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americasass81 · 20 days ago

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Where The Heart Leads

Warnings 18+ for the following:- Mostly Fluff, Use of Pet Name, Very Brief Bomb Mention, Very Brief Mention of Anxiety, Feelings of Insecurity, Very Minor Implied Sex. Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you, the warnings are there for a reason. Feedback is welcomed and any mistakes are my own.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Author’s Note 1:- Some time in the making, this companion piece to my dark/soft CEO Steve Rogers fic Deck The Balls , a special shoutout has to go to @navybrat817 , @stargazingfangirl18 (and of course @drabblewithfrannybarnes ) for inspiring this Hoeliday creation. Thank you so much lovelies.

Challenge parameters:- CEO Johnny Storm (Character), “Sweetheart, that (article of clothing) just got you added to the naughty list.” (Dialogue), Cuddling for warmth (scenario)

Author’s Note 2:- Although a reader insert in their original tale, for the purposes of this fic, Steve’s gal is given a name here.

Author’s Note 3:- As always, all images have been found through google search.

Synopsis:- It’s the start of the Holiday Season and a mysterious box may just hold the key to your dreams … if you're only brave enough to seize the opportunity.

Pairings:- soft!CEO Johnny Storm x Reader.

Total Word Count:- 5,568

Turning off your computer, leaving your desk and checking in on Francine before you made your way down to the conference room, your mind was still struggling with what you were doing and how you were dressed. And your friend's reaction didn't help matters. Working alongside her now these past five years as Johnny Storm's personal assistant, it was safe to say you had ended up with the better boss. Well at least the more easy going one anyway. For while Steve Rogers was by the book in office interactions, Johnny by comparison was easy to talk to, quick with a joke and seemed well aware of the type of appeal he had with the ladies. Not that he ever mixed things up at the office as far as you knew. Neither of the guys did.

But Steve, while still easy on the eyes, was definitely far more reserved and expected excellence from every member of staff that considered this their place of employment. Not that Francine ever seemed to mind and god knows she never complained. Working every bit as late, if not later, than her own boss Steve Rogers, you just hoped she would take some time to enjoy the Christmas party she had worked so tirelessly to make perfect. After all, if anyone in the company deserved to let loose and enjoy themselves it was her. So why then did it feel like that particular task had been passed on to you? Not that you had time to ask her however as a more pressing question took precedence at this time having been in the back of your mind all day.

--- BEGIN FLASHBACK ---

Stepping off the elevator together that morning as the janitorial staff were just unplugging the last of their equipment, you and Francine continued to chat through the common appointments for the day before the large boxes waiting on your desks brought a stop to your conversation and a puzzled look settled on both of your faces ... for these unexpected deliveries did not belong here. Looking back and forth now between each other and the mysterious items before then casting your gazes towards the janitorial staff, a quick step out of her office door by Francine told you that she was taking charge of the situation like always. Something you were only too grateful for as you watched her go.

Striding towards Larry, the head janitor, with a purpose you had seen her display countless times around the office when things weren't running the way they should, a quick conversation later and she was back at your office door now apparently no wiser than when she had left her own. "Larry doesn't know what they contain or who dropped them off," she explained, glancing now between you and the beautifully wrapped box taking up a nice portion of your desk space, "any ideas what we should do about them?" she then inquired and you had to admit that this was not the reaction you had expected. After all, Francine had three more years experience of working here over you, which meant she at least should have had some idea how best to handle this.

Thankfully for you however it seemed this question had been rhetorical as she ignored your vacant stare now and hurried back into action.

Striding across the hall towards her own office once more whilst simultaneously removing her jacket, she quickly dropped both it and her bag neatly just outside the door and then carefully moved beside her desk in a manner that still left her with a clear pathway out again should her next actions not go favorably.

Taking mental notes meanwhile on every action she took now from your own office doorway, you moved out into the hallway however when she beckoned you forwards but stopped just as swiftly when she gestured for you to do so. It seemed she wanted you in the hallway ready to make a run for it should the need arise. Which didn't bring you any comfort whatsoever. But her added gesture for you to remain quiet meant this was a concern you were not permitted to voice it seemed. Continuing to stare in silence now as Francine then slowly, but carefully, brought her ear down to the package, your heart meanwhile thundered in your chest as the seconds ticked by and you didn't know how much more uncertainty you could handle until flesh met paper and finally Francine's thumb appeared upright before your frightened eyes to indicate that everything was all right.

Or at least as all right as it could be given what she had suspected. No way were you prepared it seemed to deal with a bomb threat now or at any time in the future. But thankfully you wouldn't have to apparently. Breathing a sigh of relief now while picking up her jacket and bag and joining her in her office as both of you still looked suspiciously at the exquisite package, Francine next examined it for any signs of identification before asking you to do the same.

Returning to your own office now and noticing no card, writing or anything of any informative value, both of you now took a quick glance at the office clock before Francine decided that enough time had been wasted on this useless endeavor. So picking up the phone and ringing down to the main floor, a hurried yet precise conversation with Melissa at reception told her that these two packages had not been professionally delivered, had not gone through reception as was the required protocol and were not even mentioned in the catalog of deliveries for any day this week.

Which in your mind left only one possible explanation ... these had to have somehow been arranged by your bosses. But whether Francine agreed with that assessment remained to be seen.

Placing the phone back down and taking one last withering look at the clock again, Francine next took hold of either end of the cover and carefully lifting it off, pulled back the tissue inside to reveal a glimpse of what looked to be the most beautiful dress she had ever seen before. Suspecting now that this was probably meant to be worn to the Christmas party taking place beneath her feet this very night, she skimmed her fingers lightly over the shimmering material before placing the cover back on, moving the package to the nearest available out of the way surface and turning her attention back to you. "Well go on, see what someone gifted you," she said with a smile before watching you walk back to your office while she instead went about starting off her working day.

Doing now as she had done and also revealing a dress far more beautiful and expensive than anything you had ever imagined setting eyes on, let alone wearing, the ding of the main elevator told you your conversation with Francine regarding the possible source of these garments and what to do with them would now have to wait until a quieter time presented you with the opportunity. As it was, working for Steve Rogers and Johnny Storm, that quieter time would apparently be when the office had shut down for the holiday season and you were on your way to the party in the very same dress that was now meant to be part of that postponed conversation. And what a conversation that ended up being.

--- END FLASHBACK ---

Looking up from her desk and the mountain of work she had laid out before her as you cleared your throat to get her attention, her eyes practically popping out of their sockets as you gave her a little twirl was nothing compared to the greeting she gave you when you finally stopped moving. "Well don't you look sexy this festive season. I hope your secret admirer gets to appreciate you in that getup," she teased with a smile as you made your way further into her office before taking a seat in one of the empty chairs in front of her desk.

Smiling back at her now while your eyes flicked between her workload, her business attire and her own boxed up dress still sitting off to the side where she had left it that morning, you quickly decided now was as good a time as any to tell her your theory on the dresses while making sure that a party appearance had been marked on her calendar. Her response however was not what you expected.

Confirming that such an appearance was indeed on the cards once she finished up the waiting emails and signed her name to the last few documents in the top folder, your delight took a pummeling however when she pointed out the flaws in your theory regarding the dresses. For one it seemed that while she trusted Rogers and Storm to handle meetings and run an extremely successful company, that trust did not extend to them knowing how to order two high end ladies dresses and get them delivered to their place of employment without anyone around them ever finding out. Secondly, which was a point you totally had to agree on, she couldn't see how they could have gotten both of your measurements correct enough for the dresses in question to fit as well as yours obviously did.

No, she may not have known who sent them but she was fairly certain that this was one task way outside the expertise, not to mention the comfort zone, of the two men whose corporate asses both of you covered on a daily basis. And now that you thought about it from the point of view of all you actually did for Johnny, you kind of had to agree. Sort of. But who then did that leave? However, it was on this question you would have to leave things when Francine kindly pointed out that sitting in her office pondering the who, how and why would solve nothing when the culprit was most likely waiting among the many bodies gathered downstairs at this very moment waiting for your entrance. An entrance she herself would make when the last i had been dotted and the final T crossed.

Nodding at her now in total agreement as you watched her return to her work as a means of ending the conversation, you wished her a Merry Christmas, rose from the chair and felt a bit better heading off towards the party now with her uttered reassurance that you would see her there later. If only that feeling could have made the full trip with you however. Watching the numbers blink down from the corporate offices to the conference floor, your hands smoothing out the fabric and no one to talk to brought out all your own insecurities however as your mind asked itself what exactly might be expected from you if indeed the person who purchased the dress was present to witness you wearing it. Never mind what everyone else might think.

Stepping out of the elevator now onto the conference floor, the imposter syndrome was louder here than the music seeping out through the crystal clear doors after the trip down however and it seemed to be winning out over the holiday spirit evident in every decoration and partygoer dotted throughout the room ahead..

Watching the elevator close behind you while placing your hand on the door before you, you quickly took a moment to step off to the side and rest your shoulder against the nearest wall as your nerve faltered and the truth of who you were finally won out ... for you truly didn't belong here. Oh sure, as a personal assistant you had proven yourself more than capable of answering phones, arranging meetings and replying to the countless emails that filled Johnny Storm's inbox on a daily basis. But everything else? Dealing with clients. Arranging events like the one Francine had pulled off this very night on the other side of the wall. Hell, even handling the situation with the dresses as she had done so efficiently that morning. No, these were things you were certain you would never get the hang of no matter how many years you worked here.

So what then were you doing standing here in this expensive dress about to enter a party you had no earthly business even attending? You should simply head back into the elevator, push the button for the parking level and drive yourself home for the quiet, relaxing holiday that always welcomed you like an old friend. Now if only fate would allow you that opportunity. As it was it seemed it, or more accurately he, had a different plan in mind for you as a strong body made its presence known against your back just as two suit-clad arms encircled your waist and temporarily short circuited your brain from its fight or flight response. Which ended up being a good thing given where you were and who those very same arms happened to belong to.

Resting his chin against your shoulder now while holding you still as your brain tried to figure out what best to do in this situation, the voice whispering in your ear suddenly cleared enough of the fog surrounding this development to make you realize you knew this person ... or at least you thought you did. "Sweetheart, that dress just got you added to the naughty list. Let's see if I can join you there before this night is over," he whispered before releasing you and moving forward to stand beside your startled form. "Shall we?" he then continued with a smile while reaching out his hand for you to take before escorting you into the heart of the party. Which totally blew your startled mind.

Standing beside him arm in arm now as both of you walked through the conference room doors, the music should have settled your nerves and pulled you into the festive season, but your mind was still reeling from the way things were currently playing out. For it seemed your theory had been one hundred percent correct.

Smiling politely now and shaking hands with anyone that offered you theirs, you and Johnny made a quick, yet graceful, path through the room as he expertly greeted those clients whose sole reason for being here it seemed was to grab some attention from one, if not both, of the head men responsible for yet another successful financial year. Talking, laughing and spending as much time as he deemed necessary with each client, while also somehow making sure that you were never treated as window dressing, eventually snagging two drinks off the tray of a passing waiter and steering both of you to a quiet corner, your body landing on the soft sofa was a welcome relief beneath you ... even if it did now allow time for the reality of what had just happened to finally hit you.

"Mr. Storm, what the hell was all that?" you asked in a murmured rush before he handed you a glass of champagne which you swiftly emptied in one go if for no other reason than to settle your nerves and stop the babbling you knew was just beginning. Thankfully however he at least seemed to be far better at handling the situation than you. As was evident by his response.

Taking a generous, yet controlled, sip of his own drink now while letting his eyes travel the length of your body, it seemed he was happy with his assessment that you weren't about to pass out on him and so began his quick explanation. Reminding you that the main function of these events was to make the clients feel important enough to mix socially with himself and Steve while also rewarding the staff for the excellent work they did throughout the year, his obligations had been satisfactorily fulfilled and it was now time for him to enjoy himself. Which was where he hoped you would come in, he continued and this time it was your turn to beckon forward the nearest waitress as another round of champagne was definitely needed to drown out the doubts and questions bubbling up within you once more. Not that he was having any of it apparently.

Shooing the waitress away and instead allowing you an adequate sip of the liquid courage still contained within his own sparking crystal glass, the music shifting to a slow haunting melody seemed to give him a more appropriate means of distracting you once more. One you however were not all that excited about. Taking the glass back from your lips and dabbing a napkin at the small drop of liquid that lingered behind, his hand then reaching for yours again as he now stood up and pulled you gently to your feet caught you off guard just enough to make you believe he was once more leading you towards a client he had probably missed on his initial entrance. For his actual plan was far worse than you ever could have imagined as his intentions became clearer.

Leading you now to the middle of the floor however as dancing couples parted as they might for important dignitaries, Johnny positioning your body lightly before him while he then placed his hand on the small of your back made your whole world spin with the realization of what he had in mind. He actually expected you to dance with him it seemed, which was a totally alien concept to you. After all you had successfully avoided public shamings like this your whole life ... at least until now. Tuning in on your anxiety however while whispering gently to follow his lead, he next took your hands, placed them respectfully on his own body and closed the distance between both of you before beginning a waltz he hoped would ease your tension and bring out your fun side ... but it seemed it wasn't to be.

Moving with him stiffly as your long forgotten childhood dance lessons tried to carry you along, your mind couldn't steal itself away from the countless sets of eyes following your movements and zeroing in on each and every mistake you invariably made however. Which in turn only made you more tense. A fact you were grateful that Johnny at least picked up on when the tune finally ended and he walked you back to the sofa and the little slice of privacy it provided. Not that it would be enough for you it seemed.

Sitting back down on it now and snatching up his glass to polish off the rest of his now warm and flat champagne before he could even object about what a bad idea that actually was, you were just about to call out for another glass as you had tried to earlier when Johnny instead took charge of the situation once more. Reaching out and talking your hand again, he pulled you from the sofa once more while silencing any objections you might have with a look that clearly told you to just follow his lead. Glancing around the room then to make sure your presence was not being observed, he now walked both of you out of the nearest door and led you hand in hand to the first elevator to open its doors. It seemed he was changing the venue which should have brought you some measure of relief, but that apparently would have been a Christmas miracle.

Stepping inside now and watching anxiously as the doors closed, Johnny pressed the button to take both of you back to the offices, past Francine's now empty one and straight through the heavy wooden doors that opened directly into the C.E.O.s private section. But your journey didn't stop there it seemed. Wondering to yourself now if Francine was finally downstairs enjoying the fruits of her labor instead of focusing on the gutted state of her once inhabited office, your mind became further distracted now however as Johnny inserted a key in the panel before you, waited for the doors of these new elevators to open and ushering you inside now placed his thumb over the P1 button and pressed it.

Standing beside you then while glancing sideways at you to make sure your anxiety had not rendered you helpless, experience reminded you that this was a trip you had never taken before and as the doors eventually opened on a floor you had never seen in your life, your suspicion was proven true and any anxiety you had felt downstairs had now skyrocketed upwards to world ending levels. For this was most definitely a private floor and one you were fairly certain you wanted nothing to do with whatsoever. But was he the type of man to give you a choice?

Turning to face you now as your eyes focused solely on the door opposite, Johnny broke the silence and your staring when he began to speak. "Well here we are, my private apartment. I thought, given how ... uncomfortable you seemed with all the attention downstairs that maybe you'd feel more relaxed here," he explained before continuing, "if you want to leave however, I can totally arrange that," he added, placing his hand back on the elevator button for closing the doors now, "but I'm hoping you'll stay," he finished and you had to admit the look he gave you now seriously made you wonder.

Reminiscent of a kid wishing and waiting for something he'd always wanted, could you really deny him then? Looking frantically now between the apartment door, your dress and your boss, whom it seemed owned both, your thoughts drifted back once more to your earlier question of what payment would be expected for the garment you now wore. Well, it seemed that question may finally have been given an answer.

But where then did that leave you? Were you really going to risk your job, one you actually loved, to be another notch on Johnny Storm's bedpost? Oh sure, you may have only worked for him these past five years and you would definitely be the first to admit you didn't know every finer detail about his life, likes or dislikes. But your ears still worked. You had, like everyone else you imagined, heard the rumors running rampant throughout the office gossip pools about the scores of broken hearts Johnny Storm and Steve Rogers had left scattered all over the New York area. But was it actually true and if so, did you really want your name added to that list as you searched through the unemployment ads after this whole thing inevitably came crashing down?

Calling your name now to bring you out of your thoughts and get your attention back on him, a reassuring glance at his fingers still hovering where he had left them and it seemed however that your mind was made up.

Allowing you to enter the apartment first as the door slid into the wall to facilitate your passage, the sight that greeted you here however was not quite what you had pictured. Not that you had ever pictured what Johnny Storm's corporate apartment actually looked like. In fact, before tonight, you never even imagined using the words corporate apartment for either of these guys. The men came to work, took meetings and gave out directives. But then, whenever work finally cut them loose and afforded them a modicum of rest, you assumed they returned home or to hotel suites and did whatever it was big, successful C.E.O.s did until the corporate world called out to them all over again the next morning.

At least that's what you always thought. They certainly didn't live in a place like this. For looking around this open plan space now told you that this was no booty call, bachelor pad. Not that you knew what those even looked like, mind you. But this place certainly had a touch of love about it.

For starters, the white and blue Christmas decorations tastefully placed throughout the kitchen and living area showed signs of use upon closer inspection and when Johnny appeared with two mugs of hot chocolate and marshmallows, inside Santa and a snowman no less, you knew these mugs at least were not picked up at some fancy corporate office decorating store. These mugs had been picked out with a love of the season in mind, used for the time period it covered and carefully stored away afterwards to be pulled out again twelve months later. They were a personal item. One of many you now noticed prominently placed around the apartment as you took the snowman mug from Johnny and let your eyes wander while the delicious liquid calmed you in a way the champagne downstairs couldn't seem to do.

Or maybe it was the apartment and its homey feeling that was phishing away your anxiety. For your eyes could confirm the place was definitely lived in.

Moving away from the kitchen area now and the few dirty food items waiting in the sink, a sweater thrown on the arm of the sofa, logs piled up by the side of the fireplace that had just previously been used if the ashes in the grate were any indication, a tie hanging on the end of the stairs banister leading up to what you assumed was the sleeping area, this place, wrapped in all the trimmings of the holiday season definitely felt more like your scene than the party you had left a few floors below you.

And perhaps that's what Johnny had picked up on as he now joined you by the Christmas tree that seemed to hold so many items near and dear to his heart. "So tell me, is this more your comfort zone?" he inquired gently as his unoccupied hand came up to rest against your waist once more and you found yourself slipping back against his larger frame as you had downstairs when he first appeared behind you.

"Yes, it's beautiful," you confirmed, "but why bring me here?" you asked, even though you knew he had told you why when the elevator doors had opened on this floor. But maybe you needed to hear him say where his mind was going. At least that had been the plan until he actually complied with your request and started talking. Then the bubble burst. Taking your hand yet again and walking you over to the sofa which now seemed to be a prerequisite in your dealings with him, no amount of hot chocolate, champagne or any other alcoholic beverage on the planet it seemed would be enough to shore up your courage for the answer you received however. For it seemed he wanted you.

Not as a one night stand. Not as some trophy wife he paraded around at corporate functions. Not even as a broodmare to perpetuate his legacy into future generations. No, the reality it seemed was far, far worse. He wanted, as he explained, to love you, marry you and show you the world. He wanted you to remain on as his assistant if you so wished, but he also dreamed of falling asleep beside you every night, waking up in your arms each morning and sitting beside you old and gray on a balcony or porch somewhere as the twilight of your lives settled in and all the years of love and laughter both of you had shared together had proved to him that you indeed were the one. The only soul his own called out to.

Stunned into silence now by this naked and soul displaying confession, your eyes searched his frantically for some sign of lies or deception to trick you into giving him something you were not prepared to bargain away through fancy words and expensive deeds, but what you saw shocked you worse than the cold tendrils of death's touch. He was telling you the truth. For his love was as evident here in this moment as his sincerity had been back in the elevator when he promised to let you leave if you so wished. So what the hell were you supposed to do now?

A one night stand and the possible fallout afterwards might actually have been more preferable now to the path that lay before you here. A roll in the sheets and the stigma that followed, that you could rebound and rebuild from. Move to a different company, a different state. Hell, there was nothing to stop you from simply getting on a plane and starting over in a different country if that's what was left for you. But this? What Johnny had just described? That was a life. A life built on love, memories and two hearts becoming one. One did not just rebuild and recover from the loss of something like that and you honestly didn't think you were brave enough to find out if you could. But what option then did that leave you? Were you brave enough either to walk away from even the possibility of such a thing?

Sensing now that perhaps your mind was somehow winning out over your heart and therefore talking you out of something he desperately longed for, Johnny took your hand in his once more and waited now for your attention to slip fully back to him before he spoke again. "Please, I've told you what I'm thinking and honestly my feelings for you form the basis of all that. I love your smile, your laugh. I love how kind and compassionate you are to everyone you work with, without being a doormat. Hell, I even love how you handle the clients, even the smarmy ones, while still retaining your dignity and decorum," he stated and though you wanted to remind him that Francine for example also possessed those same qualities, something told you he wasn't finished, so you held your tongue and allowed him to continue.

"But most of all, I love how you have never let the gossip of the office dictate your opinion of me, as I see so many others have," he finished and in that moment you caught a glimpse of what you thought was genuine hurt flit across his features and it actually saddened you. For you alone had seen a different side of him, you had merely been too busy work wise to give it any sort of romantic value.

You had been there after all for the toy drives he had organized and funded from his own personal finances with the proviso that no public trace ever lead back to him. You had helped sort out paid leave for staff members above and beyond that which was covered in their employment contracts on his authorization whenever he deemed it wholly necessary. Hell, you had even been part of a meeting with Francine and Steve Rogers three months back when the two C.E.O.s had pooled their resources and called in a handful of favors to ensure that one of their longtime employees would not lose their home due to a health crisis that threatened to wipe them out financially as well as medically.

All this again with the stipulation that no one ever found out. A good deed was its own reward seemed to be his motto and now it appeared it was more than that. It was a way of life for him. A kindness embedded deep in every fiber of his being and one, if you were truly honest with yourself, endeared him to you on a human level. So why then couldn't you tell him this? Was it really a fear of things falling apart? Or worse yet, was it the fear that the more time he spent with you outside of work, the more he would realize you were never truly worthy of his love to begin with? You didn't get to figure this answer out however when Johnny broke your thought pattern once more, as seemed to be his super power, and asked you now to simply tell him what your heart felt. And that it seemed did the trick and broke the dam wide open on all that you had ignored these past five years.

For you did indeed love him also. You loved his looks, you loved his business skills and sense of humor, but as he had just described of you, you loved the heart he tried so hard to hide away from the world and as these exact words tumbled from your lips, you knew now which path your future lay on when hours later as your naked bodies lay cuddling for warmth in Johnny's bed, the life he spoke of earlier called both of you now into its waiting embrace. And given all that you knew about him and what your body had just experienced beneath his sheets, walking away from him had stopped being an option when your orgasmic haze had died away and the love you indeed felt for each other was all that remained to carry you onwards. For you couldn't live without him and, where this thought had once terrified you, it now brought you a future you reached out for and grabbed hold of with a newfound certainty that everything was finally right with your world.

#soft!CEO Johnny Storm x Reader #christmas 2024

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year ago

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LOVE your writing. Can you write a Christmas themed Luke Danes fic?

hello, thank you! merry christmas all!

summary - you go to luke's diner on christmas morning and exchange gifts.

the gif and dividers I use aren't mine.

You walked through the town, happily wishing everyone a good morning and a merry Christmas. Your dress flows around your legs as your pull your cardigan tighter around you. You grin as you enter the diner, hearing the soft chime of the bell. Luke’s diner had been decked out with Christmas decorations, all thanks to you and your convincing ways.

“Good Morning, Luke!” You skip over, leaning against the counter as you look up at the large man. “Merry Christmas!” You turn, reaching into your bag, pulling out a small box. “I know you said no presents, but I’m calling bullshit.” You smirk, handing over the gift.

Luke shakes his head. “Morning, and you are lucky because I ignored my rule too.” He reaches underneath the counter and pulls out a rectangular box, sliding it over as he grabs the one you are extending. “And… Merry Christmas.” He grunts, unwrapping the box and pulling the lid off, he looks up and stares at you. “Seriously?”

You grin, shrugging. “I knew how upset you were when your uncle was buried with his baseball cards, and I saw these and…” You let out a squeak as he walks around the counter and pulls you into a hug, burying his face into your hair.

“Thank you.” He pulls back, blinking his eyes rapidly to keep the tears away. “Now, open yours…”

You smile and unwrap your present, gasping as you pull out a necklace and a pair of earrings that you pointed out a while ago when his sister came to town. “Oh my god, Luke! Thank you!” You jump, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing him tight.

Luke grunts again before moving back around the counter and going into the kitchen without a word. You tilt your head, confused. “Luke?”

“Hold up!” He walks back out with a plate full of gingerbread biscuits, mini gingerbread houses, Christmas decorated donuts and cupcakes. “I made these for you.” He gently places the plate down and your smile widens. Luke rolls his eyes, unable to contain his smile. “Stop looking at me like that, it’s nothing.”

You smirk. “Mmhm, Luke Danes is the sweetest guy in town.”

He points, glaring. “Don’t go spreading that around, people might expect it.”

You place a hand on your chest. “Cross my heart.” You reach over and grab a biscuit, biting into it as you stare up at him. “Oh my god, this tastes really good, Luke.”

A soft blush covers his cheeks as he watches you enjoy his baking, even tasting some as you place it against his lips. The camera pans out, showcasing the two friends that are secretly in love with each other.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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arrolyn1114 · 9 months ago

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Yes, same here! Ask away!

Reblog if you write fic and people can inbox you random-ass questions about your stories, itemized number lists be damned.

#ask away #ask game #inbox open #reader feedback #Feedback is like Christmas morning seriously #Fanfic is a community activity. Its stories by a bonfire #fanfiction #Fanfic #Fanfic writers #fanfic authors #Fanfic readers #ao3

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browneyedjoe · 2 years ago

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so, a cheeky and honestly filthy (for me) joe blurb. very much inspired by @lovejosephquinn recent blurb re their horny christmas eve morning thoughts. but okay, seriously, let’s imagine -:

p.s. also inspired by the 5 mimosas i've had in the last hour and my thought process after seeing this video.

p.p.s. this is officially the first smut i've written and i'm stressed because i'm very particular about the smut i read so any feedback is appreciated.

merry crisis, ya'll

it’s very early morning, the sun not yet risen but the sky a light shade of midnight blue. you’re peacefully asleep, duvet wrapped around your partially naked body and your hair, splayed on your pillow as if you were a mermaid underwater. you feel a shift, physically, a gentle yet repetitive knock that undulates your body back and forth. your sleep, lightly disturbed, but you decide to ignore it, subconsciously acknowledging it was too early to be awake. it happens again; something, or albeit, someone rocking softly side to side. your eyes scrunch - alright, you’re definitely awake now. with your back facing joe, you assume he’s gotten up to get a glass of water or to use the loo. but now, with your mind wide awake, you hear it - the melodic rhythm of quiet moans that escape the full lips of your boyfriend. you couldn’t believe your luck. slowly, you turn around as if you’re rousing from a dream and not perturbed by the fact that joe is ‘discreetly’ rubbing his erection with a lazy hand, under some dreamy impression that you don’t have any idea what he’s doing. “fucking h-“ joe exhales, accompanied with a sound of slick; you picture his hand, the palm of it covered in a mix of spit and precum, jutting up and down his hard cock. you think of the shine of rubies, synonymous with the colour of the head of his dick and the red of his lips, the bottom of which is being bitten, trapping shut any harsh breaths and filthy words so desperately trying to escape. smirking with your eyes close, you wrap an arm around the lower part of his hip, pelvis thrusting, you feel the rise and fall of his gut. the air is trapped there and fucking hell, joe is really trying his hardest now to not make it obvious that he’s seconds away from coming. “thinking of that cunt, fuck-please” and you feel your own slick start to pool between your legs. could you get away with squeezing your thighs together to get some relief? maybe? god, know knows…you’ve been here before, half asleep until joe is walking next to you without a second thought that it’s 3am. he’s shaking now, breathing uneven and stilted. this is when he starts gripping the swollen head of his cock, his other hand quickly grabbing at his balls and then reaching out to touch the softness of your body. “jesus, gonna c-cum”. your hand, which was still precariously laid atop his hip, starts to squeeze the bone there, and he knows - fuck, he knows you’re awake and within an instant, he gets up onto his knees, tossing the duvet off to expose your chest and with a few more jerks, he’s spilling his load all over your breasts. his release is loud and finite, like the pop of a balloon at a birthday party. joe is squeezing your left breast, pinching at the nipple when he finishes milking his cock. you hear him chuckle, “i know your were awake as soon as you turned over”. joe flops his body back down on the bed, neck to you and lowers his hand to your covered cunt, pulling the material to the side to push his index into the wet, “did you enjoy yourself, you little creep?”. you feel his smirk against your lips as he kisses you hastily. he knows you love hearing him with himself; the voyeurist in you completely satisfied with what has transpired. joe’s cum still adorns your skin, letting it settle there whilst he dip a finger into you, then two, then three, and then he kisses you again - so fucking hard - “let’s take care of this, shall we?”.

#joseph quinn #joe quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #joe quinn smut #joseph quinn rpf #joe quinn rpf #lol it's almost 11pm here in australia #christmas is tomorrow but really #this IS my christmas present #my writing

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yagrldariv · 2 years ago

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Husband! Henry Cavill x Doctor!Reader Headcanon

As request by anon. Hope you like! Send me feedback?

Pure fluff, no other warnings. Henry is such husband material.

If there was one thing Henry was, it was dedicated.

Whether it be books, a new role, gaming or even you.

Whenever there was something in front of him, he was learning everything he could to bring exactly what was needed.

When you first met, you were just about to start your residency.

You were in the bookstore, trying to find some light reading when you ran into him.

He spotted you before you had a chance to look his way.

You were in the section adjacent to him, head stuck in a book. Cue the cartoon rotating heart crown circling his head in that moment.

Your bottom lip was pulled between your teeth and your brows were furrowed, deeply engrossed in the text.

Normally Henry tries to be very respectful and leaves people alone, but everything in him was screaming to go talk to you.

“Sorry to bother, but is that seat occupied?” He pointed to the brown leather chair opposite you.

“No, it’s all yours”.

“Wonderful,” he sat, “best seat in the shop”.

The rest of the day you spent talking, books long forgotten.

That day in the bookstore, Henry decided he was going to marry you. He saw how passionate you were about medicine and helping people and it lit something in him.

For the rest of your break, you spent almost every day with him.

I just know before he’s halfway through the day he’s already planning where he’s taking you tomorrow.

The closer you got to your residency the worse you began to worry that your schedule would ruin what you had.

Henry was absolutely clear he would never feel like you were choosing your career instead of him.

Henry knew all too well what it meant to work hard for years towards a career that you loved.

He absolutely admired knowing he could share the feeling of working long grueling hours, putting absolutely everything into your work just to do it all the next day.

Once you moved in with him your last year he was so willing to take care of you wherever he could. (Which means literally everywhere)

He definitely is the type to pop by the hospital for your break and bring you a homemade meal (this is also a great excuse for him to you in your scrubs)

And pls when the time comes for you to take your boards-he’s so doting it’s insane.

He stays up late nights, with you while you study, index cards in hand as his quizzes you.

He runs countless cups of coffee back in forth from the kitchen.

And when you find out you passed, no one is happier than him (tbh not even you).

Two weeks later he proposes.

Henry honestly even sweeter as a husband. (If that’s possible)

He takes the title extremely seriously too let’s be real.

He’s so giddy when he finally got to introduce himself as your husband at the hospital Christmas party.

When you’re on call he never hesitates to take over and care for you.

I’m talking cooking you dinner, packing your lunches, getting up before you to make you coffee in the morning.

Also you can fight me on this but Henry is definitely the old school type to take your car for all the regular maintenance without you having to ask or remind him.

He always wanted to make sure you felt supported in your choices and that you wouldn’t have to juggle everything, you could just focus.

On bad days, he’s meeting you at the door with his signature bear hug.

He’s washing your hair in the shower, telling you how much you mean to him before tucking into bed with you in his arms.

And to Henry, at the end of the day, all that mattered was that you were extremely happy with your life. He was set for eternity by your side.

#henry cavill #henry cavill headcanon #henry cavill x reader #d writes #request #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill smut #husband!henrycavill

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arrolyn1114 · 1 year ago

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"comments and explicitly voiced appreciation are what keep writers going."

It is absolutely what keeps us going.

when ao3 is back up i want all of you to leave comments on the fics you were interrupted from reading, the fics you were looking to find, the fics you were thinking about re-reading, and the fics left open in your tabs for months now.

when ao3 is back up, i want you all to show some love to your favourite writers, favourite fics, or even just the 600 word one-shot that brought a smile to your face that tuesday three weeks ago.

when ao3 is back up i want you all to remember that comments and explicitly voiced appreciation are what keep writers going.

#writing community #creative writing #fanfic is a community activity. its stories by a bonfire #fanfic writers #fanfic #writers #ao3 #writing #fanfiction #reader feedback #Feedback is like Christmas morning seriously

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twostepstyless · 2 years ago

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The H-Bomb

Fic Advent Calendar Day 12

Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Author’s Note: Y/N is stuck in the queue for the post office while on the phone to Harry and considers a way to let her skip the queue

As always, likes, reblogs and feedback of all and any variety is greatly appreciated - G <3

Word Count: 1.1k

———

“H, this is bloody awful,” Y/N’s voice crackled down the phone. Harry had just called, the pair had left the house at the same time this morning and he was surpised to see Y/N wasn’t back when he was.

“Where are you?” Harry had the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he unclipped their dog Vinnie from his leash and began to towel dry his paws before Vinnie ran off to get some water.

“Still in the post office, the queue is mental H,” she sighed before adding quietly, so as no one around her heard what she whispered, “and I keep letting the little old people skip me so they can collect their pension.” Harry cackled down the phone at Y/N’s overly kind nature. “It’s jus’ cold Harry and they don’t need to be hanging about in queues all day,” she justified as she waved another old dear in front of her even if it meant she had been in the post office for nearing 20 minutes

“You just let another one skip, didn’t you?” she could hear Harry’s smile down the phone.

“…Yeah,” Y/N sighed at herself.

“Y/N/N, the oldies are going to start a club to take the piss out of your kindness, they must think you’ve got ‘mug’ written across y’forehead,” Harry laughed, as he pottered around in the kitchen, cleaning up their mess from breakfast.

“I can’t believe how busy it is in here,” Y/N finally moved forward a place in the queue, inching closer to the parcel sending service.

“It’s less than two weeks until Christmas, m’heart, of course it’s busy,” Harry had tried to gently urge her to post what she needed to send earlier but she never took notice of his coaxing.

“I know that. M’just looking for a little bit of sympathy,” Y/N had even given up on holding onto the bag that held the gifts she was sending to various family members who she wouldn’t see over the festive season, now just kicking it along the floor every time she crawled forward an inch in the monotonous queue, not even the tat they tried selling around the perimeter of the queue was keeping her entertained.

“Sorry baby, I’m fresh out of sympathy when I tried to get you to send everything last week,” Harry snickered.

“You’re an arsehole,” she pouted, no malice detected in her words, but the older lady she let cut her in line definitely looked over her shoulder, disapproving of Y/N’s language. “Y’know I procrastinate,” Y/N whined.

“I’m your arsehole though,” Harry tried to flirt.

“That’s not as romantic as y’think it sounds, my love,” Y/N giggled, this time managed to push the bag forward with her shoe at least 2 feet as the queue shuffled forward.

“D’you want me to come pick you up?” Harry asked, already reaching for a set of car keys, even if she said no, he’d still go get her, “it looks like it’s going to snow,” he peered out the kitchen window, seeing the sky swirl with heavy-looking white clouds.

“Please,” she begged, “I think my legs would give out before I walked home after standing here for so long,” the ticking of the big, oversized clock in the post office was starting to grate on her. “Will Vinnie be alright with you leaving him?” she asked after the dog.

“Me an’ him have just come back from a big walk round the park,” Harry went into the living room to check on the sleepy golden retriever, “the boy’s sparko, he’ll not even hear me leave,” Harry shoved his feet back in shoes he’d kicked off when he came home.

“Do you think if I drop an H-bomb, they’ll let me skip the queue?” Y/N asked, seriously.

“Sorry? Drop an ‘H-bomb,’ what the fuck is an H-bomb?” Harry questioned, pausing by the front door.

“If I say y’name, do you think they’ll let me skip?” she asked again, giggling.

“What?” Harry cackled, “have you done that before?”

There was a long pause on the other end of the call.

“Y/N!”

“It was one time, and I desperately needed the loo, I wasn’t a diva about it or anythin’ honest!” she giggled trying to explain the story, as she heard Harry laughing and muttering ‘unbelievable’ under his breath. “I just slipped it into conversation,” she finalised.

“Well for some reason, I don’t think the pensioners in the post office care much about an H-bomb, gorgeous,” Harry laughed.

“I don’t know, I reckon you’re a hit in the care homes.”

“Oh, hush, how far from the front are you? If I leave now, am I going to be waiting ages?” Harry questioned, trying to figure out in his head where he could park without getting a ticket for idling.

“Not far, should be done by the time you get here, I hope,” Y/N wasn’t miles off the front now and had picked up her bag of presents to hand to the post person when she got to the window.

“As long as y’don’t let old Wilma from 4 doors down skip you when she shuffles in,” Harry locked their front door and paused listening for any disgruntled barks from Vinnie before hearing nothing and making his way to the car.

“Exactly,” Y/N said, with a smile evident in her tone.

“Do hurry, there’s another package waiting for you here,” Harry said with a suggestive lilt in his voice.

“Oooh, what is it?” Y/N queried, missing the undertone to his comment.

“I’d tell you, but you’ll need to find it, it’s in m’pants,” Harry said, straight to the point, sliding his key into the ignition, foot on the clutch to start the engine.

“Harry Styles! That is vile,” she laughed loudly before slapping a hand over her mouth, realising what she had said.

“That’ll be the H-bomb dropped then,” Harry snorted, putting his phone on speaker so he could put it down to start his drive.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, it slipped out,” Y/N said nervously as she saw some eyes turn to look at her. “Oh my god, Harry, they’ve opened another window and they’re waving me forward to go first, shit, that’s so fucking embarrassing,” she whispered-yelled down the phone as she could hear Harry’s tittering laugh come down the phone.

“Well, m’glad you got some benefit out of the H-bomb,” he chuckled, “I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?”

“Fuck off, that’s so embarrassing. Right, oh my god I need to go before I make it worse, see you in a second, gorgeous,” Y/N sighed hanging up the phone before sorting out her face to talk to the person behind the glass.

“Hi, I’d like to send these first class, please.”

———

Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #one direction fanfiction #one direction #harry styles oneshot #harry imagine #twostepstyless advent calendar #harry styles christmas #harry styles comfort

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earthtoharlow · 2 years ago

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Sunday Kinda Of Love

chapter 4

AN: Shorter chapter, probably will be the last update until after Christmas. Work is getting really busy but enjoy!! Feedback is always welcome:)

Previous chapters

I hate the sound of the iPhone alarm.

It’s truly one of the world’s worst sounds, which is why I never set an alarm on my phone. I slowly open my eyes and blink the sleep away and slowly realize that I’m not back at my apartment. I was still under the pillow fort at Y/N’s place. We must have fallen asleep last night after watching the movie. I looked over and noticed Y/N, who was sleeping curled up next to me slightly. Her hair, which was normally straight, was starting to turn into light waves from being slept on all night. She looked beautiful. I was interrupted from my thoughts when that stupid alarm went off again.

Without disturbing Y/N while she slept I felt around for the phone. I was slightly confused when I found the phone in the bowl where we had the popcorn, nevertheless I grabbed it and turned off the alarm that was obviously set to wake Y/N up to get Brooklyn ready for school. Looking at her, I hated to wake her up. She looked so peaceful.

“Y/N” I whispered softly, and gently placed a hand on her. She let out a soft moan and continued to sleep. I said her name again slightly above a whisper, hoping she would hear me this time. Luckily, she did. My breath almost got stuck in my throat when she opened her beautiful brown eyes. She blinked slightly and looked at me.

“Urban?” She says my name softly, and sits up looking around. I give her a tired smile before saying “Morning? I guess we both fell asleep last night while watching the movie”

She let out the smallest of giggles “yeah, I guess we did huh?”

We laid in the fort enjoying the quiet early morning, the sun hadn’t even risen yet. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, I noticed y/n playing with her finger suddenly nervous, before I could mention it she started to speak.

“Urban, I had a really great time with you last night, I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun during movie night. I’d love to hang out with you again, maybe without Brooklyn?” I smiled a little hearing her say she had a great time and wanted to go on an actual date. I guess I was staring at her for too long without saying anything because she started rambling.

“Sorry if that was weird to say, that was totally too straightforward, I mean I practically still a stranger—“

I tried cutting her off by calling her name but she was too busy rambling

“Y/N.” I said trying again.

“I’m a single mother, I know that’s a lot of pressure to put on you, especially since you travel, seriously Urban I’m so sorry ignore the fact that I even asked—“

I did the only thing I could think of to shut her up,

I kissed her

I could hear the small gasp come from Y/N as my lips connected with hers, before she let out a moan almost just as fast and kissed me back. Her arms wrapped around me, playing with the curls at the back of my neck. The kiss ended seconds later, Y/N pulling away first, her fingers touching her lips like she couldn’t believe what just happened.

That might’ve been the best kiss in all my years on earth, I know I’m only 24 but damn, I could kiss her for the rest of my life and never get bored.

“I’m sorry, you just wouldn’t stop talking. I guess I know where Brooklyn gets her rambling from.” I cheekily say with a grin

Y/N let’s out the cutest giggle before shoving me lightly.

“Shut up, I hope you know that that won’t be happening until at least the third date.” Y/N says matter of factly before laying back down, silently deciding Brooklyn could miss one day of preschool.

“1 down, 2 more to go then.”

#jack harlow #urban wyatt #urban wyatt blurb #urban wyatt social media au #urban wyatt x y/n #urban wyatt x reader

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readyplayerhobi · 3 years ago

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Queen of Ice | 06

; Bodyguard!Jungkook x Princess!Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst

; Word Count: 3k

; Synopsis: Jeon Jungkook is the best water magic user of his generation, so it made sense that he was given the prestigious posting as a royal bodyguard. His position puts him close to you, the Crown Princess of Sejong and the only ice magic user in history. Jungkook is great at protecting you from danger, but not so much at protecting his own heart.

; A/N: A Christmas chapter, with nothing Christmas themed in the chapter itself haha. It’s a little longer (a tiny bit) but...hopefully you all enjoy it! Please reblog and leave feedback in the form of comments or asks, I love to hear your opinions and it encourages me to write more of this!

; Previous - Next

Integrating Yoongi and Jisoo into the rota takes more effort than Jungkook would have liked, but after two months, he finally feels like it’s returning to normality. Hoseok and Jimin are loving the extra time to themselves whilst Jungkook feels far less stress than he had before. As far as he’s aware, Jimin has had at least four courtship meetings with the woman he’s interested in whilst Hoseok and Taehyung have arranged to visit the children at the orphanage.

The increased number of guards also means that Jungkook has finally been able to finagle his way into getting a three-person entourage whenever you leave the castle. It had been something you’d resisted for so long, and you’d been able to use the fact that you only had three guards in total to stonewall his efforts.

But now? Well, you hadn’t been able to argue with him when even having three people with you would mean that two would be engaging in free time.

You’d given in to his demands with a pout and narrowed eyes, fully aware of how he’d backed you into a corner. It had left him more than a little smug, but the security he felt with an extra person helping when out was worth all the arguments he’d had with you.

What he wasn’t happy with, was the fact that you’d also demanded he takes more time to himself as well. Jungkook had protested against your request hotly, unwilling to relieve himself of his sworn duties when he did not need any extra free time. Yet, like so many things, he’d found himself relenting and agreeing to your demands.

Unsurprisingly, it left him more anxious at the knowledge you weren’t being protected by him. He had complete faith in the others, but not knowing what was going on with you left a knot in his stomach.

It was childish of him to get so grumpy over it, yet he still threw a little tantrum back in his room after he’d agreed to your request. Without anyone else to see it, of course. No one would ever take the head guard seriously if they’d seen the size of his pout at not being allowed to work more.

Jimin thought he was being ridiculous and had encouraged him to explore some potential courting options. Jungkook was considered quite the catch to most of the unmarried men and women of the town that surrounded the castle. That had come as a surprise to him, but Jimin had pointed out that he was young, attractive, in great shape with a respectable job.

It made sense of course, but he had no interest or wish to get involved with someone. He was perfectly fine with the occasional sex he got, which admittedly wasn’t much. Jungkook was far more acquainted with his hand than anyone else but he was content with that so far. His libido wasn’t as rampant as Jimin’s, so he was alright with what he got.

Today was, unfortunately, one of his off-shifts which meant he’d had to try and figure out what to do for the day. He’d had a lie-in, sleeping a whole extra two hours, before spending another three hours in the training room and then enjoying a hearty lunch at a pub in the heart of town.

As nice as his relaxed morning had been, it meant that he had nothing to do for the afternoon. Which was why he was currently laid on one of the luxurious sofas dotted around the large library located in the corner of the castle, a book about the history of Sejong in his hands and held above his face.

It wasn’t interesting, but it was just the first book he’d grabbed off the shelf.

What Jungkook had discovered on his days off, was that his life was exceptionally boring outside of his job. His friends consisted mostly of his colleagues, his romantic life was non-existent and he didn’t have any hobbies either. It had been surprising for him to realise that he was concerned about his lack of interest in life outside of work, and logically he knew that it was simply because he hadn’t had time to develop his personality outside of being a guard.

He’d never known his father, with the man dying before he was even born in a barn fire, and his mother had died when he’d been only eight years old. Jungkook had been sent to an orphanage afterwards where he spent the next five years of his life. At thirteen, the head of the palace guard had taken him to be trained due to his strong affinity with water magic and he’d spent three years learning how to protect, defend and attack.

Jungkook had been the youngest person to ever join the guard, at only sixteen years of age. Long hours of standing around in silence had been his life now for thirteen years, of which seven had been spent protecting you.

So who was Jeon Jungkook outside of his job? He didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure how to start finding himself. At twenty-nine, he had no idea how to go about developing normal hobbies or interests without seeming strange.

Still, he knew that he at least enjoyed reading and he’d probably enjoy it more right now if he had a more interesting book to read. History was not a favourite topic of his, so why he was trying to persevere with this utterly boring book was beyond him.

Maybe he should try painting? Taehyung liked to paint in his free time, so maybe he could teach Jungkook how to do it? Surely it couldn’t be that hard? Or maybe he could learn to play chess with Hoseok or take up ballroom dancing with Jimin?

Sighing, he drops the book to his chest and closes his eyes.

How did people normally find things they were good at? All he knew was that he was good at protecting and hurting, not entirely a good conversation starter with people.

“That was quite a sigh.”

Jungkook twitches at the voice that interrupts the hallowed silence of the library before he jerks upright when he recognises the voice. Half sitting up, he looks towards the entrance and swallows when he sees you making your way over.

Black jodhpurs adorn your legs whilst black riding boots cling to your legs, ending at the knee. A fitted white shirt is buttoned to the neck and an elegant purple and silver waistcoat adds a subtle pop of colour that all combines to create a rather stunning image. To him, anyway.

You’ve been out riding and casual, he wonders if you’d taken your newest horse. The beautiful Selinka mare was well trained but had quite a temperament, leading to you being thrown off more than once when she decided that she didn’t want to ridden that day. Still, you were determined to bond with the pretty grey mare and he wondered if today had been a good day or if you’d instead ridden your trusty Jeju gelding.

Either way, he certainly hadn’t expected to see you and for a moment, he panics over his casual attire. Unlike the usual guard’s uniform he wore, today he had a long-sleeved black shirt with the collar high up his neck and plain black trousers with some boots. To Jimin’s eternal shame, Jungkook’s wardrobe consisted of shades of black with a few shades of grey to add some colour.

Jungkook had never felt concerned about this until now though, and he curses silently at how distinctly un-fashionable he looks next to you.

His second thought is to scan the area for any potential dangers, his job so ingrained into him that it was natural, alongside a slight frown when he doesn’t note either Jisoo or Hoseok entering the room behind you. It was a breach of protocol and his mouth thins, wondering what they were playing at.

As if sensing his thoughts, you laugh softly before sitting on the sofa next to him. You’re a little stiff, with your posture just as prim and proper as you’d been taught as a child but he senses there’s something else as well. He’s also uncomfortable, but probably not for the reasons you are.

Posture wasn’t ever something he’d had to concern himself with, or at least not in a situation that didn’t involve fighting.

“Don’t worry, I asked them to stay outside when I saw you were in here. I know it’s your day off but I do not doubt that you’ll be vigilant whilst I’m here. I have complete faith that you’ll protect me in the scary library from any potential threats.” There’s more than a little hint of laughter threaded into your words and he recognises immediately that you’re teasing him.

Sucking on his cheek, he contemplates being offended before sighing deeply and nodding.

“You are correct. You’ll be safe with me.”

There’s a slightly odd look on your face at his words before you smile graciously, dipping your head in acknowledgement before settling back against the sofa in a much more relaxed manner. Your visible comfort at being around him causes him to settle a little more as well, licking his lips a little nervously before reaching for the book he’d dropped to the floor.

You’d realised he’d dropped it at the same time and reach for it as well. Before he can stop himself, his hand accidentally grasps yours whilst you get a solid grip on the book. The feeling of your warm skin beneath his fingers, so velvety soft in a way he’d never understand, causes him to jerk away like he’d been burnt.

Glancing at your face, he sees your eyes wide in shock and immediately starts to blurt out an apology, afraid you were angry he’d dared to touch you.

“I am so sorry, Your Highness. I didn’t-I didn’t mean to touch you, I was reaching for the book and then you-” Sitting up, you carefully hand him the book before looking him over carefully. The contemplative look in your eyes has him spluttering out more apologies, his cheeks blushing a fierce red whilst his fingers rub at his ear lobe in a combination of anxiety and embarrassment.

Despite the internal panic he’d undergoing, you simply give him a gentle smile before reaching forward and resting a hand on his forearm. The heat of you shuts him up immediately and he stares at the limb almost dumbly, as if he’s never seen a hand before in his life. Just as that thought passes through his mind, he realises he’s being incredibly stupid and swallows hard before giving you a weak smile.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. Don’t worry about it, I’m not going to spontaneously combust. Despite what some people may think, I’m not on a knife’s edge about to turn someone into ice at any moment.” Your lips twitch at your words, but he sees the shadow in your eyes.

“I don’t think that. People just don’t know you well.”

He doesn’t mean to blurt that out, but he feels a small spark of pride as he watches you smile bashfully, a hand covering your mouth as you look away. It makes him want to say it over and over again, to shower you with all the praise and compliments he can until you only think positive thoughts. As long as you’ll look happy like that again.

“Thank you, that’s just because you know me though.”

“No it isn’t, it’s the truth. If you weren’t a kind and warm person then you wouldn’t have put that good word in for Hoseok and Taehyung at the orphanage. Or donated all those clothes and blankets to the poorest in town for the coming winter, or given away a portion of the castle’s food stores to the children for the harvest festival. People just don’t want to see what’s right in front of them.” He wants to continue, but he stops himself and instead observes your reaction. For a moment, you’re silent before letting out a deep sigh and tracing invisible images on your thigh.

“I don’t expect the love of the people, I am their ruler after all. What’s fair about having someone ruling over everyone else? But I’m trying to make it fairer for everyone. People just focus on the negatives and not the positives. Hopefully, it will change, but for now, I try not to let it bother me.” Jungkook wonders what kind of strength you must have to be so magnanimous, even to those who dislike you and disparage your name.

He knows that he wouldn’t have the same kind of strength.

“Anyway, I didn’t know you frequented the library. Or that you were interested in history.” Glancing down to the book in his lap, you raise one eyebrow in question at him.

“Errr, I’m not. And I don’t. But I was bored and just thought I’d read something. The first book I grabbed, a mistake on my behalf.” Chuckling awkwardly, he rubs the back of his neck before leaning forward to place the book onto the solid wood table situated next to the sofa.

“You should try the fiction section, it’s much more interesting. At the risk of ruining my ice persona, there are some beautiful romance stories that you might want to try. They’re far more interesting than this, which is probably more suitable to being used as kindling for a fire.” Pointing towards a section of the library, he follows your gaze and lets out a quiet ‘oh’.

An awkward silence falls between you both and he wonders what to say, or if he should even say anything at all. You’d come here for a reason and he was probably intruding in your own free time.

“Your hands are quite rough, if you don’t mind me saying so,” Leaning over slightly, you gesture to his hands with raised brows and gently take one when he gives a confused nod. “Is this what all the guard’s hands are like? From all your training?”

The question is innocent, but he can’t quite find the brainpower to think of an answer. Not when your fingertips trace so lightly along the palm of his hand before tracing along each of his fingers. It’s alarmingly sensual yet innocent at the same time and he almost yanks his hand back to stop any unfortunate bodily reactions. But almost as if you can tell what he’s thinking, once more, you tighten your grip on his hand.

Raising your brows at him once more, he clears his throat awkwardly before finding an answer for you.

“Yes, we train a lot. For years. Mine are probably worse than others, I’ve trained since I was thirteen.” Carefully, he extracts his hand from your own before giving an awkward smile. Clenching his fist tightly, he struggles to swallow down the shame at the rough skin and callouses that make up his large hand, a complete contrast to the soft skin of your own. Despite the training you had also undergone, you’d received the highest quality of care from your entourage of maids and help to keep your hands in the condition expected of a princess.

“Thirteen? That’s young, though I’ve always thought you were young for your rank.” Twisting his lips, he nods before taking a deep breath.

“Yes, I’m only four years older than you. But I was recruited straight from the orphanage, my water magic has always been exceptionally strong and the guard wanted to use my abilities. So this life is what I’ve known and…well my hands reflect it, I guess.” Running his fingers along the palm of his left hand, he wonders what it would be like to have led a life that would require no callouses or cuts or bruises.

“I’m sorry, that’s not how someone so young should have spent their youth. But I am glad you’re here now, I can’t imagine my life without you now.”

Jungkook is positive that you have no idea what your words do to him, the way his stomach flips and excitement fizzes in his veins. It’s the highest praise you could have ever given him and he wants to thank you, as silly as it sounds. You don’t mean it in the way a small part of him wishes you did, the part that dreams a life he could never have, but he’ll take it.

The silence returns, but he doesn’t feel it’s quite as oppressive as before. Something seems to have changed and he’s not quite sure what. Despite his confusion, he’s not opposed to it though. It feels almost pleasant like it was a positive change.

Suddenly, you’re carefully taking his hand once more. This time though, there’s almost a strange sense of reverence in the way you touch him. As if the roughness of his skin is a new wonder in the world. For a moment, he ponders taking his hand away as he realises that he feels a little overwhelmed at the sudden change between you both. Jungkook almost feels like he has to process what’s happened.

And then you do something that almost makes him choke on air. Carefully, you slide your hand along his own, palm to palm, until both hands are resting perfectly against each other. He has no idea what to do, there’s no protocol about what to do when the Crown Princess of Sejong is resting her hand on your own. Then his mind fractures into fireworks when you slowly interlink your fingers with his own.

If there’s no protocol about what to do when you rest your hand on his, then there’s certainly nothing in the training handbook about what to do when you hold his hand. Because that’s what you’re doing, in the silence of the vast library.

The Crown Princess of Sejong is quietly holding the hand of her favourite bodyguard. And he can’t find it in himself to let go, not when your touch feels so lovely. He’ll deal with the repercussions later, for now…he just lets himself enjoy it.

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