#oh by the way the annual death match is coming up.

[darthnell]

hey. Hey lionsgate. Capitol academy seems great and all.. but what about the fucking hunger games

[ghostvampiregalgazerock]

Second Costume Ichihime (Ichigo x Orihime) 🔞

So I did a poll on what’s Orihime’s second costume under the ghost pumpkin costume she has on. I just wanted to hear people's opinions and if you aren’t happy with the results you can choose whatever outfit you want Orihime in out of all these outfits throughout the story!

Here’s the winner!

And you can imagine her hairstyle to match her outfit during the story!

“A Halloween Party?” Orihime asked Rangiku, who was sitting across from her on her couch while drinking her tea. “Yeah! It’s our special annual Soul Reaper Halloween Party hosted by the Soul Reaper Woman’s Association!” Rangiku exclaimed happily. “Where is it gonna be held at, though?” Orihime asked. “We are holding it at an old aristocratic castle at Soul Society, where we usually hold our Halloween parties.” Rangiku said.

“I see. I will be happy to come! Kurosaki-kun would be happy to come as well.” The dark ginger-haired exclaimed happily to the blonde. “Now you are talking!” Rangiku smiled happily.

“You better wear a sexy costume to the party since I planned a sexy costume theme!!” Rangiku added in. Orihime then stood silent as her whole body turned red at what her friend said. “E…E…EEEEEEEEEHHHHHHHHHHH?!!?!?!” She yelled out, all surprised.

“You heard me! Ichigo would love to see your naughty side at the party since you two are in a relationship.” She smirked as she mentioned Orihime’s boyfriend, Ichigo. “Uh…well…” Orihime said shyly as she poked her two pointer fingers at each other. “This party will also spice your guys’ se-” “RANGIKU-SAN!!!!!!” Orihime exclaimed, all embarrassed as she interrupted Rangiku before she mentioned anything sexual.

Rangiku giggles at her friend’s reaction. “What is up with you?” Orihime asked. “Oh, you know me. I should get going soon, or Captain is gonna yell at me if I’m gone too long.” Rangiku said as she set her now empty cup down on the coffee table. “I-I-see. When is the party, by the way?” Orihime asked. “This Saturday! I will send you the address.” Rangiku smiled. “Do you need help with preparing the place before the party?” Orihime asked. “Yeah, that be wonderful.” Rangiku smiled as Orihime smiled back.

“Also… here’s your costume!” Rangiku said happily as she handed Orihime a purple paper bag. “E-E-Eh? Wait Rangiku-san! Can I pick my own cos-” “Bye!!” The blonde Soul Reaper then leaves Orihime’s apartment through the window. “Wait Rangiku-san!” Orihime yelled as she ran into her window but realized she was too late as she was already gone.

The auburn-haired sighed since she couldn’t get to her on time. “Good grief. She never listens anyway. I believe I have to deal with it when it comes to this woman.” Orihime said as she sets the bag down on her counter. “What is it that she left me to wear that I’m gonna freeze to death in?” She asked as she opened the bag before grabbing her costume.

Just then, Orihime froze as her face turned red, and her eyes were wide open at what she was holding. Her outfit was…revealing. It’s way too revealing. She wouldn’t be comfortable wearing it even if it was a bathing suit.

“What is Rangiku-san thinking? There is no way I can wear this in public!” Orihime exclaimed. “But would…Kurosaki-kun like it if we are…alone?” Orihime said shyly as she began to imagine what her boyfriend’s reaction would be to seeing her in this outfit. She snaps back to reality before it gets too much. “What on Earth am I thinking?!” Orihime cried out.

“We slept with each other so many times, and I haven’t seduced him in these kinds of outfits before, just like the movies we saw together where the girl seduces the guy dressing like this.” Orihime said. “But if it’s just me and Kurosaki-kun…” Orihime said shyly as she began to think. “WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!?!” Orihime yelled all surprised as she turned red again at what she was thinking. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * On the day of the party at the Castle

“What’s wrong with the costume I picked for you!?!” Rangiku, who was dressed as a witch, yelled in shock. Orihime chuckles shyly as she wears a costume different from the one Rangiku gave her. “Well…” Orihime said shyly as she poked her pointer fingers together. Her costume was an orange ghost costume yet almost resembling a pumpkin.

“Come on, it’s a sexy theme party. You have a great body Orihime!! That’s why I gave you that costume!!” Rangiku yelled. “Ah sorry Rangiku-san but I wasn’t sure…” Orihime said as she nervously laughed. “Oi Rangiku. It’s not really everyone’s thing to really dress sexy if they aren’t really comfortable with it.” Rukia said as she walked in wearing a pink Succubus costume.

“Well…” Orihime said shyly again. “Come on! Change out of this one and put on the other outfit I have for you since I knew you would reject the one that I gave you.” Rangiku said as she began to pull the ghost costume off of Orihime.

“No!!” Orihime whined as she struggled to get her costume on. But Rangiku stopped midway as she lifted the hem of the costume to her head. She noticed a familiar outfit under that ghost costume, causing her to smirk. Rukia’s face turned red at what her best friend was wearing. Yes…Orihime decided to wear the costume that Rangiku had given her, but it was a secret.

“Stop it Rangiku-san!!” Orihime yelled, all embarrassed as she managed to fix her costume from Rangiku’s grip. “Oh ho ho. Nice choice, Rangiku-san.” Yoruichi smirked, who was dressed as a witch too, like Rangiku, but with cat ears and a cat tail. “I decided to wear it yet secretly but…when… it’s just me and…Kurosaki-kun…” Orihime said shyly. “I see…” Rangiku smirked as she looked at Yoruichi, who had the same look on her face.

“Good grief. What is up with these two?” Nanao said, all annoyed while she dressed as a Gothic Lolita maid. “Don’t know…” Rukia said awkwardly. “Oh, this is embarrassing!!!” Orihime cried out, all embarrassed. “There there, Orihime-san, you look amazing. Ichigo-san will love what you are wearing.” Hinamori, who dressed as a wolf maid, comforted Orihime by patting her back.

“At least change out of your ghost costume to know his reaction to the outfit that I gave you!” Rangiku exclaimed as she was about to take the ghost costume off of Orihime again. “NOOO!!! I PREFER TO DO IT PRIVATELY!!!!” Orihime cried as she stopped Rangiku. “Oi oi! That’s enough.” Rukia said as she separated them. “A-A-Arigato Kuchiki-san.” Orihime said shyly as she fixed her costume again.

“I’m coming in!!!” Orihime flinched as she heard her boyfriend’s voice yell out as he came into the room holding a big brown box. She turns around and looks at her boyfriend. She blushed at what he was. He was Frankenstein, but he was shirtless, which is why she was blushing. She knew he was gonna be that character but didn’t expect he was gonna be shirtless.

“Ah Ichigo-san! You can set the box down.” Hinamori exclaimed. “Ah hai!” Ichigo said as he set the box down on the ground. “Oh! Yo Orihime!” He said as he looks at his girlfriend as he walks over to her. “Ah! Kurosaki-kun!” She said with a smile, and she was being herself again before happily hugging him.

Though they are a couple now, Orihime still calls him by his last name, and she doesn’t mind if he calls her by her first name. She called him Kurosaki-kun ever since they met, and he was still used to it. She blushes at the fact that one day, she will call him by his first name when they get married. He calls her by their first name as they grew really close to each other, as they were more than friends, and when they started to go out.

“Looks like your boyfriend is getting into the theme.” Yoruichi teased as she whispered in Orihime’s ear. Orihime blushes all red as she looks at the cat Shinigami, all surprised. “What do you mean getting into the theme? It’s Halloween, of course. Orihime is also getting into the theme.” Ichigo said, all dumbfounded. “That’s not what I’m talkin-” “Ah Kurosaki-kun you look so cool in your costume!! All patched up but in a cool way since you are Frankenstein!!” Orihime interrupts Yoruichi while laughing nervously.

“Ah…hai…” Ichigo said awkwardly. “You mean a sexy Fran-” “Ah, you might need help with that box that you brought in!! Let’s open it!!!” Orihime exclaimed as she interrupted Rangiku while laughing nervously as she tried to open the box that her boyfriend brought in. “Oi oi Orihime. Slow down. It’s sealed tightly, so it’s gonna be hard to open it.” He said as he helped his girlfriend open the box.

“Hmm…Shy as always.” Rangiku said to Yoruichi. “Yeah.” Yoruichi said. “But…Since Orihime-chan prefers to show it privately…” Rangiku smirks. “Ah…a plan I see?” Yoruichi smirks. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The party was going really well. Everyone was talking to each other and playing games. Orihime and Ichigo were in the living room sitting on the couch, talking to Rukia and Renji, who was dressed as a mummy. Rukia was sitting on top of Renji’s lap while Orihime was sitting next to Ichigo, holding his arm.

“Sexy theme Halloween Party?” Ichigo asked Rukia. “Yeah. You know Rangiku, but it looks like most of the people who came decided to dress appropriately.” Rukia asked. “Looks like some people aren’t a huge fan of the sexy theme as well.” Orihime said. “Don’t mind them, Orihime. Rangiku is just a party girl.” Renji said. “No surprise to that.” Ichigo said with an annoyed look.

“Everyone!! Attention all!!!” Rangiku exclaimed happily. Everyone looked at Rangiku, who was standing on top of a table. “What is she up to now?” Renji asked, all annoyed. “Beats me.” Ichigo said.

“Find a partner as we are about to play a scavenger hunt game!!! Whoever finishes first will get a cash prize!” Rangiku smirked. People had their eyes sparkle at what Rangiku said. “Oh she’s in for it.” Ichigo smirked as he stood up from the couch with Orihime. “Sounds like fun though.” Orihime said with a smile.

‘It’s working.’ Rangiku thought with a smirk on her face as she saw the couple joining.

“To those who are participating in the game, Yoruichi-san will come around and give the maps of what to look for. Whoever is done first, come to me. No cheating! Have fun~!” Rangiku exclaimed happily with a smile. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Find the broken black vase of red roses in Room 715.” Orihime said to her boyfriend as she was reading the map what the third item that they had to find was. “How many rooms does this place have?” Ichigo asked while he searched for the room that his girlfriend just said. “There it is!” Orihime exclaimed as she found the room number on a door. Ichigo looks at the door and his girlfriend was right.

“You are better at this stuff than me.” He said as he kissed her cheek. Orihime blushes at her boyfriend’s praise. The couple opened the door to the room, which was an old master bedroom before they walked in to find the vase. “Huh? Where’s the vase? It should be around here somewhere.” Orihime said as she was trying to find the vase. “It could be on the floor.” Ichigo said as he looked around the floor for the vase but had no luck.

“Did I read it wrong?” Orihime asked herself as she looked at the map. “No. This is just a confusing map that the girls made.” Ichigo said as he double-checked the map over his girlfriend’s shoulder. Just then, the door slammed shut. “AH!!!!” Orihime shrieked, all scared as she heard the door slam shut so loud, causing her to drop the map and jump into her boyfriend’s arms. Ichigo stood there surprised as he heard the door slam while holding his girlfriend.

“What the?!” Ichigo yelled out, all surprised. He looks at the door, and they realize it is closed. “The door?” Orihime said, all surprised, before she walked to the door and tried to open it, realizing it was locked. “Huh? EH?! It’s locked!” Orihime exclaimed as she began to panic. “The fuck?!” Ichigo asked, all surprised as he walked over to the door and tried to open it as well with force but with no luck.

“AHH! THIS PLACE IS HAUNTED!!” Orihime cried. “Oi oi. Calm down. I doubt Soul Society would have spirits haunting places.” Ichigo said as he comforted his girlfriend and pulled her into his arms. “But…We are trapped!” Orihime cried. “There, there. As long we are together.” Ichigo said as he kissed his girlfriend’s forehead and stroked the top of her head.

Orihime blushes at how her boyfriend is calming her. Held in his arms and his warmth around her. His soft lips were on her forehead. She loves it when his hand gently strokes her head. She loves it more when he strokes her hair, but it is covered by the hood of her costume. He would always say her hair was so soft when he stroked it, and it was like this.

‘Ah… Kurosaki-kun’s embrace is so warm. He’s really so gentle and very kind-hearted though people say he has a scary look. But he’s so cool and handsome with a kind heart.’ Orihime thought in her head as she relaxed in her boyfriend’s embrace.

It wasn’t long before Ichigo’s lips traveled to her lips. His lips were gentle and soft. Orihime accepts it as she wraps her arms around his waist.  “I would recommend wrapping those arms around my neck instead.” Ichigo mumbled against the kiss. “Eh?” Orihime asked, all confused against the kiss.

“Ah!!” Orihime squealed as her boyfriend picked her up bridal style in his arms. He escorts her to the king-size bed. Though he can be a gentleman, he can be a tease when they get intimate with each other.

He gently drops her on top of the bed. Orihime closes her legs so Ichigo won’t peek at her outfit under her costume. He saw her a few times in her underwear when they get into the moment, and she changed in front of him a few times. He would also respect the times if she needs privacy to change.

The orange-haired Substitute Soul Reaper takes his boots off quickly before crawling into bed and hovering over his girlfriend. Her face was flushed red as her handsome boyfriend was hovering over her. It always starts off like this when the couple gets intimate with each other. Orihime is always blushing at this moment, but she enjoys it a lot and also how attractive her boyfriend is in these kinds of moments. He had no shirt on, which made it more exciting.

“Kuro…saki…kun…” She said shyly as she looked into his brown orbs filled with love and lust, along with a seductive smirk on his face. His lips then crash against hers passionately. “Hm!” She gasped with delight against the kiss as he brushed his lips passionately against hers. She felt his tongue against her lower lip, meaning he was asking for access. She allows it as she opens her mouth as his tongue searches for her tongue. She moans as his tongue finds hers and swirls around the tip of her tongue.

He pulls away with a slight string of drool connecting to the tip of their tongues. Ichigo looked down at his girlfriend, who was flushed red and panting. Orihime looks at her boyfriend, who looks down at her with lust in his eyes.

His hand travels to her thigh, and his other hand goes to the strings of the ribbon on her collar. She felt his hand stroke her thigh, and her ribbon was becoming loose as his face went to her neck, which was exposed.

“WAIT! WAIT! WAIT!!” Orihime laughed nervously as she gently pushed her boyfriend’s face away from her neck, to his surprise. Ichigo looks at his girlfriend, confused. Usually, she is in the mood, but if she wasn’t, he would understand, or she forgot to take her birth control pill, which explains why.

“Ah…sorry. I got too much into the moment. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Ichigo apologized. “No! No! No!” Orihime laughed nervously again. “I want this and also…I took my pill today.” Orihime assured her boyfriend shyly that she had taken her birth control pill.

“Then what are you being shy about? Orihime, I’m here for you as always if you have something to say.” Ichigo said kindly with a soft smile on his face. Orihime’s heart was moved by how kind his words were. She always gets comments from a lot of girls at school and work about how lucky she is to have a handsome boy with a kind heart to be her boyfriend.

To Ichigo’s surprise, he was pushed off by his girlfriend with her on top of him while he was lying back on the bed. Orihime stood there straddling her boyfriend with her face all red. “Oi Orihime… It’s alright if you aren’t in the mood for this.” He said to his girlfriend.

Orihime exclaimed, “I am in the mood! It’s because…” Her face turns red, to Ichigo’s surprise. She unties the ribbon of her costume. As it was loose and exposed her neck. She quickly lifts her ghost costume over her head, and it is completely off before she throws it somewhere in the room, leaving her in the costume that Rangiku gave her.

“Ah…” Ichigo mumbled, all shocked as his eyes were wide open, and his face was completely red of what his girlfriend had been wearing all along under that cute costume of hers she had on the whole evening. “O…O…Orihime?!” He managed to say it from his mouth after being shocked by what his girlfriend was wearing.

The dark-haired ginger female stood there blushing while still on top of her boyfriend, revealing her second outfit to him. Not only did she have a different outfit, but her hair was in a different style to suit the mood of her outfit. Has she thought it was a good idea to do this? They saw a lot of movies where the main female lead would seduce the male lead in these kinds of outfits.

“A…A…A…Ah ha…I don’t do these kinds of things but…Rangiku convinced me to wear it to suit the mood of the theme of her party…but I wasn’t…comfortable wearing it in front of everyone… I’m alright with bathing suits…but this is different than bathing suits since its like underwear. That’s why…I prefer wearing it only in front of you…since I trust you a lot and your eyes only on me on what I wearing.” She said shyly. Ichigo’s eyes soften at his girlfriend’s words.

“Kurosaki-kun…Please always know that…ever since we met and then starting going out as a couple…I feel more safe and comfortable when I’m around you…Even when I’m wearing…something really ridiculous like this one.” Orihime said shyly with a smile.

Ichigo’s heart melts at his girlfriend’s words. He was so lucky to have a kind and honest girl to have as a girlfriend. He gets a lot of compliments on who he is dating. Every guy said they wished they were in Ichigo’s place to date her. He isn’t much of a show-off, but in his mind, he is lucky to have Orihime as his girlfriend and, one day, his future wife.

“O…O…O…Orihime…” He said softly. Just then, he held his girlfriend’s hips before he rolled her over to lie on her back on top of the bed, to her surprise. She blushed as her boyfriend was on top of her again.

“I don’t think you look ridiculous in it. You look…really amazing. Whatever you wear, you look amazing no matter. Hell, you look so beautiful even when you aren’t wearing clothes and underwear. I want you to know that…I love you of who you are.” He said with a soft smile.

Orihime’s heart melts, and her eyes soften at her boyfriend’s words. She was so lucky to have him as her boyfriend, who has a really kind and honest heart, which she can see as a future husband one day. She gets a lot of compliments about who she is dating, which makes her flustered yet happy.

“Kurosaki-kun…” She said with a soft smile as she cupped her boyfriend’s cheeks with her hands before pulling him down for a kiss. It starts off as a sweet romantic kiss before it turns into a passionate one as Orihime wraps her arms around his neck to deepen it. Ichigo then wraps his arms around her waist as that happens.

The dark-haired, auburn female moaned against the kiss as she felt her boyfriend’s tongue licking her lower lip. Orihime allows her boyfriend’s tongue to have access in her mouth. She moans as she feels her boyfriend’s tongue searching for her tongue before he finds it. She then finds herself now in a tongue-dominant battle with her boyfriend, to the couple’s excitement.

Orihime lost the battle but enjoyed her boyfriend’s tongue exploring everywhere in her mouth. She moans against the kiss as she felt his hard cock through his pants, poking against her crotch. Now, she was even more excited when the couple was in the heat of the moment. Usually, they would be gentle and slow, but being rough and slow makes it more exciting for them.

Ichigo pulls out of the kiss slowly with a string of saliva connecting to the tip of their tongues. Orihime looks up at the Substitute Soul Reaper with her cheeks flushed red, and he has the same look on his face with his brown orbs filled with lust and love.

Orihime could stare at those beautiful eyes of his all day and all night. Ichigo would do the same as he stares at her beautiful, innocent brown hazel orbs that are filled with the same as his.

“Kuro…saki…kun…” She said shyly as she stared into her boyfriend’s eyes. Ichigo didn’t say a word as he stared into his girlfriend’s eyes before he lowered his face to her neck. The auburn-haired gasped as she felt the orange-haired’s lips on her neck.

Along with that, she begins to feel his hand on her breast and his other hand on her crotch. She squealed quietly with pleasure as she felt his hand grope her breast and his fingers rubbing against her clothed folds. She gasps with pleasure as she feels his tongue on her neck.

“Kurosaki…kun…” She moaned out his name with pleasure. She gasped as she felt his hand grope her breast and his fingers sneak under the bottoms of her outfit. Her toes curled with excitement when that happened, and she then felt his fingers rubbing her folds. She never knew Ichigo would be like this, which makes it even more exciting for her.

“S-S-S-Strip me please…This outfit is starting to get really tight since we are in the heat of the moment.” She begged shyly with pleasure. Ichigo looks at his girlfriend as he pulls away from her neck. “I won’t rip it up, so you will have something underneath that costume so no one will peek.” He teased with a smile. Orihime blushes but pouts as she grows impatient, which causes him to smirk. Yes, again, he is a tease. He doesn’t tease her a lot, but he finds it fun to tease her when they are about to have sex with each other to hype the moment between them.

“P…P…P…Please…I can’t wait any longer.” Orihime said softly yet secretly with the sound of seduction while she rubbed her inner thighs together. Ichigo got more hard against his pants as that happened. He leans down to give her a deep, passionate kiss on the lips. He pulls away as Orihime breathes for air. The orange-haired Soul Reaper then slowly stripped his girlfriend out of the outfit she was wearing.

Finally, Orihime was out of the outfit of hers. Ichigo throws it somewhere in the room and admires her beautiful naked body in front of his eyes. Orihime was blushing at her boyfriend, staring at her naked body. He still gets flustered when he sees other girls naked, like Yoruichi, who just loves to tease him.

He was shy when he first saw Orihime naked, as Orihime was the same seeing Ichigo fully naked. Yet they trusted each other and, most importantly, loved each other deeply.

“You are even more beautiful when you are like this.” Ichigo said lovingly with a smile. Orihime smiled softly at his words when he said that. It made her love him more every time she heard that from him. He’s definitely a future husband one day.

Orihime reaches her hands to the belt of his pants. He smirks as she begins to unbuckle them. “You are even more handsome when you are naked as well.” She admitted, causing his heart to skip a beat when she said that. Ichigo stands up before he gets out of his costume’s trousers. Orihime blushes at the sight of his hard cock before he comes back to bed as they are completely off of him.

He hovers over his naked girlfriend. They stare at each other for a bit. “Orihime…” He breathed out. “Kurosaki-kun…You don’t have to worry about hurting me. I don’t feel the pain anymore after our first time with each other. I want to feel your touch on me. Please know that I really want this.” Orihime admitted. Ichigo stares at his girlfriend for not too long before he leans down to kiss her passionately on the lips.

“Mh!” The dark-haired, auburn female mumbled against the deep kiss from her boyfriend. He pulls away from the kiss before his lips travel to her neck again. His lips brush against her skin before his tongue joins again. His girlfriend gasps with delight as that happens with his hand groping her breast and his other hand stroking her thigh.

His lips travel to her collarbone to her pleasure. His other hand makes its way to her other breast. “Ah!” She gasped with delight as both of her bare breasts were groped by her boyfriend’s hands. His thumb fondles her nipple, making her toes curl. He gently pinches her nipple before his hand cups her breast, causing her to moan with pleasure.

She gasps with delight as she feels his hot tongue on her cold nipple. His other hand gropes her breast still as he swirls his tongue around her nipple. She places her hand on the back of his head as he works his mouth on her nipple still. His tongue flicks her nipple before his lips wrap around her nipple. “Ah…” She breathed out with pleasure as she felt the orange-haired Soul Reaper’s lips suck on her nipple before he did the same to the other nipple.

His other hand travels to her crotch. She gasped as she felt his fingers slip into her folds. Ichigo looks at his girlfriend as his tongue licks her nipple. Orihime looks at her boyfriend with her eyes half closed and her cheeks flushed red.

“Ah!” She gasps with pleasure as she throws her head back as her boyfriend slips a second finger into her folds. She arches her back as she feels her boyfriend’s finger massaging her walls. “Kuro…saki…HM!” She was then silenced by her boyfriend’s lips crashing against hers. She moaned against the kiss as she felt her boyfriend’s fingers curl inside of her.

“Ah!” She moans with pleasure again as her boyfriend pulls away from the kiss with his fingers still in her. She was close to coming on his fingers, but she then felt them slipping out of her. Orihime looks at her boyfriend and blushes as she sees him kiss her stomach. His hands are on her legs as that happens.

“Ah…NGH!!” She gasped with pleasure as she felt his tongue on her navel. He spread her legs out to have access to her folds. Her face turned red as she felt his breath against her folds. She gasps as she arches her back and throws her head back when she feels the Substitute Soul Reaper’s tongue licking her folds.

The dark-haired female held the back of his head and stroked the strands of his orange hair as she felt his tongue in her folds. Ichigo’s grip on her thighs tightened as his tongue was still in her. He felt his cock get harder as that happens. She moaned quietly as he felt his tongue thrust in and out of her.

She was close to coming in his mouth, but he pulled away from her folds, to her surprise. He crawls his back to her. He stares down at her face. Strands of her hair sticking to her forehead due to the sweat, her cheeks red, and her brown orbs slightly closed. Sweat trails down to the valley of her breasts. She looks like this when they have sex with each other, and he loves to see her like that, which makes him want her more.

Orihime gasps softly as she feels the tip of his cock rubbing her folds. Ichigo stares at his girlfriend with his brown orbs, staring at her with love and lust. The strands of his orange hair sticking to his forehead from sweat as well. His built body was covered in sweat as well. Orihime also loves to see him like this before they have sex with each other, which makes her want him more.

“Please…” Orihime begged shyly. “For what?” He teased huskily with a smirk. She blushes at her boyfriend’s words at words and how he sounded. “You have to take it slow, my love.” Ichigo said seductively. She couldn’t wait anymore. She wanted to feel him in her.

To his surprise, he was then pushed over to his back on the bed by his girlfriend, who was now on top of him. She straddles his hips as she stares down at him before she positions herself. “O…O…O…Orihime…” He said, all shocked, with his cheeks blushing at his girlfriend.

“I can’t wait… any longer…” Orihime said before she slowly lowered herself with his cock inserted into her folds. The couple moaned and gasped with delight as that happened. “Ah…it feels so good.” She moaned out with pleasure with a smile. He was right. His cock between her walls was perfect for each other.

Ichigo stares at his girlfriend with his cheek all red yet turned on by his girlfriend on top of him. “You can…Move…” Ichigo moaned out as he held his girlfriend’s hips. Orihime begins to slowly move up and down on her boyfriend’s cock. Ichigo moans with delight softly as his girlfriend thrusts on his cock. Her hands pressed on his abs for balance as he held her hips.

He stares at her lovingly as she thrusts up and down on his cock slowly. They take it slow when this happens, which makes it more exciting for them and Ichigo, who makes sure she isn’t hurting her. Orihime doesn’t mind. He goes fast when she tells him to go quickly, and it doesn’t hurt anymore after their first time, and they have been having sex with each other for a while.

He thrusts up slowly, causing her to gasp with pleasure. He grunts under his breath as that happens. “Ah…Amazing Kurosaki-kun…” She moaned out with a smile on her face. “Orihime…” He said softly between his breaths.

It wasn’t long before Orihime began to speed it up, and Ichigo slowly did. He then held her hands for her balance as she decided to speed it up a bit more. She gasps and pants as she felt her boyfriend’s cock thrusting in and out of her.

He then stares at his girlfriend’s breasts, beginning to bounce up and down as she bounces on top of him. He gets comments from Kon ‘that he is lucky to witness a Goddess’s breasts without a bra.’ Which leads Ichigo to punch him in the face for saying that. He loves everything about her girlfriend. He wasn’t like Kon, who just wanted to suffocate himself out of happiness against a woman’s chest.

The couple stare at each other. Ichigo stares at her lovingly as he thrusts his cock up and down in his girlfriend’s folds. “Ah…Kurosaki-kun…” She moaned out his name again with pleasure as she began to slow down. He then realizes she can’t stay still based on her leaning back and is about to lose balance.

“Orihime…” He moaned out her name as he sat up. Orihime wraps her arms around her boyfriend’s neck. He wraps his arms around her waist as that happens. She moans into the kiss as she continues to thrust up and down on her boyfriend’s cock. Ichigo moans with delight as he slides his tongue into her mouth, which she gladly accepts.

“I still want more…” She moans against the kiss. Ichigo pulls away from the kiss slowly. “Hold on tight.” He whispered in a deep voice. Orihime gasps as her boyfriend then pins her down against the bed. She still had her legs and arms wrapped around him like a koala bear.

Ichigo then thrusts into her deeply, causing the couple to moan and gasp with delight. Orihime throws her head back with pleasure against the pillow. “Faster…” She breathes out as her boyfriend continues to move quickly. “Ah!” She gasps as her boyfriend begins to pick up the pace. She felt his cock hitting her ‘sweet spot’. “Ngh!” She gasped with delight.

He smashed his lips against hers to silence her moans so they didn’t get louder. Her embrace around him tightens as he speeds it up. Her loud moans were muffled against the kiss. They could hear their muffled moans against the kiss, the bed creaking due to their movements, and their skins slapping each other.

Their minds then went blank as they came.

Ichigo pulls away from the kiss as they gasp for air and moan softly. The Substitute Soul Reaper slowly pulls his cock out of her entrance. His cock was covered in her cum as her folds were covered in his semen mixed with her cum.

Ichigo looked down at his girlfriend, who was panting and trying to regain her normal breath like him. He softly smiles at her before he leans down to kiss her forehead for her comfort and showing his gentle side to her. He also did this when they first made love to each other to assure her he would never hurt her and how much he loved her. She loves it when he does that, which is her favorite thing from him now, knowing she is safe and he is always with her no matter what.

Orihime looks at her boyfriend with a tired, loving smile, causing him to smile back at her. “Kurosaki-kun…you are amazing…as always.” She said as she slowly raised her hands up to his face before cupping his cheeks. “I could say the same thing to you as well.” He said before he leaned down to give her a sweet, gentle, long peck on the lips.

Ichigo then helps his girlfriend sit up as he sits up as well. She blushes as she realizes she is sitting on his lap. She had sat on his lap before, but she got flustered about it since it was out of nowhere when he pulled her, to her surprise. Ichigo held her in his arms and stroked her hair as he lay back against the bed headboard.

“Hey…Did I go too rough on you?” Ichigo asked, a bit worried about his girlfriend. “No. I would have told you that you are, but you never go really rough. You are quick, which is what I love about you, but you are also really gentle, which is what I really love about you.” She said with a loving, soft smile. Ichigo smiled softly at his girlfriend’s words and was relieved that she wasn’t hurt.

“Hey Orihime…” He said his girlfriend’s name. Orihime looks up at her boyfriend. “We have been together for a while now. I was wondering if you are planning to call me by my first name soon? Because I would love to hear your voice say my first name.” He said shyly, his cheeks turning red.

Orihime blushes at her boyfriend’s words. “Oi, don’t worry if you don’t have an answer to it. Didn’t mean to rush you.” Ichigo said shyly again. Orihime stood silent for a while as she held on to her boyfriend.

“I-I-Ichi…kun…” She said shyly. Ichigo looks at his girlfriend with red cheeks, looking at how she said his first name. “Ichi-kun?” He asked, all confused. “I stuttered okay!” She exclaimed all shyly. “I always called you Kurosaki-kun ever since we met. This is my first time saying your name since we are a couple. I almost said your last name but with ‘kun’ at the end.” She explained shyly.

Ichigo smiles lovingly at his girlfriend’s words. “I don’t mind it…as long it’s from you.” He said softly. Orihime looks at her boyfriend, who has a sweet and gentle smile on his face, which she loves so much to see from him. She smiles back before she cups her boyfriend’s cheeks. “You are so kawaii.” She cooed with a giggle. “Oi oi. I was supposed to say that to you.” He pouted with his cheeks all red.

Orihime then happily pulls her boyfriend into a sweet kiss on the lips. “I love you.” She said against the kiss. “I love you too.” Ichigo said happily against the kiss.

The couple then got out of bed before they changed back into their costumes and put their shoes back on. “Oh, my family is out for the night. My dad is at an overnight seminar. Yuzu and Karin are sleeping over at a friend’s house. So I was wondering if you could come over for the night, or we could stay at your place.” Ichigo said. “Your place be alright. Can we stop over to my place so I can grab some pajamas and a change of clothes?” Orihime asked. “Yeah.” Ichigo said.

Just then, the door squeaks open. “AHH!!!!” Orihime squealed in fear as she jumped into her boyfriend’s arms, to his surprise. He looks at the door finally opening. “Calm down… It’s just the door.” He said as he comforted his girlfriend with a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Ah…I see…” She laughs nervously as she lets go of her boyfriend but holds on to his arm though. “Maybe a kind ghost is letting us out.” He teased as he walked to the door with his girlfriend, causing her to chuckle.

“Or a teasing ghost…” The couple then heard two familiar voices outside the door. Ichigo then started to look piss to realize who it was before he opened the door revealing a smirking Rangiku and Yoruichi. “It was you two??!?!!!” He yelled, all annoyed. “Oi oi Ichigo, relax. It suits the mood of the party. And we know you couldn’t resist your beautiful girlfriend looking that.” Yoruichi smirked, causing Orihime’s face to turn bright red.

“And we set the scavenger hunt up to only set you guys up to be alone together.” Rangiku smirked teasingly. “You got to be kidding me…” Ichigo mumbled, all annoyed. “You’re welcome,” Yoruichi said, with a smirk, along with her hands on her hips. “Oh by the way, care for a game of 7 minutes in hea-”

“Ah Thanks for inviting us!!” Ichigo interrupted the Division 10 Lieutenant before he dragged his girlfriend away quickly as they walked away from them with his face all red. “Eh?!? Leaving so soon?!” Rangiku pouted. “Let them be Rangiku. We should let find their own fun without our help.” Yoruichi smirked as she whispered. “Hehehe. I see.” Rangiku smirked.

“SHUT UP I HEARD THAT!!!!” Ichigo yelled with his face all red while he walked away with his girlfriend, who was all red as well. The couple then begin to find their way out of the castle. But the problem was, it was big, and there were a lot of rooms. “Ah dammit!! Where the hell is the exit?!” Ichigo yelled as he was trying to find the exit with his girlfriend. “Calm down Ichi-kun. We should ask someone for directions to find a way out.” Orihime said with a soft smile to calm her boyfriend down.

“Oh ho ho ho ho ho! I know the way~!” The couple heard a familiar voice slur. They turn around to see Renji carrying Rukia in a fireman carry style. “Renji! Rukia!” Ichigo said, surprised to see his two best friends. “Yo…” Rukia said happily, sounding like she was drunk. “The hell happened to Rukia?” Ichigo asked about his best female friend’s drunken state. “Let’s say while the scavenger hunt was happening, Rukia decided to have a few drinks and she lost count of course. And I have to take her home because Captain Byakuya said if she drinks too much and is drunk, take her home for her safety.” Renji said. “Ah…makes sense.” Ichigo said awkwardly.

The couple then noticed bruised bite marks on the back of Rukia’s upper legs. Orihime blushes to realize what she did but doesn’t say anything. Ichigo notices it, to his surprise, but decides to not say anything. Renji blushes as the couple notices the love marks he gave to his girlfriend. Looks like they weren’t the only ones who had some fun. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *At The Kurosaki Household*

The couple were finally home. They took a bath together and cooked a late-night dinner together. Orihime was finally out of her costume into a pair of orange two-piece pajama set with ghosts on there. Ichigo’s pajamas were just a black t-shirt and orange-brownish plaid pajama bottoms. The couple finished their dinner and decided to watch a Halloween movie marathon together in the living room, sitting on the couch and snuggling each other under a blanket.

Now, the couple were in Ichigo’s bedroom, snuggling in each other’s arms on his bed. “Hey Ichi-kun…” Orihime said her boyfriend’s name to get his attention. “Hm?” Ichigos asked.

“I had a lot fun at the party and seeing everyone. But I want to let you know…I prefer to have these evenings with just you. Not wearing a ridiculous revealing costume. But what we had in that bedroom locked up, it was incredible. As it always is when we make love to each other. You know it wasn’t my idea but…it did felt like it came out of a movie when I was thinking about it. I was insecure at first of doing it. But your words saying that I look amazing in whatever outfit I wear and not wearing any clothes and love me of who I am…made me love you even more.” She said with a loving smile and cuddled up more in her boyfriend’s arms.

Ichigo smiles at his girlfriend’s words before he embraces her tightly. “Yeah. It was a fun party and to see everyone. But having an evening with just you is what I prefer as well. What we had in the bedroom locked up did make it exciting from the movies we saw together. I always want you to know Orihime that I know it wasn’t your idea but it was fun. I love you whoever you are. I also want you to be comfortable with your choices and support them. I’m always here for you no matter what since you mean a lot to me.” He said as he held the side of her head to his chest.

She smiles as she hears his heart beating. Her heart was skipping a beat as she heard his heart beating. It was music to her ears. She could hear it all day. She loves to be in this position when she’s held in her boyfriend’s arms.

It wasn’t long before the couple looked at each other and pulled each other in a kiss on the lips. It wasn’t a rough and quick, passionate one to get into the moment. It was a long, sweet, and gentle kiss that they loved to give each other. They pulled away from the kiss before they smiled at each other and exchanged other goodnights before falling asleep in each other’s arms.

Just then, they woke up to their surprise as they felt something land on the bed between their feet. “The fuck?” Ichigo asked, all annoyed, as he saw a small black-wrapped box on the edge of his bed between his and Orihime’s feet. “W-W-What is it?” Orihime asked, a bit nervous, worrying it was a Halloween prank from a few kids, and decided to throw something because Ichigo’s window open to get some fresh air.

Ichigo then notices a note taped on the box. He grabs the note before reading it and then pouting as he notices the handwriting. “It’s for you.” Ichigo said as he passed the note to his girlfriend as she sat up as well before taking the note from his hands and reading it.

‘Thank you for joining the Soul Society’s Halloween Party!! I might say Orihime, you did have the guts to wear that outfit I gave you but only Ichigo is allow to see to get into the mood. To honor that, here’s a Thank you for coming special gift for you! - Rangiku’

“Thank you gift?” Orihime asked, all confused, before she set the note down before she grabbed the box, and set it on her lap. She unwraps the box and opens it. Ichigo looked over to see what his girlfriend was opening, which she received from the 10th Division Lieutenant.

The couple’s faces turned bright red at what it was. Another revealing outfit. But…more revealing than the other one that Rangiku gave her. Ichigo could tell that his girlfriend wouldn’t wear something like that since he could tell she was more uncomfortable with this one.

“She’s…Why…Where’s the rest…” Orihime was lost for words as she picked the outfit up from the box. Her face turns red as she stares at it. “I DON’T WANT TO WEAR THESE KINDS OF THINGS ANYMORE!!!!” Orihime cried as she dropped the outfit before hugging her boyfriend for comfort.

Ichigo throws the outfit and the box out of the window, to his annoyance, before closing the window. He comforts his girlfriend in his arms. “There there. You don’t have to listen to Rangiku anymore to what to wear. Again it’s your choice.” Ichigo said as he stroked his girlfriend’s hair for comfort. Orihime didn’t say a word, and her all red face was also pushed up against her boyfriend’s chest.

From now on, they planned to do quiet Halloween evenings with only each other after that night. 

Here's the outfit that Rangiku gave her at the end lol!

Thank you all for reading!!!! Sorry the ending was rushed I ran out of ideas and my apologies you were waiting awhile for this story to come out after I made a poll on this!! I was busy and working on other stories but more Ichihime stories will come soon with some RenRuki stories!

[satansapostle6]

Black Hearts | Barty Crouch Jr.

“I’m afraid I don’t come from any noble house…”

“Nobility is overrated anyways.”

Regarded as fanatics, lunatics, and villains, Ravenna Black and Bartemius Crouch Jr. shared a love that lasted beyond time, and death.

Warning: Mature themes/language. Violence. Sexual content.

Chapter Two

Chapter Three: The Affair

31 December, 1980

It was the annual Black family New Year’s Eve party, and it was an affair to be remembered. Glittering decorations of rich black, and gold, and silver covered the house. Druella Black, ever the proud hostess, stood in the foyer looking rather pleased with herself alongside her husband, Cygnus III. The couple seemed to have everything; their three present daughters had all completed their schooling at Hogwarts, having been in Slytherin just like their parents, and two out of the three were already married off to respectable men.

However, Druella black seemed to be having the most trouble with their youngest daughter, Ravenna. Ravenna was a sharp and headstrong girl, taking after her eldest sister, Bellatrix. Much like Bellatrix, Ravenna Black refused to be overshadowed by a husband, despite her parents’ old-fashioned values.

Although Cygnus Black was a much more indifferent and diplomatic sort of individual, his wife, Druella, held fast to her convictions. Ever since her daughters were children, she had instilled in them that a woman’s value was in the family she built, and a family was entirely defined by the strength of its patriarch. So, Bellatrix married Rodolphus Lestrange, and years later, Narcissa married Lucius Malfoy, and was now pregnant with a baby boy. The only girl left unmarried was Ravenna, who had finished school not long ago.

That night at the New Year’s Eve party, Druella insisted upon outshining her sister-in-law, Walburga, in every way possible. She had spent months coordinating the food, decorations, and guest list of her lavish party, which everyone in the wizarding world knew was an event intended only for the most elite Pureblood families, and of course, their eligible bachelors, which Druella took her time in vetting for her youngest daughter.

Ravenna naturally hated parties. Not only because of her mother’s obvious agenda in introducing her to quite literally every young, rich Pureblood she could find, but because Ravenna felt that parties were insufferable cesspools of the most boring people you had ever met. It had taken her the promise of bottomless champagne to ensure that she wouldn’t run up to her bedroom before ten, let alone midnight.

“Ravenna, I promise you, they’re not all bad,” Ravenna’s sister Narcissa said as they walked about the party.

Ravenna sighed as she strolled alongside her sister, hardly indulging her as she pointed out random gentlemen scattered around the party.

“Yaxley’s a very intelligent man. Father thinks he’s got potential,” Narcissa said quietly as they looked around.

“Ugh,” Ravenna scoffed at the notion, “Not likely.”

“Okay,” Narcissa Malfoy said patiently as they walked the room, “What about Nott? He’s charming enough.”

“For a scarecrow, maybe,” Ravenna said irritably. “You know, if Mother expects me to be married in the prime of my life, she’d better at least find me someone who didn’t hit theirs during seventh year.”

“Oh, come, Venna, surely there’s someone in this room you like,” Narcissa frowned. “Oh, what about Justin Macmillan? Don’t you like him?” she asked her sister.

“He’s handsome, but I’m worried he’ll age like his father.”

Narcissa tapped her chin as she thought for a moment. “Well, what about… Oh! Nicholas Avery! He seems like he’d be a good match!” she suggested.

“Mmm, I don’t think so,” Ravenna decided.

Why?” Narcissa questioned her.

“He’s bad in bed.”

It took a moment for this to register with Narcissa as she began to laugh, searching in her sister’s eyes for the truth. Narcissa had always been the most reserved sister.

“How about… Barty Crouch Jr.?” she continued. “I trust you haven’t bedded him yet,” she supposed jokingly.

“Barty Crouch’s son?” Ravenna questioned. “And picture his father’s mustache every time we do it? No thank you,” she decided confidently, not even looking.

“The Crouches are also a part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, you know,” Narcissa reminded her sister, earning an irritable eye roll.

*****

Hours into the party, Ravenna remained alone, as a sort of statement at this point. Midnight was minutes away, and she saw no reason not to see out the end of the year alone. Everyone was gathered around, listening to a music broadcast as they anticipated the long-awaited tradition of New Year’s Eve kisses.

All of the party guests were gathered around, many of which with their partners, waiting excitedly. Ravenna stood at the back of the room, arms crossed as she looked down on all the other simple-minded people. She found herself almost enjoying the silence, and the peace, just as she felt someone creep up behind her.

“Enjoying the party?”

Ravenna whipped around, startled, wand in hand as she saw Lucius Malfoy standing behind her, slick grin on his face. Ravenna had never expressed it to her sister outright, but she hated her husband. She hated Lucius’s long platinum hair, and his ostentatious rings. Above all, Ravenna thought her sister could’ve done much better than the arrogant prick she’d chosen to marry.

“I was,” Ravenna muttered as she crossed her arms.

Lucius frowned mockingly. “Can’t you be civil for two seconds?”

“Where’s my sister?” she sighed impatiently, unable to stomach another minute with Lucius.

“Upstairs. Not feeling well,” Lucius sighed, looking around the room with boredom. “It’s the baby.”

“Right,” Ravenna stared, unimpressed by the extent of his empathy, “Well, that tends to happen…”

“I’m assuming you have no New Year’s Eve kiss lined up?” Lucius asked smugly.

“No, I suppose not. Not sure how I’ll make it through the night,” she sighed dramatically.

“Well,” Lucius began, moving in towards her.

He leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“I suppose we’re both in need of company…”

“No. We are not,” Ravenna promised him, “I abhor the idea, actually.”

“Ooh, so strong, and independent,” he remarked, laying on the charm. “It’s true what they say. You really are just like your sister Bellatrix.”

“Bella set her bedroom on fire because she suspected Rodolphus of being unfaithful,” she reminded him, “And I don’t care about you anywhere near as much as I care about my bedroom.”

“Oh, come, Venna,” Lucius purred as he lowered her wand, his hand resting on hers, “Why don’t we sort this out elsewhere? Hmm?”

“Why would I ever go anywhere with you?!” she scoffed. “You’re absolutely loathsome.”

“That may be,” the tall blond concurred, “But I’m also the best-looking in the room.”

Ravenna glared up at him as she cornered him, away from the rest of the party guests.

“I could kill you, you know,” she said in a dangerously low tone.

“Then why don’t you?” Lucius questioned, tilting his head. “Hmm?”

Ravenna felt her breathing quicken as she wished that she could just fling him across the room.

“If you hate me so much, then why don’t you just walk away?” Lucius Malfoy suggested.

Ravenna said nothing as he moved in closer, brushing away a loose strand of her dark hair.

“I see you, you know,” he murmured. “I see how intelligent, and strong, and beautiful you are…”

Ravenna laughed bitterly at his thinly-veiled attempt at seducing her.

“I also see the way you look at me,” he whispered, “When no one else is looking… The way your eyes light up with hatred, and sex.”

Ravenna scowled up at him, pushing him backward into the empty dining room as he chuckled darkly, grabbing her by the waist.

“Oh, I love you,” Lucius hissed, pulling her in closer as their lips met. “More than you’ll ever know.”

He hoisted her up onto the dining table, as she furiously tore his shirt open.

“I hate you,” Ravenna grinned, a crazed look in her eyes. “More than you’ll ever know.”

Lucius was fired up. He kissed her even more hungrily as she pulled him in by the collar of his shirt. His cold, soft hands slid her dress up her legs, ripping a slit into the side of her skirt out of a lack of patience. Ravenna sighed, content as he grabbed her by the hips, sliding her towards him as he selfishly ravished her, tongue admittedly hitting all the right spots.

“I hate you,” she gasped, in between groans.

Lucius stopped for a moment and looked up, a cocky grin spreading across his face as he crawled over her on the table, looming over her like a dark cloud.

“I hate you more,” he promised her, long, thick fingers curling inside her.

She grunted spitefully as he pinned her down, leaving her no room.

“Come here,” he said darkly, demanding a kiss, “I want you to taste that sweet cunt.”

She reciprocated his crude, hungry kiss, before slapping him across the face, even managing to startle the suave Lucius Malfoy.

“You’re a sweet cunt,” Ravenna spat.

He chuckled in amusement. “Now I understand what they mean when they say ‘you are what you eat’.”

*****

“Venna,” Bellatrix said, “Where have you been?”

“Skulking,” she replied, which seemed to be sufficient enough for her sister.

Bellatrix frowned as she looked down at her sister’s dress. “Did that dress always have a slit in it?”

Ravenna just shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah.”

“Hmm,” Bellatrix huffed. “It’s a bit high, isn’t it?”

Ravenna looked down.

“I like it,” she defended it.

“You look like a whore,” Bella said flatly. “Well done.”

Ravenna just smiled as she returned to the party.

*****

20 July, 1981

Ravenna gingerly sipped on her spot of tea, glancing out the window at odd intervals. There was nothing in the world she loathed more than tea time, the most proper time of day during which she and her sisters were forced to shed their husbands like snakeskin and talk about everything and nothing.

Ravenna and Bellatrix both hated the frilly formality of tea time. Meanwhile, Narcissa, who was no stranger to graceful social politics, hated tea time for a completely different reason. Narcissa Malfoy hated tea time because it was the one time of day in which it became very apparent that she was not Druella’s obedient little twin, but her competition.

While Ravenna was more sympathetic, Bellatrix could never understand why her sister felt the need to vie for their mother’s approval. Bellatrix felt that Narcissa was more than worthy of their mother’s respect, and she should be proud to pose such a threat to her. But of course, Narcissa didn’t see it that way. She had never suffered more than she had under the contradictions of her relationship with their mother. She could either be unextraordinary and disappointing, or powerful and insubordinate. It seemed Narcissa couldn’t win.

Narcissa was jealous of Bellatrix, and of Ravenna, and even and especially Andromeda, for that matter. Neither of them cared about, or even seemed to notice, their mother’s opinions, at least not on the things that didn’t actually matter. They lived purely for themselves, something Narcissa couldn’t admit she’d never learned to do. Bellatrix and Ravenna were the rebels, and Narcissa decided that made Druella angry enough.

It was only about a short half hour into tea when Druella Black finally realized why her youngest daughter had been so fixated on whatever was on the window. Just as Narcissa had come up with another thoughtful and safe conversation topic, Retch, the family house-elf, entered the room.

“Mr. Crouch Jr. for Miss Black,” the elf announced before promptly leaving the room.

Druella turned sharply, not having approved of any guests, especially not Art. The mood in the room, with the exception of Bellatrix’s smugness, turned stale as Art nodded his head politely. Ravenna herself barely disguised her smirk.

“Sorry to interrupt your tea, ladies,” Art said politely. “I was just hoping to pay a visit to Ravenna here.”

He turned to Ravenna, smiling eagerly as she just sat in her seat, admiring his confidence. Druella seemed to have nearly popped a vein in her neck when another body entered the room after Art. Cygnus, who seemed to be in a fairly pleasant mood.

“Art and I just spoke. The Crouches send their warmest regards, Druella,” he informed her. “Isn’t that swell?”

“Yes,” she said through her teeth, “Quite.”

Art turned to Ravenna, and she nearly let out an uncharacteristic girlish giggle. She was positively giddy.

-

Chapter Four

[venuscxre]

𝟎𝟏 | ⌞ 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐋 ⌝

summary ; liones’ annual founding celebration takes a turn into the bloodiest day the kingdom has ever witnessed. what’s worse is that its mightiest order of knights have discarded their loyalty and turned their backs on the realm. what on earth was the king thinking when he established an order of eight terrible criminals?

wc ; 1.4k

tags ; murder, gore, treason.

notes ; can you tell that i was just bullshitting with allioni and his background?

𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠

[ THE OUTSKIRTS OF LIONES ; THE CAPITAL CITY. ]

the grey sky that blankets the kingdom of liones, proves to be a clear sign of an indescribable tragedy. it’s drizzling lightly, the pitter-patter of rain hitting against the cobbled streets. unusually, the city is lifeless, and the eerily quiet atmosphere is reminiscent to that of a ghost town— quite ironic for a kingdom’s capital city, and on the day of its founding, no less.

meanwhile, the heavy smell of death lingers in the air. from what can be seen, numerous buildings were collapsed and the debris from the destruction had made home on the streets. only the gods knew what had taken place to have had the capital sitting in destruction, with the citizens and knights alike in a state of disarray.

sky manta soar through the air, holy knights on their backs, surveying the damage from above and looking for any civilians who hadn’t evacuated with the rest— highly unlikely, but still a possibility.

throughout this, a young knight takes slow, cautious steps through the lifeless streets. he looks around, clammy hands gripping tightly onto his sword. he’s a rookie, no doubt, it’s painfully obvious with how terrible his posture is and the poor way he holds his sword.

“hey!”

when a gruff voice calls out to him, the boy lets out a frightened yelp, almost jumping out of his skin in surprise. he whips his head back and breathes a sigh of relief at the sight of another knight bearing the crest of the country, this one far older than he was. thank the gods it wasn’t an enemy; he has no idea what he’s doing, and if he had a run in with the perpetrator of this mess then he’d be dead for sure.

“you got a minute? give me a hand here,” the older knight beckons him over before plodding off down a dark alleyway, not giving him so much as a glance afterward.

“y—yes, sir!”

quickly scurrying over to his superior, the young knight matches his strides, but makes sure to keep some distance between them while they walk through the narrow space.

“where’re you from?” the older man questions, glancing up at the boy from the corner of his eyes.

“i’m from cains, sir,” his voice comes out a little more meek than he had intended. curse this softhearted nature of his. just why did he have to resemble his mother in this way? he loves her, he swears on his life that he does, but he’ll never make it if he continues to be such a wuss!

despite his internal monologue comprising mainly of berating comments towards himself for his cowardly ways, allioni’s fingers nervously fidget with the leather of his scabbard, an attempt to distract himself from his nerves that had been going haywire since he’d been deployed to the scene.

“cains? i’m an old-timer who’s served the kingdom for 40 years, and i’ve never heard of the place.”

“oh... well, that’s not surprising. it’s out in the boonies.”

on one hand, allioni is disappointed that his hometown is so easily glossed over by everyone else in the kingdom, leaving him as nothing but a dirt poor countryside boy compared to his other comrades who had been born and raised in the more popular areas of the kingdom, and were relatively more well off than he is.

but on the bright side, there’re others in the same predicament which gives him a little semblance of relief. he doesn’t feel too bad about it, he guesses.

while the blond knight delves back into his seemingly never ending thoughts, a long beat of silence settles between him and his superior. the older knight took his time to observe the boy, noting his nervous body language and his fidgeting. he calls him out on it.

“you know, if you’re this flustered, there won’t be any hope for you becoming a holy knight’s apprentice.”

the boy’s shoulders sag, but the look on his face conveys he’d already come to terms with his fate. “no, i could only dream of it. i could never be a holy knight.”

the older man released a sigh, regretting holding the conversation. ‘what a pessimist,’ he shakes his head, unimpressed. ‘i truly fear for this generation of knights. they’re a bunch of weak-willed cowards and spineless fools.’

looking ahead, the older knight is reminded of just why he needed an extra set of hands and immediately realizes that he had just brought a weak-willed coward, in his words, alongside with him. “unfortunately, this will surely be a hard job for someone of your nature.”

allioni raises a confused eyebrow. his gaze then shifts to the scene ahead and he immediately contemplates on gouging his eyes out with the blade at his hip. his confused expression slowly morphs into one of pure terror, cold sweat starting to break out on his face. nothing, no amount of training drills or regimens could’ve ever prepared him for what he’s just bore witness to.

“are these...” he begins, but the words die in his throat. it felt as if his lungs have closed up, preventing him from taking in any air. he feels his chest heave and his body tremble, and everything in his body is urging him to run or look away at the very least, but he couldn’t.

“holy knights, one and all,” the older moves closer to the bloody scene, leaving the young allioni to come to his senses. but how could he? in front of them was a bloodbath. seeing the essence of life of not one, but numerous of knights like him; strong, honoured knights, make one with the concrete was enough to send him spiralling down into the depths of regret.

regret for dreaming of one day becoming a strong holy knight. regret for leaving home to the barracks despite his widowed mother’s pleas. he should’ve listened to her, his father died in war after all. she didn’t want to lose her son the same way she lost her beloved.

‘mother, when i see you next, i’ll beg for your forgiveness. i’ve been a fool.’

“hurry up, boy! we haven’t all day.”

allioni jolts and hesitantly moves forward. he recognizes the place as the town square, but right now, it was nothing more than the deathbed for numerous holy knights, all either impaled by their own weapons or crushed to death by the huge pieces of debris. the lot of them were lying in pools of their own blood. some still warm, while others were... not so much...

“wh—what happened here,” forcing the words out of his mouth, allioni feels nauseous and heavily dizzy. this would definitely serve to be a nightmare for many years to come.

“what happened?” the older knight echoes, a cold expression settling on his face. “use your eyes, boy. they were butchered. in the blink of an eye at that. now, quit standing there like an idiot and come help me confirm who these people are, or would you rather mop up the blood?”

the younger knight is aghast, trying to push down the bile that’s rising up his throat. he had to help confirm who these people were and clean up this mess? the thought alone made him want to vomit. just what in the world had happened? who was evil enough to do this? those thoughts plague his mind, and spur on a headache.

he takes in deep breaths through his mouth to calm himself, breathing in through his nose would only let him smell the metallic undertone that blood carries with it. he would most definitely throw up if he smells that.

while he helps confirm the deceased, taking time to pray for them as well, a single question keeps repeating in his mind. he has to know who did this. “u—um, sir...? if you don’t mind me asking, was this the work of an assassin?”

a tense silence follows after his question. “this was no assassin. we were betrayed, by the strongest soldiers we ever had.”

those words were like a bucket of ice cold water being poured onto him. they not only sent a shiver down his spine, but, it also sent his entire world crashing down when he came to the realization of who was responsible for this massacre. “y-you don’t mean... no way... it couldn’t be...”

allioni adamantly refuses to believe that his heroes were capable of turning their backs to their own country, but then again, all the members were originally criminals in one way or another, so this level of treason was to be expected. “oh, but it is. that’s right, the eight deadly sins are the ones responsible for this.”

© 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒𝐂𝐗𝐑𝐄; plagiarism, retranslation or reposts of my work is completely unauthorized.

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated. <33

[eruden-writes]

Brainstorm - Part 1 (NaNoWriMo)

(I gave up on NaNo rather early... >_> Which I kind of expected I'd do. Focusing on one story is so difficult for me.)

Summary: Novella von Ella wants to fall in love, but she wants it to be unexpected. She wants to feel the warm fuzzies and be swept off her feet. She wants to be surprised and overwhelmed.

Which is easier said than done with her powers.

As a Creator, a Storyteller to be precise, Novella can read, sense, and - to an extent - manipulate the story of reality. Whatever she does just must contribute to a good story. She tends to limit her ‘stories’ to personal affairs and small business ventures. Easy, small stories. Preferably with romance involved, but not necessary.

One Springtide festival, the Queen convinces Novella to play a matchmaking game, which ends with her paired with an amiable elven diplomat from Bloque. He is handsome, considerate, and everything she could want in a match.

However, her potential suitor isn’t the only pursuit getting underway. A Death Reader has come to town, claiming to be there to witness her end.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Very few things called for exuberant celebration while a country was clutched in the hands of wartime. However, the annual Springtide Celebration seemed to shatter the dismal humors of the empire. Many had traveled, from near and far, to experience the week-long carnival in the streets. By foot, by horse, by carriage, or other conveyances. Which showed in the streets outside the city square, as the lanes became bloated with residents and tourists alike.

Street performers danced and played instruments as crowds flocked the streets that had been cordoned off from vehicle traffic. Every so often, the flow of bodies would shift as an event or competition began or ended.

New faces hawked goods or food from stalls in the street. Regular storefronts, not to be outdone by the interlopers, had their doors and windows decorated in springtime flower wreaths or bright vibrant colors. One could barely turn without seeing a sign for ‘Springtide Sales.’

Novella strolled along the town square, enjoying the temporary invigoration of the community. It was a welcome diversion after so many years of political tension - and now outright war - with the neighboring country of Dedlinea.

“Good morn, Lady Storyteller!” Mrs. Nichols, the baker, called from the open door of her shop.

Novella softly smiled at the baker, adjusting her course to intercept them. “Good morn to you, as well. Any new specials?”

“Got a cherry almond muffin, pink fer the springtide.” Mrs. Nichols grinned broadly, holding the bakery’s door open for Novella as she entered.

The yeasty scent of breads and muffins, along with more delicate sugary treats, enveloped Novella as she entered. In front of her, laid out in rows and trays on counters, were the fruits - er… breads - of Mrs. Nichols’ and her assistants’ early morning work. Hearty grain-filled breads, filled and unfilled croissants, smaller versions of large loaves, and the litany of muffins, cupcakes, and pastries. Novella could almost feel the cozy heat that wafted from them, upon first leaving the oven. Flanking the door at a distance, there were a few others eating at small tables located around the front.

“That sounds delicious!” Novella reached for her coin purse in her bag, making her way to the purchasing counter. “How much?”

As the baker made her way to the counter, behind which sat a number of delectable baked goods, she hummed in consideration. Novella followed her, her lips quirked in a curious smile. When someone had to think about the price, that usually meant they wanted a trade from her.

Mrs. Nichols did not disappoint Novella’s intuition. “How’s ‘bout a trade instead, Madame Storyteller?”

“Oh?” Not an uncommon request. Those who didn’t have money to spare often requested to pay in goods, which Novella accepted. She had been given a number of wonderful things in payment. From small baubles to her current occupation as the court’s Storyteller.

“I’ll give you…” Mrs. Nichols waved her hand, trying to come up with a fair price. “Oh, half a dozen muffins fer a reading?”

“A reading for what, exactly?” Novella raised her eyebrows, curious to know what Mrs. Nichols could even wish to know. Her business did remarkably well and her marriage was a happy one, as far as Novella knew.

At that question, Mrs. Nichols’s cheery demeanor dimmed a little. From beneath her shirt, she withdrew a locket. It had been a gift from Rye Nichols, the baker’s son. Novella pressed her lips together, realizing she should have known sooner.

“My sonny boy. Y’know he got drafted a coupla weeks back,” the baker sighed, unaware Novella had already figured out the reason for her request.

Many able-bodied residents of Wip had been wrangled into the forces, long before the war officially began. The army had certainly been draining the populace of the strong, capable, younger generation.

Novella didn’t have much to worry about in that regard. Though healthy and within the eighteen-to-forty recruitment range, she had the added benefit of being part of the King��s court. Specifically as Queen Damselle’s Storyteller.

Rye Nichols was a gentle giant sort, though. That mere fact made Novella’s heart twinge with an ache. War would not be kind to him.

“A full reading will take time…” Novella winced, scratching the side of her cheek as she considered her options. Generally, her patrons gave her time to complete a full story. Usually three to five days. The muffins wouldn’t last that long and making a worried mother wait didn’t feel right to Novella, either.

There was another way, though. Offering Mrs. Nichols a smile, Novella suggested as she held up three fingers, “How about a quick outline for three muffins?”

“Alright, I just wanna know if he’ll return in one piece and be all right in the head,” said the older woman as she gathered three separate muffins, wrapping two in cloth and providing a plate for the last one.

Novella offered Mrs. Nichols an encouraging smile before collecting her treats and going to sit at a table, tucked away into a corner. From her large bag, she withdrew her tools: a sheaf of paper, a steel pen, and an inkwell.

Around her, curious whispers ballooned around her as inquisitive eyes flicker to her. Another common occurrence. Interested parties, realizing she was the Storyteller, observing her work. In the beginning, such reactions made her self-conscious. Now, not so much. Though the heat of awkwardness still sank heavily in her stomach.

As Novella wrote, she nibbled at her muffin, saving the other two for later, and sipped at a mug of tea she had bought from Mrs. Nichols. Every so often, she’d pause from scrawling on the paper. Her eyes would close, though those watching saw the faint glow behind her eyelids and at her hands. She’d continue writing, before opening her eyes and finishing the segment she was working on.

A little over an hour later, Novella looked over her work. She skimmed some lines, double-checking she hadn’t misspelled anything or her word choice didn’t give the wrong impression. For a quick outline, it passed.

Novella collected her tools, placing them carefully in her bag, before standing and approaching the counter once more.

“There are two paths that feel the most likely,” she explained as Mrs. Nichols rushed to where Novella placed the papers. “If you peel these papers apart, you may send one to Rye, if you like.”

Novella demonstrated the bit of ingenious magic, which wasn’t truly magic but simply something created by the dwarves and alchemists of the city, but pulling her copy from the other two pages. Novella always kept a copy for herself. Sometimes, it would verify her readings correct. Other times, she needed something in case court was held and she was a witness or, heavens forbid, a defendant.

“Thank you kindly, ma’am!” Mrs. Nichols accepted the paper with a wide grin on her ruddy face.

With a nod and a smile, Novella turned and left the bakery, throwing a parting wave to Mrs. Nichols. The worried mother was already reading the outline, brow pinched. Her image disappeared behind the closing door as Novella turned back to the street.

Back in direct sun, Novella tried to shake off the residual grime of peering into such a dreadful setting. War. With its training and tears and trenches. The ghostly wail of war planes above, the bone-shuddering booms of explosives, the screams and sobs and desperation.

She liked to keep her stories light and personal. Preferably in the romance genre, but there were many other questions to be had by others. Though, even those had become rife with wartime dressing in the recent months. It was impossible to escape.

“My darling Novella, there you are!” A grand blue carriage, ornamented in gold, pulled up alongside the Storyteller, a woman’s blonde head poking out of the window.

With a rushed curtsy, Novella greeted her friend, trying to ignore the bug-eyed curious stares of those around them. “Queen Damselle, what an honor.”

“Wait right there!” The woman’s head disappeared back into the carriage and, after much shuffling, the head - and the attached body - exited the vehicle with help from a footman.

Queen Damselle Campion-Light always cut such a fine figure among the nobility, she looked positively resplendent while on the streets. Dressed in a voluminous light blue dress which matched her eyes and paired with a large hat of similar coloration, she was a bit of clear sky drawn down from the heavens. Her golden curls appeared all the more vibrant against the contrasting colors.

“Have you been seeking me, my queen?” Novella smiled softly at Damselle, her head inclined a little with curiosity.

“Yes, yes!” She grasped Novella by the shoulders, a huge smile on her own painted lips. “I heard there is a matchmaking game to be held today as part of the festivities and I thought of you!”

Something in Novella dropped at the Queen’s words. She blinked uncomprehendingly, though a smile still tilted at her lips. “Matchmaking?”

Pulling away from Novella, the queen pressed her hands to her own chest as she leaned closer. “You mentioned having trouble finding a stimulating romance.”

“I wouldn’t put it that way,” Novella gasped, a flush threatening to spill over her cheeks. Glancing around, potential eavesdroppers were hurriedly walking away, hands to their lips as if to hide smiles.

“Before I lose you to my wife’s frippery, perhaps you will help me for a moment.” From inside the carriage, King Gastun Light leaned out and beckoned Novella inside.

After casting a look to Queen Damselle - who waved her away, saying she wanted to explore the wares of a nearby vendor - Novella climbed into the carriage with the king. Half-aware, she noticed a couple guards, stationed behind the carriage, peel away to keep an eye on Her Majesty. As Novella settled into her seat, the vehicle pulled from the curb.

It was commonplace for the King to prefer movement, rather than discussing at a standstill.

“What may I be of assistance with, Your Majesty?” She guessed he might ask what to get his wife for her upcoming birthday. Or perhaps asking for a reading for a yet-announced betrothal for Prince Sentinel.

He turned shrewd green eyes on her, though a pleasant smile curled beneath his reddish beard. She tried to ease under his attention, but it was always difficult. Novella simply chalked it up to him being a king, an authority over everyone and everything around her. She couldn’t help but feel there was another sensation, making her bones shiver.

“I was hoping to get your opinion on a battle strategy.” King Gastun leaned his elbows onto his knees, lacing his fingers together in front of his mouth. Serious, somber, hopeful. Novella caught a glimpse of a litany of feelings within the man’s eyes.

Carefully, Novella schooled her reaction. Though she had never been on the receiving end of the king’s ire, she didn’t want to start now. Which was always a concern, whenever he toed the line of her own rules.

Folding her own hands in her lap and sitting straighter, Novella pressed her lips firmly together before speaking. Her quiet voice took on a firm edge as she asked, “My opinion or a reading?”

King Gastun flashed her a charming smile, one which eased many diplomats and visiting nobles in the past. The firm set of his shoulders, even hunched over as he was, eased at being found out. “Yes, I suppose I mean a reading.”

“You know my rules, my liege.” Novella’s face tensed, a stern expression hardening her features. The king had attempted to sway her guidelines in the past, to varying degrees of determination. She just hoped this was one of those times he’d back down easily. “I only read for personal inquiries or small business ventures. Nothing political, including military movements.”

“Ah, but this is personal!” King Gastun smiled broadly, as if he had figured out the solution to a particularly troublesome riddle. Sitting straighter, his hands moved as if ti illustrate his words. “If I fail our empire, my family will bear the brunt of retaliation.”

Untrue, Novella thought to herself as she pressed her lips tightly together. Many less-fortunate had already suffered and will continue to suffer after the war commenced. A number of common-folk had been drafted for the trenches and, spidering from those, many more were affected. Parents missing children; children missing parents; fiancees missing lovers; friends being parted.

Novella’s heart ached, considering how many were already affected. Their stories needled at her thoughts, desiring attention, but she shook them away. She just couldn’t deal with that. There was a reason for her rules.

Instead of voicing this observation, Novella simply shook her head. “I’m sorry. I will not budge on this decision.”

There was a long moment where the king simply stared at her. An uncomfortable heat clawed up her back, like a cat making a scratching post of her flesh. The discomfort ticked higher as King Gastun sighed. Thankfully, he only leaned back in his seat, casting a rueful smile at her. A little verve drained from his now-softened tone. “Quite alright. I just thought it was worth an attempt.”

“I understand.” Weakly, Novella smiled at the man, knowing full well he’d do anything for his family and his country. More the former than the latter, though. Could she fault him for his continual requests to break her own rules? Perhaps, but that felt unfair.

As long as he respected her boundaries, Novella had no problem with the occasional attempt, she supposed.

“In that case,” King Gastun slapped his knees as he leaned forward once more. A sparkle glinted in his eye. For a brief moment, caught by those eyes, Novella could almost forget this was a man spearheading a war. “May I ask what I should get as a gift for my wife? I have it narrowed down to three options.”

Her shoulders slumped with relief, the strain whooshing from her very soul.

“Yes, I can help with that.” Novella eased, back on the familiar footing. She had done this sort of reading - determining what gift would illicit the most desired effect - many times for a number of clients, including the king.

Queen Damselle loved getting any kind of gift, quite frankly. In all honesty, Novella often found it difficult to discern which gift would bring about the most joy.

The fact the king was so concerned, double-checking his choosings, was actually very sweet. Of course, he could have afforded to give her everything he chose. Once, Novella mentioned this to him, and he chuckled, saying the unchosen gifts would grace Her Majesty on days she needed something to brighten the spirit. Again, rather sweet of him, Novella thought.

As King Gastun described the items, Novella let the waves of the world’s energy wash over her. Slowly, images of the gifts took root and she could clearly picture Queen Damselle in each piece.

A delighted Damselle showing her new amethyst earrings off at a royal luncheon. The other ladies in attendance fawning over her.

Damselle throwing herself at King Gastun in an embrace, an overjoyed smile on her lips as the red necklace glistened at her throat. Happy tears glisten in her eyes as the king swings her around in exaltation.

Oddly, Damselle appeared less exuberant, toying with a large sapphire ring as she sat in her room. Alone.

Something seemed off in her last vision, but Novella couldn’t quite put her finger on it. It did not matter, in the end, she supposed. As she opened her eyes, the images dissipated. The insides of the carriage came back into focus, her eyes instantly catching King Gastun’s intense look.

“The ruby necklace.” Novella smiled at him, her hands still clasped firmly in her lap. “I saw great joy from that choice.”

“How interesting…” Gastun muttered to himself as he thoughtfully stroked his beard. In their momentary lull, the rattle of the carriage and the muffled strains of a violin squeezed into the small space. .

She wasn’t sure how interesting such a conclusion was. Queen Damselle was fond of jewelry of any sort. “How so?”

“Oh!” The King looked up at her, as if his thoughts had been a hundred miles away. For a second, his expression was reminiscent of a child caught with his hand in a cookie jar, but that quickly passed as a warm smile twisted under his beard. “It’s just interesting, since she usually prefers blue sapphires.”

“Oh, yes. That is true!” Her thoughts lolled over the various shades of blue Damselle often enjoyed donning. From periwinkle to sky to lush navy. The amount of blue she wore often far exceeded red and Novella was willing to bet her jewelry casks showed that same pattern. “Sometimes, something unexpected freshens the day!”

“That it does, that it does.” King Gastun nodded at her words, as if she had said something rather profound than particularly obvious. It was at that moment, Novella felt the lurch of the carriage slow. It wasn’t long after that observation that the vehicle stopped entirely and the door opened. “Thank you, Storyteller.”

“My pleasure, Your Majesty,” intoned Novella, as she had many times before. Though something squirmed in her thoughts. Something she thought she should realize. With a shake of her head, she shrugged it off as nerves. The king, as kind and fair as he was, always made her skin itch with uncertainty. It was simply the sheer authority he exuded.

When her feet finally hit cobbles again, Queen Damselle was there to intercept her. Novella’s eyes were still trying to adjust from the dark interior of the carriage to the brightened streets. The Queen laced her fingers around Novella’s elbow with firm determination. “Now that my stuffy husband is done with you, you simply must go to this matchmaking event!”

[kissmetwicekissmedeadly]

KAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT

my annual sweet sweet time of death has come ahhhhh the pearly gates i see them.....

LISTEN YOU OUTDID YOURSELF THIS TIME

ofc all your ideas are genius but this??? not only did i NOT see it coming in this form, but until the very end it kept on surprising me. Now that I think about it this must be the best way to handle this prompt with napo??? i was intrigued about how you're gonna make him a porn star, but this is even better. Suits him better. Oh my god. I loved the detail about reader being cautious even with someone she chatted with for years! This is very important. Him having a thing for feet AND asking for panties is so much like you, i can't even be mad. you just had to put it in there, huh. I'm afraid people are gonna start thinking those are his canon kinks because of you...........

AND OFC THE BIG SURPRISE, the dildo is a replica of his cock. I DIED. how did you come up with this??? i feel like he'd do smth like that for sure. it's just his brand of possessiveness, and there's something so cool that he's finding a way to be like that while reader still shows herself to strangers. Kat you keep making me discover new things i never knew i enjoyed.... His instructions over DMs too, that's very much like him, he's a lot into dirty talk and the subtle dominance is there too...lip bite emoji...

man i'd do everything he asks me to😩

who said that

ANYWAY your endnotes..... PLEASE. KAT. THIS WAS AMAZING. Im totally encouraging you to explore nuances of the prompts and go with the first idea you came up with even if it doesn't match the prompt 100%. Seriously, if you were to rewrite this whole thing in a "proper" porn actors au, i would have never thought of THIS scenario! i treasure it. i treasure everything you write, for me or otherwise, i wish i didn't suck so much with responding to things on time. I love you. And i hate you for the cuck comment. And yes i do remember what you're referring and i get it......

Kinktober Day 1

AND WE'RE BACK FOR A FOURTH TIME. It's that lovely time of the year where I write mediocre smut with no plot for a whole month. So sit your ass down and take a few minutes to read some smut.

As always, kinktober is held by our local Napoleon simp, @xxsycamore

If you'd like to read the last three years, go here

Remember to reblog and tell me what you think

Porn Star Au | One Night Stand

You've been doing this for a while now. It started as just some extra money on the side and now it's like a full time job.

Working a camsite started in college and you earned so much you nearly dropped out. There are a few users that are always your top fans. But there is one in particular that really seems to get off to you.

You've chatted in dm's a few times and he's even paid you enough for personal videos. His name is Napoleon, or at least it's the name he told you. You are pretty sure he has a thing for feet, and he's asked for your underwear a few times. But who are you to judge you live stream yourself masturbating and groping yourself.

A few days ago Napoleon dm'ed you for a request. Not a private video or even for you to send him something. He wants to send you a toy to use on a live stream.

You were worried at first. You have a wish list of things that people occasionally buy from but this was different. He apparently already had the item. So you quickly got yourself a P.O. box and told him to ship it there. Even if you two have been chatting for a few years you still can't fully trust someone online. Not on a camsite.

So now you're sitting on your bed with the box. Luckily he didn't ask you to open it on live stream, you're too nervous about what it could be.

Carefully you open it, and shift through the packaging. You find a dildo and a note. It was kept short. He used one of those 'clone-a-willy' kits to make a silicone version of his dick.

You look back at the dildo and pause for a moment. "Maybe I should have let you come over."

The note said that he wanted you to use it on live stream so that others would watch his cock fucking you.

You've got to admit that's pretty hot. Maybe a little creepy to anyone else. But it's hot. Damn. Does that mean he likes when people watch too? That shouldn't be surprising, he watches you.

You quickly open up your chat to thank him for it. He is probably busy with work right now but you let him know that you'll be streaming tonight and using it.

It's strange. He's just someone online who sends you money, but you also know his schedule and what his life is like.

~~

Later you start to stream. Your camera is set up and you start it. You are sitting there in a lingerie set, typing out a caption for a video. You make sure even if people come in late they know this is a fans dick you are using.

You've done this so many times that you aren't even nervous. You wait until people start entering the stream before explaining.

"My biggest supporter on here made a replica of his cock for me," you hold it up to show the size of it. "Now I'm thinking I should have just invited him over," you giggle a little. "So tonight you guys get to watch his cock fuck me," you more further back on the bed and lean over. "But first."

You place the dildo upright on the bed and lick the shaft up to the tip. You drag your tongue across it a few times before taking it into your mouth, moaning as you do. You bob your head up and down, occasionally looking up at the camera, checking the chat. You would be looking for Napoleon's messages, but you actually have your dm's open.

Without letting the stream know, he's telling you what to do.

You can take more of my cock. Come on. Let me feel the back of your throat

After reading the message you take more of the dildo in your mouth. You stick your ass up in the air as your head bobs up and down.

You've never had this thought before but right now you're wishing it was a real cock. You moaned as the tip hit the back of your throat. Your tongue lapped over the veins that were popping out.

You lifted your head up, tongue hanging out of your mouth, strands of saliva keeping you and the tip connected. You glance down at your personal chat.

Good girl. I wish I could really feel your lips around my cock.

Now sit on it and ride me

You have something just for this. You have a strap that goes around a pillow, and you're able to attach a dildo to it to ride it easier. You tested it earlier to make sure it fits and luckily it does.

With drool at the corner of your lips you set up the dildo and hover over it. As you sit yourself down you let out a moan. You get it all the way in you before you start rocking your hips.

With your hands on your thighs you squeeze them.

How does my cock feel?

"Oh fuck. It's so deep," you gasp. One of your hands goes up your body to grope yourself. Your moan louder, squeezing yourself.

You start going up and down on the dildo. Your moans only get louder as the toy pushes its way deeper into you.

"Ungh. Fuck your cock is great," you push your hair out of your face and fuck yourself harder, coming down quicker.

You're breathing picks up the harder you go.

Say my name when you cum~

You look at the message and move your hand from your thigh and start rubbing your clit for more stimulation.

"Ahh-hh!" You hit a good spot and your body inches closer to finishing.

You feel like you're reaching your climax quicker than usual. If this is what the dildo is like, then what can his actual dick do?

"F-fuck, oh fuck!" You grope yourself harder and moan louder. "N-Napoleon!" You come down on the toy as hard as you can for the final push, getting yourself to cum.

You pant lightly. You haven't even looked at the live stream chat, only your dm's.

Why don't you take that toy off the pillow and fuck yourself with it.

You do as he says. Taking the dildo off and laying back, thrusting the toy into you. The only things that can be heard are your moans and the wet noises of the toy entering your hole.

~~

Writers note: I REALLY REALLY REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE THIS MO. I was nervous about this not really being a porn star au, but it's really the only idea I had fully thought out. I hate that I couldn't really think of something where he is actually there. But I guess we can add Napoleon being a bit of a cuck to the list. Also reminds me of Sara's old cursed relic fics oddly enough

[cksmart-world]

SMART BOMB

The completely unnecessary news analysis

by Christopher Smart

Jan. 3, 2023

UTAH'S 10 BEST NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS

1 – Sen. Mike Lee: Pretend not to know Trump's chief of staff, Mark Meadows.

2 – Sen. Mitt Romney: Pretend not to know Mike Lee.

3 – Rep. Burgess Owens: Concoct new ways Democrats are destroying America's soul.

4 – Mayor Erin Mendenhall: Ignore mayoral challenger Rocky Anderson.

5 – Former Mayor Rocky Anderson: Don't let Erin Mendenhall ignore you.

6 – Gov. Spencer Cox: Stop talking trash about the Outdoor Retailer trade show now that they're coming back to Utah despite Republican opposition to Bears Ears etc.

7 – A.G. Sean Reyes: Get invited to more international soccer matches. Say you're looking for trafficked women.

8 – Utah Senate President Stuart Adams: Go to more soccer matches with Reyes. Say it's for international trade.

9 – Utah Football Coach Kyle Wittingham: Ask for another raise, $6 million isn't nearly enough.

10 – LDS President Russell Nelson: Get a revelation that it's OK to say “Mormon” again.

ONLY LITTLE PEOPLE PAY TAXES

The cat's out of the bag: In 2016 and again in 2017, Donald Trump paid $750 in federal income taxes. Trump paid zero taxes in 10 of the previous 15 years. That's one helluva cat. As Leona Helmsley once said: “Only little people pay taxes.” Yes Wilson, you and the band are little people. For 2008 and 2009, Trump declared $1 billion in loses and got a $72.9 million refund from previous taxes. It's all on the up and up — or is it. Trump's taxes are such a can of worms that the IRS couldn't (or wouldn't) figure them out. One thing is for sure, tax accountants can be worth their weight in gold — yes, literally. According to the news organization, ProPublica, the 25 top American billionaires increased their wealth by $401 billion from 2014 to 2018, but paid a federal income tax rate of only 3.4 percent. The median American household earned about $70,000 annually and paid 14 percent in federal taxes. Jeff Bezos paid no federal income taxes for the years 2007 and 2011. His wealth increased by $127 billion from 2006 to 2018, while he paid a tax rate of 1.1 percent. Not only does Congress not care that the richest of the rich pay little to no taxes but they want to hang the dirty S.O.B. who leaked to ProPublica. Poor billionaires getting their dirty laundry aired out like that. What is the world coming to.

IT'S A BIRD, IT'S A PLANE — NO IT'S AN OLIGARCH

The weirdest thing, Russian elites just keep falling out of windows. That they were all critics of Vladimir Putin's war in Ukraine is just coincidental. And we thought Trump was mean. Imagine this headline: “Tragic coincidence, Mark Zuckerberg, Warren Buffett, Michael Bloomberg and Elon Musk all fell out of windows to their deaths.” Hmmm. Oh well, what are you going to do. That seems to be the attitude in Russia where at least a dozen big shots have died since the Ukraine incursion in March. The Dutch news network NOS described the coincidences as "a grim series of Russian billionaires, many from the oil and gas industries, who have been found dead in unusual circumstances...” In Putin's Russia, “unusual” is not so unusual. USA Today concluded that 38 Russian businessmen died mysteriously between 2014 and 2017. Darn the luck. Maybe it was Covid. Remember U.S. Attorney General Jeff Sessions, who recused himself from investigating Russian interference into the 2016 election. A furious Trump called him a “dumb Southerner” and “mentally retarded.” But Sessions didn't die mysteriously, although Trump did kill his career. Our politics may be blood sport, but in Putin's Russia there is little blood and no fingerprints but many coincidences.

Post script — That's it for another wonderful year here at Smart Bomb where we keep track of Donald Trump's legal problems so you don't have to. Let's see, there were all those top secret documents he spirited away to Mar-A-Lago; there's the little matter of Trump leading a coup to remain in power; in a recorded call he demanded the  Georgia secretary of state “find” enough votes to win that state; Trump still faces the possibility of criminal charges against him personally as part of the Manhattan D.A.'s Office investigation into fraud allegations. We could go on but there's only so much time in a day. Happy New Year, Mr. Trump. BREAKING NEWS! It rained in California and when it rains, it pours. Ain't it the truth. Last weekend's storm brought 70 inches of snow to Alta, Utah. From our “Stinkers”-file: George Santos, the recently elected Republican congressman from Long Island, has been caught lying — not just lying, but lying and lying and lying. You're right Wilson, we not sure that's news, either. And finally this from the letters to The Salt Lake Tribune: “In what universe does any rational life-form care about what is happening to the cast of the show 'The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City'? For the love of all that is holy, please stop reporting on their pathetic lives.”

Well Wilson, what do you think, is this year going to be better than 2022? Some good things did happen last year, it's just that the staff here at Smart Bomb can't think of any. You and the guys in the band usually have a pretty good attitude, like you're high on life... or something. So take us out with hopeful song for 2023:

What would you think if I sang out of tune Would you stand up and walk out on me? Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song And I'll try not to sing out of key Oh I get by with a little help from my friends Mm I get high with a little help from my friends Mm gonna try with a little help from my friends What do I do when my love is away? Does it worry you to be alone? How do I feel by the end of the day? Are you sad because you're on your own? No I get by with a little help from my friends Mm I get high with a little help from my friends Mm gonna try with a little help from my friends Do you need anybody? I need somebody to love Could it be anybody? I want somebody to love Would you believe in a love at first sight? Yes I'm certain that it happens all the time What do you see when you turn out the light? I can't tell you, but I know it's mine Oh I get by with a little help from my friends Mm I get high with a little help from my friends Oh I'm gonna try with a little help from my friends (With A Little Help From My Friends — The Beatles)

[alittlebitofeverythingtbh]

Corey Hc’s

Authors Note: Some HC’s about Corey. This is just in general but could also be tied into my series at some point.

Corey absolutely loves cuddles. You’re doing homework? Not anymore, boy needs his cuddles. He will whine and complain if you have to stop cuddling for any reason. Except maybe if your house was on fire. Besides that? No moving ;(

Corey learns how to cook for you. He knew some basic stuff before but he wants to treat you the best he can. And he knows food is always a good route to take. I can see him specializing in breakfast items. He will wake you up by putting a plate of bacon and eggs in front of you. You have breakfast in bed at least three times a week.

If for some reason he can’t cook (you’re out of cooking supplies, he got beat up, etc) he will pick you up your favorite takeout. Corey doesn’t go out to eat with you as much until after his run in with Michael, so he will bring you home food. He will absolutely go get you a burger and milkshake if you ask him nicely. And if you’re sick? Don’t worry, he’s picked you up like three smoothies.

Corey loves to just sit and listen to music with you. He’s made you a playlist consisting of songs that remind him of you as well as songs he likes in general. He likes to share his music interests with you and will absolutely listen to anything you recommend. Even if it’s not his genre, he will listen to it because you recommended it.

While he likes horror movies, he’s the type to go “oh gross” whenever there’s something gross on screen. He starts getting used to them more and more (he’s no longer phased after his run in with Michael) but he still makes a remark here and there. It makes you laugh.

Corey takes you for late night rides on his motorcycle. It’s freeing since it’s just you two, and he loves the way you hold onto him. Once, you fell asleep while he drove around because it was late and you had work. And Corey was so unbelievably soft for you as he listened to you sleep. He did stop the ride after a bit though because he was worried you would let go of him. And he does NOT want you in an accident.

Corey loves to take you to the annual fair every year. He tries his best to win you all the cute stuffed animal prizes but his luck varies. Sometimes he’s won you enough that you struggle to carry them while other times he is only able to get you a small one. He feels very sad when he doesn’t have a lot of luck. If they serve Dippin Dots, he is booking it to them. That boy LOVES Dippin Dots, and he will get a big one to split with you.

Corey is like a portable heater. If you get cold easy, he will just wrap his big arms around you to keep you warm. Is he cold himself? Maybe a little. But he does not want you to freeze to death…or just, be cold in general.

Corey loves giving you his shirts and coats to wear. It’s not just a mark that you’re his, but he thinks you look so cute in them. Walking around the house in just his shirt? He dies of cuteness overload. And then jumps you- I mean what. Who said that.

For Halloween, please get matching costumes with him. It makes him so incredibly happy when you match your costume with his. He will take you to Spirit Halloween and pick stuff out. It’s a cute kinda date where you two probably blow all your money on costume stuff but it’s okay! He will pay for it all.

That’s a problem with Corey: he tries to pay for your stuff whenever he can. And even if you aren’t gonna get something, he knows whenever you like something. That necklace you picked up and looked at for a while? Yeah, he’s picking it up after you walk away and putting it into his little basket. I feel like he’s super sneaky getting you stuff too. Whenever he’s picking out birthday presents or Christmas gifts, he makes little mental notes of stuff you like. And then he comes back the next day and buys it for you. If it’s gone? Don’t ask why he’s sad at your doorstep. He can’t tell you.

[rayshippouuchiha]

Yamada: so how did you and izuku start dating

Aizawa: I saw him crush a watermelon with his thighs and I accidentally said out loud “oh god I wish that were me right now” and here we are now

~The way this immediately and completely ate my entire brain~

Of three things Aizawa Shouta is absolutely sure:

One, he simply was not built for operating during the daylight hours. Nighttime really is where it's at in his opinion. The general lack of crowds and eye-searing sunlight just can't be beaten. (Dusk and dawn hours also get a pass but they're both on thin ice.)

Two, the beach is a sandy hell-scape whose only redeeming factor is the convenient access it provides to the eldritch horror that is the ocean aka the place he'll doubtlessly end up drowning himself when he finally, and according to Hizashi inevitably, snaps and runs gibbering mad into the abyss.

And three, he's absolutely and irrevocably cursed. He's being singled out and punished from on high by the gods themselves. His name is writ large across the cosmos in mockery. There is a cosmic "kick me" sign taped to his spiritual back and Shouta's going to hunt his former student Sero down and give him detention for life for encouraging his family's patron god to put it there.

By this point it's really the only logical explanation.

Which, as a card-carrying atheist, he's pretty sure is saying something about the depth of his feelings regarding his current circumstances.

Because there's no other explanation for why or how he's managed to find himself in this current situation.

The situation being, of course, Shouta, in full hero gear, standing in the hot sun on a pristine sandy beach, surrounded by screaming fans as he provides extra security and crowd control for the 20th Annual Heroic Sukiwari Charity Drive.

Shouta has seen hell and it is both Ms. Joke's open mic night and this exact moment right here.

Because, again, he's absolutely 100% cursed.

And the avatar of said curse is, obviously, his soon-to-be ex-best friend who somehow roped him into this entire thing.

Because some people say divine retribution when talking about cosmic revenge plots but Shouta tends to just says Yamada Hizashi. The two are, in many ways, interchangeable.

Shouta's going to put purify salts in all of Hizashi's hair products and also his sugar jar and possibly his energy drinks the next chance he gets.

Because if he never sees another shirtless pro-hero or another watermelon again in his life it'll be too soon.

He's pretty sure he has permanent hearing damage from all of the screaming and screeching the crowd's been doing since this thing started.

And if, after all these years of friendship with the personification of a megaphone, watching a bunch of pro's crush watermelons with nothing but their personal strength on a beach to raise money for various charities is what finally destroys his hearing Shouta is going to shave Hizashi bald before he finally embraces sweet death.

Or enacts Nezu's birthday plans and becomes a supervillain.

The jury's honestly still out at this point.

Shouta does his best to shut out the screaming behind him as one of the cameramen slides up beside him, getting a better angle on the stage as Hizashi, who's currently screeching about Miruko's performance, practically dances across the sand in front of where Shouta's standing.

"Wow, wow, wow," Present Mic chants as he dramatically fans himself, "that was one on heart-stopping, hare-raising show. Let's give it up for everyone's favorite bad, bad, bunny, Miruko!"

For her part, Miruko just struts off the small stage with a nonchalant wave to the crowd, her tiny white bikini in place and the pulverized remains of the half dozen watermelons she'd dropped kicked into soup left behind her.

"But don't lose that rhythm yet listeners," Mic announces gleefully. "Because we've got one more hero set to take the stage! So, without further ado, it's the moment I know a lot of you have been waiting for, myself included if we're being honest. The pièce de résistance of our little shindig, the showstopper himself, the one, the only, the #1 Can Do Hero Dekiru."

The crowd is absolutely deafening.

And, for once, Shouta has to grudgingly admit that he can't actually blame them.

Shirtless, sculpted shoulders and tight abs on display thanks to his low sitting and almost criminally short green swim shorts, and with his trademark bashful smile in place, Dekiru trots out from behind the curtained-off area with a crate of watermelons resting on his shoulder like it's no big deal.

Shouta's pretty sure someone to his immediate right faints but considering they're not currently a trample risk he ignores it.

But the casual show of strength with no quirk use in sight is more than a bit impressive.

For all that people, romance specifically, and attraction in general, have all been things to be considered on a firm case-by-case basis for Shouta, even he has to admit that Dekiru is ... captivating.

Rather drastically so for Shouta considering he's never actually met the man before in person.

Though Shouta does feel like he almost knows him on some level considering the fact that it really would take an act of the actual gods to get Yagi to shut up about his erstwhile protege during staff meetings.

Dekiru waves his free hand at the crowd as he sets his crate of watermelons down on the stage.

"Show us what you've got!" Mic demands from a few feet to Shouta's left. "And let's give him some encouragement listeners!"

The crowd starts up a loud and steady chant of "De~ki~ru!" as the hero pulls his first watermelon out and begins his set.

With an effortless flex of muscles, Dekiru digs his fingers into the watermelon and wrenches it completely in two.

Shouta reaches up to tug at the top of his uniform, relishing the small sip of cool air it grants him.

Shoulders and biceps flexing, another watermelon meets its end between Dekiru's palms.

Shouta really needs to add a water bottle to his utility belt because hydration is important. Or so he's been repeatedly told.

"Those hands, those muscles," Mic groans dramatically. "He really is the Can Do Hero!"

Cheeks noticeably flushed, Dekiru sits down on the stage and fits a watermelon between thick, toned thighs.

His hips twist, those thighs flex, and the watermelon cracks, spilling juice and sweet pink flesh all over Dekiru's lap.

"Oh god," Shouta can't help but say, "I wish that was me right now."

On stage Dekiru's eyes go wide as his attention somehow abruptly zero's in on Shouta.

It's at that moment that Shouta becomes aware of the deafening silence that's fallen over the beach.

Head-turning agonizingly slowly to the left, Shouta's confronted with the sight of Mic, microphone in hand, standing shoulder to shoulder with him.

His sunglasses are askew and he's staring at Shouta with a look on his face that's one part horror and one part unholy glee.

As a matter of fact, the entire beach is staring at him in much the same way.

For a moment Shouta just freezes, body going still at having so much attention turned in his direction.

This ... was not the turn he was expecting the day to take by far.

His first instinct is to, honestly, use his scarf to slingshot himself directly into the sun so his soul can be cleansed with cosmic fire.

But then ...

"Ah," Dekiru speaks up from on the stage, one hand ruffling the back of his hair and cheeks darker than before, "maybe we could go on a date first though? If you'd like?"

There's suddenly a part of Shouta that doesn't actually want to delete himself from existence via self-immolation.

And there's an even large part that doesn't want to outright reject Dekiru's seemingly sincere offer.

Because, when it all comes down to it, Dekiru seems to be, by all accounts, what passes for exactly Shouta's type.

Whip-smart if his very public arrest record and tendency to argue online and on the air with people he disagrees with is anything to go by.

Cute, with that dark green hair and sharp undercut, matching wide eyes, and a face sprinkled liberally with freckles.

Leanly built and small enough that Shouta's sure he could move him around easily but obviously muscular enough to be able to put up just the right amount of resistance in the right situation.

And, above all else, if the stories are to be believed, obviously some degree of batshit insane.

More than one story Yagi had told during breaks had Shouta questioning if the man had imported special American demons back to Japan and then stuffed them all into the deceptively charming and approachable-looking hero that is Dekiru.

So there's really only one logical way to proceed forward in this situation.

Shouta grins.

Several people in the crowd around him step back.

He's pretty sure he hears someone start reciting a prayer.

But Dekiru just blushes, eyes locked on Shouta's and teeth tugging at his lower lip.

"Hope you like coffee," Shouta finally says into the breathless silence that's fallen over them, "and cats."

Dekiru lights up, a smile brighter than the sun and twice as deadly blossoming across his face.

Just off of Shouta's side, Hizashi's busy having some kind of hysterical seizure.

Around them the crowd is going absolutely feral.

Yagi's going to birth actual kittens in the middle of the staff room when he finds out about this.

Shouta can't wait.

[theseasasleep]

Love Between Fairy and Devil (ep 27, part 2)

Everything about Rong's childhood resurrection and Chidi Woman's reaction to seeing him is sus. So what? She knew him in a previous life? He's her kid? A fallen, sinful immortal she smuggled into Fairyland as just her latest kid disciple? Nothing to see here, I promise! Has he always betrayed her? Inquiring minds... are mildly curious.

Whoa.

Another great shot: as Rong and Changheng are about to speak specifically to their friendship, they shoot the two men through the haze of a gauze divider. It's only right. The true relationship between them is murky and ill-defined. Well, really, it always has been but now it's out in the open, in the light. They remain nominally on the same side in that Changheng thoroughly understands Rong's motivations - even more so now, in light of his current rebellion - but there is distance between them due to ideologies and especially because Rong is still hiding his intentions to sacrifice Changheng's beloved for his.

Really?! These fairy assholes remembered to annually celebrate a lying ass festival commemorating "the death" of the Moon Supreme yet couldn't be bothered to show up to Chidi Woman's gravesite once in 30,000 years?! Not even just a guilty little popover on the way to fatuously congratulating themselves for a victory they weren't responsible for?!?!!??!!!! I'm not pissed, you're... No, I'm pissed. To me, this provides excellent reasons for burning Fairyland down, not everybody else.

Oh, Changheng, you stupid pup: don't trust him. Oh , idiot. You just took him right where he wants to be.

Lord, is Changheng basically suiciding by cop?! Lol, did his brother admit without the slightest bit of shame that he's only staying his hand because no one besides Changheng even comes close to matching Dongfang pound for pound? Oh my God, look at that mewling desperation! Dongfang is right: what a bunch of losers.

Well, go on with your bad self, Changheng! Thank you for being bearable.

[yuzukult]

drive safe (m) || bbh x reader

title: drive safe pairing: baekhyun x reader genre: brothersbestfriend!au, chanyeol!olderbrother, romance warnings: slight rated 18+ scene, but it’s short and poorly written  words: 12.4k prompt: simply put, you’ve been crushing on your brother’s best friend for the longest time but he hasn’t seen you in a while... and you’ve grown.  notes: needed something different to write :) please enjoy... i did another brother’s best friend au bc i just love baekhyun in that kind of au lmao... I FINALLY UPLOADED!!!

He was heavily intoxicating. From the whiff of the cologne he wears to the way his lips look, so tempting and plump, all the way to the sweet melodic laugh that escapes from his throat, hand on his toned chest to contain himself.

This man was beautiful—correction— is beautiful, and has always been since you’ve laid your eyes on him.

You recall those days staying in the living room until the late hours of the night; coffee table filled with loose papers and opened textbooks to cram in for your exams, room lacking a desk for you to work on. Your brother would trail into your home once the street lights turn on, friends joining him occasionally, none capturing your attention until you met him one night.

Mocha eyes that sparkled under the dim lights at the front steps, caramel hair that looked so unbelievably soft, that you had to restrain yourself down from asking him to just let you run your fingers through those locks. Jawline chiseled, cheekbones high, and ears flushing coral when he gets embarrassed—he was just breathtakingly beautiful. And when he leans over to see what you’re currently engrossed in, supple cheeks raising as high as the sky from his smile, teeth pearly white and exposed, his gentle voice hypnotizes you to the point that you almost miss when he says his name.

“I’m Byun Baekhyun.” How the hell is he so pretty? “You must be Chanyeol’s little sister.”

Your Cloud 9 experience disappears at the sound of your brother’s name. It’s like he loves to burst the bubble of any type of happiness your way. He never fails to ruin things for you.

Then again, that was back when you were 16 and he was 22. He was in college, finishing up the remaining time he had left while you were just a mere high school student—not to mention that you were also his best friend’s little sister. This time, you’re 22 and he’s the 28 year old, finished college with a career outlined for him and you’re the one trying to finish up the last year.

So when Baekhyun stands at the threshold of your parent’s house behind Chanyeol, mouth agape at the mere sight of you, he’s in complete shock at how much you’ve grown and changed in the past years. To say the least, he hasn’t seen much of you around since you turned 18... and well, he was regretting missing the glow up.

“Why are you looking at my sister like that?” Chanyeol hisses, pushing his friend’s chest back with a finger. “You act like you’ve never seen her before.” Baekhyun can only shake his head from his thoughts, clearing his throat. “I haven’t seen her since she left for college.”

A hum from you fills the air, grasping the attention of the two males. “I’ve been back every holiday, not my fault you haven’t been around.”

Turning on your heel, you make your way past them, slipping into a pair of random sandals at the front door before greeting the rest of your family members that begin to trickle in for the annual family dinner. Every year is dreadful, but this year got interesting just from Baekhyun’s attendance.

He was every high school girl’s wet dream.

And at the same time, dream boyfriend.

He’s cute yet he’s got this aura around him that just makes him so... sexy. You recall having high school friends over during those younger years and when Baekhyun and Chanyeol would walk through the front doors, your friends would drool at the sight of the boys. You couldn’t really agree on the Chanyeol portion of that (obviously), but your saliva would run rivers length long at the appearance of Baekhyun.

What was even worse was that both your brother and dad were horrible at teaching you how to drive. This was after you’ve concluded that you had a crush on Baekhyun, and Chanyeol suggests to your parents to hire Baekhyun to teach you how to drive a car.

“Dad, you and I both know that we’re way too short-tempered to teach her. Why not hire Baek?”

“I don’t see why not.” He nods in agreement, glancing over at your mom for approval, but she’s already so giddy over the moon from the sound of his name. “Of course! My second son teaching my daughter? Why would I have any issues with that? I’ll pay him, don’t worry.”

You want to die. “Why can’t you teach me, mom? We don’t really want to bother Baek and pressure him to teach me, right?”

“Actually,” Chanyeol grins; you swear every time he does it’s mischievous with a sinful plan hidden underneath. “Baekhyun is rather quite the angel and offered himself when I brought this situation to him. He doesn’t even want to get paid for it, I just offered.” Are you kidding me? Of course. Chanyeol wants you dead.

You think you actually die when you’re sitting in Baekhyun’s car in the middle of an abandoned supermarket’s parking lot. The two of you. No sign of Chanyeol anywhere, and it’s the first time you wished that your brother were there.

“Yeol isn’t coming?”

“No,” Baekhyun frowns, pulling the seatbelt over his body and locking it in; you mimic his actions to save yourself from getting lectured by the boy of your dreams. “He said he was either going to die from your driving or high blood pressure.” You exhale a heavy breath. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Afraid of being alone with me or something, little Park?”

“Uh, no.” You lie. “Can I start?”

“Sure, show me what you know.” Pressing a foot on the brakes, you push the key into the ignition and the car roars at the start. “Are you sure you trust me driving in your car? Isn’t this girl your baby?” There’s an afterthought of Baekhyun getting this car; almost begging Chanyeol everyday to go by the second-hand car dealership to admire this beauty—well that is if you consider a 2002 Lexus SC430 with the once jet black paint chipping off a beauty, then you’d be able to relate.

He nods, licking his chapped lips from the breeze that enters in before letting out a soft sigh. “She is, so... be careful, little Park, and drive safe. I trust you to drive her. I don’t even allow Yeol to let alone touch her, so consider yourself special.” Special. Can he not say such things while you’re already anxious about being in his presence, let alone his car!

Baekhyun teaches you to drive. Another great quality he has to add to the list from that occurrence: patience. He’s the one who opened the doors exiting out of your childhood in two ways: learning how to drive and learning what it feels like to like someone. It’s the first time you’re alone with him and you’ll never forget it. It only solidified your feelings for him.

And so when you’re ready to pick up your friends for the night that you first get your license, borrowing your brother’s car, your heart swells and bursts out of your chest when he approaches your window before you pull out of the driveway. Resting his arm on the door, joy tugs on the edges of his lips. “Drive safe, will you, little Park? I know I taught you well, but I still want you home safe and sound.”

Baekhyun might be the actual cause of your death.

“So, I heard you’re in for engineering? You’re finishing up your last year, aren’t you?” 

You hum against the glass that’s pressed onto your lips, drinking in the cold water to cool yourself from the sweltering heat. Summer was supposed to be over now, but since you’re in the off-season, the weather was currently in its moods, switching on and off like a middle aged woman dealing with menopause.

Popping your lips after releasing the cup, you nod. “Finally going to grab my degree and get to do what I actually want to be doing.” You want to be out of this conversation with this... woman; you’re not even sure who she was and what relation she had to your family. A cousin, maybe? An aunt? What do you even refer to her as?

“Wow, amazing!” She exclaims as she clasps her hands together abruptly that it startles you. “My son would be a perfect match for you, he’s handsome, young...” Her voice starts to drift off at the same time that your eyes do, skimming to find your brother’s right hand man, and with your luck, his gaze is locked on yours.

He’s been watching you the entire time. 

Baekhyun’s got a red solo cup in a hand, body leaning against the white plastic fence that perimeters your deck, hair pushed back to reveal his effortlessly beautiful forehead, and just the view of the first couple buttons of his shirt let loose, you felt your knees buckle. He bites his bottom lip in light of gaining your attention— one he’s been trying to snatch the entire afternoon. He’s standing besides Chanyeol, as expected since he is his guest, but they hang almost joined at the hip and just the thought of it makes you want to roll your eyes. But when his stare locks into yours and he mouths, “come over,” you’re immediately complying with his demands.

“I’m sorry,” You interrupt the strange woman, turning to face her. “Aren’t we related? Are you trying to set me up with your son... who potentially is my cousin?” 

“Oh no! I’m just a family friend; your aunt invited me over!” With that, it only results in you clicking your tongue in disappointment, bowing to the woman apologetically. This was a waste of time. “I’m sorry, I’m not interested in being set up. Now, if you would excuse me...”

She’s probably shocked, from what you can tell on the little smirk and chuckle coming from Baekhyun as you make your way toward him, arm reaching out for a side hug. “My little Park, all grown up, aren’t you?”

“Well, I’m not sixteen anymore, so possibly.” You joke.

Talking to Baekhyun felt effortless. Almost as though he wasn’t that same guy you knew when you were growing up. The crush that had looked so out of reach, too cool and attractive for you indeed seemed like he was on the same level. Bantering came easy and there were more things in common between the two of you than you previously assumed. As if this entire time… you were surrounding him with an image of what you thought he was but it wasn’t solely who he had been.

“Ah, so you agree. You think you’re handsome.”

“Are you trying to quote a ‘Mean Girls’ line on me?” He asks, eyes squinting in your direction coltishly. Raising both your hands up in feigned defeat, you tug your lips into a straight line. “Oh, you caught me, copyright police. But I believe I merely paraphrased the movie.” He lifts his brows at you skeptically, arms crossed against his chest. “Paraphrased?”

“I’m sure that the line goes like ‘so you agree, you think you’re really pretty.’“

“Maybe not me, but I think you’re pretty.” Baekhyun grins cheekily. It’s not exactly a smooth line, you admit, but anything coming from Baekhyun inflates your heart, reminiscing the old high school feelings that stirred. “Mm, cute. But not exactly slick, Baek. Slimy, possibly.”

He seethes in disagreement. “Oh, little Park, I’ll have you know that I am not slimy; I am very much a gentleman.”

“Some gentlemen have a slimy side of them.” You clarify with a tilt of your head.

“I can assure you that I am not slimy but rather smooth and creamy.”

You grimace. “I’m not sure this conversation is going into the right direction.” Pausing for a moment, you cluster the fortitude to belatedly ask: “So, why haven’t you been around for the holidays like you used to? My mom missed having you around during the holidays.”

Baekhyun purses his lips, taking in a deep breath before speaking up. “Honestly, I’ve always had a girlfriend during the holidays. Otherwise I would’ve been over. Unfortunately, those four years that I haven’t been at your house meant four different girlfriend’s family homes that I’ve been to instead of yours.” Of course, Baekhyun couldn’t be without a girl on his arm. Just look at him!

“Mmm,” You buzz in a judging tone that sharpens his focus on you. “Disappointing. Anyways,” Jumping on the tips of your toes, you lean over to peek into his cup. “Whatcha got in there, Baek?”

“Wanna smell?” He brings the cup closer to your face, underneath your nose as your face twists at the strong scent of alcohol. “What the hell is that?”

He lets out a laugh at your expression. “Its just beer—“

“—that is definitely not just beer. What did you put in that?” Baekhyun brings the drink neighboring your nostrils again. “It’s IPA, sometimes they have weird smells to it. Sometimes it even smells like weed.”

You take a second glance at him, hesitant about trying this peculiar drink. You’ve had beer before— hell, you’d had tons of types of alcohol before, but you can safely say that IPA beer isn’t one of them. The liquid hits your tongue, barely any if you’re being completely honest, and you pull away. “Eugh,”

“Eugh?” Baekhyun imitates your reaction. “You don’t like?”

“Not exactly.” You frown, stepping back from the drink in his hand. “How do you even drink that? It’s such an acquired taste to enjoy it.”

“I guess I had a lot of different kinds of alcohol while I was in University, but IPA wasn’t one of them so I gave it a shot. Kinda like them now, not what we’re usually used to.”

“You make yourself sound like you’re old.” And with that, he taps your nose with the tip of his index finger. “And I am old. In comparison to you, little Park.” 

That’s when it hits. Baekhyun can be sweet, kind, flirtatious, but one thing he can’t be is someone who could ever reciprocate feelings for you. Even if you’ve grown out of those braces, awkward puberty stages, and now an adult woman who is somewhat confident in your body— Byun Baekhyun will always see you as one thing only— Little Park, Park Chanyeol’s kid sister.

“Right,” You respond quickly, distancing yourself from him a bit and Baekhyun feels the atmosphere shift. “I think my dad needs me to help him handle the grill.”

“Chanyeol’s over there.” Baekhyun retorts back as abruptly. “Are you okay? Is it something I said?” 

“No.” You reply, prepared to turn away and say your goodbyes to the older male, but his hand grasps onto your wrist, causing you to wrinkle your brows in confusion. “Baek?”

“Talk to me. What did I say? I like talking to you and it’d be nice to keep this conversation going.” You tilt your head in perplexity. “Okay. That’s great and all but I’ve had a raging crush on you since I was like sixteen. I’m kind of over this whole thing and I’m ready to keep you as my brother’s best friend that I had a crush on when I was entering the early stages of puberty—”

“Wait, you liked me?”

A look of incredulity spreads on your face. “You didn’t know?” He shakes his head slowly, gaze trailing to the concrete ground as if he’s trying to replay the history of your relationship, attempting to find the hints smeared throughout the years. “Well, I did, and if I’m being honest, you’re great and everything, but I don’t think I can muster enough courage to build a friendship with you if I still have these somewhat lingering feelings.”

Seconds before you’re escaping his hold, his grip tightens. “I didn’t know.” He reiterates your words, eyes finally meeting yours. “Why didn’t you tell me? And why are you telling me this now? And at your family reunion at that?”

“I... don’t know.” You shrug, body language signaling that you’d stay and his hand on your loosens. “I guess I’m tired of being called little Park and seen as Yeol’s baby sister when I’ve been pining over this unrequited love.”

“You can’t even say that when I didn’t even know you liked me.”

“Oh, come on, Baek,” Groaning, your shoulders dropping in exhaustion from this entire conversation. “You’re the epitome of every girl’s first crush. Not to mention that you get along with my family. Pretty much the easiest formation of a perfect guy for a girl who was just finally realizing how cute guys were.”

Baekhyun scrunches up his nose, placing his drink down on the table beside him. “You never made it obvious.”

“Oh please, I was very obvious. Even Chanyeol probably knew about it.”

“Don’t say that, I really didn’t know! I’m sure your brother doesn’t either.” Eventually, you’re able to step far back enough that he can’t hold you back anymore. “It’s fine, Baek, I totally get it. Enjoy your night here? I’m going to socialize a bit more—I mean help my dad with the grill. Whichever one first, uh, you get the gist.”

“Oh, wow, your son is... actually pretty good looking.” You’re back in this discussion with the same strange woman before, but this time with your blood-related aunt who was the one to convince the lady to talk to you in the first place. She’s skimming through pictures she has saved of him, yet again trying to persuade into talking to her lovely son. He’s cute, you admit. He’s a year younger but that wasn’t going to turn you away. His mom, however, is coming off a bit too strong and your aunt was trying her best to pull her back.

“See? I told you! I invited him to come join us tonight, maybe you’d catch him here!” The woman claps her hands together excitedly, over the moon that you’d agreed to her perspective. “Speaking of my lovely boy, there he is!” 

And right when you face the direction she points, you see him—sun-kissed skin with his hair gelled back, tall as a skyscraper with the longest legs ever—this guy was built like a God. His eyes skim the room, but before they can meet with his mother’s, he spots someone approaching him and a smile tugs on the edges of his lips.

“Baekhyun, I didn’t know you knew this family?” 

Of course he knows Baek.

They’re exchanging a handshake, and you’re flaring your nostrils because how small is this world? Regardless, you’re not going to let Baekhyun ruin your day. No way.

“Park Chanyeol’s my friend,” He responds, placing a hand in his pocket. “And you’re here for?”

“My mom is here, she asked me to come. Son duties, you know the drill.” The younger male shakes at his own statement before giving Baekhyun a pat on the shoulder. “I’ll catch up with you later. She wants me to meet some girl she thought was cute, so we’ll see how that goes. See you in a bit?”

Baekhyun nods in confirmation, letting him go and as he watches his figure make his way through the crowd, that’s when he notices something. You’re standing next to a middle-aged woman—and is... is Lucas walking toward you?

“Hey mom,” The towering man smiles, giving his mom a hug. “I’m here as you asked. I’m assuming this lovely lady...” The lady introduces you to her son, and he extends his hand. “I’m Lucas.”

Baekhyun is pissed. If you saw his expression right now, the smoke coming out his ears would’ve been conspicuous.

Lucas isn’t... the smartest guy you’ve ever met but at least he’s sweet and kind?

Momma’s boy, a big one at that and you find it charming that he’s so loving and caring towards his mother. A great son... however, as a boyfriend, you can already guess what the bigger fights were going to be about.

“So my mom tells me that you’re almost done school, how’s that going for you?” The two of you have migrated over to one of the picnic tables in the backyard, old and wooden yet still surprisingly structurally strong enough to hold the weight of multiple people... and thankfully without his mom. Least she knows when to leave you alone.

“Going good, I can’t wait to get it over with and start working. School is dreadful.”

“Oh, yeah, I know that much. That’s why I didn’t go to college.” No college, not a bad thing, you think to yourself. After all, it’s what you make out of it, right? “Instead, I chose the modeling path.” What. Well, it made sense. Lucas is the equivalent to a God in looks, and you were starting to wish you were exaggerating. Probably another red flag if you guys started dating—he’s too pretty for his own good and girls would probably be crawling at his feet and your level of jealousy can’t handle that.

“Modeling? That’s impressive! How’s it going for you?”

“Slow this season. But it’ll pick up eventually. I’m only twenty-one anyways. College was never for me so I figured anything else would be better. My mom always told me that I was handsome, so why not put what I already have to use, you know?” Other than the fact you wanted to correct him and tell him that twenty-one is actually peak age for modeling, you wanted to laugh a bit because he was convinced to chase after this specific goal solely from the compliments of his mother, his biggest fan who happens to be blinded by love. Either way, Lucas was lucky he was cute enough to be a model or this conversation would’ve been embarrassing.

“If you like it, go for it. I don’t see a problem with it.” A gust of wind blows in your direction and it makes you shiver.

He smiles. “I like that. Not a lot of people agree with the whole modeling thing. Even my ‘mentor’ kind of blows off the idea and pressures me to go to college to find a ‘real’ career.”

“Mentor, huh? Has he considered giving you trade school as an option?”

“And get my hands dirty? No way. These hands were made for modeling, not being someone’s plumber and playing with pipes.” An image forms in your head— Lucas... as a plumber? Oh... that’s... kind of hot. His voice interrupts your thoughts in the end, and you want to frown until you see someone approaching. “Speaking of my mentor... have you met Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun is standing at the end of the table; although he seems nice toward Lucas, you can feel the cold air coming from him. “We’ve met.” He says, words short and sharp. “Known her since she was a high school student.”

“Oh, nice, were you also her mentor, hyung?”

“What?” Baekhyun responds, the space on his forehead crinkles. “No I wasn’t her mentor, I’m a friend of her brother’s,” slightly annoyed by Lucas’ question. You can’t seem to place a finger on why he would be so... discomposed. “Have you applied to those colleges I sent to you, by the way?”

“Hyung, I told you that college wasn’t for me. I don’t get why you’re pushing me so hard.”

“Lucas, you’re not going to be young forever. What are you going to do when you’re 40? Be in those Viagra commercials? Advertisements where the elderly have ‘fallen and can’t get up’? Be realistic here.”

It’s Lucas’ turn to be upset, and rightfully so. “Hyung, you’re embarrassing me in front of my new friend. Who— by the way, is very supportive of my endeavors.” Baekhyun scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief and disapproval. “Supportive? Actually, give us a moment, Luc, I have to speak with her privately.” Grabbing onto your wrist, he tugs you from your seat, and you whimper at the aggressiveness. 

“What the hell! Baek, let go, your grip is tight.” 

Taking you inside the house, he walks through the hallways while dragging you when he sees the familiar door that leads to your bedroom, shoving it open before shutting it after the two of you are inside. He lets go of his grip. “Explain.”

You sneer at his demand. “Explain what? I didn’t do anything. You should be explaining because you dragged me here.”

“Just thirty minutes before, you profess your feelings for me and then you’re talking to some guy? What the hell is that?” You jaw tightens but you want to retain your emotions since his were spilling. There was never a good outcome if two people that were butting heads are acting upon only feelings.

So you walk over to your closet, sliding the doors open in search of a sweater but this only makes him infuriated. “Answer me— why are you looking through your closet while we’re having a conversation?” Snatching a hoodie off the hanger, you pull it over your head. “I’m cold. And you’re the one who is having a conversation. Well, not really a conversation, more like you’re lecturing me.”

“I am not lecturing you. I’m trying to read you and you’re not making it any easier for me.”

“What are you reading me for?” With the hood over your head with the end of your dress peeking out of the oversized fabric, he thinks you’re cute like this and he can’t help himself. Lunging toward you, his hands cup your cheeks and before you know it, his lips are pressed yours.

Baekhyun is kissing you.

Byun Baekhyun, your brother’s right hand man, your parents favorite non-blood related child, is kissing you. He has to force himself to pull away; he never thought that your lips would be so soft, and how right it felt in that moment.

Your fingers reach up to touch your lips and you’re left speechless for a moment before the words erupts from your mouth. “Did you just kiss me?” He’s just as dumbfounded as you are because all he does is nod in return. “Why’d you do that?”

“Look, I don’t know if I have the same exact feelings for you like you do for me but seeing you with Lucas in that way... pissed me off. I didn’t like it.” Baekhyun looks troubled because he’s letting his hands run through his chocolate locks that were styled previously. “But I think I like you. I never really thought anything of it until you said something... but maybe we can give this a try?”

You squint your eyes at him. “Baekhyun, this isn’t something you just ‘try.’ I don’t want to be lead on. You can’t just say that you ‘think’ you like me and walk in like you own me or something.”

“At least give me a chance to make this work. Obviously something happened back there because I was ticked off enough to embarrass my mentee in front of you.” He sighs, dropping his body onto your made childhood bed. “Poor kid.”

“Eh, he’ll be fine. He needs something anyway. I heard he lives in his mother’s basement, which is fine I guess, but despite not going to college, he has debt?” Baekhyun glares at you from underneath his long luscious lashes, but it’s light and he’s not upset anymore. “Don’t make fun of my mentee, I’m supposed to guide him!”

“Do better.” You retort before plopping your body beside him on your bed, laying down flat on the covers. “I’ll give you a chance. But we can’t tell Chanyeol. If it doesn’t work out, then it’s a secret and he doesn’t have to worry. If it leads to more... let’s just wait ‘til that time comes and we can figure something out.” 

You can’t see him from where you are, but the sound of his voice is a dead giveaway that he’s smiling at your words. “I like the sound of that.”

“Aw, look at that, my best friend and my kid sister. Where were you guys?” Chanyeol looks a bit tipsy with his hooded eyes and crooked smile, but he’s only spilling elation when he slips in his socks and into the arms of Baekhyun when the two of you exit your room. 

“Uh, I wanted to move my desk and Baek offered to help.” Yeah. That’s a good excuse. 

“Mm, could’ve always asked me. But of course, Baekhyun here is an angel and loves to help out my family. Wouldn’t it be amazing if he was our brother?” The expression on your face cringes in disgust, the thought of Baekhyun being your brother and it’s like he reads your mind when he catches Chanyeol stumbling in his arms, pulling the taller male up. “You don’t want me as your brother, Yeol, that’s weird. Maybe I’ll date my way into your family,” He jokes, and you mouth ‘too soon!’ in his direction as he gives an unapologetic shrug shared with a smile.

“Who... her?” Chanyeol points to you with his chin, brows crinkles but releases with a laugh. “No way, man. She’s not even your type.”

“She can be my type.” The expression on Baekhyun’s face was pained, attempting to hold him up. “Little Park is pretty.”

“Mm, but she’s the serious type and you’ve had probably ten ‘serious’ girlfriends in the past four years!” He exclaims as you’re guiding the two of them toward Chanyeol’s bedroom, swinging open the door. “Little Park hasn’t even brought a boyfriend home.... heh, mom thinks she can’t get a boyfriend.”

You hiss. “That’s not true.” Chanyeol sticks his tongue out at you and you get a hit of vodka coming from his breath. “I think it’s true.” He sings, dropping his large frame onto the bed, eyes heavy. “Little Park needs a real boyfriend, Baek, not a fling!” Minutes later of Baekhyun trading Chanyeol’s jeans out with sweatpants, the two of you slowly close his door and heave out a weight breath.

“That was exhausting. He does this every year; it’s like my family is purposefully trying to get him to drunk to make me suffer.”

“Sorry,” Baekhyun mutters, hands slipping into the pockets of his jeans. “I should’ve been there to help you.” You wave him off, shaking your head in disagreement. “He’s my brother, it’s my responsibility.” Just when you’re about to walk away, he tugs on the hem of your shirt before you turn with a raised brow.

“You’re not... upset about what he said, are you?”

“About what?”

“About me. Having flings, never really having a serious girlfriend. About you, never bringing anyone home.”

You shrug. “I never wanted to bring anyone home in the first place. Doesn’t really matter to me.” Baekhyun chews on his bottom lip anxiously, fiddling with the fabric between his fingers. “I hope I can be that for you eventually.”

“Be what?”

“The one you want to bring home.”

Naeun is your best friend, biggest supporter, and also the most brutally honest person you’ve ever met. It’s in her DNA to be this way and although sometimes her candidness can hurt, you know she means well. So when you tell her about your Baekhyun escapades, her jaw is dropped down to the floor in awe.

“You’re kidding.”

“I am nothing but forthright.”

She smiles, tilting her head back in skepticism. “... No, you’re definitely playing me. There is no way he said that he likes you. There’s no way.” You pout. “Is it that hard to believe that a guy like him finds me attractive? Jesus, Naeun, hurt my feelings why don’t ya.”

“Girl, I’m just saying. He’s too hot and too much of a fuck boy... so him wanting to risk his relationship with his best friend to go after her sister... unless...” Her thoughts trail off for a moment before she comes back. “... Nah, never mind. There’s just no way. There’s a catch to this, I’m going to find it.”

“There’s absolutely no catch.”

“I’m just saying baby girl, watch out.” She’s leaning back on a wooden chair in your room that you had borrowed from the dining room set, swaying on the two legs dangerously. “Girls get their hearts broken because of him. And it’s because he’s such a nice boy about it that it makes them feel bad. Isn’t that crazy? What power he holds.”

“You’re giving him way too much power just from this conversation we’re having. Naeun, if you believe that he has that much hanging over all of us, then you’re enabling him to do so!”

“So you agree... you think he’s a playboy with a lot of power.”

“Naeun!” You holler, rolling your eyes at your friend. “He’s nothing but a guy that I like. We keep talking about him as if he’s this being that’s better than all of us when in actuality, he’s just a really nice guy.”

Naeun scoffs. “Who is really fucking hot, by the way. Don’t forget that.” She stands up and makes her way toward your closet, slinging the doors wide open. “Which means you should probably update your wardrobe too. You think a guy like Baek wants to date someone in hoodies and sweatpants all the time?” You purse your lips at your friend. “Don’t make me feel insecure about this, he already told me he likes me.”

“Okay, but what about the competition? Aren’t there girls lining up for him?” There’s silence for a moment, indicating that you’re almost lured into her trap before she sings your name. “Come on, wouldn’t you want to try looking cute for him?”

“I try!”

“Did you meet him today?” She asks. “Yes?” You respond questioningly. Why?”

“And you were wearing that?” Naeun gestures your attire. As mentioned before, just like your entire closet, you’re dressed in black hoodie and sweatpants. At least they matched, right? She grabs your hand and pulls you up. “You said you guys were going to meet tonight again, so let’s get you ready for that!”

If meeting Baekhyun required getting ready 3 hours in advance, you don’t know if you can date him anymore.

As planned, Baekhyun is parked at the end of the block waiting for you, shooting a text in your direction to let you know that he’s here. Slipping your phone into your bag, you heave out a heavy sigh of how tight this skirt that Naeun forced you into. “I thought I looked fine earlier,” you grumble to yourself before adjusting your blouse and snatching a jacket from the coat rack.

Attempting to sneak out of your house without gaining Chanyeol’s attention was hard. He couldn’t help being nosey. It was in his nature.

“Whoa, looking smokin’ hot for who?” Chanyeol exclaims with his arms crossed in front of your bedroom door. You groan loudly. “Can you please just leave and get out of my way? I’m trying to go out.”

Chanyeol looks astonished. “And with who? I’ve never seen you dressed like this before.” You push a strand of hair that gets caught in your makeup. “Honestly, I don’t know either. Naeun made me look like this.”

“You’re probably going to scare the guy away before you even get him.” You frown. “Let me figure that out tonight. So if you would excuse me—“ Aggressively shoving your brother aside with your hidden Hulk strength, he slams into the wall and winces as you made a run for it.

You want to cry. You felt ridiculous, and Chanyeol’s comment only made it worse. Walking up to Baekhyun’s car, you see him leaned against the hood of his car, skimming through something on his phone. He looks amazing in dark slacks and jet-black sweater tucked in them. He lifts his head to see you, jaw dropping in shock. Your legs were out for the world to see, shirt low enough for a glimpse of your cleavage and he can only gulp and clear his throat before stuttering on his words. “Whoa—I—“

You respond with a moan. “Do I look ridiculous? Naeun came over earlier and forced me to dress prettier, and Chanyeol stopped me before leaving the house and said I looked crazy. Please tell me which one it is so I can go back and do something about it.”

Baekhyun laughs. He laughs as if the situation you’re in is funny. “I think you’re always pretty. You just look even prettier today.” You chew on your bottom lip anxiously, shoulders dropping in doubt. “Are you sure? We haven’t even started the date yet and I feel like I ruined it.” He only shakes his head with a soft smile, walking over to the passenger door to open it for you.

 When he’s sitting in the car beside you, he swears his throat closes up when your skirt hikes up in your seat. Warding off the sinful thoughts of you, he starts the ignition of the car, letting the engine warm up for a bit before driving off. The last time you’d been in this car was when he was teaching you how to drive; weekend after weekend, while just you and Baekhyun in this worn down Lexus, he stole your heart bit by bit. You never thought you’d find yourself in this situation again; somehow you were the one stealing his.

“Where are we going?”

“Dinner. I heard there was this really great Italian place they opened downtown. Maybe we can get dessert after?” He glances over at you to see your reaction, only regretting because you so pretty with the sunset behind you.

“That sounds good.” You grin.

That night, the dinner itself wasn’t the most amazing thing you’ve ever had, but the talks you had with Baekhyun were. There wasn’t a dull moment with him, he had stories to share that made you laugh until you’re almost choking on the pasta and by the time dinner was over, you were just glad that there was still dessert to look forward to.

“This place looks new.” You say, eyes sparkling with the countless of options listed on the menu mounted above. “There’s so many to choose from.” Baekhyun notes that although your eyes seem youthful and the smile plastered on your face supported that, everything about you wasn’t the same anymore. How’d he miss out on this for so many years?

You wave your hand in front of his face. “Baek, you good? Have you decided what you like?” He lets out a nervous chuckle, nodding his head. “Uh, yeah. Grab me the strawberry on a cone, will you?”

He slides his card to pay before you could even stop him, frowning when you hand him his cone as the two of you exit the shop. “I could’ve paid, you know.”

“I don’t really trust anyone who gets mint chocolate chip… so…”

“Oh, so you don’t. What’s wrong with mint?”

“Do you like eating toothpaste or something?” You slap his arm, and he winces, remembering that although you were small in comparison to him, your strength was impeccable. “Oh—shit, I’m sorry, Baek.”

“I forgot how strong you were. Do you lift or something?” His face contorts in pain, but he’s not in that much pain. “No, although, now that you mention it, I should probably get into it since I know I’d be so good.” Baekhyun winces. “How am I ever going to stand next to you? I’ll be living in fear all the time.”

“Speaking of, I heard you finally moved out of your parents place.” Licking your ice cream, Baekhyun has to look away or else these thoughts would creep up again. “I have. Want to come over after this? We can squeeze in a movie, and I borrowed something from Chanyeol the other day, so I can drop it off when I take you home.”

Bent over, reaching for the controller underneath the coffee table, Baekhyun swallows. His gaze drifts off to the ceiling, praying that you wouldn’t notice the boner he’s supporting right now. When did you grow up? He has to shake off the dirty things he’s imagining you doing right now.

“Here.” You slap the controller in the palm of his hand before adjusting your top. “Are you comfortable? Do you wanna borrow some of my clothes?” Lips jutting into a pout, you want to tell Baekhyung, yes, hell the fuck yes I want to wear your clothes and get out of this brutally uncomfortable skirt, but the words don’t leave you mouth and he can only smile. It’s like he reads your mind because he stands from the couch and enters into his room. Seconds later, he has a pair of sweats and a hoodie for you. Your favorite dynamic duo.

You’re barely 1/4th through the movie, Baekhyun’s arm around you with your head cuddled against his chest while wearing his clothes that smelled so good, smelled like him. This amount of comfort was never evident with any of your previous relationships, but something about Baekhyun made everything feel okay. Turning your head to look over at him, he’s breathing soundlessly as if he’s asleep, but his attention is all diverted to the television. His jawline looked tempting, skin smooth and soft, you bring your lips to kiss the bone.

He chuckles at the action, eyes down to meet with yours. “Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“I should be the one asking you that.” He presses a chaste kiss on your lips before giving you one last look of confirmation. Crashing his lips onto yours, you welcomed him inside with your tongues knotting and sliding past one another, you hum against him. It sent a warmth feeling down your center and you wanted know if he felt it too. Pushing the blanket off your frame, you climb over his lap, swinging a leg over before pressing yourself down on him, his hands slowly making his way to your waist, hesitating as if he’s asking for permission. Hands forcing on his in invitation, he complies, pulling you close to his body.

He lets go of your lips, a lewd smack from your kiss separating. He’s panting like he’s just run a marathon, heart racing to the point that he’s afraid you can hear it. There’s a rush in him, excitement pumping through his veins and he’s never felt this before. You felt too much like home to him, and this was just the first date, how was he supposed to survive any more if you had him wrapped around his finger like this?

“I don’t want to go any further if you don’t want to. It’s our first date—Is it too soon?” He says, his voice meek and faint, the total opposite of how he usually is around you. Afraid he’d mess it up, afraid that everything that happened today wouldn’t happen again if he didn’t do it right.

“Please take me. I want you, Baek, I really do. I’ve been waiting for this since I met you when I was sixteen.” You sounded desperate, cheeks flushed in embarrassment of how intoxicated you were from his kisses. “Don’t make it sound like that, I’m sorry I made you wait this long.” He whispers before leaning back into the kiss, palm rubbing your hip soothingly before you begin to grind on him. The sight of you in his clothes brought the blood rushing straight into his pants that were starting to be uncomfortably tight.

Baekhyun made you feel like a princess that night—sprawled on his bed, arms wrapped around his neck while he peppered kisses constantly on your damp forehead, skins slapping as the headboard of the bed bangs against the wall. Soughing sweet nothings into your ears, nibbling on your lobes to help you reach your high, a hand reaching down to toy with your clit before your toes are curling, fingers digging into his shoulders while your climax was approaching. He had you in a trance, fully blissed out, and before you know it, you’re cumming, letting out your final moans and cries. It drag must’ve felt nice, because his hips are stuttering, losing it’s rhythm until he stills, long spurts of his cum splattering you walls.

He falls over, pulling you close and nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, gifting you a quick kiss on your sweaty skin. “Stay for the night?” You nod.

You end up staying more nights with him.

Your presence meant more to Baekhyun than you ever knew. Those rough days where he’s at the office, he loves coming back to his apartment, seeing you in his dark home with only the kitchen light illuminating on the granite island with your books spread out with your notes and music blasting from your computer. There were some nights where he’d be home late hours and you’re snuggled in blankets on the couch, the only brightness in the room is from the television, shining on your face in multiple colors with you completely engrossed with what’s playing. It was his favorite part of the day, the thing he looked forward to the most.

The night he knew that he couldn’t ever let you go was when he came home just in time because you were taking out a tray of something from the oven, apron wrapped around your frame with a surprised expression on your face. “Oh, you’re back?” You sound shocked, mostly because you told him you wouldn’t be here tonight but yet… there you were.

“Not that I don’t love having you around, but I thought you said you weren’t coming over today?” Baekhyun asks, dropping his jacket on one of the dining room chairs. “And what are you making?”

You scrunch up your nose. “Honestly, sorry baby, I wanted to use your oven. Then I felt bad for using your oven without telling you, so I baked you banana bread as well. Then I lost track of time and I’m supposed to deliver these cupcakes to Naeun for her lacrosse team bake sale tomorrow.” Baekhyun chortles in amusement, wrapping his arms around you from behind before pecking your lips. “All good, baby.”

He doesn’t even care that you came to his house without a warning. He’s glad you’re there—Baekhyun had the expectation that you weren’t going to be there that night, so the drive home was dreadful, but just catching you in the act of using his oven… nothing made him happier. He’s not letting you go.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You hiss, eyes darting at him. Pausing from stuffing your personal belongings into your duffle bag, regret washes over how much stuff you’ve accumulated here. His place had too much of your things and having this fight alone was bringing in a lot of realizations. How could you get comfortable so easily?

Baekhyun sighs, fingers running through those locks that you had always dreamed of having your own in, but at this state, you’re fuming with anger. “You’re only twenty-two and my best friend’s little sister. There’s so much to life you haven’t seen yet... I don’t think you’re mature enough for me.”

“I’m not mature enough for you?” Shaking your head, you continue to fill your bag. “Ridiculous. I’m twenty-two, Baekhyun, not sixteen. Need I remind you that you also wanted this? I’m also not the one talking to other women while you’re with me— with me! You said you liked me. But the entire time, you had someone in the back burner, ready to replace me when it’s time.”

He says your name with another exasperated breath, feeling speechless. He doesn’t get to feel frustrated, you think to yourself, not today, not in this situation. “I do like you. More than you think, actually. But do you ever think of what Chanyeol is going to say or how he’d react if he knew? I’m feeling guilty, extremely guilty. You’re not just his sister, but you’re his little sister, which means a lot more. He’s getting suspicious of me sneaking around with some girl he hasn’t heard about yet.”

You’re fuming. Little sister this, little sister that. Every conversation with Baekhyun always seemed to lead to that topic—how young you were, and how experienced he’d been in comparison. “Who fucking cares? He’s my brother, he doesn’t get a say in my relationships. And who is he to you that he can decide yours?”

“He’s my best friend, one that’s been around for me almost forever. I can’t just go behind his back and date his sister, let alone sleep with her.”

“Then let’s not make it complicated any more. I’m leaving.”

He freezes. Why’s he suddenly so shocked? He was watching you pack your bags seconds ago, yet it’s like reality only struck him in that moment. Baekhyun reaches to grasp onto your wrist and you push back. “Wait, you’re not actually leaving, are you?”

“What do you expect me to do? Stay? After the way you spoke to me? What about when you called me ignorant and inexperienced? Too young for you? Should I list more things why you can’t be with me and for some reason you want me to still stay?”

“I-I didn’t mean it like that,” He says, stuttering in his words. “I still have feelings for you, nonetheless.”

“That doesn’t mean shit, Baekhyun.” You pull from his hold, slinging the bag over your shoulder before storming out his apartment. “I have some pride and dignity. I can’t just stay with someone who looks and speaks of me so condescendingly.” He doesn’t stop following you though, door left open as he chases you down the flight of stairs. 

“Drive safe,” He says softly, watching your figure make way to your car that parks outside of the apartment complex, heart clenching at the sight of you walk away. “Please text me when you get home.”

“As if,” You scoff, aggressively opening the door. “Don’t expect to hear from me anymore, Baekhyun.”

He’s like every other guy you’ve ever dated, have ever been with. This guy—the one who you’ve always put on a pedestal and admired— wasn’t just a guy anymore, but rather any other one you’ve ever dated. He’d stolen your heart in your early years but in actuality, Byun Baekhyun was like any other boy. Disappointing and sleazy.

Respect and admiration, the two main characteristics you looked for in a man, and the one that you thought had them, didn’t end up having them. Tears were welling up into your eyes as you’re driving; sleeves too long that they cover your hands on the wheel, and you want nothing more than just to speed past these cars on the highway.

But you knew better than to let your emotions run wild. Yet the tears just don’t stop falling.

Age. Age was just a number. There were so many people that were the same age as you without the equivalent amount of experience as you held. Whether if it were more or less, the main point was evident: age didn’t matter. It’s what Baekhyun felt was a constant need to remind you when things weren’t working out or when it got tough. It had been frustrating. Maybe it was a good thing to have left. After all, what would it have been like if you had to tell your brother?

There’s constant dinging coming from your bag, and once the traffic begins to build up, you take your attention away for a brief moment to check it.

10 Missed Calls. 30 New Messages.

All from Baekhyun.

There’s an urge within you to want to call him back but you know better. If you heard his sweet, soothing voice over the phone, you’d unconsciously turn your car around and drive directly back to his apartment. It’s how it always was.

But from now on, it was different. You can’t put Baekhyun on a pedestal anymore, you can’t put him as this picture perfect guy for you. He wasn’t— he was human, and that was okay for you, more than just okay, but he proved at that very moment that maybe you weren’t right for him.

Another blind date.

You’ve been on countless of blind dates since you officially announced to your family that the guy you’ve been seeing wasn’t... well, you weren’t seeing him anymore. Because of this, your mom thinks that you’re bitter and lonely, fearing that you’ll never find someone. “You’re only twenty-two and can’t even keep a man? We have to start early while we still have time!” 

Luckily, Chanyeol tried backing you out of this one but there’s no argument against your mother. So he suggests doing the matching. You pray he’s not trying to get back at you for stealing the last yogurt cup in the fridge back in 2011.

Getting into your ‘lucky’ signature black mini dress was a bit harder than usual— you want to blame it on the relationship weight gain but you admit that your healthy habits have been lacking. After sucking in a deeper breath, the dress finally zips. Smoothing out the crevasses on the skirt of your attire, you give yourself a last check in the mirror before giving yourself a grin and a thumbs up. “OK, I got this.”

The door bell rings; assuming it’s your date, you quickly slide open your closet doors to find your heels until a familiar laugh perks up your ears. It’s none other than Baekhyun.

“You... look like you were standing by the door waiting for someone and I’m pretty sure I made this a surprise visit.” Peering out into the hallway, you can see his figure standing at the door frame, dressed in a hoodie, ripped jeans, and a trench coat... why does he make it so hard to hate him?

Chanyeol shakes his head, standing aside for his friend to enter. “Jongin is supposed to be here sometime soon.”

“Oh, you made plans with him?”

“Nah, setting him up with my sister. I’m free for the rest of the night. You tryna hang?” Baekhyun gives Chanyeol a dazed look of bewilderment. “You’re... setting up your sister with Kim Jongin?” He nods with his lips pursed, confident with his response that his friend seems to question uncertainly. “Yeah. My mom has been on her case lately about having a boyfriend since apparently the guy she was seeing dumped her. She thinks that little Park has some personality issues and it’s going to take some time before she meets someone. I figured I’d give her an easy date, at least Jongin isn’t a dick like the past few guys.”

Baekhyun feels queasy. Were you really moving on that quickly? It was barely a week since he’d last seen you and the visual of you walking away that night haunted his days. “How long ago since it’s been since she and the guy broke up? Couldn’t have been that long, right? Why are you guys already setting her up on dates so soon?”

Chanyeol shrugs his shoulders. “Not sure. Why’s it matter anyway? Jongin is a nice guy anyway and could use some stability in his life.”

“That guy rides a motorcycle and races almost every weekend. You think he’s good for your sister?” His tone spilled in flabbergast. “You don’t think he’s going to influence her?”

“She’s an adult, she can handle herself. I highly doubt he would be influencing her though, pretty sure she would more than likely be influencing him.” Baekhyun can agree to that— after all, he’d fallen victim to that. But he didn’t like the idea of you being with someone else and he definitely wasn’t a fan of seeing you look pretty for a guy like Jongin. “Well, what if I took her out on a date?” He suggests.

Chanyeol can only let out a laugh, leading Baekhyun into the living room. “Yeah right, don’t kid around, Baek. My mom is strict about her looking for suitors; we’re looking for serious inquiries only.”

The doorbell finally rings. “Oh! I think it’s for me— I’ll get it!” Baekhyun’s head pivots to see you rushing out of your room, slipping into your heels the last second with a black leather jacket folded over your arm. He feels the breath stolen from his lungs. 

“Oh. Hey Baekhyun,” You say, a weak smile upon your lips. “I got the door.” 

Standing at the door with a loose dress shirt tucked in his slacks, with a couple buttons undone; Jongin’s sun-kissed tan skin is exposed from underneath, hair slicked back in gel with a bright grin on his face. “Hey, pretty.” Voice deep and smooth, goosebumps appearing on your arms. “Hi.” 

“Jongin.” He startles you from behind, bumping you aside before giving his friend a handshake. “Taking little Park out? Per Chanyeol’s request?” Jongin only nods, and he doesn’t take his eyes off of you. “Yes, but... I did it willingly. After all, look how beautiful she looks.” Baekhyun snaps his fingers to regain his attention. “Where are you taking her?”

“Surprise.” He says nonchalantly, noting Baekhyun’s sudden possessiveness. “Where’s Yeol? Told him I’d say my goodbyes before I take her out tonight.” Saved by the presence of Chanyeol, you finally let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Despite the height difference, Baekhyun was attempting to size up Jongin, although lacking a bit from the towering younger male. “Whoa, what’s going on here?”

“Nothing,” They both say in unison, but Chanyeol only chuckles at the sight of his two friends. “Well, thanks for doing this for me Jongin, I’m sure you made both mine and my sister’s night a little easier.”

“Well, drive safe when you go.” Baekhyun says through his gritted teeth. Words that were once so affectionate and caring now had a different meaning behind them.

Standing by the door with his arms crossed on his chest, Baekhyun scowls while Chanyeol leans against the frame. Jongin hands over to you the spare helmet on the backseat of his motorcycle (which by the way... hot) before hopping on. Settling comfortably behind him, he lifts up his arms and although Baekhyun can’t hear what Jongin’s saying, he already knows the words. Wrap your arms around me so you don’t fall off. Right on cue because your arms snake around his frame, gripping on as tight as Baekhyun’s jaw clenches.

The restaurant he takes you to is way out of your comfort zone.

There was a comment here and there from Chanyeol that Jongin was from old money, however there wasn’t much brought up after that. Where he brings you on your first date is evident of this; it’s lavishly decorated, dark lighting with a candle that illuminates just the table, freshly picked flowers from their own garden, linen tablecloths and napkins, and to top it off, a classical band plays in the corner. 

“Wow... after telling me to hop onto the back of your motorcycle, I really didn’t expect you to take me here.” He lets out a low snicker, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “A beautiful woman like you deserves a luxurious date as this.”

Jongin is a gentleman. He pulls out your chair for you, opens the car door for you, and when there’s goosebumps on your arm and you shiver at the cool air blowing down at you, he’s observant enough without you saying and asks the waiter to turn off the air.

“Baekhyun Hyung seems like have a thing for you, doesn’t he?”Jongin asks, picking up his knife to saw his steak. “I saw how... protective he was of you.”

“Eh, just an instinct. He and my brother are close, so I’m sure it rubbed off.” You lie. It’s easier to lie.

Jongin isn’t convinced. “No, I’m pretty sure he was giving me daggers with his eyes. Like... boyfriend daggers. As if I was stealing his girl or something.” 

“I’m not really anyone’s to claim,” You say, fork pushing your pasta around. This conversation wasn’t fun and you weren’t in the mood to be in it. After all, you were at this date because Baekhyun didn’t want to be yours in the first place. “Hence why we’re on this date, right? There’s no Baekhyun.”

But for the rest of the night, Jongin doesn’t let it go. He keeps bringing it up, as if Baekhyun is now his competitor and they’re both fighting for a mate. 

You call it a night. Saying that you might’ve eaten something bad during lunch and it wasn’t sitting well in your stomach. So much for an easy date.

“You look... really stressed out dude. Maybe we should go out for drinks tonight or something.” Chanyeol suggests, stirring the sugar in his iced coffee with the plastic straw. “What’s up with you?”

He can’t get you out of his mind. He can’t go to bars, clubs, restaurants... pretty much anywhere; he can’t go anywhere because everything reminds him of you. Baekhyun only agrees to meet up with Chanyeol because he doesn’t want to seem any more suspicious, but it seems that showing up didn’t do much of a difference either.

“Can I ask you something? And you not be mad about it?” Baekhyun blurts, leaning forward in his seat with his arms against the table.

“Uh, sure.” Chanyeol responds, brows furrowed in confusion. “I guess I can’t really control my anger if you’re asking something ridiculous, but shoot.”

“No, I really need you to not be upset about it.”

“... Uh, okay, then I guess continue.”

Baekhyun takes in a deep breath and exhales, so deep that it takes him a while to recover in order to continue the conversation. “I... Would be upset if I told you that I might have feelings for your sister?”

Chanyeol raises a brow. “... Do you really? You’re not joking, right? Because that’s some sick joke—”

“No? At least, I don’t think I am.” Baekhyun says quickly, shaking his head. “Just... can you stop setting her up with these other guys?” His best friend takes a sip of his drink, cringing at the taste before opening the lid to pour more sugar into it. “Okay, I won’t anymore. So what are you going to do now?”

“You— you’re not mad about it?”

Taking a sip of the coffee, he nods in content before closing the lid. “Well, yeah, why would I be mad?” He pauses for a moment, eyes gazing up at Baekhyun’s tired ones. “Wait... you’re not telling me that she’s the reason you’ve been so stressed out, are you? Dude, I sent her out with Jongin! What’d you do?”

“I... I don’t know.” He responds, still appalled by Chanyeol’s calmness surrounding the situation. “But we dated for a bit and I ruined it by telling her that you might not be as supportive about this.”

“Dude...” He clicks his tongue in disbelief. “Why didn’t you just tell me before? Did you already fuck up before it even really started?”

“What else am I supposed to do? What if you said no? Was I to pick between the girl I’m in love with and my best friend?”

“Baek, stop being difficult. She’s old enough to decide things herself. What do you think this is, the Medieval times? Women are capable of making their own decisions— even if she’s my baby sister and something in my stomach really wants to punch you for even laying your eyes on her, but I can’t do that.” Then, there’s a pause. “Did you say you love her?”

“Uh...” He sighs, standing up in his seat and gestures Baekhyun up as well. “Come on, let’s go fix this mess.”

Baekhyun declines, slouching. “I’ve already fucked it up to the point of no return. She blocked my number, doesn’t respond to texts— I couldn’t even come to your house this past week because I knew she would ignore me. I look like a crazed boyfriend with how much I’m trying here.”

“You are a crazed boyfriend, you literally fucked up your chances with her.”

“Which is why I think I should completely give up.”

Rubbing his face in his hands, Chanyeol frustratedly groans. “Honestly, if you’re going to give up so easily, maybe you don’t deserve her.” Baekhyun swallows, anxiously shaking his leg under the table. “What am I supposed to do? Stand outside her house until she has to come out?”

“Well, for one thing, you got her brother’s permission and acceptance of the two of you being together. Isn’t that something? Wasn’t that one of the reasons that stemmed from the conversation?”

Baekhyun grunts, hands furiously ruffling his hair. “It wasn’t only that. I called her immature, Yeol. I told her that she wasn’t mature enough for me.” His best friend stays silent for a moment, so quiet that you could almost hear him blink. “Do you really believe that?”

“Of course not. She’s the most mature twenty two year old I’ve ever met. She has most of her life together than I do, not including the fact that she has more self-assurance than I ever did at that age. But she doesn’t make me feel bad about it either; she wants me to bask in my childish behavior and be myself—“

“—stop talking and save it for her, will you?”

His palms are incredibly sweaty. Wiping the excess moisture on the fabric of his jeans, he tightens his jaw but follows with a deep inhale and exhale afterwards. “Why are you so nervous? I thought you said you liked her and were comfortable with her?” Chanyeol is shuffling through his pockets and filing through the many keys he has for the front door of your parents’ place before a familiar voice is heard behind the wooden material.

“I think it’s Yeol, Dad! I got it—“ The door swings open and the sight of you clenches Baekhyun’s chest.

You’re so pretty; so fucking goddamn pretty. Hair tied back in a loose bun, oversized grey hoodie and black shorts yet the simplest outfit has Baekhyun almost gasping for air. It makes the acidity in his stomach grumble— or his intestines in a knot; he’s not quite sure. One thing he was certain of was that knowing that he was the cause of your tired and sad eyes made his heart drop.

“Oh, hey Baekhyun.” That stung. He missed hearing you call him your baby. “You guys coming in?”

“I’m coming in. But you? Stay out here and talk to Baekhyun.” A blank expression on your face, you blink profusely. “Is everything okay?”

“Apparently not. Seemed like my friend is rather smitten with you. What’d you do? Drug his drink?”

“With what? You think I have to drug your friends to think I’m somewhat pretty?”

“No, I think you have to drug their drinks to get them to fall in love with you. He’s crazy now; I don’t think I want to be around him anymore. You keep him.” His words don’t have an underlying tone that you can pick out but he ends it off with a soft smile before patting your shoulder and walking into the house.

It’s just you and Baekhyun.

“Why’s he talking like that?” You say, ultimately shattering the glass of silence. “He’s acting like I have all his friends by a leash.”

“You have me by a leash.” It’s a quiet again. A heavy empty space of stillness settled over the two of you, thicker than the awkwardness and tension that had never been there before.

“Why are you—“

“You’re home early.” Baekhyun states the obvious, gathering enough courage to speak up. “Bad date?” Sucking in your cheeks, you’re tempted to tell him that it’s none of his business, yet you play along to his game anyway. “No... he was great. He just had a lot to offer when it came to money and I knew I couldn’t reciprocate nor live that life.” He nods as if this information was helpful, knowing that regardless of the turnout of the date, he would still be having this conversation.

“I told Yeol.” Your eyes widen; this is the most of a reaction he has gotten from you in a while and he admits that he misses it. “You what? Are you crazy? It was supposed to be meticulously planned—”

“He said he was okay with it.” Blinking blankly, you’re still hesitant about what to say next. “That... that doesn’t change where we left off.” Distressingly raking his hair with his fingers, he nods. “I know it doesn’t make up for any of the things I said but I still want another shot. I said it in the moment of panic— I had to pick between you and Chanyeol, and I didn’t know what to do.”

“So... what are you trying to say?”

“That what I said the other day, I didn’t mean it. I guess, calling you little Park like I’ve always done made it easy, knowing that I didn’t have to choose between my best friend and the girl I’ve been head over heels for. It gave me enough time to figure out what I wanted to do and... I just ended up ruining it for myself.”

You’re quiet the entire time, hands twiddling with the fabric of your hoodie. Unsure how to feel and uncertain of what to say, you just swallow any words that want to leave your mouth, not wanting to be too easy and let him back into your arms so easily. “Please, say something, say anything. I’m in love with you and honestly, I never thought I’d be in this position. All those girls I’ve dated—none of them made me feel in comparison to you.” His voice is wavering; you assume it’s from him being nervous.

“Baek, I don’t want to get hurt again.” You say softly, almost in a whisper. “You made me feel so stupid that day. I put you on this pedestal, I thought so highly of you—“

“Don’t do that,” He interrupts, stepping closer to you. “Don’t think so highly of me because I already broke your heart once. I made you wait so long and never realized your feelings for me. You’re the one that I should be putting on a pedestal.” Tears begin to well in your eyes again—Baekhyun’s the reason again, but it’s the opposite from before.

“I picked my nose before opening the door and wiped it on the doorknob before coming out because I knew Chanyeol was going to touch it. Are you sure about that?” He laughs, arms wrapping around your frame before pulling you against his chest. “Exactly what I looked for in a girlfriend. Someone who would torture my best friend.”

“I think I’m ready to move out.”

“Oh wow,” You say, slightly impressed. “You’re like what, 29? You probably should have your own place by now. Instead, you’ve been living at your parents’ house, trying to steal your sister’s last can of coke from the fridge. And you didn’t even bother to replace it!” Baekhyun chuckles at the siblings arguing, rubbing your back soothingly.

“Nobody asked you to drink so much of it. It’s bad for your heath.”

“You’re just saying that because you can’t handle my hits. You want me to be weaker.”

“Rightfully so.” He attacks back, sticking his tongue at you. “Man, ever since Baek started dating you, he won’t even stand by me anymore. I felt like I had more confidence knowing that he might back me up.” His friend shakes his head. “I never did though, I let you guys just fight.” Chanyeol groans. “Whatever. Anyway, I think I should look for a roommate temporarily before completely moving out on my own.”

Baekhyun sits up on the couch. “You could always come live with me, you know.” Your older brother scoffs, shaking his head. “Nah, not after you started dating my sister. I’m only half okay with this, I’m not sure how I’d feel hearing your bedpost banging on the wall.”

“What— why would you even bring that up!”

Chanyeol sighs disappointingly, leaning back. “Man, I miss when Baek used to date other girls. He’d talk about how wild some of them were, how his flings were… he lived the life I wanted to live—ouch! Did you just throw the controller at me?” He winces, rubbing his head. “What was that for?”

“Are you seriously talking about his past sexual encounters in front of me, you asshole?”

“Okay but Baek—“ Baekhyun raises his hands in defeat. “I don’t know if I’m cool with you bringing this up with my current girlfriend, dude.”

“This is a losing battle, isn’t it?”

[yersina]

okay, hear me out: blacksmith!jaskier.

like, maybe he’s the owner of his own shop (smithy? forge?), maybe he’s apprenticed to someone else—either way, he works in a little town, proooobably somewhere close to kaer morhen?

(sina, you may be saying that this point, jaskier loves to travel! he likes to see new things and meet new people and cause trouble! how could he stand to stay in one place his whole life? not a problem! shopkeepers aren’t confined to their shops, are they? especially if he’s an apprentice. i propose that he takes semi-annual journeys to travel to more far away towns and sell his wares there and maybe chase a few skirts while he’s at it)

so anyway, blacksmith!jaskier. he’s actually more of a jeweler sort of person—he likes beauty, likes art, and while he can see and appreciate the skill it takes to create a sword or a kitchen knife, he doesn’t really find his calling in creating chamberpots. but alas, see: small town, so this is the best place for something approaching an apprenticeship that he can find.

one day, he’s minding his own business in the back of the shop (smithy??), re-sharpening a knife for a nice old lady who dropped it off a day or so ago, when the master blacksmith storms in and gestures for him to get out. jaskier has long since learned that the master blacksmith is a man of few words, so he troops out to the front with no small amount of exasperation and confusion.

and lo and behold, there stands a witcher in his entrance.

“fix it,” he grunts (bc jaskier is, of course, cursed to work only around people who can’t be bothered to string together more than five syllables at once) and drops the literally shattered remains of a sword on the counter.

jaskier stares. dented swords, he’s seen. they’re close enough to a big city that they’ve occasionally gotten the odd knight looking for a cheaper alternative to city-internal smithies. but shattered? and in so many pieces? “i’d really just advise you buy a new sword at this point, good sir,” jaskier says slowly. “i could use this as scrap metal and make you a new one, but it won’t be the same sword.”

the witcher grunts. jaskier waits expectantly for any more input, but only several seconds of silence follow. “great,” jaskier chirps, injecting as much false cheer into his voice as he can. “i’ll just... take that as a yes.”

so he gets the witcher a new sword (a softer alloy this time, and one that hopefully won’t shatter at low temperatures like this one did), deducts the price of the scrap metal from the asking price of the sword, and sees the witcher on his merry (sullen, silent) way.

except the witcher keeps coming back.

jaskier has no idea why—it’s not like they offer services that any other smithy doesnt. all he does is sell the witcher (geralt of rivia, he eventually learns from town gossip) swords, the witcher grunts through jaskier’s admittedly meaningless chatter, and then he leaves. occasionally, he shows up twice in one month (once before a hunt to get his sword repaired, and then once after for the same), and then he leaves.

it’s utterly baffling.

but then theodore moore, the cheapskate bandit who passes through twice a year in order to spend all of his illegitimate money, drowns in the river while he’s stumbling through the forest drunk.

and then people start disappearing.

it takes until the little girl from down the road disappears while she’s picking flowers in the forest for the townspeople to seriously consider the idea of hunkering down and waiting for someone to take care of the problem. jaskier even rides to the nearby city and posts a request for help. maybe geralt will see it.

they spend half a year avoiding the river like the plague, but then people start disappearing from the town square—next to the fountain. then there’s talk of killing the beast themselves, but none of them know what it’s weak to.

when geralt shows up in the smithy one afternoon, white hair brown with dirt and skin smeared with mud, jaskier nearly cries. “thank god you’re here,” he says, and he’d laugh at geralt’s look of confusion if it weren’t for the circumstances. “we have a job for you.”

if he’d thought geralt was a wall to talk to before, it’s nothing when compared to how quickly geralt stiffens and closes off. jaskier didn’t even know that geralt had been slowly relaxing around him until right then, and a pang of regret echoes through him. “what is it,” he says flatly.

“a man drowned in the river last year,” jaskier explains. “and now six people are dead.” when geralt turns around without another word, jaskier has to scramble around the counter and tug him back. “wait, you can’t just leave—people are dying.”

geralt stares at him, unimpressed. “do you want me to kill it from in here?”

oh. jaskier laughs weakly. “of course, how could i have doubted you, master witcher.”

geralt turns to leave again and actually looks a bit annoyed when jaskier holds him fast. “what is it now?”

“i’m coming with you,” jaskier says firmly.

at least geralt doesn’t laugh in his face. “no.”

“look,” jaskier begins, and swears that he sees geralt roll his eyes. “i’m not—trained in combat, per se, but i can strike a few blows. i work with swords for a living! i can be backup?”

“this isn’t a game.” the furrow between geralt’s eyebrows grows the slightest bit deeper, like the world’s tiniest frown. “you could die.”

“i’ll keep out of the way,” jaskier throws in cajolingly. he’s not sure why he’s fighting so hard to join in on an expedition that will very likely lead to his death, but now that he’s started, he may as well go all in.

geralt just grunts and pulls his arm out of jaskier’s grasp, but he doesn’t do anything to stop jaskier when he grabs a sword and a scabbard and follows on his heels.

(this is where geralt wows jaskier with his fancy silver sword, and jaskier hardly needs to do anything other than gape on the sidelines as geralt dispatches theodore moore—a drowner now, he reminds himself—with brutal efficiency)

jaskier ends up arguing for higher pay for geralt bc of course he does, and manages to get geralt to sit down for a pint of ale in the tavern. jaskier travels but he doesn’t travel, and although geralt isn’t the best conversationalist, he does have some tales.

this ends with jaskier puzzling his way around making a silver sword and maybe getting a mage to imbue it with some magical runes or whatever it is that they do in their ivory towers, and he presents it to geralt the next time he comes by. geralt, being geralt, doesn’t do much else than take it with him while he’s leaving, but jaskier sees it strapped to his back the next time he stops by in the town, and geralt actually asks him to repair it at some point (!!) which is not smth that he’s ever done before.

geralt also starts bringing jaskier things which jaskier is utterly delighted by because it means that geralt has been paying attention while jaskier rambles at him the few times that they manage to sit down in the tavern together. this continues on for years and years and jaskier steadily grows fonder and fonder until he has a Realization one day when he’s looking at a sunflower and thinking abt how it matches the color of geralt’s eyes that goddamn he’s in love with a witcher.

(my Actual Prose runs out here but i’m envisioning jaskier putting those jeweler skills to use in fashioning geralt useful but also pretty pieces of jewelry as courting gifts until one day jaskier is just like “god you’re so fucking dumb” and just kisses him happily ever after the end)

[yongiefilms]

FILM | Together Alone

BASED ON | The NCT secret santa collaboration feature done by bumblebeenct and lucaswithnoshirt studios over @neoculturechristmas​ headquarters 

DEDICATED TO | My own precious secret santa, @sly-merlin​! This one is for you my love. I hope I did you justice for the type of fic you requested and I hope you like it! By the way I apologize for getting your present to you late.

STARRING | Huang Renjun and Female Reader

FEATURING | Lee Donghyuck 

GENRE | Romance, Drama, Angst, Fluff, Business centred, and Holiday centred

RATING | PG-13

WARNINGS | Thematic elements, suggestive references and implications, crude humor, language, mentions of death, a deceased parent, drinking, alcohol, and other adult themes

PLOT | Everyone knew him. The heir to the multimillion dollar company. Next in line to inherit the top pharmaceutical business in all of China and South Korea. For being only 20 years old he was the most accomplished person of his age. Set to become the CEO at age 21 on his birthday, nearly a few months away, there was nothing that could deter him down the road for further success. They say he’s envied by most, yet loved all the same. If only people knew who Huang Renjun really was without his family’s name plastered against the walls of society that gave him fame and fortune. Only one would have the chance to find out the truth of his reality and sometimes when that comes near the end of a year shutting close, not everything can end pleasant like one hoped. OR Happy endings might not exist in this messed up world.

RUNNING TIME | 6.4k

DIRECTOR’S NOTE | Happy Holidays, my loves! This work is in honor of you all and the amazing year you all gave me with your immense love as well as support. I appreciate every single one of you more than you will ever know so I wish happy days among you this season and new year. I love you and please enjoy! Also, shout out to my lovely proofreader, @dvrlingrenjun​, you’re the best.

1, 2, 3 Now Rolling...

“Fuck them all!” Huang Renjun yells out in frustration, leaning back abruptly in his black cushioned chair, his hands clutching tightly at his dark strands of hair.

The younger boy smirks at him, leaning against the pillar by his office. “Wouldn’t you like that?”

A glare was sent in his direction in retaliation. “Shut up, Donghyuck.”

“Sure, big guy,” he dismisses, the jab made at the older visible with the way his words cut through the air. “Still doesn’t render the fact that you have to go to this event like you always do.”

Renjun groans, his right hand going around his left wrist to play with the gold Cartier bracelet that rested there. A gift given to him when he turned the legal age of eighteen a few years ago. A gift given to him by his father, on behalf of his mother or so it was said. One that was a promise of luxury and achievement if he continued down the path they set out for him. His decision then when he was an adult to decide his fate, but that was only a lie. The bracelet was only a bribe for a materialistic life where he could be well off and if he stepped away then he would be stripped of everything that made him who he was. 

“I know, okay? We do it every year but that still doesn't take away from the fact that I hate it. I hate all of it.”

Perhaps his father was a part of that.

“Well,” Donghyuck drawls, shrugging his shoulders when he lifts his body off the pillar to take long strides in order to reach the other boy. “At least it’s out of town this year so I’m down...I mean free vacation.” He gives a toothy grin, his eyes sparkling of juvenescence and a thrill for adventure, mystery, excitement. At least one of them still had a childlike soul and a more or less normal life while the other was forced to grow up too fast in the spotlight where eyes were scrutinizing his every move before he could even walk.

They called it maturity, but Renjun calls it loss of youth. 

“You’re such a freeloader,” Renjun mutters, his hands stopping from playing with the bracelet to glance up in exasperation.

“Says the boy inheriting an almost billion dollar company without batting an eye,” Donghyuck snorts with an eye roll, picking at his nails that now gained all of his attentiveness.

It was true after all.

Renjun laughs in mockery. “You’re just jealous, so I wouldn’t be talking if I were you.”

Donghyuck sighs loudly for effect. “Cous, I wouldn’t want your life even if I tried. Some horrifying shit.” He shakes his head, obviously disturbed by the notion.

Renjun’s voice becomes small, yet firm. “It isn’t that bad...”

Donghyuck finally stops twiddling with his fingers to give the other the time of day with a look of obvious reluctance. “Uncle is scary, can you blame me?”

“Guess not, that man is my father.”

“Exactly and as much as I would love to continue this conversation,” Donghyuck glances at his crisp navy steel Bulgari watch, seeing the time half past noon. “I got to run, meeting with the boys soon and I just needed to deliver the message before that. Little pit stop if you will.” His hands flair out in a theatrical motion as if he were giving a bow.

“Oh?” Renjun raises an eyebrow, hands reaching out to get started on the stack of papers placed at the edge of his desk by his receptionist before Donghyuck’s surprised arrival. “Say hi to them for me.” He pauses in afterthought, knowing the younger’s antics. “Or not.”

Donghyuck’s boisterous laugh rings. He knew him so well. “Very funny, but oh, wait!” 

The increase in his tone attracts the older’s regard who was beginning to read through the proposal. “Yes?”

“Here,” Donghyuck states, reaching into the back pocket of his chinos to pull out a small black velvet box with gold edging. “An early present of sorts. I assumed you might like it.” He slides the box over on the desk where it is caught in the grasp of delicate hands.

“Proposing are we? You know we are related right?” Renjun smiles snidely, running his fingers over the soft velvet in wonder. It was rare to get a gift from Lee Donghyuck himself and with the right intentions at that. 

“It would be an honor and privilege to marry me, thank you, but no it’s just...open it when I leave. I’m not into that sappy shit as you know. I have a matching one too, but yeah merry early Christmas and New Years.” His easy grin widens as he winks to take backward steps to the exit of the office. Always one for a dramatic flare.

“Matching...we can’t be a couple either, Hyuck,” Renjun says, shaking his head while he puts the box down on his desk in wait.

Donghyuck flips him off and grits out a reply. “Shut up and be grateful for once.”

Turning his head back to his papers, he mutters, “Oh, I am.”

“Anyways, bye you fucker. Don’t drown in work,” Donghyuck lets out once he turns his back.

“Thank you for caring, delivery boy,” Renjun shouts as his cousin finally opens the door to exit after his much longer than anticipated stay.

Donghyuck’s hands still on the silver knob before he can fully push the door. “When don’t I? If you’re gone then that means I would have to inherit the company and as much as I would love the money, the fame, the attention, maybe even the girls...I don’t want that responsibility. You get me?”

Renjun rolls his eyes, spinning the black ballpoint pen between his index and ring finger. “Just say you’re lazy and go.”

“I am going!” Donghyuck exclaims while he turns his head over his shoulder, shooting the boy sitting at the desk that didn’t quite fit him well, another wink. “Bye for real, Junnie!”

The door at last closes and he is gone in a blur of colors.

Renjun mumbles under his breath. “I told you not to call me that.” 

His mother used to call him that and she didn’t have the chance to stay long in this world. Taken too soon is what they say, but maybe she was blessed before everything turned to stone. 

With Donghyuck’s departure, Renjun looks over at the lone box that was gifted to him, perhaps not a gift like the others that held no meaning, for this one was an outlier in the equation. Donghyuck never gave without meaning or gain so it had to be special.

He places his pen down and picks up the box, undoing the clasp that held it close. The box opens to a sight he has gotten used to, yet there was a disparity. In between the cushion of the velvet laid a beautiful silver Chopard ring. The band was simple in design, yet intricate with the signature ice cubes filled with small sparkling diamonds across the entire width. Renjun handles the ring with care once it is taken out of the box to inspect every detail. Not only was the brand engraved in stunning cursive on the inside, but Donghyuck had gotten the ring customized with the word family in the same writing on the opposite side of the inner circle. 

Renjun runs his fingers over the engraving, the words rough under his calloused hands. He hums in thought as he slips the ring on his middle finger, the radiance seeping in from the windows catching the precious metal. “Family...family...I haven’t had one in a long time.”

The truth is he had, has, but he was too blind to see. 

Family is not just those that are immediate, composing of a father and mother or even siblings. Family can also entail the greater extent from cousins to aunts to grandparents. Family can even be those that are not blood related like the friends a person surrounds themselves by. 

Renjun has family. If only he could acknowledge them before they too left him utterly alone. 

Alone was something Renjun was not for the days to come. 

A week later after his cousin delivered the news about the annual holiday vacation and company sponsored events that his family has been hosting since his late teen years, he was flown in a private plane against his will to a remote town near Busan, far off from the heart of Seoul. He would rather spend the holidays in the city where he grew up like all those past seasons ago, but his father decided there was a need for change, a mirror of one forthcoming in virtually three months. Usually those that made the trip came for the designated three days they were given which still involved work communications with scant room for relaxation depending on the schedules of selected individuals. However, if one was a Huang, which Renjun was the only one left along with his father that were at least part of the business, then departure and stay differed. Intermingled was the Huang winter vacation with that of business affairs, a factor that was born when the tradition started. His father always said to kill two birds with one stone when given the chance and this very situation was one he took hold of to morph into a personal gain. 

Nothing was ever as it seemed with his father, nor himself. One characteristic they shared among a hundred to a thousand polarities.

Albeit this time around, Renjun had fought against his father’s wants, which was not the first instance, but was one that ended in surprising success. Success he tasted on the daily, even if all was bitter with no room for happiness. However, this success was sweet with contentment, ending with an awfully horrid aftertaste. Convincing his father to fly him out along with the others on the 23rd of December instead of the 20th was a victory no less. At least he didn’t have to spend unwanted days in the presence of his old man longer than necessary. 

He arrives in wealth and social standing like he always did for once his black A.Testoni dress shoes hit the white tiled floor of the airport’s general aviation ramp building, everyone within his general vicinity, even those afar, are taking heed to his every need, that as of now are limited. 

A slightly older woman who he deems as his assistant, comes into view, her black Prada heels clicking loudly against the tile as she advances with a clipboard and her trusty cell in her hands to the boy. She cheerful speaks into the empty building, her smile unwavering. “Mr. Huang, I am glad you had a safe flight. I printed your itinerary for the next couple of days that I will hand to you once we are in the limo. Considering it is…” She glances at her Apple Watch Series 6 to check the time. “Two forty three as of now, we can drop off your luggage at the Lodge and get you settled into your room before your three fifteen lunch with Mr. Kim and his wife at the Yongsusan Café. You will be with them for an hour before the rest of the afternoon is yours to spend productively. Then at six o’clock the maids and stylists will come by to get you ready for the business meeting at seven thirty, following with a small dinner party with those same individuals, including their wives and children. Sounds good?”

Renjun does not even have time to reply before his assistant speaks again. 

“Yes, okay! Let’s get going then.” She turns on her heel abruptly, yet with expertise without room for error and begins taking steps away from the plane to the left. “The limo should be this way, follow me while your luggage gets loaded. The drive should not take more than ten minutes.” 

He has no choice but to accompany her as he would not be able to make a run for it, he will be caught within seconds. He tried once and that was only one failure amongst little to none in his book. 

His strides are slow and lousy as if he had all the time in the world to do as he pleased, when he in fact did not, far from it in actuality. Even so before he knows it he reaches the limo and is lurched forward in motion towards his destination for the next few days. The place his dad selected oozes with sumptuous intent, being a gorgeous mid-century modern wooden lodge that nearly looked like a manor upon inspection. As the limo pulls up to the front, Renjun is able to see the beauty up close that he is entranced by even if he seems unfazed. New places and people excite him more than he lets on for his life is dull, lacking fulfillment of an unknown tomorrow. 

The porter, who is situated in patience by the front doors, strides forward to open the door of the limo, permitting Renjun to step out with the authority and grace bestowed upon him. 

When he crosses the threshold into the Lodge he is met with an even better interior that rivaled that on the outside, but he is not allowed to ponder too much on the design before the head manager greets him.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Huang, it is certainly a pleasure for you to stay with us at the Lodge this fine holiday season. I am Gwan Jang-Mi and I will be showing you to your room today along with giving you a small tour of this place in order to familiarize yourself with the setting. If you look here to your left…”

Her speech is drowned out into obscurity as Renjun’s awareness shifts to another woman, one so stunning that he is surprised he did not take notice sooner. When sauntering through the entryway into the resting room that will be cleared out in the next couple of hours, a bar is situated to the left where you stand, arranging countless bottles of liquor to wine on the counter, no doubt for the little party later or for the meeting. Those men were heavy drinkers and needed alcohol to make it through the rest of the evening. Renjun did drink to drown his sorrows, worry, and anxiousness away, but he was not one to throw himself down a spiraling hole of darkness nor chaos that he could not get out of, for those consequences were ones he did not want to reap.

The soft sunlight peaks through the high guarded windows, shining down on your face that enunciates your features. For simply being in a black polo and khaki pants, you made it work and drew all attention to yourself without even knowing the power you held. 

The moment of admiration comes to a close when Renjun is ushered away from the ground floor to make way to his room in the upper levels, leaving you behind.

Yet that would not be the last time.

Time goes by slowly when there is no purpose, no meaning to the daily workings of one person in the masses of others. Renjun has experience in that regard, time always goes by slowly for him and exhausts him a great deal like a rotary clock that seeks no end. 

He was worn out by the time he got back to the Lodge in the early evening due to the stay with the Kims went longer than necessary and he was called elsewhere upon emergency to discuss future matters. He did not have time for himself like his assistant had plainly made known so there he was, collapsed head first into his silk covers, ten minutes to six. 

Instead of taking a long awaited nap he is ushered up and into more formal wear after a cleanse from the bustle of bodies that barge into his room. 

No privacy. No sense of normality. 

That is the normal. 

The next few hours go by in blur from him sitting in front of a mirror to have his hair styled to sitting in front of burly old men that were associates and inventors of the company in a grad meeting room with locked doors and the finest assortment of liquor that money can buy. 

He is out of the confines in no time, not even bothering to say one final hurrah before he lurches himself out the door and into the now cleared out resting room. One of the servers comes by then dressed in all black attire that was nothing of the typical black and white uniform, edging towards a usual guest. Renjun snatches a glass of sparkling champagne and gulps it down in one go off their silver platter, discreetly of course, for he has to look composed—sober throughout the entire affair. He always could hold his alcohol without a problem and he felt blessed to have that advantage. One thing he is proud of. 

He is whisked away not even moments after by one of the older investors, Mr. Han, to moreover chew over the end of the year budget and his stance on future decisions to be made in the new year. From the corner of his eye while listening to the man talk in a flamboyant manner, he sees his father standing with a glass of white wine happily talking to another investor, a more influential one, the most influential one of them all and his wife along with their daughter who was not even carefully surveying the room in search of someone.

Renjun’s eyes widen in shock, mumbling under his breath, “Shit.”

Mr. Han stops the flow of words out his mouth, his eyebrows rumpling together. He did not hear the swear word the boy uttered, yet he heard something in passing. “Pardon?”

Renjun shakes his head vaguely, bringing his third glass of champagne in the air as a sign of departure. “Ah excuse me, Mr. Han, but it seems I have been beckoned elsewhere.” His eyes shift over to his father who was not making direct eye contact with him, but Mr. Han did not need to know that little detail as he observes Renjun’s line of sight. 

Mr. Han chuckles brightly. “I see, well I must not keep you from your father.”

Renjun smiles. “No, you must not, but we shall continue this conversation later, Mr. Han. I am sure you have much more to say and I will happily discuss further with you.”

Mr. Han waves his hand in the air nonchalantly. “We shall. Now off you go.” 

Renjun nods his head, his lips still quirked up in a smile, this one more genuine than the last, as he makes a beeline towards his father to make everything seem more believable. Though once he no longer feels the eyes of Mr. Han on his retreating back he switches routes, going to the left rather than straight ahead. He circles around the opposite side, catching a stark mop of washed out red hair amongst the crowd in the process—Donghyuck. His cousin is not alone, however, talking rather freely with a girl he could not quite see in his peripheral vision. The grin on Donghyuck’s face is undeniable even with his back turned and the way Renjun hears the tiny giggles you are emitting, all is too familiar, which is the perfect cause for a disruption.

Renjun does not acknowledge his cousin when he arrives at the bar, the younger boy too immersed in conversation so he signals for the other worker that comes becking to his call. 

“A Negroni, on the rocks.”

The girl nods in understanding and turns to prepare the drink while Donghyuck still has not noticed his presence. The younger boy always did focus on what was in front of him rather than on his surroundings, contrary to his cousin that saw the whole picture. Two contrasting people surely with unlike futures ahead of them. 

The frosted glass with the reddish-orange liquid and topped with orange shavings is served to him a minute later, placed in front of him on a matching glass coaster.

He clears his throat loudly in an attempt to catch Donghyuck’s attention. “Thank you.” 

A method that proves effective since the younger boy finally turns his head to the right to see Renjun sitting on the barstool next to him, sipping casually on his high class Negroni. 

His eyes are wide, but he masks his shock with a subtle smirk. “Jun! Well, well, if it isn’t the mini man himself. How long have you been sitting there?” 

Renjun snorts into his glass, shaking his head at the dig Donghyuck made at his height, always one out for blood. “Far too long to have noticed your flirting from across the room, Hyuck.” It is now his turn to smirk, but Donghyuck’s own is still unfaltering.

“I take pride in my skills, glad you gave your time of day to notice.” He elevates his glass up then, filled most likely with a Nicolashka, his favorite holiday drink to date, and takes a sip himself, a move Renjun mimics.

Then your voice interrupts. “Sorry to cut in, but I have to get back to work. You’ve been distracting me for the last ten minutes, mister.” Your stern gaze is directed at Donghyuck from the latter statement. Although once your words are uttered, Renjun focuses his eyes on you, scrutinizing your appearance. The very girl he saw earlier today, the girl Donghyuck so happened to have a chance with before him—you.

Donghyuck laughs, the smirk morphing into a shiteating grin. “I told you, call me Hyuck.”

“Well, Hyuck, I have to get back to work...plus I am sure you want to talk to your friend.” Your gaze flickers to Renjun in that instance and lingers there longer than necessary that has him laughing to himself. 

Donghyuck’s charm only goes so far. 

The younger boy peers at Renjun when you utter out friend, and he smiles small in remorse. “Sadly, but do not let me keep you from your work.”

You turn your back on him, your eyes catching Renjun’s in the process before you look away from the intensity of the dark orbs. “I wasn’t planning on it.” 

You leave the bar area then most likely to put on an apron that Renjun noticed you had not worn throughout the entire duration. Donghyuck simply distracted you before the start of your shift and after, not a good trait to inherit. 

Donghyuck hums, but let’s the remark go as he fully turns to Renjun to start up that conversation. 

He raises an eyebrow. “Must you always keep me from having fun?” 

Renjun shrugs his shoulders, swishing the liquid in his glass. “Not always, but I was saving that girl from misery. You should be thankful that I care enough.” 

Donghyuck taunts. “Oh wow I feel so special.”

Renjun sternly eyes him, his voice lowering. “You should.”

Donghyuck’s lips open to retort a response, but no words are spoken on his end for his eyes look over the older boy’s shoulders and he catches sight of someone none of them truly like or have liked after the incident. He sees her.

“Well fuck, here comes the devil,” is all he makes out and the phrase enough has Renjun turning his own head hastily to see who he was watching. Such is when he sees his ex-girlfriend, Cha Yeona, prowling straight towards their way.

“I’m going to go...so good luck, mate. You’ll need it.” Donghyuck pats Renjun’s shoulder in departure and his gesture of sympathy, leaving him in the wake of a girl he really did not wish to see or converse with. 

Once he leaves the bar in quick speed, you come in at that exact moment, your eyes zoning in on the way Yeona’s dainty hand latches onto Renjun’s forearm in greeting. You turn away from the image, busying yourself with wiping down the glasses. 

“Oh! What a lovely surprise,” Yeona voices, letting her hand maneuver down to place on top of Renjun’s hand in which she gives him a faint squeeze thereof. He flinches from the contact, retracting his hand to slip into the pocket of his Burberry blazer while the other rims his glass. 

He peers at her intently, a potency that has her giggling nervously. His looks could kill whenever he was serious with a blank face and austere hollows of eyes. “Hello, Yeona.”

She sits down gracefully on the stool next to him, crossing her long unblemished legs over each other, her hands placed in her lap. Her smile is bright and makes him want to pull out his hair. She was always two-faced. “Hi Jun Jun! How have you been?”

He lets the pet name go, but does not glance at her again, looking over her head at the white lights strung outside. “Good.”

Silence engulfs them that has her fidgeting out of discomfort. He evidently did not want to talk. She reaches her hand out to touch him once more that has him leaning away. She sighs in defeat, retreating from the gesture. She would have to reach him some other way. “Well...I—”

He cuts her off from continuing, drowning the last contents of his drink before he pushes the glass away towards the server at the end of the counter. He puts a hand up. “Save it. I have no reason to talk to you again. Leave.” 

He arches his eyebrow when he sees she makes no move to leave and he chuckles darkly. “Do I have to tell you again? Or should I have security escort you out?”

She flinches from the tone of his voice and gulps, her throat becoming exceptionally dry. She hurriedly stands up, almost ripping over her heels and departs without a goodbye, not that he wished to get one from her. Her slim body covered in a blood red dress slips into the crowd and Renjun finally releases the breath he was holding. 

He tugs at the strands of his gelled back hair. “Fucking bitch,” he mutters, lifting a finger in the air to signal for another drink that the server speedily moves to make. 

“A little harsh, don’t you think?”

Renjun lifts his eyes to see you gaping at him, an eyebrow uplifted in fascination as you finally were in your uniform, a white cloth draped over your shoulders. Renjun runs his hand through his hair and scoffs from the remark thereafter. He was sure the stylists would be upset to see him dishevel their mighty work, but he could care less.

He shakes his head, the strands of hair rustling. “No, I think not. She deserves it.”

“Wow. Again, harsh.” You laugh mockingly and grab his drink that was slid over by your coworker to clean the glass again. You place the beverage down on the coaster which he takes with pleasure, muttering a small thank you that you can barely hear amidst the classical music playing in the background. Your hands make contact for a split second that has tingles erupting on your end, in a rather cliche response, yet he made no move of the feeling. 

There is quietness again that makes you flustered since you were never one to enjoy the muted scenery, always wanting a sound ringing in your ears. While Renjun enjoyed the still, always wanting a sound that faded in the wind and never made a comeback appearance. 

In a desperate attempt to keep conversation while making yourself busy by fixing up the bottles of alcohol, you propose a question that invades his privacy, whilst he never had privacy to begin with, a factor you were left in the dark about.

“So...um...your girlfriend?” You ask, in regards to Yeona that left some minutes ago. 

Renjun snorts, placing down his glass and interlocks his hand to rest his chin on, a move to focus solely on you. “Right. She’s my ex-girlfriend actually so you’re not entirely wrong.”

You mumble out a quiet, “Oh.” It was not your business to know his affairs after all, yet there was a voice nagging within that made you curious to find out every part of him.

The tranquility hugs the both of you once more, until he questions you out of the blue. 

“You want to get out of here?”

To say you are shocked is an understatement, since you are in fact bamboozled beyond belief. He says the declaration with so much firmness and certainty, it has your heart twisting on the inside.

You lightly laugh to mask the shock and turn around to really look at him, a look that he reciprocates. “I don’t even know you.”

A keen smile is visible on his lips. “Exactly the point. You have nothing to lose.”

You shake your head, leaning against the counter of the bar to stare into his eyes that look so lifeless, yet beautiful. “Maybe, but this is my job. I can’t just bail.” 

He leans his head closer to you, an act that allows you to a whiff of the Christian Dior Ambre Nuit cologne he wears and his minty fresh breath. “Of course you can.” His soothing voice turns teasing as he smirks. “Don’t worry I won’t tell.” 

You scoff to yourself, surprised by his mannerisms of outforwardness. You look around then to see if anyone is watching the two of you, but all eyes are elsewhere and you let out a sigh of relief. Another girl comes into the bar when you glance to the side, most likely to cover the next shift that was not yours quite yet, be that as it may you did have a break coming up. 

Renjun outstretches his hand in patience, his smirk slowly growing, even if it was borderlining a smile that you could see right through. He hums in anticipation and you give in.

“Okay fine, but not for too long,” you say as you rest your hand in his. The cold of your fingers meet his warm ones and you latch on for dear life, afraid to let go. 

He grins at you and squeezes your hand. “No promises.” 

Then he proceeds to drag you out of the bar, tugging you to who knows where. The tingle of a secret keeps you on your toes and you become giddy, laughing along the halls as he steers you left, right, straight, left, right, up...a never ending cycle of adventure.

“Where exactly are you taking me?” You ask after gaining the courage. He is intimidating in some regards, the thought of how he acted towards his ex-girlfriend as visible as day in your mind.

He shrugs, finally slowing down. “Who knows. Could be outside in the cold or near a fireplace in the warm. You will just have to see.”

“That certainly gives me no direction at all.”

He turns his head to look at you and stops suddenly, having you nearly crash into his back before he tugs you to the other side. He chuckles when he sees your horrified face from almost busting your nose. “That was the point, darling.”

You huff in annoyance when he continues walking, the pressure of his fingers around your own feels heavier as time drags on and your heart has no sense of calm, constricting with the name of endearment that slipped past his slim lips.

“Okay, we are here!” He announces and lets go of your hand, the bareness of his heat leaving you shivering. You take a step back from planting your feet firmly on the floor and glance around the room in which he stopped. It was one of the upper level rooms with strict access only to the most wealthy of the associates and investors. His family must be one of those highly regarded, if only you knew how highly regarded his family is, being the ones with the most status, the most affluent lifestyle. However, you would remain clueless.

“Oh, wow. The view up here is amazing.”

Renjun laughs, placing his hands in the front pocket of his slacks as he strolls around the room, glancing at the glowing fire that was left on and the books that were sealed shut. “Trust me, I am well aware. Why do you think I brought you up here?” He gives you an exasperated stare, peering past at the giant window you stood in front of that showcased the whole town, now covered in sleek white snow. It must have snowed while he was conversing with others at the party for when he arrived at the meeting hours ago, the land was void.

The white flakes are still falling outside, delicately covering everything in one uniform color that leaves you in awe and he is left admiring you, how at peace you are. How free you look, an emotion he never held onto in his entire life.

“So besides admiring this view, what are we doing up here?” You ask, your fingertips grazing the cool frosted glass of the window, seeing beyond to the endless landscape and twinkling stars along with lights of the houses nearby.

Renjun answers bluntly. “Admiring the view.”

You can’t stop the titters from escaping you and you roll your eyes, an action he sees through the reflection.

He steps forward, coming up besides your figure to look more clearly at the breathtaking scenery of a winter wonderland. “No, I’m joking...at least partially.” 

You giggle some more, interlocking your hands in front of you. “I didn’t know you had it in you to joke.”

It is now his turn to laugh. “Darling, I have a lot in me that you don’t know.”

You sigh solemnly, taking a step back to turn around, examining the other objects around the room. “Oh, I’m sure.” 

He is an enigma waiting to be unraveled, but you would not be the one to solve his case and that alone is an idea that scares you. 

Before you can get farther away, his hand wraps around your wrist, preventing you from escape. You peer down at his hand then up to his eyes, your eyebrows scrunching together in perplexity.

He does not speak, only drags you into him to where you are now chest to chest, only an inch of distance between your bodies. The closeness between the two of you leaves you breathless and gasping for air. His thumb carrasses your arm and runs down to the palm of your hand, enveloping his fingers around your skin. Your eyes are trailing the movements and you take a sharp intake of breath, curious as to what can happen next. He hooks his other free index finger under your chin to lift your face up so he can see you in distinct luminosity.

You have gazed at his eyes practically all evening, but nothing has prepared you for seeing him up close. He is even more handsome in full definition from the lines on his soft pink lips to his perfectly tousled hair. 

“You’re beautiful,” he mutters, his thumb running along your cupid’s bow. “Absolutely and breathtakingly beautiful.”

You gulp, the words drying up in your throat for what could you say to his compliment?

Then everything happens at once.

His hand moves to wrap around the back of your head and he tugs you closer by the other until you are pressed up against each other. He lightly pushes your head forward and contact is made. 

Lips against lips. Moving and moving against each other, taking all your breath away for the second time within a span of a few seconds. 

He lets go of holding your hand and wraps his arm around your waist, to pull you closer if such is even possible. To make the contact more tender and desirable.

You suppose desire is that which allows the moment to escalate further. From a mere innocent kiss to a fiery passion of craving for more. 

When your lips separate, he does not think twice before grabbing your hand once more and dragging you down the long corridor to arrive at his secluded room around the corner.

He opens the door with haste as you come tumbling in after him, grabbing, pulling, tugging until all that is left is just you and him.

The frantic beats of two hearts. 

The heat of skin pressed against skin. 

Simply two bodies that became one all due to the desire floating around the room and pushing you to the limit. 

You lost yourself in him that night and he in you. 

Lost to the pure ecstasy of pleasure during the season of joy and love.

Yet the season could also be one for giving and taking.

You wake to a cold bed the next morning.

Gone is the warmth of a boy who made you feel like you were on top of the world, someone special enough to demand notice and have anything that is asked for. 

Gone is the sweet nothings he whispered in your ear, the words of assurance, comfort, and false love that made you feel worth it and simply protected.

Gone is the long lingering touches of his fingers pressing into you and dancing along the lines of your body to explore and learn.

Gone is the feeling of his lips on your skin that was enough to ignite you ablaze and leave you seeing all the colors of the rainbow.

Gone is he—Huang Renjun. 

All that remains of the remembrance from the night is the note he left by the oak bedside table, one that crushed the dream of longing and hope within. One that slapped you with the crude reality of who he truly was, is, in a place that you did not belong to and never would. 

Thanks for last night, but it’s a one time thing. You can see yourself out. Happy holidays.

He signed the note with his initials, H.R. and his family’s embroidered seal. 

Then you realize in that moment, your bare body covered in his silk covers in the large suite he had all to himself, that the holidays are not for everyone. 

You can either be together with someone else or alone by yourself. 

Never the two. 

Always one or the other. 

You had hoped to be together yet alone with him in privacy to make your own memories away from prying eyes, but at the end of the day you were by yourself and he was too.

That is how life works in this sick, twisted world.

Men against men. Women against women. Everyone against everyone.

Alone.

Never together. 

Like he and you.

[ickymichi]

stay with me.

[itadori yuuji x reader]

<3 summary: your annual saturday night sleepover with yuuji was as normal and joyful as always. except at an odd hour there was a certain thought that wouldn’t stop swirling around his mind.

<3 warnings: fluff fluff fluff!! ,angst(only a small bit i promise), yuuji being sad:((

<3 a/n: hii!! this is my first ever actual fic so don’t judge it too harshly i’m not that happy with it but anyways. hope you enjoy it and please like or reblog! <3

8:26pm

an enthusiastic knock echoed through yuuji’s room shaking him out of his manga that he was currently buried in. “(y/n)!! i missed you so much!” he exclaimed as he threw open the door wrapping his arms around your frame. “i saw you yesterday yu’” you giggled as he he set you down and took your sleepover bag from you for you to step into his oh so familiar room.

“i was thinking we could finish watching {insert show}, we only have a few episodes left. then, hold on, hold on look what i got us”. you try look over his shoulder to see what he was getting from a plastic bag. “no peeking!!” “sorry yuuji sorry i couldn’t help it”. you try to guess what it could be, hopefully nothing to expensive that he had to break his bank on.

“ta-da!! i got us face masks, headbands and nail polish!” he makes a show of turning around and displaying the said items. you could feel your heart swell at the action and how thoughtful he is. “yuuji this is so sweet, i can’t wait to do it all!” you say looking at what face masks he got for the night ahead. you really couldn’t wait!

9:17pm

you’ve both changed into your pyjamas, well you couldn’t really say that for yuuji, he was just in his plaid pj bottoms and as always, even in the height of winter, no t-shirt. you tried to get him to wear one in case he got a cold but he claimed that you love the ‘eye candy’.

after an hour, you finished the final episodes of the show you both were invested in, followed by a few tears over the death of a certain character. but this meant you could finally have your little self care night!. “which one do you want bub?” you asked yuuji as he stood behind you looking at the selection in front of both of you. placing his head on your shoulder and letting out a long “hmmmmm”, indicating he was having a hard time picking. “how about this one” you point to one that supposedly removes dead skin and leaves your skin feeling new and regenerated. “it matches your hair” “woah your right it does! i’ll use this one” he said excitedly lifting his head and examining the package. you go for a hydrating and ‘anti aging’ one instead. you spot the headbands he picked out aswell and wonder which one to pick. you pick them both up to see what they actually look like. one is pink,fluffy and had a bow on it. the other was white, also fluffy but on top it had bunny ears. you knew straight away which one you were giving yuuji. when you turn around to give him his headband your faced with disaster. he’s spreading the pink face mask unevenly all over random parts of his face and most of it is on the sink or his fingers. “oh no yu’ let me help” you laugh at his situation as he looks over at you and softly smiles, laughing with you as you make your way to help him apply it. “but first you need your headband silly” “oh yeah i forgot whoopsies” you help him wash off the messed up layer then put the headband on before he can see which it is. “of course you give me the bunny one” he sends you a glare through the mirror as he sees what he looks like. “what do you mean it suits you so much, my big cute bunny boy” you laugh and wrap your arms around his strong frame. “ yeah yeah i’m sure it does” you can tell without even looking up at him he’s pretending to be annoyed. “cmon let’s put yours on so we can match” he tells you while lifting you onto the counter so he can stand between your legs.

10:45. the rest of the night flew by with the amount of fun you were having. yuuji let you paint his nails while he did, a somewhat good job of yours. you had a mini photo shoot while waiting for the masks to dry, one of which is now yuujis lock screen. but now, your pooped tucked up under the covers, head on yuujis chest, one of his arms wrapped around you while you watch him scroll through tiktok on his phone. eventually the harsh light of the screen tires your eyes and you fall asleep without realising or getting to say goodnight to yuuji.

3:34am. a hushed noise and a sudden movement shook you awake from the deep slumber you were once in. still half asleep you try and feel around for yuuji but felt nothing. “mmh..yuuji.. are you there?” you couldn’t really see as your eyes were still adjusting to the darkness, but through his thin curtains the light from the moon shone into his room allowing you to see his broad frame sitting up and his shoulders shaking every few seconds.

the room was filled with silence until you heard a broken sob come from his chest. the noise sent a shiver down your spine and you quickly rose up to sit beside him, rubbing his shoulders and arms trying to comfort him. “ y-yuuji what’s wrong is everything okay? do you want to talk about it?” you didn’t get an answer straight away all you got was more sobs from him and his head still buried in his palms. you reach out to touch his cheeks and lift his head from his hands, now it’s your turn for tears to fill your eyes. now adjusted to the darkness and thanks to the moonlight you could see his eyes red and puffy from crying for god knows how long. “what happened my love, tell me please” you rub your thumb along his cheekbone and tears slowly roll down your own. he takes your hands from his face and falls into your chest, letting out a heart breaking cry into your t-shirt. “i-i.. i don’t want to l-lose you (y/n)” thousands of thoughts start flowing through your head as to why he would think that. just before you could respond he spoke again. “we both know i’m not going to be here forever, once i find all of sukuna’s fingers that’s it, i’ll be gone. a-and i don’t want to leave you”. of course you both knew that was going to eventually happen but- “ oh no, why focus on the future yuuji?, we’re here in the present, having so much fun everyday we can. and so what if you find them all tomorrow or years later, i’ll still be around and then, i can find you again, maybe in another life but for now, you just stay with me, here in the present and don’t worry about anything else okay?” by the time you finish he’s looking at you, fat tears still spilling from his eyes. his mouth moving like it’s trying to form a sentence but he doesn’t know what to say. all he knows what to say is: “i..i love you (y/n). so much it hurts, but not in a bad way in the best way i can mean it. i need you, god i need you so badly, nothing means more to me in this world than you. you help me get up in the morning and go to sleep at night, i couldn’t do anything without you. so can you just, stay with me for a little longer? please?” he finds himself back in his previous position with his head in your chest and your fingers stroking his hair. “i wasn’t planning on leaving any time soon silly, your stuck with me for a while” you tell him as you guide him to lay back down to where he was when you fell asleep. “i wouldn’t want it any other way pretty girl” he mumbles into your hair wrapping both arms around you, pulling you closer to him so you can smell the comforting smell of him that you love. “i love you yuuji,never forget that ‘kay?” you whisper while tracing hearts on his torso. “‘kay, i promise, pinky promise.” you look to see him holding up his pinky with a warm smile on his face. you laugh softly as you link pinkies, sealing the promises he made forever.

-end

[shortiedreams]

Nobles in the night

Requested by @jwxei

Pairing: Bakugo x (fem) Reader 

Synopsis: You’re a princess set out to kill the king of your nation. Will you succeed?

Word count: 1,821

CW: Attempted murder

A/N: Played ‘Phantom of the Opera’ soundtracks whilst writing this. Dying right now ✌️

_

“The hour of the ball has transpired.” a hushed voice came from behind the entrance.

With the help of his usual dynamic tone, Bakugo immediately recognises the familiar voice of his fidus Achates, Kirishima Eijiro. 

“Very well.” he sighs, and Kirishima could almost hear a frown through his raspy voice. 

None of this was going the way Bakugo wanted it to, yet he couldn’t back out anymore; it was simply too late.

“I’ll be taking my leave then, your majesty.” Kirishima reports.

“Please do.”

Bakugo examines his profile in the gilded mirror. He glowers at his own reflection, how outlandish he looked in his formal attire. Even short of the mantle cloak he was supposed to wear tonight, everything about what he’s dressed himself was far too extravagant for his liking.

He poses again with several new angles as if his judgements will change in one swift movement, but of course, it still feels improper.

He drops his eyes in defeat, succumbing to the unadorned fact that he was going to have to get used to the policies of being king.

He has no idea why everyone worshipped the throne. All he ever wanted was to live a secluded life with his family and friends. 

In actuality, that was what he had before the Mediterranean War a year prior to the present, wiping out the entirety of his family, ergo his newfound entitlement: the king. Kirishima was the only part of his childhood that remained, the only part of his childhood he still had physical contact with. It wasn’t surprising to say that he was very attached to the man, granting him the chancellor’s position. 

Which is why with Kirishima and his family’s former support, it was impossible for him to deny the tradition of the annual ball no matter how much he opposes it. He hates the notion of prattling aristocrats shattering his peace and quietness. Even more so of his invitation to you, the Princess of Agathinos, under the monarchy’s recommendation. This would be the first time a guest with royal blood would visit the palace ever since his family’s death. 

As always, Bakugo initially wanted to decline, but Kirishima advised him that he should accept it since it was ‘time’ for him to start courting. He thought Kirishima was being a nuisance, then again he also didn’t want to be looked down on by the aristocrats. He already knows there are rumours of him, calling him all sorts of names like ‘boorish to women’ or ‘ a  critter of another nation’. 

Bakugo was a smart man, so it didn’t take him much to realise that if he really terminated these accustomed traditions, the public would cause unnecessary commotions. Therefore, for the sake of his future peace and his reputation, the ball is set to commence tonight.

Bakugo snaps out of his sombre daze as he reaches the doors to his chamberlains. He fixes himself, coughs a little, before the doors open and he’s now striding out into the hallway. 

Two handmaids are waiting outside his chambers on cue, guiding him to the ballroom. Bakugo glances around the normally dimmed hall, spotting the marshals line-up in armour and the walls decorated with large candles and Renaissance artifacts. He could hear the distant melodies of the orchestra, currently playing some melodramatic composition. Amidst the lively energy of the hall, Bakugo thought that these attributes only made the area more inhumane.

Bakugo soon enters the top of the stairway, where he adjusts himself as he sits on his throne. He doesn’t even get a few seconds to himself and the guests are already flooding into the ballroom, producing a discord between the music and the chatters. 

“Just great.” he grumbles to himself, resting his chin atop a fisted hand.

_

“For the stead of my parents and the kingdom.” you remind yourself.

You too were sitting in front of your vanity mirror, questioning yourself of your affairs. 

You stare into the mirror long and hard. The dress you were currently wearing is the embodiment of an icy blue oasis. The crystal embroidery embellished on the outermost tulle of the skirt was your definition of a wintery wonderland. The rest of your body was touched up with matching accessories too: diamond earrings, silk gloves and silver hair ornaments. Everything about your outfit shone under the moonlight, but you didn’t, you merely blended in with the dark. Especially with the expression you were holding, no one was going to see you as a ‘princess’.

The reason for your morose mien was your parents, who weren’t attending the ball alongside you as they were busied with engagements arranged overseas.

The only thing they left behind for you was the invitation card, and a letter explicitly telling you to the murder the king. 

At the time you read the letter, you were shocked at how your parents could possibly craft up an assassination plot with such detail. You weren’t oblivious to your parents being megalomaniacs; it was why they were away most of the time, focus directed towards any other royalty overseas rather than their own daughter back at home. 

Another reason why they never really bothered with you was because you were a daughter. Although you were an only child, you understood that society’s misogynistic ways definitely influenced their lack of attention towards you.

It's not like you and your family had a bad relationship but you weren’t exactly close either, therefore you didn’t have enough memories to form any opinions on them. Well that is up until now, when the confidential letter telling you the kill the king ceaselessly echoes through your mind. 

Brazen of you, but you wanted to get some of your family’s attention for once. In a sense, you inherited their selfishness. 

You temporarily shake off your thoughts, and with the minimal amount of dignity left in you, tread along to where your chauffeur was, waiting to escort you to the plaza - the location of the castle. 

Inside the privacy of your cart, the thoughts of how the assassination will go runs through your mind as you fiddle nervously on the holster underneath your dress.

You just hope you’ll manage to come out in one piece.

_

The moment you make your ‘grand’ entrance at the ball, strangers are already gushing at you as a peculiar redhead announces your status. 

You realise that this was probably your first official appearance in public as your parents never let you out, contradicting their own actions. 

You waste no time to ask around for the location of the lavatories. Luckily, the same redhead fills you in on the information you need, and you manage to make a quick escape to the toilets. 

You shut the doors behind you, puffing in pure relief. You were never good with crowds since you haven’t even been outside after all, so the comfort of this cloistered space warms you a little. 

Anyway, you’re here to collect yourself before you even dare to think about killing anyone.  

It takes you a while to calm your breathing as the plan continues to play through your mind for what feels like an eternity. Killing really is all that disturbing.

When you finally muster up enough courage, you step out of the lavatory with undeveloped confidence. Flushing, you look down at your feet as you attempt to make your way back into the ballroom, not even noticing the man standing straight ahead. You stumble into him ungraciously, earning you a merited knock on the head.

“Ouch.” you wince in pain. 

Your eyes drift up to meet with a prepossessing blonde who gazes down at you with an amused guise. He was dressed in haute couture, a form-fitting navy suit pinned with the golden emblem of the Bakugo’s: a griffin.

Without a second glance, you instantly note that he’s the king. 

“Careful, Princess of Agathinos.” he alerts, his voice suiting as the most soothing cord of notes you’ve heard pour out of a mouth in a while.  

How did he recognise you?

“You dropped something, princess.” Stupefied, you watch in awe as he bends down to pick up your possession. 

Moments later, you finally knock yourself out to check what’s fallen off your outfit. In vain, you find all your accessories precisely in their designated locations.

Wait.

“A dagger?” he taunts, raising a brow in your way, “Mind explaining why you need this in a clearly guarded place?”

“My King, I-”

“Don’t have anything to defend yourself with?” Your eyes widen at his accurate observation.

Unnerved, you flee from his light grasp and begin pacing in the opposite direction witlessly.

“Running away from me in my premises. How fatuous.” he chuckles to himself, inspecting the dagger that played in his hands.

_

You dash tirelessly past the postern and into what appears to be a garden. You don’t give a second thought as you bolt through a vineyard, the chiffon fabric tufting together under the remiss handling of your silk gloves. 

Reaching the mouth of an inviting forest, you feel a pair of arms repelling you from going any further. Your eyes widen once more, not being able to tell if you were gratified or terrified, or a genuine mixture of both. 

“I wouldn’t go there if I were you.” the flattery music blows into your ear.

Absent from warnings, two strong arms spin your waist around to engage you with a  handsome physique under the moonlight. You shudder at the enchanting sight of the king. 

If he’s run all the way here for you unaccompanied, it is only alright for you to assume that he doesn’t care about the incident back there.

He seems to be more interested in you, like you are with him.

“Please don’t run, princess. I’m not the beast that everyone deems me to be.”

You show no apparent reaction to his comment, still fazed.

“Don’t be afraid.” he adds, sounding ever so sincere. 

“Oh, I won’t.” you promise. It was the only thing you could say after being completely infatuated by him.

“If you’re saying that on account of me releasing you, then you’re wrong, princess.”

“I mean it, your majesty.” you clarify challengingly.

He hums, palpably entertained, “Will you allow me to try something?”

Was the king seriously asking you for permission even after he knew you were a threat?

Oh lord.

“S-sure.” you stutter, making a downright fool out of yourself.

“Well then, forgive me for my bold deed.”

Before you could even say anything, you feel the sensation of his soft lips pressing against yours, juxtaposing to his unyielding image beneath the moonlight. It sent butterflies fluttering down your back impetuously.

Slowly pulling away for air, a silence hovers above the both of you, utterly enraptured by each other.

“Bewitching.” he comments as he leans in for another kiss. This time you lid your eyes, prepared to devote yourself to your king, Bakugo Katsuki.

[jelly-pies]

Dancing From Now On

Read on AO3

Pepper remembered their first dance. Contrary to public knowledge, it had not been at the annual Stark Industries gala.

Tony and Pepper's first dance took place months before that, alone at the mansion, late after a long day of work. The music had been Pepper's idea, to relax. But the dance had been Tony's.

"Getting better, Potts." Somehow cheerier than usual, he spun her slowly around the workshop. "Nobody will ever know you had two left feet. Hardly believe it myself, if my toe wasn't still throbbing."

Pepper huffed. "Not all of us could afford dance classes, you know."

"Well, it's not that hard, see? We're just swaying." Tony pulled her in, an inch closer, meeting her eyes. And for one moment, Pepper was purely dancing with the friend she was secretly in love with—not the boss who depended on her, or the playboy whose one night stands she escorted out of the mansion every few weeks. Just Tony. "Just dancing."

Their casual flirting was one thing. But this was getting dangerously close to something else—so Pepper ended the moment. JARVIS stopped the music, and when Pepper looked back after collecting her things, Tony suddenly looked away as if he'd been caught staring.

Maybe he had.

"So, you're good?" Tony asked casually, hands fiddling with some tools he picked up. "No stumbling over anybody's feet at the next gala?"

"We're good." Pepper matched his light tone. "Thank you, Mr. Stark."

"You're very welcome, Ms. Potts."

"And Tony... " She paused at the door. Did she imagine that expectant look he sent her way, or was it just the lighting? "Um… that contract you still have to look over. Don't show up tomorrow without it."

"Which one?"

"Tony."

He chuckled. "I got it. Have a good night."

Maybe it was just the lighting.

"Good night," Pepper answered, and exited the room with deliberate steps.

She turned back before the landing. Tony was facing away, bringing up holo-screens, flexing his hands—and suddenly she remembered the feel of those calloused fingers against her own, drawing her closer.

Tony looked up. Pepper turned away, determined not to be caught staring.

But maybe she had.

Pepper remembered their first dance. And she remembered how it led to much, much more.

-

Their second dance, that one was at the Stark Industries Firefighter's Family Fund benefit. A backless blue gown, a little banter, an almost-kiss on the roof. Another moment Pepper ended before anything could begin, even though she half-wished something  would begin—had been wishing it those dreadful three months of Tony's disappearance.

As Tony left to get them drinks, Pepper turned away to hide a growing blush. She didn't see the way he looked back at her from the door.

Tony reentered the building, and didn't see the way Pepper looked after his retreating back, either.

-

Years later on another rooftop, after a disastrous Stark Expo, the kiss became real.

They even had a witness, who deadpanned, "You guys look like two seals fighting over a grape."

Tony put his arm around her as they faced Rhodey, and Pepper couldn’t help thinking how that gesture must make them look like a real couple. She found she didn’t mind. All of a sudden, plans of her resignation as CEO didn't seem so urgent.

Tony turned back to her as soon as Rhodey left and challenged, "How are you gonna resign if I don’t accept?"

Pepper laughed, letting the action release her anxiety and near-death stress and girlish romance. "I…" And Tony was leaning close. She stopped him with a finger on his lips. "Tony, if I don't… we can’t…"

"Come on, it’s us. We’ll figure something out." And there was that look again. Pepper wasn’t so quick to blame the lighting this time. "Ms. Potts?" Tony took both her hands. "Pep?"

It was too late to stop this moment, and Pepper knew it. But the doubt must have still shown on her face because Tony took one look and continued, "Remember when we danced? The first time, Malibu? You crushed my toes about a hundred—"

"Please let that go."

"—but we made it work."

Pepper took a breath. "We did."

Tony smiled, eyes shining—that's how Pepper could always tell if his smiles were real. She could also tell that both of them were done holding back… whatever this was.

"We are pretty good at dancing," Pepper replied.

Tony couldn't see her face as they embraced, but if he did, Pepper was sure he could tell her smile was real, too.

-

A private night at Stark Tower after the New York attack, that was the third dance. Or fourth, or fifth, maybe. Pepper wasn't sure she needed to count anymore.

She was only sure of two things. Swaying together in their home, with JARVIS playing soft music overhead, her arms around the love she had almost lost—and had accepted she would come close to losing, over and over again, for the sake of saving the world—Pepper was only sure of these: that she wanted herself and Tony to have a thousand more dances to come.

And that she could never know which one would be their last.

-

They danced that night on yet another rooftop, after the events with the Mandarin.

They didn't dance after Ultron.

Or for several months after that.

But the next time Pepper and Tony finally held each other in their arms, they held on tighter, and neither let go for a long, long time.

-

This wasn't how Pepper imagined it, for several reasons.

Tony’s smile was different. There was a sadness in them that lingered like ashes, but he smiled anyway, holding her close—which was a feat with Pepper's growing belly, but they made it work.

There were fewer guests. Several seats they left vacant on purpose, scattered around the lakeside like lonely souls. Some people held the belief they were there, in spirit, and that's what mattered. Pepper wasn't so sure; pure sentimentality had prevailed on her to leave the seats out.

Apparently sentimentality ran high this evening. The band played the song she and Tony had first danced to, oh so long ago, in a mansion long since blown to bits, by an AI, a friend, long since gone.

There was no publicity in what had once been anticipated as the event of the decade. A single ray of sun through gray clouds instead of all-around sunshine, in what was supposed to be the happiest day of Pepper and Tony's life.

But the people they loved—those that were left—celebrated with them, and that was enough. A simple reception at their new house, and the wedding was over.

After the lake grew quiet and the stars came out, the newlyweds slow-danced through the night, just the two of them.

This wasn't how Pepper imagined their new life would start. But start it did, with a dance.

"Getting better, Potts," Tony whispered beside her temple, their heads pressed together.

"Not so hard without the floor length gown. I know that was my idea, but God, don’t let me do anything like that ever again."

Tony chuckled and spun her slowly until she faced away, then wrapped his arms around his wife, their four hands interlocking on top of her belly.

Pepper had long lost count of their dances. But she knew this was one she would always remember.

It was Tony who broke the silence. "You guys still here? Scoot."

Pepper turned where he was looking: Rhodey’s wedding presents on the mantelpiece, staring at them—two plushie seals. And she laughed. Tony could always make her laugh.

“Fighting over a grape?” Pepper recalled.

“I never really got that image, to be honest.”

“Hm.” She turned back to Tony, cupped his cheek, and leaned in. “Let’s see about that.”

-

"That’s it! You’re doing it!" Tony spun their daughter around until the song ended, and Morgan collapsed in giggles on the floor. Tony scooped her up and tickled her with his stubble, making the giggling grow louder.

"Dad!" Morgan laughed. "Mommy, save me!"

Pepper swiftly rescued the toddler, only to drop her on the couch and blow raspberries on her stomach a second later. "In this house—" another tickle, and Morgan squealed— "nobody—escapes—dancing!"

Morgan finally succeeded in pushing her away as FRIDAY started the next upbeat song, and soon all three were back on their feet.

-

“Not that it's a competition.” Tony walked in. “But she loves me three thousand.”

“Oh, does she?”

“You were somewhere on the low… six to nine hundred range.”

Tony could always make her laugh.

Even the night after the Avengers came to visit. The night their new life, that Pepper knew in her heart could never last long, started to melt away.

Tonight there was no music, no dancing. Only the crackle of the fireplace, the weight of the future, and Pepper’s words hanging in the air— "But will you be able to rest?"

Tony didn’t answer her. He didn’t need to.

But Pepper held his hand, and Tony kissed her cheek. And when they finally went to bed, they held each other tighter.

-

Tony held her hand, and Pepper kissed his cheek. "You can rest now."

Tonight there was no dancing.

-

Two cylindrical compartments stood along the garage wall, one of them forever to be empty. In the other, Pepper put her Rescue suit away by herself. Crossing the room, her fingers couldn't help lingering over Tony's reserve helmet—Tony's desk—Tony's tools—Tony's presence. She could always feel it in his workshops.

Their first dance had been in his workshop.

The memory jolted her, pulling Pepper's eyes back to the last gift Tony left: her Rescue suit slumped in its compartment, looking as battered as she felt. Pepper remembered what it was like to take the suit to battle. To fight side by side with her husband, gauntlets firing in sync, guarding each other's back. A team to the end.

Did that count as a dance? Because otherwise, Pepper realized, she didn't remember the last time she and Tony danced.

She remembered their first, though—would always remember it. JARVIS’s song, their wedding song, strained in her ears—she could almost feel Tony's calloused fingers around hers—dancing in his workshop late at night.

But in this workshop, on this night, Pepper could only cry.

-

Pepper still danced.

She danced with Rhodey, and they leaned on each other, the way they had learned to do long ago.

She danced with Happy, bouncy little head bangs as they cooked Christmas dinner together, and for a moment the house was full of music again.

She danced with Peter, years later at his wedding, whispering "We’re so proud of you" in his ear.

She danced with her daughter. Morgan always pulled her to her feet whenever a lively song came on the radio— "In this house, nobody escapes dancing!" And they laughed. And they danced.

Pepper still danced. Just not with the one person she most wanted to dance with again.

-

When years had passed, and Morgan was grown, and the house was quiet most hours of the day, Pepper developed the habit of sneaking out on the balcony on clear nights, and looking up at the stars.

Some of her favorite dances with Tony had taken place under the stars. Like the rooftop. And their wedding.

Pepper didn’t remember which dance had been their last. But she remembered the first. And the second. And the thousands that came after that. Maybe that was enough.

In the quiet of the lake house, with only the strains of their wedding song echoing in her ears, and the stars above her, forever her witness—Pepper danced.

-

-

- "Ang Huling El Bimbo (The Last [Dance])," The Eraserheads

Lahat ng pangarap ko'y bigla lang natunaw

Sa panaginip nalang pala kita maisasayaw

(All of my dreams are suddenly gone

Only in dreams can we dance from now on)