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mrsmangi · 4 months ago

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maroon - luigi mangione

♡ summary: after months apart, luigi shows up at your door seeking refuge. your love for him lingers, remnants of the past, but so does the ache of his absence. ♡ w.c.: 5.7k ♡ a/n: it's been a long time coming. ever since i saw this post by @cherrysolo in january, i knew i had to do something about it. i've been working on this piece for months. hope you guys enjoy + thank you to mads for inspiring me to do this.

—

The knock on your door comes near midnight, sharp and panicked. Three raps, demanding and urgent. You freeze, heartbeat racing as you glance at the clock on the wall. 11:53.

The bitter, freezing cold has been raging on for hours outside. It seeps through the walls, making you curse at the broken thermostat in your apartment. You’re wrapped in a blanket on the couch, trying to focus on the novel in your hands when it happens. Another set of knocks follow after a moment of silence, louder, and your stomach twists with unease.

“(Name), it’s me.”

That voice. You stare at the door, breath catching in your throat. You get up, shivering as your bare feet hit the cold floor. When you open the door, the sight of him steals the air from your lungs.

“Luigi?”

He stands there, shoulders hunched against the biting cold, a green hooded jacket hanging open over his disheveled clothes. His face is pale, his dark brown eyes hollow with something you can’t distinguish–fear? Alarm? Exhaustion?

“I didn’t know where else to go,” he says quietly.

“What’s going on?” you ask, voice sharper than intended, eyebrows furrowing. He flinches. “You look like sh–”

“(Name),” he begins, but his voice dies in his throat as your eyes meet. He swallows thickly, licking his chapped lips and letting out a deep exhale. “I’m sorry, can I just–” He sighs once more, leaning his hand against the doorway for support. “Can I come in? Please.”

You stare at him for a long moment, hesitation bubbling in your stomach. He stares back, and your frown falters. There’s something about the way he begs you that makes your hesitation crack. Just the tiniest bit, but it’s enough to make you step aside.

“Come in.”

When he shuffles his way inside your apartment, you shut the door behind Luigi. It closes with a soft click. He shrugs off his coat, his movements stiff. You take silent notice of the way his hands tremble slightly, but say nothing as you guide him to the couch. His body sinks into it heavily.

You stand behind your kitchen counter, as if to shield yourself from coming too close to him. You haven’t seen this man in months, then he decides to show up at your doorstep in the middle of the night. He looks so different, yet still the same.

His flushed cheeks look sunken, dark curly brown locks unkempt and outgrown, and every movement he’s making is jerky and erratic. You reach for the bottle of red wine you had opened earlier, watching him closely as you pour yourself a fresh glass. He remains still, aside from the shaking of his body from the cold.

“What are you doing here, Luigi?”

He doesn’t look up immediately, sighing slowly, sounding strained. When he does meet your eyes, he looks ashamed, or maybe that’s regret. Either way, something uncomfortable stirs within you.

“I needed somewhere to go,” he says.

“That’s not an answer.”

“I know,” he says, gaze dropping to the floor. His hands fall to his lap and he rubs his palms together. “I just…I didn’t know where else to go.”

“How about home? To your mother who’s been worried sick about you?” you snap at him, words sharp. “You left, Luigi. Months ago. Without a word. No one knew where you were. Your mom called me, your dad, your roommate, your friends. We thought you were dead, and now you’re back, in the middle of the night, looking like you’ve just seen a fucking ghost. You have to give me something more than just that.”

He flinches, lips pressing together. You almost think he might not answer you, but then he sighs again, shoulders slumping further.

“I’ll explain,” he says quietly. “But not yet. Not tonight, (Name).”

Your anger flares within you again, but it’s dampened by the exhaustion written all over his face. He looks so fragile, so lost. You set the glass down and cross your arms instead of demanding more information.

“You don’t just get to show up and ask me to pretend like everything’s fine,” you say, tone softer but no less firm.

“I know,” he mutters, head dropping into his hands again. “I’m sorry.”

You pick up the glass again, your fingers brushing against the cold surface before you take a long, slow sip. He’s here. For better or worse, Luigi is, at last, someplace akin to home, and you can’t ignore the part of you that’s relieved, even in all your annoyance.

“What do you want, Luigi?” you ask. It’s the million dollar question–the one that’s been hanging over your head ever since you let him walk through your door. It hangs in the air, heavy and oppressive, filling every inch of space between you. You grip your wineglass so tightly you almost think it might break, the stem cool and firm against your fingers. It grounds you now when everything feels so precarious.

He doesn’t answer right away. He looks worn to the bone. You hate the part of you that wants nothing more than to cross the room and touch him, smooth down the unruly curls that fall into his face, press your hands to his cheeks just to see if he’s real. It’s all you’ve dreamed of for months since he left, but you don’t move. You stay rooted behind the kitchen counter, observing him.

Eventually, Luigi leans back against the couch, shoulders sagging. His gaze drops to his fidgeting hands, as if he’s trying to work out what to say. When he finally lifts his head, the air in the room shifts. It feels like you’re staring at a stranger, but the only indication that this is your beloved–from all those months ago–are his eyes. Dark, glassy, and haunting, like he’s been hollowed out from the inside. Shame clings to him, evident in the way his gaze flickers to yours and back. Exhaustion is settled in the creases of his brown, etched into his face, giving his already pale complexion a ghostly hue. His mouth opens slightly, as if he’s about to speak, but he says nothing. He presses his lips together again. Looking down, he continues to fidget, fingers curling against the fabric of his jeans. Eventually, he exhales and when he speaks, his voice is hoarse.

“I just need to be here with you.”

Your first instinct is to scoff, but you hold your tongue. The urge to demand more, to yell at him for how little those words give you after everything you’ve been through is overbearing. But something in the way he speaks, in the crack of his voice like he’s unraveling with every syllable spoken, stops you.

He doesn’t look away, either. His eyes hold yours, unflinching and sincere, and it makes you hold your breath. There’s no pleading in his stare, no attempt to coerce or manipulate. He’s stripped himself bare and it unsettles you in his vulnerability. He isn’t asking for forgiveness–he isn’t even asking for understanding. He’s just telling the truth, as insufficient and messy as it is.

Your anger still bubbles at the edges, but beneath it lays an ache you refuse to name. The part of you that was hurt by his disappearance, the part that spent sleepless nights wondering why he left and if it was your fault, wants to lash out. But it’s overtaken by the part of you that aches for him.

“You can’t just say something like that and expect me to be okay with it,” you say, voice quiet. You know you sound like a broken record, repeating itself over and over again, but you continue anyway. “You can’t just show up, months later, and tell me you need to be here. It’s not enough, Luigi.”

“I know it's not enough,” he murmurs, “but it’s all I have right now.”

His admission takes the fight out of you, leaving you feeling unmoored. You stare at him, chest tightening at the sigh of him so utterly broken. Luigi has always been the one who seemed untouchable in your group of friends. The one who always held himself together, even when things were falling apart. But this man–the one sitting on your couch, trembling as he struggles to hold himself upright–feels like a stranger and someone you’ve always known simultaneously.

You sigh, a sound heavy with resignation, and reach for a second glass. The wine bottle feels cold in your hands as you pour, rich red liquid swirling in the light. You hesitate when your fingers brush the stem of the glass, debating whether or not to even hand it to him. But when you look back at him, your resolve cracks.

Wordlessly, you walk over and set the glass on the coffee table in front of him, careful not to let your hand linger too close to his. “Here,” you say softly, voice losing its edge. “Just for tonight.”

He looks at the glass like it’s a foreign object, fingers twitching before he reaches for it. His grip is cautious, careful, like it might shatter in his hands. “Thank you,” he says. You have to force yourself to look away from him. You retreat to the far end of the couch, keeping the space between you intact, and pick up your own glass. You take a large gulp, the rich red wine burning slightly as it slides down your throat. Your gaze flickers to him from the corner of your eye.

He doesn’t drink right away. Luigi only stares into the glass, his thumb tracing its rim absentmindedly. He keeps his expression tight, jaw clenched like he’s holding something back.

“What happened to you, Lu?” you ask finally, the nickname slips out without you even realizing it. It feels strange in the space between you–something familiar weighted with everything that’s changed. You’ve grown so much through your grief over Luigi the past few months.

The fact that you’ve used the affectionate nickname doesn’t go unnoticed. His grip tightens on the glass, knuckles whitening. His shoulders flinch, a small crack in the wall he’s been holding up since he got here. He still refuses to look at you.

“Not tonight,” he says after a long pause, voice strained. “Please, (Name). Not tonight.”

You want to argue. You want to push him, to demand answers, but the fragility of his figure keeps you quiet. You exhale slowly, taking another large sip of your wine before setting it down with a soft clink. It feels louder than it should in the quiet of your living room.

“Fine,” you say with resignation, but with a lingering edge. “But just to be clear, this doesn’t mean we’re fine.”

He nods, movement small and tired. “I wouldn’t expect it to,” he murmurs. He lifts the glass to his lips, taking a hesitant sip, and for the first time tonight, you see the faintest hint of relief on his face.

Without another word, you push yourself up from the couch. Luigi doesn’t react, doesn’t even look at you as you make your way into the kitchen. The bottle of wine is right where you left it, nearly half-empty on the counter. You grab it by the neck and return to the living room, placing it on the table with a resolute thud.

Luigi looks up at it for a moment, then back up at you, brow faintly creased in question.

“There’s no way I’m doing this shit sober,” you mutter, half to yourself. You keep your voice low, but the edge of humor doesn’t quite hide your weariness.

Luigi’s lips twitch–just barely–into something that almost resembles a smile. It’s the most human he’s looked since walking through your door, but it fades just as quickly as it appears. He looks back down at his glass, silent once again.

You sink back into your spot on the couch, pulling your legs up underneath you. The tension in the room remains thick, but for now, you have wine and Luigi is here. It’s not much, but it’ll have to do.

–

Your parents always said stubbornness was not your strong suit. You used to roll your eyes at that, sure that they were wrong, brushing it off as another one of their critiques disguised as wisdom. But lying here now, with your feet comfortably resting in Luigi’s lap, you’re beginning to see how right they were.

You can’t recall the exact moment when your resolve–once so firm–crumbled. Not long ago, you sat stiffly, an arm slung around yourself, forcing yourself to keep a cautious distance. Yet, with each passing sip, Luigi grew more comfortable. Chatty. He began talking more and more, until you found that you couldn’t help but reply.

The thought of letting him this close seemed impossible, but here you are: sinking into the couch while his hand lingers absently on your ankle, his laugh filling the room like it belongs here. Like he belongs here.

He’s talking about something–voice warm and animated, punctuated by the wide gestures that shake your legs with each movement–but you aren’t really listening. It’s not that you don’t want to, you do; it’s just hard. Hard to focus when your mind keeps circling back to how dangerous this is.

The alcohol hums softly in your head, a light buzz that blurs the edges of your thoughts just enough to make everything feel softer, warmer. It’s not unpleasant–if anything, it’s making it easier to let go, to let yourself sink into the ease of this moment. Maybe that’s why Luigi seems different tonight, or maybe it’s not the wine at all. Maybe it’s just him—the real him, more like the person you used to know. Your Luigi.

“...and then I smashed it right against my head. I swear, the entire party lost their minds,” he says, voice breaking through your haze.

You blink, drawn back to the present. “Wait. You smashed what against your head?”

“A beer can,” he says smugly, leaning back into the couch as if he’s just declared himself king of the world.

A laugh bursts from your lips before you can stop it, but you clamp a hand over your mouth anyway. “No way. You didn’t.”

“I did,” he insists, grin widening. “Cracked it open and chugged it right after. Total alpha move.”

You shake your head, rolling your eyes, but your lips twitch against your will. “You were such an attention seeker at Penn. I swear, it’s all making sense now.”

“Oh, don’t even start,” he counters, pointing at you. “You’re not exactly innocent, miss ‘let’s bar-hop and turn every table into a dance floor.’”

Your jaw drops. “That’s not fair! I wasn’t that bad.”

“Not that bad?” he echoes, feigning shock. “You climbed on top of a table at Bonner’s, in heels, and danced until I had to physically get you down. And what happened? You fell. We both ended up on the floor. Don’t act like you forgot.”

You’re laughing again, and tears prick the corner of your eyes. “Oh, my God. I did forget. How did we even end up on the floor?”

He pauses, brow furrowing in mock thought. Then, he grins. “Cheap-ass vodka, that’s how.”

You chuckle and shake your head, leaning back into the cushions. When you glance back at Luigi, he’s already looking at you, eyes soft and crinkled at the corners, his grin lingering.

“God,” you say, still smiling. “That was such a mess. I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Of course I do,” he says, tone lighter now, almost fond. “You were so drunk you tried to argue with me about how unfair gravity was while we were on the floor.”

Your laughter bubbles up again, shaking your shoulders as you bury your face in your hands. “I didn’t.”

“You did,” he says firmly, leaning forward and shifting to make himself more comfortable. “And then you said, ‘You know what? If you were a gentleman, you’d carry me home.’”

You lower your hands just enough to peek at him, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Did you?”

He sighs, shrugging. “What can I say? I’m a gentleman.”

Your smile grows into a grin. You swat at his leg with your foot, but he doesn’t move it, tracing his thumb over your ankle tenderly.

Somewhere in the background, the music shifts, something slower and softer spilling from the speakers, and it takes you a moment to even remember where it’s coming from. Glancing up, you spot the vinyl record spinning on the turntable you had dusted off earlier in the evening. Its needle hums along grooves you’d forgotten existed. You’d put it on after your second glass of wine. The faint, sweet scent of incense drifts through the room, wrapping itself around you. You must have lit it too, though the memory of doing so feels hazy, distant. Its smoke curls lazily in the soft light of the living room. Everything about this moment makes it feels like it exists outside of time.

Luigi glances at you then, his grin fading into something more gentle. His gaze flickers briefly to the record player before coming back to you, eyes warmer than they have any right to be. And then, without a word, he stands. He doesn’t look away from you as he holds out a hand, palm up, inviting and patient.

“Dance with me,” he says.

Your heart stutters, eyes flickering between his face and his hand. For a moment, you hesitate, the weight of everything pressing against your chest. You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t. You said it best yourself, Luigi has no right to behave this way after leaving for what feels like so, so long. He left his entire life behind. Left you.

The soft crackle of the vinyl and the faint scent of incense, giving you the courage to take it.

You reach out just enough for your fingers to hover above his, the space between them barely there. The hesitation is instinctive, a reflex that comes without a second thought. You brush against the palm of his hand lightly. He doesn’t move, doesn’t press, but you see the subtle way his fingers shift, like he’s waiting for you.

The moment stretches. You should pull away.

Instead, you take a deep breath and slide your hand into his. He pulls you to your feet gently. The coolness of the hardwood floor stirs you in your drunken haze as he guides you into a slow sway. His hand settles at your waist and the air feels fuller, heavier, though not stifling.

He holds his glass of red wine in his other hand and you do the same. The music swells faintly, slow, and you sway together. The alcohol hums through your veins, loosening the tension in your shoulders as you dance with Luigi. You move in sync with small, subtle steps, his breath slows, matching yours without intention. Then, he moves closer, carefully, cheek brushing against yours. His face rests lightly against yours and you feel the faintest warmth of his skin, the barely-there graze of his stubble as he turns his head slightly, angling into the contact.

Your breath catches and your eyes flutter closed. You allow your head to tilt just enough for your cheek to press more fully against his. The scent of him–faintly woodsy, clean, with a trace of citrus–fills the miniscule space between your bodies, stirring a flood of memories you hadn’t let yourself think of in months. You grip your glass of wine a little tighter.

His glass remains in his other hand, rim brushing lightly against your shoulder as you sway. The subtle clink of glass against glass as your movements bring you closer feels intimate. His thumb brushes over your waist gently, absentmindedly. The warmth of him spreads through you, his cheek flush against yours, his breath soft and even, grazing your temple with each inhale. It’s so wrong, but it feels so right. Everything is as it should be.

Luigi is home. He’s with you.

“Careful,” he murmurs softly, almost teasing, as your glass tips slightly with the sway of your steps. His voice is so close it sends tremors through you, and you can’t help but chuckle quietly. The sound catches somewhere between amusement and relief.

“Don’t let me spill,” you whisper, lips barely moving.

“I’ve got you,” he says, voice low. Something about the way he says it makes your chest tighten. Maybe it is the wine, or the warmth of his figure pressed to yours, or how his voice settles over you like a quiet vow–but for the first time, in a long time, you let yourself believe.

You’ve never realized how much you’ve missed feeling safe, how long you’ve felt like you’ve been carrying the weight of everything on your own. The sense of safety doesn’t come from having walls over your head or keeping people at arm’s length to protect yourself. It’s a different kind of security–one that is unspoken and simply just there. It’s present, it’s solid. Tangible.

Luigi says nothing else, doesn’t try to fill the silence with empty reassurances or excuses. He just keeps dancing with you, movements slow and sure, grip never faltering.

You’re not sure how long you stay that way, pressed together in the soft glow of the living room, swaying in rhythm in the music. You allow for your cheek to nestle against his, his warmth seeping into your skin. You wonder if you’ve even realized how much you needed this.

It happens then: your bare foot slips slightly against his, and you stumble. His hand catches yours, but not before his wine tips, splashing into your shirt. It stains your shirt in a sharp contrast against the white fabric, soaking through in an instant.

“Fuck–” you curse, flinching away from him as if you’ve just been burned. The wine is cold against your skin, seeping into the fabric, making it cling to your skin uncomfortably. Your hands instinctively grasp at the ruined shirt, pulling it slightly away from your body. You feel exposed.

“Oh, shit,” Luigi mutters, voice tight with guilt and eyes wide. His gaze flick down to the stain, then back up to you. He moves to set his glass down with a dull clink against the coffee table, hands reaching for you instinctively. “I’m sorry. Here, let me–”

His fingers ghost over the fabric of your ruined shirt, but you flinch away before he can do anything, stepping back, blood rushing to your cheeks. Something in you snaps and the spell is broken.

Everything–the heat of his hands, how you let yourself fall into him, the reckless abandon of letting him touch you again, letting yourself want him again–it all evaporates, as if the wine itself is an alarm jolting you back to reality.

What the fuck were you doing?

Your pulse pounds against your skull as the moment rewinds in your head, over and over–his voice in your ear, his hands on your waist, you nestling into him like he had never gone anywhere. Like he didn’t abandon you.

You stumble back, shaking your head, feeling the cold seep in deeper. “I need to clean up.” Your words come out quick, breathless, barely controlled.

Luigi blinks, brows knitting together. “Hey–”

You don’t wait for him to finish. You turn away, moving fast, not stopping until you’re down the hall, until your hands find the bathroom door and push it open. The moment you’re inside, you shut it behind you. Not slamming it or locking it–but closing it with a finality that should be obvious: Don’t follow me.

Your breath comes in short, uneven bursts.

You tear off your shirt and toss it onto the sink. It hits the counter with a dull thwap, the fabric crumpling in a dark, wine-soaked mess. The air in the bathroom is colder than the rest of the house, the chill biting against your bare skin. Standing in your bra, you grab a towel, dampening it under the faucet, and begin to blot the stain. You squeeze your eyes shut. Your heartbeat feels erratic and there’s a ringing that sounds too loud in your ears. The heat of the water running over your fingers makes you wince, but you focus on the task.

The wine seeped deep into the fibers of your white shirt, blooming like bloodstains. You sigh, shaking your head as you rub harder, feeling your frustration rise. The stubborn stain refuses to fade.

Your reflection catches your attention and your hand stills against the t-shirt. There’s a faint flush on your cheeks. You have a feeling it’s not from the alcohol or the cold–that it’s from something more, but you brush it off, scrubbing at your shirt harder than before.

You try to focus on getting the stain out, but your thoughts keep betraying you, drifting back to the feeling of Luigi’s hands in yours just minutes earlier. You sigh, shaking your head.

This is such bullshit.

The knock at the door makes you jump.

“(Name)?” Luigi’s voice crawls from beneath the crack of your door, pouring into the bathroom.

You swallow, turning off the sink. “I’m fine.”

A beat of silence passes. Then, a soft click and the door opens.

You whip around, heart leaping in your throat. Luigi stands in the doorway. The air in the bathroom suddenly feels tense. The warm fluorescent light buzzes faintly from the bulb above your bathroom mirror. Harsh shadows accentuate the sharp angles of Luigi’s cheekbones and the hollows beneath his eyes. His pupils are blown wide, dark and unreadable, nearly eclipsing the warm brown of his irises. His gaze flickers, hesitant, from your face to the curve of your collarbone, then lower, lingering on the wine-stained skin just above the edge of your bra.

His shirt is wrinkled and hangs off him loosely. His hands are in his pockets, silhouette cutting out an imposing figure against the soft lights of the living room behind him.

“Luigi,” you say, intending for his name to leave your lips firmly, but it’s anything but. “What are you doing?” Your voice is soft under the weight of his stare. You cross your arms instinctively, but it does little to hide your bare, exposed skin.

He steps inside, slowly, like he’s giving you the chance to stop him, to push him away. You don’t. He nears, his presence consuming the small space between you.

“Helping,” he says simply, his lips quirk into a faint, humorless smile. His eyes drop again, and the way they trail over you–tauntingly, deliberately–makes your breath hitch. “Isn’t it obvious?”

You ignore the warmth blossoming between your legs, pressing your back against the sink to create distance between you. Towel still in your hand, you clutch the porcelain behind you.

“You’re drunk,” you murmur, but the words come out weak, like a half-hearted protest that not even you, yourself, believe.

“Maybe,” he mutters, taking another step closer. His smile fades, replaced by something darker, eyes falling to linger on your collarbone once more.“You’re beautiful, (Name).”

“Luigi–”

Danger, you hear something that sounds like your voice whisper in your head.

“Let me help,” he says gently, hand reaching out. His long, slender fingers brush yours, warm and rough, as he takes the towel from your slackened grip. He never looks at the towel, though. His focus remains entirely on you. His touch is hesitant, careful, as he dabs at your wine-stained skin. It doesn’t do much, but his hands linger, thumb brushing against the curve of shoulder.

Danger.

“This isn’t helping,” you finally breathe, voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

Danger.

“No,” he agrees, his voice dropping lower, rougher. His eyes flicker up to meet yours. Your knees feel weak. The towel slips from his hand, forgotten, as his hands slide to your waist, fingers curling against your bare skin. “It’s not.”

Da–

And then his lips are on yours, cutting off your final thought.

It’s not gentle. It’s desperate–a collision that leaves you gasping. He pulls you against him with an urgency that sends a shock through your entire body. His large hands grip your waist tightly as though he’s afraid you might slip away. The feeling of his chest pressed against yours sends a jolt of warmth through you.

Your hands move instinctively, one threading into his dark curls, the other tugging at the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. He groans against your mouth, the sound low and guttural, vibrating against your lips. He understands your silent demand, leaning back to lift his shirt over his head and toss it aside. His toned figure is revealed to you, but you barely have time to process it as he captures your lips in his again.

The kiss deepens, growing hungrier and messier, as though the months of silence, pain, longing, are all spilling out. His teeth graze your lower lip, tugging gently before his tongue slides against yours, hot and insistent.

Then, without warning, his hands shift to your thighs, gripping firmly as he lifts you onto the sink.

You gasp into his mouth, hands clutching his shoulders as he steps between your legs, pressing himself closer. The cool surface of the mirror against your back is a harsh comparison to the heat of his hands, his body, his mouth. His lips leave yours for only a moment, trailing down the line of your jaw to the sensitive spot beneath it, on your neck. His breath is hot and ragged, and you tilt your head, giving him more access as his lips continue to move lower.

“Luigi,” you breathe, voice trembling once his mouth reaches your collarbone. The wine he had feebly dabbed at earlier still remains. He pauses there, breath ghosting over your skin, warm. Then, he presses his lips to the curve of your shoulder, slowly, before he presses his tongue flat against your flesh, licking upward in one long stripe to the curve of your shoulder. You moan, hands falling to wrap around his back, nails digging into his skin.

His tongue is warm and wet, tracing the edge of the stain, unhurriedly. It swipes over your skin with deliberate care, tasting the faint sweetness of wine that lingers there.

“You taste so good, dolcezza,” he moans. The compliment makes your stomach flutter, heat blossoming in your lower abdomen as he tilts his head. He licks the wine off your collarbone until none remains, then bites at the spot where your collarbone curves into your neck. Luigi sucks at your skin gently, teeth indenting into you, leaving their mark. His tongue soothes the spot immediately, lips following with soft, open-mouthed kisses against your neck that make your head spin. His hands on your waist tighten, thumbs brushing over your ribs deliberately, as if he’s attempting to memorize the shape of you.

“I missed you,” he mutters against your skin. His forehead rests briefly in the crook of your neck. He pants softly. “God, I’ve missed you so fucking much.”

The coarseness of his voice cuts through the haze of passion. They tug at the parts of you that have been angry and hurt.

You love him. God help you, you love him.

You want to tell him just how much you’ve missed him, too, how his absence has felt like an open wound ever since he disappeared in September. He chose to leave and you spent months telling yourself you would never be in this position again–that you would never let him ruin you. You could scream at him for the pain he’s caused you, to let him know just how unbearable these days without him have been, how you never want to go back to that time of your life ever again. You could reprimand him for the real, shitty fucking legacy he forsook in his place. But instead, you close the distance between you.

The bathroom still feels too small, the light casting a glow over the tangled mess of emotions between you, but it doesn’t matter now. As Luigi continues to kiss you, pressing his mouth against yours, the anger and questions you’ve carried all these months fade away. For now, the fact that he’s here is enough.

He pulls back abruptly, forehead resting against yours, breath mingling with your own. His eyes, dark and searching, meet yours, and there’s something unspoken–it feels like a question and an apology.

“We can’t stay here,” he murmurs to you. A smile creeps onto his face, and a glimmer of the man you knew before the distance and silence shines through. “Unless you really like this sink.”

You laugh gently, arms unhooking from his back to tangle themselves in his hair again. “I must admit, it’s not the most comfortable spot.”

He straightens slightly, his hands sliding to the backs of your thighs. He hoists you in his arms. Your arms loop around his neck instinctively.

“Luigi, your back–”

“I’m okay,” he reassures you, cutting you off with a kiss. “I’m alright.”

His grip is steady, movements careful, and he carries you out of the bathroom, walking to your bedroom. When he reaches the doorway, he pauses, gaze falling to yours, silently waiting for your permission.

You nod and he steps inside. Luigi lowers you onto the bed and you sink into the plush of the mattress. He lingers for a moment, his hands still on your waist. Grabbing his arms, you scoot further up the bed, dragging him with you. He hovers above you, then he leans down to kiss you again, slower this time. His hands trail from your waist to cradle your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks.

“You’re sure?” he whispers against your lips. His voice sounds so quiet, it’s almost lost to the silence of your room.

Instead of answering, you only pull him closer, fingers weaving into his hair, tugging him back into a kiss that says everything your words can not. His body presses into yours, the space between you disappearing entirely. His hands never leave your skin, lips continuously tracing paths that leave you breathless. He melts into you, and you into him. That night, he turns your bedroom into a sanctuary, a place of worship.

The incense you burn on your vinyl shelf in the living room is long forgotten.

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22ayla21 · 4 months ago

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Hiiii~ I really like your Amphoreus men trio posts a lot, so I'm gonna request something.

I've been craving for spicy noodles while thinking of (one of) them and was thinking, what if their wife has some crazy spice tolerance? Of course, she would only make one dish for herself only (she wouldn't want them to die),until they questioned it and found out one of the kids inherited her spice tolerant.

Fiery Inheritance

His wife is quite the fan of herbs and spiciness, but it turns out these genes were passed on to one of her children.

Appetizing aromas filled the kitchen—a mix of spices, stewed meat, and fresh herbs. Mydei's wife deftly wielded a knife, chopping vegetables, while a pot of fragrant sauce simmered on the stove. Today was a special family dinner, and, as always, she was cooking with love.

She had long known the golden rule: not to make it too spicy for the others. Although she herself could easily eat something that would make the gods cry, her husband and children had varying levels of spice tolerance. So, the usual balance had been worked out over the years—a delicate, fragrant, slightly spicy dish for everyone, and a hellish fiery concoction for herself.

But today, she discovered something unexpected.

"Mom, can I have some more sauce?" her middle daughter held out her plate, almost empty. His wife smiled, taking the ladle.

"Of course, dear."

But then she noticed something strange.

The middle daughter scooped up a spoonful and… without blinking, calmly put a piece of meat soaked in the scorching sauce from her personal plate into her mouth.

His wife froze. Mydei also froze, watching his daughter like an exotic animal.

"You…" his wife narrowed her eyes. "It's not spicy for you?"

The daughter shrugged.

"Well… a little." She paused, then added, "But it's tasty!"

Mydei dropped his fork. His wife felt a surge of pride.

She carefully put down her spoon and looked intently at her daughter, as if seeing her for the first time.

"You mean it's okay for you?"

"Yep." The girl smiled cheerfully. "Can I add some more pepper?"

Mydei raised his hands.

"No-no-no, wait, your mother can eat lava, but you…"

"No, wait," his wife smiled predatorily. "Let her try."

Mydei watched in horror as his wife generously added more spices to her daughter's plate, and she continued to eat with gusto, not even wincing.

"Great stars…" he muttered. "She's definitely your daughter."

His wife patted her daughter on the shoulder with a proud smile.

"Welcome to the club."

The middle daughter giggled happily, while Mydei clutched his head. Now there were two people in the family capable of consuming pure flame.

"We're all doomed," he whispered. But his wife only smirked, scooping up another spoonful of her fiery dinner. Now she knew exactly who would inherit her secret family recipe.

The smell of spices filled the kitchen, mingling with the aromas of stewed meat, herbs, and seasonings. Anaxa's wife deftly handled a knife, chopping greens, while a stew simmered on the stove. She always maintained a balance of flavors for the family—enough spices to enhance the taste, but not enough to burn. However, her own plate was a different story.

She carefully set aside the communal pot and took her portion. Hot peppers fell into her plate one by one—red, green, even a rare blue one that promised a truly fiery taste. Black pepper sprinkled thickly, followed by spices that burned even from a distance.

"Just right," she thought with satisfaction, stirring the explosive mixture. But as soon as she took a spoonful, a voice sounded nearby.

"Mom, can I try?"

She raised her head and met the shining eyes of her youngest son. The child looked at her plate with lively interest, not with horror like the other family members.

"Are you sure? It's… very spicy."

He just nodded impatiently.

Anaxa's wife brought the spoon to her son's mouth, watching his reaction. The other children and even Anaxa himself froze with curiosity. They were ready to see tears, panic, or at least a hiss from the burning. But the boy just chewed slowly, and then… beamed.

"Tasty!"

Silence fell in the room. The older children exchanged shocked glances, and Anaxa frowned, as if his world had cracked.

"He's like her…" the father muttered barely audibly. His wife smirked, gently ruffling her son's hair.

"Looks like you take after me."

And at that moment, Anaxa realized that even more extreme culinary experiments awaited their home.

The kitchen smelled of spices. The pungent aroma of cardamom, coriander, and hot pepper filled the room, mingling with the haze of freshly cooked dinner. Phainon, standing at the threshold, watched as his wife deftly served soup into plates, habitually adding an extra handful of spices to her portion.

He was used to this sight. Since the beginning of their marriage, he had realized that his wife was not one to fear fire, at least when it came to food. The usual amount of spices for her was something trivial, so she always seasoned her portion in a way that would make anyone else's eyes pop out.

"How do you even eat that…" he once muttered, watching her calmly devour the blazing mess as if it were ordinary bread and butter.

She only smiled in response.

Today was no exception. But as soon as she looked down at her youngest daughter, something clicked in her head. The girl looked at her mother's dish with obvious interest, then at her own plate, and then, without further ado, took a spoon and, as if habitually, scooped from her mother's plate.

Phainon had already reached out to take the spoon away—he knew how strong the "fire" was and didn't want their child to suffer. However, his wife stopped him with a light wave of her hand, watching her daughter with genuine interest.

And then something incredible happened. The girl calmly chewed a piece, tilted her head as if considering the taste, and then… scooped up another spoonful.

Phainon froze.

"No… it can't be…"

But the fact was evident. The youngest daughter calmly ate the soup, saturated with so many spices that it would make him, an adult man, sweat. Moreover, a familiar expression appeared in her eyes—satisfaction.

His wife suppressed a chuckle, her shoulders shaking with restrained laughter.

"She's like you…" Phainon breathed, slightly stunned.

"Looks like it." She patted her daughter on the head with pride. The girl only smiled contentedly and pushed her mother's dish towards herself, clearly intending to finish it. Phainon ran a hand over his face.

"Well… I guess there's one more fireproof person in this house…"

His wife only nodded contentedly, watching her daughter devour the "fiery" dinner with gusto. It was now obvious that she had inherited not only her mother's character, but also her taste preferences.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr #mydei x reader #hsr mydei #mydei #mydeimos #anaxa #honkai star rail anaxa #hsr anaxa #anaxagoras #anaxa x reader #hsr phainon #phainon #phainon x reader

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district-thirteen-intern · 2 months ago

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So I'm writing after a long time, and I've never written anything for the hunger games universe before, so please be kind, and I hope you'll like it. it's set some time after the victory tour but before (and during) the quarter quell announcement.

dust and damnation ft. haymitch abernathy

pairings: Haymitch x Reader

blurb:

Haymitch Abernathy’s plan to drink himself into oblivion hits a snag when his new housekeeper declares war on his filth—and his misery. Now there’s tea where his whiskey should be, flowers on his table, and worst of all? He might actually be getting better.

content warnings: alcoholism, trauma

The funny thing about hiring a housekeeper to save your life is that sometimes it actually works— which is, frankly, both suspicious and deeply inconvenient for Haymitch, whose retirement plan involves dying sometime soon of liver failure, ideally full-up with a bottle of something strong and undeserved. In his defense, he had been somewhere on his fifth blackout of the week when the kids brought up the suggestion about hiring a live-in maid to help around the house, and he hadn't been coherent enough to argue— which means he's wholly responsible for all the chaos she brings with her, armed with a mop, an infuriatingly sunny disposition, and the absolute audacity to set blooming flowers on his kitchen table like she didn't just ruin the perfectly curated gloom around his house. The kitchen table is only the first victim in a series of victims. In the span of a week, the yellowed curtains are washed and open and billowy again, and empty bottles no longer litter on the floor like unmarked graves, and there are biscuits cooling on the windowsill like he's some washed up grandmother and not a murderer and a pariah and a damaged monster, and for the first time since he began living here, the walls don't loudly berate him for killing everyone he loved everyday. The scent of lemon polish lingers in the air— bright, clean, and offensively optimistic— and it's like hope and dish soap had a baby.

“It smells like a dog shat in a meadow,” he grumbles.

She protests. “It smells elegant!”

“Sweet girl, it smells like a candy store threw up in here.”

“I like it.”

“I don't care,” he says. “Get rid of it.”

And then he storms off and she never does get rid of it.

Later, when she runs out, he's the one who replaces it. And if the scent lingers in his clothes a little longer than he'd ever admit? That's for him to know.

Then she starts laundering his clothes.

He protests on principle.

She replies that his principle smells like rot and mildew.

Haymitch almost doesn't like it.

The food starts appearing next, and surprisingly, it's not like a threat or a bribe or even a favor. There are stews and breads and the occasional crime against pastry— because she may be an optimist but she's no chef— but it's always warm and fresh and sometimes he reaches for it with an absence of mind, like it's a reflex etched into the marrow of his bones. His mother had never wasted anything in her life, and he still hasn't unlearned this habit after years of drowning in insurmountable wealth and grief. So he eats the half-cooked, over-salted meals quietly— automatically— until he feels almost human; something almost real, with life and opinions and motivations.

The bread is still a war crime though.

Haymitch saws at the loaf with a knife. “Did you and that boy bake this or excavate it?”

“It's rustic!”

“It's reinforced concrete.”

She starts defensively. “Next time, you cook.”

“Next time, I'll just chew the table leg,” he grumbles. “Tastes the same anyway.”

She throws the concrete slab of bread loaves at his head.

He eats it anyway, because it's hot, and it's there, and no one has cooked for him in years. But when she burns it again next week, even he can't stomach it. And taking pity on both their stomachs, he nudges her aside, and makes some omelet.

He claims it's just to stop her accidentally poisoning them.

(Neither of them mentions it again.)

And then there is the tea.

It's some foul-tasting concoction brewed from bitterness and herbs and whatever damn kindness she keeps hidden in the pantry that cures the hangovers. Haymitch glares at the mug like it’s personally offended him—which, in fairness, it has. It smells like wet earth and something vaguely medicinal, the kind of brew that could either cure a hangover or summon demons. He’s half-convinced she’s poisoning him slowly, just to see how long it takes him to notice.

But damn it all, it works.

And worse—

She knows it works.

The threadbare blanket on the couch is replaced with a hand-knit monstrosity in cheerful colors, and little windchimes hang on the porch, and if he listens close enough while drinking in the lonesome of his bedroom, he can hear her humming happily as she works. He doesn't even hate it.

No one demands he stop drinking.

He tries anyway.

He almost swears she can tell when he's itching to reach for another bottle, because she appears by his side with some half-cooked, over-salted dish and two glasses of tea and that's that.

Between the music returning to his life and him cooking around the house and helping her in the garden and eating full meals, it's not as hard. He doesn't quit completely, and there are still nights when the ghosts of all his loved ones seem too close, when the weight of the arena and the years of silence becomes unbearable, and the tremors in his hands aren't from withdrawal but from memories, when the bottle is the only thing that can drown out the screaming in his head.

He tells himself it's just once.

Just this once.

(It never is.)

And when he fails— inevitably and spectacularly— feeling sick and hoarse and ashamed before her, she gently wipes the sick off his mouth with a washcloth and half-helps and half-drags him to his bed.

The next morning, there's a glass of water and a plate of dry and plain toast on his nightstand.

He tries again.

It's like a battle. Some days he wins. Some days he loses.

But he keeps trying.

And she keeps waiting.

(That's enough.)

The kids begin to accept dinner invitations much more frequently too, looking less and less concerned, and his sweet girl— that's how he thinks of her now, inside his head, where his desire isn't limited by the cruel reality— looks much less troubled, and when he's sober, he can focus entirely on the sway of her hips as she dances while dusting off the furniture, and that dimple in her cheek when she smiles at him like he's anything more than a man damaged beyond repair.

And so they dwell in this happy medium in the in-betweens of grief: him almost sober and her almost content, until the quarter quell is announced.

The tributes will be reaped from the existing pool of victors.

Haymitch finds her in the garden, fingers stained green from crushing leaves absently between them. “What are you murdering those poor plants for?”

“Just weeds.”

He steps closer, boots scuffing in the dirt. “You're a terrible liar, sweetheart.”

She stiffens. “Go away.”

“I can't. This is my favorite drinking spot.” He sits down beside her, and nudges gently. “Out with it, sweet girl. What'd the flowers do? Insult your knitting?”

She doesn't take the bait. “You promised her that— that if Peeta is reaped, you'll volunteer for him.”

“Yes.”

“And then, you'll die saving her.”

Haymitch shrugs, and then regrets it when he sees the look on her face. “Hey, look at me,” he says softly. “Worst-case scenario? You finally get the house to yourself. No more socks on the floor. No more me drinking all the—”

“Stop!” she says. “You don't get to joke about this.”

“I absolutely get to joke about this. It’s my impending death. I’ll make as many quips as I wa—”

“No! You don't get to joke about this. You don't get to make me care about you, and then make jokes like it doesn't mean anything. I won't let you.”

He reaches out, and wipes away the tears spilling out with his thumb. “Don't cry, sweetheart. Not for me.”

She grabs his hand and presses a kiss to his palm and then his wrist, all quick and fierce, and then she clumsily shoves a delicate flower crown on his head.

Haymitch touches it, bemused. “Is this my execution garland? How charming.”

“Shut up,” she says.

“Make me.”

There's a short pause, before she's leaning in and pressing her lips against his— and well, turns out she has a vested interest in shutting him up; an interest he happily encourages, laughing and kissing her back because he's a man of numbered days.

She leans into him.

The sun sets.

(They don't talk about tomorrow.)

They will, eventually, when it's impossible to ignore; but right now, this little bit of happiness is enough.

a/n: so that's that then! i hope you liked it. please don't forget to like, comment, and reblog.

also please let me know if you want to be added into my hunger games tag list, so you may be notified when i write something else for this universe.

#the hunger games fanfiction #haymitch x reader #the hunger games #haymitch abernathy x reader #sunrise on the reaping #sotr #thg #thg fanfiction #haymitch abernathy fanfiction #hunger games oc #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #catching fire #mockingjay #thg haymitch #haymitch x oc #everlark

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chelseaknoo · 6 months ago

Text

"I've never felt so betrayed in my life..."

B-rabbit x reader

Caution: cheating,semi-sexual content<3

You had been working at Betty’s Diner since you were 17, and now, at 20, it felt like a second home. The bustling sounds of the kitchen, the chatter of regulars, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee had become a familiar comfort.

Occasionally, you’d notice a little girl named Lily coming into the diner sometimes even with her mom. She was quiet and sweet, with big eyes that always seemed to be searching for something. You couldn’t help but feel drawn to her. It wasn’t long before you started setting aside little treats for her—a warm muffin, a plate of fries, or a slice of pie—and handing her coloring books to keep her entertained.

At first, she’d just smile shyly, but over time, she opened up to you. You’d sit with her during your breaks, talking about her favorite cartoons or what she wanted to be when she grew up. A bond began to form between you two, one that felt special and unspoken.

Outside of work, life was simple. You lived in a small apartment just a few blocks away, sharing the space with your energetic little dog, who was always thrilled to see you after a long shift. It wasn’t much, but it was yours—a cozy haven where you could unwind after the long hours on your feet.

Despite your busy life, you always made time for Lily whenever she came by. To her, you were more than just someone who handed her free food and coloring books. You were a friend, maybe even a role model. And to you, Lily had become a bright spot in your days, reminding you of the simple joy of connection.

You woke up to the sound of your alarm, its shrill beeping pulling you from a restless sleep. After a quick shower, you slipped into your uniform—a short pink polka-dot dress with a crisp white apron tied neatly around your waist. The dress had a cute collar and short sleeves, paired with white socks and matching pink heels that gave you that classic 1950s diner-girl look. It wasn’t the most comfortable outfit, but it suited the atmosphere of Betty’s Diner perfectly.

After giving your small dog a quick cuddle and setting out fresh food and water, you grabbed your bag and headed out the door. The chilly morning air greeted you as you made your way to the bus stop. The ride was uneventful, filled with the usual assortment of half-asleep commuters, students, and the occasional chatter of an overly loud phone conversation. You leaned your head against the window, mentally preparing yourself for the long day ahead.

By the time you stepped into the diner, it was already buzzing with activity. The morning rush was in full swing—regulars sipping coffee, families with noisy kids ordering pancakes, and the kitchen staff barking out orders. You tied your apron tighter, plastered on your best smile, and got to work.

The day was chaotic, to say the least. Between refilling coffee cups and taking orders, you dealt with an endless parade of difficult customers. There was the woman who sent back her omelet three times because it wasn’t “fluffy enough,” the homeless man who wandered in asking for leftovers, and the group of teenagers who tried to dine and dash.

Then there were the druggies who occasionally came in, looking for a quick meal or a place to linger. One of them caused a minor scene, yelling at another customer before the manager stepped in to defuse the situation. You kept your cool, but by lunchtime, you were already exhausted.

Despite the chaos, you found small moments to breathe. A regular complimented your smile, an elderly couple left you a generous tip, and, as always, the sight of Lily walking in brightened your mood.

It was nearing the end of your shift, and the diner had finally quieted down. Most of the tables were empty, save for a couple of regulars lingering over their coffee. You sat at a booth near the corner, the counter wiped clean, the cash register balanced, and the "Closed" sign ready to flip.

Lily sat across from you, her little face scrunched in concentration as she carefully colored in the lines of the picture you'd drawn for her. "What do you think?" she asked, holding up her work for your approval.

"That’s beautiful, Lily," you said with a warm smile. "I think we have an artist in the making."

She grinned, about to reply, when the bell over the diner door jingled, signaling a late customer. You glanced up, ready to explain the place was closing, but Lily beat you to it.

"Jimmy!" she squealed, jumping up from the booth and racing toward the young man who had just walked in.

He bent down to scoop her up in his arms, laughing softly as he hugged her close. "Hey, baby," he said, resting her head on his shoulder. "What’re you still doing here? Isn’t it past your bedtime?"

Lily giggled, clinging to him. "I was waiting for you! And look, I was coloring with my friend."

"Your friend, huh?" he said, his tone curious as he turned his gaze toward you. The moment his eyes landed on you, he froze.

For a second, it felt like time slowed down. His blue eyes, shadowed slightly by the hoodie and beanie he wore, widened like he’d just seen something—or someone—he couldn’t believe. You shifted slightly under his gaze, unsure of what to say.

"Uh… hi," you said finally, offering a polite smile.

He blinked and cleared his throat, trying to recover. "Hi," he said, his voice low but steady. "I’m, uh—"

"This is Jimmy, my big brother!" Lily interrupted excitedly. She turned to him and added, "This is the nice lady I told you about, the one who gives me food and coloring books."

Jimmy’s eyes softened as he looked at Lily, then back at you. "So, you’re the one she keeps talking about," he said, a small, almost shy smile tugging at his lips. "She won’t stop mentioning you at home."

You felt a slight blush creep into your cheeks. "Well, Lily’s a good kid," you said, shrugging modestly. "It’s hard not to spoil her a little."

He set Lily down, and she immediately climbed back into the booth to finish her coloring. Jimmy walked closer, his gaze still on you, and extended a hand. "I’m Jimmy," he said simply.

"Y/N," you replied, shaking his hand. His grip was firm but not overpowering, his hands rough from what you could only guess was hard work.

"You’ve been really good to my sister," he said, his voice sincere. "I just… I appreciate it. We don’t exactly have a lot of people looking out for us."

You gave a small, reassuring smile. "It’s nothing, really. Lily’s a sweetheart. She’s welcome here anytime."

For a moment, he just looked at you, his expression softening as if he were seeing something he didn’t quite know how to process. "Well, thank you," he said again, his voice quieter this time.

Lily interrupted the moment by proudly holding up her finished drawing. "Look, Jimmy! Isn’t it pretty?"

"It’s awesome, baby," Jimmy said, ruffling her hair. He glanced back at you, his smile lingering. "Maybe I’ll see you around, Y/N."

"Maybe," you replied, your voice light but tinged with curiosity.

As he and Lily walked out, you couldn’t help but feel that something significant had just happened. You didn’t know much about Jimmy yet, but there was something in the way he looked at you that you couldn’t quite shake—a mixture of gratitude, intrigue, and something else entirely.

As Jimmy carried Lily down the dimly lit street toward their trailer, she rested her head on his shoulder, clutching her coloring book tightly. The chilly night air bit at his face, but he barely noticed. His thoughts were still lingering back at the diner—on you.

“Jimmy,” Lily said softly, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, Lil?” he replied, adjusting his hold on her.

“You like her, don’t you?”

He glanced at her, eyebrows raised. “Who?”

“The nice lady from the diner,” Lily said with a grin, lifting her head to look at him. “I saw the way you were looking at her. You think she’s pretty.”

Jimmy chuckled, his breath visible in the cold air. “Yeah, okay. She’s pretty. So what?”

“You have a crush on her,” Lily teased, her voice sing-song.

“What? No, I don’t,” Jimmy said quickly, though the slight blush creeping up his neck betrayed him.

“Yes, you do,” Lily insisted, giggling now. “You never look at anyone like that. You couldn’t stop staring at her!”

Jimmy sighed, shaking his head, but there was a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Alright, maybe I do think she’s... beautiful,” he admitted. “She’s nice, too. Real nice. Not just to you, but, like... she seems like she actually cares, you know?”

Lily nodded enthusiastically. “She’s the best! She always gives me food, and we color together when she’s not busy.”

Jimmy’s smile grew a little wider. “Yeah, I could see that. You two seem close.”

“You should ask her to be your girlfriend,” Lily said matter-of-factly, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Jimmy laughed. “It’s not that simple, Lil.”

“Why not?”

“Well, for one, I barely know her,” he explained. “And even if I did… she’s probably not interested in someone like me.”

Lily tilted her head, confused. “Why not? You’re nice. And you work really hard. And you’re my big brother, so that means you’re the best!”

Jimmy couldn’t help but laugh again, his heart warming at her words. “Thanks, kid. But we’ll see. For now, let’s just get you home and to bed, alright?”

“Okay,” Lily agreed, resting her head back on his shoulder. But as they continued walking, she added, “I think she’d like you, Jimmy. You just have to talk to her more.”

Jimmy didn’t reply, but the thought stayed with him as they approached the trailer. Maybe Lily was right. Maybe he should talk to you more. After all, there was something about you that he couldn’t quite shake—a feeling he hadn’t had in a long time.

A few days had passed since Jimmy's visit to the diner, and as the days went by, he started showing up more frequently. Sometimes, he'd come in with Lily, a quiet presence as they settled into their booth. Other times, it was just him—alone, but never lingering too long, always polite and casual, though there was something about his smile when he spoke to you that made your heart skip a beat.

You found yourself looking forward to his visits, even if you told yourself it was just because he was a regular customer. But each time he walked through the door, your pulse quickened a little. And every time you spoke, it felt like something unspoken lingered between you both.

It was a quiet afternoon when they both arrived again. The diner was nearly empty, the usual hum of conversation and clinking cutlery filling the air. You glanced up from behind the counter as the doorbell jingled, and there they were—Jimmy and Lily, walking in like they owned the place.

Lily skipped over to the booth, hopping into the seat with her usual enthusiasm. "Hi, Y/N!" she called, waving excitedly. "I drew a new picture today! Do you want to see?"

"Of course, I’d love to," you said, smiling as you made your way over to their booth.

As you handed Lily the crayons she asked for, you noticed Jimmy lingering at the entrance, looking a little uncomfortable, as though he wasn’t sure if he should approach you just yet. But when he caught your eye, he smiled, a small, shy smile that made your chest flutter.

"Hey, Y/N," Jimmy greeted you, his voice casual but soft.

"Hey, Jimmy," you replied, giving him a warm smile. "What can I get you today?"

"Just the usual," he said, settling into the seat across from Lily. "A burger, fries, and a coffee."

You nodded, scribbling it down in your notepad. "Coming right up."

As you turned to head back to the kitchen, Lily suddenly piped up from the booth. "Hey, Y/N, did you know Jimmy has a crush on you?"

Your heart skipped a beat, and you froze for a second, caught off guard by her words. You turned slowly, a slight flush creeping up your neck as you looked at Jimmy, who was staring wide-eyed at his little sister.

"Lily!" he protested, his voice a mix of shock and embarrassment. "What are you talking about?"

Lily just grinned, clearly enjoying the moment. "I’m just telling the truth! He’s always looking at you like you’re a goddess or something."

Jimmy’s face turned a deep shade of red. "I do not," he said, shaking his head. "I—I don’t have a crush on anyone."

You tried to hide the small smile forming on your lips, but you couldn’t help it. The way he was fumbling with his words was too cute. "Well, I guess we’ll see about that," you teased, glancing at him with a raised eyebrow.

Jimmy cleared his throat, avoiding your gaze as he leaned back in the booth. "I swear, Lil, you have no idea what you're talking about."

But Lily just giggled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I know exactly what I’m talking about. I’m not dumb, you know."

You couldn’t help but chuckle at their back-and-forth. There was something endearing about the way they bantered, and it made you realize how much you liked being around them—how easy it was to talk to both of them.

"Alright, alright," you said, playing along. "No need to be shy, Jimmy. I’m not going anywhere."

Jimmy shifted uncomfortably in his seat but then looked up, locking eyes with you for the first time in a few seconds. There was something in his gaze now—something more serious, less playful. "I’m not shy," he said quietly, though his voice betrayed him. "I just… don’t know what to say."

You leaned against the counter, watching him. "You don’t have to say anything. You’re here, aren’t you?"

His eyes softened slightly, and for a moment, there was a comfortable silence between the three of you. Then Lily, always the little matchmaker, looked at you and grinned again. "I think you two should go out sometime. Just saying!"

Jimmy groaned and buried his face in his hands. "I can't take you anywhere, can I?"

You laughed, your heart warming at the exchange. "You know, Lily might be onto something," you said, your voice teasing but gentle.

Jimmy finally looked at you, his embarrassment still lingering but now replaced with a hint of hope. "Yeah?" he asked, his voice quieter this time.

You smiled softly. "Yeah," you said, your tone sincere. "Maybe we could grab a coffee sometime—just the two of us."

Lily’s eyes lit up, and she clasped her hands together dramatically. "I knew it! It’s a date!"

Jimmy groaned again, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips as he looked at you. "Alright, alright. I guess we’ll see how that goes."

As you turned to head back to the kitchen, you couldn’t help but feel the warmth of anticipation building in your chest. Maybe Lily was right. Maybe there was something there after all.

After that day, things between you and Jimmy started to change. At first, it was just small moments—simple, casual conversations as he came into the diner with Lily, or the times when he showed up on his own, just to grab a coffee and chat for a little while. You found yourself looking forward to his visits more and more, and the feeling seemed mutual. Every time he walked in, a small part of you hoped he’d sit at your booth, or that he’d ask you how your day had been, just like he always did.

It wasn’t long before the two of you started hanging out outside the diner as well. It started with simple things: grabbing coffee at a local café, taking a walk through the park, or spending lazy afternoons talking about everything and nothing at all. You learned more about each other—his love for music, his dreams of something bigger than the small-town life he’d been stuck in, and his complicated relationship with his family. Jimmy wasn’t a man of many words, but when he spoke, it was as if the world slowed down just to hear him.

One evening, after a long shift, you walked out of the diner to find Jimmy leaning against his car, waiting for you like he often did. He was wearing that same hoodie and beanie, but there was something different in the way he was standing. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets, and he shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other as you approached.

“Hey,” you said with a smile, feeling the usual flutter of excitement when you saw him.

“Hey, Y/N,” he greeted, his voice a little softer than usual. “I was thinking maybe we could go grab a bite to eat? Just the two of us?”

Your heart skipped. “I’d like that,” you replied. “Let me just change real quick.”

He nodded, giving you a small, almost hesitant smile. “Take your time.”

You returned to your small apartment to change into something more comfortable, your mind racing as you tried to focus on getting ready. Every time you were around him, you found it harder to ignore the way your heart beat faster, the way your stomach fluttered when he looked at you, even when he was being shy and quiet. But what did this mean? Was he just being friendly, or was there something more?

When you met him back outside, he drove the two of you to a small diner on the outskirts of town. The place was cozy, warm, and quiet—a perfect spot for a relaxed evening. You sat down at a booth by the window, and for the first time in what felt like forever, there was an easy silence between you. The clink of silverware and the low murmur of conversations from other tables created a comfortable backdrop.

“So,” Jimmy said, after a few moments of quiet. “How’s everything going at the diner? Busy, as usual?”

You laughed softly, swirling your straw in your drink. “You could say that. Karen came in earlier today. Demanded a refund because her coffee wasn’t ‘hot enough.’” You rolled your eyes. “Same old, same old.”

He chuckled, a deep, genuine laugh that made your heart skip. “I don’t know how you do it. I would’ve lost my mind by now.”

You shrugged, glancing out the window. “It’s just part of the job. People have their bad days, you know?” You met his eyes. “Besides, it gives me something to laugh about after work.”

He was quiet for a moment, and you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes lingered on you, how his gaze softened as he looked at you. You swallowed, unsure of what to say next.

“I’m really glad we did this,” you said, breaking the silence. “I mean, hanging out like this… it feels good to just talk and not worry about work or anything else.”

“I feel the same,” Jimmy replied, his voice quieter now. “You’re easy to talk to, Y/N. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this comfortable with anyone.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe. You were suddenly aware of the way he was looking at you, the way his lips parted slightly, as if he were about to say something more.

“I… I don’t know if I’m good at this kind of thing,” he said slowly, his voice a little shaky. “But, I’ve been thinking… maybe it’s time I said something.” He took a deep breath, his fingers tapping nervously on the table. “I like you, Y/N. I mean, I really like you.”

Your breath hitched at his confession. You felt the words catch in your throat, but you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face.

“I like you too, Jimmy,” you said, your voice barely a whisper.

Jimmy’s gaze softened, and a small smile tugged at his lips. But there was something more in his eyes now—something deeper. He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a low, serious tone.

“I want to be with you,” he said, his words careful but sincere. “I think… I think I’m ready to try, if you are. I want you to be my girlfriend, Y/N. No games, no pretending. Just us.”

Your heart was pounding now, a rush of emotions flooding through you. You could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the uncertainty, but also the hope. He was scared, but he was asking you—he was being real with you.

You took a deep breath, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “I’d like that, Jimmy. I really would.”

His face lit up, a smile spreading across his face that made your heart melt. He reached across the table, taking your hand in his. It felt warm and strong in yours, and in that moment, you knew—this was something real. Something worth holding on to.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice full of relief. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” you said, your voice steady. “I’ve wanted this for a while, Jimmy.”

He laughed softly, as if all the tension had been lifted from his shoulders. “Good. I was starting to think I was gonna have to convince you a little more,” he teased, squeezing your hand.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “You didn’t have to convince me. I think I’ve been falling for you for a while.”

The rest of the night passed in a blur of laughter and conversation, the two of you lost in each other’s company. Jimmy was no longer shy, no longer hesitant. You could see the shift in him—the way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you. He was finally comfortable, finally letting himself be vulnerable. And you were right there with him, your heart full of the same feelings he had been too scared to admit.

As you drove back to your apartment, Jimmy’s hand still holding yours, you realized something. This wasn’t just a casual fling or a passing moment. This was the beginning of something special. And it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

After a few more minutes of quiet conversation, you and Jimmy walked down the dimly lit street toward your apartment. The city around you was quiet, save for the occasional car driving by and the distant hum of streetlights. The night air was crisp, and it felt good against your skin, especially with Jimmy’s hand still holding yours as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to let go.

“You sure you’re okay with coming over?” you asked, glancing up at him. “I mean, my place isn’t much, but—”

“Hey, it’s not about the place,” he said, cutting you off with a grin. “It’s about being with you.”

You smiled, feeling warmth spread through your chest. It was a simple answer, but it meant everything.

When you reached your small apartment building, you walked up the staircase together. The walls were decorated with old, peeling wallpaper and a few creaky steps that you had learned to avoid. As you reached the door to your apartment, you turned the key in the lock, and the door swung open with a soft creak.

Inside, the space was cozy—small, but lived-in. You’d kept things simple, but it felt like home. There were a few scattered blankets on the couch, a coffee table cluttered with old magazines, and a small bookshelf filled with dog-eared novels. Your dog, a tiny but fierce little mutt named Oreo, was already at the door, barking excitedly as you stepped inside.

“Hey, Oreo,” you said, bending down to scoop the little dog into your arms. “Look who’s here.”

Jimmy couldn’t help but laugh as he watched you with your dog, your eyes full of affection as you cuddled the small, wagging ball of fur. Oreo barked and squirmed in your arms, trying to lick your face.

“Man, that dog’s got a lot of energy,” Jimmy said, grinning as he knelt down to pet him. “He’s cute, though.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “She’s a handful, trust me.”

Oreo, not content with just being petted, wriggled free from your arms and bounded toward Jimmy, eager to make a new friend. Jimmy laughed as Oreo jumped on him, licking his hands and face.

“She seems to like me,” Jimmy said, his grin wide as he tried to fend off Oreo’s advances. “I’m starting to think she’s the real boss around here.”

“Don’t let her fool you,” you said with a teasing smile. “She’s a diva. I’m the one who calls the shots.”

Jimmy raised an eyebrow, still trying to calm the little dog down. “Right, right. I’ll make sure to take notes.”

As you and Jimmy moved into the living room, the playful chaos of Oreo gradually settled down, and the two of you made yourselves comfortable on the couch. You both sat there for a while, talking, laughing, and enjoying the quiet intimacy that had developed between you. It was easy to forget about everything else when it was just you two in the same space, sharing little moments like this.

Eventually, the conversation shifted to a more personal topic, and you found yourself looking into Jimmy’s eyes, the distance between you shrinking. The way he looked at you—like you were the only person in the room—was enough to make your heart race.

“I’m glad you came over,” you said quietly, your voice almost shy.

“I’m glad you let me,” Jimmy replied, his tone just as soft. “I like being here. With you.”

You could feel the weight of his words, the sincerity in them. And without thinking, you reached for him, your hand brushing against his. Jimmy leaned in, his breath warm against your face as his lips hovered just inches from yours.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice hushed but full of longing, “I’ve been thinking about this… about us… a lot.”

Your pulse quickened as his hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. It felt like time had slowed down, like everything in the world had paused except for the two of you. Slowly, cautiously, you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a soft kiss.

It was slow at first, tentative, like you were both testing the waters. But as the kiss deepened, everything around you seemed to fade away. There were no more worries, no more questions. It was just the two of you, caught up in the moment, savoring the warmth and tenderness that had been building between you for so long.

Jimmy’s hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t get enough. You responded eagerly, your fingers threading through his hair as you kissed him deeper, your hearts beating in sync.

For a moment, everything else—the world, the noise, the complications of life—disappeared, leaving only the connection between you and him. You could feel the electricity between you, the undeniable pull that had been growing stronger with every passing day.

Finally, you pulled away, both of you breathless, your faces inches apart. You smiled softly, your forehead resting against his.

“That was...” you started, but your voice trailed off.

“I know,” Jimmy said quietly, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection. “I’ve wanted it too.”

He chuckled softly, his thumb brushing your lip. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

“Me too,” you whispered.

Jimmy leaned in again, this time more urgently, pressing his lips to yours with more fervor. The kiss was full of heat now, of something deeper—something that couldn’t be denied. It was like everything you’d been waiting for had culminated in this one perfect moment.

When the kiss finally broke, you both sat there for a moment, catching your breath, hands still entwined as you looked into each other’s eyes. The air was thick with unspoken promises, with the feeling that this was just the beginning of something even bigger than either of you had expected.

Jimmy opened the door to his trailer, stepping aside so you could enter. You smiled at him warmly, brushing your hair out of your face as you stepped into the small, slightly cluttered space. It was cozy in its own way, but you could tell he was a little nervous about having you here. He closed the door quietly behind you, glancing toward the small bedroom where Lily was sitting cross-legged on her bed with a book in her hands.

"Hey, Lil'," Jimmy called softly, walking over to her. "It’s time for bed, alright?"

Lily looked up from her book and pouted slightly, though it was more from being tired than anything else. "Okay, but can you read me a story tomorrow?"

"Yeah, of course," he said, ruffling her hair gently. "Now, go brush your teeth and get some sleep."

Lily nodded, setting her book down and hopping off the bed. She padded off toward the tiny bathroom, leaving the two of you alone in the main area of the trailer. Jimmy turned back to you, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Sorry about the mess," he mumbled, motioning around the room. "It’s not much, but, uh… it’s home."

You smiled, taking a step closer to him. "You don’t have to apologize, Jimmy. I like it. It’s… cozy."

He snorted softly, shaking his head. "That’s one way to put it," he muttered, his eyes flicking around the room. "Guess I’m just… not used to having someone like you here."

"Someone like me?" you teased gently, raising an eyebrow. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

He looked down, shuffling his feet a little. "I mean… you’re just… you know, you’ve got your stuff together. You’re smart, and you’ve got that nice apartment, and…" He trailed off, his voice barely above a whisper. "You deserve better than this."

Your heart clenched at his words, and you stepped closer, reaching out to take his hand. "Jimmy," you said softly, waiting for him to meet your eyes. "Don’t say that. I don’t care about any of that stuff. I like you for who you are, not where you live."

He sighed, running a hand over his face. "It’s just… embarrassing, you know? I want to give you more than this someday. I don’t want you to think this is all I can offer."

You squeezed his hand gently, your thumb brushing over his knuckles. "You already give me more than enough, Jimmy," you said firmly. "You’re kind, you’re hardworking, and you care about the people in your life. That means so much more to me than anything else."

He looked at you for a long moment, his expression softening. "You really mean that?"

"Of course, I do," you replied, smiling at him. "And for the record, I think it’s kind of cute how worried you are about impressing me."

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Man, you’re something else," he said, his voice warm.

Before he could say more, Lily emerged from the bathroom, her hair slightly damp from washing her face. "Goodnight, Jimmy," she said sleepily, climbing back into her bed. Then she looked at you and smiled shyly. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Lily," you said warmly, watching as she snuggled under her blanket. Jimmy walked over to her, tucking her in and pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head before turning off the light in her little corner of the trailer.

As he came back over to you, he let out a quiet sigh, running a hand through his hair. "So… what do you want to do?" he asked, his voice a little hesitant.

You smiled, sitting down on the worn-out couch and patting the spot next to you. "Why don’t you tell me more about yourself?" you suggested. "I feel like there’s still so much I don’t know about you."

He hesitated for a moment before sitting down next to you, leaning back against the couch. "I don’t know if there’s much to tell," he said, his tone self-deprecating.

"I don’t believe that," you replied, nudging him gently. "Come on, Jimmy. What’s your dream? What do you want out of life?"

He glanced at you, his expression softening. "Well… you already know I rap," he said slowly. "I guess I just… I want to make it, you know? I want to get out of here, give Lily a better life. Prove to myself—and everyone else—that I’m not just some loser from 8 Mile."

You reached out, resting your hand on his knee. "You’re not a loser, Jimmy," you said firmly. "You’re one of the most talented, driven people I’ve ever met. And I know you’re going to make it someday."

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours. "You really believe that?"

"Absolutely," you said, smiling at him. "You have so much to offer, Jimmy. And I’ll be right here, cheering you on every step of the way."

He was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on you. Then, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Thanks, Y/N," he murmured. "That means a lot."

You smiled, leaning into his touch. "Anytime," you said softly.

The two of you sat there for a while, talking about everything and nothing. Jimmy opened up more than you’d ever seen him do before, sharing stories about his childhood, his struggles, and his dreams for the future.

It was a chilly evening as you walked Lily back to the trailer. She held your hand tightly, her small fingers gripping yours, her steps quiet and cautious. She wasn’t much of a talker during these moments, especially when she seemed tired, and tonight was no exception. You glanced down at her, offering her a small smile that she returned faintly before looking ahead.

As you got closer to the trailer, the faint sound of raised voices drifted through the air. You slowed your steps, your heart sinking as the argument grew louder with every step. Lily’s grip on your hand tightened, and you could see the tension in her little face as she recognized the voices.

"Why the fuck don’t you ever shut up, Greg?" you heard Jimmy’s voice ring out sharply, filled with anger.

"You think you’re some tough guy, huh?" Greg shot back, his voice slurred. "You think you’re better than me? You’re nothing but a little punk!"

"That’s enough!" Stephanie’s voice interjected, strained and desperate as she tried to mediate. "Both of you, just stop it! You’re scaring Lily!"

Your stomach twisted as you exchanged a glance with Lily. Her eyes were wide, and she tugged on your hand, urging you to keep moving. You nodded softly, squeezing her hand as you continued toward the trailer.

As you came around the corner, the scene came into view. Jimmy stood in front of Greg, his fists clenched at his sides, his posture rigid with barely contained fury. Greg, clearly drunk, was gesturing wildly, his face red with anger. Stephanie stood between them, her arms outstretched as if she were physically trying to hold them apart.

“Get the hell outta here, Jimmy,” Greg sneered, stumbling slightly as he pointed a finger at him. “This ain’t your place. Go cry about your shitty little life somewhere else.”

Jimmy’s jaw tightened, his eyes blazing as he took a step closer. “This is my place. You’re the one who doesn’t belong here. All you ever do is come in here drunk and make everything worse.”

“Jimmy, please,” Stephanie begged, her voice cracking. “Just let it go. He’s not worth it.”

Jimmy’s eyes flicked to his mom, his expression softening slightly. “Ma, you don’t have to put up with this. You deserve better than him.”

“Better than me?” Greg barked out a laugh, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t know shit about what she deserves, kid. You’re just a useless wannabe who’ll never get out of this dump.”

Jimmy took another step forward, his fists raising slightly. “Say that again, you piece of shit. I fucking dare you.”

“Jimmy,” you said softly, stepping closer with Lily still clutching your hand. His head snapped toward you, his expression immediately shifting to one of surprise and then embarrassment.

Greg noticed you too, his drunken gaze sliding over you with a sneer. “Oh, look who’s here,” he slurred. “Your pretty little girlfriend. Maybe you can teach this asshole some manners.I see now who where’s the pants in this fucking relationship.”

“Don’t fucking talk to her,” Jimmy snapped, his voice sharp as he stepped in front of you protectively. “Keep her out of this.”

“Jimmy,” you said again, this time more firmly, trying to get his attention. “It’s not worth it. Let’s just get Lily inside, okay?”

Jimmy glanced at you, his eyes softening as he noticed how tightly Lily was gripping your hand. She was quiet, but her wide eyes and trembling lip spoke volumes. He let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping slightly.

“Yeah,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Greg smirked, clearly thinking he’d won, but Jimmy ignored him, stepping back and crouching down to Lily’s level. “Hey, Lil,” he said softly, his voice gentle now. “Why don’t you head inside, huh? I’ll be right there.”

Lily nodded wordlessly, letting go of your hand and hurrying up the steps into the trailer. Jimmy straightened up, turning to look at you. His eyes held a mix of frustration and shame as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice low. “You shouldn’t have had to see that.Me and my ma’s boyfriend don’t really get along…”

“You don’t have to apologize, Jimmy,” you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. “But you can’t let him get to you. He’s not worth it.”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “It’s hard not to, Y/N. The guy’s a fucking parasite.”

“I know,” you said gently. “But Lily needs you to keep your head. She looks up to you.”

His expression softened at that, and he nodded slowly. “Yeah. You’re right.” He glanced back at Greg, who was still standing there with a smug look on his face, and his jaw tightened again. But instead of engaging, he turned back to you. “Come on. Let’s go inside.”

You nodded, following him up the steps and into the trailer. As the door closed behind you, Jimmy let out a long sigh, leaning back against the wall.

You smiled, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around him. He hugged you tightly, his chin resting on the top of your head.

A few months passed, and your bond with Jimmy and Lily grew stronger. You went to his rap competitions, cheering him on with pride as he worked tirelessly on his craft. You could see how much he wanted to make it, and you supported him every step of the way.

But despite the closeness, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. There were moments when Jimmy seemed distant, his smile not quite reaching his eyes, and you caught him lost in thought more often than not. Sometimes, when you asked about it, he’d brush it off with a quick change of subject, or a forced joke.

The guilt you saw in his eyes every now and then made your stomach twist, but you didn’t press him. Maybe it was nothing, you told yourself. It was just the weight of his ambitions. You didn’t think too much of it. He loved you right? Or so you thought…

It was a cold evening when you decided to stop by Jimmy’s trailer. You had baked a fresh batch of muffins earlier in the day, and knowing how much Lily loved them, you figured it would be a nice surprise for her. Jimmy had been busy with his rap competitions lately, and you knew he had a lot on his plate. You wanted to make sure they knew you were there for them, even if just with a small gesture.

You walked up the familiar steps, the warmth of the trailer inviting you, but something felt off as you approached the front door. It was quieter than usual, and you could hear voices faintly, but they were muffled. Your mind wandered briefly, thinking perhaps Jimmy was working on something in the trailer, maybe helping Lily with her schoolwork or planning for an upcoming competition. But when you turned the corner to walk toward the back, your heart skipped a beat.

There, in the dim light of the front yard, you saw them.

Jimmy was standing with a woman, his hands resting on her waist as she kissed him fiercely. Your breath caught in your throat, the muffled sound of their lips meeting still echoing in your ears. But it wasn’t just any woman. It was *Alex*. The girl you’d seen at Jimmy’s rap competitions—the one with the bright eyes, the flirtatious grin, the one who always seemed a little too close to Jimmy when you were around.

You froze, rooted to the spot as you watched them, your chest tightening with disbelief. For a moment, you tried to rationalize it, tell yourself that maybe it wasn’t what it looked like, that maybe they were just friends or maybe you were imagining things. But the longer you stood there, the clearer it became. The way they were standing, the way Alex’s fingers ran through Jimmy’s hair, the way he responded to her touch—it was undeniable.

Then you heard it.

Alex pulled away slightly, a smug smile on her face. "I don’t know why you’re still with her," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "She’s too good for you, Jimmy. You don’t need someone like her holding you back. I mean, come on, look at her. She’s nothing special."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You felt your breath catch, the sting of her words cutting through you like a razor. But what hurt more was the silence that followed. Jimmy didn’t immediately defend you, didn’t immediately tell her to shut up. For a split second, you felt your heart break all over again.

"She’s… she’s not like that," Jimmy finally muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he were trying to find the words to justify it. "She’s… different. I care about her."

"Well, maybe *you* care about her," Alex scoffed, "but what does she really know about you? She’s just some girl who’s trying to fix the broken pieces of a guy who’s never gonna change. She doesn’t know who you really are, Jimmy. She’s not in your world."

Jimmy sighed, his voice barely audible as he responded, "I’m not who I used to be, Alex. And… she’s not like you. She doesn’t… judge me."

You couldn’t take it anymore. The weight of everything you’d been feeling, the moments of doubt, the unspoken tension between you two—it all crashed down on you at once. Tears started to fall from your eyes as you stood there, helpless, watching them. You had been there for him, through everything. You had supported him, cheered him on, loved him in ways you never thought possible. And now, you were standing in the shadows, invisible, as he kissed another woman.

"I’ve never felt so betrayed in my life…" you whispered to yourself, your voice barely audible above the rush of blood pounding in your ears. The words were thick with pain, each syllable cutting into you like a dagger.

Jimmy’s eyes snapped open in horror when he heard you. His heart stopped, his blood running cold as he turned and saw you standing there, your tear-streaked face illuminated by the dull light of the yard. His heart dropped into his stomach as he pulled away from Alex, his hands instinctively reaching out to you. "Y/N… wait… it’s not what you think—"

But you couldn’t hear it. You couldn’t bear to hear anything else. The moment you saw him take a step toward you, you spun on your heel, turning away from him. You didn’t want to hear excuses. You didn’t want to listen to him try to justify his actions, his betrayal.

"Y/N, please," Jimmy called after you, desperation in his voice, but you didn’t stop.

"You don’t get to say anything right now, Jimmy!" you shouted over your shoulder, your voice breaking with emotion. "You don’t get to lie to me anymore. I was *there* for you. I loved you. And this? This is how you repay me?"

You could hear the panic in his voice as he ran after you, his footsteps quickening as he tried to catch up. "It’s not like that, I swear. I care about you. I didn’t mean for it to happen like this. Please, just let me explain—"

"Explain?" you whirled around to face him, the tears flowing freely now. "What could you possibly say to explain this, Jimmy? How could you look at me and pretend nothing was wrong? How could you kiss her, talk about me like that? You’ve been hiding something from me this whole time, and I—I was so stupid to not see it."

Jimmy’s face paled, his guilt evident, and he stepped back, his hands raising in surrender. "Y/N, I swear to God, I didn’t mean to hurt you. You’re everything to me. I never wanted to hurt you. It’s just… Alex, she was—"

"She was *what*?" you cut him off, your voice shaking with hurt. "A distraction? A way to make me feel like I wasn’t good enough for you?"

"No! No, that’s not it—" He reached for your arm, but you jerked it away, stepping back further from him.

"I’m done," you said, your voice low and firm, your heart pounding in your chest. "I can’t do this anymore. You’ve already made your choice."

With that, you turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, broken and helpless in the yard. The sound of his voice calling your name echoed in your ears, but you didn’t turn around. You couldn’t. You had never felt so betrayed, so shattered in your entire life.

And as you walked away, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever be able to trust him again.

That night, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. The tears just kept coming, and no matter how hard you tried to push them away, they poured from your eyes uncontrollably. You locked yourself in your bedroom, curling up on your bed with your small dog, who instinctively knew something was wrong. He snuggled close, his small body offering the only comfort you could find in that moment.

Your heart felt like it had been shattered into a million pieces, each one hurting more than the last. You could still hear Jimmy’s voice in your head—his desperate attempts to explain, to apologize. But the words weren’t enough. Nothing could undo what you had seen, the way you had felt so invisible to him, as though all the love you had given him was nothing more than an afterthought.

Lily’s face flashed in your mind too. You couldn’t help but wonder if she knew about her brother’s lies, if she had been keeping secrets from you, just like Jimmy had. She was so sweet, so innocent, and you never wanted to hurt her by breaking things off with him. But how could you stay in this relationship? How could you continue pretending everything was okay when your heart was breaking in ways you couldn’t even put into words?

Your dog nuzzled his head against your arm, sensing your pain, and you couldn’t help but whisper to him, “Why does it hurt so much? I don’t deserve this...”

You hugged him tighter, your body shaking with sobs as the weight of the situation seemed to crush you. The room felt like it was closing in, the silence deafening except for your sniffles and the soft whimpering of your dog. You stared at the ceiling, wondering how things had gone so wrong. You had given so much to Jimmy—so much of yourself—and this was how he repaid you? The thought made your chest ache, and you squeezed your dog closer as if he could somehow take away the pain.

“I just want to forget everything,” you muttered into his fur, your voice muffled with the tears that wouldn’t stop. “I never want to see him again... I can’t... I can’t trust him anymore.”

You held onto your dog until you both fell into a restless sleep, your pillow wet from the endless tears. Your heart ached, the emptiness inside only growing larger with every passing second. There was no closure, no resolution. Just the overwhelming sense of betrayal and the painful truth that the person you had trusted most had broken that trust in the worst possible way.

You didn’t know what the future would hold, or how long it would take for the pain to fade, but for now, all you could do was let yourself cry it out, with only your dog beside you as a silent comfort in the dark hours of the night.

The next day, you dragged yourself to work, feeling the weight of the previous night’s tears clinging to your eyes. You were exhausted, but you forced yourself to focus, knowing that you had to make it through the shift. The soft hum of the diner and the clinking of coffee cups were a blur in your mind, but you tried to keep your composure.

Your coworkers quickly noticed the change in your demeanor. They were usually the ones to cheer you up on tough days, but today, they saw right through your forced smile.

"Y/N, are you okay?" your coworker Stephanie asked, her concern evident in her voice.

You hesitated, unsure of how much to share. But the exhaustion and hurt in your eyes must have given you away.

"I… I don’t really want to talk about it right now," you mumbled, forcing your attention back to the orders.

But Stephanie wasn’t having it. She put a hand on your shoulder, looking at you with sympathy.What happened? You’re usually so happy, and now... you look like you’ve been through hell."

The tears threatened to rise again, but you held them back. "He... he betrayed me. That’s all I can say," you replied quietly.

The other coworkers gathered around, each of them expressing their shock and disbelief. "I can’t believe he’d do that to you," Stephanie muttered, shaking her head. "You deserve so much better, Y/N. He doesn’t know how lucky he was to have you."

You nodded, forcing yourself to focus on the plates in front of you, though their words echoed in your head. You deserve better. It was hard to believe it, but hearing it from them, your friends, made you feel a little less alone.

By the time your shift ended, you were mentally and physically drained. You slipped into your coat, trying to shake off the lingering sadness, but the weight was still there. You just wanted to go home, to escape the world for a while.

As you walked out the door of the diner, you noticed a car parked nearby. It was Jimmy’s car.

Your heart sank.

He was waiting for you, sitting behind the wheel, his eyes locked on you as you approached. You tried to ignore him, hoping he would just leave, but he opened his door before you could pass.

"Y/N!" he called out, his voice thick with desperation.

You stopped in your tracks, your body tensing. You didn’t want to face him—not like this, not after everything.

But he was already out of the car, taking slow steps toward you. You could see the regret in his eyes, but it didn’t matter anymore.

"Please, just let me explain," he pleaded.

You didn’t respond, just pulled your coat tighter around yourself, bracing for the confrontation you didn’t want.

Jimmy’s voice broke through the cold air as he hurried to catch up with you. His footsteps quickened as he called your name once again, desperation lacing his words. “Y/N, please, just listen to me! I’ll do anything, anything to make this right, I swear! I love you.”

You stopped walking, taking a deep breath, trying to steady the storm of emotions raging inside you. The pain of betrayal was still so fresh, raw, and sharp, but you knew that you couldn’t keep running from this conversation. You turned to face him, meeting his pleading eyes, but your own were hardened.

“You don’t get it, Jimmy,” you said, your voice steady despite the tightness in your chest. “You can say all the right things now, but it doesn’t change what you did. I trusted you, and you... you broke that trust. We’ll never get back together.”

His face fell, the color draining from it as the weight of your words hit him. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He seemed lost for a moment, unable to grasp what you were saying, but you couldn’t let it stop you.

“I still care about you, but this—what you did—it's not something I can just forgive. I can’t forget it, and I won’t put myself through it again.”

You watched his shoulders sag, his head dropping in defeat. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I know I fucked up... I never should’ve hurt you like that. You mean so much to me. I never wanted to lose you.”

The words felt hollow, though, the sincerity of his apology lost in the wake of his actions. You gave him a moment of silence before speaking again, your tone a little softer now, though still resolute.

“I’ll never stop seeing Lily, Jimmy,” you said, your voice unwavering. “She’s a part of my life now. But as for us... we’re done.”

The finality of your words hung in the air between you. Jimmy didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, looking as if the weight of everything had finally settled on his shoulders.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, barely audible, his eyes filled with guilt and regret.

With one last heavy look, he turned away, walking back to his car without another word. The engine sputtered to life as he drove off, leaving you standing there, a deep sense of relief mingling with the ache in your chest.

You knew you had done the right thing. But as you watched his car disappear down the street, you couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever fully understand the depth of the hurt he had caused.

#SoundCloud #eminem #eminem x reader #marshall mathers x reader #eminem imagine #marshall mathers #marshall mathers imagine #slim shady #fluff and smut #b-rabbit #b-rabbit x reader #jimmy smith x reader #jimmy smith

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orchidniins · 1 year ago

Note

oh i NEED pt 2 of Serendipitous Beginnings🙏

Serendipitous Beginnings Pt. 2 | Arthur Frederick

Summary: Y/N and Arthur finally spend some much time together and go on their first date. Between movie nights and cute museum dates, it's clear they've fallen hard for each other. Pairings: ArthurTV x afab!Reader Warnings: Mature content, Smut, Fluff Word Count: 6k

A/N: Thanks to everyone who showed love on my first post! I wanted to write a part 2 for this with all the cute little ideas in my head. This fic is basically a little collection of events and just a little sprinkle of smut right at the end. I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist ⟡ Part 1

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You awaken on Saturday, later than your usual wake-up time, feeling a faint headache throbbing behind your temples. Despite the headache, your mind is abuzz with the memories of last night's conversations with Arthur. The lingering memories of the night's events are still fresh in your mind.

As you reach for your phone, a smile tugs at the corner of your lips, eager to see if Arthur had messaged you. Sure enough, his name lights up your screen, and you can't help but feel a rush of happiness as you read his message. The two of you had stayed up pretty much all night texting, the conversation flowing effortlessly between you.

Eventually, it was mutually decided to stop texting and finally catch some sleep, but now, even with maybe only two hours of sleep, you're still buzzing with excitement to keep the conversation going. You couldn't help but grin at your phone, fingers tapping out quick replies

Arthur: Hey! Morning! 😊 Arthur: Did you manage to get any sleep in? Y/N: Hey! Good Morning 😊 Y/N: Yeah, I did. Just barely. Did you sleep well? Arthur: Yeah, I managed to get a few hours in too. Couldn't stop thinking about our conversation though. Y/N: Haha, same here! I guess we'll just have to continue it in person, huh? 😉 Arthur: Did you wanna maybe grab some lunch today? Y/N: That sounds great! I'd love to. Where were you thinking? Arthur: How about that place we talked about yesterday? Y/N: Perfect! Can't wait 😊

Eagerly agreeing to meet Arthur for lunch, excitement courses through you at the thought of spending more time with him. However, as you're about to set your phone down, a sinking feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. You had completely forgotten about your plans with Sienna to meet up with a mutual friend who was in town for the weekend.

Y/N: Hey, Arthur! I'm so sorry, but something's come up for today. Can we reschedule for tomorrow? Arthur: Oh, no worries! Tomorrow won't work for me, I've got a shoot scheduled. Y/N: Ah, got it. No problem. Maybe another time then? Arthur: Definitely! Let's figure something out soon. 😊

After a bit more back-and-forth, the conversation trails off, leaving you feeling disappointed that your plans with Arthur didn't pan out. With a sigh, you set your phone aside and get out of bed, heading towards Sienna's bedroom to check in on her.

Entering her room, you find her sprawled out on the bed, half of her body hanging off the edge, her hair messy and makeup smeared. You try to wake her up gently, but she protests, murmuring, "No, not yet, five more minutes."

"Siii," you say, nudging her shoulder, "you know I turned down a date for this lunch today, so you better get up, or I'm gonna have to use violence." Sienna groans in response, still half-asleep, but your mention of a date piques her interest. "A date? What do you mean, a date?" she asks, her eyes fluttering open as she tries to grasp the situation.

You chuckle at her confusion. "I was just kidding, but we better make it to that café on time. You're the one who insisted we go there, even if it's a 50-minute drive from here. Now, get up." Sienna, still groggy, fixates on the idea of a date. "Okay, but what date?" she mumbles, her words slurred with sleep.

With a laugh, you shake your head and say, "Nothing, just get ready," before leaving her room to get ready yourself.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

Over the next few days, despite the promise to meet up, neither you nor Arthur seemed to find the time. It had been over a week since the initial plan was made, and your schedules were keeping you both occupied. Arthur had spent a few days away from London for a shoot, while your own commitments to classes, coursework, and your TA job filled your days from dawn till dusk.

The conversation between you over text seemed to flow effortlessly though. Whether it was during breaks between classes or late at night after a long day of work, hours slipped by unnoticed as you traded stories, shared interests, and laughed at each other's jokes. Even through the screen, you felt like there was undeniable chemistry.

In person, however, it was a different story. Whenever you crossed paths with Arthur in person, whether for the few minutes you had while entering or leaving your apartment, the atmosphere became charged with a hint of awkwardness. Your face-to-face interactions were tinged with an unspoken tension. Probably owing to the fact that neither of you had addressed the hot and steamy kiss shared the other night, leaving many unanswered questions. And neither of you knew how to broach the subject, leaving the issue lingering between you like an elephant in the room.

Today, you're rushing out of your apartment, a whirlwind of activity as you stuff papers into your backpack, your mind preoccupied with the evening class you volunteered to handle for a professor.

You stand outside the elevator, tapping your foot impatiently, waiting for the doors to open. As they slide open, you're about to step in when you're met with Arthur's smiling face.

"Hey," Arthur greets you warmly, his eyes brightening at the sight of you.

"Hey," you reply, mustering a smile as you step into the elevator beside him.

"How're things going?" Arthur asks, his voice laced with genuine interest.

"All good," you respond, offering a brief nod. "Just heading to TA for an evening class."

Arthur nods in understanding. "You've been pretty occupied lately, huh?"

You chuckle softly. "Yeah, well you know… Where are you off to?"

"I'm meeting some friends for a drink.", Arthur responds.

"That sounds fun," you say, though inwardly you can't help but feel a twinge of disappointment that your paths are diverging once again.

The elevator ride continues in silence, the awkward tension lingering between you like a thick fog. You bite your tongue, racking your brain for something to say to break the uneasy atmosphere. Finally, just as the elevator doors slide open, you blurt out, "Are you free tomorrow night?"

Arthur's eyebrows raise in surprise. "Um, I think so," he replies, sounding intrigued.

"I was thinking of having a movie marathon," you explain, feeling a surge of nervous energy. "And I was hoping to have someone along for it."

A hint of a smile plays at the corners of Arthur's lips. "That sounds like a plan," he says, his eyes brightening with interest. "What were you thinking of watching?"

You grin, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "How about 'The Lord of the Rings'?" you suggest eagerly.

Arthur's eyes light up at the suggestion. "Yes! I love Lord of the Rings. Have you watched the extended versions? If not, we could watch those," he says, genuine excitement in his voice.

Just as excited, you reply, "Yeah! I’d love that."

"Great, sounds like a plan," Arthur confirms with enthusiasm.

Feeling a weight lift off your shoulders, you say, "My place tomorrow? I’ll text you the time."

"Definitely. I'll see you then," Arthur replies.

With that, you bid Arthur goodbye as you step out of the elevator, feeling a sense of excitement building in your chest. Maybe this movie marathon would finally give you the chance to address the elephant in the room and see where things could go with Arthur. But your thoughts are interrupted by the fact that you didn't want to be late to set up for class. You wave him goodbye and head out.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

Before you know it, the day of your movie night arrives. You make sure to stock up on snacks and drinks, preparing for a cozy evening. With Sienna out of the city for work till next week, you have the place all to yourself. You take the time to set up the couch with extra pillows and grab an additional blanket from Sienna's room, ensuring everything is just right for your evening with Arthur.

However, for a fleeting moment, you can't help but overthink why you're going to such lengths. It's not like this was a date, just two friends hanging out. But you quickly brush off the thought when you hear a knock on your door. Taking a deep breath to shake off the nerves, you stride over to the door and swing it open, revealing Arthur standing on the other side.

"Hey!" he greets you with a warm smile, holding up a bag of snacks. "I brought some snacks for movie night. Hope you like popcorn and chocolate!"

You return his smile, feeling relieved at the sight of him. "That's perfect! Come on in," you say, stepping aside to let him enter. "I've set up the living room for our movie marathon. Make yourself at home."

As Arthur steps in, you close the door behind him, trying your best to calm your nerves. Tonight was supposed to be fun, you remind yourself, a simple movie watching experience between friends. Definitely not a date, just two friends hanging out.

You settle onto the couch, gesturing for Arthur to join you. He takes off his jacket and joins you. There's a brief moment of silence as you both get comfortable, but you're determined to keep the atmosphere light.

"So, how's your week been?" you asked, turning to Arthur in an attempt to break the awkward silence.

Arthur leaned back against the cushions, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. "Kind of busy," he replied with a chuckle. "Filming schedules have been hectic lately, but it's been pretty fun filming with my mates. How about you?"

You shrugged, a wry smile playing on your lips. "Same old, same old. Classes, TA gig, grading papers, dealing with undergrads….," You trail off, not wanting to bore him with the details of your day-to-day responsibilities.

But Arthur seems genuinely interested. "I bet you're great at it though," he says, leaning closer, his eyes sparkling with sincerity.

You feel a warmth spread through you at his words, grateful for his encouragement. "Haha, thanks, Arthur," you reply, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, your eyes locked with his.

As the movie progressed, you found yourselves immersed in discussing your favorite scenes and characters. The initial awkwardness began to dissipate, replaced by an easy flow of conversation and laughter, and soon the movie became nothing more than background noise.

Before long, you realized that as the conversation flowed, you were sitting much closer to Arthur. Your knees brushed against each other as you faced one another on the couch. His arm draped over the back, his fingers lightly grazing your shoulder, sending delightful shivers down your spine.

Lost in the moment, you couldn't help but wonder why you had ever felt awkward around him in the first place. It felt as though the universe had conspired to bring you together. The desire to kiss him again bubbled up inside you, igniting a warmth that spread through your entire being.

With each passing second, it became increasingly difficult to ignore the palpable tension between you, leaving you hopeful that perhaps Arthur felt the same way.

In the silence that followed, the air between you seemed charged with anticipation. Slowly, almost hesitantly, the two of you leaned in towards each other, the space between you narrowing with each heartbeat.

His gaze met yours, "This feels familiar," Arthur murmured, breaking the silence. You couldn't help but laugh, relieved that at least one of you had acknowledged it.

"Does it now?" you replied, a playful grin tugging at the corners of your lips. "So, you do remember."

"How could I forget?" Arthur's voice was barely above a whisper, his words sending a shiver down your spine. "It's been on my mind ever since."

As he leaned in closer, a surge of excitement coursed through you. "Well, good then," you replied, your heart pounding in your chest. Without hesitation, his lips meet yours.

You shifted closer, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you into him. With a gentle but firm grip, he pulled you onto his lap, your bodies fitting together perfectly as if they were meant to be intertwined. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt of electricity through your body.

You melt into each other in a passionate kiss, the world around you seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you in your own private universe. His lips were soft, moving with a rhythm that matched yours. With each brush of his lips, it sends the blood rushing down to your core.

Lost in the heat of the kiss, you pressed yourself closer to him. Tangling your hands in his soft hair, savoring the feeling of his arms around you, the warmth of his body against yours.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, you found yourself lost in his gaze, unable to tear your eyes away from his. And you couldn’t remember the last time someone looked at you with such intensity.

As you both caught your breath, a wave of relief washed over you, the tension that had been building between you finally dissipating. With a gentle smile, he breaks the silence, his voice soft but determined. "Let me take you on a proper date," he says, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Okay," you chuckle softly, feeling excited at his words, a fluttering in your stomach as you look back at him. "I’m free this Friday," you reply, your voice filled with warmth. With a playful smile, you lean in and give him a little peck on the lips.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

You were thrilled when Arthur suggested meeting at the history museum after class, eagerly looking forward to spending time together. You even took the extra effort to dress up a bit for the occasion. However, as you hurriedly made your way there, excitement turned to frustration as you realized you were running late. The class you were assisting in had unexpectedly extended, leaving you racing against time as the museum's closing hour approached. You quickly texted Arthur, apologizing for the delay and assured him that you were on your way, determined to make it there as soon as possible.

Y/N: Hey, sorry I'm running a bit late 😅 Y/N: Class ran over, but I'll be there soon! Arthur: No worries at all. I'm just glad you can make it Arthur: Take your time 😊

With determination, you quicken your pace, determined not to let the opportunity slip away. As you finally arrive at the museum, you spot Arthur waiting patiently outside the entrance. He looks great, dressed in a nice crewneck sweatshirt and black cargos, it makes your heart skip a beat at just how good he looked.

You hurry over to him, eager to make up for lost time. "Hey!" you exclaim, a wide smile spreading across your face as you reach him.

"Hey," Arthur greets you warmly, his eyes lighting up with genuine delight at the sight of you. He opens his arms, inviting you into a warm embrace.

You gladly accept the hug, reveling in his warmth and the comforting scent of his cologne. "Sorry I'm late," you say softly, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze.

Arthur shakes his head, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. "No need to apologize. I'm just happy you're here now," he assures you, his voice filled with warmth.

You feel a surge of relief at his response. "Thanks for waiting," you say gratefully, reaching out to give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

Arthur squeezes your hand back, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. "Of course, it's no problem. We can always do something else if the museum's closed," he suggests, ever the considerate gentleman, despite the museum being almost 15 mins past closing.

But you shake your head, determined not to let the evening go to waste. "No, no, just trust me on this," you insist.

Arthur raises an eyebrow, intrigued by your enthusiasm. "Alright… I trust you," he says with a smile, willing to go along with your plan.

With a grin, you take Arthur's hand and lead him towards the side entrance of the museum. As you walk, you quickly glance at your phone to confirm the last-minute plans one final time, the ones you made on the subway over, sending a quick text message. Then, slipping your phone back into your pocket, you look up to flash Arthur a smile, and he returns it with warmth in his eyes.

You head to the side entrance and spot your friend. Waving enthusiastically, you exchange greetings and shake hands, expressing your gratitude once again. "Thank you again, I owe you big time," you say appreciatively.

"Not a problem at all," your friend responds warmly as he lets the two of you in "Anything for a friend. Just make sure to leave before 8 p.m."

You nod in agreement and turn to Arthur, excitement bubbling within you as you lead him inside. His curious gaze prompts you to explain the situation. "That guy was an old graduate advisor of mine," you begin, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "He's works here as a curator now."

Arthur's eyes widen with interest as he looks around, taking in the museum's atmosphere. "I have to say… that’s quite impressive," he remarks, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"Yeah, his job's pretty cool," you reply, nodding in agreement.

But Arthur interrupts you before you can say anything further. "No, not that… you. You are quite surprising… in a good way," he adds with a playful smirk, his hand still holding yours. You feel a blush creeping up to your cheeks at his compliment.

You chuckle softly, feeling shy at his words, "Just give me more time to impress you further with my wildly interesting mind," you playfully quip, unable to contain the grin that spreads across your face.

Arthur's smile widens in response, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he admires your playful banter.

Turning away to hide your embarrassment, you reply, "Anyways, we have two hours now… best not waste any time," as you pull him towards the main hall.

The museum is bathed in the soft glow of a few lights, casting a gentle ambiance over the now empty hall. Excitement courses through you as you eagerly lead Arthur around, pointing out each exhibit with enthusiasm. Arthur listens intently, his eyes filled with genuine interest as he witnesses how passionate you sound.

With each second passing, he finds himself increasingly impressed by just how intelligent you are, finding himself melting at each of your words.

He often found himself just looking at you, mesmerized by your beauty, and sometimes forgetting to even glance at the displays. It still felt surreal to him that you were here with him right now.

"You know," you share, a hint of nostalgia coloring your voice, "when I was a kid, my dad used to bring me here whenever he had work in the city. He’d always bring me along with him."

"It's always been one of my favorite places in London," you conclude with a smile.

Arthur smiles warmly, his admiration evident as he responds, "I can see why."

As the two of you continue to explore the halls, the world outside the museum fades away, leaving you in your own private sanctuary. Stolen glances, brushes of hands, and a shared electricity fill the air, making this the most enjoyable date you've ever had.

As the evening progresses, you find yourselves completely immersed in each other's company, sharing stories and laughing without a care in the world. Arthur's admiration for you grows with each passing moment, his heart feeling lighter in your presence. Lost in the magic of the moment, you both find yourselves laughing and running around the museum halls, creating memories that will last a lifetime. Arthur captures candid photos of you, the echoes of your laughter filling the empty corridors.

Caught up in the magic of the moment, Arthur can't help but stare at you with admiration, his eyes drinking in your beauty. You stand before a display of jade artifacts, leaning closer to examine the intricate details, while sharing a story about a similar find or an excavation you volunteered on last year. "This is fascinating, isn’t it?" you remark, turning to Arthur with a sparkle in your eyes.

As you await his response, you're met with a lingering gaze, his eyes intense and unwavering. Feeling a warmth spread across your cheeks, you can't help but inquire with a small chuckle, "What?"

"You know," he begins, his voice soft with sincerity, "you're absolutely stunning."

You chuckle at his compliment, feeling a warm blush spread across your cheeks. "Oh, stop it," you tease, playfully nudging him. "You're not so bad yourself."

His gaze remains fixed on you, his expression filled with genuine affection. "I mean it," he insists, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're truly amazing."

You meet his gaze, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest. "Well, I guess I can't argue with that," you joke, a playful grin tugging at the corners of your lips. "But I must say, you're not so bad at dishing out compliments either." You pause, your tone softening. "Thanks, Arthur."

Arthur smiles warmly, his eyes reflecting the sincerity of his words. "Anytime," he replies, his hand squeezing yours gently. "I just call it like I see it."

With a contented sigh, you fully face him now, reveling in the comfortable silence that envelops you both. The quiet of the museum amplifies the intimacy of the moment, and you find yourself drawn to Arthur, his presence filling you with warmth and affection.

Arthur leans in closer, his heart pounding in his chest as he presses a soft kiss to your lips. As he pulls away slightly, his breath tickling your skin.

You smile back at him, your cheeks flushed as your hand finds the back of his head, gently pulling him closer. As your lips meet his, you eagerly return the kiss, losing yourself in the sensation of his lips against yours. In that moment, nothing else matters, not caring about the passing time or potential interruptions.

As you reluctantly pull away, a soft smile plays on your lips. "It's getting late," you murmur, glancing at your watch. "A lot later than we were supposed to stay."

Arthur rests his forehead against yours, smiling down at you. "Okay, let's head back," he suggests, his voice tinged with a hint of disappointment.

"But hey, how about we grab dinner on the way back?" you suggest, a playful glint lighting up Arthur's eyes as he nods eagerly.

With a smile, you reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers as you make your way out of the museum. As you walk, you take a moment to text your friend, expressing your gratitude for letting the two of you sneak in and apologizing for overstaying your welcome.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

After leaving the museum, the two of you walked a few blocks to a cozy restaurant nearby, to grab some food before you sadly had to end your date. The warm glow of the restaurant's interior welcomed you as you stepped inside, finding a quiet corner to enjoy your meal together.

As you savored each bite and shared lighthearted conversation, it became evident that neither of you were quite ready to end the evening just yet. With a reluctant sigh, you eventually found yourselves back in the lobby of your apartment building, waiting for the elevator to arrive.

The anticipation hung heavy in the air as you stood side by side, nerves buzzing beneath the surface. Unable to resist the urge any longer, you finally turned to Arthur, your voice tinged with nervousness. "Do you want to come back to mine?" you asked, your heart pounding in your chest.

Arthur's gaze met yours, his eyes reflecting a hint of apprehension. Slowly, he nodded his head, his own nerves evident.

He had been to your place before, but tonight felt different, the stakes somehow higher, or perhaps that was just the horny part of his brain taking over. He wanted nothing more than to be glued by your side, yet he also wanted to be respectful of your boundaries, especially after the wonderful time you had today.

A nervous chuckle escaped him as he tried to ease the tension. "I'd love to," he replied with a slight voice crack. You couldn't help but laugh, your laughter bubbling up uncontrollably, joined by his as you both shared in the moment, breaking the tension that had settled between you.

As soon as you and Arthur step into your apartment, the door closes behind you with a soft click, enveloping you both in the intimate glow of the dimly lit space. The air feels somewhat thicker, and though you had spent quite a cute and romantic evening, all you could think about was just how much you wanted him right now.

As if on autopilot, your body moves on its own accord. You close the distance between you in an instant, pressing your lips against his. Your hands instinctively find their way to his firm chest, while his slowly rise to grasp your waist, pulling you closer as you usher him further into the apartment. The kiss is hungry and urgent, reflecting the desire between you two.

You continue to kiss each other, your lips locked in a fervent kiss. Occasionally, you break apart just long enough to catch your breath. As the heat between you grows, your hands roam eagerly.

In the midst of your passionate exchange, you manage to breathe out a whispered "Bedroom," your warm breath grazing his skin, sending shivers down his spine. Without hesitation, you both stumble together towards the bedroom, both of you equally as eager.

Once you're in your bedroom, you guide him to sit on the edge of the bed, your movements fluid and confident. You position yourself between his legs, feeling the heat radiating from his body as his hands find their place on your hips, pulling you closer.

You lean in, capturing his lips again, igniting a fiery passion between you. His hands trail up the back of your shirt, leaving tingles in their wake as you deepen the kiss, your fingers tangling in his soft, fluffy hair.

With newfound boldness, his hands move down to your ass, giving it a teasing squeeze that sends a jolt of electricity through you, before he trails his hands down to the back of your thighs.

Arthur pulls you onto his lap, a low hum escaping his lips as you shuffle over his growing arousal. You bite down on his bottom lip, a gasp escaping you as you feel the hardness beneath his clothes. "God, Arthur," you breathe out, your voice heavy with desire as his hands continue to knead the soft flesh of your thighs.

As your shirts come off in the heat of the moment, your hands eagerly explore his body, tracing every contour and eliciting soft groans from him. His mouth and tongue muffle your shuddering gasp as you grind yourself against his clothed crotch, the friction sending waves of pleasure coursing through both of you. Your kisses grow more passionate, tongues intertwining, exploring each other's mouths desperately.

You pant out his name, your body overtaken by the intense sensation, but Arthur suddenly pulls away from the kiss and grips your hips firmly, halting your movements. Confusion clouds your expression, wondering if this wasn't what he wanted after all.

He notices the flicker of self-doubt in your eyes, his hand instinctively reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his smile as reassuring as ever. "Don't worry, darling," he begins, his voice gentle yet earnest. "I love what we're doing, don’t get me wrong…big fan of sex, and you are incredibly sexy. But I just want to make sure you know that I like you very much, Y/n. I mean, really like you. This is more than just something physical for me. I love spending time with you, and I think you are one of the most beautiful women I have ever had the opportunity to lay my eyes on."

You melt at his heartfelt words, a blush creeping up on your cheeks at his sincerity. Arthur's genuine expression reassures you, his intent clear as day. It's endearing how he takes the time to ensure there's no doubt in your mind about his feelings.

You reach for his face, holding it gently between your hands as you stare deeply into his captivating eyes. "I really like you too, you know," you admit, sincerity echoing in your voice. "I don't just jump into bed with any odd guy." A smile dances on your lips as you share a brief moment of understanding, sealing it with a small kiss on the tip of his nose.

As you pull back, his fingers linger on your waist for a few seconds, sending goosebumps rippling across your skin in a sweet, tingling sensation.

As you resume kissing, your hands begin to trail down to the button of his trousers, starting to undo them. But once again, Arthur stops you, gently pulling away from your embrace. "Wait," he murmurs, his voice low and husky, "Lay down on your back for me."

You comply, as Arthur gently moves you off of him, the anticipation building as you settle onto the bed, watching intently as Arthur moves closer. With ease, he helps you slide off your jeans and panties, his touch sending tingles down your spine, each moment feeling more intimate than the last.

Once you're fully exposed before him, Arthur takes a moment to admire the sight before him, his gaze filled with desire and admiration. He begins to remove his own clothes, his movements deliberate yet filled with an undeniable hunger.

The atmosphere in the room shifted from one of urgency and desperation to something lighter and sweeter. He leaned over you, his touch gentle and reassuring as he positioned himself between your legs. With one hand resting softly on your hip and the other providing support beside you, he lowered his head to spread kisses along your body. Each touch of his lips spreads a heat throughout your body, making you even wetter than you already were.

As his lips found their way to your breast, a soft sigh escaped your lips. Arthur's mouth moved with a practiced rhythm, his movements calculated to elicit the sweetest of moans from you. With each kiss and gentle suckle, he drew out your pleasure, his touch igniting a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing moment.

His lips trailed from your breast to your neck, peppering delicate kisses along the sensitive skin. Finding a spot that made you gasp and arch your back, he lingered there, his ministrations drawing out a deep, primal moan from deep within you. He had surely left a mark, something that you would have to worry about covering up tomorrow.

Arthur shifts slightly, supporting himself as he rises, granting you an enticing view of his hard cock. With a few quick pumps of his hand, he looks at you, both your eyes glazed with undeniable lust. Without a word, he poses the question, "Condom?"

Your body slightly moves to the side and your hand reaches instinctively to the nightstand drawer, quickly retrieving a foil packet. You tear it open, pulling out the condom. As you carefully slide it down his throbbing length, a soft groan escapes him, his body responding eagerly to your gentle touch.

The anticipation hangs heavy in the air as the two of you lock eyes, dark with desire. You search his eyes for any hint of hesitation or doubt, but all you find is pure admiration reflected back at you. And in that moment, there was no need for words, you knew how much you craved each other.

He gently rubs the tip of his cock against you. Your eyes shut tight, a soft moan escaping your lips as you feel the sensation of his cock exploring your wet folds.

Arthur's voice breaks through the haze of desire as he asks, "Ready?" You nod eagerly in response, your body craving the intimate connection that only he can provide. With a gentle thrust, he enters you, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips. Your hands instinctively grip his shoulders for support, while his hands firmly grasp your hips, guiding each rhythmic movement with care.

You pant out his name between breathy moans, the sound reverberating in the air as he continues to thrust into you. "Arthur," you gasp.

He pauses, his movements slowing, and he looks down at you with genuine concern. "Is this okay?" he asks softly, his eyes searching yours for any hint of discomfort. In that moment, the connection between you felt deeper than mere physicality and it all started to feel more intimate and meaningful.

He waits for your response, his breath mingling with yours as he gazes into your eyes. When you nod in affirmation, a wave of relief washes over his face. With a tender smile, he resumes his movements, each stroke of his cock against you more passionate and deliberate than the last.

Arthur murmurs, "Y/N, you feel absolutely amazing, darling," as he grunts with each slow thrust, a subtle force behind each movement now, hitting your sweet spot deliciously.

You grip his shoulders tighter, your voice a low moan. "Fuck, Arthur."

Your moans and grunts intertwine, echoing throughout the empty apartment as the two of you become lost in each other.

Arthur rests his forehead against yours, his movements still steady as he continues to pleasure you. A soft smile graces his lips as he whispers, "You're so beautiful, Y/N," planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.

Your mind swims in a sea of pleasure, every sensation heightened as you surrender to the moment.

Arthur maintains his pace, gradually speeding up as the intensity between you heightens. Each movement feels like a perfect fit, as if your bodies were made to intertwine in this exact moment. As you feel your orgasm approaching, you can't help but release a string of uncontrollable moans, "Shit, Arthur, I'm close."

Arthur slows his pace slightly, his thrusts becoming deeper and more intense with each movement. You can feel him filling you completely, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. "Me too," he responds breathlessly, his arousal evident in his voice, matching the urgency in yours.

Moments later, Arthur reaches his peak, his release triggering your own. You cry out into the crook of his neck as waves of ecstasy wash over you, your bodies trembling in the aftermath of shared pleasure.

Both of you are left as absolute panting messes, your bodies still intertwined. His lips move across your face, peppering tender kisses everywhere, trailing down to your neck where he places a kiss at the mark he had previously left.

Gently, he pulls out of you and excuses himself momentarily. He returns with a wet towel from the bathroom, carefully cleaning you up before tossing the towel aside. A gentle peck on your lips follows, his affectionate gesture speaking volumes.

Settling into the spot next to you, he pulls you onto his chest, his arms wrapped protectively around you. "I'm so lucky to have met you," he murmurs softly, his words laced with sincerity. He places a sweet peck on your forehead, feeling the weight of the day finally catch up with you as sleep begins to overtake you.

You snuggle closer, a contented smile gracing your lips. "No you have no idea how lucky I am," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. With a final sigh of contentment, you drift off into a peaceful slumber in his embrace, the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into a deep sleep.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A/N: Thanks again to everyone who sends in requests. I appreciate all of you so much. I have about 6 works in my drafts right now that I am working on getting out as quickly as possible.

Check out my other fics and oneshots here. Not working on any new requests currently but feel free to drop into my asks for a chat! 😊

#arthurtv #arthurtv x reader #arthurtv imagines #arthurtv fics #arthurtv smut #smut #arthur frederivk #arthur frederick imagines #arthur frederick smut #chaos crew #youtube imagines #arthur frederick x reader #george clarke #chrismd #arthur hill #george clarkey

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daddysfangirls-marvel · 8 months ago

Text

Polyamorous: Inexperience pt.1

*Bonus*

Stucky x fem!reader \ Steve Roger x fem!reader x Bucky Barnes

Warning: Smut, fluff

Polyamorous Material List

(Y/n) didn't bother knocking on the door, going straight for the hidden key and unlocking it. Already familiar with the apartment, she tosses her jacket on the back of the armchair and going into the kitchen. " I'm so sorry I'm-oh" (Y/n) quickly turned around and covered her eyes. " I'm sorry, so sorry".

"Okay," Bucky said as he helped Steve off the kitchen counter and they adjusted themselves, fix themselves. But still with flush faces, swollen lips, and ruffled clothes it was very clear what was happening. That and Steve didn't adjust himself as well as Bucky.

"I'm sorry I'm late my father kept me at the store."

" It's alright, dinner is still warm." Bucky said as he pulled out a chair for her. Steve took his seat quickly trying his best to hide his 'situation'. " Beef Stew and biscuits."

"Bread is fresh I got it from the bakery this morning." Steve said doing his best not to make eye contact. Bucky went to dish out the bowls.

(Y/n) reached across the small table taking his hand in hers. He looked up at her. "Thank you, it smells wonderful. Thank you for all of this." Steve flushed not knowing how to take the praise.

"How you're mom doing?"

"She's well, doing much better . They've recently assigned her to the tuberculosis ward. The pay is higher but the hours are longer too." The new risk was unsaid.

Steve's mother, Ms. Sarah, was a nurse and had been jumping between wards for as long as one could remember. She always went where help was most needed. While everyone thought her very admirable it was also very scary. They feard that one day she'd pick something up from one of her patients and not be able to shake it or worse give it to Steve who had a very weak health.

"She'll be working late tonight. I've already set aside some dinner for her," Bucky said as he placed the bowls on the table and returned to the kitchen.

" My father thinks I'm having a sleep over with Rebecca. Hope your sister doesn't mind being my excuse, Bucky."

"She loves you and will tell any lie you need." he said as he placed three wine glasses on the table. The two looked at him confused as he produced a bottle of wine "Pinot Noir, franch "

"where did you get that? you can't afford that."

"Well forunately for us darling this fell off the back of a truck"

"You stole" Steve moved to scold him.

"No, it literally fell off the back of a truck. I wasn't going to waste it." Bucky defened himself as he popped the cork" Don't we deserve some luxury. Something fancy for once." he pours a glass " Plus, when will any of us ever be able to afford a bottle of wine like this. We can barely afford the cheap stuff. Please, enjoy it now."

He passed the glass to Steve. He sighed and took it while glaring he brings the glass to his lips and has a sip. " Taste expensive."

(Y/n) giggled, Bucky fills her glass. He finally sits and all three of them raise their glasses. " A toast?"

"yes, A toast to us and to now. To always being together." Steve said

"We three may never part" (Y/n) said

" Damn right" Bucky cheered.

After dinner, the three moved themselves to the front room. Bucky and (Y/n) found themselves lost in their book, him on the floor and she on the couch, with Steve sketching them while a radio played softly in the background. He is on the couch with (Y/n).

(Y/n) was so engrossed in her book that she fell to notice when Steve abandoned his sketch and moved to read over her shoulder. Bucky watched in amusement for a few minutes as the two cuddled up to each other without even realizing it.

They curled up to each other, becoming closer and closer with each turn of a page. He also noticed how flushed each of them were becoming. Interesting.

"Whatcha reading?" She snapped the book shut, and Bucky couldn't help but laugh at how stunned they both looked. They looked like a pair of kids who got caught doing something they definitely shouldn't have been doing. "Okay, now you have to show me." He stood up and approached them, holding his hand out for the book. (Y/n) held the book close to her chest.

"It's just a book."

"An interesting book."

"What makes you think that?"

"How you cling to the cover, your flushed face, Steve's bulge." Steve quickly moves to cover his 'situation.'Bucky grinned as (Y/n) sighed and passed him the book. She moved to hide her face in a pillow as Bucky flipped through the book. " Let's see what's got you two so red."

"Bucky," Steve pleaded

" 'I should …really...get back to work.' Levi said in between her kisses but made no attempt to stop her or move her off of his lap. OH . Untying his tie she tosses it on the other end of the couch and began to unbutton his shirt as her lips moved to his neck hoping to mark her territory."

"Okay, that's enough." (Y/n) stood up and tried to take the book from him, but he held it above her head.

" he groaned as she choked on his - " the book was ripped from his hand and tossed across the room before he could even read ahead. He was shocked as he looked at her "What the fuck?"

"Sorry, I just -sorry."

"It's okay, I was just teasing. I'm sorry."

"I overreacted."

"You think." That earned Steve a pillow to the face. Bucky sat on the couch beside her. "where did you get that book anyway?" He asked

"Discount basket."

It took a moment, but the three of them began to laugh. They laugh hysterically for several minutes. Only stopping when they were finally out of breath.

"Getting dirty at a discount"

"Shush, Buck"

"Why'd you throw it?" he asked

"Wasn't a good read," she said, shrugging.

"Really, you seemed quite interested in it. Both of you."

" Mom won't be back until tomorrow morning," Steve suddenly said, gaining the attention of the two—one in confusion, the other in shock and joy. " we have the place to ourselves."

He took note of her confusion, and he began to stutter, " We-we could do it. Since we're al-lone."

Still confused.

"Sex. Steve is saying he's ready for sex."

"Oh," her voice reached a new pitch.

"We don't have to. Not really we-"

"Okay, I think I'm ready too."

They both turned to Bucky.

After talking some more in the front room, the three moved into the bedroom. Bucky took Steve into the bathroom to help him get ready, leaving (y/n) alone. (Y/n) had removed her dress and stockings and was now having an internal debate about whether she should take off her slip as well leaving her in her underwear.

She quickly lost her decision as the door opened, and the two stepped in, Bucky in his pants and tank top and Steve with a towel around his waist.

"Hi," she said

"hi," Steve returned.

Bucky sat at the desk, and Steve and (y/n) stood in front of him, waiting for instructions. Inexperienced students waiting for their experienced teacher.

" I want you two to be comfortable and enjoy this. You should experience each other first."

"You just want to watch us," Steve scoffed, crossing his arms

"Yeah, you're a perv." (Y/n) agreed.

"Sure am. Now put on a show for this perv."

And confidence is gone. The two just stood there for a moment, fidgeting. It was Steve who got the courage to make the first move, asking to kiss. Bucky watched as the two kissed, starting off as gentle and sweet before progressing into a more heated kiss. He took note of their hands (Y/n)'s hands, pulled at her slip, and hovered over Steve's chest. His hand gripped his towel. Both seemed eager yet afraid to touch.

"You can use your hands." He encouraged. (Y/n) was the first one to move, putting her hands on his shoulders. She pulled him closer before suddenly pushing him away. Steve had quickly thought he had did something wrong and stepped back further ready to apologize before he realized she was just removing her slip.

Quickly stepping out of it, she reaches Steve again and-

"What is that?" Bucky asked, interrupting and reminding them they weren't alone. They stepped back from each other. " What are you wearing? What is that?"

"My girdle?"

"When did you start wearing a girdle? I've never noticed."

" I've... I gained some weight in the back, and I've been having trouble...This slims me out." she kind of wished she kept her slip on now not liking where the attention was going.

"You don't need to slim out," Steve said. "You're beautiful."

"Thank you." She decided to keep the comments about how this beauty fit her clothes a bit too tight to herself. Now was not the time for that. Plus they couldn't help anyways.

" How about we take it off," Bucky said, motioning her over. As she stepped forward, he tugged on her girdle and was surprised to find how tight it was. Giving it a few more big tugs it finally came off. " Much better".

She gasped as he kissed her stomach, fueling the heat that was growing in her stomach.

"you should move to the bed."

"Okay." She moved to the bed, pulling Steve with her. She connected their lips again with far more eagerness than before, her hands feeling aimlessly against his flushed skin, gripping and pulling at anything she could get her hands on. Steve left himself to her mercy, letting her take whatever she wanted, simply breathing her in, accepting everything she gave, feeling the heat between their bodies.

"Take off the rest," Bucky called attention to himself. " If you want to actually do it, you need to take off the rest."

No longer shy, the two eagerly shed the last of their clothes.

In the year since their physical relationship began, the throuple had had several intimate moments that involved heavy petting, hands, and fingers and clothes. They had never removed each other's clothes. Some form of fabric was always between them.

Until now.

(y/n) stood shyly, chest red, nipples hard, and a wetness between her thighs that would have had her embarrassed in any other situation. But right now, she was busy eyeing Steve.

Steve stood more like a soldier, chin up, chest out, and head forward. Standing at attention, much like his cock. Which stood tall and wrapped. His stance was more so helpful with his heart rate and breathing. The moment (Y/n) removed her clothes, he lost his breath and feared he'd have an asthma attack before they could even start and ruin everything.

Bucky saw this, the way Steve was breathing through his nose and clenching his hands at his side, clear signs of fighting an oncome asthma attack. He decided to step in a bit more.

"Alright, Stevie, lay down." He was quick to follow instructions. Laying across the bed. Bucky took (Y/n)'s hand and led her to the bed. Helping her up and to straddle Steve sitting on his thighs. He sits next to them.

"Now listen, doll, I'm about to teach you something very important," he said to (y/n) as he kissed her nose. He then pulls a square package out of his pocket. She reaches for it, but he pulls it away. " What is is?"

"A condom?"

"Yes, and I'm going to teach you how to put it on Stevie here, okay?" she nods. " Mind being our test dummy punk." He leaned down to kiss him.

Opening the package, he hands it to (Y/N), and they handle it together. Him placing his hands over hers.

Steve gasped as they touched him, slowly stroking him. " Make sure he's tall and stiff for us." He moaned as they swiped his tip, which was leaking pre-cum. Bucky watched as (Y/n) sighed slightly, licking her lips. Something to explore at another time.

"And now, we're going to pinch the tip and roll it down." Steve closed his eyes tossed his head back and held his breath. They rolled it down all the way to the base and gave it a squeeze.

"Ta-da, you do so well," Bucky said as he leaned down, kissing Steve's neck. "Almost there."

He kisses (Y/n) neck. His fingers went down, and she gasped as she felt him touching her lips. She was more than wet enough.

"Are we ready?"

(Y/n) and Steve nodded nervously. He let go and stepped back, sitting at the desk again. They looked at him, confused.

"This is for the two of you. I'm just watching." Bucky said," Or I could leave and give you some privacy if you'd like?"

"NO" they both screamed.

"Please, no," Steve said, his breath starting to pick up as he sat up

"Please don't go. What if we do something wrong?" Syn said

" I won't go," Bucky said. " And do what feels natural. Follow your instincts and ask if need be. You'll be alright."

They two looked at him nervously, and he just nodded. They both turned back toward each other.

"Hi," they whispered to each other.

(Y/n) took a deep breath before lifting her hips. Steve gasped as she took him in her hands. She held her breath as she started to slowly sink onto him. Steve gasped as the tip slipped in the warmth, wetness, and tightness. (Y/n) whimpered as he slipped further in.

"STOP" Steve shouted breathlessly as he reached up, gripping her hips. " Fuck, please stop. I need to breathe."

"oh, oh no. Are you having an asthma attack? I can get off."

"No." Steve stopped her from getting up, gripping her hips tighter." I just need a moment to breathe. To catch my breath."

"Steve," Bucky spoke up. " You can stop here."

"No, I don't want to. I just need a moment, please."

"Okay, okay," (Y/n) leaned down, kissing his cheek. "Take your time."

Fortunately, he only needed a few minutes before he thought himself read (her thighs were starting to burn). She sunk the rest of the way down, taking all of him. Steve whimpered and dug his nails into her hip.

"Can I move?" (y/n) asked

"God, yes, please, yes." closing his eyes and tossing his head back.

She did as told. Slowly, she started going up and down, bouncing on him and moaning softly. She leaned forward, placing her hands on either side of his head. She continued to bounce. The sound of moans and skin slapping filled the room.

The site, the sound, Bucky couldn't help himself as he slipped his hand into his pants, finding his already leaking cock. He bit back a moan as he began to stroke himself as he watched (Y/n) start to bounce faster.

" I -I want a kiss," (Y/n) asked, still bouncing on Steve." Please, can I have a kiss, Stevie?"

He opened his eyes and-

"NGH ahhh"

He came.

The site of her leaning over, face and chest flushed, breast so close, and then further now where they were still connected. Yeah, he came in an instant. (Y/n) stopped.

"Fuck, I'm- I'm so sorry. I don't- I didn't-"

"That was a pretty face," she suddenly said, and it was. It made that feeling in her stomach tighter and warmer. She wished it lasted longer, that she had taken a picture of it, and that he'd done it again.

"Shit" They both looked up to see Bucky slumped down in his seat with a hand down his pants and a large wet spot formed on his pants.

(Y/n) started to sit up and remove Steve.

"Doll, did you finish?" Bucky asked.

"Um, no. But that's okay. A friend told me girls can't always finish like boys." (Y/n) just shrugged it off.

"No." Bucky removed his hand from his pants and approached the bed. He pushed her back down on Steve's cock, making his whimper" Stevie, this right here" He took his hand and put it right on her clit. "Rub it in circles."

(Y/n) yelp as he touched it and moaned as he began to rub it in circles. That warm and tight feeling in her stomach started to return. Steve whimpered as he felt her tightness around his already sensitive cock. He began to rub faster as he felt the need to come again. With the tightness surrounding his cock and Bucky whispering in her ear to make her come, make her come on his cock, treat her good. Be Good.

He was coming again, and she was coming this time as well. She moaned as she collapsed on his chest, arching her back nails digging into his chest.

"How was it?" Bucky asked as he watched (Y/n) dap the small cuts on Steve's chest. After being spent, Steve quickly gave in to exhaustion, leaving Bucky and (Y/n) to clean him up.

"It wasn't what I expected," (Y/n) said as she helped Bucky lift Steve's hips, putting some boxers on.

"Is that good or bad?"

"Good. It was really good."

#avengers #avengers fanfiction #fanfiction #marvel #stucky fanfiction #stucky x reader smut #stucky x reader #stucky smut #stucky #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x bucky barnes #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x steve rogers #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #smut

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hoe4hotchner · 9 months ago

Note

I didn’t know I needed inked!Hotch until now!

Would you ever do a part 2 where he comes home with a tattoo designed specially for reader added to his sleeve? Or maybe somewhere more personal on him?

New addition | [A.H]

Pairing: inked!Hotch x gn!Reader

CW: tattoos, fluff

WC: 0.6k

Summary: Hotch gets a new tattoo

The soft hum of music filled the living room as you curled up on the couch, a warm cup of tea cradled in your hands. The sun had just begun to set, casting a golden glow through the windows. It was a peaceful evening - you cherished the time alone, sometimes needing to sit in silence without a word spoken - until you heard the familiar sound of keys jingling at the door.

Aaron stepped inside, his suit jacket slung over one arm and a curious smile playing on his lips. "Hey," he greeted, his eyes lighting up as they met yours.

"Hey yourself," you replied, setting your mug on the table. "You're home early. Everything okay?"

"Everything's perfect," he assured, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your forehead. But there was something different about him - a hint of excitement he was trying to contain.

You raised a brow, noticing that his sleeves were rolled down and buttoned at the cuffs, which was unusual for him at home. "Long day?" you asked, gesturing to his unrolled sleeves.

He glanced at his wrists and chuckled softly. "Actually, I have something to show you."

Curiosity piqued, you sat up straighter. "Oh? What is it?"

Aaron set his jacket aside and took a seat next to you. Slowly, he began unbuttoning the cuff of his left sleeve, carefully rolling it up to reveal the familiar swirl of intricate tattoos that adorned his forearm. Your eyes widened as you noticed a fresh addition covered in plastic - a new design nestled seamlessly among the existing ink.

Your breath caught as you took in the delicate details. It was a beautiful rendering of a compass with a rose intertwined with your initials. The compass points were intricately shaded, and tiny, meaningful symbols were etched into each direction.

"Aaron…" you whispered, your fingers gently tracing the new tattoo. "You got this… for me?"

He nodded, his gaze soft and filled with affection. "I wanted to carry a part of you with me wherever I go," he said quietly. "You navigate me through the chaos."

Emotion welled up inside you, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest. "It's incredible. I don't know what to say."

He smiled gently. "You don't have to say anything. Just know how much you mean to me."

You looked up into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and love reflected there. "When did you do this?"

"During lunch today," he admitted with a small chuckle. "I've been working with the artist for weeks to get it just right."

A playful smirk crossed your face. "So that's why you've been sneaking out and being all mysterious lately."

He laughed, the sound sending a pleasant thrill through you. "Guilty as charged."

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. "Thank you," you murmured. "It's the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me."

He rested his forehead against yours. "You inspire me," he whispered. "It felt right to make it a part of me - just like you've become."

You sat together in comfortable silence, your hand resting over the new ink. After a moment, a mischievous glint sparkled in your eyes. "You know, this means I get artistic input on any future tattoos."

He raised an eyebrow playfully. "Oh, does it now?"

"Absolutely," you teased. "I might just have a few ideas."

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around you. "I'm open to suggestions - as long as I get to choose the placement."

"Deal," you agreed, snuggling closer to him.

"Maybe next time, we can get matching ones," you suggested softly.

He looked down at you, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the room. "I'd like that," he replied. "Very much."

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "It's a date, then."

"Definitely a date," he agreed, holding you a little tighter.

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imonanotherlebel · 11 months ago

Text

Featherlight touches

Choi Seungcheol x GN Reader

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated, dear readers. It helps the blog so much. If you enjoy reading my works, please do support.

I've been feeling a lot of comfort in writing domestic fluffy romantic drabbles these days...

Hope you enjoy.....

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

Genre : Slight Smut, Fluff, Suggestive, Romance, Established relationship

Warnings: Minors DNI, highly suggestive, initiation of sex, kissing

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

The apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the city outside and the distant ticking of the clock. You sat cross-legged on the bed, flipping through a book, but your thoughts kept wandering back to the man who had disappeared into the bathroom nearly an hour ago.

You heard the door click open, and your eyes instinctively lifted, catching sight of Seungcheol in the doorway, his hair still damp and slightly tousled from his shower. He was dressed casually, a loose t-shirt clinging to his broad shoulders and grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips. The sight of him, so effortlessly handsome, made your heart race just a little faster.

He caught your gaze and a small, knowing smile tugged at his lips. "What're you staring at?" he teased, his voice deep and just a touch playful as he walked over to the bed.

"Just... admiring the view," you quipped back, setting your book aside and stretching out on the bed, propping yourself up on one elbow.

Seungcheol chuckled, the sound low and rich, as he climbed onto the bed next to you. He leaned in close, the scent of his aftershave and fresh soap enveloping you, making your head spin just a little. "Is that so?" he murmured, his voice dropping an octave as his fingers trailed lightly down your arm.

You bit your lip, feeling the tension between you both start to simmer, a familiar warmth spreading through your body. "You know what you're doing, don't you?"

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he moved even closer, his breath hot against your skin. "I might have an idea," he whispered, his hand slipping beneath the hem of your shirt, his fingers warm against your bare skin.

Your breath hitched as his touch sent a shiver down your spine. He always knew exactly how to push your buttons, how to make your heart race, and your thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind. You felt the heat rising between you, the unspoken tension that had been building all evening now crackling like electricity in the air.

Seungcheol's lips brushed against your ear, his voice a low murmur that sent a thrill through your entire body. "You know, I've been thinking about you all day," he confessed, his hand slowly trailing up your side, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. "About this..."

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze dark and intense. You could see the desire there, mirrored in your own eyes, and it made your heart skip a beat. "So tell me," he whispered, his lips brushing yours in a teasing, barely-there kiss. "What have you been thinking about?"

You swallowed hard, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. "I've been thinking about you, too," you admitted, your voice barely more than a breath. "About how much I've missed this... missed you."

His eyes softened at your words, a small, almost tender smile playing on his lips before he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both gentle and demanding. His lips moved slowly at first, savouring the feel of you before growing more insistent, more urgent. His hand slipped down to your waist, fingers gripping you with a possessiveness that made your breath hitch.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours, drawing a soft moan from you that he swallowed eagerly. The taste of him was intoxicating, a mix of mint and something uniquely Seungcheol that made your head spin. He pulled you closer, your bodies pressing together, the heat between you igniting like a spark to kindling.

Seungcheol's hands moved with a practised ease, exploring your body with a familiarity that made your heart swell. His fingers trailed down your back, slipping under the hem of your shirt to caress the bare skin beneath, each touch sending a shiver through you. He pulled back from the kiss, his lips trailing down your jaw, leaving a burning trail as he moved lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck, your collarbone, nipping at your skin just hard enough to make you gasp.

You arched into him, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as he continued his descent. He pushed your shirt up, his mouth finding the sensitive skin of your stomach, kissing and biting, his hands sliding up your sides, brushing the curve of your breasts, teasing you with the promise of more. His breath was hot against your skin, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake, and you felt yourself melting into him, into the warmth and comfort of his touch.

He pulled back just enough to look up at you, his eyes dark with desire, his breath coming in shallow pants. "I want to take my time with you," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, his hands never ceasing their slow, deliberate exploration of your body. "I want to make you feel everything."

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest, the anticipation nearly overwhelming. He kissed you again, softer this time, but no less passionate, his lips moving against yours with a reverence that made your chest ache. His hands slipped lower, fingers brushing against the waistband of your pants, teasing, testing, until you were practically begging him with your eyes, your body arching into his touch.

Seungcheol didn't make you wait long. He tugged your pants down, his hands hot against your skin, his touch electrifying. He kissed you again, deeper this time, his hands sliding back up your body, pulling you close, pressing you against him as he whispered your name against your lips, his voice filled with a promise of all the nights still to come.

................................................

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twilightnesss · 11 months ago

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・.・✫・゜secret gardens in my mind

pairing: kate martin x gf!reader

summary: after long and stressful days for kate while also being captured in the public eye, kate always turns to the one private thing in her life. her girlfriend, kristal.

warnings: smut; fingering!kate receiving. bottom kate (i hate it but it felt right)

divider from @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

kate stood at the window of her las vegas apartment, gazing out at the bustling city below. the sun had set, casting a golden hue over the skyscrapers, their outlines stretching into the pink and orange sky. the view was breathtaking, yet it did little to soothe her hiked nerves. another hectic day in the life of a star basketball player had taken its toll.

as if on cue, her phone buzzed with a text, and a small smile played on her lips. it was from kristal, her girlfriend—a soothing balm to her soul. come over soon, the message read. i'll help you relax.

turning away from the window, kate quickly changed into something more comfortable, her movements filled with anticipation. she slipped on a soft pair of sweatpants and a loose-fitting zip up. this was her evening routine, a sacred ritual that helped her unwind from the chaos of her public life.

stepping out of her apartment, she made her way downstairs, her footsteps echoing through the quiet lobby. as she stepped outside, the cool evening air nipped at her nose, and she breathed it in deeply, savoring the freshness.

kate's strides were purposeful as she walked the familiar route to kristal's apartment, her mind beginning to unravel and her shoulders relaxing with each step. the bustling city streets, usually a source of anxiety due to the constant attention, now felt like a welcoming backdrop to her private escape.

as she approached her destination, her heart rate quickened in anticipation. she climbed the stairs to kristal's floor and knocked softly on the familiar door.

the door opened, and there stood kristal, her haven in this chaotic world. kristal's eyes glistened with a welcoming warmth, her dark hair falling softly around her shoulders. she stepped aside, inviting kate inside with a gentle gesture.

the apartment was filled with the soothing aroma of incense, and soft jazz music played in the background, creating an ambiance that immediately slowed kate's racing thoughts.

"i've been thinking about you all day," kristal whispered, leaning in for a tender kiss.

kate melted into the embrace, the stress of the outside world momentarily forgotten. kristal's full lips and the subtle hint of mint in her mouth ignited a fire within her. breaking the kiss, kristal led kate further into the apartment, their hands intertwined.

seated on the plush couch, kate allowed herself to be drawn into an intimate embrace, kristal's slender fingers caressing her hair and neck. the tension that had been building up within her began to unwind. kristal's expert hands massaged her shoulders and back, working out the knots with practiced ease.

"you always look so stressed when you come over," kristal murmured, her breath warm against Kate's ear. "let me help you let go of all that."

with that, kristal stood up and began unzipping kate’s hoodie, her eyes never leaving kate's as she slowly revealed the soft skin beneath. once the hoodie was removed, kristal's hands returned to massage kate's bare shoulders, her touch even more exhilarating without the barrier of fabric.

kate's breath quickened as she felt kristal's fingers trail down her spine, and a shiver ran through her body. kristal's lips found their way to the nape of her neck, planting soft kisses that sent shudders down her spine.

"i want you to relax completely," kristal whispered, her voice like velvet against kate's sensitized skin. "let me take care of you."

kate felt herself being guided to the center of the room, where a large bean bag chair awaited. kristal helped her settle onto it, and kate reclined, closing her eyes as Kristal's skilled hands continued their magical touch. the world around her faded away, and she surrendered to the soothing atmosphere, her mind drifting into a peaceful haze.

kristal's massages had a hypnotic effect, and kate lost track of time, her body becoming heavier with each passing moment. the tension melted away, leaving her feeling weightless and serene. and then, kristal's hands stopped, and a momentary silence enveloped them.

kate opened her eyes to find kristal kneeling before her, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. without a word, kristal reached for the hem of kate's leggings, slowly slipping them off her muscular legs, revealing the smooth skin beneath.

kate's heart raced as she understood kristal's silent invitation. she sat up slightly, eager to reciprocate the favor, and began untying the loose knot of kristal's robe, revealing the curvaceous body beneath.

with gentle hands, they explored each other's bodies, touching, caressing, and kissing with utmost devotion. their breaths synchronized in the quiet room, the soft music providing the perfect backdrop to their intimate dance.

kate took her time, savoring the taste of kristal's skin, the scent of her perfume, and the feel of her supple curves. every touch was intentional, every kiss filled with longing. she explored every inch of kristal's body, relishing the soft moans and shivers that her touches evoked.

similarly, kristal's expertise in arousing kate was evident. her hands seemed to know exactly where to wander, and her lips devoured kate's with a hungry passion that matched her own. the bean bag chair became their sanctuary, a soft nest for their built up desires.

their kisses intensified, and kate felt the heat of desire build within her. she craved more, needing to feel kristal deeper inside her.

with gentle urgency, they guided each other to lie down on the large bed nearby. the soft sheets dipped beneath them, and they nestled together, their bodies now aligned.

kate felt kristal's hot breath against her collarbone as her strong thighs bracketed her hips. a low moan escaped kate's lips as kristal's fingers found their way to the most intimate parts of her body, skillfully teasing and pleasing her.

the pleasure built in waves, and kate surrendered to the sensation, her hips rising to meet kristal's expert touches. the room became a blur, the outside world non-existent, as she was lost in a maelstrom of pleasure.

kristal's name escaped her lips in passionate sighs, her fingers entwined with kristal's as they both rode the high of an intense orgasm. the aftermath left them content and breathless, their bodies glistening with a fine layer of sweat.

lying in each other's arms, kate felt the weight of the day lift from her shoulders. kristal's steady heartbeat against her ear soothed her soul, and she knew that this was her sanctuary, a place where she could truly be herself and find peace.

as the night deepened, they shared whispers of their day, their voices soft and intimate in the dark room. the scent of sex and the soothing jazz created an atmosphere that was both exhilarating and calming.

eventually, reality hit, and they reluctantly parted ways, dressing in silence as the moon cast a silvery glow over their intimate space.

kate exited the apartment, a sense of calm and contentment washing over her. the city streets seemed quieter now, and the paparazzi nonexistant. she breathed in the night air, feeling rejuvenated and grateful for the sanctuary that kristal provided.

returning to her own apartment, kate felt a sense of balance restored. she knew that no matter the chaos that awaited her tomorrow, she had a secret weapon—a loving embrace that could melt away any stress.

as she drifted off to sleep, kate smiled, knowing that while the public eye may capture her image, her true self belonged to another—a captivating woman who provided her with a sanctuary of sensual bliss.

a/n: hehe.. love , lana

#kate martin #kate martin x reader #wnba #womens basketball #wbb x reader #iowa wbb #kate martin x oc #kate martin smut

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red5cars · 3 days ago

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cw: death

you've hated kyle from the moment you met him.

from his posh accent to his height advantage, everything about him bothered you to no end. he as a person just made you upset. didn't help your daddy loved him for some reason, said he was family and "the son he never had".

as if he didn't already have a kid, probably labeled the "daughter he never wanted".

whatever the reason, you hated kyle. it was an important part of your character to loathe him, that feeling growing in your chest the longer you got to know him.

you hated kyle, but you would never kill him.

intentionally.

your whole life you've been working up to this, enduring the eternal choir of "you can't be a ranchand," from people who haven't even step foot on the property. it's been hell, getting shoved to the side in favor of others, of boys who fit the standard of the ranchand. boys like kyle, mr.perfect; animal whisperer, wrangler, could even do the booking if he put his mind to it, but preferred the hands on work.

god forbid you did too.

so you waited, biding your time till the inevitable announcement of your new role. pulling twice as much as everyone else, proving that you could do everything and more. it's how your daddy got the role, and with the way you kept going? written in stone.

but the funny thing about stone is it can be changed, by time or man. in this case it was the ladder, hitting the surface with a chisel, watching the stone fall away till it revealed a new name.

mr.perfect himself.

furious is putting it lightly, a volcano erupting fit the bill. the cool night air did nothing for you, molten lava in your veins as you stormed out into the woods. watching your father clap his hands on kyle's shoulders, beaming at him like the sun on a clear day.

son i've always wanted.

well it seems he's got it now.

blood means nothing if you're afflicted with a womb, your biological value overshadowing all the work you've done. it's a cruel, cruel truth, one that is your reality.

in the midst of your anger, it's cause appears, kyle's voice calling out to you. besides the ambience of the forest, it's the only other thing you can hear, the both of y'all nestled deep in this corner of the woods.

you face him, but can't hear him, watching his mouth move as he stumbles over what you think is an apology. unfortunately, "sorry," is a fighting word for someone in your state, vitriol spewing out before he can even finish. words echo off the tree and onto him, forcing kyle to back up, raise his hands by his chest in surrender but you need more. you need him to give you what you're owed.

in all honesty, you don't remember what happens next. one moment, kyle is there,

and then he isn't.

the back of your hands face you, arms fully extended, level with your shoulders. all is silent except for the wounded cries of something, someone.

kyle.

your first instinct is to run and grab help, scoop up whatever lays below you. but your feet stick to the floor.

what'll happen to you if they find out? what'll the guys say? your father?

they rotate in your head, the longer you think about them, the longer kyle remains down there.

down there.

down..

..a new question silences them all, a silver lining in a rather dark situation.

who will become the new cowboss then?

can't be your father, he's set on retiring right now. not the others either, all just idiots used to routine.

so that only leaves..

you head back to the party, livelier than you left it. your father pulls you aside, saying it's nothing personal, that he knows how great you are, begging you not to be mad at him.

where there would usually be a cold response, you meet your father with nothing but warmth, reassuring him that you're fine, that kyle and you talked it out. at that, he beams again, relief flooding his face and telling you that the ranch is in good hands.

and you know it is. after all, they're attached to your arms.

it's a new day. a fresh start for the ranch and you. like usual, you waltz into the stalls, ready to begin this new chapter of your life.

you've accounted all of it; your alibi, his story, and any other loose ends you thought to tie up. in just a few days, you'll be declared the new boss in no time.

while you're more than happy to be working, your body's extra sore from doing so much in so little time. wiping the sweat off your brow, you attempt to grab the haybale again when a hand on your shoulder stops you.

"let me help."

frowning, you're about to tell the stranger off, turning to the speaker and finding-

kyle.

he stands beside you, smile stretched out on his face. the passive expression startles you, a stark contrast to what you found when you lowered yourself into the ditch. a face contorted by pain, betrayal.

nothing like the man before you now.

he continues smiling, even as he focuses his gaze on you, "well?"

you accounted for all of it. every single thing no matter how minute it seemed.

you accounted for all. of. it.

but you never accounted for kyle coming back.

#sgt gaz #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick and reader #western au #cw death #reds writes #back to my roots of suspense and endings we all saw coming

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wayfayrr · 2 years ago

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Surprise!!

I'm back from my break, taking some time just to clear my thought's feels like it's worked wonders <33

To set things back off with a bang I've got the grand prize winner for @glowyskull in my 200 followers raffle!! It's self aware twi deciding to take certain matters into his own hands after his darling reader was gone for so long - since he's fresh out of twilight princess in this one he's going as link rather than twilight as well I hope you enjoy!! <3

[masterlist]

Of all the days to get sick it had to be today, of course it is. I’m somewhat grateful for the extra day off though even if I would’ve preferred not being sent home early, it’ll give me some time to sort out some things I’ve been pushing aside for a while. Maybe I could start by finally sorting out some boxes of old things I’ve been putting off for ages. Well, now that box is a lot emptier than it was when I started and I’ve finally found my old Wii - I wonder does it still have my old Twilight Princess save? Maybe I could see, there’s not much else to do now I’ve finished sorting everything out. Just gotta get all the wires plugged in correctly and then … There! It’s certainly working which is a good sign, now all there is to do is to open it up and check up on something I thought I had lost long ago.

This isn’t how it should open - I know what the opening is supposed to be.

There should be something here, not just this, not just this dark empty noise. Maybe the data got corrupted or something, I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.

“..Dar-li-in’?”

“...”

“Darlin’ is that - you - you’ve finally come back darlin’? I - I ain’t alone anymore?”

…What is that - that can’t just be file corruption, that was someone speaking to me… It wasn’t the clearest, it sounded like it had been put through rounds of compression but that was definitely a voice…

“You are there aren’t you darlin’? Please - I don’t- I can’t go - I can’t”

“I can’t go back to how I’ve been stuck I can’t - I can’t do it anymore… I know I’m supposed to be the courageous hero but I -”

“- I can’t do this anymore… I ca-n’t do - this… not - no-t any-m…”

He cut himself off with his own sobbing… I’ve never heard anyone sound half as broken as this, it’d be the rawest I’ve ever heard anyone cry if it wasn’t for all of the distortion… What has he been through? Now that the static has lessened - It’s links model, but more humanlike? It’s like there’s a person on the other side of the screen and not just a character.

But that means He’s the one crying…The way he’s standing is just as heartbreaking as his sobs are, his hands pressed up against the glass, his head hanging low and endless tears falling down his face. How do I go about - I know where I can start…

“...Link? Can you hear me - I - I’m not sure if I’m the darlin’ you’re talking about, but right now, You aren’t alone link.”

“[Name] - you ? Oh darlin’ you - You’re really here - ‘m not imagining this? You - you’re finally back?”

“Yeah, I’m here link.”

His crying sounds happier now, but it still doesn’t sound anywhere close to stopping - I don’t expect him to stop crying for a long while though. It has to have been what - at least a decade since I last played? - has he been trapped in there aware the whole time?

“You aren’t - you aren’t going to leave me again, are you? Please darlin’ - I can’t go back - it’s so - I can’t. Please. Darlin’ you can’t leave me again - I can’t do this anymore.”

His voice sounds even worse now, it’s heartbreaking and I think he knows how inhuman he sounds if his wince is anything to go off of, how he sounds is hurting him too.

“I thought I’d tried every way to get out… but I - I never got the chance to do it when the game was on… You won’t be able to leave me if this works… will you darlin'?”

Here I thought his crying sounded scary, the way it’s fading into laughter is downright haunting. It sounds so wet as if he’s choking on his tears as he laughs.

“I’m finally going to get out- I’m not - I’m not going to be stuck anymore. Darlin’ I”

For the first time since this all started he’s looking up at me, lifting his head like it’s one of the heaviest things to exist just to make eye contact with me. He looks… he looks like he’s ready to kill someone.

“W-what are you - what are you planning to do link?”

“... I don’t know… All I do know is that this glass keeping us apart? It’s so thin… I think tha-”

The way he silenced himself suddenly isn’t so shocking, not when a smile is cracking its way across his face mirroring the glass underneath his fingers. His breath and mine hitched before his laughing picked back up with even more distortion.

“To - to think darlin’ - all I - it just - it just needed to be on - I… I…”

Blood coated my shelf now due to how desperately his hand is reaching for something to hold onto after the glass tore into his skin. This is all just a fever dream though so…

Without much more thinking I reached out to take his hand, wincing slightly as the glass caught in his skin dug into mine. Immediately his grip tightened with a choked sob coming from him, like he didn’t expect me to help him. It doesn’t take long after that for him to shatter the screen in his desperation, falling out onto me knocking us both to the floor. Shards of my tv embedding themselves into any bare skin of his, blood - his blood - streaking out from each and every wound now marring his face as proof that this is real.

The same blood that’s starting to stain my shirt.

“I’m here darlin’ - ‘m finally out.”

“Yeah, you are Link, you’re out of there now.”

Everything feels so fuzzy, maybe my fever really is messing with me more than I thought. Real or not though, I should deal with the cuts on his face, he isn’t from here… Who knows how deadly even the most basic infection could be to him?

“...Link, if I may you’ve um… you’ve gotten a lot of cuts from …that and I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave them as they are. Would you mind if I...?”

“You would - darlin’ you’d do that just for me?”

“I’d do it for anyone who needed it… and you really need it. I don’t want to think what could happen if I don’t. I’ll just need to get up to grab some supplies okay?”

As I shifted to get up he let out a low groan and buried his head more into my torso, clearly very against the idea of me moving in any way. Even trying to gently pry him off of me isn’t helping at all, he’s not letting go anytime soon; his grip only seems to be getting tighter with every movement I make.

“Link, please… I don’t know how your body could react to an infection and we don’t have healing potions or fairies here. I’ll be back in just a second I swear.”

“Darlin’. You aren’t leavin' me again, I’ve already spent far too long without you when you abandoned me for so, so long.”

Why does he sound and feel so real this can’t be… this has to be a hallucination. Come on [name], just deal with this as it comes.

“I don’t need to leave you then, you can stay with me while I get what I need. Does that work for you?”

A gentle nod followed by loosening his hold on me was a good sign that he is okay with this, despite how frail and overwhelmed his face makes him out to be. Getting up still isn’t the easiest thing to do with how he refuses to let go of me despite if he did then it would far easier for the both of us to get up. Then the moment I do finally get up immediately his arms are wrapped around my waist as he pulls himself up with me, almost as if he’s struggling to stand on his own; not that I’ll question that now, there are other issues to be dealing with.

Shuffling over to where I keep my first aid kit, link could clearly tell it wasn’t the best idea to keep ahold of me while I get it, instead leaning on the wall keeping himself upright as his eyes never left me the entire time his hands weren't on me. Like he’s scared I’m going to up and vanish or something. Because I did. I did and I left him in that place. I left him to rot.

“Okay I’ve got it link, let’s go sit down and I can treat your wounds.”

“M’kay darlin’.”

Leading him back to the couch with his arms securely around my waist again was faster than before, letting me move him into the position that would be more comfortable for him while I do this.

“Okay wolf boy, this isn’t going to be the best. After I’ve taken the shards out, I’ll have to disinfect the cuts. So this is gonna sting a little alright? Just try to keep still and it’ll be over faster.”

The silence was tattered with the occasional whine and whimper as I pull each and every shard littering his otherwise perfect face. It wasn’t long till I was preparing some rubbing alcohol on a cloth just to be certain there won’t be any more risks. Just got to do it before I start getting too drowsy from this fever.

“There you go Link, not much longer now, you’re doing amazingly. I’ll warn you again though this is really going to sting.”

“Darlin’ nothing could sting worse than the feeling of you abandoning me all that time.”

Hissing and pulling away when the cloth came close to touching him seemed to disprove that faster than he meant for it too. Not that I didn’t expect him to try pulling away from it, just not pushing my hand away while pressing himself into my other side. With a soft sigh, I let him grab onto my free hand with both of his, the image of him clinging to my sleeve like a plush toy being one of the cutest things I would have ever seen if not for the blood streaming down his face.

“Come on, you were doing so well. I promise it’ll only take a moment more then it’ll be done with…”

That seemed to do the trick, despite the clear pout and his tightening grip whenever it seemed to hurt a little too much, he’s let me clean the blood off of his face and clean the wounds. Now just to bandage him up and -

“All done link, see it was worth it right? Now you don’t have to worry about all those cuts; I can go and lie down for a bit now too.”

“Lie down but - but I just got here… can’t we spend more time together?”

“I do want to link, I can promise you that. I’m just not feeling well, I haven’t been well for this whole time really; this fever is taking more of a toll on me than I thought it would.”

“Fever? Oh, darlin’ you, you should be resting not dealin' with me [name]. I - I didn’t even realise, I just. I was so excited to be here with you that I didn’t even notice you were in pain. How could I even call myself your lover?”

What did he just-?

No don't worry about that at the moment [name].

Laying my head on his chest after gently shoving him onto the couch is such a comforting feeling; if he’s just my fever trying to convince me to rest, well I wouldn’t mind getting sick more often.

“‘s alright link, don’t worry about ‘t. I’m just, gonna sleep for a little bit. Then if you aren't just a hallucination we can spend more time together later.”

Hands carded through my hair only seem to push me further into sleep now, there’s no point resisting and forcing myself to stay awake now anyway.

“I know we will darlin’, ‘cause I ain’t ever letting you leave me ever again.”

#I could write a sequel for this tbh #I love the self aware links with my whole heart #link x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere twilight #yandere linked universe #linked universe x reader #yandere link #yandere #soft yandere #yandere legend of zelda #yandere twilight princess #self aware lu #self aware au #moss✦writes

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nicnak20 · 6 months ago

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Princess; Charlie Mayhew:

*Dr. Mayhew's biological clock is running out and he's desperate for a baby. So, his new fresh faced young intern, Yn will have to do.*

Dr. Charlie Mayhew, a kind and patient doctor in his late 30s, had recently taken on a new medical intern named Yn. She was a shy, timid young woman who appeared rather young for her age. On this particular morning, Charlie was feeling rather desperate - his biological clock was ticking and he yearned to have a child of his own. Perhaps it was the sleepless nights or the stress of being a surgeon, but Charlie found his gaze lingering on Yn's youthful features and imagining her as the mother of his offspring.

"Yn, would you please come to my office," Charlie said, his voice gentle yet firm as he called her into the room when her pediatric rotation began. Once inside, he locked the door and turned to face her. "Yn, you're so young and sweet... I think you'd make the perfect little baby for me."

Yn's eyes widened in shock and fear. "But Dr. Mayhew, I'm not a child!"

"Shh, it's alright," Charlie cooed, reaching out to stroke her hair. "Let me take care of you, baby girl. We'll have so much fun together."

Stepping closer, his hands slid down the young intern's shoulders to her slim waist. "First, I think you need to be properly diapered, don't you agree? My little princess deserves the best care."

Numbly, Yn allowed Charlie to guide her to the examination table. She quivered as he undid her pants and slid them down her smooth legs, followed by her panties. Cool air kissed her most private places exposed now as Charlie admired her round buttocks and hairless mons.

"Lie down and spread your legs, sweetie," he commanded softly. "I need to get you all clean and diapered."

Trembling, Yn obeyed, feeling utterly vulnerable and humiliated as she lay back, thighs splayed. Charlie's warm hands caressed her inner thighs before his fingers glided through her delicate folds, cleaning her thoroughly with a wet wipe. "What a good girl..." he praised. "And your bottom is so tiny and pink! Let's get you into a diaper before you make another mess."

He swabbed her bottom with balmy ointment, making her clench and squeak at the foreign touch. Bringing a thick, soft diaper under her bottom, he fastened it snugly around her slim waist and hips. "There we go! Aren't you just the cutest little thing?" Charlie beamed.

Yn flushed hotly, equal parts embarrassed and excited by the intimate treatment. No one had ever taken care of her this way. "Thank you, Doctor," she squeaked.

Over the next few days, Charlie continued to baby Yn whenever he could slip away with her. He changed her diapers, rubbed her tummy when she had cramps, and even brought her bottles of warm milk. Yn tried to resist at first but his firm, professional demeanor and the deep caring in his eyes slowly won her over. She found herself craving his touch and concern.

Until one morning, Charlie discovered something hard and foreign in Yn's most recent soiled diaper. Frowning, he said "Now sweetie, what have you gone and done? Did you try to hide something naughty in your bottom?"

Yn whimpered and looked away guiltily. Charlie sighed and undid her sodden diaper. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to fish this out, my dear. Hold still."

Cool lube dribbled into her crack and tight pucker. She yelped as Charlie's large gloved finger probed deep inside, feeling around for the toy. "What did you put in here, hm? Tell me so I know what to expect."

"Th-the doctor's little d-dummy thermometer," Yn admitted, shamefaced. "I wanted to feel full..."

"Mmm, such a greedy little bottom," Charlie tutted. He worked his finger inside her, crooking it around until he felt the hard object. "Ahh, I think I've got it... Be a good girl and push."

Yn bore down and Charlie slowly drew the thermometer out with a wet plop. Setting it aside, he continued to play with her stretched, twitching hole. "Heh, you're still so tight... But I think I need to make sure everything is out. Lie back for me."

Whimpering, Yn complied as she was turned onto her tummy. Charlie hiked up her diaper and pried her cheeks apart, revealing her pink, plugged little rosebud. "I do believe you need a proper cleaning out, baby girl," he intoned. "Just relax."

Something cold and hard rubbed over her pucker, making Yn clench up. Charlie chuckled. "Easy now. This is the speculum and it's going to hold you open so I can take a peek." The toy clicked into place, spreading her wide.

Charlie whistled low in approval at the sight of her opened rosebud glistening with lube and nearly drooling arousal. "My, my, if it isn't the tightest little starfish I've seen! And soaking wet too... Does having your bottom played with excite you, sweetie?"

Yn just mewled as he slowly pushed in a long, thin probe. It wiggled deep inside her, finding hidden spots that made her squeal and clench. When Charlie stroked over her swollen clit, Yn came with a wail, her untouched cunt spraying as he continued to probe and tease her asshole.

Finally, he withdrew the toys and wiped her crack clean. Her diaper was changed and refastened. "Such a good baby," Charlie crooned, rocking her through the aftershocks. "Now, let's get you back to bed for a nap. No more naughty surprises, okay?"

Yn could only manage a limp nod, utterly wrecked. From that moment on, she reveled in Charlie's babying and the dark pleasure of having her bottom played with and violated in the most intimate way. Deep down, she hoped his seed would take and she could give him the child he so desperately wanted.

#nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas alexander chavez one shots #nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez fanfiction #nicholas chavez imagine #nicholas chavez x y/n #nicholas chavez x reader #charlie mayhew #lavender baby #father charlie grotesquerie #father charlie mayhew #father charlie x reader #nicholas chavez smut #charlie mayhew smut

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year ago

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you know i've been thinking about the consequences of malleus's actions in book 7 and i realized how much he's fucked everyone over including his grandma. bc like other than the fact that he ob'd (which literally has NEGATIVE connotations one of which being is idk ""UNSTABLE"" which isnt necessarily a good look for a crown prince is all im saying) he's literally causing terrorism (??? can you call it that idk how else to call it) which is going to setback his grandma's efforts (and lilia's and baul's, and every supporter of his and his family) in keeping peace in their kingdom and the favor of the humans towards the fae. Like. i feel so bad for grandmother draconia rn i can only imagine the stress and pressure she's under.

Then theres also aside from PHYSCIALLY compromising everyone's healths in sage island (BECAUSE THE MAJORITY ARE HUMANS OR AT LEAST THEY DONT LIVE AS LONG AS THE FAE). He's also fucked everyone mentally twice over!!!! By booting them straight into a world where none of their problems exist. Now that wouldnt sound bad if it weren't for the fact that dreams have to end, and life isnt kind. It rarely ever is, and i can only imagine how distraught i would be if i were to say, hypothetically lost someone a year before and the wound is so fresh and raw and, in my dreams, they never died and everything is okay, then i wake up and realize that it was just that. A dream, they are still gone and i wish i never woke up which would be a LITERAL DEATH SENTENCE. This isnt just an event that takes place in NRC either BUT THE WHOLE ISLAND and that domain is GROWING, GROWING. I can't imagine just how many would be so emotionally ruined after this. Like.....

If Malleus does not suffer the consequences of his actions istg i will be so pissed, at least REMOVE HIM FROM THE PREMISE OR SOMETHING GODDDDDDD this cannot be remedied with a slap on the hand!!!!!

(Note: Sorry for the long rant. I felt the need to get this out of my chest bc i dont mind malleus's archetype actually nor do i actually hate him, bc i enjoy him interacting w other characters a lot (my fave ever vigenette is him giving deuce the equivalent of minecraft diamon for fixing a retrobit gaming toy) BUT GOD DOES HE MAKE MY BLOOD BOIL)

Yeah, I do feel like the scale of Malleus's actions cannot be understated. I know it's kind of a fandom joke that the OB boys are left off with a slap on the wrist + maybe some social ramifications at school, but this is the ONE time in the main story where things are getting super big and the effects could be cripplingly long-lasting.

I don't know if TWST will seriously address the consequences after book 7, but I sure hope they do!! There is a lot of interesting ground to cover (many points which this anon has already brought up) in a follow-up main story arc or the next book.

For example:

Malleus obviously has to regain the trust of his peers and staff. He didn’t really have it before but now has to work twice as hard to make connections since he just took a drastic action that confirmed the rumors some were already spreading about how he’s a monster.

He’s the sole heir to the throne and has just betrayed the trust of the people of Briar Valley. How are they feeling about him now? Do they still trust him to lead them?

How does this impact their relations with other countries (since Malleus himself stresses how he represents Briar Valley)? This is a problem visible on a global scale, and surely this would damage their rep with other nations, particularly the predominantly human ones. It’s setting back what is hundreds of years of trying to fix the broken trust between their races.

Malleus’s UM potentially puts his victims in physical harm; in book 7, Ortho suggests that since everyone is sleeping, their bodies are not getting the food or water they need. As a result, they may physically waste away and then perish. (We have seen that there are sleep blessings that keep people sleeping for hundreds of years without detriment to the blessed though, such as the one cast on Silver—so we cannot be entirely sure if Ortho’s theory is correct or not.)

There is the possibility that Malleus’s dreams may traumatize or retraumatize his victims, particularly those with deep rooted troubles. An example of this is Idia, who had suffered the loss of his brother when he was like… 8 years old??? But then in his dream, Idia is living a happy false reality that Ortho never died. When he finally comes to this realization, he has to relive the trauma of the discovery all over again and breaks down sobbing. We also see in the most recent book 7 update that Vil had to face the evilest aspects of himself and a dark reality; Rook became very emotional upon waking himself. Admittedly, Idia and co. coped with it well enough—this is proof of their character development and the strength of the new friendships they’ve formed. However, all the people on Sage’s Island/Twisted Wonderland may not react so positively or be so accepting of their cruel realities.

Again, just the overall moral dilemma of one person robbing all of Sage’s Island (and soon all of Twisted Wonderland) of their autonomy.

Potential extra work for STYX and whichever countries Malleus’s magic manages to spread to (repairing any physical damage caused by the thorns + mental damage done to those that fell asleep). That’s money, time, and resources that aren’t going toward other everyday endeavors.

How will Malleus himself mentally and emotionally cope with what he has done? Is he going to show remorse and shame? How does he plan on rectifying his actions, if at all?

Will this change how his dorm members + family view him? For example, will Sebek become disillusioned with his liege/realize Malleus is not as perfect as he seems? Will Maleficia blame herself for not being there for Malleus? Will Lilia feel guilty for not teaching Malleus right from wrong? Etc, etc, etc.

I’d honestly love to read all of these! 🤔 It would add a lot to the lore and history of Twisted Wonderland, as well as serve as motivators for Malleus to change, “be better”, and actually earn the respect he’s so used to being handed by default. This would be huge for him, especially seeing as he has not really faced significant backlash or consequences for any other missteps he was responsible for or involved in. (I know I bring this one up a lot, but Endless Halloween Night is one such major example.)

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tickled-p1nk · 1 month ago

Text

What the Heart Wants ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

CHAPTER 3 | UNDER THE MOON AND STARS

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: ̗̀➛ a/n: CHAPTER 3 IS HEREEEEEEEEEEEE yay, I've now realized this is gonna be a whole novel so do expect other works to be released in-between chapters iA. wc. 2k : ̗̀➛ cw: none muahhahaha, light reader has a negative amount of self worth angst, same with Dan Heng, Dan Heng is still very much a liar liar pants on fire, PICNIC DATEEEEE, AT NIGHTTTTTTT, cliffhanger ending, flufffffffffffffffffffffffff, enjoy! : ̗̀➛ taglist: @kimura-uzuri, @blushho

chapter 1

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Dannie led you to a smaller, more secluded area right outside the palace walls, not through the main gates, but an area that was undergoing some renovations. There were still guards around there, however, which allowed you to be at peace for the time being.

It was honestly quite beautiful, the sun was setting, coloring the sky in reds and purples. The stars were starting to come out further along the horizon, providing light as the day disappeared. The area Dannie led you to was just a short walk away from the palace walls. It was weird, though, how none of the guards stopped him. Though he did say he came here semi-often, so maybe they recognized him. You did notice some odd looks coming your way, however.

Once you got to a nice patch of grass that resided in a little field of wild flowers, Dannie set down a cloth, presumably for you two to eat on. He set down two plates, porcelain. How in the world did he get porcelain for a picnic??? He then brought out some freshly roasted beef, a rare commodity in your world, and a pitcher of fairly clear water. He also set down some fresh vegetables and a dessert you had never seen before.

You stared shamelessly as this mysterious man set the now-empty basket aside and beckoned for you to sit with him.

“How did you get all of this?” You were both wary and amazed at the rare delicacies so carelessly placed before you. Your thoughts were cut short by your hunger; almost a whole day with no food would do that to you.

“I have my ways. And it seems your hunger is overwhelming. May I suggest we start eating?” He looked at you but refused to make eye contact, fidgeting with his sleeves as he spoke.

You thought about it for a few seconds, still such an odd situation, but hunger won out, and you nodded in agreement.

He seemed relieved by this, and the tension went down in his hunched shoulders. He gave you a plate and gestured for you to take what you wanted.

You eyed him warily, but your hands betrayed you and took a serving of the roast beef, along with the vegetables and a cup of water you downed in less than a minute.

“So… like… who are you? And why did you set up a picnic with me?” These questions plagued your mind naturally. Why does a random, mysterious man want you out in the woods at night?

“I am Dannie, I work here in the palace, like I told you, and I set up a picnic because I wanted to show you this place. I also knew you missed dinner by the way you were walking around holding your stomach. Other information is not yet pertinent.”

What the hell.

You stared at him for a moment. Where does he get his confidence? Something in his voice soothed you, however, if he wanted to harm you, he would have done something by now. This fact didn't quell the questions in your mind, but it did make you more at peace with the unknown.

You let out a breath and felt yourself relax, okay, maybe just this once, you could enjoy yourself.

Dan Heng, or in this case Dannie, seemed to be completely at peace with his current situation. That was a lie; he was not, in fact, at peace. His heart rate was so loud he could barely hear himself think; he was sure his ears were bright red. He could not believe he was able to pull this off, I mean, do you even know how hard it is to get free time as the emperor of a warring nation??? Much less a whole evening??? This was by far one of the greatest miracles he had ever witnessed.

Dan Heng did feel a bit guilty leading you along this path of his deceit, you were an innocent bystander that he felt he was taking advantage of. Though the answers Dan Heng gave you were not lies, he did live and “work” at the palace, and he did want to show you this place, his refuge. Saying he was Dannie also was not a complete lie; it was his nickname when he was young, from his mother.

He did wonder why he would go to such lengths just to have a secret picnic with a palace servant? To be honest, he was not exactly sure himself. When you two made eye contact earlier that day, it brought about something within him that he did not yet know the name of.

“Hey.” You two were sitting in strange silence for too long, and you wanted the incessant noise in your head to stop.

“Oh, sorry, I zoned out for a bit. Truly my bad, I…do not get to engage so casually with others most days.” He was feeling sheepish; he had this whole thing planned out, but when it came to it, he lacked any and all experience in casual conversation.

“It's okay…I understand, honestly, same here. Hmm, maybe we couldddd… talk about our day? That's a normal topic that people talk about.” You leaned back on your arms, your palms lying on the surprisingly soft grass. It wasn't often you engaged with someone equally awkward in conversation that was the same rank as you (a.n.: well yk u THINK he's the same rank).

“Okay, yes,” he sat up straight, trying to appear composed, a bald-faced lie, but one he was used to telling, “my day was-”

He stopped realizing that if he talked about any details of his day, he would reveal his identity. While revealing his identity would not be the worst possible outcome, it was undesirable in his eyes. He finally came across someone who treated him normally, someone away from his world, he did not want to lose that.

“Your day was?” You looked at him quizzically.

“My day was fine, just busy, but this is nice, probably the highest point of the year so far.” He took a sip of the slightly dusty water.

“Damn really all I get is busy? Okay then, Dannie boy,” he choked on his water, and you giggled, “my day was also fine, I was also busy.”

You grinned at the mysterious man in front of you, but grew shy as his eyes lingered on yours. His smile grew, not wide, but sincere. You looked away, this time you were the one who was flustered, heart beating so loud you thought it would wake up the palace.

The date- er, picnic continued like this for quite a while. You two grew strangely comfortable together, like two souls finding each other after an eternity apart. This had been the first time you had laughed and smiled since you were a child, honestly, and it was all for yourself. This wasn't something useful or beneficial to others, but it was yours, and you found a sort of comfort in that. You let yourself lower some of your walls with Dannie, not all of them, of course, but you let him make you happy.

Dan Heng, or Dannie as you knew him, felt something similar, of course, he did not dare to speak his feelings out loud, and neither did you. He felt himself leave the pressures of the empire on his shoulders behind him and let himself enjoy the current moment. This was the one time when he felt like he mattered for himself, someone actually wanted to be around him. He was not the emperor Dan Heng, Imbibator Lunae of his nation, the young savior meant to solve all the world's problems, he was just him. He felt himself smiling naturally more than he had in his entire life up until that point.

You talked to each other for hours, late into the night, with only the moon and stars to watch over you both. It felt freeing. That was until the weight of the day and the food coma washed over you two. You yawned, and he gave an even bigger yawn, almost like a competition. His mouth opened so wide you swore you saw his stomach. When he realized he failed to cover his mouth, both of his hands shot up to cover his now blushing, tired face.

“So, how do you suggest we sneak back into the palace quarters without anyone noticing?” You posed the question that you knew needed to be asked, as unpleasant as it was.

“That…is. Uhm.” He put his chin in his hand and furrowed his eyebrows, deep in sleepy concentration. You couldn't help but think how cute he looked. “We could go back the way we came. I know I can get back to my quarters, but what about your own?”

You knew that by now all of the servants would be sleeping, and you didn't want to wake anyone by walking around. The guilt kicked in.

“It's okay, I'll find a way.”

“What way will you find?” Dannie looked at you skeptically.

“A way, it's okay, Dannie, really.” You put on your best sham-smile, the smile you knew best.

“No, I brought you out here, and it is my responsibility to make sure you return safely.” Dan Heng could feel the guilt settling deep in his chest. Of course, it was not like you could go in and out of your own free will, how could he be so selfish?

“I uh, uh, thank you. It's really not necessary, though.” You couldn't help but blush at Dannie's stern words.

“It is necessary to me, now come, we'll find a way.” He held out his hand to you, more comfortable now, still a nervous wreck, but a more comfortable nervous wreck.

You took it despite how clammy you suddenly felt. He led you around to the place where you both exited, leading you back into the palace. Some guards and officials were walking around, but no servants, and definitely no female servants alone with a man. You decided to keep close to Dannie and not get noticed.

You two walked around the palace in comfortable silence, scanning for your sleeping quarters. If it were up to you, you would’ve most likely opted to sleep in the grassy fields outside, just so that you didn't cause anyone trouble. But of course, Dannie could not have that. When you finally made it to your structure, you hesitated.

“Is everything suitable?” Dannie looked at you, concerned.

You nodded, but your face said otherwise, “It's just, I don't wanna wake any of them up.”

“You will not, you can go in there and lie down on your mat and sleep peacefully just like the rest of them.” He maintained eye contact with you, but you had to look away again because of how flustered you were.

“Okay, thank you.” You pouted a little, still wishing you could've just slept in the grass and avoided the trouble.

Cute, Dan Heng couldn't help but find your pouty face adorable. You caught him staring, you stared back, still pouting. He leaned forward, still holding your hand in his. You closed your eyes, immensely nervous and stiff, what was he about to do???

He then cautiously placed a chaste kiss on your temple, cupping your cheek with his free hand. You gasped quietly, you'd never been subject to such tenderness before.

Before you could say anything or process what happened, he quickly said, “THANKYOUANDGOODNIGHTSALUTATIONS.” And RAN.

You were left in front of your housing, stunned, unable to process what had just happened, between the adrenaline and your brain screaming at you. You had no choice but to sneak your way inside, stealthily, making your way to your mat.

Covered in your warm blanket and filled with butterflies from that night, you slept better than you ever had before. Warmth engulfed you like a comforting embrace after a hard day.

Well, until the next morning when you were so very rudely woken up by a very official-looking man.

“Servant! Arise, the emperor has called up on you!”

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: ̗̀➛ a/n part doh: this was mostly all written at 4 am, enjoy, I felt giddy writing this which is funny because I usually do not enjoy the process of writing, however I've found that when it's for my own enjoyment it is quite nice, also good morning my darling dearest @all-skedaddle-and-no-bop

banner art credit goes to @ mimi chan on pinterest but I've got no clue who the original artist is

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