#Soft kiss and a hot cup of coffee in the morning my beloved

[kakusu-shipping]

For the domestic hc asks: 10, 15, 20 for mariocest?

Anon I mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah Love you thankyou SO much for the ask

Asks from Here

10. What do they do when the other is away?

Keep busy mostly. Luigi does a lot of house work when Mario's off on adventures, and Mario takes any odd job he can get ahold of when Luigi travels.

Luigi handles his alone time a lot better than Mario. Mario gets a lot more fidgety when left to his own devices, anxious and depressed all on his own. If he can't find something to work on or do to be helpful he tends to just. Sleep a lot. Order pizza and sleep in.

He doesn't like it when Luigi's away.

15. What do they do when their partner is sick?

I think the Mario Bros both have stupid strong immune systems. The kinda guys who've only been "can't leave the house" levels of sick twice in their lives.

If Luigi's sick, Mario joins him in a lock down, only leaving the house to grab any prescription Luigi might need. He orders in Pizza and sets himself and Luigi up on the couch with blankets and tissues and whatever else he might need. He won't leave his brother's side for more then 5 minutes at a time.

If Mario's sick, Luigi has to physically fight him for the rights to take care of him. Mario does not take sick days. Luigi spends a lot of Mario's sick day just fighting him to lay down, take his medicine, stay still, just relax Bro. The easiest part of the process is getting him to eat at least. No stomach bug could keep Mario from a homemade Luigi meal.

Most likely though they'd be sick at the same time and need someone else to take care of them both. Keeping a Sick Mario from taking care of Sick Luigi would be a job all on it's own.

20. What is the first thing they say/do in the morning?

Mario is not a morning person.

Luigi is though. Loves to wake up in the morning. Loves to wake Mario up with a soft kiss and a hot mug of coffee. Loves to grab a shower right after waking up.

Mario in return, after lazing in bed with his mug, makes himself and Luigi breakfast. Something sweet like waffles with enough syrup to drown an elephant for Luigi, and something lighter like a banana sandwich for himself. Unless he has nothing to do that day, then he's making some breakfast meat. Sausage and Country Ham and Biscuits and Gravy.

[unpredictable-probabilities]

A Dip Into Comfort

Summary:

After a long week at work, Hob finds that Dream has prepared a surprise for him.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2,551

Square/Prompt: A2 - Bathroom Sex | @dreamlingbingo

Ship(s): Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling

Additional Tags: Bathing/Washing, Bathroom Sex, Bath Sex, Bathtub Sex, Bubble Bath, Bathtubs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Coming Untouched, Comfort, Fluff, Sweet, Sweet/Hot, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Smut, Fluff and Smut, Domestic Fluff, Domestic, Domestic Boyfriends, Pampering

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56909119

---

Hob all but stumbled out of the bus as soon as the doors opened. It was finally Friday, and he could go spend the night eating pastries on his couch while watching bake-offs, or immediately pass out and sleep for 40 hours. He hadn't decided yet.

The past week had been a series of late nights preparing exams and early mornings of faculty meetings that really should have just been emails. It was that time of the semester again where it felt like the entire university was busy, and at this point Hob was pretty sure he was looking forward to summer vacation even more than his students were.

He made the short walk from the bus stop to his flat, trudging up the front steps and yawning as he unlocked the door.

He was planning on collapsing on the couch, but he stepped into his living room and saw that someone was already in it, carefully arranging a plate of croissants and chocolate éclairs on the coffee table.

“Dream?” Hob was suddenly wide awake. “It's not date night, right? Oh my god, did I forget—”

“Hob.” Dream's voice was soothing and his expression soft as he gracefully stood up and walked towards Hob. “You did not forget anything.” He cupped Hob’s face in his hand and kissed him, a gentle press of their lips. “Welcome home, beloved,” a smile lifted the corners of his mouth.

He helped Hob out of his jacket, hanging it on the coat rack by the wall, then took Hob’s bag from him and placed it on the couch.

Hob followed, still unsure of what was happening but certainly not complaining. “Is there a special occasion somehow? A holiday in The Dreaming?” They had been dating for a few months already, but Hob had never come home to Dream waiting in his flat before.

“No,” Dream replied as he sat back down. “I merely saw your daydreams while you were on the bus. They were quite vivid.”

“So you came here and waited for me?” Hob felt warmth bloom in his chest at that. He took a seat next to Dream and looked at the food on the coffee table. “And where did these come from? Can we eat dreamstuff?”

Dream gave him a smile of fond amusement. “These are not from the Dreaming. I ordered them from your preferred coffee shop, using the phone you gave me.”

Hob’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “I didn’t think you’d know how to do that.”

“I did not. But it was easy enough to reach into certain dreams and learn how. Carl brought the food again, the young man from last week. He handed me a coupon and said that our next order from them would have a 10% discount.”

Hob saw the coupon on the coffee table and looked back at Dream. “Did you see his daydreams while you two were talking?”

Carl was not the most subtle of delivery men. Hob was the one who usually received food orders whenever there was a new dessert he wanted Dream to try, but there was a time last month when he had been washing the dishes when their order arrived, and Dream had opened the door before Hob could say anything. Carl had looked like he nearly swallowed his own tongue, his cheekbones pink as he tried to tell Dream how much the food was. Hob had rushed over and paid before the poor lad fainted on their doorstep.

Dream tilted his head just slightly. “How would you know whether he had daydreams?”

“Love, I don’t need mind-reading powers to notice that he’s always the one delivering our food now ever since he saw you for the first time,” Hob playfully pointed out.

“Regardless, this night is about you.” Dream was looking at him so intently that Hob felt his face warm. “Would you still like to eat first? Or sleep already? I can make you sleep whenever you wish and ensure you only have the sweetest dreams. Or no dreams at all, if you would prefer that.”

Hob reached for the back of Dream’s neck and pulled him in for another kiss, lingering longer this time. “I had no idea you were so sweet,” he teased after pulling away.

“I learned from the best,” Dream said easily, his eyes twinkling, and Hob didn’t bother to hide his grin. “Which one shall it be? A dreamless sleep?”

“Oh, I don’t think I’d ever want to be Dream-less.”

Dream rolled his eyes—a gesture he had learned from Hob—but Hob could see the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Dream always looked adorable when he was pretending to be exasperated at Hob’s terrible puns, which was why Hob continued to make them.

“And I might like a hot shower first, actually. It’s been cold all day.”

Dream nodded once. “Then let me draw you a bath.” He stood up and took Hob’s hand, gently leading him to the bathroom.  

“A bath?” Hob blinked.

As soon as Dream opened the door, Hob heard the tap running and noticed a pleasant scent in the air.

The bathtub was filling up with soapy water, suds covering the entire surface, along with…

“Are these rose petals?” Hob said in surprise, turning to Dream.

“A lot of humans seem to think that a warm bath with scented oils and flowers is agreeable after a particularly tiring day,” Dream said hesitantly. “Do you object to this?” He began to raise his hand as if preparing to vanish the contents of the tub.

“No, no,” Hob said hurriedly, squeezing Dream's hand. “I was just surprised.” He glanced at the soapy pink water in the tub before turning back to Dream. “Join me?”

Dream furrowed his eyebrows. “I have no need for bathing.”

Hob smiled at him fondly. “I know. But I still wanna spend time with you.”

Dream looked surprised for a moment before his features softened. “Then allow me to help.” He leaned closer and kissed Hob, his hands reaching up to slowly undo the buttons on Hob’s shirt.

Hob swayed into the touch, unbuttoning Dream’s coat in turn. He felt Dream’s tongue sweep on his bottom lip, and in the next heartbeat they were both in the tub, fully soaked to the chest and without a stitch of clothing on either of them.

Once Hob’s senses have settled down from the sudden teleportation, he realised that he was leaning back against Dream. Their bare skins pressed together, Dream’s chest a cool contrast to the warm fragrant water.

The tap had turned off, so Hob heard clearly when Dream leaned forward and spoke in his ear.

“Will you allow me to take care of you, beloved?” His hands were already lathering shampoo in Hob's hair.

“You're spoiling me,” Hob sighed and melted against Dream, his eyes fluttering close at the feeling of Dream’s fingers on his scalp.

“As you deserve to be,” Dream murmured, and pulled away just enough to glide his hands down to the nape of Hob's neck and his shoulder blades, firmly kneading the tension out of the stiff muscles.

Hob let out a groan that he would have been embarrassed of, except Dream had never made him feel embarrassed of anything.

Dream's hands slowly went down Hob’s back, coaxing the soreness out inch by inch until Hob felt like he might fall asleep right there. And he must have for a minute or so, because when he woke up, Dream had the showerhead in his hand, holding it so that the hose didn't get in the way, and was beginning to rinse off Hob's hair, gently tipping his head back so no shampoo got in his eyes.

“Is this a good time to admit that I've fantasized about this in 1689?” Hob asked as Dream’s fingers were carding through his hair.

“It is unnecessary. I was aware of your daydreams then.”

“Oh? A shame you didn't act on it,” Hob said playfully.

“You were in a vulnerable position. I did not wish to take advantage.”

Hob’s eyebrows lifted in surprise and he turned around to face Dream as much as the bathtub would allow. “Wait, really?” 

The showerhead vanished from Dream’s hand and returned to its place on the hook on the wall. 

“You had lived on the streets a long time without a single kind touch. And I…” Dream’s eyes cast downward. “I was different. At the time. Greedy. If you had allowed me to touch your hair in the bath, I would have taken more. More than what you might have allowed had you not been in a desperate situation.” 

Hob felt dumbstruck; he had already been so grateful for the food and lodging that Dream provided for him that night, as well as the handful of coins. And now, knowing that Dream cared about him that much even back then… Hob just stared at him for several moments, unable to say anything.

Dream met his eyes again hesitantly, his shoulders tensing as if he was preparing for Hob to yell at him or kick him out.

“Love,” Hob rubbed Dream’s arm soothingly. “That's… Thank you, for that. I knew you were kind to me then, but I had no idea just how much.”

“It was the least I could have done. After everything that you had been through.”

Hob smiled. “You really are very sweet, you know? Also,” he pointed at Dream's chest accusingly. “Are you telling me we could have shagged over 3 centuries ago and you didn't say anything?”

Dream blinked at him in surprise. “I had just explained—”

“Well what about in 1789? I knew I wasn't imagining the look you gave me. You're saying I wanked myself to sleep that night when I could have had the real thing?” Hob barreled on. He had the right to, after hundreds of years of holding back.

“I was concerned for your safety.” Dream was evidently trying to suppress a smile and only partially succeeding. “Have I not made up for those times with our plentiful hours in bed as of late?” 

“I haven't decided yet. Might need to add in more hours to be sure.” Hob placed his hand flat on Dream's chest, feeling the heart under his palm that beat only for him.

Dream pulled him closer and planted a soft kiss on his neck. “I was under the impression that you wished to sleep already,” he whispered against Hob’s skin.

Hob felt himself flush, heat pooling low in his belly, and he shuffled around to face Dream properly. “There's lots of time to sleep. Later. I've got other things on my mind right now.”

“Oh I am quite aware of the things in your mind right now, Hob Gadling,” Dream rumbled quietly, his lips finding their way to the shell of Hob's ear.

Hob let out a shuddering exhale and turned his head to catch Dream’s lips in his.

Dream pulled Hob forward to sit on his lap, water sloshing out of the tub from the force. Hob grinded down on Dream's growing hardness under him, rubbing his own against Dream’s torso.

Dream moaned against his mouth, only making Hob’s blood run quicker south. “This is really what you want?” Dream asked breathlessly, his pupils blown wide. “You are not too tired for such activities?”

“I'd stay awake for a week if it means we get to do this now,” Hob’s voice sounded hoarse to his own ears. He gripped Dream’s hair and surged forward to kiss him again, his hips twitching forward when he felt Dream’s tongue sliding against his own.

Hob felt firm hands massage the flesh of his arse, and then a slender finger slick with soap teasing his rim. A shudder ran up his spine, and he moved encouragingly against Dream’s finger. His hands held either side of Dream’s face, keeping their mouths pressed together as if he needed it to breathe.

Dream finally took mercy on him and slipped his finger in, twisting him open and adding a second one.

“Fuck,” Hob gasped, leaning his forehead against Dream’s. “Yes. Right there.” He distantly wondered if he could come like this, riding Dream’s fingers while his cock rubbed up and down Dream’s body. But he wanted more, wanted what he knew Dream was more than willing to give.

“And you shall have it.” Dream added a third finger, spreading Hob open and brushing across his prostate.

“Dream,” Hob nearly sobbed, digging his blunt fingernails into Dream’s shoulders. “I'm ready. Please…”

Dream withdrew his fingers, and Hob’s whine at the sudden emptiness turned into a wail as Dream’s cock filled him.

Dream held Hob’s hips in place; his eyes had fluttered shut and shallow breaths were coming out of his parted lips, his cheeks flushed a ruddy red.

Hob’s chest was heaving, his cock impossibly hard, but he thought he could spend an eternity just staring at Dream like this, frozen in a moment's pleasure.

Then Dream started to move and all thoughts fled from Hob’s mind.

“Dream…” Hob’s voice wavered as he felt Dream slowly slide in and out of him.

Dream’s eyes had turned into galaxies. “My name sounds so sweet on your lips.”

 “Ah—!” Hob’s eyes rolled back in his head as Dream filled him even deeper at the next thrust. His thighs were trembling so much that he had no idea if he was still helping raise his own hips.

Hob leaned in and kissed Dream, tasting the sounds of their moans. He would have chased the heat of Dream’s lips and tongue for much longer, but Dream began thrusting at a faster pace and their kisses turned messier until Hob didn't have control over his own mouth anymore; gasps and pleas and curses spilling out as he threw his head back.

Dream was panting now, his eyes squeezed shut as he relentlessly hit Hob’s prostate with each movement of his hips.

“Hob.”

His name sounded positively sinful from Dream’s lips, and it was all it took for Hob to be hurled over the edge, stars exploding behind his eyelids as a scream tore from his throat.

He rode Dream’s cock through his orgasm, gasping softly when Dream came and spilled inside him with a low drawn-out moan.

Hob collapsed against Dream, boneless and half-conscious, only faintly registering that the water was draining and the tub was filling up again with a fresh batch, rinsing them of soap and spend before draining again.

“Shall we move to your bed, my love?” Dream asked breathlessly, his hand rubbing soothing circles over Hob's back.

Hob hummed in agreement and held Dream tightly.

In the next heartbeat, they were on his bed, dry and warm under the blankets.

Hob wrapped an arm around Dream and snuggled in the crook of his neck. “Thank you. For tonight. I love you.” He raised his head slightly and planted a kiss on Dream's jawline under his ear.

“And I love you, Hob Gadling,” Dream said softly, holding him close. “Now rest. There are pastries waiting for us in the morning.”

Another hum that was more a sigh of contentment slipped out of Hob, and he felt himself smile at the certainty that Dream would be waiting for him in the morning.

---

(Dreamling Bingo Masterpost)

(Masterlist)

[aurilvs]

황 런전 10:16 am

warnings: reader is referred to as girl and uses she/her pronouns mentions of food, swearing?? idk not that much A LOT OF FLUFF making out tell me if i missed smth

thats okay - d.o

0.5 k words

special thanks to @daincty bae for proof reading this caos of a story

part of my mornings with dream series sorry for the wait<33 and hope u enjoy it🫂

She woke up searching for Renjun’s warmth on that crispy almost winter morning. When the girl realized he wasn't on the bed she begrundedly left the warmth of their shared bed searching for her beloved boyfriend.

The girl found him in the kitchen making her favorite vanilla latte, just how she liked it and her heart swelled in adoration.

He always noticed the little things like how she liked her coffee not too sweet but not too bitter, how her hands were cold all the time so he carries hot packs in winter, and how her lips were always chapped so he carries a chapstick around in her favorite flavor just for her to use.

She felt an overwhelming rush of love for him and the only way she could express that was a back hug, the height difference didn't help her but she stayed there embracing her boyfriend.

Renjun jumped startled but when he realized it was the girl he immediately relaxed and spun around to face her.

“Morning baby” he muttered in his raspy morning voice before depositing a soft kiss on her cheek.

She giggled as the butterflies exploded in her tummy at her lover's voice “watcha doing” she asked unintentionally cute making Renjun stifle a giggle before pinching her cheek at her cuteness and muttering “Cute” she swatted his hand away saying” I'm not cute I'm a thug” making him laugh even more and answering.

“Whatever you say cutie I was making your coffee since you seem to be a gremlin in the morning”.

He joked making her gasp in surprise at the sudden diss “But you are my gremlin so,” he reminded her before he grabbed the cup of coffee and tea offering her, her cup.

They had matching cups that held a special meaning, for their first anniversary, they both gifted each other handmade cups with new tea or coffee respectively.

Maybe that's what makes them such a great couple they are very different but they always were reminded of each other and showed interest in each other hobbies and activities.

“Damn baby this coffee is so good I might just have to marry you” she joked, not really a joke while sipping on her coffee.

“Because I make good coffee?” he asked baffed but slightly blushing at her proposal “That and more your coffee is so good” she explained not realizing the impact of her words on her boyfriend.

She wanted to marry him one day “You are so cute” he muttered before pulling her in for a kiss that tasted like a mix of his tea and her coffee.

His tongue slightly teased her making her smile into the kiss. She could never get tired of kissing him, the activity quickly became one of her favorite things to do.

They pulled away since their lungs were begging for oxygen, he rested his forehead with hers slightly biting her lips in a teasing manner earning a smile from the both of them.

“I love you” she muttered not wanting to ruin the intimate mood “I love you too baby” he answered tugging her closer to his embrace both of them sipping their drinks and enjoying each other's presence.

[daceydeath]

[1:15]

Pairing: Jeongin x Reader Word Count: 478 Genre: fluff, established relationship Warnings: none

The snow continued to fall as you watched it drift in the wind lit up by the streetlights and twinkle light covered trees that surrounded your apartment building, winter had always been your favorite season and this one was no different the pretty white blankets of fresh snow each morning, the fairy lights and hot drinks but mostly the days when you could just cuddle up to your beloved boyfriend to keep warm after going out for the day and laughing or smiling until your face hurt.

But Jeongin wasn't around for you to cuddle right now he was still working, filming for a music show and it would be another few hours until he came home but you struggled to sleep without him beside you. You stirred your hot tea absentmindedly you had gotten ready for bed ages ago but when you still couldn't sleep you made yourself something hot to drink and just sat watching the snowflakes dance until hopefully your eyelids drooped, at least that was the plan an hour ago but you were yet to find sleep.

The keypad at the door chimed quietly making you sit up from the window seat and look towards the entrance as Jeongin tried to quietly make his way in, slipping off his sneakers leaving them on the tiled, shucking off his jacket and hanging it up behind the door, pulling his gloves and scarf off to pile on the hall table. He rubbed his face tiredly before walking further into the room until he noticed you.

"Baby? What are you still doing up?" He murmured crossing the room to you to cradle your face in his hands looking worried.

"I couldn't sleep" you shrugged noticing he had already washed the make up from his face so he must have finished early, his face relaxed as he took in that you were in fact fine.

"Come to bed baby, I need your cuddles it's been a long day" he smiled tiredly taking your cup and placing it on the coffee table beside you. You let him pull you up smiling as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Do you need to shower? I could help" you offered gently biting your lower lip slights.

"Not tonight baby, just cuddles" he whined softly tugging you to the bedroom and letting you crawl into bed while he quickly changed into his sleep clothes making his way to your side and wrapping you tightly in his arms as he pulled you against his chest. Your breath mingled with his as you listened to his heart beating steadily below your hand, you tangled your leg with his holding him as close to you as you could.

"I love you Jeongin" You whispered nudging your nose against his collarbone.

"Love you too baby" he smiled against your forehead kissing you again sweetly.

A/N: Short and sweet this time since it's hard to write in 40 degree heat. I adore you all for taking the time to read it though you are my favorite people x

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz, @armystay89, @damnyouficc

[gojipink]

my beloved goji🩷🩷🩷 tell me, how do your favs spoil you after a long day? like they know you’ll be tired when you get home & they haven’t stopped thinking about the kiss you shared before you left the house & now they just want to pamper you as soon as you get home

GASP omfg luna this is such a perfect question <3!!!!!!

all the boys know im a sucker for some acts of service and quality time hehe and by that i mean fking

alhaitham's timed everything perfectly so that the second im back home, he's finishing up cooking dinner. he greets me at the door and holds me steady as i completely slump into him when the exhaustion hits. after helping me take off my coat and shoes, he leads me to the dinner table and serves me his homemade dinner. he rolls his eyes at me when i half-jokingly ask him to feed me but he surprises me a little when he spoons up some food and blows on it before feeding me the first bite ♡ our dinner is comfortably quiet since he knows i dont have the energy to talk that much and his unoccupied hand travels around attentively massaging any tired muscles that he can reach. after finishing our dinner i stand in front of the sink ready to take care of the dishes to help him out but he comes up behind me snaking his arms around me preventing me from doing anything. pressing lingering kisses along the tops of my shoulder and neck, he whispers "let's go take a hot bath, hm? ill take care of you there" ❀˖°

diluc's been waiting for me to come home all day :( his mind mostly focused on his work throughout the day but occasionally drifts to me and the scorchingly passionate kiss i gave him in the morning (i 100% did it on purpose and just wanted to see him blush kekeke) unfortunately, our schedules are the slightest bit off so by the time he's done with his work ive already trudged through the mansion with tired bones and made it up to our shared bedroom to take a shower. when he reaches the room he finds me half plopped on the bed still wrapped up in only a towel, too tired to even muster up the energy to find clothes. laughing a little bit to himself, he kneels down in between my legs planting a soft kiss to both knees, hands kneading my calves. kisses traveling higher up my thighs as he whispers against my skin, "welcome home, my love" ⋆⭒˚.⋆

kaeya (ugh my perfect baby boy god i miss him) kaeya's actually the one who pulled me into the searing kiss this morning before i left. i found him in the kitchen finishing up his morning coffee going in for a short n sweet goodbye kiss before he set his mug down using one hand to cup my jaw the other tangling in my hair, slightly pulling to tilt my head up. pulling away he looks smug saying something about how that should give me the energy i need for the day (didnt hear all of what he said my brain way too hazy). kaeya's been observing me this whole past week and he's noticing how drained im slowly getting and he pulls out all the stops to make sure i get a relaxing night off <3 i come home absolutely dead tired and he's there at the door helping with my bag and shoes and to give me the sweetest hello kiss. walking further into the living room he surprises me with an intimate little set up of wine and a charcuterie board on a soft blanket in front of the fireplace. doesnt allow me to move a muscle while he feeds me fruits and cheeses, the whole night filled with soft sighs and giggles. throughout the night, he doesnt stop looking at me with stars in his eyes while he whispers praises against my skin, "my gorgeous girl... such a goddess all laid out pretty just for me...been working so hard lately, let me take care of my princess." ✧₊⁺

:0 I DIDNT MEAN TO WRITE WHOLE ASS BLURBS I PROMISE AND YET HERE WE ARE

[wonderwomanfantasy]

oh shit! kisses!

oh zbops my beloved you spoil me. I fucking love himbo Sero

Sero x Reader

Warnings: nothing really

Word count: 1,000 (about)

Summary: Sero is just a good guy, he's a nice coworker and great to be around. he's also as stupid as he is hot but you wouldn't have him any other way.

“Hanta,” you whined, almost throwing yourself on his desk. Sero smiled and patted your back, he’d been having kind of a rough morning, he’d woken up late and rushed through his morning, got chewed out by his manager, and stuck with a bunch of mind-numbing paperwork, count on you to make things better.

“What’s wrong cupcake?” he asked.

“I need coffee,” you said. Hanta grinned and quirked an eyebrow up at you

“Well sweetheart you just missed the breakroom, it’s back that way,”

“The break room coffee sucks,” you huffed. It was true, the breakroom coffee was watery as hell.

“Go down the street with me to get coffee?” you asked.

“Why do you need me to go with your cupcake? You’re a grown-up aren’t you?” he teased,

“But you’re my coffee buddy, I can’t go without you!” you protested. It was a one-hit K.O. you were just too fucking cute for him to put up with. He pushed the sleeves of his button-down shirt up to his elbows and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Alright let's go, can’t leave my baby hanging,” he teased, offering his arm to you which you took. Before walking out of the office on an early lunch.

Some people might think your relationship was romantic in nature. The nicknames, the teasing, and touching. But it really wasn’t like that, you were just close work friends and you were a little touchy. Did it sometimes make Hanta blush when you ran your hands over his chest or nuzzled his neck? I mean sure. He was a red-blooded man and you were his hot, hot coworker. He’d be nuts not to be attracted to you. But Sero wasn’t a dick, so he was more than capable of brushing off your touchiness.

You ordered your coffee and Sero ordered his then you sat down together at a small iron grate table. You took one of his hands and pressed your palms together.

“Look how big your hands are Hanta! How do you even function with such long fingers?” you giggled. Sero curled his knuckles, the tops of his fingers bending over yours. His hand slipped and suddenly his fingers were laced together with yours. His first impulse was to pull away but you held him tight and he quickly relaxed. Your hand was soft, small in his, he smiled to himself.

“If you’d like I can show you how I use these big hands of mine,” he teased making you laugh. He wouldn’t mind showing you a good time, not that you were really interested in him but a guy could dream.

“Buy me dinner first,” you teased back.

“I’ve bought you coffee isn’t that close enough?” you laughed again before launching into a rant about your day and all the shit you still had to do. Sero listened then went on his own tirade.

“Sounds like we both have a lot to do huh?” you asked blowing out a huff of air.

“Yep. we should probably get back to work and get some of it done,” he sighed.

“Or we could get another cup of coffee,” you offered.

“Or we could get more coffee,” he agreed, squeezing your hand once before letting you go to get you both refills. It didn’t bother him to pay for you, he was your coffee buddy after all.

Hanta ended up pulling a late night. He was so distracted that he didn’t even notice that you never came to say goodbye to him. You always said goodbye to him before you left and almost always you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. You were just affectionate like that.

Sero submitted his last form and rolled his chair back cracking his knuckles and groaning in satisfaction.

“Hanta what are you still doing here?” you asked peeking up at him from your own desk.

“Finishing up some stuff, what are you doing here?” he asked crossing over at you and peeking at your glowing computer screen, the only light in the room beside his own desk. You smiled tiredly at him.

“New project, I’ve been working later than normal the past couple of days,” you sighed. Sero set his jaw as he looked at what you were working on. It looked like a shit ton of math to him, you’d need a full week to teach him this shit.

“You’re the only one working on this?”

“No, but-”

“No buts, knowing you, you’ve already done more than you’re fair share, it’s late baby time to go home,” his tone left no room for argument. You sighed and saved your progress, and got ready to leave.

“Let me walk you,” he said. Grabbing his bag quickly as the two of you started for the exit.

“You don’t have to Hanta, I’ve got pepper spray,” you said pulling a little blue can from your bag and waving it at him. He hmmed.

“Still walking you,” he said putting his arm around your waist, his hand resting on your hip holding you close. You sighed and snuggled closer to him bracing yourself for the cold night air. It wasn’t so bad being this close to him.

“Just to the station though,” you amended.

“What are you trying to get yourself robbed?” he scoffed. It wasn’t like he didn’t know where you lived, you were just trying to be polite so he didn’t have to walk all the way to your apartment building then backtrack to his. Jokes on you though he wasn’t going to let anything happen to you tonight.

You stayed close to Sero on the nearly empty train and he walked you to your front door. It was the middle of the night, he was clearly tired you wanted to offer your home to him for the nice but you knew he wouldn’t accept.

“Thank you Hanta,”

“Don’t mention it, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said turning to leave. You grabbed his arm stopping him and leaning up to kiss his cheek. Or at least, you were going to kiss his cheek. Sero whipped his head around to see what you needed from him and it was already too late, you ended up kissing his lips.

Sero felt awful for taking advantage of you like that. Sure maybe the kiss was an accident but when he kissed you back, cupping your face and pressing you against your door was definitely not.

He didn’t mean to, but he just couldn’t help himself. “Mhp,” you whimpered against his lips. Sero got a grip and pulled back.

“Fuck- I’m sorry cupcake, I didn’t mean to,” he said, you smiled.

“It’s okay Hanta, it was nice,” you muttered.

“Nice?” he asked.

“Yeah, Why wouldn’t I enjoy kissing you? I thought I made it pretty clear that I like you,” you said. Hanta felt lightheaded.

“Then would you mind if I kissed you again?”

[t0wnspersonb]

Day Off (Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

Word Count: 2,158

Warnings: FLUFF, bad language, suggestive language, my shit writing lmao

Summary: You hardly ever got to spend time with your husband, so when he has a day off, well, your heart can’t help but be entirely full. Especially when you see him interacting with your children.

~~~~

Anonymous said:

Hello💜💜 I was wondering if you could make an fluff/smut imagine about where Bakugou where the reader is his beloved wife they both have kids and just shows how their daily lives are. Btw I’m a huge fan of your imagines🥰

~~~~

I hope you enjoy this request anon! I didn’t do smut this time around, but here is some fluffy papa Bakugou for you! Also thank you so much for your kind words! I’m so glad you like my shit writing lol.

I always enjoy writing fluffy shit like this lmao. I love Bakugou with all my fucking heart and I hope you guys enjoy this too!

~~~~

You loved your family, you would do anything for them, the unconditional love that you held in your heart was something that would never be questioned.

 But sometimes, you loved your alone time just a tad bit more.

 Like now. 

 The house was clean, the house was quiet; and you actually got to enjoy a nice hot cup of coffee, fresh and incredibly delicious for your sleep deprived senses.

 You were an early riser, maybe it was because of all the morning training and runs that Bakugou had forced you to do when you guys were younger, or maybe it was because when you had kids you had realized that there just wasn’t enough time in the day to get everything done. 

 Quite possibly it was the latter.

 But everything was done, the laundry, the dishes, sweeping and mopping, you had gone to the grocery store yesterday, a surprisingly pleasant trip since the kids were actually behaving for once.

 You owe it to your husband, who had gotten off of his hero duties early yesterday and had helped you around the house, and he was off today.

 The first time in a long time.

 You probably should’ve lingered in your shared bed just a little longer, you hardly had alone time with the explosion hero as it was, but… you had been dying to read the new book that you had gotten weeks ago. Bakugou could handle waking up alone for one day, right?

 “Are you fucking kidding me? You shit nerd, how long have you been doing this?” his familiar gruff voice sighed from the entrance of the living room.

 You glanced up from your book, a small smile tugging at your lips as you took in his sleepy figure.

 Bakugou’s blonde hair was even more disheveled, his sweats hung low on his hips, one of his large hands was underneath his shirt, absentmindedly scratching at the skin that stretched across his sculpted stomach.

 You took a lot of pleasure in the fact that you got to see the most popular pro hero so domestic, so casual.

 His ring caught the morning light streaming through the window, glinting beautifully as he stretched out his muscular arms above his head, his shirt rising up, exposing the lower half of his stomach to your greedy eyes. His biceps bulged out beautifully against the sleeves of his shirt.

 You also took pleasure in just staring at your husband, that beautiful specimen of a man was all yours.

 “What time is it?” you asked. 

 “Almost 9.” 

 “Hmmm. Since 4:30 then?” You pondered, placing your bookmark between the pages, and closing the book completely, placing it on the coffee table.

 Bakugou made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat as he padded off towards the kitchen.

 You laughed softly to yourself, following after the muscular male. 

 “Stop fucking staring at me.” Bakugou grumbled, vermilion eyes sliding over to you briefly as he drank down his glass of water.

 “Can’t a wife just look at her husband?” you asked innocently, he walked over to you, his hands coming down on either side of your face, squeezing your cheeks together tightly.

 “Not when the wife ditches her husband in the morning to read a stupid fucking book.” he sneered.

 You laughed, grabbing at his much larger hands, and pulling them away from your face.

 “I’m sorry Katsu, what can I do to make it up to you?” you teased lightly.

 You shouldn’t have asked.

 A wicked smirk stretched across his face. “Get on your knees.” his voice was husky, commanding as he stared at you, daring you to challenge him.

 You could feel your lips part at his words, a pink blush beginning to dust your cheeks.

 It had been a long time since you -

 “Mama?” 

 The moment was gone completely, the wide smirk that Bakugou wore turned into a deep scowl.

 “Good morning baby.” you cooed turning to look at your small child. He was the spitting image of Bakugou, but he was the sweetest boy, completely unlike his father.

 He rubbed at his small eyes before they landed on Bakugou, a sweet smile stretching across his face. 

 “Papa. Up.” he held out his little arms, urging Bakugou to pick him up.

 You could see the scowl visibly melting away from Bakugou’s face, replaced with a gentle one as he gazed at his son. 

 It was hard for Bakugou, being able to spend time with his children, despite how rough he was, how crude his words could be; he was a wonderful father, a wonderful husband.

 You were entirely lucky.

 Bakugou easily swung his child up into his muscular arms. Your son sighing in happiness as he rests his head against Bakugou’s broad shoulders, his thumb coming up to rest between his lips.

 The sight of the two of them together melted your heart completely, clenching tightly in your chest as Bakugou pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your son’s head.

 “Papa’s home today?” Another familiar voice spoke. You turned to see your daughter staring at Bakugou in curiosity.

 She was the oldest, and the spitting image of you, except… well her personality was entirely her father’s.

 “Why don’t you guys go watch some cartoons while I get breakfast started?” you hummed.

 “Come on you shit stain.” Bakugou ruffled his daughter’s hair, urging her out of the kitchen into the living room.

 You and your daughter frowned, you at the fact that he just called your child a shit stain, and her because he messed up her already messy hair.

 “Your breath smells like shit Papa.” your daughter said, tone annoyed as she shoved his hand away from her head.

 You sighed tiredly, hand resting on the side of your face.

 “Oi, you aren’t allowed to curse.” Bakugou scolded, a large tick mark appearing on his forehead and he grabbed your daughter’s head pushing her out of the kitchen.

 You could hear their loud bickering fading into the living room, causing you to sigh deeply once again. 

 But a smile twitched on your lips, it had been a long time since you guys got to enjoy the morning together like this.

 When you had finally finished cooking breakfast you went to go grab the rest of your family. 

 Your heart melted at the sight. Bakugou held both kids in his arms, your children looking incredibly small as they cuddled up against their father.

 Despite the fact that your eldest and Bakugou always fought, she was a daddy’s girl through and through. Bakugou’s fingers combed through her unruly hair absentmindedly, while his other hand rubbed up and down your son’s back.

 Their eyes were glued to the TV as some anime played.

 You cleared your throat, all three pairs of eyes flickering to your form. 

 “Breakfast is ready.” you smiled, watching as your little girl climbed off of Bakugou padding past you towards her seat in the kitchen. Bakugou lifted up your son, easily carrying him into the kitchen and setting him down on his highchair.

 “What should we do today?” you mused as you guys began eating, Bakugou was feeding your son, making a disgusted face when he spit the food back out.

 “I need new shoes for school mama.” Your daughter said, mouth full of food.

 Bakugou made another disgusted face, handing your daughter a napkin.

 “Wipe your face brat, and don’t talk with your mouth full.” He lectured. 

 “Can we go to the park today?” her eyes lit up, ignoring her father completely as she tossed the crumpled-up napkin at his face.

 “Don’t throw shit at me! Don’t ignore me either!” he growled, a tick mark appearing on his face once again.

 “I’m trying to talk to mama, and you keep interrupting, annoying papa.” she snapped back.

 You sighed. “No fighting you two. We should be able to go to the mall today....” you trailed off, trying to remember if there was anything important you had to do today.

 “I need more workout shirts, and new training gloves. Damn Deku borrowed mine and never returned them.” Bakugou said gruffly.

 “Then I guess we can all go on a trip today.” you smiled. “Let’s finish up and start getting ready.”

 ****

 You almost forgot what it was like to bring the entire family out, it had been too long since the last time you guys did something like this.

 Needless to say, you were already exhausted.

 It took forever to get everyone out of the house. Bakugou did his best to help get the kids ready but… between the constant fighting with him and your daughter and your son's endless crying about not wanting to go and not wanting to put on pants, and Bakugou’s attempts at intimacy as you got ready... well, you wanted to get this over with already.

 “What do you think?” your daughter asked, pointing her toe out, the Uravity themed shoes on full display for you.

 “Very pretty, do you want those ones?” you asked. 

 She nodded excitedly.

 “Why do you want round face’s shoes? Why not mine?” Bakugou grumbled, staring down at his daughter accusingly.

 “Yours are ugly papa. I don’t like the colors. Uravity is my favorite hero.” She said face blank as she stared at the blonde male.

 This was definitely a sight to see, considering that Bakugou had your son perched on his hip and he was glaring down at the small girl who was glaring right back at him.

 “Huh? Ground Zero isn’t your favorite hero?” he barked.

 “No. Uravity is.”

 “Well mama’s favorite hero is Ground Zero.” He smirked, eyes flickering over to you.

 “Actually, Red Riot is my favorite hero.” You teased, soft laughter escaping your lips as your husband’s face fell at the mention of his best friend.

 “Let’s go over here!” Your daughter said excitedly, the conversation completely abandoned as she took sight of the toy store across from the shoe store you guys were at.

 “Hold on. I still have to pay.” you said in amusement, walking over to the cashier.

 Bakugou stood next to you, one of his large hands resting on the small of your back. When you had finished paying and began trailing after your excited daughter, he leaned in close.

 “You’re getting punished for saying that.” Bakugou growled near your ear. 

 “Is that a promise?” you challenged, ignoring the blush in your cheeks and the pleasant twist that occurred in the pit of your stomach.

 “You can count on it.” he growled, a smirk playing on his lips before he walked off to catch up with your daughter.

 You were definitely looking forward to it.

 ****

 You sighed loudly as you sat down on the park bench. 

 “Here.” Bakugou handed you one of the drinks he got from the vending machine, his eyes never leaving his children that were now playing on the playground equipment.

 “Did you have fun today?” you asked, resting your head against his shoulder as he took a seat beside you.

 “No.” he snorted, and then his expression changed, his eyes softening completely, his face relaxed. “It’s been a while since we got to spend the day together.”

 His large fingers found your own, intertwining together tightly. “Thank you.”

 You glanced over at him curiously. “For what?”

 You could see a soft blush coating his cheeks. He was embarrassed. It wasn’t anything new though, you knew your husband well enough to know that he was terrible at verbally expressing his feelings. 

 “You’re a good mother, and a good wife. Thank you for always taking care of the kids… and me.” he grumbled.

 Your expression softened, your heart warming completely. It was rare when Bakugou praised you like this, again, he was terrible at expressing his feelings verbally, especially something so gentle and heartfelt like this.

 “Of course, Katsu.” you beamed at him.

 He scoffed at your expression, but reached for you, cupping the side of your face as he stooped low, pressing his mouth against yours carefully.

 You hummed low in your throat; eyes fluttering shut as you kissed him back. Sweet and gentle, incredibly warm and full of love.

 “Ew. You actually let papa do that? That’s disgusting.” You broke free from the kiss and turned to see your daughter staring at you guys in disgust. 

 You laughed softly at her comment, Bakugou on the other hand…

 “Aren’t you supposed to be watching your brother?” he asked, eyebrow twitching in annoyance.

 “No wonder Deku is the number 1 hero.” Your daughter muttered to herself before turning to walk away.

 “What the fuck did you just say you shit?” Bakugou growled, standing up and swooping down, easily throwing your daughter over his shoulders.

 She squealed loudly, contagious giggles escaping her lips as Bakugou jogged over to the playground. He scooped up your other child, swinging him around rapidly.

 A soft smile twitched at your lips as you watched them.

 You loved your little family.

[mxvladdy]

Oof, my little heart couldn't hold all of the feels you elicited with "Worth", so good. You were very thorough

Can I request a NSFW continuation later that afternoon?

Maybe a bit of praise kink since his little Giglio needs reassurance? (Also, 👀 demon daddy dick in a tiny human can't be easy)

A/N: *ears perk up* How did you know all of my weaknesses?

Pairing: Diavolo x GN! Reader

Warnings: Little bit of size kink, little bit of daddy kink, smut (18+)

Word Count: 4.6k (there is a lot leading up to it lol)

You decide to take the rest of your meal to Diavolo’s private solarium. While his inner chambers were comfortable enough. If you were going to take the day to yourselves you didn’t want to spend all of it in the bedroom. No matter how tempting the idea was. Dia takes you through the maze of corridors and hidden doors, both of you still in your night things, unkempt but happy to be so. Normally Diavolo wouldn’t be caught dead outside of a pressed suit or his uniform, but this was a treat for both of you after all. So now he strolled through his kingdom in nothing but a pair of sleep pants and sleepers, you nestled comfortably in his arms grasping a basket of leftover food and drink tucked in your lap. No stuffy clothes today or polite word play, just layed back pleasures.

Artificial sunlight greets you as he pushes the large glass door open to his garden with his shoulder. The warmth of it cuts through the thin fabric of your sleepwear, chasing away the last vestiges of drowsiness that clung to you. You unfurl in his arms, stretching out like the plants around you. Smiling up into the sun you can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. The breeze circling around you was sweet with the smell of blooming spring flowers and crisp creek water.

The first time Diavolo invited you into his secret garden you were in awe. He boasted proudly to you that he had designed it and planted the gardens himself back in his younger years before his duties took up almost all his time. It was a wild place. The plants growing free and unmolested by controlling hands or others' judgment of what beauty was. It reflected the unique characteristics of the Prince beautifully. To be given access to this place was an honor. Not even the brothers knew of this area. His personal beach was a place he didn’t mind sharing with his closest companions, but the gardens? The gardens were just his. Only he and Barbatos knew of it. Until you came along.

“Where shall we sit mio giglio?” His gold eyes sweep his grounds before looking down at you with a tender smile. “By the willows? They are in bloom, or perhaps the lake.” He nods his chin to the south following a clean well maintained brick path. Both of these places were your favorite places to relax after school.

You look down at the basket in your lap in thought. “No. How about the veranda by the hedge garden?” That was his favorite place to lounge.

He hums in delight, agreeing readily. “Wonderful! The cosmos should be in bloom by now.” He turns to the north traipsing through soft overgrown grass and sprouts of spongy moss. He didn’t have a path for this area.

“You can just make them bloom whenever, right?” You ask.

“And where would be the fun in that?” He shoots you a wink. “Magic doesn’t need to be used for everything you know.”

You huff. “Says the guy that can do magic.” He laughs but doesn’t disagree. The sound of a babbling brook grows louder and louder as you both venture further into the heart of his garden. The trees and bushes tickle your body as he walks through the grove of overgrown branches and vines to the most secluded part. Breaching one more dense shrubbery you arrive. He lets you down with a tender kiss before going about collecting the discarded floor cushions and blankets scattered about the patio. He works in silence creating a semi-circle of puff by the edge of the deck. You let him work placing the basket by the little nest forming and go to lean over the low railing separating you from a short drop down to the flowing waters traveling underneath you. The air was cooler here from the freshwater. It gives you goosebumps up your bare legs. “Careful,” Dia calls to you, looking up from his work. “The wood is slick there.”

You nod showing him that both of your hands were on the railing as you venture over to the bright blue and yellow flowers pushing their way through the gaps in the wood. They sway innocently up at you. Their petals are soft and forgiving under the pads of your fingers. They looked like human plants, but you were certain. “Everything here is safe for you to explore.”

Turning to your prince you laugh. His large body now splayed out over the nest he had just finished. His body faces away from you towards the unlit fire pit. He looks at you upside down, his head draping over a large bolster pillow. “Oh? Does that include you?” You match his teasing smile stopping inches away from his outstretched hands. He scoffs in frustration, making grabby hands at your thighs to make you join him.

“Of course tesoro. This day is for us… for you. If you so desire.” His voice is calm and light but his eyes are predatory.

“I do like that idea.” You inch closer bending down to trace a finger over his bare chest. You follow the swirling marks of his heritage up his chest and arms to his parted lips. “I do have some ideas…” You trail off feeling claw-tipped fingers circling your calves and travel up to your inner thighs. The tips of which brush dangerously close to the edges of your underwear.

Diavolo beams. “Dia!” You yelp in shock as he takes your knees out from under you. You tumble forward into his warm body and pillows. His laugh is jovial and bright, way too pleased with his little stunt. Straightening yourself out on his chest you match his gentle rolling laugh with your own breathless one.

“Mio Giglio.” He comes up to kiss the laugh lines curling around your lips. “Cosa c’é che non va?” He hugs you closer. You laugh accepting his affections. “Such a beauty.” He marvels. “Even with the dried drool.” He swipes at the corner of your mouth before you could protest.

“Hey!” You wiggle in his embrace elbowing his stomach in jest. “I do not!” You rub your warming face just to make sure. “Though, you would too if you slept like the dead. Mister toss and turn all night.” Dia chortles.

“I do not know that colloquialism.” He raises a red brow. You can see the excitement lighting up in his eyes at the thought of learning something new, something entirely human. “You do not reek of death.” He sniffles obnoxiously for comedic effect. “You smell alive and wholly mine. Though the latter is fading.” He nips your shoulder. “Has it been that long since we have lain together?” Your silence as you thought was enough of an answer for him.

“Apologies-” He growls. “I have neglected you more than I thought. Shall we rectify that?” Two warm hands grasp your bottom grinding you down slowly on the growing hardness between his legs. You groan letting him set a slow leisurely grind to your hips. You rock for a while capturing his lips with yours. His kisses leave you breathless. “May I?” You don’t know what he was asking for but whatever it was you knew it was going to be good.

With your eager nod of encouragement, Dia flops back down onto his back and holds you firm to his chest. With his eyes on yours, he slides forward till his shaggy head disappears underneath the hem of your sleepshirt. His hot breath dampens the skin of your inner thigh. You squirm feeling a definitely inhuman tongue trailing up to your center, tasting the salt forming there. Relax my flower, let me in. His voice echoes deep within your head. Its low thrumming helps your body relax under his skilled mouth and hands. Your eyes close, more than ready for Diavolo to consume you in the best possible way. His purr trails up your spine while his face nuzzles deeper into the fabric of your damp underwear.

Then your stomach rumbles-loudly.

“Ha!Ha!” In a flash, Diavolo pops out from beneath your legs. His fangs glistening while he laughs. “My darling, have I now neglected one of your base needs?”

“You’re neglecting me now~” You try to grab his shoulders to continue, fighting like mad not to glow even hotter with embarrassment as your stomach roars again. He laughs louder. It booms out ricocheting off the wooden floor.

“Come now. I will claim you soon enough beloved. First, let us sate your other hunger.” Righting your clothes he nestles you in beside him reaching over for the basket. He chuckles, not letting your pouting get to him. He swats your ass teasingly making you squeak. “Coffee or tea?” He rubs the spot he just hit and pulls out two large insulated carafes.”

You eye him. “When did you plan this?” He smiles, serving you up a plate of goodies and a cup of coffee.

“This morning when Barbatos came to rouse me for my morning meetings.” He pops a piece of smoked meat in his mouth and looks out into the sunlit garden. “I suggested instead of getting my uniform ready, perhaps he would kindly bring some warm drinks and extra pillows to the solarium before leaving us to our own devices.” He leans back into the tufted blankets and pillows. “I thought some “air” would be good for-err...me. To clear my head a little before- you know.” His cheeks pinken.

“You’re hungover.” You snort into your toast. It wasn’t a question and he doesn’t deny it. Instead, he goes to pour himself a large cup of black coffee.

“I thought by the time you woke up it would pass.” He shrugs. “But I believe the fresh air and sun wouldn’t hurt either,” Diavolo pauses in thought before continuing. “Plus, I always wanted to fuck you out here.”

You choke. “You could have just said so.” You poke his leg.

“And ruin the surprise?” He pokes you back.

You eat your fill of the basket, topping each piece of the crusty pieces of bread you pull out with soft cheeses and savory prosciutto, sprinkling the tops of each with pine nuts and a drizzle of honey. All the while Diavolo sips at his coffee deep in thought. You catch his eyes several times while you eat, his eyes following the trail of your tongue as you try in vain to clean the sticky residue left from the sweet syrup on your fingers. The last time you catch him you offer him a tacky finger, getting dangerously close to his stubbly cheek. “Want some?”

The prince chuckles, tilting his head away. He grabs your wrist gently. “What a mess, my little human.” He licks one of your fingers, sucking the tip for a moment before releasing you. You pull your hand back, scrunching your nose up in distaste.

“I didn’t expect you to actually lick them!” He laughs, pulling a napkin out for you. You take it and wipe your hands.

“Please, you act like I haven’t tasted all of you before.” His playful gaze flashes hungrily over you for a moment. He takes your empty plates from you and places them to the side. “Come here piccolo giglio I believe we had some unfinished business, no?” You clamber up his lap spreading your legs wide to straddle him. Diavolo chuffs, the sound rattling your chest. “Shall I start where I left off?” He rucks your shirt up higher revealing inch after inch of soft skin till it bundles one your waist. His callous fingers skirt over your underwear to tug at the waistband.

Dia pulls you in for a searing kiss, teeth grazing over your lips and tongue. You follow his pace, his kisses languid. Before long he begins to lead your hips in a slow grind over his covered dick. His hands rolling your hips in time with his kisses. The slow tempo doesn’t last long. While he may have the patience of the saints you most certainly didn’t.

He grins into your kiss when he feels you huff in annoyance. Your hands come up to cup his cheeks in warning. “Stop teasing me.” You separate from him with a whimper. He grins taking a thick finger to the seam of your underwear.

“Is it not the devil’s job to tempt?” His gold eyes flash in warning before the world turns upside down. You land on your back, the cushions catching your tumble. Your shout of surprise turns into a high pitch whine of pleasure as Dia’s head buries itself between your splayed legs. His tongue follows the line his finger had just traced earlier. “Getting to indulge my sweetheart in a paradise like this? I am upset that I had not thought of this sooner.” He whispers to himself. He pauses, pushing away to look at you. The air around him grows thick. “Tell Daddy what you need.” You shiver, breath catching at the sharp drop in his tone. His jovial teasing was gone, replaced with a tone of authority that makes your toes curl. His hot whisper caresses your ear and your mind goes blank.

What did you want? What did you want first? You wanted his fingers stroking you to completion, his lips kissing every cry that spilled from your lips. You wanted his solid body covering yours rocking deep inside of you. You wanted him to erase every fear and anxiety that the court had instilled in you. “You.” It was all you could manage to say, but it was enough for him. Pushing you onto your back he grabs your hips and pulls them into the air, throwing your legs around his broad shoulders. You wiggle your shoulders deeper into the pillows grinning up at Diavolo as you squeeze your thighs around his ears. Groaning in satisfaction, he leans forward. Your underwear doesn’t last long now that he has you where he wants you. The soft fabric tearing in his haste to remove them, the tattered remains of the cotton thrown off into the bushes to be forgotten. There is no preamble anymore. His tongue laps broad patterns across your entrance.

“D…” You arch your back upwards, grinding yourself onto his face. “Dia.” Diavolo rumbles back, squeezing your quacking thighs to comfort you. He pulls you closer still, eyes locking with yours to watch your reaction as he circles your hole. He waits there playing with you until he sees something he liked in your expression. When he sees whatever it was that he was looking for he strikes, sinking his tongue deep, groaning with you at the feel of tight muscles relaxing around his intrusion. You cover your mouth trying hard to muffle your sounds in the silent garden around you. Even if you were alone, just the thought that you could be overheard sent a shudder through you. You could hear your heart hammering in your ears as the demon slowly worked you open. You wail, forgetting your previous attempts to be silent when you felt a large finger join his tongue.

He rubs against you slowly twisting and pulling his finger and tongue in mind numbing patterns to bump along your sides till you choke. He hums sucking noisily in triumph. Bringing his hands up, he spread your cheeks further apart burying deeper. “Dia-please.” You pull at his hair unsure if you were asking for more or less. You could feel a fire starting in your toes, static clouding your mind.

He pulls off, lips glistening with slick. “Say it properly.” He nips your leg in warning. You bite your bottom lip, worrying it between your blunt teeth. Your eyes blur with tears of frustration. You were so close… a finger toys with you pressing in on the edges of your entrance waiting.

“Daddy-please.” Your reward was instantaneous, his fingers thrust in, curling up to mimic the motions his tongue had done just before. He curls over the top of you covering you with his warm body. His lips brush against your temple and mouth to distract you from another finger slipping in alongside his forefinger.

“So good for me, so good, my little human.” Diavolo moans against your mouth before his tongue pushes past your lips once more. You tremble in the cage of his arms, soft mews falling from your open lips while he stretches you. It hurts, just a little sting, but it reminds you just how distant you two have been of late. Gripping onto his arms you struggle to take him. Even with your prince doing his best to distract you from the discomfort you feel it was a lot. He whispers praises into your sweaty skin while he peppers your shoulder with kisses. “Easy love, think you can handle one more.” Gods you were already overwhelmed, but still so greedy for more. You knew what to come would be even more. You nod. Anything to hurry him up.

He rewards you with a hard kiss before slipping in a third finger, his thumb coming up to rub soothing circles into your skin. You cry out in a daze. The rough pads of his fingers catch on your walls pulling strained notes from you with each stroke. He pumps in slow sporadic patterns just skirting over the areas that drive you crazy. He coos to you, singing your praises while his eyes linger on how your body clings to him each time he tries to pull out. But soon the burn disappears altogether and is replaced by the nagging pressure on your shoulders. The position leaning up against his kneeling form begins to agitate your neck and back.

Squirming in his attentive hold you tap his bicep in rapid succession. He stops immediately feeling your sign and pulls away. “Speak to me.” He looks you over. His tone turns soft once more, his domineering demeanor vanishes quickly. “Is this too much?”

Shaking your head you plant the balls of your feet into his shoulders and push him away. He moves away so you lay sprawling out in the cushions. Your body thanks you, popping and groaning as you stretch out. “No, no it’s perfect. I just need to change positions. I’m not as big and strong as you.” You wink. He chuckles sitting back onto your haunches to give you a moment to center yourself. He can only keep his hands to himself for a moment before they are on you again. He rubs up your ankles and knees, messaging any tense muscles he feels until you are melting, your body warming up again to the idea of him on you. “There,” You sigh popping your neck. “Now, where were we, Daddy.” You wrap your legs around his strong waist coming up to your elbows to tug at the waistband of his pants.

Hand around his thick cock you stroke up toying your thumb over his head. Diavolo grunts going rigid at the feel of your wondering fingers. Harsh words in his native tongue fall from his lips. He covers your slowly moving hand with his own to guide you just how he likes. “Gods, I miss this. How long has it been since the last time we have had time to indulge like this?” He watches your hand through half-lidded eyes, the gold of his irises molten.

“Too long.” You agree. You lean back and close your eyes enjoying the feel of him in your hand. “Did you?”

“Basket, left hand side.” He nods at the discarded wicker basket.

You give him an appreciative squeeze and lean over to rummage through the forgotten food. “Thought of everything, huh?”

“I promised to be attentive today, did I not? I always want to treat my little human right.” He twists his hand over yours upping the tempo of your strokes till he is hissing around gritted fangs. “I-was hoping at least.” He breaks his gaze from your joined hands. His cheeks tint pink beneath his dark skin.

You crane your neck up to kiss the strained expression from his face. You feel him vibrating beneath your touch, ready to spring. “Let me prep you?” You ask while reaching for the bottle you placed between your thighs to warm it.

“I don’t need much.” He admits moving away. “You drive me crazy.” He groans hearing you pop the cap and feel the slightly warm drizzle down his cock. Your hand returns with a smoother glide, faster this time. Your other traveling down to squeeze his balls. He gasps, losing control of his steel restraint for a moment to grab your shoulders. He arches into your ministrations groaning in great detail just what he was going to do to you into the cool air of the back garden. His blood is boiling in his veins when he finally pushes your hands away to lay you down.

“How do you want me?” You finally strip your sleep shirt away excitedly.

“Just like this for now.” He growls lifting your leg up and back over his shoulder while he wraps the other around his hip locking it down in his strong grip. “I need to see you.” He squeezes your hip lovingly. “Lay back.” You drop baring yourself fully for his perusal. Your arms spread up and over your head to wrap themselves in the rumpled blankets.

He thanks you with a light kiss to your ankle before lining himself up with your entrance. His breathing grows heavy, deep chuffs emerging again in his excitement. He can taste your eagerness mixing with his in the air. He teases you, playing his head against you, pushing in only enough to breach you before pulling out again. He plays with you like this till your mewling, your blunt little nails leaving tiny crescent shaped indentations in the tawny skin of his arms. The sharp little sting of your nails trying to break through his thick skin along with the feel of your body clenching around him in a futile effort to suck him in is finally enough for him. Setting his hips thrusts forward.

He steals the cry escaping from your mouth with a kiss. The smooth feel of his tongue and teeth pull your senses in twain scrambling your brain as he stretches you open more than his fingers ever could. You should remember the feel of him. After all the times you two have spent together he still takes your breath away.

The stretch was immense as always, your legs shaking in his hold despite your best effort to stay still. Another inch slips in and you yelp. Your hands fly up instinctively out and press against his tense abdomen to halt him. “I-a moment.” You are both shaking for different reasons while you will your body to relax, your muscles squeezing him to the point of discomfort. He waits halfway in and breathes deeply through his nose. Diavolo hunches over you, careful not to jostle you. Resting his head on your shoulder he whispers words of praise to you in languages lost since lost to mortal ears. His lips trace nonsensical patterns into your shoulder and chest. You melt bit by bit into his words and skillful caresses till you are relaxed and pliant.

You nod when ready, your body screaming for a release. His reaction is instantaneous, hips curling to push in with vigor. By the time his hips are flush with yours, you are on the verge again. “Dia, God-” Your words were cut off after a hard thrust from him.

He laughs breathlessly into your shoulder. “God? In my gardens? Such blasphemy…” His claws emerge, the black and gold tips rip into the cushions around you. “You would call for another in my presence? Must I remind you who warms your bed?” You bob your head eagerly, your heart leaping into your throat at the look he gives you.

He starts up again, his rhythm steady and solid, much like the man himself. The sound of skin slapping skin slowly begins filling the space between you. Diavolo is silent as he moves against you, his hands unable to find a permanent place to land. They roam your body, squeezing your hips and ass before traveling up to your pert nipples. His mouth follows his hands licking the valley between your pectorals and lavishing your neck with fresh blemishes the colors of the flowers around you. You love the solid weight on him pinning you to his front, but the tempo was too soft for his words.

“Thought you were going to leave your mark on me? Make sure I never utter another being's name from my lips again.” You pant tugging at his hair sharply pulling a deep grunt from him. “Make me yours Dia- you promised.” Your words did the trick. He grabs your hips once more, nearly folding you in half to sink deeper inside. You howl, the stretch of him pushing your borders brings you closer and closer to that sweet precipice. The devil bearing down on you was just what you needed.

The heat of him on top of you is dizzying, making your headlight and fuzzy. You can feel the small compacted muscles of his abdomen and stomach stretch and twitch with each smooth thrust of his hips into yours. Too soon for his liking, the fire building in his gut began to unravel. “Ah-mia dolcezza. Somo vicino.” The prince grounds out into your heaving chest. While you didn’t understand the words, the raw desperation in them sends a carnal shiver down your spine. You begin to beg, voice high and breathless as his thrusts quicken.

You lock your free leg around his waist while your hands drift down to touch yourself. He slaps your hand away only to replace them with his own strong fingers. His fingers sever the thin tether keeping you from coming and you tip. Dia’s own roar of completion was all but muted white noise in your ear. You gasp looking up blindly through a sweaty curtain of red hair as Dia twitches and spills deep within you. He falls atop of you crushing you into him, but you couldn’t give less of a damn. He was a safe space in this realm. He was your safe space. His purs melting on top of you as you massage his scalp comfortingly. The two of you bask in silence for the moment. “I can’t feel my legs.” You admit finally feeling a tingle starting in your toes and calves.

“In a good way?” His voice is muffled by the pillows by your head. You hum.

“Very- and you?” He chuffs, raising onto shaking arms, and slips out of you. He watches his seed trickle out lazily. He rumbles in pride as your body tries to keep it all inside. Already the smell of his claim was covering your natural clean scent.

“At ease and wonderful.” He flops to his side scooping you up to cradle you against his chest. His arm comes around your middle while his chin rests on the top of your head. Exhausted, you relax in his arms, eyes already too heavy to stay open. Soon he hears your breathing even out becoming deep and steady in your slumber. Diavolo smiles to himself looking out to the creek. He’ll let you rest, for now, already he could feel himself stirring once more his instincts to coat you in his scent pushing him into overdrive. He was far from sated. Hopefully, you felt the same.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Baby, It’s Cold Outside (Wes/Fem!Reader)

Summary: Reader and Wes bond over mistletoe and spend a wintry night together. A/N: This is technically a holiday fic, but only Mistletoe and Baby, It’s Cold Outside are referenced, so everyone can enjoy! Couple: Wes/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Marking, biting, bruising, fingering, oral (female receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex Word Count: 6.3k

MASTERLIST

Traditions are interesting things. From barely held-together ornaments hanging on carefully curated fir trees to curling up with a cup of hot chocolate to watch the same old movies despite knowing all the words by heart, the holidays were the perfect time to exercise the bounds of age-old traditions. Some were more interesting than others. This season I was particularly fixated on the Saturnalian tradition pertaining to suspended shrubbery.

Mistletoe, the twig and berries meant to represent love, peace, and… well, some other, more lewd things. It’s questionable backstory aside, I decided to focus on the first of the things: love.

Because traditions aren’t unique to the holidays, and you needn’t look further than our company break room to see what I mean. Every single morning, without fail, one resident veterinarian would stumble in with only half-brushed bedhead and make a beeline for the coffee machine.

This time, though, he would find an extra obstacle in his way before he could make it to his beloved beverage. Hung just above the pot, dangling rather obviously from the cabinet, was a small bundle of berries. And next to those berries was me, idling around the kitchenette and waiting for opportunity to strike.

Of course, when Wes walked in, his response was about what I expected. While he did almost make it all the way to the pot, he’d stopped just before he could be considered under the mistletoe, turning to look at me with a mischievous little glint that was just begging for me to join him.

So, I did, gliding over and pouring myself another cup like there wasn’t an ulterior motive to my existing in that space with him.

I’d expected the story to end there, with him teasing my blatant attempts at flirting as nothing but harmless fun. But to my genuine surprise, Wes put his hand over mine on the handle of the pot before he took one very purposeful step forward, placing the two of us squarely under the branch together.

It wasn’t the action that made my heart skip a beat, although it certainly didn’t help its already panicked pace, it was the way he looked at me as he stood there. Our chests were pressed against each other and our hands still together as he challenged me with nothing but a smirk and narrowed eyes.

I couldn’t let him get away with it, though. Not after all the work I’d put in so far. Standing just a little bit taller, I leaned ever so slightly forward while I managed to whisper with just a little bit of pride, “Caught you.”

Again, Wes caught me off guard with absolutely no fight to his words. Instead, a soft and still sleepy, “Why, yes you did.”

But then his devilish playfulness kicked in seconds later, and he started to close the gap between us much faster than before.

“What are you going to do now?” he asked through a wicked grin, “Kiss me?”

For a moment, I considered it. I thought about all the different ways this situation could end. I imagined how it would feel to finally feel his lips against mine, and I pictured how sweet it would be to see his eyes half-lidded and filled with a similar desire in my own.

But then I chickened out. It wasn’t entirely my fault, either. It was his fault, really. Since the first day on the job, I was repeatedly and sternly warned that Wes did not tolerate workplace romance. I couldn’t blame him; it was a recipe for disaster. It didn’t make me want him any less, though. And on some days, I would swear he felt that same magnetism. But that day wasn’t one of them. I was too nervous from the intensity and proximity.

“Yeah, right,” I said with a chuckle and a step in the opposite direction, “You’d never let that happen.”

That hand that had covered mine so boldly slid to my wrist, gripping just enough to halt my retreat. The unexpected momentum brought me back to him, our chests flush together in the creeping dawn of a day I’d only dreamed about.

“No?” he dared, “Try me.”

The whole world came to a screeching stop, and I blinked once, twice, three times before I managed to sputter out an incredulous, pathetic, “What?”

“You don’t want bad luck, do you?” he teased, his hand continuing up my arm and cupping my chin in a way that couldn’t be interpreted any other way. All I could think about was how they were so soft it was sinful, and the scorching heat from my flushed skin still felt cold in comparison to him.

“So, kiss me,” he dared, and I really believed that he meant it. Brown eyes burned through all of my defenses and doubts, leaving me nothing but an open book trapped by fingers that I bet were well versed in much more than flipping theoretical pages.

“C-Close your eyes,” I stuttered. He didn’t buy that there was any confidence behind the order for a second, but he followed the direction, nonetheless.

I missed those expressive eyes the second they were closed. I couldn’t dwell on the loss, though, because my thoughts were absolutely racing. There were a million warnings blaring through my ears and forcing my heart forward in my chest.

Kiss me, he’d said. He never said where.

And I was a coward, but a coward that hated to be bested. So, with every ounce of courage I could muster, I closed the gap between us, connecting with the scratchy surface of his cheek. The stubble tickled my lips in a way I knew I’d feel forever.

His fingers under my chin slipped from the surprise, and I heard the smallest little inhale when he’d realized what I’d done. If I’d stayed around longer, I’m pretty sure I would’ve seen him blush, too. But — as we’ve established — I am not a brave person in the slightest.

As soon as I pulled away, my feet carried me out of the room. The stunned silence that I fled from told me that there was a similar confusion about what had just happened over the abandoned coffee.

When I went back in a couple hours later to collect my cup and my shame, I noticed a berry missing from the branch.

My first kiss with Wes was, in a word, unforgettable. Literally. From the second it had happened, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. That damn peck on the cheek consumed my thoughts so much that it was hard even being in the same building as him, which made work basically unbearable. I suspected that my reaction was exactly the kind of thing that made him create the rule in the first place.

But still, I didn’t regret it... and I don’t think he did, either. If anything, he seemed even more content as we went about our normal routines together. He said nothing about it, except for one brief tease when he almost tricked me into getting stuck under the berries with a snake and the time he succeeded with a puppy. Although, he did make a rather cheeky comment about how it wasn’t fair the dog got a proper kiss. When I asked him to explain what about his kiss was improper, he just shook his head like I should already know.

Our dynamic was still just normal enough that I could have pretended the mistletoe mishap never happened, if not for one thing: the annual company holiday retreat. A weekend in which I would be trapped in a beautiful ski lodge resort with one of the most wonderful men I’d ever met, knowing full well what it felt like to kiss him.

Well, sort of. But that only made it worse, really. Knowing that I only barely knew; knowing it would probably be better when he could return the gesture with his own fervor.

I couldn’t think about it. Not while everyone we worked with sat beside us in arguably one of the most romantic atmospheres known to man. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. The softwood crackled and spit from its place within the brick, causing the smell of Christmas to drift through the room filled with laughter and copious amounts of alcohol.

I blamed the cursed liquid for the way my thoughts found their way back to the man sharing a loveseat with me. Surely, I thought, he knew what he was doing when he put himself next to the only girl in the room that he’d ever let kiss him. He must have known that his arm that rested over the back of the seat and hovered over my shoulder would drive my heart wild. My suspicions were confirmed when the limb would dip as he readjusted, inching almost imperceptibly closer to me while his fingers brushed over my shoulder.

When I finally moved to grab a blanket, I returned to find him close enough that he stole the other end of the fabric without even needing to ask. I swore I could feel his body heat but convinced myself it was just the glow of the wine I’d been downing in the hope it would grant me some courage to just talk to him.

Wes didn’t look at me, but he didn’t need to. I could tell by the way he smiled each time I looked up at him with wonder, wishing he’d do something more, that he knew the effect he had on me. I hated it. Because if I truly believed that he knew what he was doing, I had to ask myself another question...

Why the fuck wasn’t he doing anything about it?

The question plagued my thoughts for the entire four hours we spent together, only made worse by the way people left one by one until there were only three of us. That last person was the quickest to make their departure, and I tried not to feel guilty about how excited I was when they did leave the two of us alone.

But once it actually happened, I was struck by that same pesky, paralyzing fear. The two of us sat together, looking at each other and only barely escaping the other’s touch, and we were silent. The only sounds in the room were a crackling fire, the howling winds outside, and my frantic heartbeat trying to escape my chest.

“I guess I should get going, too,” I muttered, unable to think of anything else to say.

Wes’s eyes fell to my lips as the words made their way out, but that was only half as exhilarating as the way his hand that had been dangling over my shoulder dropped to fix my sleeve. That contact, no matter how slight, was enough to cause my eyes to flutter shut and a smile to grace my lips before he even so much as answered my threat to leave.

“You could stay a bit longer if you want,” he whispered in a voice much too inviting, “Have another glass of wine with me.”

“I could,” I hummed contently just before I took the last sip of my bittersweet drink. “But are you just suggesting, or are you asking me to?”

He chuckled, a gentle yet low sound that made goosebumps ripple down my arm in a path he soon after followed. Almost like he could see them underneath my clothing.

“I’m asking you to stay.”

I didn’t expect the words to make me as flushed as they did. The blood in my veins seemed almost uncontrollable, much like the fire still burning away in the background. But the sparks between our bodies were much more interesting.

The longer we stayed, the closer we became. After another hour of the two of us enjoying the atmosphere and company of no one but each other, we were tangled together so tightly under the blanket that I wondered how we’d manage to separate again. Despite already having been essentially sitting on his lap, Wes watched me cautiously as I set my wine glass down. That hand was the only part of me left that wasn’t wrapped around him, and I very much wanted to change that. Judging by the way he pulled me closer, I think he agreed that the move was necessary.

Still, he couldn’t let the desperation slide. Dragging a hand over the sliver of exposed skin of my thigh between the slit in my dress, Wes playfully mumbled, “By all means, make yourself comfortable.”

“I will, thanks,” I returned quickly.  

Continuing with the theme of rather rude callouts, Wes tightened his grip on my thigh as he drawled, “You seem very… touch starved.”

I didn’t reply because my throat closed the second his hand had started its ascent. He didn’t need any other response than the way my breath hitched and my nails dug into his shoulders.

“I don’t think you should be alone tonight.”

“Mmm. Is that your medical opinion?” I asked between nervous but happy giggles.

“It’s wishful thinking,” he answered before tacking on the most genuine plea I’d ever heard, “And me, hoping that you’ll stay with me.”

The advance was so blatant that I almost thought I’d imagined it. But the longer I let the silence sit, the stronger his eyes and hands pulled me in. He was only a couple inches from my face by the time I managed to croak out a response.

“I thought you had a rule about not dating coworkers.”

“That’s a stupid rule,” he said so quickly that I had to accept he’d been waiting for me to mention it, “Let’s break it.”

Still stuck in a disbelieving daze, I narrowed my eyes like that would let me see into his soul easier. As if it wasn’t already displayed so openly before me. “You’re very easily persuaded,” I muttered.  

“I can play hard to get if you want me to,” he responded without pause.  

But we both knew I didn’t want that. I wanted nothing more than I wanted this- than I wanted him. My body was practically begging for his touch, my muscles already starting to tremble from anticipation. The signs became more obvious the closer our faces became. When our noses bumped into one another, I almost closed my eyes. But I didn’t want to just yet. We were stuck in the most torturous game of chicken I’d ever experienced, scrutinizing each particle of air that dared stay suspended between us and stopped us from giving into everything we wanted.

I didn’t kiss him. Not even on the cheek this time. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to, it was because I knew once our lips connected, there would be no letting go of him. I turned away at the last second, but Wes stayed, his lips brushing over my cheek before he dragged his cheek against mine in a way that was arguably even more intimate than any kiss we might have shared.

“Hmm. There’s no mistletoe here,” I whispered into his ear.

Wes chuckled, and I felt it more than heard it as the hot breath burst over my ear. “I think there might be some in the bedroom,” he suggested with a hunger burning through the words.

“Really?” I asked with a sarcastic little gasp that was made worse by the kisses he started peppering over my jaw. “Will you show me?”  

There was no time left to waste. With those four words I’d given him everything he needed to understand just how easily he could have me. We scrambled up from the couch with a teenager-like level of excitement, stumbling through the communal areas making way too much noise and not caring who heard.

He held my hand the whole way out into the snow and through the wintry mix to the cabin he was staying in. Even once we were safe from the storm outside, he didn’t let me go. His hands just moved, spinning me around and grabbing hold of the zipper on the back of my dress with absolutely no hesitation. In any other situation, I would have chastised him for rushing it, but in that moment I was grateful that he wanted me as badly as I wanted him. Even with quick hands working the fabric off my shoulders, I couldn’t get in his bed fast enough.

And he didn’t let me, either. His hand was heavy on my shoulder, and when he needed to move it, he simply wound it through my hair. With that grip, he tilted my head to the side to bare my neck to him. The reason why became obvious within seconds, as his mouth connected with the skin with feverish kisses that nearly brought me to my knees.

While I did manage to stay upright, I certainly wasn’t silent. I couldn’t have stopped the moan that spilled from my lips even if I’d wanted to. It filled the room alongside the sloppy sounds as he continued to suck and nip at the sensitive skin until I almost delirious with a lack of oxygen from singing his praises.

“Interesting…” he mumbled, clearly mocking my unescapable responses from his efforts.

“Shut up,” I whined, tilting my neck to grant him better access despite my feeble protest.

I should have known better than to think him being quiet would prevent him from torturing me. He had the same idea, nipping at my earlobe before breathily replying, “If it means I get to hear more of those noises, I will gladly find other things to do with my mouth.”

Deciding that his snark, while fun, was best reserved for another time, I fought against his grip in my hair just enough to spin back around to face him. His eyes were quick to appreciate the newly exposed skin, blocked only by thin lace that revealed just how much I’d wished this would happen. While he took his time memorizing what he saw, I was already working at the buttons on his shirt.

It wasn’t until I got to his pants that he snapped back to the present, grabbing my wrist and positioning my hand over the obvious bulge underneath the fabric I’d wanted to free him from. That little action alone brought a smile to my face, and I looked up at him to see the desire painted over his features just like I’d imagined so many times. His other hand grabbed hold of my face with enough pressure to ignite a spark deep inside of me.

“Can you feel what you do to me?” he asked lowly. I wasn’t given a chance to respond with words, not with him kissing me seconds later, but I granted him an answer in the form of my fingers stroking him through his pants until his own moan broke through our still joined mouths.

“Fuck... I want you so bad,” he groaned just before he shoved me back away from him. I let the momentum carry me onto the bed, spreading out among the sheets and enjoying how much better they felt knowing he would join me there shortly.

“I’ve been waiting forever for a chance to get you alone,” he admitted with an undeniable honesty. I felt it in the way he practically tore his pants off and crawled on top of me within seconds.

“What’re you going to do now that you have me?” I purred. As if the answer wasn’t already obvious.

“Make sure you never want to leave,” he explained as he dragged fingertips over the curve of the fabric that remained in his way. Before I could tell him that he’d already succeeded, he demonstrated just how unfinished his answer was. His fingers worked underneath me and popped my bra open with a skill that even surprised me.

Lowering his mouth and tugging the material away at the same time, he chuckled as my skin perked at the feel of his hot breath brushing over it.

“And I’m going to make sure…” he started before he fondled me with an almost bruising grip, “that everyone knows who you belong to.”

Just like that, he took the pebbled peak into his mouth. The gentle suckling was nothing compared to the way his tongue expertly explored the impressive area he managed to cover. I had a similar reaction to when he’d let that dastardly mouth leave marks all over my neck, and I could feel the smirk on his face as he continued through all of my dramatic cries.

My hands tugging on his hair did nothing to stop him. He continued with his persistent marking across my chest, teasing me every few movements by taking in the sensitive center of my breasts for just a few seconds before he shifted to another spot.

I didn’t look down, simply because I was already on the brink of insanity just from feeling alone, but I knew that I would find a number of angry marks in his wake. It was by design, too. He made it clear with each not-so-gentle love bite over my shoulder and neck as he worked his way back up to my lips. Even then, he took my bottom lip into his mouth and bit down on the supple skin already bruised from being worried between my own teeth.

“I love how fucking sweet you are,” he growled, and I couldn’t tell if he’d meant it literally or was merely referencing my demeanor, but I decided it simply didn’t fucking matter. All that mattered was being able to feel him more. Wes must have agreed, because no sooner had the thought hit me than his fingers hooked under the elastic of my underwear and began a torturously slow descent. Even then, he took the time to leave teeth marks and bruises along my thighs.

I knew once he’d started coming back up that he would take yet another detour, but we both decided that it was one worth taking. Sure enough, once he lined back up at my hips, he stopped. His breath against me felt cold compared to the heat I felt inside, and a chill shot through my body and elicited yet another pitiful whine.

“You want to feel it here, too, don’t you?” he cooed, mocking the way my hips bucked against him, seeking out the kisses he was so willing to give.

“Please,” I squeaked. I hoped it would be enough to earn his mercy. Thankfully, it was.

His mouth was every bit as talented there as it was everywhere else. I tried to keep my sounds muffled, but it was the most fruitless effort I’d ever given. I was already practically sobbing from the way I could still feel him in every spot he’d left evidence of his praise, and he didn’t relent in the slightest. He was just as persistent and powerful in his worship, dragging his tongue through the slick folds and trying to feel me as deeply as he could. When his tongue couldn’t reach far enough for him, his fingers took its place.

The feeling of any part of him inside of me drove me mad with lust. My body was moving outside of my control, and I honestly didn’t know how he managed to breathe once my legs wrapped around his shoulders. My hands were rooted firmly in his hair, trying to hold on to reality for just a few seconds longer before I let it all go.

I almost expected to see him staring back at me with that daring, flirtatious stare, but when I looked down, his eyes were closed. I wasn’t upset by it, because I quickly realized that it meant I could watch him without scrutiny or judgment.

And I did. I watched each muscle on his face twitch and tense as he continued his ministrations even when it should have been impossible. I could see the sweat on his brow and the red tinge to his cheeks as he chose me instead of air. And when he did take a breath, I felt that, too.

“Wes,” I finally let myself cry out, “Wes, please. I’m so close.”

Brown eyes opened to reveal a smile hiding behind them. His mouth was too busy to try, but I could practically hear the smug chuckle that was hidden as a content humming against my skin. Luckily for him, I was not at all in the right mind to call him out. Not when he was so busy destroying any semblance of dignity or self-preservation I had left.

So, when Wes left his eyes open and straining to look up at me, I met them for as long as I could. But the sounds of sex and his smothered moans forced me over the edge. The orgasm I’d been battling to prolong hit me so quickly that I didn’t even have time to call his name one more time.

He didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t even particularly seem to notice. He was simply too busy continuing the quick, rough thrusting of his fingers and the harsh suckling at my crest to do anything else.

But when the white light and euphoria faded into a manageable haze, his eyes were still locked on mine. He waited until I could hold that gaze for a few uninterrupted seconds before he finally withdrew, leaving me a soaked, twitching mess beneath him. I wondered if it looked as pathetic as it felt, but I also didn’t care. Because even as my muscles rioted against any conscious movement, I still wanted more.

Wes agreed, or at least I hoped that was why he had returned to kissing up my abdomen and chest. Once his lips found mine again, still covered with me, I must have looked absolutely out of my mind. Still, he didn’t look at me like a disaster. Just a little bit helpless.

“It’s okay if you need to stop,” he offered with grace and only a little bit of mockery, “I’ve put you through a lot tonight.”

“No, roll over,” was my almost incoherent response. If he didn’t understand it, the context of me struggling an incredible and embarrassing amount, surely helped. Unfortunately for my pride, it also made him laugh.

“Oh, you are just too cute. Look at you.”

I glanced down at his instruction, spotting what he was referring to immediately. My legs shook with every attempted movement, making them all as clumsy and uncoordinated as ever. But that wasn’t enough to stop me, and Wes didn’t seem to care as much as he acted, because as soon as I knocked into him, he fell back among the pillows with ease.

“I can do it,” I whined through his laughter, “I want to do it, please.”

For all of my begging, I was rendered speechless seconds later at the sight before me. Wes’s hair was wild among the pillows, and his half-lidded, lust-filled eyes looked just as beautiful as I thought they would. The pillows propped him up just enough to put us on almost equal playing ground, and he ensured that I wouldn’t get a swelled head with his arm around my waist pulling me down to him.

“You tell me when you can’t handle it anymore, alright?” he whispered, and I felt the genuineness behind the tone. That soft, compassionate demeanor that I saw him utilize every day at work. I never expected him to look at me like something to be cared for, but now that I’d had it, I wanted nothing more than to see it every day for the rest of my life.

That look didn’t fade even when I reached between us and guided him to my entrance. It only got stronger the deeper he pressed into me. With every inch, I felt closer to him in a sense past the physical. The subtle changes in his expression revealed sides of him I’d never seen, and I loved each of them more than I thought was possible.

“Shit,” he hissed, his hands finding my hips and trying to hold them steady to prevent his bucking hips from forcing me past my limit. His body’s hypocritical actions spurred me forward, though, and with both of my hands over his, I finally forced myself down to be fully seated on him with a broken cry that only barely resembled his name.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” the man underneath me answered just before he buried his mouth on my neck once more. That didn’t stop him from talking, though. He’d taken the time to read exactly what kind of woman I was, and so he knew what I needed to drive me even wilder than he already had. “Keep going, baby,” he sighed, “You’re doing so well.”

And as much as I appreciated the praise, which was a lot, I also couldn’t help but think about the consequences of his actions that I’d let slide thus far. When he latched onto a very visible spot on my neck, I managed to whimper between the moans, “Wes, I’m gonna have to wear a turtleneck for a fucking month.”

It managed to distract him from his current ministrations just long enough that his spiteful little laughter filled the room. Pulling back to draw my attention back to those cruelly beautiful eyes, he smugly answered, “You fucking love it.”

He was right. I did love it, but I also knew that it was a dangerous game to say the least. My pace slowed to a gentle rocking in his lap. It was partially out of fear that the encounter was coming to an inevitable conclusion, but also because I wanted to see him clearer. I was fascinated and entranced by the way the pleasure showed on his face.

“I thought you wanted to keep romance out of the office.”

To my surprise, he didn’t debate the romance aspect of the tryst, instead focusing on the latter half as he answered with a shrug, “We aren’t in the office.”

As if to prove his point, Wes held my hips down before thrusting up roughly. I cried out with nails digging into his shoulders. After all, if he got to leave marks, then I should be able to, too! He took the time to tilt his head to the side and lay a gentle kiss onto my forearm, but then continued with his previous demeanor.

He’d abandoned the plan to mark every inch of my skin with his mouth in favor of kissing me. His hands took over for him, pressing angry crescent marks and bruises in the shape of his fingers over my hips that he brought down on him at a brutal pace.

But as much as I loved kissing him, I couldn’t fight the urge for revenge stirring in my chest. He’d teased me so much so far, it was only fair that I got a chance to return his sarcastic quips with my own. And considering how much he loathed the idea of interwork relationships, I knew exactly how to get back at the resident veterinarian who insisted on not bringing sex into work.

I’d bring the work, instead.

Throwing my head back and forcing his lips to meet my neck once more, I let out one last whorish moan before I cried, “Oh, Doc, you feel so good!”

The affectionate nickname earned another dark laugh from the man whose force only grew as he realized what I was doing. His teeth sunk into already bruised skin, and he dragged them over the swollen skin before he growled, “Fucking brat.”

He could feel the laughter in my throat, but silenced it with a hand gripping me by the scruff so tightly that I actually lost my breath.

“Keep running that mouth and see where it gets you.”

“You can hurt me, Doctor,” I purred, earning another merciless thrust, “And you can fix me up after, too.”

“What makes you think I’d want to fix you after?” he whispered, letting his fingers brush over his marks and apply pressure to each of them just to watch me squirm in response. The more that I moved, the quicker his motions became. Soon enough, his hand had made it all the way down to the space between our thighs, and he locked eyes with me once more.

“Maybe I like you better when you’re broken.”

The pure force, the undeniable truth behind those words did exactly what he wanted. They broke me. All of the tension in my body shattered. I fell forward onto him, and Wes caught me without any hesitation. His hips never once faltered, and his lips alternated between gentle kisses against my temple and soft sounds made directly into my ear.

It was not the broken I was expecting to be, but one that was far more devastating. I felt so overwhelmed, so lost in the sensations he created within me, that when I became cognizant again, I didn’t even want to move from the blatantly intimate embrace. I just clung to him, burying myself in his arms and trusting that he would keep me safe from everything else.

“Not so talkative anymore, are you?”

I didn’t even have the strength to answer, but I knew he already knew what I would have said. There was no denying it. He took my defeat without any sympathy, continuing with his playful ridicule even as he used my body for whatever he needed.

“Are you tired? Have you had your fill?”

The noise I returned was more akin to a whimper than a moan, and he took it as my last attempt at defying his tongue-in-cheek attempts at authority. At that, his touch grew more possessive. His hips worked harder, and his hands slammed me down onto him hard enough that my whole body shook from the impact.

“That’s too bad if you’re tired, because I’m not finished marking you yet,” he chuckled darkly in my ear. I could still hear him over the sounds of rushing blood, but I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see anything as I let the feeling of pure, unadulterated pleasure consume me one final time.

“Mine,” Wes cried, sinking his teeth into my shoulder before he growled, “You’re fucking mine.”

I felt what he meant in every sense of the word. I was his, to hold and bruise and break. I was his because he laid claim to every part of me that he pleased, with his teeth and fingers imprinted in my skin surrounded by mottled marks. He wrote his name with petechiae that he wrapped around my neck so I would never forget how easily he could have taken me. How easily I would have let him.

It seemed inconsequential in comparison, to feel the way his release filled me in a way I’d never let any man do before. I hadn’t even really thought about it, because I’d already given myself to him. And when I lolled my head over to look at him, I found a bliss in his expression that I would give anything to see repeated every time I closed my eyes.

It felt like home, tangled in the cabin with damp skin and tired eyes. We stayed exactly like that, still connected in more ways than one, for as long as we could. We let the residual heat from our fast beating hearts and frantic breath keep us content until the mountain air still creeping through the cabin became too much to bear.

Leaving him was hard, but necessary. I stared at my body in the mirror and found myself admiring all of the new additions he’d left behind. The evidence that it hadn’t been some wild, wine-induced dream. He’d touched me and held me and had me to his heart’s content.

I wasn’t sure what would happen when I returned to his bed. I knew I would either find myself heartbroken or happy, and just wanted to let it happen. Of course, Wes had to continue on his trend of being unpredictable. He welcomed me back under the covers with his arm extended. It wrapped around me in seconds, dragging me closer to him again.

I’d suspected it was just to keep warm, but then he pulled his other hand from under the covers to reveal what he’d been hiding. Dangling from his finger was a delicate piece of lace that we’d so carelessly thrown on the floor before.

We both laughed as I snatched the underwear from him. The longer it took me to put them back on, the more hilarious Wes found my struggle. But soon enough we were tied up together again, with my head resting against his chest where I could hear his heart’s gentle rhythm.

“You know, I really shouldn’t stay here,” I mumbled, drawing patterns over his arm.

Wes put an end to the action and the idea, grabbing hold of my hand and bringing it to his lips for yet another round of what seemed like endless kisses.

“It is quite a risk, isn’t it?” he said in the most unconvincing voice I’d ever heard.

“There’s bound to be talk tomorrow,” I murmured back.  

A smile crept over cheeks still pink from our escapades, and Wes just shook his head at the familiar old excuse. Playing along with the hopeless romantic he pulled closer, he drawled back, “But baby, it’s cold outside.”

Despite my giggles, I broke character of the timid, modest woman that we both knew I wasn’t and said through a pout, “It such a long, cold walk back to my room, though.”

“You should probably stay here, then, huh?” he returned. Our faces drifted closer, his arm around my waist urging me forward and supporting our terrible decisions.

Once our lips touched again, tenderly and tired, I reminded myself of the mistletoe and how right I was that it was so much better when he could kiss me back. Even when I tried to pull away, he followed me, stealing one more kiss before I happily concluded, “Baby, it’s cold outside.”

(Tell me what you thought of this piece here!)

[lepusrufus]

To bargain for immortality pt.4

The first thing to come to her conscious mind as soon as she woke up were always the faint distant sounds of her home. Faint, as not only was Cassandra's bedroom on one of the higher floors, but any staff members knew better than to make noise while their mistresses were sleeping. Distant barking made its way past a window left ajar, accompanied by scribbling noises.

Nicole turned around, legs tangled in the blanket that was shared until not long ago, to look for a colder spot warranted by the warm May weather. The realization that she was alone in bed made its way through the haze still remaining from sleep. That, in itself, was not unusual as Cassandra almost always woke up first and busied herself with something while waiting for her to wake up.

"Cassandra?" She called out quietly, voice still groggy with sleep and eyes not even bothering to open.

"Just a moment," came her response from the other side of the room, likely the desk, as the scratchy sound of pencil on paper stopped.

The chair was pushed away and a handful of steps took Cassandra to the door, where a maid was waiting outside as per routine. After a couple hushed instructions, the door clicked shut again and she finally approached the bed, looking down at her wife with fondness. She bent down to leave a kiss on top of messy auburn hair.

"Good morning."

Her answer came in the form of a returned kiss and impatient tug of her hand, that she gladly indulged by sitting down on top of the soft cushions that she had priorly abandoned. Nicole wasted no time in wrapping an arm around her waist and nuzzling into her side, happy to feel the cool skin underneath a thin grey robe. Cassandra decided that her wife seemed awake enough to receive news, despite the obvious refusal to even crack an eye open.

"Bela wants to go into town later and asked if we'd like to come."

There they were, emerald eyes finally open and staring up at her in surprise.

"Did you say yes?"

Cassandra scoffed. "And finally get the chance to go out and stretch my legs after being locked up in the castle for all winter? Absolutely not."

That got her an eye roll. "In that case I'll keep on sleeping through the whole evening," Nicole said, pretending to go back to the dream she had just left unfinished, something the mild tiredness that had settled in her body seemed more than happy about.

"Oh no you don't."

Two strong hands gripped her shoulders and shifted her into Cassandra's lap, thin lips intoxicatingly close to her ear. "I even prepared the perfect outfits for the two of us, I simply cannot believe you'd pass up this opportunity for some extra sleep."

Nicole laughed at the feign offense, voice finally clear and free from the morning raspiness. She stretched her arms upwards with a few satisfying pops and then let her hands rest on Cassandra's shoulders.

"My, that's so thoughtful of you," she said, leaving a soft kiss on her lips. "Good morning."

The moment was kindly interrupted by a curt knock on the heavy door. Nicole groaned and moved back on the bed, pulling a nightgown that certainly did not belong to her loosely over her shoulders. When she was covered enough to not put on a show, Cassandra chuckled and addressed the still closed door.

"Come in."

A young woman entered the room, one of the latest additions to the kitchen staff as per Cynthia's request, with a tray expertly balanced in one hand, while the other held the leash of one of the thankfully well behaved hounds.

"Eris!" Nicole greeted the black dog, who snapped its big brown eyes in her direction and started wagging its tail. Thankfully for the girl holding the leash, the dog was expertly trained and did not lunge away to its owners. Instead it followed along, not tugging on the leash until both were just by the bed.

"Breakfast, my ladies."

A small assortment of drinks, together with a plate were placed from the silver tray to the small table on Cassandra's side. One wine glass was filled with fresh crimson blood, a cup of hot tea was sitting right beside it, steam rising up from the liquid inside and, in the smaller cup, dark coffee. On the plate, a freshly baked croissant and a small assortment of berries were waiting invitingly.

"And Eris, as you requested."

The girl held up the leash, but Cassandra simply waved a dismissive hand. "Just let her go. And leave the leash on my desk."

She did as was instructed, unhooking the leash with a soft metal click and placing it, coiled up neatly, on the carefully polished wood of the desk. Then, with a slight bow, she left the two alone once again.

Nicole didn't acknowledge that, too busy patting the spot by her side for the black hound to jump up. Cassandra opened her mouth to protest, but was a second too late as the dog was already in her wife's lap getting head and neck scratches. She sighed. At least all the hounds were kept squeaky clean outside hunting sessions.

"Stop spoiling our hunting dogs."

"Oh darling don't worry, I have no power over Carolina's training," she emphasized by snapping a finger and pointing it to the far side or the bed, direction that the dog followed dutifully, curling up on top of a folded blanket. "Good girl," she cooed at the furry beast, which elicited a tail wag.

Cassandra shook her head with a small smile tugging at her lips. She passed the small coffee cup to her wife, who took a tentative sip to test the temperature. It was lukewarm, as it always was, the routine of all the family ingrained into each and every staff member to the dot. They knew how Nicole liked her coffee, what tea to pair with any kind of breakfast and, probably most important for their sake, exactly how much blood, down to the milliliter, Cassandra liked to drink in the morning. Well, early evening, but who kept track.

The bitter liquid was downed in mere seconds, the taste accompanied by a sour grimace. Nicole did not like coffee in the slightest, having lost any possible appetite for the bitter taste after drinking one too many, or a thousand too many, cups during her days in med school. Unfortunately, it still did its job of waking her up, so a compromise with a sweet cup of fruity tea right afterwards had to be made.

She passed the empty cup back to Cassandra, who replaced it with the tea.

"I have to say, seeing your face scrunched up in disgust every morning is most entertaining."

"Happy to see my attempt at waking up is enjoyable for you," she replied with a pointed look thrown over the porcelain edge of the mug.

The look however was replaced by a content sigh upon sipping on the tea, the prior bitter taste slowly replaced by a blissful blend of fruit and lavender. While their cook Cynthia was downright an expert at preparing all kinds of meat, human included, her biggest talent was creating the best blends of tea, never too overpowering but always with a balanced taste. At least according to Nicole, and she would hold that opinion to the day she died.

While waiting for the liquid to get to a more drinkable temperature, her attention went back to the dog now sprawled on its side. "Why did you ask for Eris?"

Cassandra took another long sip of her drink, far more elegant than one would expect from a woman who had no issue regularly walking around covered in blood. "I just thought we could bring her along, I know she's your favorite," she finished with a smirk.

"That's not true," Nicole quickly replied, as if she were a mother accused of having a favorite child, which only made Cassandra's grin grow wider. She cleared her throat in an attempt to save some face. "I love all our dogs equally, Eris is just… particularly well behaved, yes."

Her wife simply chuckled, not having bought any of her excuses for playing favorites. Not that Cassandra wasn't guilty of that either. Her first response to picking a favorite would be not unlike Nicole's, but she had a particular fondness for Freya, one of their Finnish hounds, who always seemed so eager to sniff out prey on the hunts. She would be lying to say that she didn't entertain the idea of asking her mother to infect some of their best dogs from time to time, their short lives feeling like blinks of an eye compared to her own immortality.

She placed the now empty glass back on the table, not quite as graceful as her mother always did after a meal. They had plenty of time, so getting up was not yet in either of their schedules.

"Are we going somewhere in particular, or just out for a stretch," Nicole asked in between sips.

"Bela has to pick something up and Dani, surprising to precisely no one, wants to visit the bookshop," Cassandra started with a slight eye roll, leaning on her side on top of the cushions and starting to toy with the hem of Nicole's sleeve. "Since we're doing none of that boring stuff, I thought you'd like to choose."

Nicole tapped a finger of the white rim of her mug, nail making a soft clink. She sighed. "Just a walk around town, I'm really dying to get out too."

"You do realize you're not confined to the castle during winter like I am right," Cassandra laughed.

"And leave my beloved wife all alone while I go out and about," her reply was overly dramatic, complete with a hand gingerly placed over her heart almost as if such an idea was close to blasphemous. It only gained her a small snort.

"Should I remind you that I've spent decades in this castle? I promise I can bear it."

Okay, grandma.

With the tea finally gone, Nicole placed the tall mug on the nightstand closest to her, effectively freeing her hands. Free to trace tender fingers up Cassandra's arm, her neck and around the intricate lace of her choker to toy with the fine chains decorating it.

"You sure about that?" Her voice was sickly sweet, all too aware of her unbeatable talent of making someone as sadistic as her wife melt with little more than a hushed tone and gentle hands.

Cassandra did not respond right away. She was nothing if not a prideful person and admitting to the fact that yes, she would miss her, even for a handful of hours, was not particularly high on her list of things to be said out loud. It was almost an unbearably clingy kind, their relationship. Or at least that's what someone who did not know better would say. Truth be told, they were both the kind of people that looked almost desperately, although a desperation worn with odd grace, for comfort in other people. People they would then fight tooth and nail, or more accurately fang and claw, to keep close. It was obvious in the way Cassandra took on the role as protector of the family, nevermind the fact that Alcina would cut any possible threats to pieces before any of them had time to lift a finger. Obvious, also in the way she was so protective over Nicole herself, the beautifully engraved dagger always strapped to the redhead’s side either under a lab coat or at the belt of a dress rendered little more than a fancy accessory.

Cassandra chuckled, wrapping long fingers around her hand and taking it away from her necklace. "Why don't we get dressed before Bela comes to nag at us mm?" Then black lips were gingerly pressed to the skin, leaving a small kiss on top of bony knuckles.

With a shrug and a less than gracious stretch accompanied by a yawn, Nicole got out from under the covers, the red velvety fabric of the robe flowing after her like an impromptu cape.

"Are you wearing my robe," Cassandra's voice came from behind her, together with hands placed on her waist.

Duh.

Not that Cassandra ever truly complained. Finding the oversized clothing her wife often wore quite endearing.

"It does look quite charming on me you have to admit."

"You're practically swimming in it."

Nicole rolled her eyes which only prompted a small laugh.

They fixed themselves enough to be semi presentable for the small distance that separated the bedroom and the dressing room. Nicole was about to suggest wearing something more casual, but the fact that going out for the first time after the long winter months was almost reason for a small celebration for all three of the Dimitrescu sisters made her shut down that train of thought. No harm in being fancy on occasion after all.

The outfits Cassandra had picked out were nothing short of perfect for the occasion. Matching black dresses, Nicole's a tad lighter with a lacy collar and frilly hems complete with a white vest-like corset, while Cassandra's was made out of a thicker fabric and went down almost to the floor, surely due to her tendency to get cold easily.

Not being the kind that lingered in the dressing room too long, that was more Daniela's style, it took little for them to get dressed. The occasional helping hand for small things that one could maybe twist and turn to do themselves, but why bother when you have a perfectly willing to help spouse, was something they both enjoyed and took a couple extra precious moments to let a hand linger or fingers to trace expertly done sems. After some makeup was applied and the leash was hooked back to Eris' collar, they finally made their way downstairs.

They were close to fashionably late it seemed, as Bela, Daniela and Anita were already waiting in the main hall, the eldest throwing a miffed expression their way upon seeing them descend the grand staircase.

Nicole noticed the absence of one of their usual party members. "Isn't Laura coming with us?"

"She had to go to Donna's this morning. Spring preparations and all," Bela's reply came dangerously close to being accompanied by an uncharacteristic pout.

Oh. Someone's in a sour mood.

They made their way down the stone paved road that connected the castle to the town in relative silence, interrupted only once by Bela telling them when they would meet up to head back home. Other than that, they just enjoyed the short walk. And for good reason, the road was surrounded by beautiful rose bushes on both sides, with pine trees expanding beyond them and the sounds of birds and nocturnal animals beginning to wake up blending together in a quiet murmur so typical to the forest.

Once in the town square under the familiar angel statue, Bela wordlessly left them in favor of making her way down a small street. Daniela and Anita seemed more courteous and said their goodbyes and see-you-laters as they turned around, chattering about something only they understood.

Left alone, with their dog whose leash was attached to the same belt Cassandra's sickle was, they started walking down the quiet streets. It was almost sundown, so even the small crowd of people usually going about their business was almost non-existent, knowing better than to be out at night without good reason.

Something that Nicole was yet to grow bored of, even after a few years spent at the castle, was the small architectural oddities around town. It looked quite regular, albeit old, at first glance but a closer look would reveal the rich symbolism resulting from the centuries of being quite literally broken off from the rest of the world and almost frozen in time.

The go to flowers planted in front of buildings were crimson roses, the familiar patterns of swirling vines and leaves engraved into walls and lamp posts. A bakery they passed by had three sickles hanging behind the glass, complementing the harvest theme the entire shop had, together with dried wheat in vases and warm inviting colors on the walls. The one fishery that everyone in town knew had a mermaid gracefully swimming in a panel just above its entrance and horseshoes were nailed to most doors leading to houses or small apartment buildings. Even a toy store had a suspiciously Angie-like doll, although without the cracks and signs of time its original counterpart sported, looking out at any passersby.

One thing that could never go unnoticed however, were the crows. Statues of the birds, big or small, could be seen anywhere, from street corners to rooftops and atop building entrances. Some had their wings spread out, ready to take flight were they not trapped by stone bodies, others had their bills open wide in a silent croak and some were simply looking on. Real crows were also incredibly common, replacing the pigeons any other city had in favor of the black birds, ironically roosting on the statues of themselves quite often and kindly providing the city background noise with their caws. Nicole inquired about their presence once, and Cassandra had explained how the locals see crows as good luck, being a symbol to Mother Miranda. Many people fed them and even had buildings upon which small towers were erected with the purpose of giving the birds space to make nests.

Nicole had a strong suspicion that some of the birds were a little more than they let on, especially after seeing their so-called goddess break into a flock on multiple occasions. Sometimes, you would look at one of the crows perched on a power line connecting two buildings, and icy grey would stare back, the depth in those eyes far too human to belong to any bird.

Her slight glare towards one crow that seemed to look at them from a windowsill was interrupted by the memory of a small list she had tucked in her pocket before leaving.

"Oh, I need to pass by the pharmacy to pick up a few things we ran out of."

Cassandra simply shrugged. "Sure," and she looked around for a moment to find the street that would take them there fastest. Not like they had any plans other than enjoying the pseudo freedom that being out of the castle gave them.

The pharmacy was oh so conveniently located on the other side of town, adjacent to the hospital near the reservoir. Ever since Miranda had found ways to lessen the negative effects of his mutation, Moreau was the designated town doctor, but due to the still somewhat volatile transformations he was still mostly confined to the place and it's murky waters, a fact that he despised greatly. It was an obvious choice, then, to erect the hospital there. It was a small building not unlike the rest of the town's architecture when it came to size, no more than three floors high and with a small staff that Moreau himself had to teach the ins and outs of medical practice. If memory serves right, even Miranda and her assistants had taught some people particularly well versed in the sciences how to operate the equipment and patients alike. Medical training seemed to be hard to come by around here and Nicole had a gnawing suspicion that it was the reason she was still alive.

The building coming into view behind the trees and the paved road that cut through the small stretch of woods separating the town and reservoir looked oddly new in comparison to the rest, as it had been erected only a couple decades prior. Attached to it, a smaller house with matching tiles on the roof and a sign that read Farmacie above the entrance's double doors.

Dogs were normally not allowed inside, but who was going to stop them of all people from marching right in, black hound happily walking by their side. They were the only ones inside, save for a short woman sitting behind the counter, panic flashing in her eyes when her gaze fell on Cassandra's tall frame, hand in hand with Nicole who was at the moment too occupied with pulling out the list of meds she had written. She gave it a once over and, sure that she had everything down, passed the paper to the pharmacist, who knew better than to ask if she had any prescriptions.

"You could've sent someone to fetch these for you," Cassandra said, eyes following the woman as she disappeared behind tall shelves full of small boxes and pill bottles.

"I know, I just didn't want to wait. I don't like running out of supplies," Nicole shrugged.

Plus, Nicole was way less likely to be questioned on why she's buying twenty different kinds of meds than a random maid. Partly because the pharmacist recognized her and partly because any sane person here knew better than not obliging when Cassandra was looming behind her. A small smirk graced her lips at the thought and a sly look was given to her wife, who was too busy playing with the dog's floppy ears to notice. Eris raised her head at the unforgivable offense, playfully trying to nip at the gloved hands that were tickling her, getting a giggle out of the brunette.

All three were distracted by the soft clink of a bell hanging above the door, indicating that someone had entered the pharmacy. It was an older man, looking to be in his sixties, heavily leaning on a crutch held in his right hand.

Cassandra's features morphed into a scowl and Nicole could practically hear the man-thing going through her mind. The man was probably on the verge of doing a complete one eighty and exit the pharmacy, when a voice called out from behind the counter.

"Ah Andrei, I have something for that infection of yours, hold on a moment," the pharmacist called out, before handing Nicole a sizable paper bag full of what she had requested.

She felt an unwelcomed whiff of decay as Cassandra took the bag from her hands, and sniffled in an attempt to ward off the stinging sensation in her nose. She fumbled with the credit card, mentally cursing the payment for not transferring quicker when the smell was starting to make her eyes water the slightest bit.

"Is everything alright my lady?"

The man's voice, full of genuine worry came from behind them, having moved closer upon the pharmacist's urging, and the putrid stench of death and decomposition flooded Nicole's senses together with the slick sensation of blood running down her face. She had to force down a gag as she shoved the card back into a pocket and all but ran out the door, worried wife in toe.

"Nicole what-" Cassandra swallowed any words she had at the sight of the blood flowing down and staining the until moments before immaculate white of her wife's corset.

Nicole made her way to a corner of the building that nobody seemed to go to, and leaned against the wall, eyes squeezed shut and trying to ward off the lightheadedness.

For someone who spent years working on dead bodies in various stages of decomposition, one would think that the smell of death did not bother her. And it didn't. But this was different, the stench seeming to make its way into her skin and clinging to her senses, coating her throat as if trying to choke her out in the most disgusting way possible. Not to mention that there was no actual dead body around.

She coughed out the blood that didn't make its way out of her nostrils and instead decided to go the throat route. Her hands were a crimson mess and so were her face and dress, a pang of guilt shooting through her for having ruined the outfit picked by Cassandra. At least the bleeding seemed to stop and so did the horrid stench.

Cassandra didn't seem to care, nor even notice, the ruined fabric. Instead she pulled out a handkerchief from a pocket and started to gently wipe the blood away from pale skin.

"What's wrong?" She asked and Nicole could only shake her head.

"I don't know. I don't know why this keeps happening," she almost ran her hands down her face in frustration but had enough clarity of mind to remember how dirty they were. "I thought it would go away, and for a while it did. I don't understand what the hell is wrong with me," she added, voice rising the slightest bit.

Cassandra grimaced, trying to get her face clean. "We can talk to Mother when we get back."

A defeated sigh made its way past bloody lips. Nicole had her doubts that Alcina would know any more than them on the situation, which was nothing. They knew nothing.

She grabbed Cassandra's hand to steady herself back on her feet, mind drifting to what she didn't want to think was her only solution.

If there was anyone who could get to the end of this, it was Mother Miranda.

[alch3mic]

Hello!! I love!! Your writing and art so much! If you have time and if it's okay, could we get,,, a spicy prince,,? //7//💦

“A magic spell?”

“MHM! ONE THAT WILL MAKE YOU FEEL ALL BETTER!”

A quiet moment passed as you stared down Prince with a furrowed brow, taking in his sweet smile and gentle eyelights while his thumb gently ghosted around the edge of your chin. It was still early in the morning, yet he already had his charms turned up all the way to eleven as you sat at a small table near the balcony.

Eggs, bacon, pastries, and a fine selection of drinks were all laid out for you two to share, with your ever favorite coffee also making it’s grand appearance to fight away the slumber still gnawing away at your insides. 

Too bad the world seemed out to get you today as you managed to burn your lip on the piping hot liquid, capturing your boyfriend’s attention as you sucked in a painful breath before setting your cup down. Now he was turned to you, his gaze just as tender as his touch as he seemed to committee all of your features to memory, from your slightly frazzled hair to the way you fidgeted a bit when his thumb brushed past your slightly burned lip.

You could spot it right away though. 

That something. 

It lingered in the very edge of his eyesocket and creeped in at the edge of his perfectly charming smile, hanging on to his every word as he said he knew ‘just the thing’ to make you feel all better.

That’s exactly why you knew he was...

“....Suspicious.”

“HUH? ME?” he asked, his expression not even faltering as he removed his hand from your chin to place over his chest. “AH, YOU WOUND ME MY DEAR! AS IF I DON’T ONLY HAVE THE BEST INTENTIONS FOR MY BELOVED!”

“Ahuh,” you said, crossing your arms, now eyeing him even more warily. “I’m vaguely recalling you said that last time too.”

“HMM?” he hummed playfully, feigning ignorance for a moment as he looked thoughtful. “YOU COULDN'T POSSIBLY REFERRING TO WHEN YOU AND I-”

“Yes!” you interrupted him, feeling your face flare up as you attempted to swat at him. “That! That thing! The thing we were both there for so there’s no reason to say it aloud!”

Oh sometimes you really hated how cute this skeleton was, especially as he laughed while lightly grabbing your wrist, bringing your hand closer to his face to gently pepper with kisses.

“I’M NOT TEASING YOU THIS TIME,” he said lowly, pressing another kiss to your knuckles. “PROMISE.”

“Bullshit,” you returned bluntly, receiving a small sputter and much more genuine wheeze from Prince.

“OOF! OUCH! YOU’RE SO HARSH, ANGEL!” he laughed, “WHAT? DON’T YOU TRUST M-”

“I do.”

....

Another quiet moment took hold over you both. That ever charming smile always present on your loving boyfriend’s face disappeared to a small look of surprise at your lack of hesitance in answering that. He studied you again, only this time with a certain carefulness that hung in his eyestocket, seeming to wait for.. something.

Maybe for you to take that statement back?

Well, you weren’t. It was true.

“I do trust you,” you said firmly, taking your hand from his grasp and placing it on his cheek. 

He softened at your touch, leaning into your hand for a moment as you smiled at him.... before you firmly pinched his surprisingly soft cheek.

“..Which is exactly why I know you are up to something.”

“MWEHEHEH, I GUESS THERE’S NO POINT IN HIDING IT HUH?” he chuckled as you let go of his cheek. “..ANY CHANCE I COULD STILL GET YOU TO PLAY ALONG THOUGH? PROMISE IT’S WORTH YOUR WHILE.”

“My better judgement tells me I shouldn’t,” you mumbled, once again crossing your arms as he deflated a little. “..but I just can’t seem to resist that cute face of yours, so fine.”

His face instantly lit up again as he scooted just a bit closer.

“THEN MY DEAR, WOULD YOU CLOSE YOUR EYES FOR ME?”

You shot you cute skeleton one more suspicious glance before complying and closing your eyes. 

“NOW,” he hummed softly, “THIS SPELL ONLY WORKS IF YOU MEAN IT, SO BE SURE TO SPEAK FROM THE SOUL, OKAY?”

“Okay.”

“THEN REPEAT AFTER ME...”

His fingers gently brushed away some of your hair from your face, making you scrunch a bit as you waited for his instructions.

“I...” he began.

“I..” you repeated.

“...LOVE YOU.”

You barely managed to swallow back a giggle as a smile took hold on your face.

“Love you!”

As soon as those words left your mouth, his kissed you. 

It was so soft and sweet it hardly irritated your hurt lip, and instead you found yourself leaning into it some more before he pulled away.

“...Well, I do appreciate the kiss but I didn’t really help my lip feel better,” you said, peeking an eye open at him.

“THAT’S BECAUSE THERE’S ONE MORE STEP MY DEAR! YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT THESE MORE COMPLICATED SPELLS REQUIRE MULTIPLE STEPS,” he smiled, booping your nose. “NOW PLEASE KEEP YOUR EYES CLOSED.

“Okay, okay.” you chuckled before closing your eyes again.

“NOW REPEAT AFTER ME!”

“Mhm..”

“PLEASE..”

“Please..”

“TAKE A BITE!”

“Take... a... wha-AHH!”

You didn’t get a chance to finish as Prince leaned in close, tickling your ear with a small puff of cool air that sent goosebumps trailing all over your arms. In an instant your eyes flew open as you attempted to scrunch yourself up defensively.

“Oh, you better no-OW!” 

You squawked as he bit on to your earlobe with his fangs before laughing, blowing another puff of cool air into your ear.

“Ah! I knew it! I knew you were up to-GYAH!” you shouted as he bit down again. “You scoundrel!”

“BUT YOUR LIP DOESN’T HURT ANYMORE, DOES IT?”

“That’s not the point you jerk!” you laughed, lightly hitting his shoulder as he placed a kiss on your neck.

“SURE IT IS,” he hummed lightly. “WITH A GOOD ENOUGH DISTRACTION, YOU’LL FORGET ABOUT YOUR LIP IN NO TIME!”

“We just got out of bed!” you cried, feeling the heat rise up in your face again” I wanted to eat my breakfast!”

“OH, I’M MUCH MORE INTERESTED IN EATING SOMETHING ELSE RIGHT NOW,” he growled.

“Oh my god, don’t you dare bite me again you basta-OW!”

You did get to eat your breakfast at least... eventually.

[brightly-painted-canvas]

How does it feel? (drabble, The Old Guard - Andy & Nicky)

I had this vignette sitting in my heart for a few days and I figured out I should write it down before I ended up losing its warmth. I am a sucker for fics about Andy’s and Nicky’s relationship and this is somehow a small attempt at describing how they communicate, even over a difficult topic like mortality.

.

It’s morning. Early and quiet.

Andy is sneaking inside the safehouse from the back door, sure she’d be the only one up at this hour until she rounds the corner and sees Nicky at the kitchen table, kneading bread with swift but vigorous movements.

She quickly considers her options: Nicky has for sure noticed her already, so heading toward her room without saying ‘hello’ doesn’t sit right. She also had wanted a cup of coffee to wash down the stale taste of alcohol sitting under her tongue after a long night of cheap drinks, so the kitchen had to be a brief stop before hitting the bed.

 She quietly steps inside, scanning the situation: flour stains are all around the main surfaces, the oven is already turned on and a fragrant smell of sweet baking cookies is filling the air of the small room.

Nicky doesn’t even lift his head, he just fixes his big, pale eyes on her and smiles that minute smile of his.

“Coffee?” he asks, his deep soothing voice still rough with sleep.

Andy nods once and Nicky is already moving, briefly wiping his hands on a clean dishrag before reaching the cupboard for a mug. The family-size moka he insists on keeping in almost all the safehouses they use more frequently is already filled with blessedly warm, bitter coffee.

She sits on one of the kitchen table’s chairs, near the momentarily abandoned bread dough.

Once he has placed the mug in front of her, she grins and says: “You’re a saint.”

He snorts.

It’s an inside joke between them: she doesn’t believe in anything holy. He doesn’t anymore (maybe).

But if there ever was anything worth calling sainted in Andy’s long life, it would always somehow be related to her Nicolò.

He wouldn’t agree, of course.

  Nicky gets back to his task of kneading bread to perfection, quiet and precise, like all of his movements.

Andy sips her coffee and enjoys the silence, the brief interruptions dictated by the oven’s ticking and the bread’s slamming over and over on the table’s board.

She observes Nicky’s profile like she has done so many times before, noticing his somehow always disheveled hair having grown a bit too long, the dark circles under his eyes having deepened in the last months, enhancing the tiny white scar under his left eye, the one connected to the cut on his mesophrium and over his right brow.

He was never specific about his life before his first death, but Andy somehow knows the story behind that long scar. She remembers the feelings she had in reaction to that lighthearted confession he uttered: disbelief and outrage.

After all her years wandering the Earth, that tiny information still had her despair about humanity, its obstinacy in bringing suffering to its own, repressing and oppressing what is pure and good and beautiful.

What she hates the most has always been feeling powerless in the face of injustice.

But if Nicolò may once have been a scared, vulnerable boy, he wasn’t anymore.

Andy’s gaze lingers on his strong arms, his wide shoulders, the set of his angular jaw, the muscles moving under his pale skin: he is a remarkably powerful man now, her brother. A forever 30 years old warrior who died in his prime, never to be seen aging and wilted if not for many, many years to this day. And not by her, it seems.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she asks, breaking their prolonged silence.

Nicky hums, a singular small sound, affirmative.

“What’s on your mind?” she follows, knowing all too well it’s pointless: Nicky never answers these questions if he can avoid it, if it’s someone else other than Joe asking, if Joe somehow doesn’t know already.

This time as well, he shifts his gaze to meet hers and smiles, tiredly but reassuringly.

Andy prides herself to be able to read all her brother’s tiny reactions, unsaid truths, hidden emotions: Nicolò may be the hardest one to read, but she has always managed.

She doesn’t know it as deeply as Yusuf, but she understands his core in her own way.

She uncurls her hand from around the mug’s handle and places it upon Nicky’s dusted with flour’s one, which immediately stills over soft bread dough.

Their eyes are still locked and Andy thinks back at all the times she had read deep into these pools of grey mist and green waters, threading out his emotions like a Moira spinning a seafoam yarn.

When he’s this particular type of quiet, unguarded and open, she can read him like a well-known piece of poetry, an ancient song.

“How does it feel?” he asks, and Andy feels like flinching, but he already has his warm hand turned, cupping her smaller one, resting the tips of his fingers on her wrist like it’s a casual position, not a subtle way to feel her life pulsing.

Oh, she thinks. Oh, my sweet one.

They hadn’t had time yet to talk about any of it.

They had to run and hide and let the dust settle, had to decide over the consequence of Booker’s actions, had to figure out Copley, had to wait for her to heal for the first time in forever, had to care about Nile.

Nicky had only had time to exhale a tiny sigh while still strapped on a medical bed, give his wise speech over immortality (wasted on the obtuse mind of an already dead man), ask her if she felt like facing yet another tiring battle.

He had accepted everything that came after with his usual grace, his absolute faith: trusted her leadership without faltering once over almost one thousand years, shielded her with his body like it was meant to be used that way, sacrificed yet some more pain, another death, to survival.

They had yet to talk about it, like they always do somehow in some way at some point, the two of them.

In their long, silent moments shared, just like this one, they always end up talking about what matters the most.

“I feel finite.” she replies, smiling privately at her beloved little brother.

He smiles back and Andy knows he has tricked her once again: he has let her in only to be able to see her in return, to gaze into her soul. Her clever, smart little brother.

She truly envies how effortlessly he manages to do that.

“It’s good.” she adds. She lifts her hand from his soft grip, caressing up his arm to his shoulder, the side of his face, the tip of his too long ash brown hair.

He lets her touch him gently, strokes the skin under his eye with her thumb, and holds the side of his head in her palm.

You are mine: my kin, my family, she tells him, through her silence. I will leave you, but you’ll always have me. I am right here.

“Finally.” she sighs, contentedly, conveying her calmness with her touch, the long awaited peace to her eternal inner turmoil now right there, close to the surface: she has a time now.

She doesn’t have to long for an end that never comes, anymore.

  His smile is a blessed thing, once again: a brief glance at unfiltered grace, the purity of a cherished soul she saw growing, learning, mending, finding its purpose and balance.

She is old and tired, but her love for this one will always bring her back to her primitive emotions, her loyalty, her animal instinct of offering and receiving protection.

She often recalls with amusement having been worshipped as a god, in the past: she had with Nile, right after meeting her. She sometimes thinks about what those ancient, forgotten people would had said and done for her Quỳnh, her Yusuf, her Nicolò. Her Sébastien and her Nile.

She’s sure they would have fallen for this remarkable man’s eyes like they did with hers, with his secret smiles and gentle voice. Worshipped his proud profile and handsome body in a manner that would have made Yusuf bristle with jealousy, exactly like he did back in the Renaissance, when a bit too many artists had their greedy eyes on the classical features of the other half of his soul.

She chuckles low, lost in her silly thoughts. Nicky doesn’t ask, but looks glad to see mirth on her face.

  The oven rings and Andy lets her baby brother go with a last stroke of his soft hair. He moves his head just enough to place a small, grateful kiss on the skin of her fingers.

“Let me get you those biscotti, they should be perfect with coffee.” he says, turning around to open the oven: warmth engulfs the tiny kitchen and Andy is sure it won’t take long for Joe and Nile to wake up now, following the sweet scent of food with rumbling stomachs, like the puppies they not-so-secretly are.

It means her quiet time shared with Nicky is coming to an end.

She accepts a plate of still hot cookies with a satisfied hum that turns into a shameless moan once she tastes the first one: “You’re my favourite!” she exclaims, like she often does in these cases.

“You don’t have favourites, remember?” he smirks, getting back to his softened bread dough.

“That doesn’t sound like me at all.” she smiles with mischief, gulping down some more coffee, as heavy steps start resounding from the floor above them, down the stairs, and Joe’s voice calling for his husband heralds his appearance at the kitchen’s door.

.

Hope you enjoyed! Sorry for any mistake, English is not my first language.

I’m on Ko-fi!

[inkbyajm]

Something Brewing

pairing: C.H. x fem!reader

category: fluff

warnings: anxiety attack

word count: 1.5k

notes: felt like angst, felt like sobbing uncontrollably, but my body wouldn’t cooperate, so imagining it will do for now. this was supposed to be a one-shot, but i didn’t realise how much i had written. now i’m splitting it into two parts. next part will definitely be more angst than fluff, so stay tuned for the terrifying sight that is angry corpse :) (p.s. don’t mind the occasional use of british english, it’s my default lmao)

next >

A peculiar thing it was, the concept of love. It was very personal and feelings about it varied from person to person. For some, it had existed since the beginning of time, when Adam and Eve first walked the Earth, when the Almighty willed his beloved humans to lead their own lives with him in their hearts. For others, it is a feeling to long for, to crave, a feeling they found themselves daydreaming about often. And for the rest, love is a tool of ruin, potentially driving people who cared for one another away from each other, instilling at least a smidge of repulsion in each one of them. However, humans are social creatures after all, and sometimes, attraction was unavoidable no matter how much one tried. And try he did.

━

Living in California could get hard and stressful at times, but at least Corpse didn’t live at the heart of the city of anxiety-inducing social interactions and constant chaos that was Los Angeles. Sure, it meant that he didn’t live close to his friends, but he wasn’t far away from her, and that was enough for him.

A few soft grunts and sounds of slippers landing on the hardwood floor echoed from the kitchen of (Y/N)’s apartment. He got up from the couch in her living room and decided to investigate the source of the noise. Coming into the room, he saw her jumping to reach the highest shelf in one of the cupboards. Looking at it, he noticed her favourite mug sitting at the edge of said shelf and, afraid she would knock it over whilst attempting to grab it, he effortlessly got it for her. “Thank you. God, I was about to grow a foot taller trying to reach for this thing.” she sighed, eliciting a deep chuckle from him, “See, this is exactly why you’re my favourite friend.” Friend? Well, yes, of course a friend, what else would he be? Corpse felt an uncomfortable tug at his heart, and he couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason why he was feeling that way, so he brushed it aside. “Why was it that high up if you can’t even reach it?” (Y/N) wasn’t a short person, she was perfectly average, and he himself wasn’t that tall of a guy either. But when it came to situations of this kind, he couldn’t help but feel good about his being taller. “It usually isn’t, but I let (F/N) use it once the other day because she refused to drink out of any of the other mugs, that stubborn bitch.” she replied, pouring her homemade Italian hot chocolate into the acquired cup. (F/N) was also taller than (Y/N), so it was only natural for her to be putting things in higher places. It was done out of habit.

(Y/N) and Corpse walked back to the living room to once again settle into the couch. He glanced at her as she sat with her legs crossed, concentrated on blowing on her moderately hot beverage, while the light from the moon peeked through the curtains of the balcony door, illuminating her face ever so slightly. Since when did he start noticing these things? Looking away to set his eyes on the TV in front of them, he sensed his heart beating at an usual rhythm, palpitating, and along with it came slight lightheadedness. Was he having a heart attack? Were these signs of atrial fibrillation? Or was this simply the start of an anxiety attack? Surely any of these would be more...recognisable, to say the least. The only situation he could think of with similar reactions was when one would develop a crush. A fucking crush? At his age? How old was he, ten? “Earth to Corpse? Please don’t tell me you’re one of those people who sleep with their eyes open, that’s fucking creepy.” Her finger snaps pulled him out of whatever trance he was in. “Sorry, were you saying something?” “I asked you if you had watched Bly Manor like three times. You were very far away.” she answered, emitting a few giggles. “Sorry, I uh- I was thinking of something, but it’s stupid. And no, I haven’t, I’ve been meaning to, though.” And just like that, they settled on the show they were going to watch for the next couple of weeks.

━

“NOOOOOOO,” (Y/N) yelled, voicing her defeat “WHAT THE FUCK KIND OF LUCK IS THIS.” Corpse lay on the floor, slamming his palm down onto it out of hysterical laughter. They had been playing Unmatched for the past hour, this being their third round, and after many cards and a level of tension that could only be cut through with a saw, his Robin Hood had finally defeated her Alice. It was Corpse’s first time playing, so to say that his winning of all three games was a crushing moment for her was an understatement. “This is not normal, you lied saying you’ve never played before!” she pouted, putting everything back into the box, “I’m usually really good at this game.”

He wiped the tears from his eyes, struggling to keep a good composure. “I’m sorry, I guess I’ve found my talent,” he joked, but he did feel bad for stealing her thunder, “Would it make you feel better if I said that my Robin Hood is, like, extremely hurt right now? You have a fucking gigantic knife as a weapon, I only have, like, a bow and arrow. That’s kind of unfair.” (Y/N) bit her lip in hesitation, then picked up her figurine and lightly tapped it along the table to approach his. Putting Alice at a slight angle, she made a kissing sound as to imitate her character smooching his. “There, a kiss to make it better. I promise not to hurt you too much if you let me win next time.” 

The same strange feeling he had experienced for the first time two months ago, when they were sitting on the couch of her living room, and many more times after that, had come back. He would’ve blamed it on heartburn, except it was nothing like it. It wasn’t anything he was used to. “Hey, you alright?” (Y/N) furrowed her brows in concern “You’ve been doing that a lot lately, rubbing your chest like that.” Fuck. He had never noticed the habit he had developed. “I’m fine, just me and my heart problems, nothing unusual.” Filthy liar. Brows still furrowed, she moved closer to him and, with her legs tucked under her, she put her hand above his heart to check. “Jesus, Corpse, your heart is going a million miles per hour! Are you sure you’re okay?”

Looking up at him, she noticed how red he had suddenly become, and this worried her even more. “Bubs, you’re literally changing colours.” How did she expect him not to when she was doing this? (Y/N) further inspected his condition and put the back of her hand on his forehead, then his cheeks, to check his temperature. Expectedly, he was getting warmer. She stopped for a second and listened intently, only to hear his shallow breathing fill the silence. She then glanced down at his left hand resting on his thigh, and surely enough, found it trembling. “Alright, Corpse? Hey, can you hear me?”

His breathing only picked up its pace as the seconds went by. On the spur of the moment, (Y/N) placed herself in front of him, her legs on either side, and gently cradled his head. “Corpse, darling, I’m gonna need you to look at me, okay? Focus on me, focus on my breathing, mm?” He forced himself to tear his gaze away from the ground and did as he was told, eyes darting around, analysing her expression. He’s never found himself having an attack in her presence, it was surprising how well she was handling it.

Wait- darling? Bubs? “Now, can you name four things that you see? Can you do that for me?” He briefly scanned the room for answers, his mind still cluttered. “The fridge, the couch, the light and-” Did she mean to call him that? It was probably nothing, she could be using it with any of her friends for all he knew. He wasn’t special. “and the game, the board game. On the table.” “Good, now can you name three things you hear?” This one took a lot of concentration, there weren’t many obvious sounds for him to point out. “The motorcycle outside, your hands rubbing against my skin, uh-” What the fuck else? Was he losing his mind? The task was simple enough, why was he having so much trouble with it? “I’m sorry, I- I don’t hear anything else.” “No, it’s okay. You’re doing splendid, see? Your breathing is much more stable.” she reassured him, squeezing his upper arms.

“Lastly, can you give me two things you can smell?” Nodding, he closed his eyes. “The coffee you drank earlier.” It took him a moment to come up with something else, and just as she was about to get off of his lap, figuring he had done a good enough job, she heard him mumble “your perfume”. Scared he’d get another attack, Corpse avoided looking into her eyes, which he could feel the gaze of. He only picked up on the scent from her shifting closer in the last second. “That’s funny, I had forgotten to put perfume on this morning.” 

[zet-sway]

Spiritual Shrios Summer - EMBRACE

This is a prompt fill for @rosenkow’s Spiritual Shrios Summer!

Prompts | release | oasis | moan | delirium | pray | sweat | whisper | afterlife | contaminated | skin | worship | incense | godless | petals | taste | nectar | caress | mirage | ripe | sundown | hallucinate | salt | intoxicated | soul | embrace | hunger | wet | adrenaline | breathe |

PROMPT WORD: EMBRACE - | - WORDS: ~6100

Rated: “E” for “Awkward but Spicy” [NSFT] AO3 Link: "Too Much and Not Enough” Pairing: Thane / FemShep Summary: Maybe it's the traces of venom in her system or maybe it's just him, but this man beneath her - this assassin, feared and infamous for the lives he's taken - swells her heart with trust. It's a new and curious thing, so different from the trust shared between brothers in arms. It's simple intimacy, and maybe… just maybe… something more.

A/N: This fic is a god damn hot mess, and yet I have literally *never* revised anything so heavily in my entire life. Was supposed to be part of a slow burn but I'm impatient. I literally can't tell if this fic is worth reading. You decide lol

Thank you @quietonewisp for your feedback on my first draft! It's unbelievable to be in the same fandom with such talented writers after all these years. Thank you also to everyone who shared encouraging words while I was pulling my hair out over this fic :) this is my first attempt at writing Shepard as a thought out character of my own creation. As a result it's pretty awkward.

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"I don't know how you do this," Shepard grunts through clenched teeth.

Every third day is yoga. And today, she thought it would be a good idea to try a headstand.

Thane guides her feet into the air, resting her knees against her elbows. Her hands are planted on either side of her head, elbows bent at a right angle to form three points of support against the floor. Truthfully, he hadn't thought she would struggle so much with this pose, given her strength.

"Push with your hands. Distribute your weight."

Slowly, he releases her calves and repositions himself behind her as she pulls in a sharp inhale, holding her balance.

"You better not be staring at my ass, Krios."

He raises a brow ridge. It's hard not to stare at her ass, thrust in the air as it is.

"You forget that I have perfect recall," he says dismissively. "I can reflect on the image of your backside at any moment of my choosing."

"So you admit you've been looking?"

"Shepard," he admonishes, "Just because I've seen your ass does not mean I consciously seek to see it." It's a stone cold lie, but an easy one to sell, especially when she makes a point of training her glutes every day during their morning PT.

Slowly, she lifts her knees into the air, shaking with the effort to retain her balance. "I bet you're an ass man," she grits out, one leg finally pointed straight into the air.

Thane sets his hands on her calves to steady her as she wills through the pose.

"I'm unfamiliar with the term."

She huffs, swallowing down a breath before speaking. "A man who prefers ass over breasts."

Only humans would have a word for something like this, he thinks. "As you know, women of my species do not have breasts."

"Yup," she hisses, slowly and carefully straightening her other leg. "That's why you've gotta be-" another shaky breath, "-an ass man."

Well… she's not wrong.

In truth, he finds breasts no more desirable than any other mundane part of the human body. The appeal, he suspects, comes from actually touching them - something he hadn't considered at all until she'd launched herself at him in the airlock weeks ago. He's replayed the experience in his mind hundreds of times by now. The insistent press of her mouth on his, her smooth human hands clutching at his shoulders... and the soft crush of her body against him. He hadn't pulled away, but he hadn't kissed her back either. Right now, he wishes he had.

There's a curious connecting thread between his return to the Normandy and her sudden urgency to speak to him - frequently. Even more curious - neither one of them has broached the subject of her impulsive kiss before his procedure.

With a relieved sigh, Shepard finally manages to straighten both legs and complete the pose. Toes pointed toward the ceiling of the shuttle bay, she trembles. It's all he can do to not close his hands around her thighs to feel every rippling muscle under her skin.

"Excellent work," he says, voice perhaps lower than he intended.

"My head hurts."

Thane shakes his head. "You're not distributing your weight through your hands. Push down, and lower your knees slowly."

She makes a strained sound, tenses her legs, and the motion is just enough to pitch her center of gravity backwards.

He catches her, but not before the rounded curve of her ass is pressed with distracting persistence against his hips. If he could have blushed, he very well might have. Looking remarkably contorted beneath her splayed hands, she grins at him.

"How's your perfect recall going to handle this one?"

He should say something, but he doesn't. With steady arms, he lowers her to the mat and she flops against it, sighing heavily. There's a familiar quiet about her, something he's come to recognize as the silence before a storm.

"...can we talk about this?"

His deflection comes instinctively. "Your mastery of the headstand will take some practice, but-"

"No," she says firmly. "This." She waves a hand between both of them. "I kissed you goodbye and we're both acting like it never happened. It was inappropriate of me. Did I upset you?"

This time he needs a minute to think.

"Shepard, I… no, you did not upset me."

"But...?" She sits up, knees drawn in a loose spread against her chest, arms looped around them. The same focus he'd seen in her face on Tuchanka is there now. But this time her expression is uncharacteristically open, visibly hanging on his next words.

She's not even trying to hide that she wants him.

So why does he resist?

Ten years ago he swore he would never love another, and he meant it. The compulsion to remain ascetic is by now second nature in him. But although the years have not dulled the memory of his beloved Irikah, they have brought a new perspective: the fires of one love are not dulled simply because the fires of another are kindled.

"I've recalled that moment more times than I can count," he says, finally.

"So... does that mean you liked it?"

"I enjoyed your kiss enough to admit that should the opportunity arise... I may not let go."

She leans closer, fingers lacing together with visible anticipation. "And what if I didn't want you to let go?"

The look in her upturned face is what does him in. In a rare display of impulse, he drops to the mat and kisses her. And this time he intends to savor it.

Somehow, the same humility that drove him to his knees before Irikah now folds him again as he gazes into the unknown with Shepard. A purpose, a reason to fight. And now perhaps... a reason to love. He's not sure if he would call it love just yet, but kissing her awakens his body like hot tea on a bitter cold morning. She draws him between her knees, lips parting eagerly beneath his seeking tongue. She tastes like coffee with an undertone of alien unfamiliarity, and his pulse quickens. He's already eager for more.

Shepard mumbles something against his mouth and he pulls away.

"You taste tingly. That's normal right?"

He smiles gently back at her. "Normal for humans, as I understand."

They lean together for another kiss before she releases him. "We still haven't done cardio."

He slips his arms around her waist and tugs her tighter against him, using his strength to pull her up with him as he stands.

"A quick jog around the hold, then?"

"...or," she says coyly, all suggestive eyes with a cautious smirk blooming across her face. "A quick jog upstairs?"

He shouldn't. At least - old habits tell him he shouldn't. But his heart says it doesn't much matter.

"Promise me one thing," he says with caution, taking her hands in his. This is not how he’d imagined his morning. After all the time they’ve spent seeking each other’s company, he hadn’t dared to think...

Shepard tips her head, listening, fingertips idly exploring the subtle texture of his scales. His throat feels dry and the words are stampeding through his mind so fast he can barely catch them.

"Embrace her memory as I have. Smile upon her with favor." The memories mingle together, threatening to overwhelm him. Shepard has already given him so much, and he still asks more of her.

"Your wife?" She leans into his neck, kissing his shoulder softly.

"Yes." He squeezes his eyes shut. His breath threatens to choke him. "I cannot and will not stop loving her. She is with me always."

Shepard smiles at him, as though he's asked the easiest thing in the world. Her next words are an intimate whisper against his lips.

"What kind of Commander would I be if I told you to stop loving your wife?"

Her breath fills his chest with warmth and wanting. Cupping her face in his hands, he kisses her glistening lips as though they were crafted specifically for him. They inhale each other, her tongue sliding against his as he breathes in her kiss. The word murmurs through his mouth and mind as a soft wind sighing through trees and grasses. "Siha."

This could be his second chance. An opportunity to fight side by side with a warrior angel, as he should have done years ago. Irikah was not a trained soldier, but she damn well could have been. She would have given everything to defend the innocent, and by all accounts, she had. Their son, alive because of her and her alone. He can taste her in the kiss, a familiar and soothing encouragement that makes his heart soar. Perhaps if he survives the mission, he will have learned something of her bravery.

There's a gentle tug on his shirt. Shepard leads him toward the elevator.

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

When they stumble into her cabin, her eyes are already bleary with his venom. Thane presses her into the bed, one hand cradling her neck while the other winds into her hair. His lips are slow but strong, kissing her like he knows nothing else. She's never felt so wanted before.

"How far do you want to take this?" she gasps when he trails her mouth down her jaw.

"This was your idea," his mouth is scorching on the column of her neck. She leans back to give him better access. "How far do you want to take this?"

Her insides are on fire at the feel of his mouth alone, and logic says she's crazy to jump into bed with another fucking species so suddenly. But she doesn't care - she's spent enough sleepless nights imagining this very moment. She wants his hands on her bare skin, she wants the forbidden unknowns of his alien body. With every fiber of her being, she wants. But it's easier to think about it than to say it.

"More," she says finally - breathlessly. Words are fleeting. Her hands fist the edges of his shirt and he obliges, pulling away so she can lift it off before she begins pulling off her own.

And then he surprises her by playfully rolling her on to her belly, kissing the back of her neck, her spine, palms trailing an electric line down her sides.

"I confess," he murmurs between kisses, "You were right to accuse me of being, as you say, an 'ass man.'" She moans as those strong hands settle on her backside, fingers kneading her flesh with delicious strength. Good god.

Words are difficult, but she manages. "Don't get any ideas, I'm not letting you fuck my ass."

"It wasn't my intention. Is that something humans do?"

Shepard snorts. "Don't act like you didn't know that."

He laughs like she's never heard before, a rich and jubilant peal in that dark voice she's come to savor. She can nearly feel the soft vibrations of that laugh through his hands as he presses his fingertips between her legs. “I’d rather know where you burn hottest,” he says, and she can hear the smile in his voice as he strokes her just hard enough to make his intentions understood.

"Oh fuck yes."

His palms return to her backside, sliding up to hook his fingers into her waistband. "May I?"

She nods furiously, her own hands closing over his to push her clothes off.

When she's firmly on her back again he drags down the zipper on the front of her bra. It's flung on the floor with the rest of her things and then she's bare before him, biting her lip under the heat of his hungry gaze. She wonders if he can see her body vibrating in anticipation.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, settling his knees between her thighs. He crawls up to kiss her. "For weeks, I've thought about touching you."

She hums as he strokes the rounded edges of her breasts.

"Your body is so wonderfully soft, will you tell me if there's something you don't like?"

"Yeah," is all she can manage before his mouth returns to her neck, his hands wandering like a dying man searching for water. She's certain to have hickeys by the time they're done.

Curious, she brings a hand up to stroke the delicate flesh of his throat. His answering groan confirms her suspicions, and suddenly his questing hands are not so chaste, closing with suffocating warmth around her breasts.

Shepard bites her lip. "Please don't tell me you think breasts are gross."

He shakes his head. "I'll admit I find it strange that human breasts are erogenous, given their purpose. But they aren’t ‘gross,’ as you say. Just... new." She pushes her chest into his palms and that gets a rise out of him - a lovely trembling purr in his throat. "And so soft, Siha."

"Feels good," she murmurs. With parted lips, she breathes her pleasure as he kneads her breasts in slow, sensuous circles, dipping his head to kiss along her sternum and at the tender underside of her flesh.

"I think I might like them,” he says, lips twinged upwards.

Her need flares with that simple statement and she pulls in a breath, straining against him.

"I hadn't imagined how... tempting they could be. Soft curves... ripe like fruit at peak season." A strained moan falls from her mouth when he punctuates his statement with a more appreciative squeeze and draws a thumb over one sensitive peak, his mouth close enough to make her whimper in frustration.

“You’re teasing me.”

"I’m exploring you, Siha. There’s so much to learn." He circles his fingertips around her nipples and they tighten in response. The visual alone has her reeling, electric sparks of need slipping down her spine and straight into her core. "Your body shows me what it wants," he murmurs. "My mouth begs to taste you."

He flicks his tongue out, sampling her in light, infuriating strokes, teasing until she's keening beneath his hands, eyes shut tight and panting over clenched teeth. It's hard to think about anything at all except his hands and lips and that rumbling voice shimmering across her sensitized skin.

She strangles out a moan when his lips close around her nipple and he hollows his cheeks, drawing it into his mouth before releasing it with a soft, wet pop. Her arms clamp reflexively around his neck in an unspoken order to keep still.

"Do that again," she gasps.

He complies without question, textured fingers on one breast and wet tongue on the other, toying with her. Her back arches, hands holding herself like an offering to his mouth, every touch like a phantom crack of lust between her legs. There's a low rumble in his throat, he's practically purring into her skin and she can feel it, thighs clenching together in desperation.

She whines when he finally pulls away.

"I'll be back for those," he promises. "I hadn't expected such enthusiasm."

Fingertips brush her inner thigh and she leans into the touch, wanting more - for fuck's sakes - more - gasping out a shuddering breath she didn't even know she was holding when he flattens his fused fingers into her seam. Face buried in her neck doing god knows what with his lips and tongue, he's exploring her by touch alone. Each press of his hand is excruciatingly gentle, pushing slowly into her slick channel, gliding upwards to her clit. She's so sensitive that she flinches when he brushes over it, clutching at his shoulders.

"Too much?" He asks.

She hadn't even realized her eyes were closed. Her throat is dry, but she rasps, "Not enough."

His full lips curve into a smile before he strokes her again and this time she moans, pushing back on his hand as much as she can manage. Her mind is chanting "please, please," but she won't beg. Not yet, at least.

His voice rouses her from her desperate thoughts.

”Your species makes great effort to avoid using definitive terms for this part of your body."

"Do we?” She asks, willing her thoughts to clear enough for her to speak. “I mean, there's pussy, snatch... cunt, if you're feeling profane."

His voice drops a register lower, and he leans close enough for her to feel his hot breath when he speaks. "Shepard, I believe the technical term is vulva."

She groans. Loudly. "Fuck off."

He huffs out a stiff laugh. "Perhaps you'd prefer something new. Ara'te. Chalice of Arashu."

She tries - and fails - to hide her impatience. "Really?"

"Do you find it repulsive?"

"No, I just... mixing religion and sex is kind of..." She fumbles with her answer, not wanting to offend, but the words are gone from her when he leans in and draws the flat of his tongue in a wide sweep between her legs. "-Jesus, Thane."

His voice is thick with amusement. "How interesting that you invoke the name of a god you don't believe in, if I touch you just so."

Shepard's mouth snaps shut and she looks pointedly away from him with a huff.

"But I digress," he says, fingers rippling along her seam. Scaled hands smooth over her slickness, spreading her with gentle consideration. His mouth is dangerously close, gaze fixed on her with eyes like gleaming onyx. Something in the way his voice drops sets her heart racing.

“You feel like the softest silk,” he whispers, each word rolling off his tongue in a veil of hot breath that cools over the heat of her wet center. Her eyes flutter closed as he presses his exploration, teasing her entrance with his joined fingers.

"Your body is a wellspring," he murmurs, slowly penetrating her with his hand. "Drenched with arousal… begging me into your depths."

She gasps when he takes the opportunity to flick at her with his tongue. Hips grind against his hand, desperately seeking more.

"What the fuck," she moans. "Don't stop."

He withdraws only to enter her again, this time sheathing an extra finger in her heat. Those fingers crook inside her and she damn near twitches off the bed, drawing a sound from him somewhere between amusement and arousal.

"So sensitive, Siha."

It feels like she's melting under the intensity of his touch, a thumb moving in teasing circles around her clit. She hisses, thighs clenching.

"Holy shit just touch me."

"Like this?" he asks in a tone that's infuriatingly playful, barely skimming his tongue across her clit.

"God damn it, Thane, you know what I want-"

He interrupts her, his voice suddenly more serious.

"Show me."

There's silence, and then Shepard blinks at him. "What?"

"Show me how you like to be touched."

"You want to watch me?" her mouth goes dry and her answering tone is more accusatory than she intends. "Because you're a freak, or because you don't know how to touch a woman?"

"Yes." He says simply, dodging both of her questions with irritating smugness.

Her knees twitch inward, uncertain, and with a deep inhale, he withdraws.

"Siha," he murmurs apologetically, taking her hand. "You've left all your confidence on the battlefield.”

The words slip straight through the cracks in her armor. It's painful, but he's right. Cerberus didn't bring her back because they wanted her, they brought back Commander Shepard. The woman she used to be is an afterthought. There's only the mission. The Hero of the Citadel. The Commander.

But here they are, Thane's enormous black eyes boring holes into her defenses in a silent plea for… something. His hand finds hers and their fingers intertwine, resting together on her hip. His expression is more unguarded than she's ever seen, eyes asking a silent question: Do you trust me? Do you want me?

"All my victories have been on the battlefield," she says, looking away.

His thumb soothes back and forth over her hand.

"Intimacy is not a war. What do you hope to triumph over?"

Still unwilling to meet his eyes, her face twists with discomfort.

"I haven't had a lot of partners. I'm laying here naked and you're playing games. I can't tell if you're just teasing or looking for an excuse to drive me off."

His expression softens. "Our differences are not merely physical, then."

She isn’t certain what he means, but Thane shifts to lay next to her, kissing her temple. His fingers tighten around hers in a gentle grip that doesn't let up, finally summoning her eyes back to his.

"On my heart, Siha, there is no place I would rather be than right here with you." There's a genuine apology in his tone, prying her heart open one painstaking centimeter at a time. "Do you want this?"

Her voice is small, but she doesn't hesitate. "Yes."

"Show me what you like," Thane's lips brush against her ear. "Remember that I won't forget." The way his voice rumbles makes her shiver.

He takes her hand and presses a kiss into her palm before setting it atop her thigh. It’s a relaxing gesture, indirect enough that he's not backing down while also letting her choose the next move. His lips are unhurried, traveling up her neck, against her ear, along her hairline.

Years of lackluster partners have tempered her expectations - she’s never shared herself with anyone as intense as Thane; and although she'd never admit it, his sexual confidence is damn near intimidating. But his hot breath against her ear and his endless, patient kisses are an irresistible pull of wanting.

This man is far from bored, she realizes. He's only awaiting her permission to give her something she's never experienced.

Her chest rises and falls in deep, shaky breaths. "No games," she whispers.

"No games," he agrees.

Biting her lip, she guides his hand back to the apex of her thighs. He offers no resistance, humming his approval when she slicks his fingertips through her heat and sets them carefully against her clit.

They move together then, her hand on his, teasing herself while he kisses her neck and shoulder, slowly making his way across her chest. How long has it been since she found release beneath the hands of another? The quiet intimacy of their joined hands, the subtle texture of his scales leaves her breathless, delirious with pleasure, his fingertips sliding effortlessly against her slick center. His mouth wanders over her skin, her breasts, every touch so electric she’s almost not ready for how fast her release sneaks up on her.

"I'm close," she whimpers with eyes squeezed shut, "Oh fuck, Thane, I'm so close."

"Yes, Siha,” he whispers. “Come for me."

She breaks. Every cell in her body clenches in a singularity of pressure before she's launched out in a million pieces, shimmering in the dim light. For once, it doesn't feel cold in her cabin. Waves of heat ripple under her skin, pulsing with every second she spends teasing the tail end of her climax.

She doesn't realize she has a death grip on his hand until she's gone completely still. If it hurts him, he says nothing, only wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her close. When she looks back at him, he's watching her with a knowing, lustful smile. She reaches for him, stroking his delicate neck and earning an appreciative hum that makes her heart beat just a little faster.

"Not that I didn't like you before, but..." she brushes her fingertips along his jaw, tilting his head toward her, "God damn."

Maybe human biology actually is as interesting as he proclaims, if one good orgasm can flood her with this much oxytocin. Like crossing a proverbial threshold, she feels her confidence returning, if only just to tell him we are definitely doing this again. As soon as possible.

"The privilege is mine." His voice is flecked with desire, words she believes so wholeheartedly she can almost see them in the air.

"How are you still wearing pants?"

He growls approvingly as she climbs over him and her fingertips slip beneath his waistband.

"Let's see what I'm about to get myself into," she says with a sly upturn of her lips.

"Or, if you wish - what you're about to get into yourself, " he retorts with no small amount of innuendo.

Immediately she wishes they'd done this sooner. He's... gorgeous. It isn't so much that she thought he wouldn't be, but his anatomy is every bit as colorful as the rest of him and that is a surprise. His length blooms from its internal sheath, a strong and gently ridged gradient of red and purple, nearly glowing in contrast against his green scales.

"Nice," she breathes, reaching for him. "Sorry if I don't have any pretty words to explain how much I want to put this beautiful thing in my mouth." Then she has a thought. "Do you have any fancy words for 'dick?'"

He puffs out an amused laugh and cracks a smile. "I seem to recall you saying something about religion and sex..."

"Humor me," she says, leaning in close enough to make his breath catch from the proximity of her mouth alone.

"Amo'ti," he says. "In your language-"

"Spear of Amonkira?"

He raises a brow ridge at her. "I'm impressed."

She gives his length an appreciative squeeze, testing the give of his ridges, humming at the surprising velvet texture of his skin.

"Maybe," she says slowly, matching the intensity of his gaze, "You can tell me how impressed you are after this." And without any further pretense, she engulfs him with her mouth.

In an instant, his head tips back, and she feels a familiar confidence returning. Men, she thinks, are hopelessly predictable in their pursuit of a hot mouth to fuck. And exactly as expected, Thane's hips are rolling gently forward. She slips her tongue around his length, watching the dancing iridescent scales along the shifting planes of his thighs and stomach.

In the back of her mind, she wonders if drell even do this as much as humans do. But it doesn't seem to matter when he sets his jaw in rapt concentration, visibly struggling to keep his eyes open and fixed on her. She doubles down, flattening her tongue against the underside of his shaft and hollowing her cheeks on the upstroke. His hands thread into her hair, sweeping it from where it falls in front of her eyes and gathering it around his fingers.

Tempted to tease him, she pulls back until the very tip of his length rests against her lips and sweeps her tongue across the head with a seductive smile. Their eyes lock and the sound he makes causes her core to fucking throb with wanting. One hand working him with each teasing swipe of her tongue, she slips lower, plants her lips on the base of his shaft to kiss him with an open mouth. He's shaking now, he's got to be close-

With a strangled gasp, his hips twitch away from her and she stills herself.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No," is his breathless response. "Quite the opposite. Come here."

She climbs astride him, pressing the length of their bodies together as his arms enfold her. "That good?"

"Join with me, Siha," he murmurs, his voice low and laced with need. "Find your release in mine."

An unexpected chill slips through her, tingling every nerve with an onset of understanding. She can hear it in the undertones of his voice: I want you. This was never a game. We will be whole, together.

He rocks against her just enough to grab her attention. The brush of his length between her legs is electrifying - his eyes searching, his body asking.

"I'm… uh…" Shepard bites her lip, processing the words slowly. "I haven't been with anyone since I... came back."

His fingers intertwine with hers for the umpteenth time that morning. It's a gesture she's rapidly coming to adore for all its patience and admiration. He kisses the back of her hand, voice low and steady. "You're in control, Commander."

There's something in his well-placed acknowledgement of her authority that placates her. Maybe it's the traces of venom in her system or maybe it's just him, but this man beneath her - this assassin, feared and infamous for the lives he's taken - swells her heart with trust. It's a new and curious thing, so different from the trust shared between brothers in arms. It's simple intimacy, and maybe… just maybe… something more.

Eyes never leaving his, she steadies herself and sinks down on him.

They join together with delicious slowness, his hips willfully unmoving beneath her as she takes him in. The pressure is exquisite, edging somewhere between too much and not enough, each ridge of his florid length finding its place within the scorching depths of her body. She's nearly sweating as their hips go flush, eyes tipping closed with the sweet pulse of their joining.

One painstaking second at a time, she adjusts. It doesn't hurt, but she's afraid it damn well might if she starts riding him like her lust-fueled mind is screaming to. She stifles her own desire, wills her body for control as she twists and flexes herself to banish the lingering anxiety about her reconstruction. It might even be embarrassing - wriggling against him like a damn virgin - but there's no judgement in his eyes. If anything, he's holding back his own pleasure, unmoving while he waits for her. Hands braced against his shoulders, she pushes up, finally bottoming out with a low, wanting moan. His length lodges against her deepest reaches. It feels fucking perfect.

"Fuck," she breathes with a cursory flick of her hips. "Holy shit, Thane."

Features painted with pleasured focus, he's stone still beneath her, hands patiently cradling her waist. Thane, her unlikely but disciplined lover, waiting for her next order.

Her voice is a whisper against his lips.

"Let's fucking do this."

And with that, he begins to move with her.

The groan in his throat vibrates through her entire body as she begins to ride him. Her fingers clasp around his shoulders, afraid to put too much pressure on his transplant scars. He grasps her hands in his own, holding her firm and letting her weight fall against him, hips rolling with her as she finds her rhythm.

His voice is a breathy sound somewhere beneath her. "Siha… don't hold back."

She gasps when the next thrust hits home.

"Shut up," she huffs, slanting her lips over his.

Despite their hours spent together on the battlefield, his strength is shocking. It's near impossible to tell who's riding who, his hands firmly on her hips, his body moving beneath her like the rolling ocean, all muscle and sinuous control. Either sex is way better than she remembers, or he's just that good. He ripples in and out of her depths, each of his gentle ridges strumming her like a harp, sweat rolling down the back of her neck.

His venom is already refreshing its hold on her mind when she breaks their kiss for breath. There's a kind of weightlessness to the high - she floats up, baring herself to his wandering hands. They slide against the plane of her stomach, cupping her breasts, plucking teasingly at her nipples. It's enough to make her cry out, heedless to the rest of the world, grinding on him for all she's worth. She feels the hot coil of release building within her, sensations concentrated in every point of contact. The texture of his scales against her inner thighs, his teasing fingertips on her breasts… his burning length buried within her, filling her to completion like no other.

In the throes of his venom, her cabin disintegrates, and there beneath an endless veil of stars, they are one - chasing release in the arms of the other. Words can't describe this perfect headspace. Later, all she'll be able to say is how he feels so good, wishing she could borrow his eidetic memory if only for these few perfect, fleeting moments, to revisit at her behest.

She slips one hand down to massage her clit and pitches her head back in a gasp, walls clenching involuntarily around his length, drawing a low rasp of pleasure from his beautiful, perfect mouth. Their voices are a litany of breathless sounds, a chorus of shared ecstasy - the desperate succession of skin meeting scales, the trilling of his ruby throat and the expletives that fall from her parted lips. She's close - unbelievably close - and damn near unwilling to finish if it means this moment will end, a rare second climax bearing down on her as she folds against him. Even with her hand trapped between their bodies, the sweet pebbled friction of his scales threatens to push her over the edge whether she's ready or not.

She releases with a scream, his name barely intelligible in a strangled half-sobbed cry of bliss that can't be silenced even as she buries her face in his shoulder. Thane's strong arms wind around her waist, holding her as he drives into the silken, pulsing clench of her heat with abandon. The sound of him illuminates the darkness behind her closed eyes as he spends himself within her and she can feel it - a glittering tingle of sensation radiating between her legs, up her spine and blooming into a full scale high.

And then she sags against his chest, heaving breaths in tandem with him, unable to give two tenths of a shit about her hand going numb between them.

"Thane..." She whispers. "Thane, holy shit."

"Are you hurt?"

"...No. I feel... tingly. It's good. It's so… just, good. Holy shit." Her head lolls against his shoulder. She won't open her eyes - not yet. Whatever's going on out there beyond his embrace - for once, it's not her problem. She feels over-relaxed, tinged with unreality. Like a dream. When had she gotten so damn high? If they'd barely -

...Oh, she realizes.

Drell toxin. Inside her.

Thane hums in contentment, his familiar alien hands soothing through her hair. She wonders if he feels just as sated as she does.

"Tell me it was good for you too," she whispers softly against his aural ridge.

"Siha," his voice is quiet, as if murmuring a secret, "It feels unfair to tell you how many times I will revisit this memory."

"I'll allow it, if you tell me we can do this again."

"As if you even need to ask," he chuckles breathlessly. "Yes, I’d like that."

"I don't think I've ever been fucked like that. I’m not sure I’ll be able to walk straight.”

“Not the word I would use, but I’m glad to hear I’ve pleased you.”

She feels his mouth move in a smile and takes a strong inward breath, raising her head to look at him. She can see her own silhouette in his fathomless dark eyes.

"Say it," she demands.

His brows - those gorgeous, expressive, glittering emerald brows - raise in curiosity. It must be the venom making him so vibrant.

"Pardon?"

Shepard extends one finger to gently prod his chest. "Say 'fuck.'"

He laughs beneath her and it feels like her whole body is bouncing, joining him in his mirth.

That laughter reaches his eyes and his expression softens. "I think perhaps we've overindulged. I didn't expect you'd be so heavily affected."

Her eyes widen in mock incredulity. "Overindulged? Don't you dare tell me that was too much for you."

A viridian palm settles against her cheek, his lips curled in a soft smile so rare it seems like a gift. "What I mean to say is it may have been too much for you, Siha."

She pauses, pushes herself up on shaky arms and sits back on his thighs. He's softening within her, and the retreat of him leaves a trail inside her that feels... not exactly, but... Sort of like someone stuck a breath mint where it doesn't belong. Shepard smiles inwardly. It feels kind of great.

"I'm Commander Shepard," she intones, setting her hands on her hips in a dramatic display of confidence. "I can handle getting dicked down by the most deadly lizard in the galaxy."

Thane is damn near grinning now. “My apologies, Commander. I will think twice before underestimating your abilities in the future.”

"I'm not moving until I hear you say 'fuck.'" She retorts, arms crossed.

"You're wrong, if you assume I want you anywhere but right here."

He reaches for her arms, trailing down her to her wrists to clasp her hands. Above him, she watches as though entranced, the dim light of her cabin blurring the edges of her vision and bringing the slow intertwining of their fingers into crisp focus. For all their differences, they fit together so beautifully. Her heart feels full.

"Thane..."

Their eyes meet as he kisses her fingertips.

"Fuck you, Siha."

[tf2-hellhole]

First kiss with the mercs beloved s/o headcannons please. Also I love your work a lot it inspires me greatly!!

Thank you, I’m glad you’re enjoying my work!!!!

ft. my inability to keep a consistent verb tense

Scout:

The two were out on a date that Scout had planned. He always had the cutest date ideas; Tonight he had taken his S/O out to dinner in a cute local restaurant, then took them to the drive-in theater. His S/O noticed that he seemed really on edge throughout the date, but when they asked him about it he insisted it was nothing.

He had taken them to see a romantic comedy film. For a long while they sat with their eyes glued to the screen and a popcorn bag in their arms. It was only towards the end of the film that they finally turned to make a comment to Scout and noticed that he wasn’t watching the movie- he was watching them, and he had leaned significantly closer. He turned his head away and shifted back to a normal sitting position, stuttering something about stretching his back.

His S/O smiled a little. That’s why he was all nervous; He wanted a romantic-first-kiss date. They reached up to gently grab his chin and turn him toward them. Before he could ask what they were doing, they pressed their lips to his.

Once they separate, Scout is obviously very flustered but he tries to play it cool while asking for another kiss. His S/O is happy to kiss him as much as he likes.

 Soldier:

The team had recently received a bunch of new weapons and everyone was trying their new gear out. Soldier was busy rocket jumping all over the place, and was trying to perfect a certain trick. No matter how many times he tried, he couldn’t get it right.

After about 15 minutes he stopped and sat down to drink some water, obviously furious that he couldn’t get it right. As soon as his S/O sat down next to him he started complaining loudly, claiming that the rocket launcher was faulty or something like that. They could tell his failure was making him really upset.

His S/O reminds him that with enough hard work and time, he can pull it off. He gets ridiculously hyped up by their encouragement and gets up to try again.

After another 15-20 minutes, he finally pulls off the trick flawlessly. He laughs triumphantly and immediately turns to his S/O with an almost child-like expression of pride and excitement on his face. He runs over and gives them a short but passionate kiss before thanking them for the encouragement and running off to practice some more.

Pyro:

The two had been spending the last few hours in private, just cuddling and watching TV while Pyro doodled. Pyro had already become accustomed to not wearing their mask around their S/O and did so regularly, including that moment. At some point, Pyro looked up at their S/O for a moment, completely silent, and then looked back down at their drawing. His S/O took notice and looked over at Pyro curiously, but looked away after a moment as they didn’t care too much.

After a moment, they noticed Pyro looking at them again from the corner of their eye before seeing them look back down. At this point, they were really curious about what Pyro was doing. After the fifth time, they finally turned and asked Pyro what they were doing.

Pyro giggled before holding up the paper they miraculously had not burned yet, which had a drawing of their S/O on it. It wasn’t finished and it wasn’t very good, but it certainly was a cute drawing. Their S/O smiled and complimented Pyro’s drawing before leaning down to press a quick kiss to their lips. The poor baby was super flustered by the kiss but absolutely loved it.

Demo:

Demo’s S/O was super annoyed to find Demo standing at the door to their base quarters at 11:30 at night, so drunk he could barely stand. He would often drop by at late times while drunk like this, but never this late. Now it was too late to take him back to his room, or he’d wake the other mercs. They sighed softly and helped him inside.

As soon as he was inside he started mumbling all sorts of things as his S/O set up somewhere to sleep. He slurred out a “Whaaat? I donwanna sleep there…” as they set up a space on the floor for him. They turned to him and simply informed him that they didn’t want him pissing on or throwing up on their bed. He protested, claiming he would do no such thing, until he finally annoyed them enough to let him sleep in the bed with them to shut him up. He beamed when they finally gave in and promptly mumbled, “Ahhh, thankya, love… Aloveya…” before pressing a sloppy kiss to their lips.

HIs S/O couldn’t help but giggle as he climbed into bed and snuggled up next to them. They jokingly told him he was an idiot, but he only mumbled an unintelligible response before falling asleep. They rolled their eyes at this and kissed his forehead before closing their eyes as well.

Heavy:

Heavy is not one to initiate things the first time, so his S/O is gonna have to kiss him first.

One morning, Heavy’s S/O stepped into Heavy’s quarters in the base and greeted him. They would often come visit him in the morning and would often have breakfast with him. He looked up from his book and smiled softly before asking them to come relax with him. As they cuddled up to his side, he asked if they would like to learn a little Russian. They smile and say yes. Even if they already speak Russian, his vocabulary is ridiculously big in Russian and it’s fun to learn new words from him.

He teaches and talks with them for like half an hour before his S/O says that they’re hungry and ask if they can finish up so they can go get breakfast. Heavy, of course, says that’s fine. His S/O gets up to leave, but just before they do, they thank him for the lesson and give him a quick kiss. He’s glad his S/O didn’t notice the blush rising in his cheeks before they left.

Engie:

One busy weekend at the base, Engie asked his S/O if they’ll be free that night. When they told him they were, he grinned and asked if they’d be willing to meet him in his quarters that night. He seemed delighted when they said they’d love to spend some time with him.

That night, his S/O was pleasantly surprised to find that he had made dinner for the two of them and prepared a movie. For a long while they happily chatted over the food, before Engie told them to go sit on the couch and ran out of the room for a moment, then came back with his guitar. They couldn’t help but laugh as he sang them a bunch of love songs.

As soon as he finished his last song, his S/O got up, walked around the table to him, and leaned down to give him a soft kiss. As they pulled away, they giggled at his awestruck expression and pressed another one to his forehead. He finally snapped out of it when they asked if they can watch the movie now, to which he responded with a yes. The two spent the rest of the night cuddled up together on his couch before falling asleep.

Medic:

For the last week, Medic had been hard at work on an experiment that he couldn’t seem to get right. He often got super frustrated and would have to step away from his work for a few minutes to calm his nerves. His S/O would often sit with him during these breaks, just keeping him company and sometimes giving a few words of encouragement. He was always grateful for their support and always thanked them before returning to his work.

After a few days of this, Medic excitedly runs up to his S/O and demands that they come back to the lab with him. He thinks he’s finally figured out how to make his experiment work, and he wants the person who supported him through it to witness his success. They can’t say no to his almost child-like expression of excitement.

He grabs their hand and rushes back to perform the last step of his experiment. His S/O could tell he was a little anxious as he sighed deeply. The two waited in anticipation for the experiment to show any signs of success for a moment… until Medic jumped up triumphantly and cheered when it did. He immediately turned to his S/O and pulled them into a quick but passionate kiss, then started running around the lab and expressing his excitement. His S/O could only stand and watch him with a big grin and a red face.

Sniper:

Sniper’s S/O came by his camper in the morning as they often did. When they opened the door, Sniper greeted them with a smile and two hot coffees. They were taken aback when he asked what they’d like for breakfast. “You’re in a good mood today, aren’t you?” They joked before telling him what they wanted. Of course, this dumbass only knows how to grill lizards or something, so he orders something from town to share with his S/O. 

When the food finally arrives, his S/O smiles and thanks him for ordering food for them. He says, “You’re welcome, ‘Roo,” and holds out the box. They reach out to take it from him, but when their fingers are inches away from the box, he pulls it back with a mischievous chuckle. His S/O looks up at him with wide eyes and asks what the big deal is. He leaned down and propped himself up with one hand on the table to say that they’ll get their food in exchange for a kiss.

His S/O couldn’t help but laugh and call him a dork. They reached up to cup his face in their hands and gave him a short but sweet kiss. He chuckled again when they separated and sat down across from them, putting down the boxes of food. He looked up at them with a soft smile and thanked them for the kiss.

Spy:

Spy’s S/O grinned at Spy as he entered their quarters; He had developed a little habit of visiting each night to spend some time with his S/O without the other mercs around. He sat down next to them and wrapped an arm around their waist, and asked if they’d like to go out for dinner the next night. His S/O happily exclaimed that they’d love to go out with him, which earned a content chuckle from him.

The next night, Spy turned up at their quarters early to show them a beautiful outfit he’d bought for them for the night. They got themselves together and drove to a ridiculously fancy restaurant in a neighboring city. Spy’s S/O was mindblown by how expensive all of the food was, but Spy didn’t hesitate to buy them anything they wanted. The two had an amazing night enjoying each other’s company and eating the delicious food.

Once they got back to the base, Spy walked them back to their quarters and asked if they enjoyed the night. They laughed softly in response and told him that this was one of the best nights of their life. They then leaned forward and gave Spy a gentle kiss and said good night before disappearing into their quarters. Spy was silent for a moment, but then chuckled to himself and turned to walk back to his own quarters.

[jvnghxope]

love sewn | final

final part;

◦ pairing: Jungkook | reader

◦ genre: boy next door au; fluff, angst 

◦ word count: 9k

◦ warnings: angst, mentions of self-hatred, cheating, infidelity

◦ abstract: You’ve never cared about the thin-as-paper walls of your beloved apartment until Jeon Jungkook moved next door. You could hear everything –from his late-night parties on Saturday, to the quality time he spent with his girlfriend in the intimacy of his bedroom. One day, everything ceases. Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months and you find yourself knocking his door before you can think it twice.

�� prologue | part one | part two | part three | final

◦ a/n: It took me a lot more than anticipated to edit it, but it is finally here! Thank you so much for all your love and support. I hope you have enjoyed this ride as much as I did. 

A numb feeling spreads throughout your body as you stare dumbfounded to his cellphone. 

You don't know if their conversation continues and you don't care. It's like your mind has shut down. You feel a giant knot inside your throat like you just swallowed a big-ass pill without water. This is awfully like that night two years ago and you feel the breath hitch in your throat. 

“Hey," Jungkook says as he appears in the hallway, dressed in jeans and a naked torso as he slides inside a t-shirt. “I was thinking we could go to this park after breakfast. It has a majestic view and you can draw something and I could take some pics– What’s wrong?” He asks the moment he sees your expression and then, his eyes fall to the cellphone. 

“You have, hmm, a new text,” you say as calm as you can and hand him his phone. 

Maybe it's not a good idea that you stay here. Yes. You need to go. You move past him to walk to his bedroom but he stops you, taking your wrist. 

"Did you read these texts?" He asks. A part of you expected him to be mad at you for invading his privacy, but he sounds more worried than anything. 

"It was not my intention," you reply, your voice just above a whisper. "I wanted to check the hour…" 

"Let me explain."

“There’s no need to explain.” 

"It is not what you think." 

You take a deep breath and turn around to face him. 

"What I think is that you have unresolved feelings for your ex."

There, you said it. The confusion in Jungkook's eyes only confirms it. He has an internal struggle. 

"It is complicated," he finally says. 

At that, you smile. "I know." 

You can assume by his expression that he feels genuinely torn. 

“Jungkook," you murmur, taking the hand that was holding your wrist in yours and squeezing it tightly. "I am not your girlfriend. You don’t owe me anything.” 

Words that are hard to pronounce but the truth behind them might give him some perspective. 

He shakes his head, "Don't do that." 

You frown, "Do what?" 

"Minimize this," he points at you and him. "Come here." He tugs you by the hand and leads you to his couch. 

"I hate to burst your bubble Kook, but we had one date." 

He nods, "I know. We might not be a couple. But that was something I was hoping we could be in the future. That we've dated once doesn't change the way I feel about you." 

The small layer of ice that was beginning to form around your heart warms at his words. 

"What about Zoe? Do you still love her?" 

He sits there, silently, pondering his answer carefully. 

"I'm going to be honest with you," he starts and your heart clenches, already fearing his words. "I don't know. I haven't seen her or spoken to her for over a year. But she was a big part of my life. I just can't forget her completely." 

You nod. You understand that. "I'm not asking you to do that. I just… I think we moved too fast. Last night–" 

"I don't regret what happened between us," he snaps. "Not at all. I thought I made myself clear when I told you about my feelings. I know I am a mess, and yes, maybe it was too quick. But last night was genuine and beautiful. I would do it again." 

The tears sting in your eyes. Jungkook caresses your cheek with his thumb when one of them falls. 

"Last night was special for me too. But there's something you need to understand. I don't think I could be with you until you resolve this. I don't want to be insensitive or selfish, or anything. I just know that, if we continue this, if we continue living inside a bubble, one day it will burst and someone is going to get hurt. What if when you meet her again you realize your feelings for her haven't changed at all? The three of us will be in a more complicated situation than none of us want to be. Believe me." 

At this point, the tears are cascading freely down your cheeks. 

"Don't you think that is a little pessimistic?" 

You sniff and wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand, "It is realistic. I've been in the same position before. I've been the second choice and I don't want to be again. So, I think I should go." 

You stand from the couch. 

"Wait!" He stops you. "What does that mean for me? For us?" 

"I think that's up to you. But, for now, maybe we should take some time to think and revalue our situation." 

He chuckles dryly, "That sounds awful to 'I don't want to see you anymore'. I don't blame you. I wish things were different." 

"Maybe right now it was not our time."

"I don't believe that. Everything happens for a reason." 

Ugh. Even in times like this, he is so stubborn. He stands from the couch, too. His eyes are red and he looks defeated. It only makes your heart sink even more. You hate seeing him like that. You wish things were different, too. 

Summoning all the courage you have, you take his face between your hands and raise on your tiptoes and press a soft kiss to his lips. Jungkook's arms find their way around your waist. 

"Take care of yourself, Jungkook." 

You murmur against his ear, hugging him. At that, his arms tighten around you. 

"Is this goodbye?" He asks, his voice strained and face buried on your hair. You choose to not reply and give him one last kiss to his cheek. 

After you've gathered all your stuff, you walk towards the door. But when your hand touches the doorknob, you hesitate. 

Is this really the right choice? 

It is, you tell yourself. And with that, you walk out of his apartment without looking back. 

Seeing you walking away broke his heart in a million pieces. 

He wanted to run after you so bad. Hug you and tell you everything was going to be okay. But he didn’t. He knew he needed to let you go. If seeing you walking was heartbreaking, seeing you cry because of him almost killed him. 

Waking up the next day after your departure felt surreal. Like he was dreaming. For a moment, he forgot what happened the night prior. He stood up and made himself something to eat. As he was breeding some coffee, he was waiting for your arrival like every Monday morning.  But of course, that didn’t happen. You didn’t come. And then it hit him. You didn’t swing his door open with that smile of yours he adores so much. 

He wanted to call, even send a text. But every time he picked up his phone, his mind was blank. Would you pick up if he called? If so, what should he say? He wished things were different. He wished he met you in different circumstances. 

He avoided all of Zoe’s attempts to approach him, too. Every call, every text since the last one. It has been a year. She had all those months to do it. Why was she contacting him now when his life was somewhat normal? She made everything more complicated than it already was. 

“...so, that’s the reason why we should keep it casual,” Yoongi finishes the sentence and turns to his friend. “Are you even paying me attention?” 

“W-what?” Jungkook blurts. 

“That’s a no,” Yoongi giggles and punches him softly on the shoulder. 

“I’m sorry. I logged out for a second." Jungkook rubs his temples and takes a sip of the coffee he left on the table. It is not even hot anymore, but the taste is enough to give him some comfort. 

“Are you okay?” Yoongi asks. When Jungkook nods, he hums. "You don't seem okay." 

Jungkook glares at his friend. 

“Yeah. I was just… thinking,” he says. "I have a lot in my mind."

"Yeah, no wonder." 

It is strange. He sometimes forgets how close to you he has become in the past few months. He is probably aware of the whole ordeal from both sides. 

"Shut up." 

Yoongi opens his mouth to say something snarky but gets interrupted by a newcomer: a cute redhead in a pretty business dress.  

"Hello. My name is Lisa and I’m the assistant of miss Hyeri. She will receive you now," she greets them and urges them to follow her. 

Then the realization hits him. Jungkook and Yoongi are about to have an important meeting with one of the curators of the most important museums in town. He doesn't have the time to be nervous because the next second the receptionist is opening one of the many wooden doors. 

A gasp falls from his mouth at the sight of the meeting room. It is both mesmerizing and massive. Most of the space is occupied by an enormous table. A woman is waiting for them at the end of the table. Jungkook recognizes her from the gala. 

"Min Yoongi, Jeon Jungkook" Hyeri greets them and shakes their hands. "Please, take a seat. Do you want something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Maybe something to eat?"

“I’ll have a cup of tea, thank you,” Yoongi says. Lisa nods and disappears through the door. Not much longer after that, she reappears with a cup of hot tea. 

“I’m so glad you guys could meet us here with so short notice.” 

“It is no problem,” Yoongi comments after taking a sip of his tea. 

"We were wondering why we are here,” Jungkook adds. 

“Oh, right,” she claps. “I have good news. One of my permanent artists recently decided to part ways with the museum and now that we have a free spot, we would like to offer it to you guys.” 

For a moment, they just stare at her with wide eyes and mouth agape. Yoongi is the first one to jump into action. 

“Seriously?” 

Neither of them can believe it. 

Hyeri nods with a smile. “The Museum is a big fan of your work. I've been following it for over a year. It is really impressive what you guys have accomplished.”

“Wow. That means a lot coming from you. Thank you,” Jungkook musters and then exchanges a look with Yoongi, slightly panicked. He has always admired Yoongi’s ability to hide his emotions. He is there, completely serious when Jungkook is freaking out. He is both excited and afraid. They have never had a boss. Never had to meet deadlines. To be honest, Jungkook is not very good with deadlines. He likes to work at his own pace. 

“So, how would it work?” Yoongi asks. 

“Unless there is a special occasion, we change the exhibitions every month or two months. If you agree to work with us, you’ll have a little over a month to work on your first one.” 

“Will we have creative flexibility?” Jungkook interjects.

"Totally. Unless there is a special theme or it violates our politics, you are free to create what you want.” Then, she hands them a folder. "Everything is explained in the contract. You can check it out. There is a money offer too. If you want to change it, we are open to negotiation." As if in cue, Lisa opens the door and waits with a smile. “I apologize but I don’t have more time. Please, feel free to arrange another meeting with Lisa whenever you have an answer. I look forward to hearing from you guys.” 

"No, it’s okay. We understand. Thank you again for receiving us," Yoongi says as he shakes the curator's hand. Jungkook does the same. 

"Thank you so much for coming. Have a nice day," she has enough time to wave them goodbye before her phone starts to ring. 

They follow Lisa out of the door with dumb smiles and full of hope. 

Thirty minutes later, Jungkook opens the door of their gallery. 

“I didn’t expect that,” he musters as Yoongi closes the door behind them. 

“Then why did you expect?” 

Jungkook shrugs, “I don’t know. A part of me thought she wanted to steal Vante from us.” 

Yoongi snorts, “And why would she tell us?”

“Good manners?” 

“Right.” 

"Anyway. It sounds like a good offer, right?" 

"Yeah," Yoongi answers. "I gave it a quick check. They are willing to pay us twice the money we earn in two months at the gallery. That sounds pretty good. But I want to call Taekwoon, first. Maybe he can come next week to check the contract before we make a decision." 

"Good idea," Jungkook agrees. 

“Why are we here, anyway?” Yoongi asks while scrolling down his contacts. 

"I need to pick something up from the office. Do you want to go to grab something for lunch? I am starving and in the mood for Thai food.” 

“Can I pick the restaurant?” 

Jungkook chuckles. “Sure.” 

He leaves Yoongi in the entrance as he makes his way to the office. It was Yoongi's idea to have the office behind a hidden door. More like an office is more like storage. They keep there all the photographs and paintings. Theirs and their artists. But Jungkook didn’t find what he was looking for there. So, he returns to his friend. 

“Hey, Yoongs. Do you know where is the portfolio of my trip to Machu Picchu? I don't find it and I want to use some pictures in the next exhibition…" 

Jungkook stops on his tracks and a gasp falls from his lips. 

"Zoe…" 

She is there, Jungkook's ex, standing in front of him with a very awkward Yoongi. 

"What are you doing here?" He manages to ask after staring at her for a couple of awkward minutes.

"I came to see you,” she says and the sound of her voice moves something inside his chest. 

"You can stand,” he blurts. 

"Yeah,” she laughs, embarrassed. “We have a lot to talk about." 

Jungkook's face turns to Yoongi. "Go," his friend says. "I'll wait at your apartment and I'm still picking the food." 

Twenty minutes later, they are both in one of the cafes near the gallery. 

Jungkook shifts awkwardly on his seat. 

“So, about what you wanted to talk about?”  

"Well, I don't know where to start." Zoe takes a sip of her latte nervously. 

And that is what sets him off.

“Since when can you walk?” He tries so hard not to sound mad but that is an impossible task. All the anger that he has been holding back for a year is finally pouring off of him. 

"Two weeks after the accident, I started to feel the tip of my toes. After a month, I could feel my legs completely. After a lot of physical therapy, I finally can walk without any type of help." 

Her face lights up at the memory and Jungkook doesn't know if he feels relieved or still angry. Maybe a little bit of both. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" He deadpans. "Picking up the phone was really that hard?” 

Zoe gulps at that. “I wanted to reach you, but I was not in a good place. I was dealing with a lot and my body was getting used to the medication again…” 

“A text would have been enough... “ he counters attacks. “Do you even realize how I lived the next months? How hard was it? I know is nowhere near what you have been through, but living with the guilt… almost broke me." 

At this point, tears are running down Zoe's cheeks and his heart clenches. 

"I know I'm late, but I am so sorry." She reaches out to grab his hand. He stiffens but doesn't pull away. "Jungkook, the accident was not your fault." Somehow, those words managed to lift some weight off Jungkook’s heart. He didn’t realize how much he needed to hear those words until now. Especially from her. It is like he can breathe properly again. “I know what I said. I regretted it the moment I said those words. You didn't ruin my life… You saved me.” 

Jungkook can’t help but snort. “Saved you? How? I almost killed us!” 

A soft smile spreads across her face. “That night, I was in the middle of a crisis. I was a danger to myself and others around me. You might not understand how much you helped me that night. Despite what happened.” 

She uses one of the napkins to wipe her eyes. 

“Why didn’t you tell me? Maybe I could have done something more.”

“It was nothing personal,” Zoe replies, taking a sip of her already cold coffee. “I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder when I was 12. When I told my friends, they started to look at me weirdly. Like with pity. I couldn't bear the look in their eyes. It made me feel like there was something wrong with me. So, when I started high school, I decided to not tell anyone about it. Ever since then, only my family knew about it.” 

Jungkook nods, understanding. 

“I was feeling so good,” she continues. “In my stupidity, I stopped using the medication. I thought I didn’t need them anymore. The first month I was okay. Fine, actually. It was in the second month when the problems started. I guess it was around the time we started fighting over nonsense…” 

Jungkook finds himself squeezing her hand in comfort. Of course, he remembers those fights. But right now, they don't seem important anymore. 

“But, are you okay now?” 

She sniffs. No matter how many times she wipes her eyes, the tears keep coming. “Yeah. The medication is working. These last two months are the first time I’ve been genuinely happy in the last year.” 

A smile tugs the corner of Jungkook’s lips. “Who is he?” 

Zoe looks at him with wide eyes, “What?” 

Jungkook chuckles at the way she is looking at him. “I know you like the back of my hand. Who is he?”

Suddenly, Zoe’s cheeks turn slightly pink. “I met a guy in my support group three months ago. He is an athlete too, with an injury in recovery. We officially started dating a month ago. It's pretty new.” 

“He makes you happy?” 

“Yes," she says with a radiant smile enough to light up the entire cafe. 

"Did you tell him about it?" 

She chuckles, "Yes. I'm not going to make the same mistake again."

“Good. I am really happy for you.” He offers her a smile. 

It is true. There is no jealousy. He really feels happy that Zoe found someone that understands her and what she's been going through. 

“Thank you,” she smiles back. “What about you?”

“Me?” Jungkook can’t hide his surprise and a smirk appears in Zoe’s lips. She still looks beautiful with puffy eyes and smudged mascara. 

"Come on. I know you too like the back of my hand. I know how your 'I'm sad because a girl' face looks like. What's up?" 

"Do you remember my neighbor? ____?" 

She nods. "She's really beautiful. What about her?"

“Well, we had one date," he confesses. 

“And? How was it?” Zoe asks excitedly and Jungkook smiles shyly. Talking about you makes his heart flutter. 

“Good. Really good, actually. I asked her to be my date at the gala.” 

“That’s so cute. So, are you two a thing now?” She coos. 

“No," he says and Zoe notices the change in his mood right away. "It is complicated."

"What happened?"

"There was a misunderstanding… I think… And you are involved.” 

Zoe chokes on her coffee. “Me? Why?” 

“She thinks I still have feelings for you and I was not much of a help either.”

"Do you still have feelings for me?" 

"No." 

"And why didn't you tell her that?" She accuses him. 

"Because I was confused when she asked me!" He exclaims. Zoe frowns and he raises a hand before she starts to speak. "We didn't talk for a year. Our relationship ended literally out of nowhere. We didn't have the time or the will to talk about it. So, I buried my feelings. At the time, they were not worth dwelling on." 

Zoe shifts on her seat. “It makes sense. I think we can both agree that we shared something magical, passionate and it didn't last that much. We never get the chance to celebrate our first anniversary." 

Jungkook chuckles, sharing the nostalgia. "Yeah. We had a lot of plans for that day." 

“Sometimes I think we were so stubborn and more in love with the idea of love rather than with each other. If the accident it would not have happened, maybe we would have broken up in the next couple of months.” 

“You think?” 

“Yeah. We need to admit we were not compatible enough,” Zoe shrugs with a smile. “Anyway. One of the reasons I contacted you, besides apologizing to you, of course…” 

“Of course.” 

She ignores him, “...is because I miss you and I want us to be friends.” 

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Really?”

Jungkook throws her a bag of sugar, “What do you mean ‘really’? You know my family abandoned me a long time ago. So I made a new one: Yoongi and you. For a while, we were only the three of us and everything was fine. One night, that changed. I lost a member of my family. Again. Of course, I want you in my life.” 

“Owww, Jungkook…” She wipes fake tears. “I forgot you were such a corny.” 

He snorts. 

“I’m going to get another coffee and then you can tell me everything about her and we could come up with a plan because I didn’t raise you to be this stupid.” 

And with that, she stands up and walks towards the bar. 

Just like that, two old friends reunite. As the last months never happened. 

The next day Jungkook wakes up feeling as light as a feather. It felt nice to talk with an old friend. He feels like Seokjin, Anna and the other guys are more friends of yours than his. It feels nice to have someone else by his side besides Yoongi. Finally, he feels he can breathe properly again. After a year of living full of guilt. Now, he can finally move on with his life. He spends the morning thinking about what he should do next. 

He was looking for some of his old photos when he finds one of your sketchbooks. You must have left it here the last time you visited. He knows how important the sketchbooks are for you. They are like a window to your soul. He needs to return them. With that in mind, he takes the sketchbook and walks to your apartment. 

If things were as they used to, he would enter unannounced and straight to your room. But things are different. Now, he knocks as any normal slash civil neighbor and waits. Some minutes pass before he realizes there's no one inside. Jungkook sighs disappointed. Part of him wanted to see you again. 

"Jungkook?" Someone behind him calls his name. "What are you doing here?" 

Seokjin is standing behind him with a lot of bags of groceries.  

“Hey," he greets him. "____ forgot one of her sketchbooks at my place. I was wondering if I could leave it in her bedroom." 

Seokjin nods, “Do you mind helping me first?”

"Ah, yes," he takes a couple of bags of Seokjin's arms. 

“Thank you." 

Seokjin opens the door and Jungkook follows him inside. Seokjin places the bags in the kitchen counter and throws the keys into the table. 

“Wow, these are a lot of groceries.” 

Seokjin smiles sheepishly, “Yeah. I want to perfect some recipes.” 

“More than they already are?” 

He chuckles, “Yes. I want everything ready when I open my new restaurant?” 

“Wait a minute,” Jungkook gasps. “When did that happen?” 

He suddenly feels bad for not keeping in touch with him after the little fight he shared with you. His friend only shrugs, keeping his hands busy as he places the ingredients he is not going to use at the moment in their respective cabinet. 

“I bought a nice place downtown last week,” he confesses. “But I’ve been planning it for a while now. It seemed like the next step.” 

“Wow, congratulations!” Jungkook beams and pats Seokjin’s shoulder over the counter. 

“Thanks,” the older replies. “Actually, I may need your assistance with something.” 

“What can I do for you?”

"Someone told me you are good at video editing." 

A small blush appears on Jungkook’s cheeks, “I wouldn’t say good, but I am decent enough. What do you want to do?” 

"I figured if Gordon Ramsay can teach cooking through videos, I can show my recipes too. Will you help me?" 

"Of course." 

The elder hums and a comfortable silence fall upon them. After a while, Jungkook’s gaze shifts toward the hallway that leads to your room. Seokjin notices, even when he is busy chopping some vegetables. 

"___ is not here," he comments. 

"Oh…" Jungkook already knows that but that doesn’t mean that he feels any less disappointed. "Is she out?" 

Seokjin nods, "She went to visit her sister for the weekend. I thought she told you.” 

“Well, we are not exactly in speaking terms,” Jungkook confesses, his eyes falling to his hands. "When is she coming back?" 

"Possibly Monday after work,” Seokjin throws the vegetables he just chopped to a strainer. “What happened between you two?” 

“She didn’t tell you?” Jungkook asks surprised. 

He shrugs apologetically, “Kind of. But every story has two versions." 

At that, he stays quiet. Seokjin doesn't push him to talk, which Jungkook is thankful for. The elder keeps doing his magic in the kitchen and soon it starts to smell really good. 

“A year ago,” Jungkook starts. “I was in a car accident with my former girlfriend. I was driving. She was the most affected. She had several injuries. She blamed me for everything and I accepted that blame. We didn’t talk or saw each other for a while until she contacted me the night of the gala. She wanted to talk. ___ saw it. We had a little… argument about it.” 

“What happened?” 

Jungkook's face return to look at his friend.

"That night was our first date. I was so excited and nervous. I have never felt like that about someone before. The date went pretty well. Until she saw the text." 

He can still see your face. Trying so desperately not to cry but failing nonetheless. It has been printed behind his eyelids. 

“She told me that we couldn’t be together until I figured my feelings for my ex. She started to ask questions I couldn’t answer at the moment. I’ve been confused for a long time and denied it for a while.” Jungkook groans and buries his face inside his hands. "I think I ruined everything with her." 

“No, you didn’t.” Jungkook raises to meet Seokjin’s gaze. "Is valid to have unresolved feelings when your relationship ended abruptly. Especially after a tragedy. You didn't get closure."

"You didn't see her face." Jungkook chuckles dryly when a shot of tequila appears in front of him. It reminds him of when things were less complicated. 

"She is hiding." 

"Why?" 

Seokjin shrugs, "You know her. Her heart is bigger than her body. She is the type to help strangers when they are at their lowest. She is that selfless."

Jungkook blushes at that. He still feels bad at the way he treated you those first days. 

“But when it comes to romantic feelings… She is scared."

"Why?" Jungkook finds himself asking. You never told him about his past relationships and he never asked.

"Someone broke her heart," Seokjin confesses with a sad smile. "It took her some time to recover from that." 

"What happened?" He whispers. 

"Well…"

Three years ago. 

"So, when is the opening night?" You asked Seokjin over the phone. You searched inside your handbag for your key. 

"Next week," he replied and then groaned. "I still haven't found the perfect hostess." 

"Jinnie, everything is going to be fine. You are an amazing chef. Everyone in the city is going to love your food,” you tried to calm him. “You’ll find the perfect hostess before you know it.”

"Thank you," he replied gratefully, "You are coming, right?" 

You tsked, "Of course." 

You opened your front door and placed the keys over the small table near the entrance. You made your way towards the kitchen. 

"Are you going to bring some of your stuff? Anna brought some boxes the last time she visited and she is going to move in next month. I found this cute apartment. It is kind of expensive, but considering we're four…" 

"Yeah, about that…" 

"You haven't spoken with Jimin, have you?" He interjected before you could continue. It was impressive how well he could read you even when he was a mile away. 

"I will! Is just… Everything is moving so quickly. You moved to the city 6 months ago and you are going to open your restaurant in a week. Anna found a good job. What if I don't get the internship?" 

You finally voiced your worries. 

"You will," he assured you. "You are really talented. And if they don’t, there are other companies you can apply for." 

"I know. Thank you, Jin. I really needed to hear that today," you said as you took your bag from the counter and walk to the mini-studio. "I promise I'll talk to Jimin and of course I will be on your opening night." 

"Sounds good!" He chimed. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay? I left something in the oven." 

And he hung up before you could say goodbye. You chuckled and placed your phone over your desk. With a sigh, you took your sketchbook out of your bag and opened it. You meant to work on your designs to finish your portfolio but your stomach suddenly growled. 

"Jimin! Do you want to grab dinner?" 

When it became apparent you were not going to get a reply, you left the studio and went to the bedroom. Till then, you didn't realize how quiet the apartment was. You frowned. You were 90% sure Jimin's car was at the parking lot. But then again, one of your neighbors had the same car. 

The bedroom door was half-opened and you heard the faint sound of the shower. Entering the room, you were about to scroll through Uber Eats when you noticed someone lying on your bed and it was not Jimin. 

"Hmmm, Who are you, and why are you lying in my bed?" The blond girl staring at you looked… worried. She opened her mouth but got interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening. 

"Hey babe," Jimin murmured, a towel around his waist. "I think you should go. My girlfriend will arrive soon…" He stopped the moment he saw you, standing there, in your shared bedroom.

Every word felt like a dagger. Your suspicions were confirmed. Your boyfriend was cheating on you. You wanted to cry, scream, throw stuff, destroy everything around you. But you were frozen in the same spot, unable to do anything your aching heart craved to. 

Maybe it was a dream. Yes. You were still sleeping and this was a nightmare. Your mind couldn't wrap around the fact of Jimin –your sweet and lovely Jimin– doing such thing as betray you. 

The sound of your name brought you back to the painful reality. You gathered all the courage you could to look at him. 

"What it this, Jimin?" You managed to whisper. 

It was a dumb question to ask when the answer was right in front of you, but a part of you wanted to be a misunderstanding, still hoping this was a sick joke. 

Jimin, the man you fell in love with, was looking at you with so much sadness that it made you sob. 

"Please let me explain. I never meant to hurt you. You were not supposed to know like this." 

What was he talking about? 

"Know what? That you were cheating on me?" You said. "Is this the first time?" 

"I wish I could say yes." 

What?

Involuntarily, your eyes turned to the woman you found in your bed. At least she was dressed now, a pretty sundress hugging her body. You gulped. Did he found her prettier than you? At that moment, when you were using a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, you definitely felt she was prettier than you. You hated to feel this way. 

"Why?" You finally found the courage to ask him. 

"Don't pretend you haven't felt how we've drifted apart."

Oh, you noticed. He had been weird the last couple of months. At first, you thought it was because of school. He gets really moody when it comes to exams. But he graduated and things were the same. There was less communication. He used to be your best friend… And now was like you lived with a stranger with whom you happened to have sex occasionally. 

You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, but you didn’t want to push Jimin in to talk about something he was not ready to share. Who would know that something was him cheating on you? 

“Is that enough reason?”

“My parents are getting divorced,” he confessed then, taking slow steps into your direction. Your whole body tensed. The last thing you needed was him to get closer. “My father started to drink again.” You opened your mouth to say something but Jimin raised a hand. “No, please. Let me finish.” You pursed your lips and let him continue. “I didn’t want to bother you with my problems. You were busy working at the cafe or working with your designs… They were not yours to handle, so I didn't tell you anything. Then, I met Hannah at one of my lectures. We clicked right away. I invited her for a coffee one day and it was like I could tell her anything." 

"And you fell in love with her," you finished for him. You felt hot tears running down your cheeks. You couldn't hold them anymore. 

"___, you need to understand…" he took another step closer. “I never meant to hurt you.”

"Well, you definitely did a great job. Why didn't you tell me when you realized that you had feelings for another woman?" You confronted him. By the look on his face, you guessed that was not a question he was expecting. Wiping your tears with the back of your hand, you looked at him expectantly. 

“I-I tried… But I couldn’t find the right time…” 

He was close enough to take your hands in his. You tried to pull away but he didn’t let you. “Really? In the six months, you’ve known her, you couldn’t mention something?”

“How am I supposed to tell the person who used to be the most important to me that I may have feelings for another woman?”

If you were not feeling like your whole world is crumbling down, you probably should’ve noticed the desolated expression in Jimin’s face. 

“You are talking in past tense…” you murmured. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you repeated. 

Fresh tears fall down cheeks. You closed your eyes. Suddenly, something warm pressed against your skin. Jimin’s fingers. Your eyes slowly fluttered open. Fixed on his face, it was the first time you realized they were tears on his cheeks. Jimin was crying too. A pair of strong arms encircled your body and pushed you against him. You resisted at first, but he was holding you with so much force. Being between his arms for the last time was the last thing you could handle and you found yourself hugging him back tightly. Three years of your life were slipping between your fingers like water and there was nothing you could do about it. 

It was over… 

“I’m sorry, ___,” he chanted against your hair. “I am so sorry…” 

That night, you drove all the way to the city and never looked back. 

When Seokjin finishes the story, Jungkook is speechless. 

His heart aches for you, for what happened to you. 

“She was broken. It took her a while to recover. She is strong. She just needs some time.”

“I just miss her a lot…” 

“I know.”

His friend offers him a smile and continues with his handiwork in the kitchen. 

Jungkook stays silent in the next 20 minutes, lost inside his mind. It takes him some time to take everything in. Now, he understands why you reacted the way you did and wishes he handled the situation better. His trail of thought is interrupted when Seokjin places a bowl of homemade noodles in front of him. It smells delicious. 

“Eat up. I want your opinion.”

“Thank you.” 

The sound of a door being opened catches his attention and Anna appears in the hallway. 

“Oh, Kook. You are here,” she greets him. “I haven’t seen you in a while. How are you?” She sits in the stool beside him and squeezes his shoulder affectionately.

“Good. How about you?” 

“Full of work but I smell Jinnie’s special noddles and I realized I was starving,” she was and takes a mouthful of noddles. 

“Where can I leave ____’s sketchbook?”

“You can leave it at the studio. I’ll tell her you left it there,” Anna says. 

Jungkook nods. 

The rest of the meal, they talk about random stuff. Jungkook tells them the news about his possible new partnership with a museum and Seokjin talks more about the plans he has for his new restaurant. Soon, the moon sets and Jungkook is full of deserts. Before leaving, he walks to the studio and places the sketchbook on your desk. He takes a blank sheet from Anna’s desk and a pen and he starts writing: 

Dear ___…

"So, in conclusion, you ran away because you are scared," she murmurs softly. 

“Did you even heard what I just said?” 

“I did and you are an idiot,” she stands from the couch and walks to the kitchen. “Do you want more ice cream?”

“Yeah.” You follow after her. “Do you really think I am an idiot for leaving him there?” 

“Yes, I do.” She notices your panic. “Look. I know you are afraid. But this is not the same situation. The story isn’t repeating.” 

She serves two more balls of chocolate ice cream into the bowls. 

"I don’t want to live that hell of self-hatred again. It took me a while to understand it was not because of me and even more to realize Jimin and I were not meant to be. So yeah, I ran. I thought Jungkook would have chosen his ex if he needed to choose. They have a long story." 

She squeezes your hand, "And you removed yourself from the equation so he wouldn’t have to choose." You nod. “That’s why I think you are an idiot.”

“Hey!” 

“I’m serious. He can choose you. There is a possibility. But you decided to run instead to fight for him.” 

She takes the bowls and returns to the living room. Then, she turns Netflix off. You stopped paying attention to the movie anyway. You lay down and place your head on her lap with your bowl of ice cream over your stomach. You feel so tired. 

"Let’s get this clear. For what you have told me, it looks like he likes you a lot. You were his muse at the gala!" She starts to pet your hair softly, "Listen. I know it hurts. Sometimes, you just need to take the risk. You can't hide here forever. Whatever that happens, you'll be fine. You have me and your friends." 

You shift your body to face her, "Thank you. I really needed to hear that."

She grins, "What is family for?"

You stayed with your sister the whole weekend, eating tons and tons of ice cream and watching tons and tons of movies. It was soothing and calming. It helped you get your mind off the situation. And it gave you time to think. 

You were back at your apartment morning-evening after work. You are finishing unpacking when Seokjin enters your room. 

“How it went?” He sits at the end of your mattress. 

“Pretty good! I missed my sister a lot.” 

“Maybe you should visit her more often,” he jokes. 

You giggle, "She told me the same thing. How was your weekend?" 

Now that all your clothes are scattered all over your bed, you throw all the dirty ones into your laundry basket. 

"Good. I tried a new noodle recipe... and Jungkook came looking for you." 

He is playing with one of your jeans, folding and unfolding them. 

You drop what you are doing immediately, "Really? What did he want?" 

You try to keep a serene face but on the inside, you were going crazy. The tiny smile on Seokjin’s lips only confirms that you are not very good at hiding your emotions. You’ve lost your touch. 

"He brought your sketchbook back," Seokjin says. "Apparently, you left it at his place. It is at your desk." 

"Oh… Thank you." 

"I’ll have dinner ready in 20 minutes." Seokjin smiles sweetly and walks out of your room. 

You finish unpacking and tidying everything up before going to the studio. You left Jungkook’s place in such a rush that you forgot that your sketchbook was even at his place. You run your fingers over the leather cover. It is one of the fewest sketchbooks that you own that doesn’t have anything to do with your work or designs. It is more like a journal were you draw anything that came to your mind. Flipping through the pages, you remember that one time when Jungkook took you to his favorite park. According to him, the sunset looked majestic from there and he wanted to take some snaps. You were supposed to draw it but Jungkook's beauty was more enticing and you end up drawing him. 

You keep going through the pages for a while. The sketchbook is full of memories of him… of memories of your times together. There is this one, where you draw the two of you.  But before you arrive at that page, you receive a call from Anna. Dinner is ready. With a smile, you place your sketchbook with the others you’ve finished in the box under your desk unaware of the fact that there is a letter Jungkook wrote for you. 

One year later. 

It is Monday morning and you are at your office. It is surprising how much work can accumulate in one weekend. The workload helps you to ignore the curious glances Taehyung sends your way since you arrived at the office. It becomes pretty annoying at the meeting you both attend to check some details about the newest collection before sending it for approval. 

Around 11 am, you go to the coffee station to make yourself some tea. Taehyung is there, too, taking some coffee. And there’s the stare again. “Some say a picture lasts longer.” 

He chokes on his coffee. You take your favorite mug from the countertop and purr hot water. Today is chamomile day. 

"Are you okay?" You ask him. He nods like he has not been acting weirdly all morning. 

"Yeah. I am okay." He leaves his now empty cup in the sink. "Do you, by any chance, have received any texts or calls today?"

"From someone in particular?" 

"You know what? Forget it. I'll see you at lunch." 

And he walks out of the coffee station before you could ask him what he meant. 

Yep. He is definitely acting really weird. 

The rest of the morning passes quickly and you don't have the opportunity to confront Taehyung about his weird behavior. He is hiding something. That much is true.

Exactly one hour before lunch, your phone buzzes, and for a split second your heart rate increases until you see the caller ID. It is your sister. 

"Hello?" 

"Hey, stranger!" she chimes. "How are you?" 

"I'm fine! A little busy. And you?" 

"Good! At what time you leave your office?" 

"At 5PM. Why?" 

"I have a surprise for you: I am in the city! So, I was wondering if you want to have dinner with me today." 

"Wait, is everything okay?" You sit straight. If something is wrong, she would have told you, right?

"Yeah, silly. Don't worry. I came to buy some stuff and, of course, visit you. So, do you want to go to dinner or what?" 

You giggle, relieved. "Sure." You start to think of possible choices. It is the third time your sister comes to the city. You want to take her to somewhere special. "Do you want to go to Seokjin's new restaurant?" 

"That sounds perfect." 

"Good. Let me text you the address." 

You put the phone on speaker to find the message with the address Seokjin sent to you a while ago. You know how to arrive there but you don't remember the street name. 

You do small talk with your sister as you do your search, but your Skype goes crazy out of nowhere.

"Hey," you interject between her story. "I will text you the address later. My boss is looking for me." 

"Ok. Don't worry. I'll see you tonight." 

You arrive at 7:15pm at Seokjin's restaurant. 

In less than 6 months, the restaurant is now one of the most exclusive restaurants and one of the best places to eat. That's why the place is at full capacity for Monday night and there are even more people outside waiting for a table or place at the bar. 

Tonight Seokjin is the host. He receives you with a heartwarming smile. 

"Your usual table?" he asks. 

“Yes, please.” 

He nods, “You are lucky you know the owner,” he adds with a smirk and you roll your eyes.  

“Thanks, Jinnie.” 

You walk through the restaurant. The table you like the most is located in one of the corners, near the kitchen. It is kind of hidden but you can see the whole restaurant from there. You’ve spent hours and hours there sketching the people that come by. 

Your eyes scan the menu as you wait for your sister's arrival. Jin adds new recipes to the menu every once in a while. 

"Does this sit is taken?" 

You raise your head to look at the newcomer and you do not expect what you see...

"Jungkook?" 

For a split second, you think you might be hallucinating. But no. He is really there. It is the first time you see him in a year. He smiles sheepishly and you remember that there's a question you haven't answered yet… 

"I'm waiting for my sister…" 

And then, it clicks. 

Do you, by any chance, have received any texts or calls today?

"You planned this with my sister," his smile widening is your confirmation. "But, you don't know her. How?" 

"We have a mutual friend." 

"Taehyung and Seokjin knew about this," you accuse. 

Jungkook nods, "The guys helped me to plan this. So, can I sit?" 

"Yeah, I guess," you reply. "Is my sister even in the city?" 

"Yes. She is waiting for you with Anna at your place." 

You don’t know how to reply to that, so you stay silent. You take the opportunity to look at him. He looks… different. His hair is longer. He is wearing a plain grey shirt, jeans, and a leather jacket that fits him so well. He gained weight. The sharpness of his face is gone. His lips look more full in the way they stretch into a smirk. There’s a spark shining on his eyes. He knows you are checking him out. 

You clear your throat. 

"So, why did you take so much trouble when you just could have called me yourself?" 

Jungkook shrugs, "I thought you wouldn't have come if I was the one who contacted you." 

Before you could reply, one of the waitresses approaches the table. 

"Are you ready to order?"

Jungkook gazes at the menu, "I'll have the Special Noodles, please." 

She nods and turns to you, "And you, ___? The usual?" 

"Yes. Thank you, Eli," you reply with a smile. 

"Right away," she says and walks to the kitchen. 

Once she is gone, the heavy atmosphere around you returns. 

"Did you broke your phone?" You finally ask him the question you were dying to since he appeared.

"I know. I'm so sorry" he takes your hand in his. It feels so good to feel his warmth again. "You don't know how much I wanted to call. Or even go to your place to see you in person. But I made a promise to myself: I wouldn't contact you until I was in peace with myself." 

It is selfish to feel this way. You know it. He did the right thing, but a part of you resents him. He disappeared. For one year, you didn’t know anything about him. Now, he appears out of nowhere and expects you’d receive him with open arms. 

“Jungkook, why am I here?" 

He seems confused, "What do you mean? I wanted to talk to you." 

"About what?" 

"About us?" 

"Is there really an 'us' to talk about?" 

"What?" 

You shift in your seat. “You left without saying goodbye. With no type of explanation.” 

He shakes his head, “What do you mean? I left the letter. Did you not read it?”

You frown, more confused by the minute. “What letter?” 

“The one that I hid in your sketchbook. Do you really don’t know what am I talking about?” You shrug. “Well, that explains a lot,” he chuckles awkwardly. 

“So, what was in that letter?” 

He smiles over his glass of water. “It explained why I left, why I did it, and what happened with Zoe.”��

“Yeah, about that… What happened? Because all this time I thought you ran away with her.” 

A smirk appeared on his lips. It is not the type you like. It is the smug one. It makes you want to smack him on his pretty face. 

“We talked. We resolved things. We stayed as friends,” he replies nonchalantly. 

“G-good,” you manage to say and his smile widens. “Where were you staying, anyway?” 

“I stayed a while with Yoongi and little with Zoe and her boyfriend. He is really cool.” 

“That bastard!” you yelled and sank in your seat when a few customers turned to look at you. “When I asked him if he knew where did you go, he lied.”

Jungkook smiles apologetically, “He promised not to tell you.” 

“Yeah, whatever,” you huff, a little annoyed at Yoongi. He is going to hear you out the next time you see him. “You could have texted me or something. Do you know how much time is one year? That means I spent 365 days wondering if I would ever see you again." Jungkook opens his mouth but you raise your hand, "Please, let me finish." 

He nods. 

"One year is enough to meet new people…" You finish what you wanted to say. 

Jungkook's smile falters, eyes widening, "Ohhhh… Does that mean you met someone?" 

"I had a couple of dates," you confess, watching carefully his reaction. "But the two of them went really wrong."

His face illuminates at your words, "Why?" 

"Because they were not you, idiot!" 

He starts to laugh at your outburst. Wow, you forgot how much you liked his smile. His eyes turn into beautiful crescendos and his nose scrunched. His laugh is contagious you start to laugh back. 

"I'm really glad to hear that." 

A comfortable silence falls between you two. At the same time, Eli arrives with the order. 

“Oh my god,” Jungkook moans after his first bite. “They are better than the last ones I ate.” 

“Well, Seokjin had a year to perfect the recipe,” you mock. 

While you eat, you talk about random stuff: how the recent partnership with a museum went; the brand new collection you and Taehyung are designing from scratch. Stuff like that. It almost feels like time hasn’t passed at all. 

“So, you didn’t answer my question,” you say once you have ordered the desert. 

He takes a sip of his water. “What question?” 

“Why am I here?”

“Oh, I wanted to see you and talk to you,” he says, suddenly shy. “I know you didn’t read the letter I left for you. But I want to explain to you, in person, why I left…” 

It doesn’t make sense. How can someone who looks as good as Jungkook does can be shy?

“Go on.”

“I know it was selfish to leave. But I needed to do it. I was not myself when we met. I was lost. Even when you helped me to raise my feet again, I was not entirely okay. I left because I didn’t want to be emotionally codependent of you. If we are together, is because we want to, not because we need each other to survive. The time I spent away helped me to rediscover myself. Now, I am more me than I have ever been. I hope you will give me another chance.” 

His beautiful words make your heart flutter. He is looking at you with so much intensity and hopes that you feel bad for being cold with him for the past hour. You stay silent for a moment, though. You suppress the smile that tugs the corner of your lips. Maybe you enjoy a little bit much the way his expression turns in panic. 

“Well,” you finally speak up. His shoulders tense in anticipation. “Taehyung and I have an important dinner next week. Some important designers are coming to see our collection. Taehyung is taking his girlfriend. So… Would you like to come with me? You know… As my date?”

The end. ♡