#in my mind fix it fics seem like they should be reserved for things that were actual trashfires

[becasbelt]

idk but if i see the words "fix it" associated with a season 2 fic i'm just not gonna read it. like. sorry no i'm actually not interested in seeing how you think you would've done better than the arcane writers, but have so much fun with that <3

[fillinforlater]

SULLied MINd

Male Reader x Kim Minju, Seol Yonna (Sullyoon)

Length: 10.228 words

Tags: art-project all nighter turns threesome, secret crushes, softly making out, stripping, striptease, shy to bold, double blowjob, worshiping cock and balls, cunnilingus, fingering, clit play, facial, cumsluts, virginity taken, missionary, sweat, stocking kink, riding, rimming, stand and carry, cum drinking, lots of perverted thoughts, lucky!you

TW: I barely finished this in time, so the editing is not that in depth lol

Inspiration: Minju and Sullyoon just go together very well, dunno if @sinswithpleasure was the first to give this idea, but the pairing definitely comes from The Bunker... the rest is my own craziness

(A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVORITE GIRL! Happy Minju day to everyone, I hope you enjoy this fic which was supposed to be like around 4-5k...)

“No, you gotta put it in here, not in there!”

“I-I can’t, my hand is too big for the hole.”

“Then try using your fingers, that should work.”

“Eh, okay, but you need to hold onto the legs, otherwise it’ll fall over.”

“Let me get in between the—ah, Minju, watch out! Now my hand is all white.”

“Oops, Sorry.”

The struggle behind you is real, the struggle in front of you—the unfinished essay due tomorrow that is—is real too, but those spoken words cannot be real. You know exactly what Minju and Sullyoon are referring to when talking about white stuff and holes and size. After all, they are working hard to wrap up the project all of you have procrastinated on for so long and it’s bound to be a mess.

You start to trip over your own unspoken words. The lewdness in your mind is unfathomable, a mess can be a mess without mess being the wild, chaotic, imaginary sex that seems to creep into your brain more and more.

No, focus. It’s just a mess because Sullyoon and Minju still don’t know how to put together the human-sized post-modern sculpture of a robot made from cardboard, newspapers and glue—white glue, that drips from Sullyoon’s hand as she tries to shove a painted cardboard cylinder into—

You did it again. Your thoughts are betraying you.

“What are you looking at?” Sullyoon nags, when she spots your dreamy gaze on her hand. Wait, are you drooling? What the fuck is happening?

“N-nothing, nothing,” you quickly turn around and look at the pathetic pile of words that neither make sense nor reach the required minimum amount to pass. “It’s just that—you two are too loud, I can’t concentrate.”

Minju throws you a concerned look, while Sullyoon aggressively wipes her hands on a paper towel and hits you over the head with a piece of cardboard. Now there’s some stickiness in your hair

“Oh yeah? You’re still the furthest behind—I’ll do the writing, I can’t build for shit—that’s what you said and you are still not finished.”

“Sully, please, don’t scream,” Minju groans and gets on her knees in between the sculptures legs, her head on level with what could be its crotch. “Let’s just focus, okay? Can you give me the, uhm, white stuff? I need to fix the butt.”

And now Minju is spreading glue all over the—it’s better you look away and focus on the task ahead. The essay should go over all the different periods of, uhm. Or maybe the various stages during, some-thing? Perhaps the teacher wants a concise summary of how you came up with the idea and created the illusion of Sullyoon sticking her fingers in Minju’s pussy and making her face contort into—

“You’re drooling!” Sullyoon shouts and hits you again.

“Sully, please!” Minju tries to calm the situation down.

“What? Can I not be angry that this lazy ass is just daydreaming—”

“Sully, language! And stop screaming!”

“You’re both screaming and shouting, how should I concentrate?”

“You—”

Sullyoon is about to throw hands. Though they both might give off a similar reserved, kind, beauty vibe to the unsuspecting outsider, Sullyoon and Minju are quite different. It shows now more than ever, when Sullyoon slams her fist on the desk next to you and stares you down into the chair, while Minju sits on her bed, one leg crossed over the other, head lowered in defeat and annoyance.

“Stand up,” Sullyoon orders, her grip on your biceps harsh, as if she tried to scar you with her nails. “I’ll do it, save the project while you can fuck off.”

“The fuck?” you shout back, face angry. Sullyoon’s hand is slapped away and you’re about to fight more if she doesn’t back off. “You won’t do anything, and don’t curse at me. Who do you think you are?”

“Guys—”

“Oh my God, you’re unbelievable!” Sullyoon interrupts Minju and opens her adorable eyes wide in rage. “You’re gonna fail us with that—pathetic excuse of a text.”

“It would be better if you could keep your mouth shut, Sullyoon, and let me finish this in peace. Also, the robot is still not upright. If he falls over, Miss Kwon will rip our heads off.” You can barely hold yourself together. The only positive thoughts for Sullyoon, if you can call them that, are the lewd ones, those imagining her naked, her navel exposed, her pussy bare.

“Guys, I—!”

“Oh and that’s my fault? I bet your drool will make it unstable. I swear if you turn around one more time—”

“Then what? You’ll beat me, assault me? I think Miss Kwon won’t give you a better grade then—”

An ear-shattering boom. The door is shut, the door to Minju’s room—Minju, who is not with you anymore. For such a kind and bubbly girl, this fight must have killed her. She was the one suggesting that you all do the project at her place, with her parents out of town. She made cookies beforehand and had something planned for dinner too.

“I-I think we overdid it,” Sullyoon sums it up with an usually soft whisper and you nod in shame. Minju has been nothing short of an excellent host for the two of you.

Suddenly, Sullyoon’s phone rings. She doesn’t get time to answer it however, as the caller seems to end the call within a moment's notice.

“I’ll be out, gimme a second,” Sullyoon says and runs to the door.

“Sure.” She didn’t even hear that, that’s how quiet your voice was. Outside, you hear Sullyoon hurrying down the stairs. There is turmoil in your head about what you ought to do. Should you just sit here and wait for them to come back? Is it better if you go downstairs as well, apologize to Minju, so the three of you can continue with the project? Should you continue alone, perhaps?

You decide on option four: sneak towards the door, carefully open it and then lay low while trying to pick up what they are talking about. They surely aren’t fighting anymore, but their voices are loud enough for you to clearly hear every word.

“It was stupid of me, okay? Can we go back upstairs and finish our sculpture?” Sullyoon asks with loving care.

“I-I don’t know if I can,” Minju sniffles. “This was embarrassing.”

“What do you mean? You weren’t embarrassing, we were. This fight was—”

“No, you don’t get it, Sully!”

Now things seem to get heated. You can hear Minju jumping up from a chair, while Sullyoon gasps.

“Then explain it to me, Minju!”

“Okay, screw it.

“I like him, okay? Two years, I have waited two years for us to finally be in a project—and now you two are fighting! You are ruining my chances with him!”

The silence is deafening. If you weren’t lying prone on the floor already, your knees would have collapsed and you would’ve landed in the same spot anyways. What a revelation! For the first time in your life, you believe that either your ears are deceiving you or that you’re in the most lucid dream imaginable. Never before has a girl had feelings for you—

“This can’t be real,” Sullyoon suddenly laughs out loud. “You like this guy?”

“Wha-what do you mean?” Minju hisses back, whiny, like she’s about to cry. “He is very-very handsome a-and I’ve seen his abs. He is also smart, have you heard him talk about history? It’s so attractive.”

“Yeah, of course I have, he is like talking non-stop in history class.” Sullyoon’s tone has shifted from shocked and dismissive to a bit dreamy, almost like she is admiring you. “And the way he pronounces all these foreign words, or how he gives it his all in PE—”

“Wait a minute,” Minju interjects and you can hear the grin as it forms on her face. “You like him too, Sully!”

“Not anymore, not after his lazy ass didn’t do a damn thing during our project.” Another second of silence, then both of them start laughing hysterically, one is stomping on the floor, the other tries to cover her mouth to muffle the loudness.

You’ve heard enough. No, seriously. At this point, you could die happily. Two of the prettiest girls in the entire school like you and both of them are in your project group which will surely last until the next morning at your current pace. What else could you want more? Countless guys would kill to have such an opportunity.

But you want more.

“Crazy, we have the same crush. Oh, have you seen the pictures of his abs?” Minju asks excitedly after the two have finished their laughing fit.

“No, but I was about to ask: how did you get those?” Sullyoon gasps again and then giggles while both start to whisper. The whispers are too quiet, you can barely pick up any syllables. This marks the perfect moment to get back in front of the PC so they won’t catch you eavesdropping when they come back up. It also gives you time to think about what you want to do.

The image of them and their crush on you hasn’t fully settled yet, however, you’re already planning how this night might continue, what might happen, what you should say. Unlike during exams, you don’t feel pressure or tension that’s about to crush you—there is just excitement and a feeling of being loved.

“Hey, we-we are back,” Minju says a few minutes later, her face all red when she enters her room. Sullyoon follows after her, her hair a bit messier than before. Unlike Minju, she is able to hide her feelings for you quite well, now that you know.

“Hey,” you respond with a soft voice. “Look, Minju, I’m so sorry about earlier. I should’ve done my job. I won’t let you guys down this time, I promise. Sullyoon, if you want to, you can write the text. Sorry that I was so rude earlier.”

“I-it’s fine.” Both their voices seem to break when you stand up and give each an apologetic bow. With your new knowledge, you assume that this is a good sign, like selecting the correct dialogue option in a video game.

“Are you sure you want to switch, though?” Sullyoon asks and you nod.

“It’s settled then.” Minju grabs a wrist from you and a wrist from Sullyoon and has this adorable, bright smile on her beaming face. “Let’s not fight anymore and finish this dang project!”

“You are absolutely right, Minju!” you gleefully say. “You two are pretty awesome, so I’ll give it my all.”

Both their breaths pick up in pace; who would have thought that you could make the hearts of girls flutter with just a bright, sunshine smile. Sullyoon and Minju quickly dive back into work, ears still red, and you pretend to be completely unaware. Unaware of their feelings, unaware of their hopes, unaware of their—potentially sullied thoughts.

But could those two angelic looking girls really have the same impurities in their minds as you do? Can it match your fantasies of one of them admitting their love to you tonight, you kissing, cuddling and fucking secretly in the bathroom, while the other continues to work on the project? Maybe they have similar thought, but did they ever consider—

“Can you, uhm, hand me the, eh—” Minju stutters and taps her temple in thought. She looks adorable doing so.

“Do you need the model? Some cardboard? Scissors?” you ask back but Minju shakes her head, a bit abashed that she lacks the focus to say which item she needs. Thinking of scissors, your fantasy does not stop at some one-on–one lovemaking. You’d want the other to join, all three of your tongues in a make out session while your hand is in the back of their panties. You want to fondle their butts and hear them moan before they would scissor, their wet pussies rubbing up and down your manhood until you explode.

“I need the… white stuff.”

“You need the white stuff—from me?”

A quiet whisper, Sullyoon could not have picked it up. Minju halts for a second, then her face turns beet red and she hides it behind her palms, while her eyes keep looking at your awfully-well played innocent expression. Worriedly, you reach for her face and Minju gasps. What does she expect? Certainly not what follows.

“Oh, there is some glue in your hair, Minju. Guess we should wash out the white stuff~”

With that said, you grab her hand and pull her out of her bedroom. To the surprise of Sullyoon, whose questions go unheard, you and Minju enter the upper floor bathroom. There you immediately find a wet towel and start to rub Minju’s hair, and with every second that you dishevel her hair, you also seem to dishevel her mind.

Minju is perplexed, trembling, unable to react to you, especially when you inch closer and really focus on that annoying spot. The two of you forgot to turn on the bathroom lights, so there is only the dim moonlight to reveal to you the absolute dream that are Minju’s eyes: full of love, uncertainty and want.

“I think I got it out,” you finally whisper and drop the towel. “Sorry for messing up your hair.”

Minju smiles softly: “N-no, thank you. You might have saved it, a-actually.”

“Minju—” A moment of silence, full of purpose, of tension, but you bask in it. You can hear Minju’s heart racing and if you’re honest, the muscle in your chest is pumping like crazy as well. “You, you are very beautiful, one of the prettiest girls on this planet.”

“Re-really!?”

“Yes. I wish I could

“Kiss your lips; they look so soft.”

They are so soft, no doubt about it, especially when they accept you so willingly at first and then won’t let go when you try to pull back a little. Minju is on cloud nine and she wants to stay. Her adorable hands hold onto your sleeves, while you hold the back of her head securely in the palm of your hand. There is no tongue movement, there is no tongue movement needed, because it all comes together for her—

A fairy tale moment, out of nowhere, for the girl with her crush.

But your play isn’t over. After a short while, you regretfully remove yourself from her lips and continue to hold her close, hand on the small of her back. When you look down you are greeted by a look—this look of mesmerized love, with teary eyes of joy and panting lips of desire on Minju’s flawless features. How could you want more?

This is how mankind moves forward: by wanting what they don’t yet have.

“Minju,” you take a deep breath and close your eyes. “I—before we continue, and I really do want to—I have to tell you something.”

“Y-yes?”

“I like you, I really, really like you.

“But you know how multiple people can have the same crush? I, my heart, has this issue that—I, I like multiple people! I can never escape it, there is nothing I can do. That doesn’t mean that my love isn’t real—I just want to be honest with you.”

Minju, in the midst of all these surprises and twists and turns for her, looks surprisingly calm and nods carelessly. Of course she is a bit dazed, after all, your lips were just on hers and she can take them back just by getting on her toes, but this should still be a bit weird for her. At least, that is what you assumed.

“I-I don’t care,” she suddenly blurts out and her arms wrap around you tightly. “Why should I judge you? There are probably so many pretty girls out there. I-I’m just happy that you… noticed me.”

“Are you for real?” In a sudden surge of happiness, you lift Minju up and spin her around. “You are so wonderful, I know why I fell in love with you.”

This should wrap up your Oscar performance—well, it’s already beyond that. At this point the feelings for Minju feel more than just acted. How could they not? She is gorgeous, light, her lips are tender, her character adorable and you cannot escape what your heart is telling you: love her, because she loves you.

There is however still—

“Pl-please! Please love me too!”

A loud scream, and Sullyoon bursts into the room. You may not be able to see the correct colors of her face, but you know she is either pale because Minju ‘stole’ you from her or she is red all over because she thinks there is a chance, a tiny chance that you also like her. Nonetheless, all these thoughts become irrelevant, because Minju almost collapses from shock. You catch her before she is able to hit her head on the sink.

The bathroom door still rattles, but the three of you just stare at one another, eyes wide open. The situation is so absurd, you must be dreaming, dead or in heaven—all at the same time, Minju’s entire existence is in your arms and Sullyoon seems willing to join her. She is close, her hands folded as if she is begging for your love. Her breath is hot, right in your face and so unsteady.

“Sullyoon.” Minju’s voice is faint, not even a whisper, but it’s loud. It’s both a statement and a question, a question directed at you. Is this what you were talking about earlier? Could it really be that the two who have a crush on you, would not have to fight? To put it very simply: Do you love Sullyoon too?

At least tonight, you do.

“I—

“I do, actually.” Those few words have you out of breath, before you can continue, Sullyoon has taken a spot in your arms next to Minju. The speed with which your dreams come true is mind boggling, but you play it cool and hold both of them close, an arm around each of their waists.

“You mean it?” Sullyoon has never sounded this cute, not in class, not during breaks and definitely not tonight. Who can resist her with those pouty lips that adorn silky smooth, perfectly symmetrical features? “You really like me?”

“Yes, I do, I like you both. This, this has to be a dream.”

“What, uhm,” Minju stutters and looks at you, similar expression to Sullyoon, her eyes also beaming, her chin tilted towards you—their similarities become uncanny in this dimly lit bathroom. “What are we going to do now?”

“I don’t know,” you whisper and smile.

“We still have a project to finish,” Sullyoon sighs and puts her head against your chest, which does not make for a good pillow with its constant up and down movement and Minju right next to her.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I think we should finish it. Let’s focus and then maybe our thoughts are a bit more… sorted.” Both girls nod, but it takes some more convincing before they let you go. The fear that they could lose you to the other makes them stay a bit longer until you have to push through them. It’s a playful struggle, which is only resolved when the three of you go back to Minju’s room.

All is quiet for a good, productive thirty minutes. The cardboard sculpture is finally painted and read to dry, the text only needs a few more tweaks, the project is in its final stage. All you can think about, however, are your groupmates, especially when your sight drifts away from the task ahead to their faces, their hands, their hips.

“Minju, can you help me?” Sullyoon groans. “I need to finish, this bottom part is so hard!”

“Of course, let me just—put this here and this into that—do you think it fits now?”

“It still looks too big, don’t you think? Maybe we should stretch it—”

“Or we could share it? I think if we both do it, it will be better.”

Hit yourself on your forehead, because the brain behind it once again can only think of the lewd. Minju and Sullyoon are trying their best to format this text and split it into fair portions for the presentation—yet all you think about is how they admire your big cock, share it in between their parted lips and then, Minju helps Sullyoon to go down on it with her throat.

After you are all covered in her spit, Sullyoon would grab your base and put it on Minju’s folds, ease you into her and all kinds of moans would fill the room and alert all neighbors who are still awake.

“I think this is good,” Minju ultimately concludes and turns to you. “Do you want to take a look too?”

You shake your head. “Uhm, no, I’m sure it’s excellent. Wow, looks like we really finished it.”

“Okay, so.” Sullyoon spins around in her chair, hands hidden in between her thighs and everything vibrates. “Are we going to talk now about… our situation?”

“I think we are all adults, we can talk about it.” Minju fidgets a bit and looks at you. They are both waiting for you to say something, but you just smirk without a worry in the world and lay down on Minju’s bed.

“Sure, we can talk. Let’s be honest, be free. Don’t care what the rest things, just

“Tell me what you feel.”

Sullyoon pushes the chair closer to you with her feet and Minju sits down on her bed, less bold than Sullyoon, because her eyes are fixed on the other end of the mattress. You get her attention when you fingers lock with hers, but the first to speak up is Sullyoon.

“I think I have a crush on you. Two years ago it started and I can’t explain why, but—you grew very handsome during that time a-and you’re pretty smart, so—”

“I feel the same!” Minju suddenly shouts and her fingers squeeze yours tightly. “And sorry, I-I once took a picture of your, uhm, abs when you changed your shirt. It was stupid, I’ll delete it right now—”

You laugh and pull Minju on top of you. Now her gaze cannot escape yours anymore and she has to see the true awe in your eyes. A natural awe for her beauty, her kindness and the way her honesty reveals all those secret feelings.

“Delete them if you like,” you hum and place the palm of Minju’s hand on your abdomen while flexing your muscles. “But you can take some more high quality pictures, if you want to.”

Jealousy overtakes a formerly hesitant Sullyoon and she pounces onto the bed next to you. Her hands are still hidden in between her thighs, but you can see that she wants to touch what Minju is already groping.

Sullyoon doesn’t even have to ask. You grab her wrist and slowly guide it under your sweatshirt. Though she tries to act shocked and abashed, you can feel her digits roaming all over your abs greedily as she visibly drools. Minju had most of your attention until now. Now it’s Sullyoon’s turn to feel your love in the form of a wet kiss pressed right onto her already wet lips. Unlike Minju, she tries to go all in on the first go, but you quickly pull away with a chuckle and watch her eager tongue searching for your mouth.

“Sully, open your eyes,” you softly laugh at her and drag a finger over her flushed, tender cheek as she does so. “Don’t be scared, I’m not going anywhere. If you are okay with it, I can love you both with all my heart.”

“I want to share you,” she says with determination and immediately contradicts her statement by lunging at you and starting a torrential kiss that has Minju hiding her face behind her long, cascading hair. It’s all faux, because in the meantime, she has rolled up your sweatshirt to your chest. Gently she pokes your pecs and you giggle into the kiss with Sullyoon.

“Good to know we are all on the same page,” you finally voice your own feelings when Sullyoon backs off to catch her breath. “I think I could cuddle you both for the rest of the night and forget every worry, every task, every stupid responsibility ahead of us.”

Funny how your dreams come true, again. An arm around each of their waists, you pull Minju and Sullyoon deeper into the softness of pillows and blankets generously spread on Minju’s mattress. Both your cheeks are quickly peppered with kisses, cute, hesitant ones from Minju, from chin to ear and wild, playful ones from Sullyoon, from the edge of your collarbone to your lips. She seals them again and this time you can hear Minju become jealous with a loud huff.

This back and forth of envy, you see no way to disrupt it anytime soon. Come to think of it, maybe you don’t want to. This dynamic pushes them further to reveal more of their love, so give them what they want. You are theirs to love and play with—but you will play with them too.

“Minju,” you say, your voice purposefully low and more serious than before. “You have such amazing hips. They are wide and look so perfect on you.”

You turn towards her and reach for the top of her skirt. Insert a couple fingers into it and let them glide along the waistband until you reach the outermost point of her hips. Minju tenses up when you begin to grab her hips, the skin of your palms right on her underwear, slipped into her skirt. You pull her even closer and she is back to holding onto your sleeves.

“Such nice hips.” Rub them, and Minju starts to rub herself on you, face on your bare chest and crotch on your thigh. Speaking of thighs, Sullyoon might have felt neglected for a second, so you find her mouth with ease and bully her tongue with yours while putting a hand on her inner thigh. Sullyoon shrieks the more you touch her jeans-clad legs, no matter if you go down to where her calves begin or if you go up to where her pussy is aching.

“Wow, Sully, your legs, your thighs are fantastic. I bet they are very soft.”

“T-touch them more, please,” Sullyoon softly whimpers and you nod. Minju is too enamored with her own thighs around yours, she does not realize her friend popping open her jeans and sliding them down. Your hesitation, your careful planning gets thrown out of the window when you slide your hand over her soft skin and go to bite her lips.

“They are the softest, damn, I could knead them all day long.” Your hot breath mixes with Sullyoon when you go from some basic thigh stimulation to cupping her sex and pressing your palm on her covered clit. “Your panties are cute too~”

No time to focus on Sullyoon’s embarrassed face, because Minju’s takes your entire view. You try to kiss her mouth but she backs off, even climbs off the bed and stands next to it. Both her hands firmly grasps the hem of her skirt, her knuckles turn white—that’s how hard she grabs it while her voice sounds absolutely love drunk:

“I-I have cute panties too,” she complains and lifts her skirt up, higher than you thought she would dare to. Not only you, her crush, that can see this most private part, but her friend can as well. Your eyes are glued to the small, pink garment with its tiny wet spot at the front, very cute indeed, maybe even cuter than Sullyoon’s baby blue panties which at this point become ruined on your hand.

“They are really cute, Minju.” You smile, she cracks a small smile. “I did not know you two had such lewd minds and wild fantasies.”

“Can we see y-your underwear now?” Sullyoon avoids your statement with a pout while simultaneously confirming it. Minju joins her nods, skirt still held high, her panties just a bit wetter at the thought of you. “Yes, please, we-we want to see it, it’s only fair!”

“Hm, how about a deal then, my two lewd girlfriends: I’m all yours, you can undress me and play with me until you are satisfied, but first you give me a show. I want you two undressing each other slowly. Sounds like a deal?”

At this point, everything is so out of control, you might as well ask for a favor that usually would get you kicked out. After all, this isn’t porn, not every girl is into girls and into threesomes, but Minju and Sullyoon have shown to be so needy for you, their libido will take over all reasoning. To no surprise, both only hesitate for a second.

“I’m okay with that,” Sullyoon whispers. “You too, Minju?” She leaves the spot in your arm and walks behind her friend. “Are you okay with me touching you?”

“S-sure.” They both get into it quickly. Minju drops her arms and lets them dangle while her needy face is directed at you. Sullyoon makes sure you can see her fingers play with the waistband of Minju’s skirt, just like you did, and she teases you by only pulling down one side, then the other. It’s only when you groan in disapproval that she moves upwards and pulls Minju’s sweatshirt over her head.

You totally expected a bra behind this comfy, cotton barrier, but no: Minju is wearing a white shirt underneath and the tease just continues. Sullyoon finds the lowest button first and works her way up, sending chills down Minju’s spine.

An amazing midriff, toned abs around a cute little navel; you can’t help but ogle when Sullyoon presses her fingers into them and gasps in surprise. No words need to be spoken—that’s probably how Minju likes it more as well. She struggles to relax, especially when the final button pops and her shirt opens like curtains to reveal her bra, the same color as her panties, erect nipples visible through the thin garment.

“May I?” Sullyoon asks, basically blowing the question into Minju’s ear as her hands already fiddle with the clasp of the bra. The sound of silence is nothing but hot breaths and the faint creaking of Minju’s bed as you adjust yourself to get closer with her still-covered breasts.

Still covered.

Still covered.

“O-okay,” Minju whispers, whines, it doesn’t matter, you finally get to see her upper body in all its glory, and you find glory to be an understatement: her breasts are perfectly symmetrical, not saggy but quite perky and a bit smaller than your hands. You could cover them up and knead them without much effort; it takes effort however to not look absolutely overwhelmed as your dreamy eyes focus on erect nipples and round arolae.

“What do you think?” Sullyoon asks the question with an answer that is obvious but hard to put into words.

“Minju, your body looks…

“... very, very hot. I-I’ve never seen something so flawless.”

“And you haven’t even seen what’s behind this~” Sullyoon’s voice is sultry as she taps Minju’s skirt. She once again teases you, her smooth hand under the skirt and once you hear Minju shriek, you know what she is about to do.

Sullyoon removes those stained panties, while Minju still wears her skirt. The miniscule petite underwear wraps around her ankles while her dainty digits wrap around the hem of her skirt. At this point, your drool cannot be held back. You need to see her most private place.

“Let, let me do it!” Minju says with confidence and as if she’s as impatient as you are, pulls the skirt up and shuts her eyes. Sullyoon chuckles lightly and gets a hold of Minju’s hips, while you are about to dive into those wet folds, small and pink and definitely untouched. You notice a small strip of hair above her clit which looks like it should twitch at any moment. Minju’s visible arousal becomes your visible arousal and before you can end the teasing session and start a new session, Sullyoon interrupts you:

“Shouldn’t Minju undress me now?”

“Wha—oh… yeah, sure,” you respond and hold your horny horses. Minju looks a bit dazed when she drops the skirt and opens her eyes again. You help her gain focus by reaching for her hands and holding them. “Nothing to be ashamed of, Minju, you are perfect down there as well.”

“Re-really?”

“Yes, I’d never lie to the girls I love.

“Now, why don’t you help Sullyoon get out of those… tight jeans?”

Sullyoon smirks. Without you noticing it, she pulled her pants back up and made sure that they showed the outline of her shapely butt. She is a tease like no one before or after; fortunately, Minju seems to not get what teasing is about: with you still right beside her, she puts all her strength at pulling the denim down—the denim and Sullyoon’s panties.

“Eh, what are you—Minju!” Sullyoon complains loudly.

“So-sorry, did I do it wrong?”

“You, you were too fast!” The shyness returns to Sullyoon’s face as she buries it in the crook of her arm.

“No reason to fight,” you ease the flames of conflict burning before you. “I think Minju did a great job and your butt is great, Sullyoon.”

“No, don’t say that, it’s too big!”

“I’m gonna say it again.” You emphasize your words with a good squeeze on both her cheeks while Minju’s wide eyes are on the dumpy before her. “You have a fantastic butt, not too big, definitely not too small, perfect.”

Your kneading hands leave Sullyoon a mewling mess, speechless, even as Minju goes and undresses her further. It’s all a lot quicker, the top is removed easily, the bra falls with a simple click and Sullyoon is the first to be fully nude. She stops your continued handsy attacks on her ass with a spin around. Unlike Minju, her pussy is freshly shaven and her entire body looks like it was made just for this moment.

“Someone is prepared,” you say with a smile and drag a finger up her midriff to her tits which are nice handfuls of their own, similar in size and shape to Minju’s.

“You are mean,” Sullyoon pouts and suddenly starts to embrace you. You gasp. Her body is almost scorching hot. “I waited so long for this.”

“I bet you couldn’t look better. No dream, no imagination can make your body look any sexier.”

“Thank you, I’m glad you like it.”

The sound of someone crawling onto the bed gets your attention. Minju lays next to you, her skirt finally kicked away and she stretches her arms forward in search of your embrace. That poor girl is desperate, however, you don't make it to her before Sullyoon unzips your pants.

“It’s only fair if we get to see you too, right, Minju?” Sullyoon asks, her tone making it clear that the answer cannot differ from her needs.

“Should I strip for you too?” you say with a witty smile, but Minju comes to Sullyoon’s aid.

“Enough teases, I—I can barely think!”

The striptease must have set something in motion within Minju: her shyness is only apparent on her fully red cheeks, her hands have already taken a different path. Boldly, they yank down both your pants and briefs in strong pulls, past your erection, which comes back swinging at her. Minju dodges it, because she can’t stop looking at Sullyoon behind you, arms resting on your shoulder, lips suckling at your neck.

“So big!” Minju can’t hold back her shock and awe at the shape, the bend, the size.

“Yeah,” Sullyoon dreamily adds. “We really have to share him from now on.”

Things are out of control. Every further plan of slowly getting to your dream threesome scenario are useless, laughable, when both your new lovers shove you down into the mattress and somehow find space on and in between your legs to intently stare at and past your phallus. Minju and Sullyoon are often not on the same page, sometimes polar opposites in class, but tonight they are more than united.

While Minju is in awe at how you throb and seemingly still grow into the air, Sullyoon eagerly spits into her hand and slowly spreads her saliva on your shaft. The thoughtfulness, carefulness and softness of her fingers make every pump of hers fade into absurdity. Right from the get go, Sullyoon’s handjob is already on the level of jerking yourself off.

“Have you ever done this, Minju?”

“N-no, never. Not even close.”

“I—only have with not real dicks.” The two blush, but there is no need to intervene. Unlike in most classes, they are eager to study for themselves, learn new tricks and test them on you.

“How about you start down at his… sac, while I go from the top?” Sullyoon suggests and Minju nods. However, you still see hesitance in her eyes, probably because she is afraid of screwing things up or making it awkward.

“They are full for you, Minju,” you softly coo and brush her hair as she almost puts her lips on them. Okay, maybe she needs the tiniest of pushing to finally— “Put your lips on them, give them a kiss. Nothing to be afraid of.”

Sullyoon is definitely not afraid. She wraps her mouth around your cockhead and begins to twirl her tongue around it. The taste of your precum must have urged her on, because she hums happily and sucks loudly. It’s like your cock is the straw in her favorite drink, that's how aggressively she sucks and her eyes roll into the back of her head. Meanwhile Minju sneakily tries to find the best spot to wrap her lips around your crown jewels, her adorable expression unpurified when she decides to go for it.

“Oh fuck!” you groan and your body arches involuntarily. More of your manhood is pressed onto their faces, into their eagerly drooling holes; it makes you wonder if you even need their pussies if this already feels so heavenly. The eagerness and playfulness of Sullyoon paired with the gentleness and sweetness of Minju makes for a double blowjob that could drain you embarrassingly fast.

Something inside your stomach tells you to just release it. Let them suck, let them play, until you just release it all over them without worry in deep bliss. Before that happens, you have to get back at them. It would be quite the disappointing night if this was your only load and they wouldn’t have any stimulation until then. You have to come up with a plan, while Sullyoon pops you from her mouth with a deep moan.

“Minju, let’s switch,” she suggests. “He tastes really good, you have to try it. Don’t worry about the size, I couldn’t take it either.”

“Oh, okay, his, his balls are quite hard. Does this mean they are full?”

“Fuck, yes,” you interrupt their horny conversation, ready to announce your plan. A plan that will surely distract you and them to the point all of you will have the best of fun. “After you’ve switched, how about you turn your butts towards me? You’re doing a fantastic job, I want to return the favor.”

They lock eyes, then look at you and nod. Sullyoon has this grin on her lips, as if she can’t wait for your fingers and tongue on her labia. Minju, again, might look quite abashed, but she is quicker than Sullyoon when it comes to showing you her behind. The sight of her bare ass, tiny pink pussy and thighs spilling out of black stockings has you drooling, almost neglecting Sullyoon’s equally remarkable offer.

Sadly, you only have one tongue and so you dive into Minju’s cunt first. In what has to be the most mind-melting moment in her life, the beautiful girl sucks in your addictive taste while for the first time, someone touches her virgin sex. Minju moans around your length while you lick all the way from her clit to her asshole in long quick swipes. You watch her body tremble and decide to put an arm around it so she doesn’t sway away from your mouth, which digs into her sensitive folds.

Speaking of sensitive folds, your other hand has found more of those. Sullyoon’s innie, beautifully smooth, spills wetness forth and guides you to the well-lubricated entrance. You don’t even have to see anything to slip your middle finger inside her. Sullyoon gasps and nuzzles her soft cheek against your balls, while a little bit higher, Minju has lost all shame.

“Yummy, yummy,” she babbles every half second when your cock leaves her mouth. The two of you seem to share the same thought: These perverted fluids are delicious, I better get as much as I can.

In your mutual delight, Sullyoon momentarily rips you out of it, just to make things even better. She bunches up Minju’s hair in a hand and starts to put her lips on Minju’s. Their tongues battle, luckily your tip is there to separate them, though it does not want peace: it wants all out war.

For this brilliant idea, you decide to switch and bury your face in Sullyoon’s ass then quickly move to her cunt and pierce it open with your wet muscle, the same muscle Minju’s twitching hole misses. She has to finish on your hand, so you decide to twirl her exposed clit in between your fingers.

The greatest trio in the world's most renowned orchestra could not compare to the harmonies your different moans produce. They are unfiltered, not played for a camera, not exaggerated—but still so loud, booming, climactic, when Sullyoon shutters. Her juices gush into your mouth, more when she leans back and presses her pussy on your face.

Minju follows quickly, almost sitting on and riding your hand as it lays there, fingers tapping upwards, against her nub. Her orgasm is not as wet, but you feel the bed shake when she cums and seemingly goes to another reality. You’re glad she physically stays, her tongue still eager at your slit—and Sullyoon is on the other side, making out with her and your cockhead.

You're incredibly hard, an iron-like rod, a tip that is purple and sensitive yet absolutely numb and only begging for what might as well be the best and final release. The thought of this ever happening again does not cross your mind, a void of nothing but pleasure. You have to give it your all now and so you buckle upwards in between their sandwiching lips and explode without warning.

“Fuuuck,” Sullyoon groans. Minju yelps, a high pitch as she still rides out her own orgasm on your palm. Your first is bombastic, a shot up in the air that rains down on their faces while the rest is equally distributed on their tender cheeks, silky lips, hot tongues. No need to mention that a lot ends up in places where the clean up will be more annoying: hair, bedsheets, even clothes have stains of white on them.

Who cares, really? Not Minju, who still laps up what leaks out of your aching, overstimulated cock. Not Sullyoon, who is out of breath and uses your thigh as a pillow. Certainly not you who literally passed out for a second and only returns because Minju sucks too strongly.

“Ouch, fuck, Min-Minju it hurts—”

“You tasht sho good, I want more.”

“Then, ahhh, get it from Sullyoon’s face, I-I don’t have anything anymore.”

Minju listens and obidies, unable to remember her shy nature when she sucks on Sullyoon’s skin to get all of your spunk off of her. Sullyoon is unfazed, mewling a bit before finding your gaze. She smirks and suddenly, the tip of her index finger touches your balls.

“You're lying,” she whispers. “You have at least one more in you.”

“I-I don’t think so.” Shake your head to emphasize your words, but Sullyoon emphasizes her belief more thoroughly by pumping from your base up. Slow strokes to keep the pressure in it, she makes sure to keep her mouth a literal breath away, a hot breath that takes your breath away. Your eyelids shutter.

“Are you sure he can keep going?” Minju cutely asks, the final remnants of cum she collected from Sullyoon’s forehead on her finger which she promptly puts in her mouth and cleans thoroughly. “I could really go for another.”

“Don’t you want him to take your virginity?” Sullyoon’s question somehow has the blush return to Minju’s ears, she turns around abashed. It’s unbelievable: a second ago, she was the biggest cumslut, now she is afraid of what feels like a logical next step if it weren’t for…

“We can’t, Sully,” you say and reach for both their heads and pat them. “Not going to do it if we don’t have condoms, and maybe we should take some time? This is all a bit—”

“Crazy?” Sullyoon climbs off the bed and searches through her backpack, to the confusion of both you and Minju. It takes her a while to find what she is looking for, so you enjoy seeing her ass in the squatting position. “Is it crazy that I have these?”

She throws you a pack of condoms. You blink.

“Is it crazy that I want you to take my virginity tonight?” Sullyoon sneaks back like a predator, adorable looking, dangerously feeling up your thigh to your once again hard length. You don’t let her have her way, grab her wrists and look at Minju.

“You are crazy. Look in whose bed we are! Minju, what do—”

“I-I’m fine with it!” Minju cups her cheeks and her gaze can’t fix on either your or Sullyoon’s face. “I can give you privacy, if you want.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sullyoon laughs. “You should join us. I’d let you go first, if you want.” She licks her lips and even with her arms being held down by you, she gets her flat tummy to rub on your manhood, close to her heat which you can no longer resist.

“I’ll get some water, you… do you.” Minju’s words are hastily spoken, her sentence finished when she is already out of the door. This settles it for you. You’re going to fuck Sullyoon; her first time is yours and the way she rips open the wrapping of the first condom leaves no doubt in your mind:

This girl loves you and wants you now.

“How do you want it?” you ask and roll the thin, barely-there rubber down your cock.

“I want you to push in me, push my body into the bed, slowly at first. Be careful until I tell you to go faster. Fuck me, hug me, do it so good and hard that I forget that there was ever a time where you didn’t love me.”

“Sounds—

Let go of her wrists and Sullyoon lets her amazing body fall into the cushions. Her lewd expression shifts; nervousness, only a little, seriousness, a little more—thrill, endless amounts of thrill. The same counts for you.

“—good. Spread your legs for me, Sullyoon. Breathe and relax.”

Those wonderful legs not only spread for you, they actually wrap around you, their smoothness suddenly suffocating and now it’s you who needs to breathe. Your cock slips into her so easily, your tip parts her, enters and if it weren’t for her wince you would’ve gone hilt deep right away. Sullyoon’s eagerness momentarily comes to a halt as she realizes that you are a bit different from her toys.

“Wow,” she mumbles mindlessly. “You’re so wide and hard and warm—nothing like a… a…”

“Like a dildo?” you tease her and gradually drag your tip along her walls and then out of the blissful heat. Her legs make sure to push you back in and now she is even tighter. Sullyoon wants you to stay, you can’t leave without your permission. “Tell me when it hurts.”

“Actually—”

Her digits find your nape and pull you down to where her lips pucker.

“—I want you to hammer your cock into me now. Mold my pussy in its shape. Hold back only if I say stop.”

“Got it.” Kiss her lips. “I love you, Sully.”

Sometimes, you need to let go and let the reckless abandon of lust take over your body. Your hips become a tool for pleasure, as they gyrate, then move back and forth to bury your length deeper in Sullyoon’s cunt. Then you copy and paste their movements and repeatedly do them with your tongue as well to the point your new girlfriend desperately clings to you. It’s not only the sweat that sticks to you; her entire being keeps you glued down.

You pump, pump, pump into Sullyoon until you notice her eyes rolling back into her head whenever you hit that spot. The sweet spot that will eventually make her cum. Good thing that you already blew a load and that all your sensitivity has subsided—it gives you the power that makes you feel like a superhero, a superhuman. You will not stop at anything, you want to make her cum with just your dick and so you have to fuck harder.

“Oh God, you’re so big, so fucking big and perfect,” Sullyoon moans. As a thank you, you place a hickey somewhere on her neck. In hindsight, a bad idea. All your classmates will see it, unless she wears turtlenecks from now on. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, you’re so good.”

“Your pussy, Sully, it’s, it’s so tight. You’re choking me.”

“Spread me open more then, fuck, fuck, I want you to make me full.”

Hidden from the world, you place a hand on Sullyoon’s abdomen. Not to touch that tummy that alone can make boys fall instantly, though it feels nice to rub your fingers across it—no, your goal is further down, right above where your cock pounds into that wet cunt. Talk about wet, Sullyoon’s juices have spread everywhere, Minju will smell her friend in this room for days to come.

And talk about Minju: she has just returned, a huge bottle of water in her hand and eyes wide open. There is no shock at the sight of Sullyoon moaning and bending under the never ending attack of your hands, tongue and of course cock. Minju is more fascinated than anything else, you know she could watch for hours if only you didn’t notice her.

“Oh, hey,” you gasp in between groans, but your greeting is cut short by Sullyoon’s deafening scream.

“Minju, Minju, oh fuck, you have to try this. He is so good~

“Yes! My clit, right there! Oh my God, I’m going to cum, you make me c-cum!”

Sullyoon pulsates throughout her pussy, her arms, her fingers. Those pointy nails of hers dig painful bruises in your back while your blurry gaze tries to make out her face in haze, but all you see is the shape of her mouth being agape. She’s suddenly so quiet, except for her pussy, which tries to start your own orgasm. You won’t give it to her, not when Minju stands there, her stocking-clad thighs rubbing together, visibly stained with her nectar.

“You guys…” she whispers and watches closely as you pull out of Sullyoon and wipe away some beads of sweat that have formed on your temple. You’re not a construction worker, but your work was hard and it paid off: Sullyoon could not be closer to heaven above the clouds, no skyscraper or airplane can take her there.

“Can I have some of that?” you weakly ask and point at the water bottle. You’re quick to squeeze out a huge portion when Minju hands you the plastic container. From the corner of your eye you see Sullyoon, back from her crazy trip and you offer her some of the water. She rejects and suddenly, full of energy, jumps up and behind Minju.

“Minju, you have to try it.” Minju shrieks when Sullyoon places her hands on the hourglass body. “He feels amazing, I know you will love it.” All her fingers carelessly drift down to where Minju’s full thighs spill out of hr black thigh-highs.

“B-but didn’t he, like, fi-finish in you? He must be exhausted.” Minju’s excuse is met with a scoff from Sullyoon.

“Look at that thing.” Sullyoon points in between your legs. That’s right, you’re still solid and throbbing, aching to go for more. “He is a stud, he can go forever. He will make you cum on your first time, Minju~”

“I-I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to listen to her,” you tell Minju and take another sip from the bottle. “We can do something else if you don’t feel ready yet.”

Your words might be honest, but Minju does not get a fair chance to consider this other option. In front of her sits her crush, a guy with a big, super tasty cock. Behind her is a friend, mind controlled by lust, eager to share this big, super tasty cock. The sight of you teases her, Sullyoon’s hands on her hips, butt, crotch tease her. Can she really go for it now? Make this crazy night become nothing but madness, a story worth telling but no one will ever hear it?

“I want… you inside of me.”

“Perf—”

“I want you to cum inside of me!”

You gulp, thoughts tripping over each other. Even Sullyoon is perplexed and frozen. “R-really?” you both ask the still-virgin girl.

“No, like, in-in a condom of course! I just want to know… that my pussy felt good for you, that I can make you cum. I don’t want to get pregnant yet of course—oh God, did you think that?”

“Well…”

“Doesn’t matter!” Sullyoon suddenly laughs this chaotic misunderstanding off and pushes Minju on your lap. “Here, Minju, put a new condom on his cock. We don’t do creampies, but I totally get what you want.”

“I’m so sorry, that was a stupid thing to say,” Minju apologizes awkwardly, but you quickly forget about it when she expertly puts the rubber on your tip and has your entire phallus covered in no time. Her dainty fingers feel fantastic on your base, which she holds steady, awaiting you to do something with it. You can’t make up your mind however: should you pick her up and throw her into the sheets to fuck her like Sullyoon? Maybe spin her around and fuck her doggy, ass up, that beautiful face buried in pillows as you burry yourself inside her for the first time?

Sullyoon helps you come up with a third solution. She grabs your wrists and firmly puts them on Minju’s tiny waist and instinctively, you lift her up and over your cock. Minju looks down at your manhood and mewls, ready yet not ready to take it. Her starlit eyes, a few centimeters away, look down into yours and you swear you don’t want to hurt. You have to do everything to make this the best thing for her.

Give Minju a firm kiss on her trembling lips as both you and Sullyoon gently place her entrance on your spear. At first, she is scared, her body tensing up, but with your warmth radiating on her warm folds, she suddenly seems eager. More and more inches disappear into her and you leave her lips to hear her ultimate moan when her virginity disappears.

“Ouh, so big, so much, ahhh!”

“Does it hurt?” you ask her.

“A-a bit, but it’s fine—Sullyoon, what are you doing!? Don’t look at it!”

Sullyoon kneels between your legs. When she breathes out through her nose, your balls feel her hot and horny breath. She completely ignores Minju’s words and stares at how you leave and re-enter Minju’s pussy. “Minju, this… this is the best sight! Trust me, it feels good when he goes faster. Your pussy will feel so good.”

“This is embarrassing,” Minju mewls again, her hips firmly pushed down on your lap, almost the entirety of your cock inside her. You might not feel powerless in this position, not at all in fact, but you want this absolute beauty of a woman to do how she likes it. If she just wants to sit on you and slowly move her lower body in circles, that’s fine, if she wants to ride you with heavy thrusts, that would be to die for—

But Minju unexpectedly picks a third option. Seriously, these girls are full of surprises. She puts her hands on your shoulders while yours instinctively hover down to her hips and then she tightens around your cock again before moving up and down, up and down, up and down with perfect body control, at the same pace.

Minju rides you, fucks you, like she has done it a thousand times. You can hardly believe she never had a toy inside her. Every breath becomes more chaotic, her features disheveled, her tongue numb. It hangs out of her mouth, a perfectly ripe weak spot for you to attack. You suck on it, bully it in your mouth and Minju grabs your throat, accidentally choking you. No, no, she has to keep doing that. She has to suffocate you, with her pussy, with her fingers, with her stunning visuals as she fucks herself silly.

“Sullyoon, fuck,” you both simultaneously curse when the forgotten girl starts to lick all the way from your perineum over to your cock and Minju’s folds to Minju’s butthole, then back down, as if it were the longest, tastiest lollipop. She is not irritated by all the sweat, the lewd juices and Minju’s ass bouncing on your dick—Sullyoon laps it all up and even giggles when she hears both of you struggle with the added pleasure.

Minju gradually loses speed, which is of course not bad, after all, her cunt still tries to suck your Sullyoon-kissed balls dry, but you notice how completely out of breath and overstimulated she seems. With unfocused puppy eyes she tries to apologize for her lack of stamina, but instead of lamenting, you find a quick solution—a solution that sends Minju straight into her first ever crazy orgasm.

Hock your arms underneath her legs, securely hold her and stand up. Sullyoon gasps in surprise, her tongue still in Minju’s ass, which suddenly shakes when you start to fuck. Minju screams in bliss, covers your crotch in girl cum as you lose your grip on reality but never your grip on her hips. Minju can barely hold onto your nape as you pound her and send orgasm after orgasm into her.

“Ahhh, oh my God, it’s, it’s coming again!”

She deserves so many more so you steady your feet and thrust upwards harder, faster, gape her cunt wide open, all for Sullyoon to see. She remembers that you speared her open in a similar way, your cock hard and reckless. She starts to touch herself while sucking on whatever part of your base isn’t currently inside Minju. In the meantime, Minju’s stockings burn themselves in your memory. She always has to wear them, they look so hot, seductive, like they were made to cover her legs.

“So big, too much, too much, I—”

Minju explodes again. This time her ability to speak is replaced by mindless moans, which sound a bit silly through her constantly cracking voice. You look down and admire the ripple of her thighs, the way her small tits bounce up and down. Her hot cunt feels ready for a load, a load it will not directly receive unfortunately.

Unfortunately? No, it’s good! You can’t risk getting Minju pregnant, that would be insane.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you groan.

“Let me help you~” Sullyoon’s lewd voice and even lewder lips push you over the edge as she puts your balls in her mouth and sucks on them loudly. The added pressure makes you unload into the condom, testing its durability. Luckily it passes the test and Minju still gets to have that feeling of hotness inside her.

She smiles weakly, but cannot really react. Her body goes limp in your arms as you slip out of her wide open hole. You carefully drop her onto the bed, a bed that you definitely need too now. Soft sheets to finally rest in after this night of projects and—other projects so to say.

“Fuck that was insane. What’s going to happen now?” you ask no one in particular. Minju is already gone, deep in a dream.

“What do you think?” Sullyoon suddenly says and lays next to you in bed, her fingers pulling away the condom. When she sees the ridiculous amount of cum still covering your dick, she is quick to clean it up with her tongue. It seems that she is just as addicted to your taste as Minju.

“Fuck, Sully—”

“We have to do this every week.”

“Wh-what?”

“Aren’t we your girlfriends now? Don’t you want this—

“To happen again~?”

Yes, they are your girlfriends now—and yes: you have fallen for them.

Who could blame you?

[aemondtargaryengf]

22:23 [y.jh]

fluff. domesticity (?). slightly suggestive cause they make out and stuff. no pronouns used. word count: 1.4k.

a/n: alright this is my first time writing ever and I would love your honest opinion on this fic. criticism is much appreciated. tell me where I can work and be better. and if you liked it do let me know!!

"this is an announcement for flight 246 to Nice-" thump. putting down the suitcase on the floor, you try to look for a sign pointing towards the exit gate. "sorry. excuse me. entschuldigung." stumbling through the crowd you finally make your way out the gates of berlin brandenburg airport.

it's 9:00 pm now, your flight was supposed to reach at 6 in the evening. you were supposed to be in the hotel lobby by 7:30 waiting for your lover's return from the ysl fashion show. you were supposed to give him the best surprise but of course the universe had other plans.

five weeks. five excruciating weeks of you both not being able to see each other. he was busy with his comeback and touring in japan while you worked overtime at your office and were called for an impromptu work trip.

only so much love can be conveyed through good morning texts and tri-weekly video calls, you longed to be in his arms again, to run your fingers through his hair, to kiss him senseless.

in the next few minutes, you managed to get a taxi, explain to the driver where you were headed and ask for jeonghan's room number from seungkwan. the berlin cityscape soon came into view. loud honks, streams of people crossing the roads at a time and bright lights of the shops reflecting on the wet asphalt. all that noise might have irritated someone who was on a flight for over thirteen hours but the only thing on your mind was jeonghan. your hannie.

you were only a few minutes away from the hotel when you noticed a little flower shop. jeonghan always returned from a trip with flowers in hand to surprise you. flowers for my prettiest flower. he would lean in and steal a kiss, a light chuckle falling from his lips when he saw the astonished look on your face. it was only fair to return the favour this time round.

asking the driver to stop the car, you paid the fare and jogged towards the flower shop. it seemed as if the storm due to which your flight got delayed wasn’t enough because it started drizzling again.

the chime of a small bell signalled your presence, the florist busy fluffing out the hydrangeas looked up from the counter, "how may I help you?" "a small bouquet of your freshest flowers please", you asked with a smile. the florist gave you a small smile and made her way to the countertop where many flowers were spread out. gathering a few white roses in his hands he asked you, "will these do?" white always looks good on hannie. "yes please." 

after paying the required amount you made your way through the drizzling rain to the hotel. your clothes and hair damp and you were certain that you'd be met with a slight headache the coming morning because of it. 

the hotel gate soon came into view, your luggage trolley rolling beside you as you entered the lobby. "hi! there should be a reservation for a room under the name ms. y/n l/n." the receptionist quickly completed the formalities and gave you your key. you knew you would be spending the night with jeonghan but taking these precautionary steps were necessary to a) not jeopardise his career and b) surprise him without any hiccups in the way.

you got into the elevator and pressed the button to your floor. quickly walking to your room, you opened the door and pushed your luggage inside hastily. not even caring to put it out of the doorway. you brushed your hair and fixed up your makeup in an attempt to look more presentable before making your way next door. thankfully the room right next to jeonghan was free and you booked it without any second thoughts.

the watch on your wrist read 10:20. the sky had cleared up and the moon was out, insects chirped in the cool humid night. yes it was late but you hoped jeonghan hadn't gone to bed yet. 

knock knock knock.

"mr. yoon?" you called out, waiting for his response. then again he did have quite an eventful day so maybe he was tired and went to bed early- 

a faint sound of him uttering "coming" was heard and you couldn't keep the smile off of your face and the door flew open just a second later.

there he was in all his barefaced glory. your jeonghan. his eyes almost popped out his sockets the moment his brain registered that it was you who was standing in front of him and before he could ask any questions, you jumped, wrapping your arms around him with bouquet in hand, hugging him with all your might, careful to not smush the flowers.

the watch read 10:23 when you were in his arms.

"i missed you so much hannie." your voice was muffled due to your face being planted on his chest. "what are you doing here?" was all he could come up with. his heart still refusing to believe that it is you in flesh standing in front of him, hugging him, and not just his mind trying to play tricks on him.

"i was done with work quicker than expected and took a week off just so I could come see you" unwrapping yourself from him, you presented him with the white roses. "surprise love!!" 

jeonghan looked at the bouquet and then back at you. and all he wanted to do at that moment was to kiss you. so he did. bringing one of his hands behind your neck, he leaned in. your faces so close you could feel his breath on your lips. "you're the best thing that ever happened to me, did you know that?" he whispered before smashing your lips together.

his lips, soft and supple, greedily moving against yours. pouring all his pent up love, longing and frustration into your mouth as if it is the first and last time he is kissing you. hot chocolate. that's what he tasted like.

he pulled you into the room. one hand on your neck and the other on your waist. "jeonghan" you whimpered his name against his lips, shutting the door with your foot. one hand still holding the bouquet and the other tangled in his silky hair. you wanted more of him. you always do. but before you could he pulled away, noticing the flowers that you still held and taking them from you.

"the flowers look beautiful my darling" he put them on the countertop. finally looking at you as you stood a few feet away from him, taking you in fully. "you're wet" he noticed your damp hair and clothes. "it was raining when I walked to the hotel after buying the roses. it's only a few drops, don't mind me." you said with a small smile.

jeonghan ever the worrier wasted no time in fussing over you. "why would you get off the cab in pouring rain just to buy me flowers? you know you get sick easily" he takes off your blazer, hanging it to air dry. "now take off your clothes". 

fingers fiddling with the button on your shirt you said with a smirk on your face "mr yoon if you wanted me naked you could've just said so" an exasperated sigh leaves his mouth "you know I didn't mean it like…but now that you say it" he brings a towel from the bathroom, drying your hair gently and helping you shed off your shirt. "I am not that opposed to it" he hums while planting a kiss on your neck. "that tickles" you throw your head back giggling.

you lost your pants mere seconds after that, jeonghan putting your outside clothes into the laundry bag,"come on, let's get you bathed and into my shirt. I'll order you some soup later."

you walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. his warm hands automatically finding their place on your naked waist. you leaned up and peered at him innocently through your eyelashes, just admiring his face. you reached up his ear and whispered cheekily "only if you care to join me."

he groaned out, "I clearly didn't miss you being such a tease." to which you only replied with a smile. picking up the towel you walked backwards to the bathroom "alright then i'll be getting the shower ready" and winked at him before disappearing from his sight.

all jeonghan did was thank his lucky stars that he had you in his life before making his way to the bathroom, "oh you are so in for it."

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

Adding in to the Xavier and Erik thing, could we get a Drabble of them together? What if the reader argues with them in the middle of the night?

BIRDCAGE.

Synopsis. You couldn't have friends, you couldn't go out, you couldn't break the routines, you couldn't use your powers... So, what were you supposed to do?! Why did they have to hold you like that, as if you were a danger? Why did they keep you in that prison of rules, not letting you be who you really are? Didn't you deserve more than being under their control, living in fear of doing what you truly wanted?

pairing ── Yandere Charles Xavier x Raven!reader x Yandere! Erik Lehnsherr (Platonic Fic)

Content. MDNI ── Dark themes, violence, mention of death, teenage reader (14-15), quick mention of Quicksilver, discussion, blood, insolation, invasion of privacy, delusion, Angst, ¿OOC Xavier and Magneto? Idk, fight, Disturbing Content, Unhealthy Obsession, Gaslight, Mental Illness, mind invasion, inappropriate use of powers, mention of Trigon, Corruption, Isolation, Paranoia, Manipulation.

A/N ── English is not my first language—Spanish — I'm not sure if this counts as a drabble, but it's pretty short. I hope this is something like what you were expecting. It took me a while to finish because I was in Paris, hehe.

You walked quickly and silently, the sound of your footsteps barely interrupted by the night wind that caressed your face. The Arcade, with its flickering lights and distant laughter, was already behind you, but the feeling of the evening lingered like an echo, a scrap of joy that you couldn't let go. Quicksilver, or Pietro, your friend, the only one they had allowed you to have, had been by your side the entire time, a constant presence amid the bright lights and deep shadows of the amusement park. It had been an out-of-place evening, one you had never imagined enjoying.

The watch on your wrist, already turned off for hours, displayed a time that didn't match reality. The wind had begun to cool, and the streetlights, those that had always accompanied you on your lonely nights, seemed an unnecessary reminder that something had been lost. You had forgotten the time. You had forgotten that at this hour, your guardians, those you could never call parents, were waiting at home, in that stillness that so often suffocated you. The bedtime story, that ritual of which you never felt a part, should have already faded in their voices. But no. Anxiety remained, the hurried pace evident in every gesture they made to calm you down. There was no time left. And you knew it.

"I must go back," you thought, and for a moment, you wished the sky would open up, that time could stop.

Upon arriving home, you slid the door open with the same caution that had accompanied you for the past few years, as if every noise, every misstep, could awaken the accumulated fury on the faces of those you considered your guardians and active parental figures. The house was silent, a heavy silence that foreshadowed something bad. The living room, once a refuge of calm, now seemed a trap of unresolved tensions.

As you passed in front of the open door of the living room, you saw them. Erik, in the center of the room, was tense, as if every muscle in his body was on the brink of exploding. His face, so familiar for its hardness, was marked by a fierce expression, a repressed rage that needed no words to be understood. You felt a knot in your stomach. It was the anger he usually reserved for those who dared to challenge him. "Where have you been?" his voice came out raspy, laden with frustration but retaining the authority that characterized him.

Beside him, Charles Xavier, the other pillar of your life, was leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the floor as if avoiding facing you. Disappointment emanated from his presence like an invisible weight, much heavier than Erik's fury. "Little one..." he said softly, but that softness only made his reproach feel deeper, like an abyss. "Do you know what time it is?"

You didn't respond immediately. Guilt flooded you, but you hurried to keep your facade intact, the same control you always tried to impose on your surroundings. It was too late for explanations. Only the weight of your decisions remained, the glow of the Arcade lights still in your eyes, and the feeling that, for once, the night you had unexpectedly enjoyed was crumbling in its safest place.

The tension in the room grew, palpable like a dense fog. You took a deep breath, your eyes fixed on Erik, who had already begun to pace back and forth, his fury hard to contain. "I'm not a child, and you have no right to treat me as such!" you exclaimed, your voice louder than you intended, but the rage contained the words. "I want freedom! I want to decide what I do with my life! I don't need you to protect me all the time!"

Erik shot you a piercing look, the magnetism around him vibrating strongly. "You are still a child. And until you can understand the gravity of your decisions, I will treat you as such. And that includes not seeing Pietro," he said, his tone sharp and final. "If you dare to see him again, I will ensure you never set foot outside this house again and that he loses what he so enjoys boasting about."

You felt a chill run down your spine, but the fury did not leave you. "You are not my father! No one has the right to decide for me!"

Charles Xavier, until that moment silent, let out a sigh of disappointment. "It's for your own good, little girl," he said, the softness of his voice only aggravating the feeling of helplessness. "You will not leave this house until further notice. You need time to reflect on your bad actions and learn to control your temper towards your parents." His words, filled with a paternal but distant love, caused a deep pain in you.

You couldn't take it anymore. Rage overwhelmed you, and your powers manifested uncontrollably. Shadows began to crawl from the corners of the room, rising like dark tendrils towards the walls. "You will not confine me! You will not control me!" you shouted, the shadows wrapping around your hands as you manipulated them in an attempt to express your frustration.

Erik did not hesitate, extending his arm and manipulating the nearby metal, ready to stop you. Charles, however, only looked at you with sadness, knowing that this confrontation was just the beginning of a larger battle between them.

The room was engulfed in chaos, the shadows swirling around you like furious serpents, as your powers spiraled out of control. Erik, tense and ready to act, watched cautiously, but it was Charles who acted, with a grave, almost sad expression. He didn't want to do it, but he knew there was no other option.

"Little Raven," he said calmly, his voice overflowing with unyielding authority. "You must understand that we are not trying to control you, only to protect you. You know what happens when you let those emotions take control."

You looked at him with eyes filled with rage, your breathing heavy. You didn't want to listen, you didn't want to yield. And yet, Charles' presence in your mind began to grow, like a dense fog surrounding you.

"Don't you dare invade my mind!" you screamed, but it was too late. His eyes briefly shone with a purple flash, and in that instant, Charles took advantage of his ability to penetrate your consciousness.

Images of your progenitor overwhelmed you, rapid and overwhelming. Your father, the ancient demon, his grotesque face and infernal eyes filled your mind with palpable horror. The screams, the voices of pain, the images of destruction and chaos took over your thoughts. The fear you had always kept in check overflowed like a torrent. The abyss he represented seemed so close, so real, that you felt an unbearable pressure in your chest.

"Stop!" you screamed in horror, your knees buckling as you fell to the floor, struggling to free yourself from the images that tormented you. "I don't want to see it! I don't want to feel it!"

Charles, with his mind still anchored in yours, maintained the contact, his tone now softer but firm. "What he can do, what he has done to you, is part of what you must control. We are here to help you not become like him. And we will not allow anyone to interfere."

The shadows in the room slowly dissipated, but the echo of the visions continued to resonate in your mind. Your eyes, now glassy, reflected the internal struggle you could not win.

Erik approached, watching his adopted daughter with a mix of concern and disgust. "We did it for your own good, child. So you understand what is at stake."

But Erik's words barely penetrated your pain-clouded mind. You couldn't stop seeing Trigon's eyes, that gaze so filled with power and destruction.

You fell to the ground, your legs giving way under the weight of the visions still flooding your mind. The air around you seemed to thicken, and the pressure in your chest left you breathless. Your pale face reflected the terror you had just experienced, with eyes wide open and empty, unable to process what you had just seen.

It was Erik who, in a swift and firm motion, lifted you into his arms, the physical contact of his imposing figure and the magnetic energy of his presence sending a strange vibration through your young body. The weight of his gaze left no room for doubt: he was in control.

"Calm down, daughter," Erik murmured in a grave voice, a whisper that contrasted with his usual demeanor. But there was something unsettling in his tone, a softness that sounded like a veiled threat. "We love you, little Raven. We always have."

Charles Xavier's voice joined the scene, his tone soft and controlled, but his words filled with a weight he could not disguise. "It's time to sleep, little one. It's time for the bedtime story... It's what you need, what we have always done for you."

Erik carried you to the living room, where the low lights and tranquil atmosphere offered a false sense of peace. The two men settled you on the couch, and as Charles approached you, the shadow of his telepathic power floated over the room like an invisible fog.

"Sleep now, dear. The story is about to begin," Charles whispered as Erik sat beside you, his hand resting on your shoulder with a firmness you could not reject. They both watched you with such immense attention, so intensely protective, that you couldn't help but feel trapped in an invisible web, with no way out.

The light flickered slightly, as if the place itself shared a collective fear, and although calm seemed to envelop you, you couldn't stop thinking about the echoes of your own fear. In what had been done to make you forget.

[havecourage-darling]

Right Side Up // 1

Princess Peach Series

|| Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter two: If I only could >>

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Henderson!Reader

wc: ~5.8k

warnings: cursing, mild smut, S4 spoilers, angst with a happy ending

A/N: Hello everyone! So, here she iiiiis - I've had a lot of people ask if I'd be writing a S4 follow along and ta-da! (There should be 6 chapters total.) I'm keeping it in the Princess Peach world, meaning the reader is a Henderson. If you have not read any of the other installments in this series, I personally think you'd still enjoy this but you might be a little confused. Being totally up front, this is absolutely a fix-it fic, Eddie did not die and I have no idea what you're talking about canon, okay cool. Now that we're all on the same paaage...

Chapter One: If I only could

“Are you the prettiest baby in the whole world?” You asked the wide brown-eyed stare focused on you. “Who’s the bestest boy? Oh, yes, it’s you!”

“If you keep that up, I’m going to get jealous,” Eddie said from his trailer door. You ignored him and Frank – Eddie’s neighbor’s dog who stayed over occasionally – went belly up. His muzzle was now littered with white hair but his waggling tail and endearingly excited pants made your heart melt.

“Oh, you’re so handsome, what a good boy,” you cooed, fingers scratching at his pink stomach. One of his little legs twitched happily as your nails caught the right spot.

Eddie’s mouth twisted into something achingly familiar and his eyes glinted. “That’s what you say to me when you lick my-”

“Edward!”

A flash of your events this morning crossed your mind and Eddie smirked. “And I’m the pervert?” He said knowingly.

You shot him a glare, one that he knew you meant: behave.

Eddie’s laughter floated over to you and you rolled your eyes, pulling Frank into your lap. You laid down, sprawled onto a blanket that you kept in Eddie’s van, and bathed in the first warm sunny day in a while. The wind still had a bite to it at night but the afternoon sun was just enough to lull you into a nap.

“So,” Eddie said, settling down next to you, with two glasses of water. You gratefully took one and drank half in one go. “Spring break is soon.”

And it couldn’t come soon enough. You’d been swamped with papers and last-minute homework assignments for the entire week. Submitting your last paper tonight would be the last thing you’d have to do before being blissfully worry free for the entire week to come.

“Thank God,” you muttered, “I don’t want to look at a goddamn economics book again.”

No matter how much Sienna promised you that you’d eventually get it – econ was something dragged up from the seventh layer of hell.

“Spring break is only a week sweetheart. You’ve still got half a semester to go.”

“Never. Again,” you said, pushing out your bottom lip. As predicted, Eddie swooped in and kissed you. Smiling into it, he kissed you once more before leaning back. His hand came down to rub Frank’s velvety ear.

“So, how about we go somewhere for our anniversary?”

“This far in advance?” You asked, looking up at him and shrugging. “I guess we could make reservations for September now.”

“What?” Eddie blinked at you, confused. “Our six-month anniversary, Peach.”

The warm breeze hit the trees behind you, the leaves creating a glittering cascade of sunbeams as they shook. Eddie’s hair fluttered over his shoulders and you got the urge to curl a finger around a strand.

“Next week?” You asked, attention coming back to him. “Do you want to do something special?”

“Well, you just seem so excited,” Eddie said, pretending to be hurt.

Laughing, you leaned forward to kiss his cheek in mock apology. “I’m so sorry, wonderful boyfriend of mine, of course I’d like to do something with you.”

“That sounded better but you could still work on the delivery,” Eddie retorted, “it sounded a little sarcastic.”

Raising a brow, Eddie tried to fight his smile but you saw it anyway. “What are we doing?”

“More like where are we going?”

Perking up, you placed Frank onto the ground between you and crossed your legs. “Eddie.”

“Princess,” he said, his goddamn smug smile making your stomach flip in excitement.

Plucking some of the blades of grass from the ground you chucked them at him. “Where are we going?”

Eddie shot you a look as he pulled them out of his hair. “Gareth’s uncle has a cabin in the woods a few towns over, by that big lake,” Eddie snapped his fingers as if he’d forgotten the name.

“Lake Monroe?” You squeaked, having always wanted to go there. Nancy and Mike had gone like four summers ago and it was beautiful. She swore you’d love it, the hiking trails looked amazing.

“That’s the one,” Eddie smiled at your excited bounces, “his uncle is loaded and has some big house by the lake. It’s got like three floors and a pool.”

Holy shit, you don’t think you’d ever been in a house that big.

“Eddie, don’t mess with me,” you said, pressing your hands together.

“I would never sweetheart,” he said, leaning in for a kiss. “Gareth says he’s in Europe or something for work. I already talked to Keith and for a very humble exchange he agreed to give you Sunday through Thursday off.”

What? Eddie had talked to Keith for you? Shit – sometimes even you were afraid of Keith and you were probably his favorite. Well…his least hated.

“You braved Keith for me?” You asked, touched.

Eddie snorted. “Once I showed him how much I was willing to bargain for, he accepted pretty easily,” he said.

“Still,” you insisted, he’d been planning this for some time if everything seemed set in stone. “I can’t believe you did that for me.”

“What can I say?” Eddie said, buffing his nails and grinning at you. “I’ll do anything for my warrior princess.”

“My hero,” you swooned, throwing your arms around him and squeaking when he fell onto his back, “if this is what you’re planning for six months, what’s a year going to look like?”

“I’ll get you a flight to the moon,” Eddie joked. “Fleetwood Mac will be there with some pizza ready for a private concert.”

“Would we be alone?” You asked, realizing you weren’t sure if any of your friends were invited.

“On the moon? I’d hope so.”

You smacked his shoulder. “At the lake, dork.”

Eddie’s brows wiggled. “Can’t wait to have your way with me huh? Don’t worry, the house is on directly on the lake and the nearest neighbors are like three miles down the road. You can scream all you want and no one will hear us,” he said, nipping at the underside of your jaw.

“That’s not what I meant,” you said, pinching his side.

He jumped and shot you a glare. “Why is it always violence with you?”

“You love it,” you said, squeezing his shoulder three times – the words left unsaid. Eddie’s playful glare softened into something familiar, something he’d shown you since the first month you’d started dating. Sometimes you thought you’d explode with how much you loved him. The way your heart sped up when you were with him was ridiculous and probably unhealthy.

Eddie’s eyes trailed down your face, his hand coming up from your waist to cradle your cheek. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip and you nipped at the pad. His eyes darkened and you saw the words reflected back at you. Heart singing, you let him pull you down into a slow kiss.

“Yeah,” he said, lips tracing what he couldn’t say onto your skin, “I do.”

This was the first and last time you offered to swap early morning shifts with Keith. You groaned as you started sorting through the returns.

“Remind me why we said yes to a Thursday morning shift?” You called out to Steve, who was half asleep next to the computer.

Well, you knew Keith had you where he wanted you – at his beck and call until your last shift on Saturday. He’d been sure to let you know he’d graciously allowed the time off on short notice because of your strong work ethic. Robin had laughed so hard he’d heard from his office.

“Because we’re money hungry, Keith sucks, and Robin has school,” he groaned, rubbing sleep from one of his eyes. “I will give you all the money from my next paycheck if you go across the street and get us coffees.”

You snorted so hard you almost choked. “Tough sell Harrington. You’re closer to the door.”

“You’re the better person,” Steve huffed.

“I am,” you agreed, laughing when he shot you a look. “Uh, Steve?”

“What?” He said, voice muffled as he hid his face into his elbow.

“Is that cheerleader walking towards us Chrissy Cunningham or am I hallucinating without the caffeine in my bloodstream?”

Steve sat up, squinted, and turned towards the windows. “Oh shit, it is.”

“Fuck, do you see Carver around? He’s just like fucking Tommy,” you hissed, hating the little spark of panic you felt in your stomach. It was too early to start a fight.

“No, she’s alone, oh shit – she’s really coming this way,” Steve said scrambling up and trying to look like you both weren’t just gawking at her.

The bell above the door rang as she pushed it open, a bright smile erupting on her face. Her eyes were wide and you couldn’t help but smile back at her.

“Hi,” you said stupidly.

“Hi! Good morning!” She grinned, waving at a stunned Steve. You kicked him under the counter and he grunted.

“Hey,” he said. You shot him a look – smooth, Harrington.

“Can I help you find something?” You asked, a little thrown by her sunshine energy. Something…felt off about her. Trying your best to look nonchalant, you took in her jittering leg and wringing hands.

Chrissy’s face turned a fascinating beet red and you glanced at Steve who shrugged. “Um, I was actually looking for Eddie,” she mumbled, eyes widening even further.

“Oh,” you blinked, “well, um, he’s not here? He’s probably just waking up to be honest. He doesn’t really hang around here during the mornings. I haven’t seen him since yesterday afternoon.”

Her eyes shifted and you felt a surge of possessiveness.

“He’s my boyfriend so, if you’re here to set up some prank I can assure you that I won’t take kindly to it. I’m not someone you want to piss off either.” You felt Steve come up behind you, his foot nudging yours.

Chrissy’s eyes jerked up to yours and she shook her head earnestly. “I wouldn’t do that, I swear!” She turned her eyes to Steve and he nudged you again. “Really, I promise.”

And for some reason – you believed her.

“Oh, well, he’s um…not here,” you finished lamely. Chrissy scuffed her shoe on the carpet and you winced as an awkward silence settled. Steve cleared his throat after a beat and Chrissy jumped as if she’d been poked. Why did she look so spooked? You glanced at the doors, looking for anyone waiting for her. If you hadn’t been so thrown off, you’d say she looked…scared.

Her eyes darted around the store nervously. “He talks about you a lot, you know? I’ve seen you at the movies with him. You both make a cute couple,” she said, expression shifting to something soft.

“Oh,” you said, scratching at the back of your neck, “thank you.” What the hell did you say to something like that?

She leaned in closely, eyes anxiously on Steve. “I’m, um, looking to buy,” she whispered. You bit back a laugh, not wanting to come off rude but you doubted that Chrissy knew how to even roll a joint. Shit, you barely knew how to roll one.

“I don’t help Eddie out with that side of his business,” you said and you didn’t. Eddie was trying to save up as much as he could for a new apartment, one you had an inkling he was going to ask you to move into eventually. Which, was probably why he was taking so long to save.

You knew he felt embarrassed at being known as the local drug dealer no matter how many times you assured him otherwise. He was waiting for graduation to find a better job - you thought he’d like the record store downtown. Either way, Eddie rarely let you come with him to deliver and even less to stock up again.

“He actually had a gig a town over so that’s probably why you haven’t seen him,” you said. “I’ll tell him to keep an eye out for you. He’ll bring you what he has tomorrow.”

“Thank you so much,” she said, looking desperate and relieved. With another curious glance, you realized that she actually screamed of exhaustion, like she hadn’t slept in weeks.  

“Are you okay?” You asked her, throwing it out there. Chrissy looked startled and she, once again, looked nervously around the store.

“Yeah, totally, I just really need something,” she said, cheeks pink. “Thank you for helping.”

Before you could say anything else, she all but ran out the doors.

“Well, that was weird,” you said after a beat of silence.

Steve laughed, dropping his head back into his arms. “Everyone gets stressed in the last final months before graduation,” he said, eyes closing, “you almost choked me out when I spilled my soda over your textbook.”

“I had a final the next day!”

“I barely got the cover wet!” He retorted.

You rolled your eyes and chucked a paperclip at his head. “The cover is important too!”

The man in question barged in a few hours later, five minutes before your shift ended.

“Lady Henderson,” he called out, smile wide and eyes bright. You grinned, shifting your body towards him and taking in his outfit. He’d worn his favorite black Metallica t-shirt – the one with the tear in the collar - and your smile widened when the memory of Eddie ripping it as he tore it off you a few weeks ago flashed across your memory.

The mischievous glint in his eyes as he kissed your cheek said he knew what you were thinking of.

“Hello,” you said, grabbing his chin and kissing him properly. He made a happy noise that you wanted to sink into and almost jumped when Steve’s groan echoed in the empty store.

“Every time! Do you need to rub salt into the wound guys?” Steve said, huffing. He’d been conned by Robin into staying with her until closing and was cranky about it. Robin, however, looked like she’d won a gold medal.

“Hey Munson,” Robin said, coming out the back with a stack of tapes.

“Lady Buckley,” he greeted, bowing.

Without preamble, you’d grabbed your bag and sweater, already ducking under the counter. “See you guys on Saturday!” You called out, not having a shift tomorrow since you normally had class.

This time, however, Eddie wanted to take you to your favorite Italian restaurant two towns over to celebrate the beginning of spring break and your road trip up. He’d made the reservations earlier yesterday and you could practically taste the garlic bread already.

Intertwining his fingers with yours, Eddie brought your hand up to his lips. “I missed you,” he said.

“I missed you too,” you said, pushing the door open and pulling him towards his van. “Did you tell Wayne about our trip?”

“Yeah,” he said, rolling his eyes and flushing a little. “He loaned me his duffel to take with me.”

“That’s nice?” You said, not sure why he was turning red.

“He’d packed about a month’s worth of condoms,” Eddie said, huffing.

You froze, stopping in front of the van. His eyes were firmly on the door in front of you and you threw your head back in laughter.

“I don’t know why you find this so funny. It’s weird when your family knows you’ve having sex,” Eddie grumbled, opening your door for you and herding you in. You were still chuckling when he hopped in on the other side. “Princess, please.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, hiding behind your hand. “It’s just – so funny how much you hate it.”

“I’m glad my pain brings you pleasure,” he said, smiling. Eddie threw the van into reverse and pulled out the parking lot. The radio blared to life, surprising you, and you turned the volume down a little.

“You know, considering how much you can’t keep it in your pants we’ll probably go through them before we’re back,” you said, batting your eyelashes at him, never one to skip the chance to tease him, “especially considering the bathing suit I’m bringing with me.”

Eddie groaned and you knew that he was picturing you in the suit you’d shown him earlier in the week.

“I remember being worried that if I didn’t tie it hard enough the top slips off,” you said, tapping your chin, “since we’ll be alone it doesn’t seem like that’ll be problem. Right, sweetheart?”

“Princess, I’m driving,” he said, shifting himself.

“You’re too easy,” you smiled, tucking a leg under you.

Shooting you a glare, he sighed. “What movie did you get for us this time?” He asked, voice still a little strained.

“Since your pick last week was horrible, I went for a classic.”

“Not Splash again,” Eddie sighed.

“Hey, it’s dealer’s choice – no complaining! I sat through a Nightmare on Elm Street for you.”

“At least let me grab some beer so I can get through it,” he said.

“Deal,” you said, bumping his fist.

After a pitstop for beer and pizza, you were snuggled into the sofa in a pair of shorts and Eddie’s Hellfire t-shirt within the hour. Pressing play, you watched as Tom Hanks followed Daryl Hannah.

“You know, The Breakfast Club wasn’t as bad as this – and that’s saying something,” Eddie complained, dropping into the couch next to you.

“Ah, ah, no commentary please. Besides, you like romantic comedies!” You said as Eddie pulled your legs onto his lap.

Eddie shot you a look. “I am a man of many genres-” you snorted and he ignored you, “- I simply don’t like this one.”

“Well tough luck,” you said, sinking further into the cushions. You could feel Eddie’s eyes on you as Daryl observed the televisions curiously. “You’re not watching the movie.”

“You’re more interesting,” he said, “did you know that you mouth along to some of the lines?”

“I do not,” you huffed, poking him with your foot. His hand caught your ankle, his fingers dancing across the delicate skin making you tense up. “I know what you’re doing.”

“I’m not doing anything,” he said, innocently glancing up at you.

Yeah, okay, you snorted. “We’re not even halfway through the movie,” you groaned. Eddie’s hand drifted higher towards your bare thigh. “Eddie.”

“Hmm?” He said, pressing a kiss to your knee. A jolt of electricity that always hit you whenever Eddie was around shot through you.

You resisted for a few more minutes, his lips traveling up to your shoulder. While your attention had been slipping, you’d only closed your eyes when he bit down onto the sensitive patch of skin at the base of your neck. “I hate you,” you breathed, your voice hitching when he nudged you onto your back.

“Sure seems like it,” he teased, hair curtaining around you. Legs falling open, as if by habit, Eddie grinned as he settled between them. “Absolutely loathe me, do you?”

“You’re unbearable, you know that? Next week I’m seducing you two seconds into your movie.”

Eddie chuckled into your skin, the rumble of his chest travelling into your own. “Feel free to feel me up whenever you want, princess. I promise you; I won’t fight it.”

“Shut up,” you said, patience snapping. Lifting your hips to press against his, he hissed at the pressure. Before he could say something smug and full of himself, you fisted his hair and brought him down to you. Lips clashing together, you wrapped your legs around his hips and kept him close. Swallowing one of his groans, you tugged on his hair lightly and Eddie froze.

“I feel like the situation has managed to run away from me,” he panted, jumping when you palmed him through his pajamas. “Sweetheart, if you keep doing that this is going to end before the fun really begins.”

Huffing a laugh, you let your hand drift up higher to his side and Eddie’s eyes screwed shut as you bit down onto his neck. “Your sorcery won’t get the best of me,” he said shakily.

“Won’t it?” You smirked, lapping at bite. With a grunt, Eddie managed to capture both your wrists and press them above your head. He grinned, stupidly excited to have caught you off guard, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. Keeping your arms up, despite his loose hold, you let him take the upper hand.

Daryl, on the television, cried and you caught a flash of blonde that reminded you of something.

"Oh,” you said, Chrissy’s face swimming to the front of your mind. “Cunningham was looking for you." You squirmed as he sucked what would no doubt be a very visible hickey onto your neck.

“Who?” Eddie asked, uninterested, as he focused on nipping your skin. He dropped your wrists to ruck your shirt up above your chest. His hand quickly unhooked your bra, pulling it up, and his warm hand had your breath hitching as he trailed light touches across your bare skin.

“Cheerleader,” you breathed when he licked at the valley between your breasts, hands kneading your skin.

“There’s a lot of them.”

You sighed as his teeth scraped across a particularly sensitive spot. “Blonde, short, bubbly.”

Eddie huffed, breath fanning over your skin and your skin erupted in goosebumps. “Princess, that’s half the squad.”

You sighed, pulling back from his grasp. “She’s Jason’s girlfriend? I think.”

“Sure?” He said, "I'm trying to seduce you over here and you're talking about cheerleaders."

“Don't worry sweetheart, Jason's not my type,” you joked.

Eddie nipped at the swell of your breast in retaliation. "Please don't say another dude's name while we're naked together. I'm sensitive."

"Bossy, bossy," you said, shoving him over so that you were on top. Eddie's arms came to rest behind the back of his head and he grinned at the view. You trailed a hand down his chest, stilling above his buckle. "Look, just..."

Sensing your shifting mood, he propped himself up on his arms and ducked to catch your eyes. "What? What's wrong?"

“She looked desperate, scared? I don't know," you said, trying to remember her expression. "Just - could you make sure she is…okay? Before selling her anything.”

“Yeah, I’ll take a look,” he assured you, "don't worry."

“Yeah? Thank you," you kissed him, relishing in his immediate reciprocation.

“Can I go back to what I was doing now?” He asked, eyes dropping back to your chest.

Pretending to consider the situation for a beat, you nodded. “Proceed.” Without waiting, you laughed when he surged up and suctioned himself to you.

“Hold on, let me take this off,” you said, starting to pull his shirt over your head.

Eddie’s hand on yours made you go still. “Wait, can you keep it on?” He asked, pupils blown.

You glanced down at his club t-shirt and grinned. “You want to remember this every time you wear it, don’t you?”

“Am I that easy to read?” He asked, shameless.

Kissing him deeply, you smiled into it. “To me? Yeah.” You pulled your bra out from the sleeves and tossed it onto the floor.  

Eddie grinned, ecstatic at your answer, and leaned over the back of the couch to break open the new box of condoms. You let out a surprised burst of laughter and Eddie quirked his brow. “Wanna share with the class?”

“Nothing, just that – Wayne’s gift is being useful already.”

He froze. “Henderson, definitely don’t mention my uncle’s name when I’ve got a condom in my hand,” he groaned, shaking his head, “that’s worse than the first one.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you laughed, not sounding even remotely sorry. Eddie growled, flipping you back over. Out of breath, and astounded that neither of you had tumbled off the sofa, you caught sight of the time. “Hey, it’s officially Friday.”

“Two more days until we’re on the road,” he said, kissing you, “and out of this fucking cursed town, even if it’s just for five days.”

“Gosh,” you said, voice bright, “I wonder what we’ll do for five days? All alone…in a cabin in the woods…”

“I’m sure we’ll entertain ourselves somehow,” Eddie said, hands inching towards the seam between your thighs.

You gasped, heart fluttering when he smiled. “I’m sure we will.”

“Are you wearing the shirt I had on last night?” You asked, squinting against the sun streaming into his trailer and sipped your coffee.

Eddie glanced down at his chest and smiled. “Guess I am.” He flipped the pancake and slid it onto your overflowing plate. Sleep clung to both of you, making everything fuzzy.

“Why do I feel like that wasn’t an accident?” You asked, drowning your fluffy pile in syrup. “At least wash it first.”

“I resent the implication,” he said, grasping at his imaginary pearls. “How dare you even imply that-”

“-I mean it’s a miracle if that didn’t get dirty after what you did.”

“We did, you mean?” He said, waggling his brows. “I surprise even myself sometimes.”

“Oh, so humble too,” you grinned, giving him a sugary kiss when he bent over your shoulder for one.

“You’re the one who screamed so loud I thought Max’s mom was going to come over and ask if we were okay,” he teased, “was that a new record?”

“Shut up,” you grumbled, hiding your smile behind your mug. You hadn’t been able to walk straight last night and Eddie was being unbearable about it.

Eddie smirked, humming as he placed the pan in the sink. He sank into the seat next to you, curling his ankle around yours. The vinyl table rocked a little when either of you placed your elbows onto it and the sounds of the trailer park waking up snuck its way into your peaceful quiet but to you, these mornings were perfect.

“Hey,” you said, curving your fingers over his wrist. “Do you mind dropping me off before you go in?” You usually slept in and drove yourself home on movie nights.

“Sure,” he said, chewing on a bite, “I can pick you up at eight? The campaign should be done by six. That way we’ll have enough time to make it to the restaurant.”

“I got a new outfit for tonight,” you said, licking a drop of syrup that had trailed down to your wrist, feeling his eyes on you,“I think you’ll like it.”

“Yeah?” Eddie’s eyes darkened and you smirked. “What color is it? How short?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you said, licking the tip of your fork clean.

Without much warning, Eddie grabbed your wrist and dragged you towards his room. You stumbled, taken by surprise, hand reaching for your half-full mug. “Eddie, wait – my coffee’s going to get cold!”

“I’ll brew you a new pot,” he said, pushing you down onto the bed. You bounced once before you watched him rip his pajamas off. “We’ve got thirty minutes before we have to get out of here. Good news? I’m only half dressed.”

“Oh, but I’m the insatiable one,” you snorted, already wiggling out of your shorts.

“It’s that spell of yours,” he said, chasing your lips, “it’s too strong, warrior princess.”

Laughing, you gave into his nudging and wrapped your legs around his waist. “It won’t fall or falter, you know. I make sure it’s ready to weather whatever comes. You’re mine, remember?”

A genuine, small, smile grew on Eddie’s face, the heat in his eyes softening to something deeper – something dear to you.

“Yeah, I remember.”

It had felt like Eddie had just dropped you off home when the phone rang. Sprawled on your bed, you groaned. Crawling towards your night stand, you barely managed to grab the receiver before it stopped ringing.

“Hello?” You huffed, a little out of breath.

“Mrs. Henderson?” A familiar stern voice called out.

You straightened, eyes widening. “Yes?” You said, clearing your throat to try and imitate your mother’s. “Who is calling?”

“We’re calling from Hawkins High. This is the front office and I’m calling because your son has requested he speak to you urgently.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Hello?”

“What the fuck?” You hissed. “A little warning would be nice. What’d you do this time?”

“Nothing!” He squeaked. “Please, please, please-”

You groaned. “No, Dustin, I had a long night and today’s the first day of spring break. I was going to nap. I haven’t slept more than three hours in a week.”

“Have I ever told you how you’re my favorite? Of all time?”

“Ugh, Dustin.”

“I swear, I’ll owe you for the rest of the year.”

“What? What do you want?”

“I forgot my midterm paper for English on my desk.”

“You want me to bring it to you?”

“Preferably within the next two hours. It’s my last class of the day and like worth half of my grade!”

“Dustin,” you whined, not wanting to move.

“Please?”

“Fine,” you hissed, knowing there’s no way you wouldn’t have done it anyway. “You owe me.”

“Holy shit, thank you!”

“Language!”

And that’s how you found yourself back at Hawkins Highschool, a visitor’s pass stuck to the front of Eddie’s hoodie – that you’d stolen – looking for your little brother like Gollum following the one ring.

“Jesus, where the fuck is he?” You grumbled, checking the time.

Lunch, you realized. Spinning on your heel, you made your way to the cafeteria. Right as you turned into the hallway, a familiar voice shouted your name.

“Buckley!” You grinned, throwing an arm around her. “Skipping out on lunch?”

“More like late to lunch,” she grumbled, wrapping her arm around your waist. “My calculus teacher gave me a few extra minutes on my midterm.”

“Aced it?”

“Listen, Cs get degrees,” Robin snorted, pushing the swinging doors open into the chaos. “What are you doing here? I thought you took the day off to catch up on sleep.”

“Dustin,” you sighed, “forgot his English paper. I’m thinking of making him cook me breakfast every morning until Christmas.”

“Oh, or do your laundry!”

You gave her a high-five. “I like how you think.”

“I’m gonna grab food – Dustybuns is with your boyfriend by the windows, see you tomorrow?” She said, squeezing your arm once before stumbling off towards the questionable food.

Glancing towards the tables on the left-hand side your eyes met Eddie’s. Confused, he straightened and lit up anyway. Looking to see what had caught his eye, Mike followed his stare. Smiling, he nudged Dustin who scrambled to his feet and jogged over to you.

“Oh my God, you’re the fucking best,” he said, snatching the folder from your hands. “I owe you my life.”

“I was thinking laundry for the rest of the year,” you said, wrapping your arm around his shoulders.

“What?” He screeched; gob smacked. “Don’t you think that’s a little far?”

You narrowed your eyes at him and he grumbled. Walking over towards their table, you were suddenly intercepted by a wall of muscle. Jason Carver’s patronizing eyes took you both in.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite Henderson siblings,” he sneered, quick hands snatching the folder in Dustin’s hands. Your brother squeaked, eyes widening and you sighed. Was there ever going to be an end to this?

Without hesitating, and with speed that would make Max proud, you grabbed the folder back from him. Pushing Dustin a step behind you, you took one towards Jason. “I know it’s been a while since you’ve last seen me, Carver, but if you need a refresher of that sucker punch I gave you before I graduated; I’m happy to do an encore.”

His eyes narrowed and he took another step forward, his chest almost brushing against you. “I don’t remember what you’re referring to, unfortunately,” he hissed.

Eyes flashing, you clenched your hand and Jason’s eyes shifted to them. “You should call your buddy Tommy, see how picking on me and my brother ended up for him,” you said loudly, his friends snorting behind him.

While you hated the confrontation and they’d both taken every opportunity to take jabs at you – you’d learned very early on that you could never roll over. With a swift move forward, Jason flinched minutely but it was enough for you to smirk.

“Catch you later Carver,” you said, grabbing Dustin’s sleeve, and hitting his shoulder with your own as you passed by.

“Holy shit,” Gareth said, eyes wide and excited. “You just almost punched Jason Carver.”

“She just got him to flinch,” Jeff hissed, glancing over at their table. “I forgot how badass you are.”

“I didn’t,” Eddie said, his arms coming to your waist and pulling you firmly into his lap. “Hey warrior princess.”

“Hi,” you said, kissing his temple.

“Ugh, guys, please,” Dustin groaned.

You glared at him and he shrunk. “I suggest you not say anything lest I shred that folder.”

“Holy shit, that was so hot,” Eddie said into your ear. You rolled your eyes and tugged on his shirt.

“I can’t believe you really wore that,” you said.

“It’s the last campaign,” Eddie said, grin mischievous, “what else would I wear?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Mike asked, eyes wandering over Eddie’s regular Hellfire shirt.

Eddie snorted and you sighed. “Nothing,” you said, shaking your head.

“Still smells like you,” he muttered. You reached beneath your leg to pinch his and he jumped. “Now, now, no need to resort to violence.”

“I’ll show you violence,” you grumbled, leaning into his warmth.

The bell rang, a five-minute warning, and like always, everyone in the cafeteria ignored it.

The basketball team stood, however, and a pair of blue eyes burned a hole into your back.

“I should’ve known, the town Freak and Henderson would shack up together,” Jason said as he passed towards the door. A few of his friends chuckled, shooting you looks.

Jesus Christ did these guys not have anything better to do? You’d forgotten how judgmental this town could be. “Do you just like the sound of your own voice?” You snapped back. “The adults are having a conversation sweetie; remedial math is that way.”

Gareth snorted, water coming out his nose and Jeff pounded his back, eyes riveted.

“You just let you girl handle your battles?” Jason called out, trying to have the last word.  

“Uh, yeah, I make a cute damsel in distress,” he said, batting his eyes and everyone at the table laughed. Jason and company scowled and disappeared through the doors.

“See you tonight?” Eddie asked, kissing the edge of your jaw tenderly. You pecked him once before standing up. “Can’t wait to see the infamous outfit.”

Grinning, you walked towards the side exit. “See you,” you said, and with the eyes you felt watching you why not take a page out of Eddie’s book? You blew him an exaggerated kiss, knowing he’d get your point. Eddie pretended to catch it and tumbled backwards off his seat with excessive force. The table laughed, Dustin pretending to gag, and Eddie dusted his shirt off as he stood. He pretended to put in his pocket and smiled at you.

“Behave, children are present,” Eddie said loudly, a fake bashful expression on his face.

You winked, grinning, and disappeared out door. Dinner tonight couldn’t come fast enough.

[astrolo-t]

Breathing Pt. 1

Pairing: Ellie x Reader

Word Count: 1.8 k

Warnings: MDNI pls and thank, Cursing, Alcohol, Angst, Kinda dirty for like a sec, but not quite A Smut?

A/N: And the category is….jealousy, angst, lovers to enemies to lovers again.

Also thank you to the folks who liked, reblogged, and commented on....damn it what was it called. Not me forgetting my own fic uhhhhh OH 'Safe and Sound' yes, that. Anyways thank you!!!

Enjoy :)

There was never a time in your life when you’d have thought the two of you would end up like this. I mean sure, your time together hadn’t been all sunshine and rainbows. You’d had those growing pains that came in the form of silly misunderstandings and petty fights. But it was the finding each other in a crowded room with ease, the gentle brush of her knuckles against yours, and the trail of kisses down your spine once you were boneless and sated that became significant pieces that made up the two of you. More importantly than anything, it was the deep mutual trust held between you that solidified your bond.

I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.

You trusted her with everything; with every secret, every blemish, every insecurity. And in turn, she trusted you, with a vulnerable side of herself that she reserved just for when you were alone. It had never occurred to you that maybe you were falling too hard too fast; that perhaps you should be more guarded. Because to you, there was never any doubt that you’d always be in each other's lives, and yet….

Here you were.

You haven't spoken in nearly 6 weeks now. The days where you’d spent wrapped in each other's arms, seemed like a distant memory. Time passes in a blur, and suddenly life becomes good news burning on your lips to share with her but being unable to. It becomes evenings that are too quiet without the girl beside you rambling off random facts or strumming her guitar.

It’s not like you hadn’t seen one another, because you had. Small town meant that you didn't even have to go very far to do so anyway. Why, just yesterday you had gone to pick up some supplies and found her wrapped around what had to be the 3rd random girl you’d seen her with.

It was like those nights whispering to each other under the covers had meant nothing. Like you’d meant nothing.

And yea, it pissed you off. Because how can she just move on like you never happened to her.

Because she did. Ellie had fucking happened to you and there was no replacing her.

But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t at least try and now, at the town bar, you had one thing on your mind and that was to get laid.

A giggle pulls you from your thoughts and there's that same girl from a few days ago moving her hair over her shoulder, exposing some ample cleavage. And damn Ellie for being a weak fucking lesbian because she definitely notices. Those green eyes briefly glancing downwards before taking another sip of her drink.

Un-fucking-real

“She’s just…I don’t know. She’s lost. This is her only way to deal.” Jesse says from behind you, laying a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“You’re kidding me, right? I mean - does that look like the face of someone who’s lost?” You say, crossing your arms over your chest.

Ellie leans in to whisper something in the girl's ear who just laughs, a coy smile playing on her lips.

“Yea no, she’s found exactly what she wanted.”

Fuck this. I need a drink.

You make your way to the bar leaning against the worn wood. “Can I get an Old Fashioned?” you ask the bartender who nods and begins fixing your drink.

“Interesting, you always made a face whenever I ordered those. Something about it being an old man’s drink.”

You turn to see Ellie, who places her empty glass on the counter. An orange peel lay in the empty glass. An Old Fashioned. Bitter, smoky, with a hidden sweetness just like the girl next to you.

“Where’s your girl?” you say not bothering to look at her. You were afraid to, just one look and she’d realize how vulnerable you were and you didn't trust her that way. Not anymore.

“My girl?” Ellie says with a raise of an eyebrow.

“Yes, the one who’s been hanging onto your every word.”

She makes a noncommittal noise in her throat. Shaking her head, “I don’t know where you’re going with this.”

You scoff, “Of course you don’t.” The bartender finally places your drink in front of you and instantly you gulp down half of it.

“Ouch, what is your problem?” She says lowering her head a bit in an attempt to catch your eyes. Instead of allowing her you down the rest of your drink, ignoring her because damn her for getting under your skin like this.

“Ignoring me now? That’s a bit childish.” She says, turning to lean her back against the bar.

“Me? Childish?” You laugh wryly, “Ellie literally - just go back to Cindy or whatever her name is.”

But Ellie doesn’t move from her spot beside you, no. Instead, she just turns toward you leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Hmm. You know what I think?”

You swallow because God if this woman's voice did not do something to you. And she knew that. At this point, she knew everything when it came to you. “I think you’re jealous and just a bit frustrated. I think you haven’t been with anyone else and it upsets you.”

Your awes widen feigning awe as she pulls away before turning toward her, crowding into her space as much as she’d been in yours, “Congratulations Ellie,” a small smile plays on your lips as your hand reaches to fiddle with one of the buttons on her flannel, “you got me. No, I haven't been sleeping with anyone else. However,” you lock eyes with her, “you know as well as I do that I can have anyone here if I really wanted to.”

Ellie’s smirk fades just as you catch sight of some random guy coming toward the two of you. Meh, not your type, but he’ll have to do for now.

“Speak of the devil”, you say with an innocent smile. “Maybe he’ll cure me of my frustration?” You drawl sarcastically.

The guy comes to stand beside you. He mentions something about dancing but your eyes don't move away from Ellie’s, those green eyes darkening with fury, lust, and something else, fear.

“I’d love to,” you say, finally turning towards him. You hold out your hand for him to take but just as he's going to grab it, an arm inked with wild ferns and a moth snatches at your wrist, pulling you away - out of the bar and into the nearest alley.

Once you're in the alley, she lets your arm go. Backing away, she begins pacing back and forth with her hands on her hips.

“Ellie-” You start in warning.

“Shut the fuck up.” She says abruptly, still pacing.

You growl “Who do you think you're talking to? Seriously fuck you Ellie you don't get to do this shit, not any-”

Suddenly her arms are pushing you up against the wall, eyes wild before she closes them, placing her forehead against yours.

“If not me, then who else? Who the fuck else can-” She exhales shakily through her nose, “I know. I know that no one can make you feel like I can. They don’t know you like I do.”

One of her hands leaves your left arm, cradling your cheek gently before she kisses you slow and chaste.

And that’s literally all it takes.

Just as she’s pulling away you chase after her lips, sinking your mouth into hers. You kiss her hard and bruising until a sharp pull at your scalp has you gasping in her mouth.

“El…” You whimper feeling your body react instantly, pain melding seamlessly into pleasure.

The fingers tangled in your hair tighten and her lips mouth up your jaw before arriving to the shell of your ear, “Will anyone know how you like your hair pulled or how to curl their fingers just fucking right to have you spilling. Huh? Does anyone know just how fucking lewd you sound when you cum? How you're so quiet until your legs start to shake and suddenly your gushing all over my fucking hands?”

You let yourself lose it for a moment. Just for now, you’d let yourself have this. Let you both have this. Your eyes flutter shut and you feel her everywhere. The mouth that had been previously spouting such filth finds your own again, kissing you frantically. Her free hand pushes up your skirt, squeezing at your ass and before her fingers gently graze at your clit.

You grab her hand, the words, “Touch me, please-please.” on your lips but you can’t say them. You can’t because despite wanting nothing more but for her to fuck you into this wall, you can’t. You know better now.

So instead you move her hand away, pushing her off of you. Stopping immediately, she leans against the opposite wall, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

From here the moonlight casts a shadow over her face and you can’t help but think she’s beautiful. The slit in her brow, and those freckles that you used to try to count, getting a different number each time.

She runs her hands over her face before gesturing back at the bar with a nod of her head, “You were really just going to sleep with that guy?”

“No, but you knew that.” You confess, taking in a shaky breath you continue. “Honestly….what does it matter to you Ellie?” The question lingers in the space between you and when she doesn’t respond you continue.

“May I remind you, we are not together. And may I also remind you how six weeks ago, I told you I loved you -something I’ve never said to anyone - and then 3 days later you decided you wanted to stop seeing each other because you ‘ couldn’t be in a relationship right now ’. So please for the love of God explain to me why whoever I decide to fuck is your business anymore.”

Mentioning your confession makes you tear up a bit because you had been sure. Those words had never felt natural to you, always feeling foreign on your tongue because maybe you’d never heard it enough to know or even felt it. But to Ellie, they came easy, as natural to you as breathing.

She goes silent, staring off into the street and that’s it. That’s all you needed.

“Yea, ok.” You whisper, wiping at the tears threatening to escape. You felt stupid, letting her hurt you all over again. Looking back up at her, she still refuses to meet your eyes and the furrow in her brow deepens as you say,

“Goodbye Ellie.”

Pulling your skirt down and fixing your hair, you head out of the alley. Not towards the bar but your home, leaving Ellie behind you.

[legends-of-apex]

‘Finally’ - Kung Lao x Reader (smut)

Rating: 18+ for smut

Word count: 5,000 words (I know it’s a lot, lmfao)

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long!! Just really wanted to make it good :D there’s so little written for him that I just had to! In short, Kung Lao and the reader have been pining for one another for months and finally decide to do something about it. This fic contains both fluff and smut. Reader is AFAB. Hope you all enjoy, please feel free to let me know what you think and thank you for reading :D

You were trapped between him and the table. His arms on either side of you, braced against the table’s edge so he could lean down to your level where you sat. “It’s very rude you know. To tease your friends.” His eyes held a challenge, a sprinkle of mischief that never seemed to leave when he was with you.

“We were never just friends though were we?”

You weren’t sure why a sudden burst of boldness had overcome you. Perhaps it had something to do with the absolutely unbearable frustration that had been training with him mere moments ago. You were both so distracted by one another and intent on teasing with small jesters and jabs that you couldn’t take it for another minute, delighted when the sudden appearance of the moon relieved the necessity to train. You couldn’t be sure exactly what had sparked it that day but one thing you were sure of was that you wanted him. And you needed him to know that.

It was selfish. Of course it was, but something deep within your gut was begging you to just do something about the way you felt.

“Sounds like you’ve been having some improper thoughts.” He was joking but his voice held little semblance of his usual jest, the tone soft almost timid as he took one of your hands in his and brought your knuckles to his lips. He looked as though he was almost apologetic for having such an effect on you.

Romantic affection and other such distractions weren’t permitted by Raiden. But right now, being so close to Kung Lao, you couldn’t have cared less about what Raiden did or did not permit. His scent was all around you, coupled with the dirt from the fight pit where a kick had sent him tumbling. You swallowed hard, attempting to calm the strange feeling in your stomach in response to his affection.

“Most of my thoughts of you are improper.” That was it then, you’d finally done something that feeling. It was pointless pretending like you didn’t care for one another. You were done with this, done with the longing glances and the pining.

Moving your hand away from his lips so he could speak, he instead pressed your palm to the red dragon enshrined on his chest plate. You were so close together now that he seemed to have a hard time concentrating on your eyes, his gaze instead directed towards your lips. “Perhaps some meditation might remedy the issue.” His tone held absolutely no sense that he meant or likely even knew what he was saying. He was far too focused on drinking the image of you this close to him into his mind.

“It just…” you allowed yourself to lean in closer to him so your lips almost grazed his as you held his cheek in your free hand,”...doesn’t quite scratch the itch.”

“Oi, if you two are going to fuck in here at least let me get in on the action!” Kano’s grating drawl cut straight through whatever moment you had.

Lao moved to stand up straight and likely confront him, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed, but you took hold of his forearm, silently asking him to stay. The both of you turned your heads to glare at the man and for once he shifted uncomfortably on his feet, “Well, worth a try! I’ll leave you to it. Don’t fuck on the table, we gotta eat there tomorrow!” With that, he left.

As soon as Kano rounded the corner, Lao turned back to face you and before he could even register it, you pressed your lips to his. The exchange was soft, sudden. But you felt him smile into the kiss and cup your cheek with his hand. His lips were so gentle. You couldn’t help but sigh when he deepened the kiss just a little, clearly testing where the boundary lay. You had both been holding back so much for so long, and yet you held back still for now.

When you pulled back for a little air, you kept your cheek pressed against his, wanting him close. “Finally,” you whispered and he smiled once more. The tension between you felt like it had finally subsided, even just a little. You pulled away a little more to get a better look at him, admire him in his hazy state. “Finally,” he agreed.

That one singular word was enough to reassure you that he’d had the same issues you had for a while now. You had been pining for him from the moment you met him when you first entered the temple. His cheeky smile and bold words had you hooked. Not to mention literally everything else about him. And you had noticed, the way he looked at you sometimes like he was gazing at the stars. The quick glances at dinner or in training that sometimes weren’t all that quick or subtle. The softest of touches when your fingers grazed his when he would pass you a plate or fill your glass with water without you having to ask him to pass the jug. The way Lui Kang would shake his head at him whenever Lao was a little too excited to help you with something or even just to spend time with you. All of this and more should have told you that he’d felt the same, but you were far too engrossed in the potential scandal of it all to put two and two together. Lord Raiden would surely have your heads for falling prey to such distractions and for breaking Kung Lao’s vows.

“So what now?” You asked him, hoping, just silently praying that he’d take the hint of how much you needed him right now. Hell, you’d have dropped to your knees before him there and then if you could be sure Kano wouldn’t interrupt. He pulled back from you, extending to his full height once more, grabbing his hat and offering you his hand to take.

“What would you like to do?” He asked, his face held a look of almost pleading but his pride and the public setting wouldn’t let him do so. It was then as he held his hand out to you in invitation that you noticed just how tightly the thin leather cords were tied around his upper arms and how wonderfully under stress the cord seemed right now. One side of his mouth quirked up into a smile like he could hear exactly what your mind was screaming, he saw you admiring his thick arms. He had done many times. The slight hitch in your throat at his question too told him everything he needed to know about what you wanted right now but he wanted to hear you say it.

“I think….” You took his hand, trailing your finger over the centre of his large palm before entwining your fingers with his, “That we should take this somewhere a little more private. I mean unless you want Kano to join..”

He looked like he wanted to devour you. His chest heaved a little, tongue darting out to wet his lips as you rose from your place at the table. He couldn’t speak properly, couldn't believe you truly wanted this with him. So many days spent pining for one another yet he still couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that you wanted him, not Liu Kang or anyone else, him. You tugged on his hand lightly, yanking him out of his thoughts and towards your bedroom.

As you hastily unlocked your room with your keys, he couldn’t help but place only the faintest of kisses along your neck from where he stood behind you. His hands found your waist and circled round to meet at your middle, your back pulled flush against his chest. You were so beyond touch starved that even the faintest of touches had you in pieces. You couldn’t help the soft moans that slipped from your lips when he bit down on your skin ever so gently. And he couldn’t help what hearing that sweet sound did to him.

When you flung the door open and tugged him inside, all bets were off about being reserved. His hands were all over you, trying to make up for the lost time that he could have been touching you. Kicking the door shut behind you, you pulled him against you once more. Desperate to have him close. The metallic rattle of his hat hitting the floor rang throughout the room. His lips were far less gentle on yours now and you loved every second of it. A slight nip of his bottom lip between your teeth had him groaning. Such a gorgeous sound. He had you pinned against the door in his efforts to be near you. You were thankful as it gave you just enough leverage to hike your leg over his hip. He took that as his queue to lift your other leg up too, bracing you against the door with his strong arms supporting you.

At the new angel, he nuzzled his face into your neck, pressing kiss after kiss, light bite and after light bite to your soft flesh. You dragged your fingers through his dark hair, careful not to undo the red ribbon he had so carefully tied. A gasp escaped you when he kissed his way down to your chest, mouthing his way over any exposed skin he could find.

You wanted to tell him to just take you then and there. To shove your underwear aside and have you against your bedroom door. But his stature was far more caring than that right now. He was wound tightly, the hardness against your thigh told you that much. So much pent up tension between the two of you and yet he treated you as though you were glass. You’d soon fix that.

“Bed. Please.”

He carefully carried you towards your bed and set you down, mouth never leaving your skin as he did. When he released you to remove his robes you couldn’t help but stare at him. Of course, you’d seen him bare-chested in training many a time before, but it was a view of which you would never tire. His chest was strong and broad, the muscles were defined and well-worked but benefitted from a soft layer above them so his skin was soft to the touch. You couldn’t help it, dragging your fingers over his chest and stomach. You felt each shiver that wracked through him at your touch and revelled in the way his chest heaved from your fingertips alone.

His hand came to shadow your own, near dwarfing it beneath his as he held your palm over his heart as he had done mere minutes before, “Are you sure you want this?” His voice was low, heavy with want, but gentle. You could see the desperation in his eyes. You shared it too.

“More than anything.” You replied, and he smiled, taking your hand and carefully pressing your knuckles to his warm lips for a long moment as though he was almost praying to you. Butterflies spread throughout your stomach, you couldn’t believe the effect he had upon you.

“In that case, lay back,” you quirked a brow at that,”I want to taste you.” He clarified.

You hadn’t been expecting that. You did as you were told for once, shuffling back onto your bed but propping yourself up on your elbows so you could see what he was doing. He ever so gently undid your shoes and slipped those, followed by your socks, off your feet. Next came your trousers once you lifted your hips enough for him to take them off. He let out a huff at the sight of you, staring almost in disbelief at you sprawled out before him. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? It is truly distracting.”

“Is that why I keep whooping your ass in training?”

“Maybe.” He chuckled before turning his attention back to your dripping underwear, “So wet for me already and I haven’t even touched you.” His eyes held a hunger as he parted your legs at the knees a little more so he could get a better look at you. Taking your knee, he hooked it over his shoulder as he sank to the floor, pressing slow kisses along the inside of one thigh and then the next. The touch sent shivers through you, right to your already dripping core. You whined when he got so close to where you wanted him, only to turn his attention to your other thigh again.

“What’s the matter? I thought you liked teasing?” He asked when you whined. You dared not look at him, knowing he’d have his smuggest smile on display.

“Please.” You mumbled, desperation for any touch at all. With a nod of his head towards you in compliance, he rid you of your underwear, tentatively rolling the material down your legs to expose your heat to the nighttime air.

“I’d hold on to something if I were you.” His mouth returned to the tops of your thighs, only this time he let his lips ghost over your core rather than skip over it completely. Your folds were so slick and warm that it almost felt as though his lips melted into you. A long groan escaped you as he began to move his mouth and tongue, laughter vibrating through him at the sound you made. You didn’t know what to do with your hands, you wanted to tug on his hair but settled on grabbing the sheets beneath you. When his tongue flicked your clit, that was out the window and one hand shot to the back of his head in desperation.

He pulled back from your pussy for a moment, “Please pull as hard as you’d like.” He’d obviously caught on. You tangled both hands in his hair then, before he returned to your warmth and he moaned before bringing his lips back to your core. Oh, he liked it when you tugged on his hair, you’d have to remember that.

He sucked your clit between his lips then and let it go so he could lick a strip right up the middle of your folds. “Oh fuck,” you exclaimed, “P-please, do that again!”

“Since you asked so nicely.” He repeated the action, this time taking extra care to move as slowly as possible. Another lick and he was gathering your wetness on his tongue and once again groaning at your taste.

He moved one hand from your thigh and brought his fingers to rest by your lips, “Get them nice and wet for me.” He told you, and you didn’t need to be told twice, sucking his two digits into your mouth and lathering them up with your tongue. “Gods.” He breathed, no doubt imagining that was his cock in the place of his fingers. He withdrew them from your mouth and brought them to your core, circling them slowly in your juices before ever so slightly prodding your entrance with them, slipping the tip of one in and out, followed by the other, in and out, intermittently whilst he worked the rest of your pussy with his tongue.

The very sight of him between your legs would have been enough for you on any other day, but today you were spoiled for choice on what to focus on. He snuck a glance at you from beneath his brow every once and a while, watching your facial expressions in between closing his eyes in pure concentration. You were close now if the coil in your stomach was anything to go by. Honestly, you were surprised that you’d lasted so long given the circumstances.

“I’m close!” You told him.

“I know.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He hooked both his fingers into you at once now, noting how you clenched around him when he did. Pleased with himself when he hit a spot within you that had your head flung back so your chin pointed towards the sky. He chuckled to himself and looked up at your face, not wanting to miss the reaction on your beautiful features.

“What are you- Oh!” The new motion of his fingers, pressing firmly exactly where you needed them to be, was an entirely too overwhelming sensation. Not only did you grab his hair now, you pulled on it, grinding your core against his face in a desperate plea for your release. In your haste to keep him close to you, you’d accidentally pulled the tie from his hair letting the strands fall upon either side of his face in a beautiful frame. He put his mouth into overdrive too, moulding his lips around your nub and giving it as much attention as he could, eyes never leaving your face now. You clenched around his fingers once more before the dam broke and he’d swore he’d never heard a more delightful sound.

His name fell from your lips as if it were the only thing you’d ever known as your orgasm washed over you. He held your hips down with his free hand as he helped you ride it out, never once stopping his movements until you’d finally collapsed back on the bed. You continued to pet his hair as he lay his cheek upon your thigh, brown eyes gazing up at you in a haze.

“They teach you that at the Shaolin academy?” You asked in jest as your breath began to even again. You tilted your chin to look down at him and the adoration in his eyes was enough to send your stomach fluttering once more. He smiled up at you then, his usual half-smile with a slight tilt of his head that you’d grown to love. “Seriously that was great, thank you. Would you allow me to return the favour?”

“If you wish, but please don’t let me finish too soon.”

“Too soon?”

“If you would allow me such a privilege, I would like to feel your body around me as well as your lips.” Gods, you wanted to feel him inside you too.

Once you were ready, still aching with want but satisfied for now, you slipped down off the bed and onto your knees. “Oh you poor thing. Need me to take care of that for you?” You asked when you saw the strain in his trousers. You pulled the waistband of his trousers down with ease, revealing his underwear. You could tell from the outline that he was big and painfully hard but you couldn’t help but tease him with a few soft strokes with the pad of your thumb through the fabric.

“Please-” he gasped when a particularly long stroke had his cock twitching. “Oh sweetheart, it looks like you’ve been hard all day.” You pulled his pants down and allowed his cock to spring free. His cock was thick, thicker than you’d ever imagined. It had ample length too but it was a particularly large vein that ran along its side that really caught your attention.

You pressed a kiss to his leaking tip, another to the vein. Such sweet noises left his mouth already and you’d barely touched him. Dragging your tongue along his underside whilst looking up at him seemed to really do it for him because his cock twitched in your hand. “Oh, gods. Do that again. Please.” You obliged him and earned the most breathy, muddled sound from him.

You gave the tip another kiss before wrapping your lips around just the first half an inch or so.

“Fuck-“ He pulled his cock from your mouth, “As beautiful as you look with your lips around my cock, I’d rather not finish so quickly.” He brought you up from your knees to kiss you again before lifting you slightly so you sat on the edge of your bed once more.

“Do you still want this?” He asked, hand lovingly caressing your cheek, eyes soft and locked with yours. You stood, gliding a hand from his stomach, up along his chest until you reached his strong jaw, eyes never leaving his as you did.

“More than anything. I just want to be close to you.” You confessed.

“We can just lay together if you’d like? We don’t have to do this, I’m more than happy to wait until you're ready.”

“I’m ready,” you told him, “I want you, so long as you want the same?”

“Oh I do. I've wanted this since the day we first met. You have no idea how much I want you.”

“Oh I have some idea.” You pushed on his chest lightly and he fell back onto your bed, taking you with him in his arms, shimmying until he was comfortable. You tugged your shirt over your head and rid yourself of any remaining underwear, flicking your eyes towards him only to see him dumbfounded at the sight of you bare before him. Heat rose to your cheeks for the first time that night. The man had just been eating you out like his life depended on it yet his gaze still made you giddy.

“You are so cute when you’re nervous, you know that?”

“Oh, shut up and fuck me.” You laughed, taking his head in your hands once more and kissing him, revelling in the feeling of his mouth on yours. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

“I know.” You rolled your eyes playfully at his cockiness, sitting upon his hips, careful not to let your body sit fully on his stomach or any other sensitive part of him. His hands glided down your sides until they reached your hips, resisting the urge to tickle your sides as he would have in any other situation.

“You ready?” You asked him, sitting up on your knees, hands braced at the base of his thick chest. He nodded, swallowing hard in anticipation.

With one hand you took hold of his achingly hard cock and directed it towards your entrance, taking care to coat the tip in your wetness before aiming it at your aching pussy. A sharp inhale and you were sinking down onto his lap until his cock filled you completely. With each inch, Lao arched further off the mattress before collapsing back once fully inside you, a long moan escaping him as your pussy enveloped his cock within you. The fullness you felt was something else. His velvety cock filling you so pleasantly you thought you could just sit there like that forever if you wouldn’t have gotten needy.

“My gods,” you groaned at the overwhelmingness of it all, “you feel so good.” You told him and he smiled amid his haze, absolutely delighted he was able to make you feel good even from his place beneath you. He let you take it completely at your own pace, supporting your hips when you moved up of him and then slide back down onto his cock. He wouldn't last long, not with months worth of pent up frustration finally coming to a head. He never thought the day he’d be inside you would ever come, didn’t let himself wonder what your walls would feel like around his member. To be fair, usually, just the thought of kissing you was enough to get him off.

You rocked forwards again once you were sure your body had adjusted to his size. Falling forward to essentially lie directly atop him. You didn’t want to ride if you couldn’t touch and be close to him. Another grind of your hips and a moan fell from his lips right into your ear, his hands now gripping your lower back, helping you move on his cock whilst keeping your form flush against his. His hips moved up in tangent with yours.

“Shit!” You cursed when his cock hit a particularly sensitive spot.

With another roll of his hips, he made contact with that spot again, your hands desperately grabbing fistfuls of the sheets at either side of his head to attempt to transfer the tension in your body from such pleasure. “Again!” He obliged you, full concentration on helping you reach your release.

“Lao, please!” You almost begged, “harder please!”

To your surprise, he pulled out of you completely, gripping your hips and lifting you off of him. In one swift movement, you were on your back, Lao leaning over you and tugging your knees around his hip so he had easier access to your pussy.

“You ready for me?”

“If you don’t get back in there and fuck me I think I’m going to die!”

A laugh escaped him but in truth, he felt that desperation too. In fact, he would have come ages ago had he not been in essence edging himself so that he wouldn’t finish long before you.

You sat up so you cling to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him in for another kiss. You couldn’t get enough of his lips, or hips scent, his arms around, or really anything about him. His arms wrapped around your right after he entered you as you kissed, your moans swallowed by one another’s mouths. That wonderful fullness was back again and he waited until you gave him the go-ahead that you were comfortable again before moving. His thrusts were measured, slow but forceful in a way that had you mewling against his shoulder.

He took his time with you, basking in the feeling of being with you in such a way. His lips found your neck once more, then your shoulder, then your chest and over the tops of your breasts. A particularly loud moan on your part had his attention turned back fully to spearing you on his cock.

“There?” He asked, looking to you for your response. You nodded your head into shoulder and he kissed the top of your head tentatively, smiling at your pleasured state. He focused on hitting that spot again, and again, until your nails started to dig into his shoulders. He let one hand drift between your bodies and down to your core, using the knowledge he’d gained from exploring you with his mouth to heighten your bliss.

“Lao!” His name left your mouth, along with obscenities. You weren’t really sure what you were saying at this point apart from his name. His fingers dancing over your clit combined with his thrusts had you feeling so stimulated that you swore that was all you could feel right now. The coil in your stomach had been rigid and pulsing for a few minutes now.

He pressed another kiss to your temple, “I’m almost there!” He told you, voice shaking both with intensity and the constant movement of you both.

“These bed sheets are a pain to clean.” You informed him in a moment of clarity and he laughed, but his voice was strained as you met his thrusts with your hips.

“Where-“ he gasped, “Do you want it?”

“Inside.” You quickly replied, knowing that you had taken any precautions you needed to.

He laughed again, “I swear you’re trying to kill me.”

As he rubbed harder and more sloppily on your clit, you knew he was extremely close. His forehead was tucked into your shoulder now, skin glistening. When you tugged the hair on the back of his neck between your fingers, he was done. A cry escaped him, cock twitching as he filled you with his release.

That feeling, the feeling of his body shuddering against you, his warmth filling you, was what finally made you come for a second time. You fell back against the covers, taking him with you as you worked through your release. He kept going, lightly and sloppily moving in and out of you until he was sure you were spent. He collapsed a top you, chest heaving in tandem with yours as you slowly came down from your high. When he turned his head to look up at you, a smile spread across your face and his in turn.

“We really shouldn’t have waited so long.” You sighed, feeling the stickiness between your legs as he carefully pulled out of you, not moving his cheek from your chest.

“Agreed.” He huffed in another large breath before his breath evened. It was so good to be with you, in any capacity really but this, this was something almost heavenly.

“Sorry, I think these sheets are still going to need to be cleaned.” He leant up off of you and off the bed, careful not to crush you under his weight, his playful little side smile returning as he walked to your en suite to grab a towel.

You looked down between your legs to check, groaning at the mess. “It can wait for tomorrow!” You didn’t feel like doing any kind of cleaning right now. Your body was spent and your muscles had already begun to ache. He returned with a damp towel and ever so gently wiped away any mess from between your legs, his movements so tentative that it was hard to believe he’d been the one to make that mess in the first place.

“Why? You got something else planned for tonight?” He asked, chucking the towel in the general direction of your bathroom before scooping you up in his arms and setting you down against your pillows.

“Yeah I was just about to go train.” You said in a mock serious tone, actively shoving the covers down so you could both crawl beneath them.

“Ha! Sure.” He had already settled beside you, bringing his arms to wrap around your frame. You turned to face him, your hand sliding beneath his upper arm to gently caress his back as you buried your face in his chest. You felt his lips on your forehead again, his arms tightening to bring you as close to him as he could.

Yeah, you weren’t moving for the world.

[the-littlest-goblin]

*shows up to @essek-week 6 days late with all the prompts shoved into one fic*

based on this post by @slayerscake​

___________________________________________________________

Essek, for all his magical skill, had very little experience being a fighter. But you pick things up when you travel with a group that gets in as many scrapes per day as the Mighty Nein—you don’t necessarily learn how to fight well, but you certainly learn how to fight alongside the Mighty Nein.

While Jester is a cleric, try to go unconscious near Caduceus. 

“It’s not that she refuses to heal,” Fjord explained gently as he inspected the gash across Essek’s sternum for signs of poison. They were all a bit paranoid now since discovering that their previous monster encounter had, unbeknownst to them, injected a slow-acting venom into every bite. “She just prefers to take the enemy out first. It’s a strategy thing, you know. Save the healing for after the fight, once the danger’s gone.”

Essek turned his gaze over to Jester. In their post-battle huddle, while Caduceus hummed a healing prayer for the group and Fjord dressed Essek’s wound, she was several yards away helping Veth saw off one of the beast’s talons as a trophy.

 Fjord continued, “Of course, if you’re like, actually dying in front of her, she’ll heal you. I mean…” he trailed off. Sure, Essek hadn’t exactly been dead-dead when he’d collapsed next to Jester during the fight, but he wasn’t far from it. The last, ironic thought he’d registered before consciousness slipped away was how fortunate it was to fall in battle right next to a cleric. As his eyes fell shut, it was with anticipation that he would be up again in a second to rejoin the fray. 

When he had finally awoken, it was Caduceus’ face smiling over him, not Jester’s, and the ferocious monster had long since been turned into a carcass.

“Mm-hmm.”

Fjord sighed and sat back on his heels. “Just, maybe next time, if you have to go down, try to go down closer to Caduceus.”

“Noted,” Essek grumbled, watching with nauseated fascination as his skin knit itself back together in time with the melody of Caduceus’ spell.

When in doubt, polymorph.

“I am a bit surprised you don’t already have this in your repertoire. I have found it to be incredibly useful.”

Essek shrugged, shoving off the automatic sting of embarrassment that came with admitting ignorance. He didn’t need to feel that way around Caleb.

“Well, I have rarely found myself in a position to fly over rough terrain or transform a terrifying monster into a sloth. Until now, that is.” 

Caleb laughed lightly. “Such is the adventuring life, I suppose.” He smiled, taking a break from flipping through his spellbook to look up at Essek. Even this brief moment of eye-contact felt so charged with energy that Essek had to avert his gaze, the sense-memory of guilt welling up in his throat threatening to choke him. The intensity of Caleb’s undivided attention was still difficult for him to bear. His fingers twitched to rub at the burning spot on his forehead. Instead, he gripped his pen tighter. 

“Here.” Caleb flipped his book around to show Essek the page dedicated to the Polymorph spell, covered in transmutation runes. Essek recognized a few of the symbols in passing. “This should be easy for you to copy down. Then we can practice a bit. I think you’ll find casting it on yourself makes for a rather enjoyable pastime.”

Buff the lesbians. 

Essek’s eyes darted between Caleb and Caduceus, unsure how to interpret this piece of advice. “Um, can you be more specific?” 

Caduceus blinked at him, seeming confused. “Specific how? You mean like, which spells you should use on them?”

“No, I meant specific as in to whom you were referring. I just…” Essek glanced awkwardly around the table. Most of the group was distracted, digging into the enormous feast provided by Caleb’s clowder of feline servants. They were all worn out from a long day of hard travel and enjoying the warm reprieve of the tower.

Essek cleared his throat, trying to discreetly lower his voice without making it obvious that he was being secretive. “I have not exactly been given a briefing on all of your individual sexual preferences.”

“Oh, I can fix that!” Jester cut in. Apparently Essek’s attempts to be clandestine had failed, as they always seemed to with this group. “Caleb is—”

“That is alright, thank you,” Essek swiftly cut her off. His cheeks were already burning red-hot. “Can you please just tell me who ‘the lesbians’ are in this circumstance?”

He could feel Beau’s glare boring through him all the way from the other end of the table as she stared incredulously over her magical flask of whiskey. “You should really be able to figure that out yourself, man.”

Squishy wizards stay away from fights.

“Stay. Here.” Yasha’s growl was twice as terrifying as the insectoid beast screaming over their heads, and Essek was pretty sure the force from her shoving him behind the rocks was going to leave just as big a bruise as getting smacked by the creature’s tail, if not bigger. “Hide.”

“I was trying to help,” Essek muttered, a mixture of shame and indignation pushing him to defend himself to her.

“I know. You can help by staying alive.” A hint of softness entered Yasha’s gruff voice, although its effect was mitigated when she hefted up her massive sword. Essek instinctually slunk away from the arc of the blade. “Fighters get close, wizards hang back. That’s how we do things in this family.” She smiled at him, and another layer of the ice around Essek’s heart melted. “That’s how we keep you and Caleb from snapping like twigs. Save the close-range spells for when things are really desperate.”

Essek nodded his affirmation. Yasha turned and began running back into the melee, letting out an almighty roar. Just before she went out of range, Essek reached out his hands, whispering the incantation and twisting his fingers around the fabric of time that surrounded her large frame. Yasha paused for a moment as the effects of the Haste spell hit her, then turned to flash Essek another smile and a thumbs up.

That’s how we do things in this family.

You have to look sexy when using spells.

“I really do not understand the purpose of this.”

“We’re just trying to help you out!” Veth grinned at him mischievously. Somehow, the ghost of a goblin’s snarl showed through her straight halfling teeth. “Every good adventurer knows aesthetics are crucial to effective spellcasting.”

“That���s not—”

“Plus, we’re not fighting in the cold anymore,” Jester added. “We don’t want you to get overheated in the middle of battle.”

“That… really isn’t an issue.” But he knew resistance was useless when it came to these two. Resigned to his fate, Essek dutifully lifted the mantle over his head and began undoing the fastenings of his cloak. 

Outer layer discarded, he lifted his arms up half heartedly to show his self-appointed image consultants the results. “Is this satisfactory?”

“Hmmmm,” Jester tilted her head to the side, considering him. “Can you try rolling up your sleeves?”

“I’m not taking off my shirt!”

“No one asked you to!” Veth hopped off her chair to circle around Essek, studying him with an intensity she usually reserved for things she was about to shoot. “Now, show us your stance.”

“My what?”

“You know, your sexy fighting stance.” Veth stopped in place, whipping out her crossbow and striking a dramatic pose. 

“Um…” Essek attempted to mimic her, one hand on the meteorite pendant that served as his arcane focus, the other reaching out as if he were about to cast a spell. “Like this?”

Jester tapped a finger to her lips thoughtfully. “You know, now that I’m thinking about it, that tank top did look really good on you, Essek.”

Essek put his head in his hands.

If you get charmed there is going to be a very high chance of Beau punching you to snap you out of it. 

A constellation's worth of stars swam in Essek’s vision, pain bursting through his head like a reverberating drum; he could feel the nasty bruise blooming at his temple where Beauregard had struck him. Blinking away the stars, he turned just in time to see Beau’s fist heading towards him once again, this time making expert contact with his jaw. The force of this second blow sent him hurtling toward the ground, knocking the wind out of him. 

Amid the pain, a sense of clarity slowly came over him, cutting through the pleasant, misty haze that had overtaken his faculties. It gave him just enough presence of mind to scream an indignant, accusatory, “Ow!” at Beau.

She flashed him a cocky grin, seemingly amused by his tone. “Look man, this is what happens. Get charmed, get hit. Now square up.” 

Essek held up one hand in an attempt to stave her off, gasping for breath. The buzz in his brain was receding; somehow, Beau had punched the spell’s effect right out of him. “No really, I’m fine now, it worked—”

But she was already going in for another punch. Helpless to stop her, Essek braced himself for the hit, thinking that if nothing else, he had to admire her thoroughness. 

[heliotropehotch]

as it was - a.h. x fem!reader

Request by @greenprisca​: Hi can I request a Hotch x reader fic! The reader is always there for hotch and jack (took care of them even when Haley was alive), but they both snap at her. Telling her she’s not Haley/his mom. (Y/N) takes a break from them and goes out with a brother or family member that’s a single parent, and the boys see it wrong.

a/n: i contacted tumblr a couple of days ago about my tag issues but i haven’t heard back. boosting this fic, if you like it, could really help tumblr fix whatever issue it’s having with my accounts. its very frustrating, and is making me not wanna post right now, so i might take a bit of time off while i wait for this issue to fix, and while i wait for more requests! ilysm thank you for your support!

Masterlist

author: abby <3

words: 1667

warning: fighting, yelling, mention of past character death

It shouldn’t have happened the way it did. 

The collapse of a perfect world was triggered by a caring act. The end of a long day, the whisper of words turned to shouts, love turned into regret. 

Aaron Hotchner had come back to his home late that night, the smell of dinner flooding through to his nostrils. He smiled, a gesture he missed when he was away on case. He called for Y/N, a presence he had hoped to see. Instead of the giggles of his son and her that usually met his eyes, he was met with quiet, so he headed to his son’s room.

She was moving to close Jack’s bedroom door, having just gotten him to sleep. Her eyes were tired, holding a sadness he had not seen in a long time. He quirked his eyebrow, moving to speak. She shook her head, a finger going to her mouth as she motioned him into the living room.

“How was your day, hun?” she sighed, stirring the pot of food she had made. 

“It was work,” he took his suit jacket off, draping it over a chair before hugging her body from behind. “Did something happen today?”

“I think you’ll need to talk to Jack tomorrow. He yelled at me tonight,” she said sadly, head swimming with thoughts.

“He did what?” he asked concerned, he hadn’t seen his son angry before. 

“I was just trying to put him to bed, but I guess he was having a hard time,” she spoke, recalling the hour before. “So I started humming that song Haley used to sing to get him to sleep, Hey Jude.”

“What?” His body tensed around hers as she continued speaking. 

“I don’t know.” She remained oblivious to his actions. “I thought it would help, but he just got more upset. He shouted saying I wasn’t his mom and started crying. I just held him until he fell asleep.” 

He retracted his arms from around her, hands curling into fists. “You’re not.”

She paused her movements to the dining room to set out plates for the both of them. She asked confused, “What?”

“You’re not his mom,” Aaron’s voice rang stern, anger boiling behind his steely eyes. “You’re not Haley. 

Y/N took a step back, scared of the tone, the implication of the words not said pushing against his lips. “Aaron,” her voice was confused, hurt. “I know that.”

“Then stop trying to act like you are.” He pulled his tie off, chucking it across the couch. “What made you think it was a good idea to do that? Stop trying to be more than what you are.”

“And what exactly am I?” Her voice became louder, not caring about the way it echoed through the hall. 

“A distraction,” he bit out, jaw clenched. “Nothing more than a sound to fill the silence.”

She huffed out a teary, dark chuckle, looking away from the man she’d give up everything for. She grabbed her things, keys jingling as her adrenaline began to wear. “Well, thank you, Hotch,” she bit out, a sarcastic smile on her face. “For having the decency to let me know now. Dinner’s on the fucking stove.”

The silence that was there before her hung in the air as he watched her shut the door, as she watched her leave.

The next morning, Jack Hotchner woke up rubbing sleep out of his eyes, clutching a stuffed animal Y/N had given him for his birthday. He frowned as he saw his father making breakfast in the kitchen.

“Daddy?” he pressed the fuzzy elephant to his chest. “Where’s Y/N?”

Aaron sighed at his son’s confused voice, setting the spatula he was using for pancakes down. He tried to mask his own emotions with the excitement of seeing his son. “Good morning, Buddy! Y/N went home for a bit, she had some other things to do.”

“But I thought this was her home.” Jack’s small little eyebrows furrowed with more confusion. 

“It is,” Hotch knelt down to get on his son’s level. “She just needed some alone time, bud.”

Jack’s eyes began to well up, striking his father’s heart. “Is it my fault?”

Aaron felt his stomach drop with guilt. “Of course not Jack.”

“But I yelled at her.” His lip quivered. “I said she wasn’t mommy.”

“I know buddy-”

“But I don’t care!” Jack was sobbing into his dad’s shoulder now. “I love Y/N, daddy.”

Aaron pressed his distressed son into his chest, shushing his cries against his casual shirt. His own heart ached with regret and words he wanted to take back. He admitted the words he had yet to say, as if to give himself some comfort. “I love her too, Jack. She’ll be back soon, I promise.”

After Jack had calmed down, Hotch decided to spend his day off trying to ease both of their minds. He took Jack to the zoo, carefully avoiding the elephants, and spent what felt like hours staring at the waddling penguins. Jack insisted on getting Y/N an apology stuffed penguin. Then he promised a trip to the park with what Jack called the ‘cool jungle gym.’ 

Jack ran towards the swings as Hotch reclined back into one of the park benches. He smiled to himself momentarily, as he watched his once sad son giggle with the other kids. His grin fell though, as he realized she should be enjoying the day with them. 

He wasn’t sure if Y/N would wait for him, and he honestly didn’t blame her if she didn’t. He had put her through so much, after having cared for both him and Jack when Haley died, and long before she passed as well. He loved Y/N but she couldn’t be blamed for being hurt at the things he had said, and would never mean. 

His eyes glazed over the park, letting out a solemn sigh at the peacefulness that contrasted the interior of his heart. And then he saw her.

Her arms were wrapped around a man, one Hotch hadn’t remembered seeing before, although it felt familiar. Around her own legs, a boy, about Jack’s age, had clung himself to Y/N’s knees, looking up pleadingly. The sweet smile he thought was reserved for his family had worked its way across her face. He almost missed his own son bounding up to where he had planted himself on the bench. 

“Daddy?” Jack called out. “What are you looking at?”

“Hmm?” Hotch said distractingly.

“Who are those people with Y/N? Doesn’t she wanna hang out with us?” Aaron was too preoccupied, watching Y/N pressed a kiss to the man’s cheek. 

“Can I go say hi to her?” he pleaded, tugging on his dad’s hand. 

“Not now, Jack,” he sighed, pulling his now pouting son into his lap. “I think she might be busy, bud.”

Days had passed, without a word from Y/N. Aaron had picked up the phone hundreds of times at that point, wanting to say anything to bring her back into their lives. He had been relying on Jess for help taking care of Jack when he was at work, and had therefore endured a lecture he knew he deserved. 

He got in his car to drive home, sighing at the empty passenger seat next to him. His eyes landed on the stuffed penguin he had bought to please Jack. He sighed once more, knowing he had to do something. 

The front door of Y/N’s apartment was daunting, unfamiliar. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been to her place before, but Jack was right when he said their place was her home. She had basically moved in with them, so the varnish that covered the wooden door only seemed threatening of the barrier he had been putting up. He raised his fist, and knocked on the door. 

Her eyes widened at the distraught man in front of her, promptly turning into a frown with the recognition of Hotch. She moved to close the door again. 

“Y/N, please,” he begged, stoic expression long gone. “I’m sorry.”

“Aaron-”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. I hurt you, I know that. But I didn’t mean it.” She stood still, allowing him to speak, and he took a step closer to her, reaching for her hand. “I love you, Y/N. You were never a distraction, only a relief. There’s so much I couldn’t have done with you by our side. We both know you’re not Haley, but I like you better as you are, as someone who cares for my kid like her own, as someone who cares for me when I forget to do it myself.” 

Her hiccups of tears flooded the silence that came when he paused, his hand moving up to her cheek. “If I could take it all back, before I said those words, I would in an instant. Just as it was, just as you were. I just hope you still hold your love for me after what I’ve done.”

Her arms wrapped around his neck, pressing his nose into her neck as he breathed her in. She sighed, relieved to have one of the Hotchner’s back in her arms. “I love you, Aaron, even when you decide to act like a dick.”

He chuckled against her, squeezing her body against his before pulling back. Brushing away her tears again, he kissed her forehead, making a promise to himself that he wouldn’t let her go again. Her giggle, brought him out of his soft trance.

“Did you bring me a penguin?”

He smiled sheepishly, pressing the stuffed animal into her palm. “Jack got it as an apology gift to you.”

She pressed it against her chest, clutching it the same way his son had days before. “That’s one sweet kid you’ve got there.”’

“One who desperately wants to see you,” he chuckled again.

“Well,” she said, grabbing her purse and keys. “Let’s go home then.”

[jamespotterthefirst]

Prelude (Ethan x f!MC)

Book: Open Heart, Book 1 Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 1.5 K Premise: Three moments leading up to their fateful meeting.

Author’s Note: In which I try to explain why MC didn’t know what Ethan, her medical hero, looked like. Also, my (late) fic for the book 1 replay. Thank you @aestheticartsx​ for pre-reading!

Three.

Harper frowns down at the file in her hand, her sharp gaze burning into the collated papers as though coercing them to solve their dilemma once and for all. From the end of the table, Cyrus lets out an inpatient sigh.

“It's very simple, Harper,” he drones. Ethan's fists clench reflexively at his sides, urging to remind Cyrus that Harper is the chief now and warrants more respect than his insufferable tone is offering. “The last spot should go to the candidate from Harvard. We are the best hospital on the east coast, after all. It only makes sense.”

Harper looks unconvinced and still, her pensive expression remains fixed in the file.

“An ivy league degree does not a good doctor make,” Naveen adds sagely into the ensuing silence. His smile is placid enough but Ethan knows the older doctor well enough to hear the warning edge in his voice. Evidently, even Naveen disapproves of Cyrus's lack of respect for their new chief.

Cyrus scoffs.

“And if you need further proof of that, Doctor Cyrus,” Ethan begins dryly, eyes boring into him. “Then look no further than your side of the conference table.”

A few attendings—at least the ones who have become increasingly tired of Cyrus's boastful proclamations about his alma mater—laugh quietly at the jab. Cyrus splutters, his face an unpleasant shade of red as he glares daggers at Ethan.

“This candidate,” Harper says at last, unaware or uncaring of what she had just interrupted. Her two lone words are enough to command the room's attention at once, but her hazel eyes are on Ethan. “You're convinced she's the best fit for Edenbrook?”

Ethan meets her eye and pauses.

It's the first time they look at each other directly since he ended their relationship two weeks prior. Despite the brief time apart and an unshakeable resolve to be professional, his stomach sinks heavy, like a stone.

Harper looks as graceful and dignified as ever, keeping every emotion in check. Yet, as she holds his gaze, Ethan can see a small flicker or sadness and his stomach twists with guilt.

“I'm positive, Chief Emery,” Ethan responds. “This candidate exhibits the type of potential we look for at Edenbrook.”

The use of her new title seems to snap Harper out of a reverie.

“She graduated top of her class and ranked in the top percent among our chosen cohort of interns,” Ethan continues. “I've also looked into her research and it's among the most promising I've seen. I recommend her without reservations.”

With a single nod and a sense of finality, Harper closes the file.

“Then it's settled. We have our last intern.”

“You're joking, Harper,” Cyrus blurts out, incensed. “We're giving a coveted spot to the candidate from UCLA?”

He says the name of the school with so much derision, Ethan feels his ears flare up.

“That Doctor Ayala?” Cyrus continues.

“Doctor Allende,” Ethan corrects, jaw clenched.

“Don't we have enough charity cases in the cohort already? This is token—”

But the vitriol is quickly interrupted by several things happening at once: Ethan darting forward, fists ready; a startled, collective gasp from the other attendings; Naveen, quietly intercepting Ethan and halting his steps with a steady hand, a feat that is impressive for a man much older and shorter; and Harper, also on her feet, directing a disgusted look at Cyrus she doesn’t bother to disguise behind professionalism.

“I would think very carefully about finishing that sentence if I were you, Doctor Cyrus,” she says, her voice low but with the impact of a clashing gavel. “And I ask that you address me as Chief Emery moving forward.”

Two.

“If you end up marrying someone with a Boston accent,” Laurel is saying with a devilish grin. “I will never be able to keep a straight face when they talk. Pahk the cah in Hahvahd Yahd.”

Her older sister peers at Lilac over the flaps of an open cardboard box, the glint in her eye growing wickeder still. “Imagine what they’d sound like in bed. You're so fucking gawgeous, dawctaw—”

Before her sister can escalate that impression into disturbing territory, Lilac silences her with a well-aimed pillow. It succeeds in hitting Laurel straight in the face but also in turning her laughter into a cackle.

“Are you going to help me pack or not?” Lilac says sternly, though the effect is entirely ruined by the smile that manages to break through.

Laurel raises her hands in defeat and returns to packing Lilac's books neatly. They work in companionable silence for a few minutes with nothing but their favorite music blaring from the speakers of Lilac's phone.

“Is this the book?” her sister asks suddenly, turning a worn textbook in her hands and studying it closely. “The one written by your medical crush?”

For some inexplicable reason, Lilac feels her face flare with heat. “He's not my crush.”

“You just worship the ground he walks on,” her sister returns, flipping through Diagnostic Principles. “Though, you're right. In order to have a crush you'd need to know what he looks like.”

Laurel reaches the back cover, frowning. “Why wouldn't he add an author picture?”

Lilac says nothing, biting the inside of her cheek. She can't blame her sister for being curious and a bit disappointed at the lack of visual representation. After all, Lilac had felt crestfallen when all she found in the author's information section was the green and blue Edenbrook logo.

“Maybe he's a private man and doesn't like his picture out in the world? Maybe he wants aspiring doctors to focus on his research and not his looks?”

“So he's either really hot or really ugly,” Laurel returns, unmoved by Lilac's impassioned speech. “Have you ever tried looking him up online?”

Lilac had been tempted many times, but she was fiercely adamant about keeping her medical hero a mystery outside of his work. It already felt invasive enough to track down his undergrad research and every other minor paper he'd ever written. When it came to Ethan Ramsey, Lilac had searched every corner of scholarly journals and databases, absorbing every piece of his work with an adoration that was already embarrassing enough.

Plus, she would never admit it out loud, but she was also afraid that knowing what the brilliant doctor looked like would somehow ruin him for her. Or at least, alter the image of him she had constructed in her head for so many years. It felt right to continue seeing Dr. Ramsey as the brilliant force that pushed her into her dream career and not as a definitive set of features.

“It doesn't matter what he looks like. He's the best and I'm going there to learn from him, not to judge his appearance.”

“I'm Googling him,” Laurel announces, already typing furiously into her phone. After a few seconds, her phone returns results and her eyebrows shoot up, staying suspended for longer than normal.

“What?” Lilac asks despite herself.

“Wow.”

“Wow what?”

“Just… wow.” Laurel stares down at the screen with such awestruck amazement that Lilac feels a powerful wave of curiosity. “He’s shirtless in some of these.”

“What?” Lilac yelps, feeling her face flare up at once. 

“Yeah, apparently you’re not his only fan. Tons of people have taken his picture.” Her sister seems to blink out of a trance, turning the screen toward Lilac. “Here, see for your—”

But Lilac turns her gaze away almost out of reflex.

“No!” 

The word comes out far more impassioned than Lilac intended. Still, she resolutely turns her head. “That feels...invasive, somehow?”

“Come on—”

“I'm serious, Lau. I don't want to see. I'm already nervous enough about this whole thing without having to worry about this wow-worthy revelation. And besides, taking someone’s shirtless picture without their consent and posting it online is already bad enough. It feels wrong supporting that.”

Laurel rolls her eyes.

“I'm going to see him in less than a week anyway. With clothes. In a professional setting. As I should. If I waited all these years, I can wait that long.”

A knowing, devious sort of smile pulls at her sister's face. She mumbles something over the music and Lilac can swear it sounds oddly like: “...worth the wait.”

One.

Ethan should have taken the broken and sputtering coffee machine in his apartment as an omen. His morning definitely declined from then on, starting with gridlock traffic and ending with an infuriatingly long line at his favorite coffee place.

The ultimate lack of coffee is probably his fault because Ethan had spent too much time deliberating whether or not he wanted to go with store bought coffee on what promised to be a grueling day. When he had finally made up his mind, however, the line was already out the door.

Irritated and caffeine deprived, he drives back to Edenbrook.

“You're earlier than we agreed,” Naveen says as soon as Ethan accepts his incoming call. “What was the point of rearranging the whole schedule if you were going to come in when you pleased anyway?”

“I'm not even through the gates yet. What are you spying on me?”

“No need. You forget how predictable you are.”

Naveen chuckles as he says this which eases some of Ethan's irritation. The older doctor had purposely scheduled him later in the day to give him some peace on the first day of the new intern cohort.

Naturally, Ethan arrived several hours early, as per his custom.

“Or maybe you know me too well by now.”

Naveen's benevolent laughter turns into a dry but lingering cough on the other end of the line. Instantly, Ethan's insides freeze over, his stomach sinking unpleasantly.

He opens his mouth to question his mentor about this persisting symptom, when sheer reflex prompts him to stomp on the breaks so suddenly, his body jerks forward then slams against his seat.

“Shit.”

Something—or rather someone— had crossed the parking lot road right in front of his car, standing mere inches away from his front bumper.

“Ethan?” Naveen asks through the speaker.

When Ethan recovers and regains movement of his arms and legs, he feels the spike of adrenaline give way to pure annoyance.

The offending pedestrian is a young brunette clad in blue scrubs, a medical intern by the looks of it. She stands there in the middle of the road, her mouth hanging open in a way that would have been comical to Ethan if he wasn't so irritated.

They stare at one another, though Ethan is convinced she can't see much through the tinted glass.

Then, right before his eyes, she seems to recover from the shock. Drawing herself to her full height, she glares at Ethan. At least, he thinks she's glaring through the dark lenses of her sunglasses.

Ethan almost scoffs.

She has the audacity to be angry when she was the one who made the rookie mistake of aimlessly crossing in front of him?

Who the hell does she think she is?

“Asshole,” she mutters, the word quite audible through his windows.

Before a stunned Ethan can respond, she turns on her heel and rushes toward the hospital, a curtain of dark hair dancing behind her.

“What was that?” Naveen asks, still on the call.

“I hate interns,” Ethan responds much to the older doctor's amusement.

Bonus:

Author’s Note: In other words, my MC was late to her orientation because of Ethan and that’s how she met him in the waiting room lol. Thank you so much for reading! 

*Tagging Separately 

[anxiousstark]

The Aura Painter | DOB

Painter! Dylan x Princess!Reader

Word Count: 12K (12.057)

Warnings: Mentions of sexism, masturbation (mutual or solo), unprotected sex (this is a fic, be safe), cum play, breeding kink, filthy tbh, some cliché romance scenes. This is my second time writing ‘smut’. But this is the first time writing something so long and so filthy, bear with me.

A/N: This is an idea that I’ve had in mind for so long. Hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed imagining it. And of course, writing it. If you do, please give it some love and share it. The biggest solo piece I’ve ever written!

All Rights Reserved. The author, me, don’t allow any type of copy or adaption.

BIG MASTERLIST  |  KO-FI

Words you must know for the fic:

Onism (n.) the awarness of how little of the world you will experience.

Heriaeth (n.) a homesickness for a home to which you canot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning. the grief of lost places of your past.

Elysian (adj.) beautiful or creative; divinely inspired; peaceful and perfect.

.

The droplets of rain fell against the glass, leaving a trail which I followed with my gaze. The glistening tear of water disappeared before I could place my finger against the window and imitate that I could command its movement.

The sky seemed to cry, turning a darker shade. Perhaps the sky had lost a lover or perhaps, the one they loved was far from its reach. I could not tell as I never experienced one of those stories.

The books I had to read as a child were those who would teach me how to act and think. But those I read on the confines of my room when everyone was sleeping were different. Those told the story of a beautiful lady who wished to be rescued by a gentleman. I would try not to squeal under my blanket, as that was something, a lady of a high position should not do.

I glanced at the sky again as it screamed, lightly swaying the trees outside while his droplets of tears wetted everything under itself.

"M'lady," I corrected my form, trying to look as straight as possible. Turning around, I glimpsed directly into a pair of green eyes that seemed to lose their brightness as the seasons passed. Those eyes used to be the brightest ones in this palace, but now they were almost colourless, decorated by a couple of wrinkles. "Your mother is asking for your presence at her table."

That was unusual. My mother was a sophisticated distant woman who liked to spend time on her own. Hence, she tried to escape from her responsibilities as a Queen while having breakfast by herself. She would relax outside in the gardens. A small white table filled with her preferred meals, and even if she sought to convince herself, and lie to me about her drink being just a mere juice, everyone knew it wasn't.

"Tell me, Harold," While walking through the corridors of the palace, I noticed once again the monotony. The clicking of my heels appeared to be the only sound, except the melody of the rain falling against hard surfaces. "Did the Queen seem mad?"

Harold tried not to chuckle, knowing that if my parents or any of my siblings were near, he would end up getting struck by executing such a natural gesture. "I must say that the Queen did not ask for the cello man to accompany her this morning with some music."

I gasped, glancing at him to discern if he was teasing me. Harold had been in our family for so many years. I dare to say that he was in this palace before anyone else.

"She must be quite mad, then." I bit my lower lip, trying to think what of the things I have done could have gotten her mad, and how she had discovered them. "Perhaps she found the romance novels hidden in my room?" I muttered to myself.

"M'lady," Harold opened the door to the great hall. "She preferred to eat her breakfast in here as it is raining cats and dogs outside." He whispered, letting me walk in first. I silently nodded my head, wandering closer to my mother, who was sitting on the farthest place even though she was on her own. "My Queen. The young Lady has arrived. If my services are required, I will be waiting outside to escort the young Lady back to her room."

I shivered as soon as Harold left the room, wishing he could have stayed with me. But of course, he did not deserve the wrath of my mother. While walking closer to her, my clicking heels seemed to resemble the countdown of a bomb that would explode shortly.

"Take a seat, my darling," She demanded as soon as I was close to her. I swallowed, swiftly grabbing the skirts of my dress. I sat down on the white chair in front of her. She coughed. "Someone quite similar to the young Lady of the palace has been seen on the street market." A newspaper was placed on top of the table, facing me.

I swallowed one more time. "Must be someone who resembles me." I attempted to sound confident. "I am afraid that happened on Friday, and I take piano, courtesy and manner classes that day."

"Tell me, darling," She faked a smile. Her dark brown eyes, studying my position and expressions. "May I ask how you knew this happened on Friday as the article does not say something like that?"

"I-." Her stare became even more intimidating. "Guessed?" I squinted my eyes, perceiving that she would raise her voice to inhuman levels.

"Nor did you only skip your classes, you also lied and went outside on your own." Her tone was sharp. "Hideous things could have happened to you. Do you know what this could mean to your brother's throne?" Of course, this was about my dear brother. "The sister of the future King of Onism does not follow the rules of the palace. Then, what should they expect from their new King?"

"I did not do anything inappropriate, mother." I sighed, shifting my gaze to look at her directly. "I did not get in trouble, and as you can perceive, I am all right."

She rolled her eyes, which surprised me as she always claimed for that gesture not being refined. "And books," She pointed to one of the chairs, where I noticed all my favourite romance novels resting upon it. She had found them.

"May at least have some privacy in the confines of my bedroom?" I was mad, but raising my voice to her would get me in even more trouble. "Those," I referred to the pile of books that were my most precious property. "Those are mine."

"Not anymore," She got up, grabbing one of them and examining the title. "Romance novels? When will you understand that nothing like this happens in real life?"

I felt a little strength going through my body. "That book, in particular, describes the love story of the author! It is a romance that happened to her in real life. It is not fiction."

"But that woman was not a princess, was she?" I shook my head as she waited for my answer. "However, you are one. Even if you do not have anything to do with the future throne of Onism, your brother does, and you must behave like a princess." She walked closer to the fireplace. My eyes widened, and I gasped loudly. "You are a woman and a princess. The only thing you must worry about is making your future husband happy while following his rules, even if you do not love him." She opened the book, her skinny finger ripping some of the pages, and in the process, shattering my heart. "You will get married to someone you do not love, just to unite two countries." She let the book slip from her fingers. Falling to the fire, and burning as much as my eyes were burning due to the tears. "Stop filling your head with stories that will never happen to you. You are dismissed."

I got up from the chair, slightly glancing at the pile of books. I knew they would end up in the fireplace, slowly burning. I bowed my head. "I apologize, mother." She made a gesture with her hand, instructing me to leave the great hall.

My head was down as I walked to the door, wishing to exit the room and rant to Harold. "Wait," The voice of my mother interrupted my walk. "Get prepared as in two hours a man will come to paint a portrait of you. We will send the portraits to different future Kings of other countries that have shown interest in courting you."

"Yes, mother." I could not argue.

As I came out of the room, I noticed Harold's gaze fixed on me. I shook my head, letting him accompany me to my chambers. While walking through the long corridors, I glanced outside the windows. I reminded myself that I would never dance under the rain with someone while we laugh and kiss. I will never be caressed with love. I will only be touched with the purpose of bringing an heir to someone. An heir that would have to live the same dull life as me.

Going inside my bedroom, Harold bowed his head while he walked away. However, three ladies that worked in the palace entered my room, ready to assist me. I could not even take a bath on my own, nor could I dress by myself as the three of them did it for me.

"The painter will be here soon, ma'am," Rosetta informed, deciding to stay in the room as a lady should not be alone in a room with a man who is not her beloved husband. "He is a painter from town, said to have a gift."

"Is he quite known?" I asked to continue the conversation as I did not want to be rude. Nonetheless, the image of my books burning was the only thing in my mind.

"He is known in town for doing amazing portraits in exchange for food and a place to live." My curiosity peaked at the comment. "Royals are quite interested in getting their portraits done by him. Though, he had denied their offers." I looked at her with confusion. "He does not want to be related to any royalty member." I nodded my head, understanding why he did not want that.

There were two knocks on the door, indicating that the painter was here. I was quite surprised as my mother wanted the portrait to be painted in my private chambers. "Please, come inside."

When the door opened, a tall man came inside. He was probably around 5' 10". Wide shoulders that were covered by dark brown clothes. It seemed to be his best attire. Even though you could see the cheap fabric, and how he had tried to cover some holes and get rid of some stains. He had tried to gel his hair back. At first, I thought his hair was black until a streak of light fell on him, and I discerned it was a little lighter than that.

His light brown eyes fell on me, and studying them in-depth, I noticed that they resembled to be hazel. He bowed his head. "Uhm, it is a pleasure to meet you, Princess. I am here to-."

I offered him a smile. "Welcome to the palace," I bowed my head a little, which seemed to surprise him. "Please, do not call me Princess. It is fine to call me Lady." I gestured to one of the chairs in my room. "Please take a seat. It must have been a bumpy ride to the palace."

While sitting down, he nodded his head. There was a big black binder between his hands. Noticing my gaze on it, he quickly opened it, showing different canvas. "I can make different types of portraits. I thought I should bring some examples for the Pri-, Lady to choose the one she fancies the most." He stretched his arm, providing his drawings for me to look at them.

"May I ask for your name, sir?" My eyes focused on his drawings, understanding why everyone wanted to get their portrait done by the young man.

"My family name is O'Brien, while my name is Dylan, my Lady."

I nodded my head while still focused on his magnificent paintings. However, one in particular seemed to grab my full attention. It was the portrait of an elder, who appeared to be looking deep into me. He was skinny, and by his clothes, I could tell he was poor. He was sitting on a chair, and I almost gasped when I discerned that he had a missing leg. His expression was warm, a gorgeous smile decorating his face. Though, you could see that he had missing teeth.

"Did you find any equivalent style to what you desire?" His soft voice snapped me from my thoughts.

"May I ask?" I turned the portrait around, giving it back. His eyes examined the elder he had drawn. "Why is he smiling, but there are shadows around him?" I had noticed that the elder was smiling. However, black and grey adumbrations were around his figure. Some resembled horrible monsters. Especially a grey shadow that resembled a demon, resting upon his head.

He chuckled. "Those are the ones people in town ask the most." He glanced at me. "I draw their exterior as they want other people to see them. But then, around them, I draw what I can perceive or what I learnt about them." I furrowed my eyebrows. "Sadly, this man passed away a couple of weeks ago due to a cold." He licked his bottom lip. "He had offered me a home for a couple of days, and of course, he had proposed food in exchange for a portrait. Those days, I learnt many things while listening to his stories. I noticed that the man was attempting to look happy for his sick wife, whom he loved with his entire soul."

I fidgeted on my seat. "What happened, then?" I curiously asked, making him grin.

"He was not happy. He was afraid of losing the love of his life because death had knocked a couple of times on their door." He glanced at the painting. "Their children had married to people in higher positions, ignoring the elderly couple and not helping them with medicines. He was 87 years old, working in the town market. He was selling vegetables that he was cultivating by himself." He decided to continue as he saw that I was expectant of knowing more. "He never lost the smile for anyone, even if people did not treat him right. And of course, when arriving at his house, he would maintain the smile for his wife."

"Then," I tried to hide my teary eyes. "Those dark shadows..."

"Those are the monsters he tried to hide, but that I got to meet. The fear of losing his wife, the frightening feeling of wanting to end his own life, the fear of not having money to pay for his wife medicines, and so much more."

"And what happened to them?" Rosetta coughed, indicating me to fix my posture, and I quickly did, which made him furrow his eyebrows.

"As I said, one of his biggest fears was that they did not have enough money to pay for his wife's medicines." He peeped at the ground for mere seconds. "She died in her sleep. Her body could not hold the pain anymore, and she faded away."

"What about the old man?"

He nodded his head, his gaze shifting to the portrait. "He passed away in his sleep too. There was a smile in his face."

I blinked, affected by the grievous story of those who had to fight to survive. "I want one of those!" Both Rosetta and Dylan looked at me with surprised expressions decorating their faces. "I would like one of those portraits."

"My Lady, I'm sorry to intervene on matters that I should not. But I do not think the Queen will like such a portrait to be sent to those who are interested in courting you." She was right.

"She will not look at the portrait. Harold will be the one sending them." I affirmed, knowing that my mother would not dirty her hands for anything.

"It could get the young man in trouble, my Lady."

I glance at the man, who was looking at Rosetta until his eyes met mine. "Yes," I smiled, even though I was upset. "You are right. Then," I studied a portrait, a simple one. "I would like this one." Dylan nodded his head.

"It would take a couple of days to finish it. But I will be staying in the palace for the time being." He informed. "Is there any time of the day where you prefer to spend your time just standing in front of me?" He blushed a little. "Just for the portrait, of course."

"Tuesdays and Fridays I must spend receiving 'Lady classes'. The rest of the days and hours, I will be in here." I sighed, offering him another smile. "Did they give you directions for the room where you will stay?" Nodding his head, he showed me a piece of paper with some important directions to places of the palace that he could visit. "Your bedroom is at the end of this corridor. You are lucky as it is empty, except for me and Harold's room." Of course, he had met Harold already. "I must warn you not to leave your room after 11 pm as there are guards everywhere." I got up from my chair. "Rosetta," I pointed at her. "She will bring every meal to your room. Do not hesitate if you need to ask them something. There are a bathroom and a study in your chambers."

Before he could answer, the door of my chambers opened. A broad man stumbled in with decisive steps, and fury adorning his face. I gulped, stepping back before I could hold myself.

The man threw a newspaper at me, hitting my chest. Glancing at the floor, I witnessed the same newspaper my mother had been holding a couple of minutes ago. "Again?" His voice was sharp. "Did you escape again to buy those stupid books?" I shook my head. "Oh, yes, you did. Mother told me." His boots sounded like thunders as he walked closer. "I do not desire to hear any rumour of how my sister is not acting like a lady." My brother Evans glared at me. "If my future in the throne is affected by your stupid imagination and ambitions, I swear I will do whatever I must do for you to learn your lesson."

"I am s-."

"Do not you dare speak back to me!" He screamed. His gaze shifted to Dylan, who was standing too, eyes widened and what seemed anger decorating his face. "Are you the painter?" He nodded his head. "Try to make her attractive in the portrait. Hopefully, some rich soon-to-be King from another country will want to marry her." He peered at me. "Luckily, he will know when a woman needs a genuine beating to act like a lady or a wife." Those were his final words as he left the room. I finally could breathe.

"Uhm," My legs shook, and I attempted to hide it. "As I said before if you need anything, do not hesitate to ask."

"Thank you, my Lady." He got up from his chair, clutching his paintings. "Is it all right to start with the portrait tomorrow morning?" I nodded my head, wishing him goodnight as he left my bedroom.

"Rosetta," Her hands were behind her back, respectfully. "Tell Harold that I demanded not to be disturbed tonight. Not even for dinner." She nodded her head, bowing and leaving me on my own.

I sighed, wandering closer to a full-body mirror that decorated one of my walls. The moment I feared the most was getting closer. I would marry someone whom I do not love. I would marry someone whose eyes would not hold back from gawking at other women. And with those thoughts in mind, I went to sleep.

The following day, I decided to have breakfast and lunch in my chambers, not wanting to face my mother or my older brother. I had convinced Harold to stay outside my room, wanting to be on my own with Dylan. I thought that I would feel more comfortable if I didn't have someone constantly checking my posture or warning me of what should not say. Moreover, I also believed that a painter needed his privacy to reflect his art on a canvas.

I was stunned toward the bright day outside. Looking out of the window, I saw my little siblings running around the garden as some servants followed them. They were probably making their job even more complicated. Alexander and Victoria were quite the troublemakers. However, I was thrilled for them as they would not have to follow such strict indications, as to the ones I had to obey.

"Are those your siblings, my Lady?" Scared by the prompt presence, I turned around. Dylan was standing there, holding a big canvas and a briefcase, which I assumed held his painting materials. "I apologize if I alarmed you. Harold permitted me to come inside."

I nodded my head. "Yes, they are twins." I offered him a smile as he grabbed a chair, placing it in front of me. I discerned that my back was resting against the wall, and I quickly moved to stand straight. "Oh, please, no." He extended his arm. "Would it be okay for you to go back to that position? The light was caressing the right side of your face. There was a beautiful contrast." I swallowed, nodding my head while resting my back against the wall. I heard him chuckle. "Please, do not worry. It is okay for you to blink, breathe or swallow. It is also okay for you to do light movements."

"May I talk?"

"I am not great at holding conversations, but I will try my best, my Lady." He placed the blank canvas on the easel. His hands worked fast while taking out his painting material from the briefcase. "If it is not rude," He swallowed, probably questioning himself if it was okay to continue speaking. "I have noticed some books lying under the bed," I glance at my bed. Noticing that some books could be seen, which meant he was good at observing and that I did not hide my books correctly. "What books do you read?"

"Well," I gulped. "I read books about manners a lady should have in front of males and for the table. I study geography too as I must know the rest of countries for future alliances, and-."

"I apologize, my Lady." He wetted his brush. "Perhaps I formed the question wrongly. I wanted to know which books you enjoy."

My mouth opened as no one has ever asked me such a question. "You will think I am a typical young girl."

"Cannot think like that, my Lady." He mixed some colours. His painting brush, caressing the canvas delicately. "You are not a typical young girl. You are the Princess of Onism." Though those words shattered my heart, he was right. I would never be a 'normal' girl as my life was nothing like the one of an ordinary lady. "However," He continued. "When you paint someone, you get to comprehend them deeply. I believe I might discover that you are an ordinary human at heart. Something beautiful that would separate you from cold-hearted royalty." I was surprised by his words as people would not dare to talk of royalty like that.

I offered him a smile. "You might." He got distracted for a couple of seconds. His eyes navigated from the canvas to me, trying to retain my features and the folds of my clothes. "Romance." I was flustered. "I do truly enjoy romance."

"I presume something you will experience as soon as these portraits are sent."

I shook my head. "Something I presume I will never experience." His eyebrows furrowed once again. "Royalty men have the right to choose whom they will marry, even if they do not love them. Women will have to accept whomever their parents choose for her." My gaze shifted to the window for a couple of seconds. "It is my destiny."

He stopped painting for mere seconds, staring at me while slowly blinking. "Destiny can be changed." I shook my head. "It can," He nodded his head. "It might be scary or go against the rules. But destiny can be changed by the decisions you make. Only you are the sailor of the ship." He grinned. "That is something my father used to say."

"Used?"

"He passed away." He gritted his teeth. "He was a great painter too. Better than me." To my curious gaze, he decided to continue. "My mother left when I was a baby. She fell in love with a younger man, leaving my dad and me." He gulped. "Therefore, I would not dare to say that I have seen love as my mother left without looking back."

"H-Have you experience love, sir?"

"Please, call me Dylan, my Lady." There was a comfortable silence between us as he seemed to be concentrating on the portrait. "Not sure I did. Love is not what is shown in books. Nonetheless, I would like it to be like that."

"I cannot agree or disagree." I offered a sad smile, trying to hide my tears. "May we take a rest?"

He glanced at the clock hanging on my wall, nodding his head. "I apologize, time went by so fast." He cleaned and placed his paints inside his briefcase. "Good night, my Lady." I bowed back to him as he closed the door.

I waited for a couple of minutes, opening the door and seeing Rosetta waiting there. "Where is Harold?" I glance around, hoping to see the grey-haired man.

"He had to take care of some issues." She replied, looking nervous. "Do you need anything, my Lady?"

I quickly nodded my head. "I expect no dinner today, and I demand to be left alone." She furrowed her eyebrows, and before she could speak back, I stopped her. "I would like to take my nightly bath on my own, please." She nodded her head, walking away after wishing me a good night.

I closed the door of my chambers, quickly locking it as I rapidly walked into my bathroom, doing the same thing to the door. Walking closer to the bath, I turned on the faucet. I checked the temperature of the water until it was lukewarm.

I sighed as my hands went to my back, untying my dress. As the clothes fell to the ground in a surprisingly elegant manner, I appreciated not being forced to wear a corset. My legs shook as I placed one inside the water until I was sitting down.

I have read in books how a woman and a man would fall in love. A passion that they could not resist. An absolute passion that would make their hands wander through their bodies, wanting to feel each other as close as possible. I have read it so many times that I could lie to my head, making it think that I have experienced something like that.

I have read the way hands seem to burn on the skin, and how breathing becomes more arduous. And how after being pleasured, you need it over, and over again.

I sighed, feeling my nipples hardening, and I learnt they could do so even if the temperature was not cold. My left hand gripped the edge of the bathtub as the right hand rested on my chest. I decided it was time to move it, and closing my eyes, I left it to wander down while grazing my nipples.

When my fingers caressed my tummy, they seemed to become shy. Not used to the places they were descending. I have read books, but I have never experienced the feeling, which made me feel curious.

I tried to remember all the books. My fingers ended up placed on top of my bundle of nerves, and just the mere touch made me shiver from excitement. I slowly moved them in circles, adding more pressure, little by little. The temperature down there seemed to get warmer to the point where it burned. I could not avoid the need to move my fingers faster.

My left hand continued to grip the edge of the bathtub, but this time harder as my mouth opened and my vision became blurry. I felt this strange sensation. I felt like I was going to urinate inside the warm water, and even though I felt quite disgusted by the thought, I could not stop my fingers. They moved in circles, faster and adding much more pressure.

And it came. A rush of pleasure came over my body, and I could not hold back the moans escaping my mouth as I peeped down between my legs. My intimate parts turned red due to temperature and agitation. Then, I regarded the water near it, looking less transparent. So that was it. That is what a woman felt after pleasuring herself.

Curiosity invaded me even more, and I wanted to experience more further.

A couple of days had gone by, and the portrait was already looking amazingly good. I did not have any doubt of Dylan's talent as I have seen some of his works.

"Has anyone shown you around?" We had got a little closer as we spent many hours together for the portrait. He shook his head, taking off his dark green beret, and resting it on a nearer seat as he proceeded to mix some colours. "Would you like to see the gardens and the horses?"

His eyes widened. "Horses, my Lady?" I chuckled at his expression, nodding my head.

"Eight to be exact." His eyes widened even more. I remembered everything he had told me about himself, especially his love for horses. "We could take a rest. I feel dizzy from the smell of paint." He promptly nodded his head, halting and resting his brush on top of an antique plate stuffed with remains of paint.

Strolling through the gardens, I peered at him. He seemed content, having the chance to smell the fresh air mingled with the scent of the white roses that decorated our gardens. "White roses are your favourites." He had surprised me while retrieving such a simple, but a unique fact about me.

I nodded my head. "I prefer them over red roses. Those are overrated." He laughed, making my heart beat loudly. Dylan was an attractive man, and these past days I could not stop my body and my heart from reacting as soon as my gaze met his. "The stables are over there." I pointed to a couple of meters away from us. I extracted my arm as I felt something falling on it. "Oh, it seems like it   will start drizzling." We walked faster to the stables, almost running as the rain appeared to fall swiftly upon our clothes. "You will adore Arden. He is my hor-." I was interrupted as I saw two bodies stirring frantically against each other. Their moans, invading the stables. "Wh-." A hand covered my mouth while another dragged me off the stables. Dylan and I ran under the rain, getting as far as possible from the horses' house.

Both of us gawked at each other in astonishment. "Maybe my eyes deceived me. However, I believe that was Harold?" He seemed as shocked as me.

"They did not trick you." I gulped. "May I add that woman was my mother?"

His eyes widened even more. "T-The Queen?" I nodded my head. "I am so sorry, my Lady."

"I am not angered by the fact she was committing adultery! I know my father is no saint." I gritted my teeth. "I am mad by the fact she lives a miserable life. In which she had to marry a man she does not love, and she wants to impose the same duty on me!" My hands reached my hair, fingers clutching it. "It is not fair for her to desire the same dull and cruel life for me!" Dylan kept quiet, allowing me to rant. "Why must not I experience falling in love with someone? I crave to be touched by adoring hands, not dirty ones that will not care about my desires and will expect for an heir to be conceived." I sighed. "I ache to live that romance until the day I die." I let my posture fall, whining. "Why cannot I be kissed by someone truly interested in me? Why cannot I be touched by someone who desi-."

My speech was interrupted as Dylan's hands rested on my cheeks. His lips were tightly pressed against mine. I have read how a kiss was mostly controlled by the fight of tongues, aspiring to be the dominant one. But this was just a simplistic kiss.

"Oh my-." His eyes widened as my mouth fell open. "I apologize for my behaviour. I do not know what came over my mind for me to-." My hands were now covering his cheeks as I bought him closer. My lips were awkwardly pressed against his. He separated from me, blinking dumbfoundedly. "Close your eyes." I did. "Open your mouth a little, my Lady." His thumb drew my lower lip downwards. As he got closer, I felt his tongue stroking my bottom lip.

My hands were pushed against his chest as I gripped his white shirt between my fingers. One of his hands had to wander to my lower back as my legs shook. His tongue was now grinding against mine, and not knowing what to do, I mimicked his actions. My mouth instinctively melted against his.

"You will be the death of me, my Lady." He held me closer. His right hand, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Literally."

The following day, I walked to the great hall, confident enough not to knock on the door before stepping inside. My mother seemed shocked to be interrupted by my presence, as she gripped the teacup tighter.

Harold wandered behind me, fear written all over his features as he had never seen me disrespecting my mother in such a way.

I gestured for the cello man to leave the room, which he quickly did, not even daring to glance at my mother. "How dare you to come inside in such a-."

"I will not get married." I interrupted her, something I have never done before. I had been informed by my brother that there was a powerful candidate for me to marry. A 52-year-old man. "I will not marry someone I do not love, and even less a 52-year-old King just for our countries to be at peace."

"You have no say on it."

"Mother, do you want me to live the same life as you?" I ventured to ask. "Do you want me to marry a man who will sleep with every servant or woman that crosses his way while my future children will have to suffer the consequences too? A boy that ought to follow the rules of a King until he becomes a tyrant. And a girl who ought to have to act as demanded. Merely for the young male of the family to be even more respected?"

"As I sai-."

"Will I be like you then, mother?" My lower lip trembled. "Will I be cold-hearted towards my children, towards my daughter? Will I have to submit her to the same shameful life as me?" I did not let Harold intervene. "Will I have to close my eyes to true love and consume my infatuation with the person I truly love in some dirty stable?" Both of them were shocked by my words. "You are preparing and forcing me to the life you both have. I do not want to hide from the public eye and keep the person I cherish a secret."

"If this is about that paint-."

"He has nothing to do with this." I did not appreciate the way she spoke about Dylan. "I have openly expressed my discomfort about marrying someone I do not love since I recollect. I understand romance books do not happen in real life. But love does, and marrying someone for my brother's throne is not love." I sighed. "It is not fair for us, women, to be treated like this while men are approached like that!"

She surprisingly glanced at me for a couple of seconds before her sober expression appeared once again. "Every King marries the women they choose. We cannot decide. Every King has bastard children." I had to remind myself that Alexander and Victoria were the children of one of our servants. "Even your brother is going to have a bastard child." I furrowed my eyebrows as it was the first time hearing that news. "Rosetta." A disgusted expression decorated my face.

"Well," I breathed deeply.  "Destiny can be changed." I recited the same words Dylan had told me once. "It might be scary or go against the rules. But destiny can be changed by the decisions you make. Only you are the sailor of the ship." I glimpse at Harold. "I am tired of not being the sailor of my ship." I softened my voice. "Think about it, mother. I will do everything in my power to get out of here, even if it means dying in the process." For the first time in my life, my teary eyes were met with the glistening tears that invaded my mother's eyes. "I will be in my chambers. Please do not bother me at all."

When arriving to my bedroom, I did not expect to see Dylan waiting inside. I locked the door behind me as my eyes examined his entire body.

"Are you all right, my Lady?" He showed the briefcase he was squeezing between his fingers. "Rosetta told me to wait here for you. Since we could not continue with the portrait this morning, I assumed that perhaps, we could tonight."

"Let's escape together." My mouth seemed to move on its own. However, Dylan stared at me with complete confusion decorating his features.

"My Lady, I do not think I understand what you are trying to imply." He knew.

"I have told you before I do not plan on marrying someone whom I do not love." I walked to my bed, sitting down on the mattress. "It has been decided without letting me know that I will get married to the King of Hiraeth."

He glanced down at the floor for a couple of seconds to later shift his gaze on my direction. "Perhaps he is not only a noble because of his blood. Perhaps he is also noble at heart."

"It does not matter if he is noble at heart or not," I answered decisively. "He is a 52 year-old-man! And as I said before, someone I do not love!"

He sighed. "My Lady," Resting his briefcase on the floor, he pulled a chair to sit in front of me. Though, he maintained the distance. "If I am not wrong, you have never met this man before. You might end up fallin-."

"Do not dare to say that!" I got up from the bed, eyes flickering. "Please, do not be like the rest of those who live in this palace! The first time you came here, you told me I could change my fate." He swallowed, nodding his head. "That is what I am trying to do." My hands were squeezing the skirts of my dress. "Please."

"I cannot take you anywhere, my Lady. You are the Princess of Onism. Everyone in town knows the beauty you behold." He coughed while deeply looking into my eyes. "I do not know anyone that will keep the secret of you being in to-."

"You are not understanding me, Dylan." I tried to ignore the way his body shivered every time my tongue and lips worked together to create his name. "I know I told you that I have never experienced love." I bit my lower lip, taking a breath. "I only know what I have read in books." He nodded his head, waiting for me to continue. "But I understand my feelings. Even before the day we kissed under the rain, I was already attracted to you."

"Attraction is something that can be felt many-."

I stepped closer, making him glance up. "It was attraction, I admit." Both of my hands navigated towards my back. "But my heart beats madly, whenever you are near me, whenever I glance at you or when I think about you." He got up from his chair, slightly stepping back. "I am utterly sure that I am in love with a man who worries about me and my feelings. Someone who has been encouraging me and that has seen my fears."

"My Lady," He gulped. "I truly feel honoured to be inside your mind and heart. I will not lie as I do also feel the same towards you." When I moved closer, he prevented me. "But you are a Princess, and I am just a simple man who paints in exchange for food and a roof." He blinked fastly. "I cannot give you the life you might expect." He offered me a side-smile. "And of course, our relationship would not be approved by the King and Queen." His voice turned softer. "Neither by the soon-to-be King of Onism."

"I do not care!"

"But I do, my Lady." He breathed deeply. "I do not want you to live a life where people will insult and degrade you plainly because you married a penniless man, or because you did not obey the established rules of the members of the royalty."

"I already have that life, where I am discredited just because I am a woman." This time when I stepped closer, he did not back away. "I already have to follow settled rules for the sake of my brother." My hands were still behind my back, and I finally decided to let them untie. He did not notice yet. "But now I have found someone who makes me feel something I have never experienced before." I sighed. "What did you do to me, Dylan?" He opened his mouth. "My mind and heart are full of you, and they constantly demand my body to be filled by you too."

His neck and cheeks turned red as he seemed to have difficulties while swallowing his spit. His eyes shifted around the room, trying to decide what to do. "My Lady," He sighed in desperation. His hands travelling through his body while he clenched it and gritted his teeth. "I truly have been trying to hold back." His hands now grazed his face. "I have been trying to hide how in love I am with you as I am just someone who does not deserve you."

"You are the man who deserves me the most." The shoulders of my dress fell, displaying my bare skin. His eyes widened even more. "And you do not have to hold back anymore." Finally, the cloth fell onto the ground. "I have read so many things, but I have never thought of experiencing them." I felt embarrassed by revealing such a matter. "I could not hold my hands from exploring my body for the first time as your image was in my mind."

"You did?" I nodded my head. His eyes had never left mine, not even to peer at my underwear. A rush of confidence seemed to hasten through him as he walked to the door, securing it. "Show me." My expression must have confused him. "Show me how you did it."

It was my turn to gulp as I got on my mattress, lying down on my back. I was slightly sitting thanks to the pillow, which granted me to discern Dylan as he shuffled closer to the end of the bed.

My bralette was already off, but his eyes still fixed on mine. "You can look." As soon as those words came out of my mouth, his eyes glanced down at my chest. It seemed like he had complications breathing.

My hands gently travelled down, gripping the sides of my underwear and slowly bringing them down my legs. The chilly air was a contrast of temperature to my entire body. I shifted my legs to completely discard my panties, which ended up someplace on the ground.

I permitted my fingers to touch the bundle of nerves, suffering a chill through my body that reminded me of that time in the bathtub, or the following times where I could not restrain my needs. Rubbing on circles, my other hand went to my mouth, biting on it not to make any sound.

"That is how you did it?" I nodded my head. "Until you exploded?" Again, I acknowledged with my head. "My Lady. Has any man touch you in such a way?" Shaking my head, he offered me a smile. "May I be the first one to do so?" I nodded my head, which he did not seem to like. "Please, use your words."

"I do," I did not hesitate. "I do want to be touched by you, Dylan."

"I might die right now, my Lady." He wandered closer. His hands slowly discarded his dark blue beret. Then, his fingers rapidly unbuttoned his white shirt, which had some dark little stains due to his paintings. His body was fit, enough to make a woman drool. I must say, he seemed broader than what I have imagined. "Have you ever introduced your fingers inside?"

I shook my head.

I hear the sound of his shoes falling to the ground as he kneeled on the end of the bed. His right hand moved my left hand from my clit, leading it to his hair. "Hold on tight, my Lady." Not sure of his next actions, I shivered as his breath hit my heated core. His tongue peeked out from his mouth, gently grazing my centre.

I gripped his soft hair between my fingers, making his gaze shift to look deep into my eyes. His tongue lapped, adding pressure on my clit. I whined as his tender tongue left my core to slid down and up a couple of times, extending my wetness all over my intimate part.

I was utterly surprised when the tip of his tongue ended up inside me, and he seemed to noticed as he grounded it against my walls. His right hand slowly left my thigh, where his grip had been tough. "I will be gentle." His whispers were almost unnoticeable as my moans were louder, feeling one of his warm fingers getting coated by my juices as he introduced it, inside my vagina. "Does it feel good?" Without waiting for an answer, he started thrusting it. His lapping tongue and his thrusting finger, producing a drooling combination.

"Oh my god," The candles that were lit, and resting on the table next to my bed seemed to flatter by a scene hotter than their flames. "Faster, please." I must not lie. Introducing his second finger on me had provided a slight pain. But seconds later, it had been replaced by an unbelievable pleasure. "Please do not make me beg."

"I would like to see you beg, my Lady." His mouth had left my clit, chin dripping with my fluids. "I would love to see you beg under the light of the candles while no one else knows that you are getting the love and passion you deserve." His fingers made a wet sound when they left my insides. I could not help but whine as he got farther from my body but became expectant when his fingers played with his belt.

As soon as he slid his pants down his legs, I could not help but moan again. There was a bulge between his legs, and I could not help but get flustered thinking about having him inside me. However, I was quite worried about his size as he already seemed thick through his pants.

I remembered a scene from a book where this girl had her first experience with her childhood friend. They had become lovers and decided to consume their love on top of the counter of the protagonist's kitchen. Her description of the scene was incredibly detailed. And even though my body had become more heated while reading it, I could not help but be worried when she described the experience as feeling as if she was getting 'ripped', which was quite vulgar but exciting in an unusual way.

I had been distracted by my thoughts, as to when I realized my rounds, Dylan's member was finally free. It stood tall and thick against his stomach. He could not help but contain his grin as I gasped.

"I never-."

"I know, my Lady." His hands grabbed my ankles, calmly making their way to my thighs, which he squeezed while separating my legs even more. "I am utterly happy to be the first and only man to make love to you." Uh? "I will take care of you for the rest of my life." His eyes looked deep into mine, asking for permission for his next movements and actions. Of course, I nodded.

He grabbed his shaft, his hand circling it while he thrust into his clenched fist a couple of times. He left if free, spitting on his hand to later grab his member again, lubricating it.

"I am a little scared," I confessed, shifting my gaze to his face. "You are so thick and long. H-How is that supposed to fit inside-."

"We can stop if you want, my Lady." One of his thumbs caressed one of my thighs. "There is no rush and enough time to do this whenever you feel ready."

"I do want to do it! I am just a little scared." I gulped, glancing down at his member. "Could you maybe go slowly?"

He nodded his head, getting closer and placing a peck on my lips. "Whatever you wish for, my Lady." Asking for permission again, he waited until it was granted, for the tip of his member to graze the lips of my vagina. "Here I go." He started adding pressure. Until the entire tip was inside, making me gasp. "Sh, breathe." His right hand went to my tummy, caressing it. "We can go slower."

I nodded my head as I took deep breaths, ignoring the tears that were falling from the corner of my eyes. A couple of minutes went by when I decided that the pain had become a pleasure. I shifted my hips toward Dylan. I was right as there was only pleasure. "Dylan, please," I whined. "Please move."

His entire member was inside me, and Dylan's thrusts had become steady and swift. His mouth was travelling from my jaw to my lips, sometimes stopping to ask for my well-being.

One of his hands left my hips, going between our bodies as he started circling my clit, adding more pleasure. "Oh my gosh," I raised my voice, not being able to hold back the incredible feeling. "Lord, please go faster." I circled my legs around his hips, bringing him closer if it was possible. His member, hitting places that it could not reach before. Wails of satisfaction came out of my mouth. "Please, fuck me harder."

He seemed quite shocked by my choice of words as his eyes widened. But he had seemed to enjoy them too, as his thrusts became even faster and sloppier. "I will not last long." He groaned, not afraid of expressing his pleasure while his lips grazed my ear. "I have been dreaming of this for so long." His moans made my entire body shiver. His right hand, circling my clit even faster. "Please, my Lady. Tell me you are close. Please."

"I am!" I drowned my screams while biting his shoulder. "I am so close." His left hand travelled to my left nipple, toying with it. The different stimulations, getting me dizzy while my vision became blurry. And I came undone under Dylan's body.

Reading was nothing like experiencing it.

My breath was laborious. Dylan stayed inside, thrusting a couple of times more until he quickly came out, thrusting in his clenched fist. He was going to finish soon. His eyes, questioning where to explode. My hands went to my breasts, holding them together.

Dylan's eyes widened as he understood what I was implying. He moved, his hips getting closer as his dick ended up being embraced by my breasts. I held them in place while he thrust, moaning at the contact. His tip, hitting my chin and lower lip. He did not last much longer, exploding and cumming all over my chin and lower lip.

He gasped, our bodies full of sweat. "I made a mess. I am so sorry, my L-." My tongue peeked out of my mouth, licking some of the cum that was resting on my lower lip. "I-. Oh, gosh." His lips settled up against mine. His tongue, parting my lips so his tongue could slowly dance against mine. "Did it feel good?"

"It felt amazing." I was still trying to breathe at a regular pace.

He kissed my forehead, leaving the bed and wandering to the bathroom. His member was still lightly hard. But he quickly gave me the view of his butt.

When he came back, he was gripping a towel. Sitting on the side of the bed, he slowly cleaned his release from my chin and chest. Then, folding it, he cleaned between my legs. He was cautious, trying not to hurt me as my entire body was sensitive. Next, he discarded the towel.

His body fell on the bed next to mine. We both gazed into each other's eyes with foolish smiles decorating our faces. "I do not want to leave. But night curfew will be soon."

"I do not care." I wrapped my sore body against him, breathing in. "Stay here. Nobody will know. You can leave early in the morning." I did not notice I was pouting until his lips pecked mine. Then, the rest of the night was a cuddling blur as exhaustion took over our bodies.

Another couple of days had gone by, and it was nearly impossible to keep our hands for ourselves. Dylan had been sleeping in my chambers, which was difficult to hide. I had been ignoring my mother and Harold as much as possible. And thankfully, my brother was away in a political meeting with my father. We had also continued the portrait sessions, which sometimes ended with our bodies full of paint as we could not hold back for holding each other.

I must confess that there had been sexual escapes around the palace, which was a surprise, as we did not get caught yet. Momentarily, Dylan's boxers were around his ankles like his pants as I was grabbing the skirts of my dress.

My face and chest were pressed against the wall of a tiny room while he thrust in me from behind. "Ah, we will get caught." He whispered but did not stop his movements. "You are going to be the death of me, my Lady."

We had been walking around the castle until I could not hold back myself anymore. I took Dylan's hand, going inside a tiny room that, it is used, for cleaning materials. Therefore, we were fucking as fast as we could, aiming for a release. "Please, go deeper!"

"I believe I am as immersed as I can, my Lady." The sound of our skin slapping against each other turned both of us on even more.

We both were close to our release. But we were rudely interrupted by the door of the room opening, showing Rosetta and Harold, who stared at us with surprise written all over their faces.

Dylan quickly came out of me, pulling his boxers and pants up while I let the skirts of my dress fall.

"Harold," I started. "Please, do not say anything." My eyes begged. "Could you please give us five minutes and wait in my chambers?" Without saying anything, they closed the door. "Oh my god."

"It is okay, my Lady." Fear was visible in his face and voice.

I was baffled as when entering my chambers, my mother was there, next to Harold. He ignored my gaze, staring deep into Dylan's eyes.

"Mother-."

"I told you!" She did not hesitate to raise her voice. "I know you did not choose to be a princess, but this is what we have to deal with." I could not protest. "I am not trying to make you miserable. I was trying to avoid a situation like this where this young man," Surprisingly, she did not glare at the young man next to me, who was squeezing my hand. "And you will be in danger!" She sighed. "Imagine if it was your father or brother finding you two! They arrived early this morning!" I did not know about their arrival. "He would have killed him and make you watch." I gasped, getting teary. "I did not want you guys to end as I did."

"What?" I asked while being overwhelmed by confusion.

"Your mother," Harold decided to spoke as my mother had to seat on the end of my bed, trying to calm herself. "She fell in love with a servant of this palace, way before you were born." Dylan and I were pretty interested in the story. "You do not choose who you love, my Lady." He shifted his gaze between the two of us. "However, keeping such a secret was complicated. And eventually, someone found out." His hand rested on my mother's back. "Unfortunately, the one that discovered them passionately kissing in the gardens was your father." I gulped while swaying closer to Dylan, searching for his warmth. "He executed him right there, in front of your mother."

"Those white roses used to be red." My mother's voice shook while she referred to those planted in our garden. "It was so repulsive to see that his blood mattered nothing when for me mattered the world. He was my world." She offered us a sad smile. "No one mourned for his loss except me. His body was taken away by other servants in uncaring behaviour. His blood could not be seen, because it had splattered on the flowers that had the same tone." She wept, trying to breathe and calm herself to continue. "It was as if he had never existed. I thought I had gone crazy, and I had imagined the love and the man that I desired to have."

"Mother," My eyes were teary. "I am so sorry that happened to you, and now, I understand you tried to protect me." I glimpsed at Harold for a couple of seconds. "But this is just throwing me into a deeper hole. I will end up in a similar situation to yours, and my children will be doomed, to the same cruel fate." I was desperate. "Mother, destiny can be changed." Dylan was looking at me, a tiny smile on his face while he rubbed one of my freezing hands.

"I have seen you grow up," Harold intervened. "I have learnt every one of your moves, understanding when you wanted to cry or laugh." He grinned, crossing his arms. "Deep inside, I knew one day you would want to fight from the established and dull life you are supposed to live."

"He spoke to me." My mother continued. "Harold opened my eyes, and he taught me to perceive that you were falling in love with this young man." She bowed at Dylan, and he returned the same gesture. "And I perceived that this young man was falling in love with you too."

"Your father and brother lied of their whereabouts." Harold stepped closer. "They bought with them a visitor."

My mother shifted closer to us. "It is the King of Hiraeth." She gulped. "The 52 year-old-man that they expect to marry you with."

"No," I shook my head. "Please, mother." I could not stop the tears from falling down my cheeks. "Please, mother. Do not let them do that. Please. Please." Before I could fall to my knees, my mother held her hand up, offering me a brown bag.

"It is yours now." My mother replied, sliding the bag into my hands. "This will help both of you." Money, there was a lot of gold inside the bag. Dylan was looking inside the container with wide eyes as I did. "If I had stolen money from your father, he would have noticed. Therefore, I bargained my jewellery." Her hand unconsciously went to her neck, and I noticed her diamond necklace missing.

"Here," Harold extended his arm, offering us a piece of paper. Dylan clutched it. It was a map. "That black circle is your shared property. It is a near kingdom, not too far from here but enough for you two to be safe and not be recognized, as the Princess of Onism."

"What?" My mouth was agape.

"It is Elysian. It is a small town full of life, and it is secure." Harold explained with a smile. "It is your new home. The money will help you guys for a couple of years, but of course, my Lady, you will have to get used to a life without servants and luxuries. However, I do not have any doubt that you will be able to adapt to such a life."

"Then," I glanced at my mother. "You are helping me escape?"

"I am helping both of you leave." She cried. "I am helping you get out of the life you did not choose and the one you do not desire." I turned around to stare at Dylan, who had tears running down his cheeks while smiling at me. He shyly pecked my forehead. He wiped his tears while bowing again, staying in that position for a couple of seconds. "No, no, please stand up." He did. "We are family now. Please take care of my little girl."

"I will, your highness." His words sounded so confident that it made my heart beat violently.

"W-What about you two?" I glanced between them. "Are you coming with us?" I was expectant to hear their answer.

My mother shook her head. "We did change our destiny." She referred to the present situation. "Do not worry about us."

"But-."

"My Lady," Harold took me into his arms, embracing me. "Escaping is more complex for us. But do not worry, because we will end up getting away from here. One day, we will." He smiled at me. "For now, Arden is prepared to take you both far from Onism tonight."

I nodded my head. "Take care of my mother, and thank you for being like a father to me." After squeezing him, I quickly hugged my mother. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

Before they left my room, my mum turned around. "Dylan is your name, right?" He nodded his head. "I viewed the portrait. It looks marvellous. Take it with you." He was perplexed. "The portrait was for the man that will marry her. That man is you, so that portrait belongs to you."

"I bought gifts!" I overheard two squeals, rolling my eyes with a foolish smile, adorning my features. Two tiny figures ran to the owner of the voice. "Perhaps you both only love me when I bring presents."

"Perhaps they do." I walked closer to the man, whose beautiful smile was aimed, at me. My right hand gripped his arm, a signal for him to lower his head so I could peck his lips. "Welcome home. I made your favourite dish." My lips had trapped his bottom one between mines for a couple of seconds, making him whine lowly.

He seemed to be dumbfounded while pecking my lips a couple of times until our children interrupted the moment with their excitement to know what their father had brought them. "Well," He chuckled. "I bought my little princess this!" He took a stuffed animal from his coffee-coloured bag. Charlotte squealed and giggled while running around the room with her new plaything. "And I bought my not-so-little prince," He remembered how our little boy did not want to be named as a child anymore. "This." He showed him a new brand book, which cover was of a dark blue with golden touches.

Thomas could not help but grin. "This book was printed a couple of days ago! Thank you so much, father!" He tightly hugged his dad. "Perhaps I could bring it with me to the Addington's home?" He could not help but jump around due to his excitement. "I believe Newt will love it too!"

Dylan nodded his head. "Take care fo your sister, please."

The Addington's were a young family of five that lived next door. We were constantly inviting each other over to our homes, wanting the kids to play together. We, the adults, were also mates. A couple of times, we babysit each other's kids to have privacy with our respective partners.

As soon as the kids were out of the door, Dylan's briefcase had fallen to the ground. He had been away for an entire week due to a commission of a portrait where he would earn a lot of money.

His hands were caressing my entire body as we both tried to make our way to our shared chamber, in hopes of continuing the passion there. "I have missed you so much, my Princess."

My fingers moved quickly, trying to untie the dress I was wearing. My hands were sweaty, and Dylan must have noticed as he ended up unlacing my attire. "I am not a Princess anymore."

He swallowed, eyes focused on my breasts as I was not wearing a bralette. Both of his warm hands slid up, cupping my bosom. His fingers grazed my nipples while his entire hands squeezed the rest. "You are right." His gaze shifted to my lips. "You are the queen of my heart now, my Lady." That name had stayed since the very beginning, and every time it came rolling gently out of his lips, my undergarments got drenched.

"I will explode right here, Dylan." I moaned as my hands were busy sliding down his pants while he worked on his jacket and shirt. "I have missed having you around. And being around you."

He groaned, slipping one of his hands behind my back as he squeezed my buttocks. I whined when he pinched it. "You seem to be so desperate for me."

"That smirk," I grinned while kissing his bottom lip. "Perhaps you are as desperate as me." I glanced down as I spotted his hard bulge against my front.

"I am not as needy as you are, my Lady." The last word was said sensually, making my legs shake.

"I am sure you are as needy as me, Sir." It was that word for him. I could feel the temperature of his body rising.

"What does my queen require from such a humble servant?" He acted while sprawling my body down on the bed. His hands, gripping the sides of my panties, bringing the down and discarding them. "Maybe she needs help down here?" One of his fingers ran up and down, collecting my fluids. He did not hesitate to bring that finger into his mouth, savouring it. "My Lady, perhaps I should confess that you taste like Heaven, itself."

His face leaned closer to my core, but I immediately stopped him. He glimpsed at me, confused. "I want to be the one giving you as much pleasure as possible." Sitting down on the bed, my hands pushed against his chest until he was the one lying on his back.

I questioned myself when he had taken his boxers off as his member sprang free, hitting his tummy. Pre-cum was decorating his pink tip while sometimes, you could see it palpitating as the veins were tightening.

My right hand started working immediately, grabbing his shaft while going up and down. I softly squeezed it as his arm rested on top of his forehead, blissfully. My thumb stayed on the tip, playing with the tiny drops of pre-cum.

"Gosh, are you an angel?" His words wavered as my left hand cupped his balls, lightly tugging on them. "My Lady, I need your mouth, please." I attended his demands, my left hand still playing with his balls.

However, my mouth was also sucking on the lowest part of his member. Licking my way up, my mouth embraced the tip of his dick. His hands went through my hair, settling on grasping it forcefully and guiding me down until his entire thick member was inside my mouth.

His moans got louder as his hips could not hold back, shifting upwards, choking me as his tip scraped the back of my throat. "My Lady." Glancing upwards, I could see the sweat falling down his forehead. His entire body was sweating, especially the part of his chest with a spot of hair.

I sucked harder, preventing my teeth from grazing his delicate member. "May I come inside your mouth, my Lady?" Humming against his dick, he seemed to understand my permission. A couple of hard thrusts that chocked me and he was cumming down my throat, spilling a big load. His breath was laborious as his hands caressed my hair back. "Please, ride me."

He whined when his member lost the warmth of my mouth as I shifted my body to position myself on top of him. My left hand was resting against his chest. My other hand, grabbing his still firm member. "May I?" He nodded his head. As soon as he was filling me up, both of us became a moaning mess. "Ah, I felt so empty without your dick inside me."

His hands instantly clutched my hips as he encouraged me to bounce on top him. "You look so ravishing while you bounce on my dick." I moaned, loving his dirty talk. "I could do this every day. I love how your breasts bounce while you are getting stretched by my dick." He gulped. "They have got even bigger after you had our beautiful children." His right hand slapped my ass. "Listen," I ceased my moans as I heard the slapping sounds of our skins. "You are so wet for me, my Lady. Your pussy demands to hold my dick."

Both of my hands were now resting against his chest. "I am going to explode." The hand that was on my ass moved to the front, flicking my clitoris. "You fill me up so good, Sir!"

"I will fill you even more soon." He groaned, sitting down so he could move me closer to my body. Our mouths, touching in an open kiss. "I am going to release my entire load inside you. I am going to impregnate you, my Lady." I moaned. "You want that, right?" His thrusts became sloppier and harder. "You want to get filled and carry another gorgeous baby." I nodded my head. "You are as irresistible while pregnant. The way you cannot keep your hands to yourself. The way your bosom gets even bigger."

"Please, fill me."

No more words needed to be said as our teeth clattered against each other, riding our highs together. My vision got blurry, and my moans louder as I felt all of his huge load filling me up. "Oh, fuck me, my Lady. You take my load so good." The rest was full of kisses and warm under the sheets. His member had softened inside me.

On one of the walls of our chambers, there was a portrait of my younger self. She resembled grave and upset. Her composture seemed forced, but around her body, there were flames. Sparks that represented the passion she badly wanted to share. The adventures she wanted to live. There was a yellow light, which seemed, to be connected to her heart.

Dylan had described a young lady who aspired to live a passionate life. A young woman whose heart and mind were full of hope.

There was a lovely detail on the portrait. On the wall behind the young girl, there was a mirror, where you could perceive a young Dylan, examining the woman before him with a peculiar shining light on his eyes. The identical light young Y/N had while looking at Dylan O'Brien, the humble painter who shared the 'fictional' love she always wanted to experience.The love they both found and fancied.

Yes, destiny could be changed.

.

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Those who asked to be tagged. Thank you for showing interest: 

@og-baby-ob14​ - @sweetest-serpent01​ - @tovvaa​ - @jazminebrightxx​ - @sonnydoesrandomshit​ - @badgyal-barbie​ - @trustfundparker​ - @blueraindrops​ 

[starlost-andfound]

ethereal // corbyn besson

summary - in which corbyn and y/n go to an award show but y/n’s anxieties and insecurities begin to get to her.

warnings: body imaging, low self esteem, descriptions of the most cliché dress used in fics ever, flufffyyyy corbyn, sweetheart corbyn

word count: approximately 2.2 K

a/n: idk if I like this one but here- 

A/n+: not proofread at all rip, you have been warned

Y/n stood in front of the mirror, her eyes traced her form, holding an underlying hint of disgust. The dress she wore was a silky navy blue coloured fabric which hugged her curves and flowed down to her feet. A slit which y/n saw as too daring for her, ran down her thigh and down to her feet, exposing the figure she wanted to hide.

She sighed quietly, turning to her side to examine her figure. Her fingers pressed against her waist, nearly pushing her to the brink of crying as her eyes continued to pick at the uneven curves on her hips pressing against the dress. A quiet knock on the door and y/n tilted her head.

“May I come in, my Lady?”

Y/n put herself together, smiling as she replied, “Yes, you may.”

The door pulled open and Corbyn stepped in, dressed in his own navy blue suit, matching y/n, for the night. He walked over to her, wrapping his hands gently around her waist.

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Hey,” y/n avoided direct eye contact with Corbyn through the reflective glass, “How do I look? Do I look okay?”

Corbyn gasped softly, “Okay?”

“Darling, you look ethereal,” he breathed.

“Corbyn,” y/n dragged.

Corbyn craned his head forward, placing a kiss on her cheek, “What?”

He rested his head on her shoulder, gently swaying them from side to side, “I’m serious baby, you look beautiful tonight.”

Y/n smiled softly, trying to find any validation from the words he spoke, “Thank you, so do you.”

Corbyn tisked softly, “Thank you, Miss y/n, but don’t let me steal the show, it’s all you tonight.”

Y/n only smiled in response as she finished her final touch ups. Corbyn sat down patiently on their bed, watching her in admiration. He could sense that she hadn’t been herself lately. She seemed more quiet, more reserved. He had hoped that it was just the anxiety of the show tonight, which he felt too. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it exactly until just moments ago when y/n asked how she looked.

His calm outer expression contrasted to the buzzing thoughts in his head. How could you not notice? How long has y/n been feeling like this? Why didn’t she talk to you about this?

The car ride to the venue was quiet. Corbyn held y/n’s hand in his as he drove. When the lights turned red, he paused, taking a moment to observe y/n who gazed silently out the window. His fingers brushed her knuckles and he pulled her hand up to kiss the back of her palm.

The car rolled up just a few blocks behind the front steps of the carpet at the valet parking where the band agreed to meet. Corbyn stopped the car and turned to y/n. His hand reached over to caress her cheek, “You okay?”

Y/n hummed, leaning against his palm.

“I love you,” he whispered with a smile.

“I love you,” y/n leaned forward and they shared a kiss before exiting the car. Corbyn passed the keys to the valet, speaking a few words with him before they approached the boys, all dressed in suits, a few with their plus one’s. The group shared a few conversations, before their manager Jon came. Corbyn’s eyes frequently fell to y/n who seemed detached from her interactions. This time, Corbyn didn’t miss how focused she was on the other girls in the group, noting their different form.

“Everyone ready to go?”

Corbyn looked up as their manager walked to the group and the boys nodded, fixing their suits. They made their way to the red carpet. Corbyn held y/n’s hand, giving it a small squeeze.

“Ready?”, he asked.

“I hope so,” y/n whispered as they stepped onto the long red fabric which stretched across to the entrance of the venue. They were immediately overcome by the flashing lights of cameras across the carpet and calls from the camera people.

“Corbyn over here!”

“Boys, give us a smile! Over here!”

Y/n’s grip on Corbyn’s hand tightened and Corbyn brushed his fingers across her knuckles to calm her. His hand slipped out of hers and wrapped comfortingly around her waist, pulling her closer as they moved along the carpet. Y/n looked down and at Corbyn, avoiding the prying eyes of the cameras.

Once they were inside, Corbyn noticed how y/n’s posture instantly relaxed but she didn’t say much. Even as everyone settled down and a light conversation broke across the boys and their dates on the table. Corbyn watched y/n, concern laced in his expression. When the award show started, his feeling was briefly pulled away as everyone focused on the events on the stage.

Hosts presented the show, and performances were held, yet y/n seemed to be stuck in her head. A round of applause was held after a performance finished and Corbyn’s eyes instinctively fell to y/n, that was one of her favourite singers. He frowned, watching as she barely clapped before looking back down at her lap and zoning out.

He took a deep breath, contemplating his next step. Corbyn leaned forward, whispering in y/n’s ear.

“Follow me out in 2 minutes.”

Y/n tilted her head, confused, but she barely had the time to respond before Corbyn slipped out of his chair and walked towards the back of the hall. Y/n waited a moment, looking around, as though someone would watch her, judgmentally. She picked up her bag, following Corbyn’s path to the back.

Corbyn waited there, past the tables, the chairs and the cameras; in the silent dimly lit hall. He smiled softly as y/n came.

“Where are we going?”, y/n whispered.

Corbyn lifted his finger to his mouth and gestured for her to follow him. He held her hand as he walked towards the bathrooms.

Y/n halted and tugged his hand back as they neared the stalls, “Corbyn. Seriously?!”

Corbyn shook his head from side to side, “No, not that. Just follow me.”

Corbyn continued to walk, taking y/n with him. He took a right just in front of the stalls, leading to another door. They walked past the door into a small hallway. Y/n looked past Corbyn at the two sets of doors that laid ahead. A sign above read “Exit”.

“Corbyn..,” y/n trailed off uneasily, “Are you sure we can leave?”

Corbyn shrugged calmly as they neared the door, “No one said we can’t...besides,” he turned to her, “It was clear you didn’t want to be there and I hated seeing you like that.”

Y/n smiled softly, her heart warming. Corbyn stepped forward, opening the door for her, “Come on.”

Y/n followed, the cold air pricking at her skin as they left the building. The couple made their way to the valet parking, the area now clear of most of the camera men. As Corbyn called for his car, y/n stood silently behind him watching. A shiver creeped on her skin and she trembled, wrapping her arms around herself.

Corbyn returned to her, noting her uncomfortability and he took off his blazer, placing it on her, “Here, put this on.”

Y/n looked up, thanking him quietly with a soft peck to his cheek, before wearing the blazer. The car pulled up and Corbyn opened the passenger side door, “After you, my Lady.”

Y/n giggled, stepping into the car and Corbyn shut the door, heading to the other side. Corbyn drove out of the area, taking a different route out.

“Where we heading?”, y/n asked, leaning on her side to look at him.

Corbyn glanced at y/n briefly before turning back to the road, “Home.”

Y/n smiled, “I like the sound of that.”

Y/n didn’t bring up anything else during the ride, and Corbyn kept to himself, giving her the time to sort out her thoughts. A sudden buzz from Corbyn’s phone turned y/n’s head as she saw the name displayed on the screen, “Jon is calling.”

“Management,” y/n said, her eyes drifting to Corbyn, “Corbyn you should be there.”

Corbyn reached down, turning his phone off, “It’s okay, I’d rather be with you.”

Back home, in their room, Corbyn and y/n got ready for bed. They stood side to side, taking their jewellery off.

“Babe,” Corbyn whispered, looking at her through the mirror. “Are you feeling okay?”

Y/n smiled softly, “What do you mean? I’m fine.”

Corbyn sighed, placing his watch to the side, “You’ve just been really quiet and before we left you asked me how you looked?”

Y/n smirked, “I always ask you how I look, Corbyn.”

Corbyn shook his head, “No, this time it was different. I felt it.”

Y/n looked down at the table, stowing away the silver accessories she wore that night, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Corbyn huffed, gently pulling her hands away from what she was doing, “Y/n, look at me.”

Y/n ignored his words, staring in front at his chest, “Babe, I’m being serious, I don’t kno-”

“Y/n,” Corbyn cupped her cheeks, tilting her head to look at him. He nearly fell apart at the sight of the tears building up in her eyes. Y/n whimpered softly and Corbyn’s arms instantly wrapped around her, pulling her close as he soft cry turned into a sob,

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, just let it all go, I’m here.”

Y/n gripped onto Corbyn tightly and he held her, kissing her head as she cried, trying to hold in his own pain in his chest. “I-I’m so-sorry,” she mumbled.

Corbyn frowned, stroking her hair gently, “What for?”

Y/n hugged him tighter, “I-I don’t know, everything’s been a mess and I-I don-don’t know how to tell you and I-” she stuttered, holding back a sob.

“That’s okay,” Corbyn assured, “Sometimes it’s hard to open up about things. What’s been on your mind, my love?”

He pulled back slightly, kissing the forehead of her mascara stained face.

“I-I don’t know I-I-”, y/n paused for a moment, thinking of her next words, “I-I don’t feel beautiful,” she barely whispered.

Corbyn gasped softly, “Y/f/n, my miss universe, my queen, goddess; how could you say that to yourself? Hmm?”

He pecked her lips softly, “What made you feel that way?”

Y/n wiped her cheeks, the soft smile she held from Corbyn’s words instantly fading away.

“I gained some weight and it doesn’t usually bother me but I just don’t like how I look.”, y/n looked down, “Nothing really fits, and today was really bad - I was just so anxious and the dress didn’t fit either-”

Corbyn kissed her forehead again. He brought her hands up to place kisses on each of the knuckles, “Y/n, you were the most beautiful woman in the room tonight. You always will be.”

Y/n sighed shakily, “You don’t mean that.”

Corbyn cupped her cheek, “I mean every word. Don’t let those numbers on the scale define your worth, dear. You are so much more than a cloth size and the number on a weighing scale, okay? And your clothes fit wonderfully, you looked ravishing tonight.”

His thumbs brushed her cheek softly as he continued, “And even if they don’t, so what? We’ll go on a little shopping date and buy you new ones. You are not obliged to fit within the size of your closet.”

Y/n’s lips trembled, “Corbyn,” she mumbled softly.

Corbyn smiled softly, kissing her lips, “And if you still don’t feel beautiful, don’t take that hardly on yourself. You are beautiful, you just don’t believe that yet.” he turned them to the mirror perched on the table. “So beautiful.”

“You really think that?”, y/n asked, resting her head against Corbyn’s chest, eyeing the mascara stains and smudged makeup on her face.

“I’ll always think that and I’ll love you a million times more until you believe that too.”

Y/n sniffled, “Thank you.”

“I’ll always be here for you,” Corbyn hugged her, pulling her close. “Now...what do you say about getting into our PJ’s and going up onto the roof to see the stars?”

Y/n smiled, “I’d like that.”

Corbyn’s face broke into a  grin, “Hey, that’s the pretty smile, I was looking for,” he pecked her lips before they got into their PJ’s. Corbyn grabbed a mat and a blanket to lay out for the both of them as they climbed up onto the roof of the house.

The sky was adorned with countless stars as they laid down, watching the galaxies beyond them. Corbyn held y/n close in his arms as she rested on his chest. He rubbed her shoulder gently, as they laid there, Corbyn occasionally explaining something about the space, pointing out a constellation to y/n. Y/n always heard his rambles on outer space, but she never once got tired of them. She stayed content in his arms, bringing herself closer to him.

“Corbyn,” she mumbled, looking up at him.

Corbyn’s hand fell to her cheek, brushing it gently, “Yes, my love?”

Y/n smiled, “I love you.”

Corbyn leaned down, kissing her forehead, “And I love you, darling.”

_ _ _ 

A/N: HIII you made it to the end <3 Here’s a lil edit I made for this fic which I’m really proud of ft y/n and corbyn at the awards (as I visualised them, at least):

[prismadog]

I wrote another thing. Not great, again, but not bad. It's also gotten a bit long so I'm gonna have to do this in parts otherwise you'll end up reading a fic that's like several "do you love the color of the sky" posts combined.

So, there's at least going to be two parts to this, maybe three if part 2 gets too long, but hopefully it won't.

I should probably also say that this is another Dragon Mom Grian au fic, idk where in the timeline it takes place exactly, but who cares. I was gonna do another Babysitting the Tegg fic but decided to do this one instead. then I'll work on part 2 and maybe something for a new au idea I had where Hermitcraft Grian and 3rd Life Grian swap places.

Making a Nest - Part 1

There’s something wrong with Grian.

All of Boatem could see it. 

He’s quiet, reserved. He’s distracted, absent from any present conversation. He wanders around his cave or he stays cooped up in his house. He doesn’t really go out, not even to prank people.

The only time he ever really seems relatively close to his usual self is when he’s coming to his friends’ rescues or stalking a visitor to the village. But even then, it just isn’t the same.

Grian just isn’t himself.

It is…worrying…to say the least.

So.

So four out of five of the Boatem Crew hold a meeting, a secret meeting, one that doesn’t include their favorite gremlin.

They meet up in Pearl’s mountain basement - Pearl, Scar, Mumbo, and Impulse. Pearl had set up a little area away from the entrance ahead of time, and brought out drinks and snacks - milk and cookies - when the others arrived.

“So…” she starts, not really sure what to say, “Uh, we all know why we’re here, right?”

“Because Grian isn’t Grian?” Mumbo asks.

She nods. “He’s been quiet, more quiet than I’ve ever seen him.”

“I noticed that he’s not making as much progress on his base,” Impulse says. “I thought it was burnout at first but when I talked to him, he just seemed…distant.”

“I don’t think he’s been sleeping much. I’ve seen him from the Swaggon just wanderin around and carrying the egg,” Scar says through a mouthful of cookie. “Even in the middle of the night.”

“He has been carrying it around a lot, and talking to it sometimes,” Mumbo agrees. “I expected that after tag ended, but uh, he’s not as chipper as he was. He’s just, well like Pearl said, quiet.”

“Do we know why he’s like this?” Impulse asks.

They all look at each other, just as clueless as the next.

“Well, it’s not burnout,” Impulse says. “That much I know from when I talked to him.”

“I tried talking to him the other day when he was stocking the train but he didn’t really say much,” Pearl says. “I wanted to do a prank with him but he said he “wasn’t up for it”. That’s weird in of itself so I asked if he was feeling alright and he just shrugged.”

“I thought that too! He almost flew into one of my houses a few days ago.” Mumbo munches on a cookie. “I asked him if he was all right and he just brushed me off.”

Scar hums, taking another cookie for himself. “It’s gotta have something to do with the egg.” He mutters ‘oh shoot’ when drops the cookie in his glass of milk. “Maybe if we all go over and ask, he’ll tell us what’s wrong?” He fishes the drowned cookie out of his glass and shoves the whole thing in his mouth before it falls apart.

“Is that the right thing to do? What if he shuts down on us?”

“If talking to him one on one didn’t work, then we need to go together,” Scar tells Impulse. “Unless we want to ask someone else to talk to him?”

“That’s an idea, I’m sure Xisuma wouldn’t mind talking to him,” Mumbo says, “but maybe we try fixing this ourselves first?”

“Should we go over now?”

Pearl sets down her glass of milk and stands. “Let’s do it and do it now before we chicken out.”

The other three members stand as well and head out of Pearl’s base, discussing quietly on how to approach Grian once they find him.

They still don’t really have a plan when they come across him in his cave, after several minutes of searching.

Grian is sitting near the cave wall on top of one of his buildings - the Magical Menagerie. He has his arms folded on top of the dragon egg in his lap and his eyes closed. His wings, now a dark grey with spots of violet, drape over the tiles of the roof.

“Hey, Grian,” Pearl calls out, landing several feet away. “You awake?”

His dark eyes blink open to look at her. “Yeah,” he replies quietly.

“Mind if we join you?” He only gives her a shrug in response - as good an answer as any, she supposes. She turns towards the alley below, “Hey, guys, up here!”

Seconds later, Impulse joins her on the roof, then Scar who barely misses the glass ceiling, and then Mumbo who stumbles to a landing and almost falls back off. He would have too if Pearl and Impulse didn’t grab his arms.

“So what’s up?” Grian asks, still sitting in his spot. He sounds, and looks, tired.

The rest of the crew looks at each other for a long moment, then Scar steps forward. 

“Well, Grian, glad you asked. We’ve been having a meeting - I know, I know, we didn’t invite you, but there’s a very good reason for that - it was about you. You see, my fine feathered friend, we’ve been worried about you.”

“O…kay?” 

“You’ve been a bit off, Grian,” Impulse says. “For a while now I’d say.”

“You also seem tired, mate. And we’re just, uh, really worried.”

Grian’s wings shift a bit behind him, the feathers fluffing up the smallest amount. “I’m fine, guys,” he says though his voice is low and almost scratchy, as if he’s been sick or hasn’t been talking much. “Maybe a bit tired but I’m fine.”

Pearl takes a step forward, her moth wings unfolding partially behind her, “You’re not fine!” she says, her voice louder than normal but not shouting. “You’re not fine one little bit. You’re not talking to us, you brush us off when we try to ask you what’s wrong, Scar’s seen you up at all hours of the night, Mumbo says you almost flew into his houses, and you don’t want to do any pranks with me.

“We’re really worried, Grian, and we just want to know what’s wrong,” her voice quiets as she says this.

“Please just tell us what’s wrong,” Mumbo says.

“Whatever’s bothering you, we can help,” Impulse says, “We’ll do everything in our power to help you fix whatever’s wrong.”

“Just talk to us, Grian. Please?” Scar asks.

The hermit looks away, at the roof maybe, and his arms encircle the egg, hugging it close to his chest. “I…I don’t know,” he mumbles. “Nothing’s really wrong…exactly…everything’s going well - the train’s making sales, I finished the night sky, I made the buildings, and I’m even starting to fill them.” 

The dark wings shiver behind him and cover his shoulders, almost like a cape. “Everything’s progressing wonderfully,” his voice is still quiet, “Everything’s going great.”

“But?” Impulse asks gently.

He hugs the egg tighter, his wings shift to cover his sides. He doesn’t look at them, at his friends, for a long long moment. “It should’ve hatched by now,” his voice is barely a whisper, barely a breath of air.

The cave is silent again, aside from the mobs that fill the Menagerie of course. 

“Uh, mate, you do know it’s just a, uh, an item right?”

“Mumbo, you can’t say that,” Pearl says. They all know how Grian’s been with the egg, all motherly and protective of it since he got it. They all know that it’s not exactly a normal reaction from their friend, but they can’t just say that or that the dragon egg is just another item of their world, even though it is.

“It’s not,” Grian says over the top of Pearl’s voice. “It’s not just an item,” he says this with absolute certainty, dark eyes almost glaring at the redstoner. “It’s not just an item, it’s not just a trophy, it’s not just a decoration, it’s not just an achievement to be made.” His wings flare slightly, the feathers puffing up. “It is an egg, Mumbo, and it’s supposed to hatch. Eggs are supposed to hatch - the dragon egg is no different.”

Silence.

Absolute silence.

Mumbo chuckles nervously. “R-right, my bad. You’re right.”

Grian stares him down for an uncomfortably long minute, then huffs and turns to look away from everyone. “Of course I am,” he mutters.

“Uh, have you tried making a nest?” Impulse asks. “Birds usually make nests, right?”

At that comment, the hermit practically deflates, and his voice is quiet again, “I tried but I’m no good. They all turn out terrible. I tried making them like birds do but they fell apart. I tried using blankets and pillows but that fell apart too.” He sighs, “no matter what I try, it ends up falling apart and feeling cold and boring and lonely anyway.”

“Maybe we could help?” Scar asks.

“There’s no point,” he mutters, “it’s impossible.” He pulls his wings closer, wrapping them around his body and almost completely blocking the other Boatem crew members from view.

“Well, that sounds like a challenge if I’ve ever heard one,” Pearl says. “If we can break bedrock, then we can build a nest that won’t fall apart or look boring.”

There’s a scoff from behind the dark wings. “Good luck,” Grian mutters with a hint of bitterness in his tone.

“C’mon, boys, we’ve got work to do.” She leaps off the roof and soars away, straight out of the cave.

“We’ll see ya later, G!” Scar follows after Pearl.

Impulse gives him a quiet, “We can figure this out,” and at the same time, Mumbo tells him, “You’ll be chuffed to bits when we do,” and they both drop off the roof and fly after Pearl and Scar.

Grian just sighs heavily once they’re gone. He doesn’t believe them.

*

[jaskiersvalley]

Meet The Parents

Over on The Bog on Discord, there is a cursed Shrek channel. The idea for this fic was encouraged there and, well, 1.5k later, I have so many regrets, this is definitely what I'd call a shrekcident. All I can say is that writing Shrek and Fiona is really really difficult!

@dapandapod, @thecomfortofoldstorries and @fontegagrilledcheese I think you all asked to be tagged when this is up?

Meet The Parents

There had been several letters from back home, suggesting Jaskier return and brings his lovely travelling companion. It was, without a doubt, Jaskier’s mother writing the letters, she had always had a better grasp on courtly things than his father. Truth be told, it was no secret that the Count of Lettenhove absolutely hated ruling and would much rather spend his time out and about. There were several swamps in Lettenhove that he claimed needed his very dedicated attention. The fact Jaskier’s mother went along with him was no surprise. Despite her upbringing, she was quite fond of a swamp or two too.

“It’s another letter,” Jaskier sighed, flicking it into the fire in the inn. “I don’t understand why they are so insistent on me bringing you home. I mean, they’ve never been interested in previous love interests before. Probably because they’ve all held titles and had standards.” Geralt grunted, eyes fixed on the small alchemy set up he had going on the table. It didn’t deter Jaskier as he carried on. “Mother thinks you and father might get on well once you get past the initial shock of meeting.”

“I can’t imagine anyone being over the moon to meet a Witcher. Especially not one that their darling son is fucking.”

“Well, quite. Father had a couple of run ins with Witchers in his youth. Not all of them were pleasant. But I’m sure you can change his mind.” Jaskier hummed to himself as he thought. “Plus Mother was a cursed princess so you might find some common ground with her. And did I mention my uncle? I spent a lot of time with him growing up, he was really patient, letting me learn to walk by clinging to him. Anyway, he and his dragon-”

“Dragon?” Naturally Geralt perked up at that. “You should have started with that. We’re going to Lettenhove.”

Naturally Geralt had assumed the worst. As if anyone related to Jaskier would be able to keep a dragon against her will. His family was just too nice! But Geralt would learn that fact for himself in a few short weeks when they arrived at Jaskier’s ancestral castle. It was a castle, not a mansion, well kept, if a little more shabby than most. There were overgrown bushes around it and Geralt could have sworn the small of a sulphuric swamp drifted on the winds. They marched up the stairs, everything eerily quiet until the door burst open to reveal two menacing figures.

“Ogres!” Geralt shoved Jaskier behind himself, a snarl on his lips and ready to fight. “I believe this is the Count and Countess of Lettenhove’ residence. What are you doing here?”

“Witcher!” The male ogre spat. “Nothing good has ever come of your kind. You’re not making us move.”

From behind Geralt, Jaskier sprang forwards. “Mother! Father!” He embraced the ogres before being almost bowled over by a donkey. “Uncle!”

“You call this a greeting? This is how you say hello to your favourite uncle? What have I got to do before I get a hug from my favourite nephew?” The donkey looked to the side where the ogres were still staring and turned to see what the issue was. “That’s a Witcher. Oh, that’s your Witcher! That’s a nice Witcher.”

That seemed to pull Jaskier back into the moment and he stood up, clearing his throat. “Right, Mother, Father, Uncle, this is Geralt of Rivia. Geralt, my family.”

Vesemir would be so ashamed if he ever found out how Geralt reacted. All the years spent drilling manners into Geralt’s head were for naught.

“How?!”

“Well,” the donkey said into the stunned silence, “when one ogre loves another ogre and they’re into experimenting with potions-”

“Donkey!” Jaskier’s parents cried in unison before his mother continued. “Please excuse Donkey. I’m Fiona, this is Shrek. And to answer your question, ogres and humans had different anatomy. We got curious, had potions to change temporarily and, well, Jaskier happened during those three days.”

It was Jaskier’s turn to hiss, “Mother! Please don’t tell Geralt about your kinky sex lives.”

“Yes, Eskel told me about ogre anatomy and the differences in rather too much detail,” Geralt grumbled.

“Eskel fucked an ogre?”

“It was an orgy actually - though he insisted on calling it an ogre-y. Said he couldn’t get the mud from the swamp out of certain places for over a week.”

As far as first impressions went, Geralt didn’t think he could have done any worse. But he was being ushered in all the same, Donkey already chattering away about the inane things that had happened since Jaskier last visited. It left Geralt in the rather silent company of Shrek while Fiona led the way.

“Dinner’s at seven,” Shrek gritted out and Geralt hummed in acknowledgement which garnered a grunt in reply.

“Oh my word, you’re marrying your father,” Donkey cried at Jaskier, head snapping to look between Shrek’s retreating back and Geralt standing in the hallway as Fiona opened a door.

“Don’t mind him-” Whatever else she was saying went over Geralt’s head because he caught up with Donkey’s words. Just what was that about marrying?!

They stepped into the room and Jaskier let out a wail of anguish. “Mother! Two beds, really?”

“Just be glad Shrek let you even share a room. But I couldn’t talk him out of having Mirror on the wall.”

“Hello,” the enchanted mirror called. “Please don’t rearrange the room or do anything untoward, I really rather wouldn’t see those kinds of things.”

Geralt closed his eyes and took a few steadying breaths. This was fine, he could do this, there was a dragon somewhere around and he was duty bound to make sure she was free. He regretted such a decision by the evening. There was indeed a dragon who lived at the castle but she refused to take a human form, far too happy and, of all things, in love with Donkey, enough to have a clutch with him Dragon-Donkey babies were terrifying, Geralt had ascertained, menaces, taking their temperament from their father while their mother gifted them with wings and the ability to breathe fire. Suddenly, Geralt understood why there were never any contracts in the area. The locals befriended every creature, monster and anything in between. And any they couldn’t? Well, ogres and dragons could easily keep things in check.

Once the shock of it all had worn off, Geralt could actually focus on eating. Other than Jaskier, there seemed to be no one who cared for things like utensils.

“Please, Mother, Father, at least try to have some manners?” Jaskier looked pleadingly at his parents. His only response was Fiona letting out quite the impressive belch before high fiving Shrek.

The sound of small, pattering feet caught Geralt’s attention. He looked at Shrek and Fiona before trying to find the source of the sound. This seemed like the kind of company that would appreciate his party trick with a fork. A hand around his wrist stopped him.

“Not the Three Blind Mice. They’re friends.”

Almost disappointed, Geralt settled back to finish his surprisingly hearty meal. It wasn’t the usual fair of courts, this was more about being filling and warm rather than showing off all the money that went into making tiny portions full of expensive spices. However, it certainly helped set Geralt at ease.

“So, when’s the wedding?” The small amount of peace was shattered by Shrek asking around a mouthful. It had Jaskier shrieking while the rest of his family watched him, frozen in place but not exactly surprised. More like they were patiently waiting for him to be done. Shrek shrugged. “I thought you were bringing your Witcher home to get married. Isn’t that how it usually goes in fairytales?”

“That’s only princes and princesses,” Donkey cut in. “You have a viscount. They don’t have to get married. Unless…?”

“I’m not proposing,” Geralt blurted out. There was a collective groaning sigh from the table, some of it relief, some of it disappointment and Geralt didn’t know just how offended he should be. He didn’t expect Jaskier to loudly but delicately put his cutlery onto his plate to make in clink pointedly.

“Good. Because I wanted to be the one to propose. On my own terms. In my own time. Mother, do you still have the ring? I think I will take it with us. Might eventually use it.”

Donkey gasped. “Not the One Ring?”

“No!” Jaskier sounded exasperated. “We all know what happened to cousin Gollum with that one. I don’t have any wishes to lose my hair because of that. I meant Grandmother’s ring. I doubt Grandfather’s would be very useful.” He turned to Geralt. “Grandfather was turned into a frog. His ring is rather tiny as a result.”

Of course Jaskier had ogres for parents and a frog for a grandfather. He still took after his uncle the most by the sounds of things. Given how Donkey hadn’t stopped making noises, whether it was humming or popping his lips, it was incessant. Geralt felt he now understood Jaskier a whole lot better. And, when the time came, if Jaskier did offer him a ring, Geralt had zero reservations about the knowledge that he would say yes. But the wedding was going to be at Kaer Morhen, he was going to have to insist on that.

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (1)

(Hey guys! I finally got around to posting the first chapter of this! I hope you guys enjoy it, and please tell me if you’d liked to be tagged or want to read more! there’s also a mini-series of Journal Entries connected to this fic.)

Ch.2

Chapter 1: Happy Accidents

Rosemary Highschool, a private school for the truly gifted and the rich. Anyone who attended this facility was either poised and reserved, or uptight, or all of the above. Therefore, when a stuttering, stumbling raven-haired girl came tripping through their doors, it was only natural that the students became curious.

Felix couldn’t care less, if he was being honest. The girl was just another student, and he had better things to do than waste his time meddling in the personal life of a complete stranger. 

His friends, however, did not share his sentiment. 

“Did you hear?” Allegra asked as they walked to their lockers, her sky blue eyes wide with delight. She leaned forward slightly to catch a better view of their expressions, causing her golden braid to fall gracefully over her left shoulder. 

“About the new student? Who didn’t?” Claude replied, wearing his usual grin. 

“How do you think she got in?” Allan wondered aloud, fixing the green cap on his head in thought.

Felix rolled his eyes. His friends had always loved picking up on the latest gossip. He never understood why. Take this new student, for example. She hasn’t even finished enrolling in the school yet, but everyone’s already chattering relentlessly about her. Why? Because she was rumored to be clumsy? That was hardly an achievement, let alone something to be talked about by the entire school. So what was all the fuss about?

Allegra gasped, a smile lighting up her soft features. “Oh! We should show her around! This school is huge, so she’ll definitely need a guide. Plus, we can get the first scoop on her.”

“Absolutely not.” Felix finally cut in, giving her a sharp look. He refused to galivant around the school with a complete stranger while his classmates tried to pry into the poor girl’s personal life. 

“We didn’t say you had to go.” Claude pointed out.

“But you should at least say hi.” Allegra hastily added, a motherly tone coming to her voice.

Felix scoffed. Right. He would say ‘hi’, then they would ‘convince’ him to stay- i.e. drag him by the collar -and he would end up going around the school with them anyway. He’d gotten used to their tricks by now.

Allan frowned in disapproval. “Come on, Fe. It’s the polite thing to do. We are her new classmates, after all.”

“Yeah, Fe, don’t be a jerk.”

“When am I ever not a jerk.” Felix retorted.

Claude smirked. “He’s got a point.”

“Felix.” Allegra pressed, fixing him with a stern glare and putting her hands on her hips.

Felix groaned, irritation prickling up to the forefront of his mind. What did it matter if he saw the new student? He wouldn’t be talking with her often, and they would probably meet later on during classes anyway. Why did they have to be so pushy?

He reached up to rub his temples and closed his eyes. If he couldn’t see them, it helped him imagine that they weren’t annoying him to the point of insanity. 

“Alright, fine, but if any of you-”

Felix barely registered the hit. He heard his friends gasp, and the sound of his books and pencils scattering across the floor, and he felt the dull pain of someone smacking into him before he unexpectedly hit the ground.

Then his ears tuned into a light, yet panicked voice.

“I’m so sorry! I can’t believe I just did that- are you hurt? Do I need to call the nurse?”

Someone was talking to him. Well, they were more of rambling, really. 

“Pardon?” He said, interrupting the person’s ramble as he rubbed his back. He glanced up to see a young girl kneeling on the ground in front of him. She was scrambling around on the floor- gathering up his books, he realized -and appeared to be even more disoriented than he was.

His question spooked her, apparently, because she jumped, and her eyes darted upwards. They were an overwhelming blue, bright and sparkling despite being filled with anxiety at the moment. 

“I-I’m sorry!” She repeated, briefly setting the books down so she could nervously pull on the tips of her raven-colored pigtails.

Felix’s eyes widened. 

Raven.

Claude stifled a laugh behind him. 

“It’s not a problem.” Felix sighed, swiftly taking his books back from her and moving to retrieve the others. This was exactly what he had wanted to avoid. 

The ravenette furrowed her eyebrows, now bringing her hands down to play with the zipper of her black, half-sleeved jacket. “A-are you sure?”

He gave a short nod, scooping the rest of his books into his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. 

“I wasn’t looking where I was going, and I ran into you. If anything, I should be the one saying sorry.” His tone was composed, calm, if only for the sake of dignity. Claude and Allegra were never going to let him live this down.

He picked up her small handbag, holding it out to her. “So, I apologize. I’ll be more careful next time, and I am willing to replace anything of yours that is broken.” 

A wash of color came to her cheeks.

“Oh, That- that won’t be necessary, thank you.” She insured, taking the purse and clutching it to her chest.

Felix didn’t reply, instead using the brief pause to look her over. With her light pink capris and child-like pigtails, she didn’t exactly give off the impression of being rich or poised. Perhaps a relative bought her tuition? That’s happened before. 

“Aw, look! Felix made a friend!” Claude’s snide remark broke Felix from his thoughts, and he shot the brunette a glare. That clown can never keep his mouth shut.

Allegra pushed past the two and extended a hand to the girl just as they got to their feet. “Hi! I’m Allegra. What’s your name?”

The girl smiled- which Felix found surprisingly pleasant -and took her hand. “Marinette. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Like the doll?” Allan asked curiously, stepping forward as well.

“Sort of, yes.” 

“That’s pretty cool. I’m Allan, by the way.” He introduced himself, also shaking her hand. He then pointed behind him, towards Claude and Felix. “The one in the blue striped shirt is Claude, and the stiff board you just ran into is Felix.”

Felix hunched his shoulders slightly, a scowl tugging at the corner of his lips, but Marinette only laughed. It oddly reminded him of the sound of tinkling bells. 

“You’re new here, right?” Allegra asked before Felix could snark off to Allan. “Mind if we show you around?”

A sigh of relief tumbled from Marinette’s lips. “Please do. This place is like a maze!”

Claude chuckled and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it’ll make your head spin. We-”

“-Can start with the cafeteria.” Felix interrupted. The sooner they could start the tour, the sooner he could go home. “Then we’ll work our way around the classrooms.”

He spun on his heel, ignoring his friends’ smug smiles, and marched off. It wouldn’t take long for them to follow.

Allan was the first to catch up, throwing Felix a sly smirk as he whispered, “I thought you said you weren’t going to show her around.”

Felix shrugged. If he was going to suffer through the embarrassment of running into somebody, he might as well get something out of it. He would take her on a quick tour, and perhaps his friends wouldn’t feel the need to meddle in his social life for at least another month.

“We’re her new classmates, right?” He said. “We should exercise basic politeness and guide her through the school.”

Allan hummed. “Sounds like good advice. I wonder who could’ve told you that.”

“The name escapes me.” Felix replied, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. He stole a glance over his shoulder to the rest of the group. Marinette was talking cheerfully with Allegra now, her previous show of anxiety all but gone. She even looked a bit confident with the tripping matter settled. Isn’t that strange?

“...What else do you know about her?”

~~~~~~

When Maman suggested that Marinette start attending Rosemary Highschool, reluctance couldn’t begin to express how she’d felt. She’d heard the rumors, how the kids were spoiled, snobby brats, how the classes were just a room full of fancy trinkets to keep the kids satisfied for a while. Marinette honestly didn’t want any part of it, but at that point, any school was better than her old school. She simply couldn’t stand Lila’s schemes anymore, nor Adrien’s relentless pursuit of having them get along. As bad as Chloe’s bullying was, Marinette almost wished that she could go back to that time. At least then she’d still have friends. (Well, calling her old classmates “friends” would be over exaggerating now. At least then she wouldn’t have to deal with getting bullied from everyone at school.)

Either way, Marinette chose Rosemary over Dupont in a heartbeat, despite her uneasiness, and found that it actually wasn’t all bad. The endless halls were a bit confusing, but the classes were more advanced than others had let on, and though a select few of the students could be considered snobbish, everyone else seemed quite nice. A small group even offered to show her around. (After she ran into their friend, that is. Only Marinette could make such an embarrassing introduction.)

“I think that covers everything.” The girl of the group, Allegra, said. “But in case you’re still confused, I have a map for you.”

“A map?” Marinette echoed. She didn’t think they presented those at the school, though they probably should.

Allegra nodded and pulled a folded piece of paper from her school bag. “Claude gets lost all the time. So I started making maps for him. I have multiple maps because- typical Claude -he loses the maps too.”

“How was I supposed to know that it got mixed in with my history homework?” Claude, obviously the jokester amongst them, defended with a flail of his arms.

“If you ever need help,” Allegra continued, ignoring Claude’s comment as she scribbled something on the map, “feel free to text me.” 

“Thank you so much.” Marinette smiled, peeking at the phone number that was now on the corner of the page.

“It’s the least we can do.” Allan, probably the most relaxed of the group, replied. 

“It’s not as complicated as it looks. I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it within a week.” Ah, yes. Then there was Felix, the poor boy she’d run into earlier. He’d been extremely mature about the matter, even insisting that it was his fault and that he’d pay for any of her damaged belongings. Naturally, she refused the offer, but it was a thoughtful gesture nonetheless. 

“If not, you know where to find us.” Claude added, before scooping her hand into his and pressing a quick kiss to her knuckles. “But I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to you finding me for non-school related purposes as well.” 

Allegra rolled her eyes with a sigh, and Allan pinched the bridge of his nose. Felix just scoffed, especially when Claude winked at the end. 

Jokester and flirt of the group. Marinette thought with a smirk. In one quick motion, she slipped her hand out of Claude’s grasp and pushed him away by the tip of his nose. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She said, flashing him a wry smile.

Claude stumbled back a step, clearly shocked by her reaction. Allan straight up laughed next to him, and Marinette, to her delight, caught a glimpse of Felix smirking.

“Oh, I like you.” Allegra snickered, slinging her arm over Marinette’s shoulders.

“So do I.” Claude grinned. 

Allan, once his laughs died down, stepped forward. “Do you mind if I give you my number too? I can’t imagine not hanging out with you now.”

Marinette blushed from the compliment, but nodded and handed him the paper. Claude eagerly jumped at the opportunity and wrote down his number too. Then the boys turned to Felix.

“What about you, Fe? Are you giving her your number now or are you gonna beg for it later?” Claude asked, his grin turning devilish.

Felix shot him a glare- which he apparently did quite often. “I don’t beg.”

Allegra- ever the patient friend -let out a huff and shoved the paper into his hands. “For Pete’s sake, Felix, just write your number on the dang paper.”

“O-Only if you want to.” Marinette interjected. She didn’t want to cause a fight amongst them on her first day.

Felix’s glare faded slightly at her input, and he sighed. 

“It’s fine. You would probably need it eventually, anyway.” He relented, plucking a pen out of his left vest pocket and jotting down his number on the paper too. Marinette smiled despite herself as she took the paper back. It was only her first day, but she’s already made four, lovely friends. She liked to think of that as a good sign.

“Have you gotten your class schedule, yet?” Allegra queried now that the phone number matter was settled.

Marinette shook her head. “I was actually trying to find it when I bumped into you guys.”

Claude snorted. “‘Bumped into’. Good one.”

Marinette giggled along with Allegra and Allan. She hadn’t meant it that way, but the irony was a bit humorous. 

“Let us walk you to the office.” Allan requested. “The school tends to overcomplicate things, class schedules included.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hold you guys up.”

Allegra waved her hand dismissively. “Classes are over for the day, and our drivers are paid to wait for us.”

Marinette furrowed her brows slightly. “Your drivers?"

“You know, the people who drive us to and from school and anywhere else we want to go.” Claude helpfully supplied.

So, like Gorilla. Marinette thought. It made sense. This was a school of kids who had fortunes of the same extent, if not greater than, the Agreste’s fortunes. If Adrien had a driver, then the students here would certainly have one too.

“You don’t have a driver, do you?” Allegra guessed.

Marinette glanced up at the blonde, a strange mix of surprised and embarrassed. Was it that obvious? Would it be weird in this school if she didn’t have a driver?

“Please don’t take that the wrong way.” Allegra rushed to add, noticing Marinette’s sheepish expression. “I’m just curious. We don’t get many students here who aren’t drowning in their own money.”

“That makes sense.” Marinette replied. The tuition for this school had been unbelievably high. “But no, I don’t have a driver. My family was granted an early scholarship for me to come here.”

Surprise flashed across the group’s faces, including Felix’s. 

“Well, isn’t that interesting.” Claude muttered. 

Marinette shrank back slightly. “I-I’m sorry-”

“No, don’t apologize.” Allan cut her off. “We’re just impressed.”

“Getting a scholarship here isn’t easy.” Allegra explained. 

“I-It’s only in the fashion section.” Marinette admitted, fiddling with the ends of her bookbag.

Claude gasped, a sparkle coming to his chestnut eyes. "You're a fashion designer?!"

“Uh oh.” Allan smirked.

Allegra shot her an apologetic look. “I’d say that there’s an escape to this, but I don’t want to lie straight to your face on our first day of knowing each other.”

Marinette held back a smile. Did that mean she would lie to her face when they knew each other better?

“How many outfits have you designed? Can you sow outfits too? I’ve had a few ideas, but none of the other art students listen to me-” Comments and questions started spilling out of Claude left and right. Things about smeared pencil drawings, pricked fingers, and his strange obsession with ruffled, prince-like sleeves seemed to explode out of his mouth all at once. Marinette knew her rambles could fall on the fast side, but this was a whole other level. 

“I’d have to look through my notebook, but I think the ruffles are doable.” Marinette managed to say when Claude paused to take a breath.

“Really?!” He exclaimed, going so far as to clasp his hands together with a grin.

She nodded, smiling herself. “I’m not sure how princely sleeves would fair on modern sleeves, though. They’d look much nicer on a full prince costume.”

Claude’s eyes bulged out of his head. “You would design a full suit for me?”

“I can’t promise that the fabric will be of good quality when I sow it, but yeah.” 

Claude threw his fists in the air in celebration, and Allegra took the opportunity to lightly pull Marinette aside.

“You know you don’t have to do this, right?” She whispered. “Claude’s not going to be too disappointed if you decide to change your mind.”

Marinette’s smile softened. “Thanks, but I really don’t mind. I needed a new project to work on, anyway.” 

Allegra studied her for a moment, then smiled as well. “Well, if you’re sure. He’s going to send you cars full of fabric though.”

She laughed. “Guess I’ll tell Maman to start clearing out the guest room.”

~~~~~~

Felix stared at his book, rubbing the corner of the page between his thumb and index finger. His phone buzzed relentlessly beside him on the arm of his recliner, no doubt the group chat that he'd been roped into. It was chaotic enough when it was just Allegra, Allan, and Claude, but now that they've added Marinette to the group, Felix wondered if his phone would ever be silent again.

He supposed he should have known better than to assume they would show Marinette around the school and be done with her. Allegra, Allan, and Claude were always overly friendly. However, he also couldn’t say that he minded having her around either. At least, not for the time being. She was considerate enough not to push his buttons and lively enough to keep the others occupied. No more on-the-spot activities from Allegra and Claude to cure their boredom.

"They're chatty today." Bridgette, his mother, commented from the loveseat couch to his right.

Felix hummed in agreement. "A new student arrived at the school today."

"Is that what they're talking about?"

He shook his head. "It's who they're talking to. The leeches have already adopted her."

Bridgette chuckled. “You mean Allegra, Allan, and Claude?” 

“Who else insists on sticking to me like glue?” 

She tilted her head in a “True” gesture. “Who’s the new student?”

“Her name’s Marinette.” Felix answered, flipping the page of his book.

“Oh, that’s a unique name.” Bridgette replied thoughtfully.

Felix hummed in agreement. “She said it was supposed to be similar to the doll ‘Marionette’.” 

“You talked to her?” Bridgette asked, surprise lacing her tone.

Felix resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He knew she didn’t mean to sound patronizing, but sometimes her questions irked him. For example, why wouldn’t he talk to the new student if Allegra and the others were? Even if he didn’t particularly enjoy human interaction, there was still such a thing as common courtesy.

..Which he supposed he didn’t usually have either.

Okay, maybe her question was more reasonable than he originally thought.

“Yes, I actually ran into her while we were walking down the hall.” He finally said.

Bridgette tried- and failed -to hide her laugh. “You ran into someone? That’s not like you, Felix.”

Felix sighed, slipping a bookmark into his book so he could close it. “I’m aware. I was trying to ignore Allegra’s prodding when it happened.”

“I see. What did Marinette say?”

“She actually started apologizing.” Felix admitted. “Even though it was my fault, she picked up my books before tending to her own things and asked if I was alright.”

Bridgette smiled. “She sounds delightful.”

He nodded without thinking. “Allegra even invited her to our routine luncheon tomorrow.”

Felix missed the twinkle in his mother’s eyes as she said, “Wow, to your personal lunch? They must really enjoy her company. You’ll have to invite her over here sometime.”

“I’m sure Allegra will arrange it eventually.” Felix replied dismissively.

“Then I shall have to thank her when she does.” Bridgette remarked, standing up from the couch. Her fingers ruffled through his hair as she passed him. “I’m glad you had a good day at school, sweetheart.”

Felix almost objected, since he hadn’t necessarily claimed to have had a good day at school, but decided against it. There was no point in arguing, especially when his day had, in fact, been satisfactory. He’d met someone new, someone that intrigued him. (A rarity, indeed, but it was true.) In the short time they talked, Marinette had shown herself to be both kind and anxious, but also witty and confident. It was an interesting mixture that stuck out to him. What type of life must one live to create such a paradox of a personality?

Unfortunately, Allan and the others knew about as little as he did when it came to her. She was a new student that had a passion for fashion and a bright smile. That was all. This was why he’d elected to remain silent instead of sharply opposing Allegra’s inviting Marinette to their lunch. (The sly smiles that were thrown his way by Claude and Allan afterwards were above irritating, though.)

Nevertheless, Felix felt she was worth the teasing for now, because Marinette, in short, was a puzzle.

And Felix loved his puzzles.

[gryffindors-weasley]

A Love to Last

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: Draco feels he’s got the kind of love he’s been searching for.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: mentions of the dark mark, guilt, tiny bit of jealousy, self doubt, fluff, kissing

A/N: This is my entry for @dracosaurusrex song fic challenge! The song I’ve chosen is A Sunday Kind of Love by Etta James. I hope you enjoy it my lovely Ina!!

When you awoke, the bedroom was still cast in shadows as dawn had just begun to roll around, though you hadn’t anticipated it to brighten much more than it had been with the way the rain clouds swirled outside. Mornings like these had always proved to be amongst the hardest when it came to getting out of bed for the day. The warmth of your blankets, coupled with the presence of your lover just inches away, topped off with the cozy dreariness of the weather was recipe for you to stay put. But there had been one thing on your mind; Delilah’s Bakery and Tea Shop.

Draco normally had been an early riser out of habit, his work schedule leaving him no choice but to develop such a thing. However, even the overcast morning had left him reluctant to leave the comforts of the bed and start the day. He’s stirred ever since he felt you jostle the bed with your frequent tossing and turning, though, more so when he feels your gaze fixed on him.

“I can feel you staring, Darling,” he mumbles, unable to open his eyes more than just a sliver as the very tips of his fingers brush over the exposed skin of your hip. You’d been caught in your admiring.

“Was not.”

You try desperately to hold your defense, though your smile breaks through your half-stoic expression in a matter of seconds when his fingers dance over your side. A tired grin settles on his lips as he releases an airy laugh through his nose.

“You never were a good liar,” he remarks, peeking an eye open at you just so he could catch glimpse of the eye roll that was soon to follow his statement.

“It’s rather hard not to stare, you know,” you start, a wider smile beginning to spread across your lips, “especially when you’ve got a bedhead like that.”

For that, he opens his eyes fully, his gaze meeting yours when he looks up at you with narrowed eyes. His smile vanishes in favor of a frown as he props himself up on his elbow, chunks of unkempt platinum hair sticking up in the back while others fell in his eyes. “I don’t suppose you think yours is any better, do you, Darling?”

Your mouth is quick to fall agape in faux offense and his own smile returns at his triumphant remark.

“I don’t appreciate your wit at this hour, Draco,” you frown, moving to get up from your bed in reluctance. His brows knit together at your actions, his hand quick to wrap around your wrist and tug you downwards toward his lips. “You should be getting up too.”

Your words are just barely spoken, narrowly cut short as his lips meld with your own in a languid kiss, morning breath and all. It was soft and tender, his hum tickling against your mouth in a way that brought back your smile again.

“And why is that?” He murmurs, mere centimeters from your lips, so close they brush over your own with each and every word.

“We’re making a trip to see Delilah.” 

You’re matter-of-fact as you pull away from him, slipping from his loose grasp much to his obvious dismay. He throws his head back with a sigh, sending heaps of blonde hair to flop backwards and out of his eyes momentarily.

“You pinky promised me we’d go today. You can’t go back on those you know,” you remind him firmly, your lips pursed. His face scrunches as he remembers his words from just the night before; he’d much rather stay in bed and kiss you senseless all day long.

“Aren’t we a bit too old for pinky promises?” He asks with a raised brow, amusement weaving around his every word as he sits up fully.

You scoff incredulously at his absurd suggestion. “Draco, we’re only twenty-four. Besides, you’re never too old for pinky promises.”

His gaze falls almost involuntarily to the mark etched permanently on his arm as he drops his head forward at your words, his smile fading and his hair falling back down over his forehead. His stomach churns every time he sees the dark symbol, disgust clouding his mind as he looks at the swirls of black ink taking up space on the pale skin of his forearm. Space he’d never get back, memories of it forever tarnishing his mind. He often wonders how such a vile mark could curl so elegantly as if it weren’t the most humiliating thing to carry on your shoulders in the wizarding world. If he could scrub it off he would do it in a heartbeat; he’s tried.

“Dray?” His view of it is obstructed when your hand slips over his arm, effectively capturing his attention once more. You knew his mind had wandered elsewhere, and you knew just where it’d gone to. “We’d better get there before she sells out of everything. We’re not the only ones that are fond of her baking, you know. Especially on a Sunday morning.”

You finally slip from the bed with a kiss to his cheek and one on his lips, one he inevitably chased for more with a quiet protest as you pulled away from him entirely this time.

“Have you always been this demanding, my love?” He asks with a chuckle, catching the sweater you had tossed at him. You pretend to ponder the question as you tap your finger to your cheek.

“I believe so, yes.”

—

The little bell over the small shop door signals your entrance, drawing a few curious stares before they’ve gone back to their drinks. Immediately the scent of the various pastries sitting in the glass showcase is what hits you first, that and the ever familiar smell of hot chocolate. Your hand slips from Draco’s as you wander to the section in particular you’re looking for, missing the way he smiled after you before he stopped himself from standing there looking like a lovestruck fool.

It seemed as though fate had been on your side that gloomy Sunday morning, two fresh blueberry muffins sitting on their respective tray just waiting for you to buy them up. Delilah had already been on the task of grabbing them without the need to ask, having known your favorites like the back of her hand by now. The two of you had been coming there every day for the past year and a half after all.

“You’re always selling out, aren’t you, lovely?” Draco asks with a smile, putting some money on the counter and extra as a tip. The older woman smiled with a soft laugh, her cheeks staining a soft pink at the nickname falling from his lips.

Your eyes lit up upon seeing her add in an extra chocolate chip muffin too. She did this every time, perhaps it was because the sweet old woman had a bit of a crush on Draco, but nevertheless it still surprised you. She immediately denied your futile attempts to pay for it, as she’s done each and every single time you’ve tried and you purse your lips playfully, easily falling into small talk with her as if it’d been ages since you did.

She told you of her grandson who’d come to help her out with the bakery now that she had been getting older and unable to keep up with orders like she used to. You saw him flittering around the kitchen here and there but there was no sort of proper introduction, and you were quickly pulled to another subject. She had a habit of bouncing around from topic to topic, unable to talk about any one thing for more than a minute or two.

However, Draco had been privy to the boy’s obvious gazing in your direction from behind the counter, a gaze that seemed to be a little too adoring for his girlfriend. Naturally, he fixed him with a raised brow before his eyes narrow at him ever so slightly. Draco wasn’t trying to be overly intimidating per say, but he hadn’t been too fond of the way he’d been looking at you. That was a look reserved for himself to give only, and he planned to take advantage of that as soon as the guy stops making heart eyes at you.

He nearly drops the tray of chocolate chip cookies clutched in his hands when he catches sight of the displeased blonde, cheeks flushing a deep crimson at his blunder. He scratches the back of his neck and rushes back to the kitchen without another glance in your direction. You seem to be blissfully unaware of the subtle and wordless interchange and Draco finds himself slipping his hand back in yours with a soft squeeze because he’d missed the contact. Any bit of jealousy that had been simmering in his chest, no matter how minute, dissolves the moment you look at him.

“Are you ready to go, Love?” You ask, your eyes seemingly sparkling up at him.

He clears his throat and nods, careful not to get too lost in how much he had wanted to grab your face and kiss you in that moment. You both bid Delilah a warm goodbye, Draco stepping ahead to open the door for you, not letting your hand go. The little bell chimes once more as you step outside, the chilly spring air engulfing you once more and sending a shiver up your spine.

“She said her grandson has been working with her, have you seen him?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen him alright,” he mutters grumpily, scoffing more so to himself than to you.

You pretend you didn’t hear his grumbling, instead leaning on your toes and kissing his cheek sweetly. That seemed to bring him around as you watch a smile grace his lips.

You were just a few paces away from the car when you had seen it; a little street-side stand littered with an assortment of colorfully bloomed flowers for sale. Though Draco seemed to be one step ahead of you, his hand slipping from yours to cross the street with a few cautious glances. You smiled after him with a shake of your head, watching him go straight for the roses without hesitation. You eyed him digging around in his pocket for some change, handing it over in exchange for the single and pristine red rose he now had held between his fingers contently as he crosses the street and back to you again.

“Draco!” You say with a soft laugh, quickly captured in a breathless kiss as he gifts you the delicate flower. His breath puffs out in little clouds against the chilly air as he raises a brow.

“You can’t possibly have thought I’d leave without buying you one, can you?”

Your cheeks blush a soft scarlet as you grin up at him, leaning up on your toes to kiss him once more. He was ever the romantic at heart, though he likes to argue and insist that he is absolutely no such thing. However, currently you were desperate to divert his attention from your reddening cheeks.

“We’d better go before it rains on us.”

He hums softly in agreement, getting in the car with the cue of thunder rumbling through the gray sky. The sweet smell of the muffins had begun to seep through the paper bag they resided in, filling the car with the mouthwatering scent of blueberries and a hint of chocolate. You were tempted to delve into them in that very moment, though you quickly decided against it with the short commute. Even with that being said, Draco still enveloped your hand in his own no matter if you were two minutes from home or two hours. It was a sense of grounding that he’d worked into an absentminded habit.

You looked over at him fondly, the softest of smiles tugging at the corners of your mouth as you did so. His sleepy eyes flickered over the familiar town, his free hand draped over the top of the steering wheel. You admired him as you so often do, at the platinum locks tangling with dark lashes because there was no pressing need for it to be pristine any longer; he hadn’t wanted to get a haircut either. At the freckle adorning the very corner of his jaw, one you kissed so often you had lost count by this point. Even at the strands of hair stubbornly sticking out at the back of his head that he hadn’t cared to brush down before he left the house. Perhaps the cutest part was the way he sung ever so softly to the radio that had been on, the same muggle song stuck in his head for days.

He turned his gaze to you briefly when he turned on your street, having felt your stare much like he’d felt it earlier that morning just forty-five minutes prior. You look ahead with a smile and a deepening blush spreading to the tips of your ears, your home coming into view and allowing a reprieve from his playful yet inevitable teasing that was bound to be spoken.

As luck would have it, the patter of rain drizzled onto the windshield in delicate droplets before turning to an undesirable downpour in the span of five seconds. You look to Draco with a knowing smile, the keys clutched readily in his hand as he sighs and gives a nod.

“One…two…three!” You say simultaneously, making quick work of exiting the car and squealing as you did so.

You of course had gotten held up as he fumbled with the latch of the old iron gate because it never functioned when it was needed to, grabbing your hand and rushing down the mossy cobblestone pathway to your front door. You shriek in protest to the icy rain pelting against you, effectively soaking through your coat and warping the bag crinkled in your hand. He’d had a much easier time with the lock on the door, but you found yourself plucking a flower that had caught your eye before he had tugged you into your home and closed out the inclement weather behind you.

Bouts of laughter filled the otherwise quiet space, the familiar scent of pine and coffee wafting your way as the residual heat from the fireplace took the edge off. You stand there with a smile as he shrugs off his rain dampened coat, the gray sweater he wore underneath it doing nothing to help the way you wanted to kiss him.

“What?” He asks, his eyes narrowed curiously as he takes his shoes off.

You bite the inside of your cheek as you thrust the freshly picked hydrangea in his direction, water droplets beaded on its fluffy pink petals. A smile is on his lips as he takes it with a soft blush, pinching the stem between his fingers as he smells it briefly. “It’s only fair that I give you one too, right?”

He responds with a kiss, his hands settling on your cheeks as the dampened flower brushes against your skin lightly. His lips taste of his morning coffee and sugar and his hands were warm despite the cold temperatures, the ends of his hair tickling against your forehead.

He parts after another soft kiss is landed in yours lips, taking the paper bag and rose from your hand and setting them on the small table by the door before helping you out of your jacket and hanging it up with his own. You hadn’t made it more than a few steps into the living room before Draco’s hand tugged on yours, a laugh leaving your lips as he spun you around and pulled you close.

“Draco, I happen to be craving those muffins, you know,” you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“They can wait just a moment,” he says, tucking your dampened hair behind your ear. His eyes bounce over every inch of your face, lingering a moment or two longer on your lips before lifting to meet your curious gaze.

“What are you thinking about?”

He smiles softly with an airy laugh, resting his forehead on yours. A million thoughts had resided in his mind, and all of them revolved around you. The idea scared him, really. The thought of loving someone as wholeheartedly as he did you was a concept he hadn’t quite figured out yet, something he never thought he was capable of, never thought he’d have the chance to do. It was no longer a young love as teens, it is a love that’s become so deeply rooted in his heart, utterly unwavering and all encompassing. He never understood how he’d managed to grab ahold of a love like this, to be loved by someone like you. For you were nothing short of wonderful, you were all the beauty in the world in one person. And he felt as though he’d been unworthy of such affection, he was a Malfoy after all.

Malfoy’s hadn’t been known for acts of kindness and generosity. They were known for spite and selfishness; that thought invaded his mind more often than he’d ever care to admit. It’d been baffling, an idea he has yet to come up with an explanation for as to how he deserved to be loved so dearly, so intensely. He felt he didn’t deserve even a second glance from you, and he feels as though he shouldn’t bask in it too much for fear of it slipping right through his fingers. But he found he couldn’t help himself, not really, he loved you too greatly not to show it in every moment he could.

You were warm, you were impossibly kind, you were more courageous than he could ever be in ten lifetimes. You were his. Or perhaps he should say he was yours.

“I love you,” he whispers, his nose brushing over yours as his lips dip closer to yours. It’s so soft he thinks it might’ve gone unheard against the downpour pelting down outside.

His smile is unable to be contained as your soft laughter puffs against his lips, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Is that so?”

He nods ever so slightly without hesitation, his hum solidifying his answer. Your lips pressed to his softly, his smile disappearing into your kiss as your fingers tangle in platinum strands momentarily. A warmth blossoms in his chest and he feels as though his heart might burst with the way you make him feel, a quiet whine sounding in his throat when your lips pull from his all too soon.

“I love you,” you murmur, your eyes sparkling once more as you look up at him.

His fond smile soon quirks up into a lopsided smirk, extending his pinky between the two of you despite the close proximity. “Pinky promise?”

You raise an amused brow at him, a laugh leaving your lips again. Draco claimed pinky promises were for kids just that morning, a habit started in third year, but you knew for a fact that the seemingly childish action meant more to him than he’d care to admit. Regardless, you raise your pinky and link it with his own, his smile widening as he gazed down at you with a pale pink dusting his cheeks.

“Pinky promise.”

You break away from him with a whisper of a kiss, jovial laughter filling the house as you grab the long awaited bag of muffins and skipped off to the kitchen. He stared after you for a few fleeting moments as he shook his head with a smile.

It wasn’t a temporary love. It was a love to last.

—

Tags: @amourtentiaa @theweasleysredhair @hahee154hq @greenappledraco