#being driven to distraction every time *you* enter the room

[achingly-shy]

“i am a gentleman” (thinking most un-gentlemanly thoughts)

[51faces]

From Shadows to Shining Moments

Dreamcatcher's Kim Bora (SuA) x Female Reader

One late afternoon, sunlight filtered through the tall windows of Dreamcatcher's practice room, casting long shadows across the polished wooden floor. SuA sat alone on a bench, her gaze fixed on the mirror in front of her, but her mind was far from the routine practice she had been so dedicated to. The announcement from the company had come just hours ago: Siyeon, her best friend and cherished groupmate, was taking a hiatus due to severe stress and exhaustion.

The room was silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioning and the occasional distant sound of a passing car. SuA’s heart felt heavy with a mix of guilt and frustration. She had always considered herself to be in tune with her members' needs, but this time, the signs had eluded her. The pang of guilt settled in her chest like a stone. She replayed conversations and interactions in her mind, searching for clues she might have missed.

Her phone buzzed on the bench beside her, snapping her out of her thoughts. It was a message from the company, reminding her of the upcoming schedule changes due to Siyeon's absence. SuA sighed, her shoulders slumping. She felt like she was being crushed under the weight of responsibilities and emotions that she couldn’t seem to manage. 

With a sense of frustration, she stood up and paced the room. The usual energizing atmosphere of the studio now felt stifling, the walls pressing in on her as if they were closing in with every step. SuA needed a distraction, something to take her mind off the turmoil that was consuming her.

She grabbed her bag and decided to visit a local art supply store. Art had been her new sanctuary, a place where she could express emotions that words couldn’t quite capture. Maybe losing herself in the world of sketches and colors would offer some respite from the relentless anxiety she was feeling.

As she walked out of the studio and into the crisp evening air, SuA hoped that immersing herself in drawing might help her process her feelings. She found herself walking faster than usual, driven by an urgency to escape her own mind and the suffocating silence of the practice room. The art supply store was only a short drive away, but it felt like a journey toward a semblance of normalcy.

The store was a cozy haven, filled with shelves of colorful materials and bathed in the warm glow of overhead lights. The gentle instrumental music playing in the background added to the store’s serene atmosphere. The smell of fresh paper and paint hung in the air, offering a sense of calm.

SuA entered the store, the soft chime of the bell signaling her arrival. She paused for a moment to take in the comforting environment, hoping that the act of picking out new supplies would provide a temporary escape from the turmoil she felt over Siyeon’s hiatus.

She wandered through the aisles, her mind preoccupied. As she reached for a set of high-quality graphite pencils, she accidentally bumped into a display of sketchbooks. The resulting clatter drew the attention of Y/N, a young woman who was arranging some supplies behind the counter.

Y/N looked up from her work, her eyes bright with curiosity. “Oh, are you alright?” she asked, her voice warm and friendly. She moved toward SuA to assist, her smile never wavering.

SuA, slightly taken aback, glanced at Y/N with a mix of surprise and irritation. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit clumsy,” she replied tersely, trying to brush off the incident.

Y/N, unfazed by SuA’s curt tone, continued to approach with a helpful demeanor. “No worries. If you need any recommendations or help finding something, just let me know. I’m Y/N, by the way.” she says pointing at her name tag

SuA gave a small, non-committal nod, her gaze returning to the pencils she had initially been interested in. “Just looking for some supplies,” she said, her voice lacking warmth.

Y/N’s cheerful persistence remained undiminished. “I can totally help with that! We have a great selection of sketchbooks and pencils. Are you working on a particular project or just stocking up?”

SuA, feeling a bit of her frustration softened despite herself, replied, “Just stocking up. It’s been a long day.”

Y/N picked up on the subtle hint of weariness in SuA’s voice. “I hear you. Art can be a good way to unwind, though. Sometimes it’s nice to just focus on creating and forget about everything else for a while.”

SuA glanced at Y/N, surprised by her genuine empathy. Despite the store’s calming atmosphere, she found it hard to fully relax. She continued to browse, trying to ignore the fact that Y/N’s friendly demeanor was starting to chip away at her emotional walls.

As Y/N continued to assist other customers, she made sure to periodically check on SuA, offering helpful tips and engaging in brief conversations about different art supplies. Though SuA tried to maintain her distance, Y/N’s unwavering kindness began to create a small, unexpected sense of comfort.

The interaction was brief but left a mark on SuA. The warmth of Y/N’s presence, though initially met with resistance, began to offer a glimmer of solace amidst her turbulent emotions.

The days had passed, each blending into the next, with moments of quiet reflection and subtle healing. The late afternoon sun now cast a serene glow over the art supply store, a stark contrast to the storm SuA had weathered. Y/N moved with practiced ease, arranging a fresh shipment of sketchbooks on the shelves, her movements rhythmic and calm.

As she placed the last sketchbook on the display, the soft chime of the doorbell broke the stillness of the store. Y/N glanced up, expecting another routine visit. Instead, she saw SuA standing in the doorway.

The warm light filtering through the windows caught on her tired features, highlighting the vulnerability that had become part of her recent days. Y/N’s heart ached at the sight, recognizing the depth of the struggle that lingered behind the idols weary eyes.

Y/N greeted her with a warm smile. “Hey, It’s nice to see you. Are you looking for more supplies today?”

SuA returned a faint, tired smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, just picking up a few things. I’ve got a lot going on right now.”

Noticing the strain in SuA’s voice and the weariness in her posture, Y/N gently extended her offer. “If you need any help finding something or just want to talk, I’m here. Sometimes, talking can be a good distraction.”

SuA hesitated, her eyes scanning the art supplies but not really focusing on them. Finally, she sighed deeply, a sound filled with heaviness. “Actually, I could use someone to talk to. It’s been… really tough lately.”

Y/N led SuA to a quieter corner of the store, away from the usual traffic. As they stood by a shelf lined with art materials, Y/N spoke softly, “I’m here to listen. What’s been going on?”

SuA’s composure began to crack as she spoke, her voice trembling. “My friend, is taking a break from work. She’s been struggling with stress and exhaustion, and it’s been taking a toll on me, I feel like I’ve failed her. I should have been more aware, more supportive.”

Y/N listened with empathy, her heart aching for SuA. “It sounds like you’re carrying a lot of responsibility. It’s hard when you feel like you haven’t done enough for someone you care about.”

SuA’s eyes filled with tears as she continued, her voice breaking. “I’ve always been the mood maker at my job, the one who lifts everyone’s spirits. I feel like I’m supposed to be strong and keep everyone positive, but now… now I’m the one who feels like I’m falling apart. It makes me feel like I’ve lost my value as a person. If I can’t even support my friend when she needs me the most, then what good am I?”

Her voice trembled with raw emotion, and Y/N gently placed a comforting hand on her arm. “You’ve been doing your best, and that’s all anyone can ask for. Sometimes, even when we try hard to help, we can’t control everything. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed and to admit that you’re struggling.”

SuA looked at Y/N, her face a mixture of sadness and relief. “I feel so guilty for not being able to handle everything. I’ve always been the one everyone relies on, It’s hard to accept that I can’t always be the strong one.”

Y/N’s voice was soft but reassuring. “It’s important to remember that you’re human, too. You have limits, and it’s okay to acknowledge that. Taking care of yourself doesn’t mean you’re failing anyone. It means you’re being honest about what you can handle.”

SuA’s tears finally spilled over, and she wiped them away with the back of her hand. “Thank you for listening. I didn’t expect to break down like this, especially not to someone I barely know. But it helps to have someone who’s willing to listen and understand.”

Y/N smiled gently, her eyes full of understanding. “Sometimes, just sharing what you’re going through can make a huge difference. I’m glad I could be here for you. If you ever need to talk more or just need a distraction, don’t hesitate to come by.”

As Y/N rang up SuA’s supplies, the atmosphere between them felt lighter, though SuA still carried the weight of her struggles. SuA offered a small, appreciative smile. “Thanks, Y/N. I really needed this. It feels like a weight has been lifted, even if just a little. I'm SuA by the way, I should have mentioned it sooner, I'm also an idol”

Y/N chuckles, "Ah that's why you look so familiar, I've probably seen you on TV or something, Thank you for trusting me with that information."

She watched SuA leave, feeling a deep sense of fulfillment. The connection they had made, even in such a brief encounter, was significant. Y/N was glad to have offered some comfort and understanding during SuA’s difficult time.

A few weeks had passed since SuA’s last visit to the art supply store. The rain had been replaced by crisp autumn air, and the store had a fresh, vibrant feel with seasonal displays. Y/N was busy arranging new canvases when the doorbell chimed, signaling SuA’s arrival.

Y/N looked up and smiled warmly. “Hey, SuA! It’s good to see you again. How have you been?”

SuA returned the smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hi, Y/N. I’ve been okay. Just… trying to manage. I came by for some more supplies and, well, I guess I could use a bit of company.”

Y/N guided SuA to the art supplies, noting the tiredness in her eyes and the way her shoulders seemed to carry a heavy burden. “Of course. Feel free to take your time. If you want to talk, I’m here.”

As they walked through the aisles, SuA seemed to be seeking a moment of normalcy amidst her ongoing struggles. Y/N watched her with concern, sensing that SuA was wrestling with something deeper.

SuA finally picked out a few items, her hands lingering on a set of pastels. “I’ve been performing and doing interviews without Siyeon, and it’s been really hard. It feels like a part of me is missing.”

Y/N listened intently, giving SuA the space to share her feelings. “I can imagine how difficult that must be. Siyeon must have been such an important part of your performances and interviews. How are you managing without her?”

SuA’s gaze was distant as she spoke. “It’s not just the performances or interviews; it’s the little things too. The inside jokes, the shared glances that we used to have. It’s like a void that nothing can fill. When we’re on stage or in interviews, it feels like a piece of me is left behind.”

Y/N nodded, trying to empathize with SuA’s experience. “It must be incredibly tough to navigate those moments without her support. It’s hard when someone who understands you so well isn’t there by your side.”

SuA sighed deeply, her frustration evident. “I feel like I’m constantly putting on a brave face, but it’s exhausting. The fans expect us to be the same as always, but behind the scenes, it feels like everything is falling apart. I’m trying to hold it together, but it’s hard to ignore the emptiness.”

Y/N reached out, placing a reassuring hand on SuA’s arm. “It’s okay to acknowledge that it’s hard. You don’t have to be perfect all the time, and it’s understandable to feel a sense of loss when someone so important isn’t there.”

SuA’s eyes welled up with tears, her vulnerability surfacing. “I’ve been trying to stay strong for the group and for the fans, but inside, I’m struggling. I miss the comfort and support that Siyeon brought into my life. It’s like I’m performing half of myself.”

Y/N gave SuA a comforting smile. “It’s important to take care of yourself too. It’s okay to grieve the changes and feel the loss. Your emotions are valid, and expressing them is a great start to heal.”

SuA’s shoulders relaxed slightly as she absorbed Y/N’s words. “Thank you for understanding. It’s hard to find someone who really listens and gets what I’m going through. Talking with you helps me see that I’m not alone in this.”

Y/N’s voice was gentle but encouraging. “I’m glad I can be here for you. My door will always be open, feel free to come by. You don’t have to face this alone.”

SuA nodded, her expression softening. “I really appreciate your support. It means more than you know.”

As SuA prepared to leave, Y/N felt a renewed sense of connection. The bond they had forged was deeper, and Y/N was grateful for the opportunity to offer comfort and understanding during SuA’s challenging time.

With a final smile and a promise to stay in touch, SuA left the store, feeling a bit lighter. Y/N watched her go, hoping that their conversation had made a meaningful difference.

Raindrops beat steadily against the window, creating a soothing rhythm that contrasted with the warmth inside the store. SuA stepped in, her rain-drenched coat clinging to her, and the gentle jingle of the doorbell marked her arrival. Y/N glanced up from behind the counter, her eyes lighting up at the sight of SuA.

“Hi, SuA,” Y/N greeted with a smile. “It’s really coming down out there. What brings you in today?”

SuA attempted to sound casual, though the anxiety in her voice betrayed her. “Just needed to pick up some art supplies. I’ve run low on a few things and thought I’d get them now.”

Y/N nodded, setting aside her tasks to help. “Sure thing. Let me get that for you.”

As Y/N gathered the requested items, SuA watched the rain streaming down the window, feeling a mix of nervousness and determination. She wasn’t really here for the supplies; she was here to see Y/N. The past few conversations they had made SuA realize just how much she had come to rely on their interactions for comfort and distraction from her mounting stress.

Once Y/N had prepared the supplies, she offered, “We still have some time before closing. How about a cup of tea? It’s been a quiet day, and it might be nice to relax for a bit.”

SuA smiled faintly, feeling a flicker of hope. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

They moved to the small kitchenette, the aroma of brewing tea mingling with the sound of rain. As they sat together, the warm tea in their hands, SuA felt a rising tide of emotions. The cozy ambiance of the store was a stark contrast to the turmoil she was feeling inside.

“You know,” SuA began hesitantly, “I’ve been feeling a lot of things lately, and talking with you has become one of the few things that helps me deal with everything.”

Y/N’s eyes softened. “I’m glad to hear that. Sometimes just having someone to talk to makes a big difference.”

SuA took a deep breath, her heart pounding. “It’s more than just talking. I didn’t realize how much I’d come to look forward to our time together. It’s been comforting, but it’s also made me realize something more...”

Y/N leaned in, her heart racing as she hoped that SuA's words would reveal something she had been longing to hear. “What is it?” she asked softly, her voice tinged with a mixture of anticipation and hope.

SuA’s voice wavered, and she looked away, unable to find the right words. “I... I don’t know how to say this. I’m normally good at expressing my feelings, but when it comes to you, it’s different. I’ve been feeling something more, but I can’t...”

Before she could finish, SuA felt overwhelmed. Her emotions were swirling, and she felt like she was on the verge of breaking down. She stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this right now.”

With that, she hurried out of the store, the rain soaking her through as she dashed into the stormy night. Y/N was left standing in the kitchenette, her heart racing and her mind reeling from the abrupt end to their conversation.

As Y/N prepared to close up the shop, she noticed the rain outside had intensified. She was finishing up her tasks when she heard a knock at the door. She opened it to find SuA, drenched and holding her art book. The sight was both surprising and heart-wrenching.

“SuA?” Y/N called out, her concern evident. “What are you doing here?”

SuA, shivering from the cold and wet, stepped inside. “I had to come back,” she said, her voice trembling. “I’ve been thinking about what I wanted to say, and I realized I needed to be honest.”

Y/N led her to the counter, quickly grabbing a towel to help dry her off. SuA took a deep breath, her emotions laid bare.

“I’m usually good at talking to people,” SuA began, her voice steadying. “But with you, it’s different. I didn’t want to admit it, but I’ve been struggling with how to express my feelings. I think I’ve developed feelings for you—feelings that go beyond just friendship.”

She opened her art book, revealing a sketch she had made earlier. It was a drawing of the two of them, their figures intertwined with delicate lines and soft shades, a visual representation of the bond she felt.

“This drawing,” SuA said softly, “is my way of showing how much you mean to me. It’s not just about the art. It’s about how you’ve come to occupy such a special place in my life, and how much I care about you.”

Y/N looked at the drawing, her heart swelling with emotion. “SuA, this is beautiful. I’m really touched.”

SuA took Y/N’s hand in hers, her eyes filled with sincerity. “I know it’s been confusing, we've only talked a handful of times but I wanted you to know how much you’ve come to mean to me. I hope we can find a way to navigate this together.”

Y/N smiled, her own feelings mirroring SuA’s. “I’m glad you came back and shared this with me because, I feel the same about you.

Y/N and SuA walked side by side, their hands brushing gently against each other as they left the store. The rain poured down heavily, soaking their clothes and making their skin cling to the fabric. Yet, despite the chill of the downpour, they felt warm inside, comforted by the closeness they shared and the warmth in their hearts.

The lights dimmed, and the roar of the crowd surged like a wave. As the opening notes of their first song filled the venue, SuA stood center stage, her heart pounding with exhilaration. The moment was more than just a performance; it was a celebration of perseverance, friendship, and a return to something deeply cherished. Siyeon had finally returned.

SuA’s movements were filled with a vibrant energy, her passion shining through every step. Her smile was radiant, and her voice carried the strength of someone who had overcome obstacles and rediscovered her joy in performing. The stage lights illuminated her with a warm glow, and the connection she shared with the other members was palpable.

In the front row, Y/N watched with a mixture of pride and awe. As SuA danced and sang with renewed vigor, Y/N’s eyes sparkled with admiration and her heart swelled seeing SuA so alive on stage. The bond they had forged was significant, though the nature of their relationship remained somewhat veiled.

As the concert reached its peak, SuA’s gaze swept over the crowd. Amidst the sea of fans, her eyes caught sight of a poster being held up. The poster depicted an intricate, beautifully detailed drawing of the seven Dreamcatcher members, capturing their essence and the vibrant energy of the group. The drawing was stunning, and SuA was struck by the familiarity of the style.

She followed the line of the poster to its source, and a smile slowly spread across her face as she recognized the person holding it. There, in the front row, stood Y/N, holding the poster proudly. The drawing was Y/N’s work, a testament to their shared journey and a visual echo of the connection they had.

During a brief pause in the performance, SuA’s eyes met Y/N’s across the crowd. The recognition and silent communication between them spoke volumes but remained subtle and open to interpretation. SuA’s smile widened, and a wave of emotion surged through her. The support and love from Y/N had been a constant source of strength, though the nature of their relationship was left to the imagination of the audience.

As the adrenaline of the concert faded, the energy backstage remained electric. Amid the buzz, SuA and Y/N found themselves tucked away in a quiet corner. The distant hum of staff moving equipment and fans screaming from outside the venue created a backdrop to their own world, one where everything else melted away.

SuA’s eyes locked onto Y/N's, her gaze soft but filled with an intensity that sent Y/N's heart racing. There was a tenderness there, but also something deeper—an affection that had grown over the weeks they spent together, a longing neither of them had dared to voice aloud. SuA’s lips parted slightly as if she were about to say something, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she simply smiled, the kind of smile that could break a thousand hearts.

"I can't wait any longer," SuA murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, almost drowned out by the distant sounds of the post-concert chaos.

Y/N’s breath hitched, unsure whether SuA’s words were meant for her to hear. But before she could respond, SuA took a step closer, closing the already minimal distance between them. The next thing Y/N knew, SuA leaned in, her warm breath brushing against Y/N's skin. And then, their lips met.

It was a soft, tentative kiss at first, both of them testing the waters, as if asking for permission without words. But as the seconds passed, the kiss deepened, becoming a sweet, heartfelt affirmation of everything they had shared—every late-night conversation, every stolen glance, every moment they had secretly cherished.

The world seemed to fall away entirely, leaving only the two of them wrapped in the glow of this long-awaited moment. SuA’s hand gently cupped Y/N's face, her thumb brushing softly against her cheek. Y/N responded, her fingers curling into the fabric of SuA’s jacket, pulling her just a little closer.

But just as they pulled apart, breathless and wide-eyed from the kiss, the door to the backstage room swung open with a loud creak.

"Oh," a voice gasped.

Both of them whipped their heads around, startled, to find the rest of Dreamcatcher standing frozen in the doorway. JiU was the first to react, her eyes widening comically as she took in the sight of SuA and Y/N standing so close, their faces still flushed from the kiss. Siyeon blinked, visibly confused, while Handong’s gaze shifted back and forth between SuA and Y/N, trying to process the scene. Gahyun’s jaw dropped open, and Yoohyeon exchanged a wide-eyed look with Dami.

“Uh… what’s happening here?” Yoohyeon finally blurted out, breaking the stunned silence, her voice filled with disbelief and curiosity.

SuA’s face turned crimson, her embarrassment as palpable as the tension hanging in the air. But beneath the blush was a flicker of resolve. She inhaled sharply, steeling herself for what was about to come.

"This isn’t how I planned to tell you all,” she began, her voice trembling slightly but growing stronger with every word, “but since you’re here…”

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest. She shot SuA a glance, silently asking if she was sure. SuA gave a small, reassuring nod before turning back to her bandmates.

"Everyone,” she said, her voice clear and firm now, “I’d like you to meet Y/N. She’s... she’s my girlfriend."

The room fell into a momentary silence as the members absorbed the information. JiU was the first to break it, her surprise melting into a wide grin. “SuA, seriously? You’ve had a girlfriend this whole time, and you didn’t tell us?” She let out a playful huff but then immediately stepped forward to embrace SuA. “I’m so happy for you.”

Siyeon, recovering from her shock, smirked. “You’re sneaky, SuA. I didn’t think you could keep a secret like this.” She crossed her arms but the warmth in her eyes was unmistakable. “But if Y/N makes you happy, that’s all that matters.”

Handong stepped closer, her smile soft and genuine. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” she said warmly. “We’re happy for both of you.”

Gahyun, still a little dazed, finally spoke up, her voice full of excitement. “This is amazing! I had no idea, but… you two are so cute together!” She giggled, her joy contagious.

Yoohyeon grinned widely, nudging SuA with her elbow. “You really surprised us! But to be fair I kind of had an idea you had someone”

Dami, who had been quietly observing, gave Y/N a small, genuine smile. She stepped forward and extended her hand. “Hi, Y/N. I’m Dami. Welcome to our little family.”

Y/N smiled shyly, shaking her hand, appreciating the warmth in Dami's gesture. “Thank you… it's really nice to meet all of you.”

The group exchanged supportive glances before JiU spoke again, her tone serious yet gentle. “SuA, this is your life. Whether you want to keep this between us or tell the world, we’ll stand by you. You don’t have to decide now, but just know we’ve got your back no matter what.”

SuA’s eyes glossed over with emotion as she took in her members’ words, the overwhelming sense of support filling her heart. “Thank you… all of you,” she whispered, her voice thick with gratitude. She turned to Y/N, her hand squeezing hers tightly. “I don’t know what I want yet, but it means the world to me to know that whatever I decide, you’re all here.”

Siyeon stepped forward, placing a hand on SuA’s shoulder. “We’re your family. And Y/N’s part of that family now too. Whatever you choose, we’ll help you through it.”

Y/N, touched by the girls' support, smiled shyly. “Thank you… really. I wasn’t sure how this would go, but… I’m so glad you’re all okay with it.”

Gahyun beamed, practically bouncing on her toes. “Okay with it? We’re excited! You’re one of us now, Y/N.”

Handong laughed softly. “No pressure though. Just take your time.”

SuA chuckled, the tension finally melting away completely. She turned to Y/N with a loving gaze, her heart swelling with warmth. “I don’t know what the future holds,” SuA whispered, her eyes never leaving Y/N’s. “But whatever happens, I’m glad we’re in this together.”

Y/N smiled, her eyes reflecting the depth of her feelings. “I’m excited for whatever comes next.

Later that evening, as they walked back to their cars, SuA paused and took Y/N’s hand in hers, gazing up at the starlit sky. “No matter where we go from here, we’ve made it through so much together,” SuA said softly. “And that gives me so much hope for the future.”

Y/N squeezed SuA’s hand, her heart brimming with love and hope. “I feel the same way,” she replied, her voice filled with warmth. “I’ve never felt so supported and understood. Thank you for letting me be a part of your world.”

SuA smiled, her eyes shining with a mix of relief and affection. “I want to thank you too, Y/N. When we first met, you were my comfort when I needed it most. Your kindness and understanding helped me through some of my toughest moments. I’ll always be grateful for that.”

Y/N’s heart swelled at SuA’s words. “I’m just glad I could be there for you. You’ve given me so much in return—love, friendship, and a place where I truly belong.”

SuA leaned in, resting her forehead against Y/N’s. “We’ve come so far together,” she murmured. “And whatever comes next, we’ll face it together, with the same strength and love that got us here.”

Y/N nodded, her eyes closing as she savored the closeness. “Together,” she agreed softly.

The sound of distant laughter and the soft hum of the city around them created a comforting backdrop as SuA and Y/N stood in their own little bubble of happiness. The challenges and uncertainties of the future seemed distant and manageable, overshadowed by the love and support that surrounded them.

As they finally parted, a sense of peace settled between them. They both knew that no matter how the world changed, their bond would remain a source of strength and joy. 

With their hearts intertwined SuA and Y/N walked towards their future with confidence and hope. The night air was crisp and refreshing, a promise of new beginnings and endless possibilities.

As they approached their car, SuA turned to Y/N, a playful smile on her lips. “So, how about we celebrate tonight? We can get some food, just the two of us.”

Y/N laughed, the sound full of happiness and anticipation. “That sounds perfect. I’d love that.”

With their hands clasped together, they headed off into the night, ready to embrace the next chapter of their lives with each other by their side. The future was uncertain, but they faced it with a heart full of love and a sense of belonging that made every challenge seem conquerable.

[ivystoryweaver]

Decadent chapter 9

prev next || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist

Summary: A company formal. Your red dress. You dance with Jackson. Miguel is watching.

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara from the film Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse x female reader

Word Count: 5.3k+

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, cursing, jealousy, arguing, angst, the yearning, fingering, oral -m rec. creampie, not beta'd

PREVIOUSLY on Decadent...

"What was that?" You asked him, wondering why he looked so flustered. Lyla popped in all the time, although, in fairness, this interruption was a tad dramatic - sudden and noisy.

"I programmed Lyla to...make sure I'm not a dick to you."

Miguel didn't ask about your date. Or hangout. Whatever.

He didn't look up any information regarding your whereabouts over the weekend. He didn't engage Lyla in any off-hours reconnaissance.

He didn't listen out for any office gossip.

Nope, he was an absolute professional about the whole thing.

"How was your weekend?" Your sweet voice chimed as the two of you entered the lab Monday morning.

"Uneventful," he shrugged. "So, about these numbers we ran..."

He kept his mind on the task at hand. He was definitely, for sure not at all distracted by your gorgeous legs peeking out of your fitted skirt.

He didn't stop by your office that afternoon. Or Tuesday. Or Wednesday. He was moody as hell though. Probably hungry.

On Thursday evening, he asked you to accompany him to a charity event on Friday evening. His company was being recognized - the mayor would be there. It was a big deal.

"I'm already going," you chuckled. "Remember, our whole department was invited."

Oh. Right.

"Besides forgetting I'm already going, did you actually just ask a girl to attend a formal event with one day of notice?" You teased him.

He had no answer. Because if your whole department was going, then Jackson would be there. Damn him.

"Is he going?" Miguel practically spat, folding his massive arms over his chest as he stood (safely) in your office doorway.

Rising from your desk chair, you started gathering your items to go home for the night.

"Is...who going?"

His fang sank into his bottom lip - this, you could see from across the room.

"No one. Want me to walk you out?" He deflected.

"Sure," you nonchalantly shrugged.

As you strolled out of the building, you thought the tension in his muscles might literally, physically split his shirt where his biceps bulged. He must be starving: what else could have him this agitated?

He said nothing else until you were outside the main entrance.

"Get in," he ordered, nodding to his car. "We'll take you."

"It’s okay. I - "

"Are we going to have this damn argument every night?" He huffed, referring to the fact that his driver had driven you home every evening this week. The ride you had taken with Miguel last Friday - the night you were almost certain he was going to kiss you - had spawned a bit of a new tradition.

"Just get in," he added, a little softer.

So you did. You always wanted to be around Miguel, any chance you could get. But his hunger thing was really getting to a breaking point. And there was no winning with him. If you expressed your concerns, then he accused you of not staying objective about his condition. Or assumed you were asking him to feed on you. But if he didn't feed soon, he was going to quite literally tear someone's head off.

Plus you had to deal with his grumpy ass every single day. Enough was enough.

So as you sat in the back of his car, beside him, his leg tapping impatiently, you tried to figure out how to broach the topic.

"Miguel?" You spoke his name softly, initially hoping to stay as far away from an argument as possible.

If he heard you, he didn't answer, staring straight ahead, practically vibrating with tension.

Slowly stretching your fingers out, you tentatively brushed his forearm, bare where he'd rolled his sleeves up to his elbows.

He flinched. "What?" He snapped, jerking his arm away, as if your touched burned his skin.

"I'm sorry," you squeaked, withdrawing your hand, your eyes wide and worried.

His jaw clenched as his eyes flashed red.

Right then, the Don't-Be-a-Dick Lyla alarm sounded, which he quickly silenced, muttering, "Shut the fuck up," and, "I wasn't doing anything," in the process.

You gave him a moment to collect himself before you spoke again - this time without touching him.

"Are you all right?" You softly asked, gazing at his profile. His hair was disheveled - dark waves carelessly falling over his eyes. His strong jawline twitched and he was breathing rather dramatically through his nose.

"Fine," he muttered, not even sparing you a glance. "Almost there."

"Can't wait to get rid of me?" You shot back. "Then why did you ask me to get in? I could've taken the train if I'm such a pain in your ass."

He didn't answer.

"And you asked me to the gala tomorrow night? Are you serious?" So maybe you were picking a fight, which was a terrible idea. Then again, was it starting a fight or just expressing yourself? You'd always been a blunt person - it was one of the first things Miguel admired about you. You were sick of stifling your opinions in hopes of not pissing him off.

That was bullshit abusive behavior and you were not going to stay in that cycle with him - walking on eggshells like a victim.

Besides that - you weren't actually afraid of him. You liked all the unhinged and violent things he'd done to you. You wanted that side of him too. It was Miguel who could not accept himself, and had been punishing you for it.

Well you were fucking done.

"I didn't realize you already had a date when I asked," he coolly responded, completely throwing you for a loop with his change of attitude.

"A date - what? What are you talking about?"

He finally granted you a glance, briefly, before turning back to stare out the car window. "Jackson. You're going with him, right?"

You scoffed. "What the hell gave you that idea?"

"You didn't say yes to me," he reasoned, more with himself than by actually conversing intelligently with you. "And he's in your department, so...I guess he asked you already."

It took you a moment to digest how incredibly thick your brilliant boss was being. "I'm sorry...what? First of all, I didn't say no to you. I just said I'm already going to the event."

Shifting in your seat, you turned your body to face him. "And secondly, you're assuming that a woman who says no to you must have another date? I am perfectly capable of taking myself to the gala. Or going with a friend, or another co-worker. I don't need a man to take me."

Miguel rolled his eyes, turning to to face you. "Are you done?" he asked, infuriatingly. "Because I just wanted to ask you to save me a dance. Unless you had a date."

That comment left you a little speechless. But he wasn't getting out of this so easily. "I'm not worried about the gala anyway. I'm worried about you." Reaching for his arm again, you squeezed gently. "You're hungry. And no bullshit, Miguel. I'm really worried about you."

Shrugging your hand off his arm he shook his head firmly. "You're off the clock. We can talk about it in the lab."

God you were going to rip your hair out of your head. Then his hair out of his. And then...you weren't sure what, but he was driving you crazy. His complete dismissal for your concern, combined with his arrogant treatment of you possibly having a date. Your fists clenched by your sides as you fought with all your might not to shout at him or punch him or something.

Finally, mercifully, your building appeared and you practically sprinted out of the car and up to your apartment.

You barely made it through the door when you got a message on your phone.

'I'm sorry. You're right, I'm hungry. I'm trying. I'm sorry.'

Squeezing your eyes shut, you sank down on the edge of your couch, wondering if you should even bother with a reply. Your heart ached for him, but would he ever be able to, or someday want to give you even a piece of his?

You waited so long to reply that you finally gave up, not knowing what to say. You showered and got ready for bed, tossing and turning agitatedly. What you wouldn't give to use Miguel's body for some stress relief. Or just some fun.

After staring at your ceiling for a half hour, you felt your phone buzz beside you.

Another message. Jackson this time.

'Can't wait to see you at the gala. Save me a dance, ok?'

Well, there it was. You were dateless for the gala, but now scheduled for two dances with two different men. Fun. Truth be told, you had a great time with Jackson last Friday, but it did honestly feel like an after-work hangout and not a date. He didn't make any moves, and you didn't feel anything but friendly affection.

Every other feeling you could possibly muster was wrapped up in Miguel O'Hara.

You typed out a quick response, letting Jackson know you would definitely dance with him. Right as you hit send, your phone buzzed again. Miguel was calling in.

Of course you instantly answered. He almost never called.

"Miguel?" You answered with his name, assuming something was wrong.

"Hey. I hope it's not too late," he answered slowly, sounding uncertain.

"No. No, I'm awake," you gently responded, sitting up in bed. "You okay?"

A long silence followed, prompting you to call his name again.

"I'm here," he sighed. "I'm...I...I'm hungry. I almost killed someone."

Your skin prickled with heat. "Did you feed?"

You heard nothing but the sound of him breathing in and out, heavily.

"Miguel."

"I didn't. I stopped an attack - I...I saved someone and then...but I didn't feed or anything. Roughed him up though. He's in the hospital."

"Shit," you huffed, now pacing your bedroom floor. "What do you want to do? You're not going to stay out there, are you?"

He kept pausing infuriatingly long between questions.

"I...I was hoping you could talk me out of it," he confessed, his voice strained and a little desperate. "You're the only person who doesn't take my shit. Tell me to go home. I should go home, right?"

Shaking your head, you laughed out, somewhat bitterly. "I feel like the last person you listen to lately. Everything I say to you is wrong. I honestly can't believe you're even asking me anything."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," he sighed over the line. "This whole...lifestyle change is a lot harder than I thought it would be."

Ugghh, you knew it. "Just come over," you offered, without thinking too hard about it. "Come over and we'll figure it out, okay? You need to get off the streets."

He waited so long to answer this time, you thought maybe your phone dropped the call.

"Miguel - "

"I'm outside your window," he finally admitted, his voice muffled, as if he might be trying to keep his voice down.

You whirled around, glaring at your closed curtains. "What the hell...how long have you been there?"

Even as you interrogated him, you rushed over to let him in, ending the call and tossing your phone on the nearest chair.

Miguel's bulky form squeezed in the window rather gracefully, actually, clad deliciously in his dark blue spider suit.

He held up his hands defensively, assuming you were going to tear him a new one. "I know I shouldn't be here. I'm an asshole, I know. I just...I'm not...I don't really feel well..."

"Come on," you urged, wrapping your arm around his waist to urge him to join you in walking to your bed.

He sat down on the edge, letting out a weary sigh as his elbows hit his thighs. He pushed his fingers through his hair in frustration before resting his head in his palms.

You attempted to ignore the fact that Miguel had come to you for help - that he was in your home, in your bed. Just a few weeks ago, you would already have climbed across his lap and fused your lips with his. The two of you wouldn't have slowed for a second until you were both sated and he was full of your blood.

But now...what could he need from you?

"Let me get you some water, okay?" You softly offered. "Then I want you to try to get some sleep."

Miraculously, he didn't argue, and he allowed you to help him lie back on your bed. When you returned with water, just a minute or two later, his eyes were closed.

You didn't actually believe he was asleep, but he seemed, at least, peaceful. So you carefully set the glass of water on the bedside table and left him alone, trying to ignore the delicious fit of his skin-tight suit.

Miguel didn't actually fall asleep when you went to get him some water. But, in your home, with you, he felt safe. Steady. True, there was the temptation to sink his fangs into your neck, especially if he could have your body too, but he kept his eyes closed, focusing on simply being off the streets, here with you.

His spunky, brilliant, beautiful guardian angel.

He wasn't going to touch or harm one hair on your head. Lyla would help make sure of it, and he certainly didn't want to have her chiming in at a time like this.

He felt terrible for taking your bed, but eventually, you lay down beside him. His heart thundered at the thought of sharing your bed, but still, he remained a statue.

"You're safe here, Miguel," he heard you faintly whisper. "I won't let anything happen to you."

God, if he wasn't a monster, he would roll over and kiss you breathless.

But he remained perfectly still, his eyes glued shut until he heard your breathing slow and relax. Even then, he waited longer, until he was certain you were out cold before he finally turned onto his side.

Tucking his hands under his cheek, he smiled at your adorable, sleeping form. His heart burned in his chest. Sometimes it was difficult to even look at you.

"I miss you so much," he whispered, the words rushing out of him before he could think to stop them. Squeezing his eyes shut, he rolled all the way over and stared at the wall so he wouldn't do anything stupid, either in or out of this apartment.

When you woke up the next day, Miguel was gone. Of course.

But once you got into the lab, he pulled you aside for an unprecedented in-lab personal conversation.

"Listen...I wanted to thank you for last night," he sincerely voiced, ducking down closer to your eye level. With a gentle smile, he went on. "I know I'm not an easy person to work with, but...you have no idea how much you helped me last night. It meant so much to me."

His warm, crimson eyes roved over your features, skimming their way down to your mouth, your throat, your chest, and finally, back up to lock onto your gaze.

"Sometimes I feel like you're my guardian angel."

You were floored. Swallowing hard, you nodded, your eyes wide.

"Of course, Miguel. I'm always here for you. Anytime. Anything you need."

He regarded you with the most tender smile you'd ever seen. "You'll save me a dance tonight?"

"Yeah," you laughed warmly. "I would love to dance with you."

Then he was back to business. You didn't speak about anything else personal for the rest of the day.

You arrived at the gala in a killer dress. Your aunt and your neighbor/friend had helped you pick it out and you were excited.

It was a deep ruby color, like Miguel's eyes. That's exactly the shade you envisioned when you first laid eyes on the gown. It was sleeveless, with a deep V cut down the middle past your breastbone, and a laced, corset back.

If you were completely honest with yourself, you could imagine Miguel sliding his hands into the fabric covering your breasts, or using his talons to slice open the tight corset ribbons on the back.

The skirt was a high-low style, with the front, center hem being the shortest, and the fabric billowing down to the floor behind your ankles.

Since your promotion, you were easily able to afford the dress, after saving a little for it first.

You arrived at the gala alone, demonstrating to yourself, and to Miguel, if he cared, the you did not in fact need a man to escort you around for the evening.

The event was huge, and you had a little trouble locating co-workers from your department, but you finally did, and grabbed a drink in the process.

Jackson arrived a few minutes later and made a beeline for you. "Look at you!" He marveled, reaching in to give you a quick hug. "You look amazing - I could see you all the way across the room!"

You thanked him and returned the compliment, relieved, honestly to see a such a friendly, familiar face. You and Jackson shared a drink before he led you out to the floor for a dance.

You were a little nervous about dancing, but Jackson insisted you would be fine. "My mom made me take lessons for five years," he explained. "I hated it then, but it comes in handy sometimes."

He wasn't wrong. The two of you glided around the floor for a few songs in a row, and you were having a good time. But as the hour drew near for the presentation to Miguel for his company, you started to wonder where your boss could be.

Honestly, you had one eye peeled for him the entire time. You liked Jackson, but the room felt empty without Miguel there. You were dying to see him, and you could only imagine how delicious he would look in his suit or tux.

Not only that - you hoped he would like your dress. You knew red was one of his favorite colors.

You never saw him until his name was called and he was presented his award on a small stage at the front of the ballroom. He was charming and engaging and gave a lovely, but brief speech. You and your coworkers clapped animatedly. He had made you all proud. And it felt good when he recognized your department.

You tried to make your way through the crowd to the stage, to at least congratulate Miguel, but by the time you squeezed through the party-goers, he had vanished.

He owed you a dance, and you were honestly hoping to spend some off-duty time with him tonight, with or without Jackson hanging around nearby.

Feeling frustrated, you grabbed another drink before moseying back to your colleagues. You danced with a couple of other co-workers, and even did some fun dances with a few of the girls. Jackson asked you for another turn around the floor, and you accepted, silently wilting inside at the thought that Miguel wasn't even going to show his face, let alone dance with you.

A slow dance with Jackson came to a close and you decided to go find the restroom. You didn't really need to go that badly, you just wanted a breather.

You rounded a corner to head toward the restroom, when out of nowhere, a strong hand covered your mouth while a massive arm pulled you through a darkened doorway.

Your first instinct was to scream, but Miguel's voice fell on your ear -warm and husky - his breath tinged with a bit of alcohol.

"It's me. It's okay. It's me."

Slowly removing his hand from your mouth, he expected you to turn around and smack him or at least curse at him, but you remained in your current position, facing away from him and simply wilted in his embrace.

"You're here," you sighed, nuzzling the back of your head against his chest. "I was waiting for you."

He wrapped both arms around your waist from behind and pulled you close. "Didn't seem like you were. You looked busy."

You should have been pissed. But he was holding you, so you didn't care. It struck you then, that he would always be the one your eyes would search for in a room. That he was the one who filled an empty room, just like he filled your heart.

God, you loved him. It burned the heart out of you, but it couldn't be helped.

"W-were you watching me?" You finally managed, thrilled, instead of angry at the idea.

"How could I not?" He breathed on your ear, his fingers tracing patterns on your stomach, through the fabric of your dress. "I mean, look at you. You're stunning. How could I look away? Tu eres mi hermosa angel de la guardia."

"I-I thought you might like the color of my dress," you confessed in a rush. "It reminds me of your eyes."

A growl rumbled in the expanse of his chest. "You thought of me when you picked it out? Mi corazón..."

His lips left your ear, attaching themselves to the smooth column of your neck.

You shivered. Was he actually kissing you? "Of course I was thinking of you. I'm always thinking of you." You gasped out as one hand slid over your stomach, between your breasts, to the expanse of exposed skin. Miguel's fingers gently traced your collarbone, the tips of his talons teasing you, before his fingers wrapped around your throat.

"I saw him dancing with you," he growled, giving you the slightest squeeze. Gripping your jaw, he forced your head to the side, exposing more of your neck, which he tauntingly scraped with his fangs.

Your knees gave a little as you gasped for air. "You didn't dance with me," you breathlessly accused. "I was waiting all night for you. But you weren't there. So I danced with him instead."

"Are you sure you didn't wear this for him?" He snarled, slipping his hand back down your chest. "Because his eyes were right here the entire time." As he said the word 'here', he slid his hand into the easily accessible fabric covering your breast and squeezed the soft flesh.

You gasped as his one talon grazed your hardened nipple. "Maybe his eyes were looking," you gasped, relishing the feel of him fondling you after so long apart, "but you're the one touching me."

"That's fucking right," he husked, both of his strong hands caressing your breasts as he thrust into you from behind. Even through the layers of fabric between you, you could feel his hardened length.

It made you moan so loud that he covered your mouth again.

"Shh, baby," he darkly chuckled, nibbling on your ear.

You quickly nodded, indicating you would be quiet and his hands returned to their task. Still positioned behind you, his left hand slid inside the easily-accessible right panel of your dress, caressing your breast, kneading the flesh. It felt so fucking good - you had been desperate for his touch for too long.

As if reading your mind, his right hand snaked down your stomach, over the curve of your hip to the conveniently high hem of the front part of your dress. Without a second of hesitation, and without express permission, he dragged the fabric upward with this thumb and first finger, tauntingly sliding his other fingers over the bare flesh of your inner thigh.

He stopped when he arrived at your warm center. Your warm, bare center. He rattled off a string of curses in Spanish before cupping your mound and growling on your ear.

"You didn't wear fucking panties?" Another string of Spanish followed, but you were too distracted by his hand cupping your cunt, and his erection rubbing insistently against your ass.

"Was this for him?" He spat, dragging one finger through your slick folds, talon extended, although not pressing down enough to tear flesh. You almost shrieked in pleasure as he thrust that finger inside you. "Is this for him too? I'll fucking tear out his throat."

"Unh, Miguel," you panted, pushing your hips down on his finger. "Your eyes, baby. The dress...matches your eyes."

He knew that. You already told him, but he wanted to hear you say the words. "And the rest?" He pressed. "Tell me why you're soaked - why your cunt has been bare all night."

"For this," you gasped, as he slid another finger inside you, retracting his talons and curling his fingers forward. He groaned as you rotated your hips, fucking yourself down over his hand. "Wanted this. Wanted you."

"Good girl," he panted, pushing his cock against the delicious swell of your ass. "My beautiful girl. Always so good for me. Always wet and ready for me."

"Yes...Miguel..." You gasped as his thumb pushed firmly over your needy clit. "Feels so good. Please...please don't stop."

"Not gonna stop, angel," he purred, working you faster, groaning as you rolled your hips so vigorously, you might as well have been riding cock. "You've been perfect for me. Gonna make you feel so good tonight."

His words alone sent you careening right over the edge. Your knees completely gave out, you were gasping and moaning so loudly, you were sure it would draw unwanted attention at any moment. Your cunt gushed over his hand, your walls fluttering around his fingers as he worked you through your release.

You were trembling, the release felt so good. You hadn't been with anyone else and he had been driving you completely crazy. It was such a relief, but it only lit a fire, leaving you desperate for more.

Finding your footing, you reached down and pulled his hand out of your cunt so you could turn around.

"Hold on a second," you instructed, yanking open his belt and unfastening his pants.

"Baby, what are you - "

He moaned out as you pushed his clothing down roughly to his knees, allowing his hard cock to spring free.

"Touch yourself," you commanded, gripping his wrist and pushing his hand toward his cock.

He groaned, sliding the hand coated in your juices over his flushed length. You wet your lips at the sight, sinking to your knees.

He was already gasping for air as you stroked his balls with your fingertips.

"Fuck. Baby...you don't have to - " he started.

"Shhh," you interrupted, wrapping one hand around his shaft and starting to gently stroke him. "Want your cock."

And you did just that, using your grip on him to set him on your hot tongue, waiting until his fiery red eyes locked onto yours as you rubbed the tip of your tongue over his slit, tasting the salty wetness collecting there.

Pulling back for a moment, you relished the slight and rare shred of power you held over him. "Ask me," you ordered.

His jaw clenched, but he wasn't about to argue with you at a time like this. Not with you on your knees, so pretty for him.

You teased him with a few kitten licks to his tip, tickling the base of him with your fingertips. "Ask me."

"Open," he commanded. His version of asking was likely going to be to tell you what to do. "Wanna fuck your pretty mouth."

"Mmm, that's not asking," you playfully chided, fingertips still toying with him. This was dangerous ground and you knew it. "You can do whatever you want to my mouth, baby. You can come down my throat, but you need to ask me."

He roughly grabbed your jaw, squeezing your cheeks and forcing them open. "I said...I'm gonna fuck your mouth." Then he shoved his cock deep inside, all the way back to your throat, causing you to gag.

"Good girl," he purred as you struggled to regain your composure. "Gonna make a mess of you, hermosa. Want to see you cry for me."

You jerked away, gripping his shaft with force with both hands. "Fuck you," you spat. Then you took him in your mouth anyway and sucked hard.

He growled in protest, holding your face still as he started to fuck your mouth.

Fuck, you loved being used by him. As he thrust in and out, filling up your mouth over and over, all the way back to your throat, you breathed through your nose and hollowed your cheeks to make it good for him.

With both hands, you twisted and pumped his shaft - every bit that wouldn't fit into your mouth, encouraging him to fuck your face faster and harder.

He was right - he did make you cry. Tears stung the corners of your eyes, mingling with your mascara to track down your face. As soon as he saw the mess he was making of you, he snarled in triumph.

"Fuck, you look pretty like this, crying on your knees for me. Want you to swallow me."

So you did. With a few more violent thrusts, he shot his hot load down your throat, his thrusts growing sloppy as he emptied himself in your hot cavern.

He didn't leave you on the floor for long. As soon as you were done swallowing, he dragged you to your feet and pushed you up against the nearest wall.

Without a word, he licked into your mouth, kissing you deeply, his tongue lustfully rolling over yours. He groaned at the taste of himself, loving that you sucked down every drop he gave you - his perfect girl.

Wrapping his arms around you, his lustful, filthy kisses soothed into something a little more sensual. He pulled you against his chest, using his strong hips to pin you in place against the wall.

"Come home with me," he whispered, between sweet, soft kisses to your mouth - your cheeks, your chin, your forehead. "Let me take care of you tonight. Need you so bad."

Your senses were completely overwhelmed. You would be lying if you even tried to pretend you didn't wish for a sexy interlude like this with Miguel tonight. But reality was starting to set in, and all the words he'd thrown back in your face seeped into the moment, poisoning it.

"We...I shouldn't," you finally managed, halfheartedly attempting to pull away from his embrace. "You asked me not to."

He knew you were right, but he was desperate for you. The realization he'd had last night in your bed - the sight of Jackson dancing with you again and again...he was at his breaking point.

He kissed you again, tenderly, his lips caressing your own as his arms held you close.

"Will you at least let me make you come one more time?" He murmured temptingly. "Want to hear those pretty sounds you make. Want to feel you squeeze my cock. I'll make it good, baby. I"ll make you feel so good."

"Oh god," you gasped, realizing his hands were already wandering, pushing up your dress. "Miguel, wait, please, wait."

He did stop, leaning down to touch his forehead to yours - your breath mingling with his as you panted. "I want you," you admitted, grasping his arms, trying to focus. "I'll always want you but - you won't feel the same on Monday. You'll shut me out, you'll blame me."

"No," he protested, brushing his fingers temptingly over your cheek, tracing down your neck. "I won't. I need you."

"You don't," you insisted. "Not all of me, not really. You only put up with me for your research. You don't need me. You don't need anyone."

"Mi corazón, por favor," he breathed, desperately grasping at your hips to pull you closer. "You're the one person I need more than anything. You have no idea how much I've missed you."

He whispered your name, brushing his lips over yours. You kissed him back - you couldn't help yourself. His tongue rolled over yours - his hands sliding up the curve of your back. He swept you up into his strong arms, pulling your feet off the floor, kissing you endlessly.

When you parted for air, he brushed his nose against your cheek.

You had a decision to make - your heart and your body wanted nothing more than to spend the night with Miguel, in his arms, in his bed, with him inside you. But your mind was trying to protect you.

next

@deputy-videogamer @toecurlingstories @zephyrixx @wordacadabra @juleshadalittlelamb @thexsanctuaryx @tsukkie-daisuke @minigirl87

[shadowqueenjude]

You must know, Edwina is innocent in all of this, she had no idea. Coming to England, finding her a match, I only wished the best for her. You cannot be angry at her. I am not. It is clear she was as much in the dark as I was about your schemes. They were not schemes. I take it there is to be no dowry now that the sheffields have withdrawn their support. You care about a dowry. It is because of what you just did that the sheffields withdrew it. It is regrettable to be sure. But clearly, Miss Edwina and I have both been misled and it is best to call off this doomed engagement before it is the cause of any more strife. Of course I'd never besmirch her reputation. My mother and Lady Danbury will make a plan. There shall be no plan. I do not understand. Why are you suggesting this? All along, you have been set on marrying my sister despite my every objection, might I add, and now you intend to cast her aside. Why? And do not talk to me of dowries, sir, for we both know you have no need of it. So tell me, what has she done? She has done nothing. It is you. You make the match impossible. But I am leaving for India!

And it is not far enough! Do you think that there is a corner of this Earth that you could travel to far away enough to free me from this torment? I am a gentleman. My father raised me to act with honor, but that honor is hanging by a thread that grows more precarious with every moment I spend in your presence. You are the bane of my existence, and the object of all my desires. Night and day, I dream of you. And what I...do you even know all the ways a lady can be seduced? The things I could teach you. I did not ask for this. To be plagued by these feelings. Hiding from my sister. Being driven to distraction every time you enter the room. Then you agree. It is insupportable. Impossible.

Screaming like a 14 year old girl because the chemistry. THE CHEMISTRY. THE LINES. THE DELIVERY. THE INTIMACY. I CAN'T I LOVE THEM I WANT YOU ANTHONYANTHONYANTHONYANTHONYANTHONY.

[crazy-ache]

Elucien x Bridgerton Quotes

One of my favorite scenes in Bridgerton is the confrontation between Anthony and Kate in Season 2. It feels SO Elucien coded I have adapted it to fit Elain and Lucien.

Elain: I do not understand. Why are you suggesting this? All along, you have been intent on helping my sister as their emissary, and now you intend to cast her aside. Why? And do not talk to me of other opportunities, for we both know you do not have those. So, tell me, what has she done? Lucien: She has done nothing. It is you. You have made this job impossible.

Elain: But I have kept my distance.

Lucien: And it is not far enough! Do you think that there is a corner of this world that I could travel to far away enough to free me from this torment? I am a gentleman. My mother raised me to act with honor, but that honor is hanging by a thread that grows more precarious with every moment I spend in your presence. You are the bane of my existence. And the object of all my desires. Night and day, I dream of you. And what I...Do you even know all the ways a lady can be seduced? The things I could teach you.

Elain: I did not ask for this mating bond. Hiding from my sisters. To be plagued by these feelings. Being driven to distraction every time you enter the room.

Lucien: Then you agree. It is unsupportable.

Elain: Impossible.

Lucien: If I continue serving as Night Court emissary, it will bind me and you together, and I will spend every day wanting you, dreaming of you, dreading the day when my last thread of honor finally snaps. Is that the future that you want for us?

Elain: [exhales deeply]

[heroes-of-olympus-next-gen]

Day 5: Gingerbread house

The one thing that Annabeth takes seriously more than anything else is making gingerbread houses. It was the one thing she did every Christmas even when she was a child, later in Camp with her siblings and definitely when she grew older. Being an architect on the top of the field was a bonus when it came to making realistic gingerbread houses. It was the only tradition that she held onto. After Charlie and Zoe were born she started making them their own Gingerbread houses and she gave them frosting to decorate them.

But her yearly activity turned to a family tradition when it turned out that Zoe, Charlie and Theo had inherited Annabeth’s ability to make gingerbread houses. Zoe especially was putting her on a run for her money. Which could only mean one thing; family Gingerbread competition that Lana and Percy would decide which one was the best.

“Don’t you think gingerbread houses with gingerbread men in them are kinda morbid? I mean, it’s a house made out of flesh.” Charlie said after he watched Zoe put Gingerbread men outside her house.

“They’ll be fine. It isn’t that morbid.” Zoe said and took a better look at her house. “Is it morbid, Teddy?” She asked her younger brother who had been awfully quiet for the past hour, busy putting together his masterpiece.

“The whole thing is a bit morbid if you think about it. Globalisation and us commercialising the holidays.” Theo replied.

“Boo, you’re ruining the Christmas spirit.” Zoe claimed as the kitchen door opened.

“Hey! You aren’t supposed to be here!” Theo said as Bianca entered.

“Hi bestie.”

“I am not a judge. I came for moral support.” She explained as she left four coffees on a chair. “I even brought you all coffee.”

“Thanks, Bee.” Charlie said trying not to get distracted by his girlfriend. Theo noticed that which only made him reply, “Actually, you can stay. For as long as you want.”

“I’ll go sit with Lana and Jasmine.” Bianca said before she went to the living room.

Zoe stopped decorating as she took her coffee from the chair. “How is the house going, mum?”

“I think it might be my best yet.” Annabeth replied as Zoe handed her the coffee.

“I’ll only believe you when I see it.”

“How much time do we have left?” Charlie asked as he was getting distracted.

“One hour.” Percy shouted from the other room.

An hour later, the four of them were done. They hadn’t seen the finished results as they were all focused on their own designs. The winner was going to get to pick the movie they would watch on Christmas and get the huge box that nobody knew what it contained except from Percy, Lana and Bianca.

“Can we come inside?” Lana asked, annoyed that she couldn’t come in the kitchen for four hours.

“Yes, love.” Annabeth replied as her twelve-year-old daughter marched inside.

“Who’s presenting the houses?” Percy asked. Theo, Zoe, and Charlie turned to Bianca.

“So, that’s why I’m here.” Bianca said in a knowing tone. “I thought we were going shopping.”

“We are. After you present the houses and mum gets crowned winner for the hundredth time.” Zoe replied.

“Okay, then.”

Theo had gone with a futuristic design and Charlie with a New York townhouse. Both very impressive, but they couldn’t reach Zoe’s or Annabeth’s designs. Zoe had baked a Victorian mansion with crazy details. And Annabeth? She had made a gingerbread version of their home. Down to the last doorknob, everything was identical to their own.

“I think it’s a draw.” Lana said after she had talked about it with Percy. “Between mum and Zoe.”

“I think Zoe should win.” Annabeth rebutted.

“What?”

“Really?”

“Mum, no. It’s fine. My feelings won’t get hurt if I don’t win. I know that I’m always a year closer to winning.” Zoe said smiling. Annabeth knew she meant it. She was the biggest fighter out of her kids. The most resilient and goal driven.

“I know your feelings won’t get hurt. But if you want to lose so you can beat me fair and square with a big gap between the two houses, I’m on your side.” Annabeth replied.

“I just want to see what’s in the big box.” Zoe whispered.

“You can open it instead of me.”

“I won’t take away your joy.”

“Speaking of joy. Does anyone else want to get a hammer and eat my house.” Theo suggested.

“Everyone knows you’re not actually supposed to eat the gingerbread house. Those things are stale as hell.” Charlie replied.

“I am getting the hammer.”

“Not until Christmas you aren’t.”  Percy declared.

“Anyway. Some of us have to get their Christmas shopping done.” Zoe said as she motioned Bianca and Charlie to stand up.

“Do you have money?” Annabeth asked.

“Yes, the video games pay well.” Charlie replied. For the past three months, he had been coding for a company and had even pitched them a video game idea, which gave him some money to have except from his allowance.

“What are you getting for Bianca?” Lana asked.

“That’s a secret.” Charlie replied. “Who is driving?”

“I am.” Bianca took out her car keys. “Bye!”

“Drive safely!” Percy told them as the door closed.

“I am going upstairs.” Lana told them.

“Okay, darling.”

A few seconds the kitchen got too quiet. “I never thought you would let Zoe win.” Percy stated.

“She’s going to outsmart me. Any day now. And I’m proud of that. Because we made it happen. I mean she got in Early Decision for MIT. They rejected me both early and regular decision. I am preparing myself. But I can’t not be overly excited about her. She’s my baby.”

“Can you believe it that this time next year, Zoe and Charlie will be coming home from college?”

“I can’t. It feels like yesterday when we were in the old apartment, celebrating their first Christmas.”

[honorhearted]

"I don't think there is a single thing in the world you could do to disappoint me, Benjamin Tallmadge."

He snorted. "Well, I certainly hope you'll remember this moment when you are, in fact, disappointed in me in the future. I'm quite the over-achiever, after all."

Penelope spoke of a son following in his footsteps, and despite the leap in his chest at such a thought, it was soon soured as Benjamin drifted to thinking of war, of destruction and pain and death, and his shoulders curled inward. "I should hope not," he murmured. "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not share my stories with our children... I fought so they could be free, so they could be happy, and I don't wish for them to know any of the pain I've endured. Not even a moment."

Penelope, thankfully, seemed quite content to continue teasing him, so Benjamin latched on to the much lighter fare of conversation. With a snort, he asked, "How can I not compliment you? That seems like a double-edged sword, and I'm not about to risk displeasing my betrothed. Unless, of course, it leads to more untoward requests."

Penelope giggled, leaning into his touch with a gentle incline of her neck. "If leaving you now is so difficult, I can't imagine how hard it will be once we are properly wed."

"We'll never leave the house," Benjamin agreed, chuckling. "And if anyone trespasses during our honeymoon, I'll be certain to greet them with a musket. I think I've earned the right to be possessive of my wife. If they wish to hold an audience with you, they can wait in line." Grazing his lips along her shoulder, he muttered, "Unfortunately for them, I am the only one granted permission to enter that coveted queue."

Penelope hummed. "Do you really think anyone would even notice if I just stayed here forever? Surely, Mama is far too enraptured in planning the wedding to notice and its not as though anyone would miss me otherwise."

Benjamin fought back a groan. "Don't go giving me any ideas... I'm serious, Pen, I'm at the point where I'd rather just kidnap you for a week, and then claim a loss of sanity." He shrugged. "We're already engaged, but that at least would ensure that you have to marry me."

Penelope followed his glance toward the clock. "I suppose I cannot delay for much longer, so this is where we must part. The weeks ahead are sure to be long and arduous."

Benjamin grimaced. "You don't know the half of it...I'm afraid men are the far weaker of the two sexes, so I'll be in the direst of straits."

Turning to face him, Penelope smoothed her palms along his chest with a pout. "Promise you won't forget about me in the time we're apart?"

"Impossible," he vowed. "I'll be thinking of you each and every waking moment, slowly being driven to madness." Dropping a kiss onto her forehead, he lowly added, "I hope it isn't too much to hope for the same?"

--

Within a week's time, Benjamin found himself in Penelope's presence again. Her mother was distracted with God only knew what -- it seemed that marriages of the ton were quite the affair -- and despite his good cheer, he kept pacing around the room.

"I'm so bloody nervous," he confessed. "If my assumptions are correct, Father will be arriving sometime today, and I just... I'm unsure of what to expect." He halted in his restless trek, turned, and then glanced toward Penelope with a low breath. "I never told you this, but I essentially ran away from home... Not because of anything I did, but rather, because I couldn't face the pain of losing my brother. So I did the cowardly thing, and I left my father all alone."

Shoulders hunkering, Benjamin looked down at his boots in shame. "I've written to Father, of course -- I'm not that cold-blooded -- but I imagine he must still be hurt. And I want him to love you so very much, but...what if I've already ruined everything before it's even had a chance to begin?"

If I'd known from the start how we would've ended up, I'm not so certain I would have ever been a gentleman.

"I find that hard to believe. Even in the throes of passion, you're a perfect gentleman." Pen quirked her lips into a sweet smile, a renewed flush creeping onto her cheeks. She knew she was lucky to have found someone like Ben, and that such a someone loved her as intensely as she loved them. Pen had nearly accepted the fact that her life would most likely be devoid of love. She might learn to love a husband, if she had been fortunate enough to find a man willing to marry her, but she had never expected to find a love match. And yet she had been proved wrong time and time again.

"Yes, actually." She teased, arching her brows in defiance. "I would like you to reenact the story of the handsome, charming foreign soldier who seduces the insipid wallflower with his smile and devilishly sharp wit. Are you familiar with that one?" Perching her hands on her hips, she tried to maintain a neutral expression but she found it hard when her body was still thrumming with electricity. "I don't think there is a single thing in the world you could do to disappoint me, Benjamin Tallmadge."

You know I love it when you give commands. Pen bit at the inside of her cheek to suppress a grin. She'd been told on multiple ocassions that she had a tendency to be too bossy. She liked to be in charge of things, especially when so much of her life seemed to be entirely out of her control. Whistledown had afforded her the luxury of controlling the narrative of scandals in the ton, but there were often times her pride spilled over.

"Is that so? I do enjoy giving commands every once in a while. I think it runs in the family. Perhaps, one day, a son of ours will follow in their father's footsteps. Though, I wouldn't mind if they decided to become little poets and authors instead."

Although she knew she would support her children in whatever endeavors they found themselves thrown into, Pen wasn't entirely eager to imagine her sons off to war. Even so, she refused to dwell on such a thing. Those were matters for the future, problems to be dealt with when they arose. For now, Pen was satisfied with living in the moment and planning for the near future instead.

"You must not give me so many compliments this soon. I'll hardly have any motivation to do better if you spoil me too much. Lucky for you, I'm a dutiful student."

Pen let out a soft giggle, reaching up to rest her hands on his arms. The idea of going a single day without him was tortuous, even though she knew it would be worth the wait. If they were to behave properly, it could be weeks until she felt his arms around her again. She was sure she would go insane in that much time, but at least she would be able to relish in the memory of him until then. The idea of a special marriage license was terribly tempting, but Pen knew that it would be near impossible to get. A lady of the ton marrying a foreigner was not likely to earn a favorable compliance by Her Majesty. Instead, she resigned herself to her fate. If nothing else, it would prove to be a good practice of patience.

"If leaving you now is so difficult, I can't imagine how hard it will be once we are properly wed." She sighed, nuzzling into his touch. Although Pen was determined to not be an overly needy or nagging wife, she had a feeling she would be following him around like a puppy for most of the honeymoon--and long after, as well. She had spent her entire life searching for a place to belong and now that she'd finally found it in Ben's arms, she wasn't in a rush to part with the feeling.

"Do you really think anyone would even notice if I just stayed here forever? Surely, Mama is far too enraptured in planning the wedding to notice and its not as though anyone would miss me otherwise." Even as she teased, Pen knew there was some truth behind her words. Her mother was enjoying the party planning aspect of the wedding and Pen didn't mind handing over the reigns since such a thing was far too overwhelming to handle. All she wanted was to hide away from the world and be with her fiancé.

"I suppose I cannot delay for much longer, so this is where we must part. The weeks ahead are sure to be long and arduous." Turning around to face him, Pen whined, lips puffed out into a pout. "Promise you won't forget about me in the time we're apart?"

[dailykanthony]

"I did not ask for this... to be plagued by these feelings... being driven to distraction every time you enter the room.”

Kate Sharma being forgetful when Anthony’s around ↳ requested by anonymous

[dflogerzi]

Would someone out there prove this wrong please? Because for me... the path is laid, been openly broadcasted, and the players rustling in the wings.

There is a reason for farms being shut down, cattle and livestock slaughtered, trains derailing, a ship taking out a key bridge. Oil dependence on other countries, electric cars that are worse on the environment to build and to rid ourselves of, chemtrails in the sky no longer being denied. Fires, sketchy ones, taking out whole towns, cars, and people... while leaving impossibly the vegetation intact.

And then there is the elephant in the room. Sudden deaths. I am going to skip on over this one fast.. but I lost family members myself. And have a few friends battling as I type this.

The UN, FEMA, and all sorts of organizations are actively funding and participating in the illegal immigration in our western countries. It is undermining our cities, producing crime, waste, loss of resources for our own citizens... and a bleak future that is creating us to become a third world nation. You do not believe it? Go ahead and visit some videos of cities such as New York, Los Angeles, San Francisco and more... and see the empty stores, the garbage piled up, the drug use openly in the streets, and the decay.

The WEF has been fully transparent of their goals for us. I cannot help it if there are those who either do not get past the mainstream media propaganda... or are so party driven they can no longer be objective. I am. Anyone who thinks their party is the one to bring more into your lives and protect your future is DREAMING. Neither party is what it once was. And neither is working for YOU. And even the ones in them with the big talk are doing nothing to save this country. They are all working together, and it is a play that is entering act three.

They are gearing up for this summer. And they are going to unleash chaos that is going to make four years ago look like a brawl on a grade school playground. You best lay in at least what you might need for a few months for your family. Because transportation by trucks and ships may be severely compromised, among other things.

I could go on. I just lost it obviously. I come here to romp a bit, share cute furry beings, art, history, and my love for the things in this world that brought me joy. Also I come for the friendships.

I am happy I lived when I did. Trust me... every decade has had its difficulties and issues. When I first entered High School they were sending our male graduates to Vietnam. We had poverty, war, strife, riots, unemployment, recessions, housing costs. All of it. Every dang decade. But what we did not know... and it was obviously a plan before even President Kennedy's time... was that we are not the plan. In a nutshell. When they say depopulation is a major goal, believe them.

I woke up the summer after I retired. I had been curious about things going on and went down rabbit holes that brought me more pain than I thought I would ever feel. I cried for months at the betrayals. Some of it has been scrubbed now. Not that it matters. Because from what I see... all minds are made up. Few are changing in perspective, and we are more pitted against one another than ever before in my own lifetime.

Seize your days. Love your family. Be prepared. And get right with yourselves in whatever it is you believe in, or whatever side you are on. For the meeting on the battlefield is coming for the West. We are only in the beginning skirmishes.

This was streamed from my conscience. I think I will publish it and even leave it up. I am sort of over the complaining of Harry and Meghan for the day and the distraction it provides. It is true it was the main reason I even came to Tumblr. I am still going to stay for that ending. But they are pawns on the world chessboard.

Love to friends here. Am going to tag just a few who have most likely expected me to blow like this.

@lovelycariad @go-scottishgal14 @oldgayjew @sandiedog3 @missmannersposts

There are more, many more I should tag. Tired now. Forgive me for not proofing this rant. I need to get offline and go feel the day.

Ending with this. Those close to me will know why.

[agrippinaes]

i did not ask for this - to be plagued by these feelings, hiding from my sister. being driven to distraction every time you enter the room. then you agree. it is insupportable. impossible. BRIDGERTON SEASON 2

[kathonydaily]

I know we focus a lot on Anthony’s obsessed behavior when it comes to Kate, but Kate was as much obsessed as him (she was just better at hiding it). Let’s delve deep into it:

It took her just a ride in the park to follow him around obsessively at the conservative’s ball. Like for real, girl couldn’t stop looking at him. She even followed him outside, that’s how much she was obsessed by him.

The look she gave him toward the end of ep2. Like that was a longing look, because despite telling herself she hated him, he was the worst and so on, she felt that damn pull too. And once he looked away, focusing back on Edwina, she couldn’t stand it, so much that she left the room in such a hurry, it almost caused a scene.

Her enjoyment when her and Anthony were alone in the woods trying to retrieve their balls from the mud in ep3. She tried to not let him notice, smiling when he wasn’t looking but it was there.

That damn look she sent him when he was about to propose to Edwina at the dinner in ep3. She was on the verge of tears, guys. And she didn’t touch her dinner until the moment he didn’t propose. Then she ate after releasing a sight of relief.

Her watching with yearning both Anthony asking Edwina to dance and later them on the dance floor in ep4.

Her dreaming of their moments in the woods and their almost kiss in the library at the beginning of ep5, she was so overcome she had to literally fan herself.

The way Lady D. had to literally force her to go on a walk with Dorset and then the moment she realized Anthony was looking at them, she was all: ‘i’m having so much fun! Dorset is the best ever!’

Dorset giving her an hand to help her out of the boat, and Kate NOT noticing because she was completely focused on Anthony.

Kate saying: ‘I did not ask for this. To be plagued by these feelings. Hiding from my sister. Being driven to distraction every time you enter the room.‘

Kate being so nervous during the wedding she couldn’t stop touching the bangle, so much that it fell off.

Kate literally running away from Anthony in ep6. That was extremely funny but also showed to us that she didn’t trust herself in his presence anymore. In fact at the end of the episode, when they were alone again, she basically jumped his bones, kissing him passionately.

Her dreaming of their kiss, touching her lips, and getting extremely excited about it.

Their dance at the Bridgerton’s house. When it was over she didn’t know how to act anymore, so much that she began spinning on her own.

The nervousness when she realized that her and Anthony were alone together in the garden. Again she didn’t trust herself anymore, and since she was nervous she began to argue with him.

Kate saying again: ‘It has been you. It has been you this entire time. Spinning my world off its axis, making me reconsider everything I have ever told myself.‘ We always talk about Anthony’s lines but Kate had a bunch of great lines too.

Kate basically deciding that she had enough and she just wanted him to teach her all the ways a lady could be seduced.

Her freaking out later because well she couldn’t believe what she felt that night and how wild she had been.

Kate asking immediately about Anthony after waking up from her accident.

The way she couldn’t stop looking at him at the Featherington’s ball.

At the end of their dance she wanted to kiss him so badly, despite being in front of the entire ton, including the Queen.

Kate jumping his bones again after the second proposal, kissing him passionately once again.

The fact that she said that her duties were particular important to her after having sex for six hours with her husband, makes me think girl got even more horny after marriage. 

In conclusion: they are BOTH obsessed with each other. And we love to see it.

[sweetesthaaze]

We don’t talk enough about the way Kate says, “Being driven to distraction every time you enter the room.”

It’s so accusatory and I LOVE IT. She said, this is all your fault and she’s 100% right.

[sirowsky]

Well, the day has arrived!

First off, let me just once again say thank you to everyone that took part in this celebration, I've had so much fun with this!

For this special day I've written a bigger story, taking a first stab at Frankie Morales and I'm hoping you'll enjoy reading this as much as I've loved writing it <3

This is Frankie x female reader (called Zoe but otherwise no description) and I'm gonna say Mature rating, because of adult themes and implied smut, so 18+ONLY.

~Trying to escape the whole concept of your birthday, you go for a drive, but it doesn't take you where you'd thought it would.~

Word Count: 8500 Author’s Masterlist Birthday Stories

–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–

-=The Day=-

   It was almost that day.

   That one day of the year when you wished that it would’ve been possible to just skip forwards 24 hours and be free of the misery, but alas, time was beyond all control, forcing you to endure what always seemed like an endless day, that somehow also always ended before you’d had a chance to experience it.

   The day that felt like the perpetual inconvenience to everyone: your birthday.

   You’d long since stopped expecting anyone to wanna make plans with you, or even show up if you left an open invitation for the entire day, no strings attached, no gifts required.    Unless you hitched your celebration onto something like a casual barbecue, preferably at someone else’s house, and made as little mention of it as possible, no one showed much of an interest.

   It wouldn’t have bothered you that much, except you actually liked to celebrate getting older. Getting to live and be healthy for another year, in this increasingly dangerous world, was indeed something to be thankful for, and you wanted to mark the occasion.    You didn’t need gifts or flowers, just a few hugs, well wishes, good food and a happy atmosphere, and you’d consider it a truly wonderful day.    How was that too much to ask?

   This year had no prospects of being anything other than what the last ten years had offered, so for the first time, you’d decided to not celebrate at all.    You got up the morning before the day, packed some food and essentials, turned your phone off and stuck it in the bottom of a bag, hopped in your car and drove out of town.    There was no planned route or specific destination, you just wanted to drive. To not be in your hometown, surrounded by disappointment, just this once.

   The radio was blaring 90’s pop and rock music and you wailed along to the familiar notes of your childhood without a care in the world of who might hear you, dancing in your seat although careful not to lose focus of the road.    When you saw something interesting, you explored it, when your ass got numb, you found a place to stop where there were hiking trails and went for a walk. And when you got hungry, you stopped at any decent looking rest-stop and ate some of the food you’d brought.

   It was freeing. No one else’s thoughts, wishes or needs to consider, no dull conversations to pretend to be engaged by and no one to distract or annoy you.    Just you and your car and an endless amount of road ahead of you.    By 10pm you’d driven almost a thousand miles and decided to stop for the night, so in the next town you entered, you found a hotel and took a room for the night, treating yourself to a long hot bath and sleeping in a soft bed.

   You got up early the next morning, the dreaded B-day which you were actively ignoring, heading down for breakfast with all the elderly or business-minded early risers, before you’d be checking out, intent on having a very good day all by yourself.    The hotel wasn’t that big, but still felt luxurious somehow, and the breakfast buffet was top notch, sporting an exotic blend of warm and cold selections, along with every type of fruit you could imagine, and at least twenty different types of bread.

   The cafeteria was small and so most of the tables were full, but there was a seat available opposite a nice-looking guy, reading something on his phone, with those white iPhone earpieces on.    You walked over there and gently tapped the top of the table to get his attention and when he looked up, you raised your eyebrows in a silent question, since he still couldn’t hear you, while pointing at the empty chair, with a soft smile on your lips.    He looked befuddled at first but once he realized what you were asking, he hurried to pick his earpieces out.

   “Oh, sure, go ahead. Sorry about that.”

   “Thank you, and don’t let me distract you, I’ll be out of your hair as soon as this plate’s empty.”

   “I wasn’t doing anything important, just keeping my hands busy. Please feel free to relax and enjoy your breakfast, you’re not bothering me at all.”

   “That’s very kind of you. I wasn’t expecting so many people to be up and about already, it’s not even 7.30 yet.”

   “No, but it’s a Thursday so it’s probably mostly people that are here for work and don’t really have a choice. Although, I assume from your comment that you’re not?”

   “Oh, no, just travelling for my own pleasure and wanted to get an early start.”

   “Ah, I see. I’m here for a wedding myself, and I can’t sleep because I’m supposed to do the whole best man speech, and I haven’t got a clue what to say.    I was actually googling speeches when you walked up.”

   He looked genuinely insecure about that, and there was something very endearing about the way he dipped his chin and smiled nervously.

   “Speeches are hard overall, particularly if you don’t know the crowd. But if you’re the best man then I assume you do.”

   “That’s kinda the hitch… the guy’s moderately famous so there’s like four hundred guests. I know him like the back of my hand, we’ve been friends for ages, but I haven’t been around that much the past few years, so I don’t know a lot of the people he hangs out with now.    I was actually surprised that he asked me.”

   “Some friendships are cast in concrete. Nothing you can do about it. How much time do you have until this shindig, anyway?”

   He looked at his wristwatch and chuckled, with an undertone of panic.

   “Bout six hours.”

   “Want some help? I’m no Woody Allen but I can put together some reasonably entertaining sentences, when I make an effort.”

   “Oh, my god, yes! I mean, you’d be saving my dignity from irreparable damage.”

   “I’m sure you’d do fine on your own. You strike me as someone prone to self-doubt, but I think you’re probably good at a lot of things, and a lot better than you think, at everything you get into.    But I’m happy to help, regardless.”

   “Uh… are you psychic, or something? Cause that’s pretty much exactly what my mom would say about me, if anyone asked.”

   “Nope. Just observant. You have proficient hands. You can call me Zoe, by the way.”

   “Frankie, and I’m ridiculously pleased to meet you.”

   You preferred to write with a pen and paper when you were jotting down ideas, so you picked up a small notebook that you always carried in your shoulder-bag, before setting to work interrogating the man about his friend and their relationship.    For two hours you traded ideas back and forth, between cups of coffee or tea and getting lost in old memories here and there, and you learned that these two did have a very close relationship, primarily because they were army brothers.

   You also sussed out that Frankie seemed to have had a troubled past, which he’d managed to turn around in these last few years after his wife had filed for divorce, which appeared to have been a really rough time for him.    In truth, you probably learned more about your current company than about the man who you were trying to write about. But he was easy to talk to and had an inviting energy about him, pulling you in and making you look closer, unintended questions rolling off your tongue with the simple comfort of the conversation.    So, when it came time for the two of you to part ways, you suddenly hated the prospect. He'd so easily made you forget what day it was.

   “Well, I should get back on the road.”

   You tried to keep a cheerful tone in your voice, but even to your own ears, it sounded false, as you walked towards the reception desk to check out.    He followed, since he was heading up to his room to get ready, and you wondered what his suit looked like, feeling absolutely certain that he’d look gorgeous whether he wore a tux or a ratty old t-shirt.    There was something very appealing about the mix of devoted father with his boyish streak creeping into his features in every smile, and the hardened military man that knew to appreciate the quiet moments.

   “Hey, seriously… thank you so much, self-doubt or not, I never could’ve come up with something this good.”

   “It was my pleasure. I mean that. It was a wonderful and well needed distraction.”

   He just looked at you for a few beats, and you felt like there was something he was chewing on, trying to decide whether to mention it.

   “You’re not just on a scenic drive through the country, are you, Zoe? You’re running from something.”

   He paused to let you object if you felt like it, but you were a bit stunned, and merely waited to hear what else he’d apparently figured out about you in return.    Had you even told him anything about yourself? You couldn’t recall mentioning anything too revealing, so he had to be even more observant than you.

   “I’m gonna guess either a job that’s smothering you, or family that perhaps expects too much or takes you for granted.”

   You couldn’t do anything but stare at him for about half a minute, until your voice came back.

   “All of the above…”

   His eyebrows climbed, hearing that.

   “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry, that’s terrible. I really didn’t think I got that much right.”

   You nodded, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you held them back.

   “Yeah, nicely done. Your instincts are impressive.”

   “Hey, I’m sorry, are you okay?”

   You crossed your arms over your waist and dipped your gaze to the floor for a second.

   “I honestly don’t know anymore. That’s kinda what this trip is about. I just need to try and figure myself out, before I decide whether or not to take a huge leap and make enormous changes to my life, in the blind hope that it’ll somehow make me happier.”

   A deep breath filled your lungs, making you realize that you’d all but emptied them with that unintended confession.

   “Wow… Sorry, I didn’t mean to spew all my troubles out like that, this is supposed to be a happy day for you.”

   It was supposed to be a happy day for you too, but no need to mention that. It wasn’t his concern and even though you liked him, you were unlikely to ever meet him again.    You made an effort to brighten yourself, meeting his eyes with a smile that you hoped might convey how grateful you really were for the preoccupying task of helping him.    But he saw through it.

   “How far are you going?”

   “No clue. I don’t have a plan, I’m just driving.”

   He nodded once, determinedly, and reached a hand out to gently hold your arm at the elbow, something you knew as a supportive gesture, more commonly used on children or elderly. It seemed instinctive and natural to him, probably because he was a parent.

   “Then stay in town today. See the sights, enjoy yourself, go to the beach. And when the shindig ends, let me join you again.    I’m no youth anymore, so staying up half the night with obnoxiously drunk people is not gonna happen, but a quiet walk through a park or just a milkshake at a burger-place would be nice.    I’d take you out for a drink, but I’m trying to stay away from too much alcohol.”

   “Sure, I’d like that.”

   You blurted the words out before you could talk yourself out of it, and he smiled in earnest, pulling his phone out of his pocket and unlocking it, asking for your number.    You gave it without second thought, asking for his in return, opting to scribble it down in your notebook for now, since your phone was still off.    And once that was all done, he surprised you by pulling you into a firm hug, whispering in your ear while he held you.

   “Sorry if I’m overstepping, but you looked like you needed one of these, and I give good ones. Or so I’m told.”

   His tone was light and happy, and it infected you, making you huff a laugh with your response.

   “I can confirm it’s true. And thank you, I did need this.”

   You parted ways after that, him heading for the elevators, turning back to wave at you while you stood by the reception desk to take care of the checkout, when you remembered his predicament and shouted after him:

   “Break a leg!”

   He rolled his eyes in response, and you stifled a giggle, suddenly wondering when you’d last felt this kind of enthusiasm.

   Turning the phone on later that day turned out to be a mistake.    Sure, you would’ve had to at some point, it was somewhat unavoidable, but it was still disheartening to not have a single message from your family, neither birthday related nor even just asking where you were.    You added Frankie’s number and left it on, in case he’d get in touch earlier than you expected, before getting out of your car at a travelling funfair that had set up their carousels and markets not far from the city centre.

   You had lunch there and then strolled through the markets, buying little trinkets for yourself and talking to random strangers about how the weather was excellent for the fair and how many people had found their way there, even on a Thursday.    A couple of hours passed in relaxed walking among happy people, but the noise got tiresome then, so you left the fair and headed for a riverside boardwalk that you’d driven past earlier, just a few streets away.

   You’d just sat down on a bench among blossoming lilac bushes, looking out over the sparkling water under the clear blue sky, thinking about how the weather was perfect for a wedding too, when your phone pinged.    For a moment, you hesitated to pick it out of your pocket to check it, just in case the message was from a family member. But the prospect that it might be Frankie was way too enticing.

-- Hey, stranger. Bail on me yet? --

   You snorted at first, thinking along the lines of “as if…” but then the words settled into your mind, and you realized that he might be genuinely worried that you had.    You remembered his self-doubt very clearly, and decided not to answer with a quip, just to make sure that he wouldn’t worry.

-- Hey, handsome. I would never do that to someone so kind. How’s the shindig? –

-- The speech went really well, so I guess I’m gonna owe you for the rest of time. But overall, it’s kinda boring thus far. Should’ve brought a date. --

-- No bridesmaids to chat up? --

   He didn’t answer that right away, so you returned you attention to the calm water, thinking he’d been interrupted by something. Which was why, when the reply finally came, some five minutes later, you were surprised to realize that he’d probably just been unsure if he’d dare to send it.

-- I should’ve asked you to come with me. --

   You read it three times, smiling wider with each repeat of those few words.

-- I would’ve gone with you. For the excellent company, and to be able to say that I’ve crashed a wedding once. --

   This time, the reply was almost instant.

-- Thank you. Although, it’s not technically crashing if you’re someone’s plus one, is it? –

-- Technically, anyone that didn’t rsvp is crashing. –

-- Right. So, where are you now? --

-- Chillin’ on the boardwalk. Feet got tired after trudging around a funfair. --

-- There’s a fair in town? I’d love to see it. Can I meet you there later? --

-- Sure. I was gonna suggest the same, actually. Got my eye on a few carousels… --

-- I’m game. I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve clawed my way out of here. --

-- Not that I’m not looking forward to seeing you, but don’t run off on your friend, okay. He’ll hopefully only get married once. --

-- Ironically, he’d probably be the first to tell me to get my ass over to you ASAP. --

-- Then he’s a truly good friend that you shouldn’t bail on. I’ll look forward to seeing your good-looking ass anytime. --

   He just sent a blushing smiley in return, and you grinned widely before putting the phone away again.

*-----*-----*-----*-----*

   The smiley might’ve been a bit immature, but at least it was accurate, because Frankie really did blush reading your latest message.    He wasn’t overly confident about his looks, even though much of his army physique was very much intact, save for the six-pack having been hidden behind by a soft layer of fat.    That wasn’t something that bothered him on a daily basis, more just in situations like this, when he wanted to be as attractive as possible, but there were other things too.

   His hair was always too long and too obviously ignored, usually trapped under a baseball cap to keep out of his eyes, and even on occasions like this when he was dressed up, the only effort spent on it was simply to clean it.    And the scruff on his chin wasn’t a fashion thing, it was a laziness thing. Also, his ex-wife had hated it, wanting him clean shaven all the time, throwing a fit every time he came home looking ragged after a mission.    Since she’d ditched him, he didn’t much care about her opinions on his looks anymore.

   The wedding was fine, overall. The ceremony had been short and sweet, no long speeches or minister droning on forever about the sanctity of marriage, just the simple traditional rituals followed by a short walk over to a converted old rectory, now serving as a venue.    There the late lunch had been served almost immediately, probably because of the groom’s own insatiable appetite, during which Frankie and several others had gotten their speeches out of the way, and now in the late afternoon, the party was starting.

   “Hey, Cat, don’t think I didn’t catch you smiling at your phone earlier. That kinda smile.    So, let’s hear it, who is she?”

   He’d been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn’t noticed Benny coming back to the table and sitting down next to him again, after making rounds around the room to chat and mingle, until a hand tapped the side of his shoulder.    He tried to school his expression to not reveal just how much he was already warming to you, to try and keep things light and innocent for now, since he had no idea if he’d even see you again after today.

   “Just someone I met at the hotel. Gave me some pointers on the speech. Like, loads of them.”

   “See, I knew you had help, that was way too eloquent to be all you.    But I’m glad to see that smile on you, bro, it’s been too long. You gonna see her again?”

   “Uh… Yeah, later tonight. Just casual, you know, don’t make a big deal out of it.”

   “In other words: don’t tell the guys so they’ll show up and ‘help’…”

   “Benny, please…”

   “Hey, listen. You’re my best friend. I got nothing against you going your own way to figure out that whole mess with Cassie, that’s your thing and you gotta do it however you need to.    But… I know you’ve been struggling. This lone wolf thing, that’s not you.    So, if you’re about to take that leap again, you better believe I’m not gonna let anyone ruin it for you.”

   “Damn, Benjamin. You tryin’ to make me cry again?”

   “What can I say, it’s my wedding-day, I’m happy and sappy and sentimental. But I mean it, bro. If this woman’s got you smiling like that again, then you need to try and keep her.”

   “Easier said than done, man.”

   Ben ignored that comment, barrelling straight onto his next question as if Frankie hadn’t even spoken. His way of saying ‘do whatever you need to, but this is what I’m gonna do’.

   “You know where she is right now?”

   “I’ve got a pretty good idea, yeah. We’re gonna meet up at this funfair in town.”

   “Then go. Right now.”

   He was about to argue that it was Benny’s wedding and that he didn’t wanna bail, but then he remembered that those were actually your words, not his own.    What Frankie himself wanted was just to see you.    He put a hand on his brother’s shoulder and squeezed firmly in thanks for his understanding, and then got up and left, not pausing to say goodbye to anyone, and especially not Pope or Will, since that would only pique their interest.

   It was a short drive back into town, and he opted not to text you just yet, waiting to see if he could find and surprise you instead.    It had been around 3pm when you’d been at the boardwalk, but that was three hours ago now, so odds were good that you’d moved on, maybe gone back to the fair for something more to eat.    Once he stepped out of the car, it was easy to tell where the thing was, because an endless stream of people of all ages were heading in, or coming from, the same direction.

   He fell into the crowd, following their general direction past narrow cobblestone streets through the oldest section of the city, before reaching a huge open square that continued into a park.    The square was absolutely filled with carousels and market stands and street vendors, and the rich smells of all the food stands littered around the place, mixed with churros, cotton candy, ice-cream, donuts and lots more, assaulted his senses in all the best ways.

   He figured that the likelihood of finding you among all this, admittedly more than twice as big as he’d imagined it would be, would be next to impossible unless he first contacted you.    But just as he reached for his phone, his eyes swept past the nearest donut-vendor, and there you were, not fifteen feet from him.    That had to be a good sign. Like maybe this was supposed to happen.    He walked over there, reaching you just as you’d paid for your snack.

   You turned to the side, your eyes on the warm, freshly made treat in your hand, as you took the first bite and closed your eyes for a moment, in pure bliss at the delectable taste.    Fucking hell, you were beautiful.    He had to stop himself from reaching for your face and licking off the tiny grains of sugar that had stuck to your lips.

   Instead, he let his gaze drop to the ground for a second, so he could take a breath, only to be enticed even further by the realization that you’d gotten changed.    You were wearing a lemon-coloured summer-dress that perfectly accentuated your skin-tone. And your curves.    He did take that breath, suddenly feeling lightheaded and loving that he was still able to get weak in the knees simply by being attracted to someone.    Softly, he cleared his throat, the sound effectively drowned out by the bustle of the street, as he stepped closer, trying to quell the hopeful fizzle that was bubbling through his chest.

*-----*-----*-----*-----*

   “Hi, Zoe.”

   You’d just stuffed your face with a big bite of donut when you heard the deep timbre of his voice just off your left shoulder, and instinctively turned towards the sound of your name.    He took you completely by surprise. It was only a bit after 6pm, you hadn’t expected to hear from him until maybe nine or ten at the earliest, which was the reason for your stuffed face.    You’d wanted to keep from eating anything too filling until he got there, since you’d hoped that he’d wanna explore the myriad of food-stands with you.

   “Oh… hi. ‘orry…”

   There was too much donut in your mouth for you to be able to speak properly, which put a huge smile on his face.

   “That looks delicious. Go ahead and finish, I’m not in any hurry.”

   You finished the bite but threw the rest of the treat away, no longer feeling the need to satiate your hunger with something so inadequate.

   “I thought I told you to honour your friend’s big day. What happened?”

   “I told him about you.”

   He paused there, still grinning like a kid that had just won a prize, letting you absorb that before he added:

   “And just like I said – he more or less made me leave to come and find you.”

   “You… I-… What did you tell him, exactly?”

   A hint of uncertainty snuck into the corners of his eyes, but his words weren’t tinted by insecurity. All you heard in his voice was hope.

   “He could see that something was on my mind, so I told him about meeting this beautiful woman at the hotel, even fessing up to you helping me with the speech, and he all but shoved me out of my chair.”

   You couldn’t stop the heat that rushed to your cheeks at that, not that it mattered much because blushes weren’t particularly visible on you. Still, it affected you because of how much he was really saying, be it intentional or not.    If you’d suspected it before, you were now certain that Frankie was seriously interested in you, and there was no denying that you already felt the same.    However, you had no idea where he lived, and he had no idea where you were from, and even though you were looking for ways to change your life, this wasn’t exactly what you’d imagined.

   This was all very complicated. But also… you simply just liked this guy.

   “Beautiful, huh?”

   He was in a nice dark grey suit, three-piece with a vest in silvery silk, and a white flower arrangement in the breast-pocket.    Clearly not something he would ordinarily spend on himself, if you’d interpreted his character correctly, but his friend had obviously picked the attire of his groomsmen with a sharp eye for what suited them.

   “Very. I spotted you even in this crowd, so you better believe you look amazing.”

   You smiled at that, stepping closer to him and needlessly fiddling with the flowers on his chest, a mere excuse to touch the soft fabric of his suit coat, and get a better sense of his perfume.

   “So do you, sir. Very dapper.”

   He chuckled, but with a layer of nervousness to it (whether because of your closeness or because he disagreed, you couldn’t tell), and then playfully ruffled his own hair.

   “If only I knew how to wrangle this mess…”

   Then, before you’d had a chance to reach up and ruffle his hair yourself, which you dearly wanted to do, he grabbed the flowers from his pocket and used the pin that held them in place in there, to attach it to your hair instead, just behind your ear.    He smiled warmly at the result, but then quickly left the topic of looks.

   “So, I’m assuming you’re hungry?”

   “Oh, yeah, I was gonna wait to eat until you got here. It seemed more fun than eating alone, even if you’d turned up stuffed and I’d end up the only one actually eating.”

   “I didn’t, and all these smells would’ve kept me craving regardless. But you also mentioned carousels, and if memory serves, they’re not that fun when your stomach’s full.”

   “You weren’t kidding about being game to try some with me? Cause I really love a good thrilling ride.”

   “Nothing too spin-y, I’m in.”

   “Good, I’m not a fan of too much spinning either, so maybe not the Waltzer, but I do love Break Dance.”

   “The one with the space-cars?”

   “That’s the one.”

   He smiled from ear to ear.

   “It’s been my favourite for over twenty years.”

   You almost squealed in delight, grabbing his hand and leading the way through the crowd, even running whenever there was room, out of pure excitement. Not just to go on the ride, but to have miraculously found someone that loved it as much as you did.    How was this even happening? You’d just tried to run away from your family, you hadn’t even been looking to make new friends, and now you’d stumbled on what very well could be the man of your dreams.

   There was a bit of a que for the ride, but the wait only served to increase your enthusiasm, you and Frankie sharing shouted comments in each other’s ears, over the thumping disco music, trying to tell each other what you most liked about the carousel.    And the fact that the loud noise gave you each an excuse to lean thoroughly into the other, wasn’t bothering either of you. In fact, you both took full advantage of it, letting your hands find purchase on shoulders and arms to keep track of one another’s movements.    Once seated, the thing had only just started moving when his arm came around your waist to steady you against his side and make sure you wouldn’t be hurled against the door of the car.

   You didn’t mind one bit.

   Another three rides on different carousels later, and he was suddenly feeling entirely comfortable keeping an arm around your back, waist or shoulders all the time, and you didn’t mind that either.    Your own arm was doing the same to him, especially after he took off his jacket and slung it over his shoulder, giving you better access to his waist.    And it all felt so easy. Like you’d known each other for years, hopping from one topic to the next without pause or confusion, recognizing so much of your own behaviour in the other, and being able to laugh about it.

   You tried out food from half a dozen different stands and vendors, all of which was good, and then moving on to desserts, learning that you both had a bit of a sweet tooth.    At that point, you’d gotten into the games, taking turns trying to show off on the different skillsets, from popping balloons with darts, to throwing baseballs at cans, to the Planet Hollywood cranes, to the big fortune wheel lotteries.    Frankie was actually really good with the darts, winning a large teddy bear which he handed to you with a wide grin.

   “For you, milady. I have won this prize in the name of your honour.”

   You took the bear, which was actually really soft and cute, not at all the cheap crap you’d expected, but still shot a deliberate sideways glance over pursed lips at your date.

   “Well now, don’t think this earns you any favours with regards to my loins, good sir.”

   He didn’t even bat an eye, only grinning wider and shaking his head at you.

   “A common man like me wouldn’t dare dream of such treasures.”

   For some reason you felt like he was being very honest with that response, not carrying on the jesting tone that you’d used, and instead perhaps almost by accident, revealing that he truly didn’t believe himself a candidate to your pleasures, much less your heart.    It was true that you did ordinarily guard yourself very closely against those kinds of intrusions, but you hadn’t even tried to do that with him. You’d practically rolled out a red carpet for him.

   Not that he could’ve known that; he’d only spent a few hours with you thus far.    So, how to tell him that he most assuredly had a shot at your treasures, without making it sound cheap or crass?    You took his hand again, making sure he met your eyes before you spoke, and there was no longer any trace of jest in your voice.

   “That’s a shame. Because I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone more deserving. Of good dreams, or wonderful treasures.”

   Something vulnerable and sweet found its way into his eyes in the moment that he managed to keep looking at you, before his head dipped and his right hand came up to scratch at his neck and jawline.    He was clearly uncomfortable, and you didn’t wanna push him since this was apparently hard for him, so you just pulled your right hand out of his left one, letting it come to rest around the neck of the toy in your arms instead.

   You wondered what had happened to him in his life to make him think so little of himself, where romance was concerned, at least. But this was hardly the time or place to ask.    But then, he surprised you.    At the loss of your touch his head came back up, and for a brief second, he seemed unsure, before he suddenly stepped closer and pushed the teddy bear to the side, claiming your personal space and lowering his head until his face was a mere breath away from yours.

   Your heart leapt into a sprint, abruptly surrounded by his frame, his scent, his piercing brown orbs, turned into hot liquid with the passion that now flowed from him, unrestrained.    Big strong arms snaked around your waist, tugging your body closer, but he kept his face at the exact same distance from yours, asking you to make the choice for him. To tell him if he was wanted, if he was permitted, if he was… enough.

   You closed the distance slowly, savouring the excitement and hope that kindled within him at the small gesture.    He remained steadfast, determined to wait for you to reach him, even though you could see how desperate he was to connect, to taste you and know you in that intimate way that physical closeness could make so clear, when it was a good pairing.

   You knew exactly how he was feeling, because you’d been the one doing these things for most of your life, and it was somehow freeing that you got to be the more confident one this time. That you could see the reflection of yourself in his actions, allowing you to know exactly what he needed from you.    All you had to do was decide if you wanted the same things.

   When your lips finally touched, a brief first contact, careful and soft, he seemed to melt into your frame, as though he suddenly felt permitted to give himself to you. And before you knew what had hit you, a rush of confidence had him glued to you, from your lips to your toes.    He kissed you as though he hadn’t known the feeling for decades, craving and savouring and begging for more all at once, leaving you staggering in his tight grip, barely able to keep up with the whirlwind of emotions that were whipping around inside you.

   But you loved every second of it, and even through your surprised reaction, he could tell, and thankfully didn’t pull back or get uncertain. He continued to shower you in his passion as your body tingled, heated, crawled with want, and you did your best to not try and manage, edit or filter your responses, to let him feel what he was doing to you, in all its raw beauty.    It was harder than it should’ve been, to just let yourself react, but you’d spent your entire life only ever showing what you’d been made to believe was acceptable. Always holding back, so as not to bother anyone, always putting your own feelings last.

   But not this time.

   When you eventually pulled apart, it felt like breaching the surface after a deep dive underwater. Not just in the sense that you were out of breath, but the noise of the fair suddenly hit your ears as though they’d been covered, and the breeze flowing gently over your skin seemed unfamiliar until that moment.

   Your eyes met, equals in their brightness and zest, but neither of you spoke.    There didn’t seem to be any words, but even if there were… what could you say? Where was this going?    There were so many things that had the potential to pull you apart, and you felt as though voicing them would somehow make them come crashing down on top of you, forcing you to leave and never see this wonderful person again.

   Frankie took your hand, stepping away from you, but pulling you along, heading out of the fair.    He walked fast, throwing nervous glances at you every few steps and you were certain that your responding ones were just as unsure, but not because of fear of anything that might be happening now. Your only fear concerned the future. The next step.

   He brought you to his car and you stepped in without hesitation, neither surprised nor disappointed when the short drive ended back at the hotel from that morning.    You got out before he had a chance to second guess anything, taking his arm as soon as he joined you, crossing the street and stepping through the revolving doors, nodding politely at the receptionist before taking the elevator to the floor where his room was.

   It was small and simple, but lightly coloured and setting a pleasant ambience, which was all you managed to discern about it before Frankie stole your focus for himself.    Still without a single word spoken between you, each of you begged each other that this would last. That this wasn’t a goodbye, but a promise.    Just like your birthdays always did, this day and night seemed endless and much too short, all at once, and when you finally fell asleep in the small hours of the morning, it still didn’t feel like it could ever be enough.

*-----*-----*-----*-----*

   Waking up beside you the next morning was the best that he’d felt in years.

   Cassandra had spent the majority of their last year living together, more or less constantly angry with him, no matter what he did, so there hadn’t been much in the way of physical contact between them. Not even hugs, or the odd brush of fingertips now and then.    He’d spent most of that time feeling like an infectious disease or a parasite, that she was trying to get rid of. And in that regard, finally getting thrown out had been something of a relief, because he never would’ve made that decision for himself.

   Fear or misplaced devotion would’ve kept him at her side regardless of how bad it had gotten, and a part of him was grateful that she’d had the strength to say ‘enough’.    Not to say that it hadn’t been rough. He’d been a wreck for a long time after that, constantly worrying about the kids and what Cassie would do about the legal side of things.    It had taken another year before he’d eventually gotten those answers, and breathed a giant sigh of relief that his careful strategy of giving her space without abandoning the kids or making them think he didn’t care about them anymore, had paid off.

   She hadn’t pursued any legal actions against him, opting to talk to him instead, and together they’d come up with a system for splitting time with the kids, which even though there had been some hurdles along the way, was still working pretty well, three years later.

   And now there was you.    The first person he’d dared to bring into this complicated situation, even though he knew that the odds were stacked high against the two of you working out.    What little he’d managed to suss out about you, or more accurately, dared to ask, had led him to understand that you lived far from here, had a troublesome relationship with your family, felt strangled by your job, and that you were looking for a change.

   Laying there, spooned up tightly to you, watching the absolute relaxation in your frame and feeling the weight of your body against his, with the heaviness of sleep, he so desperately wanted to be that change.    Not just because he’d missed waking up next to someone, getting to touch a warm body when he needed or wanted to, knowing he was welcome, but also because he wanted to know everything about you.

   What made you smile? What made you laugh so hard that you cried? What made you cry? And why? What were you afraid of - not just phobias and those kinds of big things, but the little things, the gnawing rats inside your brain that could keep you awake at night?    What did you dream about? What did you want for your future? What kind of change were you hoping for? And what would you be willing to try, to find it?

   He kissed the base of your neck, over and over, trying to wake you even though you’d only slept for about four hours thus far, because he was suddenly reminded of just how limited his time with you might be.    Despite sleeping deeply, you stirred after a mere few seconds, perhaps because you too were unaccustomed to nightly company, and as your body slowly came alive you began to stretch and curl your limbs, while a raspy little purr escaped you.

   “Mornin’ beautiful.”

   “Hey, handsome.”

   Shit. He knew he was in trouble when even your hoarse and slurry morning voice was doing things to his chest.

   “Feeling okay?”

   “Mhm. I owe you now.”

   “What on Earth for?”

   You sighed happily, letting your feet lightly wrestle with his where they’d snuck outside the covers when it had gotten too warm.

   “For the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

   He stilled as he absorbed that, because it made so many little details about you fall into place.    And then he felt sad for you, because if even your birthday was something you didn’t feel allowed to celebrate, and had opted to try and run away from instead, then your family situation was worse than he’d imagined.    You must’ve felt so alone.

   “Belated Happy Birthday, Zoe.”

   “Thank you. It was perfect.”

   “Anytime, angel.”

   That was a big promise to make, given your circumstances, but he wanted you to know that he was willing to make those commitments, even though he was really nervous that just saying that out loud would scare you away.

   “Yeah? So, you had a good time too?”

   This was the moment.    The one when he could decide to exist in the present, telling you only how good he felt with you. Or confess how truly terrified he was becoming, at the mere thought of leaving this hotel room and never seeing you again.

   “Zoe… tell me……… tell me what I have to do to keep you?”

   He felt something pass through the entire length of your body, and for two seconds you were unnaturally still, making him worry that he’d scared you.    But then you shifted, turning around to face him, and there was light in your eyes and a smile in your cheeks that for some reason you seemed to be holding back, even though it looked like you’d come to a decision about something.

   “Just ask.”

   Oh, he wanted to. More than almost anything.

   “But, what about…? I mean, you obviously don’t live here, and neither do I. What about your family? And mine… shit, I told you I’ve got kids, right?”

   “Frankie, breathe. I’ve got three weeks until I need to be back at work, and my family obviously doesn’t miss me, since my phone still hasn’t made a sound other than your messages.    We have some time to figure this out, whatever this is, so for now, how about we just go where the day takes us? Like, breakfast, for example.”

   He liked that. He liked that you could see the inside of his head well enough to know that he was overthinking all of this. The two of you were still way too fresh to even begin making commitments and plans and declarations, even though he really fucking wanted to.    Casual and simple, see where it leads. He could do that.

   “Are you that kinda girl that’s always hungry?”

   “Pretty much, but especially when a certain someone’s been draining my reserves all night.”

   “Hah, well, I didn’t hear any complaints. Plenty of moans, though…”

   He shifted his head closer to yours, intent on stealing a few kisses, but you beat him to it. And not only that, but your lips were followed by your whole body rolling on top of his, wasting no time in letting him know what you were after.    It was somehow even better in the daylight, watching your body move on top of him while the sun turned your skin golden, letting him see the play of every straining muscle as you used him for your pleasure.

   And he absolutely loved that you did. He loved everything about you.

   Yep. He was in so much trouble.

-----

   He walked into the breakfast restaurant holding your hand, but instinctively tugged you back when a minor roar sounded shortly after your entry, closely followed by a group of people rising from their seats and coming towards you.

   Shit, shit, shit!! How had he somehow forgotten that most of the wedding party was staying here too?

   Santi and Will were both howling and smiling suggestively, pointing from him to you and back again as they made their way over, while Benny met his eyes with an apologetic shrug, although smiling just as big.    Frankie cringed, unsure of how you’d take this, just as William winked at him.

   “I knew you were up to something, sneaking off like that. Come on, you didn’t really think you were gonna hide something like this from us, did you?”

   They’d obviously seen or heard about him leaving early and probably pestered Benny about it until he’d told them what he knew.    He shouldn’t be surprised, really, and he mostly wasn’t. Annoyed, though.

   “I wasn’t thinking about you, at all, Will.”

   All three of them sobered up at that, because Frankie wasn’t usually the one to make those kinds of sharp remarks, unless he was dead serious and thoroughly unamused.    Benny was the first to recover, taking a step closer and politely holding a hand out to you.

   “Hey, I’m Ben. I’m sorry about the ruckus, it’s just been a while since we saw our boy here excited like this, and we’re really glad to see it.”

   You shook his hand but before you could respond, Will jumped in.

   “Yeah, sorry. We didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, we’re just hungover and stupid. I’m Will, by the way.”

   Another handshake, but again, before you’d had a chance to say anything, Santi cut in.

   “Truly, our sincerest apologies. I’m Santiago, and if you want us to steer clear, just say the word.”

   Frankie was about to spit out that you’d be hard pressed to get a single fucking word in, the way they were behaving. But you beat him to the punch, once more.

   “Wow… If you hadn’t been so busy falling over each other to make sure I won’t run away in terror, I would’ve seriously contemplated kicking all your asses.”

   He held back a smile as the men suddenly looked very sheepish and he was quite impressed with how much power you were radiating around you, making three beefy and highly trained military operatives cower.    It unbiddenly made his mind jump to ‘that’s mom-material, right there’ and he had to sternly remind himself that it was too soon to think like that.    But then you smiled and giggled, releasing all the tension of the situation in a single heartbeat, making him stare at you in awe as he realized that it was all an act.

   “I’m not that stuck-up, guys, although I will seriously make your butts hurt if you mess with my man. Other than that, I’m Zoe and I’m happy to meet all of you.”

   Frankie tried not to puff up too much hearing you call him yours, but damn it felt good.    The boys laughed with you, and you shooed them away to their table, promising that you’d join them once you’d gotten your food, but he barely even noticed any of it.    He just saw the smile in your eyes. The ease with which you were beginning to fit into his life. The difference between the careful and guarded person that had sat down at his table a little more than 24 hours ago, to the calm and certain and comfortable woman choosing to be at his side right now.

   You handed him a plate as if it was a practiced and familiar movement, as if you’d done this hundreds of times before, and he wanted it to be true. He wanted every one of those hundreds of times to happen.

   “Babe…”

   He hadn’t called you that before, but you reacted as if it was entirely familiar, and that was the only confirmation he needed that he wasn’t about to make a huge mistake.

   “I know we said not to look ahead yet, but I can’t help it. I want you to stay. I want you to come home with me and I want you to stay.    I-It doesn’t mean that you have to, but I want you to know… that’s how I feel right now.”

   Your eyes remained bright and happy as you listened, turning only warmer when he’d finished, at which point you stepped closer and whispered:

   “Thank you. I’d like that, but perhaps we should table this conversation until we’re not in a public space anymore?”

   Oh…

   He looked around, at first befuddled by the sudden reappearance of all the guests that had somehow disappeared from his senses, and then embarrassed by the thought that many of them might’ve heard his little confession.    But then you kissed him, once, short, sweet, and he forgot all about it.

   The rest of the breakfast was actually really nice, since the boys all behaved themselves now and took a genuine interest in you, asking relevant and intelligent questions, and listening to your answers.    And what was even more wonderful, was that you seemed to warm to them with each passing minute, until all five of you were joking and laughing together, any trace of discomfort blown away by your willingness to let this odd little family grow on you.

   ‘I’d like that.’

   You’d said that about coming home with him. Those words sang their own little song inside his head, refusing to be quieted no matter how loud the conversation got.

   You wanted that. You were coming home with him. If not now, then in the future.    And that was enough.

–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–

Thank you for reading, and have a wonderful day, lovely people!

@tacticalsparkles @tanzthompson @marydjarin @idreamofboobear @annathewitch @agingerindenial @tiffanyleen @winter-fox-queen @elegantduckturtle @lovefreylove @shadowolf993 @callsigncatfish @hounding-around @cannedsoupsucks @startrekkingaroundasgard @thisshipwillsail316 @ellie-darling @likes-good-reblogs-even-better @nakhudanyx @dihra-vesa @tobealostwanderer @ophelialoveshandsomemen @andiesturgss @deadhumourist @spideysimpossiblegirl @pedrostories @toomanystoriessolittletime @tintinn16 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @nolanell @bison-writes @dornish-queen @shsoba05 @myfavpedrothings

[whence-the-woody]

In love Kate moments we're not talking about enough:

The tears after he agrees to continue the engagement

The noise she makes after he blatantly sniffs her

Tiny face crumple when they promenade in ep 7

Following him at their first ball

The lingering after the family dance

Immediately asking if he came to see her

Spinning my world off its axis

Being driven to distraction every time you enter the room

I could not allow it mama and how she CRUMPLES

Saying his name first

The bants and smile before he gets upset about the grave

Asking him for a goodbye dance

Going in for the kiss first

Staring at the tulips

Putting his honor and edwinas happiness on the same level

The deep breath and gulp before he proposes the second time

[itsonlydana]

Hello! Could I request a cc! platonic bench trio fic, where reader is fencing and they have to get ready for their first competition and they're nervous and doubting themselves and just some friendly flull w bench trio comforting and reassuring reader? Thank you <3

-🍬 anon

"the hype troop" ➷ bench trio

➛ pairing: c!bench trio x gn!reader

➛ idea: a few minutes before your very first fencing tournament you start to doubt your skills, luckily that's exactly why your best friends are there for you and help you distract yourself from your fears.

➛ tags/warnings: fluff, reader is panicking a bit

➛ an: hellou 🍬 anon! Long time no see, hope you enjoy this one! I´m sorry for not being that active at the moment D:

"I can do this, I can do this" you softly whispered these words to yourself over and over again. You were waiting for them to convince you of themselves, but that effect failed to set in.

From the gym to your right you could hear the moderation of a match, the clapping of the audience as one of the competitors won. In a moment it would be your turn to compete in your very first fencing tournament, and the idea made your stomach turn.

Restlessly you paced back and forth in your small locker room, trying to remember all your training sessions where you had prepared for this day and you knew you used to know all the steps and moves... so why wasn't any of it coming to mind right now?

The only thoughts were anything but memories of training, much more an unhealthy mixture of self-doubt and fears that trapped you in a spiral of growing panic from which you couldn't escape.

What if you couldn't make it? How would your parents react? They had taken the extra day off today so you could make the four hour drive to the competition early in the morning, and you didn't want to have left them driving across the world on this Saturday for nothing. Or your coach who had been helping you improve your techniques for months?

They would all be disappointed in you, you were already disappointed with yourself and you hadn't even finished the first duel yet.

With this growing nervousness, you fell onto the bench in the middle of the room, burying your face in your hands when there was a loud knock on the door and you pulled yourself back up.

You were expecting your parents or your trainer, but when you called out "Yes?" and the door opened, you momentarily forgot all your worries.

"See Tubbo, I knew they'd be in this locker room!" rumbled Tommy, taking a few quick steps toward you.

"We knocked on like four wrong doors because you weren't really listening," Tubbo complained, stepping into the room behind the blond who had pulled you into a tight hug, then grinning at you. "Hi (y/n)!"

Ranboo entered last, immediately closing the door again as well, snapping you out of your numbness in which you had barely noticed the boys' hugs with the bang. "(y/n) old house, that suit suits you!"

Still confused, you looked down at yourself, tugging at the white protective suit with your school's logo on the chest. "What are you doing here?" you finally managed to get out and sat back down on the bench where Tommy had spread himself out and was rummaging through his backpack.

Two folded posters appeared, on which you could recognize your name in neat handwriting, as well as the three pairs of sunglasses with which the boys had picked you up after a particularly hard practice and invited you to a burger as bodyguards.

With one hand in his backpack- how much stuff did they have in there, please?!- Tommy grinned at you. "Tubbo drove us! Your parents gave us the address and time after you forgot, you idiot."

Slightly horrified, you looked at Tubbo, who nodded proudly. "I was scared, though, because I've never driven four hours straight, but we took lots of breaks."

"We almost took longer breaks than we drove." Ranboo shoved his hands into his jacket pocket and pulled out several receipts. "We spent every break in a Tesco. You don't want to know how much stuff we bought."

"I can imagine," you said, glancing at Tommy and the packed backpack. "But why are you here?"

Finally finding what he was looking for, Tommy held out a blue lunch box to you. "We'd never miss your first competition, would we? Here, Tubbo already ate one of the muffins, so you know they're not poisoned or anything."

"If you hadn't said it, I wouldn't have thought of it, now I'm scared" You opened the lunch box and examined the three leftover muffins and the crumpled paper, with the crumbs as proof that there were once four. Still, you smiled at the boys, the effort that was behind those muffins warming your heart and taking away some of the excitement. "Thank you guys, but I don't think I can get one down right now," you admitted, closing the box and playing with the cap a bit, distracting yourself with the regular click and busyness of your fingers.

"Are you too excited?"

You looked up at Ranboo leaning against the wall, nodding slowly at him.

Beside you, Tommy stirred, exhaling audibly. "Don't be, you're fantastic! How long have you been training now? Five months?"

"Six! They signed up for the tournament before my birthday party," Tubbo corrected, which only made Tommy shake his head harder.

"Six months, (y/n). You don't train for six months and not get better"

"Yeah but-" you started, but were interrupted by Ranboo kicking his foot lightly against yours, "No but. Every time we picked you up or watched you train you were so good, you never made a mistake twice and learned from suggestions for improvement every time."

Tubbo, who had sat down on the floor in front of the door to the hall, nodded, letting the mop of dark hair bob up and down with the wild movement and fall in front of his eyes. "You're the best from your school. Look, none of the others had dared to sign up, you've not only been good, but confident enough to know what a talent you have. Otherwise, you never would have signed up. You will kick those guys in the butt!"

Admitting to yourself that your friends were right was almost a harder pill to swallow than your fear of failing. For hours each week you had done your best to memorize every position, every move, every action, every technique. There had been many afternoons when you had practiced with the boys and sticks.

You knew you could fence, you knew how to hold your foil, how to score points, and yet-.

"And what if the others are better?" you asked in an agonized voice, putting the lunchbox beside you and your gaze falling on your foil. You had cleaned it carefully last night and had it on your lap the whole car ride, so that nothing could happen.

Tommy jumped up, using his outstretched arm as a weapon, and swung it in a wide motion toward Ranboo, shouting "Ha!" and "Allez!" over and over during the brief attack. Ranboo's attempts to duck away from the blond finally made you laugh, a relieved laugh that lifted your worries off your shoulders.

As Ranboo was cheered on by Tubbo and ran in circles around the bench, you relaxed. Watching your friends chase and jab each other with their index fingers was too funny a sight and one you needed just then.

"You just do a fleche," Tommy gasped, jumping up next to you on the bench and catching Ranboo on his shoulder.

"Flèche," you corrected the blond laughing, careful to pronounce it with the proper French emphasis "That move is forbidden in tournaments because you're not allowed to cross your legs. You're supposed to do a flunge instead, that is, make a jump" Startled at your own words, you widen your eyes. "I remember the techniques!"

The distraction of Tubbo, Ranboo and Tommy must have cleared the block in your brain and now that you were much more relaxed it was much easier for you to think of your steps and your coach's tips.

But most of all, you looked forward to the competition with much more positive excitement instead of fear.

How could you lose when you had your three boys sitting on the benches?

[omg-imagine]

Distraction

Pairing: Johnny Silverhand x female!V

Summary: Johnny distracts V the best way he knows how.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: language, smut (oral + rough sex, choking)

A/N: Please don’t mind the weak plot, this was just an excuse to write p*rn featuring the only character I want to romance in the game but can’t. Also, for the sake of this fic, let’s just say he can touch V and vice versa :)) Hope you enjoy!

V was pissed.

No, she was beyond pissed.

And when V’s beyond pissed, she’s sure to let the whole fucking world know.

“Tone it down, princess,” Johnny cuts in once he’s heard enough of her long-winded rant.

V stops her relentless pacing around the apartment and shoots a menacing glare towards the rocker.

“I warned you not to take that job from the start. Now, look at you, bruised up from head to toe, and cheated out of your eddies.”

“That son of a bitch promised me half the cut,” V recalls bitterly, her chest heaving from the fierce anger spreading all throughout. “I’m gonna make sure Cruz regrets asking me for help.”

The merc stalks off to her stash, muttering low under her breath how she plans on raising hell the next time she crosses paths with him. As V polishes her guns (something she typically does to calm herself), Johnny approaches the small room to the side with the same cocky attitude that would surely piss her off even more.

He can’t help himself at times; he sure does love pushing V’s buttons.

“You done whining or what?”

Rolling her eyes, V turns her head to see Johnny standing there as he takes a drag on his cigarette. Normally, she doesn’t mind him smoking around her, but after an exhausting night where things didn’t work out in her favor, she was quickly reaching her boiling point. “You better clean up all that ash on the floor when you’re done.”

“Since when did you start caring about this shithole of an apartment being neat?” Johnny comments, more so as a tease, and this earns him another scowl. “Don’t waste your energy on Cruz. He’ll get what’s coming to him.”

“Didn’t know you believed in karma,” V adds, narrowing her eyes.

Devilishly, he smirks at her, tossing the cigarette butt to the floor then crushing it with his shoe. “Hon, there’s a lot of things you still don’t know about me.”

“Yeah,” she agrees before brushing past Johnny. “I’m heading out.”

His figure glitches momentarily, reminding V that he was nothing but a ghost residing in her mind, despite how real he feels. Even if she wants to leave this “shithole of an apartment” for some semblance of peace and quiet, she knows Johnny will only follow. He’s tethered to her for what could possibly be the rest of her life.

And yet, no matter how big of an asshole Silverhand was, she’s grown fond of his presence.

Not that she would mention it out loud. Ever.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Out,” V simply states, wondering what the point in Johnny asking her that question when he could easily find it out for himself was.

It’s truly unfair how he can read her thoughts, but she can’t read any of his.

He chuckles low. “Gon’ pay a joy toy to fuck tonight?”

“No, I’m going out for a drive, distract myself from that shitshow earlier. You better leave me alone.”

“Well, I’m a little insulted,” Johnny snorts, feigning offense. “I thought you liked my company.”

“I’m tired of your company. You never shut that mouth of yours.”

Before V could head to the door, she feels a metal hand encircling her wrist, holding her in place. She glances behind her, meeting Johnny’s deep, dark eyes, which hid a multitude of secrets. It’s been a while since she has felt a touch that wasn’t full of malice. Though his palm is cold from the material it’s made out of, a distinct heat spreads through her body—

It was a familiar warmth, one that radiates from V at his mere touch.

And when Johnny’s lips curl into a shit-eating grin, she knows that he has sensed it too.

“Shut my mouth? I think I can do something else much better than that.”

Johnny’s gravelly voice fuels the desire burning deep within V as he pulls her closer, her feet moving at their own accord. “God, I wish you came with an off-switch.”

“Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying this little game we’ve been playing.”

V doesn’t respond, her pulse quickening with anticipation. She lets out a shuddering moan when Johnny leans in, his hot breath grazing her silky skin before his lips crash against hers, possessively. He floods V’s senses all at once as he hungrily kisses her, letting him take the reins.

It would be a lie for V to say she’s never pictured a moment like this. A moment where she finally succumbs to Johnny’s charm and allows him to lay claim on her. It’s always been a constant dance between the two, a chemistry disguised as indifference, a craving left unspoken. Amidst the degrading insults and the snarky attitudes, deep down, they have always wanted the same thing—

To fuck each other’s brains out.

“Still tired of my company, V?”

“Just shut the fuck up for once and take off your pants.”

The grin on his face hasn’t disappeared. It only grows broader. “Ask, and you shall receive.”

Johnny roughly grabs V at the waist, his fingers curling underneath the hem of her shirt as he pushes her towards the bed. His mouth latches onto her neck, no doubt marking her for all of Night City to see.

They fell onto the mattress without finesse, similar to how V kisses Johnny feverishly, all tongue and teeth. Void of tenderness and only driven by the urgency of lust. She was too distracted by her want to care for the taste of tobacco from his last smoke. The hands traveling every inch of V’s frame lights up a fire in her, bringing a high that no drug on the black market could ever do.

Surprisingly, Johnny allows her to take the lead for a bit when she straddles him, his hardening cock pressing up against her aching cunt. She gages his reaction as she grinds on his clothed erection, a wicked smile forming to the sight of him being teased.

“You like that, huh? Fuck, I can’t wait to have you inside of me.” She feels herself growing wetter and wetter, losing patience just as swiftly as the man under her.

Without warning, Johnny flips them both over, the length of his body now pressed against hers from above. He wastes no time peeling V’s shirt and bra off, pausing for the briefest of seconds to admire her bare breasts. His cybernetic hand squeezes one soft mound as his lips descend on the other. She moans, and they were pure music to his ears, sounds that were so beautiful he could write endless songs about them.

“J-Johnny,” V stutters out his name, unable to contain herself anymore. She doesn’t remember the last time someone has quickly reduced her into a mess, and desperately she wanted, needed more.

The way his name trembles from her mouth drives Johnny into a frenzy, simpering at the fact he really hasn’t done much yet, but it was enough to leave V quivering. She looks too sinful beneath Johnny, too delectable. He’s well-aware of how long she’s gone without sex, and he’s now bent on ending that sad streak of hers.

Hastily, Johnny removes V’s pants and underwear in one quick go, his gaze devouring her beauty like a starved man staring at his meal. “Wow, you’re fucking drenched down there.”

“Fuck,” she gasps, one hand reaching forward to grip at his lengthy locks as soon as he delves in to taste her dripping nectar for the first time.

“You enjoying yourself there, baby?” Johnny’s inquiry needs no response. He could already tell she is solely by the way her eyes flutter shut, her head lolling to the side.

One lick. Two licks. Three. He surely knew how to work that deft tongue of his.

Johnny’s cock continues to throb in the confines of his trousers as his lips encircle V’s swollen bud, but he doesn’t end there. She wants more, and he’s willing to give her just that.

More.

V squirms when two chrome fingers enter her heat, stretching out her walls to prepare her for the serious pounding coming up. She’s lost in the sensations, unable to form a coherent thought or word. Johnny’s tempo was slow at first; tantalizing, nearly torturous. But once he starts moving faster, pumping even harder and reaching that sweet, sweet spot of hers, she begins to pant wildly as she fucks herself on his hand to get more friction.

“Holy shit, you’re a goddess,” he croaks after pulling back to study the needy woman looking back at him through half-lidded eyes. V is tight around his fingers, and he could only imagine how it would be like with his cock buried deep inside her instead.

Each rough stroke of Johnny’s digits against her wet walls brought V closer and closer to the brink of orgasm, her moans increasing in both volume and frequency. He urges her to let go, whispering into her ear how he wants to see and feel her coming. The gruffness in his tone turned her on even more, and V soon finds herself falling over the precipice, flushing hot with euphoria as Johnny watches, awestruck.

Satisfied, he beams at his work, which was only half of what he intends to do this evening. Being gracious, Johnny gives V an ample minute to recover, using the downtime to wipe the glistening wetness coating his beard before tasting the juices he’s collected.

Delicious, he thinks. She tastes as good as she looks.

V eventually comes back to her senses, propping herself up on her elbows as she gazes at Johnny with an almost dazed expression. “Perhaps the rumors are actually true.”

“Which one?” Silverhand asks, ridding himself of his clothes at the foot of her bed.

V pauses prior to answering, the sound of metal clinking filling the air as he unbuckles his belt, stripping off his leather pants afterwards.

“That you’re the best pussy eater in town,” she then reveals, glancing up briefly to see the smug look on his face before her gaze falls to his groin again.

Of course, Johnny chooses to go commando, and no, she wasn’t shocked at all.  

Silently, she marvels at the dick nestled in a thick bush of dark hair. Girthy and long with a slight curve upwards, the thought of it being inside her, barely fitting, made her mouth water. He wasn’t lying when he casually mentioned having an impressive cock.

It definitely did not disappoint.

“Oh sweetheart, that was nothing,” Johnny declares before climbing back on top of V, settling in between her legs. “The main act is just beginning.”

She doesn’t wait for Johnny to kiss her. In an instant, V’s lips were on his, her tongue pushing into his mouth, faintly tasting herself at the same time. Meanwhile, Johnny grips the base of his leaking cock, rubbing its engorged head against her slick folds that had her breathing heavily. V cants her hips impatiently, and through their kiss, he chuckles at her eagerness.

“So desperate for my cock, aren’t you?” Johnny husks mockingly. “How badly do you want me, slut? I wanna hear you say it.”

A moan escapes her throat at his words as he rubs his tip against her clit. V wants him so, so bad that she’s begging incessantly, something she never does in any of her past fucks. Usually, she was in complete control, never the one to relinquish her power.

Maybe that was the reason why V was utterly drunk with pleasure from this steamy session with Johnny. It’s good not to be in control for once.

“Shit, Johnny. Please, just fuck me already. Fill me up,” V pleads, now helpless at this point. She has to come again, this time around his cock. She repeats her keening over and over again, hoping that it was enough to feed into Johnny’s ego and finally show her mercy.

“Well, since you asked so nicely…”

Tugging at his cock, Johnny forces V’s legs to spread wider as she waits for him, mesmerized. Her pussy was soaked from his ministrations, but when he starts pushing into V, the burning stretch of her walls trying to accommodate his thick length leaves her in tears.

Those tears, however, weren’t entirely from the pain. V was also shedding tears because of how full Johnny makes her feel.

“Fucking hell, V,” he groans as she clamps down on him. “You’re so fucking tight. Damn, why didn’t we do this sooner?”

“We were too busy pretending to hate each other,” V replies, digging her nails into Johnny’s back when he begins to move.

His thrusts are slow but rough— as if he’s getting accustomed to the wondrous feeling of being inside of V. It doesn’t last long, though. Johnny has always been a hard and fast kind of guy, the one that does two or three more rounds before passing out. He’s bragged about his amazing stamina as well, and despite V believing she could match it, she probably won’t be able to tonight.

Not when he’s fucking her into the mattress like this for their very first time together.

Johnny’s brutal pace doesn’t falter. He pounds into V harder, faster, rougher; as if his life depends on it, the obscene sounds of flesh slapping against flesh bouncing off every corner of the room. His slick pre-come mixes with her honeyed essence, allowing him to seamlessly reach the depths of her center. Sweat drips down the side of his face as he maneuvers his mechanical hand to wrap around V’s delicate neck, adding pressure when she doesn’t resist.

“That’s it, baby,” Johnny growls next to her ear, rolling his hips as he squeezes her throat tighter. “You’re making me feel so good. I’ve always known you were a dirty whore.”

V’s gasping and thrashing, but she doesn’t want him to stop. She loves the rush of blood through her head far too much, especially with Johnny slamming harshly into her. It gives her a thrill she has never experienced with anyone else. Pretty sure he’s ruining her for others.

But whether this was part of his intentions or not, V doesn’t know. Nor she cares enough to figure it out.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me, V. Look at you, taking all of my cock like the fucking slut you are. You’ve wanted this for a while, haven’t you? You practically dream about me every night, and don’t you deny it.”

She doesn’t. Johnny was right, though it doesn’t really matter at this very second. His hold on V loosens for her to speak, and she inhales as much air her lungs could possibly take. She could feel it again, the ultimate high she’s been chasing once more. Johnny’s shaft dragging against her pulsing walls brings her even closer to it, building up the pleasure rising in the pit of her stomach.

“I-I’m close,” V warns, the pressure inside her threatening to break free. “Shit, Johnny, I’m gonna come soon.”

Johnny’s hips jerked harder, causing V to cry out. “Yeah? You’re gonna come? Don’t worry, I’m gonna make sure you come on my cock.”

Halting, he drapes her left leg over his shoulder, allowing him to slide in deeper than he has before. Johnny then pushes his metallic thumb into V’s mouth, and without prompt, she swirls her tongue around it, coating it with her saliva. Not missing a beat, his movement resumes, all bruising and all punishing. He brings his wetted finger on her sensitive pearl, stroking it as if he’s playing his guitar on stage.

The change in angle proves to be the final straw for V, who’s litany of high-pitch moans spurs Johnny to fuck her even more forcefully. Again and again, she takes everything he gives her, and in turn, she encourages him to follow her into the abyss. Her pussy caresses his cock with every frantic push and pull, and she notices how he’s gradually picking up speed, losing his rhythm in the process.

“Your cunt belongs to mine now,” Johnny mutters, gritting his teeth, and it’s becoming clear to V that he’s holding back just for her. “Come on, V. Let go, let go for me.”

Lust-blown eyes lock with V’s own, wordlessly urging her one last time to come undone. Several sharp thrusts later, she finds herself clenching around Johnny’s cock, her orgasm shooting through her like a rain of bullets. Unabashedly, V shouts as her vision whitens, intense waves of ecstasy washing over her shaking body. She’s too absorbed in bliss to realize right away that Johnny was still in her, dick hard and ready for a similar release.

Once she finds her bearings, V grinds her hips against Johnny’s, and immediately, his nails dig into her as he begins to move inside her yet again.

“Don’t stop, Johnny,” she purrs, watching him fuck her with both fast and long strokes. “I want you to cum deep inside me, baby. Shit, I want it so badly. Please, give it to me. Please…”

With a strained moan, Johnny suddenly climaxes, snarling as he shoots searing ropes of his thick, creamy cum into V, painting her inner walls with white. His features contort with pleasure as he throws his head back, his breathing shallow and ragged. When his heart rate returns somewhat back to normal, he slowly pulls his softening cock out, smirking at the sight of his load dripping out of her.

Afterwards, he flops down beside V with a huff, joining her as she stares blankly up at the ceiling. Johnny clears his throat as he shifts closer to V, who instinctively rests her head on his chest. His cyber arm curls around her, and she sighs deeply, seemingly content.

“How about that for a fucking distraction?” He says, recalling how the two of them got here in the place. “Don’t even have to go on a ride to clear your mind. Feel free to ride me instead.”

V laughs at his jest. “It was a great fuck, the best one I’ve ever had if I’m honest. But I’m still going after Cruz.”

Johnny hums in response, seeing V’s weary eyes growing heavier. “Fine, but just to let you know, what happened between us isn’t a one-time thing.”

“Fuck, I hope not. You’re stuck with me till the end of the world, buddy.”

“It’s a good thing you have an amazing pussy then.”

V smacks him lightly as exhaustion begins to take over. Sure, she was still pissed she didn’t get her eddies, but at least now she knows the prick named Johnny Silverhand was surprisingly a cuddler.

And that piece of information was worth gold.

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