#butterflies flock to him

[igotsnothing]

Simon Silversweater-

Sage of Practical Magic

"People tend to think that because practical magic is used so often to facilitate everyday domestic chores, it is the simplest and most manageable branch of magic. Yes and no. People forget that practical magic is firmly rooted in nature, and nature rules everything. It is creator and destroyer, life and death. It charts the trajectory of the stars, migrating birds, and the ebbing and flowing of the tides, the sap in the trees, and the blood in our veins."

"L. and Morgyn will be the first ones to tell you that learning practical magic is foundational, intrinsic to the other schools of magic. The majority of mages acquires a liminal understanding of its inner workings--and in most cases, that is sufficient. But mastering practical magic is a life-long endeavor. A difficult one, but also a rewarding one. It is truly harmonious, even in the confines of its mysteries. Physicist Niels Bohr understood its main principle, even though he wasn't a mage. He stated, 'contraria sunt complementa': 'opposites are complementary.'

"Also, actions have consequences. Everything is interconnected and our actions impact not only our lives, but the lives of others. The smallest actions can lead to great outcomes. Let's look at my little friend here: maybe mathematician Edward Lorenz oversimplified the matter when he explained chaos theory, but I very much appreciate the metaphor: it has been said that the beat of this butterfly's tiny wings inspires the mighty hurricane." -Simeon Silversweater, Sage of Practical Magic

[amourane]

flustered and blushing

pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader

genre: fluff so much fluff that it's insane

w/c: 1.7k

summary: in which you're a flustered mess around theo nott and he absolutely adores it.

warnings: none!

a/n: *screams* i just combust every time i write for theo but this piece especially has me just screaming at the cuteness!!!

Everyone who went to Hogwarts knew who Theodore Nott was. It wasn’t hard to miss the dark chestnut hair that would fall in his eyes and the charming smirk that he always wore. Theodore Nott was gorgeous and he knew it. His popularity often led to him being the topic of most conversations and a receiver of many love confessions. Girls would flock to him and try their best to twirl their hair and flirt with the Slytherin but all they were met with was indifference. 

Theodore Nott would tune out their obnoxious laughter and shrill squeals. He would stare blankly at them, reject their advances without a care in the world. Word got around that the infamous Theodore Nott was seemingly unreachable. His unattainability only made him that much more interesting to everyone else.

You were blessed, as some would say, to sit next to Theo during Charms. Flitwick had randomly assigned the seating at the start of the year and you got stuck with Theodore Nott. He wasn’t bad at the subject by any means it just got a bit overwhelming with all the stares and whispers that were directed at your partner. You weren’t one for attention or drama, always preferring to hide in the shadows and not be seen. Sitting next to Theo didn’t exactly grant you that freedom.

Theodore Nott was handsome. So so so handsome. You couldn’t deny your attraction and as much as you tried to push it down you often found yourself staring. The slope of his nose and the angled jaw. His eyes that pulled your attention away from anything else. You would watch as he scrawled his notes onto the parchment. His quill would glide effortlessly without hesitation and you often would forget to take your own notes. You couldn’t help but feel your heart pound whenever he spoke to you or whenever he would offer you even the tiniest smile.

“Hey Y/n you free after dinner tonight?”

The boy beside you drawled with his chin in his hands. He looked at you expectedly and you blinked at him confused. 

“Sorry?”

“Were you not listening? We have an assignment together, I was asking if you were free so we could get started.” He smirked as if he knew you had been watching him all this time. You felt your cheeks heat up and you spluttered for words. Theo chuckled as he shoved his things into his bag, still waiting for your answer.

“Yeah I’m free tonight.” You mumbled, refusing to look at him. You felt your heart race and you gulped. “Wait where are we meeting up?” 

It was then that you realised looking up was a huge mistake because Theo’s face is mere inches away from yours and you felt yourself flush scarlet at the proximity. You blink like a deer caught in headlights trying to calm your own rapidly beating heart. Theo grinned. He tilted his head to the side as if he wasn’t doing anything wrong. Words died on your tongue and your eyes locked with his and you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach. 

It was all too much. Way too much.

You cleared your throat, backing away in your seat as far as you could. Theo bit back another smile as he finally leaned back into his seat again. You felt lightheaded from what had just happened and you looked over at the Slytherin only to find him already staring at you causing your eyes to bulge out of their sockets and for you to turn away quickly.

“W-Where did you say?”

“The library of course, I’d bring you to my dorm but don’t you think it’s a bit too soon for that principessa?”

Even if you couldn’t see Theo Nott you definitely could imagine his trademark smirk that would spread across his face whenever he was feeling smug with himself. His words registered in your mind finally and you let out a squeak at the implication before quickly throwing your stuff in your bag and saying a goodbye.

You darted down the hallway, desperate to get away from your seatmate and to your dorm. Theodore Nott had always been like this with you. All smiles and suggestive comments. Your heart couldn’t take his charming grin and angelic laugh. Ever since you had quietly greeted him back in September he had stuck by you and you really didn’t know why. You weren’t popular by any means and you had no pureblood connection that would be of any use so you weren’t sure why Theodore Nott had taken such an interest in you.

His words filled your head once more and you felt your whole body heat up at the memory. You flopped down onto your bed, groaning into the pillow as you tried your hardest to calm yourself down. You just knew tonight was going to be so much worse.

//

“-and I was thinking that we could also talk about non verbal spells since- are you listening to me Y/n?”

You snapped out of your thoughts only to see Theo’s brows furrowed and his lips pulled into a frown. The library was fairly quiet and the two of you had picked a secluded corner to ensure no one would disturb the two of you. Your eyes drifted to the textbook in front of the two of you and you blinked blankly towards your partner.

“Sorry I wasn’t paying attention, what were you saying about non verbal spells?” 

Theo smiled and you felt your heart flutter at the sight. His eyes seemed to twinkle more in the warm lighting and you told yourself that you needed to stop having these ridiculous thoughts. Everyone knew that Theodore Nott had no interest in dating anyone much less you.

“You seem to be daydreaming a lot today Y/n, I’m honestly hurt that you haven’t been paying attention to what I’ve been saying.” Theo pouted but you could see the mirth that spread across his face. He leaned towards you and your eyes widened. “What’s got you so distracted today hm?”

He was so close to you. Too close even. You could smell the familiar citrusy scent that he always wore. It felt warm, you didn’t know if that was possible, but he smelt like what you imagined home would be. The slightly sweet but earthy scent invaded your senses and you felt your brain melt.

Your eyes search his face. The sharp cheekbones and jawline contrasted with the smooth curve of his lips. His dark tousled hair that you couldn’t help but imagine running your fingers through his curls. His long eyelashes framed his beautiful grey eyes. The soft glow of the lamp highlights his complexion and you continue to stare, completely mesmerised.

“Nothing…I just have a lot on my mind.” You replied awkwardly, hoping that he didn’t sense that you were lying.

“Hmm…well I’m always here to talk.” Theo folded his arms as he leant onto the wooden desk in front of the both of you. He buried his head into his arms before turning to the side to look at you, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. “But I guess we’d just be talking about me, wouldn’t we?”

Immediately you burst into flames and you tried to stutter out an excuse. You knew he had noticed your staring. There were only so many times you could get away with not paying attention in class. Then again, it was still mortifying to get caught.

A group of girls decided that that was the perfect time to walk past the two of you and you froze as they saw you and Theo together. They looked at you and then the Slytherin beside you. Your jaw hung open, gaping like a fish, unable to comprehend the multitude of events that were thrown at you. The girls mirrored your expression before scurrying off whispering loudly.

“Are they dating?”

“No way I didn’t actually think he was capable of liking someone.”

“Who is she anyway? I’ve never seen her around.”

You felt your heart race and you deflated in your chair, head in your hands. This was not meant to happen. You felt a tap on your shoulder and you looked up to see Theo. His smile wasn’t on his face anymore, now replaced with a worried look.

“Are you okay?”

“What? Of course not!” You cried out softly. “Everyone’s going to think I’m your girlfriend and it’s going to spread across the whole of Hogwarts by tomorrow morning. And and…” You groaned, putting your head back into your hands, too overwhelmed by everything that was happening. 

Silence spread across the two of you.

“Would that be so bad?” Theo’s voice broke the quiet. You looked up, startled by his words. “Dating me, that is.”

“T-That’s not what I meant-” You stammered, scrambling for an apology, but Theo interrupted you.

“I don’t smile and flirt with just anyone you know. You’re special to me Y/n. I like you, a lot.” 

He was looking at you now, his eyes filled with a warmth you had mistaken for amusement. His gaze was soft and filled with affection, a small smile playing on his lips. Your cheeks heated up at his unexpected confession. Your heart pounded, and you gripped your fingers, searching for the right words to say.

“Do you like me too?”

Try as you might you couldn’t find any words to express your emotions or your feelings towards Theodore Nott. All you could muster was a nod as an answer to his question. Theo laughed as he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. He tugged you closer to him and once again you were face to face with Theodore Nott.

“I want to hear you say it principessa. Tell me how much you fancy me.” 

He was doing it on purpose. He knew exactly what to do and what to say to get you completely flustered and a blushing mess for him. And you would be a fool to say it wasn’t working.

“Theo I...” You whispered finally finding your own voice. “I really like you Theodore Nott, I really really like you.”

A bright beam graced Theo’s face and he pressed his forehead against yours, hugging your body close to his. You wrapped your arms around his waist, melting into his touch. Theo pulled back as he placed a kiss on your cheek. You blinked before you felt yourself heat up at his affectionate action. You buried your face in his chest, embarrassed at your flustered state.

“You’re so adorable.” Theo chuckled as he embraced you tightly. “I really really like you too Y/n L/n.”

[sjyuns]

🗒️ 、TEN MINUTES

bf!heeseung x idol!fem reader 400 words warnings kissing genre fluff mikaela’s note not actually back lol i’m just bored

“Just want ten minutes, baby,” Heeseung whispers, breath fanning your lips — the same ones that feel naked without the warmth of his lips on it.

Your eyes glaze over from his bambi doe eyes to his plump, slightly swollen lips; and usually you were especially careful not to smudge your lipstick but you can’t seem to hate the colour of your lips on his.

It’s at rushed times like this when you wish you could be in Heeseung’s embrace forever. When you can hear the faint sound of cheering behind the soft, careless whispers of your boyfriend.

“We barely have ten minutes Hee,” you chuckle, hands moving to brush through his freshly dyed locks, “let alone two even.”

“I have to go, Hee,” you mutter, yet your boyfriend can’t seem to let you go, arms still tightly wrapped around your waist, ring cladded fingers dancing across your smooth, exposed skin.

“Go where?” Heeseung hums, and it’s as if he forgets where the both of you really are, like there isn’t a crowd waiting for you to appear on stage, like he isn’t supposed to be in his waiting room.

“Here?” he speaks softly, lips moving to place soft, chaste kisses on the base of your neck. “Or here?” he continues, now moving to the side of your lips.

And Heeseung does everything with such gentleness as tingles shudder through your body; bones melting and nerves seared as you yearn to pull him even closer against you. His trembling fingers and hammering heart as he kisses you fervently brings flocks of butterflies to your stomach.

Just one more kiss, you tell yourself as you indulge in the sweetness of your boyfriend. And you savour how each fleeting kiss feels like it’s ten minutes long, just his lips against yours, close, brushing, sharing air and warmth, ever so achingly careful.

A hard knock on the closed doors is what brings the both of you back to reality. And as your lips part his, Heeseung already starts to miss you — your warmth, your scent, you, and he almost starts wishing that he didn’t have to share you with millions of fans around the world.

“Be back soon?” Heeseung asks, eyes hazy and mind awry like a lost puppy. His fingers gently push against your lips, removing any traces of smudged lipstick.

You hum, “just ten minutes, Hee.”

© SJYUNS

[inkskinned]

crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.

i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.

in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.

i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.

i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.

plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.

the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.

we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.

i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.

a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.

today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.

loved beyond thinking.

[writing-fanics]

lady with the butterfly necklace in the portrait [part one]

[summary: angel asks about the portrait of a woman in the hallway]

[warning: angst: mentions of death]

Lucifer at the portrait in the lobby of the hotel. Staring longingly at the woman in the portrait, her [hair length] hair and [e/c] eyes. She was absolutely gorgeous he felt a twinge of pain, as he reached out towards the portrait. How his heart ached, as he placed his hand on the portrait.

Her smile could light up any room, and make anyone smile. She was beautiful, the butterfly necklace wrapped around her neck. Her smile her portrait, portrayed her with grace and poise.

Angel looked towards Lucifer, as he stared at the portrait “You’ve been gawking at the portrait for minutes?” He said, walking up behind him causing the king of Hell to glance over at him.

“Who’s that?” asked Angel, curiously as he liked this popsicle. Lucifer smiled softly reminiscing on the good times he spent with her, “She was my wife,” said Lucifer, his smile faltering the pain in his chest unbearable.

Angel looked at the portrait, of the lady. A young Charlie sat on her lap, smiling. A butterfly hair clip in her hair. Lucifer stood beside his wife and daughter, smiling.

Angel looked at him and folded his arms across his chest, “Where is she now?” He asked, blatantly.

Lucifer eyes lowered to the ground, fixated. He looked slowly back up at the portrait, he missed her so much that it hurt. He should’ve stopped her, he should’ve protected her. He should’ve been a better husband.

Angel figured it out by the silence, and had an inkling that she was no longer with us. Yet, his blatant curiosity and slight being noisy got the better of him. Force of habit.

“She was amazing, loving, kind, i see as much as her in Charlie as much as I see myself.” He said, and Charlie looked at him sadly. She vaguely remembered that how her father, completely broke down.

“S-She..” He shuddered, looking down using his cane to support himself. He still remembered that day as if it were yesterday. The look of horror and sadness plastered on his face. When he opened the door, and a sinner demon was holding the lifeless body of their queen.

His wife

His partner

He stared at the floor for a moment, as tears threatened to brim his eyes. “There was a knock at the door,”He said, looking back up at the others.

Her wings torn from her body and stained with, gold ichor. She looked peaceful and had a faint smile, on her lips. Her body covered in scratches and cut. A slash around her neck, stared blankly and took her body into his arms.

His eyes turned into slits and the sinner demon bowed, and apologized for his loss. “S-She told me to tell you to take care of Charlie for me, and that she loves you two more than anything.” The demon said, sadly and Lucifer just stood there emotionless.

He didn’t notice Charlie rubbing her eyes, as she walked up behind him. Wondering what her father was doing at the front door, until she noticed. “Mama?” said Charlie, curiously. Lucifer world seemed to spin, how much more can Heaven take from him. His wife and unborn child was gone.

“She died protecting what few sinners she could,” He said, clearing his throat. “She was pregnant,” He shuddered, placing his hand over his mouth and dragging it downward. Angel looked at him sadly, almost regretting having asked the question entirely.

Angel seethed his teeth, feeling bad. “I didn’t mean to-” said Angel, but was interrupted by Lucifer.

Lucifer shook his head, “No, it’s okay, it happened awhile ago.” He said, even though it was true it happened ninety years ago. The memory was still fresh and it felt like it happened yesterday.

There were nights he couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning. Still missing the warmth of his beloved of his partner, her laughter that used to wake him up every morning as Charlie leaped into their bed. Her absolute beautiful singing voice, and how the rare butterflies of hell would flock to her. As if she was their queen.

“S-She sounds amazing,” said Angel, as he looked at the portrait, and a smile grew across Lucifer’s lips. “Yeah, she was.” said Lucifer, as he gripped the ring around his neck being held by a chain.

A duck swam towards the edge of the pond in Heaven, there sat a woman humming to herself. A scar around her neck as she began to feed the ducks. She giggled, as one flapped its wings at the sight of the bread. She lifted her head revealing her [e/c] eyes.

[junkdrawerfics]

Simple Moment

I love Jasper Hale more than most things in my life.

Summary: Just a cute, fluffy moment with Jasper and his human, the reader. Mostly Bella and Alice talking about the two of you.

Word Count: 702

Warnings: None! Just fluff!

“So that’s Jasper’s girlfriend?” Bella asks Alice as they watch a familiar looking girl stride up to said vampire. She waggles her hand in front of the blond’s face, snapping him out of whatever thoughts he was stuck in. A small smile slips onto Bella’s lips as she watches him grin and murmur some greeting.

“Yep, that’s (Y/n),” Alice replies, smiling along fondly, “We met her just a year ago. She’s Jasper’s singer, like you’re Edward’s.”

Bella’s brows shoot up at this, “She’s human?” She knew that Jasper didn’t have complete control of his instincts yet, so the fact that he could be around someone whose blood is so tempting to him seems implausible. Yet there you are, pressing into his side with an adoring smile.

“Crazy huh?” Alice giggles at the gobsmacked look on her friend’s face, “Trust me, it wasn’t pretty at first. Jasper had to stay home for weeks because he couldn’t control himself at school.”

A question hangs on the tip of her tongue, but Bella keeps it to herself. It’s none of her business how they eventually came together, she imagines it might have been something similar to her and Edward’s story. Her curious eyes dart over to Jasper and the girl again. They’re settled down on the roots of a nearby tree, talking and smiling at each other. The softness of the moment strikes her. Had she ever seen the vampire look so carefree? Especially around a human?

“They’re cute, aren’t they?” The ravenette murmurs with a far away look, “She’ll be like us one day too, I’ve seen it, and they look so happy. She’s the one that helps him learn control. He’s even the one who changes her, I think. That part was still a little unclear.”

Bella looks at her with a smile, “It’s so cool that you’ve seen all of that.”

Alice shrugs but her smile betrays the pride she feels for her gift, “It has come to me over the months, not all together, you know. I’m just so happy he has someone now.”

Both look over at the couple again, fondness and genuine joy rolling off of them.

Jasper smiles slightly, eyes darting over to the pair.

“What is it?” You ask, glancing around the blonde to see his sister and the new girl staring at the two of you. A dark blush is quick to cover your face, which you hide in his shoulder.

Jasper chuckles lightly, pressing an adoring kiss to the crown of your head, “No worries, darlin’, they’re happy you’re here.”

You peak up at him with a small, teasing grin, “Really? And how do you feel, huh?”

The blonde raises an eyebrow at you, one of his oh so charming smirks pulling at the corner of his lips, “Why, it’s a pleasure to have you by my side, ma’am.”

Your teasing smile melts into a sigh and you bury your face back into his shoulder. Just his voice alone sets free a flock of butterflies in your chest. You’re probably as red as a tomato again.

“Don’t call me ma’am, makes me feel old,” you grumble to try and hide just how flustered his words made you feel.

“My apologies,” you can hear the grin in his voice, “...ma’am.”

You punch him in the side, knowing all too well that it won’t actually hurt him, but at least the intention is there. Jasper just chuckles again and pulls away to look at your bright face.

“I’m just teasin’ darlin’,” he hums, “You get riled up so easy.”

“You’re so mean.” You pout, scrunching your nose up at him.

The vampire only grins and leans close to press his cold lips against your forehead. Eyes fluttering closed, you take a moment to just savor the feeling. You never want it to go away. You never want him to go away.

“I love you, Jasper,” you mumble as you tuck back into his side.

He pulls you close, enveloped in your scent but so stricken with the genuine emotions rolling off you that it doesn’t even seem to bother him.

“I love you too, darlin’.” The words are soft, spoken so only you will hear him.

[alloftheimaginesblog]

intoxicating {benedict bridgerton}

plot: you're an old family friend of the bridgertons', benedict hasn't seen you in years and when he does, boy does he fall fast.

character: benedict bridgerton x plus size female reader

note: i'm back bitchessss :)

You wrung your hands nervously in your lap as you waited for the carriage to stop. A gloved hand took yours, "Do not fret, my darling," your mama said, voice as sweet as honey, "they are old friends, you need not worry."

"I know, mama," you said forcing a quick smile, "I wonder if they will recognise me, it has been quite an age since we last met."

She rolled her eyes with a teasing smile, "Of course they will. You and Colin still keep in regular contact, hm?" You nodded. You and Colin had been the best of friends growing up, Violet Bridgerton had always teased maybe the two of you would grow up to fall in love but you were just friends, that is all. You and Daphne had been close too, with her just two years behind you, she was like the sister you never had. "And Daphne, of course... Perhaps Benedict will be there." She hadn't forgotten your crush on the elder Bridgerton brother.

Despite yourself, your cheeks felt hot and you quickly ducked your head trying to not show your mama your embarrassment, "Mama, hush." She laughed knowingly.

It had been years since you had last set eyes on any of the Bridgerton family and yet, Benedict still had a hold on you. You were a few years younger than him but growing up beside the Bridgertons', you couldn't help the crush that formed. And now, almost a decade since you had last seen any of them, he still had some sort of control over you.

"That was all but a childhood crush," you frowned, "I do not still like Benedict Bridgerton."

Oh but how wrong you were.

The carriage stilled and a moment later, the door swung open and you were looking out towards the Bridgerton house, the home you used to run around the halls of.

Oh dear lord.

Music and chatter filled the hall as people flocked inside. Tonight, the Bridgertons' were throwing a ball in honour of the late Lord Bridgerton as this is what would be his anniversary. You and your Mama had been invited and after just moving back to London, you jumped at the chance to reconnect with old friends.

Almost immediately, your mama was whisked away by Lady Danbury, "Go," your mama encouraged, "find your old friends. Have fun." You did not want her to go. If anything, you wanted to latch onto her the whole time. Being here, in uncertainty, filled you with dread and anxiety. You watched her go before you tentatively stepped further into the hall, looking around trying to catch a glimpse of a familiar face. Then, you saw him.

Benedict Bridgerton.

He was older, of course he was, he would be eight and twenty now with you four years behind. His dark hair was tousled to absolute perfection, his eyes glinting in the light as he laughed with some men you looked very similar - Colin and it must've been Anthony. They were all so extraordinarily handsome; same dark hair and same sharp jawline. Seeing Benedict sent a flurry of butterflies into your stomach. He was so handsome, so effortlessly charming; one smile and you were gone. All at once, you felt like you were thirteen again giggling and blushing at the mere sight of him.

It was then a squeal sounded from beside you, "(y/n)!" And you were enveloped in a warm hug. It was Daphne, you realised and eased into the hug, "Oh, (y/n), it is simply delightful to see you again!" When she pulled away, you could appreciate how she had grown up into a beautiful young woman.

"Daphne," you beamed, "you are... Look at you!" You hugged her tightly again, "It is so wonderful to be back."

After your hellos, Daphne linked arms with you and began to walk with you, "I heard from my Mama that you met your match with a certain Duke of Hastings." At the mention of her new husband, Daphne's face split into a wide grin.

"Oh, we have so much to catch up on, (y/n)!"

It had been an hour or so since you had arrived at the Bridgerton Ball and you and Daphne had stood in the corner of the room catching up on any and all life events over the course of the last decade. You may have still written to each other every month but it was different getting to explore such events in person. She was wed to the Duke of Hastings which meant she was a Duchess, "Oh, you shall have to come and visit us. It is just so grand!" She clutched your hand and smiled so wide and you could feel her happiness radiating from her being.

"How rare it is," you mused, "a love match." You had always hoped it would happen to you but it just did not. A marriage was not your first priority at the minute but you did always hope for a love match as rare as they were.

"It was not always going to be one. At first we drove each other mad but soon, it developed and now..." She looked down at her lemonade with a wide smile, "and..." Her eyes shifted ensuring no one else was watching and when she finally landed back on you, her eyes were aglow with excitement, "we have a secret." Her left hand fell to her stomach and it took everything in you to not scream with excitement for her.

"Oh, Daphne!" You beamed, hugging her tightly, "What wonderful news!"

"You must not tell anyone, it is only my mother and Simon that know. I have not yet told my siblings."

"I swear, your secret is safe with me."

It was then you felt a tap on the shoulder, "Mi'lady, I do believe that after this many years of not seeing each other, you do owe me a dance." His voice was deeper now but still familiar, still warm like honey.

"Colin!" You turned and found him opening his arms to you which you moved into happily. A little much for being in public but neither of you cared. The Bridgertons' didn't exactly like following rules anyway. He was taller with that same dark hair as his brothers and that chiselled jawline. When he pulled back it was then you could appreciate the beauty of time. He, too, was handsome and his eyes were still so kind, something that was rare these days. When he extended his hand, you gladly accepted his invitation to dance.

Daphne moved to find her elder brothers as Colin whisked you onto the dance floor. Benedict welcomed Daphne over with a wide smile and went to take a drink from his champagne when he suddenly stilled, eyes focused on something - or rather someone. "Something troubling you?" Daphne nudged him though she already had a feeling she knew what he was about to ask.

He lowered his drink, "Who is that delectable thing that Colin is dancing with and how in the world did he ever manage to get her to agree to dance with him?"

Daphne laughed slightly, "Why, brother, do you not recognise her? Perhaps you should take a closer look." Benedict squinted. You and Colin were laughing, your smile wide and happy as you threw your head back. You were exquisite and then it clicked.

"(y/n) (y/l/n)."

"Oh," Anthony nodded, "so it is. My, how she has really grown up, mm brother?" He nudged Benedict's side with a knowing smirk. Anthony knew fine well what his brother would be thinking and feeling at the mere sight of you. You were gorgeous and you were exactly Benedict's type.

Benedict swallowed. When you were growing up, with him being four years older, he just thought you were some annoying kid who would blush every time he spoke to you. He remembered that you and Colin were best friends, always together causing chaos and Benedict had participated sometimes but other than that, he kept his distance. He was four years older and when you were children, that seemed like two different worlds. However now was different. You were an adult, four and twenty to his eight and twenty, that was barely anything.

Anthony was right. You had filled out and grown into yourself. Before when you were timid and shy, you now were confident and proud. You did not care that you and Colin kept forgetting steps and kept trodding on the other's toes because you were so caught up in the moment of being reunited. Your cheeks rosy and warm, lips plump and red, eyes glittering in the candlelight... You had filled out perfectly with curves in exactly the right places, full and soft. Benedict swallowed and briefly closed his eyes before he made his decision.

"Excuse me," he said as he drained the remnants of his glass and thrust the champagne flute hastily in Anthony's direction. Anthony smirked, taking it and placing it onto a nearby waiter's tray. He and Daphne watched him weave his way through the crowd to stop beside you and Colin.

"May I cut in?" He asked.

Startled, you looked at him, face immediately heating up as you realised who was asking to dance with you. Benedict's eyes bore into your own, he never once looked to his younger brother and instead focused all of his attention on you. It made you nervous. You looked to Colin who rolled his eyes, "You know it is rather rude to interrupt a dance, brother. The dance is just about to end-"

"I did not ask you, Colin." Your eyes moved from Colin to Benedict who repeated his question though his tone was softer when he spoke to you, "May I cut in?"

The confidence he had seen in you moments previous seemed to vanish. He smirked knowing that he made you nervous. Words were lost and all you could do was nod. Colin rolled his eyes again, "She is all yours, Ben." He dropped your hands and Benedict picked them back up again, never breaking eye contact with you.

Your heart hammered hard in your chest as you and Benedict began to dance. The music ended and yet, here the two of you were still dancing on a dancefloor that was beginning to clear. Yes, the next song would start in a few minutes but this... this was improper. This was considered impolite to a lot of people; scandalous. From your left, you could see your mama standing with Lady Bridgerton, Violet, and they were... smiling? They did not seem to be angered by yours and Benedict's continuing dance, instead they looked happy? Around you, you could feel the eyes on you and you could practically hear the gossip being shared around the room. Daphne had filled you in about Lady Whistledown and you knew that you would definitely be featured in tomorrow's issue. You were certainly making a lasting impression. Benedict could see that confidence falter and his words broke you out of your thoughts, "Ignore it, ignore them all... Look at me, focus on me." You took a breath and met his eyes again and oddly enough, instead of feeling nervous or embarrassed, a calmness washed over you when you looked at him, "There," he smiled, "Better?"

You nodded, "Better."

"When did you return to London? Was it France you were?"

"Day before yesterday," you said, "Yes, we moved to France. My father had business but my family could move back since my father's work brought him back here. We were able to move back into our old home."

Benedict smiled, "The one with the cherry trees outside and apple trees in the back, yes?" You nodded, "How long has it been since you left?"

"A long time," you laughed slightly, "Around ten years."

"Are you glad to be back?" He asked. He seemed to move with such skill and ease, dancing came naturally to him whereas it took you years of practice to be able to do a good waltz.

"You know, you ask a lot of questions," you teased making Benedict smile, "Yes, I am. It is nice to be back home and lovely to be back with old friends."

Benedict nodded, "So you are not missing anyone from back in France then?"

Smirking, you asked, "Is this your way of asking if I am wed or to be wed or even as much as being courted, Benedict?"

The older Bridgerton boy laughed, "Clearly I was not as discreet as I wanted to be." The violinists began to pick up signalling the second dance was starting and the dancefloor began to fill with people again. Benedict switched dancing styles with ease and a smile.

"To answer your question, no. Friends, yes, but nothing more than mere friends."

"Really?" The corners of his mouth turned upwards, "I must say, that surprises me greatly."

Your eyebrow quirked, "And why is that, Lord Bridgerton?"

"Look at you," he lowered his head so that he was now only mere inches from you, "absolutely divine." Once again, your heart began to thud as your whole body grew heated, "Forgive me for overstepping but you are the most beautiful woman in this place, in the whole Ton. You are simply intoxicating."

You couldn't look at him, too flustered to do anything except let out a giggle which only furthered your embarrassment. It was like you were a girl again, giggling and blushing. Benedict's hand let go of yours as he placed his thumb and index finger on your chin, tilting your head upwards to look at him in the eyes, "Do not hide," he whispered. The two of you slowed and then stilled in the middle of the dance floor, "You need not hide from me."

You couldn't help it but your eyes fleeted to his lips. You had grown up wanting nothing more than to be noticed by him and now, here you were. He had finally noticed you.

Then all at once, all of a sudden it dawned on you where you were and what was happening. You cleared your throat, taking a step away from Benedict and dropping away from his touch, "Lord Bridgerton," you said, curtseying and once again hiding your face from him, "I think we have perhaps overstayed our welcome on the dance floor."

With haste, you turned and left the dance floor. Benedict didn't follow, not yet. He had moved too fast, went too far. Clearing his throat, he forced a smile to some gossiping onlookers before he went to find his brothers.

You had not stayed long at the Bridgerton Ball after that, finding your heart wouldn't stop racing and your mind wouldn't stop replaying what had happened. You hadn't wanted to leave so soon but after hearing an unpleasant comment from a rather unpleasant girl, you found your mama, made your excuses and the two of you made your way home.

"Poor girl does not even realise that Lord Bridgerton was only dancing with her out of sheer pity. How on Earth could he ever truly be with someone that looks like that? He was merely pitying her, clearly."

The comment had not stopped repeating in your mind extinguishing the burning hope that Benedict's eyes set alight the moment he looked into yours. How stupid of you to think even for a moment that he had finally noticed you after all this time? How stupid of you to hope that he could feel for you the way that you felt for him? How stupid.

And then Lady Whistledown had something to say about it as well. Daphne and Colin had told you about Lady Whistledown in their letters but you never actually expected to feature in one of the issues!

It seems as though, dear reader, a certain Bridgerton man may be off the market soon enough. An old friend returned to the Ton, (y/n) (y/l/n), and it seems that she made quite the impression on the eligible bachelor. They seemed rather taken with each other that they continued to dance despite the song ending... rather impolite and improper if you ask me, dear reader. However, the dance ended rather abruptly with (y/n) leaving Lord Bridgerton on the dance floor in the middle of a dance. All we know about (y/n) (y/l/n) so far is that she likes to break rules and cause scenes and is this the impression she wants to make? If so, then perhaps she is a good fit for Lord Bridgerton after all. Only time will tell.

You had spent the last few days hiding in the safety of your bedroom. Your mama had tried to coax you out for an early morning promenade but you had declined. Although Lady Whistledown's writing was not at all bad - for she had certainly said worse of others before - you had not wanted to create a scene or cause such a stir. You were horrified at your actions; being improper and impolite on your first night back into society and then with Benedict. You had let him fool you and the reality of that crushed you so heavily. For one small moment, you had let yourself be fooled.

Your mama burst into your room with your handmaidens rushing to keep up with her, "Get dressed, (y/n), we are going out."

"Mama, I do not feel well, I cannot-"

"I know what happened with Benedict has left you embarrassed but I assure you, my darling, Violet was not mad at all. She and I laughed about it, reminiscing about ourselves breaking the rules with our significant others. The ball was for her late husband and you and Benedict reminded her of him... I would say that means you left a good impression."

You rolled your eyes, falling back onto your pillows, "I simply cannot show my face ever again, mama. We have to go back to France."

She laughed loudly, "All because of this? Do not be so silly, child," she perched on the edge of your bed, "My darling, it will pass. Lady Whistledown is already onto new topics, the rest of the Ton will be too. You cannot hide away forever besides... we have been invited for dinner."

"Where?"

She faltered, "It is with the Bridgertons'." Before you could refuse, your mama cut over you, "Violet wanted to extend an invite to welcome us back home, that is all. It would be rude to not attend."

"But he will be there, mama!"

"Why are you so against seeing him again?" She asked curiously, "From where I stood it looked like the two of you were getting along perhaps a bit too well." You bit your lip and looked at your hands. Your mama frowned, "(y/n)?"

"I got caught up in the moment and I let myself hope that it could turn into something but then..." Your mama gestured for you to continue, "A girl made a comment and it made me realise that Lord Bridgerton would never go for a woman like me. I am simply not enough." Tears burned in your eyes and that dark feeling of shame burned strong in your stomach.

"My darling girl," your mama crooned, scooting closer to hold your hands, "I saw the way that man looked at you and that was not a man with bad intentions. After you left, he looked crestfallen and sulked all night. A man who would be wanting to make a fool of you would have gone to his friends and laughed and drank but no... Violet told me that he in fact left shortly after we did, returned to his chambers for the night. That is a man with the intentions of fooling you."

"But I am not enough for him, mama."

She held your hands so tight, eyes boring into your own, "Yes, you are. You are everything and more and if not for him then you will be for someone else. You are worthy and deserving of love and respect, my darling, so do not dare settle for less."

The two of you spent another few minutes with your mama praising you and helping you to realise that what the girl had said was pure jealousy and not true. You felt better, not fixed but better. You felt well enough to accept Lady Bridgerton's invitation of dinner despite the nerves that bubbled in your stomach.

Once again, you found yourself nervously waiting in the carriage to go to the Bridgerton home though this time was entirely different. You were not nervous to see your friends, no, you were terrified of seeing Benedict. You took a breath, stilling your hands and trying your best to calm your heartrate.

"We have arrived," your mama said as the carriage slowed then stopped. The door swung open a moment later, "Relax," she whispered into your ear as you walked to the door, "you look gorgeous." You did, in all fairness. You were wearing one of the dresses your father had made for you from France, the fabrics were rich and soft and the colour made your eyes shine. You looked divine.

Here we go.

Lady Bridgerton greeted you at the door with a wide smile and a warm hug, "Welcome," she greeted kindly, "come, let us go to the dining room."

You followed closely behind and let Lady Bridgerton lead you to the dining room, "It is just as I remember," you smiled fondly, admiring the paintings that adorned the wall, "how lovely."

Lady Bridgerton led you into the one of the living areas, "I must apologise, dinner is running a little behind schedule but it should not take too much longer. (y/n), Daphne is in the library if you would like to be with her until dinner is ready?"

Thankful that you hadn't laid eyes on Benedict yet, you nodded and wandered the halls. It was like muscle memory, you remembered exactly where you had to go and which way to turn and it wasn't long before you were shutting the door behind you seeing Daphne smile up at you.

"I am so glad to see you!" She said with a welcoming hug, "I was worried that you would not attend after..."

"After me running from your ball and disappearing from society for a few days?"

Daphne smiled sympathetically, "What happened?"

"I danced with him - Benedict - and I... God, Daphne, I felt like a child again. I was giggling and blushing and he seemed genuinely interested."

"So what on Earth happened for you to run out?"

You groaned, "He was saying all of the right things and I thought for a moment he might feel the same and I panicked... Your mama must hate me, I have been so improper. I got caught up in-"

Daphne placed a reassuring hand on your arm, "(y/n), calm down. My mama actually was rather happy to see you and Benedict dancing and breaking the rules. As was your mama. I overheard them talking and laughing saying how it reminded them of themselves when they were younger. You need not fret."

"That is what my mama said but I-"

"I said, calm," Daphne said with a laugh, "It will be fine, I assure you. Though I do have a question... why did you flee from Benedict? From what you are telling me, it seems like you still have feelings so why run if he is seemingly showing similar signs of want? Why have you been absent from society for a few days?"

You shook your head, "It is stupid but... Daphne, look at me." Daphne frowned, "I am not small nor am I petite like you and the other girls. I am larger, there is more to me than normal."

"I am not understanding."

"Benedict has always been so desirable, so handsome and charming whilst I... I have never been noticed. I have always been in the shadows. It cannot be true that Benedict would even for one second would notice me, it simply cannot be true." You looked to Daphne who was looking past you, looking at the doorframe and when you followed her gaze, your heart sank. Benedict.

"Sister, do you think you could give us the room?" Benedict asked softly.

"I shall leave you two for a few minutes but I will stand outside the door and will alert if there happens to be anyone coming." She squeezed your hand on the way past and gave a nod to her brother. Benedict only stepped forwards when the door was shut behind her.

He approached carefully and slowly as though you were a skittish kitten and he was trying to not scare you, "How could you say those things about yourself?" He sounded genuinely wounded by your words as though he actually cared.

"Why are you here, Lord Bridgerton?" Your voice was colder than you intended but he knew that it was you putting your guard up. You were afraid of being hurt so he did not mind if it meant you were colder to him. He would get you to trust him.

Benedict scoffed slightly, "This is my house too, you know, Lady (y/l/n)." Had you not been so terrified you would've laughed at his pettiness to give you your title, "I was also searching for you. I wanted to see you before dinner."

"You found me. I am well. You may go."

"You cannot dismiss me from my own home, (y/n)."

"I can try."

Benedict sucked a deep breath in through his nose, "Why are you fighting against me? Why are you so angry?" He swallowed, "Did I... Did I overstep or offend you the other night at the ball? If I did, I must extend my sincerest apologies-"

You looked at him and you wanted to cry. He meant it so sincerely. You could see in his eyes how deeply sorry he was if he had offended you and it broke your walls. You shook your head, "It was not you, Benedict." Your voice quivered pitifully, "I... I let myself get wrapped up in a fantasy and I panicked."

"What fantasy?"

It was now or never, "The fantasy where you finally saw me, finally noticed me; finally felt for me. I am sure you must have known I had the biggest crush on you when I was a child and it seems that it is still here. While we danced, I let myself belief you would maybe perhaps feel the same. I was stupid and childish and other people noticed too."

"Whatever do you mean?" His expression was unreadable but his voice was soft, "What people?"

"As I was leaving... Some girl made a comment about you dancing with me out of pity; that you would not be genuinely interested in me, you were just pitying me. Look at me, Benedict, and then look at you..."

Benedict frowned, "Do you believe that?"

"I..." Your mouth opened and then snapped shut when you saw his gaze, "I had hoped it not be true."

He took a step towards you and you found yourself rather hot and breathless like all of the air was being sucked out of the air, "(y/n), I never saw you when you were younger, I was older and thought nothing more of you than my sister's friend, I admit that to be true... But now... You are divine, you are intoxicating, (y/n). You are driving me insane! You are beautiful - your body, your face, your smile; but you are far more than that." He laughed loudly before rubbing a hand over his face, "You have consumed me. I have spent the last three days in society waiting for you, searching for you; needing to see you again. I have no been able to stop thinking about you; your laugh, your lips, the way we danced... I have pestered Colin trying to make him give me some of your letters so that I may hear your voice in my head, smell the faint smell of your perfume..." He breathed deeply and you hadn't realised but now, your chests were pressed together and you were staring up at him completely helpless. You felt like this was all a dream, surely you would wake up in few moments and this would all be a figment of your imagination... But no, here you were with Benedict Bridgerton professing his love to you.

"I..." He swallowed hard, "I do not wish to take something of yours that does not belong to me but if you want it, if you want me then I will be yours so completely and wholly." His blue eyes bore into yours, "I will be yours if you want me."

His admission had your heart racing and your cheeks were on fire, "I-I have been yours for a decade, Benedict. Always just yours."

Benedict's face split into a wide grin and then your eyes were fluttering shut as he leaned down and kissed you. Your first ever kiss shared with the boy you had loved from being a child. It was then Daphne wrapped her knuckles on the door and you and Benedict were snapped apart both slightly flushed and breathless. Daphne opened the door and let herself in, "Mama's coming, Ben."

Benedict pressed a kiss to your hand, "There is no point in waiting, I suppose," he shrugged, "What say you to marrying me? I apolgise it is not romantic in the slightest or planned out but why wait? You waited a long enough time." Daphne squealed and your jaw dropped, "You have a few seconds before my mother bursts through that door, (y/n)... What is your answer?" He teased with a grin, "Take a leap of faith with me or run away again? What is your choice?"

All you could do was nod and at that moment, the door swung open to reveal Violet Bridgerton, "Dinner is- what is wrong?"

"Mother, get the champagne!" Benedict grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulders and twisting you to face his mother, "We are to be wed!"

You winced in anticipation, expecting Violet's reaction to be angry but instead, she gasped and grinned before rushing to you both to hug you tightly. When she pulled away, her eyes were filling with tears, "Oh, my loves," she crooned as she caressed both of your cheeks, "Welcome to the family, (y/n)... Let us go celebrate, hm?"

[luvhughes43]

the boy is mine | quinn hughes

[luvhughes43 masterlist🌙]

summary: yn meets quinn hughes and is instantly captivated by him, leading to him inspiring and starring in her new single "the boy is mine"

word count: 2.8k

yourusername

📍brighter days studios

liked by _quinnhughes, jackhughes, arianagrande, and 1 207 109 others

yourusername soooooon ;)

view all comments

user01 our soon??

liked by yourusername

user02 love you !!! cannot wait to see what youre working on

user03 you guys... quinn hughes liked this...

user04 NEW MUSIC?? OHH IM UP.

user05 i'm seated. the record store employees are scared and asking me to leave because "it's not even out yet" but im simply too seated.

6 MONTHS EARLIER

how can it be? you and me

might be meant to be, can't unseen it

but i don't wanna cause no scene

im usually so unproblematic

so independent, tell me why

'cause the boy is mine, mine

it was supposed to be for album promotion. sitting in the stands at rogers arena - right behind the home bench so the camera had easy access to see your dazzling face as the game unfolded in front of you. "he's kind of cute," your best friend courtney leans in towards you, pointing out one of the players only a few feet away from you behind the glass.

HUGHES. 43.

you study his side profile for a second - not giving him any real attention. you were here strictly on business and if people started suspecting you were eyeing somebody who was rumoured to be in a relationship (you checked) you knew that your publicist would call you in distress.

"i think hes taken," you whisper back, nervously eyeing the people sitting around you.

courtney nudges you with a small chuckle, "you checked?"

you playfully nudge her back, before settling back into your seat. to tell the truth, you were on a strict "no dating" rule ever since your ex boyfriend ran his mouth to page six detailing how you "cheated" on him with someone in a relationship. it wasn't a true story of course, but everyone flocked to the headlines anyway as an excuse to call you horrid names and say i just never liked her anyway!

hughes turns around then, and you feel your breath hitch as the speakers call out your name and your flushed face is plastered across the jumbotron. "you so like him," courtney laughs and you can't help but join her.

"portia's gonna kill me,"

"oh come on! a new relationship is a publicists dream... plus, i think he likes you. he literally cannot stop staring," you look to where courtney points and you see the defensemen skating towards centre ice - his eyes flicking towards you before he grounds himself in the game.

butterflies immediately fill up your chest and you know your screwed. the boy is mine.

something about him is made for somebody like me

baby, come over, come over

and God knows i'm trying, but theres no use in denying

you don’t know how she did it, but as soon as the final buzzer rang courtney was pulling you up and out of your seat and dragging you through the various corridors of the arena. “where are we going?” you ask, letting courtney pull you along.

“i’ve got connections babes,” she replies before coming to a halt in-front of a door. she knocks twice and a nice man wearing a suit opens the door slightly.

“you all good?” he turns his head and yells into the room.

“court…” your confusion is clear but before you can ask any questions the man swings the door open and your face to face with the canucks roster. “courtney!” you hiss lowly and she squeezes your hand tightly.

“you’re welcome…” she teases as she drops your hand and steps into the room.

as if your eyes were magnets, you lock eyes with quinn. his cheeks tinge with pink, and you quickly avert your gaze.

the man from before introduces you to the room - even though it’s not really necessary. your “scandals” have been plastered all over the news since your brief hiatus from music left everyone bored and in need of gossip.

"hughes - i mean uh quinn. i'm quinn," the man from the ice stutters as he reaches a hand out towards you. you slip your hand into his and with an awkward pause you two drop your hands.

"im y/n," you reply with a small smile and courtney silently slips away to greet the other players.

the boy is mine

i can't wait to try him

let's get intertwined

the stars they aligned

the boy is mine

watch me take my time

i cant believe my mind

the boy is divine

everything happened surprisingly fast. one minute you were sharing your number with quinn - against all rational judgement - and the next the two of you were taking any gaps in your schedules to spend time together. coffee dates turned into lunches, which turned into dinners, and then there were nights wrapped in each others sheets. it was all so crazy and fast - and it turned out that quinn wasn't seeing anybody after all.

please know this aint what i planned for

probably wouldnt bet a dime or my life on

there's gotta be a reason why

my girls, they always come through in a sticky situation

say, "it's fine"

happens all the time

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes, courtney, sukiwaterhouse, and 786 712 others

yourusername 🌞

view all comments

courtney miss youu

user06 cuties !!!!

user07 quinns liking her posts again...

user08 he saw her at his game months ago and instantly folded... i respect that in a man

_quinnhughes

liked by yourusername, lhughes_06, _eliaspettersson, and 31 409 others

_quinnhughes Summa😎🌊

view all comments

trevorzegras what the dog doin

user09 now who's damn dog...

user10 TOULOUSE???

user11 ? who tf is toulouse

user12 it's yns dog!! istg she and quinn are dating

when you don't think the rumours are true but... your attention is stuck on your phone screen as your leaked song plays in the background of a tiktok. a pretty blonde girl lip syncs your song with annoyance and you watch the video a total of three times before clicking on the caption. "guess she fantasized about my bf too much and now hes hers lol... she's sick."

"do you know this girl?" you ask quinn and he lazily looks up from the pasta he's cooking. you mute the video as chills go up your spin. there is absolutely no way that quinn was seeing someone when the two of you first got together all those months ago.

"no why, is she your friend?" quinn replies easily.

you stare back at the video and all of the interactions it has. over two-hundred-thousand likes and all the comments are bashing you for something you didn't even do. you were so beyond tired of this situation and people using your name for attention. "no, i don't know her either," you respond distantly. you forward the video to your managers and hope they can rectify the situation.

"it's nothing," you dismiss your earlier question when you realize that quinn is still lingering on you. he reluctantly nods before turning his attention back to his pan. "thanks for coming here by the way - i know your schedules insane," quinn speaks up, mentioning the break in your studio time to come visit his lake house in michigan.

"thank you for inviting me," you set your phone down - completely committing to ignore the online drama and to focus on what's in front of you.

something about him was made for somebody like me

baby, come over, come over

and God knows i'm trying, but theres no use in denying

you had never spent so much time in one place. you were only supposed to be in vancouver for a few studio sessions with a producer native to the city - but ever since meeting quinn you became enamoured with the city. but it wasn't just vancouver either - you were also splitting your time between michigan as well. which, before meeting quinn was just a single stop on an 100-show tour.

but strangely despite everything, vancouver feels like home as you begin navigating your new album cycle and the words of 'wisdom' from your publicist portia who - you swore was only discouraging you from your relationship so she wouldnt have to stave off angry people on social media.

"i was thinking... gossip girl marathon and we order-in?" quinn suggests as soon as you step foot into his apartment. your mind settles as youre welcomed into your boyfriends space.

"have you ever watched gossip girl?" you ask, tossing your bag onto the couch before sliding up next to quinns spot in the kitchen. he had various online menus pulled up on his laptop, ready to order whatever you desired.

quinn hums, "i watched it with my mom when i was younger. i'm team blair,"

"team blair?" you gasp, "ohh you were made for me," you laugh lightly as you point towards one of the menus on his screen. "i'm so down to watch gossip girl,"

"do you wanna go set up the tv while i order the food?" he asks and you kiss him on the cheek before making your way into his living room.

the boy is mine

i can't wait to try him

let's get intertwined

the stars they aligned

the boy is mine

watch me take my time

i cant believe my mind

the boy is divine

"i think we should riff off 'fantasize'," you speak to your music producer - max - finally wanting to take back the energy from your leaked song. you were tired, and with quinn away on pre-season hockey duties you were bored. "something more sophisticated," you explain as you click through various samples and instrumentals. you finally land on one half-finished record and the lyrics immediately come to you.

"the boy is mine..." you hum along to the empty track as you pull out your notes app. "i can't wait to try him-" you continue, rapidly noting lyrics in your app.

by the end of your studio session the basic structure of the song was completed and you knew you had a hit on your hands.

and i know it's simply meant to be

and i, take full accountability for all these years

promise you i'm not usually

like this, shit, its like news to me

but i can't ignore my heart, boy

"the boy is mine, i can't wait to try him..." you sing quietly to yourself as you search pinterest for music video inspiration. "let's get intertwined... the stars they aligned..." quinns smirk immediately presses against your soft shoulder. he trails light kisses across your shoulder blade and up to your neck, silently begging you to continue singing your newest song.

"the boy is mineee..." his soft lips are ticklish against your skin but you can't help but lean into his grasp.

"i love when you sing," he mumbles and you tilt your head to rest against his. halle berry's cat woman buzzes in the background but neither of you are paying the movie any attention.

you hum, "oh yeah?"

he kisses your shoulder again and you fix your gaze back onto your laptop screen before lightly closing it and setting it to the side. "i still don't know what i'm going to do about the music video,"

quinn lays back in bed and allows his gaze to fixate on the tv. "what about catwoman? i'd bet you'd look good in a cat suit" he teases. you knew he wasn't being entirely serious but halle berry easily captures your attention as she dazzles on screen in her catsuit.

"the boy is mine," you hum lightly, completely enticed with quinns idea for your music video.

i can't wait to try him

lets get intertwined

the stars, they aligned

the boy is mine

watch me take my time

i can't believe my mind

the boy is divine

boy is mine

the male lead for the boy is mine video is a no-show. multiple calls to his personal phone, calls and emails to his managers and agency, everything is left unanswered.

quinn🤍🌙: i'm out front. i got your favourite drink

you sigh with relief as you quickly excuse yourself from the upset mass of production staff and your cinematographer.

"hey, what's wrong?" your boyfriend of almost a year asks with concern etched across his features. you blink slowly and all your frustrations manifests into tears.

"the shoot is going so bad," you breathe heavily, "and we're so behind schedule,"

quinn wipes away your fallen tears with his thumb. "why what's happening?"

"the male lead hasn't shown up yet and he and agency aren't answering our calls," you lean against quinn and he easily wraps a hand around your waist. "i've filmed most of my solo shots but i know the crew is getting upset and i don't know what to do. we're trying to find a replacement but-"

"i'll do it," quinn says quietly and measuredly.

"what?" you blink and pull away from him slightly. quinn passes you your drink and you allow the coolness of the cup to soothe some of your nerves.

"i'll be in the video" he repeats. "if you want- i mean i don't want to overstep or-"

you lightly tap quinns hand with your own. "i'd love if you were in the video," you say softly, nerves completely dissipating with his comfort and the solution to your problem. "thank you," you kiss his cheek.

less than an hour later quinn was fitted in his costume and was debriefed on the scenes he would be filming.

─── ➤ 📹

you left quinn to film his presidential speech sequence so that you could get ready to film the catsuit portion of the video. your dress was tight and your brown wig made you take on your pop-girl persona that you'd been sheltering ever since the infidelity allegations ruined your reputation.

"oh you look so good," quinn wanders up to you as soon as you step onto the apartment set. he eyes your latex dress before smoothing a hand down your side gently. "i was right about the outfit," he jokes easily and you lean against his side while the crew finishes marking the next scene.

"you don't look too bad yourself," you blush under the weight of his gaze. you trail one of your hands up the front of his chest before realizing where the two of you were. not like it would be a crime to ogle your boyfriend on your music video set... but still.

"how was filming your speech?" you ask, pulling away from him slowly.

"only forgot my lines once!" quinn jokes with a laugh, to which you immediately join in on.

"that's my boy!"

"okay, y/n - quinn, we're ready for you two now," your lovely director calls out across the set.

PRESENT DAY

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes, bradytkachuk, arianagrande, and 6.7M others

yourusername "the boy is mine" is out now!!🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛ starring my boy _quinnhughes, featuring brandy & monicadenise !!!!🥹🥹🫶 and directed by the amazing christhedirector

view all comments

christhedirector the best is yet to come!🎬

_quinnhughes had the best time with you!❤️

arianagrande obsessed

jackhughes can't believe you let him on set

canucks the collab we didnt know we needed!🐈‍⬛💙

user13 QUINN???? HUGHES????

user14 the most insane hard launch wtf?

user15 the boy may be yours but i need him to be MINE!

user16 waittt this is the guy from the hockey game all those months ago??? wow

user17 mv was so good i started hallucinating

user18 loveeee you!!! this song and mv is literally so good!

_quinnhughes

liked by yourusername, lhughes_06, _eliaspettersson, and 361 043 others

_quinnhughes "the boy is mine" by the amazing yourusername is out everywhere now!❤️

tagged: yourusername

view all comments

lhughes_06 can't believe this exists

_eliaspettersson 📸📸

trevorzegras damnnnn you really weren't lying

_quinnhughes ?

bboeser looking good💯

user19 WHAT

user20 me next pls

user21 so the rumours were true this whole time👀

user22 so did she cheat or not like...

user23 plss he wasnt even following that tiktok girl it was definitely a lie for views lmao.

user24 soooo their relationship is confirmed ?

user25 hughes girlies lost

user26 OHHH I WON I LOVE U BOTH SM!!

user27 this mv has me feeling things hold on...

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes, madisonbeer, jackhughes, and 5.7M others

yourusername last photo dump i promiseeee !!! this project has been an absolute dream and i'm so happy that it's finally yours after all these months! i can't wait for u guys to see what else we've been working on.. ;)

view all comments

_quinnhughes the most talented♥️

user28 TRUE LOVE?? oh this quinn stuff is serious huh...

user29 i get it

user30 loveee you the most

THE END <3

-

-

-

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

CLAY BERESFORD has to sit down when he gets too exhilarated. When life moves too fast, his heart can’t take it. Breath quickens, eyes haze. He used to power through it, and that’d only make it worse. Now he’s learned the signs, knows to catch it early. The first time you’d kissed him, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to stand. A flock of butterflies inhabited his insides, frenzying in a flurry whenever he’d remember what it felt like to touch your lips on his. At that point, he’d believed his heart condition was common knowledge. His mother, his associates, his friends, all constantly brought it up. But you, you were genuinely caught off guard, catching him tenderly ‘round the arm when he’d shown signs of fatigue. Gentle as you could be, you softened the impact to his seat when his legs gave out.

“It, uh, it’s fine. I’ll be fine,” he had rambled, fishing out his meds from his pocket. His trembling hands struggled against the top, but you were there to loosen it for him. You had sat with him until he was ready. He’d never thought hovering around him could be so romantic, especially since he’s not one to care for smothering.

Now, it’s marginally manageable. That thrill he avoids occasionally hits him at the peak of love-making. You can read him, you can see the signals clearly written on him. In the ways he tips his head back, mouth agape to take in more oxygen, how his eyes glaze over, and his grip loosens. There’s less of his attention to go around. You can hear the strain in his grunts; there’s a stutter in his hips, he’s pushing himself too hard while he pushes himself inside you.

“Clay,” you warn, “slow down. It’s happening again.” Your claws brace against his rotator cuff, directing him to back up which he ignores. His body continues to roll, his tip brushing that spongy spot inside you. Regardless if it feels good, if the sheen of sweat on your skin is a result of ardently chasing your lusts, you can’t let him do this to himself again.

“No, no,” he objects, “I can do it this time. I can do it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, crying out over how he hardens his pace instead of receding it. It weakens your muscle in fighting him off. If you can just sever the connection, he’ll remember, he’ll calm down and take a breather. “Clay!”

But you can’t fend him off.

His forehead drops to your shoulder, alerting you to open your eyes. You don’t bother noticing anything else. “Clay? Clay? Are you alright? Talk to me,” Newfound strength floods you, rolling him over to straddle him, his arm thrown haphazardly above his head. His heavy lidded gaze flutters as you pat at his face. “Baby? Speak to me, can you hear me?”

He hums. A low, gravely drawl as his hands venture to your hips. “Baby,” he drags out each of these word, “Fuck… baby, so good.” The air in his chest rapidly falls, panting. You know this isn’t right, yet he makes decisions for you, digging his fingers into the plush of your flesh as he moves you back and forth. His cock fully seated inside you while it brushes your insides.

“Wait, but you’re—“ you protest, but it’s unconvincing. There’s few things you enjoy more than sitting on every inch of his length, the new angle granting you electric shocks up your spine with each rock.

“Feeling so good, my love. Better than I ever have. Better than I ever will.” his sweet words mean the world to you, his soft smile adorning his handsome features as he peeks slyly at you through the narrow sliver of his lids. “Don’t make me stop. Please? I don’t wanna stop.” How can you refuse him?

You figure it’s less pressure on him to be underneath you; you feel more secure in riding him like this. So you move his hands up, allowing them to handle your torso while you do the work. He sits back, and looks pretty for you, while you use him up.

[sanarsi]

Kinktober Day 7

Sensory Deprivation

boyfriend!Frankie Morales x f!Reader

Gif credits @daydreamingmiller

Summary: You and Frankie like to experiment in bed and this time you took the initiative to play with him. Warnings: +18, MDNI, soft!sub!Frankie, sensory deprivation (sight, hearing, touch), teasing play, blowjob, cock worship, balls worship, overstimulation, soft!dom!Reader Wordcount: 1,8k An: With this shot we end the first week of kinktober! Woah, it was an intense few days. I hope you are positively surprised by what I presented to you (please, I need some praises *blink blink*). Another week of slutty stories is ahead of us! Since I'm on vacation, the whole week is waitin in the queue. I am still available though, so any messages, comments and reblogs are welcome! Love y’all!

Masterlist and Kinktober Masterlist

“Are you ready?”

A mysterious smirk played on your face as you straddled him. You were excited about the new game you had decided to try.

“Baby,” he sighed, “you haven’t even touched me and my cock’s so hard it hurts,” he said, raising an eyebrow with a little amusement. “Is that enough answer?”

You laughed sweetly and ran your hands over his arms, tied to the bed frame. Frankie shivered under your touch, chills running through his body.

The sight of him tied up, subject to your mercy, stirred feelings that you had never known before.

“Yeah,” you nodded, biting your lip to hide a wide smile.

You touched his cheek, stroking it gently, and he instinctively nuzzled into your hand.

Fuck, you loved it when he was submissive to you. No one had ever shown you such trust and devotion before him.

You looked at him tenderly and leaned down, connecting your lips with his in a gentle kiss. The gesture lasted only a moment and was barely noticeable like the beating of a butterfly's wings.

“Okay,” you whispered, pulling away, and reached for the blindfold. “Lemme take care of you.”

Without waiting for his answer, you slid the black material down, covering his eyes. Frankie immediately shifted uncomfortably as you cut off one of his senses.

A flock of butterflies appeared in your stomach at the sight. He was so fucking vulnerable and sweet that you barely stopped yourself from throw it all into oblivion and just making love to him right there and then until you were out of breath.

Luckily, the last bit of self-control won out and you reached for the earplugs.

“See you soon.”

You placed a quick kiss on his cheek making him gasp and without waiting any longer, you put the earplugs in his ears.

And there he was, your lovely boy Frankie, tied up, unable to see or hear what you were about to do to him.

A wave of excitement ran down your spine as you took in his naked body. His breathing was already ragged and his muscles tensed in anticipation of your move. You loved seeing him like this.

Thirsty.

Hungry for your attention and touch. Like a drug addict waiting for a fix.

When you had him like this, you knew you would kill for him. You would do anything to protect him. Your little Frankie.

“Let the fun begin,” you said under your breath and slowly slid down his body, making sure he felt you brush against every part of him.

You settled between his legs and, teasing him, ran your nails over his thighs, which tensed under your touch. He didn't even stop himself from pushing his hips towards you.

You took one last look at his beautiful body before you looked at his cock.

Hard as a rock.

Quivering from the mere whiff of your breath.

Glistening with precum.

The mere sight of his manhood made you salivate. He was beautiful, in every sense of this word.

You leaned closer and placed a wet kiss on his tip, which immediately elicited a groan from him. The sound alone made your clit throb with pleasure.

You couldn't resist feeling him in your mouth just for a moment, so with a purr, you wrapped your tongue around him, licking up his salty juices.

He groaned louder and instinctively jerked his hands, wanting to touch you. The rope dug harder into his wrists at the sudden movement, effectively stopping him.

“Shit,” he gasped under his breath, remembering the position he was in—he couldn’t do anything.

You laughed quietly and placed another kiss along his length. You could feel him pulsing under your lips, how hot and hard he was, and you were so damn proud that you were the reason why he was in such a state.

His cock twitched, hitting your cheek as your kisses traveled lower and lower, all the way to the base.

You licked and teased him a bit with your teeth, just as you knew it would stir up conflicting emotions in him and only inflame him more.

He hissed in response, which amused you and encouraged you to torment him some more. You loved playing with him and testing his limits.

You slowly pulled away and you replaced your lips to fingers. Frankie began to breathe deeper as your cold hand met his red-hot cock.

“Baby, please,” he whispered quietly, waiting for your next move but he didn’t expect to feel your wet tongue on his balls.

His cock tried to escape your grip as you sucked him in. He jerked his legs as his muscles tensed when you began to play with his balls, warming them in your mouth. The rope wrapped tighter around his ankles as you slowly and gently caressed him, making him feel like he was floating on a cloud.

A tearful groan escaped his lips as you sucked him harder and pulled him towards until he fell out of your mouth.

“Bab—,” he trailed off with a groan as he felt you on his tip again, which was starting to turn blue with arousal from the lack of enough attention. “Oh fuuuck,” he growled, tensing up and lifting his body off the mattress to be even closer to you.

You eagerly took him deeper into your mouth, letting your saliva drip down his length.

Purring like a cat, you circled his tip with your tongue while sucking in your cheeks until all you could feel was his hard, throbbing cock.

Frankie didn't even know what sounds were coming out of his mouth anymore, but you heard everything perfectly. Moans, whimpers, and pleas went straight to your pussy, which was leaking so much that juices were running down the insides of your thighs.

Giving him pleasure sometimes drove you so crazy, that all he had to do was touch you, so so gently and you’d come, hard, falling apart in pure ecstasy

You were crazy about him.

But it was a madness that didn't hurt anyone, so without remorse you sank deeper and deeper into this love for him. At the same time taking him deeper and deeper until he hit the back of your throat.

You held back your gag reflex, clenching around him, making him harden. You knew exactly what that meant, so you slid your fingers down to his balls, which you stroked and then began to knead in your hand.

You loved feeling his soft skin surrounding his heavy, arousal-filled balls. They were perfect and you could sit between his legs for hours and worship them in every way possible. Lick, suck, kiss… fucking cuddle up to them, grind against them until you come, trembling and moaning his name.

But now you were desperate to get an orgasm out of him after a hard day's work and that's what you focused on. This is exactly what you wanted.

“Oh god— fuck,” he howled, tugging at the ropes and arching in pleasure. “What are you doin’ to me?”

A loud sob escaped his throat as you took him deeper, until your nose was buried in his pubes. You felt his cock pulsate harder and harder as you held him all in your mouth, making gentle up and down movements, sinking deeper and deeper into his soft lower abdomen.

The animalistic sounds coming from him were getting louder and your arousal was growing with them. You were on the verge of madness having him under you like this but you couldn't stop yourself when you knew he was so close to climax.

“Please, please, ple—“

His pleas were cut off the moment you felt his body freeze and his cock turn to stone before you could feel the hot cum shoot down your throat.

“Oh… Fuck,” he growled loudly, panting heavily as his orgasm rippled through his body, recurring in your mouth over and over again. Stopping from gagging, you swallowed everything, just to make room for another dose.

His balls throbbed in your hand like they had no intention of stopping, but the intensity of the release was so great that Frankie fell helplessly and simply let the shivers wrack his body. He groaned, increasingly tired, until everything eased and began to disappear.

You sucked him until he gave you the last drops and only then did you pull away from him with a smack that made him shiver at the feeling.

His cock fell against his stomach, starting to soften.

You wiped your mouth with satisfaction and took in the sight of his body, which looked much better after the dose of pleasure you had given him.

You were so damn cockdrunk and didn't even want to think about what he was feeling right now. You suspected he needed a moment to calm down so that's exactly what you gave him.

You started to untie the ropes around his ankles, noticing the red marks from the force he tried to free himself with.

You did the same with his wrists.

You barely reached to remove the blindfold from his eyes when he quickly took the earplugs out and ripped off the blindfold himself. You blinked a bit distractedly and opened your mouth to say something, unfortunately you were too slow.

His hands found your cheeks and pulled you down, your lips meeting painfully halfway. You gasped in surprise at the sudden movement but immediately melted into the caress.

His tongue gently crept into your mouth but he was greedy.

You tried to kiss him with the same fervor but you couldn't match the gratitude he wanted to show you.

You fell on him with all your weight as he pulled you even closer and you purred feeling his heated body.

“That was fuckin’ amazing,” he gasped, pulling away from you and looking at you with those shiny, puppy eyes of his, filled with love.

You smiled widely in response, trying to calm your breathing. “I’m glad you liked it, baby.” You nuzzled his nose and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Because I liked it too.”

Frankie smiled even wider than you did and in one movement he spun you around, switching places. You landed under him with a squeal and started giggling as he began to press kisses to your neck and cheeks. His stubble teased your skin, making you shiver.

“Next time,” he gasped between the kisses he slowly directed towards your lips. He stole a hard and passionate kiss before pulling away so he could look at you. “We do the same thing.”

You raised an eyebrow in interest as his eyes sparkled with mischief.

“But we’ll switch roles.”

And he kissed you harder.

Tags: @mattmurdocksdumpy @milly-louise @rosi3ba3z @candlelover @gothcsz @tateypots @chloe302225 @natalieispunk @amyispxnk @mandoloriancookie @libre-sol @alex-does-art-things @xxchumanixx @ch3rryyyyyyyyyy @bbyanarchist @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @ilovejoel-andjavi @uncassettodiricordi @puddles221b @syd-djarin

[pawpiefawn]

𝓪 𝓼𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓼𝓾𝓷𝓭𝓪𝔂'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓻𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓪 𝓸𝓯 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 .𖥔 ݁ ˖

❤︎ wriothesley x gn!reader 0.7k words farmer's market day with wriothesley. reader gets a necklace, but this is gn.

market days with wriothesley were a highly anticipated day within the household – they were sunny days spent at bustling stalls, whenc shopkeepers haggled their prices at haughty customers who walked away with their smiles until they got the price they wanted, their grocery lists scratched out.

you loved the sights of it all, too – cats nipping at fishermen’s boots for sardines, and pigeons longing for their chance at some breadcrumbs from a clumsy child chasing after mama.

stalls stretched out in rows to the end of the market. they were full of the freshest vegetables, stacked full with rows of yellow corn and the brightest of carrots. even the locals beekeepers brought their stocks of the sweetest, golden honey – which were rare to find nowadays.

and of course, you took great pleasure in teaching wriothesley how to choose the best of the best; he adored simply listening to you ramble on and on about recipes you wanted to make that week; it just made market days even more exciting.

“keep up, sweetheart!” you squeal, ducking behind a grocery-seller’s stall – while raking your gaze over the assortment of sweet potatoes and broccoli for the week. you gave one a poke of good luck.

“you are cheeky today, aren’t you?” wriothesley catches your sides, panting quietly and catching his breath. you could only giggle in response and press an apologetic kiss to his cheek. apology kisses, of course, were always forgiven.

alright, market days were great and all, but what you could truly spend all your afternoons doing was walking up and down the aisles of the next lane’s craft market. hundreds of artists and creators flocking to tents to share their handcrafted goodness with the city – what was there not to like? some days there were adorable prints, other days beaded jewellery and bags and everything under the sun you could possibly think of.

perhaps a resplendent trinket from one of the jewellers would catch your eye, making you stop in your tracks.

well, maybe not yours this time – but it certainly caught wriothesley’s attention.

“love, look at this,” he holds up a necklace with all the care he could muster – oh, how beautiful. it was a simple necklace; translucent string with three white pearls and a small black bead between each one. every pearl reminded you of him ; a beautiful opalescent cream, bearing a gift from the sea and a homage to the ruler of the waters.

“that’s beautiful, wriothesley.” you hear yourself gasp softly, your hands reaching out to cradle the pearls. it was stunning, truly. you find yourself offering the crafter a small smile in gratitude.

“it is, isn’t it?” wriothesley smiles and beckons you over with a simple gesture; you find yourself standing in front of him.

“turn around,” he instructs – you follow suit. there was something so lovely about the shared proximity in public; even after all these years, your lover still never failed to tease the butterflies that nestled in your tummy.

you feel wriothesley touch the back of your neck as he brings the necklace up ; you instinctively freeze up, a soft giggle escaping your lips.

“i’m sorry, dearest.” wriothesley chuckles, fastening the clasp behind your neck. you feel the weight of the necklace press against your skin comfortably – it was perfect. almost as if it was carved and put together just for you.

the man presses a soft and gentle kiss to your nape for good measure. it felt warm and supple – oh, the butterflies were certainly awake now.

“it’s beautiful.” you touch the pearls once more, staring at yourself in the mirror with a smirking wriothesley behind it.

“my taste never lies.”

“it truly doesn’t. impeccable taste, my love.” you thumb his lips and pull him closer for a quick kiss, feeling a warmth between your ribs.

“i think we’ll take this one.” wriothesley pulls apart, slightly delirious with a grin and giving the jeweller a small nod.

you laugh and bury your head into his chest, leaning against his frame. oh, how warm and lovely market days were. you would spend every day in this little bubble of yours, this sweet marginalia of love in a footnote of your adoration for him.

“i think i like this one very much.” a soft giggle slips past your lips. wriothesley pokes your chest gently, smoothing your hair back to kiss your forehead.

“i think i like this one very much, too.”

[venjras]

MIND GAMES - EREN YEAGER.

screaming, crying, throwing up, i love this one sm. hope you’ll enjoy it too. nsfw : slightly exhibitionism, dirty talk, fingering, dry humping, use of pet names, mention of alcool.

you felt on top of the world tonight, you could feel the electricity running through your entire body. heading to the bar where your boyfriend was waiting for you with his friends, since you were early for your date with your bestie you had decided to stop by for a quick hi. after all, it had been a while since you had last seen the boys.

you would have recognized your boyfriend's dark hair from miles away, sitting with one arm resting on the couch, shirt unbuttoned and a bold smirk as he talked to the others. it still seemed unreal that he was your boyfriend. sigh, entering his vision and immediately gaining his full attention. his gaze was quite literally setting you on fire, making it really difficult for you to walk properly towards them. “oh, oh, look who's back.” it was erwin's voice greeting you, bringing you back to the real world. in the meantime eren had stood up, immediately putting an arm around your waist and stealing a small kiss from you. “hello, my love.” his deep tone ran straight down your spine, creating a flock of butterflies in your stomach that made it hard to breathe. trying not to show it, settling next to him, taking off your jacket and leaving it abandoned next to your body, leaving your fit completely expose.

a flowing mini skirt that reached just above your mid thigh, a black shirt tucked into it, extremely tight, mid-knee boots and as a final touch hanging from your neck was the necklace he had given you for your anniversary. shiny. “didn’t think you’d miss me that much, don’t worry it won’t happen again.” you said sarcastically, greeting levi, jean and armin sitting around the rest of the table. they all adored you and it was a mutual feeling, right from the start you had found a really good connection and after all they had turned out to be such precious friends for eren so it couldn’t have been otherwise.

speaking of the devil, he hadn’t taken his eyes off you for not even a second. his arm was stretched out behind you, his hand caressing the back of your neck. he always needed some form of physical contact, even small and this thing had always driven you crazy. it made you weak, slowing down any logic and rational thought. putting you under a spell. you were all lost in talking, chatting about the news and joking animatedly. after half an hour you glimpsed your friend and stood up to hug her immediately. the skirt had risen up a bit, giving a dizzying view to the dark-haired man who couldn't help but lick his lips. just enough to tease him a little. tonight you felt inspired, you wanted to provoke him and maybe end up bent over in the back of his car. obviously the view was simply reserved for him, behind you all was the wall and it was something calculated to perfection. putting on your coat, bending a little to greet him with a kiss and finding his hand on the back of your thigh, caressing the naked skin with his fingertips. “i’ll take you home, hmm? have fun, babydoll.” and so he let you go, your head spinning and your friend’s words sounding all jumbled together.

the hours passed quickly, between one drink and another, not enough to make you drunk but enough to make you feel lightheaded. however, the feeling in the pit of your stomach had not abandoned you, in fact it had only increased. now you were in the car with him, in the passenger seat, you two were driving your friend home. and once you were alone, silence had fallen, but it was a silence full of desire, as if there was no need to speak to know what was going to happen soon. very soon. “baby..” you turned your head towards him, reaching out to caress his hair, now tied in a small ponytail at the back of his head. “i really, really need you.” the words had come out fluidly before you could even think about them, your voice full of need, of desire. taking his hand, already resting on your thigh, bringing it even higher until it collided with the edge of your panties.

the car suddenly stopped, luckily you were on a not very busy street and almost immersed in nothing but pitch black so it was rare for other cars to pass by. in no time you were on top of him, his mouth attached to yours, drinking you up desperately. hands squeezing your ass, pushing you down on his clothed erection, making you feel how much the whole situation was anything but indifferent to him. moaning against his lips. starting to move your hips against his cock, panting as you felt how hard he was. “need you so bad..” your voice was needy, pulling away from him just so you could look at him with pleading eyes, thinking that you could easily come just by seeing him with labored breathing and messy hair, totally fucked.

now he had you turned, back against his chest and the car visor lowered so you could see yourself in the small mirror. legs spread, blushing violently at the thought of being completely exposed to his merce. “you wanted to play, then let’s play.” he said huskily in your ear, making you want to clench your thighs together in search of some relief but being stopped by his hands that kept them well spread. “eren..” your voice was begging him, lifting your hips slightly as one of your hands went back, squeezing his dark locks, not thinking you could resist any longer. you needed him to touch you right now. “what a messy girl.” he quipped at the way your thighs seemed to spread wider at those word, your impatience made him feel lightheaded. his fingers stroking softly along your wet folds through the panties’ fabric. his breathing fanned along your neck and his lips curled when you shuddered into him, drinking in the twitch of your thighs and the muffled whimper slipped from your lips when he collected your slick, trailing it up to ease the first roll of your clit.

he watched your hips twist under his touch, making him press down on the sensitive bud harder before he's finding a pace and rubbing at you with two fingers. your hands grabbing at his forearm with every sinful circle of his fingers against your cunt, whimpering needily against his body and it's almost like you're begging him not to stop, and that only drives him to press into you even harder, more eagerly as he get lost in the way your lips part to moan when he finally sinks his fingers into your pussy. penties finally pulled to the side. “so fucking wet, my pussy it’s always so ready f’ me." he groaned, his tone wavering with the weight of his arousal. he took a handful of your breast through your shirt, grinning when he realised you've decided to go out without a bra tonight, rolling and twisting at the sensitive peak as you whimpered. “such a dirty girl..” eren’s words were heavy, only making the slick between your legs intensify, making it easier for him to sink his fingers into your tight walls, pressing them against the swollen, sensitive spots inside of you with every practiced twist of his wrist. your clit was getting puffier, more swollen with each graze of his palm against it and he couldn't help but pull out of your cunt to rub your slick around it. so so sensitive to his touch.

“e — eren.. ” you gasped, trying desperately to muffle your moans when you looked over to cast him a starry-eyed look, one that lured him in for a kiss that made the whole car spin as his other hand rolled your sensitive nipple between his thumb and forefinger. drinking in your next languid moan of his name, licking into your mouth with such an intensity that made you gasp.

“that's my girl, fuck — ” your thighs trembled around him, breaking apart from the kiss wetly to let your head fall back against his shoulder. he kept up his movements, sinking his fingers into your clenching walls with every few swipes just so he could feel the way you were soon going to be squeezing around his length. letting you ride out your orgasm as you grabbed at him and your hips twisted and jolted with every rub of his fingers as they pulled back to roll your clit, prolonging your blissful state until you were pushing him away with a whimper and breathless pant. but he was breathing heavy from where his chin was pressed into your shoulder, grazing his lips along your jawline when he tapped on your clit. chuckling at the way the tiny aftershocks made you jolt before he gently tapped on your thigh.

you just could never win with him, you would always end up at his feet in the end. not only metaphorically.

©️ venjras.

[bigtedbear]

" 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐰𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 "

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: 𝐡𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐨 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧, 𝐡𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐨 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧, 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐥𝐥?

content warnings: male reader, comfort/hurt/comfort, two old men, SFW, ill/chronically ill reader, misunderstood feelings, fontaine story quest spoilers!!!, Furina is the same gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss, bear with me theyre in love they're just doomed by the narrative

clarification: case of collywobbles translates roughly to a case of butterflies in the stomach

the plan for this chapter changed as I was writing it and the title of the chapter became basically irrelevant BUT i still think it's fitting

" welcome back, caller @yuri1306! connecting your line as we speak... "

*dramatic drumroll*

hey guys it's finally out

A fair warning to all my returning readers: this may not be my best work, I'll be the first to admit that a lot of this was impeded by my writers block and I really needed to just push this out to get past it

many apologizes to @yuri1306 I did my best to try and encapsulate the entirety of your request my creative flow was not creatively flowing as well as it usually does :(((

That being said I don't think it's bad!!!

I still hope you all enjoy <33

“She really is quite something, is she not?” 

Neuvillette’s head pivoted to turn to the new voice. Unfamiliar at best, intimidating at worst. 

Furina de Fontaine’s inaugural speech; a historic moment and a moment none in attendance were soon to forget.  

Yet, instead of flocking to the stage to request audience with Focalors herself, you were here. 

You lagged behind the crowd. 

You chose to speak with Neuvillette instead. 

In accordance with social etiquette, he wiped the suspicious look off of his face.  “She is confident, assertive.  She has done well in establishing a name for herself in a social setting as brutal as the court.” 

You hummed, resting both palms on the intricate cane you’d chosen to accessorize yourself with.  “It’s a shame in all actuality.  She would have done better to take the harsh critique of the first half of her speech.  I would much prefer to see a face of humility and honesty leading the nation of justice.” 

Neuvillette did not respond. 

The silence was supposedly uncomfortable, and yet the regular churning nausea of awkward tension didn’t seem to constrict the Iudex’s airway. 

Carefully, you peeled a gloved hand from the handle of your cane.  You offered it to the judge politely.  

Cautiously, he gripped it in his own hand before giving it a simple shake. 

“I am [name], I have been appointed to serve as the acting chief advisor of Fontaine.  It is a pleasure to meet you, Monsieur Neuvillette.” 

“How did you-”

You raised a brow curiously, looking at the large crowd of people before looking back to the other man still currently holding your hand in his own.  “...forgive my cheek when I say this, Monsieur, but it truly isn’t difficult to pick you out of a crowd.  I must say, your predecessor didn’t mince his words when it came to describing your appearance, you are exactly as he described.”

Even as you hid the amused expression stretching the lower half of your face behind your fingers, the red tainting his otherwise pale skin was not as easily disguised.  Still, even in the face of his unmistakable embarrassment, he did his best to steer the conversation elsewhere.  “You’ve spoken to him?” 

You nodded, resting a hand on your cane.  “For someone as old as I am, I have my connections.”  You gestured towards the stage, “Lest another have been chosen for this position.” 

Another silence settled between the two of you.

He coughed into his fist, volume diminishing as he asked, “My predecessor, he didn’t… speak poorly of me, did he?”

He watched your expression twist with mirth, eyes glinting with poorly veiled amusement.  “No, nothing of the sort.  You can rest assured he was nothing but kind towards you.”  You paused, leaning on your cane as you seemed to think on your words, “Well, at the very least, he wasn’t cruel.  I’m sure you of all people know he’s become far too short-tempered for pleasantries.” 

Neuvillette sighed, posture deflating just the slightest bit.  

It was impossible to miss the chuckle that escaped at his expense. “In the very least, you were spared the worst of mentors.  I’ve heard that one of the remaining Adepti seems intent on meddling in their apprentice’s love lives.”

“You can’t be serious,” the other man responded. 

“Oh, completely serious,” You gestured for him to follow you out into the lobby; there was far less crowding, “I felt so terribly for the young woman last I made the journey to Liyue.  If you were to ask my opinion on the matter, Xianyun is far in over her head trying to meddle in the affairs of young love.” 

He blinked, “Xianyun?” 

You hummed, placing a contemplative hand under your chin.  “You’ve never left the boundaries of Fontaine, have you?” 

He shook his head. 

“Her Adeptal name is Cloud Retainer, aside from that, she is referred to by the name Xianyun.  She has currently taken on an apprentice in the shape of a young half-human half-adeptus,” you explained, trailing up the steps to and from the large theater.  “Ganyu has a very sweet temperament, but it seems as her master attempts to push further into her personal affairs, the further she’s moving to get away from her.” 

Neuvillette nodded his head, tentatively following your lead away from the large crowd.  “Is this related to why you are treating Lady Furina in a similar manner?” 

You paused, looking towards him.  “Oh, not in the slightest.” 

You could see the confusion growing further onto his face. You snickered behind your glove again, turning your back to continue trailing up the stairs.

Still, he followed you up the countless steps towards the lobby.  “I see… I suppose I’m having trouble understanding why you wouldn’t be at Lady Furina’s side in a moment like this.” 

You hummed, “Well, the hydro archon has already made her bed, I can do nothing but allow her to lay in it.” 

“I’m… not following.” 

You tapped your cane on the floor pointedly, “Well, Focalors has many plans to set in motion.  I play both a pivotal role in the production myself, but as of now, my only obligation is to play the role of a spectator.” 

Neuvillette’s brows furrowed. “...Has she asked you to be away from her in these moments?” 

You shook your head.  “Not directly.  But upon watching her grand performance upon the equally grand stage, what choice am I left with?” You pushed open the door to the lobby with one hand, pressing your back against it to allow Neuvillette to cross the threshold first. “Lady Furina has portrayed herself as the almighty, someone completely untouchable by the likes of man or any other power.”  

“Are you upset by her decision to do so?” The Iudex inquired, gripping his own cane closer to his chest.

You shook your head, "Not at all.  But let’s think for a moment what it would look like if the moment she steps off the stage, all questions are instead directed to her advisor.” You followed after him in the next breath, trailing towards the entrance to the grand theater. “In most scenarios, her all-powerful archon of justice is immediately crumpled in the eyes of the common person.” 

“...” 

You shrugged, “At least, when I put myself in the shoes of the lay person, I am not fooled.  She can put on as grand an act as she wishes on the stage, but when she is no longer in a space that is built for a performance, the reality behind the facade is suddenly revealed.  If Furina de Fontaine really is all knowing and all knowledgeable, why would she need to hide behind her advisor in the face of questions?” 

Neuvillette almost audibly heard something click in his brain.  “You are staying away so she can better maintain her image?” He pushed the door to the Epiclese open, welcoming in the sunlight.

You snapped your fingers, “Correct!” You dusted your shoulder off as you passed through the door.  “She MUST rely on herself. There is no glancing to the sidelines for reassurance or answers, this solution removes all distractions.”

The Iudex nodded, thoughtful.  “I believe I’m beginning to understand.” 

“I’m glad,” you took in a deep breath of air as you began to make the long trek towards the Fountain of Lucine,

“We are, of course, going to be working together for a very long time.”

“I figured I would find you here.”

Against the noise of rain pelting against his back, the Iudex lifted his head from his contemplative stupor. 

The dreary grays of the backdrop seemed to melt together similarly to how his thoughts slowly blended together to form one big amalgamated lump.  Still, in spite of the hail Mary of all storms  boring holes into the fabric of your umbrella, you stood face to face with him in the rain. 

“...”

“...”

He gave a half-hearted sigh, any coherent thought swimming in the puddles sloshing against the bottoms of his shoes. 

“Why are you out?” 

You didn’t answer to start with.  He didn’t know if it was because you were thinking over your words or if it was because you couldn’t hear him over the sound of water against the pavement. 

“Well, why are you out?” 

Answering a question with another question; typical. 

“I am troubled.” 

You hummed, moving your umbrella off your shoulder.  You held it between the two of you, equidistant so it’d stop the rain pouring all over the other man’s handsome features. 

“Troubled about what, Neuvillette?” 

The skin between his brows creased as he tried to come up with a good answer. 

He was a judge, someone that is meant to be completely unbiased in the face of the law.  He is to hear a case, come to the correct conclusion, and be able to live with himself at the end of the day. 

“A case.” 

You waited…

…and waited…

…and then waited some more. 

“...a case?” You tilted your head to the side. 

Neuvillette struggled to hold eye contact, letting his gaze drop to the rising flood.  “It was a case of theft, a single mother.” 

You gave a knowing hum.  “I see.  Have you come to the conundrum of justice versus fairness?” 

Again, you waited on a response. 

“...It isn’t so much that I haven’t seen cases like this before, it was something about the desperation on her face as she begged for leniency I was unable to grant her.” 

You nodded again.  “Still, am I correct to assume you have come to the moral dilemma of fairness versus justice?” 

His frown only deepened.  “I do not understand what you mean.” 

You poked a finger to your temple, “Well, logically, you are aware that theft is a crime.  You know that it is just and correct to dole out a sentence for a crime."

“...”

You poked him in the chest, “But you feel like the sentence is unfair because she had no other choice.”  

“...”

“You, as the Iudex, are unable to give her leniency because she committed a crime, but your heart wants to right the injustices she and her child are forced to endure,” You gestured towards the streets.  “The Court of Fontaine rarely sees those less fortunate unless they are begging.  Despite being the ones in charge, those in the Court are shielded from the problems of the common person.  You aren’t used to seeing someone in a situation where crimes become a necessity.” 

“...I suppose I am not.” 

You nodded again, “You see her, you hear her cries, you know her reasons, and yet, as a judge, you are unable to save her.  You must be wondering, why is that?” 

Like a lost puppy, Neuvillette’s head bobbed up and down. 

 "I’m afraid, I cannot answer,”  You reached into your breast pocket, blindly searching for your pocket watch.  “We can only have faith that the system will work in its due time.  Pray that the Fortress of Meropide treats her well, ask of Focalors to look over the poor child in the House of the Hearth.” 

“...”

“...”

“...”

The corner of your lips quirked up in a smile.  “What can be considered a misfortune can actually be a blessing in disguise.” 

Neuvillette tilted his head to the side. 

You gestured to the falling water,  “Rain may be commonplace in Fontaine, but in areas of Teyvat, rain is so rare it’s considered a sign or blessing.” 

“...That may be so.”

You adjusted your grasp on the umbrella.  “I am not originally from Fontaine.  Where I am from, rainfall this heavy would be considered a wonderful blessing.”

“...”

You waited for a response from him.  However, he didn’t seem to have one to give. 

“...”

You reached a hand out to him.  

He stared at it for a moment.  

You did your best to smile. 

“What is this for?” 

“Well,” you began, “You seem to be in low spirits.  I thought perhaps I would do my best to help shift your perspective.   There will be no convincing you unless there is some kind of change of pace.”

He frowned.  “Do you intend to lead me somewhere?” 

You shook your head.  

“...Well, what do you intend to do in any case?” 

You gestured to the water cascading down the sides of the plastic umbrella, “I want to celebrate a bountiful rain.”  

His sour expression only seemed to deepen as he looked around.  “I don’t understand what there is to celebrate.  We are in Fontaine.  Rain is an impediment to daily life.” 

You sighed, “Well, I want to help reframe your thoughts.”  You pointed to him, “Your perspective on the rain is inherently negative.  You believe it’s nothing but a nuisance.”  

“...”

You placed a hand over your heart, “It might have been a while since I’ve made a trip home, but still, everytime the rain is plentiful, it brings a smile to my face.” 

Once again, he didn’t respond.   Wordlessly, his gloved hand slipped into your own. 

Tentatively, you dropped the umbrella to the ground, facing the full wrath of the droplets soaking into your expensive suit.  

Immediately, Neuvillette’s face twisted in alarm. 

Still, you took his other hand in your own, beginning the steps to the traditional Fontainian Waltz.  

His mouth opened to speak, but it seemed without the shield of the umbrella, you couldn’t hear the sound of his protests.   Instead, you dropped one of his hands to bring him into a messy twirl. 

He flailed awkwardly for a moment, cheeks lighting up a red hue as he did his best not to slip on the wet bricks. It was more than obvious he was used to dancing the lead.   Even in his embarrassment, it seemed he didn’t have the heart to stop you. 

At the sound of a jovial laugh, even as the sky cried around the two of you, he felt his burning cheeks begin to light up in flames. 

Slowly, but surely, the clouds began to part. 

Another twirl, a few more shuffling paces, a misstep from him, more snickers at his expense.

Another handful of steps, and this time he would be the one to twirl you around.

It seemed time melded into a loop, nothing more than a concept that happened to slip your mind. The rain dissipated to nothing more than a fond memory.

As the dance came to a close, you coughed into the palm of your glove, trying to clear your throat.  “Are you feeling any better now, Monsieur Neuvillette?” 

“Just Neuvillette. Monsieur feels much too formal.”

Your polite smile stretched upwards just a little more as your shoes created little ripples in the surface of the unnaturally large puddles.  “I’ll take it that you are feeling better, then?” 

“Much.  Thank you.” 

You nodded again, “Well, I want to continue our discussion from earlier–about the mother and her upcoming sentence.” 

“...hm?” 

You chuckled, “Did you forget already?” 

He shook his head, “Of course not!” He tapped his cane against the ground, “It’s simply the fact I lack understanding for why you are bringing up the subject again.” 

You hummed, playfully incredulous.  “Yes, yes, anyways, let me make my point,” You cleared your throat once again, “Think of her sentence as a new beginning for both her and her child.  The Fortress of Meropide is by no means a kind place, but it is no crueler than the same streets that forced her to become a thief in the first place.” 

He tucked an arm behind his back. 

“Just as you viewed the rain as a nuisance, she views her sentence as a punishment.  In reality, I believe the situation is a blessing in disguise,”  You made a circular motion with your wrist, “Both her and her child will be cared for by their respective shelters.  She will have a job to occupy her time, a source of income, and her and her child will go to sleep in a warm bed, well fed.  Mother and son are only going to be separated for a short period of time, hopefully when they are reunited, the mother will have found steady employment in the Fortress.”

“Your health is beginning to get worse.”

Your eyes trailed behind you. “I'm surprised you noticed, my Lady. You've been busy as of late.”

Furina clicked her tongue, shaking her head dismissively. “What kind of archon would I be if I was not aware of my personal retainer’s health? You underestimate me.”

You rolled your eyes, flicking her nose affectionately. “I am your advisor, not your retainer nor your assistant. I am aware of your struggles, you don't need to pretend when it's just the two of us.”

Her cheeks puffed up angrily, rubbing the red blurb on her face. “Even if nobody is around, that doesn't mean you can embarrass me!”

You reached into your pocket to pull out a handkerchief, laughter turning into coughing behind a palm. You held the cloth over your mouth, feeling much too weak and pitiful for your own good. “Apologies, Lady Furina,” you sputtered out, “I will refrain from putting you in such a position in the future.”

She huffed, turning up her nose. “I expect nothing less from you.”

You took a deep breath, wiping your face with your kerchief. Stilling your breathing, you gave a cursory glance at the “Hydro Archon”. After so long of suffering, it pained you to know that she was indeed so far away from the finish line. “My Lady, I am afraid my time may come sooner rather than later.”

Her eyes widened. “You can't mean you're...”

You shook your head, doing your best to suppress another laugh for the sake of your throat, “No! Gods, no. I am anything but fragile, I will make it perfectly fine.”

She let out a groan, immediately taking to beating on your arm indignantly. “You infidel! You made me believe you were going to pass away! How cruel!”

You shielded yourself from her attacks playfully, backing up and raising your hands to stop her, “How terrible, Furina! You're attacking a sick man in broad daylight!”

She let another irritated groan slip, smacking your arm once more, “Only because you attacked me first!”

You cocked your head to the side, “I did not!”

“Did too!” She pointed an accusatory finger, “You attacked my emotional wellbeing! How was I supposed to be able to recover from the death of my most treasured advisor?”

You placed a hand over your heart, “You mean it, my lady?”

Her cheeks puffed up again, swelling a brilliant claret. She only grew more incensed as you continued to poke at her. Though, instead of using your words, your failure to quash a smile was more than enough to provoke her.

Still, as the merciful and benevolent archon she was, she pardoned your sins.

She crossed her arms, “When are you leaving?”

“Leaving?”

You felt a prick of anxiety inject its way into your nervous system. “Ah, Neuvillette, how lovely to see you again.”

Furina also paused in her tracks at the familiar voice. She remained silent.

“A pleasure to meet your acquaintance again, Lady Furina, [name],” he offered out a hand for you to shake. Hastily, you tucked your handkerchief in your breast pocket. “What is this about leaving?”

You took his hand in your own, “Nothing drastic, simply an appointment I must be on time for. Regrettably, I will be unable to spectate the proceedings of today’s trial.”

Neuvillette nodded, “I see. There will always be the archives in my office in case you'd like to catch up with the case material at any point.”

You nodded, humming with a courteous smile. “Perhaps I will take you up on that offer.”

Furina finally took the chance to speak up, “You have yet to answer my question, Monsieur. As your superior, I believe I am privy to such information.”

You diverted your attention from Neuvillette, pondering for a moment. “Around 15:00? I believe that should be ample time to make my appointment.”

Neuvillette perked up immediately, “Ah, is this in regards to your cough?”

Nodding, you turned your attention to the Grand Theatre, “Unfortunately it is. Usually, I would've recovered by this point, but because it's persisting I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands.”

Furina pulled her own small pocketwatch from where it was stashed. It popped open with a quiet, ‘click!’ “It seems we’ll have to cut this chance meeting short, Guests will be arriving soon for the trial.”

Neuvillette nodded, “I suppose we should be heading inside to take our seats,” He made a vague motion with a gloved hand, “Shall we?”

“Furina, would you be so kind as to allow us a moment alone?” She cocked her head to the side at your suggestion, but she relented.

“Alright, but before I leave, can I request just one thing?” She crossed her arms in front of her chest.

Dutifully, you nodded.

She beckoned you closer with a finger.

It was your turn to raise a brow at her.

Still, you leaned in.

She tugged on your sleeve.

You leaned in even further.

“Come back in one piece,” she whispered, pinching the shell of your ear.

You gave a yelp as you tugged your head away from her assaulting fingers, rubbing the new crescent marks her nails left behind. “Now, was that really necessary, my Lady?”

She gave a triumphant smile, though you could tell by the way it wilted at the corners, she was less than thrilled. She placed a hand over her heart, giving her signature bow, “Perfectly necessary. Now, allow me to excuse myself.” Still, as she stood, she pointed an accusatory finger, “Keep this brief, after all Monsieur Neuvillette has a trial to preside over.”

“Of course,” you placed a hand over your own heart, mirroring her as you lowered your head, “I wouldn't dream of delaying any proceedings.”

She allowed herself one more parting glance before scampering off into the building to take her seat.

Watching her figure disappear, you finally returned your gaze back to Neuvillette. You coughed into your fist, trying to alleviate the pressure in your trachea. He only observed you silently.

“Neuvillette?”

“Yes?”

“Take a walk with me,” regretfully, you tacked on, “I'd enjoy your company one last time.”

It was unlike such a building to be so quiet. Still, given the hour, the Palais Mermonia lay dormant.

Only the Iudex and his retainer remained. Despite his more than spacious residential quarters, his chambers were too restrictive on this night in particular. They felt empty. They felt devoid of something, he just didn't know what.

So, instead of sleeping, he found himself running his hand along the cold marble walls. Trailing the corridor without a particular destination in mind, the candle in his other hand flickered and cast its shadow against the dark. It dawned on Neuvillette that he truly neglected the rest of his home the longer he walked. A vast dining hall, an equally large kitchen, a comically extensive library; all completely left to rot as he worked himself to death.

As he reached his hand to turn the knob of another door, he felt a sense of trepidation wash over him. One that wasn't present when he entered any of the other rooms.

Why?

…

He didn't know.

He let his grip lay slack on the handle for another moment while he wracked his brain for any ideas. What was this room? Had he been here before? Why could he feel his hand shaking?

Finally, he put those thoughts out of his mind when the lock clicked open and the wooden door swung open with a loud ‘creeeaaakkkk’.

‘Ah,’ he realized, ‘This was one of his rooms.’

A grand study, unchanged by time, greeted him. It was as if you'd never left. Sprawling bookshelves climbing up each wall, ladders haphazardly laid to lean on the dusty spines of forgotten books. An even larger than life desk at the far end, spotted with unsigned paperwork and long dried up ink pots. Even sadder, a single lamplight lily wilted in its pot at the corner of your desk.

He felt his heart crumble when he realized he had been the one to put it there.

The little makeshift lounge was equally well-preserved. A porcelain tea set he remembered so fondly collected dust at the center of the coffee table. Your favorite book lay across the arm of your favorite cushioned seat, a pressed flower bookmark denoting where you'd left off.

Neuvillette was almost tempted to pick up the novel himself, but he was afraid of two things. One, he didn't want to ruin this serenity, this moment frozen in time. Two, he didn't know if the book would actually hold itself together based on its age.

The armchair groaned as Neuvillette rested his weight on it. He felt a little bit like a loser, sitting alone in the middle of an empty room. Especially because the longer he sat, the more alone he felt. How long had it been since you invited him into your study like this? Could he even remember? It'd been around a century since you'd left…

…or had it been longer?

It only seemed to homogenize and blur the more he tried to remember. Years were starting to look more and more like the last the longer his monotonous life droned on.

It was so bad he couldn't remember how long ago it was he saw your face, but he remembered it. He definitely remembered what had been said.

'“Since you're needed elsewhere, I'm afraid much of what I want to say will go unsaid.”

“What do you mean?”

“I apologize for trying to deceive you, I truly am sorry,” you tapped your cane against the ground, “I was so close to getting away with it, too.”

“Deceiving me?” His expression shifted, “About what?”

“I’m leaving, yes,” You sighed, “But I'm afraid I won't be coming back.”

It felt like his heart stopped completely.

“I didn't want to drag you into matters that were already settled between myself and Focalors, but I know how you feel about me,” you awkwardly switched the hand gripping your cane, “When I thought about how devastated you'd be when you'd learned I'd lied to you, I decided I had to tell you.”

“But why?” Neuvillette asked, “Why would you only tell me now?”

A grimace overtook your features as the skies began to softly weep his sorrows, “You mustn't cry Neuvillette, Fontaine will need your strength now more than ever.”

“Do you really expect me to be strong in a moment like this? Am I not allowed to mourn?” He went to reach for your face, but his arm fell back to his side dejectedly. “You really won't be returning?”

“Knowing what I must do, I also know it will be the last of me.”

“Do you really need to leave today?” The Iudex grappled for some kind of opportunity, “Just one day, if I can have that, I can make peace with this.”

You shook your head, “I've put this off for too long already, I was afraid Fontaine wouldn't be ready for me to leave, I was even more afraid Furina wouldn't be able to continue on without me.”

“Not even a day?”

“I've made up my mind.” You finally let yourself rest a gloved hand on his cheek, watching his posture deflate while he leaned into your touch, “I'm eager to make this sacrifice for Fontaine, but I'm less than eager to leave you behind.”

“Why must you be the one to do it?” His voice came out like a whisper.

“I can't tell you,” you brushed your thumb across his cheek, wiping the rain away from his eyes, “But I want you to know before I am gone that you were loved, Neuvillette. I loved you, and I will die loving you.”

“Don't say that, please, don't say that.”

“Then, can I ask a favor of you?”

“Anything, anything I can offer.”

You smiled, “Take care of Furina, and take care of Fontaine.”’

How cruel, Neuvillette thought.

How cruel for Furina to leave him such a painful reminder this close to the very bed he slept in every night.

How awful for her to keep her hopes up when Neuvillette knew you wouldn’t return.

After all, what other reason would there be for her to keep your office so well maintained, so perfectly preserved and untouched.

It felt like Neuvillette was sitting in an empty tomb.

The wooden legs of the chair shrieked against the tile of the floor in the deafeningly silent study. He didn’t know where his feet were taking him, but he couldn’t decide on whether he wanted to leave or if he needed to stay longer.

Still, he paused in front of your former desk.

He didn't know why.

He also didn't know why he sat down in your nice leather office chair, rolling himself in so he could rest his head on the cool wooden desktop.

He didn't know why he was disappointed it didn't smell like you anymore. Of course it didn't smell like you, it'd been at least a hundred years since you were here. But maybe if he dug deep into his memories, he could pretend it did.

If he had gotten to have just one day, he could've made peace with your passing.

But how do you say goodbye to someone you considered to be your forever in just a few short moments?

Neuvillette couldn't come up with a good answer before he fell asleep again.

“Tall, lean, and emaciated. It was entirely unexpected for him to wake up at all.”

Furina clicked her tongue, dismissively. “I may not be the Hydro Archon any longer, but that doesn't mean you are allowed to freely criticize me. I asked to see him, I care not what state he's in.”

The attendant bowed stiffly, shoulders scrunched up. “I-I apologize, my lady,” He stammered, “I was unaware of what your intentions in meeting up with this man were, I believed his physical condition to be-”

She gave an irritated huff, puffing up her chest to express her discontent. Instantly, the man’s jaw snapped shut. She waved her hand. When the attendant didn't move, she waved her hand again.

Still, he didn't move.

“Helloooo? Do you have any idea what's going on?” Her expression shifted to be entirely displeased, “You are dismissed.”

“O-Oh!”

She watched the man scurry off like a sad puppy with its tail between its legs.

Finally, she turned her attention to the rather large door to the private room tucked away inside the infirmary of the Fortress of Meropide. She was left alone with her thoughts. Consequently, she could now focus on the nerves creeping up her spine.

It had been a month since the prophecy had been fulfilled, since she had saved the entirety of Fontaine.

She was free to be Furina now, free from her duties as the human half of Focalors.

It was exactly why she felt so confused about her anxiety of whatever lay beyond this door.

Her hands were clammy, her breathing accelerating. Her vision was starting to swim, and oh archons, was that a stress migraine brewing? For all the hard work she put into this, she didn't seem to be feeling the payoff.

But she couldn't be thinking like that now!

Instead of letting her doubts and worries consume her, she placed a shaky hand to the cold metal handle. Her movements were unsure as she wrapped her fingers around the bar. It felt like all the strength in her arm evaporated the longer she held onto the handle without doing anything.

So she used what little strength was left to sharply tug the door open.

"..."

“Furina?”

"..."

By the gods.

“Furina-” the voice was an exhausted rasp, “You have to tell me the seal didn't break, the prophecy didn't happen, I can't have failed-”

Her mouth opened to reassure you everything was fine, but the next moment her lips were curling as she tried to bite back a sniffle.

You took this to mean the worst, eyebrows curling upward in despair. A shaky hand reached towards your face, layering over your mouth.

Still, even when seeing you so worried and disappointed in yourself, she couldn't bring herself to cough up any words of affirmation.

'You didn't fail! Everyone was saved!’ she wanted to scream.

But instead she took a shaky first step over to the terribly thin cot you were situated on. Her arm absentmindedly raised to reach toward you.

“No, no, no, no, no-” Your hand raked through your already disheveled hair.

She took another step.

You pressed your hands together, hands clasped tight as you looked to the skies above, “I'm sorry, Egeria, Focalors, I promised I would- I swore-”

She began to walk.

“I promised Fontaine would be in good hands- I never meant to lie to you, Archons above if you may hear, forgive me-”

She could feel her own tears begin to slide down her cheeks as she watched you begin to openly weep, to pray and beg for some kind of mercy you did not need. She felt like a bag of bones as she took a seat next to you on the edge of the cot.

Your attention finally snapped to her, “Furina, my darling Furina, to you I am the most sorry-” You took a gasping breath, chest shaking as you heaved out another weak cry, “You have suffered in silence for centuries without me and I was unable to do the very least I promised to you-”

Her arm felt equally weightless when you picked up one of her limp hands to wrap up in your larger palms. Before you could continue to beg for forgiveness, her facial features twisted into just the smallest smile.

You almost didn't notice it until she started laughing.

With a renewed vigor, she wrapped her other hand around one of yours. Tears of relief streaming down her face, she all but shouted a victory cry in the middle of the quiet infirmary room, “We did it! We really did it! You don't need to be forgiven because we did it!”

As she celebrated, her happy tears flowed down her face, you didn't know how to respond at all.

“We… did it?”

She nodded quickly, all but shaking. “Yes, it's over, [name], we can finally rest.”

You blinked again, all but ceasing your tears.

“We can… rest? But- but what about-”

Your mind filtered between all the different things you could say.

What about your promise to Egeria? The deal you made with Focalors? You had sworn you would lay your life down to pave the pathway for a free Fontaine, a Fontaine without a curse lingering overhead. The seal you had sworn to protect until your last breath, it had broken… but it was still okay.

You were still here.

But what had happened? Were there any complications or bumps in the road? What about Furina? What would she do in her life as a cursed human? What would YOU do? And then there was…

“Neuvillette!” You suddenly snapped back to full alert, “What about Neuvillette?”

She smacked your arm, “You managed to survive and your first thought isn't even about yourself!” She sighed, wiping a tear from her cheek, “300 years has done nothing to change you.”

It was as though her words went in one ear and out the other, “What has become of him? Is he alright? He’s been well, hasn't he? Please tell me nothing too awful has happened to him.”

This time, she smacked your arm with an added aggression, “[name]! Neuvillette is fine! Would you please relax?” Still despite urging him to relax, she couldn't help the way her hands seemed to move on their own. Tiny claps, each ringing in the empty room with a joyous sound, “It's only seeming to sink in now that we are free.” She paused again, “Free, isn't that such a beautiful word?”

You nodded, but your thoughts wandered. “Indeed.”

Furina tutted, crossing her arms, “And what exactly has your mind wandering this time? Don't tell me it's still Neuvillette!”

You sheepishly averted your eye contact.

She pouted, “Well? Out with it!”

You sighed, “Does he know? That I am still…”

She hummed thoughtfully, “I didn't think to tell him. I was far too busy trying to find you, you rascal.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “However, I can assure you he will be nothing less than overjoyed to see you.”

You swallowed a lump of spit, “He will?”

She nodded, “Even all these years later, he hasn't moved on. You're lucky he is as loyal a man as can be, otherwise he might have moved on.”

“He waited… 300 years? Without any other relationships?”

“I would hardly believe it myself if I were you, but I've seen him make the trek to your old study with my own two eyes!” She folded her hands in her lap, “He really is as loyal at they come.”

You frowned, “That doesn't make me feel any better.”

She tilted her head to the side, “Why not? After all, you two were in love, weren't you?”

“I..." you began, "...don't know. Silly, irrational fears, I guess."

But you definitely knew.

How does one go about saying hello without a proper goodbye?

Especially when there wasn't supposed to be a "you" to say "hello" to in the first place.

“I came as soon as I heard-”

Furina stood from where she was seated just outside your room in the infirmary, “You’ll have to wait,  Siegewinne is with him right now.” 

His knuckles turned white around the handle of his cane, “Surely, she wouldn’t be bothered if I just stood in, if I could just–”

“Neuvillette,” Furina warned, “Whatever Siegewinne orders is in the best interests of her patient.  It isn’t our place to question her.” 

His hands were shaking as he tried to plead his case, moving closer to the door, “Lady Furina, you don’t understand.  I have to see him, I must see that it is truly him, that he is truly alive–” 

He was rambling at this point, so dizzyingly frenzied he could barely feel Furina’s smaller hands curl around his biceps, “Calm down!” 

“I-”

“No, no more arguments,” she shook him gently, “You need to pull yourself together before you become another patient.   You’re paler than I’ve ever seen you.” 

He went to open his mouth again, but one look from the former archon sent his jaw snapping shut.  The two stood in silence for a moment, just staring at each other.  

“...”

“...”

After a long moment, punctuated with labored breathing and more words exchanged through the eyes than could be described, the Iudex finally peeled his lips open to ask a final question. 

“Is it… really him?”

Furina let his words hang in the air for a moment before asking a question of her own, “Will knowing help you settle down while we wait?”

“I don’t know,” he answered, “but I feel so strongly that I must know.”

She chewed her lip contemplatively, weighing both options in her head.  Before she could decide, the lock on the door quietly clicked open in the tensely blanketed room outside of the infirmary.

The door opened with the knowing creak of old, heavy metal.  The pitter patter of little steps on the dark floor seemed to snap Neuvillette out of the little stance he was in with Furina.   He surged towards the door like a bullet, almost tripping over himself and almost knocking Siegewinne over in his haste.  

He couldn’t quite remember what all happened in the intermission.  Things like fumbling over questions, getting answers he couldn’t remember anymore were plucked out of his mind like the petals of a dying flower.  

Yes, your condition was stable.  

No, you could not consume solid food seeing as you’d just taken your medication.  (Much to Furina’s dismay, she had brought some of your favorite pastries. ) 

No, you would not be taken off of bedrest anytime soon. 

But yes, despite it all, you were in proper condition to accept visitors.  

He didn’t know what he was expecting to see beyond the closed metal door, but it wasn’t what he actually ended up seeing.  This wasn’t how he remembered you.  But it also was too close of a resemblance to assert that you were someone else or even an imposter wearing your skin. 

‘Such dull eyes, such pale skin…’

He toyed with the cuff of his sleeve.  Unconsciously, he found himself gritting his teeth, standing in the open doorway while he waited for you to acknowledge him.  He was reluctant to disturb the tranquil stillness that settled over your room.  He was afraid that if he moved or spoke, something would happen.  Something would crack and the illusion of your return would shatter and scatter into a million pieces on the floor.  

But the way your eyes lit up in recognition, the strained smile set on your face,  it was starting to sink in that you really weren’t gone forever.  You were right there, you were breathing, and you were alive against all odds.  “Neuvillette? Is that really you?”  Sweetly, the skin at the corners of your eyes crinkled, “You really made the trip to the Fortress just to visit me?” 

He could feel himself getting choked up at the sound of your voice, as rasped and painful as it sounded.  No matter how grating it would’ve been to anyone else, it was as soothing and melodic as a chorus of angels.  Even as he swallowed the spit clogging his airway, he still struggled to speak,  “Of course I did.”

“...”

“...Did you think I wouldn’t?” 

“...”

“...”

Carefully, he tugged the heavy door closed behind him.  He sat in the rather uncomfortable folding chair positioned at the side of your cot, nails digging little smiles into his palm even through his gloves.   What was once comfortable silence thickened and lay over your heads like a thick fog.  

Eventually, the sharp-edge of your voice cut through the mistlike tension like a blade, “Neuvillette, I have a question.” 

“What’s wrong?” Immediately, it felt like he was on the defensive.  The Iudex could not ascertain why, but the hairs on the back of his neck stood anxiously. 

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong,” you reassured, weakly clearing your throat, “I’m just curious about something.” 

Your words did little to quell his worries, but still, he nodded his head as if they did.  “What is it?”

Your limp arms rose from the bed, fingers weakly and clumsily fidgeting with one another.  “...Did you wait for me?” 

“Hm, I suppose I did.” 

It seemed his answer only caused your thumbs to twiddle more aggressively where they lay, “Well… Why?”

He went to answer, but like they seemed to be doing more and more today, they caught in his throat on the way out.  

Why had he waited? 

Had he meant to wait? 

Or was that just a product of his incessant work schedule?

He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, just barely nipping at the skin with elongated fangs.  Ultimately, he settled for answering as truthfully as he possibly could, “...I didn’t see any reason to seek anyone else.” 

Your thumbs stopped fidgeting, fingers interlocking, “What do you mean?  Did  you not fear being alone?” 

He tilted his head to the side, “Did you ever fear being alone?” 

“...”

His body posture seemed to relax, “I had enough when I was with you, there was never any longing for something I felt I could not have again.”  

“That is…” You trailed off.  It seemed the words were lost in translation as you went to finish your thought.  The same tense silence settled between the two of you once more. 

“...”

“...”

“You… aren’t upset with me?”

The Iudex looked at you as if you’d grown a second head.  “What in the world could I be upset over?”

You averted eye contact, “I lied to you.  I told you I would not survive and then I turn up again as sick as a dog without much to show for it.” 

Neuvillette frowned himself, “You aren’t giving yourself enough credit.  You and Lady Furina managed to fool the Heavenly Principles and save the entirety of Fontaine, is that not something to be proud of?  Do you value your sacrifice so little?” 

“Of course I value my sacrifice!”  You countered, indignant.  Still, your voice lowered to little more than a murmur as you managed to spit out, “I’m afraid I just seem to value you more than that entirely.” 

His eyes, always imperceptibly sharp, seemed to soften just a little bit. 

“You might not realize, but while time seemed to pass here and things changed, giving up my physical body to maintain the seal on the Primordial Sea meant I was stuck without any senses.  It was such an incredibly lonely existence,”  Your eyes trained on your lap, “I did not expect to survive, and I was sure that even if I did survive, it wouldn’t be for long.  To be able to sit here even a month later is more than I allowed myself to hope for.”

“...”

“...So why is it that I feel that was a lie?”  Why is it that I hoped you would wait for me and I would be able to see you again?” Your expression dropped even further, “Why is it that I am still hoping you hold some kind of affection for me, even if I know it would be entirely foolish to love a man you expected to never see again?” 

“...”

“...”

Tentatively, his hand reached out to rest on top of your interlocked hands.  

You looked up to meet his gaze. 

“...If I still did?” 

You laughed, as forced as it sounded, “I would call you a fool.  A fool who is in love with a man that will likely take eons to recover, and even if I did manage to recover, I would only manage to remain a hollow shell of who I was.” 

His lips pulled into a tight line,  “I think you are the fool for once.”

You frowned. 

“You provide me with a feeling of wholeness that I have the inability to find with anyone else.  Whether you are the same as you used to be or weaker, bedbound, whatever you wish to call yourself, I will never be able to find that feeling with another.”  He squeezed your hands in his,  “You are indispensable, so fret not.  No matter how long you take to recover, I shall stay by your side every step of the way.”

there's a note attached to the side of the phone booth, read it?

" writers block tried to get me but it didn't work 💯💯💯 "

This is the longest its ever taken me to update I start banging my head against the wall

Constantly conflicted about writing and then feeling sad about not writing and suddenly, oh shit college !

I will say that once I fall into a rhythm updates will definitely become regular again but probably not as quick as they used to be. I fear I am no longer the man that can black out and publish 7.5k words of smut and or gay hurt/comfort every other day.

Aside from that I am good and well!!! Expect some more content from me in less than a month from now

I was considering doing a 200 follower special, but I fear that has been pushed off the table in favor of focusing on the long-form book I've been brewing up and planning.

Of course, I'll still be writing the requests I have in the queue, but the updates will probably be staggered with updates for the long form book

thank you, god bless 💯💯

- love, operator t-19

[writingjourney]

a message from the bulletin board | cardinal copia x gn!reader

summary: the ministry’s bulletin board, ordinarily used for missing items or party announcements, contains a particularly interesting request this week – a lonely hearts ad.

content: 9k words, gn!reader, slightly suggestive at times, first date/first kiss shenanigans, sad lonely awkward cardinal fluff, you know the drill

Masterlist – Ao3 link

You ignore the knot of people in front of the bulletin board.

As much as the whispers and giggles garner your attention, someone else attracts it even more. Cardinal Copia, red cassock, red biretta, arms filled with two boxes worth of files and papers, is trying to push the door to his office open with his hip under a swell of Italian curses. Certainly, his hip swing is impressive on most days, especially on stage, but today it seems more like a helpless, uncoordinated bumping that the door is fighting with every ounce of its wooden strength.

Evidently, he’s struggling.

“Good morning, Cardinal, do you need a hand?”

His eyebrows shoot up when he hears your voice and he stops dead in his tracks, slowly turning his head until he catches you standing right behind him. Despite your announcement, he visibly startles, nearly dropping the boxes in his arms.

“Oh, eh… yes, if you could open the door for me, Sibling?”

“Of course.”

With your hand on the knob, you watch as he hurries inside of his office, wheezing under the weight and dropping the boxes onto his desk with a dull thud that echoes loudly in his mostly bare working space. Apart from books upon books strewn across and around his desk as well as an old weathered couch, there hasn’t been any love put into decorating the space. You wait patiently for him to turn back around to you, a hint of red dusting his cheeks when he finally does.

“Thank you,” he squeezes out, trying very hard to swallow his heavy exhales. “I carried them here all the way from the archives. Long way, you know, even for my…” He holds up his arm, flexing it exaggeratedly. “My strong, powerful muscles.”

You giggle and he perks up in delight, eyes wide and shiny. “No problem, Cardinal, I can imagine they’re very heavy.” 

You smile at him and he smiles back, so sweetly, and you’re momentarily at an equal loss for words. A bead of sweat rolls down his forehead, down the prominent bridge of his nose. He brushes it away with a leather-gloved hand and you can’t help but stare as he wipes it clean on the heavy fabric of his vestments, shaking out his fingers once he’s done. You can’t look away as they flex and release, flex and release. They’re surprisingly long and so… nimble.

Copia’s violent cough startles you awake and you’re not sure if it’s his own nerves that make him clear his throat, if his overexerted lungs are protesting or if he caught you staring. Either way, you feel your own cheeks getting hot now, the moment of hesitant silence slowly transitioning into a gooey sort of awkwardness.

“So, ugh… I better get back to my own duties,” you say. “Lots to do, spring cleaning and all that.”

He nods. “Yes, yes, you are busy, of course. Such a busy little bee. Bzz bzz. Hehe.”

You awkwardly giggle back, trying hard to think of a clever joke. Maybe something that has to do with stinging? But before you can settle on one, the time for a witty come-back has stretched thin and so you just awkwardly wave at him, mutter a “see you later” and close the door.

With your back pressed to the wood, you let out a deep exhale, the butterflies – or bees – in your stomach making it very hard to breathe at a normal pace. Once you’ve recollected your wits, you notice that the hallway is still as busy as before, maybe even busier.

Like lions gathering around an animal carcass after days of starvation, what feels like half the abbey has been flocking to the big rectangular corkboard. You cannot possibly imagine what would warrant such intense interest. The most exciting messages on any given day are unusual sex requests, the invitation to a weirdly themed party or a call for applications to a particularly intricate sex ritual to honour the Dark One.

You push through the crowd to check what’s causing the repeated giggling and excited whispers amongst your peers when you spot a pristine piece of paper on the board. It’s thick, stark-white, shaped like a heart at the top and with pieces to rip off at the bottom that contain a phone number. You squint, move in even closer until you can make out the text – hand-written and in cursive.

I (m, 50) am looking for a partner to spend the rest of my life with. I don’t have any preferences but it would be coolio if we had similar interests, so we can have some fun together.

I like: watching movies, playing video games, going on walks, rigatoni, juice, small animals

I don’t like: coconut flavour, being barefoot, swimming, touching wet dishes, bullies, dentist appointments

If you think we are a good match I would like to take you on a romantic date. Please call or text me.  Bye bye!

You smile at the note but quickly find back down to earth when someone rams their elbow into your side. No one has taken one of the numbers yet, so you assume the excitement is more about the fact that there is a lonely hearts ad on the bulletin board at all than any actual interest in the person. You have to admit, it is a bit odd. Most younger clergy members just use dating apps these days or social media. But the lonely heart in question is fifty, so they may not be familiar with modern methods, and it’s oddly endearing that anyone would go through the trouble of creating such an ad. At the same time, it breaks your heart that someone in the abbey is so lonely that they risk the ridicule of half of the clergy members just to have a chance at finding love.

“Well, there are a bunch of people who it could be,” you overhear someone say. “Maybe one of the older Brothers, a bunch of them are single. Could also be that new bishop who just arrived, I heard he’s a cinephile and walks around the gardens quite often.”

You ignore the whispers of speculation, making your way back through the crowd to return to your duties. It’s almost dinner time by now and you need to get two more loads of laundry done before then. But even as you sort through piles of habits, cassocks and veils… you can’t stop thinking about the ad. You sincerely hope the person receives a few serious and not just prank calls. The note did sound endearing and you definitely see similarities. At the same time you’re far too busy nursing your hopeless crush on the Cardinal to actually entertain the thought of dating someone else. 

You decide to check on the ad again tomorrow, see if anyone took a number, and if not, you could at least save it to your phone… just in case.

✦ ✧ ✦ 

Two birds land on his window sill, rubbing their beaks together in a kiss before happily chirping at each other. They’re in love, literal love birds, building a nest on the little protrusion in the wall right below his window. He’s been watching them occasionally, unreasonably envious, as they bring in twig after twig, ready to start their family. From the same window, Copia can make out the spring-filled gardens with their colourful patches of pink and red tulips, bumblebees hurrying from blossom to blossom, drunk on pollen and greedy for more. He can overlook the bright green meadow leading down to the pond, speckled with lush, budding trees. At this time of the day, after everyone finished their daily duties, the grass has almost completely disappeared under a plethora of picnic blankets.

Spring fever, he assumes, has to be the reason why everyone seems to be in love. Couples dozing in each other’s arms in the shade of the trees, feeding their lovers berries or grapes, taking a stroll down to the pond with their joined hands dangling between them, kissing without pause in the archways of the cool stone walkways leading outside. Just now he spots two Sisters rubbing sunscreen on each other’s bare shoulders, one of them kissing the other's head before they fall back onto their blanket, giggling happily at each other.

He feels so incredibly lonely.

This has been going on for weeks now and he’s tired of feeling so shamefully worthless of affection. Instead of the arms of his lover, he sinks into his tattered old desk chair and drowns his sorrows in boring paperwork. Not that that’s going well, but for lack of alternatives, he’d rather do budget calculations than sit in his quarters all alone. Every evening, the spring breeze carries the sound of happy laughter through his windows, usually while he’s playing video games all by himself, but he can’t keep them closed if he doesn’t want to sweat to death. Besides… that same gentle breeze is the only thing caressing his skin as he tries to fall asleep at night and if he closes his eyes, the wind almost feels like fingertips ghosting over his arms.

As he leaves his office that night, he receives another heavy but sadly much expected blow. Almost a week now and still no one has taken one of the numbers from his lonely hearts ad. Of course it doesn’t mean no one saved it to his phone, he tells himself, people are shy or they just don’t want to date an anonymous person. It has nothing to do with him, they don’t even know it’s him. And yet… if his dating streak continues so poorly, he’s not sure if he can stay sane for much longer. There are only so many tears you can cry in bed at night before it starts to take a toll on you.

His heart is especially heavy as he makes his way to his lonely quarters. One more day and then he’s taking it down, he decides. No use in waiting any longer now that surely everyone in the abbey has seen his request and the last thing he wants are pity calls.

✦ ✧ ✦ 

“So, are you going to call the Cardinal?”

You look up from your breakfast plate. Your friend Lily is sitting opposite of you, chewing on a blueberry muffin, and you narrow your eyes at her. “The Cardinal?”

“The number in the lonely hearts ad,” she says. “It’s still there, I checked earlier.”

“It’s the Cardinal?”

She nods, popping another piece of muffin into her mouth. “Duh.”

You feel your cheeks heating up and set your fork down to hide the sudden tremor in your fingers. “Which Cardinal?”

She gives a soft groan of annoyance. “Babe, there is only one of the Cardinals who would ever hang up such a goofy thing. Now, will you call him?”

Copia. She knows about your… slight infatuation with him. And despite being kind and not teasing you too much, it was just a matter of time until the occasion popped up. If he is looking for a serious partner… maybe it’s too late for you soon. The ad has been up for days and while you’ve been toying with the idea of calling, you just haven’t found the courage yet.

You continue eating, trying to act casual, but it takes you three attempts to pick up a stray piece of cucumber from your plate. “How do you even know it’s his number?”

Lily takes a deep breath, setting the muffin down to ready herself. “Sooo, Michael wanted to call the number to check who it is, right? Well, turns out his girlfriend already knew it’s the Cardinal’s number and his girlfriend is Sister Jill who knows it from Sister Mary who is roommates with Sibling Jessie who works with the treasury and their colleague Brother Paul works as the Cardinal’s assistant two times a week and that’s how he has the Cardinal’s number for emergencies.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh. Now, will you?”

Eyes on your empty plate, you bite your lip until you can taste blood. It’s Copia’s number, the number of your crush of about six months now, and he’s looking for a partner, unspecified. That’s… big news, intimidating news, news that calls to an action you’re not sure you’re prepared for.

Glancing at Lily, you catch her smirking at you and promptly give her a scowl. “I don’t know. What if he already got better options?”

She cocks her head to the side. “Better than you? I doubt it.”

“You’re biased because you’re my friend.”

A shrug. “You should try. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“He could be disappointed.”

“He’s more disappointed if no one calls,” she counters.

“Yeah but–”

You stop yourself when you see Nora, Lily’s girlfriend, approaching the table. Her arms wrap around Lily from behind as she presses a loud, lingering kiss to her cheek, both of them giggling.

“You scared me,” Lily says, turning around for a proper kiss.

“Sorry, love, but I can’t leave breakfast without my sweet treat.”

You avert your gaze, involuntarily feeling like an intruder. They’ve been together for a few weeks now, sickeningly adorable. Lily had been pining after Nora for months, a little bit like you with the Cardinal, only that she eventually found the courage to ask her out. To see her bravery being rewarded like that makes you incredibly happy for both of them. But at the same time… you have rarely ever felt your loneliness so sharply, the heaviness of your unreciprocated crush such a weight on your shoulders.

You know that if you want this to be you and the Cardinal, then there’s only one real answer to her question: You have to reach out to him.

✦ ✧ ✦ 

He’s ready to toss this day into the trash bin already and he only just got up. 

Last night, after tossing and turning for hours, Copia fell asleep only to promptly land in a hysterically embarrassing dream that made him jolt up whimpering like a kicked dog and hiding his face in the pillow. Bringing himself close to suffocation, he finally realised that he had not actually stumbled right in front of you, spilling juice all over his robes, scrambling to get up only to slip in the puddle by his feet, falling onto his butt with a high-pitched cry. You had been standing there motionless, watching the spectacle unfold until you turned around to leave.

This is the reaction he would expect, should he ever actually find the courage to ask you out. However, this is highly doubtful, because upon walking to his office half an hour later, he catches you with a group of friends. He often sees you with them – attractive young Siblings, evident chemistry between all of you, and every week he suspects a different one to be in love with you. He recognizes the two Sisters he saw from his window earlier this week. One of them presses a loving kiss to the other’s cheek and he wishes he could just walk up to you and do the same.

His heart hurts. No matter how much kindness you extend to him, you’re a beautiful young soul who could never be romantically interested in an aging loner. Copia is not disliked per se, he gets along with pretty much everyone, but he struggles to build meaningful connections. Between working his butt off to satisfy the clergy and spending time on his mostly solitary hobbies, it’s hard to meet people. He had to actively put himself out there but neither online dating nor any of the singles’ events Terzo sent him on brought any results – only what the young Siblings call getting “ghosted” or “benched”.

His ad is his last chance. And even that failed miserably.

As he ponders his options, your eyes suddenly meet his and he swears you’re smiling. Then you lift your hand in a cautious wave. For a second, he’s too scared to wave back because there are people around him, all of which could be your target. Your hand sinks after a moment as your smile slowly straightens and he suddenly knows that you do mean him. He lifts his hand far too excitedly in a reciprocative wave. Your smile returns, a shy one, but before he can even think about possibly approaching you, his knees suddenly give out.

No, they don’t give out, someone rams a trolly filled with supplies for Black Mass into him. Some of the tall candles roll off the top and clatter to the floor, breaking in half just like his dignity. 

“Oops, sorry, Cardinal,” the Sibling says, scrambling to help him up. “It’s so hard to steer this thing.”

“It’s fine,” he chokes out, the pain in his knees anything but fine. “It happens.”

“I’m truly so sorry.”

He smiles, a hand on their shoulder now that he’s on his feet again. “It is okay, eh? No worries.”

When his eyes try to find you again, you’re not there anymore and he can’t decide if he’s relieved or sad. He prays to Satan that you didn’t see him fall but there is no way you missed it. His dream, if slightly watered-down, did come true after all and perhaps now you won’t want to–

“Cardinal, are you alright?” 

Copia, still dizzy and skittish, spins around so hard he nearly stumbles again. He smooths out his now crumpled cassock, the dust he collected on the floor even more visible on today’s black vestments. In an attempt to retain his dignity, he straightens his spine and looks right into your beautiful eyes. You have a tendency to startle him like that and he wishes he could be more smooth about these encounters.

“Yes, yes, Sibling, thank you. It was… it was nothing, just a little stumble, eh?”

“Are you sure?” You inspect him from head to toe, your brow creased in concern. “It looked painful. Your knees…”

“Oh, my knees are fine!” he lies. “I kneel all the time, Sibling. You know this.” Your eyes widen and he continues to stammer. “I mean in prayer. I pray a lot. On my knees. I am a Cardinal, yes? It’s my job.”

 You nod heavily. “Yes, of course.”

“So, ugh… I better just fuck off.” He presses his lips together to keep more silly words from coming out. “I mean I’ll go back to work. ”

As he tries to leave, your hand shoots up, squeezing the muscles in his forearm. He’s not as much startled as enthralled by your touch, so unexpected that he has no time to feel insecure but so welcome that it almost feels natural to have your fingers on his arm. He swears there is a hint of nervousness in your eyes now and despite knowing it’s silly, his heart wants to interpret it as bashfulness.

“Cardinal, please. I… ugh…” 

You look beautiful from up close. Even if you weren’t stuttering he’d have a hard time listening to your words. It seems like you stopped breathing, your cheeks now a sweet shade of rosy, and you open your mouth to speak but no words come out. Eventually, you shake your head and run your fingers over the fabric of his sleeve. He thinks he’s about to pass out, his nerves rising until he can feel his heartbeat all the way up to his neck. Your hand is so gentle, so… affectionate.

“I’m sorry, Cardinal. I don’t mean to keep you. I was just thinking that I really like the black cassock. It suits you.”

A compliment. His mind is racing. This is not what you really wanted to say, he can tell, but he grins anyway. You like his cassock? Well, you should wait until you see him in a suit. Maybe on a date. He should ask, he realises. This is the moment he’s been waiting for for months now. But as he continues to stare at you his tongue becomes too heavy to form the words, and then your hand is suddenly gone and takes his courage right with it.

“Thank you, Sibling,” he says instead. “I also really like your ugh… your outfit.”

Only when the words leave his mouth does he realise it’s the same everyday habit you’re wearing all the time. Somehow, the silly compliment still manages to conjure a smile onto your face and so he stops berating himself because he made you smile. The sight stuns him, butterflies erupting in his already nervous stomach.

“I’ll see you later, Cardinal,” you say then, your eyes leaving his to glance down the hallway where your friends are waiting, beckoning for you to hurry.

Copia nods and he looks down at your hand in silent fascination, staring at your fingers that are dangling by your thigh without any use as if he could magically make them touch his arm again. “Yes, yes. See you,” he mumbles. “Bye bye.”

When he looks back up, you’re already hurrying off. Copia stays frozen, his gaze trailing after you as though his eyes are glued to your form. Even when you’re out of sight it takes him a while to start moving, to start breathing again.

Around him, the hallway slowly empties as everyone starts to tend to their respective duties. Copia can’t help but feel the nagging disappointment about not asking you out. A chance like this won’t suddenly appear again and even if you refused him it would still be less humiliating than the untouched ad at the bulletin board. He should take it off right now, he figures.

Only when he enters the hallway leading to his office, something looks off about the postings. He notices the change from the corner of his eye at first as he walks past the large corkboard. More party flyers have appeared, someone took down the “diamond butt plug set missing” request that had been hanging there since an orgy in the Siblings’ wing went wrong last month. Instead, Copia notices a large poster promoting condom usage that partly covers the request underneath. Which is how he recognises it.

His ad. 

And one of the numbers is missing.

Copia nearly lets out a loud squeal as realisation dawns on him like the gentle spring sun rising over the hills every morning, bringing warmth and happiness after a cold, dark night. It seems like Cupid finally answered his prayers, like Aphrodite found sweet mercy for him.

Someone took his number. Someone wants to reach out to him.

For the rest of the day, he feels like he swallowed a swarm of bees, staring at his phone like it’s going to light up any second. Which it could. He could receive the message or call that changes his life any second now. Any second. Any… any second.

Nothing happens. Not in the next hour, not in the next two hours. All day, in fact, his phone stays quiet. His initial happiness deflates like a balloon. As he heads towards his quarters that evening, he observes how everyone piles into the dining hall, their happy laughter and cheerful spirits spoiling his usually solid appetite. He hates the sour feeling of envy in his stomach but he can’t help but suspect that everyone conspired against him.

Copia decides to skip dinner in order to cry into a big bowl of gelato. His nightmare might not have come true but his brain tortures him with pictures of your smiling face instead, with the phantom feeling of your warm hand lingering on his arm, and he can’t help but feel crushed anyway. He’d sell his soul to come home to you, to eat with you, sit with you, watch silly movies with you, fall asleep with you in his arms and wake up with your smile as the first thing he gets to see every day. It becomes increasingly clear to him that every day he misses out on being with you is a day tragically lost.

If only he was brave enough to change that.

✦ ✧ ✦ 

You’ve been pacing your bedroom for the better part of the evening now, back and forth and back and forth to the point where you’re seriously concerned about wearing down your carpet. The day passed uneventfully apart from your encounter with Copia in the hallway where you made a complete fool of yourself. You would have loved to skip all of the unnecessary fuss of texting back and forth but you barely spoke more than two words to him before you chickened out. Surely, if his interest in you was romantic, he could just ask you out instead of advertising himself on a public corkboard?

In any case, you’ve been typing out messages for over an hour now, deleting every single one of them only to throw your phone onto the bed multiple times before picking it back up to risk another attempt.

The reason you haven’t given up yet is that Lily knows you have his number now. Last night, when you thought everyone was asleep, you snuck out of your dorm feeling like James Bond with your torch and black clothing, tiptoeing down the empty corridors of the abbey. You didn’t want anyone spreading any premature rumors but a part of you was hesitant to take one of the numbers at all. Even if you called him, it wasn’t certain that he’d want to go on a date with you.

Still, you ripped off one of the thumb-sized pieces of paper and headed back – only to promptly run into Lily as she snuck out to meet Nora. You’re never going to forget her self-satisfied grin as she spotted you with the crumpled number between your fingers.

Begging your creative juices to start flowing, you stare at the empty message box. Perhaps you should be funny. You wonder if he knows the Piña Colada song. It is about a lonely hearts ad after all and he’s a musician. You type and type, delete and retype until you end on a rough draft to show Lily when she gets home. But no, upon rethinking, the joke is too silly even for you and there’s probably a better way to phrase this–

“Hey, have you called him yet?”

You jump, your heart rate doubling in shock. Lily appears in the open doorway and her voice startles you so fiercely that you clutch your phone to your chest. To your utter horror, the swishing sound of a sent message reaches your ear as your palm connects with the touchscreen, and when you glance down, the bubble with your typed out message sits at the top of your chat history.

“Oh no,” you whisper.

“What?”

“I sent my stupid silly joke message to him.”

Lily picks your phone from your hands, reading the solitary message from the display. “Well, at least now you’ll know if he shares your weird sense of humour?”

You grasp her shoulder and release a deep, throaty groan. Her words don’t calm you in the slightest, if anything, they only make it worse.

✦ ✧ ✦ 

Driving Miss Daisy can’t distract him anymore.

Every two minutes Copia reaches for his phone to check for any missed texts or calls only to have the gapingly empty home screen staring back at him. He never figured out how to change the pre-set wallpaper. Perhaps he could try again when he has a cute couple picture of him and his future partner. The thought makes him smile. It’s one of many little things he would change – if they only called.

Despite putting it on vibrate, he doesn’t trust the device to inform him of any news. He even carried it to the toilet twice already, just in case something happens while he’s gone. His ice cream doesn’t satisfy him tonight, everything feels bland and devoid of flavour, but he refills his bowl anyway. One big spoon and a bit of spray cream… and as he walks back over to his bed, he realises that he should definitely check his phone again because this took way longer than two minutes.

Right as he pulls the device out his pocket, it vibrates violently in his hand. For a moment he is so shocked to see a message pop up that he throws it away. It lands on his bed, bouncing a few times, display still lit up with one new notification glaring at him from the centre of his screen.

He takes a deep breath. This is real. He got a message.

No, he can’t look at it, he’s going to lose his nerves. A few more deep inhales and slow exhales, then he can’t fight the suspension any longer. 

Hey, stranger :) You don’t like coconut, so you probably don’t like Piña Coladas, but maybe I’m still the love that you look for?  I would love to go on a date with you, if you are still looking for one. 

It takes him a second, then another one. The ice cream melts in his bowl as it sits forgotten on the floor next to his bed. Suddenly it clicks and he chuckles, in relief as well as amusement, thinking that he knows that song, that he gets the reference. That means this person is funny. They made a joke. He smiles to himself. A funny person wants to go on a date with him.

He types back, deleting, typing again. After five minutes, he comes up with a reply.

Hello, stranger! 👋🏼 I do not like Piña Coladas 🍹 but I have many better things to offer if you want to go on a picnic 🧺 with me tomorrow? I will bring food 🥪 and drinks 🧃 of course. Hopefully we do not get caught in the rain 💦😀

He thinks about how he could sign the message but then his nerves start to kick in. If he tells the person who he is, they may reconsider their choice to go out with him and that’s the last thing he wants. Even if the date doesn’t go well, he wants to try his best, so he shoots another message after the first: 

Oh. It will be a blind date, if that is okay with you?

The next minute is the longest of his life. An eternity passes. He thinks he might have stopped breathing with how tight his chest feels. That is, until his phone lights up and shows the same number again, wringing a deep sigh of relief from him.

That’s fine with me. Where do we meet?

The squeal he lets out vibrates in his chest and bounces off the walls.

He’s got a date. Finally.

✦ ✧ ✦ 

Copia hears his bad conscience somewhere in the back of his mind whispering that blocking the best spot in the gardens all day is selfish. Perhaps it is true, perhaps he feels a little selfish today. And yes, besides feeling selfish he also feels a little guilty. Is it fair to go on a date when he has such a horrible crush on someone else? No. No, it’s not fair. But he can’t let another chance at love run through his fingers like sand on the beach. He simply has to grasp this opportunity.

His red-checked blanket lays untouched underneath the tall chestnut tree, its big, hand-shaped leaves rustling in the soft breeze as he approaches. The head of a rat is stitched into all four corners  of the fabric – a gift from Sister for his latest birthday – and it’s been sitting here since nine o’clock when he took the liberty of… reserving… the spot. He picked the north-side of the tree so that the shade falls exactly where he’s going to be sitting with his date in approximately fifteen minutes. If they prefer the sun, he can just pull the blanket over a little, but he’d never forgive himself if they got sunburn because of him.

Copia took the day off, his first day off all year in fact, risking his next employee of the month award to spend all morning in town, running errands. With the end of May and strawberry season starting, he visited every grocery store within walking distance to find the ripest, juiciest ones they offered. He was lucky enough to obtain a small basket filled with the most delicious-looking red fruits and some additional fresh ingredients for his sandwiches. While he was quick-witted enough to ask about his date’s allergies yesterday, he completely forgot to ask them about their favorite snacks and so he’s decided to just bring anything he could think of that wouldn’t melt in the sun.

The basket he packed feels heavy in his hand for that exact reason and when he sets it down on the blanket, he can feel the strain in his arm. The past hour was spent obsessing over his outfit until he decided to just go for the white suit combo. Yes, white fabric near grass and juicy red fruits is not the most brilliant idea, but he wants to look his best and that means going the extra mile, even if he has to wear the tiny, itchy underwear underneath.

His heartbeat is going a mile a minute now. He can’t unpack yet, he doesn’t want the food to be out for too long, and so he sits and waits, his hands sweaty under his black and white leather gloves. The fact that the gardens around him slowly become crowded as the afternoon rolls around does nothing for his nerves. He can feel the curious glances, can hear the hushed whispers, and as the hour nears, he starts sweating even more despite the shade. If the unanswered ad had been embarrassing, being stood up so publicly would be even worse. 

And then the most horrifying thing ever happens.

Copia sees you walking along the path, wearing a weather-appropriate, slightly dressed-up outfit that makes his eyes involuntarily roam your whole form. But he can’t fully focus on your loveliness. At first, he’s panicking that you’re meeting your friends somewhere close by where you could see him with his date. He would be so embarrassed, so distracted, so uncomfortable. But you walk straight towards him and that’s even worse. If he has to tell you that he’s busy meeting someone else he might spontaneously combust, explode into tiny particles of humiliation. It would ruin everything, his date and his crush on you. What if his date shows up and sees you with him? What if–

Oh no, you don’t stop approaching, you don’t take a turn, you walk up straight to where he’s waiting – with a hint of hesitation, yes, but very directed steps. Copia jumps up immediately, his black hat nearly falling from his head.

“Oh, Sibling,” he stammers, lifting a trembling hand to adjust his fedora. “Hello, hi. Are you spending some time outside today as well?”

Your mouth opens and you wring your hands before hiding them behind your back. “Hello, Cardinal. I ugh… I’m supposed to meet someone here under the chestnut tree.”

Copia furrows his brow, slowly registering your words. “Meet someone. Under the chestnut tree.” 

“Yes.”

“Oh, Satan. It’s you?” He stops, stares, comprehends. He sounds incredulous, his voice a higher pitch than usual. “You’re my stranger?”

You nod, big eyes staring into his mismatched ones in silent expectation, hope and fear muddled together in the crease of your brow. He doesn’t know how to react, just rubs his thumb and index finger together as his mind races faster than speed limit.

“Is this… is this bad?” you finally ask, breaking the awkward silence.

“No!” Copia exclaims. “No, no, no. Please, please sit.”

You do, kneeling down on the blanket a little hesitantly. Copia joins you, still not fully trusting his senses. This feels like a hallucination. His disbelief has to be the only reason he hasn’t passed out yet. Is he really on a date with you right now?

After another moment of silence, Copia notices you eyeing the basket and snaps back into reality. His plans, his very detailed plans for how this date is supposed to go, flood his mind and he remembers the first step now. Swallowing his shock, he sits up a little straighter.

“Ah, eh… yes, I got you something.” He reaches behind the basket and procures three deep red roses he stole from Primo’s rose garden on the way here. Their intense smell hits his nose as he whips them past his face and hands them over. “These are for you. I hope you like roses. I know it is a bit cliché but also a classic, no?”

“I love them,” you assure him, holding them up to your nose with a smile. “Thank you, they’re beautiful.”

He smiles. “Good, good. Yes. So… I thought about what we could do and–”

“Cardinal,” you interrupt then. 

“Oh, no. No, call me Copia. Please.” He gives you a shaky smile. “We’re on a date, no?”

“Copia,” you try but feeling his name on your tongue doesn’t make you feel any better. Ever since getting here your bad conscience made it hard to fully settle into this date and with his visible distress upon discovering it’s you, you feel like now is the time to address it. “Before… before we do this, I have a confession to make…” 

He hums and wriggles his eyebrows. “Oh, really? Well, I would love to see you in confession soon…”

You blush furiously. “Oh, no. No, that’s not what I meant.”

A flash of concern and you can practically see all of his insecurities mirrored in his eyes. You’re both tiptoeing around the same question, you assume, but it’s on you to take the plunge.

“What… what do you mean then?” he asks.

“About this date…” His lightheartedness completely disappears. You feel bad for ruining the mood but it’s too late now and you need to get it out, you owe him that much. “Copia… It wasn’t a blind date on my part. I… I knew it was you.”

“You knew it was me?” he asks and again his features change, eyes wide now. He really had no idea that people knew the ad was his and suddenly he feels like a fool.

“I’m so sorry, I should have been honest from the start.” You stare at his gloved hand but you’re too scared to take it. “I hope you can forgive me for keeping this from you.”

“You knew it was me and you still… you still wrote to me? You still came?”

You furrow your brow. “I didn’t tell you because then I would have had to admit that it’s me and I was scared that maybe you wouldn’t want to go anymore.”

“Me? Not… not…” He shakes his head so fast that his fedora once again threatens to fly off. “Oh, tesoro, I would have… I would have been on the moon with joy, as they say. Yes, yes, I would have.”

You don’t correct him. Instead, an insecure smile settles on your face. “You know you don’t have to say that, Copia, it’s okay if you were hoping for someone else… That’s the risk of going on a blind date, right?”

He yanks your hand out of your lap, wrapping it up in both of his gloved ones. “Tesoro, can I be very honest with you?”

You nod. “Of course you can. Always.”

“I was hoping it was you.”

Your breath catches and steals your next words. The same incredulity that hit him earlier now settles in your chest and you can’t find it in you to question him.

Copia immediately fills the silence. “I never… I never thought…” You watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down, a nervous swallow, before he wets his lips. “Tesoro, you were always very good to me. I always saw your kindness, you understand this, yes? Don’t get me wrong, I just… I never thought you were interested in me like this. In such a silly old man.”

You have to giggle through your nerves. “I love that you’re a silly old man.”

He smiles shyly. “You are very sweet, tesoro.”

“I’ve actually had this crush for a few months now,” you admit, encouraged by his positive reaction. “And I want you to know that when I saw your ad I thought about calling even before I knew it was you.”

His smile grows impossibly bigger at that. “Did you?”

A nod. Copia squeezes your hand, then brings it to his face for a kiss. You feel his wet lips on your skin and they’re so soft, so gentle. When he sets your hand back down you see a trace of black lipstick on its back and instantly feel warm and fuzzy inside.

“Should we start then?” he asks. “I brought a lot of things, let me show you.”

The basket opens to reveal a plethora of food and drink options. Copia sets down a foil-wrapped plate with sandwiches that look a little wonky so you assume he made them himself, then some juice boxes, apple and orange, a box of fresh, delicious-looking strawberries, two bottles of water, reusable plastic cups and plates. At last, he hands you one of many different muffins he must have stolen from the kitchens.

“For my dolcezza,” he says with a smile.

More heat spreads in your cheeks as you take the little treat from him with a thanks. You’re both visibly losing your nervousness now, your postures less cramped, stretching out your limbs on the blanket with your bodies angled towards each other.

“Maybe we should… talk a bit about us?” Copia proposes. “To get to know each other, sì? I would like to learn about you.”

“Oh, yes, that sounds good. Do you want to start?”

He thinks on a good starter question, the pressure clouding his thoughts for a moment but then his silence grows thick and he has to say something. “So, ugh… do you like Star Wars?”

This is not one of the questions on his list of conversation starters. For some reason, every single meaningful thought suddenly leaves him. Luckily, this simple, safe question seems to put you at ease and you relax even more.

“I do,” you say. “I watched all the movies.”

“Oh, good! And what is your favorite?”

You pluck a piece from your muffin, popping it into your mouth. “Hmm… The Empire Strikes Back, I think.”

“Hehehe, sì, sì, I am your daddy.” His eyes widen. “Not that I’m… I don’t mean… you know, the scene with Luke… ugh. So, anyway, yes, that is my favorite as well.”

You giggle and he lights up, smiling so hard that his cheeks hurt. You reach for one of the sandwiches then. Copia helps, holding the plate up for you.

“So, these are all inspired by Italian foods. I have ugh… caprese. Mozzarella and tomato?”

You reach for the one he showed you. “That sounds great, thank you.”

Copia can’t help but stare as he awaits your reaction. You hum in delight and immediately take another bite of the soft bread. Satisfied, Copia allows himself to grab one as well now. Conversation slows down as you eat but you continue to talk about your interests between bites, finding more and more similarities as the minutes pass. 

Your little spot is beautiful, cool enough to sit comfortably but warm enough to feel the reviving effects of spring. The leaves above you rustle every now and then, birds and bees flying past, the odd ant crawling over your blanket in search of some crumbs. Neither one of you is bothered as you sip on your juice boxes in tandem and intuitively increase your proximity.

With your bodies gravitating towards each other like that, you end up sitting very close after a while. Copia reclines against the tree trunk, pulling his hat down to grant him more shade, a little bit like a cowboy leaning against the walls of a saloon. His white suit is an odd contrast to his relaxed pose, not the most comfortable outfit to lounge in. Without thinking too much about it, he pulls you close to him and angles you so you can rest your head in his lap. 

You’re only tense for a short moment. Copia gets rid of his gloves and you can feel his bare fingers running over your scalp. The steady pattern he draws calms you and you sigh, closing your eyes for a few minutes as a warm feeling of safety spreads out in you.

Copia can’t help but stare. Despite the initial hiccup, you’re so comfortable around each other that he feels like he’s known you forever. This is a dream come true for him, all his fantasies, his wishes, his longings, they all seem to come together in the lovely face dozing in his lap. You’re the most stunning sight he ever had the pleasure to behold. Every line, every hair, every mole, blemish or scar combines into the most beautifully painted canvas – and to him, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.

“Do you want a strawberry, tesorino?” he asks then.

You open your sparkly eyes and they reflect a speck of sunlight breaking through the canopy. Blinking a few times, you shift in his lap to avoid being blinded. He tenses as your cheek narrowly misses his groin, but then you nod and he distracts himself by reaching for the box of strawberries. 

With careful fingers, he grabs one of the shiny heart-shaped fruits, making sure to touch the stem to avoid any stains, and then guides it to your mouth. He can’t help but stare as he sees your lips part for him, the tip of your tongue peeking out to welcome the sweetness. You sink your teeth into the red flesh, so eager, and spatters of juice stain your lips. They appear even more saturated as you lick them clean, wetting them with your tongue, and he so desperately wants to kiss you.

“They’re so sweet already,” you say, taking the rest of the fruit from his hand.

“Yes, I agree.”

You giggle. “Copia, you haven’t even tried one yet.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean the strawberries.”

You huff out a flustered breath, fighting the still evident smile on your face, and hold the half-eaten strawberry up to his mouth. “Try.”

He lets you feed him with burning cheeks, keeping his eyes locked on yours. As his teeth meet the flesh, a few droplets of juice fall astray but he doesn’t even care if they ruin his suit anymore. He can’t stop looking at you, thinking about your soft hand so close to his mouth. He wants to kiss it again, desperately, and so he traps it with his when you try to pull away. With his lips pressed to your palm, he closes his eyes, kissing all the way down to your wrist where he lingers.

You gasp softly, lips parting as Copia continues to drag his lips over the delicate skin. Your reaction brings a smirk to his face, another moment that he’s going to think about for days to come.

“I tried, dolcezza,” he says. “And I think you’re still sweeter.”

You blush so prettily at that. Flustering you is easier than he expected and he takes notes of every little thing that draws a reaction from you. You spend another hour like this, eating fruit, drinking juice, chatting about all sorts of things while you exchange soft touches and words of your blossoming affection. At some point, the gentle breeze that carries on throughout the afternoon becomes stronger, and more and more people head back inside to escape a possible weather change.

Neither one of you wants to leave but as you start to shiver more violently, Copia’s worry about you catching a cold wins over his desire to prolong your date. He proposes to head inside as well, running his hands over the goosebumps on your bare arms to warm you up.

When you reluctantly agree, he starts to pile your dishes and the leftover food into the basket. You move to help but he stops you with a tut. “I will pack this up, eh? Don’t worry about it.”

“I could help you, you know.”

“Ah, no no. I invited you, yes? It is my pleasure.”

It only takes him a few minutes to pack everything up. You grab your flowers in the meantime and he watches from the corner of his eye as you sniff them with a growing smile on your face, swaying slightly from left to right. As Copia shakes out the blanket, folding it messily in the middle, you hesitate by the edge of your little picnic spot.

“So, do you want to walk back together?” you ask.

Copia smiles, glad that you don’t want to leave him quite yet. “I would like that a lot, tesoro. Should I carry the roses for you?”

You hand them over and he places them on the lid of the basket before he carefully picks it up. When he’s by your side again, you stop him with a hand on his forearm, the same gentle squeeze you gave him the last time. Only this time you don’t leave. Instead you lean in and press a soft kiss to his reddened cheek, your lips lingering for a few seconds longer than necessary. Copia opens his mouth but he can’t think of anything to say. Instead he uses his unoccupied hand to fish for yours.

Hand in hand, palm against palm, you walk past the leftover groups of Siblings that make use of the last few moments of sun. Neither of you spares anyone else even a glance. Whenever your eyes aren’t focused on the path ahead, they meet each other, giddy, love-sick smiles gracing your lips.

As you finally pass the first archway and enter the cool stone corridors of the abbey, Copia suddenly stops. Your arms slowly extend as you take a few more steps but before your hand can slip from his, he pulls you back. Maybe he used a little bit too much force or maybe he just caught you by surprise, but you practically stumble into his arms. A gasp falls from your lips. You make no attempt at breaking away and so Copia gently guides you against the frame of the archway, setting down the basket in the process so he can place his other hand on your hip.

Big eyes look up into his. He leans in slowly. The rim of his hat catches the stone and it finally slips from his head, dropping somewhere. Copia doesn’t care because he can already feel your sweet strawberry breath on his lips and nothing could stop him from getting a taste. Your hands impatiently grab at his lapels, then, pulling him even closer, and he gasps at the force of your need. With your eyes falling closed, lips slightly parted and your chin tilted up, Copia feels like he’s in a dream.

“Please,” you whisper.

He has to fight a moan, the word resonating somewhere deep inside his belly. Still, he draws out  the moment for as long as he can, stalling as the tension crackles in the tiny space that separates you. He starts by nuzzling your nose while he pushes his hand upwards until he can grasp your jaw. As he angles your head just right, he feels your lashes fluttering against his cheeks. He fights off a giggle as they continue to tickle his skin and you shift slightly against him, growing impatient.

“Co–”

His mouth swallows your next syllable. You hum against him as his lips capture yours with gentle adoration. The grip on your waist tightens at the same time as his thumb presses into your cheek. Want, need, trickles into your belly and Copia feels the same way, moving his mouth against yours with slightly more pressure. The kiss is still slow, still tame, but it’s unmistakable how much stowed up desire for the other you both hold inside.

For a while you continue like this, your body trapped between Copia and the cool stone and the world around you a mere shadow. You open your mouth for air and that’s when you can feel his tongue cautiously pushing against yours. The sensation makes you feel even more fuzzy, the need for oxygen forgotten as you tangle your tongue with his. The taste is sweet, residues of fruit and juice, and underneath it all you feel Copia. Copia.

You only break away when you’re both struggling to keep up the pace. He’s a mess, his lipstick gone, black smears covering his chin and cheeks where his eye make-up rubbed off. You lift your hand to wipe some of your mingled spit off of his chin and the blissful expression on his face makes you smile. You love to see his face ruined like this, you decide. And Copia, seeing the lipstick-smears all over your kiss-swollen mouth, unknowingly thinks the same.

“We should do this again sometime,” you say. “The date but also… this. Actually, I think we should do it again right now.”

Copia chuckles, resting his forehead against yours. “How about we never stop doing it?”

You nod your approval, wrapping your arms around him to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. It’s soft, if a little bit sweaty, messy from the loss of his hat. “I would like that a lot, Copia.”

“I mean it, tesoro,” he whispers with a hint of insecurity. “I don’t want to stop spending time with you. Ever. We already wasted enough of it.”

A big smile breaks out on your face. Copia can’t help but return it, squeezing you a little tighter to his body, and you giggle happily as he kisses your nose.

“You’re right,” you finally say. “Let’s not waste another moment.”

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this silly little story – kudos, comments, rbs etc are as always much appreciated ♡

Masterlist – My Ao3

[toomuchracket]

if you're too shy (office nerd!matty x reader fluff)

in which the other music journalist at the magazine you work at is the cutest weird boy you've ever met. enjoy <3

in hindsight, coming back from a two-week holiday the same day the magazine goes to print was a misguided idea.

your editor-in-chief tells you as much when you enter the office, pulling you into a half hug. “don't get me wrong, it's lovely to see you,” she says, scraping her hair back into a bun and securing it with a pencil. “but you'll be doing nothing all day, i'm afraid. maybe some last minute proofing, but i think everyone in nightlife and reviews has been alright. double-check with marianne.”

you do just that, weaving your way through people running copy and coffee between departments until you reach your own. it's mercifully quiet compared to everywhere else, the ten or so people dotted at desks around the sunlit room looking at their laptops and wearing headphones; you actually have to flick marianne on the back of the head to get her to notice you. “oi.”

“who the- oh, hi!” marianne's face softens when she sees it's you, and she stands to pull you into one of her infamously bone-crushing hugs before pulling back to get a good look. “well, you look annoyingly well-rested. but i suppose a fortnight in a spanish villa will do that to you. bitch.”

“i had a great time, thanks for asking,” you grin. “how’s everything been with you? stressful, without your star reporter?”

“well, for starters, you've been succeeded for that title.”

you frown only half-jokingly, scanning the room to try and guess which of your colleagues has replaced you as marianne's unofficial favourite. “who the fuck…?”

“language,” she lightly slaps your arm, in spite of the fact she was just about to say the same thing, then smiles suspiciously. “and i’m talking about our newest recruit.”

the brewing annoyance in your stomach dissipates immediately, replaced by a flock of tiny butterflies. “oh,” you try to keep your smile to a minimum. “that's okay. i like him.”

marianne sees right through you, though. she rolls her eyes. “oh, you would.”

“what?”

she sighs, motioning for you to lower your voice and modifying her own to a whisper. “he’s a curly-haired pretty-eyed vaguely scrawny white boy. you'd like him even if he didn't think the sun shone out of your arse.”

“marianne!” you hiss. “he does not!”

“don’t act all indignant, he has literally looked over at you once every thirty seconds since you walked in - and don't look, idiot, you'll freak him out. we need him on the ball, today of all days,” she rubs her eyes. “but yes, he’s very good at his job. i like him, even if i've no idea what in the world he goes off on his tangents about. great writer.”

“yeah, he is,” you risk a glance towards him, but all you can see is the back of his laptop - covered in stickers for things you can only name half of - and dark curls peeking out from the side of his headphones. “i like the references. different perspective from me, innit? that's why we hired him, after all.”

“who's we? you were too pissed off that i was hiring another music critic to agree to be part of the interviewing panel.”

you'd love to disagree, but you really were pissed when marianne and the other editors told you they were expanding the nightlife section. it didn't matter that it was in response to an increase in funding and readership, with the magazine switching to a print format as well as the online edition you'd contributed to since its creation - your fierce independence and pride meant you didn't take the news well, made you think it was an issue with your competence and writing ability that meant you'd be getting a new colleague. but once you were reassured that you'd still get to keep the Big Gigs and restaurant reviews to yourself, you were slightly more agreeable to the idea.

and once you actually met the new guy, stumbling over both his words and his own feet as he introduced himself, you couldn't quite remember why you'd been opposed in the first place.

“well,” you say, snapping back into reality. “thank goodness i'm over it now.”

“because you want to get under him?”

“no!” you stand indignantly, and then grin. “on top, maybe.”

“good grief,” your boss shakes her head. “don't you go bringing it up to him - excuse the pun - before this edition goes to the printers,” she points at you as you move to walk away. “or talking to him at all until then, actually, you hear me? i love you, but you're a distraction to him, and he's my best journo.”

“he's not, but alright,” you pat her head as you walk back towards the door. “i'll be in the staff room if you need me. and i won't talk to anyone, mum, i promise.”

“i'm only five years older than you!”

“whatever you say!” you reply in a singsongy voice, giggling to yourself as you wander towards the sunny kitchen. the little radio on the windowsill is on, as it always is, and you nod along to the cure while you wait for the kettle to boil. once you've made a cuppa (and grabbed a slack handful of the chocolate digestives marianne always keeps the cupboard stocked with), you settle at the table with your laptop, typing out ideas for your next feature and doing your best not to think about the boy down the corridor you've been instructed not to talk to for the time being. for the most part, you succeed.

that is, until he walks into the staff room two hours later.

you frantically wipe your face of biscuit crumbs as he does, smiling as sweetly as you can for someone with no idea if she has chocolate on her teeth or not. “hi, matty. how are you?”

“oh, hi! i'm, uh, i'm alright,” matty smiles widely enough that his verbal emotional downplaying is blatant - still, he's so cute, beaming at you like that with his little sweater paws. he’s always in a jumper or cardigan or hoodie of some kind, and on more than one occasion in the three months you've known him, you've absolutely thought about literally cosying up into him instead of doing any work. “how was spain? and the wedding - it was a family wedding you were going to, yeah?”

“that's right,” it’s not a big deal, but you glow at the fact he remembered. or maybe it's the soft intent he looks at you with. “it was lovely, yeah. although - wait, have we gone to print?” you ask, suddenly recalling marianne's instructions. “i'm not keeping you from work?”

matty's curls bounce as he shakes his head, light hitting off the metal hoop in his earlobe (that you're only mildly obsessed with). “we've gone. i'm just in here to get my lunch,” he pulls a tupperware from the fridge, cheeks rosy as he waves it. “made some soup last night.”

he makes his own soup. the thought is so endearing that it takes everything in you not to sigh; you settle for a smile. “carrot and coriander?”

“you can tell from one glance?”

you shrug. “s'my favourite.”

“really?” matty's face seems to light up. “mine too,” he busies himself with putting the tupperware in the microwave, taking his time pressing buttons and turning dials before looking bashfully at you. “so, you had a nice time at the wedding, then?”

“i did, thank you. do you, um,” you start, suddenly shy. “d'you want to see some photos from it, while you're waiting for the soup to heat up?”

he nods back just as shyly, sitting quite awkwardly on the seat next to yours; while you open your photos app, matty twists a stray curl around his finger, and the movement seems to send your nerves into vibration as well as the molecules in the air. with a series of shallow breaths, you locate the folder of the wedding pictures and set your phone on the table. “feel free to flick through them, if you like.”

“thank you,” matty sits forward, carefully swiping through the album. you lean on your elbow, doing your best not to beam adoringly at the way he looks intently at each photo before moving to the next. “the venue is really beautiful.”

“yeah, it was stunning.”

the next picture is one of you in your bridesmaid dress, taken by your sister the morning of the wedding. you watch, slightly heartsick, as matty's mouth falls open as he looks at you; the feeling worsens when he tentatively does the same thing in real life, those pretty eyes of his sparkling as he smiles softly. “so are you. really. like,” he looks down at the photo again, shaking his head slightly before looking back up at you. “that colour is beautiful on you. honest. you look incredible.”

“thank you,” the words come out in a whisper, and the two of you silently smile at each other for a moment until you clear your throat. “um, there are more of the official pics on my instagram, let me… actually, do you have my private account?”

“oh, no,” matty shakes his head again - god, you love the way his hair moves. “just the one for your writing.”

“well,” you tap on the app with an almost-imperceptibly shaky finger. “that's the username there, if you'd like to follow. no pressure, of course. don’t wanna fuck up your algorithms or anything.”

your nervous chuckle at the end of the sentence turns to a giggle when you see matty's face as you share your username; it lights up so much that you'd be forgiven for thinking he'd just won the lottery. he pulls his own phone out and taps away at it. “you don't have to follow me back, by the way,” his cheeks flush a deep red, a beautiful colour. “m'not posting anything interesting.”

doubtful. he might be one of the most interesting people you've ever met, all talent and sweetness and a wealth of cultural understanding wrapped up in a sweater and a pretty face. “no, i'd like to.”

“alright. thank you,” matty's cheeks seem to get even redder as he watches you hit follow back, face twitching as though he’s trying to stop himself smiling too big. when the microwave dings, he all but skips over to it, almost tripping over the leg of his chair in a sweetly awkward way; he swears under his breath when he lifts the steaming container out, turning back sheepishly to look at you. “sorry.”

“don't worry,” you grin at him, feeling slightly bold. “i still think you're sweet when you swear.”

he giggles, and the noise makes your heart leap; in addition to being one of the most interesting people you think you've ever met, matty healy is without doubt the cutest. watching his lips pout in concentration as he stirs the soup and checks the temperature, you briefly imagine what they would feel like against your own, how he would be if the two of you were to kiss. just as giggly and endearingly awkward as he usually is, you think - eager to please, lips and tongue a little sloppy and unsure but enthusiastic enough for you not to mind, slightly unsure of where to put his hands so as to not make you uncomfortable… the scene is as clear as day in your head, and you really, really want to recreate it. you'd devour him right now if you could, the sweetheart.

and then, matty reaches up to get a bowl from the shelf, the hem of his shirt goes with him, and your want to devour him suddenly takes on a less pg-rated meaning than it did a second ago.

he has a fucking hip tattoo.

you’re pretty sure it's only a sliver of the full design you can actually see, but the hints of red and blue and black ink and the glimpse of his happy trail are enough to fuck you up completely. as you register what you're seeing - what you're discovering about the seemingly buttoned-up, shy, unassuming-to-everyone-but-you matty - your breath catches in your throat, forcing you to cough quite obviously on the mouthful of lukewarm tea you'd just taken. one cough turns into another, and you clap a hand over your mouth to make your tattoo reaction attack the least obvious it can be.

still, the ever-perceptive man across the kitchen notices, running over to crouch in front of you with concern filling those beautiful eyes of his. “you alright, darling?”

darling?! no, you most certainly aren't alright.

but you can't tell matty that, so you stick to gesturing to let him know you'll reply once you've managed to swallow your tea. “i am, yeah, thanks. tea just, y'know, went down the wrong way.”

matty tilts his head. “you sure?”

“yeah,” you smile, slightly embarrassed. “really. thank you, though.”

“of course,” he smiles in return, knee brushing lightly against your leg as he steadies himself; he looks down, eyes widening as he registers how close the two of you are, and quickly stands. “i'd better, y'know, get my lunch.”

you nod, despite the strange loneliness settling into your bones at the lack of him next to you. “i can head back to the office, if you want peace?”

“no, no, please stay!” matty all but gasps, turning to look at you like a deer caught in headlights - he clears his throat, blinking a few times before speaking again. “please don't feel the need to leave on my account, i mean. or feel obliged to talk, really - i was just going to read.”

“you're sure i won't be a bother to you?”

matty smiles warmly, shaking his head. “that'll never happen.”

christ.

“okay,” you whisper, winking at him - and savouring the little giggle that bubbles out of him when you do - before turning back to your laptop. 

matty settles at the table a minute or so later, pulling a paperback from his back pocket and holding it open quite attractively with one hand. you peek over the rim of your laptop at him every so often, never for more than a couple of seconds at a time; partially to avoid the mortification of him catching you, but mostly because if you look at him any longer you know your mind will wander back to that fucking hip tattoo of his, and what it might look like completely visible to you, and what it might feel like under your lips, and what noises matty might make if you slowly dragged your tongue all over it before moving to the side to lick a wavy line up the length of his-

enough. he's literally right there.

the room feels hot, all of a sudden, your cheeks flushing and throat drying to match. on only slightly shaky legs, you pick up your waterbottle and head to the water fountain, crouching as best you can to fill it. even though he stays silent, you can feel matty’s eyes on you from across the room, but it doesn't bother you or freak you out in the way that other men ogling you at a water fountain would - it's quite obvious that matty has some sort of more-than-platonic affection for you, but his gaze has always been one of appreciation and awe when it comes to you, not the predatory one you've come to expect from men. and yet, his is the only male gaze that makes you feel slightly nervous, unused to being looked at with such reverence and tenderness by an attractive boy; in complete contrast, though, it also makes you lower your guard, pull down the bricks from the wall you've built around your heart, and allow yourself to actually feel something for matty, for once. something good, honest, promising.

matty looks up from his book as you sit down, smiling pleasantly. he opens his mouth as if to talk, and then closes it immediately, shaking his head slightly.

this intrigues you. “you okay, matty?”

“hmm? oh, yeah, i was just thinking,” his cheeks go a shade of pink you would buy in blush form if you could find it. “when you were first talking about the wedding… you said although, and then we got off-topic slightly. what, um, what were you going to say, if you don't mind me asking?”

“oh, right,” you wrack your brain, doing your best to not get distracted by how cute you find his perception. “i think i was going to say something about how, as good as it all was, there's nothing like a family wedding to remind you of how single you are.”

his jaw falls open. “you… you don't have a boyfriend? wait, sorry,” he blinks. “or a partner?”

you shake your head, biting the inside of your lip to stop yourself smiling. “no boyfriend, no. and thus, constantly advised by a never-ending flock of aunts that i should get one so i could get married.”

“christ,” matty winces. “yeah, my cousin's getting married in a couple of months - not looking forward to everyone asking me when i'm going to meet a nice girl and settle down, as if i can answer.”

no girlfriend. how interesting. “you're single? really?”

he rolls his eyes, still smiling at you. “be serious. course i am.”

“i am being serious! that surprises me,” you lean on one elbow, tilting your head to look at him. “you're lovely, matty.”

matty’s eyes widen, and he blinks adorably a few times before he smiles shyly again. “thank you. i think the same about you.”

“you do?”

he simply nods, total sincerity in those pretty eyes. 

you feel your cheeks warm, but you make no effort to hide it. “thank you.”

matty shrugs. “just telling the truth, darling,” he looks panicked when he realises what he's said. “sorry for calling you that, twice, it just-”

“i like it, matty, it's alright,” you say reassuringly. “and i like-”

“oh, thank god you're both here,” marianne bursts into the room, carrying her laptop; you frown petulantly at her for ruining your moment, but shuffle your chair round closer to matty's so she can sit at the table too. “something weird’s happening.”

matty squints. “what d'you mean by weird?”

marianne pushes her laptop towards you both. “there's overlap in your planned reviews - the band you're going to see at the end of next week, matthew, have just been announced as the opener for the next Big Gig. i need to know how we want to go about this.”

“oh,” he looks at you. “i don't mind if you want to just review them as part of yours.”

you're shaking your head vehemently before he even finishes talking. “no, that's not fair,” you tap your lips with your index finger the way you always do when you concentrate, trying to ignore the glow within your body when you see matty looking at them from the corner of your eye; inspiration strikes, and you turn to marianne. “matty could come with me, couldn't he? if he reviews their headline gig, and then he does a follow-up review of their opening set in the Big Gig feature - we could just do a joint byline, work together on it.”

both of them turn to look at you in slight shock. marianne is the first to speak, her words trickling out slowly as she processes the fact you've just agreed to let someone else work on a Big Gig for the first time. “you're… happy with that?”

“if matty is, yeah,” you turn to him, smiling. “sound alright?”

he beams. “more than. thank you.”

“of course,” you turn back to the boss. “there you go. sorted.”

she sighs, relieved. “thank goodness for that. alright,” she stands, picking up her laptop and heading back to the main office. “i'll coordinate press passes. thanks for making that simple - you're both stars.”

“anytime!” you call after her, before turning back to matty. “you're sure you're happy to do this? i realise i've just given you more work to do, but…”

he laughs, a beautiful sound. “nah, i don't mind. also,” he shuffles in his seat, bashful again. “i actually have a spare ticket for the first show, if you'd like it - bought it before i saw it was on the review roster. doesn't seem fair that i get to go to two gigs while you only get one, i think. i mean, no pressure, obviously, but the offer's there.”

god, he’s so fucking cute. how could you ever say no to him? “i'd like that a lot, matty, thank you,” you beam at him. “i think us working together is going to be a lot of fun.”

matty beams back just as enthusiastically. “i think so too.”

[hoshifighting]

The Biggest Fanboy

— Synopsis: Sooyoung, a loyal fanboy, expressed his admiration for you, his favorite choreographer through social media and DMs. The dynamic unfolds as you, the choreographer, surprises Sooyoung with a visit to his dance studio. — WC: 6.4K — WARNINGS: Smut, oral (f. and m. receiving), lap dance, dancing sex? Soonyoung is WHIPPED and also a good boy!, unprotected sex, hair pulling, praising, they run away from his studio, intense sex. — Reader! Famous choreographer, Hoshi! Her biggest fanboy, also a dance studio owner

As Y/N, a renowned choreographer with a string of successes in the world of dance, you've always been dedicated to your craft. In the bustling metropolis, your fame has reached unexpected heights, attracting fans from all walks of life. Among them is Kwon Sooyoung, a talented dancer who, to your surprise, happens to be a fanboy of your work.

Sooyoung, the proud owner of a prominent dance studio in the heart of the city, has made his admiration for your choreography evident through social media and interviews. His posts and comments on your platforms are a testament to his genuine appreciation for your artistry. Despite the virtual nature of your interactions, there's a unique connection that has developed between you and Sooyoung over the years.

The dance community buzzes with excitement whenever Sooyoung shares his thoughts about your latest creations. His loyalty is unwavering, and his dreams of meeting you one day are a constant thread in his online presence. The friendly exchanges in your direct messages have become a regular occurrence, and he never misses an opportunity to extend an invitation for you to visit his studio.

One day, with a break in your busy schedule, you decide to surprise Sooyoung and make good on his invitation. The metropolis stretches out before you as you arrive at his studio, a sleek and modern space with glass walls that offer glimpses of dancers in various stages of practice. The energy is palpable as you walk through the hallway, admiring the dedication of those who share the same passion for movement.

The receptionist welcomes you warmly, explaining that Sooyoung is currently teaching a class. She gestures down the hallway, directing you to the last room on the right where you can observe the class in session. As you make your way, the sound of music and the rhythmic beat of dancing feet grow louder.

As you sat on the bench, Sooyoung wrapped up the dance class, you couldn't help but be enchanted by the scene before you. The little girls, with beaming smiles, gathered around him like a flock of eager butterflies drawn to the warmth of his presence. Sooyoung, wearing that bright pink ballet skirt over his black sweatpants with an air of confidence, embodied a perfect blend of professionalism and playfulness.

The music faded, and Sooyoung, with his infectious energy, announced, "It's time to say goodbye, girls!" The children, bubbling with enthusiasm, rushed toward him, calling out, "Uncle Soonyoung!" Your heart warmed as you witnessed the genuine affection they held for him.

One by one, Sooyoung embraced each child, lifting them off the ground and spinning them in his arms. Laughter filled the room as he playfully interacted with each girl, making sure to pat their heads and exchange a few words before letting them go. His genuine care and affection for his young students were palpable.

Observing this heartwarming spectacle, You couldn't help but be captivated by Sooyoung's ability to create a nurturing and joyous environment in his dance studio. The way he effortlessly connected with the children showcased not only his skills as a dancer but also his genuine love for teaching and mentoring.

As the last of the children leave the room, Sooyoung takes a moment to catch his breath and rehydrate. He reaches for a water bottle, taking a sip as he absentmindedly scrolls through his phone, unaware of the surprise awaiting him.

Meanwhile, you stand outside the glass wall, arms crossed, and a wide grin on your face. The anticipation builds as you patiently wait for Sooyoung to look up and notice your presence.

Finally, as if prompted by some invisible cue, Sooyoung's gaze shifts from his phone to the room beyond. His peripheral vision catches a glimpse of your figure, and he does a double-take. The water bottle pauses mid-air as he raises his eyes, and a gasp escapes him. His eyes widen in disbelief, and he chokes on his water at the unexpected sight of you.

Coughing and sputtering, Sooyoung quickly puts down the water bottle, his expression evolving from surprise to sheer excitement. His eyes lock with yours through the glass, and a mix of emotions plays on his face—joy, disbelief, and genuine happiness. His phone slips from his hand, momentarily forgotten as he rushes to the door, his eyes fixed on you. "Y/n?" Oh my goodness, what are you doing here?" Sooyoung stammered. The little girls' earlier cries of 'Uncle Soonyoung' are now replaced by the pulsating beat of your name on his lips. "I never thought you'd actually come." 

"Well, here I am," you answer, you can't help but smile at his reaction, appreciating the sincerity in his voice. "Well, I figured it was about time I took you up on that invitation," you reply with a playful glint in your eyes "your enthusiasm on social media finally convinced me."

Sooyoung laughs, a joyful sound that fills the room. "I can't believe you saw all those fangirl comments and actually decided to visit. This is amazing!" 

You can't help but chuckle at Sooyoung's sudden self-awareness as he glances around, perhaps noticing your gaze lingering on his choice of attire. "I'm sorry, I must look like a mess after the class." He apologizes with a sheepish grin, acknowledging the contrast between the bright pink ballet skirt and the practical black sweatpants. 

"Oh, don't apologize at all," you assure him, your smile widening. "I think it's a bold fashion statement. Shows you're not afraid to have a little fun, even while teaching."

Sooyoung relaxes a bit, the corners of his mouth turning up in relief. "Yeah, it's a little tradition I have with the kids. They love it when I wear something unexpected. Keeps the energy high, you know?"

You nod in understanding, appreciating the effort he puts into creating a lively and enjoyable atmosphere for his students. The vibrant pink skirt becomes a symbol of his dedication and connection with the kids he teaches.

Sooyoung beams with pride, leading you further into the dance studio. "I've been following your work for years, and having you here is like a dream come true for me and the kids."

"Thank you for making the time to come here. My students are going to lose their minds when they find out you're here," he says, excitement evident in his voice.

You wave off his gratitude with a smile, appreciating the genuine excitement in Sooyoung's voice. "It's my pleasure. I've heard so much about your studio, and I couldn't resist seeing it for myself."

As you walk through the vibrant space, the walls echoing with the sounds of laughter and the rhythmic steps of dance, you can feel the energy and passion that permeate the studio. 

"Guess who's here, everyone?" Sooyoung exclaims, and the anticipation in the room builds.

The students exchange curious glances until their eyes fall upon you, the famous choreographer they've likely seen on screens and admired from a distance. The realization dawns on them, and the room buzzes with excitement.

As the students express their awe and gratitude, you find yourself surrounded by a group of enthusiastic young dancers eager to share their experiences and ask questions. Sooyoung watches with pride as the studio transforms into a hub of excitement and inspiration.

"See what I mean?" Sooyoung says to you with a grin.

[...]

As the clock strikes 10 pm, you check your phone and realize it's time to bid farewell to the lively dance studio. Sooyoung, with a hint of disappointment on his face, accepts the announcement that you need to leave. His shoulders sag a bit, reminiscent of a child whose playtime is coming to an end.

"Thank you so much for coming. This means a lot to all of us," Sooyoung expresses his gratitude once again.

You chuckle at his childlike reaction, finding it endearing. "It was my pleasure, Sooyoung. Your studio is truly something special."

As you gather your things to leave, Sooyoung, with a shy yet hopeful expression, hesitates before making a request. "Um, can I... Can I give you a hug?"

His cheeks flush with embarrassment, and you can't help but find his humility charming. You agree with a warm smile, and he practically beams with joy as he wraps his arms around you. Sooyoung seems to forget the world around him for a moment, reveling in the embrace, and he murmurs a heartfelt thank you.

Stepping back, he seizes the opportunity to extend another invitation, this time to the upcoming spring confraternization of the studio on Saturday. Sooyoung's eyes reflect a mix of hope and excitement as he asks, "Would you like to come? It would mean the world to everyone."

You consider the invitation, appreciating the sincerity in his request. "I'll see if I can make it. If my schedule allows, count me in."

Sooyoung's face lights up with joy once again, and he thanks you eagerly. With a final wave, you exit the dance studio, leaving behind a room filled with memories of unexpected surprises, shared laughter, and the promise of a potential reunion at the upcoming spring event.

As you arrive home, your phone buzzes with excitement, and Sooyoung's name lights up on the screen. With a smile, you open the messages to find a delightful spam of photos, capturing the memorable moments you shared at the dance studio. You respond in kind, sharing some of the photos you took, creating a virtual album of the unexpected day.

Sooyoung comments that a fellow dancer from the studio managed to capture some beautiful shots. Anticipation builds as you wait for the photos to download. When the images finally reveal themselves, there's a heartwarming photo of the two of you hugging and another where you're captured mid-laughter.

"We look good," you reply, adding a playful emoji to convey your delight at the captured moments.

Inspired by the joyous memories, you decide to share a sequence of photos from the day on your social media. The last image in the series is the candid shot of you and Sooyoung wrapped in a warm embrace. In the caption, you express your gratitude, acknowledging Sooyoung's kindness and the incredible day you spent at his studio.

"Such a sweetheart! 🌟 Today was absolutely incredible. Thank you for welcoming me so warmly, Sooyoung" you write, accompanied by a heart emoji.

The post quickly garners attention, with friends, fans, and followers expressing their admiration for the dynamic duo and the evident connection between the famous choreographer and the dedicated dance studio owner. 

Sooyoung's excitement reaches new heights as he sees your post on social media, featuring the photos of the two of you hugging. In a burst of enthusiasm, he can't contain himself and immediately shows the post to Seungkwan and Dokyeom, eager to share the unexpected turn of events.

"Guys, look at this!" Sooyoung exclaims, waving his phone at his friends. "Guess who just posted pictures of us hugging?"

Seungkwan and Dokyeom lean in to get a better look, their curiosity piqued. As the images appear on the screen, they exchange amused glances, clearly entertained by the uproar unfolding in the comments section.

"Soonyoung, you sly dog," Dokyeom teases, nudging him playfully. "Looks like her fanbase is having a field day with this."

Seungkwan adds with a grin, "I knew you had a soft spot for each other. The fans are shipping you two hard."

Sooyoung's cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. "I didn't expect this at all. They really think we look like a couple?"

Dokyeom chuckles, "Well, judging by these comments, they're all in for it. Y'all are becoming a thing, apparently."

Seungkwan joins in the laughter, "Who would've thought? Your crush is now the talk of the country, Sooyoung." The three of them share a moment of camaraderie and amusement as they scroll through the comments, witnessing the unexpected frenzy caused by the seemingly innocent hug.

[...]

Sooyoung had been tapping his feet nervously, anticipation building as he awaited your arrival at the studio's spring event. Throughout the week, your conversations had been filled with uncertainties due to your hectic schedule. He hadn't received a confirmation, leaving him on edge, hoping against hope that you'd show up.

He couldn't help but feel a rush of relief and excitement when he caught sight of you walking towards the studio. With a quick glance in the window's reflection, he hastily adjusted his hair and straightened his shirt, hoping to make a good impression.

As you entered, the energy in the room shifted. The circle of people around you buzzed with excitement, eager to engage with the renowned choreographer in their midst. You graciously greeted them, sharing smiles and warm words, soaking in the atmosphere.

But when your gaze finally met Sooyoung's, his heart skipped a beat. Your bright smile was like a ray of sunshine, and as the crowd parted, you made your way toward him. The circle of people hushed, giving the two of you a moment.

You embraced Sooyoung in a warm hug, and his nerves melted away in that instant. "I'm so glad I could make it," you said softly.

Sooyoung, feeling a rush of emotions, stammered slightly, "I-I can't believe you're here. I mean, I hoped, but... wow."

You chuckled at his flustered reaction, deciding to playfully tease him. "Were you worried I wouldn't show up?"

He blushed, a mix of embarrassment and joy coloring his cheeks. "I, uh, well... maybe a little. It's just... it means a lot that you came."

"Well, you did invite me, didn't you? Couldn't let you down, especially with all these fans waiting to see us together."

Sooyoung, reveling in the playful banter, smirks mischievously in response to your comment. "Oh, I see how it is," he teases, feigning mock offense. "I thought you came just for my dazzling dance moves, not to please the fans." He winks, his tone light and full of humor, "Guess I'll have to step up my game then, huh?"

You raise an eyebrow playfully, your eyes shifting to the big TV across the room where a video from Sooyoung's YouTube channel plays, showcasing his impeccable dance skills to a sensual song. With a sly grin, you suggest, "Maybe you can show me all those dazzling dance moves... when we're alone."

Sooyoung, catching on to the playful tone, licks his lips with a suggestive smirk. "Oh, trust me," he replies, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I've got a whole private playlist of moves that haven't made it to YouTube yet. Maybe you'll get an exclusive performance sometime."

In a whispered tease, you say, "Maybe you can give me a private lesson in those unreleased moves later. I'm curious to see if they're as impressive as you claim."

Your sultry suggestion catches Sooyoung off guard, and he sharply inhales, his eyes widening slightly at the unexpected turn in the conversation. "Well, if you're up for it, maybe I'll have to give you a sneak peek right here, right now," he whispers back, his breath warm against your ear.

As you spot Sooyoung's car in the garage, you turn to him with a playful grin. "Are you seriously going to ditch the event like this?" you inquire, raising an eyebrow.

Sooyoung, clicking the car key with a confident smirk, glances at you with a hint of mischief. "Who cares about the event when I can have you all to myself?" he responds, his tone carrying a touch of naughtiness.

His carefree attitude about leaving the event behind to have an intimate moment with you adds to the excitement. The sound of the car unlocking becomes a signal for your private escape. 

As you settle into Sooyoung's car, the city lights casting a soft glow on the interior, you turn to him with a teasing smile. "So, why exactly do you want to have me all to yourself?" you ask, raising an eyebrow in playful curiosity.

Sooyoung glances at you, his eyes holding a mischievous spark. "Well," he begins, his tone playfully contemplative, "I thought it'd be a shame to waste such a perfect night on anyone else when I could have your undivided attention."

 "Someone's being a bit greedy, wanting me all to themselves. Don't you know how to share?"

Sooyoung, without missing a beat, smirks and replies, "Well, when it comes to you, I don't mind being a little selfish. Can you blame me?"

With a sly grin, you lean in a little closer, your voice taking on a more suggestive tone. "Well, if you're going to be greedy, you better be prepared to handle all of me," you tease, letting the implication hang in the air.

Sooyoung, caught off guard by the unexpected boldness, feels a rush of heat. He glances at you with widened eyes, a mix of surprise and desire evident on his face. The atmosphere in the car becomes charged with a different kind of energy, and you can sense the playful banter taking a more flirtatious turn. Your naughty answer has the desired effect, making Sooyoung's mind race with anticipation as the city lights continue to flicker outside the car window.

As the car comes to a stop at a red signal, you feel Sooyoung's gaze lingering on the exposed skin of your thighs. Sensing his desire, you catch his eye and decide to playfully escalate the teasing. With the tip of your fingers, you subtly pull up the hem of your dress, revealing more of your legs.

Sooyoung, his eyes now fixed on the provocative sight, glances up to meet yours. His gaze darkens with desire, and he inhales sharply. "If you keep teasing me like this," he murmurs, his voice low and filled with a mixture of lust and anticipation, "I can't guarantee I'll be able to wait until we get somewhere."

With a sly smile, you respond to Sooyoung's suggestive remark, "I think I'd prefer a bit more space than a car. Besides, there are some moves I want to show you that might not be suitable for the back seat."

Sooyoung's eyes light up with a mix of excitement and curiosity as he hears your response. "Well, now you've got my attention. What kind of moves are we talking about here?" he asks, a playful grin playing on his lips.

You maintain the sly smile, enjoying the playful banter between you two. "Oh, you'll just have to wait and see. I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise," you reply, your tone teasing and suggestive.

"Well, then," he says, the anticipation evident in his voice, "where do you suggest we go? I'm up for a little adventure."

Sooyoung's grin widens as you suggest, "How about we continue this adventure at my place?"

His eyes light up with excitement, and he nods in agreement. "Sounds like a plan" he replies, his voice carrying a playful yet eager tone. 

You slide your hands to his thigh, a subtle yet unmistakable signal guiding him towards your house. Sooyoung, his mind still buzzing from the teasing and the charged atmosphere, follows your lead.

He turns the car, the familiar quarter of your apartment passing by once again. The combination of the tantalizing proximity and your hand inching higher on his thigh has Sooyoung's concentration wavering. The city lights outside blur as he navigates the familiar route, the rhythm of the car reflecting the heightened pulse of the night.

In the confined space of the elevator, Sooyoung locks eyes with you from across the corner. A charged atmosphere fills the air as the anticipation reaches its peak. With a swift move, Sooyoung steps closer, his eyes conveying an undeniable desire.

Without a word, he surprises you with a passionate tongue kiss, the sudden intensity catching you off guard. His lips meet yours in a heated embrace, and you can feel the hunger in the way he kisses, a mix of desire and urgency. Sooyoung's hands grip you tightly, pulling you closer as the elevator continues its ascent.

As the elevator door opens, you pull Sooyoung with you, still lost in the fervor of the kiss. The two of you stumble towards your apartment door, the intensity of the moment propelling you forward. The keys tremble in your hands as you fumble to unlock the door, the urgency building with each passing second.

Finally, the door swings open, and you practically run inside, eager to feel Sooyoung's lips on yours again. You turn around, your back against the door, your bodies pressed together. Sooyoung wastes no time, and his lips find their way to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses that sends shivers down your spine.

With a subtle yet assertive move, you pull Sooyoung by the hem of his shirt, guiding him towards your room. The anticipation between you two continues to grow, and you have a plan in mind. Once in your room, you reach for your phone, intending to set the mood with a carefully chosen song.

After selecting the perfect track, you toss your phone onto the desk and turn your attention back to Sooyoung. With a teasing smile, you guide him to sit on the bed.

Sooyoung, unable to resist the alluring rhythm of your hips moving in sync with the music, bites his lip in a gesture of both desire and restraint. A moan escapes him, his eyes narrowing with intensity as he gazes at you. His furrowed eyebrows and fluttering eyes betray a mixture of longing and arousal, the unspoken connection between you becoming increasingly palpable.

As the music continues to play, creating a sultry backdrop to the scene, Sooyoung lays on his elbows, his eyes locked onto you with a mix of desire and anticipation. Sensing the connection between you two, you decide to take control, and you hover over him, creating an intimate space between your bodies.

You lift your hips up and down, the rhythm of the motion syncing with the music. He can feel your pussy bumping into his dick on purpose when you swing your ass above his bulge. 

Sooyoung, captivated by the intimate dance and the connection between you two, lets out a low, throaty whisper, his voice dripping with desire. "You're driving me crazy," he confesses, his words revealing the intensity of the sensations that course through him.

His gaze remains locked onto you, a mixture of admiration and longing in his eyes. As the music weaves its way around the room, his hands find a gentle yet firm place on your hips, following the rhythm you've set. The unspoken language of desire fills the air, and in this intimate moment, Sooyoung's words echo the emotions that swirl between you, creating a soundtrack to the shared experience unfolding in the dimly lit room.

The room is filled with a charged silence as you take the hem of your dress and pull it up, revealing yourself naked to Sooyoung. His eyes widen in surprise, and a sharp inhale escapes him as his mouth slightly opens, captivated by the sight before him. The dim lighting accentuates the contours of your figure, casting a sensual glow on the intimate moment.

Sooyoung's eyes widen even further in chock as he realizes you're wearing nothing underneath the dress adds another layer of intensity to the moment. 

A soft moan escapes your lips, a natural response to the electrifying contact between his pants and your exposed cunt. The fabric creates a tantalizing friction on your clit, adding a layer of intensity to the sensual dance.

Sooyoung, attuned to your reactions, registers the moan with a mixture of satisfaction and heightened desire. His hands, still firmly placed on your hips, tighten slightly in response to the shared sensations, pulling you closer and pressing you firmly against his bulge.

As Sooyoung takes off his shirt, revealing a sculpted and toned physique, he starts to dance his hips, swaying with a rhythm that mirrors the sultry music playing in the background. The tactile sensation of Sooyoung's rough jeans against your pussy adds a heightened dimension to the dance of desire. The fabric, brushing against you with every movement, creates a tantalizing friction that further amplifies your pleasure.

In the intimate setting, you look into Sooyoung's eyes and, with a sultry tone, express your longing, "Sooyoung-ah, I want more. I want you so bad."

His thumb runs through your folds, then he starts circling your clit, your knees shaking with the sudden contact of his warm skin. Sooyoung, still teasing with his skilled fingers, leans in and asks in a sultry whisper, "Do you really want me?" His question hangs in the air, the room filled with a charged anticipation. Without waiting for a verbal response, he plants a series of sensual kisses along the valley of your breasts.

Feeling the intensity of the moment, you grip Sooyoung's hair firmly, making him hiss. His eyes meet yours, a mix of surprise and desire evident in his gaze. With a sense of urgency, Sooyoung speeds up his actions in response to your moans, each movement adding to the crescendo of desire in the room.

Sooyoung, driven by the escalating desire, pulls you to the edge of the bed. He kneels on the floor, his gaze locking with yours from below. The change in perspective adds an extra layer of intensity to the moment. Your breath catches as Sooyoung's mouth works its magic, each touch and caress sending waves of pleasure through your body. Clit being sucked and flicked with his warm tongue, making you scream his name. 

Sooyoung, immersed in the task at hand, closes his eyes, dedicating himself to giving you pleasure. His focused demeanor showcases his commitment, as if it's a ride-or-die mission. You run your fingers gently along his cheek, appreciating the dedication he puts into the moment. A soft laugh escapes you as you observe how intensely he's focused.

With a teasing tone, you praise him, "Soonyoun-gie, you're doing so well for me, such a good boy, the best boy." The words find their way into his consciousness, and his cheeks flush with a delightful shade of red. The combination of your praises and the pleasure he's providing creates a potent mix of sensations on him making him moan, vibrations sent straight to your clit.

As the rhythm of your lungs speeds up, breathing becoming fast and erratic, Sooyoung keenly notices the heightened intensity. In response, he speeds up, gripping your thighs tighter with a determined glare. The acceleration of his movements pushes you to the edge, and the climax arrives with an intensity that takes you by surprise. 

As you catch your breath, Sooyoung's gaze meets yours with a satisfaction, and he rises from his kneeling position, a satisfied and content expression on his face. The dimly lit room is filled with a post-climactic tranquility as you catch your breath.

Sooyoung, still close, brushes a gentle kiss against your forehead, a tender gesture that adds to the intimacy of the moment. The air is thick with a shared connection, and a comfortable silence envelops the room.

With a playful glint in your eyes, you suggest, "You deserve a reward," as you notice Sooyoung's pants growing tighter. He chuckles nervously, attempting to decline the offer, "No, no, no need to. I'm satisfied."

Ignoring his protests, you proceed to unbutton his jeans, your hands working with a deliberate intent on his hard dick. "I swear, Y/N-nie, I-I'm already too-" As your touch intensifies, Sooyoung's words begin to slow down until they get lost in the growing tension. His breath becomes heavier against your neck, the room filled with the palpable anticipation of the next shared experience.

In the quiet, intimate space between you and Sooyoung, his protests become muffled breaths against your neck as your hands continue their skillful exploration. As you work your magic, Sooyoung's resistance dissolves, replaced by a growing need. He breathes heavily against your neck, words escaping him in fragmented whispers. "I... I didn't expect this... you're too much," he stammers.

Amused by Sooyoung's sincerity, you praise him once again, "You deserve it, you know. You made me feel so good." As you swing your feet, a playful expression on your face, you continue, "And it's not just about me. You should enjoy it too."

Sooyoung, still catching his breath, shakes his head, a content smile playing on his lips. "I'm already satisfied, honestly. Just seeing you like that, hearing you... it's more than enough. I dreamt about that," he admits, his eyes reflecting a mixture of satisfaction and a touch of vulnerability.

You can't help but find it endearing, his selflessness in the pursuit of your pleasure. "You're too good, Sooyoung-ah," you say, a teasing glint in your eyes.

In response to your teasing, Sooyoung chuckles nervously, "I-I'm fine, really. No need for anything else." However, you can sense a subtle curiosity in his eyes, a desire to explore further.

With a playful grin, you lean in closer, your breath warm against his ear. "Are you sure?" you whisper, your voice carrying a hint of mischief. "I can make your dreams come true too, Sooyoung-ah."

His cheeks flush slightly, a mix of embarrassment and anticipation. "Well, maybe just a little," he admits, his gaze meeting yours with a shy smile.

As Sooyoung gets free from the rest of his clothes, he watches you approach his cock with a mixture of anticipation and nervous excitement. His breath becomes shakier, and he confesses, "I think I'm going to lose my mind."

A mischievous smile plays on your lips as you respond, "That's exactly what I want, Sooyoung-ah." Your words add a layer of playful tension to the room, and you continue to pump his dick with a deliberate touch.

Sooyoung sulks slightly, a mix of embarrassment and pleasure washing over him. He mutters, "This is too much," but his body betrays him, responding to your every touch.

As the exploration continues, Sooyoung's sulking demeanor begins to transform into a mixture of pleasure and surrender. Your skilled touch elicits soft moans from him.

Despite his initial protests, Sooyoung's body responds eagerly to your every move. 

You pause amidst the intimate exchange, a soft smile gracing your lips as you ask, "Are you always this shy?" starting to pump him again.

Sooyoung, his cheeks still flushed, chuckles softly and replies, "No, it's not usually like this. I guess it's just... you."

You raise an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Me? What did I do to make you so shy, Sooyoung-ah?"

He shrugs playfully, a shy smile lingering on his lips. "I don't know. You just have this effect on me, I guess." he replies as he watches you getting down.

As your mouth wraps around Sooyoung's cock, he gasps loudly, arching his back in response to the unexpected pleasure. His mumbles become a symphony of fragmented words and hushed expressions of pleasure.

"Oh, woah," he gasps, fingers tangling in your hair. "T-that feels... amazing," he stammers, his voice catching between breaths. Incoherent whispers escape him as the sensations ripple through his body.

You feel his rapid heartbeat beneath your touch, his mumbles a testament to the overwhelming pleasure he's experiencing. 

Sooyoung can't help but vocalize his pleasure when his tip hits the back of your throat, making a dripping mess around his cock, and then coming back, licking the head with flickering licks. 

Sooyoung, caught in the throes of pleasure, finds himself reaching the peak of ecstasy. The grip on your hair tightens, a mixture of desire and urgency. His moans become more pronounced, blending with your own shared sounds of passion.

"Ah, sorry," he manages to mumble between moans, his voice husky with desire. He loosens his grip, his fingers now gently caressing your scalp as an apology. However, you find the roughness oddly pleasurable, and it only adds to the heightened atmosphere. 

His words continue to be a mix of apologies and incoherent expressions of pleasure. "Didn't mean to," he whispers, but his actions betray his sincerity.

As Sooyoung reaches his peak of pleasure, his grip tightens momentarily before his body tenses with the release. He makes a mess, his breath hitching with the intensity of the moment. His chin lifts, and he throws his head back, a guttural moan escaping his lips.

The room is filled with the aftermath of shared ecstasy, the air heavy with a mix of passion and satisfaction. Sooyoung's body relaxes, and he breathes heavily, the waves of pleasure slowly subsiding.

After the intensity of the moment, you lean in to kiss Sooyoung, sharing the intimate taste of the aftermath. Your lips linger on his, and then you trail kisses across his cheeks, coaxing him back to the present.

As he slowly returns from the depths of ecstasy, you look into his eyes and softly ask, "Are you good, Sooyoung?"

Unable to formulate words, Sooyoung responds with a deep, satisfied moan. His body, still humming with the echoes of pleasure, communicates a sense of contentment that transcends spoken language.

As Sooyoung starts to regain consciousness, he begins to kiss your neck with a newfound awareness. The intimate act sends shivers down your spine, and you can feel his growing desire pressing against you.

His lips linger on your neck, and in the sultry atmosphere, you playfully remark, "Feeling more awake now, Sooyoung-ah?"

Sooyoung, his voice laced with desire, responds, "Very awake, especially here," as he gently emphasizes his growing arousal.

A mischievous glint in your eyes, you tease, "Should we change positions, or are you comfortable like this?"

Sooyoung, unable to resist the playful banter, grins, "I think a change of scenery would be nice. What do you have in mind?" 

As the dynamics shift, Sooyoung now on top of you, his gaze filled with attentiveness, you look up at him with a playful yet commanding glint in your eyes. With a sly smile, you order, "Sooyoung-ah, show me your best moves. Dance for me."

His eyes widen with surprise, a mix of curiosity and excitement playing on his features.

Sooyoung, embracing the challenge with enthusiasm, focuses on the intimate performance. The music playing in the background becomes a subtle soundtrack to the dance unfolding between you two. He pushes only his tip, making you look at him with hooded eyes, biting your lip. 

As Sooyoung hovers over you, his gaze filled with a mix of desire and concern for your comfort, he softly asks, "How do you want it, slowly or all in at once?"

You pause for a moment, meeting his gaze with a playful yet anticipatory expression. "Surprise me," you respond, your voice filled with a hint of excitement.

As Sooyoung fulfills your request and enters all at once, a gasp escapes your lips, quickly turning into a passionate scream of his name. The room resonates with the intensity of the moment, the sound of your voice echoing through the intimate space.

Sooyoung, captivated by the raw and unrestrained pleasure he evoked, finds himself amazed. The realization that his biggest inspiration is screaming his name in the most explicit way adds a layer of ecstasy to the experience. 

As Sooyoung begins to roll his hips, his hands exploring every inch of your body, the dance takes on a new rhythm. The synchronization of his movements with the subtle beats of the song transforms the room into a private stage.

His hips meet yours in a rhythmic dance, circling and rolling in a slow and deliberate motion. Each movement sends waves of pleasure through your body, making your toes curl with the intoxicating sensation.

Sooyoung starts to pick up the pace, his movements becoming faster and more fervent. The connection deepens as he feels you tightening around him, a telltale sign of shared ecstasy.

Sooyoung, balancing on the edge of the bed, moans with a mixture of pleasure and a hint of surrender. "Right there," you cry out, his name escaping your lips. Sensing the impending climax, you encourage him with breathless urgency, "Don't stop, Sooyoung, don't you dare stop." Sooyoung, his voice strained with desire, responds, "I won't stop, not until you're fully satisfied."

As Sooyoung continues his passionate rhythm, each thrust hitting that exquisite spot with precision, the intensity builds. The pleasure becomes almost overwhelming, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes as your body tenses in response.

Then, in a wave of ecstasy, you reach the climax. Your body arches, and a torrent of pleasure courses through you, wetting both him and the bed. The room echoes with the sounds of your moans, and your body stretches in a blissful release, forming a perfect "O."

As Sooyoung witnesses the physical and emotional intensity etched across your face — the tightness around him, your shaky knees, and the continuous symphony of moans — a profound realization hits him. The sheer pleasure, the uncontrollable reactions, it's all because of him.

Overwhelmed by the sight before him, he succumbs to the intensity of the moment. His moans become a mantra of your name, a vocal expression of the pleasure coursing through him.

Your bodies are locked in a passionate embrace, and Sooyoung, on the precipice of climax, finally reaches the peak. He fills you up, the room resonating with the echoes of shared ecstasy, the culmination of a dance that transcended physicality.

In the aftermath of shared pleasure, Sooyoung, overwhelmed by a surge of emotions, tightens his embrace as if cherishing the moment. His arms envelop you as if it were the last time you'd be together in such an intimate space.

You, equally caught in the emotional currents, caress his hair tenderly, planting gentle kisses on his cheek. The room becomes a haven for shared vulnerability, a sanctuary where physical and emotional intimacy converge.

"I've admired you for so long, and now, being with you like this, it feels surreal."

You gently tease Sooyoung, noting his sentiment, "You're acting like this is our last moment together."

He raises his shoulder in a playful shrug, a hint of uncertainty in his expression. "I... I don't know what happens next."

Your tone softens with a playful reassurance, "Relax, it's not the end. In fact, I want to do this again. Maybe 200 times in every corner of my house."

Sooyoung's eyes widen in pleasant surprise at your suggestion. "200 times? That's... quite a lot," he stammers, caught off guard by the playful proposal.

You chuckle at his reaction, enjoying the playful banter. "I'm just kidding. But I definitely wouldn't mind doing this again."

The room fills with a light-hearted atmosphere, the tension easing into a comfortable and playful exchange. Sooyoung, recovering from the initial surprise, raises an eyebrow in playful curiosity. "Does that number also include the rounds?"

You chuckle, shaking your head, "No, no. The rounds are not included in that count. But speaking of rounds, how about a round two in the bathroom?"

Sooyoung, now grinning, responds with a hint of mischief, "Bathroom, huh? That sounds intriguing. Lead the way."