#i finally got to take a vacation away from here and couldn’t even enjoy it because i got sick

[aggieharkness]

Hello! Baking (or rather cutting out) Christmas cookies was a bit like a cold, tense hell with Christmas music playing in the background.

So I'd like to request reader baking Christmas cookies (or just normal cookies) with Lilia. Put as much fluffy, funny, feel-good feelings as you can in there, please. I'd really appreciate it.

Happy holidays!

The world is perfect when I'm with you

Pairing: Lilia Calderu x reader

Summary: It's Christmas Eve and you and Lilia share a few quiet moments at home baking cookies and simply enjoying the time to be with each other.

Warnings: romance, pure fluff, dancing, baking cookies.

Authors note: Oh my God, I love the idea. You don't know just how happy it made me to read this, like I was bouncing on my bed. I hope you like it and that it brings you happiness and comfort. If there is anything at all that you don't like, tell me and I'll change it, or if you want more, I'm here. Thanks for the request. btw.

This is a Christmas gift for you!! Happy Holidays!

The world is perfect when I'm with you

The house was filled with music. Christmas carol after Christmas carol played through the Bluetooth speaker you had bought a few months ago, echoing against the walls of Lilia’s tiny living area. She wasn’t one for festivities such as Halloween or Easter, but God, she adored Christmas. The first year you had shared the holidays with her it had surprised you just how invested she was, putting up an old beat-up tree, fairy lights everywhere, even around the bedposts, but you never complained. Her big brown doe eyes had shone with such joy and happiness that you just couldn’t bring yourself to burst her bubble in any way. The house had looked beautiful once she had finished, a small nativity scene in a corner of the room, a remnant of her past life in Sicily. This year wasn’t any different, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. The first of December hit the calendar, and she was like Sonic the Hedgehog pulling out boxes of lights and ornaments, leaving the tree to you, a brand new one covered in fake snow that you had gifted her a couple of years ago. She loved knowing that you were helping and making sure the house was just like she wanted it to look, little angels and random glass balls hanging from the branches, golden tinsel wrapped around it along with a string of lights. It looked beautiful next to the TV. For three weeks you helped her set up the house until you were finally able to take your vacation days, leaving your job until the sixth of January.

Morning had come, bursting through the windows in gentle warm rays of sunlight that bathed over Lilia’s form as she slept, those lovely peppery curls shinning under the orange beams, her body cuddled against yours. Every morning since you both had closed up the shop for the holidays had been exactly the same sweet routine; you waking up first to meet the dawn while she slept for a bit longer, basking in the way your hands followed the shape of her soft ringlets, and your tender kisses lulled her away from the land of dreams. It was simply the best way to begin the day. You both had stayed in bed talking about nothing and everything cuddled against each other until the sun was well high up in the sky, the pinks and purple hues that had painted the world above now a clear blue cyan while the world was buried underneath a crisp layer of snow that had fallen through the night. You had not noticed, wrapped around Lilia, lost in her kisses. She got up first, her hair falling from the bun she had had when you had taken her to bed, her ivory gown letting you catch a glimpse of her otherworld body as she made her way to the bathroom, the light hitting her just at the right angle making her nightdress completely see through. She looked bloody fantastic for being over a hundred and fifty years. The rest of the routine followed like clockwork, coffees and scrambled eggs included, making way for the moment you were both in right now.

Lilia’s body swayed from side to side to Michael Bublé, a Christmas classic for her, her voice not only harmonising perfectly, but overtaking and overpowering the music so easily and effortlessly that you had to stop pulling bowls out of cupboards simply to watch her. Over the kitchen counter she was beating three eggs along with melted butter and sugar, ingredients spread everywhere because when she had got up, right before she had left for the bathroom, she had bent over your body, your eyes drifting to her cleavage until her eyes had claimed your attention, telling you that you were making cookies today. Had you been Agatha or maybe even Jen you would have complained telling her that it was boring, but you were you and the prospect of baking with Lilia was like a perfect Christmas gift.

-Lils, how much flour do we need? – your eyes lifted from the big packet of flour that you had just left on the table, her usual red and blue robe flowing when she moved to stand beside you, a yellow apron with the words “Look at these buns!” protecting her clothes.

-280 grams baby, or one full cup. It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

-Everywhere you go. Thanks, hon.  

-Take a look at the five and ten.

-It's glistening once again.

-With candy canes and silver lanes that glow.

It was wonderful to sing with her even if your voice could never compare; she did not care. Anything that she did with you was simply perfect. Her hands left the bowl of wet ingredients on the table, holding onto yours before you could grab the sifter. She pulled you away from the table, moving your arms from side to side rather dumbly, twirling you on the spot before your chest was pressed against hers. The music was forgotten in the background, drowned by both yours and Lilia’s laughter as your bodies bent exaggeratedly from right to left. Christmas suited her, it was as if this holiday had been made for her, the lights that she had placed all around the room blinking on and off within a pattern, the bright colours mixing with the warm light bursting through the windows. Lilia twirled the both of you around the kitchen table until the song ended, “Feliz Navidad” now playing instead. Her lips landed briefly over yours, pecking you sweetly before she put you back to work with the dry ingredients.

-Don’t forget the baking soda. Last time you did, the cookies became a rock-hard mass.

-Hey! How was I supposed to know that the baking soda wasn’t in the baking soda bottle but in the saffron one? You are the one who loves to recycle.

-Why would I want to throw away a perfectly usable jar? Besides it’s not my fault you forget your glasses in the bathroom all the time.

-Oh yeah? – you grabbed the top of her apron and pushed her against you. – Where are yours now babe?

-You little…

-Ah! No cursing, you don’t want the dough to get upset and not rise, do you?

-I don’t know why you listen to Rio, that it’s obviously a myth.

-Do you want to risk it? – she shook her head, her pout transforming into a bright smile before she kissed you once again, humming happily against your lips.

There were still a few deep tones of the black coffee she had had for breakfast on her lips that your tongue picked up and savoured before turning back to your bowl. Sifting the flour so there would be no lumps you followed the powder with your eyes carefully, making sure every single drop was inside the bowl this time. Over a week ago you had been supposed to bake an apple pie for Sharon’s book club but there had been a few minor hiccups, one of them being you sifting the flour all over the table because you had been looking at Lilia while she talked about a client that had come in requesting the lottery number. When she turned around, she saw you covered in the white powder, bursting into unladylike snorts of laughter that had her entire face turning red, needing to sit for a moment to fill her lungs and calm herself down. Through the corner of her eye she watched you fill the bowl and congratulated you on not spilling it, a kiss on your temple, her hands busy slicing a couple of chocolate bars. She was teasing a bit, but every praise was always genuine when they came from her, a bubble of happiness wrapping around your heart. A pinch of salt and the baking soda and the dry ingredients were ready for the rest of the mix, Lilia wiping her hands on a tea towel before beginning to pour the eggs, sugar and melted butter mix. Instead of using a whisk you had grabbed a spatula from the sink, washing it before beginning to gently fold the batter until it was smooth but thick.

-Can you turn the oven on? I’m almost done with the chocolate.

-Can’t we just bake them with, you know… a flick of our wrist?

-I swear, Halloween Town has made so much damage. Being able to do something doesn’t mean we should, and you have never seen me turn chicken thighs back into a chicken, have you?

-No, but can we?

You knelt on the floor removing trays and plastic Tupperwares so they wouldn’t melt, turning knobs until the light came on and the fan began to work. You were thankful for all those squat trainings you did as you lifted the ceramic trays you had removed from inside the oven and placed them over the bed covers noticing that Lilia had not answer the question. When you turned around she was biting into a perfectly backed chocolate chip cookie, an eyebrow raised and a smirk on her lips.

-Why didn’t you tell me we actually could Lilia?!

-Because half of the fun is letting the smell of fresh baked cookies fill the house.

She stretched her hand, the half-eaten cookie waiting for you. You rushed back to her and took one big bite, moaning at the taste of the chocolate and vanilla essence, Lilia popping the rest in her mouth, pecking your lips after a moment. Even though she could clearly bake at the snap of her fingers she still moved to put parchment over a metal tray, grabbing a scoop from a drawer. She had already mixed the chocolate into the batter, the dough cold to the touch when you went to pick up some with your finger. So, she could chill it in a second instead of putting it in the fridge, but she did not want to bake them with her magic? A waste of time in your opinion, but then again, she might be right, as usual. The house did smell delicious for days after baking. Lilia had placed a bottle of olive oil on the table so you could lather your hands in it, the first scoop of batter landing in your palms so you could round them before placing them on the parchment paper, over two inches in between each cookie so they could rise and expand in the over without ending up as one giant monstrous thing. It had happened before. The first batch of eight cookies was done in just a few minutes, but there was still a bit of batter left, not that Lilia hadn’t thought of a solution already, another tray waiting for what was left. Just as you finished rounding the last one the oven begun to beep, and Lilia bent to put the trays inside, setting a timer for around fifteen minutes.

-Now for the sugar cookies. I’ll get the ingredients ready while you clean up the table, okay baby?

-Sure, just let me move this flour bag to the counter first.

Innocently you picked up the heavy bag, waddling slightly towards where Lilia had cleared a spot for it on the counter, feeling it slipping a bit off your hands, your steps faster so it wouldn’t end up on the floor. In slow motion you let it plop on the counter, just in time, your fingers barely holding onto it, but the motion had caused a white cloud of flour to come out of the bag right towards Lilia’s spot. Your hands shot to cover your mouth, eyes wide, when you turned to look at her, fighting the laughter that wanted to erupt out of your mouth. Lilia’s beautiful face with her rosy cheeks, big characteristic nose and plump lips was utterly covered in a thick layer of white. She blinked a few times, flour falling off her eyelashes giving her an even more comical look with her chocolate doe eyes staring at you through the white mask. Some of it had made its way to her hair, mixing perfectly with her curls. She opened her mouth to speak but she coughed instead, a small cloud of flour puffing in front of her right before sneezing, part of the powder falling onto the top of her dress and over her yellow apron. There was silence for a moment, not even YouTube Music was playing as she stared at you, hands on her hips. An instant later “Let it snow! Let it Snow! Let it Snow!” was filling up the room with its jolly tune, your laughter impossible to keep quiet.

You roared loudly, a hand still trying to cover your mouth while the other was holding onto your stomach, eyes moving from her face down to the floor. Lilia was staring dumbfounded at you, an offended look on her face as you laughed. Her hand shot to grab your arm pulling you towards her, eyes watering when you rose up to gaze at her. She stopped your laughter quickly, her hand throwing a handful of flour to your face, making you blink away the flour surprised at her action. Staring at each other there was no sound coming from either of you before Lilia chuckled, you following until you were both laughing, your hand grabbing more flour and throwing it in her direction, Lilia dodging it just in time. When you saw that she was putting her hand in the bag you rushed away from her giggling excitedly, feeling her behind you as you rounded the table, her flour missing you by an inch. She was now actively chasing you all throughout the house, your body sliding through the curtains and into the store. You were both leaving a trail of flour on the floor, but neither of you cared.

-I’ll get you for this!

-I’m sorry! I didn’t… - you could hardly breath from how much you were laughing, screaming in delight whenever she got close enough to grab you but never actually doing it. - I didn’t mean it!

-Come here!

You rushed to the door, pulling the glass gates open and stepping into the empty street. Sure, you were not wearing clothes appropriate for snow, your feet cozy inside your slippers, legs dressed in a pair of black leggings, but you hadn’t thought of that. Moving over two feet away from the house, Lilia following you out into the street, you took one step until you felt her hands grabbing onto your waist, pulling you against her. You yelped gleefully while laughing, feeling her arms snake around you, the perfect crispy snow reaching your mid-calf, the air cold, a contrast against Lilia’s delicious warm body.

-Got you. – she whispered in your ear, her breaths rapid and hot against the skin of your neck. You smiled while resting your head in the crook of her neck, very little flour left on your faces now.

-So you did.

-If it was all a ploy so we could come out and play in the snow you know you could have just told me.

-Hmmm, not a bad idea, but it was an accident.

-I know, baby. I’m not mad, but you are cleaning up when we are done baking.

Your mouth was open in shock, a retort forming in your tongue as you turned your face to look at her, but it never made it out of your mouth, her lips on yours kissing you tenderly, her soft ringlets caressing your cheeks. The chocolate cookie had left a wonderful sweet taste on her lips, or perhaps it was the bite you had had, either way, it seemed to fit her perfectly. You both stood over the snow for a few minutes observing the usual boring street covered in glistening white all over, on the roof tops, over the signposts. It was beautiful as long as you had Lilia behind you pecking your cheek. She turned you around after a while, holding onto your hands, pulling your frame back inside the cozy home. The oven had just begun to beep when you crossed the curtain to the back, Lilia rushing to them so they wouldn’t burn letting go of you. She was beautiful, spots of flour still clinging to her skin, like on her forehead or the tip of her nose, but they didn’t seem to bother her as she placed one tray on the stove and the other on the counter over a plate so it wouldn’t leave a burn mark on the old wood. You could spend every minute of your life watching her do anything.

They smelled absolutely delicious, the aroma spreading through the room to every corner, gently sliding into the shop. Over the bed covers you had left a rack which she picked up and left on the counter, you watching from your spot against the back wall as Lilia worked flawlessly, transferring the cookies along with the parchment paper to let them cool down. There was no room for the hot trays now, but that was no issue. Lilia turned, locking her eyes with you and then winked, lazy tendrils of yellow magic wrapping themselves around the trays and lifting them in the air, floating with gentle swaying motions over your heads. Everything related to Lilia’s magic was always so very mystical, visions, readings, the usual divination magic that she was used to, so it was wonderful to see the more practical, fun side of it, it meant she was relaxed and happy. She moved her hand beckoning you to join her, pulling out a pair of clean bowls after she had left the dirty ones in the sink.

-Why don’t you start with the icing?

-What happened with cleaning up the table?

-Flour on my face happened, doll. But don’t worry, there’s not much on the table now, I’ll just move those cups to the side if I need to.

-You don’t trust me anymore? – you pouted with a fake saddened tone as she took a stick of butter and a few eggs out of the fridge, turning her body towards you, a hand on the counter and the other on her hip, head lulled to the side. She sighed but smiled, your pouting making you look just so adorable.

-You know I do, otherwise I wouldn’t have given you the fun part of the recipe. You get to paint the cookies, baby.

-Yeah, but it’s fun doing things together. I want you to paint with me.

-Who said I wasn’t going to? You just make the icing and leave it on the side while I start on the batter and then we can cut them together. Does my baby like that?

Nodding your head she moved her hands to your cheeks kissing your lips tenderly, a smile on her lips when she parted from you. Happy that you had got, yet again, another kiss you took a small bowl from the cupboard above your head, checking the recipe that was stuck to the exhaust hood above the stove with a magnet before picking up two eggs, separating the yolks from the whites. Lilia kindly took the yolks and put them aside to use them at lunch time while you beat the whites with the whisk a bit. You didn’t need to do it, you just liked to before putting the icing sugar in, which you could not find in any of the cupboards. You pulled doors open, drawers, you even searched the fridge, it wouldn’t have been the first time any of you had accidentally put something in that didn’t belong there, but it was nowhere, and you could have sworn you had bought some not long ago. Lilia saw you moving frantically all over the kitchen and asked loudly what you needed over the music of “Jingle Bells Rocks” that was now playing. Upon hearing what you needed she moved aside to present you with a bright orange bottle.

Of course, she must have picked it and put aside when she had begun to gather ingredients. She was measuring the sugar, your eyes watching how her hands, dressed in rings on multiple fingers, tapped the bag and moved to the beath of the song. With a small cloud of floating icing sugar you mixed it all, a white paste forming in the bowl to which you added a little bit of corn syrup to make it glossier, just a touch that you liked. Now came the fun bit, taking the food colouring and crating the weirdest shades you could come up with. With a spoon you poured some of the mixture into an empty glass, adding a drop of red that turned pink upon mixing it with a teaspoon, so you added a few more, happy with the bright red that you made and setting it aside. Lilia looked at your science experiment from the corner of her eyes, hands adding spoonfuls of flour into the wet ingredients, folding the powder in. You were like a little kid with a bunch of sharpies and crayons painting lines and figures excited to see the final outcome, Lilia’s brown eyes looking at you as you mixed red and blue to create purple, although right now it looked a bit more like a suspicious brown. She let you finish mixing the colours, reminding you to leave part of the icing white, before adding the last few touches of a pinch of salt and baking powder, the dough clumpy in the bowl, as it should be.

 -Are you done with the arts and crafts, babe?

-Yeah, I think. How do you make grey?

-You don’t. I didn’t get any black colouring. Why would you want to add grey to Christmas cookies?

-Well, I don’t have an idea right now, but I like to have a range.

-Come on, Van Gogh, let’s roll the dough.

While you closed the last bottle of colouring Lilia placed the dough on the table, her strong arms and hands kneading and rolling to combine it and let it form a big smooth ball. You were mesmerised by the way her muscles moved up and down even through the lose sleeves of her dressing gown, her chest bouncing gently to the motion, your eyes glued to soft flesh of her neck and collarbones through the low-cut dress she was wearing, her amulet swaying along. It was incident to stare like that, but she was just too captivating, and she knew. She could feel your eyes watching her every move, a shiver running down her spine, but she never stopped kneading, there would plenty of time for her to take you to bed later. She gave it a few more punches before patting the little ball of dough, signalling that she was done.

-Should I get the rolling pin?

-Yeah, this is ready. It’s in the second drawer, next to the bottle opener.

-It’s too early for a glass wine, right?

-Yes, darling. It’s my company so bad that you need to get drunk at 10 am? – she raised an eyebrow while looking at you, a hand on her hip over her apron. Only a couple of feet separated you, but it was too much of a gap for you, snaking your arms around her neck while her hands automatically moved to your waist, her lips ghosting over yours.

-Never. You are far too alluring and beautiful, I would hate to get drunk and forget tomorrow how you looked today, or how your perfume compliments the smell of cookies so well.

A childish giggle escaped her mouth, muffled when she bent to peck your lips. She was clingy today, or amorous, either way you were not complaining. Parting from you she patted your hip, a sign that she needed you to get her the rolling pin, which of course you did. Anything she needed. There was a certain level of excitement building in your chest as Lilia rolled the dough until it was a quarter inch thick, the sheet overtaking half of the kitchen table, the best part coming at last.

-Right, where are the cookie cutters, babe?

-They should be in a box in the cupboard over the sink. Let me check. – pulling a chair from under the table you stepped on it to check in between the toaster and a juicer that you had got her for her birthday, date that she still refused to tell the girls in the coven, Sharon included as she could be a bit of babble when she had a glass or two of wine in her system. You searched but the box was nowhere to be found. – I can’t find them, did you move them, hon?

-No, not that I remember. Have you looked behind the coffee bags?

-Yeah, they’re not there. Where… Ah… I know where they are.

-Where? I’ll get them while you come down.

-Does the car have gas? – she was resting her backside against the edge of the desk as you stepped down, returning the chair underneath the table.

-What? What does the car have to do with anything?

-I lent them to Agatha.

-What? Why?

-I don’t know, I stopped asking her what she needs things for. I’m not getting another story of her and Rio’s sexual exploits during an expo or whatever. She just asked for them, so I lent them to her.

-You mean gave them to her. We are going to have to buy new ones. Well, it’s not too much of a loss, just grab a couple of knifes and we’ll freehand the cookies.

You practically hopped your way to the upper drawer to pick a pair, rushing back to her side and handing her one. You stared at the dough as if calculating, figuring out exactly what you wanted to do and after a moment, you began to create what you were sure was a candy cane, super proud of the shape until you looked at Lilia, who had had the same idea, and noticed how your lines were hardly straight and the curve was more a 90º angle.

-Why does yours look like an actual candy cane?

-Practice. Oh, yours is not that bad, baby. What is it?

-Ha ha. You know very well what it is.

-Yes, sorry, just teasing.

It was now a competition for you, eyes squinted and your teeth biting down on the tip of your tongue as you tried to keep the knife straight through every line, connecting them all and creating a star, or what you thought should be one, because it looked more as if it had just been run over by a car. Lilia laughed when she saw it and in a childish move you planted your index finger right on her Christmas tree, squishing it while sticking your tongue out. She gasped while calling your name.

-Y/N!

-You laughed at my star!

-It doesn’t look like one, baby.

-And now your tree doesn’t look like a tree, so we are even.

-Darling, it doesn’t matter if they are not perfect, we know what they are supposed to be and that’s all that matters. So what if your star needs a bit of therapy? Now my tree needs a chiropractor. Let’s continue, alright?

-Just don’t laugh again.

-I promise, scouts honour.

She pecked your lips and forehead before tuning back to the dough. The next form was supposed to be a snowman, but it looked more like a bunch of amorphous meatballs, a giggle sliding through your lips at the sight. You turned to check Lilia’s attempt at a reindeer which was more along the lines of a corgi with horns. You could not help it, it brought a cackle out of you, her peppery curls bouncing around her face as she wiped her head to look at you.

-I didn’t laugh at yours!

-Yeah, but… what the hell is that Lils?

-It’s a… It was supposed to be a reindeer.

-I’m sorry honey, but it looks nothing like one.

-Well, it’s a new breed. From Canada.

-Shall we name it? – your hand went to her shoulder, your head resting over it as you both watched the figure.

-Agatha, for stealing our cookie cutters.

She laughed at her own joke, your own snorting only adding to the humour of the moment, without a care in the world. Both of you carried on making shapes and forms, some of them better than others, some being additions to the “new breed from Canada”. You had pointed at each other’s creations laughing and praising, giving some of them names until you had the entire coven in cookie form, but you and Lilia’s figures could not be those weird interpretations of snowmens and trees, so you let her carve yourselves as two beautiful gingerbread women. It had started out as Christmas cookies but in the end, when Lilia had begun to move them to the floating trays, there had been more amorphous beings than accurate forms, but neither of you cared one bit, “Fairytale of New York” following “Santa Baby” on your Christmas playlist. Lilia’s head perked up at the sound of the music, pushing the door to the oven with her hip until it closed, setting a timer for ten minutes. She grabbed your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours as she pressed you against her, swaying to the song.

She must have been a singer and a dancer at some point in her life, there was just no way she could be that good and not have had shown her gift to the world at least once. You would ask her one of these days, but as of now you were happy to dance with her in the kitchen, listening to her sweet voice follow the tune. The moment was perfect, down to the song, to the way the sun caught in her hair as she twirled you both around the room, her citrusy perfume filling up your lungs along with the sweetness of the cookies. How could you have ever been blue? How could you have ever thought that happiness was not in for you? Lilia had come into your life and the world was suddenly a beautiful place where nothing could ever go wrong. Staring at her eyes it was as if they were the melted chocolate you had tasted on her lips earlier, warm and loving.

-They've got cars big as bars, they've got rivers of gold.

-But the wind goes right through you, it's no place for the old.

-When you first took my hand on a cold Christmas Eve.

-You promised me Broadway was waiting for me.

-You were handsome

-You were pretty, Queen of New York City

She laughed at the nickname, head lulled back, her feet never stopping, moving from side to side. The living area wasn’t precisely Buckingham Place, but you two made it work, and as Lilia’s moved both your bodies, her dressing gown brushing the foot of the Christmas tree, she truly showed you how much that tiny little room could give. The warm light that had bathed the room suddenly disappeared, the bright colourful lights that she had placed in every corner overtaking and lighting up the room in a dance of colours and shapes. Your eyes drifted to the window seeing the sky covered by big fluffy white clouds, a gentle breeze having picked up outside the house, the first few snowflakes beginning to fall, but Lilia claimed your attention when she pushed your body away form hers while still holding your hands.

-The boys of the NYPD choir were singing Galway Bay and the bells were ringing out for Christmas day.

She pulled you back against her body once again, her arms around your waist, your hands resting on the back of her neck twirling her soft curls in between your fingers. Her forehead was pressed against yours, the movements slow as the song carried onto the last few verses letting the words drip from her lips in hushed tones only for you to hear. The two of you had closed your eyes letting the warmth of each other’s bodies wrap around you, basking in the way you could feel the love seeping from every pore, from every word that escaped her lips. It wasn’t until she sang the last verse, her breath tickling your nose, that she did press her lips to yours, hiding her face into the crook of your neck after a few moments to escape the reality outside those four walls. “Auld Lang Syne” followed, the softer tune perfect for you both to simply sway on the spot, your hands caressing Lilia’s hair and neck, your cheek resting against her ear as she breathed in your perfume and shampoo, humming happily. Neither of you wanted the moment to end, feeling as if being like this, in each other’s arms, was just the perfect way to live Christmas Eve before the craziness of going over to Sharon’s with the rest of the coven happened. You wanted to savour every second you had with Lilia and only Lilia. For once the world could wait, stop moving altogether until you were ready to carry on with life, though you doubted you would ever let the happen.

Right on time the last few notes playing marked start of another song, the oven starting to beep. Lilia did not wish to move, but she had to, extracting herself after a minute to pull the trays out, letting them float around just like she had done before. You helped her transfer the chocolate chip cookies onto a plate, setting them aside so she could let the sugar cookies out of the trays and onto the racks. But you were impatient, she knew, and with a flick of her wrist, your eyes shinning gleefully as you watched a few sparkles of golden magic fly from her fingertips, they were cold enough to be placed on the kitchen table to be decorated.

-Do you have any ideas you want to share, darling?

-Not really, well, maybe. I think we should paint the Coven with their signature colours.

-Alright. Let’s start with Agatha, that way if she looks bad it won’t matter much. She owes me a bunch of cutters.

It was playful banter, she didn’t really hate Agatha, quite the opposite, she took care of the woman as if she were a daughter, looking after her, looking out for her, protecting her from the world as if she were afraid someone could break her. It was one of the main things that had attracted you to her at first, her caring, nurturing nature. She picked up an empty pipping bag and let you fill it up with the purple icing before cutting the tip. The first blob fell right in the middle of the reindeer, and since there wasn’t much she could now she carried on. The shape was horrid, but she assured you that once the details were added it would bring it all together. You weren’t very sure. The eyes looked a bit disproportionate, and the antlers were a bit thick, but all in all Lilia thought it looked good, and you didn’t want to disagree.

-My turn now, let me do Sharon. In green?

-Yeah, we have two green witches, we’ll just make Rio’s eyes brown and call it a day.

You might not have been gifted with the knife, but you sure were better with the pipping bag than Lilia. Your reindeer was more accurate, green but accurate, the small beady eyes perfectly positioned but the antlers… the looked like a bunch of worms. It suited a green witch you supposed. Lilia was quick to praise and tell you that it was beautiful, kissing your temple and watching as you did Rio’s as well, a perfect reindeer in front you down to red nose and everything. You were so excited, bouncing in her arms, her words filled with love and joy as she told you just how pretty it was. Her hands moved on to Jen, the shape of the snowwoman much easier than that of a reindeer in pretty shade of pink, the eyes and buttons brown, along with a blue scarf and orange nose. She put it aside to let the icing harden your hands working on Billy as she did Alice, both snowman that looked pretty decent taking on account that Lilia’s orange pipping bag burst in her hand just as she was finishing Alice’s body, icing all over the table and a couple of candy cane cookies.

-What a mess!

-Baking is messy, Lils. Don’t worry, there’s enough icing left to make more orange.

-But…

-It’s perfectly fine, honey, honestly. Just clean that up and I’ll make more. And those two cookies can be like orange flavoured candy canes. See? Problem solved.

-My baking hero.

Grabbing a glass after she pecked your cheek, you were quick to blend the right shade of orange, putting it inside a new pipping bag and handing it to Lilia so she could finish Alice’s body. It was beautiful to do this together, Lilia’s lines wiggly and the consistency a big lumpy when she tried to do the first few stockings until she gave up and moved on to the stars, easier in her opinion. You tried to write names on the stockings once she had moved them to your side of the table, but they were more like scribbles that no one could understand, still the colour code every member of the coven had settled for kind of helped to identify which was for which. The moment was both cozy and hilarious, pointing at the figures you were both painting, commenting, laughing and scraping to begin again only to end up with the same wiggly lines and mismatched colours. Lilia once in a while added her own touch to one of your cookies, be it a weird bow or a string of tinsel around a tree while you gave hers a more artistic touch by adding sparkles to her candy canes or little dots of colour on her reindeer’s antlers claiming that they were Christmas lights. She had laughed hard at that stating in between laboured breaths that it looked as if the poor thing had crashed a farmers’ market, and to be honest it kind of did, laughing along with her, your body pressed against her arm as you both shook and cackled. But neither of you cared, they were yours and in their horrid looks they looked perfect to you. The only thing left was to paint were you and Lilia’s gingerbread women, something that you were left in charge of as Lilia didn’t want to risk it. The pressure was real as you did Lilia’s face, her curls a mix of white and brown icing before you moved onto the clothes giving her a yellow jacket, white blouse and blue pants, the outfit you had met her in when she had been thrown out of the Witches Road after fishing her task. She had been covered in mud back then, but you weren’t one to add brown and destroy her beautiful cookie. You put as much effort in your own, dressing yourself in a pair of black trousers and a red blouse, your hair in a bun above your head.

-They look beautiful babe. Mirror images of reality.

-It’s easy when you have the perfect model in front of you. – she smiled at the compliment, a gentle pink hue dressing her cheeks. She blushed so tenderly and so beautifully.

-Flattery will get you everywhere with me, darling.

-I certainly hope so.

-As much as I love the idea of letting you have your way with me, why don’t we let these cookies settle for a bit and go out?

-Everything’s closed.

-I didn’t say that we had to go somewhere in specific. You like snow, don’t you?

-Of course!

-Then get your winter boots on and let’s make a real snowman!

-Really?!

You jumped on the spot nearly knocking over the table, Lilia’s hands shooting to grab it, your lips on her cheek before rushing to the other side of the room. You apologised while running to your closet, grabbing a jumper, a pair of thicker trousers along with some Harry Potter socks and rushing to the bathroom, your voice reaching her ears as you sang loudly, your voice filled with joy, knocking over things that were on the sink.

-Do you want to build a snowman?!

-Oh, God, not “Frozen” again.

[alolan-weavile]

oooooh i am deeply unhappy actually

[sinning-23]

Hot Tatted Uncle Pt.2 (Uncle!SukunaAu x Teacher!Reader)

Thanks so much for the love and support on pt.1 you guys are the besttt lol, honestly might be a 3 parter we'll see! ANyway, enjoy :0

Also pleaseee excuse any spelling errors yall

Link to Pt.1

PART THREE HERE!!!

_______________________________________

You stared at the text message, throat tight with excitement but dread. It had been a few months since the last incident with Yuji and his Uncle. The roguish male often picked up the young boy, tagging along with Yuji’s father. You’d usually just give Jin a rundown of his son’s day, ever so often catching Sukuna’s gaze as he leaned against the door frame. And every time it happened, you’d choke, clearing your throat and focusing your attention on Yuji and his father.

It didn’t help that he was always texting you, asking his his nephew was behaving. Even though it was cordial and polite, you still felt giddy getting texts from him.

This comes to the next point, why you’re sitting here practically gawking over the most recent message request from Yuji’s father.

-YOU HAVE A NEW MESSAGE:

Hello Miss Y/n! Do you babysit? I know Yuji loves having you as a teacher and I was wondering if you’d be interested in babysitting for him along with his Uncle while me and my wife go on vacation. Of course, you will be paid as well.

-Jin Itadori @ 6:28pm-

You wait to open it, pacing for a moment, thinking, first of all if you were available for the weekend and second, why couldn’t his uncle handle it?!

Well, given the man’s track record maybe an experienced hand in childcare could be useful. With a heavy sigh, you respond and you'd have to quickly come to terms with the fact that you would be essentially babysitting over 2 days with your students' hot uncle.

-----------

It's Friday now, and arrangements for you to simply drive Yuji back home and meet up there with his uncle were already in place. You were trusted with a spare house key, and their precious baby boy, who so seemed to be happier than a fly on shit that you would be spending even MORE time with him.

You gather your things and a few activities to pass the time, loading them into your car. Yuji insists on helping, carrying a small container of building blocks with his chubby hands. And god damn does he not stop talking while he does. It's adorable really, whatever comes off the top of the boy's head simply flying free.

"My-My uh uncle, he doesn’t have no girlfriend." He speaks, the statement making you choke.

"Ahaha is that so? He tells you to say that?" You joke, setting the pink-haired toddler in his car seat, and buckling him in with ease.

"MHM! My uh-" He coughs, quickly covering it with his elbow as you give a small 'good job' seeing as he's learning to keep his germs away from everyone, including you.

"My Uncle says uh he says that you got pretty eyes." He explains, your heart fluttering.

You sit in the driver seat finally, the boy still rambling on and on about what his uncle thinks about you. Though all you can do is respond with a simple, "Oh that's very kind, or a awee", Yuji is nonstop.

It’s quiet for a moment and as you’re pulling into the driveway when he says it, clear as day.

"Uncle says your ass is fat too."

You slam the brakes, the car jerking a bit when you do. What. The. FUCK-

The culprit is already awaiting you, arms folded over his chest as they flex. He’s got a white tank top on and a pair of black basketball shorts paired with slides and ankle socks.

Yuji squirms, growing ever more excited as Sukuna takes him out of the car seat and lightly jabs his knuckles to the boy's sides with a 'Rahhhh', as if he were some kind of tickle monster. Yuji of course laughs and if ALMOST makes you forget about what he'd just said a moment ago.

"Wanna help Miss Y/n put this inside?" Sukuna asks the small boy, handing him the block container from before. Yuji is quick to nod and scurry to the front door.

"I can bring the rest of this, Jin gave you the housekey right?" He asks, leaning against the frame of the car, your neck snapping towards him as you swallow thickly. Fuck you can see even more of the tats now in that shirt.

"U-Uhm yes, yes. I'll go get the door. I can get some of this too I-" You speak, fumbling to find the key. He only puts his hand up and shakes his head, the silver chain around his swishing a bit.

"Nah I gotchu. Yuji knows how to turn the TV on so he can watch his lil show for a bit.”

Sure enough, the minute you unlock the door, Yuji crawls atop the couch, using the remote to try his best to navigate. It takes a while, and he mispresses a few buttons but after about 5 minutes he manages to play something entertaining for him.

Sukuna had finished bringing your bags in as well as the one with activities in it, setting it on the stairs. He rolls his shoulder, pointing at Yuji who was immersed in the show.

"See." Sukuna hums, leaning against the countertop next to you, also skimming over the note. His body heat is practically radiating off of him, just standing by him is warming you up.

You nod in response, looking over the brief note Jin left for you both and according to what it said, your next step was to head up some leftovers for Yuji and then run him a bath.

"There’s two bathrooms so I can get the boy.” He offers, resting his hand behind his neck as you give a nervous laugh. FUCK this nervousness was most likely only on you. There’s no way he could be just as filled with anticipation as you were?!

You take the offer, giving a small thank you before fishing the shower and taking one considering you did just get off of work. Packed away in your bag was a set of comfortable clothes and a book with you figured would help pass the time once Yuji went to sleep.

You could hear footsteps and Yuji fussing back and forth with his Uncle.

“Hush man you’re making me look bad.” Sukuna groans, throwing the toddler over his shoulder as he giggles but continues to thrash, pounding tiny fists against the older male's back.

“No! NO BATH! I don’t wanna!” Yuji whines, his Uncle only growling in response.

“I’ll give you candy if you stop.”

And just like that it was quiet.

-8:30pm-

The night had gone smoother than you thought, you and Sukuna both interacting with Yuji as it’s beginning to be time to wind down. His eyes were beginning to get heavy and before you knew it he was slumped against the couch, clutching an unfinished sucker in one hand and a white puppy plush in the other. You smile, scooping him up and patting him when he stirs.

“Be right back, let me tuck him in.” You whisper, seeing Sukuna look up from his phone and nod, one arm slung over the sofa while he practically manspreads

-9:00pm-

Turns out, Yuji took a bit longer to fall asleep when he realized he was being put down and so you had to sit and pat him for an extra 30 minutes. And once you returned to the living room, there was Sukuna, still scrolling. Well, that was until you came in.

“Sorry, he wouldn’t go back to sleep.” You explain, sitting at the farthest end from him, picking up your book in the silence.

“So you like working up there? At the school?” He asks, putting his phone down to hold the conversation with you.

It takes you by surprise for a second but you are quickly to respond.

“Well yeah, I love the kids and I love working there and teaching them things. Yuji is a sweetheart and it’s definitely kids like him that make it all worth it.” You explain, a smile making its way to your lips.

“You got kids?” He asks, eyes on your frame as you laugh a bit in response

“Nah, don’t really plan on it right now either. Kids are difficult.” You answer, now facing him a bit more, body relaxed.

What was there to be so scared of?! He’s a chill guy who just so happened to be hot as fuck asking you about your career and life?!

“How about you? Kids? Working?” You flip, seeing him shift a bit uncomfortably.

“Hell nah. I see how Jin deals with Yuji and I’m not really cut you to be a dad. And for work well, I’m a priest.” He states, smirking at the surprised look on your face.

“R-Really??” You question definitely surprised.

“Nah I’m just fucking with you.” He laughs and you do the same, trying to keep your volume down since Yuji did just fall asleep.

-11:08pm-

It was crazy to believe you’d spent about two hours just talking back and forth, with him about his past, his brother, and his nephew. You about your own life and current living situations. Somehow the conversation took…a turn.

“Y’know, it’s funny because Yuji keeps telling me about these things you say and I think it’s so funny. Like he’s tone little wingman.” You laugh, seeing him grin right back at you.

“Yeah like what?” He asks, more teasing than anything.

“Well he said that you said I have pretty eyes and on the way here he goes, ‘uncle says your ass is fat’” you explain with a laugh that he doesn't return.

Instead you see his lip tuck between his teeth after he licks them.

“I did say that.”

Suddenly the room is hot, and you’re very aware of how sharp his canaines look in that stupid grin. How his hand is grinning the back of the couch cushion. And for some goddamn reason you just had to look down, that fucking print so visible against his inner thigh.

Your breath falters, eyes wide and you swallow back any doubt. So he had said all that stuff and it want just Yuji repeating something or just talking.

“I-Well I…Thank you? I-I mean I’d be lying if I said hadn’t looked at you too.” You admit, his body shifting to face you more, almost caging you in on the couch.

“I figured. Every time I come to pick up you can’t seems to form a sentence correctly .” He notes.

“Suku-“

“Ryo.” He corrects. Lifting the strap of your nightshirt over your shoulder, playing with the fabric for a moment.

“Ryo.” You test, hearing his exhale heavily.

“Let’s stop pretending there’s nothing happing and has been happening here. No rule against fooling around with me is there?” Sukuna tests, his hand trailing up to rest no on your neck, his thumb pulling your lower lip down.

“No.”

And with that your make the hood move to connect your lips, his arms immediately going to lift you up ans set you against his lap.

Damn does that bulge feel to much better resting between your legs than just looking at it.

___________________________________

Authors note: OKAY YEHA ITs gonna be a 3 parter with smut in the next one I cant resist lol yall know smut is my specialty! LMK if you wanna be added to the taglist shawty!

Taglist: @manikosii @ya-boi-v @tergyri @ninacutebee16 @minaloq @kriegsumire-blog @samisfunky @peachhiz @teupaidecalcinhasblog @khaotic-luca @gurutoru @molita111 @snail-squasher @rowrowrowyourboat13

[pitchsidestories]

lunch II Ona Batlle x Lucy Bronze x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1181

a/n: hi, it's based off this request here. We're not completely happy with it, but hope you'll still enjoy it. <3

warnings: smut ahead, mdni, 18 + content

In front of her eyes, laid a stunning coastal landscape, but the beauty of it couldn’t satisfy the hunger Ona felt inside.  

“I’m so hungry.”, the defender mumbled.  She was certain that the sound of the crushing waves against the shore made it impossible to hear what the brunette just said. But the young woman was wrong of it.

Her brother who came to a halt next to her, raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“You haven’t even touched your food.”, he reminded her.

“Not like that.”, Ona replied smirking.

“Oh my god, Oni!”, the older man spat his coffee out, he wasn’t expecting such a reply from his little sister.

Before she had to explain herself in front of him, the defender thankfully received a phone call from her girlfriends.”

“Sorry, I need to take it.”, Ona bit her lip in an apologetic manner.

“Go ahead.”, her brother waved it off.

“Thanks.”, the football player got down to the beach, looking for a stone to sit on, when she chose to videocall her lovers back.

The young woman was excited to watch the sunset, the sun made her skin appear golden, her heart sank from longing once she saw Lucy and you on the screen of her phone. The sight of you both almost pained her physical.

 “Finally.”, you sighed relieved while you looked at your girlfriend who wasn’t in the squad for the last away game of the season, your hair was still wet from the shower.

“Hey, girls.”, Ona greeted you both with a warm smile on her lips.

“Hi, you already look like vacation herself.”, Lucy noticed the tanned skin of the defender and the many adorable freckles around her nose.

For a moment the Catalan player turned around so you got to see the sea in its full glory.

“Oh my god, we’re jealous, that view behind you looks stunning.”, you replied.

“I can’t wait until you come and join me.”, Ona answered, her voice full of yearning.

“We can’t wait either, pretty girl.”, the older defender assured the younger one.

“Who are you calling pretty girl here, huh?”, she teased her.

“Both.”, Lucy said in an honest tone.

“Just hurry up and come here, I’m starving.”, the Spanish woman’s eyes darkened with want and desire.

It didn’t get unnoticed by you.

“We’ll be there as quick as possible we can’t let you starve.”, you promised her.

“Good.”, Ona nodded, visibly satisfied with that answer.

“See you soon, love.”, the older defender muttered her goodbye.

“I can’t wait.”, the Spanish woman admitted passionately.

“We’ll arrive at lunch time.”, you added who couldn’t wait that much longer either.

The following day Ona was waiting in the hotel lobby. It was Lucy who reached her first and gave her an heartfelt kiss: ”Hi, Ona.”  

“Hi, my loves.”, she chirmed, giving each of you a kiss on the mouth.

“You look great.”, you complimented her.

“So do you.”, the young defender winked at the two of you, eager to guide you to somewhere you all could be alone without any other people watching.

“What’s for lunch?”, the older English woman asked curiously.

“Just you wait.”, Ona grinned mysteriously while leading Lucy and you to the room you’d share in the upcoming days. You could already taste the anticipation. Just for the food or for something else? Likely it was both.

When you arrived, you turned your head around in confusion:” I don’t see any food here?”

Wordlessly, Ona opened the door out to the balcony. There was a hot tub peacefully bubbling just for the three of you.

Glasses of wine stood on a table right beside it, small plates with olives and nuts right next to them. You could not help but notice that there were small bouquets of flowers on the balcony as well.

“Maybe I prepared a different kind of lunch.“, Ona smiled innocently.

Lucy immediately understood the hint. She licked her lips impatiently: “I like that.“

“Oh, me too.“, you smirked.

“You can leave your travel clothes on the chair.“, Ona suggested, pointing at an empty chair inside the hotel room.

“Someone’s really impatient.“, Lucy laughed while pulling her shirt over her head anyway.

You bit back a comment about how was being impatient now.

“In my defense, I had to wait a long time for you two.“, Ona shrugged with nonchalance.

You laughed as you slipped into your bikini: “Don’t worry, we won’t let you wait any longer.“

“Finally…“, Ona smirked once you had all changed and were ready to finally slip into the pool.

You enjoyed the warm water as it touched your skin.

Ona handed you and Lucy the glasses of white wine.

“Cheers.“, she said, holding out her glass so you could all clink your glasses together.

You took a sip of your wine, it was sweet and delicious. Ona had created the perfect relaxing experience for the end of your season.

You were about to compliment her on that when you suddenly felt a hand grip the inside of your thigh.

Lucy smirked at you, tightening her grip and you immediately knew that it would leave a bruise.

You sucked in a breath as Lucys hand started wandering, sneaking into your bikini bottoms.

Simultaneously, Ona untied your top, pressing hungry kisses down your neck and your breasts.

You felt yourself lose focus. You even had to put your wine glass down, too scared that you would drop it while your girlfriends spoiled you.

Maybe they were impatient to get this started but you were impatient to finish this. You thrusted your hips towards Lucy, signalling her to move faster and deeper.

And then finally, relief floated your body. You moaned as quietly as possibly, suddenly remembering that you were still at a hotel.

Ona kissed you excitedly. You knew that watching you come turned her on, you could tell from the way she was shifting impatiently.

You were eager to share this feeling of ecstasy with her, so you slipped onto her lap and ran your hands along her tanned abs. Her freckles were even more pronounce from the time she had spend in the sun. You felt almost hypnotized by the beauty of them.

But before you could do more than press a few kisses along her jawline, Lucy pulled you both towards her: “Let’s take this somewhere more comfortable.“

You had to agree. The pool was nice and warm but not spacious enough for what you three were planning to do.

Ona and you followed her out of the pool and straight into the hotel room where you all stripped out of your wet swim wear.

As you climbed onto the bed, you realized that Ona had also prepared this. There were scented candles, massage oils and various toys on the bedside table. You smiled, Ona had really been craving to see you.

You could not wait to repay both of your girlfriends. And you wanted to taste them both.

Even if that meant lunch would turn into dinner. You would take your sweet time to satisfy this hunger.

[orshii]

Guilty Pleasure

✟ Author: orshii

✟ Pairing: Choi San x female reader

✟ Word count: 4,6 k

✟ Warnings: cursing, suggestive

✟ Summary: You go back to your hometown for the summer vacation, not expecting the small town's priest to be a total eye candy. But he seems to be hiding dark secrets underneath his holy façade.

Will you find out the truth?

✟ A/N: *coughs in embarrassment* Uh so...I think I really went insane if I wrote this, there's no way back anymore haha. I really do feel guilty, but then I'm not, cause you'll see. *wink* To be honest I don't know what is this, I just got inspired in the church bruh-- I can't with myself, I'mma just go dig myself haha let's go. Anyways, enjoy I guess. Actually part 2 is out

My day started off boring, as usual. It was a holiday, so I went back home to the town I grew up in to visit my parents and relatives. I really needed a little break from work and from the adult life, which came out of the blue. I didn't really have time to ponder in my life choices as I finished University. I moved away to a big city to start working as an English teacher. It was very new for me, and very tiring, so, I deserved a little break as the summer vacation finally came and I could come home to rest a little before returning to my chaotic, big city life.

We were sitting in church with my parents and my brother, Wooyoung, as it was Sunday. My parents were mostly religious, and so, I had no other choice but to tag along with them. I can’t say I'm not religious myself, it’s just that I tend to give in a lot of times to the vicious temptations, to the guilty pleasure that consumes me like venom. My brain gets consumed by vices, and it takes a lot of time to find the cure to treat myself with. I learned to believe in myself, instead of God, after I had too many disappointments in life. I prayed for help, but it never came my way. So, I have decided that I'm better off on my own, believing in my own strength and whatever hardships life throws at me I will be able to overcome on my own, instead of believing in a God and waiting for guidance and to be saved.

People started filling inside the church as silence settled upon the hall, the priest coming out to stand in front of the altar. It was the moment I suddenly forgot how to breathe. My mouth fell open as slowly I leaned towards Wooyoung.

"Okay, since when did our old and dusty priest become a young and handsome one?" I whispered to my brother, surprised. The last thing I could remember, as I came here ages ago, was our priest looking like a cute grandpa. This priest on the other hand, was the complete opposite of the lovely old man.

He was tall with his body hidden underneath his black long vestment, but even that couldn't hide his broad shoulders, which could be compared to mountains. Wait a minute…since when were priests buff?

Am I in another universe, suddenly? What am I seeing? Why is he so handsome with his black framed glass?

His black hair was whipped back carefully, little strands falling to his forehead. And his face?! Oh my God, literally, I have never seen more beautiful features likes his before. His jawline was as sharp as a knife, his cat-like eyes watching the people whom came here to hear his wise words, that came from his pretty, almost cherry red, lips. I was very enraptured by this man and I felt very guilty for checking him out for thousands of reasons; one, I was sitting in church and these thoughts were very inappropriate; second…he was a freaking priest, which implied that he was the most innocent human being on earth, he can't even look at girls, let alone do even as much as touch them. My eyes fell on his hands, which were holding the Bible, his palm spreading out underneath it with the veins on his hands showing. I couldn’t control my thoughts as I imagined his long fingers tracing down my neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Wooyoung chuckled quietly, "He’s a newbie. Just got here a month ago, but everyone is all over him already." My brother's voice brought me back to reality as I shook my head to clear my mind of the embarrassing thoughts.

"My dearest brothers and sisters…" The priest started speaking, his low voice sending shivers through my body. The white rosary around his neck was on full display.

From then on, all I could see were his beautiful face and lips, which moved with each smoothly spoken word. I couldn't take my eyes off him; he was like a magnet and I was the iron being attracted to it. It was silent around me; all I could hear was my own quick heartbeat. Just until he started preaching. Suddenly, his soft voice reached my ears and everything just made sense.

"God is here to help you, even in times when you turn your back on him. He watches you still; he protects you still. But he can't protect you from everything. Bad things need to happen in your life so you learn from them, squeezing every lesson out of it so that you can stand up again with your head held high. People make mistakes, and that is what makes us human. Just imagine if God protected you from all bad things, not letting you make any mistake. You’d think that your life was perfect…" He paused so the people would consume what he’s said as he looked around, watching the people in front of him, who were looking up at him like he was God himself. As he was looking around, his eyes suddenly locked onto mine and watched me sharply. I couldn't breathe, "…but the reality is, no one can be perfect, because nothing is perfect. If everything were, life would be boring…we learn from the mistakes we make, because sometimes there's no one behind our back, just ourselves, to keep us going. This is the purpose of God. He gives you lectures in these alone times, so that you can learn how to be your own best friend, so you can love yourself before you love someone else. This is the reason we shall never turn our back to God, he gives us hope and brings us the light. Amen." His eyes were on mine all the while he spoke, and I was stunned. My heart raced like hell; those words felt like they were aimed right at my heart. It reminded me of my old self, who never loved herself, not even for a short period.

I was still mulling over the priest’s speech in my mind as we stood outside the church, when suddenly I saw him standing in front of my family, still holding the Holy Bible. He was smiling at my mother as if they knew each for ages, his dimples showing on both of his cheeks, his eyes turning into crescents. I seriously needed to get my shit together.

"Is she your daughter, who moved away, Mrs. Jung?" He looked at me curiously.

"Yes, she is. Come here." My mother motioned for me to get closer as if I was still twelve years old.

The priest came closer to shake my hand, "I don’t think we’ve met before; my name is Choi San. I'm the new priest." He said with a soft tone as his face beamed with nothing but kindness.

I shook his hand, "Nice to meet you, I'm Jung Y/N." I slightly smiled at him, feeling a little embarrassed due to the thoughts that went through my mind during his service.

We were staring at each other; his hands still haven’t released mine as if the both of us were stunned into sculptures. My mother's voice pulled us back to reality, and San nervously coughed into his palm. What was that?

"My daughter teaches English to little kids in the nearby big town, she just graduated a year ago." My mother said proudly, her palm patting my back with a smile.

"Oh, that is a very great job. It needs a lot of patience, I assume." He seemed genuinely interested.

"Ah, yes, it's a miracle when the kids sit in one place. It's demanding and tiring, but I like it." I smiled at him, trying to seem mature.

"Hang in there, you’ve got this. I can imagine you as a teacher, it fits you well, and I'm sure you are good at it." I didn’t know if I was simply imagining it, but his smile dissapeared for a second as he was glared at me with sharp eyes. I swear to God, he looked like an animal full of desire. And for priests, desire was the last thing they were allowed to feel.

Days later I found myself sitting in a pub, next to San. I can't believe I'm saying this, but the night lead us somehow here, sitting at the bar and talking about anything and everything.  

The night started off with me going out with my childhood friends to drink something, because we have missed seeing each other. We went to a pub called Silver. The bar could be linked back to our childhood as a playground lay in its place instead back then, when we were mere kids. How fun life was, a place where we used to play as kids now was a place where we got drunk until we blacked out. At least my friends managed to do that, I was still hanging on. My friends had drunkenly rested their heads on the table where we initially sat at.

So, I had texted their husbands to ‘come collect their women’. They had come after them as all of my childhood friends had someone, except me. One of my friend’s told me that they were going to take me home. The night was wild, I could barely see, but somehow as I was looking around the bar, my jaw fell open as I saw someone. That someone being Choi San, the priest himself. He was sitting on a barstool, his back facing me. He was wearing a black turtleneck, broad shoulders on full display, which curved into a tiny waist. I was shocked over the fact that he was hiding a body like that under the black vestments. So, I told my friend that I would be staying for a little longer.

I had stumbled next to him as he sat by the bar, "Since when do priests drink alone in a pub?" I asked frowning, the words coming out of my mouth a bit slow. Giving him a closer look, the black turtleneck was tight against his thick neck, a silver necklace with a big cross reached between the middle of his pectorals, which were big. The black turtleneck he wore was tucked inside his elegant black pants. He looked like a God, but not a good one.

He looked at me a little surprised, his lips curving into a smile when he saw it was me,

"Is it set in stone that priests can't drink alone in a pub now?" One glass of whiskey was casually sitting between his fingers.

I frowned at that, feeling a little dizzy, "I mean…I guess not?"

He chuckled watching my face as I pouted at the realization, "You are cute." His smile never dissapeared.

I frowned again, analyzing his face, "Can priests say such things as well?" It was just weird; I spoke without thinking first.

San started to laugh at that loudly, his laugh was so soft it melted my heart. As he laughed, he raised his open palm up to his mouth, a golden ring decorating his index finger, his eyes formed into crescents as he looked like a cute cat, "So, do you think priests can't say anything at all? That they can't even look at cute girls like yourself?" He stopped laughing and leaned a little closer to my face, his voice low with bass.

My cheeks heat up from his closeness. What was he doing again? The man sitting in front of me was the world's biggest question mark, he acted very suspiciously. I leaned backwards, away from him as he looked at me with his sharp eyes, eyeing me up and down.

"Are you really a priest?" I folded my arms over my chest, looking at him suspiciously.

"Of course, I am." He smiled at me again with that adorable smile, which wasn't on his face mere seconds ago.

"You don’t act like it." I said leaning towards the counter to ask for some water from the barista.

"You didn't like my service on Sunday?" He asked, analyzing my face.

"I did, you said some wise words, I must admit." I said as I opened the water bottle to drink. As I drank, I felt his gaze fell on my neck, watching me as I gulped the water down. Chills ran through my body.

"C'mon, I'll take you home." He said, standing up.

"You were sipping whiskey minutes ago, are you crazy?" I said while looking up at him, as he stood next to me.

"Priests can drive while drinking, so come on, you are a bit drunk. I have to take care of the locals, as a priest." He said with a smile, his voice soft as a light breeze while he offered his hand for me to take.

I just looked at it, and after a few seconds of pondering, took it. He grabbed my hand firmly, and lead me out of the pub.

The summer night was a little cold, as clouds hid the stars above us, and the breeze sent shivers down my body.

"Are you cold?" San stopped, putting his hand on my back to caress it.

Okay, this was starting to get very weird. I just wanted to go home.

"I'm okay, just want to go home." I replied, trying to distance myself from him.

He silently led the way towards his car, which was an old black Dodge with some silver framing on the windows. Okay, he was a rich priest then, I guess.

The way towards my home was silent and a little uncomfortable. I just wanted to get away from this weird situation, away from him, because the longer I was with him, the stronger I wanted to give into the biggest sin trap. That being the realization that I started feeling attracted to a fucking priest.

When he stopped the car, I was ready to get out, but when I reached for the handle, it did not open. I looked at San frowning.

"Oh, sorry, it needs more pressure to open, this thing is as old as my grandpa." He slowly leaned towards me, reaching his hand out towards the handle. His face was close to my own, there wasn't even an inch between us. He cracked the door open, but his face remained close, and I was so stunned I couldn't move my limbs to get away from him. My heart was racing, I was terrified he might hear it. Then all I could see was him leaning closer, towards my cheeks, and he pecked it softly, like a feather.

"Good night, darling." He whispered into my ear. I could feel his hot breath against my cheek, which melted into my skin, not even letting my body process it. He leaned back in his seat and pretended like nothing had happened. I swear to God, I believed I imagined the whole scene.

When I came to my senses, I quickly scrambled out of the car and speed-walked towards my house, leaving him there without a word.

I might be going insane, but I just couldn't process what happened. This man was a whole mystery, there was no way a priest would act like this, at least not a real one.

My suspicions started getting valid as on some days, when I was walking home from the summer school I was teaching at, I accidentally saw our precious priest in casual clothes, which was opposite of what a priest would wear. For example, I saw him one time in ripped jeans and leather jacket, was it what priests wore these days? He was always with some guys as they seemed to be doing some business. The first time I saw him, I wasn't sure if it was really San, but when I spotted him the second time as well, I was sure it was him. And I couldn't believe he fooled a whole fucking town with his sweet and innocent act of a priest, one everyone adored. But the truth was that he was a fucking menace, lying left and right, pretending to be someone he wasn’t. I didn't know what was going on, but I wanted to find out. There was no way I was going to let him continue fool the whole town. I wanted to get some evidence so that he would be kicked out and punished, so that he wouldn’t get any more innocent people into trouble.

So, I started following him around. I saw him on days when he completed his priest duties, visiting families, going to church, holding services. He did his job well, his acting was very convincing, everyone believed it. But during the night? He disguised himself very well, so that I wouldn’t really understand what was happening, but I knew he was meeting with some sort of gang on some nights, giving money over to them for something in exchange.

One evening, as I was following San through an alley, he had reached the end of it. He had just turned left, so I followed after him. But when I turned left as well, I couldn’t see him. I looked around, frowning as I wondered where he could have gone so fast, when suddenly, all I could feel was being pushed against the cold brick wall, fingers crawling around my neck, holding me still. I opened my eyes, which I had closed from the sudden impact. I came face to face with San's furious expression as he looked down at me. His hair fell into his eyes and they looked deadly, sharp.

"Had a good time following me, darling?" His voice was low, like a furious thunder. When he tilted his head, he looked like a psycho. His leather jacket had tightened around his biceps as he squeezed my throat. The same cross was still around his neck, just like at the pub.

"Who the fuck are you?!" I looked up at him, words hardly coming out of my mouth as his hand was still around my throat.

"Stop sticking your nose into everything, and just go home!" He raised his voice a little and loosened his hand just barely around my neck.

I took that as an opportunity, and grabbed his hand, just to tear it off my neck, "What the fuck San? Are you insane? Stop fucking fooling everyone, and get the fuck out of here!" I shouted at him; I was shacking from anger that boiled inside me.

"You have no idea what is going on, so please, just go home!" He started calming down a little as he looked behind his back from time to time. He was acting even more suspicious.

"Then tell me what this is. Cause I'm so fucking conf—" I was interrupted by an ear cracking breaking sound, followed by a loud engine.

"Fuck, they are here." San quickly grabbed my wrist and pulled me along, running out of the alley to his black Dodge, that was parked on the sidewalk, waiting for us patiently.

"What the fuck is happening?" I said as he opened the passenger seat's door, and pushed me down into the seat.

"Just sit in the car, Y/N, there's no time for questions. We have to get away from here." He closed the door with a loud thump and ran towards the other side of the car, just to sit behind the wheel and ignite the engine to life.

My heart thumped like crazy, I didn't understand what was happening. All I could see was San driving like a maniac, checking the side mirrors all the time as I saw a big black Jeep following after us madly. San geared up and pushed the gas pedal to the hilt, we were almost flying. The engine threatened to jump out of the bumper from the sudden speed. We were on the highway, a lot of cars around us, but San very quickly dodged all of them. We sped past them like lightning, just for San to suddenly swerve right and get us onto a lane leading away from the highway, then he swerved right again, then left. I lost the direction we were going in, all I could see was the black Jeep that chased us now having disappeared into the cold, and scary, night. San hadn’t stopped yet, he was driving us far away from our little town. I was terrified to speak up, I just knew this was going to be the end of me. All because I'm stupid and I can't sit on my ass and mind my own business. All because I just had to follow a fucking priest, who wasn't even a priest.

After having driven for half an hour in deafening silence, we finally stopped in front of a big mansion. I looked up at it through the windshield. So, this was going to be the location of my murder? I guess it would be fine, right? At least it's a nicer place to be killed at.

I couldn't look into San's eyes, but I felt him staring at me. My body was still a little shaky from the sudden adrenaline, I tried to calm down myself and accept my ridiculous fate.  

"Hey, Y/N?" San spoke up after minutes of being in the silent and dark car. I guess he was waiting for me to calm down, and for himself as well.

I still couldn't look into his eyes as tears flooded in my eyes, the adrenaline was gone and its demise left nothing behind but fear. I don’t know if I was ever this scared in my whole life before.

I felt San's hand touching mine, very carefully. He might’ve realized that I was terrified, so he didn’t want to scare me anymore, "Hey, look at me." His voice was sweet again, like candies.

I breathed in and out, closing my eyes, to somehow fight against my fear, and then slowly turned towards him. As I looked at him and he saw my teary eyes and terrified expression, his features softened into a worried expression.

"Fuck, Y/N, I won't hurt you! I'm so sorry, darling." He cupped my cheeks, tears appearing in his eyes as well. Upon seeing his worried expression, I somehow felt kind of relieved.

"Aren't you going to kill me?" I asked in a whisper looking, down at my hands in fear.

"Look at me, Y/N!" His fingers curled around my chin to lift my head up. I somehow managed to look into his eyes again, and the softness I saw in them made me relax a bit more, "Of course, I won't kill you, don't say foolish things. I could never hurt you."

He cupped my face again, caressing my cheeks, "I'm sorry if I scared you, darling."

"What is going on?" I whispered again as the words hardly came out of my mouth, having gone dry like a desert.

 "C'm here." He took my hand and pulled me towards himself, making me crawl over the center console and straddle his lap. His hands immediately held onto my waist and pulled me closer to himself.  I circled my arms around his neck carefully as he pulled me down to his chest and hugged me tightly. I took a deep breath of his sweet candy-like cologne, the skin of his neck warm.

"I'm sorry for scaring you. I just…there is a lot going on, and I lost my head for a second. Please, forgive me…" His hands ran up and down my spine, caressing it, leaving nothing but shivers in its wake. His body was a like a magnet, I couldn't detach myself from it, it felt impossible.

"Tell me what’s going on." I whispered into his neck weakly, closing my eyes.

"Well, I'm not a priest." He said, still caressing my back.

I scoffed, "Wow, shocking news."

"How did you figure it out?" His hand slowly traveled up to the hair on my nape, massaging my scalp as I felt my body temperature rise, comically thinking that I was going to slip right through his fingers from the warm touch.

"I saw you a few times with those people…" The way he started massaging my scalp became a little firmer, and a moan almost slipped through my lips "…doing some business, I assumed. So, I started following you."

"My darling couldn't stay away from me, huh?" His hand resting on my waist slowly slipped under my blouse, his hot fingers starting to trace my warm skin up and down. Suddenly, the fantasy I had in mind while watching him in church, during the service, fought its way to the forefront of my mind, it being his hands slowly tracing down the curves of my body. I would’ve never thought that it was really going to happen.

I slowly lifted my head up from his chest to look into his eyes, which left a fire in its wake. The chill I felt an hour ago was gone in seconds, and I have never felt hotter in my life before seeing the heated desire in his eyes, it could’ve burned me up whole.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked him, trying to get rid of the tension between us.

"That’s a very long story, darling." He leaned his forehead against mine and closed his eyes. He pulling me impossibly close to himself as he held my waist with both hands.

"The night is long now that you have kidnapped me." I whispered barely inches away from his lips as they were almost touching mine.

"Yeah?" He whispered back, his lips hovering over mine, ghosting against them. His hands ran up my warm body passionately, his nails digging into my skin roughly.

I hummed at that, as words couldn't escape my lips, his hands on my skin making my stomach drop. He breathed shakily against my lips and I felt his body getting hotter as he finally pressed his lips against mine hungrily. I kissed him back with greed, our lips moving in sync against each other, my dry lips now fully wetted with his saliva, which tasted like sweet candies. His right hand tangled into my hair, running his fingers through it and it made me moan against his lips. San took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside my mouth, discovering every inch of it as my tongue danced along his passionately. I grinded down against his crotch, and he let out a guttural groan at the stimulation. His hand on my waist slipped down to my ass, and he grabbed it harshly just to push me down against himself harder. We both let out a moan at the feeling, and we separated to get some air as I slowly started feeling dizzy from the lack of oxygen. His forehead pressed against mine as we both breathed heavily against each other's mouths.

"We should stop…" San whispered against my mouth, his lips touching mine as he kissed me again, now a little slower. He sucked on my lower lip to take it between his teeth, and bit it so hard that blood started to drop down my chin, seeping into the collar of my blouse. I winced from the sudden pain, making me grind down harder against him. I have long lost my sanity; I have lost against the sins that caged me in until I wasn't aware of anything at all around me.

"Why?" I asked weakly as we separated again.

"Because I want to fuck you properly, on a bed." He told me, sharp eyes boring into my own, almost as if I had no other choice but to obey him. My body shook from the desire I felt for San, and I really had no other choice but to obey his wishes and let him fuck me senseless, giving in to the guilty pleasures.   

Part 2->

[miharuki]

𝖁𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖒𝖔𝖚𝖘 𝕾𝖓𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝕷𝖚𝖐𝖆

Ruki note: I had this weird idea while writing another imagine, cobra luka, gender neutral reader (gender not specified) au miraculpus

It was just a few days of vacation at a camp with your friends. The forest was very beautiful, especially at night, with the most stunning waterfall you had just discovered. You were eager to take a dip, but it would take too long to return to the camp to fetch your swimsuit, and it was hot that night, so why not?

On a whim, you took off your clothes and left them on a rock in the grass to keep them clean, and you jumped into the water. You were thinking that you would come back here with your friends the next day to enjoy the waterfall's good water.

You were having so much fun, marveling at how the moonlight illuminated the scene so well, that you didn’t notice something brushing against your feet—something scaly. Looking at the water, you saw the tail of a snake slithering between your feet. Turning to sense the presence behind you, you froze in terror when that thing appeared—a huge blue snake with hypnotic eyes.

Turning to run from the giant snake, you felt your wrist being pulled back. Turning around, you saw a young man where the snake had been. The snake had vanished, and the only thing there was the young man with black hair tipped with blue and those hypnotic eyes.

You snapped back to reality when pain struck you. Looking down, you saw the boy biting your wrist. Pulling your wrist away quickly, you held it against your chest, and with the throbbing pain, you ran, grabbing your clothes and sprinting back to the camp. You stopped briefly to put them on before running back to the camp, glancing at your wrist and noticing the two puncture wounds from the fangs. You didn’t realize how close you were until you were near the campfire.

You turned to look back, thinking the boy might have followed you, which made your friend Alya find it strange. “Did something happen, (name)?” Alya asked, looking at you with confusion, noticing you were scared and wet. “I-I had a—” You could barely speak, and realizing this, Alya got up from her place on the log and walked up to you, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you to sit on the log as you looked like you might fall or faint at any moment. “Breathe, what happened to you?” Holding your wrist, you took a deep breath before finally letting it out and looking at the girl in front of you. “I found a waterfall and decided to go in. There was a snake there, but then it changed. I tried to leave, but it turned into a boy, and then he—”

“Calm down! You’re talking too fast!” Alya said, resting her hand on your shoulder, noticing you were trembling. “What happened?” You showed your wrist to the girl, with the snake bite. “A snake, a boy, I don’t know what it was, but it bit me!” you said, almost shouting, with Alya finally noticing the seriousness of the situation. “Oh my God! I’m going to call the others. Who knows if it was poisonous,” Alya said, as she stood up and ran out, leaving you with your hand outstretched toward her. “Don’t leave me here!” It was too late; Alya was out of sight, and you were alone. Whether the snake was poisonous or deadly, you didn’t know, but you knew it had some effect since you were starting to feel strange. You began to hear a very faint humming, as if your friends were approaching and you could hear their voices, but it was becoming background noise as you focused on the melody. With your vision blurring, you turned to see where the melody was coming from and saw, from a distance in the forest, the same young man, identifiable mainly by his cyan blue eyes that shone among the dark foliage.

You couldn’t even hear your friends calling you from afar, not when you heard that boy whispering something. “Come with me,” he said, and you began to stand up. With your vision still blurry, it seemed that the only thing you could see clearly was that boy, the same boy from the waterfall, who seemed somehow so attractive. Your feet began to follow him slowly, watching him raise his hand as if wanting you to take it. Your friends' voices were so faint and distant, even though they were almost at the camp. All you could hear was the boy's voice drawing you closer, closer, but before you could lift your hand and touch his, something happened.

[wasitforrevenge]

new romantics pt 2

pairing: MODERN AU!college azriel x female reader

warnings/content: suggestive language, yearning!!! alcohol and drugs mentioned, two love sick idiots, some parts are flashbacks, this is not edited…ill do it later sorry, photos from pinterest

word count: 4.5k

summary: the start of long weekend vacation starts, azriel surprises you and both of you struggle with holding your feelings inside.

authors note: i feel like i use too many of the same words im trying here please! anyways hi part 2 of my azriel fic! i think im gonna write 4 chapters, i’ve already started on part 3 and can’t wait to post! hopefully this weekend, azriel smut coming soon!!!… i am so excited i can’t stop blushing as i write it so! enjoy this part and hopefully i’ll have the next one out soon! thank you for all the likes and comments! i appreciate all the feedback thank you all!

the next friday afternoon, you’re sitting in the last row of the room, fake listening to your english lecture droning out your professors voice with thoughts of azriel. as always. you truly wonder how you manage to keep passing.

this is your last class before a four day weekend, your whole day has just dragged on and frankly, you’re exhausted and just want to go home and do nothing all weekend.

your head has running with thoughts of last weekend all week. its been driving you mad. you’ve never been one at being able to talk about your feelings, like at all. growing up an only child left and never having any more than just a couple friends you knew growing up left you lonely.

but once you became friends with azriel, you just felt like you belonged somewhere. the days you just spend laying around and talking about anything and everything. whether its what some dumbs said in class, the best dad joke you can find to the hardcore shit from your childhoods.

the only thing you could never talk to him about was… him. all you wanted to do was confess to these feelings but yet you haven’t. how can you just admit to your best friend that you’re in love with him.

that’s also something you came to the conclusion to over this week. that you’re in love with him. you thought azriel was driving you mad before you realized this but afterwards… it was so much worse!

when you and nesta finally connected after the party, she for sure entertained your delusions. you told her about everything that happened, leaving out the way he talked to you and held you. that was something you wanted to keep for yourself.

you’re deep in your mind over him, yet again, when you hear a psst from behind you.

and there he was.

azriel peeking his head through the slightly propped door, he grinned when you looked back towards the door to see what was behind you. your eyes grew wide… he’s supposed to be in class right now but you couldn’t even think about that as he stuck his hand and motioned for you to come, there you were making sure your professor was turned to the chalkboard before grabbing your bag and going with him.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

when you got outside your classroom, azriel grabbed your hand and brought you directly to the car. he opened your door and let you in before sitting in himself. your eyes focus on the sight of his scarred hums gripping the steering wheel and all you can think about is that video of the girl saying “you wish that was you huh you wish that was you!”

he’s always done that and it sends butterflies through you every time. once he got in and started driving… away from the direction of your apartment. when you turning to look out the back window, you notice a couple bags in the back seat.

“oh my god az pleasseee tell me where you’re taking me” you groaned pretending to be annoyed at the man in the drivers seat.

he looked over at you again and the sparkle in his eyes just sends you back to when he was staring down at you laying on his chest, cuddled up against him.

he laughed and said, “sorry can’t tell you it’s a surprise.”

you groaned again, even louder this time. “this better be good i missed the rest of the class for this.” you would miss every lecture for this man and he wouldn’t even have to ask.

“oh don’t worry princess, it’s insanely better than whatever that professer was saying… not that you were paying attention to anyway.”

you turned to look at him, mouth open wide and mumbled a shut up. he laughed so hard and then of course you had to laugh, but your eyes couldn’t ignore the way his chest lifted and the muscles in his arms contracted. what you would do to feel him hold you again.

the drive continued with you guys laughing and singing to the playlists on your phone. another thing you guys love to do is to blurt out states on license plates when you see a new one, something that azriel, of course, excels at and seeing them first every time.

about 3 hours later, you pull into a long driveway in the middle of the woods. you didn’t mind the long drive, in fact you and azriel mainly take backroads every time you guys go out just to take in the scenery. the trees and mountains on this drive particularly blew your fucking mind.

“is this where we going?” you ask looking out the window like a little kid, fingers holding on the door. azriel couldn’t help but look over at you as you spoke, his heart swelled at the sight of you.

the way your hair moved from the window open, how your skin gleamed in the sun shining through the windows of his old mustang and the look of utter excitement that coated your face the whole drive.

he doesn’t answer and just keeps driving up the dirt road before your eyes land on a beautiful, old wooden house next to a huge lake. you’re in awe of the masterpiece before you as you notice two cars already in the driveway. you know right away by rhysands honda civic and nesta’s toyota rav4, that everyone is here.

you can’t help but internally scream right now. you can’t believe that azriel has brought you here, and kept it a secret for you don’t even know how long. you look at him, eyes wide and he can’t help the smile that breaks out on his face when you look him.

you smile back at him, even bigger than the one he gave you if possible before your eyes turn to the front door and you see nesta and cassian standing there waving at you to come inside.

you go to open your door but azriel is there doing it for you before you even notice he got out of the car. even though you loved sitting in his car engulfed in the smell of him, you couldn’t wait to get out and spend the weekend here.

you step out azriels car, breath taken away yet again at the view in front of you. nesta is throwing herself into your arms before you even realize, engulfing you in a huge hug.

as she pulls away, you see through the corner of your eye azriel and cassian getting your bags from the car. she grips your hand lightly in yours and starts pulling you towards the house as she asked you about your drive up.

walking inside the house, she let go out of hand and spun around in a circle yelling “TADA” as you both laugh. your eyes dart across the house to the two big L black couches, along with a couple comfy chairs, a fire place along a wall that had shelves covered in books and photos. floor to ceiling windows covered the outside of the house giving you an amazing view of the trees, mountains and lake surrounding the house.

to your left, you see a open wooden kitchen, cabinets littered the walls with a huge two door fridge with a huge kitchen island, covered in different bottles of alcohol. oh yes you guys will be partying it up over this long weekend.

you hear the steps of people behind you, hoping to see azriel again you couldn’t stop staring at him during the drive up. everyone he caught you staring he smiled at you and just kept on driving, like it was perfectly normal. you turn around to see rhys and feyre walking down the staircase next to the entrance way of the house along with azriel and cassian walking into the open front door.

your smile widened as you saw him and you felt nesta jab her elbow into your side and you gave her a glare before she smiled wide at you, before leaving to walk to the kitchen.

you laugh in your head and walk towards azriel to greet everyone, “hi friends!” you said as cassian pulled you into a bear hug. what you didn’t see was cassian give azriel a wink as he embraced you. he pulled away with a laugh before both feyre and rhysand brought you in for a hug.

as they let you go, nesta called everyone to come to the kitchen. they followed but you stayed there as you watched azriel move your bags off to the start of the stairs to take up to your rooms later so you guys can join your friends in the kitchen. he turned around he saw you there watching him. he swears his heart almost explodes out of his chest every time you look at him.

azriel was ready to tell you that he was in love with you. it’s a feeling he refused to admit for years up until a couple months ago. despite not admitting it, deep down he knew what it was, he never had anyone treat him like you did. the way you cared about him and just treated him normal after so many people in his life have just walked on eggshells around him.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

when he met you, he was attached to you from the start. he knew a lot about greek mythology, taking the class was just something fun for him and when you and him got partnered together, he knew it was the beginning to an end. the way his heart started beating faster when you came around, the way his hands got sweaty when you accidentally brushed hands or when your thigh rested against his while sitting next to each other in the library.

cassian and rhysand knew something was up the way azriel came into rhysand’s apartment. the faint blush still on his cheeks, and the smile that didn’t seem to disappear. this had been happening a lot over the past couple weeks when they saw him.

azriel walked in, backpack slung over his shoulder as thoughts of you looking beautiful, sitting across from him at the coffee shop you guys were studying at that night. he didn’t even glance towards the couch until he heard cassian call out to him, “what’s the smile for az?.”

azriel turned towards his brothers, seeing their own smiles painted on. azriel laughed as he walked over and tossed his bag into the chair beside him before taking the seat next to cass.

he swiped a hand over his face and sighed in exaggeration, “what smile?” when he looked towards them, the shit eating grins on their faces said it all. they knew about the unrequited crush he held onto for mor, they knew what his family did to him, all they hoped is that whoever was making azriel smile this much wouldn’t break his heart.

a few weeks later, azriel walked into his own apartment, with you in tow. after he came across you in the elevator, he realized it made spending time together a lot easier. after class one evening, he invited you over one night to join in on movie night with his friends.

he finally told his friends who you were a couple days ago. they couldn’t even remember a time they had seen him talk about something so passionately, rhysand and cassian don’t even think that he registered it. azriel was still insisting that you guys were just friends.

that night was spent watching the jurassic park series. you were so relived walking to his apartment, you were nervous to meet his friends but he assured you everything would be okay and there was nothing to worry about. you loved that about him, sometimes you didn’t even realize how much you stressed yourself out, but every time you spoke it, azriel was there assuring you everytime.

after three movies, four bags of popcorn and a ton of candy, you were starting to doze off. you were so comfortable on the couch surrounded by the way azriel’s apartment smelt.

azriel, who was sitting next to you, noticed that you were getting sleepy and leaned down to whisper in your ear, “hey princess, i’ll walk you down.” you nodded to him with a smile. he stood up and offered you his hand. you guys said your goodbyes and everyone pulled you in a hug. you loved his friends already, nesta especially.

he holds his your soft skin with his own flawed, he could never really get over the way you felt against him. during this point of him liking you, the touch was minimal but he ate it up every time. azriel opened the door and walked out behind you, his hand ever so lightly grazing over the small of your bag where your t-shirt had ridden up.

“but the scene of the t-rex oh my god az,” you laughed lightly as you were exiting the elevator on your floor. he shook his head at you, “no way the scene with the kids in the kitchen was the best in the first one!” he insisted throwing his arms up in exaggeration.

“okay az whatever you say.” you giggle as you approach your door, turning around to face azriel behind you and grab your keys out of your shorts pocket. you look up and meet his eyes as he towers over you. you stand in silence staring at each other before you tear your gaze away, you wonder how long you’d been staring at him like that. he gives you a smile as you look down nervously with your keys in your hand. you turned back to unlock your front door then moved back to face him to say goodnight.

“thank you for movie night az, we have to do it again.” he brings his hand to your cheek and moves a piece of hair that fell into your face from your messy hair clip, he tucks it behind your ear as you look up at him again. “of course, its rhys’s turn next but you can have the one after him.” he said with a laugh as he stepped closer to you. your feelings for azriel were getting worse. it was an innocent crush at first but now… he’s all you could think about. your heart was basically beating out of your chest, your chest almost brushing against yours, you could feel the warmth of his body spreading over yours.

he was pressing against you now as he leaned down, you watched him as his face made it to yours, you were so eager to kiss him but instead he brushes his lips against your ear to whisper, “goodnight sweetheart, ill see you tomorrow,” as he gripped the doorknob behind you and opened the door for you. he leans back and gives you a huge smile as you step back into your apartment, mostly in shock at the way his body felt against yours. you smile back at him before whispering back, “goodnight azriel.” and shutting your door.

azriel is still in front of your door, a few moments longer than he should been after you were in your apartment. he shakes his head with disappointment in himself as he finally walks away. he was so centimeters from your lips and just couldn’t do it. what if you weren’t into him? he didn’t want to press your boundaries, he needed to know this was reciprocated before he did anything.

as much as he wanted to go back there and knock on your door until you opened it, so he could pick you up in his arms, carry you to your bed and fuck you like it was the last night in the world, he just could not.

at least… not yet.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

you don’t even know what time is it now as you all sat outside on the patio behind the house. it overlooked the huge, dark lake with trees covering every inch that surrounded you, not another house in sight. it was incredibly peaceful as you sat on the swinging bench in the corner with azriel, your legs over his lap as you both held drinks in your hand. the sky lit up with stairs as you looked around at your friends talking amongst themselves. you guys spent the day playing drinking and card games. playing cards against humanity with the inner circle was truly a remarkable time. feyre and rhys made homemade pizzas for dinner and they were amazing. you guys laughed for hours and now out on the deck, everyone else sat in chairs around the fire pit as you guys passed a few joints around.

azriel was laughing at whatever cassian said along with rhys while feyre and mor chatted, she showed up halfway one of your card games. amren was nesta sat in the chair next to the bench you and azriel were sitting on as you both sipped on glasses of red wine, talking about the last smutty books you were reading.

as you spoke to her, you couldn’t help by getting distracted at azriel holding the bottom half of your leg with his hand as they rested of his lap while the other one left a glass of whatever they were drinking now. he was just barely moving it back and forth but god it sent chills through your body, it doesn’t help that nests speaking about whatever book she was reading lately as you focused back on what she was saying, trying to get the thought of him touching you farther up out of your mind.

“the slowburn was top tier,” nesta said to you giving you a wink as she sipped her wine, “but oh my god the way they fucked,” letting out a frustrated groan, she shook her head as you both laughed.

“yeah nes, just wait until the sequel, if you thought that was good… you’re in a for treat.” you wiggled your eyebrows at her and laughed. you hear azriel laugh next to you and turn your head towards him. drunk you wants to kick everyone to their rooms and take him, here and now… but alas you’re stuck just staring at the beautiful man in front of you. the way his muscles flex when he laughs, and the way his chest moves. his tattoos peek out of the collar of his shirt and all you wanna do is hold him in your arms.

an hour goes by hanging out by the fire before everyone else else heads to their rooms, leaving you and azriel swinging on the bench smoking another joint. he blows the smoke out in a laugh as you guys talked about the last episode of parks and rec you guys watched. you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of the weekend with him. it just felt a little too natural.

“oh my god duke silver… i just cant,” you laughed as he handed you the joint. azriel laughed, “ron swanson is the best part.” your heart starts beating faster as his hand is now actively rubbing up and down. this bench was surprisingly comfortable but

“along with april,” azriel said and you couldn’t help but agree, they just really are. you hit the joint a few times and pass it back. “okay az, i’m tired now,” you look at him with a small smile on your face. “okay let’s go,” he said with no hesitation. you let out a little laugh and move your legs off his lap, instancing losing the warm of his legs and hands on you.

you guys head into the house and azriel grabbed your bags to carry them up to the 2nd floor of the house, you guys walk down a hallway to the end and he stops in front of the door on right. “here this one is mine and that one,” he said pointing to the one directly across from his, “is yours.” he smiled at you before you turn and open your door as he opened his.

you grabbed your suitcase and carried it into the room and shut the door. you move and find the light switch. locating it, you switch it up and look around the room in front of you. only to find mor asleep on the bed. you quietly groan, out of exhaustion, drinking all day on vacation really takes it out on you. you aren’t close enough with mor so you cant just slide in next to her, so now you’re stuck with your last option.

azriel.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

immediately after entering the room, azriel took a seat on the edge of the bed. his hands still warm from rubbing them on your legs as you sat next to him the whole time. he looked at them, the scars were hard to deal with but never once it did bother you. but they bothered him for some reason, old insecurities and harsh memories all wrapped in something he has to live with everyday.

when his hands are on you, it’s a different story. it’s something he never wants to stop doing. he’s mesmerized by you entirely. he’s in the midst of his thoughts about you when he hears a low knock on the room to his room. he stands up and opens it.

seeing you standing outside his door in the dimly lit hallway, suitcase next to you, hand up about to knock again. he sees you jump at the way he opened the door so fast, not expecting him to be there already.

“hey princess, did you get lost?” azriel said as he leaned on his shoulder against the doorway, a smirk across his tired face.

“mor is asleep in my bed…” you grumble, “can i sleep with you?” you ask him.

a millions are in his head at once. mainly the last time you guys had slept next to each other, the night that he beat the shit out of that guy for touching you, the warm of your body against his, it was like that the entire time. something that he wanted forever. he wanted you in his bed, right now.

with his mind crowded, azriel just nods as he picks up your bag handle and brings your suitcase in the room, shutting the door and locking it behind you after you stepped in.

“thank you az,” you tell him sheepishly.

“you didn’t even have to ask,” he says smiling at you, he points to the other door in the room, “there’s the bathroom so you can get ready for bed.”

“thank you, i’ll be back.” you tell him as you walk towards the bathroom. he watches the door shut behind you, he needs to get himself together before you come out, the thoughts he’s been having all day about you, clothed and naked, where consuming him, yet again.

he realized that you didn’t take anything to the bathroom when he hears the sink turn on. before it’s off, he moves to his own suitcase and grabs a large t shirt he brought and a pair of boxers for you to wear, he loved when you smelled like him. he grabbed out a pair of gray sweatpants for him to change into.

he hears the bathroom door open and looks over to you stepping out. you give him a smile as he watches you walk to suitcase next to his. you pulled out your toiletries bag and were about to pull out your pajamas before azriel had to cut in.

“here you can wear these,” azriel told you, he felt his face grow red, cursing himself for not holding himself together. “thank you az.” his gaze moves down to your lips as you smile at him, taking the clothes from his hand, he feels your fingers brush his. he watches as you turn back around and head to the bathroom to change for bed.

azriel took this time to change into his own sweatpants while he waited his turn for the bathroom. he connected his phone to the tv and put whatever episode of park and recs you guys left off on, leaving it on for background noise and he turned off the light, leaving the room with a small glowing lamp in the corner by the door.

azriel watches the tv from the edge of the bed as he sees you from the corner of his eye come out of the bathroom. dressed in the clothes he gave you, his heart started beating faster.

“i feel like i’ve said thank you a thousand times but thank you again az,” he heard you say as you walked towards him. he looked up to meet your gaze as you stood, almost in between his thighs as he rested his hands on them, “thank you for bringing me here, this place is fucking beautiful- i can’t wait for tomorrow, you’re amazing az thank you,” he feels your hand reach up and hold his cheek, rubbing it thoughtfully over his sculpted cheekbone.

he couldn’t help the way his cheeks heated up under your gaze, “thank you for coming with me, this will probably be a weekend you will never forget,” azriel said with a nervous chuckle, rubbing the sides of your hips.

azriel heads to the bathroom to brush his teeth and go to the bathroom before you guys go to bed. when he comes back, he sees you in the blankets like it’s the most normal thing you’ve ever done. the comforter is pulled up to your chin as your eyes linger on the bathroom door as azriel stepped out.

he moves toward the bed and walks around to the opposite side of the bed, sliding in next to you before he lays on his side, facing your back. the show plays in the background as he watches you turn to face him.

azriel lifts his arm and brushes some of your fallen hair behind your ear as he spoke, “i’m glad we’re here.”

“me too az,” you say quietly.

his hand rests on your cheek before azriel watches you move to cuddle into his chest, just wanting you to be closer to him. he wraps his arm around your body, pulling you closer into his body as he kisses your forehead.

“goodnight princess.”

“goodnight az.”

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

thank you all for the support, love and feedback! here’s the taglist for this! thank you guys so much! comments and feedback are always appreciated

@purple-haired-faerie @thespencerhastings-blog1 @scorpioriesling @kitsunetori @scooobies @elsie-bells @nickishadow139 @lilah-asteria

[ursuburbanmother]

I’m On Fire, But I’m Trying Not to Show It || Chapter Four

Pairings: Angus Tully x fem!reader

a/n: did you guys know fifty dollars back in ‘66 was like five hundred dollars??? I didn’t and now I wish I never did. Anyway I kinda just wanted to explore more of Angus and Y/n relationship before the event of the holdovers. So a little backstory on this one. I maybe got carried away. Also this is a long ish chapter cause I have MAJOR exams to take so yeah :0 it might be while till I update again.

Word Count: ~7.5k

Enjoy!

Four Years Before - June 12th, 1966

Your parents had fled to Barbados for a destination wedding which they would follow with a cruise they claimed to deserve. Although it was one of those rare occasions where they had extended an invitation, you had declined. The prospect of being able to stretch your legs on the couch without worrying if you would be crushing some unknown guest, or to be able to walk into rooms without crashing into a waiter passing out shrimp puffs, was much more appealing. You had been left behind with fifty dollars for your fun fund, as your mother called it, and a kiss on the forehead. The nanny your parents kept on retainer would check up on you occasionally only to find you were much better at cleaning up after your messes and doing ordinary tasks than your parents. She’d leave after a few hours and then over the course of the first week she stopped coming.

You had prepared yourself for a month of solitude after Angus had announced he’d be spending his vacation at a tennis camp in Montauk. You must have been reorganizing your bookshelf for the third time that day (once by alphabet, then by color, and finally by size) when you heard a knock at the door. The sun had just begun to set, the sky colored a purple-blue, and you cautiously decided to take your fathers golf club. You dropped the club shortly after opening the front door to find not the face of Norman Bates but of your best friend. You scanned his tear-stained face. His eyes were glossy and his cheeks rosy, like when one stands in the snow and is attacked by the harsh winds that nip at your skin.

He collapsed into your arms, and you are quick to hold him steady. He was crouched over, having had a growth spurt a few months earlier, making it hard for you to look at him eye to eye.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

It was the summer of ‘66, where paranoid parents were starting to believe rock music would possess you. Ironically, it was the year Pet Sounds came out and you couldn’t stop rewinding the songs on your turntable. And most significantly it was the summer you spent with Angus.

He broke the news through jumbled words and choked down tears. How his father had been placed in a Mental Health hospital and how taking him to camp was just an excuse to make sure he wouldn’t be there when the people from the hospital came to pick his father up. They had apparently come early, mixing the dates up.

“Does your mom know you’re here?” You asked, hugging his torso.

“No. I'm sure she’ll be coming to check soon though,” he sniffled, “She’ll probably try to drag me to Montauk anyway and say that ‘it’ll be good for me’.”

You kiss his curls, “What if you stay here?”

He lifts his head up, “I’m not sure she’ll let me.”

“I think she will,” you reassured, “I am a very good guilt-tripper.”

“You can try if you want. How much did your parent’s leave you anyway?”

“Enough for both of us, don't worry. Even if we run out, we could whip something up to eat.”

His eyes widened, “Let's stick to take-out.”

Your house was the first place Angus’s mother looked in, just like he had predicted. He hid at the top of the stairs, staying away from his mom's line of sight as she pressed you for his whereabouts. You had been truthful about how he wanted to spend the next few nights here.

“Are you serious? I’m not going to leave two fourteen-year-olds alone, unattended, unsupervised! God knows what you’ll get up to.”

“We’re not going to do anything!” you argued, “We’re smart enough to not light the house on fire and to dial 911, in case we happen to. Angus just wants to be away for a little while. You should understand why,” you glared.

She looked down, shuffling her heeled feet.

“Besides, you take him away now he’s just to keep coming back here,” you sighed, stating the obvious.

She cleared her throat, coughing as she nodded, “Fine. Alright. Uhm- just make sure he calls me. Okay?”

“Okay,” you do your best to stop yourself from slamming the door in her face. "Bye.”

“The coast is clear,” you shout to Angus who came barreling down the stairs, skipping the last few steps.

“Did she look mad?”

You shrug, “A little. But she'll move on.”

He hums, agreeing as his eyes flicker around the room. He’s looking at the house he must have been at least a thousand times, whether because you invited him or because your parents did. And for the first time in either of your lives… it was completely silent. …

That first night Angus slept on your bedroom floor on a mattress you had dragged from the guest room. You had only your lamp on, and your window was open just wide enough to bring in the refreshing summer air. You were reading a few pages of your book to Angus, and when you glanced down you saw his eyes beginning to close.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No. You have a nice voice is all.”

“Thank you. You do want to go to sleep though,” you observe.

“Should I turn off the lamp?” He says almost immediately. He lifts himself up slightly so he can reach your bedside table and waits for your permission to turn it off.

“Yes please.” You settle deep into your duvet. You turn to the side that faces Angus and wish him goodnight.

A few minutes later he speaks up again in a whisper. “Thank you again. For letting me stay here. I'll be out of here by next week, swear.”

“If you could, I would want you to stay here your whole life.” He scoffs at your words as you lean up with the support of your elbows to stare him down. “I’m serious. I only wish I could live in a house with you. Except somewhere far away from here.”

“By the beach,” he adds.

“Yeah. On a beach so obscure they can’t even send us mail because no one will know our address.”

“Oh no. How would your parents ever send you the invitation for your debutante ball?”

“I guess they’ll just have to throw it without me.”

“Shame,” Angus sighs. “I would love to see you in a white dress.”

You pause and then crash down back into your bed. You admire the garland that hangs above you. It’s made of postcards your parents sent you during their many endeavors. In that moment you're reminded of them and turn to Angus. “Oh. About that. My mom told me to tell you to prepare to be my escort in a few years.”

“Already?!” …

You and Angus had fallen into a routine. He’d sleep way later than you, sometimes until noon, and you’d wake him when you got too impatient and hungry for breakfast. He’d stir and groan to the point that it was obvious he was faking before finally getting up.

You would carry what you could from your kitchen pantry onto the backyard patio and eat under the summer sun. It was like an all-you-can-eat buffet of fig jam, English muffins and sometimes pears from the tree that stretched over your neighbor's fence. Afterward you and Angus continued your day in the green grass. He would sprawl himself out on a picnic blanket and read a comic book, wearing shades that were on the verge of tipping off his nose. Meanwhile you would tend to your mother's garden. You’d put on her straw hat too, just to make it feel like you were with her.

When you were little, you’d pull the weeds out of flower beds as your mom pruned her lavender. It was her dearest plant, and she treated them so, regularly nursing it to keep it alive. She’d motion for you to come with her and pick up the shears from the gardening shed. Eagerly obedient, you did as she said, and you would work together until called for lunch. Your mother was always a vivaciously elegant woman, always knowing the right things to say and charming anyone she met. You often wondered why you hadn’t inherited her brilliance, the one that made her seem as if she was glowing in any room she inhabited. It was odd that she’d often claim her ability to converse was her greatest ability when the two got along best when moving in silence.

You did your best to care for the plant too. Before you mom left, she asked to handle their upkeep. You took your duty seriously, checking in on them every day until you saw one sign of disarray.

That summer was like playing house. And although you never admit, for the fear that he’d read too much into and freak, it was exactly as you had often dreamed it to be. June and July passed quickly, and you hadn’t even noticed it. You imagined a life where it could just be you two forever, away from your parents and outside of stifling Massachusetts.

You imagined a life in an apartment described as ‘quaint,’ by the realtor to disguise the incredible small square footage. You wondered if he would like to be in a city like New York or Chicago. Somewhere that was always busy, and the chirping of morning birds was replaced by honking cars.

By the time August had rolled around, you could practically hear the unmistakable sound of the school bell ringing in your ear, warning you of its proximity. Thoughts about the future had you asking Angus one bleary Sunday afternoon, “Are you nervous about starting high school?”

Angus was pushing you on the tire swing, trying to give you motion sickness by twisting the ropes of the swing and letting them untangle a second later.

“Not really. It’ll be like eighth grade just with more tests.”

“I guess. But aren’t you nervous about making new friends and stuff? What if we tangled ourselves into a web so deep that we can’t talk to other people normally.”

“Then I have done my job of keeping you to myself.”

“Haha,” you deadpan, “Seriously though. Won’t you miss having me to talk to?”

“Of course I will. But you’ll write to me and crap… right?”

“Of course,” you echo his words back to him, “You’ll visit me when you get the chance too, correct?”

“Eh. If I’m not busy.”

“Angus!”

“Yes! Obviously, I will.” He pushes you a little harder.

“I do want you to be more out there though. Don’t go sulking in corners like you always do. People would really like you if you let them talk to you for more than one minute.”

“You’re starting to sound like my mother Y/n.”

“Seriously though. Did you notice we’re always addressed as ‘Y/n and Angus’ by teachers. Never just Y/n and never just Angus.”

“Yeah. But I like it. It’s like Bonnie and Clyde. You can’t separate them because then it sounds plain wrong.”

“Okay Clyde,” you roll your eyes. You stop swinging, scraping your shoes through the dirt until you are still.

“I’m giving us two weeks before we break down to each other over the phone.” You lose the hold you have on the tire swings and let them drop onto your lap. You simmer under the sun and enjoy the breeze that flows through your hair.

“Don’t go replacing me when you get to your school.”

“Don’t worry, you got a head start seven years ago. No one else will be able to catch up,” you smile teasingly. “Maybe I’ll find myself a boyfriend though. About time for the both of us, don’t you think?”

He frowns, “You don’t need a boyfriend.”

“Yes, I do. Everyone else does.”

“Since when do you do what other people do? I think you should stop talking to people who peer pressure you,” he flicks your forehead.

“Why?” You rub your forehead, “Do you want to be my boyfriend?” You smirk.

“Gross! No! I was just kidding. Get a boyfriend, I don’t care.”

“You wouldn’t care if I got a boyfriend?” You look at him skeptically.

“As long as he treats you nice and shit,” he rubs the back of his neck.

“It’s just that we do everything together Angus. There are some things I would like to get over with that I can’t do with you.”

“Like what?” Angus wrinkled his nose in confusion.

“Like hold hands and go to bowling alleys or whatever.”

“We’ve done that.”

“I like…kiss,” you whisper, fidgeting with your hands.

“Oh,” he chuckles awkwardly. “So would you want to do that … now?”

“What!” You shout, leaping off the swing and walking a few steps away from him. “I’m not asking you to,” you clarify, shaking your head.

“No, but I would like to be over and done with it too… so maybe we should just…” He motions his finger between you two.

“Uhm,” you laugh, tilting your head, “Wouldn’t that be weird?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean anything. It’ll be just to check it off the list,” he shrugs nonchalantly.

“Um, yeah, okay,” you move closer to him in small timid strides. “You lean in though. I read that the guy is supposed to do that in my mother's Cosmopolitan.”

“Right, right,” he nods eagerly, interlocking your fingers together. With hesitancy he leans his head down and pulls you even closer to the point where you are bumping your noses. You close your eyes, and it's like your brain begins to spin like those show wheels with choices on them. Your brain tries to land on a feeling but loops on endlessly. His lips are softened by the humidity, and you don’t even notice it is over until a couple seconds after he pulls away.

When you think back on it, it really was the most 'first kiss moment’ to ever exist. It was more of a peck, both of you were bright red and shortly after you were as stiff as statues. Not knowing what else to do, Angus clears his throat and removes his hands from yours to wipe them on his shirt. “So, uh, what does your mothers Cosmo say to do afterward?”

You let out a breathy laugh, “I don’t know. I didn’t read that far.”

…

Christmas Eve - December 24th, 1970

After that summer, when you shared a weepy goodbye and headed off to your own high schools, it was undeniable that something had shifted between you both. Even if it often went unspoken. Neither you nor Angus had brought it up, but on occasion you would acknowledge it. Like last night after leaving the auditorium to return to the common room and pick up the dishes, your eyes drifted to the TV where a cheesy kiss scene was happening on screen. The two of you shared a knowing look that said, “That’s not how ours went down,” before shutting the television off and helping Mary into a more comfortable sleeping position.

You tried not to dwell on the past, but it was hard not to when the only thing in your childhood that had always been good, always been constant, was Angus. Every time you looked into his eyes it was like the decade you had spent together flashed by in a sequence of blurs. All he had to do was breathe a specific way in his sleep to remind you of some obscure memory that had died but he had brought back to life.

This morning you felt like you were ten again and Angus was trying to steal your bread rolls at Thanksgiving dinner. Except today he tried swiping your bacon as you shoved him off playfully.

“Get your own Angus,” you say playfully.

“I’ll trade you for my toast,” he offers.

Rolling your eyes you accept, grabbing the bacon and shoving it in his mouth, “Fine.”

“Thank you,” he says, muffled.

You munch on your toast and catch Mr. Hunhams stare.

“I see you two finally made up,” he comments with a sly smile on his face.

“Mm-hmm,” you cover your mouth with your hand as you chew and turn away embarrassed.

Mary joins you all a second later, emerging as usual with her coffee and a cigarette. She switches between eyeing the two men infront of her, “Why’d you two miss supper last night?”

Mr. Hunham and Angus freeze. “We went into town on, uh, some school-related business.”

“And you couldn’t call? You left me and Y/n out in the cold.”

“Yeah Angus,” you pout at him as he nudges your ankle under the table.

“Sorry,” Hunham turned to you, “And to Ms. L/n.”

“No worries. Really. I had fun,” you smile up at Mary who pats your shoulders gently.

Danny, a man you had been introduced to a few days ago, enters with a mop and bucket. You wave to him which he acknowledges with a slight bow of his head.

“Good morning, everybody.”

“Hi, Danny,” Mr. Hunham greets.

“Good morning. You can go on in and make yourself a plate,” Mary points to the kitchen.

“I just saw something funny,” Danny focuses onto your friend. “I walked into the gym, and somebody had vomited in there.”

Mary and you raise your eyebrows in sync.

“You don’t say. I don’t know anything about that,” Mr. Hunham feigns surprise.

“Yeah, me neither,” Angus wipes his mouth as he speaks.

“I’ll look into that right away. Thank you,” he dismisses the conversation.

“Mm-hmm. I see how it is. Trying to leave us out of your boy's club,” Mary tsks. Danny places the custodian supplies beside Angus' chair and walks away.

“Gross Angus,” you say, like it's his full name. You shake your head in disappointment. He nudges your ankle harder, shaking the silverware above. You fight back, beginning to use your hands as a defense. You two are soon in a game of tug of war.

“Knock it off you two! You are acting like fractious children!” Mr. Hunham scolds and stands up from his seat. Across the table, he tries to part your hands. “This is not how young scholarly men and women behave!”

You and Angus are too drunk on laughter to care. …

You and Angus are in a search for Mr. Hunham who stomped away upon realizing stopping you two was a fruitless cause. You intend to apologize; Angus intends to nod along as you speak. You follow the chatter you hear coming from the kitchen to find Mary replacing you as you as her sous chef.

“Hey that's my job,” you point at the potatoes Mr. Hunham is peeling.

“That’s the culinary industry for you. It’s cut-throat. You still want to be a part of it?” Mary peers over her glasses.

You run a hand through your hair, shrugging. “Um. Mr. Hunham?”

He stops his task, “Yes Miss L/n?”

“I want to apologize for my-,” Angus clears his throat, “Our behavior. You were right. It was very inappropriate. Emily Post would turn in her grave.”

“She certainly would. I accept your apology, however unnecessary. I understand it was that childlike spirit in you that is still intact that came out.”

You shoot him a quizzical look. “Uh yeah…”

Angus gasps behind you as he notices the tray of brownies on a table beside him.

“Brownies? God, yes. I want all of these.”

“Each of you just take one. The rest are for the Christmas party tonight.”

Angus snags you a brownie before practically chomping his down.

“What Christmas party? There’s a Christmas party?” He perks up like a dog being told he’s going out for a walk.

“Yeah, at Miss Crane’s house. I’m only gonna go for a little bit, show my face and say I was there. You know Miss Crane said she invited you too.”

“Who’s Miss Crane?” You ask, inspecting the brownie and wondering what Mary does so differently to get it to taste so good.

“School secretary,” said Angus with a full mouth. “Just one of the loveliest faculty members at Barton,” said Mr. Hunham at the same time.

A beat passed as you all noted the flustered expression that passed through Mr. Hunham face.

“Ah- anyways, she didn’t mean it. We were just making small talk.”

“If you don’t want to go, don’t go. I’ll take them.”

“Mary can take us,” problem solved, Angus thinks.

“Oh! Okay… so we are going! I packed a dress that’s been collecting dust in my luggage.”

“No, that’s not how it works. You’re under my supervision,” Mr. Hunham reminds.

“Okay, maybe it’s fine for you to sit around reading books all day, but I am losing my goddamn mind! Jesus!” Angus' suddenness makes you flinch. You avoid the flying brownie as he storms past you.

“Hey! Watch your mouth, young man. Not on Christmas Eve!” Mary yells after him.

“You, see?” Mr. Hunham points at his retreating figure. “I can’t trust him in a social situation.”

“Mr. Hunham, if you’re too chickenshit to go to that party, then just say so. But don’t fuck it up for the little asshole or his sweet little angel of a friend! What’s wrong with you? It’s just a party. What are you afraid of?”

“I don’t know,” Mr. Hunham said so quietly you could hardly hear him.

“Shit. Now you’ve got me nervous,” Mary wipes her hands on her apron.

You’re still standing there until they hear you go retreat the brownie and throw it in a nearby waste bin. “I could replace those?” You laugh uncomfortably.

“That’s alright sweetie. I want to come out of this party with my reputation intact,” Mary winks.

“Ouch,” you clutch your heart jokingly. “So can I go get dolled up?” …

Someway, somehow, Mary had gotten Hunham to take you to the party. You got ready in the room Ye-Joon and Alex had occupied before. You hadn’t anticipated wearing anything fancy, so the dress you had was a relatively simple one. It was red which fit the Christmas theme well enough and ended just above your knees. You hoped Mr. Hunham wouldn’t make a big deal out of it like Ms. Orchard probably would. You wore flats and did your hair the best you could without products. Although you had managed to give it some more volume by using some leftover soda cans that had yet to be thrown out. It was a common hack all Janie Patrick School girls learned in their freshman year. It was practically a seminar, as the senior girls taught you how to roll them into your hair just right.

You waltz out of your room, feeling as fresh as a daisy and catch Angus shaving. You sneak up behind him, putting your hands on his shoulder and looking at him through the mirror. “What is there to shave Augie? You’re as clean shaven as a newborn baby,” you tease.

You try to check your makeup and feel Angus stiffen under your touch. You remove your hands and see him staring at you open-mouthed.

“What?” You panic. Had you screwed up your hair? Was your mascara too clumpy on your lashes?

“Nothing,” he gives you a once over as he gulps. “You just, you look, you… you look pretty.”

“Oh,” you tuck your hair behind your ear, “Thank you. It’s just the makeup.”

“No, it’s not that. You always look pretty; I just never have a reason to tell you. But I can… today.”

“You look handsome everyday too…” you fidget with your hands.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smile up at him bashfully. Quickly you take the razor from his hands, “even more handsome once you change. We’re going to be late."

You run back to your room and try to regulate your breathing. In the reflection of the fogged-up window, you admire yourself momentarily. You suppose you do look pretty tonight. …

You four travel in Mr. Hunhams rickety car. You awe at the town Christmas lights before arriving in front of what you assumed to be Miss Cranes house. One by one you all enter, lingering by the front door like wallflowers. You inch closer to Angus, self-conscious suddenly. You loop your arms together when Miss Crane enters to greet you.

“Oh, hi. Oh, you made it! Welcome,” she pauses to address you and Angus, “Aw hi!”

“I'm so glad you're here,” she tells Mary.

She laughs at the flattery and refers to the brownies, “Where should I put these?”

“Um, oh,” Miss Crane lifts the cloth draped over the tray and gasps, “Those, I’ll be putting on my bedside table.”

“Oh! You're a wicked woman.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” she takes the tray off Mary's hands.

“Certainly a lot of people here,” Hunham comments, surveying the room. It is lively with Christmas classics blasting on the radio and kids running around playing tag. The entire house is decked out, almost looking like the spirit of Christmas had barfed out the decorations. Some adults take a swing of their liquor, others smoke, others do both as they chat.

“Yeah, yeah. Some family, friends from town. Only you guys from work.”

“That’s my mom on the couch,” She points to an older lady sitting by the silver and blue Christmas tree. Next to the woman dancing with her toddler who wears no pants. “Uh, that’s my sister Kathy and her son Marvin.”

As she continues to point out each invitee you wander with Angus further into the living room. He seems captivated by a snow globe on a mantel. He shakes it and watches as the snow falls around Santa. You too are enchanted by the sweet melody that plays from it.

“Angus!” Miss Crane snaps you both from your trance. Miss Crane stands next to a girl who appears to be around your age.

“This is Angus Tully. He’s one of our students at Barton. Angus, this is my niece, Elise,” she introduces.

“Niece Elise. Nice,” he glances at you, hoping you got the joke as Elise rolls her eyes at his word play. You give him a tight-lipped smile. “And is his friend Y/n L/n. She goes to the school across the lake from Barton. Janie Patrick’s.”

“Nice to meet you,” you stretch out your hand for her to shake. She does so awkwardly.

“And this is Mr. Hunham. He’s one of our finest teachers. History, right?

“Ancient Civilizations, yes”.

“And this is Mary Lamb. She’s the manager of the cafeteria.”

You don’t know why, but you start chewing your nails. A habit you had thought you had broken in the seventh grade. You bite down particularly hard every time Angus glances at Elise.

“Hey, why don’t you take Angus down to the basement and introduce him to our family tradition?” Miss Crane has a hint of something you can’t identify in her voice.

“Come on,” Elise tilts her head and hesitantly he seems to follow.

“Um. What about Y/n? Can’t she come?”

“Don't worry about that! I have someone I think she would like to meet,” Miss Crane nudges you forward.

“Oh?” you say worriedly.

Elise takes Angus away by the hand and distantly you hear him call out, “Wait what?”

“His name is Joseph Leery. He’s a freshman at Yale!” she gushes.

“Oh? Great? Go bulldogs? That’s the mascot, right?”

“Honey, save your charm for him!”

…

Angus descends downstairs. He repeatedly glances behind him, desperately searching for the remaining bits of your voice. “Um. Maybe I should go back upstairs? My friend Y/n doesn’t do so well with crowds so.”

“Nonsense! She’ll be fine. If I know Auntie Lydia, she’s probably introducing her to the Leery's son, Joe.”

“Joe?” Angus scowls at the name.

“Yeah. Family friend of ours.”

Elise leads him to an arts and craft table, full of scattered red, green, silver and white pipe cleaners. Glitter is spilled everywhere, and the kids take their time decorating their popsicle sticks.

“This is what you wanted to show me?”

“I grew up playing down here during my aunt’s parties. I think it’s kind of cool. There’s a purity to it. I mean, every child is an artist. The problem is remaining an artist when we grow up. Picasso said that.”

“Picasso’s cool,” Angus digs his hand further into his front pockets, “I saw Guérnica once. You know, the big mural, with the horse,” He tries to mimic it as best he can.

“Yeah, I know Guérnica. You really saw it?”

“Yeah. At the Museum of Modern Art in New York. It’s huge. My dad took me.” And Y/n too, he wants to say. Although if what Elise said was true, that Miss Crane fancied herself a modern-day cupid, then he figures he should try not to scare her off by bringing up another girl.

Although it's hard not to think of you when he thinks of his dad. His dad liked puzzles which you happened to have a plethora of that your parents had bought you to keep you entertained during long plane rides. This was before they trusted you enough to leave home alone.

In the winter you’d sit by the fireplace and lay out the puzzles of Monet’s Water Lilies. Then when the spring would offer you limited warmth, you’d all be found in the backyard of Angus’s house trying to piece together Van Gogh's Starry Night.

So many art inspired puzzles eventually had Angus’s father turn to you both and asking, “How would you guys like to see these in real life?”

That easter break had you three crammed into a yellow taxicab and enjoying New York pizza slices.

“Hey Guérnica,” she breaks through his nostalgia plagued mind, “You just gave me an idea,” she smiles.

…

Mr. Hunham stands by the funky-looking Christmas tree when he feels someone’s lips crash onto his cheek.

“Oh!” He says shocked. He feels as if he had just been dumped into a cold bucket of water.

“Mistletoe!” Miss Crane laughs, pointing at the little green and red plant that hangs on the ceiling. She hands him the Jim Beam he asked for earlier as she wipes the side of his face clean to get rid of any lipstick that might have been transferred.

“Yes, of course,” he laughs along, unsure of what else to do but to let her caress his face. “I didn’t you know you were quite the mastermind.”

Miss Crane tilts her head and motions him to elaborate

“Playing matchmaker for Mr. Tully and Ms. L/n.”

“Oh! Well, when Angus said they weren’t an item I figured they’d were itching for a chance to mingle outside of their little circle. I hope I didn’t overstep anything. After all I imagine they don’t get many opportunities to openly chat with people of the opposite sex! Dating is crucial in shaping character.”

“Yes, I imagine it is,” Mr. Hunham agrees, unsure if that is fact or fiction. He is awful at letting silence just be silence, so he does what he does best. Spew nonsensical facts.

“You know, it’s interesting. Aeneas carried mistletoe with him when he descended into Hades in search of his father.”

“Oh. Huh…” Now it is Miss Crane who is unsure of what to do with that.

“Um. Anyways. I like your tree. It’s really space age,” he comments and is hit slightly in the shoulder by her enthusiastic hand.

“I brought it to commemorate the moon landing!”

“Really? Wow.”

Miss Crane takes a sip of her punch, “So where is your family this Christmas.”

“Nowhere. I’m an only child. My mother died when I was young.”

“And your father?”

“Let's just say I left home when I was fifteen.” If Mr. Hunham had known this was what small talk topics had evolved into, then he must have been right in avoiding social functions all this time.

“You ran away?” She guesses.

“Worse. I got a scholarship to Barton. And from there, I went to college and never looked back.”

“But you did a little,” she points out.

“Hmm?”

“I mean you came back here.”

“Ah.” He really did not feel like being questioned so heavily tonight. Not to pat himself in the back, but he believes he's credible enough to label himself as a decent writer, able to handle the equal weight of a pen and his words with ease. But as a conversationalist, he figures even one of the dimwits in his Ancient Civilization classes have him beat.

“It feels kind of like home I guess,” he muses, “and I guess I thought I could make a difference. I mean, I used to think I could prepare them for the world even a little. Provide standard and grounding that Dr. Greene always drilled into us.”

Mr. Hunham can feel himself run out of breath, “But, uh the world doesn’t make sense anymore. I mean it's on fire. The rich don’t give a shit. Poor kids are cannon fodder. Integrity is a punchline. Trust is just the name of a bank.”

“Well…” Miss Crane tries to soothe him by running her hand back and forth on his arm, “look, if that's all true then now is when they most need someone like you.”

Mr. Hunham knows when he is being humored and told what people he wants to hear. He looks at Miss. Crane and for the first time in a while he is looked back at with genuineness.

…

Elise and Angus finger paint on a wide piece of blank paper. He’s mixing the colors, and they all tend to come out looking a sickly brown. Elise covers her side with an untainted red. She seems to be more into it than him as she incorporates real swirls and shapes onto their canvas.

“Am I doing this right?”

“There is no right or wrong,” she reassures. He feels her stare linger on him for a second. He is scared to look up. “Are you okay? You seem… gloomy.”

“Yeah. I’m fine. But, uh, tell me about this Joe guy.”

She looks at him suspiciously, “Why?”

“Just curious. Don’t think I’ve ever heard of him around my school is all.”

“Well probably because he graduated over a year ago.”

“So, he’s in college.”

“Yes. A freshman at Yale.”

“Yale!” He shouts loud enough for even the kids to glare at him for disturbing their fun. “Sorry,” he apologies to them.

“Would you say he’s cool,” he asks a millisecond later.

Elise tries not to laugh at his blatant desperation, “Yeah I would say so.”

“Funny?”

“He's basically Gene Wilder.”

“The dude from The Producers?!”

“Yes, and he was also a football quarterback.”

“What.”

“And valedictorian, and the heir to the Campbell Soup Company.”

“What the hell? Is this guy superman or,” Angus takes a minute to recognize the smug face on Elise. Finally, she breaks out in a loud giggle.

“Oh,” Angus sighs in relief, “You’re messing with me.”

“A little,” she says through fits of laughter. “Anyways if you’re so worried why don’t you go back up there?”

“I was just worried that he would try something. But technically he sounds alright.”

“Ah. So, you’re jealous?”

Angus rolls his eyes, “No. I’m a concerned friend.”

“I’m not sure about that. Concerned friends don’t start interrogating the girl they are on a hypothetical date with.”

She leans down to point at a glob of paint in the corner of the paper, “I think you even doodled her name.”

“Shit,” he curses under his breath, going over it and trying to cover it up along with his embarrassment.

“Don’t worry. It’s not like this was going to go be framed at the MET.”

“What are you implying anyway,” he narrows his eyes.

“You’re going crazy being gone from her for two minutes. What do you think I’m implying?”

Angus slumps his shoulders and admits what had been ignoring. It's like a message in a bottle he threw into the sea, desperately trying to avoid the shore. Even when it does reach land, the cap is tightly sealed, clinging on to the bottle and doing it best to remain unread. When it does pop open and the paper is unfolded, although it might be difficult to read, the message still exists. It still exists even though time fought so hard to destroy it.

“I do think about her that way. Sometimes. Then the rational side comes out and tells me that it's human nature for a girl and guy friend to think about each other that way.”

“Well, does she know you think about her that way?”

“No. Sometimes I imagine she feels the same, but you’d have to know her to understand why I’m so confused. She’s the most thoughtful, kind, and perfect person in the world. It's hard to tell if she’s showing that side to everyone or if I’m special enough for her to give me that treatment.”

“You know Picasso also said that ‘Everything you can imagine is real’.”

“Are you Picasso's biographer?”

Without missing a beat, Elise smirks and says, “Yes.”

Angus is up the stairs without having thanking her, too fueled by adrenaline to practice basic manners. He’ll have to tell Miss Crane to pass on the memo. He’s on the hunt for you but is yanked into the house's kitchen by a mysterious hand.

“Hey?” He asks, disoriented.

Danny is staring straight at him, with both hands on either side of his shoulder.

“I need you to find Mr. Hunham,” he orders. Angus looks past the man to see Mary weeping heavily into the sink. Understanding, he nods firmly and is back out the door.

…

Joseph Leery is not half bad. He’s kind of funny, clever and not a bad person to pass the time with. You sit in the back of Miss Crane's living room on a couch all to yourselves. He tells you how he’s majoring in English in hopes of becoming a journalist.

“What kind of journalist?”

“Investigative. I would love to be the next Upton Sinclair. Or Seymour Hersch.”

“Ew! The Jungle made me so sick for a week after. It was so gross.”

“I know but that's what made it so great. Exposing the meat packing industry probably put him on a few hit lists too.”

“Oh yeah definitely. So, then who are you planning to expose?”

He laughs, “I don’t know yet. Is there any chance you’re planning on becoming some corrupt politician?”

“Not in the foreseeable future. I’ll let you know if I ever do,” you giggle.

“What are you planning to do then?”

“Then? Um... Like as president? I don’t know. Fund schools-.”

“No,” he laughs harder, “I mean like with college and life. Do you have anything planned out?”

“Erm, not really. My parents probably want me to go to the Ivy Leagues and crap. I should have a plan, I know, but I guess I’ve been putting it on the back burner.”

“Why?”

You shift in your seat. “I have this friend. He’s sort of had this rocky life, not I haven’t, and I know it's stupid to mold your entire life to fit around one person’s but for him I would.”

Joseph sniffs and straightens his posture. “Sorry. Lydia didn’t mention you having a boyfriend.”

“No, I don’t,” you stress, “I just really care for him, you know. We’ve known each other for so long. He’s important to me.”

“Y/n have you ever read Persuasion?” he asked suddenly.

“Um, not yet. I know the gist of it.”

“Well, it's ultimately about regret, right? Anne spends eight years longing for Wentworth when she could have been with him instead, had she not given into pressures. The point of the novel is not to wait to love the person you’re sure is it for you.”

“Love?” You hear someone say above you. You look up to see Angus, his arms stiff by his side. He glowers at Joseph. You jump off the seat and on operating on some strange reflex you go to fix his shirt collar that has stood up.

“What's wrong?”

“What were you guys talking about?” he interrogates.

“Books. Why?”

Angus doesn’t buy it but ignores the gnawing feeling in his gut, “Mary needs us in the kitchen. Go ahead, I still need to get Hunham.”

“Oh…Alright,” you turn and wave to your brief companion. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah maybe,” Joseph lifts his canned soda as if to say cheers.

You walk on ahead as Angus loiters behind, silently scrutinizing him.

Joseph takes a sip from his coke and points towards the direction you disappeared to. “Your girl went that way man.”

Angus rolls his eyes but leaves, nonetheless.

…

Miss Crane and Paul are sitting next to each other, their drink half-finished. They can feel the red tinge on their cheeks and themselves becoming looser.

“Are you planning anything special for tomorrow?” Lydia inquires.

“No. Why? Are you having a…”

“No, I just thought maybe you’d be doing something special for Angus and Y/n.”

Mr. Hunham shakes his head and Miss Crane lets out a small gasp, “You should! Help preserve some of the magic. Angus may be a little difficult, but he’s still just a kid. So is Y/n. And life catches up to them so fast. Them,” she stares at her lap, contemplating. “Ha. Us!”

“You’re a very sweet person, Miss Crane,” he compliments.

Miss Crane melts, “So are you, when you want to be,” she quips, “and it’s Lydia.”

He enjoys the feeling of camaraderie between them. He feels a cool breeze at the back of his neck and the sound of the door opening.

“Excuse me for a minute,” Miss Crane gets up and moves past him.

Mr. Hunham turns in time to see a man take off his coat, a gift under his arm. A moment later Miss Crane is there to receive him with a kiss. Together they walk away, and Mr. Hunham is left alone. Once again.

“Mr. Hunham, could you come with me, please?” Angus nearly trips as he stumbles over to the teacher.

“Yeah, what is it?” He sighs as he gets up with a groan.

“Come on, it's serious,” Angus leaps away. Peeking at him at the corner to see is Hunham is following, “Come on.”

Mr. Hunham is dragged into the kitchen, where he spots Mary, crying quietly to herself. Danny is next to her. You’re across the room biting your nails and hinting at Mr. Hunham to do something.

“Mary? You alright?” he questions, even though he knows it's in vain.

“Just leave me alone,” She mumbles.

“Want me to take you home?” Danny offers, placing what he thinks is a consoling hand on her back.

“Back off! Back off!” Mary whisper-shouts, her hands shaking down in anger. Mr. Hunham shuts the door, giving her privacy if nothing else.

“He’s gone,” she erupts into full on sobs. The mask comes off and she’s no longer Mary, the woman who appears to deal with grief like it was nothing but a bump on the road. Instead, it's Mary, who lost a son and whose grief has entirely consumed her until she can no longer breathe.

…

Angus and Mr. Hunham support Mary on both sides, as they make their way to the car. “I was right. This is why I hate parties. That was a disaster. Total disaster!”

“Speak for yourself. I was having a pretty profound conversation. I was about to make some serious life altering moves,” he blurts, angry and unable to believe his window opportunity was slammed shut. He had an internal plan. That'd he’d whisk you away from stupid Joseph and ask you to dance, maybe lead you to a mistletoe and see where it goes.

“With whom? The niece? Are you kidding me? This poor woman is bereft, and all you can think about is some silly girl.”

“I don’t need you feeling sorry for me.”

“I’m not talking about Elise; I'm just saying this is the first good thing that came from being in this prison with you.”

“Need I remind you it’s not my fault you’re stuck here? Do you think I want to babysit you? I was praying to the God I don’t believe in that your mother would pick up the phone, or your father would arrive in a helicopter or a submarine or a flying fucking saucer to take you-.”

“My father’s dead,”

“Angus-,” he hears you say but he holds up his hand for you to stop speaking.

Mr. Hunham stops dead in his rant, “But I thought your father-.”

“That’s just some rich guy my mom married. Give me your keys,” he sticks out his hand.

“It’s unlocked.”

Furiously, Angus stomps away. You excuse yourself from the two adults before doing your damnedest to not slip on the ice. Flats at this time of the year were not your best idea.

“Angus,” you reach him, tugging at the back of his jacket so that he’ll slow down. “Why did you say that?”

“Say what?”

“The thing about your dad,” you mumble.

“The way my mom and Stanley talk about him, he might as well be don’t you think?”

“You don’t mean that,” you scold. “What happened? Are you really this mad about Elise?”

“No. Damn it. I don’t even like Elise.”

“Oh,” despite the circumstance, you can’t help but feel giddy. “Then what is it?”

“You seemed to be having a pretty good time yourself with Joe on that couch.”

“Joe?” You cross your arms. “You mean Joseph?”

“Oh great. You have a nickname for him.”

“Angus, Joseph is his legal name, that's the opposite of a nickname.”

“I don’t want to talk about Joe,” he says. You both reach the end of the block where Hunhams car is parked. In the distance you see them come closer, their feet crushing the white snow.

“You brought him up,” you massage your temple. You think back of the endless list of books you have read, or the many movies you’ve watched. You scour through the genres. You think of how Joseph managed to connect to life. You think of the rewatch of Cactus Flower with Mary. How envious Ingrid Bergman character was every time she saw Julian talk to Toni.

“Angus, were you jealous of Joseph?”

He stops his ongoing struggle with the car handle, finally prying it open.

“Were you jealous of Elise?” he asks you.

You frown and fixate on the pavement; your nails dig into your palm as your hands turn into fists. Deafening silence engulfs you before Angus exhales heavily. Before you can speak, Mr. Hunham arrives and motions for you to scooch over so he can open the passenger side for Mary.

“Sorry,” you apologize and get in the backseat.

“Straight to bed you hear me,” Mr. Hunham warns once you are all buckled in. “Enough theatrics for one day.”

“Mmhmm,” Angus responds, but all he is doing is looking at you.

[haikyu-mp4]

Beach, please

word count; 634 – f!ChubbyReader, this is for @ennoshitas-princess for @cottonlemonade's summer event, fluffy beach day with husband Ennoshita

Going to the beach could be a tiring ordeal, but you haven’t known the trials of a beach day since back when you and your husband were just boyfriend and girlfriend. That’s because Ennoshita always came prepared.

You looked around in your cute bikini, one hand holding the brim of your sunhat while the other held the beach bag off the sand.

Meanwhile, Ennoshita efficiently put up the dedicated parasol and then rolled out the blanket, pinning each corner down. Not a trace of sand spilling on top of it. He got up for a second to admire his work before coming over, kissing your cheek and taking the bag, moving on to taking out the snacks and little cooling bag. “There you go, love.”

It was all so perfect, nothing could ruin a beach day with your husband.

Except maybe his high school friends.

You both sat down, double-checking your sunscreen layers before laying back, your head resting in his lap while he leaned on his elbows and observed passer-byers.

“What a great spot!”

“Ennoshita always gets the best spot.”

“What snacks did you get?”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you lifted your head, looking to the side where Nishinoya, Tanaka, Narita and Kinoshita had put another blanket overlapping yours, dragging some sand over in the process. “Why are you guys here?” Ennoshita yelled, making them all turn to him in surprise.

“You said today was beach day,” Nishinoya said as if it was obvious from there.

“Yes, with my wife.” His words were just sharp enough for you to sit up, sighing and handing him a water bottle to cool off.

“That’s okay, we can all have a relaxing day at the beach together!” you said positively. However, there was no mistaking the look in Ennoshita’s eyes. He did not agree.

And he was right.

Ennoshita tried to focus on you, he really did. At first, he was relieved someone could watch your stuff while the two of you took a long dip in the ocean, and Ennoshita couldn’t have been happier than watching you enjoy the beach even though you were wearing little to nothing. He had been there with you through learning to love yourself and loved you every step of the way.

“You’re so gorgeous, your husband is very lucky,” he cooed, sneaking his hands around you so you’d come close enough for a kiss.

“I’m the lucky one, he’s just a hopeless romantic.”

It almost made him forget about his friends until you returned to your spot and saw they had eaten up all your snacks.

Later, there was the terrifying exclamation Hey, I brought a volleyball! Even though playing got them to move away, Nishinoya had dived into the sand so much that when he came back asking for a water bottle, he carelessly dripped sand all over the two of you. Ennoshita wouldn’t have minded it so much if he didn’t know you hated having sand stuck everywhere if you could avoid it.

Finally, he had enough when the lot of them begged him to join their rally, even though they should have been perfectly fine with a two on two. You watched with pursed lips as it finally boiled over.

“Can you guys leave us alone?!” The ball dropped onto the sand with a soft sound and they were all blinking at him like sheep. “I am trying to enjoy the day with my beautiful wife before our joint vacation ends, and you guys were not part of that plan!”

One by one they pouted, kicking the sand like little boys and murmuring apologies under their breaths. “Sorry, Chikara. Sorry, Mrs. Ennoshita.”

“Don’t worry,” you assured them, laying a chubby hand on your husband’s shoulder and tilting your head cutely. “I’m having a very nice day.”

masterlist

[timetoletmyimaginationfly]

Falling In Love Again

Nanami Kento x Reader

Requested by @patpatspatz . I hope you enjoy! Sorry it took me a bit! It’s been getting busy with school again.

(Song Inspiration: Scott Street by Phoebe Bridgers)

“You alright?” Utahime asked. You quickly wiped your tears and nodded. You rubbed your nose with your sleeve.

“Yeah,” you breathed out and straightened out your body.

“You got the call? I’m here to let you know about your mission,” she said as she sat down next to you.

“I was about to head there.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Just…life.” You stood up and tied your hair up in your usual ponytail. “I’ll be back in a few days I guess.”

“Few days?”

“Since I’m in Tokyo, I might as well have a tiny vacation for myself. See you later.” Utahime watched you walk away. Confused, she stood up to figure out what happened. But when she did, she caught a shine in her eye. Her eyes widened and she picked up a familiar ring on the ground. Anger filled her as she stormed throughout the Kyoto campus.

You thanked the assistant manager and walked towards the area. You already know it’s going to be a rough mission. Your mind is constantly wandering. You’re there but not really there.

“Are you okay?” The deep voice that was in front of you made you jump. You looked up and down at the tall, blonde male. You can sense that he is a sorcerer and you found him interesting with the suit and tie he wore.

“Y-Yeah, I am,” you said quietly. You bowed and introduced yourself to him. He mirrored your movements.

“Nanami Kento,” he said. “So, you’re from the Kyoto school.” Puzzled, you nodded your head. “Did you get notice that this was a joint mission?” Slightly, your eyes widened.

“I-I did not,” you answered. You rubbed your arm, feeling slightly embarrassed. “Sorry, it just hasn’t been a personal good week for me.” You watched him nod, his expression still apparently blank.

“You seem tired,” he said softly. You don’t know why, but his gaze just seemed so intense. You slowly looked away and nodded.

“Like I said, not a good week.”

He stayed close by as you two walked around, finding the culprit of mysterious murders around the construction site. The building was half done, but still a danger zone. You were finally focused. After the first encounter of a weak cursed spirit, you found yourself back in your zone.

“Nanami-san,” you whispered. Nanami looked at you in response. The two of you hid in the hallway. “Three more weak ones.” You closed your eyes for a few more moments before opening them to see Nanami’s calculating ones. “The big one is up one more level.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. You nodded confidently. “Your technique…”

“There’s a certain distance that I can see around me,” you said. “I’m a good support.” You watched the corner of his lips curve up. You caught your breath and for the first time in the week, you felt okay. Even for a moment.

“Then, you must be a good planner,” he said. “How should we go about this?” You smiled and started to list a handful of options and continued from what you and Nanami agreed on.

The two of you watched the veil go down after defeating the curse. It took longer than usual, just as you expected. The sun was already setting and you checked your phone for the time. You saw many missed calls and text messages from Utahime. You sighed, feelings from earlier were back to overwhelm you.

“Did you get hurt?” Nanami asked as he walked towards you.

But you didn’t respond to him. Your eyes remained on your phone. You returned back to how you were from when you two met. Unlike during the mission, you are now distracted, unfocused, and unaware of your surroundings. He couldn’t help but take a quick peek at your phone. He noticed Utahime’s name. And he saw the cap locked messages she sent one after another. Again, he called your name and placed his hand on your shoulder. You jumped back to reality and looked up at him.

“Nanami-san,” you said softly. He could practically see your eyes glisten with tears.

“Are you hurt?” You shook your head before looking at your body. “Your arm.” You nodded and watched the blood trickle down and drip to the floor. Nanami unwrapped his tie from his hand and wrapped your arm to help stop the bleeding.

“Wait! Your tie!” He stayed silent, making sure it was wasn’t too tight.

“Let’s get you checked out,” he said. You nodded. You didn’t have the energy to protest. You followed him in the car that was awaiting for him. “No one came for you?”

“I was going to stay in Tokyo for a few days.” Your eyes widened and you winced in pain. Delayed reaction for sure. “Ouch.”

“We’re not too far from the school.” You nodded, your hand not leaving your arm. Your phone dinged from another text message. It was Utahime again. You sighed, ignoring your friend and looked out the window.

“Okay, all done,” Shoko said with a small smile. You moved your arm, the sharp pain gone and scarless. “Utahime called. Will you be alright?”

“Y-Yeah,” you said.

“Nanami,” Shoko called. Your eyes widened. You looked up and watched him walk towards you two. You didn’t realize he was there the whole time. You held on to his tie tightly in your hand. “Make sure she finds a nice hotel to stay in.” You gave Shoko a look.

“You don’t trust me?”

“I just want you safe, and Utahime was worried. You wouldn’t say anything to her. So, Nanami is staying close by.” Shoko would’ve gave Nanami a stern look to agree, but his quick yes surprised her. Shoko was pretty sure he wouldn’t be flattered with the option.

“Nanami-san, thank you but I’ll be okay,” you said as you hopped off the table. “I will get your tie cleaned up and I’ll return it before I go back to Kyoto.”

You abruptly left and without a word, Nanami followed. You knew he was. Nanami made his presence known. But all the energy you had was gone. Nanami was nothing but kind. You didn’t have the heart to continuously push him away. So you walked side by side with him and let him follow you to the city.

He never said a word. His silence became comfortable to you. You just walked aimlessly around the city. And he never questioned you once.

“I caught my ex-fiancé cheating,” you confessed. “I came home from a mission a week ago and saw heels that weren’t mine. I smelled perfume that I didn’t own. And I heard a woman’s laughter and…more noises. I quietly walked to the bedroom door, it was opened ajar, and end of story.”

Nanami was in shock that you told him. Someone you just met today and yet here you are, telling him what was wrong.

Why did I tell him…?

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. You only nodded in response. Nanami mentally sighed and looked around. He held your shoulder and turned you around. You faced a dim window. People crowded the area inside as they talked, laughed, ate, and drank. “After you.”

“Eh?” When you looked at Nanami, you felt your face heat up. His smile was soft, softening his usual blank expression.

“I had my heart broken once,” he said. “My friend took me here. Thought I do the same for you.”

“Why? We just met.” Nanami shrugged, hands in his pockets.

“I don’t see why not, right?”

“I-I guess not.”

He found a high, square table fitted for two people. He ordered the both of you drinks and food, an entree for him while you opted for an appetizer.

“How long were you with the guy?” Nanami asked.

“About six years,” you answered. “Engaged for not even a year.”

“How old are you?”

“I just turned 25.” Nanami nodded.

“So, your first relationship?” You nodded this time.

“Nanami-san,” you called. He looked at you and hummed in response. “How long was your relationship? Or maybe your longest? Did you have multiple relationships? Did you have to do the break up?” Your curiosity took over. Nanami looked at you with adoration.

“I just had one relationship. She broke up with me a few years ago and we’ve been dating for almost four years,” he answered. You gave him a pouty look. “She wasn’t a sorcerer and she hated that I was out most of the time.”

“Mine was too,” you said. “And he took advantage of it.” Elbows on the table, your palms rested on your cheeks. You looked at Nanami with sad eyes. “Love sucks.” Nanami picked up his drink and took a small sip.

“It does.”

“Nanami-san?” He looked at you. And when he did, he felt his heart skip a beat for the first in three years. You gave him a genuine smile. “Thank you for this.” He felt his voice in the back of his throat. So in response, he gave you a smile and nodded. He mentally thanked the dim lights that you couldn’t see the slight blush to his face.

“You’re welcome.”

“Do you do joint missions often?” He shook his head. “I’m glad my first one was with you then. I think we make a pretty good team! What do you think?”

“I think so, too.” You checked the time on your watch.

“I should check in a hotel soon,” you said.

“I have an extra room.” You looked at him with wide eyes before you shook your head.

“I-I can’t intrude, Nanami-san,” you said, your voice slightly shaking.

“It’s for a few days right? I don’t mind,” he said reassuringly. He didn’t know where it came from. Nanami inviting you to stay at his place. A broken-hearted stranger.

“Are you usually this kind to strangers?” you asked with a giggle as you swirled your drink in your cup.

“Technically, we’re not strangers anymore,” Nanami replied with a slight smirk. You blushed slightly. Nanami let out a small chuckle. “May the one who was broken-hearted help the current broken-hearted.” You raises your glass slightly.

“To shitty love?” Nanami raises his glass yet shook his head.

“To new love.”

You decided to clink his glass to those words. It was probably one of the few things that seemed right. So far, anything related to Nanami Kento felt right.

“WHAT?!” you pulled away from your cell phone from Utahime’s screaming. You sat on the balcony of Nanami’s apartment. After dinner, you quickly shopped for necessities after dinner. And he gave you a tour before the two of you went in separate bathrooms to shower. “Okay, okay. Look. Can you please tell me everything from the beginning? Please? As your best friend?” You sighed and nodded.

“It might take a while.”

“Wait, let’s get Shoko in this call.”

Once the three way call started, you began your story. You started from a month after the proposal when your ex became distant and secretive around you. You told them the things he did, what you found and speculated, up until last week when you caught him in the act. Profanities flooded your ears that you pulled the phone away from your ear.

“But are you okay? You dealt with it on your own,” Utahime said worriedly.

“I wish you told us earlier,” Shoko added. “I thought you guys were doing great.”

You sniffled and wiped your tears away. A soft knock was heard behind you. Nanami stood there with a tray that held two tea cups. You opened the door and quietly, he joined you, sitting on the empty seat. Nanami pulled a small packet of tissues from his pocket and handed it to you. You mouthed him a ‘thank you’ and he nodded back in response.

“After today, I am better than I thought I would be,” you said.

“Did Nanami accompany you today?” Shoko asked.

“Oh, Nanami was with you during the mission! That makes sense,” Utahime said.

“What does?” Shoko asked.

“She’s residing in the Nanami Kento resort for the next few days she’s in Tokyo.” You blushed. You slowly moved your eyes to Nanami who stared ahead at the city skyline. Before he looked back at you, you averted your eyes.

“Odd of him but that’s good,” Shoko said and yawned. “Alright, fill me in on anything else. I’m going to sleep.” Utahime called your name.

“Promise me that you’ll be okay.”

“I promise.”

“And take care of yourself.”

“I will.”

You and Nanami were alone. No phone in hand. Just the two of you sipping on tea while staring at the city skyline. It was content silence. And you didn’t mind it. You figured that you’ll take advantage of the silence with him to keep your mind at peace.

Gojo looked at Nanami as he was on the phone. He heard ‘joint mission’ often, which brought the white-haired man curiosity. He knew Nanami as a man who prefers to work alone. But for the past couple of months, he would hear ‘joint mission’ every now and then, making him curious as ever. So by the next day, he decided to confront him. But he was stopped when he saw the usual blank expression from the blonde male with a smile. His eyes widened when he watched him laugh. With a woman! He quietly walked backwards, eyes remaining on Nanami before he turned around and ran to find Shoko.

“Nanamin!” he yelled once he barged inside. Shoko was healing a young sorcerer. She raised an eyebrow at him.

“What about him?” she asked.

“He’s with a girl! She’s cute! He’s with a cute girl!”

“Oh yeah, I forgot she’s here today.” When Shoko briefly talked about you, Gojo nodded. “Leave them alone. You’ll just be asking for it.”

You smiled when Nanami looked at you with surprise. He noticed the change in uniform. From a purple and blue kimono, you wore a fitted dark purple tank top with a high neck and black shorts. You wore a black belt with small pockets to the side and a holster holding your katanas. You wore black gloves and knee high black boots. Yet, you kept your purple bow on your hair when you tied it up.

“So I work at both schools,” you answered. “After the move, the travel gets too much. At least twice a month I have to go to Kyoto.”

“You seem happier,” he said. “You’re like a different person.”

“Is that a bad thing, Nanami-san?” you asked teasingly. Nanami shook his head. “Thank you again for helping me move my things.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied. Nanami looked at his phone and nodded. “Ijichi-san is here. We should go.”

Nanami placed his hand on the small of your back. You smiled and it made him relaxed. He opened the back door for you, and you thanked him as he entered the car.

“Nanami-san,” you called. He hummed in response, his eyes focused on you. “Let’s have dinner after this.”

“Okay. Did you want Ieiri-san and Iori-san to come too?” Nanami asked. To his surprise, you shook your head. “You sure?”

“I’m sure,” you answered. “I see them pretty often.”

And after the fairly easy mission, you followed Nanami to the restaurant of his choice. You smiled widely. He took you back to the place where you first met. He opened the door for you and you happily thanked him.

“Now, you should order an entree from them,” Nanami suggested. You smiled.

“What do you suggest, Nanami-san?” you asked. “Should we order a bottle of wine? I’m in the mood for red.”

“Perfect choice. Do you like steak?”

“I love steak! Nanami-san, be lucky that I’m not a picky eater.” When the waiter arrived, Nanami ordered the drinks, appetizer, and entrees. You giggled, watching Nanami pour the two glasses of wine. “Feels like we’re on a date, Nanami-san.” You could feel your cheeks slightly warm up.

“It does, doesn’t it?” he replied with a small smile. “Have you thought about dating again.” He asked you slowly and carefully. As he asked, he paid close attention to your expressions. He didn’t want to hurt you. But he was relieved when you gave him a small smile.

“I don’t know if I’m ready but I probably won’t know if I don’t start, right?”

“Probably.” You raised your glass and Nanami followed.

“Cheers to new beginnings,” you said happily. He clinked glasses with you. “If you don’t mind, can I count this as a date?” Nanami felt his face warm up immediately. And automatically, his smile became larger.

“Only if you allow me to properly take you out on a second date. I—I can…what I mean to say is…” Nanami cleared his throat and loosened his tie. “Allow me to show you how well you should be treated and that, if your view on love is destroyed, I’ll have you believe that it’s a beautiful thing.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t address you to Nanami-san then. Is Kento okay?”

“More than okay.” You felt butterflies in your stomach. Maybe it was the brightened expression on his face? Or maybe the slight joy in his tone? “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” you answered softly. “My stomach did flips. In a good way.” His chuckle, oh my gosh his chuckle, it made your heart race.

“Good.”

Utahime shook you hard when you told her about your dates with Nanami. After the fifth date you two had the night before, you couldn’t help but to finally catch up with her.

“Utahime!!” you yelled to stop her shaking.

“You so love him!” she exclaimed excitedly.

“We’re not even official,” you mumbled. You held your warm cheeks in your hands.

“So? Nanami is such a sweetheart,” she said dreamingly. “If only more men were like him. But despite that, it doesn’t matter! Did you kiss him yet?”

“O-On the cheek.”

“Boring! Look, love is weird. It’s different for everyone.”

“But, what if he falls for someone else while I—“ The sudden insecure feelings started to rise. As your feelings for Nanami grew, so did your insecurities.

“Nanami will listen to you. Talk to him,” she said. “Speaking of…” You watched her squint. You turned around and your eyes widened.

“Kento…” Nanami smiled as he walked closer to the two of you. He greeted you both.

“Can I steal her?” he asked Utahime.

“Of course you can!” Utahime replied with a big smile on her face. “See you soon!” Before you said anything, she scurried away. Your heart was racing now that you and Nanami were alone. You turned to face him.

“Do you usually wear your kimono when you’re in Kyoto?” he asked curiously. You nodded. “It looks beautiful.”

“T-Thank you, Kento. I-Isn’t it your day off?”

“It is. I just wanted to see you.” You couldn’t help but giggle lightly.

“We saw each other last night,” you stated. Nanami watched your cheeks blush into a faint pink. He raised his arm and gently caressed your cheek.

“I know,” he said. “I couldn’t help myself. I love seeing your beautiful face.” He softly chuckled. “I want to spend time with you when you finish work. Maybe we could roam around Kyoto. And I’ll bring you home.”

“I would love that. I have paper work to fill out. Keep me company?”

“Of course, sweetheart. That’s what I planned to do.” He stood by side and held your hand, intertwining his fingers to yours. He slightly turned to your direction. “Lead the way.”

You were definitely more distracted with Nanami sitting nearby. You caught yourself looking up after filling out half of your paperwork every time. And every time you did, Nanami sat there comfortably while reading the paper. He turns the page, you quickly look away. The sound of his voice calling your name made you jump. And what he said made your world go round.

“I like you. A lot. Maybe even more than like you.” When you looked at him, his eyes remained on the paper. But you caught the pink in the tip of his ears.

“W-What’s more than like?” you asked slowly and curiously. You looked away but you listened to his movements. He stood up and you can see him walk closer to you, his shadow towering over you.

“I don’t want to say anything that makes you uncomfortable, sweetheart,” he said. “I know what I’m sure of. And I can wait for you to be sure.” Your body froze.

“How long are you willing to wait? Because …I’m scared.” A small amount of tears started to blur your vision, but you held them in.

“I know, sweetheart.” Slowly, he curled a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Have I done anything wrong?” You shook your head. “If I do, tell me. Okay?”

“I don’t even think you can do anything wrong. You’re perfect. And that’s what’s scary. You can have anyone you want.” Softly, Nanami gave you a kiss.

“You’re perfect. And the one I want is you. I can wait, sweetheart. Starting today, you are officially mine. If you have me.”

“I do want you, Kento. But the more I like you, the more insecure I get.”

“And the more I can show you how much I want you. I’m not going to leave you. I’ve shown two months of it and I’ll never stop.” You couldn’t find your voice, so you nodded. Nanami smiled and kissed your forehead. “Oh, I forgot.” You watched him reach inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a bow for your hair that matched his tie. “I thought it be cute if we match every now and then. I know it’s not your style.”

“I-I love it,” you said with a large smile on your face. You undid your hair with your purple bow and replaced it with his. “What do you think?” Nanami cupped your chin with his fingers. He looked at you lovingly and leaned in to kiss you softly on the lips. He left you in a daze.

“Beautiful.”

You couldn’t help but keep your hand on your stomach where you continuously had the worst gut wrenching feeling. You stared at your phone. Nanami’s message was letting you know that he had an emergency mission to attend to in Shibuya while you, Utahime, and the students were south of Kyoto. He never read your message back after you replied to him to be safe. And he likes to leave his read receipts on for you so you know he’s seen your message.

But after hearing Mechamaru’s message, you remained quiet. Praying for the train to hurry.

“It’s Nanami,” Utahime said. “He’ll be okay.”

“Shoko hasn’t seen him yet,” you said. “Ijichi-san and a few other sorcerers are injured.”

And once you all arrived, you went separate ways.

“Kento! Kento!” you called. You held in your tears. “Kento…” You closed your eyes, hoping to see him somewhere. You somehow got a glimpse. His figures blurred. His body lying on the ground. “Kento!”

You pulled your bow tie out of your hair. Your cursed energy flowing through it as you closed your eyes, letting your tears fall.

You’re alive. You’re alive. Kento, don’t leave me.

You gasped. He laid lifeless on the ground, body half burnt. You barely noticed him breathing. But the extremely subtle raise of his chest was good enough for you. You noticed the subway. The exact location. Once you opened your eyes, you ran for your life.

The gasped at the sight of the area. All of the civilians and cursed that were killed. You couldn’t help but cry again. Cry for the innocent people who lost their lives.

But now, your focus was somewhere else. You ran around the subway station in Shibuya. You noticed a couple of sorcerers from the Tokyo School as well. You found one carrying an unconscious Maki. You were relieved. She’s still alive.

“Kento! Kento…please…” When you turned a corner, you gasped. The amount of cursed killed laid around the area. “Kento!” You heard a voice so familiar. You ran towards the source of the voice. You gasped.

Nanami laid there, lying in pain. His breathing was shallow and eye lids half open. You knelt down next to him. Your body shook. All he did was give you a small smile. You looked at his body.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart,” he said and reached out slowly to hold your hand. “I’m here.”

“I thought…I thought—“

“How was your mission?” he asked weakly and tiredly.

“Idiot! Don’t ask me how my mission was when you’re about to die!” Nanami smiled. He saw your bow tie loose and wrapped around your hand.

“That’s how you found me?” You nodded. “That’s amazing.”

“L-Let’s bring you to Shoko. Can you even stand?” Nanami nodded. “Let me help you.” You held his hands and gently pulled him up so he was sitting. Nanami groaned. He was exhausted. But one look at you just helped him stay awake. Thinking he was going to die earlier, he was worried. He didn’t want you to worry.

“Sweetheart.” You looked at him with teary eyes. Nanami reached out to your face and wiped your tears away with his thumb. “I love you.” More tears fell and you hugged him.

“I love you, too. So let’s hurry up and get you healed.”

It was the middle of winter. The snow in Tokyo grew heavier. You laid down next to Nanami in his bed. One hand held his book while his free arm was wrapped around your shoulders. Your head rested on his chest while you scrolled through your phone.

“Kento, I’m getting hungry,” you said and looked up at him. You watched him smile. He wore an eyepatch and half his body was scarred through the burns. His hair fully grew back. And for a while, he feared that you would leave him.

“What would you like, my love?” he asked as he closed his book. You put your phone down and climbed on top of him and hugged him tightly as you straddled his lap.

“Soup and garlic bread.” You can feel the calming vibrations of his chest as he caressed your hair. You sighed in content and smiled. “Kento?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Thank you for loving me,” you said and raised your head so you could look at him. You cupped his face and caressed his cheeks with your thumbs. “I never thought falling in love again would be better.” Nanami held your left wrist and brought it to his lips to kiss it.

“I fall in love with you more every single day, my love. And I want my love for you to grow forever.”

[starsfic]

Halloween Night at Pigsy's

Summary:

The city, after the mayor's vacation in America, decides to throw Halloween, including trick or treating. The Traffic Light Trio is just focused on all the kids dressed up like them.

AO3/Ko-Fi

The announcement came three days after October 31st.

The mayor- the actual mayor, Long Xiaojiao had checked- had apparently been on vacation in the United States. She had been there in time to watch the American holiday of Halloween in full display, including trick or treating. It was usually overshadowed by the Mid-Autumn Festival and the Double Ninth Festival, until this year. She had gotten the idea to do mainly the trick or treating through the city’s main businesses- with candy provided by the city- to stimulate cash flow and, more importantly, as a way to bond over the past year or two of city and country-wide trauma.

"Hey, stop that sad look," Xiaojiao said, nudging Qi Xiaotian away from studying the announcement. "Not all of it is your fault. Isn't that what you're talking about with your therapist?"

"I mean, I guess." Xiaotian huffed, turning off his phone. "So, are you going to dress up?"

"Obviously!" Xiaojiao said, typing on her phone. "What about you guys?"

“Pf,” Pigsy snorted, bagging up some noodles. “If you’ll catch me dressing up on that day. It’ll be a fire hazard.” He paused, glancing over at Tang munching down on his third bowl of noodles of the morning, and then groaned. “But I will be offering a discount on noodles to those who dress up.”

Tang looked up with a gasp.

“DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT-”

“I wonder if I can get Wukong over to help pass out candy?” Xiaotian wondered as Tang started to gush at the idea. “He loves kids, and I think a lot of kids would be excited!” Even if they weren’t big fans like he was as a kid, it was still the Monkey King.

He was suddenly excited for this.

Things worked quickly in the city.

Almost by magic, every shop in the city was decorated with orange and black, green and purple, pumpkins and bats a few hours after the mayor’s announcement. Xiaotian couldn’t help but soak it in as he made his deliveries, enjoying the “spooky music” that shops began to play and the deals that were announced mirroring Pigsy’s own decision.

At least capitalism knew when to jump onto something.

Finally, the day arrived.

As he hoped, Sun Wukong agreed to come. He even ordered a truckload of candy to be delivered to the noodle shop, only adding to the sheer amount that Pigsy’s Noodles were willing to give.

An hour before trick or treating started, Xiaotian hurried down the stairs. Xiaojiao had offered to take him costume shopping, but he had refused. He had a perfectly great Monkey King cosplay! Sure, the real one would be there, but he was over the embarrassment of owning several pieces of merch.

Hopefully.

The noodle shop was all decked out, excluding Tang in his usual seat. Sandy was hurrying around, adding more cobwebs and purple glitter here and there, dressed up in a witch dress that complimented his biceps. Xiaojiao, dressed up as She-Ra, snickered from her spot as she snapped a picture of Mo in his little witch hat.

“Huh,” Pigsy said, looking around as he chopped bok choy. “I thought that six-eared weirdo would be here.”

“Bai He texted me,” Xiaotian admitted. “She’s under the cut-off, so she decided to invite Macaque trick or treating with her family.” He had even been willing to transform as a bat to compliment Bai He’s Count Dracula costume and that picture was going in the blackmail folder.

“Woah, bud! Looking good!”

Xiaotian looked up and nearly felt his heart stop at his own reflection. For a second, he was convinced that he had summoned a clone, then a flick caught his eye. Sticking out of his trademark red pants was a familiar golden monkey tail. Now that he looked closer, he could also see the blue eyeshadow and eyeliner.

“Monkey King!” Xiaojiao called, unaware of her best friend gaping. “It’s no fun if you use shapeshifting!”

“Aw…well, you got a point.” In a flash of gold, there was Sun Wukong, still wearing his clothes. “How do I look, bud? I don’t pull off orange as well as you do, but-” He paused, staring at him like he was deeply concerned…which he probably was. “You okay there, bud?”

Xiaotian sniffled. “I’mgreat.”

Wukong smiled and patted his shoulder as he walked past before calling to ask Pigsy how he could help.

The hour flew by once Xiaotian calmed down. He had to stop Wukong from making a bowl of candy with his hair, but that was fine. Soon enough, the clock struck six and a small yellow bundle rang the little bell that Sandy had rigged up.

“Trick or treat!” the kid called.

Xiaotian grabbed a bowl of candy. “Well, happy-” He looked down and nearly burst into tears again, cutting off his response.

The jacket. The bandana. The hair flap.

This little girl was dressed up as him.

“She really loves you,” one of the adults, her dad he was guessing, said with a smile. “The minute she heard about you, she insisted on getting a costume of you.”

“That…that’s cool!” No, he wasn’t crying. Pigsy was just cutting onions for the noodles. “You look really great!” He grabbed a handful of candy and threw it in her bag and grabbed a second handful. His mentor dressing up as him was one thing, this small child looking up to him was another. “I’m sorry, I’m trying to resist the urge to dump the whole thing in.”

“That’s fine!” Mini Him chirped and then she tugged under her arm and pulled out a cardboard tube. “Look, I even have my own staff!”

“Oh, that’s perfect!” It looked a little wonky, but what did it matter? This kid loved him and loved him enough to make a version of his staff!

And then she asked the question.

“Can I hold your staff?”

Xiatian froze. Both because more kids were running up, calling his name- was that a replica dragon sword- and also…no. Just, no. That would lead to a squished kid and his guilt would not be able to handle that. “I don’t think…” he said, trying to think of the best way to word this refusal as he passed out handfuls to the kids running up. “I don’t…”

“Yeah!”

“Xiaojiao?!” he sputtered at his best friend’s sudden interruption.

“We can make it work!” Xiaojiao said, plucking the candy bowl out of his hands and passing it to Wukong, who beamed and grabbed some candy. “Okay? I have some ideas…”

-_-

“Okay!” Xiaotian called, angling his body to be out of the shot of Xiaojiao and Mini Him’s mom. “Everyone say, here comes Monkie Kid!”

“HERE COMES MONKIE KID!”

The cry repeated several times once kids noticed what was happening. Thankfully, nobody threw a fit at not being able to actually hold the staff. Every time, Xiaojiao asked the parents if she could post the picture on her social media, and almost every parent agreed, claiming that they were also going to post the picture on social media.

Across China and even further out for that night and the next few weeks, several demons tuned into social media and nearly had a mass heart attack.

"Just how many rocks does that damn simian have up on his mountain?" 

"Dear god, it's spreading."

“Nope. Nope. Nope nope nope-”

Nezha snickered at the image on the phone Wukong insisted he get and liked it before sending the link to his father’s phone. He felt a grin form at his father’s horrified scream from across Heaven.

Back to the now, there was a loud cry of “THANKS!” as the kids rushed away.

“You having fun?” Xiaotian asked, looking around and feeling his heart lift at so many cheerful children’s faces.

“Duh,” Xiaojiao said, raising her hand. A boy dressed like her, carrying the third replica dragon sword he had seen tonight, wasted no time in slapping it before rushing up to another mini Xiaotian to grab his hand. “Look at Wukong’s face, he’s so happy.” Xiaotian glanced over and chuckled at the sight of his mentor, throwing handfuls of candy at the kids. His eyes gleamed in a way he had never seen before.

“Of course he is,” a familiar voice said. “My uncle has always had a weakness for the smiles of children.”

“Red Son!” Xiaotian cried, whirling around. Red looked awkward, standing in the middle of the street, but he was also dressed up. It was hard to figure out who he was, but the hair horns were a good giveaway. “I didn’t think you would show up!”

“Ugh, the Dragon Girl threatened me,” the fire demon sighed. “She has way too much-”

“Excuse me?”

They all turned to see a little boy, staring at them like they were the answer to life. He held a basket full of candy and something in the crook of his arm, but his outfit was styled in a familiar way with a red coat and purple pants. He even had his hair arranged to look like flames, much like Red Son’s ponytail.

“Yes?”

“Are you Red Son?” the little boy asked, starting to bounce on his feet. If all the mini hims and little Xiaojiaos hadn’t melted his heart already, Xiaotian was pretty sure his heart was a massive puddle.

“Yes?” the fire demon said, sounding baffled.

“Oh! I dressed up like you!” The boy spun, his coat even doing the dramatic flip like Red Son’s coat did sometimes. “You’re super cool!”

“Of course!” Red said, a grin forming. “Who wouldn't wanna be like me, the great villainous Red So-”

“You’re my favorite hero!”

Red froze. 

Xiaojiao snapped a picture of his frozen expression, chuckling to herself. Xiaotian leaned over. “Can you-?”

“Already sending.”

The fire demon finally unstiffened, staring at the lil him as though he talked in Pig Latin. Xiaotian was honestly prepared for him to burst into flames in rage, like every time he and Xiaojiao claimed he was a hero, but nothing happened. Instead, there was a baffled “Excuse me?”

“You’re my favorite hero!” the child repeated, pulling the thing out of the crook of his arm. “You helped save everyone when your dad was possessed!” Aw, he even had a little bull plush that was dressed up like DBK.

“Yes, uh, but that was my father, I conquered the city before-”

“And you helped save everyone from the Spider Queen!”

“That- my father-”

The kid continued talking, and Red kept stammering, caught off guard by the child’s insistence. It didn’t help that other kids, including ones dressed like him and Xiaojiao, were running up. Wukong walked up and pressed a bowl of candy in Red’s hands, sniggering quietly, and the fire demon began to pass handouts of candy while staring into the void that was this child’s insistence that he was a hero.

“What is going on here?”

At least, until a familiar voice boomed out.

“Father!” Red Son yelped, whirling around and, thankfully, not dropping the bowl of candy. Around them, several parents and adults had stopped. Xiaotian felt his stomach sink at the sight of looks of concern and fear. Fuck, he had no idea why DBK had come- his money was on Wukong inviting him for some reason or him looking for his son- but he couldn’t let him-

A scream splintered the silence. Xiaotian jumped at the noise and held his staff close, looking around as the noise dragged on. It took him a second to realize that there was something off about the scream as several children pushed past him. 

It wasn’t a scream of fear or pain.

It was a scream of absolute delight.

Several little Reds and even hims and Xiaojiaos were hopping around DBK, all looking overjoyed at the sight of the giant bull. Xiaotian felt his eyes go wide as DBK’s face visibly softened, leaning down so he could talk to the children.

“Are you adorable?” he said to the first lil Red, who grinned like all his wishes had come true. “Are you dressed up like my son?”

“Yeah!” The question was only aimed at one child, but ten more voices responded. “He’s my favorite hero!” Lil Red said with a huge beam.

“I’M NOT A HERO!”

Unlike what Xiaotian would think of how DBK would react at the idea of his son being called a hero, the bull demon actually grinned. “Yes, he is. Encourage him, children.”

“FATHER!”

Xiaotian felt a grin form as he sighed in relief, turning to grab another bowl of candy to help pass it out.

The street was getting crowded in a way that felt like a mini-block party. DBK and Red Son were being wonderful to the kids despite the latter's repeated insistence that he wasn't a hero. Xiaotian occasionally had to dip into the shop to help Pigsy with the noodle orders, dodging Pigsy's annoyed yelling as Tang kept swapping his costume out to cash in on half price noodles.

It wasn't until Wukong and Red came in for refills on the candy bowls that a problem presented itself.

"I could've sworn we had more," Xiaotian said, staring at where the candy was. Or, where the candy had been. "Pigsy bought an extra five big bags alongside the candy the mayor provided. We can't have run out that quickly."

"Hey!" Xiaotian poked his head out to see the boar guy from across the street rush over with a frantic look. "Do you guys have an extra candy? I could have sworn I had more, but it's all gone!"

"We're all out too," Xiaotian said, pushing himself out the doorway to look around. "Mabe Mr. Xi has some?" Nope. Five minutes ago, the candy store window had been full of candy, thanks to the elderly man stocking up in mass. Now, he was staring at the store and its empty displays like it was the end of time.

"Excuse me?" A few parents had hurried up. "Did any of our kids accidentally drop some candy here? Their bags are empty," the mom in charge said. "But I've seen you and them pass out candy."

"Plus," a dad spoke up. "They got a lot before we entered this street, so their bags shouldn't be empty like that."

Xiaotian looked out at the entire street. A wave of shock and confusion was rolling through the crowd as more kids looked in their bags and realized that they were suddenly and mysteriously tempting, prompting other kids to check their bags. Angry grumbles and tears were sparking to life, ready to become a blaze of emotion.

"We haven't," Wukong was saying when Xiaotian turned back to the conversation. "We just checked, and all of our candy has disappeared too."

"And I know I grabbed enough for leftovers," Pigsy said, looking both concerned and very annoyed. He glanced at Red Son, who puffed up his chest in annoyance.

"My father and I have better things to do than steal candy from-"

"IT WAS US!"

...of fucking course.

Yin and Jin stood at the end of the street, both dressed like American greasers (at least, if greasers looked like huge nerds). Behind them was a giant canvas bag, easily taller than every building here.

"Monkie Kid! It's your greatest rivals..."

"Yin-"

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" Xiaotian had to interrupt. "This is the rudest thing you guys have ever done!"

"Who cares?!" Jin called. "We have all the candy! We're the winners!"

Fuck, this was ridiculous. And crossed a line. Qi Xiaotian pulled out his staff. “Give that-”

“GIVE THAT BACK!”

The little girl, his first mini-him, glared at Yin and Jin. There was a frightening look in her eyes, and Xiaotian realized, with a bolt of unease, that it was spreading as every kid on the street turned and stared down the demon twins.

Either Yin was incredibly brave or incredibly stupid (Xiaotian was willing to bet the latter), because he leaned forward. “Oh, yeah, lil Monkie Kid? What are you gonna do? Huh? What are you-”

An ax went flying from the crowd, beaning him right in the face and sending Yin stumbling back.

That was enough.

“GET THEM!” Mini Him yelled, hoisting up her staff.

A stampede of children went running at Yin and Jin. Not all of them were dressed like him, Xiaojiao, or Red. It didn’t matter. The sugar-hungry children launched themselves in a wave at the demon twins. Jin froze, gripping a bloody-nosed Yin, and whimpered, “Mommy.”

The twins disappeared under the wave, several staffs and swords and other fake weapons being used for their intended purpose.

Xiaotian stepped forward but froze at a particularly loud scream.

Yeah, he didn’t want to get in the middle of that.

“GO! GO! GO BABY DRAGONS!” Apparently, Xiaojiao didn’t either. Instead, she hovered at the edge of the mosh pit, her phone up and recording. Red cackled next to her, his hair shooting off sparks.

The crowd briefly parted to reveal Jin, covered in bruises and sobbing his eyes out. “Help me!” he called, reaching out for Xiaotian. Before he could consider it, Jin was yanked back into the crowd.

A few children eventually broke away from the crowd to attack the giant bag of candy. Xiaotian did approach at that, helping the kids pull open the bag to reveal the honestly huge amount. “Who wants candy!” he called.

“I do.”

He blinked at the sight of the demon accountant, dressed up in a pink silk jacket. “Uh…” he said, glancing at Yin and Jin, still being whacked with a bunch of plastic and cardboard weapons.

“Don’t even ask,” she said, holding up a bag. “Just please give me some chan pui mui and brown sugar candy. I’m leaving those idiots to their fate.”

Fair enough. Xiaotian dumped a bunch of candy in her bag without question.

The rest of the children eventually got bored of beating up Yin and Jin and wandered over to collect their candy. If their weapons were dented and they had slight traces of blood on them, Xiaotian didn’t say a thing. He simply handed out candy and ignored the sobbing demon twins.

The kids finally left when the clock struck midnight. Mini Him insisted on one last hug from both him and Wukong. Xiaotian accepted it. “You did really good tonight, helping your friends get their candy back,” he said, unsure of what exactly to say. “Keep being brave?” Was that a good thing to say? Yeah.

“Maybe one day you’ll be a hero like Xiaotian!” Wukong said as he hugged her before a yelp came out, loud enough that Xiaotian flinched. Mini Him giggled and pulled back, revealing that a large chunk of golden fur was clenched in her hand. “What was that for?” Monkey King whined, rubbing his tail.

“Shrine!” she chirped before turning and skipping away. Her parents sent apologetic looks before trailing after her.

Xiaotian refused to say a thing, except…

“I think you got tricked back for trying to replace the candy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Wukong sighed, standing up. “Now, who wants to eat all of the leftover candy and watch horror movies?”

“WE DO!”

[just-a-creep-babe]

A Demon’s Ache — Part 6

Eyeless Jack x Reader Smut

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Commissioned by @cookiereblogss thank you so so much for the support, I appreciate it so! Damn much!! 💖💖

I hope everyone's still enjoying the story ^^ I know it might seem like I'm padding stuff out, but I promise there's a reason for it!! Anyways, I'm entirely open to hearing your genuine thoughts about how things are moving forwards, plz don't be shy to lmk! And I hope yall enjoy this part 6!!

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Check out my Patreon if you’d like to support me!

Masterlist: x

He can’t do it

He knows he’s a coward

But he just can’t face you

He can’t confront you, he doesn’t have it in him

Especially not after what he did outside your door

And since then, whenever he’s seen you walk by, whenever your paths have met, he’s had to turn away because of the guilt and shame fluttering in his chest

Even just this morning, when you offered him a smile as you passed him down the hall, he could barely face you

It looked like you wanted to talk to him, but he couldn’t even bring himself to look you in the eyes, much less have a civilized discussion with you

He’s a fucking coward

You probably think he’s upset with you

He doesn’t know what to do with himself, doesn’t know how to deal with the mess he’s created

So, he eventually resorts to the one person that’s offered any kind of help up until this point

He reaches the familiar clearing lined by the rotting wooden fence

And he almost can’t believe his misfortune when he sees that you’re there—flushed, panting and sweaty, chatting with Hoodie and Masky by the edges of the training ground

That’s right, he remembers you’ve been training with Hoodie recently

He tries to force down the jealousy blooming in his chest like familiar heartache

And he almost turns away to avoid you again

But then Hoodie looks up, and a grin appears on his face at the sight of Jack approaching

The proxy looks back down at you, then nudges his head towards the demon

You turn to look at what he’s gesturing towards

And then Jack locks eyes with you

Fuck

He can’t keep running away from you

He takes in a deep breath to steel his nerves, then keeps walking to join up with the three of you

The two proxies nod at him, and you offer him another smile, similar to the one you gave him earlier today

God, that smile

“Came here to train as well?”

Hoodie’s voice snaps him from his daze

That’s right, he should probably stop staring at you

He clears his throat, tries to act natural

“Yeah,” he lies, and then to sound more believable, he adds, “I figured you could use more practice after I won so easily last time”

Hoodie snorts

“Hey, hey, don’t act like I didn’t get a few good ones in on you”

“You? Land some good hits on him?” Masky suddenly interjects with a sarcastic huff, “c’mon, man, your lies are usually more believable than that”

“Watch it, old man, you’re in no condition to start a fight,” Hoodie playfully threatens his partner with a light kick to his leg, which has Masky grunting in pain

And that’s when Jack finally notices the crutches leaning up against the fence next to Masky

“You fucking—“

Masky makes a move to retaliate, but Hoodie jumps back, and the injured proxy can’t go through with his attack

“What happened?” Jack asks, interrupting them with a nod toward the crutches

“Twisted my fucking ankle,” the proxy answers, shooting a death glare through his mask at his partner, “and then I got a nice little ax jammed into my calf. Damaged some nerves or something, I don’t know”

Jack hums

What would otherwise be a grave injury for a normal human was usually just a minor inconvenience for one of Slender’s proxies

The perks of getting your soul snatched up by a devil, Jack supposes

“You sure you don’t want me to take a look at it?” he offers, but Masky just shakes his head

“I’ll be fine, just sitting these sessions out for now”

“He’s using it as an excuse to take a vacation,” Hoodie teases, and he laughs as Masky fails to attack him again

“You son of a goddamn fucking—“

“Alright, alright, children, break it up”

You move between the two proxies, acting as a barrier to get them to stop annoying one another

Jack feels another pang of jealousy, but he manages to mostly just ignore it

You shake your head, grinning as the two men keep flicking and annoying one another over your smaller form

With a chuckle, you sigh

“Anyways, I’ll let you guys do your workout," you nod at Jack and Hoodie, “I gotta go take a shower”

Jack wants to say something as you’re leaving

He wants to apologize, wants to have the courage to just openly talk about what’s going on between the two of you

But it’s like there’s a disconnect between his brain and his mouth, and he suddenly doesn’t know how to speak

He’s going to have to stand there and watch you leave again

You’re a few feet away when you turn to face him, much to his surprise

“Oh, that’s right,” you say, and Jack’s ears perk up attentively, “we’re thinking about having a campfire in the backyard tomorrow. You in?”

“Of course,” he answers immediately

You smile, and the sight has him feeling all warm inside before he’s reminded of the cruel truth

He can’t trick himself again

Can’t trick himself into believing you’re into him the same way he’s into you

“Great, I’ll see you then!”

And with that, you walk off

He watches you leave, hearing the irregular pattern of his heart beating against his ribcage

He’s only snapped out of it by Hoodie yet again, who walks up behind him and offers a few friendly pats on the back

“Ah, young love~” he snickers

There’s a pause, and then Jack groans, smacking his hand to his face

“Is it that obvious?”

“Obvious?” Masky repeats the word, and Jack looks back at the injured proxy, who folds his thick arms over his chest, “Even an eight-year-old dead kid was able to pick up on it. You’re beyond obvious. You’re hopeless”

Jack groans again, and Hoodie’s condescending back pats do little to console him

“Relax,” Hoodie says, and Jack does not, in fact, relax, “She doesn’t have anything against you, y’know. You guys just need to work something out”

Jack tries not to groan again, just because three in a row seem like a bit much, at this point

“That’s the thing,” he starts, “I just—I can’t. I can’t talk to her. It’s like something gets in the way, or,” he shakes away the very recent memory of what he did in front of your door, “it just never works out”

“Listen, you’re making yourself panic. Just don’t overthink it; she’ll hear you out no matter how much you stumble over your words”

“Which you seem to do a lot around her,” Masky snickers, and whatever’s left of Jack’s confidence deflates just a little bit more

Hoodie shoots Masky a look, but all that does is make him laugh again

“Look man, she invited you to the campfire thing, right? Why don’t you try to talk to her before then? And if that doesn’t work, maybe try to find a way to spend time with her tomorrow morning or something”

Hoodie’s words do little to encourage him

Masky must notice, because he eventually adds, “I say there’s no point in waiting that long. You have something to tell her? Do it now—waiting around will just stress you out even more. You’re not doing yourself any favors by building it up in your head”

There’s a pause as Jack considers his insight

“…Ok. Alright. You’re right, I have to do this”

The demon nods to himself

He’ll just have to bite the proverbial bullet; things won’t get any less awkward between the both of you if he doesn’t do anything about it

And, really, what’s the point of waiting?

“There we go, that’s the attitude,” Hoodie gives him a few more pats on the back, “you got this, man”

When he reaches your room this time, it’s open

He knocks on the open door, calls out your name, but there’s no response

He tried giving you plenty of time to shower and come back, but maybe he’d been too eager and hadn’t waited long enough

The rational thing to do is leave and come back later

But, for some reason, he doesn’t

It’s like he’s pulled into your room, like he can’t stop his instincts from tugging him forwards—a puppet on the strings of his desire

The faint smell of your arousal lingers in the air

He breathes it in, and his abdomen immediately clenches in response

He’s being inappropriate again, he knows it

He shouldn’t be doing this

But fuck, you smell so fucking delicious

He swallows thickly

His thoughts are teetering between wanting to stay and knowing he should leave—especially before you walk in on him

And then his sight lands on a pair of lacy underwear that you left at the foot of your bed

He freezes

He shouldn’t

Christ, he really, really shouldn’t

But he notices the wet patch you’ve left on them, and it’s like he can’t help himself

He pockets them and walks out

There’s a sick sense of guilt clinging to him as he reaches his room

You’d almost think he’d be used to that feeling by now, after all the inappropriate things he’s done

But this feels like he’s just crossed yet another line

Either way, that guilt isn’t strong enough to get him to return the panties to your room

It’s not strong enough to stop him from pulling them out of his pockets and running his fingers over the wet spot at the center

And it’s most certainly not strong enough to stop him from balling them up to his face and inhaling deeply

As soon as he does, he’s done for

His lust overrides any remaining rational thought

Your scent drives him feral

He groans, already drunk off the thought of you

Another deep breath, and he’s practically drooling

It’s no use trying to hold himself back, he’s already a goner

Getting on his bed, he quickly undoes his pants, letting his hard-on spring free, and with his dominant hand, he strokes his erection from the very base all the way to the tip

He grunts, trying to imagine it was you wrapped up around him instead of just his hand

He presses your panties closer to his face, bunching them up, teasing the wet spot at his lips so that he can just barely taste the remnants of your arousal

Friends

Would you still hold that sentiment knowing all the filthy things he does while thinking of you?

He sighs, the sound low and gravelly from somewhere deep within his chest

God, you’re fucking perfect

Everything about you makes him insatiable—it’s like you were made for him, made to torture him with his need

He grinds his hips up into his palm, feeling his cock twitch and throb in response

He imagines you clenching around him, making all those pretty sounds he’s heard you make recently

He breathes in again, another lungful of your scent, and it’s almost too much

He squeezes the tip of his length, and your name escapes him in a husky sigh

His hips wriggle up, pushing more of his length into his hand, and he imagines you on top of him, naked, your back arching as he fills your pretty little cunt up with the entirety of his length

He chokes out another groan, feeling his hips stutter impatiently

When he inhales, more of your scent floods his senses, and that insatiable hunger coils in his stomach until all of his muscles are tensing involuntarily

He’s burning for your touch

He snaps his hips forward, aching cock twitching in his hold, releasing a few more beads of precum at his slit

His tongue traces over the lace of your panties, and when your taste fills his mouth, he groans eagerly

“F-fuck—(y/n)~”

He sounds just about as desperate as he feels

He pumps his length in and out, in and out of his clenched fist until his shaft is slick with precum

He imagines you lapping at his stiff cock, he imagines bending you over and screwing you senseless

The fantasies he’s had countless times before replay in his mind as he uses your panties to help him get off

Knowing your bare cunt was rubbing against the lace not too long ago turns him on more than any kind of porn ever could

It doesn’t even come close

He curses, groaning, his movements growing increasingly rushed and frantic

His mind and body alike are consumed by his desperation

His fingers dig into the delicate material, and if he had any more control over himself, he’d be worried about tearing them

But he’s too far gone to care, too engrossed in the way the pretty lace feels pressing against his face to care about being gentle

When he licks at the wet spot again, he can almost imagine his tongue was buried inside your walls instead

He ruts into his clenched fist, the prominent vein curling along his shaft throbbing with equal impatience

He’s a snarling, groaning mess, jerking himself off like a depraved fucking teenager

He huffs at your panties, breathing you in, letting your scent and taste and even just the thought of you overwhelm him until he snaps

He pushes his hips forwards, his cock twitching and throbbing as he finally cums

His seed dribbles down his shaft, pooling in a mess at his pelvis, but he’s too euphoric to care

He gives a few more languid thrusts into his hand, riding out the high, before eventually stilling

He’s panting, chest heaving, your lace panties still bundled up at his face for him to savor

But it’s just not enough

It’s not the real thing

He won’t be satisfied until he gets you

There’s a brief pause as he lets the endorphins wash over him

And then, as he’s staring up at the ceiling, basking in the aftermath of his high, he thinks, fuck

He really just stole your panties to get himself off

He’s a fucking perv

Swallowing thickly, he tries not to think about your reaction if you ever found out

Instead, he wipes up his mess, going through the leftover box of tissues he keeps by his bedside for times like these

He should probably return your underwear, he realizes

But by this point, you’ve probably finished your shower, and you’re probably back in your room already

He’ll have to return them before tomorrow night, just so that he won’t feel so guilty seeing you at the campfire and knowing he still has them

He sighs to himself

Why does he have to make things so complicated?

Why can’t he just control himself around you?

After obsessing over you for as long as Jack has, the demon has become somewhat familiar with your routine

He knows when you’re least likely to be in your room

Which means he knows the perfect time to sneak in without you seeing him do so

So in the early afternoon the following day, he finds himself back inside your place with relative ease

Surrounded by your things, your various trinkets, clothing and furniture, it has a certain kind of warmth blooming in his chest

Everything in your room is so distinctly you

Not only does your scent mark it as your territory, but the way you’ve set things up, the way you’ve decorated—it’s all so obviously your space

It brings a smile to his lips

He can’t help it; he’s utterly head-over-heels for you

He should just drop off your panties and leave as soon as he can to avoid getting caught

But again, it’s like he’s only pulled deeper into your room

Like he's coaxed into invading your space because he’s too love-drunk and obsessed to stop himself

He notices some of the framed pictures you have scattered around, and he finds himself looking at each and every single one

Some of them are with you and different creeps from the mansion, posing or hanging out at various events

Others have people he doesn’t recognize in them, and he realizes he doesn’t know much about your life before you joined the mansion

He hums, taking one of the framed photos to trace over the outline of your face

You’re grinning at the camera next to someone he doesn’t recognize, your arm thrown over their shoulder

Both of you look like you’re mid-laugh

Your smile’s utterly contagious

His heart swells in his chest

It’s only dampened by the reminder that you don’t feel the same

He sets the picture back down, trying to ignore the bitter sting of unrequited love

Focus, he tells himself

He has to find somewhere to leave your underwear that won’t be obvious they were ever taken in the first place

Next to your door, he spots a hamper for dirty laundry

Bingo

He peeks inside, which in hindsight, he really shouldn’t have

He should’ve just dropped the panties inside, then left without looking back

Because there, amongst various t-shirts and jeans, he sees them—those fucking shorts

The shorts you were wearing when he ate you out, when he fingered you at the kitchen table

He swallows thickly

Twice now

Twice he’s had a sexual encounter with you, and both of those times, you were wearing these shorts

The shorts that hug your ass so perfectly, that show off just the right amount of thigh

He wonders if they still carry your scent

He can only imagine they do

Tentative hands reach out to them

He feels the fabric against his fingertips, and he’s reminded of the way your skin had felt against his knuckles when he’d stroked over your leg

He can’t do it, he realizes, he can’t return your underwear

It’s all he has of you

It’s all he can use when he’s aching for you

Would taking the shorts be too far?

In a split-second decision, instead of taking your shorts, he takes another pair of panties that’d been tossed into the hamper

Just like the first pair, he stuffs these in his pockets, then quickly walks out of your room

He’ll return them, he thinks, he’ll definitely return them eventually

He’s just not ready to return them just yet

Thankfully, no one catches him leaving your room

And he’s so, so close to reaching the sanctuary of his own room when, much to his mortification, he hears you calling out to him

He freezes in his tracks, his hand just barely hovering over his doorknob

“Oh, hey Jack, I was looking for you!”

He can barely look you in the eyes as he turns to face you when you approach him, but hopefully, you don’t notice anything suspicious through the cover of his mask

“About the campfire I mentioned—“ you pause, looking at him

It’s like the underwear are burning in his pockets

“Yeah?” he asks, trying not to flinch at how the guilt so obviously seeps through his voice

“I know I said it was supposed to be tonight, but we’re pushing it to tomorrow because it’s raining”

When he doesn’t say anything, because he just doesn’t know what to say, you hesitate

“…Is that alright? Do you still think you’ll join?”

He nods

He feels like a deer in headlights

“A-alright, well… I guess I’ll see you then”

He nods again

You seem to hesitate again, like there’s more you want to tell him

But then you turn and leave

And as soon as you do, he opens the door and quickly closes it shut behind him

He was supposed to return your panties

Not steal another pair

He’s only gone and made things worse yet again

What the fuck is wrong with him?

[unistaryo]

A Thousand Souls [Rohan Kishibe x Reader (Oneshot)]

Summary: A mysterious journey to a forgotten place deepens the connection between you and Rohan.

//N/A:

This was inspired by a place near my home, I hope you'll enjoy the fic!!!💖

You did this because you needed a vacation. 

 That’s what you told yourself, at least. It was a good excuse to come with Rohan here, in this place forgotten by the humanity that created it. It looked abandoned, something the gods had forgotten about, letting the unspoken lives they left behind take over. It doesn’t appear on any map, not even old ones. How did Rohan even know how to get here in the first place? That’s a question he refused to answer, yet he was the one who asked you to come with him.

 “So, you’re not doing to tell me how you even know about this forsaken place’s existence?” you looked around, you were currently walking down a dusty road, filled with holes, wide enough for someone to fall and break something if they weren’t paying attention.

 “I found it during my research for my new one-shot” he finally responded observing intently the building you two crossed. “The one about ghouls…. I will let you read it later, promise.”

 “And it took you to Romania from all places? Wasn’t this supposed to be Dracula’s home?” the mangaka turned to you, looking rather pissed but still holding a calmness that characterized your conversations.

 “It is also the birthplace and inspiration for Constantin Brâncuși” You two turned left and started walking towards a wall of trees that didn’t let any clue of what was behind them to be seen. “He was a great artist, and I can see why. Even if this place is far from his hometown I find as beautiful” he then stayed silent for a moment, uttering something that you couldn’t quite comprehend, but it sounded like “but not like you”. No, it must be your mind hallucinating, the Rohan Kishibe would never take a romantic interest in you, you were too plain. Right?

 But still, he was always more interested in what you had to say than he was with other people. He invited you the most to spend time with him, even saying that he loved your presence once, and calling you his muse in front of Koichi. Maybe your thoughts could be wrong for once after all.

 Before you knew it, you two stopped on a metal bridge. It looked like it could fall any second, but this doesn’t seem to disturb Rohan. The man seemed happy, almost excited that you arrived there, switching his gaze between the lake that was moving beneath you and the sky that got darker by second. Just what did he have planned?

 “There are a thousand souls beneath us.” 

 It seemed like a casual thing coming from Rohan, something he said to break the silence for the moment. Except he was right. Just as the moon began to shine, a multitude of eyes appeared in the water and, even if their mouths were hidden, little screams echoed from below. It was astonishing, breathtaking, you felt like your soul left your body for a moment, descending into the astral before facing the river, ready to be lost in it like the rest. 

 “Come back! Earth to (Y/N)!” Rohan screamed, holding you in his arms, his tone seemed scared yet determined. His hand gently took your chin, forcing you to look at him. “You see, this place is cursed, admire what you want, when you want” but don’t let yourself be taken away.  Otherwise, I might have to make you admire only me. Though I don’t mind, I would rather we admire this together. “ 

 You began to feel yourself heat up, he was so close, and his hand moved to the back of your head. Rohan cleared his throat, before muttering something to you. “Plus, we aren’t lost souls,” his face was getting close to you, “we have eachother.” 

 With that, soft lips landed on yours, sealing something a million words can’t.

[bvidzsoo]

Summer Lovin'

ᘓBoyfriend!Wooyoungᘓ

TW: nothing

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: Another drabble while I'm on vacay because I'm literally dying if I don't write something and this is the best I can do while here (bruh imma eat up my long oneshots once I get home). This drabble...hurt me because I'm too single for this shit. Okay, bye, enjoy!

               You really needed this. This vacation. It finally felt like all of your hard work had been paid off as you swum around in the sea’s crystal-clear salty water, submerging underneath the warm waves as your hot body finally cooled off. The sun was rather harsh today, beaming down on the beach, scaring off people underneath their sun-umbrellas, unless they wished to look like a hot dog by the end of the day. This vacation has been long awaited by you and your friends, having thoroughly planned for it for months and months. Firstly, you had to decide on which country to visit, and to your luck your boyfriend was adamant on visiting Greece, secretly having your back as you really wanted to go there. Secondly, you had to find a house for five people in a village by the sea and thirdly, the most difficult one, was to preserve your money for the trip. You knew yourself; you’d spend almost all of your money on souvenirs like there was no tomorrow, having zero self-control when it came to gifts for your family, and of course, yourself. You just couldn’t help it, there was a certain charm to them, one which you wouldn’t find at home. As you emerged from underneath the water, having almost ran out of air, you heard your boyfriend’s loud laughter in the distance, probably fooling around with his best friends. It were the two of you, your own best friend, and his two other close friends. At first, you planned on taking your time and resting as much as you could, to sleep off the long road trip, however, your boyfriend found himself quite energetic the second day after your arrival and decided he wanted to go sightseeing. You weren’t too happy about it at the beginning, having been one of the drivers, but you couldn’t help it when he started whining and acting cute, trying to convince you to join him and Yunho. San and your best friend decided on staying back at the beach house, promising to cook something delicious for the five of you by the time you returned. You really wanted to sleep all day, but at last, you gave in to Wooyoung, giggling loudly as he suddenly jumped on top of you, peppering your face with kisses, making you whine as he got his saliva all over your face, on purpose. You chuckled at the memory as you turned around and floated on your back, unmoving, the salty water keeping you on the surface, floating around peacefully. Your peace didn’t last for long, however, as suddenly you heard loud and violent splashing around you, before suddenly you felt strong hands gripping your middle, pulling you underneath. You were lucky enough to take in a deep breath of air, knowing very well it was your mischievous boyfriend trying to piss you off, as the two of you quickly came to the surface, brushing your long, black hair out of your face. Wooyoung was already cackling like an evil witch, squinting his eyes as the salt pinched them, making you grin at him in amusement. Serves him right for not leaving you alone.

“You just couldn’t leave me alone, could you?” You teased, making Wooyoung raise his eyebrows as he swum towards you, only his eyes out of the water as he acted as if he were a shark. It made you laugh, even more, when he tried pinching your skin under water, acting as if he were about to eat you. You slapped his hands away and started splashing water at him, making him turn around quickly, shielding his eyes as he barely got the salty water out of them a few seconds ago.

“Stop!” He shrieked, making you splash water at him even more, laughing as he started running away aimlessly, almost crashing into a kid. You apologized to the little guy while laughing, running after Wooyoung, terrorizing him. It’s not like he didn’t terrorize you, it was usually him disturbing your peace of mind, but that wasn’t so surprising. He could be quite hyper and a dumbass at times, never failing to either make you laugh until your tummy hurt so much you could barely speak or either he pissed you off so hard that you didn’t speak to him for half an hour. You could keep your anger for longer, but Wooyoung would start peppering your face with kisses until you gave in with a roll of your eyes, pushing his head away and telling him that, ‘fine, you weren’t mad anymore’, making Wooyoung giggle to himself as he carried on with his previous activity.

“Seriously, stop that Y/N!” Wooyoung was screaming now, trying to fight back and splash you too, but failing as you were right behind him, basically water bombing him. You heard the laughter of your friends from the shore too, and when you looked back, Yunho was filming the two of you, your best friend, Arin, getting up from her spot as she took off her shorts.

“You disturbed my peace, now you pay!” You shouted at your boyfriend as you didn’t relent on your attack, his whining turning into fake crying, not affecting you at all as you were used to his shenanigans.

“Christ,” You heard your best friend’s voice behind you as she swum towards the two of you, “People would think a whale was dying by the sounds Wooyoung is making.”

You started cackling at the words of your best friend, your attention diverted from your boyfriend, finally letting him catch a breath as you playfully splashed some water at Arin. She gave you quite the convincing glare asking you to stop and you smiled sheepishly as Wooyoung finally shut up, coughing here and there, making you roll your eyes at his dramatic theatrics.

“Who convinced me of coming on vacation with two literal children definitely does not love me—”

“Hey!” You scoffed, successfully splashing Arin fully in the face, “You should thank me you’re here, you brat, stop complaining.”

“Thank God Yunho and San are here, or else I would literally go nuts after spending two weeks with just the two of you.” Wooyoung tsked as he joined you, giving your best friend a side eye, making Arin stick her tongue out at him before she submerged and swum away not too far, enjoying herself in the water.

“We’re not even that bad…” Wooyoung muttered to himself as you looked at him with a smile, finding his wet hair framing his face quite attractive. He let it grow out recently, at your request, and you couldn’t stop looking at him right now, taken by his beauty. You wondered, sometimes, how he got blessed with such good genes, his jawline sharper than your knives and his eyes brighter than your future. Cheesy, you knew.

“I know I’m pretty, beautiful, I’ll make sure to take a selfie for you once we get out—”

“Don’t you dare.” You gave him a pointed look, your gallery being already full of his selfies. He’d randomly steal your phone and spam your gallery with silly selfies, sometimes even setting them as your background, making you lose your mind when you’d notice. He was a menace to society, and your own personal clown. As you sighed at your boyfriend, he narrowed his eyes at you and before you could react, jumped towards you, squeezing your bodies together. You huffed at the sudden impact and allowed his arms to circle around your shoulders, your own holding his torso. Of course, you knew what was coming, the first kiss he pressed against your skin was on your left cheek, then on your jaw, the corner of your mouth, your nose, your brows, finally your forehead and just as you were about to sigh, his lips captured yours, warm and familiar. He tasted like salt from the water and as your lips meshed together, you couldn’t help but smile, oh so happy to be here with him, and your friends, of course. Wooyoung couldn’t help it but smile as well as you pulled away, cupping his cheek for a second before you pressed a soft kiss against the mole underneath his eye, making his cheeks flush red. No matter how many times you’d kiss his mole, he’d still blush, finding it endearing and so soft, loving. You loved that mole a lot, it complimented his handsome face well.

“Look at you blush.” You teased against his lips, grinning from ear to ear, making Wooyoung scoff as he lightly pinched your skin.

“I’m not blushing!” He quickly defended himself, “It’s the sun, beautiful, it’s reddening my cheeks.”

You hummed playfully, pressing a kiss against his lips, “Mhm, sure, love, whatever keeps your masculinity safe—”

“Hey!” Wooyoung narrowed his eyes at you, lightly pushing you back. You chuckled and the two of you kissed again as you heard people approaching, definitely being your friends. You ruffled Wooyoung’s black hair as you pulled away and lowered yourself back into the water, watching Yunho and San as they raced towards the two of you, making Wooyoung laugh as he waved his hand at them. The two got to you at the same time, making San pout as he wanted to win, making you chuckle as you waved Arin over too, noticing the small ball Yunho was holding.

“We had to interrupt before you two lovebirds got too carried away.” Yunho said playfully, making you roll your eyes at him as Arin came to a stop between Yunho and San, grinning at Wooyoung as he tried splashing her. It didn’t last for long as Arin instantly reacted and kicked him underneath the water, making Wooyoung groan and hold onto you, his legs around your waist, pulling you slightly underneath, making you groan too. San chuckled and took the ball from Yunho, throwing it at Arin, interrupting the glaring match her and Wooyoung seemed to have started.

“Guys, let’s play!” San said with excitement, waving his arms in the air, motioning for Arin to throw it back at him. Wooyoung swiftly kissed your cheek before he finally released you and took his spot between you and Arin, being an asshole as he tried taking the ball from your best friend before she could throw it. Arin exclaimed in irritation and told him to stop, throwing the ball at Yunho, who caught it with ease and then aimed the ball at you, making you nod as you waited for him to throw it over.

            After playing for at least half an hour, you and Arin decided to get out of the water and dry up a bit before re-applying your SPF lotion, trying not to look like a crab by tonight, if possible. The boys decided to go dive for a bit before they would join you on the beach, so Arin and you set up your towels and laid them out on the sand, resting on them. You would lay on your back for fifteen minutes before you’d lay on your bellies for another fifteen minutes, drying but also tanning, careful not to get a heatstroke in the process as you placed your white hats over your heads. Arin and you giggled as you playfully teased each other, telling stories you had to catch up on yet, her giggling about San’s cute attempts at trying to spend more time with her lately. He was a sweet guy and since he was Wooyoung’s best friend you spent a lot of time together, genuinely liking his character and his attentive care for others. There were few people like San nowadays, and if your best friend was into him, you would only encourage it.

Your head rested against your forearms as you could feel the blazing hot sun against your skin, turning it red slowly, signaling that it was time you retreated into the shadows, where it was safe and a cool can of beer was waiting for you. Arin was giggling about something as she was reading on her phone and as you were about to ask her to tell you too about it, loud manly voices started approaching the two of you, San and Wooyoung arguing about something childish as Yunho kept laughing harder and harder, interrupting your tranquility.

“Why are you two arguing again?” Arin asked exasperated, sighing as she put her phone away.

“San says what we saw was a crab, and Wooyoung says that what we saw was a seahorse—”

“Wooyoung knows what a seahorse looks like?” Arin’s comment made you laugh hard as you pressed your forehead against your arm, your whole-body rocking with how hard you were laughing. Wooyoung didn’t appreciate the comment nor your reaction as he glared at the back of your head, however, you remained completely oblivious to it as you continued laying on your stomach, fifteen minutes having not been up yet.

“I do!” Your boyfriend fired back at Arin, crossing his arms in front of his chest like a little boy, “And those were seahorses, not crabs—”

“Woo, they were red!” San sounded tired as he interrupted his friend, making Yunho shake his head as he sat down on his towel, letting the sun dry his skin up as well.

“I think what we saw were just big rocks, guys, they weren’t even red so I don’t understand why you’re arguing still.” Yunho’s determined voice made the other two finally shut up and you giggled amused, lightly kicking the sand off your feet. However, since Wooyoung was around again, your peace wouldn’t last for any longer. You felt a few cold droplets of water on your back before a heavy body was pressing against yours, cold and wet, making you cry out. Wooyoung lay on top of you, nuzzling his head in the crock of your neck, making you whine as your body was overheated by the sun and his cold skin pressing against yours made you shiver. It felt actually nice, but you didn’t appreciate your own boyfriend crushing you.

“You’re heavy!” You whined, shaking your bottom, trying to get him off, but it made Wooyoung soften his body more, keeping you pinned down.

“Am not.” He muttered and lightly bit your shoulder, making you hiss at him as you tried nudging him with your elbow.

“Get off.” You muttered but Wooyoung just chuckled and whispered ‘no’, sighing into your nape.

“You’re warm and comfy, I’m not getting off, besides, I’m also drying.” Came his lame excuse.

“Yeah, you’re drying while crushing me, Wooyoung, despite your beliefs you’re not made of feather, love.” Wooyoung just rolled his eyes and you felt him shifting, his body finally lifting off of you. Your lungs weren’t getting crushed anymore, you could finally breathe normally. You mouthed a ‘thank you’ as you sat up, dusting off the sand from your legs as you could see Wooyoung fiddling with your bag, reaching for your phone. He gave you a quick glance as he unlocked it, catching your glare, but acted as if he saw nothing as he took up his signature pose, puckering his lips at the camera, almost giggling when he heard your loud groan. Yunho chuckled amusedly as he intruded in on the pictures, posing with Wooyoung, making you shake your head as you had expected more from him.

“Are you hungry?” San asked the group, rubbing his tummy lightly. Arin and you nodded as Yunho held up a thumb, Wooyoung too busy taking selfies with your phone.

“Let’s go eat!” Your boyfriend exclaimed, finally putting your phone away, grinning as he quickly stood, pulling Yunho’s arm to get him to stand as well. As you and Wooyoung made eye contact, he sent you a flying kiss, winking at you cheekily, making you chuckle. Seriously, he could be such a man-child sometimes.

Masterlist (divider)

[s1ater]

hell v heaven.

pairings. harry bingham x fem!reader

about. reader gets scolded by her friend only for harry to defend her

warnings. swearing

from ricky's mailbox to yours. I don't expect anything from this, I just wanted to post because I miss this damn show

west ham was always ordinarily boring and filled to the brim with people who had their pockets filled with more than enough money to know what to do with.

your life was a repetitive process and ran on a schedule that really never changed unless you chose to eat breakfast for once in your life, which you never really did--or take your mom up on the offer to go on walks—which you also really never did.

the day you got off that bus and found no parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, or even siblings was a day you couldn’t help but sigh in relief with finding a loss of obligations and responsibilities. you felt a lift from your shoulders and a greatness fill your chest as you finally let go and fell from your schedule.

but it wasn’t funny and you were no longer having any fun the moment you discovered your situation was permanent and a forest had overgrown all roads and tracks out of this new found nightmare of yours.

“you think god's trying to teach us a lesson?” you looked up from your book seeing your friend maddie who had her lips pressed into a thin line, still trying to figure out this whole predicament.

even as this was a nightmare and you weren’t used to change, you found yourself leaning away from getting caught up in caring so much or getting too emotional about it. you figured you could be in worse situations and at least you were still alive.

“i don’t think it’s that deep,” you mumbled carelessly, flipping the page to your book, not sparing another glance to her till she stands up with a huff and grumble, clenching and unclenching her fists while exiting harry’s living room.

but then she felt herself flipping around, facing you and your slightly confused expression, “what’s your problem?”

you frowned a little deeper as she stood before you with her poised posture, seeming more angered than you had ever seen her, “what?-” you shared a look with harry who seemed just as lost as you did before she cut you off.

“because ever since we discovered we’re trapped here it seems like you couldn’t give a damn and it’s really pissing me off,” she exhaled roughly with her chest puffing in and out with air, like she had been waiting a long time to say this. “you’re not here for anyone and i haven’t heard you cry once either, y/n.”

“you want me.. you want me to cry?” you raised an eyebrow, slightly taken aback.

“yes, y/n, because i’m really close to thinking you’re a sociopath-”

“woah, woah, woah, maddie” harry shook his head with his lips deeply curved downwards, “shut up.”

“don’t tell me to ‘shut up’ harry.”

“don’t be a cunt, maddie,” he scoffs, looking at her as if she were a fool. his stare is harsh and she even slowly begins to feel like one with how hard and taunting his eyes are.

if harry had a skill in something, it'd be his way of looking down on people and making them feel his disgust and repulsion toward them. harry had to be one of the most arrogant people you had met, but at least his arrogance came in handy in situations where you needed defense.

"whatever, harry," she rolls her eyes at him, trying to push off the sickening feeling he pushed on to her. "you two deserve each other, especially if you're both enjoying this little vacation we were gifted."

harry sits in the grey chair maddie previously sat in, "you okay?"

"yeah, I'm good."

“you sure?”

you look up to him, finally meeting his dialed in expression that was genuine and curious to your well being.

strange.

it was things like this that gave you somewhat joy that you no longer had a schedule, that kept you from hating your new reality.

west ham turning upside down revealed a lot about your fellow classmates and even best friend’s character, as seen seconds ago. you couldn’t decipher whether or not you found joy in the fact of that, but right now, with harry sitting across from you and close to reach out to you, was something you knew you enjoyed.

before, in your tight knit schedule, harry didn’t fit in it. he was only a family friend you saw at birthdays and conjoined vacations since the beginning of your memory, but nothing more.

“yeah, i’m sure,” you pressed your lips into a thin line.

“i don’t think she understands people handle grief differently,” he looks sympathetic but drops any attempt to move closer with a reach of comfort upon realization that you were really fine.

“you think i’m in grief?”

he pauses, doesn’t look at you for a minute with silence as he narrows his eyebrows before looking up to meet your eyes, “i mean, aren’t we all?”

aren’t we all?

jesus, maybe you were a sociopath.

“i-uh-“

“y/n,” he stops you, shaking his hand. “when-when my father died, i didn’t think it was real. all these people came up to me, your parents, all would walk up, apologize, offer their condolences, but i never really understood. what was the big deal?—just a death, right?”

he offers an awkward smile with a glance through his eyelashes, before looking back to his carpet, “thing was, i didn’t realize that that death, was my fathers death—i mean i did, my body didn’t. i was in denial.”

silence. you both think about his words.

the way he spoke was really smart--it surprised you that it was him that they were coming from. not only did you start to enjoy his company, but his words...

“i shouldn’t have-“

“no,” you cut him from his potential regret in sharing. you knew that took a lot from him. “maybe you're right… or maybe maddie is. maybe i really am a sociopath.”

"y/n, that's an insane thing to say," he shakes his head, still looking down, but now at his hands as he begins to rub them together. "everyone handles grief differently," he repeats, "especially something like this; especially something that feels nowhere near real."

you stare at harry, blinking, while he stares back at you with a thin-lipped smile. you felt your chest tighten to an extreme as you continued to watch, thinking about his words that tumble around in your head. you somehow couldn't grasp it; the reassurance. but rather... you were more hung up on the matter that it was him saying such kind words to you.

everyone knew harry was the biggest asshole in west ham and he had no shame in it. everyone would call you a liar is you ever exposed the conversation; harry didn't have a nice bone in his body, so how was it that he had just created one of the nicest convos you had ever had with anyone?

your chest pulls into a ball even more. you feel like you can't breathe.

what was happening to you?

you hadn't felt a pang of sadness till now.

"you okay?"

you hate that question.

"yeah, i'm okay."

"you sure?" he's leaning towards you, his eyes prying.

you feel the pressure intensify, but this time around your eyes as if something had the need to be forced out.

fuck, not now.

"y/n, woah," he's quick to come closer to you, now kneeling before you with his hands on your face.

“i shouldn’t be crying-“

he shushes you as he tries his best to clear your face from the salty tears that begin to run down your cheeks like a hill. he smiles lightly to your embarrassment while shaking his head, “crying is fine.”

“i feel bad.”

“for what?”

“harry, i don’t even feel bad about them being gone,” you sniff, wiping your face from the wetness quickly. “i feel bad about you and your father and everything.”

“oh?” he seems caught off guard about this, taking a step back from your distraught stare. “why?”

you stare over at him with wide doe eyes, something that looks like fear for the matter of having to provide an explanation. you glance to the side, also leaning away from him, bracing yourself to answer. you feel even more choked up, like your throat had been clogged and stuffed with toilet paper--or whatever it was to help you not speak.

"my parents-" you sniff, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. "god, I hated my parents--so I'm not sorry that I'm not sad about something that is ultimately a blessing... but I am sorry that this has happened to you... all of you."

he stares. he feels as if he's about to explode.

"I'm sorry, harry--that you had to lose your father and your mother as fast as you did," you shake your head, "I'm sorry that you think that that's how I feel about my own parents."

why does he feel like this?

his hand is mid air, reaching to clasp his chest as if consoling his heart, but it doesn't goes as far to make contact.

he feels strange. he doesn't know how to cope with someone he has known for so long revealing what must have been the biggest burden on their shoulders, hidden in plain sight from him, as well as gushing about sympathy for him--he hates that.

as for the other thing; harry had known you since the beginning of time, he knew your parents since the beginning of time. you were both absorbed within the same lifestyle but the two of you were never anything more than acquaintances.

he found it strange that he could see your life so clearly like it was his own, but it seemed that was only the surface of a glass window that only you and your family allowed people to see.

"y/n, you're not a sociopath," he finally says, "sociopaths don't feel sympathy for other people. you're just in a difficult situation that no kid will understand because their parents are their heroes."

he pinches the bridge of his nose, finally looking up to you, "you also shouldn't feel bad for me."

you looked at him confused, urging him to explain.

"none of us are saints, y/n. somehow i think we all deserve this," he runs a hand down the front of his face. "you... you're just somehow better than the rest of us, this is a vacation god has granted you."

you stifle a laugh, shaking your head.

he smiles in return before dropping his face into a softer expression, reaching for your hand, "you good?"

"yeah, i'm good," you nod.

"good," he squeezes your hand. "enjoy heaven while you have it."

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Forced Love II

John Wick x Reader

Summary: Arranged marriages aren't uncommon in the crime world but John Wick never expected to be forced into one with is boss' daughter.

Chapter Summary: The newlyweds get to know each other on their honeymoon.

Warning: Minimal use of Y/N, canon level violence, alcohol, sparring, jealous!john, misogyny, smut, embarrassment, mention of virginity, french people, privilege

Word count: 6.4k

Masterlist

A few days later the newlyweds found themselves in Saint-Tropez for their honeymoon. “You’re on your honeymoon, not working. You should relax and enjoy your vacation,” Y/N told her husband, lounging on a beach chair. “They’ve got it,” she assured, sending glances to the armed guards that scattered the private villa. Despite her protests, both Viggo and John wanted her to be guarded on their honeymoon.

John smiled, “Respectfully, they’re here because I’m supposedly relaxing.”

“So you’re saying that if only you were looking out for me, it’d be the same as the ten of them currently guarding us?” she challenged.

He shrugged, not wanting to come off as too arrogant. “More or less, yeah.”

“Hmm,” she nodded, considering his words. “And what if I said I could handle myself and didn’t need you or anyone else to protect me?”

He couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at that. “No offense, but I watched you struggle with your carry on. You’re gonna need my protection.”

Fortunately she found his honesty funny. “Fair enough,” she chuckled. “Although, not totally my fault. My father refused to let me be trained. No strength training, no combat training, certainly no weapons training.”

John stared at her in bewilderment. “How does he expect you to run things one day if you can’t even shoot? Much less fight?”

That elicited a genuine laugh from her. “You think my father will let me run his empire? He always says ‘Fighting is not a woman’s place.’ He sure as hell won’t put me in charge. I mean, he’s happy to let me be the face of our family when he needs me to but it’s all going to go to my idiot of a brother. Iosef doesn’t know he’ll inherit it yet though. I think my father is using me to try to scare him into getting his shit together.”

“Still, you live in a dangerous world. You should know how to at least defend yourself.”

A smile crept onto her face as she sat up, swinging her legs off of the chair so now she could fully face the assassin. “So teach me,” she challenged. He sat up in return, a little surprised by her boldness. He had to admit, he had always thought of Viggo’s daughter as just a pretty face to do her father’s bidding. This determination to be independent was surprising. “Teach me how to fight. Or at the very least self-defense.”

“Okay,” John nodded. Finally, a vacation he could get behind. He stood up, taking her hand and leading her further onto the soft sand, away from the chairs. “Okay, first thing’s first. If you can run or hide, that’s always going to be your best bet. Chances are, anyone coming after you is going to be a lot bigger, stronger, and better trained.” She gave him an unimpressed look, having been lectured her entire life to run and hide. “Uh, but on to the real things: punches. So stance wide,” he acted as he spoke, showing her what he meant, “arms up. Make sure you don’t tuck your thumbs into your fist, that’s how you break your thumbs.” She nodded, copying his movements. “Now, you’re going to want to pivot on the ball of your back foot, angling your body towards your opponent as you throw the punch. That’ll give you some power.” She tried to follow his directions but it looked honestly pathetic. The fact that she was only wearing a bikini didn’t help that fact either. He couldn’t help but let out a light chuckle at her attempt. “Here, I’ll show you.”

He stepped around her, going behind her. “Get back into your original stance,” he directed. She complied as John stepped closer, his skin brushing against hers as he pressed his chest to her back, slotting their bodies together. He put his foot against her rear foot, his hands clasping her fists. “Okay,” he began, his lips pressed against her ear, eliciting a shiver down his spine. John held in his groan as her ass moved against his crotch, he just prayed he didn’t get hard as he stood so close to her. “Pick up the heel of your rear foot, standing on the ball of your foot.” She complied as John used his own foot to rotate hers, simultaneously moving her arm forward and forcing her body to rotate. Again she rubbed against him, making him realize he’d have to come up with a better way to teach her because he couldn’t be this distracted. “Uh that was good,” he said in a flustered voice, pulling away from her. “You think you got it?”

“Yeah,” she agreed in an equally flustered voice. She couldn’t deny that every time he touched her, it set her skin on fire. He held her hand to help her onto the plane and that was all she could think about for the seven hour flight.

They continued on for hours until the assassin finally agreed to a sparring match. “If you’re sure you wanna do this,” he agreed hesitantly, getting into a fighting position. “I’ll go easy on you though.”

Y/N laughed, getting into a fighting position too. “If you were anyone else I’d tell you not to but I’d like to at least get one punch in.”

He returned her laugh before throwing out a soft punch. She dodged it easily, returning the favor. Although, her punch was for real but she was so inexperienced her body language was obvious. John dodged it, not letting her get in a victory that easily. He threw another, slightly harder punch which she dodged once again, but she took the opportunity to send a kick to his knee. It actually landed, driving John’s knees to the ground but he was up in no time, launching himself at his wife. He pulled her to the ground, making sure to cushion her fall in the process, but she broke free, scrambling to her feet. She threw another punch but rather than dodge it, John grabbed her wrist and spun her around, pulling her body his. As soon as his crotch made contact with her ass—again—he immediately regretted it. She took him secondary shock to throw an elbow into his cheek, freeing herself. John was proud but he was ready to be done, he had some… stuff to take care of. So as she was setting herself up to send another kick at him, the highly trained assassin simply scooped her up, throwing her over his shoulder.

“John!” she shrieked with laugher as he carried her into the water. He laughed as she began to beg for mercy, not wanting to be thrown in the still cool water. Once he waded in to his hips, he threw her off of his shoulder, dumping her into the water with a laugh. “John,” she cried again as soon she resurfaced. He was laughing so hard it gave her the opportunity to grab the neckline of his shirt, dragging his face into the water too. She laughed as he fell but as soon as he resurfaced, she realized her mistake.

John was on her quickly, scooping her up so her chest was pressed against his. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips, making him forget the fact that he was planning on throwing her back into the water. Their eyes locked and suddenly there were no guards watching them and they hadn’t been forced into this marriage.

As Y/N stared into her husband’s deep brown eyes, all she wanted was to kiss him. For real. Not a quick peck or the one forced on them on their wedding day, she wanted this one to mean something. But as she was working up the courage to do it, there was a shout from the beach. “Hey!” one of the guards shouted. “There’s a call from your father!”

John groaned, also having hoped to kiss her in that moment. If he had just manned up a second earlier, he could be kissing his wife right now. And he’d have a better idea of where he stood in her life. The woman in question turned back to face her husband, letting out a soft groan too. She hesitantly unwrapped her legs from his hips, standing on her own and reluctantly pulling her arms from around his neck. But John had to suppress a groan of pleasure as her hands still trailed down his chest before falling to her sides.

As they waded to shore, John sent a slight glare to the man holding out the phone. He looked mildly startled but otherwise didn’t react as he handed his charge the phone. She answered in Russian, only saying a few words before hanging up. She handed the phone back to the guard before turning to face her husband. “You want to just order dinner?” she suggested, tired and not wanting to get ready to go out.

“Sure,” he agreed. “I’ll find a place while you get cleaned up.”

After a much needed shower, the newlyweds were sat in the villa’s breakfast nook, eating takeout from a genuine French restaurant. “So, is it true that my father saw you kill three men with a pencil and that’s why he recruited you?”

He shrugged, afraid to scare off his wife. “More or less,” he agreed, taking a sip of bourbon. Before he could say anything else, she was downing her water and grabbing the bottle of bourbon. “You drink bourbon?” he asked skeptically.

She shrugged as she poured. “Don’t know. My dad caught me stealing a bottle of vodka was I was sixteen. He said that if I even tasted a drop of alcohol before I was ‘ready’—who the fuck knows when that is?—then he’d beat the liquor out of me. But we’re in France, he’s not here, and I’m now a married woman,” she said, making a toast towards her husband before taking a sip. John laughed as she made a face of disgust at the first sip. “Ugh, how do you drink this?”

“It’s an acquired taste,” he chuckled. “Let’s start you with something easier.” He called in one of the guards, telling him to get a bottle of champagne from the wine cellar. “So no alcohol until now?”

She confirmed with a nod. “Surprising, I know. Considering that my father is Russian.”

“Well I can believe it based on the fact that he didn’t want you to learn how to fight,” he said as the champagne and two glasses were brought over. The assassin smoothly grabbed the bottle, opening it like it was nothing before pouring each of them a glass. He held up his glass like he was giving a toast. “To new experiences.”

She returned his toast, taking a sip of the bubbly liquid. “This is way better,” she agreed, setting it next to her forgotten bourbon. She slid the shorter glass to the center of the table, leaving the option for John if he wanted it.

“So, what was it like to be raised by Viggo Tarasov?” John asked, trying to get to know his wife. Truthfully, he already knew a lot about her from both observing her at work and based on what the others said but he figured she’d be freaked out if he just started spouting facts off.

“Um actually I can’t really remember my father before the age of twelve. I was mostly raised by maids and tutors since my mom passed when I was young. But I spent my entire life in New York,” she shrugged. “Not much to tell when you’re homeschooled.” John nodded, he honestly had too much to tell but she wasn’t ready to hear about his past just yet. “But not much to complain about when your every want has been met. I hope you don’t think of me as some sort of brat,” she said shyly. She may not know a lot about John’s life but she could tell he’s been through more than his fair share.

“I don’t think you’re a brat,” he assured her. “Your brother however…?”

“Oh don’t even get me started on that idiot. He’s only my half-brother if you didn’t know.” John chuckled at her eagerness to separate herself from him.

About two hours later their plates had been cleared and the drinks were long gone. Y/N had managed to drink over half the bottle of champagne while John had drank nearly the entire bottle of bourbon. “So what are your tattoos?” Y/N finally asked. She had been itching for a clear look ever since she caught a glimpse of them on her wedding night.

“They’re uh… reminders,” John explained. “I can show them to you,” he offered, feeling emboldened by the liquor. His wife only nodded but that was all the confirmation he needed. He stood up, taking her hand before leading her upstairs to the master bedroom. When they had arrived, he insisted on her taking the master bedroom while he took one of the guest rooms.

Upon shutting the door, he took a deep breath before lifting his shirt over his head. He stood tensely, listening for a reaction. He only heard a soft exhale of breath as her footsteps came closer. Her fingers just barely ghosted the inked skin as she took in the top letters. “Fortis Fortuna Adiuvat,” she read. “Fortune favors the bold.” Her fingers then flitted up to the dog on his upper right shoulder. “Got in a little trouble when you were younger?” she guessed.

“A bit,” John chuckled. “How did you know what that meant?”

“I grew up around Russian mercenaries. You pick up on stuff,” she answered dismissively. “More trouble,” she said teasingly as her fingers found the fiery skull. Finally her fingers found the giant cross and praying hands. “Didn’t take you for a man of faith,” she mused.

John shrugged, turning to face his wife. She was taken slightly aback as she was greeted with her husband’s bare chest for the first time. He looked incredible, especially considering his age. “I don’t have faith in the traditional sense,” he answered, catching her attention. She looked up to see him staring at her intently. This was the moment, it was now or never.

She stood up on her toes, reaching John’s lips. He was taken slightly off guard but his arms were eagerly wrapped around her waist in a second. He bent more towards her, allowing him to deepen the kiss. He bit her lower lip softly, encouraging her to open her mouth. She did so, allowing his tongue to slip in gently, eliciting a soft moan from her. Suddenly he wasn’t thinking straight and he was pushing her towards the bed. She eagerly went along with it, tugging on his shirt to bring him down with her as she fell on her back onto her bed. His hands caught him so he didn’t crush her but he wrapped one arm around her waist, tugging her up towards the center of the bed so their feet were no longer hanging off.

As they continued to make out, John’s hand slipped up under her top, finding that his wife wasn’t wearing a bra. His fingers immediately began teasing her nipples, causing her to let out soft moans.

When he pulled away to take her top off, she took the opportunity to speak up. “John, wait. You should know something,” she began. He looked concerned and halted his movement, resting his hand on her stomach and placing his weight on his other arm so he could look at her fully. “I wanna do this. I really do,” she assured. She couldn’t possibly convey how much she wanted her husband right then. “But you should know… I’m a virgin,” she admitted almost shamefully.

Shit, was all that ran through John’s mind. He should have put that together given her lack of life experience but he hadn’t been thinking critically in his mildly inebriated state. He pulled further away from his wife, much to her dismay. “We shouldn’t do this right now then.”

“What?” was all she managed to choke out. She was married to him. Who was she supposed to lose her virginity to if not for him?

“I want you, believe me,” he tried to assure her. She couldn’t possibly comprehend how much willpower this was taking. “But you’re drunk—for the first time too,” he added. “You shouldn’t be losing your virginity drunk. I don’t want you to have any regrets.”

She didn’t even argue with him, too embarrassed to say anything. She just pulled her legs into her chest, clearly uncomfortable and feeling vulnerable. He felt bad, but he’d feel worse if she ever had any regrets about their first time together. So he just took his leave, frustrated with himself too.

~

At breakfast John tried to catch his wife’s eye but she refused to even look at him. Every time he spoke she’d either let out a noncommittal hum or outright ignore him. She only stayed in the kitchen long enough to eat her food before retreating upstairs to her room.

John had to admit he was hurt by her reclusion. He had done the right thing last night so why did he feel bad? The only reason he didn’t try to force her to get over last night was because he knew her behavior was a result of shame, not anger. She wasn’t lashing out at him because she didn’t get what she wanted, she was embarrassed. So he decided to give her space to cool off before giving her a fun night out.

Right before dinner time he finally knocked on the master bedroom’s door. After a moment it finally opened, revealing Y/N. She hadn’t even changed out of her pajamas today but as she answered, he could tell she was trying to pretend that nothing was wrong. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Get dressed,” he told her. “We have dinner reservations.”

“Oh John thank you, but I don’t-”

“No,” he cut her off. “I need to make up for last night. So we’re gonna have a fun night and get over this little rough patch,” he said in a light tone, trying not to come across like he was ordering her around.

“You don’t have to make up for anything,” she assured. “You did the right thing. It’s just a little embarrassing to be rejected by your own husband,” she let out an awkward laugh. “I’ll uh meet you downstairs in 15,” she said before shutting the door.

Before she stepped away to go get changed, she listened for John’s footsteps. Once she was sure he was gone she went to her suitcase, looking for something suitable to wear. She found a white sundress with blue floral patterns that reached mid-thigh. Putting it on, she paired it with sandals and natural makeup. Just before exiting the room she spotted her engagement and wedding rings. John had been wearing his wedding band the entire time they were married but she hadn’t worn hers since the wedding. She didn’t have anything against John or the marriage (really only against her father for forcing so many things on her) but she mostly just didn’t like wearing such a massive diamond. When she had brought up concerns that the ring could break, John just said he’d get her a new one like it was no big deal. So, seeing as it seemed like he wanted her to wear it, she put the rings on before heading downstairs. There, she found John sitting in the foyer wearing a suit.

When he saw her, he stood up, giving a genuine smile. The rings on her finger didn’t escape his notice, giving him hope she wouldn’t try to leave him. He reached out to take her hand but hesitated, remembering that her wounds were still fresh from their encounter last night.

She returned his smile, albeit a bit forced. The movement of his hand didn’t escape her notice either but she ignored it, walking past him towards the door. She opened it, walking out but still held the door open for him.

The pair strolled down the street, tension between them. All was forgiven on both parts but it was still incredibly awkward. To pass the time, Y/N looked around, spotting her guards popping up every once in a while. John was doing the same but rather than looking for guards, he was looking for threats that slipped through their security detail. Technically he wasn’t working. He was supposed to be relaxing on his honeymoon. But he had assumed the role of commander of the detail following him around. He knew about everything that was happening. Every single person that walked by their temporary home and every boat that passed by their private beach. John already found himself incredibly concerned for his wife’s safety. Sure, when he was tasked with watching her in the past he took his job seriously, but now she was more than a job.

“This is it,” John ended the silence as they reached a very busy restaurant. The heiress had honestly mistaken it for a club at first because of the line of people waiting to get in. “C’mon, we have reservations,” he said, answering her unasked question. He extended his hand, more confidently this time, which she took, following him up to the hostess’ stand.

“Hi, do you have a reservation?” she greeted.

“Yes, two for Wick.”

“Okay, I have you right here. Follow me, Mr. and Mrs. Wick,” she smiled. She led them through the crowded restaurant to a secluded table on the balcony, right over the water. “Enjoy,” she bid them as they sat.

“Mrs. Wick, haven’t heard that one yet,” Y/N said once the hostess left. It was a little unnerving hearing it for the first time.

John kept his cool facade but internally was freaking out. Did she not like his last name? Did she not want to be attached to him? Or did she just prefer to keep her own name? That’d be fine with him but they were already in such a delicate position right now and he didn’t want to make her anymore uncomfortable. Fortunately he didn’t have to say anything because the waiter came up to them.

“Bonjour, how are we this evening?” he asked the pair. The waiter honestly looked more like he was from California than France. He had tan skin and sunny blonde hair with beachy waves. As if he had spent every day of his life surfing.

“We’re good,” John answered, not missing the way the waiter’s gaze lingered on his wife’s chest. “We’ll take a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.”

The waiter gave a strained smile. “Of course, sir. I’ll be right back.”

John turned to look back at his wife but she was staring down into the ocean, holding herself tightly. He could see the goosebumps starting to form on her arms from the breeze. “Cold?” he asked.

That seemed to snap her out of whatever daze she was in. “Hm? Oh no I'm fine,” she assured even though she was rubbing her arms. John wordlessly stood up, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around his wife. “Thanks,” she smiled sheepishly, pulling the jacket closer as John retook his seat.

“Of course. Wouldn’t want you freezing to death,” he joked. But honestly, he’d do anything to get more clothes on her and keep her out of that waiter’s gaze. Speaking of…

“Your Cabernet,” the waiter introduced as he set down the wine glasses. As he poured he finally took the chance to introduce himself. “My name is Theo and I’ll be your server today. Can I start you with any appetizers?” he asked, the entire time ignoring John’s presence.

“We’ll just start with Cervelle de Canut,” John answered, forcing the waiter’s attention to him.

Theo gave another forced smile. “Of course,” he agreed, leaving the couple again.

They returned to their slightly awkward silence, Y/N now unconsciously fiddling with her ring on top of the table. “Does it need to be resized?” John asked.

“Oh, no,” she answered, pulling her hands back to her lap. “Just not used to wearing such a big ring. I’m entirely convinced I'm going to lose it,” she said, staring at the 10 carat diamond. “And if that happens my father will murder me.”

“Why? He didn’t buy it.”

Her jaw dropped open at that admission. “John I-” she didn’t know what to say. “You shouldn’t have. This is way too expensive.”

He just waved his hand dismissively, amused by her reaction. “I may not be as rich as your father but that doesn’t mean I can’t afford nice things.”

“I know that. I just… you don’t seem like the type to spend so much on material things. Especially a ring for a girl you barely know.”

“I wanted to,” he assured. “Remember, I already knew a lot about you from when I worked with you.”

“You mean when you were creeping in the shadows watching me?” she teased.

“You make me sound like a creep when you phrase it like that!” That got a genuine laugh from her. John couldn’t help but smile in response. He liked her laugh.

Their night continued smoothly for the most part. The pair was really clicking except for whenever that waiter came over. But John just tried to ignore him. As they were eating dessert, John got a call. He groaned, reluctant to let his date be cut short. But a glance at the caller id told him he had to get it. “Sorry,” he said to his wife as he answered the phone. “This is Wick,” he answered.

“John, we’ve got a minor situation,” Kirill’s voice came over the phone. “This guy tried to break into the house. He won’t say anything but I don’t think he’s associated with anyone dangerous.”

John sighed. “Give me a second,” he called into the phone. Pulling it away from his mouth, he looked at his wife. “This’ll just take a minute,” he assured her, getting up.

She nodded as he walked away, searching for some sense of privacy. Meanwhile, Theo had been watching the pair, waiting for the wife to be alone for a second. As John walked past him, he made a beeline for the secluded table. “Can I help you with anything else, madame?”

“Oh, no I'm alright. Just the cheque please.” But rather than go get the check or simply place it on the table, Theo sat in John’s seat. “Uh…”

“Are you okay?” he asked seriously. “You didn’t exactly look happy when you came in and I couldn’t help but notice that your husband is so much older.”

“Oh, well thank you for your concern but we’re perfectly fine,” she replied, maybe a bit more forceful than necessary.

“Are you sure? Because if you’re in trouble we can help you. There’s an American embassy right down the street.”

“I’m fine, seriously,” she assured. “My husband makes me very happy.”

Theo sat back, seemingly satisfied his customer wasn’t being trafficked but he still had one goal he wanted to accomplish. “I find it hard to believe an old man like him could satisfy such a pretty thing like you,” he flirted smugly. His tone went from genuine concern to arrogant flirting, like he was casually picking up a girl in a bar.

“Uh…” she had no idea what to say in this situation.

“C’mon, you can’t honestly be telling me that you’d rather fuck grandpa over me?”

As Y/N was looking around for help, she finally spotted John approaching and based on the murderous look on his face, he had heard what the waiter said.

“What’d you just call me?” he shouted, catching everyone’s attention and silencing the balcony.

Apparently Theo was stupid because he stood up to face the assassin. “You heard me old man. Although I’m surprised you can hear at all.”

John looked like he wanted to punch the boy but he restrained himself. Instead, he just walked around Theo to where his wife already stood, waiting for him. She took his hand, still wearing his jacket as they headed to the exit.

John angrily stormed out into the street but was stopped by a shout behind them. “Mr. Wick!” a slightly disheveled looking man called.

John looked back at the man who had stopped in the doorway. He turned back to his wife. “Go with Damien,” he nodded over to one of the guards standing on the curb nonchalantly. Sensing that this was about more than just a rude server, she complied, going to stand next to one of the many mercenaries that worked for her father. John walked back over to the owner, another member of the Russian mob who was all too familiar with the reputation of John Wick.

“I’m very sorry for what happened,” he apologized, shaking John’s hand. In it was a gold coin as gratitude for not causing a bigger scene. “I assure you that the boy will be dealt with properly. He didn’t know better.”

John didn’t say anything, just nodded and tucked the gold coin into his pocket as he went back to his wife. She took his hand once again as they headed back towards the villa. “Are you okay?” he asked as he stormed down the sidewalk.

“Yeah, are you?” she asked, concern lacing her voice. She spent her entire life around violent men but had never seen someone get this angry over something so small.

“I’m fine,” he insisted as they reached the house. He continued pulling her behind him, even once they got inside. But once they got inside the foyer, Y/N stopped walking.

“John what is the matter with you?” she asked. “Yeah he was being a dick but he was harmless.”

John took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. He didn’t want to admit out loud that he reacted so harshly because he was jealous. Because he is John Wick, The Boogeyman, Baba Yaga, and no one should ever even look twice at what’s his. So instead of admitting his feelings with words, he decided to show her. He marched right over to his wife, grasping her face and pressing a burning kiss to her lips. She immediately melted into his arms, now understanding what was going on.

His hands moved south, under her ass to her upper thighs. He tapped the back of her thighs, urging her to jump. She did, wrapping her legs around his waist so he could carry her upstairs. Upon reaching the master bedroom, their lips only parted so she could remove John’s shirt and tie. As she laid, sprawled out on the bed, looking slightly disheveled, the assassin took the moment to admire her. Her lip gloss was almost all gone, her hair messy, and the neckline of her dress had been pulled way down. He leaned down on the bed to kiss her again, this time much more gentle. As he kissed her sweetly, his hand crept up under her dress until he found her most intimate parts. Through her lace panties, John rubbed his fingers against her core until he found her clit, eliciting a moan from her lips. John only pulled away from her lips enough to say, “You like that, huh?” To which she only let out pathetic whimpers.

After toying with her for a few minutes, his hand moved up to the waistband of her panties, ripping them off her body. But once they were off, John couldn’t wait anymore, he just wanted his wife to feel good. So without warning, he fell to his knees in front of her, throwing her legs over his shoulders and lifting her skirt so he could reach her core. “So beautiful,” he murmured. “And so wet for me.” His face then moved closer to her core, kissing up her thighs as he went. She could already feel the coil in her stomach tightening in anticipation. John started with small licks to her clit and she nearly whined but she suppressed the noises. But when his tongue delved inside of her, she couldn’t take it anymore. She sat up, grasping her husband’s long hair. He let out a soft groan of pleasure as she grasped his hair, beginning to grind herself against his face, anxious for her own undoing. But when he returned his tongue to her clit and brought two fingers inside of her, pumping and curling them, the coil snapped and she came on his face.

“John,” she moaned, desperate.

“Yes?” he asked with a satisfied smirk on his face. She was still breathing heavily from her first orgasm, unable to answer. “You want me to fuck you?” he asked with a knowing smirk. She only nodded desperately. His smirk widened into a smile as he stood up, looming over his wife. She crawled further up the bed, bringing her body from the edge as she laid her head against the pillows. John stood, removing his trousers. His cock immediately springing up, already hard. He pulled a condom out of his pants pocked, putting it on before he then kneeled in between her legs on the bed, her pussy still dripping. He leaned over her body, kissing her, one of his hands finding her still clothed breast, rubbing circles around it, occasionally brushing over it. “Take it off,” he said in a gruff voice, going back to kissing her once he finished speaking. She didn’t have to be told twice, hands reaching down to pull the dress up. John helped her get it over her head, leaving her body bare to him for the first time. Sure, they had been close to each other before, but bare, they their bodies truly fit together like puzzle pieces.

She moaned, letting his mouth muffle the noise. John then moved from her lips, kissing down her neck, between the valley of her breasts, straight down her stomach, before kissing her clit again. He then moved back up, kissing her again so she could taste herself. “Are you ready,” he whispered, lips ghosting over hers. She nodded emphatically, brushing their noses together accidentally. “I need you to say it,” he insisted. He needed a full green light from her before he took her virginity.

“Yes John,” she breathed. “Fuck me, make me yours.” With another kiss John thrust himself inside of her, slow and gentle. He had to restrain himself from jackhammering her into the bed and abusing her pussy. She let out a moan too loud at the intrusion, her husband’s hand quickly clamping over her mouth to silence her. “Wouldn’t want the guards to know what I’m doing to you,” he grunted into her ear.

She just moaned softer, her fingers finding his back. One arm grasped where his neck connected to his shoulder, holding on for dear life. While the other arm was clutching his lower back, careful to avoid his tattoos, nails digging into the skin as she urged him to go faster. Fortunately, he got the message because he began to pick up the pace, soft groans filling her ears. Eventually he pulled away from her, going up on his knees, bringing her hips with him. She nearly screamed as he hit a new spot inside of her but his look kept her quiet. But when the coil snapped again and she came all over his cock, she bit her lip to keep her screams at bay. John continued fucking into her until his hips began to stutter and he came.

Once he finished, he pulled out of her, making her whine at the loss of his fullness. A smile crept on his face as he mode to lay on his side, his head propped on his arm. Meanwhile, she turned onto her side to face him. “God, that was… you were incredible.”

John chuckled, his free hand brushing the hair out of her face and leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead before his hand slid down to rest on her hip. “Not bad for an older guy?” he joked, now able to look back and laugh about the night’s earlier incident.

“You’re not old,” she insisted. “Sorry about your back,” she apologized, remembering how she had dug her nails in.

“Trust me, I’ve been through worse,” he assured, pressing another kiss to her forehead. He couldn’t get enough of her. “C’mon,” he said, getting up, “let’s get you cleaned up.” He led her to the ensuite bathroom, immediately pushing her to sit on the edge of the bathtub. He then wasted no time turning the shower on, letting it warm up quickly. As the water warmed up, John grabbed a washcloth, wetting it before bringing it over. He kneeled in front of his wife once again, gently nudging her legs apart so he could clean all the slick from between her thighs. She shivered as the cool cloth touched her hot skin, and she grasped his shoulder for stability.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“Of course,” he returned with a soft smile. That night they just held each other, soaking in one another’s warmth.

Masterlist