#and then they end up completely out of control

[mattslolita]

make u cum - c. sturniolo

in which ... your boyfriend looked so hot on the game, you couldn't resist sucking him off while he played. ( bf!chris x black!fem!reader )

warnings ; oral ( male receiving ), cum eating, slight exhibitionism, soft!dom!chris

"𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒏, 𝒔𝒍𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒄𝒌, 𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒑 𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒆."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰

sitting on your boyfriend's bed while he streamed with his brothers wasn't for the weak — in truth, it was completely harmless. they'd been playing fortnite duos for quite some time, but you were beginning to become restless at the sight of chris.

his brown hair was tousled across his forehead, a small slick of sweat connecting it as his muscles flexed whilst he hit the controls on they keyboard — his tongue darted out to wet his lips before biting them furiously, and it was driving you mad.

but the worse part?

every time he'd get mad after losing, his hand would come crashing down on the table in front of him, the muscles in his arm prominent and you had to squeeze your thighs together because all you wanted was his arms wrapped around you while he fucked you.

but the thought of sucking him off while played was much more appetizing in the moment, and now you were determined to make it happen.

"fuck!" chris yells, banging a fist on the table, shaking his head as he looks at the screen with a death glare, "matt, c'mon man, pay attention!"

you crawled off the bed, biting your lip as you drop to your knees and crawl towards where chris sat in his gaming chair. thankfully because of issues with his camera, chris's camera remained off so the stream wouldn't be able to see what you were doing, either. you slowly made your way on the other side of the desk, crawling into the empty space and settling yourself right between chris's legs.

you bit your lip as you sat up, your legs perched under your knees as you hook your hands onto his legs and try to pry them apart.

"hold up," chris says, having felt you finally. he mutes his mic, before leaning back and looking down at you under the table, "baby, what're you doin' down there?"

"y'look so good, i jus' wan' a taste," you whine, pouting your bottom lip as you stare at him with sultry eyes.

his jaw ticks and he prods his tongue inside of his cheek as he shakes his head at you. "now y'know i'm streaming right now, 'kay? how bout' you wait and we can take care of this when i'm finished?"

"can't wait," you mumble, biting your lip as you look down at the now semi bulge forming in his pants. it causes a small smirk to tug at your lips as your eyes slowly move back up to him.

"fine," chris grunts, hurriedly shoving his pants down shaking his head and mumbling curses under his breath, "wan' suck my cock so bad? fine. better keep quiet down there, y'know what happens when you don' listen."

excitement courses through you as his boxers are slid down next, just below his ankles — your mouth waters at his now fully erect cock, licking with precum. you slide in between his thighs, gripping them as you let out a whimper.

"fuck are you waitin' for?" chris grunts under his breath at you, thrusting himself at you, causing you to giggle slightly.

you took his length in your hand, slowly pumping him up and down causing him to let out a groan — your mouth watered as you watched yourself stroke him slowly, smearing the precum all over the base of his cock.

"shit," chris half moans under his breath when he feels you lick a stripe up the underside of his cock.

"s'wrong with you, chris?" matt questions his brother from the other end, causing you to smirk against him.

"no-"

before chris could fully form a response another groan is ripped from his throat when you take his cock into your mouth, your lips hitting his pelvis as you deep throat him. his hand immediately goes down to grip your locs, head thrown back freely as you begin to slowly bob your head up and down.

"bro chris you're actin' weird as fuck," matt says again, small grunts leaving chris's lips as he struggles to focus on the game.

"s-shut the fuck up," chris groans back, gently thrusting his hips into you as you continue bobbing your head up and down on his cock.

matt scoffs on the other end, and you can feel chris's grip on your locs tighten as he thrusts up into your mouth harder — you gag around him, tears filling up your waterline as you keep your hands glued to his thighs. his cock hits the back of your throat with every thrust he sends your way, and you can already tell you're gonna be sore by the time he finishes. you hadn't even noticed chris completely mute his mic as he releases low moans whilst he forces your head down deeper, nose rubbing against his pelvic bone.

"fuck, fuck, s'good girl," chris moans, head thrown back as drool forms at the crease of your mouth.

you moaned around his cock, feeling your panties dampen as he continued his assault on your throat. "s'close mama. fuck, gonna cum..."

chris's legs spasmed around you and you felt his cock twitch inside of you, signaling how close he was — he was finally sent over the edge, hot spurts of cum shooting down your throat.

chris pulled your head back, his hand going down to stroke his cock as hot white ropes of his cum shot down your throat whilst you sat on your knees with your mouth wide open. his thrown back as his chest heaved up and down, milking himself completely dry.

"swallow," he demanded, eyes narrowed into slits. he watched intently as you swallowed every drop, licking your lips with a grin as you stared up at him. "thas' a good girl."

you crawled from under the desk, and stood in front of chris, dipping down to capture his lips in a kiss — he tastes himself on your mouth, and you slip your tongue into his mouth. you sucked on his tongue before pulling away, sucking on his bottom lip with a pop as a string of saliva connects you both.

"jus' wait till i get off this game."

( lilly's corner 💌 )

i know its not chris & bambi, but i fear this was supposed to come out back when chris & matt first started streaming😩😩 hope y'all enjoyed this, i love you all forever. 💌

@muwapsturniolo @thenickgirl @luverboychris @cottoncandyswisherz @chanelles-world

@sturnprime @middlepartmatt @chrissturniolossidehoe @sturniqloo @chaossturns

@fairyrcts @mbbsgf @sturnsxplr-25 @moonk1ss3d @oliviasturniolo21

@wh4re4chratt @cyberdre4ms @angvlarabella @pvssychicken @lovesturni0l0s

@delilahsturniolo @venusxsturnio @chrissystur @sweetangelgirl7 @wovenribbons

@chrispotatos @chrissystur @jetaimevous

[bpmiranda]

Subby Logan…save me subby Logan…

Just a Taste (Logan Howlett) nsfw

A/N: smut, bf!logan, sub!logan, 18+ f!reader, teasing, oral f!receiving, overstimulation, is denial kink a thing?

There was no real reason behind this punishment besides your own amusement. Logan always sauntered around the mansion with a devil-may-care attitude, always very manly and possessive of you, moving you around where it pleases him to have you. Whether it be guiding you around the school by your waist or your hand, or positioning you in bed, taking you how he wants.

Right now, it was your turn to be in control. Logan was knelt fully clothed in front of you while you sat completely naked on the end of the bed. Your legs were spread out in front of him and you warned him not to touch you anywhere above your knees. Logan took his time kissing your ankle and your calf, caressing your legs slowly as you praised him for being such a good listener. “That’s it, baby.” You hum, your hands on either side of you as you leaned back slightly on the bed. “You’re making me so wet.”

Logan is uncomfortably hard in his sweatpants, the scent of your arousal is heavy and palpable in the air and he keeps glancing at your pulsing core to watch how you leak onto the bedsheets from his mouth and soft caresses alone. “Please, baby,” He begs while pressing a sly kiss to the inside of your knee. “Please let me taste you.”

“You haven’t earned it.” You muse and he groans softly, looking at your glistening folds and craving so badly to run his tongue through them. “Doesn’t feel good to be teased, huh?” You say as you run a hand through his fluffy hair and he shakes his head, eyes searing into your core like a man dying of thirst in the desert forced to sit in front of a glass of water he can’t have. You gently tug his head back by his hair so he’ll look at you and he growls approvingly at the feeling. His green eyes are dark and veiled with lust, his lips tremble with want of you. You lean forward and kiss him gently, moaning softly against his lips, and he grabs tightly onto your knees, kissing you back while whining against your lips which makes you unbelievably aroused.

“Please.” He breathes out, the pads of his fingers trace down your calves and he swallows hard as you move his head to the side by his hair, kissing his jaw softly. “Baby, let me taste you.” He begs you again.

“Not yet.” You say, biting his bottom lip and he groans. “Why don’t you go ahead and strip for me, darling.” You suggest, letting go of his hair and softly pushing him away with your foot. Logan nods as he stands up and removes his t-shirt, your eyes trace every ridge and indentation of his muscles as he tosses the clothing article away and you smirk when he teasingly flexes his chest. “Keep going.” You say, and he undoes the drawstring of his sweats before pushing them down and stepping out of them. His hard cock bounces softly as it is released from containment, every vein throbbing visibly from your relentless teasing. You feel your mouth water at the sight of it, recalling how heavy it is when you hold it in your throat or when he is throbbing deep inside you. You look over his sculpted body, his firm chest as it rises and falls with his heavy breathing, his strong arms with his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “You’re a dream.” You compliment and he just shakes his head.

“Please.” He says again, and you know what he’s begging you for, it’s the only thing he really wants right now.

You pretend to think about it for a moment and you nod slowly. “I think you’ve earned it.” You say and he kneels back down in front of you, eagerly spreading your thighs apart and pressing his nose to your mound so he can smell you. “Oh!” You moan when his tongue begins lapping hungrily at you. You feel the strength of him with which he lays you back by pushing on your belly and he angles you with his hands underneath your ass making you giggle softly because he’s so insatiable. Logan’s groaning into your cunt, whining as your arousal coats his tongue, and you feel his thumb dipping into your core as his tongue burrows into you as well. Your back arches in pleasure and you pull on his thick hair, moaning his name as he indulges in between your thighs. “Yes, Logan!”

You feel your legs tremble warningly as he’s got them pushed against your chest now, his hold is firm on the bottom of your plush thighs as he continues abusing your clit, wanting to give you the best pleasure you’ve ever had, intending to make sure you can never go without his tongue again. With a high pitched whimper, the tension in your abdomen snaps and you pull harshly on his hair as you cum in his mouth. Logan’s sucking all your juices, refusing to let anything spill, he’s practically drooling on you, and you cry out from the overstimulation. “Can’t possibly get enough of this little pussy.” He swallows hard, licking his lips as he tastes you and you bite you lip, panting hard while he rubs your thighs soothingly and kisses the insides of them. Logan then grabs you by the waist and he moves you further up the bed, he places your thighs over his shoulders, and dives back in, refusing to quit eating at you until he’s satisfied with the mess you make on his face and then on his cock; his own punishment for you.

Sigh🥹

🏷️: @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @peterparkernotfound @httpsells @evasmlp @ayatotiddies @thatlittlered @seasonofthenerd @littlemisscantloveyouback @scorpiosaintt @simpingfor-wakasa @spencerswh0r3 @thatweirdtheaternerd12 @shybluebirdninja @iamburdened

[writeriguess]

katsuki x reader where katsuki meets readers parents for the first time and her father is really strict about dating

The day had finally come. You had warned Katsuki plenty of times about your father, a man who was notorious for his firm, no-nonsense attitude. It wasn’t that your father didn’t want you to date—he just had incredibly high standards, and anyone trying to be part of his daughter’s life had to pass his test.

Katsuki had scoffed every time you mentioned it, his usual cocky attitude brushing off the idea that anyone, let alone your father, could intimidate him.

"Oi, like I give a damn about what your old man thinks," he had said. Yet, today, standing in front of your house, he looked a little more tense than usual. Dressed in his usual casual style, he cracked his knuckles out of habit. You shot him a nervous smile.

"Ready?"

"Tch. Let’s get this over with."

You stepped inside, the smell of home-cooked food filling the air. Your mom greeted you with a warm hug, smiling brightly at Bakugo.

"Oh, it’s so nice to meet you, Katsuki!" she chimed, completely opposite in tone from what you knew was coming.

Katsuki mumbled a "Nice to meet you, too," but his eyes flickered toward the dining room where your father sat, already staring him down from his seat at the head of the table.

After the initial pleasantries, the four of you sat down to dinner. Your father wasted no time sizing Katsuki up. His eyes narrowed, analyzing every word that came out of Bakugo’s mouth.

"So, Katsuki," your father began, his voice deep and authoritative, "what exactly are your intentions with my daughter?"

You could feel the tension rise as Bakugo met his gaze head-on. Normally, he would have shot back some smart remark, but this was important. For you. He clenched his fists under the table, trying to control his temper.

"I’m not here to play around, sir," Bakugo said, his voice steady but firm. "I’m serious about her."

Your father raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Serious, huh? You’re a Pro Hero, right? That life’s dangerous. You think you can balance that and give my daughter the life she deserves?"

Katsuki’s jaw tightened. "I don’t need to balance anything. I’m the best at what I do. I’m gonna protect her and make sure she’s safe no matter what."

You could see your father’s eyes narrow further, testing Katsuki’s resolve. But Bakugo didn’t back down.

"And what about your temper?" your father pressed, leaning forward. "I’ve heard about your attitude. What’s to say you won’t bring that home?"

Katsuki took a deep breath, his hands gripping the edge of the table. "I won’t lie to you, I’ve got a temper. But I’d never take it out on her. She’s the only one who can calm me down when I’m pissed off."

Your father stared him down for what felt like an eternity, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. You glanced between them, your heart pounding. Then, slowly, your father leaned back in his chair, his gaze still piercing but less intense.

"I’ll be keeping an eye on you, Bakugo. You hurt her, and you’ll regret it."

Katsuki smirked, his usual confidence returning. "I wouldn’t expect anything less."

Finally, the air in the room lightened as your father gave a small nod of approval. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. And for Katsuki, it was enough.

As the night went on, things eased up. By the end of dinner, your father still wasn’t fully won over, but you could tell he respected Katsuki’s determination. It was the beginning of something, and you knew with time, things would get better.

After dinner, when it was just the two of you walking home, Katsuki grumbled, "Your old man’s intense, huh?"

You smiled and slipped your hand into his. "You handled it better than I expected."

"Tch, whatever," he muttered, but the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips. "I told you I’m serious about you."

And in that moment, you knew Katsuki wasn’t just talking to your father—he was talking to you.

Requests are open. Send as many as you like.

[azzibuckets]

attitude [pazzi]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: paige catches attitude and azzi keeps her in check

a/n: basically the nyfw and ny liberty game fic yall requested. @makethemhoesmad to thank for the prompt!!!!

masterlist

Paige had never been a big fan of side parts, but that was before Azzi Fudd.

Now, as she stared at her girlfriend, her soft curls tossed to the left and framing her doe brown eyes in just the right way, Paige wanted to tangle her fingers in Azzi’s hair and kiss her and kiss her.

But knowing Azzi likely wouldn’t take kindly to messing up her makeup after hours of sitting in her chair, Paige settled for merely inching a little bit closer to her best friend on the couch where they were sitting. Azzi’s cheeks turned a faint red when Paige brushed her pinky against hers. “I’m not gonna lie, you look hot as hell right now,” Paige said lowly, voice thick with want.

Azzi’s blush turned fiery. “You sure know how to woo a girl,” she said sarcastically.

Paige leaned in closer. “Is it working?” she asked, her lips only a few centimeters from Azzi’s mouth. Azzi’s eyes flicked down before she inhaled and scooted back. “You’re gonna mess up my makeup.”

Paige looked wounded at the distance between them. “You weren’t saying that last night,” she quipped, earning a smack to the head. “Yo, you’re gonna mess up my hair,” Paige complained, turning to face the mirror and adjust some strands.

“Good, maybe all the bitches will back off,” Azzi joked lightly.

“At least those bitches would kiss me,” Paige grumbled, eyes glazing over as she stared at Azzi’s lips.

“Control your face,” Azzi chastised, though her heart warmed at how Paige looked more in love with her every time she saw her. “Especially in front of the cameras later.”

“I know, I know.”

•••••••••••••••••••••

Paige was not controlling her face.

She had done a pretty good job at the beginning of the event. Hell, she’d been beaming and shit seeing the crowd she was intermingling with, filled with celebrities she’d never thought she’d meet in person.

That was until that same redheaded slut kept approaching her girlfriend and smiling at her in that slinky way. It didn’t help that she was unable to secure neighboring seats with Azzi, forcing her to sit across the room and burn holes into the ginger’s head as she laughed at everything her girlfriend was saying.

“Remind me to play poker with you some day,” Brittany piped up from next to her. “I would walk away a millionaire.”

Paige clenched her jaw. “You think this is funny?”

“You really think carrot head holds a candle to you?”

“Her boobs are sticking out and shit in that dress she’s wearing,” Paige gritted through her teeth, completely ignoring Brittany’s words.

Brittany smiled, enjoying the show unfolding before her. “Maybe you should do something about it,” she goaded.

“Fuck this.” Paige slid out her phone, hoping to distract herself by scrolling through Instagram. Her grip tightened, almost cracking her phone when the first post she came across was a picture of her and Azzi posing from the hour before, and all she saw in the comments were people thirsting over her girlfriend like animals (Aka me). “People have no civility these days,” she decided, shoving her phone back into her pocket.

Brittany only smirked.

As soon as the runway ended, Paige leapt from her seat and started making her way towards her girlfriend. All thoughts of wayward cameras left her mind as her vision tunneled in on the way the redhead’s acrylics scraped lightly over Azzi’s bicep.

“Hey,” she said lowly, hands tracing down Azzi’s sides before settling at her hips. “Who’s this?” She nodded at the girl but kept her eyes on Azzi.

Azzi’s eyes furrowed in confusion at Paige’s carelessness, her hands subtly covering the blonde’s and gently pushing them away. “This is Odelia. She’s one of the interns coordinating New York Fashion Week!”

“That’s nice.” Paige’s voice dripped with fake enthusiasm as she leaned her chin on Azzi’s shoulder, arms going back to circle her waist. “I bet you’re an amazing intern.”

Azzi shifted at the condescending way Paige emphasized intern. She stepped away, causing Paige’s hands to drop. From the way Azzi’s eyes glared daggers into her, Paige knew she was in for it later. Oh well. The look in Odelia’s face had been worth it.

•••••••••••••••••••

“I’m hungry,” Azzi announced as soon as she slid in the back seat of her car.

Paige stared out the window, her neck stiff. “Maybe you should’ve eaten that redhead bitch.”

Azzi stilled, only halfway into the car before she realized her surroundings and climbed fully in, shutting the door behind her. “That redhead bitch?” Azzi repeated, mocking the same tone Paige had used.

Paige slumped low into her seat, pulling down the drawstrings of her hoodie that she’d replaced her sweater with. “Fucking looking at her like she was a four course meal,” she muttered under her breath, her gaze stilled fixed on the buildings whirring past outside.

Azzi decided to ignore Paige, not wanting to have a conversation like this in the backseat of the Uber. “Can you make a stop at McDonald’s?” she asked the driver, who nodded and started to shift lanes.

“Bro, let me just go home,” Paige complained.

“Drop the attitude,” Azzi warned, her tone deadly. Paige glowered even more but immediately shut up.

“You want anything?” Azzi asked as they pulled up to the drive through.

No response.

“Paige Madison Bueckers.”

“A cheeseburger and fries.”

When they were given their food, Paige made sure to start munching loudly, knowing Azzi’s pet peeve was loud chewers.

Azzi set down her burger and rubbed her temples. “So you’re gonna keep being a brat?”

Paige chewed louder.

In one quick motion, Azzi snatched the fries from Paige’s hand and dumped them into the bag. Paige immediately reached over to grab it back, but Azzi quickly menauevered it, putting the food between the door and her body. “Act like a kid and get treated like a kid,” Azzi said, her voice hard.

••••••••••••

If Paige had been mad last night, she was furious now. After they’d got home, they’d had a little fight before Paige had stubbornly went to the couch for the night. With the business of their trip, they hadn’t had time to talk about it since, and it was killing Paige not being able to hug and kiss her girlfriend for the entire day.

Did Paige know she was being bratty and stupid? Yes. But Azzi was always so sexy when she was worked up.

Paige did have a tactic. She was trying her hardest to not let her gaze settle, but for the tenth time in five minutes she found herself staring at Azzi again from across the arena. Her girlfriend’s hair was up in a bun now, slut strands framing her face. With the sunglasses she was wearing and the gum she was chewing, she looked perfectly poised, but Paige knew Azzi was still tense from their argument.

In all honesty, Paige wanted to be in Azzi’s lap, not sitting here watching the game. She’d tried to take her mind off Azzi’s long legs by striking up a conversation with Klay Thompson, who sat next to her, but as soon as the NBA star opened his mouth to respond, her thoughts returned to Azzi Azzi Azzi.

After the game, Paige tried to rush through all the pictures, but Azzi, who seemed to know what she was doing, merely smirked and took her time. She must’ve said hi to every single person on the Liberty and Aces roster before joining Paige at the exit.

“Someone’s in a rush,” Azzi noted as Paige sped walked to the car.

“Shut up right now.”

••••••••••••••

As soon as the door clicked behind them, Paige’s mouth was pressed feverishly against Azzi’s, her hands roaming across every single part of the younger girl’s body. “Looked like such a good fucking girl in this outfit,” she panted. “Got everyone fooled, but I see right through it.”

Azzi pressed Paige’s hips against the wall, holding her there. The blonde squirmed under Azzi’s stare coming from half lidded eyes. “Let’s talk about last night,” Azzi jabbed back. “Acting like a little fucking brat.”

Paige raised her hips, trying to roll them against Azzi’s, but Azzi’s grip was too firm. “You gonna punish me?” she breathed out, hands going up to Azzi’s shoulders to steady herself.

“I know your game,” Azzi husked, teeth dragging over Paige’s earlobe. “You think you’re so smart, huh?”

“Want you,” Paige whined, fingers hiking up Azzi’s shirt. “Need you.”

Azzi tsked, backing away from Paige. It took all of her self control not to take her right then and there, with the blonde slumped against the wall, eyes glazed over and hair a mess as she pouted. “No touching,” she said lowly. “Keep your hands to yourself.” Azzi slowly dragged her thumb down Paige’s jawline, relishing the heat of her skin and the way the older girl trembled under her touch. “Gonna make you regret all your attitude.”

Paige’s eyes fluttered shut. She fought back a smile. Azzi didn’t know it, but Paige had won.

[uluvjay]

First time F1 Drivers kiss you…

| LEWIS HAMILTON | He kisses you the night he asks you to be his girlfriend, he set up a gorgeous dinner. Candles, roses, lights, delicious dinner. He kisses you so delicately and gently as he holds you so close.

He pulls away slowly, his thumb caressing your cheek before dipping in for one more sweet kiss.

| CHARLES LECLERC | it’s your third or fourth date and he’s done his best to be a proper gentleman and not overstep but you’ve got some sauce on the corner of your lip and as he reaches to wipe it away a soft gasp escapes from you and all of his self control breaks.

He’s sliding across the booth and locking your lips, it’s like it’s feels like everyone disappears and it’s just you two, your fingers lace in his hair to pull him closer. Hes happy with his decision to rent out the restaurant once the two of you finally pull away breathless and red.

| LANDO NORRIS | Lando would kiss you on the third date, he takes you out on a late night yacht ride and it’s slow, longing, eye contact before he’s turning your head all the way and pulling you into a sweet kiss.

He wants you and likes you and he’s not afraid to show it. You’re his person and he knew it right away, ever since the first kiss he hasn’t been able to keep his lips and hands off of you.

| CARLOS SAINZ | He invited you over to make dinner together and your hands keep brushing, personal space gets smaller and smaller and next thing you know he’s pulling you in close. It’s slow and intimate as his hands grip your hips tight before pulling away when the oven beeps.

Your flushed and he’s smirking, you two continue on like nothing has happened until he’s walking you to your car at the end of the night and ends up pinning you against your car this time with your lips locked in a hot kiss.

| LOGAN SARGEANT | he has you on a fishing date and you catch your first fish, you’re jumping around excited but he can’t help but admire you. You finally catch his gaze and he pulls you into a soft kiss that has both of you blushing and pulling away with a soft giggle.

“So if I get that for a little blue gill, what do I get for a big one?”

| OSCAR PIASTRI | He’s been staring at your lips all night and you’re sitting in the car outside of your house, he’s rambling on about how much fun he had and you surge forward and lock his lips in a soft kiss. He had been afraid of overstepping but when your lips touch he feels the sparks and when you pull away he’s like “oh-“

Needless to say next date he wasn’t afraid to pull you into a kiss and show you that he can lead as well.

| DANIEL RICCIARDO | You two are having a little picnic in his backyard on his farm, you’re sitting in the bed of his truck with some wine and after a night of jokes, stories, and country music, you both find yourself leaning in. It’s slow and gentle and your both beaming as you pull away, he gives you a few more soft pecks before pulling away completely and cuddling you into his side.

| LANCE STROLL | He does it because it just feels right, you’re in the middle of saying something but he’s been staring intently at your lips for a good 30 seconds before he cuts you off by turning your face towards him and kissing you. You’re surprised but kiss back quickly, he pulls away when you both need air and apologizes before telling you to please continue with what you were saying.

| MAX VERSTAPPEN | He has you at your front door after your third or fourth date, you’re both leaning in to kiss each other’s cheeks but you slip up and somehow your lips connect. You both jump away and he doesn’t really know what to say but he doesn’t need to before you’re moving forward and locking lips, purposefully this time.

| ALEX ALBON | You two went go-carting, it’s cheesy but cute. Some would find it odd but the second you told him you could easily beat him he had to prove you wrong-except he didn’t! You’re on the top step of the little makeshift podium, he’s taking your picture of you with your fake trophy and he’s hyping you up.

Later that evening after some food he has you at your front door, you’re both joking a little about the day and next thing you know his hands are on your hips and your lips are locked. It’s slow and passionate, his touch ignited butterflies in your stomach and you both find yourselves blushing when he pulls away.

[monsterfuckerconfessions]

Imagine summoning an angel with the intent to corrupt them, just to end up being completely used by them. You think you have control, but upon your first order-to service you, it forced you to the floor.

As much as it was laughing in your face, It was infuriated by your assumption. A measly mortal? Controlling a being that's far more superior than it ever could comprehend? Not a chance. But they know just the way to deal with cocky sinners like you...

They pounded you with no remorse, relishing in the way you moaned and whined for them. In your ears you could hear them insulting you, teasing you, mocking you for letting pride get to your head and make you, a filthy sinner, think they can dominate something as powerful and divine as an angel.

You thought it'd be over after they finished inside you, but they were going to use you like this for as long as they please. You wasted a whole day being fucked by the angel, being pumped full of warm holy seed in all your holes.

They did pull out eventually, standing up to take a look at you, chuckling now at the pathetic sight in front of them. they left soon after, leaving you all alone-giving you time to reflect. You were bummed out, now that they were gone, given that was not at all supposed to happen. Maybe you should try that ritual again? Surely this wouldn't happen a second time...

(First time writing smut in a reader perspective... I hope it's ok)

.

[stars-obsession-pit]

I feel like the potential of different methods of treatment of Jason’s Lazarus Pit side effects in DPxDC fics is often underutilized.

Like, yeah, the crossover brings in more ghostly stuff that could help, but it’s contamination on his literal mind/soul (definitely soul in a DPxDC context, idk about in DC canon) brought on by an unnatural resurrection. At least to me, that feels like it should be significant.

Having Danny just reach in and pull it out or Frostbite treat it in a basic procedure feels almost… cheap?

Like, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with it being easy. Stories don’t need to go deeply into the soul healing process; if it’s not meant to be major plot point, it can absolutely be just a quick thing! I’m not trying to insult those stories at all!!

But I feel like there’s a lot of room for more complex or esoteric stuff in there to be explored!

Some ideas for such unique condition things under the readmore:

What if his “revenant” thing some fics use comes into play and the only way to remove it is to fully achieve his revenge? And if that’s the case, what if someone/something else kills the target of the revenge without his influence? Yeah, the person is dead now, he’s technically avenged, but he wasn’t the one to get the revenge. So does it still go away, or is he stuck with it? If he still has it, is it just permanent now or can he just find some other revenge method (ruining their legacy or etc) to break it?

Or oppositely, what if he literally can’t achieve that revenge or his body will die again, its mission complete. Thus, his only way to survive and remove the side effects is to smother all those vengeful urges until they fall silent. Which could make that “someone else kills the target unrelated to him” thing from the previous idea now the good ending - basically guaranteeing his survival since he can’t achieve the vengeance as easily now and can move on. Or maybe it’d be even worse as it forces him to move on regardless, dying randomly when the target of his revenge meets their comeuppance.

What if cycling out the corrupted ectoplasm is a long-term process of meditation (and/or emotional control) - something that takes up significant space in his life and forces him to plan/work around until it’s complete (reduced work hours, avoiding certain situations that might cloud his thoughts, etc)

What if he needs to obtain some sorts of special items/materials (either connected to his own life or more general ghost stuff) for a cleansing ritual, forcing him to go on some sort of quest(s) before he can perform it and recover

What if the tainted spots on his soul can’t be fixed, only excised, leaving other types of consequences for his mind/soul (some that will gradually disappear as the “incisions” heal, others that persist in the scars left behind)

What if the healing process requires him to go over his memories and smooth out the jagged emotional edges left by the Pit, and he isn’t experienced enough with ghostly matters to do on his own, so it forces him to get help from another ghost (and thus bare all his secrets to them)

What if the Pit Rage has to be fully pulled to the front - leaving him completely consumed by its control - before it can be literally fought back and suppressed

What if it can be healed only by taking pieces of healthy ghosts to patch him up - which’d require a lot of smaller ghosts (e.g. blob ghosts) or could potentially only need a couple if he’s willing to harm more intelligent ghosts for it (which Jason likely wouldn’t do, but he’s hardly the only person who’s been revived by the Pits…)

[drarryspecificrecsdaily]

2024.09.18

Complete fics posted on AO3 this day

1. Dreary by raspberrybalm [E, 177k]

A vile of Felix Felicis, a Resurrection Stone, and a blond walk into an Avada… The punchline? Draco's life, it would seem. He can't win for losing. His mother's gone, his girlfriend's in love with his mate, and The Order won't take him no matter how many baddies he slaughters. The solution? A Time Turner. The solution to the consequential havoc of messing with time? Harry Potter, of course. Only, the bloke's been dead for fifteen years. Good thing Draco eats Death for breakfast.

2. like an animal in your care by venomous [M, 1k]

Harry wakes up from a nightmare. It’s nothing new.

3. Ouroboros by inkysand [T, 81k]

“But now we’re all trapped in this place with Bellatrix lurking around,” Ron said once he’d calmed down. “And it sounds like Malfoy’s all set on fixing the Compact. But what’s that going to do for You-Know-Who? If we get bumped out of here, do we go back and get killed by a dark wizard who’s got all his power back and is already in control at Hogwarts?” None of them had answers to those questions.

4. till then i'll just pretend by dracosfirstwife [G, 2k]

cedric won't leave harry alone, so draco decides him and harry should fake date so cedric will leave him alone [...]

5. Twin flames by Wizarding_Whatif [M, 561k]

After the war has ended, Harry finds himself at a loss for what to do with himself. [...] Draco Malfoy is also asking the big questions in life after the war. [...] They both get invited back after a year of rebuilding to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. [...] This year, however, the returning students are to be resorted, Harry is but Draco is not. This year an entirely different adventure awaits the two men. With an ancient love spell cast on Harry before School the unknown consequences grow steeper as the year goes on, leaving the entire wizarding world on the edge of their brooms for news of their savior. Can a villain become a hero? Will the hero get a happy ending?

6. When Harry Ate Sally by @chaos-bear [E, 8k]

Dumbledore was right when he said that dark magic leaves traces. Eight years after defeating Voldemort, Harry Potter is Britain's Golden Boy, but the darkness his shiny exterior hides will soon consume everyone he once loved.

---

Fest/Exchange

1. Black Books Month One by Anonymous [E, 14k]

Harry inherits Black Books, one of the oldest bookstores in the world. His only problem is that he has a co-inheritor, Draco Malfoy. ★ HD Hurt-Comfort Fest 2024 | @hd-hurtcomfort-fest

2. The Cat-astrophe by Anonymous [E, 4k]

Harry Potter can't sleep. Grimmauld Place is being haunted by a vicious ghost of a cat who inflicts a magical injury onto Harry and the Ministry of Magic sends one of its Junior Unspeakables to investigate. The unspeakable in question being Draco Lucius Malfoy. ★ Unleashed! Fest 2024 | @unleashed-fest

3. A Line-storm Song by Anonymous [E, 12k]

Harry holds it together for five years after the war. Well—he sort of holds it together. Then his Auror partner Pansy Parkinson says it’s going to rain. ★ HP Drizzle Fest 2024 | @hpdrizzle

[nanamincreampie]

Frat Boy Gojo

Gojo Satoru x Black plus size reader

Warnings: 18+ mdni, Cocky Gojo catching feelings, mildly spicy towards the end

(part 2)

Fratboy Gojo who first sat next to you in business class because all the other seats were taken, and you didn’t think much of it at first. He’d been in the same class for weeks now, always loud and joking around with Suguru, but the moment he sits beside you, his energy shifts. He’s quieter, trying to play it cool while glancing at you from the corner of his eye, not wanting to seem obvious.

Fratboy Gojo who strikes up casual conversation between lectures, flashing you that dazzling smile of his. “So, we’ve been in this class together for a minute, but I never caught your name.” You introduce yourself, and he repeats it under his breath like he’s savoring it. From then on, he makes sure to say your name every chance he gets, loving the way it rolls off his tongue.

Fratboy Gojo who tries so hard to play it cool, denying to himself that he’s into you. You’re different from the usual girls he’s used to hanging around with. You’ve got this confidence, this fire in you that keeps pulling him in, but he brushes it off. After all, you’re both focused on school, and besides, he’s Gojo Satoru, he’s not supposed to catch feelings. Or so he tells himself.

Fratboy Gojo who starts showing up earlier to class just to get the seat next to you. He’ll lean back in his chair with his legs sprawled out, acting nonchalant, but every time you talk, his eyes are locked on you. He loves your voice, the way you speak your mind, and he finds himself laughing a little too hard at your jokes, even when they’re at his expense.

Fratboy Gojo who sees you at one of his frat’s parties after weeks of trying to suppress how he feels. He’s standing by the keg with Suguru, laughing and joking around, but the second you walk in, his entire world shifts. You’re wearing a tight bodycon dress that clings to every curve of your body, and Gojo's gaze immediately locks onto you. The dress hugs your plump ass, accentuating its roundness with a perfect fit that leaves little to the imagination. His eyes trail over the smooth curve of your thighs, which are highlighted by the dress, and the way they lead up to your hips creates a breathtaking silhouette.

Fratboy Gojo who can’t help but admire the way your dress showcases your chest, which is beautifully full and confidently on display. The fabric stretches just enough to reveal the gentle swell of your cleavage, drawing his attention. The way your tummy peeks out from under the dress, soft and inviting, adds to the irresistible allure of your figure. The whole look is completed by your knotless braids, which cascade down your back in a smooth, effortless flow. They frame your face and add a touch of elegance to your already captivating appearance.

Fratboy Gojo who’s never seen you like this before so confident, sexy, and absolutely owning the room. The combination of your curves and the way you carry yourself makes it clear that you’re in control, and for the first time, Gojo is at a loss for words. His mouth goes dry, and he finds himself staring, unable to tear his eyes away from the stunning vision you present.

Fratboy Gojo who can’t take his eyes off you as you make your way through the crowd, your hips swaying with every step. He’s completely stunned, his usual cocky demeanor slipping as he stares at you, his jaw slightly slack. Suguru notices immediately and nudges him, laughing. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, man. What’s got you so shook?”

Fratboy Gojo who ignores Suguru’s teasing, determined not to let this moment slip by. He pushes off the wall, weaving through the crowd with that signature confidence of his, but on the inside, he’s all nerves. The closer he gets to you, the faster his heart beats, and when he finally reaches you, his smirk is back in place, but there’s something softer in his eyes. “Didn’t expect to see you here, babe. You look... incredible.”

Fratboy Gojo who doesn’t even bother with small talk. He’s been waiting for this moment for weeks, so he gets straight to the point. “You wanna dance?” It’s less of a question and more of a statement because he’s already holding out his hand, knowing you won’t say no. And when you take it, his fingers wrap around yours, sending a jolt of electricity through his veins.

Fratboy Gojo who leads you to the dance floor, pulling you close with his hands settling on your waist, thumbs brushing the fabric of your dress. He can’t help but let his eyes roam, appreciating every curve, every dip of your body as you move together. The music is loud, but all he can focus on is the way you feel against him, soft and warm, fitting perfectly in his arms.

Fratboy Gojo who leans in close as the bass thumps around you, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I’ve been trying to keep my cool around you,” he admits, his voice low and husky, “but you’re making it real hard tonight.” His words are laced with a playful edge, but there’s something genuine underneath, something that tells you this isn’t just another one of his games.

Fratboy Gojo who as the dance nears its end, feels the heat between you both reaching its peak. His hands slide lower, drawing you even closer, and as the music slows, he can’t resist any longer. He tilts your chin up gently, his eyes locked onto yours, and in a moment of electrifying tension, he leans in and captures your lips with his. The kiss is passionate, filled with the longing he’s been hiding, and as it deepens, you can feel the intensity of his feelings. The world around you fades away, leaving only the heat of his kiss and the rhythm of your hearts beating in sync.

Fratboy Gojo who, for the rest of the night, doesn’t leave your side. Whether you’re dancing, grabbing drinks, or just talking, he’s there, his presence magnetic. He’s not usually one to stick with one person at a party, but with you, it’s different. He’s captivated, and for once, he’s not hiding it.

Fratboy Gojo who by the end of the night, can’t resist teasing you one last time as you’re about to leave. “You should come to more of these parties. You definitely made this one worth remembering.” He winks, but there’s something in his eyes that says he’s hoping you’ll stick around because the truth is, he’s not ready to let you go just yet.

[vanesycho]

Are you able to do a soft thoughts f!reader x Johnny? 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 when you get the chance. No rush I promise.

I love soft Johnny so much😭 he is a very huggable person😔 thank you for your request🤍🤍

Soft thoughts about Johnny ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

ღJohnny is someone who warms up everyone around him with his big smile. Just his looks can put you at ease. When he is with you, you can be sure that he will make the day brighter with his jokes and thoughtful thoughts. The size of his hands and his warm touches make you feel safe, just like a blanket you wrap yourself in on a cold day.

ღHis laughter is contagious. He can make you laugh heartily even on the worst day when he is with you. He has a voice that seems to take away all your stress. When you are on a long walk with him, watching the clouds in the sky and having a slow conversation, everything feels calmer and more peaceful.

ღHe is someone you will always feel comfortable with. If you are someone who is shy to go out in public, Johnny is perfect for that. He always makes you fit in, makes you feel comfortable. He notices when you are uncomfortable in a place and makes you have a better time alone.

ღHis hugs can be the best thing in the world. He always makes you feel warm. He does not hesitate to wrap his arms around you tightly, and although he is afraid of hurting you by squeezing too hard, he cannot control himself. Especially if you are going through a bad time, his warm hugs can make you forget everything.

ღHe loves to cook, if he wakes up earlier than you in the morning, you can find him in the kitchen already. He will give you a warm smile, approach you, kiss your forehead and hug you. He will whisper in your ear with his calm voice "Good morning baby, did you sleep well? I am preparing you the best breakfast you will ever eat, just wait a little bit."

ღI don't know why but he seems like someone who sings for no reason. When he comes in, he will hum a song and then his voice will rise, if you join him he will reach out his hand and make you do a little dance show. Finally he will pull you to him and kiss you on the lips and end your little concert with that.

As the song ended, Johnny looked into your eyes and kissed you romantically. His kisses were like the last note of the song, sweetly completing the moment. "That was the best part of the song."

ღHe seems like the kind of person who will tell you ridiculous stories before going to bed. Sometimes he will tell you the story of how you two met as a love story and you listen to it with a smile on your face every time "And that was the day the eternal love of the two main characters began..." when he realizes you are asleep halfway through the story he will give you a light kiss and mumble goodnight. But sometimes he can tell you the most ridiculous thing in the world, like a story about aliens and dinosaurs fighting.

"One day, the dinosaur commander, a T-Rex, targeted the aliens' base using a huge laser gun." You listened to him, unable to hold back your laughter. "...And just like that, the dinosaurs and the aliens never fought again. Because now both sides knew how bad ice cream was."

ღHe is good with words. He can give you the best advice and compliments, makes you feel better with small touches. He never hesitates to show his love, even if he doesn't say words of love to you, you can tell everything from the look in his eyes. The brightness of his eyes, the small smile on his lips, the small nods that show he listens to every word.

ღHe's really good at flirting. At first you thought he was a playboy but you realized he only acts like that because he really loves you, he doesn't talk to anyone else like that. He squeezes in some flirty sentences while talking and then continues talking as if nothing happened, leaving you surprised.

As he walks around the library with you, he looks at you who you were excitedly looking for the book you love. “You’re so cute, these books must make you feel excited, just like I feel when I'm with you you.” You looked at him in surprise, but he picked up a book without even looking at you. “Oh look, here’s the book you’re looking for. Let’s go, I’ll buy it for you.”

[blossom-hwa]

a very fine line, indeed [8] | c.bg

pairing: Beomgyu x fem!reader genre:  fluff, angst, enemies to lovers, regency era!au, nobility!au warnings: mentions of assault, abuse, cursing, period typical misogyny word count: 11.2k notes:  — updates every M/W/F at 8pm EST until the series finishes — assault/abuse scenes are not graphic, but please heed the warnings and let me know if any of it is romanticized or just written in poor taste--I assure you I did not mean it, and I will fix anything needed. — inspiration taken from an amalgamation of different bridgerton stories - let me know what easter eggs you find! — story takes place in the same universe as my duke!yeonjun and earl!taehyun fics - check out the link to the series below for some more easter eggs :) In a society where it only takes a year for a young woman in search of a husband to be considered out of season, it is no wonder that by your third year out, you are desperate to marry. Known as one of the beauties of the ton, such a task should not be difficult for you—but with an absent father, no dowry, and a reputation centered around your inability to keep your mouth shut around one certain Beomgyu Choi, your prospects are more limited than you’d like. While you cannot recover your family or your wealth, however, the one thing you can try to control is your reputation. So when the third season rolls around, you resolve to keep your distance from Beomgyu Choi, your childhood enemy, and the man you hate most in the world. Enter Beomgyu Choi, second son of the Kensington Viscountcy, one of the most eligible bachelors in the ton. His older brother, cousin, and good friend have all recently married, leaving the mamas to salivate at his doorstep for the chance of marrying one of their daughters to him. When Beomgyu walks in on a particularly traumatizing moment between you and one of the most unsavory men in the ton and learns of your desperation to marry, despite your history of enmity, he proposes you a devious deal—to pretend to court you. It seems like a winning situation for both of you—more gentlemen will take notice of you, enhancing your prospects, and he will have the ton’s mamas off his back—and so, despite your misgivings, you agree. With you hell bent on marriage and Beomgyu completely indifferent to the concept, even independent of your hatred for each other, it seems unlikely that any sort of true affection will bloom. But as you begrudgingly put aside your differences to spend more and more time in one another’s company, and as you grow to know each other beyond your ill-conceived preconceptions from childhood, you begin to realize that perhaps you two have more in common than you had once thought. And as your faked acquaintanceship becomes more truth than fiction, a friendship beginning to bloom most unexpectedly— Perhaps you no longer need to convince the ton of the veracity of your courtship, because anyone with eyes can see that it is true.  Part 7 >> Part 8

Series Masterlist | TXT Masterlist

It’s been a week since you took unwilling part in the biggest scandal to overtake the ton this entire season, and you’re feeling more and more certain with each passing day that your reputation will never recover.

You thought the same thing at the beginning of the season, just a few months ago. At the time, you thought it couldn’t get any worse. Funny how time ends up proving you wrong. 

Of course, you have no idea how the ton is receiving any of the gossip. You know the facts, as does everyone else who was in the room when it all happened, but that doesn’t matter. Someone will undoubtedly distort them for the sake of a good story. Your stepmother has been refusing all calls on your behalf, though, so you have no clue what the ton is saying. It’s not like she would tell you, anyway. The morning after the Jung ball she slapped you across the face so hard you saw stars, and you had to listen to her scream at you for an hour after that. When you tried to ask her what people were saying about you a few days ago, she gave you another mark to match the first one.

The bruises still hurt to the touch. 

Maybe it’s just as well. You’re not sure you want to know what anyone is saying. The gossip about you and Beomgyu had hardly abated before the Jung ball, and with all the speculation then about you being sort of shameless whore able to seduce men into offering you marriage proposals, you can only imagine what they’re saying about you now. They probably think you seduced Lord Cho, too. 

They probably think you deserved whatever he intended to do to you. 

Which isn’t true. You never asked for any sort of physical relationship with him, never even considered it. You said no when he offered it—if the word offered could even describe the situation. Stupid as it is, you really did believe he wanted to marry you, and his words cut you deep when you learned of his true intentions. But the cynical part of you can’t help but feel like you got what was coming to you. You should have known better—known that no one would truly ever want to marry you, because you have nothing to offer. Maybe it’s true that you aren’t fit for anything more than a mistress. 

If you didn’t have so much damn pride, maybe you’d have been able to accept that by now. 

You can forget any delusions of being married, now. If you weren’t already ruined by Beomgyu leaving you after the waltz, surely this incident has marked you as a fallen woman—or at least as close to it as you can get without having actually been deflowered. Never mind that you never asked for it. Never mind that you had to beat him off with a damn candlestick. No one wants a woman who’s been sullied by another man’s touch, no matter how unwarranted. 

Maybe it’s really time for you to start making plans to run away. 

Even as the thought crosses your mind, though, you have to stifle a snort. Pausing in the middle of scrubbing out a large pot, you close your eyes for just a moment, hoping to clear out all of your remaining stupid thoughts. Run away, yes? With what money? You have nothing. This family has nothing. There’s nothing useful you can even steal from the house, and your father isn’t coming back with any money. This, you know now. 

You can still hear the terrible silence that accompanied the opening of that letter. Your stepmother’s simmering rage as her eyes scanned every carefully penned line that told of the passing of your father, and the loss of any remnants of the family fortune at the hands of his gambling addiction. You had no idea he had such an addiction. The few times you saw him over the past decade, he always seemed so stoic, so upright. You never thought he could have been hiding something so terrible behind that façade. 

But he was. And now he is dead, and he has passed nothing onto you except a mountain of terrible fortune. 

There’s really no end to it. You sigh, returning to the pot still half covered in suds in the sink. Maybe this is for the better. You’ll grow into a spinster, hide yourself from society with your position as a servant in this household, and fade away from public attention. In a few years, people will forget about everything. Maybe. Hopefully. And then you’ll have some peace of mind. 

…There’s no real hope of that, though. You’ll never have peace as long as you live with your stepmother. Maybe that’s your eternal punishment for all the stupid choices you made this season—having to live with her until she dies, or you do. 

At least she’s gone now. She left a while ago to make some morning calls, you think. You tried to ask who she was going to meet and she just snapped that she was trying to clean up the mess you had made of yourself and your family this season. 

Very useful information, that was. You didn’t press though. You didn’t want to add on to the collection of bruises already beginning to bloom across your cheek. 

She’s gone now, though, and you haven’t heard her return, so you have some time to breathe without her sneering down her nose at you every minute of the day. The silence is nice even if you know it’ll be short lived.

Something sounds in the hall as you’re scrubbing the last pot clean. You stiffen, thinking it might be your stepmother, but it still feels like it hasn’t been long since she left—surely she wouldn’t be back so soon? You look over at Soyoung, who’s helping you scrub away. Her raised eyebrow indicates she’s as confused as you are.

Footsteps sound down the hallway, and then you hear Brighton speaking. Your confusion increases by the second—surely no one has any reason to call, not when your stepmother has been chasing away callers almost every day. You wonder if Brighton will have them leave too, whoever they are, but he likely won’t. Without your stepmother here, he would probably defer to you, unless she left him with explicit instructions not to. Though he might disobey them anyway. The staff here don’t take very kindly to your stepmother. 

The thought makes you smile, but that smile quickly begins to drop as Brighton’s characteristic light footsteps sound closer and closer to the kitchen. You finish rinsing off the last pot just as he enters the kitchen, standing primly in the doorway. 

“Miss L/N.” 

You turn around, wiping your hands on your apron. “Yes, Brighton?”

A hint of distaste edges his words. “Mr. Choi has come to call.”

Despite the situation, you almost smile. You can’t say you don’t appreciate the staff’s quiet support at your situation. No doubt they’ve heard all manner of gossip from the other servants around town, but you told Soyoung what truly happened so your staff has been very kind to you since everything started going downhill. Brighton in particular has taken to speaking the Choi name with a subtle, almost undetectable annoyance that only butlers can emulate, and you won’t deny that it makes you feel a little better, sometimes. Not because you hate Beomgyu—you wish you could hate him, it would make everything so much easier—but because it’s nice to know that someone has your back.

The almost smile slips off your face almost as easily as it came, though. Because you really don’t know if you want to see him. He was right about Lord Cho, right from the start—and all you and everyone else did was just brush his concern off as jealousy. You don’t want to face him. You don’t want to know what he has to say. And truth be told, you’re still not entirely sure you forgive him for what he did at the Haynesworth ball. He tried to explain when he called the last time. You didn’t let him. You’re still not sure if you want to let him. Anger is the only shield you have now against your pain and you’re not ready to give up its embrace so soon, even if its warmth is more suffocating than nourishing. 

There is another warmth that is nourishing, though. A warmth you’ve only ever felt with those you loved. Delia, Henry, Soyoung…

And Beomgyu, too.

All of the residual anger drains out of your body, leaving you cold and a little empty. You look down at yourself, at your dirty servant’s garb splashed with water and soap, at your tender hands still holding a sponge covered in suds. You should hear him out, let him speak, but you’re just…so tired. You want this all to be over. And anyway, even if you knew you wanted to speak with him, you don’t know when your stepmother will return from her own morning calls—calls meant to repair your reputation, whatever the hell that means. She might come back in the middle of a conversation and you really don’t want to know what would happen then. 

That’s just an excuse, though. You know that just the thought of your stepmother wouldn’t be able to stop you from doing anything you really wanted to. The question is, then, do you really want to see Beomgyu? Do you really?

“For what it is worth,” Brighton says, interrupting your thoughts, “he has tried to call every morning since the Jung ball, Miss L/N.” He twists his hands together in an uncharacteristic show of uncertainty. “Your stepmother turned him away each time, but…perhaps he truly does have something to say.”

Every morning since the Jung ball. You blink. That’s…dedication. It reminds you an awful lot of how he tried to see you almost every day for a week after the Haynesworth ball, which in turn reminds you of that terrible last conversation you shared with him. He had wanted to explain himself. You hadn’t let him. Instead, you’d told him never to come back and he had heeded your words then, but now he’s returned. 

Part of you still hurts at what he did to you—or rather, what he didn’t do. Even now you can still call up some of that anger and you try to wrap it around you like a cloak, but it isn’t doesn’t work anymore. There isn’t enough anger left to shield you, which just leaves you open. Raw. Vulnerable to your emotions. 

The emotions telling you to listen to him this time, instead of just sending him away. 

You stare at your hands. You know that Beomgyu wouldn’t hold it against you if you told him to leave. He wouldn’t argue. He would give you space. And you really, really hate that. If he wasn’t so honorable, it would be so much easier to hate him. You would never have fallen in love with him in the first place. 

Life would be so much easier, then. 

But he is honorable. You may still be angry at what he did at the Haynesworth ball, but you also have the grudging grace (or maybe the idiocy) to understand that one mistake does not dictate a person’s entire character. You remember Beomgyu holding you as you shook so badly in his arms just moments after Lord Cho had tried to lay his hands on you, and you can’t help but recall how safe you felt in his hold. Not completely so—Lord Cho was right there, obviously you wouldn’t feel completely fine—but Beomgyu lent a steadiness to the moment that you needed, desperately. You trusted him without thinking. Without even feeling. 

Maybe that says something. Maybe that says a lot of things. 

You swallow hard. He’s already in your house. He’s come by every day, even though he’s been turned away each time—not by your choice, but by your stepmother’s. This might be the only chance you get to hear him out. 

You’d be a fool not to take it.

“Do you know when my stepmother will be back?” you ask quietly. 

“She left not long ago,” Brighton replies. “I do not know for certain, but I would estimate you have at least two hours before she returns.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. Two hours is likely enough time to talk. Sabine is taking care of the children in the nursery, which leaves Soyoung or Brighton to chaperone. You don’t have time to change or to cover up the marks on your cheek, but you don’t really want to. Part of you wants to approach Beomgyu with this part of yourself on display. To let him see you as you are. 

You stand up and take a deep breath. “Then bring him in.”

. . . . .

When your butler bids him to come inside, Beomgyu has to bite his tongue to stifle his shock. It’s been a week since the Jung ball and though he’s called every morning since then, the response has always been the same—that you aren’t taking visitors, and won’t be for the near future. The setup feels eerily familiar to when he tried to see you after the Haynesworth ball, though he supposes that is just what comes with scandal. The ton’s memory is like that of a goldfish. Once something else happens, they move on quickly. 

In theory, at least. In practice, the memories stick around for a bit longer than gossip suggests. 

Today, though, the butler—Brighton, he thinks—allows him inside. Before shutting the door, Beomgyu sees him cast a furtive glance towards the street, which leads Beomgyu to believe he might not actually be allowed to be here. Still, he appreciates being let in so he doesn’t comment as the butler leads him through the short hallway and into the drawing room. He then disappears to find you.

It seems to take forever for the butler to return, or at least for Beomgyu to hear any sounds indicating you might actually see him. He half expects to be told to leave and honestly, he wouldn’t blame you for it. He can’t really think of a reason why you would want to see him in the first place, but he just wants to make sure you are all right. Or as all right you can be after what happened. 

God, he really wishes he had done Lord Cho’s face in. The man would have deserved it—just one quick punch to break his nose. But then Beomgyu wouldn’t have been there to catch you when the shock set in and you nearly fell, your entire body trembling as you sank into his arms. Anyway, you already hit Lord Cho over the head with that silver candlestick, and that gave Beomgyu more than enough satisfaction to witness. 

Footsteps sound down the hall—more than one pair, it seems. Beomgyu straightens where he stands and his heart begins to race as you step into the room. 

He almost gasps but bites his tongue just in time. In all the times he’s seen you, you’ve never not been dressed for society—fine gowns, light jewelry, pretty smiles. Now, though, Beomgyu almost doesn’t recognize you. 

Dressed in a plain servant’s garb, apron still damp and slightly stained, you stare back at him, expressionless. Your hands are bare, cracked and raw, and a bruise swells dark on your cheek. Anger twists in Beomgyu’s stomach when he realizes it looks very much like the mark left if someone had hit you. There’s no doubt it was your stepmother. 

You seem to track his gaze, unsurprised at whatever you find in his expression. Something hard glints in your eyes and Beomgyu recognizes it as a test. You could have made him wait for you to change, to get ready for a typical call, but you didn’t. You chose to show yourself like this, rags and calluses and all, for a reason.

Well, if this is a test, then he will do all he can to pass it. Beomgyu holds himself tall and bows just as he always has even though the bruise on your cheek makes him want to throttle something. “Miss L/N,” he says in greeting. 

You look back at him steadily for a moment. Then suddenly your shoulders slump, as though you can’t hold yourself up anymore. “Mr. Choi,” you say wearily. “Why are you here?”

Your refusal to call him by his given name hurts more than it should, but Beomgyu forces the pain to pass. It’s no less than he deserves. “I wanted to see if you were all right,” he replies quietly. 

As the words come out of his mouth, he realizes how stupid they are. Obviously you aren’t fine. After what happened, no one in your situation would have been fine. The evidence is staring him right in the face—even if it weren’t for the bruise, the weariness on your face speaks volumes. 

“Well, you have seen me.” The corners of your lips lift slightly, though there is no mirth in the movement. “If that is all, I will be going now.” You turn around as though to leave. 

Beomgyu moves before he even realizes it. You flinch when he catches your wrist, but to his surprise, you don’t pull away. Not immediately. “Y/N,” he says, and you seem to shudder in his hold like when he held you that night. “Please.”

You remain silent for a moment. “Please, what, Mr. Choi?” you ask harshly. “You got what you wanted. You saw me. What else could you need?” You laugh. The sound scratches at Beomgyu’s ears. “Do you want to gloat? Over the fact that you were right about Lord Cho, and I wasn’t? Because that’s low, low even for you—”

Beomgyu takes a small step forward and you cut yourself off. He lets your words pass over him—you’re angry. Maybe even frightened. You’ve spat insults at him before that you actually meant, so Beomgyu knows the difference between that and you simply lashing out from your pain. “I didn’t come to gloat,” he says quietly. 

Your expression crumples. “Then why are you here?”

“I wanted to apologize.” His next words come unbidden. “And I wanted to ask if you would marry me.”

A long pause follows his unplanned declaration. Beomgyu doesn’t panic, though. Because even though he hadn’t intended to give his proposal right then and there, he still meant the words. They just came out a little early. 

“Why?” you finally ask. 

Beomgyu’s heart nearly breaks at your shattered expression, the obvious exhaustion written all over your face. You didn’t deserve this—none of it. If only he hadn’t been such an idiot, if only he hadn’t run away instead of facing his feelings earlier… “Because I love you,” he says, voice trembling. “And if you will allow me, I should like to explain.”

He watches you swallow, throat bobbing as you look down at where his hand still clasps your wrist. You keep looking there for a very long time. “Then explain,” you finally allow, but you don’t look back up at him. 

Beomgyu tries to hide how much that hurts him. It isn’t as though he has a right to feel hurt, anyway. “I am…incredibly sorry for what I did. Or what I didn’t do, I suppose.” He swallows. “I am well aware that no verbal apology of mine could ever make up for leaving you at the Haynesworth ball and I do not intend to make excuses.”

Your eyes finally shift up to his. There’s nothing in your gaze, nothing to give any indication that what he’s saying is right, but Beomgyu has been a coward long enough and he won’t continue that streak now. “I should not have asked you to waltz.” 

Your gaze shutters immediately and you go to pull away. Beomgyu almost panics and tugs your wrist back. “I did not mean it that way,” he says quickly. “I only meant…I was not proper. I should have asked if you had permission first. I should have asked if you were fine with it. I should have remembered the social repercussions of asking you to share such a dance.”

You jerk your wrist out of his hand, but you don’t leave. “Then why didn’t you?” you ask sharply. 

Beomgyu winces. There’s really no way to make “Lord Cho smirked at me which made me extremely upset” sound any better than that, but he has to try. “I was already upset that Lord Cho had been keeping your attentions the entire evening,” he says. Embarrassment creeps its way up his neck. “I was jealous. And at some point, when I was about to just leave the whole affair all together, he…gave me a look, that made me believe he was doing this on purpose. That he had been keeping you engaged the entire evening to avoid me.” The words, once they leave his lips, sound entirely self-serving and rather egotistic. But he swore to himself he would honest and, well, this is what he felt. “I probably sound rather self-centered,” he admits. “But it seemed that way to me.”

You don’t say anything. You hardly react, even. Beomgyu supposes this is at least better than if you were to scoff at him immediately. “I wanted to dance with you,” he says quietly. “I had waited several hours that night just for the hope of speaking to you. I did not realize it was a waltz before we took to the ballroom floor, but even then, at first, I truly did not care. In fact, I was enjoying it. You…you were so beautiful. You always have been.” He swallows. “But there was a moment where we met eyes and I…it hit me then. That I was in love with you.”

You’ve gone as still as a statue. Only your eyes move, warily tracking his every movement. 

“I was scared. Terrified.” Beomgyu clenches his hands at his sides and feels his nails biting sharply into his palms. “I suppose I had some inkling of it before, but I refused to think of it. I was too scared to—I had hated you for so long and we’d only been civil for a few months. I thought, surely, it could not be so. I could not love you in such a short time. But as we were dancing, and as I held you so…” Against his will, his eyes drift to your lips. “I remembered our kiss,” he says quietly. “And I knew, then, that I loved you.”

This time, you do scoff. “You have a funny way of showing it,” you say, bitterness coating every word. 

Beomgyu flinches, but it isn’t as if your words aren’t deserved. “I was a coward,” he admits. “An incredible coward. I realized it then and I couldn’t face it. I couldn’t think with everyone around us and I was so confused and terrified by the prospect of loving you that I just…ran.” He drops his head, finally. 

“You were so scared of loving me.” You snort. “Me. Yes. Because I’m just another one of the dowry-less crowd, full of scandal and Lady Whistledown mentions. Who in their right mind would ever fall in love with me?”

“It wasn’t because of that!” Beomgyu looks up at you, stricken. “Y/N—Miss L/N—do you have any idea how impressive you are?”

For the first time today, you look shocked into speechlessness. Beomgyu’s own face is starting to redden but he forges on. “You—I was terrified of how quickly I had fallen in love with you,” he gets out. “For weeks after we kissed, I couldn’t stop dreaming of it. I wanted to kiss you again. So badly. And it was—terrible. I wanted to be around you and only you. I was jealous of Lord Cho and anyone who seemed to be interested in asking for your hand. But I just could not believe I was in love with you, because you are…well, you.” He gestures vaguely. “Sweet, kind, intelligent, witty…”

God, the more he talks, the stupider he feels for not having realized his feelings sooner. 

“You are you, Miss L/N,” Beomgyu says. “Incredibly lovely and impressive, extraordinarily strong and brave.” A wave of shame washes over him at the truth of his words. You apologized first. You asked to be friends first. Every step of your relationship beyond the first fake deal was initiated by you, and the moment he realized his feelings, all he did was run. “I was terrified of how deeply I had fallen for you,” he says quietly. “Terrified of how much I felt for you in such a short time. It was cowardly of me to run. I should have stayed with you, and I will forever regret that. In the moment, though…it was too much for me to process all at once” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t expect you to forgive me for it. But that is my explanation, in the end. As idiotic as it sounds.”

You look away for a moment. Your cheek turns to him, and again Beomgyu sees the bruise your stepmother left on your skin. The momentary anger bolsters him enough to meet your gaze when you turn back to him. “I trusted you, you know.” More than your words, the exhaustion in your voice strikes Beomgyu to the core. “I trusted you to know the dance, and what it would mean to the ton. What it would mean to me.” You laugh slightly, but there is no humor in the sound. “I thought you might propose to me then.”

Beomgyu bows his head. “I am incredibly sorry,” he says quietly. “Nothing can excuse what I did.”

“It can’t,” you agree. “But it doesn’t matter anymore. It has already happened, and anyway, it’s not the worst thing a man has done to me this season.”

He stares at you. Did you just joke about Lord Cho’s assault? 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you snap, hunching into yourself. “It’s true.”

Beomgyu swallows. “I…suppose it is,” he mumbles. 

For a long moment, you two remain silent. “Nothing may excuse what you did,” you finally say, “but at least I can understand it.” And as Beomgyu is reeling from your response, trying to make sense of it, you step back. “I accept your apology,” you say. “And I appreciate it. But I think it is best that you go now, Mr. Choi.” You start to walk away. “Brighton will see you out.”

Beomgyu gapes, even as the butler comes back into the room. You said you understood. Understood feeling so strongly that it terrified you, understood the urge to run away that he gave in to—

Brighton steps toward him but Beomgyu ignores him, catching your wrist again. “Y/N!”

You stop, but you don’t look back. “What?”

Beomgyu senses that he only has one chance for this. Just one chance to say the right thing, or you’ll walk away and leave him forever. “What did you mean,” he asks, voice ragged, “when you said you understood?”

You turn to him, derision scrawled across your face. “You are a true idiot,” you snap, “if you believe you were the only one who dreamed of the kiss for days afterward.” Then you turn again and try to walk away, but Beomgyu keeps his grip on your wrist. “What is it now?” you snarl, whirling back around.

Everything is hitting him too hard, too fast, but this time, instead of running, Beomgyu stays put. You dreamed of the kiss. You thought of it for days on end just as he did, your eyes drifting to his lips the way his drifted to yours. Suddenly Beomgyu remembers moments when he saw your gaze fixated on his mouth for mere fractions of a second before you returned to the conversation, moments when you smiled at him and there was a shyness in your expression that he had never seen before…

He remembers the waltz and how you settled so comfortably into his hold, eyes sparkling, lips parted as he lowered you into the crook of his arm. You were so warm. So trusting. So full of a joy and hope that made his heart race. 

“I trusted you to know the dance, and what it would mean to the ton. What it would mean to me.” 

What it would mean to me. 

Beomgyu is an idiot. An absolute idiot. “Miss L/N,” he says slowly, “do you love me?”

Your eyes shutter. “It doesn’t matter.” 

He holds your gaze. “Yes, it does.”

“No, it doesn’t,” you grit out. You try to tug yourself away but he won’t let go. “Let go of me!”

He releases you immediately, memories of your cries a week ago forcing his hand open as soon as the words leave your mouth. But he doesn’t let you run away. “Answer my question,” he says. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you hiss. Beomgyu hears panic rising in your voice, some sort of fear pushing anger into your tone that he knows isn’t real. “What about that doesn’t make sense to you?”

“It does matter,” he says, cutting through your panic. “Because I asked you a question before that you still haven’t answered.”

You fall silent. 

“I asked you to marry me,” he says quietly, each word like a gunshot in the silence. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Brighton slip out of the room again. 

You say nothing. You don’t even look at him. It should discourage Beomgyu, but strangely, in the face of your silence, he feels more hopeful. “So I ask you again, Miss L/N,” he murmurs, stepping closer, “do you love me?”

“Why do you need to know?” you ask, voice less sharp, more pleading. “It doesn’t matter, Beomgyu!”

“If you can say no, then I’ll leave.” He puts his hands up in surrender, but privately he feels even more hope with the sound of his name from your lips. “I swear it. But you must answer me.” His voice lowers, almost to a whisper. “Do you love me?”

Your silence is more telling than anything you said before.

Beomgyu takes a leap of faith. “If you do…” He swallows. “Then marry me, Y/N.” 

You stay quiet for a long time. A clock ticks nearby, slowly marking every second that passes. Beomgyu feels as wound up as a spring, his muscles so tense it almost hurts, but he doesn’t move. He won’t move. Not until you speak.

And eventually, you do. 

“My father is dead.” 

Beomgyu’s eyes widen. Your lips curve a little, but the movement holds no humor. “We received the letter a few days ago.” 

“…I am incredibly sorry.”

“I’m not.” Your words are callous but you shrug like they mean nothing—and perhaps, after all these years, they don’t. “I hardly knew him and he hardly knew any of us. All these years, we thought he was trying to make money overseas, but he had actually gambled it all away.” You shrug again. “He died over a year ago. It took that long for anyone to try and track us down. The country home will need to be sold to pay off his debts. This house is all we really have left and we might be on the verge of losing that too, so I don’t care for him at all.”

Beomgyu stays silent against the rolling tide of your fury. He has no right to judge the situation, and nothing he could say would soothe your anger anyway. He had two loving parents, a rarity in this ton—he can hardly imagine how you feel now, both biological parents dead, one having betrayed you without your knowing for years on end. 

“I didn’t tell you this for pity.” You take a deep breath, and some of the anger dissipates, replaced by your previous weariness. “But, Beomgyu…you won’t gain anything from marrying me. Nothing at all. I’m just another girl with nothing to my name except a heap of scandal. I don’t have a title. I don’t have money. I do chores in the household where I am supposed to be a lady and while I don’t care, if this were to spread to the rest of the ton, you would be ruined, too.” Beomgyu follows your gaze down to your bare hands, your palms rough and weathered, your fingertips raw and pricked. “There’s nothing for you to gain from this,” you say quietly. “Nothing at all.”

Beomgyu reaches out. When you don’t flinch away, he takes your hand. He rubs his thumb over the skin of your palm, skimming over the lines, the cracks, the scars. “I notice,” he says slowly, “that you have still not said no.”

You scoff. “Retract your proposal, and I won’t have to.”

“What if I don’t retract it?” he challenges. “Will you say no, then?”

“You’re an idiot not to!” you snap. You try to pull your hand away but this time Beomgyu doesn’t let go. You glare at him. “Did you not hear a single thing I just said? I can’t bring you anything but burden!”

“I love you.” 

With those three words, the fight drains out of you almost immediately. Your head slumps over your joined hands and when you finally look back at him, tears sparkle, unshed, in your eyes. “I love you,” Beomgyu says again and even though it feels like his heart is about to leap out of his chest, the words still feel so right, leaving his lips. “I love you, and I want to be with you. To be with you could never be a burden to me because I love you and everything that comes with you.” You open your mouth to say something but he barrels on. “I don’t care if you have no dowry. I’ve already told you it’s an outdated notion and I care nothing for it, and besides, my family has more than enough money. I don’t need more.” He takes a breath. “I don’t care that your hands will never be smooth. Your scars carry the weight of the care you have for those you love, and they have no bearing on the goodness of your heart. And as for your scandals…” Beomgyu smiles a little, surprised to find some genuine humor in what he is about to say. “I will not have you bear all the burden when the fault is also mine. I am at least half as responsible for all of those scandals as you are.”

You stay quiet. Beomgyu gives up tracing your palm, instead clasping both of his hands over yours. “I love you, Y/N,” he says softly. “None of these things change that, and they never will.”

“You’re an idiot,” you say. Your voice is surprisingly steady, but the last syllable trembles just as the first tear slips out of your eye. “You’re an incredible idiot, Beomgyu. You know all of this—you know what sort of new scandal it would create if we married—”

“What does it say about you, then, that you have still not given me a reply?”

“I’m also an idiot!” you yell. “A bloody fucking stupid idiot who loves you against all of her better judgement. I loved you when you waltzed with me, I loved you when you left me, I loved you when you gave me those gloves—even though I didn’t even it know it then. I thought about you kissing me for days on end and I asked you to be my friend just so you wouldn’t stop speaking to me, looking at me, because I couldn’t stand the thought of seeing you everywhere and not being able to talk to you. I loved you and I still love you because I’m an idiot. A bloody, stupid idiot—” You cut yourself off as tears begin to spill down your face. You harshly wipe them off. “I don’t want to say no because I love you, you stupid fool. Despite everything I still love you and I always will, and I need you to realize that this is a terrible idea because—because this will be a mistake, it will be a huge mistake for you if you marry me, but I—I don’t know if I can say no.”

Beomgyu lets go of your hand. You flinch, no doubt expecting him to step away, but he instead comes closer. This is hugely improper but Beomgyu doesn’t care as he lifts his hand to your cheek to brush away the tears as they come. “Then say yes,” he whispers.

You shake your head wildly. “This is a mistake, Beomgyu. You’re making a huge mistake.”

“You have never been a mistake,” he says quietly. “Not once. Not ever. It was only my mistakes that got us to this point. If I hadn’t been so terrified and unable to cope with my own feelings…” He swallows around the shame that rises bitterly on his tongue. “I am the one who left you at the ball. That was my mistake. But if you can still trust me, Y/N, trust me when I say that loving you was never a mistake for me.”

“I can���t do anything good for you,” you say miserably. “Society will talk about this forever.”

“They’ll talk about it forever anyway,” Beomgyu points out. “And I don’t know about you, but I’m somewhat past caring about what they think of you and me. They’ll never get the facts right, and I can’t control that, but…I know that I love you.” His thumb sweeps another tear from your cheek. “And if you love me too…”

“I do.” Your voice is hardly a whisper but the two words embed themselves in Beomgyu’s heart, warmth slowly filling his blood. “I do love you.”

“Then that’s all that matters.” Beomgyu gently presses his forehead to yours. “I don’t care what the ton will say. I want you to be with me, forever. You say you can do no good for me but just having you near me…Y/N, I have never felt this way for another in my life.” He slides an arm around your waist, pulling you closer gently, gently. “You are the best thing that has happened to me. I should be honored to have you with me wherever I go. I don’t care what you can and can’t do for me. Being around you, being with you…that is all I want. All I need.”

You take a shuddering breath. “Beomgyu…”

“I’ll take you everywhere, Y/N. We’ll travel far away, go wherever and see whatever you want. We don’t need to stay here. We can deal with the ton as much or as little as you want to.” You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off. “Don’t worry about your servants or your family. I will provide a dowry for Delia. I will buy the house for your brother. Your servants can travel with us or stay in the home, and I will double their wages.” He takes a deep breath. “So say yes, Y/N.”

You swallow hard.

“Say yes,” he whispers again. “Please.”

You close your eyes. Tears wet your eyelashes, and Beomgyu fights the urge to brush them away, for that would break the two of you apart. You open your eyes and they’re red from crying but in this moment, Beomgyu knows he could never tire of this. Of having you close, of seeing you close, of being able to love you like this—freely, without regrets. 

“Yes.” The word ghosts over his lips, your breath soft like the wind against his skin. “Yes, Beomgyu.” You swallow hard, and though another tear rolls down your face, Beomgyu dares to believe it isn’t from sadness—that there could be some happiness joining the myriad of emotions on your face. “I will marry you.”

. . . . .

The next morning dawns uneventfully, which almost tricks you into thinking the previous day was just a dream. There’s no proof that anything happened beyond your memories, and even then, the idea that Beomgyu proposed to you seems almost too fantastical to be true. 

But it did happen. You can still feel Beomgyu’s hands encasing yours, his thumb smoothing over the cracks and lines on your palm like his touch could take away the pain. You can feel his forehead pressed to yours, his arm around your waist, pulling you to him. You can feel him, his presence—feel the memories of him wrapped around you like a shield against the world. 

You have him, and you have his promise—the promise that he would return the next day, today, with a betrothal ring. The promise that he would marry you and take you far from this place. The promise that he would love you forever. 

“I will leave now, before your stepmother returns,” he had said, holding your hand. “But tomorrow I will come. I don’t care if your stepmother refuses callers—I will come. And I will have a betrothal ring, and we will be married as soon as we can.” And you had agreed, and he had kissed your hand like you were dressed in the finest silks and jewels rather than your dirty servant’s apron, and he left, and you believed him.

Maybe you are a fool for trusting him so after he left you once. But even knowing that…you still believe him. You still believe in the man who held Delia like a little princess. You still believe in the man who defended you from Lady Trombley. You still believe in the man who gave you the gloves. And when you hear people talking in the hallway just after the clock strikes ten, your heart lifts, setting several butterflies alight in your stomach. 

You were right to trust him. 

Unfortunately, as the minutes tick on, you start to suspect there might be some trouble. While you can’t quite hear what your stepmother is saying, the sound of her cold voice permeates through the walls enough that you can tell she doesn’t plan on letting Beomgyu in. You abandon your chores in the kitchen and follow the sound of her voice towards the hall. 

You run into Brighton first, thankfully. “What’s happening?” you ask, even though you’re almost certain you know what is going on. 

“You have a caller, Miss L/N,” he says. It’s all he gets out before your stepmother rounds the corner and interrupts. 

“We are not taking callers,” she snaps, face even more pinched than usual. “Get back into the house.”

You ignore her. “Who is the caller?”

“Mr. Choi.”

Nervous warmth begins to tingle in your fingertips, which almost makes you groan—this is not the time to be feeling any sort of fluttery butterfly-ness, not when your stepmother is right there. “Let him in.”

Your stepmother snarls. “You are taking no callers—”

“He wasn’t asking for you, Stepmother,” you retort coldly. “Brighton, please bring him in.”

Brighton, smart man that he is, immediately departs. You brace yourself for your stepmother’s inevitable incoming tirade. There isn’t much in this hallway to put between you and her, so you can only hope Brighton comes back quickly. 

“You are not the head of this household.”

You glance at the end of the hallway. You really hope Brighton comes back soon. 

“You technically aren’t, either.” You take a step back but your stepmother advances faster, her eyes narrowed and sharp. “Henry is. But I don’t suppose you want to take orders from a four year old.”

There’s a flash of skin, a loud cracking sound, and then pain blooms across your left cheek. You cradle it instinctively, biting your lip against the pain. Well, at least the left side of your face will now be matching the right. 

Your sharp tongue never fails to get you into trouble these days. 

“Go back to the kitchen,” your stepmother snarls, her hands folded deceptively calmly at her waist. What a witch. “I will deal with you after I deal with Mr. Choi.”

“What, are you going to slap him too?” you snap. “He is my caller. I will receive him. You have no right—”

She laughs, high and sharp. “You wish for him to call on you now, when you look like this? Even if you weren’t buried in scandal, I would never let another see you in this dirty garb.”

“And whose fault is that?” You snort. “I wouldn’t be in this dirty garb if it weren’t for you. And for the record, Stepmother…” A smirk creeps across your lips. “He has already seen me like this.”

Horror flashes across her expression. “You—”

“I did.” You let your smirk widen. “He knows.”

You hear the slap before you feel it. The force of her hand against your cheek nearly knocks you against the wall and you don’t manage to stifle your cry, pressing your palm to your cheek in a futile effort to relieve some of the pain. A sharp sting rushes up your face, though, and when you pull your palm away, there’s a thin streak of blood. Her ring must have cut you again. 

“You’re an idiot,” you say as calmly as you can. “Mr. Choi is here. In this house. Brighton will be back with him in moments. Do you think it will benefit you at all for him to see me like this? To see you like this?”

She blanches. You keep talking, years of rage boiling over. “What, lost your tongue?” You laugh humorlessly. “All these years you’ve kept me pent up like this, one of your worst secrets—cleaning for you, washing for you, sewing your clothes and mine—you’re lucky I cared enough about Delia and Henry not to say anything.” A sneer curls your lips. “You hit me and you slap me and you know it’s wrong, you know it’s bloody wrong because you never do it in front of the children! Why do you hate me so much? What did I ever do to deserve—”

You see it coming—the hand rising, the palm flashing. Instinctively you flinch. Your eyes slam shut and you cringe away from the hand, covering your cheek as some small protection against the impact. 

But it never comes. 

You open your eyes. Beomgyu stands beside your stepmother, fingers wrapped tightly around her still-raised wrist. If you weren’t almost hyperventilating, you might laugh at how comically wide her eyes are, but only a slight wheeze manages to press past your lips. 

“Miss L/N.” Brighton’s voice sounds next to your ear. You hadn’t registered his presence, but it calms you. “Are you all right?”

“Not—not really.” You look at Brighton, whose usually calm expression has twisted with anger, then at Beomgyu, whose face can only be described as the pure embodiment of cold rage. “But I’m fine.” You don’t take your hand away from your bleeding cheek as you meet Beomgyu’s eyes. “Beomgyu, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” Beomgyu drops your stepmother’s wrist and shoves past her, coming to  a stop right in front of you. For all the anger in his movements, his hand is surprisingly gentle as he pries your fingers away from your face, revealing whatever marks she left moments ago. You hiss as open air hits the cut, but Beomgyu’s thumb soothes it slightly. “Is there anything we can use to clean this?” he asks Brighton with deceptive calm. 

“I will bring something shortly.” The butler bows, then quickly leaves. 

Silence falls in the hallway, though Beomgyu’s anger clearly sizzles in the air. His dark eyes search yours for something, and only when his gaze falls to your cheek do you understand what he’s asking. 

“I’m fine,” you say quietly. “Or, I will be.”

It’s clear Beomgyu isn’t happy with your response, but he does seem to realize you don’t want to speak about this—at least not now. He nods almost imperceptibly, then turns to your stepmother. “Leave,” he snaps. He barely gives her a glance.

She gapes, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. If the situation weren’t so charged, you might laugh. “I will not be ordered about in my own home!” she finally manages, her cheeks turning blotchy with embarrassment.

“Good God.” You sigh. “With all due respect, Stepmother, isn’t this exactly what you wanted? For me to be married to a wealthy husband and out of your hair?” You sneer. “If you don’t leave, that fantasy will never come true.”

Her eyes widen more, if that was possible. “You—” She glances between you and Beomgyu wildly. “You want to marry her?”

“I don’t answer to abusers,” Beomgyu says coldly. 

“But—”

God, she is the absolute worst. “I don’t suggest you make Mr. Choi any angrier than he already is,” you snap. 

With a last incredulous glance, your stepmother hurries out of the hallway. You breathe a sigh of relief. Finally.

Beomgyu’s gaze immediately softens, though concern still burns in his eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” he says quietly. 

“You didn’t know.” You shrug. “It’s fine, Beomgyu. I’ll heal.”

“It’s not that,” he says, eyebrows furrowing. “It’s the fact that this has clearly been going on for a very long time—”

“That is true,” you interrupt. “But I couldn’t say anything then. And anyone who knew didn’t have the power to do anything about it. I am only glad now that I have someone who knows, and who might help protect me.” You take the hand still pressed to your cheek and squeeze it. “I will be fine.”

Beomgyu searches your expression for a long moment. Whatever he is looking for, he seems to find it, because he seems to relax slightly. “If you say so.”

“I do.” You smile, wincing when the movement hurts your cheek. Beomgyu clearly notices but he also clearly sees that you don’t want him to remark on it, so you’re very grateful when he says nothing. You let your voice take on a more playful tone. “Now, what are you here for?”

“Well, I came as I promised yesterday.” His voice takes on somewhat of an edge and you realize he seems almost nervous. It’s very endearing, and your smile widens. “I brought you a ring,” he continues, producing a small box from his pocket. “If you will still accept my suit.” He opens the box.

You gasp. A bright emerald decorates the simple gold band, flanked on each side by small diamonds. There isn’t much light in the hallway but the gems catch what light there is, sparkling cheerfully in the box. “It’s beautiful,” you whisper. 

Beomgyu lifts the ring from the box and takes your hand. “It is yours,” he says, voice clearly shaking a little, “if you should like to have it.”

“Of course I would.” To your surprise, you can feel tears coming to your eyes that aren’t just from pain. “My answer hasn’t changed, Beomgyu.”

Relief floods across his expression, a tension disappearing from his shoulders that you hadn’t noticed before. “Oh. That’s good,” he says, smiling slightly. “Good for me, I mean. I just…I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did.”

You keep quiet for a moment, choosing your next words carefully. “I can’t say I wasn’t hurt by what you did, Beomgyu,” you finally say. “I was.”

He nods, looking terribly guilty. 

“But I also know that you are not characterized only by your mistakes then.” You smile softly, folding your hands over his. “You are still the man who defended me from Lady Trombley. The man who helped me after Lord Cho. The man who gave me gloves.”

Beomgyu peers at you with his dark eyes, so soft, so kind. 

“Maybe it will take us time to work past this.” You shrug. “That’s fine. Everything takes time. But…I know, at least, that I want to work past this with you. I want to be with you.” Your smile grows, trembling on your lips. “We were idiots for so long. I’m just…I’m just glad we were able to get to this point, at least, without it being too late.”

“Well, we only have you to thank for that.” Beomgyu smiles softly, most of the awful guilt slipping off his face. “You were the one who apologized first.”

You make a face. “Desperation can do strange things to a person.”

“Desperation?”

Your cheeks feel warm. “After you kissed me, I couldn’t stop thinking of it.” You turn away, embarrassed. “I couldn’t stand the idea of not seeing you again either. I was desperate. So I apologized, because I at least wanted to be friends.”

Beomgyu’s fingers light on your chin, turning you back to him. “Well, you are far braver than I,” he says sheepishly. “I was too scared to say anything, for fear that you wouldn’t feel the same way.”

You smile teasingly. “That just means you have the rest of our lives to make up for it.” 

“Trust me, I will be.” And with that, he slides the ring onto your finger, the gold band comfortingly cool against your skin. 

You hold up the hand, admiring the sparkle of the gems even in the dim light of the hall. “It really is lovely,” you murmur.

“It’s one of the betrothal rings that has been in the family for a long time,” Beomgyu says. “Soobin had our mother’s, of course, because he is the first born, but I think this one suits you better anyway.”

The emerald glints against your finger, cheerful and bright. You haven’t seen the other rings in Beomgyu’s family collection, but you’re inclined to agree with him. The longer you look at it, the giddier you feel, even remembering everything that happened just minutes ago. It’s almost unbelievable. You’re going to be married. Married. And to someone you love, even. Your smile widens. 

“I can’t really believe this is happening,” you admit, almost in a whisper. It’s more to yourself than to Beomgyu, but he hears you anyway. 

“Me neither.” The society version of him is gone now, replaced by a shyer, almost boyish version of him that endears you far more than is good for the butterflies in your chest. “I mean, less than a few months ago we were still at each other’s throats.”

“I suppose you can claim all the credit for this, then.” You laugh. “You’re the one who suggested that ridiculous deal in the first place.”

“I may have suggested it, but you’re the one who took it to the next step.” Beomgyu grins. “Out of desperation.”

You hit him lightly as heat floods your cheeks. “Hey, you felt the same way!”

“I did, and I was an idiot for not acting on it sooner.” Beomgyu steps forward, taking your hands, and suddenly you’re so close you swear he could hear your heart beating right now. “I’m sorry for that.”

“Stop apologizing. I have already forgiven you.” A rush of boldness course through you and you lean your head against Beomgyu’s shoulder. He stiffens for a moment but relaxes so suddenly you almost flinch, and then his arms come to wrap around your waist. It reminds you of how he held you when you kissed and with that memory, you only sink deeper into his hold. “Anyway, what is that thing they say?” you mumble. “Something about there being a line in between love and hate?”

Beomgyu smiles and pushes you away, but just so he can look into your eyes. “There is a fine line,” he murmurs against your ear, his gaze drifting down to your lips, “between hatred and love.”

You laugh as he kisses you, his mouth soft and sweet against yours. “Yes,” you whisper when you pull away. “A very fine line, indeed.”

. . . . .

epilogue.

“Beomgyu!” You run down the stairs, nearly tripping over your skirts in the process. “Where are you? We’re going to be late—”

A hand catches your wrist as you fly down the last few steps. Beomgyu’s laugh rings out when you screech, his arm pulling you flush against him. “I’m right here,” he says into your ear. You hear the smile in his voice even though you can’t see it, pressed to his chest as you are. 

“I couldn’t find you!” You pull away, hoping your makeup hasn’t rubbed off onto his outfit. “Where were you hiding?”

“Nowhere.” He sneaks a kiss in between your flailing and you yelp again. “You just weren’t looking hard enough.”

You scowl, but both of you know there’s no real annoyance behind it. “You are incredibly annoying,” you inform him, only to be met with another chuckle. 

It’s been a year since the last season, and six months since you married. If you had had it your way, you would have married as soon as he proposed—called the banns in a week, married in a matter of days after that. With your father dead, however, your entire family was sent into mourning. Never mind that you had never cared for the man. 

You hated those six months. It wasn’t the seclusion from society, which you honestly didn’t mind—but just…mourning your father. A man who was barely present in your life. A man whose face you wouldn’t have remembered if not for the portrait still stuck up in the drawing room, a man who lied to you for years until he died so far away from home. You almost considered eloping to Gretna Green to escape the months of forced darkness—you’re fairly certain Beomgyu would have agreed—but ultimately decided against it. You had participated in enough scandal during the season to last you a lifetime. You didn’t need any more of it.

It helped when the three month mark came around and you could change out of the void black gowns and into the lighter colors of half-mourning. Not so much because of the clothes, but because you could slowly begin to accept social engagements again. It isn’t that you particularly wanted to see anyone—the season was over by then and you were incredibly glad for that—but Beomgyu could visit, then. It wasn’t as often as you or he would have liked since his family had moved to the country while you stayed in town, but it helped the time pass more quickly, especially when your little half-siblings freed themselves from the clutches of the staff and managed to tumble into the drawing room to join you two. You’re almost certain Delia has a little child-crush on Beomgyu, and Henry looks at him like a role model.

It's adorable. 

Still, sometimes those three months seemed interminable. You barely spoke to your stepmother but after so many years of living under her iron fist, you could never feel at ease in the same house as her. When the wedding came around, you didn’t invite her and she didn’t ask to come. It was a lovely day to celebrate your escape from a life you never wished to live. 

And here you are, now. Bickering with your husband whom you love in a home you can call your own, free from the back-breaking secret of your previous life and able to live, really live, in a way you haven’t been able to in years. You can even go about in society with your head held high, just like you will tonight. 

That is, if Beomgyu decides to stop stalling anytime soon. 

He leans in for another kiss but you jerk away before his lips can land on yours. “We’re going to be late, Beomgyu,” you repeat, forcibly pushing his face away. 

He looks at you, face mushed still mushed against your hand. You fight the urge to laugh but a smile makes its way onto your lips anyway. “Be honest with me, Y/N,” he says, pulling away with that little twinkle in his eye. “Do you really want to go tonight?”

You open your mouth, ready to respond affirmatively. But then Beomgyu catches you with those very sweet, very alluring eyes, and you pinch your lips together. He’s already won, you both know, but you have to fight him a little bit. Just a little bit. 

“You’re telling me we should skip our first public event since coming back from our very extended honeymoon?” You raise an eyebrow. 

“Why not?” he asks, sneaking a quick kiss onto your neck. You yelp, squirming away, but he maintains his hold on your waist all the while. “We’d have more fun at home anyway.”

You do your very best to ignore the way he’s smiling against your skin. “We already said that we would go.”

“Something came up. A terrible emergency that required us to return to the country for another month.” Beomgyu decides that whatever he’s doing right now is no longer enough and begins to lay kisses down your neck, trailing them towards your shoulder even though he knows you are incredibly ticklish over there. “You can’t tell me you’re so eager to return to society.”

You sigh. Beomgyu made good on all of his promises—he bought the house for your brother, he set aside money for your sister’s dowry, and he doubled the wages of all your staff in service. Several of them have followed you to your new home, too. And after your wedding, he whisked you away from London and the upcoming season to show you everything he knew in the continent. It was wonderful to leave England and even more wonderful to see the world, but by the end, you had come to the conclusion that it wasn’t just leaving London that gave you this joy. It was the fact that you had someone you loved by your side. 

It was the fact that you had Beomgyu.

It sounds terribly cliché, and you had said about as much to Beomgyu when you admitted it the night you returned to London, confessions whispered under the starlit sky. He had asked you if you really felt all right returning to society after the scandals and gossip of the last season and after a moment, you nodded. It would be difficult, but you didn’t want to hide forever. And with someone really and truly on your side, you could believe things would turn out fine. 

You thought he’d laugh at you, and he did—a little bit. But that laugh was accompanied by a surprising shyness and warmth in his touch as he pulled you closer under the bedsheets, your head coming to rest against his chest, just under his chin. “That is somewhat cliché,” he had said, words ghosting softly past your skin. “But I am very glad you feel that way.”

Now here you are, ready to attend your first public event of the season, and he’s trying to convince you to stay home. 

“I’m not not eager,” you protest. 

“But you aren’t exactly saying you’re eager either,” he retorts easily.

You sigh. “We promised we would go,” you say emphatically, but even you can tell that you’re losing ground for your argument here. 

Beomgyu hums into your shoulder, his arms sliding down to wrap around your waist from behind. “I’m sure Lady Park will understand,” he murmurs. 

That draws you up short. You’d nearly forgotten who was hosting tonight. “We are not skipping out on Lady Park’s ball,” you say, twisting around to look at him fully. “She is probably one of my only supporters in society right now!”

He makes an affronted noise. “What, is my family just chopped liver?”

“They are family,” you retort. “It isn’t the same. If they didn’t support me, we would be in far greater trouble by now.”

Beomgyu falls silent, which means he’s conceding defeat—at least on this front. “Fine, we’ll go,” he eventually groans. “But no one said we have to stay the entire night.” He whirls you around so that you’re facing him directly, and his grin becomes something distinctly inviting. Sensual. Your heart begins to beat uncomfortably quickly. “In fact, no one said we had to arrive on time, either.”

Your mouth suddenly feels very dry. You fight hard to keep your eyes meeting his, and not floating downwards to fixate on his lips. “Beomgyu…”

He grins. He knows he’s winning. “Twenty minutes,” he proposes.

“…Five minutes.”

“Fifteen.”

“Ten.”

“Twelve and a half.” You laugh, and Beomgyu takes your distraction as an opportunity to press his lips to yours again. “Twelve and a half,” he repeats when he pulls away, eyes sparkling. “And by the way, did I tell you how beautiful you look this evening?”

You laugh again, despite yourself. “You are absolutely incorrigible,” you inform him. 

“And yet you still love me,” he points out, infuriatingly correct as usual. “Twelve and a half minutes.”

“…Fine.”

He has his lips against yours in less than a second, an arm around your waist pulling you protectively close as your own hands wrap instinctively around his neck. “You are so beautiful,” he whispers against your lips. “I promise, every minute will be worth it.”

Sometimes it just suddenly hits you how lucky you are—how less than two years ago, you believed you would never find a husband, that you would never find love, that you would be forced to run away to avoid a life slated for a miserable end in your old household. Just a year past you believed this man to be your mortal enemy. When you think about it too much, you start to panic. Now that you have everything, a life that months ago you could only have dreamed of, it all feels like it could be taken away so easily. 

So as Beomgyu’s lips capture yours again, pressing you against the staircase as his hand rises to caress your cheek, you decide not to think about it. You push your doubt and panic away and focus on here, on now—on the warmth of his hands and his lips, on the love he manages to convey with every miniscule touch. This life is yours, this life filled with so much devotion and warmth, yours to build, yours to love. And if you know yourself, you will never willingly let it go.

When you break away for air, you don’t let Beomgyu pull away too far. You tangle your fingers through his dark hair, grinning all the while. If he notices a few tears of joy threatening to spill down your cheek, he says nothing, just looks at you with his doting smile.

“That was never in doubt,” you reply, staring into loving eyes. “Because every moment with you has always been worth it.”

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this, and have a lovely day :)

[aayakashii]

❤️17 fluffy towa please!!

i LOVEE your fics so muchh keep up the good work!! :D

17❤️ An upside-down "Spider-Man" kiss

21❤️ wildcard

This is very short but I hope you guys like it! It's not proof read, so forgive any grammar mistakes ;w;

You braced yourself as you approached the pathway that led straight to your dorm, holding the straps of your backpack tightly. You breathed deeply and steeled your resolve, gathering all the courage you had in you.

That night, you were going to put an end to that. That night, you wouldn’t get spooked. That night, in fact, you planned to act on your revenge plan once and for all.

You would NOT let Towa jump at you from the tree branches and startle you out of your skin like he had been doing for the past week.

It started innocent, it truly did. The first time he just wanted to show you the tree he loved so much – the one with dimming colored lights.

But apparently, your reaction was so interesting, that Towa simply couldn't have enough of it and what was supposed to be one silly little prank, soon became almost a daily routine.

“Boo!” Towa dropped from the tree, legs firmly holding him on the branch as his upper body was upside down and dangling in front of you.

“WAAH!” you jumped in place, almost colliding with his face.

“Hehehe! Dandelion, your reactions are so cute. I love them!” he said, blushing furiously as all the blood from his body went straight to his head while he dangled in front of you like a Christmas tree ornament.

You tried very hard to look him in his eyes instead of the exposed skin of his tummy. He had a mole right next to his belly button and it took all your self-control not to touch it nor pinch that apparently soft skin.

You put a hand over your racing heart and sighed, shutting your eyes tightly.

“Towa! This is the fourth time in, like, seven days! You're gonna give me a heart attack!”

He quickly sat upright on the branch again and leapt down, walking leisurely towards you as if he didn't just show insane core strength and aerobic prowess.

“I can't help it, you're so cute. I like seeing you surprised.”

You pursed your lips in a thin line. There it was. His flirting. You still weren't used to it after all that time.

“Well it's not that fun for me, you know… I get scared.”

Towa pouted, giving you his killer puppy eyes.

“Awww… but I like it.” He shrugged, completely ignoring your complaints, and grabbed your hand. “Now let's go see the tree!”

It was basically a new routine you'd have to be prepared for at that point: Towa would spook you, grab your hand and pull you towards the tree. Then you two would hug it and lay down to watch the stars until he'd begin to fluster you whenever he hovered a little bit too close for comfort from your lips. And your poor heart would beat faster and faster once again.

You just had to give your frazzled nerves a break.

So, you had planned to knock him off his feet and surprise him just as much.

The problem was, you didn't know when he would show up.

Two days had passed since your last spook and you've been bracing yourself ever since. The anticipation was causing you so much anxiety that you feared this would be his biggest fright yet, since you had been on edge all along.

You walked slowly, giving yourself a pep talk in your mind about how he'd be just as surprised (and probably delighted) with your idea as you were spooked every single time he dropped from one of those trees. You also hoped that would give him time to arrive and act on his little prank.

As you kept on walking, you heard leaves shuffling on the tree a few steps in front of you. It was either him or some of the many cats that lived on campus. You crossed your fingers and moved forward, hoping it was him, so you'd be done with your anxiety.

And sure enough, after you took a few steps, a familiar mop of lavender hair dropped down in front of you.

“Boooo!!!”

“GAAAH!!” you yelled, your voice going up pitches you've never reached before.

“Hahaha!! Dandelion! You yelled so loud today! That was so cute!” Towa reached out his arms towards you and placed them on your shoulders as he giggled uncontrollably, closing his eyes and scrunching his nose, finding your distress absolutely hilarious.

You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm your heart down as much as you could, as you stared straight into his eyes.

At your silence, Towa stopped giggling and opened his eyes. He tilted his head once he saw how serious you looked while you quietly observed him.

“Hm? What's wrong, Dandelion? Did you get too scared?”

You exhaled slowly through your mouth and stepped closer, awkwardly placing your hands on his cheeks. He just tilted his head again, to the other side that time, clearly curious about your weird actions.

“What are you doing, Dandelion? Are you still sc–”

You interrupted his question by hastily crashing your lips on his – his upside-down position making for the weirdest kiss you have ever given in your life. You didn't know what to do nor where to move, so you just held his face tenderly and placed your lips against his as comfortably as you could.

Once you broke the kiss, you breathed deeply once again, heart still racing but mildly satisfied to see his mouth agape and eyes wide open.

“N-now I've surprised you too.” you mumbled, furrowing your eyebrows and pouting.

Towa blinked at your words and, in half a second, he had gotten down the tree and stood straight in front of you.

His cheeks were still flushed while a small smile began tugging at the corner of his lips. His hands rested comfortably on your neck and he leaned forward, brushing the tip of his nose against yours.

“Can you do that again, Dandelion?” he whispered, voice full of glee.

You gulped before nodding and placing a small peck on his red lips.

Towa licked his lips, eyes closed as if he was savoring the taste of your mouth on his, and you felt a shiver run down your spine while you observed his actions.

He opened his eyes, iris barely visible around his dilated pupils.

“Again.” he whispered, and you complied, lips resting a little longer on his.

“Again.” and you ran your hands through his hair, bringing him closer.

“Again.” he said, diving back into a kiss before you could even register he had whispered that word once more.

“Again. Again… Again, again, again” he kept on whispering, placing a kiss on your lips for every word he repeated.

You turned into a flustered mess in his hands and your heart drummed loudly while he held you tightly and flush against his body, suffocating you with his kisses.

But, this time, you definitely weren't complaining.

[flightlessangelwings]

Our Souls Intertwined

sith!Obi Wan Kenobi x fem!jedi!reader

Word count- 4,580

Prompt- a lightsaber tilting up someone's chin

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), enemies to lovers, fighting, mutual pining, flirting, tension, fingering, piv sex, pet names (darling, love), praise, jedi!reader, reader is competent as a fighter and is a badass, no physical descrption of reader other than body parts, lightsaber color also never described, no use of y/n, open ending so you can decide for yourself what happens next

Notes- Written for Sith Obi Wan event @sithobiwanevent and oh boy did I have so much fun with this one!! I hope y'all enjoy reading this one as much as I enjoyed writing it!! Please let me know what you think!!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post new things!

^ gif credit linked above (thank you wonderful person for making that gif!!)

~

It was an epic battle. The whir of lightsabers filled the air. Red clashed with various colors as Lord Obi Wan Kenobi, feared and powerful sith lord, fought his way through the waves of jedi that came at him. A dark smirk graced his face as he sliced through some padawans, easily defeating the young opponents in front of him. Around him, his army fired from their blasters. It was chaos, and he thrived on it. The energy around him whirled, and he harnessed the power of the force to his advantage.

It was then that Kenobi saw you.

He brushed a lock of hair that had fallen on his face to watch you battle the enemy droids that surrounded you. He saw the strain in your jaw as you parried the blaster fire that came your way before you ran and stabbed those that shot at you. Kenobi was actually impressed by the way you handled yourself, and he actually had to take a breath to calm the thoughts that flooded his mind.

Swinging his red saber in a dramatic circle, Kenobi rushed over to you, calling your name as he got within range.

You whipped around, your own lightsaber at the ready as you braced yourself from the impact of Kenobi’s weapon.

“Hello there,” Kenobi smirked.

“Kenobi,” you strained as you countered his attack and parried with one of your own.

“Lovely to see you again, darling,” he quipped.

You just grunted as you volleyed your weapon. Ignoring the way Kenobi’s yellow eyes bore into you as if they were looking into your soul, you focused on the red of his blade. The two of you fought each other one on one, your blades crossing each other as if you were in a dance. The rest of the battle seemed to fade away and all that existed was each other.

“You’ve improved, darling,” Kenobi observed as he lunged at you with more force, electricity cackling as his saber crushed against yours.

“Don’t call me that, Kenobi,” you growled back, fighting both his physical assault and the way your heart secretly fluttered in your chest whenever he called you any term of endearment. The smoothness of his voice always went right to your core, as much as you tried to push it away. 

It only took that one fraction of a second for Kenobi to gain the advantage. Just the slight loosening of your lightsaber was all it took for him to knock it out of your hand and use the force to push you onto the ground. You spat a curse under your breath as you tried to channel the force to pull your saber back into your hand, but Kenobi’s boot caught it before it slid close enough for you to grasp it.

“Shit,” you muttered as you scrambled to your knees.

Before you could rise completely, red filled your vision. The hum of Kenobi’s lightsaber rang in your ears as you suddenly found yourself paralyzed. Sweat lined your brow as he used the tip of his saber to gently force your vision up to meet his gaze. He was careful, though, careful not to actually touch the blade to your skin and hurt you. Instead, Kenobi used the force to angle your head up.

In one hand, Kenobi held his lightsaber and the other he held up with two fingers as he controlled the force around the two of you. His eyes matched the red of his blade as his gaze pierced into you.

Helpless, you swallowed hard, “If you’re going to kill me, Kenobi,” you tried to sound strong, though you were sure your voice was strained, “Just get it over with. Don’t toy with me like this.”

“Why would I kill you, darling?” he purred, clearly enjoying having you helpless on your knees before him.

The question caught you off guard.

“Why not join me?” he asked in a smooth tone, “I could help you hone your skills. You could fight at my side instead of against me.”

You inhaled sharply, “You asked me that before, Kenobi,” you steadied your breath as you focused your feelings and reigned in your emotions, “And my answer is still no.”

He smiled darkly, “Still as stubborn as ever I see,” he actually sounded impressed, “But I see there is no changing your mind yet, love.” Kenobi released you and retracted his lightsaber. 

With a gasp, you fell forward and your face smashed into the ground. Quickly, you scrambled to your hands and knees only to find Kenobi had put some distance between the two of you.

“Until next time, darling,” he gave you a quick wave of his fingers before he disappeared into a dust cloud.

You were left alone and astonished. Why hadn’t he killed you? Why did he leave you alive? Again? Swallowing hard, you ignored the way your heart pounded in your chest as you grabbed your lightsaber and ran back to help the other jedi.

*

It wasn’t long before you met Kenobi again on the battlefield. Lightsabers clashed as you fought him on the desolate planet. You weren’t even sure which planet you were on, only that it was barren and filled mostly with sand and boulders and caves. Lightsabers and blasters clashed in the dunes and rocks of the desolate planet. 

“You get better every time I see you, darling,” Kenobi smirked, “If you were to join me, I could make you even greater.”

“Keep dreaming, Kenobi,” you countered back. 

“Oh I do see you in my dreams, darling,” he grinned, enjoying how his words threw you off for a moment.

The two of you battled each other, moving away from the rest of the battlefield and the others without realizing it. You grunted as you tried to focus your energy into finally beating him, but the way his yellow eyes stared into your soul distracted you. And all it took was a moment, just one flash of an instant, for you to lose your edge.

One misstep and you tumbled down the rocky ridge that hosted your duel with the sith lord. But, before you hit the ground, you found yourself suspended in the air. Looking up, you saw Kenobi rush toward you, shouting your name. In a fit of frustration, you channeled the force and pushed that energy towards him, attempting to knock him off balance.

It did, and Kenobi fell back. However, the rush of force energy also hit a large pile of large rocks and boulders. The ground rumbled beneath your body and you knew this was greater trouble than the sith in front of you. In an instant, your goal changed from beating Kenobi to getting out of the rockslide alive. 

Looking behind him, he noticed the danger too and he bolted toward you and pulled you off the ground, “Run!” Kenobi yelled as he grabbed your hand.

The rockslide felt like it was caving in around you as you ran, your hand in his. Kenobi led you towards a cave, an opening that seemed to be your only way of escaping the cascading boulders around you both. As the dust clouded your vision and the crashing of the rocks around you made it hard to hear, you had no choice but to put your trust in him.

Kenobi got you both into the cave with just a fraction of a second to spare. Both of you crashed to the ground as the boulders piled up at the entrance, blocking you in. You let out a heavy exhale as the dust settled, and the only beams of light that lit up the small cave came from higher up.

The cave was shallow, and you could see the end of it. That meant there was no way out except for how you came in. And how you came in was currently blocked with dozens of large boulders. The beams of light came from small openings between the rocks, but they weren’t big enough to crawl through. Inside the cave, there were only the two of you, along with rocks scattered throughout the floor.

“Are you alright?” Kenobi asked with genuine concern in his voice.

“I’m fine,” you replied immediately as you tried to stand. However, when you tried to move your arm, you hissed in pain, “Shit…” you grabbed your shoulder and felt blood soak your hand.

“No you’re not,” Kenobi rushed to you, inspecting your wound and swallowing the fear that threatened to bubble over in his mind.

“I’ll be ok,” you tried to ignore his worry over you, “It’s not that bad.”

He pursed his lips as he looked at your shoulder then back to where the boulders piled high, trapping you in together, “It’s too high to climb,” he observed, “And it’ll take both of us to move all the boulders,” Kenobi turned back to you, “Which you can’t do with that injury,” he reached for your shoulder again, “Let me.” His heart fluttered in his chest as he saw the blood seep from your shoulder, and he hated the sinking feeling he had when he saw you hurt.

Before you could protest, Kenobi covered your injury with his hand and let out a long slow breath. Mouth opened in shock, you felt warmth on your injury and you felt the energy of the force flow from him into you. You watched him for a moment before you closed your eyes and surrendered yourself, feeling the force flow between your bodies as if it cradled and protected you both. Warmth embraced you as you felt rejuvenated from what Kenobi was doing.

With a gasp, Kenobi broke away from you as his eyes shot open. He backed away as he hunched forward, weak from the energy he expended. You let out a gasp of your own as you watched him crawl to a rock to steady himself before he lifted his body to sit.

“How were you able to do that?” you asked in shock as you cradled your now uninjured shoulder.

Kenobi just looked at you, “Well I wasn’t always a sith, darling,” he gave you a genuine soft smile.

The question came out before you could stop it, “What happened?”

His smile turned mischievous, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

You rolled your eyes.

Changing the subject with a heavy sigh, Kenobi said, “It looks like we’ll be here for a while. I need to recover my strength if we are to move those boulders,” he looked around, “Might as well get comfortable.”

Your body remained stiff as you stayed on high alert. Your saber was at your side, yet you made sure your hand was never far from it. The muscles in your jaw clenched harder as you watched Kenobi visibly relax on a rock, leaning back and resting his leg in front of him.

“I’m not going to attack you,” he said in a calm tone after feeling your heavy gaze on him for several long moments.

“Then what are you going to do?” you asked, guard still up but chipped away just the slightest. 

Kenobi smirked as he stood, “What would you like me to do, darling?” he purred as he took a step towards you.

You took a step back, keeping the distance between you. Yet, you couldn’t deny the way you felt the force move around you whenever he was near, and especially when it was now just the two of you trapped and alone. And you were sure he felt it too.

“I…” 

The two of you kept up this dance, Kenobi stepping forward and you stepping back until you hit a wall. His body was relaxed; he wasn’t hunting you. Instead, it was as if he was approaching you at a bar, friendly almost. Your heart pounded in your chest, yet it wasn’t from fear.

“I have something in mind,” his tone was low yet soft as he stepped into your space.

You swallowed hard as you pressed your back against the wall, feeling him against you. Kenobi placed a hand on one side of your head as his gaze bore into your soul.

“And I think you have the same thought as I do,” he continued as he leaned into you.

“How do you know?” you tried to sound tough, but you didn’t even fool yourself. You dropped your gaze to the ground, avoiding his eyes.

Kenobi let out an amused huff as he took two fingers and gently guided your face to look back up and meet his eyes. It was a similar feeling from last time when you met him on the battlefield and he used his saber to force you to look at him. Both times, you should have felt threatened, in danger. And yet, you didn’t. Not then, and certainly not now. No, it was a different feeling that pulsed through your veins.

“Because,” he said in almost a whisper, “You aren’t pushing me away.”

Your mouth dropped open as you realized that he was not trapping you at all. The only contact he made was his fingers on your chin, which you could have easily brushed off. Kenobi hovered close to you, yet he gave you a clear path out if you chose to take it. Yet, you didn’t. You chose to stay there, in his gaze.

“Why don’t you just take what you want from me?” you asked.

“Darling,” he sounded almost offended, “I would never do that to you. I would never hurt you,” he sighed, “I want you on your own volition.”

“Obi Wan…” you breathed his name… his first name you realized. 

His yellow eyes went wide as his jaw clenched, “No one has called me that in… A long time,” he sighed, “It sounds lovely in your voice.”

You let out a deep breath as you felt his breath on your lips.

“Tell me what you want, darling,” he murmured, “And say my name again.” It wasn’t a command, but a request. It was his way of giving you one last out should you choose.

Your eyes darted from his yellow ones down to his lips and you swallowed hard, “Kiss me… Obi Wan.”

The moment the words left your lips he crashed his into yours. Your moan was muffled from the kiss, but you instantly melted into it, grasping at his black robes as you parted your lips for him. Obi Wan took the invitation eagerly and slipped his tongue past your lips, tasting you, savoring you. He groaned into you as he finally touched you, one hand grabbing your hip while the other cradled your jaw. 

In your studies as a jedi, you trained to feel the force around you and how to harness it. You had an exceptional understanding of it, and learned to control it much faster than your classmates. As a knight, your power only grew. But, it wasn’t until you kissed the sith lord Obi Wan Kenobi that you fully understood the true feeling of the force wrapping itself around you and how it bound two souls together. You had never felt anything like this in your life before. And from the way he groaned into you, you were sure he felt the same way.

“You taste divine, lovely,” he purred against your lips before he kissed you again, his beard ticking your face as he devoured you.

“Obi Wan…” you whispered as you broke the kiss for a breath of air. You tilted your head to the side as he kissed his way along your jaw and down your neck, sending goosebumps across your skin as he hit more sensitive spots, “Touch me. Please,” you pleaded.

“It would be my pleasure, darling,” he groaned as his hands roamed across your chest.

His hands slipped under your jedi robes and cupped your breasts. He let out a satisfied growl when you mewled in pleasure under his touch, and he could help the way he kneaded and caressed your soft mounds. Kenobi felt a jolt within him when he pinched your nipples and made you cry out louder.

He hummed as his hands made their way down your body, his eyes never moving from your face the entire time. Kenobi didn’t want to miss a single expression as he worshiped you with his hands. He paused for a moment when his fingers reached the top of your pants, but when you didn’t protest or push him away, he dipped a hand underneath the fabric.

Both of you gasped as Obi Wan’s hand cupped your pussy. While your eyes fluttered shut and you arched your back against the wall, his stayed open, watching you with great interest. Your mouth dropped open as he carefully pushed two fingers into you.

“Fuck!” you cried out as you grasped at his shoulders for balance.

“Beautiful,” he murmured as he thrust his fingers in and out of you. Obi Wan couldn’t tear his eyes away from you even if he wanted to. Every little expression you made, every little sound of pleasure that escaped your lips, even how your pussy felt around him… you were everything to him.

“Obi Wan…” you whined as your mind swam in the bliss his fingers gave you. 

Oh how he loved it when you said his name. Obi Wan’s eyes burned with passion as he growled and thrust his fingers into you harder. His cock strained with need, but he ignored it in favor of pleasuring you. As he buried his fingers deep inside you, Obi Wan rutted against your body, covering you with himself as heat rose between you.

“Please… I’m close…” you moaned as you felt dizzy. You tightened your grip on him, knowing he would be there to hold you and keep you steady.

“Show me how beautiful you are when you cum, darling,” he groaned as he picked up his pace with his fingers.

It only took a few more deep thrusts for you to come undone. Your body trembled in his grip as you came hard with a loud scream of his name. Tears filled your eyes as you felt overwhelmed between the emotions that pulsed through your body as you rode out your orgasm on his fingers. And just as you felt breathless, he kissed you again, even more deeply this time.

You whimpered as Obi Wan slowly pulled his fingers out of you and your chest rose and fell with your heavy breaths. When he broke away, you finally looked into his eyes and saw the fire that burned behind them. “Fuck me, Obi Wan.”

He smiled at you as he grabbed you and spun you around. In a flash, you found yourself on your back, his cape underneath you as he quickly yanked and tugged at both your clothing. Depreciation took over both of you as you worked to quickly strip each other until you are both completely bare.

“Wow,” you breathed as you stared at him.

“Exquisite,” he moaned as he lunged forward and kissed you once more, his hips rutting against the fold of your pussy as he started to lose control of himself.

Obi Wan lost even more control as he pushed the tip of his cock into you. Both of you gasped and cried out as you felt him slowly enter you. You clawed at his back as more of his cock stretched you out inch by inch. And Obi Wan growled as your warmth engulfed him, driving him wild.

“Obi Wan…” you whined.

“I know, darling,” he muttered as he rocked back and thrust forward. 

A string of curses escaped both your lips as he rocked in and out of you, hitting that sweet spot inside you with precision every single time. You screamed as your vision blurred and you dug your nails more into his back. But it only spurred him on more, thrusting harder and faster into you as he became more and more desperate.

Screams and groans echoed in the cave and skin slapped against skin. Obi Wan would have wanted this to last longer, but you were too beautiful, too enticing, too perfect. Sweat lined his brow as locks of hair stuck to his forehead as he thrust into you with abandon. 

“Cum for me, darling,” he growled as he felt his own climax build, “Cum with me.”

“Fuck!” you cried out as your breasts swung back and forth with every thrust of his hips.

With a scream, your second orgasm hit you like a bantha and your legs trembled on either side of his body as he continued to pound into you. Obi Wan growled your name as your orgasm triggered his and he came deep into you, grunting and moaning as he spilled himself inside your body.

Obi Wan kept going as long as he could, rocking into your wet pussy hard enough to feel the splash of your release soak your bodies. But, as he rode out both your climaxes, neither of you had anything left to give and he pulled out of you after one final thrust. 

You gasped as you felt the sudden emptiness and your eyes shot open to watch him hover over you with an inferno in his gaze. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you stared back at him and suddenly you were keenly aware of how naked you still were. Heavy breaths echoed around you as you both lost yourselves in each other.

Sensing your shift, Obi Wan took a deep breath and composed himself. He leaned over and gathered your jedi robes and handed them to you, “Here,” he said before he turned his back to you to give you some privacy.

Neither of you were sure why he did that, after he just fucked you. but you welcomed it either way. Both of you were silent as you redressed. Your heart still beat wildly in your chest as you felt the ghost of his touch on your skin and you replayed what just happened in your head.

“Anger. Fear. Loss,” Obi Wan broke the silence after he slipped on his pants and robe, leaving it open to bare his chest to you still.

“What?” Your voice was just a whisper as you spun around to face him.

“How I turned to the dark side,” Obi Wan said in a soft voice, one that you guessed he hadn’t used in some time, “There was someone… very dear to me. Someone that I loved with everything I had. Someone…” he took in a shaky breath as he ran his hands through his hair, “I couldn’t save… No matter how hard I tried.”

You watched with wide eyes as he bared his soul to you with his confession. You guessed the way his story ended without him having to say it out loud. You both knew the path to the dark side, and how his loss led to his fall. You crossed the space to stand face to face with him as you placed a hand on his chest.

“I swore then that I would never care for anyone like that again,” Obi Wan turned away from you, breaking the contact he craved so deeply, “And I hadn’t since…” he turned back to meet your gaze, “Until now.”

A gasp escaped your lips, “Obi Wan…?”

He gave you a sad smile, one that you couldn’t decipher its meaning. Before you could say anything else, though, he turned to the wall of boulders, “I think we can move it now,” he said as he tightened his robe around him.

You followed his gaze with your own and nodded, “Ok.” The disappointment in your tone was clear. 

“Concentrate all your energy,” he told you, “You hold them steady, I will push them out of our way. When you see an opening, you run. Understand?”

You wanted to protest. You wanted to tell him to run with you, to stay at your side. But the seriousness in his expression told you it wasn’t worth the energy to argue. “Got it.”

Both of you raised your arms, channeling the force toward the boulders. You grunted as you kept the large rocks steady while Obi Wan worked on moving them out of the way. He started with the smaller ones at the top, but when he got to the middle, it all started to collapse.

“Steady!” he shouted.

You gritted your teeth as you strained to keep the bigger ones steady. Dust started to fill the air as everything moved. When Obi Wan got to the center, he called your name, “Run! Now! Go!”

Doing as you were told, you bolted forward into the dust. You tried to keep the rocks steady as you ran, but the more you exerted yourself, the harder it got. The ground rumbled as the boulders tumbled out of the way, creating dust clouds so thick that you couldn’t see through.

Once you were out and clear from the rocks, you turned around and screamed, “Obi Wan!” You streamed to look for him through the dust, but for several moments, you couldn't. You reached through the force, pushing the rocks out of the way to search for him.

Just when you were about to lose hope, you saw his silhouette in the dust, “Obi Wan,” you sighed in relief as you ran to him. Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around him, embracing him hard, “You’re ok.”

He smiled at you as he held you close, just as relieved as you were, “I’m alright, darning.”

You looked into his eyes, and for a moment you saw no sign of the sith yellow that usually illuminated them. In front of you now wasn’t a sith lord or empire general, but just a man. As you held each other, you felt the sense that there was much left unspoken, but the sound of an engine in the distance forced those thoughts to remain unsaid.

“It’s a rebel transport,” he said, “They must have seen the dust cloud from our escape. They’ll pick you up, and you’ll be safe.”

“But what about you?” you turned back to face him.

Obi Wan smiled at you as he cupped the side of your face, “I’ll be alright, darling, don’t you worry.” He paused for a moment, as if he wanted to kiss you again, but he decided not to, “Now go,” he nudged you forward as he retreated back.

You turned toward the incoming ship, waving your hands so that they spotted you. As it hovered closer, blowing your robes up into the wind, you spoke to him with your back still turned, “Obi Wan, come with…” you turned around to find him gone, “Me.” Your shoulders dropped in disappointment as the ship landed and the clones called your name.

“You’re alright! We were looking for you,” they said as they ushered you onto the ship.

From the shadows in the distance, Obi Wan Kenobi watched as you got on board and were flown away to safety. He sensed the thought in your mind, and he fled before you could ask it. He knew he would not have the strength to deny your request had he heard you speak it. Blowing a kiss into the air, he whispered, “Until we meet again, my love,” before he turned and went the opposite direction. 

Be safe, he released his thought across the planes to you. 

[demeterdefence]

kept meaning to make a post and kept FORGETTING to because i'm dumb but i cannot stop thinking of all the loose ends / introduced plots that got dropped without any warning and one that has been sticking out is persephone's "new" abilities after she "lost" her powers

we get a lackluster hint in episode 267, when apollo uses some random magic deus ex machina to "restore" persephone's powers. he starts bleeding from the nose and ears.

also apologies for the terrible quality, i forgot that lo went under daily pass and had to scour my own screenshots lmamdgjsf

it's not explained at the time whatsoever and in fact, the vagueness of the narrative kind of half-heartedly implies that it's an effect of ouranos' magic - it's also completely handwaved away, since no one bothers to ask why apollo is suddenly bleeding from the orifices and able to use persephone's powers.

it's not until persephone and hera decide to visit kronos in tartarus that persephone explains she somehow knew all along what this strange power was! she can apparently make a god rot from the inside!!!

it's not explained at ALL how she figured that out or like ... why she has that specific power. it is mentioned during the solstice where she creates winter that she can only make "decay," but that's a pretty obvious and visual thing - she's quite literally blistered the mortal realm in snow and ice, with all the plants dying on their physical surface.

important context, but other than persephone's attack on minthe, she is never seen using her powers on another person. her abilities are always on herself, or using plants / growth in some way. the fertility goddess nonsense does mean that hades and kronos are able to use her powers to strengthen themselves, but beyond that plot point being ridiculous, it's also something they don't just figure out overnight. kronos being able to escape control the underworld, and hades going godzilla mode during the trial, are clues used to eventually figure out what persephone's fertility goddess powers can do.

in regards to her new winter powers, persephone either figured it out somehow before the scene with apollo, or she figured it out after. with no explanation how.

moving from the how, we then get the last mention to this power, when persephone attempts to stop kronos

spoiler: it does not work. the power is never referenced again.

in terms of lore olympus' many crimes, it's a small thing, but it stands out to me as such a flailing attempt to write some wiggle room into the finale. rachel was struggling to get to the end, that much was obvious, and she was padding out the episodes as desperately as she could so that she could pull on any random thread and find a way to keep the plot moving. in better hands, this might have been a legitimately interesting power to explore for persephone! the goddess of spring, capable of rot, capable of such bone-deep destruction, and how she reconciles that with growth. it could have been a powerful juxtaposition, but it got abandoned as soon as rachel figured out how to give persephone her powers back. presumably, persephone still has this ability, but it is literally never brought up again. we have no idea if there was lasting damage to apollo, if it did anything in particular to kronos, what it can do to a god (the assumption is nothing, since both apollo and kronos seem just fine in their final scenes.)

it's just. amazing to go back and look through all the various strings rachel was knotting together, seeing stuff that might have been genuinely fascinating to explore in some other writer's hands! tiny little things like this, added up together to just be crapshoot after crapshoot. it's no surprise at all that rachel finished the last episode barely an hour before it went live. what a mess.

[babey-fruit-bat]

Practical Life Skills for Everyone

Wolverine X Reader FLUFF

Content: The new Home Ec teacher encounters the Shop Class teacher at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters

Note: photos come from Pinterest and collage made by me hehe

Tw: SAFE FOR POC/FEM READERS- Author can’t write dialogue, Logan is called short ONCE (written with comic accurate Wolverine in mind-but can be movie Logan too) reader is given pet names/refered to as she/Ms.

I haven’t written a serious fic since high school and I want to get back out here again hooray!

—————————————————————————

A new semester, apple on the desk, pots and pans freshly washed, sewing machines at the ready. Nothing this semester could stop you- starting fresh at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters brought to fruition everything you’d hoped for. Family, a career, children, and most importantly- stability.

A word normally foreign for mutants of all kinds, yourself included. Settling down as a teacher helped to blend your identity. Charles had located you on purpose- something you’d come to terms with over the last few months spent bonding with the staff and fellow X-Men. You’d been offered a position as a teacher and had accompanied several missions, all successful due to your mutation. It wasn’t easy- and took many years to develop and control your abilities the way you could. You’d managed on your own just fine before this but life was lonely at best, suffocating at worst. A life spent using your mutation to survive- Now you could live.

You’d initially been brought on to train a young mutant named Rouge- with a similar ability, training her was rewarding. It was like a reflection of your younger self staring back st you. About a century ago you had no community, family, friends.

That reality seemed so far away compared to the life you lived now. You mused this thought to yourself unlocking the door to your classroom. You set the books on top of your perfectly organized desk- perfect timing as the students began filling in for the day.

You pulled up their bell work to complete on the projector watching one by one as they sorted themselves into groups ready. A slight drone of music started down the hall and the bell announced the start of another day.

Beginning with collecting the bell work, you started the students off with a simple recipe to complete before the end of class. Classic chocolate chip cookies- a family favorite and good way to observe the student’s skill levels.

“More salt Colby, the acidity is necessary”

“Yes Ms. Y/N”

“Scrape the flour off the top of the measuring cup for an even amount, Emma”

“Thanks, professor Y/N!”

It wasn’t long before each student had a decent batch of cookies ready to grade and devour- the edible ones at least..

But before any grading could be done- or eating the music level from the hall rose to an absurd level

“Does anyone know who has their music so loud this morning?” You stated opening the door to the hallway “I hardly think this time of morning is-“

“It’s the shop class down the hall” one of the students stated, also mildly annoyed

“Hmmm, shop class? I didn’t know we offered shop this semester.. Do you think the professor would-“

A chorus of “No way!” “Do not!” and “He’ll kill you!” erupted from the students

“Who? I hardly think anyone would be so ill-tempered about asking to cut the music down so early”

“It’s professor Logan, he’s back this semester”

“Then I guess we’ll have to give him a ring- this volume is a little much, surely he wouldn’t mind?”

The students held their breath as you dialed the shop’s classroom on the school phone

It was a wonder anyone picked up the phone in the shop. Many students gathered around the bike Logan was introducing as the senior class project. A chance to not only test their skills but add personal flare- a teenagers wet dream truly.

Some eager students had been sent to gather the tool on the bench when one notice the phone ringing. They answered and briefly spoke to the teacher on the other end before hanging up the phone. One student simply turned the music down- enough for Logan to notice. He didn’t like the settings messed with unless he did so himself, especially by his students.

“Who touched the radio?” He demanded

The students silently stood there as the music paused completely. One student bravely spoke up

“It was the phone-“

“The phone cut the music down?” He interrupted

“No, a teacher called and asked us to do it”

“Who? I sweat if you answered Scott and listened! What’s the first rule in shop!?” He sighed, already tired from the day and needing a drink.

He wasn’t cut out for this ‘teacher’ shit, Logan thought to himself. He’d tried to argue with Charles claiming he had better things to do and had been promptly reminded of how much time he spends in the garage should be put to good use.

He signed as he sensed his pupils unease and cut the music back on and instructed them to get started. He stalked to the phone clicking a few buttons to figure out what classroom called to complain ready to give Scott a piece of his mind. He ran out to steam seeing it was your classroom that had called. The new teacher who’d started their first semester just down the hall. He’d meant to stop by and welcome you but meeting people without confrontation had never been his strongest quality. What better time than now. He left the students to their assignment and carried himself down the hall ready to introduce himself.

A knock on the door interrupted the classroom buzz and a hush fell over the students. You padded over to the door and peeked out the small window. A short man, clad in a black t shirt and jeans stared back at you with an unreadable expression.

“Good morning! What can I do for you?” You trailed off not recognizing him.

“You called the shop a minute ago” he stated twirling the toothpick in his mouth

“Yes, I’m sorry to bother- You must be professor Logan”

“Mm hm” he answered shortly, stepping out further in the hall while you closed the door behind you.

“I’m sorry if I upset you, it was just a little loud for my students and I this morning-“

He held a hand up “Not a problem, doll. I can’t upset my favorite teacher, right?”

“Favorite teacher? We just met” you said with a light laugh

“I’ve been around a long time- I know a good girl when I see one”

“I hardly think that’s appropriate to say here”

“No? Maybe I can say it another way or another time?” His lips curling up in a smug smile “How about you come down to the shop after classes- Grab a drink later?”

“Oh! Uh sure? I guess so?” From the way the students reacted you’d assumed this teacher was awful, even horrible. Be here is his- polite as ever and asking to grab a drink?

“I like that answer” he laughed leaning closer “Meet me later at garage three- I’ll take you to Abe’s”

Abe’s was one of the nicer bars in the city, a place known for anniversaries, couples flocking there left and right for an evening out. You’d never stopped by until tonight- now you had plans for once with a complete stranger- a handsome one at that.

“I’ll see you later then, garage three”

“Looking forward to it, sweetheart” he said turning to head back to his class

You entered your room once again as the class held their breath. No yelling, no cussing, no words of any kind were heard and the students had feared your first day would be your last- they didn’t know that this was just the beginning

[usedpidemo]

a tale of two (concert) halves... (storytime!)

I've made it clear over the past few updates that my real life struggles have really backed us into a corner. If the first half of 2024 was on hard difficulty, the second half has so far been on brutal. Personal relationships are falling apart, our physical health has been going through hell, and our finances are struggling to keep up with ever increasing debts. As much as I am a man of faith, I do struggle with maintaining such devout trust on the daily, because I am afraid of the worst.

But even during these tough times, it's comforting to know I won't be left for dead, and I can still find enjoyment in them.

Not gonna lie, I thought I would never attend a concert this year. IVE was coming back after a little over a year, but I didn't have money for it (and is something I still struggle to move on from). ITZY was coming back less than eight months when I saw them, but no Lia, and the ticket selling was insanely early (fuck you Live Nation). The only other girl group I think came here was fromis_9, which I still would love to see, but that was for a festival, so the setlist was extremely limited—and it was during finals week, so that was not gonna happen. There's just been an overall downturn of concerts compared to last year, so whether or not this is a good thing, you decide. (Seriously, no aespa, no (G)I-DLE, no NMIXX, etc.)

However—here comes Red Velvet, one of the holy trinity of 3rd gen girl groups (TwicePinkVelvet), celebrating their 10th anniversary with an Asia tour. By some miracle, I got a stimulus check two months ahead of my birthday, and yet it was still a hard decision, because I wasn't sure if other girl groups would also tour near the end of the year. Looking at what's to come for the last quarter of the year, I highly doubt it and 2025 is sure to be stacked, so it all paid off in retrospect.

It was a completely different experience than the first two outings. For one, it was fucking standing floor over seated, so I knew my body would be put through the torture rack. Second was the unpredictability of where I would end up—thankfully it wasn't first come first serve where I would be forced to camp early (which by the way, concert campers are disgusting and should be arrested). Still, my positioning would depend on my queuing number (which in itself was dependent on when you would buy your ticket, and obviously unless you got into the site as soon as it loaded up, the earlier), and while it wasn't completely shit—it still meant that a majority would get their preferred spot over mines.

Cut to the actual concert day and it was a tale of two halves. The first was the pre-concert, which wasn't all bad at the start—but then there was the queuing before entering the venue. I could have easily waited and taken my sweet time exploring and doing other shit, but I was pressured to queue early out of fear of not getting a good spot. I forgot that since it was queuing numbers, they would rearrange the line anyway, so I never really had a chance lmao. I really shot myself in the foot quite literally by adding an extra two hours standing around.

Everyone in VIP was given a bonus member card, and I didn't end up getting my bias. I tried bartering with other fans, but I absolutely failed. To add insult to injury, everyone else were able to trade and/or get theirs, so that fucking sucks.

It was also the first time I was forced to wear some kind of noise control for my ears. Didn't really have earplugs but Airpods were certainly a nice alternative. Fucking hell—this was the loudest of the three crowds I've ever been a part of, and it doesn't help that the audience would screech and shout out of tune. It was so goddamn annoying. Then you get to the ments/speeches, and they would just fucking bark and make monkey noises while the members were talking, and after performances. I counted a total of 12-14 times this happened throughout, and it never got any better. If the members weren't encouraging the audience, I'd probably have socked someone in the nose out of annoyance at some point.

As for the overall concert itself, I had a blast! I'm not that familiar with Red Velvet's colorful discography, but they performed most of their hits and title tracks (ripperoni Russian Roulette and Chill Kill). Not only that, but the set ran for almost 3 hours (2 hours 50 minutes as they did start like 10 minutes past schedule), and the energy persisted all throughout. Wendy was constantly flaunting her vocals, but Joy. Joy was absolutely fucking insane. Also, the fucking Zimzalabim encore is something everyone needs to experience once in their lifetime.

I wish I could say the pain was all worth it—but of course, life being life, it decides to fuck with me one more fucking time with the middle finger. After the show ended, we were all told to stay in our spots for the send-off event as everyone else were escorted out and the raffle winners from lower seating tiers were pulled in. We waited for 40 minutes, and then the members come out. It should be a cool moment! Except they were led by staff straight to the extended stage for a bit and then they'd get off, completely neglecting the sides, where me and a few others were. They would eventually go around the venue, but by the time we realized what has happening, it was too late—we never got to see them up close properly.

I'll be honest, while I don't feel as bothered thinking about it a few days on, when it happened, it almost ruined the entire experience for me. The organizers/staff had misdirected us and didn't organize properly, so some of us got a lesser experience than those who won the raffle, which is worse for us since we paid more. The send-off treatment here was way—way worse than in Bangkok and Jakarta, and it fucking pisses me off. We can't have shit in this country. I don't blame the girls for it; they were just following instructions and they had a flight to catch shortly after (not to mention they were tired as fuck). Still, the fact I paid so much for that underwhelming send-off experience just reinforces my opinion that hi-touches are simply better. At least everyone gets a fair shot, even if it was very brief. You can't win them all, I guess. I also do believe that it was bound to happen, the first two experiences were near-perfect and flawless in execution, so something had to give to bring me back down to earth.

Nevertheless, even if for just a few hours, it's nice to find some comfort and enjoyment despite the world around me crumbling down. To think that they're 10 years on and still as active as their younger contemporaries in K-pop is astounding. I can see why they're among the most beloved girl groups ever; there's only a handful with equal the talent and discography to match. This was also my first outing with a new camera, and when it was hitting, the shots were fucking hitting.

I really wish Bamboleo was part of the set tho.