#happy will fall in place / & though my heart will break / a new me will fill this space''

[dieverged]

it's so interesting, to me. i can't figure out if nima is sadder in her DA verse comparatively to her ffxiv verse. granted, they are quite different in that within DA she's following from her own timeline & in ffxiv she was already a participant IN the world. but man.

main verse nima just keeps losing i tell you!

[oceantornadoo]

ch7 something borrowed something blue (mafia!price x simon's sister!reader)

tw: oral sex both ways

masterlist | next

John Price thrives on routine. His days are filled with meetings and bloodshed, negotiations and betrayal. Routine keeps him sane.

Unfortunately, that resolution crumbled the moment he gained a wife. It’s getting harder and harder to leave in the morning, to ignore the fluttering of your eyelashes as you feign sleep. That’s what he blames for this break in routine.

The morning after, he stays for ten minutes instead of five. Counts the ticks of the old clock in the corner of his room as he memorizes the scent of your skin. You always end up with your head in the crook of his neck, legs tangled around his torso. He’s never been much of a back sleeper, but now it’s the last thing he cares about. It’s the sound of your breathing, the plushness of your skin, the brush of your chest against his. When he eventually gets up, he doesn’t look at the bed until he’s ready. If he glanced back at your eyes in half-slits, shifting closer to his pillow to soak up the remaining warmth he left in the bed, he would never leave the room. 

At night, though, he succumbs to his weakness. He creates a new routine.

It’s the start of a new week after the getting-off confession. John had business in Glasgow over the weekend, lonely and cold in his hotel bed, but now he’s back.

“So Laswell sent me the contract. I definitely have enough to pay in full, but I’m thinking of paying half and then doing installments for the rest so I can have enough for immediate repairs. What do you-John?” John’s nodding along to your rant, disappearing under the covers to the place he’s been thinking about all weekend. The blanket’s a bit heavy, limiting his breathing, but it’s worth it for the sight of your clothed cunt, waiting for him.

“Keep talkin’, sweetheart.” Instead of following his orders, you peel back the cover until his head peeks out. “What are you doing?” He rubs circles into your thighs, reveling in their softness. John moves upwards, teasing the fabric of your pajama shorts. “You miss me this weekend?” He murmurs, not sure if he’s talking to his wife or her cunt. Both seem happy to see him, if that’s any consolation.

“No, I actually got the best sleep of my- hey!” He shoves his face into the triangle of your lap, sniffing with wonder. “Fuck, I missed ya.” You’re silent at his admission, but your hand finds a hold in his hair. “You did?” It’s soft and unsure, forcing him to rip his focus away from your pussy. “I did.” You bite your lip adorably. You tug him forward, gripping his scalp hard, until his face is in front of yours. 

“Maybe next time, you take me with you.” Absolutely not. He was meeting with a new prospective manufacturer, shady and dangerous. He was not putting you in any sort of danger. John shakes his head, heart clenching as your face falls. “Not the kind of place fer you, baby. Gonna let me eat you out now?” You nod, but your face is still hard with repressed emotion. He kisses your forehead, trailing down to your cheek, then nose. “Give us a kiss then.” It’s the first time you’ve ever kissed him first, the notion sending blood straight to his cock. The kiss is short and sweet. Can’t believe how quickly you’ve gotten him under your spell. Two bloody weeks. He pulls away, a final kiss laid to your jaw. “Keep talkin’. Don’t mind me.”

The new routine continues for weeks. He gets you off a different way every night, from fingers to tongue to plain old grinding. And then he goes to sleep with you tucked to his side, taking care of himself in the morning. John needs you to be the one to ask to fuck, to reciprocate. The alternative leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. Plus, every time he gets you off, you fall asleep immediately, like it’s the only way you’ll go to bed. It’s terribly endearing.

A month in, he starts noticing changes. The furniture in the sitting room, for one. They used to be 18th century relics, designed to make sure a guest didn’t overstay their welcome. Except now they’re eclectic, blue and green against the cream walls. The couches look comfortable, like you could spend a whole day there. The paintings change as well, from Rembrandt to Monet and Picasso. The impressionist works, blues and greens and yellows, work well with the new furniture, making his flat seem like a home. When he asks you, all you do is shrug and say something smart about updating his old man apartment. He leaves bite marks on your thighs that night. 

It’s a beautiful Friday night when John gets home early, around 9. He usually gets text updates from Terrance, your commandeered security guard that Price assigned to you full time, about your movements. You’ll usually get home at 7, but nothing yet. Two hours late. He calls Terrance and gets his voicemail. Highly unusual. Calmly, he presses on your contact's name, and it goes to voicemail. Three times.

Fingers shaking, he calls Kyle.

“Sir?”

“Where is she?”

“Who?”

“My fuckin’ wife, Garrick.”

“Isn’t she with Terrance?” “No one’s answerin’ their goddamn phone.” Gaz sighs on the other end, like this is an inconvenience and not his wife they’re talking about. Keys click, then a mouse, before Gaz answers. “They’re at the bookstore. Been there since this mornin’, sir.” John drags a hand down his face, then grabs the keys to the car he barely uses. 

“Garrick, this is the last time you take more than three seconds t’ know where she is. I want a full team on ‘er at all times. I won’t hesitate t’ assign someone else as my Head of Security, someone who isn’t lettin’ their judgement take over their goddamn job. Copy?” He hasn’t dressed down one of his men, especially Kyle, but he’s tired of the man’s judgement on this marriage. What’s done is done. “Yessir.” John hangs up, too miffed to say goodbye. He’s got a wife to find.

-

Your bookstore is coming along well. It’s been over a month since you’ve been married, a month of John’s fingers and tongue loosening you in more ways than one. You swear you’ve developed stronger thigh muscles, simply from the orgasms he coaxes from you night after night. And then he just goes to sleep. You’ve felt his cock in fleeting touches, brushing against your thigh or hard in his lap as you grind on him. He never takes it out, never drags your hand in that grueling way men do with shady eyes and slimy smirks. Every night, he asks you if you hate him, and every night, your lie convinces him less and less. 

And every night, you think of how adamant he was against you joining him. His insistence that it “wasn’t the kind of place for you.” Your old problem with him has faded, a mess of childhood fears rolled into new ones. In its place are your insecurities, the word bastard floating through your head every time you think of his rejection. The clause in the marriage contract. It rolls together into a simple thought: he doesn’t trust you. That’s why he’s barely let you in on his business, content to stick with late night chats and orgasms. It should be fine, it should be what you wanted, but instead you feel a hollow hole in your heart where the word ‘friends’ lives. Even friends should share their secrets. 

But back to the bookstore. Your new baby. This first month was full of cleaning, dusting out odd corners and greasing creaky door hinges. You listed a hiring notice on online job boards, looking for an assistant to help with the grunt work. Which landed you Phil, a wonderful addition to the team. He was around your age, an American with sandy blond hair. Handsome in a basic way, something you noted and never thought of again. Terrance ran a background check on him, something you gladly consented to, and insisted on helping you interview him. It took a week of recon, but he was officially your new assistant as of two weeks ago. An amazing help around the store, handy with tools. You’d told Phil that you were the daughter of a lord, a minor lie to explain the bodyguard. He shrugged it off, the ex-pat seemingly used to the oddities of London.

Now that the space had been cleared, it was finally time to paint. Terrance insisted that he couldn’t help too much, his main duty too important, but with the help of Phil, you convinced him to paint the walls with you. You all left your phones in the half-fixed office, donning plastic sheets to protect from paint splatter. Your business plan, formed from your downtime during the day and shaped by your late-night conversations with John, was to have a store section and a community section. The community section would be at the front, with a beautiful light blue accent wall, perfect for book influencers. It would be surrounded by comfy couches and warm lighting, complete with a cafe space you intended to build out. Your idea reminded you of the library waiting hours away, with its own fireplace and furniture. You decided to recreate that cozy feeling and bring it to the public.

Farther into the building there would be bigger shelves for rows and rows of books, organized by type. The color scheme was influenced by the one in your home, as you decided to hand paint metal shelves light blues, greens, and yellows. Most would be bought, but you were planning a book drive far out for people to donate old books and get discounts on new ones. It’s an idea you had wanted to do in Manchester but never got around to.

Now that the front of the store was cleared out and bare, it was time to paint. The hours fly by as you paint the light blue wall while Phil and Terrance work on a cream wall on the other side. When you blink, the sun is already down, and your watch is flashing 10PM at you.

“Guys it’s almost ten! I think we ought to lay down the brushes for tonight.” Phil opened his mouth to respond but is cut off by a harsh pounding at the locked front door. It was supposed to be clear, but there was newspaper on all of your windows to prevent the glass from getting paint on it. Frowning, you moved to open the door, but Terrance stopped you with his arm out, his other hand reaching for his gun. “Go into the office, ma’am.” You followed his command reluctantly, Phil following on your heels as you went into the back office. It didn’t have any windows, so it was a space you did not want to be in for a while. Phil looked nervous, running his hand through his hair and tapping his foot on the ground.

“I’m sure it’s fine, Phil. Probably one of the neighbors complaining about our music.” You insisted on a jam session as you painted, blasting music from a speaker you stole from the Castle. “Shady things happen in London no matter what time, boss.” You shrug, picking up your phone to quell your nerves. A glance at your notifications explains everything.

Oh no.

You burst from the office, phone already returning one of your many missed calls. That’s when you ran into your husband, face hitting his hard chest with a harsh oof. “Christ, sweetheart, gave me a near heart attack.” John steadied your shoulders with his large hands, anchoring you in his grip. His brow was furrowed, eyes crinkling in worry as he scanned you up and down like he was looking for injuries. “You didn’t answer-” “Everything good out here?” Fuck. Phil.

“Who are you?” It was a tone you’d never heard come out of John’s mouth. You imagined it was his mafia man voice, gruff and short like he had a better place to be. John shoves you behind him, reaching for his gun. You rolled your eyes, hand covering his to stop a potential shoot-out. 

“John, he’s my-” “Assistant, sir. Good to put a name to the face, I’ve heard a lot about you.” You could practically hear Phil winking, laying on the Southern charm. You wrestled out of John’s grip, stepping out from behind his back. Phil’s hand was out for a handshake, but John hadn’t taken it, scanning the man up and down with suspicious eyes. “Funny, ‘cause I’ve never heard about you.” John tore his gaze away to catch yours, eyes slanted in anger. “I don’t have to tell you everything, John. I’ve got my own life, you know.” He looked almost hurt at your words, which couldn’t be true. Sure, you were fucking, but it’s not like this was a normal marriage. You knew he wouldn’t have wanted Phil working with you, just on the basis of him being a man. You didn’t want to be micromanaged by your own husband, so you simply hadn’t got around to telling him. 

“C’mere.” John tugged you towards the office, his grip hard. You could hear Terrance telling Phil to go home and wait for an update. Probably for the best. You imagined Terrance following him out, then debriefing with John’s driver about how much of an asshole their boss was.

“Why didn’t ya tell me?” John asked, arms crossed and face red. He’d shut the office door but remained standing since there wasn’t any furniture yet. “Because I knew you’d get like this.” You spit out, crossing your arms to mirror his. “Fuckin’ concerned fer the security of my wife? Tha’s a bad reaction?” You took a step back from him, crossing your arms tighter so you could pinch your waist, a reminder to stay strong.

“Controlling and caveman. This is my place of work, John, and you’ve embarrassed me in front of my coworker.” He doesn’t meet your eye, staring at the door so hard it might burst into flames. He looks like a predator ready to pounce, muscles trembling from restraint. “Ya don’t realize how many enemies I have. Every person needs t’ be checked.” Did he think you were stupid? “I had Terrance check him out. I know you don’t want me around your work, but I’m not an idiot, John.”

His rejection of your offer to travel with him weeks ago had stung more than you cared to admit. He clearly didn’t trust you, only seeing you as someone to fuck around with. You didn’t realize how far that lack of trust went.

“He should’ve reported it to Gaz.” John mutters. “He did. I know that for a fact.” John ran a hand through his hair, then dipped down to tug at his tie. “He didn’t fuckin’ tell me. Christ, he’s worse than I thought.” You wanted to ask what that meant, but you bit your lip instead. He obviously didn’t want to tell you.

“Look, I know I’m a bastard and you had that goddamn clause in the contract, but you can trust me. I’m not running around behind your back.” That got John’s gaze to snap back to you, eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Tha’s wha’ ya think this is about?” You nod, suddenly unsure. “Sweetheart, that was Gaz’s idea. T’ see if you’d argue. I intended for you to ask fer another cheatin’ clause fer me, but ya didn’t so I let it go. ‘S nothin’ like tha’. Plus, I didn’t know ya then. I know ya now.” Oh.

“So you trust me?” What about the trip? You wanted to ask, but you figure that would show your hand too much. John nods slowly, uncrossing his hands to put them on his hips. “Don’t care tha’ yer a bastard. ‘M not fuckin’ anyone else, either. I’m just concerned fer yer safety.” He takes a few steps towards you, gauging your reaction to see if you step back. You don’t, uncrossing your arms and praying they don’t shake. He grabs your hands in his own, blue eyes swimming with openness. There are so many things you want to ask him about: your childhood, his father, the future. They all fall to the wayside when he leans down to kiss you, a gentle brush of his lips against yours. “If I didn’t trust ya, ya wouldn’t sleep in my bed.” He kisses your forehead, then cheek, before pulling back. “I need ya t’ believe me.” He demands it seriously. A sudden rush of affection hits your heart. He looks so truthful, so concerned, and you want to show him that same care back.

You lower to your knees. John steps back, unsure. “Sweetheart, ya don’t have to.” You shake your head, beckoning him to come near. “I want to.”

John tugs off the blazer he’s wearing, folding it into a light pillow. He squats down on his haunches, eyes on yours. A warm hand brushes your knees, urging you up so he can slip the blazer under them. He then stands; blue eyes dark as he brushes your cheek with his thumb. “Go’on, baby. Take whatever you want.”

You reach for his black belt, unfastening it with trembling hands. It unclips with ease, and John’s hands, hairy and veiny and strong, cloud your vision as he unfurls it from his belt loops. You continue downwards, undoing the midnight black of his button. You unzip slowly, licking your lips in anticipation. His fingers brush back the creases on your forehead, trailing down to brush the shell of your ear. “Feel ok?” You nod at his question, cupping him through his boxers. John releases a sharp exhale, a heady sense of power coming over you. You work the pants down fully to give you room, petting him this way and that.

Finally, you peel down the dark fabric of his boxers. He’s hairy but well-maintained, similar to his fuzzy torso you’ve felt in bed. His cock is thick and heavy, wet with precum as it slaps against his upper thigh. You tuck his boxers down to give you room, then start exploring. Kitten licks to the base of him, his hair tickling your nose. Your hand joins you to squeeze his balls, eliciting a sharp groan. John tugs on your hair, more out of instinct than control. “You feel ok?” You throw his words back at him, a cheshire smile growing as he moans again.

“Christ, those fuckin’ hands.” He responds. You move to start stroking, licking him from base to tip. He tastes like salt and musk, but clean with the scent of pine. It’s the most addicting scent on earth. After he’s wet and leaking, you steady yourself with a hand on his upper thigh and the other on your husband’s cock.

You finally take him in your mouth, tongue swirling around his tip. You hum and his grip on your hair tightens. “‘M gonna fuck yer mouth sometime.” You let go of him with a pop, leaning backwards. “Not tonight?” He shakes his head, reaching down to pump his cock in your absence. “I’m a few strokes from cummin’, sweetheart. You look too goddamn good on yer knees.” That earns a grin from you and a renewed sense of vigor.

You suck him hard this time, your hand making up the length you can’t cover. You work yourself into an easy rhythm, up and down as he cradles your face. It’s much softer than you’ve ever experienced from a man, careful and protective. He wasn’t kidding about how close he is, harsh pants emitting faster and faster from his chest. “Where d’ya want me, baby?” You don’t respond, keeping him in your mouth. All you do is blink sweetly, willing your eyes to look bigger than usual. “Fuckin’ perfect, my wife.” That sends a jolt to your heart, and you have to stop yourself from accidentally biting down. Instead of responding, you stroke faster and faster. His abs tense, and you pull back just slightly, letting him coat your tongue and lips. It’s salty but not bitter, a marker of how fucking healthy he is. You lick your lips, swallowing thickly. His thumb brushes off a bit from your nose, pushing his thumb into your mouth. You suck hard, like you did the night he first fingered you. He continues cleaning you up, careful and quiet in his movements. John tucks himself back into his pants and offers you a hand to help you off the floor.

“Your knees sore?” He whispers. You shake your head, suddenly feeling exposed despite not having taken your clothes off. “C’mere.” He tugs you into his arms, tucking you under his chin. “We good?” He asks. You want to say no, want to ask him all the questions swirling around in your head, but all you do is nod and hold him closer.

-

In the car, John’s hand on your thigh, your phone vibrates. It’s Phil.

Everything ok?

Yep! Marital problems, all good.

Your husband is intense.

He’s a sweetheart for me, all that matters 🙂

Good to know. See you tomorrow.

His tone is odd, but you shove that thought from your mind. John squeezes your hand, and you tuck your phone away, content to focus on your husband. Phil is the farthest thought from your mind.

-

um. smut. now they're like friends with problems? idk enemies got boring.

-

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[aligned-starz]

Crying in the Courtyard - Theodore Nott

⋆｡°✩Pairing : theodore nott x fem!reader

Warnings : fluff/light angst, happy ending, use of y/n

Summary : reader finds something out about her crush.

Song : Crying In the Chapel - Elvis Presley⋆｡°✩

Word Count : 2,210

"So, did you find out? Is he seeing someone?" You gushed in a hushed tone, fisting your Slytherin friend's robes in your hand as you pulled her in, anxious to hear what she has to say.

"Y/n! Calm down, you're going to rip off my bloody buttons. But yes, I did hear something from Blaise." Pansy Parkinson, a friend you hadn't expected to make, replied with a sigh, her expression mirroring your own anxiety. You held your breath, waiting for her next words, knowing deep down that your suspicions were about to be confirmed.

"Y/n..." She trails off, looking for words to explain the news. You met her eyes, a small realization dawning that your suspicions had been correct. 

"I'm sorry. There was talk in the air that Theodore had been seeing someone, and Blaise confirmed it for me," Pansy started, her voice tinged with sympathy as she glanced away, almost as if she was shielding her eyes from your reaction. "Says that he's crushing on a girl, and we believe it to be Daphne."

Your heart sank as her words registered, but another thought flashed in your mind. Blaise, with his charming smile and smooth demeanor, had always seemed to have an affinity for Daphne. You couldn't help but wonder if his confirmation of Theodore's crush was influenced by his own feelings for her.

"Greengrass? Doesn't Blaise like Daphne Greengrass?" 

Your curiosity sparked, and a deep longing for an answer, an answer that may prove that there's still a chance that Nott could be yours. 

"Yes, he does. And Daphne likes another Slytherin boy, like Theo. The two have been teased before, but they had previously mentioned that they're just friends. Maybe something had developed? Theodore also mentioned that the girl he liked may have liked him as well, and Blaise saw them laughing together after class. So, if we connect the information together.." 

Your heart felt as though as it had been hollowed out as Pansy dropped the bombshell. Theodore Nott, the enigma that had captured your thoughts and dreams, was supposedly entangled in a relationship. You leaned against the hall wall, the cold stone offering little solace as you tried to process the news, mind full with a whirlwind of confusion and hurt.

"I'm truly sorry, Y/n," Pansy's voice softened, her usually sharp features softening with genuine sympathy. "I was really rooting for the two of you to become a thing."

Her eyes, normally filled with a mischievous glint, now held a hint of sadness as she spoke, as if she shared in your disappointment. It was a rare moment of vulnerability from Pansy, one that made you realize just how much she valued your friendship.

As Pansy's voice faded into the background, you found yourself lost in a sea of memories, each one a painful reminder of what could have been. You remembered the stolen glances and whispered conversations, the moments shared between the two of you that had ignited a spark of something more, moments where you couldn't take your eyes off one another.

Maybe it was all in your head? It was only you who felt that way. No, he had felt that way for a different girl, not just any girl, Daphne Greengrass. You could never compare, oh how foolish you felt.

"Y/n, are you alright?" She placed a hand on your shoulder, bringing you back from your thoughts. You looked up at her, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

"Yes, I'm ok. I expected this, so.." Your eyebrows furrowed in anger, anger at yourself for falling so stupidly.

Before Pansy could see you break down, you decided to leave. You feel so stupid for feeling like this, and you couldn't have someone else see you like this.

"I've got class so um, thank you Pansy." You stammered and started to walk away from the girl, leaving her confused and concerned. 

As the day wore on, Y/n found herself struggling to maintain her composure. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes at the most inconvenient moments, like droplets of rain in a storm. In Potions class, she buried her face in her textbook, pretending to study as she blinked back the tears that blurred her vision. Tears all caused by the boy who sat at the back of the class, who she refused to even spare a glance at now. But the ache in her chest only intensified with each passing moment, a relentless reminder of the pain she could not escape.

So she stood up abruptly in class, her sudden movement capturing Snape's attention like a disturbance in the otherwise calm atmosphere.

"Do you need a moment, Ms. L/n?" his voice was cold and clipped, his gaze piercing as he scrutinized her.

Y/n met his gaze, her eyes watery but determined. She nodded silently, not daring to speak as she fought to control the storm of emotions raging within her. Snape's expression remained impassive, a faint hint of impatience flickering in his eyes as he waited for her response.

"Take all the time you need," he said curtly, his tone dismissive as he turned his attention back to his lesson.

"Thank you, professor." With a heavy heart, Y/n nodded once more, her resolve hardening in the face of his indifference. With one last glance at her teacher, she turned on her heel and strode out of the classroom, leaving behind a lingering sense of unease in her wake.

Theodore Nott, who had been witnessing the whole situation, was confused beyond belief. She was alright this breakfast, she had been chattering and smiling beautifully as usual with her friends. What made her so distressed? So distressed to the point she wouldn't even spare a glance in his way?

The boy raised his hand, ignoring the looks from his friends, and excused himself from class. Though Snape's questioning gaze unsettled him, he was free to go. And the moment that Snape had nodded, the boy was off running after the girl of his dreams.

Finally, she reached the courtyard, her sanctuary amidst the chaos of her emotions. Leaning against the cold stone wall, she allowed herself to surrender to her grief. Each soft sob echoed off the walls, a symphony of heartache that seemed to consume her entirely.

Lost in her misery, she didn't hear the approaching footsteps until it was too late. She hastily wiped away her tears, trying to compose herself as she heard someone round the corner.

"Y/n?"

She froze, all the blood draining from her face at the recognition of his voice.

From all the people that could have seen her at a state like this, why did it have to be him? She felt a weight of dread as his presence lingered from behind her.

She slowly turned around, looking at Theo through her red puffed-up eyes. His eyes softened and he kneeled down to sit beside her, his expression filled with concern and something else, something she couldn't quite decipher.

"Tesoro? Are you alright?" His voice was gentle, a soothing melody amidst the chaos of her thoughts.

Forcing a smile, she nodded weakly, unable to meet his gaze. "I'm fine, Theodore. Just... just a bit tired. It's been a bad day."

But he wasn't fooled by her facade. Stepping closer, he tilted his head at the sight of how broken-hearted you looked, and in his own chest, he felt a pang of pain. "You don't have to pretend with me, Y/n. I can see that something's wrong."

The vulnerability in his eyes shattered the last of her resolve, and she broke down before him, the truth tumbling from her lips in a rush of emotion. "The boy I like... he doesn't like me back," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper as she stared down at her hands, unable to meet Theodore's gaze.

The pang in Theodore's heart deepened, now with a mix of jealousy and seething anger. Who would make such a warm and bella ragazza, cry like this?

"Well, that's his loss," Theodore said, his tone casual yet tinged with a hint of something deeper. "Because if it were up to me, I'd never let someone as incredible as you slip through my fingers."

Y/n's eyes widened in astonishment, her heart skipping a beat at his words. "Theodore..." she began, her voice barely a whisper.

Y/n couldn't help but glance at him, a mixture of confusion and curiosity in her eyes. "You think so?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Nott leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over her ear as he whispered, "Of course. Anyone who can't see how incredible you are doesn't deserve you."

He pulled away to look into her eyes, bringing his hand up to wipe away the stubborn tear that fell from her eye.

"Do you remember that time when I was feeling so lost and alone?" he began, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on her cheek. "I tried to push you away, but you refused to leave my side. You stayed with me, even when I didn't deserve it. You're such a kind and loving soul, your soul made mine feel love again like it had never felt before."

Before she could dwell on the thought, He continued as he cupped her face with his hand, his tone growing more teasing with each word. "And besides, if this boy doesn't appreciate you, then he's clearly not worth your time," he declared, a mischievous glint dancing in his stormy eyes. "I mean, he must be pretty stupid to let someone like you cry tears of heartbreak. Che idiota è quel ragazzo."

Y/n couldn't help but laugh at his playful jab, the tension between them easing as she felt the weight of Theodore's words lift from her shoulders. In that moment, surrounded by his warmth and the teasing sparkle in his eyes, she dared to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, he had loved her back.

"There it is, that beautiful smile," Theo remarked, his heart swelling at the sight of her radiant expression. He couldn't help but feel a surge of affection as he watched the way her cheeks popped out when she laughed, prompting him to playfully pinch one with his hand as he joined in her laughter.

But as the symphony of their laughter faded into a comfortable silence, Theodore found himself unable to tear his gaze away from hers. His eyes wandered down to her lips, drawn like a magnet to their soft curve, and he felt a familiar warmth spreading through him, igniting a longing he couldn't ignore.

In that lingering moment of silent connection, Theodore's heart pounded in his chest, his breath catching as he felt an irresistible pull towards her. Without a second thought, he leaned in closer, his lips gently brushing against hers in a tender, hesitant kiss.

Time seemed to stand still as the world fell away around them, leaving only the sensation of her lips against his, sending sparks of electricity coursing through his veins. In that stolen moment, all doubts and fears melted away, replaced by an overwhelming rush of emotion as Theodore finally dared to seize the opportunity he had longed for.

And as he deepened the kiss, his fingers tangling in her hair, Theodore knew with absolute certainty that he had found where he belonged – in the embrace of the one who had captured his heart from the very beginning.

"Wait wait!" Y/n mumbled against his lips, pulling away with a concerned look upon her face. He looked up at her in regret, a fear that the kiss didn't feel the same for her made him gulp.

"What about Daphne?"

The regret on his face morphed into confusion.

"What about.. Daphne?" He repeated.

"Yeah, aren't you guys like a thing?" She hesitated, searching for answers in his eyes as she furrowed her eyebrows and wrapped her arms around herself uncomfortably.

"What? Daphne likes Blaise."

"Daphne likes Blaise." She repeated, a small smile forming upon her face at the realization.

"Wait, how about you? Who's the boy you said that didn't like you back?"

Y/n laughed out at the realization, ignoring Theo's confused face which made her laugh even more. Butterflies danced in her stomach at the feeling of relief, the joy she felt making her heart beat quickly.

"You! Nott, you were the boy who didn't like me back! Blaise told Pansy that you and Daphne were a thing!" She watched his face for a reaction, and at first he was still confused, but as he realized, his mouth was agape as he said "Ah."

The two soon shared their laughter again, Theo apologizing for the tears he had accidentally made her cry, "All along I was the fool who made you cry," he admitted, his tone soft yet tinged with regret. "I'm sorry, il mio tesoro, if only I had known. How can I make it up to you?"

A playful smirk danced on his lips as he pulled her in closer, his gaze drifting down to her grinning lips.

"I don't know if you can ever make it up to me, Nott. You hurt me pretty bad." She playfully said, wiping away her already dried tears. "Well actually maybe, you can start by kissing me again, you fool."

With a chuckle, Theodore leaned in, capturing her lips in a sweet and passionate kiss, knowing in that moment that he had finally found where he belonged – in the arms of the one who had stood by him through tears and laughter, through every trial and triumph.

⋆｡°✩

Hi! This is my first ever upload on tumblr, so it may not be perfect but hey who cares I got inspired by a personal experience! If you notice any grammatical mistakes, no you didn't. Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! xx

[my masterlist⋆｡°✩]

[baelabong]

ʜɪᴅᴅᴇɴ

(ᴋᴀʀɪɴᴀ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

rq: yes

Pairing: Knight! G!P! Karina x princess! fem reader

Note/warnings: multiple s*x scenes, swearing, this is all fiction gang, riding Next

“Y/N,” he begins, his tone one of authority. “Next week Wednesday is an important night, not just for our kingdom, but for you personally.”

You nod, trying to keep your expression composed. “Yes, Father.”

He walks over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. His grip is firm, a reminder of the expectations that have always been placed on you. “Mark’s family is powerful, their influence extends across many lands. A strong alliance with them would benefit our kingdom greatly. It’s time you start thinking about your future… about marriage.”

The words hit you like a blow to the chest, but you force yourself to remain calm, nodding in agreement. “I understand, Father.”

He studies you for a moment, his gaze softening slightly. “I know this isn’t easy for you, Y/N. But as a princess, your duty to the kingdom must come first. Tonight, you must show Mark’s family that you’re ready to take on that responsibility.”

You swallow hard, your throat tightening as you suppress the emotions threatening to break free. “I will do my best, Father.”

He gives you a small, approving nod before turning back to the window. “Good. Now, go prepare yourself for the ball. Remember, the future of our kingdom rests on your shoulders.”

With a final bow, you leave his chambers, your composure intact until you’re out of sight. The moment you reach your own room, however, the dam breaks. You collapse onto your bed, tears streaming down your face as the weight of your father’s words crashes over you.

It’s not just the thought of marriage that tears at your heart—it’s the knowledge that you could never be with the one person you truly love. The unfairness of it all feels suffocating, as though you’re trapped in a cage with no escape.

The door to your chambers opens quietly, and you look up to see Karina standing there. Her expression shifts from concern to heartbreak when she sees you crying. She rushes to your side, kneeling beside you as she gently takes your hands in hers.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” she asks softly, her voice filled with worry. “What happened?”

You can barely speak through your sobs, but the words tumble out in a broken whisper. “It’s so unfair, Karina. My father… he wants me to marry Mark. He says it’s my duty to the kingdom, but… but what about us? Why can’t we be together?”

Karina’s jaw clenches, and you can see the anger flicker in her eyes. She pulls you into her arms, holding you tightly as if she can shield you from the pain of reality. “You’ll always have me, Y/N. I’ll be by your side, no matter what. And if it comes to it, I’ll run away with you. We can leave this place, start a new life where no one can tell us what we can or cannot be.”

You pull back slightly, looking into her eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation. “You would do that for me?” you ask, your voice trembling.

Her eyes blaze with fierce determination as she cups your face in her hands. “I would do anything for you. I’d even get rid of anyone who stands in our way… even your father if it meant keeping you safe and happy.”

Your breath catches in your throat at her words, a surge of emotion overwhelming you. The world around you falls away, and all that matters is Karina—her love, her devotion, the way she makes you feel safe and cherished. Without thinking, you crash your lips against hers, the kiss filled with desperation and raw need.

Karina responds immediately, her arms wrapping around you as she deepens the kiss. You can feel the intensity in the way she holds you, as if she never wants to let go. Her hands begin to roam, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between your bodies.

You break the kiss, panting as you look at her with a mix of longing and urgency. “Karina… I need you. Please…”

She doesn’t need to be told twice. In a blur of motion, she lifts you into her arms, carrying you over to the bed. She lays you down gently, her eyes dark with desire as she hovers over you. The sight of her above you, her hair falling like a curtain around your face, sends a shiver of anticipation through you.

“Are you sure?” she asks, her voice husky, though you can see the tenderness in her eyes.

You nod, your hands trembling as they reach for her. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

With that, she kisses you again, her lips moving down your neck as her hands begin to undo the delicate ties of your gown. The fabric slips away, exposing your skin to the cool air and Karina’s burning touch. Her fingers trace over your curves, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as she explores every inch of you.

Your breaths become ragged as her hands move lower, teasing and caressing, until you’re a trembling mess beneath her. The composed princess, who stood so poised before her father, is gone. All that remains is a woman lost in the throes of passion, unable to hold back the moans and gasps that escape her lips.

“Karina… please…” you plead, your voice barely a whisper as you arch into her touch.

She doesn’t make you wait any longer. Her hand slips between your thighs, and you cry out at the sensation, your body reacting instantly to her touch. She watches you, her eyes filled with a mix of love and desire, as she brings you to the edge of ecstasy.

You can barely think, your mind clouded with pleasure as she continues to work her magic. Words fall from your lips, broken and breathless as you cling to her, your nails digging into her shoulders. “Karina… I… I’m…”

“Let go,” she murmurs against your skin, her voice soothing as she pushes you over the edge. “I’ve got you, Y/N. I’ll always have you.”

With a final cry, you shatter, your body trembling as waves of pleasure crash over you. Karina holds you through it, her touch never wavering as she guides you back down, her lips pressing gentle kisses to your flushed skin.

When it’s over, you collapse against her, your heart racing as you try to catch your breath. Karina pulls you close, her arms wrapping around you protectively as she whispers soothing words in your ear.

“You’re mine,” she whispers, her voice full of conviction. “And I’ll never let anyone take you from me.”

You smile weakly, feeling safe and cherished in her embrace. “And I’m yours,” you murmur, your voice filled with emotion. “Always”

——

The sun is beginning to set, casting a warm glow through the tall windows of your chambers. You stand before a large mirror, admiring the way your gown shimmers like stardust. The intricate embroidery catches the light, making you look like a vision of royalty. You smile softly at your reflection, but the flutter in your stomach isn’t just from the anticipation of the grand ball—it’s from the woman standing just behind you, her presence as electrifying as ever.

Karina, your ever-loyal knight, is supposed to be helping you get ready, but her touch lingers far longer than necessary, her hands wandering over the soft fabric of your dress and the bare skin of your shoulders. Her fingers trace delicate patterns on your back, her breath warm against your neck as she leans in close.

“You look stunning,” she murmurs, her voice thick with desire. “But you know, I could just as easily take this gown off you as I put it on.”

You feel a shiver run down your spine at her words, and you bite your lip, trying to maintain your composure. “Karina,” you whisper, your voice trembling with both excitement and a hint of warning. “We don’t have time for this… the ball—”

“Let them wait,” she interrupts, her hands sliding around your waist, pulling you back against her. “You know how much I hate sharing you with them.”

You laugh softly, though it quickly turns into a quiet gasp as she presses a kiss to the nape of your neck, her lips lingering there. “Karina, please,” you try to protest, but your resolve is already weakening under her touch.

She turns you around to face her, her eyes dark with longing as they meet yours. “Do you know how hard it is to keep my hands off you?” she asks, her voice low and husky. “To watch you parade around in front of all those nobles, pretending you belong to the kingdom when you’re mine?”

The possessiveness in her tone sends a thrill through you, and you can’t help the way your body responds to her, leaning into her touch. “I belong to you,” you whisper, your hands coming up to rest on her chest. “But we must be careful. If anyone finds out…”

She silences you with a deep, searing kiss, her hands sliding up to cup your face. The kiss is filled with a mix of frustration and need, her lips demanding as they move against yours. You melt into her, the worries about the ball and the court slipping away, replaced by the sheer intensity of her kiss.

When she finally pulls back, you’re both breathless, her forehead resting against yours. “I’ll never let anyone take you from me,” she vows, her voice rough with emotion. “You’re mine, Y/N. Only mine.”

Your heart swells at her words, and you nod, your hands tightening on her arms. “And I’m yours,” you reply, your voice soft but firm. “Now and always.”

She kisses you again, more gently this time, before reluctantly pulling away. “We should go,” she says, though the reluctance is clear in her voice. “Before I decide to keep you all to myself.”

You laugh softly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “You always know how to make me want to stay,” you tease, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before stepping back.

Karina watches as you turn back to the mirror, her eyes never leaving you as you finish preparing. She helps you with the final touches, her fingers brushing against yours as she adjusts your necklace, her gaze filled with both love and longing.

“Are you ready, my princess?” she asks, her voice a soft whisper in your ear.

You nod, turning to face her once more. “As long as you’re by my side.”

She smiles, a rare, tender smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

——

The grand ballroom buzzes with life, the music resonating through the space as the elite of the kingdom whirl about in their finest attire. You, Princess Y/N, are the center of attention, as always. Tonight, you're dressed in a gown that shimmers like stardust, catching the light with every graceful movement you make. You smile and nod politely at the courtiers and nobles who bow as you pass, though your heart is elsewhere—focused on the one person who truly matters to you.

From across the room, you feel Karina's eyes on you. Your knight, ever vigilant, stands close to the shadows, her gaze never straying far from you. She’s always been your protector, your confidante, and now, your secret love. The bond you share is a hidden treasure, known only to the two of you, kept safe from the prying eyes of the court.

As you continue to circulate through the room, your attention is suddenly drawn to Prince Mark, who approaches with an easy confidence. His charm is well-known, and the look in his eyes tells you that tonight, his interest is solely on you.

“Your Highness,” he says with a smooth bow, his eyes gleaming as they meet yours. “Would you do me the honor of a dance?”

You hesitate for a brief moment, your thoughts flickering to Karina. But you know that you must accept; refusing him in front of the court could raise unnecessary questions. With a composed smile, you place your hand in his. “Of course, Your Grace.”

As the two of you begin to dance, Mark pulls you slightly closer, his grip firm but still within the bounds of propriety. The two of you move together effortlessly, and for those watching, you’re the perfect picture of royalty. Yet, there’s an unease in the pit of your stomach, a feeling that only grows as Mark’s gaze lingers on you longer than it should.

“Princess,” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear, “you are even more beautiful up close than I imagined. It’s no wonder everyone speaks so highly of you.”

You offer a polite smile, keeping your expression neutral. “You flatter me, Your Grace.”

You nod, allowing him to lead you onto the dance floor. As you move together to the rhythm of the music, he watches you closely, his gaze intent. “You must have suitors from every corner of the kingdom, vying for your hand,” he begins, his voice low and intimate. “But I wonder, has anyone truly captured your heart?”

His question pulls at something deep inside you, and you can’t help but laugh softly, the sound tinged with the memory of the night before—a memory that flashes vividly in your mind.

---

It was late, the palace silent, the moonlight casting a soft glow through the curtains of your chambers. Karina, your loyal knight and secret lover, had entered your room with a look that sent a shiver down your spine. She closed the door behind her, sealing off the world outside, leaving only the two of you in the quiet intimacy of the night.

Without a word, she crossed the room, her eyes locked onto yours. You tried to maintain your composure, the grace and poise expected of a princess, but it all began to slip away the moment Karina reached you. She cupped your face in her hands, her touch gentle yet commanding, and leaned in to press her lips against yours in a kiss that was both tender and full of unspoken desire.

“Y/N,” she murmured against your lips, her voice a husky whisper that sent a thrill down your spine. “You drive me mad, you know that?”

You smiled against her mouth, your heart pounding in your chest. “And what do you plan to do about it, Karina?”

Her answer was to deepen the kiss, her hands moving to the laces of your gown, deftly untying them. “I’m going to make you mine,” she whispered, her breath hot against your ear. “I’m going to make you forget everything but me.”

You shivered at her words, a quiet moan escaping your lips as she pushed the gown from your shoulders, letting it pool at your feet. The cool air of the room brushed against your bare skin, but all you could focus on was Karina—her touch, her scent, the way she looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

“Karina,” you breathed, your hands finding their way to the hem of her tunic, tugging it over her head. “I need you.”

She groaned softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as she kissed a path down your neck. “You’ll have me, Y/N,” she promised, her voice thick with need. “But first, I want to hear you say it. I want to hear you say that you’re mine.”

You gasped as her hands roamed over your body, her fingers brushing over sensitive spots that made you arch into her touch. “I’m yours,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation. “I’m yours, Karina.”

She smiled against your skin, a wicked smile that made your pulse race. “That’s what I like to hear,” she murmured, her lips trailing down your collarbone, over the curve of your breast. Her hands gripped your hips, guiding you back until you were lying on the bed, her body hovering over yours.

“Tell me how much you want this,” she said, her voice low and commanding as she teased you with light touches, her fingers brushing over your thighs.

“I want this more than anything,” you moaned, your back arching as she continued to tease you, the ache between your legs growing with every passing second. “Please, Karina, don’t make me wait.”

She chuckled softly, a sound full of dark promise. “Oh, my princess, I won’t make you wait long,” she said, positioning herself between your legs. “But I need you to know that I’m the only one who can make you feel like this. Do you understand?”

You nodded frantically, your hands gripping the sheets as she finally entered you, a cry of pure pleasure escaping your lips. The sensation was overwhelming, her rhythm steady and deep, each thrust driving you closer to the edge.

“Karina,” you gasped, your voice breaking as she moved inside you, the pleasure building with each thrust. “Oh, gods, Karina—”

“Louder,” she demanded, her voice rough with desire as she quickened her pace, her hands tightening on your hips. “I want to hear you scream my name, Y/N.”

And you did. The pleasure was too intense, too overwhelming to hold back. You screamed her name as she brought you to your peak, your body trembling beneath hers as the waves of pleasure crashed over you, leaving you breathless and spent.

---

Back in the ballroom, Prince Mark’s words pull you back to the present, a soft, knowing smile tugging at your lips as you laugh lightly, your mind still lingering on the memory of Karina and the way she had completely unraveled you just hours ago.

The question catches you off guard, and for a split second, your mind flashes to Karina—her steady gaze, the way she always seems to understand you without a word. You quickly compose yourself, offering a practiced response. “As a princess, my duties to the kingdom come first, Prince Mark. Matters of the heart are secondary.”

Mark’s smile widens, but there’s a calculating edge to it. “Perhaps,” he says, leaning in just a fraction closer, “but even the most dutiful princess deserves someone who understands her, who can stand by her side through all challenges. I could be that person, Y/N.”

His use of your name, without the formal title, feels too intimate, too presumptuous. You maintain your composure, though inside, you can feel your frustration building. “Your Grace, you are kind to offer such sentiments, but I believe you overestimate your familiarity with me.”

Mark chuckles softly, undeterred by your cool response. “Perhaps, but I would very much like to change that. I see in you a strength, a wisdom that surpasses others of your rank. Together, we could do great things.”

The dance continues, but your thoughts are no longer on the music or the steps. You’re acutely aware of Karina, standing just out of sight, undoubtedly watching this interaction with a heavy heart. You glance briefly in her direction, catching her silhouette in the corner of your eye. The tension in her posture is unmistakable—she’s holding herself back, maintaining her knightly duty, but you know she’s struggling to keep her emotions in check.

As the music draws to a close, Mark tightens his grip on your hand slightly, as if he doesn’t want to let you go just yet. “Think about what I’ve said, Princess,” he says quietly, his tone sincere. “You deserve someone who sees you for who you truly are.”

You nod politely, withdrawing your hand as the dance ends. “I appreciate your words, Your Grace. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must attend to my other guests.”

Before Mark can respond, Karina appears at your side, her presence a reassuring balm to your frayed nerves. She bows slightly, her voice calm but with an edge of urgency. “Your Highness, may I have a word?”

You nod, grateful for the interruption. As you walk away from the crowded ballroom, you feel Karina’s hand brush against yours—a brief, hidden touch that sends warmth through your entire being. Once you’re alone in a secluded corridor, Karina turns to you, her eyes searching yours.

“Are you alright?” she asks, her voice filled with concern.

You nod, though the encounter with Mark has left you unsettled. “I’m fine, Karina. But he was… persistent.”

Karina’s jaw tightens, and you can see the storm brewing behind her usually composed exterior. “I don’t like the way he looks at you,” she admits, her voice low and filled with barely-contained jealousy. “He doesn’t know you like I do, and I won’t let him think he can have you.”

You reach out, gently placing your hand on her cheek. “And he won’t,” you assure her softly, leaning in until your lips meet hers in a tender, stolen kiss. “You’re the one I choose, Karina. Always.”

Karina’s breath catches, her eyes darkening with a mix of desire and possessiveness as your words sink in. She tightens her grip on your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies are flush against each other.

“Then show me,” she whispers, her voice rough with emotion, as if daring you to prove your devotion.

Your heart skips a beat at her command, the intensity in her gaze sending a shiver down your spine. Without another word, you quickly glance around to ensure no one is watching, then take her hand and lead her down the dimly lit corridor. Your steps are hurried, the anticipation and need driving you forward until you find a door to a private room—one that you know will offer the seclusion you both crave.

You push the door open, pulling Karina inside before shutting it behind you. The moment the door clicks shut, Karina is on you, her lips crashing against yours in a kiss that’s both demanding and filled with raw passion. You respond with equal fervor, your hands tangling in her hair as you press your body against hers, needing to feel every inch of her.

She backs you up against the bed, her hands roaming over your curves, teasing the sensitive skin beneath your dress. You moan into her mouth as she grips your hips, lifting you slightly before laying you down on the bed. She hovers over you, her eyes devouring the sight of you laid out beneath her, your dress slipping off your shoulders to reveal more of your skin.

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmurs, her voice filled with reverence as she dips her head to kiss along your neck. Her lips and teeth work in tandem, leaving a trail of marks that you know will be hidden by your gown later, but for now, they’re a claim—her claim—on you.

“Karina…” you gasp, your body arching into her touch as she works your dress down further, exposing your breasts to her hungry gaze. “Please… I need you.”

She growls low in her throat, one hand sliding down your body, pushing up the fabric of your skirts until her fingers find the slick heat between your thighs. “I’m yours, Y/N. Only yours,” she whispers before claiming your lips again, her fingers slipping inside you with ease, making you cry out.

The way she touches you, with both tenderness and urgency, sets your nerves on fire. You grip her shoulders, your hips bucking against her hand as she works you over, her thumb rubbing against your clit in a way that has you seeing stars. But you need more—so much more.

“Karina,” you pant, your voice breathless as you pull her closer. “I want you inside me. Please… I need to feel you.”

She doesn’t hesitate. With a quick, deft motion, she undoes her belt and frees herself, her thick, throbbing cock springing to life. The sight of it sends a fresh wave of heat through your body, and you can’t help but reach out, your fingers wrapping around her shaft, feeling the way it twitches in your hand. She groans at your touch, her eyes nearly rolling back in her head as you stroke her a few times.

“Y/N…” she breathes, her voice strained with desire. “I need you.”

You release her, your hands shaking with anticipation as you pull her down to you, positioning her between your thighs. She lines herself up with your entrance, and you both let out a shared moan as she slowly pushes inside, stretching you in the most delicious way. Your back arches off the bed, your nails digging into her shoulders as she fills you completely.

“Oh god, Karina…” you whimper, your head falling back against the pillows as you feel her cock bulging in your stomach, the veins rubbing exquisitely against your inner walls.

She stills for a moment, allowing you both to adjust to the sensation. Her eyes are locked on yours, filled with a love so deep it nearly takes your breath away. “You’re so good to me,” she murmurs, her hands caressing your sides as she starts to move, her thrusts slow and deliberate. “How did I ever deserve you?”

Your heart swells at her words, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you meet her thrusts, the pleasure building with each movement. “Karina… you’re perfect. I’m the one who’s lucky… so lucky…”

She kisses you again, her movements becoming more urgent, more frantic as the need to claim you, to make you hers, overwhelms her. You can feel every inch of her inside you, the way her cock drags against your walls, the way she seems to hit that perfect spot with every thrust. It’s overwhelming, the pleasure bordering on pain as she takes you higher and higher, until you’re both teetering on the edge.

“Karina… I’m close…” you gasp, your hands gripping her arms as you feel the coil in your belly tightening, ready to snap.

“Me too,” she groans, her hips slamming into yours as she chases her release. “I’m going to fill you up, Y/N… make you mine…”

“You’re so perfect,” Karina breathes, her voice rough with emotion as she begins to move in earnest. Her hips rock against yours, creating a rhythm that has you gasping and moaning with every thrust. “I want to fill you up with my babies, Y/N. I want you to feel me inside you, to know that you’re mine in every way.”

The words hit you like a wave, and you can barely process them through the haze of pleasure. The thought of Karina’s claim on you, her desire to leave a mark, sends shivers through your body, making your pleasure even more intense.

“Karina… please,” you moan, your hands clutching her shoulders as you try to keep your composure. “I… I want it.”

“That’s it,” she murmurs, her breath hot against your ear as she leans in closer. “Take it all, Y/N. I want to see you filled with my cum, to know that you’re carrying a part of me with you.”

Her words are almost too much to bear, adding an extra layer of urgency to her thrusts. You’re so lost in the pleasure that the thought of what she’s saying only intensifies the feeling. You moan loudly, your hips bucking against her as your climax draws near.

Karina’s thrusts become more frantic, her cock driving deeper, hitting all the right spots inside you. She reaches down, her hand finding your clit, rubbing it in tight circles to push you closer to the edge. “Come for me, Y/N,” she commands, her voice a low growl. “I want to feel you come around me, to know that you’re mine completely.”

The combination of her cock filling you and her fingers working magic on your clit sends you spiraling over the edge. You cry out, your body convulsing as your orgasm crashes through you. You can’t think, can barely breathe as the pleasure overwhelms you. “Karina… I’m c-coming…”

“Good girl,” she murmurs, her voice filled with pride and desire as she fucks you through your climax. She speeds up her thrusts, her cock pulsing inside you as she chases her own release. “I’m going to fill you up, Y/N. You’re going to be so full of me, you won’t be able to forget who owns you.”

The force of her words pushes you even further, your orgasm extending as she continues to pound into you, filling you with her cum. You can feel her release filling you, the warmth spreading through your core as she moans and groans, her thrusts becoming erratic as she reaches her peak.

Karina finally stills, her cock twitching inside you as she spills her seed, the heat and pressure almost overwhelming. She collapses beside you, pulling you close as you both try to catch your breath. The room is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing and the faint echoes of your shared pleasure.

“You’re mine,” Karina whispers, her voice a mix of satisfaction and tenderness as she wraps her arms around you. “All mine.”

“And I’m yours,” you reply, your voice filled with a contented sigh as you snuggle into her embrace. “

Her words send you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave. You scream her name, your body trembling as the pleasure consumes you, your inner walls clamping down around her cock.

The sensation is too much for Karina. With a guttural moan, she thrusts deep inside you one final time, her cock pulsing as she spills her hot seed into you, filling you to the brim. The warmth spreads through you, and you can feel her cum seeping out around her cock, coating your thighs in a sticky mess.

———

The moment is brief, but it’s enough to reaffirm what you both know in your hearts. You pull back just as the sound of footsteps echoes down the hallway. With a shared look of understanding, you both step back into your roles—princess and knight, lovers hidden in plain sight.

“Tonight, we play our parts,” you say quietly, giving her one last lingering look before you return to the ballroom. “But never forget, it’s you who holds my heart.”

As you rejoin the festivities, Karina watches from the sidelines, her protective gaze never leaving you. And while the world may see you as a princess without a suitor, you both know the truth—a love that runs deeper than duty, hidden beneath the moonlight.

The grand ballroom is alive with laughter and the soft strains of music, guests swirling around in their finest attire. You move through the crowd, your thoughts occupied with the evening's complex dynamics and your secret affair with Karina.

After your quiet, intimate moment with Karina in the hallway, you return to the ballroom, your heart lightened by her presence and the secret you both share.

You exchange fleeting glances with Karina, whose eyes remain steadfast and watchful from the sidelines.

Just as you're about to engage in conversation with a group of nobles, Mark approaches you again. This time, his demeanor is more earnest, and he catches your hand gently, guiding you to a quieter side of the room.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice carrying a note of earnest sincerity. “I have something important to ask you.”

You look up at him, sensing the gravity of the moment. “What is it, Your Grace?”

Mark’s gaze is steady and filled with emotion. He reaches into his pocket and produces a small, elegant box. With a deep breath, he opens it to reveal a sparkling engagement ring. “Princess Y/N, I know that our time together has been short, but in it, I have seen the depth of your heart and the strength of your character. I cannot imagine my future without you by my side.”

He drops to one knee, his eyes locked on yours. “Will you marry me?”

The room seems to freeze around you. Mark’s proposal hangs in the air, the weight of his words heavy and poignant. The unexpectedness of the moment leaves you breathless, a thousand thoughts racing through your mind.

As you open your mouth to respond, a soft touch on your arm makes you turn. Karina’s presence, though discreet, is unmistakable. Her eyes, filled with a mix of pain and determination, meet yours across the room.

Mark’s gaze is unwavering, waiting for your answer, while Karina’s look speaks volumes—a silent plea, a promise of unspoken love.

Oh fuck.

[multific]

From Strangers to Soulmates

Isaac x Reader

Summary: You were new in town, and barely even had time to get used to your new home when your parents told you that you would marry one of the boys in the village. 

The news came to you one evening, an arrangement sealed without your consent but with your future in mind. 

It was a shock, to say the least.

Isaac, they said, was the son of a nice man in town, a hard worker with a reputation for kindness. 

Your family spoke highly of Isaac, though you had never met, you doubted your parents met him for more than a couple minutes. 

You barely knew anybody, so, you knew better than to argue or say no.

When the day of the wedding arrived, you stood across from him in the church.

Isaac's warm smile eased your nerves. He was handsome and he looked kind.

Thank God.

“I know this is sudden,” he whispered softly as the priest recited his words, “but I promise to be a good husband to you.”

His sincerity surprised you, and you found yourself nodding with a smile across your face.

Married life with Isaac was nothing like the tales of hardship you had heard from others. 

Each morning, he woke early to tend to the small farm behind your home.

When you woke, he had already prepared breakfast as he greeted you, along with his cheerful humming.

One morning, as the rooster crowed, you stumbled into the kitchen to find Isaac already dressed, kneading dough with flour on his hands.

He glanced up and grinned. 

“Good morning, Love. Sleep well?”

“I wanted to prepare breakfast this morning,” you replied, leaning against the doorway. "But you were faster than me."

He chuckled, wiping his hands on a cloth before he placed a kiss against your temple. 

“Breakfast is almost ready. Go sit, I’ll bring it to you.”

He always insisted on taking care of you, though you often protested. When you brought him water or helped with chores, he thanked you with such genuine appreciation that your heart swelled.

Isaac was easy to love.

His kindness and sincerity made you feel at ease as you slowly began to fall in love.

In the evenings, after supper, the two of you often sat by the fire. 

Isaac would carve small wooden figures, birds, deer, and even a rabbit he once said was meant to be a cat.

“You’re teasing me,” you said, laughing as he handed it to you.

"What? It has... character.”

Despite your joy, you kept the carving on the mantle, just above the fireplace, treasuring every gift he gave because you knew he gave it from his heart.

On rainy nights, with the symphony of raindrops outside, he would read to you from the old Bible his mother had given him. 

His voice was steady and soothing, and though you weren’t particularly interested in his book, you loved the way his words filled the room.

As the weeks turned into months, the initial awkwardness between you faded. 

One evening, as you watched Isaac working by lantern light, you realized how much your feelings had grown.

“I never expected this,” you said softly, breaking the comfortable silence.

He looked up from his task, brow furrowed. 

“What do you mean?”

“To feel this way about you. To find happiness... love.”

Setting his tools aside, Isaac crossed the room and knelt before you, taking your hands in his. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been happier,” he admitted, his voice low and sincere. “You’ve made my life brighter than I ever imagined.”

You kissed him.

He took you to bed.

It was the first time you two had made love.

You finally became one.

That night, as you lay together beneath the blankets, he wrapped his arms around you. 

“I’ll spend every day making sure you’re happy. I love you.”

"I love you too."

And he did. 

From the quiet mornings to the laughter-filled evenings, Isaac’s love was constant, steady and unwavering.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[cattordi]

1. the new neighbor 🥥

a/n 𓇼 hey lovies

summary 𓇼 after returning to the obx, you rent the cameron’s guest house; forcing you into close proximity with your ex boyfriend— rafe.

pairings 𓇼 pogue!reader x exbf!rafecameron

warnings 𓇼 this is only the first part so just angst, not proofread, mentions of drugs

˚⋆𓇼˚⊹ 𖦹 ⁺｡° ˚⋆𓇼˚⊹ 𖦹 ⁺｡° ˚⋆𓇼˚⊹ 𖦹

“my dad said our guest house is ready for you when you get here.” sarah emphasized on the phone call you were on.

“okay. thank you so much sarah.” you say into the phone. both you and sarah bid your goodbyes and hangup. grabbing your suitcase, and other bags, you open the door of the uber you ordered, leave the airport and head to: the outer banks.

outer banks was your home…. until you moved to new york in hopes of living a less divided life. during your time living in the obx, your parents both passed, you spent your time with pogues, but ultimately was in love with and dated a kook— rafe.

he was another reason you left. during the 2 years you two dated, it was all perfect.. until he got into drugs.

you never understood the toll drugs could have on someone until rafe started getting violent, his emotions were all over the place, he became impulsive, and relied on coke to make him happy.

so you packed your things and left with no note behind or anything. rafe did reach out sarah didn’t talk to you for awhile but eventually she understood your reasoning.

after an hour of driving, you’re finally driving though figure 8. big houses come into view along with boats. another 15 minutes go by and you’re pulling into the entrance of taneyhill.

you grab your phone and text sarah “i’m outside” before collecting your bags, thanking the driver, and walking towards the door.

sarah and rose greet you at the front door. both engulfing you in hugs. “jesus y/n i’ve missed you so much. you don’t understand” sarah says.

“i’ve missed you guys too. where’s wheezie?” you ask

both of their faces go staid before rose says, “she’s with rafe actually. they went out in the boat.”

you smile softly, a bit hurt at the sound of his name, “well that sounds nice. i hope they’re having fun”

silence falls within the three of you before ross breaks in saying, “let’s get you into your house, kay?”

you smile again, sarah grabs your things, and you head towards the adjoining guest house.

𓇼

the rest of your night goes by smoothly, no rafe encounters and you quickly remembered how much you enjoyed outer banks.

the next morning you wake up and do your everyday morning routine, with plans of going on your morning run. you throw your hair in a pony tail, pull on running shorts, an oversized t-shirt, and running shoes before leaving the guest house and walking over to the cameron’s house.

as quietly as you can, you fill your water bottle with ice and water until—

“what’re you doing?” a deep voice says from behind you, almost making you drop your bottle. you turn and see rafe. his family is illuminated by the sun seeping through the blinds. his blue eyes watch you. he’s wearing grey sweatpants and no shirt.

“i’m filling my water bottle rafe.”

“no what are you doing? here?”

“i decided to come back home” you begin while closing your bottle, “i missed it here.”

“you’re so full of shit.”

your eyebrows scrunch as you roughly—slam the bottle on the counter. “what’s that supposed to mean rafe?”

“you just left and now you just back. bull-fucking-shit. get someone else to believe your manipulative ass, because it won’t be me.”

“luckily,” you start and begin to walk towards the door, leading back out, “i don’t need your approval.”

you hear him follow you, “you need to leave y/n. you left before so it shouldn’t be hard now.”

that one hit you straight in the heart because you quickly turn around and say, “really rafe? i left? you mentally fucking left our relationship way before i did. but if blaming me makes you fucking feel better so be it. but until i can get a place of my own, we just need to agree to stay out of each others way.”

“y’know what? whatever.” rafe curses and rolls his eyes. he goes to turn leave but stops, “also, nice shirt y/n”

with that he leaves and slams the door behind him, leaving you confused until you look down to see you’re wearing his shirt.

[theetherealbloom]

BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM

Chapter One: I Know He's Crazy, But He's The One I Want

Summary: After harboring a crush on your dad's charming best friend, Joel Miller, you graduate college only to be confused by something he supposedly said to you, but then he and his daughter Sarah, reluctantly move away due to his work. Six months later, Joel returns to town, and you're desperate to confirm if his words were real. Both you and your dad eagerly await his arrival but for entirely different reasons. As feelings intensify, you realize that falling for him might not be temporary after all.

Pairing: Dbf!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, AGE-GAP Romance, Reader is Early twenties and Joel is in his late 30s to early 40s, Secret Romance, Sneaking around, FLUFF, SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, Heavy Make Out Session, Kissing, Barely any plot, Relationship, Swearing, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, Flattery, Awkward, Virgin reader, inexperienced reader, slightly Self Deprecating, Suggestive Content,

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: Happy “The Tortured Poets Department” release! I couldn’t help but shriek with joy when I heard But Daddy I Love Him. Literally, dad best friend Joel Miller coded. I would like to thank @wheresarizona for dealing with my spam in her messages from me as I was yapping about the new album and gushing over her writing; she’s literally one of the best writers ever. That is a fact and I will die on that hill.

This fic is heavily inspired by all of the dad's best friend books and dbf!Joel Miller fics I have read over the years. It is with great honor (and a lot of fucking fear) to present to you this Frankenstein of all of my fav tropes!

Heads up, I’m actually dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: But Daddy I Love Him by Taylor Swift

→ Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

As you walk past the neighboring house, you observe the real estate agent meticulously placing the 'SOLD' banner onto the weathered for sale sign. A strange sense of satisfaction washes over you, knowing that someone has finally purchased the property.

Entering your home, you release a sigh of relief as the familiar comfort washes over you. With a casual toss, your keys and bag find their place on the hallway table. The urge to call out to your dad bubbles up, but it freezes in your throat when you're met with an unexpected sound drifting from his home office.

Your heart quickens as you peek inside, only to find your dad's best friend, Joel Miller, lounging on the plush brown lazy boy. His deep, resonant voice fills the room, sending shivers down your spine even before you lay eyes on him.

Clutching the doorframe for support, you fight to steady your nerves. With trembling fingers, you manage to force a smile onto your lips, though it feels strained. "Hey, Dad. Hey… Joel," you manage to squeak, the mere sound of his name stirring a flurry of emotions within you.

The room feels stiflingly quiet as you wait for a response, the weight of Joel's gaze almost tangible. You swallow hard, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as his intense eyes meet yours. His attention feels almost palpable, his gaze lingering on you in a way that sends a rush of warmth through your body. With a low, almost imperceptible grunt of acknowledgment, Joel's gaze finally breaks away, leaving you breathless in his wake.

You try to avert your gaze out of sheer habit, but it's futile, like trying not to be drawn to the most captivating, exquisite sight in existence.

God, it's as if he's been carved from pure perfection, each time you lay eyes on him.

That same intense, brooding look he wore the day of your college graduation, late last year, still grips you. And it seems Joel's gaze has the same effect on your dad, eliciting a familiar reaction. With a quick double-take, your dad shoots a glance at his best friend before swiveling in his seat.

"Hey there, sweetheart, just catching up with Joel. He dropped by for a surprise visit," your dad starts, but he halts mid-sentence, noticing your undeniable reaction. Concern etches his features as he addresses you. "Honey?" he prompts, his voice laced with worry, as you struggle to find your voice for the umpteenth time in mere seconds.

Joel's gaze narrows, his jaw clenching as his intense scrutiny roams over you, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

As you cling to the doorframe, you can't help but notice the subtle movement of Joel's prominent Adam's apple, betraying his own unease.

Breaking the tension, your dad's nervous chuckle pierces the silence, attributing my apparent moodiness to your usual banter. He turns back to Joel, commenting on his friend's expression.

"What's going on with you two?" he quips, his tone shifting from light-hearted to serious in an instant. "Feels like there's some dirty secret between you," your dad adds, the jest evaporating from his voice. Yet, Joel remains unfazed by your dad's observation, his gaze still locked onto you as a faint smile curves his lips.

His lips curl into a smirk, accentuating the charming dimple that appears in his slightly scruffy beard whenever he smiles—a sight that never fails to tug at your heartstrings.

But as your dad's suspicion lingers in the air, Joel's demeanor shifts, yet you still struggle to connect the dots regarding why he's been giving you that look since graduation.

That day was meant to mark a pivotal moment in your life, celebrating the culmination of years of hard work in college. Yet, Joel's presence, the way he gazed at you, and the unexpected intensity of his hug during the congratulations... It's forever etched in your memory for reasons beyond the academic achievement.

And at the center of it all is one word: Joel.

He's a towering figure, a mix of solid muscle and the comforting softness of his belly. In the moment, you brushed off his tight embrace after receiving your diploma as merely the enthusiasm of the occasion.

But as you felt his whole body pressing right into yours during that hug, you knew it wasn’t your regular type of embrace.

“I’m so proud of you, darlin’,” he whispered in your ear. And though you didn’t catch his next words as clearly, you're certain he said something else that day. “…You feel so fuckin’ good….”

At least, that's what you've been convincing yourself he said. You recall gazing up into those big brown eyes, the same intense look he's giving you now, and wondering the same thing. How could an older, dangerously attractive man like Joel be even remotely interested in someone like you? Apart from being your dad’s best friend, he's more than twice your age and lives on the other side of the country with his daughter, Sarah.

You can almost picture the scandalized gasps of the single older women and ex-wives in your town, clutching their pearls and whispering, "What a mess," if you and Joel ever got together; if he was even remotely interested in you like that.

But you've replayed that scene in your mind every day since, and no matter how hard you try, there's just no denying your secret crush on him.

It all started long before college, your feelings for Joel simmering beneath the surface. Back then, you couldn't quite grasp what it was you felt for him. All you knew was that it felt right, and that feeling remains unchanged. Despite the nerves and shyness that being around him brings, there's another undeniable effect he has on you.

Like the overwhelming desire to sink back and beg him to indulge in things that his best friend's daughter probably shouldn't be fantasizing about. It's been a while since you last saw Joel, but he still exudes the same charm and looks even more handsome and fit than before, thanks to his job in construction as a contractor.

And when you receive that same look from him today, when your dad even jokes about his suspicions, you know Joel remembers that day too. The intensity in his eyes mirrors the moment he pulled you close, a memory etched as your most cherished moment so far.

"Well, I reckon’ my presence here might come as a bit of a surprise," Joel rasps, his gaze locked with yours as he emits a low chuckle for your dad's benefit. Unnoticed by your dad, Joel shoots you a sly wink, and you watch as your dad's tension melts away. He's relieved to know he wasn't imagining things, and undoubtedly thrilled once he hears Joel's news. "I'm moving here, right next door with Sarah. Tommy should be dropping her off here tomorrow," he announces with enthusiasm, but you feel the pit of your stomach drop.

Joel... here? For good? Oh, fuck.

Your dad erupts into loud whoops, raising both hands in the air. "It's about time, buddy! I knew you were keeping something from me," he adds, turning to you once again. "You were aware of this?" he asks, furrowing his brow with a hint of confusion. 

"You knew Joel and Sarah were coming to town, didn’t you?" Dad repeats, finally grinning like a child at the news. Smiling like a dad who's pushed aside any notion of his best friend showing interest in his only daughter. And you catch a sly grin on Joel’s face as he comes to your rescue. "Oh, I mentioned I might pay a visit. Buttercup here wasn't aware of the specifics or that Sarah and I would be relocatin’ back here," he explains to your dad.

But when Joel smoothly fibs to your dad, insinuating that you were aware of his impending move back to town, even though it caught you completely off guard, he seals an instant and secret pact between the two of you with a single glance. His deep brown eyes wink at you, sending a thrilling shiver down your spine. You realize you're in deeper trouble than you initially thought. And strangely enough, it's the kind of trouble you welcome with open arms.

In that fleeting moment, a silent understanding passes between you and Joel. With just a wink from him, your chest flutters with excitement, and a wave of anticipation rushes through you, leaving you feeling unexpectedly aroused at the prospect of having him nearby all the time. You're fully committed now, Joel's lie to his best friend serving as a shield for both of you, deflecting attention away from the undeniable tension between you.

"Sarah called last week," you fabricate, deciding to play along with Joel's deception. "As we were chatting, Joel mentioned something about visiting. It must've slipped my mind to mention it to you," you explain to your dad, hoping he'll buy into the white lie. Joel's low growl of contentment as he leans back, causing the leather chair to creak, reassures you that he approves of your little ruse.

Your dad's elation at the news of his best friend's return to their quaint little town is palpable, enough to overshadow any scolding he might have had for your omission about Sarah and Joel's supposed call.

But the truth remains: Sarah never called, and Joel's mysterious behavior is raising more questions than answers.

A surprise visit is one thing, but the intensity of Joel's gaze? The way he makes you feel? It's enough to give your long-standing crush on him a serious run for its money.

"But damn, Sarah will be here tomorrow?" your dad groans before chuckling. "A bit more notice would've been nice, but hell, it'll be good to see you, buddy."

"Listen, I've got something I can't postpone tomorrow. Maybe my daughter here could accompany you to pick up Sarah from the airport?" your dad suggests, turning his attention towards you.

Somewhere behind you, a strange sound escapes—it's you, emitting a sort of mewling noise that you know Joel catches, his smile widening in response.

"Sounds perfect," he agrees before you even have a chance to process it.

"Sweetie?" your dad asks, his tone sheepish now that he's volunteered you without asking if you were available.

You can only watch as the room seems to spin around you, nodding in agreement. "Yeah... sure, I don't have any tutoring sessions tomorrow."

"Perfect!" your dad sighs with relief, promising Joel they'll catch up later. "But I really need to get back to the shop. Are you alright here with her to help you settle into your new house with whatever you brought? The rest of your stuff hasn't arrived yet."

"Yeah, we'll be just fine," Joel assures in his trademark baritone, locking eyes with you.

You were so fixated on Joel's presence that you hadn't noticed the bags by the side of the home office.

"Sweetie? You sure you're okay to help? You look kind of..." your dad starts, but you take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself before replying, "Yeah, I'll be fine. We'll be fine. I can help."

"Alright then," your dad grabs his car keys, ready to leave the home office. He gives you both a final glance, kissing the top of your head. "I'll be back for dinner. Have fun, you two!"

You and Joel remain frozen in place, him on one side of the room and you by the doorway, both listening to your dad's fading footsteps and the rumble of his truck as he drives away.

You’re so fucked.

It's been six long months since you last saw each other, and for Joel, it's felt like an eternity. The day of your graduation marked the first time he laid eyes on you in over three years, and it was as if he was seeing you for the very first time.

You've grown into a remarkable adult, and Joel couldn't help but feel the overwhelming need to be there, not only for his buddy, your dad, but also for his sweet Buttercup. Witnessing his little girl all grown up and ready to embark on her journey into the world with her diploma was a moment he'll never forget. He'd never seen his best friend prouder, yet his gaze lingered on you for entirely different reasons.

Reasons and desires that had never crossed Joel's mind until that day. He couldn't resist pulling you close, feeling the warmth of your body pressed against his.

What was he thinking? Surely, everyone could see the effect you had on him.

But Joel wasn't thinking, he was acting on instinct. He was claiming what he knew belonged to him. Telling you he was proud of you was one thing, but he's still unsure if you heard what else he said about how good you felt in his arms.

Yet, he doesn't regret it. Because it was true then, and it remains true now. He just wishes he knew if you felt the same way. If you felt it in the same way he did. But how could you possibly feel the same way about him as he has about you these past six months?

Joel couldn't deny that there were many reasons why the relationship between you was complicated. For one, there was the age difference - you were more than half his age. Apart from having the kind of body he could grip, suck and fuck for a lifetime, additionally, you were his best friend's daughter, a bond that ran deep and could not be ignored.

That day, Joel took a risk, blurring the lines and potentially jeopardizing not just his friendship with your dad, but also the bond he shared with you by being so affectionate.

Surprisingly, you didn't seem to mind his gestures, and Joel was convinced that your dad hadn't even noticed. Despite the undeniable attraction he felt towards you, a feeling that lingered and intensified with every thought of you, Joel couldn't shake the worry that his actions might have caused a rift.

As days turned into weeks without any word from your dad, Joel's mind raced with doubts. He couldn't help but question if you had confided in your father about his behavior. Perhaps your dad had sensed Joel's infatuation with you, leading to a silence that spoke volumes.

Intrusive thoughts plagued Joel, wondering if you had been uncomfortable with his displays of affection. The fear that you might have someone else in your life to hold onto gnawed at him, leaving him restless and anxious about the potential consequences of his actions.

Joel and your dad used to share conversations daily, a bond that time and life's demands have gradually weakened, particularly with Sarah still navigating middle school. They both acknowledge the need to reconnect more often, yet something always seems to intervene.

But Joel's decision to visit your father in person wasn't impulsive; it was a deliberate choice, driven by a desire to stay for good this time.

No more fleeting visits. This time, it's permanent.

And it's all because of you.

Since your graduation day, you've occupied Joel's thoughts relentlessly. It's more than just an obsession; you're the sole focus of his mind, consuming his every waking moment.

You are the only thing he can fucking think about.

Joel would never dare voice his thoughts to your dad, not just because of his feelings, but also because your father had a history of using his fists to settle matters. If he even suspected a fraction of what Joel's mind was consumed with regarding his daughter... Well, Joel would never be allowed in your home, with your dad likely ensuring Joel carried a permanent reminder of his displeasure.

Despite his reluctance to keep secrets from his lifelong friend, Joel's motivation to act stems from a burning need that is beyond his mere desire to reunite with you.

He doesn't just want to see you again; he craves it with a fervor that borders on desperation. And the only way to satisfy this yearning is to summon the courage to ask for more.

Reconnecting with your dad was pleasant, but the sight of you, standing in the doorway of the home office, unleashes a torrent of emotions within Joel. It's as though he's been trapped in a deep freeze for the past six months, and your mere presence ignites a firestorm within him.

Every curve of your silhouette, every strand of hair framing your face, fuels Joel's desire until it simmers beyond control, all for you.

As you watched him, his gaze never wavered from your presence, taking in the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. He was grateful for the chair that supported him, as he felt the insanely hard erection you gave him.

Your natural grace and beauty had left him breathless, and he struggled to maintain his composure.

All from just being yourself. All without you even trying to do anything. 

You really are just fucking perfect in every way.

You're now an adult, poised to embrace all the challenges and pleasures that adulthood entails. The mere thought sends a shiver of anticipation coursing through you once more, evoking memories of his touch on that unforgettable graduation day.

The intoxicating blend of his woodsy cologne, the creak of his well-worn leather jacket, and the soft fabric of his grey tee shirt against your skin linger in your mind, igniting a longing for more.

The sensation that floods Joel as he lays eyes on you in person after so long defies description.

It takes all his willpower to resist the impulse to stride over and scoop you up, succumbing to the overwhelming desire to claim you as his own and to drag you into your bedroom. But he restrains himself, clinging to the last shreds of his resolve, waiting for any sign from you that you're ready for his embrace.

When your gaze meets his, he witnesses the hitch in your breath, and he can't help but murmur, "Come here, sweetheart." Your response is like a magnetic pull, drawing you into his strong, steadfast arms. As you melt into his embrace, he's struck by the sense of finally being home. You are his home now.

Joel inhales the sweet fragrance of your hair, longing to whisper countless sentiments into your perfect little ear nestled so close to his mouth.

But all he can muster, without risking scaring you away, is a simple declaration in his southern drawl, "I missed you, my little buttercup."

You bury your face into his checkered flannel, your words muffled against his shirt as you confess, "I missed you too, Joel."

Your body instinctively gravitates towards his, fueled by both necessity and reflex. The memory of his last embrace has haunted your thoughts for the past six months, and as his massive, comforting arms envelop you once more, it feels as though you're picking up right where you left off. He feels even better than you remembered, and the mingling scents of his cologne and freshly laundered clothes stir a desire within you to cling to him forever.

Reluctantly, he releases you from the hug, clearing his throat as you take a small step back, managing to squeak out, “Do you want a cup of coffee before you get settled in your new house? You look kinda tired.”

“Sure,” Joel nods, and you sense him hovering behind you as you descend the staircase and enter the kitchen. You can feel his eyes tracing your movements from behind.

You busy yourself preparing the coffee as Joel sets his things down, knowing it'll provide the perfect opportunity to sit down and have a proper conversation.

As Joel takes a seat at the table, his gaze remains fixed on your curves as you move around the kitchen. In that moment, he realizes there's no way he can stay in this house for more than an hour, without confessing his feelings to you.

“You got a boyfriend?”

The sudden question nearly causes you to spill hot water all over your hand, and you freeze, feeling a slight tremble coursing through you.

“Well?” Joel's deep voice sends shivers down your spine, as if you're caught in the midst of the most exhilarating earthquake imaginable. Your mouth hangs open, unsure of how to respond.

“Boyfriend or not?” he repeats, his tone commanding. “Not,” you answer instantly, not minding the question one bit, especially when you see its effect on Joel.

“Good. Perfect,” he rumbles in a low tone.

Turning back to the kitchen counter, the clinking of ceramic cups fills the room, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as the heat spreads throughout your body and to the tips of your ears.

“Cream and sugar?” you ask, turning your head just long enough to inquire.

The sight of your body shifting under your clothes already ignites fantasies in Joel's mind, imagining all the ways he could pleasure you, even right there on your dad's kitchen floor if you desired.

“Joel?” you prompt, breaking him out of his daydream.

“Uh… Sure. Cream and sugar,” he echoes, noticing your continued blush and slight trembling as you prepare the cups. As you approach him with the coffee, the sudden sound of your dad's voice startles you, causing you to drop one cup, which shatters on the floor.

"Sweetheart, are you okay?" he asks, concern etched on his face as he rushes to the sink to run cold water over the affected area.

"I'm fine, Dad. Really," you reply, trying to hide your embarrassment.

"I thought you were gone," you add, unable to keep the annoyance out of your voice.

"I just forgot something. I came back to get it," your father explains, his eyes darting nervously between you and Joel.

Your father's gaze is fixed on Joel, his eyes narrowing as he takes in Joel's obvious concern for you. Anyone could see the way Joel feels about you, and your father's disapproval is palpable.

But you're not a child anymore, and you're tired of your father's disapproval. "Dad, I'm fine. You just startled me, that's all. Why do you always have to sneak up on me like that?" you ask, trying to keep the anger out of your voice.

Joel opens his mouth to speak, but the words don't come. He sighs and shakes his head, gathering the pieces of the broken cup and tossing them in the trash on his way out. The sound of his car speeding away speaks volumes.

"Maybe I should go," Joel suggests, but you wave off his concern.

"Don't worry about my dad. He's been weird ever since I graduated from college," you say, dismissing his concerns.

But Joel knows that your father's suspicions go back further than just this morning. He moves to help you clean up the mess on the floor, ignoring the broken glass and coffee spill. Gently, he takes your hand in his, wincing at the stinging and burn.

"Let's get this under some cold water," he says, leading you to the sink. You lean back against him as he guides your hand under the icy flow, your body yielding to his touch.

"Feel better?" he asks, his voice low and soothing. You nod, leaning into him as the cold water soothes your burn.

Joel's heart races as he holds you, feeling your warmth against him. He knows that your father doesn't approve of him, but he can't help how he feels. He's fallen for you, hard, and he's not going to let your father's disapproval get in the way.

"It feels better now," you whisper, your breath sending shivers down Joel's spine. He moves closer to you, feeling the pressure of your back against his aching cock.

"I can't help but notice how your body is responding to mine," Joel says, his voice low and husky.

"Should we start over?" he asks, leaning down so his mouth is close to your ear.

"You mean with the coffee?" you ask, playing coy. But your body is telling a different story.

"I mean starting over without your dad around," Joel clarifies, moving his hand to stroke the back of your neck.

You turn to face him, looking up into his deep brown eyes. "Just stay," you say, biting your lip.

Joel nods, his hands resting on your hips. "I'm not going anywhere, darlin'," he promises. "I'll be right next door, whenever you need me."

You stand there, close enough to kiss, but Joel holds back. He wants to savor this moment, to make it last.

"I meant what I said that day you graduated," Joel whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. "You feel so fucking good."

His words send a jolt of electricity through your body. You feel his arousal pressing against your back, and he grips your hips, pulling you closer.

You plead with Joel to stay, not just because of how the morning has unfolded but because deep down, you need him by your side.

The words you long to say to Joel linger on the tip of your tongue, but the rush of emotions leaves you speechless. Your heart races as you grapple with the intensity of your feelings, unsure of how to express them.

As you run your hand under the cold water, trying to steady your nerves, you suggest preparing the spare room as a distraction. Anything to divert your thoughts and feelings that are swirling inside you.

The tension between you and Joel crackles in the air, the unspoken desire palpable. His longing mirrors your own, creating a charged atmosphere that leaves you both on edge.

"Is your hand goin' to be okay?" Joel's voice is laced with concern as he looks at you, and you nod in response.

"It's just a minor burn from the coffee," you murmur, trying to focus on the task.

"Shall I make us more coffee?" Joel offers, already cleaning up the mess on the floor. But your attention is drawn to the undeniable presence pressing against your back, sending a rush of sensations through you.

Your heart races as you realize the extent of Joel's desire, his arousal evident in every inch of his being.

"I'm not tired," Joel says, his voice low and intimate as he picks up the broken pieces of the mug.

"And I meant what I said earlier," he adds, his tone dropping to a husky whisper that sends shivers down your spine.

The intensity of the moment overwhelms you, making it hard to focus on anything else. You should feel embarrassed, and remind him of boundaries, but the magnetic pull between you is undeniable.

"What did you mean?" you ask, a hint of defiance in your voice, craving his words like a drug.

His lips curl into a knowing smile as he repeats his earlier statement, his gaze lingering on you suggestively.

"You feel so good," Joel says, his words sending a surge of heat through you, your cheeks flushing with desire.

"Is that why you came back?" you inquire, emboldened by the charged atmosphere between you.

"What do you think?" Joel replies, closing the distance between you, the space crackling with unspoken promises and desires.

You feel trapped, torn between your desires and the weight of your past.

Your hands tremble as you press them against Joel's chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. You slide your fingers down, curling around a button on his flannel shirt.

"My dad, for Sarah," you croak, your voice barely above a whisper. Joel takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling beneath your touch.

"I didn't come back to town just to see your dad," he says, his voice low and steady. "But I don't want to make you uncomfortable either."

He pauses, taking another deep breath before he continues. "What I mean is, what I'm tryin’ to ask you, is could you have feelings for an older man? A man like me, maybe?"

His eyes bore into yours, a half-smile playing at the corners of his lips. You know what he's asking, and your heart races at the thought of giving in to your desires.

"I want to hear it from your lips," he says, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine.

You take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. "I like you a lot, Joel," you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel pauses, his eyes never leaving yours. "But?" he prompts, giving you an out if you need it.

You look up at Joel, your eyes pleading with him to make the decision for you. But there's no hesitation in his gaze. He leans in, pressing his warm lips against your hand, and you feel a jolt of electricity shoot through your body.

"Does it feel like this?" he asks, his voice low and husky. You nod, unable to find the words to describe the heat that's building inside you.

"Do you really want me, darlin'?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. You moan, unable to contain your desire any longer.

"Yes," you gasp, your voice barely audible. "Yes, I want you."

Joel growls, a low, primal sound that sends shivers down your spine. He presses your hand against his stiff erection, and you can feel the heat and hardness of him through his jeans.

You trace the outline of his cock with your fingers, forgetting all about the burn on your hand, the hot coffee, and even your dad and his house. All that matters is the feel of Joel's body against yours, the heat and hardness of him that you've longed for since graduation day.

"Then come here," he growls, leaning down further and taking your face in his palm. You shudder one last breath of uncertainty before the warmth of his mouth over yours means neither of you will ever have to ask that question again.

Joel's lips are soft and tender, but his kiss is urgent and demanding. You feel yourself melting into him, your body responding to his touch with a hunger you've never felt before.

His hands roam your body, exploring every curve and contour, as if he's been waiting for this moment for years. You respond in kind, your hands tugging at his flannel shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

The heat between you builds, until you're both panting and gasping for breath. Joel's hands slip beneath your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that make you dizzy with desire.

Joel can't help himself as he lifts you up and sets you down on the kitchen counter, your legs wrapped around him as he devours your mouth with his own. His hands roam your body, feeling the curves and contours of your figure as if for the first time.

You respond eagerly, your hands tangled in his hair as you deepen the kiss. Joel's touch sends waves of pleasure through your body, and you can feel yourself growing wet with desire.

Joel's hands slip beneath your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that make you gasp with pleasure. You arch your back, pressing yourself against him as you feel his hardness against your thigh.

He makes you purr and moan, fulfilling every fantasy you've ever had. Your hands move down to his throbbing cock, gripping and squeezing him through his denim, but you both know this is just the beginning.

Joel has already crossed the line he set for himself, unable to resist the pull between you. He wants more than just a physical connection; he wants all of you, your heart, your soul, your everything.

He envisions a future with you, a life where you're by his side, where you're free to be yourself, to indulge in every desire and dream. He wants to give you a home, a place where you can be truly happy, where the two of you can explore each other endlessly.

As you catch your breath, Joel eases his hold on you, sensing the need for a moment of clarity. Your smile and the flush in your cheeks speak volumes, reassuring him that you're on the same page.

"Holy shit," you exclaim, breathless and exhilarated. Your hands rest on his chest, feeling the strength and warmth of him beneath your touch.

Joel exhales slowly, realizing he may have moved too quickly for you. "Too much, darlin'?" he asks with a chuckle, relieved when you giggle and nod in agreement.

But he sees the worry in your eyes, the need for understanding and space. You grip his flannel, pulling him close for a quick kiss, your words a mix of desire and uncertainty.

"I want this... I want you, Joel. I do," you confess, your voice filled with longing and hesitation.

"Just... not right now, not like this," you trail off, and Joel finishes your sentence, understanding the need for time and space to process everything.

He lifts you off the counter, noting how light you feel in his arms. He watches you pace the kitchen, a mix of emotions playing across your face. He settles on a stool, giving you the space you need to sort through your thoughts.

"I didn't think you were leading me on, and I didn't mean to be so forward," Joel says, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Take your time, process everythin’ darlin’.”

Joel's phone buzzes in his back pocket, and he knows it's your father. He takes a deep breath and answers the call, trying to sound casual. You've stopped pacing but still look dazed, as if you're trying to process what just happened between us.

"Hey, man," Joel greets, hearing your father's voice from his car, still on his way to the office.

"Joel, I'm sorry for how I acted earlier. I guess I'm the one who needs a nap, but I can't afford the time right now," he says, sounding sincere.

Your father has always been honest and upfront, and Joel feels a mix of pride and guilt as he listens to his apology. He knows that your dad will be upset once he finds out about the two of you, but until then, Joel thinks it's best to keep your secret a little longer.

"You don't have to apologize, buddy," Joel says, trying to reassure him. "When do you finish work today?" he asks, already thinking about the time they have left alone together.

More time to take things slow? Joel isn't sure. He wants to savor every moment with you, but he also can't wait to explore every inch of your body.

As your father continues to talk, Joel watches you, his mind filled with thoughts of the two of you together. He knows that things will get complicated soon, but for now, he's happy to be in your presence, to feel your warmth and energy.

"Yeah, I'll see you then," Joel says, ending the call and turning to you. "Are you okay?" he asks, taking a step closer to you.

You nod, still looking dazed, and Joel wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. He knows that the two of you have a lot to talk about, but for now, he's content to hold you, to feel your heart beating against his chest.

The future may be uncertain, but Joel knows one thing for sure - he's never felt this way about anyone before, and he's not about to let you go.

As Joel holds you close, your head resting on his chest, you finally voice the question that's been lingering between you.

"I guess we can't do this sort of thing around my Dad, huh?" you ask, your voice soft against his skin.

Joel strokes your hair gently, his heart full of emotions he never thought he'd feel again. He marvels at how easily and perfectly this moment has unfolded, how right it feels to have you in his arms.

"We probably shouldn't, not yet," Joel replies, his voice tinged with longing. He feels you nod in agreement, and he knows that keeping this secret will be a challenge.

Joel had left town to escape the past, to build a new future for himself and his daughter Sarah. But now, as he returns to the place where it all began, he realizes that his future is intertwined with yours.

He sees a future with you, a life filled with love and possibility. He dreams of a family with you, of building something lasting and meaningful together.

As he holds you in his arms, feeling the warmth of your body against his, Joel knows that this is just the beginning. 

As you and Joel waste no time getting settled in the new house, the air crackles with anticipation. Joel turns the key in the door, and as you step inside, the world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of desire.

Without a word, you set down his bag, and Joel takes your hand, pulling you close. He lifts you effortlessly, spinning you around in a dizzying whirl of passion and need.

The lock clicks shut, sealing you both in a world of raw desire and longing. The house feels like a sanctuary, a place where only you and Joel exist, at least for the next hour or so.

"Aren't you gonna show me around first? I had no idea the inside was so nice," you giggle, your head spinning from the intensity of his touch and the day's events.

"I thought you might like to show me around... your sweet fuckin’ body," Joel rasps in your ear before claiming your lips in a fierce, possessive kiss. Each touch, each kiss, ignites a fire within you, driving you to the edge of reason.

"You tell me if it gets too much, alright darlin'?" Joel murmurs between kisses, his strong arms wrapped around you. You nod eagerly, your body craving his touch, his presence.

With your legs wrapped around his waist, you gravitate towards the nearest soft surface, a luxurious leather sofa in the living room. Joel stops in front of it, but you're consumed by the need for him, the hunger for his touch.

You try to nod, talk, and kiss him all at once, but the overwhelming desire he stirs in you leaves you breathless and unable to form coherent words. "Yeah... fuck... yes, I will," you pant, your body arching into his touch as he explores every inch of you.

Joel lowers you onto the couch, his eyes fixed on you with a hunger that matches your own. He drops to his knees in front of you, parting your legs with a firm grip, his gaze locked on your body with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.

“I’m gonna eat your little pussy, make you come until you beg me to stop,” he says in a firm tone.

His hands move with purpose, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you. You gasp and groan as he explores every inch of you, his fingers and tongue setting your body ablaze with pleasure.

As he delves deeper, his mouth and hands working in perfect harmony, you feel a wave of pleasure building within you, each touch pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

You writhe and moan under his touch, your body responding to his every move with a hunger that matches his own. The room fills with the sounds of your pleasure, the air thick with desire and need.

His elbows prop your knees wide, and half-reclined on the worn leather, you can't help but feel a thrill at the sensations coursing through your body.

The scent of old leather and his cologne mingles with the musk of your arousal, creating a heady mix that only heightens your desire. You're ready for Joel, and you know it won't take long for him to bring you to the edge.

With a rough yank, he tears your panties aside, the sound of fabric rending adding to your arousal. You never knew you could feel this horny, and every moment with Joel only intensifies your desire.

He takes a moment to admire your slick folds, his thick fingers gently parting your lips. You grip his silver-flecked curls tighter as he moves down to taste you, your body trembling with anticipation.

Your moans fill the room, mingling with Joel's deep groans of pleasure. His tongue finds its mark, and you can't help but cry out, your body writhing under his touch.

Joel's mouth covers you completely, his tongue replacing his fingers as he explores every inch of your sex. You're on the brink of climax, your body trembling with need.

"Be patient, darlin'," Joel whispers hoarsely, his voice filled with desire. He grips your thighs, pushing them wider apart until his massive head is pressed between them.

You shift your grip to his broad shoulders, your breath coming in ragged gasps as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

"Joel... Joel," you moan, trying to tell him how close you are, how much you want him. But all that comes out are animalistic sounds of pleasure.

Joel's body quakes with silent laughter, his voice deep and reassuring as he promises you can come all night. You trace the outline of his jaw, your body trembling with need as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

If heaven exists, you're sure you've found it in Joel's arms.

AN: I'm such a fool to think that this would be a one-shot... ya'll this is now a mini-series. Don't worry... this will be a two to three-chapter kinda series. 🤍

[yunniverse]

Apples

౨ৎ PAIRING— choi jongho x reader

౨ৎ GENRE— fluff, established relationship, fem!reader

౨ৎ WARNINGS— little bit of angst, mostly fluff, jongho’s affectionate

౨ৎ WORD COUNT— 1.3k

౨ৎ SUMMARY— jongho is uncharacteristically affectionate tonight, but you have no quarrels with that.

౨ৎ A/N— happy belated birthday, jongho! <3 feedback is appreciated and thanks for reading, lovelies!

Are you sure you want to try this?" You frown at Jongho, shooting him a small glare, "Yes! I'm strong." "I didn't say you weren't," he responds, quirking an eyebrow at you in amusement as he watches you hold the apple. "So, don't smirk at me," you pout, making him laugh. "I'm not!" he defends. "I think it's cute you want to try." "Cute?" you scoff. "I just want to prove I'm as good as my boyfriend." "You are, honey," Jongho tells you, grabbing an apple himself, sticking his thumbs in the top, successfully breaking it in half with barely any effort. "Show off," you grumble, causing him to stand up from his chair at the table, coming behind you to slide his hands around your waist, tugging you backwards into him, his chin resting on your shoulder. You try pushing him off of you, but he doesn't budge, as if mocking you with his strength, even though you know that's not what he's doing. "Jongs," you whine, gripping the apple a little harder. "I'm trying to prove myself!"

"You could try to do this for another half hour," Jongho tells you before squeezing you a little tighter, tilting his face toward you, causing your heart to start racing. You haven't been dating Jongho for long, only six months, and he isn't usually one for physical touch. So, this is new. "Or… we could go watch a movie on the couch with some popcorn." "So, this is what you do when you want something?" you ask, turning to face him, your face only a few inches from his. "I just want cuddles," Jongho tries his puppy eyes, which he knows you can't resist. "At least break this apple for me," you turn in Jongho's grip, facing him, as he looks down at the apple in your hands. "I'm so annoyed with it, since it's the one that hasn't broken for like an hour." "Thirty minutes, but yeah," Jongho corrects, causing you to shoot him a playful glare, shoving him a little. His fingers brush yours as he takes the apple, causing a blush to fill your cheeks, which Jongho notices but simply smiles. "Hey, it matches your hair," you point out, giggling, as you ruffle his red hair.

"Oh, yeah?" he asks, trying to look up at his own hair, making you laugh even harder. Once you calm down, Jongho smiles softly at your cuteness before gesturing to the apple. "If I can do this, do I get a kiss?" he asks cheekily, giving you a small wink. "Bold," you respond, catching his gaze, as you smile shyly, knowing he's joking, since you both haven't kissed yet. "I'll think about it." Placing his thumbs in the top, Jongho watches you as you watch his fingers. Five seconds later, the apple is broken and you're once again in shock. "How do you do that?" you ask, still staring at his hands and the apple halves. "I work out," Jongho shrugs, making you look up at him with an offended look. "I work out, too!" you exclaim, causing him to laugh. "It takes a little while," Jongho teases, reaching up to brush his thumb across your cheek. "You have to work at it." "You're being really affectionate today," you point out, mumbling a little because of the close proximity. He shrugs, booping your nose. Your mouth literally falls open, and Jongho laughs, his smile bright, as he catches your wide eyed gaze. "So…" he trails off, moving a little closer. "Where's my kiss? I earned it, didn't I?" "You were serious?" you ask, astonished. "Would I have said it if I wasn't?" Jongho asks, tilting his head slightly. "I thought you were joking," you whisper, feeling your heartbeat speed up the closer he gets. "Can I?" Jongho asks softly, his voice barely audible, his thumb brushing against your cheek again. You nod and he closes the gap, his lips meeting yours in a super soft, gentle kiss, just like you expected a kiss from Jongho to be. You respond immediately, your hand moving to rest behind his neck, pulling him a little closer. He pulls away a few moments later, and you can't help but smile, overwhelmed by happiness. "So, cuddles and a movie?" Jongho tries again, the puppy eyes reappearing, this time with a joyful glint in his eyes. "I'd love that," you tell him, leaning in for another quick peck before you hop down from the chair at the counter. Jongho follows you as you toss a grin over your shoulder at him, reaching for his hand and intertwining your fingers with his. "I just got a brilliant idea!" "What's that?" Jongho asks you, tilting his chin up at you in question, squeezing your hand affectionately. "If you kiss me enough times, maybe your strength will transfer to me and I can break apples!" you bounce on your feet, smiling cheekily at him.

Jongho stares at you like you're crazy for a second before he chuckles, shaking his head, "If you want more kisses, just ask, baby." "Oh, I'm your baby now?" you quirk an eyebrow, trying to hide how flustered you are by the new nickname. "Do you want to be?" he asks, sounding a little teasing. "Yes!" you answer quickly, then clear your throat, laughing shyly. "I mean, sure, why not?" "You're so cute," Jongho smiles, his real smile you love so much. "You're cuter," you tell him, booping his nose like he did to yours earlier, as you pull him toward the couch, plopping down on the soft cushions. He doesn't sit down at first, standing above you, so you pout up at him, tugging his hand and the sleeve of his soft, black sweater. "C'mere," you tell him. "I have to get the snacks," he laughs, acting like he's trying to escape from your grip, even though you know he could easily get out. "You could get them later," you pout once again, really wanting him close. "Hm," he hums, thinking, before finally giving in, sitting next to you. You immediately cuddle into him. About fifteen minutes into one of your favorite movies, you glance up at Jongho, who is invested in the movie, his eyebrows pinched together slightly. "Jongs?" you whisper, causing him to hum, still watching the movie. "You're really talented," you finish. Jongho looks down at you, smiling softly, "Thank you, honey." "And pretty," you continue, reaching up to brush some of his hair out of his eyes. He chuckles a little, shaking his head at you, knowing something is coming. "And strong," you finish cheekily, sliding your hand down to his bicep, squeezing slightly. You're actually a little shocked at the amount of muscle. "What are you doing?" Jongho asks, an amused look on his face. "Nothing," you respond slowly, biting your lip a little. "Just imagining how good you'd look in a muscle shirt." "You're missing the movie," Jongho tries to change the subject, causing you to squeeze his arm a little harder, grabbing his other hand with your free hand, playing with his fingers. "I've seen it before," you counter, sticking your tongue out playfully. "Well, I havent," Jongho responds pointedly, and you roll your eyes, but you smile at his obvious shyness. As the movie continues, you intertwine your fingers with Jongho's, causing him to glance down at your joined hands with a soft smile on his lips. "Jongho?" you question softly after a few minutes of silence.

"Hm?" Jongho hums yet again, this time sparing you a glance. When he does, he notices your puckered lips, and he laughs, granting you your wish. After the gentle kiss, you sigh contentedly, leaning into him a little more, squeezing your hand into his. "You know," you start after a few moments, making Jongho look down at you, once again taking his eyes off the movie, which has been all but forgotten by you at this point. "If Atiny ever asks, I can tell them." "Tell them what?" Jongho asks curiously, leaning his head against the top of yours, where it's resting comfortably on his shoulder. "That you taste like apples."

[elllisaaa]

Seokmin bf thoughts!??!! Plzzzzz 🥺

BF!SEOKMIN who is so fucking whipped for you, and so cute and sweet, you don't know what you did to get so lucky.

i have to start by talking about his smile because he just has such a pretty smile, i would die for that smile. and even if he has that beautiful smile, seokmin's number one goal in life is to make you laugh and be happy. he's always ready to do some stupid things if it gets you to smile or giggle, and you never spend a day by his side without breaking down in laughter at least one time. seokmin is very caring and attentive to your every need. for example, he's always asking you about how your day went and he wants every little detail, even the ones you consider useless. he loves it when you share everything with him, and he gets so involved in every story or drama you tell him about - he remembers everything and he needs updates. seokmin will do the same though, telling you all about some dramas that happen behind the scenes. it's not rare for the both of you to gossip all night, and you're like two best friends who are talking about the same people over and over and finishing the session by "but who are we to judge them ?". seokmin is both your bestie and your boyfriend, and you love him for that.

"by the way babe, how did yooha's date go ?" - "it's a long story, sit down." - "oh my god, tell me all about it, i'm all ears !"

cuddles, cuddles and cuddles. so many cuddles because he needs to feel close to you all the time. he always seek your touch and your presence by his side. he especially loves it when you fall asleep when you're laying on his chest, and he might have some photos because you're just too cute. seokmin also loves to fall asleep on your chest sometimes - he gives a lot of love, but he needs to be loved too and just wants to be in your arms and feel your hands caress his back up and down to help him relax. his hugs are very soothing, and everytime you're not doing well, you know you just need to ask him to fall into his arms. seokmin takes pride into knowing that he's your safe place, and everytime you come to him, he feels like he did his job as your boyfriend. he texts you a lot throughout the day, to check in on you and update you on what happened to him. but the most important thing is the boyfriend material photos he sends you everyday. you lose your mind every time and when he finds out you keep a folder of these photos, he genuinely tears up. he lends you his clothes very often, his heart melting when he comes home to see you wearing his hoodie, all cozy on the couch. that only entices him into cuddling with you immediately, and you welcome him with open arms.

"it feels good to be home… i never want you to let me go, i'm too comfortable."

seokmin loves to try new places with you - be that cafés, restaurants, bakeries or even libraries. anything that the both of you love, you're going to go together and review it like you're professionals even if you're not. you both have a lot of fun during these hangouts. he also has gifted you a little box filled with tickets that you can give him anytime you want, and that means that he has to take you out on a date. seokmin literally has a list in his phone with everything he wants to do with you ready, and he always keeps the location you’re going to secret until the last minute. he never fails to tell you how pretty he thinks you are all the time, but when you dress up for a night out, he's even more extra. whenever you're stepping out of your bedroom in an outfit a little fancier than usual, he's the type to fake passing out because of how gorgeous you look. it never fails to make you laugh and it's seokmin's way of reminding you that he's not ashamed to show to the world how obsessed with you he is.

"wait, i need a second." - "seokmin, please, just tell me if it looks good or not." - "baby, i don't think good is strong enough, i need to create a new word to describe how beautiful you are."

BF!SEOKMIN who's whipped for you and your body and the way you make him feel, he just wants to make you feel as good as possible.

seokmin's only goal is to pleasure you as much as you want, and he does that perfectly. foreplay is on a whole different level with him - it's an art. sometimes he doesn't even need to push his cock into you for the both of you to feel satisfied. if he could die in between your thighs, he would, and once he gets a taste of you, he doesn't stop until you're a trembling mess and that his whole face is covered in your juices. seokmin also loves mutual masturbation, having his fingers deep inside of your cunt and your hand stroking his cock up and down while you're sitting on his thighs and making out with him is his definition of heaven. another form of foreplay that he likes is when you're riding his thigh, because let's be honest, he has such pretty thighs, it would be a crime not to use them. seeing you come undone on top of him is literally driving him crazy.

"that's so hot baby, you're so fucking hot, i could cum just looking at you…"

he's constantly complimenting you and your body, how sexy you are and how good you're making him feel. but seokmin also needs to hear that he's doing good for you too, it gets him going when you're calling him your good boy. you want to edge him even if he's so sensitive and that he doesn't think he can handle it ? he'll let you. you want him to keep fucking you after he's came already ? he'll do it. whatever it takes for you to tell him he's doing good, he will do it. seokmin actually loves how dominant you become whenever he asks you if he's doing well. suddenly, you become much more assertive and teasing, and it's so attractive for some reasons. the way you're telling him what to do and if he can cum or not is making him dizzy most days, and he craves your praise. even when he's the one on top, you're sometimes taking control and he lets you because he wants to please you.

"am i doing good ? please, tell me that i've been good…"

seokmin is obsessed with your whole body but your breast is something he can never get enough of. he encourages you to wear tops or dresses with deep cleavages only because it gives him a better view of your pretty tits. when you're wearing pretty lace bras that squish your boobs together just for him, he cannot resist the urge to bury his face in between them. your chest is constantly covered in bite marks and hickeys because seokmin just needs to have his mouth on them whenever he sees them. so naturally he would go crazy if you ever let him fuck your tits. the moment you push your boobs together to squeeze his dick in between them, he's going cross-eyed and he cannot stop moaning the whole time. the way you even let him cover your chest and face in his cum has him ready to go again even if he just orgasmed. generally, he prefers to cum on your chest anyway, pulling out just in time to let you stroke his dick and help him shoot his load onto your pretty tits.

"can i cum on your boobs pretty please ? fuck ! you look so beautiful like this, all mine."

[archivequinn]

Can you please do an eddie angst? I love your fluff. I'm in the mood to read angst.

I've never tried angst before, but I hope you like it!

Summary: You and Eddie are breaking up.

On a cold winter evening, the wind was fiercely rattling the window frames, the city was shrouded in darkness, but inside the house, it was warm and filled with excitement for Eddie’s arrival. You read the postcard he had sent once more: “I’ll be there tomorrow night, princess. Wait for me. I miss you so much.” The words, written in Eddie’s messy handwriting, made you feel as though you could hear his voice. You had been apart for a month; such a long separation was unusual for you, and tonight would be a reunion where everything would fall back into place.

Finally, you heard the sound of an engine outside the door. Your heart began to race, a mixture of excitement and nervousness. It felt as though your feet weren’t touching the ground. You ran to the door, your hands trembling slightly.

Eddie was there. His face looked tired, but the sparkle in his eyes and the scent of the wind clinging to him spoke volumes. He seemed like a man who had let go of all his burdens and was now overflowing with you. Smiling, he took a step toward you. “I’ve missed you so much…” he murmured, his voice breaking slightly. Then he opened his arms and hugged you tightly.

His breath brushed past the side of your neck, warming you like a gentle breeze, and the rhythm of his heartbeat mingled with yours. The hug lasted so long that it felt as if all the troubles in the world had disappeared in that embrace. Tears welled up in your eyes; his warmth, his scent, his presence enveloped you completely. “Eddie…” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He whispered back, “I know…”

You went inside. Eddie’s eyes wandered around the room, as if he was trying to recall a memory from a long time ago. “I even missed the smell of this house,” he said with a slight smile. Hats and scarves piled in a corner, the small details seemed to remind him of your shared story. He took you in his arms again, pressed his lips to your forehead, and closed his eyes. In that moment, time truly seemed to stand still. It was just the two of you; the noise, chaos, and confusion of the world were nothing more than a distant echo.

Finally, Eddie pulled back slightly, though his hands still rested on your waist. Looking at your face, he began to speak excitedly. “I have so much to tell you!” he said, his eyes gleaming. He talked about his adventures on the road, the places he had seen, the excitement on stage. “One time, a light bulb burst in the middle of a performance, and the whole set almost fell apart, but I shouted so much that people thought it was part of the show!” His laughter lit up the room, but a growing unease was building inside you.

During dinner, you noticed that Eddie kept glancing at the clock. At first, it seemed insignificant—maybe he was tired, or something was on his mind. But the peace of the evening gradually turned into tension. Finally, Eddie leaned slightly toward you, taking a deep breath. He put his fork down and placed his hands over yours.

“Listen,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. In his eyes, there was both happiness and deep indecision. “There’s something I need to tell you.” He paused for a moment, biting his lip as if weighing his words. Then, taking a deep breath, he continued. “I’ve received a new offer. A big tour… but I need to start immediately. I have to leave in a few hours.”

He looked at you, and you tried to understand the turmoil in his eyes. “This has been my dream. You know that, don’t you? You’re proud of me, right?” he said, his voice fragile like shattered glass.

“Of course, Eddie,” you replied, forcing a smile.

Eddie’s words trailed off, and there was an intensity behind his gaze. You looked into his eyes, but the words stuck in your throat, tangled with the weight of your emotions. “How long is the tour?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Eddie took a deep breath, placing his hands on the edge of the table, his eyes cast downward. “A year,” he said. His voice wavered, and the strong, energetic man you knew now seemed like a boy struggling to find the right words. “We’ll be apart for a year.”

Those words felt like they had sucked all the oxygen out of the room. You felt a heaviness in your chest, struggling to breathe. When you looked into Eddie’s eyes, you saw both determination and fear. “Eddie…” you began, but couldn’t continue. The words collided in your mind, replaced by the sorrow you felt.

“Eddie, how can we handle such a long separation? A month was already so hard; a year… it feels impossible,” you said, your eyes filling with tears. You hadn’t expected them to come so quickly, but you couldn’t hold them back in front of Eddie.

Eddie reached out and held your hands. “I know. But I have to do this; I’m doing this for us. You’ve always been with me in this dream. I can’t do it without you,” he said, his voice cracking. In his eyes, there was both a plea and a deep guilt.

“Eddie, you say you’re doing this for us, but how meaningful can it be without us?” you asked. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you forced yourself to keep speaking. “You’re everything to me. But to not see you, to miss you, to think of you every day for a whole year… it will destroy me.”

A look of pain appeared on Eddie’s face, as if you had taken a piece of his heart and placed it in his hands. He ran his fingers through his hair, lowering his head. “I can’t do this without you,” he murmured, his voice so soft it was almost inaudible. But then he raised his eyes to meet yours, a flicker of hope dancing within them. “But maybe we can figure it out together. I want you to come with me. Let’s go on this tour together. I want to live my dreams with you by my side. Please, think about it.”

The moment you heard his proposal, your heart clenched with both joy and sorrow. The thought of being with Eddie, waking up every morning to his smile, warmed you for a brief moment. But then reality reminded you of itself. “Eddie, no… I can’t do that,” you said, your voice cracking. “I have a life here. A job, a routine. Leaving everything behind to be with you sounds like a beautiful dream, but… that’s not how things work in real life.”

Eddie’s eyes widened, as if your words had deeply wounded him. “Don’t I mean anything to you?” he asked, his voice fragile and desperate. “I don’t want to live this dream without you. But if you’re not with me, living while missing you this much will tear me apart.”

“Eddie…” you said, your voice choking amidst sobs. “You mean everything to me. But sometimes love isn’t enough. Sometimes the realities of life overshadow our dreams.”

Eddie remained silent for a moment, as though your words echoed in his mind. Tears streamed down his face, completely breaking the strong mask he usually wore. He reached out for you, but you stayed where you were, your eyes locked on his. “I love you,” he said, his voice cracking like shattered glass. “But how can we make this work? We have to find a way… I can’t do this without you.”

You brought your hands to your face, wiping away tears that only returned immediately. “I know you’ll never stop loving me,” you said, your voice trembling. “And I’ll always love you, too. But maybe loving each other isn’t enough to change our situation right now. And maybe… maybe this is the best we can do for now.”

Eddie took a step back, the desperation and heartbreak on his face resonating throughout the room. He closed his eyes, his lips moving silently as though searching for words but saying nothing. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he took a trembling breath and opened his eyes to look at you again. “I don’t want to say goodbye to you,” he said. “I never want to say goodbye to you.”

In that moment, time seemed to stop. As you gazed at each other in silence, everything felt both unbearably heavy and inexplicably light. Eddie wrapped his arms around you once more, holding you so tightly it felt like he was trying to pull you into his very being. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice breaking with sobs. “I’ll always love you.”

In that embrace, as you felt each other’s heartbeats, you both wished this moment could last forever. But you knew; even if this wasn’t a goodbye, nothing would be the same after this.

Eddie held you for a while longer, but the embrace no longer carried warmth—it carried a weight. You both knew this was the final connection before you let go of each other. Eddie’s breath was uneven, and each time it hit your shoulder, your heart broke a little more. His hands moved gently over your back, as if trying to etch the feeling of this touch into his memory.

Finally, he pulled back slowly. His eyes were red, yet they still held a deep resolve. He cupped your face with his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears on your cheeks. “Princess,” he said, his voice low and trembling, “I want you to take care of yourself. Promise me, okay? Wrap your scarf if it’s cold, don’t catch a chill at night. Don’t forget to eat properly. And… please, no matter what, try to be happy.”

You could only nod. You wanted to speak, to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. The tears streaming down your face silenced you. Eddie’s eyes carried the pain of a farewell that would last a lifetime. He looked away for a moment, his gaze falling to the floor.

He reached for the chain around his neck, a guitar pick hanging from it. It was his favorite pick—the one he used on stage, the one that reminded you of him more than anything else. His hands trembled slightly as he removed the chain. He held the pick in his palm for a moment, looking at it before meeting your gaze again. “I’ve carried this with me everywhere. But now, it needs to stay with you,” he said.

He placed the chain around your neck, his fingers lingering on the pendant for a moment before pulling away gently. “Always keep this with you. If you ever feel lonely, let this necklace bring you back to me,” he said, his eyes glistening with tears. Your hands instinctively reached for the necklace, and as the coolness of the pick touched your palm, the knot in your throat tightened even more.

“But Eddie,” you said, your voice muffled by sobs, “Will we ever see each other again?” The words spilled out desperately, tears streaming uncontrollably down your face.

Eddie paused for a moment, looking straight into your eyes. The depth in his gaze carried a thousand words he wanted to say, but only a few made it past his lips. “I promise you,” he said, his voice broken but resolute. “No matter where I am, I’ll always think of you. I’ll always write to you. I’ll send you a postcard from every place I visit. Even if you forget me, those postcards will remind you of me.”

Those words gave you a small sense of solace, but your heart only grew heavier. Eddie took your hands in his and held them tightly. “But no matter what, you’ll always be here for me,” he said, placing a hand over his chest. “You’ll always be with me.”

Eddie slowly released your hands and let his eyes roam over you one last time. It was as if he was trying to etch every detail of you into his memory, knowing he might never see you again. “I love you,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Then he turned away. For a moment, he hesitated, as though he wanted to turn back and say something, but he kept moving forward. His steps were heavy but determined. You stood frozen in place, tears filling your eyes as you watched him go.

When Eddie reached the door, your breath caught, hoping he might turn back. But he didn’t. He opened the door and stepped outside. The air was freezing, the cold wind brushing against your face as you whispered after him, “Eddie…” But your voice was swallowed by the wind.

The door closed slowly. You ran to the window for one last glimpse of him. Outside, as snowflakes fell, you saw Eddie’s back. He was leaving. His steps quickened, as though he was afraid that stopping would make him turn around. His hands were shoved into his coat pockets, his head bowed. And you stood there behind the glass, tears streaming down your face, feeling your heart shatter.

Eddie didn’t look back. But you knew; you could feel that he was crying too.

credit for divider: @/strangergraphics taglist: @multyfangirl @nicholaschavezslut69 @t-folklore13

[1-800-kami]

margaret - lana del rey | nanami kento

.. just when you thought nanami left behind nothing, you discover a letter on the top of his closet... addressed to you.

content: 0.9k words, anime spoilers, fem!reader, small banana fish allusion at the end because i hate my life

author's note: i'm not okay.

it’s october 31st, 2019, and you think you’ve finally gained enough courage to clean out kento’s closet.

one year. that’s exactly how long it’s been since his death. ever since you found out that your fiance was a part of the thousands who fell victim to the shibuya incident, the days have blurred into one another. each day seems monotonous and devoid of life without the man who promised to spend the rest of his life with you.

each day, you just dream of the day that you’ll be able to see him again.

still, no one was using the clothes from his closet. you knew your fiance would’ve preferred it if you donated his clothes to someone who could actually use them. you’ve been putting it off, since you knew that the smell of his clothes would just fill your heart with yet another round of painful memories. despite that, you knew you had to do it one day.

you haven’t touched his closet since the day he died. his clothes still smell like his perfume, and everything is neatly folded. you take one of his shirts with a shaky breath and revel in his scent, eyes watering knowing that even though his scent is still there, he isn’t.

and that makes you feel alone. fuck, you feel so awfully alone. 

your eyes scan through the entire closet, wondering where you’re gonna start with the cleaning. then, something sticking out of the top of your closet catches your eye. it seems so deliberately placed- wait, is that an envelope?

standing on your tiptoes and taking the envelope, you gasp–realizing that it's a letter addressed to you. from kento.

as far as you knew, your fiance didn’t leave anything behind for you other than a few broken promises. your engagement ring still rests on your ring finger, and it breaks your heart knowing that your wedding day will never come. he promised to marry you, that your honeymoon would be in kuantan, malaysia; and eventually–you’d buy a small house there just for the two of you, where sorcerers and curses are finally alien words and the rest of your days are spent out on the beach.

of course, none of that would ever happen now. you live knowing that your engagement ring will never be replaced with a wedding ring.

still, you thought that you’d live the rest of your life knowing that nanami never left anything behind for you... but this letter was new. you open it up, finding words scrawled in the handwriting that you knew all too well.

“to y/n—my love,

if you’re reading this, then it means that i’m dead, and i’m sorry.

i’m writing this letter because i know that as a jujutsu sorcerer, coming back home is never guaranteed. and yet, if i ever die, i don’t want you to be left behind with nothing. so one day, you’re going to have to clean out my closet, and you’re eventually going to find this letter.

i’m writing this hoping that you’re never going to have to read this, and i’ll throw this letter away eventually because i lived to come back home to you. 

but we both know that there’s a chance i might not come home.

living to see the next day isn’t guaranteed for any of us. not for me, and not even for people like gojo. so if it ever comes to this, i want you to live for the both of us, love. it’s difficult but i truly don’t want to hold you back from being happy just because i’m gone. fall in love again and live your life. then, when i see you again, you can tell me everything, and i’ll be excited to hear all about it.

i can hear you outside right now humming while making dinner. i want the rest of our life to be domestic like that—but sometimes, life isn’t always fair.

i remember getting photos of us printed out, because whenever i would be out on a mission, i found myself missing you all the time… so i always kept photos of you and me in my phone case. i want you to have these photos because they kept me going whenever i wasn’t able to be with you. i hope you can eventually learn to do the same, love.

just know that i love you. i love you so, so much, dear. you’re my reason to live. you’re the reason why i love coming home every day—you’re the reason i work as hard as i can so you’ll never have to read this letter. and i really do hope that you’ll never, ever read this.

i love you and i’ll repeat it until the entire world knows it. i’m sorry that i never got to marry you. i’m sorry that we never got to go to kuantan together. i’m sorry that i never got to do the things that i promised i would. 

even though i’m sorry for everything, you might’ve noticed that i haven’t said goodbye. that’s because i won’t say goodbye, because eventually, there’ll come a time when the stars align and we’ll meet again, no matter how far apart we are. and i can’t wait to see you again…

…because then, i’ll make everything up to you.

love, 

kento.”

[ghsface]

I knew it, i know you - Matt Sturniolo

Sumary: You return to a place in the past, where memories and guilt haunt you as you find your ex, facing what you could never let go of. (Alternative ending)

Warnings: angst, break up, insecurities (on the part of the protagonist) guilt, happy ending, I think that's all.

A/n: So I had to post this since you guys asked for it, btw happy new year my luvs thanks for this year and thanks for all the support I love you so much<3 🎀🤍

𝜗𝜚 Part one , part two (final)

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

The streetlights barely illuminated the path as you walked to the parking lot. The cold air hit your face, cutting you like little knives, as you tried to keep your composure. You had left the restaurant in a hurry, your heart in your mouth and Matt’s words echoing in your head like an endless echo. His gaze, that mix of pain and disappointment, was like a blow you couldn’t dodge.

You climbed into the car with shaking hands, slamming the door shut as if that could stop the chaos inside you. For a moment, you just stood there, hands clenching the steering wheel, breathing deeply to keep from breaking down. “It’s for the best,” you repeated to yourself over and over, but you weren’t sure if you believed it anymore.

You started the engine, and low music filled the silence. You drove aimlessly, letting the noise drown out your thoughts, even though you knew it was useless. Every corner, every street, seemed to be filled with memories: his laugh when you did something clumsy, his fingers intertwined with yours, his voice telling you everything would be okay.

Finally, you pulled into a dark park, the kind of place where no one would come looking for you. You turned off the engine and stood there, letting the weight of everything you’d been avoiding fall on you all at once. A tear slid down your cheek before you could stop it. And then another. And another. Until you were crying like you hadn’t in months, your face in your hands, your throat closed.

“Why can’t I be enough?” you whispered into the void, your voice broken and almost inaudible.

Then, a knock on the window made you jump. You looked up quickly, wiping your tears awkwardly. And there he was. Matt. Standing in the dim light of the nearest streetlight, his hands in his pockets and an expression you couldn’t quite decipher.

You hurried out of the car, though your legs were shaking. “What are you doing here?” you asked, trying to sound firm but failing miserably.

He took a step towards you, his eyes locked on yours. “I followed you.”

You frowned, confused and alarmed at the same time. “Why?”

Matt sighed, his shoulders tense. “Because I couldn’t let you go again.”

The words hit like a bucket of cold water. “Matt, you shouldn’t have come.”

“Let me talk,” he interrupted, his voice hard but not cold. He took another step towards you, closing the distance between the two of you to almost nothing. “I loved you, I love you, like I’ve never loved anyone. And when you walked away, I thought it was my fault, that I wasn’t enough for you. But tonight, seeing you, I understood something. You didn’t leave because you didn’t love me. You did it because you were broken. Because you thought walking away would save me from the mess you think you are.”

You tried to respond, but the words caught in your throat. He was right, and that hurt more than anything he could have said.

“I didn’t want to drag you down with me,” you finally managed, your voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t want you to carry my insecurities, my fears.”

“Do you really think I couldn’t handle that?” Matt shook his head, his eyes burning with an intensity you’d never seen before. “Don’t you understand that all I wanted was to be with you? That I didn’t care how broken you were because I’m broken too, and together we could have faced it.”

His words broke something inside you. The tears came back in full force, and this time you didn’t try to stop them. “I’m so sorry,” you murmured, shaking. “I’m sorry for everything, Matt.”

He didn’t say anything. He just took you in his arms with an almost desperate strength, as if he was afraid you would vanish into thin air. You clung to him, letting the warmth of his body soothe the cold that had been in your chest for months.

“Don’t go again,” he whispered against your hair, his voice cracking slightly.

“I won’t,” you promised, your voice choked with tears.

When you finally pulled away, his eyes met yours, and in them you saw something you had long forgotten: hope.

“I want to fix this with you,” you said, a new determination in your voice.

Matt smiled, that smile that always made you feel at home. “Then let’s start now.”

Together they walked to a nearby bench, sitting under the starry sky. They talked for hours, opening their hearts, facing their fears, and promising to never let silence tear them apart again.

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly, and feel free to leave a request ✮

Tags... @matthewsroses @sophand4n4 @strnilolover @lolastrniolo @marrykisskilled @sweetshuga

[cancerian-woman]

klonnie au|inspired by the haunted mansion: For over a thousand years Klaus has loved and mourned his former wife, Bonnie. He has searched and discarded many companionships, but no one has been able to love and understand him like Bonnie did. Klaus has forcibly adapted to life without her, but on his journey to break his curse, he sees Bonnie following around a certain doppelgänger. He knows in his heart that Bonnie has returned to him and he's going to need his siblings' help getting her back.

An excerpt from this fic:

Bonnie set her skepticism aside as she sat her duffle bed on the large vintage ottoman of the Mikaelsons spare bedroom. Rebekah planned her birthday sleepover for her fellow cheerleaders weeks ago. This “holiday” was extra special to Bonnie’s physics partner, as her older brothers would be turning home from their business trip. While Rebekah has only been at Mystic Falls High for four weeks, Bonnie oddly trusted her like a sister.

The little witch was the first to arrive at the Mikaelson mansion. With whispers of magic in the house Bonnie couldn’t help but investigate. As a newbie witch, she wanted to find any source of new information possible. Her bedroom for the night was vintage styled and decorated with vibrant flowers in every corner. The smell of citrus hit her nose and she couldn’t be more pleased.

Bonnie did a twirl in the mirror admiring Rebekah’s choice in silk nightgowns and headbands. The witch saved herself some preparation time by pinning up her curled hair. Her peer did inform her since she was there first, she got to choose the red gown specifically. When was the last time her life was centered around an enjoyable night and not the struggles of being supernatural?

“You look beautiful,” Rebekah grinned, and stepped into the bedroom. “I could not imagine my birthday without you. You have been the kindest friend.”

Bonnie quickly accepted the hug. She felt a sense of magic within Rebekah but trusted she’d tell the truth on her own terms. Whether that be as a witch, werewolf or vampire. This girl was kind and it wouldn’t be fair though her friends suggested otherwise to call her out. Besides, Bonnie hadn’t even met the rest of the family. The cheer squad’s first night at the Mikaelsons wasn’t going to be filled with drama, not on Rebekah’s day.

“Wouldn’t miss your birthday for the world,” Bonnie replied, giving Rebekah an extra squeeze. “I can help you set up.”

Rebekah laughed at that. “Nonsense, darling, I can handle everything. Take a tour of my home.”

“Are you sure?” Bonnie asked, with her eyes wide. “What if I helped set the tables, arrange blankets or even do the food?”

“Yes, do not worry in my home you are not a guest here,” Rebekah said, sternly with a sigh beginning to turn away. The teen wasn’t even finished applying her makeup-and was still dressed in her bright robe. The rolls were just beginning to slip in her blonde hair. “Just shout if you need me!”

Bonnie checked her phone Caroline and Elena would be running late for different reasons. The others on the squad were on their way or running behind leaving Bonnie to explore on her own.

The Mikaelson manor sent shivers down Bonnie's spine. The place felt like a magical hotspot, giving her goosebumps all over. While she admired the clever vintage-themed designs of the family, she found their home to be dangerously confusing to navigate.

Bonnie decided to go to the nearest room with a light seeping through under the door. She gasped, as she accidentally stepped into a private art space.

The woman in the painting reminded Bonnie of herself before she entered the supernatural world: happy, carefree and filled with gratitude. Magic gave this woman joy. She existed across different eras, and Bonnie couldn't help but notice the time periods, which ranged from 1002 to the 2010s. The artist signed himself as Nik M with sentiments on eternal love. The woman through the art had lived through each era, embodying the luxurious fashion trends of Black women.

Bonnie wouldn’t go so far as to call this woman her doppelgänger, but the similarities were striking. They both had green eyes, golden skin, thick dark hair and other common traits like freckles in the Bennett’s. The young witch tried not to dwell on it, but for a moment, she entertained the unsettling thought of being a doppelgänger and shivered at the idea.

The painting that captivated Bonnie the most was of a woman with curly hair obscuring her face, holding her head high as if magic were being used to promote relaxation. Surrounded by a lush garden, she appeared more content than anything else in the world. In fact, in none of these paintings the woman was never down; she was at peace. As Bonnie reached out to touch the painting, she quickly withdrew her hand when the door opened.

“Not everyday I find a beautiful woman in my study,”

This man was unlike any she had ever seen. His dimpled grin and the curls resting on his shoulders caught Bonnie off guard. He had an enticing scent of expensive cologne that hinted at his attention to appearance. Although his shirt and pants were a simple dark henley with jeans, she couldn't help but notice his preference for a chain featuring a butterfly around his neck. Yes, she noticed an English accent similar to Rebekah’s.

“You can call me Nik, what is your name?” Nik asked, holding his hand out for Bonnie. “I am one of Rebekah’s eldest brothers.”

“Bonnie. Bonnie Bennett,” Bonnie said, returning the shake.

Their enclosed hand jolted upon touch and Bonnie quickly pulled away hoping Klaus didn’t notice.

“I thought Rebekah said you wouldn’t be home until later?”

“It is my sister’s birthday, what type of brother would I be without a surprise?”

“Dramatic entrance, for a smart brother.”

“I strive for the element of surprise, my love.” Nik smiled at the compliment.

Never being alone with a grown man before Bonnie’s mouth went dry and she got flustered. She was met at an uncomfortable crossroad. Be herself or do what her friends would do? She chose herself first.

“I can leave,” Bonnie suggested, not knowing how to flirt properly. “I know art can be really personal. I wouldn’t want to disrespect your space.”

“As an artist, explaining my motives is just as important. Would you desire a tour?” Nik questioned, holding his hand out for Bonnie. “There are hundreds perhaps more here. All of my wife.”

Bonnie reluctantly accepted the warm invitation. Their hands jolted and she felt a fiery passion burn the closer she was to Klaus.

“Do you mind if I ask what happened?” Bonnie asked, as judging the photos of the woman framed on his antique desk.

“She was murdered, and before that, we promised eternal love. We wanted our story to be heard for centuries. I use my art to cope with her loss.” Nik sighed, as he traced a photo of the woman in seventies inspired clothing. “Love will never die, it was rather the purest forms of eternal affection.”

“I’m sorry you lost her. The way you remember her is really beautiful, Nik.” Bonnie compliments, and secretly swoons over him. “Did you ever receive justice for her murder?”

Klaus mockingly grinned at that question. “That person will never be heard from again. Tell me, Bonnie, do you ever think it is possible for souls to be connected?”

“Sounds like something out of a movie.” Bonnie said, brushing off the question. Not wanting to reveal her witch status.

“I think some people are aligned by fate. What goes around will return if it is meant to be.” Klaus pauses, and gazes into Bonnie really studying her beauty.

Klaus's throat went dry as he realized that Bonnie was exactly who Rebekah had described: his small, courageous, and daringly beautiful witch who loved him unashamedly. The red silk gown sparked the most enticing thoughts in his mind, and her skin still bore the sweet scent of honeysuckle that he remembered. However, instead of rushing to confess things that might send Bonnie running for the hills, he chose a softer approach.

“You're distracting, my love, would you like to see other pieces of art? The gardens perhaps?”

Bonnie blushed in response. There was something mystical and comforting about the mystical English artist. She’d rather hear stories about a man who loved his wife so much he kept her immortal in time.

“First, I want to know all about the artist and his work dedicated to making his wife immortal,” Bonnie said, looking into Klaus eyes. She might not tell everyone but she too enjoyed a romantic story from time to time!

For a fleeting moment that almost made the witch step-away she believed she saw Amber colored eyes but blue settled back in.

“Who would I be to disagree with a ravishing woman?” Klaus asked, pulling Bonnie closer to him. He wanted to moan at how sweet she smelled.

Bonnie giggled, and rolled her eyes. “Then I want that tour of the gardens and the pool area please? Rebekah is still getting ready.”

“As you wish,” Klaus obliged, and he noticed how Bonnie loved eye contact and physical touch as he explained his motives though she already understood him.

Klaus didn’t need to taste her blood or have a witch perform a spell to understand his wife had returned back to him. Once the time is right, Bonnie too will believe in their love again. His mother and father sought to keep them separated and Klaus will go to the ends of the earth to ensure Bonnie never leaves his life again.

The original vampire is just grateful Rebekah stalled Bonnie as he removed the paintings of her sleeping, jogging, gardening and anything else without her knowledge that would incriminate him too soon.

[blue-sadie]

Truly Broken

Ascended Astarion x Reader

Summary: with the new power he's gained he doesn't realize the things he's lost in till its to late

Warning: reader death dn = daughters name

Based off this post by @wilsonsmadshow

Yn/3rd person

It was all done the mission was a success and astarion became ascended but something started to tug at your heart, you didn't know what it ment and you dreaded that.

The days following you've said goodbye to your other companions and stuck with astarion who's been acting weird not his usual flirty self.

Instead he was becoming more arrogant and snappy when I ask him something even his affection was turning cold.

"Are you coming to bed astarion" I asked as I rubbed my eyes tiredly and leaned against the wooden doorframe.

He just stared blankly at the wall ignoring my existences "astarion" I murmured a bit louder as I slowly walked to him lifting up my hand to touch him.

My hand wavered I pulled back, this was the first time I ever was nervous to touch astarion I took a step back and cleared my throat to get his attention.

He sighed with annoyance "what is it" he snapped his piercing eyes turning to stare deep into mine, his gaze was different it wasn't filled with affection and love instead it looked like dispar and hatred.

"I-I asked if you wanted to come to bed" I said changing my stance out of nervousness under his gaze.

He rolled his eyes and turned his gaze to the wall "no I don't think I will" he muttered my heart clenched he's never directed his hatred to me maybe somethings bothering him.

"What's wrong astarion" I asked and slowly got closer to him "what's on that mind of yours" I slowly sat of the edge of the arm of the chair he was sitting on.

"Nothings bothering me tav" he snapped and brought one of his hands up to his face and rubbing his eyes.

"I can tell,something is" I whispered and gently lifted a hand to place on his shoulder, he jerked away from me and pushed me to the floor harshly.

I squeaked in pain as I hit the floor "don't you know when to fucking stop" he yelled standing up over me, my body began shaking in fear.

"I told you to leave it and you kept annoying me" he growled stepping towards me making me crawl away with each step.

"Maybe the reason I don't want to go to bed is because your there" he muttered "you repulse me with every fiber of your being" he spat making my heart break.

"You don't mean that" I whispered making him laugh like a mad man "oh trust me darling I do, I've finished my use of you so you can leave" he mocked and pointed at door.

"W-what" my eyes filled with tears "do I need to speak clearer get the fuck out" he shouted, the tears started to fall as I nodded slowly and got to my feet shakily.

"I-if that's what you want" I snuffed and slowly making my way out the room only for a stopping for a brief second hoping he would change his mind.... but he didn't.

I only packed the essentials in a bag before quickly making my way out not daring to look at him once.

my tears blurring my vision even though he hates me I still live him and want him happy If he wants me gone then do be it.

I looked down at my slightly bulging stomach and layed a gentle hand on it, at least a small part of the old him is still with me.

-Time skip-

I raised my hand to my daughters face slowly wiping away her fallen tears "d-dont go" she cried her long grey hair falling into her face.

I smiled sadly "you remind me of your father" I coughed as I felt my time running out "of how we were when we first me" I thought back to all the great memories we had together.

"I love you dn" I whispered with my last remaining energy and slowly closed my eyes as I felt myself slip away.

Dn caught your hand as it feel and kept denying your death as her sobs grew louder "please no" she cried and brought your frail body up to hers "please mom" she sobbed.

Her cries caught the attention of the vampire her mother waited for everyday, astarion peered around a tree.

He bored his teeth already to pounce when he paused catching a wif of a familiar scent his mind whirled trying to figure out who it was.

"Are you ok" he asked stepping out from around the tree into the light, dn jumped at the sound and scurried to wipe her face.

Astarion froze as he saw your body and he felt the pain he felt all those years ago when he left you.

"Y-yn" he fell to his knees "who are you" dn asked stepping infront of you blocking his gaze and he finally looked at her and gasped at the resemblance he saw.

"A-astarion" he whispered dn looked astonished her sadness turning anger, she knew who he was you never kept the knowledge of her father from her.

The only thing you left out was why he left you "you have no right to be here" she muttered shoving him back.

"You were never here so don't think you can mourn her now" she shouted and kept pushing him back in till he was up against the tree.

"She waited for you and you never came" she anger started to turn back to sadness.

Astarion watched and his heart broke as he started to remember the words he said to you and he watched as dn went back to your side turning her back to him.

He chose to leave you and now he's getting the karma he deserves.

"Karmas a bitch"

Tag.List

@neteyamyawne

@sweetirilly

@greekgods15

[la-petite-lapin]

Double the Love | Part Three

Double the Love masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x female civilian!OC Word Count: 1.8k Series warnings (may change between chapters): 18+, Minors DNI, angst, mentions of death, mentions of violence, mentions of poor mental health, injury description, eventual explicit sexual content, polyamory, M/M/F, FMC is bad at feelings, Johnny is a big softie

The guys have a chill day

Ghost yells in his sleep.

I find that out on the second night. His screams wake me up, practically vibrating through the walls of the apartment. I lie awake in bed, not knowing what to do, listening to the faint sounds of Johnny's voice as he consoles him. After a while, a buzzing silence fills the room again.

It takes me a while longer to realise that I won't be able to fall asleep again. Instead, I creep out into the kitchen. It's just gone six a.m. so I just decide to start the day early.

I make myself a mug of hot chocolate - try not to think of those ungodly, heart-wrenching screams - and switch on the TV at a low volume to try and fill the silence. I scroll through my emails, double-checking that the small interior design company I joined last year is doing okay.

This is the first time I've taken any time off since I started. According to my wonderful manager, I deserve a break so they're making me use some of my annual holiday up - meaning I should have two perfect weeks of uninterrupted rest time. Originally, I intended to spend it alone, binging on TV shows and slouching around the apartment in my PJs. Now, it looks like I'll be spending it with two soldiers.

A message alert appears across the top of my screen, so I click on it while I wait for the milk to finish heating up.

JOHN PRICE: Hey Tali, how's it going over there? TALIA KELLER: So far so good. TALIA KELLER: Ghost has night terrors. Johnny seems like he knows what to do though. JOHN PRICE: Ah, yeah. JOHN PRICE: They're getting better. Slowly though.

Jesus. If that was "getting better", then I dread to think what bad looks like.

JOHN PRICE: You're okay with them though? TALIA KELLER: Yeah, it's fine :)

I finish making my hot chocolate then take a seat in my armchair, savouring the low hum of the TV with my eyes closed as I drink. When I'm done, with a belly full of hot chocolate, I start to fall asleep again. I'm almost gone when I hear the soft squeak of a door opening in the hallway.

"Tali? a Scottish-accented voice whispers in the darkness.

I turn around, glancing over the high back of my chair. A pair of blue eyes meet mine. Johnny stands in the hallway, dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt, his expression one of concern. He looks tired; his hair sticking up at odd angles. I can see the padding of the thick gauze bandage over one side of his ribs through his shirt.

"Hey," I say softly, not knowing what else to say.

Johnny bobs his head. After a moment of hesitation, he joins me in the living room, dropping down onto the sofa with a quiet oof. "We woke ye up, didn't we?"

I nod. "Don't worry about it. I'm a light sleeper anyway."

The answering frown that forms on his lips makes me wish I'd just lied. "'m sorry. He hasn't been that bad recently. I think it's being in a new place that's making it worse. He should settle down soon."

"Seriously, don't worry about it."

A beat of silence passes before I say, "So... tell me about you and Ghost."

And, just like that, the discomfort in Johnny's expression melts. His eyes glow with pure adoration, flickering behind me in the direction of their room.

I don't know how much he can tell me - their unit seems pretty secretive, and Ghost seems rather content on keeping me as far removed from their lives as humanly possible - but it's worth a shot. Johnny always seems happy and at ease wherever Ghost is concerned. It's not something that I personally can fathom; Ghost has never made me feel anything other than uneasy.

"We met in the 141. He's my L.T., so it's a bit frowned upon, but we keep ourselves to ourselves so it's never really a problem. On base, we aren't out." A flash of something passes across his face, disappearing almost as quickly at it came. Something akin to disappointment. "John and our mate Gaz are the only people who know 'bout us. Ghost 'as always been private. I did'nae expect anything else."

The corner of my mouth lifts in a half-smile. I pull my legs up to sit cross-legged in the armchair and tilt my head to one side. "I can't imagine him being particularly soft or cuddly."

Johnny barks out a loud laugh. "Nah, that's me. S- Ghost isn't very affectionate. Not physically, anyway. More like acts of service and words of affirmation. That kind of stuff."

"So, what brought you all back to London then?"

"I almost got gutted on our last mission. We're lucky tha's all that happened." He grimaces and lets out a deep sigh, lifting one massive hand to massage his temples. With one hand over his ribs, he settles back against the sofa cushions. "Everything went to shit. Ghost won't admit it, but he's aggravated some old injuries too. And we lost a pilot, and three allied soldiers..."

Alex's face flashes in my mind. His light brown hair mused and messy, his beard short and scruffy - just the way he liked it. The soft, twinkling glow of amusement dancing in his eyes...

"Does that happen often? Losses," I ask before I can think. I don't really want to know - don't want to upset Johnny or hear how common it was for good men to die. Like I don't already know.

Just like that, he's frowning again. "Don't worry 'bout it, lassie. Prolly shouldn't 've said anything. Ruined the moment."

I lift one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. "It's fine."

We sit in silence after that, watching TV as we wait for Ghost to wake up.

By day four, I have a budding friendship with Johnny. We have inside jokes and a handshake. We've even started mirroring some of each other's mannerisms.

I also know that Ghost doesn't like it.

It's around lunchtime when John and another guy - someone else I don't recognise - show up at the apartment, laden with six packs of beer and bags of snack foods. I let them in with a bewildered laugh. The second John's through the door, he pulls me into his arms for one of his signature bear hugs.

"Oh Tali, how I've missed you." The words are mumbled into my hair as I let out a soft giggle, squealing as he lifts me off of my feet.

"I've missed you too. Now put me down before you break a hip, old man."

By the time he's set me back down, the boys are already making themselves at home in the open plan kitchen. Johnny moves around sorting various snack foods onto plates and into bowls, gliding with the confidence of someone who's lived here for years, not days. His other friend - a man with dark, curly hair tucked for the most part under a baseball cap, and dark, expressive eyes - stands back, leaning against the counter with an open can in one hand, taking sips of beer between speaking. Then there's Ghost, leaning against the opposite counter, eyes never straying far from Johnny.

"How have they been?" John asks, his voice low and quiet as he watches the boys interacting in the kitchen.

I offer him a reassuring smile. "They've been okay. Johnny has a brilliant sense of humour; I like him."

John smiles. "Thought you would."

"What are you two ladies gossiping about?" a voice calls from the kitchen, the words laced with an east London accent. I glance up to see the newcomer looking at me, eyes glittering with interest. He must be the local John was talking about when he first called me about the boys.

"Wouldn't you like to know," I say, wiggling my eyebrows.

Johnny's own eyebrows shoot up into his hairline, his mouth quivering before an extremely loud, abrupt laugh bursts out of it. "Well she got you there, Gaz."

Gaz. The last remaining member of Alex's unit that I had yet to meet.

"Where are my manners?" Gaz walks around from behind the kitchen counter, coming to stand in the living area with me and John. He extends a calloused hand for me to shake, offering me a boyishly charming smile as I do. "Name's Kyle Garrick, but everyone just calls me Gaz. Feel free to call me whatever; I'll probably answer to it. What's your name?"

"Tali."

His grin widens. "Nice to meet you, Tali."

I return his grin. "Likewise."

With that, moving with the same natural easiness as Johnny, Gaz walks back to his spot in the kitchen, picking up his beer and taking another sip. I meet Johnny's eyes, noting the reassuring smile and nod that he flashes in my direction. But that also means that I catch the scowl coming from Ghost.

The whole interaction makes me realise a couple of things.

One: Ghost does not particularly like me. Two: Ghost could give me his real name, he just chooses not to. It seems like he wants nothing more than to remain at this level of impersonal with me for the entire duration of his stay, unlike Johnny who seems dead-set on getting to know me. In the four days that they've been here, I still haven't gotten a clear look at Ghost's face. The whole time, he's been wearing a hood to cover up or - most days - a surgical mask to cover the lower half of his face. Anything to keep me at arm's length.

"Hey, pretty lass, do you want a beer?"

My eyes fall on Johnny and the two cans in his hands. There's a hopeful look on his face that makes me nod yes. With a smooth underarm throw, he tosses me a can and flashes me another broad grin.

"Do you mind if we hang out here for a bit?" John asks softly, just for me to hear. When I look up at him, his expression tells me that if I ask him to leave, they will. No questions asked. "There's a footie game on and Gaz wanted to watch it with the lads. It's a tradition we normally do on base, but I'm sure we could find a pub playing it or something."

"Watch it here." I genuinely want them to. I want to spend time with them; want to see how they all interact. And I've missed hanging out with John while he's been away. There's also a small, selfish part of me that wants to see how they all fit as a team. To see if I can spot the gap in the dynamic where Alex would have slotted in; to see what his life would have been like in those last few weeks. "Maybe I want to watch it too. If that's okay."

"Of course it's okay." John's arm wraps around my shoulders. "Which reminds me. Ghost and Soap might need somewhere to stay for the long haul. At least until Soap is fully healed, that is."

I nod slowly. "And you want them to stay here?"

"Would that be okay with you?"

I glance across to the kitchen, watching Johnny and Gaz playfight under Ghost's watchful eye. Even messing around, they're respectful; keeping a mindful distance from anything fragile or expensive. As much as I hate to say it, I'm growing used to Johnny's constant playful presence in the apartment. Even Ghost's brooding is starting to grow on me.

"I think I like having them here. As long as they're both happy, they can stay as long as they like. I can talk to Winnie about logistics if it comes to it."

John nods, the corners of his mouth ticking upwards. "They both seem happy here, Tali. Ghost seems relaxed; that hardly ever happens."

Really? If this is Ghost relaxed then I'd hate to see him stressed.

"Again, ladies?" Gaz heckles playfully. He folds his arms across his chest, clicking his tongue and shaking his head like a disappointed parent.

At that, John straightens, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "We might be off duty, but I'm still your captain, sergeant. Now - all of you get your arses in here."

The three of them head into the living room, filling the coffee table with cans and the various bowls that they've prepared. One by one, they choose their seats for the next couple of hours. As Gaz tries to drop down into my armchair, Ghost shoots him a pointed look, and he opts to sit on the floor instead, eyes twinkling once again.

Hm.

"Right, now everybody shut y'er mouths. I'm putting the game on."

And, with that, Johnny lines up the football on the sports channel and we all settle in.

a/n: happy new year guys! hope you all enjoy this chapter. I know that it's a bit shorter than the last one, but I'm currently battling with a mild case of writer's block this is also a repost as tumblr decided to not show this the first time around - hope to see you all again very soon, lapetitelapin :)

[viceofdionysus]

Blood Like Wine: Epilogue - Balance (🦇)

Vampire!Alfred Pennyworth x F!Reader

WC: 899 Rating: 18+

After everything you've been through, you and Alfred finally find some balance.

Contains: A party, mentions of alcohol, flirting, and heart melting fluff

A/N: It feels a bit odd to wrap this one up, but I've had so much fun sharing it with you all! A huge shoutout to everyone who has and who will read this!

Divider is from @saradika-graphics

Voices chatter excitedly, filling the Manor's ballroom. Server's circle through the crowd, a variety of hor d'oeuvres on platters. The band plays an upbeat and swinging song. Tasteful black and gold decorations cover the space.

You lean against the bar, glad to take a break, looking over the sea of people. An arm wraps around your waist.

“Well, Mr. Pennyworth, I think you have a smash hit on your hands.”

“Your drink recommendations are the talk of the party.” He kisses the sweet spot behind your ear. You smile and turn in his arms.

“Is Bruce ready for his big announcement?” You wrap your arms around him.

“He says he is. Though he won't still won't tell me what it's about.”

“Bruce Wayne keeping a secret? What a concept!”

He laughs, “I just don't like when he keeps them from me.”

“That's because you're nosey.” You tap his nose gently, following it with a light kiss.

“It's my job to know everything.”

“I suppose it is.”

The drummer plays a quick rhythm, the signal for Bruce. He walks into the middle of the floor, his shoulders back, but a sheepish expression on his face.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and others,” He starts, “I want to thank you all for joining us for the Annual Wayne cocktail fundraiser!” The tension in his shoulders relaxes as he leans into the role he's playing, “Last year, with your generous donations, we were able to open a new children's wing of the Gotham Memorial Hospital.”

He pauses as the room bursts out in applause.

“He's doing well.” You murmur.

“We practiced.”

“I'm pleased to announce that the wing has helped an estimated 600 children this past year and they're looking for ways to reach other children in our communities.” He looks over the crowd, “You know, my parents always taught me one of the best things we can do as people is invest in our communities and our futures. Over the past several years, the Wayne foundation has sought to do exactly that, seeking out opportunities to help our communities that need it the most. This year, we're going to do something a little different.” Murmurs rush through the crowd, “This year, I'm happy to announce that the Wayne Foundation has partnered with the city of Gotham and the Supernatural council for an exciting opportunity. We are going to buy The Castle and refurbish it into a center for the supernatural community.” Behind him, someone pulls a cloth off a building model, revealing what the updated building will look like. You and Alfred share surprised looks, “The Castle once stood as a safe haven for the Supernatural community until it closed its doors, leaving a gap in our city. We are excited about this opportunity to provide the community with a safe place to go for resources, help, and even just connection.”

Bruce pauses. The room takes a moment to absorb what he says and then applause breaks out. You and Alfred join in, still glancing at each other.

“One last thing before I turn things back over to our incredible band. Can I get a round of applause for all the hard work and creativity that went into planning tonight's event? So many people put a lot of love into making this a success!”

Another round of applause, you and Alfred smile at each other.

“Do you want to step outside?” He asks.

“That would be nice.” You smile at him.

He sets a hand on your lower back, guiding you through the crowd. He follows you through the doors that open onto the terrace and over to a railing. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into him.

“Afraid I'll fall?”

“I'd catch you if you did.”

You lean into him, looking up at the clear night sky. The air is crisp as you breathe it in, cooling your overheated skin.

“Moon?” You turn to face Alfred, finding him holding a little box, “I got you something.”

You laugh and pull a small box out of your pocket, “I got you something too.”

Alfred smiles and exchanges boxes with you. He watches as you open yours, smiling at your gasp.

“Ms. Isley made it for me. It has the same protections as your first one.”

You look down at the small bat, the chain looping through its wings, a small jewel dangling below him.

“Oh Alfred! It's perfect!” You turn around, “Put it on!”

He takes the necklace out of the box, looping the cool chain around your neck. The clasp fits together easily and the bat rests against your chest. You press a hand to it as you turn.

“I'll carry it right next to my heart.”

“Moon.” He says softly, devastated by emotions.

“Open yours!”

Alfred chuckles and lifts the lid on the box. Gleaming cufflinks wink up at him.

“They're made out of moonstone and meteorite.”

He immediately picks them up, but you stop him.

“Let me.”

He smiles, dropping them into your open palm. You undo his cufflinks and replace them with your present. He turns his wrist, admiring the way they shine.

“I'll have your light with me always.” he says softly.

You feel yourself go soft. “Alfred.”

“Come here, moon.”

He kisses you sweetly, turning the kiss deeper as the sky explodes into vibrant colors around you.

“May this be the beginning of our forever.”