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k-germsworld · 3 months ago

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Interview

Yuju x M! Reader

2.4k words

"WHAT !!! Rejected again." Yuju looked at the rejection letter in her hand and sighed. She sent her resume to many companies but was rejected without exception. "Damn it, is it that hard to find a job now?" She was fired from her last company two months ago.

"Ring.....ring...." Her phone rings. She answers the phone and realises that it is her mom.

Mom: "Yuna ya, I heard from others that you were fired?"

Yuju: "No, never. Mom, I'm very busy right now. I'll call you later."

Yuju quickly hung up the phone. She didn't want her family to know that she was fired from her previous company, so she had to hang up the phone quickly. She also received many letters from banks telling her how much money she owed and that she had to repay it within certain time frames or face legal action. All these factors made her feel very stressed. She checked the time and realized it was lunchtime. Even with all the stress, she still had to fill her stomach to continue looking for the next job. So she headed to the nearby cafe. On the way, she passed by a notice board and saw a job hiring on it. That job hiring post is from a top company. It says that they are hiring a female secretary, and you only need to know a little paperwork, as long as you are willing to learn and do it. Salaries are up to 6 million won per month.

Yuju was attracted by the job posting and quickly emailed her resume to this company. While she was having lunch, she received a reply from the company and they already arranged an interview for tomorrow. She felt so happy that she almost cheered loudly. When she got home, she began to learn about the company so that she could be fully prepared for the interview tomorrow.

The next day, she was well-prepared and headed to that company. When she arrived, she found that so many people were waiting for their interviews. Yuju looked like the last one to arrive, so she had to wait until everyone else was done. "Next, please." After waiting for almost an hour, it was finally her turn. After she tidied herself up, she confidently walked into the interview room. She saw three people sitting and waiting for her. The person who interviewed Yuju was not anyone else, but the boss of this company.

"Good morning, my name is Choi Yuna. You can call me Yuju. I'm here to apply for the boss's secretary position." Yuju makes a simple greeting to them.

"Have your seat please." The boss said.

The three of them holding the resume emailed by Yuju. "Choi Yuna, 26 years old. The reason why you were fired from your last company was because you leaked company information, causing your company to miss out on a large investment. For this reason alone, our company should not hire you." The interviewer sitting next to the boss said.

Yuju was shocked to hear this, they knew that the person who leaked the company information was her. She knew that this company was her last chance because other companies were afraid to hire her because of her previous company, so this top company was her last chance. "I can swear I won't make the same mistake again."

"Why should we trust a guy who has no credibility?" The interviewer told her in a more stern tone.

"I can do anything, as long as you give me this chance." Yuju please them.

"I'm sorry, miss. We can't give you this job, please leave." The interviewer motioned Yuju to leave.

"Ahem...." The boss's cough made them stop arguing. "Are you willing to do anything as long as you can do this job?" Yuju nodded her head. After seeing her answer, the boss looked at the other two interviewers and asked them to leave the room. After making sure the two interviewers had left, the boss stood up from his chair. Yuju is very curious about what kind of test the boss will give her. The boss stood in front of the table and took a look at her resume. "Yuju ssi, let me confirm with you once again that you can do anything just to get this job?" She nodded firmly and continuously. "Yeah, that's right. I'd do anything to get this job." The boss smirked. “Stand up!” She stood up according to the boss' instructions. He walked over to where Yuju was and looked her over. "Such a beautiful and sexy woman." The boss said in his mind. He lifted her face with his fingers. She shyly avoided the boss's eyes. "Yes, boss? So what can I do now?" However, the boss still didn't give her an answer yet. He walked up behind her and sniffed her hair vigorously. "Ah...ah. It smells so good." The boss spoke out what was on his mind, leaving Yuju speechless. "What is he doing?" She said in her mind. She was curious about what the boss was observing her for.

The boss hugged Yuju from behind, scaring her. She tried to break free from him but the boss was too strong. “Hey, let me go.” His hands moved from her waist to her tits. His hands began to grope her tits. “This is what you need to do if you need this job. I am hiring a secretary just to please me and help me release my stress." Yuju finally understood why the wages were so high. “No, I wouldn't do this shit if I had to sacrifice my body." After hearing this, the boss let go of his hands. She was also confused at once. "Okay, you can leave now. Wait for our call." The boss pretended that he had not done anything to Yuju. She had no choice but to leave according to the instructions. Just as she took a step to leave, the boss suddenly said something to her. “I know you need this job, but no one in this industry will hire you if you dare to step out from this office. And everyone knows how you were fired from your last company.” This made her very angry, but she did not dare to contradict the boss because he was telling the truth. He went on to say, "And if you listen to me, I guarantee you'll get this salary easily. And you don't need to do much." He knew that although these words were frivolous, they were a great temptation to Yuju. She gradually felt that what her boss said made sense. She really needed a job and money to pay off her debts, and she didn't need to worry about her mother. "So as long as I listen to you, I can get a fixed salary of 6 million won every month?" She couldn't resist this temptation, so she thought about it for a while before leaving the office and said to her boss. The boss knew he had succeeded. "Yes, it's not a big workload. As long as you are willing to please me and help me relieve stress when I need it, you can easily get this salary." He went towards Yuju’s direction and removed her clothes. She didn't resist and let the boss do whatever he wanted. He touched her tits again. Yuju's tits were just the right size for the boss. He didn't like big tits so he did everything he could to keep her.

"Before you become my official secretary, I still need to test you." He glares at his pants, and seems like he wants to ask Yuju to help him to take off his pants. She understood what he meant, so she knelt on the ground and took off his pants. She didn't pull off his panty at once but she can see a bulge on his panty. Even though she hadn't seen the real thing yet, she was already surprised by the size of the bulge. "Continue!" The boss saw that she seemed dazed, so he reminded her. Yuju continued to pull his underwear down. This time she finally saw his cock. His cock was not as big as she thought it was, but thicker, so it looked bigger in his underwear. She slowly stroked on his cock. She felt very strange but had no choice but to continue in order to get the job. She used both of her hands to stroke his cock. Her hands were just big enough to completely encompass the length of his cock. So she began to stroke his cock up and down. While she was stroking, she also looked at the boss. He seemed dissatisfied with her performance and did not seem to enjoy it at all.

Yuju knew that if she wanted to make a guy cum she had to use her mouth, but she really didn't want to put a dick in her mouth. “You‘re so sucks at pleasing me. If you want me to cum, you need more than just a hand job.” She continued to stroke her cock with her hand and ignored her boss’s mood. As she continued to stroke his cock with her hand, she began to get horny. She looked at his glans and suddenly felt like putting the cock in her mouth. Since she only wanted to use her hands, the boss was getting less and less interested in her, so he wanted to stop her. When he wanted to stop her, he found that she already slightly extended her tongue to lick his glans. She began to lick his glans with her tongue. She also began to slowly lick around his cock. "Yes, that's it. That's what you need to do to make me cum." It seemed that because of the praise, Yuju became more and more skilled at licking without realising it. She was able to take her boss's cock in her mouth and spit it out, while her hands played with his balls. She also took her balls into her mouth while her hand continued to stroke his cock. “Yes, you're a fucking genius in this.” She was very happy to hear these compliments. He saw her horny face, which made him pat his dick on her face. She lets her boss pat his saliva-covered cock on her face and she seems really turned on.

Yuju couldn't wait to take his cock in her mouth again. So she opened her mouth and waited. The boss saw this and stuffed his dick into her mouth. But this time it wasn't Yuju who took the initiative, it was the boss. The boss's thick cock kept entering her mouth, causing her mouth to be constantly enlarged by the thick cock. Although the length was not long, it could at least deep down her throat. The boss couldn't help it, he grabbed her head and started facefucking her. “OH fuck Yuju, your mouth is so hot and good on taking my dick.” She couldn't answer the boss because she could only make the gag sound. Her mouth was drooling but she enjoyed being facefucked by her boss. The boss stopped when he hit the deep of her throat. He enjoyed the moment when her throat was tightened and wrapped his dick tightly. She patted his legs when she almost ran out of breath. The boss realised and pulled his dick out. Yuju was panting so hard when he pulled out his cock. He is watching his dick is dripping with her saliva. He also saw that her chin was full of saliva, he went over and licked clean all the saliva on her face. They have a passionate kiss. She grabbed his face and didn't want to let him go, and put her tongue into his mouth. The boss also put his tongue into her mouth. He held her waist and slowly moved her to the table. He laid her on the table but never stopped kissing her.

The boss took her bra off and ate her nipples. She was so aroused that she couldn't bear it any longer. “Just fuck me already, boss. Stop teasing me.” After hearing that, the boss couldn't wait to take off her panties and stuffed his cock into her already wet pussy. "You are so perfect, Yuju. Your pussy's shape is so perfect for my cock. I promise to make you happy every day if you become my secretary." After that, he continued to swing his hips and thrust into her. Before Yuju could even get used to her thickness, he was already pumping rapidly, and it didn't take long for her to squirt. He felt that she was about to squirt, so he pulled out his dick, and at that moment, Yuju squirted a lot. After squirting, she lay on the table and twitched. Her juices spurted all over the table and the floor. But the boss did not blame her. Instead, he looked at her glistening pussy that had just squirted and prepared for the second insertion.

Before she could rest, the boss had already inserted his dick into her. This time the insertion was easier than before because she had just squirted and her pussy was wet and warm. "Oh, boss. You fuck me so deep. I can't......" She couldn't even finish her words because of the boss's skillful thrusting. "Ah... you suck me so tight, it feels so good." The boss hasn't had sex with a girl who feels so good for a long time, and he feels like he's about to cum. He grabbed Yuju's waist and increased the speed of his thrusts. "Yes.... boss. Fuck me like this. Ruined me with your dick please." “Fuck… Yuju… I am about to cum.” Along with the boss's moan, he also shot his semen into her body. He took out his cock and watched his semen flow out of her pussy. “It’s so hot inside me.” Yuju felt his warm cum in her pussy. The boss didn't want to cum inside Yuju, but she made him feel so good that he accidentally cummed inside her.

She picked up some of the semen with her fingers, took a look at it, and then lay on the table, gasping for breath. "Is my performance okay?" He smiled and said: "You're hired, Yuju ssi." "Thank you, boss." He approached Yuju again and aimed his dick at her pussy. “This is your orientation party.” He smirked and inserted his dick in her pussy again. Yuju didn't stop him and they both had sex until both of them were tired.

#gfriend smut #gfriend yuju smut #yuju smut #choi yuna smut

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 8 months ago

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Chapter 8: Jealousy Doesn't Look Good On Anybody Except...

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter eight of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing (a few times), Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC,

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

The song they dance to is "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" by Russ Columbo and this should take you to the song. It's the song I named the series for, because I believe it encompasses how both the reader feels, but also how Soldier Boy will feel in a few chapters. I also believe that the song House of Memories by Panic at the Disco, fits the more modern parts of the series.

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Philadelphia 1938

The lights twinkled along the ceiling of the dance hall as the gentle swell of jazz floated through the air. Couples swayed on the dance floor clinging to one another as the soft tones of the music soothed the dull throb of the whispers of rising tension overseas. It was a Saturday night, and you and a few of your friends from the Dawson School for Girls had slipped away to spend the evening twirling in the arms of whomever caught your fancy.

Well, at least that's what your friends wanted to do. There was only one particular man who'd caught your fancy, but he was nowhere to be seen.

The Dawson School for Girls was the answer to your mother's prayers, a boarding school in Boston, far away from Ben's "corruptive influence" as she put it. Ben was currently at boarding school number ten in Upstate New York. The last time you’d seen him was when you were on break and Ben had just left boarding school number nine for fighting with other students, but he wouldn't say what for. You’d sent him a few letters to tell him how bored you were including a few sketches and watercolor paintings, with minimal response, but it was like him not to write back.

You hadn't mentioned that Howard Stine had been coming on the weekends to take you out. Your mother was pleased with him, he checked all the boxes: wealthy, not Ben, educated, not Ben, from a nice family, not Ben, and of course most importantly, not Ben.

She was practically making wedding invitations and choosing the names of your children after only three months. However, it was nice to see her happy for a change, kept her from sniping at your figure now that someone was interested. Well, not sniping that much.

Howard was… nice, but he was one of the most boring people you'd ever met and he never understood why you always carried a sketchbook with you. When he'd taken you to Franklin Park one weekend, you stopped along the pond to sketch some of the ducks that were waddling on the bank, but Howard told you he didn’t have time to wait for you to draw them. Instead of telling him that he could just leave, you shut the sketchpad and continued to walk with him and quickly learned that it was better to leave your sketchpad at the dorm whenever he was in town. You also found yourself talking less and less, allowing him to fill the silence with his talk of the stock market crash and how the United States economy recovered due to the efforts of President FDR.

You hated that. You didn't recognize yourself when you were with him. You didn't feel like you.

And every time he was here all you could do was compare him to Ben. Ben would never tell you to stop drawing, yes he would tease you about it, but he always sat next to you while you were sketching, watching you work. You never understood that. Ben was so impatient with everyone else, but he was willing to sit with you for any inordinate amount of time if you were drawing while making you laugh the whole time.

I miss him so much.

"Can I get you a drink?" Howard puts his hand on the small of your back, leaning in to whisper in your ear. You try not to flinch at his touch. He had already been in town, walking you home from a dinner that was dominated by awkward silence and the clicking of utensils on plates when you'd run into your friends just as he was walking you back to the dorm. They had rounded the corner giggling and begging you to come with them. Despite your insistences for him to stay in and relax for the night at his hotel, he refused.

It meant that now you were stuck with him while all your friends got to twirl around with men that made them warm and giddy. Howard made you feel like you'd swallowed a lemon.

"I'm fine, but thank you." You force a smile.

Howard shrugs, before he walks away towards the crowded bar on the other side of the room and blessedly far away from you.

Your thoughts drifted to Ben. You missed your friend more than words could comprehend. Not just because you were far from your family in another city, but because it felt like you were missing apart of yourself when he wasn't there. You briefly wonder if he felt the same way when he wasn't with you.

Probably not.

You turn away from Howard's retreating figure, to watch the couples on the dance floor. You sway to the music, holding your arms around yourself and feeling your dark green dress swish around your ankles, one that you'd picked out yourself, not a monstrosity of pink tulle, but something that you believed accentuated the natural curves of your body that your mother used other dresses to hide. Your mouth turns down into a frown remembering how Howard had reacted to seeing you in it, when he tried to give you his jacket to cover up, but you refused.

You had wanted him to be stunned by how you looked in it, or at least, wanted someone to be. The same someone that was miles away and probably tickling the skirt of someone who caught his fancy.

"One of the most attractive men I've ever seen in my life is at the bar." Your friend Pearl stated looking behind you with wide eyes.

I've got you beat. You think to yourself to a sigh, wishing, again, that you were here with Ben instead of Howard.

"Very funny." You roll your eyes, thinking that she’s making fun of where Howard is sitting probably flagging down the bartender with both hands to catch his attention.

"I'm not talking about Howard. This guy is seriously a looker. And he's staring at you." Pearl says again.

"Sure." You continue to watch an elderly couple sway back and forth to the smooth jazz that ebbs from the band on stage.

Must be nice to be with someone for that long.

You watch how effortlessly the couple moves as one, how the man stares down at the woman with more love than you can comprehend. It makes your heart sink in your chest.

The way things were panning out, you were going to end up with Howard and you couldn't imagine looking at anyone like that other than Ben.

"You're about to see, because he's coming this way." Pearl takes a step back from you as if anticipating the stranger interrupting your conversation.

"He's not-" You begin to say, but you feel someone place their hand on the small of your back, turning you towards them.

"Fancy meeting you here." Ben smiles down at you, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

"Ben!" Your heart soars when you recognize your friend and you can't help but hug him so tight he laughs, the movement of his chuckle makes you feel alive for the first time in weeks. The sharp smell of whiskey and the familiar spicy scent of his cologne greets you.

"Guess you missed me." The rumble of his voice vibrates where your cheek rests against his chest.

"I did." You pull away from him reluctantly. "What are you doing here?" You can't help but smile at him, probably wider than what was attractive.

"Thought I'd stop by and visit on my way back to Philadelphia. Saw you walk into this place. " Ben shrugs. "What are you doing out so late?"

"Looking for trouble." You smirk.

"You found him sweetheart." Ben leans down towards you making your throat get unusually tight.

"Hi." Pearl says interrupting the conversation.

Ben turns his smug smile on her. "Hi."

"I'm Pearl." She looks from you to Ben as if trying to decide that it's okay for her to introduce yourself.

"Benjamin." You watch him slip into the cool and smooth Ben, the one that charmed whomever caught his eye.

You can't help but feel a prick of jealousy against your skin. It was familiar, but every time it happened, it didn't make any of this easier. You knew that you shouldn't be jealous, you didn't have a claim on him, you were friends, just friends, only friends, best friends…

And now you were with Howard.

You let out a soft sigh watching the way that Pearl looks up at Ben and the way he leans towards her with the confident smirk you love so much on his face.

"Would you like to dance Benjamin?" She asks.

"I would." Ben's smirk turns into a smile.

Pearl steps forward to reach for his hand, expecting him to take it, but he doesnt.

"Come on sweetheart." Ben reaches out and takes your hand, twirling you ahead of him onto the dance floor.

"Ben-" You giggle, head spinning with the movement, but when he twirls you back into his chest, you feel your breath catch. This wasn't the first time you'd been pressed up against him and it wasn't the first time you recognized how perfectly you fit together. Your soft curves molding against the hardness of his muscles as you sway back and forth to the music. When you were pressed up against him, you didn't feel like you were too big, you felt perfect, because of the way you fit against him.

"You know I am here with someone-" You say, before you get too wrapped up in how good it feels to be with him.

"Yes. Howard Stine. Though I do believe you said he stepped on your toes." Ben smiles at you, eyes twinkling in the light.

"That was four years ago, and he's… sweet?"

"Hmph." Ben rolls his eyes. "You can't even say it with a straight face sweetheart."

"I have never said anything bad about your companions."

"Missy-"

"Besides her." You frown.

He laughs at your reaction, the hand clutched in your right seems to warm with his smile. "You've never said anything about them period."

Because I hate thinking about how many of them there have been. Because I hate that you don't see me as someone who could be with you.

"I try not to dwell on your numerous escapades."

"You sound a little jealous doll." He smirks at you.

"What was that you were saying about Howard again?" You tease, holding on to his shoulders as you sway back and forth to the music.

"Can't be jealous of someone I've seen get chased by a duck." Ben's eyes trace your body for a moment. Your cheeks blush under his gaze. "You look nice. Not one of your mom's I'm guessing?"

"What makes you say that?"

"You don't look like a cupcake." He spins you away one more time before bringing you back into his chest.

"No. I think she'd probably have an aneurysm if she saw me wearing this. Howard also thought it was a bit much-"

Ben's hand tightens on your waist. "What?"

You shrug, leveling your eyes on his chest to distract yourself from his hand placement. "He tried to get me to wear his coat."

"He what?"

You shake your head to dissipate the self-doubt and body-shaming conversation that was about to unfold in your head.

"It's nothing." You raise your gaze back to his, but you're surprised to see the anger that burns behind his green eyes.

"It's not nothing. He had no right to-"

"Ben." You soothe, rubbing your thumb over his shoulder to comfort him.

The song shifts to something softer, forlorn, a song that reminded you of the heartache you felt with Ben, but also a melody that eases your soul somehow.

"I don't understand why you're with him." Ben sighs, but you can still feel the tension in his shoulders beneath your hand.

"My mother is happy-"

"But you're not." The look in his eyes is unfamiliar, almost earnest, as if he's trying to get you to understand something that he can't say.

"Ben." You breathe.

"Fine. I don't want you to think about him when we're dancing to our song anyway." The look in his eyes shifts back to the playful green they'd been before.

"Our song?" The words make your heart skip a beat and you can't help but smile at him.

You couldn't remember the last time you'd smiled this much. Probably the last time I saw him.

"Yes." Ben dips you back, before bringing you up against him, the playful look in his eyes becoming softer as you come back.

You know that your own gaze is filled with love and you remember watching the elderly couple. The way they looked at one another warming your heart as you gaze up at Ben. The three little words tiptoe against your tongue, the three little words that you'd been trying to say forever, but you can't. You don't want to lose him, don't want to live in a world without him, because you know that it won't be worth living.

So instead you lean forward and lay your head against his chest, in the space between his neck and shoulder as the song continues. You think that you feel Ben's arms tighten around you, pulling you further into his embrace, but you chock that up to wishful thinking.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" You hear someone yell, and all of a sudden someone's hand is on your wrist jerking you away from Ben.

What?

Howard is standing there his chest pushed against Ben’s, trying to look intimidating, but Howard's inability to reach Ben's shoulders made it difficult for him.

You rub your fingers over your wrist, where Howard’s bright red handprint stands out against your skin.

Ben’s eyes shift to notice your ministrations, darkening with the force of his anger at the thought that Howard hurt you.

“I think I was dancing with my girl.” Ben’s eyes narrow, skating back to Howard.

Your heart skips a beat when he says that, but you shake away the thought, knowing that Ben is only saying that to make Howard angry.

“Your girl?!” Howard sputters, his face growing red. “She’s not your girl!”

“Howie, buddy-“ Ben’s confident smirk slips over his features but you still see the anger beneath the surface. “Calm down, you’ll give yourself a heart attack.”

“Just because you think you have some claim on her because you’ve been stringing her along with the harem that usually follows you, does not make her your girl!” Howard fumes. “She’s with me.” Howard grabs your wrist again and drags you towards him.

“Hey wait a minute-“ You begin to say.

Ben grabs the front of Howard's tailored suit, rumpling the pristine fabric. “Don’t you dare touch her like that.”

“I will touch her however I damn well please! She's mine-"

The grip on your wrist is so tight that you know it’ll leave bruises. “Howard wait-“ You try again to diffuse the tension, bringing your free hand to rest on his forearm to make him let go.

“Shut up.” He snaps, eyes flashing back to you.

Ben’s temper flares and the sharp crack of his fist against Howard’s face echoes through the room. Howard stumbles away, letting go of your wrist as he reels backward to the welcoming hardwood floor that catches him when he falls.

“Don’t you ever speak to her that way you arrogant son of a bitch!” Ben shouts taking a step forward. His shoulders are tense, fists clenched at his sides and his jaw is tight, as his anger burns through the air.

By now the band has stopped playing music and all the couples around you are watching with wide eyes.

I have to do something before he kills him.

You put yourself between them, your hands firmly planted on Ben’s muscular chest so your back is to where Howard stands fuming. “Ben. Don’t.”

But he’s not looking at you, his gaze is locked with Howard’s, eyes blazing, muscles tensing beneath the palms of your hands. You try to ignore how good his chest feels beneath your touch.

Damn it.

“Ben.” You say his name again.

His eyes snap back to yours. The soft green has hardened to an emerald with the force of his rage, so different than how he looked when the two of you were dancing. But he doesn’t say anything.

“Please.” You whisper. "Stop."

Ben looks from you to Howard, before he finally exhales. “Fine.” He mutters, and he turns and vanishes into the crowd of people without another word.

A minute passes and the music begins all over again, the band on the stage starting with a lively tune that makes the couples around you to move back on to the dance floor, but the tension of what just happened remains in the air.

Because what did just happen? Did Ben do that because he was protective of me? Or did he do that because he was jealous?

Your eyes trace where he vanished, longing for him to come back, but when he doesn't appear, you're left to deal with the aftermath.

After numerous apologies to Howard, he finally relented and took you back to your dorm, leaving your group of friends at the dance hall. You knew there would definitely be a conversation about what just happened between you all when they got back, but even you were confused. Ben was always protective of you, but what happened seemed over the top. You think about how Ben called you “my girl," the way he said it sending a thrill down your spine. He’d never done that before and you wondered if it was because he wanted to get a rise out of Howard or because he believed it.

Not like he’s tried to do anything about it. You think to yourself stroking one finger against your bruised wrist. The discoloration was more prominent now, black and blue marks beginning to sprout like flowers in spring. Howard’s eye didn’t look much better when he dropped you off. You were surprised that he’d been forgiving enough to continue to see you, not that you wanted to see him, but you didn't think you could handle a letter from your mother.

Then again maybe she would pull you out of this ridiculous school.

A small tap at your window causes you to raise your head to look out the glass. Ben is sitting there, but he doesn’t smile like he usually does. Your dorm room was on the first floor, which meant that Ben didn't need to shimmy up a tree to get into it like he did when you were home. Then again this was the first time he'd showed up here and you wondered how he knew where your room was. You also weren't thrilled at his appearance because you didn't know when Pearl would come back and you weren't sure what your roommate would do if she came back and found Ben in your room. She was a stickler for the rules and despite your friendship, rooming with her was one of your least favorite things about the Dawson School For Girls.

“If they find you here I’m going to be in so much trouble.” You say helping him through the small window, putting your hand on the back of his head so that he doesn't bang it against the glass. "You might like getting kicked out of boarding schools, but I don't."

“They won’t find out.” Ben rolls his eyes. He glances at Pearl’s empty bed on the other side of the room. “Roommate not back yet?”

“No she was still dancing when I left.”

Ben frowns. “Where’s the asshole?”

“Ben-“

“What?”

“He left. And I don't exactly invite him up to where I sleep."

“Good.” Ben flexes his fist.

“How did you know which room was mine?” You ask. Ben had never come to see you before at boarding school and the fact that he was here probably meant that boarding school number ten was out.

“I might have guessed wrong.” He smirks.

“Uh-huh.” You sigh, but all you can think about is how he acted earlier. Your feet shift back and forth “Why did you hit him?”

Ben’s eyes darken. “He shouldn’t have touched you like that or said that to you.”

You stand there for a minute observing his reaction.

“He kinda deserved it." You say slowly.

You knew it was true. When Ben showed up Howard shouldn’t have lost it like he did, he definitely shouldn’t have grabbed you like that or called you his-

You stutter on that thought. But maybe he is right. I am Howard’s. We’ve been going steady… The thought of being his makes something curl up in your chest and die. There was only one man that you wanted to belong to.

"Yeah.” Ben sighs.

"Why did you call me your 'girl'?" You ask.

"Um." Ben shrugs. "Felt right in the moment."

"What?"

"I mean you are. You're my friend-"

"But that doesn't mean friend Ben." You say it gently trying to catch his eye, but Ben won't meet your gaze.

"Fine. I just wanted to mess with him a little bit." Ben frowns. "But I didn't like that he called you his, or the fact that he hurt you."

“But Ben I am his.” You whisper even though you don’t want to. “We’re going steady-“

“That doesn’t make you his!” Ben snaps, eyes flashing. “Just because he feels the need to say it doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“But Ben-“

“And I never want to hear you say it.” He continues loudly.

What is wrong with him? I've never seen him this angry about anything.

“Why?”

“Because that means he has some claim on you. You’re not his, you’re my friend.”

"You're being ridiculous. You're saying that he can't have some claim on me but you're possessively calling me your friend!" You shout back frustrated.

Why is he acting like this? Does he really hate Howard that much?

"I am not! I'm just saying that you're my friend and you're not his!"

“I can’t be both?” Your words hang in the air between the two of you and you mentally beg Ben to answer. He was acting like he wanted you to be his, like he believed that he had some claim on you and you couldn't remember another time that he'd acted this way. Sure he teased Howard, but this was more than that.

It was almost possessive and it kinda scared you how much you liked it.

Ben doesn’t answer your question. His shoulders are tense, hands clenched into fists at his sides, while something lurks behind his eyes that you can’t identify.

“Ben?” You say it like a question, ignoring the urge to press your hands against his chest like you did earlier at the dance to calm him down.

His gaze drops to your arm, where Howard grabbed you, tracing the bruises and clenching his jaw together. Ben’s right hand comes to delicately pick up your bruised wrist, running his thumb over the discolored flesh with a frown. “Does it hurt?” He rumbles changing the subject.

“No. Does that hurt?” You breathe noticing his bruised knuckles and gently probe your fingers along them.

You hated the though that he was hurt and for you, no less.

Why did he have to intervene? Why did he hit Howard?

“It was worth it.”

You both stand there for a minute, with Ben holding on to your wrist, touch surprisingly gentle.

“I just don’t like that he hurt you okay?” He mutters raising his eyes to yours. You weren't prepared for the soft look in his eyes. You expected him to still be angry over Howard, but he almost looked, worried.

“I'm okay Ben." You whisper back.

You want him to answer your question. You think again about telling him those three little words you wanted to say when you were swaying on the dance floor together but you can’t.

He nods once before he looks around the room, eyes falling on your sketchpad where it lays closed on your bed. "Got any new ones?"

You knew it was Ben's way of asking if he could stay, trying to tell you that he didn’t want to go back to Philadelphia that night, and you didn't want him to either.

"A few. If you're not too tired-"

"I’m never too tired for you."

You feel your heart beat rapidly in your chest. “Okay.”

The whole time you sit together on your bed, Ben doesn't drop your wrist, in fact he continues to brush his thumb against it while you look through your sketchbook. And in a few hours when Pearl finds you and Ben curled up in bed together, you’re not embarrassed, because deep down you’re starting to believe that Ben cared for you more than he was willing to admit.

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series, please let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303

@deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs

@bughill126

#soldier boy x you #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy/ben #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #jensen ackles #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x y/n #the boys series #the boys tv #soldier boy fic #the boys season 3 #the boys s3

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thatlittlered · 12 days ago

Text

the craft | celebrimbor

warning(s): afab!reader (use of the word lady), very discreet spoilers for rings of power

GIF by @leotanaka

author's note: i think i deserve a little kiss for my use of the title craft because of its dual meaning, don't you? going to write another part, unless I don't because I can't be trusted :)

also, requests for rings of power characters are open for now! give me some ideas and I'll see what I can do.

-.-.-

A beautiful sunset melts from golden to orange and fiery red hues, almost as crimson as the seeds of pomegranate in your fingers. Fruit of the only such tree in the whole of Eregion and yet another undoubtedly hospitable gift from the Elf-lord Celebrimbor, whose kindness and generosity have proven to be as boundless as his artistry.

A guest within his palace for far longer than initially intended, you cannot help but feel horribly indebted to him; a sentiment he has always refused to allow you to express and instead showered you with even more gifts, so many that you could not possibly take them with you if and when you are ever to return home, or whatever might be left of it once these dark times are hopefully over. Such is the cup you are currently enjoying warm tea from, the kind that he personally recommended and had sent to you. Laced with intricate carvings of beautiful flowers you do not think you’ve ever even seen in your long lifetime, this gift surpasses the simple nature of others, for it was crafted especially for you and whilst you may not know this part, bears the likeness of his favourite flora that grows near the bank of the river Bruinen, where he had hoped to take you soon. Alas, his tender plans were soon cast aside when the mysterious stranger Halbrand unbeknownst to you, began to seduce him into isolation and an obsessive mulling over the Nine.

You have not met with Celebrimbor in weeks and his forge, which had previously been open to you in yet another attempt to make you feel welcome and perhaps even timidly show off his craft, now remains completely shut off from the rest of the world. Your gentle requests to meet with the Elven-smith go unanswered, as do your letters to the dear and endlessly respected friends who had sent you here in the first place. Of course, neither attempt at communication ever reaches its intended receiver. The stranger has made sure of that, and while you suspect something is amiss, all this silence has become its own form of isolation.

You were sent here as a trusted friend, meant to provide guidance and council while the High King leads the way toward the necessary path of war and your other companions follow, yet the situation has rendered you incapable of aiding either cause. It seems there is nothing to do but wait and carry on enjoying the commodities the Elf-lord sends your way despite his absence.

As if brought to life by the intensity of your thoughts, there is gentle knocking on your door, the kind you recognize from the often times he has been so eager to be in your company before.

“Come in.”

You try to wipe your fingers clean from the evidence of the sweet seeds, but his rushed entry in your chamber surprises you. Your still-stained thumb leaves the smallest of bloodlike marks on your tunic, but you do not notice when your eyes meet Celebrimbor’s. A smile blooms on his tired face instantly as he once again rushes to approach you.

“My dear friend, glassen na chen cenin.” It is my joy to see you.

You move to take hold of his hands in reverence, but he once again surprises you by grasping your face in his palms instead. The stranger’s persuasion has given him a newfound confidence along with a sense of purpose, when he had been as shy as a youngling in your presence before.

“My Lady.”

The title he has given you is not one of true nobility, for you bear no such titles, but one that simply rolls off his tongue in his endless admiration of you. Anything else seems too intimate when he tries to speak it, even your name in itself. His thoughts are muddled and overwhelming in your presence.

His palms are warm and surprisingly soft when they hold you. It is impossible not to smile.

“I did not expect your visit, but I am glad to be proven wrong.”

He frowns gently and you cannot help but admire the creases of his lovely face as they are illuminated by the last rays of sun for the day.

“I am deeply sorry for my absence. I can only hope you do not think I have abandoned you, for in my heart and thoughts, I am always with you.”

Your own hand caresses just above his brow in an attempt to soothe him. He always worries so, but you would gladly take over each and every of his burdens if it meant he would finally be at peace. He has never spoken words like these to you before, always hiding behind the cloak of hospitality in an effort to be close to you. Celebrimbor, the Ñoldorin prince and last of the line of the Fëanor, has inherited none of his ancestors’ pride, but instead carries the shame of their actions deep within his soul, where it most wounds him. It is that shame that has for so long allowed him to succumb to loneliness and refrain from fantasies of greatness.

Annatar’s revelation comes as a gift, a holy permission, to bring forth life’s work that could dare to compete with that of those who came before him. It allows him to venture and now, clad in this new air of hope and ambition, come before you as he truly is and as he truly hopes to be beside you.

“I couldn’t possibly think myself abandoned when you shower me with gifts, even in your absence. I am aware of the weight that has been placed upon your shoulders and you have rightfully given your time to more important matters, or persons.”

“None as important as you. Please, do not mistake it for hospitality, for I act based on my own selfish affections.”

“How can any such affection be selfish? I would say it is anything but.”

“Oh, but I fear it is. Even my coming here is to satisfy my own longing after having spent so many morns and nights without seeing you.”

Neither of you possess the poetic prowess to capture the tenderness of this moment, the ceaseless warmth of still being held in his hands without a regard to impropriety. Even if you did, words would undoubtedly fall short.

“Well, I am glad to have your company, for as long as you can spare it.”

“I never wish to withhold it again.”

Celebrimbor melts into this half-embrace until his forehead gently leans on yours.

“I only wish I could be of assistance and help you bear this great burden.”

“Your mere presence renders my soul lighter, guren vell,” my sweet heart, “but I know now that what has been bestowed upon me is not a burden, but a gift unlike no other. Just as you are. I have been sworn to silence, but know that we have been blessed and when my work is finished, our woes will be over.”

Something has changed within him and it is there for everyone with eyes to see.

It worries you.

“Sworn to secrecy? Even from me, who knows the truth of your assignment?”

He lays a gentle kiss on your forehead, holding you even closer.

“What started as a desperate attempt to clutch at whatever power can be wielded in our favour during these trying times, has now become much larger, much more important than I could have ever imagined. Bigger than you or I, for it was brought forth by a glorious agent of Valinor and now I can finally be of use to this greater cause.”

He senses the uncertainty in you before you can speak it.

“You must think I’ve gone mad.”

“Of course not. I would trust you with my life, my faith knows no bounds. My hesitance is rooted in concern.”

“Concern for the safety of the rings?”

“Concern for you, melethron nîn.” My beloved.

There is such emotion in the way he is looking at you.

“I cannot gainsay that which has been asked of me, but afterward…”

“Afterward?”

“After I have proven myself worthy, perhaps you would consider staying here, with me. Perhaps then I will be someone you could imagine a life with.”

“Oh, Celebrimbor, you already are. What words must I speak for you to know the depth of my feelings?”

Words are miniscule when faced with the self-doubt that’s so deeply rooted within him. The stranger has seen this and taken full advantage. The promise of glory has overshadowed the love you so willingly offer, even though the allure of recognition was that he might come to deserve it in the first place. His adoring smile distracts from how flat your reassurance has fallen. His mind is set.

“When all of this is over, I promise to devote myself wholly to you and only you. Gerog i chûn nîn. Until then...” You hold my heart. His hands leave your skin for a moment in order to produce what must be a gift, neatly wrapped in rich velvet fabric. “It is nothing of great significance, but I wanted you to have these.”

You carefully unwrap it, only to find inside the most beautiful jewels, cast in gold and carved with astounding detail, so much so that you can clearly make out every petal, every stem of the flowers he has chosen that remind him of you.

“I noticed you like to adorn your hair. I thought these might be to your liking, though my hands could never make something akin your beauty. Only the Valar can master such a craft and you are the living proof.”

Such sweetness comes from his mouth. Such thoughtfulness to even now, amidst the chaos he was forced in, dedicate all this time and effort to something just for you.

“Nothing of great significance? This is the most significant gift I have ever received. The gift of all gifts; a token of your love.”

Proper elven courtship is forgotten when your eyes lock again. A kiss is required for the sake of both of your sanities and you happily initiate. You would have thought him shy and reserved, but he quickly responds in equal fervour. Your lips are soft against his thin ones and his heart sings. If only he could find within him the words to convey that. Nevertheless, you do not require it of him and he loves you even more for it.

You are content to stay where you are; mouths and bodies tenderly interlocked. When you part, there are only childish grins to be shared, ones not to be expected from eternal beings, but perhaps maturity comes hand in hand with love and the two of you have only now found it.

“Might I?”

With an approving nod, you turn your back on him, once again placing your trust in the man you’ve come to love. He laces his fingers in your hair so gently, as if set to work on fragile sheets of gold, but to him, any part of you is far more precious. You feel him carefully pick strands and clasp in them in the lovely jewels, up until the last one. Curiosity wins and you try to turn your head enough to see, only to witness him touch your hair against his lips before adding the last one.

Celebrimbor blushes upon being caught, but does not look away. You take this opportunity to simply look at each other. He wishes to gather you in his arms, but does not dare. You, again, are happy to take the initiative, but he stops you before you can embrace him fully.

“Are you hurt?”

There is ample confusion until you feel his hand gather in the skirt of your tunic where the blood-like stain still resides. The panic on his face is touching, yet unnecessary.

“Do not worry, my love, it is only pomegranate.”

When in your arms again, he seemingly relaxes, yet his mind is still racing. A familiar sense of dread pools somewhere within him.

This is a bad omen.

#celebrimbor x reader #celebrimbor #the rings of power #lord of the rings #trop #spoilers #trop spoilers

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rosedere · 5 months ago

Text

The Liyue Lotus and the Merchant from Snezhnaya

(Pantalone x Fem! Reader)

MDNI +18

Cw: kidnapping, Stalking, non con elements, Graphic violence (later chapters), Yandere content *will update as the series goes

Cross posted on AO3

Part 1 , Part 2, Chapter 3. Mora Eater (you are here) , Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7~

Synopsis: Unfortunately, The Regerator develops a fixation with you while you are working undercover for Yelan. And there’s no one who can get in his way of his prized Lotus.

For a Root, for a Leaf, for a Branch, for a Tree

For Something, Somebody, that reminded them of Me

Running with my Roots pulled up

Caught me cold so they could cut

What there was left of Love

I'm rootless

Pantalone

“And then she...?” Pantalone mused while his hands were interlaced on top of his dark oak desk.

“Well, we don’t know…” Galina twiddled her thumbs.

“She went in so quickly, we couldn’t exactly figure out where she went,” Fedor added.

“But! But—she seemed safe; none of those men in treasure hoarder clothing were around her,” Galina interrupted.

Pantalone only nodded before turning in his swivel chair towards the open windows overlooking the harbor.

“But if we may inquire, my Lord, what are we up against?" Fedor questioned

“I’m not terribly sure myself either, but I know whoever it is, they have Lián terrified.”

Pantalone moved his hand under his chin, “I noticed they were watching her ever since we met in the harbor.” His eyes flicked up towards the two before him.

“Whoever they are seem to be skilled in the art of illusion.”

Fedor and Galina nodded, beckoning him to continue.

“That’s why I want you two to accompany us for dinner this evening.”

“If you seek them once again, immediately capture them for questioning,” Pantone casually ordered.

“Using the codeword, right?” Galina asked.

Pantalone merely nodded. A pregnant pause befell the room above the northland bank, tucked away behind a staircase only a select few knew about.

“Where is my precious Lián anyway?” Pantalone asked.

The two guards stood at attention.

“We left her at the spot you requested; she should be waiting for you with the other temporary guards,” Fedor responded, “She also wore the items you sent as well, my lord.”

Pantalone turned back abruptly to where the two guards stood across from his desk.

“Are you telling me the truth now, Fedor?” Pantalone narrowed his eyes.

“Of course, my lord,” Fedor answered in surprise, “you’ll see her in a moment anyway to confirm yourself.”

Pantalone finally stood up slowly from where he sat, looking down at the window behind him. The harbor bustled with life, and colors of the whole spectrum were before him.

Normally, his gaze would flick over towards the shipyard, past the funeral parlor, where your humble apartment was. But you weren’t there currently confirming what Pantone had received from his report.

He then turned his head to face the center of Liyue, towards the restaurant he had made plans to meet you at— Xinyue kiosk.

See, today was a very important day for him.

Receiving a letter earlier that morning, opening it he scowled hard at the contents inside.

He finally met the love of his life after being stuck in Liyue with... well, a certain ginger subordinate for many years, and now he was being forced to return to Sneznhaya for an indefinite time.

“My lord, it’s time to meet Miss Lián." Galina stood at attention next to the desk.

”Ah, yes, I must not keep her waiting.” Pantalone walked around his desk towards the awaiting guards.

He cant keep his precious lotus waiting for too long, for the shadows were already in position around her from the last glance he took at the window.

Waiting in the evening heat was unbearable in the fur collar draped around you.

It was starting to make you think maybe it was for the better that your slits were opened like they were before you made your alterations.

Your dress was now stitched from the inside where the slits were previously, making it a shapy type of dress on you instead of how open it was, now a white spider lily graced the closed slits with only your lacy shawl covering your shoulders to allow you to breathe in the humidity the harbor offered around this time.

The new guards that were assigned to you were mostly silent, only occasionally asking if you were fine before you answered with a dismissive wave and a reassured “I'm alright” before they’d continue to look at... Well, seemingly nothing; you were now on top of the rooftop, sitting in the Kiosk, overlooking a little sliver of the harbor and the colorful rooftops of the city. They were seemingly watching the skyline, most likely feeling that you did not want to be here at all.

"Lián,” the familiar voice called to you.

Looking over your shoulder towards the door was your date surrounded by your new bodyguards, who were escorting him to sit across from you. He was dressed as he normally was only with a more relaxed look on his face.

A bouquet of some blue and frost-like flowers was in his hands, from what you could tell.

sitting down across from you on the cherry oak table across from you where a sparkling yellow lantern shone, Galina and Fedor taking their place besides the guards you were stuck with the whole four hours waiting for them to return.

Pantalone quickly grabbed your wrist before letting his lips caress the top of your hand, giving it a soft peck.

Resisting the pullback, you let his lips linger on your outstretched hand before letting you take your hand back.

"My lotus, hopefully you enjoy these flowers," he held them towards you.

"I had you in mind when I picked them out for tonight." His lips curled into a smile when you extended your arm to hold said flowers.

"They certainly are.. something " You received them, smelling the sharp, frosted blooms.

gesturing for your guards, you handed them off for them to hold before receding into the side of your peripheral.

”Im surprised you actually wore your gift I bought you,” his gaze giving you his full attention as he absorbed your image before him.

”I am too—I had to alter them to my fit as they were almost unwearable with my physique,” you waved your hand over the tight fabric hanging on your chest.

”Forgive me, I only picked what looked like it would fit you; Snezhnaya clothing is different from the sizes here in Liyue, I'm afraid." He then grabbed your resting hand, holding it in his much bigger ones.

smiling to hide the uncomfortable handhold, you would roll your eyes, being able to see the true motive behind his "gift.”

Maybe if you cut to the chase, you could end this one-sided relationship you found yourself in.

Besides, he probably had many younger women than yourself all over Teyvat throwing themselves onto the richest man in all of Sneznhaya.

Before you could make a retort, though, you caught a couple of different fatui caterers coming up the kiosk stairs with different plates of foods you’d only seen when Ningguang would celebrate an achievement in the floating palace, their footsteps muted on the wooden planks on the ground..

Pantalone’s fierce amethyst eyes never left your face even after you moved your hands from the table in order for the servers to leave the different types of foods of varying food groups in front of you. The smell was amazing, especially when the golden shrimp balls that were coated in a thick honey-coated batter were laid before you.

Your stomach was lightly rumbling, and you tried your best to ignore it. You weren't about to kill yourself over possible poisoned golden shrimp balls; it was best to find an excuse not to eat, you thought.

”Please enjoy your meal, my lord, and—“

Mistress

You smiled, thanking the guard out of habit, before you realized what they had truly done.

”Eat, my fragile lotus." Pantalone gestured to the bamboo shoot soup and the large plate of golden crab in front of you. “It’s all being funded by me,” he said happily, reaching over to the large pot of tea and grabbing a cup to serve into.

Watching him pour the tea into the jade-glazed cup, you eyed the table. Most of the food seemed fresh and steaming hot, but you knew better, remembering a colleague who lost their life to drinking a tea that was slowly making them sicker and sicker as his days went on, only to find out the deal had gone wrong.

You watched him grab the plate and serve himself almost every single thing from the table, serving it on what reminded you of a sampler platter. You didn't know he had such an appetite until suddenly the plate he had been serving was placed in front of you.

“Here is your plate, Lián," He carefully grabbed the silverware in front of you, grabbing for the knife. You almost jumped in reflex until you heard the sound of him cutting different cuts of meat and seafood with his dark gloved hands.

“I apologize once more, my dearest; my mind is all over the place currently; I almost forgot my manners towards my beloved,” he chuckled, finishing cutting your food before leaving you your utensils to eat with.

”Oh, that's quite alright; I’ve just never had anyone go out of their way to serve me nor think about me as much as you do,” you tried to flatter, “Hopefully you serve yourself as well; I wouldn't want you to go hungry.”

“Ah, don't worry about that, darling; I will get my fill as well.” Grabbing the plate beside him, he began to serve himself. Watching him, you noticed him grab for the same selection of food he had served onto your plates, the portions much smaller than what you received on your plate, but nonetheless, the same foods he served you, even serving himself the warm oolong tea in his cup.

“My lord,” Galina suddenly spoke up from besides the doorway near the entryway.

”I must ask where the purple scarf is,” she asked.

Pantalone gently set the teapot down before flicking his gaze towards the Fatui Mage.

”Please bring it to me at once, Galina and Fedor; this tea would not be suitable without it.” He mindlessly pointed to the teapot.

Just as quickly as they announced their prescene, they disappeared in a mass of elemental energy.

You didn't say anything, focusing on the food you’d been served.

“So pardon me if this seems...” You trailed off, poking your shrimp in front of you.

“Blunt– but what’s the occasion?” you asked, looking back at pantalone across from you.

His smile spread to the ends of his mouth as he focused his amethyst hues towards you.

“Oh, you're a very savvy lotus, aren't you?” he chuckled, clasping his gloves together. “I will also give you a blunt answer,” he exhaled.

“I must return back to Sneznhaya for an important meeting regarding one of our subordinates.”

“I won't be back for a month at most.”

You could tell he wanted to say more, but he seemed to pause.

"Lián, have you touched your food yet?”

“You haven't touched anything on your plate yet, dearest.”

You smiled, an awkward smile, to pantalone.

“I haven't,” you said, clearing your throat, “But!” you scrambled.

“You haven't eaten either- pantalone” you pointed a manicured nail towards the plate in front of him.

A slight pause was earned from him; leaving an awkward pause in the air as you waited for an answer.

"Oh, I see how it is,” he chuckled, putting a hand to his chest.

“You know I wouldn't serve you anything that hasn't been checked before being served to the table.”

You eyed the table once more, looking over the vast arrays of food youd taken a quick scan of earlier.

“You know, Lián, it seems like...”

“You're hiding from something,” he pondered.

Straightening your posture at the mention.

Time to test your acting skills

“Now I have to be cautious, you know?” You leaned back in your chair with your eyes closed.

“I am associating with a harbinger after all; you probably make enemies every day,” you shrugged.

“Anyone would be silly to try and harm the fatui and any affiliates of the mighty tsaritsa.”

Finally, you watched him lift a dumpling to his mouth gracefully.

“You are safe under my supervision,” he finally plopped the dumpling in his mouth.

You scooped some of the rice on your plate; it did seem to be of a normal texture after all.

And then the aroma of the golden crab hit you.

It did smell divine…

Looking towards Pantalone, who was now beginning to moderately eat his serving of food, you decided to accept your fate.

Better eat and find out now if he trusted you than later.

Bitterly, you stuck the piece of golden, flaky crab into your mouth with a few scoops of rice.

It was really delicious.

Death be dammed, at least your final meal would melt in your mouth, being made from the finest caught crab in all of Teyvat.

“You know, Lián, you wouldn't have to be so weary if you remembered my offer I made the last time we met,” he smiled, holding his hands together on the fine china before him.

“Is there a deadline or something? This is the fifth time you’ve mentioned it.”

“Or do you miss me that much when we part ways?” you flirted.

“I may be weak, but I do grow lonely without you." Pantalone finger’s weaved into yours.

“It’s why I want to know if you’ll come with me tonight,” he smiled.

“Just one night, and by the time I come back, I want to know your answer.”

The pressure was weighing on your shoulders once more; it was a whole month until you’d see him again, most likely taking your new annoyances with him.

But it just seemed too convenient that he’d be dumb enough to willingly bring you back to his private quarters.

It felt like the more you tried to logic yourself into it, the more you’d come to the same conclusion.

“Of course I will,” you replied, “only if this means I’ll be your only woman.” You chuckled to yourself.

As soon as you uttered those words, however, Pantalone wasted no time enveloping you, the taste of a fine sake and the food you both had been picking at was all his lips tasted like.

His hands were on either side of your face as he kissed you passionately.

You swore Pantalone had taken you to a maximum-security prison when you both arrived into the hills of Mt. Aocang In the mountains, there was a hollow opening; the dark interior of the three-story tower he lived in was built into the mountain.

No wonder you and Yelan could never find him; he wasn’t at all near the harbor but almost on the border out of Liyue.

He didn’t let you walk up the stairs, only having you close to his chest as he walked you up the dark obsidian steps leading to the top floor.

The silence in the estate was just as uncanny as the numerous golden statues around the different corners of the spiraling staircase lined with cavern flora.

Pantalone hands were gently massaging you as you began to finally reach the landing at the top of the spiraled staircase.

Then it was just his spacious bedroom, with scrolls and so many dressers and chests lining the border of the room; the canopy bed in a dark tulle curtain of deep sapphire and violet was what caught your eye.

and is currently where he was about to lay you down.

He stopped at the edge of the bed before craning his neck to kiss you, carefully laying you in the middle of the bed. He wasted no time in ravishing you.

His hands roamed under your expensive dress, hungrily grabbing at the flesh that wasn’t covered by the lingerie he bought you.

Moaning as he began to massage your breast, he began to work his other hand under your dress skirt.

Letting yourself go as he pampered your body, you forgot who he was for a moment.

His loving touches, the care he had as he carefully slipped your dress off of your body.

You hated to admit it, but you were beginning to enjoy his attention.

#pantalone x reader #yandere pantalone #yandere genshin x reader #reader insert #yandere genshin impact #yandere x you #yandere x reader #genshin x reader

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yrluvjane · 1 year ago

Text

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒈𝒐𝒍𝒅

[old money] James x fem!reader

《 Summary - After a coincidental encounter, James takes interest in one of his employees. 》

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Who didn't know the Potters, especially when they owned everything. From banks, houses, and yachts to mansions, planes, and private islands. The family was known for its wealth and power. Almost ten generations have come since their fortune was assigned and now they’ve reached the point in being one of the richest and influential families in Europe.

And it wasn’t every day James Potter, the only living heir, walked into a diner where he would only be served greasy fries and pizza. His perfectly tailored designer clothes made him stick out like a sore thumb no matter where he sat.

Sat on a table at the far end of the room, with a relaxing book in his hands and a steaming cup of black coffee on the table; James Potter’s eyes wandered from word to word and line to line, finding peace in between the letters. His eyes would raise temporarily every time the hanging door bells jingled to check if his company had arrived.

Despite the loud noise of chatter, the diner was mostly empty, only six tables were taken. The sudden and loud laughs of a group of women disrupted his reading, and James involuntarily swung his head towards them, confusion and curiosity swirling in his eyes.

There, by the booths, sat a group of five girls all cheering loudly for their friend. James guessed that the woman they were cheering for was engaged, his eyes slightly squinted at the lady as she displayed her hand on the table for everyone to see.

It's not long before he realizes he’s not the only one looking at them; an elderly couple next to him, smiled fondly at the ladies and laughed together after a few short-whispered words.

“Mr. Potter,” He blinked, refocusing his attention on the voice. He raised his head and found himself facing a young man in a wrinkled suit and skewed slim tie who was staring at him with a disturbingly wide smile. “An honor to have you here, truly.”

“Thank you.” James responded blankly hoping to return to his book as quickly as possible without attracting unwanted attention from other diners, but it seemed as though the man did not comprehend James’ annoyance and instead decided to invite himself at James’ table.

“My name is also James,”

The Potter one sent the man a tight-lipped smile. “I own this place, it’s actually my dad’s but I managed to sway him into giving it to me. So, yeah.” At that, the man had finally stopped talking and stared at James as though he was expecting the man to hand him an award and at James awkwardly silent response, the man threw his head back and laughed loudly.

James narrowed his gaze at the man from behind his glasses and levelled him with a silent look of judgement. Though James did not speak any words his eyes expressed his feelings towards the man perfectly. And this time the man was able to clearly make out James' unpleasant impression of him. "Not a man of many words, got it.”

“I’ll leave you to it then!” The other James said hesitantly, “If you need anything, and I mean anything I am right here!” The manager stood up and winked at him as he left.

James sighed tiredly as the man’s voice faded and had finally vanished from his view. It was not that James was rude, it was the fact he did not appreciate people trying to sway him while he was having one of his very rare moments of peace.

His life has always been open to the public, from press conferences and social events to having people stalk him to his home. And though James would have seemed rude he didn’t think the twenty-something year old boy would have anything to say that was worth listening to.

James would rather have this limited time to hear his own thinking without having everyone train their eyes on him and bug him with their opinions of his every thought.

And not a few minutes later, the door swung open once more, ringing the bells and allowing a cold breeze to flow in. James’ eyes followed the jingles as he raised his cup of coffee to his lips and when his eyes trained on the silhouette he was met with a surprising feeling of familiarity.

His hold on his book loosened, and he gently put the cup back on the saucer. He leaned back on his chair and narrowed his eyes at the woman, trying to make out where he could’ve seen her. By the style and quality of her clothes, he doubted they had worked together. And even if she wore something less normal, there weren’t many acquaintances he knew that would step into anything like this diner.

He let his eyes follow the lady’s figure all the way to the celebrating group of women, all of whom started beckoning her over once they saw her. The closer she was to them the clearer she became. Under the small restaurant’s soft yellow glow, he could finally notice her blue jumper and black trousers. She waved to her friends and walked to them, a black coat hanging from her arm.

Once she took a seat, she scanned the place; freezing once she laid eyes on him. Her eyes widened, blinking owlishly, staring at him with parted lips. She recognized him, yet he still couldn't make sense of who she was. A reporter? An ex? Maybe an assistant? An employee? His mind raced with possibilities and theories trying to guess or at least sense where he’d met her.

As time passes at the speed of a turtle, he can feel the young woman’s gaze at him from afar. Every few minutes or so she turns to him as though she’s expecting something to happen; he doesn’t dare look back but he does catch her eye once. He turns to his side, slightly annoyed and faces her, staring unashamedly.

Her face of curiosity morphs into one of embarrassment, and James finds himself breaking their little contest when the door swings back open again and his friend walks in, waving at James from across the room. He shoots the girl one last look but this time, it’s her back that’s facing him.

A week later, James is sitting on a lounge chair by the pool, hoping to get some work done. The sun shone brightly above him, and despite there being cool winds breezing by, James’ clothes still stuck to his skin through a layer of sweat.

“Mr. Potter,” Anders, the Potter's head butler, calls. James faces him, scrunching his face against the sun's rays and smiles.

“Yes, Anders?”

“I have Miss Page on the phone.” He states with a sympathetic smile, handing him the black land phone. James sighed, getting up and taking the phone, he sighs one more time, this time at his assistant’s name on the small screen. “Margret?”

“James! I called six times!” She exclaims, and he can hear the distracting background noises of ringing phones, chattering and pointy heels undoubtedly belonging to the woman on the phone. ”My phone isn’t with me.” James says after shuffling some papers and looking for it. “Why? Why would you not have your phone around you at all times? I mean, what if an emergency happens? Do I have to wait for Anders to pick up the phone after four rings?”

“Marge? I’m kind of busy here, too.” He says into the phone, stretching his legs by pacing around the large pool. The sun shines on the water so brightly that James has to have on his sunglasses just to not be blinded by the reflecting sparkles of light.

“Well you should thank me. I had the meeting on Tuesday postponed to Thursday, just like you asked. Then, I have Patrick bothering me about Jackson Mills. Things are heavy James, especially now with election season so close.”

“I’ll call Jackson today—”

“Great!” She cuts him off before he can even finish his sentence.

James chuckles softly as she moves on to the next thing on her list. Margret was a wonder truly, but don't be fooled she was direct and pointed as her heels.

“You have dinner at 6:30 on Wednesday with Delilah’s parents,” and for the next few moments the line is silent, “I can always tell them you got into a car crash, if you’d like?” She suggests, her voice much clearer now as the background noises fade out. “No, no, my parents have been pestering me about this for weeks, I might as well get it over with. Marge, the report for the new expansion project is on my desk, have Carter send them to me, please.”

There's a sound of shuffling papers before Margaret's voice appears once more, "It will be with you in 30 minutes."

As she continues, James looks down at his shoes in weariness, sighing, before raising his head up once more; movements by the bushes catch his eyes. He walks over to the end at the end of the pool, where he suspects the gardeners are working, his brows furrowing as he gets closer.

And when he finally reaches the fence, his lips parted in amusement and chuckles at the scene in front of him.

“James?”

“Sorry, Marge, you were saying,” James says, barely listening. His arms are leaned over the black fence that separates the pool from the gardens. There, on the ground, sat the woman from the restaurant. Her uniform was all muddy and stained with dirt and grass, her hair was pushed up in a messy up-do that was somehow being held up with a fork.

James laughs.

“Marge, I’ll call you later.” He says, cutting her off as he ends the call and stares at the woman. At the sound of his amusement, the young lady faced him with a perplexed expression. “Mr. Potter,” She addresses, eyes wide and strands of hair falling over her face. She huffs and fails to push them back with her arm. ”I’m so sorry for bothering you.” She said, “I can leave if you’d like. I’m done anyway.”

“No, no, there’s no need to leave.” He states, his eyes focus on her uniform, a question forming in his head. “May just ask, why are you working in the gardens if you're supposed to be working in the kitchens?” He asked, and he watched her squint her eyes and shade her view with with her arm.

“Tony, the usual gardener, his daughter, got in an accident. And since I’m done with my work, l told him I could take over while he went to see her in the hospital. I do hope you don’t mind.”

“No, no. But why not just call another one of the gardeners?”

“I…didn’t think of that.” She said, biting her lips and narrowing her eyes. “Mmmh,” James hummed, “So what is it you're doing exactly?”

“Oh I’m just potting these!” She said, pointing towards a bush of pinkish flowers. “Looks great.” He commented blankly.

“Think so? I’ve never done this before.” She pointed, getting on the ground once more.

“In the end of the day it’s them being judged, not your…limited knowledge in gardening.” He said and studied the woman as she laughed. “Oh you should see the Gardenia’s they've put by the gates! They’re gorgeous!”

“Do you like Gardenia’s?” He asks and takes off his shades as the clouds begin to cage the sun. He runs his fingers through his hair, pushing back loose curls. “They are very pretty.” She notes, and James foresees the incoming 'but'.

“– But not enough to be your favorite?” He finishes and she looks at him and shakes her head smiling. “I can’t pick at all. They’re all so beautiful.”

“You seem to know a lot about flowers but so little of gardening?”

“When I was younger, my neighbor gave me a flower book. It had the names of the flowers and when they bloomed, and where they bloomed. That's all it said. ” She shares, "I didn't really have much to do as a child, so I took on reading. I enjoyed it for a while."

James squinted his eyes at her. Curiosity blooming in his chest. Taking a step back from the fence, he pointed towards his pool with his thumb. "What would you put here?" He asked.

"I'm sorry?" She asked, confused.

"The pool seems kind of bland, doesn't it? It's all plain and boring. We can do better."

"Oh," she asks and stands back up to look onto his side of the fence. James took the opportunity to clearly look at the woman as she dusted her knees and skirt of grass. She was pretty, that was quite clear. But it didn’t make that much of a difference to James; after all he’s had his share of beautiful women every now and then.

She walked forward and leaned on the fence, the smell of jasmine reaching his nose. It was a lot more welcoming and relaxing than the smell of chlorine the pool gave off.

His studied her face, her focused eyes, her bitten lips, and even the small hairs failing to be held up. "....You could go for the classics and pick some roses?"

He arched a brow at her, and she pursed her lips in response before facing the pool once more. "Angel's Trumpet?"

"Aren't they poisonous to the touch?" He asked, leaning back on the fence and giving her his most charming smile. "Right, I forgot about that." She mutters, biting the inside of her cheek, James smiles at her embarrassed expression.

She shifts from one foot to the other. James catches her fidgeting fingers and instantly feels bad for making her uncomfortable. He stands up straight as a frown takes on his face. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have put this on you. It's not your job,"

"Oh no, it's fine, really. I... Oh! What about Daylilies?" She asked. James looked at her in thought, "What flower would be on all your top favorites lists?" She tilted her head in thought, her arms falling to lean on the fence as she fixed her gaze on the pool.

"Jasmine's." She stated as she looked at him. Suddenly aware of how their elbows are touching and how small the space between them is, James's smile turned to a light smirk.

It seemed that she noticed cause soon enough she coughed and took a step back, apologizing. "It's fine." James replied. His eyes wandered over her figure one last time before putting a hand out. "James."

She stared at his hand as though she believed it might bite her. She looked at him, then his hand, and took a step forward, pushing her hand out and introducing herself. “An honor.”

“The honor is all mine.” James says, holding her hand in care as he raised it to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles. He watched her face break into a smile before she bit the inside of her cheek and faced James with a raised brow. James only smiled in return.

He wasn’t sure why but this woman had definitely caught his attention. “I should probably get going.” She said and leaned down to grab the leftover equipment and gave a hesitant wave.

“Good Bye” James said, waving back and watched as she disappeared behind the greenery of the gardens.

The next day you woke up with a striking headache and the usual urge to fall right back into bed. It took at least 10 minutes to finally convince the rest of your body that it would be for the best to get up.

And you eventually did, after having a nice warm shower to soothe your back and warm you against the coldness of your bathroom, you dressed in your everyday clothes and quickly made your way to the local farmer’s market, in hopes of getting there early.

The most distinctive smell was that of Olive oil, it filled the air and the closer you got the easier it was to make out the strong scent of spices. It was 9:15, the farmers were set up and there was a respectful amount of families and people buying fresh groceries. It didn’t take long for you to grab your things, as you’ve been coming here for years you were practically a usual so most of your orders were pre-ordered and all you had to do is pick them up.

By 10 you were outside the large black gates to the estate, a golf car awaited your arrival as to drive to the main doors, you never really understood why there was around a mile from the gates to the Manor. “Thanks, Robert!” You said, grabbing the bags and running up the steps to the front doors of the service enterance. Anders swung the door open just as you reached the last step.

“Morning, Anders.” You greeted me with a smile.

“Good Morning, Miss —” He was cut off with four men entering the large foyer. You trailed your eyes over their uniform, a dirt-stained grey jumpsuit with a green flower logo on their chest. ‘Gardens?’ You mouthed at the older man, he nodded back. “Yes, Mr. Fretman, if you will follow me, please.”

You snickered at Anders' tone of exasperation as he guided the men out. You managed to side-stepped all the priceless furniture that was in your way to the kitchens and it was no easy task. It was more like an obstacle course, especially with your sense of sight being blocked off by overly filled brown paper bags.

Potter Estate was the definition of over the top.

The Manor consisted of 16 guestrooms, 24 bathrooms, 2 kitchens, an indoor pool, an indoor sauna and jacuzzi, a music room, 2 library’s, the theatre room, a sewing room, 4 offices, a wine cellar and an attic, with lord knows what in it.

The outside was even grander, there was the stables, the shooting range, the lake yards of grass and fancy gardens, the greenhouse (Which no one really sat in except Mrs. Potter whenever she visited), the outdoor pool, the garage and lastly the old stable house (Which, according to Anders, was turned into a "bat cave" by Mr. Potter Sr. for his son and his friends when they were younger.)

You made your way to the end of the west wing, pushing the large oak door open with your feet and sliding in. The evident silence came as a surprise, you would’ve expected to hear shouting, yelling, arguing, the sounds of slamming cupboards and chopping knives, something. But it was completely silent.

You placed the paper bags on the large kitchen island, which was three times the size of your bed and began sorting the fruits, vegetables and cheeses into the fridge and anything else in a cupboard. Once done, you threw the brown bags into a trash bin before washing your hands.

Your mind wandered away, wondering what might have happened to the rest of the crew. You huffed and wondered if you should look for them or not. Maybe they all got sick? But they were all fine yesterday. They were called somewhere else? Anders would have told you to join them. You took a look around and pushed your hair back with a headband and slipped on a hair net. You took one hesitant look around hoping someone would walk in but after a long and silent minute of you leaning on the marble table, gazing at the overly decorated door, you turned your gaze away from the entrance.

You shuffled from one cupboard, pulling all sorts of ingredients; flour, egg, sugar, vanilla , everything you needed to make a batch of cinnamon buns. And in a few moments you had already begun the first step, humming as you kneaded the dough, gently folding it between your hands and letting it rest for a while after you had declared it ready. You moved to preset the oven and a small red bulb lit up as you twisted the knob, signaling it was on.

You yawned and your vision blurred as your eyes teared up from sleepiness, you really needed to get a better sleep schedule. Brushing the tears away with your arms, you pushed yourself up, putting aside your weariness and walked back to your cooking station.

It was almost half an hour later, when the doors to the kitchen swung open and you smiled up at Anders as he walked over to you. You were practically done, he had walked in on you smearing the icing on the buns. “They’re fresh out of the oven! Try one!” You offered, cutting him a piece and plating it. “Here, you can top it with whatever you like.” You pointed towards the spread of different sauces and toppings on the table.

“Thank you very much, Miss L/n. And I do appreciate this but sadly I did not come here by my own means.” He says with a soft smile and you unconsciously wipe your hand on a cloth before facing the man with confusion. “Has something happened? Is that why everyone is absent? Does it have something to do with Tony’s daughter? Is she—”

“No, no, no. Mr. Willfard’s daughter is being treated for a broken arm and bruised sides, it’s been confirmed that she will make a full recovery.” He says and you smile gratefully, the worry inside of you lessening, still there but much more eased.

“And about the others, they were given a day off by Mr Potter.” He says and you freeze on the spot. “Oh.”

“Yes, ‘oh.’ and since we are on the topic. Mr. Potter has sent me to inform you that he is expecting you by the pool.”

Your eyes widened and so did your mouth, silent movements of your lips were targeted at Anders out of shock. “Mr. Potter, Mr. Potter? As in James Potter?”

“Are you acquainted with any other ‘James Potter’s?”

“No.” You answered hastily as you your mind racked to why he would want to speak with you and at the top of your head, and like a blaring siren, yesterday’s events shone. “Was he happy when he asked you to call me? Did he ask it in a ‘I just want to talk’ way or more of a ‘I’m going to fire you’ tone.” You asked and you instantly felt smaller under the blank and unimpressed expression Anders gave you.

“If you will follow me – What are you doing?” Anders asks, his brows furrowing and lips frowning. “Plating these! They must be served warm or else they’re not as delicious.” You whisper, rushing around just as quick the thoughts in your head.

He sighs and leans his hands on the table, watching as you took your time to gently pick each roll and delicately place them on a large plate.

Once you're done you move the dirty trays to the sink and wonder if you could buy yourself some time as you scrubbed the pans and dishes.

“Leave those and follow me. I’ll assign someone to do them later.” Anders says and you can’t help but butt in, “But everyone took the day off! Except me.” You mutter the last part in a harsh whisper and sigh, accepting defeat. You grabbed one of the pastry-filled tray and angrily hand it to the butler before grabbing the others.

It almost feels like forever as you followed Anders, your fingers were nervously tapping the silver platter. You took deep breaths and purposely slowed your pace. Anders didn’t even bother to look at you as he led you. You looked around you trying to make out where he’s taking you too. It came as a surprise when you had passed James' office but now you were completely out of the Manor.

“Anders, where are we going?” You asked, Anders didn’t turn to you but did slow down. “To the pool grounds.”

He was going to fire you. You admitted mentally. Should've kept your mouth shut! It is a known, unspoken rule that you should never share your opinions with rich people.

You should treat them like kids, don’t talk to them, don’t get in their squabbles and don’t tell them the truth cause it will make them pissed and emotional and then you will be forced to deal with their tantrums.

However you completely ignored that rule yesterday, when you shared your opinions with Potter of all people. Before you even reach the pool, you hear loud noises and shouts coming from its direction. One very distinctive voice was that of James Potter.

“Miss L/n.” Anders addressed and motioned for you to step ahead of him. You sighed and masked your face before climbing the short stair in quick steps.

The first person you were met with was James. He stood towering over a large group of men that were scattered across the pool yard. James’ is dressed in similar attire to yesterday’s clothing and you almost smile back when he turns to you with a grin. “Mr. Potter.” You greet with a strained tone, placing the tray of buns on a nearby table with harsh clack.

“Oh, how lovely. Anders, please pass them to the workers, will you? And please call me James. How’ve you been?” He asks, still smiling and you're not so sure of what to make of the man.

Anders agrees in his usual formal tone and you watch him with the corner of your eye as he picks up your tray and walks down over to the working men.

“I’m fine?” You reply hesitantly and thankfully he doesn’t notice your questioning tone.

“Well I’m glad. I’m sorry to strip you of your day off, I assure you, you can have tomorrow for yourself.”

Your brows furrowed as you stared at the man, you're quite confused and to add to it you almost feel ridiculous while speaking to him with his sunglasses on. “Take off the shades.” You order in a blank tone and you see James’ posture change as he takes a step back and pulls the accessory off. Before he can get the chance to speak, you cut in, “Are you going to fire me?” You ask, the smile completely wiped off your face. You narrow your eyes at the man and watch as he speaks to you in genuine surprise. “Why would I fire you?”

“Then why am I here?” You asked, your confidence slipping. “I’m not here to fire you,” he laughs, “I just wanted to show you this,” He explains motioning towards the pool. “...I’ve seen the pool before.” You say, this time your confusion is clearly plastered on your face. “I mean this.” He says and he guides to the side of the pool, where three men are potting some Jasmine’s. “You picked Jasmine’s?”

“You said it was one of your favorites, right?” He asked, and you faced him with a look of surprise. “You picked Jasmine’s cause they were one of my favorites?” The older man blushed and he faced you with wide eyes, “No! Yes, but not directly, I just picked them because I guessed they’d have to have been really nice flowers if they were on your favorites list.”

“Okay.” You said, still confused but you sighed and brushed it all away. James watched your face soften as you took a step closer to them. “They are beautiful, aren’t they?” You ask, your eyes trained on the small, delicate, white petals of the flower. “Yeah…and they smell nice too.” You laugh, turning to face him as you lightly throw your head back. “Yeah, that too.” You agree watching a soft smile adorn his face.

“Here,” James says as he walks over behind a table, you watch lean down to grab something and your lips part in awe as he walks over to you with a pot of Jasmine’s. “Mr. Potter, I–” You’re in shock and happiness. They’re is a small sickening feeling in your stomach and you do your best to try and avoid it.

“A thank you,” He says. “And as I said earlier, it’s just James.”

《 NEXT PART 》

Tagging: @sssstarstruck @cloudroomblog @ietss

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marymary-diva17 · 5 months ago

Text

starting a new life (3)

bridgerton x reader

Scandal and gossip had been used a weapon to destroyer ones, self reputation among society. it seems like the once weapon that had been used against someone, had become their resource to start over again. Now will come the return of those who had left behind London ton society, for something brand new and good as well.

Y/n " ......." You are walking around the house that once belong to your husband uncle and aunt, that now become your guys home. The pair had arrived early at dawn and right away, the staff got ready to place everything in the house.

Tristan " so how are you loving the home we have here"

y/n " I love it far enough from Bridgerton and your family home the smiths so we are good"

Tristan " Well you are y/n smiths on paper"

y/n " you jest me my husband" Tristian soon kissed your hand as the pair soon walked into their home.

y/n " well it seems like everything has been settled now I will need to, sent word out to my sister and lady Danbury"

Tristan " I know you will do well my love and your deserve to see your sister, after being apart from her for so long"

y/n " I can't wait to see her and my other younger siblings I have missed them so"

Tristan " well now that we are here the ton better get prepped to see the new Viscount Tristan and Viscountess y/n"

y/n " you are going to do well my husband in this world among all the other males of the ton, I know it as your wife and friend"

Tristan " thank you my wife" you had sent out word to lady danbury and your sister of your official retune back to London, knowing no one else will see or read the letter to them.

Tristan " I will be going out my love there are some stuff I need to handle at the bank"

y/n " are you sure about this will it be fine going out right now"

Tristian " I'm dressed as Younger version of my uncle if no one can, tell it me then we are good and also it very sad as well"

y/n " okay but return home for dinner no clubs or pubs right now, I'm understood"

Tristan " yes my love and I had brought all my favorite wines here with me, so I'm good" you laugh as Tristan soon put his hat on and soon left the home, even due he was a viscount he still had time to have fun.

y/n " please get some hot water ready for a afternoon tea"

maid " yes ma'am anything else"

y/n " please prepare some deserts as well"

maid 2 " yes ma'am we will tell the kitchen staff that we will also have the window open, as well for the tea"

y/n " thank you"

butler " I will have all staff unload your and the viscount stuff into the room, they had been assigned"

y/n " thank you it good to be here and lady of the house" the stuff had nodded their heads and soon went to work, you are in the drawing room.

footman " ma'am our guest have arrived the honorable lady danbury" lady danbury soon walked into the room giving you a bright smile, as you had looked at her.

lady danbury " hello my dear"

y/n " lady danbury" you had curtsy towards lady Danbury as she had smiled at you.

lady danbury " viscount y/n I'm right" both women soon laugh as you had soon walked towards lady danbury and hugged her, happy to see her.

lady danbury " my dear you look so beautiful since the last time I saw you, and it seems like you have been doing well to"

y/n " yes life in Scotland has been good come have a eat tea and deserts will be served soon"

lady danbury " it good to have you and Tristan back home, the ton has been in drama filled since the last column of lady whistle down"

y/n " yes I and Tristian had gotten one sent to our home it was very interesting"

Lady danbury " I have spoken with the queen and she excited about, the new viscount and viscountess of smiths of Scotland she has approved of it"

y/n " that good news to hear"

footman " my lady your last guest has arrived lady Eloise" soon elosie came into the drawing room, she smiled upon seeing her sister again. The pair of sister soon hugged each other as it has been so long.

elosie " dear sister I have missed your dearly but I'm happy you are here in London"

Y/n " I'm happy to be here as well come have a sit there, much need to talk about"

Eloise " oh yes" Eloise had sat down next to you as afternoon tea party had began.

Eloise " so it seems like lady whistle down is a fan of you and your husband"

y/n " yes it seems like that or she might of used her words to speak the truth, on matter that was built on false scandal"

Eloise " you should of been here when the paper boys were handing out the columns that day, right now all the ton had gone a buzz with gossip"

y/n " well I had a feeling that was the truth the ton in Scotland had read, the article and had some choose or words towards the families"

Lady danbury " it has taken two years for anyone to finally notice you hadn't been seen all mostly everyone"

y/n "yes some of my staff told me there is a rumor that Tristin joined army and left London for good, that he now living in Spain on winery"

Eloise " that sounds like something he would do"

y/n ' oh yes it does"

Eloise " you and him look very happy together by that portrait over there" the three women soon looked over at the portrait to of the couple.

y/n " we are happy together"

lady danbury " so will it be expect to have any little ones running around here or Scotland anytime soon"

y/n " we have been trying but not right now"

lady danbury " it will happen in time and I know you will make a great mother and Tristan a good father"

y/n " thank you speaking of families how are the Bridgertons"

Eloise " the family has it good days and bad days right now after the column everything seems, Francesca had debut last years ... she was sadden to hear you will not be there hyacinth and Georgy are doing good"

y/n " it makes me happy to hear our younger siblings are doing well, I fear for them"

Eloise " now onto our older siblings Benedict is still unmarried but has been having relationships with this one women, who is window Colin seems gaining all the ladies attention but no wife yet ... Antony and Kate marriage is not doing so well and same for Daphne and Simon as well"

y/n " umm it seems like I have missed a lot in the two years I have been gone"

Eloise " you have some wonderful stuff in here are all of these from Scotland"

y/n " well yes most of them are from Scotland there is also France,spain,and Greece along with other places"

Eloise " I wish to have the life you have sister seeing the world and away from ton of London"

y/n " well I was hoping to bring this up later on but I will like to offer you a stay in Scotland with I and Tristan, we have talked about it and we will love to have you there with us we have enough room at our manor"

Eloise " are you sure"

y/n " yes"

Eloise " then yes I will love to come with you back to Scotland life here has become harsh, and right now I will love a change in environment ... see more of the world like our brothers and all the other males of society"

y/n " then come with me and see life away from London, live the life you wish verse what our family wants right now ... if you wish to marry then marry"

Lady danbury " may you have become a good speaker since the last time, I have seen you my dear"

y/n " well being away for so long has changed myself"

Tristan " good afternoon ladies"

lady Danbury " may Tristan for a moment there I thought I was looking at your uncle, until I got a closer look at you viscount"

Tristan " hello lady danbury it good to see you and hello El"

Eloise " hello Tristian my brother you and my sister have been missed" Eloise soon hugged Tristan and got a hug back soon Tristian and joined the three women, in the drawing room.

Tristian " well my wife we have nothing to worry about as, it seems like none of the ton has official know we are back in London"

y/n " umm that will make our stay here interesting after all"

lady danbury " why don't we make it more special I will be having a ball tomorrow night all of the ton, has been invited along with royalty ... it will be good to have a visit from the viscount and viscount from Scotland"

Tristian " I will love that what do you have to say about the my wife"

Y/n " I have missed your balls truly lady danbury so yes we will be there, and I have packed growns for balls just in case"

Eloise " it seems like I and have pen have something else to look forward to, for the ball tomorrow night and maybe when you are here we can get new dress for you madam delocroix will enjoy make new dress for my sister the viscountess"

y/n " I will have to set up an appointment with her"

lady Danbury " you are sounding like a viscountess of London already"

Tristian " you think this is special you haven't seen her actions, when we are in Scotland always standing up for a cause along with listen to other needs as well"

Y/n " I do my best and Tristan does his work as well"

Eloise " such a wonderful powerful duo standing together no matter what"

lady danbury " I always knew the two of you will make a wonderful and beautiful couple, lets hope children are not far behind I will love to meet them" laugher had soon been heard in the drawing room, the tea had ended well. Eloise had said she will come by again she might try to bring Penelope with her.

The night of the ball

Y/n " ......" you are sitting in the carriage with Tristan as the both of you are heading towards, lady danbury house for the evening ball. That had been talked about no stop by everyone. Everyone was hoping the lady danbury ball will bring good fortune to their families, and blessed marriage as well.

Tristain " you look beautiful tonight my wife like every other night"

y/n " thank you my husband and you are very handsome as always" the carriage soon stopped as the footman soon opened the door, Tristan soon got out and soon helped you out.

Tristan " we have arrived"

y/n " yes now lets enjoy this night" the couple soon made their way to the ballroom where the event was being held.

speaker " you two most be the guest that lady danbury have told us about"

Tristian " yes Viscount Tristian and my wife Viscountess Y/n"

speaker " yes my lord we can make that happen" soon the door of the ballroom had open.

speaker " honorable guest of lady Danbury Tristan and y/n " evyeone soon turned around after hearing towards names and soon, looked amazed to see you and Tristan. As the couple soon made their way down the stairs to dane floor. The coupe had bowed and curtsy towards the host and the queen.

Lady Danbury " start the music and enjoy the ball"

?????? " sister" you soon looked to see Eloise and Penelope making their way towards you.

y/n " hello El and pen you look so beautiful green colors suit you perfectly"

Penelope " thank you y/n"

Tristan " I will be back my dear wife I will go fresh my self a drink I will need one tonight"

elosie and Penelope " hello Tristan" Tristian soon walked away leaving you with your sister and Penelope.

Penelope " I happy to see you are back in London it made me sad you had to leave"

y/n " it good to be home Penelope I have missed my siblings and you as well, during my time away"

Elosie " it seems like you have supirsed the ton my sister, and seeing that the queen nodded her head she had approved of you both being here"

y/n " yes it those" The tiro had moved to the sidelines to stay out of the way, and to talk freely as well.

????? " sister" you soon looked to see Francesca standing there she smiled towards you.

y/n " hello Francesca you look beautiful as well along with Eloise and Penelope"

Francesca " thank you I have missed you"

y/n " I have missed you as well"

????? " y/n" you soon looked to see your mothers, siblings, and siblings spouse standing there.

Y/n " good evening Viscount Bridgerton and Duke hasting ... Viscountess's Bridgeton and Duchess Hasting.... Lady Bridgerton and lords Bridgerton"

Violet " dearest you are finally home after so long"

y/n " yes I'm lady Violet after being gone for so long"

Daphne " sister no need for these title as are family after all"

y/n " there is very much need for these titles duchess"

Kate " y/n welcome home we should have a dinner to celebrate your return"

y/n " that sounds good viscountess"

Simon " we knew nothing for your return"

y/n " well duke we had received our lady whistle down and she had spoke, some words that had made us wish to return"

Colin " you mean you and Tristian came together"

y/n " yes we did"

Colin " now you are going to tell me you had married him"

Eloise " no you fool she still unmarried after all these years, and Tristian is just acting like a husband to her for fun"

Violet " dearest you are married"

y/n " yes I'm for two years now"

Penelope " so are they any young children running around you home"

Francesca " oh yes do we have an nephew or niece"

y/n " no there no children yet but we hope soon when the time right"

Antony " I will have a word with Tristan as he didn't ask me for your hands in marriage, and when did this happen anyways were they witness to this whole scene"

Lady Danbury " yes I was one of them they married in my home that next day, a beautiful wedding”

violet " lady danbury you knew of this"

lady Danbury " yes I did and she didn't need viscount approval as she was disowned if we all remember"

Antony " sister does he treat you right"

Tristian " I treat her like she is my star and moon viscount Bridgerton” Tristran soon showed himself towards the group.

Tristan “ good evening everyone it great to see you all again, after so long of being apart”

Benedict “ so the news is true the two of you are married couple, making you our brother”

Tristan “ yes I married your sister but last time it remember, half of you here had disowned her and she hasn’t yet to be presented a beidgerton again”

y/n “ husband”

Tristian “ sorry my dear wife I should of minded my words”

Violet “ no fighting tonight as we celebrate the return of your sister and her husband”

Violet “ you two have been in countryside together, maybe we can have you all back here with us for good”

colin “ so anything else you both will love to share with us”

violet “Colin that can wait we need to talk about another wedding we can invited members of ton, it will good and represent our families as well”

Antony “ I’m most agree maybe this time Tristan can ask for my sister hand in marriage”

Eloise “ oh brother don’t be a fool and ruin the night she already married you, can’t annul that marriage to make you feel better”

Antony “ those the Queen know of this matter”

lady danbury " yes she dose know if this and had encouraged the relationship, she really loves your family dearly"

lady danbury “ They didn't only come back married they came back with titles as well viscount and viscountess"

Antony “ wait Tristan can’t be a viscount he a fourth son"

Tristian “ that is here viscount bidgerton but not in Scotland after my uncle and aunt passed, away I was made their heir”

y/n “ we did send word but never got a reply viscountess”

Tristan " well that example everyone so uncle had left his title and lands to me, after I become his heir and now viscount of the lands there... he left some inheritance for my brothers"

Benedict " then shouldn't ti go to your brothers"

Tristian " it would of gone to them but I was disowned by family as well, so my uncle had all rights to hand it over to me"

Colin " then are you both still smiths"

y/n " we are smith and Reids as uncle did take on aunt last name, after they were wed"

James " were you there for my brother and his wife during thier last moments"

y/n " yes we were and they passed away in their sleep peaceful, they had been there for us during our two years married"

Violet " you are wonderful dearest and I'm happy to have Tristan as my son"

Daphen " yes it good to see our family had expanded will you both, been staying in London for good now"

Y/n " no we will be retuning to Scotland"

Violet " my dear that to far away you should be here with family and friends, when you and Tristan have children of your own I will love to meet my grandchildren"

Benedict "It will be good to have more kids in our family" you wished to say some other words towards Benedict right now, but you were going to save that for later on or in private. Soon some music had started playing getting everyone attention.

Tristan " my dear wife care for a dance with me"

y/n " it will be an honor" Tristian had finished off his drink before he placed it on a tray of staff, as the two soon went to the dance floor. The pair looked so beautiful on the dance floor. The rest of the ball had went well as the couple was getting ready to leave.

Antony " sister before you leave we most agree to have a meeting together, so can find out a way to deal with the lady whistle down article and your news about marriage as well"

Tristian " viscount Bridgerton it best if we drop this topic as it been a long night, and I wish for my wife to not be uncomfortable"

Antony " Tristan we are friends why call me viscount"

Tristian " it been a long night w will be leaving"

y/n " goodbye Bridgerton and Hastings we will see each other again take care" you and Tristian soon left the Danbury mansion and headed back home, but not before you gave one last wave towards your younger sisters and Penelope.

Tristan " we are racing our kids in Scotland still my love"

y/n "yes that our plan and we are sticking with it no matter, as we have seen the ton will do anything to destroy the image of anyone I rather not that have to my kids"

Tristian " agree I told the driver to take another route so you family doesn't have anyone follow us, and we are also lucky that none of them know where we will be staying"

y/n " good and if they come by the home we will treat them like any other guest, with respect and honor"

Tristian " your brothers should take Benedict words to heart, as only one married and others are nots still no children"

y/n " That something we can debate all day my love I hope you get use to having Eloise, Francesca, and Penelope over"

Tristian " it will be good to have them over and I think I might know some lords back in Scotland that will be perfect for them" you smiled at your husband and soon kissed him. It seems like their start of being back in London was going well after all, as everyone had seen the couple had changed over the years of being away.

#colin bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton netflix #penelope bridgerton #bridgerton x sister!reader #bridgerton reader #eloise bridgerton #antony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton sister reader #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x sister reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x female reader #violet bridgerton #lady danbury #daphne bridgerton #francesca bridgerton

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copperbadge · 11 months ago

Note

Hey Sam, I remember reading a post or response from you about how to give to charities anonymously, but now that I’m searching, I’m finding a few different responses but still have questions. Any chance you could do a round up post? Wondering about the following:

1. How to give cash

2. How to give small amounts anonymously (e.g., if you can’t set up a DAF)

3. How to opt out of being sent branded junk if you can’t give anonymously, because it will end up in the garbage (seriously, no more pens, stickers or magnets please)

4. In giving anonymously, how important is the tax receipt? I only take the standard deduction on my taxes… is there a reason to bother with tracking the receipts?

Appreciate your help!

Ah yeah, it's rough knowing how to do some of these things. I've written about some of them, probably most of them, but disparately over several posts, so let me see if I can answer succinctly and all in one place.

How to give cash: You are pretty much confined to two options, giving cash to a staffer in person or mailing cash in an envelope. If you have access to the office of the nonprofit you may be able to swing by and drop the cash off, but it's not super convenient and often not possible. If you're at an event you can hand it in an envelope to a staffer, and that's really the only way my organization gets cash donations, but that requires you to be at the event. And technically I can't recommend mailing cash since the risk of theft is a real one. Giving cash is fine legally, but nonprofits often aren't thrilled with it because it can put their staff at risk and also there's, well, there's no way to track that donation to a person. But yeah, throw them dollars between two thick sheets of paper and mail that in with a note saying "This is for the XYZ organization" so they know they can accept it.

2. Giving small amounts anonymously: It depends on how you're defining 'small'; I have a DAF (for the readers: a Donor Advised Fund -- I talk a little about them here but I've never gone indepth) which has no minimum deposit or minimum monthly contribution, but they do have a minimum donation amount of $20. To me that's not especially large, but I know to many people it can be. Pretty much the only way to give an amount smaller than $20 anonymously is to give online through the nonprofit's website using a cash giftcard (like a Visa gift debit card), and just not give an address. If you custom-order checks you can sometimes order checks without a home address, or with the bank's address, and pay with one of those, but I've never tried that.

If you do use a DAF (and I can recommend Charityvest, they've been mine for several years now) you can always set up to pay small amounts into it and just have them send all that money in a lump sum once or twice a year. I pay in $75/mo and from that they pay out three $20 donations a month, and at the end of the year the extra $180 that has just sat there becomes a nice extra donation. Always bearing in mind of course that once you pay into a DAF that money is gone, you can't claw it back even if you haven't "donated" it yet -- just putting money in a DAF is considered a donation. Readers, if you're curious about DAFs I recommend googling, lots of banks have "what is a DAF" pages, but if you're not finding what you want to know do feel free to come ask me.

3. Opting out of swag when not giving anonymously: I'm tempted to just say "Ya can't" because it's hard, especially with larger orgs. Even if you opt out, often you'll still get mailings that are considered "stewardship" (maintaining a relationship) rather than "solicitation" (asking for giving) and swag counts as stewardship. You can always start with sending the org a letter saying "Please put me on a Do Not Contact list, I will continue to give but don't want to get your swag". If that doesn't work, start returning mailings -- if you get something from the org don't even open it, just write "return to sender -- no longer resident" and drop it in the mail. This is not guaranteed effective; some places will either just change the name to 'resident' or retry every so often just in case. You can call the org and ask to speak to "records" or "data", and then just be super up front: "I want to keep supporting you but I really don't want the swag, how do I get that turned off?" They can help, but if you give to another similar org, a lot of times orgs will do "list exchanges" where they swap mailing lists, and if the org does that and you're on the other org's list, you get put right back on the "ok to mail" list for the first org.

I will say, swag is very, very cheap and gets results, so you can also look at this as "well, it was wasted on me, but the five cents this pen cost will get them $1 from someone, so in accepting it, I am still helping them to gain donations." This depends on your tolerance for waste, of course, which I'll talk more about in a minute.

(I personally like getting magnets, because I put stickers over top of whatever's printed on the magnet, cut it out to the shape of the sticker, and behold! I have a cool magnet!)

4. Tax receipting: I'm not a CPA or a tax lawyer and I fucked this up the last time I talked about it, so take this with a grain of salt, but there is an "above and beyond" deduction -- after the standard deduction I believe you can deduct an additional up-to-$300 for charitable giving, and if you were to be audited you'd need receipts to prove that. (As I said, if you're planning on this, fact-check first, I am not a strong source for this information.) (Edited to add: comments informed me this is no longer the case, so I'm glad I added in the disclaimer :D) If you give via a DAF, no problem; the DAF tracks where and when and how much you gave, so I could use my DAF's records as "receipts". You can also, if you lost or didn't get a receipt, contact the org and ask them for your giving record for the year. Here's the problem -- if you are giving in a way that allows you to avoid giving your address, there may be no way to get those receipts, since you can't prove their record with your name on it is you. So if you want receipts but want to give semi-anonymously definitely make sure they have your email address. If you're giving $300 a year, you probably want to take that deduction; if you're giving $20 a year, probably it isn't worth it. But yeah, to get a receipt you generally have to give them enough information for them to identify you, but you don't need giving receipts if all you take is the standard deduction.

All in all, the options are -- give cash and get no receipt, give via DAF or using a giftcard and get receipts to your email, give with your address attached and just hope they honor your request to be removed from swag mailing, or give however you want, put up with the swag, and bear in mind that them sending you the pen or magnet or keychain wasn't much of a problem or cost for them and will get them money from someone.

Honestly, option four isn't the least irritating, but it's probably the least labor-intensive for you. But it really is a question of what you want from your relationship to the nonprofits you support, and how passionately you feel about the "waste" status of swag they send. Only you can determine where your tolerance point is between "having to put in so much effort not to get this stuff" and "having to throw this stuff in a landfill". It's a regrettable part of being a donor and building a relationship with a nonprofit, but we in the nonprofit field do appreciate your giving and your tolerance :) While there are some outlier bad-actors in the space, trust me, for most nonprofits, nothing we do is gratuitous. Almost all of us are on such a thin wire that if something costs us money and doesn't get us more money, it gets binned very quickly.

#nonprofits #charitable giving #donation

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elikajinnie · 9 months ago

Text

Young Love | Park Seonghwa X reader

a/n: This was posted on ao3, but now its here as well!

Genre: Fluff, minor angst, romance

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

In the vibrant world of K-pop, I found myself as an ardent fan of many Korean Pop bands. But none of them could ever beat Ateez, with their visual, stage presence, and amazing songs that had stolen my heart with their infectious music. My room was adorned with posters of them, and every song, every dance move was etched into my soul. But my admiration went beyond mere fandom – it was something deeper, something that resonated in the core of my being.

Being a dedicated student, if you could call it that, I was constantly running on caffeine and energy bars, trying to finish my work for the day. My eyelids were dropping, and the words on my textbook were blurring into a spiral of letters. "Ah, I can't do this," I thought, not hesitating to grab my phone. To my surprise, multiple notifications from my friends lit up the screen. "They have been talking for a while…" I unlocked my phone and opened the group chat.

"Amanda has sent a link."

Amanda: "ATEEZ IS COMING TO OUR TOWN, GUYS."

Soojin: "Wait, really?"

Athena: "OMG! IT'S REAL!"

Amanda: "@Y/N WAKE UP."

78+ unread messages.

I clutched my phone tightly, feeling like my whole world collapsed as I read my friends' chat. "They are coming… here? I can see them?" With shaky hands, I typed in a message.

Y/n: "We have to buy tickets."

Soojin: "YEAH, NO SHIT. LET'S GET VIP, GUYS."

Athena: "Isn't that too expensive?"

Soojin: "NOTHING IS TOO EXPENSIVE FOR THE NAME OF LOVE! RIGHT Y/N!?"

I groaned at Soojin's antics. "Name of love… yeah, more like me being delusional," I thought.

Y/n: "Very funny."

Amanda: "Come on Y/n, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

Soojin: "I AM CURRENTLY IN THE QUEUE, GUYS."

Athena: "You are seriously buying VIP tickets??!"

Soojin: "YES!"

I let out a sigh before putting my phone down and going on my computer to open the ticket sale. Seeing the VIP ticket's price, I cringed internally, feeling sorry for my bank account. I clicked on it, hoping the purchase would go through.

Amanda: "I GOT THE TICKETS."

Soojin: "TICKETS ARE SECURED! I GOT ONE EXTRA FOR YOU TOO, ATHENA, SO YOU HAVE TO COME!"

Athena: "Damn it. Fine. Thank you, Soojin."

Soojin: "You're welcome!"

Soojin: "Now you owe me."

Athena: "….fine."

Amanda: "Did you get yours, Y/n???"

Soojin: "????"

Athena: "Yeah, did you?"

I stared at the screen of my computer, unblinking as the words washed over me.

CONGRATS Y/N. YOU HAVE SUCCESSFULLY BOUGHT VIP TICKETS FOR ATEEZ. WE CAN'T WAIT TO SEE YOU THERE.

I glanced at my phone and tried to type in my answer with a few mistakes.

Y/n: "I got mine."

I turned off my phone and put it down, my whole body vibrating in excitement. "I'm seeing them.. I'm finally seeing them."

As the concert day drew closer, my heart raced with anticipation. I carefully selected my outfit, aiming for a perfect blend of style and allure. I wanted to exude confidence when I finally stood in front of the group that had captured my heart. My friends arrived, and we embarked on the journey to the concert, blasting Ateez's songs along the way, our excitement filling the car.

When we arrived at the venue, the sight of the long queue and the bustling crowd took my breath away. The realization that I was about to see Ateez up close made my heart flutter with a mix of nerves and exhilaration. Hours seemed to pass like minutes as we stood in line, chatting excitedly about what the night might hold.

Finally, the moment arrived. The doors opened, and the crowd surged inside. My friends and I found ourselves swept up in the sea of fans, our hearts pounding in unison with the music that echoed through the arena. The energy was electric, the anticipation palpable. "So many Atinys.. it's amazing," I thought as I was pulled along by Amanda towards the barricade, chatting with other Atiny's.

The minutes ticked by as the lights dimmed and the performance started, screams of girls and boys around resonating as screams were heard throughout the giant stage and halls. My heart skipped a beat. This was it. There they were, the idols I had admired from afar, now dancing and singing just a few feet away. My eyes darted from member to member, each one shining in their unique way. And then, my gaze locked onto him – Park Seonghwa, the one who had captured my heart from the very beginning.

I looked around and saw the immense energy resonating from the fans and started matching their energy, shaking my lightstick in rhythm to the music. My eyes closed for a minute, feeling the song. When I opened my eyes, I met the gaze of him.

Their eyes met, and in that instant, time seemed to stand still. It was as if the world faded away, leaving only Seonghwa and me in a shared moment of connection. I could feel his energy, his passion, radiating from the stage and intertwining with my own. For those fleeting seconds, it was as if we were the only two people in the universe.

But as quickly as it had begun, the gaze broke. Seonghwa had to continue his performance, his moves seamless and his voice captivating. I watched with a mix of awe and admiration, my heart still racing from our brief, intense connection. The music swelled, the lights danced, and the concert carried on, but for me, those few seconds of eye contact with Seonghwa remained etched in my memory.

The night soared by, a whirlwind of music and emotion. As the final notes of the last song echoed through the arena, I felt a bittersweet ache in my chest. The concert was over, and reality was settling in. But I knew that the night was still young.

As the lights came up and the crowd began to disperse, my friends and I exchanged excited whispers and shared smiles.

After the exhilarating concert had concluded, my friends and I found ourselves waiting anxiously in a designated area, eagerly anticipating our meeting with Ateez. The moments of anticipation seemed to stretch endlessly, but as the queue gradually lessened, my nerves started to lighten. I exchanged excited glances with my friends, our shared enthusiasm fueling our excitement.

Finally, my turn arrived to meet the members of Ateez. My heart raced as I stepped onto the podium, the space filled with the vibrant energy of my idols.

As I made my way down the line, I felt my pulse quicken when I came face to face with Kim Hongjoong. He exuded charisma and kindness, putting me at ease with his warm smile. Our conversation flowed effortlessly

, and I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for this opportunity.

Each member greeted me warmly, and I managed to have genuine conversations with all of them, laughing and sharing stories as if we were old friends. It was surreal – a dream come true that surpassed all my expectations.

But what truly caught me off guard was when I reached Seonghwa. The moment our eyes met, it was like time had folded, and we were back in that shared gaze from the concert. The connection between us was undeniable, a magnetic pull that transcended the chaos of the room around us. We spoke, our words weaving a tapestry of shared interests and laughter, as if we had known each other for years.

Throughout our conversation, I noticed that Seonghwa's eyes held an intensity that seemed to match my own feelings. It was as if he was as captivated by my presence as I was by his. Our hearts communicated through unspoken glances and shared smiles, creating a bubble of intimacy within the bustling room.

Just as I was about to leave, I felt a gentle touch on my hand. Looking down, I saw a piece of paper discreetly handed to me by Seonghwa. My heart skipped a beat as I took it, my fingers brushing against his for a fleeting moment. I discreetly pocketed the paper, the anticipation of what it held only adding to my excitement.

I waited for my friends to be done before excusing myself to the bathroom, ignoring their snickers.

I quickly located the bathroom and locked the door before pulling the paper from my pocket, carefully unfolding it, my heart racing as I read the message.

Seonghwa had written a simple yet powerful request – to meet him at the stage once everyone had left. My breath caught in my throat, and a mix of nerves and exhilaration surged through me. Without hesitation, I discreetly made my way to the stage, the shadows of the night concealing my movements.

As I reached the stage, I saw Seonghwa waiting for me, a soft smile on his lips. He gestured for me to follow, and we walked together in silence until we reached a small, secluded room. The air was charged with a mix of emotions – anticipation, nervousness, and an undeniable attraction.

Seonghwa motioned for me to sit, and as we settled into the quiet space, the world seemed to fall away. Our conversation flowed effortlessly, unburdened by the expectations of the outside world. We shared our dreams, our passions, our vulnerabilities, and with each passing moment, I felt myself falling deeper in love with the person I had admired from afar.

Our eyes locked once again, and with the heart eyes we exchanged, it spoke volumes. It was as if we were the only two people in existence, our connection forming an unbreakable bond. Seonghwa's hand brushed against mine, a simple touch that sent shivers down my spine, igniting a fire of longing within me.

As the night grew darker, our conversation continued, traversing the realm of music, dreams, and personal experiences. Time seemed to lose its grip, and it was just Seonghwa and me, two destined souls intertwined in a space where nothing else mattered.

As the hours slipped away, my heart felt both heavy and light. I had shared something profoundly intimate with Seonghwa, a connection that transcended the boundaries of fandom and reality. And as we finally bid each other farewell, I knew that the love story that had begun with a shared gaze had evolved into something deeper – a story of two hearts finding solace, comfort, and love in the midst of a bustling world.

Weeks had passed since that serendipitous night when Seonghwa and I had shared our first intimate conversation. Our connection had deepened over late-night phone calls, bridging the gap between our physical separation as Seonghwa continued on his tour. The miles between us seemed insignificant as our voices carried our emotions across the line, turning ordinary conversations into moments of shared intimacy.

But as Seonghwa's tour took him back to South Korea, the physical distance began to weigh on both our hearts. I missed him with an ache that only grew stronger with each passing day. Determined to surprise him and bridge the gap, I made a bold decision.

I booked a flight to South Korea.

My arrival in South Korea was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. As I stepped off the plane and breathed in the unfamiliar air, a mixture of excitement and anticipation filled my every step. I made my way to the Ateez dorms, as I had gotten help from San to my surprise. A swirl of emotions churned within me. When I finally arrived, I was greeted with warmth and hugs from San and Yeosang, both of whom had become familiar voices through the phone.

"Welcome, Y/n! We've heard so much about you," San exclaimed, enveloping me in a tight hug that made me feel instantly at ease. Yeosang joined in, his smile as genuine as ever.

After the initial excitement settled, I couldn't help but ask the question that had been on my mind since I arrived, "Where's Seonghwa?"

"He's at the company right now, but he should be back shortly," San replied with a mischievous grin. "He's going to be over the moon when he sees you."

As I waited for Seonghwa's return, I spent time bonding with San and Yeosang, our laughter filling the room. We shared stories, inside jokes, and moments that I knew I would treasure forever.

Finally, the door burst open, and Seonghwa walked in. His eyes widened in shock and disbelief as he took in the sight of me standing there, a radiant smile on my face. Without a second thought, he crossed the room and enveloped me in a tight embrace, his happiness palpable.

"Is this real? Am I dreaming?" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with disbelief.

I laughed, my heart swelling with affection. "I'm real, Seonghwa. I wanted to surprise you." Seonghwa could only hug me tighter, spinning me around the room, our giggles filling the air.

Over the next few days, Seonghwa and I embarked on a whirlwind adventure across Seoul. We explored the streets, visited popular spots, and shared moments of quiet intimacy. One sunny day, we found ourselves sitting on a park bench, enjoying ice cream and each other's company, the sundown casting a golden glow over the bustling town.

Our conversation flowed effortlessly until an elderly couple passing by stopped in front of us. With a twinkle in their eyes, the old woman smiled and said, "You two make such a cute couple."

Seonghwa's reaction was unexpected. He chuckled nervously and quickly denied the assumption, causing a pang of disappointment to flicker within me. I quickly masked my feelings and brushed it off, but inside, doubt began to creep in.

As the day turned into night, I found myself retreating into my thoughts. I withdrew from the members' offers to eat, choosing to wallow in self-pity instead. I felt like an outsider in a world where Seonghwa was a star and I was just an ordinary person.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, Seonghwa finally pleaded for me to let him in. I hesitated before reluctantly allowing him into the spare room they had given me during my stay. As he saw my tear-stained face, his heart shattered, and he, too, was reduced to tears.

He cupped my face gently in his hands, his voice trembling as he asked, "Y/n, what's wrong?"

I looked up at him, my eyes brimming with vulnerability. "Do you… not like me? Is that why you denied us being a couple the other day?"

Seonghwa's heart ached as he realized the impact of his words. He wiped away my tears and took a deep breath, his voice steady yet laden with emotion. "No, Y/n. It's not that. It's just… I was afraid. Afraid that if I admitted my feelings, you might reject me. I never wanted to risk what we have for my feelings."

My heart swelled with a mix of relief and understanding. I reached up and gently silenced him with a kiss, shocking him. I pulled away to see his reaction, but I found that impossible as he pulled me into a deeper kiss, a soft yet profound message of requited feelings. We both laughed through our kiss, our emotions finally finding an outlet.

When we pulled away, I pulled and tackled Seonghwa onto the bed, both of us laughing.

As we cuddled on the bed, our laughter faded into hushed whispers. The air was charged with a newfound intimacy, our shared experiences deepening our connection. Seonghwa gazed into my eyes, his heart in his throat as he asked the question that had been on his mind for so long.

"Y/n, will you be my girlfriend?"

Tears welled up in my eyes once more, but this time they were tears of joy. With a radiant smile, I answered, "Yes, Seonghwa. Yes, I will."

Our lips met in a tender kiss, sealing our newfound commitment to each other. As we embraced, the weight of doubt and distance lifted, replaced by the certainty that our love story was just beginning – a love story that had transcended the boundaries of fame and ordinary life, bringing two souls together in a journey of shared moments, whispered confessions, and unbreakable love.

#fanfiction #park seonghwa #park seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fic

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xxlady-lunaxx · 4 months ago

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im bored so uhm have this sngy AU im brainstorming (jk i forgot about, i wrote this like 2 weeks ago yet only remembered when scrolling thru my writing) btw its just like the plot or whatever cuz most of it is supposed to be developing their relationship but i like being vague about that when writing the overall summary 😃 also i wrote this with the intention of only me seeing it so if there’s anything silly no you didnt — im kinda trying to incorporate the regular AU into this AU (which i do often lmfao) so some things are jsut me flailing around trying to make it pass off as natural

so like a song turned on when i was in the car today (2 weeks ago) and then i got this whole ass idea from it 😭

So! SaneGiyuu, modern AU.

Sanemi’s hometown was struck by a sickness that spread like a plague (ok it kinda was). Most of his family got it, except Genya and Sanemi. Wanting the two to have a chance, Shizu (the shinazugawa mother) gave Sanemi instructions and access to her bank account then sent him and Genya off to find a small apartment until hopefully the others recovered. Around this time, Sanemi had recently turned 18 (so it was winter when the family fell sick) and Genya was 13. Unfortunately, of course, the other Shinazugawa’s didn’t make it and Sanemi got a letter from some of the other villagers about this. Following the tragedy, Genya and Sanemi had to make a life for themselves. Obviously it was going to be hard and they were barely going off of what money they had left from Shizu. Sanemi ended up having to quit school so he could find a job, but he encouraged Genya to keep going, promising to help him along the way. Sanemi found a pretty solid job eventually, but as summer rolled by and Genya was out of school, he needed someone to care for him. Which is where Giyuu comes into the story!

Giyuu was living with Sabito—his childhood best friend—half renting half just being a roommate, struggling between university and trying to find a job. He (and Sanemi) were 20 by now. Tsutako had moved away some time ago with her husband and Giyuu wasn’t able to support their apartment by himself, so he had moved in with Sabito (who had assured Tsutako he would ‘take care of Giyuu’). Sabito also went to uni with Giyuu but, of course, had his own life. Giyuu was having trouble finding a job but he came across Sanemi one day, who spoke of needing someone to care for his younger brother while he was out working. Giyuu offered immediately to help and Sanemi was ever the grateful for it, hiring him as a babysitter. As it turned out, all Giyuu needed to do was be there and make sure Genya didn’t do anything stupid because Genya wasn’t of age yet and needed caring for. So Giyuu went on with school/finding small jobs here and there.

As time flew on, he became closer to the Shinazugawa’s. At one point he had fallen asleep doing some of his schoolwork while watching over Genya. Next thing he knew, Sanemi was shaking him awake. Sanemi was very forgiving about him falling asleep ‘on the job,’ and said Genya behaved anyway. Then he pointed out the homework Giyuu had been doing. As it turned out, Sanemi wasn’t going to school and had dropped out to support himself and Genya. Of course, if he had any other choice he would’ve stayed in school. So he requested Giyuu to give him some lessons—like tutoring—just so he could learn more. He promised to pay Giyuu double what he was already paying him so, of course, Giyuu accepted—rushing home and asking Sabito how to teach someone later.

Giyuu and Sanemi’s relationship progressed and they started referring to themselves as friends, even inviting each other over just for idle talk when they found the time. Sanemi probably started catching feelings first, touched by Giyuu’s willingness to help (whether or not it was for the money), and just finding it refreshing to have a friend. After leaving his village, Sanemi would’ve left his friends as well (Masachika?) and then he wouldn’t have anytime for things he deemed unimportant like friendship—though he did everything he could to make sure Genya had all the friends and freedom he wanted. So having someone just being there for him and actually helping him so much, both as a sort of job and just because he could? Sanemi definitely found himself drawn towards Giyuu, and it was more than just his lack of social life.

Giyuu took a little longer to come to terms with his feelings, which could be interpreted as falling for Sanemi a while after in one light. Most likely he had thought Sanemi as a ‘compelling individual’ but nothing more than a friend—at least consciously. He hadn’t thought about feeling romantic feelings towards Sanemi, simply because he had never come to terms with the fact that he was gay. In most of his life, Giyuu had tried forcing female love interests onto himself, confused about why he never seemed to like anyone. Tsutako had never been homophobic, of course, she was probably bisexual anyway, but the topic had never surfaced and therefore Giyuu was mostly sheltered from anything more than male/female couples. He never understood crushes so, expectedly, when he gained feelings for Sanemi, he ignored all the signs and called it close friendship.

However. Sanemi confessed to Giyuu almost a year after they had met. It would be summer, now, and the two had aged another year (both 21 and Genya at 16.) Giyuu was stunned silent but this is what got the little silly cogs working in his brain and he began the quick ascent towards coming to realizing that he actually liked Sanemi. Given that he’d never known he’d liked anyone before, Giyuu was obviously reluctant to get in a relationship now. But Sanemi was so sweet and forgiving with him that he wanted to try it out and then confessed to Sanemi, hoping the feelings were still reciprocated (and they were!)

And uh pretty much the end. Happy ever after ✨ (and sabito like: wtf are you getting a job or boyfriend.)

little extra! sabito and giyuu met through Urokodaki who was a daycare teacher and had adopted Sabito. The two had been practically inseparable since then.

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #giyuu tomioka #sanemi shinazugawa #gay #alternate universe #kny au #sanegiyuu #kny sanemi #kny giyuu #giyuusane #genya shinazugawa #sabito #tsutako tomioka

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newyorkthegoldenage · 10 months ago

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Seeing in The New York Times the photograph of Helen Keller in the Observation Tower of the Empire State Building, I [Dr. John H. Finley] wrote her asking her what she really “saw” from that height. This remarkable letter written by her came in answer and was published in The New York Times Magazine. It will be agreed by all who read it that, as she said, she “beheld a brighter prospect than my friends with two good eyes.”

January 13, 1932 Dear Dr. Finley:

After many days and many tribulations which are inseparable from existence here below, I sit down to the pleasure of writing to you and answering your delightful question, “What Did You Think ‘of the Sight’ When You Were on the Top of the Empire Building?”

Frankly, I was so entranced “seeing” that I did not think about the sight. If there was a subconscious thought of it, it was in the nature of gratitude to God for having given the blind seeing minds. As I now recall the view I had from the Empire Tower, I am convinced that, until we have looked into darkness, we cannot know what a divine thing vision is.

Perhaps I beheld a brighter prospect than my companions with two good eyes. Anyway, a blind friend gave me the best description I had of the Empire Building until I saw it myself.

Do I hear you reply, “I suppose to you it is a reasonable thesis that the universe is all a dream, and that the blind only are awake?” Y—es—no doubt I shall be left at the Last Day on the other bank defending the incredible prodigies of the unseen world, and, more incredible still, the strange grass and skies the blind behold are greener grass and bluer skies than ordinary eyes see. I will concede that my guides saw a thousand things that escaped me from the top of the Empire Building, but I am not envious. For imagination creates distances and horizons that reach to the end of the world. It is as easy for the mind to think in stars as in cobble-stones. Sightless Milton dreamed visions no one else could see. Radiant with an inward light, he sent forth rays by which mankind beholds the realms of Paradise.

But what of the Empire Building? It was a thrilling experience to be whizzed in a “lift” a quarter of a mile heavenward, and to see New York spread out like a marvellous tapestry beneath us. There was the Hudson—more like the flash of a sword-blade than a noble river. The little island of Manhattan, set like a jewel in its nest of rainbow waters, stared up into my face, and the solar system circled about my head! Why, I thought, the sun and the stars are suburbs of New York, and I never knew it! I had a sort of wild desire to invest in a bit of real estate on one of the planets. All sense of depression and hard times vanished, I felt like being frivolous with the stars. But that was only for a moment. I am too static to feel quite natural in a Star View cottage on the Milky Way, which must be something of a merry-go-round even on quiet days.

I was pleasantly surprised to find the Empire Building so poetical. From everyone except my blind friend I had received an impression of sordid materialism—the piling up of one steel honeycomb upon another with no real purpose but to satisfy the American craving for the superlative in everything. A Frenchman has said, in his exalted moments the American fancies himself a demigod, nay, a god; for only gods never tire of the prodigious. The highest, the largest, the most costly is the breath of his vanity.

Well, I see in the Empire Building something else—passionate skill, arduous and fearless idealism. The tallest building is a victory of imagination. Instead of crouching close to earth like a beast, the spirit of man soars to higher regions, and from this new point of vantage he looks upon the impossible with fortified courage and dreams yet more magnificent enterprises.

What did I “see and hear” from the Empire Tower? As I stood there ’twixt earth and sky, I saw a romantic structure wrought by human brains and hands that is to the burning eye of the sun a rival luminary. I saw it stand erect and serene in the midst of storm and the tumult of elemental commotion. I heard the hammer of Thor ring when the shaft began to rise upward. I saw the unconquerable steel, the flash of testing flames, the sword-like rivets. I heard the steam drills in pandemonium. I saw countless skilled workers welding together that mighty symmetry. I looked upon the marvel of frail, yet indomitable hands that lifted the tower to its dominating height.

Let cynics and supersensitive souls say what they will about American materialism and machine civilization. Beneath the surface are poetry, mysticism and inspiration that the Empire Building somehow symbolizes. In that giant shaft I see a groping toward beauty and spiritual vision. I am one of those who see and yet believe.

I hope I have not wearied you with my “screed” about sight and seeing. The length of this letter is a sign of long, long thoughts that bring me happiness.

I am, with every good wish for the New Year,

Sincerely yours, Helen Keller

Top photo: Times Wide World Photos/Letters of Note Bottom photo: Associated Press

#vintage New York #1930s #Helen Keller #Empire State Building #Empire State Bldg.#Jan. 13 #13 Jan.#blind #deaf #imagination #seeing blind #how blind see #idealism #materialism #American materialism

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flufallo · 6 months ago

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I can't stop making these now

Niko: Do you mean best friend, boyfriend or bread feast? Because you’re being really vague here.

Crystal : I want a bf.

Crystal : Legend says that when you can’t sleep, it means you’re awake in someone else’s dreams.

Crystal : When I find out who you are, I’m going to punch you in the face.

Cat king: Hello friends!

The Squad:

Cat king: You might be wondering why I’m taped to the ceiling

Crystal : If I had a face like yours, I'd put it on a wall and throw a brick at it

Edwin: If I had a face like YOURS, I'd put it on a brick and throw a wall at it.

Cat king: I did it! I memorized everything in the book! I'm gonna ace this test!

Esther: Ok, Cat king, I'll give you one more question before you go. What ended in 1916?

Cat king: edwin

Esther: ...You're ready.

(I edited this one obvs)

Cat king, when Charles walks in: Oh, hey, I'm just making pizza.

Cat king: *accidentally smacks Edwin in the face with the baking sheet*

Cat king: Never gonna make you cry!

Monty: Never gonna say goodbye!

Cat king: Never gonna tell a lie—

Crystal : I will hurt you.

Edwin: You spent all our money on THIS??

Charles, putting tiny raincoats on ducklings: They live outside. They need this.

Edwin: Hey, about that love letter you sent me-

Cat king: *blushes* What are your thoughts?

Edwin: The fourth sentence-

Cat king: Yeah, that’s where I got really emotional and I-

Edwin: It’s “you’re” not “your”.

Bailiff: Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?

Crystal : No.

Niko: Nice rock.

Charles: Thanks, Jenny gave it to me.

Jenny: I threw it at you!

Charles: Aren't they the sweetest?

Monty: How did none of you hear what I just said?!

Charles: I've been zoned out for the past two and a half hours.

Jenny: I got distracted halfway through.

Crystal : Ignoring you was a conscious decision.

Cat king: As your best friend—

Edwin: Charles is my best friend.

Cat king, holding a knife: As your best friend—

Cat king: *watching their house burn down*

Cat king:

Cat king: *starts filming* Waddup, guys, welcome to my vlog, today's topic: how to get away with accidentally committing arson because you forgot Spaghetti O's cans are metal and thus non-microwavable! Step one: deny everything.

Charles: Well, I'm very sorry to hear about your mother.

Monty: Mmm, we aren't really that close.

Charles: Oh, good.

Monty: What did you get Niko for their birthday?

Charles: I got them a kitten.

Monty: Really? Me too!

Crystal : I also got them a cat.

Edwin: Looks like we had the same idea.

Charles: Cat king, please tell me you didn't get Niko a cat as well!

Cat king: ...what do you think?

*later*

Niko, in their apartment surrounded by cats and kittens: This is the best birthday ever!

Edwin, setting down a card: Ace of spades.

Crystal, pulling out an Uno card: +4.

Charles, pulling out a Pokémon card: Jolteon, I choose you!

Niko, trembling: What are we playing?!

Edwin: Ugh, crushes are so dumb.

Monty: I know. Whenever I’m near the person I like I just start acting stupid.

Edwin: But you’re always acting stupid?

Monty: ...

Monty: Yeah, don’t think about that too hard.

Niko: Make no mistake. Not only am I party rocking, but I am also in the house tonight.

Crystal : But are you shuffling?

Niko: Everyday.

Edwin: What language are you two speaking??

Cat king, holding a toy lightsaber: I’m Darth Vader!

Edwin: I’m done with everyone’s bullshit.

Monty: Niko, what are you doing?

Niko: *shaking a cat shaped piggy bank* I’m just trying to figure out how much change I have inside.

Monty: You could always take it out and count it.

Niko: Where’s the fun in that?

Cat king: Hey.

Edwin: Hey?

Cat king: I can't sleep. :/

Edwin: I can. Goodnight.

Niko: I can’t believe my birth certificate says F...

Niko: ...How did I fail being born?

Niko: The only thing I'm guilty of is being adorable... ...and also assault with a deadly weapon.

Charles: Edwin, I got suspended from school…

Edwin: WHAT?!?! What did you do?

Charles: My teacher pointed at me with a ruler, and he said “there is an idiot at the end of this ruler”.

Edwin: And…?

Charles: I asked which end…

Edwin, unable to contain their laughter: Okay, you just made my day.

Charles, working at McDonald's: Sorry sir, we don't serve a McFuck here, so either you throw that one slice of pickle out or we're gonna have a McProblem.

Crystal : *trying to get five seconds of sleep*

Charles, poking Crystal ’s arm: Crystal Crystal . Crystal . Crystal .

Crystal : WHAT?

Charles: …We’re out of Capri Suns—

Edwin, to Charles: You're starting to forget your Spanish. You don't practice.

Charles: Lo siento. Estoy embarazada.

Edwin: You just told me you're pregnant.

Niko : Congratulations Charles, you're glowing!

Cat king: I just ended a five year relationship.

Niko: Oh no, are you okay?

Cat king: It's okay, it wasn't mine.

Niko : I was voted “friendliest classmate” in high school.

Charles: I was voted “most likely to become a clown”…

Cat king : You think that’s bad? HA! I was voted “most likely to get rabies”!

Edwin, playing a video game: How do I play?

*Edwin has drawn first blood!*

*Edwin is on a killing spree!*

*Edwin is on a rampage!*

*Edwin is unstoppable!*

*Edwin is dominating!*

*Edwin is godlike!*

Edwin: Don’t worry guys, I figured it out.

#dead boy detectives #incorrect quotes #i cant stop help me #edwin payne #charles rowland #crystal palace #niko sasaki #monty finch #the cat king

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goodmorgan · 2 years ago

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Perfect Strangers

Chapter 2: A Debt To Repay

(Chapter 1)

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x f!Reader

Series Summary: When a stranger appears at your homestead to steal from you, you set out to help him instead. What follows is a reckless relationship with potentially dangerous outcomes.

Chapter Summary: When Arthur keeps his promise and returns, he's determined to repay his debt to you in more than one way.

Word Count: 5.4K

Tags: NSFW. MDNI. 18+. Smut, Porn With Plot, Oral Sex (f! receiving), Fingering, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Infidelity, Arthur gives reader a pet name

AO3 Link

A/N: The chapter has spoilers for the first one obvs. For the sake of the story, I have given reader a last name. However, Arthur decides to give her a pet name all of his own...

"To my dearest wife, Mrs. Brooks,

I hope my letter finds you in agreeable health and blithe spirit. I am fortunate to write this in the same state of body and mind.

I am writing to inform you that my return home from Annesburg has been regrettably delayed again. Mr. Jameson has instructed me to remain as bookkeeper for the upcoming months, expressing modest satisfaction with my employment. I do not know yet when I’ll be able to visit you.

I hear whispers that the head bookkeeper, Mr. Muller, my superior, might be retiring by the end of this year, which would make me a potential candidate for his position. I plan on proving my worth in the meantime so that I might be given preferential treatment when the time comes for his replacement. I would like to discuss this in greater detail with you on our next meeting.

Business is flourishing despite minor mishaps at the mine hindering our profit. The papers have callously depicted the pristine working conditions of our miners, whom I assure you are treated and provided for in the most respectable manner. Please refrain from reading such worthless gossip and know I am secure from bodily or spiritual harm.

Mr. Jameson has generously provided compensation for postponing my visit. I trust that you will able to retrieve it at the Valentine Savings Bank, like on previous occasions. Please be mindful to spend it wisely and sparingly.

I bid you farewell with the optimism that we will see each other very soon. In the meantime, I'll see you in my most tender dreams.

Be well and let bygones be just that.

Your doting husband,

Stanley Oliver Brooks"

It has always struck you as appropriate that your husband's initials are S.O.B.

You can't think of a more fitting term for him, even after the last letter he sent, his words leaving you again sick to your stomach as you reread them. While you sigh of relief for his foreseeable absence in the next few months, you're disgusted by his artificial affection and concern for you. If only the man of his letters were real.

You close shut the drawer containing his correspondence with a thud, hearing your wedding ring clang inside. You haven't worn it in months, preferring to not wear a constant reminder of him on you.

You go into the kitchen to find something useful you can do, keeping your mind and hands busy with toil usually helps forget him. You decide to bake a pie with the rest of the apples you have left.

You reach for the flour in your cupboard when you hear the distant sound of horses approaching, making you turn around sharply, grabbing the shotgun by the door. It's now a mechanical instinct for you, having done it hundreds of times since you've lived out here alone. Nothing has passed during that time to upset the peaceful life you lead, so you mostly do it out of precaution. The only major cause of concern happened a few days back when you saw a strange man wander into your front yard, picking one of your apples. Luckily, he was the best thing that happened to you in a long time.

You don't dare risk your luck again so you step out onto the porch quickly, getting ready to ward off any intruder. It's only when you have him in your line of sight that you see the approaching target.

It's Arthur Morgan. At last.

It has been five whole days since he left with your mare Amber. His promise to return hanged in the air since like the sun rays that get you up in the morning, sweet and inviting. You would have never imagined you'd miss someone this much, let alone someone you only knew for a few spellbinding hours.

The man you met intimately last week is now riding a powerful brown stallion, an adequate choice for him, both of them equally imposing to the eye. Amber gallops by their side appearing smaller but just as graceful and well-kept, her golden coat shining in the morning sun. Arthur slows down both horses to a trot as he enters your front yard, letting out an "Easy now" as he pulls on the reins. The closer he gets to you, the better you can see the quiet tender smile on his lips, one too unseemly for such a big man riding such a big horse.

Arthur looks much improved since the last and only time you saw him, now wearing clean clothes that highlight his threatening physique. A polished, perhaps new, slightly too tight, blue shirt brings out his eyes as they shimmer under the shadow of his familiar hat. The bruises on his face have almost healed and you can see the scar on his chin more clearly now that he has trimmed his beard. The satchel you gave him is still draping the same shoulder he hung it on and an impressive gun belt sits on his hips, two heavy weapons anchoring him. Your eyes can barely register all of this as you keep ogling his scene-stealing smile.

"You greet everyone with that shotgun of yours or just me?" he quips from atop his horse as he prepares to dismount. Hearing the soothing lilt of his voice again fills you with unabashed joy.

"Just men I have over for dinner. Or men who take my horse. Or both."

Arthur lets out a few chuckles as he stomps on the ground, heading towards the rails of your porch to hitch his horse. You head toward Amber, petting her forehead to say hello and she neighs back, saying she missed you too. You give her some more attention before you feel Arthur standing behind you, waiting his turn to get your sweet attention too.

"Was she a good girl?" you ask him when you finally turn around and meet his enigmatic gaze, his face barely a few inches from yours. His smile seems to be stuck in place.

"Yeah, she's a swell ride. Didn't work her too hard, I promise."

"And who's that?" You nod towards the brown stallion now grazing your lawn.

"That's Titus. He's new. Still a little jumpy."

"Well, I'm sure you'll tame him in no time."

"Yeah, I'll get him there."

When your spoken conversation halts, your unspoken one continues as you keep eyeing each other. There's a magnetic push forcing you together, an invisible pull holding you apart. Small wrinkles appear and dissolve on your faces as fleeting hints of your nervousness. Your heartbeats are a little faster than their resting rates. Your eyelashes suddenly work overtime. The breeze cools your sweaty temples as you both sway in place, waiting to see who will make the first move, who will be the one to break off the impasse. Make or break. Push and pull. A seductive stalemate.

"How’ve you been?" Like a hesitant player with a winning hand, you fold.

"Just fine. Better. Alive, thanks to you."

"I'm glad." You feel your cheeks move to form an unstoppable smile.

"I've come to repay my debt, as a matter of fact."

"Oh, really?" You pretend to have forgotten all about it, like it hasn't occupied your mind every single waking hour for the past few days. "And how do you plan on doing that?"

"I have something in mind. But first I'm gonna need your help with something.”

You watch as he moves back to his horse and you follow him, hitching Amber next to Titus. Arthur removes a brown bag from one of his saddlebags. "Here, hold this." It's heavier than you expected. He moves to the other side of the horse to retrieve a smaller bag. "Grab this one too.” You steady yourself as he hands it to you and you start to struggle with the weight of both bags. "Get those inside, would ya?"

“Mr. Morgan, what is this?"

"Just get them inside. I'll show ya."

You're already climbing the stairs to head inside when Arthur finally unropes the big package that was stowed on the back of his horse. By the way he holds it, it seems even heavier.

When you finally place the two bags down on your kitchen counter, Arthur's already right behind you, setting down the package next to the bags. He opens one of them and reaches inside, handing you a potato the size of his fist.

"Thought I'd bring back some things you might need. To replace all the food I ate the other day."

You watch as he starts to empty the bag on the counter, first reaching for potatoes, carrots and onions and then for handfuls of green beans and peas. He retrieves a few shucked corncobs, some turnips. You peek inside the other bag to see that it has a few loaves of bread.

"Now, the only thing I didn't get you was apples, but I figured you might still have a few of those."

"This is too much." You finally express your surprise.

"Well, I did eat too much."

"Not this much, no!"

"It's nothing, really. Why don't you open up the rest for me and I'll get the game I hunted?"

You watch him leave before you finally open the big boxed package. Laying on top you find a few red tins of biscuits and half a dozen chocolate bars. You lift them to find cans of coffee, beans, peaches and salmon. You spot the neck of a bottle of whiskey, an expensive kind by the look of it. A small wheel of cheese is stuck in a corner.

You're still deep in astonishment when you see him walk back in, a couple of rabbits hanging from one hand and a duck from the other. You can't help but laugh at the image. "You steal a grocer on the way over here or something? How much do you think I eat?"

"Just trying to make sure I do right by you, miss. Don't want you thinking I'm so kind of grifter."

"But I didn't give you any chocolate. Or biscuits!" You raise one of the tins in incredulity.

"Oh, that's something I thought you deserved."

Your heart flutters at his words. "Well, you better be staying for dinner because there's no way I can eat this all by myself!" It's only when the words are out of your mouth that you realize how eager you are to replicate the other night.

"I'd be happy to." He accepts your invitation without a fuss. There’s a certain easefulness in your conversation now that you're better acquainted and you both know your attraction is mutual. It doesn’t surprise you that he says yes.

You look back to the goods now cluttering your counter and wonder if you have space in your cupboards to keep it all.

"I was actually hoping you'd let me borrow some of your tools, so I can settle my debt like I promised."

You turn around surprised once again. "Isn't this the repayment you had in mind?" You gesture toward the supplies on the counter.

"No, ma'am. I was thinking I could help you fix your stable. I went to get Amber the other day and I saw that some of the walls need mending and the roof needs fixing. I'd be happy to do it if you let me."

You've been meaning to hire someone to do that for months. It's touching that Arthur noticed and wants to help you out. You don't see a reason not to let him.

"That would be fine, Mr. Morgan. I have some tools here." You reach for your toolbox under the kitchen sink. "There's more of them somewhere in the stable. I'm sure you can find them. Are you sure you don't mind? I don't want to impose."

He takes the toolbox as you hand it to him. "I'm more than happy to help, miss." He gives you a reassuring smile. "I'll get started right away if you don't mind."

“Sure. I'll fix us some lunch later. I'll come to get you when it's ready."

"Thank you." He nods politely before he excuses himself and you watch through the kitchen window as he stops to pat Titus before heading to the stable out back.

You are now stuck with the ordeal of putting away all of the food Arthur brought, rearranging the cupboards to fit it all. You smile as you store the biscuits and the bars on a shelf, wondering what kind of man brings so much chocolate to repay a lady. Something I thought you deserved, he said. But it's not just chocolate, it's a whole array of goods, including meats he took time to hunt and skin to purposely bring to you. You realize he's been thinking of you as much as you've been thinking about him, even though a week ago you were just complete strangers. Your thoughts are interrupted once you hear sudden loud rhythmic hammering outside, the continuing of Arthur's restitution.

Everything is in its place once you remember you were going to bake an apple pie before you were so delightfully interrupted. You think it's an even better idea now that Arthur is staying over for dinner. And lunch. Somehow you've captivated him enough to spend the whole day here with you. You hope he'll be spending the night too.

It gets harder to focus on the pie as you recall the night of intimacy the two of you spent the other day. Your chest rises and your breath hisses at the thought that you might be repeating it tonight. As you mix and mold the dough on your steady hands, you think of his large ones caressing you once again, first through your clothes and then on your skin, leaving his mark again on your faltering hips as he gives into you for the second time. You'll be sure to ask him to let you finish around him first this time, the idea having plagued you since then.

The oven is already hot once you absentmindedly finish assembling the pie, the apples now carefully stuffed inside the crust. As it bakes, you get working on lunch, made with some of the ingredients Arthur brought, a simple soup with plenty of potatoes and some sandwiches. You remove the pie from the oven and leave it to cool on the window sill before you go call Arthur for your meal.

When you reach the stable you find him crouched on top of the roof, nailing down some pieces of wood to cover a hole. He’s working shirtless and the late morning sun is making him sweat profusely, deepening his permanent tan. He’s so focused on his task he doesn’t see you approach. “Mr. Morgan, lunch is ready!”

Your voice is loud enough to make him turn to see you. “I’ll be right in, miss.”

When you’re nearly back at the house, you watch from afar as he climbs down the ladder, reaching for a bucket of water to refresh himself, scrubbing off the sweat with a damp rag. You leave when you see him buttoning his shirt, tucking it into his pants, priming himself for another meal with you.

By the time he gets inside, you’re already serving two bowls of steaming hot soup. “This looks mighty fine, miss.” He gives you a satisfied grin before he stops in his tracks and turns around to peek inside the kitchen, having caught the smell of your freshly baked treat. “Is that pie?”

“Yes, it’s cooling so you’re going to have to wait for dinner, I’m afraid.”

“I look forward to it.” He sits down on the same chair he did last time, just as anxious to dig in as five days ago. But this time he’s not as hungry, so he engages in lively conversation with you.

He mostly tells you what’s new in Valentine, curious happenings that have gone down in the past few weeks, things he’s heard around town and seen in the papers. He even gossips with you about a well-known cattle rancher caught having an affair with the butcher’s wife. The story seems to delight him immensely since apparently they ended up slimed in the rancher’s own pigpen in the middle of the town.

You would find the story amusing if it didn’t remind you that you too are a wife with your own infidelity now. The idea of ending up in a pigpen after being exposed for your transgression seems incredibly bleak. You busy yourself with the dishes to dispel the thought from your mind.

But when Arthur raises from his chair, letting out a long sustained breath, stretching out his enormous body inside your small cottage, you are reacquainted with the lust you have for the man. As you recall the intimate actions that make up your infidelity, your first thought is to wonder how soon you will be able repeat them. The hope that it will be tonight makes you weak with excitement. Maybe ending up in a pigpen isn’t so bad.

“Well, I best get back to it if I’m gonna finish today.” He stops before he crosses the threshold, returning his hat to his place. “The food was very tasty, miss. Thank you.” You both smile briefly at each other.

While he resumes fixing the stable, you return to your chores until you are suddenly left drowsy by the afternoon heat, deciding to rest your eyes for a moment in the comfort of your sofa, the sound of Arthur’s hammer lulling you to sleep.

It's late afternoon when you wake from your nap and you notice how quiet it is, the hammering having stopped. You figure it’s best to go see if Arthur needs any help, bringing with you a pitcher of lemonade to refresh him from a sunny day’s hard labor.

You find him still working inside the stable, his shirt, hat and gun belt hanging on the hooks where you keep some ropes. This time he hears you approach with the pitcher and two glasses in hand.

“Thought you might be thirsty, Mr. Morgan. Got you something to drink.”

“That’s very kind of you, miss. Just give me a second.”

You watch as he picks up a few bales of hay on the other side of the stable and he places them on top of the others, finishing setting them up in a neat pyramid by where you’re standing.

"I think that about does it,” he says.

You survey the small stable as you notice the impressive result of his craftsmanship, every hole now covered and every wooden board now in its place. He even went to the trouble of tidying up the space, neatly arranging everything to make it more functional. It looks like a brand new stable.

You serve him a glass of lemonade as he joins you. “The stable looks wonderful, Mr. Morgan. I’ve never seen it so tidy!”

“I’m glad you like it.” He sits down on a bale as he finally rests for the day, sipping half a glass in just a few gulps.

You serve yourself and put down the pitcher, sitting on a nearby stool, continuing to admire his handiwork. Amber will surely enjoy living here again, you think. It takes only a few seconds before your eyes circle back to where Arthur is and you notice he’s staring at you. You stare right back.

There’s a slight breeze coming in from the windows but neither of you is swaying in place now, sitting perfectly still as you observe the other. You are once again victims of a push and pull, a make or break. That goddamn seductive stalemate.

Except this time, it’s him that breaks. “Come here.” Arthur’s voice suddenly sounds deeper as he sets his glass on the floor, his other hand reaching out for you. You leave your own glass on the stool as you hold out to touch his palm.

When he finally holds you in his hand, you feel yourself being pulled closer to him, forcefully landing on his lap. Your faces remain somber as you’re now close enough to inspect each other’s irises, continuing that wordless exchange you’ve been having all day. The standoff ends when Arthur chases your lips with his, finally free to crash into each other like you’ve been so hungry to do. Nothing about it is tender as the kisses you share turn ravenous, no longer restricted by the pretense of propriety. You have slept together, after all.

It takes a while until both of you are satisfied, decreasing the intensity of each kiss as you pause to look at each other’s eyes, basking in the glow of being wanted so deeply by the other. Soon his warm lips rub against yours more softly, delicately even, and his tongue stops chasing yours. He settles down by placing short pecks on your chin and jaw, as you gently caress his back and neck. You remain in his embrace as you lean your forehead onto his and he gently removes loose strands of hair from your cheeks.

"I'm sorry I was selfish the other night,” he murmurs. You respond to his apology by lifting your head in confusion. “I was in such a hurry I didn't let you finish first." The fact that he cares about it makes you ache with renewed desire.

"That's ok. It looked like you needed it more than I did.” You pause as he reaches quickly for your lips again. “And, boy, did I need it!” He lets out a few soft chuckles in that drawl of his.

His gaze is suddenly serious. "Let me make it up to you."

“Now?”

He nods. “Now.”

He reaches for the warmth of your thighs underneath your skirt, the ones he’s been fondling this whole time. He squeezes them tightly a few times before he suddenly pulls at your drawers and slides a hand inside, reaching your core with a couple of fingers. You feel them slide between your folds and rub the spot where your slick is. “Good, you’re already wet.” You feel a jolt of ecstasy through your entire body at the brief maneuver so when he removes his hands from you it feels physically devastating and you let out a small whimper.

“I’m gonna take care of you, don’t worry. Just take off your clothes for me, would ya?” Arthur suddenly reaches for his glass of lemonade.

“Here?”

He nods. “Here.”

It’s a rather odd moment when you realize that somehow you trust this semi-stranger, barely-acquaintance drifter completely. He’s asking you to get naked for him in the middle of your stable, in broad daylight, and yet you don’t even bat an eye. You’re quick to grant his wish as you start unbuttoning your simple blouse, soon exposing your chemise to him as he takes a few sips of his drink. You drop your top on the floor as you get up from Arthur’s lap to remove your skirt and throw your drawers to the side, with only one piece of clothing left to remove.

Arthur rises from his seat and soon hovers over you to plant another kiss, this one more forceful as he parts your lips with his, slippery from the lemonade. He lingers a while before retreating, forcing himself apart from you to swoop up your chemise as it passes between your bodies. He takes a moment to look down at you and you’re very aware that you are now standing there naked and barefoot. “You’re so beautiful.” He sees you wince at his compliment. “Really, you are.” He softly caresses the side of your arms before leaning in for another demanding kiss and you feel your bare breasts touching his bare chest, his warmth enveloping you as you shiver from his touch and the light breeze entering the stable.

He lets go of your mouth to plant sensual kisses on your jaw, slithering steadily down your neck, quickly reaching your collarbone. He then trails further down as he reaches one of your breasts, lingering his tongue on your nipple, making you steady yourself on his shoulders. He slides further down to your belly, then to your navel, stopping just as he hits your mound, planting soft kisses there. His last one is right above your parting of the folds, making your whole body shudder. He gets up again to look you in the eyes. “So beautiful.” A final kiss lands on your upper lips.

He pauses before he asks his next question. “You have any neighbors, miss?”

You are completely surrounded by the woods. There isn’t another soul for miles. “No, why?"

"In case you get loud."

You watch in place as he goes to retrieve his shirt and for a moment you think he’s going to get dressed. Then he heads to the bales of hay he had been sitting on, unfurling his shirt on top. He grabs your hand and beckons you: “Sit.” You’re confused by his intentions and it shows. “Sit here, come on.” He pats the fabric of his shirt, tugging your hand with his other one. You slowly do so, still not understanding what he wants.

Once you sit down, your bare ass lying on top of Arthur’s shirt, you follow his lead and he grabs both your knees gently, making you turn to the side. You watch as he suddenly kneels himself down in front of you, moving his hands down to your calfs, lifting your legs up. Without any warning he starts pecking one of your knees, placing the other on his shoulder. “You gonna be loud for me, beautiful?” His beard lightly scratches you as he switches legs. “You gonna be loud while you come around my mouth?”

His words make you inhale sharply as you realize what he’s going to do to you.

“Is that a yes, miss?”

You nod, shaking with anticipation. “Yes.”

He pulls your body closer to him, positioning your hips at the edge of the bale, making you lean on your elbows, fully lying on the comfort of his shirt.

His light kissing on your legs starts out feeling like gentle tickling but soon becomes sensual smears as he starts working on your inner thighs. The kisses then get longer and bolder as he closes in on the meeting of your thighs, forcing you to breathe more heavily. He starts using more tongue too, which increases the feeling wildly. By the time he reaches the apex of your thigh, you’re completely dizzy with his teasing, involuntarily closing your eyes as your breath hitches.

“Christ, darling, I haven’t even sucked you yet.”

You watch as Arthur lowers his face once more, a smirk disappearing behind the shape of your mound. He kisses the bridge between your thigh and your slit, which distracts you from his other hand as it sneakily reaches the meeting of your folds. He parts them slowly with a single finger, starting at the top of the clit and only stopping at the bottom of your entrance. You let out a prolonged loud moan, which makes him raise his head, watching your face as he then slides the same finger all the way back up, smearing your slick along its path. You get louder as he pauses directly on your clit, swirling it a few times. After so much teasing, having direct contact is so intense that your head finally hits the hay.

The reaction suddenly feels premature once you finally feel him start what he’s set out to do. Arthur lowers his head again, only this time his lips land right on yours, circling your clit in the gentlest kiss of the afternoon. Your whole body shakes at his subdued but blinding touch.

The coil inside your lower abdomen starts to wind as you feel the tip of his tongue make direct contact with your bud, its surface now angled perfectly to drive you wild. He continues the motion even as you writhe under him, now clutching his hair to ground yourself, your legs pressing his body down onto you as your back begins to curve. Rather than pull away from your tight embrace, he sinks deeper into you, holding your hips steady from their bucking as he continues to lap you lewdly, the sound only muffled by your own salacious moaning. His tongue is relentless in his pursuit of your pleasure and you think you won’t last very long.

The obscenity of the moment is not lost on you, as you lift your head momentarily to see what is happening. There is a tall handsome cowboy down on his knees for you, using his whole mouth to draw from you the most perverted noises, on the verge of making you crumble to the most erotic thing anyone has ever done for you. In the middle of your stable, of all places. You thank the heavens you don’t have any neighbors. You thank the devil for keeping your husband away.

And then you feel two of his fingers enter you.

You settle your head down again as you become a complete mess under him, too far gone to care about keeping it together, especially now that he rubs the sweet spot inside you. You’re barely able to discern that his free hand has now reached his pants but you hear the sound of his buckle opening. Finally free from his constraints, he strokes himself a few times and you feel him vibrate on top of you as he finds some needed relief. Despite this, his tongue and his fingers never let up, working you mercilessly. You soon feel moans of pleasure leave his mouth, reverberating directly on your core, a feeling too lascivious for you. That’s when you finally come undone.

Your whole body convulses as you experience the greatest climax you’ve ever had, feeling the waves of pleasure reach every inch of your body, maybe your soul. As you come, your core pushes upward against Arthur’s face, telling him to stop, but he does not relent, continuing his lapping, wringing every ounce of ecstasy out of you. You’re beyond overwhelmed as you moan uncontrollably, your hips sinking and rising erratically, your hands still pulling his hair. After a few moments, he begins to slow his licking, removing his fingers from you, placing his hands on your forearms, giving you smooth caresses as he helps you come down from your high. When you’re a little more tamed, he removes his mouth completely.

“That sure was loud, miss.”

You’re so wrung out by the orgasm you barely hear him, nor do you feel when one of his hands leaves your arm. When you’re more grounded, still reeling from the aftershocks, you’re delighted to hear he has resumed touching himself. By the increasingly loud panting, he sounds to be close already. You don’t lift your spinning head until your curiosity finally defeats your exhaustion. You watch as he pumps his cock with his mouth open, eyes closed, on the verge of toppling over. His beard still glistens with some of your wetness.

When you’re strong enough to lift yourself on your elbows he hears you stir, prompting his eyes open. The gaze he gives is one riddled with lust, accompanied by a brief licking of his lips as he sets a faster pace. You continue to gawk at him, which is all it takes for him to unravel, making him grunt deeply as his spend begins to land on the ground by his knees.

You wait for him to finish his release before you tease him. “You know, you’re not so quiet yourself, mister.”

He laughs lightheartedly as he rises from his knees, tucking his cock inside his underpants, pulling his pants up before he sits down next to you by your hips, still catching his breath. He softly caresses the side of your belly with one of his thumbs. “How was that, miss?”

"I think you’ve repaid your debt in full, Mr. Morgan.”

He bends down to kiss your lips lightly as you both giggle, shining in your shared postcoital bliss. “The name’s Arthur, miss.”

"Well, the name’s Y/N, Arthur.”

“I like ‘miss’ better. It suits you.” He lowers his lips again, this time reaching for your neck.

“You ever heard a ‘miss’ scream like that for you?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I might’ve heard louder than you.” He moves his thumb to teasingly play with one of your nipples.

“I very much doubt that.”

“Well, you can always prove me wrong.” Arthur hovers over your lips threateningly. “Besides, the day ain’t over yet, missy.”

You smile at his new pet name for you. It's certainly better than being called Mrs.

A/N: I already have most of the remaining chapters planned out, so hopefully the rest will be published a little faster. Chapter 3 coming soon with the rest of the day!

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan x you #goodmorgan

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omgahgase · 11 days ago

Text

all for you, all for me

this fic, lovingly titled "writing to get the gears back in place pls lord help me" was a Small Thing that turned into a Big Thing, and now it's ready to be unleased into the vast void of tumblr's charthur truthers. i'll post on ao3 with a proper summery and tags next, but for now, take this and give me head pats bc i think i deserve it.

nsfw charthur fic under the cut:

Charles brains himself on the coach's roof real good, and Arthur has the gall to tell him to shut up.

“You’re a heartless bastard, do you know that?” He asks, growling into Arthur’s hair as he rolls his hips forward, humps into the sticky warmth of Arthur’s abdomen and smears wet across the lower part of his belly.

Arthur chuckles underneath him, nipping at the meat of Charles’ chest to make a point. He has Charles crying out into the humidity of the night air, mouth occupied with suckling a dark nipple into his mouth but still seeming to say, ‘And what? You’re the fool for stayin’ with me.’

And as Charles spreads his knees wider over Arthur’s thick thighs, sinking into the pair of fingers stretching him open like a two-dollar whore, he thinks, ‘I really am a fool.’ He’s a fool for pawing at Arthur’s face and dragging him upwards, kissing him like a man deprived and moaning a hungry, desperate cry of a sound. He’s a fool for carding shaky fingers through Arthur’s greasy hair that he hasn’t washed in days all the while Arthur licks into the hot branding of Charles’ mouth, whispers sweet words between violent swipes of his tongue that Charles can’t hear over the loud roar of blood pumping hot in his ears. And he’s a fool for loving such a heartless, mean, bastard of a man.

Arthur’s free hand wraps hot and slick around Charles’ cock, pumps him through the vehement shake of his body when the two clever fingers inside his twitching hole turn into three. “I missed you, darlin’. Thought about you every day I was gone.”

“Yeah,” Charles bites back, maybe with a little more heat than he intended. “Gone for almost a whole month, Arthur. No goodbye. No letter. You just got up and left me.”

“I didn’t leave you,” Arthur defends. Charles feels the hard lines of Arthur’s frown deepen across his lips, the way they pull down and wrinkle. “Dutch sent me out on a job. I didn’t know it’d take a month.”

Charles huffs, and kisses along Arthur’s scruff until the burn of his facial hair itches along the curve of Charles’ mouth, a secondary sting to the truth Charles was too stubborn to acknowledge. It’s embarrassing, even though Charles doesn’t and will likely never admit it out loud, that Arthur’s words—a mantra in his own mind, the ‘I didn’t leave you,’ it says, in reply to every, ‘He left,’ like a correction—soothes over the piping hot lava pit of doubt that engulfed Charles the very first morning he realized Arthur was gone. The day after they had their first real argument that left both of them rattled, the harsh words still floating around in the shallow banks of Charles’ mind that were easily fished up by even the smallest of reminders.

Arthur said he hates how Charles bottles up his emotions and refuses to talk, pushing everyone and everything and Arthur away until Charles is alone and angry because that’s how he gets when he can’t man up. When he can’t think of anyone but himself. Charles, taking Arthur’s insults to heart because it’s difficult to break out of self-isolation when you’ve been by yourself for longer than you’ve been alive, said he can’t stand how Arthur comes back to camp beaten and bloody, bruised all over from a small ‘errand’ Dutch told him to do—that Arthur’s loyalty would get him killed one day if he’s not careful, and that Charles will not be there to bury another loved one if he can help it. Arthur, with eyes darker than the deepest oceans, asked if it would be better if he never came back at all and Charles was quick to answer yes.

Their little shouting match ended with Charles stomping down to the river below Horseshoe Overlook and Arthur taking Rouge out for a long ride. Neither saw the other before nightfall and by the time Charles awoke the next day and brewed some shitty coffee as a peace offering, Arthur was gone. No one in camp knew where he went, Dutch’s lips sealed tighter than a national bank’s safe, and Charles spent the worse half of their month-long separation wondering when Arthur would come back. And when he did, would he come back to Charles? After all he said?

His thoughts were proven to be false, it turns out, because while Charles was out on night watch, Arthur, eager and a little wild-eyed, rode up on an equally unruly horse and dragged Charles to their newest stagecoach, freshly robbed from a rich prick by Sean, Javier, and John. That’s how they ended up here, with Charles’ button-up ripped open and hanging by the crease of his elbows, his pants haphazardly discarded somewhere in the cab, his braid loose and falling out from the way Arthur manhandled him into his lap. Arthur’s cock is free from the confinements of his fly and leaking a steady stream of pre over his dirty jeans, his fingers knuckle deep in his lover, both of them kissing apologies into each other’s flushed skins because neither have the coherence to say it out loud.

A cool, pearly bead of sweat rolls down Charles’ spine, melting somewhere down the line of his shirt.

“Arthur,” he calls out in that tone of voice, the one he uses when he wants Arthur to know that he’s ready, when Arthur’s fingers aren’t enough and Charles needs him inside now.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I gotcha.” Arthur kisses his jaw as he pulls out his fingers and blindly searches for his jar of salve, his other hand keeping Charles steady with a bruising grip on his side.

Charles is impatient as Arthur readies himself, rolling his hips across the tight muscles of Arthur’s thighs, lifts up and down on his knees because he’s waiting and Arthur is nothing but an infuriating man because he’s taking his sweet time.

“Arthur, c’mon.”

“Easy. I’m here, Charles. I’m right here.” Arthur pats Charles’ hip, guides the wet crown of his cock to Charles’ puckered hole, and the feeling of Arthur’s head breaching that first ring of resistance has both of them gasping, hands clawing at sweat-slippery skin.

Charles sinks down down down, legs shaking with the strain of holding himself back from saying fuck it and slamming himself on Arthur’s cock. Taking it easy be damned. He went a full month with nothing but his hands to satisfy him, his own fingers holding no torch to the way Arthur’s cock stretches him wide, how Charles takes him in so deeply he can feel his cock in his throat.

When he’s fully seated, the heat of Arthur warming Charles from the inside out, Charles throws his head back, rocks into the feel of him, and grins into the stifling, shuttered air of their cab. He slides up and grinds back down in that way he knows will rub the fat head of Arthur’s cock perfectly against his bundle of nerves, his own cock dribbling a thick pearl of come over Arthur’s stomach. He doesn’t bother to muffle his moan when Arthur bucks into him, his hands pulling Charles down hard on the downstroke.

They’re alone, anyway. Far off from the camp in their little bubble. Just the way they like it.

“You’re gorgeous, darlin’,” Arthur groans. “So pretty, ridin’ me like this. I missed it—missed you.”

Charles chokes on a moan, the end clipping off into a dry sob when Arthur hits him spot on. “Missed you too, Arthur. Fuck—I missed you so much, you bastard.”

Charles arches his back and hisses when Arthur’s blunt nails dig into the meat of his hips, leaving crescent-shaped marks on his skin. Arthur bites at his shoulder, digs his teeth into flesh hard enough for Charles to cry out, and buries his fingers at the downy soft hair of his neck, holds him there as he humps and rides, as he grinds down hard enough to knock the air from his lungs. Arthur gives and bites and scratches until Charles feels tender like a bruise, thrusting up into him with enough force to shake the cab off its wheels and make Charles clutch at the bulging strain of his shoulders, holding on like a lifeline.

He’s being rough tonight, has been since he twisted a fist into Charles’ button-up and hauled him into the coach, threw him down on the velvet seats and stripped his bottom half bare, grabbed his cock in a vice-like grip and stroked him to his first orgasm. It’s like Arthur can’t stop himself from feeling the intensity of it all, savoring the closeness, the intimacy of Charles’ body, and the way they fit together perfectly, somehow, despite every difference. Like how they always do.

Arthur is a bastard of a man for leaving without telling Charles, and Charles should still be angry with him, still wants to strike his knuckles against Arthur’s jaw the same way his words cracked something deep in Charles’ chest, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t because he’s a fool in love and he’s missed this bastard—his bastard.

So Charles will let Arthur do what he wants and Charles will return Arthur’s affection in plenty. It’s how they work, it seems. Arthur loves loud, biting at flesh and clawing at taunt muscles, poking at wounds until he can patch them up with the same hands that made them. Charles’ affinity is more that of rolling rain clouds, plump and full with a storm ready to unleash across a lone prairie, washing up dried rivers and wetlands until a flood erupts and sweeps everything away.

Neither of them knows how to love like those happy couples they see in towns, with gentle hands clasped together and soft-spoken words shared between sweet kisses. And Charles thinks that’s okay for neither of them holds that gentleness that makes up a ‘happy couple.’ They’re two hardened men crafted by the sins of a youth stolen too early, melded by the life of a gang, and fused together from the shared highs and lows of trying to survive a blood-soaked world that doesn’t have any room for men like them. They’re not good, nor bad, but merely suspended somewhere above the middle ground, dangling over the idea of normalcy, of the arguments that lead to silence. The longing that leads to loving.

They’re not normal or always happy, but they’re together. And, when Charles thinks about it, when he’s reminded that Arthur will always come back because he’s stubborn like that, always aiming to beat away the apprehensive thoughts of Charles’ frustration with rough kisses and bruising grips, he likes it better this way. Their way.

Charles skates hot hands over the dipping valleys of Arthur’s chest, and tweaks a rosy nipple before tracing the lines of his abdomen, softened by the layer of pudge over hard muscle. His nails drag through the forest of hair leading down to his navel, to the bush of his base where Charles swallows him whole with ease, the slick of their lovemaking matting down his wiry curls. Arthur moans a loud, untamed sound when Charles clenches around him, when he slides up a slow, long drag just to slam back down.

“Do you know how hard it was to be away?” Arthur asks suddenly, his face full of flush and hands heavy with the fat of Charles’ bottom. He squeezes a cheek in each palm just to spread them apart, fucking harder into the wet heat of him. “How I spent almost every night fuckin’ my fist, pretendin’ it was you? I was in agony, Charles. It took everythin’ I had in me not to turn around and come home to you.”

Charles whines, and leans forward into Arthur’s space so he can bounce backward. The draw of Arthur’s cock is a glorious slide of friction, Charles can feel every vein throb against his walls, can count every twitch and jump with every grind. His thighs burn with the type of ache he’ll embrace in the morning when Arthur fucks the exhaustion out of him before the bustle of camp awakes with the sun.

“I think this way is better,” he manages around a moan. “You know what they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

Arthur chuckles into Charles’ neck and places a kiss on the underside of his jaw, right where his pulse sings against his lips. “My heart hurts when I’m not with you, darlin’. Feels worse than a bullet. But at least a bullet hole closes up over time. My heart bled until I rode up this road and saw you standin’ under that tree.”

Charles’ breath hitches, his eyes prickle. He wraps his arms around Arthur’s neck, hides his face into the side of his scruff as he wriggles and rides, tries to take as much of Arthur as he can because he’s longed for this for weeks, to finally feel his man in a way only lovers do with greedy hands and welcoming lips.

“Mine too,” Charles sobs. He kisses Arthur fiercely and loses himself in the red-hot acceptance of his mouth. “You bastard, you left and took my heart with you. What kind of man does that?”

“Not one deservin’ of someone like you,” is Arthur’s breathless reply. Then, “You could’ve done the same thing. You could’ve told me to kick me to rocks and I would’ve. If you ever want me to leave you for good—”

“I don’t,” Charles growls, annoyed that Arthur would even suggest something as ludicrous as that. “You’re with me, Arthur Morgan. Wherever you go, I expect you to come back to me.”

Arthur’s arms come up and tighten around Charles’ waist, pulling him firmly to his chest like how he did when he jumped off his horse and drew Charles against him with the desperation of a man starved.

“I will,” he whispers against Charles’ lips. “Always back to you.”

And Charles believes him, knows his words are true because Arthur is a lot of things but a liar isn’t one of them. It’s maddening to be wanted like this, to love fiercely and be loved in return. It makes Charles dizzy to have his adoration reflected back at him with such beloved intensity. It makes him weak, all the way up his spine and down his calves, makes him cry into Arthur’s neck with the ferocity of it all.

“Charles. Sweetheart,” Arthur murmurs, using the hold he has on Charles to keep him still, cradling him into the embrace of a hug long awaited. Rough hands slide down the smooth of Charles’ back, over the dips and curves of his shoulders and arms, lips brushing along the submission of his mouth. “I’ve got you. I’m right here.”

It doesn’t take long for Arthur to fuck up into him, slouching into the seats and dragging Charles down with him, feeling Charles’ eyes overspill and his heart tremble with a love only found in storybooks before taking control with all the self-assurance in the world.

There are no other words for the overwhelming feeling that shoots up Charles’ spine and settles behind his teeth when Arthur fucks into him with intent, as Arthur offers himself on a silver platter because he may be loyal to Dutch and the gang, but he’ll always, always leave his faithfulness in Charles’ open palms, providing him with nothing less than everything he has. His cock sinks into the sucking heat of him with effortless fervor, the loud slap of skin echoing in the cab and accompanying the rickety protests of squeaky wheels as Arthur ruts up and grinds, makes Charles drool with the indescribable way it’s all so good.

Arthur guides Charles’ hips downward at the same time he thrusts up, whimpering into Charles’ neck and fucking into his warmth with an exigency only achievable by the mush-mouth praise falling from Charles’ mouth. Charles doesn’t even know if his words are coherent let alone in English, the way Arthur hammers at his insides has him losing all sense of awareness, makes him cock-dumb and malleable.

“That’s it, baby—fuck me like this—oh, Arthur—” Charles babbles, lost in the intense ferocity of Arthur’s touch. His cock bobs helplessly between them, drooling and hot, before Arthur draws Charles into his palm like there are magnets embedded under his skin, squeezes him on the upstroke and makes Charles moan a sound so whorish he feels shameful heat gather in his cheeks. “Fuck! So good, cowboy—don’t stop, just like that. All for me—give it to me, Arthur—please.”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Arthur purs, stroking him with a wildness Charles has only ever seen him wear during a shootout, when he’s cornered and there’s no way out but forward. “You gonna come for me, big man? C’mon, I know you can do it, baby. You’re so good for me, my Charles. My big, beautiful, Charles.”

“Arthur,” Charles whines, lips skimming over the flushed skin of Arthur’s cheek. Large tears stream down his face at the sweet words, the ache in his lower back and ass, the pleasure that washes over him like a wave and pulls him under its blinding depths.

He comes like a bolt from the blue, spurting over Arthur’s fist in long, white strands, over Arthur’s belly and his black button-up. Stars shoot across his vision as his orgasm rocks through him like a supernova, making Charles cry out into the dark only to be muffled by Arthur’s lips finding his, kissing him like it’s the only thing he ever wants to do.

“That’s it, darlin’,” Arthur says against Charles’ spit-slick mouth, grinning into the mewl he draws out with his tongue. “Oh, you’re gorgeous like this. My Charles. All for me.”

“You too,” Charles gasps, barely registering how Arthur tears his shirt from his arms and arms to claw down sweat-damp skin, digging nails into muscle as he chases his own release, fucks him harder because that’s what Charles wants. “Inside, Arthur. Need you to fill me up—need to feel you.”

“Oh, Charles,” he chokes, eyes going wide and feverish. He kisses at the tears streaming down Charles’ face in fat, far-apart drops, licks at the salt on his jaw. “Anythin’, baby. Fuck, Charles, take it all. It’s all for you.”

And Arthur, with the benevolence of a man whose loyalty led him to this type of thing, loving Charles hard and making love to him soft, gives it his all. All for Charles to take and take and take. He comes with Charles’ name falling from his lips, his hips bucking like a pissed-off bull in a pasture. And Charles holds him through it, murmurs his thanks as he feels Arthur paint his insides, spilling hot and full where Charles will be able to feel him for ages.

When they’re done, when Charles milks the last spurt of come into his greedy hole and Arthur slumps into the coach's ruined seats, exhaustion finally seeping into their weary bones, they indulge. Arthur hooks his hands under the fleshy crooks of Charles’ knees and draws him up to fit tight against his chest before gliding his hands over the bare curve of his waist, pulling him closer as if he wants to mend them together. Charles drags his fingers through Arthur’s sweat-soaked hair, kisses at his scruff as he leans into the sticky mess of their coupling. His cock is rubbed raw against Arthur’s stomach, thighs shaking with the hurt spider crawling up his lower back, settling somewhere above his ass where he’ll complain about it later.

For now, noses are buried into necks, lips skim over bitten skin, and no words are exchanged save for the whispered ‘You okay?’ that Charles acknowledges with a heavy grunt, a flimsy fist thumped heavily across Arthur’s back. Arthur takes that as an ‘I’m alive’ and settles into the warmth of Charles’ body.

Neither of them knows how long they sit there, nor do either of them want to move, but Rouge rustles outside the stagecoach and pulls them out of their little bubble, makes them share a gentle brush of lips before parting. Charles relishes in the slow, careful drag of Arthur’s spent cock flopping out of his hole as he rolls to the side, the slick, squelchy feeling of come dripping between his cheeks and down his thighs and onto the stagecoaches seats.

It’s like a slow motion picture in Charles’ eyes, how Arthur watches stark white streak over his brown skin, his gaze blazing hotter than a bonfire, then, in that moment, Charles is unprepared for the unrelenting grip on his hips. Arthur maneuvers Charles with placate hands and gracious fingers until he’s spread over the velvet seat, thighs open wide for Arthur to kneel in between them like a man bending to pray. Charles can barely protest his oversensitivity before Arthur’s mouth is on him, licking at the tender inside of his thighs before he sucks at the wet give of his hole. Weak hands push at Arthur’s head, shoving him down until the entirety of his mouth encloses over Charles and he drinks him like a man sipping water from the finest gardens of Eden, tongue lapping at Charles’ puffy insides.

A second orgasm draws up tight through Charles’ belly in seconds and releases in meek, milk ropes. Arthur is quick to lick a rough swipe of his tongue over Charles’ balls and up his length, gathers it thick on his tongue, suckles Charles’ crown until his mouth is full and he’s climbing upwards, grabbing Charles’ jaw and tilting his head back. Something fierce strikes through Charles’ chest as he obeys the silent command to part his lips, rolling his tongue forward, and Arthur, moonstruck, spits their shared spunk into his mouth.

It’s wet and lewd, dirty like a fling in the grim of a back alley, but Charles welcomes it all the same and rakes his hand through Arhtur’s hair to drag him down into a filthy kiss.

“Didn’t have a rag in that bag of yours?” Charles asks when they break away, licking at the come shining in the corner of Arthur’s mouth. He doesn’t know who it belongs to, but it goes uncaring nonetheless.

Arthur grunts, straightens up with a playful pat to Charles’ spread thighs. “Where’s the fun in that, Charles? I don’t hear you complain.”

Because Charles won’t, not when it has Arthur on his knees and worshiping Charles like a deity.

Charles pokes dried streaks on Arthur’s front, the obvious stains that he’ll have to hide from Mrs. Grimshaw when she does the laundry. “Just an idea for next time.”

Arthur hums his acknowledgment as he hands Charles his pants and shirt, watching the strain in Charles’ legs and shoulders as he dresses himself. He doesn’t make it easy, though, always sneaking kisses over any strip of exposed skin, biting anywhere he can mark before the evidence of their reunion is concealed from the curious eyes of camp.

They clean up the best they can, Arthur using water from his canteen to wash away the crusty come on the seats and his abdomen, and Charles vowing to never tell a soul about what conspired within these four walls. If, for some crazed reason, someone enters the coach and notices the scratch marks on the roof, the rips in the backrest, and the uneven lay of the curtains, then Charles will feign innocence. Blame the damage on a family of raccoons searching for shelter in the night.

“I’ll walk you back,” Arthur says when they climb down the two-step stairs, clothes rumpled and stained with their hair in all kinds of arrays. Purple bruises petals on his neck when the moonlight catches him just right, and Charles feels something akin to pride bloom hot behind his ribs, has his teeth aching to sink into tender flesh all over again.

“I don’t need an escort,” Charles says, straightening his shirt that’s now missing three buttons. Hopefully, Karen won’t ask questions as to why Charles needs a repair done in the morning. “I can walk back by myself.”

“Yeah, I know,” Arthur agrees simply. Because he does. “Can’t I just walk ya? Y’know, be a gentleman. The kind that's all chivalrous and shit for his lover. Like those big hot-shots in them fancy films.”

Charles laughs, endeared. He picks up Arthur’s hat that fell in their frantic tumble from the main road to the stagecoach and dusts off the sides before planting it haphazardly over Arthur’s eyes, grinning like a fool in love. Which he is.

He also steals a kiss, just because he can. “You, Arthur Morgan, are the farthest thing from a gentleman.”

Arthur loops an arm around Charles’ waist, pulls in him until they’re chest to chest and Charles has to look up just a scant to catch his eyes because Arthur is a bastard of a man with two inches on him, and that pisses Charles off because what do you mean he’s taller? It doesn’t help that Arthur’s also older than him by seven years, but to have height as well as age over Charles? No, unacceptable. Charles screws up his face real tight, whips his head away from Arthur’s twinkling laugh.

“Aw, don’t give me that look, Charles,” Arthur says, pressing his lips to the prickle of Charles’ jaw, over the lightning strikes of his scar. “If I ain’t no gentleman, then you’re a fool for keepin’ me around.”

Charles sighs and drapes his arms over Arthur’s shoulders. “Yeah, I really am.”

He kisses him, then, slotting their lips together in that way that sends Charles’ heart into a tizzy, whips up something ferocious in his blood that pops and sizzles with every pass of Arthur’s tongue against his teeth.

“C’mon, cowboy,” Charles says, shaping himself so completely into Arthur’s space that he doesn’t know where he begins and Arthur ends. “Take me home.”

Arthur nods, presses his lips to Charles’ forehead before he takes his hand and fits their fingers between each other, holds him steady, holds him fast. They trek back to camp with Charles’ shotgun slung over his shoulder and Rouge trotting beside them, all the while Arthur explains what he saw on his travels with boisterous hand movements and hearty laughter, tugging Charles this way and that, kissing him when he finds a chance.

To anyone else, maybe they do look like a normal couple, like the ones Charles sees in Valentine, all kiss-drunk and happy. With matching rings around their fingers to show for it. Maybe, if they’re brave enough, they can walk into a bustling town with the same comfort they have when they enter Horseshoe Overlook with each other’s hearts held tightly between their palms, with the moon acting as their only witness to Arthur setting Rouge’s reins free before leading Charles to his bunk.

They’re both too big to fit comfortably on the cot, but they make it work, somehow, draping a large blanket over both their shoulders and scooting back far enough to rest their backs against the wagon’s side, their boots kicked off and everything, from their elbows to their knees, touching. Arthur, as observant as ever, takes notice of his things on his bedside table, untouched and without a speck of dust. He asks if Charles took care of his tent while he was gone, and Charles pretends to not hear him, leaning his head on Arthur’s shoulder and tucking his legs real snug beside him.

Arthur kisses his hairline and draws him in with a hand on his waist and affection in his voice. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, Arthur,” Charles mumbles, “just don’t leave for so long next time.”

Arthur hums, tucks himself real close against Charles like he can’t think of a next time.

Before they succumb to the gentle hands of sleep, and before Charles registers Lenny cursing him out for switching half an hour early, still groggy and stumbling his way up the road, Charles thinks he doesn’t want to be normal.

Yes, he wants a house on the lakeside and a husband to welcome him home, he wants the thundering sound of small feet running up and down the halls, screaming at a dog chasing them out the house and into the yard where they laugh and tumble in the grass. The life of the star-spangled American dream. He wants to hold Arthur’s hand during dinner at a restaurant and kiss him under the blinking lights of Saint Denis, love him in public without a care in the world because it’s normal.

They’re not normal, however, and that’s fine with Charles. To be normal is to be accepted, and they’re not, the gang and them. They’re sunbaked and white-knuckled, hardened around their jagged edges and the sharp glints of their guns, the bullet-shaped holes and star-marked wounds of their skins. They argue and they fight, Arthur and him, they say harsh words to aggravate because that’s the only way they know how to live: to harm before you hurt.

They’re not normal, and they’re definitely not always happy, but they’re together, and that’s how they’ll stay. All the time, and all for each other.

#charthur #arthur morgan #charles smith #read dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #i am eepy but i am free #this is also for the charthur enjoyers who wanted them to be a little messy #AND FOR THE PPL IN BACK WHO BELIEVE IN CHARLES BEING SHORTER THAN ARTHUR PLEEAASSSEEE I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL #omgahgase writes

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