#only trying to work a miracle to help someone she loves and even in the devastation it brought her and she still is going to try. again.

[yashley]

"His first experience of the real was pain. And your first experience of the real was trying to help somebody."

[smileysuh]

deal maker

🌙 starring. Jeon Wonwoo x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You grasp at the blanket on his bed, writhing beneath him while he licks and sucks and- fuck, he just knows you so well- there’s no need for direction, no awkward moments of exploration, he just… he knows what to do, and it drives you wild. You’re completely in the moment, experiencing a raw pleasure you’ve only ever read about in erotica.

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, breast worship, pussy eating, overstimulation, dirty talk, praise, multiple sex positions, multiple reader orgasms, cumming together, dry humping, foreplay, slight corruption kink, etc… I pet names: (hers) sweetheart. 

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 8.7k

🍭 aus. uni/frat au, Halloween, supernatural/demon au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an.  Happy Halloween!

One: her

If it weren’t for the fact that you’re in the middle of a library, you might just scream. You know your workload increases with each year you’re in university, but there’s something sinister about the amount of book-related essays you have right before Halloween.

You’re doing your best to focus, and you’ve read the entirety of the ‘Frankenstein’ book that you’re supposed to be analyzing, but you just can’t find words.

A massive sigh escapes you, and your best friend, Hwasa, casts you a sideways glance. “You good, babes?” she asks.

“I just- I can’t do this,” you groan. “It’s a completely open ended prompt- I could write about anything I want to, and all things considered, five thousand words isn’t the longest essay ever- but, damn, I seriously can’t think right now.”

She nods sympathetically. “Do you really think you’re at rock bottom on this?”

“I don’t see how I could go any lower.”

“Okay, well,” she scoots her chair closer to you, her voice lowering, “i wouldn’t suggest this otherwise, but uh- have you ever thought about contacting the Sigma Veta Tau demon?”

“The what?” you stare at her blankly.

“Of course you wouldn’t know about him, you’re a goody goody,” Hwasa sighs. “Basically, there’s this guy in the SVT frat who makes deals and does your work for you.”

“What’s this have to do with being a demon?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s just a weird myth- basically, this guy helped me with an essay last year worth thirty percent of my grade. All he asked for was a family heirloom, and I think it’s his weird choice of price for favours that get him the whole ‘demon’ thing cuz he doesn’t usually ask for money like other dudes who write your papers would.”

“How did you do? On the essay?” you ask.

“Got an A. He doesn’t overdo it, he does enough to get you a good grade but not so good it’s obvious you didn’t do the work.”

“So… is he an actual demon, or?” You cock your head to the side, trying to understand the whole demon relevance.

“Nah, like I said, he’s just some hot nerd who wrote my essay. It wasn’t sketchy at all.”

“And he does this for a lot of people?”

“I’ve heard about a few. I know his friend Dokyeom was close to failing his Kinesiology course and somehow Wonwoo did his final exam for him and helped him pass.”

You let out a small laugh. You’re familiar with the Sigma Veta Tau frat, and DK is a well known figure there- getting someone to help him pass Kinesiology is very characteristic to the loud gym bro. “Wait, but, how did Wonwoo pull it off? They ID you at the final exams, don’t they?”

Hwasa shrugs. “I guess the dude pulls off miracles every once in a blue moon, maybe that’s part of his ‘demonic’ reputation.”

“Are we sure this a good idea?” you ask.

“Making a deal with the Devil?” Hwasa clarifies. “Of course, what could go wrong?”

You laugh at her choice of words. 

This Wonwoo guy definitely isn’t the Devil… and even if he was, what would making a deal with him even really include? 

You’re skeptical to say the least, but looking back at your worn out book, and your laptop document open with zero words- you begin to wonder if maybe this Wonwoo guy is a good way to solve your current predicament. 

Two:

Wonwoo quite enjoys living on campus. He loves the onslaught to his senses every time he’s out and about, mingling with university kids who have way too much on their plate. No one ever notices him, no one ever notices the things that are slightly… off about him, they’re much too busy focusing on this week’s term paper, or this week’s quiz.

No, Wonwoo’s extremely happy being exactly where he is. He’s lounging in a coffee shop that connects to the book store, his eyes darting from person to person, assessing-

That’s when his gaze locks with someone familiar.

Hwasa had come to him last year, needing an essay completed. It had been one of Wonwoo’s easier tasks, as he’s read the source material upwards of twenty times in his long life. He’s seen her around campus a few times since then, but she’s never approached him, not the way she is now.

“Hi, Wonwoo!” Hwasa grins, demenour as bubbly as ever. 

The frat boy simply nods, his gaze turning to assess you as you stand next to your friend.

“This is y/n,” Hwasa introduces you. “She’s actually struggling with an essay right now-”

“Hate to hear about an academic struggle,” Wonwoo interrupts, “especially while enjoying my coffee.” His eyes return to you again. “If you ever need a tutor, you should swing by the frat.”

“I would appreciate that,” you nod, a little breathless.

It’s clear there’s something off about you too- your heard rate is going faster than the average rate, and you’re finding it difficult to meet his gaze. 

Ah, things click in Wonwoo’s head, this particular set of responses isn’t something he’s unfamiliar with. Many girls react this way to him, getting ‘flustered,’ as humans would say.

However, what is unfamiliar, is the way Wonwoo himself is reacting to it. He finds it cute, endearing in a way- as opposed to the annoyed feeling he usually gets when women are easily infatuated with him.

“Here,” Wonwoo breathes smoothly, picking up a pen from his notepad. “Give me your hand.”

Your gaze flickers to Hwasa for a moment, and then you’re reaching forward. Wonwoo grasps your wrist, enjoying the warmth of your skin and the way you jolt from his touch. He quickly writes his phone number down on your inner palm. “Give me a call about tutoring you sometime, we can discuss details then.”

“O-okay,” you nod, immediately taking your hand back when he’s finished, cradling it close to your chest.

“If that’s all you two have to say to me,” Wonwoo breathes, looking between you and Hwasa, “I’d love to get back to my coffee.”

Three:

“Hey, I’m at the frat, where are you?” you ask as you answer your best friend’s call. You feel so awkward just standing here, trying to look like you belong even though you’re sure you stand out in the all boys frat village.

“Babes, I’m so sorry- I’m at this study group and it’s going mega late, I didn’t even realize the time and I’m across campus-”

You let out a sigh. “Are you seriously going to make me do this alone?”

“You’ll be fine!” Hwasa assures you. “Wonwoo won’t bite, it’s the daylight after all.”

She giggles, and you roll your eyes. You’re still not sure how you feel about this whole ‘demon’ thing, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little afraid to enter a fratboy den of wolves alone.

“You’ve got this,” Hwasa says again. “If you need anything, just text me, and remember, I stalk your snapchat location so if anything happens-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you sigh. “Okay, I can do this.”

“That’s the spirit!” 

You hang up on Hwasa, taking a deep breath and turning to the front door. You approach cautiously, raising your hand and knocking three times.

It takes a couple of moments, but eventually, a man opens the door. You recougnize Jeonghan, he’s the frat president’s right hand man, a business major with a reputation for hitting on every girl he meets.

“Well, look who it is,” Jeonghan grins, leaning against the doorframe with his shoulder while he shovels some cereal into his mouth from the bowl in his hand.

He’s in an oversized white shirt and sweatpants, you’d bet he hasn’t been to classes today- and fuck it, he looks handsome, all the SVT men do.

“Sorry, hi, I’m here for Wonwoo, but I don’t think we’ve actually met,” you say awkwardly, holding out a hand.

Jeonghan’s gaze falls to your extended palm, and he chuckles. “Wonwoo gets all the cute girls,” he says, moving away from the door frame to let you inside, “but none of them ever stick around.”

“I’m here to study,” you try to explain.

“Sure you are,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. You follow him through the entryway living space, pausing as he heads back into the connected kitchen. “Wonwoo’s room is the third floor, first door on the left.” You stand there for a few moments, and Jeonghan cocks his head to the side. “You have no clue where the stairs are, do you?” 

“Nope.”

“That door,” he points with his spoon. “Don’t get lost.”

He’s a bit of an odd one, and with a final thank you, you scurry away, following his directions past a door and up three flights of stairs. You pause outside the first room on the left, swallowing thickly before you knock.

“Come in!” Wonwoo’s voice calls out. 

Before you can push the door open, it opens by itself, and you half expect Wonwoo to be standing there- only to find him seated on his bed with a book in his hands.

He’s in a black hoodie and matching sweatpants. His hood is up, but his dark curls are poking out, toying with the rims of glasses that set of the sharp angles of his face. 

“What was your name again?” he asks.

“Uh-” you cough. “Y/N.” The door opening by itself had freaked you out, and you wonder how true the whole demon thing is- God, that’s been on your mind a lot.

“Come in, relax, and tell me what I can do for you,” he instructs, using his foot to push out a chair near his bed. 

You swallow thickly again, closing the door behind you and approaching. You take a seat, letting out a breath. “So basically I have an essay on Frankenstein- have you read it?”

“Of course. Have you?” he counters.

“Yeah, I’ve read it, but uh… anyways, it’s due on Halloween, which is two weeks away, and I have so many other essays to write-”

“What’s the topic?”

“Open ended.”

“How many words?”

“Five thousand.”

“That doesn’t seem very hard,” he muses with a grin, slotting a marker between his pages so he can rest his book on his chest, getting a better look at you.

“Usually it wouldn’t be, but I’m just blanking- I don’t even know where to start.” You release a stressed breath. “So I brought a family heirloom.”

Wonwoo just looks at you, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement.

“Hwasa said she paid you last time with her grandmothe’rs broach?” you try to explain.

“My price is different for everyone,” Wonwoo tells you, holding out a hand. “Let’s see what you brought.”

“It’s my aunt’s.” You give the necklace to him. “She got it to me to celebrate graduating highschool and getting into university.”

Wonwoo inspects the delicate silver chain, looking at the crescent moon charm with an opal in the middle. “It’s obviously valuable,” he says, handing it back to you, “but I can tell it’s not very sentimental.”

“So…” you fidget with the necklace in your palm, “what do you want?”

Wonwoo’s eyes begin to scan your form, and suddenly you feel very uncomfortable. It’s as if he’s undressing you in his mind, and it makes you fidget in your seat. His gaze lands on your chest, and you fight the urge to cover your tits-

He sits up, reaching forward- You hold your breath as his fingers brush by your collar bones, too close to the swell of your breasts for your liking- and then he’s lifting your necklace, leaning even closer to inspect it.

You can feel his breath on your skin, and he’s so close- God, why is something as simple as this so erotic? You’ve dealt with pretty boys before, but there’s something about a pretty, nerdy, dangerous boy- 

“Where did you get this?” he asks, thumb smoothing across the golden heart attached to the chain on your neck.

It’s hard to find your voice, but after a moment, you’re able to respond. “It was uh- it was from my last boyfriend.”

“An ex?” His gaze lifts to you.

“Yeah.” You can feel your skin heating.

“And you didn’t get rid of it?”

“I figure I bought him a bunch of stuff while we were dating, pretty sure this was only fifty bucks or something, so I guess I thought I deserved to keep it.”

Wonwoo nods. You watch his gaze dip to your lips, just for a moment, and then he’s releasing your necklace and leaning back into his bed again. “That will work.”

“It will?” you ask in shock.

“Uh huh. There’s a certain sort of sentimentality to it. Also… even though you say you kept it because you deserved it, buying him so many things or whatever, I think it’s a shame that a pretty girl like you is still holding onto something from the past, instead of looking at your future. I’ll take it off your hands, and you can progress now, with more than just your essay.”

You wonder what sort of motive Wonwoo has, what significance a necklace from your ex actually has on a man who’s practically a stranger.

“Okay,” you murmur, reaching behind your throat to undo the clasp. “So… how does this work now?”

“A five thousand word open ended essay on Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein…” Wonwoo takes his glasses off, wiping them with his hoodie. “I guess, you give me some time to think it through, I text you, and you come see me again.”

You watch the way he puts his spectacles back onto his face- it’s shocking how small, simple, mundane motions can be so beautiful when completed by a man like him.

“Okay,” you nod. “I guess… I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

“You will,” he agrees. “Bye for now.”

He relaxes against his pillows, lifting his book and immediately turning his attention to it.

You stand up and leave without another word, your heart racing in your chest.

Once you’re outside the frat house, you call Hwasa. 

“So how did it go?” she asks. “He didn’t kill you, so that’s good news!”

“He also didn’t want the family heirloom,” you sigh.

“So what did he want?”

“My necklace, you know, the one from my ex.”

“That’s weird, why would he want that?”

“Hell if I know,” you groan. “Hwasa… he’s not an actual demon, right?”

“Of course not!” she laughs.

You wish you were as certain as she is. There’s definitely something otherworldly about Jeon Wonwoo, and one of these days, you’re going to put your finger on exactly what is different about him from any other man you’ve ever met. 

Four:

Wonwoo is standing by his window, examining the necklace in his hand. It’s such a simple little thing, but there’s so much energy tied to it. Wonwoo can see the dark aura- a tie to a past that it’s clear you’d rather forget.

Usually, Wonwoo collects items with soul ties. Family heirlooms are the easiest, as they’re connected to multiple people in different generations. When one of those people with a soul connection to the item dies, Wonwoo deams if they’re a worthy enough spirit to take as payment for his favours.

In Hwasa’s case, both of her grandparents had died recently. The grandmother had gone first, followed quickly by the grandfather, and it was the older male that Wonwoo had chosen to take for himself. His soul had been dark, a signifier of the evil in his heart when he’d been on earth.

For a demon, Wonwoo actually likes humans. He only accepts contracts that allow him to collect on bad souls, souls that he deems worthy of eternal damnation. 

Many of his kind have asked him why he’d chosen a university to call home, and in simple terms, it’s because at heart, Wonwoo has an erudite flecked soul. He loves learning, more than he’s ever loved being a demon.

He got to a point in his life where he figured, if he was going to be around forever, he might as well learn everything.

Besides all that, university is easy, students come to him, he hardly had to do any work. Students are always anxious, always busy and in need of support to get work done. They hardly think of the heirloom they pawned off to a frat boy in return for an essay or a test- and since Wonwoo waits for natural deaths to collect the souls tied to the items, there’s no harm no fowl.

With all of this being said, Wonwoo’s not used to taking an item like yours. There are only two souls tied to it, your own, and your ex boyfriend’s… Wonwoo knows which one he’ll collect.

He’s not sure why he feels protective of you… there’s just something in your aura that calls to him, something he can’t explain. 

He knows that this job will be different, in more ways than one, but something inside of Wonwoo is ready for the change, after all,  it’s been a very long time coming.

Five:

“You’re back,” Jeonghan muses when he opens the door to the frat for you. “That’s a first.”

“Hi,” you say meekly, forcing a smile. You’re still not sure how you feel about any of this, and knowing that what Wonwoo’s doing with you is unusual doesn’t help ease your anxieties.

“He’s in the kitchen,” Jeonghan sighs, opening the door wider so you can pass. As you move by him, a hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “He’s never cooked for anyone, so, just keep that in mind.”

God, these men are so odd-

You find Wonwoo in the kitchen, his back to you. He’s in a black t-shirt and it stretches tight across his broad shoulders. His curls are a little messy, as if he’s been sleeping, and when he turns to you, you find he’s not wearing his glasses.

Why is he just as pretty without glasses as he is with glasses?

This feels unfair. This feels like- well, it shouldn’t be legal, for starters.

“Hey.” Wonwoo flashes you a smile and you just about melt. You can feel your skin heating, and you hate how your body betrays you, betrays the inner lustings that take over every time you look at this nerdy hot frat boy.

“Hi,” you respond, feeling like a complete idiot as you approach Wonwoo.

“You hungry?” He looks down at the pan in front of him. “I’ve been making steak and eggs.”

“Actually, I’m really just here about the essay,” you try to explain.

“Oh, right.” Wonwoo focuses on the sunny side up egg he’s making, “Give me one sec.”

You watch him finish up his meal. You’re not used to watching a man cook, and you're surprised at how skilled he is. There’s something very attractive about the way he shovels the egg out of the pan, adding it to his plate with the finished steak. 

“Okay, let’s go.” Wonwoo leads you back up to his room. He takes a seat at his work table. “You can go on the bed,” he suggests, cutting open an egg. You watch the orange yolk drip, the way he scoops some up with steak.

He’s way too attractive. 

“You sure you don’t want any?” he asks. “It’s perfectly medium rare.”

“A little too rare for me,” you admit, immediately realizing your mistake. “It looks amazing, sorry, I’m just not hungry.” 

“Sounds good. So let's talk your essay.”

“Okay.”

“I’ve decided I’m not going to write it for you.”

“What?” It feels like the air is knocked out of your chest, and you stare at Wonwoo in confusion. “But uh… you took my necklace, and you wrote Hwasa’s essay-”

“It’s busy season.” Wonwoo waves his fork around absentmindedly. “The deal is, you come here, we work together, and when you need help, I’ll help. When you need a final edit, I’ll final edit.”

“Uh…” Your mind is spinning. “If you’re not going to help, I can really just do it myself.”

“I think we both know my help will be important,” Wonwoo points out. “Look, you’re a good girl. Don’t you want to feel like you did it yourself? When you came here the first time, I noticed you were hesitant, I don’t think this is something you’re used to doing.”

“I’m not,” you admit, shocked at his ability to read you. 

“With a five thousand word count, this will only take two or three hard study sessions top, in fact, since I have my steak and eggs, we can start now.”

“I didn’t even bring my book-”

“I’ve got a copy right here.” Wonwoo spins his chair, reaching for his bookshelf. He pulls out a worn version of Frankenstein, handing it to you. “I’ve got notes in here, if you want to flip through it, I’m sure you’ll find something to inspire your essay.”

You take a deep breath.

Should you do this? Should you sit here and study with him? What was the point of giving him your necklace if he’s not going to write it for you?

“You’ll keep me on track?” you ask.

Wonwoo offers you a lopsided grin. “Uh huh.”

You take a deep breath. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Six:

It’s your second session with Wonwoo. You’ve been carrying his version of Frankenstein around like a bible- the notes, carefully hand written into the margins, are so insightful and inspiring. At this point, you’ve reread the whole book just to get a chance to understand Wonwoo’s musings on every page.

You feel alight with determination, and your thoughts feel focused- you’re as focused with Wonwoo as you’ve ever been, which feels odd given how distracting he is.

It’s intimate in a way, to be so close to him, doing your own work while sharing a space-

Your phone buzzes, breaking your concentration.

Wonwoo looks up at you, pausing his reading. “Who’s that, your boyfriend?”

You let out a small laugh. “Just Hwasa checking in on me to make sure I’m okay with our tutoring session, you’ve got a reputation you know.”

“Do I?” Wonwoo grins, resting his book on his abdomen. 

“Uh huh, people say you’re a demon or something. Apparently coming here for help with school is a deal with the devil.” 

Wonwoo laughs. “That’s definitely a theory. What do you think?”

“At the moment, I’m not quite sure,” you admit. “All I know is, you’re helping me with this essay, and that’s what matters.”

“You know how you can check if I’m a demon?” Wonwoo asks.

“How?”

“Come touch my head, see if there are any horns.” 

Wonwoo is giving you a challenging look, and for some reason, you can’t resist.

You put your laptop to the side, sitting up. “Really?”

“Like I said, only one way to find out if I’m a demon.”

You move toward him, standing off the bed to approach where he’s seated at his desk. “Honestly… maybe this isn’t the best idea. I trust you, I don’t have to feel your head for horns.”

“I really wish you would though,” Wonwoo counters, and there’s a serious edge to his tone. His eyes are bright, looking up at you. It’s like you’re suspended in time and space, staring at each other, holding your breaths.

You reach toward his head, in the back of your mind, you’re worried he might bite you- but Wonwoo stays perfectly still. He watches your every movement, and soon, your fingers are smoothing through his curls.

Wonwoo holds back a groan at the feeling of your touch. He wants to lean in toward you, but doesn’t want to scare you off. It’s clear to him from your body language that you’re as hesitant about this as you had been when you’d first come to him for help with your essay.

You’re so soft, so pure, and he loves it.

He can hear your heart beginning to thunder in your chest as you smooth around his head, searching for horns.

God, humans are so gullible, but it’s adorable when it’s you being this way.

“Okay, no horns,” you confirm, tearing your hand back like you’ve just been burned.

You turn away, returning to his bed, and Wonwoo can practically feel the heat coming off of you. 

“Get back to work,” he says softly, loving the way he gets to sneak looks at you while you’re deep in thought. 

This arrangement is too perfect- Wonwoo hates that it will soon be coming to an end. You’ve been very productive, and as much as he’d like to take credit for it, it’s your own doing.

In some odd way, he’s proud of you, and it’s a feeling he’s never quite experienced before. 

Seven:

You can’t believe it’s your final session with your ‘tutor’. The amount you’ve gotten done in two separate days with Wonwoo is ridiculous- 

He’s your lucky charm, and it’s odd how much someone can come to mean to you in such a short time.

“Okay,” you sigh, finishing your last line of work. “I’m done.”

“Time for edits then,” Wonwoo responds, slotting a bookmark into what he’s reading before descarding the novel on his sidetable. He approaches you, sitting onto the bed. He’s so close that you can feel his shoulder against yours. He’s so warm, in the best of ways.

He’s reading over your shoulder, and you can feel his breath on your skin. God, this closeness is doing something to you- your pussy is actually beginning to throb, and it’s becoming uncomfortable. 

“Here.” You hand your laptop over to him, watching anxiously as he begins to read your essay from the top.

You’re so focused on him- each second feels like an eternity as he makes his way through your writing, discussing small edits with you as he goes through it. 

“This is good,” Wonwoo muses, making it all the way to the end. “You did really well, and with two days to spare. I’m proud of you.”

“Guess I don’t have to be stressed for Halloween,” you grin, releasing a deep breath.

“Speaking of, do you have any plans?”

“I haven’t even thought that far ahead,” you admit with a laugh.

“Well, if nothing else, we throw a great frat party, you’re more than welcome to come.”

“You know what?” You stretch your arms above your head, releasing a deep breath. “I might just stop by.” 

Eight:

Wonwoo’s walking through campus when he senses something- and that something can only ever be you. He’s become accustomed to your aura, and his gaze immediately finds you, heading across the green with a friend by your side.

Your eyes meet, and Wonwoo flashes you a smile, not expecting anything to come of it.

He’s surprised when you approach, calling his name. “Wonwoo! Oh my gosh, hi!”

“Hey,” he grins, stopping in his tracks to give you a once over. He wishes he could be more subtle about his attraction to you, but by the way you take him in, it’s clear that it’s not something that’s one sided. 

“Yeji, this is the tutor I was telling you about! He helped me finish my essay in three sessions.”

“It was really more like two,” Wonwoo corrects you, then his eyes find your friend. “She did all the work, believe me.”

“Yeah, after I read your notes on the book,” you grin. “He’s not even an English major, but he picks up more details in novels than I ever could.”

Wonwoo’s not used to compliments like this, especially not from pretty girls. Most just accept his work and figure their payment was a job well done enough. He doesn’t even know how to respond, and for a demon of his age, this sort of thing never happens.

You’re so pure and sweet- God, he likes you so much. But there’s something beneath the attraction, there’s a want- a want to corrupt you, a want to see how far you’ll go for him, how dirty you’ll be just for him. 

“Are you two coming to the party tomorrow?” Wonwoo asks, finding a way to divert the attention away from himself.

You and Yeji exchange a look, and it’s your friend who nods. “We’ll be there.” 

Nine:

You don’t go to frats often, but your attraction to Wonwoo drives you through the front doors of the packed house. Everyone is dressed accordingly, and you take a moment just to appreciate the ambiance. Sure, it’s sweaty, and overwhelming, and the flashing lights are a bit much, but it feels like a community, in some sort of odd way.

You’re heading through the crowd of bodies with Hwasa when someone grabs your arm, and you’re shocked to find Jeonghan standing there. He’s dressed as a zombie of some sort, and despite the fake grime on his face, he’s still very handsome.

“Hey, repeat offender,” he grins, leaning close so you can hear him over the loud music.

“Repeat offender?” you ask.

“Yeah, you’re Wonwoo’s chick now, our little repeat offender.” He’s charming, in an interesting sort of way. “Bet you’re looking for him.”

“Is he around?”

“He’s the dickhead in the oni mask, making a drink in the kitchen.”

“Thank you.” 

You follow Jeonghan’s directions, approaching the kitchen. It’s as full of bodies as you’ve ever seen it, but despite that, finding Wonwoo is easy.

He’s tall, and even with his back to you, you’d recougnize his shoulders anywhere.

“So how are you doing this?” Hwasa asks.

“I’m just going to go talk to him.”

“Do you need backup?”

Your eyes shift to Wonwoo again, and you find a smile appearing on your face. “Honestly, I think I’ll be alright.”

“If you need anything, just scream ‘hamburger’.”

“Why?”

“It’s my safe word,” Hwasa teases, flashing you a wink before she disappears into the crowd of people dancing.

You take a deep breath, mustering your courage to approach the hot nerd. 

You move toward him slowly, coming to a stop at his side. You don’t even have to say anything, he notices you immediately, turning to assess you.

His handsome face is covered with an oni mask, and it’s a little more frightening than you’d been anticipating, especially with his wild dark curls. Oni are Japanese demons, it has horns and fangs-

“Hi,” he says, and you can hardly hear him from under the mask.

“You’re really leaning into the whole demon thing, aren’t you?” you force a laugh. 

You hear Wonwoo chuckle, and then he’s pulling the oni mask off. “Are you more comfortable now?”

Swallowing thickly, you nod. “Actually, I think I’d also be more comfortable with a drink.”

“How much have you had already?”

“Just had a bit of a pre with Hwasa, why?”

“I guess…” he faces you, crossing his large arms over his broad chest, “when I make a move on you tonight, since our arrangement is done, I want to make sure you reciprocate, sound of mind.”

You look up at him in shock, unable to find any words with which to respond.

Wonwoo grins when you remain dumbfounded for a few seconds. “You’re cute.”

“I am?”

“More than you realize.”

“And you’re… you’re going to make a move on me?” 

“Was thinking about it.”

“What would the move look like?”

“Should I tell you? Or would you rather I show you?” 

God, why is he so hot? Why does he always know what to say? And why does his smirk look extra sexy with his slightly pointed canines? Why haven’t you realized his teeth were pointy before? You suppose he doesn’t smile enough for you to have picked up on details, but now, you’re looking at him, unhindered by shyness and limits of a tutor/semi-student relationship.

Wonwoo pulls you closer by your hips, staring down at you. “I’m going to need a verbal answer, Sweetheart.”

“Show me,” you tell him.

Wonwoo’s grin widens, and one of his hands moves from your hip to your cheek, cupping your face. His thumb brushes by your cheekbone, and it’s such a loving motion- it’s as if the entire frat party disappears around you. You’re so focused on him that you can hardly breathe.

Wonwoo moves closer, and you an feel his breath on your face. His lips are incredibly close, so close you could kiss him yourself- but you stay frozen, waiting on him.

“Are you sure you want this?” Wonwoo asks teasingly.

“Kiss me,” you whisper.

He chuckles, and then, he presses his lips to your own, cradling you even closer with the hand on your cheek. His other palm finds the small of your back, tugging you to his chest. You find your grip going to his shoulders, exploring the muscles you’ve been thirsting over.

His tongue swipes your bottom lip, and you open wider to accept him in, a small groan slipping out of you.

God, he’s such a good kisser- you’re completely lost in him.

In the periphery, music is thrumming through you, but it’s muffled, disappearing as you fall deeper under the spell of Wonwoo’s kiss.

Things are getting hot and heavy fast, and you can’t even find it within yourself to be embarrassed that you’re making out with Wonwoo while surrounded by people, besides, something tells you they won’t care.

You can feel something on your lower abdomen, a pressure- and you realize that just kissing you has made Wonwoo hard in his jeans.

Your pussy throbs, so turned on that you can hardly breathe. You break the kiss, gasping. “Your room?”

“Not right now,” comes his immediate response.

“What?” You can’t help the way you feel crushed at the rejection-

“Not with the party,” Wonwoo clarifies. “I want to take my time with you, want you to be comfortable- having people fucking around outside my room while I’m exploring you isn’t my idea of a great first time.”

“That actually makes sense,” you concede.

“But… I’m okay to keep doing this,” he tells you, leaning forward to kiss your cheek, then his mouth begins to move down to your throat, his tongue tasting your sweet spot. 

You release a moan, wrapping your arms around the tall nerd. “Yeah, we can keep doing this.”

Ten:

Wonwoo carefully walks to the kitchen, avoiding spilled liquor on the floor from the party the night before. He’s so focused on his footsteps that he almost doesn’t notice Jeonghan’s aura until he’s right next to him.

The frat boy is sitting on the kitchen counter, eating his cereal. “So…” Jeonghan muses with a grin, “that girl, huh?”

“What girl?” Wonwoo sighs.

Jeonghan scoffs loudly, rolling his eyes. “The one you were making out with at the party for hours. You know, the one that keeps coming here for ‘tutoring.’”

“I helped her with an essay.”

“Sure you did.” Jeonghan pushes off the kitchen counter. “It’s cute, our resident demon has a heart.”

Wonwoo freezes, realizing that Jeonghan might be onto something, but he’ll never admit it out loud. “No, I don’t.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” 

Eleven:

“Well look who it is,” Jeonghan grins as he opens the door to the frat. You wonder why it’s always him, why no one else is ever hanging around the living room, but you decide it’s best not to dwell on it.

“Hi,” you smile softly.

“Guessing you know where to go,” Jeonghan muses, opening the door wider so you can enter.

With one more nod to the frat boy, you make your way to Wonwoo’s room.

You knock on the door, and like the very first time you’d been here, it swings open with ease. Wonwoo’s sitting on his bed, a book in his hands. He’s wearing his glasses, and he looks so sexy like this, so domestic-

“Happy November,” Wonwoo says. 

You laugh. “Happy November.” You close the door behind yourself, standing there awkwardly. You know what you’re here for, know what you want from him now that your essay is complete- “You’re not practicing, you know, No Nut November, or anything, are you?”

Wonwoo laughs, setting his book down on his bedside table along with his glasses. “No, I’m not practicing No Nut November.”

“Good.”

Wonwoo’s grin widens. “Get over here.”

You make your way to the bed, sitting carefully next to him. “What were you reading?”

“Dante’s Inferno,” he responds casually, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to be reading poetry from the thirteen hundreds. 

“Wow,” you laugh, “that definitely pushes the whole demon angle.”

“I’m a deal maker, Sweetheart, the whole demon thing is overdone.” He wraps his arm around you, prompting you to cuddle up to his chest.

“And yet, your door opens on its own,” you point out. 

“And?”

“As crazy as this sounds…” you take a deep breath, “I guess I’m wondering if there’s any… legitimacy to the whole demon thing.”

“How would you feel if there was?” he counters.

“I suppose I wouldn’t believe it, not really.”

“Then what’s the point in asking?”

“Maybe there’s no point.” You look up at him, marveling at his handsome features.

“So kiss me and forget about it,” he prompts, his fingers finding the bottom of your chin and making you look up at him. 

“Sounds like a plan,” you smile, closing the gap between your lips. 

He holds you tighter as your lips mesh, half pulling you onto his chest as his tongue explores your own. God, he still feels so good- part of you had wondered if you’d been a little tipsy the last time you kissed him, and that’s why it had felt so good- but no, this is just Wonwoo, this is just the power he has over you.

You adjust so you’re straddling him, his hands finding your hips to encourage you while you cup his face, enjoying the feeling.

You begin to wiggle, grinding down softly onto him. His cock is already hardening in his sweatpants- you love how easy it is to turn him on. It does wonders for your ego as you dry hump him, beginning to moan at the sensation on your clit.

You’re not usually this type of person, not the mega-sexual, but something about Wonwoo is making you feral. It helps that you both know why you’re here- helps that he’d rescheduled this fuck session so you wouldn’t be having your first time with a wild Halloween rager just outside his door.

Things are just comfortable with him, it’s clear you’re both extremely attracted to each other, and that turns you on even more.

One of his hands begins to glide up from your waist, skimming the underwire of your bra. You move his palm even further up, so he’s grasping your breast, and he squeezes deliciously, earning a soft moan from your lips.

Wonwoo grins into your kiss, his free hand cupping the back of your neck, forcing you even closer as he massages your chest.

You grind harder onto his cock, loving the feeling-

One flip has Wonwoo on top of you, and you whimper at the change in power dynamics. He moves his hips fluidly, applying more pressure to your already throbbing clit-

Wonwoo pulls away from your throat, looking down at you with dark eyes. “So do I need to grab a condom, Sweetheart?” 

“I’m on birth control,” you tell him. “Are you clean?”

“I’m clean, are you?”

“Yeah.” You lean closer, eagerly pressing your lips to his again. You’re so lost in him, nothing else matters.

Wonwoo’s hands begin to explore you again, and then he pulls away to tug on your shirt. “Off.”

You sit up, removing the fabric, exposing your bra to him.

Wonwoo looks down at you with lust filled eyes. “You’re so pretty, Sweetheart.” His fingers tease the strap of your bra. “How’d a pretty little thing like you ever find your way to me?”

“The essay-”

“You’re so innocent though, I could tell from the moment I met you. You wouldn’t have come to me if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.”

“No, I don’t cheat.”

“And you still don’t, you did the whole essay yourself.”

“With help from you,” you blush. 

“No, Sweetheart, it was all you.” Wonwoo kisses you again, shutting up any argument you have about using his notes. 

He makes you feel so good- it’s such a safe space, and it’s the type of situation you’re not used to. The lack of judgement, the complete support- it helps you relax, helps you get even further lost in his kiss as you make out, the both of you wriggling and grinding against each other. You love the feeling of his body, the feeling of being here with him, completely enraptured mind and soul.

Wonwoo’s lips trail down to your throat, and he begins to descend. He reaches your chest, and you breathe heavily, closing your eyes to enjoy the feeling of his lips.

His fingers hook in the cup of your bra, and he pauses to look up at you, as if he’s asking for your permission. “Do it,” you tell him, trying to catch your breath.

Wonwoo grins, pulling your bra down so he can access your tits fully. His tongue flicks at your sensitive nipple, and you groan at the sensation, arching your back to push your chest closer to his face.

Wonwoo’s lips suction around the sensitive bud next, and God, it feels amazing. 

Your pussy is practically throbbing- can women cum from breast stimulus alone? You might find out if he keeps this up.

His hands cup your tits, pushing them together, and then he begins to lick at both of your nipples, switching from one to the other in a pace that has you grabbing his hair, whimpering in desperation.

You feel like you’re on fire- you feel alive, writhing on this hot nerd’s bed. It feels dirty, but it feels so right too.

He continues on your breasts for a short while, until you’re good and needy, then he makes his way to your jeans. 

“I want you naked,” he tells you.

“Then get me naked,” you counter, still breathless.

With a wink, Wonwoo pulls your jeans down, and you work on your bra. Soon, you’re completely naked from him, and unlike other times you’ve gotten with men, you don’t feel an ounce of shame. 

This feels so right, and as Wonwoo begins kissing up your thighs, prompting your legs open, you just know that sex is never going to be the same. 

Wonwoo’s eyes meet yours as he takes a lick of your pussy, and you both groan. His lips suction around your clit and your muscles spasm. He pulls away with a grin, breath hot on your aching core. “So wet already,” he muses.

“I need you,” you whimper.

“You have me,” he promises, diving back into your heat.

He doesn’t hold anything back. He eats you like you’re the most delicious fruit in the world, like your pussy juices are a nectar he needs for life itself.

You grasp at the blanket on his bed, writhing beneath him while he licks and sucks and- fuck, he just knows you so well- there’s no need for direction, no awkward moments of exploration, he just… he knows what to do, and it drives you wild. You’re completely in the moment, experiencing a raw pleasure you’ve only ever read about in erotica.

You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, and you’re a little shocked at the speed of all of this, however, you suppose the foreplay had done a number on you as well.

“Wonwoo-” you whimper, abdomen tensing.

“Cum for me,” he breathes heavily against your clit. “Want you to cum on my tongue.” 

His lips wrap around your clit again, and two more harsh sucks are all it takes to send you over the edge. You gasp desperately, entire body tensing before the moment of your release.

Hot waves of pleasure erupt over your form, all consuming. You can hardly breathe, can only gasp in ecstasy as he works you through your high.

You’re not sure how long your orgasm lasts, only that you’re out of breath and brain dead by the time Wonwoo pulls away.

You can hardly open your eyes to look up at him as he stands up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes are so full of lust- and for the first time, he looks truly demonic. But you’re not scared, you’re intrigued, in the best possible way.

“Fuck me,” you tell him quietly.

Wonwoo grins, and his canines flash in the light. “You got it, Sweetheart.”

He grabs the back of his shirt, tearing it off his head to reveal chiseled chest muscles. He’s got more of a sleeper build- the kind of guy you wouldn’t expect to be muscled, except that under layers of fabric, he’s actually sculpted by the Gods.

You can hardly breathe as he pulls his sweatpants down, and you’re practically drooling by the time he gets back on top of you, his lips hot against your own.

You cup the back of his neck, kissing him desperately, wiggling your hips, eager for stimulation.

Wonwoo concedes, rutting so his cock drags through your drenched pussy lips.

Neither of you say anything, you keep lip locked as he finally pushes into you. You both release gasps of pleasure, breathing the kiss to press your foreheads together as he sheaths further inside of you.

You open your eyes, looking up at Wonwoo, who meets your gaze with a fierceness that sets your insides on fire. 

He’s so beautiful- you’d checked his head for horns, but you can almost see an outline of demonic features- you must be dreaming, must be so lost in him that you’re seeing things. You close your eyes, drawing your lips to his again as he begins to fuck you.

Each thrust his hard, the tip of his long cock kissing your cervix. It’s a little uncomfortable at first, but the feeling becomes pleasurable much too quickly. You’re a moaning mess beneath him, clawing at his broad shoulders.

“You feel so good,” he tells you.

“No, your cock feels good,” you correct him.

“Agree,” he presses a kiss to your lips, “to disagree.”

You laugh, and Wonwoo groans at the way your giggle makes your muscles clench even tighter around his cock.

“Fuck,” he moans, taking a deep breath. 

He pulls away suddenly, and he flips you onto your stomach, grabbing your hips to lift you into the air. He positions your knees together, so you’re in doggy, and then he pushes himself back into your aching hole.

Shit- things feel even tighter in this positon, and you claw at his bed, burying your face in his duvet as he plows into you. His grip is rough on your hips, but you don’t even care- if Wonwoo continues to give you cock like this, he could do anything he wanted to you, any position, and you wouldn’t mind.

Each snap of his hips sends the sound of skin on skin through his room, but that’s the least of your worries. You’re more concerned about the fact that you can feel another orgasm bubbling up in the pit of your stomach, and your pussy is clenching even tighter around him now.

“You’re close again, aren’t you, Sweetheart?” Wonwoo asks.

“Uh huh, so deep-” you whimper.

“Rub your clit for me,”  he instructs. “Wanna feel it.”

You adjust, bringing your fingers to your sensitive bud. You begin to stoke yourself, applying just the right amount of pressure to have you crying out as he rails into you.

Wonwoo shifts, bringing one knee up so his foot is flat on the bed, giving himself better manueverabilty to fuck you like there’s no tomorrow.

“That’s it,” he groans, squeezing your hips. “Make me cum.”

The knowledge that your high will set off his own makes you even more eager to please him, and you rub your clit even harder, whimpering desperately. 

Wonwoo lets out a grunt, and the sound is music to your ears. How is he so sexy? When did a man grunting become sexy? 

Fuck, you work yourself even harder, and Wonwoo matches your enthusiasm with his thrusts, his hands pulling your hips back to meet him with each motion.

“I’m close-” you tell him, your pussy gripping him so hard-

“Let go for me,” he responds. “Need to feel it.”

A few more circular motions on your clit has you exploding, a loud whimper escaping your lips as your pussy clamps down hard on his cock. Your entire body is alight, muscles working overtime as you contract around him.

“Fuck,” Wonwoo growls, his pace faltering as he cums inside you, filling you with a warmth that makes you spasm beneath him. 

You continue to moan as he fucks you through your highs until you’re both breathless. You can feel him breathing on your back, can feel each puff-

Your own chest is heaving with effort, your eyes closed as the last inklings of euphoria sparkle through you.

Wonwoo’s hands smooth along your hips gently, and neither of you have anything to say as you recuperate.

Finally, Wonwoo gently traces your spine with a finger. “I’m going to pull out,” he tells you. “Grab you a tissue.”

“Okay.” You nod against his bed, still too blurry from your orgasm to think too hard about anything.

The loss of his cock from your aching hole is one you feel everywhere, and you whimper, cupping your pussy to stop any cum from dripping onto his bed.

Wonwoo returns quickly, moving your hand so he can press tissue to your core. “Give it a sec, and when you’re ready we can put on some clothes and head to the bathroom.”

You stay on your knees for a few more seconds before mustering your energy. When you’re finally able to stand, Wonwoo helps you up. He pulls sweatpants up your legs, followed by a hoodie to cover your bare chest.

Then, he takes your hand, guiding you to the bathroom where you both clean up.

Everything is a blur until you get back to his bedroom, where you collapse onto the mattress against his chest, eyes closed.

Wonwoo’s hand smooths up and down your arm. “How do you feel?”

“So good,” you respond.

“I’ve gotta tell you something.”

You can hear the seriousness in his tone, and you force your eyes open, looking up at him questioningly.

“I was going to wait-” Wonwoo admits, “it’s something I’ve never told anyone, not in so many words at least.” You wait for him to continue. “The whole demon thing… there’s some truth to it.”

“But… I checked for horns?” you say, confused.

“We don’t have horns, Sweetheart. We’re deal makers. You gave me your necklace, it has a soultie to your ex, one day, I’m going to drag that asshole to hell.”

You can’t help the chuckle that escapes you. “Sure you are, Wonwoo.”

“You don’t believe me,” he muses, lifting your hand so he can kiss your knuckles gently.

“I told you I wouldn’t, so what does it even matter?”

“I just wanted to start things right,” he confesses. “Wanted to do this right.” 

“This?” you counter, grinning up at him.

“Us. I want to give it a shot, if you’re interested.”

“I’m more than interested,” you admit. “But… I think, right now, I just need a little sleep.”

“Then sleep, I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, and with a smile and a deep breath, you finding yourself drifting into the most blissful sleep of your life. Demon or not, Wonwoo makes you feel protected, and that’s not something you’ll ever take lightly.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I love Wonwoo!

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. “You look so good like this, Sweetheart,” he whispers. “Being so good for me, so corruptible-” He has a bit of a corruption kink, but he’s never forced it on you. No, he’d shown you his toys, and allowed you to choose the pace on everything. You feel so comfortable with him, and it allows you to fully connect with yourself and your pleasure.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, use of sex toys, flogger, vibrator, multiple reader orgasms, breast worship, nipple clamps, slight corruption kink, dirty talk, praise, soft dom Wonwoo, fingering, slight pain kink, etc…   I petnames. (hers) Sweetheart. 

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.2k I teaser wc. 200

🌙 starring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader

bonus

It’s been a few months of dating Wonwoo, and you’ve realized the whole demon thing is completely real. It was an adjustment at first, but he’d explained everything about it. There are certain demons who do the darker stuff, but Wonwoo truly considers himself a deal maker above all else. He doesn’t kill, even though, with his power, he could.

No, he’s a mellow demon, if there is such a thing. 

It’s an opposites attract type of situation, and Wonwoo’s spent countless nights admiring your aura, discussing what it is exactly that makes you the light Yin to his dark Yang. He loves you for all of your differences, and you’ve never felt more comfortable with a person- or, should you say, demon.

He’s an ageless man with a thirst for knowledge, and you’re so attracted to his deep understanding of all things literate or scientific. You find yourself constantly learning new knowledge from him, and every day you spend together is a dream you never could have even wished for.

Aside from all the educational learning experiences you have with Wonwoo, you’ve also begun to explore his sexual knowledge, and it’s a journey you never thought you’d find yourself on.

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[alcoholfreenayeon]

can you do a g!p possessive jealous ceo karina x fem reader secretary?

Welcome to MY world

CW: G!p Karina x fem reader, nsfw, smut, oral, slight exhibitionism

A/N: Here you go anon, I hope you like it. Also @1luvkarina -

Karina walked into the building, her building. Well, atleast she liked to think it was her own as she was the CEO. She had worked quite hard to get to this level and now she was loving all the benefits that came with it. All of the employees respected and loved her. It was all going well until her secretary ended up leaving after getting married to move cities to be closer to their partner. It was all so sudden that Karina didn’t get enough time to recruit a replacement fast enough. So in the end, there was a 3 week period where she didn’t have a secretary and had to shuffle between some of her employees until she found a replacement.

She didn’t realize how long those 3 weeks would actually become. Between their own work and trying to be a temporary secretary to her, it was quite hard on her and her employees. Yui, the intern was chosen at first but she was too new and timid, often being too hesitant to speak up and she struggled to keep up with the workload and Karina decided to get someone else after a few days.

Mark, a reliable employee of hers, was chosen next, however he had a different problem. He would talk too much and offer his opinion on everything as he was always done with his work quickly and would constantly hint that maybe it would be better for him to do a more important role. Though she appreciated his enthusiasm and reliability, Karina wasn’t always in the mood to listen to suggestions and only tolerated him for 10 days.

The last 3 days, Karina thought she could manage without an assistant. It was probably the worst decision she made in a long long time and she struggled with work all day. From nearly missing meetings to losing track of which clients she had to deal with. It was one big mess and it looked like it was going to end up costing her.

Until a miracle happened. Apparently HR said they finally found the “perfect” candidate and that she was going to start after the weekend. “About damn time they finally hired someone. I know Toby took his sweet time going through the candidates knowing I’ll be struggling to get back at me for not giving him an extra week off”, Karina grumbled to herself as she waited for the new secretary to show up in her office.

A few minutes later, she heard a knock on the door. “Come in.”, Karina says calmly and curiously. The door then opens and Karina’s eyes widen as the new person walks in. She couldn’t believe how pretty you looked, staring at you in amazement before clearing her throat and briefing you.

That was your first day as the secretary. Since then, so much has happened. Karina couldn’t pin point exactly what it was about you that drove her so wild. Was it the way you pushed up your glasses to look attentive when she asked you to check something. Was it how you had your hair tied up. Was it how obedient you were, following her orders so readily or was it something else entirely. She couldn’t figure out, in fact, Karina stopped trying to figure it out and just accepted that you were hers.

But what Karina did figure out was that she absolutely couldn’t tolerate anyone else in the office get too friendly with you. Ningning from accounts made you laugh? Boom, she was given 10 extra reports to check by the end of the day. Now she’s not making you laugh nor is she laughing herself.

Karina was now always watching, it was actually starting to seriously distract her from her work now, the way she was trying to keep you to herself. Especially without anyone noticing. It didn’t help with this obsession when you leaned over her desk to show her something or when you whisper something in her ear. Or even when you make a flirty statement saying you liked that she seemed so possessive of you as you leave at the end of the day. This was going to get either you or Karina in trouble at this rate. The tension was starting to become too much to bear. Luckily for the both of you, she found a solution for this….

Karina scrolls down her computer screen, analyzing the latest financial report of the company. She breathes raggedly, her jaw clenched. Her other hand tangled into your hair while her fingers dig into your scalp as you diligently and enthusiastically bobbed your head around her cock. As you slurp, suck, sputter and gag around her cock, you feel her grip on your hair slowly tighten as she gets closer to her release. Her breathing gets heavier and she starts to let out small grunts as it’s starting to get harder and harder to focus on anything other than your mouth.

“Fuck! I can’t concentrate anymore”, Karina growls grabbing your head with her other hand as well, holding your head so tight you a bit lightheaded yet turned on. As she glares at you while guiding your head, the door suddenly bursts open and Mark waltz’s in, his latest reports in his head. Karina moves her hands away in panic, turning on the fancy pencil sharpener on her desk to hopefully drown out the sounds of you choking on her cock while aimlessly scrolling through the computer screen with the other, her teeth gritted and she’s trying her best not to let out a moan and stop her eyes from rolling.

“I finished my reports early. As usual.”, he says, moving towards the desk.

“Stop!”, Karina blurted in a panic, “Leave those right there and don’t just barge in on us like that.”, she tries to say in a stern tone but fails.

Mark looks apologetic, “I usually don’t, I generally give it to your secretary but she’s not at her desk so I came to give it to you directly.”, he says before suddenly frowning, “Huh, us? It’s just me and you in here.”

At that moment, you begin to swirl your tongue around her sensitive tip relentlessly causing her to nearly gasp out loud. She now begins to squeeze your head between her thighs doing everything in her power to not groan. “I’m…m-meeting!”, she stammers loudly, one hand gripping her desk tightly and suddenly she almost loses it and moans but stops herself at the last second, her other thrown up towards her face where she covers half her face with trembling fingers.

For Mark, it looked like Karina said she was in a meeting and pointed it to her screen, hinting it was online after which he became quiet, nodded and promptly left, looking for someone else to bother.

Immediately her hands go back to your head, “You little-ah ah!”, she buckles and slides down her chair as you make her cum. Karina lets out a strangled gasp before her cock starts spurting out rope after rope of cum down your throat and in your mouth. You keep sucking until she finishes cumming and a few seconds after that as well before pulling away from her cock with a pop, strands of saliva connecting to you her cock. You look up at her innocently before swallowing the rest of her load, wiping your mouth and chin with the back of your hand.

Meanwhile Karina is panting hard, her eyes unfocused and her jaw clenched. After a couple of minutes she finally gains some of her composure back and pulls you up from under her desk by your hair. “Bring the reports he left”, she says sternly, clearing her throat once again.

The two of you spend the next hour checking off the important things before it’s finally end of the day. “Same time tomorrow?”, you ask cheekily.

Karina stands up and walks up to you, pulling your head back by your hair and kissing you roughly. “It’s been a month and you are still asking me that?”.

You hold back a smile, your cheeks tinging red slightly, “of course, I’ll start packing up then..”, you reply.

Karina stops you by your wrist, “Not yet”, she glances out through her office glass to see the other employees making their way to the exit and smirks. She then pushes you towards her desk and bends you over it before leaning over your back, fumbling with her belt buckle as she whispers, “Your little stunt nearly got me caught and for that you are going to be doing some overtime today”.

[russo-woso]

could you do prompts 46 and 47 for alessia russo?

Prompt link here.

Stay || Alessia Russo

Summary You hadn’t been the same since you broke up with Alessia but when a major change occurs, is there a chance you Could try again?

Breaking up with Alessia had been the hardest thing you’d ever had to go through.

At the end of the day, you still loved Alessia with your whole heart and you knew she still loved you.

However, with the continuous overlap of your busy schedules, you playing for Chelsea and her playing for Arsenal, meant that the both of you couldn’t spare anytime for each other, no matter how hard you tried to.

If she had training on a Tuesday morning, you’d have it on a Tuesday afternoon.

She had a match Saturday afternoon, you had an away match on Sunday morning.

She had team bonding on a Friday night, often staying up late and having a lay in on Saturday morning, and you then having training Saturday morning and then team bonding on Saturday nights.

The worst thing was that you felt like Alessia didn’t try. She tried, but not as hard as you did.

It didn’t work. No matter how hard you tried to make it work, it just couldn’t.

So when you and Alessia sat down to talk, it ended with you walking out of the house to stay with Niamh.

It killed you knowing that Alessia wasn’t yours anymore, but it was a choice you’d both made, more so you, hoping it would make you both happier.

But it didn’t.

After not getting out of bed for anything apart from training, everyone could see the visible effect the breakup had on you.

Niamh ended up ringing Lotte to check to see if Alessia was feeling the same and to no surprise, Alessia had been slumped in bed all week, only coming out for training.

At training, the girls saw the exhaustion in your eyes, the constant sadness on your face, and after two weeks of you having no emotion apart from sadness, the girls knew they had to do something.

Niamh paired up with Lotte and Leah in hopes of figuring something out.

Eventually, after planning something over a coffee, they came up with the perfect plan.

It just so happened that a miracle had happened over the course of the past few days that could change everything.

Emma hayes had officially left, and that came with a variety of different changes.

One morning, when Niamh started banging on your door (a normal occurrence) she opened it to find you sniffling and curled up in a ball, a picture of you and Alessia resting next to you.

Normally, she’d see you and leave you alone, but this time she didn’t.

This time she urged you to get up, taking the picture and putting it on your end side table, helping you get out of bed.

“We’re going out today.” Niamh told you and before you could fight back, she cut you off. “There’s no saying no today, okay?”

“Fine.” You mumbled, wiping sleep away from your eyes.

What you didn’t know was the exact same thing was happening with Alessia and Lotte.

—

After a day full of shopping, looking for the perfect outfit, Niamh spring it upon you that you were going out drinking that night.

Niamh lied saying that it was to take your mind off everything and you believed that, but actually, it was all part of the plan.

Arriving at the bar, you found a booth in the corner, Niamh going to buy the first round of drinks.

After only ten minutes of being there, you looked around to see someone you didn’t expect to.

Her blonde hair was down perfectly, the outfit she wore was perfect, Alessia was perfect.

But the face she wore didn’t.

A frown was evident on her face along with tear stained cheeks that had been desperately covered by her makeup but was still clear to you.

“Niamh…”

“Go talk to her, Y/N. You both need to talk.” Niamh encouraged you, and you slowly nodded, accepting she was right.

Before you could even stand up, Alessia was making her way over, Lotte clearly encouraging her too.

“Can we talk?” Alessia asked, her voice breaking.

“Yeah. Sit down.” You told her, your eyebrows furrowing to try stop you from crying.

In the meantime, Niamh had left the booth, making her way over to Lotte as they took a seat on the other side of the bar, staring hopefully at the encounter between you and Alessia.

“I never wanted to break up.” Alessia announced, her eyes welling up.

“I didn’t either.” You told her. “I thought it would be better for us, but the only thing I’ve been able to do these past weeks is cry. It has been so hard without you.”

“I know. Please come back, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I promise I’ll try harder.” Alessia cried, and you took your hand in hers.

“Less, my trainings changed to the same timing as yours. The new manager has changed it all. We can try again. We’ll be able to spend time with each other.” You told her

“Oh my god.” Alessia breathed out, the reality of what could happen settling in. The two of you could actually spend more than an hour a day with each other. “I’m so sorry, love. I wish I tried harder. I wish-”

“-Lessi, it’s okay. It’s what happens now that is important.”

The two of you learned forward, connecting your lips, emotions from the past weeks being poured into the kiss.

Cheers from Lotte and Niamh could be heard from across the bar and you and Alessia laughed, pulling away from the kiss.

“They planned this, didn’t they?” You asked, still giggling.

“I think so.”

Alessia connected her lips with yours once again.

This time around, there was a sense of hope.

Hope that everything would go perfectly.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Journals

Summary: everyone is happy

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: heavyyyy angst, sad lil fic (literally what i named this before i came up with a title), mental health issues, depression, feeling unworthy of love, panic attack, self harm, self hate. thats all i can think of right now, but let me know if i need to add anything

A/n: based on this and this poetry by @gardenofrunar 🤭 you couldnt tell it was me could you pookie?

also, there is not really a bat boy our reader is supposed to be with, so im tagging this as all three of them. there will most probably not be a second part to this, but still, lemme know hat you all think

AND, im not trying to glorify what reader is going through in this fic. if you are going through something, please talk to someone. you are not alone, my loves ❣️

anyways, enjoyyyy!!

It was happening again.

The breathlessness was starting to creep up again on her.

And the worst part wasn't the fact that she felt like she was dying.

It was that she was alone. Again.

No one was coming. No one cared. No one would even realise she was gone until it was too late, and maybe that was a miracle.

Click.

The haze cleared slightly, and gasping for breath, Y/n stood, somehow making it to the stairs leading to her bedroom before her lungs constricted again.

She had no other option as she crumbled on the stairs, the hard wood digging into her sides and thighs.

She could not breathe.

She could not think.

She could not move.

She could not breathe.

A cruel laugh broke through her consciousness, the sound so familiar yet so foreign, Y/n could not help but sob.

You deserve this.

Azriel. It was him, no doubt. But the longer she sat there, other voices started joining in.

First Cassian. Then Mor, Rhysand. Amren.

Feyre, Nesta. Elain.

"Stop." She whispered, her hands shaking as she rose them to her ears, pressing as hard as she could. But no matter how much she tried to ignore it, the clearer the words became.

You deserve this.

You don't deserve us.

It's your own fault.

In an attempt to get away, to get some peace and quiet, she reached out, clutching the stair. The wood grains whispered against her palm, their sound lost to ears filled with taunts and laughter.

Still, she dug in her fingers, her nails screaming in protest, her heart yelling back in a horrific screech, beating loud enough to almost drown out her family.

Almost.

Pulling herself up, she reached out her hand, ignoring the pain as she did her best to haul her dysfunctional body up the hard terrain, trying to make it to her bed before she lost herself fully to the dark depths of her mind, losing all sense of her being.

Somehow, having no recollection of the climb, Y/n collapsed at the landing, her breathing erratic as she stared at the blurry paintings on the wall, gifted to her by Rhysand's mate.

Had they always been this blurry?

In the back of her mind, she realised that they were never blurry. There were just tears in her eyes, but she didn't think too much about that as she crawled forward, miraculously crossing the threshold to her room, the familiar smell of flowers Elain had gifted her last week pulling her out of her misery for a moment, enough to let her get up and stumble into the plush material of her bed before tears again erupted in her eyes.

They then came back, screaming in her ears about how much of a disappointment she was, how she deserved no happiness.

And she agreed with them.

But still, it hurt her heart to hear the people she cared for voice thoughts she only limited to the darkness of night, under the gentle presence of the moonlight.

You don't deserve happiness.

She knew the inevitable onslaught of her self hatred was about to break over her head, knew it was unavoidable and would probably have her moping for days.

Her mind started wandering, which in itself was alarming because as much as she wanted to stop thinking about her miserable life, she knew that any and all thoughts she had at these times would only work against her.

Rhys's tear stained cheeks, his bloodshot eyes and his quiet sobs as he clutched Y/n's hands between both of his, Y/n's soft cooing as she tried her best to soothe his wounds after his mother and sister's death.

As she held him after his return from under the mountain.

This was going to be a long night, she was sure.

Cassian's grumpy self refusing to eat after one of the Illyrians had again bullied him for not being good enough. Y/n's cheeks aching from how hard she was trying not to smile as she tried to convince the overgrown illyrian to eat something.

Azriel's shaky hands as she held onto him after a particularly bad nightmare that usually started keeping him up around the time his hands were burned, the anniversary o the time where an innocent little boy realised that the world was filled with cruelty.

Y/n being the first one to find out about Mor's liking in women and helping her sneak out to meet her lovers.

Y/n dragging gallons of fresh blood to Amren's apartment under the cover of the night when she knew the ancient being hadn't had the time to feast.

Her hands scrambled to find something to tether herself to, to remind her that this was not real and that it would pass. That her family did love her, and that they would never hurt her or want her to think this way of herself.

They would never hurt her the way she hurt herself.

They just wouldn't... would they?

Rhys's wide smile as he admired his mate while she spoke to a grinning Cassian, who in turn turned to Azriel to tease the blushing Illyrian. Mor, giggling over her glass of wine as she mumbled something to Elain, Nesta and Amren conversing in hushed tones next to the window, happiness shining on both their faces.

And Y/n watched on, huddled in her own little corner as she gulped down another glass of champagne, trying to focus on the burn in her throat as the liquor travelled down. Trying not to think of the way her breathing started coming in shorter pants, her lungs constricting in the too small rib cage that were set on killing her.

Trying to ignore the tang of copper in her mouth as she bit her own tongue, not wanting to speak and draw attention to herself, to ask for help because she was too unused to suffering in silence. Her family had always been there, and she had never had to go even a day without their constant nagging. She always had at least one of them guiding her through the worst of her days.

Trying not to think of how no one even glanced up as she exited the room, tears prickling her eyes, feeling like she was nothing but an intruder, watching from outside the warmth of the house, standing knee deep in the cold snow as she tried her best to keep warm by looking at the happy faces of her family, no matter how much she was freezing on the inside.

Her fingers curled around the lumpy material of her comforter, and she pushed forward, trying to ignore the tears that rolled down her warm cheeks and buried her head in the soft fabric.

And then let out the ear piercing scream she had been holding in, uncaring that she had let down the sound shield around her room.

She knew no one was around to hear.

She knew no one would come.

They were all too happy to worry.

Her stomach was grumbling, and she was glad it was because otherwise it would've been the cause for concern, considering she hadn't eaten in almost a day.

She was still so tired and wanted to do nothing but lay in bed all day and cry, but she needed to eat too.

And so here she was, chopping up some vegetables in a daze, not really paying attention despite wanting to focus on something that took her mind off of her thoughts.

It was not easy to stop thinking, so when suddenly the fog in her mind cleared, she glanced down.

The red of her blood was bright, and the longer she stared, the quicker the pain came, but it was only a tiny sting, nothing more than the bite of an ant in the shape of a knife.

She stared, and stared.

And then, she lifted her eyes, her gaze settling on her dagger, unprompted.

She smiled.

Writing was one of the parts of Y/n's responsibilities. Writing a letter to help the relations between the courts. A report for the high lord.

It was one of the things that broke her out of her own mind's torture, one of the things that made her feel like she wasn't entirely useless.

So here she was, just scribbling away senseless words in her journal, knowing she would hide it away before anyone saw it. Saw the blood stains.

For the first time in weeks, she was smiling, no tears to be found in her eyes as she lay on her stomach on the bed, her legs in the air behind her as she began doodling little flowers in the corner of the page, her inkpot next to her and her dagger in her other hand.

She went to dip in her feather pen in the ink, frowning a little as it created spots of ink on the crumpled paper, mixing with the dark red liquid that still dripped slowly from her fingers, little rivulets running down from her wrist.

As she continued, a tap on her mental walls had her pausing, and after a brief conversation with Rhys, she got up, closing her journal and beginning to clean the cuts on her wrist and around the journal and then donning a flowy, simple white gown.

It wasn't long before a knock sounded at her door, and she hurried to open it to find Cassian standing on her front porch, smiling.

"Hey Y/n, Rhys asked me to pick you up-"

Y/n nodded. "Yes I know, let me just grab my things and then we can go."

He shrugged, leaning against the doorframe.

She ran up the stairs and to her bedroom, grabbing the little bag she had put all her pens and previous reports into, deciding to carry them with her just in case.

She hurried back out within a few moments, but she saw that Cassian had moved, standing near the gates. Which was suspicious, but not too alarming as she stepped onto the porch.

"Let's go."

Before she shut the door Y/n turned and glanced around the house for the last time. Why, she didn't know. But she couldn't shake the feeling in her gut that something was wrong.

And she had known to always trust her gut.

But she turned around, locking the door before leaving.

Not realising her journal was missing from the table.

"I really don't want to pressure you too much Y/n, so if you don't want to be a part of this research, I understand-"

"Rhys, this is no burden. I'm actually honoured you even considered me for this project."

His brows furrowed, his smile turning confused. "What are you talking about Y/n? You're one of the smartest people I know. Of course you are included-" he trailed off, his eyes filling with understanding. "How have you been Y/n?"

Y/n blinked, pretending not to understand what he meant by that. Of course Rhys knew she struggled with feeling worthy of her family, and of course he made that connection.

"I've been good, Rhys." Y/n mumbled, an easy grin on her face as if Rhys's concern was ridiculous.

"Have you had any recent episodes-"

"Guess what I found!"

He paused, both their heads turning to where Cassian's booming voice floated through the cracked door.

Y/n's whole body ran cold, and before she could even question the reaction of her body to something that wouldn't have concerned her before, she was stumbling out the door, following Cassian's voice to the sitting room, where everyone else was gathered.

Cassian was grinning as he explained to them how he had gone to pick Y/n's up from her house, and how he found-

Her secret diary.

Y/n's eyes widened, her legs refusing to move as her gaze locked on the book Cassian held in his hand.

"Oh, look, she's here too!" He turned to her, his expression carefree and inviting. "Never knew you had a diary Y/n. What will I find if I read through it? Your secret lover's name? His-"

"Cass." Y/n warned, finally getting herself to move forward as he danced back, his hands beginning to crack open the book.

"Will I find your secret fantasies-"

He stopped dead in his tracks, all the emotions gone from his face as he stared at the page he had opened, his features hard. Y/n waited with bated breath, her head turning to gauge everyone's reaction.

Mor sat with Nyx in her lap, bouncing him as she glanced between Y/n and Cassian. Feyre and Azriel exchanged confused glances before Azriel stood, stalking towards Cass.

Panicked, Y/n jumped forward, but before her hand could wrap around her journal, he pulled away, face pale.

"What is this?"

"None of your business."

Azriel had stopped, his eyes wide as he stared at Y/n.

That's when Y/n realised he had smelled the blood she left on the pages.

Damn it.

Y/n stepped back towards the exit as she felt all the eyes on her, panic starting to dig its claws in her gut and begin its ascent up her throat as the shadows curled around Azriel's ear and his eyes went to her wrist, covered by the long sleeves of her dress.

Y/n turned to find Rhys standing in the doorway, his eyes filled with tears.

"Why?"

She glanced once at everyone, tears starting to fill her own eyes, her face flushing in embarrassment, mad that she had started crying over nothing, and pushed past Rhys, running towards the front door.

"Y/n!"

They will be mad.

You deserve it.

Y/n fled the river house, ignoring the concerned looks thrown her way by the people on the streets as she ran straight to her house.

They hate you.

The door slammed shut behind her as she leaned against it, gasping for breath as her lungs started contracting painfully, refusing to let her breathe.

The breathlessness was starting to creep up again on her.

It was happening again.

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686

@cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1

@hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21

@mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175 @starsinyourseyes

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @byyalady @lilah-asteria

@girlswithimagination @gardenofrunar @girlswithimagination @sunnyspycat

@artists-ally @riddlesb1tch @milswrites @berryzxx

Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings @azrielsmate3 @celestialend

@stqrgirlies-blog @tele86 @bakananya @xyzmeh

@st4r-girl-official @caraaaaugh @nacho-nat @allllium

@fandomarchiveilyd @nickishadow139

Cassian Taglist: @moonlwghts @samslittlespoon @nickishadow139

[akindplace]

The thing about romanticizing the tortured artist trope is that it takes very serious health conditions, physical, mental, and emotional ones, and it turns it into a very empty aesthetic made for consumption. It takes a life story, and it turns it into a punch line, an easy way out to explain a lifelong struggle while having no regard for the person who actually lived it.

It’s a way of simplifying something so complex as a whole life story, take away the good parts, the artist’s talent, and atribute years and year of studying and practicing their craft to an illness. As if it makes people feel better that maybe they aren’t geniuses but at least they aren’t “insane”.

Artists are constantly working to the bone to get people to see and understand their art, to change the current status quo, to perfect their craft. The most important thing is not how an artist died. It’s the life they lived, the work they’ve left behind, their mark on the world. Reducing people to a tragedy is not a way of appreciating their genius: their art is.

No one is a genius because of their illness, their trauma, their suffering, but because they studied and worked hard to develop the aptitude they were born with. Talent is not a miracle, it’s a lifelong effort.

This stereotype is extremely harmful to people who are currently struggling with those health problems, and it should not be used to “give pain a meaning”, because there is always so much more to someone’s life than suffering, and there is always so much more to your own life than romanticizing your own struggles and those of others.

Pain is meant to be worked through, not fed. And when you feed yourself the myth that an artist was brilliant because they were sick, you are erasing a big part of their life to try and make sense of yours. But you won’t find true meaning in life if you’re only feeding your sorrow instead of maybe, just maybe, doing what those artists did and work through it with your own art.

A lot of them did not have any access to healthcare because their conditions were unknown, but they did what they could to keep going. Their deaths don’t mean they gave up in a big tragic ending, and reducing them to that means you’re erasing everything they did to keep going, every fight, every effort they put into their own health and into their life’s work.

I love impressionist art ever since I was in elementary school, my favorite artist being Vincent Van Gogh. I was first introduced to his story as a man who had a mental illness and died a tragic death, while struggling financially and never being recognized properly during his lifetime.

But you see, Vincent Van Gogh had his brother Theo, who kept all the letters his older brother sent him, and sent his brother words of admiration, support, and unconditional love in his own.

He helped Vincent financially so he could pursue his paiting career. He saw the talent in his own brother even when others might’ve not. The period when Vincent was doing a little better with his health was actually when he was most prolific in his painting, which shuts down the idea that someone must be on the gutter and on the deepest pain and sickness to produce great art.

Most people in really poor health have a hard time managing daily life, and they probably won’t miraculously produce their best work yet while they in extreme suffering (I dare you to make the greatest work of art you’re capable of while you’re down with the flu, now imagine being in constant physical, mental and emotional distress and people think you can just make just about anything). Great art takes a lot of work. Genius and suffering don’t go hand in hand, and it reductive to explain away talent by an illness, as if any effort artists put into their craft was meaningless.

Theo named his own son after his brother, and after Vicent died, he still wanted to make his work known, and after his own death, his wife Johanna kept working on Theo’s mission besides her own political activism. She published the letters between the two brothers, and her own son helped in making Van Gogh’s work even more well known. Even though he was just a baby when his uncle died, he kept his memory alive by founding a world famous museum in his name.

Vincent Van Gogh was able to keep working because he was helped by his own family, financially, emocionally, and was given every encouragement so he could go on with his own career. He painted more when he got medical help, even though in his own time he would have had access to much simpler treatments, since the understanding of illnesses has largely changed in the last centuries.

Healthcare, support, compassion and understanding go a long way, and that’s why it’s important to keep pushing society to be more inclusive to people with illnesses - so they will get the help they need, so they won’t leave earlier than they should.

Vincent Van Gogh’s name is not well known just because of his own efforts, but also by the efforts of those who loved him and kept his name alive long after he was gone. He is not famous because he was a tortured artist. He is famous because those who loved him tried to help him in the ways they could, even after he was gone. His fame is not the result of his death, but of his life’s work and the work of those around him.

Love made him known. Support allowed him to keep working. Getting some help even at a time people did not understand his condition well enough meant he could paint more.

Van Gogh was only human, and he felt such a broad spectrum of emotions and lived through so many things, just as we all do. Behind those paintings, there is a person, a story, and so much hard work, and none of that can be reduced to the romanticized ideal of a tragic death of a tortured man.

It is not about his pain, his suffering, his death, you see. It’s about his life. And it’s about the life of those who loved him. He was able to do what he loved because he was loved, and that is the reason is remembered to this day.

I will end this long post with one of his most famous quotes:

“There is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.”

[janeyseymour]

Longing Looks and Stolen Glances- pt 2

part 1.

This was requested a long time ago by @theboreworms and honestly, let me know if you want to see a part 3!

Summary: Your coworkers react to you getting engaged, and you're forced to explain how it happened.

WC: ~1.75k

“You got engaged?” Your coworkers all shout at you.

“Melissa Schemmenti,” Barbara admonishes. “You don’t even tell me, your work wife, that you are romantically involved with someone, and then you walk in engaged?!”

“Surprise?” you try to smooth over. It doesn’t work very well. Your coworkers continue to flounder for words at this news.

Before you can stop them, Jacob and Janine grab for your left hand to inspect the beautiful engagement ring that is now sitting on your finger. It sparkles as the sunlight hits it perfectly.

“Holy shit,” Mr. Johnson lets out as he gets a glance at the ring. “Damn, Red. You did good with that one.”

Your fiancee can’t help the pride on her face.

“Well, I expect to hear all about this now,” the kindergarten teacher hits the two of you with pointed looks.

So, with a sigh, you divulge into the story of how the two of you got together. “One of the camera men was innocently flirting with me.” Green eyes glare at the camera man in question. “And I guess this one got jealous, because the next thing I know, she’s storming into my room and is kissing me.”

“They all knew we were dancing around each other and took matters into their own hands,” the redhead rolls her eyes. “And the only reason I was okay with their meddlin’ is because I got the girl in the end.”

“We started dating quietly, no one knowing except for the camera crew because they had to,” you state.

“And I swore them to secrecy,” Melissa sighs. “Ain’t nobody need to know our business until we were ready.”

“And then… it just became kind of normal, and we forgot to tell youse,” you smile apologetically.

“How do you forget something like that?” Barbara rolls her eyes. “I assume the two of you are moving in together?”

You bite your lip. “Do you remember when I was moving about a year ago?” you ask sheepishly.

“You moved in with Mel Mel?” the redhead’s former roommate asks, brows about as high as they’ll go.

“I did,” you smile shyly. 

“I thought you said you was never gettin’ married again,” Ava states. “Full of shit.”

Your fiancee looks to you. “I think I said it would take a freakin’ miracle, and… Y/N is that miracle for me.”

“Well,” Janine bounces back and forth on her toes in excitement. “How’d it happen? And when is the wedding? And are we all invited? Ooh, is Barb going to be in the-”

“Slow your roll, pipsqueak,” Melissa chuckles with a roll of her eyes. “One question at a time.”

“How’d you get engaged?”

It honestly wasn’t that much different than any other day in your lives. The two of you had woken up yesterday morning and gotten ready for school as you usually would. Melissa made breakfast, and the two of you enjoyed your meal and hot beverages in a peaceful bliss before you had to head out to school. She drove the two of you in, hands resting intertwined on the center console. You sang along to the radio, and it took everything in your girlfriend to not get distracted by your absolute beauty. The school day went on as it usually does, if not filled with more chaos than usual. And when it was time for the teachers to head out for the day, you were stuck prepping for the next day as usual. You’re the last teachers to leave. That isn’t uncommon, so most teachers don’t know that you come in and leave together anyway. But, even those who do know that you live relatively close to each other, so you often carpool (they don’t realize that you actually live together). Dinner was lovely as always, and the wine that was paired with your meal was absolutely perfect. The two of you cleaned up, changed into more comfortable clothes to lounge around in, and then settled on the couch for some relaxation time with another glass of wine and some homemade tiramisu from the night before. You’re watching some corny show about love that the two of you love to indulge in secretly.

“This show gives such unrealistic expectations of love,” you sigh out as you settle a hand on her knee.

Melissa brings a spoonful of the sweet dessert to your mouth, and you smile softly. “What do you mean, hun?”

“They show all the glitz and the glamour and all of that shit,” you chuckle. “But they don’t want to show the everyday realness of the dates that people go on, or the nights in. They don’t show the harder moments. They only want to show the fireworks of a relationship.”

“I guess you’re right,” your girlfriend laughs as she takes her own mouthful of the tiramisu.

You kiss her softly. “Like, I get it… I just think they skew people’s perception of what love is.”

“Do you think we have a realistic love?”

You nod. “Of course I do. We’ve had our own firework moments, but some of the best moments are the everyday life moments.”

“Like?”

“Like… our drives to and from work, or just out to a plain and simple coffee shop where we both focus on getting papers done. Or when we cook dinner together and dance around like fools.”

“Do you miss the big firework moments?”

“Lissa,” you turn to her with warm eyes. “I love everything about our relationship. You know that.”

“You’re not going to miss the engagement, and all of the things that come with a wedding?” she asks you hesitantly.

“When we started dating, I told you that I don’t need all that stuff,” you tell her honestly. “A life with you is complete, whether we have the rings and the piece of paper or not.”

“But like, when you were younger, you dreamed of being married with kids,” your girlfriend says softly.

“I did,” you admit. “But then I met you, and none of that mattered anymore.”

Before you know what she’s doing, Melissa is off the couch and on the ground, propped on one knee. She takes your hands in her own. “Marry me.”

Your eyes go wide. This was not what you were expecting tonight. “Lis, what?”

“Marry me,” she says again. “You’re worth all of my doubts and fears. You’re worth the harassment we’ll get from the group for getting me to change my mind on it all.”

“Mel, you don’t have to do this,” you tell her as you try to get her to get off of her bad knee. And why she chose to kneel down on the knee that she’s always rubbing at is beyond you. “You don’t have to do this because you think it’s what I want.”

“I want this,” she tells you finitely, continuing to kneel. Then she jumps up. “Hold on.”

Your girlfriend runs up the steps and races back down before kneeling back down in front of you and opening a beautiful ring box. “Does this prove to you that I want this? Marry me.”

You look into her eyes for any hints that she’s feeling pressured to do this- that this isn’t what she truly wants. But… for a brief second you think about the fact that you didn’t even know she had gone ring shopping- that you haven’t spoken about marriage in any certain ways since things started to get serious between the two of you.

To your girlfriend, those few moments where you don’t say anything feel like a lifetime, and she almost stands from her place and tells you to forget she ever said anything. Before she can though, you capture her lips.

“Yes,” you mumble against them as you pull her off her knee and onto the couch. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you.”

The redhead smiles into the kiss, and when you pull away she slips the ring onto your finger with shaky hands. “Really?”

You don’t even look at the ring before you place your hand on her cheek and wipe away the tear that threatens to escape from her face before nodding and kissing her again, nodding.

Only once you’ve pulled away for a second time do you take a gander at the ring. It’s stunning, and yet it’s so simple and screams you. 

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper as you admire the sparkling rock that now sits upon your finger. “When did you get this?”

She takes your hand in her own and runs her thumb along your knuckles. “A couple months ago, I started thinkin’ more seriously about us. How I always said it would take a freaking miracle for me to even consider gettin’ married again, and how you happily accepted that answer despite your own desires. I got it about a month ago, and I’ve been thinkin’ about the perfect way to propose, but… I couldn’t wait any longer.”

“This was the perfect way to propose,” you tell her quietly. “Just us alone, in the peace and quiet of our own house. I told you, I don’t need the fireworks to know that I am the happiest I could be with you.”

The entire staff is looking at you with soft, warm eyes as they swoon at the way that the two of you got engaged. Barbara, for as annoyed as she looked when the two of you revealed that you were not only together- but engaged to be married, looks thrilled for the two of you. She nudges her work wife gently.

“Look at you, getting married again,” the kindergarten teacher smiles.

Your favorite green eyes are rolled as Melissa grabs your hand softly and kisses your knuckles.

Janine and Jacob, in their trademarked fashion, begin to bombard the two of you with more questions, but your girlfriend simply puts up her hand to signal them to stop.

“As much as you know I would love to answer all of your questions,” your now fiancee says, sarcasm dripping in her voice. “The lady and I have to get down to our classrooms to prep for today, and hopefully start planning the first Abbott wedding.”

The group immediately starts to protest, but Melissa simply picks up her coffee cup, gestures for you to do the same, and pulls you away.

You throw them all a wink. “We’ll give you details today at lunch.”

“Babe!” Melissa groans.

tags: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Why am i ready for stalker aemond that has slow burn and is super angsty? like someone who isnt afraid of his scar in preschool then moves away but he found her in either social media or a sports meet and started stalking from then on and then he goes to the same college and remembers her schedule, which dorm shes in and trying to get in her room at night or is in the dorm across from her and ugh i could start a fic tbh

If you do start a Fic, 100% tag me in that sh*t! I would LOVE to read it, but because you sent it to me imma give it a go for you cause it sounds delicious! I hope it is everything you want it to be!

Yandere!Aemond. Major Stalking! You’ve Been Warned!

DD:DNE

Aemond considered Y/n to be a miracle from the day he met her.

It was the first day of Pre-School and he wanted to be anywhere but there, surrounded by other students. He wanted to be at home with his mother, or even his big brother, anyone just to get away from the staring children.

Aemond had learned almost as soon as his cousin had sliced his face open that while adults would stare, they would at least be discreet about it, children were not. Aemond, while being a child, didn’t consider himself one, and it was something most adults found amusing as he would much rather spend time with his mother or the adults in his family than with his siblings or cousins. He would rather read than play with toys, rather watch movies his mother liked than ones his siblings enjoyed, it’s just the way Aemond had always been…until her.

All of the children stared at him from the moment he walked in and said “goodbye” to his mother. The staff tried to direct the children away, told them it was rude to stare, but they weren’t always paying attention and trying to get a bunch of 4 year olds attention when they’re locked onto something is…difficult at best. Around lunch time the staff had left all but one in the room to prepare food for the kids and suddenly Aemond found a boy much larger than him to be holding his eyepatch in his hand, the children around him laughing and teasing immediately. The teacher was on the other side of the room and oblivious as Aemond tried to grab his eyepatch back, the other boy shoving him to the ground before he was suddenly laying right beside Aemond holding his crotch and wailing in pain. A blonde girl that Aemond could only describe as beautiful was standing above him with an angry look on her face.

‘What did he ever do to you?! Huh?! Leave Him Alone!’ She snatched the eyepatch from the portly child’s hand and moved to hand it back to Aemond who strapped it back on immediately. ‘Are you okay?’ Aemond nodded quickly, opening his mouth to speak but finding no words that would come out. ‘I’m Y/n, you’re Aemond, right?’ He nodded again, mouth hanging open dumbly and looking like an idiot he is sure. ‘I’m sorry he did that, No one should be mean like that for something you can’t help and you don’t have to tell no one nothing…I’m sorry, you want to be alone.’ She turned to walk away when he finally got his voice box to work…sadly it had been muted so long that the sound he finally made was a bit too loud.

‘NO!’ He exclaimed and she jumped, turning back to him instantly. ‘I’m sorry…I mean, no, I don’t want to be alone…it’s nice to meet you Y/n…do you want to sit with me for lunch?’ She smiled, a red tint to her cheeks and Aemond decided he absolutely adored her pretty smile.

‘Yeah…that sounds fun.’ She grabbed ahold of his hand and pulled him over to a table, handing him a place mat and some crayons to decorate it with. Coloring was never something Aemond had really enjoyed, Art wasn’t his thing, but if Y/n enjoyed it then so did he.

Aemond and Y/n spent the rest of the day together before pick-up and as soon as he said “good-bye”, leaving with his mothers driver and climbed into the car beside his mom, he was talking about her. Alicent was thrilled that her son had made a friend his own age, while it’s entertaining to see her 4 year old boy so grown-up and mature, she didn’t want him to miss out on being a child just because he didn’t have any friends.

At the end of the week, after learning that Aemond and Y/n’s friendship wasn’t going anywhere, Alicent stood outside to pick her son up rather than wait in the car for their driver to get him. She watched her son run outside, hand in hand with a girl a bit shorter than him and they looked truly adorable. ‘Mom!’ Her son exclaimed, excited to see her waiting for him herself and deciding she should do this more often to see that smile so rare on her baby’s face.

‘Hello, my sweet Little Dragon! How was your day?’ She asked, watching the girl run to a women a few feet away and take her hand.

‘It was so good! Y/n and I made pictures of our families for the wall-wait! You need to meet her! Y/n!’ Aemond exclaimed, the girl stopping and her mother looking back as well, slightly irritated. ‘Mom, this is Y/n, she’s my best friend!’ He grinned and so did Y/n who hugged him at that deceleration.

‘Well, if she’s your best friend then you must have her over for a play date. Would that be alright?’ She asked the girls mom.

‘Oh, yes, of course. Anytime.’ She spoke, writing down her number on a piece of paper. ‘I’m Marie, it’s nice to meet you, Y/n talks about your boy all the time.’

‘Mom!’ The girl whined, the mothers sharing a side smile at their kids evident first crush on each other.

‘It’s lovely to meet you, I’m Alicent. How about tomorrow? She can come by and spend the day with us, I’ll drop her at home after dinner?’ Her mom looked surprised.

‘That’s perfect actually, I have work all day. Text me your address and what time to drop her off, she will love spending the day with Aemond rather than the neighbor. I’m sorry to say I’m in a rush to get back to work, it was nice meeting you Alicent, and you too Aemond. Come on Y/n, let go.’

‘Bye Aemond!’ Y/n waved, her mother dragging her off. She didn’t strike Alicent as rude, just in a bit of a hurry. You could clearly see the difference in their status in life, if not just from the fact that Y/n’s mother was wearing a waitress uniform and Alicent was wearing a Versace dress and Gucci shoes. She finds herself wondering how the women pays for the fancy daycare at all.

Alicent had married rich, Viserys happy to give her anything she wants as long as she doesn’t bother him at work, and he’s always at work. When he’s not however he is spending time with his daughter from his first marriage, Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra is 24 now, Viserys being significantly older than Alicent but she didn’t mind, he was a good, gentle man and that was hard to come by now a days. She had 2 sons, Jace who was 5 and Luke who was 3 (a child she detested for being the one who had sliced her baby’s face open 6 months before as he ran around the mansion with an old dagger from Viserys’ office and didn’t pay attention to her son sitting on the ground), though Rhaenyra was also pregnant with another child, none of which are her husbands clearly but that’s not her business… Alicent has 3 children of her own, Aegon who was 7, Helaena who was 5 and Aemond who had just turned 4, though she also suspected she was carrying a child that she hoped was a girl if not just to keep another boy from the chaos and bullying that goes on between the siblings and cousins.

‘Y/n is gonna spend the whole day with me?!’ Aemond suddenly exclaimed, knocking his mother from her thoughts.

‘Yes, she is. You’ll need to plan what you two want to do for the day and I’ll make sure Aegon doesn’t disturb you.’

‘Jace and Luke either?’ He asked…begged is more like.

‘Jace and Luke either, I’ll make sure they have something to do when they come tomorrow.’ The family always came to the house on the weekends as Viserys took that time for his family…part of it anyway.

‘Yay! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!’ Alicent was thrilled to see her son so happy…she had no idea it would be so incredibly short lived.

Y/n had begun spending the day with Aemond every day, coming to their house in their car after school, her mother coming to get her after work to take her home looking more tired than the night before. Alicent had tried to help the poor women. It turns out her husband had cheated on her while she was pregnant and gotten another women pregnant, divorcing her for his mistress and son. He’s the one who paid for the fancy preschool while her mother worked 3 jobs to keep everything afloat in their one bedroom apartment, since he paid for such a nice school he only paid 200 in child support leaving Marie with everything else and all the debt he had left behind in her name.

Alicent was happy to watch Y/n whenever she needed, it made her son happy and that’s all she wanted in the world. She had been so scared for him before he met Y/n that he would end up going down a dark path, the bullying at home and at school having been hard for him as well as his father clearly loving the child who had butchered him more than his own son.

That all came to a grinding halt however when Y/n’s mom was evicted from her apartment leaving them homeless, forcing them to move in with Marie’s ex-mother in-law who lived in New York. Aemond had tried to promise to visit every weekend before Alicent was forced to explain just how far away New York was from California, to say the children were upset was a huge understatement. The teary good-bye nearly broke the mothers hearts as they swore to write to each other every day, and they did, they both learned to write faster than any of the kids their age just to write to each other and it lasted about a year. Y/n’s grandmother had found out she was writing to a boy in California and cut it off, threatening to take Y/n away from her mother if her mother didn’t stop the interaction. Marie wrote Alicent and explained what had happened leaving her to break her baby’s heart all over again.

Aemond became cold after that. He had no more friends, detested his cousins, tolerated his brothers and only loved Helaena though she was with friends everyday of her life. He took his schooling very seriously, taking several extra curricular’s on the side to take up his time which consisted of Jiu-Jitsu, Tae Kwon Do, and oddly enough, sword fighting which Alicent didn’t support right away until he promised to start with fencing. It turned out that he was really good at it and his father hired a trainer, Criston Cole, to teach him sword fighting, paying to transform a room in the mansion into a training room.

Once Aemond got to middle school, no one was bullying him anymore after breaking 3 kids noses and 2 of their arms. When he turned 14 and moved up to high school he had finally broken down and created an Instagram account. Aemond hated social media, he found it annoying and pointless, but he quickly found a use for it once he looked up Y/n and found her account. It wasn’t private, making it easy to look through all of her pictures, finding out that she still lived in New York with just her Grandmother now as her mother had passed away in a hit and run with a drunk driver when she was 9. She had many pictures with her and another girl who seemed to be her best and only friend and nowhere could Aemond find anything about a boyfriend which gave him an instant sense of relief. He had spent the last almost 10 years obsessing over her, though he kept it to himself. He had sent her a letter a few years before, hoping that maybe now that they had grown a bit she would be able to write him back but it was returned unopened with a note that told him to never send anything again or her grandmother would file a restraining order.

For the next 2 years he was as content as he could be watching her life through social media, until their junior year that is when he decided to pay a man to hack into her computer, actually watching what he did and figuring out how to go about doing it himself. He read all of her emails from then on, finding out what colleges she was applying to and applying himself, knowing he would obviously get in with his incredible grades and extra curricular’s. Her grandmother was forcing her to go to college, wanting her to be a physical therapist despite the fact that she wanted to be an artist. Aemond had found she had a separate, secret Instagram account that her grandmother didn’t know about that held all of her paintings and sketches, and she was honestly incredible.

Aemond had decided that when she was his she would drop out of college and move in with him, she would have her own little art studio to do whatever she wanted in. He would buy her anything she wanted, give her everything in the world if she only asked for it, Y/n Y/L/n was going to be his wife…whether she knew it yet or not.

At 18, Aemond moved out to New York for the year, deciding not to go to college but convincing his father to open a branch of his publishing business out there and let him set everything up for him. It wouldn’t be hard, honestly Aemond would pay others to do everything and just oversee the company while he watched over his Princess. He had already been stalking her online for over 4 years and in her own computer for 2, this was hardly a step up.

Alicent knew of course, she knew that her son had become more than a little obsessed with his childhood friend and she knew that that’s why her boy was going to New York, she had been the one to talk her husband into letting him go. She wanted him to be happy, by any means necessary after all this time of misery and if he needed Y/n to make that happen then she was more than happy to welcome the sweet girl into the family. Even if she knew what her son was doing was wrong, she couldn’t change his mind, and she didn’t want to. Alicent loved Y/n and she knew that if there was one person in the world that her son would never hurt, it was her.

He watched from across the Quad as she arrived at the school, unpacking her things from the car and moving it all into her dorm room, a room which Aemond had made sure was a single for only her, he also made sure he had acquired a key for himself. He felt horrible that he couldn’t help her move things, especially the heavy things, but he knew there was no way she wouldn’t recognize him, and she clearly remembered him. She had several old pictures uploaded to her Instagram of the two of them together, one of them at a Carnival with their faces painted (which she had made him do, even forcing the painter to paint over the eyepatch since it would wash off), one of them carving pumpkins on Halloween, and Aemond’s personal favorite, a picture of the two of them snuggled up in his bed as she had slept over the night before, she was snuggled into his chest with his arms around her and his face in her hair which covered the scar completely. He knew she had plenty of pictures of the two of them without his eye patch on but she never put them online and he loved her for that, even if she didn’t know it yet. Next to his mother, she was the only person who really understood how sensitive he was about his scar and she never made him feel less than because of it, he knew she would never betray him, not even having shown her mother the pictures without the eyepatch.

He followed her to all of her classes, often watching them through the security cameras he had hacked into (becoming quite good at it) to see her during class, he had always loved her look of concentration as her eyes narrowed and she looked like she was scowling at you, she was adorable. He had placed several cameras in her room as well, watching her whenever he could, all she really did was school work and he realized how overwhelmed she was by college life, school was never her environment, it was too stressful for her and her free spirited mind and he knew it. He also knew that her Grandmother had threatened to kick her out onto the streets if she didn’t go to college for what she told her to, he had plans for that women, she will get what she deserves.

On several occasions he was witness to moments that he knew should be private, whether that be her stressed out crying or more…intimate moments. He couldn’t help but watch as her fingers touched her pretty little pussy, rubbing her clit and listening to the sweet sounds she made trying to be quiet, he couldn’t help but wrap his fingers around his length and edge himself right along with her, imagining those fingers in her cunt were his cock, desperate to feel her soft, warm pussy squeezing him as tight as it could as he made her cum again and again until she couldn’t take it anymore. He had fantasized about making her cum on his cock since he was 13 years old and by now he was more than desperate for her.

There were a few nights he actually snuck into the dorms and into her room, watching her sleep up close, trailing his fingers down her body, hating that he can’t just crawl into the bed beside her and hold her tight while he shoves his cock into her and makes her fall asleep with it as deep as it can get.

2 months he watched her before knowing he needed to make her his now, before it was too late. She had been asked out on a date by a Frat guy, begging to take her to a party and Aemond knew he couldn’t allow this.

The Frat boy got a visit from him later that night, waking up to Aemond sitting on the edge of his bed and realizing he had been tied down so tight that the ropes were cutting off circulation to his hands and feet. ‘Hello Chad, so sorry to wake you but this is a very important matter you see. Scream, and I will bash your brains in before anyone can even find out the door is locked, got it?’ He nodded quickly, terror in his eyes and Aemond found that he loved it, he loved scaring people that would hurt his Princess, she doesn’t deserve the kind of treatment this idiot would give her and Aemond knew that party wasn’t anything more than to make fun of his girl. The Frat assholes all getting a freshman girl to come to the ‘party’ and whichever guy could get their girl to put out first won some bullshit prize.

No. His Princess would not be humiliated like that.

‘You see Chad, you are bringing a girl back here tomorrow night, her name is Y/n, yes?’ He nodded again.

‘I didn’t know she was your girl, she didn’t say anything like that! I would never-‘

‘Yes you would, don’t lie to me Chad, boyfriend or not you would happily have brought her back here and made her a part of your little game.’ His eyes widened, unsure how Aemond could possibly know about that. ‘You’re not going to pick her up tomorrow Chad, do you understand? I will not have my Princess hurt and humiliated by an idiotic asshole who realistically couldn’t make a girl smile let alone cum. Now, this is just a warning of course, if I find out you went anywhere near her after our little conversation here, I would have to do something far worse than break into your disgusting Frat house and break your eye socket, do you get me?’

‘Yes! Yes, I-wait…break my wha-‘ quickly Aemond brought the bat he had picked up from the floor, down against the jackasses face, shoving the edge of his blanket into his mouth as he went to scream.

‘Secretly, I hope you do try something just so I get to have an excuse to come back here and break every one of your ribs before I ensure no women will ever say yes to a date with you again.’ He flicked open a blade, holding it against Chads face and hearing him whimper like a bitch. ‘It’s okay Chad, I’m not going to hurt you as long as you do what I’ve said here tonight. Are we on the same page?’ He nodded quickly and Aemond stood, walking out of the room and leaving the house, deciding on taking the bat with him, just in case.

The next night Y/n waited in the Quad at 9 o’clock, cursing out the asshole who didn’t pick her up and feeling the tears welling up in her eyes. She had been so alone here all this time, in a place she didn’t want to be at in the first place and just when she thought someone might be interested in her, even an asshole Frat jock, he stands her up. She felt like she couldn’t hold it in anymore, trying to muffle her cries with the sleeves of her hoodie before hearing someone speak to her.

‘Are you alright Princess?’ Princess? No one had called her Princess since-

Her head snapped up and she saw a very tall man standing about 5 feet away, he was lanky but still covered in muscle that you could clearly see through his tight henley shirt, he wore jeans and heavy boots with his silver hair tied in a bun at the back of his head. They black eyepatch sealed the deal for her though, if she didn’t already assume who this is, now she knows. ‘Aemond? Is that you?’

‘In the flesh…why are you crying Princess?’ He moved to sit beside her on the edge of the fountain and she just stared at him in shock.

‘I…I got stood up-what are you doing here?!’ He smiled sweetly and she couldn’t help but think how handsome her best friend had become…he’s a panty dropper!

‘I’m in New York setting up a branch here for Dad, the school however, my father has recently become a benefactor of, Daeron wants to come to school here for a year to start his doctorate in 2 years, you know dad, start bribing them as early as possible.’ He joked and she giggled, remembering exactly how Viserys used to be. She never had seen him much, which she understood was Aemond’s experience too, but he was always very sweet to her, bringing her gifts and sweets with all of his other children since she was there almost 100% of the time.

‘Did you know I was here?’ He nodded and she glared half heartedly at him. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?!’ She raged, punching him in the arm.

‘We’ll mostly because I sent a letter a few years after you left and your grandmother wrote back that I would receive a restraining order if I ever contacted you again. That’s why I never reached out online either, I didn’t want to get you in trouble if she found out.’ Her face fell as he told her that and her tears began streaming again. ‘No more tears Princess, please? Such a gorgeous girl should never feel the need to shed a tear.’ He reached up, taking her face in his hands and wiping her tears with his thumbs tenderly.

‘I’m sorry she did that to you! I wanted to talk to you so badly, everyday! She was so awful to my mom and I thought maybe I would be able to talk to you when we were older but she kept tabs on everything I ever did and now I’m being forced to go to this shitty fucking school and live on campus all alone, and suffocate under a course load that I didn’t want in the first place…I just wanted to paint…and the first time I think maybe I could actually not be completely alone here I get stood up by an asshole Frat jerk!’ Aemond had pulled her to his chest as soon as she started ranting, knowing she needs someone to be there for her and he was determined to make sure it was him. ‘And now I’m ranting to you when you clearly have places to be, I’m sorry!’ She tried to pull away but he didn’t let her, lifting her into his lap for good measure and smiling at the squeak that came from her when she was sat down on him.

‘None of that Princess, you have always been and will always be most important, and I finished my meeting. I’m all yours.’ He said it in a way that he hoped she would hear his dedication to her, and she did, she heard it and couldn’t help but hope he meant he really was all hers. ‘Do you have classes tomorrow?’ She shook her head, resting it against his chest and he felt his entire body heat up as he held her to him firmly, determined that no one would ever take her away again. ‘Okay, then here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to go back to my place, you’re going to borrow some clothes and we’re going to order dinner-‘

‘No, you have things to do, you’re working here, I can’t-‘

‘No, I can’t! I can’t leave you like this, and I won’t, I will take care of you…you’re mine Princess.’ She looked up at him shocked and he tried his best to convey how hard it’s been without seeing her for the last 14 years. ‘I let them take you from me once, I won’t do it again now that I’ve found you…don’t make me let you go back to a dorm all alone…I won’t do it Y/n.’ She nodded her head quickly, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.

‘I missed you so much Aemond, if you’re sure you’re not too busy-‘

‘I will never be too busy for you. My weekend is yours, come on.’ He helped her stand up but didn’t let go of her, keeping his arm around her waist as he took her bag and led her down to the parking lot where his car is waiting. Aemond opened the door and lifted her into the car, hearing her gasp as he man handled her in, not once complaining about it. The drive was quick back to his home, it was an apartment in a high rise building and he loved watching her eyes slowly widen as she watched the numbers on the elevator go up and up, all the way to the top.

‘You have a penthouse apartment?’ He nodded, smirking down at her and she shoved him playfully.

‘Surely you can’t forget how we live Y/n, you think my father would let me stay anywhere else. Even if I am the least favorite, he insists on a certain condition of living for his family…he would be appalled by your state by the way, and I’m sure once I tell him he will be fixing it-‘

‘What are you talking about? I’m already in a single dorm, I have everything I-‘

‘You shouldn’t be living in a dorm room with God knows how many other women all sharing a bathroom, you’re basically family-‘

‘But I’m not.’ She cut him off and he looked at her startled as he opened the door. ‘Look at this place Aemond! It’s an apartment and I could never afford something like this! I love that you think of me as a sister and your parents think of me like an honorary child but I’m not, I am a peasant compared to you and that will never change, we live in 2 different worlds Aemond.’ He stared at her, trying to calm himself before opening his mouth.

‘You loved being a part of our family…you never judged me for how I lived before-‘

‘I’m not judging you-‘

‘But you are! I don’t like the idea that you think we’re in 2 different worlds, because I never want to exist in a world where you are not beside me, you will never live like that again, not now that I’ve found you. And the fact that you think I ever thought of you like a sister…well it’s just disgusting.’ He explained, leaning down and brushing his lips against hers as lightly as possible before moving to the kitchen, putting her bag on the couch. ‘Now, what would you like for dinner? Are you still a pizza girl, or would you like Chinese? We can get burgers too.’ He offered, pulling out a burger place menu, knowing that’s what she would pick and she quickly did, her whole face red in a heavy blush.

They ordered dinner and Aemond had a man go and pick it up for them while they chose a scary movie to watch. Aemond had loaned her one of his Henley’s before getting her a pair of his boxers from the drawer and letting her change, throwing her clothes into the wash and not being able to stop the creepy stalker inside of him from smelling her panties before putting them in. He had to stop himself from jumping her the second he walked back into the room, seeing his Princess wearing his clothes and sitting in his bed clearly waiting for him.

He set the food down, handing her her chocolate milkshake before stripping to his boxers and climbing into the bed beside her. He saw her try to hide her reddening cheeks as she looked at him, staring at his muscular chest before tearing her eyes away. It wasn’t until he noticed her rubbing her legs together that he felt his cock begin to twitch. She was just as effected by him as he was by her and he was going to have her!

They talked through the movie while eating, getting to know each other, mostly her getting to know him but he asked questions to things he knows the answers to but shouldn’t, and he loved that no matter how personal, she never once lied to him about anything. After all this time she still felt completely comfortable with him.

‘Oh! Mother will be so excited to see you! Come here!’ He held up his phone and pulled her to him, taking a picture of them quickly with her back to his chest as his arm wrapped across her shoulder and torso, his face nuzzled against her hair. It smelled like mangos and pomegranates, everything about her was just perfect.

‘Wait! You’re shirtless! She’s gonna think-‘

‘What?’ He asked, smirking down at her, humor written all over his face as he waited for her to say it. ‘What is she going to think, Princess?’

‘Nothing, never mind.’ She rolled her eyes, leaning against him as the movie finished, Aemond now laying down on the pillows with her head on his chest as if they were children at a sleepover once again.

‘I really did miss you Y/n…there wasn’t one day that I didn’t think about you.’ He willed his cock to stop twitching as she traced her finger around his stomach.

‘I missed you too, I never forgot about you Aemond. You know, I often wondered how someone who had been in my life for such little time could be such a big part of it but you were…you are. I never stopped loving you.’ He took hold of her chin, turning her head to face him and traced her bottom lip with his thumb lightly.

‘I am never leaving you again…tell me you’re mine.’ She gasped quietly, hesitating only a moment before nodding. ‘I know you want me…tell me you’re mine Y/n…tell me.’

‘I’m yours-‘ He cut her off instantly, lips crashing to hers hard and pulling her against his chest firmly. One arm held her waist firmly while his other hand buried his fingers into her hair. He licked her bottom lip, his tongue instantly exploring her mouth as she parted them, sucking her tongue between his lips and making her giggle. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling the hair tie out and tugging it firmly prompting him to bite down on her lip roughly making her squeal.

‘Such fun noises you make, you’ve no idea how long I’ve wondered what you would sound like for me!’ He rolled on top of her, hauling her legs up around his waist and grinding his crotch against her.

‘Oh! Oh Fuck Aemond! Feels so good!’ She whined as he ground his hard cock down against her.

‘You have no idea Princess, I’m going to make you see stars.’ He swore, grabbing ahold of the bottom of his shirt and pulling it up and off of her. ‘So fucking perfect baby, perfect fucking tits!’ His lips wrapped around her rosy nipple, sucking hard and chuckling when her back arched up into him as he did this. He switched tits, pulling her hardened peak between his teeth teasingly before beginning to kiss and suck his way down her stomach, fingers catching on her boxers and pulling them down, throwing them off to the side of the bed. He took a pause, leaning back and looking down at her…Finally seeing his girl on his bed laid out for him…nothing could be sweeter. She closed her legs awkwardly, unsure why he stopped but he quickly caught them, yanking them apart again roughly. ‘No you don’t gorgeous! You’re mine, all mine. I’m allowed to look at what’s mine. All fucking mine.’ He growled, leaning back down and shoving his face between her legs, tasting her for the first time. Aemond lifted her legs onto his shoulders, sucking on her clit and grinning as he heard her loud, needy cries.

‘Fuck, yes! Please? Please Aemond, don’t stop?!’ Stop? Stop? What is Stop? He couldn’t define that word right now, it didn’t fucking exist to him as he flattened his tongue and traced it down to her hole, pushing into her and moaning at how tight his little cunt was for him. He peeked up at her as he began fucking into her with his tongue, his nose brushing against her clit and making her squeal. ‘Oh God!’

‘No!’ He cut her off, fingers rubbing hard at her clit as he looks up at her and she tries to pull away from the almost painful attention on her body. ‘Tonight, I am your God. Do you understand me? Tonight you pray to me while I worship this body. Yes?’

‘Yes! YES! Please God, Please?!’ She sobbed, tears falling from her eyes now as she teetered on the edge, so close and needing one last push.

‘Yes Princess.’ He moaned, pushing his long fingers into her and shoving her over that edge just as she needed, watching her face contort in ecstasy as she came, hips lifting off of the bed as she screamed.

‘Fuck Aemond!’

‘There’s my good girl! Cumming so good for me.’ He kissed his way back up her body, removing his boxers as he did and leaning against her, taking his thick cock in his hand and preparing to push himself into her. ‘How do you feel baby?’ She just moaned, nodding her head and pulling him down to kiss her and as she did he pressed his cock against her hole, driving his hips home and finding her cute little squeal completely adorable. ‘So good!’ Aemond groaned, pulling out and pushing into her again. ‘So fucking tight on me, aren’t you?’ She nodded, her mouth hanging open as if screaming but no sound was coming out. ‘Yes you are, so good to me, this little pussy loves my cock so much, feel how she’s pulsing around me? She knows my cock is the only one that can make you feel like this. The only one that ever will again.’ He had picked up his pace and was now slamming into her over and over again. ‘You’re mine now Princess, all mine! Mine to care for, mine to love, mine to fuck! Isn’t that right?’

‘Yes! Yes Aemond! All yours! Please, please never stop! Oh Fuck!’

‘No need to beg Baby.’ Tears were now leaking down her cheeks and he knew he had her just where he wanted her. He could get her to agree to anything he’d like. He felt her cunt tighten around him and watched her eyes roll up as she came around his cock, squeezing so good he could make a case for why this wasn’t Earth anymore but Heaven that they were tethered to. His thumb found her clit as he sat back, thrusting into her at a rapid pace and feeling his end approaching quickly, throwing her into another orgasm before allowing himself to finish, burying his cock inside of her as deeply as he could and filling her up. ‘That’s it. Good Girl, taking all of me so good. I’m gonna take you home, back to where you belong with our family. No more school you don’t want to be in, no more grandparents you despise, just you and me and all of the babies that I’m going to fill this body with. How does that sound?’ Y/n’s responding moan was answer enough for him, whether it was meant to be or not. ‘All mine now Princess…all mine.’

Aemond T. Masterlist

Stalker Aemond Moodboard

[magniloquent-raven]

I'm getting distracted from my current projects by someone else's post again someone tell me to stop going on tumblr while I have WIPs lmfao

@rosetterer this isn't EXACTLY what you posted about but it does get there in the end

**

Twenty-four hours has never seemed like such an insurmountably long time.

Buck's had long shifts before, the boring ones when he'd stare at the alarms on the wall, willing them to go off—he can picture Maddie's disappointed scowl if she ever found out about that, but he swears he was only hoping for something small and harmless to break up the monotony—and the busy ones. Ones that leave his ears ringing with phantom sirens by the end. Those days only ever seem long in retrospect, when he's bone-tired and trying to remember all the names he asked for.

But now every shift seems to find new and shittier ways to be gruelling. Eddie's miserable and trying to act like he isn't. There's this weird, uncomfortable tension brewing between Hen and Chim. Ravi got himself transferred to B shift—probably to get away from Gerrard, and Buck can't exactly blame him, but he sort of does anyway and their new probie is terrible, and... then there's Gerrard.

Like, Buck already knew he was a piece of work, but. Knowing and experiencing are two very different things. He could barely stand keeping his mouth shut at the medal ceremony when he met the man for five seconds, and now he has to put up with him making smug, belittling comments towards all his friends, all the time. Constantly needing to remind himself he doesn't want to get fired is actually killing him.

It doesn't help that every so often he'll remember Tommy's offhand Captain Gerrard was like having the dad I already had, with a pang as he wonders what exactly Tommy grew up with. What parts of Gerrard's condescending tyranny were familiar to him. Phillip Buckley may not have been father of the year, but maybe never being looked directly at was better than being raised neck deep in toxic waste.

Every time he remembers he gets the urge to pull out his phone and call Tommy up just to... he doesn't even know. Just to hear his voice, maybe. Know if he's doing okay.

Another reason work days seem so long now, if he's being honest. He's always counting down the hours until he can see Tommy again. Like a kid on the last day of school, watching the clock tick closer and closer to summer vacation.

So, of course, right near the end of a particularly busy shift, Gerrard gets them all lined up for a lecture about how sloppy that last save was. Everyone did something wrong, and everyone needs to hear about all the ways they could have gotten someone killed, like they don't all know how risky the job is already.

By the time he's finished telling Chim it's a miracle he managed to convince anyone to let him out on calls, Buck is clenching his jaw hard enough to make his teeth ache.

"I'm sure Captain Soft-Touch loved telling you all it was okay to be mediocre, and that you were trying your best," Gerrard sneers at them all, waving a dismissive hand at very idea of Bobby's captaincy. "But the coddling ended when he retired. Sparing your feelings is going to get people killed. Diaz!" He shouts, abrupt, turning on his heel towards Eddie. Eddie doesn't flinch, but Buck does.

"Yes, sir?" He's coolly polite, and his face is carefully blank, but his posture is tense.

"If I ever catch you checking your phone at a scene again, I'll make sure you're mopping floors for the rest of your life."

Eddie's expression hardens. It was a fender-bender and Eddie didn't even touch his phone until everyone was accounted for and packed into the ambulance. "It was a text from my son. Sir." His tone veers a little to the left of polite.

"I don't care if it was from the goddamn Pope, when you're in the field your focus stays on scene. Next time your brat needs something tell him to go cry to his mother about it."

This time when Buck flinches, everyone else in line does too. Hen bites down on a grimace. Chim hisses quietly through his teeth.

"I can't do that," Eddie says flatly. "What with her being dead and all."

The firehouse is silent for a long, horrible moment. That might've taken the wind out of any decent person's sails, Buck thinks. At the very least most people would've retreated into awkwardness and ended the lecture entirely.

Gerrard's brow pinches angrily. "Don't get smart with me, Diaz."

Buck's not sure it's possible to hate someone more than he hates their new captain right now.

"I don't care about your little sob story excuses, I care that you're sloppy and distracted. If you can't handle the job and the kid, drop one of them."

Oh, he was wrong.

He hates this man so much he's choking on it, it's clogging his throat like bile and he's running out of strength to care that he shouldn't spit it out, spew it everywhere and ruin everything just for the chance of hurting this man in the process. He feels like his skin is bursting at the seams.

Eddie's biting the inside of his cheek, rage and sorrow warring silently on his face.

And Buck breaks. Bursts. "Hey, Captain, that's—"

"Can it, Buckley," Gerrard cuts him off before he can even start. It's not angry, it's not anything, he brushes Buck off like he's an annoying fly buzzing in his ear, barely worth glancing at for the two seconds it takes to tell him he doesn't care. "You're all dismissed. Get out of my sight."

Some of them flee, scurrying to their lockers, the kitchen, anywhere but here. A couple of people throw backwards glances before they walk away. Hen and Chim exchange grim looks. Eddie disappears out the back door in an angry haze. And Buck...

Buck feels. Empty. Small. Like he cut himself open trying to relieve the pressure and now there's just nothing left. No one to patch up the wound, and no reason for any of it, he didn't make an impact, he didn't help anyone, he stood there listening to his friends get degraded, and now—now he's feeling sorry for himself?

It's stupid. He's stupid. He feels like shit because, what, because he didn't get yelled at? Because his piece of shit captain took a break from implying he's a disgusting pervert?

He thinks himself in circles about it his whole way home, the pit in his stomach getting a little deeper every time he tries to will it away.

He's wallowed himself halfway through a six-pack, staring sightlessly at his TV, by the time his front door opens.

"Evan?"

One of the knots in his chest loosens. "Yeah," he calls out, not bothering to sound less pathetic than he is. "In here."

"Hey." Tommy's stopped next to the stairs, eyeing him. His gaze is assessing, but his tone is soft. He's always so careful with Buck. "Bad day?"

Buck takes another sip of his beer. Shrugs.

"Ah, one of those."

The couch cushions dip as Tommy takes a seat next to him. He's close enough that Buck doesn't have to look at him to know he's there. There's warmth radiating off him. The woodsy scent of his aftershave. Buck presses their knees together, and exhales properly for the first time in hours.

He knows he could talk about whatever he wants and Tommy would let him. He's waiting for Buck to take the lead here. Buck could avoid the issue entirely and decide to talk about anything. The fact that he can't really tell the difference between the fancy beer Tommy insists is better than the crap Buck's drinking right now. The documentary about bees he's pretending to watch. The goddamn weather.

What comes out of his mouth is a quiet, "I feel like an idiot."

Tommy pulls the beer bottle out of Buck's loose grip, puts it down next to the couch, and then takes Buck's hand in both of his. "Why?"

Buck scrubs at his eyes. "I..." He catalogues the tiny scars on Tommy's knuckles. Two, three, little dots on his index finger. A lopsided vee on his thumb. "Something happened at work."

"Did Gerrard say something to you?" There's an edge to Tommy's question, something sharp and flinty. It makes Buck's heart do dumb little somersaults.

"No." He stops, shame burning his cheeks. "Not. Not to me. That's... He was lecturing everybody, and I..."

"Evan." Tommy grips his chin, firmly, gently, guiding Buck's face until he looks him in the eye. There's a sympathetic twist to his mouth. "Tell me."

He does. As best he can when it feels like what's didn't happen is more important, and he can barely put into words why that is. But trying helps, a little. Trying to whittle it down into an explanation forces him to look at the whole of it, and realize it's not looming over him anymore.

Maybe it's just Tommy's hands on him, soothing the hurt away.

"I dunno. Feels like I could have done something differently, maybe"

Tommy hums, tilting his head in acknowledgement. "You could've."

Buck winces.

"But it wouldn't have turned out any better."

Oh.

A flower blooms on the TV, purple and white petals reaching for the sun. Buck toys with Tommy's fingers, and shifts his leg closer, hooking their ankles together.

"It felt so shitty," he mutters.

"I know."

He would, wouldn't he. Buck gets that pang in his chest again, and he pushes the rest of the way into Tommy's space. Tommy wraps his arms around him, and drops a kiss into his curls, seemingly content to let Buck situate himself however he wants.

He kind of wishes Tommy wasn't still wearing jeans, but asking him to take his pants off might send the wrong message.

"You don't think I'm, like...a bad friend, right?" He cringes his way through the question.

"No." Tommy responds matter-of-factly and without hesitation. Then the corner of his mouth twitches. "I think you're a very good boy."

Buck's entire head feels like it's on fire. A grin starts to creep across his face. It might be the first time he's smiled all day. "Oh, yeah?"

"Mhm."

Maybe he should ask Tommy to take his jeans off after all.

[savannahsdeath]

Can we get something where Ellie is injured and when reader takes care of her she feels embarrassed bc she doesn't want to seem weak. But then she like starts crying about "not being strong enough" and just have some cute fluff from reader <33

AHHHZHSBHX i love writing fluff sm like its so comforting !!

ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

warnings: minors safe i think?? blood, crying

writers note: its kinda short n all but omghauzb i love ellie sm i need to give her a biiiiggg hug and just never let go like😓🩷my poor baby:(

you intensively listened to the sharp ticking of the clock, waiting for something that'd break the cycle. for someone, actually. for your precious girlfriend ellie, which had a patrol somewhere around jackson. you stayed quiet, listening intently for any signs of her. the sounds of the clock in the background seemed to taunt you, like a reminder of how much time was passing and you had to wait even longer to hear news from her.

it was something about midnight when she finally came knocking on the door, completely soaked in freezing rain. her hair was wet, her face drenched, she looked miserable. you rushed to get a towel to help her dry her hair and body.

when you were done you wrapped your hands around her. she hissed and you instantly pulled away, giving her a pout of pure worry and concern. your eyes inspected her body, without effect. your hands reached out for her top, wanting to take it off and look for any injuries, but she firmly gripped your wrists.

"babe, stop." she said, and maybe you'd listen to her, if her voice didn't sound like begging. and if she begged, she was hiding something.

you freed your hands and rolled her shirt up, revealing a nasty wound on her side. it looked like bullet scratch and it was a miracle - a few millimeters to the left and the shot would pierce her waist.

ellie mumbled a quiet 'fuck...' as her attempt to hide it from you failed. she did her best to look unfazed and pretend to not be in pain, knowing it'd only add to the embarrassment.

ellie sighed and pulled your hands away from the wound, pushing you back. she took a deep breath, the pain evident on her face, and rolled her shirt back down.

"it's fine, i'm fine." she falsely reassured, her shaky voice betraying her attempt to sound tough. she forced a weak smile, trying to play down your worries, but you could tell she wasn't okay.

"ellie, you're bleeding!" you shook your head, your eyes darting back and forth from her wound and her face.

you dragged her to the bedroom, taking a first aid kit from the bathroom on the way. she stayed silent as you softly but forcefully sat her on the bed and started preparing everything.

"this will... sting a bit." you warned her before looking at the disinfectant. you knew it'll do way more than just 'sting a bit'.

ellie avoided looking at you, hating how vulnerable the whole situation makes her feel. she gritted her teeth as you started cleaning the wound, trying to maintain her composure as best as she could. you could hear her breathing get heavier as the pain began to set in, but she was too proud to let you see her cry.

as you continued to work, she looked away from you, ashamed that you had to fix her mistakes. she knew she should have been more careful and hated how weak she appeared in front of you.

"i'm sorry for making you do this." she murmured, her voice barely audible.

ellie sucked in a sharp breath and clenched the sheets as you applied the disinfectant. a wave of pain washed over her, but she managed to stay silent and hold back a scream.

you finished cleaning the wound and began to bandage it, being careful not to hurt her any further. as you worked, you heard ellie sniffle as she struggled to hold back her emotions. you looked up and saw that ellie is watching you with a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment. her eyes were glistening with unshed tears and she was biting her lip to hold back a wail of agony and relief.

"thank you..." she whispered, her voice breaking.

"don't mention it." you said, your eyes full of sympathy for your suffering girlfriend. you gave her a reassuring smile, best you could manage as her pain hurt you too.

ellie took a deep breath, trying to compose herself as the pain subsided, but she couldn't hold back her tears any longer. she buried her face in her hands as she sobbed bitterly, her whole body shaking with emotion.

you gently wrapped her in a hug, holding her tight to give her some comfort. you whispered reassuring words in her ear, trying to calm her down.

"it's alright- sh, shhh..." you stroked her hair in an attempt to provide some solace. "i'll always be here for you, love."

her arms desperately seeked for support in your body, as her tears slowly dropped and soaked into your shirt.

"how can i keep you safe if i can't even take care of myself?" she mumbled, her voice muffled as her face was pressed against your chest.

you continued to hold ellie in your arms, trying to provide her with the comfort and reassurance she needed.

"you're always taking care of me, and now it's my turn to take care of you." you whispered, gently stroking her hair.

ellie looks up at you, her eyes full of gratitude. you feel her embrace tighten as she clings to you for support.

"my strong, amazing els." you smile, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead.

you held ellie for what seemed like an eternity, neither of you wanting to let go anytime soon. as you continued to cradle her in your arms, you could feel her warm tears running down your chest, now even beneath your shirt.

you felt her begin to calm down, her sobs easing up and her grip on you gradually loosening. suddenly, she pressed her body against you even tighter, almost like she was afraid of losing you after you've provided her with such comfort.

"i love you." she whispered, burying her head in your chest.

you continued gently stroking ellie's hair, unable to stop smiling at her confession.

"i love you too." you whispered back, as if you just shared a really important secret with her, hugging her tightly.

you felt her relax, her body going limp as she nestled into your chest. it felt like time has stopped, and the two of you together in the moment was all that mattered.

you pressed your forehead against ellie's, looking deep into her green eyes.

"always, forever." you added, before sharing your first kiss in a long while.

[monkebearness]

More Than a Chance Encounter

Ji Suhyeon (tripleS JiYeon) x Male Reader

Tags: fluff, angst, romance

Word count: 9.2k

a/n: no smut yet, the first one really took a while to finish XD. however, a new one is in the works. for now, I hope you like this, if you are into this genre, at least.

The holiday season in one of the biggest malls in Seoul has made it crowded, as the year comes to a close in a couple of months. It still isn't as urgent and traditional like they do in America, but it's still a lot for Korea’s standards. Despite labels and posters of cheaper prices being stacked on a plethora of products, most of the supermarket is filled with the loud hum of the air conditioner as well as the movements of automaton couriers rushing in and out of the place. Nowadays, most people tend to visit to get some not so fresh nor natural, but nevertheless refreshing wind and spend time with their loved ones through various forms of recreation, entertainment, and the last reason: purchasing necessities for their families and friends. Necessities that are also known as gifts and groceries.

“How do I even use this..?” he whispers to himself, pressing all the buttons he can on the screen of the kiosk, only to end up in the same error popping up with an irritating sound that irritates even the folks behind him.

Self-checkouts at supermarkets are no longer the future because now, they’re the norm, here in the present. And yet a lot of customers are still stuck to the past, but reasonably so. Certain machines are not as simple as one would think, since these models are still new to the public, some of whom aren’t tech-savvy. This man in a suit just happens to fall into this case of generational dilemma. It’s a miracle he doesn’t even freak out yet.

“Ahjussi!” a voice roars from the end of the line. “We don’t have all night. Hurry up.”

But some would still take the advantage to shop in person during the holidays since, in most cases, it’s simply faster for people who visit after school or work. And as more and more users shop online, face-to-face customers take the advantage to buy in person just the same, especially when the couriers are taking a little longer than they want.

“Look, I’m trying to figure this thing out,” he mumbles as loud as he can. The longer he’s standing there with no solutions, the more he can feel the moisture accumulating on his scalp and realize how his fingers start to shiver under pressure. “I, um, I don’t think this thing is working. Does someone know how to fix this?”

“Maybe you broke it, old man,” another voice yells. “You should’ve just ordered online, so we didn’t have to deal with your mess!”

He can only sigh at the mockeries fired at him, but his patience remains high. Thankfully, karma finds its way to the heckler at the back, as the guard approaches and warns the pair to stop their impolite behavior. With the voice finally simmering down, the man in the suit is making some progress with the kiosk, but his ears catch footsteps getting louder and louder by the second. Clenching his fists in unease, he braces for whoever else may give him an earful.

“If I may, ahjussi…” He hears another voice from behind, now a calmer and feminine one. For some reason, his levels of anxiety begin to drop. “Let me help you with that.”

About six centimeters shorter than him, the woman’s ethereal appearance and attentive presence stuns him, prompting the man to step aside and let her deal with his problem. Despite being the very person behind him in the whole line, he didn't even notice her, since all his mind was focusing on was sorting out the kiosk by himself until he himself would have inevitably broken down due to the hecklers constantly mocking him. What surprises him is that she’s not in a uniform, yet she's able to fix his problem within half a minute, making him wonder whether or not she’s somehow from the staff.

“It’s not your fault,” she mumbles while he watches her from the side. “These kiosks are new. All you need to do is select the settings, change the method and—there! All your items are now totaled.”

He lets out a sigh of relief. “That’s really good to know. Kamsahamnida, Miss.”

She bows in response, while he hurries transferring his groceries into his shopping bag. Afterwards, the man would have gone on with his own business, but this encounter was different for him, aside from the fact that he rarely asked or received anyone’s help until the machine broke. His own machismo isn’t gonna let him be without trying to offer his assistance to the woman when she also finished her checkout a couple of minutes later. He sees her walk in his direction. “I’m sorry if I’m being a bother again, but let me help you with that too. If it’s fine with you.”

“Oh… Kamsahamnida.” Despite being taken aback by his action, she bows to him before leading the way throughout the market’s exit, where they are welcomed by the full moon in the sky. He carries three stuffed eco bags—two on the left and one on the right—while the woman carries a lighter one. She would often take a few glances at him out of concern, though he tries to reassure her with a few nods and a meager smile. A thought on her mind pushes her to help him by calling an auto-cart inside, but they’re already far from the store.

He can’t help but take a few peeks inside her bag as they stroll along the lane. While he isn’t able to see the items clearly, curiosity has already gotten the best of him. “You got a lot of stuff there. Do you mind if I ask what the occasion is? Christmas is still a couple of weeks away.”

“They’re for a family gathering.”

“Oh, mine too! I mean, it’s not unexpected, but I believe folks rarely buy stuff this early before Christmas. Let alone in person.”

“That’s true, but I’d rather not risk having delayed deliveries, considering the digital traffic… Or you know, missing some important ingredients for your recipes.”

“That’s a fair point,” he slowly nods.

“And you…” She takes a longer gaze at his eco bag. “You don’t have as much… Though it still looks heavy. Probably heavier than mine. I could’ve called an auto-cart back inside.”

“No, it’s fine,” he keeps insisting with a chuckle. “Gwenchana, seriously. I’ve carried heavier loads of paperwork than these in the past couple of years.”

“Arasseoyo, Mister Muscle,” the woman shoots back. Her raised eyebrow expresses intrigue and amusement, even if she can tell that he’s just trying to impress her to a degree, and realizing it makes her let out a chortle as they walk to the bus terminal.

He tries to continue the conversation, or at least keep babbling on from the top of his mind as they finally arrive at the lane. The only thing is—they just missed the last bus. The next ride won’t arrive for a while, unless they walk to another stop. But considering their distance to the nearest one—as well as their goods being quite a handful, neither of them seems to have the intention of doing just that.

A topic finally pops up in his mind, still driven by his curiosity about her minutes earlier. “Do you remember when those counters were still filled with cashiers? It must’ve been a kind of culture shock, finding out that we’re gonna have to check out our own groceries all by ourselves, unless we order online.” 

“Yeah, I remember it clearly,” she admits with a more or less indifferent tone. “It hasn't been that long since they finally got rid of the last batch…” But the more her words come out, he senses jadedness and discouragement in her voice, despite saying a lot. “It sucks to see them leave, but what are you gonna do?” She sighs, much to his worry, even if he doesn’t know what her problem is about. “The company’s too afraid of falling behind.”

His mind compels him to do something, hoping to cheer her or lighten up the mood. “You must’ve frequented here often to know all of that… You even know how to fix a kiosk and you’re also worried about the cashiers. Are you the manager of the store?”

She keeps herself from scoffing at his genuine amazement, and the fact that he’s still basically glazing her for her mere act of assistance. “Um, no. Not as a manager, but I used to work here… As a cashier.”

“Oh…” Fuck is the first word that darts through his brain, followed by shit and crap. Immediate guilt and regret strike through his heart, believing that he’s offended her with his words. Why didn’t I think of it before? “I didn’t mean to phrase it like that. Joesonghamnida.”

“Oh, no, no!” she waves her hands in a slight panic while he starts to bow to her. “Don’t apologize. I wasn’t offended, and I understand your point, but I still work here. It’s just not my shift tonight.”

“You’re still working here?” he wonders, confused yet just as curious about the wave of conflicting info he has learned. “But I thought the cashiers had been discharged in this supermarket since last year… That’s why I thought you’d be a manager or something.”

“Most of us were,” she nods. “But some of us were lucky enough to stay here and were reassigned to other roles. I’m just a kiosk specialist now—which is just a much fancier way of saying that I’m a technician.”

They both chuckle at her remark. “I don’t see anything wrong with that,” he considers. “I think you have more experience than some folks in corpo nowadays. I think it’s always a plus when you learn things hands-on.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” she slowly nods. “Though, I don’t believe I know more than those with desk jobs. But, I do think we have as much experience when working with people.”

“Now that you’ve brought it up, people aren’t as many here compared to back then. It’s always been more convenient to shop online in the past decade. I just really think it is a bummer that a lot of workers have to be fired because our means of living have become easier now, no thanks to those bots.”

“It’s true, but I wouldn’t entirely see everything as negative,” she retorts. “As much as you’re right, there’s new jobs out there. Ones where we can start using our brains and bodies more often. Act more like a human for once, you know?”

He sees her somber smile as they lock eyes. The smile doesn’t appear to be forced, but rather wistful. Perhaps he’s been complimenting her way too much, and it’s starting to come off as annoying. Maybe she’s going through something or has been through a lot, but that’s not in his right to know, since they’ve only met. “Based on that, I’m guessing you don’t love your job. I don’t know how else to say it, since I’m just a stranger… But I hope you hang in there.”

She tilts her head while her lips pout. “Love? Hate? Hmm… I haven’t used those words to describe my jobs. Not in a while... I just know how to adapt and get used to whatever job or gig I can get by. But now that you mentioned it, I do love gaining more and more experience, just as I hate dealing with cranky customers, like that heckler from earlier.”

“But, umm,” she adds, feeling a glimmer of sincerity with what he just said. “Thanks for saying that. As a ‘fellow stranger’ myself, I appreciate it. I hope you hang in there, too.”

Amidst the winter breeze, the woman brings out a scarf from her bag and wraps it around her neck, before rubbing her hands and blowing into it. Her gestures give him an idea, which may or may not work, but that’s the least of his worries. He still feels a sense of debt and gratitude for her after she helped him out earlier—no matter how trivial it is. Perhaps due to the fact that she just happens to be beautiful and polite, maybe there is something else that he’s feeling, but he brushes it off. He doesn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable more than the frightening possibility that she already is, being with him.

“Hey, uhh… I think the next bus won’t be here for a while,” he brings up. “Would you mind if we grab a cup of coffee or tea first? Anything you’d like, really. It’s my treat.”

The woman is touched by his sudden suggestion, yet her lingering sense of pride is making her feel hesitant to accept it. “Oh, that's too much. You don’t have to…”

“It’s the least I can do, since you helped me out at the counter,” he avows. “I would’ve given you my stamp coupon from a café I often visit, but I’ve used all of it. That is… If you’re not in the rush right now. I’m just suggesting, cause it’s getting colder out here and we might need a place to warm up for a bit.”

She laughs at his honest statement, not caring whether he’s joking or telling the truth. His somewhat awkward yet honest deliveries have fascinated her for a while now. If it was like any other stranger, she would’ve left or ticked them off moments ago, but she doesn't feel too tense around him. It's in a way, refreshing. Besides, it is up to her if she will regret meeting him at a later time or not. She’s a grown woman, and if he even does anything funny, there are people everywhere. For now, she doesn’t feel like she wants to ditch him. At least, he has yet to give her a fair reason. “It’s fine, but since you’re the one offering, perhaps a cup of hot chocolate will do for me, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, that’s perfect!” a hint of enthusiasm arises in his voice, astonished that she even went along with his improvised suggestion. “Where would you like to order?”

“Hmm… I think you should lead the way,” a smile forms on the woman’s face while placing an index finger on her chin, insinuating her anticipation. “Seems to me like you’re the café connoisseur.”

The man chortles at her compliment. “I just know quality drinks, that's for sure.”

“Though I do prefer if we go somewhere closer to here,” she requests. “Just in case we catch the next bus arriving.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” he hums. “I think I know just the place.”

He raises the three eco bags off the pavement with his care, although the woman assists him into carrying them properly. However, before she can follow his footsteps, she feels a buzzing in her pocket. Her eyes widened at the message she just received seconds ago.

“Joesonghamnida!” she suddenly bows to him in a fast sequence, her voice mirroring her rushed pace. “I got an urgent thing to do back home. But if you want, we can have coffee some other time.”

He didn’t expect her to say those latter words, but it gives him a sense of hope. That she didn’t misunderstood his intentions. But in a fit of internal panic, rummages his hands inside his messenger bag to find something. Within seconds, he pulls out a wrinkled small card at the same time the woman hails the nearest taxi cab on sight.

“Of course, of course… It’s okay! Here's my call card,” he hands it over. “Just call me up through that number and, umm, we can meet up wherever you like.”

The woman keeps the card inside her eco bag just in time as the cab stops in front of the sidewalk. Opening the backseat door for her, the man helps her get two of her shopping bags in the middle of the seat. Once everything has been sorted out, she turns to look at him—both in relief and guilt—and bows to him once more. “Kamsahamnida, ahjussi... And, uhh, Merry Christmas.”

After she heads inside the vehicle, he sees the taxi leave the mall grounds, heading into a lane of the greater concrete sea and finding a spot among the fellow school of headlights.

“I don't know what just happened,” he whispers to himself, as he sees a pair of bigger headlights approaching from a distance. As it gets closer, more and more people, most of whom are also packed with tons of holiday goods in their arms, behind him start gathering in a line. “I just hope I didn't ruin her night.”

= = =

It's been a few weeks since New Year’s passed. He hasn’t received any calls from her, but he never realized it. After spending time with his family at home, he gets back to slaving away at work through meetings with the higher-ups and on-the-spot presentations. It is still the second week of January, yet everything becomes a blur when it comes to going through his routine. Things repeat in a cycle of the mundane. That has always been the case for him, until he receives a text from an unknown number during his lunch break.

[Unknown]: Annyeonghaseyo, ahjussi. Is this Young Sungwoo?

He shakes his head. His eyes can’t believe it, but the messages keep on being sent.

[Unknown]: I don’t know if you still remember me, but this is the lady from the supermarket.

I’m really sorry for leaving out of the sudden.

I had an emergency back at home.

Whenever you’re free, would you like to have that hot chocolate you promised?

Why is she still texting me? is the first instinctive question that pops up in his mind, followed by Is this a scam?, How is this possible?, The text sounds like her, but why is she apologizing when I’m the one who kept pestering her?, This cannot be happening, among many other thoughts clashing together as the unexpected situation leaves him in a state of analysis paralysis. That's until he takes another look at her last message. The hot chocolate. Of course! How can it not be her?

Assured by the texter's identity, he spends the remainder of his break, thinking of the words to text her back before getting back to his desk, perhaps with perhaps even more effort than most of his recent individual presentations at work since returning to work.

{{Annyeonghaseyo, Miss! Yes, this is Young Sungwoo.}}

{{Gwenchanayo. I don’t mind. I do hope everything’s okay.}}

{{I’m only available after work or during the weekend.}}

{{But I can adjust my schedule if you want to meet on those days.}}

[Unknown]: If you’re free today, then I was thinking later.

Since it’s Friday, you know?

Is that possible for you?

{{That’d be great.}}

{{Do you have a place in mind?}}

The café happens to be about eight minutes walk from his work, surprisingly enough. Entering inside, he sees her at one of the fifteen tables, almost half of which is seated with other customers. As their eyes meet, she waves at him.

“Annyeonghaseyo,” she greets him with a low respectful bow, which he reciprocates before taking the seat in front of her.

“I thought this would be a nice place for us to meet since I saw your company address.”

His mouth gapes, understanding her intention. “So that’s why this place is near our building! But, uhh… I hope I didn’t make you take a long ride.”

“It’s okay, ahjussi!” She raises her hand. “My place isn't that far from here either.”

“Please, don’t call me ahjussi,” he requests with a sheepish tone, raising his tone a little. “I’m not old. I just turned thirty.”

“Well, I’m not that old,” he adds in embarrassment. The man’s lowered voice makes her giggle. “Now that I’ve basically outed my age to almost everyone here, I guess I do count as an ahjussi… But I hope that doesn't make you uncomfortable.”

“Not at all,” she reassures. “Our ages are not that far after all… I’m actually twenty-six.” She then leans into him a little closer, curious at his own misgivings. “And by the way, I don’t even think you look old. You look just about our age… Even if you are an ahjussi, I wouldn’t mind lessening formalities between us.”

“Thanks.” He takes a sip of his cup. “Those hecklers at the market must’ve gotten to me.”

“They do look like they’re on the younger side,” she considers. “Kids these days, huh?”

“That’s true… But I don’t know how exactly their parents raised them, so I don’t think it’s worth holding any grudges against them. A bad day can get anyone riled up.”

His answer intrigues her. It may sound like a little lecture, but his answers resonate with her. “That’s, umm... Quite mature of you. You ever dealt with people like those at work?”

“Pretty much,” he slowly nods with instinct. “It comes with the territory, but we’ve learned that there are much better ways of discipline than screaming at them. Our generation, I mean.”

“I agree.” Her head tilts while taking a glance at him with wonder. In her mind, there’s nothing witty or insightful left for her to add. But I don’t think that should excuse them for making a mistake. They gotta learn how to better themselves.” Except for one.

His face can’t help but form a smile. Now, he doesn’t have anything to add. “Well said.”

Despite them simply being strangers who have met up for drinks, this moment feels nice and calming for them, yet something is still missing. He slowly turns to her with caution. “I–uhh–I haven’t caught your name before.”

“Oh, right,” she mumbles, her eyes growing at his realization. “I told you my age, but not my name, haha. It’s Suhyeon. And by your call card, I can assume you’re Sungwoo?” Her eyes squint with suspicion in an attempt to tease him. “Unless that was your coworker’s name, which you used just to call me or something.”

He chortles at her remark, raising his hands for a second. “That is my name. No tricks.” Sungwoo keeps his right hand raised, signaling an attempt to shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Suhyeon.”

“I know, I’m just messing,” she shoots back, right before reciprocating his handshake with a welcoming smile. “And it’s nice meeting you, too, Young Sungwoo-ssi.”

Hoping to initiate their conversation this time, she tries to recall a few details from him since their previous encounter, as well as his card. “Wait, so you are from corpo right? I can’t believe you said I have more experience than the likes of you.”

He lets out a snicker. The fact that she even remembers that surprises him. “My opinion still stands. Some of my colleagues could be freeloaders whenever there’s team projects.”

She sighs just imagining some of his hardships. “That must be a chore to deal with.”

“It is at times, but like what you said, you just get used to it.” The silence is now his cue; it’s his turn to try and get to know a little more about his companion. “So, Suhyeon-ssi, what else do you do for a living, aside from being a kiosk specialist at the mall… since I remember you saying that you’re working from job to job.”

“Well, that was the case.” Her smile grows wider. “I stopped working at the mall about two weeks ago when a friend of mine recommended me to a new and more stable one.”

He puts down his now half empty cup on the table. “What’s your main job these days?”

“Starting from next week, I’m gonna be a company driver,” she informs him. “My friend works there, but I got hired through their interview and test drives.”

“I gotta say, you're quite amazing, Suhyeon-ssi. What can you not do?”

“You’ve been flattering me non-stop, Sungwoo-ssi,” she shakes her head with a snicker, before her hand instinctively reaches to the napkin box and wipes some of the stain off his sleeve. “You didn’t even notice that stain.” She looks up to see his lips, also stained with coffee foam. “And your lips—”

“Oh,” she stops just as the napkin touches his lips, realizing that her impulse has astounded him. “Joesonghaeyo.”

“No, it’s okay,” he tells her. “But I can handle it from here.” He takes the napkin from her hand, igniting a spark from her. “Thank you for noticing this. You got sharp eyes.”

“Must be a force of habit,” she quips, while avoiding eye contact with him. Her mind reflects on her unexpected, ceremonious gesture.

From that moment forward, the two would keep meeting on weekends for coffee and hot chocolate, finding the most mundane yet meaningful things to talk about inside the café. It doesn’t always happen, but when they both agree to meet up, they make the most of it. And whenever none are available, they start using their phones longer, whether through usual texts or calls, almost every weekend night. Through their sleepless hours, they get to know each other, exchanging fun facts about themselves & sharing jokes and memes. Even finding out about their favorite or least favorite things is enough to prolong their conversations from twelve midnight until two in the morning.

{{Sungwoo: Never was a fan of avocados.}} {{But I may consider trying out this recipe.}}

[Suhyeon]: Yah! Don’t just consider (╥﹏╥) I promise, you won’t regret it!

{{Sungwoo: Fine, I will try it out.}} {{Your ingredients on the hot pot were amazing, after all.}} {{My colleagues and I ended up gobbling them all down within an hour.}}

[Suhyeon]: You’re welcome! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

{{Sungwoo: And how about my recommendations? I gave you about a hundred dessert suggestions last time. I’m sure you would’ve tried some of them by now.}}

[Suhyeon]: Hmm… I’ll think about it. It was too many for me to remember a single one.

{{Sungwoo: (—_—)}} {{Not one dessert caught your attention?}} {{You didn’t even stop me when I was rambling.}}

[Suhyeon]: Of course, I’m kidding! I did try that coffee toffee ice cream with my buddies. For a store-bought dessert, it's top-tier, that’s for sure. Cheap one too. You really love anything coffee-related, don’t you?

{{Sungwoo: Well, it got me through college and now.}} {{What got you through those times?}}

Sometimes, it takes a longer time for her to reply. He would think she’s introspective about something that’s trivial and mundane, or that he said something insensitive or offensive to her. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought questions like those up, but she always has an answer. Even if they sometimes come off as dismissive or evasive, Suhyeon’s insight resonates with him, to a past that even he rarely calls back to.

[Suhyeon]: Oh, you know… My friends and family. I’m sorry if that sounded cliche, but you get my point, right? Getting through college wasn’t easy for me. For pretty much anyone else, really.

{{Sungwoo: No need to apologize, Suhyeon-ssi.}} {{You got a point there.}}

[Suhyeon]: But that’s way back in the past. I’m quite content with what I got now. For the most part.

{{Sungwoo: I couldn’t agree more.}}

However, both of them are well aware that both or either of these pale in comparison to their meetings in person. Nothing beats the real thing, as a lot would say. Aside from coffee and chocolate, they would start ordering other drinks for once, sometimes even snacks they can munch on after work while they rant or share their thoughts. They found their own little ecosystem within the café’s area. Most talks would last for thirty to forty minutes, sometimes an hour—if not a few minutes longer, if they can’t help it.

Though, it never usually lasts more than that. Suhyeon whines that her parents have a less strict curfew for her even in her mid-twenties, which raises his eyebrow—though he never bothered to ask for any elaboration. She’d do the same thing for him, though there seems to be no problem with him answering her questions like he’s an open book.

“How about you then?” Because of Sungwoo’s amiable views and easy-going demeanor, Suhyeon eventually returns his curiosity by asking him about his occupation more than the call card he gave her about last December. “You must’ve been a marketing manager at your company at this point. You’ve read a lot of trends from the palm of your hand.”

“That’s flattering… But I am not there yet,” he confesses, wearing a simper on his face. “I don’t think I’ll even get there in a while. While being a no-name marketing specialist has its ups, you gotta deal with the rest of your team or even suck up to the older higher ups just to convince them that your idea is worth pushing through. I even don’t have any other time or the privilege to spend on outside work, at least besides these hours.”

“Hmm… You’re not alone. My friends are way out of my league… One’s a gourmet chef. The other’s banker. The other two even got promoted to higher positions just recently!” she lets out a deep sigh. “Until now, I still question why they are still hanging out with me…. Why they’re even making time for me.”

He doesn’t know how else to feel but amazement. “They must be great friends. Just considering how highly you speak of them.”

“Oh, they are!” she exclaims with enthusiasm, only for it to dip down within seconds. “It’s just… Ugh. I don’t wanna admit it, but I feel like I’m just being a burden to them whenever I meet up with them outside.” She places each of her cheeks on her palms, slowly rubbing them up and down as she groans with lower spirits.

“Don’t think of it that way,” he insists. “You still have a lot ahead of you, and plus, you’re not alone. There is nothing burdensome about having close friends… They rely on you as much as you rely on them. Clearly, you all care for each other.”

His words slowly warms Suhyeon’s heart. “Seems like you have good friends yourself.”

“Had,” he retorts. “Most of my friends are just being slaves to our work like myself. Even some of them are staying at home, raising their children, like almost twenty-four seven.”

Her glassy eyes are filled with sympathy and consolation, making her turn her head away from him for a moment as she puffs. Sungwoo senses her vulnerable moment.

“Everyone has their reasons or excuses why they’re busy, I get that... Life just happens.”

What he said casts a gloom over her in the form of less pleasant memories resurfacing.

“Sungwoo-ssi,” she mutters, keeping her own voice from trembling. “I–uhh…”

“What is it, Suhyeon?”

“Nothing,” she clears her throat. “It’s just… What you said was really something. I hope your friends got to do whatever they wanted back then. Not everyone gets to reach their dreams the way they expected, you know?”

“That’s true, but even if that seems to be the case, life doesn't stop after your twenties. I mean, it shouldn’t!” he asserts as a hopeful smile forms on his face. “And that is coming from someone who just left that chapter.”

She turns to him, reading his face. “Sounds like you've had regrets in your twenties.”

“Well, I can't deny that…” He chuckles at her deduction, not out of mockery, but the fact she has read his expression too well. “But then again, don't we all have those at some point?”

The woman gulps at his rhetorical question, but her once facade of somber eyes flare up. Her left hand slowly squeezes her empty coffee cup until the rest of her fingers meet her thumb around it. Keeping his hands clasped under the table, Sungwoo’s peripherals can sense her pent-up emotions slowly breaking out through her actions, although he does not say anything about it. Despite his concern, he knows that she doesn’t have to open up if she’s not ready. Yet for Suhyeon, taking in his honest words cools her down—in a fashion that’s familiar to her. “Butterflies” would be a cliche of a word to describe it. She remembers all too well how she has used that word about someone else before, and how it ended up to where she is now. The good, the bad, and the ugly of it all.

“I’m sure you'll get to reach what dreams you want to do,” he looks at her with solace. “Even if you don't realize what they are just yet. I hope you don’t give up on it.”

She stares into the blank space, considering his words, even though most of her mind has always been discouraging her from imagining anything. Pipe dreams won't get us anywhere, she reminds herself. And why are you even here? This is the last place you should be. But turning to him once again, Suhyeon senses the last thing she’d expected to happen in a long time. Her heart slowly beating faster. You should stop meeting him. Looking down on the floor, the woman just realizes the moisture building up in her eyes.

As tears begin to pour down her face, Suhyeon looks at Sungwoo once again, seeing his hand holding a piece of napkin in front of her. While sniffling, she looks up to his face. He doesn’t say or ask anything, except for the words, “Are you alright?”

“I... uhh... I don't know... But thank you,” she mumbles. Taking the white cloth from his hand, she begins to feel a familiar rhythm within her. One that’s growing louder than the lo-fi music that’s playing on the speakers.

But amidst their moment of bliss, they watch a child entering the café door—standing with daze and confusion while everyone else also looks at her with curiosity, adoration, or concern. Sungwoo expects the nearby young cashier or anyone else to approach and calm her down, yet instead, a collected Suhyeon walks to the girl first with an amiable and sympathetic approach. He follows her, astonished at her initiative and attention, though his worry still lingers for her due to her own moment of vulnerability earlier.

“Hey, little girl,” she kneels on her level. “Are you alright? Why are you here alone?”

“I…” The girl’s voice cracks as she starts to break down in tears. “I don’t know where my eomma and appa are!”

“It’s okay, don’t cry,” she holds her closer, comforting the sobbing child with a slow pat and caress to her back. “Don’t worry, we’ll find her, arachi? What’s your name?”

“Ha…Eun,” she sniffles. “My name… Is Haeun… What… Should I… call you, eomonim?”

Suhyeon uses the napkin to wipe off her tears. “My name is Suhyeon,” she turns to him with a gaze of trust. “And this ahjussi’s name is Sungwoo. You’re gonna be staying with us for a while. We can get you anything you want while we look for your parents.”

Hearing it from her again, he oddly doesn’t mind the term this time. Maybe it’s just the context it’s used that bothered him before, but as it left her mouth, it sounds—normal. It sounds complimentary. “Hello, Haeun-ah,” he greets her. “Do you have anything we can use to help you find your parents? Do you memorize their phone numbers?”

“I don’t—*hic*—know, ahju—*hic*—ssi…” Haeun tries telling him through her hiccups.

Suhyeon notices the lanyard on Haeun’s neck, finding the girl’s ID. “Haeun-ah… Can I take a look at this for a second?”

The girl nods, allowing Suhyeon to inspect the back of the ID. Her guess proves her right. “It has a phone number,” she informs Sungwoo and everyone else in the café, filling up the once disquiet and tense café with optimism. “We can call your parents, Haeun-ah!”

Almost twenty minutes later, a couple storms inside the café with faces of fright and disquietude. “Haeun-ah!” they cry to her. Their unease dwindles down at the second they find their daughter sitting on the table beside Suhyeon and in front of Sungwoo, taking a sip of her own smaller cup of hot chocolate.

“Eomma, appa!” Haeun rejoices, running to them in the middle of the café as her parents wrap her in a warm embrace, prompting cheers from the staff and some customers. Sungwoo can only smile at their precious moment, though he sees Suhyeon letting out a sigh in relief—droplets of sweat start to drip out of her scalp. Yet it also fascinates him that her smile grows much wider.

“Kamsahamnida, Miss!” Haeun’s parents bow to them in a rapid succession, bowing as low as their heads can reach. “Kamsahamnida, Sir! I don’t know how we can repay you. Thank you so much for looking out for our daughter.”

“Gwenchanayo,” she reassures them, holding each of their arms in hopes that they stop bowing to them—which they eventually do. “Just keep looking out after your daughter.”

Another several minutes pass. The sun had already set and rush hour had just begun. Suhyeon and Sungwoo have exited the café, taking a stroll to the nearby bus stop. With no words leaving any of their mouths, they’re only hearing the horns of whining drivers along with their own footsteps. She’s quieter around him, ever since he saw her in tears. It’s the first time she hasn’t spoken to him on their way home.

“You know how to handle that pretty well,” he praises her. “Have you ever considered being a nursery or kindergarten teacher?”

Her eyes widen, realizing something that only she knows. “I have to go,” she tells him with a fast and weak pace, contrasting her enthusiasm earlier. “I’m really sorry about this, Sungwoo.”

“Oh… It’s fine!” He wants to ask why, but he stops himself. He doesn’t have the right. Besides, it’s not the first time she’s told and left out of the sudden, he nudges himself. Even if she doesn’t tell the reason... Even if she won’t tell him the reason the moment they text tonight, like nothing strange ever happened. “Take care… Suhyeon-ssi.”

= = =

Three weeks have passed. Things start to drift apart. Suhyeon stopped texting first after the first week, but Sungwoo didn’t stop. Both people have had sleepless nights, but they never meet. Not even text as often as they did. Due to the gradual fall in their digital and personal interaction, Sungwoo eventually stops taking initiative. As their respective lives go on, he does his best not to succumb to the temptation of texting her over and over, to the point she becomes uncomfortable like he’s often feared since they met.

Of course, it would be far from the last time he receives a text from her.

[Suhyeon]: Hey, Sungwoo-ssi. Can we meet?

No coffee or chocolate. No avocados or desserts. Just each other’s chilling presence and their own breaths warming up this winter afternoon. He notices her new look. It’s not a uniform, but it’s a little more formal than the previous attires he saw her in.

He simply wants to tell her that she’s beautiful, yet his more soured and stubborn self wants to ask her why it took her this long, even though he knows that her personal life has never been his business, nor should it be.

“It’s been a while,” he breaks the awkward silence with a sigh. “Is everything alright?”

“Things have…” Her eyes are darted on the ground, her hands clenching on her knees. “Gotten busier at work.”

He senses that something else is troubling her mind, but he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself. He’s nothing but a friend, perhaps a mere close acquaintance to her. Someone who she can confide her most trivial problems to, and only that. But despite this meek and unassertive thought, he believes that—deep down—that may just be for the better.

“I don’t think I’ll be meeting you in a while,” she continued before he could’ve answered.

“It’s okay,” he said without a tone of complaint. “I understand that. No pressure.”

Such a response struck a nerve in her or punched through her gut. As if that’s not the answer she had hoped for from the man. “What if I don’t see you longer than that?”

“Then…” He wants her to explain why she’s asking him such a question, but he tries to remain reasonable, no thanks to his self-doubt. “I’ll understand if you can’t meet up.”

He feels like himself in the past. Spineless. Dishonest. Numb. Helpless. Coward. Yet another part of him keeps fighting on, despising those traits, not for his own sake, but for her. Since they started meeting up and talking, Sungwoo has known a lot about her, yet there’s still so much he doesn’t know. The same goes for Suhyeon, but he thinks she cares little about that. There is an invisible barrier between them that has been keeping them from going further than this. Whatever this is.

And now, after a few months of making a connection with this wonderful woman, his mind braces for the worst case scenario, just as his heart foresees his fears. Is this it?

Their eyes meet, reading a few glimpses through each other’s souls. Broken. Deprived. Lonely. Yearning. She looks down on his face, his lips now appearing much closer. Her heartbeats do not deceive her, deafening her fear. No words follow from their mouths, only each other’s breaths becoming clearer and louder with each second. Giving in to the whispers of her temptation, Suhyeon gets up from her seat and inches towards him.

Frozen in the moment, their lips touch. Sungwoo melts into the kiss, closing her eyes with her. Seconds pass, warmth turns into a burning sensation. Sweetness turns to hunger, one that neither of them have felt in forever. As the man reciprocates her gesture, the irresistible tingle she’s feeling urges her tongue to slide into his—

“Mianhaeyo,” she takes a few steps back away from him, appalled by her own impulse while catching up her breath. “I… I shouldn't have done that—”

Sungwoo remains frozen for a second, but not his heart. He leans himself closer into her this time, embracing her as the beat of their hearts sync with the rhythm of their second kiss. With their eyes closed once again, Suhyeon doesn’t fight back. Instead, she slowly wraps her arms around his nape in order to pull him closer until their chests collide.

It would be the last time the pair would’ve met…

If it wasn’t for Sungwoo’s stubbornness. Even if it costs whatever they had, he wants to know how she's been doing ever since. Even if she made the move, he either can’t help but blame himself as the reason why she stops reaching out to him after that meetup.

{{Suhyeon-ssi.}}

{{I don’t know what happened then.}}

{{I'm really sorry for kissing you.}}

{{But I know something else is on your mind.}}

{{You can talk to me.}} {{Like you always have.}}

{{Please text back. Or call me.}}

{{Just tell me you’re okay.}} {{Or if you’re not.}}

{{If you really don’t want to meet again. I’ll understand.}}

{{But I’ll always be here.}}

= = =

Another week has passed, and Sungwoo goes on with his usual life—yet, the presence of Suhyeon still lingers on his mind. From the bar to the PC bang, he tries to do everything he can to get the woman off his thoughts. Even online dating—as some of his coworkers suggested to him lately… So he does, and after his twenty-third swipe, he hits it off with someone, much to his own surprise. “You must be Hyewon… Or is it Belle?” he corrects himself immediately. “Your profile has two names. I don’t know what to call you.”

She chuckles at his hesitant question. “Any will do… And you are Sungwoo-ssi, if I am not mistaken?”

Things are taking off for them in the next half an hour. He compliments her appearance. She laughs at his jokes, whether they’re forced or not. They talk about their opinions on certain topics. He fails to read her signals. It’s a start, he admits with little confidence.

But on that same Saturday night, he receives a phone call from an unknown number. He can just ignore the call, let the other party leave a message after the beep, maybe he can hang out with Belle a little longer, see how things go. Unfortunately for himself and his date, he can’t help but be Sungwoo. As someone who has spent his life through his job, every call for him has become an obligation.

He answers it with some caution. “This is Young Sungwoo speaking. Who is this?”

But that voice. Her voice. It's something that he can never forget. “It’s me, Ji Suhyeon. This is my company’s number… I’m sorry if I surprised you. I’m just finishing my shift for the night, and…”

She stops. And despite the past few times they’ve talked on the phone, he can now sense her hesitation from the other side. “You can say it. I won’t mind.”

“Well, I just thought of you,” she completes her words. “Plus, I owe you an apology. In ways more than one.”

He can hear his own heart, making that familiar rhythm. Whenever he was with her.

“It’s okay, Suhyeon,” he stammers, but immediately clears his throat. “How are you?”

“Could be worse, to be honest…” A deep breath from her fills the dead air for a few seconds before Sungwoo can hear her voice again. “Are you free… This weekend?”

There it is. It’s his chance. Maybe his last one.

“You know I am,” he tries to play it cool with her, yet he quickly realizes how awkward he sounded. “I mean, of course... Same place?”

He can hear Suhyeon let out a light chuckle for a moment. “Maybe not at the café,” she suggests. “But somewhere else. If that’s fine with you.”

It’s about the nth time they said those words to each other. But hearing it from her once again is a breath of fresh air. “Elsewhere would be nice, too.”

Returning to the bar, his eyes scan most of the place, only to find that his date is no longer around. He receives a message.

[Belle:] Sorry for dipping early, but I got a thing. We can still hang out another time if you want.

Strangely enough, he doesn’t feel a sense of disappointment. Sure, he’s bummed out he fumbled the date with the first woman he met online in years, but he’s not too bummed out about it because of her. Instead, he couldn't feel any luckier because of this call.

= = =

It’s the fourth of May. Instead of the usual café, they decided to meet at the park outside. They take a seat next to each other on one of the benches, albeit keeping a wide distance. He’s on the left corner, with her on the right. Amidst the silence of the background, they see each other in their springtime attire. Suhyeon is in a brighter dress and jeans, while Sungwoo is finally not wearing a suit for once; instead, he’s wearing a blue short sleeve. Whether or not today ends up being the last time they meet, both of them agree on one thing: it’s about time that they meet each other in the early morning for the first time.

“You look beautiful,” he scratches his head, finally listening to his heart instead of letting his own brain filter his thoughts until they sound more logical or interrupts himself with more filler words.

She looks down in embarrassment, hiding her reaction as she senses her cheeks slowly heating up. “Thank you,” she mumbles. “You look nice, too, Sungwoo-ssi.”

“Thanks… But can we talk about what happened last time—” he continues.

“I know,” Suhyeon interjects with a soft-spoken tone. She takes a deep breath, before looking up to face him. “But I have to tell you something first, if that’s okay.”

“Of course,” he straightens his sitting posture while their eyes level. “What is it?”

The woman gulps involuntarily. “There’s another job I haven't told you about… And it’s not that simple. It’s not that I don’t wanna meet you, Sungwoo, even if I'm busier... It’s just… I don’t know how to say this.”

“Take your time.” Sungwoo doesn’t know why she's suddenly talking about her job, yet he keeps listening, sensing her state of distress and hesitation. “Whatever that may be, and as long as you love it, I’m happy for you. I don’t think our… situation should get in the way of your…”

There it is again, she thinks. “Why shouldn’t it?”

“Because that’s your job,” he counters. “It’s your life… And besides, I can just adjust.”

“I don't think you can.” She can’t keep on lying and hiding like this. He has to know, even if it ruins things, ends things even. “Sungwoo-ssi. The thing is…”

“What is it? I’m sure it’s nothing bad—”

“I have a child, Sungwoo.”

She looks at him with a fortified expression, yet deep down, she feels the most nervous. Especially when his eyes widen after hearing those four words, her thoughts go all over the place, stricken with panic and despair. Not even air comes out from his mouth that moment, something that only intensifies Suhyeon’s unease as his silence lasts seconds.

“Did you just hear what I said?” she asks him up front, slightly raising her voice in an attempt to keep herself from crumbling from within. “I’m a single mother.”

“This job, this responsibility of mine isn’t easy,” she continues before he can make any response, clenching both her fists and finally pouring her heart out. “It never has been. Every year, you get into family gatherings. Not only do you help prepare them, but you buy gifts for your relatives, yet all you get from some of them are blames and lectures for what’s happened to you. And whenever you're with friends, you gotta put on a bolder face just to ask them to look out for the kid while you work your ass off in different jobs from morning ‘till afternoon—or whenever you're applying for one… But there's things I don't regret, at least with what I have now. And no matter how hard things get, I don’t regret keeping him. Raising him.”

At that moment, some things have become clearer to him. Their long and wholehearted talks about life and dreams. The unusual curfew and her leaving out of the sudden. Her encounter with the little girl. Her pent-up emotions finally cracking around him. Now, he realizes why she never told him more of her life, rooted out of the fear and distress that she will be rejected, lambasted, patronized, or looked down on, like everyone else in her life.

“And just like meeting you that night… It’s something that I don’t regret either,” she confesses. “Even if that was some silly chance encounter, it was one of the times I felt something new. So I called you that day to see where it goes, and here we are… But of course—a part of me still keeps telling me: Let it go. You’re a mother now. You don't deserve to have these feelings... You're just giving yourselves a hard time.”

Sungwoo looks at her face. His mind and heart tells her to hold her hand. Say anything. Do anything to comfort her, now that she’s told him the truth about the barrier that has been keeping them from going the distance for months.

Suhyeon’s heart starts to tighten with every beat, seeing his look of guilt and sorrow. It's not the first time she's seen it from someone. “If you don’t want to see me, after this… I'll understand, Sungwoo... I was the one who invited you into whatever-this-thing-is to begin with, didn’t I?”

“No,” he tells her without hesitation. “That doesn’t change what I think about you.”

“It should…” she mutters in defeat, shameful to even look him in the eye as she says it.

“What you said, it only proved what I already thought of you… You’re a wise, beautiful, hardworking, independent, and fearless woman,” he elaborates, allowing himself to be vulnerable with Suhyeon. “And for you to keep that part of your life for long—it must’ve been a pain. It’s something that I can’t imagine. I’m sorry I didn’t ask you sooner. About how you were really feeling. What you’re going through—”

“Don't,” she interjects with disdain, but not for him. It’s too late, Suhyeon thinks while her mouth remains shut. You’ve heard this before. Look at what happened to us. “I’m tired of people telling me that they're sorry. It's not your fault why I'm like this.”

“I know… I’m sorry because I wasn’t attentive enough. That I wasn’t courageous enough,” he adds. “But I am not sorry that it doesn't change how I feel about you.”

Her eyes widen, her mouth agape in shock. Staring through his soul, waves of emotions start to clash deep down in her heart—Awe. Doubt. Denial. Mistrust. Misunderstanding. Fear. Warmth. Comfort. Growth. Excitement. Hope. Joy. Acceptance—while a stream of conflicting thoughts flood her mind. This was bound to happen sooner or later. What’s the point of this? You never had a chance. He’s one of them. You’re a disgrace for ever being here. He'll just leave you. Go home with your son and your parents. There’s no point in hoping, Ji Suhyeon. “Sungwoo-ssi…”

“I like you, Suhyeon-ssi,” he finally affirms, with much stronger conviction in his voice. “I don��t know if it means anything to you, but that’s the truth… I don’t care what comes after this. But I just want you to know that there's no shame in what you are, and what you're going through… I'll always be here for you.”

Suhyeon’s inner thoughts and misgivings shut down. In turn, her heart starts to sing without shame, rejoicing and reaching ranges she hasn't felt in years, as it yearns for something more. His earnest gentleness. His soothing scent. His comforting touch. Unbeknownst to her, he feels just about the same.

She rushes to Sungwoo, laying her head on his chest and wrapping her arms around him. He places his right hand on her head, caressing it. That warm comfort that she’s been longing for, it’s within her grasp. Tears of jubilation begin to drip from her face down to his shirt, as she breathes easier. “Gomawoyo, Sungwoo.”

Gently pulling away from their embrace, she leans back to look at him closely with a warm and grateful smile that mirrors his, letting out a chuckle of relief. “And I like you, too.”

A smile quickly forms on Sungwoo’s face, prompting him to give her a peck on the lips. As she giggles, Suhyeon prolongs the act with a longer, sweeter kiss of acceptance. From this day forward, their months of week to week encounters and meetups at the café end, as a new chapter of their lives awaits. It is unknown as it is promising, exciting as it is frightening. But at least they have each other to face it head-on. Together.

= = =

a/n: hello again! if you've reached the end, then you must've read a good chunk of it. it's not my proudest work, even if it's only my second one, tho I liked writing it for the most part. still, I wanna publish it, 'cause I don't want it to stay in my drafts lol. once again, the aforementioned next fic from earlier is already in progress. anyhoo, thanks for the read. I hope you have a great day!

[flowerandblood]

The Man with the Cold Lips

[ Amor • Aemond x Psyche • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, oral sex, fingering, smut, angst, domination, violence, trauma, mourning ]

[ description: After she is attacked in a fair by a strange man and narrowly avoids death, her father the king decides that from now on she will be watched over by one of his ‘ghosts’, a assassin acting on his orders, wearing a black mask. The man follows her like a shadow, accompanied by their past, which keeps her awake at night. Gothic horror love story, angst, sexual tension, very dark Aemond. ]

This story is several requests combined into one: sworn protector x female; Amor x Psyche; Phantom of the Opera! Aemond x female. I took the liberty of creating a completely new story from this, having only elements of each of these requests.

Series & Characters Moodboard Lady Walford Moodboard Gothic & Horror Sensual Moodboard

Part 1 - The Man with the Black Mask | Part 2 - The Man with the Empty Heart | Part 3 - The Man with the Lost Soul | Part 5 - The Man with the Deep Scar | Part 6 - The Man with the One Eye | Part 7 - The Man with the Golden Gift | Part 8 - The Man in the Black Crown | Part 9 - The Man with the Bloody Sword | Part 10 - The Man in the Black Gloves | Part 11 - The Man in the Death Cloak | Part 12 - The Man with the Pearly Hair | Part 13 - The Man with the Fiery Gaze

Yesterday's trailer and the panel with ewan did something to me, so I think that dark aemond is the most appropriate thing I can give you today and that's it. It begins!

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Although she knew it was dangerous, after what had happened she forbade telling the King about what she had discovered. Some part of her hoped that Prince Aemond was alive − she was willing to help him regain the throne if only he would agree to spare her brother's life.

She spent the rest of the day alone in her chamber, covered in thick furs, thinking hard about what had happened.

About Vhagar.

He told her she knew his name, so he must have been someone she had seen on a daily basis before. Her discovery frightened him enough that he was willing to kill her − however, did he really want to do it out of fear of her father's wrath and the fact that he would lose his position, or was it something else?

She bit her lower lip at the thought that a part of her suspected she might be working with the Prince, to be his liaison, a devoted servant who by some miracle had managed to get into her father-king's closest guard.

He gave up the idea of murder because he knew that even if he had faked her suicide − the King would have blamed him for not watching over her and he would have lost everything, so he came up with another excuse, hiding himself behind sheer terror, hoping that she would believe him.

However, what purpose did what happened between them afterwards?

She pressed her lips together, feeling the heat in her body at the memory of that overwhelming feeling of fulfilment, that wonderful tickling and tension rising in her lower abdomen with each of his thrusts.

She placed her hand on her womb, swallowing hard at the thought that he had come inside her, that she could expect a child because of his seed.

She squeezed her eyelids shut, trying to breathe calmly, thinking only of how much better it would have been if he had let her die that night.

Her father had demanded, despite her objections, that she join the funeral feast in her mother's honour, so she walked reluctantly down to the great hall, her ghost following her at a greater distance than usual.

She thought that he himself was horrified by what had happened between them and the consequences that might follow.

She sat down at the table next to her brother, her father smiled at her and she reciprocated the gesture, thinking with amusement about how easy it was for her to pretend.

"There she is, my daughter. My treasure, my greatest support." He said with a pride from which her throat squeezed.

Only a few years ago she would have believed his words.

She felt him grasp her hand and she reciprocated the embrace, stroking his skin with her thumb.

"She's no longer a child and I've decided it's time to find her a suitable candidate for a husband." He said lightly, she felt her heart stop, the smile disappeared from her lips, on her face only pain mixed with disbelief.

They were at a feast dedicated to the funeral of her mother, his queen, and he was discussing her marriage.

"I ask that willing lords report to me on this matter." He said contentedly, letting go of her hand, and she closed her eyes, trying to calm herself.

She felt him standing behind her, felt his menacing, dark aura, and wondered what he was thinking.

If he imagined her lying in bed with another man, letting him sink deep between her thighs.

She left the feast quickly that evening, explaining to her father that she was tired, which he accepted with understanding. When she stepped into her chamber her servants helped her to pull off her mourning gown, once again offering her condolences, blowing out all the candles one by one.

She lay comfortably under the thick layers of furs, looking out the window at the cloudless sky full of stars, thinking about what had happened, unable to believe that by some miracle she was still alive.

As she began to slowly fall asleep she shuddered suddenly; she heard the door to her chamber open − Vhagar stepped inside without a word and closed it quietly behind him.

She watched with a rapidly pounding heart as, with an unhurried, lazy step, he approached her windows, untied the curtains and covered the only source of light with them, repeating this act until complete darkness fell around them.

She could see nothing but blackness.

She heard the sound of steel hinges opening, then the sound of a belt being unbuckled and the rustling of robes falling to the floor.

She lay still, her lips parted in horror and disbelief, felt once again this familiar, throbbing sensation between her thighs and embarrassing, sticky wetness.

She listened to his footsteps, the old wood creaking under his feet as he finally climbed onto her bed, she heard it bend under his weight.

She felt the touch of his big hand on her cheek and trembled, taking a deep breath, realising he wasn't wearing gloves, his warm breath wrapped around her face.

She tightened her hands on his bare, muscular shoulders as his fingers slipped into the ties of her nightgown and just ripped them open − she squealed when she heard the sound of the fabric being torn and a cool breeze surrounded her flesh.

"− I won't stop −" He said in a trembling, deep voice, so startlingly clear that shivers ran through her, her mouth parted wide in a helpless moan when she realised he wasn't wearing a mask.

She squealed loudly, her body arching all over, her hands clenched in his hair when she felt it, his cold, wet mouth clamped down on her warm breast, playing with her nipple, sucking and licking it, the spot between her thighs throbbing with pleasure and desire.

"− oh − oh, gods −" She mumbled out, never having felt anything like it in her life, his hands ripped her chemise off her and only then did she feel his whole naked body pressed against her skin − it was such an overpowering, shocking sensation that she was out of breath.

She wanted to enjoy every second of what was happening, his lips teasing her nipple with a loud click, clearly taking great pleasure from it, his hands tightened on her hips, forcing her to spread her thighs wider in front of him, her fingers stroking his hair − she thought with a trembling heart that they were unexpectedly soft and long.

"− we can't −" She choked out with an effort, wanting to retain the remnants of her sober thinking and decency.

He, however, only chuckled under his breath, amused, his hand from her hip slid down between her thighs − she whimpered loudly as his fingertips ran over her heat, collecting the moisture that had already managed to flow out of her, oversensitive and delicate.

"− should I leave you like this? − I'm not that cruel −" He hummed under his breath with a kind of excitement from which she quivered all over. She heard him raise himself higher on his elbow, his nose ran over her cheek − she gasped as she felt his fingers begin to apply more pressure, in sure, circular motions teasing the bud hidden between her folds.

All she could think about was that he wasn't wearing a mask, her hand rised involuntarily to touch his cheek.

"Tsk-tsk." He hissed as he caught her wrist − his tongue ran over her upper lip as his middle finger made its way inside her, searching with it for the spot he had rubbed earlier with his length. "Don't."

She mewled with delight and her body shook with a shiver of pleasure when he finally found it, her hips responded to his touch with desperate rocking, her mouth parted invitingly, letting his tongue deep into her throat, their lips joined in a sticky, loud, hot kiss.

She panted loudly along with him, stroking his hair as she felt him slide his finger out of her, impatient, his lips sucking and brushing her fleshy skin again and again as the tip of his manhood pushed against her swollen slit, thrusting forcefully inside her.

She clasped her hands on his bare back feeling the scars beneath them and cried quietly into his mouth, trying with difficulty to fit him inside her − he throbbed all over in arousal, her breasts pressed against his chest in the tight embrace of their bodies.

They both started to moan between loud, wet kisses as he began to root into her hot core − this time she was so wet that a few pushes of his hips were enough for him to begin slipping into her with ease.

"− mmm − that's it − so fucking good −" He panted into her mouth, gripping her hips tightly with his hands, stretching her tight walls with his length with every movement of his hips.

She moaned helplessly beneath him, stroking his hair, neck, shoulders and back, all sweaty from exertion, their lips finding each other in messy kisses over and over again.

"− fuck − do you really think I'm going to share what's mine? − that I would allow some mere, petty lord take you? − hm? −" He hissed out and she felt her walls clench tightly on him at his words in pleasure, heat surged through her lower abdomen from which her head completely spun, her helpless whimpering answered him.

"− p-please − I − ughmm −" She babbled, unable to focus on anything other than how he slammed his manhood into her, how wonderfully it teased the spot hidden in her walls.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, wanting to feel him closer, tightening her fingers on his back − she heard him groan low feeling it, speeding up, thrusting into her like crazy.

"− you want it, don't you? − my seed − deep, deep inside you − fuck, say it −" He breathed out between quick, deep, brutal thrusts − she felt him looking at her, felt his hot breath on her face, his forehead pressed against hers.

"− y-yes − please − fill me, fill me, fill me −" She mewled, both of them moaning loudly as a powerful orgasm shook her body, her core began to clench against him, forcing him to let go, his length twitching all over as his semen spilled deep inside her.

"− good gods, yes, take it −" He exhaled in delight, his thrusts sloppy and desperate, pushing his seed as deep into her as possible.

"− you're mine − I'm going to fill you every night − gods, you're going to bear me so many children −" He gasped in bliss, slowly coming down from his peak, the whimpers of pleasure coming out of her lips at his words − she wasn't sure she'd ever experienced anything like this in her life.

"− please −" She mumbled quietly like a helpless child, running her hands over his naked skin, wanting to remember that wonderful feeling − they were both hot and sweaty with pleasure, their bodies sticking to each other, her breasts pressed against his bare chest.

They both sighed when he finally fell on top of her, embracing her, their fingers sinking into each other's bodies, wanting to feel each other as much as possible, though she wasn't sure if two people could connect in any physical way more than they did now.

She could feel his loud, raspy breath against her cheek, the tip of his nose running over her hot skin, as if he wanted to check that it wasn't all just the result of his imagination.

"− stay − stay inside me −" She whispered, and he sighed quietly, as if relieved, with a gentle movement of his hips sliding his already half-soft manhood fully into her, hiding himself deep inside her.

Even though she knew it was wrong and irresponsible, that she couldn't trust him, that he was a traitor, she had never felt safer with anyone before, her eyelids closing involuntarily, having not experienced a peaceful sleep for so long.

"− don't open your eyes until I leave −" He whispered in her ear and she nodded, stroking his soft hair, her lungs filled with his scent, male sweat, steel, dust and fire.

His arms held her in a tight embrace through this night and many nights to come, making the days blend into one for her.

Each time he came to her he would cover the windows with curtains so that she could see nothing, and then sink his lips and tongue into the warmth between her thighs, groaning in delight as he felt how much of her moisture flowed out of her, only to end up rooting deep into her, as he promised, filling her with his seed.

He always rose before dawn − she could see through her closed eyelids that the first rays of light were sneaking into her chamber despite the curtains, that if she opened them she could see his face.

She feared, however, what she would see.

All she could think about all day was the night, what he brought to her along with the brutal, deep thrusts of his hips.

When he took her, he would say that he was her husband, that only he had the right to touch her, that she would only bear his children.

She was his.

He used to show this to her by standing closer than usual when she was eating or reading, by no longer leaving when she was taking a bath or changing, staring at her shamelessly, promising her servants in her presence that if they said anything to the King, he would end their lives.

"Vhagar doesn't mean it and he would never hurt you against my will. Am I right?" She asked coldly, frowning at him as the terrified girl tried to attach the long sleeves to her gown with trembling hands.

"Mmm."

When they were alone he would dare to approach her from behind as she sit, his leather-gloved hand running over her throat only to grasp her cheeks tightly and lift her face up, forcing her to look at him.

She stared into his eyes obscured by the dark material, at his mask, indifferent, cold, mocking, his thumb gently massaging her skin.

He didn't need to say anything − she could feel the tension between them quivering in the air, making her feel a throbbing inside her.

"Tonight I'm going to make use of those lips." He hummed softly, parting her lips with his finger − she closed her eyes, feeling that she couldn't last, her hand lifted swiftly the thick layers of her gown and slid deep between her thighs, sinking into her moist warmth.

He sighed quietly, looking down at it, clearly taking satisfaction from the fact that his mere presence made her unable to bear it, that she needed to relieve herself.

"− do you want it so badly? − me fucking those moist, sweet lips? − hm? −" He cooed, and she only whimpered, tilting her head back, resting it against his stomach, with a loud, embarrassing click rising and falling on her fingers, teasing her pearl at the same time, feeling her nipples grow hard with arousal.

"− please −" She mumbled, although she didn't know what she was asking for, they couldn't do it now − they had to wait until night fell, like every day.

"− you look wonderful like this −" He murmured, stroking her cheek with his thumb, his voice trembling slightly − she knew that he was already completely hard, that he was dying at the thought of being deep inside her at night. "− so devoted −"

She mewled at his words and felt him clamp his hand over her mouth, stifling her moans that escaped her throat as she reached her peak − she felt her walls clench hungrily on her fingers, wonderful waves of heat surged through her body again and again. She heard him gasp with satisfaction as he saw her body spilling in front of him on the chair.

"− mine −"

That night as they lay in complete darkness, both of them falling asleep, his nose snuggled into the hollow of her neck, his soft manhood deep inside her, she dared to ask him the question that had long been pressing against her tongue.

"Are you Prince Aemond's envoy?"

Her question hung in the air as if in the void; she felt his body freeze − for a moment he did not breathe, his fingers tightened on her soft skin.

Silence.

Long, cruel, cold.

"Yes."

She swallowed loudly, a shudder went through her at his words. He felt it and leaned in, placing a soft, warm kiss on her shoulder, his fingers squeezing her breast with affection.

"I want to help him. Can you convey this to him?" She asked in a whisper and felt him flinch all over, letting the air out of his lungs in disbelief − she felt him lift a little, his hot breath on her cheek.

"What do you mean?" He asked in a trembling, low, deep voice, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. She pressed her lips together feeling her heart pounding like mad.

"I will support him if he spares my little brother. If he agrees, I'll do whatever he wants." She said in pain, feeling a squeeze in her throat − his lips pressed quickly against her skin, greedily, violently, kissing and sucking her, his length throbbing hard inside her.

He began to move again, slowly rooting into her with a sigh of delight and relief, saying no more until they reached their peak together, panting loudly, their bodies heated and quivering with exertion.

"− be patient −" He whispered in her ear with such tenderness that she felt her heart squeeze, heat spilling over her lower abdomen. "− soon − I promise you, we'll be married soon −"

After what he said, she fell asleep filled with hope, with the fact that she wanted to believe his words, that he would really protect her, that perhaps a great bloodshed could be avoided this time.

That they would really get married.

She thought that now, that everything had come together in her mind, she could finally look at him − her future husband, the man who had taken her for himself, who brutally and indivisibly stormed into her heart.

That was why, even though she had sworn to him that she would not do so, hearing him get dressed in a hurry she lifted her eyelids.

She felt her heart freeze, her throat squeezed so tightly that she couldn't catch her breath.

He sensed something was wrong, subconsciously realised she had broken her promise and lifted his gaze to her, his hands clenched on the belt of his coat.

A large scar ran across his right cheek, in his eye socket not a blue iris, as it seemed to her when she looked at him through the thin black material, but a sapphire, glinting dangerously in the first rays of the sun, his lips clenched into a thin line, in his healthy eye pain, disappointment and anger.

"You shouldn't have done that."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

[sorceresssundries]

Writing promp:

Gale and Tav’s first night in Waterdeep, post-wedding. Both are cuddling on the couch under a blanket, Tav slowly drifting in and out of sleep.

Gale’s in tears as he really can’t believe his luck, with Tav comforting him.

(I’m a romantic sap this evening.)

By the Firelight

Pairing: Gale x male Tav - SFW

Word Count: 800

Now i'm a romantic sap!! I hope you enjoy a little bit of sweet, newlywed bliss. Thank you anon, for the prompt xx

The two Mr. Dekarios were curled up on their favourite sofa in their tower, both still in their wedding robes, drunk on love, joy, and far too much wine. The warmth of the crackling fire beckoned them towards sleep, and they were so entwined they might as well have been one person. They were, really - these husbands of Waterdeep. The broken heroes who had met in dire circumstances and somehow fallen in love amidst shadow-curses and bloodstained battlegrounds. The clash of steel had been their ballad, relentless travel their courtship. Yet, by some miracle, love had settled, flourished, endured, and wrapped them into one person.

Gale had always been one for the grand gesture, for loud declarations and intricate acts of service, it was only now he was able to sink into the quiet, delicate moments he could fully understand the true depth and balance of being the other half of a person. How lucky he was, to be the other half of someone like Tav. No, he thought, correcting himself. Not someone like Tav. There was no-one else like Tav.

Before, he had believed that in order to be loved wholly, he had to chip away parts of himself and squeeze and twist into the cramped chambers of hearts he did not belong in. Tav’s heart was a welcome sanctuary, and no sacrifices or tolls were required to settle into its soft comfort. It was the place he realised he had always been working towards, and now he was there - it felt like finally coming home.

Gale raised his hand from his beloved so the new ring adorning his middle finger could catch the light. The flickering flames made the colours dance together, and the shimmer in Gale’s eyes made it look to him as though the ring was giving off its own glow. As was tradition, they had each designed a ring, which, during the ceremony, had been cut in half and the non-matching halves fused together to create their union rings. Gale was delighted with the blend of their two designs, with how different they were and yet how seamlessly they flowed into each other. Half of the ring was a simple, slim band forged from pure silver, a mythical metal said to offer protection to its wearer, and the other was intricately braided from gold and copper, resembling a beautiful autumn vine. 

“Are you crying again?” Tav murmured sleepily, not raising his head from Gale’s chest. 

“Not at all, Mr.Dekarios. ”Gale cleared his throat and blinked away the tears. “Just got some dust in my eye.”

“Ah, more dust is it? How strange. There seemed to be plenty of dust in the tavern as well” Tav raised his head to offer Gale a sweet kiss, before settling back down and nuzzling his face against his chest like a cat.

“Is it because of the whole incident with Lae’zel and the cake?” Tav’s voice was low and tired “Because I think she was just trying to be helpful.”

Gale smiled at the memory, “My mother spent a fortune on that cake, and she sliced through the middle of it with a steel sword.”

“She thought there may have been a Kobold in there.”

“Yes, well she also thought the priest may have been a shapeshifter, but luckily we managed to avoid that potential bloodbath. All that was in that cake was a small fortune’s worth of traditional almond sponge.” 

He felt Tav’s laugh rumble against his chest “I found it very funny.” 

Gale kissed the top of his head, “Well, as long as it made you laugh, my rose. I’ll forgive her.”

The day had been filled with laughter, Gale had never laughed so much in his life. He had laughed so much with Tav it became as instinctive as breathing. They had danced, and kissed (to Tara’s disgust), and smiled until their rosy cheeks ached with joy. He was alight with unfiltered happiness.

Gale let the tears spill and held Tav tighter. 

Tav stirred once again, and when he kissed Gale he could taste the salty tears on his lips. 

“Normally, I would tell you not to cry.” He smiled and kissed at each tear on his cheek. “But you have earned your joy, and I don’t think you should hold any of it back.” 

They settled back together in gentle silence, their breathing in sync and touches reverent and loving as they held each other in comfortable bliss. 

“It’s exciting, isn’t it?” Tav’s voice was just a sleep heavy whisper, barely audible over the crackle and popping of the simmering fire. 

“What’s that, my love?” Gale stroked his hair, and listened as Tav’s breathing became deeper and their eyes fluttered with the weight of oncoming sleep.

“The next adventure.” Tav sighed, before slipping away to dream of his dusty-eyed husband.

[snowblossomreads]

Day 11 - Out of Reach

Pairings: Lionel Shabandar x Fem!Reader

Summary: In where [Y/n] crushes on her boss who may or may not have similar feelings (spoilers he does)

Tag(s)/Warning(s): boss/secretary thing, pining, 'collecting' people, unhm not too much other stuff really, Lionel getting angy for a moment, worrying about job loss, that's it?

A/N: AYEE it's our boi Lionel 🦁🦁🦁 !!! I have not really written for him before lol so much sorry if it's out of character i'm trying here bhaha!

Crushing on your boss, was one of the most cliche things someone could ever do. Yet here [Y/n] was doing that exact thing, in hopes that maybe, it would all end up like a romantic Christmas BBC special. You know the one, where the protagonist is in love with their boss who, is very much out of reach? But it turns out the boss has been crushing too. Yeah, those.

Only, she didn't think Santa liked her that much. Granted, she stopped believing in him when she saw her mum sneaking presents under the tree when she was ten, but she also wasn’t a big believer in Christmas miracles. It’d be nice though. Because boooy, the list of things she would do for Lionel Shabandar to like her as much as she liked him was looong. 

And some of them were very much not child-friendly.

Hey, it wasn't her fault he was so handsome, suave, and also, so, so demanding of everyone he worked with. A lot of the people who worked for him found that he was a bit of an asshole, but her? Nah. She just saw a man who knew what he wanted, and did what he needed, to make sure he got it. And boy did watching him deal with some of his clients get her hot and bothered, when he would lay waste to them with facts and data until the other person had no other choice than to acquiesce to him, or go back to the drawing board. 

Lionel wasn't a fool, and he certainly didn't have time to suffer with fools or day dreamers. No, he had a business to run and a world to dominate with his media might. 

But speaking of day dreamers.  

"Day-dreaming again [Y/n]?"

The low rumble of his sonorous voice right by her ear, caused her to jolt in her seat as she hadn't even realized he had come over to her. Startled by him suddenly appearing right by her side, and giving her a look of amusement, she couldn't help the flood of embarrassment that ran through her veins, and showed on her face as she tried to play it off. Shuffling up some paper to make it look like she hadn't been zoning out, she smiled at him in hopes he would ignore her zoning out.

He of course, wasn't fooled by that. 

"I don't believe I pay you to just sit pretty and day dream about doing work," he continued, straightening to his full height and crossing his arms against his chest. "Though I do so enjoy looking at you as much as I do my Monet's. Much more interesting than silly paperwork. Though I guess it is a good problem to have. Paperwork that is."

Oh, also how could she forget how much of a flirt he was. Was it really her fault that she was crushing on him whenever he would say something like that to her? 

"I'm so sorry Lionel!" [Y/n] apologized profusely, looking at him bashfully. "It won't happen again! I was just looking at the winter gala information and the themes for the night," she lied hoping to save her skin. 

"Hmm really?"

"Yep, just wanted to make sure we had everything we needed before I went to talk to Earl about getting some potential sample art pieces for the gala."

There was a grimace on his face when she said that, and she noticed it would appear whenever they talked about his curator. She didn't know why, but he seemed to not really liked the man which was so very strange. He did hire him after all. 

"Then why do you only have the lunch menu of the Savoy's grill and memos from print media on your desk?"

She looked down and those were exactly the things on her desk. Well, would you look at that.

"I-I uhm…I got hungry?" 

If he fired her for that, he would very much be in the right for it as she watched him close his eyes, his lips going into a thin line before he let out air through his nose. 

She was about to lose her job wasn't she? So long any chance of her getting to date him. As if there were any in the first place.

"It is about time isn't it," Lionel spoke as he opened his eyes, and glanced down at his watch, and back to [Y/n] who was trying to not gawk at him.

What.

"But before that, I need you to find Earl." Another grimace. "And do indeed tell him about the samples, I rather have this done sooner than later so we can fix any mess ups that happen."

"Don't have any faith in him do you?"

"Barely," he groused, annoyance clear on his features as he rolled his eyes. "I'm not sure why I even keep him on, the quality of his work has been declining for a while now and as you know, I have no time to suffer fools. Especially with the growth that’s happening with the company."

She did. Which made her cheer knowing she wasn't a fool, at least because she was still here.

"Well everyone has their slumps sometimes Lionel," [Y/n] responded, actually dragging up the memos and notes from the board members with their requests and preferences for the gala. "Maybe he's just having one right now? He did help with curating the spring gala this year, and there were a lot of compliments from the board and others, so maybe he's rebounding?"

"The spring gala?" He huffed in exasperation at that memory, and she couldn't help but feel a rant coming on. "You mean after you had to intervene after seeing him show up with a collection of expressionism paintings rather than surrealism after he mixed up which storage room he went into?"

That had been a whole debacle, and she’d never seen Lionel turn that red with anger. The heat had practically radiated off of him as he glared at poor Earl who was bumbling his apologies while [Y/n] tried to calm Lionel. 

"If it wasn't for you it would have been a  bloody disaster!" 

Eh, he did have a point. But she liked Earl pretty well, and he seemed mostly competent. Mostly competent, was well below Lionel's standards though.

"I'll take the compliment, but I'll make sure I'm clear with Earl this time about what we need," she smiled, garnering a similar look from him that made her stomach feel all funny.

He had a very nice smile. 

"Good, other than your daydreaming," he started, causing her to want to squirm in embarrassment, "you've clearly been a better hire than my previous assistant," Lionel mused as his features softened, his eyes watching her intently making  her to feel a bit shy under his gaze. "I'm not one for silly praise, your compensation should be enough for that." 

It was. Quite generous actually. 

"But I do hope you stay on for as long as possible, I do quite like seeing you every day, and appreciate how thorough your work is."

If her face wasn't on fire from earlier when he had shown up next to her suddenly, it sure was now. Something else was on fire as well. Leave it up to her to turn his praise into something more. 

"Thank you Lionel, I hope I can keep satisfying you with my work."

"Oh, I'm sure you will." He replied, flashing a smirk at her that many a woman before had fallen for, and she was not ashamed to be another on the list. "Now," he cleared his throat, "before you talk to Earl, I think lunch is waiting for us. That is if you care to join me today?"

"Yes please!"

"Get. Out." 

He was hot and fuming, but his words were as chilly as the London air this time of the year. Actually, they may have been colder. 

Add the way she had never seen someone run from his office like this, and she had seen some people powerwalk out the door mind you, and she knew they were in a shitty place.

Six weeks until the gala and the ball had been dropped and bad. Earl was out, and they were left with a steaming pile of turd, Lionel's words not hers. But it was very much what it was. 

"Lionel I've called, Andrew, Catherine, James and Holly but all of them are either booked with work or out of the country and won't be able to make it."

"What about Martin?"

"I left a message with Mr. Zaidenweber's assistant, but she said he had just started work with another client and won't be able to fit it into his schedule with such short notice."

"Bloody damn!" He hissed, slamming his hand on the desk, causing some of the items on it to shake and fall. One of the victims, was a little globe that rolled off it and onto the floor as it made its way towards where [Y/n] was standing. "I should have fired him months ago!" He spat, as he leaned over his desk to look at the samples that were left , and it seemed to make him even more furious as he swiped them onto the floor with force. The sound of the pages crinkling filled the air with a ‘woosh’ as he did that.

"And now I'm going to look like an absolute fool to these people because of that little prat!" 

Grabbing the little globe that rolled towards her before it tapped the sole of her shoe, she brought it back to his desk, sitting it down before backing away. She could feel the fury radiating off of him, and rightfully so, considering all the important people who were supposed to be coming to talk business. 

While she wasn't extremely savvy in all of that, only knowing bits and bobs from what Lionel told her, and a bit of research she had to do when clients were coming. She knew appearances were everything, and taking into account what people liked and didn't like was important. 

And Earl had mucked up terribly it seemed, after mishearing what she had said, even though she had sent him memo after memo with what was needed. In a way, it made her feel like it was her fault even logically it wasn't. Still, though, he had entrusted her with that task, and from where she was at right now she felt like a great big failure.

"I'm so sorry Lionel!" She blurted out, her head dropping to look at the floor, hoping to avoid his anger and also to avoid him seeing how her eyes began to gloss.  

A familiar pang in her chest attempted to crawl up her throat, and she tried to keep it down as she had no intention of crying in front of him.

There was a beat of silence before he answered, and when he did, his voice was filled with utter confusion because what was she talking about? 

"I'm sorry?" A look of bewilderment appeared on his face that she couldn't see, and with the tone of his voice going up from his norm, it made her want to hide. "What are you going on about [Y/n]? I don't pay you to curate art though at this point I may have to!" 

"It's just, I-I was the one who said Earl would be fine doing it," she explained shakily as she fidgeted with her fingers. "Even during lunch that one time. I tried to convince you of it…and now he's gone and botched it! I know the board is going to have something to say if things don't go right. And it's not gone right…just because I couldn't keep my mouth shut." 

The room was quiet for a moment before the sound of his shoes tapping against the floor echoed around the space as he approached her. With each step, she felt her heart drop further into her stomach. All that joking around about losing her job, but this time, she might really lose it. 

Head still bowed, even when she felt him standing in front of her, she was jolted when she felt a hand wrap around her forearm, and a finger lifting her head up to look at him.

His lips were drawn into a frown, but the look in his eyes was devoid of anger. Especially now, when he saw her eyes that were rimmed red, which caused a look of concern to etch itself onto his face

"[Y/n] once again you have things arse backwards," Lionel huffed, but gently. "I hired you to run around and make sure the others have their orders, not, to do their work! Not only that, I can assure you I have no intention of blaming anyone for the decisions I make. And it was my decision to let him continue on. So enough of that, I don't enjoy your tears being wasted on something silly like this." 

"B-But I-."

"[Y/n]." His voice was stern, and she quickly shut her mouth not one to back talk him. That seemed to placate him considering the pleased smile on his face before a thoughtful one took over.

"Good. Mow that we are on the same page, I need to make a call, I think I may have a solution. But well, we will see," he explained as he removed his finger from under her chin, which caused disappointment to rise in her chest. Though the one on her arm stayed and she wasn't in a hurry to move it. 

She was hopeless wasn't she?

"Why don't you go and have lunch while I make a call, darling."

Darling? 

That was a first. But she wasn't gonna complain about it either as he didn't even seem phased by what he had said. 

For a moment, she wondered if he had even realized what had come out of his mouth. But he gave no hint of whether or not he did, and she could only do so much to hold back the grin that wanted to break through..

"Sure! Should I bring you back your usual?"

"Yes, that will be fine."

Giving him a smile, they stood in the same spot for a moment, his hand still on her arm as they gazed at one another before [Y/n] made the first move.

"W-well I'll be back and hopefully to some good news," she rambled, as she stepped back from his hold, which caused him to let go of her.  

Already she missed his touch, but they had things to do, his was probably more important by hey so was eating. 

Watching her go on her way, Lionel bit his bottom lip as she left all while he lingered in the middle of the room. His thoughts filled with a plan that he was sure to work, but also with thoughts of [Y/n]. 

His sweet, caring, brilliant, hard working assistant, who was also extremely alluring, so much so he would be remiss to compare her to the paintings he had. Oh no, she was much more stunning than those paintings. 

And like the collector he was, he wanted to collect her. Maybe even have her in his permanent collection…

The only problem was he couldn't tell if she was as interested in him as he was her. But with the way she let him touch her, and how she seemed to hold back when he called her that little pet name, maybe there was a chance. 

A smirk graced his lips at the thought of having her all for himself, but it would have to wait, because he had a gala that needed curating for, and no curator. And that just would not do.

So, he made his way to his desk and took his seat behind it. His back facing the glass window that showed a busy plaza in the middle of London as he picked up his desk phone and dialed a familiar number.

It rang a few times before the receiver was picked up on the other end, and a much to happy sounding voice came through the phone almost shouting.

"Li! What a surprise! You never call me at work without an appointment! And right before lunch too. Everything alright?"

"Quite alright, yes, but Sinclair, I need a favor." 

A/N: What's next? Who knows : D ( I do hehe)

[nessieart]

The Way Back. XIII

WC: 5.6k

Summary: These powers were meant to help people. Help The Avengers, your family. It felt like every time you used them, something bad always happened. Maybe someone has the answers, somewhere.

Bucky x reader(past) || Steve x reader

AN: there's a lot of dialog in this one, I didn't want to screw around too much with making Endgame different. Please enjoy and leave some feedback!

Masterlist

Previously:

"Yeah. Doesn't mean I still won't worry. It's in the job description," he smiles when you playfully shove him away. "Come by tomorrow, yeah?"

You hum, "We'll see." It's something you've both been saying since you got back. But you always see him the next day, even if it's for a little while.

Tony pecks you on the forehead before he bids you goodnight. "Love ya, kiddo."

"Night, love you, too," and then you portal back to Steve's and your apartment.

It's dim, the only light on is the stove light. It's quiet here, too.

You call out for him, the only answer is your heavy sigh as you make your way to the bedroom. It's empty. Maybe he needed space. Or he's out running to let off steam.

There's no note where he usually leaves one, so you send him a text saying you're home, and crawl into bed.

Steve isn't home the next day, either. The text you sent him last night goes unanswered. You send a message to Nat, asking if she's heard from him. You wait, and wait, and she doesn't respond either. You huff, before you portal to Steve. Wherever it takes you, he better have a good reason for avoiding you.

**

"I'm sorry - wait," your hands fly up and try to stop everyone from talking all at once. "One at a time. I- ok…" You pinch the bridge of your noise and let out a sigh.

"Let Scott explain. Again," Nat says. Suffice it to say, you found Steve. Natasha and Scott Lang - who everyone thought died in the Snap - arguing in the conference room at the compound.

Scott was - apparently - in the Quantum Realm, for the last 5 years. But he said time passed so differently where he was. It only felt like 5 minutes. He's on his 4th sandwich.

"No, I get the Quantum Realm and the time differences. It's not that hard to comprehend. The fact you survived and came out the other end is a miracle," you glance around, and everyone's giving you an odd look. You roll your eyes, "Please don't tell me you all forgot I majored in this stuff? I had an internship at SI because of my thesis?"

"Didn't you lose that internship -"

"Not important!"

"No - yeah, totally. I get that all the time," Scott says. "People assume I don't know basic physics or relativistic effects all because I'm a felon." He stops for a beat. "I - I'm not now…though…"

"What he's saying is that we can fix this," Nat waves her hand around, "fix everything. Like the last 5 years never happened."

"You want to travel back in time to stop Thanos?" You gawk at them. Then turn your eyes to Steve. He hasn't said a word to you since you arrived. You shake your head. "That's not how Quantum Physics works!"

"Then we go back and get the Stones before he can," Steve finally speaks up. "You went back. Do you think you made things worse?" He squares his shoulders and crosses his arms over his chest.

"I- I didn't know I was going -" Your voice is small when you respond. Does he really think that? "I thought I was going to - I would rather have died than let Thanos get that Time Stone. I thought I was dead!"

Steve's eyes soften, his shoulders deflate, and his lips part. Before he can speak up, you continue. "I don't know what you went through on Earth back then. But you have no idea what we went through on Titan."

Steve scoffs, "Of course this is about Tony -"

"It's not about Tony! It's about you. It's always been you, Steve. Maybe one day you'll actually believe that."

You look at Nat and Scott, "the last 5 years did happen. And hey, maybe your idea for time travel will work. But you can't erase these last 5 years like they were nothing -"

"We ask Tony then -" Nat interrupts you, and you shake your head.

"You can't ask him to give up his family! The life he's had. He got out, and he's happy! Don't take that away from him," you're begging, pleading with them to understand. You need them to understand.

"What if -" Scott starts, "if we get the Stones, bring them here, and just -" he snaps his fingers. "Just bring the people back we lost?"

Nat nods and looks at you, "That could work, right? Y/N, please, we need Tony's help. Your help."

You sigh, pacing in a circle with your hands clasped around your neck as you hang your head, "If you can convince Tony…then I'm in. But if you can't…" you shake your head.

**

Nat and Scott were out the door headed for the car, and before Steve could follow, you grab his elbow.

"Can we talk?" You ask him. And when he just stands there, staring down at you, you pull him to the side. Steve puts his hands on his hips as he waits. He steps closer to you when you hesitate, brows scrunching and eyes searching your face. He sighs out of his nose, "Listen sweetheart -"

"Wait, please. I- I need to say this," Steve clamps his mouth shut and nods. "I love you, Steve," he goes to open his mouth but you continue before he can, "I do, and whatever this thing between us the last few days, whatever we've said and done, I want to just forget about. Can we do that? At least for now?"

You don't realize you're giving the best puppy dog eyes to Steve. Eyes a little glassy as you plead for him to listen, give this a do-over.

He swallows thickly, exhaling sharply from his nose, "Okay," he deflates, his fingers twitch at his sides like he wants to reach out for you. You step up to him, and when he doesn't move, you wrap your arms around his torso, resting your chin on his chest. Steve leans into you, arms circling your shoulders as he places a long, lingering kiss on your forehead.

After a long moment of holding each other, Steve hums, squeezing you once more, "C'mon, or Natasha will skin us where we stand."

**

The drive to Tony's was silent. Well, except for Scott filling said silence with random questions, answers to those questions, and random facts about his life. His kid, who was 5 years older since the last time he saw her. His girlfriend, whom he loves so much, was snapped.

The long gravel road leading towards the cabin finally comes into view, and when Steve pulls to a stop, Tony was already waiting on the porch - Morgan perched on his hip (you may have texted him a 'heads up, inc' text).

When you step out of the back of the car, Morgan waves at you, and you smile back.

"Hey, munchkin," you greet her as Tony sets her down. Morgan grabs your hand and goes to lead you inside. You glance over your shoulder to give Steve an apologetic look, but he isn't watching. His jaw clenched, and brows furrowed as he looks everywhere else, but you or Tony.

Before you could get inside, you pull Morgan to a stop, "I need to talk to your daddy for a while, okay, honey?" Morgan gives you her best pout and puppy eyes, but relents when you raise an eyebrow and goes inside to find Pepper.

**

Scott does most of the talking - okay, a lot of the talking. Hands flying about, trying to get his point across. Trying to get Tony to listen.

Tony responds with a lot of the points you made. Most importantly, "That's not how Quantum Physics works." And, "Back to the Future is a bunch of bullshit."

"You're telling me, that you won't even -"

"That's right, Scott. I won't even."

You're on the far side of the porch, away from everyone else, the three of them crowding around Tony. When there's finally a break in conversation, Tony turns to look at you. Eyes scrutinizing in only the way Tony can. Trying to piece together an equation when he always knows the answer.

"Y/N…" and the group turns to you. Hopeful eyes silently begging you to try. To help. Anything.

"Anthony." He inhales a deep breath, eyes scanning your face, then nods. The silent conversation doesn't go unnoticed by Steve.

"Right. You tried to convince her, and she said no, huh? Yeah…"

"Said I would if you did."

Steve scoffs, shaking his head. Before anyone else can say something, Morgan appears and crawls into Tony's lap.

"Mommy said to come and save you," you smile. Of course Pepper did.

"Good job, I'm saved," Tony hugs her, resting his head on hers. He stands and looks around the small group. "I wish you were coming here to ask me something else. Anything else. I'm honestly happy to see you - oh, the table is set for 7-"

Steve grabs Tony by the elbow as he passes, his brows low and eyes searching, "Tony. I get it. And I'm happy for you, I really am." He spares you a sideways glance before he continues, "But this is a second chance."

"I got my second chance right here, Cap," Tony looks at you with a sad smile. "You do, too. Can't roll the dice on it," he looks back at Steve and raises an eyebrow. Tony turns to make his way toward you, Morgan leaning over so you can take her.

"Hi, Princess Charlie," she says as she loops her arms around your neck and rests her head on your shoulder.

You kiss her temple, looking back at your friends, "Hi, munchkin."

"If you don't talk shop, you can stay for lunch," Tony calls. He leads you inside with a hand between your shoulder blades.

"You're staying?" Steve says as you're about to enter the cabin. You turn to him, Tony stops next to you and waits.

"It's just lunch, guys. Don't be rude," you roll your eyes at them.

"We need to do this. We have to do this, Y/N. With or without you and Tony."

"Go, it's okay, kid," Tony says next to you. "Come by tomorrow," he takes Morgan from you and goes inside.

"We'll see," you say through the screen door. You turn on your heel and head for the car. Steve, Nat, and Scott are following.

"He's scared," Nat says as they near you.

Steve sighs, "He's not wrong."

"We need him. What, are we gonna stop?" Scott stutters out.

"No, I wanna do it right."

**

You're sitting next to Scott in a booth at the diner. He can't seem to take his eyes off Bruce. Big, green, and fully clothed, Hulk-sized Bruce.

Across from you, you meet Steve's eye. There's a smirk on his face, and he nudges your foot with his. You smile at him around the straw of your milkshake. You bring a foot to rest on his knee, and he wraps a hand around your ankle. His palm is warm on your skin, and he squeezes as he focuses back into the conversation.

"Bruce," Steve interrupts, "about what we were saying."

Bruce nods, thoughtfully, "The whole, time travel do-over? Eh, it's outside of my area of expertise," he looks at you, an eyebrow raised.

You put your hands up, "Don't look at me."

Bruce chuckles, "Tony said no, so you did, too. Yeah, I figured. Why else come to me?"

You see Steve's nostrils flare. He rubs a thumb across your ankle a little before he stops.

"Tony has more to lose, I'm not going to pretend that I don't want to do this. I do. But Tony, Pepper," you shake your head, "Morgan? They're the closest thing I have to family. I won't do this without him, but I won't not help you either."

**

It takes most of the night, but you and Bruce finish the set up - per Scott's vague instructions - and had a haphazard machine connected to his really ugly van with the Quantum machine in the back.

"I think we're missing something," you grumble. There's so many cables that you aren't sure this is even the right type of machine you should have built. "Is that cable connected to anything? Is this?"

"Ah, it's fine," Bruce waves off. But he does double-check anyway. You make an uneasy noise in your throat, spinning around to do one last check.

"This is a terrible idea…" you mutter. "Time travel, whose idea was this -"

"Says the last who literally traveled through time."

"It was an accident!"

"Okay! Here we go, Time Travel test number one!"

It was not time travel. Not in the slightest.

"We pushed time through Scott, not the other way 'round!" You smash a fist on the console, a big groan leaving you as Bruce pats your back.

"I see this as an absolute win!" He grins. You and Nat share another groan, Steve walks out with his head hanging low. You decide to follow him outside.

He's standing next to a pillar when you catch up to him, a heavy sigh filling his chest.

"Penny for your thoughts, Tough Guy?" You stop next to him. His hands fall from his hips as he reaches for you, pulling you into his chest, and you go willingly. You hug him back and just revel in the silence.

"This has to work," he mumbles into your hair.

"It will," you squeeze him tighter. "It's just going to take some time." He pulls back to look down at you, eyebrows scrunching as he searches your face. His hand comes up to frame the right side of your face, thumb running along your bottom lip. You kiss the pad of this thumb and smile up at him. "And all we have is time."

In the distance, you hear tires screeching, the roar of an engine, more tires squealing around the bend. You and Steve follow the car as it speeds up to the building, passing you by then reversing to a stop in front of you. The tinted window rolls down, but you already have a feeling who it could be. The only person who it could be.

Steve wraps an arm around your shoulders as you both turn to face the car, "Tony," Steve nods.

"Hi, Tony," you smile at him.

"Cap, Auntie," he raises an eyebrow. He smirks as he gets out of the car. Your stomach does a flip. You know that glint in his eye, and you grin wide. His smirk grows when he glances at you. "Why the long face, Cap? Let me guess, he turned into a baby?" He leans back against the car.

"Yeah…Among other things. What are you doing here?-"

"Instead of pushing Lang through time, you pushed Time through Lang. The EPR Paradox. Somebody shoulda cautioned you against it."

"You did," Steve nods. You're just smiling at him. Because you know.

Tony looks at you over his glasses, "Oh did I? Well, thank god I'm here," he looks up at Steve. "Regardless. I fixed it." Tony says casually, showing the back of his hand. It looks like a watch, but it's around his hand. "I'm sure you would've figured it out, kid. Eventually." He winks at you.

"A fully functioning time-space GPS," he continues. Steve's face breaks out into a smile. "I just want peace," Tony holds up two fingers. He leans back again, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Turns out resentment's corrosive, and I hate it. And you're kinda dating my aunt, so…" he shrugs.

You groan and throw your head back, "Ugh, Tony!" Steve hooks his arm around you more, bringing your head into the crook of his elbow and more into his chest.

"We got a shot at getting these stones, but I gotta tell ya my priorities," Tony says more seriously.

"Bring back what we lost," you say, you can read him just as well as you could Howard.

"I hope, yes," Tony nods. "Keep what I found. I have to, at all costs. And maybe not die trying," he shrugs again. "Would be nice."

Steve hums. You wrap an arm around his waist as he sticks his hand out for Tony to shake, "Sounds like a deal."

You giggle, "Finally! Both the men in my life can get along!"

Tony pulls your arm, and Steve lets you go so he can crush you with a hug.

"What changed your mind?" you mumble into Tony's chest.

He hums, "A really good friend of mine. Oh, and," Tony lets you go to open the trunk, shoving aside a bunch of Morgan's things to reveal the shield.

Steve inhales sharply, "Tony, I don't know…" he looks at you out the corner of his eye and then back to Tony.

"Why… He made it for you," Tony tells him, then flips it around and places it on Steve's arm. "And, honestly. I gotta move it out of the garage before Morgan takes it sledding." When it's placed back on Steve's arm, you can see Tony tense for a second, hands clenching and releasing. You give him a small smile.

"Thank you, Tony," Steve says quietly.

Tony hushes him, "I didn't bring one for the whole team. We are getting the whole team, yeah?"

You let out an annoyed hum, "We're workin' on it."

**

You are sitting next to Rocket as he works on the - well, time machine - your brows furrow as you tilt your head. "But how…?" You squint your eyes again.

Rocket scoffs, "Well, when you lose basically everything, miss your shot to kill Thanos before he snaps half the universe into nonexistence, then when they think there might be a chance to get the Stones back," Rocket shrugs, soldering a piece of metal. "He kills Thanos, and it doesn't even mean anythin' cause the Stones were gone."

You hum sadly.

"And he thinks his people hate him, so. There's that, too."

"Maybe he just needs a hug? Depression is serious. It doesn't just, y'know, go away."

Rocket grumbles, "Yeah, well. Whatever keeps him here until we finish this, is fine by me."

You shuffle out from under the platform, "I'll be right back," you tell Rocket. He just waves you off with another grumble and annoyed side remark.

"Hey, Thor," you call out to him as you get closer. He pulls the sunglasses low so they sit on the tip of his nose, his mismatched eyes shine as he looks at you. He sways a little on his feet, his arms out stretched as he saunters towards you.

"My Starlight!" he wraps his arms around you and lifts you up. He audibly sniffles back tears. "I thought you were dead! Gods, what a relief. I am so glad to see you alive and well!" Thor waddles with you in his arms. You can see the beer on his breath, his beard and hair. Hell, maybe it's just coming out of his pores.

"Missed you, Big Guy," you pat his back.

"You're drifting left," Tony calls out as he passes the two of you. "One side there, Lebowski."

Thor puts you down and chugs heavily from the beer can in his hand, then belches. He puts his hands up when you and Tony share looks at him.

**

It's another few days of nonstop working on a literal time machine until it's ready for a test run. There are tendrils of anxiety that crawl up your sides for the five seconds Clint is gone. He comes back with a gasping breath of his daughter's name on his lips and a baseball mitt.

"It worked," he breaths out.

Before you know it, the plan to locate all the stones in the past is divided into groups:

Rhodey, Nebula, Clint, and Natasha go to space in 2014. Nebula and Rhodey are getting the Power Stone, while Clint and Nat fly to Vormir to get the Soul Stone.

Thor and Rocket are going to Asgard in 2013 for the Reality Stone, or the Aether, as Thor calls it.

Meanwhile, Steve, you, Tony, Scott, and Bruce are going to New York City in 2012. Loki's Scepter and the Tesseract are at the Tower, and Bruce is going to the Sanctum to retrieve the Time Stone.

You pull Bruce aside before you join the others on the platform, "Stephen isn't the Sorcerer Supreme in 2012," you watch his brows scrunch. "It's the Ancient One. And she won't give you the stone."

"What? We need that stone, Y/N," he whisper yells.

You put your hands up, "Convince her. She'll listen, trust me. You just need a good reason for her to trust you, and she'll agree."

The tendrils are back as you join the rest of your team on the platform. Steve grabs your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and squeezes. He gives you a reassuring smile. He doesn't let your hand go as he looks around the room at everyone.

"Five years ago, we lost. All of us. We lost friends…We lost family…We lost a part of ourselves," he squeezes our hand again. "Today, we have a chance to take it all back.

"You know your teams, you know your missions. Get the Stones, get them back. One round trip each. No mistakes. No do-overs. Most of us are going somewhere we know. But it doesn't mean we should know what to expect.

"Be careful. Look out for each other. This is the fight of our lives. And we're gonna win."

Steve looks over at Tony, a small nod and another squeeze to your fingers. "Whatever it takes. Good luck."

"All right, you heard the man. Stroke those keys, Jolly Green," Tony gives you a wink.

"Tractors engaged," Bruce calls out.

Natasha smiles, bouncing on her feet as her eyes meet yours. Bright green eyes gleam in the sunlight, streaming in from outside. It catches on her red and blonde hair, and you smile back at her. "See you in a minute," she winks at you.

**

New York City - 2012

It's loud, was your first thought arriving back in time. And then, it actually worked, was your second. "I forgot how loud the city could be," you say absentmindedly. Steve and Scott look back at you, "What?"

Tony chuckles out a breath, clapping a hand on your shoulder.

"Alright, we all have our assignments. Two stones uptown, one stone down. Stay low, and keep an eye on the clock."

A car flies through the air, and 2012 Hulk comes smashing down on a Chitauri soldier, jumping repeatedly on the car. Then, he runs away with a roar.

You turn and raise an eyebrow at Bruce, his cheeks dusting a dark shade of green.

You follow Steve through the back entrance of the Tower. The two of you were to secure the scepter, since your past selves wouldn't be anywhere around.

You both wait in the back stairwell, between floors 20 and 21. You'd portal to the floor you needed when Tony gives the all-clear.

Tony takes Scott up to the penthouse with him to keep the Tesseract in sight. You can feel it, even all the way down there.

"Is that cube supposed to glow like…" Scott starts.

"Like its breathing?" Tony finishes in a hushed voice. He sees 2012 you, huddled in on yourself near the bar away from everyone else in the room. You look wary, uncertainty floating in your eyes. You grip at the new scar on your chest with an iron grip. Your eyes never leave the Tesseract.

2012 you used powers you had no idea you could. Portaling to save Tony from falling out of that wormhole certainly scared you half to death. 2012 Tony approaches you quietly, offering you a drink. You take it with shaky hands, nodding once in thanks before you drain it dry.

"I forgot how unsure you used to be, Y/N," Tony says quietly in your comms. "But now look at you," you can hear the pride and the smile in his voice. Then he scoffs, "Mr. Rogers, I almost forgot that suit did nothing for your ass."

"No one asked you to look, Tony -" Steve rolls his eyes as you chuckle.

"It's ridiculous."

"I think you look great, Cap," Scott says. "As far as I'm concerned, that's America's Ass."

You burst out laughing then, your voice echoing up the stairwell. Steve bumps your shoulder with his hand, but he can't stop the smile that spreads across his face.

There's a loud bang from above, then the telltale roar and thundering stomp from Hulk.

"Okay, Cap, Stargate. I got your scepter. Just passing the 80th floor."

"On it," Steve grabs your hand and squeezes. You smile, then portal the two of you up to 75. Steve shakes his limbs out with a small shudder before he presses the button for the elevator.

"Head to the lobby," Steve tells Tony.

"Alright, see you there."

Steve stands tall, shield on his arm, and you beside him when the elevator opens. The two of you glance around the compact space. The men inside seem to hold their breath. Steve steps in first. He holds his hand out to stop you after he pushes a floor on the lift.

"C-Captain," Sitwell stutters. "I thought you were coordinating search and rescue."

"Change of plans," Steve says. "Meet me at the rendezvous, Agent Y/N," he lowers his hand and gives you a nod, his brows pulled low over his eyes.

"Sure thing, Cap," you give him a two-finger salute. "Rollins, Sitwell," your eyes land on the next man, you try to hide a sneer. "Brock." Then the doors close. You portal down to floor 14, the bridge to the R&D labs is where you're supposed to link back up with Steve.

You lean back against the wall and wait. There's a lot of commotion in your ear about the cube. Scuffling and whisper yelling. You feel the moment the case opens, you jolt off the wall just as Steve rounds the corner.

Then the Tesseract is gone, and you sag and hang your head.

"Tony, what's going on? Tell me you found that cube."

You rub your temples as you follow behind Steve. He comes to an abrupt stop, and you almost run into him.

"Oh, you gotta be shitting me," Steve mumbles. You peak around him, and your eyes go wide.

2012 Steve stands in your path, he brings a hand to his helmet, "I found Loki. 14th floor."

"I'm not Loki," your Steve says as he sets the scepter case down slowly. "I don't wanna hurt you."

They run at each other, shields clashing, past Steve does a fancy flip and kicks your Steve back, he lands on the ground.

Steve huffs, slowly climbing to his feet. "We don't have time for this, Cap…"

"I can do this all day," 2012 Steve smirks, bringing his arms up in defense.

"Yeah, yeah. I know," your Steve rolls his eyes as he gets to his feet.

They clash again, one of the Steves knocking the case with the scepter off the bridge, breaking glass as it goes over. They wrestle and roll off the side next, smashing through more glass and down a flight of stairs until they land on the bridge where the scepter stopped.

Ouch, that's a long way down.

You portal down next to your Steve, helping him stand. "You okay?" He huffs, stretching his neck and rolling his shoulders.

2012 Steve stands fast, his fist waving in the air, "Where did you get this?" He grits out, half yelling. When you look closely, it's an old black and white photograph of Peggy Carter inside an old compass. You inhale sharply, your Steve tenses next to you.

Before they start fighting again, you step around your Steve, hands out stretched to stop their advance. "Whoa, hey, hold on, Tough Guy..s?.. Uh - Steve?" You block your Steve from view, stepping in between them to face 2012 Steve. You aren't wearing what your past self is. The new cat suit you have on is reminiscent to the one Howard made you. It's black, with blue streaks along the sides, there's a shooting star on your chest over the scar. It glows a bright blue, letting the Tesseract power shine through it. Almost like Tony's Arc Reactor.

2012 Steve accesses you with a critical eye, his arms raised high, ready to fight as he grips the compass tight.

You give him a smile, putting one hand on your chest, "It's me, Stevie. It's Charlie," there's a flash of recognition that appears on his face, then hurt, his brows scrunch. Head slowly shaking no. You hear Steve's sharp inhale behind you, then a low warning of your name from his lips.

You ignore him and take another step closer to 2012 Steve. He tenses, "It's true. Ask me anything," his eyes scan your face, then down your body.

"This is another one of Loki's tricks. I won't fall for it," his shoulders lift like he's bracing for a fight, but you take another step closer anyway.

"I-I found you in an alley," you take another step, one hand out stretched toward him. "You were so small I thought you were a kid," you breathe out a laugh. "And then you rolled over, and it was you, before the serum, and the war," you're inches from him now. He lowers his hands, his eyes slowly glass over. "It was always you, Steve." He lets out a shuddering breath, your fingers graze his jaw lightly, then your palm cups his cheek. His eyes slip closed as he leans into your touch. You take the compass from his lip fingers.

"H-How?" He looks down at you, his hand wraps around your wrist to keep you tethered to him. "The- the other you, with Stark, she-"

You shake your head, "It's complicated. Give her time. She won't know for a while," you swipe your thumb along his helmet under his eye.

"You're not from here, are you?" His hand squeezes your wrist, to ground him maybe, to make sure you're real - probably. You just smile up at him.

"Y/N," your Steve calls from behind you. "We gotta go." You nod, but don't take your eyes off This Steve. You can tell he's torn. There's a storm of emotion raging behind his eyes.

You pull him down towards you, lips pressing to the corner of his mouth, "Tell her. She'll listen," you say against his skin. "Goodbye, Stevie." You step away from him and back to your Steve. He puts a hand on your shoulder, and you portal the two of you back to the alley you arrived in.

You step away from Steve, letting out a heavy breath you didn't know you were holding.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" he murmurs. You nod and hold out your hand, Steve hesitates, fingers twitching to take the compass in your hand. You don't look him in the eye.

"Just take it, Cap."

"I-" you shove it in his chest, and his hands fly out to catch it as you turn on your heel and march towards Tony and Scott.

They're camped out inside a debris covered car, and the windows rolled down. They look glum, pensive faces as they avoid your eye.

Tony glances up to look at Steve, then you and back again. "Sorry, buddy, we uh - got a problem."

Scott scoffs, "Yeah we do."

You take a deep breath, nodding, "Yeah, I figured. Tesseract is gone."

You sit on a large concrete slab, arms crossed over your knees as you look around the wreckage of the city.

"Well, now what are we gonna do?" Steve asks. Scott is pacing in circles, Tony leaning out of the car as Steve stands with his hands on his hips.

"Give me a break, Steve, I just got hit in the head with the Hulk."

Scott whirls around, arms flailing, pointing toward Steve, "You said that we had one shot. One shot. This was our shot! Six stones, or nothing. Six stones, or nothing!"

"You're repeating yourself, y'know that?" Tony glares. The two of them start bickering back and forth.

Steve shakes his head and sighs. He looks over at you, but you ignore him, ignore Tony and Scott. Ignore the looks Steve's trying to send you. "Are there any other options with the Tesseract?"

"No! There's no other options, no do-overs. There's one particle left. Each! We use that? Bye-bye, you're not going home."

You scrunch your brows as Scott talks, glancing over to Tony as his head lifts. He thought of something, maybe the same something you have. He looks over at you, getting out of the car. You stand and meet him halfway.

"I got it," Tony says. You nod, he grips your shoulders, his eyes wide, searching yours. "You got it?" He asks, you smile and nod again.

"What? What is it?" Scott and Steve seem to ask at the same time.

"More particles?" you ask Tony.

"Yep. There's a way to retake the Tesseract and acquire new particles. Little stroll down memory lane," he looks over at Steve then, "Military Instillation. Garden State." Tony squeezes your shoulders as he steps over to Steve, you follow.

It dawns on Steve then, "When were they both there?"

Tony stutters, fumbling over words as he thinks, "I have a vaguely exact idea…"

"It's a strong possibility," you say. "More yes, than no."

You can see Steve fighting with the idea, a yes over no warring on his face as he tries to agree. Scott's constant asking what's going on in the background of Tony trying to convince Steve more.

Steve sighs, "Well, looks like we're improvising. Scott, get this back to the compound," Steve moves to give him the scepter. Tony stops next to you, bumping his shoulder with yours.

"Wait! What's in New Jersey?"

"Put these coordinates in," Tony says as Steve joins you. "0-4, 0-7, 1-9-7-0," Tony swallows thickly.

"Are you sure?" Steve asks. He looks at you, "You don't have to go, Sweetheart." You ignore him as you put the date in your wristband.

Scott is still trying to get everyone's attention. You shrug, "Of course I'm going."

"Cap? Captain!…Steve, sorry - America. Rogers…" Tony and Steve look over to Scott. "You do this, and it doesn't work. You're not coming back."

"Thanks for the pep talk, piss ant. You trust me?" Tony looks at Steve. Steve looks at you, then back to Tony.

"I do."

"Your call."

"Here we go."

**

leave a comment if you'd also like to be tagged :)

tags: @valckenaux ; @yunloyal ; @otterlycanadian ; @frickin-bats ;

[thequietkid-moonie]

Their extrovert crush is a really good singer

[ HEADCANONS ] [ Marinette, Adrien, Luka ]

[ Miraculous Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir ]

× Inspired on Sarah (from Kaleido Star)

Im being really excited since I had this idea!! I just love it so much!!! Also, im bragging about one of my favorites characters 🙆🏻‍♀️ like, seriously, Sarah is ✨ amazing ✨

I thought in Ibuki too but I decided to keep it as just Sarah

Marinette Dupain-Cheng

It could be that Marinette personaly meet you in school or by casuality first, or that she gets interested in your music first and then meet you in person, no matter how it happen she will be really surprised by how different your personality it is with the angelic and soft voice you have while sing, she find it hilarious at first but as the time pass and she falls in love with you she start to see it more as a little quirk of yours that makes you more special!

Marinette loves your voice and is constantly hearing your songs (if she has to record your voice herself she will find a way to do it), specially when she is doing homework or working in her designs she has your music in the background (she swears that your voice inspire her) and sometimes even sings along with you, and is for sure that at least once she had fallen sleep while hearing your voice

Speaking of it, Marinette has a lot of drawings of you, drawings of you alone, with the diferents costumes of your presentations, drawings of you with designs she made specially for you and so on, but she keep it to only herself! (or at least try to), she will be really embarrassed if you ever find out about this (even when she daydream a lot about you using her designs)

If Marinette ever has the opportunity to heard you sing personaly is almost a miracle that she doesn't faint or even combust for how flustered she is or how her heart is beating so fast, but it would even more dificult for her to stay calm if she is physicaly close to you (like she just casually heard you sing or even hum, or that you do it for her)

She is always paying a lot of attention to news about you in social media, specially if you make a new song or are going to have a presentation, somehow she always know (and she tries to go)

Marinette is always shy and trip in her own words whenever you are around, so you being more extrovert and talktive is a good thing for her, but at the same time is really bad, it helps her that you has no problem with starting the conversation with her but it makes her really nervous that you two are actually talking, still she can't help but be atracted to you

Marinette can't just bring herself to say no to you, and sometimes she is to distracted with your beauty to even actually heard what you are telling her so whenever you invite her to do something she end up going with you to a strange training of any fighting style you are into, however she is too nervous to say something or decline so she just end up doing it anyways

Marinette will never let anyone talk bad about you, even if someone just think that you are a little weird she is quickly to stand up for you and defend you (even if you don't really mind their comments), also it could be that if people don't actually hear you sing they won't really believe it, in that case she will try to defend you too

When you express your admiration for Ladybug and Chat Noir she is incredibly flustered, she is between trying to say a lot of things at once and stuttering, when she finally manage to ask you she quickly become a flustered blushing mess for you saying how much you admire them for how they always bravery fight against the akumatized people and thanks to your words practically all her worries and insecurities completely vanish (at least for a while) and will be giggly braging about it with Tikki for a long time

Whenever she is fighting as Ladybug it isn't her intention but sometimes she has to save you or put you out of danger and everytime she gets really blushy and giggly. Also, it take a lot of self control and insistence of Tikki for her to not give you a miraculous at the first chance she has

Adrien Agreste

It could be that you two met from even before he has the opportunity to properly go to the school, since you are part of the world of entertainment by being a really good singer, it would be because it benefit him (making good to his image) or even that Gabriel has made exclusive designs for your presentations (at least once) that gives him the opportunity to meet you and his father won't really see a problem with it

Adrien is really happy with being able to have more friends, doesn't matter much your personality at first and even so he likes it, however he is too innocent to notice when his feelings started to change, when he wants to spend more time with you not only because you are his friend, or when your voice start to sound even more beautiful or even when he start to win more confidence and become a little more extrovert (at least when he is with you)

Adrien will be lying if he says he doesn't like your voice because he does, and he has no problem with saying it neither, everytime he heards you sing he likes to take a moment to fully apreciate it (sometimes even close his eyes to just focus in your voice) and when you finish he always compliments you, comparing you with an angel or with famous singers (make you flustered isn't his intention, but if he does he will be blushy too)

He isn't someone who judge someone just for their looks or title, so he knows better to don't just think that your voice is all of you, that is why when he start to know you better and find out that your personality is the complete opposite of your voice he is totally fine with it, he is initially surprised but quickly finds it funny and even kinda cute

Adrien is a more calm person so he normally just tent to follow your lead whenever you two are together, he doesn't really mind doing whatever you want (he will only complain if it would bring you troubles or something), it always makes his day better seeing you so happy (specially knowing that you are happy to be with him, it flattered him a lot, it even make him a little shy and blushy from time to time)

Is probably that you two hang out in his house a lot with the excuse to help each other with the practice (him the piano and you with the singing), the first time it happen was because you two were actually going to practice but just entering in his room you imediatly become super excited for how much things he has in his room to entertain himself, and he just watch you run around his room seeing everything he has, laughing in amusment waiting until you finally choose something to do (he never had love his room so much before)

He is surprised by the fact that even as being a singer with an angelic voice you are more into learning fighting styles, but then again he doesn't judge so he just talks to you about his fencing lessons and even a little about how he fight to akumatized people (without saying that he is Chat Noir, just saying that that is how he imagine it would be or something). And when you express your admiration for Ladybug and Chat Noir for their habilities to fight and all of that he becomes really flustered in a second, shyly but excited asking you for your opinion about Chat Noir

Speaking of it he won't really lost the opportunity to approach to you while being Chat Noir, either when doing patrol or to take you out of harm's way, while that he will be a little more flirty and confident and still he easily gets flustered

Once he is finally able to go to the school that will give him the opportunity to spend more time with you, and even then he prefers to follow your lead, at first it could easily be seen as that the two of you are just best friends but as the time pass his friends will notice that what he feels for you is more than a friendship and will try to help him to be with you

Luka Couffaine

Is more probably that Luka meet you before he even has the opportunity to heard you sing, even when he is more into the music what you sing isn't really the type of music he normally hear, however he may know that you are a singer, in any case Luka will be happy to meet you and he is rather friendly since the start

Luka is really friendly so it doesn't take much for you two to start being friends, he won't force you to sing for him if you don't want to, but he is more than happy to hear you do it, he is completely mesmerize by your voice, you truly have the voice of an angel and he has no problem with expressing how beautiful you voice is

He never lose a chance to heard you sing (even if you are just humming or even singing a song that you like and not one of yours it doesn't matter), he likes to take a moment to appreciate before laughing softly in amusment, however he loves it more when he has the opportunity to make you company with his guitar while you sing (he loves doing that, or even just playing something for you, it makes him feel closer to you)

Luka is totally up for making you company in your singing with his guitar while hanging out, however normally when he thinks on you he plays a melody more playfuly and faster than the normal music you sing and is something funny for him (he secretly hopes that you like it because is the way he express his feelings for you)

And just as he loves your voice he loves your personality, once he has the opportunity to truly meet you he finds pretty hilarious the contrast between your voice while singing and you extrovert and determined personality, although he doesn't judge you for non of them it just make you more amazing in his eyes (more than once he had joked about it too)

Both of you easily start a really good friendship so you two spend a lot of time together, and you are always welcome in his house (his mother is always encouraging you to just be yourself, no matter what other would think) and, of course, you are always invited to the practice of Kitty Section and they are completely happy with letting you sing with them if you ever want to take a break of your usual singing

Luka loves hearing you rant about whatever you are into, either the fighting style you are interest or the ideas you are having, and he is actually really interested in what you have to say, even ask more about it sometimes

Luka finds pretty funny that you are interested in learning to fight but still for him is something that make you even more interesting and special, he won't really accept your offers to learn and train with you but he doesn't mind making your company while you do so, if you let him he will like to practice with his guitar while you train (well thats an excuse, he is actually playing along with your training, expressing how much he likes to be with you in his song)

When you express your admiration for the superheros that protect Paris for how strong they are and because they always have the opportunity to actually fight he find it funny and ask you more about it (he will ask you your opinion about Viperion too, but he mainly wants to continue hear you talk so excited about what you like). Everytime he has to be Viperion again he always thinks on you, it flustered him a little but still tries to not get distracted while fighting

Luka isn't unaware of his feelings for you, he knows that he loves you pretty well, even when he doesn't say it out loud (but has no problem with doing it) he does express his love by other ways, like while playing music, with his compliments and sometimes even flirting, but specially by the lovestruck expression he has while looking you while you sing or even when you train, he just can't help but admire every part of you