent your heart racing. The lightest brush of his fingers on your back as you maneuvered through the crowd made your breath hitch.
Finally, the night reached its peak, and you found yourself standing at the edge of the rooftop once more, feeling slightly more at ease and anxious all at once. “Thank you for tonight; it was… amazing,” you said, leaning against the railing.
Nicholas turned to you, a soft smile curving his lips. “I had a great time too. But I have a feeling this is just the beginning, isn’t it?”
His voice held a promise that sent butterflies dancing in your stomach. “I hope so,” you replied, allowing a shy smile to break through your facade.
“I’d like to take you on a proper adventure,” he said, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “How about we escalate this?”
“Esclare? I’m intrigued.” You crossed your arms, wanting to feign nonchalance but failing miserably.
Tomorrow. Just you, me, and no distractions,” he proposed, excitement bubbling within you at the thought. This was more than just flirting; you could sense things moving to another level.
You could hardly find the words. “I’d like that.”
With a grin that lit up his face, he nodded. The tension hanging in the air was undeniable, and you felt it wrap around you like a heavy blanket woven from the threads of your growing connection. As he leaned close, just hovering as if weighing the options, the world faded into nothingness.
And just then, in that brief moment, everything felt just right. Because in this vast city of stars, you had found one that was distinctly Nicholas, and you were ready to explore wherever the night—or your blossoming relationship—might lead you next.
The sun dipped low in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue across your room as you stood in front of the mirror, scrutinizing your reflection. Tonight was more than just another evening. This was a date. A date with Nicholas Alexander Chavez, the charming actor who had stolen your attention—and heart—at the charity gala just days ago. You felt a delicious blend of nerves and excitement bubbling within you, urging you to make the right choice. After rummaging through your closet, you finally settled on a sleek, midnight blue dress. It hugged your curves just right, striking a perfect balance between elegant and alluring. The fabric shimmered slightly under the light, mirroring the glint of anticipation in your eyes.
As you finished your look with a swipe of lipstick and a hint of perfume, you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of what was to come. Nicholas was not only stunningly handsome but also had a down-to-earth charm that made your heart race. You picked up your phone, your fingers trembling as you checked the time. You were supposed to meet him at a secluded restaurant hidden away from the prying eyes of the paparazzi, a secret oasis in the bustling city.
The short drive to the restaurant was a whirlwind of thoughts racing through your mind. What would you talk about? Would he lean in closer like he did at the gala? Would you have chemistry over dinner? The mere thought made your heart flutter, and you could feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks.
The restaurant was everything you could have imagined and more. Nestled on a quiet street, adorned with twinkling lights and soft music, it had an intimate atmosphere that instantly set your nerves at ease. As you walked in, you spotted Nicholas seated at a small table in the corner, his dark hair tousled just right, wearing a casual yet stylish outfit that emphasized his toned physique. He looked up and met your gaze, his smile lighting up the space around him, and suddenly, all the anxious thoughts melted away.
“Hey, you look incredible,” he said, standing to pull out the chair for you.
“Thank you! You’re not so bad yourself,” you replied, your voice playful, but your heart raced at the closeness of him.
As you settled into your seat, the conversation flowed effortlessly. You spoke about the gala, sharing laughs over the awkwardness of celebrity encounters, and Nicholas shared funny behind-the-scenes stories from the show. There was an undeniable chemistry, a palpable tension that lingered in the air between you. You couldn’t help but lean in a little closer, wanting to soak in every detail of his expressions and the slight huskiness of his voice when he laughed.
The waiter appeared, taking your orders, but your focus remained on Nicholas, who effortlessly carried the conversation. He spoke of his childhood dreams, his journey into acting, and his love for the craft. “I never thought I’d end up here,” he admitted, his eyes twinkling with a mix of pride and humility. “It’s surreal, to say the least.”
“I can’t imagine how challenging it must be,” you said, genuinely admiring his dedication. “But I’m glad you’re here. You’re incredibly talented.”
The way his eyes softened at your words made your heart skip a beat. “I appreciate that. It means a lot coming from someone like you,” he replied, his gaze lingering on you, making the room seem smaller, just the two of you in your own world.
As dinner progressed, the food became secondary to the moments that were passing between you—slight touches when handing over his plate, the warmth of his gaze locking onto yours. Each shared smile felt like a silent promise, and you found yourself leaning in as if drawn by an invisible string. There was an undercurrent of desire, thick and tangible, yet neither of you was willing to break the spell just yet.
After the main course, you shared a decadent dessert—a rich chocolate lava cake—playfully feeding each other bites as laughter echoed softly around you. The sweet treat punctuated the sweetness blooming between you. The laughter faded into a comfortable silence, and in that moment, the world outside ceased to exist.
Nicholas studied you, his expression serious yet softening the longer he watched. “Can I ask you something?” he said, his tone turning unexpectedly sincere.
“Of course,” you replied, your throat dry with anticipation.
He leaned in, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “What do you want in life? Beyond what you do, beyond this moment?”
Your heart raced as you stared into his deep brown eyes, sensing the authenticity of his question. “I want to experience life fully. I crave adventure, connection, and authenticity—like what I feel right now.” You held his gaze, feeling exposed yet free.
“And do you feel that with me?” he asked, a slight smirk playing on his lips.
You bit your lip, nodding slightly. The air thickened with unspoken words, and as you opened your mouth to respond, your heart pounded in anticipation of his next move.
Just then, the waiter returned with the check, ruining the moment as you both leaned back, the tension momentarily shattered. After settling the bill, you found yourselves back on the sidewalk, the crisp night air washing over you as you walked under the stars.
Nicholas slowed his pace, walking closely beside you, the hum of the city fading into the background. As you approached your doorstep, the atmosphere became charged with unspoken possibilities. He turned to you, his gaze deep and sincere. “I had an amazing time tonight,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting into that smile that made your heart flutter.
“Me too,” you replied, trying to contain your excitement.
With the height of tension building, he stepped closer, your body instinctively responding to his proximity. His hand brushed against your arm, sending tingles through your skin. Time seemed to freeze, and you both leaned in, breaths mingling, hearts racing.
But then, a car passed by, its headlights illuminating the moment, reminding you both of the world outside. He didn’t pull away, but rather hesitated, drawn to you yet respecting the moment. “Can I…?” he began, stepping even closer, leaning in as though daring to close the distance between your lips.
“Please…” you whispered, your heart hammering against your chest, wanting nothing more than to feel the warmth of his kiss.
But then, he pulled back slightly, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I think I’ll save that for next time,” he said with a smirk, leaving you both breathless and wanting more, the promise of what was to come hanging in the air like the sweetest poison.
As you both stood there, the connection cemented, deepened yet oh-so tantalizingly just out of reach. You knew that this was only the beginning of a whirlwind romance that neither of you could resist.
The days after your last date with Nicholas were an intoxicating mix of anxious anticipation and exhilarating daydreams. He had called you the very next day, his voice smooth and inviting, as if the warmth of the previous night had never really faded. You felt the thrill of those moments linger in your veins, and every text he sent only stoked the flames of your imagination. It was with a flutter of nervous excitement that you prepared for this evening—a dinner at his cozy apartment.
Standing in front of your mirror, you ran a hand through your hair, taking in the reflection of your carefully chosen outfit. You had settled on a flowy, olive-green dress that hugged your curves just enough to leave an impression while still retaining an air of elegance. The fabric floated around your legs as you moved, and you decided on a pair of simple yet chic heels that accentuated the subtle tone in your skin. A touch of makeup polished your look, enhancing your features without overshadowing your natural beauty.
As you stepped out of your apartment, the evening sun cast a golden glow over the city. It seemed to mirror the excitement building within you for tonight. Each heartbeat was a reminder of what might lay ahead—a chance to get to know Nicholas in a way that was private and personal.
Nicholas' place was tucked away in a quieter part of Los Angeles, the streets lined with palm trees that swayed gently in the evening breeze. When you reached the front door, he opened it with a smile that lit up his whole face, making your heart skip. He was wearing a soft gray sweater that clung to his frame and fitted jeans, effortlessly stylish yet comfortably laid back. “You look stunning,” he said, his eyes dancing over your figure.
“Thanks! You clean up pretty well yourself,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in your stomach.
He ushered you inside, and it was exactly as you had imagined—stylish yet inviting, decorated in a way that felt uniquely him. The living room was warmed by soft lighting, highlighting the modern artwork that adorned the walls. A fluffy beige couch faced a modest kitchen where the smell of garlic sautéing filled the air. Nicholas grinned cheekily. “I hope you like Italian. I may have gone a little overboard with the pasta.”
You laughed, feeling instantly at ease. “I’m not complaining. It smells amazing!”
As he led you into the kitchen, the playful vibe between you flared like a spark. You slipped off your heels, enjoying the coolness of the wooden floor beneath your feet. “Let’s get to work, shall we?” he said, reaching for a bottle of wine.
“Wine first?” you teased.
“Only if you promise to help me cook,” he shot back, amusement dancing in his eyes.
You accepted a glass, savoring the way his fingers brushed against yours as he handed it to you; the simple gesture sent a jolt of electricity coursing through your body. As you both prepared dinner together, Nicholas cracked jokes about his culinary skills—claiming he was still trying to impress his mother—and you returned his playful banter, playfully questioning his choice of ingredients.
“Is this how you charm all the ladies?” you asked with a smirk as he accidentally spilled a pinch of salt into the sauce.
“Only the ones who can keep up,” he replied, winking at you, his gaze lingering just a second longer than necessary on your lips.
You could feel the warmth pooling inside you, a thrilling mix of nerves and intrigue. Raising an eyebrow, you leaned closer, close enough to catch the scent of his cologne mingling with the aromatic fumes wafting from the stove. “A challenge, huh? I think I’m up for it.”
His hand found its way to your waist as he moved around you, the touch intentional yet innocently casual. The heat radiated from where he held you, and the atmosphere thickened with unspoken desires, tension carved from every shared glance.
Dinner was a success—delicious and slightly chaotic, filled with laughter and lively conversation. Afterward, you both settled on the couch, the remnants of the meal cleared away. A bottle of wine was uncorked, and as the rich liquid flowed into your glasses, so too did the deeper conversations about life, ambition, and art. You shared pieces of yourself, opening up in a way that felt natural and liberating.
Nicholas listened intently, his focus unwavering, his eyes piercing through the dim light in the room. He shared stories from his childhood, the ups and downs of navigating fame, and the pressures that came with it. Each story unveiled another layer of the man you were growing to admire—not just his on-screen charm but the authenticity that lay beneath.
As the night wore on, the conversation took a flirtatious turn, lingering touches transitioning into palpable tension. The air was thick with anticipation, the quiet intensity building like a crescendo in a symphony. You could feel the magnetic pull between you, every brush of his hand against yours awakening a fire deep within.
In a moment that seemed suspended in time, he looked at you intently, a thousand emotions swirling in his gaze. “You have no idea how captivating you are,” he said softly, his voice low and husky.
Your heart raced, and you could barely find your voice. “And you have no idea what you’re doing to me,” you replied, your heartbeat hammering wildly in your chest.
Just as the tension reached its peak, it snapped, and before you could register what was happening, his lips were on yours, urgent and filled with the emotions that had been bubbling beneath the surface. The kiss was electric, igniting every nerve in your body. His hands cradled your face as if you were the most precious thing in the world, and you melted into him, shared moment of longing finding its release.
Your heart raced, and you could barely find your voice. "And you have no idea what you’re doing to me," you replied, your heartbeat hammering wildly in your chest. Just as the tension reached its peak, it snapped, and before you could register what was happening, his lips were on yours, urgent and filled with the emotions that had been bubbling beneath the surface. The kiss was electric, igniting every nerve in your body. His hands cradled your face as if you were the most precious thing in the world, and you melted into him, every shared moment of longing finding its release.
His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses. You gasped as his teeth gently nipped at your earlobe, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. "You're so responsive," he murmured, his voice laced with desire. "I love how you react to my touch."
You pulled him closer, your hands exploring the hard muscles of his back. "I want more," you whispered, your voice barely audible. Nicholas smiled, his eyes dark with lust. "I thought you'd never ask," he said, his hands moving to the hem of your shirt.
He lifted your shirt over your head, his eyes taking in every inch of your body. You stood there, vulnerable and exposed, yet feeling more confident than ever. His hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing against your nipples, making them harden instantly. You moaned, arching your back to press yourself against him.
Nicholas's mouth found your nipple, his tongue swirling around it before he took it into his mouth, sucking and nipping gently. You cried out, your hands tangled in his hair, holding him in place. He moved to your other breast, giving it the same attention, making you squirm with pleasure.
His hands moved down your body, tracing the curve of your hips before slipping under the waistband of your skirt. You gasped as his fingers found your clit, rubbing it gently through your panties. "You're so wet," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. "I can't wait to taste you."
He slid your panties down your legs, his eyes never leaving yours. You stepped out of them, standing before him completely naked. Nicholas knelt down, his hands on your thighs, spreading them apart. You braced yourself against the wall as his mouth found your pussy, his tongue licking you from your opening to your clit.
You moaned, your hips bucking against his face. Nicholas gripped your thighs tighter, holding you in place as he continued to lick and suck you. His fingers found their way inside you, pumping in and out, matching the rhythm of his tongue. "You taste so good," he murmured, his voice muffled against your skin.
You could feel your orgasm building, your body tensing as waves of pleasure crashed over you. "I'm close," you gasped, your hands clutching his hair. Nicholas looked up at you, his eyes filled with desire. "Come for me," he said, his voice commanding. And with that, you did, your body convulsing as your orgasm ripped through you.
Nicholas stood up, his lips covered in your juices. You pulled him into a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. "I want you inside me," you whispered against his mouth. He smiled, his cock hard and ready against your stomach. "I want that too," he said, his voice filled with lust.
Taste yourself on him, the taste of your desire and pleasure. He laid down next to you, his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close.
As your bodies cooled down, Nicholas whispered in your ear, "That was incredible." You smiled, your body still humming with pleasure. "It was," you agreed, your voice soft. Nicholas kissed your shoulder, his hand tracing lazy circles on your stomach.
The sun hung in the sky like a lazy star, casting golden rays on the bustling streets of Los Angeles. The city had a certain energy at noon—a buzz of laughter, chatter, and music that thrummed in the background as you and Nicholas made your way to a quaint café. You felt the familiar flutter in your stomach every time you laid eyes on him, this charming man who had flipped your world upside down since that fateful gala.
He was effortlessly stylish in a light denim jacket over a fitted t-shirt, his hair slightly tousled as though he’d just rolled out of bed. You, on the other hand, wore your confidence like your favorite dress; a royal blue sundress that swayed lightly with every step. The perfect dress for a casual afternoon felt like it had a purpose—to catch his eye, and today, it worked.
As you approached the entrance, Nicholas waved to a couple of fans who recognized him. They squealed in delight, their phones snapping pictures. A small smile played on his lips, but you could see the flicker of discomfort in his eyes. This was one of those moments when the reality of celebrity life hit hard.
You exchanged glances, your heart racing irrationally as he opened the door for you. “After you,” he grinned, revealing that perfectly straight line of teeth. Entering the café felt familiar and safe—a hidden gem filled with small wooden tables, rustic decor, and soft background music. As you settled in, the sunlight kissed your foreheads, creating a cozy atmosphere.
“So, are you ready for your first official sighting as my girlfriend?” Nicholas teased, leaning back in his chair, his arms casually resting against the wooden surface of the table.
Your cheeks flushed at that label—girlfriend. It was surreal how quickly everything had escalated since that magical charity gala. "I’m not sure I’m ready for the spotlight yet,” you replied cautiously, stirring your iced coffee with a straw, trying to mask the nervous excitement rising within you.
Nicholas leaned forward, his hair falling slightly into his eyes as he spoke softly, “You don’t have to be. I’ll protect you from the madness, I promise.” His intensity sent a jolt through you, an understanding of why you’d been drawn to this enigmatic man in the first place. There was sincerity in his voice like you were the only two people in the world at that moment.
You suddenly felt exposed in the café filled with fellow patrons, but the air between you shifted as he reached across the table and brushed his fingers lightly over your hand, a gesture so innocent yet electrifying. You fought to maintain composure; it was as if the world outside had faded away, leaving just the two of you drowning in each other’s gaze.
You laughed softly, attempting to lighten the mood. “What happens if we get caught in the act, huh? A scandalous photo of Nicholas Alexander Chavez holding hands with ‘mysterious girl’? That'll definitely pique the tabloids’ interest.”
His laughter echoed your own, bright and genuine. “Right? They’d paint me out to be a heartthrob dating a ‘nobody’—the things they’ll come up with!” He mirrored your playful tone, clearly enjoying the idea.
Just then, the bell above the café door jingled, and a few patrons turned their heads to you. You pressed your lips together, not wanting to draw attention but unable to hide your reaction. You required a steady heartbeat, but somehow, being out with him felt exhilarating, like you were both part of a bit of magical fiction.
After placing your order, you focused on light conversation, sharing stories of your work and traveling. But as you delved deeper, the atmosphere began to shift. You spoke of dreams and ambitions, and he listened with such intent that the heat between you grew palpable. It was as if you were no longer just a fan but two souls connecting, sharing experiences that transcended the celebrity facade.
“So, what’s your greatest dream?” he asked suddenly, his gaze unwavering, making you feel like the center of his universe.
“I suppose I want to create something…” you said hesitantly. “Something that resonates with people, like a book or a novel that could help someone out there feel less alone.” You bit your lip, unsure whether your vulnerability would push him away.
A smile of encouragement spread across Nicholas's features. “I love that. You have such a kind heart, wanting to uplift others. But I have to admit, I always thought your first dream would be to become an actress.”
You chuckled, shaking your head. “No, that’s definitely not my path. I’ll leave the acting to you.”
“But you’d be fantastic—give it a try!” His enthusiasm shifted the conversation’s tone.
At that moment, your eyes locked, and the world around you faded again. His compliment lingered. In a cacophony of noise, it felt serene, amplifying the longing and tenderness brewing in the air.
As you finished lunch, Nicholas paid the bill, but before you could rise, he leaned in closer, whispering, “Want to take a walk? I think we could enjoy this beautiful weather.”
You nodded, heart racing as the waiter smiled knowingly at you both. The walk turned into a leisurely stroll down the picturesque street, but the quiet chatter and laughter from other customers filled the air. As couples passed, holding hands and giggling, doubt crept in. Would you fit into his world? Did you belong in a love story where the media followed every footstep?
Suddenly, someone shouted, “Nicholas!” from behind. You turned to see a group of people snapping photos and shouting questions.
Nicholas held your hand tighter, his protective instincts kicking in as he led you away, heart pounding. “Don’t worry; I won’t let them overwhelm you,” he reassured you, leading you down a quieter alleyway.
“Hiding from the paparazzi already?” you teased, the wild energy of the afternoon igniting a playful spark.
“I think for now, it’s better to avoid the spotlight… but I promise we’ll get used to it together.” He winked, the cheeky grin returning to his face.
Just then, you felt it—his fingers brushing lightly against yours as you navigated the narrow space between two buildings, the electricity crackling and their connections sparking:
His eyes met yours, the air growing thick with unexpressed emotions and unspoken promises. It was a moment that reminded you there was still magic in the world.
As you turned, you collided against him, leaning into his warmth, your pulse racing. “You’ll keep me safe, right?” you murmured, inviting vulnerability.
“Always,” he whispered, leaning ever closer, tantalizingly close yet challenging the rules of what was appropriate.
And in that sanctuary away from prying eyes and flashing cameras, you both indulged in the escalating tension, knowing the path ahead lay somewhere between public dreams and private desires. You were ready to embrace it.
The early morning sun poured through your window, casting a warm glow across your room. The excitement bubbling in your stomach was contagious, filling your thoughts as you prepared for a weekend that promised to be life-changing. Nicholas had invited you to a secluded beach house for a romantic getaway, a break from the intensities of the public eye and the constant buzz of Los Angeles. This was your chance to explore what had been building between you, surrounded by soft sand and the gentle sounds of the waves.
You slipped into a light sundress, the fabric flowing gracefully around your legs as you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. The vibrant colors highlighted your features, and you couldn’t help but smile at your reflection. Today wasn’t just another day; it was the beginning of an escape, a chance to relax and truly be yourself around Nicholas.
Arriving at the meeting point, you spotted Nicholas standing by his car, his face lit up with that captivating smile that made your heart race. He wore a casual ensemble: fitted jeans and a simple white T-shirt, yet he looked effortlessly handsome. As you approached, he greeted you with a warm hug, and a rush of butterflies fluttered through your stomach at the contact.
“Ready for the best weekend of your life?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.
You nodded, unable to form words. Instead, you climbed into the passenger seat, unable to suppress a grin as he slipped into the driver’s seat beside you. The car hummed to life, and with a quick glance your way, he put on a playlist of lighthearted tunes, instantly setting a cheerful tone for the road trip ahead.
As you pulled away from the city, the congested streets gave way to open roads flanked by tall trees and endless skies. You chatted about everything and nothing, laughter spilling easily between you—stories about childhood, your favorite places, dreams you hadn’t shared with anyone before. With each passing mile, your connection deepened, growing from a spark to a flame.
“Do you ever get used to the whole celebrity thing?” you asked, curiosity guiding your question.
Nicholas chuckled softly, his hands tightening around the steering wheel. “Honestly? Sometimes it feels like a double life. The lights and glamour, yes, but then there’s just normal me, you know? I love moments like this—away from it all."
His candidness made you smile. “I can only imagine. What do you do to escape?”
He glanced at you, a playful glint in his eye. “I’m a pro at finding cozy little spots. But nothing quite like this weekend—with you, everything feels just right.”
The complimentary exchange of your thoughts flowed effortlessly, a gentle rhythm establishing between you both. Just as the sun began its descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you arrived at the beach house, a charming retreat nestled on the shore. The scents of salt and sea breeze welcomed you as you stepped out of the car.
“Welcome to paradise,” he declared theatrically, throwing his arms wide to encompass the view. The house was stunning, with large windows that framed views of the ocean, its soft roar beckoning you forward.
You took in the surroundings, feeling the magic of the setting. It was everything you’d dreamed of for a special weekend. Inside, the decor was warm and inviting, a mixture of coastal charm and modern amenities. Nicholas stepped over to the kitchen, a place where the evening’s culinary adventure would soon unfold
kitchen, a place where the evening’s culinary adventure would soon unfold.
“Any requests for dinner?” he asked, already pulling out pots and pans as if he had been preparing for this moment.
Your eyes lit up. “Surprise me! Just nothing too spicy—I’m not great with heat in my food,” you replied, good-naturedly teasing.
s he began preparing the meal, the kitchen transformed into a lively atmosphere. You took a content seat on the counter, watching him work. “You’re quite the chef,” you commented, impressed as he expertly diced vegetables, contrasting with the actor persona you had become accustomed to seeing on-screen.
“Oh, I dabble. Cooking is one of my favorite escapes. Want to help?”
He reached out, grabbing your hands and pulling you down to the floor, guiding you to stand beside him. The two of you continued the evening, creating delicious dishes and sharing flirtatious banter, his playful touches igniting electricity between you as he moved in close, his hands often resting on your waist or brushing your arms.
As the aromas of a delightful meal filled the air, the atmosphere gradually shifted. Dinner was served on the terrace, a beautiful candlelit setup overlooking the ocean. The flickering lights danced softly in the evening breeze, creating an intimate sanctuary away from the world.
With each bite, your conversation took on a deeper tone, revealing your hopes, dreams, and fears. Nicholas shared stories about his upbringing, moments that shaped him, and you reciprocated with your own stories, revealing layers of your life you rarely discussed. There was raw honesty in your exchanges, and the chemistry between you both became palpable.
Eventually, you transitioned from the terrace to the cozy living room, still wrapped in the warmth of each other’s company. A half-empty bottle of red wine sat on the coffee table, two glasses clinking softly as you filled them. Sparks of laughter and connection intertwined as you prepared to settle down.
Finally, as he leaned back against the couch, he turned toward you, a serious look replacing the lighthearted atmosphere. “Can I tell you something?” he asked, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.
You nodded, curious.
“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. There’s something about you, something that pulls me in.”
Your heart raced, the raw honesty of his admission echoing loudly in the stillness of the room. You shifted closer, his gaze intoxicating.
“Me too, Nicholas,” you whispered back, your pulse quickening.
In that charged moment, the world melted away, leaving only the two of you suspended in time. Nicholas leaned in, brushing a stray hair behind your ear with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. The tension between you escalated, magnetic and electric.
He paused, searching your eyes for permission. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and there was no denying the longing that sparked in the air.
Then, in an instant, all the teasing and banter that had built up between you both broke free. His lips met yours in a flurry of passion—soft, sweet, then deepening as he cupped your face in his hands. You melted against him, surrendering yourself to the intoxicating warmth of the moment. Yet, just when things began to escalate, you pulled away, breathless.
Time skip
It was one of those gloomy afternoons when the clouds hung low like a shroud over the bustling city. You had planned to spend the day curled up with a book and a cup of coffee, a comforting escape from the whirlwind of emotions that had become your life since dating Nicholas Alexander Chavez. However, as you scrolled through your phone, your relaxed intentions swiftly turned into a sensation of dread.
Your heart sank as you stumbled across the latest gossip blog, its headline screaming about Nicholas’s alleged romantic involvement with a co-star on set, someone whose name you recognized all too well. The article painted a scandalous picture, dripping with insinuation and wild conjecture. The infamous paparazzi photos were splashed across the screen, showing them laughing together: a moment that seemed innocent enough but was now twisted into a narrative that pricked at your insecurities.
hough you knew better than to believe everything you read, the fear gnawed at you. How could you ignore the whispers that echoed through your social media feed, fueled by both envy and intrigue? Your relationship with Nicholas had come with its share of challenges, but today felt particularly heavy.
You tossed your phone down, feeling the walls of your small apartment closing in. The truth was that the euphoria of dating a celebrity was fading, and the pressures were beginning to take a toll. You felt like a shadow of your former self, scared that the spotlight on him would ultimately burn you both.
Later that evening, you found yourself standing in the kitchen, the scent of spaghetti sauce filling the air, an attempt at normalcy. Just as you were about to plate up dinner, your phone buzzed on the table. It was a call from Nicholas, and your heart quickened.
“Hey,” you managed to say, feigning nonchalance.
“Hey, you! I just wrapped up for the day. How are you?” His voice was warm, inviting, grounding, despite the distance.
You took a deep breath and forced yourself to reply with enthusiasm, but the words caught in your throat. Silence stretched between you two as you contemplated how to broach the topic that loomed between you. Nicholas finally broke the silence, concern lacing his tone. “You there?”
“Yeah, just… saw something online.” You could hear the pitiful waver in your voice.
“What did you see?” He sounded wary, the weight of his career pressing down on both of you even over the phone.
You took another deep breath, knowing you had to be honest, yet fearing the repercussions. “The rumors about you and Jade …”
“Jade?” His voice instantly hardened, the warmth vanishing. “What rumors?”
You quickly explained the article, feeling more exposed with each word. You could almost feel him stiffen through the line as he processed the information. “That’s insane. It’s purely professional. We’re acting, Y/N! It’s work!”
“I know that,” you responded, a twinge of frustration creeping into your voice. “But everyone else doesn’t. I can’t— I don’t think I can handle this. All this scrutiny… it’s overwhelming.”
There was a heavy silence before he spoke again, his voice brimming with tension. “So you’re just going to believe what strangers think? I thought you knew me better than that.”
our heart raced as you protested, “It’s not that easy! You’re living in a different universe! I’m just… just trying to figure out if I fit into it.”
Are you saying you don’t want this?” His voice cracked, and you could feel the heat of the confrontation rising.
“I don’t know!” Tears pricked your eyes. “Maybe I’m just scared… scared that this isn’t real, that I’m just a passing thought for you.”
“Y/N, please—don’t say that.” His voice softened as if he could sense the fracture in your heart. “You’re not a passing thought. You’re everything to me. I’m just trying to keep everything balanced.”
“Is that really what this is about?” you asked, barely above a whisper. “Can you even make time for me with your crazy schedule?”
“I’m trying!” he snapped back, frustration spilling into the conversation. “Can’t you see I’m trying?”
The emotional storm swirling around you started to feel unbearable. “You’re not the only one who’s struggling, Nicholas. I love you, but I can’t keep fighting this war of doubts, not when every new headline feels like a dagger to the relationship we’ve built.”
His silence felt as heavy as the dense clouds outside. Finally, he sighed deeply. “I wish you could see how much I want this to work.”
Then show me,” you challenged, your voice trembling with vulnerability. “Show me how much I matter.”
A long pause hung in the air before he said, “I need you to trust me, Y/N. I’m all in—just give me the chance to prove it.”
The tension was palpable, a push and pull of raw emotions crashing in waves against the shore of your relationship. You both wanted to bridge the gap, but scarring doubts lingered like ghostly whispers, refusing to be easily banished.
“Alright,” you finally breathed, torn between belief and fear. “I’ll try.”
Good,” he replied softly, the warmth creeping back into his voice. “Just don’t shut me out, okay?”
“I won’t. I promise.” With that, you decided to let the conversation end for now. A bittersweet sense of hope flickered within you, but still, the tension lingered, unresolved, heavy between you like a storm waiting to break.
As night fell, you wrapped your arms around yourself, wishing for clarity. Your heart ached with uncertainty, leaving you to wonder if love could be enough to weather the darkest clouds. You just hoped that amidst the chaos, Nicholas would find a way to show you that your place in the storm was secure.
long shadows cast across your living room as you sat curled up on the couch, surrounded by a fortress of pillow cushions. The remnants of a half-eaten tub of your favorite ice cream lay abandoned beside you, and the TV buzzed in the background, but you couldn't concentrate on the screen. Your mind was tangled in knots, replaying everything that had happened in the last couple of weeks since that fateful argument with Nicholas.
He had stormed out after you accused him of being too wrapped up in his fame and his new co-star, Jade. You hadn't meant it to sound so harsh, but doubt had crept in, nurtured by the gossip blogs that twisted every picture of Nicholas and Jade into scandalous narratives. The backlash on social media was relentless, and it had hurt to see the way his fans celebrated every interaction with her. The moment had spiraled out of control, and you hadn’t seen him since.
Part of you had fought to suppress the nagging voice that whispered you were better off without him. But deep down, you knew that was a lie. Your heart ached with longing; the laughter you shared, the way his dark eyes sparkled when he told you stories from the set, and the intensity of the moments when it was just the two of you. It all felt like a dream slipping away and leaving nothing behind but confusion.
As you stared wistfully out of the window, a sudden vibration from your phone nearly startled you, pulling you from your reverie. Your heart raced as you picked it up. The screen lit up with Nicholas’s name, and for a moment, you hesitated. A part of you wanted to ignore it, to keep your distance and maintain the facade of being strong and self-sufficient. But the longing was almost unbearable, and you answered.
“Nicholas,” you breathed, your heart hammering against your ribcage.
Y/N,” he replied, his voice warm yet laced with an urgency that set you on fire. “Can we talk?”
“Yes,” you whispered, emotions swirling like a tempest inside you. His tone seemed both reassured and uncertain, a blend that made your stomach churn with anxiety. A few moments later, he announced, “I’m on my way.”
You nearly dropped the phone, panic intertwining with excitement in your chest. “Where? How?”
Just… meet me outside?” The call ended abruptly, leaving you both exhilarated and apprehensive. You sprang to your feet, the ice cream forgotten, rushing to compose yourself. You combed your fingers through your hair and replaced your sweatpants with a casual but flattering outfit. The wait felt like an eternity as you hovered near the window, glancing outside between drags of breaths.
Then you saw him, stepping out of an Uber, his familiar silhouette striking against the late afternoon sun. His hair tousled and a hint of stubble adorning his jawbone, he looked as if he had just walked out of a magazine cover—stunningly recognizable yet painfully human all at once. Your pulse quickened, a rush of love and anxiety engulfing you, surfacing just as he approached your door.
When you opened it, he stood there, his face a mixture of determination and vulnerability that tugged at your heartstrings. The moment hung heavy between you, neither of you quite ready to bridge the gap that had formed during your time apart.
“Can I come in?” he asked softly.
You nodded, stepping aside to allow him entry, and as you closed the door, a weight settled on your chest. He turned to face you, and in that instant, memories of laughter and shared moments flooded back, heavy with what you both had built amid the chaos of his celebrity life and escalating pressures.
Look,” Nicholas began, running a hand through his hair, a gesture you recognized as one of frustration. “I flew back from shooting just to talk to you. I needed to understand why…” He trailed off, searching for the right words.
“Why I doubted you?” you supplied, your voice catching in your throat. “Why I called out your relationship with Jade as something it wasn’t?”
Exactly.” He drew closer, his intensity drawing you into a whirlpool of emotions. “You have every right to feel insecure, and if I made you feel that way... I’m sorry. But I want you to know it’s always been you for me. The glimpses of my world you saw were never meant to keep you out. It was never just publicity for me. This…” He stepped back slightly, motioning between you two. “This is real.”
Tears stung your eyes at the sincerity of his words. “What about the rumors? People say…”
People say a lot of things. I let the noise drown out our silence. I thought I could handle it, but losing you... it’s the worst part of all this.” His voice smoldered beneath layers of vulnerability. “I’d give up everything if it meant keeping you close.”
You swallowed hard, the echoes of his confession wrapping around your heart. “But can we manage this? Can love withstand all the chaos surrounding you?”
He took a step closer, invading the space with his presence, his warm breath mingling with yours. “We can fight for it. The world can be loud, but I want every moment I can steal with you. The quiet parts. The messy ones. The fights when we disagree. All of it.”
He was close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his skin, and for a moment, everything else faded—the doubts, the scrutiny, the world outside. It felt just like those stolen moments you had experienced before. “What if I can’t handle the spotlight?” you asked, your heart racing as you met his gaze.
Nicholas took your hand gently, brushing his thumb along your knuckles. “Then I’ll ensure you never have to face it alone. I’ll be there, holding your hand through every ordeal, every misunderstanding. We can figure this out together.”
His voice dropped to a husky whisper that made your heart flutter. The intensity between you was palpable, the distance collapsing into closeness until your lips were just inches apart. Your breath mingled with his as the weight of uncertainty melted into a spark of connection.
“I might need some convincing,” you teased lightly, searching for a way to ease the tension that had built. Nicholas grinned, and that boyish charm made your insides tingle.
"Then allow me." He closed the gap, capturing your lips with his, the kiss igniting everything you had been missing—desire and warmth swept over you like an all-consuming flame, melting away your fears. It was electric, each brush of his lips reminding you why you had fought so hard against doubt.
His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as his tongue teased your lips. You parted them, inviting him deeper, and he accepted the invitation with a hungry groan. His fingers trailed up your back, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, before they tangled in your hair, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss.
You melted into him, your body pressing against his as your hands explored the contours of his chest. The feel of his muscles beneath your fingertips made you ache for more. You broke the kiss, gasping for breath, and he trailed soft kisses down your neck, making you shiver.
You taste amazing," he murmured, his voice laced with desire. "I could kiss you all night."
And I could let you," you whispered back, your voice barely audible over the music. "But I have a feeling there's more you want to do."
He chuckled, a low, throaty sound that made you shiver. "You're right, I want to see you," he said, his voice rough with need. "Every inch of you."
You smiled, slowly unbuttoning your blouse as his eyes followed your every move. He reached out, helping you slip it off your shoulders, his fingers brushing against your skin and sending shivers down your spine.
You're gorgeous," he said, his voice barely a whisper as he traced the line of your bra with his fingertips. "And I want to taste every inch of you."
He leaned down, his lips claiming yours once more as his hands unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the floor. You gasped as his mouth found your nipple, his tongue circling the sensitive bud before taking it into his mouth. You arched against him, a moan escaping your lips as he sucked and teased, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and dip as he made his way down to your waistband. He unbuttoned your jeans, his fingers brushing against your skin as he slid them down your hips. You stepped out of them, standing before him in nothing but your panties.
He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire. "You're amazing," he said, his voice a low growl. "And I want to make you feel amazing."
He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down until they joined your jeans on the floor. You stood before him, completely naked, as he took a moment to appreciate every inch of your body.
"You're perfect," he said, his voice a low murmur. "Absolutely perfect."
He led you to his bed, laying you down gently before joining you. His hands explored your body, his touch gentle yet firm as he traced the line of your thigh, his fingers brushing against your most intimate place. You gasped, your hips arching against his touch as he slipped a finger inside you, his thumb circling your clit.
You're so wet," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "So ready for me."
ou nodded, your breath coming in short gasps as he added another finger, his pace increasing as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. You could feel the pleasure building, your body tensing as you teetered on the brink.
Come for me," he whispered, his voice a command as his thumb pressed against your clit. You cried out, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over you, leaving you breathless and trembling.
He kissed you gently, his fingers still inside you as he slowly pulled them out. You could feel the emptiness, the ache for more, and you knew that you wanted him inside you.
e rolled onto his back, pulling you on top of him. You straddled him, his cock hard and ready against your entrance. You guided him inside, gasping as he filled you completely. You began to move, your hips rising and falling as you found your rhythm.
He gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he met your thrusts, his cock sliding in and out of you with a wet, slapping sound that filled the room. You could hear your own moans, the sound of your breath as it caught in your throat, the feel of his cock inside you sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.
"Faster," you gasped, your body aching for more. "Harder."
He obliged, his hips thrusting upwards as he met your downward strokes, his cock slamming into you with a force that made you cry out. You could feel the pleasure building again, your body tensing as you rode him, your fingers gripping his shoulders for support.
Yes," you gasped, your body convulsing as another orgasm washed over you, leaving you breathless and shaking. You could feel him inside you, his cock pulsing as he found his own release, his body tensing as he came with a low groan.
You collapsed against him, your body slick with sweat as you struggled to catch your breath. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you both came down from the high.
"That was amazing," he said, his voice a low murmur as he kissed the top of your head. "Absolutely amazing."
You smiled, your body still tingling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. "It certainly Was"
Nicholas drew you closer, kissing you deeper, his hands weaving into your.
“Let’s not let anything come between us again,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours.
“I want that too,” you replied, the tension of unresolved issues still swirling in the air. But there was something vibrant, something alive in the way his gaze held yours.
Nicholas paused, his expression turning serious once more, “I’ll fight for you, Y/N. Always.”
_________
BYEEE LONGEST FIC EVER.. #needthat
Comments are much appreciate I love it 😋
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won4kiss · 21 days ago
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﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ────THE BEST GIFTS AREN’T UNDER THE TREE.
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୨୧ SYPNOSiS. you and park sunghoon don’t exactly get along. you’re coworkers who seem to have nothing in common— polar opposties. he’s the polished guy from a wealthy family, while you’re just trying to make ends meet and keep your personal life private. but when an awkward run-in at the pharmacy reveals more about your struggles than you ever wanted anyone to know—maybe he wasn’t as bad as you thought—maybe the person who drives you the craziest might just be the one who gets you best.
୨୧ PAiRING. enemy! park sunghoon x fem! reader, rich!sunghoon x not very rich! reader, type 1 diabetic! reader.
୨୧ GENRE. office romance, enemies to lovers, fluff & christmas romcom hallmark movie themed, minimal angst.
୨୧ WARNiNGS. profanities, kissing, yn is a little mean.. type 1 diabetes mentioned, struggles with money, ignorant hoon, not proofread.
୨୧ WORD COUNT. 8,106 / 8.1K
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𝓟𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗟i𝗦𝗧 ﹕ last christmas, wham. it’s beginning to look a lot like christmas, michael bublé. you’re so vain, carly simon. unwritten, natasha bedingfield. suburban house, holly macve, ldr. just the way you are, bruno mars. can’t help falling in love, elvis presley.
NOTE. i know it’s a bit early.. but i literally couldn’t help myself i love love love christmas!! 🤓☝️thank u guys for the support on the teaser <3 i strongly recommend reading it before u begin this!! enjoy hehe ^-^
LiBRARY | © WON4KISS all rights reserved
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THE OFFICE FELT ALIVE WITH THE PULSE OF CHRISTMAS.
fairy lights draped the edges of cubicle walls, casting warm hues across the room, and garlands hung over doorways, filling the space with a faint hint of pine scent.
the air had an almost electric feel—holiday music blasted softly from someone’s desk speaker, and laughter echoed from the kitchen, where the holiday potluck was in full swing. ── 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖳 𝖡𝖤𝖫𝖮𝖶!
you took it all in with a quiet sense of satisfaction, enjoying the warmth of the season.
for a few minutes, at least, the festive atmosphere helped you push aside the stress and exhaustion that had weighed on you lately.
financial strain and the challenges of managing your type 1 diabetes were constant pressures, but they were your private burdens, things you carried alone.
here, in the office, you could leave them behind, escape reality—or at least pretend to.
with a sigh, you pulled your scarf off and hung it by your desk, feeling the familiar vibration of your blood glucose monitor.
you checked the reading—steady, for now.
relief was brief, though, as you were quickly reminded of the pharmacy bill due at the end of the month, a larger sum that had grown even more unreachable since your insurance provider had started making cuts.
“hey! finally decided to show up?” a smooth voice cut through your thoughts, laced with the perfect blend of mischief and a hint of mockery.
you turned to see park sunghoon, leaning against the divider between your desks with his signature smirk.
he was dressed in a no doubt expensive, tailored coat, his dark hair disheveled in that way that looked both casual and wealthy.
sunghoon’s presence was an unmistakable reminder that you were, as always, worlds apart.
“yes, i thought i’d take pity and show my face,” you shot back, crossing your arms with an eye-roll. “wouldn’t want you to get too comfortable doing all the work without me.”
“oh, please. like i’d ever let you have all the credit,” he said, grinning as he pushed himself off the desk.
sunghoon’s wealth was an open secret around the office, though he rarely discussed it openly.
still, the designer clothing, the luxury watches, and the effortless way he carried himself spoke volumes.
he was someone who had grown up with privilege in a way you could barely fathom, and sometimes, it felt almost as if he enjoyed reminding you of it.
it was always little jabs, little comments—things he likely didn’t realize cut deeper than intended.
you let out a sigh, unwilling to let him get under your skin today, especially when the holidays usually put you in a good mood.
ignoring his stare, you logged into your computer and prepared for the day’s tasks, hoping he’d get the hint and leave.
but sunghoon didn’t move. instead, he watched you, brows slightly raised, as if daring you to keep ignoring him.
finally, he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur.
“so, what’d you bring for the potluck? or is this going to be another year of pretending you’re too busy to participate?” he teased, a glint in his eye.
you bristled, annoyance prickling at your skin.
sunghoon didn’t know, of course, that you’d barely managed to scrape together enough for groceries this week, let alone something special for the potluck—but his words hit a sore spot nonetheless.
“not that it’s any of your business,” you replied with gritted teeth, meeting his gaze, “but i’ve been a little… preoccupied with other things.”
“oh? too busy for christmas spirit, mrs. grinch?” his smirk softened just a little, but the teasing tone remained. “how tragic. i can’t imagine a holiday without going all out.”
“yeah, well, maybe some of us have other priorities.”
he tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his expression—you could tell he was on the brink of pushing further, maybe digging into what those priorities might be, but before he could, a group of coworkers filed into the room, breaking the tension between you.
after a few hours of emails and spreadsheets, you slipped away for a quick break, heading to the break room.
as you made your way down the hall, you thought about the other expenses coming up—the overdue pharmacy bill, the rent check, and the dozens of smaller costs that added up so fast it felt impossible to keep up.
you’d learned to carry these worries quietly.
no one in the office had ever seen you let your guard down, and you’d grown so used to putting on a brave face that sometimes you believed it yourself.
in the break room, you reached into your bag, pulling out a small protein bar that would have to suffice as lunch.
you barely had time to take a bite before the door swung open, and sunghoon strolled in, his presence instantly filling the small room.
“skipping lunch again?” he asked, nodding at the protein bar in your hand.
you raised an eyebrow. “i could say the same. didn’t peg you for the protein-bar type.”
“oh, please.” he scoffed, moving to grab a coffee pod.
“i just had a massive breakfast. unlike some people, i actually know how to treat myself during the holidays.”
“congrats on the life of luxury,” you muttered, feeling your patience fray.
he chuckled, missing the edge in your voice—or, worse, choosing to ignore it. “well, it’s not for everyone.”
there was something almost infuriating in how casually he threw these little remarks around, as if it were a game.
you often wondered if he had any idea how privileged he sounded or if he was simply so wrapped up in his world that he couldn’t see beyond it.
you hated to admit it, but sometimes his comments stung. deeply.
“you know,” he continued, oblivious, “they’re setting up for the secret santa exchange in the main lobby. you could still join in if you want to spread some christmas cheer.”
you felt the words bubbling up before you could stop them. “not all of us can afford to ‘spread christmas cheer’ the way you do, sunghoon.”
a flicker of confusion crossed his face, and his casual demeanor faltered for a second.
you’d been careful not to reveal much about your personal life, but his relentless teasing had chipped away at your patience.
you could see him trying to piece together what you meant, his smirk fading as he observed you, perhaps noticing the hint of frustration in your expression.
but before he could press further, you gathered your things and left the break room, feeling his eyes on your back as you made your way down the hall.
the week had dragged on, filled with deadlines and holiday preparations you barely had the energy for.
by thursday evening, you’d almost forgotten about the refill you needed at the pharmacy.
but when the notification popped up on your phone—prescription ready for pickup—your stomach twisted.
the monthly pharmacy trip was always a grim reminder of the costs that piled up faster than you could manage.
you entered the pharmacy, still in your work clothes, feeling a familiar combination of dread and fatigue.
the fluorescent lights felt harsh after a long day, casting everything in an unflattering glare.
you waited in line, trying to keep your anxiety at bay, telling yourself that it would be okay.
when you reached the counter, the pharmacist handed over the medication with a sympathetic look.
“i’m sorry, y/n..” she said quietly, glancing down at her screen. “your insurance isn’t covering this anymore. the total comes to… $600.”
the number hit you like a punch. “six hundred?” you echoed, barely able to keep the shock from your voice.
“yes, unfortunately,” she said, her expression softening. “would you like to speak to someone in billing about options?”
you swallowed hard, feeling a rush of embarrassment.
behind you, a couple of people had joined the line, their eyes on you, and you could sense their impatience.
the pressure made it hard to think, and you fumbled for words, barely able to keep from breaking down. “i… i didn’t realize it would be that high.”
your hands trembled as you reached for your wallet, counting bills that would barely make a dent.
you felt the weight of judgment pressing down, and the frustration of the week boiled over into a feeling of helplessness.
in that moment, the walls you’d built so carefully began to crack—suddenly, a familiar voice broke through your thoughts.
“here, i’ve got it.”
you whipped around to see sunghoon, standing just behind you, his expression unreadable.
he held out his card to the cashier, his hand steady, his tone calm. the same calmness you often found infuriating—but now it felt like salt in a wound.
“no!” you blurted, voice louder than you intended. “sunghoon, i don’t need—”
he didn’t look at you, simply held his card out closer to the cashier, who accepted it with a nod.
the transaction beeped through, a small, simple sound that shattered any hope you had of holding onto your pride.
you took a shaky breath, trying to process what had just happened.
the thought of owing sunghoon money—let alone having him swoop in like some hero—made you feel nauseous.
sunghoon handed you the medication bag without a word, his expression unreadable, almost neutral.
but his silence only fueled the resentment bubbling inside you.
“thanks,” you muttered, barely meeting his gaze, gripping the bag tightly in your hands.
as soon as you stepped outside the pharmacy, the freezing winter air hit your face, jolting you back to reality.
sunghoon followed, catching up to you in a few strides.
his voice was calm but edged with something sharper, something you couldn’t quite place.
“you’re welcome, by the way,” he said, a hint of sarcasm coloring his tone.
you stopped abruptly, turning to face him, anger flaring up despite the chill that seeped into your bones.
“i didn’t ask you to help me, sunghoon. i really don’t need your charity.”
he scoffed, crossing his arms. “it’s not charity. i was just helping. or is that too difficult for you to accept?”
the words stung—you looked down, heart racing as you struggled to find the right response.
“you don’t get it. you don’t understand what it’s like to need help,” you said quietly, but there was a weight to your words that hung in the air between you.
sunghoon blinked, surprised by the intensity in your tone.
for a brief second, he seemed taken aback, as if realizing for the first time that there were layers to your life he’d never even thought to consider.
but just as quickly, he recovered, his expression hardening.
“maybe i don’t understand,” he said, voice low. “but i was only trying to be a good friend—you clearly needed my help.”
the word “friend” felt heavy, like it didn’t belong.
you’d spent so much time bickering with him, pushing each other’s buttons, that the idea of friendship felt foreign.
“we were never friends, sunghoon,” you replied, voice barely above a whisper. “not really.”
his face fell, just a fraction, but it was enough for you to see the disappointment in his eyes before he quickly masked it.
he didn’t respond, didn’t argue back. he just stood there, the silence between you filled with unspoken words and simmering emotions.
with a sigh, you turned and walked away, leaving him standing alone under the dim streetlights.
the next morning, you arrived at the office feeling drained, the argument replaying in your mind like a loop you couldn’t escape.
you’d spent the entire night wrestling with guilt, shame, and confusion.
as much as you hated to admit it, sunghoon had only been trying to help.
maybe his actions felt patronizing, but it wasn’t entirely his fault—you hadn’t exactly been forthcoming about your struggles, either.
you spotted him near the coffee station, and your heart thudded in your chest.
he looked up as you approached, his expression carefully blank, like he wasn’t sure what to expect.
“hey,” you began, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. “about last night… i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
he looked at you for a moment, studying your face, and you felt the tension ease slightly as a hint of a smile softened his expression.
“apology accepted,” he replied, a glimmer of his usual playfulness returning. “besides, if i can’t handle a little yelling, i shouldn’t be hanging around you, should i?”
you laughed, surprised by how much lighter you felt. “guess not.”
for the rest of the morning, there was a shift in the air between you and sunghoon.
it was subtle, but the tension had softened into something different, something… more understanding.
sunghoon seemed to go out of his way to avoid his usual teasing, and you found yourself appreciating the small moments of consideration—like when he quietly handed you a cup of coffee during a long meeting, or when he offered to take on part of a six page report without asking.
a few days later, the two of you were assigned to a client project that required an off-site visit to the city’s holiday market.
the market was bustling with vendors selling everything from handmade ornaments to spiced apple cider, and festive christmas music filled the air as fairy lights wrapped around pine trees twinkled in every direction.
you walked side by side through the crowds, the cold biting at your cheeks, but the festive atmosphere was infectious.
for once, sunghoon’s competitive edge had softened, replaced by a mutual sense of respect that felt unexpectedly natural.
he paused by a stall selling candied nuts, grinning as he handed you a small bag. “try these—they’re amazing.”
the warmth from the roasted nuts seeped into your hands, and you couldn’t help but smile as you tasted one. “not bad,” you admitted, savoring the sweetness.
he watched you with a soft, almost unreadable expression, his eyes warm in the glow of the holiday lights. “see? i knew i could get you into the christmas spirit.”
you rolled your eyes but felt your cheeks heat up, and for once, you couldn’t blame the cold.
“maybe christmas isn’t so bad,” you conceded, though your tone was playful.
you spent the afternoon walking through the market, sharing laughs and stories, with sunghoon’s usual arrogance replaced by a gentle charm that you weren’t familiar with.
there was something tender in the way he looked at you, as if he were seeing you for the first time, and you found yourself stealing glances when he wasn’t looking, wondering if maybe—maybe there was more to him than you’d realized.
the following weeks felt different—lighter, and even with the temperatures dropping even more—it felt unusually warmer.
where there had been tension, there was now an unspoken truce between you and sunghoon.
you’d catch his eye across the room and find a small, almost conspiratorial smile tugging at the corner of his lips, as if he, too, felt this strange new dynamic between you.
sunghoon’s teasing didn’t completely vanish, but it softened, became something that almost felt like an inside joke between the two of you.
and you found yourself… laughing. a lot. his wit was sharp, his timing impeccable, and his presence that you once found insufferable was now strangely comforting.
one snowy december morning, you arrived at your desk to find a small, neatly wrapped box sitting on top of your keyboard.
you looked around, half-expecting to see sunghoon lurking nearby, but he was nowhere in sight.
the gift wasn’t anything fancy—just a small pack of flavored coffee pods with a tiny note attached in his precise handwriting:
“for when the cafeteria coffee just isn’t enough. -s”
a smile spread across your face, and you felt an unexpected warmth bloom in your chest.
you didn’t know what surprised you more—that he’d noticed your disdain for the cafeteria’s bitter coffee, or that he’d gone out of his way to do something about it.
the gesture was small, almost insignificant, but it felt like a piece of kindness slipped through his carefully maintained armor.
later that day, when you saw him passing by, you couldn’t help but hold up the box and call out, “you know, bribery is illegal in this office.”
he raised an eyebrow, his lips spreading into a smirk.
“consider it a professional courtesy. can’t have you grumbling about the coffee all day and distracting everyone with your complaints.”
“oh, please,” you shot back, rolling your eyes—but you couldn’t help but laugh, feeling that warmth settle even deeper.
sunghoon was watching you, something soft and thoughtful in his gaze, and for a moment, the whole world seemed to shrink to just the two of you.
the holiday season meant long hours at the office, with tight deadlines and clients demanding year-end reports.
you and sunghoon found yourselves frequently the last ones to leave, working side by side in the glow of your computer screens as the office grew quiet around you.
one evening, you’d both stayed late, trying to wrap up a particularly demanding project.
your head was pounding, and you absentmindedly massaged your temples, eyes closed, when you heard the quiet thud of something being set down on your desk.
opening your eyes, you found sunghoon standing there, holding out a cup of tea.
“it’s not coffee,” he said, with a small, awkward smile. “but it’s supposed to help with headaches.”
surprised, you took the cup, feeling your fingers brush his briefly. “thank you,” you murmured, the warmth of the tea seeping through your fingers and into your skin.
you weren’t sure what to make of this new, considerate sunghoon—the same man who once enjoyed riling you up now seemed to be going out of his way to make you feel… cared for.
he didn’t leave, just watched you as you took a sip, his gaze holding a softness that made your heart flutter.
for a moment, you forgot the rivalry, forgot the teasing and the jabs.
all you saw was sunghoon, standing there with a quiet, almost hesitant expression, as if he, too, was trying to understand what was happening between you.
when he finally looked away, clearing his throat awkwardly, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment.
the silence hung heavy with words left unsaid, and as he walked back to his desk, you felt a strange longing settle in your chest—a longing that surprised and confused you in equal measure.
a week before christmas, the company sent you and sunghoon out to oversee a local holiday event as part of a charity initiative.
the city was sparkling with lights, carols, and people bundled in scarves and coats, laughing and chattering as they browsed the decorated stalls.
snow had started to fall, dusting the sidewalks in soft white powder.
“stick with me,” sunghoon said, giving you a wink as he led the way through the crowd. “we wouldn’t want you to get lost in the holiday rush.”
“oh, please,” you retorted, rolling your eyes—but you fell into step beside him, the easy banter warming you against the chilly air.
you wandered through the market together, occasionally stopping to admire handcrafted ornaments or taste samples of hot peppermint chocolate.
sunghoon even bought you a gingerbread cookie shaped like a snowman, holding it out with a shy grin.
“it’s not much,” he said, as if embarrassed by the simplicity of it.
“it’s perfect,” you replied, surprised by how genuine your own smile felt.
you took a bite, savoring the sweetness, while sunghoon watched you with an expression that made your heart flutter.
as you made your way through the crowd, you felt his hand brush against yours, a barely-there touch that sent a thrill down your spine.
you glanced up at him, half-expecting a smirk, but his expression was serious, his gaze focused on you in a way that made your heart race.
for a few beats, neither of you spoke, the sounds of the bustling market fading into the background.
sunghoon’s gaze held yours, intense and unwavering, and you felt a strange, almost magnetic pull between you.
you didn’t realize how close you were standing until someone bumped into you from behind, breaking the moment.
sunghoon quickly reached out to steady you, his hand firm and reassuring on your arm.
“are you okay?” he asked, his voice a whisper, his eyes searching yours.
you nodded, suddenly hyper-aware of his hand on your arm. “yeah, i’m fine. thanks.”
he didn’t let go right away, and you found yourself leaning into his touch, just for a second, savoring the warmth and closeness.
when he finally released you, his fingers lingered just a moment too long, leaving a tingling warmth in their wake.
as the evening wound down, you found yourselves standing at the edge of the market, watching the snow fall softly around you.
the streetlights casted a dim, yellow warm glow over the scene, and you could see your breath mingling with his in the chilly air.
sunghoon shifted beside you, his expression unreadable. “you know, i never thought we’d actually get along,” he admitted, his tone quiet, almost hesitant.
“me neither,” you replied, feeling a strange, bittersweet ache in your chest. “guess it took the holidays to bring out the best in us.”
he chuckled softly, but there was something melancholy in his smile. “maybe. or maybe it just took us actually… seeing each other.”
the words hung heavy in the air, their meaning lingering between you.
for the first time, you realized that he hadn’t just been teasing you all those months—maybe he’d been reaching out, trying to connect in the only way he knew how.
and maybe… maybe you’d been doing the same.
the snow continued to fall, soft and silent, as you stood together in a moment that felt suspended in time.
the following monday, you walked into the office to find an unusual hyper buzz in the air.
coworkers were whispering, exchanging knowing looks, and as you made your way to your desk, you could feel their curious glances following you.
“what’s going on?” you finally asked one of your coworkers, trying to ignore the strange, uneasy feeling building in your stomach.
your coworker glanced at you, clearly excited to spill the news. “oh, didn’t you hear? sunghoon’s engaged! his family announced it over the weekend. isn’t that amazing?”
the words hit you like a slap—for a moment, you could only stare, the world tilting around you as the reality sank in.
engaged. park sunghoon was… engaged?
somehow, you managed to keep your composure, nodding along and murmuring something that sounded like congratulations.
but inside, you felt like your heart had been stepped on and crushed into a thousand pieces.
you hadn’t even realized how much he’d come to mean to you until that moment, until the possibility of him slipping out of your life loomed in front of you.
the warmth, the stolen glances, the lingering touches—they all felt like illusions now, shattered by the cold reality of his engagement.
and as the days passed, you found yourself pulling away, avoiding him, unable to face the ache that had settled in your chest.
you convinced yourself it was for the best, that distancing yourself would make it easier.
but each time you caught a glimpse of him—sitting at his desk, laughing with a coworker, or glancing your way with a confused expression—the pain flared, sharp and unyielding.
the annual company christmas party was an elaborate affair held at a high-end hotel ballroom, decked out with garlands, chandeliers wrapped in fairy lights, and a massive christmas tree in the center of the room.
you arrived alone, shivering as the chilly air picked at your bare arms—nerves prickling as you took in the festive crowd of coworkers mingling, laughing, and toasting to the holiday season.
you’d done your best to dress up, but an unmistakable heaviness clung to you—the weight of sunghoon’s engagement lingered, even after avoiding him—you couldn’t escape the haunting of park sunghoon.
you hadn’t spoken to him in days, going out of your way to avoid his attempts to talk.
he’d noticed, of course. the confused glances, the way his brow furrowed when he caught sight of you hurrying out of a room—those small, unspoken moments were like daggers, deepening the ache in your chest.
it hurt more than you’d thought possible, this distance, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to face him.
tonight, the ballroom was filled with the sounds of holiday classics, the gentle clinking of glasses, and the murmur of cheerful conversations.
you pushed your way through the crowd, greeting coworkers and accepting the occasional compliment, but your mind kept wandering, searching for him against your better judgment.
when you finally saw him, standing near the christmas tree in a tailored dark suit, your heart twisted painfully.
he looked… incredible, polished and confident as always, but there was something else in his eyes—a tension, a restlessness that you couldn’t place.
he was surrounded by a small group of colleagues, but he seemed distracted, his gaze scanning the room as if looking for someone.
you turned quickly, hoping he hadn’t noticed you, and tried to lose yourself in the crowd.
but even as you made small talk with your coworkers, your attention kept drifting back to him, your heart stubbornly refusing to let go.
at some point in the evening, the lights dimmed, and the band began playing a slow, romantic melody.
a coworker you barely knew approached you, a friendly smile on his face as he offered his hand. “care for a dance?”
the last thing you wanted was to be dragged onto the dance floor, but the thought of standing alone, surrounded by the sight of happy couples, felt worse.
you accepted, letting him guide you to the center of the room.
the music was soft and gentle, filling the room like a quiet whisper—your dance partner was polite, talking amiably as you swayed to the music, but you barely heard a word he said.
your gaze drifted, unbidden, toward sunghoon. he was watching you, his expression hidden in shadow, but you could see the pain in his eyes—a pain that mirrored your own.
for a moment, everything else faded away.
the ballroom, the music, the dozens of people around you—all of it blurred into the background as you met his gaze.
it was a single, suspended moment, one that hung heavy with all the things left unsaid, all the secrets you’d kept bottled up.
sunghoon’s expression was raw, his eyes shining with an intensity that left you breathless.
he looked… devastated, as if the sight of you dancing with someone else was tearing him apart.
a flicker of hope sparked in your heart, but you quickly quashed it, reminding yourself that he was engaged.
and yet… the look in his eyes felt so real, so heartbreakingly genuine, that you almost believed he cared as deeply as you did.
when the song ended, you quickly excused yourself from your dance partner, feeling suddenly overwhelmed.
you retreated to the side of the room, fighting to steady your breath as you chugged a glass of champagne, all while trying to make sense of the emotions swirling inside you.
moments later, the ceo stepped up to the front of the room, tapping the microphone and quieting the crowd.
he began his speech, thanking everyone for their hard work and loyalty over the past year, his words filled with the usual corporate platitudes.
you listened half-heartedly, your mind elsewhere, still reeling from the intensity of sunghoon’s gaze.
as the ceo’s speech drew to a close, he turned to sunghoon with a broad smile.
“and of course, we can’t end this night without congratulating our very own park sunghoon on his recent engagement!”
a round of applause erupted, and all eyes turned to sunghoon—he stood there, looking cornered, his face a mix of frustration and anguish as he glanced out at the crowd, clearly uncomfortable with the attention.
his gaze flicked to you for just a moment, but it was enough for you to see the raw emotion in his eyes—the pain, the longing, and something deeper, something desperate.
the applause began to fade, and an uncomfortable silence settled over the room as everyone waited for him to respond.
you held your breath, watching as he took a deep, steadying breath and then lifted his head, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before finally resting on you.
“i… i have something to say,” he began, his voice trembling just slightly, though he tried to mask it with a steady, confident tone. “my parents may have announced an engagement, but i… i can’t go through with it.”
a collective gasp rippled through the crowd, murmurs breaking out as people exchanged shocked glances.
sunghoon held his ground, his eyes never leaving yours, and you felt your heart pounding wildly, your entire body frozen as his words sank in.
“i can’t go through with it,” he continued, his voice stronger now, filled with a conviction that made your chest ache. “because… because i’m in love with someone else.”
his words echoed in the silence, hanging in the air like a confession to the whole world—the room was utterly still, every eye fixed on him, but he seemed oblivious to them all, focused solely on you.
your breath caught, and you felt a wave of shock and disbelief wash over you, mingled with a wild, desperate hope.
sunghoon took a step closer towards you, his eyes filled with an intensity that left you breathless.
“i’m in love with you, y/n. i’ve been so in love with you—for longer than i want to admit.”
the entire room was staring now, but all you could see was him.
your heart raced, your mind whirling as you struggled to process what he’d just said—part of you wanted to run, to escape the weight of all those eyes on you, but another part, a larger part, wanted nothing more than to close the distance between you and let yourself fall into his arms.
but it was all too much—the crowd, the confession, the overwhelming emotions crashing over you like a tidal wave.
without another word, you turned and fled, pushing your way through the stunned crowd, your heart pounding as you made your way outside.
the cold air hit you like a slap, shocking your senses and grounding you just enough to keep you from collapsing under the weight of it all.
you were barely halfway down the steps when you heard footsteps behind you.
“y/n! wait!”
you turned to see sunghoon jogging after you, his face pale, eyes wide with worry.
he reached for you, but you took a step back, shaking your head, barely able to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over.
“why did you do that, sunghoon?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “why did you have to say all that in front of everyone?”
he looked at you, desperation etched into every line of his face. “because i couldn’t keep it inside anymore,” he said, his voice raw, broken. “i couldn’t pretend. not when… not when all i want is you.”
you shook your head, struggling to keep your composure. “you don’t understand. you can’t just… say things like that, sunghoon. you’re engaged—your family…”
“i don’t care about any of that!” he interrupted, his voice rising. “i don’t care about the engagement, the expectations, any of it. none of it matters if i can’t be with you.”
his words hung heavy in the air, and you felt your defenses crumbling, piece by piece.
but the fear, the uncertainty, was still there, clawing at you, refusing to let you give in.
“i don’t need your pity,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “i don’t want you to feel sorry for me.”
he looked at you, hurt flashing in his eyes. “this isn’t pity, y/n. i’m not trying to save you. i just… i just want to be with you.”
for a moment, you stood there, the silence between you filled with all the things left unsaid.
and then, before he could say anything more, you turned and walked away, the tears finally spilling over as you slipped into the cab and closed the door, leaving him standing there alone in the falling snow.
the next morning, you woke with a heavy heart, the memory of last night replaying in your mind.
you felt raw, vulnerable, and yet, there was a faint glimmer of hope buried beneath the ache—a hope that maybe, this was real.
your thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at your door.
you rose, heart pounding, and opened it to find sunghoon standing there, holding a bouquet of flowers, his eyes red-rimmed as if he hadn’t slept.
you’d expected sunghoon to be at the door, waiting with an apology or a question—but you hadn’t expected him to look so vulnerable.
his usual confidence was gone, replaced by a rawness that mirrored everything you’d felt since the night before.
the bouquet he held was a mix of wildflowers and holiday greenery—red berries and sprigs of pine woven among soft white flowers that stood out against the darkness of the early morning.
when you finally took the bouquet from his hands, your fingers brushed his, sending a jolt of warmth through you.
the simple touch said everything words hadn’t—the apology, the relief, and maybe most of all, the overwhelming sense of rightness that you couldn’t ignore any longer.
the silence stretched, each of you looking at the other, feeling the weight of all that had come before and the fragile hope for what might come next.
he looked at you, eyes searching your face with a hesitance that felt new, uncertain.
“y/n…” he began, his voice soft, each syllable filled with a vulnerability you’d never heard before.
“i know last night was… overwhelming. and i’m sorry if i put you on the spot, but i meant every single word.”
you felt your heart flutter, the sincerity in his gaze unshakable—he looked at you as if you were something precious, something he’d been waiting his whole life to hold close.
and that look, filled with quiet awe and devotion, undid every defense you’d carefully built over the years.
“i was afraid to believe it,” you whispered, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “i was so afraid that this would all be some fleeting thing for you. that i’d just be another distraction.”
his brows knit together in disbelief, and he reached up, gently brushing a stray tear from your cheek.
“a distraction?” he murmured, a trace of pain in his voice. “y/n, you’re the only person i’ve ever been able to be… real with. you see me—beyond my name, beyond the expectations. i didn’t know how much i needed that until i met you.”
for a moment, you just looked at him, feeling the weight of his words settle over you like a warm blanket.
every snide comment, every misunderstanding, every late night spent working together—each memory replayed in your mind, and suddenly, it all made sense.
what you’d shared wasn’t just rivalry or convenience; it had been the start of something deeper, something real.
“i’ve wanted to hear that for so long,” you said, a soft laugh escaping you. “i just… i couldn’t admit it, not even to myself.”
a slow, relieved smile spread across his face, and he took a step closer, pulling you into a gentle hug. his arms wrapped around you, holding you close in a way that felt so natural, as if you’d been made to fit there.
he smelled faintly of cedar and pine, a comforting, earthy scent that made you feel warm and safe.
you could feel his heartbeat against yours, steady and strong, grounding you as everything else melted away.
“then stay with me,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. “stay with me, y/n. i’ll prove to you that this is real. that i’m all in.”
you pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, searching for any hint of uncertainty.
but all you saw was unwavering devotion, a promise he seemed ready to carry for as long as you needed.
“i love you, sunghoon,” you said, feeling the words roll off your tongue, soft and unrestrained, like a sigh of relief after holding your breath for too long.
“i think… i’ve loved you for a long time. even when i couldn’t admit it, even when you drove me crazy.”
a soft laugh escaped him, and he looked at you with an expression filled with wonder, as if he, too, had been waiting his whole life to hear those words.
“i never thought i’d hear you say that,” he whispered, his voice thick with admiration and softness.
“neither did i,” you admitted, your smile mirroring his.
he leaned down, cupping your face with gentle hands as he closed the small distance between you.
his lips met yours in a kiss that was soft, warm, and filled with the quiet certainty that this was where you were meant to be.
the world around you faded, leaving only the warmth of his embrace and the lingering taste of his kiss.
the weeks that followed felt like a dream.
for the first time, you let yourself enjoy the simplicity of being with him, unburdened by the anxieties that had once kept you apart.
sunghoon’s presence became a comfort, a steady warmth that you found yourself relying on more and more.
with christmas only a few days away, he insisted on taking you to a secluded cabin his family owned, nestled in a quiet of a forest just outside the city.
when you arrived, snow covered the ground in a perfect blanket, undisturbed and glistening under the faint light of a winter sunset.
the cabin was charmingly rustic, decorated with fairy lights and pine wreaths, and a cozy fire crackled in the stone fireplace, filling the room with a comforting warmth.
sunghoon stood behind you as you both took in the view, his arms wrapping around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder.
“welcome to our first tradition,” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with warmth.
“our first tradition?” you echoed, a smile playing on your lips.
he nodded, pulling you closer. “i want to spend every christmas with you. just like this—peaceful, just us. no crowds, no expectations. just you, me, and… maybe a cup of hot chocolate.”
you laughed, turning in his arms to face him. “i could get used to that.”
he smiled, reaching up to brush a snowflake from your hair—the gesture was so tender, so filled with quiet adoration, that your heart swelled with love for him all over again.
“let’s go inside,” he said, taking your hand. “there’s something i want to show you.”
you followed him into the cabin, where he led you to a small table by the window.
on it was a simple, carefully wrapped box with a red ribbon tied around it—he handed it to you, his eyes warm and expectant.
you opened the box to find a small, delicate charm bracelet with a single charm—a tiny snowflake, etched in silver.
it sparkled under the dim light, catching the glow from the fire.
“it’s beautiful, hoon..” you whispered, touched by the thoughtfulness of the gift.
he reached out, clasping it around your wrist with a soft smile. “i wanted something that would remind you of this moment. of us.”
your throat tightened, and you looked up at him, feeling an overwhelming wave of gratitude and love.
he’d given you so much more than a gift—he’d given you a promise, a quiet assurance that he was in this for the long haul.
“thank you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
he smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “merry christmas, y/n.”
as you stood there together, wrapped in each other’s arms, the snow began to fall outside, blanketing the world in a peaceful, serene quiet.
the warmth of the cabin, the gentle crackling of the fire, and the soft glow of fairy lights filled the space, making it feel like you were in your own little world.
and in that moment, you realized that everything you’d gone through—every argument, every misunderstanding, every long, quiet night spent wondering what could have been—had all been worth it.
because it had led you here, to this moment, to him.
the rest of the night was spent in quiet conversation, sharing dreams and hopes for the future as you watched the snow fall outside.
you talked about everything and nothing, feeling the joy of being together without any walls between you.
the future was a blank canvas, filled with endless possibilities, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to picture it—each memory, each holiday, painted with sunghoon by your side.
as the night drew to a close, you found yourself drifting off to sleep in his arms, the fire casting soft shadows across the room, wrapping you both in warmth.
sunghoon’s heartbeat was a steady lullaby, soothing and constant, and you let yourself sink into the comfort of it, knowing that this was only the beginning.
and as you closed your eyes, a single thought lingered, filling you with a quiet, profound happiness—
you were finally home.
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sushiyuzu · 1 month ago
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干爹
- second acc: @blushpawss
sugardaddy!sylus takes you to a high-end boutique in the city. the staff greet him by name, treating him like a regular customer. he insists that you pick out whatever you like, and when you hesitate, he gently nudges you forward with a reassuring smile. you try on several outfits, and each time you come out of the fitting room, his eyes light up. he makes you feel like you’re the most beautiful person in the world. after you choose something, he pays without a second thought, holding your hand as you leave the store with shopping bags in tow.
sugardaddy!sylus surprises you with a reservation at one of the city’s most exclusive restaurants. the atmosphere is elegant, with soft lighting and expensive decor. he pulls out your chair before you can sit, treating you with such care. the menu has no prices listed, but he doesn’t even glance at it before ordering the best dishes for both of you. throughout dinner, he listens attentively, smiling at your stories while reaching across the table to hold your hand. the night feels magical, and you realize just how much he enjoys spoiling you.
sugardaddy!sylus invites you to spend the weekend at his private villa by the beach. the house is enormous, with high ceilings, a pool overlooking the ocean, and every room decorated with style and comfort in mind. you explore the villa together, and he leads you to the balcony where there’s a perfect view of the sunset. you sit together, wrapped in a warm blanket as the breeze brushes by, and he tells you about his favorite memories of the place, promising that he’ll make many more with you here.
sugardaddy!sylus surprises you with a beautifully wrapped box. inside is a piece of jewelry—something elegant and understated, yet incredibly precious. he explains that it’s not just expensive, but it has a deep meaning to him, maybe something that belonged to a rare item he found on his travels. he gently fastens the necklace or bracelet around your wrist, his fingers brushing against your skin. you can see the emotion in his eyes, and you know it’s not just about the money; it’s about what you mean to him.
sugardaddy!sylus wakes you up early one morning with a mischievous smile and tells you to pack a bag, hinting at a surprise. before you know it, you’re on his private jet, sipping a glass of juice while the plane soars above the clouds. he doesn’t reveal the destination until you’re almost there, teasing you the whole way. when you land, it’s a beautiful, remote island or a charming city you’ve always wanted to visit. he’s planned everything down to the smallest detail, and you can’t help but feel amazed by his thoughtfulness.
sugardaddy!sylus invites you to be his date at a high-society gala, where everyone is dressed in their finest. he sends a designer to your home with several elegant gowns, letting you choose the one you like the most. the night of the event, he picks you up in a sleek car, looking handsome in his tailored suit. as you arrive, all eyes are on you both, and he keeps you close, introducing you to important people. despite the grand setting, he makes sure you’re comfortable, always keeping you by his side, his arm around your waist.
sugardaddy!sylus arranges a private evening on his yacht, the boat anchored just off the coast. the deck is set up with soft cushions, fairy lights, and a candlelit dinner waiting for you. he steers the yacht himself, guiding it through calm waters under a sky full of stars. after dinner, he turns on soft music, and you dance together under the night sky, the gentle rocking of the boat adding to the moment. he pulls you close, his voice soft and gentle as he tells you how much he treasures nights like this with you.
sugardaddy!sylus wakes up in a soft, oversized bed in a beautiful hotel suite. the sunlight streams in through sheer curtains, and sylus is there, already awake, bringing you a tray of breakfast with fresh fruit, pastries, and your favorite drink. he’s wearing a robe, his hair slightly messy, looking relaxed and happy. you both enjoy breakfast in bed, laughing and talking without a care in the world. it’s a morning filled with gentle touches and quiet moments, the kind that you wish could last forever.
sugardaddy!sylus decides to treat you to a day at a high-end spa. the atmosphere is calm, with soft music and gentle scents in the air. you both enjoy a couple’s massage, side by side, feeling the stress melt away under the hands of expert masseuses. after that, there’s a private hot tub just for the two of you, with rose petals scattered on the surface. you lean back against him, the warm water soothing your body, and he whispers how happy he is to see you so relaxed.
sugardaddy!sylus takes you to a private cabin in the mountains for a winter getaway. the cabin is luxurious yet cozy, with a roaring fireplace and a view of snow-covered trees. one evening, a snowstorm hits, and you’re both stuck inside. sylus wraps you in a thick blanket, sitting by the fireplace with hot cocoa. you play a board game, talk, and watch the snow fall, feeling like the rest of the world is miles away.
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shadowdaddies · 8 months ago
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Distraction
Azriel x Reader
A/N: I keep thinking about how this scene from Captain America: the Winter Soldier would fit so well for Azriel x reader on a spy mission
warnings: none
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A knock on your door shook you from your daze, wide eyes alert in a prepared defense until you heard the familiar voice rumble lowly through the wooden doorway.
“Are you ready?” Azriel questioned, rough voice sending an unrecognizable thrill through you as you strode towards the door. Turning the handle, you looked up to see hazel eyes darkening as the striking Illyrian swallowed, gaze raking over your form in the fitted dress you’d donned for the evening.
“Ready, Az,” you nodded, allowing yourself the guilty pleasure of admiring your friend’s appearance. He was dressed in a fitted all-black ensemble, tailored to show his impressive physique and highlight his features. He looked like a Prince of Darkness as he stepped to the side, holding out an arm for you to take.
“You look very nice, Azriel,” you smiled, playfully nudging him with your shoulder as he led you down the hall to the grand ballroom. 
He stiffened slightly at your words, as though shocked by the compliment, before he turned to face you. “You look...” he paused, taking a deep breath when he stepped back to look at you. Something sparked in your chest when he spoke again. “You look beautiful.”
Nodding, you looked away in an attempt to hide your blush as well as Azriel had hidden his shadows for the evening. You were both undercover from the Night Court, attending this ball in Hybern to find information on potential traitors. 
Since the war was won, Prythian had absorbed the kingdom of Hybern, but many were still resistant to the ideals of the Continent. You were sent with Azriel to the new ruler of Hybern’s birthday celebration to gather intel, searching for those who might pose a threat to the High Lord and Lady’s restructured kingdom. 
With Azriel’s shadows, he would be quickly identified as the infamous shadowsinger of the Night Court, but with his shadows hidden and you by his side, you could blend in with the other fae relatively easily. 
Which is why you now carried your shimmering skirts, shoes clicking down the marble floored halls with Azriel on your arm. You had expected to be more nervous going into the event, but something about Azriel’s touch kept you grounded, feeling calmer than ever. 
Approaching the double doors that led to the grand ballroom, you nodded your appreciation to the guards who opened the doors for you both. Words escaped you at the beauty of the room before you, murals of fairies from old lining the walls along with gilded chandeliers and twinkling faelight. It was beautiful and romantic, a far cry from what you had imagined Hybern to be.
Feeling a tug on your arm, you looked up to see Azriel flashing you a knowing grin as he guided you towards a servant. Picking up two drinks from their tray, he murmured appreciation to them before handing you a glass. You half-expected him to say something about the beauty of the evening, but surprise didn’t find you with his words.
“Remember our story. Keep it vague and learn what you can tonight,” Azriel murmured, his warm hand rubbing affectionately on your waist at odds with his words. You nodded, remembering your role new mates as your role for the night, and that his touch meant nothing more.
Twining your fingers with his, you led Azriel to a couple who stood by the hearth, smiling as they both listened to the band play its lively tune. You chatted with them, learning the gossip about several royal families who did not approve of the new structure in Hybern. 
“Well done,” Azriel murmured, his lips warm against your knuckles as he pulled them, twirling you in a playful move across the dance floor closer to the next target for intel. 
You wished the giggle that escaped you was more effort than it was, but something about you was truly drawn to Azriel. He was gentle with you, but fiercely defensive of those he cared for. A skilled warrior and good friend. 
Swallowing, you willed your emotions beneath the surface to plaster on your face of grace. Swiping another glass of faerie wine, you focused on the faux feelings you’d manufactured for the evening, ignoring those you really felt towards Azriel as best you could.
You were deep in conversation, laughing and joking with the female visiting from Vallahan when Azriel’s fingers tensed around your waist. Feigning ignorance, you smiled lazily at your “mate.” 
“Is everything alright, my love?” You asked - the question you’d planned beforehand if anything unplanned were to arise. 
Azriel’s gaze flicked to you, more wild than you had ever seen his bright hazel eyes. “I am just aching for a dance with my mate, is all,” he purred, teasing voice betraying the shaking fingertips that hovered your hips.
With audible “awws” and cooing at two new mates who couldn’t resist to be apart, the other fae ushered you towards the busy dance floor, where Azriel took your hand and waist, back held in surprisingly impressive form.
“I know the male in the opposite corner from where I face,” Azriel whispered in your ear, soft as if he were telling you sweet nothings. You ignored the hitch in your breath, gaze flicking briefly to a tall, burly male in the corner whose own eyes flicked to Azriel with curiosity.
“Come with me,” you whispered back, not missing how Azriel shivered at your lips on his ear. He followed you, hands loosely intertwined while you wove through the crowd towards the dark corner of the room opposite from the suspecting male.
Your heart hammered in your chest as the male moved through the ballroom, gaze scanning the crowd including yourselves as though he were looking for someone. 
“Kiss me,” you whispered, pulling Azriel’s body tight against your own, which was pressed to the cold wall. 
“W-what?” he choked out, and you had to bite back your grin at the uncharacteristically flustered spymaster. 
“Public displays of affection make people uncomfortable. Kiss me,” you demanded, willing yourself not to look to the presence you could sense nearing you.
Azriel’s eyes practically glowed as he searched your face, searching for affirmation before one hand found your waist, the other wrapping around the back of your neck as he pulled you in for a deep kiss.
An electric energy shot through you, the spark hitting your chest hard enough to steal your breath at the feeling of his soft lips on your own. You melted into the kiss with ease, both of your bodies interlacing like two halves of a whole. 
You were dizzy for air, completely forgetting everyone else around you when Azriel pulled away, his eyes wide with something that looked like shock. 
Pushing back, you scanned the area for potential threats before deciding you couldn’t find anything. “Azriel, what happened? Are you okay?” You whispered, thumb stroking his cheek to keep up the charade of new mates.
“I- you’re my...” Azriel stuttered, just as you caught sight of the suspicious male slipping out onto the balcony. 
“Come on, Az. Let’s see what they’re up to,” you whispered, keeping a note in your mind to ask him what he was distracted by at a later time.
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obsidian-pages777 · 6 months ago
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Pick a card: Your Future Aesthetic.Pick an Image
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Left to Right Top Row-> Pile 1, Pile 2. Left Bottom Row -> Pile 3 [Pick one of the three]
Reading 1: The Ethereal Dreamer
Card Drawn: The Star
Your future self will be deeply enchanted by an ethereal, dreamy aesthetic. Imagine a world filled with soft, flowing fabrics in pastel hues like lavender, blush pink, and sky blue. Your spaces will be adorned with fairy lights, delicate crystals, and celestial motifs such as stars and moons. This aesthetic is all about creating a serene, magical atmosphere that feels almost otherworldly.
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Your fashion choices will lean towards flowing, bohemian dresses, sheer materials, and intricate lace details.Mostly pastel themes. Being attracted to light colors.Butterfly motifs are prominent. You might carry a free flowing nature to your personality representing your aspirations towards expansion of peace.
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Home decor will feature airy, light-filled spaces with plenty of natural elements like feathers, geodes, and plants.
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Your future self will seek to create a sanctuary that feels like a serene escape from reality, full of whimsical fairie-esque and gentle beauty.
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Reading 2: The Bold Visionary
Card Drawn: The Emperor
Your future self will gravitate towards a bold, visionary aesthetic that exudes confidence and sophistication. This look is defined by strong lines, rich colors like deep navy, burgundy, and emerald, and luxurious materials such as velvet, leather, and silk.
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Your fashion will include tailored suits, statement pieces with geometric patterns, and accessories that make a statement.
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Home decor will feature modern furniture with clean lines, metallic accents, and striking art pieces. Your spaces will be meticulously organized and designed to project power and elegance.
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The aesthetic you will love is one that commands attention and reflects a sense of authority and ambition, perfectly suited for a leader who is unafraid to stand out and make bold moves.
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Reading 3: The Vintage Romantic
Card Drawn: The Lovers
Your future self will find joy in a vintage, romantic aesthetic that celebrates nostalgia and timeless beauty.
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Picture a world filled with delicate floral patterns, antique furniture, and soft, muted tones like rose, cream, and sage green. Your fashion will be inspired by eras past, with a love for lace, vintage dresses, pearl accessories, and retro hairstyles.
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Home decor will feature shabby chic elements, ornate picture frames, and cozy, intimate settings with lots of personal touches like family heirlooms and handmade crafts.
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This aesthetic is all about creating a warm, inviting atmosphere that feels both elegant and charmingly old-fashioned. Your future self will delight in the romance and history embedded in this timeless style.
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p0orbaby · 8 days ago
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@randombush3 violated my inbox to request this so you have her to thank
old!money, boarding school reunion, and some other bits im too common to explain !
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The reunion gala is being held in the dining hall, which is now unrecognisable, strung with white fairy lights and overrun by women who look like they’ve stepped out of a Tatler feature on “The New Guard.” You and Leah arrive late, her fingers laced loosely with yours, her face caught in a look of quiet amusement she’s been wearing ever since you explained what the event actually was. The type of function where everyone’s name rhymes—Tillie, Millie, Mintie, Lottie—and they all wear headbands, pearls, and just enough Loewe to feign not trying.
“Are you sure I’m dressed for this?” Leah mutters as you step into the room. She’s in a black blazer, simple but sharply tailored, and trousers that cling to her frame in a way that has made you a little distracted all evening.
“You’re perfect,” you say, squeezing her hand. “Besides, half of them are just here to drink champagne and complain about the wallpaper”
The first person to approach you is Tillie Worthington, née Price, whose voice hasn’t changed since you last heard it at seventeen: clipped, nasal, and deeply amused by everything. She air-kisses you, one cheek then the other, leaving a faint trace of Jo Malone behind, and sizes Leah up with the kind of interest usually reserved for auction lots.
“This must be your footballer,” Tillie says brightly, as if she’s been handed a guest list and not just guessed from Leah’s posture, which screams athlete. “Leah, isn’t it? How marvellous. I’m Tillie, darling. Went to school with your girl. She was an absolute terror in Upper Fourth”
Leah shoots you a look, equal parts entertained and confused. “Upper Fourth?”
“Year Nine,” you mutter.
“She had all the girls swooning,” Tillie continues, ignoring you, her attention fully on Leah now. “They’d leave her chocolates in the locker room. Did she tell you that? Or is she still pretending to be shy?” She winks.
Leah grins, leaning into the banter. “She’s not shy”
Your cheeks are already burning when Mintie Sotherby appears, dragging her husband—a man who looks like he was born holding a yacht steering wheel—behind her. Mintie is as you remember: glossy and terrifying, with the kind of presence that made underclassmen weep in corridors. She zeroes in on Leah like a heat-seeking missile.
“You’re the Arsenal one, right?” she says, tilting her head. “You’re on my husband’s fantasy football team.” She pauses, turning to the man at her elbow. “Aren’t you, darling?”
“Er—yes,” he says, with the enthusiasm of someone who doesn’t know his own players. “Very good value for money”
You’re about to step in when Lottie—of course it’s Lottie—arrives, carrying two glasses of champagne and a third that she thrusts at Leah. “Here,” she says conspiratorially, her vowels clipped like a BBC anchor. “You’ll need this if you’re meeting everyone. They’re all positively feral tonight”
Leah raises the glass, her grin widening. “I’m starting to see that”
The night is a whirlwind of introductions, champagne, and remarks that range from condescending to bizarre. Leah handles it all with a grace you’re sure she didn’t think she had, charming your comrades like she’s been doing it for years. But the moment you’ve been dreading comes as you’re cornered by Pippa Hardwicke, your former dorm mate and now a full-time collector of scandal.
“Oh, and let’s not forget the time she got caught sneaking into the boys’ school across the lake,” Pippa announces, her voice carrying over the din of conversation. “Right through the headmaster’s garden. She had to scale a wall in a dress she’d nicked from the laundry room—can you imagine?”
Leah turns to you, eyebrows raised, the faintest smirk tugging at her lips. “Is this true?”
You’re halfway through an attempt at deflection when Pippa adds, “And she left her shoes behind. Do you know how hard it is to explain a pair of muddy Louboutins in the middle of a rose bush?”
Leah bursts into laughter, shaking her head. “Oh, I’m going to need to hear all of this later,” she says, her tone low, conspiratorial.
You groan, pulling her away as Pippa prepares to recount the time you tried to rig the voting for Head Girl. “We’re leaving. Right now”
“Leaving?” Leah says, grinning as she falls into step beside you. “Baby, I’m just getting started. I’ve got so many questions. Like, how many times were you caught sneaking around? And did you really steal the dress?”
“You’re supposed to be on my side,” you mutter, though the warmth in her voice is impossible to resist.
“I am,” she says, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “But I also love picturing you in the middle of a garden, barefoot, running from security. It explains so much”
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Someone Borrowed, Someone Blue.
an engagement party, your childhood best friend, one too many glasses of champagne. what could go wrong?
pairing - childhood bestfriend!steve harrington x female reader
warnings - smut. cursing. cheating. alcohol mention. so much angst… i’d apologise but i’m not sorry.
word count - 3.7k
author’s note - get it? like, something borrowed, something blue… because it’s a wedding… I was half asleep when that popped into my head and I thought it was perfect, personally. I don’t condone cheating irl, but also… it’s your life, do what you want ;)
as always, reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics!! so, if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging. thanks, angels <3
masterlist. inbox.
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The moonlight shines down, glinting off the diamond ring settled on your left hand.
Everyone's dancing, singing, laughing, enjoying each other's company in a rare moment of complete happiness. People keep grabbing you, hugging you, reaching for you to offer their congratulations.
Isn't it just so wonderful? Two people completely in love. Ah, to be young again.
The fairy lights twinkle where they're hung across the garden, acres of grass just begging to be decorated. You'd initially protested this venue - a huge country house in the middle of nowhere, with countless rooms and a huge courtyard.
It's just our engagement party, not our wedding. We don't have to be so extravagant.
This isn't extravagant - not for my family, anyway. Just say yes. I'll plan the entire thing, you don't have to worry.
And so you did. Say yes. To his proposal, the venue, anything he suggests. You can't find it in you to say no, to argue, to fight for what you really want. It isn't worth it.
"There you are, my soon to be wife!"
You take a deep breath, pretending the sound of his voice doesn't make you feel sick.
"My soon to be husband."
He can't see the grimace on your face, even though it's there, loud and clear. He can't read you, has never been able to.
"A car has just pulled up. You expecting anyone else?"
You are, but you won't let yourself get your hopes up. So you lie.
"Don't think so."
"Okay, well... you'll save me a dance, won't you? My mom wants to take some pictures."
You nod reluctantly, patting his arm with as much affection as you can muster.
"I think your brother is calling you."
You direct his attention to where his frat boy siblings are, hollering and yelling for him to come over.
"My guys!"
He departs as quickly as he came, leaving a wave of too strong cologne in his wake.
You take a walk from the garden to the front of the house, curiosity peaked. You scan the parking lot, and your heart stops when you spot the car in the corner.
A burgundy 1983 BMW 733i.
He's here.
You spin on your heel, searching almost frantically, when you hear someone clear their throat. You turn around, and there he is.
Leaning against a pillar, stood in a dress shirt and tailored trousers, hair perfectly styled.
Steve Harrington.
You're half convinced you're dreaming. The world moves around you in a daze, crickets chirping and wind blowing gently. You lock eyes with him, and can't fight the grin that spreads across your face.
“Don’t fret, baby. The life of the party has arrived.”
You scoff but almost run towards him, tripping over in your heels. He meets you halfway, arms snaking around your waist to keep you steady as you wrap yourself around him.
He smells the same. Cologne, spearmint, a faint note of diesel from the car. He smells like home.
Past home, you remind yourself. Not anymore. You have a new home now, with a soon to be husband that doesn’t understand you and a soon to be family that is built on morally questionable money and fake niceties. Steve’s a person of your past, a distant memory, a fading dream.
Except he’s stood right in front of you.
He's staring at you with a look in his eyes you can’t quite place. You’ve never seen it before.
"I didn't think you'd come," you whisper, begging yourself to pull away from his embrace. He doesn't let you go far, keeping his arms around your back as if he's worried you'll bolt at any given moment.
"And miss my best friends engagement party? Never."
"Best friends. We're not five anymore, Steve."
You roll your eyes, punching his arm lightly.
"What, I can't call you my best friend anymore?"
He picks you up, spinning you across the gravel of the parking lot. You're dizzy with it, the world passing by you in streaks of shapes and colours.
"Steve!"
"What?" he laughs. "You don't like this, best friend? What's the problem, best friend? Are you dizzy, best friend?"
"Put me down!"
Steve throws you over his shoulder as you both spin, strong hands preventing you from falling.
"Put me down, Steve, please - okay, okay! You're my best friend! Call me best friend all you want, please!"
Steve's crying with laughter, out of breath and rosy cheeked. He places you back on the ground, smoothing your hair down with rough palms.
You inhale carefully, grabbing onto his biceps as an anchor as you gauge your bearings. You look up at him, and lose your breath all over again.
Chest heaving, tongue darting over his bottom lip, hair mussed but still perfectly styled. He looks a picture, an ancient painting, a statue carved from the finest marble.
"I never want you to stop calling me your best friend," you whisper, so quietly that the breeze takes it.
"Then I won't."
Your hand slips down Steve's arm and into his, fingers linking gently.
"I missed you."
"I missed you so much, Birdy. You have no idea."
The childhood nickname shoots a lightning bolt through your heart, shiver running up your back involuntarily.
The two of you would sit and watch cartoons for hours on the floor of Steve's living room, pressing your little heads together to see the TV better. He'd joke that you sounded like Tweety Bird, all sweet and lispy. The nickname was born that day, and stuck ever since.
"How was California?"
"So good. I'll tell you all about it later. How's your engagement party?"
"It's good."
You try to sound convincing but your voice cracks, giving you away instantly. Busted.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. There's a few people you know back there - from school, the neighbourhood, family. They'll all wanna see you."
"I'll socialise later. Wanna talk to you first."
The intensity in his voice makes you nervous. You realise you're still holding his hand, so you drop it, crossing your arms over your chest.
"You didn't RSVP."
"Didn't get your invite. Travelling."
"I called your mom. She said she'd tell you."
"She didn't."
"She told me she did."
The crickets continue to chirp, gentle breeze blowing your hair into your face. You look at Steve pointedly, unwilling to be the first to break.
"What are you doing here, Steve?"
"It's your engagement party."
"So you've said."
"I haven't seen you in months."
"I tried to call, but you stopped answering."
"Birdy-"
"I'm just saying, Steve. We haven't spoken in months, I feel like you've been point blank ignoring me, I've had to come to terms with the fact that you probably wouldn't be at this party or the wedding and then all of a sudden you just show up? Unannounced?"
"I know how this looks."
"Do you?"
You're not entirely sure where all of this anger has come from, but you can't seem to tamp it down. It's bubbling, simmering, threatening to spill over the surface dramatically any second.
"I wasn't sure I could do this. Any of it."
"Do what?"
"Stand by and watch you make a mistake."
You scoff, laughing at him in disbelief. He's never been one to sugarcoat things, and usually, it's one of your favourite things about him. But not today.
"Don't you fucking dare, Steve."
"Birdy, be real. The guy is a prick. And you want to marry him? You're a smart girl, the smartest person I know. You've got to see that none of this makes any sense."
"So you showed up here to yell at me? Criticise my life choices? Thanks, Steve. Thanks a million. Some best friend, huh?"
"I've done nothing but support you."
"You ran away! Across the country! How is that support?"
"Fine, maybe I can't support straight up stupidity!"
"Am I smart or am I stupid? Which one is it?"
Steve sighs, running his fingers through his hair as he watches you pace the gravel in front of him. You're vibrating with fury now. It's something he's seen before. Something he knows how to navigate better than anyone. He knows you. He knows you need an outlet here.
He also knows that you're never more hyperaware than when you're mad. So, he takes his opportunity.
"I came here to tell you not to marry him."
You stop dead in your tracks, shaking your head in denial.
"...Why, Steve? Why would you say that?"
"You know why."
"No."
You take a deep breath and will yourself not to cry. In the garden, you can hear people laughing, singing along to some 70s pop song you've never liked. You pray silently that no one comes looking for you.
You take a step closer to Steve, standing up straight.
"Say it."
He looks at you incredulously, shocked by your sudden defiance.
"Say it, Steve. If you came all this way to say it, then fucking say it."
Steve steps into you, closing down the space. You don't move, determined not to back down.
"You're going to hate me if I say it, Birdy."
"I don't give a fuck anymore. Say. It."
Steve runs his tongue over his bottom lip, never once breaking eye contact with you. The silence seems to stretch on infinitely, thick and blanketing like fresh snow falling.
"I'm in love with you."
You feel like you've been punched in the gut. You take a deep breath and try to stay on two feet, wobbling where you stand. Finally, you find your voice.
"Fuck you, Steve Harrington. Fuck. You."
He laughs, but there's no humour in it.
"Yeah."
"How dare you? How dare you come to my engagement party and start confessing your feelings? You could have told me anytime, but you chose today?"
He goes to interrupt but you hold a finger up, effectively shutting him up.
"How long, huh? How long have you been in love with me?"
Steve's trembling, chest stuttering with the force of his confession.
"For as long as I can remember."
You haven't looked away from him once. You're frozen in place, suspended in the moment.
"No you haven't."
"You're gonna tell me how I feel now, Birdy?"
"Yeah, Steve, I am. Because I don't believe you. You're King Steve, ladies man, notorious player. You were never seen with the same girl twice in high school. Don't you remember? Sneaking into my room at night, whispering under my blankets about your latest hookup, telling me all the dirty details?"
"I remember," he whispers, voice laced with something like sadness. "Of course I remember."
"You don't get to tell me this now. It's not fair, Steve."
"Why not, huh?"
"Because I've always been in love with you! Always."
Steve stumbles backwards, dizzy and disorientated.
"No you haven't."
"You're gonna tell me how I feel now?" you laugh in disbelief. "I've always been in love with you. Everyone knows it. My parents, your parents, all of our friends... I think the goddamn mailman knew, Steve!"
"I didn't."
"Blissful ignorance," you chuckle humourlessly.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I knew it wouldn't change anything."
Steve's eyes go wide as he keels over, as if the wind has been knocked out of him.
"Wouldn't change anything? Birdy, it... I-I can assure you it... It would have changed everything."
You both look at each other, breathless and riddled with confusion. There's something flowing through your veins, something unintelligible, something unrecognisable.
"Why would you do this today?" you choke out, sobs threatening to break free. "Of all the days, Steve."
"Because I'm going insane!" he yells, voice raising. "I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't function knowing that you're going to marry a man you don't love. It's ruining my life, Birdy!"
"You don't think it's ruining mine? Huh?"
You take a breath, very aware that if you shout anymore, multiple people are going to come running from the garden.
"This is selfish, Steve. And you're not selfish."
He looks down at you, bottom lip wobbling.
"I am when it comes to you. Always have been."
"You're breaking my fucking heart, baby."
You choke out the words before bursting into tears, sobs wracking your frame. Steve grabs your hand and guides you to the stone steps, sitting you down next to him. Against better judgment, he slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.
He smells so familiar, so comforting, that it only makes you cry harder. You bury your face in his chest, fingers tangled into his dress shirt, holding on for dear life.
"I'm sorry," he's mumbling. "I'm so fucking sorry. I had to. I really had to."
"I know," you're muttering back. "I know you did. I know."
You lift your head to look at him only to find he's crying too, years of emotion dripping down his face. You wipe his tears with your thumbs, your heart shattering at the sight in front of you.
Steve's only made you cry once before. In ninth grade, you'd stupidly assumed that the two of you would go to the prom together. Steve had made a joking comment about always being your date, and you hadn't questioned it. Then, one Friday night, he'd snuck into your room to tell you excitedly that he'd asked Lizzy Buchanan to the dance, and she'd said yes. You'd burst into tears immediately, much to your teenage embarrassment, willing yourself to play your cards closer to your chest. Steve had crumbled instantly, crying because you were.
That's how it's always been. He cries, you cry. You cry, he cries. He's just not usually the cause of the tears.
"I'm sorry, Birdy," he chokes. "This was the only way."
"I know," you soothe, rubbing circles into his wet cheeks with your fingers. "I know. You're not the villain here, Steve. You never were."
His eyes are trained to yours, silent communication passing back and forth. The two of you have always had the ability to practically read each other's minds.
You're not sure who moves first - perhaps it's the universe, pulling you together by the strings woven into your chests - but suddenly your lips are melded together, moving as if it's the easiest thing in the world. Steve's clinging to you as if you're his life source, a man in the desert without water.
You tangle your fingers into his hair to tug him impossibly closer, eyes fluttering when he groans, deep and visceral. He spreads his legs and pulls you between them, both of you slotting together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Your tears are dancing onto each other's cheeks, mixing like rain water and gasoline.
Suddenly, you yank yourself from his grip, standing up and smoothing down your silky dress. Steve prepares himself for the yelling, the screaming, a slap that he most definitely deserves.
Instead, he's met with you, chest heaving, skin warm, eyes heavy. You're looking at him expectantly.
"Come with me," you croak, voice hoarse and untrustworthy.
You grab his hand and slink through the front door, up the grand staircase and into a room with a heavy oak door. He follows you obediently, confused but completely trusting.
It's your hotel room. A marriage suite. A spacious, windowed room, with makeup scattered across the vanity and suitcases half unpacked on the floor. The bed is still made, which makes Steve breathe a sigh of relief. He hasn't had you here. The room isn't marred.
The minute you shut the door you're back on Steve, shoving him up against the hard wood. He grabs handfuls of your ass and spins you around, backing you into the cold surface behind you for stability. He lifts you easily, wrapping your legs around his waist as he kisses you again.
Steve trails his lips down your neck as you rock your hips, desperate to find some friction. You whine gently, fingers tugging at his hair a little rougher than intended to get your message across.
"What do you need, honey?" he murmurs, afraid to disrupt the atmosphere.
"You."
Steve throws his head back as he groans, exposing his throat to you. You waste no time in nipping up the expanse of it, sinking your teeth in with no regard for the consequences. You're too far gone now, not worried about looking back.
Walking backwards, Steve tosses you onto the bed, chuckling when you almost bounce off of it. He unbuttons and strips his shirt, pulling his belt from the loops as he goes. You can only lie there and watch, wondering when your best friend became less of a boy and more of a man. He's all corded muscle and tanned skin, freckled and perfect.
Steve crawls between your legs, kissing you tenderly.
"Wanna take my time with you," he murmurs between kisses. "Can't right now. Will, though. Promise."
You feel as if there's electricity crackling across your skin, pulsing and alive. It's never felt like this with anyone. It never will again.
"Promise?"
You can't help the slight insecurity that colours your voice, young and unsure.
"I promise, Birdy. Cross my heart."
He takes your hand in his and places it over his chest, as if to solidify his point.
You nod and kiss him again, desperate to have every inch of his skin on yours.
Steve shimmies your underwear down your legs, tossing them behind him somewhere. Shucking his trousers off, he pushes your dress up and around your waist, groaning when he gets a good look at you.
"Prettiest girl in the world. He doesn't deserve you. Never did."
"And you do?"
"I'll spend every day for the rest of time proving that I do."
With that he's pushing into you, sliding home with one smooth thrust. Both of you gasp, grabbing onto the other person to use them as an anchor.
"Please, Steve," you're whispering. "Give me everything. I want it all."
"You've got no idea how long I've been waiting for this."
"I do," you laugh, "I do. Because I've been waiting just as long."
Steve chuckles and leans down to kiss you, slipping his tongue into your mouth to memorise the way you taste. There's remnants of champagne on your lips, along with the minty lip gloss you've loved for as long as he can remember.
He wastes no time setting a steady rhythm, thrusts deep and measured. You rake your nails down his back, clawing at this skin, praying silently that you leave your mark. Little do you know, you staked your claim on him a long, long time ago.
"S'good, Stevie," you whine. "Fuck, so good."
"Does he make you come? Does he even try?"
You shake your head frantically, closing your eyes when Steve laughs dryly.
"Didn't think so. He can't make you feel the way I can, baby. He'll never be able to."
His words are only pushing you closer and closer to the edge, red hot heat building at the pit of your stomach. Steve places one hand at the base of your throat, the heavy weight of it causing your eyes to roll back.
Your sweat slicked skin is plastered to his, every inch of you pressed together. Steve leans down to rest his forehead against yours, panting into each other's mouths.
"I love you," he breathes, hips getting quicker. "I love you. Fuck, I love you."
"I love you," you sob, back arching as you find your release. Stars dance across your vision as you tighten around Steve, nails leaving crescent moons on the skin of his shoulders.
Steve's right there with you, back flexing and fingers leaving their prints on your hips as he groans. It's the prettiest sound you've ever heard. Your mind loops it for you, playing it on repeat as he collapses his weight on top of your body.
"I meant it," he mutters against your damp chest. "I do love you. Always have."
You kiss his forehead gently, smoothing the hair away from his face.
"I meant it too. I love you. You taught me what love was in the first place, Steve."
He leans up to press his lips to yours, tender and honey sweet.
You realise the gravity of the situation all of a sudden, your heart rate increasing in Steve's ear.
"Hey, hey. Birdy. Don't panic, okay? We'll figure this out."
You think for a moment, weighing up your options in your head. Unexpectedly, you're jumping out of bed, fixing your dress and slipping on your underwear and heels.
"What are you doing, babe?"
You adjust your hair and swipe your fingers under your eyes to salvage your makeup in the mirror, turning to face the man who's now dressing himself frantically.
"Have you had a drink tonight?"
"No, I drove here."
"Perfect."
You grab your purse and stand by the door, waiting for him to follow. When he looks at you in pure confusion, you chuckle.
"Let's run away."
"Birdy... what?"
"Steve. You heard me. Let's. Run. Away."
He scans your face for any sign of hesitation, but all he finds is love. Adoration. Assuredness. That's all the confirmation he needs.
He runs at you, picking you up and spinning you around. Grabbing his hand, the two of you sneak down the stairs, slipping out of the front door as quietly as possible.
You throw yourself into the front seat of his BMW, vibrating with adrenaline as Steve starts up the engine. It roars to life, and you're very aware that people are going to come looking for you.
But you don't care.
Steve links your fingers, resting your intertwined hands in his lap as he reverses. You go to look back towards the garden, but you stop yourself.
"Can't move forward if you're always looking back, right?"
Steve laughs, leaning over to kiss your warm cheek.
"Truer words have never been spoken, Birdy."
He brings the car to a stop before you begin down the winding driveway, looking at you carefully.
"You ready?"
You take a deep breath, grinning at him.
"I've been ready since we were five years old."
He smiles at you, bright and blinding, and there's no doubt in your mind that you've made the right choice.
Can't move forward if you keep looking back, after all.
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@enigmaticloki @joekeerysslut @s-trawberryv-eins @wintressoldier36 @mangomastani
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candycandy00 · 4 months ago
Text
Once Upon a Time - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic Part 3 (Final)
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Retold fairytales featuring the JJK men! This is Sleeping Beauty featuring Sukuna! After your parents are killed, leaving you as the young queen, you hire the mysterious and violent Sukuna to be your Captain of the Guard to protect you from an evil fairy’s curse. You’re in love with him, but he just keeps refusing you! 
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Read Gojo x Cinderella Here!
Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. AU. Reader as Sleeping Beauty, Sukuna as her Captain of the Guard. Oral sex. Rough sex. Creampie. 
Any feedback is adored! Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more and @benkeibear.
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Sitting on your throne, Sukuna standing guard at your side, you listen as your advisers try to convince you not to go looking for the old fairy. 
“Surely she’ll give up now!” one of them says. “The curse didn’t work!”
Sukuna gives him a withering stare. “We don’t know that the curse is over. We don’t know what will happen if she’s pricked by a needle again.”
You nod. “If I just fall asleep again, that’s no problem, since we know how to fix it.”
Sukuna grins. “I’m ready to perform my duty at anytime.”
The other advisers look away from him awkwardly. 
“The problem is,” you continue, “when the good fairy altered the curse, we don’t know if that was a one time deal, of it it applies to every time I touch a needle. I can’t risk finding out.”
The lady adviser looks at Sukuna. “And you believe the old fairy will try to kill her in more conventional ways now?”
“She will. And I’ll protect the queen, but it would be much simpler for all of us if I just go kill the old bitch.”
The lady adviser nods. “I see. The two of you have my support. We will look after the kingdom in your absence.”
The other two advisers seem to bristle at that statement. “This is a terrible idea!” one of them shouts, looking directly at you. “You have no heir! If you’re killed on this fool’s errand, the kingdom will be thrown into chaos!”
“I won’t be killed,” you say firmly. “Sukuna will be with me. I’m confident that he will keep me alive.”
The third adviser throws his hands up as if in dismay. “You don’t even know where to look! The woods are vast and sprawling! How will you find the old fairy?”
Sukuna speaks up again. “I know someone who can help with that. They’re a bit of a fairy themself.” 
That piques your interest. Sukuna has never revealed anything about his life before he met you, so even hearing about an acquaintance of his is new territory. “Let’s go see this person you know,” you tell him. 
No one else objects as the two of you prepare to leave. You wear a simpler dress, something easy to move in and won’t have your tailor in tears when you return with it dirty and ripped. You pack a bag with dried foods, water, and some basic supplies, and then the two of you head out. 
The walk through the town is arduous. So many of the people have somehow already heard about your brief time asleep and are happy to see you up and about. You don’t know how news traveled so fast, but you’re happy you can put the people at ease. 
Once you reach the edge of the woods, Sukuna steps in, seemingly with no thought or care for the dangers. All your life, you’ve been told to stay away from the woods, that great beasts live there, as well as old magic and wicked fairies and all manner of horrible things. So to see someone simply walk on in without worry surprises you.  
He turns to look at you. “Getting cold feet, princess?”
You shake your head. “Not at all. I just thought you might escort me like a proper gentleman,” you say, stepping in after him. 
“So you want me to hold your hand?”
“No! I’m perfectly fine walking on my own!”
He gives you an irritated look. “Are you really acting shy about holding hands after I’ve already fucked you?”
You feel your face heating up. “Must you speak so crudely?”
“You like when I speak crudely,” he says. 
You stare at him, at his strange tattoos. “You are an odd man. Where do you even come from?”
He’s walking a few steps in front of you now, leading you deeper into the forest. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
For the next hour, the two of you don’t talk much, only occasional questions, until Sukuna suddenly stops and holds one hand up. “We’re in their territory. They’ll be along as soon as they sense me.”
You notice the air seems much colder here, in this part of the woods. There are even a few icicles hanging from some of the upper branches of trees! 
The two of you only walk a few more minutes before a person seems to appear out of nowhere, standing a few feet ahead. From here, you can’t tell if they’re a man or a woman, but they’re clearly beautiful. They’re wearing strange robes, of material you can’t identify, and their hair is a shiny silver color that glints in the patches of sunlight breaking through the trees. 
They look at you with a bored expression before turning their gaze to Sukuna. Then they immediately rush forward and drop into a bow before him. 
“Lord Sukuna! I welcome you to my home. What can I do to serve you?”
You look at the newcomer in shock, then turn to Sukuna. “Lord?”
He waves his hand dismissively. “A remnant of a different life.” Then he looks down at the bowing figure. “Uraume, you know these woods well. Do you know where the one called the ‘old fairy’ lives?”
Uraume looks up before slowly standing. “I have an idea of where she resides, though I’m not certain. I can go and confirm if you like.”
Sukuna regards Uraume with a complicated expression, and lowers his voice slightly. “The magic you have here, is it enough to deal with the old fairy if she attacks you?”
Uraume blinks, seeming surprised. “I appreciate your concern, my lord. But I won’t engage with her. She uses old magic, the kind baked into the origins of this world. I will only confirm her presence and return here.”
Sukuna nods. “Be careful. Don’t leave me alone here.”
Uraume’s cold eyes slide over to you. “If I may say, my lord, it looks like you aren’t alone.”
Sukuna glances at you as well, a look of irritation on his face. “I’ve softened too much. Killing the old fairy should improve my mood.”
Uraume gives another quick bow, and then they leave. You approach Sukuna, feeling like he’s suddenly a different person. You feel like you need to talk, to start a conversation, anything to call him back to you. 
“How do you know Uraume?” you ask. 
“They’re a former servant of mine,” he answers, not looking you in the face. Even his tone of voice seems different. 
“Servant? Are you… some kind of royalty? From another kingdom?”
He laughs. “I’ve been called a king, but I’m not royalty.”
You frown. “What does that mean?”
He looks at you finally, and his gaze is so cold, it’s frightening. What happened to him? “You’re asking too many questions. My patience is growing thin.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you say, your voice weaker than you intended. “I didn’t mean to pry. I just thought… we were growing closer…”
His harsh gaze softens slightly. “Don’t apologize. Seeing Uraume again has reminded me of who I once was. And I slipped back into my old mannerisms.”
“You talk as if you’re a different person entirely now,” you say, stepping closer. 
He gives you that familiar grin, and you feel your unease begin to fade. “I am, princess.”
Uraume returns a few minutes later, much faster than you expected. They look as if they never even left, totally calm, not a single hair out of place. It doesn’t appear that they were in any danger. 
They bow before Sukuna again, and you realize this makes you uncomfortable. As a ruler yourself, you’ve never demanded anyone bow to you, at least not like this. A slight inclination of the head as you pass has always been perfectly acceptable, or nothing at all. What kind of king was Sukuna if his subjects felt the need to bow so deeply and so quickly? 
“I’ve found her, my lord.”
“Good. Lead the way,” Sukuna replies, and Uraume rises smoothly to their feet. 
As you and Sukuna follow them deeper into the woods, your curiosity gets the better of you again. “They don’t mind coming with us? We’ll be putting them in danger.”
Sukuna scoffs. “Uraume has never minded danger for my sake. And by some cruel joke of fate, they’re much more powerful than me right now.”
The way he says it, as if that wasn’t always the case, only makes you more curious. Uraume is clearly a fairy of the woods. Even you can sense the magic coming from them. How could a mere human man ever be more powerful than that? But you keep the question to yourself for now. The distance in Sukuna’s eyes earlier still worries you. 
**************************
Sukuna walks a few steps ahead to fall in pace with Uraume. The former servant glances at him, and it’s obvious they feel a measure of discomfort not walking behind him. 
“The old fairy,” Sukuna says, “How strong is she?”
Uraume pulls a low branch back, keeping it from scraping Sukuna. “I’ve heard she is physically weak, but her magical power easily dwarfs my own. She’s cunning, and has many tricks to rely on.”
Sukuna feels a rush of excitement. He hasn’t fought a powerful opponent in so very long. He’s smiling as he says, “So she could easily kill me.”
Uraume apparently realizes what he’s thinking. “She should be quite stimulating, my lord.”
Suddenly Sukuna remembers the woman walking a few steps behind, fragile and delicate, the old fairy’s main target. He should feel concern, perhaps even fear for her safety. But the thrill of the coming battle has overrided all other feelings. 
“Uraume, I need you to vow something for me.”
They look at him curiously. “Of course, Lord Sukuna. Whatever you wish.”
He glances back at the queen. “Protect her. From everything. No matter who or what you have to fight, let no harm come to her.”
Uraume looks over their shoulder at the woman. “I vow it, my lord. It seems she has become important to you.”
Sukuna shrugs. “She makes the time pass faster.”
Uraume says nothing more, and soon they pass into a section of the woods much darker than the rest. It’s definitely still daytime, the sun is certainly still up, but here in these woods it’s dark as night. The trees grow taller, closer together, like silent guards. Their branches are gnarled, their foliage mostly absent except for patches of brown. No flowers bloom here, and the air crackles with ancient magic. 
Sukuna sticks close to the queen, who is doing her best to show no fear, while Uraume leads them on, seeming cool and calm as always. Up ahead, he spots a castle. Unlike the queen’s well-kept (if relatively modest) castle, this one is dilapidated. Dark, twisting vines cover the place like a veil, and a strange creeping fog floats around their legs. It’s a place designed to strike fear into the hearts of men. But Sukuna only feels anticipation. 
The vines part as they reach the castle, as if they’re sentient. The heavy wooden door opens, and a figure clad in black robes emerges from the shadows. From back here, it’s hard to make out the details of her face, but Sukuna can feel it: this is the old fairy.  
All the fairies were given simple titles. The good fairy, the ice fairy (the name given to Uraume), the wood fairy, etc. And Sukuna assumed the old fairy was simply, well, old. He did not expect her to be positively ancient, probably older than this world itself. She looks like any elderly lady, but he can feel the old and powerful magic radiating from her. 
She looks at him, her eyes focusing on him instead of the queen. 
“Why are you here, interloper?” she asks, her voice a crackle of dark energy. 
Sukuna raises an eyebrow at that. “You know who I am?”
She laughs humorlessly. “Anyone with true power knows who you are, Fallen One. Tell me, what has it been like, cursed to live a thousand lives as a weak and powerless human?”
Sukuna grins at her. “It’s not been so bad. Power comes in many forms. I’ve made due with what I can grasp.”
The old fairy finally looks at the queen behind him. “You were foolish enough to bring her to me? Or are you hoping for some sort of trade?”
“I came to take your fucking head, you decrepit old bitch!”
Sukuna doesn’t miss the flicker of fear that passes over the old fairy’s face. It’s amusing that he can inspire such fear even in this weakened state. 
He lunges forward, drawing his sword. The vines move to ensnare him, slithering about like snakes, trying to wrap around his limbs. His combat instincts resurface like muscle memory, his body dodging before his slow human brain can even process the attacks. 
As he cuts through the vines and closes in on the fairy, a great burst of green light erupts from the ground, aimed straight for him. He avoids the light, not sure what sort of attack it is but knowing better than to let it hit him. 
He glances back, sees that Uraume is beside the queen and has formed a shield of ice around the two of them, then refocuses on the fairy. 
Dodging those bursts of light, he rushes forward at incredible speed, aiming his sword forward. He realizes he’s smiling, enjoying the thrill of battle as the vines and green light blasts try to impede him. The old fairy makes a motion with her hands, trying to conjure something to defend herself with, but she’s too slow for Sukuna’s incredible speed. 
The blade pierces her body, running straight through her chest like a hot knife through butter. She looks up at him, and the lack of terror on her face tells him this is not over. It was way too easy.  
A giant burst of the green light bursts from her body, and he jumps back in time to avoid it, pulling his sword out of her in the process. He watches as the old fairy’s shape contorts, shifting, growing. It’s bathed in the green light, creating a shield he can’t touch. 
Within minutes, the human-shaped old fairy has transformed into a massive black dragon, its wings sprawled out behind it as it roars at the sky. The green light glows from its open mouth, and it begins walking toward Sukuna. 
Any man would be struck by terror, would flee for his life before such darkness and raw power. But Sukuna is not just any man. His heart is pounding, his adrenaline flaring within this weak human body, his soul remembering battles from many lifetimes ago. Ah yes, the person he used to be would have crushed this pitiful dragon within seconds.
The dragon rises up, its long neck extending skyward, as its mouth opens wider and a beam of green light shoots out. Sukuna moves to dodge, wondering if he could tank a direct hit, when a wall of ice appears before him. The ice shatters, but absorbs the bulk of the attack. Sukuna looks back at Uraume. In another life, he would have scolded them for interfering, but he’s different now. He’s a human fighting a supernaturally powerful ancient being. He wonders idly if the people who fought him so long ago felt the way he does now. 
If so, they owe him some gratitude. Because he hasn’t felt this kind of exhilaration since-
His thoughts are interrupted by another beam of green light, this one obvious enough for him to dodge before the dragon even opens its mouth. He’s beginning to read its moves, to predict what it will do. For all the old fairy’s power, she clearly hasn’t seen much actual combat. She probably scares off most threats before having to launch a single attack. Compared to Sukuna’s battle sense, she’s practically a newborn babe when it comes to fighting. 
And that is her undoing. She can’t follow or anticipate Sukuna’s movements, and so he gets above and behind her by dodging, weaving, and jumping off the wall of the castle beside her. He swings his sword down, chopping off the dragon’s head with one brutal swipe. 
Green light explodes from the dragon’s neck, and engulfs Sukuna as he stands nearby. It doesn’t hurt, but instead seems to be entering his body. It’s the old fairy’s power! It’s transferring to him! 
He stands completely still, letting the power flow into his body, filling him. It feels so good! So… familiar! 
He laughs loudly as his body glows. Uraume and the queen step closer. 
“Look, Uraume!” he calls, his voice sounding thunderous. “Real power! After all these lifetimes of weakness, to feel power like this flowing through me again… I’ve become myself!”
Uraume bows low. “I am pleased to see it, my lord!”
Sukuna’s gaze slides over to the other person in the woods with them - the queen of a tiny, insignificant kingdom. He’d almost forgotten she’s here. She’s not bowing, which irritates him. And she’s staring at him as his newfound power swirls around, warm and energized air whipping her hair and dress around her. In her eyes is not fear, but sadness. Ridiculous. She should fear him like all the other pitiful humans in this world. After all, their new king has arrived. 
“Insolent woman,” he says, directing a thin beam of the green light in her direction. He’d intended to shoot it very close to her as a warning, but a sudden wall of ice appears, blocking it. 
Sukuna looks sharply at Uraume. “You would get in my way?”
Uraume looks troubled, a rare expression on their usually cold face. “I am fulfilling my vow, Lord Sukuna. You made me swear no harm would come to her.”
Sukuna scoffs. “That was when I was weak. Human. I’m back to my old self now. I release you from your vow.”
Uraume is still bowing low to the ground. “My lord… you know you will always have my loyalty above all else, but you seemed quite desperate for her to be protected.”
Sukuna looks back at the woman, realizing she’s moved closer. She’s pressing against the force of his power to approach him. What could possess her to be so foolish? He decides to make it easy for her, by moving to her himself. His motion is so fast, it must seem to her like he teleported directly in front of her. 
Her eyes are wet with tears. “What’s happened to you?” she asks, her voice fragile. She reaches up one hand as if to touch his face. The nerve of this weak creature! 
He knocks her hand away from him and gives her the sort of glare that had monsters and men alike begging for their lives. “I’ve returned to my former self, to who I was meant to be. Your lack of fear and respect annoys me.”
She shakes her head, and the tears around her eyes glitter like stars. “I don’t fear you. I fear losing you.”
He narrows his red eyes. “I am not yours to lose.” 
She looks so hurt as she reaches up again. “Sukuna, please, I need you!”
He grabs her wrist, such a frail little thing. He could snap it with a touch, reduce her to a wailing lump of flesh at his feet. But he suddenly remembers the night before, the way he held her in his arms, the taste of her skin, the way she felt beneath him, the way she clenched his cock. 
Such things should mean nothing to him. He’s had thousands of women across his many lifetimes. But he releases her wrist and says, “Bow, and I might keep you as a concubine.”
Her eyes widen. Is that heartbreak within their depths? He almost grins. He can play with her as much as he likes later, after he establishes who the true ruler is.  
The hand he just released moves up again, but this time, her open palm strikes his face. The slap was so weak and unexpected, he didn’t sense its approach. For him, it was nothing. But the audacity! The insult! He looks at her, ready to rip her limb from limb, but he freezes when he sees her face. 
She’s wearing that haughty, defiant look that he enjoyed so much, crossing her arms as she says, “No, you bow!”
The whole thing is so shocking, he doesn’t know whether to laugh or slaughter her instantly. 
“You called me your queen!” she says. “You said you would protect me! You said I’m yours! If that’s true, then you’re mine as well. I won’t give you up so easily, even to your former self!”
He stares at her, at the fierce determination in her eyes, and he’s caught between the desire to break her for good or to pull her into his arms. His past self warring with the man he’s become over these long lifetimes. 
“Foolish woman. You have no idea who I am. Even the most powerful creatures trembled before me!”
“I don’t care,” she says. “That person you were, that king or ‘fallen one’ or whatever you called yourself… he can fuck off!”
Sukuna looks at her, at this weak little human who has somehow, against all odds, managed to bend him to her will. He remembers what he told the old fairy. “Power comes in many forms.” He hadn’t realized in that moment that the most powerful thing in all the worlds is something he’d long ago dismissed as worthless. 
He clenches his fist, feeling the power course through him for a final time, committing the sensation to memory. Then, he releases it. It flows out of his body like a waterfall, pouring into the world around him. And just like that, he’s human again. Weak. Normal. 
His queen watches the power dissipate, then wraps her arms around his neck. 
“I hope you know what I gave up for you,” he says. 
She leans in closer, kissing him as she says, “I’ll make it up to you tonight.”
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You untie the laces of your nightdress, letting the silky sheer fabric fall from your shoulders and pool on the floor, revealing that you wore nothing underneath it. Sukuna’s eyes rake over your form from his place on the bed, sitting on the edge of it, already undressed, thighs open invitingly. 
As you step over to him, you look over his tattoos. “So they just appear on your body? In every new life?”
He follows your gaze to the black lines across his body. “They usually appear when I hit puberty. That’s when my memories of past lives come back as well. They’re probably supposed to be part of the curse, but I like them.”
“I like them too,” you say, tracing over one of them with your fingertip. 
“You always do,” he says with a strange smile. 
What does that mean? You decide to leave the question for now. There are others you want to ask. 
“So,” you say as he pulls you into his lap, “you were evil in your original lifetime?”
He grins as one of his hands slides around your body to squeeze your breast. “I’ve been evil in every lifetime, princess.”
You don’t mind him still calling you that, especially in intimate moments like this. You smile, planting quick kisses along his jaw and neck. “Really? What kinds of things did you do?”
“I killed a lot of people. More people than you can imagine.”
“Did they deserve it?”
His grin fades slightly. “Some did. Most didn’t.”
“Why did you kill them then?” 
“Because I could,” he says simply, looking you in the eyes. “Does that bother you?”
You think for a moment. “No, because you’re not that person anymore. And if he ever tries to take over again, I’ll chase him away.”
He watches you slip out of his lap and down to your knees in front of him. You maintain eye contact while reaching one hand up to grasp the huge cock standing at attention between his legs. You slide your hand up and down, just getting a feel for the sheer size of it. You lean forward and kiss the tip, sweetly, like it’s a cuddly pet, then lick the clear fluid that smeared over your lips. 
Looking up at him, you’re not surprised that he’s impossible to fluster in moments like this. Having memories of all his past lives means he probably remembers having his dick sucked thousands of times. But there is another way to get a reaction out of him. 
“I do hope you’ll dress appropriately for the royal wedding,” you say, just before taking almost his entire cock into your mouth, letting it slide down your throat. 
“Wedding?! Ah… fuck!” he groans, tossing his head back as you gag and sputter around his length. You’ve never done this before and you didn’t realize how hard it is to keep breathing while practically swallowing a massive cock. 
You pull away, stroking the shaft that’s now coated in your spit with one hand. “You’ll be king consort,” you say, then you extend your tongue and run it along the underside of his dick, from base to tip, one hand still stroking him while the other gently squeezes his balls. 
He looks down at you, his usual smug expression cracking just a little. “I don’t remember agreeing to marry you, princess.”
Your tongue is swirling around his tip. “Oh? I’m sure my advisers would prefer I marry a royal from a neighboring kingdom.”
Suddenly his hand is in your hair, pressing your head forward, effectively shoving his cock back into your mouth. You look up at him as he pushes into your throat again, choking you. “There,” he says in that achingly smooth voice of his, “you’re much cuter with that bratty mouth of yours full of my cock.”
You make a whimpering sound as you struggle to suck air in through your nose, and after a few seconds he releases you. While you pull back and catch your breath, he gives you an almost pouty look. “As if I’d let another man touch what’s mine.”
Grinning up at him as your hand goes back to work, you lick your messy lips and say, “Royal wedding it is, then.”
He sighs in defeat as you wrap your lips around him again. “I suppose I’ll do you the favor of marrying you,” he says as you move your head back and forth, letting his cock pump in and out of your warm mouth. “Be grateful. I’ve never married anyone in any of my previous lifetimes.”
This surprises you, and makes you feel heated to know you’ll be his first wife. His hand is in your hair again, gentle this time, just enough force to let you know he’s in control. And when he’s ready, he pulls you back so that only his tip remains in your mouth, and then shoots his load into it, coating the entire inside.  
The amount of it takes you by surprise, and you have to start swallowing quickly to avoid spilling any. Pity, you would have liked to savor it. 
He doesn’t offer his hand to help you to your feet. You’ll have to work on teaching him to be a gentleman. Instead he’s moving aside to give you room on the bed. When you climb on, he pushes you onto your back and positions himself between your sprawled legs. He reaches down with one hand and rubs over your slit with his thumb, checking your wetness, then drags your lower half into his lap. 
“Ready for me to turn this proud queen into a blubbering mess again?” he asks, his cock rubbing against your folds. 
You frown. “I did not blubber! I was practically uncon-“
His cock slides in, this time going all the way to the hilt on the first thrust, making you gasp as your eyes roll back and your body jerks. 
He nestles himself against your cervix, then pulls almost all the way out before slamming back in, making you cry out pathetically. “What were you saying, princess?”
You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. Only stilted moans and garbled cries. He’s so big, and he’s going so deep, your mind is going blank just like before. 
“I like you best like this,” he says with a laugh, pounding into you ruthlessly. “So fucked out you can’t even think straight.”
His hands are on your hips, gripping tightly, moving your body as he pleases. “You like it right… here…!” he grunts, hitting a spot that makes your eyes go wide and your fists grip the sheets beneath you. Your mouth falls open, a strangled yell escaping you. Oh god, this is even better than last time! 
One of his hands moves over, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing firm circles into it, making your whole body tremble and tears fill your eyes. Is this going to be a regular thing now? Him making you completely fall apart on his cock? 
“There she is,” he says, watching you quiver and cry. “There’s my pretty princess. Not so haughty now, are you?”
The pleasure is so strong, so intense, you genuinely worry that you’ll lose your mind to it. But you look up at Sukuna, and you realize he’ll always bring you back. So you let go, let the pleasure take you, and cry out loudly as your climax wracks your body. 
“Good girl,” he says, pulling your upper half up from the bed and into his arms, holding you tightly as he fills your womb. 
As you come down from your high, locked in Sukuna’s strong arms, his cock still buried inside you, you realize that both of you had defeated your curses today. And maybe, you’ve both placed new curses on each other, that you’ll never be complete without each other, never experience such blinding pleasure, such love, if you’re ever torn apart. 
You wrap your exhausted arms around him, knowing you’ll never let him go, and he’ll never give you up. 
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anime-to-the-t · 1 year ago
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Finished Itheel's hair and even did the princess version (granted that was a bit more simple) Also, how the hell do y'all post nice looking gifs on here???? Trying to get these things down to 10mb or less was rough...
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Since labotor posted the fairy race mod yesterday and I had to scramble to update the THS custom races patch bc I COMPLETELY forgot I said I'd add lab's fairy race to it I wanted to make my half-fairy half-dragon oc Itheel... and then I went and started making her hair because nothing was close enough.
I realized Isobel's hair is actually pretty close, just need to add the bangs (which currently are edited from Qelira's hair, and I got the bangs for Qelira from Gortash's hair) and the braids (from Lae'zel of course).
This is just the first in-game test; it obviously still needs some work, but the fact that everything is pretty much functioning as it should on the first test is nice. I've come a long way from spending days just trying to get the mesh to show up at all!
Now that Padme's bangs mod is out, I might also work on a version of my hair extensions mod that uses bangs & other parts from my OC hairs (because the closest we have to anime bangs in vanilla is from Ballerina Buns, which *is* in Padme's mod, and Gortash's which I'm surprised isn't in her mod). It will be a separate mod from KHE, though I'll probably call it "Kay's Hair Extensions - Custom Version". I still need to work on the helmet hair version as well (the helmet hairs are NOT autosnap, and I haven't decided how to go about dealing with it.
Also, no Qelira's outfit isn't done; editing the dye masks is proving to be a pain in the ass because for SOME reason (I think the shader has something to do with it, the bg3 equipment generator defaults to using CHAR_BASE_AlphaTest on all the textures and when I changed it to CHAR_BASE the way it interpreted the dye mask colors changed) the game can't tell the difference the primary/secondsry/teriary colors (no matter what shade of blue/purple I use, it reads as leather secondary), and like, I'll use a color channel dye to help see what color it's actually taking, and it's got separate dyes for cloth/leather/metal/other/custom, where when you dye the item Red is primary, green is secondary, blue is tertiary, and everything else is black. Well, I'll use the leather dye & some parts are green, and others are yellow???? And even aside from the color frustration, I would like for the coat to have physics but getting the waist area to cooperate is not going well. Clothing in general just seems more complex than hair ._.
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seireiteihellbutterfly · 9 months ago
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Bridal Shop ft Nanami Kento
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Rating: 18+, MDNI Warnings: Sex, vaginal and clitoral fingering, oral Featuring: Nanami Kento x female reader Word Count: 2590 Summary: A final dress fitting leads to something else when the bridal shop owner takes over your appointment A/N: All images are from pinterest and are linked at the bottom of the post for credit. Inspiration for the wedding dress was this.
Nanami masterlist
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You skipped merrily into the bridal shop, ready for the final fitting. The wedding was only 2 weeks away. A healthy pink glow was visible on your face. Most would say it’s because your wedding day is approaching. Your best friend would tease you that it’s because of the bridal shop owner.
The sweet old woman who had assisted you during your first fitting spots you immediately and waves you over to her. She grasps your hands with wrinkled knotted hands and smiles brightly at you. “Not too long now…You must be very excited!”
“Indeed I am!” You chirp back excitedly. “Will it be a while or…?”
“Not at all! We’re ready for you now. On straight through to the back. Fitting room 2.”
You thank the woman and waltz back into the stall. Not too shortly after the tailor comes in, exchanging warm greetings with you, asking you how wedding planning was going, as she carefully helps you fit into the dress, gently buttoning up the pearl fastenings on the back as she fusses with the skirt, whirling it out around you. Your breath catches as you look at yourself in the mirror.
The dress had been fitted perfectly, the waistline pure perfection to the last millimeter. With the tulle and illusion sleeves, it was like right out of a dream. You feel yourself tear up as you see yourself in the mirror. It was so pretty, beyond your imagination. Ever prepared, the tailor quickly offers you a tissue and a gentle smile. 
“I’ll let you have a moment. Let it all soak in. Let me know when you’re ready to have it taken off.” The tailor exits quietly through the door. You spin around, admiring yourself from all angles. You’re so happy you listened to your fiance when he had insisted on going with this one. 
A fairy tale dress for a princess, he had said. Your smile widens as you do one last twirl. You hear the handle of the fitting room rattle, and turn to tell the tailor you’re ready to change, then freeze when you see who’s standing in the doorway.
Sharp brown eyes look at you with such intensity that you blush. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”
His mouth curves into a soft smile as he takes in the sight of you in your wedding dress. The owner of the bridal shop was quite a striking man, with his physique, styled blonde hair, and impressive height. 
“I wasn’t aware that you visited brides during their fittings.” Your mouth had gone dry. He looked so immaculate in tailored pants and a waistcoat, shirt fitting beautifully to his broad shoulders, sleeves rolled up to his elbows revealing corded, well toned forearms. 
He chuckles at your comment, then steps in, locking the door behind him. Your heart skips a beat and you almost miss his next words over the rush of blood in your ears. 
“Never. But this dress…I have a special affinity for it.”
He stands right behind you, admiring you in the mirror. His eyes rove over the small details of the dress, the little plunge of the neckline, almost modest, between your breasts, the cups of the dress pushing them up flatteringly. 
Nanami Kento was a heartthrob in this locality. Who wouldn’t notice the handsome bridal shop owner? Women were known to wander into the shop to catch a glimpse at him, pretending to be window shopping. Many a bride had blushed as he walked with them through the shop, pulling gowns and asking questions about their dress preferences, giggling as he politely asked to see their rings. 
“Yes…I think this last fitting was much needed. Look at how flattering it looks on your body now.” His large hands softly rest on your waist as you feel rushes of heat run through you. You try your best to not look at the mirror, lest he see how flustered you were getting. His cologne was filling your senses, a deep musky scent that added a forbidden allure. 
“I was right in thinking this lace would look flattering on you.” One of his hands moves towards your front, his long fingers gently tracing the line of fabric near your collarbone, sending skitters of electricity through you. Your heart thumps in your chest as you try to keep your composure.
“Ah…thank you.” You manage to say. “You do have a good eye for what looks best.” You can hear how your voice has taken on a breathy quality and try to focus. You had plans after this, meeting with your bridesmaids for dinner. 
Nanami smiles at your praise, then says, so close to your ear, “Why aren’t you wearing any jewelry today? Apart from your ring I mean.”
His breath makes you tingle with need, making you tongue tied, words stumbling over each other. “I-ah-ahem. Should I be wearing…jewelry?”
“You should. Most brides wear a necklace after a fitting to make sure it doesn’t clash with the neckline.” His fingers creep up from your collarbone to the hollow at the base of your throat and your breath catches. 
“And earrings,” he adds, his other hand abandoning your waist to gently massage your bare earlobe. You feel uncomfortable heat starting to gather between your thighs and resist the urge to lean back against his muscular frame. Your eyes close as he continues to fondle the soft piece of flesh then almost jump out of your skin as his hot breath tickles your other ear.
“Earrings help you figure out if you've chosen the right veil or not.” His lips were practically touching the shell and a strangled gasp leaves your lips.
“You really are the ideal representation of a blushing bride,” Nanami murmurs softly. His hands start to play with your hair, and you swallow, trying to gather the vestiges of your rapidly fading sensibility. 
“Have you decided if you’re wearing your hair up or down?” His fingers swirl the locks of hair flowing down your shoulders, making a loose bun with them at the nape of your neck. It takes you a moment to process his question, the movements of fingers feeling deliciously seductive. 
“Up.” You didn’t trust yourself to say another word.
He nods, leaning forward to look over your shoulder into the mirror. “I think that’s a good choice. Plays well with your features.” His fingers skim over your cheek which looked positively rosy now.
“Were you done with your fitting?”
You give yourself a little shake mentally. “Yes.” You wished he would stop stroking you so tenderly. You were starting to have thoughts quite opposite to the image of a demure bride. 
“I actually need to call back the tailor to help me with this-”
“No need.” He cuts you off smoothly, leaving no room for objection. “I assume she’s busy. And it’s a small task. I can help you.”
With patience, Nanami starts undoing the small pearl buttons. You stand, embarrassment rising, but unable to resist. He was so charming, eyes focused on his task, while you stole glances at him in the mirror, the sharp, chiseled features of his face, the lovely hue of brown his eyes were. You shiver as air hits your bare skin, his fingers going lower and lower, finally reaching the last few buttons near your waist. He spreads apart the fabric, hands caressing your back. His eyes meet yours in the mirror. 
“Look at me,” he whispers, waiting until your eyes met his before sliding the dress off your shoulders, carefully holding the skirt to avoid wrinkling it, revealing the adorable pink lace bra you had worn in hopes of surprising your fiance later. He grips the bodice carefully and moves away from you.
“Step out.” Nanami’s voice isn’t demanding; it was a request. Feeling like your legs had turned to jello, you lift one leg, then the other, stepping out of the dress before he grabs a hanger to put it away. You can feel your sex throb from need and squeeze your legs together, acutely aware that the matching pink panties must have a stain now from your dripping core. 
Once he’s secured the dress, his attention falls back to you. His eyes stop at your thighs. “No garter to go with the dress?”
You glance up at him shyly. “Are garters part of the dress fitting?”
“They should be,” he murmurs before closing the gap between you, his lips covering yours. The tension that had been building inside you snaps and you respond hungrily, body pressing unashamedly against his, feeling the hard muscles under his clothes. 
“You do look good in pink,” he says in a husky voice as you both break apart, only for him to start placing wet kisses on your neck, his hands expertly snapping open the catch of your bra with the same ease as he did with the buttons on your wedding dress. His large hands cup your breasts, massaging them, before his thumbs rest on the centers of your hardened nipples, moving them in circles, the friction making you feel weak at the knees. Your mouth finds his again, tongues brushing against each other, his fingers softly tweaking and pulling the hardened peaks. Your moans are muffled, lost in the greed of his kiss. 
He pulls back before guiding you over to the chair that sits in the corner of the fitting room, helping you comfortably straddle him, softly suckling on one of your nipples while his hands roam down your back, squeezing your waist, holding you tight as you whimper and moan. His hands eventually slide down to your ass, gripping the fat covetously, before slipping below the scanty lace that covered your pussy.
“Why do brides always abstain from sex a few weeks before the wedding?” Nanami muses as he presses dexterous fingers between your wet folds, making you gasp.  
“I-it’s not-” You choke out, unable to form coherent words.
“Look at this.” There’s a raspy quality to Nanami’s voice as he pulls out his fingers for your inspection, covered with your arousal. “Hardly did anything and you’re already making a mess. Honestly, why do you brides do this to yourselves?”
He licks his fingers clean before gripping you under your thighs, momentarily lifting you up, before standing and seating you on the chair instead. Your legs spread apart wantonly, thoughts of decency thrown out the window. Nanami hooks his index around the fabric covering your crotch, pulling it to the side, spreading apart your glistening labia with his other hand. The tangy scent of need hits his nose and he licks a line up from your entrance to your clit, before laying his tongue over the swollen bud, licking sensually. 
You’re trying your best to muffle your noises and failing spectacularly, moans getting louder and needier as he tenderly alternates between sucking and licking your clit, the variations driving out all reasoning, leaving only primal thoughts in your head. Unashamedly, you grind against his mouth, desperate for a release. You sob with delight as he inserts a finger, followed by a second, stretching you out, making you feel deliciously full. You had been abstaining and didn’t realize how much you had missed it. His fingers curl up into that small patch inside you, matching his movements to the pace of his tongue on your clit. Your hands move involuntarily, pulling at his hair, back arching against the chair as he pushes you over the edge. 
A loud, lewd sound leaves your lips as the orgasm takes over, feeling your pussy spasm pleasurably, clit pulsating, wave after wave racking your system. He doesn’t spare a second, quickly unzipping his trousers and adjusting you before slipping his cock into your wetness. 
You were unprepared for the sudden intrusion, making you gasp in shock as you adjust to his thickness, pussy still fluttering from your climax. Your legs wrap around his waist as he moves closer, almost folding you in half and he starts to thrust into you. 
“Fuck…so tight…looks like abstinence…made your pussy forget…how to take cock…” he says between breaths, his movements so sinfully slow, ensuring you feel every inch of him, taking note of every small spasm your body makes around him. 
You whine at his slow thrusts, needing more. “Kento…”
“Did you need something my dear?” You want to shake him for his ability to sound so polite, like you were having tea together instead of him being buried in your cunt. 
“I need more…please…” You can’t keep the urgency out of your voice. His eyes darken at your request.
“Desperate to cum on my cock are you?” he teases, pulling back until he’s almost about to pull out the tip before slamming back into you, making you moan noisily. His hips snap into you, placing his fingers into your mouth, the unspoken command clear in his eyes; wet them.
You suck his fingers, moistening them with your saliva before he removes them, using the lubrication to rub circles onto your clit. The sensation combined with the force of him fucking into you makes your eyes roll back into your head. You were so close, and judging by his grunts and movements getting sloppier, so was he. 
“Such a sweet bride…you’ll be an even sweeter mother someday…” He pants as he maintains a rhythm, close to his own climax. You feel the familiar feeling of heat and tension building in your belly, coiling like a spring waiting to be set free. Soon enough, a second climax rips through you, stealing the breath from your lungs, your mouth open in a silent scream as it grips you. With a grunt, Nanami’s hips snap forward aggressively and you feel his cock spasm, little twitches inside your pussy as he empties himself into you. 
Sated, both of you pant, trying to catch your breath. He reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a small pack of tissues, using one to clean up and catch his cum as he slips out of you. He gently runs another one down your slit, cleaning you up as best as he can.
“Not just good for an emotional bride,” he jokes as he wads up the used tissues.
Your muscles ache in protest as he lowers your legs to the floor. He smiles at your state, exhausted, fucked out in the sweetest way possible. Nanami fusses with your hair, trying to bring it back to a state of decency before handing you your bra.
“You’d better hurry up and get dressed. Dinner with the bridesmaids at 7, yeah?”
OUTSIDE THE FITTING ROOM:
The tailor who had been assisting you was relatively new and she was now waiting in the back break room along with the elderly woman who had greeted you earlier. She clicks her tongue impatiently. 
“I saw Mr. Nanami go into the fitting room she was in…should I be concerned?” she asks the older woman.
The wizened lady giggles at her. The tailor frowns. “What? Am I missing something?”
“That’s his fiancee that came in for a fitting. I say let’s give them a few more minutes. I’m sure he’s already helped her put away the gown.” She laughs heartily at the dumbstruck look on the tailor’s face. 
“Wha-but-” the tailor splutters. “Isn’t it bad luck to see the bride in the wedding dress before the wedding?”
“Considering he’s the one that designed it, I think an exception can be made. Now hush and get back out front. There’s other customers that need attending to.”
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wedding themed divider by: @/ fairytopea Image 1Image 2Image 3
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Support banner by @/cafe kitsune
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wonies-cheeks · 6 months ago
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The First Date | p.js
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Genre: fluff, romance
W/C: 1.1k
⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••✩⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱
On a clear, starry night in Seoul, Jay had planned something special for you. The first date. He wanted to make this evening unforgettable, so he went all out to ensure every detail was perfect. He had chosen a rooftop restaurant known for its stunning city views and exquisite cuisine. Jay arrived early, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit that highlighted his sharp features and confident demeanor. The rooftop was adorned with fairy lights, casting a soft, romantic glow over the elegantly set tables. A live string quartet played softly in the background, adding to the enchanting atmosphere. The evening was perfect, and the anticipation of a first date hung in the air like the scent of roses. 
When you arrived, Jay's eyes lit up. You looked stunning, dressed in a chic outfit that perfectly matched the elegance of the evening and showed off all your beautiful curves. He greeted you with a warm smile and a gentle kiss on the cheek that immediately put you at ease, taking your hand and leading you to the table near the edge of the rooftop, where the view of the city was breathtaking.  
As you settled in, Jay poured you each a glass of sparkling wine. "I hope you like it," he said, his eyes shining with excitement. "I've been looking forward to tonight." 
You shared stories and laughter, the conversation flowing easily. Jay's charm and genuine interest in you made you feel special and cherished. The first course arrived; a beautifully plated appetizer that looked almost too good to eat. Jay watched with satisfaction as you took the first bite and your eyes widened in delight. 
Throughout the evening, Jay continued to surprise you with thoughtful gestures. Between courses, he produced a small, wrapped box from his pocket. "I got you something," he said, a hint of shyness in his voice. Inside was a delicate bracelet, its design simple yet elegant, just like the evening he had planned. 
Your eyes sparkled with happiness as you accepted the gift, and Jay felt a warm sense of accomplishment. He reached across the table to hold your hand, his thumb gently tracing circles on your skin. 
The main course was served, and you two enjoyed the delicious meal, sharing bites and discussing your work life. The city lights twinkled below you both, and the music from the quartet seemed to weave around you, creating a bubble of intimacy that felt like your own little world. 
As the night drew to a close, Jay stood and extended his hand. "Would you like to dance?" he asked. Heart pounding, you accepted, allowing him to lead you to the small dance floor in the corner of the roof. The quartet played a beautiful rendition of a classic love song, the notes wrapping around you like a tender embrace. 
You placed your hand in Jay's, feeling the warmth of his touch. His other hand gently rested on your waist, and you moved closer, your bodies swaying to the rhythm of the music. The world around you seemed to blur, leaving just the two of you in a moment of pure magic. 
As you danced, Jay's eyes never left yours. His gaze was filled with a mix of affection and wonder, making you feel cherished and special. The soft lighting highlighted his features, casting a glow that made everything seem dreamlike. You swayed gently to the music as Jay's arms wrapped around you protectively.  
You moved in perfect harmony, each step bringing you closer together. The music, the atmosphere, and the chemistry between you created an unforgettable experience. Your heart raced with every turn and dip, but Jay’s steady presence reassured you, making you feel safe and adored. 
In that moment, surrounded by the beauty of the restaurant and the enchanting music, you realized how extraordinary this night was. It was more than just a first date; it was the beginning of something special, a memory you would cherish forever. 
Under the starlit sky, with the city as their backdrop, you shared a tender moment. Jay leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. "Thank you for tonight," he whispered. "You've made it perfect." 
You looked up at him, eyes filled with affection. "No, thank you, Jay. This has been magical." 
 You found yourself looking deeply into those brown eyes. His eyes were rich and warm, like the earth after a spring rain, full of depth and quiet strength. They held a universe of unspoken emotions, each glance revealing a new layer of his soul. 
His breath mingled with yours, the intimate proximity creating an illusion where only the two of you existed. You could see the faint reflections of the surrounding world in his irises, but what captivated you most was the way his eyes softened, filled with tenderness and vulnerability. 
In those brown eyes, you saw a silent conversation, a blend of understanding and connection that words could never fully capture. They held a promise of trust, of shared moments and future dreams. The subtle flicker of his gaze, the way his pupils dilated slightly, mirrored your own emotions, creating a silent symphony of shared feelings. 
He smiled, his heart swelling with happiness. "Then let's make sure we have many more nights like this." 
As the final notes of the song played, Jay gently lifted your chin, his fingers soft and warm against your skin. In that quiet, intimate space, he closed the distance, his lips brushing softly against yours in a small, loving kiss. It was a kiss that conveyed everything—a whisper of love, a promise of more to come, and a testament to the connection you had just shared. The touch was light, almost hesitant, as if savouring the moment and the newfound closeness.
Your heart fluttered, and a warm, tingling sensation spread through you. The kiss was tender and gentle, filled with the sweetness of new love and the excitement of endless possibilities. It was a moment that felt both timeless and fleeting, leaving you with a sense of longing for more. 
As you slowly pulled back, your eyes met again, and a shy, joyous smile spread across your faces.  The stars above seemed to shine a little brighter, as if they were witnesses to the love and joy shared on that unforgettable night. 
⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••✩⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱
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impala-dreamer · 10 months ago
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Wonderstruck
A Magical Short Story
~ Attending a wedding alone is rarely fun. Add to it a bunch of people you don't know all hidden behind masks, things can get a little shaky. But sometimes, if you're lucky, magic can happen...~
Henry Cavill x F!Reader
3,160 Words
Warnings: Nothing but romance and magic and fluff and mystery!
A/N: Yes, it's me. No, I have not been kidnapped. This was written in part for my personal goal of branching out a bit, but moreover as a Valentine's gift for @mariekoukie6661 and @kittenofdoomage <3
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Her dress was sleek and as dark as midnight; her heels were high and deadly. Her lips dripped with crimson; a silver mask hid beautifully sad and strikingly painted eyes.
She kept to the edges of the ballroom, ducking behind round tables clad in expensive linens and gold inlaid china, skirting billowing gowns as they spun on the dancefloor. She slipped in and out of the shadows with a slowly emptying champagne glass pinched delicately between two fingers.
Despite her annoyance in being there, she could not deny the beauty of the night. The massive room was decorated in glamorous gold and pearl accents. Heavy velvet curtains hung over the windows on each wall, letting in a glimpse of the moonlit garden outside. The floors were marble that had been polished to perfection, and a warm candlelight glow illuminated the room.
It felt as if she’d stepped into a fairy tale.
A fairy tale about a sad girl watching the party from afar, alone but for the bubbles in her glass.
Which, sadly, were now gone.
Y/N sighed heavily and looked across the dancefloor at the long bar that stretched across the back wall of the ballroom. A hundred guests in suits and gowns, feathers and masks, twirled in front of her, blocking the path. Silently, she weighed the pain of entering the waltzing throng over going another moment without a healthy buzz in her head. She took a breath. She took a step.
Her heels clicked rhythmically as she laid her course for the bar. She kept her eyes on the goal, carefully maneuvering through the dancing couples, wondering if they’d all been to some class she hadn’t been invited to. All their steps seemed identical; all the women spun with the same flourish. She shook her head. Life should never be so choreographed.
After nearly tripping over a dragging tail of taffeta, Y/N finally made it to the bar and braced herself on the top. As she caught her breath, a deep but soft laugh hit her ear.
She turned toward the sound and spied a large man leaning on the bar a few feet away. He turned as she did, leaning one elbow on the bartop and kicking a long leg over the other. His tuxedo was immaculate and perfectly tailored; his shoes shined like the stones below. He wore a mask of black with silver adornment, and two crisp blue eyes scanned her form from beneath. She could feel them sneak down her body, lingering a bit in the deep curve of her waist and at the globe of her ass.
She cleared her throat, drawing his eyes up to hers.
“Something funny, Slick?” she asked, lips pursed in clear annoyance.
The man grinned. His lips were full and pink beneath a thin scruff of a beard.
“I liked your dance,” he said in reply.
She was startled by his accent - elegant and somehow too perfectly English, as if he were pretending to be from across the Atlantic. She bit her lip and narrowed her eyes at him, trying to figure him out.
It was nearly impossible. The masks were a problem.
Y/N rolled her eyes. She didn’t know why, but she felt that he needed to work a little harder to get her attention. Maybe she was bored, maybe the shock of his voice had her aflutter. Whatever it was, she turned up the sass.
“Yeah, well, I was a ballerina in a past life.”
Again, he laughed. A little louder, a little more enticing.
“I can see that. Prima ballerinas often trip over themselves and end up slamming into tables.”
She bit back a laugh and turned back to meet his gaze. “We take a special class for that.”
The man cocked his head towards her champagne flute. “And with an empty glass, no less.”
“What can I say, I’m very good at my job.”
Slowly, he pushed himself up from the bar and took a step closer. “May I buy you another?”
Her eyes slid up from his shoes to the loose, curly mop of black hair atop his head. He was tall and broad, and looked as solid as a statue. Her pulse quickened.
“I’m pretty sure it’s free,” she teased.
He stopped a foot from her side. “Still…” With a quick snap of his fingers, he called for the bartender and ordered them both another round.
“A dirty martini, Mr. Bond?” She smiled at his order.
“Shaken, not stirred,” he replied, lifting his glass.
His smile was as intoxicating as the golden liquid in her glass and butterflies swirled in her stomach.
Each took a sip, swallowing slowly with their eyes locked. The blue crashed over her and Y/N lost herself in the sparkle of his smiling gaze.
Worried that she was staring too hard, she tore herself away and let out a hard breath.
“So… how do you know the bride?” she asked, trying to pry his identity free.
He licked a drop of vodka from his lip. “I don’t.”
She laughed gently. “Wedding crasher, huh?” She leaned closer, dropped her voice to a whisper. “Don’t worry, I won’t turn you in.”
He moved in even closer. A warm scent pulsed off of him, flooding her senses with leather and vanilla and something she couldn’t place. Something spicy that made her mouth water so much she forgot that she was supposed to be playing hard to get.
“That’s kind of you,” he whispered. “I don’t think Charlie will press charges though.”
She smiled. “Ah, you’re on the groom’s side.”
“And you?”
His eyes fell to her lips and Y/N’s cheeks burned.
“I, uh… I work with Chloe, the- the bride.”
He nodded and took a sip of his drink. “Charlie and Chloe,” he said with a light laugh. “So many Cs.”
He was too cool, too confident yet sweet. She almost hated him.
“Who are you?” she asked, confused and irked. She had not come to the wedding to meet anyone, let alone a gorgeous, blue-eyed Brit, who may or may not actually be British.
Another slow sip guided her eyes back to his lips and she wondered if he tasted as good as he smelled.
“Henry,” he said softly.
She laughed. “Of course you are.”
“Why’s that funny?”
“Because of course your name is Henry. With your perfect accent and your sexy tuxedo…”
He stood up, suddenly towering over her, and tipped his head, eyes swiping over her again.
“And what about you? You’ve got to be called Celeste or Audrey or something classic and elegant.”
Y/N drained the rest of the champagne at the bottom of her glass and stood to face him properly. “Well, Prince Charming, why don’t you just call me Cinderella.”
Henry reached for her hand and she gave it jokingly.
His kiss was no joke, landing softly on her skin and making the rest of her shiver. She held her breath and nearly fainted when he looked up.
“Pleased to meet you, Cinderella.”
Her head swam a bit and she wondered if that was what swooning was.
“Charmed,” she said with a dreamy smile.
He held her gaze, swept a warm thumb over her knuckles. His touch was like fire and she wanted to run. Away from him or into his arms - she couldn’t decide. All she knew was that there was magic in the air and she could not seem to tear herself away from the mystery of his face. His eyes were tragically beautiful, as if she was lost at sea on a broken raft, thirsting and alone, but she had the comfort of the blue waves to keep her safe. She thought herself insane. He was just a man in a mask at a fancy wedding. Just a tall, impossibly fit, perfectly dressed man at a masquerade ball. A deliciously gorgeous man who smelled like drinking in front of a roaring fire in a cozy library filled with old books in some ancient castle in Scotland. A man who was still holding her hand and her gaze, stealing too many moments and breaths from her day.
Y/N shook herself and pulled her hand from his.
“I should… go…” She turned toward the room. She had to get away, had to free herself from the captivating stranger and return to ignoring her coworkers and the bride’s overly friendly family. “It was nice to meet you, Henry.”
His frown nearly cracked the earth beneath her feet.
“Don’t leave just yet,” he pleaded. “I… Well, I don’t really know anyone here and you’re…”
She looked back over her shoulder as he hesitated. “Yes?”
He blushed and sought comfort in his shoes. Such a beautiful sight: a strong, confident man instantly melting into shyness.
Blue eyes looked up. “Beautiful and enchanting and… I was hoping that we could dance.”
She nearly fell over, knocked out by his voice and charm. A quick breath steeled her nerves. “Sadly, I cannot.”
He stood up fully but somehow still seemed small. “Dance with me?”
“Dance at all,” she corrected.
He laughed. “Well, how about another drink and some conversation?”
With a sigh, Y/N looked back at the crowd, into the sea of indistinguishable masks and unfamiliar forms. Giving in, she nodded politely and spun around to the bar.
They ordered another round and took up residence at the end of the counter, half hidden in shadow, invisible to the other party-goers. Music soared above their heads but they could barely hear it, so engrossed in each other’s stories.
They spoke of simple things- movies they’d loved as children and that well-worn paperbacks were still tucked into their bookcases. She asked him about home and he talked about the London traffic and how he preferred to stay around the house on rainy days playing games on his PC. He poked her about work and she glossed over her job, insisting that they keep the conversation light and free from day-to-day struggles. They drank and laughed and fell even deeper into each other’s gaze.
It was strange to have a conversation with a stranger in a mask. She knew that he was handsome- his eyes were brilliant, his lips perfectly plump. His jaw was tight and his neck was thick. He was big and sturdy, yet gentle and bashful. Though most of his face was hidden, she knew he was perfect.
Perhaps a little too perfect.
But as the alcohol flowed and the night wore on, Y/N couldn’t find a reason anymore to run. The night had cast a spell around them and there was no escape. There was magic in the gilded accents around the room, in the symphony of violins that danced above their heads, in their true smiles and tentative touches.
Even if he wasn’t perfect, she thought, the moment was.
And the moment was suddenly broken.
A firm hand on her wrist dragged Y/N from her place at the bar and onto the dancefloor. The bride would not be ignored and refused to take no for an answer. Pained by the intrusion and the demand, Y/N reluctantly took Chloe’s hands and twirled her around. The skirt of the massive wedding dress billowed like a cloud around Chloe’s small frame and Y/N laughed as she was nearly caught up in the fabric.
Heart racing and smile wide, she turned back to Henry but was shocked to find his place empty. Their glasses sat abandoned on the bar and Prince Charming was nowhere to be found. She felt a tug in her chest and a dampness behind her eyes.
Before she could shrug it off as just a random encounter and push his blue eyes from her mind, a tap on the shoulder made her gasp.
She spun on the spot and found him there with a sweet smile and open arms.
“May I have this dance?” he asked, dipping into half a bow.
Excitement rushed through her and Y/N bit her lip. “I told you, I’m not a good dancer.”
Unwilling to let her back away, Henry scooped her up and held her close, one hand capturing hers and the other pressing gently into the small of her back. He leaned in and teased his lips at her ear.
“Then let me lead…”
His fingers pulsed against her back, guiding her to move against him. They turned a few times until she was dizzy in his arms, laughing as he whispered into her ear:
“Left… right… back… you’ve got it…”
His breath on her skin was like a gust of summer air, warm and delicious, flooding her body with calm.
“See? You’re not too bad at this.”
Y/N looked up into his eyes and felt the world fade away. They rose up together off of the dancefloor, floating gently above the other guests, impossibly alone in the crowd. She knew she was drunk, knew she’d pay for it in the morning, but she didn’t really care. She didn’t care that her friends were watching, probably whispering about the mysterious man she was dancing with. She didn’t care that she’d twice stepped on his toes or that there was no way she could hide the fact that being so close to him wasn’t turning her into a melted, lustful shell of what she usually was.
The music crescendoed and Y/N held her breath. Henry dipped his chin, blue eyes locked on her hers. The world slowed down, the seconds stretched on forever. She closed her eyes, savored his exhale against her lips. His hand slid gently up her back, fingers wove through her hair. She felt her legs grow weak, her stomach tensed, her heart skipped. He took a breath.
The band stopped short and Y/N startled as the crowd shited. The moment was gone, ripped away once more by the party swelling around them.
A rush of silk; the click of hundreds of heels. Cheers rose throughout the room as a giant cake was rolled out onto the dancefloor. It towered up to the ceiling with beautiful rows of white creme roses and pearls strategically placed to make the fondant glow in the warm light trickling down from the chandelier above.
As the guests closed in, Y/N was pulled out of Henry’s arms and her heart ached as he once again was out of her sight.
Black suits swarmed around her, heavy gowns brushed against her legs. Voices rang loud. Bodies closed in on all sides.
Breathless, she spun, searching for an exit, for a way to push through the throng.
A hand appeared and reached for her. She clasped his fingers and Henry raced toward the big doors to their left, pulling her free of the mob.
They tumbled out into the cool air and found relief as the doors closed behind them, blocking the music and the excitement, leaving them alone in the night.
The garden was dark but magically aglow with warm, golden light. Fairy lights twinkled around them, strung from bushes and topiaries, highlighting a stone path. Beyond, a labyrinth of tall evergreen waited for curious souls to venture inside, daring the branches to keep them from reaching the end.
Wonderstruck by the evening- the dramatic escape, the music, the champagne and Henry’s crystalline eyes- she stumbled. One single step turned her ankle and the deadly heels she never wore took her down.
Her gasp tore through the garden, but Henry was there to catch her fall. She swung in his strong arms and her fear turned to laughter.
“This is just absurd!” she said, steadying herself with a palm over his chest.
Henry was calm and stable, easily holding her upright. “What’s that?”
“I mean… You literally just swept me off of my feet.” She shook her head and with a blushing smile, pushed away. “This is getting silly.”
Away from his grasp, she teetered again and Henry took her hand before disaster could strike.
“Why don’t you sit down for a moment,” he suggested, nodding towards a stone bench not far away. “Those shoes are dangerous.”
“You have no idea.”
She let him help her to the bench and watched in awe as he fell to one knee. Like an actual Prince Charming, he took Cinderella’s ankle in his hands and gently ran his fingers over the thin strap holding the shoe in place.
“You’re not swollen,” he reported. “That’s good.”
When he looked up, concern fading from his eyes, she gave up trying to suppress the enchantment of the night and took a deep breath.
Hands cupped around his face, she leaned in and finally met his lips.
Startled but delighted, Henry pushed up to meet her, taking her once more in his strong arms and kissing her properly.
Tiny lights flickered in the breeze, soft music seeped out into the garden, and Prince Charming and Cinderella found each other in the dark. Lips hungry and hands wild; heat mixing between them like a budding fire.
When the clock struck twelve, it chimed loudly and they broke apart, laughing.
“Seems about right,” she joked, looking towards the wedding. “Party ends at midnight.”
Henry dragged a thick finger over her collarbone. “Does that mean you’ll turn into a pumpkin and disappear?”
She laughed softly. “I don’t know when the last time you read Cinderella was, but… no.”
He licked her taste from his lip. “So you don’t need to go then?”
Her smile fell. “I do…”
“You could stay…” He dipped his chin and looked up through the mask, blue eyes dark in the light. “We could… find a spot-”
Y/N shook her head and reached for his hand. “I can’t, I’m sorry. I have to be back in the city tomorrow for work.” She lifted his fingers to her lips and left him with a final kiss.
Henry sighed. “Pity.”
She nodded and gathered her strength to stand and do what she should have done hours ago- run. Except this time, she was certain she meant it to be into his arms. Only this time, she couldn’t.
“I’m sorry…”
Quickly, she turned, carefully stepping back onto the stone path and away from the mystery man with his intoxicating voice and perfectly engrossing kiss.
He stood and called to her, desperate for one more look at his Cinderella.
“Wait-”
She paused, hand on the big glass door, heart in her throat. “Yes?”
“Don’t I even get to know your real name?”
She looked over her shoulder and smiled. “It’s Y/N.”
Henry bowed his head in thanks and when he came up, the mask came off, slowly revealing a face she’d only imagined in her dreams.
He blushed at her shocked stare and laughed gently.
“It was nice to meet you, Y/N.”
She sighed, blissful and lost in a dream that she prayed would last the rest of her life.
“You too…”
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pixeechix21 · 1 year ago
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Halloween Hunt
ghostface x fem!reader
TW: knife play, primal, mask kink, chasing, rough sex, vulgar words, choking, blood play (v. minor dw), smut, alcohol mentioning, unprotected, p in v, scare/fear kink, hunted, v. rough
WC:1461
Pt2
Halloween night:
The pink bag stares at you, laying on your duvet covers. Your foot is nervously going up and down. you r at a safe distance watching it you hadn’t opened it yet, too scared to do it. Come on y/n just do it, like it's going to be Jason’s hand or head. Wait, could it? You urge yourself to open the delicate pink bag. It’d be best to open it just to make sure it’s not, you go on. Then you go for it knowing you’d just spiral in your own thoughts. The tissue paper is put to the side and inside the bag you pull out a beautiful silk and lace pink dress. It was smooth as you put it on your body. Trying it on it fit perfectly, almost as if it was tailored just for your body.
If I was going to be his princess I’ll show him just how much I can be. You rummage through your messy dorm and combine random pieces to make your costume whole: white sparkly heels, fairy wings, and a tiara. “Wow! You look like a magical fairy princess queen!” your bestie exclaims barging into your room, leaving the door open. 
You twirl happily, “thank you… what are you meant to be?” You look at her slip-dress with the picture of some old white man. 
“A Freudian slip,” my dorm neighbor stops in the hallway. Both of us look stunned at the intrusion of the stranger. “Oh my god! That’s right!” your friend claps happily. 
You both leave your room passing the bottle back and forth heading to Devin’s frat house on the edge of the campus. 
Once you get there you’re on alert suddenly remembering the game. A couple bros try to feel you up as you’re both dancing in the sweaty crowd. Sheila pushes them off shouting, “trust me you didn’t need a mask you’re already scary and ugly normally,” you laugh together, watching not to spill your drinks. 
You feel disappointed not having spotted him yet. The anticipation building. You forget how many hours pass but then everything changes. You're feeling hot and shout to your friend that you need air. Stumbling and pushing past the masses, you look up from your feet. You almost shit yourself at him standing there looking at you. There is a small pose of girls surrounding him, but he looks only at you and you can just imagine him smiling devilishly. Those girls don’t even know what their fucking with. 
You reach outside, puffing out a breath of steamy air. The game is on, he spotted you. You need to run, to hide, don’t get caught. Looking left and right you sprint straight to the edge of campus and out into the woods, following the path. Thank God for the years of pageant training and running from the cops in unstable shoes. 
Footsteps are following you, determined. Your arms are swinging and your legs are burning as you run as fast as you can. The cold nipped at your face, causing the whipping of the branches to sting ferociously. You turn left abruptly and hide behind a large oak tree. This time it’s your own hand gripping your mouth shut, so he can’t hear you. The footsteps slow down, he’s searching for you. 
“Aww I was having so much fun,” he complains, “I won't hurt you I swear. Well not unless you beg for it,” he says out into the dark. He slowly passes you, and you see the back of him, thinking you're safe. You hold a nearby stick and lunge out of your hiding place, screaming. You're on top of him bringing down your stick. He catches your hand and you release it from the pain. He flips both of you over, his hand holding both of yours over your head. “You’re so pretty when you’re angry,” he says, trailing his knife down the side of your face, following your jawline, finishing with the point tilting your heads to look up at him. “You stole my coffee asshole!” you bite out. His chuckle is endearing. As he comes close to your face you wish you could see his eyes, or even his smile. 
You struggle under him as the cold sets in. Your chest rises and falls in shallow breaths as his knife touches your thong. You clench in anticipation, you can hear his breaths rapidly and the feeling of his hands holding you tightly. His hand feels your wetness through the thin layer. He starts ever so delicately circling your clit, making your hips push up to meet his fingers. He lets go of your hands and pushes your hips back down to the floor. “You have to be good if you want it,” he says gruffly, shaking his head. The torture goes on to the point where your stubbornness breaks down, “ple- fuck- please mr.gohstface,” you writhe desperately. 
“Say it louder,” he palms your clit harder, almost pushing to the edge.
“Please! I’m about to-” you shudder as you're blinded by your orgasm. His fingers continue working relentlessly, and you nearly cry as you come again. Taking out his fingers you sigh sadly not wanting it to be finished. 
“Open your mouth,” he demands, and you can feel his hardness pressing into your dripping cunt. You do as you're told and he puts two fingers in, you look up at him and suck them lightly. “You make a man go insane, you know that?” He says hungrily as he looks at his fingers being drawn out of your mouth.
 Longing for more, your hands grab his belt buckle and undo them. Your cold hands feel his cock, and he tenses his abs. He’s on knees and you sit up so that you’re face to face with him hard on. Working your hand up and down you give quick kisses through his boxers. Taking his dick out of the boxes lick the precum coming from the slit, dragging it gradually all the way across. He tosses his head back, trying to control himself as you go at your own pace. Your lips surround him and instantly his hand grips your head. You bob your head up and down, twirling your tongue tantalizing. You feel him grow harder and you pick to the pace. “Shit, just like that,” he groans out. Just as he is about to come, yanks your head back so that you look up at him, mouth open gasping for air. 
“Turn around on your knees,” he releases you and you turn over, your ass up. Normally you’d be self-conscious, but strangely you feel safe with him. “A fucking masterpiece,” he admires cutting off your panties with his knife point, skillfully. Everso slowly you stretch painfully as he puts in his tip. You moan feeling yourself become whole, fulfilled. Once his hips touch your ass you feel tears forming. Dragging himself out slowly back in the friction kills you. You try to ask for him to go faster, rougher, just more. He takes your hair and whispers, “say it. Tell me what you want, I'm at your command.”
 “More. Now.”
 “Anything for you princess,” and immediately his fingers dig into you and he slams into you. You yelp at the sudden movement. He goes on unrelentingly, your knees scrapping on the forest floor. You can hear him grunting with the impact. Your crying at the forces as you orgasms comes over you. “Fuck y/n,” he moans as you milk him. He grabs your hair once more, you arch your back more and he hits you. Lifted up, your head rests on his shoulder and his knife comes to your neck. You smile at the feeling of the horror and thrill coursing through you like an aphrodisiac. “Look at me as I come in you,” he bites out, fucking you to oblivion. He tenses and you feel him coming to you. He releases you and you fall to your hands. He takes out his dick and watches amusedly as his cum comes out of you. You sigh as he takes his fingers and pushes it back into you. 
“Go before I do something I shouldn’t.” he warns.
You run.
A month later:
You haven’t forgotten that night and every now and then you think you see those tattoos or hear his voice. You were sure you were crazy when during your first lecture on business psychology you saw him bent over talking to the seated professor. You know it’s him, just know it. He looks up as he goes on to walk away. Frozen like a statue, you gape as he walks to his seat in the far corner. Smiling knowingly, and winks placing a coffee cup on your seat desk.
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muldermuse · 1 year ago
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Plus One (Fox Mulder X Reader)
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This is based on an ask I recieved <333 thank u for sending it through
Scully is unable to attend an event so Fox asks you to be his plus one.
“It means a lot that you’re coming tonight, I’ll uh- I’ll pick you up at your apartment at 6? Have a chat about the mission in the car and then go from there…I’m looking forward to seeing you…Scully said your dress looks good and you know that she knows more about that stuff than me *laughs*. Um, okay well this is a long voicemail so uh-right, I’ll see you in a few hours. Oh! This is Fox by the way.”
It definitely was not your usual practice to have a glass of red wine before getting ready for a mission but you had to admit that you felt nervous about tonight.  It was standard for Mulder and Scully to do something like this. To get intel about a case, they’d dress up and rub shoulders with people unknowingly involved in an X File. Sometimes they’d pose as a couple and other times they would pose as two singles trying to seek out a partner for the evening. They would collect as much intel as possible and within the following weeks; the case would undoubtedly be solved.
This was a huge case so Scully was in another state, sleeping in her car to avoid the bed bug-ridden motel that Skinner had put her up in. Fox was too nervous to ask you so you got a call from Scully late last night. The key contact Fox had been trying to speak to about this case was attending a Gala in Washington. The contact was old school, any guest to the Gala had to have a date for the evening, and of course; it was a black tie event. You were reluctant and Scully knew you would be. “Listen, if you want to fly out and take my place in this crappy rental car, which stinks of fries for some reason- I would thank you for it. But, you’ll have a great time and I know you have that black dress that you’re looking for an excuse to wear…”.
So here you are, pouring a large glass of red wine and listening to the Spice Girls as you try to focus all your nervous energy into applying your make up and curling your hair. You slip your dress on at quarter to 5. The dress was expensive and it looks it. It’s black and shimmering under the fairy lights strung over your bookshelf. It’s hugging your curves, it’s hiding any insecurities and you have to admit- you look amazing. The remaining wine in the glass slides down your throat and gives a final rush of adrenaline. Fox knocks at the door at exactly 6 o’clock.
***
He's wearing his glasses. That’s the first thing that you recognize. Not the bouquet of flowers tightly clutched in his fist, not the perfectly tailored suit or the nervous expression covering his face.
“You’re wearing glasses, I’ve never seen you wear them outside of the office.” You smile at him and he smiles back but he seems distracted. He doesn’t reply for a few seconds and as the awkward energy fills the air; he thrusts the flowers towards your hands.
“Yeah, I think they make me look smarter” He awkwardly laughs. “These are for you...obviously…you usually have peonies at your desk on special occasions so I thought you’d like them.”
“They’re beautiful, I didn’t realise that you noticed stuff like that. Maybe you’re a better agent than I suspected Fox” you wink as you go back into your apartment and place the flowers in the sink with some water. You take the moment with the faucet running to compose yourself.
God.
He looks so fucking good.
The nerves that have slowly dissipated over the past hour are suddenly back without warning. He looks so good- do you look alright? Oh god, are you not dressed up enough? Does he think you look okay? I bet he wishes that Scully was here right now, you could potentially jeopardise this entire case and you know how hard they’re both working on it.
You’re too lost in your own thoughts to hear Fox cross the room and place a warm hand against your lower back. The tension zapping through your body streams out with a deep exhale.
“I have a car waiting downstairs, we should probably go”. He holds his arm out for you with a grin and he guides you downstairs. He holds the car door open for you. Whilst you have a moment alone; you whisper to yourself an affirmation that tonight will go well.
You have no idea that Fox is doing the same thing.
***
Fox has liked you for a while and he suspects that this occasion is all Scully’s doing. There was no real reason for her to travel to Wyoming, it was some anonymous call which Fox completely doubts the validity of.  When it comes to the X Files and his career, Fox is a ‘do-er.’ He wants to get out there, prove the importance of his work and save lives.
However, when it comes to his relationships. At the minute, Fox is less active.
The moment he saw you smiling; you had never been far from his thoughts. Scully struck up a friendship with you through a mutual love of the same sandwich served a local deli. Fox would sit in on your lunch dates together, he’d always try and make you laugh- feeling an immense sense of pride when he did.
Scully had disclosed to him her feelings on your boyfriend, Jason. You had so much love to give and he seemed to be the opposite. Closed off and cold. Scully told Fox you’d been arguing more and were getting close to breaking up. When you did, Fox watched from afar as your usual bright smile never reached your eyes.
***
The car ride is filled with idle chat. The tension in the air seems to mount as you both try desperately to ignore it. Fox tells you about the Gala and what to expect. It’s more of an occasion to scope out the group rather than to gather intel on a specific target.
You don’t realise that as the car drives closer to your destination that your knee begins to bounce and your fingers fidget with the tassle on your handbag. Fox rests his hand on your knee and his thumb rubs calming small circles on your soft skin.
“You look amazing, thanks again for doing this.”
Before you can thank him or compliment him back, the car pulls to a stop and the door opens.
***
The room is grand and glamourous. It’s a decadent affair with rich red velvet curtains and carpets decorating each room. The different perfumes and aftershaves blend together to create a sweet floral scent that lingers as every person passes. It’s a crowd of black tuxedos and billowing ballgowns, everyone smiling politely with a clear hint of judgement to every passerby. The sound of the band is lost over the exchanging of pleasantries and the distinctive pop of champagne corks, followed by a polite cheer.
It's completely unlike anywhere else you have ever been or anywhere you are likely to ever go.
“I think I’m the poorest person in here by about three million dollars, Fox”
“Oh no, it’ll be way more than that,” Fox says with a wink as he hands you a glass of champagne. He moves in close enough to whisper to you and you try to ignore the sensation of his breath fanning your neck.
“See that guy over there with the red suit, he has a huge interest in extraterrestrials. It’s massive so much so that he spends around five and a half million dollars a year trying to prove they’re real. He’s got that much money it’s basically a game.”
The bubbles of champagne trickle down your throat as you move closer into Fox’s hold. He holds your waist and rotates you to look at another corner of the room. His breath remains hot on your neck and you’re not sure if it’s the alcohol coursing through your veins or his presence that is making your head feel fuzzy.
“That lady over there with the huge hat, like, ridiculously big hat.” You nod at Fox without taking your eyes off her. “The Lone Gunman guys suspect that she gets all her money from selling UFOs that crash, on the black market. She only leaves her guarded house three times a year and this is one of the occasions.”
“Suspect? So it could be something completely different.” You smirk up at Fox, he grabs another two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and hands one to you. “Who knows, maybe she makes her money selling really big hats.”
“Or maybe, the reason her hat is so big is because it’s broadcasting a message to a UFO flying over Washington”. His grin matches yours.
You clink the glasses together and without the other knowing, both of you acknowledge the butterflies fluttering in your stomachs.
***
Neither of you speak to anyone else, you find a quiet corner tucked away in the hall room and chat. You sip on a glass of wine and Fox holds a tumbler of whiskey but both drinks go warm as you get lose in the conversation with each other.
It dawns on you that before tonight, you’ve never really spoken to Fox as it’s usually a group environment or a passing hi-goodbye as you both make your way home at the end of the day.
He tells you about his family, he tells you about his favourite cases and more importantly than all of the things he’s saying to you- he’s present with you the entire time. Conversations with your ex were one sided and that was something that took months to admit. You realized your relationship with Jason was over during a conversation. You’d just got the promotion that you’d spent months working on and he asked one simple question that felt like a knife to your pumping heart.
“When were you going to tell me about that promotion?”
You had told him; of course you had. You’d told him when you first heard about it, you’d told him the planning you’d spent weeks organizing and you told him the morning of the interview.
He hadn’t heard any of it.
You’d been together over a year. You had met each other’s family, met each other’s friends, you’d fallen in love and within that conversation; you realized how far from love you both had fallen.
The big band music was gradually playing louder and louder. You’d both been straining to shout over it to keep the conversation going. Eventually, you realized a way you would be able to hear Fox better, you grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the dance floor.
***
The music was soft, flowing through the air as the lights began to dim slowly and the illuminated table decorations filled in the dark spaces. You placed your arms around Fox’s shoulders as his large hands slid down to your waist. Your heart was beating the steadiest that it had all night.
“How did you know about the peonies? I’ve never told you or Scully about that.” Your hands remained interlocked around his neck as you fought the urge to run your fingers through his hair.
“Well, I know your birthday and you had peonies on that date. When you got that promotion, you had peonies, and when uh…yeah, you have peonies.” A nervous look flashes across his face. You know what he was going to say.
“When I broke up with Jason, someone in the office got me peonies and left them on my desk. It was the only thing that made me smile that week”. The memory still makes you emotional, the week was relentless sleepless nights and non-stop crying. On the last day of the week, there was a gorgeous bunch of peonies in a vase on your desk. No note, no name- nothing.
His hands tighten around your waist as he rests his forehead against yours, “I’m glad you liked them…it was hard to see you look so sad”.
Of course it was him.
It always was.
It always is.
Before you can carry on speaking or stop the tears trying to fill your eyes. He tilts your chin to meet your eyeline with his thumb and forefinger.
“I don’t think I’ve told you how beautiful you look tonight or thanked you for this…I mean thanked you properly."
You place your head against his chest and wrap your arms around his waist, continuing to sway to the music; you hear him take a breath before carrying on.
"I've liked you for a while and god, does that sound childish to say. This means a lot to me and you being here means even more. I'd like to take you out, I can't always promise it will be this fancy...actually, I can guarantee it never will be but I want to spend time with you. In any setting, I possibly can."
He doesn't look at you and you don't look at him. It felt like a confession he needed to make but perhaps didn't have the confidence to say it to your face. Which is amazing to you because Fox Mulder doesn't strike you as someone who struggles with anxieties.
"I think this place is a bit too fancy for me, maybe we can chat more at the 24 hour diner near my apartment? I think we'll look a bit different from the usual patrons" You gesture at your black gown and his tuxedo. He smiles as he takes your hand and leads you to the exit.
Before you get back into the car, you press a kiss to his lips and thank him for the evening. For the entire journey to the diner; you hold each other's hands tightly.
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