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westside-rot · 3 days ago

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Talk To Me Nice

Pairing: Terry Richmond X Black reader

No warnings for this one. Hopefully there aren't too many errors cuz it's only lightly edited. I'm trying to squeeze in my last post of the year lol

This little idea is the result of a writing prompt and @megamindsecretlair keeping me honest about writing something every day. Figured I'd share the results with whoever else wants to check it out.

“That’s a bit harsh my love…”

After spending the last 20 minutes filling your home with negative energy you expected reciprocation. Instead you were being derailed with a new form of gaslighting, the kind reserved for evolved men who appeared harmless on the surface but harbored a petty side few got to see. Though impressive, you knew Terry was only using kind words to paint himself the victim. It didn’t matter how many steps ahead you thought you were. The guilt still hit with the same bruising force.

Six months of newlywed bliss cruelly interrupted by disappointment you never wanted to feel so early into your marriage. Perhaps there was a better way to convey that hurt to your husband. Maybe sitting him down for a mature conversation would’ve spared you from the growing pressure around your temples and the rawness in your throat from all the yelling you’d been doing. You were convinced the window for apologies and grand romantic gestures had closed. He'd started it. You were damn sure going to finish it.

You pushed through your doubts and committed to your frustrations with arms folded tightly across your chest, the initial urge to roll your eyes shifting to a hard, resolute stare. “Well Terrence sometimes harsh is necessary.”

He scratched his beard and nodded as though you’d just agreed on what to have for dinner. Silence took over the room once again, intensifying the conflict between you. His eyes never broke contact.

“Are you done?” From anyone else the question would’ve triggered your inner toxic and possibly resulted in the police being called. But there was note of calmness in your husband’s voice that exonerated him from the accusation before it became your new truth. Terry wasn’t being dismissive. He was simply better at regulating his emotions. His inability to stop wringing his hands together revealed the stress hidden within. For a second time you were forced to ignore your guilt for the sake of winning. Mirroring his casual demeanor, you continued to stand firm and prepared for whatever he intended to say next.

“I must’ve imagined sitting in premarital counseling for all those weeks. Or maybe I was the only one taking it seriously. That must be it 'cause at the first sign of a problem you’ve broken every promise we made to each other.” His words landed direct hits on your conscience. Everything holding you together began to cave under the weight of his response. Terry wasn’t wrong. Instinctively, you went into defense mode anyway.

“That’s not fai—”

“Nah, you’re not about to interrupt me. I let you speak. You’ll show me the same respect. Understand?” The natural base in his voice instantly got your attention. Yes sir rang so clearly in your mind you weren’t entirely convinced you hadn’t said it out loud. You prayed Terry couldn’t somehow feel the lust pulsing alongside everything else flooding your system. One day soon under normal circumstances you were going to explore his newfound aggressive side. How, you weren’t entirely sure. With a new goal seared into your brain and soaked through panties clinging to your ass you managed to retain a sense of dignity as you obeyed your husband’s command.

“You’re my wife. One day you’ll be the mother of our children. I refuse to let them hear us talking crazy to each other, so I’m gonna need you to find a better way to communicate your feelings. If I need to sign us back up for therapy I will but this shit ends tonight.”

All the fight drained from your body. Shame took its place. In its presence you were finally able to recall those important conversations leading up to your wedding, the dreams you shared, the legacy you wanted to create. If not for your anger you could have revisited them sooner and found a better use for them. Now you were facing an evening apart, perhaps more depending on how long Terry held on to a grudge.

All you could do was stare at the ground and wait for it to be over with. Hopefully you’d find a way to sleep knowing you had failed your first test as a wife. When your lip started to quiver you promptly bit down on it to keep your hurt feelings in check. You hadn’t behaved in a way deserving of care but when Terry's long fingers reached out to palm the side of your face you sought out his warmth like a needy kitten.

“Now you’re breaking my heart.”

“I can’t help it. Did you have to be so mean?” Though you found your ability to speak you burrowed your pout lips further into his hand. The loudest person in the room didn’t deserve to cry. If you were lucky you'd disappear and rematerialize tomorrow with more sense.

“It got your attention. Besides, I thought harsh was necessary. Or does that only apply when you’re cursing me out?” He chuckled. You weren’t persuaded by the playfulness in his voice to look up. Terry initiated the gesture with fingers affectionately placed beneath your chin. It wasn’t lost on you that he'd repositioned your face at the same proud angle you held while lecturing him as if two nights apart somehow equated to years of neglect. You wanted to look away but soon discovered his eyes remained steadfast and beautiful in the aftermath of the storm you’d caused. They connected with your soul in an instant providing a gentle assurance that you were safe with him.

The words flowed through your upturned lips effortlessly. “I’m sorry baby. You didn’t deserve all those ugly things I said to you.” Before you could say more he captured your face in both hands, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“You’re already forgiven my love.” Terry’s lips grazed yours as he spoke. The distance was torture. Finally, after what felt like an unbearably long time, he covered your mouth with his, reestablishing his dominance with a tenderness that sets your heart and mind at ease. It was a proper reconciliation, but it also wasn’t enough. Not after the way you behaved tonight.

You treated the sincerity on his lips as your own personal buffet. When it became difficult to breathe you pulled away to regain control over the situation. “I still have a lot to make up for.”

A smile tugged at his lips as he pushed the curls back from your face. “We both do. Your approach needs some work, but you had a right to be upset with me.” You nodded and yet nothing in you wanted to celebrate the vindication. You were simply relieved to know you hadn’t caused any irrevocable damage by overreacting. Even more relieved to see him smiling again. "I think my beautiful and extremely childish wife should get the honor of going first.”

The frown you attempted to hold cracked under the pressure of his wide grin. You hate being teased. You were also guilty on all counts and willing to take your punishment. “I suppose that’s fair.”

“It’s very fair.” He mumbled between prolonged kisses down your neck.

You exhaled and curved your fingers over his broad shoulders. It was becoming harder to think or even breathe with him sucking everywhere his lips could reach. “Can we talk it out like grown-ups tomorrow?”

“Of course, baby. It's mandatory from now on.” When he spoke the guttural quality possessing his voice registered deep in the places he’s yet to touch. You felt painfully empty but knew you wouldn’t stay that way for long. At the rate his lips were moving you weren’t convinced you'd make it past the couch. You preferred the comfort of your king-sized bed the scene of your crime was a fitting place for getting down on your knees to make proper use of your mouth.

Terry surprised you when he broke the suction on your collarbone to reunite at eye level. There was a noticeable glint of mischief in his eyes before he bent down to throw you over his shoulder. You squealed and braced a hand at the center of his back for support you really didn't need.

"You better not drop me trying to be cute!"

"I was planning on letting you off easy tonight. Now I'm thinking your apology needs to be as loud as all that shit you've been talking."

"Yes daddy. Remind me what all these big strong muscles are really for. Also, please send help!"

With a single act you reclaim the home you’ve built, your gasps and combined laughter echoing along the walls as he carried you upstairs.

#terry richmond fic #rebel ridge fanfiction #x black reader

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drgnflyteabox · 1 day ago

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red ochre [4]

series masterlist previous || part four -> orchil || part five -> kermes

pairing: viking goap x fem! nun reader summary: double-edged swords, field trips, and wolf figurines w.c: 4.2k tags/warnings: religious & sexual guilt / shame, stockholm syndrome, inner turmoil, suicidal thoughts (minor), violent thoughts, oral (f), dubcon/noncon, stockholm syndrome, reader says "stop" / "no" but johnny continues, reader has some puritanical ideas about sex (virtue, virginity) but shes a nun so give her a break, power imbalance, thoughts of death/afterlife, self hatred, "little" used affectionately not as a size indicator lol

You wake up to the sound of a childs’ babbles the next morning, disoriented and confused - had sister Margery taken in another orphan girl to raise up in the convent? The softness of the bed beneath you betrays your confusion, rocking you slowly into reality as you blearily open your eyes.

Johnny sits at the table, cooing to a baby on his knee. He bounces them as they make sounds, soft happy ones that contrast with his muscles and scars and hair. In your observation of him you think about how a man so coarse-looking could be so soft to lay against, how he could go from sweet to firmer than stone in a moment. How his hands held you down not two days past, and soothed the skin that still ached as you shifted in bed now.

A conflicted series of emotions had risen in you since, and though something had calmed inside you, the primary tide was a pervasive sense of shame and it tended to overpower everything else.

“Who's that?” Johnny says, his voice high-pitched. “Is that my wife?”

He's cooing to the child, but still you burn and twist with too many things to dwell on lest you go mad.

Simon is nowhere to be found, but that's not been unusual in these winter mornings.

“Who's this?” You murmur, sitting up. Your woolen shift is warm, a soft red colour dyed by one of the village women that Johnny told you he'd traded for specially. Red ochre, he’d said, fingering the cloth. A beautiful muted red kind of colour.

A little like dried blood.

“Gaz's bairn,” Johnny says. “His house is gettin’ invaded by some rowdy boys, and the lasses’ are at the river.”

He must see the confusion on your face, because he adds, “boys are gettin’ ready for a hunting party.”

The baby shrieks, clapping clumsily as Johnny lifts a carved wooden toy up to them. He crinkles his eyes, looking between you and the baby. You want to discourage whatever thoughts he's having, so you stand and move to the fire, away from his wandering blues.

“Should I make something?” You don't dare look at him.

“So sweet of ye,” Johnny hums. “The baby eats eggs.”

You nod.

As you steadily become more awake, thoughts begin to cloud your mind.

Guilt is strange; it spreads like a plague, tainting anything you've decided to take some control of. Cooking, chores, talking cautiously with the men or allowing your heart to soften. The poison has grown from your first peak, spreading outward from your core and into your mind, leaving you worse off.

Simon hadn't done anything else, nor had Johnny. You'd cooked them lunch and breakfast, asked for sewing equipment for mending and receiving it promptly after. From Gaz's woman, Johnny had said. She says hello. Any contact outside of Johnny or Simon hadn't once crossed your mind, especially not since having sat on Simon's lap at the feast like a prize.

But you were a prize, a stolen woman, taken to wife. However you spun the narrative it was hard to get past that fact and harder still to get past that it might fulfill something inside you that nothing else could or could've. That perhaps you were tainted, and the taking had been because they saw it in you somehow. Sniffed the false servant of God as you worked, not anything by coincidence but guided by some instinct that told them you were just as bad.

Your little book, the one you missed dearly, the one piece of physical evidence that damned you.

Though God had never spoken to you back, you'd imagined in the convent that when you passed he'd simply show you the blasphemous, lustful evidence of your filthy mind and send you to burn.

Now you knew that He wouldn't have to do that. You'd simply burn without any chance, damned worse now by your treacherous cunt.

“-nun? Where's my little nun gone?” You turn, startled. The eggs are crisp, and darkening by the second.

You hurry to pull them out of the hot fat as Johnny watches you, still cooing and bouncing.

“Sorry,” you slide him a nearly burnt egg. “Can the baby still eat them?”

“Should be fine,” he tears the egg with his fingers, offering tiny pieces.

It's hard, but not too tough or burnt. Just browned, fried and crispy. You wonder if this could count as a sin, how nearly wasting food would weigh against coming on the fingers of a viking heathen.

The hopelessness gets you sometimes, gets you as you try to sleep and in moments like these. What option do you have? Adapt, or what? Sure, it's probably better to take advantage of their lack of extreme violence and make your predicament as best as possible, especially without an escape route and without the strength to fight them.

You feel watched, judged, observed on all sides. Giving in and navigating how to be a viking wife might be better than resisting forever, but the unseen eye of divine judgement and its gaze rests heavily on you. In fact, it's like it seeps into you through your skin and connects with the shame to compound both feelings.

“There she goes again,” Johnny says, but you hear him this time.

“I'm here,” you say. The baby smacks their lips, enjoying the egg despite its texture.

“No ye aren't,” his blue eyes are piercing, cutting through the fog of unease. “Ye getting all worked up again? I better not catch ye out back again.”

You shake your head, though he's right to think that way. Cleansing yourself has been on the back of your mind, not only the holy kind but what they can bring you with a different kind of force.

There's the sprout of desire that's grown bigger and bigger, as if some dry seed had always resided inside you and they had watered it back to life.

“I'm not,” you finally say, though too much time has passed and it's clear Johnny doesn't believe you.

The door opens and you're saved by the interruption. A new anxiety forms as multiple people enter, curling suddenly like a hook. Simon, Gaz, Gaz's wife and Price step in.

“Tyra,” Gaz says. “Where's my little Tyra?”

The baby shrieks again, reaching her hands out. You see the resemblance to both Gaz and her mother now, seeing them up close again. She claps for Gaz, her mother behind him and smiling at you gently.

“How are ye, Kari?”

“I'm well, thank you,” Kari says. She's always so soft, so glowy every time you see her. No wonder Gaz has scooped her up, you think you'd have also planted a baby in her belly if you were both able and a viking. Such thoughts sometimes arrested you at random in the convent, admiring the other women and dismissing them as silly.

You try not to put more weight into them now, as it doesn't serve your predicament.

But still, you admire Kari.

“And you?” her eyes soften.

“Well,” you parrot. There’s no way to explain how unwell you really are - or how your well-ness is causing that unwellness. It's confusing enough for you.

“She's settling in,” Simon says. He's trading looks like Price, whose beard is becoming a little overgrown.

Gaz takes Tyra, who babbles happily. For a moment it's like this place isn't all evil and temptation, but also love and care. It's easy to get lost in the image of Gaz and Kari making kissy faces to Tyra, who is unknowing of the world and happy to be in it.

They don't linger long. There are words exchanged that you don't pay attention to, hands clapped and Tyra kissed goodbye. You learn that she's nearly two, still a baby but getting bigger. Price teases the couple about their next as they leave, making Kari laugh a hearty laugh that fills you with warmth.

It evaporates a little when you're left with Simon and Johnny and silence, the atmosphere changing to something unfamiliar. This boundary you'd crossed with them has left you someplace awkward, with you mostly lost in your head.

Simon is good at getting you out of that space, but he's been gone often since the incident and Johnny's intensity tends to push you further inward.

He comes up behind you, now, and sets his heavy hands on your shoulders.

“She been like this all day?” He asks Johnny, who hums affirmatively.

Simon leans down, lips brushing the top of your head, hands squeezing your shoulders, before he pulls you backwards into his torso.

“Your god speaking to ya?” He asks.

“No,” you say honestly. “He's silent.”

“Silent, eh?” There's a chuckle, then two. They're heathens, you remind yourself. Heathens.

“Lamb, why don't ye spend some time with the wee lady Tyra?” Johnny scoots forward on the bench, touches your knee, smiles.

“Might do you some good,” Simon agrees. “‘specially since we're goin’ on a hunt.”

You pause.

“A hunt?”

Johnny nods.

“I'll be stayin’ behind,” he says. “Watch our little nun.”

Simon finally sits behind you, hands sliding from your shoulders to the softness of your upper arms, still squeezing.

“It's past time,” Simon says quietly behind you. He explains the yearly hunt, the walrus in the right location, the ivory they will sell and the oil they will gain for use. There's a whisper of something there, maybe longing, maybe not. You can't tell, not with his aloofness. He's closed off as a default, but he rubs your arms like he's comforting you and you decide to take it as such.

There's nothing left for you to say, so you just nod. You're still trying to resist taking on an intimate role, a wifely role, something that will make them think you've given up. You haven't yet, you might not. You have options, even if they're unpleasant or permanent.

A shiver passes through you. That isn't what you want. You're stuck, but you have to rationalize: it isn't what you thought it would be.

You've felt good. You feel good now. The remaining pain comes from the twisting, growing shame that slowly turns in a circle and ensnares your insides.

That, and the taking. It still feels unfair, feels wrong. If you think on it too hard you start to feel like a thing, not a person.

Johnny seems regretful that night, a mix of pride and love for Simon warring with his need to stay home with you. He sleeps in the middle, leaving you near the wall and opting to join hands with Simon through the night. These moments humanize them to you as well – to your distress, and to your softening.

They love each other in the way you've seen some of the villagers love each other, in the way that love is universal; it's a little different, because they're different, but it's tender nonetheless.

Love is luck, you think. Luck enough to find someone to be tender with in a world that is hard to live in, that is so utilitarian, so survival dependent.

Simon leaves the next morning with a group of hunters. Price leads the pack of them, slapping the backs of some of the younger ones who for them it'll be their first or second winter hunt, encouraging them. It's a mixed group with both men and women, younger and older, seasoned and green.

You stand beside Johnny at the door, watching the group move through the village until they are gone. Johnny tells you that they’ll ride horses, but they’re further out. Lest we smell the horse shite, he laughs. Got enough on our plate with Si. The joke has a thread of longing in it.

You’ve never been truly alone with either of them, you realize. Sure, a few hours here and there, but never for the days that Simon plans to be gone. Never slept alone with either of them.

Simon has been somewhat of a buffer, even if he’s the one who initiated the incident and carried it out. He balances the infinite well of restlessness Johnny has.

It’s frightening and comforting all at once. For one, you don’t feel like a bug pinned by its wings, even if that means you’re even more anchor-less than before. Simon is solid despite his surliness, and without him to steady the dynamic you worry.

“Ah dinnae know what to make,” Johnny bemoans. He wants to prepare some kind of gift as a surprise. “Already got too many statues.”

“Statues?” you ask, tilting your head towards him.

“Aye,” he nods, moving to a far corner of the house. He produces a little leather pouch, then little carved wooden figurines. One of them is a wolf, the other a bird.

“You made this?” you take one delicately in your hand, as if it would break. Statues, he said. They’re cute, clearly having been made with care.

Turning the wolf in your hand, you admire the polished shine of the wood.

“Aye,” he says again. “Si’s got too many.”

He spends a portion of the day puttering about, stoking the fire, sharpening various tools. You can’t tell if he’s restless because Simon is gone, or if you hadn’t noticed his restless nature as much because Simon was his outlet.

An urge rises in you, that screaming urge you know more intimately than anything else, awakened and restless like a hungry beast – it stirs as Johnny stokes the fire, crouched and with his back to you.

The only way to go if not out is in and you won’t. Push him in, you think. If you want out, push him in.

But you won't. There’s darkness at the core of you to be sure, but not that kind of darkness. Not the kind both he and Simon are steeped in. Violence, sadism maybe.

That would make you the other side of the coin.

The same swirling pattern of thoughts plague you even as Johnny serves you fish and more turnip for dinner, even as he pulls you into bed for that night and wraps himself around you.

You want to kick. To scream. To have a fit. Some insane, perverse fit; something that would have earned you an exorcism or an execution in the village. These thoughts come unbidden to you as you try not to feel the grasp of Johnny’s hand to your waist, nor the scruff of his beard on your throat.

Your identity has shifted, already. You aren't dead inside, not anymore. Not hoping for some outer force to take you away.

An outer force has taken you, and now you wrestle with the ramifications on your spirit.

It's unclean now, surely. But hadn't it always been?

Hadn't you willed this?

Happy faces appear in your mind. Kari. Tyra. Gaz. Price. Johnny. Simon is too hard to read, but the way he treats Johnny is enough to convey some kind of contentment.

And then the look at breakfast. The baby. Johnny’s gentle cooing, his attention. Simon’s hands squeezing you, reassuring you.

They contribute to the degradation of your spirit, to each rend of the glue that has held you together since first consciousness.

You try to hold onto the fear from before. Their words from before – behave and we won’t kill you. Does that still apply? Are you still under an ever present, looming threat? Were they only trying to get you moving?

Some part of you shudders to realize that it doesn’t feel that way. Even when they had sprung it on you to marry you, you hadn’t felt the same mortal fear as when they had absconded with you.

No, it had been hurt. Disappointment. The fear had shifted with your identity, staying present but becoming unfamiliar.

The you that they had taken was unfamiliar too. She’d have never built snowmen, nor ground her pussy into the hand of a viking and relaxed into another’s hold as you are now.

You wanted to live, you think. Even then.

A couple days pass. Johnny finally finds a suitable enough gift for Simon, a double edged blade he’s carving and sharpening.

The sight of it makes something tighten in your chest, so you avoid looking at it.

Between you both, it’s less awkward than you worried about. You come to a different understanding of him, one that comes from watching his independence without Simon. They truly do fit together, you think. Complement each other.

What about you? Are you here for them to have other options? A cunt, you think crudely. Something that gets wet without extra effort, something easy. You’ve certainly not made it hard. The thought puts you in another stink, frowning down at the pair of linen summer pants you’d found and started to mend.

“What’s this face ye got on?” Johnny steps up to you, setting the heavy blade on the table, and sitting.

You don’t speak, you just sew. Are you just a womb? Is that it?

“Awe, lamb,” he leans forward, hands finding the tops of your thighs and leaning on them. “So sour.”

When you still don’t respond, he reaches to take your sewing. You lose some bearing and prick him with the needle, frissy that he’s trying to take you out of your ruminations.

Provocative.

“Och,” he waves his hand, then laughs. “Prickly, are we?”

He forces the fabric from your hands, squeezing your hand until it opens with the needle and thread. You make some kind of irritated sound, like a growling cat, still half in reality and half in your mind.

“Ye’ve been stuck,” he pokes your forehead. “Stuck here, eh? Let me fix that.”

And then you’re pulled up to your feet, steered to the bed, and pushed before you can adapt.

“Simon’ll have’tae forgive me,” he murmurs. You’re sat on the edge, looking down at him with a frown.

“What-” you make a strange, caught off guard squeaking sound as he pushes you by the shoulders, lifting the edge of your dress.

“Sh,” he says sharply. “Should’a done this days ago.”

“Wait- don’t-” you slam your knees shut, trying to sit back up. Something sharp you can’t name explodes outwards from your chest, sharp spikes pricking your lungs and your heart, twisting.

Your struggle is mostly futile, though it’s easier that Simon isn’t here. Your arms flail, your legs scoot you away up the bed.

“Noo-” you try again. Your fear stems mostly from the uncertainty of what he’ll do, of the fear that he’ll steal the last true thing you have; your virtue.

“Relax,” he strong-arms you into lying down, arms crossed at your chest and his huge hand keeping them pushed down.

He positions himself parallel to you, replacing his hand with his bigger knee, his face right where he wants it.

“Ye should’ve asked me, lamb,” he murmurs, then kisses the hair above your pussy. Your stomach tightens, breath coming out in strained gasps from the combined weight of his knee and your shame.

You’re wet.

“I won’t smack ye if I don’t have tae,” he says. His hands rub up your hips, then your thighs, before coming up to your pussy and spreading your lips open.

Your clit strains in the open air, a cool breeze from the gaps in the door making it jump. He watches for a moment, cruelly, listening to the sound of your laboured breathing.

Then he dives in, tongue first. Because of the angle, his tongue dips down towards your hole while his lower lip catches your clit, making you gasp.

“Let me,” he hums, pauses. “Let me take care of ye, lamb.”

And God, he does. Johnny licks over you like a starved man, sucking your labia before flicking the tip of his tongue over your clit again as sounds come out of you like someone is pounding a fist into your chest.

He slurps your wetness obscenely, using his fingers to scoop whatever leaks from your hole as best he can and bringing them to his mouth to suck clean. He murmurs fervently about how good you taste, how he can smell the desperation from you.

“So neglected,” he sucks the wetness from your hair, even. “Forgive me.”

He’s talking to your cunt again, leaving you trembling against the bed and tightening, tightening, rising, rising–

He stops.

You damn near scream, but the sound gets trapped where he’s still putting his weight on you.

“I’m gonnae move, and yer gonnae stay right there all sweet for me, aren’t ye?” he turns to look at you, and though you can hardly see him you nod.

He lifts off, making you grunt involuntarily, then switches positions so he’s on his hands and knees nearly on top of you.

“Open those legs,” he says. Leans down to kiss your sternum over the fabric of your dress. “Let me ease yer mind.”

You can feel yourself falling further from grace, but God help you – you open your legs.

Johnny keeps eye contact as he slides down, getting on his stomach with those piercing blue eyes cutting through you.

When his mouth touches your cunt again, you feel yourself start to shake, growing more insane by the second. His tongue touches your hot, swollen flesh, dragging wetly against everything sensitive. He’s like an animal, you think. A heathen. No wonder these people have not seen God’s light. No wonder it does not reach here.

Something so sinful, so good, couldn’t possibly exist in the puritanical world you’d been taken from.

God, you think again, body twisting against the sheets, is this really what they kept from us?

“Please,” you cry out. Please stop? Please continue? It’s a plea for more than just Johnny, more than God. It’s a question that burrows deep in your mind and begs you to understand yourself, to untangle, to feel and release.

And oh, you’re breathing, breathing in, breathing in perhaps for the first time in your life. You wrench his hair in your fists, uncaring, screaming into the cold winter afternoon without a care. Your back arches, tilting your cunt further into his face, legs straining, gushing. Blood rushes in your ears, deafening you, once again turning the world into a small point where you can neither hear nor see.

All you can do is feel, ride, undulate. This is that fit you’d wanted earlier, it’s some insane hysteria, some sin that feels like ecstasy.

Your nipples tighten, stimulated by the chill of the air and the scratch of your woolen dress. Your peak is maddening, drawn-out and pushed further by Johnny’s lips suctioned around your clit and sucking in hard.

The moment you truly finish, when the stimulation turns to discomfort, you release his hair and push at his head.

“Stop,” you gasp. “Stop it.”

He doesn’t. His hands find your thighs, holding you open, running his tongue from your clit and then piercing it into your hole. His nose rubs on you, and though tears spill from your eyes you grind into it, crying for him to end it.

“One more,” he grunts.

“No,” you moan. Then you peak again, mouth open in a silent scream and eyes screwing shut, the fusion of sharp, near-painful pleasure and actual, overstimulated pain brings you a climax you could have never imagined of on your own.

You weep again as he pulls away, feeling raw and tender.

Boneless.

You wake in the middle of the night bundled and in both furs and arms. You’re pleasantly sore, pulsing a little still between your legs where Johnny’s thigh keeps you company. He’s so warm, so comfortable, that it’s easy for you to fall back asleep.

You wake again in the early morning, so early that the light of dawn hasn't yet breached the cabin.

Johnny snuffles behind you. Nose on your shoulder, hands migrating to rest just below your breasts.

“Mmmlamb,” he murmurs.

Your muscles are heavy, still. Weighed down with relaxation. It's true that you had gotten worked up, and that his actions had helped. You don't find any shame, not now. You've found a rare pocket of respite.

Simon is due back in a day or two unless there are extenuating circumstances. A winter storm, maybe. Or an errant predator.

What would life look like if he never returned? It’s an uncomfortable thought. You’re still on the edge of how you feel, teetering between extremes, but you rely on them both for survival.

Where could you go? Even when you’d ran, the plan had been borne of heart, not mind. Without Simon or Johnny, you’d be in a terrible precarious situation.

Without Simon permanently? You weren’t sure.

You very slowly extricate yourself from Johnny’s arms, sliding out of bed and into the cold air. The fire is just coals, so you add a few pieces of wood and stoke it for the day. In the dark, you can see the reflection of the fire in the sword Johnny had left on the table.

You pad to it, staring, curious and afraid. It looked orange from the fire, only darker. It looked like your beautiful red ochre dress, your blood dress.

You reach your fingers out and stroke along the blade, breathing shallowly in the dark.

Dawn breaks.

#Johnny's mouth🤝hitachi magic wand #sorry this took a while #nun finally gets her pssy ate<3 #she deserves it #this chap is very johnny-heavy #someone get him brown eye contacts please he's scaring the nun</3 #soap x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #ghoap x reader #cw dubcon #cw noncon #18+ mdni #red ochre

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quarterlifekitty · 2 days ago

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Okay listen I know I said I would stop but you adding onto könig gave me IDEAS.

Him fucking you while you play on your switch once you two get to his, frankly abysmally plain and sad, apartment in Austria only for him to whine about the switch taking too much of your attention and yoinks it from your hands.

Don't ask how he gets you papers, all that matters is now you're his wife and you're in his home country. Oh, you don't like where he lives? That's okay, he'll pick out a much better place. Oh, you only speak English/your native language? Good. He'll be the only one you need to talk to and he can translate anything you need to read and he'll fill out any silly forms needed.

Hope to god that if you don't want kids that your birth control is a fuckin implant. Though, it will only delay it. Not stop it. He wonders after a month of you living in Austria on top of however fucking long he was deployed near you, and not seeing you take or mention any type of birth control, why you aren't pregnant? Sure, hes.....older.....but that shouldn't be an issue, he read an article about a 68 year old man fathering a new baby a week ago. He's healthy, especially for his size. So just what could it possibly be? He decides to dig into your medical history, just to be sure, you can never be too careful, and there he spots the reason his little maus has yet to take. No worries, he knows a doctor.

Well. This got progressively out of hand. Would you believe me if I said I'm not even a könig main girlie?

I would believe you bc that man takes hold like a virus in your system man

The apartment is just a stepping stone— a family needs a house, he knows that, so he has you help him pick one. And I’m gonna say something. The ones he chooses to take you to and view… he picked based on how you build Minecraft houses. And maybe I’m a weenie, but I don’t think he takes your switch! You can’t really go out because you don’t know the language, and he’s gone for long periods on deployment— it’s good for you to have something to do. If he’s trying to spend time with you, he can just loom over you (you’re getting distracted by his cleavage tbh) and gently pull it away, putting it on sleep mode and on a side table.

And you know what. Perhaps a controversial opinion. He gets hard watching you play animal crossing. The way you decorate your little house and do all of the gardening, cooking, crafting. Taking care of the happiness and needs of all of the cute little animals. You’re already perfect at playing house! You’ve got free rein to use his cards to decorate however you want. Make the house a home, you know? And I don’t know about you, but I always have stuffed animals and cute toys all over my animal crossing house. So, to him, you’re basically already subconsciously ready for a baby.

I doubt reader has an implant in this, because she was terminally celibate before he showed up lol. But I do find the concept soooo funny. That he’s trying to get you pregnant so desperately, but of course he hasn’t told you that at all. He just tells you he’s coming inside and you go okay 💖 yay 💖. So like he could ask if you’re on contraceptives and you’d probably tell him but then he might have to admit to what he’s doing and he’d rather just read your entire medical history lmao. And he totally lies to you about why it has to be taken out. Saying there isn’t really medical care to maintain it in Austria, so you should really just have it taken out now.

And then you ask if it’s ok for him to keep giving you creampies even though your implant is gone. As usual, he says it’s fine— that you can let him worry about that!

#writing #cod fanfic #cod #konig x reader #konig #könig x reader #König #gamer!könig #cw manipulative #cw obsessive

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pupyuj · 20 hours ago

Text

→ “cherry on top.” || jang wonyoung x reader fic.

— gifting your girlfriend a beautiful (and expensive) necklace was going to be the perfect way to end the last night of your winter getaway but with the necklace being forgotten all the way back to your shared apartment, wonyoung decides on the next best thing…

word count: 3.7k.

dynamic: dom!jang wonyoung x sub!actress!reader.

warnings: age gap, reader is older, lots of biting and marking, fingering, mommy kink, praise kink, hair pulling, reader being an actress doesn't really play a big part lol, wonyoung is down horrendous, wony is also lowkey into pain like whoa!

requested?: nope.

a/n: fun fact, i wanted to drop this fic around/on christmas but ofc, i didn’t have enough time so i just made it winter-themed instead 😭 i would have loved to actually drop something from my wip list that's actually been there for a while but since this ended up being a short one, i decided to go with it instead! i hope you guys like it though! i know it's not my best work ever BUT this will be a nice little step to get me back to my writing machine roots 😎😎

“i really don’t know why i’m doing all of this. it’s really nothing special,” you shared a giggle with your girlfriend, wonyoung, as you guided her along the hallways. you made her wear your favorite sleeping mask to completely obscure her vision for the sole reason of surprising her with what you have spent quite a bit of time setting up earlier in the afternoon. wonyoung, despite her excitement, takes her next steps carefully. she didn’t want a stupid incident to take attention away from what you so obviously worked hard on. “but i think this is the best way to end our little trip.” you halted her steps, giving her a soft kiss from behind her shoulder and finally lifting up the mask.

wonyoung blinks several times to have her eyes adjust to the lights that illuminated the lodge. what she saw in the living room area was a humble picnic set up! soft sheets lay on the center of the room (wonyoung noticed that you pushed the coffee table aside for space) accompanied with a few pillows, a wicker basket filled with pasties, wine, and other snacks was sitting right beside it along with a bouquet of pink tulips, and right on the sheets was your laptop with Clueless more than ready to start playing.

“oh, unnie, this is wonderful!” wonyoung whips around and squeezes you for a tight hug. you returned the embrace with the same amount of love, even going as far as to giving a kiss to the side of her head. wonyoung proceeded on tugging you over at your little set-up and sat you down. one would think that you ended world hunger with the way her eyes shined as she stared at you. you tried to ignore that sinking feeling in your stomach—guilt. because as lovely as this was, this trip should not be ending like this. you had something far better planned! but you should have expected with the way you and wonyoung rushed to start the trip that you would forget the most important item that you would be gifting her—the prettiest diamond necklace that even made a successful and rich actress like yourself sweat with how expensive it was.

but you weren’t going to tell wonyoung about the dent it made on your bank account, like ever. anyhow, you realized that you completely forgot about the necklace on the previous night. you weren’t able to sleep much since something in the back of your mind was screaming at you to check your bags and make sure everything was perfect for the next day and alas, the necklace was nowhere to be found! if wonyoung hadn’t been sleeping peacefully, you would have screamed out of pure frustration at yourself!

there was no use crying over spilt milk, however. and so, you spent the rest of that nearly-sleepless night thinking up of ways to end the trip on a good note even without the necklace. a cute indoor picnic was the idea you liked the most, and now that you’ve seen how much wonyoung appreciates it, perhaps the idea wasn’t too bad. the next problem to tackle was explaining all the trouble you went through to set this all up to wonyoung, but maybe that should be saved for until you’re both too buzzed to care about anything else.

“i hope you don’t think this is boring compared to everything we’ve been doing for the past week, love.” you said as you filled up two glasses with wonyoung’s favorite white wine. (upon noticing this, wonyoung couldn’t keep her eyes off of you. maybe it was painfully simple of her to fawn over the fact that you remembered her favorite drink because it was the bare minimum considering you’ve been dating for years now, but it is as they say: it’s the little things! so, do pardon wonyoung for falling in love with you just a little bit deeper.) a surprised sound escapes your lips when you feel your girlfriend pressing her lips on your jawline, but then you laugh at how her hair tickled your skin.

when wonyoung leaned back and saw that she left a faint kiss mark on your jawline, she let out a satisfied smile. “what do you mean? this is lovely, unnie.” wonyoung can’t even remember all the times she has wished for one relaxing day with you, so she was beyond thankful that she had a whole week of just that. with her being a bigger idol than ever and you jumping from project to project, naturally neither of you had too much time to be together recently. but at least you were luckier than most celebrity couples who can’t even see each other at all! mostly because of their management that just refuses to give them time together. you and wonyoung were blessed with family, friends, and teams that supported your relationship so both of you made sure to enjoy this little trip with everything it had to offer.

“well, between skiing, having lunch in an observation deck atop the mountain, seeing the northern lights, and a picnic with some movies, which one would be more appealing to you?” you asked, leaning back on the pillows. almost automatically, you wrapped a single arm around wonyoung’s waist and pulled her closer to you.

“anything’s good with me as long as i’m with you. how’s that?” wonyoung replies with a grin, knowing she successfully made you cringe in your seat.

you laughed, shaking your head. “ew. cornball.”

the next three hours were a blur. thanks to wonyoung who was clearly having the time of her life, the two bottles of wine were finished relatively quickly. she had begged you to get just one more bottle, using everything in her power to convince you from fluttering her eyelashes, pouting, kissing you, and whispering naughty promises in your ear. as much as you didn’t want to wake up with a hangover, you couldn’t resist wonyoung. especially when all you could see in her eyes every time you looked at her was love!

surprisingly enough, wonyoung was… quiet. when she gets drunk, she’s usually so chatty and giggly. laughing at everything and nothing, sometimes she even turns into a whole pervert! inappropriate comments and all! but tonight, it seems like being in your embrace, basking in your scent, and listening to your heartbeat as she lay her head on your chest was everything she needed to be content. you turn your head steadily towards her, careful not to startle her away from your warmth. her eyes were closed and her breathing had slowed and gotten… heavier? was she asleep? well! that wasn’t how you expected your picnic night to go.

that is until you felt fingers sneak inside your hand-knit sweater, as well as plump lips pressed against your collarbone. a whimper accidentally escapes your lips at the cold sensation of wonyoung’s hand, and you can just tell that that was a sound you should not have allowed to come out of your mouth.

“you’re so sweet, (y/n)-unnie,” wonyoung was positively drunk! her cheeks were glaringly pink and a lazy smile spread across her face while she looked up at you from your shoulder. gods, she was adorable. but you didn’t have the time to revel in that fact when she suddenly straddles your lap, her long legs wrapping around your waist and keeping you in place. with nowhere to go, you were forced to look up at her this time. “planning this entire vacation behind my back, paying for everything and strongly refusing whenever i offered, giving me the best getaway of my life… why are you so perfect?”

“it’s what you deserve, wonyoung-ah.” your reply fell from your lips smoothly as if it was the only right answer to her question. and it really was.

wonyoung playfully rolled her eyes, “so do you. but i got distracted by how much thought you put into this entire vacation that i couldn’t think up of anything to make it up to you! except for one thing, of course…” you didn’t miss how wonyoung’s tongue swiftly brushed across her upper lip and how her smile now turned into something akin to a sly grin. her eyes spelled out her plan without needing the help of her words to which you adorably and pathetically blushed at upon realization.

“n-not everything is perfectly planned… i mean, this really wasn’t how i wanted to spend our last night here together! i was going to take you to the nearby town, have a candlelit dinner with the prettiest view of the frozen river and the snowy mountains, and… i was going to give you a—”

“—a necklace, right?” wonyoung cuts you off. (on the night you found out that the necklace was nowhere to be found, wonyoung was woken up by the sounds of your frustrated and heartbroken rants to one of your friends over the phone. you had no idea she heard everything. she made sure to hold you extra tight when you returned to bed in hopes of making you feel better. and naturally, it worked.) you pouted as you nod your head, once again feeling sad about how careless you were on the day you both set off on your vacation.

“i couldn’t believe i forgot to grab it… and i didn’t realize that i never brought it with us until yesterday! so you can imagine the stress i was under this entire day while i tried to set this all up!” you sighed deeply after your little rant. you pulled wonyoung close, putting your head in her chest as she consoled you. she couldn’t hold her laughter due to the sheer amount of cuteness aggression she was feeling over your whining, but she made sure to pat your back and kiss the top of your head.

“that explains why you abruptly left me by myself in the skating rink this afternoon! and why you came back all disheveled and out of breath! oh, unnie…” wonyoung only laughs harder when you tighten your hold around her waist—you were clearly embarrassed by your antics from earlier, but wonyoung thinks it’s so cute. you were older and wiser than her, but there are days where your childish and adorable side slips out and wonyoung thinks it’s so, so charming. and the way you don’t realize it makes it all ten times better. makes you ten times more… desirable. irresistible.

wonyoung starts to kiss you from your forehead, your nose, your cheek, your jawline… until she finally reaches your neck where she liked to just take you in and relish at how you shuddered at her actions, “necklace or not, the night would have ended up exactly the same… you did all this for me, and i would love to do things for you in return. many things.” you don’t realize that she reached behind you and undid the perfect ribbons she herself tied up for you. not until you felt her fingers drag across your now exposed skin while simultaneously giving your neck the softest kisses you’ve ever received.

“will you let me?”

she didn’t even need to ask. and she didn’t need to hear an answer from you. kissing her with never-before-seen passion was enough of a confirmation from you. wonyoung appreciates how you always allowed her to have control whenever things escalated. both of you knew you were too clueless about all this, but fortunately wonyoung wasn’t.

and thank heavens for that.

wonyoung tugs gently on your hair with one hand and holds your jaw tightly with the other, deepening the kiss, practically shoving her tongue inside your mouth and establishing dominance early on just because she so loves feeling the moment you submit to her. it happens when your shoulders relax, your hands fall on her thighs, and your hips desperately grind towards hers to quench your thirst. it’s a massive ego boost and if it wasn’t for you, wonyoung would feed on it until it consumed her… but she doesn’t allow that to happen. not anymore.

you deserve the utmost care and love and that was what she wanted to give you. what she will give you.

“mmhn.. wonyoung…” who would’ve thought that the brilliant young actress that the entire nation adores for her kind heart, bright-as-the-stars smile and unrivaled poise would elicit such sounds for a lover? but then again, jang wonyoung is not just any lover, is she?

wonyoung pulls your top over your head and tosses it elsewhere. she refused to believe that it was the wine that made you look a thousand times more delectable than usual, but rather, she accepted that you were just that stunning. with your hair unkempt in the most perfect way, your lip tint a mess on your face, chest heaving up and down, eyes clouded with longing… and the cherry on top? seeing that you were wearing the bra that wonyoung got you a few months back.

the younger girl bites her bottom lip at the sight, “please, have some patience.” whether wonyoung said that to you or to her very own hunger for you was unclear. she repositions herself so that she was now on all fours, her lips attached to yours once again but now… you had her hands on her. you wanted to feel her skin on yours, but wonyoung had plans of her own. she ignores your needy whines and your desperate attempts to undress her with great difficulty and continues on making a mess of your mind using her lips alone.

eventually, you were sitting on the couch while wonyoung was on her knees in front of you. your bra had been cast aside as well, leaving you fully topless. what a sight to behold, really. wonyoung spots a faint hickey on your collarbone, the one that she remembers putting there herself when she couldn’t help it after you both arrived at the lodge. there was another one on your shoulder which looked a lot more recent—that was from when she dragged you into the shower with her two days ago, and she was particularly proud of that one too!

you held wonyoung’s stare as her hand traveled slowly from your chest to your stomach. she was teasing you. enticing you to make a desperate action just so she can shut it down and hear you beg… but you know her game, and you don’t feel like playing it this time. besides, she asked you to ‘have some patience’! you weren’t one to disobey when she asked so nicely.

lifting your hips, wonyoung successfully got your shorts off of you and left them to fall at your ankles. “aww, you’re all ready for me.” wonyoung said smugly, staring at the wet spot on your underwear. add that to the list of things wonyoung finds so adorable about you; you can get riled up so easily, it’s sometimes unbelievable. and yet, you were never too needy and would rather wait for wonyoung to initiate something. she almost hated how patient you can really be, but hey, she was the one who asked for it!

“a-are you sure we should be doing this without closing the c-curtains—i mean, what if someone… some…” your words trail off, having been distracted with the way wonyoung gently presses her fingertips against your clothed clit and rubs very slow circles on it. and all of a sudden you didn’t care anymore. the mild shrubbery in front of the lodge was enough of a cover, you suppose.

“hm? what was that, unnie?”

“nothing.. noth—ah!” you squeak after wonyoung unexpectedly pressed hard on your clit, but cover your mouth immediately. but it’s not like anyone would hear, anyway. all of the other lodges are quite a distance away and you would have to be screaming for them to hear you and that, wonyoung feels, is quite timely because that was exactly what she wanted to do. as if it wasn’t obvious already, wonyoung has been a lot more head-over-heels for you than usual. she truly believes that she was falling in love with you all over again and the last time that happened, wonyoung had to run after you as you were leaving an event just to tell you about all about the feelings she has had for you. of course, that led to the wonderful relationship you have now… but just what else can wonyoung do this time?

“come here.” she pulls you in for a kiss. it was softer this time but it wasn’t any less passionate than the last. it almost felt like a reminder that even though her heart was on fire, wonyoung will still take care of you and you know what? that was basically the only reassurance that you needed to completely submit.

soon enough, your panties joined the pile of your clothes on the ground. wonyoung had started attacking your neck, her lips latching onto every inch of your skin and leaving lovely red marks in her wake. you’d tell her to be careful not to make them too red, or not to leave too much if it didn’t feel so good, if the way wonyoung’s fingers wasn’t so distracting with just how much she was teasing you. oh, to hell with it—you start grinding against her hand, paying no mind to how wonyoung couldn’t help but break into a smile while she worked her lips down to your chest. she wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you as close as you can be to her before catching one of your nipples in her mouth.

your hands dig through wonyoung’s beautiful hair while your moans fill the warm, empty air. it was getting harder and harder to pay attention to anything at this point. all you can hear was wonyoung’s soft moans and heavy breathing, and it reminded you of how much you would have loved to switch roles and please her yourself, but wonyoung was sweet enough to take charge and you need this. “mmn… mommy, open up for me… please?” the younger girl whispered against your skin. you lift one leg up, giving wonyoung all the access she wanted and more.

you leaned further back on the cushions of the couch as wonyoung inserted two fingers inside you. she was slow, careful. she always gave you chances to back out if you didn’t feel comfortable enough to do any of this with her. and once she knew that you truly wanted this, she allowed herself to relax and start her work. although, her steady pace didn’t last long—each second that passed, she only thrusted faster, wanting to hear you moan over and over again. she kept glancing up from your chest, looking at your expressions and smiling to herself while she alternated between sucking on your tits and leaving marks all over them. not having had enough of it all, you started rocking your hips towards the younger girl’s hand, desperately chasing after even more pleasure.

occasionally, wonyoung would wince at how hard you tugged at her hair. she knows you don’t do it on purpose and she does like it, plus it gives her reason to, say, ‘get back at you’ by biting your skin and making you wince. and it was when she bit on your collarbone that you moaned her name wonderfully. pride surges within wonyoung. more, she wanted, and faster she went. her fingers reached deeper than they ever have before and out of your mouth came sounds wonyoung was hearing for the first time, so she kept it up.

“tell me,” wonyoung says. you hear her, but you don’t respond. “am i doing goo—mmpf!” you silenced wonyoung by quickly pulling her hair and crashing your lips together. your free hand clutches on her shoulders for dear life, your nails digging into the skin exposed by her off-shoulder blouse.

“yes…! hmnn… you’re being so good, love…” you answered as your lips briefly parted hers. wonyoung, overwhelmed by adrenaline, moans at the praise. she was soaking wet herself; her core ached for attention and your praises, your lips, and your tightness wasn’t making anything easy for her. but oh, sweet and selfless wonyoung wouldn’t stop pleasing you just as you’re about to reach your climax just so she can get off instead. she hides her face on the crook of your neck, now stimulating your clit with her thumb and driving you into a frenzy.

“i love you so much, unnie… i’ll make it up to you properly later on but—hah… but for now,” wonyoung releases your waist from her hold and places her hand behind your other thigh before pushing your leg back. “cum for me.” she mutters right against your ear. a shiver runs down your spine before you succumb and the knot in your stomach breaks. wonyoung held you as you came, trying her very hardest not to cum with you because not only will that be embarrassing but also because surely you would tease her for cumming untouched!

wonyoung pulled her fingers out of you once you were calm again. you smile at her as you didn’t have the energy to speak just yet… nor did you have the energy to do anything else at all. while wonyoung was busy cleaning up her fingers (using her mouth, naturally), you just so happened to notice that she had her legs closed a bit too tightly, and her face was flushed way beyond normal. and then, you knew. your poor, darling angel needed you too!

you went on to move yourself back down on the mattress on the floor, then, you took a hold of wonyoung’s sleeve and pulled her down with you as you lay yourself down on your back. wonyoung was confused, albeit being totally into whatever you were planning. it was when you slid a leg in between her thighs and pressed it against her throbbing core that she knew. and oh, was she ready.

you tucked wonyoung’s hair behind her ear, and warmth blooms inside your chest when she smiles at you, “let’s make this night last, wonyoung-ah.” you mumbled as you placed a soft kiss on her nose.

“whatever you want, my love.”

well, turns out you really didn’t need that necklace, after all.

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rainytrashh · 1 day ago

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In the Lab…

Fic type-> NSFW + Drabble

Tags-> Sub Jayce, bottom jayce, degrading kink, kinda exhibitionism? both parties get off on getting caught, gn reader but they have smth to fuck him with whatever that might be lol, choking

Word count-> 705, about two pages of a book

AN-> I’m alive it’s a miracle! Anyways there’s not enough sub or bottom jayce fics just saying 🤷‍♀️. And as always, requests open!

AO3 | Masterlist

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It was Jayce’s idea. Not yours.

Honestly, blowing his back out in the lab wasn’t really what you had in mind when you said you wanted to try something new. It’s not like you hadn’t done it before- just this time it was in his lab, over his workbench, scarily close to the door. It didn’t help that Jayce didn’t know how to shut up during sex.

“Yes, yes- fuck!”

You apply more pressure against his wrists held behind his back, pressing him further into metal workbench- a silent warning.

“Jayce.” A hushed tone compared to his strained cries.

“‘m sorry, jus’ too good…”

You tug his trousers further down his ass since his loose belt buckle was clinking against the bench with every thrust.

You glance towards the door.

“Gah- god-“

You watch as his face distorts into one of pleasure as you’d just adjusted the angle of your movements.

“If you don’t know how to shut up-“

“Make me.”

His comment surprised you, he didn’t sound bratty when he said it. And no, he’s too good to disobey you. He sounded desperate for it. Like he needed you to keep him under control, even if he was perfectly capable of keeping quiet himself.

So you lean in, and let your breath caress his tanned shoulder blades.

“Oh, is that what this is all about then huh? Riling me up, teasing me?”

He hesitates before he answers,

“…no, please that’s… it’s not-“

You hook your hand over his mouth, only muffling his moans to your disappointment. He felt a jolt of electricity shoot down to his dick, smearing more pre against the underside of the workbench.

“This is what you wanted isn’t it? Getting me to slut you out in the lab in hopes of, what- getting caught?”

He could only moan into your hand as you pull him up so his head rests on your shoulder, his hair splaying out across it.

“You’re such a whore, who are you imagining walking through that door right now huh?”

You turn your head towards his ear letting your breath hit it, eyes flitting up briefly. You only grin.

“Is it Mel? Or perhaps Viktor?”

You let go of his mouth and instead opting for his neck to hold onto for leverage.

“Both-“

“Both? And what would they do if they saw you like this? Man Of Progress against his own workbench, taking dick like a bitch huh?”

Jayce can’t help but groan at the idea, someone so close to him walking in on such a scene.

“Come on, what would they do…”

You grip his hip harshly to re-adjust your position slightly, his mouth drops open and his now free hands flailing to try to bring you ever closer to him. You know you hit the spot with each thrust too when he stammers before he replies.

“I-I don’t know-“

“I think they’d like it, someone finally having the guts to fuck all that arrogance out of you.”

As you talk you sneak in kisses along his jawline and neck, even leaving one dark mark along the side of his neck.

He whimpers and squeezes his eyes shut, imagining Mel’s and Viktor’s sneering faces. Perhaps they’d be muttering between each other as they stare at him like he’s a common whore.

“Just- fuck- I’m gonna cum.”

“You gonna cum ‘round my cock and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“Please, please let me cum- I’ll be-“

“Good? You gonna be good if I let you cum?”

“Mmhmmm…”

“Well… go on, be a good boy and cum for me.”

Like the flick of a switch he arches his back into you and cums across the underside of his workbench, your final few thrusts making it smear all along his dick afterwards.

You feel him go fairly pliant against you as his heavy breathing gets gradually slower, his eyelids slip closed.

You simply smile as you hold his jaw and tilt it away from you. He lets it loll to the side like you want as he pries his eyes open.

Of course Mel and Viktor are standing in the doorway, and of course they both look rather flustered.

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sweetflanfiction · 2 days ago

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Assymetrical Symphony - Part 13

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know.

A.N: I'm back!!! Some trigger warnings: death mentioned and some medical stuff (probable inacuracies).

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10 • Part 11 • Part 12

• ··········· • ············ •

The council met two days after Jayce found Viktor and yourself inside the closet. Two long days of having the big, broad man teasing both of you to hide his own anxiety.

At the beginning of the second day, in the afternoon, Jayce, Viktor, Esther, and most of the investors your mother had rallied had been called to the brightly lit council chamber. You, however, were barred as soon as you tried to get in, the enforcer by the door giving you a sardonic grin when he placed a hand on your shoulder and gently pushed you away. Your mother was about to protest, but you shook your head and watched the double doors close on you.

With a sigh, you walked back to the lab. You took your time, pleasurably walking around the Academy until you arrived at your destination.

The glove came off as soon as you got to the lab's floor, and the door unlocked with a flick of your wrist, the rune spoken without thinking about it.

The lab was mostly clean, and you knew that it was because of the council's constant inspection that it had been organized. You sat on Viktor’s worktable, careful not to disturb anything. He had some books on magic scattered with his own notes and writing utensils. After a few minutes of twirling around on his stool, you thought your time would be better spent learning about your power.

The books had different thicknesses and a variety of covers. Some looked antique, leather-bound, and gold-foiled, while others looked more modern with hardcovers and simpler designs. One caught your attention, mostly because Viktor had left a note stuck on it with your name underlined.

'Read!'

The small couch behind the blackboard seemed like the perfect place to read it. Pushing the blackboard out of the way, you grabbed Viktor’s blanket and sat down.

The inventor had already read the book, you noted by the little remarks he had added in little sticky notes.

‘More than one language?’ ‘Prefixes and suffixes. Try.’ 'Curse words? Cursing runes?’ 'Are the runes a foreign language?' 'Do runes have accents?'

You laughed quietly at the annotations. Sitting quietly in the lab was always a peaceful experience. The muffled sounds of the people in the corridors and the soft whooshing of airships going around were soothing. Familiar.

Time ticked by as you read until you found yourself closing your eyes at the words. Shaking your head, you decided to try some new things with the runes.

If runes were similar to words, then they could be combined to make sentences. You looked around the room for inspiration, and your eyes fell on the locked hex-core storage. You knew the cores and gems were either in the council chamber or in Heimerdinger's locked office, now a sort of secure room since he had disappeared.

Not waiting for someone to walk in on you with a blue hand, you grabbed Viktor's colored sticky notepad and wrote the 'unlock' and 'move' rune. Before you could flick the rune with a finger, the locked door slammed against the wall.

“That’s new…” You frowned, determined to try and close the door and lock it from where you sat.

You made the moving rune again, added the little coda signal next to it, and pulled. The door closed with a click. Still unlocked, though.

It didn't take you long to go through half of the notepad trying to decode what you should add to relock the door, and nothing worked.

“Fine…be that way…” you grumbled as you got up and walked to Viktor’s shoulder bag on the coat hanger, grabbed his lab keys, walked to the door, and locked it. As you were walking back from dropping the keys back in the bag, the lab's door opened. For a moment you were confused, not having used any magic, but then Viktor’s handsome face peeked through.

“I thought I told you not to enter the lab without supervision.” He warned without menace in his voice.

“According to my mom, I own 2% of this lab, and I decided that this couch is just that. My 2%.” You joked, getting back to the warmth of the blanket on the couch.

He walked inside, closing the door as he made his way to you, a mocking, pensive expression on his face.

“I guess that is fair. Still does not explain why you are inside the lab.” He got to the couch and moved his index finger around, mentioning the room. "Unsupervised."

“Well, I need access to my 2%, don’t I?”

He rolled his eyes dramatically and sat next to you, leaning his cane on the arm of the couch and his shoulders on the back of it. Without thinking, you covered his legs with the wool blanket, patting his knees.

Viktor looked at you with a raised eyebrow, and you shrugged, trying to look nonchalant at the friendly move.

“Has the council session ended?” You asked, clearing your throat and closing the book. He shook his head. “Shouldn’t you be there?”

“Whenever Salo starts throwing personal jabs at me about where I’m from, I know whatever discussion was being had is over.”

“Yeah… stain on the hexgate floor…” you whispered, and he raised his eyebrows. “And how did the discussion end?”

“The council agreed to let the Tallis Lab operate as is... under supervision for a while, but they aren’t going to interfere with it.” He played with the hem of the blanket and shook his head. “Esther was a force of nature in that room tonight. For a moment I thought she was going to start casting runes and making the table float.”

You snorted and leaned against the arm of the couch, looking at his profile. Viktor always had a striking profile, with high cheekbones and a sharp jaw.

“Did she ever tell you how we became friends?” He looked at the opposite wall, and you shook your head, making a negative sound.

“All she told me was that you and she had similar interests.”

“About… mmm… 11 years ago, before Jayce and Hextech, Professor Heimerdinger thought it was a good idea to give the engineering students something creative to do. So he asked Esther to come and give our analytical little brains some writing classes.”

“Aren’t you an inventor, though?” You tilted your head sideways to lean against the back of the couch; he nodded.

“I still think in numbers... It's different…Anyway, she would teach one class every two weeks. At first, I did not enjoy it; I could be studying or working, but at some point, I started to like it. My brain would go to these faraway places and imagine all of the things that, back then, were impossible. At some point your mother let us know her opinions of the Undercity, and after class, we spent a good two hours just speaking about it.”

“She does like to talk.” You joked, and he looked at you smiling.

“That she does, especially if she likes the subject. For one whole year, every two weeks I would be the first one in and the last one out. Sometimes she would let me read some of her manuscripts and ask for an honest review; other times I let her read my own school papers.”

“Wouldn’t that be cheating? Having an actual writer proofread your papers?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I was an Undercity boy, with an Undercity accent and a limp. I was taking any help I could get.” He shrugged, and you snorted. “One day she didn’t show up. I asked Professor Heimerdinger, and he said something awful had happened to her and her family.”

Immediately you straightened up, eyes wide in curiosity. If his math was correct, and it was, this was about the same time engraved on the stone at the cemetery.

“I knew she had a husband and a child about my age. There was never an opportunity for me to meet them, but still, whatever had happened, I wanted to show my solidarity. So, poor young Viktor walked all the way to the penthouse, and once he got there, Voltaire told poor young Viktor she was at the Skyward Clinic."He sighed, looking at his hands, flexing and relaxing his long fingers. "A trolley had derailed. Her husband had died on the route to the clinic. Her child seemed to be in a very precarious state.”

The buzzing in your ears started to drown out anything but Viktor's particular speech pattern. The corner of your eyes started to tunnel around him. Your breathing started to become elaborate as you tried to hide your restlessness.

It had never seemed to be the right opportunity to ask your mother how it happened. She had mentioned the accident but never in specifics, and you respected her need to keep it to herself. People grieve in their own way.

Your father could never pass by the hospital your mother had died in, even though he would make generous donations to it. But he would always take the long way if the quickest path passed by it.

“I had little money to spend on frivolous things like trolleys, so I walked all the way back to Skyward…” He made his fingers do a little walking motion in the air.

“That’s on the opposite side of the city.”

“It is.”

“And you walked there?”

“I did.” He nodded, his own eyes focusing on something on the floor, his mind tracing the memory.

“Your leg... your back...” You were about to start to complain about his recklessness, but he snorted.

“My lungs.”

“Your lungs?” This was the first time he had mentioned them.

“They took the brunt of my stupidity and my lack of funds." He gave a humorless snort and took a deep breath. "Everything collapsed as soon as my brain figured out how much strain I had put on my body."

He tilted his head to you but didn't look up from whatever it was that he was focused on on the floor.

"Do you know what the gray is?" He asked.

"Yes."

"Do you know what it does after long-term exposure to it?"

The question wasn't out of the blue, because of the subject being discussed and the person it was being discussed with. However, it hit you like a rush of cold water. You didn't know what it did personally, but you'd seen it on someone else. You'd seen it on his other dimension twin.

"Yes." You couldn't look at him.

"The respiratory system starts to rot. According to the doctors, I would be dead in about five to six years. But Esther…”

You remembered the day your Viktor had announced his own diagnosis. He had used those exact words, but the years were shortened to months.

That day had been seared into your brain. The way his voice sounded so strong and yet so broken, and he hadn’t allowed you to shed a single tear, even though they were flowing. ‘Save them for when I’m gone.’.

Your eyes filled with unshed tears now that he wasn't here to see them fall.

“I don’t know how, or even when, but I distinctly remember your mother holding my hand and crying by my bedside table. She said to me..." He cleaned a tear of his own, with the tip of his fingers. “She said nobody else’s child would be dying that night.”

It was like the air in your body had been sucked out. It held in your throat as your eyes widened.

“The doctors said we were a perfect match." He sighed, his eyebrow furrowing. "From blood type to size to the age of the donor. The chances of my body accepting the donated organ were above 80%. And Esther allowed it. And I survived.”

You gasped and followed his hand, which was now tracing a line of his diaphragm gingerly.

“There’s a scar right here…” He tapped his fingers in the lower part of his chest. “A reminder that death is sometimes inevitable for life to happen."

Viktor sniffled, closing his eyes, his hand still on his chest as it rose and fell with each breath.

"After that, we became inseparable. I will never be able to thank her for what she did, and if there is ever anything I can do to repay it, I will do it.”

There was silence now in the lab. The words he had spoken kept swimming freely in your head, fading into images of another Viktor coughing up blood and slowly succumbing to his illness.

You felt your body move on its own accord, your mental state not providing the necessary filters for you to stop yourself.

Viktor jumped when he felt your palm on top of his, on his chest, but didn't move away. You felt his breathing even out and even felt his little sniffles.

“You’re not dying.” You whispered more to his other self than this one, as if somewhere in the other timeline your Viktor could hear you.

“I am not.” Viktor whispered back, moving his hand so your own was flat against the fabric of his uniform.

You touched his shoulder with your forehead, a hand still on his chest, and you sobbed. There was sadness and anger and happiness and confusion; it was a convoluted mix of emotions that you couldn’t stop.

You were ecstatic that this Viktor was free from his impending doom, but you felt like your heart was breaking because your Viktor, the one you had loved and lost, could have been saved, could have had this.

Hindsight was indeed 20/20. This type of procedure has never been given a thought. Although something told you the Viktor you knew would never go for it. He had already accepted his fate. His death.

You kept asking yourself: Had you known then what you know now, not just about the Herald but about the possibility of you giving him a chance, would you accept it? Would you give your life for him? If you could?

Sadly, you didn’t know the answer to that. In a second of insanity, you just might, but if you had more time to think, the answer was not as clear.

And that confused you and angered you.

You noticed his hand on top of your own, his thumb gently stroking the back of it. You stiffen, finally realizing where and how you were placed. Half on top of his torso, your forehead on his shoulders, hand on his chest.

Quickly you moved your body away from his.

“Sorry…I... You tried to clean your face with the back of your hands.

“It is expected. Aside from this..." He pointed to the hand he still held on his chest, and you quickly moved it away. "Jayce's reaction was sort of the same...”

“Sorry…It’s…huh…hard, I guess.”

“Matters of life and death often are.” He looked at you, his eyes softening.

Your mind jumped to when you asked if she would choose you or Viktor in case of need and how her answer was immediately him. Since the subject was saving Piltover, it made sense she didn’t hesitate, but now…now you understood it more deeply. He had a part of her child in him. She would save him not just because of the future but also because of what he meant to her.

“Esther... she...” you said, accepting the burgundy handkerchief he was offering you. “She's very brave...”

Viktor smiled brightly even if his cheeks still had tears in them, and you did the same, seeing him as a completely different person for the first time since you got here.

Nature made them equal; nurture made them opposites.

• ············ •

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked your mother as soon as you were both alone in the penthouse.

“About?” she asked, going around the kitchen, having decided at 11 at night to make cupcakes.

“Viktor and the surgery.”

She stopped abruptly and looked at you as you sat quietly in the breakfast nook of the kitchen. You made a conscious effort not to show or sound angry, because you weren’t.

“I…Did he tell you that?” You nodded, and she leaned her hip into the counter, looking at a point in the distance. “It was a burden that I didn’t think you’d need.”

She sighed, coming to sit on the opposite side of the table with a deep breath.

“Sometimes I still struggle with the decision I made. My child was gone, and he was there, lying on a hospital bed filled with tubes and machines, and…it became such an easy decision to make back then… I sometimes wonder if she would think less of me because of that...”

“I’m sorry.” You grabbed her shaking hand after a few minutes of silence. “I…don’t know if it means anything, but…as your child from another dimension, I don’t think I could ever think less of you.”

Esther smiled at you and extended a hand to touch your cheek. You took a deep breath and waited. Her touch was warm and gentle, her thumb stroking the top of your cheekbone, and you felt a kiss on your knuckles.

“Thank you, my dear. It means the world to me.” She whispered.

• ··········· • ············ •

@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa @moons-lighttrail @aysluxe @fae-doodle @kitewa @local-mr-frog @bakusquadobsessed @cherry-cola-100 @optimistic-but-very-realistic @seeksrsnn @thecordelialetters @notsaelty @lansy-4 @ayupfrogg @sammypotato @wnbrw @lucycarlisleswife @noxturnalmoth @ren-ren23 @furblrwurblr @kapitankarate @mynicknameisgasoline @octo-octopie @birbwithhat @kneelarmhstrung @dedicated2viktor @elvishstudies

#arcane #viktor #arcane viktor #viktor x reader #arcane x reader #viktor arcane #viktor arcane x reader #slow burn #viktor x you #viktor x y/n #arcane viktor x reader #viktor league of legends #arcane season 2 #arcane x you #arcane characters #arcane reader

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bruhstories · 6 hours ago

Text

Bet I

p.2?

summary: in-ho got a cat, and he needs a cat sitter while he is away on his business trip. who knew that meeting you would turn into a bet, a philosophy of what is moral and what is not? pairing: hwang in-ho/the front man x civilian!reader warnings & content: age gap, afab!reader, slightly detailed descriptions of reader's background for plot purposes, red text for in-ho, purple for reader, few mentions of Y/N (again, for plot purposes) w/c: 2.2k

a/n: i have no idea how many chapters this will have, but i'm trying to write each chapter for each day of the games. it'll all make sense at the end lol. i tried to do as much research about seoul and south korea in general, so please be gentle! i'm just an eastern european gal

tagging: @full-sunnies @xodilfluvr

In-ho got a cat — a green-eyed, silver-tipped Korat he named Eunjoo. He thought about getting a dog, but dogs were high-maintenance, loyal and loving, and his job didn't allow him a loving pet. It didn't allow him to get attached to humans or animals. But Eunjoo was aloof and independent, and only rubbed against his leg when she wanted food. She refused to be handled and rarely played with the toys In-ho got her, but the cat was a necessary soul in his empty penthouse. It still wasn't enough to fill the hole in his blackened heart, but it was better than coming home to nothing and no one.

Trouble came when In-ho had to leave for eight days for the 32nd Squid Game. He quite obviously couldn't bring Eunjoo with him, and he couldn't let her starve, either. Not only that, but her litter boxes had to be cleaned regularly, and she needed fresh water daily, which left him with only one option — getting a cat sitter, as stupid as that sounded. In-ho felt ridiculous typing the post on a website for dog-walkers and pet sitters, but he did it nonetheless.

Businessman going on an eight day trip. In need of an experienced person to do home visits twice a day for my Eunjoo. 30,000 won per day. Based in Gangnam-gu, Seoul.

He attached a picture of the cat along with his email, and waited. There was enough time to select a sitter before he left, and he browsed several profiles of pet sitters. Most of them had fantastic reviews, but asked for more money. Typical, In-ho thought. How typical for people to ask for more than necessary. It wasn't as though he wasn't willing to pay more — he had enough money, and would gladly spend it on Eunjoo — but it was the greed that disgusted him. The audacity to ask for 70,000 won a day to feed a cat and change her water was insane.

In-ho closed his laptop and left it on his coffee table in the living room, then walked into the kitchen to feed Eunjoo. She came from her hideout at the sound of a can opening, cautious of her surroundings, then rubbed her head against In-ho's leg, patiently waiting for her food. The cat didn't immediately eat. Instead, Eunjoo waited for her owner to sit down and have his dinner, and the corners of his mouth turned into a half-smile. Better than most people, In-ho thought. She wasn't greedy, she was understanding in ways some humans couldn't be. And so, he reheated yesterday's bulgogi and sat down with a side of freshly cooked rice. Only then did Eunjoo eat her dinner, checking on him from time to time to make sure he was also eating.

Ding!

His phone lit up with a notification. In-ho unlocked it and opened the email he had just received from a pet sitter.

Good evening, sir! My name is Y/L/N Y/N and I would like to meet Eunjoo. I live in Guryong Village and can take the bus to Gangnam-gu whenever you need me to, as I am quite flexible with my schedule, but I need to be completely transparent with you. I've only taken care of my cousin's cat over summer, so I am not the experienced sitter you are looking for, but I am asking you to please give me a chance. Have a good evening!

In-ho scoffed at the words on his screen. He was specifically looking for someone with experience, but he appreciated the honesty. It was a rare trait nowadays, and he was a fair man who gave everyone equal chances. It was the root of his job, after all.

Tomorrow morning, 9 o'clock, Bongeunsa-ro 103-gil, across the street from Shinhan Bank. I'll pick you up from downstairs. Don't be late.

The clack of your heels irked you as you hurried down the street from the bus stop to the address provided by the cat owner. It was a sound you weren't used to, but you needed to make a good impression when lacking experience. People all around you were dressed in expensive suits and dresses, clothes you could only dream of wearing, and the cars that swerved across your path, nearly running you over, looked like they cost as much as your house. It wasn't the first time you walked around Gangnam-gu, but it was the first time you spent more than five minutes surrounded by people who lived lavishly while you survived on Samyang Hot Chicken Ramen Stew.

And yet, you wouldn't trade your instant noodles for samgyeopsal or bossam if it meant selling your soul. Because that was the price to pay for riches and luxury, wasn't it? No, you would make ends meet somehow and live an honest life without becoming a coldhearted monster, just like your father taught you.

You checked that the address in the email matched your location, and waited for someone to talk to you, unsure how they would even recognise you. Although, on second thought, the thin, flimsy cotton of your dress and loose threads around the hem were a dead giveaway that you didn't belong in Gangnam-gu. You didn’t belong amongst the rich.

"Excuse me, Miss Y/L/N?"

Turning on your heels, you were met by the darkest eyes you had ever seen, eyes that looked as though they had both witnessed and committed unspeakable atrocities. And yet, there was a strange remorse in them. The man looked around 45 years old but not a single gray hair on his head, which was ironic, because you probably had more white strands hidden in your locks. Your gaze darted down at his extended hand, and you shook it while bowing down as a sign of respect.

"You must be Mr. Hwang. I can't thank you enough for agreeing to meet with me. I promise I won't let you down if you give me a chance!"

Oh, you were a talker. In-ho had met your kind before, aimlessly sleepwalking through life, serving no greater purpose except for entertaining those who rid the world of gamblers, addicts, beggars and thieves. Not that you were in any of those categories — In-ho didn't know you that well yet — but the way you presented yourself made him think you would have made a suitable player in the game.It was too late to recruit you now. Perhaps next year, if you made it that far.

You followed Mr. Hwang into the elevator, surprised that it wasn't stopping until reaching the last floor of the building, and when the doors opened, they revealed a small hallway with just one apartment. He had no neighbours above or around him, and you couldn’t begin to imagine how lonely it must've been. Surely his wife or girlfriend kept him company, or perhaps he had children — In-ho did look old enough to be your father.

He unlocked the multiple locks on his door — he must have been really rich — and invited you in. For a moment, a split second, you wondered if you had made a mistake coming there. The man could be a serial killer for all you knew, and with almost no neighbours, who would even hear you scream? You heard stories about wealthy people who took pleasure in hurting others. The lack of pictures of a wife or children only strengthened that doubt, but the intrusive thought soon dissipated when, from the corner of your eye, you spotted a silver tail hanging from a dining chair.

Paying no mind to the tall double fridge, or the black U shaped velvet sofa that could fit your entire extended family, or even the view from his floor-to-ceiling windows, you kicked off the uncomfortable heels and got down on all fours, crawling closer to Eunjoo before sitting on the tiled floor with your legs crossed. It caught In-ho completely off guard — unpredictability was something that bothered him. Usually when he brought girls over they would bombard him with a million questions about his job, his car, his clothes, his bank account. You didn't, and it both infuriated and intrigued him. But then again, he brought you there with a different purpose.

"What are you doing exactly?" In-ho circled around you like a hawk, watching you intently.

"I've read that it's better to allow cats to familiarise themselves with people instead of forcing affection onto them." You sat still, chin tilted upwards to look at him with innocence in your eyes. "I may not be experienced, sir, but I did my research."

He wasn't particularly impressed by your research skills, not even when Eunjoo jumped from the chair and walked around you, curious yet apprehensive. One paw hovered above the floor in mid-air, and her tail was lowered, almost touching the ground, as the cat slowly and cautiously approached you, sniffing the hand you extended.

"So, what do you do for a living?" You broke the spell, not on Eunjoo but on In-ho, who was watching you try to befriend his cat. He hadn't realised he had been staring for longer than he should have until you spoke with disinterest in your voice. You didn't really care what his job was.

"Business." He simply said and you chuckled at his response. "Something funny?"

"I'm sorry, I just thought it would be nice to make small talk while we wait for Eunjoo to get comfortable." You shrugged. "But it's fine if you don't want to talk about that, sir."

Sir. It sounded so different coming from you and not one of his subordinates at the facility. In-ho quietly pulled a chair from under the table and sat down, but Eunjoo had finished inspecting you. She lifted her tail, the tip curled — a sign of playfulness — and you scratched her chin.

"Good girl, Eunjoo! I'm sorry, I don't have any treats." You sat up after the cat lost interest in you and hid behind the sofa.

"So you're inexperienced and unprepared." His voice was cold and judgemental and you lowered your head in shame.

"I'm really sorry, sir. I don't have a great financial situation, that's why I need this job. I can water plants and clean the house, I can even do your laundry and iron your shirts, and I don't want any extra money, just the payment for cat sitting." You sounded so desperate it was pathetic. "Please."

The last bit of your sentence was what caught In-ho's attention. No extra money? Who in their right minds wouldn’t charge more for additional services? Were you planning on stealing from him while he was away? Not that it mattered — he'd find you and kill you upon his return from the island if you did. However, he found it to be an interesting game, a bet of sorts. You would win if you were honest for all eight days. He would win if you stole from him and abused his kindness.

"You're hired." In-ho nodded, the look of surprise mixed with gratitude on your face making him feel like some sort of god.

"I swear you won't be disappointed in me, sir. I'll leave the house spotless every day, and I will take good care of Eunjoo!" You nodded eagerly, beaming at him.

"I know you will. She takes breakfast at 7 and dinner at 9, and there is an automatic feeder set at 2 pm for lunch." He explained and you took your phone out to quickly take notes. "Make sure you change her water in the morning and at night, and scoop her litter boxes every time you're here."

"...scoop the poop twice a day. Got it." You mumbled while typing. "Do I give her wet food in the mornings and evenings?"

"Yes, and please check that the automatic feeder is stocked. You will find all her cans and kibble in this cupboard." In-ho walked into the kitchen and showed you where Eunjoo's food was. There was more cat food in that cupboard than you had in your house.

"Perfect. Where is the bin room located?"

"Underground. The code is 456654."

"Thank you, Mr. Hwang! I won't let you down. Oh, I should give you my phone number, right?" You asked, feeling a bit awkward for being so straightforward.

"Whatever would I need your number for?" He almost laughed.

"How else would you see Eunjoo?"

"Right. Forgot about that." In-ho scratched the back of his head. He couldn't exactly tell you that there were cameras everywhere in his house.

"Two more questions. Am I allowed to play music or movies on your TV and could I take a shower after cleaning? I'm bringing spare clothes and my own towel and soap."

"Yes, of course you can. Please help yourself to anything you need. I trust you'll figure out how the coffee machine or dishwasher work." He nodded.

"Yeah, I'll figure it out." You lied. You had never used a dishwasher before.

"Great. I leave in three days. Please be here the day after my departure. Here's the spare key."

"Thank you, sir!" You bowed and walked to the door to put your shoes back on. "Good luck on your trip!"

"Thank you, miss. Good luck to you, too."

The bet was placed, the game was on.

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ihaznoclue · 1 day ago

Note

Hiii I would like to request Shadow the hedgehog with an alien!reader. They look human but have an ability that resembles light and glitter? If that makes sense lol

(If you can, could it be a stranger’s 2 lovers? If you only do platonic that’s fine! Reader would be also be on Sonic’s side and living with the trio)

Pairings -> Shadow the Hedgehog x Alien Reader

Warnings -> None

Note -> Reader is a alien who looks like a human but have the ability that resembles light and glitter

Genre -> Fluff [Strangers to Lovers]

Shadow The Hedgehog

You're both aliens at this point

But you were more human looking which is a good thing as people never seem to like aliens

You were like a alien that could disguise as a human but could resemble light and glitter

Which is a weird thing that most people might think but you think it is cool

Ever since you came to earth, you never knew the interesting things you might see on the way

But sometimes it is always tough as things may happen out of the blue

After a few years of being in this world called Earth you never realised you would find the most kindest people

The Wachowski

They took you in as one of them as they already had some company

A Hedgehog, A fox and a Echidna

They all looked so adorable to you

Sonic being the first one to introduce himself as they other did so too

Now you guys were all like a big happy family

But not everything turns out happy in the end

Sonic and his friends seemed to be caught in a mission

You missed them dearly, but the Wachowskis thought they could bring you to london to take on this mission with them as they need all the help they could get

That was until you saw HIM

Shadow the hedgehog

A black and red Hedgehog, seeming to be a different version of sonic

But you came to the wrong place at the wrong time as you saw Tom on the ground, Shadow with the key in his hand as he saw you

That's how you are now taken in by him as your wrists were tied together

Trying to free yourself as you thought of idea on how to get out

Doctor eggman and his grandfather seemed to be suspicious about you seeming that you looked rather different than the Wachowskis

Shadow also thought too but didn't think much of it as it seemed like a waste of time

But Shadow knew something was up with you and he wanted to know what

During your time being captured by The robotniks, shadow had seemed to take a interest in you all of a sudden seeming that he was always the one who stood close to you

So you decided to start a conversation with you if you could only to get a huff out of him

But you didn't stop as you told him things about you

Shadow looked like he wasn't listening but actually he was

During all this, you wondered if the others were coming to get you back

But you didn't feel threatened at all as they seemed to untie you

But on one condition if Shadow supervisors you

Which you didn't mind at all seeming he was the only one you've talked to during all this

Now Shadow has become more talkative ever since he started to look after you seeing if you were trying to escape

But you never did as you always tried so hard to keep a conversation going

You were joyful, talkative and very sweet

Someone that he cared for, someone who didn't think he was a monster

You reminded him of someone he dearly loved and cared for

And he was scared if he was going to care for you, something would happen to you

Shadow tried to keep it on the down low as you were the one to always talk about stuff

Shadow took interest about the stuff you would talk about

Like how pretty flower fields are, how lovely the forests are around your home town, how your family was the best

And maybe you spilled in a little bit of something else you weren't suppose to talk about

Maybe something about you being an alien just like him

Shadow was confused until you proved it, your skin reflected on the light

It was because you trusted him enough to know

Shadow thought it was pretty, your skin shining and looked sparkly

Shadow wasn't the only alien here

The person he cared and came close to was also an alien just like him

And he is willing to protect you from anything that tries to come after you

And he was going to do the right thing

-A<3

#sonic movie #sonic 3 #sonic movie 3 #sonic the hedgehog 3 #shadow the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow x reader

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choccy-milky · 5 hours ago

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I dont know why I had this vision of clora riding a scooter, like a cute light blue one with italy vibes, like a vespa, and sebastian panicking behind her LMAO

I SEE THE VISION AS WELL...idk how shes on a vespa tho since they werent invented yet so lets just assume theres time-turner shenanigans going on LMAO

but also anon this request was so funny to me because the SAME day you sent me it, i also got this one on twitter:

TRULY THE DUALITY OF MAN IS AT PLAY HERE!!! LMAOO debauchery vs wholesomeness...and it made me laugh so much

(and for anyone curious yes i WILL also be honouring the other request......eventually👀)

@jstfndmthngs splitting your ask into 2 again bc its a CHONKER but I LOVED READING IT🥹🥹 "how much they love each other to the abnormal level that i envy" LMAOO THATS FANFICTION FOR YOU, BABY!!😍 also YESS interacting with my readers in the comments was my fav parts of writing a lot of the time, and im SOOO grateful to the ppl who commented bc without them the story would have turned out DRASTICALLY DIFFERENT. like, i know there are some people who write the entirety of their fanfic and then upload it in chunks, but if i had done that/written my story in a vacuum and hadnt incorporated any of my readers ideas/suggestions it would have been SOOOO much worse honestly LMAO. like, not even necessarily putting their requests or ideas in my fic, but even sometimes just reading a comment that would say something like "i cant wait to see how clora/seb reacts to..." would make me think...oh. i was never planning on even showing their reaction to that. but now that they say that, good point, i definitely need to include that LOL. so yeah even just little stuff like that was SUPER important to my writing process and my story and helped me keep in mind what people wanted to see/things i may have missed or glossed over if i'd been writing by myself, but i also just loved getting comments in general bc i loved reading them and they were so motivating🥹 BUT THANK U SO MUCH IM GLAD U LIKED MY STORY/SEB & CLORA SO MUCH, AND TY FOR SHARING ALL YOUR THOUGHTS WITH ME!!🥹💖💖 im lowkey the same way... i cant read any other fics rn bc im still too attached to seb/clora BAHAHA so i still need to give it some time before i delve into other HL fics (i even downloaded a program that will let me replace names so that i can replace the mc's name with clora's LMFAOOOO THATS HOW MENTALLY ILL I AM ABOUT THEM!!😭😭DONT COME FOR ME🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🚓)

omg...i already love unlocking kinks in people but for it to be specifically seb x clora is even more of an honour BAHAHA omg i love that....but i get it too. clora is submissive and breedable af😍LMAOO (im sorry💀that wasnt me just now that was seb blame him)

@acrenna MERRY LATE CHRISTMAS AND ALSO LATE HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! this is so sweet THANK YOU SO MUCH😭😭im happy my story was able to get you out of your reading slump!! (and hopefully will continue to, with my oneshot im slowly but surely working on😩) BUT THANK YOU AGAIN I APPRECIATE YOU SM🥹🥹💖

@misskkfritz you actually arent the first to say this and i also saw a pinterest comment on my art say this........FELLAS DO I NEED TO WATCH GILMORE GIRLS NOW🤔🤔🤔

#ask #i always wanted a vespa because of zoey 101 DOES ANYONE REMEMBER THOSE THINGS THEY RODE i was so jealous LMFAO #also i think all fanfic writers should be able to give themselves amnesia at least once so we can read our fics and enjoy them as a reader #bc they are literally MADE for us and have all the stuff we like in them #EVERYBODY GETS ONE(1)#vote me in as president. as your first canadian president this will be my first decree. we'll figure it out

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reignpage · 2 days ago

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hiiii i hope this doesnt add to the super specific ask about the eden characters and doesnt seem weird but im kinda curious of what the eden couples argue about, like what causes them to argue and how long does it take for them to resolve their issues? (maybe also what they do for forgiveness? like im thinking someone would cut up fruits for their lover as an apology 💀)

Two questions in one ask HOW GREEDDDY😡

Gojo and reader

In college:

They argue about Gojo’s friends. The frat guys who are rowdy and boisterous. Most of them are nice enough but frat guys get drunk and they become people reader can’t stand to be around. But they’re Gojo’s boys so he gets defensive. This is a recurring issue so it doesn’t really get resolved, it just dies down until it gets brought up again

In life:

They argue over Gojo’s immaturity. He’s too go with the flow sometimes and it leaves reader to deal with things, like he’s always lived in a position of privilege so there are some things he misses or he just doesn’t know, like how to lead a business or be a good role model.

It doesn’t take very long for Gojo to realise because he can see her getting visibly panicked.

Gojo apologises for leaving the responsibility to her by stepping up and getting serious. And then he’s pampering her with a spa day and shopping

Geto and reader

Generally:

Geto has a tendency to become withdrawn, to start smoking more often and to lose sleep, not telling her what’s on his mind. It’s hard for reader because she’s never been in his position so she doesn’t know what to do, she wants to give him his space but she’s worried giving him too much would just allow him to spiral more, but then pushing her way in might just push him away altogether

It varies every time. Sometimes it takes a week, sometimes it takes a month etc

Geto can only apologise and try to do better, making up for lost time and attending all the therapy. But none of it ever seems to do the trick

Choso and reader

They don’t have deep issues to resolve lol, these two are like hippies, it’s all just weed and art for them

But reader does get annoyed when Choso leaves his supplies around. She trips on paint cans or stubs her toes on canvas lying on the floor. She gives him the silent treatment.

It never lasts long, choso’s got a sixth sense when it comes to his muse. And he hates making her upset, so he’ll clean everything in the house just to cover all bases. And then he gets on his knees and literally begs her to forgive him.

Reader always has a devious idea for a punishment (not always sexual but tends to be) it could be something like being her nude model for hours. Choso will do whatever, he has little pride lol

Toji and reader

Oh god, these two argue all the damn time. It’s mostly reader telling Toji off. Something like leaving his basketball everywhere or staying out too late or not throwing beer bottles away or getting into a fight with another player or a coach etc etc

It can last a while since they’re both stubborn. Longest was when he quit his job as a physical trainer without consulting her and that fight lasted three weeks. But generally it’s days.

Toji knows he’s usually in the wrong and he cozies up to her, rubbing her shoulders, hugging her from the back, kissing her until she breaks.

They fuck it out.

Lots of angry sex. Sometimes they fight just to have angry sex.

Nanami and reader:

They don’t have little fights. Nanami’s literally perfect, he has no flaws no I am not biased. Reader on the other hand is full of flaws and bad habits lol. But he’s forgiving and oh so patient, so there’s rarely ever any issue.

They do have big fights though, mostly around reader’s insecurities. Like the research partner. There’s no shouting, just tears, a lot of tears and lot of sobbing and begging.

When he sees her like that, Nanami’s heart breaks. Like literally. He falls to his knees and begs her to let him in, to not push him away, to trust him and believe him when he says there’s no one else, there’s never been anyone else.

He holds her in his arms until she calms down, takes her to the bath, and does her whole routine for her. Then he takes her to bed where he tries to soothe her and lets her fall asleep crying. When they wake up, reader is ashamed.

He doesn’t let her apologise.

Sukuna and reader:

Boy oh boy where do I begin with these two?

They argue over a lot of things. Sukuna hates when she’s nice to stupid, rich men, especially if they’re handsome. Reader hates when he’s nice to stupid rich, women, especially if they’re beautiful, and oh my god if they’re beautiful AND younger. Sukuna gets upset because she never butters him up like that. Reader is upset because he’s never nice.

They fuck it out.

Lots of angry sex that are more like hate sex? It’s just the forest over and over again, in every surface in every room in every conceivable position.

Then they’re good again.

Sometimes reader remembers what happened in first year and just gives him the silent treatment. Oh god sukuna hates the silent treatment, it’s worse than when she screams at him and attacks him, or even when she snubs him in public. He tries to do it back to her and these ice cold moments in the estate where they pretend the other doesn’t exist can last weeks, months. One time lasted 5 months.

Sukuna always caves first. He cuffs her to him when she’s sleeping so she’s forced to acknowledge his presence and even though she breaks the silence first, they both know he lost

He doesn’t mind losing when it feels like winning

#reignpageasks #modern au

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aventurineswife · 20 hours ago

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Aww, no more Yor!Reader? Well, I guess it would have been overdone eventually. 😅

How about I share an idea instead about Reader acting as a lawyer/legal consult for Aventurine? (Bouncing off of my friend’s recent obsession with lawyer characters lol.)

So, Reader is a lawyer studying the laws of various worlds. Their work laptop is full of legal texts and documents, which they use to keep track of information gained and help make sure Aventurine doesn’t step too hard on someone’s toes. coughsunliketopazonbelobogcoughs

Reader is also partially the reason why Aventurine was able to get away with attacking the Astral Express — by taking his and Ratio’s witness accounts of their “meeting” with Sunday and the power of the Order being forced on Aventurine to brainwash him on threat of death within 17 hours. (I know I saw a post pointing out how Sunday basically broke diplomatic immunity by doing this, tho I can’t remember who. 🫠) Who can say for sure that Aventurine threatening to detonate a Stellaron wasn’t the result of (him struggling against) the Order influencing him? Reader can even point out that if the Family tried to go after Aventurine, Sunday’s actions coupled with the Family’s lying about death being impossible in the Dreamscape would be grounds for a counter lawsuit.

Emphasis on Reader partially being why Aventurine got away with his gamble. Even without Reader being Aventurine’s lawyer, the IPC’s got a fuck ton of money. 😅 Reader being there just makes things a lot faster and more convenient.

Reader’s pissed about Aventurine gambling his life like that, tho. 💀

“I TOLD YOU TO BE CAREFUL WHEN DEALING WITH [ACHERON] AND WHATAYA DO?! YOU GET FUCKING HAM-SLICED AND YEETED INTO A BLACK HOLE!!!!! 💢💢💢”

“Objection! Gambling with Your Life is Not a Legal Strategy!”

Summary: You find yourself grappling with the aftermath of Aventurine’s latest reckless escapade—one involving ham-slicing, black holes, and intergalactic legal battles. As his ever-resourceful and exasperated legal advisor, you’re left to clean up the mess while Aventurine, the ever-smug gambler and IPC executive, teases you with his charm. Beneath the banter, a glimpse of sincerity from Aventurine leaves you questioning whether there’s more to him than his reckless bravado.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Crackfic, Lawyer!Reader, Dubious Morality, Fluff and Angst, Overworked (and probably underpaid or not) Reader, Banter and Wit, Slow-Burn Romance (implied), Reader Yelling at Aventurine (deserved tbh).

Warnings: Mild language (Reader vents a lot), Legal jargon overload, Brief mentions of violence and manipulation, Reader and Aventurine arguing, Crack-level absurdity in legal scenarios, Aventurine's traumatic backstory hinted at but not deeply explored.

A/N: Thank you for your understanding 🙏💖 and I hope you like this! This may be a bit ooc and I mostly have forgotten a lot of things so yeah🧍‍♀️

You glared at Aventurine from behind your laptop, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you typed out yet another damage control memo. The smug blond executive lounged across from you in his plush office chair, one leg draped lazily over the armrest. His perpetual grin was as infuriating as ever, even with fresh bandages peeking out from the collar of his shirt.

"Really, darling," he drawled, twirling his peacock-feather earring, "I think you're overreacting. Things turned out splendidly, didn’t they? I'm still here, the Stellaron didn’t detonate, and Sunday's little 'dream empire' has a massive PR disaster on their hands. All thanks to your impeccable legal wizardry, might I add."

You slammed your laptop shut with enough force to make him flinch. "Splendidly?! You were HAM-SLICED, Aventurine. HAM. SLICED. And then YEETED INTO A BLACK HOLE! Do you even comprehend how many laws of physics, ethics, and basic sanity you violated in a single day?"

He chuckled, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "But you saved me, didn’t you? My charming legal champion, swooping in with airtight arguments and enough loopholes to make the Family’s lawyers cry."

"Don’t you dare flatter me right now." You jabbed a finger at him, your other hand pointing to the stack of legal briefs on your desk. "Do you know how hard it is to defend you when you keep pulling stunts like that? I had to argue in front of three intergalactic tribunals that Sunday's Dreamscape Order literally brainwashed you into threatening a Stellaron detonation!"

Aventurine leaned forward, resting his chin on his palm, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "And you did it flawlessly. Honestly, I should hire you full-time. Leave that dusty legal research behind and become my personal strategist. Think of the fun we’d have!"

"Fun?" you repeated, incredulous. "FUN?! Watching you gamble your life away every other Tuesday isn’t my idea of fun, Kakavasha."

His grin faltered for the briefest moment at the mention of his real name, but he recovered quickly, standing and striding over to your desk. "You know I can’t resist a good gamble," he said softly, his voice unusually earnest. "It’s who I am. But having you there… knowing you’ve got my back? That’s the only reason I can keep playing the game."

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity. "That’s… disturbingly sweet," you muttered. "But it doesn’t excuse the fact that you’re reckless, irresponsible, and—"

"Charming?" he offered with a wink.

"Infuriating," you finished, swatting his hand away as he tried to steal one of your pens. "Now sit down and let me finish drafting this counter-lawsuit. If Sunday or the Family tries to come after you again, I want them buried so deep in legal hell they’ll be begging for the black hole treatment."

Aventurine laughed, a genuine, unguarded sound that made your chest tighten in a way you refused to examine. "You’re one of a kind, [Name]. I don’t deserve you, but I’m keeping you anyway."

"You don’t have me," you shot back, ignoring the warmth creeping up your neck. "I’m just here to make sure you don’t get sued—or sliced—again."

"Of course," he said smoothly, settling back into his chair with a self-satisfied smirk. "But I’ll win you over eventually. It’s only a matter of time."

You rolled your eyes and reopened your laptop, trying to focus on your work. But as you typed out another legal argument to shield Aventurine from his latest bout of insanity, you couldn’t quite suppress the smile tugging at your lips.

Maybe he wasn’t entirely unbearable.

#x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #crack fic #lawyer reader #dubious morality #fluff and angst #overworked reader #banter and wit #slow burn romance

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mauvecherie-writes · 1 day ago

Text

be mine this christmas: l.hamilton.

pairing: lewis hamilton x black oc!xenia richards

trope: grumpy billionaire x personal assistant au

ru’s 💌: this will be my last update for a few days because I have some school work to do that I’ve been avoiding lol. The Lewis in this story is not to be conflated with IRL Lewis. He’s an asshole who knows he’s an asshole but you’ll love him the same. This story is fast paced because it takes place in about one day.

series masterlist

chapter: TWO

chapter warning: DUAL POV, mentions of toxic family dynamics: child neglect, asshole!lewis

chapter w.c: 3.86K

𝐋𝐄𝐖𝐈𝐒

Lewis had an affinity for pissing people off. Since childhood, it had been something that he loved and it was probably something that he always had a fascination for. Seeing the way that he could affect someone else in such a way that dictates their mood was amusing to him. For most people, it was a funny occurrence that he would quickly forget about as soon as he left their presence . But there was one person that he made a point to aggravate with her furious expression being left in her wakes as she stormed away - his little assistant, Miss Xenia Richards.

Being able to garner a reaction out of her was worth his time in gold. It was like a hobby of his where he kept a running record going of how many times that he could successfully piss her off. Any moment that he was feeling bored, all it took was a swivel of his chair and an intercom call to her desk and it took nothing to invoke a reaction out of her - simply because it was too easy.

Why did Lewis love it so much? A very simple answer. He was an asshole.

It was how he was raised - or lack thereof.

A toxic cycle that he found all too time consuming to break with everything else that he had going on. It was just the way he was and he was not going to dig deep into his childhood trauma to figure out why pissing his PA off gave him a greater satisfaction than winning a new client. He liked the way he was just fine.

He wasn’t going to psychoanalyse why when she bashfully hid her face away from him, it made his dick hard. Or when she storms out of his office, he loved the way her ass jiggled and he pictured it bent over his lap wiggling as he slapped the smooth surface. He didn’t care as to why he enjoyed aggravating Xenia so much. But he was not going to stop any time soon.

When the company was established, Lewis had put it in the company policy that the executive staff would not fraternise with anyone directly in their line of authority and for the last three years he had been deeply regretting that rule. He was sure even the way that he fantasised about Xenia would be grounds for his termination from his position. So the next best thing that he had in his arsenal was riling her up.

His fascination also probably had to do with the fact that getting smart-mouthed and strong-willed women to submit to him was a kink of his. It was a dangerous affliction that he knew would cost him but it was worth it, million times over. Especially if it was Xenia at the end of his tunnel.

Lewis knew that she put up a good front but he could see right through Xenia’s faux exterior. She was nothing more than a brat who needed guidance. Specifically his guidance.

“Sir.” The sweet voice of his secretary, Tabitha, came over the phone’s intercom.

“Yes Tabitha?” He answered as it put a stop to his wayward thoughts.

“I have a list from Olivia on what else is needed for the Christmas party.” He could already feel an idea formulating before he could even utter thank you. The eagerness that swept through him at the thought of his assistant’s displeasure was concerning but he chose not to focus on that. Instead, his mind dwelled on how her face would contort between wanting to be defiant and wanting to submit to his bending. It was too good of a moment to not witness. As for now, he’ll just have to settle for the memories.

Lewis grabbed his cellphone from the desk and typed a quick message to Xenia with an updated list. He predicted that by now she probably would have been grabbing Mile’s lunch as the sushi restaurant was a few more miles further out from their offices. It was a last minute addition and when he thought about it, he preferred the roast blend from MonMouth instead.

After sending his message, he placed his phone back on his hand-carved red oak desk and turned back to face his computer screen. When the screen lit back up, he scrolled through some of the marketing reports and was particularly impressed with the continuous success of PLUS44WORLD. Nearly half a decade later into his retirement, his merch was still a major selling point of his brand. He then schemed through a few proposals from marketing agencies for sponsorships. He forwarded the ones that he thought would work best with the company to Miles and the legal team.

Even despite his obsession with enraging his personal assistant, Lewis could not deny that she did a fantastic job. A damn near perfect job actually. Everything that he threw her way, she was able to handle it with ease. Departments handed in their reports on time due to her delegation. Meetings and proposals, he went through half the time because Xenia often assessed them before forwarding them to him. This ultimately left him with very little to do towards the end of the day.

That was not great for his boredom. As he looked out of the window and watched the falling snow, he was forced to spend time with his thoughts. By the stream of thick fluff, he predicted that by the time Christmas rolled by, the streets of London. Would be covered in blankets of it. He hated the way that his mind shifted to his parents. They hated the cold, snow in particular and spent most of their time somewhere in the tropics.

At the very first sight of snowfall, they ran. As soon as they were able to leave Lewis alone with his nannies, they did. He was raised by his nannies, whichever one they had at the time. Up until he began to take an interest in motorsports, then his parents decided that they wanted to do their job. They had done just enough for it not to cause a media firestorm as his success grew expeditiously. The perfect family, they were dubbed.

It was only ever for the public. Behind closed doors, Lewis was often left alone - back into the arms of his nannies. Alone again, especially at Christmas. He never let it bother him, in essence, he was surrounded by too many people to actually ever be alone. But in his solitude, he had observed a thing or two about humans. Their mannerisms, their habits, their tells - all to come to the conclusion that people were ruled by their emotions. Whether they wanted to or not.

Through his adolescence, he pushed his nannies past their limits - most of them quitting before their contract was over. It was then that he decided that he was not a fan of compliant women. They were not stimulating enough for him. Lewis learnt a lot of things in his isolation as an only child. How to be in charge of his own happiness. He was indifferent to his parents due to their mistreatment and he probably needed professional help to unpack that. Right now, that was not a priority.

Instead, he chose to find solace in causing Xenia discomfort. He enjoyed seeing the life in her eyes when she got mad. He always wondered if there would be that same fire when she reached her climax. Or would she crumble beneath him, spent and exhausted. One assumption he was almost certain of was that she was undoubtedly a screamer. That he was sure.

As if his thoughts had summoned her presence, he turned around at the tumbling of limbs, bags and lunch barraging through his office door.

The better part of him wanted to stand up and offer some help. The arsehole part of him leaned back into his chair, silently watching as Xenia cursed as she struggled to make it through. After a painful moment, she was able to gather herself as she dumped the bags onto the floor and then placed his lunch and coffee onto his desk without a single spill.

“Such a gentleman for helping me with the door, sir.” She spat out the last word with so much venom. Xenia had probably done it to annoy him as if he wasn’t already in the mindset that he was, it would have. All it did now was that it shot shocks through to his dick. Too many times had he fantasised about her using his official title as she thanked him for her pleasure. He chewed on the inside of his cheek to control his smirk from breaking out as he watched her shuffle in one place as she tried to regulate her emotions. Her hand twitched by her sides as she seemed to be counting down.

She was so responsive, Lewis thought to himself. And it only drove his desire to toy with her more. Xenia may not respond with words but in letting her body respond for her, it fuelled the flames in the pit of her stomach.

Since Lewis had hired her, he knew that she would be more than he bargained for and he had begun to wonder if - even by just the smallest fraction, that she also wanted to please him. It would make sense if she did. Xenia was responsive to him in other ways that she may not have been aware of, eager for his touch and eager for his praise.

Yet she would not submit, she would not give up her control to him. But he would take it, own it, bend it to his will and there would be no going back.

However, as tempting as it would be, it was a pleasure that he would not indulge in just yet. The company rules were there for a reason and his desire would remain in his thoughts and burn his soul as they were starved of fruition.

Lewis would just have to settle for the tremble of her full, glossed lips, the rising of her chest instead of the jiggle of her ass. He would observe the fierceness that swirled in her eyes every time that she looked at him rather than the feeling of her cunt clamping down on his dick. He would expand her energy to run around the city with a list in hand for as long as it fuelled the fantasy of her running out of breath as he drove into her, marred the walls of his warped mind.

That would do. For now.

𝐗𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐀

There were many kinds of demons in accordance with the religions and mythologies of the world and as this particular demonic spawn sighed as he leaned forward, Xenia wondered what she had done in her past life to deserve this.

“Let’s hope that I don’t need to get my shirts re-starched due to your negligence.”

Oh, this dickhead.

For the second time in less than two minutes, Xenia had to use the countdown method to control her rising temper. And for the fourth time that week, she thought about handing in her resignation, cashing out her savings and moving to New York. It was wishful thinking. A sigh left her as she patted her hair back into place.

“Maybe if you had helped me then that wouldn’t be a worry would it?”

“And why would I do that? It’s what I hired you for.”

Now, she knew that being of a certain class made people lose touch with reality but to hear such words come out of the cretin had her mind racing with insults that could curse an entire bloodline. All of them colourful and all of them violent enough to get her a secured spot in HM Bronzefield.

So she stood there in silence as she swallowed down her disgust at the complete lack of chivalry. They stayed there, Xenia attempting not to burst with anger and Lewis daring her to defy him.

You just need this job a little bit longer, Xenia.

Pushing her pride aside, she bent down, picked up his dry cleaning and walked across the main office space to the private en suite. She hung them behind the door and took a moment to inhale and exhale, again and again until she felt her hert beating steadily again.

Entering back into the office, she did not offer Lewis a second glance as she picked up the other bags up from the floor. “Now that you have your lunch, I will take these bags to the conference hall.” She turned to walk away, her body burning with anticipation to leave his scrutinising gaze. Then he cleared his throat and she had to stop herself from screaming in frustration.

“Is there anything else that you need from me, sir?”

“I do.” For all of the times for Xenia to be affected by his voice, it had to be when she wanted to bash the side of his head with the bags in her hands. Not only that, she hated the visceral reaction his voice seemed to have on her body. Her core tightened as a shiver rushed down her spine.

Xenia forced herself to stay still, facing the door as he stood directly behind her. She did not want to look into his eyes as she was avoiding whatever she was feeling.

“As soon as you drop those bags in the conference rooms, please come back here. I know your propensity to become distracted.”

He was right and it gutted her that he had picked up on the restlessness of her mind.

“Yes, sir.” Xenia did not stop once she had thrown the door open and rushed across the floor, avoiding the eyes of the other assistance.

“Are you alright?” Her mind couldn’t register that it was the voice of Tabitha. She incessantly pressed on the elevator button, in an effort to increase the distance between her and Lewis. Her eyes cut to his office and she saw him leaning against his desk so he took sips of his coffee as he scrolled through his phone. As if he could feel the intensity of her glare, his eyes flickered up and met hers. Holding her stare, Lewis put his phone down and pressed a button on his desk and the glass walls began to tint darker and darker until they were pitch black. Before he was enclosed in complete privacy, Lewis shot her a wink.

And it almost dissolved her resolve.

“Xenia?” The sound of her name jolted her back to reality. She looked to her right and saw the older woman, Tabitha standing there. In her mid fifties with a full head of grey dreadlocks secured on top of head in a bun with spunky red glasses sitting on the bridge of her nose. “I asked if you were alright dear.” The Jamaican twang to her voice gave her a sense of comfort that made Xenia relax her tense shoulders.

“I’m okay Tabitha, thank you for asking. I’m just trying to get through the day in one piece.”

“Knock on wood as soon as you find some. That boy is very unpredictable.” Tabitha winked at her as the elevator doors closed. The ride down to the ground floor was swift. When she entered the main conference hall where the party would be hosted, it wasn’t a shock to her at the utter chaos that was taking place. Ladders tall and short propped against the walls as frivolous leftovers of decor loitered on the floor. Workers ran around as they tried to finish the last of the set up.

As she stood at the door, Xenia could see the beginnings of her vision coming together after weeks spent designing. This was not just a party for the company staff, no. All of the members currently sitting on the board attended. Major clients that the company wanted to keep in favour amongst social media content creators on the PR list. Ala in all to say that a lot of fucking people were going to be in attendance and Xenia had felt the pressure, to make it perfect as she did every year since her employment.

She managed not to get her feet tangled in discarded tinsel as she entered the room further.

“Drop them near the main stage, Nia.” Olivia, the event coordinator and good friend pointed in the direction that she wanted the bags to be. Her dark, raven locks were pulled into a high ponytail, her beautiful umber skin glowing under the low lights. Similar to little miss bitch, Lola, Olivia had the same gymnast body type. However, Olivia was nowhere close to the bitch that Lola was, she was an angel.

Once the bags were dropped, Xenia stepped back to admire the work that was being put in. The theme this year was Winter Wonderland with a specific colour scheme to stick to considering what the traditions of what a winter wonderland entails. But the design was coming along very well and Xenia was very proud of herself.

Crystal and faux glass decorations adorned the ceilings alongside uniform rows of white christmas lights. The centerpiece was a ten foot Christmas tree sat on the stage that was still in the process of being decorated but she knew that when it was done, it would be the showstopper.

“You think you can help us tackle that monster?” Olivia asked as she opened the bags that Xenia had delivered.

“Not a problem darling. I just need to go and see what Hamilton wants first and then I’ll be back down.” Olivia smirked at the mention of their boss but when she met Xenia’s death glare did she swallow it back. Olivia had a sick fascination with Xenia’s relationship with Lewis. From the beginning, she claimed that the sexual tension was intertwined in the bonds of their hatred for each other. Olivia had the ridiculous notion that Lewis seemed to enjoy infuriating Xenia because she was terrible at hiding her emotions. Whilst that may be true, that he loved goading a reaction out of her, Xenia loved doing the same. Even if it was the smallest loss of composure, it gave her a sliver of triumph.

“When i come back, the very mention of his name, I will fuck off out of here.” Xenia threatened, which caused Olivia to roll her eyes. Her track back up to the executives floor was one she dragged her feet for. She was not in a rush to get back to Lewis’s office. When she approached her desk to grab her iPad, she could feel his eyes peering at her through the privacy window. She had always found it creepy that he could watch the floor but no-one could look into his office when the tint was at full transmission. Xenia didn’t bother with knocking, he knew that it was her anyway.

The air grew thicker as he was unfazed by her show of an entrance. He was ignoring her as he typed away on his computer. She lowered herself onto a chair in front of his desk in a huff.

Can this man hurry up? I have shit to do. Xenia said to herself internally.

“Can you stop being dramatic, Richards? There’s no need for all of that.” His words were slow and mastered as he finally typed in the last of whatever that he was doing and turned his gaze onto her. His deep brown eyes were dark, alluring and made all of the muscles in her body tighten.

She could be honest, Xenia talked a big game and she absolutely had a massive attitude but there was not a lot of bark in her bite. Especially now as they were alone, Xenia’s body knew what her mind refused.

“Can I be honest with you Miss Richards?” The smoothness of his voice was enticing. Like a matured whiskey being poured over ice, she knew not to reach for a taste.

And yet, she still took the bait. “When have you never been honest with me?”

Lewis smirked. “I like this little game that we have going on between us.”

”Game?” Xenia frowned in confusion. Lewis nodded his head as he stood up from his chair and circled the desk until he was closer to her. She froze in her sit but managed to lean back into it so as to create some physical distance. His dark eyes remained on her as he rolled his sleeves, exposing his intrinsically tattooed skin for her viewing pleasure. Xenia forced her eyes back to his face and to maintain that eye contact as her traitorous core tightened at the simple act.

“Don’t play coy. I won’t say what it is that we play as it doesn’t need to be stated.” He paused as he fixed the folds of his shirt. “But I like it.”

Her worst enemy at that very moment was her body. Her nipples tightened as her core pulsated. Once in a while, the thought of hate fucking her boss crossed her mind, more often than it should. However, today was simply not the time nor place to let her mind wander into places that had been locked behind red doors.

Xenia crossed her legs and cleared her throat. “Of course you’d think torturing me is a game that we both like to play. I mean, I knew that you were a narcissist but this sounds concerning. Do you need me to contact someone?” The faux concern in her voice caused Lewis to lean backwards. He folded his arms across his chest and peered down at her. That fucking stupid smirk back on his face. The strands hanging on either side of his face with the overhead lights casting shadows that danced across his skin.

She should have been intimidated but she wasn’t. She was deeply aroused and then it dawned onto her how they were positioned.

Lewis above her and her below, almost eyes level with his crotch.

A show of submission. One that she would not give into. Xenia quickly shuffled back up to her feet and that caused Lewis to widen his smile before he moved back to his seat.

“What did you actually need me here for, Mr Hamilton?”

“I just wanted you to make sure that you don’t forget about the list I have emailed you.” Lewis said so casually as if he had not just accosted her. The scoff that left her could not be held back as she grabbed her iPad from his desk and charged towards the door.

What a waste of my fucking time.

“Oh and one last thing, Miss Richards.”

Don’t roll your eyes girl.

“Yes, sir?”

“Make sure to remember the number six for me.”

Is this man alright?

Xenia exhaled through her gritted teeth. “Yes, sir.” She had almost made it out of her door when she heard the faintest whisper. Whether he had actually said it or not, a shiver rolled down her spine and lit her nerves aflame.

Two simple words,

Good girl.

reading list: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @saturnville @hopefulromantic1 @lettersofgold @cocobutterqwueen @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @sapphireheaven @olyvoyl @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly @scorpiobleue @laneywrld @qveenmelanink @tremendousstarlighttragedy @bekindbecoolbeyou @greedyjudge2 @itsapurrfectstorm @createdbylivingclocks @omgsuperstarg @peyiswriting @miyuhpapayuh @blowmymbackout @purplelewlew @henneseyhoe @perfecttrashface @alianovnaromanovanatalia @leilaxaliel @hotfudgeslug @iamryanl @pickingupmymercedes @eleetalks @ambs-06 @annisassintchaska @boujiestpoet @nayaesworld @nat-lh-44 @mochachocolatteyaya @melaninpov @kindan3rdy951 @elyseesarchive @sl33p-deprived-princess @soiguessimtheshit @acidlv @trinitoldyouso @gwenda-fav @f1-football-fiend

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harrywritingsbyme · 1 day ago

Text

The Sweetest Case

a/n: hey y’all, long time no see, lol. I caught the writing bug that included follow-through with writing, editing, and posting. I just had this random idea pop into my head at 3am one night and figured I’d give it a stab. This one is so cute and will be a two-parter and potentially a mini-series. Also, the characters are down horrendous for each other. The second part is going to have my world-famous smut lol, so don’t worry lol. I’ve just been in a fluffy, very cutesy vibe for a long time, and idk if y’all were into that, given my normally smut-heavy writing. Anyway, I hope u like it…enjoy 🫶🏾😗

a baker!Harry au

pinterest mood board ♡

summary: an attorney’s structured life is turned upside down when a charming café owner shows her that love might just be the sweetest case she’ll ever take on.

word count ~ 6.2k words

Not even in your wildest dreams would you have thought that your late commute into the office on a random Tuesday morning would bring you and the man of your dreams together. You knew that casually stumbling across the love of your life wasn’t completely farfetched. But since it’d been confined solely to the pages of the books you’d read on the train to and from work, you were a bit weary of its potential.

But you were in for a rude awakening when you stumbled into the café a block from your office. You were already running late due to your choice of snoozing your alarm three times that morning, so you couldn’t stop at your regular coffee shop on your way to the train. However, no matter how late you were, you would never skip your morning latte. Maybe you’re a creature of habit, or perhaps you have a serious caffeine addiction; regardless, you were going to stop for your morning fix.

You’d seen the quaint shop on the corner on your walks to work, never stopping in, merely eyeing the pastries and deserts through the window as you walked by. You hated the coffee in your office, so there was no other option but to grab a coffee from the charming shop. You stepped underneath the pale green and white awning, pulling open the surprisingly heavy door with curly letters spelling out Sugar Bowl Bakery & Café. When you step inside, you’re immediately enveloped by the warm air and delicious smell of freshly baked goods circulating through the room.

Upon stepping up to the counter, you’re face to face with a pretty handsome barista in what you assumed to be the standard issue pale green apron for the shop and a name tag with Harry scrawled across it clipped to the top.

“What can I get for you this morning?” Harry rasps from behind the counter, a smile forming on his lips as you break from your thoughts at the sound of his voice.

“Oh- um…” You stammer, breaking away from your inner thoughts. “Could I get a vanilla latte, please?” You rush out, a little flustered at your noticed staring. “And a croissant, please!” You quickly add.

“Of course.” Harry chuckles softly, adding the haphazard croissant to your order. “Can I get a name for the order?” He adds, despite you being the only order at the moment.

“Y/n”

“Thanks, that’ll be $8.34.” ‘Pretty,’ Harry thinks as he replies, biting his lip to stop himself from beaming down at you. It only worsens for him as he watches you maneuver into your purse through your jacket, fishing through your things to find your wallet. At that moment, Harry’s wracking his brain to know if he’s seen anyone as beautiful and adorable as you were at this moment. And he comes up short.

“Here ya go.” You smile, handing over the $10 bill you’d pulled from your wallet. He quickly pulls your change from the register along with your receipt.

“Your order will be ready in a couple of minutes.” Harry carefully hands you the receipt and change, his fingers lightly brushing against your palm.

“Thanks.” You whisper back with a small smile, dropping the change in the tip jar and stepping away from the counter. You weren’t sure if you were just imagining things or if you felt a shock of electricity run through your hand when he touched yours. And you weren’t imagining things; Harry could feel it too, not that either of you could confirm or deny at that moment anyway. You were so caught up in the whirlwind that was Harry that you weren’t even stressed about being late for work.

After waiting a couple moments, Harry calls your name with your order in hand.

“Have a good one.” He says, his eyes locking on yours as a bright smile spreads across his lips.

“Thanks, you too.” You reply with a smile, taking the items from his hands. Again, your hands brush against him, and you feel a jolt of electricity flow through your hands. So no, you weren’t just imagining it the first time. You quickly turn and walk out of the shop, desperately trying to shake off the butterflies starting to attack your stomach.

As you walked away, Harry’s eyes never left you, following your every move until you were out of his sight. It was as if you and he were sharing one feeling. A feeling of excitement and hope to see each other again and simply be in one another’s presence. It was overwhelming but in a good way. A feeling that both of you wanted to feel again and neither of you wanted to forget.

While you walked toward your office, you finally took a sip of the hot drink in your hand. You didn’t know if you were biased towards the man making it, but this had to be the best latte you’d ever had. Either way, you were planning on becoming a regular at the establishment.

❃❃❃❃❃

And a regular you were. For a month or so straight, you came in every morning on your way to work, stopping in for your regular vanilla latte and croissant and your daily chats with Harry. You both secretly wished you could sit down and become properly acquainted, but the morning rush in the shop had other plans. Either way, you two appreciated the small interactions. In fact, they stayed on your minds all day long and kept you both afloat until the next morning when you got to do it all over again.

There was one morning, though, where there was absolutely no way you two could even say good morning to each other, as the place was just about packed to the brim. Even though the place was already popular, the muffins randomly went viral, and everyone flooded into the bakery to get their hands on them. In your head, you were patting yourself on the back for being ahead of the muffin curve. The shop was so packed that the only interaction you two had was a glance and smile when he turned at the sound of your voice as you placed your order. Yes, he remembered your voice. It’d be kind of hard to not remember your voice as he replayed it in his head nearly every chance he got. Not only did he remember your voice, he remembered your smile, your laugh, your presumably unorganized purse, given the way you always had to fish around for your wallet, and your bright yet soft aura that undoubtedly flooded the room and his being whenever you walked in.

Because of this incessant need for Harry to be around you, he decided to take the leap and unofficially ask you out. When your name was called to pick up your order, you grabbed the cup and bag and shuffled through the crowd and out the door. Only when you stepped onto the elevator of your office building did you see the note Harry had written on the bag. ‘Sorry, we couldn’t have our usual chat this morning. Stop by around lunchtime, I’ve heard our lunch menu is the best around. H.’ If there weren’t three other people in the elevator, you would’ve squealed from excitement. For the rest of the morning, you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at the clock, hoping it’d strike noon already so you could dash out of the office and back to the café.

When the time was finally on your side, you shot up from your desk, grabbing your jacket and purse before dashing out of the office. You stopped in the bathroom to straighten out your clothes and hair before taking the elevator down to the lobby. On your short walk to the shop, you tried your hardest to slow your breathing and heart rate, which was extremely elevated from excitement and nerves. It’s not like it was an official date. Right? Either way, your efforts were in vain because the moment you stepped into the warm establishment, your eyes met Harry’s, and your heart was ready to explode out of your chest all over again.

He’s leaning against the ledge behind the counter, waiting for your arrival. For the past 15 minutes before you came in, he kept an eye on the door, his head tilting up every time he heard the small bell on the door ring. Harry was doing his best to keep cool, trying his best to avoid thoughts of you not showing up or not being into him the way he was into you. Harry and yourself would’ve thought that at your age, you’d be calmer and less anxious about someone you were romantically interested in. But even though you could’ve kicked yourselves for being so infatuated with the other, neither of you cared to fight it much because, deep down, you both had a feeling that it’d be worth it.

“I was told that this place has an excellent lunch menu.” You hum, unwrapping your scarf that was bundled up around your neck.

“I’d have to agree with that.” He chuckles, beaming down at you from across the counter. “What can I get you, love?” He adds with a smile, making your heart flutter a bit.

“I’ll have whatever you recommend.” You reply, putting the choice for lunch in his hands.

“Alright, any allergies I should know about?” He continues.

“Nope.” You pop back, reaching into your purse for your wallet to pay. When he sees you going to pay, he quickly stops you in your tracks.

“No need, it’s on the house.” Harry quickly rushes out. He hadn’t even put the order into the system.

“You sure?” You shoot a questioning pout in his direction, weary of him picking up your tab.

“Yes. Now, how about you go and pick a seat, and I’ll bring the food to you? " he lightheartedly instructs, sending you on your way while he heads towards the kitchen in the back.

When you’re out of his sight, you drop the cash you would’ve spent in the tip jar and turn to find a seat in the tranquil café. You pick an able that’s in a corner by the window and make yourself comfortable while you wait.

In what seemed like no time at all, in the corner of your eye, you see Harry coming in your direction with a tray of food in hand.

“Alright, I picked some of my favorites off the menu.” He says, strategically placing everything down so it could fit onto the small café table before sitting in front of you.

“Everything looks amazing.”You whisper, taking in everything he’d placed before you. You were a little curious, though, as to how he could have possibly known that you were the type to have two beverages, with a cup of tea and a glass of ice water on the table for you. You were even more curious about why he hung around with you. “Why are you sitting? I’m not gonna be the one to get you in trouble with your boss, Harry.” You pointedly add.

“Love, it’s kind of hard to get in trouble with the boss when you own the place,” Harry smirks, sending a slight wink your way before making up his tea.

“You’ve been the owner this entire time?!” You whisper-shout across the table, a little shocked at the revelation.

Harry then goes on to explain that he’d opened this second location for his bakery almost two years ago, a little while before you started at your firm, and often frequented to help out a bit. He also explained how he wasn’t even supposed to be there the morning you first came in and that he was only in to help a bit since some of the staff were sick. Maybe it was meant to be, after all. Especially since you were running late for work and needed a quick coffee in the area that morning.

For the next half hour or so, you two talked and ate, discussing almost everything from your families to your jobs and hobbies. He told you about how he’d recently become an uncle (which he was beaming about from across the table) and how he’s a shop owner professionally, but his passion is baking. He developed just about every recipe for every item sold in the café. Harry also brought up how he was working on a cookbook and creating new recipes, which led him to his favorite show, ironically enough, The Great British Bakeoff. Which also explained the accent.

Conversely, you told him that you were an attorney, which he was thoroughly impressed by, but not so impressed that he asked you everything you could possibly imagine about your job, which was refreshing, believe it or not. You went on about how you related to him about being close with your mom and how you enjoyed cooking from time to time. You were also similar in the way your favorite shows matched your profession in some way, your show being tied between Suits and Law & Order.

The two of you could’ve kept talking all afternoon long had it not been time for you to return to the office.

“Thanks for lunch, Harry. I think it may just be the best lunch around.” You smile, biting the inside of your lip as you stand from the table. “And I’m serious about being a taste tester for your cookbook. I’m never going to turn down a sweet treat.” You remind him, bundling yourself up again to brave the cool air outside.

“Well, since you’re going to be my taste tester, I think that warrants getting your phone number. So that I can keep you up to date on recipe developments.” He rations, standing up from the table as well.

“Yeah, I wanna be developed on all things recipes.” You counter, fighting back the giggle that was bubbling in your throat. You pull your phone out from your jacket pocket and hand it over for him to put his number in. “The Handsome Baker? That’s what you’re going with?” You laugh, staring down at the new contact.

“Well I mean, do you disagree?” He cocks his head to the side with a wide smirk spread across his face.

“I plead the fifth.” This time, fully biting your lip to conceal your dopey smile. You quickly shrug on your coat and slide your purse onto your shoulder before stopping directly in front of Harry. “I‘ll text you later…” You softly hum up to him, lightly tapping his chest. “About the recipes.” You add with a closed smile before making your way out of the door and back to work.

His eyes follow you as you walk toward your office until you’re out of sight. As he cleans up the table, his mind is solely on you. He replays the entire conversation with you repeatedly for the rest of the day and the next morning when he sees you again. You decided to toy with him a bit and text him until the next morning, getting the sense that he was waiting for your message. You were completely correct about it because he texted you back less than 5 minutes after you’d sent the initial message.

For the next week or so, the two of you kept up the same morning coffee and light lunches routine. The conversation flowed continuously; if you two had it your way, you’d never leave your designated table in the corner by the window. Of the 6 lunches you two had, he only let you pay for two. In between, you two would be texting back and forth almost nonstop. And there was only one mention of the recipes you signed up to taste test for.

❃❃❃❃❃

One day, though, you were unable to make your regularly scheduled lunch “date.” Your firm had just brought on a new client, and you were tasked with writing up a legal brief. This meant you’d be glued to your desk until at least 3 p.m. and unable to take your standard hour lunch.

You: hey, i won’t be able to make it for lunch today…boss dropped a project on my desk :(

The Handsome Baker : No worries :)

Now get back to work! Don’t wanting you getting in trouble with the boss. ;)

You couldn’t stop a smile from forming on your lips before turning your phone over and getting back to work. Believe it or not, you could completely lock in and focus on your work for the next hour. That is, until your desk phone rang, breaking you out of your work-related daze.

“Hey Emma.” You greet the receptionist through the phone, cradling it between your ear and shoulder as you went back to typing on your desktop.

“Hey, Y/n. Sorry to interrupt, but security just called up saying that you had a delivery in the lobby.” The receptionist replied in her usual chipper voice.

“Thanks, I’m heading down now.” You had a history of forgetting what you ordered online but wouldn’t have anything delivered to your job. But you figured stretching your legs couldn’t hurt, so you slipped your heels back on and made your way to the elevator and down to the lobby.

When you stepped off the elevator and rounded the corner, any confusion you had completely melted away. You were greeted with a smiling Harry standing at the security desk with a brown paper bag and what you presumed to be your go-to latte order in his hands.

On the flip side, Harry could feel his entire body warm when he saw you walking in his direction. He’d seen you dressed in your usual office attire (minus the glasses), but seeing you walking towards him as Y/n, the attorney, was an entirely different sight. It was like every other noise around him faded into nothing; only your heels clicking against the ground and your cheery voice as you closed in on him met his ears.

“Thanks, Andrew.” You greet the security guard as you push past the turnstiles, standing fully before Harry. “I could get used to the personal delivery.” You smirk, trying to conceal the millions of butterflies swarming around your stomach and chest at the sweet gesture.

“Well, you have to eat, and your favorite restaurant closes at 6pm. Plus I figured you could use a caffeinated pick me up.” He slightly tilts his head to the side, giving you a little smile.

“Who sad it was my favorite?” You poke back, mirroring his head tilt.

“Judging by the way I’ve seen you every morning and afternoon for almost two months, it’s safe to say you’re a big fan.” He grins, knowing he got you there.

“I guess so. But it’s only because I’ve heard the owner is kinda cute, can bake a great pastry, and makes a mean vanilla latte.” You whisper back, fully beaming up at Harry now.

Harry’s mind scrambles at your comment, his heart threatening to explode out of his chest and onto the glimmering floor. His mind only races further when your hands brush against his to take the cup and bag from him.

“Thanks for lunch. I’ll text you later.” You reach up to leave a small peck on his cheek before returning to the elevators. As you turn the corner, you sneak a glance back in Harry’s direction to find him still standing there with his eyes solely on you. He hated to admit it, but as good it was to see you coming, it was even better to see you going.

As if you were telepathically linked, as soon as you were out of each other's sight, you both took a deep breath, your brains completely wracked from your interaction. The both of you were stunned at the gall on both of your parts in that small timeframe. For the rest of the day, it's all either of you could think about; thankfully, you were in the final stretch of your brief. Harry had brought you your favorite sandwich on the menu, a pastry he knew you loved, and a cupcake from a recipe he was testing out. You were his designated taste tester, after all. And you made sure to let him know, declaring it the best thing he's ever baked in his entire life over text.

That night, after all those unofficial lunch dates and secretly (quite obviously actually) pining for one another, especially after that afternoon, Harry finally made an official move.

The Handsome Baker: What’s your favorite dish?

You: spaghetti carbonara??

are you going to make a carbonara flavored cupcake for the cookbook??

i’ll try it but i'm not sure about that one…

The Handsome Baker: Not quite.

I thought we could make it together in the café kitchen this Friday around 8pm?

You: sounds like a date!

And just like that, you and Harry had your first official date scheduled for Friday night. Let’s just say you both were giggling and kicking your feet as you went to bed that night.

❃❃❃❃❃

Friday night couldn’t have come sooner; you two only had to wait two days, by the way. But to be fair, you hadn’t seen each other since Harry brought you lunch earlier in the week. The universe decided it’d be great to completely inundate you both with work the week of your first official date. Harry was busy at his other café location on the completely opposite side of town, and you were in meeting after meeting with clients and dissecting contracts page after page. But again, the only thing keeping Harry and yourself going was your date.

The day finally arrives, and a cocktail of nerves and excitement runs through your veins. While you’ve dated and done the first date thing plenty of times, you’d never had as good of a feeling about them as you did about the upcoming date with Harry. You couldn’t articulate it yet, but something was different this time.

Before you even pick out what you're wearing to work in the morning, you plan your outfit for that night. Up until now, Harry had only ever seen you in a suit or suit adjacent. You always felt confident, strong, and smart in your suits and workwear. But now you just wanted to feel soft and pretty. So, for almost an hour, you flipped through just about your entire closet, eventually settling on the perfect dress. It's not too dressy or too casual, but just right. After finally nailing down what you were going to wear, all the way through to the accessories and how you would do your hair, you finally got yourself dressed and out of the door to work.

While you were playing dress up and running late for work, Harry was flying around town picking up items for that evening. He picked up all the ingredients for dinner, stopping at three different grocery stores to get the best ingredients. He also grabbed your favorite bottle of wine, which he only knew to get since you’d sent a picture of the label a couple weeks ago after he mentioned wanting to try it. Along with the groceries and wine, Harry hauled his stand mixer and its fifty million attachments from his home kitchen to the café, stashing everything away into its proper places until he needed them later.

For the rest of the day, you two were locked into your work. You were almost certain you were typing and reading faster than normal, intent on walking out of the office at 5pm on the dot. Harry started the next day's prep work earlier than normal, making sure that he could send everyone home earlier to have the kitchen to himself. And right on schedule, you were heading home to get ready, and Harry had done the last bit of cleaning before sending his staff home early for the evening.

At that point, the countdown had begun. You were taking your precious time getting ready and refusing to account for Friday night traffic. Harry was practically in an episode of the amazing race, trying to get home to shower and change, stop by the florist before they closed to pick up a small flower arrangement, and set up the kitchen all before you arrived. While he may have appeared to be going mad and doing the absolute most, he wouldn’t have had it any other way. Because similarly to how you felt, Harry had this gut feeling about you. While there was still so much more for you two to learn about each other, he thought that you already knew him so well. You two just clicked. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you off, but Harry was in love. And he was ready to say it whenever you were. He was just praying you felt the same way.

❃❃❃❃❃

The Beautiful Attorney: i’m outside :)

As soon as he saw your message, Harry rushed up from his table in the seating area of the café to the door to let you in, on the way, drying his sweaty palms on his pants. He could see your shoes tapping on the ground outside the door window, and a smile instantly made all his nerves disappear. When the door swings open, your eyes immediately meet, and your arms pull each other into a tight and long-awaited embrace. His arms snake around your waist while yours glide around his neck. You two whisper small ‘hi’s’ into each other’s ears. Upon pulling away from the embrace, Harry closes and locks the shop door, shutting out the cold air. He then helps you out of your coat, draping it over the table he once sat at, and leads you into the kitchen.

“So this is where the magic happens.” You hum, taking in the well lit kitchen. Your heart swelled at the sight of the full bouquet of flowers sitting on the counter.

“Indeed it is…” Harry chuckles. “Now put this on,” He continues, handing you a green and white striped apron to put on. Once you slip the apron around your neck, Harry reaches around you to tightly wind the ties around your waist to tie them together in the front. “Don’t your pretty dress getting dirty,” He mutters, intently tying them into a bow. When he’s done, Harry absentmindedly cups your hips, giving them a small pat before rounding the counter.

At that moment, all you wanted him to do was pull you against his chest and give you one of the best kisses of your life. Knock the air out of your lungs and officially claim you as his. You thought good things come to those who wait as you moved next to him.

“So I figured we could make everything from scratch.” Harry grins, starting to set up the stand mixer.

“I thought so…I hope that doesn’t include the wine though. I’m not a crushing grapes with my feet kind of girl.” You joke.

“Your favorite bottle is in the fridge, " he chuckles, watching you giddily skip over to the fridge in response. And could you grab the shopping bag in there, too?” You follow his orders. You sit the heavy bag of groceries on the counter before abandoning it to focus on opening the chilled bottle. Harry watches in amusement as you concentrate on maneuvering the cork out of the bottle.

“I had a long week okay.” You justify, eventually prying the cork out.

“Why don’t you tell me about it.” He offers, placing two wine glasses in front of you to fill.

You then go on to tell him about your week, every once in a whileawhile he’ll interject to know if the person you’re talking about is the same one you mentioned in previous conversations. You were impressed at how he remembered the little things you’d mentioned previously.

For the next hour the two of you cook, laugh and dance around the kitchen. Harry shows you how to make the absolute perfect pasta from scratch, somehow managing to make you want to cook more instead of just ordering out. After dropping the flour covered pasta into the boiling water, instead of prepping for the next step, Harry grabs you by your waist and spins you around the kitchen to the beat of the music playing out of his phone.

You two wouldn't have stopped if it hadn’t been for the stupid timer. While you were mixing the eggs and cheese for the pasta sauce, Harry was telling you about a potential new recipe for his cookbook. However, all you could think about was how he still hadn’t kissed you despite there being at least two open windows this night alone. You’re only broken out of your thoughts when you see Harry turn away from the stove towards you for your thoughts. You brush off your thoughts, telling him that the recipe sounded good.

Not long after, you two finish cooking dinner. Harry let you sit at the stainless island while he plated the food before taking a seat as well. Your aprons were removed, and you two were finally digging into your creation. It had to have been the best meal you’d ever had, and you weren’t saying that just because you were hungry or because it was Harry who helped make it. You two continued chatting over dinner about your families, shows you were watching, and everything else under the sun.

“I really hope we don’t have to make dessert too. I’m in a bit of a food coma.” You huff, pushing your cleaned plate towards the middle of the island.

“Don’t worry, I already took care of that for you.” Harry chuckles, standing up from the island. He places your dishes into the sink before opening the fridge to grab a small brown box filled with your favorite sweet treat. “I know it’s your favorite.” He grins, sliding the box towards you. When you look into the box, your eyes immediately light up at what’s inside. The cupcakes Harry had you try two weeks ago were sitting in the box just for you. And you waste no time flipping the clear lid off and popping one of the cakes out. You’re so engrossed in the delicious cupcake that you don’t even notice Harry intently watching you as he leaned against the counter next to you. That is, until you set the cupcake down on the counter to take a breath and pace yourself.

“Want a bite?” You motion down to the half eaten cupcake.

“I’m good love.” Harry smiles.

“You sure, it’s a really good cupcake.” You ask again, now looking up at him.

“Positive” He snickers, noticing you had a little frosting on the tip of your nose. But before he could even swipe it away, you were already standing in front of him with the other side of the cupcake waiting for him to take a bite.

“You have to taste your work.” You insist, your smirk becoming a grin when he takes a bite. “Good, right?” You add, to which Harry nods in response.

“But you already knew that since you have frosting all over your face.” He jokes, finally wiping away the frosting from your nose with his thumb. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, from the gesture.

At that moment, Harry couldn’t take his eyes off of you, and you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. His hand still rests against your face, shifting slightly to fully cup your cheek. Both of your hearts were racing, your stomach inundated with butterflies, and your chests rising and falling quicker than before. You shift slightly towards him, with your hands coming up to rest softly against his chest, nonverbally giving him the green light. The millionth one of you were being completely honest. However, this time, he got the memo loud and clear.

His free hand goes to your hip, gliding around to the small of your back to press you further into him. And without any further delay, Harry finally and firmly plants his lips on yours. It’s as if your entire body takes a big sigh of relief, instantly relaxing into his touch. In that moment, you two are perfectly in sync, his lips slotted with yours as he guided your movements. After a few more seconds, his lips separate from yours, allowing you both to come up for air. The both of you were panting messes, your warm breaths fanning across your faces.

“Took you long enough.” You lightly laugh as you nudge your nose against his, reaching up to wind your fingers around the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

“Well, allow me to make up for lost time.” Harry hums, smashing his lips back onto yours. He was now standing completely straight, holding you firmly against him. While his grip on you was firm, his hold was still gentle. Despite his fervent kisses, like your lips were the oxygen he needed to survive, his touch was delicate. His passion for you wasn’t overpowering; it was perfect. When you parted your lips, granting his tongue access to your mouth, he didn’t rush to cram it practically down your throat (like others in the past had). He took his time and was gentle. And all you could do was contently sigh against his lips from how absolutely perfect the moment was.

Eventually, you two flipped places with your back being now against the island. Only this time, you were being lifted up to sit on the cool steel counter. You slowly pull away from his lips, playfully snagging his bottom lip between your teeth a little as you pulled back.

“I wouldn’t want to defile your kitchen any further.” You whisper to Harry, your hands coming around from his neck back to their original spot on his chest. “Plus, I don’t intend on breaking any more of my dating rules with you tonight.” You assert. You weren’t a kiss on the first date, girl, let alone an entire make-out session like the one you enjoyed not even a minute ago.

“I’ll have you know that I’m a proper gentleman.” Harry pokes back proudly, moving back further to get a better look at you while planting his palms firmly onto the counter on either side of where you’re sitting.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” You smirk, lightly poking a finger at his chest.

“And I intend to prove it to you.” He smiles, pecking your cheek.

“Are you asking me out on another date.” Because if he was, you were definitely saying yes.

“I’m asking you out on as many as you’ll have me.” He counters, a dopey smile falling onto his face as he took your features in. Yeah, it was official…Harry was in love.

You couldn’t stop yourself from pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, giddy with the prospect of going on more dates with him in the future. Hopefully forever.

After begging Harry to let you help him with the dishes and him standing firmly in his answer of absolutely not, you were finally heading back home. And, of course, he called you an Uber back home and made sure you arrived home safely. For the rest of the night, while you were getting ready for bed and while Harry was closing the kitchen, there was a permanent smile etched onto your faces as you replayed the night's events over and over again. You both wanted to relive it in your heads as many times as possible until the next time when you two got to do it all over again.

You: i had a great time with you tonight. can’t wait to do it again soon. <3

And almost instantly you got a response back.

The Handsome Baker: I had a wonderful time as well.

Just got in.

Sleep well, and I can’t wait to see you again. <3

Seeing him mirror your little heart made it nearly impossible for you to go to bed, but you managed to eventually fall asleep. And you indeed slept well. The both of you did. And you were pleasantly greeted the next morning with a text from Harry.

The Handsome Baker: Good morning beautiful.

You should stop by the café so I can kiss you again, and again.

After rereading the text at least 100 times, you fall back into your plush pillows, staring up at the ceiling in pure bliss. Yeah, this was shaping up to be the sweetest case you’d ever take on.

❃❃❃❃❃

i hope y'all liked it ♡

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