#i sincerely hope you have the most exquisite day ever for giving me this to ponder and lose my mind over jesus christ ૮꒰ྀི ́ඉ .̫ ඉ ꒱ྀིა

[elysian-fawn]

maybe mydei is/was calling to u thru a dream... 💭

  . ۫ ꣑ৎ   . DON'T EVEN SAY THAT HELLO ???-)-)/)-??-¥\€]>??\?~??!!@#-?

live fawn reaction to seeing this in my inbox first thing in the morning : (⸝⸝⸝O ヮO⸝⸝⸝)

[jjslvt]

BEAUTIFUL REAPER ── .✦ PART ONE, ANGST, DRABBLE .ᐟ.ᐟ

⤷ rafe cameron x reader (first person pov)

masterlist // part two // notes: there will be a part two which is just going to be smut. this is a rewritten fanfic of mine from another fandom i was in last year. this was my old writing style.

and i wanna give a thank you to @bbyg4rl for helping me out a bit! 💗 as i couldn’t make up my mind lol.

Winsome and diaphanous were the way Rafe Cameron’s words came at me; he had a way of making me believe all the charming things he would say in private. He wasn’t always the most gracious at it — sometimes his emotions would be wildfire, sometimes words failed him but he could surprise me. In the best of ways.

Was it his rare, sincere smile that would bask in the warmth of a thousand suns? Was it the greasy bangs that suited his facial structures? Was it the way his light ocean-colored eyes would glimmer as soon as the light had shone on them? Was it the low tone of his voice when he whispered sweet nothings, sending shivers down my spine? Or maybe it was the way he would treat me like his treasure in private that made him seem so innocent at first.

That smile of his wasn’t a smile but a dangerous smirk that I was too blind to see, carrying a smugness. Calculated, because he knew what he was doing to me.

I don’t have to explain how devastatingly handsome Rafe Cameron is. Not only did he have an interesting personality that captivated me in every way; even with the internal sadness and darkness that shackled his tortured soul… demons he couldn’t fight but he also looked like everything I ever wanted. A nightmare masking as a daydream.

What was he, sculpted by the Greek Gods somehow?

Yet he was the most flawed being I ever had the agonizing pleasure of knowing. An ugliness that I was still drawn to. I felt as though I was put under a trance just to endure his delightful pain — and yes, it was delightful.

One day, I swear my heart would feel death from him. Maybe not in a literal sense but definitely in the way that my soul would get turned into ashes by him.

Rafe Cameron, the personification of the disturbed agony. In a hauntingly, beautiful way.

An angel is what he could have been but too bad, he was the devil. Alas, I was the mere fool caught in his trap.

Rafe had potential; it wasn’t that he didn’t have a heart. That heart was there but it had been too deeply buried in the confines of his smeared soul. Too much self-destruction had plagued him and as much as I wished to be his saving grace, I couldn’t be. No matter how hard I tried, he was lost.

And all I could do was let him drag me through this exquisite hell that would eventually destroy me.

Perhaps I was twisted too… because I couldn’t stay away.

I was in love.

This game we play… he plays, has to come to an end, eventually. I know that. This sweet torment he puts me through. The secret actions and words that made him seem as if he’s trying to romance me with the intention of what I silently weep for. As if he cares about keeping the heart he has captured.

For a moment, he gazes at me with something unreadable, making my heart feel like its swelling. Mornings like these, where I’m laying in his bed after spending the night. I was one of the lucky ones… he let me come back at least. Hope gnawed at me quietly… ‘Why is he looking at me like that?’ but hope was a cruel bitch. Promising falsity in fools like me; I wouldn’t fall for it, I would shake it off and he would look away.

He doesn’t love me. He never will.

No amount of prayers can cure my addiction; as he was the drug that I kept taking. The sweetened poison I kept letting sink into me.

I wasn’t a devil but I was ugly inside too, for I selfishly craved him back. But my love for him was real, unyielding.

Scorching my soul in its wake, fast to undo me because loving him was agony.

The unspoken words… the words of love, the deepest of my desires, the raw ones that weren’t so innocent — suffocating me each day but very slowly. Making sure I experience the most pitiful of deaths. But he knew because of those smirks and gazes he gave… he knew, deep down. Still, I tried to masquerade as a fool ignorant of my intense feelings. Parading around like he didn’t have me wrapped around his finger, that it wasn’t painfully obvious.

Does he know I’m dying? How many times has he looked at me and not realized, it’s killing me, or maybe he did — I wasn’t a mind reader.

Maybe he was the beautiful reaper, his actions were the scythe.

Why can’t I understand him?

And why did he look at me now… with mysterious eyes for that moment? Blue eyes full of something.

I’m in hell but I can’t hate it.

It’s oddly exquisite.

[broke-art]

Sandy x reader

You growled low in your throat as a woman eyed Sandy.

She rolled her eyes and you made a fist when Sandy caught your arm.

"Nice day out today, isn't it?" He asked you with the most gentle smile.

Your heart softened at his kindness and attempt to show you his loyalty. As though he hadn't seen the woman watching him.

"Yes, love. It is." You agreed giving him a gentle smile.

"You know what would make it even nicer?" The woman asked leaning against Sandy with a smile.

Sandy tensed and nervously attempted to press the woman away.

"U-Uhm."

You flicked out a throwing knife, twirling it between your fingers with a smile.

"A funeral?"

The woman flinched away and left briskly.

Sandy blew out a sigh of relief and turned to you.

"You know violence and threats won't solve anything."

You hummed as you sheathed the knife on your hip belt.

"Agreed to disagree, love. That seemed to work perfectly."

Sandy blew out a sigh.

"Someday, what will you do if that only makes things worse?"

You wrapped your arms behind his neck.

"In all honesty, I am not sure. But I am sure I'll have my better half there to help guide me through it."

Sandy stared at you in shock at first, then his expression melted into a loving smile. He accepted a kiss you pressed on his lips, then led you to a small quiet place at the beach.

You two had been planning this picnic for weeks. Yet nefarious plots or work had simply gotten in the way.  Today however, seemed perfect.

Sandy had made a special tea to calm your nerves before you two had even left. This proved to be wise as many things aggravated you. You had a short fuse, this was true. But Sandy was endlessly patient with you.

He would do his best to calm the situation before it exploded into a battle that you may or may not have been able to walk away from.

And while you both sat on the silent beach, you realized, the quiet was exquisite. Especially with Sandy finally relaxing near you.

"Sandy?"

"Yeah?" He glanced up from unpacking things.

You placed down a few plates.

"Do you ever...get tired of...me?" You asked sincerely.

"What?! What would make you think that?" Sandy leaned over and touched a hand to your cheek gently. He always rubbed his thumb over your cheek to ease you.

"It's just I'm always causing you so much trouble. And you always look so nervous when we go out together." You leaned into his hand giving him a sad but hopeful frown. "Is it tiring to have me around?"

Sandy shook his head.

"Of course not Y/n. You actually bring a little excitement into my life. While I don't always agree with you," He smiled at you gently. "I certainly would miss you if you left."

The words warmed your heart and you hugged him tightly.

Sandy returned the hug with a gentle comfort you had never found in another soul.

"Well isn't this touching?" Someone sneered behind you.

You whirled to see an odd mixture of human and spider coming over.

"The warrior wanna be and the gentle giant on a date." He mused.

Sandy pushed you behind him gently.

"Oh hey there. Care for a cup of tea?"

You frowned in confusion and touched Sandy's shoulder.

"Sandy, do you know this guy?"

The spider man laughed.

"Oh forgive me." He pulled out a long whip with a knife at the end. "I haven't introduced myself." He flicked the whip at you both and Sandy grabbed you, tugging you out of the way. "My name is Huntsman." He grinned as Sandy released you.

You grabbed a couple of your throwing knives.

"The Spider Queen would like a talk with your girlfriend." Huntsman taunted.

Sandy flinched and shook his head over his shoulder at you.

"Uhh no. You see, she and I are kinda on a date and we've been planning it fo-"

"Don't give me that." Huntsman rolled his eyes. "You can't protect her big guy. We both know you can't fight."

"We don't need to fight." Sandy I formed him with a smile. "Maybe we could talk this over with a nice cup of jas-"

Sandy never got to finish his sentence when Huntsman caught him in a we and threw him into the ocean.

"SANDY!" you screamed.

Huntsman only chuckled.

"Live a coward, die a coward."

You growled and threw your knives with one goal in mind; to kill Huntsman.

Sandy broke the webbing easily. Then swam up to the water's surface with perfect skill. Water always had been his favorite element.

But as he broke the surface of the water he spotted it. Y/n twirling a dagger in her right hand. And Huntsman pinned to a tree with several throwing knives.

"Ooh no." He mumbled swimming over.

"You're dead, spider." You growled about to run him through when you heard Sandy yell.

"Y/n! Don't it!"

You turned and stashed your dagger in one fluid movement running over to Sandy and hugging him tightly.

"I was just making sure he wouldn't follow you." The lie slipped from your lips in a falsely innocent tone. 

Sandy gave you a disbelieving look.

"Ok fine. I was tempted, but I'm doing better now!" You pointed out. "I mean I listened when you told me not to. That has to count for something, right?"

Sandy smiled and ruffled your hair.

"Of course it does. We will work on it more, ok?"

"Ok!" You chirped as he turned away. You followed him, and the two of you finished your picnic. Leaving Huntsman to his own devices.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 119: Hope

Harry was always alone.

It sounded a bit dramatic, a little pitiable, and more than a little untrue.

Because he was always out with friends. He had pub nights with large groups of people, he went and took those wine and paint classes with Luna and Ginny every other week, and a cooking class with Ron and Pansy on the off week. He met George, Ron, and Seamus for lunch on Thursday afternoons. Hermione dragged him to a book club with Draco once a month. He met Hermione for breakfast on Tuesdays and had dinner with Ron and Hermione every Monday (and often Fridays, too). Neville invited him for tea every Sunday and there was always someone different there with them.

Still, there was something that always separated him from his friends. All of his friends were buying houses, getting married, having babies, getting pets (or in Neville’s case carnivorous plants). And he was just... stuck.

���Well, well,” a smooth baritone voice said behind him, interrupting his sulk at the bar of the Leaky, and a smile tilted up the corner of Harry’s mouth against his will. “If it isn’t the savior himself.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Are you going to sit down?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at the other man.

Silver eyes gleamed in amusement, “that depends.”

“On?”

“Whether you’re going to buy me dinner. It has been a long day.”

(Read more below the cut)

“Oh?” Harry said, nudging the chair next to him back with his toe. “Well it’s a good thing I ordered the shepherd’s pie, then. You and I both know that’s always big enough for two.”

“Were you expecting me then?” Draco asked with a pleased grin as he plopped down in the chair next to him.

“Nope,” Harry said. Strictly speaking, this was true, he’d been hoping the other man might show up but not expecting him to. “I just like to have leftovers.”

Draco laughed at Harry as the bartender slid an old fashioned across the counter to him, “thank you,” Draco said, nodding to the man who all but ignored him.

Harry inhaled to say something about the man’s rudeness (an action he knew was futile since he’d done it several times) but Draco put a hand on his arm and took a sip of his drink. “Not worth it,” he said.

Harry sighed at him, “Tell me about work.”

Draco grinned, it was a sort of grin that Harry used to hate when they were younger. It was a grin that meant Draco had been particularly vicious in the courtroom today. With relish he began telling Harry about the woman and her child whom he had defended against a powerful, abusive husband. How he’d eviscerated the man on the stand and freed the two of them from his grasp.

“It was brilliant,” he finished with a sigh.

“Sounds like it,” Harry replied, resting his cheek in his hand.

Draco gave him a little smile. It had taken a long time to get here, even a year ago Draco would have been looking at him, trying to work out if Harry had meant it sincerely. “Tell me about your day,” he said.

“Oh, you know how it is,” Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sitting around in board meetings, trying to make sure that the people who actually know something get heard. Watching people who only want what’s best for themselves trying to make people believe they want what’s best for everyone.”

He laughed and took a sip of his drink, “I don’t understand how or why you do it.”

“Well someone’s got to, don’t they?” he asked. “Might as well use my fame to some advantage. Help people. You know,” he said, shrugging one shoulder and picking at the label on his beer.

“Come away with me,” Draco said suddenly.

“Sorry?”

The other man grinned at him, “I’m going on vacation. I’m leaving tomorrow for a week on the beach on an island. Come with me.”

“What? Why?”

The smile that had been so bright a moment ago started to dim, “Nevermind. It’s a stupid idea. Forget I said anyth-”

“Draco,” Harry said, realizing he’d misunderstood. He put his hand on his forearm. “I’d love to. Seriously, I would love nothing more than to go and spend a week on the beach with you. I just,” he trailed off, “why would you want me to?”

“Because you’re always moping. And you’re always doing things for everyone else. And you’re bloody lonely.” He shook his head, “And no one sees it.”

“Except you, apparently,” Harry huffed.

The corner of Draco’s mouth tipped up, “Except me. Come on,” he said.

“Seriously?”

“Yes, Potter. Fucking seriously.”

----------------------------

The beach was fantastic.

Harry had never been to the beach for a vacation and he enjoyed every sun soaked minute.

Draco watched him with an expression that Harry couldn't entirely parse out. It was amused, and fond, and exasperated, and something else entirely all at once. "I don't get you," Draco said eventually, after they'd spent half the day by the ocean; lounging, swimming, drinking, and laughing.

"What do you mean?"

Draco shrugged and took a sip of his sangria before he continued, "You're wealthy, you have time, you obviously enjoy it here; why haven't you done this before?"

He frowned, "Well who wants to go on a vacation alone?"

The corner of Draco's mouth tipped up, "I'd planned to go alone. I have actually taken several vacations alone."

"Sorry, I didn't mean-"

Draco waved him off, "It's fine. I'm not offended I just," he shrugged helplessly, "I find you fascinating."

"You find me fascinating?" he asked incredulously.

"Haven't I always?" he replied wryly.

He huffed but couldn't argue considering that he'd been equally obsessed with the other man for most of their lives at this point.

"You could have done anything," Draco said, "There's nothing that the wizarding world wouldn't have given you. If you'd wanted to go on vacation and not be alone you could have had your pick of witches or wizards who would have gladly gone with you. If you wanted to be married with half a dozen children all you would have needed to do was pick the person." He shook his head, "You could have done anything you wanted, been anything you wanted, had anything you wanted but you've chosen a career that makes you miserable and you've chosen to be alone which makes you miserable." He shook his head again, "I don't get it."

"But how can I know if I'm actually good enough?" Harry asked. "How can I know if I'm good at my job or if it was just given to me because I'm Harry Potter? How can I know if the person who agrees to marry me is with me because I'm me or because I'm Harry Potter?"

"All this time I thought that you weren't on to me," he teased.

He rolled his eyes, "You know what I mean."

"You know what I think?" Draco asked as he leaned back in his beach chair and slipped his sunglasses back in place.

"I couldn't possibly guess," he replied.

The corner of Draco's mouth tipped up, "I think you're just scared."

He frowned at the other man even though Draco wasn't looking at him, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me perfectly," he replied, "You're scared."

"Of what?" he asked incredulously.

"Of being loved," he said simply. "Afraid that if you let someone love you, you'll have to let them in. You'll have to let them see all the dark, broken, twisty bits because it's not love if it's not honest."

"Oh and I suppose you're so much better at that," he snapped.

Draco snorted, "Hardly. I'm just willing to live my life until I've found someone who I'll be able to share those jagged pieces with."

He glared at the leg of the other man's chair, "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Alright," Draco replied agreeably.

"I'm going for a walk."

He nodded and yawned, "I think I'm going to take a nap, the sun feels nice."

Harry got up and trudged away without another word, trying to decide if Draco Malfoy was full of shit or if he might just know what he was talking about.

The longer he walked and the more he turned what Draco had said over and over in his head, the more he knew that the only person whom he would trust to see his dark bits was Draco Malfoy.

----------------------

When he got back from his walk Draco was reading a book.

"You might be right," Harry said.

He hummed, "Not to brag but I usually make a point of being right."

Harry collapsed into the sand and stared out at the waves rolling in. "Can I ask you something?"

"Nothing has stopped you so far."

He huffed, "Have you ever been in love."

"Yes," the other man replied.

"How did you know?" Harry asked.

Draco hummed thoughtfully, "I woke up one day and realized that I loved his imperfections more than I loved the perfect image I'd created of him," he said. "I realized that I'm happiest when I'm with him, that he makes me feel brave in my fear and strong in my vulnerability."

"He sounds pretty great," Harry said, swallowing down the bitterness.

"He's also completely oblivious," Draco added. "And normally that would irritate me but his humility is part of his charm."

His heart beat a little quicker, "Is that so?"

Draco grinned, "Yes. And he's not too bad on the eyes, either," he added. "He's got a lovely complexion, fantastic long, dark hair. And his eyes," he let out a low whistle, "A bloke could get lost in those eyes and he wouldn't mind staying in the lovely green of summer."

Harry's mouth went dry and he couldn't quite find any words or summon any courage. Hope blossomed dangerously inside of his chest, expanding and expanding until Harry feared there wasn't room for a shred of doubt.

"He's rather fit, too," Draco continued, giving Harry a once over that even he wasn't oblivious enough to have missed. "And you wouldn't believe his arse," he added, "exquisite."

Harry laughed at that, "You're ridiculous," he said as he bent toward the other man. "I like you, too," he whispered.

"Took you long enough to figure it out," Draco teased.

He reached up and pulled Draco's sunglasses off his face, "I'm going to kiss you," he murmured.

"Took you long enough," he repeated before reaching up to cup Harry's cheek in his palm and draw Harry in.

With a sigh, Harry happily gave himself over to the kiss, over to Draco; knowing that his heart was finally in good hands.

-------------

Day 118: Glass | Day 120: Tough

[heezoneie]

Enhypen: when you wake them up just to say "I love you"

i love this one 🥺! thank you for the request! <3

group: enhypen

member: all

genre: the fluffiest

word count: 1.5k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Heeseung: You had just gotten home from a long day at school/work, and all you wanted to do was cuddle with your boyfriend and eat some food. As you set your stuff down, you looked around noticing your boyfriend was no where to be seen. You looked at the time on your watch: 8:30 pm. “It’s not that late,” you thought. Making your way to your shared bedroom, you saw the door slightly ajar. You quietly pushed opened the door and walked in to see your boyfriend passed out in the middle of the bed. Smiling fondly, you walked up to Heeseung. His adorable face was squished against the pillow, and to you that was the best sight ever. After admiring Heeseung for a little, you went to put on some more comfortable clothes for the night. You crawled into bed and snuggled up to Heeseung. His eyes fluttered open. “Hi baby,” He said with a raspy voice. Looking at him, your eyes held nothing but pure adoration for him. “Hey,” you whispered. He put his face in the crook of your neck, “When did you get home?” “Just now, you look so cute while you sleep,” you mused. He buried his face deeper as heat rose to his cheeks. A comfortable silence fell, and neither of you wanted to leave your current position. “I love you,” You said with sincerity. Heeseung’s eyes met with yours, and he leaned in to connect your lips. “I love you too.”

Jay: The journey home was long. Sitting in the back of the travel van, Jay rested on your shoulder. You had your earbuds in, listening to whatever shuffled through your playlists. While one hand was latched with Jay’s, you used the other to adjust the air to make sure it wasn’t too cold for him. The passing lights mixed with the moon beams cascaded onto your boyfriends face. You didn’t think it was possible for someone to look so ethereal. Even though he wasn’t all dressed up as he normally is, you couldn’t have been more in love. His dark hair falling over his forehead perfectly, while his body was covered in a simple sweatshirt and a pair of shorts. You were truly in love. You began to pepper kisses lightly over his face. Lifting his head up, he looked at you with droopy eyes. “How did i get so lucky?” You said without thinking. A blush found it’s way to the tips of his ears and cheeks. “Honey....” He trailed off, taken back from just waking up. It wasn’t very often Jay got flustered like this. You decided to take it to your advantage. “I’m so in love with you, I don’t think you understand.” Jay could see the genuine glint of love in your eyes. “I love you too, honey.” He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, leaving you falling deeper in love with the boy in front of you.

Jake: The sun was beginning to set, the purple and pink hues in the sky slowly dissipating into the twinkling black night. Your head rested on Jake’s chest as you two stared at the stars. It was a normal thing for you two to go stargazing. There was something so special and intimate about the moments that only you, Jake, and the stars would ever know about. The countless kisses and jokes made under the stars were something that you couldn’t replace with anything else. You had been rambling about a possible shooting star, when you noticed Jake’s breathing had gotten heavier and slower. You looked up from you position on his chest, to see your amazing boyfriend illuminated by stars. The shine of moonlight graced his face like a painting made by the most exquisite of artists. Every detail of him made you fall deeper and deeper into him. Moving some hair out of his eyes, you whispered, “I love you, so much. I’ll never be able to express how much Jake.” His mouth curved up into his heart-melting smile. “I’m glad we feel the same way angel.”

Sunghoon: Curled up under blankets, you and Sunghoon’s eyes were glued to the tv in font of you. You guys were having your annual movie night. Typically, it would be loud, as the other boys join you, but tonight they were all busy doing who knows what. Of course, neither you nor Sunghoon were complaining, this just meant more alone time. With their comeback happening, you and Sunghoon haven’t been able to be alone, him doing show after show, stage after stage. Being the supportive s/o you were, you made sure not to complain, all you wanted was to see your boy happy. You began to notice how Sunghoon’s eyes started to get heavier, trying to stay awake for you. You slowly reached your hand to his head, tangling your fingers in his soft hair. After his eyes finally shut, you placed a kiss on his head, “I love you Hoonie.” Too tired to make coherent words, Sunghoon snuggled impossibly closer as to return the gesture.

Sunoo: The sounds of the rain and the soft music leaving the speaker filled the silence of the room. The space illuminated by the candles lit on the bedside table. Even though it was a rainy and cold day, you couldn’t help but relish in the time you were being granted with Sunoo. You both were cuddled together under the fluffy comforter in his bed. You two had been in his room for the past couple hours, hiding from his fellow members, and cherishing being with each other. The day consisted of you two whispering sweet little words and playful cuddles, falling deeper in love. You did whatever you could to make sure you got see the beautiful smile that could easily put any diamonds or gems to shame. After deciding to rest, Sunoo fell asleep rather quickly, leaving you time to admire his features. A quiet “I love you,” slipped past your lips and into his ears. Despite being in dreamland, he still heard you. Mumbling a sleepy, “I love you too,” Sunoo’s grasp on you tightened. Smiling softly at the sight, you laid your head down and followed him into a deep sleep.

Jungwon: Gathering every pillow in sight, you and Jungwon began to build the most epic pillow fort anybody could have seen. Laughing amongst yourselves, the other members helped bring you guys blankets for your little fort. After about an hour of trial and error, you both finally were able to find a sturdy way to keep your fort from falling. Setting up extra blankets and pillows, you both cocooned yourselves together in the fort. A laptop sitting in the middle of the fort played a movie, which helped give some light in your otherwise dark space. Adjusting to a more comfortable position, you and Jungwon tangled your legs together. Your head in the crook of his neck, and his own resting over top yours. Jungwon soon fell asleep, unbeknownst to you. Hearing some mumbling coming from the boy, you assumed he was still awake. Some more incoherent words fell from his lips, and you decided to speak up, “Wonie? I can’t understand what your saying.” Lifting your head, you looked at his sleeping face. As you did so, his words began to get more clearer, “I love you...” A blush formed on your cheeks, and you laid your head back down. “I love you too, Wonie.”

Ni-ki: Riki had come to spend the day with you at your house, as he had time away from the company. He arrived at your house around lunchtime, with a bag of food he picked up on his way over. After eating the food, you both retreated to your living room to hang out. “We should play Just Dance,” Riki said looking over to you. “Nooo, you know your gonna beat me. You have an unfair advantage.” You huffed. Chuckling, he stood up to turn on the game system anyways. He walked back over to where to sat on the couch, and handed you a controller. “Get up, we are gonna have fun. If it makes you feel better we can do the team setting so you are guaranteed to do good.” He offered. Deciding to participate, you stood up. “Fine, but ONLY if we do teams.” Smiling, he pulled you to the middle of the room and you two began your Just Dance marathon. After a couple of hours, you both collapsed on the couch, Riki on top of you. “Wow, i’m so tired after that. I feel like i just ran 80 miles.” Laughing at your statement, Riki found himself falling asleep rather quickly to the feeling of your hand running through his hair. Feeling his breathe even out, you whispered a quiet “I love you,” in his ear. “I love you too,” he whispered back. After some time, you realized you were both sweaty, “Riki, we both need to go take showers.” As he lifted his head, you saw a mischievous smile on his face. Looking at him questionably, his hands rose to your sides and began tickling you. It was safe to say neither of you got to take a shower for a while.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~I hope you all enjoyed! feel free to send in any requests, thoughts, or ideas! <3

[jaehyunfirstlove]

It’s your birthday, make a wish...

Happy birthday to me! Here have some self-indulgent smut (yes it’s inspired by the english version and yes I will be listening to it all day lol)

Genre: smut (18+ only please)

Warnings: oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk, food play, fingering

It was the first birthday you were celebrating with your new boyfriend, Jaehyun, and you honestly didn’t know what to expect. You woke up that morning to see he’d left early, with a cryptic post-it on his pillow that just said wait for it. The doorbell rang then, which made you jump.

When you answered the door there was a package on your doorstep, with no return address. You looked around but there was no delivery-person or vehicle around, and the street was quiet. You brought the package inside and opened it, and gasped at what you saw. The most exquisite cashmere throw blanket lay wrapped in delicate tissue, a note tucked into the folds.

I know you like soft things, and that you get cold when we sit on the couch and watch movies

Happy birthday, love, xxx

You wanted to cry, but at the same time you were shocked at the extravagance. You picked up your phone to call your boyfriend, hoping he wasn’t too busy, but sure enough he answered on the first ring.

“Hey baby, happy birthday!” he sounded upbeat but out of breath, obviously on the way somewhere.

“Hey babe, thanks so much for the present-” you started, but he interrupted you with a joyous yelp.

“Yes! You got it! How do you like it? Do you love it?” he was so excited that you felt bad you were about to chastise him for spending too much money.

“Of course I love it, but don’t you think it’s too much?” you said as gently as possible.

“Nope,” he said simply, “And if you think that’s bad, you’ll hate me because there’s more on the way.”

You were about to protest when he suddenly said he had to go, but not before ending the call by saying “your real present is coming when I get home” in the most mischievous voice.

Over the next few hours he was true to his word, with more presents arriving at your doorstep, every one more extravagant than the one before it. After every one you tried to call him but he never answered, so you sent messages which were also left unanswered.

You loved him but you wanted to kill him, and by the time he came home your emotions were so mixed up you didn’t know whether to get mad or throw your arms around him.

“Honey, I’m home!” he yelled from the front door, so you got up from the floor of the living room where you had been sitting in a daze, surrounded by expensive presents, discarded wrapping paper and ribbons.

You faced him with your hands on your hips, but he was standing there with the most beautiful bouquet of flowers in one hand, and a cake from your favorite bakery in the other, the widest smile on his face. There was no way you could stay mad.

“Goddammit,” you swore under your breath. Those dimples just had to make an appearance and you were putty in his hands.

He just threw his head back and laughed, he knew exactly what an effect he had on you and had no shame in exploiting it. You sighed in defeat and took the flowers from his hands to put in water, and you were about to take the cake but he stopped you.

“I have different plans for this cake,” he said with a wink, “meet me in the bedroom.”

You went to the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase, wondering why he had brought the cake to the bedroom. You weren’t prepared for what you saw when you walked in. The room was dim, the cake in the middle of the bed with the candles lit, flower petals littering the bed around it. Jaehyun was standing by the bed with the most satisfied look on his face.

“Oh my god,” was all you could say, your hand going to your mouth. “Are we seriously eating on the bed?”

He only smirked and motioned for you to come to him. “You’ll enjoy it, I promise.”

You still weren’t sure what he was up to until he took a swipe of the icing from the cake and smeared it on your neck.

“Happy birthday,” he whispered, before licking the icing off your neck, and then sucking on the spot where it had been. Your knees buckled and you gasped, completely unprepared for his assault on your sweet spot. He caught you handily and lay you back on the bed, careful not to squish the cake.

“You better blow out the candles before they set the bed on fire,” he said, in between kisses down the column of your neck. Your mind was already in a haze, his tongue on your skin setting your body on fire, but you managed to turn your head to blow the candles out.

“Did you make a wish?” he asked, his hands moving down your body, trailing kisses as he went.

“Y-yes,” you managed to squeak out, as he got to your waist and toyed with the button of your jeans.

“I hope it comes true,” he said sincerely, sitting up on his heels to pull your jeans and panties off.

You bit your lip as you watched your boyfriend hover above you, staring at you with hooded eyes, lips flushed from kissing your body. Your wish had already come true when you met him.

He licked his lips and took another swipe of the cake with his fingers, painting the inside of your thighs with it. You jolted slightly at the coldness of it, but then he swept in with his tongue and licked it off, first one side, then the other.

“Mm, so sweet,” he said in a low voice, the rumble of it so close to your core you were sure you were already wet.

“Jae-” you gasped, as he got closer and closer, each time taking a swipe of icing and painting your skin with it, as if he were marking a trail to your core.

“You taste so good,” he rasped, as he sucked the icing off your skin, but finally he was there, his hot breath on you, and your knees shook in anticipation.

He didn’t give a warning, just his tongue swiping obscenely up your slit, forcing you to arch your back and grip the sheets, your knees automatically closing in to cage him. He grabbed a hold of your thighs and forced them apart, opening you up to him further. He licked and sucked and you thrashed like you were in pain but in reality, it was the most insane form of pleasure you could ever experience.

You couldn’t stop moaning as he went on, fairly certain you’d lose your voice by the end of the night, but he wasn’t letting up. He groaned as he licked, and you were always thankful for how vocal he was as he ate you out, the combination of his tongue on you and the rumble of his deep voice sending you into a euphoric bliss.

You lost track of how many orgasms you’d had, but then his lips wrapped around your clit and he sucked rather harshly, and you thought you would pass out. He slipped two fingers deeply into you then, hitting your spot over and over again and you came hard, stars exploding behind your eyes.

You tangled your fingers in his hair as you came down from your high, as he planted soft kisses on your overheated skin. He finally smiled up at you, and you blushed to see your juices coating his lips and chin.

“That’s just the beginning,” he said with a sly smile, “we still have a lot of cake left.”

[miss-smutty]

A/N - I've literally been gone for months 😱😭 I've been so busy with my business I lost my writing mojo again. I'm sorry @swaggysposts you've waited so long for your request but here it is, I hope you like it.

Request- "How about Thor x reader wedding night....Having a wedding in the Avengers Facility with the Avengers.....And Tony letting them use his Malibu home for their wedding night....

The reader is a virgin and nervous about the whole sex thing.....Thor feels her nervousness.... Thor eases her nervousness by playing and dancing around in the Malibu Mansion and they do tequila body shots between each other and they have skinny dipping in the pool And they both get turned on and they have a intimate first time by Thor's sweet gesture 😍😍

Word count- 4,651 (sorry it's so long 🙊)

Warnings- Swearing, smut, unprotected sex

Taglist-: @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap

Posted: 29th April 2021

18+ only!!

Blushing Bride

"3… 2… 1!" Everyone in the room shouted gleefully.  You reached down and threw your beautiful sunflower bouquet back into the crowd. Turning around to watch where it lands, smiling from ear to ear as you watch your girlfriends scramble to catch the falling flowers.

Nat clambers over people unapologetically, elbowing your cousin in the face as she reaches into the air and catches the bouquet with one hand. There's cheers as she arrogantly side-eyes the other girls shamelessly, you notice as she catches Bucky's eye from across the room, confirming the suspicions you've had for a while. Hopefully you'll get chance to question her about that later on.

You scan the room until your eyes lay on the person you were looking for - your handsome husband.

Thor can't take his eyes off of you, his beautiful bride, you blush under his stare and laugh when you realise the cliche of now being his beautiful blushing bride.

You've never seen him in a suit before and he looks completely ravishing, his broad frame filling out the navy blue, fitted suit, impeccably. He's talking to Tony and Pepper and by the way they all keep looking over at you, you realise you're the subject of their conversation.

"So, you're finally Queen Odinson" Tony greets you as you make your way over to join them, hitching up the long train of your dress. You feel like a queen in your exquisite wedding gown, the way it drapes on your curves perfectly. It's a little difficult to walk in especially with how clumsy you are but it makes you feel amazing.

"Wow, it feels so strange when you say that." You smile widely, reaching up on your tiptoes to kiss Thor's cheek.

"You've always been my Queen." His grin is equally as wide as yours as he wraps his arm around you, gazing down at you proudly.

"Don't mind us" Tony says sarcastically, rolling his eyes and then laughing when Pepper playfully hits his arm.

"Oh don't worry, we won't. I've been waiting for this day since… Forever" 

"I know, Thor what took you so long?" Tony jokes.

"I have wanted to make Y/N my Queen since the first moment I set eyes on her" Thor says seriously, Tony's rhetorical joke going straight over his head. 

"Yeah, we get it Point Break. Now I have a wedding gift for you both." 

"Ohh yes, you're going to love it" Pepper adds excitedly, clapping her hands together enthusiastically.

"We want to invite you to spend your honeymoon in our Malibu mansion, so what d'ya think?" Tony asks.

"Oh my god! No way! We'd love to." You exclaim, looking at Thor for his approval and squeeling excitedly when he nods in agreement.

"Good, now you better go mingle. I can see your mom shooting me daggers for hogging you both for too long" he smiled warmly. You reach up to kiss his cheek and wrap your arms around pepper tightly.

"Thank you so much you two, you're the best" you say excitedly.

"Yes we are and don't forget it" Tony laughs.

Thor takes your hand in his and leads you to the dancefloor to join your friends. As he wraps his arms around your waist he leans down to whisper in your ear.

"You look radiant, my love. I can't wait until we're alone" He says sincerely.

You feel a tightness in your throat at his words and quickly try to swallow it away, gulping nervously. You were a virgin and the thought of Thor having literally hundreds of years more experience than you, terrifies the life out of you. 

"Your brother looks like he's having a good time" you say sarcastically, changing the subject strategically when you spot Loki over Thor's shoulder. Of course he didn't look happy at all, stood in the corner on his own with a face like thunder.

Thor spins you around so he can see for himself, a smile tickling the corner of his mouth when he realises you were joking.

"You know Loki, he can't stand anybody else being happy. Especially me. This must be torture for him" He laughs, the smile on his face crinkling the corners of his eyes as he gazes down at you. Your own cheeks aching from the smile that hasn't left your face for the whole day.

"Are you sad that the rest of your family and friends aren't here?" You ask, resting your head on his chest and feeling his heart beating.

"Of course not, my love. We will see them soon." he smooths his hand down the back of your head.

Thor had promised to give you your perfect wedding, everything you'd ever dreamed of and then later you would go to Asgard and have a traditional Asgardian ceremony too. The thought of it made you extremely nervous, you had no idea what to expect but imagined you would be surrounded by beautiful Gods and Goddesses and the idea of it made your stomach sink.

You danced the night away with your friends and Thor until your feet could no longer hold you up and you collapsed, exhausted into Thor's arms.

"I think it's time to get you home, my love" Thor whispers into your ear.

"I don't want it to end yet" you whine, clasping your hand to your mouth to stifle a yawn. The tiredness suddenly washing over you all at once.

"Don't worry, the night has only just begun" Thor said his eyes glistening with excitement. Butterflies flutter in your stomach with anticipation, nerves and excitement mixing together until you didn't quite know which was the most dominant feeling. 

                        *********************

You can't contain your excitement as you finally see  Tony's mansion set upon the cliffside, over-looking Malibu beach. The futuristic looking building with the glass walls is absolutely breathtaking, definitely everything you imagined Tony's house to be.

As you step inside the house the first thing you notice is how open and clean everything is. The glass wall runs the entire length of the room, it's like you could practically walk out into the sea.

"Welcome to your honeymoon home, Mr and Mrs Odinson. I am J.A.R.V.I.S and I am here to assist you with anything you may need during your stay." J.A.R.V.I.S says through the integrated speakers. 

"Oh my god!" You squeel.

"Who said that?" Thor asks looking around the room, confused. The look on his face is comedic but you stop yourself from laughing to save Thor from embarrassment.

"It's J.A.R.V.I.S" You answer shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly.

"But who is Jarvis? Are we not alone?" Thor asks, eyes wide, still scanning the room for an unseen person.

You giggle at Thors innocence. "I think it's one of Tony's intelligent system thingies, am I right J.A.R.V.I.S?" You laugh when Thor looks at you like you're mad.

"You are right Mrs Odinson, I am Just A Rather Very Intelligent System but you may call me J.A.R.V.I.S. Is there anything else I can help you with?" 

"Not right now, thank you J.A.R.V.I.S" 

"I don't like the thought of somebody watching us, especially on our wedding night" Thor gets that glint in his eyes again.

"He's a computer babe, I think we're safe." You chuckle light heartedly, gliding along the smooth marble floor to stand in front of the enormous window.

"Wow! I bet that view is beautiful in the daylight." You say, changing the subject. 

"Not even half as beautiful as you" Thor says as he comes up behind you and pushes your hair to one side so he can press his lips softly to your neck. Your hairs stand on end as he sends shivers through your entire body. You feel electrically charged by his touch, your body tingling with energy.

Thor feels your body go ridgid against him, he can sense your nervousness and does his best to calm you.

"Are you ok, my love?" He whispers softly as he strokes the goosebumps that have appeared on your arms.

You turn around to face him, placing your hands on his chest to reassure him but avoiding those piercing blue eyes.

"I'm ok." You lie.

"You are not ok, please tell me your worries" he lifts your face to look at him and you cave when you see that gentle, pressing look on his face.

"Fine." You sigh "This is my first time, but you… You've been with hundreds. No, probably thousands of women. How could I not be worried?"

"They will never compare to you" He smiles genuinely. You're not going to lie, the thought of him with even one other woman makes you feel slightly sick.

"You don't know that." Looking away again, unable to concentrate when you look into his deep blue eyes.

You didn't want to believe that he was being sincere, how could he be? Thousands of women, there's absolutely no way you could even slightly compare. Thinking about it was making you even more nervous, you had experience with other sexual things but you were still a virgin. Growing up with religious parents that had drilled it into you that you mustn't have sex until you were married. You knew it was possibly all bullshit, just another thing made up to control women but still there's always a chance it wasn't and you didn't want to take the risk of spending your afterlife in hell. So you'd been a good little girl and restrained yourself through the absolute torment of college and the multiple boyfriend's who had never been able to last longer than a couple of months before they dumped you or cheated on you. Then you met Thor, he was different to anyone you'd ever met and not just the fact he was an actual god - but he was a gentleman.

"I do because I have never loved anyone the way I love you." You look up at him slowly, smiling shyly when you catch his eye. The things he said definitely helped ease your mind a little.

"Just don't worry about it, ok my love? We'll take things slow." He adds, kissing your forehead.

"Ok… Now can we try and find some alcohol to loosen up a little?" 

"Do you not think you've had enough?" He asks, cocking his head to the side to examine your level of drunkenness.

"I think my nerves have sobered me up." You pout playfully, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Well then what are you waiting for? Let's find this alcohol." He grabs your hand and hurries through the room, dragging you along, laughing behind him. You have to run to keep up to him, his long legs making him much faster than you. 

"Oh my god, Thor. You almost pulled my arm out." You laugh stopping to catch your breath, the house so big that it took a lot longer than expected to make it to the kitchen.

You spied a hamper that had been left on the kitchen counter, behind Thor. A bottle of champagne with two flutes, some bottles of spirits and a huge crate of Thors favourite ale - Peppers idea you guessed.

"Wait! Stop!" Thors tone makes you freeze on the spot, the bottle of champagne ready to be popped in one hand.

"What's wrong?" You say, concerned. Is there a spider? Oh my god. You shake your hair and pat your body in a frantic manner. "Thor what is it?" he was just stood there looking amused.

"Nothing. I just realised this is the first time that I've had you to myself all day. I need a kiss" he moves over to you with his lips pursed in an exaggerated way.

"You idiot, I thought there was a spider" you say, giggling when he grabs hold of you and wraps his arms tightly around your waist. He rubs his rough beard against your cheek playfully, making you giggle and squirm as his bristles tickle your skin. His hands are clasped around your stomach, lifting your feet from the ground, while you try and fail to get away from him and his tickling.

"Thor, stop. I can't breath." You laugh breathlessly. 

Lifting you up effortlessly, he sits you down on the kitchen counter and nestle's himself in-between your legs. Looking at him closely, you realise just how beautiful he is and how lucky you are that he's your husband. 

"What are you thinking?" Thor asks, making you realise you were day dreaming and lost in a trance when Thor spoke.

"I'm not telling you." You tease, closing your mouth tightly.

"You do know now we're married, you have to tell me everything" 

"Everything?" You probe.

"Yes, absolutely everything."

"Fine, I was thinking about how lucky I am to be married to you." You roll your eyes at how soppy you sound, you're not usually one for romantic gestures and Thor knows that. You find it hard to take a compliment and even harder to give one. 

Thor on the other hand, found it completely natural to take and give compliments. He did however have a lifetime to perfect it, so had a slight advantage. 

"I am the lucky one" Looking in your eyes confidently as he speaks, there was definitely no denying the way he felt about you "Now stop rolling your eyes and give me a kiss." 

Thor pulls your face towards him, his lips parting when they connect with yours. The alpha in him taking control of the kiss. You follow his lead heartily, your lips moving together in perfect synchronisation. 

The way you kiss easing your mind a little, your bodies moved together fluently like they were made for each other. The excitement began to rise in you, everything was so effortless when you were together. You know now you were silly to feel worried, that as long as you let your body do the work and don't over-think things, your love for each other will lead the way. Your bodies spoke to each other like old friends, it was just your damn mind that was the problem. Which is why you planned on shutting it up with alcohol, lots of alcohol. 

"Can we go see the pool?" You break away from the kiss too quickly, leaving Thor with his lips still pursed and eyes still closed. The adrenaline was taking over and there was no time to waste.

'Anything for you, my love." He makes his way towards the stairs that lead to the garden.

"Wait, let's take this." You say holding up a bottle of tequila, limes and a couple of shot glasses, then rummaging around the cupboards to find the salt.

"Tony certainly has good taste in liquor, how did he know tequila is my favourite? Or did you have something to do with this?" You ask Thor, the mischievous grin on his face already answering your question.

"Nothing to do with me" he lies, trying to look as innocent as possible.

"Are you trying to get me drunk Mr Odinson?" You say sultrily, smiling when you see excitement flashing in his eyes.

"Of course not Mrs Odinson, now come on let's drink." He takes your hand and leads you to the stairs, you have no idea which way to go but Thor's instincts seem to know the way. The house was so big you thought it would be pretty easy to get lost in it, you wonder how many rooms there are? How many bathrooms? You couldn't wait to explore tomorrow but tonight was all about you and your husband.

                              **************

As you turn the corner, the enormous infinity pool comes into view. From where you're standing the pool appears to stretch out into the ocean, you can't wait to see the view of the ocean in the daylight. The pool is illuminated with underwater spotlights and dimly lit, warm solar lights surround the edge of it. 

"Oh my god, this is amazing!" You stand with your mouth agape looking around you while Thor comes up behind you and places his hands on your hips.

"Shall we try it out?" He asks, whispering against your neck and making you shudder in the warm breeze.

"Yes! But first…" You dangle the bottle of tequila in front of Thor.

Thor pulls a couple of sun loungers out, lifting them into the air effortlessly, like he was moving a feather and not two big, heavy, wooden sun loungers. You swoon at the sight of him, his biceps bulging against the tight fabric of his suit. The thought of running your hands all over his naked body making you feel hot and bothered. How could this beautiful man be your husband?

You realised you still had your wedding dress on when you tried to bend to sit down on the low sun lounger. The tight fabric of your dress restraining against you, threatening to tear.

"Thor, will you unzip the back of my dress please? I need to take it off" you ask nonchalantly, stretching your arms behind you and trying to reach the zip. 

"What? Here?" He asks, his mouth agape as he watches you trying to undress.

"Yes, there's no one around for miles and I can't move in this thing" 

You can hear him gulp from where you were sitting, his Adams apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows back air. You take note of the way he tugs on the collar of his shirt, loosening it slightly. Were you making him nervous? You had to admit, it made you feel good to watch your big, tough man with years of experience become nervous at your words.

"And as hot as you do look in that suit, I think it's time to take it off." 

"What do you mean?" Thor looks shocked at your forwardness. The suprise on his face almost comical.

"Have you ever done a body shot?" You ask while he unzips your dress, teasing him and enjoying it more than you should.

"What is that?" He asks, his eyes drawn to you while you step out of your heavy dress, folding it carefully and putting it on the back of the sun lounger.

"Take off your clothes and I'll show you." You smile, standing confidently in the lingerie you bought especially for this moment - a lacy, ivory all in one.

The way his eyes lingered on your body made you feel like a goddess and that hungry look in his eyes made you want to rip his clothes off.

Thor took off his jacket hastily and paused while unbuttoning his shirt, looking up at you.

"I thought you were a virgin?" He looks hurt, like you'd been lying about being a virgin for all this time.

"I said I was a virgin, you know I have experience with other things." You lift your eyebrows at him and roll your eyes.

"You just don't seem very nervous anymore?" 

"Only because I'm comfortable with you Thor, I know I can be myself with you and there's no one better for me to have my first time with." You watch Thor's tension ease, the tightness of his arms relaxing. "Now lay back." You demand, unscrewing the lid on the bottle of tequila.

Thor lays back on the lounger with his arms resting behind his head, holding his neck up so he could watch what you were doing fascinatingly. The sight of his bare chest made you feel weak, the chiselled abs sent tingles through your body. You tried to push your thoughts aside while you concentrated on pouring a shot of tequila, your hands visably shaking and spilling some of the liquid on the floor. 

You place the cut lime into Thor's mouth, the juicy part facing out and pause to giggle at how silly he looks.

"Just hold it there, ok?" Thor nods his head, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

Grabbing the salt from the side of you, you carefully pour a trial down his torso, stopping when you get to the hem of his boxers but secretly wishing you could go lower. Your pussy clenches as Thor's abs tense, restraining against the tickling of the grains of salt against his bare stomach.

Your eyes remain fixed on his as you lean over Thor to lick the trail of salt from his torso, making your way down to the hem of his boxers slowly. You quickly pour the burning liquid down your throat before snaking your way up his body, making sure to grind yourself against him as you take the lime from his mouth, he groans and pushes himself into you desperately.

"Mmm…  Well that was..  arousing. Is it my turn now?" He's already getting up from the lounger, hastily waiting for you to take his place and lay down.

Thor straddles over you, barely waiting for you to lay back and get comfy before he's pouring the salt along the swell of your breasts. You're thinking about his improvisation when you're distracted by the sultry smile and glint in his eyes as he licks his full lips with the tip of his tongue. 

You don't have time to think before he's leaning over and licking the salt from your cleavage, he downs the shot and takes the lime from your mouth. You stare wide eyed at the almost other worldly speed of your husband - why the rush?

Thor sucks on the flesh of the fruit before throwing the skin to the side and leaning in to give you a sticky, citrusy kiss. Leaving your mouth parted and wanting more when he stands up, yanks down his boxers and jumps straight into the pool. The whole thing passed by in a blur and it took you a moment for your brain to catch up and process what was happening.

You smile down at your husband in the water as he comes up to the surface and smooths his wet hair back from his face. He looks like a damn model, the water dripping from his face.

"Come on, the waters lovely." He urged.

All of a sudden you feel shy again, you know you're not going to be able to resist each other for much longer. Understanding now why Thor was so hasty, his adrenaline was in overdrive and come to think of it, so was yours. 

Your hands begin to shake and you don't know if it's from the cool breeze or the nerves. You're feeling a little reserved now, all your big girl talk fading now the moment is almost here. You pour yourself a couple more shots and down them both one after the other, hardly whincing as the liquor burns your throat.

Finally you bite the bullet and shimmy out of your lingerie, you try to do it sexily but the tight fabric clings to your skin making you clumsy. Still, when you look up shyly through your lashes, Thor is completely oblivious to your fumbling. The way his eyes have lit up when he watched you undress fills you with pride. One last shot for good luck before you jump into the pool to join him.

The cold water sends shocks through you, making you rise to the surface gasping for air. How the hell did Thor make it look so sexy? When you look like a spluttering fish out of water.

"Let me warm you up." He glides over to you, smoothly, moving through the water like it was his natural domain. Maybe you were trying too hard? Thinking about things too deeply, you need to calm down.

The feel of his strong arms around you instantly calm you, you wrap your legs tightly around his stomach. You can feel his cock growing against you and by the way he's biting his lip you know he's struggling to restrain himself.

Thor can feel the heat of your pussy so close to his aching cock, he wants to dive inside but knows he needs to go at your pace. His feet touch the bottom of the pool and he moves over to the edge, pushing your back gently against it.

You can feel his heart racing almost as fast as yours. He kisses you deeply, pushing himself against you. Your fingers brush against his cock making him moan in your ear. The size of him makes you even more nervous.

He kisses down your neck , your bodies grinding together. This is it.

"I want you now, Thor." You say breathlessly, panting his name while his lips press to the sensitive spot on your collar bone.

"Here?" He pulls away slightly to look at you, waiting for your approval.

"Yes" you moan, feeling the tip of his cock pressing against your opening eagerly. Your pussy ready to suck him in.

He eases in slowly. The size stretching your walls in an agonisingly pleasurable way. A breathless squeel escapes your lips making Thor stop suddenly.

"Are you ok? I'm not hurting you am I?" He stops, searching your face for an answer.

"Thor it feels amazing." You whine deeply, looking into his eyes with strong, burning love. It hurt slightly as his cock stretched you open - going where no man had been before. You were so glad you'd waited and that Thor was your first but you wish you hadn't waited this long to make love to Thor.

All that time wasted, when you could have been doing this all along.This is a whole new level of love, your bodies finally coming together as one. You feel emotional with the euphoric sensations of built up tensions. 

Thor is so gentle with you, stopping to make sure your ok as he gently thrusts himself into you. The slow pace making the pleasure even more intense as his length repeatedly hits your spot. You feel your face screwing uncontrollably as a unknown sensation rises through you, making your head feel dizzy. This new feeling feels amazing but it's something you've never experienced before. Is this normal? 

You try to push your thoughts away, reminding yourself to stay in the moment.

"Are you comfortable, do you want to go inside?" Thor asks, obviously seeing the turmoil going on inside your head.

"Please. Don't stop" You urge, hoping to feel that gripping sensation once more, desperate to explore it more.

Thor bites his lip as he carries on with his slow love making, trying more than ever to keep up the slow pace even though it is torturous for him. The way your tight walls cling to his length with ferocity, making it harder for him to contain himself.

"You feel so good" he says through gritted teeth, concentrating on the way your pussy grips onto his cock.

You're taking his cock so well, the pain has disappeared and all you feel is ecstasy. You're feeling confident that you can take more, you can let him take you freely.

"Thor, fuck me faster." You say shyly. You can see his eyes light up at your words, he was waiting so patiently for you to take the lead. Your eyes roll back as he gives you his full length, groaning into you as he grips onto your ass with both hands. The sensation takes over you once more and you ride it out, giving in to it as he continues thrusting into you faster.

"Fuck." He moans, you can feel his cock twitching inside of you as you release your orgasm, screaming out his name while his cock pumps into you.

You're both left panting, while you rest your head on his shoulder. You feel like giggling, is that normal? You're overcome with emotions all at once. This was without a doubt the most amazing feeling you have ever felt, you don't want it to stop. Lucky for you, your husband has the stamina of a god.

[bukojuiice]

baby it’s cold outside. katsuki bakugo x reader) christmas headcanons🎄

ೃ pairing: (katsuki bakugo x reader)

ೃ requested by @swankiifiied​: “hi! could i get some holiday fluff hcs w/ bakugo please?” (your wish is my command! :D hope you enjoy bub!)

ೃ  warnings: cursing (courtesy of Bakugo)

ೃ genre: fluff overload!!! ♡

ೃ    my ongoing bakugo x reader smau (please do give it a read if you have time!) my writing masterlist (if you want to see more from me! c:

)ೃ  i know i’m a day late for christmas and i’m really sorry aaa hope you guys still enjoy nonetheless ♡ tysm for 500 followers!!! it really means a lot to me and i can never thank any one enough for all the support and love.

ೃ song inspo: baby it’s cold outside (cover by Jamie and Gaho)

✧ MATCHING CHRISTMAS SWEATERSSSS!!! You would be probing and forcing Bakugo to wear this cute couple sweater set you saw in the Mall for you guys to wear for Christmas Dinner with your family. However, Katsuki will 100% disagree with your idea before you can even finish your sentence. 

  "No way in hell am I wearing some shitty and itchy fleece sweater with you." 

“SUKI-KUN PLEASE I BEG YOUUU DO IT FOR THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT.”

  You eventually got your way though. But, instead, you had to make a deal with your explosive boyfriend that he would be the one to choose the designs imprinted on your sweaters.

  Although it was a "risky deal" at least you still get to be cute and lovey dovey with him. 

  He ended up choosing some rather unique designs. His sweater was colored black with white skulls in Santa hats printed and plastered in every part of the garment. It was very Bakugo and it looked really really hot good on him. 

  Yours on the other hand, was the exact opposite of his (although the designs are a couple set) with it's lavender color, Rainbows and cute little white bunnies wearing Santa hats sprinkled everywhere... It was very girly and cutesy. 

 He's teasing you relentlessly because of how childish your sweater looks, and you snap back at him by saying that he was the one who chose this in the first place and you tease him back by saying "As long as I get to match my outfit with you I wouldn't want it any other way." 

  This catches him off guard as he blushes furiously from your quip.

  It also didn’t help that Bakugo thought you looked really hot cute in your sweater too and how it complimented your figure. Making him even more tsundere than usual. 

 As soon as he arrives at your Christmas eve dinner, your younger cousins/siblings quickly crowded around him. Showering him with compliments, asking him to showcase his quirk, asking him if he could play with them, what training to become a  pro hero is like, and what is life like studying in UA. 

You try to tell your cousins/siblings to pipe down and give your boyfriend  some space but they continue to circle around Katsuki. Pretending not to hear you.  

There was no way out of this and at the same time, Katsuki wanted to impress your family in his own little way so he pompously asks the children to follow him out to the backyard. 

You follow suit to see the mayhem and to see a heartwarming scene unfold. Not until your cool wine aunt pulls you over to tell you that you scored a good one and he looks like a keeper. You couldn’t help but smile as you quickly head out to the yard. 

You continue to admire the scene of seeing Katsuki interact rather kindly and gently to your younger cousins/siblings. It was an unusual sight. 

“Katsuki-nii-san!! Come back for New Year’s and use your quirk to light up our fireworks and new year crackers pretty please!!!”

Especially coming from Katsuki Bakugo. As he was very quick-tempered.

Your cheeky little cousin brought out a mistletoe from her bag and waved it in front of you and Katsuki. She couldn’t hold the mistletoe under the two of you because of how small she was, but she was still pushing the two of you to kiss at the presence of the small plant. 

You and Katsuki catch each other’s gaze, and stop to look at each other for a moment waiting for one another to make a move. He looks away, his mouth forming into a pout, trying his best to avoid eye contact with you so it doesn’t look too obvious that he was blushing.

He certainly wasn’t going to make the first move so you approach him dutifully at the behest of the peering eyes of your younger cousins/siblings and tiptoe to peck him on the cheek. 

The kids all simultaneously squealed in excitement. They jump for joy and began to sing in unison a song they made up on the spot: 

“(Y/N)-nee-san and Bakugo-nii-san under a mistletoe! K.I.S.S.I.N.G.!!!”

Once all the splendor had died down, and all your relatives went home, Katsuki had decided to stay for the night with the permission of your parents as you would be visiting the Bakugo’s in the morning too and the two of you could just go together. 

Your family goes up to their respective rooms to rest, leaving you and Bakugo downstairs in the kitchen to clean up a few other things. This was the perfect moment for the two of you to finally have quality time with each other specially after an entire night of socializing.

“Hey (Y/N)... Do you want some hot cocoa?” He says begrudgingly, scratching the back of his neck.

You were screaming internally. This is the first time he’s ever offered to cook/make something like this. (As the only time you’ve seen him cook up to this point was the curry incident during forest training camp.) “Yes please!!!”

You watch him make magic in your kitchen, as he carefully pours milk into both of your cups then proceeds to whisk cocoa powder and sugar, then finally, he heats both of the mugs up. 

While he continues to create what looks like the tastiest hot chocolate you have ever seen, you suddenly remembered a joke that has been in your mind since the start of December. 

“Katsuki-kun... I have a joke. A Christmas joke at that.”

“Don’t even fucking try.”

“Come onnnnn just hear me outttt.” You look at him with your most cutest puppy eyes and signature smile.

“Fine. Do your worst.”

“Okay so... what is the most attractive drink?”

“Forget what I said. Don’t you dare continue your shitty—”

“A hot chocolate.”

“(Y/N) that is the worst fucking joke I’ve ever heard in my entire life. If you think of one again, then your corny ass is never going to have a taste of this hot cocoa ever again.” He says seriously, piercing you with his death stare as he hands over the mug. 

“Ahahahah fine. This will be the last time. I promise.” You laugh sheepishly, taking a sip of the hot cocoa and immediately feel a rush of sweetness and exquisite taste from just one sip alone. “Katsuki-kun! This tastes amazing!! This is the best hot chocolate I’ve had in my entire life.”

“Of course it’s going to taste good. I made it.”  He ruffles your hair, his lips curving into a smile because of your reaction to his cooking. 

You grab his hand and take him to the living room. The fireplace still lit up, with a classic Christmas movie (Love Actually) playing on the TV, and a comfy and soft blanket sprawled upon the couch. Perfect for the two of you to wrap around yourselves and a perfect chance to cuddle with him. 

You sit down on the couch, then Katsuki sitting down beside you shortly after as he swaddles the blanket around the two of you. 

You scoot closer to him to the point that you could feel each other’s body heat as the two of you began to snuggle. 

It was rather an awkward position as Katsuki had no idea where to hold you and this was all pretty much still new for the both of you. You give him a comforting smile and a supportive nod. 

You hear him grunt quietly as he props himself up from the couch.  You adjust to his new position too and this time, you were lying on his chest. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close.  It was soft and warm. You could feel his strong trained muscles and a faint scent of his cologne. 

“Thank you for tonight. For getting along with my family and for spending time with me like this. I really appreciate it.” You snuggle even closer to him, whispering softly. 

“Yea yea.” He says in a slight tone of annoyance, trying to brush you off. “Anything for you. And besides, I enjoyed seeing your cousins/siblings stare in awe because of my quirk anyway.” He adds, this time in a sincere and affectionate tone as he plays with your hair again.

The two of you begin to drift off into sleep, the two of you bathed in each other’s warmth in a cold Christmas night and life has never been better. 

- Fin.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Anonymous asked: As a beginner in Classics I love your Classicist themed posts. I find your caption perfect posts a lot to think upon. I suppose it’s been more than a few years since you read Classics at Cambridge but my question is do you still bother to read any Classic texts and if so what are you currently reading?

I don’t know whether to be flattered or get depressed by your (sincere) remarks. Thank you so much for reminding me how old I must come across as my youngish Millennial bones are already starting to creak from all my sins of past sport injuries and physical exertions. I’m reminded of what J.R.R Tolkien wrote, “I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread.” I know the feeling (sigh).

But pay heed, dear follower, to what Menander said of old age, Τίμα το γήρας, ου γαρ έρχεται μόνον (respect old age, for it does not come alone). Presumably he means we all carry baggage. One hopes that will be wisdom which is often in the form of experience, suffering, and regret. So I’m not ready to trade in my high heels and hiking boots for a walking stick and granny glasses just yet.

To answer your question, yes, I still to read Classical literature and poetry in their original text alongside trustworthy translations. Every day in fact. 

I learned Latin when I was around 8 or 9 years old and Greek came later - my father and grandfather are Classicists - and so it would be hard to shake it off even if I tried.

So why ‘bother’ to read Classics? There are several reasons. First, the Classics are the Swiss Army knife to unpick my understanding other European languages that I grew up with learning. Second, it increases my cultural literacy out of which you can form informed aesthetic judgements about any art form from art, music, and literature. Third, Classical history is our shared history which is so important to fathom one’s roots and traditions. Fourth, spending time with the Classics - poetry, myth, literature, history - inspires moral insight and virtue. Fifth, grappling with classical literature informs the mind by developing intellectual discipline, reason, and logic.

And finally, and perhaps one I find especially important, is that engaging with Classical literature, poetry, or history, is incredibly humbling; for the classical world first codified the great virtues of prudence, temperance, justice, loyalty, sacrifice, and courage. These are qualities that we all painfully fall short of in our every day lives and yet we still aspire to such heights.

I’m quite eclectic in my reading. I don’t really have a method other than what my mood happens to be. I have my trusty battered note book and pen and I sit my arse down to translate passages wherever I can carve out a place to think. It’s my answer to staving off premature dementia when I really get old because quite frankly I’m useless at Soduku. We spend so much time staring at screens and passively texting that we don’t allow ourselves to slow down and think that physically writing gives you that luxury of slow motion time and space. In writing things out you are taking the time to reflect on thoughts behind the written word.

I do make a point of reading Homer’s The Odyssey every year because it’s just one of my favourite stories of all time. Herodotus and Thucydides were authors I used to read almost every day when I was in the military and especially when I went out to war in Afghanistan. Not so much these days. Of the Greek poets, I still read Euripides for weighty stuff and Aristophanes for toilet humour. Aeschylus, Archilochus and Alcman, Sappho, Hesiod, and Mimnermus, Anacreon, Simonides, and others I read sporadically.

I read more Latin than Greek if I am honest. From Seneca, Caesar, Cicero, Sallust, Tacitus, Livy, Apuleius, Virgil, Ovid, the younger Pliny to Augustine (yes, that Saint Augustine of Hippo). Again, there is no method. I pull out a copy from my book shelves and put it in my tote bag when I know I’m going on a plane trip for work reasons.

At the moment I am spending time with Horace. More precisely, his famous odes.

Of all the Greek and Latin poets, I feel spiritually comfortable with Horace. He praises a simple life of moderation in a much gentler tone than other Roman writers. Although Horace’s odes were written in imitation of Greek writers like Sappho, I like his take on friendship, love, alcohol, Roman politics and poetry itself. With the arguable exception of Virgil, there is no more celebrated Roman poet than Horace. His Odes set a fashion among English speakers that come to bear on poets to this day. His Ars Poetica, a rumination on the art of poetry in the form of a letter, is one of the seminal works of literary criticism. Ben Jonson, Pope, Auden, and Frost are but a few of the major poets of the English language who owe a debt to the Roman.

We owe to Horace the phrases, “carpe diem” or “seize the day” and the “golden mean” for his beloved moderation. Victorian poet Alfred Lord Tennyson, of Ancient Mariner fame, praised the odes in verse and Wilfred Owen’s great World War I poem, Dulce et Decorum est, is a response to Horace’s oft-quoted belief that it is “sweet and fitting” to die for one’s country.

Unlike many poets, Horace lived a full life. And not always a happy one. Horace was born in Venusia, a small town in southern Italy, to a formerly enslaved mother. He was fortunate to have been the recipient of intense parental direction. His father spent a comparable fortune on his education, sending him to Rome to study. He later studied in Athens amidst the Stoics and Epicurean philosophers, immersing himself in Greek poetry. While led a life of scholarly idyll in Athens, a revolution came to Rome. Julius Caesar was murdered, and Horace fatefully lined up behind Brutus in the conflicts that would ensue. His learning enabled him to become a commander during the Battle of Philippi, but Horace saw his forces routed by those of Octavian and Mark Antony, another stop on the former’s road to becoming Emperor Augustus.

When he returned to Italy, Horace found that his family’s estate had been expropriated by Rome, and Horace was, according to his writings, left destitute. In 39 B.C., after Augustus granted amnesty, Horace became a secretary in the Roman treasury by buying the position of questor's scribe. In 38, Horace met and became the client of the artists' patron Maecenas, a close lieutenant to Augustus, who provided Horace with a villa in the Sabine Hills. From there he began to write his satires. Horace became the major lyric Latin poet of the era of the Augustus age. He is famed for his Odes as well as his caustic satires, and his book on writing, the Ars Poetica. His life and career were owed to Augustus, who was close to his patron, Maecenas. From this lofty, if tenuous, position, Horace became the voice of the new Roman Empire. When Horace died at age 59, he left his estate to Augustus and was buried near the tomb of his patron Maecenas.

Horace’s simple diction and exquisite arrangement give the odes an inevitable quality; the expression makes familiar thoughts new. While the language of the odes may be simple, their structure is complex. The odes can be seen as rhetorical arguments with a kind of logic that leads the reader to sometimes unexpected places. His odes speak of a love of the countryside that dedicates a farmer to his ancestral lands; exposes the ambition that drives one man to Olympic glory, another to political acclaim, and a third to wealth; the greed that compels the merchant to brave dangerous seas again and again rather than live modestly but safely; and even the tensions between the sexes that are at the root of the odes about relationships with women.

What I like then about Horace is his sense of moderation and he shows the gap between what we think we want and what we actually need. Horace has a preference for the small and simple over the grandiose. He’s all for independence and self-reliance.

If there is one thing I would nit pick Horace upon is his flippancy to the value of the religious and spiritual. The gods are often on his lips, but, in defiance of much contemporary feeling, he absolutely denied an afterlife - which as a Christian I would disagree with. So inevitably “gather ye rosebuds while ye may” is an ever recurrent theme, though Horace insists on a Golden Mean of moderation - deploring excess and always refusing, deprecating, dissuading.

All in all he champions the quiet life, a prayer I think many men and women pray to the gods to grant them when they are caught in the open Aegean, and a dark cloud has blotted out the moon, and the sailors no longer have the bright stars to guide them. A quiet life is the prayer of Thrace when madness leads to war. A quiet life is the prayer of the Medes when fighting with painted quivers: a commodity, Grosphus, that cannot be bought by jewels or purple or gold? For no riches, no consul’s lictor, can move on the disorders of an unhappy mind and the anxieties that flutter around coffered ceilings.

Caelum non animum mutant qui trans mare currunt (they change their sky, not their soul, who rush across the sea.)

Part of Horace’s persona - lack of political ambition, satisfaction with his life, gratitude for his land, and pride in his craft and the recognition it wins him - is an expression of an intricate web of awareness of place. Reading Horace will centre you and get you to focus on what is most important in life. In Horace’s discussion of what people in his society value, and where they place their energy and time, we can find something familiar. Horace brings his reader to the question - what do we value?  

Much like many of our own societies, Rome was bustling with trade and commerce, ambition, and an area of vast, diverse civilisation. People there faced similar decisions as we do today, in what we pursue and why. As many of us debate our place and purpose in our world, our poet reassures us all. We have been coursing through Mondays for thousands of years. Horace beckons us: take a brief moment from the day’s busy hours. Stretch a little, close your eyes while facing the warm sun, and hear the birds and the quiet stream. The mind that is happy for the present should refuse to worry about what is further ahead; it should dilute bitter things with a mild smile.

I would encourage anyone to read these treasures in translations. For you though, as a budding Classicist, read the texts in Latin and Greek if you can. Wrestle with the word. The struggle is its own reward. Whether one reads from the original or from a worthy translation, the moral virtue (one hopes) is wisdom and enlightenment.

Pulvis et umbra sumus

(We are but dust and shadow.)

Thanks for your question.

[cherrynojutsu]

Title: Like Silver

Summary: A companion series for Like Gold.

It’s challenging to finish up discharge summaries and operative reports when one’s vision keeps blurring, as it turns out. And when one keeps pressing fingers to their lips in disbelief. A poetic sort of procrastination, indeed.

Blank period, canon-compliant, Sakura-centric, some expanded plot points from Like Gold, fluff and pining, eventually becomes a smut fest with feelings.

Disclaimer: I did not write Naruto. This is a fan-made piece solely created for entertainment purposes.

Rating: M (eventual nsfw-ness)

AO3 Link - FF.net Link - includes beginning/ending author's notes

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Chapter 2/?: A Poetic Sort of Procrastination, Indeed

Sakura saunters home late in the evening, admiring the stars above her in a daze of spring air and clutching her tote bag to her shoulder as if her very life force is tethered to it.

In the flurry of emotion, she completely forgot about returning her library books, but she doesn’t give a damn.

She drudged through her entire pile of paperwork, though it was an almighty effort requiring every ounce of her discipline. Even after Sasuke left, she kept tearing up and just gawking at the impossibly beautiful gift he’s given her, affection requited bubbling up inside her ribcage and unleashed into the air she breathes like some sort of ambrosial perfume she can finally afford to bask in. She has always known there is a softer side to him, that there is much more beneath the surface than he lets on with his laconic demeanor, but this is something else.

It’s challenging to finish up discharge summaries and operative reports when one’s vision keeps blurring, as it turns out.

And when one keeps pressing fingers to their lips in disbelief.

A poetic sort of procrastination, indeed.

She hangs her tote on its entryway hook and carefully removes the box inside once she reaches her apartment. After she’s padded her way to her bedroom, she flips on the two lamps before placing it tenderly on her bed.

Sakura briefly contemplates taking the lid off then and there, but she knows she really should shower first, because otherwise the evening is going to quickly spiral away from her, whirlpool of tender feelings that it already is.

It’s the quickest shower she’s ever taken in her life; berry-scented soap floods her body and seems to take forever to rinse clean in her haste, although it can’t actually be more than a minute or two in reality. It’s also the quickest she’s ever toweled off and changed into pajamas, scurrying back to her room and grabbing the first pair she lays eyes on from her dresser drawer.

Once she has shimmied them on, she opens the box again, and just looks.

It still exists - it doesn’t disappear or dissolve as a figment of her imagination - so she picks it up with careful hands.

It is so, so pretty, exquisite in a way that makes her heart hammer relentlessly against her sternum, a catharsis in her chest sweeter somehow than anything she’s ever experienced.

It’s unavoidable; her eyes well with tears again, because he said he had it made for her. Not found in an antique shop off the beaten path or some happenstance market who knows how many miles away. Not just something that reminded him of her.

Made for me.

Which means he thought of this himself. Silk that shifts colors like the Uchiha crest, fastidiously stitched petals, and a cherry blossom tree, carved light wood that is startlingly similar in tone to the accents here in her bedroom.

And the way he looked at her, after, a storm of silver and obsidian that took her breath away.

And he kissed her.

Sakura doesn’t know how she’s supposed to fall asleep tonight, deliriously happy as she is, or how she’s going to spend any of her free time from here on out not staring at this supernal treasure. She strokes the wood with careful fingers, bringing the carving upwards for closer inspection. Every inch of it is gorgeous; she is especially enamored with the pink and pearlescent stitching, coruscant in the low light. She assiduously counts the slivers of bamboo, too, and follows the rivulets of fine branches stretching upwards to the boundaries of the framework. Upon her inquest, she notices an impossibly tiny etching, faintly whittled on the interior of one of the slats of bamboo. Tai Ro, it says; she assumes that must be the craftsman’s signature. She wonders where it came from, which far-off land Sasuke traveled through to commission something so resplendent.

She has never seen anything so bewitching, except maybe silver flecks.

Tearing her gaze away from the fan, Sakura eyes the vanity by her balcony door, an idea brewing.

It’s an aged piece, of a bygone style featuring small drawers on each size and a sunken point in the middle, from which rises a large circular mirror. A framed copy of their original Team Seven portrait sits pushed against the framing, right in the center. She placed it there because she enjoys seeing it as she gets ready for the day. It’s a good memory, one of her favorites, sentimental in a way that makes her heart swell, after everything. A pale wooden hairbrush also sits perched atop its surface, given to her by her mother forever ago while she was still at the Academy.

“I found it in the market today, just after swinging by to pick up rose food from Ino’s mother. It’s old, an antique, but I think it suits you, my dear,” she’d said, ruffling her hair, still long at that point and chattering a mile a minute in the overbearing way she has always tended to. She’d brushed her already combed locks in the manner that Sakura thinks all mothers must with their daughters, even when they are starting to become too grown for that sort of thing. “What I wouldn’t give for your hair! So unique; you should have something lovely to brush it with. You’re already such a pretty girl, but someday you’re going to bloom, and when you do, heaven help the boys.”

There’s a cherry blossom on it, too, adorning the back simply with five perfect petals.

When Sakura moved out of her parents’ house, she chose the tones of her bedroom accents, inclusive of the frame, with it in mind; she’d been using it for years by then, and had developed a fondness for pale wood rooted in familial nostalgia. Most of her actual furniture in the room is secondhand, of an older variety and painted with a white stain to make them somewhat match - she prefers things with a little bit of history, has since her mom gifted her that hairbrush - but the few frames and wall-mounted shelves are lighter washes of wood.

Many of the surfaces in her apartment are cluttered with books and other knick knacks she has accumulated through the years, but she tries to keep the vanity’s top clear, almost like an altar, an ode to the things she finds lovely atop it to give her hope with which to greet the day.

Still clutching the gift tenderly in her hands, Sakura ventures over to it.

She holds the fan close to the frame as well as the brush, comparing the color, near an exact match, a fresh memory making her heart swell in a completely different way, a way she had previously thought was maybe unrealistic.

She’ll get a stand for it, she decides, and display it in the spot the frame currently sits; it would look perfect there, the curvature echoed above it in circular looking glass, a hairbrush of a similar stain beside it. Then she’ll be able to gaze at it every morning and evening. There is no way something this precious to her could ever be stored away in a box and only seen on special occasions; it’s the same reason she struggled with the idea of hiding his letters away in one.

No, Sakura is resolutely sure that admiring it will be a daily ritual.

She can relocate the photo frame to her bedside table, maybe, next to An Introduction to Electrocardiography , or perhaps to her living room, though it doesn’t really match the wood out there.

That gets her thinking. We’re... together now, right? He’s kissed her, and she really hopes he will again, surprisingly soft lips against hers, an aroma of woodsmoke, and butterflies unleashed in her stomach. Maybe she should put the frame on the shelf in the main room. He might come over, sometime; it would be good to have it visible, situated in a place where he can see it.

With the utmost care, she lays the fan on the surface in front of her. Sakura combs through wet locks, coaxing out tangles with an old gift and appreciating a new one with watery eyes. When she’s finished, she carefully clutches it again and admires it atop a lavender comforter for the better part of an hour, alternating between mentally mapping its fine stitching within the confines of her hippocampus and paging through her book of Sasuke’s letters in a way that is more than fond, affection freed from her chest after so very long. The jubilance crests to a sense of omneity as she does so, moon glow filtering in by way of the gauzy white curtains that shield the balcony’s glass door.

She absolutely can’t wait to see him tomorrow. She sincerely hopes she’s not dreaming all of this.

She is so enamored with it that she doesn’t even drink her customary evening tea, her being warmed in an entirely different manner she is as of yet unaccustomed to, better than earl grey or some variety of dessert. It’s immensely difficult to pry it from her own hands when the time comes to do so.

Always is the last word she thinks of before she succumbs to slumber, curled up in soft colors and hoping he has found somewhere comfortable to sleep. Treasured memories emanate from objects old and new, brewing together before a looking glass where she’s placed them for safekeeping and admiration.

XXX

When she awakens in the morning, Sakura jerks upright in bed, turning to her vanity to ascertain if it was all a dream, cozened in by her subconscious as she slept.

It wasn’t. The fan is still there, precious and so enchantingly beautiful, dawn flavoring the memory of Sasuke’s return just as sweet as it had tasted yesterday with his lips on hers.

She brushes her hair again, working at the task way longer than necessary and trying not to cry out of sheer happiness. She feels so light, as if being pulled upwards by a latterly existent force of gravity, theoretically possible in terms of relative physics and with the right circumstances, but never actually experienced.

Birds are singing on the balcony when Sakura finally steps outside, snacking on seeds from her bird feeder as she gives her fledgling plants a drink before leaving for work.

It is such a lovely morning.

XXX

Sakura makes it through work as if encapsulated in a brand of inertial navigation system, floating as if she’s a bizarrely sentient cloud from patients to test tubes. She feeds the mice and records the brief observations she usually does on Wednesdays, and then a Genin is being brought in with a linear fracture in their tibia, twisted wrong and impacted during training. She gives instructions to nurses, too, taking care of smaller tasks in between, part of her feeling like she is barely there.

Well, not barely. She still keeps her wits about her and heals people; she takes pride in what she does. She just… daydreams a little, too, sage, smoke, and silver occupying her spare moments, flitting in between the corridors of her head as she flits from exam room to exam room.

She’s sitting at her desk, eating an early dinner and working on a new pile of paperwork before her next appointment arrives at five thirty, when one of Naruto’s clones bangs on her window.

Her gaze shifts to the glass at the familiar boisterous whining of her name - “Sakura-chaaaaaaan!” - and she rises to open it the rest of the way, allowing him entry into her office, an easy grin coming to her lips.

“Naruto!” A million thoughts run through her head. He has to know Sasuke’s back at this point, right? Has he seen him? He must be so happy.

Cyan bores into her, and he grins as he steps down. “Sakura-chan, teme’s back! Can you believe it? Though I guess you knew since yesterday.”

Sakura’s cheeks warm at the implication of that, wondering how he knows this information, but her friend is plowing onwards.

“Anyways, wanna have an original Team Seven reunion dinner on Saturday night? Or maybe Sunday night? Kakashi-sensei said Saturday would be better for him, if it works for you. And we should also make it a housewarming party for teme, but Kakashi-sensei says DON’T tell him that, or he won’t agree! It’s a surprise.”

Laughter erupts from her chest, rich and joyful, because it is crystal clear in that moment that Naruto is as elated at Sasuke’s return as she is - okay, maybe not quite on the level that she is, but close - even through a clone. “Of course, we should! I don’t have anything planned for Saturday night.”

Her teammate grins, all infectious happiness in the way that is so utterly characteristic of him, eyes crinkling at their corners. “Good, great, awesome! Be sure to mention it to him when you see him at seven. I’m sure if you suggest it, he’ll definitely agree.” Sakura blinks in surprise, cheeks staining darker. “Man, this is gonna be so great! Team Seven is fucking back ! I can’t wait to get a mission! It’ll be just like old times. I gotta tell Hinata-chan, too!”

She can’t help it; she smiles so wide that it hurts her face, tears paying her another visit. Sasuke’s back. He’s really back. And-

“Well, anyways, I’ll leave you to eat your dinner, Sakura-chan, but we have to force him to be social. I can’t wait to spar! But also, we gotta have a picnic, and no tying me to the pole this time. We could even challenge Kakashi-sensei to get off his ass and give us another go at the bell test. And, and! We should have a movie night. And go drinking! I’ve never seen teme drunk. I bet he’s a lightweight, and he’ll probably say all sorts of embarrassing shit! And-” Naruto’s clone’s expression turns unexpectedly serious, blue eyes suddenly narrowing in a way that is all-seeing and a tan finger suddenly pointing at her accusingly.

“-I mean social outside of you and him, Sakura-chan! Don’t think for a second that you’re gonna escape my questions later, when my brain isn’t fried from staring at that stupid scroll Kakashi-sensei has me slaving over. I want answers. ”

And then Naruto’s clone disappears in a puff of smoke, leaving her blinking in a strange combination of bewilderment and somehow, shyness, too.

And ebullience. Mostly ebullience.

She stands there grinning like an idiot for a long time. She can’t wait to see him at seven.

[alecxaheart]

Falls At 4419 | Bang Chan Oneshot

✎ Genre : Strangers to Lovers AU, Fluff

✎ Pairings : Bang Chan X Reader

✎ Word Count : 2.1k words

✎ Synopsis : Who could've thought that your ride to love life starts at a bus stop.

✎ Requested.

You had the usual tiring daily routine for the rest of your life. Your weekday mornings start with your alarm clock greeting you "good morning" in the most annoying beeping way as possible. What a gentle reminder, too, to tell you that it's almost time for work.

" Work again? " you groaned at the thought, hands reaching out to the bedside table to turn off the alarm.  Once you did, you forced yourself out of the bed and start preparing for today.

You were completely exhausted due to the stack of work your boss gives you.

It's to the point that it made you sleep deprived, haggard or just messy in general. You don't even know if you ever managed to cover all of that, physically, with make-up. However, when it came to your words and actions, it's noticeable when one paid attention. It's a good thing that Ms. Han was blind to that, or else you'll be told that you're lacking and higher chances of you getting fired.

But aside from every negative thing about your occupation, so far your performances were praised by your co-workers. Salary has never been a problem, in fact, you've been paid higher than expected. Maybe it's from the plus being Ms. Han's pet-sitter — for the love of all things, it had to be a cat.

You're almost done preparing for work. With your feet taking a quick slip into your black heels, you're on your way out of the house. Clacking noises could be heard each time your heels meet the pavement.

As you were headed towards the bus stop, you felt something vibrating from your purse. Opening it, you found your phone ringing. The caller ID displays the name of your boss, Ms. Han. What could be the kind of good morning greeting I'll receive from her today?

You answered it and placed it to your right ear, immediately hearing your name. " Assistant (L/N) (Y/N)! " Ms. Han called out through the other line.

" Good morning to you too, Ms. Han. You have matters to discuss with me at this time? " You replied, stopping at your tracks as you've reached the bus stop. All you need to do now is wait for the bus and keep yourself together with whatever Ms. Han may throw at you.

" I'm assuming you've already done the project for today, " You hummed in response. There was sound of a slight slip from the other line, you assumed that Ms. Han was drinking tea. " Make sure to deliver that presentation well. After that, I want you to attend the board meeting this afternoon on my behalf. Send them my sincere apologies for I have other more important business matters. "

So much for being trustworthy..

" Noted, Ms. Han. " Your ride finally came. Once it opened it's doors, you hopped in and tapped your card at a machine.

" Also, fix this week's schedule. Cancel everything on Friday, " Ms. Han added. You ended up seating at the very end of the bus, beside the window. It just happened to be the only row of seats that's vacant.

" Got it, Ms. Han. Anything else? "

" Ah, right. After the board meeting, take care of Eliza, " Her cat – you should've seen that coming. " Don't worry about the ride to my house, my driver will be picking you up. " She continued, taking one more sip at her tea. The ride was never a problem, but her cat is. Nevertheless, you accepted it since you both needed the job and money.

It didn't took that long until the conversation finally ended. When she hung up, you deeply sighed and looked out of the window. Spring was almost over, the atmosphere started to get colder. The cherry blossom trees began to slowly wither, every petal that has fallen decorated the road and sidewalk. It was both exquisite yet melancholic. Could you ever compare yourself as a cherry blossom? To bloom all over again yet someday, you'll wither once again. Possibly.

As you were gazing outside, your eyes widened as you saw someone else's reflection who sat beside you. His airpods plugged in his ears as he bobbed his head to the beat. You never knew or felt that his presence is already there, not until right now.

He's the same guy you meet each day whenever you took this bus. To be honest, he's eye-catching ever since the first time you saw him. He had the usual black outfit. Curly brunette headed, tall nose, dazzling dark brown orbs, lips — Okay, let's stop fawning over him. In conclusion, he has very well defined facial features. It was obvious that he's one of God's masterpiece, many should've envied him with that.

Despite of him always being your seatmate when the seat next to yours is vacant, you both never conversed with one another. Even with him having an eye for you from the start, no one even dared to start one.

Although, maybe today's a bit different.

The bus abruptly stopped in its tracks as the stop light just switched to red. The driver groaned and scratched the back of his neck.

At the back of the bus, there's you who is silently staring at the window. Awfully close to the window. However, when the bus hit the brakes, your forehead bumped onto the glass. " Ouch! " You groaned in pain as you held your forehead, checking if it bled and to ease the pain. The curly brunette noticed this and paused the music he's playing on the phone. He shifted in his seat to face you, " Are you okay? ". Your eyes met his worrisome ones and it made your heart skip a beat. He's more dashing when he's this close to you. It also made you more timid towards him that you began to stutter, " I- I guess I'm okay.. ".

" Let me see, " He reached out to your hand that's covering your forehead. His hand accidentally touched the sore part in the process, causing you to wince in pain. He whispered an apology before carefully taking your hand off and scan your forehead. He sighed in relief, " Thankfully, it wasn't such a big impact but it did turn red. You can place ice or put an ointment on it as soon as you get off, ok? " You responded with small nod and smile, your heart melting at his kindness.

He carefully placed his hand on your head and light pushed it back, gesturing you to rest. You gladly complied and he smiled, showing his dimples. It was cute, you thought.

" Does it still hurt? " He asked.

" A bit but bearable, " You replied, closing your eyes.

" How about a small talk to distract you from the pain? "

" Sounds good to me. "

" My name's Chan, you? "

" The name's (Y/N). It's nice to finally know you, Chan. "

And that's how everything started to blossom, at the end of Spring.

After that day, you started to anticipate what's going to happen on the next days that you never complained about the annoying beeping clock at dawn ever again. Especially and specifically, on the bus. Your mornings now start with you enthusiastically getting up and preparing for work. Chan happened to bring more interest into your life.

You don't know what kind of sorcery Chan does to always know how to remove your stress or just to make your days better in general. However, you don't mind it. Instead, you're really thankful for it.

You blossomed more in Fall, like a cosmos flower. You bloomed while the rest withered.

You excelled so much at work. The company was at its rough times, yet you handled everything outstandingly that you were praised by the whole company. Even Chan was happy for you, which mattered to you most.

" I knew you were exceptional ever since the beginning, " He murmured while hugging you securely, smiling. You, too, smiled brightly and blushed at that.

It's not only you who blossomed this fall. Your love, too, bloomed in Fall.

You never knew that the potential crush you had for Chan back when he was just a seatmate at the bus would grow. You fell head over heels for his giggles, smiles, kindness, goofiness, just for him. It keeps getting stronger as more time passes that you couldn't control it anymore. This was a first ever since you started working. You never really paid attention to your love life since work was always in the way. You're foreign to this feeling, you're clueless on how to handle it.

This love is the most amazing feeling, you'd be honest. Yet you fear that you'll be rejected or wouldn't be loved back. Then love would be the worst feeling.

Although, your faith and hope will never be taken away from you until the day hasn't came yet, until there's a possibility. You'll keep hoping on his small gestures you'd like to think are hints. You'll put your love for him in the hands of faith. And with that, you became patient with him. Waiting for the time that the true feelings will start to unveil.

______________________________

찬의

Channie

Hey (Y/N)

Are you done with work?

Almost

Why do you ask?

I'll pick you up, ok?

I'm on my way there.

'That's first, yet weird.

But I don't mind.'

Alright, be careful

Seen 7:02PM

______________________________

A month has passed, you two grew closer than ever. Yet occassionally, there would be a hint of awkwardness between the two of you. One would act weirdly, stutter or get nervous around one another. You hoped that it wouldn't ruin your friendship. You valued this friendship more than anything else.

Heading towards the front doors of this company, you could see Chan's figure on the other side. Waiting for you to come out. Once you did, he turned to face you and greet you with a sweet smile. You smiled back. " Let's go? " He said as he offered you his hand. You nodded and timidly took it into yours. That's another first.

Both of you exchanged the usual conversation. Asking about each other's day, telling short stories, joking once in a while, then some comfortable silence here and there, it felt just right. It's already dark out, the city light and streetlights being the only source of light, while the moon is having the pitch black sky to itself. The streets aren't as busy as it was in the daylight. You could hear the rustling and crunching of autumn leaves as it was carried by the wind or getting stepped on.

The two of you eventually reached the bus stop, taking a seat as you wait for a bus. " Do you know the number that bus has? " Chan asked out of the blue, eyes boring on the street. You hummed in confusion, he chuckled. " The bus we always took, especially in the mornings. "

" Ohh.. To be honest, I'm completely unaware of that. " You answered, scratching the back of your neck. Once more, he chuckled then gazed at you while your attention was somewhere else. A bus was coming in your peripheral vision. Once it was in front of you, you scanned for it's number. At the very end, it's written..

" 4419, " You turned to Chan, only to find him staring at you with adoration. You two stayed like that for a few minutes. His eyes were so soft, looking ever so luminous and sparkling underneath the light. He took out a flower he plucked from earlier, placing it behind your ear. Not even tearing his eyes away from yours. " Beautiful, like a cosmos flower, " He whispered, but it was enough for you to hear it clearly. You've felt like you're continously falling, yet Chan still has his grip on you. The same grip when he first held your hand back when you've bumped your forehead on the bus. Loving, gentle yet firm. Telling that he's willing to fall with you. " I love you, (Y/N). "

With just those 4 words, you were filled with so much joy and shock. You froze on your seat. For a second you panicked on what's the right word to say, asking if an I love you too was enough or is it already too redundant.

Although you knew that Chan's anticipating an answer as the clock continues to tick, and waiting is dreadful. Chan will love and cherish anything you say to him. Just the thought of you being truly his will bring him genuine happiness, and that's enough. No need for further more explanations. Then you've came to the conclusion, that there's no other words that best describes your true feelings for him. Simple yet genuine, " I love you too, Chan. "

Now, a love fully blossomed at the end of Falls.

End.

[whereflowersbloom]

Morning after

The smell of freshly baked croissants and coffee woke her up. Raven hardly ever felt so rested, even after spending an hour meditating before going to sleep, opening her eyes and getting accustomed to the morning light of the sun that illuminated her room through the windows. She turned on her back and nestled in this new, previously unknown feeling. She was strangely calm as if everything was in the right place, and every possible problem remained in the past.

Maybe that’s what genuine serenity feels like, she thought to herself.

But how did she end up in this situation? They became friends. Best friends, even. They talked about everything including their most intimate thoughts. She told herself it was enough or deceived herself into believing so. There was no line for them to cross but a secret and deep part of her soul definitely understood and sought the need to feel wanted and loved and fulfilled. Not like she hadn’t thought of Damian that way before. There was such a terrible tension between them sometimes when they were both sitting on her the sofa watching old classic films or reading books they both enjoyed. She craved the heat of Damian’s embrace. She remembered how it felt to have him curled around her, how gently his thumb stroked her cheek, how his muscles flexed against her, and she wishes he would hold her again.

Damian was like a compass for Raven if she felt like she might lose her way, and that kind of thing never happened to her. Not often at least.

As usual Damian went jogging as it had become his habit thanks to Jon, who craved the sunlight as soon as he opened his eyes, persistently asking him to be his partner. A surprising string elbow in the ribs by Jon gave him the second push to voice his feelings for Raven. Later, he visited a local bakery that made exquisite chocolate croissants, as he memorized Raven’s favorites. Then he returned home with a sudden thought it was the high time to turn his quiet feelings for Raven into something serious. He wanted to fool himself at first, but as it turned out, he was too fucking smart to believe a single word of the downright falsehood he made up in his mind in order to excuse himself from the imminent truth. He was in love with her.

She was about to get out of bed to stretch her muscles when Damian walked into the room carrying a tray with breakfast: hot coffee, steaming Earl Grey, croissants and juicy autumnal fruit. She wanted to approach him, wrap her arms around him and kiss him on the neck, the sensitive spot she discovered last night, but they were not yet at that stage of the relationship. As the matter of fact, she did not know exactly who they were to each other now. Maybe nothing had changed. After all, it had been just a few kisses last night, letting go, a carpet diem kind of moment. Maybe Damian didn’t want things to change between them.

"Good morning.” Damian muttered, sending her one of his radiant, sincere smiles that made her legs weak. "Did you sleep well?"

“Yes. Better than most days. I didn’t know if you would come back...” She kept her own voice soft, matching his tone, afraid to burst the strange bubble they found themselves in. Controlling her anxiety was easier said than done.

“I simply needed time to clear my mind.” His expression was solemn. “We must discuss last night’s event.” He mumbled under his breath, voice deadly calm, a convincing facade, fighting to distract the both of them from his own wild whirlwind of emotions as he left the tray at the bedside table. No woman in his life had ever truly enchanted him in the way she did. He would not give her up.

Her lower lip trembled slightly. She repeated her mantra over ten times until she calmed her nerves. Damian was her closest friend, and she cared about not ruining the special bond between them. They said it was easier to move on as long as you were merely lovers, but what when you are so much more. She felt like a teenager who was falling in love for the first time. Not that she was that much older at the age of 19. She had experience in meaningless romances, short-lived, Wally, Garfield, but she knew nothing about true love. Their bond was beyond comprehensible lines of poetry. More than it being undefinable, it was the freeness to be defined, the way as open interpretations take you.

“We don’t have to to this now. In fact, nothing has to change.” She spoke tentatively, unsure whether she’s more concerned how this would shape their friendship or embarrassed she let herself cross a line. Slowly passing around the room folding her arms across her chest.

The distress was heavy in her chest, stirred with a fog of uncertainty.

At this, Damian’s eyes sparkled with determination and objection regarding her statement. Before she registered what he was doing, he grabbed her hand. “I do not want to leave things exactly as they used to be. Not before last night.” He held her gaze and rubbed his thumb over the backside of her hand, reveling in the softness of her skin.

There’s a fluttering in her stomach, and she’s taken aback at the intensity of it. Butterflied filled with hope and wish. There was hope of light after all darks, hope of happiness after grief, hope of a new colorful sunrise, a chapter to be rewritten.

“It was just a kiss..” In a trice, breaking off the contact. She lied and immediately regretted it. Damian stood next to her with a disbelieving expression on his face. There was a hint of indignation but it vanished quickly.

“You and I both know it meant more than a kiss. I do not need the gift of empathy to see it.” Damian stated sharply, his features hardened at his resolution. He was tired of constantly feeling this weight on his shoulders. What was the point of deceiving themselves any longer? If he didn’t know better, he would say she was avoiding him like a plague.

Letting out a breath she had been holding in since Damian entered her bedroom, Raven felt a weight being lifted off her chest. “Damian...I” She started, but never managed to finish interrupted by an unexpected question.

"Do you have any plans for today?" He left the question hanging in the air.

With brows furrowed in confusion she found herself unable to command her mouth to utter anything. Her heart thudded out of her chest. The normally unflappable last daughter of Azarath knocked for a loop by the close proximity of her stunning teammate.

Raven parted her lips and closed them again.

“It seems we are free to do as we please today. Clear schedule. No training or missions. He shrugged casually, willing his breath to remain steady, years of boiling emotions teetering over the edge of his elegant, suave composure

Raven blinked. Amethysts widening.

“I thought we could go somewhere. You and I” Damian licked his lips, swallowing the nerves in his chest as her eyes widen a fraction at his proposal. "There's a new Parisian café in the city I think you might like.”

Her lips curved up into a sweet smile, growing wider and more radiant as she thought of sitting in Parisian cafe with Damian, enjoying a minute of bliss to be in the other’s company.

“Are you asking me on a date, Damian Wayne?” She blurted with a momentary astonished look, even as she realized the implication of his words. Was this truly happening? She asked herself mentally.

“I’m courting you properly, Raven. So yes, I’m asking you out.” His shoulders ease from their tensed position, subconsciously hunched in nerves to what she’d respond.

It was surreal, talking about what a few minutes ago had been unbearable chains, restrained by her own fears and inner demons. Ethereal strands of thread that could be snapped by a mere jerk of fingers. He wanted more. He wanted her.

“I don’t know, Damian.” She bit her lip still indecisive, gaze away from his face. Once again mind invaded by intrusive negative thoughts. What if it didn’t work? What if she lost control? The numerous what if’s haunted her like never ending nightmares.

Taking a step closer, something in his emerald sparked with an idea and firmness of not quitting. “Any chance I can persuade you to change your mind then?” He crooned in her ear, nipping at it just slightly, taking her breath away. She wondered how long she could resist his gravitational pull for so long.

Raven hesitated for a good few seconds before finally resigning herself to the fact that whatever she did. She couldn’t fight this anymore. She loved him. “I can think of a few ways.” She was surprised at her own boldness, snaking slender arms around his torso. He pressed his built body against hers closer, placing tender, teasing kisses along her neck. Whilst she was glad that he was enjoying himself, she was going to completely lose it if she remained flush against him for much longer. Her entire core heated with want for him. He smirked at the effect he had on her with his natural charm. This confident, cocky air. This was so him and content and not bothering to mask it. No filters.

“Is that a yes?” He whispered and there was no missing the boyish grin spread over his tanned cheeks. Hooking a finger under her chin and brought her face level with his own.

“I suppose you earned a date, Mr. Wayne.” She laughed feverishly. Gently, stroking his palm with her thumb. Enjoying the calloused yet silky skin of an accomplished swordsman and fighter.

An audible sigh left Damian’s mouth as his muscles relaxed with her nestled in his arms. She could sense his relief. Yes, perhaps a change could be good, opening herself to feel again. A new chapter of light and joy.

Notes: I know I have disappeared and haven’t updated in forever but I’m still sick and weak. Also working on the fanzine project. I should be done in a week though. But meanwhile have this short damirae. Not my best but I hope you enjoy it 💖💖💜💜

@deepbreadlover @tweepunkgrl @alerialblu @chromium7sky @kallura-juniblade @cayeeast

I miss you all and youre all welcome to message me. I feel a bit disconnected from the world.

Also I’d like to use to wish @shewhowillnotbenamed1 a happy birthday!! Thank you for blessing us with your beautiful wiring and your friendship 😊😊🥰💜💖

[enha-woodzies]

➸ CHAPTER 2 | " TEA IS SPILLED "

starring: enhypen ft. i-land daniel

pairing: jungwon x fem!reader x sunghoon

genres: royal au, romance, angst, slowburn, 18th century setting

word count: 1.8k

taglist: @serendipitysung (again, thank u for beta reading this chap) @angeljungwon @en-sun @affectionaterainoflove @renkiv @softforjungwoo @jislix @fluffi @gyeraniee @miffythoughts

[ PREV. CHAPTER ] | [ M. LIST ] | [ NEXT CHAPTER ]

In a family of four, the grand manor is typically too massive of a place to frolic about considering the children are, now more than ever, entering the wobbly world of adulthood. Lady Park isn't at all saddened, not even the slightest, of the lack of silly beings bouncing around the halls. Her three blissful children are more than enough to fulfill the abundance needed to fill up these wide walls of comfort.

With wild banters resonating from the top floors to the angry cries of frustration and bullets being fired in the grassy yard, boisterous laughters even in the parlour and magnificent tunes from the pianoforte in the lobby, who would've thought the widowed lady only has three creatures in the solace of her household?

But of course, despite the few kiddos giddily leaping around and about the toughly cemented abode, the house never once lacked a single servant happily offering their services to the ever most humble aristocratic family. They rather consider it as the greatest honor to have even worked in this clan as they, amongst the fewer fews, have exuded nothing but kindness, generosity, and upholding of such exquisite manners despite their highly-acclaimed titles and places in Northumberland’s high-class society.

It’d be a blessing to be affiliated with the three children and whoever be so lucky to earn such fortune is very favored in life indeed. One would say they and the Yang family have always been the highly influential clans even of late and who wouldn't dare say? The two rich families have been one of the greatest friends of the city. Even their children could almost pass as siblings due to the tight-knit bond they shared over the years. Kindred spirits, I dare say.

This season will duly prepare the fine and charming jewel of the family, Lady Y/n, as the debutante’s ball is coming up briefly. A day well spent in the modiste is a woman's dainty bliss as the perfectly sewn dress is finally ready for appealing suitors and the royalty herself, the Queen.

“You look nothing more than gorgeous, sister. Madame Fleur has outdone herself again with another splendid piece.” Jay, the eldest of the family, pinches the silky fabric while gently pulling it upwards to gain better access to the dress’ features.

“Thank you, Jay. Although I admit, the measurements in the waist are a bit funny.”

“I wouldn't doubt that. It is Mother’s liking to keep your corset tight and deadly.” The eldest rubs his chin in contemplation. “Rest assured if you need any assistance in loosening that wretched piece of torture, Niki and I will be of help at the ball.”

“Again, brother, thank you. And speaking of help, where's Niki? He was supposed to help me with my waltz today.”

"I have no idea. Last I saw him he was with Daniel. Shouldn't he be home by now?"

Without any warning, the youngest comes dashing into the parlour like a carefree prince who just had the best slumber of his life.

“I’m right here. Forgive me, dear sister, for my unannounced absence in today's dance practice. I shall have you know, the Duke’s son sent us an invitation this morning. One that Daniel and I,” the two eldest eye him suspiciously, awaiting a usual remark whenever the topic is about the marquess. “refused to reject… surprisingly.” Niki clicks his tongue before proceeding to join his siblings on the cushioned couch.

“Shocker. Tell me, brother, was your day positively horrific?” Jay sarcastically huffed. “Oh, you don't have the slightest idea.” The two boys joined together for a rather boisterous laugh that made the only lass cross her arms as she sits between the two brothers.

“How’s life treating Park?” Jay questions. “Oh, you know. The usual. Living in luxury as well as wasting it away. He seemed more ashen lately.” Niki downs a glass of water that was resting on the coffee table.

After a few more barbs and laughs against the Duke’s only son, Y/n decides to butt in as time’s a wastin. “Apologies for the intrusion, but it’s necessary for me to rehearse for the dances I might have in two days' time, unlike you two who are accustomed to sweeping girls off the dance floor. Come, Niki, before mother sees me to bed.”

In the middle of an exhausting rehearsal with his sister, Niki sits down on the edge of Y/n’s bed with both hands leaning on the mattress. “You could've asked Jay.” he mutters under his breath.

It's not that the boy was complaining to teach waltz, it was more of trying to keep himself away from social interactions for the time being as he felt the need to mope again after a long while.

“True, I could have. But I haven't seen you wandering about the house today. Except this morning when I was awakened by your harsh firing in the garden.” Y/n looks over her shoulders to give a playful glare at the nearly knackered, blonde-haired lad. “How was your day, Riki?”

“Don’t call me that.” He hisses.

“Must I remind you that I was the one who wiped your tushy when you were a tiny bum and I also-”

“Oh you must, mustn't you?” Niki throws his hands in the air in vexation. But his sister could only smile at him in a manner that he couldn't argue any further. “Fine. We did fencing today, with the Duke’s trophy of a son.”

“You know, I never understood your hatred towards that man. I envy Jay, honestly. He gets to listen to your burdens about the marquess and console you."

“Soon, sister. The story’s very… profound.” Niki lazily plops his body back on the fluffy mattress with both hands at the back of his head.

“You mean the feelings behind that story?”

“You're too keen on unearthing this from me, aren't you? You clever bean.” Niki smirks at his sister’s antics.

“Anything to have my little brother confess. I am your most favorite sibling after all, am I not?” Y/n intertwines her fingers with her brother’s and seals it with a comforting kiss right on his thumb.

“Whatever it is, no matter how inexpressible or profound it may be...”

“Thank you, Y/n. I’m going to miss these melodramatic moments with you.” The lass scoffs at Niki’s almost sweet words. “It's not like I’m guaranteed marriage this season.”

“Oh but mother will do anything to try and get you married. That's guaranteed right there. Although Jay will be meddling at most in choosing a husband who's fit enough for you. But whoever that lucky chap may be, as long as he makes you happy, he already has my blessing.”

“Do you think Jungwon will ask someone's hand this season?” Y/n joins her brother on the bed as they both stare at the ceiling in deep ponder. Niki gulps at the very sudden question from his sister, but he shrugs it away as he recalls a distant memory of her and Jungwon frequently fighting over twigs and branches when they were nothing but ten.

“Jay can only answer that for you. Why don’t you ask Sunoo? He never misses an opportunity to spill details about his brother to you.”

“But that would be too much, wouldn't it?” Y/n sighs in exhaustion. “I can never get that man to look in my direction.”

“He’d be damned to even try to, especially when Jay’s around. He may be his best pal but Jay has always been very protective about you.”

“Whoever’s the pretty lady to be asked by Jungwon will definitely be the luckiest girl, I bet.”

The boy has all the means to help his sister as he is deeply affiliated with Jungwon’s brother, Daniel. But Niki could only look at her in pity thinking of all the years Y/n has set her heart on the oblivious boy next door, only the latter seems to care less in bearing the lady’s genuine sentiments.

"Yang Jungwon!" A stern voice from a woman in her fifties resonates throughout the lad's powder room.

"Mother." He monotonously mumbled.

"Did I hear it correctly? You're not to dance with anyone at the ball?" With two hands on her waist, the young lord could almost see his mother's vein popping out on her wrinkled forehead.

"I suppose brother spilled the tea, huh? And yes, mother, you heard it correctly."

"Madness! If it weren't for Sunoo's knowledge of this I wouldn't have known. God knows what's going on inside of that brain of yours!"

"Mother, I am not fond of-"

"Nonsense! Not even the daughter of our dearest friend, Lady Park?"

"Most especially not her." Jungwon mutters under his breath.

"Do you even hear the absurdity of your words?"

"Certainly, I do, mother."

"Oh god, oh dear. You're giving me a headache right now." She rubs her temple in utter anxiety followed by a frustrated exhale. Lady Yang fumbles the surface of her dress until she got a handful of its fabric, gripping it upwards to free her steps from the hindrances while turning back from her son to leave him be. Until the eldest shows up from his supposedly brief reading schedule in the pantry.

“Ah! There you are. Talk some sense into your brother will you, dear? I might collapse if I bother to argue even more about his foolishness.” And Lady Yang leaves the two swiftly before they can even utter a word.

“What is it that you've done to mother now?” Sunoo, the eldest, walks slumpily towards Jungwon’s side while half-slamming the book on the marble counter.

“Shouldn't I be asking you that?” Jungwon side-eye him with a sneer.

“She was interrogating me with her unconquerable motherly vexes if you must know. Sincerely, brother, I'm not one to lie. Though, I did try my best.” The younger boy could only scoff at the sassy rebuttal from his brother.

“You could've tried harder. Or maybe, you could've just silenced yourself. Marvelous idea, isn't it?”

“Or maybe, you can put on a little effort to satisfy mother’s hopes even for one night. Brilliant, isn't it?”

Jungwon hisses as he unbotton his puff sleeves one by one with Sunoo looking at him in an almost scorn, pitying his brother for being a complete idiot, not to mention a coward too.

“I’m not a coward if that's what you're thinking. Let’s hear it, what would you have me do, brother?” The younger one looks at his brother’s reflection through the mirror like a brazen knight ready to be thrown into war. With both hands resting on the shiny countertop, he bites his bottom lip with a foreseeable answer in mind.

Sunoo taps the boy’s shoulder before heading to the door to leave him in his fickling decisions.

“Lady Y/n Park. Two dances, brother, then you can pray to spend the rest of your nights in peace.”

Jungwon gulps down followed by a deep sigh the moment Sunoo left the room, like an exhale he’s been trying to hold underwater for over a minute.

He could only hope that those two dances will be the last of it, or he could kiss his peaceful nights goodbye… forever.

*send me an ask or a message if you wish to be added on this series' taglist!

ㅡ ©ENHA-WOODZIES, 2021

[musicallisto]

Hi Clara!! Congratulations on 800 followers again!! (also I was looking through your blog and we have the same birthday!! 🥳) I was wondering if I could please have a male Bridgerton ship? I’m an ENFJ, libra, and Hufflepuff if that helps at all. I can be a bit introverted a times but I’m usually a pretty outgoing, kind, and optimistic person! (although I can be a bit sensitive at times lol) Currently I’m studying to be a teacher. My friends/family are very important to me, and I will always try my best to help them it whatever ways I can. As for some things I enjoy, I love to read and write, as well as spend all day watching movies. I’m also interested in signing, acting, etc. and making things with my hands (ie. knitting, embroidery). Thank you so much in advance!! 💛

hiii birthday twin!! <3 you seem like the most fantastic person ever, I love your personality - and your writing, but it goes without saying. I hope you like your vanilla milkshake, but don’t get caught sipping on it unchaperoned with benedict bridgerton, that would be quite the scandal...

Now, was I influenced by your profile picture? Probably. But even without it, you’d be perfect for each other, and let me tell you the story of you both.

For your first society outings, and following your debutante ball, you became the talk of all London. Sure, you were praised far and wide for your beauty, but there was something else, ineffable and far more tender, that caused your name to linger on most gentlemen’s lips.

It was your first season, and yet you had already shown a mesmerizing elegance and poise, as well as an acute optimism and enthusiasm, making your conversation all the more enjoyable to all those you encountered.

Benedict had noticed you on your first ball, when whispers of your name and your every move had spread among the crowd like wildfire, and he had to admit that you were radiant, and your warm and welcoming smile gave you beauty like no other, but bright eyes and rosy cheeks were legion this side of London, and he knew the superficiality of these pretty little faces all too well. He wasn’t intrigued enough to start up a conversation or ask you to dance, and imagined you would be married in a matter of weeks.

But as time went on, and you apparently gracefully declined each proposal you received, Benedict couldn’t help growing a little bit more captivated each time he heard your name. What could you possibly waiting for? You’d had dashing young men bring you presents, you’d had the wealthiest nobles serenade you with flowers and compare you to a summer’s day; you’d had sonnets and promenades and bouquets and jewelry... and yet you had rejected them all, but not out of malice, still with this grace that everyone knew you to have.

Perhaps, and it was a little pretentious of him to dare entertain the thought, but it pleased a small part of his soul nonetheless, perhaps what you were waiting for was a portrait.

Eventually, after having theorized for days about what could possibly prompt such unambiguous refusals from a lady who seemed to have plethora of choice, Lady Whistledown must have deemed your situation to be less worthy of attention, because not scandalous enough, and you, like most other trends and fashions in that everchanging society, became an old tale before you’d even reached your prime.

But paradoxically, exactly when you were no longer the subject of Whistledown’s tittle-tattle, were you the most intriguing to Benedict.

It was then that he finally asked you to dance, under the watchful (and, though she did not show it, agreeably surprised) gaze of Lady Violet Bridgerton.

“You look positively radiant, lady Y/L/N. Your gown is exquisite.”

And he immediately regretted every single word that he had just said; he sounded just like those boring Lords you had rejected one after the other; but he meant it, he truly meant it, for he was just then seeing the hues in your eyes and in your smile, all those colors like those of a vibrant landscape...

If there ever was a time to show the depths of his soul, it was then; but he had always been good at avoiding conversation, not prompting it.

Still, you didn’t drop your beaming smile, and answered with a slight blush.

“Thank you, my lord. It is... oh, you will think it’s silly.”

“Not at all, I promise.”

“You see, you are the first to say that. Other lords have reproached its simplicity, but I am rather fond of it, because I sewed it myself.”

“Really? That’s impressive!”

He found he had little trouble continuing with the conversation after that, because you were so easy to talk to, so understanding of everything he said and so enthralling to get to know. You were creative and great with your hands, an artist, just like him, and it was the first of many things he would love about you.

“Tell me, lord Bridgerton... I have heard that you are quite the artist yourself.”

“Oh, that’s a gross exaggeration, they are but half-good sketches, nothing of interest, truly...”

Yet as he danced the night away with you, he felt as though a new blood surged through his veins, ready to craft the most beautiful pieces the world had ever seen, if only they could resemble the colors of your face.

“Well, I would love to see these half-good sketches someday, if you allow. I am sure they are brilliant.”

You had never seen a lord blush before, especially not a Bridgerton. It made your heart soar like it had rarely before.

“If you so wish. I couldn’t possibly refuse a lady.”

All along the ride back home, Benedict has the hugest, silliest grin on his face as he looks wistfully at the night sky.

“If it is what it takes to see my beloved brother swoon like a simpleton, then I will come to society balls more often.”

“Eloise, do not talk of your brother like that!”

But she’s right - it only took one night for him to be completely enraptured by you. He understands what they all meant when they couldn’t keep your name out of their mouths, when they said you were delightful and spirited... but they all hurried with their proposals, without getting to know you first, without listening to you, without discovering the depths of your character, and it’s all he wants all he can think about.

The next morning, he’s at your doorstep with a bouquet, and, of course, tightly wrapped inside it so as to not draw suspicion, a few of his sketches, ones that he drew the evening prior because his mind was too restless to sleep.

And thus begins a long period of courtship that has all of London in a frenzy. Surely no one expected the second eldest Bridgerton and the former diamond to have an affinity for each other. Truly no one.

“My Benedict has his heart set on an accomplished lady, a beautiful and clever one at that - this truly is the season of surprises! All a fulfilled mother would need now is for your brother to be the next to mend his ways...”

“And all his brother would need now, mother, is an escape from this interminable paperwork, but alas.”

You can often be seen promenading together in Hyde Park - you enjoy the company of the squirrels and the geese as much as he loves taking in the sceneries to later paint them.

“Y/N, pardon me if it is too bold of me to ask, but why are you not engaged yet? Surely you must have had a plethora of charming young men propose to you...”

“Handsome they were, but hardly charming. Oh, they all had plenty of qualities... an estate by the sea, a racing stable with twenty horses, a spot in the throne succession... but, oh, I care little if this is unbecoming of me to say, they were all so boring! None of them had half the charm that you have. The hours fly by when I am with you, Benedict, and I am entirely truthful when I say I have never felt as content as I feel with you.”

Everyone is London is awaiting the moment they’ll see you with a ring on that finger, but it seems to never come; yet everything is idyllic and your courtship and, beyond that, in your friendship, and he sincerely knows that he is irrevocably and utterly in love with you. But he just doesn’t dare ask.

To the point that Benedict’s entourage give him signals that it is now or never. Even Anthony, though with varying success.

“If you don’t propose to Lady Y/L/N, brother, I will.”

(And no one believed that.)

“Fine, I will, then!”

“Eloise!”

But what he has with you is so special that he’s terrified of rushing things. What if you are not ready, what if he is not as interesting, just as boring as the other men you turned down? What if he read everything wrong? What if...

Until he shoots his shot. It’s not nearly as romantic as he expected, because he fumbles over his words a few times and almost drops the ring in the Hyde Park lake...

... but given the enthusiasm with which you nod and embrace him - not caring about the passerby’s judging gazes -, he’s not sure why he agonized over it so much.

It’s self-evident that your love story is one for the ages.

800 follower sleepover

[bloody-bee-tea]

BeeTober 2020 Day 9

Silk - Nostalgia

Day 9 of BeeTober stumped me for a good while, but with the help of Twitter and Tumblr I give you some Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling bonding, because Jiang Cheng is still the best jiu-jiu after all.

Jiang Cheng is standing in Jin Ling’s old room. He knows he should have packed everything up long ago, since Jin Ling barely comes to visit anymore now that he is Sect Leader—and if Jiang Cheng is being honest, the visits had dwindled even before that –but Jiang Cheng couldn’t bring himself to do it, yet.

Jin Ling grew up in this room, and Jiang Cheng can’t bear to let go of that yet, even though Jin Ling is a man now.

But it’s time.

It will still be Jin Ling’s room of course, Jiang Cheng reminds himself  of that again and again; it will still be the room he sleeps in when a conference happens at Lotus Pier, it will still be the room he sleeps in when he’s on a night hunt in the area, but Jiang Cheng figures for that to actually happen he should probably get rid of all the baby and kid things that are still in this room.

Jiang Cheng already got a few boxes to store them in, because he can’t quite part with them completely yet, but they are cluttering the room, and Jin Ling is certainly used to more space.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t even want to know just how grand his room in Jinlingtai must be and how small and insignificant this room must seem in comparison to him.

Jiang Cheng pushes those thoughts away, because the room was good enough for Jin Ling when he was a kid, and that’s really all that matters.

He won’t be around much anymore, after all, so if he has to sleep in a somewhat smaller room than at his home, he doesn’t get to complain.

Jiang Cheng starts with the closest closet; opens every drawer and door and simply throws everything in the boxes, without looking too closely at the things.

He knows he could get lost in all the nostalgia in this room, but he has a goal for today, and that is to clean this room, not to linger in it longer than necessary.

That thought is gone through the window almost before Jiang Cheng is even halfway done with cleaning out the room.

Jiang Cheng finds a chest full of toys, and he remembers how he carved most of them himself, between rocking Jin Ling to sleep and leading his Sect, and he notes with embarrassment that it’s more than obvious that he had no clue what he was doing back then.

Well, Jin Ling certainly liked them well enough when he was just a baby, and that’s really all that matters, Jiang Cheng reminds himself.

Maybe a few other toddlers would like them as well, Jiang Cheng thinks, stubbornly not noting how amateurish some of them look, and then still buries them inside the boxes.

He made them for Jin Ling. He’s not ready to simply accept that Jin Ling no longer has any use for them.

When Jiang Cheng opens the next drawer, he stills.

It’s full of onesies and romper suits, all fashioned with the most expensive silk, and they still look immaculate.

Jin Ling grew quickly as a baby, so he didn’t get to wear them often before he outgrew them, didn’t have a chance to ruin them all with food and his truly rambunctious nature as a kid, and looking at them now, Jiang Cheng is hit with a fresh wave of nostalgia.

Sometimes he really misses tiny Jin Ling.

It feels like just yesterday that Jiang Cheng ordered these particular baby clothes, and they really are exquisitely made.

Jiang Cheng can almost feel Jin Ling’s weight in his arms as he holds the clothes, remembers what a struggle it was to get him into some of them some days, and he can’t help the wistful smile on his lips.

Jiang Cheng would never say this out loud, doesn’t usually even dare to think it, but those really were good times, for all that Jin Ling was a fussy baby and Jiang Cheng got an average of about three hours of sleep at night.

With one last stroke of the soft clothes Jiang Cheng forces himself to put them into the box as well.

Now that he has seen them, and remembered his times with baby Jin Ling, it’s even more unlikely that he’ll give them away immediately.

If they take up too much space in this room, he’ll simply transfer them to his own room. He’ll make space for them somehow.

Jiang Cheng goes on, clearing out the room with a slower pace than he anticipated, but he finds too many things that stir a memory within him, too many things he is still so very fond of and he lingers over them and it takes him the better part of the day, before he reaches the last drawer.

There he finds clothes Jin Ling wore as a teen, robes that still hold the Yunmeng colour amongst all the gold, and it’s not even that long since Jin Ling shed them for the purely gold ones he wears nowadays.

Jiang Cheng hadn’t known he actually missed seeing Jin Ling in Yunmeng colours, so he is kind of unprepared for the wave of longing that washes over him.

He doubts he will ever see Jin Ling wear purple again.

Jiang Cheng ruthlessly squashes that feeling down—feeling guilty for even thinking it, because Jin Ling is not his and he’s the Sect Leader of one of the Great Sects now—and throws the robes into the boxes as well. Maybe he’ll get rid of those sooner than of the other things, if only to get rid of that stupid thought.

“Jiu-jiu,” Jin Ling’s voice suddenly calls out and he sounds so much like the tiny kid Jiang Cheng got used to having run around that it takes him a moment to realize that Jin Ling is actually in Lotus Pier.

“A-Ling?” Jiang Cheng calls back, and not even a second later Jin Ling storms into the room, only to come to a very abrupt stop.

“What are you doing?” he demands to know and Jiang Cheng let’s his gaze wander over the boxes, wondering what Jin Ling must see.

“Cleaning out your room?” he gives back and watches as Jin Ling’s face falls before he manages to put a frown on his face.

“What? I’m no longer welcome here, now that I’m Sect Leader?” he demands to know and Jiang Cheng knows him well enough—knows himself well enough—to know that Jin Ling is using that kind of tone to hide any hurt feelings.

He really did pick up all of Jiang Cheng’s worst habits.

“I wanted to make more space for you, actually,” Jiang Cheng gives back and picks up some of the old robes he just put into the box. “I thought you would appreciate it if you could hang up stuff you’re actually going to wear instead of these old rags.”

“Oh,” Jin Ling gives back and Jiang Cheng relaxes when Jin Ling does too.

“I thought you were renting out my room,” Jin Ling gives back, almost too easily, and steps closer to the boxes, curiously peeking inside.

Jiang Cheng smiles slightly, reassured now that he knows Jin Ling still thinks of this room as his and he shakes his head.

“Brat,” Jiang Cheng fondly says. “I would never.”

Jin Ling makes an affirmative noise and digs an onesie out of the box. The very same one Jiang Cheng had hesitated over for so long.

“Don’t throw them away,” Jin Ling says and Jiang Cheng arches an eyebrow at him.

“Why not?” 

“Maybe we can still use them,” Jin Ling gives back and now Jiang Cheng fights the urge to check him for a fever.

“I’m not very likely to have any kids. I’m not going through that again,” Jiang Cheng says and Jin Ling shakes his head.

“No, but I might,” he says with a small blush but it doesn’t help with Jiang Cheng’s confusion.

“But they are going to wear gold, if you do,” Jiang Cheng tells him, because if Jin Ling has kids—and Jiang Cheng sincerely hopes that he will, if only so he can dote on them—they will be the next heirs, so they should wear their Sects colours.

“What?”

“They will be your kids. Of course they are going to wear gold,” Jiang Cheng repeats, the frown still on his face, and this time, Jin Ling shakes his head.

“They will be your grandkids. Of course they are going to wear purple, too,” Jin Ling gives back, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and totally catches Jiang Cheng off guard with that.

“Huh?” he eloquently asks as he blinks at Jin Ling.

“Gods, don’t be stupid, old man,” Jin Ling chides him.

“Careful, brat,” Jiang Cheng gives back, more out of habit than anything else.

“You’re going to be their ye-ye, how are other people supposed to know about that if they don’t wear purple?”

“Are you serious?” Jiang Cheng asks, because he can’t quite believe that.

“Of course I mean it,” Jin Ling gives back, already more concentrated on the robes in his hands than on Jiang Cheng.

“Actually—,” Jin Ling starts and carefully considers the robes. “I think I want some purple in my clothes again, too. It is quite the look.”

“We can—,” Jiang Cheng starts, but has to clear his throat before he can finish his sentence, “certainly do that.”

“Good,” Jin Ling nods and then beams at Jiang Cheng.

“What now?” Jiang Cheng wants to know, because he knows that look and it spells trouble for him.

“If you could get it on with Zewu-Jun and finally ask him to marry you, that would be awesome, so I don’t have to order new robes shortly after, just to put some blue into them as well,” Jin Ling cheekily says and Jiang Cheng hates how he blushes at those words.

“You little brat,” he still says, and catches Jin Ling in a headlock. “How dare you speak like that to me, I’m your elder! I’m going to break your legs, just wait!”

“I’d like to see you try,” Jin Ling wheezes, and doesn’t put up as much of a fight as Jiang Cheng knows he could.

“But I’d like to wear purple again,” Jin Ling says more quietly, once he stops struggling and Jiang Cheng lets go of him immediately.

“Truly?” Jiang Cheng asks, because he can hardly believe that. 

“Of course,” Jin Ling mutters. “You’re my jiu-jiu after all. And this is my home too, is it not?”

“Of course it is,” Jiang Cheng immediately gives back, and he could weep at the warm, glowing feeling in his chest.

“Then people should be able to see that from my colours,” Jin Ling decidedly says and lifts one of his old robes. “I really like this design.”

“We can have them made for you again,” Jiang Cheng agrees, because he rather likes that design as well.

And when his eyes fall on the onesie Jin Ling barely had time to wear, he wonders if they can’t incorporate the silk from that one into the new robes as well.

For nostalgic purposes.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

[kuroshitsuji-scenarios]

11 with undertaker? Also I just remembered how much your writing slaps so I'm gonna go read everything again

Oh my—good luck! And thank you!

Pairing: Undertaker x Reader

Words: 1,135

Prompt: 11. “I didn’t hear any whispers.”

[ taglist ] [ commissions ]

His question surprised you no less than the fact that he offered you a cup of hot tea just when you went through his parlour’s door. It was not the first time you decided to pay him a visit—growing fond of his eccentric company was not something you planned alongside participating in one of those exquisite balls the high class of nobility was always invited to, nevertheless there you were. And you would be a liar if you told anyone that you did not enjoy the 5 o’clock tea and handmade biscuits with him every few days a week.

Undertaker was a source of many great surprises and he never failed to make you laugh. He was confident but not arrogant, clearly understanding his own nature, the task which was ever so difficult for many people. You, on the other hand, slowly learned how to express yourself more freely by his side and not cover yourself with odd conventions and social rules. You could be yourself, the vivid reflection of your personality and he never judged you for that, not even for a mere second.

Perhaps that was the reason why you eventually started loving him. The first man to not criticize your posture or manners or gaze. The first man who showed you the contest of how many biscuits can one fit into their mouth, the one who taught you to laugh out loud until your stomach hurts without covering your face, the first man who did not pay any attention to the way you sat on the couch and if you were wearing a corset or if your outfit was too much or not enough revealing. There was never a single inappropriate comment coming from his mouth, nor a lustful stare, no bad intentions.

He respected you in a way nobody did before, that is why it was impossible for you to not fall for him, even despite all his odds. If he could accept you with your flaws then you were not going to judge him either, especially since later you found out that they were somehow adorable, perfectly fitting puzzles of the whole image of him.

Until one evening, Undertaker asked you a single question with an expression far more serious than his usual, cheerful smile. He handed you a cup of tea and turned around to sit in an armchair in front of you, now the low, round table creating a border between you two. You did not like the cool aura which hanged in the air like a sharp knife, ready to fall down in every second.

“Haven’t you heard the rumours?”

Slowly, you shook your head. Naturally, there was many rumours around the manor, thousands of them wandering from one ear to the other, spreading lies and probabilities like a disease. None of them would apparently concern him, or so you thought.

“No,” you told him after taking a first sip of your tea—brewed just like you adored it the most. “I didn’t hear any whispers.”

Undertaker sighed deeply and glued his gaze to the small pot standing on the table, the one filled with now dying flowers he once gave to you. It was weeks ago and he was surprised how long did they manage to stay alive, considering how there was not enough natural light in the funeral parlour.

“What kind of rumours?” you insisted, now curious about the whole subject he brought. “People always gossip about the most ridiculous things, there’s no need for you to worry about it. Whatever you heard, they’ll forget about it sooner or later.”

“Some are not made to be forgotten, poppet. The ones only the death can erase.”

“And do you care about them? About what people say about you?” You were growing concerned, never facing this kind of situation before. Until then, Undertaker never really cared about opinions and it was clearly visible both in his attitude and appearance. Now it was different.

“It’s not that if I care for that matter, but rather if you do.” He peeked at you from under the snow white bangs. The tips must have tickled him when he slightly turned his head to you, because his nose wrinkled a little.

You thought for a moment, wondering what was this conversation leading to. Did he want you to stop visiting him? Prepare you for something you were going to hear soon? Share some dark secret? Whatever it was, you were slowly growing uneasy.

“What’s going on?” you asked then, looking at him for any signs of an answer. You were always open and sincere around him, and you hoped that he was, too.

Maybe you were wrong.

“There are some whispers regarding me,” Undertaker started after a long pause. “I suppose you can imagine they’re not the kindest. Still, lately I’ve had a peculiar encounter with a person I haven’t seen in a long time (and I was hoping to never see them again, if you ask me) and it led me to the situation where you can hear something about me. Something unpleasant. Of course, I didn’t want you to hear it from them, nor did I want to give them a reason to blackmail me so I decided to reveal the truth to you myself. Perhaps you’ll handle it better if you’ll hear it from me, not from anybody else.”

You were listening to him carefully, the cup of tea in your hands getting cooler and you did not even notice. Your mind was creating dozens of possible scenarios but whatever mystery he was hiding, it could not be too bad for you to understand, right?

“Whatever you say,” you assured patiently “remember that I love you. And no matter what you did, I will always support you.”

The smile which appeared on his lips was sad.

“We’ll see about that, poppet.”

“Well? Don’t make me wait any longer and allow me to decide by myself whether my feelings are everlasting or not. What kind of rumours did you have in mind?”

The armchair creaked under his weight when he stood up and moved few steps from you, the heels of his shoes echoing on the wooden floor. He reached behind his back like a magician preparing for the great trick and you were too focused on his hands to notice the uncertain look in his eyes—for the great trick he truly did, materializing an enormous scythe in his palm, the blade so clean and sharp that you could spot your own reflection in it. Undertaker stood there, observing your reaction for a short while, clearly giving you a space and a chance to escape if you only wanted to.

His voice was barely a hoarse whisper when he spoke again.

“The rumours that I am Death.”