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wonustars · 7 months ago

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𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖶𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖧𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖧𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽

𖥔 pairing: kim mingyu x f.reader 𖥔 wordcount: 19.0k 𖥔 genre: fake marriage au!, fluff, angst, smut (18+ mdni)

𖥔 reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated ♡! tumblr is based on reblogs not likes, and they help writers like me to get better reach. thank you!

𖥔 summary: you and mingyu (a former mafia member and also your ex-fiancè's former best friend) are forced into witness protection. All you’ve been told is that you’re meant to act like a happily married couple. Pushed into a cookie cutter house, and a suburban neighbourhood far from the city, where people bring you baked goods on your first day and partake in small talk, it’s all foreign and new. There’s so many things you don’t know about him, but for a man who’s only known violence and all things illegal, he’s somehow the perfect house husband.

𖥔 tags: nonidol!au, ex-mafia!mingyu, househusband!mingyu, afab!reader, catmom!reader, neighbour!verkwan, marshall officer!junhui and jihoon, ex-fiancè! seungcheol, fake marriage, mingyu loves to garden, mingyu has a large dragon tattoo on his back that is barely mentioned, mentions of the show Bluey and the movie Twilight, lots of domesticity and house work talk.

𖥔 note: i got this fic done earlier than expected but i have LOTS of people to thank because they are a huge part of why i was even able to get it done. firstly to my beta-readers, thank you, you were all so helpful and i really wouldn't have it done without you all @gyuswhore , @highvern , and @onlyhuis ♡. thank you to @wooahaeproductions , @hannieween , and june (again) for allowing me to put a cameo of you all in the fic! a big thank you to all the people who sent asks that helped me write some of the scenes in the story. thank you to a lot of the @svthub members who helped sm with this fic, esp @ourdawnishotterthanourday, @bitchlessdino, @seokgyuu, @onlymingyus, and @the-boy-meets-evil !! i couldn't have done it without you all and i'm so grateful ♡. i worked really hard on this fic and i've been talking about it for so long, so thank you to all of you who interacted with my posts and waited so patiently. i appreciate every single one of you and i hope you enjoy this story because i really love it too :). see you soonest - anna ♡.

𖥔 some songs i listened to while writing: lagi - bini, i wish - seventeen, sunny day - beabadoobee, chocolate - seventeen vocal unit. 𖥔 masterlist

-> smut tags/ warnings under the cut (18+ mdni!)

𖥔 smut tags: dom!gyu, sub!reader, unprotected penetrative p in v sex (don't do it!), breeding kink, multiple rounds, multiple positons, creampie, spanking, choking (barely), oral (f.receiving), spitting, pet names (reader: baby, wife) (mingyu: baby). 𖥔 warnings: mentions of weapon and drug trafficking, violence, reader is paranoid and anxious from time to time, a lot of inaccurate talk about legal stuff and witness protection, everything listed is talked about with as very little detail as possible.

The tension in the air is thick, not one word was uttered the whole car ride.

Everything still felt surreal, especially because the person you’re forced to live with for the next year is someone you aren’t particularly fond of.

When you were told that you’d be put into witness protection due to your ex-fiance’s mafia bust, you didn’t expect that it would be spent with his right-hand man. The same man who you watched execute heinous acts under the volition of your ex. It wasn’t his fault that he had to carry out orders, but witnessing him unleash his wrath onto others was enough for you to steer clear of him.

You aren’t one to judge, especially because you were to be wed to the mafia boss himself. You knew he was partaking in shady business, but you didn’t know that innocent people’s lives were included in his scheme to make more money.

“I think we’re here,” Mingyu breaks the silence for the first time since you entered the car.

Your attention is brought to the large sign that is displayed in front of the gated community. The words “Bridgewater Heights” are plastered to the high cement wall that surrounds the area. A part of you is glad that it at least looks like a secure place to live and bougie too; the gated entrance requiring a passcode with guards sitting at the doors screamed wealth.

Never in your life did you think you were going to be living in such an expensive-looking place. Even when you were still dating Seungcheol, who had money raining down on him constantly, you never desired this lifestyle. Maybe it was because you never understood the want to live in the suburbs, the city suited you better anyway.

Those initial thoughts are offset as you stare out the car window. children happily playing in the streets, the sun shining down on them, their laughter seeping through the cracks of the car door as they skip around. Everything here seems so cheerful. you wonder if you could begin to find that type of joy if you stay here long enough too.

As you approach the house you are forced to stay in, you realize that it looks like every other one in the neighbourhood. Large, modern, and painfully identical to your neighbours. A white picket fence lining the yard, with a front-facing garage that perfectly fits two cars. Large windows and a wrap-around porch tie it all together. You couldn’t help but be amazed at how grand everything looks, the difference is drastic from your cozy apartment back in the city.

An audible gulp goes down your throat. It didn’t start feeling real till now, especially because you spent the hour-long car ride daydreaming about your old home. Reading a book on the couch while stroking your cat, Norbert’s fur. His purring in the back seat calms you down, but not enough that you can accept your fate of living with Mingyu for the next year.

Your now “husband” parks in the driveway before popping the trunk open to unload the suitcases that carried half of your life. All your clothes, books, and trinkets are all sized down to sixty kilograms. It upset you to take only your most important things, but if it meant you’d be safe from your ex, you knew you had no choice but to agree.

As you opened the door to your new home, your heart began to pound in your chest.

You watched as Mingyu continued to haul everything from the car into the house; his large biceps bulging through his white tee as he carried the box that caged your now whining cat. Norbert’s meowing becomes more agitated with every passing second he spends in his carrier case, the guilty feeling pools in your stomach as his meows turn into cries. You hated keeping him in one place for long, especially for long car rides.

Norbert has always been an active cat, running around, and exploring your old neighbourhood, and at the end of the day, he always came back. At night you two spent hours cuddling while you read your books; sometimes reading the words aloud as if your cat could understand what you were saying.

Mingyu finishes up with the last of the boxes, taking a step back to look at the new house in all its glory. His hands on his hips as he sighs, admiring the work that had gone into building the house. You didn’t understand why he found the craftsmanship so interesting, but you decided not to think too hard about it.

He turns to you with an apprehensive smile, his eyes glinting in the sun, “Home sweet home, I guess.”

two.

The first few days at the new house were uneventful and awkward, to say the least. Mingyu spent the majority of his time doing random housework, he thought that if he had to live here for a year, then he should at least try and make it as “homey" as possible.

Many of the women in the neighbourhood had deemed Mingyu as their new eye candy, even though he wore his pink Shibu inu apron while tending to the garden at the front of the house. They would especially make sure to take multiple laps around the block during their group walks, drooling over his toned muscles as he began to plant an array of flowers on the lawn.

Mingyu isn’t very observant when it comes to people finding him attractive, believe it or not. He automatically assumes that the wives of Bridgewater just wanted to get to know the new couple that just moved in.

“What a beautiful garden you have!” one of the wives called out from the sidewalk, her eyes glinting with appeal.

“Thank you, It’s not done just yet, but I think we’re finally getting somewhere,” Mingyu smiles bashfully.

“Of course dear. You know if you’re ever free you should come and take a look at my garden,” another lady giggles, her innuendo flying right over Mingyu’s head.

The group of forty-plus-year-old women all giggle like school girls as they watch his face turn red with flattery. Mingyu scratched the back of his head awkwardly as they bid him goodbye, curious as to what the group of women thought was so funny about him taking a look at their gardens. It’s all just a bunch of flowers, isn’t it?

The sound of your car’s engine brings Mingyu out of his thoughts, his gardening tools forgotten by the piles of dirt. You lug Nortbert’s carrier as you walk into the house, acknowledging his presence with a small nod. His pink aprons raise a few questions in your head, but you decide not to comment on it.

“Oh hey you’re back, is he ok?” Mingyu asks, motioning to the carrier you hold in your hand.

Halting your steps, your eyes widen as you realize that he’s talking to you. There wasn’t much conversation between the two of you since you moved in. so you found it a little surprising that he’s asking about Norbert, the cat who tends to show lots of aggression towards him.

“Morning. He’s ok, I just took him for his check-up at the vet,” you shrug before entering the house.

You leave the conversation there. There wasn’t much else to say anyway, and you had a lot of work to get to before the end of the day. If Mingyu feels a little bit ignored by your actions, he doesn’t make it noticeable, going back to working on his garden.

From across the yard, neither you nor Mingyu notices Seungkwan’s looming figure as he and Vernon enjoy the Friday morning sun. He watches the two of you from his porch with a quirked eyebrow. They’re awkward for newlyweds, he thinks to himself.

“Nonie, don’t you think they’re a little weird?” Seungkwan nudges his boyfriend, who’s mumbling to himself while Vernon reads his book.

Vernon quirks up, moving his headphones a little to hear what his boyfriend has to say, “Huh? Sorry I was reading, what’d you say?”

“Nothing, go back to your book love,” Seungkwan mumbles, his eyes still darting back and forth from your descending figure and Mingyu, his suspicions spiking once more.

three.

“So, how’s the house? Do you guys have everything you need?” Jihoon asks over the phone.

Being the marshall officer assigned to your case, he would take time out of his hectic workday to check up on you and Mingyu. You still remember the first time he had contacted you, informing you about your ex escaping a planned police raid. The rhythmic beating of your heart stopped the moment those words left Jihoon’s lips, and the fear of Seungcheol showing up at your home unannounced at any moment doubled within a second.

You didn’t want to leave everything behind, especially because of how hard it was for you to build a life for yourself in your old city. But the other half of you was scared at the possibility of Seungcheol finding out about your new apartment and your new job; it was all too risky.

Now that you’re here, a part of you wonders what you would have said if Jihoon told you that Mingyu was the man they were going to put into witness protection alongside yourself. Maybe if you knew from the beginning you would’ve refused, or at least asked to be placed somewhere that allowed you to be alone.

“It’s fine Jihoon, we’ve unpacked everything, but our neighbours are quite noisy if I’m being honest,” you sigh, petting Norbert in your lap as you answer all of his questions.

The first day you and Mingyu moved in, your neighbour Seungkwan took it upon himself to introduce you to Bridgwater. Not only did he give you the rundown of every family that lived on your block, but he also became very curious about you and Mingyu. Seungkwan’s questions hit you back to back as if you were being interviewed, and you don’t even remember how you answered any of them.

“Who’s the handsome one carrying all your things?”

“Oh, that’s your husband? How long have you been married? How did you two meet?”

“Do you two have any kids? No? Oh what a shame, this neighbourhood is filled with them. Does your husband have a twin brother? Don’t tell Vernon I said that — just joking!”

“Oh, who’s Vernon? He’s my boyfriend, he’s in the house somewhere, anyways why did you two decide to move to Bridgwater?”

The questions went on for what felt like forever and before you knew it Mingyu had finished unpacking the first floor of the house. The place came fully furnished so you didn’t have much to do. But Seungkwan made you nervous to say the least, especially because you didn’t prepare to be quizzed on your first day in the neighbourhood. The only good thing to come out of that interaction was the brownies he baked, which tasted amazing, surprisingly enough.

“Why? Should I look into it?” Jihoon suggests, bringing you out of your thoughts.

You shake your head as if he can see you through the phone call.

“No, it’s okay, one of them just likes to gossip I think,” you laugh. “Other than that we’re fine.”

You hear Jihoon sigh out of relief, his day is already long enough. If he had to spend time looking into your neighbours to see if they had a criminal record, he would miss his dinner date.

“Okay, good to know. I’ll call you again next week,” Jihoon says with a monotonous tone.

A giggle leaves your lips, the exhaustion clear in his voice. You felt a little bad knowing he had to spend a lot of time on you and Mingyu’s case, but you were also thankful for the fact that you had someone to talk to from time to time.

It's only been about a week since you arrived in your little suburbia ‘haven’, and you still haven’t made any friends in the neighbourhood. You don’t count Seungkwan… he was more like a pain in the ass than a friend if anything. Although his boyfriend Vernon wasn’t as bad; quiet and a little expressionless, at least he kept to himself.

You hear the front door unlock with a beep, you already know who it is.

Whipping your head to see Mingyu stepping through the front door, hands filled with grocery bags. His appearance is laughable, his tall stature and large muscles contrasting the pink Shiba Inu apron that he wears over his clothes. You weren’t sure where he had got it from or why he chose to wear it in public, but you don’t feel like it’s your place to question him.

In the few days that you two have been living together, you begin to realize how different he is compared to his former mafia brothers. Mingyu had a knack for knowing his way around the kitchen, the whole house. He spent a lot of his free time cleaning, gardening, or making meals for the two of you.

The two of you didn’t talk much, and there was still some awkwardness lingering in the air. Meals were eaten with minimal conversation, and during the nights you would read your books in the living room, Mingyu would sit on the opposite side attempting to get Norbert to warm up to him.

“Norbert, please! Anytime but now, I have a shit ton of groceries that need to be put away!” You can hear Mingyu exasperate at the front of the house.

Norbert’s meowing rings throughout the house and you already know that his claws are probably scratching away at Mingyu’s pants. From what you have gathered, Norbert isn’t very fond of Mingyu. You assume that he’s just not used to having another person around the house, but at the same time, you thought your cat would have started to get used to his presence by now.

“Norbert, baby! Come and sit with me, I’ve got a new book for us to read,” you call out for him, saving Mingyu from your cat’s wrath.

The pitter-patter of his claws grows louder as he makes his way towards you, Mingyu’s large sigh of relief following shortly after. You laugh to yourself at how much he likes to torment Mingyu, even though Norbert only weighs about twenty pounds and is a cat.

The night goes on without another hitch. Mingyu prepares dinner for the two of you while you and Norbert dive into the first installment of Twilight. Reading aloud so your baby (cat) can follow along with the story about teenage vampires and werewolves.

four.

Mingyu was a man who thought he would never be able to escape his mafia, let alone be able to restart in a place that didn’t tie him to any of his illicit work. He never wanted to work for Seungcheol, nor did he want to live every day wondering if it was going to be his last.

He sees himself as a simple man, and all his daydreams are centered around living a simple life. A home that’s fit for a family, a golden retriever to throw frisbees with, and neighbourhood barbecues. He thought it was all some far-fetched fantasy.

It wasn’t until Jihoon got in contact with him, that’s when he realized that he finally had a chance at living the life he always dreamed of. What he didn’t know was that you would be the one he was going to be living with. But the moment Jihoon mentioned you, he knew that his wishes were more out of reach than he hoped.

He didn’t have anything against you, but he still remembers the day you left Seungcheol. It's heavily ingrained in his memory, not only because your escape created an uproar, but it was also the day he realized he too needed to get out of there as soon as possible.

…

“Boss? Wonwoo told me you wanted to talk,” Mingyu enters Seungcheol’s office, face painted with worry.

The office faces the west side of the city, skyscrapers and clouds surrounding the large floor-to-ceiling windows. There sat Seungcheol, his hair tousled every which way due to his habit of constantly running his fingers through it. The most obvious indicator of Seungcheol’s stress is if his hair is a complete mess, and that is how Mingyu knew that there must be something wrong.

“Y/n left,” Seungcheol’s voice breaks, head in his hands.

His eyes are bloodshot, shoulders shaking as he cries to himself quietly. Seungcheol wasn’t prepared for you to leave, let alone disappear without a single goodbye. He knew it was his fault too, and he knew why you left. The world flipped upside from that day onwards. Seungcheol hasn’t been the same since.

The air becomes thick, and Mingyu finds it hard to swallow. He knew how much Seungcheol adored you, and he knew that he would do anything for you.

“What? Why? Did she say anything to you?” Mingyu panics, unsure what to say or how to comfort his leader.

“No note, nothing,” Cheol sighs, picking at the chipped piece of wood on his desk. “All she left was her ring on the dresser.”

“I’m sorry Cheol, I didn’t know.” Mingyu becomes meek, his voice softer than feathers falling onto the pavement.

His stomach plummets to the ground. He had a feeling you found out what truly lies under Seungcheol’s business, but he didn’t know you would leave so hastily. He felt the guilt swirl throughout his body, but a part of him was relieved. Mingyu knew you weren’t meant for this lifestyle, and if you stayed any longer there would be no chance for you to escape.

Wonwoo informed him that he told you about what Seungcheol does to bring money in. He told Mingyu that it wouldn’t be right to continue to let you live so carelessly without knowing what type of person your fiance is.

It wasn’t long after that conversation that Mingyu found his way out of Seungcheol’s grasp too. He knows he should’ve felt bad, and that he should’ve at least found an excuse to leave Seungcheol. But he just couldn’t go through with it, he knew if he even spent a moment explaining himself, he would’ve never been able to leave.

Mingyu was Seungcheol’s right-hand man, his confidant, and most importantly his best friend. Mingyu has seen Cheol grow into the person he is today, and it only makes him feel even more remorse. He knows he should’ve stopped him from becoming blinded by wealth, by power. But he didn’t and it caused him not only to lose his fiancée, but also his brother.

Since that day, Mingyu has constantly pondered what could’ve been if Seungcheol hadn’t turned to mafia life. Would they have been happy? Would they have lived long lives with families of their own? There are so many unanswered what-ifs. He knows he can’t change his past anymore, but he knows that wants a better future. Even if it meant spending a year faking a marriage with his former best friend’s ex-fiancée.

five.

“Oh Y/n-ie! It’s good to see you, I swear I haven’t seen you leave the house since you’ve moved in,” Seungkwan snips, giving you a tooth-achingly sweet smile.

You try to suppress your eye-roll as much as possible as he walks over to your side of the comically green grassed yard. Seungkwan’s hand is on his hip as he watches you make your way to your car.

“Good afternoon to you too, Seungkwan. Just needed to pick up a few things for dinner. Mingyu spent the afternoon at the country club,” you return his fake smile, trying to keep up the facade of a doting wife.

“Oh! Is that so? I swear I thought your husband did the housework in your home. He’s always wearing that pink apron around the neighbourhood.” Seungkwan pretends to act invested in your “married life”, but he’s trying to get whatever gossip he can out of you. His real goal is purely to entertain the neighbourhood aunties with any information on the newlyweds.

Stopping in your tracks, his words catch you by surprise. You should’ve known that Seungkwan is an observant person, especially because he somehow knows everything about everyone in Bridgewater.

“Oh we split the chores evenly,” you let out a forced laugh, he offers to do the housework, and you think to yourself before continuing, “And he likes the apron, so who am I to deny his happiness?”

Not wanting to be grilled by Seungkwan any longer, you hastily slip into your car before he can get another word in.

…

“Norbert, please calm down honey, I’m trying to cook! And if I don’t end up eating neither will you,” you warn your cat to stop pawing at your leg.

Norbert was extra clingy today, and knowing you weren’t the best cook in the world, you couldn’t afford to ruin the recipe for a second time. Yes, a second time.

The first attempt at making alfredo for both you and Mingyu ended miserably, and thankfully you were smart enough to buy double the ingredients just in case any mistakes were to occur when you were cooking. The recipe online looked simple, and you even watched a few TikTok videos in an attempt to expand your knowledge.

You thought that making a cream sauce and boiling some noodles would be pretty straightforward, but somehow, you burnt the boiling noodles. Seeing all the noodles stick to the bottom of the pan you decided to just leave the searing pot in the sink and worry about it later, which turned out to be another grave mistake.

Mistake number two started when you thought the pot was cool enough to touch, earning you a sizzling burn on your soft skin. This explains Norbert’s clingy behaviour, witnessing all your fuck ups through his kitten eyes. You try not to swear in front of the baby but you couldn’t help but let out a few curses while you attempted to bandage up your burn.

To say the least, you shouldn’t be let into the kitchen from now on. But you felt bad that Mingyu made food for the both of you instead of letting you fend for yourself, so you thought you could at least return the gesture.

Norbert’s meows come to an abrupt stop as he hears the front door beep, making his way to greet Mingyu at the door. Except Norbert never greets Mingyu in a friendly way. Not more than ten seconds pass before you begin to hear Norbert’s hissing and clawing into the man's thighs.

“Norbert! Please! Where’s your mom? Can’t you just sit with her so I can at least take my shoes off?” Mingyu begs, causing you to snort.

Norbert doesn't listen to anyone but you, and even that is a rare occurrence for your sassy cat.

“Honey, come to the kitchen!” you yell at your cat to return to his rightful side beside you.

Mingyu comes speeding down the hallway, Norbert following him, his curious eyes peeking at your frame. He watches as you concentrate on making the alfredo sauce, tongue stuck out and a layer of sweat lining your forehead.

The sun is setting behind you, the golden rays hitting your face, highlighting your features beautifully. Mingyu is entranced, his prior feelings of hunger are nothing but a memory of the past.

You can feel his eyes on you, his stare boring holes into the side of your face and it causes your shoulders to stiffen slightly. Turning to face him, you quirk an inquisitive brow, not sure as to why he’s so trained on you. The gears begin to turn, and finally, the imaginary lightbulb begins to ding.

“I was calling for Norbert,” you clarified.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, but it’s fine if you’re here too. I tried to make us dinner, I know you’re the cook but I felt bad that you’re always the one preparing food for us,” you shrug, trying not to focus on how handsome Mingyu looks in his golfing attire.

His large biceps stretch the material of his shirt beyond belief, while the pants define his slim waist. The strands of hair are somehow perfectly placed, and his eyes are so kind, it would be stupid to deny his beauty. You can admit that Mingyu is extremely attractive, and you know you don’t owe Seungcheol anything, but the thought of being involved with Mingyu more than you already are could fuck things up for your future, especially knowing this arrangement isn’t permanent.

“I don’t mind though.”

“I know you don’t but I do,” you sigh, finishing up the dish by adding the sauce to the pasta.

Turning towards the island, you begin to plate the rest of the sides for dinner, trying your best to make sure that this batch is more edible than the first attempt. Mingyu continues to watch you, his arms crossed as he leans against the fridge.

This is everything Mingyu wished for himself, the view of you plating the food you’re about to eat together, even if you’re his ‘best friend’s’ ex. Playing golf at the country club, even if it’s with Jihoon, who wanted to be able to meet without being inconspicuous. Coming home to a fluffy fur baby, even though Norbert hates his guts. It may not be perfect, or how Mingyu imagined it exactly, but it’s better than before. Better than when he was living every day like it was his last, working a job that brought him no happiness.

“Did you burn yourself earlier?” he asks you, noticing the bandage you wrapped around your left hand.

“Yeah, I’m not the best cook so, if the food doesn't taste right, sorry,” you apologize in advance, not wanting Mingyu to get his hopes up.

He laughs at how apologetic you look, and you turn to give him a glare, his canines poking out of his smile like fangs. This is probably one of the first times you two held a full conversation. The only other time was when you were deciding on how the house was going to be run, and picking out your separate bedrooms.

Mingyu was kind enough to let you stay in the master bedroom while he slept in the room across the hall from yours. If you took away the history you had with Mignyu and Seungcheol, you could imagine that the two of you are just like roommates. Living together, acquainted, but not exactly friendly or close.

It isn’t as bad as you thought it was going to be, and you may have misjudged Mingyu at first. He’s a lot different than he was all those years ago, or maybe you find him to be different now because you didn't know him all that well when you were still with Seungcheol.

You find Mingyu to be kind, soft-hearted, and a man who somehow knows a lot about taking care of the house. Even knowledgeable on how to clean Norbert’s litter box, and give him the occasional bath.

“What did you and Jihoon talk about at the country club?” you ask him, wanting to know if there’s any important news that should be brought to your attention.

“Well he said that the FBI is still on the hunt for Seungcheol, but the rest of the guys have already been put into custody,” he sighs.

“And Wonwoo?”

“He’s fine, they pardoned him for giving up information,” Mingyu mutters, walking up to the space beside you.

He takes the bowl of lettuce from your hands, adding in all the ingredients you prepped for the salad to have alongside your pasta. The brush of your hands makes you blush like some teenage girl, but you allow him to help you nonetheless. You didn’t realize how tiring cooking was because you’ve never had to cook for more than one person before.

“That’s good to hear. If it weren’t for Wonwoo, I wouldn’t have been able to leave that damn place,” you laugh bitterly, folding the sauce into your noodles, making sure they were fully coated.

“I was there, that day,” Mingyu mentions, his eyes trained on preparing the food in front of him, “Seungcheol was a wreck.”

“I know, and I know it hurt him, but I couldn’t stand being there anymore. Especially after Wonwoo told me the truth.”

“It’s okay, he’s not the same guy I knew from when we were kids either.”

“I hope he’s moved on at least.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Mingyu shrugs, his eyes glassy, “I left a few days after you did.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, for the same reasons you did, and also for myself,” he sighs, moving away to grab plates from the cupboards.

Standing there, you’re stunned. Mingyu was someone Seungcheol saw as his brother, and you thought they would live their mafia life together till the end. As cheesy as it sounds, there were times you felt that your ex cared more for Mingyu than any other person who worked for him.

Mingyu begins to set the table, Norbert following closely as he peers at the counter to see all the food that you’ve made. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought that even your cat was aware of the stiff atmosphere that blankets you and Mingyu.

You don’t know if you should pry, so you just nod and help him with putting dinner on the table. And for the rest of the night, it was quiet. Eating in silence while Norbert watches Bluey in the living room, something that you’ve always put on for him just to keep him occupied while you and Mingyu eat dinner.

After dinner was finished, Mingyu offered to wash the dishes, allowing you to relax and enjoy some episodes of Bluey with Norbert purring peacefully by your side.

“Mind if I join?” Mingyu enters the living room, wearing sweats and a white tank top.

You give him a shy smile gesturing for him to sit on your right side while Norbert lays on the cushion to your left. His taunt muscles distract you for a second, but you do your best to shake the attraction from your coursing veins. The couch dips and Mingyu lets out a relieved sigh. Probably because he was tired from the day he spent trying to pretend he was out golfing with Jihoon.

“So what’s the show about?” Mingyu asks you, his eyes trained on your side profile.

“A show about a dog family,” you chuckle, “Originally it was meant for Norbert to watch when I’m working or when we’re eating, but it’s pretty good.”

“Really? Isn’t it for kids?” Mingyu snorts but continues to sit next to you, watching the said kids' show.

“Yeah it is, but Norbert is a kid to me,” you laugh, giving Norbert extra pats.

“He’s a little menace that one,” Mingyu shakes his head, “I don’t think he likes me very much.”

“Norbert just needs to get used to you,” you shrug, “I’ve had him since I left Seungcheol, so he’s seen me at my worst, he might just be overprotective of me.”

Mingyu nods, taking in everything you’re telling him. He understands how leaving your ex-fiance is traumatic and heartbreaking. He knows it wasn’t easy for you, but at least you had Norbert to help you heal.

“It wasn’t an easy decision, and Norbert helped me stay strong. It was lonely without Seungcheol for a long time, and a part of me will always love who he used to be.”

Heat overwhelms Mingyu’s body, and his heart breaks for you. He can’t imagine what it's like to love someone and find out they’re not the person you thought they were. He knew you tried to tolerate his work, but at some point, you were led to your breaking point.

“I hope you know you did the right thing. Seungcheol was going down a dark path and you were able to get out,” Mingyu smiles at you, his eyes filled with sincerity.

“Thank you Mingyu, I appreciate that,” you return his smile.

The two of you spend the rest of the night watching episodes of Bluey with Norbert, talking a little in between about the characters. Laughing at the scenes with Bluey and her younger sister, falling into a comfortable silence with each passing second.

…

You feel warm, no, hot even. The sunlight hitting your face makes your eyes scrunch in discomfort. There's an ache in your shoulders as you begin to wake up from a very uncomfortable sleep. An arm pinning you down to the couch, a leg over yours. It takes you a while to begin to comprehend where you are and who is lying next to you.

Mingyu’s snores fill your ears, heavy breaths tickling the back of your neck. You almost fall onto the carpet as you realize who exactly is holding you. Last night ended so peacefully, so much so that you don’t even remember falling asleep to begin with.

Yet here you are, enveloped in his grasp, panicking and wondering how you’re going to escape without waking him up. And if matters couldn’t get any worse, you feel a hard bump brush against your lower back. The blush on your cheeks intensifies, he can’t be, you think to yourself. But you know what exactly is poking you as if this situation could get any more awkward.

It's normal, right? Men get morning wood all the time, you thought to yourself.

“Shit…” you whisper to yourself, slowly prying Mingyu’s arm from off your waist.

He stirs in his sleep as you move off the couch but not enough to wake him up. As you stand up to walk away, you take one last peek at him, wondering how you two ended up falling asleep while watching Bluey of all shows.

The usually sharp features are softened by his slumber, giving him a youthful look. It’s the first time you’ve seen him look so peaceful, and it suits him. This neighbourhood suits him as if he’s been living here all his life. It makes you feel a little envious knowing how easy it is for him to assimilate. He remembers all the neighbours' names and says hello to everyone who passes him while he's working in the yard, he just made it all look so easy to forget his life in the bustling city. Although you can’t blame him, you can tell he loves it here because of how much care he puts into the house. You can’t help but wonder why he’s trying so hard knowing both of you will part ways by next year.

six.

While you spent the majority of the day holed up in your office trying to finish off the rest of your projects, Mingyu decided that it was a lovely day to try and bond more with Norbert. He wasn’t sure how to make the stubborn kitten fall for him, but he thought that a nice walk around the neighbourhood couldn’t hurt.

The day had barely started and Norbert was already making a fuss. Mingyu isn’t well-versed when it comes to cats; he’s more of a dog person himself. So to his surprise, Norbert was very adamant about staying indoors today.

“Don’t you wanna explore the neighbourhood, Norbert?” Mingyu tries to persuade the cat, which makes him feel like a fool.

Norbert gives him a blank stare obviously, and Mingyu wonders why he’s even trying knowing that the cat probably can’t understand him anyway. Trying his best to compromise with the ever-so-stubborn Norbert, a light bulb goes off in his head.

It surely wasn’t easy, and there were a few scratches here and there, but Mingyu finally was able to put Norbert into the basket of his bicycle. The cat meowed like crazy until he was hit with the fresh air and warm sunlight. His meows died down and he sat in the basket peacefully, watching the kids play on the street and the cars pass by.

“See? Not so bad now is it?” Mingyu chuckles, noticing the shift in Norbert’s mood. He meows back while nuzzling into the safety of his blanket.

“It’ll be a boys’ day today, your mom’s busy working,” Mingyu continues, even though the animal can’t understand what he’s saying.

Feeling the wind brush through his hair, Mingyu takes a deep breath of fresh air. A content smile made its way onto his face, he could get used to this. The neighbours of Bridgewater waved to him as he biked along the streets. It's so peaceful, everyone is happy, and Mingyu is happy. He loved to explore even if it was just by himself, even if it meant he was alone with his thoughts.

“Mingyu darling, what are you doing out and about today?” one of the older women he sees daily calls out for him.

“Good afternoon! Me and Norbert just wanted to explore today,” he smiles with a toothy grin.

The woman blushes at his handsome visuals, trying not to get caught up in his charms. She looks behind his large frame, spotting the cat sleeping peacefully in the basket attached to his bike. Letting out a giggle, finding it quite funny that Norbert is a cat and not a dog, usually, you don’t take cats out for these types of things.

“Where’s that wife of yours? I’ve only seen her a few times, but oh my, isn’t she so pretty? You got lucky you know,” she chuckles, patting Mingyu’s arm playfully.

Mingyu’s eyes shine at the mention of you, he agrees that you’re pretty but it feels a little weird that you're referred to as his wife, knowing that it’s all a facade.

“Thank you miss, I’ll have to let her know that you said that,” he replies kindly while Norbert stirs a little in his spot before returning to his sleep.

“Please don’t call me Miss, it's so formal! Just call me Auntie, okay?” she returns his kind smile. “You know what, I’ve got some leftover kimchi, why don’t you take it home, for you and your wife.”

Mingyu’s eyes widened, his heart warmed by her act of kindness. “Is that ok? You don’t have to feel obligated to do that.”

“Oh please, you young people, always so polite. I want to! So please share it with your wife, make some kimchi stew for dinner,” she reassures him, leaving him at her front yard to fetch a container of said kimchi.

She comes back with a huge tub, enough to feed them for a whole month maybe. Handing him over the large container, she reminds him to come back when they run out. Bidding her goodbye, Mingyu returns home from his bike ride successfully with a sleepy cat and a comically large tub of fermented cabbage in tow.

…

The smell of kimchi stew wafts from the kitchen into your office causing your stomach to growl with hunger. Focused on your pending tasks, you didn’t realize how fast the time flew by while you were working. Glancing over at the clock you’re surprised that it's already a quarter to five.

Stepping out to see what Mingyu’s doing in the kitchen, you find his back turned to you, nursing a large pot of stew on the burner. His large frame is accentuated by a white tank top, the pink string of his apron strewn along his waist. At this point, you weren’t sure if you were drooling over the smell of the food or the sight of your muscular fake husband.

“What are you cooking?” you call out, leaning against the door frame that leads to your workspace.

Mingyu jumps at the sound of your voice, surprised that you’ve come out so early. He knows you tend to work for long periods, only coming out when you’ve fully completed your assigned projects.

“Kimchi stew, the lady down the street gave us a huge tub,” he replies, still stirring the pot without looking back at you. “I took Norbert out for a bike ride and she offered so.”

“You took Norbert for a bike ride?” you ask with a raised eyebrow.

Norbert is the type of cat who doesn’t like getting picked up and knowing that information makes it hard to believe Mingyu was able to successfully put him into the basket attached to his bike. Imagining him fighting to get your very grumpy cat into the bike made you giggle, especially because you know how much Norbert doesn’t like Mingyu.

“Yeah, after a few scratches, he got in and I think he liked it. He fell asleep for most of it though,” Mingyu snorted, recalling how much that furball of fury put up a fight till his body hit the basket.

“It’s nice that you’re trying to bond with him, it just takes him a while to warm up to you.”

“Yeah, I figured we just needed a boy's day while you were working.”

“Hmm, anyways the kimchi stew, is it ready?” you inquire while your stomach’s impatience continues to grow with each passing second.

“It should be good, do you mind setting the table for me?” he requests while taking the pot off the burner.

You don’t say anything else, moving to the living room to turn on more episodes for Norbert before grabbing plates from the cabinets to place them on the small dinner table.

The serving dish needed for the stew sat at the very top shelf of the cupboard and your arms were simply too short to grab it. Your movements come to an abrupt halt the moment you feel Mingyu stand close behind you, one hand on your waist while the other hovers over you to grab the bowl.

“Let me get it for you,” he grunts, taking the dish in his hand to ladle in the stew.

Heart pounding in your chest, his breath tickles the back of your neck, a shiver running down your spine. Mingyu’s body encases yours as his arm comes back down to place the dish on the counter.

Cursing yourself, you're thankful your back is turned to him or else he would be able to see the blush that’s starting to bloom on your cheeks. You mumble a small thanks before going to the table to resume setting the plates down for dinner.

As you two eat in silence you think about all the moments you’ve had with Mingyu today. The time you slept on the couch until just now when he held you close. It didn’t even mean anything, it shouldn’t mean anything, yet it replays in your mind like clockwork.

seven.

The ringing of the doorbell brings you out of your thoughts, placing your book down, you head over to answer the door. It’s none other than your gossip of a neighbour Seungkwan.

“Lovely evening Y/n-ie!” He smiles brightly, inviting himself into the foyer of your house before you could even protest.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes yet again, stepping aside to allow Seungkwan to go on with whatever it is that brought him barging into your home.

“Good evening,” you respond curtly, suspicious as to what he could need at this hour.

“Vernon and I have some friends over for a little nightcap and dessert, do you and Mingyu want to join?” he asks, eyes never leaving yours.

To a normal and maybe less paranoid person, one would assume that Seungkwan is just being a kind neighbour, but you’re not so easily fooled. The glint in his eyes makes you realize there’s probably an ulterior motive to his ‘act of kindness’.

“Oh no it’s okay, it would be rude to impose,” you try to play it off politely, but the fucker wouldn’t budge.

“Nonsense! I’m inviting you and Mingyu because I want you two there,” he explains, waving his hand at you.

Before you can refuse him even more, you hear Mingyu coming out of his room to check up on why you’re taking so long at the front door.

“Y/n, is everything alright?” he calls out for you as he walks towards the foyer.

“Everything’s all fine and dandy Mingyu, I just came over to invite you and Y/n over for some drinks and dessert!” Seungkwan informs him before you can get another word out.

“That sounds like fun actually, why don’t we go baby?” Mingyu turns over to you, his eyebrows raised, his smile tight as he tries to silently tell you that he’s putting an act up for Seungkwan.

Still flustered by the pet name, you cough out a yes. Turning over to Seungkwan to give him a fake smile. He returns your smile, eyes squinted, you can see how hard the gears are working in that brain of his. You know that he probably finds you two odd because of how awkward you and Mingyu are with each other, but you attempt to play it off as normal as possible.

“It’s settled then! Let's go, can’t keep everyone else waiting,” he exclaims as he opens the door, gesturing for the two of you to walk out first before closing the door.

Crossing over to Seungkwan’s side of the yard, he opens the door for the two of you like the perfect host that you figured he would be. You cannot deny that his extroverted persona allows him to be so persuasive, but you can’t get over the fact that he’s a little too curious.

“The newlyweds are here!” he calls out and five heads whip over to stare at you and Mingyu standing awkwardly in the foyer of their home.

Mingyu grasps your hand in his, his palms rough, probably from all the work he does in the yard. Making your way over to the couch, a man with long hair gets up to pour you two drinks. This is the most that you two have come into contact with each other consciously if you don’t count the time on the couch.

A part of you wonders if Mingyu realizes what happened this morning, but you’re too embarrassed to bring it up. So you’ll leave it and hope he doesn’t remember you two squeezed so intimately on the living room sofa.

“Everyone, this is Y/n and Mingyu, they moved into the house beside ours a couple of weeks ago,” he introduces the two of you.

As the two of you say your hello’s Mingyu pulls over to sit beside him on the couch, his arm wrapped around your waist. The blush on your cheeks stays permanently as you’re practically sitting on his lap. You try not to blow your cover but it’s hard with so many people's eyes on you.

“You both already know Vernon-ie, the one grabbing your drinks is Jeonghan and that’s his wife, Valerie,” Seungkwan gets you two acquainted with the couple before moving on. “That’s Joshua and Maren, his wife.”

“Nice to meet you! I’m Valerie but you can just call me Val,” the woman with brownish black hair smiles at you, and you can only nod, still overwhelmed with the amount of people you just met, “So why did you guys choose to live in Bridgewater?”

“We thought it would be a nice place to live, I work from home and Mingyu is currently taking a break. The first time we saw the listing, we knew it was going to be our forever home,” you lie straight through your teeth.

There's a twinge of guilt that stirs at the pit of your stomach, you feel bad for lying to these people because of how kind they all looked. You even felt bad for lying to Seungkwan, albeit he can be a nosy little shit but at least he’s nice enough to introduce you to his friends.

“If you don’t mind me asking where did you and Mingyu meet?” Maren, the woman sitting beside Joshua asks with a curious sparkle in her eyes.

You almost choke on your drink, eyes wide because you were not prepared for all these questions thrown at you. Thankfully Mingyu took the lead this time, his thumb rubbing soothing circles where he had his hand placed on your waist.

“We met through a mutual friend, we were in university at the time,” he smiles warmly and Maren listens intently, hanging onto Mingyu’s every word. “The moment I saw her I knew I was going to marry her.”

Mingyu turns to you, placing a kiss on the top of your head, and your cheeks heat up for what feels like the millionth time today. Even though his acting this way with you is all a facade your heart can’t help but skip a beat.

“What! That’s so cute,” Maren gushes before glaring at her husband before hitting his arm jokingly. “Why can’t you say cheesy stuff like that?”

Joshua’s eyes go wide and he can’t help but stutter. “Bro you’re making the rest of us look really bad right now.”

Mingyu barks out a laugh and just shrugs nonchalantly knowing that no one is immune to his charms. Even if all of this is a lie, he can’t help but play into the sappy newly-wed trope with you, and it doesn't help that he finds you so caring and beautiful too. There’s something about the way you lean into him on the couch and the soft smile you give him while talking about your “forever home”, you make it easy for him to imagine fake scenarios of how you two met.

“What university did you two go to?” Jeonghan pipes up from his seat, his arm wrapping around Val as he sips on his glass of bourbon.

“I went to Yonsei, I majored in statistics. Mingyu and I met at a club with our mutual friends,” you try not to sound too nervous while you piggyback off of Mingyu’s lie.

The back of your neck feels hot from having everyone inquire about your history with Mingyu, and it doesn’t help that your ‘husband’’s sitting so close to you, his body heat transferring over to you. At least it wasn’t a complete lie, you did go to Yonsei and you majored in stats; just way before you met both Seungcheol and Mingyu.

“What about you Mingyu?” Jeonghan moves on to him, and he perks up in his seat, mouth full of the cheesecake that Seungkwan made. The food fills his cheeks slightly and you giggle at how much he resembles a chipmunk.

“I went to SNU, and majored in business,” he states after swallowing his dessert and clearing his throat.

“Okay, enough with the interrogation. Can we talk about something else?” Vernon interrupts, obviously feeling bad for the fact that the rest of them have been asking you two questions for the majority of the night.

The rest of the group laughs, probably because they know that Vernon doesn’t talk unless he’s prompted to. Although you don’t know him very well you could tell that he was more of a listening type. It makes sense that he and Seungkwan are together, he does enough talking for the both of them.

You were more surprised by Mingyu’s answer though, you didn’t know that he went to SNU, if that was even the truth. Although he does look like the business type. There was something about him that exudes the energy of a CEO or a man who’s just good at making connections. He’s able to catch people's attention, his words carry the weight of someone who isn’t afraid to speak out loud.

With the way he talked to Seungkwan’s friends tonight, you realized how well-articulated he is, and the fact that he’s able to get people to listen to what he has to say. Although he’s a little goofy, if you didn’t know him you would’ve assumed he’s someone important just by how he carries himself outside of the house. There’s a swell of pride within you when you watch him talk about your ‘past’, and for some reason, you don’t mind it. If anything, you’re looking forward to more moments like this.

…

The rest of the evening went along smoothly after that, and by the time everyone was ready to leave it was nearing one in the morning. You helped Seungkwan clean up in the kitchen, putting away the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. The two of you were quiet for a bit, only talking when you asked him about what goes where.

A part of you felt bad for being so curt with Seungkwan in the beginning. Maybe you were wrong about him and he just likes to be a nosy nieghbour, maybe it’s his way of making friends. You can’t help but be guarded due to your past and you misjudged him too quickly.

Maybe it was the glasses of wine you had or the fact that you saw a different version of him. But there’s a lovable side to him, and also a side that doesn’t mind embarrassing himself a little to get a laugh out of his friends.

“I want to thank you for inviting me and Mingyu tonight, all of our friends are in the city so we don’t get to see them often,” you confessed. “It’s nice to have someone else to talk to other than Mingyu or Norbert.”

He turns to you with a genuine smile, and you notice that maybe that glint in his eyes is permanent, a glint that shows his happy demeanor and not the type that’s meant to show his mischievousness.

“I’m glad you had fun because you’ll be invited to things like these from now on,” he expresses, his smile reaching his eyes now.

“I appreciate it, Mingyu needs more friends in the neighbourhood, ones that are his age and don’t constantly drool over him,” you roll your eyes, recalling all the aunties who stroll past your front yard daily.

“I can be his friend but I can’t promise I won’t drool over him,” he giggles, causing you to slap his arm playfully.

“Hey! Leave my husband alone, you have your own. Don't get greedy now,” you feign anger at him, glaring at him before bursting out laughing.

Mingyu walks into the kitchen, handing over the rest of the dishes that were left in the living room. His eyes dart back and forth between you as he realizes how much closer you two have gotten tonight.

“Thank you, Gyu, if you ever get tired of being bossed around by Y/n you can always live with me and Nonie,” Seungkwan giggles as he calls him by his nickname, giving his large bicep a squeeze.

You gasp at how forward Seungkwan is, your hand placed over your chest as you pretend to be offended by his words. He only glances back at you to stick his tongue out.

“You’re so childish, he’s my husband,” you attested, pulling Mingyu by his arm so he could stand closer to you. “And I’m not bossy, Mingyu just enjoys doing housework!”

Mingyu is even more confused now, but he cracks a smile when he sees how playful you’ve become. He concludes that maybe you just had a little more to drink than normal and goes along with you and Seungkwan’s teasing.

“Woah that’s enough you two, there’s enough Mingyu for everyone,” he laughs and you give him a sour look. He was obviously feeling himself too much in that moment, but you can’t help but chuckle at how cocky he sounds.

“Let’s go home Gyu, before Seungkwan decides to hold you hostage.” you huff emphasizing his nickname before you drag him over to the front door. “Bye Seungkwan, I already know I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Waving goodbye to Kwan, you pass Vernon on your way as he sits on the couch scrolling on his phone while the two other couples mingle amongst themselves.

“Bye everyone, it was nice meeting you, but it’s way past her bedtime,” Mingyu muses, motioning over to you. Your eyes feel droopy and you were practically hanging off of Mingyu’s body as he held you by the waist.

They all say their goodbyes to the two of you with promises to meet soon again. Mingyu guides you through the front door and across the green grassed lawn back to your place.

The time you spent with everyone tonight allowed you to recognize that maybe it isn’t so bad living here. Especially if you’ll be able to talk to them more often. No one but Mingyu knows about your past, and that reassures you to start new friendships, even though they’re temporary.

eight.

The next morning you woke up to your phone ringing incessantly, to the point you almost threw it across your room. It wasn’t until you read the name “Jihoon” flashing across the screen, causing you to fully wake up from what feels like a hundred years' worth of sleep. You silently promised yourself to remind Mingyu to not let you drink so much wine at Seungkwan’s house again.

“Jihoon? Is everything alright? You usually check up on us in the evening,” you stammered, sleep still evident in your voice.

“Y/n, hey sorry to call so early but…they’ve located Seungcheol,” he sighs, the news of his whereabouts hanging in the air.

Gulping nervously, your palms sweat. The way Jihoon sounded a little apprehensive made you feel uncertainty brewing in the pit of your stomach.

“Go on.”

“He used a burner to call a friend of his I’m guessing, but we were able to ping it and he’s in the town next to yours.”

“What?!” Now you’re fully freaking out, pushing your comforter to go and find Mingyu.

“I’m really sorry Y/n,” Jihoon sounds just as stressed as you are.

Searching around the house you see him sitting on the sofa with Norbert beside him, they’re watching more episodes of Bluey, but he pauses the show after noticing the panicked look on your face. You go to sit beside him putting your phone on speaker so the both of you can hear what Jihoon has to say.

“You’re on speaker, Mingyu’s right beside me,” you mention before allowing him to continue.

His sigh is audible through the speakers of your phone, and your blood pressure rises. If Jihoon is this worried then you should probably just be as worried.

“They found his location to be at a motel in the next town over, we don’t know how he found out but he might be looking for you two,” he explains carefully. “I’m sending over another Marshall officer to watch over you two while we continue to track Seungcheol. You two should be safe with him but try not to leave the neighbourhood for now, it could get dangerous if he ends up seeing either of you.”

“Okay got it, thank you Jihoon,” Mingyu replies, his hand subconsciously placed over yours as you two bear the news of your very dangerous ex potentially on the hunt for you two.

Jihoon gives you two his regards before he hangs up, probably too busy to linger on the phone for any longer.

Giving Mingyu a nervous look, he can tell how hard this information is for you to handle. After a month of being here in what felt like a sanctuary from the dangers of the outside world, you’re pulled back into reality. You’re reminded of why you’re really here, more scared than ever.

The tears start to fall before you even realize and Mingyu doesn’t say anything else, instead, he pulls you into your arms and tries to comfort you as much as possible. Even though he’s just as scared as you are, he’s determined to protect you, to protect his home, even Norbert.

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” he whispers into your ear as you cry into his chest, your tears wetting his shirt.

“You did nothing wrong, Mingyu,” you blabber as his hand rubs your back, trying to console your sobs. “I’m just so scared, what if he hurts us? What if you get hurt? I wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

“Hey hey, it’s okay, I got you, I won’t let anyone hurt you. Don’t forget where I came from before all this,” he reassures you, pulling you back to look you in your eyes with a solemn stare. “He’s not going to touch even a single hair on you, or Nobert.”

You giggle a little at the fact that he’s always so inclusive to the cat who’s a bitch to him but you’re happy to know that he’s willing to protect all of you. He laughs with you, wiping away the tears that have fallen from your eyes, his touch as gentle as a mouse despite how large his hands are.

“You’re the best fake husband, I hope you know that,” you mumble as you go back into his embrace. “I know I haven’t said it yet, but I appreciate everything you’ve done for us.”

“Thank you Y/n, you’re the best fake wife too,” he whispers back, kissing the top of your head just like he did last night.

Except this time there’s no one to fool, there’s no one to lie to. It’s just the two of you, and the subtle meaning behind his affection makes you wish that it was Mingyu you fell for all those years ago instead.

…

Jihoon: I have an officer who’ll be patrolling the area, his name is Jun Wen. Here’s his badge number: ###### and picture. Just in case someone tries to come and impersonate him, also don’t mind if he’s a little weird, that's just how he is; and yes, he knows what he’s doing so don’t worry. You’re in safe hands.

An eyebrow quirks up as you read the last part of his text wondering what he meant about “weird”. As if on cue, the sound of the doorbell reverberates throughout your house. That must be him, you thought to yourself.

Mingyu leaves his spot on the couch and goes to get the door. He's become extra protective of you since the call you had with Jihoon this morning. It allows you to relax a little knowing he’ll be the one to answer the door from now on.

“Uh, Y/n? Why’s there some guy meowing at Norbert on our front porch?” Mingyu asks you with a puzzled expression on his face.

“Huh?” you’re just as confused as he is, but you walk over to Mingyu with your phone in hand regardless.

Looking down at the picture Jihoon sent and back at the man squatted beside Norbet, you realize this is what Jihoon meant about him being weird. From the picture that was sent, he looks like a perfectly normal guy, maybe he just really likes cats? You wondered to yourself.

“Oh that’s Jun, the guy Jihoon sent over,” you mumble, showing Mingyu the picture on your phone.

“Huh,” Mingyu says, dumbfounded.

Opening the door you don’t say anything, just watching the man named Jun make noises at your cat, who looks disgruntled and very annoyed at the random human disturbing his sleep. He’s dressed in normal clothing instead of a uniform, probably so that the neighbours don’t ask any questions.

“Mah-ow, mahhh-owww,” Jun keeps on making weird noises, blissfully unaware of the two of you staring at him from the now-opened front door.

“Uh excuse me, sir, what are you doing?” you call out to him, the confusion still very clear on your face.

Norbert hears your voice, ears perking up before he slips past Mingyu’s legs to go back into the house. His little claws clack against the hardwood as he makes his way onto the couch to continue with his afternoon nap.

“Aw man, you guys scared the cat away,” he sighs animatedly before standing up to greet the two of you with his hand out to shake. “Hi, my name’s Jun, I’ll make sure bad guys won’t come and attack.”

You and Mingyu exchange looks before looking back at Jun, then back at each other again. This is definitely not the type of guy you were expecting, but Jihoon trusts him, and you trust Jihoon’s judgment.

“We didn’t-uh, never mind, anyways I’m Y/n, this is Mingyu,” you start to explain that you're not the one to scare Norbet away, but you quickly change your mind. Instead, you return his handshake with a curt smile.

“Well, I'll just be patrolling around the neighbourhood, you’ll see me parked a few houses down once in a while. If you need anything, here’s my number.” He hands you his card which is filled with doodles of cats.

He really does like cats, you confirm.

He walks away with a wave before going back into his car and driving off. Mingyu bursts out laughing, hands clutching his stomach before he sighs, wiping off fake tears from his eyes.

“That’s the guy that’s going to be helping us? Really?” he chuckles, looking at you like you’d know the answer to Jun’s odd behaviour.

“Hey, don’t ask me, ask Jihoon,” you slap his arm playfully before laughing with him.

“Well, hopefully, nothing bad happens from now on, I honestly think we could manage without a bodyguard of sorts, or whatever he is,” Mingyu snorts, off put by Jun’s personality.

“Jihoon appointed him, so I’m sure he’s well trained. He wouldn’t have sent him over otherwise,” you rationalize, not wanting to doubt the person who’s meant to be protecting you from Seungcheol.

“Okay, you’re right. Let’s just go inside, I’ll make us kimchi pancakes,” Mingyu beckons, and you close the door behind you before following him to the kitchen.

Jun being there just gives you an extra layer of reassurance, and you know Mingyu is just as capable, but it doesn’t hurt to have backup. Seungcheol is a smart man, and you’re not sure what tricks he has up his sleeve, so it’s better to be safe than sorry.

…

“Okay so now we just have to mix the pajeon mix with the kimchi,” Mingyu instructs, once again wearing his pink ruffled apron, but this time you’re wearing a matching one.

With your hair tied up, and hands messy with kimchi pancake mix, you follow every instruction that Mingyu gives you. It was his idea to teach you to cook, especially because he knows you’re not well-versed in the kitchen.

“Now what?” you ask, looking up at him for guidance, but before you can instruct him you spot the flour splattered on his nose. “Hey, you’ve got a little bit of… lemme just—”

Not realizing your hands were covered in the wet batter you end up getting the mixture all over his face too. Gasping at what you’ve just done, Mingyu looks at you with wide eyes before taking some of the batter in the bowl and smearing it on your face.

“Hey! I didn’t mean to, why’d you do that?” you let out a boisterous laugh, running away from him before he could catch you again.

“I know you did that on purpose!” he yells out, chasing you around the kitchen island in circles.

“No, I didn’t! Stop chasing me!” you squeal as he starts to close the distance between you two.

“Liar, I’m getting my revenge!” he laughs along with you, hot on your trail.

The two of you run in circles for a while till you have to catch your breath, causing you to slow down. Mingyu takes this opportunity to finally be able to get a hold of you, wrapping his hands around your waist with little effort before placing you on the counter.

“Say your final words now,” he fakes a serious tone, his crinkled as he tries to hold back his laughter.

Before you can get another word in he tickles your sides causing you to squirm against him as your back hits the counter. The bowl filled with kimchi pancake mix is long forgotten, half empty because of how much of it got onto both your clothes.

“Ok stop! I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to, I promise,” your words getting cut off by your laughter, Mingyu not relinquishing his hold on you.

He stops for a moment, his finger pointed at you, “You promise?”

You nod innocently, his upper body flushed against yours, legs intertwined at his waist as he pins you down to the counter with his other hand.

“Not!” you bite the finger pointed at you, but Mingyu’s reflexes are too fast, his large hands pinning your wrists to the counter once more.

The two of you have calmed down considerably since then, both tired from running around the kitchen. Your laboured breaths are the only thing that can be heard within the confines of your home. Mingyu’s face is dangerously close to yours, and if you leaned forward your lips would touch.

The pounding in your chest doesn’t subside and Mingyu’s eyes don’t leave yours. His strong arms are perfectly within your line of sight, and at this moment you feel like you and Mingyu are the only people in the whole world. There are no fears or doubts, no scary ex hunting you down. Just you and Mingyu.

Without even thinking, you both lean forward and capture each other’s lips in a soft kiss. You can tell he’s unsure at first, his hands loosening around your wrists, being as careful with you as he was this morning when he wiped away your tears. But you want more.

Pressing your lips against his with more vigour, your legs wrap around his waist to pull his pelvis closer to yours. A grunt leaves Mingyu’s lips, he takes this action as a signal to kiss you more passionately. His tongue laps against yours, his hands lifting you so you’re both upright.

“Mingyu,” you whimper, feeling the wet open-mouthed kisses he begins to press against your neck.

Before you can get any further, a cat meows beneath the two of you, his head turned in confusion. You pull away from him first, staring at your menacing cat, Fucking Norbert, you curse him out in your head before hopping off the counter and dusting yourself off.

“I’m gonna go shower, then we can go back to making the pancakes,” you smile awkwardly up at Mingyu.

“Oh okay, me too, yeah.” He scratches the back of his head.

Before you head to the washroom in your room you turn around once more and give Mingyu a quick peck on the lips. His arms wrap around your waist, trying to deepen the kiss once more. But you stop him before he can go any further, laughing at how needy he has gotten.

“Let’s do that more often,” you giggle before running off to the washroom.

Mingyu sighs with content, his cheeks rosy from your flirting. With you gone, he sticks his tongue at Norbert in frustration. What a cockblock, he says to himself in his head. Norbert meows in response before walking back to his spot on the couch.

No one’s ever made Mingyu feel the way you just did. At that moment he realized how fucked he is, you’re only here with him for the next eleven months, then what? Do you two go on with your lives separately? And you two are supposed to just forget everything? The more he thinks about it, the more determined he is to stay. The more determined he becomes to make you his and to give you the life you deserve.

The love you deserve.

nine.

“Afternoon, Jun!” you wave from the porch as you see his car approaching your driveway, his windows down, hair flowing through the wind.

He looks so carefree despite how important his job is, and it makes you a little envious of his lighthearted personality. He must have a happy life out of work because you swear no one is this lax with a job like his.

“Good afternoon to you too, Y/n,” he gives you a big smile, his little satchel wrapped around him as he makes his way over to you.

It’s been about a week since Jun has been patrolling the nieghbourhood, and Seungkwan’s asked a few questions about the cute but odd guy frequenting your house. The quickest lie that you could come up with was that he’s your best friend visiting from the city. You told him that he works at the home office and that he comes over from time to time to work on another project with you.

After that day, Seungkwan stopped asking so many questions, leaving you alone to sit and read with Vernon on their porch.

“Do you want to have lunch with me and Mingyu?” you ask him. “He made enough that I know we would have leftovers otherwise.”

“My wife packs my lunch actually and she doesn’t like it when I come home with a full container.” He shrugs, taking out the cutely wrapped rilakkuma bento box from his satchel.

“What! That’s so cute, I bet you love her lunch boxes,” you giggle, marveling at how much care his wife had gone into packing him food for the day.

He rubs the back of his neck as he lets out a bashful laugh, his cheeks turning red at the mention of his wife.

“Well she’s the only one whose food tastes exactly like my mom’s, maybe I’ll bring her around so you can meet her!” Jun’s eyes shine as he talks about his wife, obviously, head over heels for her.

You find it endearing how much his demeanor changes from silly Jun to an in-love Jun. The tight feeling in your chest doesn’t subside as you watch how he goes on about her, and their cats Open, Close, and Lock. It makes you wonder if anyone would talk about you that way, even when you’re not there, or when it’s not some lie to tell to your neighbours and their friends.

“That’s so sweet Jun, what’s her name?” you ask, wondering if you could make a new friend out of her too.

“June!” he replies, his smile as bright as the afternoon sun.

“Her name is also June?” you try to get more clarification on her name.

As if Jun himself couldn’t get any weirder, he has three cats named Open, Close, and Lock, as well as a wife with the same name as him. You try to process all this information but you feel like it’s too early in the day to be thinking so hard.

“Yeah! I’m Jun without an E and she’s June with an E,” he answers proudly.

You leave the Jun lore for another time, instead asking him about other things going on in his life. He’s not as bad as you thought he would be, and you find that he’s actually very fun to talk to. Jun’s actions are always so animated, using his hands a lot while he’s talking. It seems like you’ve made another friend yet again.

As you two make your way to the kitchen, Mingyu can hear your laughter ring through his ears. Two sets of footsteps make their way over to him, he knows Jun is just here because it’s his job but can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy.

“Hey Jun,” Mingyu greets him flatly, not really into the fact that he’s the reason his wife is laughing so hard right now.

He has no right to feel jealous but he can’t help it, especially after the kiss you two shared the other day. The two of you haven’t gotten that intimate since that kiss in the kitchen and even though he wants it to happen again, it has to be on your terms. Even though he craves you with each waking hour, he wants to make sure he isn’t overstepping any boundaries.

“Jun is going to eat with us for lunch, is that okay?” You go up to him, placing a hand on his bicep before giving it a squeeze.

Mingyu’s cheeks flush at your small gesture of affection, his eyes moving from where your hand is placed to your eyes. Looking up at him with doe eyes, you smile at him. Even though he doesn’t like the idea of you and Jun laughing together, he could never say no to you.

“Yeah, of course,” he returns your smile and you whisper a small thank you before placing a kiss on his cheek, walking away to watch T.V. with Jun on the couch.

He stands at the stove, a pan of grilled chicken to pair with your salads. A hand comes up to touch the cheek that you kissed, he smiles to himself as he continues to cook lunch for you two.

It seems as though every day he spends with you, the harder he’s falling. He can’t help it, especially when you’re much more affectionate with him now.

He fantasizes about the day you decide to no longer sleep in separate rooms across the hall from each other, and getting to wake up to you and your beautiful face every morning. He watches you laugh with Jun in the living room and silently wishes that you’ll fall as hard as he has.

ten.

With every passing day, the more you worry about Seungcheol’s whereabouts. You’re safe here, and people are looking over you but you can’t help but be paranoid. You wonder if you’re going to have to live every day in fear. But thankfully, with Mingyu beside you, it becomes a little more bearable.

It wasn’t until today that you realized that you could finally breathe right. You awoke to another call from Jihoon, who seems to only call about important matters early in the morning. He suggests that you get Mingyu, wanting both of you to be on the call.

Your mind is spiraling. The last time Jihoon called he had given you bad news.

“What’s wrong Jihoon?” you ask him apprehensively, not sure if you’re mentally prepared to hear what he has to say.

Both you and Mingyu sat on the couch with bated breaths, waiting for him to say something. Anything. Mingyu has an arm around you, your legs on top of his as he holds you close. He didn’t even have to say anything, his silence was enough to indicate how nervous he was.

“Guys, don’t be so nervous, now I’m getting nervous!” he sighs.

“I can’t take this, just say it already, you’re killing me over here Ji,” Mingyu whines, squeezing you a little tighter to soothe his nerves.

“Well, we found him. Jun was able to put him in custody and he’s been at the station for a couple of hours now,” he finally reveals, hearing the two of you squeal like a bunch of school girls over the speakers. “I know you don’t want to see him Y/n, but if you want you can come down and talk to him. Closure and shit.”

Mingyu looks over at you the moment Jihoon mentions you visiting your ex, and he can practically see the gears turning in your head. To be honest, you’re not sure if you’re ready to face him, but a part of you is curious about what he’s like now.

“Okay, I’ll visit him, but only if Mingyu comes with me,” you mutter, playing with the hem of Mingyu’s shirt absentmindedly.

You think of all the scenarios that could play out the moment you meet with Seungcheol again, but you know that if you want to shed the rest of your old self. You need to finally face him and gain the closure you deserve.

And the closure that Seungcheol deserves too.

…

For the rest of the day, you and Mingyu have a little self-care night before your confrontation with Seungcheol. Your nerves are at an all-time high, even Norbert could tell you were anxious; constantly staying by your side, even when you were showering, working, or eating.

You weren’t sure what you were going to say to Seungcheol when you see him, or how you’re going to even feel. It’s been years since you’ve faced him, you just know that if Mingyu is there everything will be alright.

For some reason, Mingyu’s presence always calms you down. His comforting words and strong demeanor help you stay afloat in your deep sea of worries. Just like Norbert, you don’t think he realizes these past few months with him have helped you overcome a lot of your paranoia. The more you got to know him, the more you recognized how soft and loving he really is, despite his past.

“You have to stay still, okay?” you mumble as you continue to slather the face mask all over Mingyu’s skin.

Sat on top of the bathroom counter, Mingyu stood between your legs as you concentrated on the task at hand. His own hands placed on the tops of your thighs as he waited patiently for you to finish.

When he proposed a self-care night, you didn’t think he’d agree to go as far as doing skin care with you. Obviously, you were very wrong, and it kind of warms your heart that he’s willing to do even something as silly as this and then watch Bluey with you on the couch.

“Y/n, it tickles,” he whines, hands gripping harder on your thighs as he fights the urge to laugh.

“Do not laugh! You’ll ruin it,” you try not to giggle, your own face mask starting to crack.

“Okay, sorry but you look so silly right now,” he chuckles, his eyes trained on you.

Even with your hair tied up and a fluffy bunny-ear face wash headband, he still finds you beautiful. It doesn't matter to him what you look like, just the fact that you’re here, with him, it’s all he needs to be happy.

“Done!” you flash a proud smile before hopping off the counter.

Before you can leave the bathroom, Mingyu grabs your wrist and turns you around till you're flush with his chest. You raise an eyebrow at him, unsure of what he’s plotting right now. Instead of saying anything more he just places a peck on your lips before whispering a small “thank you”, letting you two carry on with your night.

You just laugh and shake your head at him before heading over to the couch to watch more episodes of Bluey. Norbert claims his rightful spot beside you while Mingyu sits on your other side.

Tomorrow may be scary and you have a lot of thoughts running through your head, but spending the night peacefully with Mingyu and Norbert silences your worries enough to relax in the meantime. What you don’t expect is the constant thought of wondering if this is what your life would be like every day if you decide to stay in Bridgewater after the year is over.

eleven.

The car ride to the police station is quiet. Mingyu’s hand is in yours as he tries to console your overthinking. There isn’t much he can say to help you at this moment, but the least he can do is show you that he’s here. He doesn’t want to say anything that could potentially overwhelm you, he just wants to show you how much he cares.

By the time the car reaches the station, your palms are drenched in sweat, but you want to stay strong. You want Seungcheol to know how happy you are now, without him. You want him to see how different you are now after all these years, how you’re better off without his tainted love.

“Y/n, Mingyu,” Jihoon greets you at the door, nodding to you.

The ever so stoic Jihoon. He’s a man of very few words but you could tell that he was rooting for you.

The walk over to where Seungcheol was being interrogated felt longer than normal, but in reality, it only took a few seconds to reach the door. Jihoon gives you a look before opening the door, one that’s silently asking you if you’re sure. You only nod with a determined gleam in your eyes, allowing him to unlock the door and letting you see your ex after so many years.

His black hair looks the same it did all that time ago, except it was longer now and a little messy from him running his fingers through it. You could tell he was exhausted, and it broke your heart a little.

There are feelings of anger resurfacing the moment your eyes lock with his, but also feelings of sorrow and pity. You’re reminded of all the memories you made with him, the happiness, the sadness, and the solace in between. But you grieved the loss of your love with him a long time ago, and even though there are fragments of those feelings now, it doesn’t hurt as much as it used to.

“Y/n,” Seungcheol’s voice cracks upon seeing you.

Your chest burns and it feels like all the air in your lungs has dissipated. There’s a dullness to his gaze, almost like he’s a mere shell of the person he used to be. You should’ve known that Seungcheol lost his soul all those years ago when he decided to sell it for never-ending wealth. But here he is, in front of you: defeated, tired, heartbroken. There’s a small part of you that will always care for him, yet you know that you’ll never love him the way you used to.

“Cheol,” you whisper, your back against the door, your body not wanting to get any closer to him than you have to.

“Y/n, please I never wanted us to end up this way, please. Please,” he tries to beg, to stand up, but his hands are handcuffed to the table. His wrists have turned red from trying to escape from his chains. It’s no use, he won’t ever be able to get as close as he is now.

A single tear falls from your eyes watching his desperate attempts to reach you. But the room feels far too big now like the two of you are miles apart. So you stay put and tell him what you’ve been wanting to say after so many years.

“You dug your own grave, Seungcheol. I tried, I did. But how could you keep all that information from me? Selling illegal weapons may be one thing, but involving all those innocent people? Did you lose your damn mind? I couldn’t live with myself knowing how many people you hurt. Then you turned to drug trafficking? Did you really think I could marry someone like that?” you raise your voice at the end.

Your chest is heaving from not taking a single breath to stop, to think, just saying whatever your heart is telling you to say.

“Y/n, please! Hear me out, I want to make it work-” he begs and begs, but you cut him off.

“There’s nothing to work out.”

“I just wanted to have a secure future with you, I was going to quit after our wedding, please you have to believe me,” he keeps going, but you don’t want to hear it anymore.

You scoff at his attempt to justify his actions, but you know better. The man in front of you will say anything to get you back into his life, but you don’t buy his bullshit. The more money he earned, the greedier he got, and the higher his ambitions got, he wasn't the man he was when you first met him. The constant reminder of him leading a dark path keeps you grounded.

“You lost me the moment you decided to hurt people who don’t deserve it.” Your voice is stern, you don’t want to continue to drag this out knowing all he’s going to do is plead for you to come back to him.

“Y/n please, I can’t live without you, even after all these years, I can’t sleep, nothing. I need you.” The tears begin to leave his eyes, but you do your best to stay strong.

All you can do is shake your head at him, his words going through one ear and out the other. His sobs and pleading shake you to your core, but it doesn’t hurt to hear after knowing all the evil things he’s done.

“But I don’t need you, I’m happy, I’m in love again. I have friends that care about me,” you countered.

You're breathing heavily, trying to stay as calm as possible. You had no more tears left to shed for him.

“It’s Mingyu isn’t it?” he asks, but you don’t give him any indication that his prediction is correct.

Your heartbeat picks up at the mention of Mingyu’s name, and you’re not sure how Seungcheol found out about the two of you. At this point you don’t even care, because the happiness you deserve is waiting for you outside the very door you stand against. No one will get in the way of the reason why you’re able to breathe right again, especially not Seungcheol.

“That doesn't matter,” you defended, not wanting to speak to him for any longer.

“But it does. Just tell me it’s not Mingyu, anyone but him please,” he continues to cry, the rattling of his handcuffs burning your eardrums.

You’ve gotten your closure, the figurative shackles that Seungcheol had you in are finally broken. There’s a sense of relief to being able to face him without completely breaking down. Your heart no longer belongs to him, and neither do your fearful thoughts.

“I don’t owe you anything anymore Seungcheol. Goodbye.” You end the conversation, turning around to close the door without looking back.

His pleading can be heard through the metal, but you don’t dare turn back, you don’t dare to let him have his hold on you anymore. Closing the door of the interrogation room felt like closing the door to a chapter of life. And finally, after everything that has happened, you feel free.

“You’re in love with me?” Mingyu’s voice is heard through all the commotion.

He stands there with a hopeful look in his eyes, a small smile dancing along his lips. You roll your eyes at him as if it wasn’t already obvious how much you care for your fake husband.

Walking up to him, you engulf him in a tight hug, your head buried in his chest as tears of relief leave your eyes.

“Of course I’m in love with you, you big idiot,” you laugh, holding him tighter, so tight that you’re sure that he’ll never leave your side, even if he wanted to.

twelve.

The drive back to the house felt like a breath of fresh air. Wind blowing through your hair with the windows rolled down, Mingyu’s hand on your thigh, music blasting through the speakers. It felt like freedom.

“Can I hear you say it again?” Mingyu turns to you while he’s stopped at a red light, his puppy-dog eyes are too cute to resist.

“I love you,” you smile at him, placing your hand on top of his.

The glistening in his eyes looked like it came straight out of a movie, they glittered in the sunlight, a reflection of his very being.

“I love you too, did you know that?” he blushes, giving you a sweet kiss before returning his attention to the road.

The two of you stay quiet for the rest of that way back, savouring the sweet moment. You still can’t wrap your head around everything that has happened during your stay at Bridgewater, especially because you’ve somehow found love again. A love that’s sweet, one that doesn’t feel as worrisome.

“Home sweet home!” Mingyu announces the moment the car rolls into the driveway.

You’re brought out of your thoughts and Mingyu gets out to open the door for you. The second the door closes he cages you between him and the side of the car. His lips softly hit yours and you moan out of surprise. The kiss is slow and sweet, and butterflies erupt in your stomach immediately.

You haven’t kissed him properly since that day in the kitchen but you don’t mind the wait. If anything it causes you to feel hungry for more. Mingyu’s hands on your waist are pulling you tighter with each passing second, but making out in the middle of your driveway, where everyone in the neighbourhood can see, pulls you out of your lustful thoughts.

“Let’s go inside?” You detach your lips from his, grabbing his hand and practically dragging him towards the front door.

Once you two are inside, without any potential prying eyes you pull him back into a kiss. It’s sloppy and filled with more passion than the previous times you two were this close. You don’t want to stop feeling him against you. The firm grip he has on your waist travels under your shirt, his hands against your bare skin leaving a burning sensation in the best way.

There’s a silent agreement between the two of you. You both know where this is heading but no one stops to take a break, to tell the other that it is time to let go. You continue to deepen the kiss, letting your tongue glide against his, your fingers running through his hair. It's addicting, Mingyu��s lips are intoxicating and all you want is to get lost in the arousal.

“I wanna make you feel good, so good till all you can remember is me, no one else,” Mingyu mumbles against your neck, his lips trailing lower as you whimper in approval. “Tell me, is that what you want?”

“Yes,” you whimper, eyes closed as you feel him lick and suck the skin on your collarbone.

Backing away, you can see how the love and adoration in his eyes are tainted with hunger. The sight of him makes your stomach flip, there’s a darkness to his gaze and you gulp silently. Waiting for him to show you how badly he wants to fuck you, how badly he needs to see you whimper and moan for him.

Without another word you bring him to your room, closing the door behind you so Norbert can’t interrupt like he did last time.

The door is against your back once again and Mingyu towers over you, caging you with his body. His scent fills your senses, your knees going weak as he continues to stare at you with those hooded lids, his attention on you and you only.

His hand trails against your jaw till he stops at your chin, tilting your face up so that your eyes are leveled with his. He licks his lips as he watches you, wanting nothing but to take you then and there. But he has so much planned, he can’t get too hasty, especially because the thought of you cumming for him over and over continues to plague his mind.

“I want you to sit on the bed, and to be a good girl and take what I give you,” Mingyu mutters, his hand moving closer to your lips till his thumb pulls your bottom lip down.

You don’t argue, moving away once again to do what he says. This is the Mingyu you used to know. The one who spent half his life in the mafia, the one who could command a whole room with a single word.

Following behind you, he waits till you get comfortable on the bed before sitting down between your already spread legs. He captures you into a kiss once more, letting himself savour the taste of you. Your hands move across the expanse of his back, slowly lifting his shirt along the way and feeling his large muscles tense under your gentle fingers.

“Fuck me, please,” you beg him, and your voice is strained, the words leaving your mouth in whimpers.

Mingyu chuckles at your desperation as he removes the rest of his clothing, but your mind is buzzing like crazy. It’s been so long since you’ve been intimate with someone that you forgot how good it feels to be held, to be kissed.

“Be patient baby, we’ll get to that eventually,” he grunts, lifting your shirt and removing the remainder of your clothes till you're bare.

Marveling at your naked figure, Mingyu forces himself to stop drooling over how sexy you look in front of him. You’re so small compared to him, his large hands opening up your thighs to reveal your awaiting arousal.

“You’re already fucking soaking,” he mutters as he prods with your folds. His fingers move gingerly as he teases you.

His arms push your thighs till they’re flush with your stomach, giving him clear access to where you need him most. Trailing kisses along your inner thighs, your head hits the pillow as you moan out for him. You’re over-sensitive from not being touched by another person in so long, his lips leaving burning sensations on your skin.

Your pussy is dripping on the sheets the moment he presses a kiss to your clit. Clenching around nothing, you continue to moan out his name, and it makes him smile against you. Hearing you call out for him is like music to his ears, your voice sweet like honey.

“Keep doing that, please Mingyu,” you whine, your hands coiling around the strands of his hair, nails raking his scalp.

Groaning against your mound, he continues to play with your clit. Licking and sucking it while his fingers enter your weeping hole. The sounds of his long digits moving in and out of you fill the room, and you can feel yourself getting closer to an orgasm.

“Fuck, it’s so good,” you praise him, and it strokes his ego, his movements picking up in pace.

The squelching noises only increase in volume, his fingers hitting that soft spot inside you that makes your legs shake and your vision goes white. Practically screaming his name, the coil in your stomach snaps and you cum against his mouth. His tongue moved against your slit to drink up your juices, wanting to feel you fill his mouth with your sweet nectar.

His eyes remain trained on yours while he’s lying between your legs, you run your hands through his hair as you come down from your high. The words can’t seem to leave your lips and your mind is filled with euphoria. If he can do all that with just his mouth and fingers you wonder what will happen when he’s finally inside you.

“God, you’re so needy. Probably haven’t been fucked properly in so long, huh baby?” he coos as he moves up your body, lips against your ear as he continues to mutter dirty words.

“Need someone to take care of you? Is that what you need? Need your husband to fuck a baby into you,” he keeps going and your eyes roll back and he fondles your tits.

“Yeah, you like that?” he chuckles, twisting at your hardened nipples as your pussy clenches at the thought of being filled with his cum.

“You like it when I talk about fucking you till that tight little cunt of yours is stuffed full of my cum?” Mingyu’s mouth continues to spew words of breeding you, and his growing erection is harder to ignore.

“I want it so bad, want you to fuck a baby in me, Gyu,” you sigh, your salacious moans bouncing off the walls as he flips you around.

Ass in the air, he gives the supple skin a sharp slap and you shriek. But it feels so good, the sting of his large palm hitting you hard. He can see how much you’re enjoying it, kneading your full mounds as his head fills with thoughts of fucking you in this position.

“Please just fuck me already, I wanna feel you inside me.” You’re weeping now, face smushed into the pillow.

“You sure you’re ready?” he asks you, pulling you by your hips till your back is arched.

The neediness inside you is at its highest point, and you can’t seem to form any words as you feel his fingers glide against your soaked hole. Moans can’t stop leaving your lips and you’re already sensitive from your first orgasm.

Placing a pillow under your stomach, he continues to manhandle you into the position he wants you in. Face down, ass up, your legs are spread, and your wet entrance is all ready for him. Mingyu grabs his hard cock, stroking it a few times before spitting on your cunt, and you jolt at the hot liquid hitting your folds.

“Fuck, you’re tight, I should’ve prepped you more,” Mingyu groans, his length slowly forcing its way past your entrance.

The air is knocked out of your lungs as you feel him starting to fill you. The stretch is agonizing but the burn sends tingles of pleasure up your spine. It felt so fucking good having him inside you like this, your mind full of nothing but the shape of his cock.

“I want it hard, fuck me hard,” you tell him, your voice shaking as he continues to enter you.

“Okay baby, but just know I won’t be gentle anymore,” he warns you and maybe you shouldn’t have been so eager, but that primal part in you just wanted him so bad.

Once he has himself fully sheathed in your heat, he pulls back until only the tip is left. You gasp at the sudden empty feeling, but you're quickly silenced when he dives back in. His hips slapping against your ass, his balls hitting your clit. Mingyu’s stamina is insanely high as he continues to thrust in and out of you.

“Fuck, you’re so big, I-I can’t!” you cry out, your screams picking up in pitch till you're moaning like a porn star.

“So fucking tight, baby you’re driving me crazy,” Mingyu continues to grunt, his movements not slowing down for even a second.

His hands move to grip your hips tightly, he stops for a split second to stop his thrusts. You thought you were going to be able to catch your breath. But he just keeps surprising you. The hands that he placed on your hips tighten and he moves you up and down on his cock while he stays still. Using you like his personal sex doll, but fuck, it felt amazing. You love that he’s using you, placing your body in whatever position he wants to chase his own pleasure.

“You’re so perfect, I could fuck this pussy till I’m empty,” he mutters, watching his dick disappear inside you.

There's a white ring of arousal around the base of his length, and his mind goes blank. All he can do is continue to bounce you up and down his member till he can feel himself start to twitch inside you.

“I’m gonna cum, baby you feel so good inside me,” you scream for him, loving the way the ridges of your walls continue to suck him up, your orgasm hitting you once again,

There's something so nasty about him using your body, and you’re enjoying all of it. You love how he’s just taking what he wants, yet he still knows how to make you cum. Your pussy is swollen from the beating it’s taking, but you want more. You want him to keep going till he has nothing left to give you.

The feeling of Mingyu twitching inside your walls indicates that he’s close, and you continue to clench around him. Wanting to milk him of his seed, wanting to feel his cum hit your cervix and breed you.

“Gonna cum inside you, okay baby?” he warns you before stilling his movements.

His cock twitches again till you feel his hot white cum spurt inside your walls, flooding your cunt with his seed. Mingyu groans, watching the liquid fill you and breach past your tight hole till it gushes out. The sight is so unholy, so sinful but he can’t just stop there. No, he won’t stop till you’re stuffed properly.

“M-mingyu, baby,” you whine, your body flopping onto the mattress as he lets you go.

Your legs turn to jelly as you shake from how hard you came, your breathing labored. He turns you around so you're splayed out for him, prying your legs open to watch his cum fall out of your pussy in thick globs. It’s so mesmerizing, hypnotizing, he wants to see more of it. To fill you with more of his seed.

“We’re not done,” he smiles as you cheekily and you laugh.

“You want more after all of that?” you question him, your breathing still harsh from the previous round.

“Baby, after all of that, I don’t think I can stop,” he mutters against your lips, and you nod, agreeing with his statement.

He switches your positions, his back against the headboard while you sit on his lap. The refractory period doesn't seem to exist with Mingyu because his erection is standing proudly in front of you.

“You wanna go again?” he asks you, one hand on your hip as the other rubs his cock as it glistens with a mixture of both of your arousals.

“I want you to use me till you can’t anymore,” you lean over, whispering in his ear.

“Careful, you might regret that later,” he mutters, a hand around your neck as he halts your movements.

Pulling him into a heated kiss, you position his length against your entrance, lifting your body till you can fully sink down on him. Even after the first round, your pussy still can’t get used to the stretch that his cock gives you. It's a delicious feeling, his length is so long and thick you can feel it in your stomach.

“Ah!” you cry out, your head thrown back as you stabilize yourself by holding onto his shoulders.

Mingyu moans back, mesmerized by the view of your tits bouncing up and down in front of his face. His cock disappeared inside you once more, the sight making him feral, hungry to see you filled to the brim with his semen.

Your orgasm comes around faster this time and your walls convulse around him once more. The heat, the wetness, the silky feeling of your cunt makes Mingyu go delirious, thoughts only filled with you and you only. Stilling your hips, his own high follows yours shortly after, his cum hitting your insides till it covers his softening member all over again.

You let out a puff of breath, leaning into his chest as your face rested in the crook of his neck. Mingyu rubs your back soothingly, his dick going soft and falling out of your entrance. Whimpering at the loss of him being inside you, you hold him tighter. The feelings of exhaustion are finally catching up to you, but you know you’ll have to clean up soon enough.

“You know I love you, right?” he reminds you as he lifts you up and off the bed to head to the shower. You can only nod, your mind and body too tired to respond.

Setting you on the counter, his back turns away from you while he prepares your bath, getting the water warm for you. You notice the large dragon tattoo that coils along his skin. It surprises you that you haven’t noticed it before, but the black ink on him is undeniably sexy.

Once the water is warm enough, he carries you to the shower before cleaning you up properly. You love that he’s back to his soft and kind self, and it makes you fall for him even harder. The hard sex was so good but what’s important to you is the fact that he’s so keen on taking care of you after.

Mingyu’s hand snakes around your waist as your head lays against his shoulder, pressing lazy kisses while you whisper words of gratitude.

“Thank you, I love you too,” you mumble, adorning him with pecks along his warm tan skin.

epilogue.

“This whole fucking time,” Seungkwan stares at you with wide eyes, “I fucking KNEW it.”

You scoff at him, he just had to be right about everything and it annoys you, but here you are again, in his home for drinks and dessert.

“Sure you did, Kwannie,” you sigh, patting his shoulder.

“I swear I did! Right, babe? They were suspicious from the start,” he continues to argue, roping in Vernon who gives him a shrug of his shoulders before returning his attention to his phone.

It was time for you and Mingyu to break the news about your fake relationship with everyone. You felt bad for deceiving people, and now that you two were actually in love, it just felt right to put the fake marriage thing in the past.

“Please, we weren’t that obvious,” you defend, not wanting to give Seungkwan the bragging rights to actually be right this whole time.

Seungkwan just rolls his eyes at you before taking a sip of his wine. He didn’t feel like arguing with you anymore, he’s just happy that his suspicions have been correct this whole time.

“Does this mean you’re going to leave soon?” He looks at you with desperate eyes, taking your hands in his.

“Well, we’ve talked about it, and Mingyu and I have decided to stay,” you smile at him from where he sits across the room, talking about something unimportant with Jeonghan and Val. “So don’t worry, I’ll still be your neighbour. Bridgewater actually seems like the perfect place for us right now.”

“Oh thank god! I don’t think I could live happily ever again if you moved away, Y/nie.” He pulls you into a hug, and you can’t help but laugh at his dramatics.

Seungkwan may have started as a pestering neighbour, but you can’t help but feel grateful towards him. If it weren’t for his annoying attitude, you and Mingyu probably wouldn’t have tried so hard to pretend to be in love. You could say that Seungkwan was one the biggest reasons why you and Mingyu fell so hard for each other in the first place.

…

A few days after solidifying your relationship with Mingyu, you two decided that it wouldn’t be too bad to stay here after all. Seungcheol was sentenced guilty during trial and Jihoon informed you that there's no more reason for you to be put into witness protection. Everything just seemed like it was all falling into place, and you’re happier than you have been in so long.

Even Norbert has finally warmed up to Mingyu. Sometimes when your work day is over, you’ll spot them cuddling on the couch and watching Bluey together. He always talks to Norbert, asking him questions even though the cat can’t answer. It warms your heart knowing that the two beings that healed you from a world’s worth of hurt can get along. They both came into your life when you needed it most, and every day you're thankful that you’re surrounded by so much love.

“Watching Bluey without me?” you ask out loud, your arms crossed as you pretend to be mad.

“Baby! You’re done!” Mingyu practically flies off the couch to capture you in a bone-crushing hug.

“You know you can come into my office when I’m working,” you laugh as you rub his back, savouring the feeling of his large and muscular arms holding you.

“I know but I don’t want to distract you, even Norbert doesn't go in,” he mumbles, inhaling your scent as if he didn’t wake up beside you that very morning.

“You’re silly, Mingyu,” you laugh, kissing his cheek.

He blushes like a schoolgirl before giving you the biggest grin known to man. His eyes sparkling against the living room lighting, you can tell he’s head over heels for you. Mingyu isn’t afraid to show affection or to be vulnerable, he just wants to be with you, no matter how good or bad things get.

“Can’t I just be happy my wife is off work?” He sighs lovingly, brushing your hair through his fingers, refusing to let you go.

You roll your eyes at how cheesy he is, but he knows that you secretly love it. Especially since you act the same way with him whenever he goes out to run errands or when he tends to the garden.

“Your wife is hungry and tired, can we make more kimchi pancakes please?” you ask with puppy dog eyes.

Mingyu laughs at you before kissing your forehead, “Anything for the love of my life.”

Blushing at his words, you follow him into the kitchen to make the kimchi pancakes you had asked for. Putting on his pink ruffle apron, he gets down to business, always wanting to cook the best food for you.

Mingyu is satisfied knowing that he’s able to give you the life that you deserve. To love you on sunny days and even on rainy days. He’s never felt a love that was this secure, and he’s grateful that you feel the same way.

As you watch Mingyu cook, you think back to the first day you moved to Bridgewater. You misjudged him that first day and you’re so glad that he proved you wrong. He has been nothing but amazing since then. He’s patient, and kind, and he loves you even when you’re irritated or in a bad mood. For someone who used to be a part of the mafia, you would expect him to be rough around the edges, and intimidating, but he’s the complete opposite. He’s the perfect house husband.

end.

𖥔 a/n: you've reached the end of my hubbygyu fic! thank you for reading and please leave an ask or comment if you've enjoyed this story :)! but wait... there's more! this story will become a series that takes inspiration from the anime ( the way of the house husband) so please look forward to seeing more of wifey y/n and hubby gyu! thank you again ♡.

#mingyu #kim mingyu #svthub #mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #seventeen fic #seventeen #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #svt fic #svt smut #svt x reader #wonustars ✧ ﾟ. {works}

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bugboi01 · 4 days ago

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The Family Omega

batfam x gn! reader imagine

Tw for grooming, sexual coercion, incest, some underage (Damian is 14 and not included in the sexual stuff but Tim and Reader are both 17)

Being a family full of alphas and betas is tough, especially during rut season. While Alfred and Dick did their best to help mediate any fights, the whole family was hoping Damian would be an omega despite the boy's feisty nature. Unfortunately for everyone, Damian woke up on his 14th birthday snarling and acting territorial over his room.

That's where you come in. Maybe you're a friend of Damian's from school, or you work as an intern for WE. Either way, you've piqued the family's interest, and they're desperate enough to make you theirs.

It would start off small, like offering to let you stay the night after a fight with your parents or lending you a jacket covered in one of the alphas' scents. You probably won't even notice how close you've gotten with the family until it's too late. All it takes is one spiked drink or drugged meal for you to go into an early heat.

Bruce would be first as the head of the family. If you try to struggle or protest, he'll simply coo at how cute you are before fucking you mercilessly until he knots your needy hole.

Dick would be next, eagerly eating you out and tasting his father's cum still dripping out of your hole. As a beta, Dick doesn't feel the overwhelming urge to mate with you, so he focuses on making you cum as many times as he can until your omega brain is turned to mush (though he'll definitely fuck you later).

Duke will get his turn after just coming off of patrol. He'll lazily thrust into you until he knots, whispering praises all the while.

Youll get a small break with Damian as the younger alpha will be more focused on scenting you and making sure your nest is up to his standards. You'll get some water and your favorite food from Alfred before it's back to being bred.

Jason is probably the most rough out of all the batboys, but he doesn't mean to be. He just loves the feeling of you so much that he can't help but lose control a little. He'd definitely have some sort of mommy/daddy kink. Will suck on your nipples while he waits for his knot to go down.

Finally, Tim. Tim is either really fucking energetic or a bit more tired and subdued like Duke depending on how much sleep he's had. If he's bored from working on a case or as ceo, he'll get all his energy out on you. If he's tired from patrol or staying up, he's more relaxed, maybe even making you ride him. I also think he rambles during sex, maybe about how good you feel or maybe just whatever hyperfixation he has at the moment.

(Omg that was a doozy. First time writing on tumblr btw! Feel free to leave requests if you want more or constructive criticism in my asks!)

#yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #batman x reader #batfam #yandere tim drake #yandere damian wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere duke thomas #one shot #reader insert #smut #gn reader

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erosiism · 6 months ago

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GENSHIN MEN AND…

prompt: HOW THEY WOULD REACT IF YOU SACRIFICED YOUR LIFE FOR THEM

character(s): diluc, zhongli [part one] childe, ayato [part two, out]

warnings(s): angst ofc—mention of blood, my first post on tumblr so my writing style may be a little icky, inaccuracies since I haven’t looked up genshin lore for a hot minute

note(s): male reader, second person, present tense, not beta read

DILUC

There’s a lot of things you haven’t told him yet. Things you wished you had told him—but everything’s fine, because in this single action you are willing to do for him—your feelings will come inevitably with it and it’s a torrent of emotions that you’re about to burden him with.

He’s been your childhood friend for seventeen years now. All those times you have seen him, smiling, his merry laughter carrying over the breeze, his lips purple from sampling grapes, to the time where that very laughter and smiles disappear to smoothen into a stone face. After the death of his father, Diluc has become reserved, cold, and rather distant. Bitter.

You two were close, once.

You two had a bond that many could not quite interpret— it was as clear as day that you both trusted each other fully, but each always had secrets to hide. Some say proximity is the reason why both of you got close — your manors were near to each other, but truthfully, it was as simple as it was: you two had the same social standing. Both you and Diluc were, for each of their families, supposed to be close for the sake of future alliances and unions, but the friendship soon turned genuine, only for it to crumble under the weight of guilt and grief.

Only for it to crumble on the day Crepus died.

You still remember it vividly; in all its sickening, gruesome, heart wrenching detail. You were fortunate enough not to witness it, but etched in your memory, all you can think of is Diluc’s ravaged expression when he trembled before his father’s corpse.

You were helpless then. You could have extended an arm, you could have done something.

You didn’t.

But now would be different. You know the archons have it in for him when the incident happens the same way it happened with his father: via a carriage incident.

You laugh then at its bitter irony.

Bandits come, a whole load of them, and this time Diluc fights while you are there helpless once again, trembling when you hear the clash of swords and arrows. When you hear his claymore smash against flesh. You don’t have a vision. Diluc has. You don’t have any particular skill in handling a sword; Jean has tried to teach you once, but it has failed. Your brain may be quick and witty, but your steps aren’t.

The bandits have delusions. The archons really are cruel.

You see it before he does. There’s a burst of electric power that he's battling, the elementals clashing with each other—you’re still lagging behind, barely missing the whizzing arrows that skim your flesh, your heart wrenching as you see Diluc’s pained expression. You know what he’s thinking of, and it isn’t you. His memories are reverting back to his father’s death. His birthday. And perhaps that’s why his usual sharpness is wearied down.

You see the sword about to plunge his back before he does.

You scream to tell him.

Your body moves before anything.

Your fingers fumble to clasp the fabric of your clothes, before you tug him out of the way. You feel the weight of a sword against your back; you feel the way it slices through your skin before it presses against your flesh. You taste blood on your tongue, before a myriad of colors burst out; crimson, carmine. All the shades of red. You wobble then, choking out blood, before you stumble. You hear a few slices; razor, swift sharp ones. Then the last of the assailants falls down, and you are made aware that your decision has been the right one.

Diluc has survived.

You stumble. You feel your body hit the ground. Murkiness runs your vision.

“[Name],” you hear a soft, whispering voice carry to your ears. You try your best to cling onto the words. But pain is burning within you—it’s ironic, how they feel more scorching than Diluc’s flames have ever felt. You try your best to swallow down your pants and your pained noises, but it ends up slipping from your mouth in broken, mottled syllables.

Your blurry vision makes out a face.

He cannot be Diluc. He’s crying. And the last time you have seen Duluc cry is when—

Oh.

“Don’t cry,” you say weakly. “Don’t cry, Diluc. I’m sorry I wasn’t of much help.” You try to reach out to his cheek. You regret it a split second afterwards because blood stains his cheeks wet from tears. You end up smearing red all over his face.

“Why?” Diluc says, and it sounds guttural, like the words have been punched out from him. “Why, [Name]?” You hear a flurry of footsteps behind. You assume it’s some surviving witness who has gone to call for backup. But you doubt you’ll survive.

You don’t even know why. To begin with, you aren’t even sure if you are in love with him. The swirling butterflies that flutter about when you see him tells him you are, but society’s expectations push those down. You have been in love with him for as long as you can remember; you have loved him. You have annotated every inch of him down to your memory, every contour, every bit. In your dreams he visits you, smiling sweetly. And you try to remember him when you wake up, trying to pretend that he’s still there, that he’s no longer bitter.

“I don’t know.” Your words come out broken, punctuated by the gurgling of blood from your windpipe.

It’s a half truth. You love him. You don’t know if you do.

“I’m sorry.”

Diluc is sobbing now. It’s uncharacteristic of him. You are brought back to the night when you saw him break down in front of his father’s corpse. And you aren’t yet a corpse: your heart is still beating faintly, your lips are still moving, your body is still trembling. “There’s a lot of things I wanted to tell you, Diluc.”

“Don’t die,” he pleads fervently. His lips graze your forehead, then—and before you know it, he’s embracing you, his tears wetting your shoulder. His begging is childish. Does he not know that the Archons have long abandoned their people? Does he know the sky is empty, and that no amount of pleads can bring a person back to life? You doubt so. “Don’t die, [Name]. I love you.”

He loves you. You smile. He loves you. Words have never felt so sweet befor, and it curbs the bitterness of death upon your tongue. “I love you, [Name]. I love you, so don’t die.”

He loves his father too. But still his father had perished. Similar to you.

“I’m so happy to hear that,” you smile weakly. Your finger starts to fall. “I’m really happy to hear that.”

You don’t have enough time to say those three words back, but it’s fine.

Your actions already did.

ZHONGLI

note(s); reader is an adepti, takes place during archon war

A God has seen their fair share of grieving. So have Adepti. Some come with age—it’s normal for mortal alliances to die before those who are immortal, after all. There is also the Archon War, which has already torn away Zhongli’s beloved companion, Guizhong. And everyday he chokes down the bile in his throat and continues to annihilate and fight. He’s always been built for this, after all, he’s an Archon. He’s a ruthless one at that, known for his brutality and his power. And everyday he looks at you and can only pray again and again to Celestia, that you remain alive.

Guizhong and you have both been his favorites since you two have met. It was Guizhong and you first, before Zhongli met you. Both you and Guizhong were best friends; almost; like sisters and brothers. Guizhong was gentle and sweet, reprimanding at times. You were sweet too, but could be more uncouth. Strong language littered your sentences at times, and Zhongli would see it then; the way Guizhong tugged at you to scold you, or the way you would smile at her. Brother and sister.

Naturally, when Zhongli grew close to Guizhong, he grew close to you. It was funny to see that you hardly knew much about history, though Guizhong clearly loved it. And so it was almost a cycle. Whatever Guizhong taught Zhongli, he taught you. Guizhong had remarked a few times, what an incredible person he was to make even you listen to facts you had earlier called boring.

(“You mellowed a lot, Morax,” Guizhong had told him once. “[Name] mellowed you. You really do care alot for him, don’t you?”

“I suppose.”)

Gods aren’t meant to be mellowed. They are meant to be powerful. Strong enough emotionally so as to not bat an eye when it comes to deaths.

But everything falls apart when Guizhong dies.

He sees you fall to the ground, sobbing and sobbing and crying at the loss of your beloved sister. He sees the way you touch her statue, turned to stone, cradling her face and wishing you were touching soft skin, instead of cold stone. Not sister by blood, but sister in name. He sees the way you break apart after that; Zhongli feels a human sense of emptiness and pain that comes with her death.

It’s all right, he told himself repeatedly. In his grief he has started to flood himself with reassurances. I still have [Name]. I still have [Name]. I still have [Name].

He sees the way you lose yourself in battle after that. Your attacks become sloppy, you become more careless. You become more injured. Zhongli never bothered with your skill. You were talented and strong enough. But now he finds himself protecting you the times you stumble, the times you start to choke out sobs during battle, the times you go wild and bloodthirsty against those you assume have contributed to her death.

Guizhong has said once that he loved you. Zhongli never bothered to think about that. He assumed he would know it himself, when time came. He didn’t need to worry about being in what mortals called a relationship—he would get this war finished with you, become a mortal, and love you freely. It didn’t matter if you didn’t love him. Zhongli could love you at a safe distance. It would all be all right.

He never imagined your declaration of love towards him would come so easily and devastatingly.

Zhongli sees you struck by a burst of elemental power before anything. He sees the way you shoved him inside; he sees the irony. He was so preoccupied with watching you. He hadn’t seen the enemy crawl up to him or nearly kill him. Like how he was watching you, you were watching him. And now his care has killed you.

“[Name].”

There’s an avalanche of emotions. First, he’s furious. He will leach out the killer and will inflict a thousand times more pain on them. Second, he’s heartbroken. He’s terrified of losing you. He can feel your life ebbing away with each passing moment, and he has seen enough wounds to know no healer can save you. He feels your pulse thrumming beneath your skin and he knows you’re dying.

You smile. It looks more like a grimace. “Just survive this goddamn war.”

Zhongli isn’t sure if he will. He feels like he might kill himself, that he might lay his body down next to yours, so that after death your souls would be intermingled, of sorts. It sounds romantic, but there’s absolutely nothing romantic about your death. He does what the Gods are not supposed to do. He feeds into his humanity; he cries.

“Afterwards, just live as a human. I don’t know. Be a dusty collector of antiques. Be a funeral planner or something strange like that. Just live, okay? You look like you want to die.”

You continue to ramble on. Your sentences become connected with each other. Your eyes start to flutter. Your words become faint and faltering.

“I can’t live with you,” he whispers. “First Guizhong, then you…” it’s all his fault. He should have seen it. He should have been more aware. He should—he should…

It’s too late. You’re dead, and he mourns just like a human; sobbing, aching, and dying a little inside.

For a brief moment Zhongli isn’t a God.

hope everyone liked it! it’s my first post so im apprehensive haha be sure to like/reblog & leave a comment if u can

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #male reader #angst #hurt/no comfort #male #zhongli x reader #diluc x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x male #genshin impact scenarios #first post #idk how to tag #Zhongli #Diluc #eroswrites

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nezuscribe · 11 months ago

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𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you have everything you could have asked for in life. a beautiful home in greenwhich, just far away from london so that you don't have to mingle with city life, but close enough to be surrounded by the ton. a library with all the books you could ask for and a friend you care for dearly. all except for the man of your dreams, who just so happens to be your best friends brother. worst of all, he only sees you as such. his sisters best friend. (bridgerton!au)

warnings: 18+ mdni, gojo doesn't know how to communicate his feelings, slight angst (with comfort), smut, eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, (happy ending)

word count: 17.3k+ (i have no idea how)

note: yes, this is inspired by penelope and colin. yes, i know that colin isn't a viscount. their story is coming out later than expected so i took matters into my own hands. tysm @jadeisthirsting for beta reading! (if you saw this the first time no you didn't, i hope tumblr doesn't glitch out again)

jjk masterlist

You had a great life, as far as it went.

You were born into a wealthy family, far more wealthy than they deserved to be. You had maids at your beck and call and did not need to worry about the future as long as you acted correctly. You had book upon books, as many as you could dream of, so long as you didn’t bore your mother too much with them. You had any sort of food you could dream of and you had the most caring friend in the world who loved you very much.

Honestly, what more could a woman ask for?

“I say we move the whole ordeal to Friday, seeing how Satoru is only arriving on Wednesday. But my mother insisted that we keep in on Thursday because the rest of London just couldn’t wait to see my dashing brother…” Lily continued her furious rant as she paced back and forth the vast expanse of your family’s drawing room, shaking her head in clear frustration.

“And you want it to be a day later…because…?” You sipped quietly on your tea, trying to keep your smile at a minimum. It was hard not to get giggly when Lily’s face got red and her eyes bugged out of her sockets. For such a pretty girl it tended to shift her features whenever she got angry or annoyed.

“Well, he’s going to be tired!” She stopped her pacing as she stared at you with her mouth a bit open as if it were the most obvious answer, “And whenever Satoru is tired he’s so difficult to deal with. He’s going to want to talk about his travels for at least three days before he’s ready to mingle with the rest of the works!”

You nodded heavily, showing her that you were completely on her side.

“Has he written to you?” She asked and then quickly shook her head, despite the fact you were going to answer with a quiet yes to her question. He had written you a few letters, all of them stashed in your vanity as you read over them, each going over his travels, sometimes sending you little knick-knacks he saw.

“Not the point. What I’m trying to say is that my mother always goes over the limit with how much she welcomes her children. And Satoru for that matter! Christ, he’s twenty-five and unmarried!”

You wanted to sink into your seat in embarrassment. You were only so much younger and had never had even an interaction with a suitor before.

Life was great, for the most part.

As much as you couldn’t complain, there was a small matter at hand that was growing increasingly more alarming the more the years went on.

For as long as you could remember, you and Lily were set on never getting married. Ever since she read that one Jane Austen book she was hellbent on independence and no men. You tagged along, seeing how that was a better excuse than admitting no man had even asked you to join him to be his partner to dance before.

Lily didn’t seem to care much for this. While she was set on her celibacy pact, she had been approached before. It doesn’t change much, but it did at least show her that somebody wants her. You were either such as a spinster or married to some ancient man your mother had to dig out from some corner of the market.

“And Satoru…” Lily rambled on, but all it did was remind you of an even worse fact.

You were terribly in love with her brother.

You have known the Gojo family for ten years, five months, twelve days, and two hours, and you have been in love with Gojo Satoru for ten years, five months, twelve days, and thirty minutes.

Their family had immigrated from Japan months before the oldest child was born, but they had only moved to Greenwich ten years, five months, and ten days ago. You met them only two days later when you accidentally wandered into their gardens, unknowing that a family had just moved in.

The first time you met that particular Gojo, you were thirteen and facing serious issues with yourself and your own family. You wanted to move to America in hopes that the boys over there would fancy you more and your mother forbade it. Satoru laughed when he saw your horrified face popping up from their blackberry bush, definitely not expecting to see anybody there.

“Hello there,” the stranger called out. You thought he was a grandfather with the way his hair was artic white, but he only seemed to be a bit older than you the closer he got.

“I’m not stealing from you I swear!” You cried out as you let the blackberries tumble out of your stained hands. You cannot be taken to prison, you simply wouldn’t survive.

“I can see that.” He crossed his arms as he tried not to laugh at the way your dress was stained a dark blue color.

He introduced himself, and Lily, and soon, you and the girl were attached at the hip.

It didn’t help that as kind and as charming as he was, he only saw you as his sister's closest friend. It also didn’t help that every other woman in high society seemed to be in love with the man and it certainly made it so much more horrific that he seemed to have his eyes on everybody else but you.

He, much like his sister, was averse to the idea of marriage, but for a completely different reason.

He seemed to despise the idea of being committed, which is most likely why he had been traveling the entirety of Europe and Asia for the past year or so. Despite his mother’s frantic worrying about setting him up with a respectable lady, he pushed them all aside and fled (in some sense) and will be making his grand appearance a couple of days from now. Everybody is chattering with excitement. You’re trying not to fill with total impending dread.

It had already taken everything you had to pretend that he didn’t exist and that he had simply disappeared, and you knew your wretched mind would fall for him just as quickly as it did the first time around when you were set to see him next week.

“...and, are you even listening?” Lily asked, her voice garbling back to life as you snapped your eyes back to hers, covering your mouth with your teacup as you insistently nodded, trying to keep your smile from faltering as she squinted her eyes to look you over and see what was wrong.

“I’m totally in tune with you Lils,” you insisted, nibbling on a cookie to help you with nausea which only seemed to make it worse.

“Hm,” she grunted, not seeming to believe you but not truly caring as she continued, “And thank the heavens you’ll be there beside me, for who knows what would become of me in such an unruly crowd of men and women just waiting for my brother to make his entrance. I’d lose my sanity.”

Yes, you thought, how lucky. If only love worked that way, of ignoring it until it faded. If only.

“I’ll be there.” You promised.

For better or for worse, you’d be there.

---

The ball was just as you had imagined it.

Extravagant, elegant, large, and incredibly crowded.

One of the perks of being an outsider in these sorts of scenes is you didn’t have to dance anymore (no matter how much it stung the first time around getting used to this fact).

Lily was off somewhere, being forced to socialize. Your other sisters were also lost in the crowd, either dancing or being swooned by a potential match.

You were yet to see the man of the hour, but then again, so was everybody else. He was either hiding away or being swallowed whole by the hoards of people eager to get a glimpse of him.

Not that you wanted to see him, of course. Just curious.

The food was, as always, a bonus. Nobody was going to judge you for scarfing anything down when you had begrudgingly sworn off marriage, and perhaps one of the good things about Lily's pact was that you didn’t care much about the public eye anymore.

“Please, at least act like we’re not starving you.” Your mother pleaded, unfortunately, stuck to your side for the night as she eyes you and your plate.

“I’m trying my best,” you reasoned, making sure you didn’t drop anything on your dress.

“The Viscount is coming tonight,” she tried to think and you snorted, earning some distasteful looks from the widows around you.

“And he’s just dying to see me, I suppose?” You rolled your eyes at the idea, to help the sting from your own words. It was better to be rationable than to be delusional.

“Well it doesn’t hurt to-”

“Try?” You cut her off with another laugh as you chew on an eclair, “Might as well. Right after the Princess introduces herself I’ll go up.” The two of you eye the girl in the diamond-encrusted gown with an equally bright tiara on her head. Your mother gave up the argument.

For the last couple of days, you have been at a mental war with yourself. On the one hand, it surely must mean something if he wrote you letters. On the other one, he wrote it to his entire family and he probably views you as such. No matter how much you want to pretend that the Gojo cares for you, it won’t be in the same way that measures how much you care for him.

“I’m going to get some more of these macaroons, I’ll be right back.” You excuse yourself as your mother pressed her lips into a thin line, wanting to push you to dance but knowing no amount of persuading was going to change your mind when it was already set on something.

Wading through the dense crowd was certainly a feat, but you did it nonetheless. From the dessert table, you could barely make out the pop of chartreuse that was Lily's gown, and you wondered how much longer until she’d be free to giggle and gossip with you.

Your eyes scanned over the little sweets carefully as you mentally weighed which one would taste good and which one would be a surprise in the kindest sense of the word. The colorful ones were often pretty but they tested either too bland or too bitter and the ones with caramel side sugar tended to be too sweet. All the good macaroons with the pistachio filling were gone, which was odd because you could only count on your fingers how many people aside from you tended to favor that one.

“Looking for something?”

A green macaron was held in front of your face, slowly forcing you to turn your head in its direction as it began to pull away from you

Him.

“Oh!”

Oh? If only you could hit yourself in the head that would be great.

“Oh?” Gojo chuckled, his brows pinching together in slight confusion at your reaction as his lips threatened to pull into a teasing smile, “I haven’t seen you in a year and that's what you’ve got to say?”

You try not to let your heart flutter at his cheeky manner as you roll your eyes, your smile growing as you take him in.

He’s gotten taller if that was even possible. His hair is still as white as it was, and it seems that no amount of sun was going to change that. He’s gotten a little bit tanner, no longer that frigid pale hue to his skin that made you worry he’d drop dead at any moment. He’s unfortunately more muscular, which just means you have to cast away the scrawny image you’ve made in your mind in hopes that he’d come back anemic.

His eyes are just as captivating as ever, blue and inviting. His jaw is sharper and yet he has no facial hair on his face. Which you prefer on most men but you’re glad he’s never given into that trend.

Most importantly, he still looks like that boy you fell in love with so many years ago, and no time away would ever change you at your core.

You try to not let your neck prickle with heat as he seems to assess you the same way you're doing to him, try not to feel self-conscious as his eyes roam over your features. Sure, a person can change in a year, but you wouldn’t bet you’ve changed that much that would warrant this amount of staring.

“So…?”

“‘Toru, hi!” You snap out of your state, watching as his face picks up and breaks into a grin as you set your plate down somewhere, seemingly now realizing that Satoru is here and in front of you, “My, you’ve grown so much!”

“Really?” He looks at his torso and his arms as if he can’t believe it.

“Well, a bit,” you curse at your awkwardness as he cocks a brow, “I’m sorry, I’m a bit out of my element tonight. I apologize for my earlier reaction.” You duck your head down for a second as he waves it off, hopefully not offended.

You’re glad this little table is tucked away in an alcove away from most of the public eye, and the only people around the two of you are older people and the people standing outside in the gardens. Either they don’t see the man or they’re being somewhat human and granting the two of you some privacy.

“Apology accepted, but not needed,” he teases, patting your shoulder affectionately as you try not to act as if that single touch made you reconsider the idea of marriage.

“How are you?” He asks after a beat, not affected by your out-of-character attitude as he tilts his head to the side.

“As good I could be,” you offer him a wink that came off as an elongated blink, “Whatever Lily filled you in on has most likely happened to me too.” He chuckles, his laughter the sound of melted honey.

Fuck, you’re never going to get over him.

“And you? How were your trips?” You egged him on, eyes tracing him, watching as some pink dusted over his cheeks.

“Boring. Couldn’t wait to come back.” He says, but you can hear the sarcasm in his voice. Mixed with the way he couldn’t contain his bits of laughter, you laughed alongside him.

“I’d believe it if not for your tan and newfound outlook on life, or so it seems from how Lily describes it.”

“She exaggerates everything,” he waves it off, and you wonder what that double-edged sword implies.

“I-”

“He’s here!” You hear a loud voice cut you off as the two of you look over your shoulder to see his mother leading the awaiting princess and her train to where the two of you are standing, “He seems to be getting warmed up with this fine lady!” She says your name as heat rushes to your cheeks in embarrassment.

It was only seconds before you were surrounded by men and women you had never seen before, all hanging off of Satoru’s words as he scrambled to answer all of their questions.

And so it begins, you say to yourself as you push away from them, going to find Lily as you wonder why you even try.

You miss the way he calls out for you, quiet enough so that nobody else hears it, but loud enough that his chest tightens in confusion at the sheer desperation of it.

---

“I despise men!”

You’re at the Gojo estate for once, and Lily has started a new tirade that has lasted for the last hour.

“What brought this on?” You press, exchanging worried glances with Satoru and her younger sister as she groans, jamming her palms into her eyes as she vehemently shakes her head.

“Does this,” she shoves her hand, more importantly, her ring finger without a ring, in front of your face, “Look like I’m keen on getting married to you?”

“No….?” You mutter, scared of what she would say next.

“Does it look like an invitation to barge into my home?”

“Not exactly,” You say, earning a sympathetic look for Satoru as she glares at him.

“Does it look like I want to get frisky in the broom cupboards?”

“Christ! Lily, your sisters here!” You shout, jumping to cover the young girl's ears. Lily waves it off and Satoru just chuckles, a twinkle in his eyes as you usher the girl out of the tea room as you slam the door shut.

“This certainly beats the beaches in Venice,” Satoru says as you near the table again, winking at you as you laugh quietly.

“I’m so glad I’m not getting married. You should be too,” she points her finger at you as you look up at her, “Men are nothing but evil, money hungry, sex driven-”

“Charming, majestic-” Satoru talks over her as she talks even louder.

“Dirty animals!” She finishes with a cry.

You and Satoru share a glance as you try to laugh. She’s not wrong, far from it. The majority of men in this place needed to be sent back to their creator, but Lily had a vein in his forehead that was protruding at an odd angle.

“You laugh now, but you’ll be thanking me fifty years from now.” She warns as you nod, acting totally compliant with her.

“You’re still with her on her no-marriage pact?” Satoru asks as he stands up, walking past Lily as he looks out from the window, seemingly admiring the gardens outside. He glances over at you as you sink into the satin cushions beneath you.

“Yes,” but your answer came out shaky and unsure.

“Of course she is,” Lily answered for you with a definite nod, “And besides, she’s the luckier one. It’s not like any man has even asked her to marry anyway.” She says jokingly, shoving a biscuit in her mouth as she plops herself down beside you, nudging your shoulder with hers as if it were the funniest thing in the world.

You wish the sofa could swallow you whole.

“Hey,” Satoru turns around, brows furrowed as he looks at his sister, but the door opens before he can finish his sentence.

“Miss Gojo,” their butler, Fred, who you’ve known since you’ve known Lily announces for her as he stands at the foot of the door, “Your mother has requested your presence in her quarters.”

Lily stands up with a groan, wiping the crumbs off of her dress as she makes sure there’s nothing around the corners of her mouth.

“I’m needed elsewhere,” she pats your arm caring for it despite having her words wanting to make you plummet yourself off of a cliff, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You give her a weak goodbye, watching as she leaves with the door shutting behind her as you sit up a bit straighter, getting ready to leave yourself.

You stand up, careful not to make any eye contact with Satoru out of sheer embarrassment as you smooth out the wrinkles in your dress, hoping the silence would suffocate you faster than it would him.

“Lily talks too much sometimes,” he finally says, stepping away from the window as he takes a two closer to your direction, before passing, “I’d apologize on her behalf but I’m pretty sure she’s already forgotten what she’s said.” He tries to lighten the mood and bless his soul, but you can already feel your spirits for the day sour.

“It’s alright,” you promise, though he seems to disagree but you continue anyway, “I know her, she doesn’t mean it.” Still doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt, a part of you chides.

“Are you leaving?” He asked, taking another tentative step forward.

“I was planning on it,” you say with a little chuckle, hoping that your eyes watering up wasn’t too noticeable, “Is that alright with you?”

He looked at you with his bright eyes and just blinked, taking a while to reach his senses.

“Y-yes! Yes, quite alright. Let me just get my coat…” He muttered, brushing past you as you quickly tried to reject his incoming offer.

“There’s no need!” You run a bit to catch up to him and his fast pace, “My house is barely two skips away,” you lamely joke, hoping he’d give it up. You wanted to wallow in your self-pity on your walk home, not have to converse with the one man who’d inadvertently give you more to pity over.

“Not a chance,” he argued, draping the coat in question over his arm, “What sort of person would I be if I let you walk out alone?”

Any other person, you wanted to say but stopped yourself.

“I don’t mean to bother you…” You wrong your hands in a nervous state, eyes darting everywhere but his.

You were trying to work on your silly crush this past week, which had unfortunately ramped up ever since he came back. In response, you worked out that the best solution to getting over it was to act like he didn’t exist and ignore him whenever possible. Clearly, it was working out completely in your favor.

“Not a bother at all.” He insisted, linking his other arms with yours as you jumped a bit in surprise. He was forward, if anything.

“Fred,” he calls out, getting the butler's attention as you try to hide yourself away, “Tell my mother I’ll be back in a bit.” The man just nods, opening up the front doors as Satoru leads the two of you out.

The sun was out and working away, which didn’t help with the heat already prickling away through your skin. The Gojo estate was large, but hidden away, and for that you were glad. You could only imagine the gossip that would arise if certain ladies in society were to see you (helplessly) draped over the bachelor's arm.

“Are you enjoying being back here?” You asked, trying to exert your confidence when you were feeling anything but.

It’s not like you were unsure of yourself at most times, it’s just that when you’re around the one man you’ve been in love with since childhood and he feels nothing of the sort, you can’t help but be more conscious over everything.

Satoru looked at you, shrugging as he pursed his lips, thinking of an answer.

“I missed it,” he says, “But I mainly came back for my family and my friends and well…” He trailed off, chewing on his lip as he waved off his thoughts as if it didn’t matter, “Nonetheless, now that I’ve been around them, I remember why I wanted to leave.”

And sometimes, despite him not wanting to, made you feel as if you were the most important person he’s had the pleasure of talking to, when in reality that’s just in his nature.

“Is Lily pestering you too much?” You tease, a little smile on your face that wrinkles the edges of your eyes. He simply stared at you again, his eyes bright.

“That,” he playfully tugged on your arm, “And the fact that my mother has bombarded me with the idea of marriage. And Luke is having troubles with his fiancé and Annie doesn’t want to learn to read…it’s all just very chaotic.” He finished with a tired laugh, as if that’s all he could muster up.

“Seems like a normal day in your house, if I’m being honest.” You lament, kicking a pebble with the point of your shoe.

“I guess so,” he heaves a sigh that comes out dramatically, “Honestly, I don’t know how you’ve put up with it all these years.”

You scoff, digging your elbow into his side a bit to show that you were offended by his statement.

“Your family is perhaps the closest thing I have to a second family!”

“And who says family can’t get on your last nerve?” He argued, and that shut you up. He was, indubitably, correct.

“Yes, well,” you stumble to find some reasoning and he laughs seeing you falter, knowing that he got you cornered, “‘Toru, you are simply a horrible influence to be around.” Is all you can come up with, and despite the severity of your words it only seems to spur him on even more.

“And yet you can’t seem to get enough of me, can you?”

You almost stopped in your tracks, your heart seizing in your chest as you try not to fumble up your well-made facade of indifference.

All you could remember upon his statement were the words he spoke so long ago, not knowing you’d heard them.

“Charles, you don’t get it, I don’t want a wife!” Satoru exclaimed as he snapped at his friend. It was a gala held at the queen's palace and you had strayed too far away from Lily and found yourself hiding behind a wall as you eavesdropped on the conversation.

“Not even the Princess?” Another man pushed as you heard Satoru let out a heavy sigh. You peeled around to see him pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t want to be tied down. You saw what happened to my parents.” He argued. A part of you sympathized with him.

“Well,” you could make out this voice as his younger brother, two years older than you he went to thinking, “What about that friend of Lily’s? She seems nice enough.”

The hair on your arm pricked upwards. Surely they couldn’t be talking about you.

“Who?” Satoru asks and his brother says your name in a hushed whisper, as if you held more weight in your title than the Princess did.

“Her? No, absolutely not,” he said with such disgust that his friends thought he was joking, “You’re out of your mind if you’d think I’d want to court her.”

Your heart, full of love and hope and dreams cracked, crumbled in your chest. And you left, running away because that’s all you knew how to do and sobbed your eyes out to Lily, stating that you heard somebody talking bad about you, refusing to admit that it was her own brother that was causing you to break in front of her.

A part of you felt pathetic for still caring for him after that night, but there’s not much fight in you when it comes to the people you loved. You pulled away, sure, and stopped your lame excuses of flirting, but you never stopped. He never found out that you heard, so he continued as your friend and you continued as the shameless woman.

“Right,” you swallow thickly, glad that your estate is now growing closer and closer, knowing that you feel sick and can’t handle it anymore, “Thank you so much for your help, but I’m sure I can make the treacherous journey on my own now.”

You wring your hand away from his arm, you smile wobbling as you tip your head in his direction, watching him try to make sense of your quick change in nature.

“Let me take you up to your door,” he started but you raised your hand to silence him, shaking your head.

“That would be too much to ask for. I will leave you here…um, Satoru,” you say politely, not noting the way his jaw clenched at your sudden formality when addressing him, “I’ll see you tomorrow, hopefully.”

And you left quickly before he could say anything else. You must stay focused on the reality of your situation;

Your best friend's brother just simply wasn’t in love with you.

---

“Miss,”

You perked up from your chair in your quaint little library, setting your book down as you watched one of the maids, Ella, politely calls from the door.

“There’s a gentleman outside calling for you.”

Your brows furrowed as you found a marker so that you don’t lose your place and purse your lips together in questioning.

“Do you know who…?” Your head cocked to the side as you stood up, walking near her as you wondered if it were that delivery boy who said he’d come with the new copies of the Brontë books you’d been eyeing for the past month.

“It’s the Viscount Gojo, miss.” She said simply.

Your face dropped, and you watched as confusion spread across hers.

“Him? Here? Did he say what was wrong?” You began to rustle around, trying to find something to throw on top of your slip.

Did something happen to Lily? Did she run away? Was their mother in trouble? You could recall her telling you that her head was aching, could something serious have happened because of that? Christ, you should have told somebody about it rather than comfort her and make her tea. Was he leaving again? Perhaps-

“He said he wanted to see you miss, that’s all he told me.” She seemed apprehensive, judging your face to see if you were maybe feeling ill due to your reaction.

“Um, alright, just,” you hurried around, trying your fastest to get to your room, “Tell him I’ll be down in a few minutes! Don’t tell him I’m preparing myself, just say that I was discussing matters with somebody!” You call out as you sprint across the halls, not hearing any confirmation as you lock yourself in your room, ransacking your closet to find something not too flashy but not too boring.

It took a good four minutes just to find a suitable dress and another five to make your face and hair look presentable enough as you scampered down the stairs only to find said Viscount waiting in the foyer.

His face turned to yours as he heard your heels clicking on the marble, growing into a bright smile as he dipped his head down to greet you.

“Hello,” he said your name with that smooth voice of his as he took his jacket off and kept it on his arm, “I’m sorry for turning up on such short notice.”

“It’s no problem,” you try to catch your breath for the first time in the last ten minutes as your chest heaves slightly up and down, “No problem at all. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He takes a second to respond, eyes scanning your features, your clothing, your chest as it tries to catch a solid breath, and you feel yourself look down to make sure there aren't any noticeable wrinkles in the fabric.

“I, I just wanted to drop in. See how you were doing.”

You tried not to look even more startled, but your brows creased once again as you gnawed on the inside of your cheek.

“I’m quite alright…thank you…?” You couldn’t look that out of the ordinary, right?

“Good, that’s good,” he watched as you finished your descent down the stairs, slowly coming towards him as you waited for him to finish, “I’m sorry if I interrupted your conversation with…?” Ella did give him a name you wanted to guess.

“Lord Cornwallis.” You finished for him, not knowing why that was the first name that came to your mind. It was true that he had been here yesterday, but you didn’t talk much to him in his brief visit.

“Lord Cornwallis?” Satoru repeated back in shock, his brows shooting upwards as he did nothing to hide his outburst. His face quickly turned into one of disgust, which accurately represented the emotions you felt yesterday when you eavesdropped on the conversation he had with your mother behind closed doors.

“Yes, you just missed him. He went out through the back door,” why were you making this web of lies even bigger? You have no self-control, do you?

“What was Cornwallis doing here?”

You but your tongue, having to come up with a lie or tell the truth as to why he had visited yesterday. Either way, both options turned out with horrible results.

“He asked for my hand.” The truth it was, then.

His brows seemed to disappear into his hairline as his jaw slacked, mouth wide open. Damn your mind, you should have just lied.

Lily was wrong in one thing, perhaps. You have gotten a few marriage offers in the last three years, but by all men who were older than your grandfather. You hadn’t even told Lily about them and now you were telling her brother.

“I…” Satoru couldn’t even find the right words to say. You wanted to bury yourself in a hole.

“…Cornwallis? Isn’t he-”

“Pushing ninety-nine? Yes.” Nobody was sure of his age, and ninety-nine was perhaps even being too generous. Everybody knew that Cornwallis was simply ancient.

“Did I save you from the conversation at least? I must say, if there was any man I would wish ill upon, it’s certainly him. He’s a lying old cheat.” He tried to joke again but you swallowed thickly. Perhaps if he came at the same time yesterday he might have. But he didn’t and you had to sit through an hour of him pleading with your mother as the two of you just stared in abject horror and surprise.

“Yes well, thank you…for doing that.” You lied, cleaning your teeth together as you tried to smile, not wanting to hurt his feelings as you came up closer to him, desperately hoping to change the topic of the conversation.

“Is everything alright with Lily?” You asked his eyes that were focused on the floor jumping to yours as your lips parted, worry still clear on your face.

“Yes, of course, I just wanted to ask a favor of you. But, judging from your encounter with men today I would understand if this is pushing it,” he cut right to the crux of the matter. He seemed nervous, which was an odd emotion to see on a man otherwise very confident and sure in himself. It unsettled you.

You tilted your head, waiting for him to find his words and continue. You could make out the slight blush on his face, the pink hue that spread across his cheeks, and the tip of his nose. He was, by all means, the cutest person you’ve ever seen.

“My mother's holding another ball, two weeks from now, you see,” his lip caught between his teeth, “And she’s been bugging me about having a date for the night. She wants to appease the rest of the gentry, I suppose. Would you, by any chance, like to be that?”

You stopped computing his words.

“...It’s honestly just to get her off my back. And you wouldn’t have to stay with me the entire evening, you could do whatever you’d like after we get some of the necessities over with. Lily was the first who suggested the idea, she said you wouldn’t be doing much other than gossip with her. Of course, if you don’t want to I certainly won’t force the idea, but it’s merely a suggestion.” His blue eyes, ever so convincing and round and caring bore into yours, and despite your better judgment you find yourself nodding.

“I wouldn’t mind it,” you say a bit breathlessly, completely forgetting about Cornwallis and the way you were debating it and the fact that this means nothing at all, and would most likely cause you more harm than good.

His nervousness washed away into a big smile, and you cursed yourself at the little flicker of hope you felt deep in your soul as he scrambled to find the right words to say to thank you. The flood of gratitude and appreciation stabbed deeply into your heart as he kept repeating friend, but you were too hopeful for love.

Your mother always said that loving would always be your greatest weakness.

---

You should have said no.

The amount of eyes that were focused on you was enough to make you nauseous, and you couldn’t get sick for you hadn’t had anything to eat today with how hurried everything was.

Your arm was draped around Satoru’s, and he held tightly onto your hand. He was the image of luxury and charisma right now, and if you were in the crowd looking as he made his way through the crowd you almost would have wanted to bow.

Time came by a lot faster when you were totally freaking out over it, and before you knew it, you were put in a dress you hadn’t even picked and corseted to the heavens. Your hair was done with extra detail, and they even went as far as putting some Swarovski’s into it so that when the candlelight hit it, you’d sparkle twice as much.

Satoru, ever the gentleman, had picked you up from your estate as he walked you to their home amidst all the chaos of getting ready for another ball. In all honesty, you have no idea how their mother manages to keep her sanity through all of this.

You were still a bit giddy from your earlier interaction with Satoru, although it didn’t do much to calm your nerves now.

“I’m sorry for taking so long!” You had said as you rushed down your stairs, careful not to trip over your train as you put your earrings in. Ella said that he was waiting for you downstairs, you just underestimated how early he’d be.

“Don’t apologize…” He had turned around from admiring a painting, his eyes widening a bit when he saw you. He quickly shut his mouth, but you had already gauged his reaction. You tried not to let it get the best of you, but you could have sworn he blushed more often than usual when you interlinked your arm with his.

“You’re cutting off my blood circulation.” He whispers in your ear as you try to smile, your eyes nervous as they dart around the room. How could it be even bigger than that last ball? Did they suddenly meet thirty new people?

“Maybe you could cut mine off.” You snap back through your teeth, your hand gripping his wrist as tightly as you could.

“How are we supposed to dance if one of us is dead?” He grumbles back, putting on a little grin as he makes eye contact with his mother, and then goes back to whispering, “It’s just one song and you’re done. You’ve done this before.”

You wanted to shove him to the ground.

“No, I haven’t!” You say loud enough that he hears but try to mask it so that nobody else does, “I told you yesterday this is my first time dancing with somebody!” As embarrassing as it was to admit, right now you couldn’t be bothered to care as he led you to the middle of the room, standing in first position as you two waited for the orchestra to begin.

“Are you saying I’m your first?” He teased, his tongue poking out from between his lips as he watched you grow mortified, rubbing the back of your hand in a comforting way as his means to apologize.

You wanted to go ahead and argue but the cello and violins started and you were whisked away by his calculated movements, and the only thing you could do was follow in his lead.

The two of you practiced a bit in the days leading up to this, but it was a lot different when your only crowd was Lily and her constant whining about how boring it was.

Now, with everybody staring at you and him, it was far more daunting.

“Don’t look at the ground, look at me,” he whispered in your ear, smiling when your eyes traveled to him. He tried not to crack when he saw the pure loathing and hatred in them, but at least you were looking up and not at his shoes.

“‘Toru I’m never doing a favor for you again, you owe me.” You groan, letting him twirl you around in a circle as some of the ladies give a polite clap.

“Name your price.” He egged you on, bringing you back flush against his chest as his hand found purchase on your waist.

“Not money,” you grumble, eyes twitching as your heart beats rapidly in your chest, you’ve always wanted to dance with him, sure, but not under these circumstances.

“Books?” You consider it but shake your head. You deserve something bigger for what you’re putting yourself through. Shocking enough, after being a wallflower for so many years, you weren’t handling being in the spotlight too well.

“I’ll think about it. But it has to be big.” You warn and he lifts up his pinky on your waist to show you his unbridled loyalty to keeping true to your words.

“Where are you going after this is done?” He spins the two of you around, and you watch as more couples rush around the two of you. It’s less stressful when others are dancing, but you still feel tense.

“I’m probably going to stay with Lily outside.” He seems to deflate a little, though he still stands tall, his suit never crinkling through his movements.

“No more dancing?” He teased but you vehemently disagree with the idea.

“Never again.” It’s not as though you hate it, in fact, a younger you would have been jumping with glee to be able to dance with Satoru. But after years of growing accustomed to watching rather than participating, you can’t grow out of that habit.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to see the Princess herself as she looked at you with pleading eyes.

“Would you mind if…?” She motioned to Satoru and then to you. You barely noticed the number coming to an end, and the rupture of applause was the last thing you heard before you scrambled away from him.

You didn’t even notice how he had held onto your hand tighter, not wanting to let you go.

“O-of course, your majesty.” You winced at your select choice of words and how you said her title almost as if you questioned it.

“Thank you.” She mumbled and for somebody of such high regard, you wouldn’t think of her to need to plead with somebody, especially you, to be able to have a dance with Satoru.

Your job for the night was done, successfully might be too loose of a term, but finished nonetheless. You chose not to look back at Satoru, knowing that the wide grin he’d save for the girls he was interested in would only twist that knife deeper into your heart.

You were a sadist in the most pathetic way possible.

You waved goodbye to Satoru as another number started again, and tried your best to get away from all the twirling bodies as you headed out to find Lily.

It didn’t take long until you found her trying to weasel out some information from her brother, tapping him repeatedly on the shoulder as he tried to fight her off.

“…what did you hear, what do you know?” She pressed as he groaned, obviously trying to have a private conversation with the lady next to him.

“Nothing Lily!” He locked eyes with you as he almost begged silently for you to take her.

“Lily, I’m here. We can go now.” You looped elbows with her as you dragged her away, giving her brother a quick smile that said you accepted his gratefulness.

As you walked through the stone path in the garden, she muttered dejectedly about how she was just about to get some good information out of him.

“How was dancing with Satoru?” She finally asked after a while. The two of you weren’t alone, but far less crowded than it would if you had been inside.

“Stressful, but the song was short so I wasn’t needed for too long.” You tell her honestly. If there’s one thing you can’t do with Lily it’s lie, for she’ll sniff out of you the moment you come up with it.

“You look flustered.” She noted, looking over your face and the sweat that dotted over your cheekbones.

“You dance in a sweltering room like that with the entire ton looking at you and try not to get flustered.” You reasoned and she seemed to buy it. It wasn’t a total lie, but a stretch of the truth.

“You know,” Lily had terrible balance and often collided with you as she walked, “I was talking to my mother and despite her insistent warnings, I think we should make it official.”

“Make what official?” The lights from the candles above you illuminated her face and she had that look of mischief that either excited or frightened you.

“That we plan to be unwed.” She grinned cheek to cheek and all you could feel was that same wave of nausea that had been prickling at you since the start of the night. This was the last thing you needed to hear about right now.

“They’re going to think we’re either lunatics or lovers.” You say with a sullen and heavy sigh, looking up at the sky in some sort of desperate manner as you wait for some sort of angel to save you from this conversation.

“And what’s the issue with that? Let them think. You have always said you’ve wanted this, so let’s let the world know.”

Something you wish Lily was was to be more aware. As loving, thoughtful and caring as she was, she never seemed to pick up on the little things. For one, you doubted she noticed just how quiet you got whenever she brought up this conversation. You’d give her the benefit of the doubt and say that you rarely talked much when it came to marriage, but that was just so that you could save yourself from the ongoing embarrassment of never having experienced love or some sort of feeling that somebody would feel towards you to genuinely want to be your husband.

Not only that, but far from Lily's point of help, is the fact that ever since Satoru has been back, your childish feelings have come flooding right in with him. No matter how many tea sessions you have with Lily and have him sitting in the background, either reading the morning's paper or jotting things down in his journal, it always spins to him sitting right beside you as you talk about anything under the sun.

And while you know your hopes of marrying him are just too far-fetched, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic. Something Lily just hasn’t ever been able to pick up on when around you. Which is shocking, seeing how the only novels you’ve read for the majority of your life was centered around such a topic.

“Listen, Lily, I’ve been thinking,” you pause for a second in your place, staring at the pebbles arranged in the formation of a star as you swallow your bile, “That maybe…”

You were nervously wringing your hands together, a sign that Lily knew all too well. She could read you like any of her books, and she let out a gasp, covering her mouth with a shaky hand as she pointed an accusatory finger at you.

“No,” she dug the finger into your chest, “You’re thinking of breaking up the pact?” It comes out breathless. Her soft curls of white that had been done up beautifully were slowly falling down as she shook her head in pure shock, not giving you a chance to talk.

“I mean this is just brilliant. Brilliant! What am I supposed to do now, go out into the world alone as a spinster?”

You stuttered, your fingers interlaced with one another as you tried to calm her down from causing a scene. Trying to shush her came to no avail as you wring your hands away from her, acting as if your touch was burning.

If the Gojo’s were anything, it’s overly dramatic in places where dramatics were certainly not needed.

“Please be rational,” she urged you as she clutched onto your wrists, suddenly pleading to you with her wide eyes, “The season is almost over and you haven’t had any offers. Sooner than later we’re going to be thirty, then forty, then fifty, and husbandless. We should say it now so that it doesn’t come off as a pathetic cry to hold onto what little decency we have in the future!”

Christ, you hated that she was being somewhat logical. But her rationality stung, the way melted wax does when it burns the skin. She didn’t know just how much she was hurting you, and you doubted she ever would.

“Look, I know I’m probably not going to be offered a chance at marriage, but it wouldn’t hurt to at least try.” You try to reason with her as she sniffs, her eyes squinted as she looks at you in anger.

“This was our pact and you’re going against it! What’s next?”

You were going to argue that this pact was only made on the basis of her having too much champagne to drink and you being sullen over her brother, but you were cut off from getting the chance to do so.

“What’s your issue?”

You turned around at the familiar voice as you saw Satoru nearing you, Lily continuing her rant as she seemed to completely miss that her brother was coming towards the two of you.

“What?” You felt overwhelmed with having two Gojo’s corner you, both rather angry from the looks of it.

“I know that this isn’t your scene but you said you’d be my date. You don’t have to dance with me, but at least be there.” He looks like he’s seething, and you’ve never seen this look on him before. It’s jarring, to say the least.

You feel like your head is about to explode.

“I just-”

“....and my mother was only more confident in the idea if you were doing it!” Lily exclaimed, causing you to look back at her as she urged you to think about it.

“...my mother has given me at least twenty women to mull over in the last twenty minutes. It would have been none if you just acted as my date for the night!” Satoru’s voice rose, and you felt like your heart was going to actually stop. Your head was spinning, your vision was blurry, and you couldn’t hear anything besides a loud ringing in your ears.

“I’m sorry but-” The two of them talked over you, so stuck in their own worlds that they didn’t notice the tears pricking at your eyes or the way you seemed to be short of breath. It would probably be one of their greatest flaws, never noticing something until it was far too late.

“Stop!” You cried out, earning some looks from the people around you as you rubbed at your forehead, already feeling it ache under your touch, “Please! Listen, just for a bloody second!”

You took a deep breath and began.

“I’m a fucking romantic Lily, and nothing’s ever going to change that! I always have been! And I want to get married, I just agreed to your pact because I know I’m probably never going to get that chance! And god, how can your only takeaway from reading Persuasion be to abstain from marriage?” Your nose crinkles in anger as you turn around to point your finger at her brother's chest, watching as he takes your reaction in obvious surprise.

“You!” You cry out and he almost backs away, “I was trying to give you some courtesy by leaving! God forbid you gave anybody the idea that you were courting me!” You quickly wipe at your eyes but it does fuck all of hiding how you truly felt as your lips wobbled.

“Why would…?” He's breathless, no longer angry, just utterly confused and a wee bit frightened.

“We both know you’re too good for that. How’d you phrase it, you’d be out of your mind if you did such a thing?” You throw his own words back at him, and you watch in some sort of mixture of triumph and heartbreak as realization washes over his features.

He finally remembers.

“I…” he swallowed thickly, running a hand through his hair as it fell out of his face, rubbing at his jaw as you looked at you from beneath his lashes, “I didn’t…” but he can’t finish his sentences and instead stops, sharing an unreadable look with his sister as they then look at you.

“I’m going home.” You say after a beat of silence, breathing deeply through your nose as you look away from the two of them.

“Let me-” Satoru started but you raised a hand to stop him.

“I think I’d be better off alone.” You snap, nostrils flaring as you shake your head, pinching the bridge of your nose as you try to stop the already impending migraine that is about to come.

For once in your life, you didn’t care about the eyes boring into your back or the way that whispers flew around you and twisted around your throat like a vine. You were glad that nobody else other than the servants was home as you ran up into your room, locking everybody else out as you sobbed into your pillows.

---

The days following your (well-deserved) outburst were more than rough.

To your knowledge, Lily has visited a total of ten times in the past five days, sometimes twice in the same one, while her brother has visited a grand total of zero. You didn’t expect much from him, but this really cemented your quickly growing disdain.

Your mother informed you constantly that she was trying to put out the fires from that night but you couldn’t bring it to feel too bad, after all, you were glad that you didn’t say anything more drastic.

“This is just so unlike you!” She cried, shaking in disappointment as you munched on some sweets you nicked from the kitchen.

“I know,” you chuckled, “I’m so proud of myself.”

She just throws her hands in the air as a sign of utterly giving up and storms out of the room, most likely to meet with somebody else to “clean up the mess.”

She was right for some part, you can’t remember the last time you actually told somebody how you were feeling. It’s not healthy on your end, but growing up with three older sisters who always got it their way meant that you had some lack of backbone.

Lily and Satoru, as much as you cared about them, didn’t live like that. Their mother loved them all equally and she made sure that all of their voices were heard. She was always making sure that their priorities were met and she never made them feel inferior.

Which somehow, didn’t pass on to you.

Loving the way you do got tiring when you got nothing back, and giving everybody your all when nobody seemed to notice it felt as though you were alone in a world full of people who cared for each other. You’ve read the books and heard the stories, but you eventually realized that it simply just wasn’t in your cards to be dealt the same thing.

They cared, you know they did. But sometimes, it felt like they expected your care in order for them to show it to you.

“Miss?” you heard a faint voice and a knock at your door. You sat up from your slump as Ella slowly came inside, shutting the door soundly behind her.

“Did my mother ask you to make sure I haven’t flung myself off the balcony?” You dust away any crumbs from your pull over as you stare out the window.

“I’m making sure you didn’t.”

Your head snapped over at the familiar voice only to see Lily standing at the foot of your bed, looking out of place with her bright purple dress. She looked like she was teetering back and forth between staying out and sprinting away, and you admired her courage after how many times you’ve turned down her offer.

You glared at Ella but she was no longer there, leaving you and Lily alone.

“You’re just in time then.” You say blandly, standing up from your bed as you make the covers and are careful not to come too close to her. She seemed to notice.

“We can’t go about this forever,” she stated, rounding the corner of your bed as she took three steps forward while you took one back, not wanting to be cornered again the way you were that night, “This silent treatment is killing me.”

“Then die,” you don’t mean it and she knows it, but her face wobbles for a second and you watch in horror as tears spring to Lily's eyes.

The last time Lily cried the two of you were fifteen and her brothers had effectively ruined the singular dress she had actually been looking forward to wearing by staining it with ink. You spent at least an hour calling her down and trying to rationalize with her until you finally gave up and offered to cut holes in all of their suits.

You’re not sure you could do that now.

“I’m sorry!” She sprung herself forward at you with full throttle as she hugged you tightly, “You’re right! There’s nothing wrong with being a romantic!” You don’t know what to do as you stand there in shock so you awkwardly pat her back, her long white hair never loose so you’ve never really seen it to its full extent.

“My brother and I have been at war with each other trying to put the blame on somebody else but I’m sorry! You of all people deserve to find love,” she looks up and her eyes just look like oceans and it’s unfair how pretty she looks when she cries because you just look like a mess, “Please, please forgive me.”

You look as she refuses to pull away from you, clutching desperately onto the thin fabric of your nightgown that your mother reprimanded you for not getting out of, and slowly feel your hands circle around her back as you pull her into a hug.

“Honestly,” you shake your head as she looks up at you, cheeks rosy with streaks of tears and her lip wobbles violently, “I’m probably going to be on that pact ten years from now. But I just-”

“Want to try!” She finished your sentence for you, something the two of you always prided in being able to do, “and that’s respectable too!”

You try not to smile but the corners of your lips tug upwards as you nod, Lily waiting with bated breath as she scanned your reaction.

“Don’t ever treat me like that again, you hear me?”

She vehemently nods, pulling away as she wipes at her eyes, holding out her oinks finger as she waits for you to latch on. Sure, it was a childish way of making a promise, but Lily was never the serious sort of person. If anything, this is the most you’ve ever seen her apologize about something.

“I promise with the depths of my soul. If I do, brand me with an iron.” Your eyes widen as you go to disagree but she won’t take it.

“I swear.” She repeats gravely.

You look at her pinky for another second before you bring yours up, not believing that this is still how the two of you go about making amends.

“Alright then,” you heave a sigh, “I forgive you.”

Her face breaks into a wide and toothy smile as she pulls you in for a tighter hug, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs as she pulls back away.

“You’ll never regret this, I swear,” she looked radiant, but quickly stopped as she looked down at the ground, trying to gather her thoughts on how to break the news to you, “Now, be prepared for another one.”

You blink slowly, brows furrowed in confusion as you lean on your bedpost, arms crossing as your lips purse.

“What?”

She almost looks ashamed again, looking at the clock on your wall.

“My mother’s invited you over for dinner. Get ready to see the other Gojo.”

---

Your mother, as difficult as she was to deal with at most times, somehow understood the concept of showing off through a good wardrobe.

You wouldn’t put any bets on the fact that if your outfits were significantly better you might have had at least one man approach you in all these years, but it certainly could have been a possibility.

The cut was lower than all your normal dress, and with the help of your corset, pushed the sisters up a considerable amount.

The color was the most flattering you’ve ever seen, and through the utilization of crystals and diamonds encrusted in the fabric itself, it shined perfectly when the light hit it.

For the first time, you were glad your mother picked out your outfit.

Unfortunately, the outfit gave you only so much confidence. When you walked into the Gojo estate, thankfully with Lily on your side, all the memories from that night came flooding back and your stomach flipped upside down.

You were glad that Lily was seated next to you at the dinner table as well, but it didn’t help that Satoru was seated in front of you, glaring daggers into your face as you tried to avoid looking at him.

“Now, you didn’t tell me about your plans for the next year, with the season already coming to an end.” Their mother, bless her heart, asked as she loaded some peas into her fork, looking at you with her kind eyes as you struggled to think of a good enough answer.

“I’m planning on taking a marriage offer up, actually,” you say, trying not to look at Lily for you knew she was already giggling.

In the past five hours, you filled her in on everything, and she decided the best way to get Satoru to say something was if you went with the idea.

“Oh?” You watched as she perked up in interest, as did the rest of the Gojo family. An offer?

“Yes,” you nodded, “Lord Cornwallis, actually, if you’ve heard of him?”

Lily was gleaming as she saw her brother clench his jaw as he stared at the side of your face that was still looking at their mother.

“L-lord Cornwallis?” You felt bad for lying to her, but you could just come back later and say you’ve changed your mind, “He must be at least-”

“Ninety-nine?” You answered for her as her cheek warmed, “Some say he’s just in his prime, yes.”

She drank some of her wine.

“Isn’t that desperate?” Satoru finally said and you heard a loud clatter from the end of the table as their mother angrily sat her cup down, glaring at her son.

“Satoru!” She exclaimed, the rest of the girls and boys watching in tense silence as they waited for your reply.

“It’s alright,” you shrugged, fiddling with the bracelet on your wrist, “And yes, it could come off as desperate. However, I would rather go to a man who finds no problem in courting me rather than somebody who’d tell the whole world just how much it would disgust him to be seen with me.”

You could swear you heard a tooth crack.

“I’m sorry, am I missing something-” One of the brothers piped up but Satoru acted as if he hadn’t heard him.

“Well if that man were drunk out of his wits-”

“Then he let his sober thoughts reign free.” You finish for him, nostrils flaring as Satoru twisted the ring on his forefinger back and forth.

“Again, Miss Gojo, I’m simply thinking over his offer.” You finish, seeing how she could barely take her eyes off of her son as she blinked towards you, giving a shaky smile as she nodded.

“Of course, there’s no…no problem in that.” She swallowed uncomfortably, as did everybody else. You peeked over at Lily to find her just as you suspected, beaming with silent joy.

“If you wouldn’t mind, I think my dress has come a bit undone. I’m going to call for somebody to fix it.” You say, excusing yourself as you try to go ahead with the plan you had set in the first place.

“Make him mad, really mad. Say something about Cornwallis, he despises him,” Lily muttered, sitting cross-legged on your bed as she urged you to listen to her directions, “Then excuse yourself. Say you’ve got to use the privy or something, doesn’t matter.”

You nodded, listening intently as she laid it on thick for what she had been picking up on for the past couple of days.

“Go upstairs and find his room, you know where it is. Be quick with it too, but there’s this box on his desk that’s full of letters. I swear on my Austen collection that there is a letter with your name on it.”

You felt your heart tumble.

“Are you sure?” You asked, glancing at the clock to make sure you wouldn’t be late to dinner.

“Positive. And I’d get it if I could, but he’s so secretive with his room that this is probably the one time it’s going to be unlocked. He’d never suspect anybody going snooping at this hour.”

You grinned, knowing that if you finally got that little something to use against him, he’d have no choice but to grovel at your feet for the rest of his life.

You quickly scampered up the stairs, telling one of their mates that you’d be able to fix your dress on your own and that you’d be stashed away in Lily's room for the time being, and mentally times yourself as you quickly paced through the halls, looking for the familiar dark oak that would be Satoru’s room.

Just when you were about to get lost in their maze of a house, you stopped triumphantly behind the last door at the end of the hall, staring deeply at it as you weighed your options.

You quickly caved, slowly reaching out to the doorknob to see if it was locked.

It swung open, and you let out a sigh of relief and looked around a final time to make sure that nobody had followed you before you fully let yourself inside.

It was dark, and you left the door slightly open so that the light from the halls could sleep in a bit, and you went to work on locating the box on his desk that Lily had described to you.

You squint your eyes, wincing as you bumped into furniture as you made your way to the corner of the large room, blindly reaching and grabbing for anything on the mahogany desk that would resemble a box.

You let out a sound of triumph as you found a square-shaped glass-feeling thing filled to the brim with papers, holding it upwards to the sliver of light as you quickly ran through the letters with your fingers and you tried to find one with your name on it.

They seemed like they were all unsent, with many of them labeled to his mother or siblings, and a few to his friends, but you didn’t find any of them labeled to you, and you quickly felt your heart and hopes sink. This was taking far too long.

Just as you were about to give up, you passed a smaller shaped letter with cursive that looked familiar, in the sense that you had seen it addressed before, and pulled it out only to see your name staring back at you.

A part of you almost wanted to sink into the chair behind the desk, your heart beating rapidly in the small vastness of your ribcage as you held it back up to the light, seeing a note tucked neatly away through the transparency of the envelope.

Your nimble fingers went to rip the seal of wax off, but stopped as the door swung open.

“What the hell are you doing?” Satoru stood at the doorway, blocking the rest of the light as his shadow cast over you.

You dropped the letter, quickly hiding it behind your back as he stepped in, getting closer to you as you abruptly stood up, trying to come up with a feasible lie as you rounded away from his desk, trying to get away from him and his massive build.

“Oh?” You looked around as if suddenly realizing this wasn’t the place you were supposed to be, “Is this not Lily’s room? Silly me, I couldn’t make it out in the dark. I’ll be leaving now if you’ll excuse me…” You turned around, brushing past him but stopping when you felt his long fingers circle your wrist, turning you around as his eyes squinted.

“Bullshit,” you flinched, never having heard him curse before as his hands felt around yours, finding the letter you were doing a terrible job of hiding, “You know this house better than your own. Why the hell are you in my room?”

You didn’t say anything as he brought your hand out from behind your back, opening up your closed fist with much ease to reveal the crumpled-up envelope. Your chest heaved up and down, waiting with bated breath as he stared silently at the letter. You balled your fists back up again, stepping away from him as he followed you quickly in your footsteps.

“Give that to me y/n,” his voice was low and commanding, unlike anything you’ve ever heard before, and if you weren't in your rebellious mood (and somewhat in your independent, not totally in-love-with-him mood) you would have caved, but you shook your head, looking behind you as to make sure you didn’t back into his bed frame.

“It’s got my name on it.” You argued, knowing it was a terrible excuse, and you watched him chuckle darkly, knowing that you had no good reason for being in his room and sifting through his letters.

“And yet it was in my room, in my letterbox, on my desk.” He snapped, eyes a deep blue and different from the usual lightness they carried. He wasn’t joking and he wasn’t lying, he needed that letter back.

Which just made you want it even more.

You didn’t know what to do, so the only logical thing in your sporadic mind was to shove it down your dress, hiding it in your chest as Satoru watched your movements like a hawk, not saying anything as you defiantly showed him your now empty hands.

“Get it now Satoru,” you challenged him, not realizing you had backed up into the wall until your head lightly bounced off from it, wincing at the sting as you looked back behind you.

He didn’t say anything, and it seemed like his mind was running as quickly as it could as he tried to deal with whatever it was you were doing. Instead, he just three more languid steps forward, nearly face to face with you as he stared down at you, eyes darting from yours to your lips and chest.

Under any other circumstances, you would have felt like shedding your clothes off from how heated you felt under his gaze. Here, your only resort was to keep them on, to see what was so important about that letter.

“I came to find you to apologize,” his voice is low and calm, his cool breath hitting your cheek as you struggle to keep your composure, “To be civil. To tell you that I didn’t mean anything I said that night.”

Despite your mixed emotions, you felt your brows furrow at his select choice of words.

“Are you here to tell me now that you actually meant every word?” You couldn’t stop the words as they tumbled out of your mouth, knowing that the answer would probably send you into a state you could never get out of as the person you’ve loved for the majority of your life confirms your biggest fears.

But shockingly, he just shakes his head, his lips pink and plush and you’ve never found yourself focusing on them more than you are now.

If only you knew that he felt the same as he looked at you.

“No,” he stepped closer, if possible, but still had room to shove him away. But you didn’t, not now, you couldn’t, didn’t want to as his nose nudged yours a bit, your lashes fluttering against your cheek as your lips parted, waiting for him to do something,

“I’ll show you that I didn’t mean them.”

You couldn’t breathe, your lungs contracting as his face fell towards yours, your lips meeting ever so slowly as they finally landed on yours, soft and somehow delicate as they pushed against yours, finalizing the kiss as he began to move them.

You’ve never kissed anybody before, often dreaming about it as you lay in bed hopelessly in love, but never thought you’d be here from the man you’ve imagined on the other side doing it with him.

He moved slowly as if he knew that this was your first time, and you didn’t know how to handle your emotions as he angled his chin to get closer to you, his lips capturing you in such a heated and feverish pace that you knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep tonight as you thought back on it.

His hands slowly came up to your waist, tugging you flush against his body as your hands somehow found their way behind his neck, finger curling into his long strands of arctic white as he groaned against you when you tugged a bit, the sound coming from deep within his chest.

You were impatient, always have been, and it probably took him a little bit by surprise as you quickened the pace, hungry after so many years of starving for this as you pushed against him for more fervor, feeling him smile slightly against your lips as he met you in the middle, fingers digging into the fabric of your dress as you whined slightly as the feeling.

He nipped at your lips, his tongue poking out from in between yours, and you absentmindedly opened your mouth a little bit to make room for him, heart and mind working in tandem as he brought up a hand to cradle the back of your head, making sure it didn’t hit the wall as he pushed against you.

It was messy and hurried, and for once, it felt as if he felt the same you were feeling. As if he too wanted this, needed this more than air itself, and that thought alone made your mind stop functioning.

Your hands moved from his neck to his chest, fingers clutching onto the satin fabric of his suit, wrinkling the fabric as your noses bumped against each other, sheer desperation showing from the two of you.

“Viscount Gojo?”

The two of you almost jumped at the knock that sounded from the door.

“Your mother is asking where you are. She’s worried about the lady as well,” Fred didn’t peek his head in, and for that you were grateful. You were sure you looked like a total mess at the moment, but Satoru spoke, glancing at the door as he took a deep breath, almost as if it was his first time breathing in a couple of minutes.

“Tell her that we’re working things out. It’ll take a bit more time.” His voice sounded steady enough, but from where you were standing you could see how swollen his lips were, the fact that they were red and glistening with sweat. His hand on your waist tightened as if he didn’t want to let you go, and your hand lay flat against his chest.

“Of course,” Fred answered, “Take your time.” He shut the door completely, and the two of you waited until you heard his footsteps becoming softer and softer until you could no longer hear them.

You waited, looking in the direction for another second before you looked up at him only to see his eyes gauging yours for a reaction, somehow a storm going on behind them as he battled twenty different emotions.

“I’m still hurt Satoru,” you whisper, his eyes never changing but his shoulders tense a bit as you drop your hands away from him, as if you were suddenly coming to your senses and realizing what you had just done, “I can't forgive you this easily.”

You don’t know how to handle your feelings sometimes, and sometimes they catch up to you later than they should. You could still hear his words from that night ringing around your mind and nothing was stopping it no matter how hard you tried.

“Come get the letter when you’re ready to apologize with more than just your lips.”

You look back up at him one more time before you push away, feeling him lightly move away from you to give you space as you smooth out the front of your dress, touching your face to make sure that none of the makeup and powder that was swiped against your face wasn’t wrecked as you left.

You don’t look back as you left him silently in his room, shutting the door behind you as you stopped, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves as you went back down to dinner.

---

A week passed since your night with Satoru, and you’ve come to terms with the fact that he regrets it.

It hurts, it hurts even more when you convince yourself that he probably was trying to take pity on you and test how true his old words were, but you couldn’t spiral, knowing that it would cause even more turmoil.

Lily came by regardless, under the impression that you and her brother made up and are on better terms, and you're in no rush to tell her the truth of what happened.

She asked about the note, but you insisted that you couldn’t find it. She grumbled that he probably threw it away after she pestered him constantly about it.

“What about Lord Balfour?” She was sprawled out on your bed, her legs crossed resting it up against the wall with her head at the opposite end, looking on a piece of parchment in which she had gone around asking for men looking for marriage (and a true romantic connection, she stressed).

“Hm, too bald,” you said, sitting in your vanity, washing off the rest of the powder on your face as you dipped the soft cotton cloth back into the pitcher of water as you looked at her through the mirror, “Isn’t he a year younger than us?”

She pouted as she thought, looking back to her list as she crossed off that name.

“Count Alexei?” She seemed to like this one and you set your towel down, trying to place a face to the name.

“Isn’t he from Russia? Wouldn’t it be difficult for him to come back and forth?” You asked and she nodded, although she seemed more sad that you didn’t want him.

“Have you just gone around the ton asking if anybody’s looking for marriage?” You teased and she turned around, sitting up as she wiped the hair out of her face.

“I take your journey to find true love very serious,” she argued and you snorted, knowing that it was a kid if that and the fact that she liked judging the men of the higher class, “Are you complaining?”

“No, of course not.” You turn around from your chair as you face her, urging her to continue.

“Duke Cambell?” She looked up from the list with a raised brow, only to find you looking the same, taking more time to consider the name.

“He explicitly stated he’d consider marriage? With me?” You tilt your head to the side. Surely it would be too good to be true. He wasn’t too pretty, nobody was like Satoru, but he wasn’t that bad to look at either.

“He seemed quite eager about it, actually.” She said, and you smiled a bit, feeling like a silly schoolgirl with the way you ducked your head.

“He’s a bit shy, isn’t he?” You said with a little giggle and she snorted, nodding as she circled his name and put a question mark next to it.

“Just means he’s more apt to moan louder,” she said blandly and your mouth dropped, burrowing your face in your hands at her very open nature. Even after ten years it sometimes caught you off guard.

“Lily!” You shouted, trying to hold in your laugh, and she just looked at you as if you should have expected this as she rose from your bed, stretching her arms above her head as she let out a frantic yawn.

The sun had already set and she knew her mother would be expecting her to arrive soon, and you went to stand but stopped you.

“No need to stand, I’ll bid farewell from here.”

You rolled your eyes at her dramatics, picking up the cloth again as you dabbed at your cheeks.

“I assume you’ll be here tomorrow?” Crossing your legs as she shrugged as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

“Yes. In fact, I’ll leave this prized list with you so that you can mull it over,” she walked over a bit and set it down on the top of your vanity, looking at you as she put a solemn hand on your shoulder, “Do think over Count Alexis. He is rather dreamy.”

You chuckled, waving goodbye to her as she left the door with a litter thud, blowing kisses as you snorted at her exaggerated act, turning back around to your mirror as you wiped away the remaining bits of your makeup.

You were already in your dressing gown, the material soft and light on your skin as you set the cloth back down, drying your face off with another one as you got ready to sleep.

With meticulous care you took your earrings off and began to work on your necklace but struggled with the finicky clasp, your thumb slipping just as you were about to get it. You let out a quick groan of frustration, shutting your eyes as you tried not to lose your temper over a necklace.

“Do you need help with that?”

You were getting better at controlling your reactions, but your eyes snapped over to the top of your mirror as he stood there, shutting the door behind him. Your hands fell to your lap as you silently seethed.

Ella was never going to hear the end of it.

You said nothing and he quietly walked over to where you sat with your back to him, opting to look at him through your mirror as his slender fingers slowly came up to your neck.

“I’m getting rid of my maid.” You mutter eyes dropped to your lap as you try to control your breath as his fingertips touch your delicate skin, gingerly getting to work of undoing the clasp. He didn’t say anything and the only sound that filled the room was your slow little puffs of air, trying to get your pulse to stop from doing the strange rhythmic beating it always did when you were around him, as if he somehow became the conductor of your heart.

You heard a small click and the necklace became undone, and he gathered it in his palm as he set it down next to your little trinkets, dropping his hands from your shoulder as his cerulean eyes found yours once again, and you looked away, his deep stare burning through yours.

“Don’t,” his voice came out rough as if he hadn’t made much use of it for a while, “She’s always turned me away when I came asking for you. I weasled my way through her right now, almost blew my cover when Lily was leaving.”

Oh.

“I’m over it.” No, you weren’t, but you wouldn’t admit that out loud.

You opened up the drawer to the left of you, moving some little cases of jewelry around as you found the letter you had hidden away as you brought it out, setting it on the desk as you stood from your chair, pushing it back in as you faced him, “Take it. I didn’t read it.” Despite how much you wanted to, you just couldn’t bring yourself to stoop that low and read through something he didn’t want you to see.

He glanced over at the letter and then at you, taking the letter with careful movements as he found the letter opener scattered on your desk, ripping through the wax as he opened it up, passing the envelope back to you.

“Read it.”

You certainly weren’t expecting that.

“What?” You couldn’t blink, looking at his outstretched hand that held the very thing that had been bothering you as if it was nothing, “I don’t-”

“Go on,” he urged quietly, his voice caught in the back of his throat, “Read it out loud. Please.”

You looked at him once more to make sure he wasn’t going crazy before you gently took it from his hands, your fingers brushing past each other as you opened it up, taking out the letter as you unfolded it, taking a deep breath as you prepared yourself for the worst.

“I’m terrible at writing letters, you should know,” you start, squinting as you move closer to your candle so that you can read it better, “And you should know that I’ve written this twenty other times. I have-

“Twenty balled-up pieces of paper next to me,” Satoru finished the sentence, not looking at the letter once as he read it from memory, “If only you could see the mess,” he paused, his hands shaking a bit as he continued, “I apologize for not sending as many letters to you as I should, but aside from my travels which have proven to do nothing other than make me regret leaving, I only have one other thing left to tell you.

“I love you. I’m in love with you. I thought that it would do me some good to leave and get some time to think about how bad it would be if I said out loud that I was in love with the girl who’s my sister's best friend, but I’ve simply gone mad over needing to see you again. I’m in Paris, which is coincidentally the city of love but I’ve grown bitter and resentful over the fact that the woman I love is an ocean away from me. I can’t do it anymore. No, scratch that, no, I can’t do this other letter…”

“...It’s too pathetic. You’re worth more than this.” You concluded, reading along because you couldn’t be yourself to look up at him, knowing that you simply would break apart and couldn’t take it as you heard the three words you’ve wanted to hear from the man that you never thought would say them.

You looked at the paper, eyes scanning each word again as you let out a heavy sigh, feeling like you were living in a dream that was wrapping its arms slowly around you and whisking you away.

“That night, I projected. I don’t know why I said what I said, I just know that thinking it over told me everything I needed to know and I acted like a coward and a fool and I hurt you when really, I love you. I love you, I’ve never stopped. I burn for you, and I always will.” He whispered, his eyes wet with unshed tears as he cleared his throat, wiping at his nose as he sniffled.

You’ve never seen him like this, exposed and raw. But you knew that you mirrored his emotions, knew that you were in the same state that he was for he carefully brought his hand up to your cheek, wiping a tear away as he cupped your face in his hands.

“I know that it would be too much to ask for your forgiveness, but please, I don’t know how much longer I can go without at least seeing your face, hearing your voice, your laugh, you’re kind, kind heart.” His hands trailed down your face, down your arms, and your waist, settling on your hips as he ducked his head downward, tears sliding down the curve of his nose as he did something unexpected.

The Viscount Gojo Satoru began to kneel.

You froze, looking down in shock as he bowed his head in shame and apology.

“‘Toru, please, I,” your voice broke and you quickly wiped your tears away, taking his hands that were sprawled out across your waist as you held them, not knowing how to handle this display of vulnerability as you gently made him look up at you, “Just tell me one thing.”

His thumb caressed the back of your hand, giving a soft nod as he whispered; “anything,” and his hand moved up your waist, holding your back as your hands unknowingly went to his hair, moving it away from his face as your fingers twirled and played with his white strands, basking in the sense of having him at his knees for you.

“Why did you wait so long to come back?” Your voice is barely audible as it cracks, a year of missing him and ten years of longing for him coming out as he shakes his head, almost as if he was more remorseful about it than you could ever imagine, and he shifted so that he wasn’t resting on his ankles anymore, digging deep into his pocket as he brought out a little box.

“I went back to Japan. I was trying to find this little ring my father gave my mother back when he started to pine after her,” he opened up the box, a delicately cut blue diamond rind resting on a thin gold band stared back at you, shining in the candlelight, “I wanted to give it to you as a promise…” and he trailed off, a blush spreading across his cheeks as he suddenly became a bit embarrassed, pocketing the box again as he looked back up at you.

“What was the promise?” You can barely hear your words over the thumping of your heart.

He swallows, slowly coming to standing back up, never losing his hold on you, clutching onto your thin nightgown as if it was the only thing grounding him to reality.

“That I’d marry you one day.” He whispered back, his voice hushed as if he didn’t want them to escape the vicinity of your room, this shared space between the two of you in which you stripped each other bare to the soul, only the find that they longed to be in each other's place even when they were miles apart.

Just as he did so many nights ago, he leaned closer to you, giving you time and space to push him away, to yell, to scream, but you didn’t, nudging his nose with yours as your lips found each other, this time quick and rough and not wanting to be patient because there was no room for such a thing.

He let out a small groan as you tugged on the hairs at the back of his nape, pushing you further down until your back hit one of your windows, feeling the cool night air from the glass as it traveled through the thin cotton of your slip

It seemed like something in him was finally let go, and you as well, and everything came tumbling down in the best way possible.

It was so messy and rushed and desperate that you felt like you were going to faint, the air from your lungs being stolen by his hungry and greedy lips as he pushed back roughly against you, needing to taste you, feel you, or else he simply wouldn’t make it.

Satoru tapped the back of your thighs, urging you to wrap your legs around his torso as you pulled away slightly, questioning him as he scoffed at your doubt.

“I spent a year getting bigger and stronger for you,” he murmurs against your lips, “and the first thing you said when you saw me was oh. Come on,” he nipped at your lips, his boyish and charming smile growing when you whimpered, “Test me out.”

You gave in, standing on your toes as you did what he asked, and you let out a little laugh of surprise at how he wasted no time wrapping his arms tightly around your waist as he smirked, going away from the ball as he led you to your bed, basking in the sound of your twinkling laughter as you admired him in all his glory.

“I shouldn’t have doubted you,” you tease and he snorts, fixing your gown as he hovers above you. He was huge, so much bigger than you anticipated in your imagination, but it was so much better than you ever could have thought.

“I’d never lie to you,” he promised, pressing another chaste kiss to your lips that left you breathless as he continued downwards, pressing kisses down your jaw, and your neck, spending time as he sucked at one of your vital points, enjoying the way you sounded like you had run a marathon.

He looks stunning here; his lips look bruised and swollen, pink and wet with spit. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of your body, and if you weren’t crazy about how he looked at you, you would’ve shielded yourself away in embarrassment.

But he didn’t give you any time to think it over, pushing past your loose nightgown as he pressed delicate pecks to your shoulders and upper chest region, looking up at you to make sure it was okay to continue.

You quickly nodded, eager to see what he was going to do.

“Mind if I take this off?” He asks, tugging at the ends of it as you look at him from beneath your lashes, trying to feel indifferent as you shrug, but the way you smile giddily gives away just how badly you want him to.

“I wouldn’t mind.” You help him move it upwards, your arms coming out from the sleeves as the chilly air hits your naked skin, and you suddenly realize just how out in the open you are compared to him.

Out of second nature, you go to cover your chest but he tsks, gently pushing your hands away as he eyes your breasts, looking like he had just come back from staring at the sistine chapel with the way he looks at you.

Your nipples harden from how cold it was, and he slowly dips his head down to one of your tits, kissing the soft and supple skin as he inches closer to your bud, finally latching his mouth onto it as you throw your head back, arching your back into his lips as he sucks like his life depends on it.

“S-shit, ‘Toru, so good,” you mewl, wrapping your hands around his neck as he flattens his tongue against your nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive area as you whine even louder, not seeming to care if anybody outside your door could hear.

His other hand lathes onto your other one, not wanting to leave her unattended as he pinches your nipple between his two fingers, twisting it just enough to make you shut your eyes at how good the attention feels.

“Let me hear you,” he groans into your skin, looking up at you as you try to cover up your mouth with your hand, “I’ll stop if you cover up that pretty mouth of yours.”

You simply nod, leaving your shaky hand to grip your bed sheets as he switches his mouth and hand with each other, giving you different sensations to wrap your hands around as you feel a deep part of your pulse, needing more of him.

“‘Toru, please,” your voice comes out shaky as he releases your tit with a pop, his hands going down to hold onto your hips as you bring his chin up for another kiss of swapping spit with him, growing to appreciate the lewdness of it all as you lay feather light kisses on his jawline, feeling him shudder beneath you, “Wan’ more.”

At any other time, he would have drawn this out, would have teased and prodded at you to use your words, to tell him where you needed him most, but he couldn’t wait with you, wanting to have a taste of you himself.

So his wolfish grin comes back, his hand traveling down your stomach, stopping just above your mound as he cocks a brow at the way you seem to grow impatient, reaching the place you seemed to have in mind.

“Here?” He asked quietly, his pointer finger moving to find your clit as you let out a quiet gasp, his expert fingers having nothing on your inexperienced ones. Sure you’ve touched yourself deep into the night when you made sure everybody was asleep, but it never felt like this.

You couldn’t speak, so you nodded again, and that seemed to be good enough for Satoru as his finger moved down to your lips, a deep groan coming from within his chest as he felt how wet you were, and prodded his finger at your tight walls, slowly pushing past them as he seemed to be in a trance.

You sucked him in so delightfully, pulsing against his as your slick stained his finger, making it easier for him to fuck you with a little bit more pace, careful not to hurt you, as he brought it back up to circle at your clit, trying to find what places you liked to be teased most.

“O-oh my god,” your eyes rolled back in your head as his long find pushed back against your gummy walls, his other thumb finding your nub as you whined even louder, not used to feeling this good, spreading your legs out even further as you tried to make room for him.

“There you go, s’perfect,” he said against your skin, dipping down as he moved a hand to keep your thighs further apart, “Mind if I have a taste?” And you were in another dimension, just cradling his neck as you pushed him to go further.

He chuckled darkly, nearly going insane as he neared your glistening pussy, eyes growing dark as he moved his fingers away so that his tongue could have its turn, and you swore you almost came right there.

He licked gingerly, savoring you first as he groaned, his thumb never giving up on circling and massaging your clit, but he began to eat you out as his life depended on it, licking and sucking like you were his last meal.

“‘Toru, ‘Toru, fuck!” You screamed, biting your lip harshly as you kept your finger tight around his hair, “Don’t stop, please!”

“F-fuck,” he murmured, coming up for a quick breath as he looked at you from his long white lashes, “Fucking kill me if I ever stop, okay?”

He goes back in with the same amount of fervor, your chest moving up and down as you arch into his mouth, your jaw going slack as you quickly feel that rope in your stomach tightening, embarrassed at coming so early but knowing that there was no way you could stop yourself with the way he fingered you out at the same time he ate you out.

“I’m yours,” he said against your skin, “I’ll always be yours.” It was out of place, but it seemed like he was branding it into your skin so that everybody else knew, knew that he belonged solely to you.

It was too much, and you felt like you were slowly losing your ability to think, talk, or do anything, and the only thing you could feel was him, and you felt it all coming to a crescendo as his mouth latched onto your clit, letting it all go as you came into his mouth.

“‘M c-coming, mmmm fuck!” You couldn’t even believe the sounds you were making as you clenched around his finger, your essence coating his chin and hand as your legs were trembling, glad that he held a stable hand on your waist.

You saw white for a couple of seconds, taking even longer to catch your breath, your tits rising and falling with each heave, and you suddenly felt like you came back down to earth, peeking out from an eye to see Satoru smiling down at you, his face soft and you whined in shock at what just happened, hiding your face into one of your pillows as he laughed lowly, the sound dripping down your ears like warm honey.

“You just came around me, no need to be modest now.” He gently moved your face away from the sanctuary of your pillow so that you could look at him again, and he leaned down, pressing one final kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself on him as you let out a muffled moan.

“How do you feel?” He asked as he pulled away, sitting on his haunches, letting you drape the blanket around your sweaty chest as you tried to sit up, shaking a bit as you tried to recover from your mind-breaking orgasm.

“Good,” you say groggily, wiping at your eyes as you give him a lazy, languid smile, “Really good.”

“Yeah?” He asks, chuckling as you nod, finding his hands as you play with his long fingers, and he lets you watch as you let them entangle with each other, somehow feeling more connected through this than the previous activity as you slowly pull him back down towards you, wanting nothing more than to curl into his chest.

“Give me a second love,” he wanted the same thing, but he pulled away, “Let me clean you up.”

You didn’t fight it and let him go, watching as he found the pitcher of water on your desk as he found a clean rag and wet it, coming back to your bed until his eyes caught something under the sheets.

He picked it up, reading it as he sat down next to you, running the cold towel across your thighs as you let out a little whimper at the temperature. He pressed an apologetic kiss to your forehead as he turned the paper around in silent questioning.

Your eyes widened, trying to take it away but he held it above your head. If you had more fight in you, you might have wrestled for it, but you gave up, letting him clean you up as he tried not to laugh at how measly it was.

“I doubt Cambell would know how to make you come.” He finally says, throwing the rag away somewhere as you groan, pushing his face slowly away as you try to fight the giddy laugh that was going to bubble its way from your chest.

“Stop! Lily was just trying to help!” You argue and he waves his hands, loosening the buttons of his tunic as he crawls in next to you, pulling you flush against him as he kisses the tip of your nose.

“It’s fine love,” he nestles his nose in your hairline, smiling when you hitch a leg over his, “You’re mine now.”

You look up at him, tracing over his features with the light touch of your fingertips as he leans into your warmth.

“Do you promise?”

He gives a single nod, sliding the delicate ring over your finger, and closes his hand around yours.

“Promise.”

3K notes · View notes

winterzsurprise · 1 year ago

Text

Peaches and Cream || Miguel O'hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x f!reader

Summary: There's a stark difference with how your husband and Miguel treats you, starting with how rough the latter can be.

Tags: SMUT, NOT BETA READ, unprotected sex, rough sex, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, spanking, pussy slapping (once), fluff (?), jealous!Miguel, Miguel has a big dick.

Words: 2.2k

I got distracted from writing domestic Miguel after he replaced the dad!Miguel after he got shot. This is shit, my apologies I'll do better and add more flavor next time, promiseee. Title is from the song I was listening to the whole time by Noah Davis.

I don't know how to navigate tumblr as a second blog but thank you to all your comments, reblogs and likes, it really does motivate me to write more and better stuff. Also thank you to two blogs for putting me in their recommendations! I made it guys :''DD!!

cariño - honey || mi vida - my life || mi amor - my love || hermosa - beautiful || pobrecita - poor thing (correct me on this one please) || calladita - quietly (thank you sm @eminenceplant for this)

There's a stark difference between your husband and the man hovering above you like a predator about to pounce.

Your husband's hands were soft and loving as it caressed and wandered your body as he peppered kisses down from your neck and to your inner thigh. All of his gestures are a sweet concoction of loving and adoration.

Whilst Miguel's touch was desperate, territorial as he clawed down your flesh, human nails digging into your thighs and breasts as he left a trail of purple bruises around your neck, collarbones before stopping to nip at your hip bone. Everything he does is animalistic, deprived and hungry as if he hasn't eaten for centuries.

His red eyes were clouded with dark lust, glinted with something carnal, even feral, in the dark that got your spine tingling with anticipation.

To see and feel his perpetual desperation for your skin, your scent and desire for your touch had your pride piercing the heavens. To be wanted as he does like you're the air he breathes is dizzying and you can't help but want more.

It's exhilarating, addicting even.

It hasn't been long since you found yourself in love with another version of your husband, yet you grew to crave more of him as seconds ticked by.

Miguel's muscled arms curled around your thighs, forcing them open before pulling you flush to his face with a surprising strength. A pleased sigh escaped your lips as his hot breath fans over your pubic bone, hand falling to knot onto his hair and tugging him closer.

You soon realised why he paused on top of your mound as he inhaled you in, immediately your cheeks flamed.

"You smell heavenly, baby. So wet for me as well, makes me want to taste you."

You bite your bottom lip, nodding urgently as you tug him closer and he clicks his tongue.

"Hermosa, I need your words."

"Please darling? I'll be nice I swear, eat me out please."

Miguel doesn't need to be told twice, dipping his tongue onto your dripping folds. Your back arched at the sensation, after months of no intimacy following the change in your husband, your arousal lit your nerve endings ablaze.

His left hand that was digging into your flesh then reached to splay itself onto your abdomen, pinning you to the mattress as his tongue flicked your clit with a firm pace.

With every flicker of his appendage, hot pleasure rockets into your stomach, body growing feverish as pressure builds up inside your abdomen.

As if sensing your orgasm from the hitch of your breath alone, his right arm unwinds from your thigh to trail down to your fluttering entrance, caressing the rim so sweetly it hurts.

"Miguel please."

He ignored you, focusing on suckling on your clit with a reawakened fervor. You tugged onto his hair, hard enough for it to hurt, for him to listen to your pleas yet he only grunted, sending ample vibrations to quake your bones.

"Beg for it nicely, cariño. I want to hear you beg for me."

"I want your fingers in me, please! Miguel, baby, I want to feel you in me, please."

He groaned, it rumbled in his chest before sending shockwaves down your spine. Then he shoved two of his thick fingers inside you and you jerked. The burn of being breached got your blood buzzing as it mixed with the pleasure his tongue gave you.

If your husband was gentle with his fingers, inserting them one by one with utmost care, Miguel is everything he stands against.

His fingers immediately found a punishing pace, plunging in and out of you whilst curling up to touch the spongy spot in your walls. Encouraged by his digits, his tongue grew frantic as it sucked and flicked your clit rapidly, driving you closer and closer to your precipice. You opened your mouth to scream but it was caught short by his other hand clamping over your lips.

"Calladita, you're going to wake Gabriella up."

Miguel's gaze burns your face as he brings you pleasure atop pleasure with every thrust and lick .

To see your eyes roll back and your chest rise as you arch, the greedy monster claws at his neck, wanting for more reactions.

Bet her husband had also made her this way...

An ugly head reared out of the back of his brain, whispering taunts into his ears and reaching around with its rotten hands to blind his eyes.

With the bitter realization, his fingers pistoned in and out of you with a punishing pace, the heel of his palm slamming into your engorged clit as a pathetic wet squelch echoed in the room. The sudden change in pace got you writhing, your mewls muffled by his hand.

"So fucking wet for me, hermosa. Tell me, do you get this turned on for your husband?"

You didn't respond and that seemed to anger him, pulling his fingers out and cutting off the intoxicating thrum of heat in your veins and you whined, displeased. Hearing this, he brought his hand down for a firm slap onto your clit.

"Fuck…"

"You don't get to react, mi amor."

He sat up, pushing down his sweatpants along with his boxers and his erection stands, slapping against his stomach. Your eyes immediately caught the dribbles of pre-cum pulsing out of his tip and your tongue grew heavy, hand reaching out to grab onto his dick.

Miguel, in more ways than one, is bigger than your husband. Your hand barely closed up around his length and dread loomed over you. He's about to ruin you, mind and body, with this dick.

Fuck, will this fit in me?

"You're so big."

He chuckled darkly, fingers pinching your chin. "No, your husband's just lacking, hermosa."

You should've been angered by his comment but you couldn't find it in yourself to reprimand him for it. Instead, you find yourself flustered at his confidence.

"On your knees."

As if hypnotized, you followed despite the disappointment rumbling inside you for not being able to pleasure him.

You pushed yourself off of the mattress to turn but he was quicker, ever the impatient man that he is, his large hand splayed between your shoulder blades and pinned you to the cushion, forcing you to present your ass up at him.

"Darling? I really don't think it'll fit."

A resonating slap echoed in the room as he swatted your ass and you whimpered, body lurching away before strong arms dragged you back under him.

"You can and you will. I will make sure of it."

His cockhead poked your entrance and a thrill slithered down your spine. You looked down to your pussy, watching with rapt attention as he dragged himself up and down your folds.

The sight of his disheveled self with his head thrown back and mouth agape to let out groans made you shiver. How could someone look so attractive?

Miguel soon pushed in, the head of his dick immediately lodging into your small hole, stretching you wide as he slowly inserted more of his inches. The sting it brought got you gasping and grabbing tight onto the sheets, already feeling full to the brim with barely half of him in.

"Fuck, you're so tight for me. Pobrecita… your husband must've never fucked you wide open before."

Just when you thought it was done, he continued to push more of him. Your head grows light, pleasure shocking all your nerve endings awake from your legs and to the tip of your toes.

He didn't even let you rest, already pulling back and you almost shot up to grab him, scared he'd leave you hanging but Miguel left his cockhead in before thrusting all of his inches back in with one fluid motion and your mouth fell agape.

"Fuck…! Miguel please!"

"What a greedy girl. Don't worry baby, I'll treat you well tonight."

If his slow thrust already had your mind fuzzy from the pain of the stretch and pleasure, his callous and frenzied pace got you praying as he released shockwaves after shockwaves of bliss to shatter your bones and down to your trembling legs.

You barely had the mind to bite onto the sheet to muffle your cry as he drove manically behind you.

Seeing this, Miguel grew displeased. Despite knowing the reason for your actions, he wanted to hear how well he fucks you. It was childish trying to outdo someone he'd never encounter again but his pride is bruised.

That fucker got the chance to devour and have you pliant and panting under him for decades while he withered back in his lab trying to get rid of his unwanted addiction.

The bastard has ingrained himself into your body for years and he can't have that.

There should only be one man you should think about at night and be reminded of when you sit to feel the soreness rendering your lower body boneless.

"I'm gonna install noise suppressors in our room tomorrow then you'd be free to scream my name whenever you like, mi vida. You know how I love it when you cry for me."

You didn't say anything but instead nodded frantically. Fire licked every inch of your skin as the familiar tightness in your abdomen appeared, lightning shooting up your spine with every savage thrusts.

There was nothing else you could think of, focused on reaching your deserved nirvana and desperately shaking your hips to meet his thrust. Seeing how fucked and blissed out you were, Miguel groaned before swatting the globes of your ass, pulling a mewl from you.

"Look at you, so cock drunk for me. So beautiful… It makes me wanna tease you a little."

Feeling your orgasm being torn away as he slows, you whine and reach back to grab his hips, forcing him to piston in and out of you with a mewl. Miguel watched you with heavy lidded eyes, he has never seen such a sinful yet delicious sight until now.

If there was a scene he could ingrain into the back of his eyelids, this would be it.

You, so desperate for a release and trying to chase it when he refused to. Eyes glazed with tears of frustration as you gave up trying to control his hips and bucked your hips like a madwoman into his dick.

There's no such thing as guilt when he got to witness you in such a vulnerable state, only gratefulness.

"Mi cielo, please! Move, I want to come so bad please…!"

He had a different plan for the evening but if you begged so sweetly like that, there's nothing he wouldn't give you.

A house, a new ring with the biggest gemstone you love, the world, the universe or something as simple as a climax becomes acquirable if you want them so badly, he'd give it all to you.

"Anything for you, cariño."

Despite the callousness of his touch driven with wanderlust and desperation to the point of passionate worshiping, Miguel differs from your husband by being love-starved and his brimming confidence in pleasing you a hundred ways before tomorrow without breaking a sweat.

A welcomed and fresh change nonetheless, the difference only led you to fall deeper in love with him.

He drove his dick back into you with a fresh yet ravenous pace, pulling back till his cockhead remains before plunging all of himself in. Miguel's nails dug deep into your flesh enough to make you fear for a permanent dent in them.

Your skin flared as the coil in your stomach reawakened, tightening further and further with every thrust. The warmth is maddening yet deliciously addictive as it lashes out, wrapping around your swelling heart.

"Let me come please? I want it please…! Ah!"

He leant down while his hand reached down to roll your clit in tight eights, decreasing his pace yet hitting deeper as he swept the hair behind your ear before tugging it hard.

"Give it to me, mi vida. I want it all, come around me."

With his proximity and whispered command, there was nothing else you could do but burst.

Ecstasy easily drowns you as it floods your senses, white hot pleasure exploding behind your eyelids as you screamed into the sheets. Your orgasm rippled through you, shimmying under your skin and turning your limbs useless as they grew light.

There's nothing else you could call what you were feeling except 'heavenly'.

With the constant pulse of your velvet walls clamping down on him, Miguel soon followed with a deep resonating groan to his annoyance, painting your insides white with his liquid arousal.

It was a wonder he lasted this long after having only his hands to entertain him for years in the laboratory and spider hub. Nonetheless, he has his life to spend with you, years where he could discover and evoke your deepest desires.

Placing gentle kisses on your shoulders, he grinned. "Te amo cariño."

"I love you more…" You mumbled back, exhaustion weighing your eyelids. You barely picked up his clicking tongue before he spoke up, sounding determined as if it was set in stone.

"No sleeping, mi vida. We're not done yet, I have months to make up, no?"

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader one shot #marvel fics #marvel smut #spiderman smut #spiderman fics #astv miguel #astv fanfic

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juyeonszn · 1 year ago

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BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT

THE TBZ FRAT HOUSE IS HOSTING THE BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT COLLAB BY @juyeonszn AND @itsbeeble!

YOU’RE INVITED!

PAIRING tbz x f!reader

GENRES smut ﹒fluff ﹒minimal angst ﹒crack

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! mature language, mentions of alcohol, sexual content, more warnings per individual fic!

SUMMARY have you ever wondered what your favorite frat boyz are up to in their personal lives? if so, then these fics are just for you! join us as we take a glimpse into the tau beta zeta fraternity and see what they get up to in their free time!

MORE LETS GAURRRRR i’m so excited to announce this collab with loml reese both as a cute fun little idea we had and in celebration of her 1 year tumblr anniversary! we also realized it happened to be the same day as tbz day LOL so that’s kinda crazy 😭 my boyz have been here for 6 years wow 💔 anyways i hope all of u love these as much as we do! and always, don’t forget to rb if u enjoyed!! send an ask if u’d like to be tagged in these <3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies

FALL SEMESTER

TRY HARD — LEE JUYEON (12/6)

Need to get rid of some junk? Well these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited time offer)

EXCITEMENT — JI CHANGMIN (12/6)

You know, when you told your girl friends that you’d never finished before, you were expecting it to blow over like no big deal. What you weren’t expecting was for it to spiral into a whole other mess.

SEEING STARS — KIM SUNWOO (12/10)

It’s slightly embarrassing how Sunwoo is naive enough to take Eric Sohn’s “advice” to heart. Luckily, you like idiots. Especially when they kick a ball into your face and agree to do a semester’s worth of school work for you.

CLUMSY — JU HAKNYEON (12/10)

When Haknyeon ran into you at a TBZ party for the first time, he didn’t think he would fall for you so quickly. Or literally. Or both simultaneously. But there’s a first time for everything, he supposes.

“FRIENDLY” COMPETITION — LEE SANGYEON (12/14)

The TBZ frat had always had a rivalry with the KAT sorority. At least, they did when you and Sangyeon became the presidents three years ago. What happens when you mix a little friendly competition into this rivalry of yours?

JE NE SAIS QUOI — JACOB BAE (12/14)

Jacob thought the concept of fraternities was stupid. So stupid that despite every single one of his friends being in one, he still refused to join. However, after meeting you at one of the TBZ parties, he’s starting to think maybe they’re not that horrible.

SPRING SEMESTER

LET LOOSE — KIM YOUNGHOON (12/19)

Younghoon has hated you. He thought you were stuck up with that better-than-you princess attitude of yours. What better than to just…fuck it right out of you?

(NO) STRINGS ATTACHED — LEE HYUNJAE (12/19)

Becoming friends with Lee Hyunjae after his valiant attempt to save your life (stopping you from drunk driving) was certainly not on your year’s bingo card. Also not on your bingo card? Waking up in his bed every other night following, but it’s not like you’re really complaining.

NO BITCHES? — ERIC SOHN (12/22)

When you met Eric, you’d thought he was just another frat boy, looking to get into any woman’s pants (particularly yours at that moment). You never would’ve thought that he was just a loser who really liked FNAF and just thought you were pretty.

PARTY O’CLOCK — CHOI CHANHEE (12/22)

In spite of being a frat boy himself, Chanhee could never actually see himself enjoying the luxuries of the title. Besides, how could he with all the responsibilities of being treasurer? Enter you and your carefree spirit and Chanhee’s got a real big problem on his hands.

PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER — KEVIN MOON (PT. 1 1/1, PT. 2 1/3)

It wasn’t like you and Kevin hated each other. In fact, you quite admired him despite his somewhat indifferent attitude toward you. Well, now that you’re paired up for the last dance of the year, you guess it’s the perfect time to find out why.

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berry-potchy · 1 year ago

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Indulge Me

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader Rating: Explicit (18+ only please) Word Count: 7,072 Summary: You're a Spiderwoman who has ended up pinned underneath Miguel O'Hara in his lab one too many times. You're not sure what you are to him or what to call your relationship. And that would've been fine until your neediness kicked in and made you catch feelings. Surely, Miguel taking you to his room for the first time means something right? In which your lack of understanding of Spanish and denial of the hints Miguel drops are keeping you from realizing you already have what you want. Tags/warnings: pwp, p in v sex, rough sex, praise + light degradation, multiple orgasms and overstimulation, face sitting/riding, breeding kink, soft dom!Miguel, needy reader, recording, mirror sex adjacent, implied chubby reader, undefined relationship but soft feelings sprinkled in there as a treat, no use of y/n so lots of Spanish nicknames to make up for it, reader does not understand Spanish, brief sexy use of spider webs A/N: this is quite literally just a self-indulgent fic with most of my favorite Miguel x reader flavors. Not beta read but I hope you still enjoy it! (Translations are the end!)

Also on AO3

Edit: turns out some parts got messed up while I was posting here on Tumblr D: it's fine on AO3 though which is weird because I copied from this post instead of my doc because this has the correct spacing. Everything should be fixed now.

•🕷️────✧˖°˖🕸️˖°˖✧────🕷️•

Miguel has you standing in front of him between his parted legs as he sits on the edge of his bed. Even in this position, you were barely any much taller than him, only needing to tilt your head a bit to meet his red eyes. He looks at you from your face, down to the swell of your breast where his eyes are joined by a taloned finger on its journey downwards. You can’t help but let out a soft sigh as the sharp talon cuts through your spandex suit, fully exposing your soft chest to the cold air of his quarters. He would argue that the stretchy translucent mesh with a spiderweb lace design on your chest area didn’t do shit to cover the fullness of your tits anyway so he didn't understand why you even bothered with it. It was for style obviously but riling up Miguel O’Hara was a great bonus. You let out a shaky breath as he continued further down until he stopped right below your navel.

“Que linda,” he says in that low sexy voice of his, very different from the usual grumpy tone he uses to chastise you. He snakes his arms around your hips, bringing you closer to him and his hands find your plush bottom, giving them a rough squeeze. You are getting so worked up by how much attention you are getting from your usually sulky boss. Your heaving chest is right in front of Miguel’s face and his lustful gaze almost feels like it is burning you. The heat spreads from your chest downwards until it pools in the pit of your stomach and between your legs.

“You ruined my suit,” you pout, not really that upset about it. You think it was hot honestly but you just want to tease him “Am I supposed to go on missions with my whole chest out now? Walk around the HQ flashing everyone?”

“Of course not,” he says, rolling his eyes. He continues to take in your figure, hands gently kneading soft flesh on your sides “I’m making you a new suit. Should be done very soon. It'll be the same design but it will offer far more protection than this flimsy thing.”

“Making me a suit just like yours? What so you can control it hm? Deactivate it whenever you want to fuck me?” You laugh, wiping the imaginary tear in your eye until you realize Miguel is silent and looks like he’s been caught red-handed. You lightly slap him on his arm, flustered. “You’re a pervert, you know that?”

Instead of answering you, he brings his head forward to close his lips on a clothed nipple, his tongue flicking the sensitive erect bud. Your mouth opens as you let out a soft gasp at the sensation and you can feel the corner of Miguel’s lips twitch into a slight smirk. He teases your nipple alternating between flicking it with the tip of his tongue and giving it an audible suck. He pulls away for a split second only to give the same attention to your other nipple. You weave your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to your tits. Your other hand is holding onto his shoulder for support as you urge him to keep going with your whimpers. His hands haven’t stopped exploring your body. His wide hands warm against your hips, ass, thighs, everywhere he can touch, squeezing your softness, committing every curve to memory.

“Migueeeel,” you whine, rubbing your thighs together to try to relieve the ache between your legs. You appreciate the attention to your nipples but your cunt was throbbing with need. You are so close to ripping the rest of your suit and panties off because the way the fabric is sticking to your wet pussy is becoming too uncomfortable.

“Miguel what, muñeca?” He pulls away, licking his lips. Those red eyes are now looking straight into yours and you feel yourself shiver. You try to look away but Miguel grabs your chin to keep you facing him. “Eyes on me. What do you want? Use your words.”

“Please,” your cheeks burn in embarrassment but Miguel just raised an eyebrow at you, unamused. “Stop teasing please.”

“Ah I see okay,” he says, taking his hands off you before standing up and walking to his closet.

“W-wait what are you doing?” you almost trip on your feet, knees feeling weak, as you chase after him. You grab his arm, tugging at it to get his attention as you pathetically look up at him.

“You said stop teasing so I’m getting you a shirt so you can go back to your world and get some rest,” he says as he looks through the neatly folded shirts in his closet. He’s stalling, pretending he was trying to choose one but he’s messing with you. There is no way he would let you go home tonight without getting at least a couple of orgasms wrung out of you. You aren’t leaving until he made sure you were stuffed full and dripping with his cum. You aren’t leaving tonight. Period. He knew you were too far gone with lust to figure that out yourself.

“Miggy, that’s not what I meant please,” you sob, pressing your body against him. Just the thought of being left unsatisfied was painful. “Please, Miggy, I need your mouth. And your cock please”

He finally looks at you and pulls you closer to him by your waist. You run your hands along his still clothed chest, feeling his heart beating with yours. You look up at him with glassy eyes, begging him to finish what he started. He coos at how desperate you were for release.

“You want my mouth and my cock?” he hums, still teasing. He easily lifts you up with one arm supporting your ass to carry you back to his bed. He’s carried you multiple times before but it never ceases to amaze you how he does it so effortlessly. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, hips bucking trying to get some friction against your still unfortunately clothed cunt. “Where do you want them, muñeca? You have to be more specific. Which one do you want first?”

“On my pussy, please. I need your mouth on my pussy. Miggy, I wanna cum on your face” you sobbed against his neck “And then- and then I want you to fuck me. I want you to fill me up with your cock. Only you can fill me up so good, Miggy. I need it.”

“Good girl,” he whispers right next to your ear, making you shudder “Now, was that so hard to do? Was it hard to tell me what you wanted?”

“Yes!” you bite his shoulder and you feel satisfaction when you hear him break character and snort. He shakes his head, smiling fondly while he sets you down on the bed.

"Qué voy a hacer contigo?" he brings his lips to your temple to whisper more softly "Qué haría sin ti?"

Your heart skips a beat at the gentleness of his tone. You’re not sure what he said but the genuine affection is evident. Intimate moments like this with Miguel are slowly becoming more and more frequent and you decide that you don’t mind it. You even crave it now. A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as you lean further toward him.

He pulls away but the fond look on his face doesn’t waver. He slaps your thigh, making the soft fat jiggle just how he likes it, as he moves to get settled in his bed.

“Put those lovely hips and thighs to use and ride my face, conejita.” He lies down, anticipating, patting his chest to encourage you to sit down.

You didn't need to be told twice. You rip off the rest of your suit, your heated skin meeting the cold air of his room making your nipples pebble painfully. You quickly take off your panties and toss them aside with your ruined suit. You squeal as you scramble to get on top of him. You position yourself on top of his waiting mouth, straddling his face but just hovering over his face, hands on the headboard to keep yourself steady. The smell of your arousal is almost too much for Miguel to bear at this proximity. The urge to lock you in his room for the next few days and not let you out until you’re thoroughly fucked and bred is getting hard to ignore. His fangs extend as his animalistic urges surface, yearning to bite you and mark you as his.

“Are you trying to tease me now? How can you ride my face if you don’t sit?” Miguel’s tone is deeper than it was just a second ago. There’s a certain roughness to it, a growl in his voice that makes your hole clench around nothing. He grips your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh, waiting for you to sit down or he’ll make you. He’s trying to be patient, turning his head a little to mouth at the fat of your inner thigh. He licks a stray trail of your slick up your thigh, stopping just a breath away from where you both want his mouth to be. You feel him sigh, savoring your taste like he just drank the finest nectar, a promise of what’s to come.

“But Miguel–” you yelp when he suddenly pulls you down by your thighs and you immediately feel his tongue lapping at your aching cunt, his nose bumping deliciously against your swollen clit. He wasn’t going to hear your excuses. The only things he wants to hear coming out of your pretty lips are your moans and whines for more. The way Miguel is sucking and devouring your wetness so eagerly makes your head spin and your grip on the headboard tighten to steady yourself for a moment. He teases your hole, licking around the small opening before plunging in as far as he can, feeling you clench around his tongue. He grows impatient at your lack of movement and starts rocking you back and forth on his face by himself. He flattens his tongue for you to grind your pretty folds onto.

“Miggy, feels so good,” you whine, bending over to look at him from under you. He’s so pretty like this, forehead scrunched up from how focused he is eating you out, and when you get a peak of his nose and his cheeks, they’re shiny from being soaked by a combination of your wetness and his own spit. You take one of your shaking hands off the headboard to brush the hair away from Miguel’s forehead only for him to guide your hand into a fist, grabbing his hair, urging you to use it as leverage to ride his face harder. And who are you to say no to that?

You move your hips to try to match the pace he set for you, your thighs burn but you pay it no mind. Not when you feel that familiar delicious knot forming in your core. Your head lolls to the side and your eyes screwed shut as you immerse in the pleasure, grinding your cunt harder on Miguel’s tongue, nose, chin, anywhere you can get some friction, getting desperate to reach your orgasm.

“‘M gonna cum, Miggy. Gonn’ cum on your face” you whimper. You take your hand off the headboard and bring it to your tits, squeezing them, pinching at rubbing circles on your pebbled nipples. Miguel doesn’t stop lapping hungrily at your pussy, shaking his head from side to side as much as your grip on his hair allows. He groans as he watches in awe as you chase your own pleasure.

So close.

You’re so close you swear you can almost taste it.

Miguel could tell from how your hips stuttered and your pace growing frantic, rougher. He gives your clit another suck and that finally pushes you over the edge.

You feel the sweet release consume you like wildfire, your body tensing, back arching, toes curling. You can’t even hear yourself scream Miguel’s name, curling into yourself as he continues to suck on your oversensitive, pulsating clit. His hands held your shaking thighs steady, not letting you close them. It’s all too much.

“Miggyyy,” you sob pathetically, pawing at his head and his grip on you. You finally manage to pry an eye open only to see him watching you intently “Too much. I can’t-”

He doesn’t stop. He continues to lick stripes at your puffy folds and flick the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue albeit slower this time. He takes one of his hands away from your thigh and plunges two of his thick fingers knuckle deep inside your needy hole. He manages to find your sweet cushiony spot and puts enough pressure on it to make you see stars. That burning hot coil is back just mere seconds after your climax and if you could think at that moment, you’d think it’s unfair how he seems to know your body too well, knows just where to touch to make you unravel.

He adds another finger into your cunt, stretching you out for his cock, curling them inside you, and hitting your sweet spot over and over again. You know that it’s not enough, that it’s nothing compared to what’s coming for you. No matter how much prep you do it's going to be a tight fit and you can’t wait to be stretched to your limits once more. You stop fighting him, needing to chase after your orgasm, grinding your clit again on his tongue as he pumps his fingers in and out of your slutty hole.

Soon enough, you feel your second orgasm wash over you. You spill over his face, making a mess on his pillows and bedsheets. Your limbs go numb and this time you can’t even form words, just sobbing, babbling nonsense as your body shakes on top of Miguel. You would’ve fallen over if it wasn't for Miguel supporting your back with his free hand. You frantically tap his hand as you hiccup a pathetic “no more.”

Miguel relents and lets you catch your breath for a second. He kisses your puffy cunt one more time before moving you to lie on your back on the bed. He lifts your head to turn over the soiled pillow and fluff it up before getting you settled comfortably. You watch as he catches the dripping wetness from his chin with his equally soaked fingers and sticks them into his mouth, eyes rolling back and moaning at your sweet taste. You feel your cunt throb at the lewd action and you can’t help but let out a needy whimper from the back of your throat. It’s so unfair how much he affects you.

“Ay, pobrecita,” he coos at your flushed face with fat tears running down your cheeks as he nudges your legs apart with his knee and settles between your parted legs. “too much for mi conejita to handle? I know you can take more. Your pussy is so slutty, isn’t she? So needy. I doubt two orgasms is enough.”

He cups your face with one hand, thumb wiping away a tear on your cheek, his other hand brushing your hair away from your face, knowing how much you hate the feeling of it sticking to your skin. Your lower lip is jutting out in an adorable pout that he can’t help but kiss, catching your lip between his teeth. You scrunch up your nose and push his face away as you try to steady your breath.

You can see his naked chest rise and fall faster than usual, his mouth open to catch his own breath. You didn’t even notice when he disabled his suit but your eyes are thankful as you drink in the sight of his warm brown skin, stretching across the expanse of his unfairly defined body. He looks like he was sculpted by the gods themselves, taking extra care to give him the most perfect proportions. How lucky are you to see this masterpiece up close? It would be a sin to not enjoy the view.

Your eyes trail down from his strong broad shoulders to his massive tits, and even further down to see his cock standing up proudly against his navel, the head dripping beads of precum and smearing it against his abs. Pride blooms in your chest as you realize that he’s just as affected as you are.

Your throat suddenly feels so empty. You lick your lips as you tear your eyes off his cock to look up at his face only to find his hungry gaze meeting yours. His eyes glint with danger as he takes in the sight of you in your post-orgasm haze, seemingly plotting his next move.

You didn’t have to wait long because, of course, he can’t keep his hands away from you.

He moves closer, making you spread your legs further. His hands grab at the back of your thighs to push them towards your torso, your knees almost touching your chest. Your dripping cunt twitches as it’s exposed to the cold air. Your hole clenching on nothing, begging to be filled.

“Que rico. Podría acostumbrarme a esto,” he says, his voice deep and rough with lust as his hands rub up and down your thighs, squeezing, feeling you. He drinks up the sight of you, so bare and exposed, all for him to take. “I could watch you like this all day. Maybe take a video of you right now so I can watch your pretty cunt pulsing, crying for me, anytime I want. Or…”

He takes his cock in one hand, running his thumb on the swollen tip to spread the beads of precum around, pumping his shaft with a few languid strokes. You yelp when he slaps his thick, heavy cock against your puffy folds.

“I could tie you up like this and keep you here for my own pleasure.” He starts moving his hips at a torturously slow pace, sliding his length along your wet folds, getting it lubricated by your own slick. He brings his hands back to your thighs and pushes them even further until you’re practically folded in half. “Keep you here to breed. Fill you up with so much cum and you’ll stay like this so it will surely take, yeah?”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Miggy” you hiss as the tip of his cock keeps bumping into your throbbing clit “What’s stopping you from doing so huh? You have your web and your little surveillance bots. Put them to good use.”

“Of course, you’d love that, my pretty little slut,” he chuckles, shaking his head as he lines up the tip of his cock with your hole. Your eyelids flutter as you hold your breath in anticipation, waiting for that delicious stretch of being filled by his massive cock.

“Eyes on me, cariño,” he commands and you obey, looking up at him from under your lashes “That’s it, good girl.”

He starts to slowly press his cock into your greedy hole. Inch by inch, he sinks in, knocking the air out of your lungs. Midway, maybe, you can’t tell, there’s just so much of him, you start to feel a little faint, your shoulders tense and your mouth stuck hanging open. You feel so full of him, almost like he’s going to split you apart.

“Breathe for me,” he coos as he slowly presses more of him into you, filling you up more than what should be possible. He drapes your legs over his shoulders, his chest pressing against the back of your thighs as he uses his now free hands to cradle your face. You suck in a breath as he instructed and try to even out your breathing. “There you go. Keep breathing. Relax for me. Thaaat’s it. My sweet girl. So good for me.”

You preen at his words, warmth flooding your chest and going straight down to your pussy. His hands stay on your cheeks, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin as he pushes the last few inches in. You put your hands on top of his as you lean into his touch. He starts to grind his hips slowly, gently, getting you used to his size. The coarse dark curls at the base of his cock tickle your sensitive clit and the head of his cock softly probing at your cervix makes you roll your eyes back and whimper from the fullness.

“Eres tan hermosa. No sabes lo que me haces, cariño,” he leans in to capture your lips into a deep kiss. Soft and gentle until both of you wanted more. One of his hands finds the back of your neck to tilt your head as he pleases as he tries to devour you. His tongue licks into your mouth and his fangs graze your lips with every movement. You hum against his lips as you feel him start to pull his hips back, letting his dick slide halfway out before snapping his hips forward to plunge himself back inside, his balls lewdly smacking against your ass. And he keeps doing it over, and over again making you moan oh so wantonly.

“Estás tan rica. Estás hecha para mí, mi amor,” he whispers against your lips. The breathlessness and the hint of desperation for release in his voice make you shiver. His pace picks up, thrusts growing rougher with it. The wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you and skin slapping against skin echo around his room. The only other sounds you can hear are your combined sounds of pleasure, calling out each other’s names.

You pull on the hand that Miguel has on your cheek to lace your fingers together, his large hand easily dwarfing yours, his talons folded back to not hurt you. Your other hand slips between your bodies, travelling downwards to feel where you two are connected. There’s a deep rumble coming from Miguel’s chest and he presses your sweaty foreheads together, looking at you through half-lidded eyes. Your tight heat is milking his cock so perfectly and at this rate, he’s not going to last long.

“Miggy,” you whine, keeping your eyes on his. His irises seem a little more brown as he looks at you so tenderly, making you feel like you are going to melt into a puddle of goo. He brings your joined hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles and you think you really just might turn into goo.

His thrusts get messier and more frantic You feel the familiar coil building up in your stomach. You lift your hand from between your legs to press firmly against the area below your navel and the sensation is electrifying. You can feel his cock pistoning in and out of you from where you are touching. You can feel him rearranging your insides, molding your pussy to accommodate him and only him, ruining you for anyone else.

“Mi niña hermosa, mi niña linda. Mía. Toda mía.” he moans into your ear, almost whiney and you know he’s near the edge. He starts peppering kisses on your neck, licking, sucking, grazing the sensitive skin with his fangs but not sinking them in yet. He takes the hand you aren’t holding to rest on your hand on your lower stomach. His thumb reaches further down to stroke your clit earning him a shaky whine from you.

“Cum for me again, hermosa,” he lifts his head to look at your flushed face. You’re sure you look like a mess but to him, you’re more beautiful than the brightest twinkling stars on a clear night sky. “Let me see your pretty face when you cum.”

And with that, you’re gone, pushed over the edge, screaming his name, squirting clear liquid up to his chest. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your hold on his hand tightens, and your legs on his shoulders shake and flail from another intense orgasm. There’s ringing in your ears but you faintly hear him cooing at you, whispering sweet words you can’t quite understand.

Miguel is still fucking into you with messy, frantic thrusts and ragged breaths but it doesn’t take long for him to follow, not when your velvety walls are pulsing, contracting on his dick. He puts a large hand on the space beside your head for support, his claws tearing through the pillowcase, as he drives his hips into yours a few more times before spilling inside you with a deep growl. He paints your insides with his cum as he rides his high with a few more shallow thrusts. You clench around him trying to squeeze as much cum out of him with your tight hole and he whimpers your name.

Both of you pant in unison, trying to catch your breath after that life-altering orgasm together. You turn your head to the side to kiss the inside of Miguel's wrist next to your head. Miguel doesn’t want to move. Everything is too perfect at that moment. You’re perfect.

But he has more plans for you tonight.

He takes your legs off his shoulders to wrap around his waist as he adjusts the both of you so he can lay down comfortably on top of you, putting most of his weight on his elbows on the bed. His dick still plugged in your hole, keeping his seed inside and refusing to part with your tight heat.

“Miggy,” you softly call him, looking at his relaxed face resting on your shoulder, eyes closed.

“Hm?”

“... pull out.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Fine, but only because I want to,” he grumbles, clearly not wanting to pull out. He gets on his knees again so he can at least watch your sloppy hole fluttering as he slowly pulls out. A thick milky ring of your combined fluid sits at the base of his cock. His eyes darken as he sees your cunt trying to clench at air and his cum starts to drip out of you. He can’t have that. He collects the trail of cum with his fingers so he can stuff them back inside of you.

“Miggy, come back here,” you pull at his hand and when he doesn’t budge, you add “You can just cum inside me more later. I need cuddles.”

That gets him to leave your fucked out hole alone. For now. Miguel kisses your stomach up to the valley between your breasts to your neck and lingers on your lips. He goes back to his earlier position on top of you. You drape your arms around his neck as you hum in contentment against the kiss. He smiles and moves to mouth at your sensitive neck, planting soft kisses, licking and sucking as he moans and pants in your ear.

“Miggy, I’m sleepy now,” you turn to look at him. You know what he’s doing. You know that he’s trying to turn you on again. And it’s working.

“You can do one more, mami. One more for me,” he says. He’s almost pouting, almost begging “You said I can cum in you again.”

“I didn’t mean right away. I just came three times already” you whined wrapping your arms around his broad chest. you want to feel him close.

“Mmm, you can cum four times. Maybe more because you’re such a needy little whore,” he murmurs into your neck, not stopping his ministrations. “My cum slut who loves being bred. We’re not going to end the night without your tummy full of cum I promise you that, cariño.”

You roll your eyes at him but you don't push him away and instead start playing with the short curly hairs at the back of his neck, ignoring the way your pussy shivered at his perverted words. You find comfort in his warmth and weight on top of you. You inhale his familiar deep masculine scent and it almost lulls you to sleep until you feel something wet and hard poking at your thigh.

“How are you hard again?” you say in disbelief as you look down and sure enough, Miguel’s dick is erect and ready to go for another round.

“It’s been a while since we had sex and my hand could only do so much to make up for your absence, cariño,” he huffs as gets up on his knees to turn you over and slap your ass. The sound of his palm meeting the sticky wet skin of your ass is undeniably lewd. “And what about needing to get you pregnant does not make sense to you? Get on your hands and knees for me. That baby is not gonna make itself.”

You plant your knees on the mattress and present your ass to him but you don't bother to lift your upper body from the bed. You keep your face down against the softness of his pillows. You didn't want him to see the giddy smile on your face from hearing that he hasn't slept with anyone else. His cum starts dripping out of your hole, coating your clit with creamy white and Miguel almost cums again on the spot.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” His large hands grab at your ass, kneading them. His thumbs spread your puffy lips apart so he can watch your cunt try to keep his cum inside. You groan as you force your arms to lift you up. “There’s my good girl.”

He smacks your ass which earned him a yelp from you. His lips curl up as he watches the flesh of your ass jiggle from the impact.

“Get on with it,” you whine, wiggling your ass to entice him to move faster. For someone who wanted to stop at the third round, you sure are impatient to be filled again.

“You are going to be the death of me,” he chuckles as he guides his cock back inside your wet heat. “There you go, mami. Back where it belongs.”

You moan loudly as you feel him grinding his hips, driving his dick as deep as he can reach inside you. Your eyes flutter close, as you savor the stretch of your hole around his fat cock once more. You couldn’t agree more with his words.

You hear Miguel from behind you input a command on a device. It beeps obnoxiously like it’s mocking you. It’s the last thing you want to hear while he is balls deep inside you, his girthy cock stretching you deliciously and filling you up so good. You think to yourself what was so important that Miguel can't put his gizmo down and enjoy the feeling of your warm, tight pussy on his dick? Right after insisting you can go for one more round?

You are about to snap at him for being ungrateful until a hologram appears in front of you. It shows a live video feed of his very own bed and a clear view of your fully naked self on your hands and knees getting ur insides rearranged by your boss. Your hair is a mess and your makeup is all smudged from how he made you cry from all the begging and overstimulation earlier. And he looks so big compared to you, having to bend low to align his hips with yours. You didn't even notice the recording devices planted around the room until now from how your brain was so fogged by lust. There seem to be at least three around the room from different angles. Well, it turns out he wasn’t just bluffing when he said he could record you earlier.

You wonder if he always had those set up. You haven’t really been to his room before. The few “encounters” you had with Miguel happened in his laboratory on his silly little platform, both of you too consumed by lust to think about moving to a more private area. It’s rather unlikely that they’re for actual safety reasons when they all just record the same area. You entertain the idea that him taking you to his room tonight is not just a spur-of-the-moment thing, that he might have all of this set up for tonight for when he has you writhing in pleasure on his bed. How thoughtful, you think. It makes you clench around his dick.

"You really are a pervert," you quip to annoy him. Clearly, the urge to mess with him hasn’t been thoroughly fucked out of you yet. You didn't even get to laugh at your own childish remark when Miguel abruptly starts thrusting his hips without warning, harder this time, dragging out a surprised whimper from you. His tip is bullying your cervix, testing the line between pleasure and pain but you love it. Your eyes meet Miguel's intense red glare on the screen.

"You're still talking," he tuts, his head shaking like he's some kind of pet owner trying to reprimand a disobedient pet "Let me fix that, cariño.”

He brings his large calloused hands back on you – where they belong, you think to yourself, echoing Miguel’s words. His left hand is firm on the flesh of your waist, you are sure they are going to bruise once he’s done with you. His other hand fondles your breasts, the sharp talons on his fingertips lightly grazing your soft skin. You know that when you look at yourself in the mirror tomorrow morning you’d look like you barely got away from being mauled by a feral beast, evidence of how Miguel O'Hara had his way with you and how you enjoyed every single second of it.

You cry out his name, chanting it like a prayer. He’s so deep inside you that you can almost feel him in your chest, his thrusts fucking the air out of your lungs.

“Miggy, Mi…. Mig– ah, ah Mi– haaaa –guel ahhh”

Your eyes roll back at the continuous assault on your sweet spot and your cervix with every deep thrust. High-pitched whines come out of your throat as your arms give out from under you, making you fall face-first on the soft mattress. It all feels so good but overwhelming. You think you’re going to pass out.

“Que rico, mami,” he pulls your hair so you can face the screens. “Look at yourself. Beautiful. Taking my cock so well. Don’t worry. I have this all recorded if you’re too cock drunk to watch yourself now, cariño.”

You can't say anything back. You try really hard to come up with something but the only word that comes out of your mouth is “please” over and over again becoming progressively needier each time. He wraps his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, his chest flushed against your back, allowing him to rock you back against his forceful thrusts.

“Gonn’ make sure I put a baby in you tonight, cariño,” he growls in your ear. “I can’t wait to see your tummy swell in a few months. You’ll look divine, I won't be able to take my hands off you even more.”

His eyes are back to a glowing red as they meet yours that are glazed over by tears and lust. His hand tightens his hold on your hair making you tilt your head further, exposing more of your neck for him to suck bruises on. Your tits are bouncing freely at his aggressive pace. Coupled with the high-pitched moans coming out of your mouth, it’s all so pornographic. It makes you feel like liquid fire is running through your veins and pooling into your stomach.

“You’re gonna cum for me? Let go. Come on. cum for me, mami,”Miguel grunts in your ear, his hand on your hair letting go so he can greedily grab at your tits. “I wanna feel your cunt pulsing on my cock. Can you do that for me? Of course, you can. Going to milk me dry.”

And just like that, you throw your head back on his shoulder, eyes screwing shut as another wave of orgasm crashes down on you. Miguel follows closely, filling you up with more cum that drips down your thighs and on the bedsheets. Your body slumps back against his, too tired to keep yourself upright. You don’t even have the energy to open your eyes, content with feeling Miguel’s warm body against yours.

“I got you,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and moving you to lie down on the bed. You hum in contentment, letting him care for your tired body. He bends down to plant a kiss on your forehead before he pulls away. You miss his touch already.

A beeping sound lets you know that he turned off the monitors. You feel him taking the soiled bedsheets, getting up from the bed to get fresh ones. You have half the mind to reach out to him and tell him he can clean up later so you can cuddle now. Your mouth, however, doesn’t want to move so instead you groan as you blindly reach your hands out.

Miguel chuckles at your antics, walking back with fresh sheets and a damp towel to wipe off the sticky mess from your body. He sits next to you on the bed and brings the towel to your tear-stained cheeks, gently dabbing the area around your eyes to get rid of the messed up traces of mascara and eyeliner. You take your hand to rest on your chest trying to calm your wildly beating heart.

The comfortable silence, unfortunately, doesn’t last long. You hear the unmistakable voice of Lyla cut through the air.

“Heeeey, bossman! Heeeey, girlie!” she drawls and your eyes snap open as you snatch the sheet from Miguel’s hands to cover yourself.

“Ay, coño! I thought I said no alerts tonight,” Miguel looks pissed, rubbing his face in frustration before moving to turn off his watch. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

“Wait, wait! Sorry to interrupt the big night, Miguel, but it’s an emergency. Trust me you’ll want to fix this now,” Lyla raises her hands in surrender before Miguel presses a button. She turns to you, looking apologetic and asking for help “Then you can go back to babymaking, right, dollface?”

“I–” you flush, choking on your own words. You begrudgingly turn to Miguel, your lower lip caught in between your teeth. You lower your eyes as an ugly feeling crawls up your chest.

“It sounds important. You should go,” you whisper, not trusting your voice to speak up any louder. “I’d say I can be back up but I can hardly move so you’re on your own, big guy.”

Miguel sighs and gets up, telling Lyla to send him the information and that it better be worth his time.

You are already sexually satisfied and tired – that’s what four orgasms could do to you – but you are a little upset and sulky that Miguel has to be called in for work right now. Stupid anomaly or whatever it is. It’s probably important and a universe out there might be in grave danger. But you can't help feeling like shit about it though.

You like how soft Miguel gets when he cleans you up after sex. You like it when he picks up your tired form and whispers soft words to you in Spanish. Plus, you were looking forward to cuddles. What’s the use of having sex in his room on his bed if not to cuddle afterward and wake up next to each other the next day? And then, suddenly, in the early morning light, realize that you’ve been madly in love with each other all along. Okay, you are more than just a little upset.

Miguel notices you pouting and your eyes getting glassy with tears as you try to roll off the bed. He shoots his glowing red web at you, trapping you where you are before going back to readjusting his watch.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, walking back to the bed as he makes sure his suit is all good and ready for the mission. He kneels on the bed to drag you to lie on your back.

“What are you doing? I'm going to take a shower,” you sniffle trying to avoid his eyes “I’ll take care of myself. you should go”

He hums as he takes both your wrists in one hand and forces them above your head to secure them together with his webs.

“Miggy?” you look at him and there’s a spark of mischief in his eyes. He darts his tongue across his lower lip and you feel a shiver run up your spine.

He doesn’t respond. He only keeps looking at you like he’s going to devour you once more. He brings your legs up to the position he had in before, knees to your chest, cunt fully exposed to him. You blush and your heart starts pounding in your chest. He shoots out more of his web, making sure you’re comfortable and your legs are securely tied in that position.

“Good?” he whispers and you nod in response “Words, cariño.”

“Perfect,” you moan, your chest heaving with need. He smiles at you fondly, caressing your cheek with a curled finger, and plants chaste kisses on your temple, your nose, and the corner of your mouth until he reaches your lips. He hums in contentment as he savors the feel of your lips against his. Then, he pulls away reluctantly and puts on his mask. He sets his watch to the right coordinates opening up a portal to wherever the universe needs saving.

“I’ll be back as fast as I can. I’ll make sure that anomaly regrets ever being made for interrupting my plans for our night,” he grumbles and gives you one last kiss through his mask for good luck. “And then it’s going to be all about you for the rest of the night, hm? I promise.”

He walks into the portal backwards so he can look at you until it closes and takes him away. Your heart flutters in your chest, anticipating what’s to come as you feel the webs digging deliciously into your soft flesh.

•🕷️────✧˖°˖🕸️˖°˖✧────🕷️•

Translations:

Que linda - how pretty

muñeca - doll

cariño - dear/darling

Qué voy a hacer contigo? - What am I going to do with you?

Qué haría sin ti? - What am I going to do without you?

conejita - little rabbit

pobrecita - poor thing

que rico - “[you] look good” (literal: tastes good)

Podría acostumbrarme a esto - I could get used to this

Eres tan hermosa. No sabes lo que me haces - You're so beautiful. You don't know what you do to me

Estás tan rica. Estás hecha para mí, mi amor - You feel so good. You were made for me, my love

Mi niña hermosa, mi niña linda. Mía. Toda mía. - My beautiful girl, my sweet girl. Mine. All mine.

mami - mommy (as an endearment for a partner)

coño - pussy

A/N: so many thanks to my friend who helped me with translating and giving me tips on some better Spanish terms to use 🙏

#miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara headcanons #potchy-writes #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x female reader #chubby reader

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1whore1gang · 1 year ago

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I wanted to try something

NSFW WARNING MDNI!!!!

Soooo I’ve went down the rabbit hole of werewolf!TF141 and honestly I’ve had some ideas pop up, so uh yeah this is what my brain does when it gets on tumblr

Warnings: sex…full blown smut, fingering, p in v, all the warnings y’all,….. i think i used ‘pup’ in here somewhere

MDNI!! NSFW!!

Omega!Reader x Werewolf!141

written as a f!reader

It was like any other day, training with the 141. As the newest addition to this pack, you were pushed hard to be the best. Being one of two Omegas was even tougher, considering the other was your superior.

“Push harder rookie.” Soap’s voice rang out as you pulled yourself off the floor, exhausted and drenched in sweat. “Dig deep, you aren’t goin’ anywhere until you pin me down.”

You want to groan, complain, but you don’t. Instead you brace for impact as the sparing continues. Soap had you beat in just about every category when it came to fighting, this man was HUGE. You couldn’t keep up.

“I’m tapping out!” The words come out quick as Soap backs off.

“Already?” He questions. Soap was one of two members you’ve already met. You haven’t been here very long.

“Yeah, I’m calling it quits.” You push yourself onto your feet, panting. “You can’t expect this out of me on Day 3 can you?”

Soap only laughs, not even a glisten of sweat on him. “You’ll get there pup. Soon enough you’ll be able to take the big dogs down.”

Big dogs?? You think to yourself. There’s guys bigger than Soap here?

Meeting the rest of the team embarrassed you more than you care to admit. This team was graced with two alphas. When you got near the room they were in, every hair stood up on your body, their scent so strong it lingered down the hallway.

Weeks and months go by without a hitch, except for one, but we don’t talk about that…

You were sent on your first mission and it was the night prior when your whole world fell apart. You had just gotten out of the shower when your knees collapsed and your body felt like it was on fire.

“No, no, no…” You had felt sick the last couple of days but chalked it up to something you ate. You felt your skin becoming warm and damp with sweat as it all hit you.

You were in heat

You panicked, the pain engulfing every inch of you, the need for relief taking over your cognitive thinking.

You crawled over to your phone and texted the only person you could trust, the team Beta, Gaz.

Within minutes he was at your door, jumping inside your room to help you dress and get into bed. He was calm, assuring you it was all going to be alright.

That’s when you let out a horrific scream. You covered your mouth immediately, Gaz backing away. “What was that?”

Your eyes were wide. “I don’t know…”

You both froze in time, praying it didn’t draw either of you any unwanted attention. But, unbeknownst to you both, the other 3 men could smell you miles away.

Gaz stayed with you, trying to cool you off and keep you fed and hydrated, it was hours before another man showed up at your door….Soap.

He looked at you with worry, in his pajama pants and shirt. He didn’t even have shoes on…. “What’s going on? Your scent is intoxicating.” He slowly entered your room, approaching you with caution.

Gaz spoke for you, and when he did, Soap asked him to give you and him some space. Soap crawled in behind you, leaning your head against his chest. “Relax for me okay?” Soap was an Omega, just like you, but somehow his presence felt calming. It didn’t dull the ache you felt, but he brought a sense of peace to your mind.

Suddenly, you feel his hands roam down your body to your lounge pants and remove them down to your ankles, lifting your knees to spread your legs. “Do you trust me?”

You could only nod as the cold air of your room hit your bottom half. Soap’s hand took home inbetween your legs, his fingers entering you and filling the emptiness you’ve felt.

A moan left your lips as he moved, your head falling back to rest on his shoulder. Gaz watched on, waiting to be told how he could help.

As good as Soap’s fingers felt, you still felt the searing pain. It wasn’t doing anything to quell your problems. It caused you to question Soap’s methods.

But little did you know, Soap knew exactly what he was doing because it didn’t take long of his fingers in you until the two alphas appeared at your door. The sight before them causing them to become feral, primal even. “Look at that, they smelled us.” Soap smirked.

Looking at Price and Ghost, you couldn’t help but feel a bit exposed, but their presence brought a newfound relief to you.

Price moved first, coming to hover above you against Soap’s chest, his hand brushing your hair down as he spoke softly: “We’re gonna take care of ya.”

Price slowly moved Soap’s hand away, putting his own palm flat against you. His middle finger swiped up, taking in the feeling of you. His eyes closed as he buried himself in the crook of your neck, breathing you in.

Before you knew it, Ghost was now in place of Soap, his hips rutting against your ass, his hands on your chest. You had found yourself sandwiched between the two alphas. You were drinking in every moment.

Price slowly warned you as he moved, slowly letting you adjust to his size, purring in your ear: “That’s it, that’s a good girl.”

Ghost took care of every other area of your body, slowly caressing you in every way. His fingers grazed over your nipples and eventually would travel down to your clit to help you along.

Between both of them, it didn’t take long for you to come undone. Price continued through to his own release, burying himself deep inside you. The feeling was unlike anything.

The sounds you let out as the fiery pain left your body we’re heaven to the men’s ears. Price quickly moved to help clean you up as Ghost covered you with the hoodie he had been wearing. Ghost had marked your sheets with his scent, leaving you surrounded with it.

As soon as you were clean, the alphas left without another word, Gaz quickly coming to your aid with food and water while Soap sat with you, massaging your sides. They kept you company until you had fallen asleep, and they returned to their own rooms.

#captain price x reader #soap mactavish smut #tf141 x reader #soap mactavish x reader #call of duty mw2 #werewolf!soap #werewolf au #simon riley x reader #alpha man #modern warefare 2 x reader #tf 141 x reader

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itsbeeble · 1 year ago

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BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT

THE TBZ FRAT HOUSE IS HOSTING THE BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT COLLAB BY @juyeonszn AND @itsbeeble!

YOU'RE INVITED!

PAIRINGS: tbz x f!reader

GENRES: smut, fluff, minimal angst, crack

WARNINGS: smut, minor angst, fluff, mentions of injuries, alcohol, swearing, more warnings to be added to the individual fics 18+ MINORS AND BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

SUMMARY: Have you ever wondered what your favorite frat boyz are up to in their personal lives? If so, then these fics are just for you! Join us as we take a glimpse into the Tau Beta Zeta fraternity and see what they get up to in their free time!

MORE: The way me and Fawn have been planning this for so long omgggg. Me and Fawn are so excited to announce this collab in celebration of my 1 year on tumblr, 6 year anniversary of The Boyz, AND as just a fun little event!! I hope you guys are as excited for this as I am hehe. And please feel free to send an ask or comment on this post if you'd like to be tagged in each part!!

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

FALL SEMESTER

TRY HARD — LEE JUYEON (12/6)

Need to get rid of some junk? Well these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited time offer)

EXCITEMENT — JI CHANGMIN (12/6)

SEEING STARS — KIM SUNWOO (12/10)

CLUMSY — JU HAKNYEON (12/10)

"FRIENDLY" COMPETITION — LEE SANGYEON (12/14)

JE NE SAIS QUOI — JACOB BAE (12/14)

SPRING SEMESTER

LET LOOSE — KIM YOUNGHOON (12/19)

Younghoon has hated you since the day he met you. He thought you were stuck up with that better-than-you princess attitude of yours. What better than to just…fuck it right out of you?

(NO) STRINGS ATTACHED — LEE HYUNJAE (12/19)

NO BITCHES? — ERIC SOHN (12/22)

PARTY O'CLOCK — CHOI CHANHEE (12/22)

PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER — KEVIN MOON (PT. 1 | PT. 2)

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marvelouslizzie · 2 years ago

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unconventional methods - chapter 1

Summary: Bucky Barnes has a big problem: he is too anxious to date and too old school to enjoy porn. But he needs some kind of relief, and he needs it right now.

After getting an accidental boner during a mission, Natasha suggests him an application that seems to be exactly what he needs.

Will your content solve the problem for him? Or will it create new problems?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader (SHIELD Agent Bucky Barnes x Adult Content Creator Reader)

Word Count: 5.7K

Warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, sex deprivation, adult content creation, sexy lingerie, sexy photos and videos, male masturbation, self-doubt, overthinking, flirting, sexting, sending explicit content to each other, pet names, mutual masturbation, jealousy, feeling possessive (nothing toxic), hiding the real identity, no mention of y/n.

A/N: This was such a random idea but as I started to think about it, more details came to me. After a point, it became impossible not to write.

In this story, Bunny is the reader but we view most of the story from Bucky’s side so there’s no use of you during the story. We don’t know what the reader is up to, how she feels about stuff. Only as much as Bucky knows or sees. That’s why the reader is mentioned as she mostly.

>> indicates incoming messages and << indicates outgoing messages in this story.

This story is not exactly how it seems but I don’t want to spoil it by revealing things too soon. Just stick around, if you wanna know how things will turn out to be.

Again, a big thank you to @notafunkiller for helping me every step of the way. She helped me the moment I felt stuck or something felt off, beta read the whole story and turned this into a readable piece. Thanking her won’t be enough. I would literally add her as a co-writer if that was possible on Tumblr.

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

Every like, comment and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message me or send me a question regarding the stories I write. I would love to talk about it and no, it would never bother me as long as it’s not a hate comment. They are never welcome.

Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.

Bucky wasn’t sure if he should do this. He looked at the paper Natasha handed him and then back at the screen again. The internet browser was open for a while, but he couldn’t decide what to do. It felt weird to be in this position. It didn’t feel right… but why was it wrong again? She was sharing her own content: whatever she was comfortable with. They were all there for people to see if they wanted to, right? He took a deep breath, started to type the link Natasha wrote down for him, and pushed enter quickly before he changed his mind.

The page loaded quickly, but all he could see was her profile picture and the header. There was a huge subscribe button and under it, he could see how many posts she had, different subscription options, etc. He scrolled back up to look at her photos. They were not clickable, but her profile picture was her in blue lingerie and cute bunny ears, which made him smile for a second. Then he looked at the header. She was on all fours, staring directly into the camera. It was a different look. Not that “I’m trying to look sexy” look that usually turned him off when it came to porn. It felt genuine somehow. How genuine it could be under these circumstances…

He looked at her profile picture for a while, thinking what could go wrong? A lot of people were doing this, weren't they? Some people were making money, some were paying for it. It wasn't that different from buying a dirty magazine. No, actually this was better because she had all the creative control over her own content. She was the one putting it out there. If that was not consent, then what was? He quickly created an account for himself, using a new email account like Natasha suggested. He didn’t need anyone to find out about this.

The next part felt like falling into a rabbit hole because dear god… She looked gorgeous! She had some free content that didn’t show much. Different poses in different lingerie. The photos were serving their purpose, making you want to subscribe and see more… of her. So he kept looking for a while.

There was something about her that made her so much more attractive, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He clicked next, looking at her pic in front of the mirror, with her legs wide open, but not actually showing anything. The slight smile on her face was warm and inviting. He knew he had no other option than to subscribe and see all of her content. He needed to see more.

The process didn't take long. After unlocking the special content, he just stared at the screen. How can she be real? He palmed his face, feeling nervous like he was on a first date with this attractive woman. He knew he wasn't. She was way out of his league, but he still felt nervous and intrigued while checking out all the content. There were so many different options and he didn’t know where to start.

At first, he decided to go slow and just check a couple of nude photos. The pics were in order, showing her getting rid of one piece of clothing with each new shot. It started with her fully dressed, looking super sexy: short skirt, modest cleavage, looking all cute. First, the skirt was gone, then her top, and she was left standing in her pastel pink lingerie that covered her chest completely, but it was lacy and see-through. It was fitting her like it was custom-made. He couldn’t stop himself and kept swiping, finding different concepts. His cock was pressed against his pants, aching for attention as he was unable to look away.

After spending god knows how long on her profile, Bucky finally couldn’t take it anymore. This was the point of all this, wasn’t it? Creating the need at the right time to please himself, so he wouldn’t get random erections during the missions… He unzipped himself and finally freed his cock. Still, his hands didn’t go there directly. He kept looking at her profile, discovering other features: like videos she uploaded while getting off!

“Dear god…” He gulped after seeing the thumbnail. She had a dildo in her hand. There was no way he was not going to click on this. No way!

He watched her taking her sweet time, teasing herself and, of course, the viewers, then getting really wet and adding lube on top of it before she pushed the dildo inside. The moan she let out sent a powerful jolt through his whole body. It was so beautiful and felt so fucking authentic, nothing like those fake, unrealistic porn moans. They were always a huge turn-off. This, on the other hand, was too much to handle. His cock was dripping so much precum, begging him for some attention. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this turned on. Either it never happened or it was so long ago, it doesn’t matter anymore.

He finally reached for the lube, poured a generous amount into his flesh hand, and quickly grabbed his cock.

“Fuck.” It felt so sensitive. Like he had been edged for the last hour. Maybe he had been… after all the content he went through.

His fingers were loose, moving up and down slowly while the most beautiful girl he ever laid eyes on was pleasing herself on the screen. He didn’t want this to end too soon. He wanted to take his sweet time and maybe imagine she was the one doing this to him. That was a nice image: her between his legs, looking up at him with those big eyes while she moved her hand up and down slowly, torturing him, not letting him come until she said so.

His breath shuttered at the thought, his fingers moving faster than before, like they have their own mind. His cock was grateful, but no, he didn’t want to come before the video was done. Somehow it felt like disappointing your date during your first sex.

Luckily, she started to shatter, moaning as she came on the dildo she was riding. And the noises she made immediately sent him over the edge.

“F-f-fuck,” he slurred as he started to come. It felt good, really good. He lost himself in pleasure and kept stroking until he emptied himself. Until he felt that overstimulation creeping in. That was when he noticed he closed his eyes. When he opened them back up, the video was done and the black screen with a play again button welcomed him.

Disappointment washed over him. She wasn't there with him. Even if he came before the video was done, she wouldn’t know. There was no one to disappoint. He was alone in his bedroom, jerking off to a computer screen, but in his defense, the girl was hot. Really hot.

He took a deep breath, letting himself enjoy the afterglow. That was the point of all this: enjoying small stuff like satisfaction without going through the tedious process of meeting new people. He reached for the wet wipes and cleaned himself quickly. As he clicked the exit button on the video, he saw another one. It must be old because she looked a bit younger, and her hair was a little lighter. Also, it looked like a short one so he clicked on it.

“Hey. Thank you so much for subscribing.” This was the first time he heard her voice. It was soft and calm. “I know this isn’t conventional, but I enjoy sharing content like this. Don’t judge me if you don’t wanna be judged, okay?” She winked and god, it was adorable. “I'll try to share new content every Wednesday. I hope to see you here. Feel free to message me if you like. Take care.”

If he hadn’t come thirty seconds ago, he would have gotten hard again after hearing her voice. He was glad even the super soldier serum had some limits. Before his body could recover from his intense orgasm, he closed the window and decided to go take a shower.

-------

The next week passed in a blur. There were missions, briefings, and someone’s birthday… He didn’t care whose. It was not someone from the main team, that was all he knew. He was eating his cake in the corner, minding his own business when Natasha sat next to him.

“Hey.” She tried to sound as casual as possible.

“Hey.”

“You look better.”

Bucky looked at her confused.

“Does that supposed to be a compliment, Romanoff?”

“It’s a simple statement, Barnes. It looks like you took my advice and gave yourself a break.” Bucky averted his gaze from her. “No accidental erections during missions, congrats.”

“It was one time, Natasha. One time. When will you let it go?”

“Whenever you tell me about your… experience.”

“My experience?” He looked back at her, with the same confused expression all over again.

“I wanna know if you liked her or not. I don’t need details.”

“Why do you care so much about it? She’s just a random girl.” He lied to her. She wasn’t. At least not to him. He had been checking her account anytime he got a chance. This whole week, he had been masturbating more than he ever did before. Sometimes even the thought of her was turning him on so randomly, he was starting to get worried, but at the same time, he couldn’t stop himself from checking for updates.

She was sharing content very regularly. Sometimes they were new photoshoots, and sometimes just random cute photos in pajamas. He didn’t know which content he was looking forward to the most. All he knew was he loved how genuine it felt she was.

“I’m just noisy. So tell me…”

“Yes, Natasha, I like her. She’s cute and hot, exactly what I was looking for. What do you want, a thank you?”

Bucky really had no idea how Natasha managed to hit the bull's eye when she suggested this girl to him. She was absolutely his type, so he could say thank you for this, but nothing more.

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“Thank you.” It was Natasha’s turn to feel confused because in all the time they spent together with Barnes, he never once thanked her. This was a first.

“Wow. You really like her.” She sounded proud of herself.

“Hey, Buck!” The moment Bucky heard Sam’s voice, he jumped off the couch. He didn’t want to spend another minute talking about his irrational crush with Natasha. It was pointless.

-------

As the time passed, Bucky felt like he was addicted to her content. He was checking his phone much more often than before, just to see if she shared something. He didn’t notice it until Sam pointed it out and asked if he got a girlfriend or something. He quickly denied that possibility, finding a lame excuse. He wasn’t sure if Sam bought it or not, but he definitely needed to check his phone less often.

When he came back home, he felt so tired. The whole day was full of meetings and he let himself be consumed by the details just not to think about her. It was Wednesday, which meant new content, yet he still tried to stay away from his phone.

He literally consumed every content she ever shared. There was no photo or video on her profile he didn't see. There were some he masturbated to more than once. He just wanted to take a step back and if he could manage this, he would feel less of a creep. The problem was he was home and he had nothing to do.

He tried to distract himself with food at first, and it only worked for 15 minutes. Then he took a shower, which took even less. Watching television didn’t even last more than 5 minutes, so he decided to go to sleep, but his mind kept wandering to her. He wanted to know what she shared and how she looked. Finally, he gave in and opened her profile… to see nothing. Since yesterday she shared literally nothing. That was so unlike her. She shared something every day and she never missed Wednesdays. He didn’t care about the lack of new content. It worried him that he doesn’t know if she was alright. Why wouldn’t she be? Maybe she was busy. He tried to calm himself down but falling asleep was impossible.

Then he made a promise to himself: if she won't share anything by noon the next day, he would message her. That thought calmed him down a little.

-------

The next day, Bucky forgot that he was trying to avoid checking his phone in public. His body was at work, but his mind was stuck on… her. He kept looking at her profile to see something, anything to assure himself you’re alright, but there was literally nothing. Complete silence. When it was finally noon, he had no patience left. Normally, he wouldn’t even consider sending a message, but he was just worried. And it didn’t occur to him that it was not his place to be concerned about this woman.

He opened her profile and clicked on the direct messages feature. His mind was completely blank. He had no idea what to say, looking at the screen for a couple of seconds as he trying to collect his thoughts.

“Hey.” That’s all he could come up with. How to say you are worried about someone who has no idea you even exist? It was ridiculous, but there was no way he could just wait and do nothing. “I’m sorry for bothering you. I hope you are alright. You have been absent lately. It could be something totally personal, I know that, but you never miss Wednesdays. So I wanted to check in to see if you are fine. I really hope you are.”

He took a deep breath after he pressed send. It was a long shot for sure. He didn’t really expect an answer. Maybe a seen. And that would be more than enough.

-------

An unfamiliar chime got Bucky’s attention. It surely came from his phone, but he never heard that sound before. When he took his phone out and saw the notification, his heart skipped a beat, just for a second. It was a message from her. The nervous feeling spread through his body like poison, sweat pooling on his forehead before he even clicked on it.

>> Hey, handsome. Thank you for checking in. I have been a bit busy and sick at the same time. Not the best combo. Sorry for missing the content day. I will make it up next Wednesday.

Bucky looked at the message, a bit confused. He wasn’t interested when the new content was gonna drop. He just wanted to know if she was okay. Being busy and sick at the same time didn’t look so. Content should have been the last thing she should be worried about.

<< I’m not worried about the content, darling. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.

He definitely didn’t expect her to respond this quickly, it didn’t even take a minute.

>> Really? I thought you’d miss me.

She was talking like she knew him personally. Like they have chatted before. It was weird and comforting at the same time.

<< I did miss seeing your cute little face, I’m not gonna lie, but I didn’t message you for that. Content can wait until you feel better.

>> My cute little face is a little bit unpresentable and I appreciate your concern. It’s refreshing to see someone actually cares how I am feeling instead of why I did not share anything lately.

<< I’m sure your cute little face is still the cutest thing on the face of the earth. I wouldn’t worry about being presentable.

>> Get ready for a jumpscare.

He had no idea what that meant, but the text was followed by a selfie: her, in bed, looking rather exhausted, with a messy bun, cute pajamas, and a cup of tea in her hand. Bucky quickly googled what jumpscare means and came back to the messaging screen.

<< You clearly don’t know what jumpscare means. It would be me, in a dark hallway or an alley. That’s real jumpscare. This is a cute lady who needs a bit of time to recover.

>> First darling, now cute lady. Are you sure you aren’t 60 years old?

<< Why, do you have an age limit?

>> For my content? No. << And for other stuff?

>> The answer is still no, but are you?

<< 60? No. I’m 107.

>> How do you know how to use the app at 107?

That question made Bucky laugh a little, but he chose to be honest.

<< If I don’t know something I just google it.

>> Shouldn't you be semi-dead at 107?

<< I should be fully dead yet I’m still here.

>> Your profile says 33. Why are you lying handsome?

<< Believe me, my body and soul are older than 33.

>> I kinda believe that because you are talking differently.

<< Is it why you are answering my messages?

>> That and I feel a bit lonely. Your message sounded cute. I usually end the conversation before it gets too far.

<< What’s too far for you?

>> When they start demanding private pictures or try to sext.

Bucky had to google once again what sext means, just to be sure, and it was exactly what he thought it would be.

<< But you sent them to me.

>> Just one picture. A sick selfie and you didn’t ask for it. I thought it would turn you off really badly and you would say take care and end the convo.

<< I still think you look cute.

>> I am starting to believe you might be cute as well.

-------

Bucky had no idea how things got this far with her. After that message, they were literally sending texting each other daily. Just checking in, asking random stuff, or getting to know each other. It was not the same every day. Sometimes it was just a couple of messages and dead silence. Sometimes they communicated all day, non-stop, but Bucky didn’t mind. He didn’t mind not talking to her every day. Knowing that she was okay gave him a bit of peace. Just a good morning or a good night message was enough to ease his anxiety.

>> Good morning, handsome.

That was the text he woke up to, that made him smile almost all day. Every time he remembered her calling him handsome or taking time to send a message to him, it made him happy. It made him feel different than others. He knew that was not the case. Maybe she kept talking to him because he didn’t make her uncomfortable. Maybe she talked to others too. He had no idea, but whenever he thought about her messaging someone else, he felt a faint pain in his stomach. He knew this feeling was irrational, so he avoidedto think about it as much as possible.

<< Good morning, bunny.

<< Is your favorite color pink? He randomly asked as he had been doing all week. The question came to him because he noticed she wore that color a lot.

>> No, it’s light blue. Why?

<< You wear pink a lot, that’s why I asked.

>> That’s what they like. Most men still think blue is a manly color.

<< You look divine in blue. It’s their loss really.

Her answer was a picture of her in blue lingerie. It surprised him because that photo was not on her profile. He remembered seeing this set, but not this exact photo. He kept looking at the pic for much longer than he should have. Another message woke him up from his trance.

<< I take that as you like it.

>> This photo is not on your profile.

<< No, it’s not.

>> But you feel fine sending it to me.

<< You said I look divine in blue.

>> You do. I’m just surprised you sent me a photo you didn’t share before. I’m glad you feel comfortable.

<< I’m pretty comfortable talking to you. Otherwise, I wouldn’t talk to someone whose name I don’t know.

>> I don’t know your name either, bunny.

<< You are a smart man. Most assume this is my real name.

>> Using your real name would be an unnecessary risk.

<< Is that why you don’t call me Viv?

>> Maybe. I wasn’t doing it on purpose. Why are you calling me handsome?

<< I don’t know, I never really thought about it.

>> Yeah, exactly. You don’t know what I look like but you are calling me handsome.

<< I would love to see what you look like, but I don’t wanna make you feel uncomfortable.

>> I’m sure what you are imagining is much better than the reality, bunny.

<< Why do you call me bunny?

>> Because of your profile photo. The bunny ears. You look really cute.

-------

Bucky was in the middle of debriefing. After a really long mission, he was finally back in New York. He wondered if Bunny messaged him. That was what he’d been calling her in his mind for a while and suddenly, he realized it might be too weird. Was he getting too creepy? Too comfortable? They didn’t even know each other properly. The last time they talked, she asked him why he didn’t use Viv. Maybe that was a signal for him to go for the fake name instead of his nickname.

“Barnes.” Fury’s voice brought him back to reality.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you want to add anything else.” His voice was firm.

“No, no. Romanoff covered it well.”

“Good. Rest for a couple of days. We will be going back to finish what we started.”

When Bucky finally reached out for his phone, Natasha was smiling in the corner.

“Does he have a secret girlfriend?” Sam asked.

“Maybe. I have no idea.” She lied.

-------

>> Good morning, old man.

>> Busy day?

>> I got a funny story to tell you, but you aren’t around.

>> Please tell me I didn’t offend you with the nickname.

>> I am messaging you a lot, aren’t I? I should leave you alone.

>> I’m sorry…

Bucky’s heart was racing as he read the messages. He should’ve warned her about not being online for a while. Instead, she thought she did something wrong. He looked at the message screen, trying tocome up with a good response to assure her that he wasn’t offended. He was an old man after all. What was there to get offended?

<< Hey. I’m sorry. I was away for work. There was no signal. I did not see your messages before.

<< Just know that you never bother me. You can message me as much as you want. Whenever you want and I will answer when I can.

<< And you know I should be the one to worry if I’m bothering you or creeping you out. Not you.

<< If you still wanna tell me that funny story, I’m here to listen, Viv.

Bucky wasn’t sure if she would reply. After all, she didn’t get a message from him for a while. Maybe he’d already lost his chance… But then his phone chimed.

>> Viv? Where did Bunny go?

>> 🐰

<< You want me to call you Bunny?

>> I got used to it.

<< Okay, Bunny. If that’s what you want.

This made him feel better. Maybe he was just overthinking. She didn’t seem to mind half of the things he was thinking about.

<< Should I get used to being called old man?

>> Does it bother you?

<< It doesn’t. I am an old man.

>> You are 33 if you didn’t lie while creating your profile.

<< Biologically, yes.

>> But you feel older, so you don’t mind.

>> I’m glad you are back.

<< I’m sorry that I didn’t warn you about work.

>> It’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.

That last message broke his heart. He knew she was right. He didn’t owe her anything, but that wasn’t the reason why he was explaining himself. He was doing it because he wanted to, and a small part of him wanted to owe her an explanation. He also wanted her to owe him an explanation. Yet he knew that wasn’t the case.

<< Is that how you feel?

>> Isn’t that how I should feel? I don’t know who you are. I don’t even know what you look like. I just know I like talking to you. If that’s the only thing you are willing to do, then it’s fine by me. I mean you could be married or engaged and I wouldn’t know. So it’s fine, you don’t have to explain yourself.

Bucky looked at the message for a while, digesting what she was saying. She was right. She had no information about who he was while he had access to her all of her content and now private messages. She was completely exposed, and he didn’t even share his name with her. Why would she trust him? Why would she owe him any explanation at all?

<< It’s James.

>> Nice to meet you, James 🐰

>> You have such a beautiful name.

-------

After he shared his name with her, something changed between them. Something subtle, but it meant a lot to Bucky. It felt like she was more open, and more curious now.

>> What are you wearing?

Bunny’s question caught him off guard. He looked at himself in panic. He was sitting on the floor, only with his boxers on, so there was no way he could tell her the truth.

<< Pajamas, you?

>> What kind of pajamas? I’m guessing old man pajamas but…I never saw an old man in old-school pajamas. Maybe you can show me.

Shit, shit, shit.

Lying to her was a huge mistake. He had no pajamas to put on. He only had a couple of pants, and henleys, and maybe three jackets. Natasha always made fun of him for wearing the same stuff over and over again. She was trying to hit a nerve so he would go buy something new, but it didn’t work, of course. Now, he wished it did.

He started to panic a little, looking around to find a solution. I could cover my body, a voice in his head said. And that’s what he did. He laid down, covered himself with his blanket, and took the picture. His face wasn’t in the frame, just the tip of his chin. Since he shaved this morning, his dimple was showing. He used his vibranium hand to take the selfie, and in this way, it looked like a normal photo.

It was too late when he noticed the fact that he laying on the floor, not in bed was visible. He cursed to himself while waiting for her answer. There was no way she wasn’t going to comment about the absence of the bed. No way.

>> I am not seeing any pajamas or your body, old man. It is that bad?

Bucky took a breath of relief. Maybe she did not even notice. After all, she wanted to see him. Maybe she didn’t even pay attention to his surroundings.

Or maybe she just didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. That thought changed his mind. He literally saw every part of her body. Sending a picture back in his boxers shouldn’t be a big deal, right? He stood up and extended his vibranium arm. The new selfie was quite similar except this time he was showing a lot of skin. Starting from the tip of his chin, he showed his upper body only. He looked at the photo before sending it: upper body and black boxers. No bare legs and no face.

>> I see no pajamas. And this body doesn't belong to an old man at all. Are you lying to me, James?🤨

He might have made a mistake by sending this picture. There was no way he could prove to her this is actually him. Especially after all that old man talk. While he was thinking about what he’s gonna do next, he got another message.

>> Cat got your tongue?

<< A bunny did actually.

>> You look good, James. Really good, but you don’t seem excited.

Her response confused him.

<< Excited?

>> Maybe you need a photo to get excited.

Before he could ask what that means, she sent him a pic of her. Definitely not professionally taken. It’s her in front of the mirror, wearing only shorts and covering her naked breasts with one of her hands while taking the picture with the other.

>> Hope this helps.

>> But if you wanna see more, you gotta share more.

<< You're very beautiful, bunny, but I hope you know this was not my intention. I was waiting for you to tell me that funny story.

Her response was another photo: a close up on her covered breasts. She looked like she was about to drop her hand and reveal it like he did not see them before.

>> I know.

>> So does this mean you're not excited? I was trying something here…

>> I can tell you the story if that’s what you’d rather do.

“Fuck…” Bucky cursed out loud. He was really good at this before. Flirting and finding the best possible response were easy back in the 40s, but it didn’t feel like that anymore. He was constantly worried about doing something wrong or creeping her out. He wanted to hear the story, but he really wanted to see her breasts too.

<< What do I have to do to see more?

>> I’ve just told you. Share more to get more.

Oh, so she wanted more photos of him, and he literally had no idea how to take flattering pictures.

>> Maybe start by showing me if the photos worked or not.

He looked down at himself and saw his rock-hard cock. How is he supposed to show her? Maybe I should mimic her photos. He touched the outline of his dick, making it a little more visible before taking a picture.

<< Is it clear enough?

>> Oh, you got really excited, didn’t you Jamie?

>> Not an old man after all.

He loudly groaned when he saw what she called him. Jamie. God! He felt a jolt of arousal the moment he read the nickname. He was sure he got even a little harder if that’s possible.

Before he could find an answer, Bunny sent him another photo. This time her palm was stretched on her breasts, fingers not hiding much anymore, but still, her tits weren’t completely visible. Yet he could see how erect her nipple was. He already had a lot of dirty thoughts: like taking her nipple into his mouth and torturing her before giving in. He just didn’t know if he should voice them or not.

<< Oh, that nipple…

>> What about it?

<< You wanna hear what I am thinking about?

>> Well, since I’m trying to tempt you here… What do you think?

<< Fuck, Bunny. You have no idea what you are doing to me.

>> I am dying to hear it though.

Instead of telling her, Bucky decided to show her. He tried to position himself in front of the camera and take a good photo of his erection. He tried a couple of different angles, but it was a dick after all. Nothing he tried seemed to make it seem more appealing in his view. When he finally sent the picture, he added a small text.

<< How about I show you instead?

>> Oh my god!

>> You were hiding that from me all this time?

>> Damn, I feel robbed.

<< Does this mean you like it, doll?

>> Oh, that’s new.

>> And I like it.

>> Maybe even better than Bunny.

>> And yes, I am actually drooling right now even with that horrible angle.

<< Horrible angle? How should I do this then? I never...

>> Do you want me to teach you, old man? Because I can.

<< I’m always open to learning new stuff. That’s the only thing you can always rely on.

>> Ohh, I love that. Open-minded, doesn’t mind taking criticism, no fragile masculinity. All very hot.

>> Try taking a picture in front of the mirror maybe. Don’t take the picture from above or too down. Try to use eye level if you aren’t particularly doing something. That works better.

Using a mirror wasn’t a good idea for him. He could imagine the photos looking better like that, but there was no way he could hide his metal arm.

So instead of positionin his camera above, he tried to level it down, showing his full length and thickness. A photo didn’t seem to work so he decided to record a short video of him playing with himself: his flesh hand going up and down slowly on his full length. He couldn’t help but let a low moan when his hand brushed against the head. Fuck, imagining her seeing this… The idea turned him on even more. He got so excited that he forgot to check the video before sending it.

>> Fuck, James.

>> Fuck fuck fuck.

>> Your voice is so fucking hot.

>> And you are so aroused. Is it all for me?

<< It’s all for you, doll.

<< This is what you do to me. All the time.

<< God, I wish you were here.

Bunny or Doll, he had no idea which one suits her better, sent a video as the response: her fingers, two of them, going in and out inside her. She was going pretty fast, indicating she had been doing this for a while, and there was a faint moaning in the background, which Bucky couldn’t get enough of. He watched the video twice before answering.

>> You are gonna be the death of me.

>> Are those fingers enough? Do you want a third one or maybe you would rather have a big dildo inside?

<< I would rather have you inside me.

After this point, everything felt like a blur. Things got out of hand, they kept exchanging photos and videos until they both got pretty powerful orgasms. Yet James found himself wanting more. So much more than she probably wanted to offer.

>>> Next Chapter

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absolutebl · 1 year ago

Text

Pit Babe - it's time for a Trash Watch!

I had to. Well, no I didn't, but COME ON. It's like Thailand is negging me. Let's burn rubber, shall we? Burn rubbers...?

The things I had been told going in about this show:

it's about car racing (this bores me)

it stars Pavel (my BL ult bias, he is my icon for a reason)

it started as an omegaverse y-novel but the A/B/O aspects would be stripped from the BL series

it's high heat

(There some chatter about whether point 3 was a mistranslation of something the author said, but don't bother me with trifles.)

Here's a definition of omegaverse:

Omegaverse, also known as A/B/O (alpha/beta/omega), is a subgenre of speculative erotic fiction, and originally a subgenre of erotic slash fan fiction. Its premise is that a dominance hierarchy exists in humans, which are divided into dominant "alphas", neutral "betas", and submissive "omegas".[1] This hierarchy determines how people interact with one another in romantic, erotic and sexual contexts.[2] (Wikipedia)

In my experience and opinion, omegaverse archetypes and tropes are often used to strip out female characters (and The Feminine) and as a tool to excuse extreme hyper-masculine behaviors without a critical feminist lens (leading to lazy characterization). Just as heat is an excuse to get nkd quickly, A/O/B is often an excuse for taboo and dubious consent actions and behaviors. Do I get why writers/readers enjoy it? Yes I do. Do I personally like it? Not particularly. (Although there are always exceptions.)

Putting all that aside, the above represents my foundational knowledge before Pit Babe started.

Oh and that the familiar BL faces appearing in this show were follows:

Pavel Naret (aka Pavel Phoom) from 2 Moons 2 & Coffee Melody - Pavel is a fluent English speaker, a bit of a drama monger, and a motorcycle rider/car-dude, this role suits him

Nut Supanut from Oxygen & Something in My Room - has an amazing voice, his somewhat wooden acting has improved steadily since Oxygen

Pon Thanapon - one of Star Hunter's stable first seen in the Gen Y series (where he stole the appeal of an intended pair), also v good in Make a Wish, I wish he'd get a lead role as he has a likable screen presence

Pop Pataraphol from La Cuisine - he's playing the Alpha rival and I'm not convinced he's suited to this role

Michael Kiettisak from Love Sick, Oxygen, Call it What You Want, Till the World Ends - playing the comic relief this time rather than his usual tortured stoic... huh

All the rest are either fresh faces or older experienced actors. Interesting mix. They must have some money behind this.

And now, get out your marshmallows! The dumpster is on fire! Let's start the roast.

Episode 1 - Platypus, Pickles, Pavel, & other Smoking Hot Problems

This first segment told with a 4 day retrospect, because I decided to do a trash watch only after @aliceisathome said I should.

My initial reaction:

the sheer audacity of Thailand being like "PitBabe is not omegaverse" and then serving "Alpha" to us on a platter in the first sex scene is

how dare

but also

what the actual fuck is going on? what world are we living in where a/b/o is LIVE ACTION ON OUR SCREENS?

we getting heat, knotting & mpreg next?

apparently this is my reality now

I'm not sure what weird quantum time stream I've jumped into but someone was all,

yes the whole world is hella screwed, but also...

Thailand has decided live action mm fanfic is gonna win it the culture wars

and I'm beginning to think they may be right

BL is now the platypus of the film industry

4 days later:

Considering how much chatter this caused there's a part of me that wondered if it was all intentional and a marketing ploy (to say it wasn't omegaverse when obviously it is). In which case... brilliant Machiavellian tactics, production.

But Thai studios are rarely this calculated in their promo. So I think it's all accidental. But it certainly caused a raucous few days on Tumblr.

On a completely different note, Babe's house looks like it started life as a particularly inventive Olive Garden. Or is that just me?

More random thoughts:

Pavel has had work done, why honey? You were the definition of perfect.

The smell thing is great, I love stuff to do with scent and necks. If omegaverse brings this to the table, fine. But...

Being all Alpha perfect butch manly man = I do not like Babe at all, I kinda want him to be brought down a peg. (Woo... pegging!) I never like narratives that glorify the captain of the football team (side eyes Cdrama CEO romances and Love O2O), Babe better have depth and damage (forget the pegging) of some kind or his behavior will get old FAST, faster than he drives (also, forget the pegging idea)

Nut is ideal in the Beta role. I mean, that's Way's character right? We all can see that. If it's not intentional, it's a miscast. I love how soft he is as as screen presence. He's great in this part.

None of the other characters are sticking out to me yet, but I'm prepared to love the side dishes in this, please make them swoon worthy!

I'm glad they didn't hold the Charlie = trickster reveal off, I like knowing he is a double agent up front.

Finally, with respect to an adequate trash watch, I'm in a pickle.

How am I going to drink for this show when there is so much else airing on Frigay? I can't keep track, if I'm drunk.

I need a strategy for this trash fire if the puns and snark are to spout forth! (HA Fourth!)

Controlled burn?

Anygay, see you all next week.

Episode 2 - Side Dish Addiction + Second Lead Syndrome are both infecting me at once

[FYI I gotta have my backup computer to watch this so that's why Imma sometimes be delayed getting the trash out to the curb.]

3 minutes! 3 minutes in and I needed to pause and wax snarkful. (Ouch, bet that hurts. Is waxing snark similar to a Brazilian but for BL? Is that why they all so hairless in The Sign?... I digress, where was I?)

Okay so the subber said Daddy but I don't think that word means what they think it means. Because Way said simply nong paa.

Usually they'll use the English word Daddy (pronounced Dah-deee) for, ya know, Actual Daddies (tm).

Wait wait:

Calling Daddy Actual

(My dumb sci-fi loving arse will see myself out the back before I start drawing Battlestar Galactica = Pit Babe connections. TOO FAR ABL. Too far.)

Look, I like the tension in this show. It's good to set up an unlikeable Alpha dog and then immediately turn him into an underdog, makes him a bit more likable. I still don't like Babe, but now at least I'm on his side.

Charlie = cute but v sus. Fortunately for him, Babe = cute but v thick.

Everyone calls Charlie Babe's dek. Yes sounds a bit like what you think but also means kid/child and SHOULD be translated as boy in this show. Why doesn't the subber get that? They a sub...ber after all. (I'll see myself out.)

Honestly, the script writers might know what they are doing with abo but our eng sub translator sadly does NOT. I'm so glad this is coming now in my BL watching life. When my ear and knowledge of Thai is so much better than it once was. Others much be SO CONFUSED.

Snicker. They just fucking with us, but it's fun to watch the mpeg speculation abound.

File this one under: Thailand's trouble with ESL plurals and also "you should have Pavel helping with these subs" sweethearts.

Production knows entirely what it's doing with this show and its omegaverse shizz (even if the subber doesn't) and I am very much enjoying the online carnage that results.

This dumpster fire continues off screen into the blogosphere and I continue to roast things over it.

Meanwhile, hi Pon! You so adorable! When you gonna lead out a BL for us?

Is Idol Factory stealing all of Star Hunter's talent? Are they the Red Racers of the BL world? These are the questions I ask myself as I watch this.

Is that AGE GAP I smell before me?

Is the 20 yr old college kid meant for the pit boss? Cause you all know I am a slut for age gaps.

Moment of a/b/o: Jeff's fear of touch/heightened personal space would be a plot marker for "baby doesn't want Alphas close cause he smells like an omega" but of course this show it not omegaverse. Not omegaverse at all.

nuh-uh

Linguistic corner!

Lung (sounds a bit like loo) is uncle(ish) it means basically a male relation older than phi. So Alan is the oldest in the crew.

Alan calls Jeff nu (which the subber translated as boy I would have gone with cutie or little one). Nu is a diminutive affectionate term that's technically gender neutral but is most often used by/on cute girls/women. Jeff did NOT like it. Then Alan sort of dodges through pronouns/particles settling on phi for I, ger for you, and ja for a particle. This is interesting because ger & ja kinda lower his age and status into a casual sphere. Not more intimate more equal to jeff... fascinating.

I love the new "Korean" red racer, he drinks my brand of soy milk. He is now my baby snake in the grass.

Get it? Snake.

He and Babe should end up together.

The fight wasn't bad, do both actors have kickbox training in their backgrounds?

Who am I kidding, I care only about Uncle Alan and Nu Jeff now. All others are irrelevant to me.

Also...

WHERE IS A BOY FOR WAY?!!! Or a Daddy. I do not care. (Methinks nether does he.)

I am now captain of the Way Appreciation Society. Let's all find a way... to get him some dick.

Also the BTS stingers are tons of fun. Looks like the set was a blast.

Finally, and I mean this kindly. Why isn't Noh Phouluang in this? He should have been cast as Winner. Bah. I'm biased.

But one should be with Noh.

Episode 3 - Side Dishes Delux

Gayest bridge n Thailand has made its obligatory appearance.

How much do I love uncle & nu? They are SO damn cute. Also nu flustered is the best kind of nu.

I could not care less about Babe and Charlie. Except I do love the smell thing.

Way will break my heart by getting his broken. He is right tho.

Tra la la. I feel like this is a bit like KP 2.0.

Charlie is a such a princess (and ace manipulator). Good thing Babe clearly likes being buttered up.

Babe's backstory was more interesting than I expected, I didn't think we would go so far into the paranormal side of a/b/o. I like it and I hope they lean into it quite a bit more. Make it part of the plot.

Unlike the kissing thing which seems to have been gotten over rather quickly.

I gotta say I'm enjoying the corporate sponsorship jockeying and tension more than I thought I would. I'm curious as to who Jef and Charlie are working for and what their motivation is. The plot itself is keeping me intrigued and that is rare for me with BL.

So no trash talk this ep, I was largely absorbed and entertained. I didn't event need booze. Shocking behavior on my part.

#giveWayaboy2023

Episode 4 - I (who never ship) am shipping the impossible

Here’s the thing. I just want this to be a better story than it is. Right now it’s kind of like a soap opera. I don’t hate lakorn, I really don't. To Sir With Love is a glorious chewing of the diamanté scenery (completed with death glitter). But...

If this is gonna be a soap opera it needs to lean into the messy side more than the tailored high concept side. Support characters and evil needs more screen time.

Instead, right now, I don’t know where I am with this show because it doesn't know where it wants to be. I’m kind of dangling in the middle of a dirty situation. It’s uncomfortable for me, and the show feels uncomfortable for the performers.

Also... I have questions.

Yes, of course I want to know what Charlie & Jeff are up to. Why can Jeff see the future?

But more importantly I NEED to know why Babe has a flying saucer bed?

That kind of lighting makes nobody look good, especially not at that angle. It’s very traumatic and I’m not wild about the shag rug either. I have concerns about Babe's taste. I guess is what I am saying.

On a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT note:

There’s absolutely no chemistry to justify this, but I have decided that I am going to personally advocate for, and ship, Way and the interloping not-really-Korean. They are both sort of own-moral-code types. I have tiny crush on Kim, and Nut is the prettiest, and Way is Best Boy so there it is, I would like them to hook up, please & thank you.

#giveWay2Kim2023

Arrow guy is cute, too. Will we get to see him bone?

Is he going to be another one of the adopted alpha super-kid pets?

What the hell, throw Arrow Boy a bone! All hot boys in BLs deserve bones.

Plot thickens.

Hah.

Thickens.

(I am an immature idiot.)

Episode 5 - wait wait way-t, can arrow boy have Way?

Look, BLabies, I didn’t get any screen caps this episode because frankly there wasn’t anything worth capturing.

I guess Charlie really does love Babe? Very dramatic if idiotic saving from the burning car. But Babe has gone to the broken Alpha place of extremely unlikeablability (frankly he was almost there at the start). If I were Charles B Spectacled I would be OUT by now.

Is that?

NO.

Don't get the plastic bowl.

No white towel sponge bath. Please kill this trope.

I mean, it's not as bad as singing, but that's because NOTHING is as bad as singing in a Thai BL.

AND the main boys are back together.

I don’t find their relationship or Babe’s lack of senses a particularly interesting aspect of the plot.

Unless, of course, Babe is pregnant and that's why he lost his Alpha sniffer.

BUT I do love the sides.

Jeff = the introvert precog who can’t/wont do people and Alan = the extrovert people person who WANTS but doesn’t understand him.

Were Jeff and Charlie ALSO raised by Evil Daddy MacEvilPants?

I liked the way Arrow CEO & Way looked at each other. Way, hon, give up on Babe (he sucks) and get thyself a billionaire bf with great aim and BDE.

On a completely different note, the best thing about this show is the blooper reel. That thing with the green smoothie going down his pants was hilarious!

In conclusion, this was a green smoothie down the pants episode. I was entertained, and it’s probably gonna be good for the plot in retrospect, but it was kind of squishy and unpleasant at the time.

Episode 6 - Are they actually listening to us now? Is Tumblr bugged?

This was a fun ep full of like actual racing and shizz.

Whatever.

Charlie is on the team now. All the teams, apparently.

Can we talk about Jeff and Alan?

The apology scene! Did you hear that Alan dropped to chan/ger? Eeeee!!! So cute. (He equalized their relationship in a soft way.)

Get it with that language play hottie. Next up: lengua play.

Please & thank you.

Meanwhile, as all of the Internet knows, they went fully in for omegaverse - no bars.

I have to say, one of the greatest typos (or whatever) in existence is enigma instead of omega.

That's where I personally would rank in the omegaverse.

Hello, my gender is... enigma.

Apparently it's a/b/o and sometimes e! Also sometimes switch-ee

Oh I'm very proud of myself with that one.

Funfunfun

Charlie. Babes. When a man asks to be thrown up against the wall. You throw him against that wall.

OMG is that arrow boy looking at Way in the bar?

3 seconds later.

Noooo.

Wait come back.

Noooooo.

That’s what I actually want to watch!

OMG. Who said nu was the first step to teelak?

I flipping love Alan.

Ah the boyfriend ep. Thank you, but I still don't trust Charlie.

Poor Way.

But nice crying jag, and I don’t say that often in Thai BL.

Now let him go, Way.

A boy with his arrows is waiting.

(source)

Note for the future: tumblr has a bug that stops allowing edits after a certain time/number, thus my full trash often occur in 2 segments as a result. Click on the "abl trash watches bl" tag for the full thing if you're reading this and later episodes are missing.

#pit babe the series #pit babe #thai bl #abl trash watches bl #Pavel Naret Promphaopun #pavel phoom #trash watch #2023 bl #currently airing bl #watch along #Nut Supanut #Pon Thanapon #พิษเบ๊บ

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jessybarnes · 1 year ago

Text

Forbidden Love

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Severus Snape x Reader

Rating: 18+ Only

Word count: Over 5k

Tags: Acromantula, mentions of blood, death of a mythical creature, gore, angst, fluff, smut, bullying, broken bones, hippogriffs, unicorns, fluffy, centaurs, syringes, major character injury, near-death experience, age gap, teacher/18-year-old student relationship, unprotected sex, fingering, begging, forced reveal of feelings, forbidden forest, family drama, and I think that’s it.

Beta: @winecatsandpizza

A/N: This is a repost from one of my old Tumblr accounts. I altered the timeline a little to make this flow better. I realize that Gilderoy lost his memory during the Chamber of Secrets era. I also realize that Severus didn't take on the DADA teaching position until Harry's 6th year. I just wanted to make that clear for everyone. :) Enjoy!

"Hmm…difficult, very difficult. Mmm yes, lots of ambition and very loyal too. A hint of creativity, but you seem to mask it well with your bravery...”

As the sorting hat’s voice echoed throughout the Great Hall, your mind began to flood with the past week’s events.

It was the day after your eighteenth birthday when you discovered your Hogwarts letter. Your grandmother had been a great witch and even taught at Hogwarts after she finished her seventh year. From the moment you were born, she knew you were destined for good things. Your parents had forbidden her from using magic around you and even went so far as to hide your letter of acceptance on your eleventh birthday. It wasn’t until you were going through some of your childhood toys in the attic that you came across it.

The letter was stuck to the back of an old photo album, and the writing had nearly faded completely. You ran your fingers over the yellowing parchment, the tip of your index finger raising slightly as it slid over the sealing wax. You recognized the symbol immediately. Your grandmother had it all over her house, and you’d thought it to be your family’s crest. The wax gave way easily and you pulled the letter out as carefully as you could. Your heart began to race and your breath caught in your throat. The letter was for you! You had been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

You blinked and brought yourself back to reality, the hat seemed to be finishing up his assessment.

“...better make it...Slytherin!”

The table full of students to the far right of the hall erupted in cheer as you walked towards them. You took your seat and after the rest of the first years were sorted into their houses, the Headmaster approached the podium. He raised his hands and without saying a word, the whole room went silent.

“Welcome! Welcome, everyone! It is my great pleasure to start off a new school year with a few minor changes. As many of you know, Gilderoy Lockhart is no longer capable of teaching. It seems a memory charm backfired and he’s lost all memory of who he is. Be that as it may, I am very pleased to announce that our own Severus Snape will be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

Your eyes scanned the teachers at the head table and stopped when they landed on a man who looked slightly younger than the others. He stood and nodded ever so slightly before taking his seat again. Your gaze lingered on him as Professor Dumbledore continued on with his speech.

“Thus it’s only fitting that the one and only Professor Horace Slughorn takes Severus’ place as Potions teacher.”

Another professor stood up from the table and smiled as a round of applause reverberated off the walls.

“Now that we’ve determined who will be teaching what subject, I have an additional announcement to make. All students will refrain from entering the forbidden forest. Anyone who isn’t experienced enough to handle themselves will most certainly die a very horrible death. Now, without further interruption, let the feast begin!”

With a wave of his hand, the empty plates filled with a delicious-looking meal. You ate quietly as the other Slytherins talked and carried on. Every so often, you turned to look at the mysterious man with the all-black attire. Mysterious didn’t even begin to describe him. Even though it wasn’t classified as magic, you had always found yourself skilled in reading people.

He looked particularly confident, his shoulder-length, black hair bouncing slightly as he talked amongst the other teachers. There was just something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Was it pain? The very moment you thought the word to yourself, his eyes snapped up to yours. Horrified that you were caught staring, you quickly turned your attention to your plate. Had he read your mind?

Deciding not to dwell on it any longer, you continued eating your meal thinking about the new chapter in your life. Though you didn’t know much about Hogwarts and the world of magic, you did know that this house, in particular, had a bad reputation. Your grandmother was a Ravenclaw, and would sometimes divulge knowledge about the other houses. The one thing you remembered about Slytherin was that its founder believed only certain people should be allowed to attend this school and practice magic.

Purebloods.

You were the farthest thing from being a pureblood. In fact, you were what other witches and wizards would call a Muggle. That was another thing you learned from your grandma. Muggle was a term used to describe someone who had non-magic blood, or the less liked derogatory name, mud-blood. The fork in your left hand scraped across your plate as you pushed your food around aimlessly.

Why on Earth would the sorting hat put you in Slytherin?

Soon, dinner was over and the prefects led the students back to their respective common rooms. You followed the other female students to the girl’s dormitory and found your trunk and owl had already been brought in. Nova chirped and tilted her head when she saw you, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Miss me already, sweetheart? Well, I missed you too.”

The soft feathers on her head slid between your fingers while you talked to her. Even though she didn’t talk back, it was always nice to feel like someone was listening.

You settled on your bed and began drawing in your sketchpad as the other girls in your room talked amongst themselves. Their conversation hardly registered with you, your focus solely on the drawing of Nova you were currently working on. It wasn’t until one of the other girls tapped you on your shoulder that you noticed they were talking to you.

“Hellooo? Were you even listening to us?”

You set your sketch pad next to you on the bed and looked up at the three girls staring at you intently.

“S-Sorry, I didn’t realize you were talking to me. I was um … I was focused on my drawing.”

The girl closest to you rolled her eyes and huffed impatiently.

“I said, why aren’t you eleven like the other first years?”

There it was, the question you knew would be asked eventually. You just didn’t think you’d have to answer it this soon.

“My um… Well, I suppose it’s because my parents hid my acceptance letter from me.”

The one with the blonde hair began to laugh.

“Why that’s absurd. Why anyone would hide a Hogwarts letter from their child is beyond me. Unless… wait… are you, not a pureblood?”

A sudden feeling of shame overtook you and your gaze wandered to your lap, a loose string on your blanket became instantly more interesting.

“I-I… Well, no… I’ve got non-magic parents actually.”

The third girl scoffed. “Daphne, can you believe they let scum like this into our house?”

Blondie, who you presumed to be Daphne, snatched your sketchbook off the bed and tore it in two, and laughed. “Serves her right. Mud-bloods don’t belong in Slytherin.”

She drew her wand and pushed the tip into the skin of your throat making your whole body quake in fear.

“Listen up you vile little wretch, you’d better not lose us any house points if you value your life at all. Understand?”

Tears pricked your eyes as you nodded quickly. “Y-Yes… Yes, I-I understand.”

She removed her wand and the two other girls followed close behind as they left the room. Closing your eyes, you took a few deep breaths trying to slow the rapid beating of your heart. A few minutes later, you let out a shaky breath and began to clean up the remnants of your sketch pad. Luckily, this was a brand new one and Daphne hadn’t torn up anything too valuable.

Once you were finished, you slipped on your shoes and held out your arm to Nova. She chirped happily and sidestepped to your shoulder. Staying in your room anywhere near the other Slytherin girls was the last thing you wanted to do, so you decided to explore the castle grounds a little before bed. After all, it was only Friday night, and classes didn’t start for another two weeks.

The crisp, fall air licked at your skin the moment you stepped out into the courtyard. It felt good to breathe the fresh air and you suspected that Nova felt the same. She immediately took flight and let out a happy screech. Part of you envied her. Being able to soar as high as the clouds away from all the negativity was something you could only dream of doing.

You wandered around the castle grounds until you spotted a hut nestled at the edge of a tree line. The stone exterior and the pointed roof reminded you of the fairytales your parents used to read as bedtime stories when you were little. Light grey smoke billowed out of the chimney and you could faintly hear someone humming. Curiosity got the better of you, and you soon found yourself at the foot of the steps.

Before you could knock, the front door swung open and none other than Hagrid looked down at you.

“Why ‘ello there, lass! Teh what do I owe yeh the pleasure?”

You’d only known him for a few hours, but you could tell that Hagrid had a big heart and good intentions.

“I just needed some fresh air that's all. Things are… a bit much in my house.”

Hagrid studied you as you spoke. It didn’t take a genius to know something was bothering you, and he saw right through the fake smile plastered on your face.

“Why don’t yeh come in fer a spot of tea? I can tell something is troublin’ yeh.”

It became a sort of routine, the evenings you’d spend with the Hogwarts groundskeeper. After Hagrid had learned the way the other Slytherins were treating you, he’d made it clear that you could spend the night in his spare room any time you needed to. You insisted on paying him for his hospitality, but he always refused. All he had ever asked in return was help taking care of the mythical creatures. Most would probably view it as a chore, but you found it extremely therapeutic.

Friday evening before school started, you noticed Hagrid was missing from the teacher’s table. After dinner, you jogged along the path to his house and noticed the lights inside his hut were off.

Hmm...that’s weird, you thought to yourself.

Normally, he’d be making a pot of tea right about now. Tentatively, you walked up the steps and lightly knocked on his door.

“Hagrid? Hey, are you home? It’s Y/N…” You tried the door, and it opened easily. “Hagrid? I’m coming in…”

Fang peeked at you over his paw and yawned lazily. Other than the glow of the fire, nothing showed signs that he was home. As quietly as you could you walked to the back towards his bedroom. There, wrapped up in blankets and looking beyond miserable, was the half-giant himself.

“Oh, Hagrid… what’s the matter? You look like you feel awful.”

He coughed and sneezed a few times before blowing his nose into a hankey. His skin was clammy, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“I’m sick, lass. Yeh shouldn’t come near me if ye know what’s good fer ya.”

Out of instinct you put the underside of your wrist against his forehead and grimaced.

“Hagrid, you’re burning up! Come on! We have to get you to Madame Pomfrey.”

You helped him stand and carefully started to lead him toward the castle. It took nearly fifteen minutes, but finally, you were able to get him to the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey motioned to a bed and helped you lay him down. She insisted that she keep him overnight so she could monitor him, but Hagrid was having none of it.

“No! Absolutely not! I can’t stay ‘ere overnight. Who’ll feed Fang an all me other beasts? Buckbeak ain’t the nicest Hippogriff when he’s missed a meal yeh know.”

Your hand came down to cover his as you looked him in the eyes.

“Hagrid, please...stay here and let Madame Pomfrey take care of you. I’ll take care of feeding them tonight, okay? It’s not like I haven’t helped you make your rounds for the past week and a half.”

The groundskeeper sighed with defeat and nodded.

“Alright Y/N, I’ll stay an let yeh take care o’ my pets, but yeh have ta promise me you’ll be careful.”

You gave him a soft smile and stood to smooth out your robes. “Don’t worry, Hagrid. I’ll be quick and efficient just like you taught me. I even made myself a list so I remember which animal eats what as well as where they’re all located. I’ve got this!”

Before he could change his mind, you hurried out of the room and back to his hut to grab what you needed. According to the list, you had five different species to feed tonight. The unicorns, Buckbeak the hippogriff, Fluffy the three-headed dog, the centaurs, and Aragog the acromantula.

None of these mythical beasts ever acted like they were harmful, but they weren’t to be taken lightly either. Not to mention you were with Hagrid every time you’d fed them before. After loading up the bags with their food, you made sure you had your wand before approaching the edge of the forest. It didn’t matter what time of day it was, the shadow from the trees always made the forest dark and a thin layer of mist lingered near the forest floor.

Fluffy was first on your list. His doghouse was about fifty feet within the forest. Brandishing your wand, you cast Lumos Maxima and took the trail to the west. A few minutes later, you could hear light snores echoing off the trees. Making sure you had the three slabs of meat at the ready, you whistled to get the giant beast’s attention.

"Fluffy! I got you some dinner!"

The dog's left head yawned enthusiastically and you couldn't help but chuckle.

"Alright, that's enough sleeping. It's time for some yummy meat!"

The middle head began to growl and bare its teeth at you while the one on the right shook its head back and forth violently.

"There we go, nice and easy…" You slowly got closer and gently set the slabs of meat within his reach before backing off."

You stuck around long enough to make sure he saw the food and then walked north towards the part of the forest where unicorns made their homes. It surprised you to learn that they preferred witches over wizards. Hagrid had told you that they were very fast, so much so that they could outrun a werewolf.

Instead of trying to seek them out, he set up feed pails around their homes and filled them with food. As you were filling the pails, you saw a golden blur out of the corner of your eye. It startled you at first, but then you remembered Hagrid telling you that unicorn fouls were gold in color.

Staying completely still, you waited until it poked its head out from behind the tree.

"Hi, sweetheart. You want some food?"

At the mention of food, the foul whinnied and slowly approached your outstretched hand. It broke your heart that these beautiful creatures were nearly extinct. You gave light scratches to the tufts of fur behind its ears, the serene moment nearly making you forget where you were.

After hand-feeding the baby for a few minutes, you quickly filled the rest of the pails before heading towards the centaurs. Hagrid always made sure you remembered how proud the centaur breed was. They didn't like to be classified as "beasts" along with thestrals, merfolk, or werewolves. They also ate both human and equine food.

It was a good thing you remembered to grab both types. You didn't want to upset them at all, let alone do so without Hagrid around to protect you. As you approached their den, a familiar face came to greet you.

"Good evening, Y/N."

Firenze stood tall as he looked down at you, his unwavering gaze making you a bit nervous.

"H-Hey! Sorry, it took me a bit to get here. Hagrid isn't feeling well, and I had to take him to the hospital wing."

The creature nodded and uncrossed his arms.

"That's quite alright. I see you brought my colony dinner."

You offered a smile and held out two big knapsacks of food. "I did! I wasn't sure what you would prefer so I came bearing a variety of things...I-I hope that's okay."

Firenze chuckled and placed one of his large hands on your shoulder. "That's very kind of you, Y/N. Please give Hagrid my best. I do hope he recovers quickly."

With a nod and a wave, you watched him until he was out of sight.

Adjusting the bag on your shoulder, you turned east and walked in the direction of the area Buckbeak frequented. You’d come to love the Hippogriff ever since Hagrid introduced you to him. It only took you about five minutes to navigate the trail before you could hear the excited bleats coming from a group of trees. Making sure to stop the moment you crested the hill, you made eye contact with Buckbeak and bowed low.

The Hippogriff turned and tilted its head momentarily and then bowed in return. You took the dead ferrets out of the bag and tossed them in the air for him to catch. When you ran out he nudged the side of your face and chirped happily.

“Yes, I love you too, Beaky. You’re a good boy!”

Kissing his beak sweetly, you bade him goodnight and walked south toward the heart of the forest. Time to feed the final species on your list.

Aragog.

Even though they were capable of human speech, acromantulas were the one beast you had a fear of. As you approached Aragog’s lair, hundreds of tiny spiders crawled on the ground next to you. Taking a few deep breaths to compose yourself, you crept into the pitch-black den with your senses on high alert. At the heart of it sat the beast himself.

“Who dares to come into my home?”

With a shaky hand, you reached into your bag and quickly pulled out a dead fox as an offering.

“A-Aragog? It’s um…it’s Y/N, the one who has been coming with Hagrid to feed you. I have umm… I have some birds and foxes for you.”

The large arachnid stalked closer to you, its eyes like black holes as it seemed to stare into your soul.

“Yes… the young fleshy girl who claims to be a friend of Hagrid. Tell me, where is my keeper? What have you done to him?”

The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end and your fight or flight instincts began to kick in.

“I-I-I didn’t do anything to him. He… he isn’t feeling well and I told him I’d come and bring you dinner…”

You hadn’t realized you were backing up until your heel caught a crooked root poking through the ground. Pain shot through your ankle as you fell against the floor of the den. Aragog clicked his fangs together and you flinched as his voice boomed around you angrily.

“I don’t believe you! I’ve known Hagrid for over fifty years, and not once has he missed a feeding!”

As graceful as your sprained ankle would allow, you scrambled to your feet and dumped the dead birds and foxes on the ground in front of you.

“H-Here’s your food… I… I’m just gonna go…”

The venom from his fangs began to drip on the ground as he moved even closer to you.

“Go? Oh, I don’t think so, friend of Hagrid. Those foxes and birds may sate my son's and daughter's hunger, but they won't satisfy me."

Ignoring the throb in your injured foot, you clambered out of the den as fast as you could. Branches swatted you in the face as you sprinted toward Hagrid's hut. Aragog was hot on your heels as the castle grounds became more and more visible. Just a few more feet and you'd be safe.

A rotted tree trunk caught your eye, but it was too late for you to avoid it. You hit the ground with a sickening thud, your wrist that broke your fall was surely broken. Turning to face the fastly approaching acromantula, you pleaded for him to stop.

"Aragog, please! ….I...I didn't do anything to Hagrid… please don't hurt me!"

The giant spider loomed over you, its fangs clicking together violently.

"Goodbye, friend of Hagrid…"

You let out a blood-curdling scream as its pincers tore into your flesh, the moonlight fading away until you slipped into unconsciousness.

Nights were usually the time Severus took to think. It was his free time, save for the occasional disobedient student wandering the corridors. He'd just walked past the open courtyard when a small owl flew down to land on his shoulder.

"Get off me you insolent bird!"

It let out a screech and circled him before settling on his other arm.

"Merlin’s beard, what is it that you want?!"

Just as he was about to send it away, he noticed a small charm bracelet attached to the owl's left leg. Curious, he cast Lumos and read the inscription.

Name: Nova Jane

Property of: Y/F/N Y/L/N

"I see...you're the property of the new Slytherin girl. Go on then! Go back to the dormitory."

Nova nipped at the buttons on his sleeve and screeched loudly. Just as Severus was about to scare it off, your scream echoed throughout the castle grounds.

"Take me to her! Now!"

Nova took flight and soared in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. Severus ran as quickly as he could, his robes flowing behind him like a cape. His heart thundered against his chest as he broke through the treeline.

The moment he saw Hagrid's acromantula towering over you, he drew his wand and aimed for its head.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The spell sent Aragog catapulting backward, its body falling lifeless against the base of a large tree.

Seeing you lying there motionless made his blood run cold.

"Oh, Merlin…no no no..."

He sank down in the mud and put two fingers against your neck, a breath of relief falling from his lips when a faint pulse fluttered against them. His eyes scanned your body, worry prickling his skin at the number of deep cuts you had. He knew you wouldn't survive if he didn't act now.

With a shaky hand, he pointed his wand to the deep gash in your abdomen.

"Vulnera sanentur…"

A glow illuminated from it and within seconds it was as if the wound never existed. He did the same for the other large wounds as well as your wrist and ankle before lifting you into his arms. He may have stopped the bleeding, but you still had the acromantula's venom flowing freely in your veins. He only had a few minutes to reverse the toxins.

Closing his eyes, he apparated to his sleeping chambers and gently laid you on his bed. Severus worked quickly to mix up the antivenom. Once it was mixed properly, he used a syringe to inject it into all of your main arteries.

It became a waiting game. You'd lost a lot of blood, nearly too much, and all Severus could do now was hope you'd wake up. He found himself pacing, checking your pulse every so often to make sure you were still breathing. Eventually, the adrenaline in his body wore off, and it made him realize how tired he was.

He shed his robe, toed his shoes off, and with a snap of his fingers, a fire began to crackle and pop in the fireplace. He sat and pondered to himself. What was he supposed to do with you? It wasn't like he could take you to Madame Pomfrey now. Not after he'd healed you the best he could. Plus, he was sure the other Hogwarts staff would question him on why he took you back to his chambers. Honestly, he wasn't even sure why he'd done it. He acted on pure instinct.

His gaze wandered over to where you were laying. Severus felt himself relax upon seeing your chest rise and fall. He'd done it. He'd saved you. His eyes began to get heavy as he listened to your soft breathing. Unable to stay awake any longer, he let sleep consume him.

The smell of tea filled your nostrils as you tried to recall where you were. Last night's events flooded your mind and your eyes immediately snapped open.

Scanning the room, your brows furrowed in confusion. This wasn't the hospital wing, and it definitely wasn't Hagrid's. You sat up, your back against the headboard, and scanned your exposed skin. Other than a few bruises, there wasn't any sign of injury on you at all. Had it all been a dream?

The sound of the door opening brought you out of your thoughts. Your eyes widened at the sight of your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher carrying a teacup and saucer.

"Oh, you're up. Good." He strode over and set the cup down on the nightstand next to you. "Drink this. It'll help you feel better."

You blinked up at him, your eyes staring into his obsidian ones. Even though he wore a scowl ninety percent of the time, your professor wasn't bad looking. In fact, you found him quite attractive. His form-fitting robes with all those buttons and his confidence drew you in almost immediately.

It was then that you remembered he'd spoken to you. Forcing your brain to form words, you stuttered out a response.

"I...um…th-thank you, Professor…"

His stone-faced expression didn't waver as he sat down on the comforter next to you.

"Why, Y/N? Why would you put yourself in danger like that?! You could have been killed! Merlin, if it wasn't for your insolent bird, you would have been!"

You focused on your lap, your cheeks red with shame.

"M'sorry… I was just t-trying to help Hagrid fe-"

You slapped your hand over your mouth and internally cursed yourself. Hagrid made you promise not to tell anyone you were helping him, and here you've almost told none other than Professor Snape!

"Go on…"

Shaking your head, you moved to get off the bed.

"I… I can't… Thank you for saving me, Professor. I'll just be going…"

His firm hand came to rest on your thigh and with little force, he pushed you back down onto the bed.

"Listen to me, Y/N. I'm your Head of House. Either you tell me what you were doing in that forest, or I'll make you tell me."

The demand in his tone sent shivers down your spine. It really should be a sin to have a voice like his.

"I-I...um…"

Severus rolled his eyes and stood to walk across the room. He came back with a vial, with a small amount of liquid in the bottom.

"Know what this is?"

You shook your head.

"This is Veritaserum. Three drops of this, and it'll make you spill your darkest...of secrets…"

You watched as he poured the small amount of liquid into a glass of butterbeer.

"Drink…"

Instead of obeying his orders you grabbed the teacup off the saucer and swallowed its contents.

"Thank you, Professor, but I’m no longer thirsty and I don't like butterbeer."

For the first time since you arrived at Hogwarts, his lips gave a hint of a smile.

"It's no matter. What do you suppose I did with the rest of the serum, hm?"

All the color drained from your face, your mouth opening and closing like you were a fish out of water.

"The tea…"

Your professor chuckled, "Yes, the tea. Now, tell me, what were you doing in the Forbidden Forest after curfew?"

You couldn't stop them. It was as if you were possessed. The words came flowing out of you on their own accord.

"I was helping Hagrid feed his mythical creatures. He's in the infirmary sick and I offered to do it so he didn't have to."

Severus narrowed his eyes. "How long have you been doing this?"

You swallowed thickly. “Since the first day of school. Some of the other Slytherin girls were bullying me so I went for a walk. It was then that I formally met Hagrid. He offered me his spare bedroom, and I’ve been sleeping there ever since…”

He rose to his feet and began pacing again, his hands behind his back. “And he lets you stay...for free?”

“I can stay as long as I help him tend to the mythical creatures that live in the forest. He taught me everything he knows and I help him with feedings.”

Severus stopped and turned to face you. “Did you ever think of coming to me for help with the bullying? I am the Head of Slytherin you know.”

Oh, how you wished you could hold back the words threatening to escape. No matter how hard you tried, it was no use.

“I was too nervous to come to you, Professor.”

He raised an eyebrow, his hands fidgeting out in front of him. He knew his presence intimidated most of the children attending Hogwarts, but he decided to use this to his advantage.

“Obviously...And why, do you suppose, I make you so nervous, Y/N?”

“I suppose it’s because I’m in love with you.”

Your response came out just above a whisper, but he still heard every word. Out of every scenario in his mind, Severus did not expect you, a young woman, to say that. For a rare moment in his life, he was rendered speechless. It took him a moment to collect himself, but once he did he noticed your face was buried in your hands. Merlin, help him, you were crying and it was all his fault.

He slowly moved to where you were laying and sat down so he was at your level. Without giving it any thought, he pulled you into his chest and began rubbing small circles on your back to soothe you.

“Merlin, what was I thinking? I shouldn’t have forced the truth out of you like that. Please...forgive me.”

You clutched at his robes and moved your tear-filled eyes to his.

“I forgave you the moment it happened, Professor.”

A few silent moments passed between the two of you and he continued to hold your gaze. Severus was the first to move. Ever so slowly, he leaned down to capture your lips.

His mouth melded with yours perfectly, and he didn’t stop until his lungs demanded it. Your eyes closed, your forehead coming to rest against his.

“Professor I-”

He silenced you with another chaste kiss. “Severus…Call me Severus, Y/N.”

“Please Severus…make love to me.”

His resolve broke the moment the plea fell from your lips. Severus gently laid you back and gently rid you of your tattered robes. His calloused hands slid over your smooth skin making your breath hitch. He peppered kisses down into the crook of your neck, his path moving to the space between your breasts.

“S-Severus...please…need you…”

He nipped playfully at your jaw and sat up slightly to take his shirt off.

“Patience, Y/N… I’ll take care of you.”

Once he was bare before you he made his way between your legs. His touch was tentative, his fingertips brushing your folds gingerly. He circled your clit making you arch off the bed.

“Oh, Merlin!... Fuck!”

Severus chuckled and slid two of his fingers inside you curling them upwards.

“Bloody hell, you’re soaked, Y/N…”

He easily found the sensitive spot inside of you, the coil in your core winding tighter and tighter with each passing second.

“Please! Oh…shit… Se-Severus! M’gonna cum… please… please make me cum!”

His cock twitched at your words, precum leaking from the tip.

“Let go, Y/N...cum for me…”

With a cry of his name, you fell over the edge. Your chest heaved as you pulled him up for a heated kiss.

“Need you, Sev. Need you inside me. Please…”

As carefully as he could, Severus lined himself up and pushed into you.

“Merlin, you’re so tight!”

His thrusts were steady and his kisses were fervent as he made love to you.

“Oh, fuck! Sev! Oh, you’re so good… so good, baby…”

Both of you wanted it to last, but it was clear you both needed the release more.

“Y/N, I won’t last much longer like this… you feel amazing...so amazing.”

You slid your fingers through his thick hair and pulled his mouth down to yours. “Cum with me, Severus…”

A moment later, both of you soared into bliss together. His lips rested against your own and his body shook as he spilled into you, your walls clenching around his cock. Severus was spent as he settled behind you, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist.

“Y/N, I need to know you’re okay with this...with us…”

Threading your fingers with his, you planted a sweet kiss on the back of his hand.

“Severus, our love may be forbidden, but I’d choose you no matter what it cost me. I’ll take you as you are. Your highs, your lows, all of it. I’ll love you until my last breath.”

He turned you in his arms and cupped your cheek.

“I never thought I’d ever love another. Not after Lily, but seeing you in the forest like that sparked something in me. Something I haven’t felt for nearly fourteen years. I’ll spend forever protecting and loving you.

As your eyes grew heavy, you felt a new sense of worth. Coming to Hogwarts was something you’d only dreamed of growing up. The moment you found your acceptance letter, you knew your life would change. You never thought you’d find someone to love here, but for once you were happy, and that’s all you’d ever wanted.

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kaylinelizabeth4004 · 1 year ago

Text

Heaven is Here

SYNOPSIS: Through many fleeting moments throughout history with a strange woman, Aziraphale and Crowley learn they accidentally trapped a human soul to Earth, stuck to reincarnate forever.

TAGS: Aziraphale x Crowley x Reader, fluff, slight angst, soulmate au (on accident), history, historical settings, no beta we die like men

WORD COUNT : 12,253

A/N: This fic is kind of accidental. I’ve always been more about Aziraphale/Crowley in this fandom than any reader insert, but one day I happened upon a Tumblr fanfic and had an idea. This probably won’t be a regular thing - except I am planning a sequel to this exact fic - but I thought why not. Im still more Aziraphale/Crowley.

55BC—————

"And you love this?" Crowley asked, holding the seafood up to the light as though it would reveal to Aziraphale all the disgusting little details.

"It's delightful!" Aziraphale insisted, showing Crowley how to eat the oyster. "Try it, dearest. You might just enjoy it."

Crowley pursed his lips, not wanting to put whatever the hell this was in his mouth. But Aziraphale was looking at him with those eyes. He didn't know how describe them, and he didn't want to analyze how they made his heart hurt inside his vessel's chest. So he closed his eyes and ate the damned thing.

He put a hand over his mouth to stop the gagging. This Angel's taste was not quite normal if this is what he considered fine dining. He tried to smile politely, to not let him know that it was utter horseshit.

"You don't like it," Aziraphale said with a rather disappointed voice.

"N-No, I don't," Crowley said, and he didn't know why but he was sad to disappoint the angel. He was just trying to be kind after all, it wasn't as though he had properly sinned. But why would a demon feel bad for an angel? That went against his lot's whole thing.

However, Crowley found a wicked part of him that liked pissing off his lot. He'd never put it in as many words however.

"Pity, they are quite delectable."

"Sure, angel," Crowley said, sipping a large mouthful of wine. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, eating and drinking as they'd like. Then Crowley looked up to Aziraphale's soft "ahem." He was pointing behind Crowley, and when he turned he saw what caused it.

A young woman was sat in the corner, a large glass of wine in her hands, and she was weeping to herself. It wasn't loud or particularly noticeable, if it wasn't for the tear tracks down her cheeks, glittering as they caught the light. She was looking at her lap and sipping the wine, balking at the taste yet coming back for more.

"She looks happy," Crowley said.

"She looks sad! You demons need to learn the proper emotions."

Crowley stared at Aziraphale for a moment, wondering if he was joking. Upon realizing that Aziraphale was, in fact, not joking Crowley said, "that was sarcasm, Angel."

"What was sarcasm?"

"My comment, 'she looks happy.' Of course she doesn't look happy that's why I said it."

Aziraphale furrowed his brows, "but your words meant the opposite of what you said."

"Exactly," Crowley said. And with a flourish he added, "it's called sarcasm."

"But why say something you don't mean? Isn't that lying?" Aziraphale asked, in all sincerity.

Crowley thought it over, "s'pose it could be seen that way. Most people view it as ironic."

"Oh, yes, of course." Aziraphale took an anxious sip of wine, looking back towards the girl.

"Angel..."

"Yes?" He was avoiding eye contact

"You don't know what ironic means, do you?"

Aziraphale pouted, "no I don't and I quite detest that you do."

"Ironic literally means saying the opposite of what you mean for some sort of point. Mine being that she looks downright miserable."

"Even though you said she looks happy." Aziraphale said slowly as he tracked that line of logic through his head.

"Right, even though I said she looks happy."

"And that's ironic?"

"Don't ya think?" Crowley said with a wide smile, his teeth appearing almost like he had pointed fangs.

"Why yes I do think-"

"Angel, that was irony."

"Oh." Aziraphale blinked rapidly a few times then sipped his wine, embarrassed he didn't know something that Crowley did know. He thought he was the knowledgeable of the two. "Well, sarcasm or not, we should help her."

"We?"

"Why - yes, we're both here and we see -"

"I don't help people," Crowley said quickly, his voice deep and harsh. "I'm a demon, I do the opposite of help."

"Well, yes but-"

"There are no buts with this. My lot were created to ruin your lots pickings. I pillage and plunder, that's my job." Crowley said this firmly as though it would make his point clearer. The more intense he was, the more his words seemed to slur together a bit.

Aziraphale paused for a moment, and Crowley wondered if he was about argue his point once more. "Isn't the phrase rape, pillage and plunder?"

"I don't do that. I'm not a monster," Crowley balked. He finished his wine and set the glass down. Throwing some money on the table he said, "sorry Angel. Got a priest to tempt. Catch you later."

"Oh, goodbye." Aziraphale said as Crowley ambled off through the restaurants doors. But despite himself, Aziraphale found himself smiling. Crowley wasn't truly all bad, even if he thought himself it. His gaze at the doors quickly moved over to the pretty girl weeping. She was still crying and her glass was a lot emptied.

Aziraphale got up, straightened his toga, and walked over to the girl. "Oh, um, hello. I'm -" oh shoot, he hadn't thought of this part yet. He had to quickly think of a name. Instantly his eyes shot up to the art above her, a fleece. Aha! "Jason. My name is Jason. Pardon the intrusion, but I couldn't help but notice you're upset."

She sniffled, setting the glass down on the table. Aziraphale was struck by her face, now that he could see it not turned down and hidden. She was pretty. She eyed him warily, "Yeah, what's it to you?"

Aziraphale sat down on the chair opposite her, "I wondered if I might be able to help."

She laughed bitterly, "only if you can stop the Emperor." Aziraphale's eyebrows raised at that and she rushed to cover for herself, "oh no, I didn't mean that. All Hail the Caesar and what not. He's doing a mighty fine job."

"It's certainly not a 'mighty fine job' if he's got you crying as such."

"No, I s'pose not."

"What can I do for you?"

"Nothing," she said honestly, wiping the tears away quickly. "Honestly, Jason, I appreciate the thought but what's done is done. You can't change the past."

Aziraphale made a face in slight disagreement, though he knew he couldn't explain that to a human female. "Then perhaps telling someone will make you feel better. I harbor no connection with the Emperor, your opinions are quite safe with me."

She stared up at him after he said this, looking him truly in the eyes as though they told her all she needed to know. Then she did speak. "It's this invasion on Britain. My father and brother were both sent off and I worry. I've heard horrible things about the natives, truly barbaric things like removing of one's head. I don't want them to be hurt. Especially my brother, he's so sweet. He could get hurt by the army rather the natives."

"Hurt by his own army?"

"He doesn't stand up for himself. And that lot can be harsh. I s'pose I shouldn't blame them, I'd be harsh too if I had to kill people in battle. But I worry they will pick on him, push him 'round to try and get him to fight, and he won't."

"Ah, I see," Aziraphale said, rolling his tongue in his mouth as he thought it over. "Well, I can assure you one thing. The natives are not unnecessarily cruel. They do fight, but only when they need to. You couldn't expect anything less, dear."

She nodded, biting her lip. "No, you're correct. I'd defend my country against invaders as well."

"But they won't torture. Your brother will be quite alright, I'm sure of it."

After a minute of silence she looked up again at Aziraphale, "Thank you, Jason. Strangely enough, that makes me feel better. Knowing it wouldn't be torture."

"No, it wouldn't be."

"I really should be going, my daughter will be expecting me."

"Right, of course. Blessings on you, my dear." And though he'd already said the blessing, he felt compelled to say it again. To strengthen it for this poor soul. "Blessings on you forever."

Aziraphale helped her out of her seat. Just then, for an imperceivable second, Aziraphale thought he saw a golden shine cross her eyes. He didn't think much of it, figured it was the miracle. He'd never seen that happen, but he wasn't often looking in their eyes.

She took his hand, kissed the back of it, and thanked him again before walking out. Aziraphale smiled contentedly, though he felt a pull in his heart he hadn't felt before. Urging him to follow her, but he figured it was some sort of indigestion.

Crowley was sprawled on a bench not far from the restaurant, glancing up at a night time sky he couldn't see. He wanted to see it, but he gave up on that dream 2,000 years ago. The Fall took many things, and his eyesight was one of them. He could still see in general, he knew what people's faces looked like and where he was going. But specifics were lost on him, and the night looked like eternal darkness rather than the sparkling stars and planets he'd been told about.

"I helped create some of those," he mumbled to himself.

Then he closed his eyes, needing to not look at what he couldn't see. It still hurt, as though the wound wasn't thousands of years old. But it never properly healed in the first place.

He felt a weight against his foot and heard a thud within a matter of seconds, and he blinked in surprise. At his feet, a young woman was crumpled to the ground. His foot was sticking out in the pathway. Whoops.

He thought about rising to help her, then thought better of it. Beelzebub didn't need another reason to hate him. So he sat still and watched the woman get onto her hands and knees, glaring at him.

"Not going to help are you?"

"No, I think I'm keen to just watch," Crowley responded. She rolled her eyes, getting onto her feet and dusting off her toga. He examined her quickly, not knowing what to make of her. Then, she said something entirely unexpected.

"Keep your foot out of the way, asshole."

It wasn't a particularly inspired remark, nothing witty or threatening. But it was the fact that a random woman said that to him, a demon, without prompting. And with that remark, she walked away.

"Damnation on you eternally," Crowley murmured, waving his hand in a flourish towards the woman. He doesn't know why he said it, he's never really said it like that before and he certainly didn't why he even added the 'eternally' bit. But whatever the reason, he said it.

Though he knew she was too far away to hear him, she turned and looked back. And found a brief moment, maybe it was the trick of the light, he saw a golden shine pass over her eyes. She smirked shyly, then turned and walked away. And with each step, Crowley felt his heart pulse in a way he hadn't felt before.

1377—————

There was complete silence in the cathedral as a young boy, only aged 10 and dressed in trousers, walked through the crowd towards the priest. They seemed to hold their breaths as he lay on the floor before God, surrendering himself to Her mercy. Aziraphale watched the coronation. He had mixed feelings about the child, Richard. He wasn't a particular fan of the whole 'king' concept, but he thought the honoring to God bit was a nice touch. He wore simple enough clothes to note stand out, yet nice to enough to be recognized as a noble. His layers were in varying degrees of beige as he hid in the very middle of the crowd.

After the 10 minutes on the floor, Richard rose and made his way to the priest where he was being dressed in oil.

"Bit like a salad, eh?" A sultry, baritone voice said from beside Aziraphale, making him shudder. When he looked, it was Crowley. Dressed in similarly simple noble clothes, of course in tones of black and red, he watched the young king as different body parts were coated in oil for different purposes.

"Crowley? How did you get in here? It's a church?" Aziraphale said in a hushed whisper, earning glares from the people beside him. "Sorry Lord Wellington."

"Churches are built by humans."

"And what does that have to do with anything? You're still a demon in a place of worship for God," he said the word 'demon' especially softly for fear someone would turn in a panic at the word 'demon' being said in a cathedral.

"Yeah but it wasn't made by God. It was made for Her, by humans. Totally human structure."

"It is not."

Crowley shrugged his shoulders, "you got a better reason I can come and go in these?"

Aziraphale pursed his lips, "I suppose not."

A loud smack echoed through the church and Crowley frowned, "you made me miss the slap, Angel."

"That is your concern?"

Crowley shook his head in frustration, "He's a bloody king now, last time he coulda gotten hit and it's by a priest. S'course I wanted to see it."

"He's a child."

"Not anymore. He's got too much to think about now to be a child."

"No," Aziraphale wondered. "I suppose he's not longer a child at all. You know, dearest, you really do have the grandest thoughts when you think about it."

"Shut up," Crowley replied, his cheeks turning rosy at the compliment.

Within seconds of him saying it, the priest placed the crown on top of boy's head and declared loudly, "Long Live King Richard II!"

The crowd burst into applause as the young king was carried through the cathedral. They whooped and hollered, crying "all hail" and "god save the king" as he passed them by. The boy looked cheerful, pink cheeks and bright curls waving underneath a crown that looked awful heavy for a boy his age. But no, Aziraphale thought, perhaps this was the end of his childhood after all.

"Are you attending the feast afterwards? I hear they will serve beef, and I haven't have beef in decades!"

"Ahh, well I don't know, Angel."

Aziraphale smiled, leaning in as though he was sharing a conspiratorial secret, "I hear there are miraculously two spots for a Lord Fell and Mr Fell, if you are so inclined."

Crowley's eyebrows shot up, eyes hidden beneath his favorite pair of sunglasses, "oh you devil!"

Aziraphale's smile dropped, "don't you say that."

There was a pause as Aziraphale processed the hurtful words, and Crowley processed that he actually cared to make it right to him. Then all at once, they both started speaking on the issue, words overlapping in a frightful mess.

Crowley sighed, "Right I'm sorry -"

"- that really hurts -"

"- I know, I know -"

"- I mean, I am most certainly not fallen -"

"-we had this conversation in 1066 -"

" - I did not appreciate that."

" -I know, Angel. I'm sorry."

After that final note, Aziraphale nodded. "Alright, well. Thank you."

They started to walk together towards the banquet hall not far from there, waiting to indulge in fine wines and beef. There was a large parade towards it, all the nobles and even those fortunate peasants engaged in laughing and singing. Jesters performed stupid dances in their funny hats, knights marched in perfect unison, and songs came pouring from every lute and voice in the area. It was a perfect celebration of a new king, all on their way to fall victim to gluttony, drunkenness, lust, greed and infinitely more temptations.

All things that should fill Crowley's heart with a miserable sort of glee. And yet... he felt off. Crowley couldn't explain the feeling in his chest, almost like a nagging telling him things weren't right. But all this temptation, he thought. This ought to be perfect! But it wasn't, and he had a feeling before he even glanced at his Angel that it was because of him.

Sure enough, he was right. Though Aziraphale hadn't said anything, being kind enough to accept Crowley's words at face value and dropping it, but Crowley knew him well enough to know something was wrong. He hadn't made it up to him.

"Angel, a word -" Crowley said, grabbing Aziraphale's elbow and leading him away from the crowd. As he did so, he missed the way Aziraphale's mouth dropped open, blue eyes fixated on the contact. They'd rarely touched before.

"Yes, Crowley?" Aziraphale asked politely but his tone was full of too much passive aggression to really be polite. He stood stock still, arms poised in front of him and looked expectedly at Crowley.

"I- I, I need to..." Satan this was hard. The words felt like glue in Crowley's mouth but he did his best to force them out. "I need to, to s'make it up to you."

"Pardon?"

Oh damn Aziraphale, making Crowley actually communicate. "What I said, I was wrong. You were right. It wasn't right of me and I need to make it because my apology isn't enough."

"I never said that."

"Ah, yeah, you never said it. But you's do this thing with your face when you's upset. And my words aren't getting there. Just tell me what I can do to make it up to you."

They waited a moment, staring at one another. Suddenly, a large crash came from parade and the two looked over in surprise. The musicians were playing a long, one very eager man slamming the cymbals that caused such a loud sound. Behind them another jester bobbled along a delicate little dance, flourishing his arms on either side before turning and doing a bow.

Crowley saw Aziraphale's eyebrows raise, the corner of his cute little mouth twitch up and a finger pointed towards the little dance. He ran to stop it, saying, "no, no, no, I'm not doing that."

"Come now-"

"A dance? You want an 'I was wrong, You were right dance'? You can't be serious, Angel."

"I am serious, you wily serpent. Now do the little dance or I'll never forgive you," Aziraphale said in mock frustration, puffing out his chest.

Crowley saw before him a choice, between what his lot were bound to and Aziraphale. And without a second thought, he chose Aziraphale. He would choose Aziraphale every time, he just didn't know it yet. And so, despite all the humiliation he knew this would cause him if the bosses down under ever found out, Crowley did the little dance.

Aziraphale watched, eyebrows raised in shock. He hadn't thought Crowley would do it. Certainly not for him. But as Crowley bowed, enunciating his t's with a flourish, he couldn't help but smile.

"Very nice."

"Are we good, now?"

Aziraphale beamed, "quite right, dearest. We are quite right."

Crowley let out a breath, adjusting his glasses as though they would hide that dance from history's books. "Well then, let's get a move on."

The pair followed the parade into the banquet hall, and continued with the affair. Aziraphale literally wiggled in his seat when the food was placed before him, so excited he couldn't sit still. Crowley drank the wine, actually quite good for English wine.

Then the dancing started. King Richard - now Richard II - climbed on top of the table and proclaimed everyone to dance. And so, the nobles in their fancy gowns, drunk and laughing to no end, jumped from their seats to join in the dance. Aziraphale sat still for a moment, not knowing what he should do. Angels don't dance, not really. But this Angel longed to dance.

Crowley saw the way his fingers tapped along the table to the beat. He groaned, getting up from his seat.

"S'alright Angel, up up."

"Pardon -"

"You heard what I said. Come on Angel, let's dance."

Aziraphale giggled and got up, following Crowley into the chaos of swirling dresses and flirtatious looks between anyone and everyone. Almost immediately they were separated, swung by different partners.

Crowley danced with an older woman who squeezed his buttocks when she thought he wasn't looking. He wasn't fond of dancing, not the way Aziraphale was, but he enjoyed the freedom of it all. There were no rules, not really. Yes some people liked the structured ones where you pose and turn on every 3rd beat or what not. But in dancing there was an air of just living - being truly alive. That's what it was all about, it's all anyone yearned to feel.

In the next turn to switch partners, time seemed to slow for Crowley. He saw her, flitting between the people to slide her arm into Crowley's and continue the dance. She was pretty in an unconventional way. A way society might not call beautiful, but made Crowley stop and stare. He was pulled towards her, as though he couldn't control it. She was the center of his focus and he wanted nothing more than to meet her. Then, she turned that pretty gaze on him. Her lips quirked into a smile, hands warm and soft as they held his tightly. Her skin was flushed from the dance, and her dress swung around her in bright, dashing colors. The last dance had ended and all the people were gasping for air yet still ready to dive into the next.

"Hello," she said softly, though somehow he heard her voice over the crowd.

"Hello," Crowley answered back, not sure what to do. He'd never been in this position before.

"A dance?" She asked, taking a deep bow before holding her hand out. Palm up. She wore one, golden signet ring.

"I'd love to," Crowley answered honestly, taking her hand and pulling her into him.

She giggled happily, throwing an arm around his neck as he led the pair towards the center of the dance floor. He started to laugh along with her. Their dancing wasn't particularly good, both of them knew that, but they were having fun. She would twirl away only to twirl back into him awkwardly, laughing so hard she snorted which only caused a barking laughter from Crowley. They continued forward, holding each other close until the final pull drew them chest to chest. She was shorter than he, and she glanced up through dark lashes.

"Hi," she murmured, her breath hitting Crowley's face. She smelled of wine and temptation. He looked into her eyes and there it was - that one moment in history he thought was a fluke.

It had been 1,432 years, not like he was counting, but he didn't forget the way the golden band seemed to fleet over her eyes back in 55BC. And now, he saw that same golden shine slide over the same pair of eyes. It was just a second and yet it made Crowley's mouth drop. She saw it too, but for different reasons. He watched as she looked at his lips, he could tell what she was thinking.

She went to lean in, breasts pressed against his chest and breath hot, but was ripped away by the next dance. She giggled wildly as she was pulled into a circle, but found herself glancing over her shoulder to stare at the handsome stranger she almost kissed.

As Crowley stood in the middle of the floor, mystified, Aziraphale went over to his table to get a drink. All this dancing was positively amazing, but it certainly drained one of their energy.

As he brought the cup to his lips, a body crashed into his, sending the crimson liquid all over his clothes.

"Oh, bugger," he said, setting the cup down to assess the damage.

"I am so sorry, sir!" A girl said, breathless as she ran over. "That was entirely my fault. Please, let me help you clean it. I'm sure there's a tub not far."

Aziraphale smiled politely and went to decline the kind offer, but when he looked into her eyes he found himself agreeing to go with her. She lit up with excitement, grabbing his hand and pulling him away. There was something about her, something he couldn't explain. But he was in awe of her movements and eager to learn more about her.

She turned into an empty hall near a bathroom. She had him wait here while she collected a basin of water and grease.

"I can't promise it will fully work," she said as she set it down, "but I'll do my best. I really am so sorry, sir. I would have never ruined your clothes intentionally."

"It's quite alright. They weren't my favorite anyway," he said as he removed the outer layer. His multiple layers undergarments were fine, and could suffer slight staining. It was the outer garment that changed the most.

She shook her head as she dunked it in the basin, "you can't mean that, sir."

"I find that I quite do," he said, watching her with a quite awe.

"What's your name, sir? I feel I've seen you before," she said, suddenly watching him with the same astute attention. She kept narrowing her eyes as though she'd remember.

Maybe it was the stain, the wine, the party, the demon nearby, or maybe it was just this woman that did it to him but without realizing, he answered honestly, "Aziraphale."

Her eyes lit up, "like the Angel?"

"Precisely, my dear."

"That's a beautiful name. Aziraphale, Aziraphale... can you believe it?" She mumbled the last bit to herself, rubbing liberal amounts of grease into the fabric.

"Do you have a connection to the name? Or the Angel, perhaps?" Aziraphale asked curiously, wanting to hear more about her.

"I do, strangely enough. It's a silly connection..." she said, absentmindedly turning the signet ring over and over on her hand.

"I rather find that when it comes to angels and demons, nothing is silly." Aziraphale chose to neglect some of the more strange decisions the staff had made.

"I, well, oh goodness it sounds all made up. Well, I was in the shops the other day. My friend makes jewelry and he's very good. I came by and he said a man dropped off this gold signet ring with the name Aziraphale burned into it. Said he didn't know what to do with it, not many people knows the Angel, and he gave it to me." She took the ring off her finger, staring at it with an admiration before holding it out to him. "It's your name. You should have it."

"Oh I couldn't possibly take from you, dear."

She shook her head, "no it's not taking. It's a gift. It's fate, that I should have a ring for an Aziraphale just before meeting one of my very own."

"Oh dear, I couldn't -"

She interrupted him by pressing a soft kiss to the ring, taking his hand and sliding it onto his pinky finger. When she looked up, still holding his hand, Aziraphale's jaw dropped. That golden shine. Where had he seen that before? It was brief, flashing over a pair of kind eyes, but it was there all the same.

"Please accept this, Aziraphale."

"I - I will. Thank you, my dear."

Neither Crowley nor Aziraphale saw her after that night. They didn't know her name, her status, or even really remember her outfit. If Cinderella was around, she would have been the prime candidate for it. Neither told each other about their experience with a strange woman until 150 years later as they talked about Henry VIII's decision to have Anne Boleyn beheaded. Nasty business that was.

1601—————

"He's really quite good," Aziraphale said, watching fondly as the actor of Hamlet lamented about life and death. It really was moving the way he toyed between truly living a life, or if death was not truly what life was about.

Aziraphale found himself doing that 'excited sigh' that Crowley described. He found it an odd way of saying his behaviors, but Crowley insisted that when Aziraphale was excited it wasn't a 'satisfied sigh' but an 'excited sigh.' To be fair, he'd said this after 2 whole bottles of wine and a shot of pure vodka, so Aziraphale couldn't grant its true authenticity. A drunk demon would truly say anything just to illicit a reaction.

The speech made him wonder what it was like to be a human, with no certainty about what happens with their souls. They don't have a guarantee about life, or death, and yet are expected to do as they are told with no questions. Crowley knew what it was like to ask questions, and it lead to scars even Aziraphale didn't know about.

"Ngk, s'pose so." Crowley grumbled, watching as the man stamped his foot on the stage. "Bit dramatic, no?"

"It'd a tragedy!" Aziraphale countered, furrowing his brows in surprise.

"Eh, I still prefer the funny ones."

Aziraphale shook his head, turning to watch the man on the stage. A flash of purple fabric caught his eye, and his gaze traveled to see a young woman peaking out from behind the railing. She was trying to stay hidden, but Aziraphale could see that she just couldn't resist the temptation to watch the rehearsal. Her eyes were bright and wide, soaking in the sight. Her clothes were dirty and well worn, a few sizes too big and the hem covered in a layer of mud. But despite it all, she looked entirely unique.

She was pretty, and Aziraphale didn't often feel as though many humans were pretty. He appreciated the art of humanity, and believed each human was their own work of art. But he didn't feel a pull to any of them, but her... she had an attraction to her. He could see her lean too far over the edge, as though the stage were dragging her in. It wasn't just a love and an admiration, it was an addiction. Aziraphale could see what was going to happen moments before it did, but it was too late. The girl tumbled over the edge and fell onto the floor of the Globe, catching the attention of everybody in the rehearsal space.

Her cheeks immediately blotted pink, covering her face in a rosy hue as the stage manager came to her with a snarl, "oi, who're you?"

"I-I-"

"You's not supposed to be 'ere," he said, grabbing her roughly by the arm and dragging her to her feet. She stumbled along as he pulled her to the entrance. "Out with you."

"Mary? Whatcha doin here?" Crowley called out, sauntering over to the man and the girl. The man stopped, looking at Crowley with a skeptical gaze. The girl's eyes widened, bright and eager, as she realized what Crowley was doing and she nodded vigorously.

"Yes, sir, I came to fetch you! Mistress Paulson requested you." She said quickly, trying to stand on her own despite the stage manager's tight grasp.

The man cocked an eyebrow, "oh yeah? You know's him?"

"Know me? Know me?" Crowley sauntered over with a cackle, "me's and Mary goes way back."

She nodded, ripping her arm from the man's grasp then standing politely. "Oh yes, Mr..."

"Oh don't bother with all the Mr Crowley Miss whatever business, just call me Anthony like any other bloke."

"Anthony has helped my sister much. He's an excellent doctor," she said, standing firm. Aziraphale watched her in awe, he was impressed. She picked up that Crowley was saving her quickly, easing into the lie with an expert comfort. She seemed familiar, as though they'd met her before. And most importantly, she was intelligent.

"Doctor? You didn't mention that about your friend," the man said to Aziraphale, his enunciation so poor he practically spat the words at Aziraphale's feet.

Aziraphale flashed a charming smile, "I hadn't realized that those particular skills would, uh, come up in a theatre of this, err,... caliber."

"I haven't the pleasure of meeting you, sir." The girl piped up, her smile was warm and gentle. But he could see in her eyes a tension, wanting to convince this man to not throw her out or worse - press charges. "My's names Mary Edwins. Friend of Mr Crowley."

Mary Edwins, clearly a fake name. Just basic enough to be believable, but enough slight hesitation that Aziraphale knew she was lying. She gave a little curtesy, spreading the oversized purple skirt over the floor. It really was too large, but she still looked charming. Aziraphale felt as though he'd seen that curtesy before. There it was, fast you could have blamed the lighting, Aziraphale knew better. There that same golden shine came over her eyes, if just for a moment. His mouth fell open in a little 'o,' unable to speak for a while 10 seconds before stuttering out, "oh, h-hello Miss Edwins, I'm Mr Fell."

The stage manager thought on it for a moment, before deciding that he wasn't paid enough to care. It was hours away from opening night, after all, and the little boy playing Ophelia needed alterations in his costume.

"Alright then," he said, walking back towards the director, a Mr William Shakespeare.

The girl was still a few feet away as Crowley walked dramatically back towards Aziraphale. The Angel tried to ignore it. He hadn't mentioned that part of it with Crowley, and he didn't know how to continue. Crowley mistook Aziraphale's expression as one of angelic smugness and rose a finger, "shut it, Angel."

"That was a good thing you did," he said with a little smile. He pushed it to the back of his mind, something to worry about when it was late and the city was asleep.

"Twasn't good, no. I was, real, I - I - I was bad. I let a criminal get away."

Aziraphale patted Crowley's shoulder, "no, dearest. You let a woman enjoy her passion. Look at her, you've saved her."

The pair glanced over at her as she tried, and failed, to subtly watch the actors get ready for their next scene. Her hand was on her heart, as though if she didn't put it there her heart would pop right out.

"Ehhh, that's not saving. Not really."

"Oh, it's not? Then what would you say is a human's purpose?" Aziraphale asked with a soft voice.

"I thought that's your job, Angel. Praising God and what not."

Aziraphale pursed his lips, looking away from Crowley. "You know as well as I that love of God is not all humans were made for. I am of the firm opinion they are here for their passions. They survive by it. They might be able to live with food and water alone, but no soul could truly exist without their drive. And this woman, her passion is theatre."

"Rather blasphemous words from an Angel."

"Rather kind actions from a demon."

Aziraphale smiled, looking towards the stage. Crowley tried to hide the blush on his ears and cheeks. It was always his ears that turned bright red from, from, well he didn't quite know from what. But he felt the heat and looked away. He looked at the girl, who perked your once she realized he saw her. She went over shyly.

Despite her apprehension, she raised her voice enough to say, "thank you for your help, Mr Crowley and Mr Fell."

"Mmm," was Crowley reply, gazing around the globe with a distinguished air about him. As if he was the most important person in the room. He tried to ignore her presence. She had a pull to her and he couldn't explain it, didn't want to address it. He already had the issue of a certain Angel who wouldn't leave his mind.

"Who are we to stop the love of the arts?" Aziraphale said, rather eccentrically. "Though you could have waited a few hours to see the whole show."

"I can't afford it," she said quietly, staring at her feet. Aziraphale noted her sweet little boots, their pointed ends digging into the dirt out of anxiety. "My mistress only gave me the morning. I need to be back in an hour."

Crowley and Aziraphale shot a glance with one another, not quite knowing how to respond. They stood in silence, the girl's eyes wide as she drank in Ophelia's mad lullabies.

"What's your name?"

"Mary Edwins."

Crowley smiled, "nice try, love. Your real name."

She cocked an eyebrow, glancing up at first at Crowley, then at Aziraphale, before looking back at her reflection in his sunglasses. "Why do you want to know?"

"We did help you, dear. We'd just love to know you, but if you cannot tell us, we won't rush you."

"Are you two a couple?" She asked quickly, pointing at the two and waving her hands in some strange, gesture of coupling. Her choice of question was so drastic, they didn't bother to notice the intentional diversion in topics.

Aziraphale looked up, mouth dropping in a little 'o' and he looked at Crowley. Crowley lifted a brow. Aziraphale answered, "We've known each other for a long time."

"That doesn't answer my question, Mr Fell."

"Aren't you a sly one, Miss Edwins." Crowley sneered, his top lip recoiling.

She just smiled, shrugging her shoulders with a little giggle. "Suppose so, Mr Crowley."

The golden shine. Crowley sucked in a harsh breath as she turned to look back at the stage. He could practically hear all his thoughts as they raced through his head, and he was unable to settle on just one. Those eyes. He hadn't seen them in years and yet this was the third woman who just happened to flirt with him, and had a gold shine go across her eyes. He reckoned she didn't know it happened, she probably didn't know what those little eyes could do to an immortal creature. Crowley swallowed, praying she never had to.

Then, the show continued and 'Mary's' eyes seemed transfixed. Aziraphale loved the theatre, Crowley enjoyed it, but 'Mary' adored it.

Crowley watched her eagerly, partly out of curiosity and partly because he liked feeling her passion in his soul as though it was her own. He found himself attracted to it, a drag of one's purpose. The passion filled her up, and she seemed to want to lean into it. She gasped as Hamlet killed his mother, she listened with eager ears as he instructed the actors on how they were to act, she cried as it seemed that everyone fell to the floor in a miserable death. Then, it was over. Actors stumbled to their feet, laughing as though they weren't stabbed with poisoned rapiers. The story was over, but 'Mary' seemed to be in a daze. Crowley watched with shrewd, yet eager eyes as she came out of it.

Then she straightened her back, smiling tightly to both of them. "Mr Fell, Mr Crowley, thank you for letting me stay. It has been such a gift. I'm afraid I must go."

"Let us escort you home," Aziraphale said, without realizing what he was offering.

She blinked wide eyes, "there's no need, sir. It's two blocks away."

Crowley lifted his chin, "love, we'd like to see you off safe."

"If you insist. Though I must tell you it's entirely through the city. Eyes will be on you at all times," she said it as a threat, a reminder to not do anything unsavory. Crowley almost frowned at that little bit of false hope. If they actually had bad intentions, a crowd wouldn't stop anything. She wasn't truly safe. But both Crowley and Aziraphale nodded, as though they truly headed her warning.

"Was that your first Shakespeare production?" Aziraphale asked, making polite conversation as he walked on one side of her, Crowley on the other.

"Oh, no. I do my best to attend all of them. I tend to prefer the funny ones, but the crowds can be a bit much for me."

"Eh? What'd you mean by that?" Crowley asked.

She blushed, "I don't like when crowds get very loud. They tend to jeer and toss things at the actors. It doesn't feel safe for anyone. I do enjoy his dramas though."

They walked in companionable silence for a moment before she asked the next question, "what do you two do? If I may, you're dressed rather odd."

"Odd?" Crowley asked with a frown, gazing down at his outfit. He was quite proud of this outfit. The ruff was amazing, really helped one feel confident.

'Mary' giggled. "I don't dislike your outfits, you just don't see these colors often."

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a glance, shifting in their outfits. Perhaps they do cling to their colors a bit much. But Aziraphale never felt it was a problem, he was proud of his wardrobe.

"I make my own clothes," Aziraphale said with a smile.

'Mary' lightened up, her eyes taking on a bright, sparkling quality before she actually smiled, a little tell that Aziraphale noticed. He'd seen that before, but couldn't place it. "That is quite wonderful, Mr Fell. I'd love to make my own, however I mostly sew for my mistress."

"You make her clothes?"

"Oh no, I tend to mend them."

The conversation lulled again, and Crowley bit his lip as he thought before asking the question that has been on his tongue since the play ended, "why do you love theatre so much?"

Her chest flared, her eyes wide and sparkling, and she could barely contain the words before they poured from her in excited spurts, "what's not to love? It's stories about being human wrapped up in fancy costumes and dramatic voices. It's full of stories that seem so outrageous yet we still find our way to connect. Isn't it just fascinating that you could watch a show about a man, driven mad by jealousy caused by a deceiving friend, murdering his wife and leave full of emotions? You'd think you'd be mad at the murderer, condemning him for killing his love. And yet, there's more to it than that. You can't quite hate Othello, but you can't love him either. It's so hard to explain what it is to be human, there's no word or sentence to explain it. It can be so isolating. But these stories can give us insight. I, sorry, I'm rambling," she said, taking a wistful sigh.

"Stories can be found anywhere, dear. Books, especially," Aziraphale noted. He enjoyed hearing her speak with such fire. In the back of his mind, he felt as though he could recall someone else talking about their love of stories, but he couldn't place it.

She nodded, smiling. "Yes, of course. And I adore books too. It's just... theatre is such a temporary art. Those moments on stage, or watching, could never be recreated, it could never be exactly as it was. And that's what made it so beautifully tragic. You are stuck with a slightly different story each night, with different takeaways."

"What a beautiful takeaway," Aziraphale said, watching her with a slight sort of awe.

She blushed, "I'm hardly unique in that way."

"Ngk," Crowley mumbled in disagreement, though he didn't actually say a word. Yet, she seemed to still understand what he was trying to say and blushed all the same.

As they walked, Crowley took off his sunglasses for a moment to wipe his eyes. He seemed to forget that his were unusual, yellow and with a snake like slit as a pupil.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

"M'yeah," Crowley answered, opening his eyes to look at her. After the initial realization he was seeing her without glasses, thus revealing the snake like eyes, he went to shove the sunglasses back on. But she wasn't looking unkindly at him.

Instead, she smiled widely, "they're beautiful."

"Wot?" He said in shock.

"Your eyes are beautiful, Mr Crowley." Then, as Crowley sputtered in surprise, she stopped in front of an expensive flat. "This is me mistress's. Thank you, Mr Crowley and Mr Fell."

She looked both of them in the eyes as she said their names, and with equal kindness and appreciation. Then, she turned away and scampered around towards the servants entrance. Aziraphale waited until she was inside to blow out a breath.

"She was something," Crowley said.

"Yes, she was."

"I- angel, I could be wrong on this but didn't she feel-"

"Familiar?" Aziraphale finished for Crowley, looking down the alley as though she would magically reappear.

"Yes! It's so bloody weird," Crowley said, rubbing his hand along his jaw.

"Yes, weird," Aziraphale said, enunciating weird in an odd way that made Crowley furrow his brows. The two beings tried to shrug off this encounter, heading their separate ways for the time being.

1865—————

Aziraphale stared at Crowley as though he'd never seen him before, utterly gobsmacked. "I will not provide you that, that thing! It's suicide."

"Aw not for that Angel," Crowley groaned, waving his hand nonchalantly as though he hadn't asked for the one thing that would completely kill him. "Just for, err you know, protection."

"You are a demon, Crowley. The world would need protection from you."

Crowley tried to not let that sting. He'd never said as much to Aziraphale, but these last 200 years have really brought some perspective over what it is to be a demon. He found a weird sense of discomfort over the word demon. As though he were entirely bad because of what he was, and not what he does. But he'd never say it, or tell Aziraphale he accidentally rhymed.

"It's not like that, I just want to secure myself. That's all."

Aziraphale pursed his lips and looked away, not bearing the thought that his closest acquaintance would dare to think of something like that. It was simply not going to happen, Aziraphale refused to let that happen. Crowley was going to live forever, with Aziraphale, and he was going to do so happily. He'd never tell Crowley, of course, but Aziraphale didn't know if he could manage eternity without him.

"Oi! That can't have that!" Crowley said quickly, throwing himself off the bench and facing towards a woman standing by the river.

She turned to look at the, in her view, random man dressed in mourning garb barreling towards her and shouting in a thick accent. She clutched the loaf of bread close to her chest, eyeing him warily as he continued rambling.

"Bread's not good for 'em, it can - can - can cause diseases," he said once he got close to her.

She sucked in a breath. He was taller than he'd looked from afar, and she found herself staring at him. He was also quite handsome, with tanned skin and shocking bright red hair, curled away from his face. She noticed a pair of odd looking spectacles hiding his eyes, and a tattoo peaking out beneath his sideburns.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," she said breathlessly. She felt kind of stupid now, holding a loaf of bread as he stared at her with a passion for the ducks. A man dressed in all beige apparel came by quickly, standing by the other man's side. He looked kind, with bright blue eyes and plush pink lips she didn't even realize she'd taken note of.

"I'm terribly sorry for my friend's outburst," Aziraphale said to the woman, still looking shellshocked. "Though I'm afraid he is right, bread is not the best for them."

She looked down and stared at it. "Right, well I apologize. I hadn't been doing it long, if it's of any comfort."

Crowley grumbled but didn't say anything else, eyeing her with skepticism. After a pause where the three stood in silence, the woman tore the loaf into three sections. She then offered up a piece to each of the men, "better we eat it than them?"

Crowley and Aziraphale exchanged a glance, they hadn't expected this. Maybe it was the mood of St James's Park or the pull of this young girl, but they reached out to accept their proffered piece.

Just then a golden shine passed over her eyes. Both men's jaws dropped as they'd never shared of this particular detail of their stories, and had never experienced it together. And, for the first time, she seemed conscious of it too.

A hand went up to her cheeks just below her eyes, which had grown wide in surprise. "What was that?"

"Pardon?" Aziraphale asked in that slightly tense voice he had when he was covering up for something.

"The, my, my eyes. I was looking and then it went all - gold like."

"Oh I don't know about that," Aziraphale said.

She shook her head vehemently, pointing at the both of them. "Yours did too, and yours!"

"You saw our eyes shine gold?" Crowley asked shyly.

"Y-yes. I saw through your spectacles. The whole eye, it went gold -"

"It must have been a trick of the light, dearest. Eyes don't 'go gold.'"

She shook her head again, "no. I know what I saw. I, I think I'd better go. Thank you for the, the, the ducks."

"Wait-" "Don't go-" Aziraphale and Crowley started at the same time, but she'd already lifted her skirts so she could walk away as quickly as possible.

"She saw it this time," Crowley said, mouth open in surprise.

"This time? This time? You've had a girls eyes shine gold before?" Aziraphale asked, trying to ignore the way his heart ramped up at the news. Crowley felt it too, it wasn't all him.

"And by the sound of it, you have too."

"Yes, I have. But only thrice before, 55BC, 13-"

"-77 and 1601."

Aziraphale's blue eyes widened and he stared at Crowley in shock, "I- I, how did you know?"

"Same for me, Angel. Same for me."

"So she's connected then, to the both of us." Aziraphale said slowly, trying to work it all out in his head. Crowley nodded, pursing his lips and making a 'tsk' noise under his breath.

"She's looked different each time. I don't think she's an Angel or a demon," Crowley said, ripping off a small piece of the bread she gave him and tossing it into the water. No, it wasn't good for them but who cares at this point. They were eternally connected to something.

"No, I think you're quite right. She's something else entirely. I'll have to do some research, I'll let you know if I have anything of note."

Crowley swallows, "same 'ere."

"Okay. Well then, good afternoon to you," Aziraphale tipped his hat and wandered off back to his book shop, his head completely filled with ideas of shapeshifters and witches, all sorts of creatures.

Current Day—————

Crowley parked the Bentley outside Aziraphale's shop, the wheel a slight tap before getting out. It was cold today, and he saw dozens of people shuffling into Nina's shop for some warmth. He himself was freezing but he knew even slightly suggesting to Aziraphale would earn him some pampering, blanket tucked in, hot chocolate, and near undivided angelic attention. Normally he didn't like asking for it, but it's been a weird few years with the Armageddon't, and he could use some pampering.

He felt a pang in his chest, a strange sort of pull he didn't know what to do with. What did humans do when their hearts hurt? Then it struck him - he wasn't human. Why would his heart be hurting?

"Oi, you doing okay?" A voice said from the pavement outside Aziraphale's shop. Crowley looked up, surprised to see Nina with a bag full of ingredients.

"What're you doing out

She held up the bag with a raised brow, as though he was stupid to just suggest it, "you're alright then?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. But you haven't got other staff and the place's full."

"Oh, yeah, forgot you didn't know about that." Nina said dryly. "I hired a new barista. Name's Y/N. New to town."

There it was, that pull dragging him towards her shop. He couldn't explain, tried to rack his brain as to what would want him in there. He glanced back through the windows, trying to see if anything was amiss.

Each instance with her seemed to last for a second, barely enough to know if it was the truth or a trick of the light. But Crowley had lived long enough on enough stupid planets to know that when he saw something that wasn't typically there, it wasn't a figment of his imagination. He swallowed, trying to betray anything to Nina.

"Right. Well then, better get back to it," he said, moving past her shoving his way into Aziraphale's bookshop.

"Oh Crowley, wonderful you're here-"

"Yes, yes, I'm wonderful, you're wonderful, the world's bloody wonderful. Angel, do you remember in 1865 when we saw her in St James's Park?"

There wasn't a need to clarify who the 'her' was. Aziraphale straightened, removing his spectacles from his nose. "Yes, I do."

"And you remember when you said you'd research it and report back, but never did?"

"Yes, I do. Crowley-"

"I need that research now, Angel." Crowley said quickly, not letting Aziraphale ask more pointless questions.

"Nothing came of it, dear, that's why I'd never told you. We would have sensed if she was a witch, angel, demon, or anything other supernatural. We have those senses."

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"Crowley, what happened? What did you see?"

"She's here."

Aziraphale's eyebrows shot up and he placed a surprise hand on his chest, not quite knowing what to do with that information. "Here?!"

"In London. In the coffee shop, in Nina's coffee shop. I - I saw her. There was a golden thread between us. I know it's her, Angel. She looks different but she has every time. It's her."

"You saw a golden thread?"

"Yes."

Aziraphale put his spectacles back on, heading for one of his bookshelves towards the back of the shop, "are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes, Angel, I'm bloody positive."

"A Golden thread has never shown up before. The previous times were all the, err, the eyes. This means something." Aziraphale said, gathering the dusty book from his shelf and depositing it on his desk with a thud. "In Greek mythology the golden thread was your life line. Your life thread so to speak. Fate, destiny, the whole nine yards."

"Yes, Angel, but the Greeks were wrong and that's how we exist so what does it mean for us?" Crowley grabbed a chair and fell into it, placing a frustrated hand on his temple.

Aziraphale thumbed through pages until he found what he was looking for. He read the words, but it only helped to scrunch his brow. "This doesn't make any sense. The threads only have two colors, two avenues."

"What do the threads mean, Angel?" His tone pained in frustration. This girl was scaring him, and he couldn't explain why. As far as he knew she presented no threat to him. And yet all the same, he feared her. He wasn't a fan of the unknown. Everything had been so planned out for so long, even though he didn't like the idea of the world ending it was a plan nonetheless.

"It says here that white thread is for eternal blessings. Saints and what not. Black thread for eternal damnation. But it only exists on a human while they are alive."

"Wot? I don't see black threads on people, d'you see white threads?"

Aziraphale adjusted his spectacles, "it says here they only appear if an Angel, or in your case, dearest, a demon, specifically bless them. Or, err, curse them."

"Still, you'd think 6,000 years and I woulda seen something."

Aziraphale nodded in agreement, "I've not seen any either."

"Wait, how'd you know about all this then?" Crowley waved a hand vaguely in between Aziraphale and the book.

Aziraphale looked confused for a moment, "all this? Oh, ah, you mean how I've come to know about the threads? Well it is to my understanding that this was brought up by Michael -"

"Head honcho Michael?" Crowley asked.

"Yes, though I wouldn't use such human terms myself. Michael had thought it up around 100BC. Thought it would be a fun way of identifying humans. But the upstairs didn't fancy the idea, She dispelled it not too long after."

"Hmm... never woulda pictured that out of Michael."

"Well, they say you never really know someone." Aziraphale replied, looking back over the pages as Crowley began to ramble.

"Always thought that applied to killers. No one ever says that 'bout the good deeds, they only say it after you've hurt someone. If someone's killed a kid, everyone's all up in arms like 'you never really knew 'em.' But if someone's a paramedic no one's like 'you never really know-'"

Aziraphale felt his jaw drop open as the words at the bottom of the page finally clicked. Part of the reason Michael's plan never worked, at least according to Gabriel, was that the wording was too specific. "No one uses 'eternally' in their everyday vocabulary," he had argued. Back then Aziraphale had quite agreed with Gabriel, but everyone agreed with Gabriel if it meant shutting Michael up. But he remembered a time not long before the thread idea was vanished when he had used the word 'eternally' in conversation. He reread to be sure, then piped up over Crowley's random complaining, "C-Crowley... do you remember what you said to her in 55BC?"

Crowley's face scrunched as he tried to think all the way back. "I, uh, tripped her. On accident, then she called me an asshole and I-I damned her for eternity I think."

"Oh dear."

"What does this 'oh dear' me? Angel?" When Aziraphale didn't say anything Crowley got up, stalking over to him quickly. "What did you see?"

"I blessed her for eternity."

"So? What's that mean?"

"I-I think, and I could be very very wrong, however I think that means we've, err, we've trapped her soul in an endless strain between Heaven and Hell."

"No, no, no, no," Crowley started to say, unconsciously pacing as he tried to unravel it all in his head. "That doesn't make any sense. Her thread is gold, white and black don't make gold. It makes grey, she should be grey!"

"I think the color of her thread is far from our biggest issue, Crowley."

"So, so what? She's trapped to us?"

Aziraphale ran a hand down his face, trying to process. "I- she might be."

"But her body's changed each time. It's not the same woman."

"Ah, but her eyes. They've stayed the same. You know as well as I do they're the same."

Crowley stopped, knowing he didn't have grounds to argue. Aziraphale was right, after all. Then he groaned, rubbing his eyes. "Fucking hell-"

"Language," Aziraphale said with pursed lips.

"Wot? For the fucking or the hell part?" Crowley snapped, then upon seeing Aziraphale's dropped expression he immediately retracted. "I'm sorry. That was rude. You're not getting the stupid dance though. Angel, she's not immortal. Her soul is. She must just keep being, being reborn. But the soul from 55BC is still the same."

"That would make sense," Aziraphale said. "They do say the eyes are the window into the soul. Perhaps that explains why they remain while the rest of her can change."

"Yeah, yeah. It makes sense, don't it?"

"So we've accidentally trapped a human soul to Earth to live and die for eternity?"

"Yeah, yeah," Crowley sniffed. "Think we did, Angel."

There was a quiet pause as the two reflected on what they just realized. They, unwittingly, had created an immortal creature. She doesn't even know she's immortal, and by the past experience it sounds as if her mind is wiped with each death. But her soul lives on.

"Fuck," Aziraphale said quietly.

Crowley looked up sharply, "wot'd you say?"

"I said fuck." He repeated, with more confidence this time around.

On any normal circumstance, Crowley would laugh and cherish the moment he saw Aziraphale curse - and with fuck of all of them - but he couldn't help but think Aziraphale was right. Fuck, indeed.

"What do we do?" Crowley asked.

"We have to tell her."

"We do? Why's that? What d'ya think we're gonna say? Hi random stranger I'm a demon he's an Angel and your soul is stuck, here have a cuppa."

"Well that would be straightforward -"

"Sarcasm, Angel. You've been here for thousands of years and you still don't process sarcasm."

Aziraphale stood up and went over to Crowley, touching his shoulders so he'd look up to him. "I understand that this is difficult. This is, it's entirely unprecedented territory. But she deserves the truth." He leaned in, his voice but a whisper. "It does help that we both feel a pull to her. Once we see her, it hurts to no interact. Perhaps we can find a way to end this, to help her."

Crowley swallowed, looking away from Aziraphale's bright blue eyes. He smelled of vanilla and old books, a scent Crowley would bottle up and spray all over his stupid, cold flat if he could. Maybe this girl could help, maybe she was good. But they first needed to meet her.

"Alright. Fine. Let's go, now," Crowley said, sliding his sunglasses back on. Aziraphale nodded and retrieved his coat.

The pair walked out of the bookshop, locking up, and swiftly walked cross the street. They hesitated outside the door, neither knowing what to do. A flash of a blue apron in the window caught their attention, and then a golden thread, shining in the light, emerged and wrapped round the owners waist.

"You seeing that, Angel?"

"Y-yes, I am. It's not faded."

It didn't. It sparkled and swayed in the air, moving with the owners body as she walked around in the shop.

"On three," Aziraphale said. Crowley grumbled in agreement. "One, two ... three."

They opened the doors and were almost immediately greeted by a sweet smile and kind eyes. The same eyes they'd seen for hundreds of years. She smiled, tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear.

"Hi guys, welcome in! Feel free to take a seat wherever you like, I'll be with you in a moment."

"O-okay," Aziraphale said, his voice wispy in the confusion and whirlwind that was her. But she was entirely unaware, blissfully living in her own world that she didn't know was about to be ruined.

They sat in a far corner, away from any windows. Crowley sprawled in the seat, looking anywhere but at Aziraphale. Aziraphale sat stiff as a bored, left leg bouncing so furiously the table itself started to shake.

"Right, what can I get you lads?" She seemed to appear out of nowhere, shining golden thread wrapped round her sweet waist right where the apron was tied.

Aziraphale spoke first, not looking her in the eye but instead staring out the window. An uncharacteristically rude action on his part. "Oh, um, just a latte please. With 3 shots of vanilla."

"Ooo, yum. And for you, the one with the glasses?" She asked, her voice light.

Crowley thought for a moment. Better bite the bullet, eh? He turned, took his sunglasses off, and looked her in the eyes. "Espresso, darling."

Her eyes had a golden flash and she seemed to jump, her pad falling to the table in her shock. She looked between Aziraphale and Crowley with wide eyes, hands going to her stomach as she took deep breaths. "Aziraphale. Your name is Aziraphale," she said to him. Eyes wide. She turned to the demon. "You're Crowley."

"Yes, dear, we are."

"Why do I know that?" Her voice was shaky and yet she stayed, not angry or scared that she knew unknowable information.

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a glance. Crowley sighed, flicking his hand. Time around them stopped. Customers held their mugs up in the air, Nina mid pouring a cup, and a man getting ready to ask for the most ridiculous drink he could think of. All were trapped in this moment except for her, Aziraphale and Crowley.

She jumped, looking around with wide eyes, "h-how'd you do that? Why did you do that?"

"Please, take a seat dear," Aziraphale said, snapping as a plush chair appeared behind her. She tripped into it, her body language stuff and frightened.

"This is all feeling like a very strange dream, and I don't like it," she said, taking deep breaths to try and clear her mind. "Did you just stop time and if so, how the hell did you? And you just miraculously created a chair? And why do I know who the hell you are?"

"Dearest, it's not a dream, I'm afraid. You have met us before. You've met us multiple times before," Aziraphale took a breath. "I-I'm afraid we have some complicated news."

"Tell me who the hell you are!" She was getting scared, her heart fighting against her rib cage. She wanted to get up, she wanted to run away, put her hands over her ears and scream 'la la la' over and over until they left her alone. But she didn't. It wasn't a physical thing, even though these familiar strangers had put her in a terrifying position she knew they'd let her go. It was her soul that kept her trapped. "Who are you? I need to know. Who are you really?"

Aziraphale placed a warm hand on her own. His was large, soft and yet strong. She liked the feeling of his hands as he held one of hers, looking into her eyes. "My name is Aziraphale. I am an Angel of God. I was the Guardian of the East Gate at the Garden of Eden, but now I am on Earth. I perform miracles and I run a bookshop, with my dearest friend."

His eyes glanced over to the other man. He was handsome, tanned skin with fiery red hair slicked up and back over his head. Aziraphale might have called him a friend, but she wasn't stupid enough to believe that. It was more than that, maybe they didn't know it but she definitely did.

Another hand grasped hers, this one lean and long. He grasped her hand with a soft intensity she didn't know possible. "My name's Crowley. I'm a demon, you'd know me cause I was a, uh, let's call me a reptile."

She blinked rapidly, "you were the snake that tempted Eve?"

"Wow, she's a quick one," Crowley smiled widely.

"Wasn't he cursed to only use his belly?"

Crowley rolled his eyes, "it's complicated."

"You, both, are not human. You're an Angel and you're a demon. So Christianity is right."

"Yes, love. But God is actually a She, that bit got muddled," Aziraphale smiled. "Are you feeling better?"

"That doesn't explain, why- why do I know you? I recognize both of you, but I don't know why. Then you made that comment about having met me multiple times, for years, what does that mean?" She was getting a little riled but she tried to stay calm. This wasn't going to make any more sense by screaming at a literal demon. And Angel, but the demon was more infuriating at the moment. He stared at her with a mix of awe and shock, and she didn't want to think about any of it.

Aziraphale sighed, "before the current era, you know Roman times and what not, the Archangel Michael played with the idea of threads. It was similar in concept to the Greek idea of fate -"

"You happened to be alive when this was a thing. It means when a demon curses you and says the word 'eternally' a black thread'll appear to let everyone know you're damned forever. White thread with angels."

"I'm damned forever? Wait, you said Roman times - I was alive during the ancient roman era?"

"Well, darling, he blessed you and I cursed you at the same day. Meaning your soul is trapped with both Heaven and Hell," Crowley said softly. "We think your soul has been reincarnated since about 55BC. And it's because of us. This Golden shit you see is our connection."

"But white and black make grey?"

Crowley clapped and said "aha! She gets it!"

"Crowley," Aziraphale said, though his eyes were light with amusement. "We can't explain the color of the thread. But we believe it means you're connected to us. Both of us, we get this pull to you when you're around. As though we have to see you."

There was a moment of silence as they let her collect her thoughts. Unconsciously, she'd curled up into a ball on the comfy chair Aziraphale had miracled. She thought and thought, rolling over the idea that she's trapped here on earth. An accidental immortal being tied to these two.

She glanced at Aziraphale. She knew him, she has known him. She bit her lip, wishing to understand everything as it was.

"M-May I?" She asked, tentatively lifting a hand near his face. She needed to touch him, to feel him, to try and remember.

The Angel nodded. He was soft, his hair light and white, in short curls on top of his head. She liked the curls, they looked rather fetching on him. Her fingertips brushed lightly down his face, feeling his kind face. She liked his lips, they were pink and couldn't fight a smile. Then she glanced down and saw his hand in his lap. Running an hand down his shoulder to his hand, she lifted it and eyed the golden ring.

"Aziraphale..." she murmured. It all started to fall into place. The dancing, the food, the wine. He'd looked so out of place in pale clothing, so obviously finer than anyone else's. He'd tried to blend in with an outdated style, to balance the richness, but she could spot him through the crowd with ease. His cheeks had gotten pink, and he'd gone for a drink. She hadn't meant to spill on him, she just wanted a chat. "I gave you this ring. You didn't want it at first, but I gave it to you. It says Aziraphale on it."

He took a shaky breath, his eyes becoming glassy with tears. His lips trembled as he said, "you did."

Aziraphale slid the ring off his finger, turning it so she could see the inside. There enough his name was scrawled in haphazard writing. It had faded from the years, some of the details lost to time. But she remembered this ring when it was new. When William had gotten it in his shop and didn't know what to make of it. And she'd taken it, knew it would be special.

She pressed a soft kiss to the ring, then slid it back on Aziraphale's finger. She looked him in the eyes as she kissed the back of his hand, "I remember you."

The tears had actually fallen now, hitting his cheeks softly. He didn't try to hide it, and she wouldn't want him to. Perhaps it was this whole eternal blessing thing, but she was drawn to him.

Then she turned to the demon. Crowley. He sat high and mighty in his chair, looking away as though he were intruding on Aziraphale's private moment. He was handsome in a different way than Aziraphale. Where Aziraphale was soft and strong, Crowley was sharp and sweet. She smiled when she looked at him, knowing he was sweet without saying it.

She went to him to, lifting her hand then asking softly, "may I touch you?"

He swallowed, and nodded. She first touched his hair, it was softer then it looked. Her fingertips brushed it so it feel on his forehead, liking the contrast of his skin against the red. Then she traced along his tattoo, the way his cheekbone felt under her touch.

With gentle hands, she cupped his cheeks and turned his face so he had to look her in the eyes. She smiled. "I'd wondered if they were still yellow."

He closed his eyes, cringing. He'd always hated his eyes. "Sorry they're-"

"Beautiful." He opened his eyes quickly. "I remember your eyes. They've been in my dreams and I never knew why. The man with the yellow snake eyes. They are so, so beautiful. Like a sunflower."

"You're comparing s'demon eyes to a sunflower?"

She smiled and nodded, "you have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen."

Crowley sucked in a breath, closing his eyes. It as though the attention itself would make him implode.

"Keep them closed," she said. Then he felt a pair of soft lips kiss one eyelid, then the other. "Absolutely beautiful. Don't you think so, Aziraphale?"

Crowley was shocked to hear Aziraphale agree. "I adore your eyes, dear. They've been my favorite for a long time."

The three didn't know what to do with themselves, time frozen around them. But however strange the situation, she wasn’t afraid. Not anymore. She wanted to get to know this Angel and demon, understand their pasts and more about their connection.

“Thank you, my dear, for your patience,” Aziraphale said kindly.

“I suppose I should be thanking you, you’ve waited hundreds of years.” She said with a dry laugh that made Crowley smile.

There weren’t any words that seemed to describe the moment the three of them shared, in a moment frozen in time knowing they had all the time in the world. But for now it was enough, and that was all it needed to be.

#good omens #good omens season 2 #fluff #soulmate au #good omens fanfiction #good omens x reader #kind of on accident #didn’t think I cared about it until now and I still don’t but I’m proud of this fic #god it’s long please read #historical shit #Aziraphale x Crowley x reader #Aziraphale x Crowley #12k words #my sanity is gone #don’t even care that much about a reader insert with them but I’m here #so enjoy

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