#but from what I've gathered it seems like there was at once a moment in time where Sonia was meant to have history with Zacian and Zamazenta

[dancingbirdie]

Okay so on Astarion, I was reading this fic about him not knowing Tavs true intentions with him and it bothering Astarion a lot, so what if he goes to some mage or magic user and asks them to show Tavs true intentions to him, when he does the vision he sees is just... being snuggled. It's Tav on top of him and the both of you are falling asleep, his hands are under your shirt softly petting your skin as your sleepy self is contently snuggled up to him. I just start crying about him finding out that Tavs DASTARDLY and EVIL plan with him, their greatest desire from him... is to simply be held. 🥺

Hi @goblin-creatcher! Thank you so much for this BEAUTIFUL prompt. I, uhh, kind of took it and went a million miles an hour with it. This is honestly one of my favorite things I've ever written. I hope you enjoy it as well! xoxoxo

Something Imagined / Something Real

Word Count: 3.9K

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav

Warnings/Tags: Brief but detailed description of rough consensual sex, descriptions and references to Astarion's trauma/trauma responses, minor Act 1 and Act 2 spoilers, FLUFF, angst

Suggested Song Pairing: Slow Dancing in A Burning Room (Stripped) - cover by ST LUNA

Summary: Astarion has been suspicious of Tav’s true intentions toward him. He persuades Gale to cast a spell and reveal her motivations. ANGST and FLUFF ensue. A rewriting of Astarion’s confession scene from Act 2.

The sun had just begun to set on the campsite when Astarion decided to put his plan into action. He had waited until Tav departed with some of the other party members before making his way over to the wizard. Gale was too busy reassembling the bookshelf inside his tent to notice Astarion’s approach. It wasn’t until he gave a polite cough that Gale jumped and whirled to face him. 

“No, no, no,” he began all at once, hands raised in a sort of shooing motion. Astarion stared at him in confusion. “I can respect Tav’s indulging in your need for blood, but as I’ve said before: I taste terrible.” 

Astarion scoffed. “Charming. Actually, wizard, I was coming to request your aid in a different, though somewhat related, matter.”

“Really? Care to elaborate?” Gale responded, still somewhat wary. It wasn’t often he found himself alone with the vampire. 

“Testy, I see,” Astarion crooned teasingly. His knee-jerk response to people treating him like a monster, to behave in the most false saccharine sort of way. 

But he drew up short, censoring himself before saying anything else he might regret. He knew he needed to get on the wizard’s good side if he had any chance of getting the answers he sought. 

“I was hoping you knew a spell to reveal someone’s true intentions. Their… motivations for behaving in a certain way, so to speak,” he finished more seriously. 

Gale pondered the question for a moment before answering. 

“Hmm… yes, there is magic to determine that sort of thing… Although it’s been some time since I practiced it…” He trailed off, rubbing his chin in thought. 

“Why are you asking for such a thing?” he asked suddenly. 

Astarion had been prepared for this question, of course. No one did anything for free, no questions asked. He delivered his explanation perfectly, as he’d been rehearsing in his mind.

“One might say our dear sweet Tav and I have been growing a bit… closer these days, but I can sense a master manipulator when I see one. I just simply want to ensure their intentions toward me - toward the party - are true,” he replied with mock innocence. 

“Ah, yes,” Gale nodded. “I gathered as much when the two of you slipped away from the tiefling’s party a few nights ago.” 

“But,” he continued on,”I needn’t think you should worry when it comes to Tav. She seems about as transparent as they come. I’m sure any intentions she has toward you are true.”

Yes, but the best actors always mask their motivations behind innocence and transparency, Astarion thought to himself. I should know. I’ve been doing it for centuries.

After the party’s unfortunate meeting with that Gur in the Sunlit Wetlands, Astarion realized he would have to take potential threats from Cazador even more seriously. He wasn’t about to lose his freedom, not now that he finally had some small taste of it. 

It didn’t hurt to be more suspicious of everyone he encountered, even the sweetling Tav. Anyone could be an operative sent by Cazador, and the best ones would be as skilled as he was in the art of manipulation. It was well-known at this point that the person he’d grown the closest to on their journey was their brave party leader, Tav. Unlikely as it may be that she was scheming for his master, Astarion’s paranoia wouldn’t let him indulge in interactions with her a second longer unless he knew how she truly felt. 

Given Gale’s hesitation, Astarion knew he would have to kick his acting up a notch. Press on that wizard’s heartstrings. Touch the one nerve he knew he was sensitive to.

“Gale, darling, from one literally damaged soul to another, indulge me just this once,” Astarion beseeched him. 

The wizard glared at him a moment, before finally relenting with a heavy sigh. “Fine. Fine. But I want it known that I don’t agree with this so-called solution one whit,” he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Yes, yes, noted and formally documented, on my word as a former Baldurian magistrate,” Astarion replied cheerily. “So, let’s hop to it then, shall we?”

“What, right now?” Gale asked, shocked. “Shouldn’t we be, I don’t know, a little less conspicuous?” 

“What better time than now?” Astarion responded. “Tav’s out gathering firewood with Wyll and Karlach. They won’t be back for some time. As for Lae’zel and Shadowheart, well…” he paused, gesturing over his shoulder. 

Said two were engaged in a heated sparring session on the outskirts of the camp. Snarls and curses could be heard emanating from both warriors as they tried, and failed, to gain the upper hand against their opponent.

“That lovers’ dance could go on until morning,” Astarion finished. 

“Fair point,” Gale admitted begrudgingly, grimacing at the sound of swords clashing violently. “Very well. Let’s get started.” 

Clearing his throat, Gale began to utter a series of phrases completely foreign to Astarion. He watched as the wizard began moving his hands in a wavelike pattern, forming a circle before them. Suddenly, a mist began to form from seemingly thin air, taking shape according to the boundaries Gale’s hands were creating. The mist grew more and more opaque until it appeared before them like a clouded mirror. 

As the fogginess of the ethereal magic began to clear, the “mirror” became a confusing blur of scenes whipping by, too fast for Astarion or Gale to really comprehend. There were flashes of Tav and Astarion, together and separate, but they disappeared too quickly to ascertain their context. It was as though the spell was shuffling through the entirety of Tav’s thoughts, assessing each one at breakneck speed. 

Finally, the spell slowed to a halt, stopping on one scene in particular. Astarion was struck speechless by what began playing out in the foggy portal before them. So distracted, he didn’t even notice Gale’s tight cough, or how the wizard suddenly became intensely interested in a copse of trees nearby, rather than the revelation the spell was revealing.

Not that the scene was especially profound, objectively speaking. In fact, to anyone else, it might be viewed as the least revelatory thing possible that the spell could have shown. Boring. Inconsequential, even. But to Astarion, it was almost earth shattering. 

He saw himself - he could see his face! - with Tav, lying tangled together in some immaculate four-poster bed. 

That was the first shock that coursed through him, nearly causing his knees to buckle. He was seeing himself for the first time in over 200 years. Or at least, he was seeing himself as Tav saw him. And… the person he saw… Well, he was gorgeous. White blonde locks, curled and tousled in a devil-may-care sort of way. A strong, patrician nose that suggested good breeding. High, sharp cheekbones. Full lips, upturned in a thoughtless grin. Red eyes bordered by long, sweeping lashes. Delicately pointed elven ears. Smooth alabaster skin, without blemish or spot. 

Astarion could scarcely believe his own eyes. 

The second shock to his system was the nature of their activities. He would have been less surprised had the vision shown them fucking. Him taking her roughly from behind perhaps. His name a cry of ecstasy from her lips as he pistoned in and out of her with a feral sort of determination. 

Fantasies of lust, of total domination, now those were things he was familiar with inspiring in the minds of the victims he had taken as lovers. It was what he strove for, in all honesty. Desire like that all but ensured he would capture his prey and live to serve another day for his master. 

But nothing of the sort was occurring between vision-Tav and himself. Instead, they were just… embracing? What in sweet hells was this?

She lay halfway on top of him. Her hair was mussed, perhaps from sleep or perhaps from previous lovemaking. One hand was drawing absentminded shapes across his chest, her lips trailing behind, leaving kisses in their wake. He watched as vision-Astarion chuckled softly, as his hands slipped beneath her sleepshirt to caress her waist, as he placed an innocent kiss on the top of Tav’s head. Eventually, she reached for his hand. They both watched their fingers intertwine, blissfully content.

It was the purest, unadulterated expression of affection that Astarion had ever seen. Something in his heart quaked at the sight of it. He wanted that moment. He envied, he hated, vision-Astarion for enjoying such apparent happiness.

So absorbed in the vision and its implications, Astarion failed to notice the soft padding of feet that indicated someone’s re-entry into the camp. 

“If the two of you are quite finished poking around in my head,” an angry voice suddenly spat from behind them, “I’d appreciate you preserving what little privacy I have left and shutting that damn spell off.”

Mortified, Astarion and Gale turned to see Tav, arms crossed and visibly seething with rage. Gale quickly dispelled the magic with a flick of his wrist. A blush was slowly but surely rising up Tav’s neck to reach her cheeks. Whether from rage or embarrassment, Astarion couldn’t be certain. 

“Tav, let us explain-” Astarion started.

“It was his idea-” Gale blurted at the same time, pointing at Astarion. 

Both paused, glaring at one another. But Tav would have none of their feeble attempts at backpedaling. 

“The explanation doesn’t matter. Whose idea it was doesn’t matter. The fact is that both of you violated the privacy of my mind, which I’ll remind you, has ALREADY been violated by having a bloody tadpole forced inside of it!” Tav shouted. At their words, the camp became enveloped in a heavy silence. Even the crickets ceased their chirping.

Astarion cringed inwardly, knowing the other party members could plainly hear this altercation and had likely stopped whatever it was that they had been doing to listen in. He noted the sounds of swords clanging together had ceased. He was certain Lae’zel and Shadowheart at least were aware of what was happening. Nosy bastards, all of them.

But what disturbed him even more was the realization that Tav’s eyes were welling with tears. She was too proud to acknowledge them or wipe them away. Such was her nature. But they were there nonetheless, and the knowledge that Astarion had brought her to the point of tears was enough to spur a rush of utter self-loathing inside him.

Without another word, Tav turned on her heel and marched stiffly out of camp, toward the direction of a nearby creek they’d identified as a water source earlier in the day.

“I can’t believe I let you convince me to perform that spell,” Gale said as she disappeared between the trees. He dragged his hands down his face. 

“How could we have been so doltish, forgetting that all of our privacies have already been violated with this tadpole business?”

Astarion didn’t have an answer to that. At least, not one the wizard could possibly understand. 

The thought hadn’t occurred to Astarion, he realized, because violations of privacy had been something so intrinsic to his being for over 200 years. He didn’t even recognize it as something abnormal. Like a fish unaware that the water surrounding it is, in fact, water. 

Violations of privacy were a part of life, at least for him. So much so that his request for Gale to perform that magic hadn’t even occurred to him as an overstepping of boundaries. To Astarion, it had simply been a matter of survival. He had needed to know another potentially manipulative person’s true intentions, and so he had found a means to uncover it and maintain the upper hand. 

Belatedly, he also realized that Gale’s hesitation to cast the spell had had nothing to do with being inconvenienced for the evening, but because the wizard had known that it was improper to do to another person. If he had misread that, Astarion wondered, then what other truly benevolent behaviors had he mistaken as pragmatic manipulation?

“I need to go find her,” Astarion murmured, clenching and unclenching his fists in an uncharacteristic fit of uncertainty. 

“Yes, you do,” Gale asserted. “We both owe her a sincere apology… if she’ll even accept it.”

“I’ll see if I can convince her to come back to camp,” Astarion replied, making to leave in the direction Tav had stormed off. 

“Wait,” Gale said, a hand on his shoulder. Astarion turned to meet his gaze. 

“Look, well, I’m obviously not an expert in healthy demonstrations of affection. But I do think it’s obvious from what you saw in that spell that Tav well and truly cares about you. In perhaps the purest way possible. Treat that carefully.”

Part of Astarion wanted to laugh aloud in utter hopelessness at the wizard’s advice. Someone cared for him? Truly and purely? No hidden games, no strings attached? Oh certainly, that wouldn’t be a problem for Astarion at all. Obviously, his 200-year existence as a master-manipulator-fetch-hound for a power-hungry vampire lord had perfectly prepared him to respond to this situation in a healthy manner. Obviously.

But all that was too much to reveal to someone he barely knew and too heavy to say aloud. Rather than giving some smarmy retort, Astarion opted instead to give a stiff nod and continue walking toward the edge of camp. He had no idea how he could make things right with Tav, but at the very least he could try. 

***

He found Tav sitting on a fallen tree near the edge of the creek bed. Her legs were drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around them as she rested a cheek to her knees. In the waning twilight, she reminded Astarion of some misbegotten gargoyle perched on the roof of a temple, solitary and so very sad. 

Her ears twitched as she noted his arrival. Astarion wasn’t trying to be stealthy. On top of everything else, the last thing he needed to do was scare her. 

“Can I join you?” he asked softly, wincing to himself at the awkwardness of the question. 

The reality was that there was no way to broach this conversation without some stilted beginning, and he hated it. Navigating tricky conversations was normally something he excelled at. But as he was quickly finding, when it related to Tav, nothing in his past life had prepared him to respond to her well. 

“If you’d like,” Tav answered tonelessly. 

Knowing it was probably the best response he was going to get, Astarion swallowed thickly and moved to sit down on the log next to her. 

“I… wanted to… apologize for what you saw, back at camp,” he began.

“Apologize for doing it, or apologize for getting caught?” Tav asked as she turned her head to look at him, resting her other cheek on her knees. 

Astarion balked at the question. Her piercing gaze unnerved him. He hadn’t really thought that far. 

“Both, I suppose?” he answered honestly, although it sounded more like a question to Tav. She huffed a laugh.

“You know, part of me really wants to yell at you. Scream in your face. Tell you off proper,” she mused.

“So why don’t you?” Astarion asked, perplexed. 

Tav didn’t respond at first, just sat there studying him. As if by staring at him long enough, she could project the answer into his mind. 

Astarion didn’t interrupt her, much as he would have liked to. Part of him always bristled when people gazed at him for too long. It was unfair that they could study him, when he hadn’t been able to so much as glance at his reflection in over 200 years. 

Finally, Tav released a heavy sigh, her body curling further in on itself. She closed her eyes as she spoke.

“Because then I would be just like every other bastard in your life who’s mistreated you.”

Astarion flinched in surprise. Those had not been the sort of words he’d been expecting. The truth of them cut deeper than had she raged at him like she wanted to. It left him feeling even more vulnerable, and that in turn made him want to retreat into the comfort of viciousness.

“I don’t need you to pull any punches,” he scoffed, glaring at her. “Go ahead and say what you will.”

She straightened up at his tone, opening her eyes and returning his glare. 

“No. I don’t want to,” she said testily.

“I don’t need your pity,” he hissed. “It’s insulting.”

“Gods damn it all, Astarion!” Tav exclaimed suddenly, causing him to jump in surprise. She threw her hands up in defeat. “I’m not doing anything out of pity! I don’t want to rage at you, because I know that whatever I say right now, I won’t mean it come the morning!”

Astarion blinked. Once again he was left feeling flat footed by the turn of the conversation. Sensing his surprise, Tav continued on with her deluge of words.

“You hurt me tonight, and I’m angry at you - and at Gale, for that matter - for what you did. But you’ve shared enough of your… history… with me, that I realize your behavior is just… just a byproduct of centuries of abuse and manipulation you’ve endured! And I won’t be another abuser in your life. I won’t,” she asserted. 

Astarion continued staring at her, as if she were some otherworldly creature that had just wandered across his path. He watched as Tav inhaled a deep breath, releasing it shakily. She turned away from him to peer out into the forest, uncertain. She opened and closed her mouth several times before actually speaking. As if whatever she was about to say was more intimidating to her than anything else she’d said tonight. 

“I… care deeply for you, Astarion,” she said quietly. “You obviously saw that in the vision. I’m not playing any games. There’s no hidden motive. I’m not trying to manipulate you.”

She turned to look at him again before continuing, her breathing a bit unsteady. 

“I didn’t sleep with you that night of the tiefling party as some sort of maneuver to gain your trust. Although I understand if that was your motivation for doing so.” 

Astarion’s expression morphed into one of guilt. But Tav nodded soberly, as if she had already expected it, before continuing on. 

“It’s okay. I’m not angry. But I’m putting all my cards on the table now, so to speak. Actually, your decision tonight forced my hand, but I had been planning on telling you soon anyway. So, there you have it. The truth of my intentions. What you do with that information is up to you.”

She turned back to gaze out at their surroundings. Like she was giving him the opportunity to bolt away without her watching him. As if she expected him to flee from her confession. 

But Astarion didn’t flee. He remained seated, staring at her in complete wonderment. 

“Why?” he asked quietly.

She looked back at him again, confusion evident on her face. 

“Why what?”

“Why do you care for me? You’re so… well-adjusted. And I’m well… this,” he finished lamely, placing a hand on his chest. 

Tav pursed her lips. “It would be a mistake to misconstrue my empathy for you as me being well-adjusted. Everyone has their own demons, Astarion,” she murmured. “Mine just look different from yours.”

Astarion mulled her words over in his mind, considering them. He leaned forward to brace his forearms on his knees, his head drooping slightly. 

“I…,” he started, unsure. “That vision… what it implied… You deserve something real, Tav. You’re incredible… truly.” 

Tav closed her eyes, bracing for the fallout. Even though she would accept his decision, whatever it was, she didn’t think she could bear to watch him deny her. It would hurt too much. 

“Look. When we met, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan,” he blurted all at once. Rising swiftly to his feet, Tav watched as he began to pace before her, near to bursting with frenetic energy. 

“Seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me,” he counted off, laughing half-heartedly. “It was… easy - instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do… was not fall for you… which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart,” he finished, stopping to stand before her. 

She held his gaze, speechless. 

“I want you,” he whispered fervently. “I want what was in that vision… I want us to be something real.”

Never in a million years had she thought he would respond to her like this. She opened her mouth to speak, but Astarion cut her off with another sudden exclamation. 

“I just don’t know what real is,” he confessed, his tone a touch hysterical. Tav knew from his body language that being this transparent was completely out of Astarion’s comfort zone. 

“Being… close to someone - any kind of intimacy - was something I performed to lure people back. For him. Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels… tainted. Still brings up those feelings of disgust, and loathing. I… I don’t know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I’d like to,” he finished, staring at her with beseeching eyes, willing her to understand.

Tav rose to her feet, coming to stand before him. 

“I don’t want you for your body,” she whispered. “Or to perform any acts of intimacy. We can be together, without sleeping together, for as long as you need.”

“Really,” he asked softly, his voice pitched low, rough with emotion.

“Really,” Tav asserted, giving him a small smile. “Would it be all right if…” she paused, conflicted. He eyed her curiously.

“Could I hug you?” she whispered.

The fact that she asked before doing so caused a well of emotion to spring up inside him. Eyes watering, Astarion nodded. 

Slowly, Tav moved forward to wrap her arms around his waist. Her head nestled into the crook of his neck and shoulder. A perfect fit. He felt her exhale a deep sigh.

Tav hugging him was a sensation unlike any he had ever felt. At least, any he could remember feeling. The act of being touched, embraced, without any desire for something more. She just wanted to hold him, feel him close to her. It was incomprehensible to him, but utterly enjoyable, at the same time. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Astarion raised his arms to return Tav’s embrace. Drawing her even closer, he bowed his head to rest his cheek against her hair. It was soft, like the finest silk. He closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply, appreciating her sweet, floral scent.   

She made to pull away after a moment, not wishing to overwhelm him. But Astarion gripped her more firmly, a silent urge for them to stay that way a little longer. 

“This… this is nice,” he whispered. 

He both felt and heard Tav hum contentedly in response. 

It wasn’t identical to the vision from Tav’s mind that he had seen, but Astarion reveled in their embrace nonetheless. It felt like the beginning of something new. And for the first time in his very, very long life, Astarion felt excited at the prospects of what would come next. 

[tojiluv]

UNVEILING LOVE — uchiha clan ft. sasuke, itachi, shisui, madara, obito [imagine]

context: how would the uchiha men realize their feelings and confess to you? based on “why do you make me feel like this?"

warnings: au. fluff. gn! reader. slight ooc?

notes: this has been sitting in the dust for a while, thank sensen for this idea and motivating me. not my art above.

tags: only for @seneon <3

SASUKE UCHIHA — ❝ THE LAST UCHIHA ❞ 

Sasuke wouldn’t initially understand his feelings for you, unsure of how they differed from those of a friend to a potential lover. Knowing Sasuke, he wouldn’t confess to you due to his past mistakes and doubts about whether he could give you what you want. But that would soon change once he returned to the village and saw you hanging out with a random guy who kept making you laugh at a vendor shop. When you noticed your teammate returning, you waved at him, not realizing the glare he was directing at your friend. Before you could get a word out, Sasuke gently grabbed your arm and pulled you away, making you follow him out of the store without a chance to say goodbye. He kept walking silently until you were alone in a random alleyway, hidden from prying eyes.

“Hey! Sasuke, what was that about? Is everything okay?”

"Who was that?" he asked, his eyes focused on your delicate features that he had grown to admire. You tilted your head, confused by his question.

"Huh? Oh, you mean Lino! He’s just a friend I've been visiting," you said, not noticing how your comment made him feel a bit jealous. Sasuke kept quiet, pondering whether he should say anything or continue to avoid his feelings for you. He wondered if you truly liked him the way he liked you, fearing the possibility of rejection.

Your eyes grew concerned as you watched the stoic male avoid eye contact. “I hope you know that I… I missed you,” you confessed, shyly looking to the side as his head shot up, eyes slightly widened. “I’m just glad you’re back now, even if it's only for a little bit. I’m happy you’re okay.”

Your heart suddenly raced faster than you could maintain as the stoic male grabbed your hand, holding it lightly before gripping it firmly with warmth. You glanced up, your face warming from the contact as you witnessed a small smile appear on his face. You had always had a crush on Sasuke since you became teammates on Team 7 with Naruto and Sakura, but you always hid your feelings deep down. You doubted that you would ever have a chance with Sasuke Uchiha.

"I’m glad you missed me… 'cause I’ve missed you too," he confessed, pulling you closer as you listened intently. "I… I didn’t understand this feeling, wondering what made me feel this way until I realized it was you."

You held your breath, nothing around you capturing your attention except the male in front of you.

“I thought about you the whole time I was away,” Sasuke sighed, gathering the courage to speak his feelings. “I realized that I’ve liked you for quite some time.”

Surprise consumed you, eyes wide open at the confession. You never expected this, especially from Sasuke, who usually wasn’t the type to express his feelings. But here you were, discovering that Sasuke Uchiha liked you, apparently for a long time now. Your heart swelled as a large smile spread across your lips, gripping his hand more tightly than before. Sasuke felt all the tension loosen from his shoulders as his admiration for you grew stronger from your words.

“I've always liked you, Sasuke, for years. And I will continue to do so as long as I’m by your side.”

ITACHI UCHIHA — ❝ ITACHI OF THE SHARINGAN ❞ 

Itachi found himself in a rare moment of contemplation, leaning against the sturdy trunk of a cherry blossom tree. He allowed his thoughts to drift to a singular figure that seemed to occupy every corner of his mind: you. Closing his eyes, Itachi attempted to unravel the enigma of his feelings. When had he fallen in love with you? The question lingered in his mind like a persistent shadow.

He recalled the first time he met you, your bright eyes reflecting curiosity and kindness, a stark contrast to the darkness that often enveloped his world. At that moment, something stirred within him, a whisper of possibility that he dared not acknowledge, frustrating his inner being with the thoughts. As time passed, your presence became a constant in his life, weaving its way into the fabric of his existence. Like music to his ears, your laughter echoed in his memories, warming even the coldest corners of his heart. Your unwavering support during challenging missions, and your gentle encouragement in moments of doubt—each interaction etched itself into his soul, leaving an indelible mark.

It was difficult for him to accept a different form of love to enter his complicated heart. 

Now, under the cascading petals of the cherry blossom tree, the realization hit him with a gale force. His chest tightened, and he opened his eyes, staring at the soft pink petals fluttering around him, their beauty a stark reminder of his vulnerability. He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his emotions settle within him. 

"Why do you make me feel like this?" he muttered to himself, the question laden with confusion and a touch of exasperation.

Just then, he heard footsteps approaching. He turned his head and saw you walking towards him, your presence immediately calming the storm of his thoughts. You smiled, and he felt the familiar warmth spread through him, a warmth that he now recognized as love.

"Itachi, are you alright?" you asked, concerned.

He hesitated, his usual stoic demeanor cracking under the intensity of his feelings. For a moment, he considered staying silent, keeping his turmoil hidden. But then he realized he couldn't continue like this, trapped in his own emotions.

"It’s you," he said quietly, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "You make me feel like this." Your eyes widened slightly, surprise and curiosity flickering across your face. "What do you mean?"

He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "Every time I see you and hear your voice, I feel something I can't ignore anymore. It’s confusing and frustrating, but I can't deny it any longer. I... I love you."

The words hung in the air between you, a confession that felt both liberating and terrifying. Itachi's heart raced as he awaited your response, hoping that the feelings he'd kept hidden for so long would not be met with rejection.

You blinked, absorbing his words, and then a soft smile spread across your face. "Itachi," you said gently, taking his rough hands into your own. "I love you too."

Relief washed over him, and for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to truly smile. The complicated emotions that had plagued him began to untangle, replaced by a sense of peace he hadn't known was possible. At that moment, under the cherry blossom tree, Itachi Uchiha found solace in your embrace, knowing that he no longer had to face his feelings alone. With gentle tenderness, he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on your forehead, a silent affirmation of his love and gratitude.

SHISUI UCHIHA — ❝ THE BODY FLICKER ❞ 

The sound of clashing kunai echoed through the training grounds as you and Shisui sparred under the burning sun. Shisui's movements, usually swift and precise, seemed distracted today, his mind elsewhere. You noticed his unfocused gaze and slower reactions, wondering what could be bothering him. As you circled each other, you saw another opening and took it, landing a solid hit to his head. Shisui stumbled back, rubbing the spot where you had struck him, his expression a mix of pain and embarrassment.

"What’s wrong with you today?" you demanded, frustration clear in your tone. "You're not paying attention and using your full potential."

Shisui sighed, lowering his eyes to the ground. "I'm sorry," he muttered, avoiding your gaze. "I know I should be doing better."

Your annoyance faded slightly as you watched him. Shisui Uchiha, one of the most talented shinobi in the village, was never one to slack off during training. Something had to be seriously bothering him.

"Well, what's going on?" you asked, softer this time. "You can tell me."

Shisui hesitated, his mind racing. He had been overthinking his feelings for you for days, his thoughts a tangled mess of confusion and longing. He hadn't meant to let it affect his training, but being so close to you, yet unable to express how he felt, was driving him to lose focus.

"I... it's just..." he began, struggling to find the right words. "I've been thinking a lot lately, about... things." You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. "Things? What things?"

He took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. "About you," he blurted out before he could stop himself. "I couldn’t understand why I was feeling this way until I realized that I… I like you!"

The silence that followed was deafening. Shisui's eyes widened as he realized what he had just confessed, his face turning crimson. He hadn't meant to say it, especially not like this.

Your eyes widened in surprise, taken aback by his sudden admission. "Shisui..."

"I-I'm sorry," he stammered, backing away slightly. "I didn't mean to... I mean, I did, but not like this. I just..."

You stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Shisui, it's okay," you said gently, a smile tugging at your lips. "You don't have to apologize.”

Shisui stood up from the ground, wiping off any dirt as he avoided eye contact, his face still flushed with embarrassment. "I thought you knew," he murmured. "I don’t even use my Sharingan and barely put any power into my movements during our training sessions..."

"I just thought you were going easy on me," you admitted, rubbing the back of your head and feeling a bit foolish for not realizing the obvious signs. However, a warmth spread through you at his vulnerability, and a glowing grin appeared on your lips. "Well, for the record, I like you too."

The relief that washed over Shisui's face was palpable, his tense shoulders relaxing as he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Well, of course, you fell for my charms. How could you not?" he teased, a playful smile breaking through his worried expression.

You chuckled and shoved a hand against his shoulder. "Don’t get too ahead of yourself now. How about we continue sparring? But this time, I expect you to give it your all if you want to win over my heart fully."

Shisui grinned, feeling the weight of his unspoken feelings finally lifts. "Oh, you've got yourself a bet."

As you resumed your positions, you both couldn't shake the feeling that the sparring match had taken on a new, deeper significance. At that moment, under the fading light of the day, you both understood that this was the start of something special. The connection between you had deepened, turning a simple sparring match into a cherished memory. After the match (Shisui won), you sat together, hands linked, feeling a sense of peace and happiness, knowing that you had found something truly wonderful with each other.

MADARA UCHIHA — ❝ GHOST OF THE UCHIHA ❞

Madara Uchiha, a man known for his iron will and unyielding resolve, found himself ensnared in an internal struggle that defied his every attempt at control. His feelings for you had become a thorn in his side, a relentless source of annoyance that he couldn’t simply brush away. In an attempt to cope, he had begun to distance himself from you, hoping that the space would extinguish the unwanted emotions. However, it only served to exacerbate the situation. You noticed his sudden coldness, the way he avoided your presence and cut conversations short. Hurt and frustrated, you decided to confront him. You found him in a secluded courtyard, his back turned as he stared out at the night sky, lost in thought.

“Madara,” you called out, your voice firm. “We need to talk.”

He didn’t turn, his silence only fueling your frustration. You walked closer, refusing to be ignored. “Why have you been avoiding me? What did I do?”

“It’s nothing,” he replied tersely, still not facing you.

“It’s not nothing!” you snapped, moving to stand in front of him, forcing him to meet your eyes. “Tell me what’s going on!”

His jaw tightened, and you could see the storm brewing behind his dark eyes. “Just leave it alone,” he said, standing up from his spot to walk away.

“No,” you insisted, stepping into his path. “I won’t leave it alone. You owe me an explanation.”

The tension between you reached a breaking point. Madara’s frustration finally erupted. With a swift motion, he punched the wall beside him, cracks radiating out from the impact of his chakra. Despite the sudden action, you remained unflinching, eyes locked on his as you had anticipated this eruption from the stubborn Uchiha.

“Why do you have this effect on me?” he shouted, his voice a mixture of anger and desperation. “Why can’t I stop thinking about you? It’s infuriating!”

Your breath caught in your throat, but you pressed on, your voice softer now. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” you asked. “Why push me away?”

“Because I’m in love with you!” he roared, the confession tearing out of him. “And I hate it! I hate that I can’t control it, that you make me feel this way!”

The raw intensity of his words hung in the air, his chest heaving from the outburst. You stepped closer, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “Madara,” you said softly, “you don’t have to fight it. I love you too.”

His eyes softened, the storm within them calming. Vulnerability seeped through his usually stoic facade as he looked at you. “You... do?”

“Yes,” you replied, your voice steady and sincere. “From the moment we met after the war, I knew I did.”

For a moment, silence enveloped them, allowing his words to sink in. Then, slowly, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if afraid you might slip away. “I’ve been a fool,” he murmured against your hair, the tension in his body easing. “I should have told you sooner.” 

You wrapped your arms around him, feeling the solidity of his presence. “We’ll figure it out together,” you whispered.

In that embrace, the world seemed to shrink until it was just the two of you. Madara finally allowed himself to let go of the control he had clung to so fiercely. The future might still be uncertain, but with you by his side, he knew he could face whatever came next.

OBITO UCHIHA — ❝ THE MASKED MAN ❞

In the hidden depths of Obito Uchiha's heart, emotions swirled like a tumultuous storm, leaving him lost in a haze of confusion. Amidst the chaos of his thoughts, he struggled to decipher the true nature of his feelings for you. He watched you from afar, his heart yearning for something more, yet fearing the consequences of exposing his true emotions to the light. Each friendly gesture and shared moment deepened his uncertainty, leaving him adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions.

Day after day, he found himself drawn to you like a moth to a flame, captivated by your smile, your laughter, your mere presence. Yet, beneath the surface of his admiration, a seed of jealousy lay dormant, gnawing at his soul whenever he saw you with another man. He attempted to suppress the pang of envy that pierced his heart whenever he witnessed you in someone else's company, but the feeling only intensified with each passing day. The mere thought of someone else holding your attention, of another person eliciting the smiles he longed to see from you, was unbearable to him.

Then, one fateful day, his worst fears materialized as he stumbled upon you in the village, your laughter intertwined with that of another man's. A surge of jealousy engulfed him, threatening to consume him whole as he watched the scene unfold before his eyes, witnessing a random leaf ninja bid farewell to you.

Unable to contain his emotions any longer, the words spilled from Obito's lips in a rush of desperation and longing. "I can't stand seeing you with him!" he blurted out, his voice laced with bitterness.

You turned to face him, surprise flickering in your eyes at his outburst and undetected presence. "Obito, what are you talking about?"

Obito took a shaky breath, his heart pounding, struggling to find the right words. "I–I'm sorry. It's just... I've been confused about my feelings for you and the way you affect my entire being. And then seeing you with him... it hurts."

A heavy silence settled between them, the weight of his confession hanging in the air like a shroud. And then, to his surprise, you reached out and took his hand in yours, your touch sending a jolt of warmth through his veins. "Obito… Say it, please."

He sighed, feeling the weight of his emotions pressing down upon him like a suffocating blanket, his face burning from your intense look. “I know we're friends, and I value that more than anything, but I believe there's something more between us. And it's driving me insane because I… I cherish you deeply!”

Awaiting the sudden rejection, to his shock, you placed his hand against your cheek, your face nuzzling against his warmed palms as you graced him with the same sweet smile he had grown to love dearly.

“I've always loved you, Obito, ever since we became classmates in the academy. I knew that the boy who declared himself to be the next Hokage with those big goggles on his face was truly someone I would always admire.”

His heart skipped a beat at your words, a rush of euphoria flooding his senses as he realized how long you had waited for him. He couldn't believe his luck and fathom that the person he had been pining for felt the same way about him for so long. And as you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his in a tender kiss, Obito felt as though he were floating on air. In that moment, amidst the chaos of his emotions, he found a sense of clarity and peace, knowing that he had finally found the person who would stand by his side through thick and thin.

© 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢𝐥𝐮𝐯 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

[luveline]

hi honey!! i have a request of sad spencer comforted by bombshell reader. maybe hes the one on the brink of tears and really shes just there for him please

thanks for your request!!! fem, 1k

Spencer Reid can't stop frowning. 

“You know what I've been reading lately?” you ask him. 

“Cosmopolitan?” 

“That's just sexist.” 

Spencer points at the copy of Cosmopolitan hidden between papers and an open book where it lies on the desk in front of you, a smile interrupting his frown momentarily. “Sorry,” he says. 

“Oh, don't be sorry.” You squint at him ever so slightly as you cross one leg over the other and sink back into your borrowed seat. “That's on me. But, you know… this isn't my desk. That could be anybody's magazine.” 

He laughs politely and turns back to his work. 

“You don't wanna know what I'm actually reading?” you ask. 

He stares at his keyboard. “Mm.” 

He's not listening. That's alright. You don't really want to tell him about what you've been reading; it's just a book. 

You slide your chair closer to his and peek at the computer. He's on a page for American Airlines, flights to Las Vegas, but he hasn't clicked anything. Spencer grew up in Las Vegas, and his mom still lives there alone in a sanitorium for the mentally ill. She can get really sick at a moment's notice. You know he’s been thinking about that more lately. 

“Is everything okay, Spencer?” you ask quietly. 

You incline your head to his. He looks up, at first surprised by your attention, and then abashed. “Yeah.” 

“You don't seem yourself,” you say, putting your hand on his arm. You feel up to the crook of his elbow, waiting for him to shrug you off. He doesn't move. You stroke his skin with your thumb. “You can talk to me, you know? I hope you know that, anyways.” 

“Yeah, I know, it's…” His voice wobbles. You lean in closer. “It's nothing.” 

The first time you saw Spencer cry, he was in a hospital room being weaned off of a terrible thing, and it was sudden but expected all the same. He was suffering, recovering but in pain, and you would've cried if the roles were reversed. That was a long time ago. Seeing him upset doesn't get easier. 

“Spencer,” you murmur, “What's wrong? You look like you could burst into tears. Do you need me to get you a glass of water?” 

He shakes his head. You stay right there by his side waiting for the inevitable, the tears gathering in his eyes that he blinks away, and his painful swallowing. You have two hands —the one that isn't squeezing his arm jumps to his back to hold his stiff shoulder. 

“Do you want me to get Morgan?” you ask, unsure. 

It's a busy office, and you and Spencer sit on the outskirts closest to the offices upstairs and furthest from the hubbub. Nobody notices your closeness. You speak too quietly to be overheard. 

“Spencer,” you implore. 

He ducks his head, putting his hand to his brow. 

“I'm okay,” he says, his voice stronger now, “it's just my mom doesn't sound right in her letters lately, and I'm tired, and I wasn't expecting you to ask me.” 

“No?” you ask, giving his arm another tender rub. “Sorry if I'm upsetting you, Spencer. I was worried. You don't have to talk about it.” He winces. “But if you do want to, I'm right here.” 

He needs a hug, you decide (unsurely). You stand and he immediately lifts his head with worry in his eyes, but you're not going anywhere, the opposite. You cover up his head and shoulders as your chin rests gently atop his soft hair, a gravel to your tone as you say, “It's okay.” 

Spencer is silent. Slowly, tentatively, he wraps his arms around you in turn, and then he's squeezing you tight enough to feel it in your spine. 

“It's okay, Spencer. We can talk about it, huh? We can work something out. It wouldn't be terrible for you to take a vacation every once in a while, maybe that's what you need.”  

He breathes out against your sleeve. “Sorry,” he says. 

“It's okay.” You kiss his head. He likely doesn't feel it. “I promise, it's fine.” 

“I wasn’t expecting you to ask.” 

“I know, you said that already.” You don’t tell him with any malice, just reaffirmation. “But I’ll always ask. I care about you, I need you to be okay, Dr. Reid. You’re my pillar of strength.” He laughs with self-deprecation, but you mean it. “You are. You’re always there for me. You’re always looking after me.”

“Since when do you need looking after?” 

“That’s one of the best and worst things about you. You don’t realise what you are to people.” 

Spencer screws his hands into your blouse and grows still in your arms. You consider scolding him about wrinkles to lighten the mood, but he’ll take you too seriously, and stop hugging you, and that’s not what you want. You try to be subtle about the comfort you’re giving him as you wrap your arms behind his head to close him in, hiding him from any prying eyes, but the longer you stay holding him the more attention you recieve, until even your stoic unit chief can't pretend this is appropriate for the workplace. 

“L/N,” Hotch says in concern. “Reid. Is everything okay?” 

Spencer seizes up and tries to push you away.

You lift your chin above his head and give Hotch your stickiest smile, arms moving to a more amicable position behind his shoulders. “No, everything is not okay, Hotch. You realise I only joined the unit to be with Spencer, right? And you punish me by sitting me halfway across the office!” 

Everyone watching either laughs or rolls their eyes, used to your dramatic favouritism. Even Hotch seems tired of it. 

“I’d be sorry if I thought that were true. Can you go back to suffocating Reid on your own time? We have some consults to look over.” 

You widen the gap between you and Spencer, allowing him the space to collect himself. “If you insist,” you say, grinning brightly. 

You stand in front of Spencer, heart aching as he sniffs quietly. He stands, and for a moment you think he won’t be alright after all, that your comfort was useless and he’ll need to excuse himself, but he draws a ghost of a line into your side with his knuckle and squares his expression. “Let’s get back to work,” he says to you with a small smile. You’ll talk more later. 

“Wanna hold hands?” you ask. 

“Maybe when everyone’s stopped looking at me?” he says under his breath, starting toward the steps to the conference room. 

“Wait, really?”

He hurries up the stairs. You follow.

[red-heart-green-light]

gentle sex w cho hyun-ju pls oml where she talks u thru it 😍

anon how did you read my mind,,, this from her is literally everything i need in my life

also !! tried to keep genitalia vague for both the reader and hyun-ju, so it's up to you whether this is pre- or post-bottom-surgery :) it's been so long since i've posted a proper bit of writing online so i really hope this turned out okay!

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Slim, soft hands seemed to fill your senses as Hyun-ju ran them along your bare waist, then your hips. You smiled instinctively, leaning into her touch and allowing your head to rest on her shoulder. Hyun-ju hummed softly, holding you closer to her. The two of you were standing in her bedroom and both clad in only underwear, the only thing keeping you from feeling the entirety of her body against your own.

"Are you sure you want this?"

Hyun-ju's voice seemed almost nervous, a certain tenderness to it as well as caution. You laughed softly, reaching up to cup her cheek with your hand. "I'm sure. I want you. I'm just not really sure what I'm doing.. or what you'd like."

She softened, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "That's okay. You don't have to figure that out by yourself." Though her tone and expression were gentle, her words held a flirtatious meaning to them. And when she kissed you, you felt it.

Losing yourself in the sensation, your hands made their way to her chest, though you kept your hands curled, closed, like you weren't sure what you could touch. Hyun-ju carefully broke the kiss, smiling at you. She took your hand in hers, guiding it to cup her breast. "Here," she whispered. Kissing her again, you obliged, giving the area small squeezes and caresses. In response, she let out a small moan against your mouth. You quickly grew frustrated with the fabric blocking your way, however, and reached around to find the clasp of her bra at the back. "Can I?"

Hyun-ju nodded, her face flushed. She let you unhook and slowly slide off her bra, then sat on the bed, and you followed her. Carefully climbing onto her lap, you returned your hands to their previous place, no longer obstructed by a barrier of fabric. Hyun-ju moaned again, this time in surprise, her head ducking down to meet your shoulder as her hands found your thighs. She turned her head, panting softly beside your ear. "That's- That's good. Don't stop."

Hearing those words from her sent a rush down your spine, and you felt your hips twitch forward, your groin pressing against Hyun-ju's. Her nails pressed into your thighs, just for a moment. "Do that again. Please." Her words spurred you on, and you did as asked, rolling your hips in a purposeful way this time. You soon found a steady, slow rhythm, and her lips found your neck, gently leaving kisses down the side of it. "Doing so well, baby," she mumbled into your skin, fighting the urge to pull you further against her. But she wanted to be patient with you, the same way you'd always been with her.

You shuddered, the thumb of one of your hands pressing her nipple. "Hyun-ju.. I need.." Your voice trailed off, and Hyun-ju lifted her head, moving to rest her forehead against your own.

"What do you need, honey?"

You let out a shaky breath, trying to gather your words. "More of you."

Hyun-ju smiled, offering you a kiss on the forehead. "Are you okay if we.. undress more?" she asked, to which you nodded. Hyun-ju helped you stand and did the same herself, keeping the warm smile on her face despite her nervousness. She watched you undress yourself completely, tugging down her own panties to match. Fighting the urge to cover herself, Hyun-ju's hands instead found yours. "You're perfect."

"I could say the same to you."

"I love you." Hyun-ju caught you in a kiss once again, a short one this time, before pulling you towards the bed. "Lay with me?"

The two of you slipped beneath the covers, pressing against one another, skin to skin. Hyun-ju ran her hand along your thigh, before cupping underneath it, lifting it and slotting her own thigh between yours.

"Is this okay?"

"Yeah. Please."

She needed no further confirmation, giving a slow roll of her hips and grinding into your thigh, her hand on your own hip encouraging you to do the same. She tightened her grip, just slightly, her head falling against the pillow as she shuddered. "Hah- You feel so good. Just like that."

You could tell she was trying not to get too carried away too fast. You whined softly, one of your hands meeting her waist as the other grasped at her chest again. This made her moan, rutting against you with higher intensity. "Please don't stop. Oh, god." You'd never heard her voice take on this tone of desperation before, and you craved more of it. The more you moved, the more she seemed to praise you for it. As your thigh pressed harder against her groin, she outright whimpered. "That's it. Doing so well, love. So good for me."

All you could feel was skin, heat, love, lust, all merging together into an overwhelming sensation. You were getting close to the edge, and admitted this to her, albeit through whispered words between sounds of pleasure.

"So am I," Hyun-ju muttered, not ceasing her movements even for a moment. "It's okay. I want to see you come. Please come for me."

The request sent you tumbling over the edge, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train as you came on her thigh. Hyun-ju was quick to meet her own, but not before watching you, admiring the look on your face as you fell apart. Hyun-ju let out one last sweet whimper, alongside a string of "I love you" and "so good."

Panting for air, you nestled in Hyun-ju's arms, coming down from your high as you focused on the softness and warmth of her body. As Hyun-ju started to regain her own composure, she ran her hands along your back, in a repetitive and soothing motion.

"You did so well. That was perfect. I love you."

But as you smiled at her words, and felt your eyes threaten to close, you thought that maybe the truly perfect thing was the two of you together.

[alexwilltellyouthings]

What if the confession happened as Edwin planned?

"I've been realizing that I..."

Charles is staring intently. Edwin can see he has no clue what's coming and it makes it easier and harder at the same time.

He almost wishes they were interrupted. Almost.

"I...", Edwin loses his words again, and looks down, sideways, trying to gather his courage anywhere else as if he doesn't know Charles' eyes are the only right place to look at.

For once, Charles doesn't say anything, sensing he needs time. Still, Edwin sees a frown just starting to form, and knows he has to get this over with for both of their sakes.

"It is not Monty", he says quickly, gazing back at Charles, "that I like".

Charles properly frowns now. After a couple of seconds, his expression changes entirely, going from confused to bewildered, and Edwin reads him easily.

"Not the Cat King, either."

Charles breathes out, breaking his composure entirely. "Thank God, mate. I mean, I wouldn't judge your taste or anything..."

Edwin raises an eyebrow and Charles chuckles.

"Okay, maybe I would, so I'm glad it's not him. But then who...?"

Edwin feels his throat close. Charles is searching him, waiting for an answer he, by all means, should know.

Edwin just stares back for a second, then two, then three, until Charles is not confused anymore. The crease between his eyebrows slowly fades and his lips part open just slightly.

Edwin gulps. "Who else?", he nearly whispers.

Charles' eyes are franctically moving between Edwin's and he tries to say something, but doesn't seem to be able to form any proper words.

Edwin rushes to continue, "You don't have to feel the same. I just needed to tell you".

And while it feels like every part of him is burning, Edwin still doesn't think this is over, not yet, so he licks his lips nervously and adds quietly: "That I'm in love with you".

That hits Charles so strongly he sways a little bit, and only then looks away.

"I, uh", he starts stupidly. "Edwin, I don't even..."

"You don't have to say anything..."

"No, but I want to", Charles says, and his own words bring him back to a steadier mindset. He takes a deep breath and sets his hands over Edwin's shoulders. "Edwin, you're my best mate. That'll never change. You're the most important person in the world to me, okay?"

Edwin nods, feeling as if it wasn't for Charles' hands, he would be combusting.

"And I don't..." Charles' grip gets a little tighter for a moment. "I don't know what that means right now, for us, or for me, but we have all the time in the world to figure it out, yeah?"

Edwin smiles without meaning to. He notices his eyes are tearful, for some reason, and Charles smiles back while bringing a hand up to dry Edwin's cheeks as those tears fall down.

"Thank you for telling me", Charles completes, and pulls Edwin into a hug.

Edwin allows it and allows himself to melt into the embrace. He agrees — they have all the time in the world, and this is just the beginning.

[authorhjk1]

Hi! It's my first time to use tumblr ask/post functions. I'm glad to see your ideas about colorful dress and SNSD. Here are some Seohyun in this elegant pearl dress you would love.

(181230 SNSD Seohyun at 2018 MBC Drama Awards)  https://kpopping.com/documents/02/4/800/DvryzVOUUAElz74.jpeg?v=593d1  https://kpopping.com/documents/d3/4/800/DvryzVOUYAAImie.jpeg?v=1981c  

Pearl

(Seohyun X Male Reader)

You wake up to your phone ringing. As you reach for it, you glance at the time. Why would someone call you in the middle of the night? You groan in frustration, before answering the call, still half asleep.

"C-Can you come over?"

The woman on the other side of the line sounds desperate. You hear her breath hitch.

You move the phone away from your ear to check the caller ID.

"Seohyun?"

Her answer is a long, drawn out moan.

"What is going on?"

"I can't help it."

She finally responds, her breath heavy.

"For the last five nights I watched our video to get off, but now..."

A disappointed, almost frustrated whine leaves her lips.

"Now I need the real thing again."

You hear her sigh and while she waits for your answer, you also hear her playing with herself. Her fingers seem to move in and out of her pussy, the wet sounds clearly audible when she doesn't speak.

"I was sleeping, Seohyun."

You remind her of the time, but she doesn't listen.

"Please, I'm begging you."

Another moan leaves her lips, before she can continue.

"I came home from this one award show an hour ago and since then I've been playing with myself non stop."

Her whining tone and the mental image of Seohyun getting off to you fucking her for over an hour has your cock hardening.

"I feel like I keep edging myself again and again. But I can't get off properly."

Another loud moan follows her words.

You sigh, slowly getting out of your bed. There's no way you're able to go back to sleep now.

"Send me your address."

After hanging up the phone, you get dressed and get your car keys.

You wait a good minute for her to open the door once you arrive at her place. When she finally does, you are greeted by a mix of elegance and lust. She still seems to be wearing the dress she wore to the award show. But her hair is slightly disheveled and her cheeks are red.

"Why are you still wearing this?"

You question Seohyun as you step into her apartment.

"I can't take it off by myself. An I left early because I couldn't stop thinking about this."

She reaches forward and cups your cock through your pants.

"Didn't you tell me that you aren't a very sexually active person?"

Seohyun shrugs her shoulders.

"Your cock changed that."

You would've laughed if it wasn't for her desperate look.

"Fine. But before I give you what you want, I want to feel those."

You nod towards Seohyun's beautiful mounds, which seem to look even bigger than last time.

"Of course."

She almost moans, before getting on her knees in front of you.

You watch how she looks up at you, teasingly biting her lip. Then, Seohyun pulls down her dress a little and frees her alluring tits. She quickly gets rid off your pants and underwear and leans forward. After gathering a little saliva in her mouth, she lets it dribble off her lips and onto your cock. The sudden warmth almost makes you sigh. Seohyun wraps her boobs around your length and holds them together with her hands.

"Do you like them like this?"

She knows you do. You can only nod in approval when Seohyun starts to move her upper body. Up and down she moves, your now wet cock gliding through the gap between her smooth tits.

After a couple of moments, she lets a second load of saliva fall onto your tip. Her mounds soon spread it all over your length. You can't help but rest a hand on her head, when your knees begin to buckle. You didn't expect this to feel so good.

"Damn, Seohyun."

You groan and she looks up at you with a proud smile playing around her lips. Her tits feel amazing wrapped around your cock. They're soft and smooth, making it easy for her to move along your length.

Soon, she leans down again, but instead of adding more saliva, you feel her tongue dart out to lick your tip.

"Don't."

You hiss, which makes Seohyun do it again immediately.

"You're gonna make me cum soon, if you keep this up"

You warn her, but Seohyun's smile is now mischievous.

"I don't mind. As long as you give me that pounding afterwards."

She adjusts her grip on her tits and lowers her upper body a little. Now, more of your cock appears between her tits, whenever she moves down. You watch her opening her mouth and capturing your tip with her lips.

"Damn it."

You groan, your fingers slightly digging into Seohyun's scalp. The combination of her soft mounds and her luscious lips leaves your head spinning. You should probably be used to this at this point, but you didn't expect Seohyun to be this good. Her tongue dances around your tip, while her lips move up and down, just like her boobs, which are wrapped around most of your cock.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum all over you."

Your grip on her hair tightens, which makes Seohyun lift her head off your dick again. Looking up at you, she gives you her best fuck me face, while her tits keep gliding along your length. Your breath hitches when she applies a little bit more pressure, the friction around your cock suddenly increasing.

You groan, almost in disappointment, when you finally orgasm. On instinct, you pull Seohyun's head back a little to protect her face, which just means that you cover her soft mounds and her collarbone with your cum. It looks amazing on her porcelain like skin as it glistens in the lights of her apartment.

Seohyun lets out a satisfied sigh, feeling the warmth of your semen coat her skin. Your cock between her tits is still hard and you slowly start to thrust in between them.

"How do you want me to fuck you?"

Your question makes the heat rise inside of her. The slight tingle inside her pussy urges her on to jump into action.

"First, get me out of this dress."

Moments later, Seohyun stands completely naked in front of you with her tits and collarbone still covered in your cum. You can't help but marvel at her effortless beauty. When you eventually snap out of it, you remember Seohyun's words from the interview last time.

"Take control."

With two big steps you close the distance between the two of you. Before Seohyun can say something, you push her against the wall behind her. One hand grabs her waist, the other reaches under right thigh, making her lift her leg a little.

"How bad do you want it now?"

You whisper, your lips brushing against hers as Seohyun feels your tip graze her own wet folds.

"Take me until the sun comes up."

While pulling her in, you thrust forward, sliding your cock into her tight wet cavern. Her lower lips desperately grip your cock as it goes deeper into her. Seohyun moans into your mouth, finally feeling your cock stretching her out again.

Soon after you start to fuck her into the wall behind her, her right leg wrapped around your torso, you feel her hands on your back. Her nails dig into your skin and as you make Seohyun moan your name again and again, she scratches at your back, finally releasing all that pent up lust.

[falling-endlessly]

Boomerang (part 1)

Vox x Female!Ex!Overlord!Reader

Summary: When Vox proves incapable of cutting Valentino out of his sex life despite his many reassurances, you decide to break it off with him and leave for good. He doesn’t take it so well.

Just to be clear, reader is an artificial intelligence demon, looks super realistic and human-like, but is actually composed of nanotechnology. She was human once though, like all of the other sinners.

INSPIRED BY THIS POST

Part 2—> Chapter Index

"Y/n?" Charlie poked her head through your door. "There's uh, someone here to see you."

You narrowed your eyes, rising from your bed. A bone-weary sigh escaped you. It was obvious who your supposed "visitor" was. "Did you tell him I'm busy?"

Charlie pursed her lips, looking down. Great, so that meant he was throwing a temper tantrum. And she wanted you to sort him out.

"Alright, fine," you pinched the bridge of your nose. "I'm coming." She was generous enough to let you stay, after all. The least you could do was clean up your messes.

When you finally reached the main floor, Vox and Alastor looked about two seconds away from clawing each other's faces off. Cyan blue electricity was sparking along Vox's entire body, and Alastor's shadows curled dangerously behind him, ready to attack at his call.

Seeing him made a hot fury like no other claw its way up your throat. "What the fuck are you doing here?" You growled lowly, balling your fists at your sides.

At the sound of your voice, Vox immediately broke away from Alastor, a giant smile spreading across his screen. "Sweetheart! There you are!"

You stormed up to him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him harshly into a corner. You let go of him once you were sufficiently out of earshot of the others, crossing your arms and leveling him with a furious glare. "You have five seconds to explain yourself."

"Okay, let's just calm down for a second here," he chuckled, but it was an empty sound. "Is it really that weird for me to want to check up on you? After all, you kind of just disappeared," his smile strained.

"Has it ever occurred to you that the reason you couldn't find me was because I don't want to see you?" You smiled sardonically, patience running thin.

"Uh, what?" He laughed, but his smile was frozen. "Why would you not want to see me?"

That was the last fucking straw. "Are you that fucking delusional, Vox?" You snapped, poking him harshly in the chest. "When I said I was done, I meant it. This," you gestured between the two of you. "Is over. I'm done."

Vox twitched, electricity sparking off sporadically from his antennae. He stared at you in stunned silence, his breathing starting to pick up speed as he processed your words. His eyes searched your face for any sign that you were being untruthful, and when he found none, he glanced up at the small crowd of residents and staff gathered, only to lock eyes with a smug Alastor.

Vox's screen glitched, his features twisting in a rage. "So you're replacing me with the radio fucker now, is that it?"

"Oh, really?" You narrowed your eyes. "Just like you replaced me with Valentino?"

"That's different," Vox gritted out.

"Is it?"

"Yes, for one, Val isn't some archaic cannibalistic fucker with a vendetta against me!"

"Who has the vendetta against who here? Cause it seems like you're the one who can't let things go." You watched him splutter on his bullshit for a few seconds before you shook your head in exasperation, the pounding pressure increasing at your temples. "Alright, that's it, we're done here. Get out."

"Y/n," he narrowed his eyes. "You need to think about this."

"Oh I've had plenty of time to think," you grabbed his tie, pulling him closer to bare your teeth menacingly. "Now get out before I put a goddamn virus in your software Vox!" Your face pixelated from rage at the end of your sentence. You let him go with a harsh shove.

For a long moment nobody spoke, a tense silence blanketing over the two of you. You glared at him venomously, chest still heaving from your outburst. And him, he was looking at you like he'd never seen you before. Good, you thought spitefully. It's finally getting through to him.

Vox's mouth hardened into a thin line, his sharp claws nearly drawing blood from his palms. "Why here?"

You closed your eyes. "It’s not a forever thing. I just—I need to be away from everything for a little while, okay?" Everything that we've built together. Reminders of you. "No flashy shit, no fast life, no technology—"

"You're an A.I. model," he said dully.

"Yeah well, you win some you lose some," you sighed, rubbing at your temples. "Look, I don't want to say it again. Leave Vox, I'm serious."

For a hot second, it looked like you were ripping his entire world apart and stomping on the broken pieces, the way he looked at you so lost, before he hastily pulled himself back together. "Fine," he spat out. It sounded like it physically hurt him to say it.

He lifted his chin, adjusted his lapels, and stormed out of the hotel, slamming the door so hard it blew straight off of its hinges, blue sparks of electricity still sizzling from it.

For a few seconds, a thick tension suffocated the room, as everyone took the time to process the shit show they'd just witnessed.

"Well, that was fun!" Alastor's cheery voice punctuated the silence. You glared at him tiredly.

***

If you thought that he would give up like you so nicely asked, you were sadly mistaken.

Turned out it was just a pre-game warm up for this asshole.

At least thrice a week, he made sure to fuck up your peace somehow. Last time it was spray painting the entire hotel electric blue (how, you didn't even want to know). The time before that, it was trying to sneak some of his peeping gadgets in through the window. And the time before that, it was putting your name up on every billboard in the goddamn city with a red heart next to it.

Now, you stood incredulously in front of half of the hotel. As in, the other half was missing. Blown off by a fucking missile. You couldn't make this shit up if you tried.

"What the fuck is going on?" You gritted out, before taking a deep, calming breath.

Vox's electric laughter rang out from a speaker of unknown source. You turned angrily to face the open air.

"Pathetic," he jeered. "You still want to shack up with these losers, Y/n?"

You shook your head slowly, laughing in disbelief. "Wow," you said sarcastically. "You really showed us, didn't you? Feel better about yourself now?"

You punctuated your sentence with a glare, before turning and storming towards the remaining half of the building.

Vox watched you from twenty different angles across his screens. The moment you turned your back, his wide, toothy grin dropped, eyes squeezing shut. He slammed mute on his microphone.

“FUCK!” He banged a fist on the table, breathing heavily. It had been two weeks already, and you still hadn’t come back to him. He was getting desperate now.

A quick glance at the screen showed Alastor’s glitching picture. The radio bastard snapped his fingers with a raised brow, the missing half of the hotel repairing itself instantly.

“Fucking show off,” Vox growled raggedly.

He needed to change tactics. And fast.

***

Nothing. He had nothing.

No plans, no blueprints, no smart and suave moves to get you back.

Every scenario he ran through his head would inevitably end with you walking away from him. If only he could hypnotize you like with everyone else—but you were a tech demon, just like him. More advanced, even. Your firewalls were just too strong.

Vox poured himself another glass of scotch, solemnly glaring up at the ceiling in frustration.

A clawed hand clasped his shoulder, making him grit his teeth.

“You’re looking a little tense, Cariño,” Valentino purred, trailing his fingers up Vox’s neck. “I can help with that~”

Vox shrugged him off, annoyed. “Not in the mood, Val.”

But Valentino was undeterred. “Is this about Y/n?” He murmured, knowing he hit the nail on the head when the other demon tensed considerably. “What’s so special about that bitch anyway, hm? Is it the pussy? You know I’ve got whores lined up for you, baby. Just say the word and—”

“Fuck off, Val!” Vox exploded, electricity sparking in his eye. “I don’t want just any random bitch from the street, okay?! I want Y/n. I want her back,” he spat miserably.

Valentino went silent, his face twisting into a cruel expression. “Don’t you understand?” He growled. “She left you. Betrayed you. And she’s not coming back, ever. The sooner you see that and stop wasting your time, the better.”

He turned away, his heels clacking against the marble floors until the double doors swung closed behind him.

Vox let out a frustrated yell, arcs of electricity shooting out from him and shattering his expensive collection of drinking glasses to smithereens.

***

A tap sounded at your window, making you tense.

Slowly you approached it, generating a pistol from your nanotech and holding it tightly to your chest. You peered out of the blinds, only to find your ex dangling from the window sill.

“Holy shit!” You screeched, jumping back.

“A lil’ help?” he grinned lazily, reaching out for you. You grasped his hand, hauling him inside of your room.

The unmistakably pungent scent of alcohol invaded your senses, making your wrinkle your nose.

“Jesus fucking Christ, are you drunk?” You dragged a hand down your face.

“No,” he hiccuped, shaking his head vehemently, which caused him to lose balance. You grabbed his shoulders, righting him before he fell and broke his screen.

“Oh yeah,” his face lit up in realization, before he reached behind him, pulling out a bouquet of slightly squashed roses. “For you,” he slurred, offering them proudly.

You looked at them in exasperation, before taking them gently from his hands. Bringing them up to your face, you closed your eyes, sniffing them slightly. A sweet floral scent filled your senses as you regarded them.

“They’re pretty,” you remarked quietly.

“Yeah,” he grinned, your eyes flickering up to catch his. “But you’re prettier.” At your lack of reaction, his grin faltered, and he looked down.

“I…” he started, swaying slightly. “I’m sorry.”

You closed your eyes, shaking your head. “Don’t do this.”

“Please come home,” he continued, expression drooping sorrowfully. He clasped your hand, looking up at you pleadingly. “I’ll…I’ll do better, I promise.”

The ache in your heart grew almost unbearable the more you looked at him, so you averted your gaze. “Why don’t you ever say that when you’re sober?”

Vox let go of your hand, sliding down the wall until he landed on his ass. “Scared,” he mumbled.

You crouched down in front of him, lifting his hanging head from his arms. “Of what?” You said gently.

His eyes flickered up to yours, and the raw emotion nearly stole your breath away. “You still won’t want me.”

“Vox…” You closed your eyes, pained.

“Come home,” he whispered hollowly. “Please.”

“You know I can’t do that,” you said thickly, swallowing the lump in your throat.

He looked at you sadly, but resigned. “Yeah, I know,” he lowered his screen back into his arms. “…miss you,” he trailed off quietly, before soft whistling snores could be heard.

You dropped your face in your hands, breathing raggedly. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. You had almost fucking caved.

After a moment to compose yourself, you searched his pockets, pulling out his phone (he didn’t even change his password) and dialing a familiar number.

“What the fuck do you want now, Vox?” An irritated feminine voice answered the line.

“Velvette,” you said cooly. “I need a favor.”

****

Part 2 —> Chapter Index

[gguk-n]

Chapter 3- Heartfelt confession

Accelerating Emotions (Oscar Piastri x Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Oscar decides he wants to spend time with Y/N. The more time he spends, the more his feelings solidify. He likes her a lot. He just hopes she likes him too.

Lando was the happiest person when summer break began since he would no longer have to hear his teammate pine over his best friend's sister. Oscar was a quite and stoic man and nothing could elicit a response from him except Y/N. Even the thought of her getting hurt would make Oscar worry to no end; so he would resort to stealthy pestering Ansel while away for races on what was going on with his sister who honestly was of no help since he lived in another city. So, Oscar now depended on his mother and he would be lucky to catch glimpses of Y/N behind his mom on rare occasions. Nicole was happy her son was calling way more often then usual and she wasn't about to complain. Oscar had ulterior motives and would ask about everyone in hopes of finding out what Y/N was up too. He was sure his sisters could take care of themselves.

Summer break couldn't come any sooner for Oscar either. Oscar was back in Australia enjoying the cooler weather especially after he found out Y/N would also have July off from school when he over heard his mother talking to Y/N about her plans for July. Even Oscar wasn't sure if he ever booked plane tickets any faster than he did in that moment. Oscar decided to 'surprise' his family or another way to talk to Y/N. He texted her asking her to pick her up from the airport since he wanted to surprise everyone. That's how Y/N found herself awake at the crack ass of dawn since Oscar doesn't seem to understand timezones or so it seems and was landing in Melbourne at 5 am. Y/N would rather be asleep on the rare few days she got off from school without having to plan for the next year or make up a teaching plan for the next week. But here she was driving to the airport with the largest coffee mug she could find and a hoodie with Oscar's number on it. It was the warmest hoodie she owned and she had forgotten it was Oscar merchandise that she had stolen from her sibling.

Oscar was stood at the airport arrival terminal when Y/N drove her car to him. She rolled the window down, "You should be grateful I've known you for years because I was ready to leave you stranded at the airport when my alarm rang" she called out and popped her trunk open. Oscar placed his bags in and climbed into the passenger seat. "Thanks for picking me up" Oscar said. "I love you guys too much to explain to Nicole how I lost her son" Y/N replied after taking a sip of her once hot coffee. Oscar didn't really hear anything after 'i love you' honestly you wouldn't either if your crush directed those 3 words at you in any context. He gathered himself, "Take me to your place" Oscar asked rather commanded but who's asking. "What? Why?" Y/N asked now fully looking at Oscar who's eyes had travelled down to the hoodie Y/N was wearing and you could clearly see OP81 plastered all over it if you looked carefully enough since the hoodie looked like it was Y/N's favourite in her collection of clothes. "You're wearing my hoodie" Oscar pointed out. "What? This is my hoodie" she corrected. "It has my name and number on it" he corrected. And for the first time since she woke up she looked at herself and realised that she left the house in the hoodie she slept in which just happened to be Oscar's merchandise. "You support my merchandise" Oscar gleamed. "Ansel bought it, I stole it from him" she commented. Nothing was dimming Oscar's shine. He was just winning, in his eyes, since he landed.

"Why do you wanna come to my place?" she asked getting back to the topic. "I'm planning a surprise and I need to look prepared for it" he said while stealing glances at Y/N in his hoodie. "Since when do you plan surprises?" she asked. Oscar just shrugged and they drove to her apartment. Y/N helped Oscar grab his stuff from the trunk and brought him to her flat. The house was a mess but Oscar had seen worse. "There's coffee in the kitchen. The bathroom's that way. The guest bedroom is to your left. If you need anything, I'll be asleep in my room that's in front of you." she pointed around. "Are you going back to sleep?" Oscar asked with his puppy eyes. "I was going too, but you look like you want something. So spill" she stated. "Can we have breakfast together? I miss your pancakes, like the Japanese style one's you tried to make" Oscar pouted. "Those abominations can't be called pancakes. Now, I do make a really good pancake. So, for the flattery I will fulfill your wish" she offered.

Oscar got changed from the jeans he was wearing to a sweatshirt and joggers. Y/N had ditched the OP81 hoodie much to Oscar's dismay to wear another sweatshirt and joggers. He was hovering around her as she tried to make the pancakes, making her snap. "Okay, Osc, sweetheart, can you stop moving around so much. I can't work when people are in my space." she reprimanded him in the nicest way possible. Oscar took his place on the breakfast bar like a child that had been told off. Y/N served the pancakes with fresh fruits and maple syrup. "I didn't think those pancakes could get any better" Oscar moaned after taking one bite. Y/N smiled at him, "You flatter me" she smiled back. "Can you help me decide how to surprise my family?" Oscar asked. "I knew those weren't empty praises" she laughed.

Y/N was sat thinking while munching on her pancakes all the while Oscar would steal glances at her. "You should turn up to the house with flowers. I think they would like that" Y/N said after much deliberation on her part. "That doesn't sound grand" Oscar pointed out. "They are your family. IDK how to make it grand" she retorted. "Maybe you should take your time. It's like you want to get rid of me as soon as possible" Oscar pouted. This boy needs to stop pouting because for some reason his puppy eyes are working on her and she doesn't know how to get out of here, she thought. "Oscar, baby, I have holidays for the next few days before school and I would like to do stuff I can't when I'm busy" she said. Oscar lost his train of thought when she called him baby. "We can do stuff together" Oscar stammered, "As a thank you for helping me surprise my family" he finished. Y/N wasn't winning today, or ever again with Oscar for that matter. "Please" Oscar begged now holding on to both of her hands. Y/N for the first time since he became friend's with her brother looked at him, like really looked at him, his chocolate brown eyes or his cute little freckles that littered his face or the moles that were splattered across his face and neck; this stay wasn't going to end well for her she thought. She couldn't think straight when his warm hands were holding her's like they were the most fragile thing. She just nodded to him, pulling her hands away with a slight blush that was starting to form on her cheeks to put the dishes away.

Y/N and Oscar were sat on the sofa while Y/N was flipping through movies to watch on Netflix. "I thought you were sleepy" Oscar voiced. "I'm not anymore, someone wanted to have pancakes" she chided. Oscar just smiled and he looked like the cutest cat making her smile. She realised what she was doing so she quickly handed the remote to Oscar, "Watch whatever you want, I'm gonna get some stuff done around the house" she said walking to her room. Oscar switched the TV off and followed her into her room. "I can help" he offered, making Y/N jump. "Oscar, you scared me" she said. "Sorry" he apologised with a small smile. "You should get some sleep, you must be jet lagged. I'll wake you up for lunch" she said now pushing Oscar towards the guest room. "Try to get some sleep" she reiterated, closing the door behind her. That's how Oscar found himself lying on the bed while staring at the ceiling, imagining what it would be like to enjoy domestic bliss with her.

At some point in his daydreaming, Oscar fell asleep and only woke up at around 5 pm. He stumbled out of the room to a much cleaner flat and Y/N making dinner. "You're up" she said. "You didn't wake me up" he asked. "You looked so cute sleeping, I couldn't" she cooed. She thought I was cute, Oscar thought. "Cute in a OMG!! baby is cute way or cute in a damn that boy cute way" he asked. "Who's teaching you this stuff?" she laughed. Oscar just shrugged; "Obviously, OMG!! baby is cute way" she laughed. Oscar's shoulders seem to fall. "Dinner's almost done" she said getting ready to serve the food. Y/N and Oscar sat on the table with their plate of food. Oscar was playing around with his food; "Is it not good?" she asked. "No, no it's delicious." he replied. "But you haven't touched your plate" she pointed out. "I...do you still see me as the kid that your brother befriended?" Oscar mumbled. "Oscar, you are the kid my brother befriended" she highlighted. "But, do you see me as you know, someone who is older and more mature?" he questioned. "You are older now Oscar, and more mature too. You drive a Formula One car now, you have a life and career and we are all so proud of you." she said. Oscar hummed, "Are you proud of me?" he asked. "So proud. If you are worried about the season, it's your first season. You'll get better with time. The cars getting used to you, you're getting used to it. I'm sure next year will be the best ever. Mark my words" she reassured. Y/N thought Oscar was having anxiety with his career when he asked her that, but that was far from the truth.

"I know how to surprise everyone" she announced after dinner. "How?" Oscar asked. "We could throw a party at my place and then invite everyone. I think Ansel's visiting soon too. And surprise, you're here." she explained. "When will we do that?" Oscar asked. "Ansel is coming in 2 days, on Friday night we can have everyone come in. I'll send out the invites and you can greet everyone once they come in. I think they'll love it" she elaborated further. Oscar liked that he could stay here for a couple more days. "You're gonna have to help me" she said. "I will" Oscar agreed.

The next few days were spent cleaning the place, planning a menu out for the dinner, wrapping up the presents Oscar got everyone. They sent out the invites and everyone agreed to meet her at 7 pm on Friday. The two of them spent all of Friday decorating the place. You would find the two laughing along or having fun through out the whole planning. Oscar hoped that she would see him as more than just a kid. The time they spent together was precious for Oscar. He had bought her a necklace which he asked her to wear on Friday. "Oscar, this is beautiful. But it must be expensive" she said handing it back. "You should wear it today" he said placing it in her hands once again. "I can't take this. It looks so expensive" she mentioned admiring the necklace. "Please, it took me forever to pick out" Oscar begged. Y/N conceded.

They got dressed for the party. Y/N was wearing a navy blue midi dress, to highlight the necklace. She was struggling to zip up her dress which Oscar saw when he came to check up on Y/N. He quietly walked in and zipped up the dress; "Let me" he said. "Thanks" she whispered, her breath stuck in her throat as she felt his finger hover over her lower back. Before she could take the necklace out of the box, Oscar beat her to it, moving her hair aside, his fingers brushed past the small exposed area on her neck, bringing the necklace around and hooking it up. "Done" he mentioned. Y/N was looking at herself in the mirror with Oscar standing behind her, a small smile on his face. She turned around, "how does it look?" she asked. "Gorgeous" Oscar replied. Y/N was blushing and for the first time Oscar saw it. He felt his chest swell up at the thought of making her blush.

Everyone showed up almost at the same time, Oscar was waiting for everyone in the living room. The house was a bit cramped with everyone present but the laughter that could be heard echoing through the house was well worth it. Nicole almost cried when she saw her son and Chris gave him the biggest hug. Both of Y/N's parents hugged and greeted Oscar like their own son was visiting. Oscar brought out all the presents he had bought and you could hear everyone chatting away about the presents while Ansel and Oscar stood a little further away from the group; "You didn't even tell me" Ansel said skeptically. "It was supposed to be a surprise" Oscar reasoned. "Sure" Ansel replied sounding not so sure of Oscar's answer. "Don't you like the present I got you" Oscar quizzed. "Yeah yeah, I know you're trying to bribe me. Just don't take too long." Ansel said. "What do you mean by that?" Oscar asked and Ansel just shrugged his shoulders while walking away to help his sister set up the dinner.

Everyone had taken a plate and were sat where ever they could find a place. Y/N was playing with her necklace every chance she got; "Where did you get the necklace from? It is beautiful" Y/N's mother asked her. "You should ask Oscar, he got it for me" she replied after quickly swallowing the food in her mouth. "Now did he" Oscar's mother asked looking at him. "I just saw it while passing and got it" Oscar dismissed everyone. Lando will tell you, and I quote, "He sent me links to multiple luxury brand's necklaces which he vetoed within minutes of staring at them since they weren't good enough for his Y/N. Then he started dragging me around to a new shop in every city we visited and made the employee of the shop show him their entire inventory. It took him months to decide on the damn necklace. I thought I would have to get some one to craft him one" end quote. But Lando wasn't here and no one was about to know.

Oscar offered to stay back after the party even though Y/N insisted that he leave with his family. "I'm the one that wanted to surprise them. I should help you clean up." he stated. "The party was my idea" she retorted. "Let him help you Y/N. Come home early tomorrow Oscar" his father called out as everyone filed out. "Good luck" Ansel and Aldric called out simultaneously as they bid them good bye.

The house wasn't as destroyed and they were done with cleaning the place up in a few hours. It was almost 2 AM when Oscar finally sat, sprawled out on the sofa. Y/N was putting the last of the dishes away. She walked towards the sofa when her toe got caught on the mat on the floor and she extended her arms to brace herself from the fall. Oscar with his quick reflexes caught hold of her extended arms, stopping her mid-way. "You haven't outgrown your clumsiness" Oscar stated, his face inches away from hers. "I have" she whispered. "What would you do if I wasn't there to save you?" Oscar asked now pushing her back on her feet and placing her arms on her side. "I'm perfectly capable of saving myself" she retorted. "Never said you weren't. But I wouldn't mind being there for you" he retorted back. "Why would you be there for me?" she asked. "Because I like you" he said. There he said it, the words that he wanted to say for years. "Oscar" she began, this didn't sound good to Oscar. "You're my brother's best friend. I can't" she began. "But you would if I wasn't" he interrupted. "No, I wouldn't. You're younger than me" she said. "By a year, it doesn't even matter honestly" Oscar reasoned. "You probably feel this way since we've been spending a lot of time together lately" she said. "I've felt this way for years. Don't demean my feelings for you, Y/N. Do you know what you do to me?" he asked. "Oscar, you're ugh...you're you and it would never work out" she said. "You've thought about me" Oscar asked hopefully. "That's not the point" she said. "It is" Oscar pointed out. "I like you Y/N, I have for as long as I've known you. This isn't some silly crush I had when I was 12 or because of the close proximity. You make my heart beat fast and my tongue doesn't know how to speak around you. I've repressed my feelings for you for far too long. I just don't know if I've ever felt this way about anyone." Oscar said. "Oscar, you're" she began but was cut off; "I'm not acting impulsively. Take your time. I'm here for a couple more weeks. I'll leave tomorrow morning but I'll be at my house. Just think about it. Think about us, think about me. For Once" Oscar begged walking towards the guest room. While Y/N was stood there shocked, in her living room.

[wwinterwitch]

right person, all the wrong times - anthony bridgerton

summary: you and anthony have been in love with one another from the moment you met, but it seems as though nothing will ever happen between you. after you catch the attention of another gentleman, he realizes perhaps it's time to finally do something about his feelings pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!reader word count: 7.3K tags: mutual pining, best friends to lovers, angst and fluff, period-typical topics (marriage is everything, gender roles, all that stuff), daphne being match maker as always, kissing, it gets briefly suggestive like once, if i skipped anything please let me know. note: i started this show two days ago and i'm already halfway through season 2. i couldn't hold myself from writing whatever this is and i thought i'll share since it's the longest fic i've ever written. english is not my first language so writing in a way that resembles the show was a whole challenge for me!

a reblog and/or comment really helps me out as a content creator so thank you in advance if you take the time to do either!

all masterlists | buy me a coffee

You and Anthony have been best friends for years now. Even when he's a few years older than you, the two of you became inseparable shortly after knowing one another. No one seems to know or understand you quite like he does, and you've become the person he always turns to when he needs someone.

It happened just a few months after you were introduced into society. You were lucky to bump into him that night in Ms. Danbury's ballroom, and after repeated apologies and quick introductions, you stayed with him for the rest of the event.

Your families were excited to see the two of you talking, already picturing the moment when he shows up to your house and asks for your hand in marriage. However, as time passed, it was evident for everyone that nothing was ever going to happen.

And as embarrassing as it is to admit, you were just as disappointed to realize Anthony considered you to be just a friend. From day one, you were absolutely captivated by him, and you truly thought he was as interested as you were. Unfortunately, it seems as though your feelings have never been –and never will be– reciprocated.

Of course, you never let that stop you from trying to find in others what you so effortlessly found in Anthony from the moment you laid eyes on him. It hasn't been easy, but you continue to look for that special someone.

Despite everyone knowing about your proximity to the Viscount, a fair share of suitors were always there available for you. Some move past the mere privilege of dancing with you if they prove to be interesting enough, but none of them have made it far enough.

Perhaps the search would be easier if you weren't deeply in love with your best friend, but there's no way you'll ever be able to control how you feel. You can't control the butterflies in your stomach when you notice him approaching you, or how it seems as though everyone around disappears when you two are together.

Anthony doesn't contribute to making your situation any easier. His friendship is one of the greatest gifts you've ever received, but it has caused you a great deal of pain and confusion. Even when he's nothing but your friend– even when he has confided in you many times that marriage is the last thing on his mind, you can't help but notice certain things. Certain gestures, certain stares...he has surely given you reasons to believe your feelings might be reciprocated.

One of the many things he does that inevitably lifts your hopes up is the fact that he absolutely despises every possible suitor you've ever had. Whether he claims to know them and they're the worst person imaginable, or he starts speculating based on his own prejudices, it seems as though no man is worthy of you in Anthony's eyes. You've always wondered why he's so adamant about that claim.

"There you are!" Daphne excitedly greeted you one evening at yet another social gathering. "I was afraid I'd miss the chance to spend even a moment with you tonight, considering how busy you seem to be with all your suitors," she smiles, quickly glancing across the room.

"Well, I could say the same thing. I've seen you dance for most of the night," you remark. "I bet your brother is furious."

"Oh, believe me, he is! But I'm not the only one he's concerned about," her smile only grows after her insinuation. It's no secret that Daphne has always hoped for you to officially join their family, as she's convinced her brother is ridiculously in love with you. "I was only able to escape from him because he couldn't stop telling Benedict just how awful the men you were dancing or talking to are."

"He does have that habit, yes. Poor Benedict," you joke, turning around to spot the two brothers still talking.

Before Daphne could say a thing, a man approached the two of you. As you laid eyes on him, you recognized him as the first gentleman you had a dance with tonight. Both of you smiled at him as he extended his hand your way. "May I have another dance with you, my lady?"

You look at Daphne, who quickly takes a step back to let you know you can go. He gently grabs your hand once you've accepted his invitation, guiding you to the dance floor.

Mr. Demrick is a fine gentleman. He's been nothing but kind, charming and attentive, not to mention he's ridiculously handsome. This isn't the first evening you two have crossed paths, having the honor of dancing a few times before. He seems to have a strong interest in you. Your Mama has expressed many times that it's a matter of time before he's asking for your hand.

You do, however, notice a big flaw in this seemingly perfect man. He's no Anthony Bridgerton.

And speaking of, as you're dancing with Mr. Demrick's hand on your back and the other gently holding one of your own, you can't help but notice Anthony exactly where he once was. He's already looking your way and even from a distance you notice he's as stiff as ever, arms crossed, muttering things to Benedict.

It leaves you to wonder once again if he's being protective over his friend or if there's a deeper meaning to his apparent disgust for all the men that have ever shown interest in you.

After that night, Mr. Demrick's interest in you was more evident than ever. All Daphne could talk about with Lady Bridgerton and your Mama during supper the next day was the different bouquet of flowers he sent you and how breathtakingly beautiful they were.

"Needless to say, I'm very happy for you," Daphne seems to be finished with her talk about the flowers, turning to look at you from across the table. "You two make a very lovely match."

"No doubt you'll be very happy with such a nice and handsome gentleman for a husband," Lady Bridgerton agrees.

Everyone quickly turns to look at Anthony when he lets out a quick chuckle, looking down at his food and pretending he was barely listening.

"Something wrong, Anthony?" Lady Bridgerton asks shortly after with a rather serious tone.

He finally looks up, smiling at his mother. "Not at all. Please, continue with your...delightful chat."

You glared at him and despite you trying to ignore it, something deep within you made it impossible not to say something else regarding Mr. Demrick just to upset Anthony further. "He has invited my family to a picnic to meet his own," you say, noticing the way your best friend immediately turns to look at you with a horrified expression.

"We're really looking forward to that," your mother chimes in, trying to keep the conversation going after Anthony's interruption.

"Cheers to that!" Eloise exclaimed ironically, and you noticed she was looking directly at her eldest brother. "A man brave enough to pursue the heart of a lady is always a reason to celebrate, right?"

Now it was Colin and Benedict the ones who couldn't hold back their laughter after noticing their brother's reaction to that comment.

"What's so funny?" Hyacinth asks, looking impossibly confused.

Eloise's comment evidently made everything a lot worse. Little Gregory joins his sister in their inquiry to know what was going on, until Lady Bridgerton ordered them to stay quiet.

You didn't like El's insinuation one bit, as it does nothing to help with your delusions, but at least you were appreciative of the fact that she was willing to be with you on this one despite her disgust towards the whole idea of marriage and the position a woman is put in because of it. Perhaps she's willing to overlook that detail for the sake of upsetting one of her siblings.

As soon as dinner was over, Anthony offered to accompany you and your mother outside to your carriage. You didn't protest, and quickly calmed Daphne and Lady Bridgertons worries after they started apologizing fervently for his behavior during the evening.

Anthony immediately knew you were upset. It was evident in the way you walked in complete silence without acknowledging he was there next to you.

"Can I have a word with you before you leave?" Anthony asks as soon as the three of you are outside the Bridgerton home.

"Is it okay? If you're too tired we can leave right away."

"It's perfectly fine, dear. I'll wait in the carriage," your Mama replies. "Thank you, Lord Bridgerton, but there's no need," she quickly added when Anthony offered his arm to help her walk down the steps of the entrance. "Please reiterate my gratitude to my dear Violet for having us today."

"Of course," he nodded, returning your Mama's smile. Even when he behaves rather poorly, your mother absolutely adores him. It warms your heart to see how good they get along.

Your Mama walks to the carriage, leaving you and Anthony alone. "I apologize for my behavior tonight."

"I don't think your apologies are sincere."

"I don't know what else do you expect, if I'm being honest," he replies, and immediately knows he has to say something because of your reaction to that comment. "That man is not a good match for you. He's not on your level, and I'm quite certain that he won't be able to make you happy."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Because I know you. And I know when someone is not right for you."

You scoffed. "No one ever seems to be good enough for me."

Anthony nodded. "Yes, exactly."

"Can't you just be happy for me? Or at least pretend that you are?" you ask, exasperated. It's one thing that he doesn't reciprocate your feelings, but to stand here and claim to be your best friend when he acts like this is something entirely different. Something you can't and won't stand for. "I don't understand why you have to try to ruin every chance I get to find someone."

"Because," he says sternly, as if it was obvious. But is it really that obvious? Is it obvious to you, or even to him?

A dim light of hope shines through in the depths of your heart, knowing very well how dangerous that has been in the past. "Because what?"

He stood there in front of you, looking rather troubled. You notice the way he hesitates and for a moment you almost could've sworn he wanted to take a step closer to you.

But that never happened, and instead all you got was a "because you're my best friend, and I care about you," from him. The same thing you've heard over and over. That godforsaken phrase that has shattered your heart into million pieces over the years.

You try to hide your disappointment, looking up at him with a stern glance. "If I'm truly your best friend, you'd support my decisions instead of brutally questioning them like you always do."

With that said, you didn't wait for any sort of answer as you quickly walked towards your carriage, barely acknowledging your driver and your mother as you headed back home.

Anthony watches as you walk away, once again feeling like a complete fool for not saying something else. For not daring to take that extra step and reveal the real reason why he won't accept anyone else as your husband. It's quite simple, really. The real reason is that he wants to be the one you marry.

But he didn't say anything yet again, and all that's left for him to do is go back inside his house to listen to Eloise and Daphne calling him a fool while the rest agree with them. He doesn't say much about their claims, as they couldn't possibly be more true.

This is exactly what he deserves for acting so cowardly. He gets shamed by his siblings for not doing something about his feelings while you go home, probably thinking about that absurd picnic with Mr. Demrick until you go to sleep.

Next day, you try to forget all about Anthony Bridgerton and focus on your date with Mr. Demrick. Your families were sitting around all together while he asked if you would like to take a walk with him.

He's lovely. Offering his arm for you, complimenting you every chance he gets, making you laugh with his endless anecdotes and quick remarks. He's everything you should need, yet your mind wanders back to your best friend. You can't help it. All you want is for him to be the one kissing your hand and telling you you're the most captivating sight of all.

Your Mama could barely hold her excitement when she read what Lady Whistledown had to say about you and Mr. Demrick after the families were seen spending time together. "The union of the season", she called it. And it shouldn't come as a surprise, as both of you come from wealthy and respected families. It's evident everyone takes a great interest in the possible union.

Still, you were very much intimidated by it, as all eyes will be on you until there's news about an engagement.

And just as you predicted, every lady turned to look at you as you went to visit the modist for a new dress for the next ball. You must look absolutely perfect to earn the approval of everyone and capture Mr. Demrick's heart for good.

At that point, the realization finally started to settle. You're soon becoming a wife, moving to your own home and starting a family. And all of that with a man that you respect and care for, but are incapable of loving.

But perhaps this arrangement will make your feelings for Anthony become nothing but a memory. A memory you won't even care to think about when you have such a wonderful husband by your side.

Days passed and Mr. Demrick continued to send all sorts of gifts to your house. You made the choice of inviting him over so the two of you could spend more time together before the next ball. He was sitting on a couch with your mother while you played the piano for them.

"That was certainly a very beautiful performance," he says once you're done playing. "And you said you composed that yourself?"

"Indeed. I like spending my days playing the piano," you smile brightly.

The entire reunion was quickly ruined when someone burst inside the room. You turn around in your seat to find Anthony standing there, barging in completely unannounced and unexpectedly. It was unclear to you why you felt the need to stand up from your seat to greet him but you did, feeling your heart rapidly beating in your chest at the sight of him.

Oh, how badly you've missed him.

"What are you doing here, Anthony?" you ask, immediately remembering your soon-to-be fiancée and your mother are also in the room. "I'm afraid I'm with a guest right now. Whatever it is, it'll have to wait, my lord."

You never call him that, ever. It was evident by his reaction that he absolutely hated the fact that you refer to him as such.

"My apologies. I didn't mean to disrupt, but I believe it's an urgent matter."

"My lord, I–"

"I must insist," he quickly cuts you off, looking rather desperate.

You try to come up with something to say, knowing you should stand your ground and make him leave, but you were so happy to be in his presence again that the feelings completely clouded your judgment.

"No worries, my lady," you hear Mr. Demrick say, standing up from his seat and sending you a reassuring smile. "I'm sure whatever Lord Bridgerton is here for requires your immediate attention, given his insistence," he added shortly after, giving Anthony a not so friendly look. "I'm sure we can visit the gardens while we wait?"

Your mother nodded after his question. "Of course. That should be more than enough time for Lord Bridgerton to communicate his urgent matter."

Neither Mr. Demrick nor your mother were pleased by Anthony's presence, but you couldn't thank them enough from sparing you this one time. You know this man like no one else does, and you're certain that he wouldn't take a no for an answer and that would've made the situation a lot worse.

"Perfect," Mr. Demrick says before gesturing for your mother to lead the way. Before he leaves the room, he gives Anthony one last look before turning his attention back to you. "Perhaps we should discuss where you'd like your new piano to be in our future home once I'm back. I'd love for my wife to continue doing what she enjoys, especially when she's so extraordinary at it."

You smile after his comment, trying your best not to look at Anthony until Mr. Demrick is officially gone because you can imagine his features are clearly expressing his thoughts regarding that last comment. Once both of them are out of sight, you finally look at him.

"What is wrong with you?" you snapped almost immediately. "I'm glad Mr. Demrick is a patient and understanding man! He could've easily decided to leave the very instant you walked through that door demanding to have a word with me."

"I think he's captivated enough, my dear. I doubt you'll ever get rid of him," he replies, evidently disgusted by the thought of him.

"I don't intend to get rid of him. And do not call me that again."

"Why not? I've always called you that."

"That was before I met Mr. Demrick. Now, it is completely inappropriate."

"Oh, please. It's not like you're already his wife."

"But I will be soon," you point out. He's quiet after that, which gives you room to continue talking. "You must understand that a married woman cannot have other men calling her such things."

"So am I supposed to start addressing you like you're nothing but a stranger? Or perhaps you'd like me to already start calling you Mrs. Demrick? Is that how things will go? You marry this insufferable man and I have to just accept the fact that I no longer have my best friend?"

"I don't know what else you want me to say," you mutter, feeling like you could cry any minute now. "This was going to happen sooner or later."

"It was never supposed to be this way," he sighs, and your soul aches for him when you notice the way he's looking at you. Defeated, exhausted, disappointed, frustrated. You've never seen this particular mixture of emotions reflected in his eyes before.

"And how exactly it was supposed to be?"

Anthony was quiet, too quiet for your liking. You see his hesitation once again and you brace yourself to hear yet another confirmation of the fact that you're nothing but a friend. It doesn't matter that he glances at you from across the room like he can't help himself. It doesn't matter that all the Bridgerton siblings have made insinuations about you and Anthony's relationship. It's all in your head, because you're nothing but a friend.

In a surprising turn of events, you watch as he takes a few steps closer to you. He's cautious of every move, not wanting to scare you– or himself. The beat of your heart speeds up and your hands shake slightly when he's finally in front of you.

You look up at him like a deer coming face to face with a hunter, but in this case you're unable to run away for your life. He's dangerously close to you, gently moving his hand up to touch your face.

The second his fingers brush against your cheek, a shiver travels down your spine and you can't help but close your eyes because his touch is absolutely heavenly. Your breath hitches in the back of your throat when his digits trace down your neck until his hand settles there, holding you with his fingers behind your ear and his thumb still caressing the skin of your face.

"It should go like this," he whispers, and you finally open your eyes to see him looking at you with such adoration, you were certain your legs could betray you any second now and completely give in, causing you to fall straight to the ground.

He leans slightly closer after seconds of just contemplating you, and even though you closed your eyes again, feeling his nose brushing against yours, you're able to snap out of your trance before he could actually kiss you.

"It's not right..." you're able to say, pulling back from him but not nearly enough. He's still very much holding you.

"It is, my dear. I can tell you wish for this as badly as I do."

"Please, Anthony..." you try, but your body betrays you when your hand is resting on his bicep.

"I've always adored the way my name sounds when it's you the one calling me," he confesses, and your stomach fills with butterflies.

You realize he's leaning closer again, but before he can do so you manage to gather all traces of self-control that were almost stripped from you to move back, setting free of his touch.

Anthony stands there, absolutely confused and heartbroken, and is right then when you can't keep your tears in any longer.

"I'm afraid it is too late," you mutter. This has got to be the most painful thing you'll ever have to do. "I'm getting engaged soon."

"But you're not anyone's yet. There's still time if you haven't accepted any proposals."

"Please, don't make this any harder than it should be," you sob, wiping your tears away.

"Darling–"

"Believe me, no one would want this more than me," you interrupted. "You have no idea how many times I've found myself fantasizing about this very moment. For you to say all of this, to be yours forever..." Tears continue to roll down your cheeks and the sight is too much for Anthony to endure, as his own eyes are starting to fill with tears as well. "But it is not possible anymore. I'm sorry, I really am. I won't ask you to understand or accept my decision, but I'd appreciate that you can at least respect it."

"I won't. I refuse to let you marry someone else when we both know we belong together."

"Anthony, Mr. Demrick–"

"You still can't even call your future husband by his own name?"

You sigh, frustrated. "Charlie will become my husband. I don't doubt that he'll be an excellent companion, and that you'll find someone else in time. Soon enough, we'll be nothing but a memory."

"Is that really what you want?" he asks, and your heart sinks when you notice his voice breaking slightly.

You take a few seconds to answer. Of course that's not what you want. You want Anthony to be your husband. You'll always want him and him only. But it's already too late for any of that.

Feeling more heartbroken than ever before, you have to look back at Anthony and fight the urge to run to his arms. "Yes. And I also want you to leave."

Anthony was barely keeping it together, not wanting to cry in front of you. He's once again taking a few steps closer to you, but stops at a reasonable distance to grab your hand to kiss it. "Very well, my lady," he says with a quick bow of his head. "I apologize for wasting so much of your time. Let me assure you, I'll never bother you again."

He let your hand go and immediately turned to the door to leave. As soon as you no longer hear his footsteps, you fall to your knees and allow yourself to cry, feeling like the sorrows from this conversation will haunt you for the rest of your days.

Knowing Mr. Demrick and your mother could be here any minute, you decided to stand up from the ground as soon as you could to lock yourself in your room, where you could be away from everyone for a while until you feel ready to go downstairs and pretend you're content with this life that you've chosen for yourself today.

You really know you shouldn't, as you've played a part just as big as his in the downfall of everything you could've had together, but you can't help it as you curse Anthony for taking so long. You curse him for deciding to do something about his affection for you when it's far too late. And most importantly, you curse him because despite knowing it's over, you are certain that there's nothing you can do to ever get over your feelings for him.

As soon as you realize you're being unfair by putting all the blame on him, you also curse yourself for being as blind and coward as he was. And you curse life itself while you're at it, because you feel like making everyone and everything responsible for not being able to live the life that you wanted.

―

It's been a few days after the last time you and Anthony spoke. Just days, but it has felt like years and years without him. He hasn't reached out to you, and you couldn't deny that not having him around was absolute torture. There was no greater pain than this.

But you were hopeful that you could see him again at tonight's ball. It was all you could think about as you were getting ready.

"You look lovely, sister," the youngest of your family says, watching as one of the maids is finishing with your hair. "I can't wait to join all of you next season!"

"Thank you, my dearest," you smile at her. "I cannot wait for that either. Perhaps I can help you choose your dress and do your hair for your first ball."

"Yes, please!"

Your youngest sister stayed in your room with you until it was time for everyone to leave. Your father waited by the door while your mother put all of your siblings in line to check their appearance and make sure everyone was looking flawless.

Like the Bridgertons, your family was also quite large. Your older sister is already married so she no longer lives with you, but your parents still have a handful of children to take care of. Your two older brothers haven't married yet and neither have you. There's also your little sister, who's debuting next season, and your baby brother who's barely ten years old.

To this day, you have no idea how they were able to handle the chaos that six children can bring. For that, you admire them deeply.

Once your mother made sure everything was in order, you and your brothers followed her and your father to the carriage. They start a conversation, but you're barely paying any attention, as Anthony is keeping your head occupied again.

Eventually, you reach the residence where the ball's taking place and the five of you make your way inside. As all of you are standing outside the doors of the hall where the event is taking place, you feel a hand reaching out to grab yours. You turn around to look at your mother staring at you with a sympathetic smile.

"I'm so sorry, Mama," you say out of nowhere, though it's practically the only thing you've been able to say to her lately.

"You made the right choice, dear," she reassures you. "Are you ready?"

You nod, inhaling deeply before your mother lets go of you, standing with your father as they wait for you to take the first step. As soon as all of you are entering the room, you notice everyone staring your way, their eyes still filled with expectancy and excitement.

They still believe you're going to marry Mr. Demrick.

You quickly scan the room as you walk down the stairs, the familiar feeling in your stomach appearing when you spot Anthony along with his siblings, his eyes never once leaving you. Despite everything that has happened, he still looks at you like you're the only person in that room.

Your parents go off one way to mingle with other parents attending the event while your siblings scatter around the ballroom to greet their friends and find possible matches.

Having a chance to talk to Anthony was the only reason you decided to attend. Still, you didn't know how and when it'd be okay for you to approach him. Things didn't end on the best of terms, so it's normal for you to have your doubts.

Instead of immediately approaching him, you walk around the room, never losing sight of him. You couldn't help but smile to yourself the first time you catch him looking around the room, unsuccessful to locate you.

"I was hoping to see you tonight," you hear Daphne's voice next to you, sending you back to reality. "You look as beautiful as ever."

"Thank you, so do you."

Your friend smiles at you, briefly looking to where you previously were. "Are you looking for someone?"

"No, not at all," you immediately shake your head, imitating her smile.

"I apologize for what I'm about to say. I don't believe it is the time nor place, but I cannot hold myself back," she says with obvious concern as her smile is replaced with a frown. "My brother told me everything that happened the other day. I don't think I'll ever be able to express how sorry I am."

"Oh, Daphne, that's really not necessary..."

"But I think it is. As ashamed as this makes me, I'm afraid I was the one responsible for his actions."

"What do you mean?"

"I couldn't help but notice the way you two look at each other, or the way you smile when you're together. Believe me, I've never seen my dear brother so infatuated with anyone else before. To see you slip away from him and him doing nothing about it was not only painful, but it angered me enough to intervene," she explains. "After much convincing to do, I finally made him realize he needed to do something about his feelings. Evidently, I stood out of line and got myself involved in something I never should have, and for that I'm terribly sorry."

"You didn't do anything wrong. I know you had good intentions. There's absolutely nothing to forgive."

Daphne reaches out for your hands, relief evident in her features. "I was afraid you wouldn't want to talk to me again. You had all the right to do so, but I'm happy to see I was mistaken."

"I would never do such a thing."

She nodded, glad to know you two are still friends. "Well, with that situation out of the way, allow me to say I'm still very happy about you and Mr. Demrick. My love for my brother won't change the fact that I support your decision entirely."

You debated whether or not to say something, but the hesitation quickly slipped your mind when you looked at Daphne. She's been a great friend, you know there's nothing wrong with confessing this news to her.

She looks a bit confused when you grab her arm to guide her to a corner of the room, as far away from other people as possible. "I appreciate your words, but I'm afraid Mr. Demrick and I are no longer courting."

"Really? Did my imprudence make him change his mind?" she asks, worried she was to blame for this.

"Not at all. He actually proposed to me that very same evening."

"And...you said no?"

"I couldn't marry him, Daphne," you sighed. You'll never forgive yourself from breaking a good man's heart in the way you did with him, but deep down you knew it was the right thing to do. "I couldn't doom him to spend the rest of his life with a woman that doesn't love him the way he deserves."

"I don't judge you for it. My Mama has always taught us that marriage should be formed out of love. It's the only way a union like this can work," you friend offers, immediately wanting to show her support.

"If anything, my dear friend, I should be thanking you for your intervention," you quickly add. "If you never had that chat with your brother, I would've been engaged to a different man by now."

"I...Oh my, are you–?"

"I was as much of a fool as him. I could've said something a long time ago and yet I remained silent. And when he went to my house to give us a chance, I was once again deciding not to do a thing about my feelings. It was only when he left that I realized I made a terrible mistake."

Daphne is once again reaching for your hands, looking more excited than ever after your words. "You have no idea how pleased I am to hear you say all of this."

"You don't think it's too late, do you? I came here to talk to him, after all."

"No, no, not at all! He was devastated when he came back, I've never seen him like that in my life. We got to talk a little– and it's probably best if he's the one who confesses his true feelings in detail to you personally, but there's no doubt in my mind that from everything he said to me, he's deeply, madly and truly in love with you."

"I assure you I love him just as much."

"I don't doubt it either. And I think I speak for all my family when I say there's no one else we would like to be Anthony's wife but you."

"That makes me so happy to hear," you say with obvious excitement. Even Daphne looked like she could start crying any second. "Should I go talk to him now?"

"Please, I'm sure you can't wait any longer! He's over there, with Benedict and Colin."

"I shall tell you how it goes then."

"It'll go wonderful," she assures you, giving you one last smile before she allows you to leave.

Every second of that walk towards Anthony felt like centuries. Your mind spins with all the possible scenarios and everything you're going to say to him, but by the time you're in front of the three siblings your mind is completely blank.

"Gentlemen," was all you could say. The three of them immediately greet you with a quick bow. You notice Benedict and Colin exchanging looks, while Anthony's eyes are fixated on you. "I'd like to have a word with you– alone, if that's okay."

"Of course, my lady," was all he said.

"Oh my, you could cut the tension with a knife," Colin says suddenly. Anthony is so focused on you he barely acknowledges his comment.

"Shush, brother!" Benedict quickly warns, lightly pushing his little brother so he would start walking. "Excuse us," he smiled your way, starting to follow Colin.

You and Anthony are finally alone, but the people around you are still bothering you. "Is it okay if we go outside for a walk?"

"If it's okay with you," he says, a bit confused at first since you two had apparently agreed that you must keep your distance.

Anthony follows you to the gardens in complete silence. The music and chatter could still be heard. You were glad to realize it was only the two of you outside.

"What is it that you wanted to say to me?" he immediately asks, starting to walk next to you.

"I wanted to apologize for everything that happened."

"No need. Like you said, you made your choice and I'll have to respect it."

"It was the wrong choice. I see that now."

He was a bit surprised to hear that, but agreed with you nonetheless. "I'm afraid I can't say otherwise. At least I hope you find comfort in the fact that Mr. Demrick will be a fine husband, as you so fervently claim."

The two of you have reached a part of the garden that surrounds the two of you with large hedges decorated with beautiful flowers. It was then that you stopped walking and turned to look at him, knowing no one would be able to see or interrupt you here.

"I wanted to let you know that Mr. Demrick proposed and I said no," you blurted out simply, not wanting to keep it from him any longer.

"Why?" was all he could say.

"Because," you say, and this time it was painfully obvious.

Anthony couldn't believe your revelation at first, which would explain why he didn't move from his spot at first. As the realization of it all starts to sink in, he immediately walks closer to you and grabs your face with his hands. This time, you let him touch you as your hands move up to place them above his own.

"You're not marrying him?" he asks, barely above a whisper, still not entirely believing it. He really thought he had lost you forever.

You shake your head, unable to hold back your smile any longer. "There's only one man I'd like to marry."

Anthony smiles wider than ever after your comment and he's not able to control himself any longer, immediately closing the space between the two of you as he kisses you.

His kiss is everything you expected and more. So gentle, yet so passionate. It makes you feel like you're the most delicate thing in the entire world, but he must take a taste, so he does eagerly, yet carefully.

The moment doesn't last as much as you expected as he's abruptly pulling away. "Forgive me, I shouldn't have done that."

He takes a step back but he's gladly surprised when you wrap your arms around his neck to stop him. "Don't," you immediately say, "I want you close."

"I really shouldn't, my dear," he insisted, but you can tell it takes everything in him not to kiss you again at that very same moment.

"Is that so?" you tease him, inching just enough. "So you won't continue to kiss me? Not even if I'm so clearly desperate for you to do so?"

He's really trying to remind himself to be a gentleman. "I don't...it's not appropriate."

"Alright, them. It's perfectly fine, Mr. Bridgerton," you promptly agree, moving back from him entirely as you start walking away from him. "Perhaps we should go back then, before anyone notices our absence."

You're barely able to turn around to face him before he's one again in front of you, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you in for another kiss.

This time, the kiss is anything but gentle. His tongue explores your mouth with a hunger completely unknown to you as his hands explore your body. The hand previously holding the back of your neck trails your collarbone before it explores further down, cupping one of your breasts while the other holds you close to his body, resting dangerously close to your ass.

His lips move down to your jaw until they settle on the skin of your neck. You close your eyes as you enjoy the way he explores you, a few moans escaping past your lips that only seem to encourage him further.

"Anthony," you whisper into the darkness of the night, holding onto his shoulders for dear life while he kisses all over your neck.

"You're such a delight, my love," he mutters against your skin. "You drive me absolutely mad."

He moves back to your lips now, your mind clouded with desire for him and making it impossible for you to think of anything else other than how badly you need him to continue to touch you and kiss you. You could never get tired of this.

But much to your disappointment, he's pulling away from you again shortly after. His forehead rests against yours as both of you are gasping for air. You open your eyes when he's no longer leaning against you, just to catch him looking down at you with a smile.

"You're so beautiful," he comments, one of his fingers tracing your lower lip. "I could kiss these lips all day if I could."

"And I'd have no complaints about that."

He chuckles after your comment before taking a second to contemplate your beauty under the moonlight. "I deeply regret wasting so much time we could've spent as husband and wife."

"We have many years to make amends for that."

"Is that so?" he asks with a smile, his arms wrapped around your waist to keep you close.

"Well, that is if you ask for my hand."

"We'll go back to the ball and I'll talk to your father right away."

You fake to be offended by his comment. "Without asking for my opinion on the matter, Lord Bridgerton?"

"Forgive me, how rude of me," he follows along with your theatrics, but you immediately notice the shift in his eyes before he continues. They look softer than ever and shine as bright as all the stars in the sky combined. And you feel warm, at peace, so loved by the man standing before you. "My dearest, from the moment I met you, I knew we were destined to be together. You not only captivated me with your beauty, but with everything that you are. And as I started to know you, you kept proving me right. I saw it in the way you'd stay practicing your music for hours with such intent and passion. I saw it in the way you care so deeply about the ones fortunate enough to have you in their lives. I saw it in the way my mother instantly adored you, and how Hyacinth wouldn't stop asking me to invite you over so she could play with you. There's no doubt in my mind that you are the one for me."

You were completely speechless, absolutely mesmerized by his words. He takes a moment to gently wipe a few tears falling down your cheeks. He has always said to you how he's terrible at things like this, yet here he is proving himself wrong.

"If all previous words hold any room for confusion, allow me to clear it all right away. I've been yours from the moment we met and I couldn't possibly be more in love with you. And there's nothing that would make me happier than spending the rest of my life with you," he continues, finally taking a step back to grab both of your hands as he kneels in front of you. "Would you make me the honor of accepting me as your husband?"

You couldn't stop smiling at that point, immediately nodding after his question. "Yes. Now and forever, it'll always be yes."

Anthony kisses both of your hands before standing up to pull you in for a hug. "It pleases me to hear you accept. For a moment, I feared the tears were a bad sign."

You laugh at his little joke before breaking the hug. "Perhaps we should get back. I'm afraid we've been gone for quite a while now."

"That shouldn't be much of a problem now that we're engaged. I shall ask to have a word with your father as soon as we get back– and ask my mother for her ring."

"Is it okay if I inform Daphne?"

"I have absolutely no objections if you decide to announce the news to every person inside that ballroom, my love. Let everyone know you'll be the next Viscountess. Nothing would make me happier."

He offers his arm and you immediately accept it, starting to walk back to the ball with him– your future husband. At that very moment, you've sworn you've never been happier.

[princessmaybank]

Sick Day With Mommy

Pairings: Sick!Boyfriend!JJ x Fem!Girlfriend!Reader

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Handjob, Spit, Blowjob, Mommy kink, etc.

Summary: JJ is sick and can only think of one remedy.

Author's Note: It's been a while, here's a quickie 😘

"Oh my poor baby, how can I help?" I ask sitting next to my boyfriend who is currently groaning in bed. I reached my hand up to touch his chest for comfort and he placed his on top of mine. "I don't knowww." JJ whined. "I'm sorry Jay..here I'll go make you something to eat." I smile and stand up before he pulls me back down. "Nooo I want you princess.." He whined again. I lightly giggle to myself and hug him. "You need to eat baby." I say trying to convince him. He shakes his head 'no' before telling me he's not hungry.

I sit there holding him for a little bit longer before trying to stand again. JJ pulled me back down so he was holding me again. "Baby, please just let me go make you some food." He nods lightly and loosens his grip on me.

I walk to the kitchen and start preparing a homemade chicken noodle soup for him. While I wait I grab the thermometer and head back to his room.

"Here put this in your mouth." I push the thermometer close to his mouth. "That's normally my line princess." He chuckles and I roll my eyes before shoving it under his tongue.

"101.2, Jay you need to go to the doctor." I say calmly but it just makes JJ's eyes go wide. "No! No doctors!" He shouts. "Easy Jay..but you need to get checked out." I sit next to him and rub his thigh gently. "You can check me out all you want, don't need a doctor f'that!" He teased causing me to roll my eyes again. "Plus my last doctor told me that sex is the best medicine-" I cut him off with laughter. "Is your doctor cousin Ricky?" Before heading out I kiss his forehead. "He's the best! He'd prescribe weed and beer too!" He shouts as I walk into the kitchen.

When I come back with his soup, he is half asleep on his phone, scrolling through Tiktok. "Baby, sit up you need to eat." I say kindly, setting his food down next to him. "You sitting on my face, doesn't require sitting up. Actually it would be easier if I laid down." He shimmied down a bit more. "Your throne m'lady." JJ points to his face. Once again my eyes roll back.

"If I suck your dick will you shut up and eat your soup?" I've never seen his eyes glimmer so fast. Shaking his head with a violent yes, he sat up just enough for me.

I sink down between his legs then pull down his pajama pants and his boxers as well. He springs free from the fabric that was holding him back for so long. His hard cock was dripping as he throbbed under my gaze. "Don't just stare it baby, please fuckin' touch me." He says through shaky breaths, watching my every movement.

My hand moves to my mouth and I gather my spit into my hand before reaching out to stroke him with it. The pumps are painfully slow at first, even I can admit that, but he seemed to be enjoying himself.

"F-Fuck baby...speed it up please.." I hear him whine above me. If he wasn't sick right now, I would act like a brat, but I guess he gets a pass today. My hand starts speeding up its pace. I spit on his cock to lather it more in my saliva so my hand can glide easier.

For a moment I look at JJ and our eyes meet. He's so gorgeous with his jaw dropped, head hanging back, and sweat on his brow. "Oh shit baby- don't look at me like that." He says, not breaking eye contact. "Like what Jay?" I keep my eyes on him as my tongue pokes out just enough to lick his tip.

JJ's head tips back and his eyes close as I wrap my soft lips around his pretty pink tip. I relax my throat before I take him all the way down. "Mmm" A moan spilled from my lips, vibrating his cock. "Oh p-please mo-mommy don't stop-" He whimpered. Jay had never called me that before. It was new and enough to excite me. I needed to hear it more.

JJ's wish was my command, so I picked up my pace and never stopped. His tip was nearly gagging me but I knew I could take it. Jay's hand reached down and wrapped into my hair, tugging as hard as he could. "Y-yes mommy- oh mo-mommy just like that-" He whined. His eyes look to mine for a moment before tossing his head back. "You're so h-hot m-mommy- p-please let me cum- I'll be a good boy- I'll eat the soup- please let me cum!" He begged and it was the most beautiful sentence I have ever heard.

"Cum for mommy baby, you can do it-" I encouraged. His hips jerked as he clawed at my arm with one hand. "Fuck- fuck-fuck fuck mommy!" He screamed as his cum shot down my throat.

After I clean up I come back and sit with him. "That was the best blowie I've ever had- thank you baby." JJ panted. I smiled at him and let him calm down before feeding him his soup.

"Yeah this is delicious baby- but I still think you'd taste better-" He laughed. I shake my head no and giggle. "Let's get that fever down and I'll do all the face sitting you want."

And just like that JJ was so excited to do anything to feel better faster.

[viviennevermillion]

love languages

✧ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: hsr debut post, hope this does well. i'm only at chapter 2 part 1 so pls bare we me. (gn!reader), aeons can walk among mortals for this

✧ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: bloom in the dark — emorie

✧ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: blade, dan heng, jing yuan, luocha, march 7th, nanook, yaoshi

✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: some angst & hint at character death in blade's because i'm still figuring out how to write anything but angst for a character whose main objective is that he wants to die, i had way too much fun making the aeons eldritch

✧ giving: gifts

As much as Blade loved you, as much as he treasured the memories he shared with you and as much as he'd hate to cause you pain or grief; you were all too familiar with his predicament. You had been ever since you agreed to stay by his side, to love him for as long as you had together. That was the price you'd pay for loving a man who considered himself dead in spirits already. A shell of who he once was.

Part of him felt guilty for indulging you; how could he call himself yours when he'd take the exit from his cursed immortality if it presented itself before him tomorrow? How could he promise you his heart if he couldn't promise you a future?

He knew there was a chance he might outlive you by centuries. He knew there was a chance he'd say goodbye to you in a month. Still, you were willing to be with him, through all the uncertainty.

So he gifts you things to remember him by, should he part from you too soon for your liking. Some of them were expensive; after all he had more than enough life behind him to no longer be bound by material limits. Some of them were simple trinkets or flowers he preserved using glycerine. All of them held meaning but the overarching message was: "We were born in different times. If it were for the natural order of things, we never would have even met. I've been suffering since long before I met you. And yet, curiously, despite all; I treasure every moment I had with you. I'm glad to have loved you."

✧ receiving: physical touch

One thing Blade would have never expected when he met you; but was more than glad to realize, was that you could make him forget his anger and pain, even if it was for just a while; even if it always inevitably returned.

He loved falling asleep in your arms. It was the closest thing to the peace and salvation he craved that he could currently have. For just a few hours, he was content. He had forgotten what that felt like.

He loved the feeling of your fingers carding through his long, dark hair. And you loved the smile you so rarely saw on his face when you did this. Blade's breathing would calm and he'd nuzzle your neck as he was being held in your arms.

Blade also loves waking up in the middle of the night, feeling you shift in bed beside him and pressing a few lazy kisses to his lips before he fell back asleep.

He loves the way you tend to his scars, how you seem to wash the pain off his body with your caring touch; despite feeling guilty for how he has made you worry again. You'd end up disinfecting and bandaging his wounds and sometimes he had to chuckle at how you treated him as if he was fragile, despite having likely seen more hardships than you could ever imagine.

✧ giving: acts of service

Dan Heng doesn't really know how to express his love for you at first so he defaults to helping you out however he can.

He helps you with little jobs around the Astral Express and loves to team up with you for any missions or chores that fall on both of your plates.

Especially with all the knowledge he gathered from the archives and basically living in there; he's more than ready to help you figure out any mysteries you encounter on your journey with the Astral Express.

If he needs to explain anything to you or answer a question you have about stuff like the Aeons or any factions you encountered, he'll often pull you onto his lap at the desk and show you important info about it in a book or online. "I hope I could answer your questions. Did this help you?", he then asks you, looking into your eyes. "Yup!", you shoot him a smile and give him a quick kiss to the lips which leaves him blushing and just staring at you for a while.

"Hey, Astral Express to Dan Heng, you still there?", you chuckle and wave your hand in front of his eyes. He just blinks like, twice and then picks you up bridal style: "Come on, let's figure out that task Himeko gave you." He's just trying to distract from the fact that you flustered him.

Sometimes he tries to cook for you. The emphasis is on tries. You'll walk into the train kitchen and he'll be there stirring something in the frying pan and glancing at a recipe. "What are you doing there, love?", you ask and kiss his cheek. "I'm making lunch for you", he states and you hug him. "Aww, that's so sweet of you!", you press a few appreciative kisses to his lips, "wait why does it smell burnt?" "What-"

✧ receiving: quality time

Dan Heng is what we call 'a good listener'. He's not the best conversationalist but he likes to hear you talk and he remembers stuff you told him that even you have forgotten about until he one day just brings it up out of nowhere.

He loves to spend the time between trailblazing expeditions just hanging out with you. You check your phone and receive a text from him like "Hey, want to come over to my room? 🫀"

"?" "March told me that I should add a heart to my messages to make you feel more loved. Did I not do it correctly?" "Dan Heng, sweetie, no..."

You enter his room and he has made you two cups of coffee, the only thing he's actually good at "cooking". The two of you have decided to watch a movie and lay down on Dan Heng's mattress. "I can feel the bones in my back snapping in half, how do you sleep on this?", you raise your eyebrow. "I don't think it's that bad", he mumbles, seeming lost in thought.

While watching the movie, he has his arms wrapped around you. His only opinion about it is "it was good".

Also enjoys playing board games with you, specifically card games. You're pretty equally matched so there's no telling who wins this round. When he wins, you ask him what he wants as a reward and he just gives you a soft smile and tells you a kiss will do.

✧ giving: physical touch

Jing Yuan is a fairly affectionate man behind closed doors. He doesn't leave for work without giving you as many goodbye kisses as you want and doesn't let go of you throughout the whole night while he sleeps. You could get up and grab a glass of water from the kitchen, as soon as you return, Jing Yuan wraps his arms around you once more; even when he's in deep sleep.

He enjoys just sitting idly with you, both of you doing your own things and he's just holding your hand or has a hand resting on your thigh. He also loves when you lean your head on his shoulder and as soon as he feels you do that, he turns his head to place a kiss on your forehead.

Sometimes you'll be reading a book while sitting between his legs and he ends up pressing multiple kisses to your cheek or trailing them down your neck. He smiles against your skin everytime he does this. He's not always seeking to touch you but he has his clingy 10 minutes where he wants attention and sometimes that happens to interfere with whatever it is you're doing at the current moment.

Most of the time you can't resist indulging him and just kissing him for a while, burying your hands in his hair or cupping his cheeks gently.

✧ receiving: quality time

Jing Yuan loves those days on the Xianzhou Luofu that are so peaceful that he gets to spend the entire day with you. You decide to take a nap during noon, falling asleep in his arms, listening to his steady heartbeat. You feel Jing Yuan press a few soft kisses to your forehead while you're dozing off.

When you awake, he's no longer next to you. You get up and find him in the kitchen, preparing a late lunch for the two of you. You wrap your arms around his waist from behind and glance at the frying pan to see him fry some eggs.

You hear a chirping sound and fish a small finch out of your boyfriend's hair. "Don't worry you, we're not grilling your brethren", you whisper softly and put the bird on the windowsill, "fly free, my little friend." The bird lifts off. You raise an eyebrow at Jing Yuan. "Was this the last one?"

He chuckles. "Should be." This at least gives him an excuse to take a bath with you and maybe you'll volunteer to wash his hair. He loves the feeling of your fingers brushing through his hair and just relaxing and letting you pamper him. "You know, if that's what you want, you can just ask right?", you remind him, "you don't need to call your woodland friends for help." Jing Yuan just laughs and gently guides your chin closer to his face so he can kiss you softly.

He enjoys playing chess against you, though you tend to suggest to play a die-based game instead so you can win by having good luck, because Jing Yuan has several centuries of chess practice under his belt. "You know that still doesn't mean you'll win", he watches you unpack the Ludo game with an amused expression. "I have good luck, I got you after all", you say confidently. "Well I've heard an old saying from a distant planet that when you luck out in love it means you have bad luck when it comes to games", he argues and crosses his arms with a smile on his face. You roll your eyes and he responds by kissing your lips.

Sometimes he watches you play chess against Yanqing. "Does it hurt to lose to an 8 year old?", he teases you. "Silence, Jing Yuan, you taught him this stuff." Your lover lets out a laugh. "And yet he still has so much to learn before he can beat me."

✧ giving: words of affirmation

When Luocha loves you, he doesn't hesitate to tell you. After all, his companion in the coffin consistently reminds him that life is short and he better have no regrets, should misfortune strike him tomorrow. Luocha adores you and in his mind, there's nothing stopping him from letting you know.

He's also a bit of a smooth-talker to you and you only. He never gets overbearing with his flirting, but you can expect a few cheesy compliments followed by a kiss to your hand. He'll pick you up for your date, takes your hand in his and leads it to his lips. "You're as beautiful today as the first time I saw you", he smiles and whispers against your skin.

Getting together with Luocha could take ages if you insist in knowing why he's being so suspicious first; but once you do he's ironically an open book for you. He has shared his greatest secret with you and you've given your hearts to one another, so why should he hold back now from telling you what's on his mind?

Sometimes his words are on the nose, such as cupping your cheeks and telling you that he loves you with all his heart or that he wants you to traverse the stars with him from now on. Sometimes the love he has for you is put into telling you how he remembers certain areas around the Xianzhou Luofu as "that place where you surprised me with a bouquet of flowers when we met up for tea" or "that shop where you almost made the coffin fall over". You learn with time that there are a lot of things he associates with you and your memories together.

✧ receiving: physical touch

Luocha loves your affections. He's the least grumpy man ever in the morning. You could wake him up at 3am for kisses and he'd be down for it. He loves when he wakes up and the first thing he feels is your lips on his cheeks or your fingers running through his long blond hair or your fingertips drawing circles on his bare shoulders.

He pulls you into his chest and you can hear his heartbeat while he holds you close. He lifts your chin up and his lips meet yours before he even opens his eyes. He kisses you softly, his tongue circling around yours as he tries to pull you even closer. "Good morning, my love", his voice sounds raspy before he presses a kiss to your cheek.

Luocha loves to take a walk through the city and hold your hand in his while doing so. He doesn't say it but he definitely melts if you stop your walk for a minute just to give him a hug or kiss him gently.

One time you get caught in the rain and Luocha finds shelter for the two of you under a secluded pavillion. You are cold so he wraps his jacket around you and holds you in his arms until the skies clear. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. "Are you still cold, my dear?", his voice sounds so soft and he gently squeezes your shoulder. You shake your head. He lets out a chuckle. "That's good, then", he replies before resting his head on top of yours and closing his eyes for a while.

He enjoys resting his head in your lap while you run your fingers through his hair. You might be busy with something else, not noticing how he smiles up at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen (you are). He eventually closes his eyes and rests his cheek against your stomach.

✧ giving: words of affirmation

March 7th talks quite a lot, especially if you were to ask Dan Heng about it. So if she's in love with you; her feelings are bound to slip out with her words. It wasn't hard for you to become aware of her crush on you because she just accidentally blurted it out one day. She was so happy when you told her you felt the same; even if this conversation was the furthest thing from planned.

March loves to explore the civilizations you travel to on the Astral Express and buying lots of souvenirs and clothes from there. So sometimes she'll drag you from shop to shop and often finds things she thinks would look good on you. No matter if you're wearing a fancy suit / dress or a 5 credit neon green "I survived the Belabogeyman attack" shirt from a shady souvenir shop, she hypes you up like you're on the front cover of a popular magazin.

"Aw look, you're so cute", she squeals and hugs you from the side, trying and failing to lift you up. There's at least 5 people in the shop staring at you and the shopkeeper glares at March, silently reminding her to keep her voice at an acceptable volume for a public building. "Oops... sorry", she cringes slightly and then turns to you again with a bright smile, "you should totally get this!"

Everytime you enter her room after a trip you find a new photo you took together on her wall. "Look at your smile on this one", she holds one of them up, "it makes me happy whenever I look at it."

Dan Heng told her to stop talking about you all the time so now she talks with you about you.

Definitely tells you she loves you plenty of times.

✧ receiving: gifts

March loves gifts. She's the kind of person who can't wait to open her birthday presents so you guys have to hide them from her every year; preferably somewhere where she can't reach or won't find them.

So when she receives gifts from you for no special occasion, she's gushing so much.

She loves flowers and chocolates. She definitely has a sweet tooth but will still share the chocolates with you. She is very interested in the meaning of the flowers you gift to her so if you can tell her about that, she'll be all the more happy. She loves romantic gestures like this. She has mostly read about them in romance novels and she's more than thrilled to finally receive them herself.

March also adores jewelry, whether you bought something for her or crafted it yourself. She'll wear it everyday and she's very proud whenever someone asks about it.

She posts about the gifts she receives in her status online as well. She'll be like "y/n got me this! 💓💓💓"

She dm's the pictures to Dan Heng as well and he leaves her on read.

When you gift her something, she gives you a hug and a kiss on the cheek before opening it. Once she opened it, she smiles at you brightly and kisses you on the lips. "Thank you so much for this!", she takes your hand into hers and squeezes it.

Receiving gifts from you makes her so happy. But being loved by you makes you feel like every day is her birthday either way. And for you, every day was March 7th.

✧ giving: quality time

Loving an Aeon wasn't the easiest endeavor. Especially not Nanook. But somehow you had touched the destructive god's heart and for the first time since they became what they were today, there was a life they wanted to treasure and protect.

They don't understand much about the human world as it was today, having mostly spent their time on a different plane of existence. It was only when they connected with you and took an interest in you; that they decided to walk among them for a while, to be able to spend time with you. At first their bitterness became apparent every day they spent with you, only scoffing at the people they saw going about their daily life and the things that they had built; which all would be wiped away by destruction if Nanook were to have their way.

But you took that as a challenge. You wanted to see if you could find something they liked about life, unaware that you had become that very phenomenon.

You made it your favorite pastime to show them all sorts of things from the material world and see their reaction to them. "What do you think of this painting?", you ask them, holding up a work of art you got from a market. "I'm not too fond of the sound it makes and the cosmic essence it depicts", they respond with a deadpan expression and you just look at them in confusion, "right, I forgot you can only perceive three dimensions."

Nanook, despite not letting it show, enjoys spending time with you; even though it could be challenging sometimes considering they were an Aeon and you were not. Sometimes they would ask you about things you couldn't see and other times they struggled to discern what things they saw you could pass through and which ones you considered "a wall".

✧ receiving: physical touch

Nanook loves your touch, much as they would like you to never notice that. They're not used to any physical sensations so they're very sensitive. They're unable to form coherent sentences when you so much as press a kiss to their lips. According to them it was very difficult to convey their thoughts in your way of speech when you were "trying to overwhelm them like this"

Giving Nanook affection also proved to be a challenge in more ways than one. The first time you tried to rest your head on their chest, your cheek touched the golden essence flowing out of them and you could perceive what you could only describe as the worst sensory overload anyone has ever experienced; a colorful mix of incoherent screaming and the faint sound of explosions; the feeling of all-encompassing despair and grief.

"What was THAT?", you stared at Nanook in shock, panting. "The entirety of traces left behind by destroyed worlds and ending lives from at least the last couple millenia", they answered very casually. You sighed and held your head, now suffering from a migraine. "At least it doesn't disintegrate me", you took a deep breath and started rummaging through your closet. "Only if I want it to", Nanook explained. "Charming", you whisper to yourself in a sarcastic way and toss them a shirt, "put this on."

Kisses are such a novelty to them. They're like "what was that?"

"Affection." "Do it again."

One time you pressed several kisses to their shoulder and Nanook just slow-blinked at you for like 5 minutes, before resting their head on your shoulder.

✧ giving: gifts

Yaoshi loves to bestow "blessings" upon you. Though, you have to teach them at first what you would consider an acceptable present.

The first one is immortality if you want it. Yaoshi would love nothing more than for you to be by their side forever.

Their next attempts at gift-giving left you feeling a little lost. They manifest before you, excitedly grabbing your cheeks and your waist and your shoulders with their hands and pulling you into a kiss. "My dearest, I made you a creature", they exclaim and reveal a Frankenstein-esque abomination the size of a volleyball. You can't quite discern what it actually is but it looks like an abstract mixture of a hamster, frog and a dragon. "Uh...thank you?", you try to be as polite as possible, unsure what to do with the creature as it spits a smaller version of itself onto your bedroom floor and then disintegrates. "It reincarnates out of itself", Yaoshi explains. "I can see that", you nod with wide eyes, patting Yaoshi's head.

One day, Yaoshi guides your spaceship to a distant location. "This is a planet I renovated for you", they join you as you land and explain their thoughts behind all the different new kinds of flowers they created specifically for you. "You're my greatest inspiration", they kiss your cheek and wrap their arms around you.

You eventually sit them down and calmly explain to them that one planet is more than enough and that you definitely do not need another creature. You teach them about your customs of giving gifts and they listen attentively. Maybe a bouquet of flowers would do next time.

✧ receiving: quality time

Yaoshi wants you to stay by their side forever. They perceive the passage of time very differently from you, yet they treasure and vividly remember every second by your side. Your bond of love is a sacred one in their eyes and they want to feel as close as possible to you.

They especially love talking to you and learning about your experiences that are so vastly different from their own. Despite being so intertwined with life itself; Yaoshi learns so much about life just from being with you. They never would have imagined you could give them so many new perspectives on the universe just by sharing your thoughts and beliefs with them.

Yaoshi always listens to you attentively and you see a sense of childlike wonder in their eyes when you speak about the way you experience the world, the things you value and the memories you treasure.

"Isn't it marvelous; how we see the world through such different lenses and are entirely different entities, yet we love each other so deeply and unconditionally", their voice sounds soft as they pull you onto their lap, holding you with their six arms and planting kisses on the back of your neck repeatedly.

Unlike Nanook, Yaoshi is very clingy. Quality Time with you always involves touching you in some way, be it kissing you repeatedly or holding you tightly within their embrace. Sometimes they sing you to sleep with a gentle voice, running their fingertips over your shoulder.

[santaasi]

santa doesn’t know you like i do

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: in the warmth of christmas, amidst love, healing, and a new beginning, jj and you find your imperfect paradise, where home is wherever you're together

warnings: fluff fluff fluff, establish relationship, talking about kids, no use of y/n, jj calls reader angel, english isn’t my first language

word count: 5.4k

a/n: it's kinda part two to die with the smile. but I think you can read it as a stand alone. requested by this ask. thank u for request, love <з.

ᯓ★ now playing…

sabrina carpenter – santa doesn't know you like I do

Santa Doesn't know you like I do I've been there through the good and bad Know how to make you laugh Kiss all your tears away, babe Ooh, only I can do that

JJ MAYBANK ALWAYS LOVED CHRISTMAS. It was, perhaps, the only holiday that truly felt magical to him. The colorful lights that danced against the dark winter nights, the shop windows adorned with glittering displays, the endless loop of silly Christmas songs filling the air — each element wove a comforting cocoon of warmth around him. Christmas had a way of making the world seem softer, more forgiving, and in those moments, JJ could almost believe in something like peace.

But it hadn’t always been this way.

In the broken Maybank household, Christmas was just another day — unmarked, unnoticed, and devoid of joy. The house sat like an unlit beacon in a sea of festivity, its cold walls and empty halls an unspoken testament to everything JJ lacked. There were no strings of lights, no wreaths on the door, not even the faintest scent of pine. It was an iceberg of indifference, floating through a season of cheer.

His father rarely even bothered to come home during Christmas. Sometimes he was locked away, serving another term; other times, he was lost in some forgotten corner of a bar, drowning his bitterness in cheap whiskey, unaware — or perhaps unconcerned — that his son was alone.

Yet, despite it all, every Christmas morning, there was always something waiting for JJ. Beneath the sad excuse for a tree — a cactus he’d once rescued from the roadside and jokingly dubbed "the Maybank pine" — he’d find a small gift and a postcard. The presents were modest: a toy car from a roadside stall or a bag of store-brand candy. The cards bore messages scribbled in rushed handwriting, sometimes just his name. But to JJ, they were everything. Those tiny, clumsy gestures felt like a fragile thread connecting him to something hopeful, something magical.

Even in the coldest, loneliest moments of his childhood, Christmas held onto him. It was his reminder that even in a life as messy and cruel as his, there could still be flickers of wonder.

But as the years passed, the childish magic of Christmas began to fade. JJ found himself watching from the sidelines as families like John B’s, Pope’s, and Kiara’s gathered around large tables, their homes alive with laughter, love, and the glow of holiday cheer. He watched them string lights and hang delicate ornaments on real Christmas trees — the kind that had once mesmerized him through storefront windows. And as much as he tried to bury it, a quiet ache settled deep in his chest.

It wasn’t just envy. It was the sharp sting of absence, a longing for something he’d never truly had. JJ had never known the comfort of a family coming together, the warmth of being part of something whole. He’d never sat at a big table on Christmas Eve, hands joined in prayer, giving thanks for love and blessings. He’d never felt the security of being surrounded by people who cared for him simply because he existed. And though he masked the pain behind his signature grin and easy bravado, it festered inside him — a quiet storm of hurt and resentment.

He wanted what they had. He wanted it desperately. But instead, his Christmases were spent alone. A pack of chips served as his feast, the flickering light of a static-filled TV his only companion. Lying on his bed, he would flip through the sparse free channels, hoping for some distraction, some escape. And always, in the back of his mind, he clung to the faintest hope that come morning, he’d find a small gift beneath the cactus — his father’s feeble, unspoken attempt at connection.

For years, this was his Christmas: quiet, lonely, and hollow.

But then, one year, everything changed.

JJ was fourteen when his father was imprisoned for the first time for an extended period, leaving him utterly alone. John B. and his father did what they could to help, but JJ bristled at the idea of being anyone’s charity case. The weight of feeling indebted was too much for him to bear. That summer, he decided to fend for himself, searching for his first job.

It wasn’t easy. JJ quickly discovered that no one wanted to hire a scrappy, imperfect Pogue with a tarnished family name. The shadow of his father’s reputation loomed large over the island, and people assumed that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. He could still recall the sting of rejection, the way doors closed in his face, and the cold, judgmental eyes that dismissed him before he even had a chance to speak. With each failure, his hope dwindled, until desperation weighed heavy on his young shoulders.

And then, like a ray of sunlight breaking through storm clouds, your father entered his life.

JJ often saw him at the docks, heading out for early-morning fishing trips. A few times, when the catch was plentiful, your father had even handed JJ a couple of fish — no questions asked, no pity in his eyes. Your family wasn’t wealthy like the Camerons, but you weren’t struggling at the bottom of the Cut either. You lived modestly, running a small fishmonger’s shop that was well-loved by locals for its unmatched quality.

That day, as JJ sat dejectedly on the pier, contemplating yet another fruitless search, your father approached him. With a kind smile and no hesitation, he offered JJ a job. Weekend mornings spent fishing, helping with traps and unloading — the kind of honest work JJ had been searching for. It felt like a lifeline, a stroke of fortune for a fourteen-year-old boy who had nearly given up.

From that moment, your father became more than an employer. He became a steady presence in JJ’s life, someone who saw the good in him when others refused to look past the Maybank name. In time, he even became a friend — a surrogate father in ways JJ hadn’t realized he desperately needed.

Your family’s kindness extended beyond the job. Your father often invited JJ to join your family dinners, but JJ rarely accepted. The idea of intruding on something so warm and whole made him uncomfortable. He already felt like he owed your father too much, and the last thing he wanted was to overstep. Still, on the rare occasions when your mother’s insistence won out, JJ would find himself sitting at your table, silently marveling at the life you lived.

And then there was you.

At every dinner, JJ’s eyes inevitably found you. You were radiant, an unapproachable beauty that reminded him of the star atop a Christmas tree — brilliant and captivating, yet forever out of reach. The two of you didn’t talk much, just polite exchanges and fleeting smiles, but it was enough. For JJ, it was more than enough.

He fell for you quietly, deeply, and without reservation. To him, you were a dream — a glimpse of something he could never quite have but couldn’t help but long for.

But one day, everything changed — and with it, JJ’s love for Christmas was born.

It was the same year, during the heart of winter. JJ wandered aimlessly through the deserted streets of Kildare, his hands buried deep in his pockets as the howling sea wind tugged at his threadbare jacket. Shop windows, darkened in honor of the holiday, glimmered faintly with leftover lights, their cheerful displays feeling like a world apart from his reality. Everyone else was inside, basking in the warmth of family and celebration. His friends were home — John B. spending the day with his father, Pope and Kiara with their own families — while JJ walked the streets, searching for something he couldn’t name, a place where he belonged.

His own house was cold and hollow, a silent reminder of all he didn’t have. John B. had invited him over, but JJ declined, unwilling to intrude on his friend’s rare moments of peace with his dad. So, he drifted through the morning, each step pulling him deeper into an abyss of loneliness.

A sudden chime shattered his thoughts — the soft jingle of a shop bell as its door swung open. JJ looked up, his breath catching as the sound of laughter echoed down the street.

It was you.

You stepped out of the grocery store with your dad, your voice lilting with a joy that made the bleak morning feel brighter. A red knit hat perched on your head, mirroring the one your father wore, and you both sported matching festive pajama sets. The sight was almost absurdly charming, but to JJ, you looked radiant — more beautiful than ever. The soft sunlight seemed to halo around you, making you seem like an angel come to life.

As if sensing his gaze, you turned toward him and waved, your smile lighting up the frosty morning. JJ’s heart stuttered, and before he could fully process it, you were already standing in front of him, your breath visible in the chill air, your cheeks flushed pink.

“Merry Christmas, Jay,” you said warmly, tilting your head slightly. A strand of hair escaped from beneath your hat, brushing your face. JJ had to fight the overwhelming urge to reach out, to tuck it back behind your ear.

“Merry Christmas, angel,” he murmured, the words slipping out before he could stop them. It was only when he saw the faint blush dust your cheeks, your gaze darting downward with a shy smile, that he realized what he’d called you.

“We... my dad and I were thinking,” you began hesitantly, your voice a little rushed, “do you want to spend Christmas with us?”

JJ blinked, caught off guard.

You bit your lip nervously, shifting your weight. “We haven’t opened presents yet, and Mom made that cherry pudding you love, and we always watch a movie after that and-”

You were rambling, your nose wrinkling slightly as you spoke, and JJ couldn’t help but smile. He didn’t want to impose, didn’t want to accept and risk feeling like a burden. But the nervous hope in your voice, the way you avoided his eyes as though bracing for rejection, made it impossible to refuse.

“Thank you. With pleasure,” he interrupted softly, his smile widening.

Your eyes snapped up to meet his, wide with surprise, and then they lit up with excitement. Before JJ could react, you grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the car with a burst of enthusiasm. “He said yes, Dad!” you called out, beaming.

That Christmas was the best of JJ’s life.

The warmth of the fireplace, the soft glow of the Christmas tree, the unexpected gifts waiting under its branches — all of it was magical. But none of it compared to the feeling of being part of something he’d always longed for. Sitting with your family, sharing laughter and stories, tasting your mom’s cherry pudding, JJ felt something he hadn’t dared to dream of: belonging.

And then there was you.

You, who had reached out when no one else had. You, who had brought him in from the cold, both outside and within. You, who had become his Christmas angel, saving him with your kindness and warmth. That day, you didn’t just give JJ a happy holiday — you gave him a family.

You became his home.

And now, JJ sat on the bed in the bedroom you shared, in the house you’d built together — not the grand mansion with big windows and a sprawling garden he had once promised you under a starlit sky, but a modest, white, slightly weathered two-story home. It had a cozy front yard with space for flowers yet to be planted and a back door that opened onto the soft sands of the beach. It wasn’t the picture-perfect dream you once painted together, but it was real. It was yours.

This house had become his sanctuary. Each day, he came home to your arms, finding solace in your laughter and warmth. Each morning, he woke beside you, basking in the light of a love that grounded him. And tonight, you would celebrate your first Christmas in the home you’d built — not just of wood and stone, but of trust and shared dreams. It wasn’t perfect. Neither were you. But it was home.

For JJ, it was more than he had ever thought he could have. The boy who once wandered lonely streets at Christmas, who stared longingly at shop windows and dreamed of belonging, had found it here — with you. The memory of those cold, empty nights and his childhood filled with longing still lingered at the edges of his mind, but they no longer haunted him. You had rewritten his story, replacing loneliness with joy and pain with purpose.

He glanced toward the living room and leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed as he watched you bustle back and forth between the kitchen and dining room. You were radiant, your hair cascading down your back in soft waves as the skirt of your red dress shimmered with each step. A familiar Santa hat perched on your head, the same one you wore on the Christmas that changed everything—the one where you gave him the gift of belonging for the first time.

The air was filled with the mouthwatering aroma of the turkey roasting in the oven, mingling with the faint, sweet scent of pine from the decorated tree in the corner. Your favorite Christmas playlist hummed in the background, and you hummed along softly as you worked, pausing to adjust the napkins on the table with a perfectionist’s touch. JJ’s lips curled into a smile. You were always like this, always striving to make things special for everyone else, pouring your heart into the smallest details.

He could see the excitement in your every movement — the way your cheeks were flushed from the warmth of the kitchen, the way your eyes sparkled with anticipation. It reminded him of the first time he saw you that Christmas morning years ago, standing on the icy street in your matching pajamas with your dad. Back then, you had invited him into your family, into your world, without hesitation. Now, here you were, creating that same magic, not just for him but for the friends you both cherished.

JJ felt his chest tighten with gratitude. He didn’t need the mansion or the grand promises anymore. He didn’t need a perfectly landscaped garden or the white picket fence. He already had everything he’d ever dreamed of — and more. You were his dream, his home, his Christmas angel.

Pushing off the doorframe, he walked toward you, his steps soft against the wooden floor. You didn’t notice him at first, too focused on the final touches of the table. But when he slid his arms around your waist from behind, you let out a small gasp, laughing as you turned to look up at him.

“Jay,” you chided playfully, though your smile gave you away.

He pressed a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering as he breathed you in — the scent of cinnamon, the faint traces of your perfume, the essence of you. “You know,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with affection, “you don’t have to do all this. It’s already perfect.”

You shook your head, a strand of hair falling into your face, which he gently tucked behind your ear. “I just want it to be special,” you said softly.

“It is,” he said firmly, his blue eyes locking onto yours. “Because of you. Everything you touch becomes special.”

Your cheeks flushed deeper, and you bit your lip, momentarily speechless. JJ smiled, leaning down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. The chaos of the kitchen faded, the playlist in the background becoming nothing more than a faint hum. In that moment, there was only the two of you, wrapped in the warmth of the home you’d built and the love that had carried you here.

As if jolted from a dream, you broke the kiss and stepped back slightly, your hands pressed firmly against JJ's chest. His heartbeat thrummed under your palms, steady and sure. You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your brows furrowed in a mix of exasperation and amusement.

“JJ,” you scolded softly, your voice tinged with urgency. “This isn’t the time. The Pogues are gonna be here soon, and we’re not even close to ready!”

JJ’s lips curved into that infuriatingly smug grin of his, the one that made your heart race despite yourself. He leaned back as if he hadn’t a care in the world, his eyes flicking upward with deliberate mischief.

“Relax, angel,” he drawled, his voice warm as honey, smooth as the waves lapping the Cut. “It’s tradition. Had to honor it.”

Your gaze followed his, and you gasped. A cluster of mistletoe hung innocently above you, tied with a red ribbon that swayed gently in the air. You turned back to him, jaw dropping, and gave his chest a light shove.

“When the hell did you do that, Maybank?” you asked, laughing despite yourself.

He shrugged, a picture of nonchalance. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is you’re under it, so-” He grinned wider, tugging you back a step. “Less talking, more kissing.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hold back your smile. “You’re impossible.”

Yet even as you said it, your lips met his again, soft and lingering. Kissing JJ was like freefalling into the ocean, exhilarating and all-consuming, like the scent of salt air in the morning or the taste of wild blackberries in summer. He was chaos wrapped in warmth, the kind of boy who made you believe in stars aligning and fates intertwining.

As his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing the corner of your lips, you felt the world tilt for a moment. It was easy to forget the chaos of the house, the mess still to be cleaned, the impending arrival of your friends. But you forced yourself to pull away just as he began to deepen the kiss.

“Uh-uh,” you teased, breathless but resolute. “Get busy, Maybank. We’ve got work to do.”

JJ groaned dramatically, his pout almost childlike as he tightened his grip on your waist. “I am busy. Busy kissing the prettiest girl in the Outer Banks,” he purred, his lips brushing against your cheek, then trailing to your neck.

“JJ,” you protested weakly, though your hand found its way into his hair, tugging lightly at the golden strands.

Before he could retort, the sharp chime of the doorbell broke the spell.

You froze, your brows knitting together. “What the-” you murmured, glancing at the clock. It was still an hour before Sarah and John B. were supposed to show up. Kiara was stuck at the diner until late, and Pope and Cleo were busy helping out at the store.

Your eyes snapped to JJ, who was now grinning like the cat who’d caught the canary.

“What did you do?” you demanded, narrowing your eyes.

His smile only widened, his blue eyes sparkling with a secret he wasn’t ready to share. “Guess you’ll just have to find out, angel.”

It wasn’t good. Not one bit.

“Go on, angel. Open the door,” JJ said, his voice low and teasing as he let you slip from his arms, giving you a gentle nudge toward the entryway.

You turned back to him, eyebrows raised in suspicion. His smirk was maddening, and his ocean-blue eyes sparkled with mischief, like he knew something you didn’t. “JJ…” you warned, taking slow, hesitant steps.

“Trust me, angel,” he said, leaning casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed. The way he looked at you — like you were the only thing that mattered in the world — made your heart skip. His eyes always held that same soft, unspoken promise, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth spreading through your chest.

Biting your lip, you reached for the doorknob, casting him one last skeptical glance before opening the door. The cool winter air rushed in, bringing with it the scent of pine and saltwater from the sea just down the road. At first, you saw nothing unusual — just the empty driveway, lined with snow that glimmered faintly in the moonlight, and the quiet stillness of the evening. But then, something shifted near your feet.

You froze. The soft sound of rustling paper followed by the creak of a box wobbled slightly on the porch. You jumped back with a startled squeal, your pulse racing. “JJ! JJ!” you called out, your voice a mix of fear and excitement. “There’s… something out here!”

Your eyes darted to the object on the porch — a large box tied with a perfect red bow. It didn’t move at first, but as you took a tentative step closer, the box wobbled again, and a muffled noise came from inside.

Behind you, JJ’s laugh rang out, low and warm, like he was thoroughly enjoying your reaction. “Relax, angel. It’s not gonna bite… much,” he teased, the grin on his face devilishly charming. You could almost hear the glint of mischief in his voice as it wrapped around you, tugging at your nerves.

You whipped around to glare at him, your arms crossing instinctively over your chest. “This is your doing, isn’t it? What is it, JJ?”

His grin widened. “Why don’t you open it and find out?” he said, shrugging like it was the simplest thing in the world. “Pretty sure Santa dropped off an early delivery for you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, still skeptical, but the curiosity was too strong to resist. Slowly, you lowered yourself to your knees, inching closer to the box. Another sound came from inside — a soft, almost pleading whine that made your heart skip a beat. You shivered, but couldn't stop your hands from reaching for the bow. Your fingers trembled slightly as you untied it, the red ribbon falling away like the final barrier between you and whatever lay inside.

“JJ, if this thing jumps out and eats my face, I swear-”

“Just open it, angel,” he said, crouching beside you now, his voice soft and coaxing, like he was trying to keep you calm, though you knew he was just enjoying the show. You could feel his breath tickling the back of your neck, his presence so close that it made your skin heat up despite the cold night air.

With trembling fingers, you tugged the bow loose. The moment it fell away, the lid popped open with a gentle creak, and out came a tiny white muzzle, followed by two shiny black eyes that sparkled like polished onyx. You gasped, covering your mouth with your hand.

“No way…” you whispered, your heart racing as the fluffy creature let out a tiny bark, its tail wagging furiously, causing the box to shake slightly.

JJ chuckled beside you, resting his chin on your shoulder, his laughter warm and full of pride. “Told you Santa came through this year.” His voice was teasing, but there was something deeper there too — a tenderness that you didn’t always hear. It was the same tenderness that had drawn you to him all those years ago, when everything in his life had been so broken, but he had found a way to build something together with you. The soft thrum of your heart matched the beat of his, and it felt like time had stopped just for you two, here in this small moment of joy.

You turned to him, your eyes wide. “You said no dogs. You said the house wasn’t ready!”

JJ shrugged, completely unbothered, his grin stretching wider, a glint of mischievous pride dancing in his gaze. “Guess I lied. Couldn’t resist, angel. I mean, look at him.” He leaned forward, his finger brushing against the puppy’s tiny, soft ears. “He’s got ‘JJ Maybank’ written all over him.”

The puppy let out another excited yip, struggling to climb out of the box. Gently, you lifted him, his soft fur warm in your hands. His tiny paws pressed against your chest as he wiggled excitedly, licking your face with reckless abandon, causing you to giggle uncontrollably.

You laughed, the sound light and free, the way it hadn’t been in years, your heart so full it could’ve burst. “Oh my God, JJ. He’s perfect.”

JJ watched you with a lazy smile, leaning closer to press a kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering there just a moment longer than usual. “I think he’s already got a favorite human,” he teased, brushing your hair behind your ear with a tenderness that made you feel as if the entire world had stopped just for you two.

You cradled the little ball of fluff in your arms, his tiny paws pressing against your chest as he snuggled closer, his warmth filling the empty spaces of your heart. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, but you didn’t care. For the first time in a long while, you felt whole — like all the pieces of your life had finally clicked into place. You looked back at JJ, your voice soft and filled with gratitude.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your heart swelling as his smile deepened.

“Anything for you, angel,” he murmured, his hand brushing over yours as he leaned in to kiss you again. It wasn’t a kiss full of urgency or passion this time, but one that was slower, deeper — full of a love that had built up over years of quiet moments, of shared dreams, of both the good and bad times that had shaped you. A kiss that spoke of promises made and promises kept.

His arms were wrapped around your waist, his fingers tracing slow, soothing patterns along the back of your neck as the soft, playful puppy nestled in your lap. The warm weight of the small creature was a perfect contrast to the warmth of JJ’s body pressed against yours. He kissed the delicate curve of your neck, his lips lingering as if he could never get enough of you. He moved to your cheek, then your cheekbone, leaving a trail of tenderness that sent shivers down your spine.

You turned in his arms, your lips finding his in a kiss that spoke volumes. It wasn’t hurried, it wasn’t filled with desperation — no, this kiss was full of everything you’d wanted, everything you had built, everything you had fought for. After everything that had happened in Morocco, the terror, the near loss of him, you never thought you'd find this peace, this quiet joy. But here you were, wrapped in his embrace, feeling more alive than ever.

After that incident, after the nightmare of nearly losing him, JJ had changed. He was different. More gentle, more mindful of your every need, and more focused on building a life with you. You had always known he loved you, always felt the weight of his affection even when he didn’t say it aloud, but now — now it was deeper, tenfold. His love was a constant, a steady presence that made you feel safe in a world that had once felt like it was falling apart. And it was enough. More than enough.

His lips met yours again, soft and slow, each kiss full of meaning, of promises he’d made to himself to make you the happiest woman in the world. And as he kissed you, he whispered against your lips, his voice rough with emotion.

“I love you,” he said, each word wrapping around your heart like a warm blanket.

You smiled, your chest swelling with love as you pulled him closer. The puppy, now content in its new home, wandered around the living room, sniffing at the new surroundings with an inquisitive gleam in his eyes. You didn’t care that the front door was wide open or that you were making out on the living room floor, in full view of anyone who might pass by. There was no one else in the world but JJ and the life you were building together. You just wanted to show him, to remind him, how much you loved him. How much you appreciated him.

“What's the next step?” you teased, pulling away just enough to look into his eyes. Your hands, without thinking, brushed a lock of blond hair away from his forehead, your heart fluttering as you took in the depth of his gaze. “A house, a dog... what's the next thing in our list?” You giggled, the sound light and free, like a melody you could listen to forever.

JJ’s smile deepened, and his voice softened, filled with a warmth that had once been so foreign to him. “Oh, that’s easy. A mini you or a mini me — or a mini us,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear before he kissed you again, this time with a little more passion. You shivered at the thought of what he wanted — a family. Your family.

The idea of children, of a future together, made your heart race. It wasn’t a dream you had ever imagined for yourself. But now, with JJ, it felt right. It felt like it was meant to be.

“But first,” he continued, his voice playful as he broke the kiss, “we deal with this dog, because it seems to me he’s already gnawing on our pillow.”

You laughed, shaking your head, your heart full as you watched the puppy eagerly attack the pink pillow you had bought from the flea market, its fluffy stuffing spilling out onto the floor. The mess didn’t bother you, not at all. You were too caught up in the joy of the moment, in the warmth of JJ’s arms around your waist, in the paradise you had built.

It wasn’t perfect. The house was small, a little worn around the edges, but it was yours. Your home. A place where laughter and love filled the air, where memories were made, and where the future you dreamed of was slowly taking shape. It was paradise. Small, imperfect, but paradise all the same. And you couldn’t have asked for anything more.

But then, something shifted. You smelled it before you saw it — the faint scent of something burning, sharp and sudden. Your heart skipped a beat, and your eyes snapped open as the realization hit you.

“Damn, Jay, the turkey!” you exclaimed, your eyes widening in panic as you bolted upright, the puppy’s ears perked up in alarm as you scrambled to your feet.

JJ laughed, deep and carefree, lying back on the floor as he watched you rush toward the kitchen. He felt like the happiest man on earth, like everything in the world had finally fallen into place. But as you disappeared into the kitchen, he let his mind wander for a moment, and he couldn’t help but think back to the time before all of this.

Back to the dark days when Morocco had nearly torn you apart, when you had held him in your arms, desperate, praying he would survive. You had nightmares for weeks after, haunted by the memory of him almost slipping away from you forever. The weight of that fear had lingered, thick and suffocating, even after you returned to Kildare, when everything should have felt safe again. But it hadn’t been easy. It had taken time. It had taken effort. It had taken healing.

You both had scars from that experience. You, from the sleepless nights and the anxiety that gripped your heart whenever you thought about the what-ifs. And JJ, from the deep, quiet trauma that you knew he didn’t always talk about. But despite all of that, you had found your way back to each other. You had found peace. Together.

Now, as he lay there on the floor, listening to the sound of your frantic steps in the kitchen, he smiled softly to himself. The memories of Morocco were still there, lingering in the background, but they no longer defined him. No longer defined you together. You had rebuilt your paradise, and no amount of darkness could take that away.

JJ Maybank had always been reckless, wild, untamed. But now, he was grounded. Not because the world had suddenly become perfect, but because you were his. Because he had found his anchor in you. You were his home. And no matter what happened, he knew you would always be there, side by side.

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the peace of the present wash over him. There was no place he’d rather be. No place but here, with you. His family. His paradise.

And for Christmas, that was all he could ever ask for.

The smell of burning turkey wafted in from the kitchen, and he couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe paradise wasn’t perfect, but damn, it was perfect for him.

thankx for reading <3

it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

okay, this work my first kinda christmas special and I like it so much. also 'santa doesn't know you like I do' is such a beautiful song and maybe the meaning of the song is not connected to the whole vibe of this work but first lines is so jj and angel coded, idk.

but thank you again for reading my work and as usual you can always share your opinion in comments or my inbox :3

                                    – your santi 🪐

masterlist

[anaargent]

ANOTHER FIVE PT 2

FIVE HARGREEVESXREADER

parte 1 aqui -> https://www.tumblr.com/anaargent/758436879965274112/the-heaven-is-here?source=share

-Ookay - you say after a long pause, your hands tightly clasped with the new five, who after ending the confusion stated that everything was wrong in this timeline - so shouldn't I be in this line?

-Almost that - he says, still sitting on the couch next to you - you shouldn't be on that five's timeline - with a tone of disdain on his tongue, he points to his five, who was now in commission mode activated, keeping a safe distance from his clone - by the way, you don't look anything like me, I must say my dear.

Five glares at the other, the gears in his head turning, perhaps debating between hitting the clone or listening to him

-so where is she supposed to be, genius? - Diego asks confused, with a defensive tone. Everyone seemed to exist with all the information.

-Max - the new five says unperturbed, his personality was almost as unfriendly as the five from the first Apocalypse - She's part of my timeline, where no disappearance happened.

-So how the hell are you here and she is too "Max"?- Five approaches cautiously - how are we going to trust you?

- As much as I would love to, we don't have time to strengthen relationships here, little brother - Max says smiling as he gets up, pulling me with him - apparently you're not smarter than my family either, so I advise you to hurry up and look for Viktor and Ben, you're coming with me, dear - his tone became softer as he turned to me.

Klaus and Diego stand up together, ready to protest. -Whoa, wait a moment - you say, planting your feet on the ground - where am I going? How will I know you're telling me the truth.

Max keeps a calm look - You'll need to trust me, just like you trusted him - he points to Five. After a few minutes of discussion and a farewell too brief to calm his mind, everyone was ready to try to save the world once again. - Stay sober and take care of yourself - you sniff as you pull away from Klaus' hug, who murmurs a sad "I promise but I don't know if I'll keep my word" - and you too, brother - you jump into Diego's open arms, who was trying his best not to be shaken by the sudden separation.

.

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-So this is the plan? I'm just going to swallow that shiny thing into the void and that's it? - You mumble in confusion, already sitting in the strange subway with Max - Does it all end?

He turns around smiling, a hint of nostalgia filling his beautiful eyes (focus s/n! This has happened before) - Everything ends, the timelines will be separated, everyone in their places, and you with me.

You let out a nervous laugh and look away from the intense look he gave you to the extremely interesting subway window - It doesn't make sense - You turn back to him - How did I end up on the wrong line?

-Believe me, I've been looking for this answer for years, but you're here now- he answers in a melancholic tone, there was more behind those words, but for now you decide not to press this new five, who seemed more fractured by time than the five you know, as if he had already seen too much of this world, and maybe he had .

.

.

You were standing in front of what looked like a huge slimy ball, with a deformed face and long fingers. Scared wouldn't be an accurate word for what you were feeling right now. Closing your eyes, you put your hands on the ground, where the roots of the giant slide spread everywhere, feeling them move over your fingers. "Come on, girl," you murmured nervously. "It's all or nothing."

Then you felt an intense pain take over your body, tearing your skin to rise to the surface, opening the great void and swallowing everything in that damned mall. Everything was a blurry memory, the void sucking the Durango completely, draining all your strength. When you opened your eyes, you gathered the courage to smile tiredly. It was over, your family was saved. Exhaustion finally set in, taking what was left. You prepared to hit the ground and surrender to the void. But you felt soft hands hold your body, lifting you from the cold floor, pulling you out of unconsciousness.

-You got it my lovely little wife, now let's go home - Max smiled proudly as he wrapped the girl in front of him with his arms devotedly. watching you smile lightly as you rested your head on his shoulder.

[12raccoonsinadress]

Hi! So I'd like to request a Tenya Iida x Fem! Reader fic. Where the reader is friends with Tenya until Tenya walks in on Reader getting dressed and it leads to smut and fluff after?

Sensible Choices: Tenya x Fem!Reader (Smut)

Woo! Here's the longest one I've done in a while! Hope it was worth the wait ~💚

Art Cred: Ari Libella (arilibella.artstation.com)

Word Count: 5,280

Third POV

Tenya and you made very good friends. In a world where things were so confusing and uncertain, where nearly everyone had some society altering ability and villains could attack at any time, he made sense. To you, he was uncomplicated. You both valued things like routine, education, and wanting the world to be a safer place. So to others, the two of you being together was a very logical idea, even if only as friends and colleagues. You never really assessed how you felt about Tenya, leaving those thoughts to poke at you when you laid in bed at night, but still left ignored. He was one of your closest friends, and you wouldn't ruin that over what you deemed a silly crush. You couldn't handle the idea of him turning you down and losing him as a friend. He was too integrated into your routine.

Part of your weekly routine was studying with Tenya in your dorm on Friday evenings between dinner and curfew. Responsible as always, he made sure to have his things and be out at least 30 minutes before curfew started, just in case you needed to do anything before bed. Tonight was another one of those useful, but otherwise unnoteworthy study sessions. The two of you mostly worked on your math homework, tackling some of the more tricky lessons in the coming week's test. Between the two of you, it started to make sense.

As you closed the textbook for the evening, you stood up, stretching.

"It looks like it's getting late."

You noted. He checked his watch, closing his textbook as well.

"It seems so. I suppose I should be heading out then."

He stood now as well, gathering his things. You watched as he did, humming slightly.

"You'll have to let me know what you score on the test."

"I'm sure we'll both do well."

He said, turning to you with a smile.

"And if not, we can always go back and review what we missed."

You smiled too. He was so positive when it came to school work, it was a bit infectious. You usually didn't feel too strongly about homework or testing, but he still managed to make the entire thing seem more satisfying to you. You couldn't remember a time before him where you actually looked forward to studying.

He went over to your door, turning back once, briefly.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Y/n. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Tenya."

You felt a slight warmth in your chest as he stepped out. His smile was so sweet. It always filled you with such nice feelings. You didn't choose to dwell on that too much longer though. Instead, you turned your attention to changing into your pajamas and getting ready for bed. You went to your dresser, pulling out your pajamas, laying them neatly on the bed before beginning to undress.

Tenya was hardly halfway to his dorm when he reached for his phone and realized he didn't have it. He didn't think much of it, other than that he must've left it sitting on your desk. He turned heel and began back to your dorm.

Tenya was mostly sure his feelings for you were platonic, no different from the ways he thought about Ochako or Izuku. Then again, he never caught himself wondering how soft Ochako's lips were, or feel a swell of pride in his chest when making Izuku laugh. These things seemed specific to you. He tried to ignore it for the most part. After all, he was your friend, and you were his. His prettiest, most intelligent, and sweetest friend. Nothing more. At least, that's what he told himself.

It didn't register that more than a moment had passed between him closing the door and opening it again, which is probably why it didn't even cross his mind to knock before entering your room.

"Y/n, it seems I left my..."

His voice died in his throat as he saw you. How could it not have? You were standing there, topless, in nothing more than your panties, sleep shirt in hands. His eyes grew wide and his face turned red, mirroring the expression on your own face. The door quickly slammed shut, but it was too late. He'd seen you, nearly naked, and that brief moment was all it took for the image to be burned into his mind.

You quickly got dressed, nearly tripping over yourself as you did. You couldn't believe it. He saw you practically naked. It made your entire body flush red with embarrassment. You wanted to simply die in that moment, just so you'd never have to face him again. You wondered what in the world he could be thinking now. And the slightly dirtier thought, creeping into your mind from the pits of your stomach, you wondered what he thought about what he saw.

He stood on the other side of your door for a long moment, holding it shut as if it would somehow hold his own mind at bay. His first thought was noting how beautiful your body was, immediately followed by a heavy feeling of shame in even indulging the thought. It was completely inappropriate and he shouldn't entertain such devious things. He left to his dorm, not willing to attempt a second retrieval of his phone. He didn't need it badly enough to face you right now. He closed himself in his dorm and sat on the edge of his bed for a long moment, silently. The first thing he'd have to do when he saw you again would be to beg for forgiveness for barging in. And if you were so upset you didn't want to talk to him, it was completely warranted and he'd take any repercussions without argument. He should have knocked. Without question.

Though against his own will, he laid awake that night thinking about you.

Aside from getting his phone back, you and Tenya avoided each other for the following days. Neither of you really knew how to address what had happened, but at the same time it was too awkward to talk without addressing it. The week felt like a year. Occasionally, you'd glance over at him in class, and almost every time you'd see him look away from you. You quickly looked back to the front of the room or at your work, trying not to think too much about why he could be staring. Maybe he was trying to think about how to talk to you again. Maybe he wanted to apologize, but wasn't sure how. ... Maybe he was undressing you with his eyes.

It was getting harder to ignore your crush on Tenya. It was like the more you avoided one another, the more you longed for him. You wanted to imagine he liked what he saw. So much that he couldn't bare to face you. It sounded silly in your mind, and yet the thoughts ebbed into your day dreams more and more as the week went on. If only you knew how right you were.

He'd essentially fashioned his own personal hell by seeing you naked. He couldn't find the right way to apologize to you, so he had to avoid talking to you until he did. He didn't want to lie to you either. Your body was beautiful, but he couldn't say that. He wished he could have seen you under more consensual circumstances, but he definitely couldn't say that. Even with all the attempts to come up with a good apology, he couldn't stop imagining it. Imagining you standing there in those cute little panties and nothing else. It made evenings... difficult to say the least. He wouldn't touch himself though. No matter how much he ached for some kind of relief. As your friend, as someone who respects you so much, he couldn't touch himself while imagining your body. Not without permission. Which he was most certain he didn't have.

Soon enough, but also what felt like twelve years later, it was Friday evening. You paced. Now is when you and Tenya would be studying together. It was almost impossible for you to focus on studying on your own when all you could think about was how incomplete it felt. This wasn't the routine. It was all wrong. You couldn't study in these conditions. You were just about to text him when you heard a knock on your door. You went and opened it.

There before you was a very nervous Tenya, his backpack held by his side. He wouldn't look at you.

"If you aren't busy, I think we need to talk. I also brought my school work, in case you'd rather study instead."

He said, almost uncomfortable. You let him in and he looked at you now, expectant. As much as you wish things could be normal and the two of you could just go over the test from that week, you knew it was time to talk about what happened.

"We should probably talk.."

He walked in, saw you, and left. It didn't feel like you could say much about it personally to start the conversation. Thankfully, you didn't have to. He dropped his bag on the floor before bowing about as deeply as he could without dropping to his knees.

"I'm so incredibly sorry, Y/n! I didn't even think to knock at the time, but that is absolutely no excuse for barging in on you! If you feel it necessary to report me for my inappropriate behavior, I'll accept whatever punishment I am given with no argument!"

You looked at him wide eyed for a moment, surprised by the sudden outburst. You expected an apology, but it hadn't even crossed your mind to report him.

"Tenya, I'm not going to report you. It was an accident."

He looked up now, standing upright again. He looked almost panicked or confused.

"What? Surely you don't think such unbecoming behavior is appropriate."

"I mean, it wasn't polite to not knock and, um, it was sort of embarrassing for me, but it wasn't really inappropriate."

This didn't seem to make him relax. If anything it seemed like he got more tense in response.

"You don't understand. I saw you naked-"

You blushed, not getting why he was being so insistant.

"You don't need to remind me-"

"I shouldn't have seen you like that. It was private. I should be punished for the way it's made me think about you."

The words seemed to rush out faster than he could process them, but once they were out, he froze. He hadn't meant to say that much, but you were being so calm, so sweet. Such a good friend. Too good for they way he'd imagined holding your bare body against his.

"What do you mean by that, Tenya?"

He swallowed hard, looking at the floor, ashamed. He was a horrible friend. You deserved to know that. He was a pervert, and you should be able to report him as such.

"I... I haven't been able to purge the image of you from my mind. It's all I've been able to think about. I wish I had found a way of telling you how beautiful you were before this."

His fists clenched, head still hung in shame. You blushed. He was admitting to having fulfilled your smutty little desires. He had been thinking about your body. He wanted it. He continued, his voice more tense.

"Anything I say now will be tainted by the countless filthy thoughts I've had of you. Between my perverted day dreams, I've only just realized how much I care for you, not only as my friend, but as the person I want to wake to every morning and fall asleep beside every night. Not just because of how beautiful you are, but because this week has been torture without you by my side."

You stepped closer to him, only to see he had tears in his eyes. It made your heart ache. You reached up and held his face.

"I don't deserve your sweetness. Not after proving I'm such a terrible friend. If you can't trust me now, why would you ever even begin trust me as a lover?"

Lover. He was so tense, even compared to how tense he normally was. You couldn't imagine what this week had done to him with all this guilt. He was practically falling apart, and for what? Accidentally seeing you naked? So you did what any logical person would do in your situation. You kissed him. It was soft, gentle. You felt the wetness of his tears in your hands. He didn't pull away from you, as you had almost expected. His arms wrapped around you in a tight embrace and he kissed you back. You held the kiss longer than you had intended. It felt like he needed this. And maybe you did too. You had missed him, and what could have made for a better reunion after such a stressful week? Eventually, when you pulled away for air, he loosened his hold of you.

"I.. Y/n, I don't understand."

"You weren't the only one having dirty thoughts this week, Tenya. I forgive you."

He blushed, more than a little surprised. You decided to elaborate.

"I was definitely embarrassed, but at the same time, I really hoped you liked what you saw."

You admitted. He seemed a little concerned.

"Was there any doubt in your mind that I wouldn't? You're gorgeous, how could I not?"

"Not really doubt. I just hoped you liked what you saw enough to think about me a little more."

You tried to explain in the least perverted way possible. He glanced away, thinking.

"As long as we're being honest. I'll admit that the memory of you gave me some, ah, uncomfortable evenings. Just to say, you have nothing to worry about."

"Uncomfortable?"

"Yes. Thinking about you, your body, in a quite... erotic way. But, of course I couldn't do something as disrespectful as relieve myself while thinking about you. I'm already ashamed to have indulged in my thoughts of you as much as I had."

On one hand, it was incredibly sweet that he suffered as much as he did out of wanting to be respectful towards you. At the same time, however, you wouldn't have complained at all if he had gotten off thinking about you. You would have taken it as a compliment. You bit the inside of your lip, thinking.

"Thinking about me all this week got you that worked up, but you still haven't touched yourself?"

You asked, clarifying almost. He blushed a dark red, but nodded in confirmation.

"I'm sure you're awfully pent up."

He looked at you. You were trying to tell him something, he was sure of it. He just wasn't sure what yet. You continued.

"I just want you to know, for future reference, you have full permission to touch yourself while thinking of me."

His eyes lit up, like you'd suddenly taken all suffering off his shoulders.

"You mean it? You're completely sure?"

"I am. But, only if I'm allowed to think of you too."

Truthfully, you tried to avoid the thought, but now that you knew he liked you so much, you wanted to indulge.

"You want to think about me while pleasuring yourself?"

He asked, voice somewhat softer. He didn't understand.

"I haven't done anything particularly scandalous around you to fuel thoughts of that nature though... Have I?"

"You didn't have to. I'll think of you regardless."

You definitely planned to at least. It felt dirty just talking about it, but so exciting. You gathered he felt the same way based on the color of his face. He was thinking.

"That hardly seems fair. Surely, there's something you could ask of me to make things more even."

That was a tempting offer. You pursed your lips, thinking. A very filthy idea came to mind.

"You could always return the favor.. and I wouldn't mind letting you look for a little longer."

You suggested. He buffered for a moment, processing the absolutely scandalous thing you just suggested. It was beyond filthy and he should say no, especially not in the dorms. You were seniors. You were supposed to lead by example. And yet...

"That seems fair. I would appreciate getting more time to admire you."

"Why don't you start then."

He nodded. It was only fair. An equal trade. So he pulled away from you now. You sat on the edge of your bed, watching him. He took a deep breath before taking off his shirt. This part wasn't too hard, you'd seen him shirtless before. The context made him feel a bit strange though. He looked at you, assessing your reaction. He blushed when he did. You were so obviously staring, then again he supposed that was the point. Still, the way your eyes seemed to trace over his body made his heart pound.

"Should I continue?"

He asked. In part he was nervous. He'd never undressed around a girl before. The other half of him was excited, more than he should be, at the prospect of you lusting for him. You nodded, leaning back a little.

"If you're comfortable continuing."

He couldn't for certain tell if he was comfortable per say, but he knew he wanted to make things even with you. Not to mention the other feelings. So he did. He unbuckled his belt and undid his pants. There was a moment of hesitation. He looked at you.

"You intend on undressing as well, right?"

It felt odd being the only one, but it probably felt worse for you when it happened last time, since you hadn't agreed to being seen that way. And maybe he was also just eager. You pursed your lips, thinking for a moment.

"You first. We'll take turns."

You wanted to enjoy the show. It'd be too distracting to try undressing while also trying to watch him. Though blushing, he decided to finish, taking his pants off and setting them aside. He looked at you now. He felt completely naked, despite still being in his boxers. It was a strangely exciting feeling. You stood up after a moment, walking over to him. You didn't touch, as much as you wanted to.

"You can sit if you'd prefer."

You said simply. In the spirit of making things fair, he did go and sit where you had been sitting, focusing more on you now than the tinge of embarrassment he felt from being undressed.

You took off your shirt, though you decided you'd keep your bra on for the time being. You felt your heart pounding at just how strange this whole situation was. You didn't question it for now, pushing your pants down and stepping out of them. You kicked them off to the side, looking at Tenya now. His eyes were fixated on you and your body. You could see the subtle heaviness to his breathing. His hands fidgeted slightly. That wasn't the only thing you noticed as you looked him over though. You had noted the bulge in his boxers before, assuming it was just the way they fit and nothing more. It was more pronounced now, bigger. It made you blush harder than you already were.

It was tense for a moment, both of you looking at each other, but not moving. He was the one to finally say something, his voice almost sounded ragged.

"Y/n, would it be too much to ask if I could touch you?"

You were a little surprised by the requests, but even so you stepped forward, standing in front of him. He looked up at you from where he was sat on your bed. Gently, and without a word, you reached for his hands and brought them to your waist. His touches were soft, just trailing along your sides, feeling how your skin felt against his hands. They found their way to your hips, resting there. You didn't know what all you had expected, but it was more than that. You had expected him to reach up to your chest, maybe back around to your ass, or just something pushing things a little further. You weren't completely underwhelmed however. After a moment, he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your abdomen.

"I wish I could find the right way to tell you how beautiful you are. Just saying it doesn't feel like enough."

He said softly, not looking up at you. You ran your fingers through his hair, an action that seemed to be enough to bring his attention up to your face. He was being too respectful, holding back when the deepest parts of your desires wanted him to snap, to take you, to ravage you. You knew he wouldn't. He was your kind, respectful Tenya. So you leaned down and kissed him, delighting in how the action made him squeeze your hips tighter in response as he kissed you back. You pushed into him more, and he pulled you in happily, helping you fit in his lap with his arms around your waist. You ran the tip of your tongue against his lips and he took the hint to deepen the kiss, taking control of it and keeping it gentle.

When you finally had to break the kiss to breathe, he looked at you in awe. You spoke before he did.

"If it's not too much, I'd much rather indulge in you now than have to wait until later."

"Are you suggesting we have sex?"

He asked, almost baffled. You nodded, though a little embarrassed about how he reacted.

"It doesn't have to be all the way, if you don't want it to be."

"What about you? And what about protection?"

He knew he didn't keep condoms around. Truth be told, he didn't foresee himself needing them any time soon.

"I've been on birth control since first year."

"Why?"

"Um. Period problems."

He wasn't as put off by the response as you expected, just thinking now. Something seemed to change after a moment, like a new sense of confidence had hit him.

"Alright then. Y/n, I would be honored for you to be the first person I have sex with."

Your heart skipped hearing that, despite the slight silliness in how serious he sounded. You smiled.

"I would be honored for you to be my first too, Tenya."

He smiled wide. You practically melted. His hands moved up your sides.

"If we're continuing, may I remove this as well?"

He asked, referring to your bra. You nodded. Before you could reach back to help, he was already fumbling with the hooks. You let him for a little bit. It was cute to see him try at least. Eventually, he seemed to figure it out, sighing a bit in relief.

"It would appear I'm going to be needing more practice with these."

You laughed softly, sliding the straps off your shoulders.

"There will be time for that in the future."

He blushed at the mere implications of not just getting to be with you once, but again in the future. It would mean you were really his. That he was really yours. He didn't get to think about that too much though because now your exposed chest was right there in his face and he probably couldn't even tell you what his name was anymore. You guided his hands up to your chest, wanting to let him touch, wanting to feel his hands on all of your more sensitive spots. He immediately started to squeeze and pinch, leaning forward to kiss and lick as well. For someone so new at this, he seemed to know exactly what he wanted. And what he wanted was to feel and taste you. His tongue laved over your nipple, his hand squeezing your other breast. You gasped softly.

With nothing but your panties and his boxers to serve as a buffer, you could feel how hard he was, pressing against you. As a finger flicked one of your nipples, your hips instinctively pushed forward, grinding into him. He groaned quietly at the feeling. You huffed, head falling back slightly. You felt his hands move, one staying firm on your hip. You took that moment to catch your breath and regain some of your composure. It was short lived as you realized what he'd been doing. He lifted you with ease, laying you on your back on the bed. He'd been thinking about how he wanted you. He pulled your panties off of you, eyes trained on your face, looking for any sign he should stop. The only clue he received one way or the other was you spreading your legs for him once they were off.

You weren't sure what you expected, maybe for him to start working you open so he could properly fuck you. Which you would be completely and utterly happy with. It seemed he had other plans though as he leaned down, hiking your legs over his broad shoulders. You covered your mouth as he buried his face between your legs. His tongue seemed to follow some sort of pattern that you couldn't quite follow, occasionally brushing your clit and making you squirm. It seemed the sensitive spot didn't go unnoticed, because he focused there for a moment, and when you started to push your hips against his face and whine beneath him, he knew he must've found a good spot. His attention stayed there, toying with your clit with his tongue for as long as you could bare it. You could feel your orgasm building up, though you weren't sure he realized. You moaned out a little louder, which seemed to encourage him more. Your hand reached down into his hair, tugging slighting. You gasped, body tensing as you came on his face. He worked you through it and maybe a little longer than he needed to before pulling up, the lower half of his face wet from you.

"I could stay there forever if you'd let me."

He said, slightly out of breath. You reached for him, wanting him to come closer. You wanted him to lay beside you so you could return the favor and move. He gently took your hand, but didn't fully come to you as you wanted. Instead, he spoke in a low tone you hadn't heard him use before.

"If I may make a request, I don't want you to do the same."

You looked at him, confused. He continued.

"If you can manage it, I've spent nights now imagining how gorgeous you'd look riding me."

He hoped it wasn't asking too much of you. After seeing your breasts, he couldn't help but imagine the way they'd bounce while you bounced in his lap. It was a perverted fantasy, but one he still wanted to see fulfilled if you'd have him. You blushed fairly dark, but pulled him down. He let you this time, laying beside you. You kissed him, tasting yourself on his lips before straddling his lap. You wanted him, and he wanted you too. So why not satisfy you both?

He watched you in awe as you lined him up with you. You felt the tip press against your opening and how it slid in with more ease than you expected. No wonder he wanted to eat you out first. It got you worked up enough to take him. He groaned, grabbing a hold of your hips. You had to steady your breathing as you slowly started to take more of him. It was a stretch, though one you took like such a good girl. You stopped, almost fully down, wanting to take a second. Without a thought, he couldn't help but help you finish out, thrusting up into you. You let something between a gasp and a moan out.

"I'm sorry-"

He said quickly. He was so excited for you, so needy, it was hard to control himself. But he would. He didn't want to hurt you, especially while you were fulfilling his perverted fantasies. You had to take a moment before moving, pulling about half off before slowly sinking back down onto him. He watched you as you moved, loving the sight of your beautiful body taking his cock so well. You started to gradually increase your pace, moaning softly as you did. Before long, all you could hear were the sounds of your own moans, his quiet noises, and the slapping of you bouncing in his lap, just like he wanted.

You felt your orgasm building. You had hoped to get him off first, but it was hard for you to tell if he was getting as close as you were. Your movements started to slow, much to your own distress. He caught on, holding your hips tight and fucking up into you faster than the pace you had set before. You cried out his name, head falling back, inner walls squeezing around him as he continued to fuck you through it. It didn't take much more than that for him to pull you down, pushing into you as deeply as he could, and cum inside of you. Your name came out in a tight stutter as he did.

You both stayed like that for a long moment, taking in what had just happened, breathing in the now still room. You fell forward, laying on top of him. He wrapped his arms around you.

"Y/n."

He whispered. You looked up at him.

"I.. apologies for the way I went about all of this. And even though it would appear we've done things somewhat out of order, I was hoping you would... be my partner?"

You smiled, kissing him gently.

"I'd love to be your partner."

He smiled too.

"Perfect."

He pulled out of you now, making you both sigh at the feeling.

"Lay here and relax. Let me get things cleaned up."

He laid you down on the bed gently, getting up and going to your desk to get some tissues to clean everything up. After that, he pulled his boxers on and went over to your dresser. He pulled out a new pair of panties for you and a sleep shirt. He brought them back over to the bed. You went to get up so you could get dressed, but he stopped you.

"No, allow me. You've done enough tonight."

You blushed, but let him pull the shirt over your head and slide the panties up your legs. He placed the clothes you'd been wearing before in your hamper. He took a moment, thinking before looking back at you.

"Do you want me to go downstairs and get you water or anything else?"

He offered. You held out your arms for him.

"Come here, Tenya."

He smiled softly.

"Allow me to turn off the lights then."

He did as you asked now, coming back over to the bed. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him back into bed with you. He didn't argue, wrapping his arms around you as well, rubbing your back gently. He kissed the top of your head.

"I'm glad you forgave me."

He said softly. You couldn't help but smile.

"Of course, my love."

You felt him heat up at you calling him that.

"My love."

He repeated quietly, holding you a little tighter. You snuggled into him more, letting yourself get comfortable so you could sleep. Tonight wore you out and you were looking forward to waking up in the arms of not just your best friend, but your boyfriend and the love of your life.

[xiao-come-home]

wondering how bh would respond to hearing "I love you" from his s/o for the first time

Oh, do you ever wish to go back in time?

Your words ring in Boothill's head and he sighs dreamily, laying next to you in bed and watching you sleep tenderly. He brushes some of your hair strands behind your ear with his robotic arm, but his mind is being occupied by the reminiscing bliss.

Back when you two shared a peaceful life on his planet - the same time filled with silly picnics in grass where no one could find you, riding horses into the sunset, and oh, the way his hair framed his face so perfectly and flown along with the wind, the way his cheeks hurt from laughing when he tickled you on the blanket—

Boothill loved you for a very long time. Alas - he was too afraid to destroy everything you two shared for so long in case you didn't feel the same. Except...

You loved him just as much.

Until one day, it was just too much to hide it any longer.

The day seemed to pass just like any other that you two shared, but he knew there was something different in the air - he decided not to press the matter and wait for you to do it whenever you feel ready.

The moment he heard you confess his heart began to beat so fast, he could feel it in his throat; he stopped in his tracks, awaiting your next words with wide eyes. He swallowed thickly once you got silent - but it seemed like you're not yet finished, merely gathering the courage to finally push the right words out of your mouth.

The sun behind him was setting slowly, painting the sky golden, and Boothill, although a little shaken up from your words, still looked like a being out of this world - the sun behind giving him a bright halo, his cheeks flushed cherry red, his chest rising and falling repeatedly so fast - that was visible with a naked eye, since a few buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, his pupils dilated and focused on you entirely—

But he wasn't prepared for anything, even less for what was about to come.

"I love you."

Boothill's eyebrows rose in disbelief and he took a step closer to you, grabbing you by your wrists, "Do ya... Do ya mean it? Is this true?" His own hands were shaking, as well as his voice; but when he heard the positive affirmation, his eyes glistened with tears and he let them run down his cheeks, the previous disbelief turned into happiness - and he looked at you with the widest smile, cupping your cheeks with his calloused hands.

"I love you too; I've loved ya for so long, been waitin' for this for so long - can you be mine, my love?"

[loveandpeaceanddoughnuts]

panic attack comfort: Nanami x Reader

“Go back to sleep, it’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. Tell me what’s wrong.” Nanami’s voice is sleep-rough and groggy, but he can tell something’s going on and you know he won't let it go that easily.

“It’s just some panic. I’m handling it.” You flash him a strained smile in the darkness but he sits up, frowning.

“You’re having a panic attack?”

You nod your head, fisting the blanket in your hands. You breathe in slow and try to hold it before exhaling raggedly. There are techniques to help ease the attacks, but they never seem to work quickly enough. The room feels too small and enormous at the same time. Adrenaline prickles along your arms and legs with a nauseating heat.

Nanami reaches out to you but pauses just before his fingertips brush your skin. "Do you want to be touched?"

As soon as you nod he gathers you into his strong arms. "You're safe. I've got you. This will pass." You cling to the familiar affirmations and concentrate on the steadiness of his heartbeat against your cheek. Your stomach churns with a bone-deep nausea, and you feel Nanami's firm hand on your back.

"Are you feeling ill?"

"Sick to my stomach," you grit out. Your limbs are beginning to shake, and you feel helplessly angry. No matter how many times you experience this, it always feels like the first time. Like maybe, just this once, you'll die right there in bed.

Without disentangling from you, Nanami slides open the drawer of your nightstand and comes up with a plastic-wrapped sour candy. You hate the things, but the vicious flavor sometimes helps snap you out of it. He unwraps it and holds it up with an apologetic look. "Desperate times, desperate measures, love."

You close your eyes and open your mouth, cringing as the taste hits your tongue. The lemon short-circuits your brain for a moment, briefly distracting from the pounding of your heart and the shortness of your breath. You use the respite to curl tighter against Nanami, and he shushes you gently.

Frustrated tears burn behind your eyes. "Why is this happening to me? What if it never stops?" These are the fears you always have in the midst of it. Nanami takes them seriously no matter how many times he's heard the same questions.

"This will pass. I promise. It's awful, and it's frightening, but it will end. And I won't leave you alone."

You wrap your arms protectively around yourself and recite reassurances in a whisper. "My body is doing it's best. It thinks I'm in danger, and it's protecting me." Nanami picked up where you left off, his deep voice rumbling against your chest.

"Your body is so powerful. It's trying to keep you safe. And we're safe here, my love." As he talks, Nanami taps his hands against your shoulders, a grounding technique your therapist had taught you. He'd seen you doing it to yourself before and did his best to recreate the soothing motion, alternating gentle pressure on each side.

You still feel breathless and dizzy, but your mind is beginning to clear. The ruthless urgency of the initial panic is fading to a dull ache in your chest. "Can you keep talking to me, Kento?"

"Of course." He hums, thinking. "Have I ever told you how brave you are?"

"Sure, this is really brave," you huff.

"I'm serious. But it seems I haven't told you enough, so allow me." Nanami places his palm over your heart. "You genuinely feel like you're having a heart attack, don't you?" His voice is low. "As painful as it is for me to watch you suffer like this, I can't imagine how difficult it is to live through." He cups your face in his other hand and strokes his thumb over your cheek. "But you do live through it. Every time, you make it through and keep going. You find the strength to keep working, keep helping others, keep being kind to yourself, even with this weight hanging over your head."

It's true, though you don't feel particularly proud of it. It's just what you have to do. But Nanami looks at you so earnestly, with so much admiration, that you almost believe him. Hearing someone acknowledge how difficult it is, that your panic disorder is a genuine burden- it loosens the knots in your chest.

"Thank you," you murmur. He kisses you on the forehead and smooths your hair.

"I'll keep reminding you forever. How are you feeling now?"

"The worst of it is over." You slowly stretch your limbs, still shaky and weak as the adrenaline fades. Nanami slips out of bed and returns with a cold glass of water. He passes it to you and tucks the blanket in tighter as you drink.

"I've still got you, love. I'll be right beside you all night." He pulled you against his chest and you snuggled in gratefully. "And all day tomorrow." His words trailed off as he began falling back asleep. "And the next day, and the next, and the next..."

"I love you, Kento."

Even in his dreams, he would say it back. A tired smile crosses your lips as you feel more than hear his answer against your neck. "I love you too."

an: I have panic disorder and it's fucking awful! So this is a very self-indulgent little snippet of Nanami helping Reader through it- maybe not the most realistic depiction but one that gave me some comfort.