#initially I just wanted a new header but I thought it could use a pair so here we are

[vanmarkus]

Hey, what do you remember about getting shot?

[itsascreambaby96]

Could you please write a poly!ghostface X reader friends to lovers smut (w/ some fluff)

I had so much fun with this! Thank you so much for the request! I hope you enjoy it! Please leave feedback🩷

(A/N: Header by me)

Warnings: SMUT! 18+, mdni. fem!reader. Oral both female and male recieving. Name calling, pet names, p in v sex. No use if condom(be responsible please, life isn't fanfiction). Drinking. Everyone in this fic is over 18. if I missed anything please let me know.

Pairing: Stu Macher x fem!reader x Billy Loomis

Word count: 6.7k

Just the three of us

You and Stu have been best friends since first grade. You were paired to sit together. Initially you thought he was pretty annoying. Always talking, not paying much attention and messing up your work. Little you was really ready to throw hands. Stu loved annoying you! He thought that was the best way to make friends. Taking away the pens you needed to finish your drawing in art class. Or copying your maths notes. Always asking you ridiculous questions that he knew you couldn't answer. He thought it funny how your little face scrunched up. Little Stu was a menace. But he didn't take too kindly to other kids picking on you. It almost never happened.

But when one of the older boys pushed you into the dirt one day, with your new dress, which he knew was new because he's never seen you wear it before and you told him so and were so happy about it, it was over. He didn't care that the boy was older than him, and slightly taller, he threw himself at the boy and a fight broke loose. The teacher pulled them apart. Stu was dirty but he didn't care. All he cared for was you. So once the teacher's were done with their chiding he ran to look for you. He didn't have to go very far as you were waiting for him. He thought you would snap at him but you gave him the biggest hug you could. Stu didn't know it yet but his heart skipped a beat and would do so ever since when you hugged him. Ever since then the two of you have been inseparable. He still annoyed you during classes but now you knew that he didn't mean bad by it and always had a smart comeback to his weird questions. No one could come between the two of you. 

Or so you thought. Once you two entered middle school Stu met a new friend. His name was Billy. Suddenly Stu spent every minute with him. You hated it. You tried confronting Stu but he said that you made stuff up. Of course it hurt but maybe he was right? You gave him some space, which seemed to work in your favour as you made some other friends along the way. Girl friends, which you really didn't have before. Stu hated to see that. He was supposed to be your best friend. Suddenly he kept inviting you over again, so much so that you didn't spend so much time with your girl friends anymore. You tried to make time for them but it wasn't nearly enough. Most of them didn't want to hang out with you anymore. The only real girl friend you had was Tatum. She had a lot of friends so she never minded when you didn't have time, but she was also happy when you did. 

The other down side with Stu inviting you over again was that Billy was there as well. You still didn't like him the first few times you came around. It wasn't like he was unfriendly or anything, just the fact that he stole your best friend. Stu must have talked to Billy cause the boy always made sure to be at his best behaviour around you. Making sure you started to like him. You don't really remember how it happened but suddenly it wasn't just you and Stu anymore but you, Stu and Billy. You really grew fond of Billy, you even developed a little crush on the boy at one point. Of course you never told him or Stu, for many reasons. One because you knew he didn't feel the same and two Stu would make fun of you. You also didn't want to ruin your little friend group. So you ignored it, which worked very well.

Until the summer before you guys started High School. You guys were 15 and at the Lake in the woods. You had bought a new bikini for the occasion. Stu's eyes widened as you took off your summer dress to reveal the new swimwear you bought. He was checking you out, and when he noticed his swim trunks getting tighter, he jumped into the lake immediately. He didn't care that it was cold as hell, on the contrary it helped him. When he came back up to the surface he heard your laugh and gave you his usual wide grin in return. He also noticed Billy checking you out, more subtle than him. He felt a little jealous but shook his head. That was silly. 

You guys had an amazing day at the lake, several water fights and dunking each other, the previous thoughts all gone. It was late but the sun was still up. You were dry again and laughing with your boys. You don't know how it came up but they were telling you about their first kisses. To be honest you felt a little jealous but you thought that was because you didn't have your first kiss yet. It was a little embarrassing really, though you knew there was nothing wrong with it but you kind of felt left out of a secret club, that your best friends already joined without you. You had gotten really quiet as Stu tells the story of how he had "a real makeout session" with Stacy from your Math class. Billy noticed your lack of attention and nudged you softly, asking you what's wrong with you. That also got Stu's attention. Your face grew hot as now both Stu and Billy were looking at you. You averted your gaze and told them that you didn't have your first kiss yet. Billy shrugged his shoulders.

"That's not that bad. It's not like it's a big deal." 

But that didn't really convince you. 

"If it bothers you so much one of us could kiss ya." That got your attention and you looked at Stu. 

"You are making fun of me!" 

"Babes you know I would never!"

You just raise an eyebrow at that. 

"Fine I do. But not right now. I am dead serious! Cross my heart!" He was doing the cross over his heart trying to look serious, but his eyes were full of mischief. You looked over to Billy. 

"I mean… he is not wrong. If you really wanna."

That took you even more by surprise. You thought Billy would try to talk Stu out of it but you were wrong. He was also thinking this idea was great. You contemplated it. What would be the harm right? It's just a kiss. It's not like that would change anything. Right? Right. 

"Alright."

"Really?" Stu asked, his face lit up like a childs on christmas. 

"Yeah. I mean it's just a kiss right?"

"Yeah nothing special about it." Billy said.

"So who do you want to be your first?" Stu wiggled his eyebrows. 

Your face grew hot again. Of course they were both attractive. And you had a crush on Billy once. But Stu was your best friend, you knew him longer. This gave you anxiety already. You didn't want it to be awkward with either one of them. But you also wanted this to be over. And who knows how much longer you'd have to go without kissing. You didn't want to be a bloody amateur when you got your first boyfriend.

So you decided. You stood up only to sit down right in front of Stu, who gave you a big smile. Little did you know that jealousy bubbled up in Billy at that. Though he didn't know who he was more jealous of, you or Stu. He shook his head.

"What do I do with my hands?"

"Whatever you want. You can put them around my neck or one on my face. Or you can just leave them at your side. Though that would be kinda awkward."

You nodded and so you shyly put your hands on Stu's shoulders, softly gripping them.

Your nerves were acting up as Stu slowly scooted a little closer and his face was inches from your own. You closed your eyes as you felt your lips connect. His lips were a little chapped but it didn't feel unpleasant. Then he started to move his lips, you tried to copy his movements. It wasn't perfect by any means, even a little sloppy, but you actually enjoyed yourself. You were clinging to Stu as he somehow managed to slip his tongue into your mouth and you let out a little squeak, feeling Stu grin against your lips. All too soon he broke the kiss. With your eyes still closed you tried to follow his lips. Stu let out a chuckle at that and you could hear Billy clear his throat. That snapped you out of your little trance, your face incredibly hot. You looked over to Billy.

"Wanna show me what you learned?" 

Your eyes widened a little at that but you nodded nonetheless. He switched places with Stu real quick, Stu taking off his hands from your hips which you didn't even know were there. You already missed them. But they were replaced with Billy's. A little smaller than Stu's, but just as pleasantly warm. You wrapped your arms around his neck and Billy grinned, squeezing your hips a little.

"Ready?"

You nodded, smiling. Closing your eyes again as he closed the space between you two and his lips met yours. His lips were softer than Stu's, the kiss already feeling different than Stu's too. Less sloppy, as if Billy really knew what he was doing. He was easily dominating that kiss. You could really get used to kissing them. Scraping together every ounce of confidence you had you let your tongue slip inside his mouth, teasing his tongue with yours, just like you felt Stu do to you just moments ago. You could feel Billy letting out a soft sigh. Unbeknownst to you Stu was watching you two like a hawk. He wished he could join the two of you. You were getting a little lost in the feeling, your heart beating out of your chest. But Billy decided that this was long enough and broke the kiss. Your eyes fluttered open and you looked at Billy, his eyes never sucked you in more.

"I think you will be good now."

"Yeah, your future boyfriend will be really lucky." There was a slight edge to Stu's voice. But you couldn't figure out why. 

After that, conversation resumed as normal and you were convinced that was the end of that. And it was. Nothing seemed to have changed and after the summer you guys went to highschool. Still the best of friends. Both Billy and Stu started dating a few girls here and there during that time. And even you went on a few dates but you were never really in love with them. They always seemed to have a problem with how close you were with Billy and Stu. More often than not they cheered you up after another guy dumped you. You were very grateful for that. You of course were there for them too. Stu being dumped by Casey Becker was really hard on him. You had a sleepover with him the whole weekend, with Billy showing up as well in the middle of the night. As much as Stu was upset it was one of the best weekends in a long time. You guys were watching movies all night, stuffing your face with Junk Food and sweets, and talking a lot. It felt like you grew closer to them again. While you guys were sleeping you were squished between them, Stu in front of you and Billy pressed against your back. It made you feel all warm inside and you realised that you might be feeling more for your best friends than you were supposed to. You knew nothing would happen so you were just happy with what you've got.

Now it was your 18th Birthday. Initially you just wanted a chill day, maybe going to eat some pizza with your boys but Stu had a different idea. And so you were at his house, which was full of people. You were convinced Stu invited the whole school. Both Billy's and Stu's 18th birthdays were a few months ago but they didn't have this big of a party, you think. You were making your way to the couch, people wishing you a happy birthday left and right. Finally you could join Tatum and Sydney on the sofa letting out a big sigh.

"Stu really went all out for you huh?"

"Yeah. I think it's a bit much but I couldn't say no to him when he looked at me with his big puppy eyes and his stupid grin."

"So when are you going to tell him you are in love with him?"

You choked on your own saliva at that. 

"I am not in love with him."

"Sure, keep telling yourself that."

"You know I am pretty sure you are not supposed to tease the birthday girl on her birthday."

Tatum rolled her eyes playfully. 

"Whatever."

You continued talking with the two girls when suddenly Stu plopped down next to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

"You having fun, pretty girl?"

You gave him a soft smile.

"Yeah. Thanks again for the party. But you know I would have been fine with it just being a chill night with you guys and some drinks maybe and a cake. By the way, why is there no cake?" You were pouting a little. The cake was always the best thing about birthdays.

Stu laughed at that.

"Don't worry. Billy is bringing the cake. And no he didn't bake it. That would go horribly." You giggled and softly hit his chest.

"I think you are confusing his baking abilities with your own."

He looked at you in fake shock.

"I am a fantastic baker, just so you know."

"Mhmh yeah and that time you let the cookies burn that were supposed to be sold at the baking sale two years ago was totally intentional."

"Totally!" You two laughed again.

A few moments later Billy came in with the cake. They lit the candles and everyone began to sing Happy Birthday to you. You hated every second of it, not knowing what to do with yourself besides standing there. Both Billy and Stu grinning, they knew you hated this kind of attention on yourself. You were relieved when you finally could blow out the candle and everyone got a piece of cake, including you. 

Billy came over to you, hugging you close. 

"Happy Birthday sweetheart."

"Thanks Billy." You always enjoyed his hugs. Other than Stu, Billy wasn't much of a hugger, so his hugs were a tad more special. Not that you disliked Stu's hugs though. Speaking of Stu, he couldn't stand being left out and so he wrapped you and Billy in a big bear hug.

"I love you guys so much!"

"How much did you have to drink already?" You were giggling. Billy, not so amused, nudged Stu rather harshly with his elbow, so Stu let go of you. 

After finishing your cake, and drinking another beer, you went dancing with your girl friends. You weren't much of a dancer usually but it's your birthday and maybe you should let a little loose here and there. So that's what you did. Soon after you felt a pair of hands on your hips, pulling you close to a hard chest. You were about to tell the person off but you recognised Stu's cologne instantly. Relaxing, you continued dancing. Getting bolder you started to dance more suggestively, swaying your hips more, going down almost to your knees and back up. When you were back up, Stu turned you around. Your arms flew around his neck, smiling up at him. You couldn't quite pin the look in his eyes but you didn't care. You craved his lips on yours. Your eyes flicked down to them and you could see them forming a lazy grin, his tongue poking out to wet them. You were mesmerised by the movement, your own lips parting slightly, making Stu's eyes flick down to then. His eyes became more hooded and his face inched closer. Your eyes were fluttering close, his breath fanning over your face, the smell of beer, which you would normally find disgusting was invading your senses paired with Stu's own intoxicating smell. The anticipation was slowly killing you. You could already feel his lips brush yours when suddenly Stu was janked back making you stumble.

You blinked your eyes open and saw him with a group of guys hollering and throwing shots back. You let out a huff, disappointment settling in. Without looking at him again you pushed past the group and went into the kitchen to get another drink. In the kitchen you found some people making out, blocking you from the counter with the drinks. Groaning, you took a bottle of water and went back to the living room. You could see Stu, he was still with the same group of guys, laughing and dancing. You just shook your head, plopping down on the couch. Your sour mood didn't last long as some Tatum pulled you up by the arms again and started dancing with you. The little incident between you and Stu soon forgotten

Some time around 1 o'clock in the morning when the last person left, you were helping Stu clean up. Billy was also there though really you were the only one cleaning up. The two boys were on the couch talking quietly amongst each other. After you finished the kitchen, you decided that the rest could be done tomorrow. Well technically today. 

You plopped down between them, not noticing the look they shared. 

"You had a great time today?" It was Billy asking you.

You nodded, smiling.

"I normally don't like big parties like that."

"But?" It was Stu's turn to ask.

"But … this was amazing. Thank you again." You put your palm against Stu's cheek, smiling softly at him. Realising how close you were to him, it reminded you of the situation earlier, making your face heat up. You had to look away, opting to look over at Billy. Which was a mistake. He gave you the same intense look you had seen on Stu earlier. You cleared your throat a little, looking away. You felt two fingers softly gripping your chin, turning your face towards Billy again, who was so much closer to you now. Your breath got caught in your throat. You were about to ask him what's wrong but before you could even form one word, Billy's lips were on you, soft yet firm. You were shocked but not in a bad way. Your eyes fluttered close and you were melting against Billy. Completely forgetting that Stu was right behind you. Billy's lips moved against yours with determination, his tongue slipping inside your mouth soon after. You were so lost in the kiss that you at first didn't notice that Stu began to pepper your neck with kisses. Only when he started to suck a mark onto your soft skin did you realise, letting out a breathy moan, leaning against Stu now.

Billy parted from you, making you almost whine. He grinned at that,  taking a quick look at you. Your eyes were closed, now biting your lip as Stu still worked on the one side of your neck. Your eyebrows were pulled together in pleasure. You felt like your heart was beating out of your chest, even more so when Billy began to kiss the other side of your neck. One of Stu's hands creeping you to one of your boobs, groping and squeezing the soft flesh. A breathy moan left you. The both of them were driving you wild. You were gripping at Billy's shirt, making him bite into your neck. One of his hands was working on your pants, slipping a hand inside of them once it was opened. His hand dipped into your panties and he let out a pleased hum.

"My my, already drenched and we barely did anything to you yet sweetheart. 'S that all for us?" Billy spoke against your neck, leaving goosebumps. 

You quickly nodded your head, a breathy "Yes" left your lips. You could feel Stu grinning against your neck. 

Billy slowly dragged a finger through your wet folds, making you squirm in Stu's grip. After a little more of this teasing, having coated his fingers in your juice, Billy slipped one of his fingers inside of your dripping hole. Your mouth opened in a silent moan,  Stu's hand grabbing your boob harder. Billy began to slowly fuck you open with his finger. Your head fell against Stu, one arm behind you, around Stu's neck, gripping him at the nape of his neck, the other hand still fisting Billy's shirt. You tried to muffle your moans, which soon flew out of the window as Billy added a second finger soon after. You had sex before but those guys never fingered you. Heck even the sex with them was nothing compared to what Billy could do to you with his two fingers. You wondered, if this is how good his fingers could make you feel, how amazing must it feel to be really fucked by him. 

Billy's intense gaze never left your face as he fucked you with his fingers, his pants were growing tighter by the minute, he knew Stu was in much the same position. Billy started scissoring his fingers, his thumb soon joining in to play with your clit. You started withering, but lucky for you and Billy, Stu had a tight grip on you. He had resumed sucking hickey's onto your neck. 

"I always knew you were tight. But fuck this is even better than I imagined. Can't wait to stuff you full with my dick." 

Billy's words only made you more wet, if that was even possible. Even with your pants still on you could hear the squelching sound your pussy made, feeling Stu's hard dick press into your lower back told you he liked what he was hearing too. Your skin felt so hot, one could think you had a fever, a soft sheen of sweat on your forehead and your cleavage formed. Stu wanted nothing more than to lick it off of the swell of your boobs. 

Suddenly Billy removed his fingers, making you whine in protest. Both boys chuckled at that. 

"What's the problem, pretty girl?" Stu's tone was mocking, but it only made you hornier. You didn't dare speak.

"Cat's got your tongue?" Billy's voice didn't sound any less taunting. You looked at them both pleadingly. Billy pulled his hand out of your pants, ready to lick his fingers clean, but Stu stopped him, gripping Billy's wrist. Stu leaned forward and closed his mouth around Billy's fingers, holding eye contact with the other one. Billy let out an audible breath through his nose. Your mouth dropped open as you watched the two. It made you realise that this was definitely not the first time these two have fooled around. You felt a bit honoured that they felt comfortable enough to show you this. Once Stu seemed satisfied he popped Billy's fingers out of his mouth, making a show of licking his lips. 

"Delicious." He kept grinning. Billy gave you a quick glance, before his eyes locked back onto Stu. He gripped the boy's shirt and pulled him closer, making you fall a little to the side, as their lips connected. You could see that it was all tongues and teeth, both of them groaning. Billy could taste you on Stu's tongue and it was driving him crazy. They parted and you could see a string of saliva connecting them. They grinned at each other, then their gaze turned back to you, making you feel even hotter than before. Their look was almost predatory, making you gulp. In a matter of seconds they removed your clothes and you were back against Stu's chest, sitting almost at the edge of the couch. Billy was sitting in front of you, having a perfect view at your glistening folds. 

"Damn, Stu wish you could see this. Most perfect little pussy I have ever seen." Billy couldn't take his eyes off of it. You were squirming under Billy's gaze.

"Please Billy."

"Did ya hear that Billy? I think our precious girl wants something." You looked up at Stu, pleading with your eyes.

"I did hear. Though I am not sure what exactly it is that you want. Tell us Princess. Don't be shy."

"Yeah, don't be shy now."

You swallowed, grabbing onto every ounce of confidence and self control you still owned. 

"Could you please put your mouth on my pussy Billy?" Your voice came out weaker than anticipated. You were afraid he didn't hear you, making you repeat yourself. But he did.

"Aw, of course, pretty girl. Can't leave the birthday girl hanging now, can I?"

You shook your head fast. Billy gave you one last grin, before diving in. Your hands gripped onto his hair in seconds. You always knew his mouth was good but this exceeded your expectations. You didn't care if your moans sounded pathetic, you only knew how good it felt having Billy suck on your clit, having two of his fingers in your pussy again. You were basically grinding against him, one of his hands squeezing your thigh. That would definitely leave a bruise you were sure, but you didn't mind in the slightest. Stu turned your face to the side so he could kiss you. Moaning against his lips as you could feel Billy switching it up, his thumb now rubbing your clit as his tongue was deep inside of you. 

Stu on the other hand was kissing you like his life depended on it. There was nothing of the uncertainty he had when you guys first shared your first kiss. But still sloppy, in a different kind of way. His tongue was massaging yours, one of his hands on your boobs again, toying with your nipples. He was biting your lip, almost drawing blood, making you squeal. 

Billy was looking up, groaning at seeing the two of you kiss. Your grip on his hair getting tighter by the second and he could feel your gummy walls clamping around his tongue. He began to lick and suck at your harsher. He desperately wanted to see you fall apart for him and Stu. You had to part from Stu with a gasp, breathing in deep. Stu pulled at your bottom lip. Your eyebrows were creased together. You were so close. Looking down at Billy you swore his eyes were glinting. He knew you were going to come, you could tell. Your lips were swollen, from the kiss with Stu, who was still playing with your nipples. Pulling and squeezing and twisting, the pain of it so pleasurable. This, paired with Billy's relentless mouth on your dripping pussy, seriously you were sure you would be dripping on the floor, wouldn't it be for Billy sucking it all up, were enough to send you flying over the edge. A high pitched moan left your lips, your thighs clamping around Billy's head, your hips lifting off of the edge of the sofa as your orgasm crashed through you. It has never felt so intense before. Stu was holding you close as Billy helped you ride out every last drop of your pleasure. 

Stu softly pecked the side of your head when you finally calmed down. Billy didn't waste a drop of your juice and you had to push his head away from you, releasing him from between your thighs. His chin and lips were wet from your arousal. His eyes almost black. He made a show of licking his lips and you could feel Stu shuffling behind you. 

Billy was the first to speak. "You ok sweetheart?"

You nodded. "I'm fucking fantastic." He gave you a cheeky grin. 

"Do you wanna continue orrrrr…" Stu spoke up behind you.

You chuckled breathless. "Definitely continue." 

Billy stood up helping you stand up on shaky legs. He gave you a cheeky grin at that, making you swat his chest, giggling. 

When Stu stood up he didn't waste a second to throw you over his shoulder, giving your ass a slap, groping it right after. He made his way up the stars, Billy right behind the two of you. 

Inside the room, Stu threw you onto the bed, making you bounce. Both of the boys looking at your boobs. You almost wanted to cover up from their intense staring. Stu was the first to snap out of it, removing his clothes, almost tripping as he took off his pants. His erection slapping against his lower stomach. You moaned quietly at the sight, biting your lip. The tip was a deep pink, already leaking precum, there was a slight curve upwards. He was definitely longer than your previous boyfriends and just a tad bit girthier. 

"Like what ya seeing babe?" He gave you a grin, but you couldn't see any of his usual silliness shine through. All you could see in his eyes was hunger. And you were pretty sure you were his next meal. He came stalking over to you, taking both your ankles into his hand he pulled you closer to him, making you lie down on your back in the process. As he crawled over you, you wrapped your legs around him, making him feel your wet heat on his throbbing dick. 

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this." He was almost growling.

"Then let's not waste any more time, yeah?" Your voice was dripping with excitement. Stu gave you a quick but forceful peck before lining up with your heat. He was rubbing his tip between your folds. Both of you were mesmerising as he slowly pushed inside of you. The both of you are moaning in unison. 

"Fuck Billy's right. 'S the most perfect little pussy. Shit you're grippn me so tight."

"Stu please move."

You were trying to rock against him but he was gripping your hips so hard there would definitely be handprint bruises. No chance of moving. 

"Shit wait a sec babe, don't wanna bust too soon. You feel so good around me."

You could hear a scoff behind you. Craning your neck you could see Billy standing on the other side of the bed. Naked. Your eyes immediately go to his dick. He was definitely girthier than Stu, not as long tho. His tip also a bit darker than Stu's. 

"What are you a fucking virgin Stu?" Billy was teasing.

"Shut up man, you wouldn't be able to control yourself either." 

With that Stu began to almost pull out entirely making you whine, which soon turned into a loud moan as he snapped his hips back into yours, sending you moving along the bed. Your head getting closer to Billy's dick as he was still standing on the edge on the other side. Stu's pace was relentless, reaching so deep inside you, you swear you could almost feel him inside your throat. He didn't hold back with his moans either. Ever the vocal type no matter what. You didn't mind though, it let you know that he was enjoying himself. Billy shuffled a little closer, gripping his dick. You were already salivating at the thought of having him inside your mouth. He twirled his tip on your lips, coating them in his precum. 

"Open up sweetheart."

You didn't need to be told twice, open your mouth eagerly. Billy gave an appreciative hum as he slowly slid into your mouth. You were gagging a little but still wanted more. 

Stu was still snapping into you, watching as you swallowed Billy's cock. 

"Damn you really are an eager little slut huh?"

Stu's speech was slightly slurred, completely drunk on your pussy. Billy was slowly fucking your mouth, tears were welling up in your eyes. You were loving every second of this. His hands gripped your boobs, squeezing them, using them as leverage too. They were making you see stars, especially when Billy pushed himself all the way in, holding you there for a few seconds. Stu groaned seeing your throat swell around Billy's dick. He couldn help but touch it. Then Billy pulled out, letting you take a breath. You were gagging, tears streaming out of your eyes. Once you inhaled enough air again you pulled Billy back in, eagerly taking him back into your mouth. Bobbing your head best you could in this position, sucking on the tip every time you came up. Stu started to rub circles on your clit, making you clamp down on him.

He let out a breathy "Fuck." You were growing closer by the second. You could tell by Stu's sloppy thrusts that he was nearing his end too. Billy started to throb inside your mouth. He was ready to pull out and came all over your tits but you had a different plan. Pulling him back in. Billy groaned at your eagerness, coming down your throat almost instantly. You swallowed everything eagerly. Then he pulled out, with a satisfied hum. He softly strokes your cheek, bending down to give you a peck. Then he left to go get everyone some water to drink.

Stu gripped your cheeks, squeezing them and kissing you hungrily, still drilling into you. You were whimpering, so close now. He was still rubbing your clit and your legs began to shake and you came, with a high pitched scream. With a loud groan Stu followed right behind you and came deep inside of you. Riding out both of your orgasms, your legs still shaking. He came to a halt, dropping on top of you, making all air leave your lungs. You had half a mind telling him to get off, but it was actually nice to have his weight on top of you. You wrapped your arms around him, softly scratching his back. He was letting out satisfied hums.

"Am I interrupting?"

You hadn't noticed Billy entering the room again. His voice had an edge to it. 

"Don't be silly. Come here."

Your voice, a little scratchy, was still soft when saying this. 

He let out a huff but still came over to the bed. Stu finally moved, pulling out of you and laying down beside you. Billy took his place on your other side, giving you an open water bottle that you could drink. You gave him a thankful kiss and you could swear he was actually blushing a little at this, like he hasn't just eaten you out like a starved man and fucked your throat moments ago. You were gulping down the water while Billy cleaned you up between your legs with a rag. Once he was done he threw it to the side not caring where it landed really.

You were snuggling up to him, Stu close behind you, enjoying the comfort of the post orgasmic bliss. You closed your eyes, very tired now. You guys should talk about what just happened and what it meant for your friendship but you were too tired. 

You were almost asleep when suddenly Stu jolted upward. "Oh!"

"Shit! What?!"

You almost had a heart attack. 

"We forgot to give you your birthday present!I'll be right back!"

With that he was out of the bed walking downstairs to get your present. 

"Is he serious now? That could have waited till morning"

You dropped your head onto Billy's chest.

Billy just shrugged. 

Stu came back in with a big smile on his face, jumping onto the bed.

You were sitting up, the blanket dropping into your lap. Revealing your chest, distracting Stu again. You giggled and gently lifted his head again.

"Concentrate Stu."

"Right, sorry. They are just -" He made a motion with his hands towards your boobs.

You rolled your eyes playfully. 

"He is not wrong, you know?"

You giggled.

Stu gave you a little box adorned with a bow.

"You didn't have to get me anything you know that right?"

"Oh we know."

"Yeah but we wanted to. So just enjoy it and say thank you." Billy nudged you. 

You gave them both a kiss. "Thank you."

Smiling softly you opened the box, revealing a delicate bracelet with two charms on it. 

"Get it? The charms represent Billy and me!" Stu was so excited. 

"That is so sweet!" You were  touched. 

"I knew you'd like it!" Stu threw an arm around your shoulder. 

"See? This is me and this is Billy."

He pointed to the little headphones first. It was rare to see him without them and his cd player these days. Then he pointed at the little knife, with a drop of gemstone blood in it. Definitely Billy. He was obsessed with horror stuff.

"It is perfect. Thank you so much."

And you meant it. Billy put it on for you and you looked at it adoringly. You put your arm down and looked at them both happily. 

"Soooooooo…"

"So?"

"I mean I guess I just wanna know what this means for our friendship?"

"Well we should upgrade it."

"To what?"

"A relationship. Duh." Stu said it like it was the most obvious thing.

"You sure?"

"Sweetheart, we've wanted you for ages."

You looked at Billy like he grew a second head.

"You did?!"

"Yeah. You never noticed?"

Shaking your head you looked at the both of them. 

"Guess you are stuck with us now."

Stu grinned from ear to ear.

You rolled your eyes smiling. 

"Like I wasn't before."

"Yeah but now it will be even harder for you to get rid of us."

"Good thing I wanna keep you both."

"Mh. You better." Billy was smiling but there was something else to his tone. You almost wouldn't notice. And you didn't but Stu did, keeps grinning. 

"Of course. I would be lost without you!" You held the back of your hand against your forehead for dramatic effect, giggling. 

Billy groaned playfully. "Damn what have I gotten myself into?"

You and Stu shoved him, laughing until a yawn interrupted you. 

"Alright you two. It's time to get some sleep."

"Yes dad." Stu was rolling his eyes. 

"Damn Stu I didn't know you were into that." You began laughing again.

"Oh you will be surprised about all the things I'm into."

He gave you a mischievous grin. Biting your lip you grinned as well.

"Can't wait to find out."

"Ok stop it you two horny fuckers."

" Pf.  Just you wait until you find out what Billy's into. He actually loves it when he can ca-" Stu couldn't finish the sentence, as Billy hit him across the head.

"Ow!"

"Sleep. Now. We can get into kinks another time." With that Billy was laying down.

"I can't wait. You will be surprised what I'm into." You hummed and got comfy next to Billy, who put an arm around you.

Stu was bouncing next to you.

"Ohhh is it something freaky?"

"Stu…"

"No, now you got me curious!"

"Stu."

"I won't be able to sleep! Give me a hint! Please!" He was basically begging now.

You rolled your eyes. 

"It might involve getting nicked with a knife. Now come here and sleep, I won't say more."

You could feel Billy tensing up a bit, not knowing that this little bit of information riled him up again. Stu's mouth had dropped open. Not believing what he heard. Now he was really intrigued. You could feel he was about to say something else so you stopped him before he could.

"Sleep. Now." 

Stu cuddled close behind you. You were out like a light in seconds.

Stu and Billy looked at you.

"We really hit the jackpot with her."

"Totally!"

Billy was almost asleep when Stu spoke up again.

"You think she would let us carve an S and a B into her? Small ones of course. Maybe on her hip."

Billy groaned at that, now the idea will be stuck with him. But that was a conversation for another time.

[deandoesthingstome]

Exactly What His Heart Meant

Pairing: Pornstar!August Walker x Pornstar!Reader

Summary: August Walker has wanted you forever. You want him, too. It's perfect.

Word Count: 7.4K

Warnings: This is Pornstar!AU, okay? 18+ ONLY Drug and alcohol use, mentions of a three-way, generic anal, bad business practices, oral sex (F & M receiving), vaginal fingering, anal fingering, P in V missionary and doggy style, sex toys, pegging (gasp - yes I'm going there), aftercare. Love.

A/N: I am nervous, okay? This is not your average everyday August Walker, but I love him and I hope you do too. I have been wanting to do this since forever. I've posted a few blurbs in WIP tag games here and here. I gushed about the song that kicked the whole thing into high gear and the fic title is taken from "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?" - Rod Stewart. Both songs can be found on the playlist.

Bonus points if you can find the nods to other HC characters. There is definitely one, maybe two or three if you squint hard. (These points don't get you anything, sorry.)

Playlist: Listen to the music of the night on Spotify here.

Header and dividers by me.

August owned his entrance like no other. The studio made sure to send a PA ahead to prep the DJ and once he heard the first strains of “Night Fever” spill out of the club, he stepped out of the shadows and headed to the entrance, ready to start his decent down into the lights and glitter and debauchery as soon as Here I am sounded through the speakers and a spotlight made its way to him.

The already celebratory crowd went wild as he struck the iconic pose and thrust his hips in time to the rhythm. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face if he tried, no matter how he had protested his employer’s choice for him. He would have sworn on any stack of bibles he didn’t like disco and abhorred polyester, yet here he was gyrating away. First time for everything. Starting with enjoying this awards night and after-party.

Each one prior had a story already attached to it from the beginning of the night, starting with his inaugural ceremony and guaranteed newcomer award, and trailing through the end of every relationship he thought would be the one. He finally stopped assuming because they said yes to the event after a few months or more of dating, that meant they were saying yes to him forever. The next few years were brutal and lonely, not that he couldn’t find some starfucker to take home at the end of the night, but that wasn’t what he craved.

Tonight was Club Retro themed. Award ceremony glamor as usual, but a costume change was required somewhere on the way from the venue to the after-party if you wanted to really up your game. Arrive in club gear of whichever era you wanted, but arrive dressed to impress nonetheless. He wasn’t the only actor a studio had convinced to go for the Travolta look, but he was probably the most surprised to find himself exhilarated by it and the attention it received. He kept all three pieces of the white suit, but he ditched the dark blue shirt altogether. Maybe he didn’t have a full head of hair, but the ‘stache and chest hair on display held 70’s swagger and he was running with it. 

He grabbed a glass of champagne from one tray and a pill from another and set off into the crowd in search of the rest of his crew. He caught glimpses of the fresh-faced sweetheart who’d just inked a new deal grinding on the studio’s number two out on the dance floor and knew his plan to link them up had worked. The fans would eat them up, he knew it. 

Knew it better than the owner, who wanted August to break her in. Ethan had begun making some really bad casting and scripting decisions and August was glad his contract was coming to an end. He was starting to feel like he wanted to just blow the whole studio up, let loose with all the bullshit he knew about his boss and how he ran his business. The industry could be awful, plenty of horror stories, but August had initially thought he’d found a place to call home. 

What he’d begun to uncover about Ethan Hunt could fill a manifesto that would take the place down. And as crazy as it sounded, though he was tired of breaking in new talent, he wasn’t ready to be the reason all his friends lost their jobs. Not everyone was in a position to land on their feet. Regardless, at least now, with the sweetheart and the roughneck on a solid trajectory he wouldn’t be in the middle of something if tonight panned out the way he hoped.

Though, to be honest, it wasn’t looking good. He’d found his crew and then scanned the room for her with no luck. 

“She hasn’t shown up yet,” his agent purred in his ear. Kelis was always down to party whenever he had an itch no one else would scratch, and he appreciated how decidedly non-attached she always was. No clingy phone calls or pouting over non-existing anniversaries. It aggravated him, though, that she was looking to seduce him here, tonight of all nights. Especially because she knew where his mind would likely be, but it didn’t stop her from begging for his cock every now and then. He could tell she’d gotten the hint his look gave by the way she toned it way down to answer his next question.

“A few from her studio have shown up but she wasn’t with them and they wouldn’t tell me where she was. It was all very secretive. So at least let me have my way with you on the dance floor if you won’t take me home tonight. Please?”

He relented and found himself having the time of his life. Song after song flew by as he grabbed water then whisky, a line, then water, another line, then whisky, water, whiskey, whisky, water. Dancing with Kelis gave him a chance to forget about his frustration with his studio and everyone, here or not, for the moment. He let himself be free and felt a weightlessness he hadn’t in a long time. No call sheets waiting at home. No scenes to prep. No “scripts” to read. Tonight and the next two weeks were his and his alone. Time for some decisions.

He noticed the crowd had begun to thin, and realized he wanted some fresh air, so he peeled himself away from Kelis with a promise-to-return kiss and tap on the ass. He took the elevator to the rooftop bar and found himself a little amazed at the streaks of light just beginning to emerge in the distance. Time had really flown while he was having fun.

He was about to head towards the drinks when he spotted her leaning against the railing in the opposite direction. The white-golden hair flowing behind her was an obvious wig. He’d seen her step to the stage to accept multiple awards tonight (or is it last night now?) and she had looked just as gorgeous with her natural color as she did all done up in her Farrah waves now. An unexpected jolt of excitement coursed through his veins as he realized she’d also opted for a 70’s look, complete with a scandalously (though by whose standards?) short metallic silver skirt with slits on either side and what he assumed was a matching top, though with her back to him as she peered out over the awakening city, all he really saw where the two thin silver chains that criss-crossed across her back. They looked like they would hold nothing up.

But she was alone and he knew it was now or never, so he strolled around the roof-top pool to step up beside her.

"I’m glad I finally found you. I wanted to congratulate you. It's not often a producer gets awards for both behind and front of camera work," he opened.

She turned her head and beamed a dazzling smile in return before thanking him and offering her own congratulations along with her hand and then a surprisingly friendly hello hug.

“I saw you nailed Best Male Performer and Best Anal again. Your Missionary: Impossible series was a true stroke of genius. I wish I had thought of it first.”

“So she’s not immune,” August thought as he peeled himself away from her warm body. “She remembers my name.” At least she recognized his star status. Maybe she hadn’t forgotten him. He pressed his lips to the back of her hand and trained his eyes on her through his lashes.

“You know I’d love to have you join the cast,” he spoke as he finished the hello hand kiss and lifted his head to gaze directly at her. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen eyes that scream ‘spy’ quite as much as yours do.”

“And I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a producer acting for another studio. You’ve got balls to ask, that’s for sure,” she laughed, tossing back the rest of her whisky before grabbing another off the tray passing by.

“Where’ve you been all night? I tried to find you right after the ceremony, but you disappeared and I had to run for a wardrobe change.” August tossed a casual grin and motioned at the cheesiness of his costume, though inside he was kicking himself. 

The point of engaging wasn’t to offer her a part. How ridiculous! He’d been doing that for months now and she wasn’t biting. No. Tonight he was going to get answers. Why had she consistently denied him another shot with her? It had to be more than just the technicalities of trying to untangle ownership and percentages filming another studio’s producer would bring. She broke into his train of thought with an explanation of her quick and sudden departure from the award banquet and why she hadn’t arrived at the after party locale for what had to be at least a few hours.

“Already prepping material for next year. We had a newcomer attend with the studio tonight. He’s an absolute stud. Looking to get his name out there so we filmed his first scene backstage.”

August’s hopeful heart sank a little. He couldn’t expect her not to keep putting out material just because his advances might finally be successful, but it would take all his cool charm and guile to woo her if she was already cock-drunk tonight. He put out another feeler.

“You look well put back together already,” he commented, eyes tracing her figure with obvious intent.

“Oh not me. No, I was directing. Looking to nab that ‘behind the scene newcomer’ award next year,” she beamed, her smile still welcoming. “No, Mikey did a little gonzo three-way for his first official movie with Darkk Angel. We’re releasing it next week after a quick trip to post and then have him lined up for three more scenes next month. I’m wondering if we can talk AVN into a “most prolific” award.” Her laughter was infectious and he found himself with a wide grin, verging on goofy in spite of his aim.

“You’ve never directed? How have I missed that?” August sought to focus attention away from whoever this Mikey kid was and back on her completely, then mentally kicked himself again for admitting something that could only make him look desperate and maybe a little creepy. From his statement, and along with all the official asks from his agent, she had to think he was a stalker, completely obsessed with her. 

Not that he wasn’t. Not since that very first time. Her “first’ anal scene. He understood she had to be a little overwhelmed at that shoot with so many people on set. She had clearly already fucked the director (for a scene) and was now just taking on a few actors who were already on a rise. It was his last commitment to the old studio and then he was off to a new contract with Hunt. God, he wished he could have taken her with him. As it was, the only thing he kept was her scent that lingered not long enough.

"You know, I've asked my agent about another scene with you more times than any other actor. He never has a good enough reason to tell me no. What gives?" August inquired.

She debated telling him the truth. That she was completely enamored of him despite, only having met once, and afraid to ruin her own fantasy. Yes, she thought about him often. She’d be lying if she said otherwise.

But what if he refused her counter-offers? What if he didn't play the way she had come to discover she wanted sometimes, needed even?

She could accept if his big dick in her pussy or ass was all he'd agree to again for one scene. But she wanted more. More than a scene. More than a spectacle.

"Industry's hottest stars finally fucking again!" she imagined the trade headlines would scream, not bothering to temper her own ego about her status.

And which studio got the rights? His or hers? Of course she would never give up the rights to those shots, those stills, that video. It had been years since any studio other than the one she owned had any rights to any images of her. Why August Walker didn't make the same professional move she had was beyond her, but at least she could play the upper hand if it came down to it. It was power to own the rights to your own material and that power trumped his studio contracts. Or at least she'd make that case. Plus Ethan Hunt was a little bitch and she’d be damned if she contributed to his profits in any way.

Still, she couldn’t get past the concern that having his big dick in her ass again would ruin her for anyone else ever again. It wasn't the size. Hell, she'd had two almost equal to him in there just the other day.

No. It was the fantasy. Not only what she already knew of his prowess, though if she’d improved over time, and she knew she had, he had to have gotten better too. But also what she imagined she knew based on the stories she'd heard. Stories about his true personality as well as the image she made up in her head based on tidbits of their past and innuendos of his present.

On set, she'd heard he’d become a bit of a prick. Even worse when the storyline called for Daddy. Not that it didn't make her wet to watch. And daydream about. Calling him Daddy, mmmm.

Except that wasn't her. Not her kink. Not her need. Not really.

And off set? Well, lips are usually loose in the industry, but somehow very few factual stories about dating August Walker were out there. Most of what she'd heard was easily dispelled rumor.

No, he wasn't into animal play. Either kind. Good.

No, he didn't force his partners to sleep in separate rooms after finishing. Why would someone even start that rumor? To what end? 

Her private private detective had tracked down the source and verified quickly. It was a little bit of column a, a little bit of column b. The studio was looking to cash in on the mystery and intrigue of their dashing playboy, and a jilted date wanted more. Who wouldn't want more of him? But that choice was self-sabotaging to say the least.

She was well aware that some women, and men for that matter, liked to imagine their favorite actor to be the world's largest asshole. No, not that way. 

That was the way she liked to imagine him. And the basis for her declination. He'd never say yes. She was sure of it.

And yet here he was. Blushing at the mere mention. Maybe she should have countered with that when he first started seeking her out. But she hadn't been ready to give up the rush she felt every time a message from Hunt Club studios appeared in her inbox.

August felt the heat rise in his cheeks and knew someone out there would say he was blushing, but August Walker does not blush.

As she leaned in, he swiped another surreptitious peek at her gorgeous and barely covered tits, though he was so smooth no one could have seen this time. Not that it mattered. He was right about the thin silver chains holding onto barely anything up front. Where she found tissue paper thin metallic material, he had no idea but her nipples showed through what little fabric there was making up the plunging neckline of the deep-vee tank, as if they weren’t also practically peeking out of the top as it was. She had them on display for a reason. But he was trying to make a move here. Trying to differentiate himself from the rest of the industry players and hangers-on hoping for a hook-up after the awards.

Champagne and liquor had flowed all night, powder cut, pills popped. He was tipsy but it was really the sunrise inching its way into the sky behind her, here on this rooftop bar next to the pool full of drunken, naked bodies, and the angelic halo circling the crown of her head that had him staring back into her eyes in no time, enraptured. Well, that and her reply.

“I have certain … desires that I’m not convinced you’d be amenable to and I didn’t want to alienate you.”

He went on to ask, no - insist, she explained her terms, right here right now. And she obliged, clarifying that she didn’t intend to be filmed at all. That her interest in climbing into bed with him was related only to the burning desire she’d felt to track him down, beg him for more, practically every day since that shoot. And the thing that convinced her not to bother was the never ending stream of talent she’d seen draped around him months, years later. 

But she wouldn’t, couldn’t deny that she wanted him. Wanted to relive that moment and then build on it. Take the scene farther than was written. Fuck him right off the page and into her life forever. It was indescribable the way he felt listening to her narrate her desire to own him. She was only mentioning the bedroom, but he got the feeling she meant the heart as well.

Still, she was being mysterious with the details, so August began to mention specifics. What he wouldn’t do.

"I won't lick your boots," he'd said with a grin after a shorter than expected list, still wavering on if he actually meant to convey the opposite.

"Maybe not," she replied before leaning in and whispering in his ear as he tilted down to meet her. It was clear from her next sentence that she’d finally figured out he’d say yes. He was practically begging for it right here in front of these few end-of-the evening stragglers. "But you will take every inch of me."

Negotiations had already begun and this was just ink on the dotted line. Along with a string of consent questions with compatible answers and now she knew his safeword and he knew hers. It wasn’t what it used to be. Because things can change. But not his desire for her.

He brushed past her non-binding handshake and drew her in for a confirmation kiss, hands gently pulling her waist towards him. “You still smell the same. It drives me crazy,” he admitted before pressing his lips to hers with a smile. Then he broke the kiss, which had begun to turn lascivious even for the nature of the event, afraid they’d never make it off the roof-top if he didn’t.

He gave a deceptively shy smile and knowing nod to Kelis as he passed her on his way out with the true object of his desire draped along his arm.

She sent her limo off with whatever crew was left at the party before climbing into the back of his. They had no sooner pulled away from the curb and begun to make their way to his hi-rise apartment building than the driver’s shield went up and she went down, unzipping his trousers and slipping her hand in to coax him out. 

She had gotten incredibly better at sucking dick in these interim years. But it was like she was finally home. Like her mouth opened magically around him to hold him close and taste his skin. It took everything in his power not to blow his load down her throat in the car. He wanted to be in her pussy when he came and there wasn’t much he wanted more at this moment.

He managed to pull her off and get her back on the seat, legs spread and ready to take his shoulders as he slipped his tongue deep inside her core. Moving the floss she’d bothered to pull on out of his way wasn’t hard in the least. He had her screaming by the time the limo pulled up outside his building.

August draped his suit jacket over her shoulders before he helped her out of the car and into the lobby. When the elevator doors closed around them, she turned and pressed him back into the wall, staring up at him with hunger and power equally.

“That’s the last time you call the shots tonight. I’m taking my shoes off as soon as we walk in your door, so you can’t accuse me of asking you to lick my boots. But you will be on your knees and you will put your mouth back on my pussy and do that one more time before anything else happens tonight. Understood?”

He stared down at her with amusement that morphed into understanding that ended in solemnity before the ding at his floor broke the silence.

“Yes ma’am,” he finally replied, resigned to her whim. He opened the lock with practiced ease, nothing shaking out of fear but only vibrating with anticipation. How had he missed her meaning all those years ago? 

“I wish I could show you how this feels,” she’d whispered in his ear as he held her chest tight against his. “But it’s nothing compared to how it feels from behind.”

At the time he thought she had meant for him to turn her around, still on top of him but back to chest. So he did. And she liked it. She came like a banshee and that squeeze is something they can’t fake. That’s what wins the awards anyway. The audience knows it’s acting, but when they can tell it’s something the actor actually wants, when the chemistry is kinetic, the high is so much higher. 

Clearly she’d had so much more in mind. When she came back down, he made sure to check the front door lock before he turned back to scoop her quivering body into his arms and carry her down the hall to his bedroom.

“Don’t think I’m anywhere near done with you just because I’m a wreck right now,” she called to him as he set her onto his bed. “Where are you going?”

“I would never think you’d consider that enough for an evening. I want to freshen up, if you don’t mind. May I?” August quirked an eyebrow awaiting her response and it was clear he’d come right back to the bed if she forbade it. No questions asked. But she allowed it and that only made him ache for her more. He’d be quick.

“Damn right you will!” she called out after him before ridding herself of her own garments. 

Her hand must have found its way to the soaking mess between her legs and this is how August found her when he stepped out of the bathroom a very short while later, rubbing a towel over his head after peeling it off his body. He watched her luxuriate in the slippery slide feel of her fingers dipping in and out, rubbing, pinching, pumping, pumping, pumping.

He dipped carefully onto the bed. He had no desire to startle her out of her joy, he only wanted to witness it up close. He crawled alongside her and watched as her chest heaves softened and listened as her sighs became longer. When she finally opened her eyes on a deep inhale, he smiled at her.

“May I join you?” So respectful.

“Kiss me,” she commanded, and while he heeded she lifted his arm and guided his hand between her legs. “And touch me,” she whispered into his mouth. 

He obeyed. His fingers drifted through her folds and made use of the slick that remained to press up into her. One, two, one, two. And now three. And now she’s grinding up against his hand and breaking the kiss to demand more and he’s giving it to her but it’s not enough, is it?

“More,” she cried out. “Fuck me, August.”

He was grateful at that moment for two revelations from the rooftop. He already knew his own status, testing often despite Hunt’s lackadaisical studio regulations. But she had shared that her studio adopted the standard of routine and regular testing early on and therefore she knew exactly what her status was, too. And, coupled with the fact that she had the implant, she had no qualms going bare. All these things led to the next thing he was grateful for and that was the feel of her pussy wrapped all the way around him as he slipped his prodigious cock deep inside her. 

He mused he could do this all night. Or rather all day and into the night, when the moon began to rise again. Because it wasn’t night at all. It was broad daylight now and it was streaming in through the mirrored windows. Nobody could see it, even if they did find themselves on level with the height of his apartment. But no curtains meant he could see the way the sunlight brightened her face and it made him want to see all of her.

“Will you take it off, too?” he asked, staring down at her while he pistoned his hips into hers and felt her open and warm around him. “Please?”

He wasn’t used to begging. As much as he wasn’t a blusher, he definitely wasn’t a beggar but he found himself wanting to do anything for her and she wanted him to beg. Or at least ask nicely. And he wanted to obey. For the first time, maybe ever, August Walker wasn’t in charge.

She obliged and pulled the wig off easily. It wasn’t even pinned on, there was so much bang to cover the cap. All that meant was she was able to free her natural hair with ease and he was thankful. Now she lay bare before him and he got to take a good long, up close and personal look before she took it all away.

Faster than he would have preferred she slipped back and eased him out, but turned just as quickly to take him in her mouth. August let his eyes fall closed while he relished the feeling of her mouth around his cock again, but just when it started feeling really good, it also started feeling too good. If she continued he was going to come and he really meant it when he decided he wanted to be inside her for that. And not her mouth.

“Please,” it was practically a whisper. She almost hadn’t heard. But she let go with a pop and asked.

“What was that?”

“Please,” he begged again, raspy but with sound this time, voice hitching as she took him back in her mouth for just the briefest of sucks.

“What are you asking for?”

When he pleaded again with a cracked voice, she smiled as she let go.

“What is it, August? Huh? What do you want? Or not want?”

“Please…please don’t.” he stuttered as she continued to toy with him. Dick in and then out of his mouth with no concern for his predicament.

“Say it, August. Ask nicely.”

“Don’t make me come,” he begged, even as she sank to wrap her lips around him once more. “Please.”

“If that’s what you want. You only have to ask. Nicely.” She was so proud of him and he could feel that. Could tell she’d do anything for him. And let him do anything for her.

“Let me fuck you,” he asked. “Please. Just ….”

“Don’t bother saying it, you and I both know 5 minutes turns into 20 in no time,’ she laughed with him as she lay back with her legs spread wide for him. He stayed kneeling between her legs and watched her face explode with pleasure as he rocked deep and strong inside of her. He wasn’t trying to overcome her, wasn’t looking to establish any kind of dominance. Not on purpose at least. Because the fact of the matter was, that no matter how much he wanted to let her be in charge, it just came so naturally to him. It was hard to drop that mantle. Especially while fucking into her and watching her fall apart around him.

Then she shook her head and through sheer will, dragged herself back from the precipice to snake an arm up his chest, fingers drifting to his neck and drawing him down against her. 

“Kiss me again, August,” she commanded and he obliged with no hesitation. It wasn’t that he couldn’t resist and instead put her right back in the trance his cock had caused, but he didn’t want to. They’d agreed on this night. Agreed what it would mean. He was finally getting what he’d craved all these years. And so was she.

Their tongues tangled while his fingertips traveled over velvety skin, her legs wrapped around hips, his thick member pistoned in and out of her wet and slippery cunt that she controlled so well. She hadn’t been wrong. August imagined he could stay like this forever if she’d let him, drowning in her glory, ego stroked with every gasp and whimper and cry of hers. It was music to his ears. He’d heard enough fake moans and pants over the years to know what the real thing sounded like and he never wanted to give it up.

When he felt her squeeze tight around him for the second time, he began to slow, sure that more than twenty minutes had passed but completely uninterested in confirming his suspicion. No, he wanted her on her knees again.

“Can I have you from behind?” he murmured in her ear after kissing his way along her cheek and neck. “Just for 5 minutes.”

She could feel his grin, but before she could compose an appropriate response, he’d shifted, changed tempo and hit a different spot that had her howling and fighting the urge to beg him for more. Even then brief respite she’d have while they switched positions should allow her to gather her wits and tamp down her desire to just let him rail her into the next day. Because tonight was for something more. So she pushed him back away from her, flipped and pulled herself to all fours while crawling towards the center of the bed.

With a seductive glance over her shoulder, she called to him, “Come and get it, stud.”

Five minutes in heaven. That’s all she was going to allow him. She pressed her chest down into the bed and let him drag her hips into the air, flesh captured under his strong fingers. She screamed into the sheets as August directed her pleasure with practiced skill and just when she felt she couldn’t hold on any longer, he slipped a saliva-coated thumb into her ass and sent her reeling. He’d timed it perfectly. 

“You’re done,” she fought through her haze to flip to her back and clarify. “We still have a deal, right?”

She watched him stroking himself lazy and slow to stay hard while his eyes blinked shut with relief almost involuntarily. 

“Yes,” he replied, his exhale full of yearning. “Will you show me?”

“Show you what, August? Hmm?” she asked with a tilt of her head, pleased he was finally ready to give in to what he’d already agreed to back on that rooftop.

“Show me how it feels.” It wasn’t a question, yet still not a command. He’d never dare to command her. Not until she was ready for him to. And that wasn’t tonight.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that since we met.”

All those years. All that time. August closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and told himself it’s fine. It’ll be fine. He pulled back a bit from the ledge that he wanted to step over for missing her meaning all along. As if she could read his mind, she spoke from somewhere that felt like a dream.

“I’m glad you waited though. I wasn’t ready either. I was trying to get over my nerves and thought a little brazen tease directed at the top talent on set would help. But I’ve discovered I really do like sharing that experience, knowing I can make a man feel the way he makes me feel. Make him understand how much better it is when it's from someone who cares."

When he opened his eyes, she was pulling herself up to her knees to meet him. He felt her hands trace along his chest as she pressed her lips to his. It was almost sweet, but definitely a relief. She really did want this as much as he did.

For a mini-eternity, they let their tongues tangle and hands roam. August shivered as her nails traced down his back with the perfect dig and smiled into her lips as he thought about the red lines he’d be left with the next day. He cradled the nape of her neck as even on knees he towered over her and let a hand drift down the soft skin of her side and around her waist to cup her ass.

When her hands finally landed in the same spot on him, he felt another layer of tension release as she caressed and squeezed each cheek with passion. She broke the kiss and nuzzled down his chest, landing on her elbows before him. With eagerness, she took hold of his still invigorated member, gave a few soft strokes, and then put him back in her warm, wet, inviting mouth. 

But this blowjob had an ulterior motive that August felt as soon as it turned sloppy and her saliva began to drip and pool around him. With a now slick hand, she slipped her fingers off the base of his cock and in between his legs, tracing past the waxed-bare skin off his balls and teasing his entrance.

She circled and smoothed and kneaded until he finally felt a finger ease past the first ring of muscle and he had to put a hand on her head to slow the bob that was already threatening to pull his orgasm too soon. Surely she didn’t want that, did she?

August dropped his head back with a groan of pleasure as she let her spit drop onto her fingers again before pressing a second digit inside, just beginning to open him up to all her possibilities. It already felt so, so good. If this was all she did for him, it was worth it, but not really what he wanted. He’d had a few other lovers tease him like this, but he always stopped them short, still too nervous to let them go all the way to where he needed.

He’d kept this part of himself secret, shared it with no one, tested it only when alone. He knew it was stupid to hide this craving, especially given how exposed he allowed himself to be on film. But this was something different. Something personal. Private. That’s what he told himself. And he let his stature in the industry dictate the type of man he was in a bedroom, with a woman but without the cameras, for far too long.

His head was spinning as her tongue licked his length and her fingers teased and touched. She was pressing and pushing deeper and when she finally found his spot it took every ounce of willpower to maintain composure. He still wanted more of her, still didn’t want to come yet.

It dawned on him then that she hadn’t brought an overnight bag with change of clothes for the morning or toys for the evening. Just her ridiculously sexy wisp of an outfit and a tiny clutch that couldn’t have hidden even a bottle of lube, let alone the tool she needed to fulfill their bargain. She’d promised him he’d take every inch of her. Could she really have meant only this? Was she expecting him to come as she beckoned inside him?

“I can hear your thoughts, August” she purred up at him with a smile, mouth off his dick, but fingers still toying with him. “I don’t want to stop here either. I’m sure you can help me out, can’t you?”

She felt him tense and knew he was weighing the pros and cons of admitting what she had guessed when he agreed to take her home immediately without offering to make a stop along the way. August had his own equipment. No doubt about it.

“It’s okay,” she soothed, removing her fingers completely and returning to her knees to kiss him hard and deep before speaking to him on his level. “You don’t have to hide anymore. Show me what you need.” 

She watched the seas of his eyes storm with fear before settling into calm as she held his gaze with no judgment, no mockery. She kissed him again, licked into the space between his lips and felt the passion as he held her tight, almost holding on for his life while he kissed her back.

When he finally broke free, he stepped back off the bed and opened the nightstand to remove a bottle of lube before he moved across the room to a mirrored armoire. He opened the doors and removed a sleek, black box which he brought back to place slowly on the nightstand, clearly deep in thought. And then he hesitated, hands resting on the lid of the box, head down.

“I don’t…” he started, and she felt a small ache in her heart. She had never seen him so vulnerable. Not that she spent much time alone with him at all, but this was truly a side she hadn’t quite expected after everything she knew about him.

“We can take our time, August,” she spoke with a careful tone and no desire to spook him. He remained still and she felt reassured he wasn’t running, not in his mind or his body. When he spoke, she had to stifle a small laugh for fear she would send him running from misplaced shame.

“I only mean, I don’t have a harness for you.” He turned, fingertips of only one hand still on the closed box, eyes scanning hers for understanding. And she understood completely.

She moved closer to the edge of the bed and grinned at him. “Oh, August. Oh baby, this is what has you worried? You think I can’t make it good for you if I’m not wearing it?” She watched this new layer of tension begin to melt away as he registered her words. “August Walker, I meant what I said and I can’t wait to fuck you however I can. And believe me, I know how to make it good.”

She waited for him to relax, to speak, to return to his usual manner and let her back in. Then she took a calculated breath, dropped the timbre of her voice, and called to him.

“And you’re going to let me, aren’t you August?”

Her eyes dropped just in time to see the twitch in his still hard-cock and she knew he was back and ready to let her have him. He flipped the lid to the lacquer box with one finger and revealed a small treasure trove of devices, any of which she’d be thrilled to treat him with. With no idea how prepared he really was, she let him choose. 

“Will you start with this?” August handed her not the smallest, but not the largest either and she accepted willingly. “It’s been a minute.”

With complete understanding she led him back into bed on his knees before grabbing the lube from the nightstand and setting about her business. Kisses first. Deep and hungry. She wanted his tongue down her throat and he obliged while she held the dildo and lube in one hand and stroked his rock hard cock with the other. 

Before too long, she’d dropped the toy to the bed and flipped the lid to the tube, using proprioception to drop several dollops onto her open hand before reaching between his spread legs while still commanding his kiss. Her fingers smoothed the viscous fluid over his entrance and dipped a little in with a finger before she reached for the prosthetic and smeared the rest around the tip and down the base.

Her lips left his reluctantly as she ordered him to hands and knees while she maneuvered behind him. With practiced skill, she massaged and manipulated her fingers inside him once more, listening for the moans and groans that told her he was ready for her to place the tip alongside a finger and ease the toy inside. She watched him carefully, moving slowly and waiting for him to relax fully before she slipped the whole thing in and he took it with the sweetest grunt.

“You’re doing so good for me, August. Just like I knew you would. Does it feel good?” she questioned, while gently pulling and pushing, twisting and pressing, smiling when he answered in the affirmative. With each motion she listened for the sounds that would tell her where and how it felt best and she was quick to learn his needs.

“Fuck…just like that,” he begged and hitched back into her, already wanting more.

“Impatient,” she teased lightly as she shifted to the side so she could both lean over to capture his lips again and still work the toy in and out of his slowly writhing body. She kept him wanting, shifting the speed and direction, for as long as he could last before he finally begged for the real thing.

She left him face down and ass up while she switched gear, careful to add more lube to both him and the larger phallus. But when she was ready to finally give him what he wanted, she paused for just a moment to consider orientation. She was certain positioning him to face the mirror would be too much for this first time together, but there would be others, she was sure now.

Other times to see the exquisite pain she knew would soon drip down his face as she wielded the apparatus and gave him every inch he asked for. She ran a hand up his back and grabbed onto his shoulder for more leverage as she worked him into a frenzy. He was bucking back into her and the moans that drifted from his lips were music to her ears. All the practice and care she’d taken, learning how to please a lover this way were paying off.

She knew how it felt, knew how he was riding each high and low. Watched him relax into his pleasure, at times letting her control him completely before he shifted his hips and dug into the bed with hands and knees to find purchase that would allow him to grind hard onto the sizable dildo she brandished with expertise. She’d go all night like this if he wanted.

As his circuits finally broke, she could see the waves of pleasure begin to ripple along his spine. He was coming furiously hard, perhaps harder than he had in a long time, no matter how many uses this toy of his had gotten on his own. She was that good at sensing and feeling and pushing and pulling exactly how and when and where he needed.

And August definitely needed. That much was abundantly clear as he collapsed fully to the bed, panting and gasping for air as he rode the waves of his lingering orgasm. She could see him twitching and knew the feeling because it was exactly how she felt after everyone of the orgasms he’d given her tonight. Like an explosion of sensation she never wanted to come down from and she’d given that to him finally.

She left him to catch his breath and stepped to the bathroom to run warm water over a soft washcloth and grab a fresh towel on the way back. When he was cleaned and dry, she tucked into the covers with him and pulled him to her, guiding his head to her chest.

“You feel okay? Need anything else right now?” she asked him quietly as her hand drifted up and down his back.

“I wanted to come inside you,” August admitted with an exhausted sigh.

“We’re gonna have a lifetime of that.”

Everything HC Taglist: If this isn't your thing, no hard feelings? (as always, let me know if you want on or off; if you've asked and your aren't here, try me again but know that Tumblr sometimes doesn't let me tag everyone.)

@sillyrabbit81 @mayloma @geralts-yenn @raccoon-eyed-rebel @kebabgirl67 @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @sweetdreamsofgelato @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @alexakeyloveloki @marantha @aireraume @angelmather1 @lizzystuffsthings @enchantedbytomandhenry @omgkatinka @littlefreya @avengersfan25 @just-chirpin @thesaucynomad @valacirca @henryownsme @summersong69 @foxyjwls007 @peyton-warren @irishavengersassemble @brattymum96 @ellethespaceunicorn @juliaorpll78 @martha-oi @cardierreh15 @cinnamoroll-things @caramariehurst @zombicupcake3 @openup-yourmind @shellyshellshell @nickfowlerrr @greensleeves888 @misshinson @thelastsock @princessaxoxo @justjulie1105 @minimin1993 @agniavateira @sammat97 @meb79 @kittenofdoomage (as always Rhi. Smooches!)

[thruheavenandhighwater]

Pairing: Eddie Munson/ Female OC

Requested By: NA

Word Count: 3,457

Inspired entirely by @eddieandbird and this lovely Eddie note. Thank you so much for allowing me to write this fic and letting me use your art for the header. I really hope I've done you and the note justice. All of my love 🥰

Part Two: Prom Night

Eddie Munson Masterlist Stranger Things Masterlist Series Masterlist

~~~~~

"And, finally, your reminder for prom tickets. Next Friday at lunch is your last chance to buy tickets before the dance."

Principal Higgins' voice echoed through the empty hallways of Hawkins High. Students who were packed into classrooms began to exchange excited words under the too bright florescent lights.

Eddie Munson sat in his first period history class, shoulders hunched over the small desk. His ears perked at the mention of the prom. He had bought a ticket weeks ago. The cheerleader who was running the ticket table on that particular Wednesday morning seemed surprised to see him in line. He didn't blame her. He was surprised to find himself there. But a moment of Henderson fueled bravery had landed him there, standing between basketball jocks and science nerds.

She sat beside him suddenly. Her dark hair was teased extra high today. He loved the way it bounced just slightly as she sat down. She smiled at him, baring her perfect teeth as she offered him a friendly "Good morning." His lips drew into a tight line as he nodded quickly.

This had become something of a routine over the school year. She would greet him and he would try to hide his sweaty palms when he smiled back at her. She was one of the only people in school who looked at him as anything more than a scapegoat for unfounded anger.

She was sweet to him. Genuinely sweet. When she brought brownies to class for her birthday two months ago, she offered Eddie one first. She even asked if he wanted a corner piece. He didn't, he told her, opting for a middle cut. "The middle is the best part, anyway," she'd told him with a smile as she handed the brownie to him wrapped in a white napkin.

Eddie's crush on her was nothing new. Quite the opposite, if he was honest with himself. It had started in middle school. Sixth grade, to be exact. That was the year she came back from summer vacation six inches taller with a smile full of braces. She was breathtaking.

His crush only grew each year. He watched as she smiled to everyone in the halls. The way she so easily made friends impressed and scared him. She was so open, so giving with her energy. She drew people to her like a magnet and Eddie was no exception.

When Mrs. Ballard had assigned her the seat right next to him on the first day of school he'd initially been happy. One could have even called it excitement. But sitting next to her everyday proved difficult. He sat next to her and watched her, day after day.

He watched the way she smiled to herself when she got an answer right. He watched the way her styles changed with the seasons. Skirts and t-shirts in August gave way to snow boots and heavy sweaters in January. He always thought she looked incredible, no matter what she wore.

But what he loved watching the most was when she was focused. Like, really focused. She'd cross one knee over the other beneath her desk, her foot tapping against the metal leg of the desk. She drew her bottom lip between her teeth. If she was really stumped on something she'd tap the eraser end of her pencil to her temple, like she was trying to dislodge the information she was looking for.

Eddie had spent the entirety of the school year fending off well meant advice from every member of the Hellfire Club. Dustin, specifically, had been trying to convince him to ask her out for months. As soon as the curly headed freshman caught wind of his crush he made his personal mission to get them together. Over the course of the past eight months Dustin Henderson had offered up no less than a dozen half baked ideas. And one that was actually pretty decent.

"Ask her to prom," Dustin had instructed one night as he helped Eddie clean up after a Hellfire campaign. The way the younger boy enunciated every word annoyed Eddie. "It's your last shot! You're really gonna let her get away without ever even trying?" He hated when the little shit was right.

So now here he sat. Two weeks to prom, a ticket sitting on his dresser, and no date. His fingers flexed and relaxed repeatedly in his lap. He wiped his sweaty palms on his knees before flipping to an empty page in his notebook.

Hey

Was that too simple? Was it stupid? How the fuck is he supposed to ask the most wonderful person he'd ever met to a stupid school dance? It felt wrong. The idea of passing the scribbled note to her, if one word could even be called a note, made his stomach hurt.

So he didn't. He closed his notebook and tried to ignore the way her perfume smelled for the rest of class. He nearly lept to the other side of the classroom when the bell rang.

"In a hurry?" She asked with a smile as she shoved her books into her purple backpack. He could only offer a shy, tight-lipped smile, a single breath from his nose by way of a laugh. His notebook burned in his fingers as he gripped it tightly. He watched as she walked away through a row of desks. "Have a good one, Eddie." She said, waving before walking out of the door.

Lunch that day was almost unbearable for Eddie. He knew the guys would ask him about her. They always did. Her name was more often than not the first word spoken as Eddie took his seat at the head of their table.

"You're fucking with me right now," Henderson groaned, his face landing in his open palm.

"Prom is in two weeks!" Jeff told him, as if the date had mysteriously slipped Eddie's mind.

Eddie rolled his eyes as he pulled an open snack bag from his black metal lunch box. He knew when the prom was. He knew he was running out of time. What he didn't know was how she would react. And the fear of not knowing was holding Eddie in place.

"She's gonna say no anyway," he told them quietly.

"You don't know that," Mike commented from his seat. He poked at the school lunch slop on his tray blindly, his eyes trained on Eddie.

"The answer is always gonna be no if you don't ask." He had to admit that he hated how often Henderson was right. "I'm giving you until Friday," he said, dropping his fork to his tray. A muted metallic clang echoed from in front of him. "If you haven't asked her yet I'm doing it for you. I can- we can't sit around and watch this anymore. Right, boys?" He asked the table, earning a round of slightly louder than necessary agreements from the club members around him.

Eddie's appetite left in a hurry. He knew that his friends meant well. They wanted what they thought was best for him. But the nagging voice in his head that told him not to try was getting louder and harder to ignore.

His uncle, the man who Eddie thought he got his perceptiveness from, was more gentle in his approach as Eddie's love guide. When Eddie had told him that he bought a prom ticket he didn't seem surprised. At least, not the same kind of surprised that everyone else was.

"Who's the lucky girl?" He asked, ashing his cigarette into the coffee can turned ashtray that sat between them.

Eddie's smile was so wide he had to duck his head, his chin hitting his chest as his dark curls forged a curtain around his cheeks. Wayne saw it anyway. He always saw Eddie, even when the younger man would have rather stayed hidden.

Wayne listened intently and his nephew gushed about the girl who sat beside him in history. He felt like he already knew her. He'd watched Eddie's feelings develop and change over the years. He knew how special this girl was to him before he even asked the question. There was a moment of silence shared between the two as they passed an old Zippo between each other, one last cigarette before bed.

"'m afraid to ask her," Eddie admitted as he exhaled a cloud of smoke into the night air.

"Why's'at?"

Eddie sighed, the long, thoughtful kind of sigh that only came before a moment of unfiltered honesty. "What if she says no?"

Wayne was quiet. His thumb toyed idly with the butt of his cigarette as he chose his next words carefully. "That's part'a life, son." He finally said before bringing the cigarette to his lips. "But that don't mean you shouldn't try."

Eddie thought back to that conversation as he sat silently amongst his friends. They were right. Uncle Wayne was right. He knew that he was the only thing standing in his own way of finding out once and for all.

The following three days were torturous for Eddie. Tuesday she'd shown up to class in a new dress. The simple pink fabric made infinitely more beautiful once she put it on. He couldn't ask her today, he decided. She looked too good and she'd definitely say no. Wednesday, she greeted him like normal and he felt his stomach twist itself into knots at her smile. She seemed extra happy. No reason for him to ruin it by asking her to prom.

And today, Thursday… was the worst. This morning she was late for class. She showed up fifteen minutes into Mrs. Ballards lesson with a tardy slip from the office, rambling out an excuse as she handed it to their teacher.

"My car wouldn't start and I- I had to call my dad and-"

"Just take your seat," she was cut off by their teacher.

She nodded and walked quickly to her seat. Eddie watched as she rifled through her backpack, her shoulders tense. She set the bag down with a defeated huff. She hadn't found what she was looking for.

Without thinking Eddie's hand breached the invisible wall he'd erected between them. The end is his pencil tapped lightly to her elbow as she stared at the chalkboard like a lost deer in headlights.

She jumped, startled at the intrusion. But her shock melted to gratuity as her eyes landed on the stubby eraser at the end of his pencil. She took it from him with the hand opposite the arm that he'd tapped. Her pinky and ring finger wrapped around his hand as she mouthed a silent thanks. His cheeks flushed with warmth at her touch. It was electrifying.

His leg bounced under his desk for the rest of class. It was now or never, he thought. Tomorrow was the deadline that Henderson had imposed on him. And there was a part of him that really believed his underling would follow through. He wouldn't give him the chance.

Glancing at the clock at the front of the classroom he realized that he only had a few minutes left before she'd be gone. He flipped to the page in his notebook that he'd scribbled a single word on Monday morning.

Hey

He ripped the page from the book, careful to be as silent as possible. His fingers vibrated as he folded the paper in half three times. He looked to the clock once more. Two minutes, Munson.

His eyes stayed firmly planted on the chalkboard as he silently set the folded paper on her desk. His heart slammed against his ribcage when she took the paper, opening it slowly. She flattened it against her desk before writing her reply.

Hello :)

The smiley face that accompanied the word pulled an equally cheesy smile from Eddie. He quickly added his own words below hers.

You going to that dance next weekend?

He handed it back, eyeing the clock. He watched the second hand tick. He swore he could feel every movement of the tiny black line as she wrote him back.

The prom?

Seeing the word written in her exquisite penmanship suddenly made everything feel too real. His palms began to sweat. His nerves almost taking over before he shut them down.

Yes

He saw her smile out of the corner of his eye. His heart skipped a beat as she quickly answered his question before sliding the paper onto his desk once more.

Yeah, I'm going. Why?

Everything in Eddie's body and mind told him to end the conversation here. To crumple up the paper and throw it away. Or burn it outside. Leave no evidence of the leap he was about to take.

Would you want to go with me?

He set the paper on her desk just as the second hand on that god forsaken clock crossed the threshold of 8:45. The bell rang loudly above them. The sound echoed in Eddie's ears, reverberating in his chest as she stood up from her seat beside him.

She tucked the paper into the back pocket of her jeans before putting her books into her backpack. She turned to him, pencil extended. Her smile could have brought Eddie to his knees if he'd been standing.

"Keep it," he told her. "You'll need it for your other classes."

She nodded and tucked it behind her ear. "I'll keep it safe for you." She told him as she turned to leave.

As he expected, the first words out of Dustin's mouth when he sat down at lunch were the age old question. "Did you ask her?" Eddie took a deep breath as he tried to think of what to say. He held it in his lungs like the first hit of a fresh smoke.

"Kinda," was what he settled on.

"Kinda?" Jeff asked, clarifying before taking a drink of his Coke.

"Kinda," Eddie repeated.

"What the fuck does that even mean?" Dustin and, his tone annoyed as he stared down the older boy.

"It means I kinda asked her," Eddie shrugged, his gaze dropping to his hands in his lap.

"So do I need to ask her for you or not?"

Eddie looked up to Dustin with a shy smirk. "No," he answered. "I definitely got the question out, but I didn't get an answer."

He spent the next few minutes relaying the events of his first period class to the club members. They hung on his every word as he detailed everything from her tardiness to his panic as she slipped the folded note into her pocket.

"She didn't even have a second to read it," Eddie finished, sounding defeated.

"Exactly," Mike chimed in over a mouthful of food. "She could still say yes."

"She could still say no."

"Give the poor girl a chance to answer before you start feeling bad for yourself," Dustin told him, effectively shutting down any argument he could come up with.

The rest of the school day passed in a blur. He would be marked present in class but his mind was elsewhere. Try as he might, he couldn't pull his mind away from her. Or her answer.

By the time he got home he had convinced himself that maybe she never read his question after all. Maybe, in her rush to get to her next class the note had fallen out of her pocket. Maybe tomorrow in class she'd apologize, tell him that she lost it and ask why he wanted to know her plans for prom. Then, of course, he'd have to come up with an excuse. But he'd worry about that when the time came.

Eddie tossed and turned in bed that night. He couldn't get comfortable. And even if he were comfortable, every time he closed his eyes he saw her. That part wasn't wholly unusual. Having a six year long crush will naturally come with a few nights of thinking about the object of your affections. But tonight wasn't like those other nights. Tonight he was all over his small bed because he was afraid. He was afraid of what the morning held for him.

He considered skipping. He could call the school, put on his Uncle Wayne voice and excuse Eddie for the day. But then he'd have to answer to the uncle in question when he got home from work in a few hours. Wayne was the one person in the world Eddie could never lie to, and he didn't feel like having a heart to heart about his ill fated note today.

So he rose from his bed, sheets a mess on the floor after being kicked around all night. His morning routine was purely muscle memory. Pee, brush teeth, brush hair, get dressed, out the door. His mind wasn't in his actions at all. Instead focused on her and that stupid note.

The drive to school suddenly seemed about 60 miles too short as Eddie parked his van in the student section of the parking lot. His hands shook as he pulled his key from the ignition before wrapping his fingers tightly around the steering wheel. If he weren't afraid of Dustin making good on his promise, he might have just left.

He grabbed his notebook and a pen from his passenger seat before kicking open his door. His legs moved him slowly towards the building. His mind buzzed with anxiety as his fingers wrapped around the handle of the front door.

Walking to his classroom felt like the journey to end all journeys. Like walking into Mordor, if you will. His leg bounced beneath the desk as he took his seat. The chain on his wallet shook against the metal leg of the desk with each bounce. Eddie wrapped a fist tightly around the chain to silence it, not wanting to draw attention to his anxious habits.

And suddenly, like a springtime breeze or a rainbow after a summer storm, she was there. The breath seemed to leave Eddie's lungs the instant she passed through the doorway into the loud classroom. Friday mornings were always loud, students making and finalizing weekend plans before the chime of the first bell. He would be lying if he told you that he remembered how to breath immediately and that he didn't have to force himself to inhale.

She smiled at him, her hair bouncing as she stepped towards him. "Good morning, Eddie." She greeted him as she took her seat beside him. He tried to say something back, he really did. But any ability he had ever had to form any words in any language suddenly left him.

His heart raced in his chest as she leaned over, once again rummaging through her backpack. She pulled his pencil out, waving it proudly. "Told ya I'd keep it safe," she giggled. "You want it back?"

Eddie wiped his sweating palms over his thighs as he sat up straight at his desk. A chuckle fell from his lips, but he missed the way her own smile grew at the sound. "Nah," he told her. "All yours." He wanted so badly to be witty. To bust out the ol' Munson family sense of humor. But he just couldn't do it. Every clever thing he'd ever said or known or thought was suddenly gone.

She smiled at him once more before turning back to her bag. She retrieved her text book and notebook, opening both on top of her desk just as the bell rang.

"Okay, class, yesterday we left off…" Mrs. Ballard started her lesson.

He couldn't concentrate if his life depended on it. She hadn't said anything about the note. Maybe he was right. Maybe she dropped it. Or maybe he was right the first thousand times the guys had tried to talk him into asking her out. Maybe it was a no, and she was just too sweet to tell him. Maybe she was trying to figure out how to let him down gently.

The end of his blue ink pen tapped rhythmically on the page of his textbook. He was so deep in thought that he barely registered the hand on his desk. The nails manicured and painted a minty shade of green as they slipped away from the folded piece of paper that now sat beside his textbook.

His hands shook as he lifted the paper. He was slow to open it. Now, after six years of pining, he would have his answer. He wasn't sure he was ready. But it was now or never. He opened the final fold, revealing the back and forth correspondence between them from yesterday. He scanned down the bottom where, in her perfect cursive writing a single word had been added.

Absolutely.

~~~~~

Feedback is always appreciated! Requests are open! Have a great weekend! 🥰 If you'd like to be tagged in my Stranger Things fics, please let me know. I also have individual tag lists for Steve, Eddie, Robin, Nancy, and Steddie.

Tag List: @redwineanddnicotine

Eddie Tag List: @littlemiss-yeehaw @protecteddiemunson4vr @tayhar811

[landinoandco]

Hey could you do one with max verstappen, where the reader a fight about him not helping around the house (witch he doesnt do because he is just tired from working hard but the reader dont know) so they yell at max and he suddenly walks away but then they find him crying in bed, because hes overworked and feels like hes never gonna be good enough at being a driver and the readers boyfriend. And feels like he can only dissapoint the reader, his dad and cristian. But the reader comforts him. Tnx

Because I'm not good enough...

Max Verstappen x Reader

Warnings: angsty

Word count: 2 k

Requests are open :)

You were sat at the dining room table, staring out at the empty seat in front of you. Your arms crossed across your chest and your lip in between your teeth. You had been sat there for an hour - in the grand scheme of things an hour didn’t seem like such a long time but it was his final warning and an hour was just long enough to allow for your anger to boil over.

Dinner was in the fridge - the same dinner you had cooked an hour ago, your phone lay screen up on the table - the same phone you used to call Max two hours and a half hours ago, he told you he was on his way home. Home whilst you were in the UK was 25 minutes away from the Redbull HQ. This was becoming a regular occurrence, some nights he would come home so late that you had already taken yourself to bed. The atmosphere in the house seemed to freeze over whenever he was around even though you were yet to come out of summer, there was something hanging over the pair of you - unspoken feelings and as of now a red hot anger that threatened to escape from your usually composed nature.

Ever since the championship had taken a turn in the favour of Redbull, Max had started to become much more distant. It started off with him not inviting you along to the races, leaving on the Wednesday before race weekend and sometimes not seeing him until the following Tuesday and that was on a stand alone race weekend. On the triple headers, it could be nearing two weeks until you two were spared 5 minutes alone and even then it was a brief conversation before he rushed back to the factory or to train.

You thought you knew what you signed up for and since yours and Max’s relationship and that was three years ago so you thought you had seen it all - been through it all with him, witnessed every high and every low. This was a new territory and you knew that if it wasn’t tackled soon -

The click of the door lock echoed in the hallway, you straightened in your seat - eyes locked ahead of you and your knee bouncing.

Max sighed loudly and wiped his hand over his face, it had been a long day - he had been at the factory up until Christian had invited him out to lunch, it was nice to catch up with his boss and Max felt like he owed the man so much; guiding him through the years that had led up to the moment they found themselves in. Max felt like over the past years he had matured as a person, sometimes still short tempered but being an F1 driver it wasn’t necessarily a bad trait. After his lunch with Christian, his dad had called him - the less said about the conversation the better. By the time you had called, the last thing he wanted to do was come home and risk upsetting you. He had taken himself on a run - to clear his head and focus on what he was going to say to you because he felt like something definitely needed to be said.

He also owed a lot to you, you had put up with so much over the years and standing by his side even when he had made a mistake - although you were very quick to tell him when he was in the wrong. You seemed to be on his level, a blunt and forward look at life - there was no time for dawdling about when you had things to be done. Life was short and there was no time to waste.

Recently however, he was putting so much pressure and stress on himself about work that the hours slipped away from him and so did the time spent with you. He felt the atmosphere change around the pair of you - as though he was always walking on thin ice, the cracks beginning to show. The guilt he felt was nothing like he had ever felt before, all he wanted to do was talk to you but he was scared of pushing you away - which is ironic because not talking and letting the pent up anger build up was having the same effect. He was never that good when it came to talking about how he felt - as much as he wanted to he felt as though he would be a burden and that he would put too much pressure on you. He could never tell you what he really felt like inside. It was embarrassing, he knew that a professional athlete should never feel what he felt. It weakened him and having weaknesses in a sport like Formula 1 was not an option.

Max shrugged his coat off and walked through to the main room of the apartment - the room where you were sat waiting to pounce as though he was your unsuspecting prey.

He offered a tired smile, in response he got a sneer. Swallowing hard, you felt the anger take over, like some monster escaping from a cage.

“I have been sitting here for an hour, Max -” You shot to your feet, pointing at the table, your voice cracked slightly. “For months, you’ve been leaving me - it’s me who’s been cooking for us both, cleaning, washing - everything, Max. By myself.” You were shouting now, your heart threatening to break free from your chest. Max just stood there, a blank expression on his face - his gaze fixed to the ground. “I don’t understand what went wrong, Max. We were happy, hell, we spoke to each other. Now, I’m alone. In fact, I may as well be alone if this doesn’t change.” The words had fallen out of your mouth before you had any time to consider them - or the consequences. Your eyes went round with shock and you fell back to your seat. A loud silence filled the room.

Max, too, had not expected the words that had initiated the silence. He opened his mouth, eyes still on the ground, then closed it again before raising his head and looking you dead in the eye.

“You don’t mean that.” He managed to mutter, barely being able to raise his voice any louder. He felt a tired emptiness, this was the last thing he had wanted to happen.

“That’s all you have to say to me.” You rounded on him again, angry tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“No - I -” He stuttered, then closed his eyes, inhaling slowly, “I just don’t think we should talk things through whilst you’re angry -” He saw you about to interject, when he raised his hands. “You have every right to be. That’s not what I’m saying. I think we should wait to talk about it so we don’t say things we are going to regret later.” Max could feel his throat constricting, he was battling to keep his emotions at bay.

You sniffed and nodded slowly, placing your head in your hands - hot tears escaping and shoulders tensed.

Max swallowed thickly, his eyes swimming with tears. He made a move and after no interruption left the room. He had only made it to the stairs before he collapsed, the fatigue getting the better of him. He was such an idiot, a fact he was certainly aware of now, how could he have let things get this bad. Did that make him a selfish person?

He couldn’t hold it in any longer, a harsh sob escaping from his mouth - fingers shaking and his head a loud mess.

As soon as Max had left the room, you had gotten up to get some water - when you paused, a sound catching your attention - a deep sounding sob. You waited, a line appeared between your brows. Slowly and carefully, you inched towards the door - waiting with baited breath for the sound again.

It was coming from the stairs and there was only one person it could be. Regret instantly pooled in the pit of your stomach, you hadn’t meant for him to cry. You were just so angry and he needed to know that.

“Max.” You called out softly, unsurprisingly there was no response. You went in the direction of the stairs and hunched over in front of you was your boyfriend - attempting to stifle his sobs. You rushed forwards, placing your arms around his shoulders and pulled his body into yours. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around your waist. You kissed the top of his head, stroking his hair as he continued to cry - you allowed him to empty his emotions out; some tears of your own betraying you entirely.

“I’m sorry, I really am.” Came a muffled voice. Pausing, you released your hold of him and placed your hands either side of his face - offering him a watery smile. Then, using your sleeves you wiped his tears away - he watched your every move, waiting for you to say something. When you didn’t, he braced himself - lips trembling; he knew it was now or never. He had to tell you how he really felt.

“I’m not good enough.” He stated simply, his eyes glossy. Your forehead furrowed. “I’m never going to be good enough to take the championship, I’m going to let everyone down. Everyone that has ever believed in me - it doesn’t matter what I do, how much work I put in - I’m never good enough. And you -” He paused, meeting your gaze, a lump forming in the back of your throat. “I keep letting you down, time and time again. I was the one who caused this, I’m never going to be good enough for you.”

“If you believe that -” You began, kissing the newly formed tears away, “Then I will eat your race shoe.” You moved to sit next to him on the stairs, pulling him into your side. “Why didn’t you tell me that’s how you felt.”

You felt Max shrug, the side of his head resting on yours. “I didn’t want to burden you with all of my problems, you already put up with so much.”

“I will always have time for you, Max.” Grasping his hand in yours, “You are enough, you are more than enough. You are Max Verstappen, the fastest, strongest guy I know.” You chuckled lightly, “I know it may sometimes feel like that and that’s ok. You are putting yourself through so much - maybe, it’s time to give some consideration for your personal life. It’s unhealthy to work all of the time - then we run into issues like these.” You spoke softly, almost whispering but you could tell he was hanging onto every word you spoke. “I love you, Max. I don’t know what I would do without you.” You admitted, turning your head to look at him. He chewed on his bottom lip, processing your words.

“I love you too, more than anything.” He murmured, placing his forehead on yours. You lifted your head slightly to leave a soft kiss on his nose, earning the corners of his lips to quirk up.

Closing your eyes, you relished being in his arms again, to have him close to you. You had missed it. You had missed him. Both of you knew you had a lot to work through, that it wouldn’t simply disappear but both of you were going to do it together. Hand in hand. And that was more than enough.

[utakoi]

Suds

Pairing: Soft Yandere!Enji Todoroki x GN!Reader 

Summary: A reformed Enji gives you a bath and contemplates your relationship with him.

Warnings: Yandere themes (abduction + mention of lewd thoughts + bindings [it’s rlly soft stuff tho])

A/N: never thought I’d write for Endeavor, but felt like this kind of concept fit his character the most after his redemption arc and uh... Idk kinda soft and horny for him whoops. Also I started a new aesthetic for my fic headers to separate them from my hcs, but idk if I like it yet

“Is the water too hot?”

You say nothing back to Enji as you kneel next to the tub, dipping your fingertips into the water. After a few moments of inspection, you rise from your spot and give Enji a pointed look over your shoulder. Knowing what the look means, Enji turns his back towards you and crosses his arms. 

For the past couple days, you’ve been trying out a new tactic of defiance: the silent treatment. 

Silence in his home isn’t new to Enji. Rei had been a quiet wife for most of their marriage, only conversing with him if he spoke to her first or if it was in regards to their kids. After Rei’s hospitalization and Touya’s death, his life had practically become silent, save for the times his remaining sons would jeer at him and the small talk his daughter would initiate. 

But he’s not used to silence with you. The first few weeks after he abducted you were anything but silent. Begging him to let you go, screaming that he’s an asshole, shattering fine china when you threw the dishes at his face and missed… and most recently, breaking the bathroom mirror during your scheduled bath time. He had come rushing in, only to be caught off guard when you swung a shard towards his chest the second he burst through the door. Luckily, his instincts as a hero allowed him to react quickly enough to swerve to the side. After the incident, he told you that he would have to monitor your baths from that point forward. You spat at his feet in response. 

To be honest, Enji thinks you should be more grateful that he didn’t punish you more severely for attempting to kill him and for your other past acts of rebellion. He could have easily done whatever he had wanted to you. For a second, images of your wrists tightly bound by rope and your quivering lips forced apart by a dirty rag flashes through Enji’s mind. He shakes his head. 

No, he’s a new man now… sort of. He’s trying his best to please you, at least, as much as he can as your captor. Sure, he’s forced a few cuddles here and there, but he had never forced himself on you sexually. Even when you were stripped bare to bathe, he hadn’t made a single move.

… Ok, he’s not completely innocent; he’s had lewd thoughts, but he never acted on them. 

The sound of your robe falling to the floor brings Enji back to the present and he waits until he hears a splash to turn back around. Once he does, the sight that greets him makes him crack a smile. 

The tub is ridiculously full of bubbles, the cloud-like mass practically engulfing your form. If any more of the soapy solution were to be added, he’s sure that he’d only be able to see the top of your head peeking out from the suds. To top it all off, you’re pouting like a child, clearly not wanting to give him the gratification of seeing you enjoy the perfect bath he prepared for you. 

“I know that you’ve been wary of your modesty, so I made sure the bath had more bubbles today,” he says as he sits cross-legged by the tub. “Though I suppose that I went a bit overboard with them.”

He eyes your face for any type of reaction. You say nothing back to him, but he catches your eyes soften. 

Enji’s not exactly sure why they do. Are you finally warming up to him? Or perhaps you're just grateful that he had gone through the efforts to make sure your intimate parts were concealed while he washed you? It’s most likely the latter, but he can’t help but let the hope of the former possibility sweep through him. 

“Which shampoo and conditioner would you like to use today?” Enji asks. You take a while to eye the several bottles in the shower caddy before indicating your choice by pointing at them. Enji makes a mental note of the brands as he squirts the shampoo into his calloused hands. 

As per routine, you shift yourself against the tub so that the back of your head is facing Enji. Gently, he lathers your hair. To be honest, he could probably trust you with bathing yourself; it’s not like you could do much damage by swinging some shampoo and froth at him. He could have just stood by the side and watched, making sure that you wouldn’t do anything like before. 

Still, he can’t help but just want to spend some peaceful quality time with you. Anytime you’re in the same room as him, your shoulders are always squared, as if you’re prepared for an attack at any moment. The few times he’d gone in for a hug after an exhausting day of hero work, you struggled and told him to fuck off. Your bath times are the only moments where you allowed yourself to relax. 

Actually, the first bath time after he announced your punishment was completely opposite to now. You had screeched and clawed at him when he tried to touch your hair; Enji still had a light scar on his forearm from where you managed to scratch him. 

Now… Well, he could only guess that you gave up on rebelling, at least, during your baths. Enji felt warmth pool in his chest at the thought. He had put in a lot of effort in trying to make the baths as nice as possible so that you could ease into the practice easier. The idea that he had succeeded in making you happy made his pride skyrocket. 

He takes his time scrubbing your arms and legs, savoring the feeling of your skin against his. You’re obviously aware of his actions, but seem to let them slide, only giving him warning glares when his hands would get too close to your torso. He turns his back towards you again once he’s done with your limbs, leaving you to clean your most intimate parts and wash off the foam. 

When you give him a tap on his shoulder to signal that you’ve put the robe back on, he sits on the lid of the toilet and lightly holds onto your waist to pull you onto his lap. Once you’re situated, he takes a brush and combs through your damp hair. While he could trust you in washing yourself, he could never trust you with combing your own hair; the brush was what you used to break the mirror. 

“Enji?”

He stops brushing your hair for a moment, surprised that you had broken your silent treatment. He hadn’t even realized that you had called him by his given name for the first time rather than his hero name until after you leaned your head back to lay on his chest. 

He clears his throat before responding with a shaky, “What is it?”

“Will I ever be able to bathe alone again?” You tilt your head backwards to meet his downward gaze. 

He resists himself from frowning at your question. If he let you bathe alone, he wouldn’t have moments like these anymore. He’d be back to experiencing your anger and malice 24/7 again.  

“... If you behave for a while longer, then I’ll consider it.” He hopes that, while it’s not a straight yes or no answer, it’ll suffice.

To his relief, you merely let out a hum in response and lean forward again. Enji goes back to brushing your hair, trying his best to be gentle when combing out the knots. 

For a while longer, he lets himself enjoy the serenity of the moment, pretending as if this wasn’t a punishment. 

He was just taking care of the love of his life and you were simply enjoying being pampered by your loving husband.

[oonajaeadira]

Long Fall Into Oblivion (Ezra x reader)

(header by sirtadcooper - check out the whole beautiful set here.)

Rating: Mature. 

Pairing: Ezra (post-Prospect film) x f!reader

Warnings: Non-explicit sex. Some swears maybe (think there’s a f*ck in there somewhere, my GOODNESS). A lot of gooey, syrupy, soft fluffety fluff. Author attempts at writing Ezra dialogue. A lot of chewy prose.

A/N: I can’t believe I’m posting this, but here goes. I love Ezra. He is a man of questionable morality and an insufferable tongue and I really shouldn’t. But I really do. I just wanted to give him a try. I’ve softened him up here, putting a few years on him so maybe he’s fluffed up some since the events in the film. Also I just ignored the fade or assumed that aurelac mining was still happening because scarcity/demand. Doesn’t matter. Just wanted to go exploring.

Summary: You take a job as an aurelac prospecting trainee and Ezra shows you the ropes. You’re gonna fall in love with him. That’s it. That’s the whole thing.

TAGLIST: you can always request to be on the taglist for this or any of my work. If you’d like to be on taglists for upcoming fic, please sign up here –> TAGLIST

MASTERLIST

________________

Bakhroma is one of the smallest gas giants in the sector, but as you stand on the surface of the Green Moon, it dominates the entire horizon, pulling your focus, threatening to engulf everything around it. You almost feel sorry for the lush moon as you walk through its undergrowth, so gentle and full of beauty, destined many years after you’re gone to give its life to her.

A moon is an orbiting admirer, and what is an orbit but a long fall to oblivion?

There’s a painful, sour ache in your heart as you walk back to the camp in twilight, watching the back of Ezra’s helmet bob along in front of you. You’d spent two days digging that claim only to find the weakest aurelac nest you’ve seen yet, only three viable nodes. You’d dug through one of them by accident and completely melted another like an incompetent fool. Kevva’s ass, you were such a disappointment. Three months in the Green and you still can’t cut a blister out properly. Not even once.

Ezra’s shoulders are wide and tense, his one hand splayed out as he walks, running over the tops of the tall ferns, catching one every now and then only to rip the top away, twirl it between his gloved fingers and toss it impatiently aside.

The other two members of your team headed out on a sling this morning, another two will be arriving in a few days. And you wonder if Ez regrets just not cutting his losses and leaving with them, or at least sending you back in exchange for another kip.

You think about shifting through the comm channels, hoping that he’s chattering away in one of them, switched without your knowledge, but it’s a lost cause. You can hear him breathing on the channel between you. It’s not often Ezra has nothing to say.

________________

You thought your father was leaving you an inheritance. It’s not the reason you took care of him through his illness, but you’d dropped everything to be back home with him through his final months. In a way, it was a blessing, a reason to quit the Dasha factory and the terrible working conditions there, come back home and focus on your dad, relive good memories, just spend time. The reconnection lifted your heart, but his death sank it low again. When you learned he had nothing to leave you but a small house and some old vehicles, you sold what you could and traded in the rest.

Then you had nothing. No family, no job, little savings, questionable future. It almost broke your spirit. But the last few months with your father rekindled your love of him as he told you about his years in the Fringe, mining and prospecting. And your heart had said, “what the hell, let’s try that.” So you listened.

It took some time to track down the right inroads, but you were able to find some ads for prospecting teams, in particular those who were willing to take on members in training for a re-distributed cut. With all provisions included--other than suit and gear, which your father’s inheritance neatly covered--it seemed like just as good of a deal as any, and an adventure to boot.

But the reality was, every team you met with was full of hardened men, and while you were not a soft Central woman, you also weren’t overly versed in weaponry and didn’t know if you could defend yourself out in the Fringe against attack if things got crusty.

You were just about ready to admit defeat when you walked into yet another conference bunker and found your match. The first thing you noticed was that he was standing when you arrived, waiting for you politely rather than manspread at the table. Second were his eyes. Deep, brown, and sad. Maybe sad was the wrong word, certainly it seemed by the lines in his face, possibly by the missing arm, that he’d seen enough sadness, but toward you, it read more as concern. You wouldn’t know it until later when he confessed his feelings about this first meeting, but he was worried you wouldn’t choose him. Ezra had a hell of a time hiring partners. He may have been one of the longest-working aurelac diggers out there, but young kippers saw his greying beard and seasoned diggers saw his lacking arm and they all tended to turn around and walk out before he even said hello. So he’d tried to put himself out there as a trainer, show that he had something more to offer.

It didn’t hurt his feelings when you admitted to him later that those qualities were exactly why you chose him. He seemed the opposite of threatening. And his eyes were bright when he smiled at you. With his thrumming baritone and his Fringe twang and his mixed deck of mosaic words, he had a way of speaking that felt like a fluffy blanket curling around you, your brain vibrating with comfort at every new monologue. He was eccentric and perhaps a little jarringly rough in his humor at times, but there was something about him that you trusted immediately, even though you’d come to learn later you probably shouldn’t have if you were being overly cautious.

Not that your judgement ever came to detriment. Not that he ever proved you wrong that way. Not when it came to you. But the man was dangerous when he had to be in a way you hadn’t initially picked up on.

________________

You hadn’t been out in the Green two weeks before you looked up from the bottom of a dig hole to see Ezra standing over you with a thrower.

“You get down and you stay down, understand?”

“Ez? What--”

“I said stay down! Do not make me waste words on mere repetition!” The fuzzy blanket of his voice replaced suddenly by a snarling, snapping brush wolf, a quick change hitting you like a slap in the ear.

There’d been pops and whizzes as shots rang through and you did as your trainer said, face down, the view of your visor giving you nothing but dirt. Your helmet was a chorus of quick breathing from both of you and sweat rolled down your neck as you begged the eyes of Kevva to look down upon your partner. When the crossfire faded, you’d heard Ezra stalk away. Then there were a couple more shots. Then more footsteps returning.

“You are permitted to stand, trinket. All is well as it can be for us. But not so much for our dearly departed friends.” These words were as soothing as much as his previous ones had burned, and he simply went back to working at the dig at hand as if he’d just come back from taking a leak. It wasn’t until you left the site that evening that you tramped past two rotting raiders, gaudily outfitted with broken face shields, left to let the Green take them.

Ezra whistled as he stepped over them, stopping only to harvest their filters and munition rods, which he tossed your way to stow in your pack, and then continued lazily down the path toward camp. Just another day on the job. 

He may be a little peculiar and not someone to trifle with, he may have just killed two people without remorse or further comment, but his lack of reassuring words told you that this was just part of the deal. You wear the suit, you use the air scrubber in the tent, you follow the landing pod instructions as written, and you defend yourself against those who wish to harm you. Survival by any and all means is paramount, mundane, and something he has no qualms with on any level.

There was something deep down inside of you that instinctually pulled you to follow him, not just down the literal path before you, but whatever path Ezra chose to wander.

________________

Before you’d left the station with him, he’d taken you to a thrower range to gauge your skill which was decent in theory, but dismal compared with what he could do. No matter, he still patiently taught you how to properly clean and charge a weapon and the best way to breathe and pull the trigger; “like you’re taking hold of a man’s...well... Just go easy and firm.” He suggested you should come and practice every day before lift off and then hope to Kevva that you didn’t have to rely too heavily on it.

“If I find myself in a coffin of my own suit, then feel free to defend yourself as a final means of preservation. Otherwise, when it comes down to shots fired, best to let me do the dirty work. Might as well keep the blood where the blood has been.”

You’d been a little nervous about sharing a freighter pod alone with him, but Ezra was...well, not so much a gentleman as just a comfortable soul. 

He always waited until you were hungry to eat, thinking it rude to eat alone in front of you. He never moved around the pod while you were sleeping, content to keep still with a book in his cot. And if you couldn’t sleep, he was always willing to read to you from whatever impossibly dense old world classic he was digging through for the umpteenth time, letting his voice come up from the deeps and pull you gently under. If you asked permission to turn on the radio, he’d ask you “why Isn’t it on yet, woman,” quietly tolerating your taste in harsh and gleeful babblecore pshcyopop. In the later days of the journey, he’d even come to dance with you from time to time, although both of you were dismal at it and ended up with you in a fit of giggles. It was a sure-fire way to cure a case of the pouts you carried through from the morning fitness sessions when he beat you at pushups. Again.

When it came to privacy in the tight space, he had a habit of turning away without having to be asked or stopping his stream of talk when you went to change clothes, just happily chattering away until you called the all clear. Although he was not squeamish about his own state of undress, should you happen to catch it by accident. While he was respectful of your privacy, he seemed to need none of his own, but neither did he flaunt anything. You might look up from studying the flight manual to notice he was changing into a fresh pair of compression pants, tugging them on haphazardly with one hand, more concerned with telling you the overwhelmingly disgusting manufacturing process of Bits Bars than his own ass hanging out where you might see it. At least he always changed facing away from you which was a kindness.

Until it wasn’t.

After you realized you’d fallen quietly in love with him--a sudden, soft moment on the Green--then you’d admit only privately to yourself that you wouldn’t mind if you accidentally saw a little more than the occasional shirtless attire he might wear around the tent.

But in the pod, the only part of him that had caught your curiosity was his stump, and you’d known Ezra intensely enough over the past couple of weeks where you knew he wouldn’t take offense. Especially if you asked him the right way.

“Will you tell me a story, Ezra?”

“I feel that it is my duty to do so whether you ask me to or not. Shall I choose, or is there something in particular you would like to hear?”

He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, propped up against his cot, going through his kit, cleaning his gear. You waited until he noticed your lack of answer and looked up to meet your eyes. When he saw that you had put your manual down and were focusing all your quiet attention on him, he stopped his busy work. 

When Ezra gives you his attention, it is absolute. When he knows you seriously need something from him, that becomes his immediate main priority and all else can wait. It’s only gotten more intense since that day, but there is a trust that resides between you when you look into his eyes, gathering your words as he waits patiently every time to hear whatever you’re going to request of him. There’s always hope there in his big browns, always something specific he’s waiting for you to ask, and every day you get a little bit closer to understanding what it might be. But until then, any question is a welcome one, any query is met with his wish to provide.

“Will you tell me how you lost your arm?”

At first you thought you may have gone too far, that maybe you insulted him, as his eyebrows peaked together and he looked down at his hand. But then, “That is a tale that may cause you some consternation, trinket. The Green is dangerous and unforgiving, and there were times I may not have been a man worthy of fair opinion.”

“My father was a prospector, you know. I’ve heard stories. Have you ever killed anyone?”

He clicked his tongue and screwed up an eye, causing the thin white scar on his cheek to twist. Then he sighed and returned to your locked gaze. “To be honest, I have. Though I have never done so with pleasure, I have killed in defense and out of desperation, and it was out of dispatching a man in this way that I came to lose the second favorite of all my appendages.”

“Second favorite?”

“Well, it depends what you classify as a limb.” He huffed a small laugh, a spark in his eye, trying to diffuse the harsh subject in his own way.

His leaning into baseness never bothered you. There was something earthy about it, gritty and rough, but never lewd. You rewarded his crassness with a smile. “Do you plan on killing me out in the Green?”

“I would hope my murdering days are behind me, and if they are not, you would see me aim a thrower at everyone but you in the course of my spree. You are under my tutelage, and for that, I owe you a duty of care. That is my word by Kevva.”

“Then tell me the story. I like your stories. I promise not to judge now-Ezra by then-Ezra.”

A dimple formed on his cheek, a punctuation mark framing the approaching anecdote on his lips. “Then I will declare myself absolved of any sin heretofore and regale you with a clean and grateful heart.”

________________

You can see the tent through the trees and you realize with some horror that it’s just you and Ezra for the next few nights. If he’s angry with you, and this is how he is when he’s upset, the silence will be unbearable.

Even that little girl he helped out here years ago was probably more capable than you. You feel so lost in this moment, and it’s only made worse by his silence. You fumble with your communicator and hit the mute just in time to choke on a sob.

This isn’t like you. You’re not one to cry when things get rough. You hardly shed a tear when your father died. But the thought of that just brings another sob and as acting as your own psychologist you realize that you are experiencing some displaced sorrow, the odd need to please the leading male in your life, the one that’s walking ahead of you, away from you. If he’d just turn around and throw you his worn weary smile, if he’d just start up a conversation you’d know that there was hope for you, you’d know you didn’t give up everything to be here in a job you couldn’t hack.

You gotta stop this. Or it’s going to be an uncomfortable night.

Shake it off.

Once you enter the tent, the usual dance happens. Ezra reaches up to turn on the air scrubber and you unhook his filter tube from his helmet. When he turns to you, you pull open the zipper cover on his suit and start his zip for him before lifting his helmet up and off. He can pull the zip the rest of the way, but you generally pull the left collar down for him so he can get his arm out. He’s on his own from there as you turn to fuss with your own gear. 

________________

You remember it starting easily enough. He was telling you a story about the breeding habits of the Tokovian Musk Owl and you could see he was having trouble with his suit zipper, yanking at it and trying to look down at it even though it was under his chin and his helmet. Without another hand to keep the fabric taut, the zip didn’t want to release, so you simply batted his hand away and started it for him. He didn’t even stop his yammering, just threw in a “thank you” somewhere in between “could hear them screeching” and “for a fuck.” He’d right out asked you the day before if you wouldn’t mind disengaging the filter tube just because it was delicate and he didn’t want to mangle the expensive part trying to pop it out one-handed day after day. And while he could manage the helmet fine enough, his prominent nose thanked you for a smoother removal for sure. 

It wasn’t the only routine dance you’d concocted. 

There was the harness dance.

While dig days were excruciating, you always looked forward to helping him attach the harness for his prosthesis--a kind of rigid pole attached to a shovel so you didn’t have to do all the hard digging alone. There were a couple of straps that came around his torso with multiple latches and you’d come to really enjoy wrapping your arms around him to fit the straps on. Sure, you could do the job just as easily from behind, but if you embraced him at the front, he’d usually raise his arm and let it come to rest around your shoulders while you worked. If you let yourself dream, it would be easy to imagine that he might be pressing you into him just a little bit.

And there was the harvesting dance.

On a dig, you were the one to mix the fazer and Ezra did the pour. He fished the sack, you cut the cord. You sliced the outer casing and held it open while he did the extraction. And with the flesh-covered stone, he told you every time to “hold it like you love it” so he could cut away the slippery blister before cleaning the gemstone.

It was a beautiful harmony. And the only way it worked. Because once on every dig he urged you to do a solo extraction, and on every dig, you pierced the blister and lost that stone. And on every dig, he squeezed your shoulder and told you it was a wondrous try, that he was proud of you, and there would always be another turn. There was no sarcasm, no pity, just a warm smile and ceaseless optimism even though you just lost both of you thousands in pay.

These were the first touches, these shoulder squeezes that ran down your arm on the let-go. Sometimes he would just reach out and grab onto you like a pole to help himself up, or he might stumble off balance on uneven ground and without the counterweight of his right arm he’d throw his hand out onto you to steady himself. He wasn’t beyond lightly touching the small of your back to encourage you down a path or to take your next try at a gem pull. 

This was all part of something you’ve secretly named the left-handed-lover’s dance. Basically, that you keep on his left whenever you can in case he needs your help or has the inclination to reach for you. It started out as just trying to be a good partner. Then it became a passing hope that it was more than just a friendly bond. But you were both here to do a job. He was here to teach you to be an independent prospector and you were here to assist and learn. That was evident at the end of the day; once you were both in the tent and out of the suits he never touched you, never so much as bumped into you or grazed your hand in passing an item or clapped you on the arm after a good joke. 

But out in the field all zipped in and helmets on, there was nothing more natural than his gentle hand guiding you or reaching for your assistance, including the day you realized you loved him.

________________

Before you can turn away to strip off your own coverings, Ezra catches your arm, spinning your face into the light. You try to shake him off, not wanting him to catch your eyes puffy from crying and your cheeks still streaked with tears, but his grip is not so gentle now and he yanks you back around to his stormy glare, chin up, brows low. His intensity paralyzes you, rendering you unable to continue your struggle when he catches your eyes with his.

When Ezra gives you his attention, it is absolute.

His gaze travels back and forth between your eyes, waiting for an explanation, a minute so stringent it breaks you down, dissolves you into the tears you’d tried so hard to hide.

“I’m sorry, Ezra. I really am trying... I don’t know why I’m such a scuffer at this and I know it would only be right to release you from the contract and tell you to send me back but I don’t want you to, I really wanna stay, I really wanna learn and I’m so, so sorry.”

Your words have an immediate effect, softening him, pulling his glare into concern and wonder, his lips parting just the tiniest bit in surprise.

“This is the reason for your heavy mood? You think I am provoked by your proficiency in the field?” 

“I crusted up good today and it seems like you’re not happy about it. Just...know that it means so much to me that...I don’t wanna let you down.”

“Oh, trinket, no.” An incredulous huff jumps out of him and his grip on your arm loosens, becomes a splayed warm support behind your shoulder, moving in soothing patterns and you’re instantly relieved that your assumptions were wrong. “You have done no harm in my book. It is not an easy thing to deliver a gem of this ilk into the world unscathed. Your opportunities have been few and scattered and it takes many sticks before a lover becomes a lothario.” He knows the crass humor will make you laugh, knows what to say to lighten your heart, to get you to soften, and bring you into his intimate, conspiratorial mood. “To be perfectly honest, I am selfish to an unrighteous degree, for every gem you burn keeps me in value to you. A worthy sacrifice to guarantee you mightn’t be so quick in your need to fly away from me until your training’s complete.”

This causes a hitch in your breath as you see the welcome turn the conversation he’s taking and you follow the path he’s making for you. “I don’t want to leave you, Ez.”

A smile creeps up one side of his mouth. “Well then I am a happy man. A bargain is struck! Partners it is.”

“Partners it is.”

A moment hangs between you as he rubs his thumb in slow circles on your shoulder. There’s that look in his eye again, the one where he’s waiting for you to ask the question he wants to hear from you. So close now.

Still, you’re unsure. “I guess I’m lucky I found the one person who wants an incompetent partner.”

“No, I do not, nor is it what I have and I must express my objection to your self-debasement. This work is not for the shiny, and you have not once complained about taking on the meat of the digging or the crawl of my schedule.”  His hand comes to your helmet shield and he rakes his thumb across it as if he ached to wipe away one of your staleing tears. “Those bright eyes of yours got a penchant for spotting deposits more skillfully than I could ever manage and that’s not something that can be taught; that’s talent, girl. The blistering?” He shrugs. “Even I can’t manage that without the steady help of your fine hands. You may think that your blunders in education are causing us some financial ruin, but our fortunes are creamy. I assure you, we can afford it.”

That look is still there. He’s waiting. “There’s some ‘us’ and ‘we’ in there, Ez.” Your hands drift to his sides, taking fistfuls of his compression suit top, willing him closer.

The edges of his eyes take on the crinkle you’ve come to find so much comfort in. “So there is.”

You’re almost there. You know what he wants. “Why were you so quiet on the walk back?” 

“Because for the next few days we are alone here and I have a mind full of questions I do not know how to ask you.”

“Then let me go first.” A yearning happiness settles in his brown eyes; finally. Finally you’ve found out what it is he needs you to request of him. “If I take this helmet off, are you going to kiss me, Ez?”

His eyes close in contentment and he nods, “Yes. Yes, little jewel. Yes I am, that and more. I hope I have inferred correctly that it is your wish that I do so, because I am in free fall. I feel my orbit ending and my pull to you is complete.”

_______________

“A moon is an orbiting admirer, and what is an orbit but a long fall to oblivion?”

Speculating days were some of your favorite times, just wading through the brush and looking for the telltale signs and shoots of an underlying deposit. Sometimes you came upon nests of strange groundling insects or flowers that only grew in secret. There were treasures underfoot on this poisonous moon, but if you remembered to look up as well, you might find some dangerous beauties there too. 

On that day--the one where you finally understood your heart--you’d looked up to find that you were on a cliffside overlooking a valley, the canopy a million different hues of green, the gas giant looming over half the sky in a big pink and orange semi-circle. There was a fallen log that served as a perfect seat for the perfect view and you knew Ezra wouldn’t mind if you stole a few moments to sit and to take it in. It’s just the kind of thing he’d appreciate. And you were proven right when he came up behind you, putting a hand on your shoulder to steady himself as he swung one leg then the other over the log, finding a perch next to you, spouting pretty words through the channel link--soft and low--about moons and orbits and obilvions.

“That glowing beauty is Bakhroma. She is quiet and fierce, made up of the unfathomable and the unknowable, always within sight, but out of reach and untouchable unless one would trade the honor with great sacrifice. She reflects the light that is given to her with a patience that is heretofore untold. And the Green Moon upon which we ride follows where she goes like a lovesick fool, spinning around her in a heady kind of adoration, full of secret treasures buried deep down that will ultimately one day belong to her, falling incrementally over eons until he finally loses himself in her, all his glories gladly forfeit to her welcome and inevitable embrace. Alone but together, seemingly eternal, pulled as one by the laws of a mysterious universe.”

The void that came after those words was filled with the beating of your heart, and you were sure he could hear it through the channel.

When he’d landed there beside you, you’d registered how his hand slid off your shoulder, diagonally down across your back, coming to rest at your waist, his arm draped lightly around you. Natural. Easy. Everything was warm--the colors of the sky, the care with which he kept you close as if to better hear the honey sweetness in his prose, the fire burning in your lungs and neck.

Ezra probably didn’t know that you spoke a little Vayok.

Bakh being the Vayok word for adornment. Ornament, Gem. Roma was a modifier, a diminutive. Small. Dear.

Bakhroma. Sentimental bauble. A little jewel.

In other words, a trinket.

All you wanted to do was sit down to take in the view of an entire world for a few moments, but by the time Ezra took your hand and helped you to your feet, all you saw was him.

________________

The helmet is barely off before his lips are sealed to yours in a press of greed. Even if he can’t form words when he kisses you, he can’t help but express his deep relief in a heartbreaking moan. It’s a fight to release yourself from the suit when he keeps pulling you against him and every time you try to get some space between you to work the zipper, he chuckles into your mouth, enjoying the tease and the struggle. It’s simultaneously frustrating and thrilling and you give in for a few moments just to give him what he seems to want so desperately right now.

Ezra kisses like a man starved for air, long, hard, and full of need, peeling his lips away only to come back for another breath of you until his initial want is slaked and he slows, allows for more time between his taking, his mouth starting to mumble against yours, praising you with pet names, telling you how perfect you are to him, how long he’s “fought against my more dubious natures to respect your womanly virtues and take them only when you could see in me a man worth bestowing them on.”

You’re able to use his weakness for monologuing to turn around in his vice-like embrace, finally freeing yourself of the suit and he takes the opportunity to drawl more pretty words in your ear, warning you that “I’m afraid I have been enamored of you overly long and may be extra eager in my attentions. So you just say the word if you need a slow down, gentle one, and I will do my best to comply. Although I will admit it will be a difficult endeavor indeed as I feel I am entering your atmosphere and nothing might quell this burn but finding some drowning place to land.”

Your first impression of him was of a man whose age and temperament and body would not be able to overpower you.

Your first impression was wrong.

Of course, it helps that you are willing.

It doesn’t take long for him to strip you down, and then himself. To kiss you down onto the floor. To find exactly where you like to be touched most and how long it takes for you to break from it. He has so many words for you, so many praises to sing about every part of you that is round or soft or wet, comparing you to things that are sweet and plush or celestial and holy. And when you take his favorite limb in hand--as wondrous as the rest of his body--and guide it to its fit, he plunders and harvests all you have to give him, filing you with himself, for as long as you call for it, as long as you let him. He loves you like he speaks to you: rough and drawn out, full of beautiful tangents and meandering plotlines, but in the end it is beautiful and fulfilling; you may be just a little bit confused how you got to the ending, but you’re completely in awe.

When you lay breathing heavy, staring but not seeing the ceiling of the tent, your consciousness seemingly lifted to see through it to the stars, to the glowing face of Bakhroma, you run hands through rough-chopped hair on a head laying on your chest. He’s listening to your heartbeat, waiting for it to slow down so he can start again. The air is thick--even the air scrubber can’t keep up with all your humidity--and there’s a halo around each bulb of the string lights just barely illuminating the darkness.

“How long, Ez?”

“Hm?”

“How long have you been waiting for that.”

“Most likely since the day you walked into my interview. I am a man of simple wants and you had all the right parts for my preferences.”

“For real, Ez.”

He tipped his head up to find you. “What you ask has many true answers, and I stand by the first. I have no qualms telling you of my weakness for a pretty succulence and a kind smile the likes of which you possess. But if you are asking when I knew I would have it, well, that may have been the first day you danced. Or when you asked me to read you to sleep. Or when I understood I wouldn’t let those bastard raiders get near enough to take their turn at your qualities when I had not had them myself. Or when you finally saw me as a viable person to drape your affections on; maybe it was that day too.”

“When I finally saw you as....”

“I have read many tomes and verses but none so full of beautiful passages as your face that day on the cliff. There is a difference of knowing and being. I knew the feel of your pull that day, but found I’d been in orbit all along.”

How he can live this way, twist everything into a tossed away poem...it should be exhausting. Yet you feed off it. You breathe it like air.

After another long cycle of frenzied entanglement and violent euphoria, you ask Ezra if he’d like to move to a cot, maybe get some sleep. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to walk to the dig tomorrow morning,” you confess.

“No need to worry about tomorrow,” he says, wapping his arm around you and dragging you back to him, grumbling into your ear. “We are the only prospectors in this sector and the aurelac will wait. Until our new compatriots arrive, we are officially on hiatus. Recreational mining only. Restricted to the confines of this tent. By order of your supervisor. In the interest of more precious treasures. And I intend to strike it rich.”

“Well. I’m here to assist. And learn.”

“When it comes to this dig, trinket, you are more than competent. I am no longer your trainer. Partners it is.”

“Partners it is.”

The new contract is struck, signed and sealed in kissing and in touch and a long, slow fall into inevitable oblivion.

[accio-victuuri]

BoXiao : Endorsement CPNs

Just listing a few of my favorites, where we clowned so hard with what appears to be bxg biased signs from brands. Mostly 2020-2021. This was supposed to be a simple post but it got a little bit out of hand. So. Here you go. Enjoy!

Note: If you don’t like CPN posts, just scroll along. If you don’t like BJYX — this is not for you. don’t hurt yourself and skip this post.

1. RoseOnly - I will not add the RoseOnly x Peace Elite collaboration here anymore cause most of the people reading this should be familiar. A little bit of my thoughts on that are here.

Now let’s move on to other clownery, cause when I said we did see some 👀 before, I meant it.

• GG’s campaign with them where he showcased a bunny with rainbow colored flowers. They could be showcasing all the kind of flowers they have or LGBT friendly advertising. After all, All love is love. 🌈

• For Roseonly’s 8th anniversary, GG had a campaign and VCR w/ them and that big 8 flower. 8 means bo. It’s truly used for the anniversary but of course we CPN cause we are clowns.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fwGnDR4zspI

• During Web’s promo for rules of my world and when his teaser photos came out— RoseOnly released a photo of a black rose ( same color as Web’s clothes in the teaser ) with the caption:

You’re the coolest guy in my heart.

• When they were doing a teaser for their new endorser, some people were pointing out that the silhouette looks like Bobo. lol. Twins!

• All the references to the Lonely Planet and Little Prince for this promotion. We all know that they both love LP and whether this is CPN or a personal preference— we’re claiming it!

• The green rose they once advertised with the caption I ONLY LOVE YOU. and with the green rose symbolizing innocence, simplicity and forever young. Green and those keywords, who do you remember?

• In 2019, they did a selling bundle with Shu Uemura which was a brand Web was endorsing at that time.

• In a live, the color green and red rose were together — GG and Web colors.

• An Ad in their online store where the display is the Leo rose which is Bobo’s zodiac sign. and GG is holding Libra. Leo x Libra. And with the caption below for their advertisement. We know Web is the Leo of all Leos but it’s still 👀

The proud Leo has a child-like arrogant temper. Some people think they are not easy to get along with, but they don’t know that they just have not entered their hearts. Actually, Leo’s tenderness is only for the right person.

Some other thing that I will add here for reference but I don’t necessarily believe. Link from weibo.

• When GG was announced as their brand spokesperson and Web gave a clue in his post. Also GG making 3 different posts and kadian combinations.

I’m adding in this collab they had with Eleme, the same time Web was endorsing the brand.

I’m sure I missed a couple more from RoseOnly but that just depends on how clear your BXG glasses are. To me the most important is their Lonely Planet / Star campaign with GG last year.

2. Shu Uemura - This is one of the OG brands that Web endorses and who loves him very much. They signed him when he was not yet a big star and flew him to different countries. They treat him very well. 🤍

• The most recent one is from their Ad with Bobo and a red ribbon which made us all think of WWX. I can understand from an Ad perspective that it’s perfect to pair up with a red lipstick — but our brains are wired to CPN. Soooo. And this is not their first offense with stuff like this.

• This Ad featuring Bobo : - "博"君一笑 BJYX.

• For the promotion photos of this eyeshadow palette, the colors and look is similar to GG’s painting for the Guangdian album cover. Yes. This was done some time after the song was released.

• This one is more of a coincidence. Years apart, both on the same day, they posted about a collaboration with One piece. It’s their favorite Anime. GG as Luffy & Web as Roronoa Zoro.

3. Qeelin -  will be very lazy with this one and copy/paste from my jewelry post. Take note that this Bobo design is not new and had always been a classic from Qeelin.

4. Kai Xiao Zao - Ah! KXZ! The brand that loves GG the most. So what signs did they give?

• Their recent new product is wontons. Who do we know that likes wontons? It reminded BXGs of the unofficial BTS when Web was nagging GG to eat Wontons.

• They used a well known BXG idiom:

"你是夏日限定, 也是来日方长"

5. Chunzhen - Endorsed by Bobo, and this is under Mengniu. It caused some drama— cause GG & Web are technically promoting the same company. but like, there are so many other c-ent artists endorsing this brand.

• They posted for this year’s Qixi, stating in the Caption that Bobo is able to balance love and work. Really? How did they know? And they had made a character called XIAO ZHEN for qixi ( a cartoon girl with blue hair ).

• Zhenguoli ( endorsed by GG ) and Chunzhen drinks which are under the same company posted graphics of the two drinks together. 👀

• Also since it’s both under the same umbrella company, and both yogurt drinks— you can see their boxes together in shops.

6. Stride - In Bobo’s box set initial release, 3 flavors were included and one of them is passionfruit or bai xiang guo ( bxg ). Of course, bxgs bought it because we were represented. ✌🏼

Also in a message, the brand acknowledged BXGs but later had to delete it because of well— you know who.

Dear Moto/Passion Fruit fans,

Thank you for your support to Hyunmai's spokesperson~. The gift box endorsed by Yibo is temporarily sold out, it is recommended You first collect and purchase, if it is sold later.

Please buy it as soon as possible~

7. Swarovski -  endorsed by Web 🤍

• They had turtle charms and bracelets, which endeared them to BXGs.

• They had a bracelet where you can put charms and in their Ad, it spells YIBO. of course. However a BXG noticed that on their recommended letters to add next, the letters are XZ + heart with a dot.

• Last year’s promotion of a lock necklace— Web changed his Weibo header. ‘Lock love, lock you.’

• His May 2020 Mother’s day promotion video that includes a confession (?). I know this is far off but the line used:

“ I love you, want you to see. I am Wang Yibo, this is my unique confession" is so similar to GG’s Bazaar confession.

8. Budweiser -- What we basically CPN about them is that they are an LGBT friendly brand and it’s always a plus when our boys endorse those kind of companies.

• Here you can find the CPN on the can that GG supposedly created with them.

• Their ad about ALL LOVE IS LOVE.•

 An earlier Ad that had two male leads. and another one recently released with same sex couple. 🌈

Also they did a collab with G-shock which is a brand that Web endorses.

9. Man Han Feast Noodles

• The most recent one is GG playing the Guqin ala LWJ and looking out the window to see the moon ( again ala LWJ ). Best part is GG looking like he would burst out laughing and they kept in the Ad.

• In their Mother’s Day post one line says “if you love someone you’ll always encourage them to eat more”. Sounds like a familiar gesture right? Who do we know nags each other to eat?

10. Zenith Do I even have to explain this? 

• GG chose a rainbow watch from Zenith collection for Qixi Festival. 🌈

11. Mengniu - Oh well, just last week they had to clarify as an Ad from them was seen with the words: "并肩于雪山之巅" = BJYXSZD. (Side by Side at the snowy mountain top)

12. Anta/ Li-ning - I’m adding it here cause the store owners in this video brought out GG/Web standees together 😂 Context is, there was a BJYX gathering going on so they took that out cause they knew the attendees loved them.

Plus this shopping app that put them together.

I’m capping this post here and will update this sometime in the future. However the ones I added here stood out to me or I experienced when it came out. I wanted to add Luckin Tea / Lays / Olay but that will be for another time.

As with all the CPN, feel free to not believe any of these and just take it as a coincidence. Or people clowning and reading into things more than they should. lol. Whether these are intentional or not, BXGs are always there to support the boys whenever they can. 🙏🏼

[sarahjkl82-blog]

Artistic Instinct Chapter 10

Header thanks to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty

Summary: Marcus Pike and OC Anushka Pierce have been selected to work on a 5 eyes (Australia, Canada, NZ, the UK and US) intelligence team to track down art forgeries as a part of taking down an international white terrorism cell. Marcus is trying to escape his broken heart, Anushka is just trying to escape what the world expects of her.

Word count: 6500

Warnings: Language as always, grief, loss and some second base action.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x reader (OC)

This comes with a MASSIVE THANK YOU to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty , who reads, re-reads, points out the constant flipping between tenses and gave me the confidence to try to write something. This is the first thing I have written since angsty poetry as a teenager. Apologies if it is shit!

May the flowers remind us why the rain was so necessary - Xan Oku

Chapter 10

Your eyes fly open - heart pounding, mouth dry- as the nighttime movie that played behind your eyelids finishes abruptly. Hugging your arms around yourself, you try to steady the impact of that injection of adrenaline into your veins, drawing deep breaths into your lungs as you gaze into the oil slick of darkness surrounding you. The sounds of day are yet to kick into being as your phone screen illuminates 03:02 - the trains not yet pulling out of their sidings, sirens still silenced for the most part. The night air is just punctuated by the rhythmic pitter patter of rain upon the roof and the sweetest little snores still rising steadily from your…

Your boss.

For fucks sake.

Once could be called a mistake, even if it was a twelve year long one. But back doing this shit again? Sheer fucking stupidity. Your head drops into your hands as a stab of pain cuts through your gut. What the fuck do you do now? Marcus so honestly put his heart on a platter for you last night- could you be the cold hearted, callous bitch that throws it back in his face? All of your body fizzes with fear - your muscles twitching with the cortisol so rather than irritate him with your fidgeting, you slide out of his bed.

Bare soles on the night-cooled wooden floors help to ground your flighty soul as you walk around the unfamiliar apartment. Whilst the exterior dampness can only come as far as pretty patterns on the window pane, the chill causes tiny pinprick goosebumps to stand proud against your skin. You finally settle cross-legged on the floor by the French doors leading out to the balcony, watching the raindrops race each other down the glass - mentally cheering on your favourites as they glide towards the inky pools gathering beneath them.

With your mind so lost in your new-found sport, you aren’t entirely aware of the arrival of a warm, breathing blanket that curls itself around your body languidly before you are tightly encircled by long limbs and gentle nuzzling into the side of your neck, “What’s up, honey?”

A small, precious kiss is pressed into your temple before the sleep-thick murmur continues in your ear, “Thought you’d left. So happy to find you here.”

Leaning back into his broad chest, you allow the expanse of his form that is wrapped around you to consume your body whole, “Bad dream. Couldn’t get back to sleep and didn’t want to wake you.”

“‘M sorry,” Marcus slides you slightly to his left so he can search your face for the answers that you are so incredibly reluctant to give, “Your heart is racing - do you want to talk or just have things that will make you feel better?”

Initially, you don’t feel able to catch his gaze, having thought about breaking his heart only minutes prior to his soothing arrival but when you do, everything hits you like a ton of bricks. The deep pillow creases of his cheek, sweetly mussed up hair and the earthy hues of his questioning eyes make your fist fly to cover your eyes as your tears echo the deluge of rain.

He doesn’t speak. Just holds you close. Cradling you in his arms as your body shakes into his. Marcus allows you to sit with your pain awhile - not pressuring you to speak or offering any empty platitudes to solve it- allowing the hurricane of grief to rip through you, all the while tethering you to the ground.

As the tears exhaust themselves, Marcus leaves and your eyes dance in panic at the loss of his soothing touch. The relief of hearing his kettle start to boil and then the gentle roar of taps filling a tub, stretch a ghostly pair of arms back around you, soothing the ache beneath your ribs. A hand reaches down to you offering a way out - gently hoisting you back onto your feet.

“C’mere sweetheart,” Marcus pulls you back into his chest, pressing a line of kisses along your hairline, “I’ve made you a cup of camomile tea and run you a bath.”

He makes to leave you but your haunted eyes and tight grip upon his wrist beg him to stay, “Honey, I don’t want to overstep the mark here. I’m sorry that I asked you to stay. Overwhelming you like this, isn’t fair of me.”

Trying to eloquently respond to him comes out with just a snotty sad gasp so you vehemently shake your head tugging his hand towards the bathroom. Once inside the metro tiled space - pausing between heaving breaths - you manage to squeak out in your juddery voice, “Please stay with me.”

“Please don’t feel guilty - this is just shit I need to work through,” you mumble as you fiddle with the hem of Marcus’ t-shirt, feeling his skin twitch as you accidentally make contact, “I’m sorry that it’s having a knock on effect for you.”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” he leans in to sweetly kiss your forehead, “I’ll turn around while you get in but I promise not to leave.”

“I don’t care if you see me naked - it’s just a body,” you mutter slightly confused by this sentiment when he’d been stroking your breasts earlier. As you start peeling off the t-shirt you’d borrowed from him, Marcus swings to face the bathroom door quickly.

“No,” the sharpness of Marcus’ response steals the air from your lungs momentarily - you stand in front of him like a rabbit caught in headlights, “I’m sorry, sweetheart - didn’t mean to be so forceful. No - it’s not just a body. It is your body and I wanna enjoy it properly when you’re not so upset. It would be taking advantage.”

Slowly lowering yourself into the delicious expanse of Marcus’ bath, you allow the warmth to soak into your aching bones. The water cocoons and hugs every inch of you as you permit it to unknit every knot of tension within your body.

“You can turn around now.”

A kind smile plays upon the deep creases set by Marcus’ eyes, “Tilt your head back.”

Reaching behind you, he turns on the shower attachment - the water bursting forth in a perfect summer rain across the skin of the bath water. Like a parent with a child, he checks the temperature until it reaches a soothing heat and runs it over your hair, soaking every last strand, washing away the mix of salt from anxious sweat and tears. Dropping the shower head in the bath, he then grabs a generous squirt of shampoo in his hands, lathering it into your scalp, massaging until you feel like a gelatinous blob under his skilful touch.

After rinsing every last bubble and sud from your hair, Marcus then squeezes out some conditioner - the bottle releasing the most indecent sound that has you both giggling like small children. Having coated his digits well, he starts to run his fingers through your hair - combing every strand with his hands, ensuring there isn’t a single knot to be found. A gentle finger beneath your chin tells you to tip your head back again as the shower rinses the excess away.

Settling back on the plush bath mat, Marcus passes you your tea silently and you just sit. Sit there in companionable silence - without an ounce of awkwardness- just both sipping tea as your body gradually accepts its need to sleep again.

✪✪✪✪✪

“Give me two minutes and I’ll be ready,” Marcus gazes softly after your disappearing form as you spin into your bedroom to get dressed for work. It takes every bit of gentlemanly restraint that he possesses not to follow you, run his hands over your silken skin and get a hit of your delicious taste. Instead he re-settles his mind by looking around your flat having finally been allowed a peek inside your inner sanctum.

He doesn’t quite know what he expects to see but it certainly isn’t this. It feels an odd mix in there- piles of cushions and blankets but no photos. No pictures decorating the place yet multiple empty frames propped against walls, waiting for their stories to be told. Your home isn’t really a home at all - it is just a roof over your head with nests for you to curl into exhaustedly.

“Have you been here long?” he asks quizzically, spying the battered moving boxes that have obviously been rummaged through for a missing necessary nick-nack or two but never having been fully unpacked. Marcus runs his hand over the coarse, corrugated cardboard and light spattering of dust coating them, wondering what secrets you wish to keep hidden in there and if you will ever open fully to him, to allow him to lighten your load.

“Almost two years,” he hears you muffledly answer through the jumper you pull over your head as you momentarily reappear in the doorway of your bedroom - a vision of radiantly soft curves- just knickers and a mess of limbs arguing with the item of clothing, before your breasts get hidden under the striped knitwear.

As much as Marcus tries to stop himself, his body takes the required steps forward so that his fingers can be satiated with the warmth of your skin. He doesn’t kiss you yet - the heat of his breath just dusts the shell of your ear as he inhales the scent of his shampoo in your hair.

“Look at you,” he murmurs - shaking his head in disbelief as he grabs your wrists and pulls you into him, “Beautiful.”

Using the back of his hand to release the hair caught in the collar of your jumper, Marcus takes a moment to drink in all your features. The flecks of gold in your eyes, the sharpness of your cheekbones, the streaks of wisdom in your hair - how were you, the beauty that you are, interested in him?

And then you’re kissing him. Your mouth open, soft lips inviting him into your inner sanctum. He feels your fingertips stroking into the nape of his neck, your nails scratching into the hair that twists and curls there. Shivers of pleasure run down Marcus’ spine, making him pull you closer as your touch sparks life across his body. Your gentle push causes Marcus to startle - to stumble backwards, falling back onto the sofa, sending cushions scuttling across the floor.

Feeling his jaw tic as you clamber into a kneeling position above him, Marcus tries to steady his breath by focussing on the small details of you. The darker spots of pigmentation where the sun has permanently kissed your skin. The divots of your collarbones just peeking above your sweater. The small reminder of a childhood misadventure just above your right eyebrow.

Nope. This is not working. God, I want her.

“Lower those goddamn hips,” he growls, “Sit down.”

“I can’t,” he hears you whimper, eyes shut tight, “I’ll make a mess of your trousers.”

Marcus groans as he considers the sweetness that is encased by those bright pink, lace edged panties - still not quite believing that it is him who has had this effect on you. When you grab his hands that have been stroking little circles by your knees and pull them to your ass, the heat in him rises as he squeezes and needles the delicious flesh beneath.

“This is gonna be hard having you work so close,” as soon as he hears the words leave his mouth, he regrets it. The little twitch between your eyebrows. The tremble of your bottom lip. The slight shift back of your weight upon his lap. Marcus catches them all.

“I’m sorry. Nush, I shouldn’t have…”

As your weight rocks back away from him, leaving his body quickly cooling with your absence, the air is punctuated with your muttering of one word over and over. Each utterance a bullet coated in guilt hitting him sharply.

“Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.”

Scrunching his eyes tight shut, he rocks forward, head in hands. Should he come after you? Should he leave? Fuck, Pike.

Hearing the creak of your bedroom door, Marcus lifts his head in your direction - his eyes throwing a million apologies to you, “Nush, I’m so sorry - I didn’t mean to upset you. That’s the last thing that I’d ever want to do.”

He watches as you walk across the floor - smaller shuffling steps rather than your usual confident stomp, your eyes red-rimmed and glassy and your breathing a little jagged - and feels like he’s just crushed a butterfly in his hands when all he was trying to do was appreciate its beauty. Water starts to pool in the corners of his eyes as he blinks hard to warn them off - after all, he didn’t need to give you any other reason to walk away from him. A small grateful smile creeps across his face when you settle between his knees, resting your arms across his lap - your tear-streaked face looking up at him.

“I’m frightened,” he hears you whisper, “Repeating past mistakes is sheer fucking stupidity.”

Marcus freezes, the blood in his veins turning to ice as he awaits your verdict.

“I can’t do that again. You cannot become another Jasper to me. The relationship that never was with all the hiding.”

“I don’t want us to hide,” he hears his voice betraying him as fear courses through his synapses, his hands aching to touch you. Hold you.

Please don’t let me lose her.

Please don’t let this be it.

“Can I touch you?” Marcus quietly, carefully checks before daring to reach out. He watches as a cloud of confusion washes across your face at his request.

“Of course you can. What? Hang on, did you think,” you pause, brow furrowed, “Did you think I want to stop whatever this turns out to be?”

With his shoulders slightly hunched, one hand reaching behind to rub the base of his neck, Marcus nods, “Yeah, a bit. I…”

“I don’t wanna fuck this up, Nush,” he reaches forward to stroke your wrist.

“Me neither, but we will,” your words take a moment to register with him, “We have both experienced so much - good and bad - that we will put our proverbial foot in it with each other.

“But, I hope that in time, with our collective pasts and the streaks of grey in our hair, we may also slowly learn how to communicate and say when things are a bit shit for us and why. Why my instinct is to run screaming from things and why you think everyone you love is going to leave.”

Marcus curls forward so he can rest his forehead against yours before placing a small kiss there, “Now you’re really gonna have to be two minutes if we’re gonna get to work on time. I’m just gonna shut my eyes until you’re dressed so I’m not tempted to make us late.”

“You think that’ll work?”

Chuckling at the wink you throw at him over your shoulder, Marcus starts to allow that tiny ray of hope he’s been burying for years to shine again.

✪✪✪✪✪

As Marcus opens the door for you, an overwhelming wave assaults your senses. Noises from tapping keyboards, phones ringing and computers blaring, the overwhelming scents of fatty, sugary yet discarded breakfasts and coffee hits hard but it’s the tiny, surreptitious stroke at the base of your spine gives you the kick you need to go in and start your day. A steaming coffee is thrust towards Marcus behind you and some case files are handed to you by a smiling Andy, “Morning Sir, morning Nush. What time did you manage to get cleared up?”

“Between the two of us, it didn’t take too long,” you grin at the PA before looking over your shoulder to find Marcus smiling at you, “Think I was asleep by eleven.”

“Snoring away,” Marcus barely audibly whispers, making your eyes widen.

“Ready for the meeting at nine o’clock, Sir? I have everything set up in the conference room, ready to go…” Andy sweeps Marcus away from you as you head over to your desk, spying the hot cup of Java awaiting your arrival.

New piles of paperwork seem to litter your desk, replacing the ones you’d tried so hard to clear on Friday afternoon. Office life. That it is a life is a bit of a lie, as every soul within your office space looks like it is in some stage of decomposition. Kiri appears to be in need of another weekend to get over the two days of rest just gone, Dian is yawning into her coffee and as for Harper, well, there’s a part of you that doesn’t quite believe she’s fully human with the way she’s already ploughing through her work.

When 9am finally rolls around, it feels more like two in the afternoon. Marcus sticks his head out of the door to call everyone into the meeting and is met by several groans from the team as they reluctantly shake themselves from their chairs and drag their Monday fatigued bones towards the conference room. At the oval, walnut table, you sit sandwiched between Dian and Kiri, directly opposite Andy in a hopefully not too obvious ploy to not be too close to Marcus.

“Good morning everyone, I’d ask you if you’d all had a good weekend but I think we spent enough time together to know that we all did,” a chuckle rises from your office mates as Marcus welcomes everyone, “I wanted to have a catch up this morning as the Soutine that Agent Pierce and I checked in Lyon, has come back as a definite fake. The verdict was reached late Friday afternoon and the French authorities are currently trying to trace its origins.

“We also received word this morning that a Modigliani has turned up in Sotheby’s - they have their own art fraud team but hopefully we will get a look in soon. Agent Pierce, I know I haven’t asked you to prep but could you explain to the team what the issues are around his work?”

“Sotheby’s?” you question, staring straight at Marcus and entirely ignoring his request, “I can get in there now as my best mate works in the fraud team.”

“Hephzibah?” Andy catches your eye, “Didn’t realise she’d transferred over from Scotland Yard.”

“More money,” you shrug as Andy presses his lips together and nods in agreement.

“No, Agent Pierce, I’d like us to hang back for now,” Marcus responds, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair, “If you could give us some of your insight about Modigliani’s pieces, please?”

Slightly taken aback by Marcus’ firmness, you take a moment before responding, “Modigliani’s back catalogue is a fucking mess as he used to give out sketches like a fortune teller.

“Jean Cocteau said that he was drawn by Modigliani roughly fifty times but he only ever owned one picture. Prices have skyrocketed over the past decade with one going for $170.4 million dollars so he’s very much a member of the $100 million club along with Warhol, Picasso et al but not quite at their ethereal prices.

“One of the main things about Modigliani is that the love of the man is not easily separated from his art. Over the years, he has been painted as somewhat Byronesque in his exploits by salacious biographies and films - very much sex and drugs and rock n roll. A bohemian who lived in Montparnasse and Montmartre at the Fin de Siecle - he was known by all the artists who lived there at the time - Picasso even said he was the only man in Paris who knew how to dress.

“To be honest, whilst he was hot - soulful dark eyes, ebony, wavy hair and a beautiful bone structure with an extraordinary amount of intelligence and eloquence-”

“Ah, so you have a type?” Harper mutters into her notes.

Your cheeks flush and eyes dart around the room, hoping that Marcus didn’t hear that as you desperately try to summon a consummate professional performance for the others, “-It is hugely difficult to separate the man from the myth but the main issue due to his profligacy with his art, unlike the other greats who get over $100 million for their work, Modigliani’s work is often questioned. You could easily find a Modigliani in an attic with a letter attached from the man himself and people would still raise an eyebrow at it.

“So, um, the main thing according to all the auction houses is that unless it is in the catalogue curated by Ceroni, it ain’t a Modigliani. This is problematic in itself as that was published in 1958 and even some of the pieces on his list are questionable. People have ended up in prison over their dubious dealings with Modigliani’s back catalogue as you can see in the case of Parisot.

“So if a piece comes to auction that isn’t on the list, they’re damned if it is a Modigliani, and damned if it isn’t?” Dian questions you.

“Pretty much. And he worked at a time when a lot of advances and changes happened in artist’s products. In the first half of the twentieth century, both the production of paint and paper changed massively as everything was slowly more industrialised and made more stable. By industrialising these things, it made the equipment cheaper quicker as more could use it rather than being made Etsy-style in tiny batches that were way beyond the means of most artists.

“Normally, with older pieces we can look at how the artists use paints and the type of paints they use but with more modern artists everything becomes a bit murkier as it is harder to date. And I will stop there before I piss off Harper by rabbiting on too much more.”

Even Harper has the decency to smirk at your comment before returning to her notes. Marcus’s gaze has softened again as you finish speaking, “ Thanks, Agent Pierce. Perhaps we could hear from you now Agent Gleason and Youngerson?”

Harper raises her eyebrows in Marcus’ direction before starting, “So, Agent Youngerson and I have been looking at various right wing groups currently active across the world and what their links are to the art world. The main ones who have thrown up scents for us to chase are The Old School Society, Hydra and The Order.”

Dian looks up from her pad of extensive notes, “Yeah, we've been tracing money routes with those three and when looking at the main donors to these groups, they’ve all had dealings with art galleries and auction houses recently. So we’re now looking into each donor carefully and may need to do some in the field meetings with them as prospective buyers - so my darling work wife, Nush, we may need notes unless you fancy being our cover girl?” she comically winks at you. Making a little heart with your index finger and thumb, you send an equally cheesy wink and click of the tongue back at her.

Marcus huffs a chuckle out at the two of you before turning his attention to Kiritopa, “How have you been getting on with your catalogue of fakes relating to this case?”

“Yeah, alright - slow going collecting all the data as it seems some auction houses are reluctant to reveal how many fakes pass through their doors,” Kiri frowns before glugging some more coffee.

“It’s understandable, they don’t want their reputations dashed. Doesn’t make our work any easier though. Agent Morrison - if you can show me what you’ve compiled so far that’d be great,” Marcus gives the agent a small, sincere smile before turning to address the room again, “Right, I have a meeting this afternoon that’ll keep me out of the office for the rest of the day so I’ll leave you all to get on. Have a great day everyone.”

✪✪✪✪✪

You:

Hey sexy lady, I hear you’ve got a tasty little number at S’s - can I take a look?

Hephzi:

Off the books? Course you can. Change into civvies and I’ll get you in this afternoon.

You:

You’re a fucking ⭐️. I’ll make it worth your while

Hephzi:

Do you mean cake and coffee? Because if you do, I’m fucking yours.

You:

Urm obviously! See you around two?

A small knock on your desk makes you put down your phone and you look up into Marcus’ face, “Hey, you got a minute?”

“Yes, Sir,” as you push your chair away from your desk, you throw your mobile in your desk drawer and follow him into his office.

His desk is immaculately tidy and warm to the touch with its honey and caramel tones washing back and forth in undulating waves as if across a beach. There’s not a hint of Marcus in his office yet - no personal treasures - it stands in stark contrast to the warmth of the man you’re getting to know.

“I just wanted to check you were ok. I heard what Harper said,” he reaches out to straighten the ribbing at the bottom of your jumper, his thumb stroking your tummy lightly.

“She’s not wrong,” you grin lopsidedly at him as you step in closer, placing your hands on either side of his face, “Dark soulful eyes, beautifully high cheekbones, delightfully luscious lips that are perfect for kissing - hard not to fancy Modigliani, really.”

“You’re mean,” Marcus squeezes your hip as he shakes his head, “When would you like to speak to the others? I think being up front with them will help us in the long run.”

You sit on the edge of his desk, leaning back slightly, your face illuminated by your smile, “Maybe we can have our first date and then think about the long run?”

When you see the flinch from Marcus, a pang of guilt echoes through your gut as you recall your earlier conversation, “I think you’re right- once we’re truly confident we know where this is headed, we should speak up. I am not going to lose my job or risk my reputation for you… but I also already know that I don’t want to lose you either.”

“Me neither,” his hand reaches out for you, fingers entangling, thumbs stroking - eyes crinkling as they meet yours, “What are you doing for lunch?”

“Well, I was a bit distracted when I got dressed this morning - there was this really hot guy in my flat…”

“Uh huh, tell me about him,” Marcus slowly drawls, looking down at you amusedly.

“Oh you don’t want to know, Sir. Wouldn’t let me get dressed. Just kept groping me.”

“How... inappropriate of him.”

“Yeah - so I was almost late to work because of him wanting his wicked way with me and accidentally ended up putting on two different shoes.” Marcus steps away from you and having looked down, notices the one extremely dark navy and one black ballet pump with a gently shaking chest as he tries to swallow his chuckle.

“Going home to change? Your mind really must have been elsewhere,” you nod at him -slightly embarrassed by your initial genuine mistake that has now become a cover story. His gaze intensifies as he cups your face, his eyes focussing on your lips, “I’m sorry honey, I don’t think I’ll have time to drop you there and back before my meeting - will you be ok?”

“Of course, Marcus - I’ve worked here for years,” you tease him, feeling awkward as fuck when the half truth you are spinning for your boss feels awkward and bitter in your mouth.

But his kiss doesn’t. Marcus quickly closes the gap between the two of you, leaning towards you - his head tilted, lips soft and welcoming with their desire for you utterly apparent. Deepening the kiss, his mouth gently opening, tongue searching as his hands drop from your face to your waist, you find yourself forgetting to worry that anyone could walk in. Forgetting the regret of lying to him. What had you even been talking about? Should you be doing this? Fuck it. You pull him the final distance so that no air could pass between you - just you and Marcus refusing to pause for breath until your lungs run out of air.

Pulling back to gaze at him with lust blown pupils, wanting him so much more, you eventually find the energy to push away from him. Swiping at your lips with your thumb in case anyone spots the remnants of this moment as you walk towards the door on brand new baby deer legs.

“Hey Nush,” you swing back to look at Marcus, still standing, equally dumbstruck as you, before he winks with a cheeky grin, “Nice shoes.”

✪✪✪✪✪

Gripping the cardboard carrier that holds two steaming cups of black coffee in your left hand, you ring the bell to the magnificent Bloomsbury building that has sold multiple pieces of multi-million pound art. The Georgian façade is impressive in its structure and beautifully kept without a sign of peeling paint, decrying its almost 250 year history - a far cry from the shatterproof glass and steel at HQ. Hephzi opens the door to you with a wide grin upon her face, “Bang on time, missus - I swear the only way to get you places quickly, is with the promise of fine art to get you salivating!”

You can’t really respond eloquently to her as you are absorbed into the cool of the elegant building. Whilst kept modern and minimalistic, the space has retained some of its more charming period features - the cornicing and ceiling roses are still firmly in place despite the stark white of the walls. Oh, the pieces that have passed through this space! The very thought makes you tingle all over through excitement.

Currently bedecking the walls are a collection of women artists about to go up for auction the next day. To you, there was no true money in those frames - just a conversation between you, the spectator and the artist about their emotions in picture form. A discussion that spanned centuries as you follow Hephzi’s soft footsteps through the gallery, enjoying every single one from a still life of flowers surrounded by butterflies and other insects by Rachel Ruysch to one of the copies of Blinding by Tracy Emin - the upside down nude female form shaped in neon pink tubes. The artists speak through ages, through the art upon the wall, in the language of your soul.

Marcus would love it here. Oh to bring him and enjoy it together, walking through the space, hand in hand. My head on his shoulder...

“...Hello? Earth to Nushka? Ah, welcome back,” Hephzibah is shaking her head at you, “You’re here on work experience if anyone asks, yes?”

“Yup,” still only half listening to your friend, you begrudgingly continue on to her workspace in the fraud and forgeries department, reluctantly walking away from the art you long to submerge yourself in.

“Right, hand over the coffee and cake- I take payment in advance, Madam,” Hephzi demands, hand outstretched, “So tell me about the new job. What’s your new boss like?”

“Marcus is nice,” you quietly offer into the rim of your coffee.

“First names already?” Hephzibah’s eyes are round with surprise, “And you mention him before the job… Who even are you? What have you done with the real Nush? Oh! Oh Nush, do you like him?”

You stand there blinking hard, feeling an absolute idiot for being so awkward in front of the person you call your best friend. A small, barely perceivable nod through the steam of your coffee has the arms of your best friend wrapped around you, “Nush, tell me more - has anything happened? Do you think he feels the same way?”

“I think so. Made a curry last night for the team at his flat, and ended up staying the night - nothing happ.. Well, we didn’t have sex but I think he likes me,” you nervously chatter at her before drawing a deep breath, “He’s pretty fucking amazing. Seems to be genuinely a nice guy - just straight talking, gentle, kind and holy shit is he good looking! His kisses and touches just turn me into fucking jelly.”

“Better than Jas?”

Your heart thuds in your chest so hard that there is a point where you fully expect it to wrench open your rib cage and run across the floor. You stare wide-eyed, your mouth open

“What?”

Hephzi steps forward, her gaze gentle as she places her hand on your arm, “You weren’t quite as good at hiding it as you thought you were. It was pretty obvious you were together and loved each other very dearly - I just knew that if I ever brought it up that you would run a mile.

“I tried telling you that I knew before. It was after he died and I wanted you to know that I knew it wasn’t just the death of a co-worker. Not that there’s ever any just in those situations for us either but I knew. When I asked about meeting someone the other day, it was more of me just trying to figure out if you were ready to date again.”

With that, the floodgates open and the grief flows you like a river, eroding your defences away. Hephzi holds you as you utterly soak through her expensive blouse, “I wanted to tell you so many times but I was terrified of what you’d think of me.”

“What I’d think of you - are you fucking kidding me, you absolute idiot?” she tucks your tear drenched hair behind your ears, “I’ve held your hair back in pub toilets as you’ve thrown up from too much alcohol and gotten you out of so many other scrapes but that, a relationship with a man from work is what you think I’d judge you for? Nah, that's not how any of this works, mate. Firstly, you can’t help who you fall in love with and secondly, where else are you ever going to meet someone when all you do is work?”

“N...N...Need a tissue. You made me get all snotty,” you tearfully stammer, all blotchy-face and tear streaked.

Hephzi can’t help but laugh at you blaming her for your tears. As she grabs a tissue, she also grabs the cake and the serviettes from the bag, “Come on, I know what’ll cheer you up - cake and a masterpiece.”

Following her into the studio beside her office, there it is. A supposedly lost version of Modigliani’s Nu Couché sur le Côté Gauche - her sheer sensuality rolling off her in waves. The way that she gazes out of the piece beguilingly, inviting you to join her on the bed, the sheets ruffled and rolling beneath her delicious curves.

Hephzi laughs at your reaction to the piece, “She’s hot isn’t she?”

“Yep - I’d definitely do her. I’d like to say that it is her almond eyes enticing me but really, it’s that entirely biteable bum,” you say before biting into the pastel de nata.

“Agreed - although for me, it’s her back and her thighs. They are edible - as you rightly say,” she says into her coffee.

“How’s the provenance?”

Hepzhi pulls a face as she turns back to you, “Traceable, but this one isn’t in Ceroni.”

“Shit.”

“My thoughts entirely. Look, love, I can’t let you touch it but feel free to take photos, measurements etc. As soon as my own tests come back, I promise you’ll know before the guys upstairs do,” Hephzibah asserts before sitting back on the desk in the room, “Just remember, you’re here on work experience.”

You throw a thank you over your shoulder at the rapidly retreating figure of Hepzi as you set to work. Using a Canon with a macro lens, you instantly photograph the major features and then take several overlapping pictures so that you can look close up on your computer at work. Whilst not quite a microscope, it would have to do given the circumstances. You trusted Hephzi’s sample taking but it was good to see it in person, even if Marcus had asked you to hold fire.

Whilst you were taking measurements of various points and aspects of the picture, you realised there were multiple footsteps coming up the corridor. Hephzi, obviously heard them gaining on the studio too and rejoined you, to back the story of work experience rather than letting her old friend backstage for some covert readings. She threw her notebook at you with a pencil to have the pretence of you taking notes as she worked.

“Well, Hephzibah, that is the first time I’ve ever seen you entrust your beloved notebook with anyone other than yourself. You have never even shown me the secrets you record there, and I am the person paying your salary,” a truly plummy voice cut through the room, “Whoever this work experience girl is, we will have to see about hiring her if you trust her this much.”

Hephzibah plasters a smile onto her features, “Sir, she is the best I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet. Such a keen eye.”

Refusing to turn around, you carry on making notes in Hephzi’s journal, attempting to concentrate on the words written in front of you, instead of the intrusion.

“So what d’ya think? On first impressions, is it real?”

Shit.

That voice.

Stepping up in response, Hephzibah firmly states, “Sir, I am terribly sorry but I am not currently at liberty to be able to fully disclose that info…”

“Oh no, it is quite alright, Hephzibah - this gentleman is Marcus Pike. He is currently fronting an investigation into white terrorism and art forgeries with 5 Eyes. One of your old lot, you know,” Hephzibah’s boss winks as if he was letting her in on the national secrecy act.

“Marcus Pike?” Hephzi shoots you a surreptitious look before the smile is back, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sir. Shame we haven’t crossed paths before now.”

Marcus offers his hand in greeting to Hephzibah, “I hope we can put that right in the future. I was wondering if we could hear from your work experience person. I am always open to fresh eyes.”

Dread courses through your veins as you turn towards Marcus, not wanting to look him in the face, “It would be remiss of me to make a declaration without reading through and tracking back the provenance as well as undertaking the necessary infrared and paint samples.”

“Sensible,” Marcus nods, his face not betraying a single emotion.

Your face creases at his lack of response, something that Hephzi’s boss picks up on, “Are you alright, dear? You don’t look terribly well.”

“Sudden headache, sir. I should probably get going for today anyway,” you virtually throw Hephzi’s notebook at her before grabbing your bag, “Thank you for today, I will be in touch, Hephzibah.”

Running out of the building as fast as your feet and lungs can carry you, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket.

Sir Agent Marcus Pike:

Hey,

We need to talk. My office at 5?

You:

...

Tag list of glory (as ever, please ask to be put on or dropped from the list): @astroboots @silverwolf319 @sirowsky @leonieb @disgruntledspacedad @bison-writes @the-ginger-hedge-witch @danniburgh @day-off-inkyoto @green-socks @tardisfangurl @absurdthirst @mrsparknuts @zukoyonce @yespolkadotkitty @lunaserenade @theravenreads @honestly-shite @sharkbait77 @lawfulgranola @agirllovespancakes @theravenreads @lv7867 @ezrasbirdie @songsformonkeys

[kopikokun]

Spilled Drinks & Study Sessions༄ mark l.

↳ When you’re forced into a study session with your next door neighbour Mark, who also happens to be your academic rival in school, things go south very quickly.

pairing; mark lee x reader

genre; fluff, slight angst, enemies to lovers (more like friends, but anyway)

wordcount; 2503 words

author’s note; how the hell do you guys write e2l and make the transition so smooth? bro i could never. also, the header pic is different than what i normally do :/ it’s kinda eh, but i liked the picture so i had to do something with all that empty space

Request 26: Mark + “Oh, are you ticklish?” (73) + “Why are you naked?” (109)

— 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧. | 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬.

The animosity between you and Mark is intense and painstakingly obvious to everyone around you. Well, everyone besides your parents, you suppose. 

   “Can you stop being so loud? You’re distracting me,” you grumble, angrily flipping through your homework. 

   “Well, I’m sorry for breathing.” Mark rolls his eyes at you. “Would you rather I stop entirely instead and drop dead right here, right now?”

   “At least it would be quieter if you did.” You press your pen down harder, taking your rage out on your poor, innocent worksheet. If you’re going to blame anyone for the excruciating torture your homework is enduring, you’d blame Mark. Even if it technically isn’t his fault, you’d still pin the blame on him. 

   “What’re you gonna do with my body? You wouldn’t be able to lift me, I mean, you couldn’t even open that can of Coke.”

   Your cheeks grow warm, mentally replaying the image of a grinning Mark as he effortlessly opened your can of Coke, the soft hiss of its fizz taunting you. Mark had puffed up his chest triumphantly like he was some kind of hero. For crying out loud, he had only opened a can of Coke, not saved his country. It still bruised your pride though, having to ask for help from Mark, your sworn rival since middle school. Childish, you know, but you’re certain that Mark thinks of you as such too. 

   “Whatever,” you fumble for a name to call him, “nerd.” Mark snickers at you. “My fingers were just slippery.” He arches a brow, challenging you, and you scowl. “I wouldn’t be able to lift you because you’re heavy, fatass. Not because I’m weak.” You twirl a lock of your hair around your finger. “And look who’s talking, Mr. I-Can’t-Open-Doors.”

      Mark flushes crimson as he silently fumes. “That was because I was pushing the pull door!”

   “That’s even worse, Mark,” you tease, unable to suppress a smile. “Dumbass,” you mumble below your breath, enjoying the way Mark seethes.

   “You’re calling me a dumbass? If I remember correctly, I was the one who placed above you last term.” Mark haughtily flips a page in his workbook. “Which I think is why your parents want me to tutor you.”

   You throw a measly eraser shaving at Mark in rebuttal. “You know that’s not why I’m here!” Another shaving is thrown at Mark’s head, yet he doesn’t even look up at you. “In fact, your parents probably wanted me here so I could babysit you!”

   Neither you or Mark are right. Your parents just chucked you together because they thought that after all those years of living beside one another and having weekly dinners together, you two would be absolutely wonderful buddies, and you can’t fault them for assuming such a thing.

   Logically speaking, you and Mark are supposed to be the bestest of friends. As much as you dislike the word, it seems as if fate has decided that you two are meant for each other. Gross. 

   In almost every situation possible, you and dear Markie boy over here have been unwillingly strung together—from group projects, to assigned seats, you two just can’t get a break from one another.

   Your parents had innocently thought that having a little study session while they went out for a double date with Mark’s parents would be beneficial for you two. Perhaps even fun. Fun, your ass. 

   All those years spent with Mark hasn’t made you friends, no, it’s made you rivals.

   Yeah, so not sworn enemies, but what’s life without a little exaggeration?

   You’ve always been a bright kid, some would even go as far to say that you’re ‘gifted’, but you think ‘persevering’ is a better word to describe it. You weren’t just born naturally intelligent or outstandingly athletic, no, you’ve had to work hard, insanely hard, for that. It hadn’t been handed to you all nicely wrapped with a little bow to match, just for you to tear it open and take. You’ve had to tolerate and undergo several sleepless nights, and many agonising hours of training. 

   Up until middle school you were top of your class in all aspects. You were idolised (well, as idolised as you could be for a middle schooler anyway), loved and acknowledged. It had been blissful. 

   That was until, little Mark with that stupidly cute gleam in his eyes came along, skipping over to you in those worn-out track pants and smiling toothily as he introduced himself as your brand new next door neighbour.

   You have to admit, initially, you and him were close friends. You’d walk home together, sneak out to go to the convenience store together, share snacks together, the list goes on. You’d even given Mark your very first kiss, right on the cusp on your twelfth birthday. He didn’t know that it was your first kiss though, and he’ll never know. You’d rather be shot at point blank range than give up such private intel. 

   But when one day, in seventh grade, when Mark had begun closing in on you in rankings, outrunning you at the park and gradually being everyone’s new favourite, you found yourself isolated. Even one of your friends, a girl with straight long hair that fell past her waist, started hanging out with Mark more than with you.

   And when you invited her to your thirteenth birthday, the first thing she’d asked was, “Is Mark going to be there?”

   And at that same party, you saw her, kissing the boy you had been crushing on for the past year. And it looked like Mark really enjoyed kissing her too. More than he did with you.

   From that point on, you began to distance yourself from Mark. It was gradual, slow, but you knew Mark could tell. When he finally surpassed you academically too, you started harbouring a resentment towards him, and the rivalry between you two started.

   You were somewhat hoping he’d confront you, at least wonder why your attitude towards him had seemed to change in the blink of an eye, but he hadn’t. And that stung.

   Obviously rumours had circulated in middle school about what was going on between you two. Kids, no, people love to talk. And talk they did. 

   It had been widely known that you and Mark used to be inseparable at one point in time, and it was jarring seeing how differently you two were acting around each other.

   Mark and that friend of yours had broken up some time after that, and evidently she was pissed. It seemed as if she had begun spreading gossip about you, claiming that you had been some sort of psycho ex-girlfriend and that you had threatened Mark to break up with her, essentially, she was villainising you.

   When high school finally rolled around, Mark’s ex had moved by then—you weren’t sure where and you didn’t care to know. The rumours eventually died down with her absence, and you thought that maybe, just maybe, you and Mark could finally make amends, bury the hatchet, as one would say. But that never happened.

   Looking back, you’re a bit amused at what an eventful and dramatic childhood you had. All those scandals at just thirteen? What a boss bitch. Present you would not be able to stomach that.

   You take a peek at Mark. He’s attractive. Of course he is. He had been a cute kid, no doubt, but as he’s aged, he’s matured into his good looking features. He’s not the rugged and manly kind of good looking, he’s got more of a sweet boyish look to him, and in your opinion, it adds to his charm. 

   “What are you staring at?” 

   Shit, you’ve been caught. No, caught? It’s not like you were doing something you shouldn’t have. “Nothing.” You reach forward to take a sip from the infamous Coke can. It’s lukewarm, but you gulp it down regardless, trying to appear unfazed.

   “Were you checking me out?”

   Disaster strikes just as those words leave Mark’s lips. The putrid sensation of warm coke leaves your mouth entirely, not because you’ve begrudgingly swallowed it all, but because you’ve spit it out from the sheer shock of Mark’s question. 

   “Hey! What the fuck?” Mark stands from his chair across from you and its legs scrape against the floor with a sound that makes your skin crawl. 

   You cough and sputter, gasping for air. Once you’ve gotten past that tight feeling in your throat, you wipe the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. A few droplets of the sugary drink dribble onto your shirt. But fortunately, well for you at least, you’re not as drenched in spit-laced Coke as Mark is. 

   “Shit!” You lift your gaze to look at Mark, who’s surprised, to say the least. 

   Mark takes a breath to say something, the words on the tip of his tongue, but he clamps his mouth shut, opting to groan in annoyance instead. “Jesus, why’d you even do that?”

   Your face burns in embarrassment. No way you’re going to admit to him that you were checking him out. Sort of. “I don’t know, it just went down the wrong channel, I guess.”

   Mark’s lips form a thin line of dissatisfaction. “Yeah, okay, whatever.” He cringes as his shirt sticks to him. “ I’m gonna go change.”

   He runs a hand through his hair, face upturned in frustration as he stomps up the stairs, his footsteps echoing throughout the living room. Your eyes follow his figure until he turns a left into his room. 

   You sigh. If you were home alone, you would have screamed in humiliation. The can of Coke on the table mocks you. You resist the urge to pick it up and hurl it into Mark’s neighbour’s backyard—well, your backyard. 

   A sliver of positivity presents itself in the form of you and Mark’s mostly unscathed worksheets. There are a few stray droplets here and there, but it’s barely noticeable. It would’ve been much worse for both Mark and you if you had drenched those as well. In fact, your homework wouldn’t be drenched in just saliva and Coke, but also in tears at that point. 

   You curse the can in your grasp, its aluminium smooth against your skin, before you dump it in the bin. Good riddance, bitch. 

   I should apologise. You can suck up your pride for that. No, this isn’t even about petty things like pride anymore. That shouldn’t matter. I should apologise, you think to yourself firmly.

   Alright. Apologising. Sorry. You inhale deeply, gathering your senses and calming your jittery nerves. Why are you even nervous? It’s not like you’re professing your undying love to him. Chill the fuck out.

   As you’re standing before Mark’s single, wooden door (which looks extremely daunting for some reason), it doesn’t dawn on you that perhaps you should knock first.

   If it had, then perhaps you wouldn’t be staring at a shirtless Mark, your hand still wrapped around his doorknob and your mouth hung agape.

   “Oh my God, Mark!” You cover your eyes, the door shutting behind you with a creak. You’re a bit ashamed at how fast your cheeks are overtaken by a hot, prickling feeling. “Why are you naked?”

   Mark, though just as startled as you are, has the common sense to reach blindly for the stained shirt he just took off, holding it in front of him. “What do you mean why am I naked? Why are you here?”

   You take a few steps back, your back pressed up against the door. “I- I came up here to say I’m sorry. You know, for uh, just now?”

   Your hands slowly fall to your sides as you burn holes into Mark’s carpeted floor with your eyes instead. 

   “Oh, uh, o-okay. Apology accepted, I guess.” Mark’s voice cracks and he clears his throat. “Let me just uhm—”

   You can hear his drawer sliding open and the faint rustle of fabric. All the while you keep your gaze glued to the floor, feeling your cheeks grow warmer by the second. Oh my God, you’re acting like a little girl who’s just held a boy’s hand for the first time.

   This isn’t the first time you’ve seen a guy naked—for fuck’s sake, Mark’s not even naked. He’s all covered up where he should be. Why is the sight of just his bare body from the waist up making your mind go blank and your palms grow sweaty? It’s not like you have feelings for him anymore. No, you don't.

   “You can uh, you can look up now.”

   You steel yourself, looking up to face Mark. Why did you have to steel yourself? It’s not like he’d have taken even more clothes off once you looked up again. You feel like slamming your head into the wall.

   You fiddle with your fingers, searching for something to say to try and ease the tension. “Uh, sorry. For spilling that Coke all over you, I mean.” You scratch the nape of your neck. “And for you know, walking in on you changing.”

   “Why didn’t you leave?”

   Your shoulders slump. “Huh?”

   Mark chuckles confidently, like he’s unabashed. His cheeks are ablaze with colour, though. “I mean, why didn’t you just back out of the room when you walked in on me changing? Why’d you just stand there?”

   You blink at him. Why didn’t you just leave? “I- I froze up, okay? Don’t bully me!” Your ears are burning.

   “Yeah, okay, okay.” Mark raises his hands by his sides, that entertained smile never leaving his lips. “Let’s go back down, okay? I still need to finish my work.”

   You chew on your inner cheek. “Yeah, whatever,” you try to find a creative name to call him.

   “Yeah, I know. Nerd.” Mark raises his brows at you, still with that amused grin. You wish you could smack it right off his stupidly handsome face.

   You huff, turning on your heel and practically booking it to the stairs. Mark catches up to you in no time with long, languid strides. Stupid long ass legs.

   “Hey, wait up, loser,” he says, a hint of delight in his voice. He pokes your side and you jump, shoving his hand away and mustering a weak glare at him. “Oh, are you ticklish?”

   You gnaw on your bottom lip. “No, I’m not, fatass!” Despite your harsh tone, your cheeks deceive you, blossoming with warmth yet again.

   Mark smiles genuinely this time, although there’s no sarcastic edge to it whatsoever. “You getting shy?”

   “No, I’m not.”

   “Hey, don’t be upset!” The next thing Mark says is nearly incomprehensible, but you hear it. Oh, you definitely do.

   “You look cute.”

   Your head swivels to look back at Mark, and you realise that he hadn’t meant for you to hear that.

   The faintest of smiles teases your lips, before you turn away, denying him the satisfaction of seeing you break out into a grin. “Yeah, whatever, Mark.”

   Now, it’s Mark’s turn to be enveloped in heat as a red tint spreads across his cheeks.

[shoutosteakettle]

⤷ pairing: shouto todoroki x reader

⤷ genre: fluff

⤷ word count: 2786

⤷ a/n: i had a lot of fun writing this even if it took me three days, so i hope you guys have fun reading,, thank you @ererokii​ for beta-reading and making the header, love you bby

☆彡

“What do you mean we have the day off,” you asked your boyfriend, one foot already out the door, and you fully dressed and prepared to go kick ass as a pro hero.

“Look outside Y/n,” you shifted your attention from Shouto, focusing on the raging blizzard outside through the window of your apartment.

“You’re going to let a couple of snowflakes stop us from saving people,” you asked, not so silently judging the half and half man currently pouring himself a bowl of cereal in the kitchen.

“The agency called for an off day. You can go to work, but no one’ll be there,” Shouto sighed, grabbing the milk carton from the fridge.

“Are you serious,” you pouted, stepping back inside and closing the door behind you.

“I know how much you love your job, but you work too hard. Maybe this is a sign that you should take a break,” Shou suggested, putting the cap back on the milk and placing it on the top shelf inside the fridge.

“I love that you worry for me, but I work so hard because I love my job. Seeing the smiles on people’s faces whenever I arrive at an incident and being able to help them is always the second-best part of my day,” you confessed, making your way back to your bedroom so you could change and get comfy.

Shouto watched you disappear into your shared bedroom as he took another spoonful of his cereal. He listened from the kitchen as you opened and closed draws, grumbling about how much this sucked. He would never admit it, but his feelings were a little hurt that you thought having to spend a day with him was that bad. After a couple of minutes, you reemerged from the bedroom wearing a pair of Shouto’s grey sweats that sat loosely on your hips, not that it mattered because the oversized pink hoodie you were wearing covered everything up perfectly.

You made your way over to your boyfriend, who was in the middle of reading the back of the cereal box. “Is there any more,” you asked Shou, prompting him to look up from the maze he was close to solving. You guys had been living together for three months and dating for twelve, but he couldn’t help but blush every time he saw you in his clothes.

“Uh, yeah,” Shou said, reaching over to hand you the cereal box. He watched as you mimicked the same steps he had taken earlier, taking a bowl out the cabinet, then moving to the fridge to get the milk, and he realized something that made him feel all fuzzy on the inside, it was always in moments like this where you looked the most mundane when you were the most beautiful to him.

“What are you staring at,” you teased, pulling out a chair across the table from your boyfriend.

“You,” he paused mid-scoop of his cereal, a bit taken aback by his own suddenness, but deciding to along with it, “Do I tell you often enough how beautiful? Because you are very, very beautiful.”

Now it was your turn to blush. You reached over to run your fingers against the softness of his cheek, peering into his eyes as you felt the butterflies in your stomach begin to rise, “I don’t know how I ended up with someone as perfect as you.” You watched his lips curl up into a smile, and you noticed the way that his eyes lit up when you leaned over to steal a kiss before sitting back down in your seat.

“So what should we do today” you asked, completely blanking on anything you guys could do to have fun on what was probably going to be a pretty boring day.

He took less than a minute to ponder your question, before standing up from the table and gathering his dishes, “Do you remember the night you first stayed over? We popped-”

“Popped popcorn and made a fort and spent all night cuddled up together watching movies,” you recalled, remembering how nervous you were that day. By now, being all close and personal with Shou was something you had gotten used to, but in the earlier days of your relationship, it took you awhile to get used to how cold he was. He wasn’t someone who craved affection, which meant 90% of the time you were the one that had to initiate interactions with him, even the little things like hand-holding. But over time, he had gotten used to the random pecks on his cheek, and your hugs from behind, and every now and then he would call you by a name that wasn’t your own, or pull you in for an unsolicited smooch session. “Is that what you want to do today?”

“Unless you want to do something else. It’s up to you,” Shou answered, placing the bowls he had finished washing on the drying rack before shifting his attention towards the empty food bowls by the fridge.

“I think that sounds like a plan,” you smiled, standing up from the table to pass your boyfriend a can of cat food from the pantry. At the sound of the can opening, you watched the eyes of your black house cat open, and after a short stretching session, the pitter-patter of her little feet on the hardwood was heard throughout the living room. For a second or two, you watched to make sure that she paced herself while she was eating, worried that she might choke on the pellets.

“Y/n, Luna is going to be fine. I don’t know why you worry about her so much,” Shou sighed, picking up her water bowl and trailing over to the sink. You listened to the soft purrs of your cat as she ate from her white food bowl, decorated with black fish and crossbones patterned around the rim, before the sound of the tap running filled the silence of the kitchen. You had found Luna one day in the parking garage. You remember how scared she looked when your eyes met hers through the windshield of your car. She was half dead and starving and in no condition to be running the streets the way she was. The next month and a half consisted of you and Shouto taking her to vet appointments and learning how to function with the new addition to your family.

“Well, she is our practice kid, right? If I do a good job parenting her, then the skills should automatically transfer over when we have a real kid to take care of,” you said very matter of factly, watching the muscles in Shou’s forearm flex as he squatted to place the water bowl down where it had originally sat.

“So how about you pop the popcorn and I set up the movie, that way we can do the fort together,” you asked, already moving towards the living room. You heard a quick hum from Shouto followed by the sound of his slippers hitting the kitchen titles. You shuffled through Shouto’s Blu Ray collection, picking out some of his favorite movies along with your own.

Just as you were about to shift your attention towards trying to figure out how to work Shouto’s ancient DVD player, the lights in the living room went out, then the ones in the hallway. You turned your head to Shou, who was standing in the kitchen, pressing the buttons on the microwave in frustration, trying to get it to work again. You moved to pick up Luna, ignoring the painful sting of her nails scratching your skin before walking towards your confused boyfriend in the kitchen corner.

“Babe, I think the power is out,” you said, placing your hand on top of his, successfully grasping his attention. “I think we should call the landlord.”

ミ☆

While you listened to the conversation Shouto and the landlord were having on the phone, you checked in with your neighbor across the hall, asking her if she was having the same problems but most importantly, making sure she was okay. She told you that her power had gone out too and assured you that she and her family were doing perfectly fine. After you had texted her goodbye, you turned to Shou, who had just finished up his call. “It looks like the power for the whole city is out,” he sighed, and that was pretty sucky, but the sad look on his face bothered you even more.

“What’s wrong, Shou? Is having internet really that important to you,” you joked, trying your best to lift his spirits only to be met with a heavy sigh.

You felt the weight of the couch shift under you, and you watched as Shouto took your hands in his. The feeling of his warm, calloused palms against you, along with the intertwining of your fingers, was one of your favorites in the world. You looked up from your hands and into Shouto’s eyes only for him to already be looking right back at you. “It’s not about the wifi. It’s just that today was finally going to be a chance for us to spend some time together. We may work at the same agency, and sleep in the same bed, but recently I’ve just felt really… distant from you,” he confessed, and you had to admit it was a bit odd for him to be the one complaining about distance.

You felt more than a little guilty as all the times you turned down eating lunch with him in favor for a couple extra minutes of gym time, or the times you would come home after patrolling into the late hours of the night, only for Shouto to be fast asleep, came rushing back to you. You couldn’t stop the tear that had rolled down your cheek or the ones that followed after that as you stared back at the sad eyes piercing your soul. “I’m really sorry, Shou,” was all you could manage to choke out before you wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him into a hug that spoke all the words you were unable to.

Confusion was evident on Shouto’s face, he didn’t expect his sudden outburst expressing his feelings to have the effect that it did on you. Uncertain on what to do with his hands, Shou settled on rubbing your back, trying his best to calm you down, “I didn’t mean for you to cry Y/n. I’m sorry if I said anything to offend you-”

“I’m sorry for being the worst girlfriend ever. I can’t believe I put my job before you,” you sobbed, feeling bad that he had to put up with you for the past couple of months, “Look our day isn’t completely ruined. We can still build the fort, and instead of watching movies, we can… catch up on some reading!” You watched the smile on Shouto’s face slowly grow into a big goofy grin before he nodded in agreement with your idea.

☆彡

Shouto had taken responsibility for the fort’s structure, making sure the blankets were secure in the way they draped over the back of your kitchen chairs and that there was enough room in the fort for the two of you plus Luna. You were on comfort detail, scouring the apartment for pillows and fluffy blankets, seeing as the heat had gone out it was up to you to make sure that the members of your household didn’t freeze to death. 

After what felt like hours, but was really just thirty minutes (something Shouto was sure to remind you of every time you complained), of hard work and bickering about the placement of certain pillows and where to lay the blankets, you and Shouto were able to take a step back and look at the masterpiece you and he had created. “It’s beautiful,” you said, feeling on top of the world and full of pride because you knew that you and your boyfriend had just built the most perfect fort that had ever had the pleasure of gracing the earth. The base of the pillow fort was decked out with your thickest and most comfortable blankets and fluffiest pillows, seeing as that would be where you would be relaxing, so of course, you would want it to be as comfy as possible. Surrounding the fort were four chairs, all an equal distance from each other, on top of those laid your thinnest blankets, Shou had decided that they were the least likely to weigh the fort’s structure down. The mix-matched colors and patterns of your fort happened to compliment each other in the best way, which only added to its beauty.

You got on your hands and knees to crawl inside, considering that the fort was nowhere tall enough for you to get inside any other way. You were waiting for Shou to join you, but instead, you were met with your pet cat’s soft purs. You heard Shouto’s footsteps descending back to the kitchen, and you waited a minute or two for him to join before you let your curiosity get the best of you, “Whatcha doing over there, Shou?”

“Just give me a minute, I’ll be right there love,” the sound of the nickname he didn’t use too often made your stomach once again fill to the brim with butterflies. You looked over to Luna and gave her an excited smile, and in return, she gave you a quick ‘meow’ before going back to licking in between her paws. 

To fill the time, you decided to start one of the books Shouto had picked out for you to read. It was called Broken Things and much to your surprise, the book was actually really interesting, the story followed this girl who was willing to give away everything for the happiness of others, regardless of the repercussions it had on her life. You were sure he was trying to send you a message because Shou saying you were too nice was a complaint you heard leave his lips way too often.

When Shouto finally came back, he had a mug in each hand, proving it to be rather difficult for him to get inside. You took the cups from his hands to help him watching as he got down on all fours like you had earlier and  inside to join you and Luna, the warmth of the cups was a nice difference from the cold air in the room. “Is this hot chocolate? The gas is out too, right? How did you make this,” you asked, your eyes wide with awe because he had remembered your favorite drink, something you had told him when you first started dating. Your eyes followed the small smile on your boyfriend’s lips as he took a seat to the left of you before reaching for his drink.

“This same way I can do this,” he said, pulling you in closer so you could feel the warmth of his quirk. You snuggled in close to the human radiator sitting next to you, setting your cup down in favor of picking up where you had left off in your book, Shou doing the same.

After what couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes, you broke the comfortable silence that had settled between the two of you, to ask Shouto a question that you had been bugging you all day, “The office didn’t call for an off day did they?”

“How did you know,” he asked, looking over at you like a kid that had been caught drawing on the walls.

“Agencies don’t call for off days dummy, they can’t have all the heroes on break when there’s still people out there to save. Plus, you’re terrible at lying, I could tell you weren’t telling the truth the moment after you said it,” you looked up from the page you were on and into the heterochromatic eyes that had been staring at you.

“Do you mind if I ask you a question too,” Shouto asked, receiving a hum from you in return, “You mentioned earlier you said work was your second favorite part of the day, what’s your first?”

Once again, you looked up from your book, completely abandoning this time it in favor of laying your head on Shou’s chest and closing your eyes before answering his question, “Waking up next to you.”

You couldn’t see him, but you already knew his usually pale cheeks were slowly turning to a shade of rosy pink, and you cursed yourself for missing out on seeing his reaction.”

“I love you, Y/n.”

“I love you too, Shou.”

[itsmyregularcat]

Can you tell us your top 9 Cats performers? Idc which Cat they play.

Well anon, I know you have been waiting a bit for this, but I promise I did not forget.

Firstly, I do want to state that I am not necessary committed to everyone on this list as being my favourite / top performer. I have such a deep appreciation for all the actors that do not get the same level attention as others do, especially given the number of productions of Cats there have been. Many of the performers below could be swapped with just-as-equally talented actors. 

Also, anytime I say that I love an actor, either in this post (or my entire blog for that matter), it is meant completely in admiration, and not in a romantic sense. These are still real people, and they deserve respect and privacy. Weird aside, I know, but sometimes I think the fandom may get a bit too involved in certain actors. I know I am not immune to this.

Just a warning, they are all going to all be female performers, because this is a  blog that stans queens only, and seemiingly only the Broadway Revival given my choices.

Anyway, without further ado,

Lili Froehlich - Electra (2016 Broadway Revival)

Somehow, and in some way, I feel in love (not in a obsessive way of course) with her after watching a bootleg of the Broadway Revival. I think it simply was for the fact that she was the first Electra in any US based production, and I thought that was really cool. Well, obsessions always sneak up, and look who is my icon and header? Look who made me into an immense Electra stan. Look who inadvertently lead the path that made me write a freaking 7200 word Electra fanfic. It is all her fault.

Zizi Strallen - Tantomile (Cats 2019) and Demeter (London Revival 2014)

If we truly are pointing fingers at people who caused obsessions, I would point at Zizi. When I watched Cats (2019) the first few times, it did not really move me, but there was something about that happy grey cat with the stunning voice that broke through in my mind. Cats (2019) is what introduced me to the musical and to the fandom. Also, guess who made me soft for Tanto? Her.

Jo Gibb - Rumpleteazer (London / Cats 1998)

Jo Gibb is the reason I became super obsessed with Cats, and probably why my (first? second? who knows) favourite character is Rumple. Having initially seen the 2019 movie before the 1998 film, seeing her smiling face and adorable portrayal made me sort of fall in love with her. She is a perfectly mischievous Rumple, and I feel is the benchmark for most others. Her engagements with other characters is awesome, and she is just the ideal actor.

Freya Rowley - Jellylorum (Cats 2019) and Tantomile / Swing (UK Tour 2013)

My Big Orange. Freya does not sing in the movie, and is just a background cat, but my god is she the best cat there! During her time with actual stage productions, she was a principle Tantomile, and covered Demeter, Jelly, Jenny, and Cassandra as swing.

Leah Sue Morland - Electra (Cats 1998) and Electra / Rumpleteazer / Swing (London)

The other reason I became an Electra stan. Underappreciated in the 1998 film. Her mannerisms bring the character to life.

Emily Tate - Tantomile (Broadway Revival 2016)

Given all Tantos do not really have an opportunity to set themselves apart because they are more of an ensemble Cat, I liked Emily from the beginning I saw her, and I think she is really cute. Her, paired with CJS, make a pretty ideal Cori and Tanto. Maybe I am swayed by the amount of lifts and spins they do together during the show? They have a beautiful synchronization and grace with their movements.

Christine Cornish Smith - Bombalurina (Broadway Revival 2016)

She is brings a lot of dynamics into her role as Bomba. Plus, she is freaking hilarious in the What’s New Pussycat web series. Did I pick a silly picture because her humor? Yes I did.

Georgina Pazgouin - Victoria (Broadway Revival 2016)

A prominent soloist with the New York ballet, renowned for her distinctive style, and you can appreciate her portrayal of Victoria if you watch a 2016 bootleg show. She has also pushed out against ballet norms by being “The Rogue Ballerina” as a means of embracing the qualities that make her unique as a dancer, such as her 'bigger’ (in terms of ballet) body type. Hells yeah.

I am going to put my ninth pick as something different, a cop out of sorts.

It is in honour of all the swings that do not get love the should. Here are a few:

Maria Briggs - Cover Victoria, Sillabub, Rumpleteazer, Jennyanydots, Tantomile (Broadway Revival 2016)

Anastasia Bertinshaw - Cover Cassandra, Electra, Jemima, Tantomile, Victoria* and Anneke Brunekreeft - Cover Bombalurina*, Cassandra, Demeter, Electra, Jenny Fleckenreich, Tantomile (Vienna 2019)

Claire Camp - Cover Cassandra, Bombalurina, Tantomile, Victoria, Electra (Broadway Revival 2016)

Anina Pletscher - Swing "Electra", covering Jemima, Tantomile, Victoria, Cassandra and Coricopat (Asia Tour 2020)

Also, a special shout-out to all the “lifers” that have been in multiple productions across many years and sometimes continents. You are the real ones.

Thanks for the ask!

[henrycavell]

Heroine

*not my gif, if i end up actually updating this, i’ll make it a header 

pairing: clark kent / ofc named Emma

summary: working on it

warnings: the only warning i can think is, im not sure if this is going to be a series, or if its just going to be a string of one shots or if im just posting this to never update it but here we go :)

word count: 1.7k

@littlefreya​ @mary-ann84​ @wondersofdreaming​ @forthebrokenheartedthings​ @geralt-of-baevia​ @asylummara​ @dearlybelovedluke​ @promptandpros​ @mansaaay​ @daddys-littlewhitegirl​ @vacant-writings​ ​ @80scavill​ @kaatelyyynn��@iloveyouyen​ @henrythickcavill​ @hell1129-blog​

Her body ached, every inch of her flesh felt bruised and every muscle and joint was sore and throbbing. Emma’s body laid atop the rubble from the battle, a destroyed street corner that ended up taking a little family owned sandwich shop out too. Cutting through the sounds of camera shutters and people questioning her seemingly unconscious body, Emma could hear the owner of the shop crying, throwing his hands in the air and freaking out. How was she focusing on that background conversation so easily? And… was this her fault?

The last thing she remembered clearly was walking home from campus. She’d failed a math test and had been freaking out about it, certain she was going to have to repeat the class next semester. The absolute last thing she remembered was telling herself there was nothing she could do about it now, and had decided to treat herself. So, she had turned the corner of Main Street with the intention of heading to the little ice cream parlor at the end of the block.

It had been a relatively normal day. The sun was setting, the temperature was dropping and the sky was a beautiful mix of pinks and reds turning to purples. Emma had passed several couples and families out enjoying their evening as she strolled down Main Street. At that’s where her memory ends.

Forcing her eyes open, Emma pulled herself up into a sitting position and tried to ignore the throbbing headache that was pounding in the back of her skull. The sudden movement from the young woman garnered a reaction from the news reporters and the citizens who had gathered around. The entire crowd seemed to silence, their breaths catching in the back of their throats. But the quiet didn’t last for very long.

“Miss! Miss! Can you tell us what happened?”

“Where did you come from!?”

“Do you know Superman??”

Questions came hurling at her so quickly that she hadn’t had time to answer any of them. Emma’s eyes widened as she looked around at all the different lights, cameras in every direction pointed on her. And she hadn’t the slightest clue what she had done. Or what had even happened.

“How did such a little thing like you take out those two big men?” A reporter with a sleazy mustache asked, pushing a microphone up to her mouth as two EMTs tried to make their way through the crowd to her.

“Get that out of my face,” Emma mumbled, swatting away at the microphone, feeling her stomach twisting itself into knots. She never had liked having attention on her, not even a little bit. One of the EMTs came up to her side and got down on his knees to her level, beginning to check her over, asking if she was alright. “I’m fine,” she mumbled, pulling her arm away from the medic.

The man looked towards his partner, before back at Emma. “We just watched you crash through the side of that shop. Let us take you and check you out.”

The last place Emma was going to go was anywhere with these strangers. “No, I’m fine.”

A new voice entered her focus, demanding to be heard over the rest of the reporters even though it was soft and gentle. “She said she’s fine.” This reporter wore a brown suit over a navy plaid button up. His hair was perfect, not even a strand out of place. Large black framed glasses caught the reflection of the street lights in the night, hiding swirling pools of blue. The man’s brow was set into a hard line as he shooed the men away, though he knew there was nothing he could do for the mass crowd behind him. Clark only knew this girl didn’t need medical attention.

Clearing his throat, he held his hand out to Emma and gave her a small smile, nervous that she wouldn’t take it. He needed to speak to her and he hated that it had to be under the guise of a Daily Planet reporter, but he couldn’t speak to her as anyone else. “Names Clark. I… Daily Planet.” He mumbled, his gaze falling to his suede shoes on the wet pavement, his hand falling before Emma even had a chance to take it. Positive that she wouldn’t have anyway. “Let me just help you out of here,” Clark offered, looking back up at her before he reached for her hands on his own, pulling her up from the debris she had made a bed out of.

Emma had wanted to refuse him, had been thinking about pushing him away, too. To hell with his help, reporter was written all over him. It was just an attempt to get her to answer his questions over the rest. But he hadn’t given her a chance. Pulling her up to her feet, Emma groaned, feeling her back pop in places it shouldn’t. The strange man held her close to his chest, using his free arm to push his way through the crowd. Other reporters quickly shouted for their camera men to follow, with their pens and note pads in their hands they tried frantically to chase or stop them.

“Hey! Hey, wait!” They would shout, but Clark hadn’t hesitated for a step, nor had he allowed Emma to. Leading her down the street, Clark silently cursed to himself. If he were alone, he could turn down any one of these alleys and then just fly off to escape the vultures on their heels, but he couldn’t do that now.

Letting his hand fall to Emma’s, he grabbed it tightly and pulled her down a darkened street, before immediately pulling her into the empty back entrance of a closed restaurant. Clark flattened himself against the wall, forcing Emma to do the same with his arm across her chest. Her heart was pounding heavy, impossible for him to ignore. The shadows and the dumpster concealed the pair and Clark watched as the crazed reporters continued down the street with their camera men on their heels.

The large man’s shoulders slouched as he stepped away from the wall, one hand raising to his face to fix his glasses. Before he could even open his mouth, Emma was already walking away from him. “I’m not answering any questions for you, either.” The night was cold, a chill breeze rolling through the empty streets. Emma could hear the sounds of police sirens right around the corner and still, she wondered just what she had done.

“Then I won’t ask any,” Clark called after her, taking a few steps in her direction.

“Then you have no reason to be following me.” Emma pointed out to him, heading in the opposite way of the police lights, not sure what way she was headed. But Clark wasn’t ready to give up yet.

“Where are you going? You just went through something unbelievable and you’re acting like nothing has happened. Let me just make sure you get home safe-“ Clark reached out to place his hand on her shoulder. Emma turned on her heels and jerked away from his touch, looking at him as if he were an alien, but she couldn’t have possibly known that. “Don’t touch me. I don’t need your help.”

Clark frowned, freezing in his tracks as he looked down at Emma. He couldn’t shake this feeling he kept getting, especially when he looked right into her glistening eyes. Like she was completely clueless, afraid even. “Do you even know what just happened?” His question rolled off of his tongue in a breath, and Emma’s reaction was all the answer he needed. Her brow pulled together and her stare faltered from his. Her gaze dropped for just a second, a slight hesitation before her lips parted, but no words came out.

“Let me help you,” Clark repeated, reaching out to her once more. His hands fell on her shoulders and he turned her back in the direction she had initially been walking in. His hand fell down to her back, but not in a way that sent chills down her spine. Rather, it was comforting. Emma looked up at Clark as she followed him down the sidewalk, trying to tell herself that she was being tricked. He was a reporter, and all he wanted was the scoop first, he didn’t actually care. But what did Emma have to tell him? She knew nothing.

Whenever Emma closed her eyes, she would see slight flashes of the event. She’d remember what it felt like to throw a man through a brick wall, and how it had felt when she’d hit one herself. But she couldn’t recount the event, not at all. “Let’s get you some food, just sit down and relax for a bit. Then I can call a ride, take you home.” Clark was speaking again, pulling Emma out of her thoughts. For the moment, he wasn’t acting like a reporter and that was enough to help keep her calm.

Clark kept one hand on Emma for their entire walk, afraid that at any second the woman would get frightened again and decide to run. Still downtown, Clark brought her to a little restaurant he had visited on a handful of business occasions. They had little golden lights twinkling outside of their windows and a black and silver striped banner. It was fancy, but cozy and inviting at the same time.

“I’m… not very hungry,” Emma hesitated at the door, lingering on the stairs as Clark held the door open out for her.

“That’s fine,” he spoke, though a little frown came to his lips. “You don’t want to stand out here in the cold and wait for your ride, though, do you?” Clark motioned into the restaurant anyway, forcing a little smile her way. “I’ll order the ride now, promise.”

Emma sighed, her hands hugged around her torso, already bitter over the chilly temperature. Something told her that if she entered the restaurant with Clark, he’d be trying to get her to talk about the event sooner rather than later. But she was a rather long walk from her apartment and he was right, she didn’t want to be out in the cold any longer.

“Fine,” she mumbled and stepped into the restaurant before him.

[raendown]

I was bribed in to this by @rookie-d and @sleepysenseis and I regret nothing. Show some love to Rookie’s art for this au as well!

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 1893 Rated: G Summary: Owning and running a bakery with his husband isn't exactly where he thought life would take him but Tobirama wouldn't trade this for the world.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Patissier-pation Award

The familiar chime of a bell greeted him first as he walked through the front door, eyes down to inspect the mail he had gathered on his way in. Mostly junk, a couple of bills, and a letter that he would bet his entire bank account had come from Hashirama. He would know those graceless spiky letters anywhere. Off on some nature retreat for the past month, there was little doubt this letter would be filled with the same rambling nonsense as the last one had been, lengthy descriptions of the woman he had apparently fallen in love with at first sight. 

Under the hum of halogen lights and the ever present smell of baked goods Tobirama could hear a slight groaning sound that made him smile. Instead of going to look for the source right away he continued to flip through the mail until he had sorted junk from bills, slipping behind the till counter to put everything in its right place. Running their own shop was hard work some days but always worth it in the end. While he was there he tidied a few receipts from the day before and used a nearby rag to wipe off a bit of icing probably smeared around by a customer’s child. Only when he was satisfied that everything was in order did he finally turn to look at the plush couch set just a little ways apart from the rest of the seating area. During peak hours the various armchairs and stools were usually filled with people taking a few minutes to enjoy the treats they had just purchased. 

Since right now was not peak hours the only person to be found was Madara, stretched out across the couch that Tobirama had quietly purchased just for moments like these. A fond smile touched his lips as he watched his favorite idiot rub at a full belly with furrowed brows. 

“How many of those tarts actually made it on to the shelves?” Tobirama called out to him with a lightly scolding tone. 

“Most of them!” Madara shot back. Then he groaned again while both hands paused to delicately cup his stomach. “I could have sworn I only ate a few. Just to taste test. Quality checking is important!” 

“I see.”

The argument might have been a bit more believable if Madara didn’t use the same one every time he overindulged in his own products. He was the one who initially came up with the idea for the two of them to open their own bakery and Tobirama supposed he should have known then that doing so would lead to regular episodes like this one. His husband was an amazing patissier but he was also his own biggest fan. Or his stomach was, at least, and Madara had never been known for denying whatever his stomach wanted. 

“Did you by any chance happen to find time to finish the Sarutobi order before you took your little snack break?” 

“Of course I did,”’ Madara huffed. Generously sacrificing one hand for a moment, he pointed imperiously towards the order counter where there indeed were three boxes with the shop logo printed on the front stacked neatly together and tied with ribbon. Inside there would be a dozen cupcakes each with, if Tobirama was remembering currently, blue icing and rainbow sprinkles arranged to spell out the recipient’s name. A fairly simple order. He wasn’t surprised Madara had finished the whole thing while he was gone, though he was surprised there had been enough time left over to gorge on the tarts he’d put in the oven before he left. 

Since he trusted his partner Tobirama didn’t offer the insult of going to check the order. Instead he mentally checked it off his list of things to do before heading in to the back to go wash his hands. There was still another order he needed to get a start on, although most of it would have to be finished tomorrow. He was fairly sure they wouldn’t have enough icing until their shipment arrived the next morning. 

A quick peek in to the fridge on his way by confirmed his suspicions. Although they still had a tub each of pink and white, yellow was running low and the red was all but entirely gone. If he tried to decorate anything he might have enough to use red for a couple of accents but certainly not enough to cover several dozen cookies in the pattern the order called for. It was a good thing all this wasn’t due to be picked up until late tomorrow. 

Hands clean, Tobirama tied an apron around his middle and began pulling out the ingredients necessary for making his specialty gingerbread, one of the quickest selling items on their menu every winter. When he was younger he never would have believed that life would take him here. As a child he’d mostly been obsessed with science and little else. Most of his career dreams had centered around NASA or biochemical research, plans for changing the world with his magnificent discoveries. Now he co-owned a bakery with his husband and spent most of his days rolling dough or decorating cakes, all in between manning the till and watching children’s faces light up as they picked out which treat they wanted to take home. It was hardly the auspicious career he’d always imagined but it was a good life, full and happy, one that he wouldn’t trade for anything. Not even for the trips to outer space he used to dream about. 

So lost in his own musings was he that it felt as though he’d only just begun mixing the dough when he looked down and found row upon row of perfectly shaped cookies all laid out before him. Some were made to look like people, some like trees, and others still were laid out in thick flat sheets with which he would later build a house. Gingerbread was always quite fun to work with. A quick count told him that he already had everything he needed as well as a couple of spares in case one or two of them burnt in the oven yet there was still just a bit of dough left over.

With a whimsical smile he reached for his tools again and began to shape a new pair of cookies.

Baking gingerbread didn’t take all that long, almost as much time as it took for them to cool once they were back out of the oven, and as he packaged everything to keep it safe for tomorrow he set his final two creations aside. It may have been a whim but he’d never sent anything out of this kitchen that hadn’t received his full effort and he wasn’t about to now. There was, after all, just enough red icing left - not to mention plenty of black. 

Madara was still draped across the couch in the front shop when Tobirama came out to check on him, one of their fancier order boxes in hand. The bellyache appeared to have passed and instead pulled the man down in to a light food coma. Long dark lashes fluttered against pale cheeks when Tobirama bent to stroke one of them, rousing his husband from what looked to a very peaceful if possibly undeserved nap. 

“Mnng? I wasn’t asleep.”

“Your snoring tells another story.” 

“T-that wasn’t snoring! I was just humming a song under my breath!” 

Lifting one eyebrow, Tobirama shook his head. “Mhm, very convincing.” 

“Shut up! What’s that? I didn’t think we had anything else going out today. Did I forget something?” Madara frowned and his eyes grew distant as he went over their orders for the week in his head. 

Rather than let him suffer Tobirama simply placed the box in his lap. 

“You forgot to greet me properly when I came back from running errands but I’ll forgive you for that just this once. These are for you, if you’ve still got room in your belly.” 

“Oh?” 

Always intrigued by the promise of more sweets, Madara plucked at the edge of the box to pull the tab keeping it closed out of its slot. He lifted the lid with an almost childish expression of anticipation that morphed in to a graceless full-mouthed gawk when he spotted the gift inside. Much to Tobirama’s horror, he caught sight of what looked to be tears gathering in his husband’s eye.

“Is that...us?” 

“Yes it is.”

“We’re holding hands. And you gave yourself a little fur collar just like your favorite jacket!” 

Tobirama rubbed sheepishly at the back of his neck. He really liked that jacket. “A little extra detail never hurt anyone,” he murmured as though in protest. 

He was mortified to see Madara cradle the cookies in one palm so he could use his other hand to gently stroke the little red icing lines marking where Tobirama had tattooed his own face during a rebellious youth. The number of times Madara had given those marks the same gentle attention were uncountable and it never failed to draw a little color in to his cheeks, embarrassed that his heart could be so softened by such a simple gesture. 

“Just eat them and go back to moaning about your belly,” he grumbled even as he leaned in to the touch. Madara huffed at him in amusement. 

“What brought this on, hm? I feel like I’m being rewarded for something.” 

“It was a whim and nothing more.” 

Something about that seemed the right thing to say as Madara puffed up like he’d been complimented, as though being gifted cookies made out of leftover dough were the greatest gesture of love. 

“Thinking about me, were you?” his husband asked with a sly undertone. 

“I am always thinking of you,” Tobirama admitted. It was true so he saw no reason to deny it. 

Madara blinked once. “Oh. Well...I’m always thinking of you too. So there!” 

Both of them blushing and flustered, two silly little gingerbread men still held ever so carefully in one of Madara’s palms, Tobirama was eternally grateful there were no customers in the shop to witness the disgustingly sweet scene they were surely making. With a rough clearing of his throat he pulled away and cast his eyes anywhere else in the room. 

“Right,” he said gruffly, “eat your cookies. I’m going to go take inventory so we can call in another supply order tomorrow.” Spinning on his heel relieved him of the sight of his beloved husband cradling such precious if silly gifts but it did not spare him the sound of a quiet voice trailing after his rapid footsteps. 

“I love you.” 

Tobirama wrinkled his nose against the wave of mushy feelings in his chest until the urge to turn around and throw himself down on the couch with his partner had faded. He stepped out with purpose, with dignity, with every intention of going to make himself useful for the rest of the afternoon. But he did pause in the doorway to the kitchen long enough to turn his head to one side. 

“Love you too,” he murmured. 

It felt like capitulation but, then, Madara had already won his heart many years before and the life they’d built together would always be sweeter than any treat he could bake for himself. 

[mrs-hollandstan]

Behind His Back || Mobster!Harrison Osterfield {1}

• Business Deals & Love Affairs•

Pairing: Mobster Tom Holland Sister!Reader x Mobster!Harrison Osterfield

Warnings: minor character deaths (car accident), language, brief & vague implications of male masturbation, language, mobster talk (I.E. shipments including guns & drugs), erratic driving, alluded to smut (most likely more in the second part), brief mention of childhood bullying.

Word Count: 3,829

Author’s Note: Ahhhhhh, I’m so excited! This is one of the greatest concepts presented by @giuls-394 & I am so so excited. So the overall title is Behind His Back & the little headers are chapter names that I’ll use, mostly for the masterlist I’m going to make. Let me know if you enjoy and you can always ask to be added to the taglist! Italics is background and character history stuff. 

Blurbs the series is based off of: x x x x x x x

Series Masterlist || Masterlist || Next⟶

It wasn’t that Harrison wasn’t into you before you graduated from high school, or hit puberty, or had a brief love affair with makeup, but he honestly thinks the reason he fell so hard, and onto his face so suddenly  for you, was because each of Tom’s men had restrictions when it came to you. The off limits bouty placed over you when Tom became boss is what fueled Harrison’s want and need for you. And you weren’t one to deny him. Not after having swooned over him for almost sixteen years. He seemed to be there always. Your brother and Harrison met when they were six, in Year One, and from that point on, the two had been inseparable. They played in the front yard of your houses growing up despite the constant moves around town. Like all younger boys, he had his moments of pulling your pigtails, but as you grew, he had eyes for you. By the time you were the age of ten and Tom and Harrison were twelve, Harrison was realizing that his very first crush, other than his teen babysitter from years before, was you. He not only knew Tom, he knew you. He could tell of the slightest change in both of your rooms just walking in the door and he knew of any new style choices, especially on you. And especially after he hit puberty. He thought the whole, spending two hours in the shower thing was a farce, until he hit puberty and you were always on his mind. It progressed into secondary school and because you were only two years younger than the boys, you were pretty close and if your lunches synced, you were most likely with the duo. You both had you fair share of boyfriends and girlfriends but nothing sated the attraction you both had. And then, your Year Eleven and Tom and Harrison’s Year Thirteen, he watched you and Tom go through all of the emotions when your parents died in a car accident. The wreck had Tom pale and almost never eating and you waking up screaming in the middle of the night from your nightmares. He’d been scared out of his wits by the noise and then Tom jumping up from his bed to get to you and settle you down for the rest of the night. He’d seen the lost look in your eyes when he visited you at work. Tom, now eighteen was old enough to be the man of the house and care for you, getting a job of his own to pay for the bills after what was left of your parents money was depleted. And by the time he was almost twenty, he was approaching Harrison with the idea of running his own business in New York. At first Harrison was supportive, but realizing this business meant being in the FED’s eyes always wasn’t something he was dedicated to. Dealing in theft of guns, alcohol, money, cars, and the occasional, blind eye drug shipment, Tom practically begged Harrison to be his right hand man. “She’ll never have to work a day in her life ever again Harrison.” Tom had reasoned. He was so protective over you and all he wanted was for you to be the quintessential queen. Sit on a throne and agree to everything Tom said and no one questioned you. Hearing you agree indisputably is what had him agree. So the three of you set out for New York and Tom made it big almost immediately.  He was providing for you and creating an empire, Harrison catching a glimpse of some of the income Tom raked in when he was handed a thick stack of money each month with no words transpiring between your best friends. Tom had changed, there was no denying that. His dark eyes lost their playful sparkle and he virtually became a drill sergeant. The rules you and the gaggle of his men had made it seem like your father was still alive and when the line was drawn in the sand between you and his gang, you and Harrison just watched each other from afar. Suddenly the both of you knew of each others feelings and you’d never wanted to act upon something more. Harrison could see when he looked in your eyes, the longing and want for your brother’s best friend. And he knew that even with the threats from Tom both to his job and his life if he acted upon that want, he’d give you what you wanted. He’d go to hell and back for you. Because after sixteen years, Harrison was done staring at you from afar. You were the only thing that kept him grounded in this world and he would be damned if you married another man just because your brother forbade it. 

                                                           —

“I’ve got her.” Harrison muttered to Tom who checked his watch for what felt like the tenth time. Wandering down the hall, the squeak of Harrison’s shoes along the wood floor matched his heartbeat. He loved and hated this little forbidden love thing you had going for you behind Tom’s back. How you threw yourself at him and kissed him like it’d be your last. You both lost your breath each time you kissed and his touch sent tingles across your whole body. The little Romeo and Juliet merriment was exhilarating but if Tom discovered it, you’d both be dead, Harrison’s head displayed as a warning to the rest of the single men you saw daily who dared betray your big brother. Knocking softly at the dark mahogany door, he waited until you crooned out a welcome to enter. You glanced at him in the mirror, unphazed,

“Zip me up?” He nodded and took long strides towards you, listening to the metalic zipper on zipper sound for the fleeting moment before doing the small pearl button at the top. You smoothed your dress over, sighing and finding his eyes in the mirror again when he places his hands over your bare arms, “Why do I have to do this? Go to this meeting and be his little date… I’m not even involved in the business.” You huff and Harrison smiles, leaning in to kiss your shoulder, “You’re the arm candy. It shows we’re serious. Shows that we’re not fuckin around.” You sigh again, this time through your nose. The scent of Harrison’s Armani cologne fills your senses and your heart calms. Turning to him, he looks you over. He loves the way you look, but he hates that you don’t have a promise ring or a necklace with his initial on it dangling between your clavicles. You’ve been unofficially exclusive for almost two months and the idea of your brother finding out terrifies you both. His eyes are still in yours when he kisses you neck, “You need to hurry. He’s impatient.” Finding your abandoned heels, you slip into them, hand on Harrison’s arm to steady yourself. He watches you dress completely, sighing as you walk towards him, “You look beautiful. Absolutely stunning.” Cocking your head, you smooth the sleeve of his jacket down, “And you look amazing my love. I wish… I wish I could be your arm candy.” He smiles gently, playing with your hair, “I know. And in secret… you are my love.” “But I want to scream it from the rooftops.” He leans down, gently kissing your forehead. He holds his arm out which you loop your small hand into, “I know. And I’d love for you to but… your brother will have my head if you do. We’re in so much trouble if we even give him a glimpse at what we have.” You nod, leaning in as he whispers. You glance down the marble staircase at your brother who’s jaw ripples as he clenches it. His eyes are locked on you and his face is unamused. Since becoming the boss, he’s become quite the hardass. Harrison passes you over and Tom releases his wrist from the opposite hand to mock Harrison’s posture. You loop your hand in his arm as before and match his footsteps as he leads you out an all black Bugatti in the driveway. You throw him a look as he unlocks it and opens the door, “Don’t you have personal drivers for this?” He shrugs, “I’d much rather show up in style than an Escalade. Make me seem childish.” You know he’s playful but the stoic expression doesn’t fade as you climb in the passenger seat of the car, minding your limbs as he closes the door. A few men stand poised outside, Harrison being one of them as they wait for Tom to clamber in beside you. By the time he does, you and Harrison share one last glance and he walks to the car behind you, the Bugatti purring to life below you. Tom drives too fast for his own good. You know this more than anyone. Most times you watch the row of black cars behind you with Tom’s men inside fade as his speed surpasses ninety. And just like always, you watch in the mirror as the SUVs disappear, becoming part of the background, just dancing lights in the distance. “You’re quiet.” Tom breaks you from your trance, eyes not failing from the road despite you looking at him. You swallow, “I just… I just didn’t know why I had to come.” He hums, eyes darting over the darkening road before he looks in the rearview mirror and then to you for just a moment, “Arm candy.” “I get that, but why show them you have a weak spot?” “I’m not. If they see you, they know there’s someone to continue the business if they try and fuck me over. And trust me… they know we’ve got French blood. They know that your… woman scorn is gonna be ridiculously harsh if they try and pull anything.” You scoff, staring at the pink and orange sky before you, deep colors that are fading out as darkness chases it and the sun is snuffed out for the day, “Right because they’d love a woman in their business.” “Ya got Harrison.” Your heart stops for a moment, and then starts pounding making you feel faint. There was no way he knew. You and Harrison are almost never together and when you are, it’s long after hours when his men are asleep or have gone home. It’s only for a few, fleeting moments just so you both have something to date you. You look at him like a deer caught in headlights, “What?” He glances at you again, not paying attention to your terrified face, “Ya know, to back you up. You have Harrison.” You nod, body going slack now that you know he didn’t mean it the way you thought. He sighs and you’re left in silence again other than the steady pound of your heart starting to calm again and the hum of the car as Tom shifts through gears. Soon, he’s pulling up the gravel drive of the mansion that almost resembles yours and Tom’s, the tiny rocks crunching beneath the tires as Tom pulls through the automatic wrought iron gate. You swallow, suddenly nervous as you take in the fountain centered in the rounded drive, water flowing from the mouth of a gargoyle from God knows where and towering over the bubbling recycled water in the seemingly new, tan terra cotta basin. The black home behind it has lights twinkling on the porch and inside that almost maje it feel homely. Almost. Already, you can see a chandelier that’s bigger than the one Tom had installed in your own home a few months before. The car’s engine dies out and Tom pulls the key from the ignition, resting them on his black, polyester slack clad thigh that blends in with the leather seat below him. He slouches in his seat, waiting for the guards he left in the dust miles back to catch up and cover the both of you. Walking into the building without Harrison or any of the other minutemen would be like drawing a dashed line across your own neck. No protection, no backup, no escape plan, no escort. And with your luck, no more little forbidden love affairs with your brother’s best friend. “You stay with me, or Harrison. No wandering off, even if you have to go to the bathroom. This is one of the biggest deals so far. Martinez is one of the biggest men in New York right now and he’s got one of the best shipments of guns from Russia.” You frown at him, “What’s the use of guns to you? Don’t you have enough?” He shrugs, “Yes but… we keep em flowing. I sell em for more than what I buy them for, keep them coming, we could be carrying some of the best guns straight from the source. Besides… if we get this shipment, he’s been gettin gold and diamonds… rubies Y/N/N. I could have a ring, a necklace made for you. One like mum’s.” The silence that rings through the car is tense and Tom swallows, “Sorry… sorry that was wrong of me-” “No, it’s okay. That’d be… that’d be great. I loved mum’s ring.” When your hand in placed over his arm, the warmth radiating through the two layers of sleeve covering his skin, he smiles, resting his head back against the headrest and looking to you, “I do it for you. All of this… so you don’t have to work, you don’t have to struggle ever again. Your kids… your family will be so well off.” You nod, pressing your fingertips to the hill of his hand, “I know Tom. And I love you for that. I’m spoiled and you’re amazing and the best big brother ever.” His eyes flicker up to the roof and he moves his hand to almost fan himself, “Yes… keep it coming.” You squeal and swat at his arm, the two of you laughing, “Shut up.” He glances in the mirror when your group pulls in, the same crunch of gravel surrounding you. The towering cars surround your own, and Tom quickly emerges from the driver side, rounding the car to let you out. He holds his hand out to help you up, hand placed at your lower back to steady you on the uneven drive. You reach out to button his jacket, finding his eyes, “Going to kick ass huh Holland?” He gives a small smile and a curt nod before he offers his arm out for you to loop your hand in like twice before. Leading you up the stairs, you glance behind you just once to see Harrison who gives you a small smirk. Two guards standing at the doors open them, holding them for you and entourage. When they slam behind you, you jump and give a gentle gasp, Tom flexing his bicep to silently tell you it’s okay. Tony Martinez, one of your brother’s biggest business partners appears from the dining room, wide smile set on his squarish face, “Holland. Nice to see you again. Ahh… and the infamous sister. Very, very nice.” Martinez eyes you and not only do you feel like crumpling yourself in a ball, but both Tom and Harrison, stood behind you want to pummel him into the polished marble floor. Especially Harrison. You give him an almost shy smile, “Martinez.” His smile seems to widen and he turns on the heels of his polished leather shoes, leading you back towards where he came. Tom shoots you an unsure look before he follows with you and a few of his men in tow, Harrison included. When you enter the dark meeting room, Martinez pulls a chair out, holding it out for you, “M'lady.” You glance at Tom who gives another curt nod and let’s his arm fall limp, opposite hand leaving his pocket as he watches you sit. You glance up at Martinez, eyes lingering on Tom and Harrison when your back is to Tom’s business partner for the moment. Harrison sits beside you on one side, Tom on the other and Martinez the opposite of you. He folds his hands before him and for two whole hours, you sit and twiddle your thumbs, listening to him and Tom go back and forth, Harrison intervening every so often. By the time you’re walking back out to the car, hand in Tom’s arm yet again, Tom and Tony have made a deal and your brother is set to have another meeting in a week. He closes you in the quiet car, standing just outside with Harrison whom he talks to for a few moments. When Tom turns to head to the driver’s side of the car, Harrison shoots you a look before he turns and heads to his own car. Just as before, Tom swerved through the hills far too fast. But no matter what, he won’t listen to you if you tell him to slow down, it’s useless. Shifting into fifth gear to extinguish the scream of the transmission, the car jolts as Tom holds his hand palm up. Glancing at him, he’s highlighted a light blue only by the electronic glow of the dashboard. He glances at you for a moment, eyes funding the road again and squinting in the dim headlit road, “Thank you for coming. I know it might have felt useless, you being there, but at least it got you out of that stuffy house. I appreciate you as my sister and a woman.” You lips quirk as you set your hand in his, “As if you didn’t before. Who else would put up with you when your men despise your despotic rule.” He gives a chuckle through his nose, lips turned up. He squeezes your hand, “See… proves you’re the best.” He shoots you a smile before your hand weighs his down, the headlights in the mirror, closer than ever as Tom takes his time, speed around sixty just to enjoy the moment. Just to feel you with him. He feels like he’s been so preoccupied with business, he hasn’t had time for you. He wants to change that. And this is the start. When you pull in the garage, you’re both squinting at the blaring white walls before you. You sigh, letting his hand go and smiling at him, “I need a hot shower.” He smiles, following you from the car. When you, Tom and Harrison come to stand in the foyer, you hold Tom’s arm to remove your heels, both men watching you. They both smile as you stand on your toes to kiss their cheeks, “Goodnight boys. I am whooped.” Tom chuckles, “Goodnight. Sweet dreams.” Harrison’s smile just widens as he and Tom watch you scale the marble stairs, cold and soothing beneath your feet. You can hear your boys talk in the foyer a few minutes longer before you’re running the shower, the warmth soothing your aching body. You let your muscles decompress for a few minutes before deciding it enough. You’re sluggish climbing from the shower, slowly dressing in an old sweatshirt of Tom’s and some gym shorts. When there’s a knock at the door, you meander at the clock. 11:34. Smiling to yourself, you walk towards the door, opening it to Harrison in sweats and a loose fitted tee. He dips inside, softly closing the door behind him to not alert anyone of the intrusion, “Hey there pretty girl.” You giggle, arms bound round his waist as his hands cup your cheeks, warm, soft lips falling over yours. You smile into the kiss, clutching his t-shirt in your hands. He draws back just slightly, forehead pressed to yours, “I uhh… I know we said we’d wait but I have to divulge… I really want to make love to you.” You swallow thickly, Harrison’s smile widening. He leans down, kissing the skin of your neck, hands skimming up your sides under your sweatshirt. You can feel your belabored heartbeat in every part of your body, breathing growing erratic as the tip of his tongue traces a line up the goosebumped flesh of your warm, sweet smelling neck, “The way you looked in that dress… godly. I want every fiber of you bare to me. I want all of you.” He draws back, his eyes dark in the dim light of a tiny bar lamp on your bedside table. He reaches up with one hand to run his thumb across your supple bottom lip, his other hand rested on the scolding skin of your hip, ring on his middle finger like drinking ice whilst eating mint gum. It hardens your nipples and your hearing is fading as he poses the inquiring statement, “If you’ll have me.” You brain is on overdrive, wanting nothing more than to agree. You’re ready now that you’re both here. You want him. He wants you. It’s perfect. But it breaks your heart a little bit to know he has to leave right after. He can’t stay. No matter how much you want him to. You find yourself nodding and almost instantly, his hands are skirting up under the sweatshirt on you to cup your bare breasts. He cradles the supple flesh in his hands as he leans in again to kiss you, “I’m so in love with you.” He mutters, backing you against the bed, your knees buckling as they connect with the foot of your mattress. You tumble onto it, Harrison gently lowering himself over you. He hums, kissing the underside of your jaw. When your back arches, he crumples the gray material covering your body to your ribs, leaning in to kiss the skin around your naval. Your arms are held above your head, buried beneath your pillow and your body is scorching as Harrison’s hands and lips travel across it. “Harrison-” You manage to gasp out as his hands run up either of your sides, the mounds of your breasts revealed to him. He sits up completely straight, “What is it sweet thing?” Your eyes meet and you can’t stop the words that are bubbling up. The filter for your mouth is gone and the milliseconds that fly by for those words to get to your mouth from your brain are just a flash before you say it, “I love you.” Your heart stops for just a moment, but you roll with it, head swimming in everything you can say to him in this moment. “I’ve loved you since we were kids.” You gasp out again, Harrison hovering over you. Your hand caresses his arm and he swears he sees the unshed tears glistening in your eyes as his own hand slides your knee up to his hip. You watch his Adam’s apple bob before his lips part and he speaks up, “Me too Y/N. I’ve always loved you.”

Permanent Tags: @embrace-themagic @delicioustommy @spiderman-n @winters-beauty @smexylemony @lolabean1998 @musiclover1263

Series Tags: @h-natale @yourmum95 @giuls-394 @tomhollandthing @justkeepdreaminganddreaming

[kinktae]

camellia || pt. 2 (M)

Y/N is a strong-willed herbalist who knows exactly what she wants; she also happens to make some really good tea. Taehyung is a kind but rebellious prince who doesn’t really know what he wants but he knows that the commoner girl who makes fantastic tea can’t be this damn cute.

pairing: prince!taehyung x herbalist!reader

word count: 10k

genre: fluff, smut, prince au

warnings: the smut scene was meant to be a cute one but somehow it turned filthy and I accidentally made Tae into a raging dom oops

A/N: Header created by me! Inspired by one of my favorite animes ever: Snow White with the Red Hair. 

CHAPTERS: 01 | 02

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PART TWO 

Prince Taehyung was never a tea person. So imagine the castle staff's surprise when he began to request homemade tea every night from to room.

You remembered the first time a maid came and found you about the prince's request for your tea. You nodded politely back at her, but couldn't help the smile that crept onto your face.

Even when you arrived at the prince's door, tray in hand, your smile still didn't let up.

Night after night you made Taehyung tea, sitting at the foot of his bed as he always managed to convince you to stay and chat for a while. Taehyung spoke to you about anything and everything; he liked the way you spoke bluntly and didn't shrink yourself around him. Even when the tea was gone and the initial conversation had died, he'd find new things to talk about, no matter how unimportant, just because he liked the sound of your voice.

“What?” You asked one night, noticing that Taehyung had been staring at you for the past few minutes.

“Nothing. I just really like hearing you talk is all.” Taehyung confessed softly, causing you to glance down at your empty teacup, unable to meet his sincere eyes.

It was the small conversations like that one that would linger on your mind as you made your way down the castle halls, a soft tune falling from your lips.

You were grateful for your friendship with the prince; you had been at the castle for two months now and had yet to make many friends if any at all. 

Taehyung had been the one to encourage you as you took the palace pharmacist entrance exam, which would ensure your spot in the castle. You passed with flying colors, and soon enough you found yourself in the position of court herbalist, a title held by only two other people in the palace, both of which you enjoyed working beside, even if neither was near your age.

Every day you worked diligently, spending hours in the greenhouse, notebook in hand as you took notice of any plants that weren't thriving or growing at expected rates. While it wasn't quite the herbal medicine you wanted to practice, you were grateful for whatever work you could get, as measuring stem diameter was still far more of interest to you than stitching up open wounds.

Although not surprised, your father wasn't entirely thrilled that you had taken up an herbalist position over a medicine one, so you had made it a point to do everything you did with enthusiasm with hopes that you could make him proud nevertheless.

"Have you seen the royal tea girl walking around lately?"

An unfamiliar voice swept out in front of you, the words catching you off guard as you halted your steps. Your eyebrows furrowed as you took silent steps forward, peering cautiously around the corner.

"Oh, poor thing, she's filthy."

Your stomach dropped as you watched a group of four women standing in a semi-circle, talking amongst themselves. You hadn’t seen them before, their faces albeit beautiful were unfamiliar. It was clear from their attire that they were noblewoman of some sort.

"Seriously, what does she do all day? Roll around in dirt?" A woman of golden hair scoffed, her curls bouncing slightly as she shook her head lightly.

"I could never imagine having to crawl through dirt all day. I know she's a commoner but has she really no shame as to parade around like that? I wouldn't be caught dead walking amongst royals with soil on my face!" Another spoke, her tan complexion complimenting the white of her teeth.

A round of cruel laugh fell over the group.

You should turn around. You should stop listening and turn around.

You placed a hand against the wall you were hiding against, fingers falling on top of the gold molding that decorated the inside of the palace walls.

"She's lucky her father is the head doctor. It’s the only reason she’s here, you know. She would've been thrown out the moment she started tracking dirt into the castle with those horrid boots of hers if it weren’t for him." The blonde spoke again through a laugh.

Taking a step back, you pulled your eyes away from the women. Your face burned and insides churned as you began to walk away.

You had never overheard anyone speak so ill of you so freely like that before. Is that what everyone at the castle thought of you? That you were nothing more than some dirt covered royal tea girl?

"Y/N?"

A voice called out from behind you, causing you to turn around mid-step.

"Fancy seeing you here." Taehyung grinned, having had just emerged from a room you had passed by.

"Oh, your highness. Forgive me, I didn't see you." You breathed out, not expecting to see the prince now of all people.

"Tae." He corrected.

You glanced around to make sure that the two of you were alone, "Sorry. Tae."

"Are you okay?" Taehyung frowned at your flustered state.

"Yes, why do you ask?"

"You're shaking."

You blinked at his words, swallowing dryly. He was right; your anxiety was off the charts. Did Taehyung think of you in the way those women spoke about you? You could hardly think clearly, all you knew was that you wanted to get as far away from everyone as soon as possible.

"I just..." You began, crossing your arms over your chest. "I overheard something I shouldn't have."

At your words, Taehyung's face fell, a glimmer of concern gracing his warm eyes. Immediately, regret flooded you. You shouldn't bother him with something as trivial as some women not liking you. The prince had far more pressing issues to worry about, you were sure.

"Actually, nevermind. I don't want to bother you. It's really not that important–"

"Y/N." Taehyung cut you off pointedly. "You can talk to me."

You pressed your lips together, eyes flickering away from his worried ones.

"There were some women talking amongst them themselves about me. How my clothes are always dirty–"

"You work with plants. You're an herbalist." Taehyung defended, an angry look on his face.

You let out a sigh, "Only because my father is the head doctor."

Taehyung blinked at you, obviously bewilderedly.

"What?"

"They said the only reason I'm here is because of my father. And honestly, Tae, they're right." You continued, voice breaking slightly as you spoke, your emotions catching up with you.

"What? Come on, you know that's not true." The prince reasoned causing you to shake your head.

"It is true!" You exclaimed, eyes watering.

"I don't belong here! I mean, I've always known that. I'm not poised or refined, not to mention I've been here for two months and every guard still looks at me as if I'm some threat to the crown. Even the cooking staff, every time I walk into the kitchen they look at me like I'm some peasant girl who is going to steal silverware or something!"

Tears fell freely down your cheeks but you couldn't stop your upset rambling

"And it's not like I'm doing anything useful here? I take inventory of plants. That's all I do! That's not helping anyone like I want to. The best thing I contribute to this castle is making stupid god damn tea."

At the sound of a broken sob leaving your lips, Taehyung pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around you.

You hardly had time to be embarrassed at his gesture as you buried your face into his chest. You weren't expecting this wave of emotions, but as Taehyung held you, you felt an overwhelming amount of catharsis fall over you.

You weren't a vulnerable person by any means, you'd rather internalize any insecurities you faced and deal with them privately. So to voice them out loud Taehyung had you feeling outrageously fragile.

Taehyung's hands wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you back. He ran a thumb over a wet cheek, beckoning you to meet his eyes.

"Even if your father got you here, it's you and your knowledge that passed that entrance exam and kept you here. Not him."

You opened your mouth to respond but the prince shushed you.

"I'm sorry the staff hasn't been kind to you. We haven't seen a new face in the palace in years, as you can probably tell by the lack of people our age. They're wary of you, and I'm sorry if they aren't treating you fairly." Taehyung took a breath as if trying to compose his thoughts.

"As for those women, were they staff or were they of nobility?"

You sniffed lightly, "Nobility. Or at least, they were dressed as if they were."

Taehyung scrunched up his nose in distaste, causing your curiosity to pique.

"Countesses." He scowled. "Some of them wives of Earls of neighboring kingdoms. Some of them of Counts. All of them wretched."

Your eyes widened at Taehyung's openly verbal disdain for the countesses. You suppose seeing as he outranked them, he could speak freely against them.

"They come to stay every once and a while. It's meant to encourage friendly relations between kingdoms but if you ask me they just come to pretend that they're more important than they actually are." Taehyung admitted causing a small giggle to escape your lips.

Taehyung stared at you fondly for a moment before speaking again.

"They gossip because they're bored and have nothing better to do. You are more than worthy of a to be here. Certainly more worthy than they are. Being born into nobility doesn't warrant significance. It's what you do with your nobility that matters. Otherwise, your title is meaningless."

For a moment, the two of you stared at each other, once again hit with the realization that despite everything that differentiated the two of you, at the end of the day, you were both more alike then you were different.

A smirk crept up onto the prince’s mouth.

“Are you busy? Would you want to go back to your village with me?”

You paused for a moment, staring back at the prince confusedly.

"Wha– Do you mean right now?" You blinked.

Taehyung nodded back at you enthusiastically.

"If you haven't anything else today, of course. I haven't spent much time there if I'm honest. Who better to give me a tour than someone who actually knows the area and the people? It's time to do something with my title. And I'd love it if you helped me."

Taehyung's words were so sincere and earnest that you found yourself growing warm under his excited stare.

"Of course, I'll help you. I'm done for the day, I just need to change into some clean clothes–"

"Great! I'll meet you at the stables in fifteen minutes?" He asked, sounding hurried.

You grinned, "Alright, see you then."

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It was on your ride back to your village, after Taehyung had lead Yeontan through a hidden path away from the castle that the prince finally confessed that he was meant to be attending a meeting later today. You were quick to scold him in light of his confession but couldn't argue with his defense that going out to see if he could help his people was a good alternative for the routine meeting the heads of royalty and staff usually had.

Unsurprisingly, traveling by horse still hadn't become easier since your first time on Yeontan two months ago. You held on as steadily as you could without hurting the horse or the prince, but you couldn't help but let out a small noise of fear every time Yeontan sped up to a canter, your body bouncing in rhythm to his movements.

Even as you reached your hometown, having had finally stopped at the local stables, with both feet on the ground, you still found yourself weak in the knees.

Taehyung had just finished speaking to the stableman about arranging Yeontan to stay here for the day as a royal horse would draw too much attention anywhere else and headed over to where you stood leaning against the wooden fence, looking weary.

"Why the long face?" He joked as he reached you, causing you to roll your eyes.

"Horse joke. Funny." You mused dryly as you retied your cloak tighter around your neck.

The prince gave you a cheeky grin as he reached for his own cloak, mimicking your actions.

"You really don't like riding horses, do you?"

"It's not my favorite activity." You admitted, beginning to lead the dark haired man into town.

"Really? I would've never guessed by your petrified squeals mid-ride and inability to stand immediately after." Taehyung smirked as he walked beside you.

You shoved your shoulder into his lightly causing him to laugh.

"You know, I could teach you how to ride if you'd like." He offered, causing you to turn to face him.

"Really? Wait... Are you sure that's a good idea?" You contemplated, flashing Taehyung a skeptical look.

He shrugged, "The reason you're scared of falling is a lack of trust in the horse and a lack of trust in yourself. Learning how to ride should help with that."

You let out a hum, stepping over a tree branch that was laid out in front of your path.

"I mean, yes. I'd love to at least try! Only if it isn't a bother, of course."

"Sure. I've got plenty of time to spare. It's not like I do much as prince anyway." Taehyung reminded you, somewhat bitterly.

You offered him a sympathetic smile, "That all changes today."

Taehyung and you were taking a more discrete way into the village. As a little girl, you used to take this path often, as it offered a more scenic route back home. You were a fan of nature from the start after all.

"I hear people." Taehyung said after a while, the two of you having had been walking in comfortable silence.

You could hear the excited chatter of your village's people from not too far ahead. And as the two of you walked out onto the pavement of the town you once called home, you couldn't help but smile.

"They're preparing for the summer festival!" You told Taehyung excitedly, eyes running over the busying bodies.

Women and men alike all brushed past one another, arms carrying brightly colors fabrics and other miscellaneous decorations. Children marched behind their parents happily, hands swinging at their sides in time to whatever song laid in their heads.

Taehyung said nothing, eyes wide as he took in the busy market and its people, trailing behind you as you walked.

You were headed toward your family’s old pharmacy. Back when both your family worked there, it served as both a clinic and pharmacy; your mother mainly in charge of pharmacy while your father also worked part-time treating injuries. When your mother passed away, your father reached out your family friend, Dhruv, to help out, along with putting you to work. With both you and your father now working at the castle, the pharmacy had fallen ownership to Dhruv and his family.

“It isn’t that much longer until we reach–”

You turned to speak to Taehyung, only to realize he wasn’t beside you.

You halted your steps, turning around in alarm, lifting up onto your toes to search for the prince’s dark locks.

Your eyes flickered back in forth in panic before they locked onto Taehyung’s concerned ones, standing a few feet back. You opened your mouth to call his name out in relief, but stopped yourself, realizing that even if no one knew what the prince looked like, screaming out his name in the middle of a busy market still probably wasn’t the smartest of ideas.

“Thought I lost you there for a second.” You sighed once Taehyung was in earshot.

“Sorry! I got distracted by everything that’s going on.” He apologized with a lopsided grin as he finally reached you.

You rolled your eyes, a small smirk on your lips, “Gosh, you’re like an excited little kid. You’d better shape up or I’ll make you hold my hand.”

At your words, Taehyung’s eyes widened in surprise, “Hold your hand?”

Immediately, you realized how what you had just said could be misconstrued. You let out a nervous laugh, arms waving in front of you dismissively.

"N-Not in a romantic sense, of course! I just meant so you wouldn't keep falling behind. It’s what mothers do with children that wander! I– Sorry, that was a really stupid joke, just pretend like I didn't say anything–"

Your rambling was cut off by the feeling of Taehyung's large hand intertwining with yours, leaving you speechless.

“I don’t mind if you don’t." He grinned lopsidedly, squeezing his warm hand around yours.

A small noise of agreement left your throat as you turned away from the prince's twinkling eyes. Your face burned and your heart raced. He had taken it so easily, it threw you entirely off guard, and just to occupy your muddled mind, you began to point out the different shops and sellers of the market. Taehyung listened and responded attentively, for which you were grateful. Anything to keep his mind off how clammy your hand was with his holding it.

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“Dhruv!” You exclaimed excitedly as you stepped into the pharmacy, hand slipping from Taehyung’s.

The familiar man perked up at the sound of your voice, eyes widening in surprise as he took you in.

“Hey, look who came back!” Dhruv mused to himself, slipping out from behind the counter to wrap you up in a hug.

For the two years you lived in the village without your father, Dhruv had served as a father figure to you, helping you adjust to life on your own, not to mention helping you with boy troubles when your father couldn’t.

Taehyung watched in curiosity, leaning back against a wall by the pharmacy front door.

“You back for good?” Dhruv asked as the two of you pulled apart, causing you to laugh.

“Not quite. I came back to buy some seeds.”

The man and you continued to talk as he made his way back behind the counter, taking your order as he asked you questions about your new castle life.

“And who is Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome that you came in with?” Dhruv asked you, eyes flickering behind you. You looked over your shoulder to see Taehyung looking slightly out of place as if he wasn’t sure what to do.

“Come over here.” You beckoned him through a laugh.

Taehyung flashed you a sheepish look, moving to walk over to you.

“Forgive me, I didn’t want to interrupt the reunion.” He apologized, offering a charming smile.

“Nonsense! I’m tired of Y/N’s old face anyway, new faces are much more exciting.” Dhruv chuckled causing you to let out an offended laugh.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m… Tae.” The prince introduced after slight deliberation. Dhruv made no reaction towards the nickname, clearly not connecting the stranger Tae as the prince Taehyung.

“Dhruv.” The pharmacist greeted.

Dhruv turned towards you, “Well, I’d offer you some of your favorite tea like we used to have every morning but I’m afraid there’s been a bit of a water shortage throughout the village lately.”

At his words, both you and Taehyung perked up in interest.

“Water shortage? We’ve never had a water shortage before have we?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Oh, it’s been a while since the last one. Been about a month now.”  The man sighed.

You could feel Taehyung physically tense at his words.

“Ah, no worries though. We just gotta get through the summer and things should go back to normal I think. Why don’t I run back and get you those seeds you asked for. On the house, of course.”

You let out a noise in surprise, “Oh please, Dhruv, no. Let me pay you–”

“Hush. You’re like family to me at this point. Besides I’m already moving so you can’t fight it.” The man mused, slipping into the back of the store with a wave.

“That man, I swear.” You shook your head with a huff.

“Twenty four.” Taehyung muttered to himself, causing you to look over at him.

“Pardon?”

Taehyung met your eyes, a small frown on his lips.

“If my family knew about this I would’ve heard about the water shortage by now. We have twenty-four fountains at the palace that spew water 24/7. I’ve been doing nothing while a whole village of my people has been going on thirsty. We don’t need that water, they do…” Taehyung gesturing towards where Dhruv had disappeared.

Taking in Taehyung’s bothered expression, you placed a hand onto his cheek as you offered him a sympathetic look in an effort to comfort him.

“That’s not your fault and you know it’s not. If the royal family didn’t know then there was no way you could have known.” You cooed softly.

Taehyung’s eyes met yours gently as he placed his hand over yours gratefully.

“Here we are!” Dhruv reemerged from the storage room, causing Taehyung and you to jump apart.

Taehyung’s face red and your voice shaking from being caught in such an intimate gesture, you accepted the seeds from Dhruv, thanking him profusely after he once again refused your money.

The three of you made small talk for a few minutes before Dhruv walked over towards another customer that had walked in. For a moment, Taehyung and you stood in front of the counter silently, as you looked down at what you were just given.

At the feeling of eyes aimed in his direction, Taehyung looked over to the pharmacy’s window only to see a man standing outside it, eyeing Y/N unabashedly.

"Y/N," Taehyung began lowly, causing you to look up at him, "there is a man staring at you from outside as if he's seen a ghost."

You turn towards the window in confusion, only to see the familiar face of your former lover.

"Oh shit." You breathed, looking away quickly.

"Who is he?" Taehyung pondered.

"My ex-boyfriend."

The chime of the door opening caused you to curse as it meant he had entered to greet you.

“Y/N!” The familiar voice called out, causing you to look up and greet the young man with a sheepish smile.

“Jungkook! How are you?” You greeted back, walking over to him.

Taehyung stayed leaning against the counter, eyeing the man called Jungkook skeptically, even more so when he wrapped his arms around you.

“I haven’t seen you in forever. I heard you’re living at the castle now?” Jungkook said as he broke the embrace.

“I am.” You nodded politely.

“I had to find out through Dhruv, you know. I came over here one day and he said you left.”

You flinched at his words, knowing that he would bring that up, “Ah, well. It all happened so suddenly. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.”

In all honesty, you had made it a point not to tell Jungkook goodbye. Although the break up was somewhat clean, it was quite apparent that Jungkook still harbored feelings for you as he never left you alone. You wanted to avoid the dramatic reaction from him to the news of you leaving to live at the castle.

“So you’re working for your father then? That’s fantastic.” He enthused.

“Oh, well, no.” You told him.

“Oh? What, did you not cut it out as a nurse?” Jungkook joked, causing you to frown slightly.

There wasn’t anything wrong with Jungkook really. You broke up with him simply because you realized you really didn’t harbor any romantic feelings towards him. His constant dismissal in your interest for herbology certainly did help with the breakup, however. He, like your father, always tried to encourage you into going into medicine, despite your constant reminders that you much rather study herbalism rather than anatomy.

“No, actually, I have no interest in becoming a nurse. I work as a court herbalist.” You corrected him politely albeit with a slight edge to your tone.

Having had sensed some tension between your and Jungkook’s interaction, Taehyung made his way over to you.

You jumped slightly as a hand intertwined itself with yours, but you relaxed as you realized it was just Taehyung.

“Hello. I don’t believe we’ve met.” Taehyung interjected boldly, causing Jungkook’s expression to harden slightly.

“No, I don’t believe we have.” Jungkook replied dryly, eyes flickering towards your intertwined hands momentarily.

“I’m Tae.”

“Jungkook.” The younger man nodded back. "Are you two–"

"Together? Yes." Taehyung cut Jungkook off, flashing him a smile that didn't meet his eyes.

"Oh," Jungkook responded, noticeably uncomfortable, "do you live at the palace, too?"

Taehyung nodded easily, "I do."

"Ah, so that's how you two met then. Are you an… herbalist as well?"

You turned to look at Taehyung, also curious as to what he might reply.

Taehyung held your eyes for a split second before turning back to Jungkook.

"I work under the prince actually." He lied smoothly.

"Damn. I couldn't imagine waiting on someone's beck and call. Much less some stuck-up prince."

"Oh yeah, it's awful. He's a real asshole." Taehyung mused, causing you to snort.

Taehyung and you shared a knowing look, finding humor in the entire situation.

Jungkook nodded as if he figured as much before offering Taehyung a tight-lipped smile.

"Well, I'm sure Y/N is trying to show you all around the village so I won't keep you both any longer." Jungkook cleared his throat. "It was good to see you again, Y/N."

"Likewise." You told him with a small smile.

Jungkook turned towards Taehyung and after an awkward beat of silence, offered him a polite nod before slipping out of the pharmacy.

Taehyung's eyes narrowed immediately, "I don't like him."

You let out a laugh.

"Jungkook is harmless. Kind of insufferable, but mainly harmless."

"Any chance you have some sort of natural laxative on you that'll make him shit himself for days that we can offer him before we head back?"

"Sorry to disappoint, but I don't make it a habit to carry poisons around with me." You rolled your eyes, a grin present.

"Shame." Taehyung teased, brushing his shoulder into yours jokingly.

Consequently, the prince’s eyes fall onto his hand, and his cheeks pinked as he realized he was still holding your hand. He let go immediately.

"Sorry." He apologized, clearing his throat awkwardly.

Holding your hand felt oddly natural and up until now, he had forgotten entirely that your hand was in his.

To his surprise, you bit down onto your lip, moving to take his hand into yours.

"Don't be. After all, we’re together, remember?” You teased, referring to how Taehyung had lied about you and him being a couple to ward off Jungkook. “I have a feeling we're going to have to use that cover more than once today."

Taehyung felt a weird feeling of elation run through him. He liked the idea that he could hold your hand freely, if only for today.

Instead of expressing that, however, he raised an eyebrow up dramatically.

"How many exes do you have?" He accused, jokingly.

You rolled your eyes.

"That’s not what I meant. Couples attract less attention, you know. Public displays of affection make people uncomfortable. You saw how Jungkook quickly left after he saw us holding hands." You told him.

"Hmm. I suppose you have a point." He offered, before throwing you a skeptical glare. "You still didn't answer my question."

You gave him a pointed look, despite the fact that the sides of your mouth tugged upwards.

"Come on." You sang, tugging your boyfriend for the day out the door.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

The sun had just begun to set on your small town; just as well as you and Taehyung had grown tired from your afternoon adventure. You had taken him everywhere you thought he might enjoy: the springs, the farmhouse, the local theatre, your old house. And as the two of you walked down the cobbled stone of the now significantly less crowded market, you reminisced on your day and planned your next journey.

“We could go to Tanbarun next!” Taehyung offered excitedly. “There’s an elderly lady who always offers me bread and milk whenever she sees me.”

“I’ve never been to Tanbarun.” You confessed, excited at the prospect of traveling out of your small village.

To your surprise, Taehyung grabbed your hand and spun you around, causing you to let out an elated giggle.

“They’ve got the best gardens, Y/N. I can’t wait for you to see them, you’ll drool all over yourself.” The prince teased, clearly in a playful mood.

You rolled your eyes at what he was suggesting.

“While the thought of new plants and flowers excite me, I will not be drooling.” You defended, as you walked past two men that were headed in the opposite direction of you and Taehyung.

“...royal guard.”

The words flew past your ears so fleetingly that you almost swore you had imagined it, but you turned towards the conversing men that had walked past you regardless.

“What’s wrong?” Taehyung’s voice rang out from behind you, confused as to why you had turned around.

“I think they said something about seeing a royal guard?” You told him, eyeing the backs of the men as they walked.

“What?” Taehyung’s turned back at the direction the men had come from.

“Shit.”

You didn’t even have the chance to turn around to see what the prince was referring to when his hand found yours and he began to tug you forward, back down the way you had just come from.

“Woah– What’s happened?” You exclaimed, causing Taehyung to sent you a panicked ‘We have to go.’

You struggled to keep up with his pace and didn’t even register the sound of horse feet trailing somewhere behind you.

Glancing over your shoulder, you let out at a gasp at the sight of a royal guard perched upon a white horse, the royal family’s crest printed on the side of the horse rug. The horse trotted forward as the guard’s eyes rolled over the market, clearly haven’t seen Taehyung yet.

The guards were no doubt sent out for him by now, his absence at the meeting serving as proof of his disappearance.

You turned back around, heart pounding. You didn’t want Taehyung to get in trouble; you shouldn’t have agreed to sneak out with him in the first place, the least you could do is help him get back home unnoticed.

“There!” You pointed towards the small alleyway just up ahead to the right of you. If you remembered correctly, there was a dumpster tucked away that you both could hide behind. It wasn’t an ideal situation but it was the only one you could come up with given your circumstances.

You pull Taehyung into the alleyway by the hand and nearly curse again once you saw that the small alleyway was not only a dead end but was empty of anything you could possibly hide behind.

Heart in your throat, you poked your head out to view the main road.

“Dammit, dammit, dammit.” You chanted at the sight of the royal guard only a couple feet away.

You bit down onto your lip.

It was pointless; the guard was going to peer into the alleyway and see Taehyung and you standing here helplessly.

“Y/N, it’s okay. This is my problem, not yours. I’ll tell them I made you go with me.” The prince told you, eyebrows furrowed.

If Taehyung was trying to comfort you, it was pointless as the sound of a horse just seconds away from approaching had all your attention.

Suddenly, an idea entered your mind and before you could think to second guess it, you yanked Taehyung’s hood over his head and pulled him into you, your lips finding his.

Taehyung froze in place, a small noise of surprise erupting from the back of his throat.

You pressed your eyes shut, focusing on what you could hear. At the sound of the guard beside you, you wrapped an arm around his neck, hoping to imitate a couple intertwined in an intimate embrace.

Taehyung placed a hand on your waist, still completely dumbfounded, and at the sound of the guard riding past the two of you, you finally pull away.

Your eyes meet Taehyung’s immediately. They mirrored yours; wide and in disbelief, as if neither of you could believe what you had just done.

“I…I just remembered how public displays of affection make people uncomfortable. Um, my thought process was that if he saw us kissing and couldn’t see who you were then he’d just look away and keep going.” You rambled, voice shaking slightly as what you had done finally hit you. “S-Sorry.”

Taehyung just nodded at you silently, muttering a small thank you as his entire face turned bright red.

The journey back to the castle was a painful one, both unable to take your mind off the unexpected kiss. Awkward attempts of small talk plagued the ride back and you wanted to bury yourself into the ground.

When you finally arrived back at the castle and exchanged your uncomfortable goodbyes, you nearly ran towards your room, burying your face into your pillow as you replayed the moment over and over, crippling embarrassment overtaking you.

And when nighttime finally rolled around and Taehyung requested tea, you sent a maid over in your place, choosing to avoid the very face that was burned etched permanently into your mind.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

A week had passed since you last spoke to the prince. You had managed to avoid him for the most part, still unable to face him after what you had pulled back in the village. You threw yourself into work, the distraction serving as solace for your flustered heart.

It wasn’t until after your kiss did you realize you held feelings for Taehyung. Speaking to him, holding his hand, everything felt natural when you were with him. He made you feel good about yourself and you wanted so deeply for him to feel the same way about himself. You believed in him blindly and you couldn’t even focus on how foolish you were to fall for a prince with the memory of his lips against yours still haunting you.

You let out a frustrated sigh, your footsteps echoing across the corridor as you walked across it.

You were in a terrible mood; word of your excursion with the prince had somehow made it way across the castle, and you had once again overheard those nasty Countesses speaking about you.

“Did you hear what she’s done now?”

“She took Prince Taehyung back to her village on some secret rendezvous.”

“Not just the royal tea girl is she? Now she’s become the prince’s royal bed warmer.”

Their condescending tones lingered on your mind and you grew angrier as time went by. You had walked away before you heard anymore, but the damage was done. You had taken Taehyung out to the village so that he could learn about one of the places in his kingdom so that he could help it. Not that the Countesses would care about that. It didn’t matter what you did, the people of this castle would always look down on you.

A hand wrapping around your wrist pulled you from your thoughts, and you turned around to meet Taehyung’s worried eyes.

He had been on his way to the royal infirmary to speak to your father when he saw you walking. He had called your name multiple times, but the distracted look on your face told him you hadn’t even registered his calls.

He knew you had been avoiding him, no doubt in response to feeling embarrassment over what happened in that alleyway. But a week had passed and he couldn’t go another day without speaking to you. If he had done something to upset you, then he wanted to fix it.

“What?” You snapped, too caught up in your anger to watch your tone.

“Woah… I just wanted to say hello. We haven’t spoken in a week…” Taehyung defended, raising his arms up as if to show he meant no harm. “Is something wrong?”

You let out a breath. You didn’t want to talk to Taehyung if you were being honest. You were too annoyed by what the countesses had said to think about your shared kiss, but it was still frustrating to see the face of the man you liked, knowing he didn’t like you back.

“Nothing.” You huffed, “Just some snarky comment made by the Countesses. Again.”

“What did they say?”

You stared at him for a moment, contemplating whether or not to tell him.

You let out a scoff as you replayed their conversation in your head.

“They assumed I was… They called me your royal bed warmer.” You said with a deep frown, your anger bubbling within you with every word you spoke.

Taehyung’s eyes widened in surprise, “The royal what?”

“Apparently you and I going out to see your kingdom constitutes into me whoring it out for you.” You huffed.

“For nobility, they sure aren't ladylike.” Taehyung joked, hoping to make you laugh. It proved pointless, however, as your sour mood didn't ease up.

“They're so contradictory. They always stress that I’m the royal tea girl, that I'm just some commoner. If that's the case then what business does a prince have sleeping with me?” You exclaimed with a flail of your arms.

“Y/N.” The prince tried.

“I get that they’re in the court but what do they gain from kicking me down? I’m already below them in rank, which is so important to them as it's all they talk about. Bunch of royal bitches!”

“Y/N, relax.” Taehyung laughed, causing you to scowl.

“I am relaxed!” You snapped, crossing your arms over your chest.

Taehyung took a step towards you, eyes fixated on the unrelenting pout you wore.

“Why do you care what they think anyway?” He inquired, his hands pulling at your crossed arms.

Your arms fell to your sides and your eyes widened as Taehyung’s large hands ran down the lengths of your arms before intertwining his hands with yours.

“I-I don’t.” You countered, voice high as his sudden gesture caught you off guard. Your eyes flickered to focus on the wall behind Taehyung, away from the prince’s unwavering stare.

“Really? Kind of sounds like you do.” He teased and you could hear the smirk he wore just by his tone. Your eyes snapped back to meet his.

“Why do you care if I care? You’re meant to be on my side.” You pouted despite knowing how childish you sounded.

Taehyung raised his eyebrows in amusement, dragging a thumb over the top of one of the hands he held.

“Am I?”

“Y-Yes. It’s what friends do.” Your voice felt weak. Having Taehyung this close to you, touching you as if it was something as casual as breathing was laboring your own.

And as if your heart wasn’t struggling enough to pump oxygen throughout your body, it nearly stopped all together the moment Taehyung leaned into you.

Wait... was he going to kiss you?!

A single thump of your heart was the last thing you heard before you pressed your eyes shut, your body shrinking slightly.

“I thought you were just my bed warmer.” Taehyung’s warm voice purred into your ear, causing your eyes to fling open in surprise.

You pulled your hands back from Taehyung’s grip, pressing them against the laughing prince’s chest and you pushed him away from you.

You let out a small noise of disdain, hands clutched against your chest. Your heart ran a mile a minute, and you couldn’t come up with a reply if you wanted to.

“I’m sorry.” Taehyung laughed, clearly amused at your reaction.

You turned your burning face away from the giggling prince, hardly hearing his boisterous laughs through the sound of your heart pounding in your ears.

You thought he was going to kiss you. Of course, he wasn’t going to kiss you. Why would he want to kiss you?

Embarrassment sunk into you as you realized how foolish you were to think that Taehyung might like you like that.

You turned on your heel, quickly walking away from the dark-haired prince.

“Y/N? Woah, I’m sorry. I was just teasing.” You heard Taehyung say, accompanied quickly by footsteps behind you.

“It wasn’t funny.” You deadpanned, continuing forwards, tears forming in your eyes. You heard Taehyung freeze, his footsteps silencing as he stood in place silently, watching you walk away.

As embarrassed as you were, it was the fact that you had wanted Taehyung to kiss you that hurt. It was foolish– you were foolish. Falling for a prince when you were no more than a servant was so incredibly stupid. You didn’t know how you had let it happen, but you knew that you knew better.

You made your way to your room, cheeks wet from your tears. You swiped them away angrily. ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

"Father, do you have any band-aids on you before I go bother the nurses?" You started, slipping into your father's office.

You took a seat on his desk, a habit of yours he didn't appreciate very much.

Your father let out a sigh, looking up from the newspaper he had been reading before you barged into his office.

"White medicine cabinet, third drawer." He told you from his seat, eyeing the area of his desk you were perched upon as if to tell you to get up.

"Thank you!" You sang, hopping down onto your feet.

You were in a great mood today. Your last exchange with Taehyung was two days ago and had left you feeling sad and trapped within the palace, where you could run into him at any moment.

So this morning, you took it upon yourself to travel back into the village, this time to shop and spend time with the people there you cared about. Your mood was instantly lifted, the sun was out and warmed your skin deliciously, and it had really put things into perspective for you.

Everything you were upset about, the kiss, the Countesses, Taehyung, none of that couldn't be overlooked. The kiss would eventually become something you'd look back on and laugh at. The Countesses didn't take away from the fact that you were still at the royal castle studying under brilliant herbalists and you were working in a field you loved.

And as for the heart-wrenching feelings towards the prince that you carried... well, you could at least be grateful for the relationship you had with him, even if it was solely platonic.

Well, being that the two of you were even still friends that is...

Pulling the drawer open, you pulled out a band-aid. As pathetic as it sounded, you had accidentally given yourself a stupidly deep paper cut. Thankfully, you had some anti-bacterial cream on you when it happened, but seeing as you were going to need to use your hands the remainder of the day, you wanted to cover the wound.

As you wrapped it around your finger, you couldn't help but notice that the one medical bed your father's office held was hidden by the privacy curtains that hung around it.

You frowned.

"Why are the curtains drawn together?" You inquired.

As far as you know, the curtains were only used whenever someone was using the bed and being examined. But seeing as your father was sat at his desk reading a newspaper, you were fairly certain that wasn't the case.

"Oh... No reason." Your father told you, his tone entirely unconvincing.

You hummed, holding your father's eyes challengingly.

"Leave it." He warned as if reading your mind.

"Too late, my curiosity has been piqued." You shrugged moving toward the curtain.

"Y/N–"

A pair of panicked eyes met yours as you pulled back the white material of the curtain.

"Tae?" You said out loud, your head tilting in confusion.

"Doc," Taehyung whined, head turning towards your father, "what happened to not letting anyone know I was here?"

The doctor merely shrugged, "Not my fault I have the world's most inquisitive daughter."

"This is a good thing. Y/N told me the two of you are friends, she can keep you company and keep watch as I go and get some dinner." He continued, standing up from his chair.

At your father's words, you cringed slightly. You didn't need Taehyung knowing you spoke about him to your father.

You could feel Taehyung staring at you, and you made it a point not to look at him.

"You don't mind, do you?" Your father asked, causing you to open your mouth to speak, only to shut it again.

Ideally, no you didn't want to be left alone with Taehyung, but you supposed it was about time to make amends with him.

"Of course not."

Your father gave you a grateful nod, "I leave him in your capable hands then."

And with that, Taehyung and you were left alone. Silence ran over you both for few moments before you cleared your throat.

"Why are you hiding in my father's office?" You began, hoping to strike up a conversation.

Taehyung flashed you a guilty look, "There are some people here that my father wants me to meet so I begged your father to let me hide here instead."

"I thought you weren't going to avoid your prince duties?" You teased lightly.

He scrunched up his nose at you.

"More like avoiding my father's poor attempts of matchmaking." Taehyung huffed, causing your heart to pang slightly. You smiled despite it.

“You look nice– Your hair, I mean.” He clarified quickly, in case it made you uncomfortable. Your hair was pulled back into braids and he could see the pretty flowers that had been intertwined into them. You looked beautiful. Your skin looked radiant from a day out in the sun and your lips wore some kind of pink tint he hadn’t seen you wear before.

You offered him a small smile.

“Oh. Thank you. Some girls in the village did it for me.” You explained, rubbing your thumb

Taehyung gave an impressed nod.

“I heard what you did. Getting the king to agree to cut off the water that fed the castle ground fountains and redirecting it to the village, I mean. The villagers told me and they're all very grateful to you.” You continued, biting down onto your lip. Taehyung’s eyes fell to your mouth for just a moment before he looked back up to flash you a smile.

“I would’ve never been able to help them if it weren’t for you.” He told you earnestly and you couldn’t help but return his smile back at him.

Suddenly his smile dropped, a serious expression coming over him.

“I miss you.” He spoke through a blush, catching you off guard.

“Tae–” You began.

“I miss talking to you and spending time with you. I miss you getting all flustered when I tease you and I miss being able to make you laugh. I miss the way you have to take a few moments to recover every time you ride Yeontan because you don’t handle heights well. I miss seeing you covered in dirt almost every time I see you. I miss having you by my side.” Taehyung took a shaky breath, wiping his sweaty palms onto his pants. “Also... I suck at making tea.”

You knew he was being sincere and candid, but his last words took you by surprise and before you knew it you were laughing. Taehyung stared at you cautiously, unsure of what to make of your response.

“I’m... sorry.” You apologized through laughter, feeling bad for laughing at him but god, he was so endearing.

“I really put my feelings out there, you know. You laughing at me is incredibly ego damaging.” Taehyung huffed before a chuckle of his own broke through his lips.

And for a lovely moment, the two of you stood together laughing, the happy atmosphere almost tangible.

“I missed you too.” You told him shyly causing Taehyung’s heart to skip a beat.

Taehyung grinned, “Any chance you know of a ‘Thank god we're friends again' tea that you’d be willing to share with me tonight?”

You stared at the prince for a moment. The way he smiled up at you from his seat took your breath away still, just like it always did. His smile felt like the summer and it warmed you from head to toe.

You let yourself bask in it for a few seconds longer before grinning mischievously at him.

“It just so happens I do.”

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

"Of all the tea's you've made me, this has to be my favorite." Taehyung told you, taking another sip from his cup before grimacing slightly.

You laughed at his gesture, contrasting with his words. You felt slightly tipsy, a consequence of the alcohol you had mixed in with the chamomile tea.

"I'm serious!" He defended causing you to roll your eyes.

"Mixing the alcohol with tea was kind of a spur of the moment decision. Just say you hate it like I do."

“Hey, I happen to like gin. It tastes like Christmas trees.” Taehyung grinned. You raised an eyebrow, laughing softly.

“Have you eaten a Christmas tree before?” You inquired, grabbing both of your teacups off the bed and placing it onto the tea tray you had placed on Taehyung’s nightstand. You weren't going to force him to drink any more of the atrocious concoction, you decide as you grab the bottle of gin you had brought with you. You handed him the bottle.

“No.” He shrugged, taking a swig of gin. He handed you back the bottle eagerly, bringing a hand to wipe at his mouth.

You took your own sip, grimacing slightly as the alcohol made it’s way down your throat.

The familiar feeling of Taehyung's stare burning against your skin washed over you.

"You're doing that thing again."

"What thing?" He blinked at you.

"The thing where you stare at me wordlessly." You reminded him.

Taehyung shrugged, "I like looking at you. Looking at you is like looking at everything that is good and right in the world."

"Wha– Are you drunk?" You laughed, taken aback at his words.

"Getting there." He confessed through a cheesy smile.

It was strange. How on paper an irresponsible prince and a headstrong herbalist seemed like an odd match, but sat on Taehyung's bed, exchanging gin induced laughter, it all seemed to make perfect sense to you.

“Mm,” Taehyung said suddenly, a hand resting on his cheek.

“Everything okay?” You asked, blinking curiously.

“I'm warm.” He said.

You frowned, “Bad warm?”

"No. Drunk warm."

"Oh, yes! Gin will make you warm.” You nodded. “Tea, too!”

You had reached the point where conversations hardly held anything of substance, not that either minded.

“Are you warm?” Taehyung inquired out loud, almost as if to himself.

Before you could think to respond, one of his hands found your face, his palm cupping your cheek.

“You feel hot, Y/N.” Taehyung exclaimed with wide eyes.

Your heart skipped a beat, as your feelings for Taehyung suddenly hit you once again. Your eyes fell to the bed you both sat on, his large hand caressing your cheek not helping you out temperature wise.

“You were warm that day, too.” Taehyung hummed, causing you to look up at him in confusion.

“Huh?” You responded intelligently, unable to think past the feeling of his thumb stroking your cheek.

“The day you kissed me. You were warm that day too.”

All words left your throat. Your heart was beating so loudly that you feared Taehyung might be able to hear it if he listened closely enough.

And to your surprise, Taehyung leaned into you, before pausing in front of your face, embarrassingly close. The hand that was once on your cheek fell down to your neck loosely as he moved.

“Tae?” You questioned. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol or Taehyung’s proximity but you felt dizzy and flushed.

No response came from the prince as his mouth found yours, the soft warm flesh of his lips stilling you.

You placed a hand against Taehyung's thigh, holding onto the limb to steady you.

"Sorry." He apologized as his mouth broke away from yours, only to kiss you again.

A small noise left the back of your throat in response, reeling in the feeling. But before you could think to deepen the kiss, Taehyung pulled away.

“I miss you. But I don't miss being just friends. Fuck, it isn’t enough anymore.” He breathed. Leaning over, he pressed an opened mouth kiss onto your neck.

You let out a gasp, hands reaching out to grip onto the sides of his shirt.

His mouth was gentle, showering your exposed flesh with adoring kisses.

There was so much you wanted to say, yet you struggled to formulate a single word as he pressed his hot tongue against your neck.

Taehyung could hear your pounding heart against his mouth and the small whine you let out only spurred him on more.

“Hot.” Was all you could muster up as a response. Taehyung pulled away from your neck in confusion.

“Y-Your tongue, I mean. It’s hot.” You muttered embarrassedly, not meaning to cause Taehyung to stop.

“Bad hot?” Taehyung said with a tilt of his head, mimicking the question you had asked him just a few minutes ago.

You shook your head ‘no’ rapidly, eager to fix the mistake you had made. Your reservations lowered by the alcohol in your system and with the memory of Taehyung’s tongue spurring you on, you pressed your mouth to the prince’s.

Taehyung was quick to push you back onto the length of his bed, situating himself in between your legs.

His tongue found yours finally and you almost moaned at the feeling. It moved against yours sinfully and you knew you were ruined, wrapping your legs around his hips, inviting him to roll them into you.

“Wait, wait,” Taehyung said through a heavy breath, having had broken the kiss. You frowned at his words, choosing instead to run your fingers through his dark hair that you liked so much and bring his mouth back onto yours.

Taehyung let out a growl, hand finding your jaw as he gave in to your desires and kissed you the way you wanted him to. His teeth had found purchase onto your swollen bottom lip when he pulled away once more.

You let out a whine. You didn't mean to be this needy but you couldn't help it now that the two of you had gotten this far. You lifted your head to kiss him once again, but this time Taehyung lifted entirely off you, sitting back on his heels, your legs on either side of him.

“No, baby, this isn’t how I want to have you. I don’t want to fuck you in some drunken spur of the moment thing.” He shook his head as if to clear it.

You couldn’t help but pout at his words.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He sighed.

“Like what?” You sulked.

“Like I’m some sort of monster for denying you sex.”

You tut your tongue, “‘It’s ‘cause you are.”

And then Taehyung leaned over and kissed you, not because he intended to fuck you, but because you were so damn cute that he would lose his damn mind if he didn’t.

You took advantage of his moment of weakness, wrapping an arm around him to pull him into you so you could deepen the kiss.

Taehyung let out a dark chuckle at your feeble attempts to seduce him. He broke the kiss, his hand coming up to fiddle with the button of your blouse.

"Hmm,” he hummed lowly, “you’re desperate for my cock, aren’t you?”

It was as if some sort of switch had been flipped, the usually light-hearted prince's aura suddenly grown dominant and commanding.

You let out a small groan at his words, taken aback by how much your body had reacted to his words.

Taehyung didn’t miss your reaction, however, his eyes darkening as they peered down at you through his dark bangs.

“Take your shirt off.” He demanded, his tone authoritative.

You complied quickly, your underwear dampening embarrassingly at his shift in mood.

At the sight of your pretty white bra, Taehyung visibly shifted, his cock growing increasingly uncomfortable tucked away in his clothes.

“So fucking beautiful.” He sighed, voice low and smooth, fingertips trailing down the outer side of one of your thighs.

“Please touch me.” You whimpered, causing Taehyung’s eyes to snap back onto your face, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“Who knew my pretty little girl was such a pretty little slut?”

“Tae…” You protested, unable to meet his eyes for any longer.

“I know, baby. I know.” He cooed, as his leaned over and pulled your bra up over your breasts.

A soft noise slipped through your lips as his wrapped his around your soft bud, his hot tongue taking its time to torture it. His other hand found your other breast, thumb rolling over the nipple in a pattern at mimicked his tongue.

Unable to hold back for any longer, you rolled your hips up to his, and to your utter relief, he met your motions, his hard cock pressing against your drenched center deliciously.

“Oh, fuck.” You purred as he rutted himself against your panty clad clit, causing you to grip onto his back, trying desperately not to dig your nails into him.

Your nipple was released with a soft ‘pop’ and before you could register what had happened, Taehyung ran his hot tongue along the side of your neck.

“Wanna fuck you so bad. Fuck, I bet you feel amazing.”

“P-Please.” You begged, a low whine emerging from the base of your throat, your hips still meeting every rut of Taehyung’s desperately. It was bliss but it was momentary and all you could think about was what it would feel like to have his hot, thick cock sinking into you and rocking into you with the same ardor he held now.

Taehyung took the skin of your neck between his teeth, letting out a noise of disapproval.

“Oh, you’re not getting my cock, baby. No matter how much you need and beg for it.”

Your eyes widened. He wasn’t going to fuck you?

God, you could burst into tears right now. He had you so wound up and you couldn't even fathom not getting the release you so desperately needed.

“Spread your legs for me.” Taehyung said, pressing a final kiss against the base your neck.

Face warm, you complied, pulling your legs apart.

You could feel the fabric that was slick with your arousal move against your most intimate area slightly as you moved, and you bit down onto your bottom lip from letting out an embarrassing noise.

Taehyung was quick to move, running two fingers down the length of your inner thigh.

You flinched as he ran his fingers across the wet fabric of your panties, pressing into the fabric in a way that had you bucking your hips up.

"Fuck, no teasing." You cried, pressing your eyes shut as his thumb found your aching clit.

His mouth had once again found your breast as if he wasn't able to get enough of you.

And when he finally slipped his hand into your panties, you couldn't stop the whimper that rolled off your tongue.

His long digits toyed with your wet center, his middle finger teasing your entrance.

"You're fucking soaked. You need my fingers fucking into you? Don’t you?"

He was cruel. Even if he wasn't going fuck you like you wanted, he wanted to hear you beg for him. He liked the idea that you were dependent on him, that he was the only one who could give you what you wanted.

"Yes, god, yes I need your fingers!" You cried out, unable to register your embarrassment thanks to the feeling of Taehyung's long finger sinking into you.

Your hips moved on their own according, meeting Taehyung's motions messily.

You had assumed Taehyung was well versed when it came to affairs of the sexual kind. He was constantly escaping into the arms of his kingdom, there had to be more than a couple of instances where those arms became more than just figurative ones. So for him to be seen in his element during this kind of activity didn’t surprise you.

But this was ridiculous; he read your body like a damn book, rolling his fingers deep and hard into you only to pull back when you grew too close to your release.

High pitched whines and profanities left your mouth and you could feel your sanity slipping away as Taehyung edged you mercilessly.

Every time you opened your mouth to protest, he silenced you with his own mouth, kissing you hotly and nulling your thoughts.

His thumb rolled over your clit, the sensation nearly pushing you to the edge, but once again, he pulled away just before you could cum.

"Tae, please. No more. I can't– I need to cum." You sobbed, thighs and voice trembling.

Taehyung pressed a kiss down on your chest, enjoying the obscene sounds that came from where he was finger fucking you.

His eyes met you teary ones, "Hmm, I'll let you cum under one condition."

"God, anything!" You hissed, a loud moan escaping you.

"Go out with me." He smirked, adding in another finger.

You nearly asked Taehyung to repeat himself, unable to believe what he had just said. Was he joking?

At the feeling of Taehyung his fingers up inside you, your back arched, breath robbed from you momentarily.

"Are you, ah fuck, serious?" You frowned, hand wrapping around the wrist of that hand that was the source of your agony. You wanted to punch him. If agreeing to go out with him was what you need in order for him to let you cum than you would have agreed to it yesterday.

"Mhm." He mused.

"Tae–" Your response cut off by a moan. "Fuck... yes, I'll go out with you."

Taehyung's thumb once again found your poor abused clit, not holding back in pressure like he had been before. He spared you no warning, his fingers once again curling up into you in a way that had you choking on your own sob. Your mouth fell ajar slightly as your eyes shut, your release finally blinding you.

You came with Taehyung's name on your tongue, small sounds of sobs following as you legs quivering in the aftermath of your release.

Once your orgasm had let down, you let out a hollow breath, blinking harshly as your vision returned to you spottily.

You had never cum that hard and you were still trying to make sense of it all; you hardly registered the sound of Taehyung trying to comfort you.

"Are you okay? Was that okay?" Taehyung asked you again as he pressed multiple chaste kisses to your cheek.

You attempted to pull yourself up onto your elbows, still breathing hard.

"You're a little shit." You finally spoke, sending an exhausted glare Taehyung's way.

Taehyung let out a laugh as he kissed you lightly.

You sighed at the feeling, and despite the turmoil you had just gone through, you found yourself trying to deepen the kiss, thoroughly addicted to the taste of him.

"Hold on." He chuckled, breaking the kiss. "I was serious earlier. I don't want this to be a spur of the moment thing. Forgiving me for the old-fashioned, but I am a prince and I should be courting you before I do something like that again. And I want you to agree because you want to, not just because the situation calls for it but because you like me. Because I like you, Y/N. A lot."

You couldn't help but fawn over the suddenly blushing prince, a complete contrast to the Taehyung that held you from your orgasm just moments ago.

"I like you, too." You confessed shyly.

A brilliant smile fell across Taehyung's face at your words, causing your heart to soar.

"So, you'll go out with me?" He questioned excitedly.

You giggled, "Yes, I'll go out with you."

"Oh, thank god. Guess that means I can stop pretending to like tea now."

You let out a surprise scoff, "Excuse you!"

Taehyung flashed you a cheeky grin as he moved to push you back against the bed, muttering an apology as he kissed you once again, a smile on both your faces.