#this is just the typical “oh a man and a woman interacted so they must kiss��� shit

[stiffyck]

I should be allowed to get a "skip pointless and stupidly forced romance" button in everything I watch ever

[heartyluv]

💋⌖༺����🍷𓆪༻

Rating: Explicit - !!Minors DO NOT Interact!!

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 2,839

Summary: Sylus hates being away from his wife, always has.

Reader/Husband!Sylus w/ Breeding Kink

You're so close and you can't wait to be where you belong. It's always hard to leave your husband and your home behind for any reason, but you haven't seen your best friend in so long that the trip to see her was needed. After two weeks in your hometown, you were now in the car Sylus sent for you, getting closer to being in his arms again.

Your phone rings in your purse and you fish inside the bag to answer it. The photo of Luke and Kieran posing with the peace sign is the first thing you see, making you smile.

You press the phone to your ear after accepting the call. "Hey, guys. Everything okay?"

"No, everything is not," Kieran mumbles. "This is the longest two weeks I've ever experienced. Boss Man has been so moody."

"Please tell us you're almost here," Luke says plainly.

"You're not used to Sylus' moods by now?" you joke.

"Of course we are. But we will never get used to how flip-floppy he can be about you. It's gross, yet oddly adorable... Please don't tell him I said that," Kieran pleads.

"What's he doing?" you ask curiously.

"That's the thing. He's doing nothing," Luke answers.

"Since you've been gone, he's been to himself. I know what you're thinking. 'Isn't that typical of the Boss?' Well yes, you are 100% correct. At least typical behavior with us. Boss cannot be without you for more than a second if he can help it. Anyways," Kieran sighs. "He hasn't made a sarcastic comment, joke, or insult during your entire absence. He's been the most... "regular" since you told him you were coming home today and even more so to see you're two minutes away," Kieran adds.

"How do you—?"

"Oh, you must know that he has a tracker on you."

Of course Sylus tracks you. It's not necessarily surprising, just newfound information.

"Tell him I'm—"

"Open the door, open the door! She's here!" Kieran screeches.

Your phone beeps, indicating the call has been disconnected. Yours and Sylus' home come into view, and you feel so giddy inside. The driver rounds the small bend of the driveway, putting the car in park, and steps out of the vehicle to help with your bags. Before you can even get your fingers to the handle, your door opens.

You turn your head to the right to see you husband, the smallest but ever so meaningful smile on his face. He for sure used his Evol to get here as quick as he did because he was not present when the car pulled up. His hand is out, reaching for you. You slide yours into his and he's pulling you as politely as he can muster to bring you closer to him.

He's in his long sleeve brown top that you bought him a few months ago and his tailored black slacks, making him represent the perfect combination of comfy and classy like he always does.

He doesn't say a word, not at first. Immediately when he has you close enough, his hand cups the side of your head and he dips his to kiss your lips. The kiss is hungry and desperate. He doesn't give a damn who's around and who's watching him suck your tongue into his mouth.

This is his house, his choice, and most of all, his fucking woman.

He growls and you feel the rumble in his chest vibrate against your own with how pressed together you are.

"Sylus—" You try and speak, but he's engulfing your mouth with even more vigor as if your voice has only spurred him on more.

He realizes he needs to let you breathe, knows that he's likely making your whole body flush with embarrassment, but he can't seem to care. It's only when you bite down on his lip a little too hard, forcing him to pull back, does he finally look into your eyes.

You can barely breathe and just like he thought, your cheeks are tinged red and you're breathing deeply. You lick your lips, your smile uncontainable when his piercing red eyes bore into your large ones.

"My apologies, kitten," he finally speaks. "Can you blame your husband for being so eager?" His thumb trails your lips, mixing his saliva and yours.

"I missed you too, handsome," you respond once your breath finally stabilizes. The driver announces that he'll be on his way, and you close your eyes as if it'll make you disappear, hoping that he didn't pay attention to the way Sylus kissed you.

Who are you kidding? Even if the poor old man didn't look, he definitely heard it and is most definitely judging a little bit.

Sylus makes the hesitant decision to separate from you for a moment to tip the driver before he departs. He thanks the both of you, tipping his hat, and you two watch the red headlights depart away from your home after he got inside the car.

Sylus gets close to you again, seemingly ready to take you right here on the driveway pavement, but Luke and Keiran come running out the house, exclaiming with happiness that you're back.

"Thank god you're here. Please, fix him," Kieran exclaims.

Sylus sighs, shaking his head at his—what he deems—ridiculous behavior, but if you were in their shoes, you're sure you would've been feeling the same way.

"Bring her bags inside. Take a car and one of my cards for the next few days. Don't come back until I instruct you to," Sylus commands and all of you damn near snap your necks to look at him.

The twins chuckle, nudging at each other before throwing your husband a loud "yes sir". They both make quick moves to grab your things and Sylus holds your hand as he guides you into your shared lavish home. Kieran is the first back out the door after showing Sylus what card he took, and Luke shuts the door behind himself after following his brother's lead.

"Why are they leaving?" you ask, but you know the answer. How could you not?

Sylus tilts his head in amusement, licking his lips. "Are you hungry?"

"Not particularly..." you breathe.

"Hm," he hums. The radiant glow of the descending sun is the only light you have to see his face, to see the mischief he has written all over it. "But I am, sweetie. A treat such as yourself could satiate a hungry man like me."

He kisses you again, barely giving you the chance to respond. He's quick to kiss your jaw, then your neck. His tongue traces your skin, holding you up so that you don't crumble before him.

"Do you know how insane I've been without you?" He bites the section where your neck and shoulder meet. "The way I ached for you..." He inhales your scent deeply. "It must be what Ares felt when he was separated from Aphrodite."

Your body shudders. He chuckles smugly at that. "Tell your husband how much you missed him, kitten."

Your hand snakes up to trail into his white-gray hair. He sucks on the places he knows makes your panties flood, decorating your neck with love bites. "I missed you so much," you tell him truthfully through your lust. "Thought about you every day..."

"You did, did you?" he teases, peeling your cardigan down your shoulders. "I don't know, I'm not convinced. Perhaps actions truly do speak louder than words. Shall we put it to the test?"

As if you weigh nothing, he picks you up and your legs instinctively wrap around his waist. You've seen this man lift couches over his shoulder as if he was moving a single bag of groceries. It's insane— and it makes you want to let him do every filthy thing possible to you.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Sylus brought the both of you to the upstairs bathroom and you stand behind him like a lost puppy as he cuts the water on, steam pooling out of the grand shower. He removes his clothes first and you watch as every single article of clothing is thrown to the side. You can't help but to stare at his cock, hard and standing tall.

He then approaches you, gently peeling off your own clothing. After you're naked before him, he takes you inside to stand beneath the pouring stream of water. "Tell me about your trip."

Behind you, you hear movements as your voice shakily attempts to tell him what you and your friend did while you were away. He hums every so often in response, to let you know that he really is listening. Then his large hands come into view in front of you. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, not sure of what he's getting ready to do. Your words are cut off when his hands grab handfuls of your breasts, making you arch your back, and your ass press against his aching cock.

He groans as the soap begins to lather, as he runs his hands all over you. Your soaped breasts are his erotic sight. His wedding ring trails over your nipple as he massages you, causing you to call out his name.

"Don't stop, kitten," he whispers lowly. "Keep going."

"Sylus, please..." you beg. You know exactly what you want from him, but to put it into words feels impossible.

"Please, what? Speak to me. Tell me what you want." He licks your ear.

"Please... I need you."

He tsks, bringing his head down to kiss your shoulder. "I'm a man who requires details before I act. Tell me more."

"I need you to fuck me... I need you inside of me," you beg sheepishly.

"My good girl," he praises. "But what about me? You left your poor husband all alone. What about what I need?"

"What do you need? I'll do anything.."

"Anything?" he chuckles and you feel him smirk against your neck.

He grabs your wrists, pinning them behind you with his Evol. You're thrown off and the whole shower is long forgotten when mixes of black and red energy constrict your wrists. He kneels in front of you, taking your foot and bracing it on the shower bench.

"Then feed your husband, sweetie." His mouth attacks your hot cunt, your soft curls tickling his nose as he ravages you. His tongue is skilled and determined as he drinks your juices like a man on the verge of dehydration. You shake and writhe, struggling to stand upright. But Sylus has you, he'll never let you fall.

His hands grab at your ass, pulling you closer as he sucks your throbbing clit into his mouth.

"Baby... I can't, holy fuck.." you pant, moaning and whining. Your sounds echo off the tile walls and with no one here, you have zero hesitancy to be loud.

"You can," he encourages through heavy breaths. "You said you'd do anything. So, be good for me and let me taste my sweet wife's cum."

His words are filthy and so fulfilling. You want to touch him, want to press him deeper, but your bound hands prevent you like a punishment. Your orgasm approaches and he can feel you constrict around his tongue, making his efforts double.

You can't even warn him that you're about to come because it hits you before you're even ready. Your thighs shake, your body nearly doubles over, and your pussy sings for him as he swallows all of you down. He kisses your weeping cunt as you start to come down then you jolt when he licks at your sensitive clit one last time.

"Please, Sylus baby. I want to touch you. I need to feel you.." You look down at him and he kisses your thighs, then your stomach, all the way up to your wet breasts.

"Maybe you have a gift, my sweet." He licks his lips, biting them as if he'd needs another fix of the ambrosia between your legs. "Your actions and your words could move mountains."

He kisses you and your hands are still bound. You taste your heady scent on his tongue, but you're so frustrated that it nearly brings you to tears. He senses this, knows this, and the relief that washes over you as your hands are released is inexplicable. You immediately grab at his neck, then his hair. You just want to be close to him.

He lifts you up, pressing your back against the cool tile wall, but your body is so hot that the pinch of cold fades immediately. "Put me in, kitten," he looks into your eyes. "Bring me home."

You nod feverishly, looking down between the two of you. His cock is leaking. If you don't get him inside you now, you're convinced you will actually cry.

You wrap your hand around his thick length, feeling the veins that will be inside you in milliseconds. He helps you, jutting his hips forward and the tip of him opens you up like a flower. You gasp, biting your lip as he gets deeper, as you and him become one.

He starts to rock his hips and his pace is excruciatingly slow. "I want to put my baby inside you," he admits as his hips start to increase in speed, giving you what you need. The declaration makes you clench around him.

"Does my wife like that?" he presses his forehead to yours. "My baby in your stomach, my ring on your finger, my money in your pockets. Everything I am, everything I own, it belongs to you, doesn't it?"

Your emotions are at an all time high. "Yes... I want it. I want to have your baby, Sylus..." You can barely speak right.

"You'd do me the honor, wouldn't you? You'd let me fill you with my cum until it's leaking out of you, then you'd let me fuck it back into all over again until it takes."

His tip kisses your cervix ever so lightly as he slams into you with purpose. The sound of skin slapping together is orgasm inducing and your flesh ripples deliciously in his hands. He uses his Evol for a moment to keep you up and still as one of his hands comes to your stomach, pressing down. "You can feel me, hm? Feel how well we fit? We know how perfect we are together. Let's find out how even better we are when we mix."

You need it. You want it. You crave it. You need to have the family you and him have always talked about. And you need his cum so desperately that you'd get on your knees and beg. But you don't need to beg. Not when he's more than willing to give.

His hands come back to you and his thrusts become stronger, more ruthless, and your body welcomes every brutal motion. "Hold it," he demands as he feels you tighten uncontrollably. And you do. You hold it like your life depends on it.

He caresses your flushed cheek. "My sweet kitten. You listen so well for me, don't you?" You nod quickly, unable to speak to the man who's taking your breath away.

"Listen well for me one more time." His cock pulses and each vein massages the inside of you. "Come for me again. Reward your husband."

You don't need to be asked again as you scream for him, your body relieved to let out what it could no longer hold. Sylus knows how much you need him, need contact, so he brings you close and you grab at him while he groans in your ear, his own release painting your walls and filling you up. You're astounded that he's not falling to the floor because if it were you depending on your legs right now, you'd be a melted mess as much as you are in his arms.

You feel how his cum warms you. With bated breath, you tilt back your head to see your husband not as collected as you initially believed. He's just as much of a mess as you are. His cheeks and ear tips are red and his hard chest is rising and falling in quick succession. Even now, he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. He brings you both to the bench, sitting on it with him still nestled deeply inside of you.

The water has been running the whole time, likely cold but you and him couldn't care less. You rest your head on his shoulder.

"Staying together like this could increases our chances of pregnancy, no?" he whispers before kissing your head.

You chuckle. "I hope so."

“I really did miss you,” he mumbles into your hair. “Deeply.”

It's quiet for a moment. "I did, too.” You kiss his chest. “And I meant it, Sylus. I really do want that, want this. To start a family with you."

"I meant it too, my love. Every last word."

"Yeah?"

"Of course." He cups your face to bring your pretty eyes to him. "And I don't plan on stopping until it happens."

It already made sense why he had the twins leave, but now? It definitely makes sense. You would not know rest these next few days and you couldn't think of a better way to be welcomed home.

[codeword-art]

I adore Han's character for so many reasons it's hard to articulate it. I was annoyed by Hans in KCD at first, just as much as anyone would be. He seemed like a bully, some rich snobbish dick who existed to just be the villain in Henry's story.

Except he isn't that at all.

Hans challenges Henry to an archery competition and sword fight. If Henry wins either, or both, Han's doesn't react at all like a typical bully or self-centered character. He didn't demand a rematch, try to fight Henry, or accuse him of cheating, and he doesn't even degrade Henry further out of embarrassment. Han's just goes "Damn, I must be having an off day." That is shockingly humble for someone that came at Henry so strongly before.

Our interactions with Hans from then on, and into KCD2, continue to show that Hans is a surprisingly calm, kind, and thoughtful man. He's chill as hell for a nobleman. He takes the death of his people hard. Not even forgetting about them much further into KCD2, when it'd be alright to never mention it again at that point. He even feels sorry for the people in some unknown burnt village that he has no ties too. Just the thought of that destruction and death hurts his heart.

He changes his language towards Henry's dog when he realizes how much Mutt means to Henry and even promises to help Henry look for mutt in the second game (even if that didn't pan out). He is relatively cordial with people if he has a good relationship with them and becomes shy and nervous with older and more powerful company.

He's even a romantic. Hans seems like a lecher, going from woman to woman, flirting with ladies of all classes as long as their appealing to him, but deep down he craves passion and romance like in the fairytale stories. We can see this in his romance arch with Herny, and even in KCD when he's deep in thought about going to Trosky and he tells Henry he's never had a true love before.

His actions betray his words as well. Hans will call Henry a peasant, blacksmith boy, and so on. He pulls rank on Henry often, but then he turns around and will look past anything and everything Henry does.

Oh, you stole my keys from me? That's hilarious, keep them.

You want to sleep in my bed? Go ahead I don't care.

You messed up my chance with Karolina? Whatever, she probably sucked anyway. Here, take this love poem I wrote.

You didn't win the tournament in my name like I asked? Well, that's okay, you tried your best!

There is no reason for Hans to be treating Henry with such good faith, or as equals. Hans doesn't care though. He likes Henry, a lot. The man imprinted on Henry like a duckling, and he's a ride or die for that dirty goofy blacksmith's boy.

Hans isn't perfect either. He's insecure, jealous, sometimes a coward, is a bit socially inept, and quick to pull rank when he feels attacked. Which are all side effects of his environment and the way he was raised by Hanush, who also exhibits similar personality traits. He's a bit spoiled yes, but he also likes to spoil others. He gifts Henry little things all the time, and it's clear gift giving is a love language of his. Like a little magpie, he finds all the shiny baubles and shares them with his favorite person in the whole wide world.

Hans parades around like an arrogant selfish nobleman, but deep down he's a young, fun loving, kind, and passionate man. I could write about him for ages.

[weirdworldofwinnie]

Bend To My Will

The Wizard x gender neutral reader (NSFW 18+ only oneshot)

Summary: Being the personal assistant to The Wizard of Oz isn't so bad, at least until you get in trouble... And even then, it comes with an unexpected perk.

Warnings: unprotected anal sex, age gap (older man/younger reader with height difference), power imbalance dynamic (unprofessional boss/employee), slight degradation, humiliation

Word Count: ~3,430

A/N: Because I can't get enough of Jeff Goldblum's Wizard, here's another shameless smut fic (you can read my other fic here, it's not related to this one and is fem!reader). I tried to make the reader here as gender neutral as possible and there's no use of Y/N in dialogue. This one also takes place before the main climatic events of part one of the movie and obviously is not entirely accurate to canon.

"Hey, is there a letter from Shiz in there somewhere?"

"Yes, sir, there is." You hurry up to the Wizard with this week's bundle of post, just delivered to the palace via flying monkey.

Sometimes a mechanical balloon he invented himself is used along with a monkey for delivery, and mail comes weekly, both in and out. It's the fastest method and his untidy loopy scrawl regularly trades with others' contrasting elegant scripts. Today one such letter is indeed from Madame Morrible, the headmistress of Crage Hall at Shiz University in Gillikin Country, complete with a large, stamped wax seal bearing the school's emblem. You can't help but notice he is always eager to receive her correspondence and then later he's often disappointed as if she never told him what he wanted to hear. If you didn't know any better, you'd presume he fancies the older woman. From your limited observed interactions, you're not sure if it's a reciprocated feeling. Her typical look is a glacial gaze and aloof presence, and often seems impatient with him, like he gets under her skin, but sometimes she merits him a seemingly true smile and he acts all giddy. It doesn't take much to please him.

"Did you make sure my last letter got out? I haven't heard back," the Wizard asks idly, distracting you from private speculation. He's seated down in his rich crimson tall-backed chair and hurriedly splitting open the ivory envelope with the sharp blade of a letter opener. He never opens his mail in front you or any staff for that matter, so it must be rather urgent. His eyes rake through the written contents hungrily and something sparks in there, as his mustache twitches with a spreading smile.

"Ah. Golly, that's good. Very good indeed," he mutters to himself before tucking the paper back in the envelope and stuffing it deep in the nearest drawer.

"Did you hear what I asked of you?" he asks a bit irritably, shuffling the other less important letters around in front of him into a neat stack and you quickly gather your bearings.

"Oh, yes, um, I..." You trail off embarrassingly, racking your brain for the memory of the last delivery.

It had been the prior Friday and all you remembered was it had been a very long day of errands back and forth around Emerald City (the Wizard never leaves his palace, so everything is brought to him) in addition to daily "housekeeping" duties. You suddenly recall your regrettable encounter with the mail carrier monkey.

"I-I'm afraid not, s-sir," you stammer in ashamed admittance.

"What?! How could you forget!" His voice pitches up two notches in panicked disapproval. It's not like you're known to make mistakes, after all.

"I'm very, terribly sorry your Ozness, it was an absolute mistake, I did pick it up and bring it to the monkey, but he was in a foul mood and we got into a tussle, so then I decided to just take it to the post office instead, but it must've dropped out of my satchel when I ran... The clasp gets loose sometimes and..." You give up explaining, watching his face cloud over in stormy disappointment and it's better to shut up before you're struck with a nasty bolt of verbal lightning.

He sighs heavily and flicks a finger out to play with a spinning model of the solar system, poking and prodding at the little gold planets.

"There's no excuse for this. Let's dearly hope that letter is only lost in a gutter or bin somewhere and not in the hands of enemies. Damn those animals and Animals, the lot aren't to be trusted, I'll have to have Chistery smack that troublemaker around or I'll have a stern word with him myself... And as for you..." He frowns deeply, dangerously, and without further words, you take this as a sign to retreat, backing away to the door with your head hung low. You wonder if your pay will be docked for this. Maybe you should knock off early today and go straight home and count what savings you have to prepare in case he decides to sack you. You'd been so fortunate to get this position after a rigorous interview process (and mostly due to your family's connections to wealthy socialites) and now you've blown it because of a dumb monkey and it's a stupid mistake that - if he's right in the worst assumption - could get people killed. You don't even know what was in the letter, if it was seriously political or not, but judging by his reaction, it wasn't casual correspondence.

"Get over here," the Wizard commands abruptly, loudly rapping the wood top of the grand desk with his knuckles in clear annoyance.

You scuffle closer, afraid of his possible wrath; he could yell at you or even use a type of magic? Dread wells up deep in your bowels and every step closer feels like impending doom.

He's intimidating to be in front of. Much too tall and far stronger than you even for an old man, and for a moment, you see clearly, etched in his features, the inspiration from where the threatening mechanical head display comes from. His long coat has been removed and drapes over the back of the chair, leaving him in his vest and high collared shirt, and you try not to focus like a magpie on all the shiny bits and bobbles and chains attached to the front. He's appropriately stylish yet eccentric and unpredictable enough to throw off an edge.

"Yes, sir?" you croak out as you stare up, now only two feet away. He reaches out and you instinctively flinch, but he means no physical harm.

His fingers surprisingly land tenderly upon your cheek and trace along your jawline, slowly, as if inspecting your bone structure and skin. Frozen in place, you stand numbly before him, staring at the neat trim of his mustache and goatee patch because you can't make contact with those intense brown eyes boring into your face. Your gaze wanders to stick on his lips and for a crazy second, you long to touch them, to feel the perfectly full soft shape. Somehow, he's even more handsome than you'd ever realized before. You catch a whiff of his heady cologne and just that does something to your brain, making you slightly woozy.

"You, uh, understand this 'mistake' is unacceptable, right? That I don't allow slip-ups often especially when it comes to business correspondence?" he asks in a low, nearly guttural voice that makes you quiver in... forbidden feelings.

He doesn't seem quite so cold and frightening up close like this, and you can see in his eyes he isn't a man to cower in fear from. There is some strange vulnerability to him, like you should be the one comforting him, but that doesn't make any sense.

"I understand. Please, I promise I'll be more diligent. Don't blame the monkey too much."

He grunts in approval, dropping his hand from your face and slipping it into the pocket of his patterned green pants. He wavers on his feet slightly, as if in indecision, and you start to open your mouth to speak when - with a single swift motion - he spins you around in a 180 and you fall straight forward onto the desktop. Something scatters and clatters to the ground. A gasp slips from your lips and the air heaves from your lungs as your head spins to reorient to this new position, stomach cringing from the coolness of the hard wood. The Wizard grips your waist hard from behind and you feel his hot breath in your ear as he speaks in a purring warning.

"You're good at pleasing me because your job requires it, right? Well, now here's a chance for me to please both of us. Of course, it's still a punishment for your silly error, so don't be smiling about it. And if you keep up this new habit of ineptness and getting into fights with my nonhuman staff, it is going to be your downfall and you'll find yourself groveling and licking my shoes in desperation to keep on living comfortably, understand?"

You can only barely nod in shocked disbelief, and he pauses for a second, still breathing on your earlobe.

"You like me a lot, don't you?"

"Yes, of course your Ozness. You are very admirable and wonderful."

He clucks his tongue, and a hand playfully smacks your ass. Lightly, but makes you jump, nonetheless.

"No, no, not that trifle crap that everyone says. You want me in the worst way, don't you? You always wonder what's really behind the curtain?"

Your cheeks burn hot as coals in guilt. Yes, you maybe had fostered a teeny tiny crush on him only weeks into the job and still really do actually, but it means nothing, right? He's everything and you're just another meager staff member drawn into his power and charisma, his caring (almost paternal?) presence.

"Well?" He sounds impatient and the increasing hold around your middle demands an answer.

"Y-Yes," you finally admit quietly, feeling as though the Unnamed God might as well strike you down now.

"Right, I thought so. You aren't quite like the other folks around here, I can tell. So, uh... Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

You're speechless as he proceeds to unzip and tug your pants down, and they pool around your ankles, fainting fabric.

"I've had to see you walk around in these tight fucking pants for two years straight and resist the urge to bend you over this very desk... Think my job's easy?"

You let out an embarrassingly strangled sort of noise that makes him chuckle dirtily as he continues undressing you, peeling off your underwear with his expert fingers, slipping it down to your ankles and you gape as your privates are exposed to the air of the room and more importantly to him... Oz the Great and Terrible!

This was completely indecent and unprofessional, and frankly disgustifying of you to allow. What if guards came in for no reason and caught this act? There would certainly be no encore.

As if he reads your mind, the Wizard speaks in assurance.

"Door's locked, darling. Nobody's gonna find us, but you better keep any profane noises down to an acceptable level. Those damn monkeys eavesdrop, I swear, and we don't want your vulgarity rubbing off on them, do we?"

You let an uncontrollable guffawing laugh loose and then a groan as he grabs you tighter, squeezing your bare skin in sure, secure hands. He murmurs into your hair at the crown of your head.

"Shh. Don't get hysterical now. We've barely started anything and already you're crumbling to pieces. You're kind of pathetic, aren't you?"

You nod meekly again because you're in no position to challenge him and let him continue.

He removes his vest and tosses it carelessly on the chair and then rolls up his starched white shirt sleeves to his elbows. You hear him fumbling around in a desk drawer and your face twists in confusion when you hear the popping lid of a bottle.

"This is, uh, just some lubricant to help. I could cure a drought with this stuff," he explains jokingly, and you hiss in discomfort when you feel a very slick gel-like cool substance being slathered on your skin and most intimate parts from behind. You wonder briefly why he keeps that in his desk in the first place. Shouldn't this be taking place in a bedroom, not his office?

When he's applied enough lube, you listen to him unzipping and stripping off his own pants which also fall to the floor, and then you feel a solid stiffness emulating from a particular region as the fabric of his green boxers rubs against your buttocks.

"Now hold still while I free this big puppy," he says, somehow with a straight face you presume by the tone of his voice, and soon enough, there isn't shielding fabric anymore.

You can feel his thick fleshy cock against your ass, already beaded in precum, and starting to push forward. His purring husky voice is in your ear again, echoing around in your very head.

"If you tell a single soul about any of this we're doing, I will fire you and have you exiled to the outermost sandstone desert. Understand, gumdrop?"

You gulp at the threat and raise your brows at the random sweet nickname.

"Yes, sir."

"That's what I expect to hear."

You yelp as he thrusts into your ass, and you scramble to grab the sides of the desk for support.

"Hey, hey, it's alright, no hollering, okay?" His words clumsily mean to comfort, but his body continues, and the motion shakes and rocks the entire desk. All his trinkets and paperweights rattle or roll or fall down to the floor noisily.

Your nerves are set on fire and gradually a wetness leaks from unmentionable areas, both yours and his. The office feels stifling in temperature, but maybe the heat is actually emulating from just you and him, friction banging together. He ruts against your body in an animalistic frenzy that must look not very romantic from the outside, but on the inside, you are feeling a soaring pleasure you didn't think was possible. It's true, then, what they say. The Wizard does please people - just not in a way you ever expected. You always have been one to try to keep your head down, don't draw much attention, just do your job and get through the day, but he makes you feel like you're suddenly on top of the fucking world.

You grunt and moan as he goes harder and faster, pushing in and out of your tight hole, and finally he growls out a very gentlemanly "Oh fuck!" as he spills outside.

You cum just before he does, and the mix of fluids splatter part of his desk and run down the side, just missing a tiny toppled figurine of the Wizard himself by inches. You almost laugh again at the shocking absurdity of this moment. You've seen a side of this man in power that you never thought possible before and now you're not sure if you should be entranced or horrified that he really is just a purely biological man.

The Wizard is panting and clutching you like his life depends on it, and you catch your own breath that has fled to the other side of the room, scaling the walls for escape. When you finally capture it and the air fills your lungs once more, he lets go and steps back. You wretch yourself off the desk, wincing in pain and aching from the intrusion and uncomfortable positioning, but sick pleasure is still throbbing through your veins rushing with pulsing blood.

His desk is, respectfully, an utter fucking mess: immediate papers that have been spared the cum are crumpled or fluttered to the floor. Quills, ink bottles, and accessories are scattered everywhere, and micro inventions will probably need a tune-up.

"Here, clean yourself up." He offers out a clean handkerchief to you for wiping as he does himself with another cloth from a drawer. You try not to stare at his swollen balls and sizable cock deflating from its peak.

"Not bad for the first time, huh? Maybe we'll see what else you can do later."

Your mouth gapes openly and closes like a fish out of water, and then you drop the handkerchief, and he rushes forward as you stumble, off balance. You get your underwear up as he awkwardly tries to put his arms around you, but you hobble away from him in shame, legs like jelly. You bend over to grab hold of the waistband of your pants to hitch them back up too, but you fumble fruitlessly while he quickly gets his boxers up and then puts his own pants back in their proper place at his waist.

"Do you need help with that?" he asks patronizingly, and your face crimsons.

"I can do it," you reply like some determined kindergartener tying their shoes for only the second time.

But you're trembling so much from nerves and the after effect of being bent over the desk and orgasming that you cannot do so very successfully. He sighs dramatically and you hear him cross over to bend down on one knee in front of you, hands snatching the pants and pulling up. He secures them around your waist and then pats the front of your crotch with his large warm hand, which makes you almost topple over. If someone had told you last week you'd be in this position with your boss, the ruler of Oz, you'd laugh in their face.

How did this happen? How did the line of professionalism get so completely blurred and smudged? What made you so lucky? Or unlucky if this went south?

"See, that's not too hard, is it?" He smirks in satisfaction, moving up to smooth down the entirety of your uniform. His hands linger for too long, and you feel on the point of wishing to collapse on the spot and melt through the floor, pretending like none of this ever happened.

"You're speechless. I have that effect, don't I? Everyone says that, but I just don't see it. People expect it but then they don't know how to react when they are. Okay, this might be a bad analogy, but tell me, if you go to a burlesque or, uh, club as they call them here? Well, you expect to see a striptease, right? And by that assumption, one would think they'd be prepared to deal with a lap dance or something, right? They wouldn't not know what to do or feel or..." he rambles on, and you mumble incoherently and step backward, nervously running a hand through your hair. He stops, inhales, and rubs his chin thoughtfully.

"Gosh, you're kinda cute, I never noticed before. You know that don't you?"

You have no answer to give, there are simply no words. The Wizard turns to his desk with a distracted frown before back to you.

"Can't have the maids seeing this mess you made. Guess you're gonna have to clean that up yourself," he says, and you don't mention his desk was pretty darn cluttered to begin with. His whole office is a constant work in progress, a place for all his ideas (and this isn't even his workshop), and the fact that he chose this place to do such an inappropriate act is laughable. Internally you almost want to punch his stupidly dashing, smug entitled face even though he's absolutely right about the maids. But this was all his idea, after all!

"Here, I'll get rags," he offers quickly, perhaps reading your disgruntled expression and he moves to the door, opening and shutting it fast behind him with a click.

You can't look at the indecency of the desk, so you move away to peruse his collections, many books and knickknacks lining the shelves wrapping around the office. There are countless scrolls of schematics and at your feet, wooden crates full of sample bricks for the Yellow Brick Road construction. You start to swipe your fingers across the rough painted surface of them.

"Hey, don't touch any of that now!" his gruff voices barks from behind, startling you.

The Wizard's holding clean rags, and you immediately move to him, taking them and gingerly begin to clean. His fingers ghost over yours as you wipe his desk free of inappropriate fluids, guiding every move and it feels just sensual enough you can barely focus on the task. He wants it spotless, and you spritz the desktop with a bottle of some kind of cleanser, making the space smell like bright citrus. You reorganize the objects and papers back into a fairly organized setup and when you're all done, he takes away the soiled rags to dispose of. You wait patiently until he comes back, and when he does, your heart automatically sputters as he strides back into the office, clapping his hands together briskly.

"Well, back to work, amirite? And this time you'll certainly deliver the new letter I write with no issues? I'd hate to, uh, have to do this again... Right, gumdrop?" he asks with a wink and that devilish generous grin tells you nothing is ever going to be the same again between you two.

You've been changed for good.

[silenttale22]

MUST HAVE BEEN THE WIND/PJM/ - Chapter 6

Summary: Someone once told her she had to learn to live in pieces as there would be nobody to glue them up. But what if a person with similar pieces to her appears? What if by complete coincidence her crying is heard in the middle of the night? What if together they can create a whole new masterpiece? Dancer!Jimin x Student!Reader Genre: Fluff, Angst, Slice of life. hurt/comfort, Soulmate!AU, SchoolAU Warnings: Mentions of blood, assault Jimin's pov, curses Note: Hi! I'm a bit late this time - a damn sickness got me :/ But I'm here, and if you like and enjoy my story lemme know with some interaction!

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 5/CHAPTER 6/CHAPTER 7

The days of Park Jimin felt like they were pulled straight from hell. Those first few days after - what he referred to as the rejection - made it impossible to stay and sit still. He found himself prioritizing tasks that would typically be at the bottom of his list. Just to occupy his thoughts. Therefore, whenever he found a moment of free time at home, he would play loud music and occupy himself with various tasks, such as doing the laundry, wiping away dust from every corner, vacuuming, mopping the floors, and so on. He followed this routine almost every day.

A couple of times the annoying neighbor from the apartment next door banged on his door, threatening to call the police if the man didn't eventually decide to turn down the damn nuisance music, but Jimin knew perfectly well that during the day the forces wouldn't do anything to him. Eventually, in the middle of the night, when, once again with sore legs after returning from training, he tap-tapped a mop against every possible cabinet. 

On this particular day, he had already woken up with a supremely foul mood and cursed sternly under his breath when with each passing hour, he had hoped deeply that things couldn't get any worse. The smallest events quickly changed his mind.

Aside from another sleepless night and an unwillingness to get out of bed through the miserable pain in his back, one by one everything seemed to make him angry. Already getting out of bed, through a still somewhat hazy vision and peering into his phone with a million messages from Hoseok arriving every now and then - Jimin impetuously bumped his forehead against the doorframe. He bounced off it like a ball, for a long moment unable to catch consciousness of what had just happened.

After that? It only got worse, running out of shampoo in the shower, hooking on every possible doorknob, hitting himself on the edge of the coffee table when he tried to walk quickly from the bathroom to the ringing phone in the kitchen, and on the very way out, when he was already dressed, ready to get out from the apartment, he decided that he would take another quick sip of coffee - which spilled on his white T-shirt, and then the boy just cried pitifully, knowing that if he's going to start looking for a new one he would be late for training - something a friend doesn't forgive easily.

So yes, Jimin pretended to get himself together and, with his stained T-shirt, left on a run towards the training room. His bag for training was extremely heavy, almost as much as the damn weights he had thrown on his back extra himself.

The afternoon looked no better than the morning. When he ran into the building after a long marathon and wrestling with the wind, having treated his hair with the worst gusts, he almost killed himself by jumping up the stairs to the first floor. However, continuing to run - without taking the slightest care and missing the sign about the wet floor, his slippery sneakers provided him no small amount of distraction. In the end, he landed on his back with a thud, groaning quietly through the pain spreading up his spine.

"Oh my, are you okay?" a voice came to his ears from a distance, and he picked up his head to see the worried face of the older woman holding the mop in hands.

The boy sat down on the ground, groaning again and grabbing his head and shaking off the momentary shock by the fall, and nodded to the woman that he was okay.

However, he wasn't. Nothing was okay. And every minute of the damn day encouraged Jimin to jump from the nearest window. 

As he achingly entered the training room, his gaze quickly met Hoseok's sharp gaze, causing him to let out a weepy whine and throw his bag on the ground to quickly slip into his proper shoes.

"Amazing coffee adventure?" said his friend sarcastically while looking down at his stained T-shirt, and Jimin only grunted as pulled himself up from the ground to stretch before training.

Movements had long gone out of sync with the layout, and another step, hand, left, one, two, and jump in the middle more than once caused Jimin's butt to land on the floor again. Boy snarled loud, hitting the dance floor furiously. He hated this feeling when anything didn't work out for him. 

But he got up and tried still…

And another bang on the dance floor. Hoseok's tired sigh only made him even more angry. After all, he had tried his hardest and everything was coming out almost right...until he had to jump up with a spectacular spin. Sweat was already dripping down from the boy's forehead, on which, when rubbing his fingers, one could feel a small bump from the morning's rendezvous with the door.

Once again, Jimin got up on his feet and looked in the mirror. Seeing his miserable face, an urge to spit to the side or throw anything at the glass sheet to make it shatter beneath his feet almost as much as he feels inside with himself is rising. But he quickly clenches his jaw, tightening hands into fists for a brief moment. Music again blasts from the speaker, and his body sways slowly in line with the movements, then his right hand extends a bit to the right and an almost mechanical graceful step leads him into more smooth movements. Body roll, down. And then spin, so the boy again fell on the floor. 

“Jimin what the fuck is happening, last time you've been doing it almost perfectly” but boy ignored, rolling his eyes and standing again to repeat, and repeat, and repeat…

His smoothness in steps has always set him above everyone else in the group. Years of working on various techniques have allowed him to master his body movements perfectly, without any mistakes. However, there were also days like these where he found it hard to fight back the tears coming to his eyes with each fall. Because he wanted to be the best, and a mistake condemned him to failure.

"Listen, if we keep this up we'll never get to the together part." Hoseok snapped, lining up for his solo once again, and Jimin sat hard on the floor with his back hard-pressed to the cold mirror now, taking fast gulps of water.

“I know okay, I'll do it” blond boy said, as his friend begin to put arms in the right movements, doing everything smooth and perfectly.

“Yeah, when you rest” dancer stopped in a figure, holding his gaze onto Jimin now instead the reflection of himself 

“I'll do it today” Hoseok rolled his eyes with a groan, standing back straight quickly. Gazing at the blond boy's face, and commenting on it with a loud huff. 

“You know exactly why this is happening, yet you rather be a stubborn bitch. Is this neighbor girl again, or something? You need sleep bro. You're tired and almost invisible” Jimin bites his cheek from inside, wishing to push this new flow of unwanted thoughts

“I'm fine.” quiet mumble is followed with snort from the older guy, as he came closer and sat on the floor, knocking off his sneakers.

“Yeah, as fuck.” he spoke, beginning to picking up his things after changing into his shoes, meeting gaze with Jimin's again

“Where are you going?” Hoseok laughed sarcastically at the blond boy words

“Home, rest. And you should too. We're here 5 hours straight.” Jimin's face grimaced, as he tried to get up from the floor but another sharp pain in his spine pinned him down with a whine

“I'm staying, need to work on this” boy said after a moment, meeting with Hoseok's worried face but he ignored it. He needs to work hard and get some results.

“Jim-” the words were thrown to the wind, as Jimin now let all the things that were about to distract go hang 

“I'm staying”

“As you wish, just don't die in here. See ya” And the blond boy was left alone when the door slammed behind Hoseok. Jimin grabbed his face in his hands feeling the throbbing pain tearing through his skull, he felt like dying.

Nevertheless, he ended up picking himself up off the ground after taking another quick sip of water and facing his reflection in the mirror. His hands almost automatically formed in the right direction as soon as the boy turned up the music that filled his throbbing head. He kept moving his next steps stiffly, completely missing his daily lightness. He felt like dancing today with weights clinging to every possible muscle.

“For fuck sake ” He hissed, massaging aching legs, couldn't really stand up from the ground this time.

This is precisely why boy had to stay a few hours longer in the room to perfectly master the steps for the upcoming festival. And to impress himself in the slightest. In the back of his mind was the thought of a performance that could actually change everything in his future career. At first, he was actually jazzed about the fact that he would be able to take part together with his friend in such a big show. However, the longer he thought about it, the more stress ate him up from the inside, telling him that he wouldn't be able to cope on such a big stage. 

His body slumped painfully to the floor, and a sharp pain spread through every possible muscle. His feet were skinned, almost bleeding in places by the boy's idea of trying moves without shoes hoping for better traction. This unfortunately only brought more pain. His chest was rising fast as he lay flat on the wet floor. An unpleasant odor was getting into his nostrils and all he wanted to do was vomit. 

As he picked himself up to finally head for home, a momentary haze in front of his eyes made him stop and shake off the unwanted gloom. This wasn't the first time they had haunted the boy, but over time they began to appear more and more regularly, often making visibility difficult.

When he left the practice room alone, it was dark outside the windows, and the clock that hung above the reception desk when he handed over the keys to the locker room and hall showed almost the middle of the night. He wasn't sure himself how much time he had actually spent in the room, but the fact that hardly anything had worked out was killing his already miserable mood. 

The woman seated at the desk sent him a weak smile when he placed the key on the counter. And even though he wanted very much to return it, his disappointed expression probably told her everything when she answered only his goodnight without questions. He and Hoseok were both lucky that the place where they practiced was round-the-clock, although it was usually him who, even in the middle of a sleepless night, could come to drift off with the music.

He took step after step, smugly looking down at his sneakers, which were wet from the puddles he had accidentally fallen into while continuing his bad streak. He tightly squeezed the strap of his large bag with one hand, while the other was tucked deep in his pocket. The wind swayed his body every now and then when his tired body could no longer manage to keep a straight path. All he wanted was to be in a comfortable bed already, so that his muscles and his head, at least for a while, could rest.

 “Yah! Loser!” loud yell, and Jimin's eyes shoot wide. Busan was a peaceful city, nothing bad happened here usually. So he kept his pace, not looking behind. But it wasn't for long.

A strong tug dragged him backward, and the bag fell weightlessly from his shoulder. Moments later, he was lying on the cold concrete next to his bag, not knowing exactly what was happening. Blind punches were sent to his body and face. Jimin tried to push his attackers away as hard as he could, but his exhaustion took its toll until he finally gave up as they pulled him into a dark alley.

"Fucking faggot,  looking for trouble in here? Wanted someone to hump you here, huh?" a spit landed on Jimin's face, but he couldn't move. Kicks in his stomach were too hard. “Piteous dancer, don't you?” and now boys cheeks were shining with unwanted tears, that made the other ones laugh louder

“W-hat are you…” He whined in pain as his body received a few more hard hits. It felt like he was slowly losing consciousness. Not sure how long it all lasted.  Only a low voice made the two attackers panic and throw him harder to the ground, making him twist with pain again through the paralyzing sensation. He cried out once more, and with the rest of his strength crawled to the brick wall.

Suddenly, someone rushed up to him, making him flinch and heart beat sped up again, starting to pound on his ribs couple of more times. His body began to tremble at the thought that once again being slapped in the face or being kicked. However, nothing of the sort happened, and a delicate scent of floral perfume entered his nostrils before a soft voice spoke.

"Hey, I'll help you okay," and the voice seemed to come from afar, but almost feeling like he had already heard it somewhere.

His head dropped to the other side as someone's fingers gently brushed his shoulder. Insecurity gripped him tightly in its strong arms, but when his eyes caught sight of a familiar face an unexpected warmth spread inside. It was her, the girl he thought of more often than he expected himself. She was looking at him worriedly, and her chubby cheeks were covered in soft pink, her hair tied tightly on top of her head allowing him to look at her face even more clearly.

While his view was much beyond the mist, more as he would have liked, in fact, sometimes he still felt like the world was spinning around him, once the cool hands are on his cheeks, he thought his heart would explode. Thumbs gently caressing his cheeks, making him flustered but happy at once. He didn't expect that the person who was going to help him would be the one who had closed the door on him just a few days ago. 

As her hands disappeared from his cheeks, the sudden sense of chill was back, and the stronger breeze blowing into the alley made his body shiver even more. However, her arms embraced him around the waist securely, trying to somehow lift the body from the cold ground, but the boy was helpless making only a quiet whine full of pain escape his lips.

A mass of curses overflowed in Jimin's head, wanting to help somehow. But unable to get his muscles to cooperate making him feel like an unnecessary burden clenching his hands tighter on the girl's jacket as she manages to get them both on their feet. Her hands were firmly on his waist, closely hugging his body to hers, and the boy's heart was still racing like crazy.

Once again the delicate scent entered his nostrils, and he tried as much as he could to inhale it like the best drug, only to remember her for longer. The fingers of the girl's hand gently stroked Jimin's body making warm waves begin to flood him. However, he could do nothing more than send a gentle smile when she looked at his face again.

"Jimin-ssi please tell me you're able to walk," he took a deep breath, as he heard her soft voice filled with so much care. For a long while he felt as if he couldn't breathe at all. Just staring into her shiny eyes.

He nodded finally, but as he took the first step, hard pain spread through the muscles and body wobbles making her hold him even tighter - as if it were possible. He felt the fingers stronger dig into his jacket so he looked at her face again, observing focused expression.

Heart skipped a beat with every stronger hold. Everything was aching but she seemed to ease his pain too well. The longer he looked at that face, the more sure he was that this was someone who was destined to stay in his life for a long time. His thoughts were tangled in the whirlwind of emotions swirling within about her.

"I'll take you home, I promise," a whisper came to his ears but himself felt like losing consciousness slowly. In the same time sensing that he was home already...in her arms made him even more sleepy.

Strong gusts attacked them both, Jimin was wobbling, hearing curses under her breath but it was so hard to pick out what was real and what was not. He focused only on the warm embrace around him, wishing to forget the pain spreading throughout his whole body.

Jimin  could feel his legs shaking with each step he took, but with a clenched jaw walked along, throwing his weight slightly onto the girl's back just as she asked him to. When a quiet huff full of relief escaped her lips and Jimin lifted his gaze to see the familiar block some of the dragging emotions eased.

He did not remember the way to the flat itself well. As he crossed the threshold of the door and his nose was attacked by the smell of coffee mixed with the delicate aroma of mint, which clung pleasantly to him. And it was the thing he remembered the most. This assuring scent, that he was already safe. Yet there was also these unpleasant chill swept over his body. As she settled him down on the sofa and stared at his face taking a seat next to him. 

He himself wasn't sure if the cold was caused by the sudden lack of her touch, or by the leaks that he'd tried to deal with in his flat by turning on the heating.  As her fingers tentatively reached up towards his face, lifting his jaw and observing the scratches that were probably on it, a look of shame came over Jimin. 

Why this is how she has to see him up close?

“I should take him to the hospital” she murmured quietly and stood up but Jimin couldn't just let her go, not when he could look at her like that. And he was quick to hold her hand, feeling this pleasant warmth again. 

“I'll be fine, there's no need” He protested quickly, not wanting to lose her again, fingers still holding onto hers

“You can have broken ribs!” she whined cutely, almost making him burst in a happy chuckle. But he refused, only asking if he can stay here today.

And he felt only her first gentle touches. As rather quickly and carefully she dressed his wounds, making her hands go under his shirt, a few times, asking previously just to bandage up the bruise marks on his ribs. Jimin felt self-loathing at the time. He told himself that because of his awful looking body, she wouldn't look at him the way he wanted.

And she as if feeling his tense, begin to brush his hair softly as the wounds were already dressed. With that, Jimin fell asleep on the couch just a short while after she comfortably placed his body on the sofa pillows. The only thing he remembered before falling into a complete sleep was the tender touch of a gentle hand on one of his. He fell asleep with the hope that she had held him all night.

In the morning, he was awakened by a noise breaking through from the street into the flat. With pain in literally every part of his body, he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as a long yawn left his lips. One of his hands stretched upwards, hoping to dissipate some of the pain, but the other was pressed with an unfamiliar weight against the soft surface beneath his fingers. As he finally opened his eyes, the first question that popped into his mind was where the hell he was...but a soothing scent quickly entered his nostrils. 

And it didn't take a second for his head to fall to one side, where the weight was pressing against a shoulder. Jimin saw her peaceful, sleeping face. Cuddled tenderly onto, with her face slightly pressed into his sleeve. But as her head was lying comfortably, the back was leaning awkwardly onto the edge of the furniture, making his spine ache at the thought. 

He bit his lip, not knowing whether he should wake her up already or let her sleep after all and let himself admire her a little longer. But he didn't have to think for long as the girl slowly opened her eyes.

When gazes met, she pushed herself back sharply from the sofa, causing to bang her head on the glass table. She cursed hissily, provoking a quiet laugh from the boy, which unfortunately turned into a muffled whine when his muscles reminded him of themselves again. 

“I'm so, so sorry. I shouldn't, but I was concerned if you should stay alone here and all…” her cheeks took on a rosy colour, which for the fair-haired man was the most adorable thing he could ever see.

“I-it's fine. Thank you for taking care for me”

“Um, yeah so… Jimin-ah, time to eat. What would you like for breakfast?” quiet question left her lips, making boy to smile again. Couldn't resist the cuteness in front of his eyes.

“I'd rather know your name first, cutiepie” her eyes widened, as she stood up looking at him with surprise. He tried to sit up despite the spreading pain, never leaving her eyes. Still looking deep inside.

"Ah, right, shit sorry. It's Y/n. Hwang Y/n. Sorry for making you uncomfortable" she said flushed, then moved quickly towards the kitchen, brushing the invisible dust off her butt. "I hope the most basic pancakes will suit you. I don't have the ingredients for anything else" her voice was a little louder so that in the living room Jimin could hear everything, but he didn't answer her, which was mutually taken as agreement.

As the minutes passed by, Jimin only listened to the way the girl moved around in the kitchen. But he couldn't stand to be alone any longer. So he got up from the couch, letting out another long huff in an attempt to ease the pain, and moved to follow the smell of the pancakes which were already getting ready. Alongside the coffee and mint, there was now also the smell of cinnamon, which had been probably added as one of the ingredients.

“Damn, smell so good” he said suddenly, making her jump from the oven and look at him with sharp eye

“Want me to burn myself or what? And why aren't you lying down?” she said low, without taking eyes off the pan

“Wanted to check on you” her brow raised, as now she glanced at him and one more time, as flipped another pancake on the plate

“You on me? Interesting…thought you were the one hurt here.” she mumbled and take the same plate, onto which she had previously dropped a few smaller pancakes, to set it on the small table “eat up”

Jimin looked at the pancake, swallowing the saliva hard. Feeling his distaste for any food suddenly come, making his stomach do a few more flips. On the one hand, he didn't want anything to go into his gastro, but seeing that most likely the girl had made it just for him, he couldn't help but grab one of the pieces in his hand and chew slowly, eventually swallowing it with difficulty.

“Uh,” her sigh make him look up, and concerned face observed him attentively ”I know I'm not the best cook, but I thought it's not that bad…”she murmured, sitting down opposite him, eating now by herself

“No, no! It's good. I just, shouldn't really eat…you know” now her brow again wandered up

“And why it so?” her question fell, causing the room to fall silent for a long moment. With his eyes fixed on his plate, Jimin didn't know if he should say anything. In fact, he didn't know what he really could either...it was just that the voice in his head said he couldn't eat and that was that. “Listen, I know I shouldn't like put my nose in your life and all, but yeah as I study medicine it seems like something…nasty, unhealthy”

“I just can't, I look how I look” he burbled

“You look weak, as if you were to lose all your strength in a second. And it worries me, even if it shouldn't.” her voice was unsure, the words came out slowly, not intending to offend in any way, but something sting in Jimin's chest. The pain was sharp, and he felt like crying but only clenched his jaw and make an sharp eyes to spit up quick

“I'm just fine, okay?” And Jimin looked up to stare at the girl sitting opposite him, whose eyes were fixed on his face with concern.

“If you say so…I-I just want you to know that, even if it doesn't bring anything, you look really beautiful for me, a-and I would love you to keep yourself healthy. A-and also, If you want to talk about anything, I'm here.” Her voice was unsteady, coming out with a clear sense of anxiety yet despite everything, Jimin somehow felt...safe. 

Though even if still inside him, thoughts still revolved around all the possible imperfections that covered his body, for a tiny moment he tried to push away the shame and fear relating to his image. He couldn't lie to himself that the girl's words seemed like a trick to him. Because after all, how could anyone find him beautiful? And yet somehow they resonated with him and he wanted to try and change his perception. Just a tiny bit for her...

They spent the day together. And with every hour that passed, as the girl cared for a Jimin who was tired of everything - he felt more and more comfortable knowing that every second of her presence was inviting him to give her more of his heart. 

Each moment they were finding topics occupying their time genuinely. One could say that they were both pulling at each other's tongue. One was finishing, the other was starting. And as much as they both didn't seem to be the most talkative characters, it seemed very different in each other's presence. Looking into each other's eyes as they talked, a sense came over the two of them that this could not have been mere coincidence, but destiny. People didn't simply get to know each other and understand without words from their first meeting, yet from the meeting one night a spark of hope ignited in both hearts, beating with a similar rhythm.

They simply had to meet sooner or later. Because he was made for her and she for him.

[call-sign-shark]

Oh yess Lee, I'm kicking my feet right now! You can't imagine how impatiently I've waited for that first chapter.

Aurora arriving in the room and moving with a cat's grace felt so intense through your description of her body language that I could almost see her in front of me. You're perfectly balancing the typical sexism of the era with the creation of a strong woman character, which is not an easy task. Quite the contrary. I particularly love the lines "Although she hadn’t been invited to give her opinion, she’d been listening to every word, silently judging the ludicrous plan Luca was suggesting" and "The air grew thick with their silence and as Aurora’s eyes scanned the room, she noticed not one of the men looked in her direction". How she manages to stand fierce in a room full of men, to the point of facing Luca is impressive even if I can't help but be afraid for her knowing the nature of their relationship. This is later perfectly described with your wonderful (and my personal fav) line "However, there were things she’d learned on her own as a result of being the only woman in a room full of men. How you had to demure and make them think an idea had been their own".

Honestly, I am just in love with the way you built tension in their relationship. I don't know how can someone be so incredibly skilled with words, but I can feel the fire and the storm when they argue. The discussion between Enzo and Matteo was also a brilliant way to add a layer of violence between Aurora/Luca. Luca's abusive nature and Aurora's temper are so well known that they've grown used to it, to the extent of joking about Aurora's death -- this had me literally reacting with goosebumps. Overall, every time you describe their relationship is extremely efficient. I especially think about the way she's become skilled at hiding her bruise and how she always falls back into Luca's arms. His line "Thank God she married a man like me to keep her in her place, right?” is truly frightening. Your portrayal of Luca is incredible, you've managed to create a whole threatening aura around him. The fact he hit her just before meeting the Solomons and made her fall broke my heart.

Now, I kinda smiled like an idiot when I read about Rose. This is such a lovely addition as well as a very fitting character for the story. I love this OC so much that seeing her interacting with Aurora was too much for my little heart. Your portrayal of Flor's character left me impressed: I think you've perfectly pictured the essence of the Rose, with her asking for Aurora to come with them and, later, with her helping our favorite Italian girl. You're really spoiling me. 😁

The scene between Aurora and Tommy was exquisite. I loved how their introduction to each other starts with his resentment for his wife death, it's really in character. I can't continue commenting without mentioning the line "Violent men all had the same deceiving comportment, a snake coiled and ready to strike. " which is just perfect. You never cease to amaze me with your talent. In truth, I was wondering how this first meeting between your OC and Tommy would be, considering she's a Sabini and that she's known as a fierce woman. Truth is, I am not disappointed: the way they behave around each other and their mutual distrust create an incredible dynamic. That last exchange, with Tommy asking her why she is laughing is heartwrenching but her confession is also one of the most beautiful depictions of emotional distress I've ever read. Watching this stunning and fierce woman crumbling in bits made me teary.

Lee, I think I don't need to expand on your literary talent because at this point, it's not fanfiction. It has the quality of a published piece of work. What I need to say though is how I love this new OC of yours. You've managed to build such a sad, strong, and broken character at the same time! I must say that I'm now emotionally involved with Aurora, she's my poor little sweetheart (even if she's as fierce as a wildcat). I can't wait for the next chapter.

My Sun, My Moon and All My Stars-Part 1

Luca Changretta x OC (Aurora Sabini Changretta) x Tommy Shelby

Summary: Luca and Aurora Changretta come to the UK to avenge the murder of Luca's brother and father. However, as their volatile marriage unravels, events take an unexpected turn.

Author's Note: This has been on my mind since I created the moodboard ages ago. And it's been requested in several forms, the most recent being a lovely anon who wanted to see Tommy with an American mafia girl. OC Rose Solomons belongs to @raincoffeeandfandoms. Prequel has been posted as phone calls in two parts here and here. I would def recommend reading that before starting this fic! One more part coming soon!

Warnings: language, domestic violence, mention of blood, use of ethnic slur

Luca stood pointing at a map with his forefinger, tracing a path from the garden to the center of Arrow House, mumbling in a low voice to his men. Thunder rumbled overhead as Aurora made her way into the room, unnoticed by everyone, tracing the perimeter of the room as she listened carefully. When she’d heard enough she spoke up from the back of the room, voice loud enough to be heard, but even and measured to show she was in control as much as her husband. “Non sono d’accordo, Luca.”

Luca’s head shot up as he searched between the faces to find his wife, though he thought he’d caught a hint of her perfume moments earlier, taunting him as he attempted to strategize. 

“It’s too risky to approach him at home again,” Aurora declared, stalking toward the desk with cigarette in hand. The smoke parted the men before her arrival at the table and she stamped out her cigarette a bit too forcefully before joining her husband where he stood. Although she hadn’t been invited to give her opinion, she’d been listening to every word, silently judging the ludicrous plan Luca was suggesting.

“Don’t you remember what the intelligence said about his family? They’re gypsies, fucking savages,” she emphasized. “And he’ll be expecting us this time,” Aurora said with a dismissive shake of her head. Luca’s face and neck reddened at the scolding tone of her voice, his blood boiling instantly at her show of arrogance. 

The air grew thick with their silence and as Aurora’s eyes scanned the room, she noticed not one of the men looked in her direction. They shifted uncomfortably as Luca reached for a matchstick, placing it between his gritted his teeth.

A low growl emitted before his words, causing everyone to stand at attention once more. “And what would you have me do, tesoro?” he said the pet name without any hint of warmth, but Aurora did not back away. In fact, she stepped closer to her husband, standing just below his shoulder as she placed a hand to his forearm gently. 

“I’m only asking that we consider a few more options,” she said diplomatically. Then she reasoned, “There must be another way to get to Tommy Shelby. His sister’s home in London or perhaps one of his factories. We’ll have to wait for him to come to us this time.”

Luca removed the match from his mouth as she spoke, lighting it and held it perilously close to her face as he taunted, “We smoke him out, principessa? Is that what you want?” he asked moving even closer, the flame in danger of catching her loose curls on fire.

Aurora didn’t blink as she watched the flame dance before her eyes. She could feel the heat close to her skin and her pulse quickened. “Basta cosi!,” she warned with raised eyebrow.

As lightning flashed outside the office window the spell was broken, Luca blew out the match with a dark chuckle. Turning to his men he concluded with a wave of his hand, “You heard my wife.” Then rolling up the map before him with haste he added, “We’ll pick this up tomorrow when everyone’s rested.” Everyone filed out, but Matteo and Enzo remained to ensure nothing else was needed for the evening. Aurora remained at the window as Luca instructed, “Seven o’ clock sharp, you understand?” 

“Yes, boss,” Matteo and Enzo replied, trudging toward their rooms. It was only their second night in England and they had not yet acclimated to the time difference. They felt the exhaustion seeping into their bones, the relentless demands weighing on them heavily. 

Before they could move more than a few steps down the corridor, they heard the shouting begin. It was an open secret that Luca and Aurora fought loudly and often. Aurora had grown up in a powerful New York family and thought herself equal to Luca which was not an opinion he shared. When his temper grew, he liked to prove that to her. Luca’s men knew better than to to involve themselves in their disputes despite the fact that Aurora often appeared with all manner of injuries the next day.

As the sound of glass shattering broke the crescendo of voices, Matteo ran a hand down his face, a hint of irritation as he sighed heavily. “Do you have the number for the hospital?” he asked Enzo, with quiet efficiency. 

Enzo nodded slowly. “And the morgue,” he added solemnly, eyes lingering on the doorknob. He didn’t want to listen to the distinct sounds of Luca’s blows striking the object of his ire or Aurora’s muffled cries, but he would have to stand watch until it was over to know how to proceed. 

Luca tired easily tonight and Aurora limped from the suite thirty minutes later, hair disheveled to hide the bruise forming across her cheekbone. She fell once, picking herself up from the plush carpeting with a sniffle and Matteo and Enzo turned from her as though they hadn’t seen her in ruin, a familiar routine of make believe.

“Let’s get some fucking sleep,” Matteo said when she disappeared into a separate room.

Enzo had just closed the door to his room and kicked off his shoes when the phone began to ring.

“Enzo, what’s going on? Luca hasn’t phoned,” Mr. Sabini grumbled.

“Luca’s been…working on strategy,” Enzo fumbled, thinking of the fight he’d just witnessed. He didn’t dare mention it to Aurora’s father though. Out of everyone who knew of their tumultuous marriage, Antonio Sabini was somehow unaware of his daughter’s plight. 

As if on cue, Antonio asked, “How’s Aurora?” 

Enzo gulped as he thought of a reply. “You know, she’s got her ideas,” he said truthfully.

“That’s my little girl,” Antonio answered proudly. He had always encouraged his daughter’s sharp mind and hadn’t objected when she insisted on accompanying her husband to advise him during the vendetta. If he was honest, she was much better at delicate affairs than her mercurial husband who was prone to snap judgements based solely on emotion. By contrast, Aurora handled pressure with a calm, collected detachment.

“Keep me informed, Enzo. I want to know everything,” Antonio said sternly. “And keep Aurora out of danger if it comes to that.”

“Yes, sir,” Enzo reluctantly agreed, unsure how he was going to keep the promise. 

“And Enzo, buy her blue hydrangeas tomorrow,” Antonio ordered. “They’re her favorite. I don’t want her feeling homesick,” he added softly, the fondness of a memory seeping into his voice and making it much quieter than before.

“Of course,” Enzo said, replacing the heavy receiver in the cradle and falling into bed, only to be awoken an hour later by the sounds of lovemaking in the room next door.

—————————————-

At seven the next morning, Aurora entered Luca’s office, smiling to herself as she held a large bouquet in her arms. All the men in the room turned to drink in the sight of her glamour, a trait that lived on in her from her exceptionally beautiful mother. Enzo and Matteo exchanged knowing glances as they traced the lines of her face, noting how talented she’d become at hiding the swelling and bruises. 

Although it sickened them to watch, she bent low to capture Luca’s mouth in a tender kiss, pulling away to breath a near silent “mi dispiace” against his lips. For reasons known only to her and Luca, they always fell back into each other’s arms. It was as predictable as the rising sun.

“I know you are, baby,” he replied, turning her out of his lap. 

“Grazie, amore,” she said sweetly holding up the flowers and stroking his cheek adoringly.

Luca knitted his brow, a hint of confusion noticeable, before he glanced up at his wife with a smug grin. “Of course, sweetheart. If you’ll excuse us, there’s business this morning and I think you had your say last night.”

Aurora nodded obediently and went to put the flowers in water as though in a trance. As soon as the door had shut behind her, Luca’s expression changed to a deep grimace. “Which one of you assholes got flowers for my wife?” He leaned forward onto his elbows, awaiting an answer.

Soon Enzo spoke up with a slight tremble in his voice. “It was me, but it wasn’t because of last night, Luca.”

Luca narrowed his eyes. “What the fuck did you say to me?”

“Her father asked me to get ‘em,” Enzo clarified with a slight cough, suddenly remembering his lines in the play they were subconsciously rehearsing at any given moment.

“Figlio di puttana!” Luca said, smacking the desk with his palm. “He spoiled her and now look how she acts!”  He shook his head with an indignant scoff, turning to look out the window. “Thank God she married a man like me to keep her in her place, right?”

———————————————

“We aren’t in Darby’s territory any more. Where are we going, Luca?,” Aurora asked as the car bumped along the narrow roads. Luca turned to look out the window as though he didn’t hear, second guessing his decision to bring his wife along to the negotiations with the mad baker of Camden Town. However, Aurora would not be ignored. She had played the dutiful wife for two weeks so as not to insult his manhood further, but every attempt at moving closer to Tommy Shelby had failed, resulting in multiple casualties. To make matters worse, every man lost was a member of her own family, brought from New York to aid the Changrettas in their vendetta. The idea of losing more men sickened her and she began to consider the possibility that she would have to challenge her husband once more.

Then Luca spoke up, but he only offered a sliver of information. “We’re on our way to Camden Town, alright?” he said before settling back into his seat with a sigh.

Aurora was an intelligent woman, raised at her father’s elbow watching the deals he made and how he researched his enemies. However, there were things she’d learned on her own as a result of being the only woman in a room full of men. How you had to demure and make them think an idea had been their own. She’d learned the art of manipulation and weaponized it early on as a means of survival. Today called for such an approach.

“An alliance with the Jews? That’s clever,” she praised, hoping her guess was correct. Running a hand along his knee seductively, she waited for Luca to confirm her suspicions.

Luca turned to face his wife, a surprised look on his face. “And how do you know about Alfie Solomons?” 

“He’s connected to the east Boston Jews. But, Darby knows him, of course. Says he’s unpredictable and violent,” Aurora added wearily.

She watched the muscles in Luca’s jaw tighten beneath the shadow of his fedora, knowing he didn’t like Aurora involving herself. Rubbing two fingers against his chin thoughtfully, he dismissed her concern. “I’ve spoken to your father and he approves. That’s all you need to know,” Luca said firmly.

“I wish you would tell me more about today,” she cajoled.

“No, amore. Not this time,” Luca said, clasping his large fingers over her gloved hand and giving her a squeeze that bordered on painful reprimand.

As the car jerked to a stop in front of a dilapidated building in Camden Town, she turned to her husband and took once last desperate chance as they exited the vehicle. “Luca, let me speak to Mr. Solomons. A woman’s touch might be just the thing to keep him from imploding,” she said innocently, biting her lip.

This infuriated Luca and he pulled her back, making her stumble on the rough cobblestones. “Like hell you will. This is my deal!” he spat.

“That concerns my family name and my blood!” Aurora retaliated, hitting him across the face, unable to control herself further.

Luca’s eyes blazed with fury, striking her in return with full force. Unstable on her injured leg, Aurora fell to the street, slicing her arm as she hit, immaculate clothing ruined in the filthy street.

“Get the fuck up,” Luca hissed through clenched teeth, unapologetically. 

Aurora winced as she pushed herself up, feeling the pain in her arm throb as soon as he placed weight onto her hand. She would never admit weakness though. “Vaffanculo!” she yelled, placing her fingertips to her chin and thrusting them toward him. 

Luca leaned down and dragged her to her feet, fingers digging into her flesh as he swore, "You make any more trouble for me and I swear to God you'll die here, Aurora. No one will know the difference. Maybe I'll marry your little sister when I get back. Always liked her better anyway," he smirked cruelly as a small woman with dark hair appeared before them. 

“Can I help you with something?” she asked, looking the couple up and down, hands on her hips with more authority than someone her size ought to have. 

Luca released his wife immediately, straightening her clothes as he painted on a charming smile. “My wife fell on the cobblestones,” he explained smoothly. “I’m here to see Alfie Solomons. Is he in?” he inquired as he stepped forward, seeming to forget his wife in distress.

“Depends on whose asking,” the woman replied, glancing at Aurora with concern. 

Luca removed his hat as he introduced himself. “I’m Luca Changretta,” he said, extending a hand.

Nonplussed by his attempt to con her, the tiny woman tilted her head at him. “And who is she?” 

Luca coughed to cover his embarrassment. “This is my wife, Aurora. She’ll be staying outside,” he said with a pointed look at his wife, who stood, cradling her arm.

“If you want to see my husband, I insist this woman come in as well. She requires medical attention,” Rose said sternly. 

“If you insist,” Luca said, pursing his lips. 

“I insist,” the woman said with a smug smile. “I’m Rose Solomons, Alfie’s wife. Please come in,” she said with a wave of her arm.

“Darling,” Luca said with a sneer, extending his arm toward Aurora.

Aurora pushed past him and followed Rose inside. Luca followed two steps behind, removing a match from his pocket and chewing it ferociously. He didn’t like being humiliated by the Solomons woman and made a mental note to make Alfie pay dearly for it.

As Luca was shown to Alfie’s office, Rose took Aurora to a separate part of the distillery. Her interest was peaked now that she’d witnessed something between husband and wife that felt unsavory. The Solomons’ liked to make it their business to know everything about their associates and this felt like something worth noting.

———————

Rose expected someone quite different from the woman she was meeting today. She’d heard Aurora Changretta was a tigress, someone who never gave an inch to her enemies. However, the woman who stood before her bloodied and broken was not in a position to argue. She might listen to the plea on Rose’s lips so she began in earnest.

As Rose handed over a flannel dipped in cool water, she admitted what she wanted. “I’ll be blunt, Mrs. Changretta. My Alfie has cancer. He’s riddled with it. The doctors say it’s probably from the gas during the war,” she explained with furrowed brow as though she didn’t understand or believe the words that came from her lips. However, Aurora knew them to be true. They were the admission of someone who loved deeply and had not yet come to terms with an imminent loss. 

“I’m sorry,” Aurora responded. “But I don’t see how I can help,” she admitted.

Rose cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders, rising to her full height. “You can get that man out there to go home. Leave us in peace for the days we have left,” she asserted.

Aurora bit her lip to keep a bitter laugh from escaping. Instead she just shook her head. Taking a deep breath she turned to Rose and spoke slowly to make the other woman realize her predicament. “You think I tell him the ways of the world? No, he doesn’t listen to me anymore,” she admitted, dabbing at her wounds. “He has very little use for me these days,” Aurora admitted in a soft whisper.

Rose took in the sight before her, bruises covered by layers of make up, bones badly healed over time. The limp when she walked inside and the arm she cradled gingerly now. This was a woman who knew suffering. 

“You’d die by his hand? Because that’s where you’re headed, love,” Rose warned, recalling her own difficult past. “Won’t you try?”

Aurora paused for a moment, a trickle of bloody water running down her elbow as she washed. This went against everything Aurora had ever been taught. You never spoke against your family, no matter what happened. Her parents ingrained that in her at an early age. However, her parents’ marriage had been one based on love and respect. No matter how many times they reconciled, she and Luca did not carry the same affection.

As she sat in the damp distillery, listening to the distant sound of machinery, she thought of her future with Luca and his intention to crush her beneath him became abundantly clear. He didn’t care for her as he once did. When the money and the resources were gone, he would dispose of her.

Finally Aurora mumbled one word into the darkness of the small room, keeping her voice low in case Luca was nearby. “How?”

Rose inhaled a sharp breath, chin rising suddenly with renewed hope to meet Aurora’s wide hazel eyes, full of questions and doubt. She knew how hard it would be to ask this of kind of trust from a stranger, but if she could convince her to take the first step, the rest would fall into place.

“We get you to Tommy Shelby,” Rose said confidently.

Aurora shook her head violently. “No, please. He’ll kill me.”

“He won’t. He’s not Luca,” Rose promised, rushing the rest of her speech for fear Aurora might bolt in fear. “This vendetta was started by the Changrettas and your husband is using your family to fund his war. Now he’s asking my husband to help. It won’t stop unless we say so. We can stop him, Aurora. Will you join me?” Rose asked, reaching for Aurora’s bloodied hand.

Aurora’s lip trembled thinking of crossing Luca, but she had had enough. If there was one thing her father taught her it was to fight for her own interests and she knew she still had fight within her. 

“Yes, I’ll help you,” Aurora agreed on a shaky breath, reaching for Rose.

“We’ll protect you, I promise,” Rose said, intertwining her fingers with Aurora’s stained fingertips. The blood that tainted her would soon be washed clean.

————————————

It had taken another week and several clandestine phone calls before Aurora could steal away to meet Rose. She’d convinced Luca that she needed medicine for her cuts and he allowed her to leave the hotel though she knew she didn’t have long. Rose knew a man who could help them meet on neutral territory, but it would be brief as Luca sent a man to watch over Aurora whenever she left. With that in mind, Aurora stole away one afternoon wondering if this was all a mistake.

The bell above the door of the chemist rang out and Aurora took a deep breath, scanning the small shop for Rose. Just as she thought of leaving, she spotted the tiny woman stood in the corner, observing a box as though she were another patron. Aurora thought to approach her when a door opened at the back and she was beckoned inside. Within the span of a few moments Aurora found herself face to face with Tommy Shelby. She knew him from photographs and descriptions of his deep blue eyes like two pools that could drown you if you stared too long.

“You killed my wife,” Tommy said, a stillness coming over his features. Aurora sucked in a breath, recognizing the calm before the storm. Violent men all had the same deceiving comportment, a snake coiled and ready to strike. 

“Tommy, please. Take one look at her and you’ll see that she’s not here to harm you,” Rose interjected. Surely Tommy could see the state of Aurora. Then again perhaps he couldn’t see past his own pain. Rose glanced at Aurora and noticed a visible change in her demeanor, a hardening of her exterior as she refused to show any kind of weakness.

“Luca killed your wife. I only tried to kill you,” Aurora said defiantly, head held high.

“Then I want to know why you and you’re family are helping him,” Tommy said, a lump forming in his throat.

“You misunderstand, Mr. Shelby. This isn’t my fight,” Aurora whispered, feeling the weight of every life lost. 

“If this wasn’t your fight, as you say, why the fuck are you supplying your husband enough money and soldiers to overthrow the British empire, love?” Tommy countered, never losing his footing.

“Loyalty. I hear that you’re like me when it comes to your family, Mr. Shelby. You would do anything to protect them. I didn’t agree with my husband, but I promised to protect him….”

“Do you honestly think he’d do the same for you?,” Tommy asked, blue eyes icing over to match the chill in his voice. He knew he was being cruel, but he had to test her in this moment to see if she would crumble.

“I have no illusions about our marriage, Mr. Shelby,” Aurora confided on a low breath. She forced herself to make eye contact as she said, “I don’t want this life anymore. Rose told me you might be willing to strike a bargain.”

Tommy scoffed, turning away from Aurora and she worried what she’d been told was false information. 

“Fucking hell, Tommy. She’s here and she’s willing to talk. Isn’t that enough?” Rose asked, placing herself before her friend.

Tommy turned with a look of warning, “Alright, give him up.”

“What?” Aurora asked.

“Give up your husband and we’ll call it even,” Tommy said, a wicked grin coming over his handsome face.

Aurora swallowed harshly, considering the choices at her disposal. Stay and see more bloodshed or end it with one final betrayal. It took only a fraction of a second to see the choice she had to make. 

“An ambush,” Aurora said quietly, fixing her gaze on Tommy. “We have to make Luca think you aren’t expecting him. That he can take the shot.”

“How do I know I can trust you?” Tommy asked.

Aurora began to laugh.

“That’s fucking funny to you?” Tommy asked.

Aurora shook her head as a tear fell from her cheek, the enormity of her decision causing her to fall into a momentary fit of insanity. “He married me and he saw cashmere, cologne, red racing cars…” she sniffed as she looked away from him, trying to catch her breath. “All I wanted was love. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. My parents didn’t want this for me. It’s like a nightmare now, Mr. Shelby. I just want out, you understand? I want out from under him,” she confided, her whole body beginning to shake. 

Rose approached her and covered her with her shawl. “It’s alright, Aurora. You’re going to be alright,” she promised, looking to Tommy.

“Artillery Square, two days time. Then I’ll know,” he said with a nod. 

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

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[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Oh... Well what about the sound pillar wives interaction with erotica?

If you're the darling who asked about the Kamboko Trio earlier, I'm sorry I couldn't do it just yet but I hope this makes up for it!!!

Love ya🖤🖤🖤

Exotica | Yandere Uzui Tengen Wives x Reader

Hinatsuru- Arguably the most loyal wife of Uzui’s is also the hardest to read. She was good at keeping her persona intact, but even despite that you’d still make an effort to drop some important information about the schedules. She isn’t stupid and she notices. Similar to how Uzui reacts, she suspects you and decides getting closer to you is a tactic to advance in her position and in gaining information. She again isn’t wrong. You of course accept her advancements even though you know it's only for her mission. It isn’t until you show her that you're more than some mysterious cash cow.

“Hey I said I wanted to book you! Answer me!” Some drunken man had wandered in. Where the head lady was, no one knew. He was big, big enough to scare off the other braver seniors. You just so happened to be out walking your rounds before bed seeing the silhouette of a man hitting a woman. When you hastily slide away the door you see Hinatsuru on the floor being clung to by this animal. For a moment it ran through your head that she could kill him two times over if she wanted, but because of her duty she wouldn’t. You cleared your throat gaining his attention, he dropped her immediately. The sound of her body crumbling against the tatami mats, enraged you even further.

“I-I know you! Your Exotica-sama, a spirit of good fortune!” He moved to hold you like he was an old friend, leaving him wide open for your foot to raise up and smash down on his groin. He’ll fall to cradle it, crying like a baby in the meantime you rush over helping the shinobi up. You didn’t comfort her like you typically would, you knew she’d be more angry than sad. You held her shaking fists, whispering against the nape of her neck. “I know what you want to do. Stay calm. Let them deal with this.” She let out a breath accepting your hand and taking your advice. The man was still drunkenly crying on the ground, you in the meantime took a spilled cup of ink and poured it on his head; careful to avoid his eyes. In perfect timing the headwife, her husband, and some men that must have been called to help came and dragged him out. Now you were tired and you knew you’d have to take off everything and hopefully slip into blissful sleep without demon-intervention. You hastily left the scene leaving an amazed Hina to recall the encounter, helped by the other girls who had watched fearfully.

From there she looked at you more inquisitively. Who were you? To command a room and even be so wise and vengeful to have marked that man for his transgression against the Kyogoku house. You later did instruct the head-wife not to never buy business from him until he was no longer marked. Soon interest turned to respect and then became a love she hadn’t felt since she had first been chosen Lord Tengen. She would be sure to ask Lord Tengen about having you, she just couldn’t get enough. Not to mention how good you were with kids. The little handmaidens and the little boy from your main family all followed after you like ducks and you nurtured them with knowledge and wisdom. Because of her lifestyle she never thought of bringing children into this world, unless Lord Tengen wanted it. But maybe if you were a trained homebody taking care of the kids, then maybe it could be possible. She’d have to ask for Lord Tengen’s approval.

Makio-As snappy as she was, you matched her energy. Before she was trapped within the belt of Daki, you two had become accustomed to the banter you’d have together. She brought a type of snarkiness out of you that you often pushed away because of the way Exotica was supposed to be. You vaguely mentioned this after a laughing fit where you were left breathless. Being one of the first you met she was excited to see what you thought of her fellow wives. She hoped she was your favorite. When you did give her information specific to the house you hoped she was taking note but she seemed so into hanging around you that may have not come across properly. Thankfully though with a few more of your hints she’d get on the ball. At the time you were already anxious about trying to change the events of the story; what’s worse is that Daki had been extremely suspicious of her recently. During your tea session with the Oiran in hopes of dissuading her you buttered up about how awkward Makio was as a newbie. To add on top of that you gave her a massage and cuddled her but this unusually affectionate behavior caught someone’s attention.

You had been relaxing as you watched the moon fade in and out of view thanks to the dark clouds when you heard the sound of skin stretching and phony bones cracking. You told yourself to calm as you recognized the unnerving audible scritching of nails against skin.

“You thought I was stupid, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what you're talking about. You're not anything like that.”

“Oh yeah,” The curving of Gyutarou’s gnarly hand carefully wrapping around your neck from behind stopping to hold your face. “Then what was with all the extra attention? You can fool my dumb baby sister but you can’t fool me. Why?”

He squeezed for emphasis. You fought down a gulp and then tried to speak, which was impossible because of how hard he was squeezing your cheeks. He let you go instead allowing himself to wrap possessively around your waist and chest.

“I only did it because she was so nervous about her losing my attention I just wanted to let her know that Makio isn’t a threat–Ghk!” You tried to keep your noise in as he squeezed your breast moving to angrily snarl.

“Sorry, I knew it bothered you both. Could you forgive me?” You tried to maintain your mask as you reached your free arm up to rub and scratch at his head. This appeased him, so he set you back on your futon and closed your blinds before returning back to Daki who seemed to have done the demon-equivalent of napping.

The next day, you were worried you wouldn’t see that familiar orange set of bangs. But much to your surprise she greeted you in a somber way. Perhaps Warabihime had threatened her or she just had a sixth sense but she requested to spend the day with you. Even as you ran errands, spoke with clients, and did your teaching with the young girls she stuck by your side. As the sun set and you packed to move to the next house, you could sense her anxiety. It would only be a few hours before they began to escort you to the Tokito house.

“Makio, I-Oh”

She held you in an intimate hug, holding your waist and guiding your head closer to hers.

“Listen to me (Y/n), “ She pulled your casual veil away to bring you close enough that your noses were touching. “Lord Tengen will come for me. I have no doubt about that. I just want to make sure that if I’m gone he’ll take you. “

“Wait, what?

“Don’t worry everything will work out, I love you!” She pecks your lips, lifting you to tightly squeeze you, before hastily leaving from your room. It wouldn’t be until a day or two later that it was determined that she had committed Ashinuke.

Suma–Despite your first meeting where you had relied on her for comfort the roles were very quickly reversed. She would whine about a lot of different things that she didn’t like about the preparation the women of the Tokito house went through.

“NO! NO! NO! (Y/n)-sama tell them to stop!”

“But Suma, you have to see how you’ll look with this on your eyes.”

“Hold her down please!”

“WAAAAAAHHH!!!”

Her crybaby ways from the original story were not exaggerated; she truly did it all the time. You fought the urge to go full-on Makio on her because she could be so unreasonable sometimes. But after a while you were able to see past it for the better parts of herself, others not so much.

“WAAAH (Y/n)-sama I need you to let me seeeeee! I can’t work if I don’t seeeee!”

“Please Exotica-sama! Just so that we don’t have to hear it anymore!”

Suma on the other hand loved this, loved you. You were on the level of Lord Tengen but weaker than her enough so that she could push you around as she pleased. This was great. Oftentimes she felt she needed to bring attention to herself to help Hina and Maki shine more. Unfortunately in the process it made her the annoying, little one but you weren’t hogged by anyone she couldn’t keep up with. It was selfish that she delighted when your unmasked eyes wandered to her cleavage or when you looked deeply into her eyes. It was like falling in love all over again. She knows her greatest weakness is her greatest strength like how when she bats her eyes at Lord Tengen he’s slightly more willing to let her get her way; it works on you just the same. She’s sure to explore options on including you in her life soon after this mission in her letters. Unfortunately her interest and whiney manipulations remind Oiran Warabihime a bit too much of herself, plus she’s beautiful. A nuisance and sustenance solved in one go.

[marwritesgood]

Just Me | S. Basset

Pairing: Simon x WOC!Reader

Timeframe: Early Season One

Summary: Simon and Y/n had a long history together. So why did it take reading Lady Whistledown’s latest column for her to learn about his blooming relationship with Daphne Bridgerton?

masterlist

A/N: This fic is over 6K words. 

The mere thought of a BIPOC love story set in the 18th Century is enough to make me swoon. So I decided to give it a go and write one myself. There’ll be two more parts after this :)

I also wanted to keep the reader description applicable to any and all women of colour, so it’s a bit vague just to ensure all of us (women of colour) can feel included. Please let me know if there any parts of this fic that don’t do this and I’ll fix it asap! 

If you’re white, this fic is not for you to identify with x

Also, if at any point you find my attempt at mimicking the language used in Bridgerton laughable... you are not the only one lmao. This has been super fun to write and also very challenging, but I am well aware it is farrrr from perfect :)

Nonetheless, I hope it’s a nice read for my WOC readers <3

Simon and Y/n first met when they were children. Her mother was very closely acquainted with Lady Danbury, so naturally, a friendship grew between the two of them- and a strong one at that. 

For years, their interactions had remained within confinements of what was socially acceptable. They bickered. They laughed. They shared inside jokes about the people within their social circle. Their feelings for each other never extended beyond what was befitting of a friendship. 

That was until they grew older.

When marriage and love became more and more ingrained into casual conversations, Simon and Y/n explored their feelings for one another. Questioned the extent to which they cared for each other and whether there was something more beneath the surface.

However, just as Y/n came to realise her love for Simon, he left for London. After a few short weeks, he returned with a new title. A new vow that the Hastings bloodline would end with him. Subsequently, with it, any hope Y/n had of her relationship with him becoming anything more than all it had always been: a friendship.

A year had passed since the sorrowful conversation resulting in Simon and Y/n agreeing to not indulge in the affections they shared. Since then, Y/n struggled to focus on securing a marriage proposal from one of the suitors in her town.

“This is your second season,” Y/n’s mother cried as she paced across the sitting room. Y/n sat in silence, having been interrupted from playing the piano by another one of her panicked outbursts. “Your second season and yet you continue to reject every marriage proposal you receive.”

She couldn’t blame her mother for being frustrated with her. As her only daughter, she needed to find a good match and be married off as soon as possible. Her father was of old age, but even he remained restless that Y/n be married. He much preferred the prospect of dying knowing that the estate would be inherited by Y/n’s husband instead of his nephew.

“I did not reject Mr Graham’s proposal, mama,” Y/n responded, unnervingly calmly considering how distraught her mother was. Mr Graham’s proposal was the latest one she had received that season. “I... simply asked for more time to consider my answer.”

“What on earth is there to consider?” Mrs Y/l/n shrieked. Her frustration only grew when her daughter was unable to answer her question. Y/n turned away from her mother. “He is a good man. He comes from a good, honourable family and will give you a good future- something you will not have if you continue to turn away suitors.”

“Mama, please.” Y/n could not say anything more, for fear that her mother’s anger toward her would only grow if she were to find out the truth. The real reason she could not yet bring herself to accept a marriage proposal.

“Why do you need time to consider, Y/n?” Her daughter had stood up from behind the piano and had her back turned to her mother. That did not stop her from continuing to pry. After so many rejected proposals, she felt she had a right to know why her daughter refused to marry. “I beg of you, tell me- what is there to consider?... What could possibly be keeping you from marrying Mr Graham.”

They stood in silence for a moment before Y/n sighed exasperatedly and turned back to face her mother.

“I do not love him,” Y/n replied in a hushed cry, only just loud enough for Mrs Y/l/n to hear from across the room. “He may be a good man, mama, but I... I do not love him, and I do not believe I ever could.”

She knew from their first encounter that she could never love him. Perhaps it was how he mispronounced her grandmother’s name or the way he possessed the same arrogance as every other suitor Y/n encountered. 

“My dear,” Mrs Y/l/n said, her voice and expression softening entirely. She reached out for her daughter’s hand and took hold of it gently. She knew precisely how Y/n felt, which meant that, unfortunately, she knew there was nothing to be done. “We have talked about this. Women like you and I... we do not have the luxury to make decisions based on our own feelings.”

Y/n was surrounded by women who did not share the same experiences she did. Women who could not empathise with the challenges she faced and being a woman in the 18th Century. Not even if they tried.

Therefore, whenever Y/n found herself hoping for the same things as the white women around her, she had to bring herself back to reality. She had to remember that if life was unkind to white women, it would always be hell for women like her, no matter who married into the royal family.

“I know,” Y/n answered. 

She did. She knew it was incredibly reckless of her to reject all of the proposals she had received. She knew she was naïve for basing her decision based on love. Yet, even so, she could not keep herself from holding out on the hope that she would not end up in a loveless marriage.

“I do not mean to upset you, Y/n,” Mrs Y/l/n said sincerely, as she guided her daughter to the nearest seat. “But I fear that if you continue on, you will have no more proposals to reject, and I... I simply cannot bear the thought... Please, dear, you must-”

Y/n began to close her eyes ready to brace herself for what she feared would inevitably happen- her mother insisting she accepts a proposal. However, just as she did, a maid knocked on the door and promptly brought in the newspaper. When Simon left for London, Y/n requested that any newspaper copy or mail sent to her from London be immediately handed to her. She looked forward to any kind of update on him.

“Thank you,” Y/n said to the maid as she handed her the newspaper. Without hesitation, she immediately turned to Lady Whistledown’s column.

“What does it say?” Her mother asked, giving up on her attempts at convincing Y/n to accept a marriage proposal, at least for the time being. 

Y/n’s blood ran cold as she read the column. She had expected to hear more about the bitter impression Simon was leaving in London. She was going to comment on how typical arrogant white elitists villainising anyone who did not approach them in a way that appeases their ego.

But that was not what she read.

Instead, she read about Simon showing a particular interest in the woman named the ‘Diamond of the Season’ by the Queen herself- Miss Daphne Bridgerton. She read about him courting her and spending a significant amount of time with her. She read about flowers, the expensive kind, and walks through Hyde park, and she was unsure whether to feel betrayed or feel furious.

It was one thing for Simon to begin courting another woman, after explaining to Y/n that he would never marry. It was another for her to have to learn all of this from reading the Lady Whistledown column. 

Without providing her mother with an answer as to what the column wrote, Y/n slammed the newspaper against the table beside her and stood up abruptly. 

Her mother went to reprimand Y/n for slamming the paper so violently against her favourite table. However, Y/n walked hastily into her bedroom. She began to plan what she was to pack when she would leave for London in the morning.

She was adamant on learning the truth in its entirety. And, this time, not from an anonymous publisher but from Simon himself.

***

Y/n had an aunt who lived in London with her husband and their three kids- all much younger than Y/n was. She knew that if she could get away with arriving in London unannounced with intent to stay for longer than a week, her only luck was with her aunt.

After she was escorted inside by one of the workers, Y/n stood and marvelled at her aunt’s husband’s estate. It looked nothing like the sitting room at her home. It looked fancier with much nicer things, leading her to think back to why her mother pushed so hard for her to marry. Mrs Y/l/n had helped her younger sister find a match, and now she lived in a beautiful home in London. 

Perhaps all she wanted was to ensure the same future for her only child.

“Y/n, my dear!” Her aunt came bursting through the doors with arms stretched out. She pulled Y/n into a tight embrace as she always did whenever greeting her niece. Before her three children, she had Y/n. “Oh, how I have missed you!”

“I have missed you too, Aunt Philippa,” Y/n smiled, gently clutching her aunt’s hand as she held her cheek. “Please forgive me for arriving here unannounced. I would have written to you in advanced, but I have an urgent matter to attend to.”

“Do not be silly, my dear,” Philippa laughed, before guiding her niece out of the sitting room and towards the staircase. “You are welcome to stay here for as long as you may need. Though I imagine your mother will be impatiently anticipating your return... how is my dear sister?”

“As restless as ever,” Y/n mumbled. Philippa’s laughter echoed across the halls. Just as she expected, her older sister had not changed. Not one bit. “She is adamant that I am engaged by the end of the season, which is part of the reason I needed to leave home so quickly.”

“I do not blame you, dear,” Philippa murmured. She knew from first-hand experience how relentless Y/n’s mother could be. Even so, she knew it was out of love. Y/n knew as well. “Now... what is the urgent matter you need to attend? I imagine you will need a chaperone... and perhaps a carriage?”

Y/n smiled in relief. Everything she had done leading up to her arrival in London was purely impulsive. She hadn’t even thought of how she would get to Simon or who she would have to escort and chaperone her. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know the whereabouts of... the Duke of Hastings?”

Philippa’s eyes grew twice in size. Whether it was shock or excitement, Y/n could not figure out. It wasn’t until her aunt pulled her into the nearest empty room, checked to see if anyone was listening in, and grinned at her that Y/n concluded it was the latter.

“When I read about the Duke and Miss Bridgerton, all I could think of was you,” Philippa began, speaking in a hushed tone, though unable to contain her excitement. She did not typically indulge in gossip, but she was entirely invested in staying updated to her niece and Simon. “You never did tell me what happened when he returned. Did you confess your feelings?”

Philippa had generously volunteered her afternoons so that her niece could practise what she would say to Simon. She hoped those afternoons had not been spent in vain.

“I did... And then he did too... Before telling me, he would never marry,” Y/n explained, trying to conceal the way her breath hitched and the way tears welled up in her eyes. “Though, after reading Lady Whistledown’s column, it is clear that perhaps he meant that he would never marry me.”

Philippa frowned and lifted her hand up again, holding the side of Y/n’s face and swiping the few tears she couldn’t stop from escaping. As she did so, Y/n inhaled sharply- trying desperately to keep herself from indulging in her sorrow.

“I am sure that is not the case, dearest,” Philippa insisted. 

She refused to believe Simon would do that to her niece. Not after the stories she had heard from Y/n as they grew up. Not to mention all the times she caught one staring at the other across ballrooms and dining tables. 

“We must hurry,” she chirped, dropping her hand so she could grasp her niece’s arm. “I believe the Duke will be in Hyde Park with Lady Danbury. ‘Tis best we leave now if we wish to catch them.”

Y/n smiled. Being with her aunt was a nice change of pace to being with her mother. She would have scolded Y/n had she caught wind of what had happened. 

***

Upon their arrival at Hyde Park, Philippa approached Lady Danbury. Her plan was to make conversation with her, find out more about Simon and Daphne’s relationship. Then, she would ultimately create a segue for Y/n to have a somewhat private conversation with Simon.

However, Y/n had other plans.

When they arrived, she scanned the park in search of Simon. Once she spotted him walking alone on the pavement, she threw caution and decorum to the wind. Before her Aunt Philippa could stop her, Y/n sprinted. 

Once she reached him, she grabbed his shoulder roughly, prompting him to turn around.

“Peach,” Simon whispered, dumbfounded by Y/n’s sudden appearance.

He stopped calling Y/n by her name when they were five. Instead, he called her Peach, for reasons that remained a mystery to Y/n. Despite not knowing the reasoning behind it, she always adored it. She was the only person he had a unique designated name for.

More recently, she wondered if Miss Bridgerton would soon become an exception.

“You owe me an explanation,” Y/n said harshly, not having the patience to beat around the bush. This was primarily because she wanted to know the truth and because she was out of breath from sprinting to Simon.  “Do I really mean so little to you, Simon?”

“Please lower your voice,” Simon begged, subtly grabbing Y/n’s arm and quickening their pace to avoid the crowded area of the park. 

“Do not speak to me as though I am a child,” Y/n growled, yanking her arm away from him and stepping back. 

“Then do not act like one,” Simon retorted.

Y/n scoffed, before dusting off her dress. Simon rolled his eyes to cover his nervousness. He had a habit of concealing it with aggression. Y/n was often able to see through it, but she was guilty of doing the same.

“What changed?” Y/n asked as she looked back at Simon. “You seemed so certain when you told me you would never marry. Now you have extended your stay in London to court Miss Bridgerton?”

“I wish I could give you an answer,” Simon responded honestly. It was perhaps the most honest statement he had made all month. 

His courtship of Daphne was a mere ruse to attract more suitors for her. Truth be told, Simon was incredibly stressed by it, but he was too deep into the lie to give up any time soon. He hadn’t anticipated Y/n would be caught in the middle of it.

“Well, what could be hindering you from doing so?” Y/n cried, confused by how vague and cryptic Simon was acting.

He struggles to find the right words. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Y/n any more than he already had, but he could not give her the answer she wanted. Although he was not actually courting Daphne, he still would not marry. Thus, he could not do what would make her happy, which was the main reason he kept his distance from her in the first place.

“Things are different now,” Simon said apologetically, hoping to deter Y/n from prying. Though he desperately wanted to say more, he knew that doing so was incredibly risky. “We... we are not children anymore.”

Y/n blinked, astonished by Simon’s reaction. It was far from what she had expected. She expected an explanation. She expected assurance. Instead, she has pushed aside as though she and her feelings were disposable. 

This was a familiar feeling to Y/n.

“Is that all you think of me?” She asked angrily. Simon, of all the people in her life, had the most power to hurt her. And he often did so without realising. “A child?... And our relationship? You think it is something as easy to put behind you as your childhood? Is that all this is to you, Simon?”

She went to speak again. To demand what she felt she had a right to. However, before she could get a word out, a woman appeared from behind her. She was fair-skinned and wore a dress that resembled her complexion. 

“Miss Bridgerton,” Simon gasped. He did not know whether to be grateful for her arrival or concerned about how it would affect Y/n. He eventually became both. “May I introduce you to Miss Y/l/n. She is a... very close family friend.”

Y/n had to keep herself from scoffing. She was more to him than just a friend. Y/n knew that well, despite Simon’s denial.

“I am terribly sorry,” Miss Bridgerton cried, averting her attention to Y/n. “I did not mean to intrude.”

“Not at all,” Y/n assured, smiling sincerely at Daphne. Her anger was entirely directed towards Simon. Unlike him, Daphne had no pre-existing history with Y/n to remain considerate of. “I actually must return to my aunt. It was lovely to finally meet you, Miss Bridgerton.”

Before Y/n turned to walk back to her Aunt Philippa, she glanced back at Simon, who was very clearly terrified of how calm Y/n was. He could only imagine the amount of anger she was harbouring. Deterring her would prove to be much more complicated than he expected.

“Your grace,” Y/n snarled through gritted teeth, before forcing a smile as she turned away.

***

It had been a week since Y/n and Simon’s interaction at Hyde Park.

Y/n sat beside her aunt Philippa in a carriage as she read through her mother’s letter. She had made vividly clear, through an eight-paged rant, that she was absolutely livid with her daughter. Y/n’s hands were trembling. 

“I assume she is quite upset?” Philippa asked, though she already knew the answer. 

Y/n had extended her stay to a week just so she could attend a gala at Lady Danbury’s estate. It was her last hope of catching a moment alone with Simon and gaining, at the very least, some form of closure. She hoped it would not come to that, but from their last interaction, Y/n was losing confidence.

“She is furious,” Y/n answered shortly, before folding the letter abruptly and placing it aside. Her mother wrote one demand that sent chills through her bones. “If I am not home within a week, she will come to London and take me back herself. Then, I will have to accept Mr Graham’s proposal.”

Philippa’s stomach dropped. She placed her hand atop her niece’s. Y/n looked down to conceal the tears that began to gather in her eyes. Philippa noticed and wrapped her arm around Y/n, gently squeezing her shoulder. 

“I am sure it will not come to that,” she whispered soothingly, though she struggled to sound sincere. Y/n nodded. She didn’t quite believe her aunt, but she knew there was no point in losing hope entirely. At least not yet.

Once they arrived at the gala, Philippa made conversation with a friend, whileY/n made way to Lady Danbury. The event was held in her courtyard. While others marvelled at her estate, Y/n felt a warm sense of nostalgia. When Lady Danbury brought Simon to her London estate during summers, she would often invite Y/n and her parents. While her parents and the Danburys made conversation in the house, Simon and Y/n would run about freely outside.

“Welcome back, Miss Y/l/n,” Lady Danbury smiled warmly, as Y/n and her aunt approached her.

“It is a pleasure to be here, my lady,” Y/n responded curtly, before laughing out loud as Lady Danbury pulled her into her arms for a tight hug. 

Once she let go, they made small talk. Lady Danbury asked Y/n how her parents were. Y/n asked Lady Danbury how she was and how her fruit orchards were. After they ran out of things to discuss, Y/n could not help but scan the room searching for Simon, who was nowhere to be found.

“I am not completely sure where he is,” Lady Danbury said, startling Y/n who had not realised how far from natural she was acting. “Though, he did complain about how suffocated he was by the throng here... I imagine he has gone to a place where it will be difficult for most to find him.”

Y/n thought for a moment. Lady Danbury was cryptic by nature, and after years of knowing her, she had a knack for figuring out what she meant. Once Y/n knew, she smiled at Lady Danbury, before excusing herself from the gala.

Y/n headed away from the gala and towards the maze area. It was well-lit, which she was grateful for as it meant she could navigate her way around swiftly. It felt like second-nature to her; running about in the Danbury’s London Estate. She forgot how much she enjoyed the thrill of running through and past the hedges.

Once she reached the maze’s centre, she saw Simon standing idle, his back towards where she stood. That was the place they spent most of their time. When they were younger, they would sit there and play games. As they got older, they would sit there and talk. Sometimes he would read while she drew. Sometimes vice versa. But most of the time, they spoke—about everything worth talking about, and then some.

“I remember the first time we played here together,” Y/n began, causing Simon to jump. Once he turned around and saw Y/n his tense posture softened, and a small smile appeared across his face. She felt relieved by it, though she didn’t want to let her guard down entirely. “I got lost, almost immediately, and you found me sitting here, cross-legged, in a puddle of tears. Do you remember?”

Simon chuckled. Of course, he thought. 

“You were inconsolable when I found you,” he mocked, prompting Y/n to reach out and lightly punch his shoulder. His laughter only grew.

“We were five,” Y/n reasoned. She would never admit that she was dramatic. Not even as a child. “I genuinely thought no one would ever find me... and then you did, within a matter of minutes.”

She joined him in laughing. It made for a very entertaining story that they retold relentlessly. While others were sick of hearing it, neither of them were sick of recounting it, for their own reasons.

“I told you I would never leave you behind,” he added, smiling as he thought back to that day. His smile faded quickly when he realised the irony. He frowned and took a step towards Y/n. “Peach, I must apologise-”

“-No... I am the one who must apologise,” she intervened. Simon stood back in confusion. Y/n sighed before clarifying herself. “I did not mean to blindside you so aggressively before. I did not come here to argue with you, Simon, I... I came to ask you if it is true... Are you courting Miss Bridgerton... with the intent of marrying?”

Simon winced. 

He felt conflicted by both his love for Y/n and the promise he made to Daphne to uphold their ruse. He could not in good faith outright admit that he was merely pretending to court Miss Bridgerton. However, he couldn’t bear the thought of breaking Y/n’s heart a second time.

His lips parted, but his mouth ran dry. Before Simon could keep himself from blurting out the wrong thing, he was overcome by a habit he developed over the last month of playing along.

“I am,” he answered.

Just as he did, he lifted his hand to his temple and scrunched his eyebrows. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Y/n. He was still haunted by the look on her face when he told her he would never marry.

“Right,” she sniffled, unsure how to react. Y/n had convinced herself that there was more to the story than what she had read from Lady Whistledown. She regretted how in-denial she allowed herself to become. 

One thing Y/n knew for sure, though, was that she did not want to be near Simon. Although she was on the verge of sobbing, she still turned around and intended to leave him, but Simon grabbed her arm and kept her from doing so.

“Please let me explain,” he begged.

Y/n’s tears halted as she glared at Simon, shocked. She shook her arm out of his grasp and took a step back from him. She had always despised the way men often treated women as though they were disposable and replaceable. She never expected Simon to be one.

“There is no explanation necessary,” she scoffed.

“Y/n, please, you do not understand,” Simon cried. It was rare for him to call her by her name, but Y/n dubbed it as him trying to manipulate her emotions. She would not let that happen. 

“No, of course, you would deceive me,” Y/n spat, unwilling to let Simon get a word in. She was tired of waiting around just to hear from him. This time, she would be the talking. He would be the one listening. “-about not wanting to marry or have children, and of course, I believed your ridiculous lie, like the fool I have always been for you.”

“Ridiculous?” Simon hissed. Y/n’s dismissal of his vow sparked a fit of anger that overcame him before he could realise it had done so. No one had ever called to question or criticised his decision to remain a bachelor for life. No one until Y/n.

“Perhaps not a ridiculous lie,” Y/n sneered. “No, it was more-so childish and nonsensical.”

“And yet, you believed it... What is that to say about you, Miss Y/l/n?” Simon scorned. Y/n flinched. Simon had only ever addressed her in such a way to either tease her or to emphasise his anger. It had been a long while since he had done so for the latter. “It was not a lie, Y/n, I... You could never understand the immense pressure I have been placed under my entire life-”

“- Pressure that significantly decreased with the death of your father,” Y/n argued. Simon acted as though he had a monopoly over her when it came to challenges in life. He could not have been more wrong. “I, on the other hand, am placed under severe pressure and will continue to be, long after my parents pass... That is one of the many things you will never understand.”

“That is not true,” Simon fired back, only for Y/n to continue speaking- this time, with a louder voice.

“We may be the same in one sense, but we are significantly different in another, because you, Simon, are still a man with a title.” Y/n and Simon both shared similar challenges as neither of them were white. However, where Simon inherited certain advantages for being a man, and a Duke, Y/n was only disparaged more. He often forgot that. “You, at the very least, still have the luxury of choice. To choose how you wish to fulfil your future, and whether or not that may include a wife or children.”

Simon lowered his eyes defeatedly. Though he was still angry, there was no denying the shame he felt. 

“I do not. Those choices were made for me the moment I was born a daughter and not a son. So do not act as though you are in a position to empathise with me,” Y/n said. “Especially when you have been the least bit empathetic after I came all the way here, just to confirm the truth about you and Miss Bridgerton.”

“I never told you to come to London,” Simon snapped.

“No, you did not,” Y/n retorted, with just as much, if not more, annoyance in her voice. “You did not tell me anything. I had to find out at the same moment as everyone else in England, as though we are strangers.”

Simon flinched as Y/n progressed from speaking loudly to outright shouting. He had always relied on having her sympathy and her support, even when he was in the wrong. Thankfully, they were far from the gala. However, Simon still feared someone had heard her reprimanding him.

“You claim you are different, now that you are a Duke, but you are the same as you have always been,” Y/n continued. She knew how he had always been. Better than anyone, let alone Miss Bridgerton, that was for sure. “You are still rigid and arrogant. You are still a coward who will never allow himself to feel any kind of joy. And you are still revolving your every decision in life around a man you claim to despise.”

“You do not know a thing,” he whispered, which only confirmed to Y/n that he was scared. He was intimidated. For as long as they had known one another, Y/n rarely confronted his relationship with his father.

“I have watched you go from living only to please him to living only to spite him, even if it means hurting the people who actually care for you,” she cried. She had no more anger within her. Not any more. She had only sadness. “Did it ever occur to you how much it hurt when you rejected me?”

“That was never my intention,” Simon said regretfully. 

It was the truth, though Simon had begun to realise that his wrath against his father blinded him from what he cared about more: her happiness. 

“Peach,” he whispered, inching towards Y/n as he lifted his hand and held the left side of her face. “Please, believe me, I never meant to hurt you.”

Their eyes locked for what felt like an eternity. It had been so long since they had shared a moment like that. An intimate moment shared between no one but them. Where Simon was not the stoic and emotionally detached Duke of Hastings. He was Simon. Dare she say, her Simon.

Despite that, Y/n was the first to turn away. She wanted to indulge. To take advantage of the opportunity to reconcile with him. To enjoy how vulnerable he was, after months of distance. 

But she couldn’t. 

Not when there were still questions burning in her mind. She could not rest until they were dealt with. After all, she was her mother’s child.

“Then what about Miss Bridgerton?” Y/n’s expression remained stagnant, but she could not keep hands from trembling. Simon winced at the mention of Daphne. “You... courting her after rejecting me... You cannot possibly tell me you did not intend to hurt me when you did that.”

Simon opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He had no response to what she had said because there was no justification for what he had done. All he could do was curse quietly to himself for taking so long to realise how foolish he had been.

“I had always expected this to happen,” Y/n began, sniffling as she tried to compose herself enough to explain herself. Simon remained quiet and decided he would until she finished. He figured he owed her as much. “I always knew I would be turned away for someone like Daphne Bridgerton.”

It had been the subject of many of her mother’s lessons. Before she was introduced to society, her mother made it a point to prepare her for rejection. To not hold out hope for any man, until a marriage proposal was made. 

Simon had been Y/n’s only exception to that rule. 

“It’s happened to me my whole life,” Y/n laughed bitterly, as she recalled all the times she had lost to a woman of fairer skin than her. All the times she wept to her Aunt Philippa and to Simon. “I always expected this would happen. But I never expected this would happen with you.”

Simon’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched Y/n struggle to stifle her cries in between her sentences. He had watched her sit in this sorrow many times, just as she had done for him, for this was a pain she shared. But this time was different. This time he was the one responsible. 

He didn’t know pain, so heart-wrenching, was possible. But watching her cry and knowing he could do nothing to fix it. That pain had never felt more real.

“I do not blame you, Simon,” Y/n whimpered, which only made him hurt more. He wanted her to be angry. To berate him some more. It was the least of what he deserved for causing her such sorrow. “She is the ‘Diamond of the Season’ after all, and... I am just me.”

Y/n hated the pity party she was throwing for herself, but she could not help what she felt. After a life of being classed second to white women, who could blame her for internalising this? 

He was dying to say something. To tell Y/n that she had it all wrong. He wanted to reveal that his courtship of Daphne was all a ruse. That he could never bring himself to entertain the idea of marrying anyone but her. But his fear of only making things worse left him paralysed. 

“You have made it abundantly clear that I was a fool forever waiting around for you,” she said to Simon. Unfortunately for him, she had taken his lack of response as confirmation that what she had concluded of the situation was accurate. “I will not make that mistake again.”

“Peach-”

“Goodbye, Simon,” Y/n blurted as she turned away hastily. 

Left in too much shock to reach out and stop her, Simon stood, dumbfounded, and watched as the woman he loved walked away from him and back to the gala. Looking back, he wished he had called out to her. Simon wished he had run after her. But he did not.

When Y/n reached the courtyard where the gala was being held, she couldn’t help the wave of disappointment that rushed over when she realised Simon let her go. This assured her that she was right to leave him, but it did not alleviate the pain in doing so. 

She made her way through the crowd and searched for her aunt. As she did, she felt her cheeks burn and her pace of breath quicken. She had gone through all the effort of coming to London just for what she feared most to be the reality. 

“There you are, my dear!”

Y/n turned around and saw her Aunt approaching her. Philippa smiled brightly as she walked towards her niece. However, when she realised that Y/n’s enthusiasm fell short of matching hers by a significant margin, her smile began to fade.

“Where is Simon?” She inquired, her voice lowered to not draw attention to their conversation. From Y/n expression, Philippa inferred that was the last thing she wanted.

Y/n’s lip quivered as she tried desperately to answer her aunt’s question. When she failed to do so, she hung her head- too embarrassed to face her aunt. Philippa frowned. A line appeared between her brows as she reached out to her distraught niece.

Though she was dying to know, the details of Simon and Y/n’s conversation were the least of her concerns. All she cared for was her niece and helping her in any way she needed. 

“I will call for our carriage,” she whispered, before guiding Y/n out of the courtyard. 

Once their carriage arrived, Philippa sat opposite her niece and watched worriedly as she refused to make eye contact, let alone speak.

“Is there anything I can do?”

Y/n took a long moment to respond. She stared at her gloved hands as she thought about what to do next. She regretted all the proposals she had turned down, and all the ways she put her life on hold for Simon. She felt ashamed that she had allowed herself to be in the situation she was in. 

Then she realised the only thing she could do to fix it.

“May you organise a carriage to take me home tomorrow?” Y/n asked. Her aunt’s eyes widened. Returning home to face her mother was the last thing Philippa expected Y/n to want to do. 

She watched her niece closely, trying to figure out what her plan moving forward was. Y/n finally looked up and met her aunt’s gaze. To Philippa’s surprise, her niece had a prominent sense of confidence in her expression. 

“Why, my dear?” Philippa quizzed, her eyebrows still knitted in confusion as well as fear. The way her niece was suddenly overcome with confidence after being on the verge of tears was concerning. She couldn’t imagine it would lead to anything good.

Y/n inhaled sharply, pursing her lips as she did so. She knew her aunt would disagree with what she planned to do. But she also knew that, given the circumstance, Philippa would reluctantly do as she asked. Before she answered, Y/n momentarily glanced down at her hands and turned back to her aunt.

“I have a proposal to accept.”

NEXT PART

[fandom-imagines]

Sweet little darling~

Fandom: House of Wax (2005)

Pairing: Bo Sinclair X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Canon typical violence, domestic abuse (abusive relationship; not Bo) Kind of out-of-character Bo, depends on how you headcanon him for liking someone! Also not proofread yet.

Words: 2.55k 

Summary: Kindness can get you killed, but it can also get you out of a sticky situation.

Part Two!

To anybody that saw their relationship, it was evident that the feeling wasn’t mutual. Perhaps it once had been, but it no longer was, and for good reason.

“You fucking bitch!” The scream echoed throughout the building, one body looming over a small, cowering young woman.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, doing her best to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall.  “Please don’t hurt m-“ her pleas were cut short as a tight hand grasped her arm and tugged her onto her feet, a harsh slap hitting her cheek shortly afterwards.

“Please don’t hurt me,” he cruelly laughed, mimicking her frightened and desperate tone. “How pathetic.”

“I’m sorry,”

With one final laugh, her boyfriend tossed her to the ground.

*

Laughter filled the truck the group of friends were currently seated in, music blaring through the speakers of a radio one of them had brought but their drunk selves were unable to remember who.

Four of the friends engaged in conversation about anything their clouded minds could think of, whilst the final friend lay against the side of the car, desperately avoiding the demanding gaze her boyfriend was giving her and had been giving her the entire night.

It was clear what he wanted.

Eyes fixated on the green of the grass beneath her, Y/N noticed an approaching truck. Choosing not to say anything, she silently waited for somebody else to notice the vehicle.

“Guys,” Lucy, a close friend of Y/N’s boyfriends, called. “Who is that?”

By now the headlights of the truck were focused on the gang who were circled around the campfire, narrowly avoiding Y/N’s figure.

“James, do something?” Y/N winced as she watched another of the girls grasp onto her boyfriends muscular arm, her blonde hair rubbing against his bare chest.

“Can we help you?” He yelled over the sound of the roaring engine, their music having been paused the second they had notice the driver. “Look dude, this isn’t funny. Just fuck off!”

James’s final sentence was one that made his girlfriend cringe, body remembering the way he had hurt her the night before using that exact same tone; it almost made her cry.

Deciding to stop him before this escalated any further, Y/N made her way towards James before placing a hand on his chest to signal him to back down. This seemed to only anger him further, something that was clear by the way his hands balled into fists. Nobody noticed, except one other person.

“Leave it,” she whispered into his ear, hand dropping from his body to hopefully ease his anger.

James’s hand reach out to her, grabbing his own with a bruising force and tugging her into him as he leaned down to her ear, ignoring the whistles from his friends who assumed he was saying something sexual.

“Just you wait till I get you alone,” James snarled in her ear, unaware of the way an unknown man glared at him before driving away.

*

“Are you fucking kidding me?” James spat, smashing his hand against the cars hood. “It’s busted, the fan belt is fucked.”

His anger seemed to put everybody on edge as they all fell into an uncomfortable silence, something that was uncommon for them.

“You needed a new one anyway,” Y/N mumbled, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Don’t you fucking start,” while his words were directed towards his girlfriend, the others assumed it was aimed at the car in sarcasm; ignorance is bliss after all.

“I can help y’all.” A seemingly kind voice yelled from behind them, having heard the entire conversation. “Sorry, couldn’t help but overhear ya. There’s a town not to far from here. A guy, Bo, runs a gas stop, I’m sure he’d have some.”

Before James could rudely decline this man, Y/N decided to respond. “Do you know how to get there?”

“I’ll drive ya! Truck can only fit two of you though,”

“That’d be great!” She gave the unnamed man a gentle smile, one which he gladly returned. “When are you ready?”

“Now is good,”

She simply nodded, rushing towards the car without giving James a chance to say anything, only leaving him time to follow her, but not before a “fuck sake,” left his lips.

*

“Thank you so much, Lester!” She grinned once again as she hopped from his truck.

“It was no bother, pleasure to meet you Y/N,” he smiled back at her, ruffling her hair slightly before realising the angered look on James’s face. “And you of course,” he nodded awkwardly whilst his hand dropped back to his side. “You two take care now,” and with those words, he drove away.

“Fucking slutting yourself out to weird men, typical,” James spat as he tugged Y/N’s hand so that she was following him into the town, ignoring how she almost tripped in the process.

“I’m sorry, I was just being nice. He was helping us!” She all but yelled, silently praying for him to loosen his grip so that she doesn’t have to use all of her concealer hiding, yet another, mark from him.

“Sure he was. He didn’t just want to get into your pants or anything, huh?”

Ignoring his hurtful words, Y/N began to look around the town.

It was quiet, too quiet. But when she began to think, it was Sunday and there was a Church up ahead at the end of the road which would make more sense, especially considering how early in the morning it was.

“There’s the garage,” James said, dropping her hand to instead point at the small garage not far from them. “Let’s go,”

Y/N followed him, quickly striding to keep up with his large legs.

“There’s nobody here,” she sighed, watching as James just barged his way into the unoccupied garage. “You can’t just go in there! That’s rude.”

“Do I give a fuck? Wait out there for all I care,”

So she chose to do just that.

*

“Oh, hi!” A tall man in a suit gave Y/N a bright grin, accidentally startling her slightly. “You need something?”

“O-oh, hi! Uhm, my boyfriend is in there, I’m sorry I told him not too, he needs a fan belt? I have no idea what one of them is but I-“

The man chuckled, smiling once again as he put his arm around her waist to guide her inside. “Don’t worry, darling. I got ya,” his words were somewhat calming, as though he was offering to protect her from James, despite not knowing what was going on, or perhaps he did.

“You finally grew a p-“James’s words fell short as he turned to see a man, who was significantly taller than him, stood beside his girlfriend. “Hello?”

“Hi, names Bo,” Bo’s tone was a lot blunter than the charming one he had been using previously. “You need something?” He repeated his previous words, instead this time to James and less kind. “You are in my garage after all.”

Despite knowing that Bo could easily subdue him, James chose to get angry anyway. “You got a problem with me? Don’t leave it unlocked if you don’t want people coming in,”

“James leave it,” Y/N gently pushed herself between Bo and James as James began to try get into his face. “Just ask him for what you need and let’s go.”

“Fine, we need a fan belt. Fifteen inch.”

“I might be able to do that, but you’ve already had a look so let me know what I’ve got,” Bo smirked at the angered expression on the mans face at his words.

So maybe he did have a problem with James, a problem neither of the couple knew of.

“Not a fifteen,”

“Then they’re back at the house,”

“The house? Why would they be there?”

“Deliveries are delivered there, easier for everyone really.”

Y/N watched as the two men interacted, Bo incredibly calm whilst James was boiling with anger. Part of her was scared of how he would react, his threat about ‘waiting till they’re alone’ floating around in her mind, yet some strange part of her felt safe knowing that Bo was there. Perhaps it was the fact that he could fight him with ease, or maybe that James would, most likely, never harm her in front of another person.

“Let’s just go,” She pleaded, desperation swimming in her Y/E/C orbs.

“No, I’ll stay, you go.” James seemed pleased with this idea, smirking at the way his girlfriends body tensed; he enjoyed the fear he caused her.

“That’s fine with me,” Bo chimed in, offering Y/N a smile. “That fine with you?”

“Yeah, yeah that’s fine.”

“Let me just lock up,” Bo said, leading the visitors out into the street, much to James’s dismay, before locking up. “Let’s go then.” He gave James one last sarcastic smile before leading Y/N away from him.

*

“Do you live with anyone here?”

Y/N and Bo had been talking for a while now, having chosen to take a slow walk instead. He was nice, to her anyway. She felt as though he understood her, despite not knowing a thing about her.

“Nah, I live with my brother,” Came his response, winking at the girl as he ran a hand through his dark hair, enjoying the way she blushed under his gaze.

She knew it was wrong, finding him both attractive and sweet. But he was both of those, and James was neither, not to her at least. Maybe it was because he was the first person to be this kind to her in a long time, or maybe it was the feeling of safety she felt around him, but she was enjoying his company more than anyone else’s.

“Oh, that must be fun!”

Bo chuckled at her enthusiasm, “I suppose so,”

The pair walked up to Bo’s home, guilt filling the girl’s chest each time she let Bo’s hand brush against her own. She simply enjoyed the sparks flying throughout her body, forgetting about the pain she would receive later as a punishment.

“We’re here,” Bo’s words pulled Y/N from her thoughts, almost tripping over a rock as she came back to reality. “Easy there,” Bo shook his head whilst smiling as he caught her, sneakily pulling her body into his own without her realising it was not an accident.

“Thank you,” she blushed, unknowingly allowing herself to melt into his touch, feeling the need to savour every kind and gentle touch she was getting from a stranger.

“No problem, darling,” he smirked, once again enjoying the way she blushed at the nickname he had given her.

Hand still around her waist, Bo guided her into his home.

“Take a seat, I need to get out of this horrible suit.” His words caused a giggle to leave Y/N’s lips, her head nodding as she took a seat on the faded leather couch, watching Bo leave the room to go change.

*

“Sorry to keep ya waiting, Darl.” Bo’s voice startled Y/N, her body jolting in a way that made Bo feel slightly guilty, something that he rarely felt. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it’s okay. It was my fault,” she offered him a weak smile, twiddling with the hem of her short-sleeved t-shirt when he seated himself beside her.

“That looks painful,” his hands cautiously reached out to gently take her hand, fingers lightly running across a hand-shaped bruise that had began to form. “You shouldn’t let him treat you like that,” Bo’s spare hand reached up to her face, hand cupping one cheek which made her flinch, Bo frowning at the action.

“S-sorry,”  

Bo had no idea why she was apolgoising to him. It had been him that touched her, but it all made sense in his head.

“Does he hit you?”

Her lack of response was enough for him to understand to full situation.

“I’m sorry,”

“Don’t be, darling.” He sighed, hand moving from her cheek to her neck to pull her head towards his lips, planting a soft kiss on it, something that made her almost cry along with his sweet words.

“Thank you,” her own arms wrapped around his torso, grateful to be given affection without it feeling forced.

*

“You took your time,” James spat as Y/N walked towards him, Bo having quickly headed to the gas station for something that she couldn’t remember the name of. “Were you shagging him or something?”

“N-no,” the nervousness in her voice was something that caused Y/N to cringe, knowing that he wouldn’t believe her.

“Oh, you were.” James’s hands balled into fists as he stalked towards her, ready to attack.

“No, I had to get changed,” Bo’s deep voice startled both of them, James’s fists unclenching immediately.

“Sorry, man. Can’t be too careful with girls like these, can you?” He laughed, trying to play off his previous words as a joke.

“Can’t be too careful with men like yourself either, can you?” Bo’s words seemed innocent, despite having a deeper meaning.

“What?” James snapped. “You told him about us?” He yelled as he turned to face Y/N whose breathing was becoming laboured in fear. “You little bitch!”

As James began to march towards his girlfriend, a tight hand grabbed his fist, spinning him to face the holder only to not be able to see because of a hard punch hitting him in the jaw. The only thing he could hear was a gasp from Y/N and the ringing in his ears as he dropped to the ground.

“Not so tough now, are you?” Bo sniggered. “You can hit a woman but the second a man touches you, you’re out cold. Pathetic,”

Y/N stood frozen to the spot, unsure of how to react.

She hadn’t expected Bo to attack him. In fact, she hadn’t expected him to do anything at all to him or about her situation. Those who knew didn’t care, so why would a stranger?

“You fucking dick!” James screamed, climbing back onto his feet to throw a punch at Bo, one that he barely reacted to.

“Leave him alone!” Y/N yelled, darting between James and Bo, shoving James away from him to the best of her ability.

“You fucking whore. I should’ve known this is what would’ve happened. Actually, I guess I already did.” His words were fast, but his fist moved towards her faster.

Bo was quicker however, grabbing the man’s fist and twisting it behind his back before kicking his legs from beneath him, effectively knocking him to the ground again.

“Vincent!” Bo yelled. “Got one for ya,” both Y/N and James were confused at his words, fear filling them both as a masked man came running out into the street, knife in hand.

Bo took Y/N’s hand, pushing her behind his hand so that she couldn’t see the horror that Vincent was committing to her boyfriend in full glory.

“Y-you killed him…” Her words were quiet, watching from one eye as the man, who she assumed to be Vincent, tugged away the lifeless body. “Are you going to kill me too?”

“You’re safe here, Y/N.” Bo’s words were quiet, praying nobody else heard his true self speaking. “I’ll take care of you. Nobody will ever hurt you again, my sweet little darling.”  

[excujeemi]

D R U N K [ Ray X Reader ]

Age: around 18 Genre: Fluff Warnings: UHhh, adult jokes (??) and mentions of alcohol

Simple, you know, you were graduating high school and moving on to college of course there'd be parties. And there's only three words to describe this party you're in? Wild as fuck. Man, some were playing beer pong, some were making out, it was just so chaotic you don't even remember as to why you were here in the first place... Oh yeah, your parents forced you to get some human interaction every once in a while.

You thought this party would be very shit and unenjoyable but look at you now, everyone around you was cheering you on to chug , c h u g  , c  h  u  g . And chug you did.

You were already dizzy but you know this is that moment, that sweet moment of youth (??) perhaps and there's the adrenaline and the feeling that you're on top of the world, it's like you can just do anything you want for example, peeing in your annoying neighbor's backyard but let's not take that idea personally-

You were just about to open another bottle of alcohol but then someone stopped you, a hand gripped on your wrist which surprised you, you looked up to see whose hand it was and saw Ray frowning. That's typical, when is he not frowning anyway.

Well, Ray is one of your closest friends, your parents are also both close to each other so it just makes sense. And Ray being the most trusted person of your mother, she asked him if he could pick you up since it was getting kinda late. You know if they were just gonna end up worrying about you then why even force you to get some of that, "human interaction", they're just  exaggerating.

"Oh, hey Ray my beloved , what're you doing here?" You smugly asked as he helped you stand up but your feet kept on tripping and so you slipped, with your hand on Ray's shoulder causing him to fall on top of you while the people surrounding you both were teasing you, you felt Ray's hot breath hitting your neck while his large hands were supporting your back to protect you from directly falling. The close space between the both of you caused Ray's face to turn into a tomato, red flushed cheeks, wide eyes, he lowkey wished you both could stay like that for more time. "You idiot, get up already its almost 4am." He says as he quickly got up and tried to take your heavy ass up. "wAiT, mY bAg and mY phOne, And mY StufF are-" "Shh, shh. I got them all now shut it." He says as he shows you your bag from his other hand, he opened the door with his foot and kicked it close. "Hey Ray, aren't you getting to close, haah~?" You seductively whispered in his ear making him blush for the second time. He rolled his eyes, 'Patience, you must stay calm.' He thinks to himself. "Haah~?" Okay, he decided that was it. "Why don't you walk by yourself then, the parking lot is still quite far from where we are, walk by yourself good luck tripping over everything." He lets go of you while you had trouble tryna regain your posture. "I can walk, don't-d-don't you underestimate the power of this wild creature." You pointed to yourself while making a karate pose.

Ray was annoyed, his eye was twitching and he really did want to abandon you there. "Okay, I'll lead the way then." After a few seconds, everything was going well, he takes a few glances back at you to see how you're doing because apparently if you trip and die he'd be blamed  by your parents. Then he saw you weren't by his side, well obviously not because you kept on slowing down but you really were out of his sight and this worried him by a lot. 'If only Emma and Norman were here to back me up with this dumbass' But for real, he was worried, it had only been a few seconds--what if someone took you or something. He ran a few steps back and looked everywhere and there you fucking were, talking to a celebrity cardboard cutout. "Oh my fucking gosh, this dimwit. Y/n!" He sighs as he massaged his temples. He ran to you and pulled you by your arm. "Ugh, stOp, I'm still flirting with this hot man." You whined as you tried to wriggle your arm out of Ray's hand. He didn't know whether to leave you alone or laugh at you there. "You blockhead, that's...that's a Justin Bieber cardboard cut out for fuck's sake..." Ray was about to explode at this point, you were making him want to combust. "Please, dOn't take me way, I have no flirt with!" "I'll flirt with you all you want just--let's go already this is so embarrassing!" He said to improvise but your drunk self actually believed that he'd flirt with you. "Really?" You asked and he just nods while closing his eyes, annoyed. "YaaaY~, Ray my beloved will flirt with me, I'm the happiest person in the worlll ever." To be honest, Ray would love to hear those words while you're not drunk but he can't help but blush again remembering what Norman used to say, "Drunk people always say what they truly think." He shook his head and as soon as you arrived at the parking lot, he pushed you gently into the backseat. Thankfully, you spent that whole time without saying anything, you were literally just staring at the car's ceiling like a dead person which was creepy. He arrived at your house and it seemed that everyone was asleep so he had to use the spare keys he has. He then opened the door, carrying you bridal style and the hallways were quite narrow so he felt sorry whenever your head hit some walls or table. 💀 lmfao. He carefully placed you on your bed, while you were almost sound asleep. Boy, times like this remind him of deep in love he is with you. You know maybe he should just confess of something.

He smiled and tucked in some hair behind you ear. Very wholesome situation, well until you tugged his arm for him to come closer so he thought you had something to say, when he finally got close you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly which shocked him by a lot. It was comfortable to be in your arms, if only he could stay there a bit more longer. :'). "H-Hey what are you trying to do? Let go of me, Y/n." He softly whispered, his hot breath hitting you once again but a bit more closer which caused you to hug him tighter. "Dream on." And since you really wouldn't let go of him, and he didn't have enough will to force himself out of your hold, he decided to just stay there. It was 4am and your warmth was more than enough to make him sleepy. Next morning: You woke up with someone in your arms, it was very comfortable. 'Oh it's just Ray..wait what--RAY??' "HOLY SHIT RAY! WAKE UP! WAKE-" His hand covered your mouth as his half-asleep eyes stared at you. "What are you so loud in the morning for?" Man, his morning voice could kill. Shaking your head quickly to shoo away the simp thoughts, you built up the courage to ask him this one cliche question. "Di-Did we perhaps, you know? Do the thing?" Of course Ray was not dumb but he can be an ass. Smirking, he asks with an innocent tone, "What do you mean by thing ?" "Oh my--you know what I mean! Stop acting dumb-" "Oh you mean sex?" He stared at you for a while, keeping that smirk of his on his face while seeing you so flustered and red. "Why do you have to be so blunt, this is why I hate you.." You said as you buried your face into one of your pillows. "Chill, woman. We didn't do that. You did do something dumb last night though." He chuckles as he removes the pillow away from your red face. "Please kill me--what is it?" "Well you just flirted with a Justin Bieber Cutout, nothing new." "I really did that?" You cried as you started mentally smashing your head on a rock. "Yes, yes you did." As soon was those words of confirmation came out of his mouth, you started getting flashbacks again, "Dude, I'll never be drunk again." "That's a good idea. But if you never get drunk again you might never hug me again the way you did last night." 'The way I did last night?...' What did he even mean by that... "What do you mean?" "Want a demonstration?" ..... THE END lol bye this was so bad ahvdusvud - Follow me on wattpad - @excujeemi Join my discord server !! https://discord.gg/wXSuKBXMXt

[iron-red-drench]

okay. so as a warning before i start, this is going to be my typical rambling but even worse cause im literally in bed about to go to sleep after this. enjoy ?

so vulnerability is i think one of the fucking hardest things for anyone to allow themselves to. be ? feel ? whatever. the definition for my purposes btw is like you know. state of being emotionally vulnerable. revealing yourself to someone else. being honest. whatever.

no matter how you’re raised i think its so heavily ingrained in our heads that it’s a Weakness right? like being raised as a man is going to give you that. “oh im too tough to cry hmph” thing. that whole “the masculine urge to not tell anyone a got damn thing”. literally men i think are allowed to be angry but not anything else ? and usually it’s not even a conscious thing thats just kinda whats expected and you go through with that. guy (usually straight) friendships are usually gonna be built on this. idea of honestly idk. keeping everyone at an arms length? they adopt this secrecy mode and Everything is on a Need to Know basis. it’s lonely and it’s jarring to hear about like i’ve said because there’s just. no deeper platonic connection here really. you make acquaintances and nothing more

being raised as a woman is like slightly different but showing emotion is still. looked down upon ? but it feels like in another way. like for men its like if they cry its all just “man up” but if a woman cries people just. look down on you. even if they dont say anything you get this pitying look that makes you want to rip your skin off and so usually women also adopt adverse reactions to the act of Being vulnerable. but less of a. “oh doing this is awkward” but more “showing x emotion is a shameful act”

but what do we do without it ? society conditions us into these hardened shells and concrete walls yet humans are Social Creatures. we need intimacy. and as fucking terrible as it feels, to get to a place of connection you must reveal the soft spot of your belly and trust them not to strike.

genuinely as much as it terrifies me to be honest with people, i try so. so hard to be. i know i fail i know i fail all the time because lying and turning away from people is so fucking easy but it’s also so lonely. and i won’t lie its a million times worse to imagine a world where the closest friend i had wouldnt grieve my absence than to be vulnerable.

it scares me to be hurt but i accept that i will be. i accept that its going to hurt every time i lose a friend. i accept the nights i stay up overanalyzing every interaction ive had in fear of rejection. i accept how difficult it’ll be, because of how equally beautiful it’ll be.

i have a lot to say about vulnerability actually but maybe another day

[papers4me]

Fruits Basket Manga Review , ch 110

The writer doesn’t need to rush to akito (antagonist) & give us quick background exposition & escalate her mentality to the exploding moment, simply cuz tohru (the protagonist) isn’t emotionally in her most vulnerable moment yet. Tohru’s issues will be presented deeper  with each pov chapter she’ll have. So what should the writer do now?

This is a connected plot, meaning the emotions belonging to the previous chapter are still lingering & needs to be dealt with. There is no stupid laughing & cooking or even dumber momentarily amnesia. Nope! There is this:

-The Art of Writing Slow-Burns: (Lingering Emotions:)

Last time kyo hugged tohru thro the sheets. sth he wouldn’t do if it weren’t for the heartbreaking moment of tohru’s tears & the reason behind them. Why wouldn he do it? cuz he believes he’s the reason of her pain & is setting his mind on leaving her & being imprisoned as a punishment. He  wouldn’t do it cuz he loves her but he did it cuz he loves her. why? cuz love is illogical. Kyo’s heart moved him effortlessly to embrace her & “ his tenderness covered her pain” as the writer put it at the end of ch109.

Last time tohru hugged kyo thro the sheets, sth she wouldn’t do if it weren’t for the comfort of his warmth enveloping her loneliness & providing safety & a home. A home can a person. Why wouldn she do it? cuz Tohru is someone who hides pain behind a smile, someone who thinks she’s ugly & unlovable cuz she’s grieving still after all this time. She’s thinks she’s a burden. But here she confessed to kyo unprompted or advised by anybody. He only asked a fleeting question. but tohru cant hide who she is friom him anymore. Still, he accepted her & tenderly held her thro the sheets & she threw her body at him, she initiated the hug.

The sheet hig is the biggest emotional moment between kyo/tohru yet. It altered how they feel for each other cuz in that moment tohru’s mask fell & kyo was the most honest with himself emotionally. That’s not sth you move from with the stupid ED song. They both try to carry out normally afterwards cuz they live together after all. The slightest touch brings..... sexual tension!!!  it was so bad poor yuki left the house running!!!!!!!!

The writer cleverly escalates the sexual tension as they awkwardly try to find a talking topic, then dissolves it a bit when kto asks if tohru wants to go out together & where, then escalates it when tohru suggests buying eggs cuz she’s awkward, then dissolves it when kyo grumpily agrees but this is just grocery shopping” not a fun going out”, the escalates it when tohru said she’s happy for just bring together with him regardless of the location & kyo looses it! sexual tension explodes!

The target of the slow-burn isn’t the characters... the target is the audience! the writer plays with their emotions & cleverly puts the audience in a place where they desperately want these two idiots together but still remember why they aren’t! that’s very important. Having the readers cheer for a romantic relationship includes the readers understanding the obstacles ahead & how big they are & still cheer. If the obstacles are meh~ the readers will find the couple unrealistic, if the obstacles are so big & the couples emotions aren't buildup properly, then the couple themselves will feel meh~. Glad kyoru survived such writing mistakes both manga & anime ( anime hurt their characters more than their relationship).

-Yuki wants to move on from the unofficial son third wheeling his mom & her man:

The writer jokes abt yuki admitting he felt as a son watching his mon & her bf. I love tha this joke becuz it cleverly addresses the following points:

it is cleverly weaved in with the kyoru incident from last chapter. Sth happen & yuki doesn't know what is & doesn't want to! Yuki represents the audience I talked abt in the slow-burn point above. He is us. He’ll cheer for them to be together & will be so frustrated when they can’t. It adds to yuki confronting kyo at the climax!!! You see in the anime kyo/yuki stopped interacting much in se03. Then tada~~ big fight when it’s a must! & can’t be escaped... Here we still have kyo/yuki moments despite each boy moving away from his issues being the fault of the other. Basically better writing.....

The writer cleverly used this to address that yuki still feels like tohru’s son sometimes despite being more independent now, which is natural as you cant switch ur feelings with a button. But also the writer doesnt stay in this moment long & use it to build the next moment.. yuki/Aya , yuki/machi & aya/mine.... sadly all there dynamics are shortened in the anime like kyoru’s.

-I don’t think yuki/Aya  moment suffered much from the cuts, the entire school parents meeting ep us enough to reconcile the brothers. Aya defended yuki that day & so did yuki. He completely accepted him & stood up to him in front of the mom.

- More aya/mine would’ve been good to see & I would’ve preferred it to yuki/motoko moments in the anime that served nothing. but aya/mine too are stand alone story. They’re the most alike couple in a healthy way. Aya is the guy who protected his woman the most. simply cuz he’s the snake. snakes are secretive. he kept her to himself, even from yuki!!! impressive.

- What I lament from the cut of this mini yuki adventure?

1- This: ( yuki’s facial expressions) This is sth the anime fears, either cuz (a) pretty yuki is 100% pretty all the time, so no expressiveness cuz it leads to showing eyebrows & hiding them under layers of hair is the A.B.C of pretty characters... (b) Yuki in the anime is a prince 98% of the time, except with kyo (they got rid of this in se03 & give them one honest/ugly moment together) & with kakeru (one tiny moment in se03 in match’’s focus ep & then quickly back to prince yuki!)..., ugh!!!!!! I hate how yuki is prince thro & thro in the anime!!that’s why they couldn’t get rid of any motoko content!!! he’s a prince there... heck! school girls float after him the graduation ceremony... what’s up with that!! lol.

2-. This: ( machi with the toy that tohru/kisa/kagura/momiji & kiro like! so cute!!! also, foreshadowing yuki’s future chosen extended family! (his bro & his wife), (yuki & his wife) & best friend/his brother in law! Also, yuki is so himself! no glitters, no bubbles & no pretending anger! <3

Side Notes:

The lovely @mizzraynelly​ made notice kto’s speech in ch109 abt not vising his mom’s grave! Even tho it’s such a minor line, it’s one of the biggest cuts that foreshadow the accumulation of kyo’s guilt towards his mom. Kyo’s thing is guilt towards ppl he loves & fear of hurting them, by keeping this feeling alive in readers’ minds, the writer is making sure that the climax will hurt like sharp knives cuz the readers are on the same wave liength as kyo!!! epic buildup consists of tiny subtle pieces!

 Luckily, kyoru as a ship felt so strong in both manga & anime despite the later cutting half of their moments. Why? cuz the chosen cuts didnt affects the romantic relationship...no... the cuts affects the characters’ own personal struggle... most precisely tohru. Kyo’s own character struggles had better luck in the anime despite the cuts, simply cuz (a) was drawn with very expressive emotions & the anime team lingered on them in his scenes. (b) His character design as a whole was very expressive, the anime team didnt give him constant wide eyes like tohru & didn’t fear expr4essivness will affect for his “beauty “ like yuki. (c) kyo was given one ep per season for his issues which altho not much but way better than tohru (d) most important: kyo’s issues are very universal & very relatable” feeling guilt, mistakes & choosing wrong. That’s sth we all do!!! Tohru’s thing is grieve: this is very personal & most ppl experience it differently. 

I love kyo’s oufit!!! we have a hint of this moment in se03, ep 10 when yuki was fighting kyo... but they made yuki see them shopping as opposed of him seeing them being sexually charged!

I’m so mad this kyoru moment is cut!!!!!! tohru as a woman with pending sexual emotions is so refreshing & underrated in the trope of “ girl saves guys”. Also, it contradicts the pure mom image that’s been suffocating her since se01 ep 1!!!!! oh now i know why it’s cut... That’s why! momma tohru is so pure for such things & only when it’s the last two eps, then will allow her to be a woman choosing to live away with her man by her own desire! Why the anime only allow things ti happen when there’s no escape!!! I’ve always felt tohru/kyo is the type of couple to be expressive emotionally & sexually with each other based on seeing that ALL of their romantic interaction involves body language & I’m so happy there’s a canon proof so early before the future glimpse in finale!!!!!! 

I liked the aya-story, but it felt like the typical “ lesson of the day” formula, so I didnt analyze it much, but I enjoyed the brotherly interaction so much!! It had a gold mine of yuki being himself & so nit a prince! Im so happy I saw it! <3.

Every time yuki looked expressive is a happy moment for me!

[xoxo-teddybear]

Oh, The Lies You Tell - Bakugou Katsuki - pt. 2

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: angst, trauma, abuse, betrayal, fluff, slice of life, smut, cursing, manipulation, possible spoilers, physical harm, 18+

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Ep. Warnings: fluff, childhood trauma, cursing, Bakugou kinda OOC, DADZAWA

Summary: More Bakugou x reader interaction! And Y/N’s first time training with the students and showing off her “quirk.” How will the students react?

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9

Once you saw the familiar blonde, you smiled. “.....hey back, cutie.” You said with confidence. Bakugou only blushed at the comment and sucked his teeth as he rolled his eyes.

“Soo...you’re my escort?” You flirtatiously asked. You can’t help it, it’s just your personality. Plus, after years of villainous work, you had to learn how to speak with a calm and seductive voice to get your way with your victims.

“Yeah, that means I’m stuck with your dumbass for the next few months. So try to keep up and don’t you dare hold me back.” He ferociously said. You just giggled and went to mess with his unbuttoned shirt collar.

“Whatever you say, Fiesty,” as you examined his clothes, you just had to speak up again. “Whattup with the clothes? No tie, no tuck, no....prestigiousness?” Bakugou scoffed at your question.

“Oh yea? Like you’re one to talk. You completely changed your uniform. You realize the girls in UA don’t dress this-“ you cut him off.

“What? Rebellious?”

“I was gonna say hot.”

“That works too.”

“Suits you real well.”

“Oh, I bet it does,” you smirked. During your time throwing spitfire replies to one another, you realized how close both your faces have gotten. You saw ruby eyes, perfect porcelain skin with the perfect amount of tan, soft but fluffy, spiky, blonde hair, and a smirk that copied your own. As Bakugou was too busy admiring your looks, you gently placed two fingers under his chin.....and flicked his head upwards at the sky.

“Hehe...let’s go, Cutie. You gotta show me my dorm, remember? Cant stand here forever staring at me.” You chuckled to yourself.

“I was not doing any of that shitty woman!” Bakugou yelled. As Bakugou did that, Rumor ran right across him making his balance go all outta wack.

“Heh..yeah, sure.” You said as you walked off with Rumor, petting his head. Oh, this is gonna be fun.

——————————————————————————

On the walk to the dorms, you and Bakugou got to know each other quite well. Just the basics though. Favorite music, favorite foods, personality types, likes and dislikes, all that good stuff. You also both shared a little flirtatious banter, not that you minded, however it threw Bakugou off. When the fuck does he ever talk like that? As you both walked up to the entrance you realized something.

“Hey, you never asked me about my quirk. How come?” You asked as you both continued to walk to the doors.

“Don’t need to. I’ll see all I have to see tomorrow during training.” Bakugou said.

“Makes sense.” You replied.

“Of course it does,” He said as he opened the doors to give you a tour. You were in awe. Growing up, you never really had a home before the league. You slept in benches, jail cells, or straight on the ground outside in the rain. But this? Basically luxury to you, but of course you kept up a chill persona.

“This is the common area, kitchens over there, everyone gets their own bathrooms, the showers are that way, and I’ll show you to your dorm,” Bakugou said, giving you the “grand” tour. As you walked up to your room, you saw how already filled it was...but this wasn’t any of your stuff.

“Didn’t realize you were into music like that.” Bakugou said. When you turned to look at your desk, you saw how large it was and how there was a control panel they used at recording studios on it. Set up with it was a microphone that artist used when recording their songs and there was a mini keyboard and acoustic guitar set up on the side. Then it hit you. You had gone over your interest with Mr. Aizawa, guess he filled up the room to make you more comfortable OR to make it seem like you were a normal kid who actually had stuff. In reality, you had nothing but your villain costume (which you demanded to be kept) and Rumor.

“Umm...not really. I just sing a little and enjoy writing little songs. Nothing special really,” you replied to him. “Uh, could you give me a sec? I wanna change out of this uniform and relax a little.” You said to him.

“Yeah, sure. Dinner starts at 6 so be down by then and come meet the rest of the morons.” He said as he backed out the room and walked on to wherever. You began to explore the room. Rumor took comfort on the soft bed, and you looked at the recording area. It was amazing. You strummed the guitar, taking in it’s beautiful sound and dabbled on the keyboard. You then realized.

“Rumor! What am I gonna change in to?! I literally have nothing!” You said as you ran to your closet, astound when you saw the large amount of clothes, along with a little sticky note.

Enjoy the gift, Y/N! Cant wait to have you in class!

- Ms. Midnight

“Midnight, huh? Then these clothes must be hot as fuck!” You excitedly said. Safe to say you put on a little fashion show for yourself and Rumor. As you put on the clothes and made new outfits, you noticed how she had gone for the typical “baddie style.” Lots of ripped jeans, plenty of casual heels, thigh high boots, leather jackets, bomber jackets, crop tops, tube tops, and of course booty shorts. You also noticed the massive amount of jewelry given to you. Plenty of necklaces and anklets. Very pretty.

Once done with your little show, you and Rumor looked at the clock. 5:30.

“I think we should stay in here. Who needs dinner anyways?” Rumor only growled at you. He knew better. You both needed food and you should go down there and make some friends.

“Oh c’mon! We’ve gone days without food before, why not now?” You saw how Rumor gave you this look of ‘because it wasn’t available then’ and you rolled your eyes knowing your friend was right.

“Fineeeeeee,” you reluctantly said as Rumor gave a happy bark and wagged his tail. You changed into some comfortable clothes and went to the common area.

When walking down there, you saw a spikey read head, a tall black haired boy, a girl with long greenish hair, and then you saw Deku, Kaminari, Uraraka, Todoroki, and Bakugou. While they were talking, the red head took notice of yours and Rumor’s presence.

“Oh! Hey L/N! Rumor! Come join us!” How sweet of him to include Rumor. As you both walked towards a single open seat on a solo couch seat, you saw how everyone had their eyes set on you with a smile.

“Umm....hey.” You nervously let out with a small laugh. As you tried to settle, Rumor placed his head on your lap to calm you down and Bakugou took notice of this.

“Would you idiots stop staring at her like that? She’s obviously kinda nervous.” Bakugou said with his head thrown back on the couch. The red head then spoke up to agree.

“Oh right! Sorry about that L/N!” He said kindly.

“No, it’s no trouble. And you guys can quit the formalities and just call me Y/N. I don’t mind!” You sweetly said.

“Alright then, nice to meet you Y/N! I’m Eijirou Kirishima, this is Hanta Sero, and Tsuyu Asui. I’ve heard you already met these guys, and I’ve also heard you got Bakugou as your escort!” Bakugou growled at Kirishima for mentioning that.

“Yeah! He’s kinda.....bratty?” You teased. Bakugou only looked at you with wide angry eyes and a small blush.

“Ha, yeah. Bakubro can be a brute, but when you get to know the guy, you find out he’s just a big ole softie with rough ways.” He joked.

“I AIN’T SOFT SHITTY HAIR!” Bakugou screamed. The group just giggled and watch the interaction go on. You guys talked and laughed and they got to know about you and Rumor a little better. Finally, a girl with a black ponytail came in.

“Hey guys! Dinner’s ready! Oh! And L/N, we made 2 steaks for Rumor. I hope you don’t mind.” She said.

“Oh not at all! Thanks you guys, that was really sweet of you.” Rumor understood what was going on just by the scent in the air and he was excited. As you all walked to the table and took ur seats, everyone got to talking again. Dinner went on and Rumor was enjoying his steaks.

“Man..what a lucky dog. Steak for dinner.” Kirishima spoke. Everyone chuckled and continued on. The girl with the pony tail, who you learned was nicknamed Momo, walked in with a final pot.

“Okay you guys! This is the final dish! Just some Miso soup to peck on. Kaminari, can you go and grab the ladel?” As the blonde walked away, everyone was excited for the dish.

“Sorry guys, the soup is a little too hot. You should wait for it to cool down before digging in,” Momo said apologetically.

“Oh hey, no worries, I have a solution!” You said as you made a tiny little tornado with you air bending and sent it to the pot of soup on the table to cool it down. The massive amount of steam was clearly decreased and everyone thanked you.

“So your quirk is tiny tornadoes?” Bakugou whispered to you as he was the one sitting next to you.

“No, you dummy.” You giggled until you heard a crack. Everyone looked over and saw Kaminari broke the one and only ladel. Everyone booed and sighed at the loss of miso soup and the poor blonde just apologized with a nervous smile.

“It’s fine you guys, we don’t need a ladel. Who wants some miso?” You asked and everyone raised their hands. So, you used your water bending to pick up the soup give some to all your classmates. Everyone was confused but impressed.

“Okay, what the hell is your quirk?” Bakugou asked in confusion.

“You’ll find out soon, Cutie.”

“Whatever you say, Princess.” He replied back.

It was safe to say the new nickname left you in shock with some blush and you noticed everyone stopped eating to look at you both.

“........huh?!” The group simultaneously said with blank and confused faces as Bakugou yelled at them saying they heard nothing.

——————————————————————————

The next day the students met up with Mr. Aizawa wearing any comfortable gym/fighting attire. Instead of meeting at Gym Gamma, the teacher took his students out to the Sports Festival Areana. The students all buzzed with excitement, most only wanting to know the new student’s quirk and fight style.

“Okay, today we’ll be doing sparring matches. We’ve paired you all up based on skill level and experience. One battle at a time. Whoever makes it to the top 3, those students are excused from classes tomorrow. Get warmed up, take your seats, and I’ll call up the first two fighters.” Mr. Aizawa spoke.

The students were ready. Everyone was, but no one was prepared for you. They never saw your fight style, never saw you use your quirk for battle, never even saw you pick a fight. This’ll be interesting.

“Okay bud, since it’s a 1v1, you’re benched.” You spoke to Rumor. He whined at the fact that he wouldn’t be getting any action but nonetheless, listened to his best friend. “Oh don’t give me that sass, why don’t you go talk to Kirishima or Bakugou while I’m in battle. Fair?” Rumor huffed at you, but you took it as compliance.

“Hey, Princess.”

You turned to who called you and saw Bakugou and what appeared to be his little posse following him. It consisted of Kirishima, Sero, Kaminari, and Mina.

“Oh hey guys. What’s up?” You asked.

“We’re all pumped up to see your quirk! Those tricks you did during dinner last night had us all coming up with ideas on what it could be.” Mina squealed. “I guessed substance manipulation.”

“Telekinesis,” Kirishima said

“Weather powers,” Sero guessed

“Food control!” Kaminari answered. Oh what a piece of work that one is. Everyone looked at the fool with raised brows.

“Heh...guess not.” The goofy boy said with a scratch to his head. You all laughed and you looked towards Bakugou waiting for him to answer.

“Well..what’s your guess, Cutie?” You looked towards Bakugou as he just stared at you.

“Elements,” he said calmly. That shocked you. Who knew someone was gonna guess. Well, he was still wrong considering it wasn’t really a quirk but yeah.

“Just a guess. I’ll figure it out once I see you fight.” He added on.

“Oh yeah! Mr. Aizawa pairs us up based on skill level and experience! We’ll get to know more about how you fight based on your partner.” Mina said.

As the group continued talking, Mr. Aizawa finally came to speak up.

“Okay, listen up. I’m sure you’re all curious as to what L/N is able to do, so our first match we’ll be L/N vs. Todoroki.” Everyone had their jaws drop. Shoto Todoroki?!? He was one of the top students in the class in both intelligence and physical skill. He is an excellent fight with a powerful quirk. How the hell are you supposed to win. You only smirked and walked up to the fighting area. As you walked, a pair of red eyes followed you.

‘What the hell can this chick do?’ Bakugou thought to himself.

As you and Todoroki met in the middle facing each other with Mr. Aizawa in between you both, he spoke up.

“Okay, here are the rules......there are none. The match will begin when you hear the buzzer go off. You’ll hear 3 beeps then a ring, then you can spar. You can use your quirk at any level, do whatever you may please, do whatever it takes to win. The match stops when one of you falls off the square or is knocked out and unable to continue fighting. Understand?” He said while looking at both of you and speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. You both nodded your heads but Mr. Aizawa looked at you with a more stern stare.

“Do you understand, Y/N?” He asked once more. You nodded your head and waited for him to start the match. He walked off the field and went to sit with the class. They all stared in anticipation. Bakugou focused his eyes on you.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Ring!

At the first second, Todoroki used his left side to throw some fire your way. At the sight of the burning flames you only smirked and extended your hand. Everyone watched you do, what they thought was, nothing. They only saw you stand there.

“Y/N DO SOMETHING!” Bakugou screamed in fear of you getting hurt.

When the flames came close enough, you used your fire bending to move them around your body and attack Todoroki. The boy had a quick reaction and sent an ice wall towards you. Perfect. You ran to the ice coming your way and turned it into water, which you used to push back Todoroki, closer to the edge. You sent fire his way and he ran at you, dodging it and attempting to strike you. You flipped away from him. Everyone saw how acrobatic you were. When he came closer once more to punch you, you turned to you side and struck his right shoulder, paralyzing his arm.

Todoroki screamed in shock and pain as he realized he couldn’t feel his arm. He sent more fire to you, in which you used your air bending to put the flames out. You used your earth bending to lift the area that Todoroki was standing on into the air, as he flew through the air, you blasted fire from your feet to get up in the air and blasted him with a gust of wind that knocked him out the area of the square. When he fell to the ground, he hit the field instead of the square, meaning he lost. You fell closer to the concrete but used your fire to slow down before you could crash. Once you landed you looked around for Aizawa.

Beeeeeeeepppppp!!

“That’s the match. L/N wins.” You looked around and everyone still sat in shock. Nobody even clapped. They just looked so....impressed? Kaminari was in the middle of petting Rumor and when he stopped, Rumor noticed the match was over and saw you standing. He howled to cheer for you as everyone ran down to say something. As the crowd came up to you, you were hit with compliments.

As the class continued to hype you up, you saw how Bakugou still just stared at you. You walked over to him.

“Impressed?” You asked.

“......you’re good.” Bakugou still said in slight shock. You only laughed at his answer. You knew he thought more, but you weren’t gonna push him. Every one saw Todoroki get up and limp towards you.

“L/N....that was a great fight. You’re incredibly skilled.” He complimented.

“Thank you Todoroki. And please, I told you to call me Y/N.” You kindly said

“Right, of course...ah.” He hissed in pain. You felt bad for how hard you went on him.

“Here..let me just,” you took the moisture in the air and took water out of it. You used it to heal up Todoroki’s injuries and soothe his pain. “Feel better?”

“Very much, yes. Thank you.” He said.

“No problem, but your arm is a different story. I temporarily paralyzed it with my dim mak fighting style. It’ll take some minutes for it to come back fully.” You explained.

“Okay. That was really impressive. I had no idea there was a fighter like you.” He said once again.

“Whats dim mak?” Kirishima asked.

“It’s the fighting style I use. It’s attacks a person’s pressure points with quick and sharp jabs. It paralyzes a person or just a limb for a good hour depending on how hard I hit.” You replied.

“Pressure points?” Kaminari asked.

“They’re the parts in your body where you’re sensitive and can be detained when they’re hit. With that, it means I know the human body like the back of my hand. Thanks to that I’ve come up with a skill called Chi Blocking.” You explained.

“What’s that?” Mina asked.

“Something you’ll all find out about the next time Y/N fights. Until then, let’s have Todoroki get to recovery girl and let’s continue the matches.” Aizawa said. As everyone went to their seat and Aizawa called up Iida and Aoyama, Bakugou asked you a few questions.

“What the fuck was that?!” He asked.

“What?” You giggled.

“The fucking fire, and the wind, and you moved rocks and you turned his ice into water!!” He spasmed out.

“Uh huh...” you said with a smile and raised brow.

“A-and the flips! You flip and did a bunch of acrobatic tricks, and the jabs, the “dim mak,” it was- I was- it was-.......HUH” he exclaimed.

“Not like Bakugou to freak out over a fight like that. What happened to Mr. Cool Guy?” Denki said.

“You shut your mouth, Sparky!” Bakugou threatened. “Look, all I’m tryna ask is..how and when did you learn all of this? Your quirk is crazy OP, and your fighter skill is insane! Appreciate that bullshit cuz I don’t say shit like that often.”

You just laughed and sighed. You weren’t sure how to answer his question. “Umm,” you started “I don’t really know...I just-“ you were cut off by a mouse. Principle Nezu, you remembered him.

“Mr. Aizawa?” The peppy mouse asked.

“Yes?” Aizawa replied.

“May I speak with you? Concerning your new student and her transfers. There’s been a few complications with her paperwork that need to be solved.” He politely asked.

“Yes, I understand sir. Class, free day. Head back to your dorms but be sure to get in an hour and a half of training today. That’ll be all. Dismissed.” The pro said as he followed the principle. As students gathered to leave and head back to the dormitory, Bakugou stopped you.

“Hey, wait. You still gotta tell me how you learned all this, Princess.” He said.

“What’s there to say?” You awkwardly laughed out. “Uh..I discovered my...quirk.. while doing some work-“

“Work as a child?” Bakugou asked.

“Sorta. I discovered it there and then..I met someone who trained me how to fight like that.” You explained.

“Your parents must be really proud.” Bakugou slightly smiled.

“Umm..yeah, I bet they are.” You said kind of skiddish.

“I can imagine the look on their faces when they saw the pretty impressive quirk you got. My parents were pretty shocked too with mine.” He added on.

“Oh really? You can imagine their faces?” You laughed out nervously. ‘I sure can’t,’ you thought to yourself.

“I mean yeah. Parents usually....” you drowned him out. Parents...parents...parents...PARENTS. You snapped.

“Bakugou!” You said with tone. “I don’t have or know my parents....” you said as he stopped talking and dropped his jaw to the ground. Before he could say anything, you bit your lips, called Rumor to go, and left, leaving Bakugou in regret.

As you ran with slight tears in your eyes, you told Rumor to change into a giant wolf. He shifted and you hopped on him.

“Let’s go to the spot, Rumor.” You said as he took off.

——————————————————————————

When Rumor arrived at ‘The Spot’ you settled. The spot was beautiful. Tall trees, beautiful plants, plenty of adorable creatures, and a gorgeous pond right in the middle of it all. You layed against a tree as Rumor placed you down so you could stop your tears and he transformed back into his wolf-dog form and cuddled up against you.

“No parents...” you said aloud. Although sad you never really got to experience or meet your parents or what it’s like to have them or a family, you were conflicted. Yes it was sad not having parents or a family, but you never had one so it’s hard to tell how you feel about the topic. As the thoughts ran through your mind, your eyes glowed a bright white and when you opened them, you weren’t at the spot anymore.

“Hello....?” You said as you looked around. “Helloooo...?? Anyone there?”

“Welcome back to the spirit world, Y/N.” When you turned to your side, you were in awe.

“Avatar Korra!” You bowed to show respect but then went to hug your spiritual mentor. She embraced you with wide arms. She’s always been the friendly, open, optimistic type. “What am I doing here, Korra?”

“Why do you think you’re here, Y/N?” She said with a sly smile and hands on her hips, but beaming eyes.

“My parents?” You questioned but she only shook her head.

“Your path.” Korra stated.

“My path?” You asked.

“Yes. Or more so, the path you choose.” She corrected.

“I don’t understand.” You said.

As Korra continued to smile at you, you both stood still as the world shifted. You looked around and saw the LOV hideout.

“The league? I don’t understand, what does my path have to do with them?” You questioned, but before she said anything, the world shifted once more and you were infront of UA’s building.

“The school?....Oh, this isn’t some typa light and dark thing, is it?” You asked Korra.

“It is.” She replied back.

“Ugghhhh, we’ve been through this. I’m a bad person. I could never fit in with those goodie two shoes! I’m a member of the league of villains! Not heroes. My path is the darkness.” You stated.

“Is it? You weren’t born into darkness.” Korra said.

“What?....”

“Y/N, you’re not a bad person. Your a villain because of survival. That’s the life that you know. That’s the life that you were kidnapped into.” Korra began.

“Yeah but-“

“But nothing. You know in your heart you would much rather be a hero than some low life villain!” Korra exclaimed.

“No I couldn’t. They’re too good. I could never be that great. Hell, I’m on a plan to take down UA right now!” You said.

“And are you doing that because you want to? Or is it because you think the league is gonna torture you any less if you succeed......you don’t wanna take down the heroes. You wanna be like them.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I can’t!”

“But you can. You can be all these amazing things, but you’re just on the wrong path with the wrong people. All you have to do is make the choice to leave them. You want to be good, Y/N. It’s in your nature. You’re the avatar after all. It’s your destiny to bring peace to the world.”

Once Korra had said that, a flash came and you were back in the spot. You gasped as you returned and shook your head. You saw it had gotten dark now and figured it was best if you headed back. You woke up Rumor and asked him to become a giant wolf again. He shifted and brought you back to UA. Along the walk, you couldn’t help but think back to what Korra said.

“My path......light or dark...” you looked down at your palms and squeezed them shut in frustration. You huffed and looked ahead, and saw you arrived at the front of the dorms. Standing there, waiting for you, Mr. Aizawa.

“Welcome back.” He said to you.

“Hi...” you blankly said as you attempted to get past him. However, he stopped you from going in.

“Not so fast, we need to speak first before anything else.” He stated

“What about? Because I’ve had a really long and kinda frustrating day, and I don’t need some bullshit to fuck it up even more. I mean, I’m so aggravated that I-“ a piece of paper dangling in your face shut you up.

“What are those?” You asked the hero.

“Adoption papers. I’m now your legal guardian.” Aizawa stated.

“.........HUHHHHH?!?!???” There was no way this was happening. It couldn’t be. You??? Adopted??? By a pro hero??? One that you almost killed???

“Okay, I’m sorry but I don’t need a guardian. I’ve been by myself, on my own, the second I was born. No family raised me, no motherly figure, no nothing. It’s just been me, the spirits, and the villain who took care of me till I was, what, 5? And then kicked me out and left me stranded. I’ve been surviving on my own for over a decade, I don’t need you to look out for me.” You exclaimed.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I won’t be an annoying parent, I’m just your legal guardian. You’re still underage, meaning you’ll need permission for certain things to continue to move forward.” He explained to you. You thought about it, and damn it, he was right. If you wanted to go about this whole thing the legal way, you’d need this.

“.....Fine. Just don’t tell me what to do dAD,” you sarcastically said.

“I’m your guardian and teacher now, I can tell you whatever I want, brat. Now get inside, you’re past curfew.” He said but you only squinted your eyes at him in disbelief. Did he really give you a curfew?

“Student curfew. You live in the dorms, all students have to be in this building by 10:30,” he explained. You just scoffed and went inside with Rumor.

“Guess I have a dad now, Rumor.” You sighed. You never had a father before. It warmed your heart a little, but then you remembered he wasn’t really your dad. Just a guardian. As you walked into the common area, you saw the lights were out. The students must’ve been in their dorms. You walked to the kitchen to grab a snack before heading to bed but you saw Bakugou sitting there with a water bottle in hand. He seemed kinda bummed out. You cleared your voice to get his attention and when he looked up at you, you told Rumor to head to the room.

“Y-Y/N! Hey!..” he said to you.

“Heh..hi Bakugou...Umm..I’m sorry about the whole..running away thing. I just needed to clear my head a little.” You said as you took the seat next to him.

“No, don’t apologize. I’m.....i-.....I’m sorry for pushing you about the whole parent thing. I didn’t know.” He apologized. You only shook your head and stared at your hands before speaking up.

“It’s fine. How could you know? After all, I’ve only been here for 2 days. Besides, you didn’t really upset me, it’s just..I feel kinda outta place when the parent topic comes up. Guess I just freaked out,” you saw the look on his face. Disappointment. Is he that upset that hurt you? Or at least thought he did? “B-but don’t worry! I’m fine! For real! I’ve been parent-less for almost my entire life so it doesn’t sting like that. Hehe..wow Umm. Depressing. You know I feel like I’m rambling, am I rambling? Should I stop? I think I should shut up, or maybe I’m just gonna go now that I-“ Bakugou placed his hand on yours which shut you up real quick. You looked up at his face as he stared into your eyes.

“You can talk to me about it you know. It’s clear you wanna get some things off your chest and I’m really interested in you.” You raised your brow at that last sentence. He realized what he said and quickly tried to correct himself.

“I mean- uh- not like that, or um it could be like that! It could be, if you’re cool with that. But it’s not, or maybe, i don’t know, it’s not it’s, I was, it was, I- yeah I’m gonna stop talking now.” He cleared his throat at the end of that, settling down. You giggled and reassured him.

“No, no it’s fine. I really don’t mind. Umm, what do you wanna know. I’m fine with sharing anything.” You said.

“Okay, let’s just continue with this parent topic then....how were you raised?” He asked. This scared you. You had to be real careful with your choice of words or else your cover would be blown.

“Okay, let’s see. I was born in a place-“

“Oh really?” He teased.

“Shuddup,” you laughed and playfully hit his shoulder.

“And that place was..very private. Very unknown, but my parents Umm, i don’t really know what happened to them. The earliest thing I can remember is that..someone found me and told me my parents were gone, they weren’t my real family, they just took me in because they couldn’t let a baby die, and raised me till I was 5.” You said.

“And then?” He asked.

“You sure? It just goes down hill from here.” You warned. But he only nodded and asked for you to continue. You looked at your hands in your lap before continuing.

“I was kicked out. Left on the streets. I slept on park benches, in alleyway tunnels, on rooftops of buildings. I pawned for food and..” you didn’t know if you should admit the next part. But Bakugou held onto your hand and asked for more.

“And then?” He questioned.

“.....I did what I had to do to survive. I committed crimes, but I had to live. I was just a child and didn’t know what to do. If you look at me any different for what I did though, I won’t judge you.” You said. He squeezed your hand almost as if he was telling you he understood. He nodded and pleaded for more.

“After 2 years on the streets, a cult found me. An evil and dark cult. They used their quirks to torture people they kidnapped and made them slaves to create weapons. They kept us in cells and chains, working 24/7. It was there that I learned of my abilities. I found out I could control the 4 elements and their sub-elements. There, I also met a master. He was old and couldn’t fight anymore, but he saw the potential in me and taught me dim mak in the shadows. After a year of being enslaved there and secretly training, these people (the LOV) came in and killed the cult members and stole some of their weapons and destroyed the rest. Once I saw them taking down those horrible people, I used my abilities and they saw. I guess I impressed them and they recruited me to join their little family. I’ve been with them ever since. But then I met Mr. Aizawa and he asked me to join UA. Since the group I joined wasn’t really family, I didn’t need their permission. They were more like friends and they were even the ones who pushed me to come here.” You finished up your little story and saw Bakugou looked at you with worry in his eyes.

“And now I’m here! Sitting in a dim kitchen at UA with a cute boy at 11:00 p.m.” you said trying to cheer up the mood. “Bakugou...”

“You’re not..affected? By everything you’ve been through?”

“You don’t have to feel bad!”

“But I do! You’re here! You’re not...”

“Dead?” You teased.

“Basically!” You laughed at that.

“Y/N, I’m serious!” Bakugou tried to say.

“And so am I! You don’t have to be upset. I value everything I went through, all the good and bad.” You explained.

“Why?” He asked.

“Because it made me the kickass baddie that I am today!” You said flipping your hair and laughing. “Seriously though! Everything I went through made me who I am. It’s made me stronger, more independent. It lets me know I can handle myself. So I’m good, you don’t have to worry.” You said grabbing onto his hand again and reassuring him. He used his thumb to rub at your hand and enjoy the feeling.

“You are...probably the strongest person I’ve ever met.” He said calmly with a small SMALL smile on his face as he looked at you.

“I’ll also bet that I’m also the only “criminal” that you look like you wanna kiss.” You playfully said.

“Maybe I do...” he said with a smirk and soft voice as he leaned in closer.

“And maybe I’ll let you..” you said as you leaned in. As you two got closer and closer, your eyes filled with daze and the world around you two fell apart. It was just you and him in that moment. Until it was ruined. Just as your lips were about to touch, Mr. Aizawa came in.

“Hey!” He shouted

“GAH!” You both screamed and jumped away from each other with a blush adoring both your faces. Aizawa walked up to both of you, shoving the adoption papers in bakugou’s face.

“No smooching with my newly adopted daughter!” He said with a stern voice.

“I’m not your daughter! You’re just my guardian and it only happened like a few hours ago!” You stated.

“You can’t tell me who I can and can’t kiss, old man.” Bakugou said.

“Listen you little punk! I outta...” then Bakugou and your teacher were now going at it, yelling over each other and saying whatever, completely leaving you outta the conversation. You let out a little gust of wind to shut them up and get their attention.

“Okay, it’s late, tomorrow is Saturday, so you two won’t have to see each other, MAYBE, for 2 days. Can we just let this whole thing cool over?” You asked.

“We can, I’m just annoyed at the fact that this dynamite stick was gonna steal my daughter away from me!” Aizawa complained.

“I wasn’t stealing her, I was-“

“STOLEEEEEEE” Aizawa corrected and Bakugou just sucked his teeth and looked around.

“Whatever, can we just let it go?” You asked again. They nodded and you all went your separate way. Except for the fact that once Aizawa was outta sight, Bakugou went running right back to you and walked you to your dorm.

“Sooo..about that kiss.” Bakugou said. You just giggled and opened the door to your room.

“Goodnight, Bakugou,” you said but as you were about to walk in, he said something else.

“Katsuki.”

“Huh?” You said looking back at him.

“Katsuki. It’s my name. You can call me Katsuki.” He explained.

“Wow, trust me that much?” You teased.

“You trusted me enough to open up, this is the least I could do.” He said. You smiled and corrected yourself.

“Okay then...goodnight, Katsuki.” You said smiling. He pulled you in by your waists and held you close as he placed a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Goodnight, Princess.” He said and walked off.

A/N: Ok Cubs! That was the second part and in here we got to see the spirit world! We’re intorduced to Avatar Korra and we’ve discovered Y/N is the present avatar! How do we feel about this? Good? Bad? Let me know!!! I hope your enjoying the story so far. I know it’s kinda weird and all outta disorder but this is my personal day dream that I wanna bring to life that I’m hoping some of you enjoy. It’s just a jumble of avatar elements with a BNHA/MHA base. Please be patient with me! I know this is a Bakugou x Reader fic but it is also a story. It’s gonna grow and build and once we establish the basics, more Bakugou x Reader issues will show up along the way! I hope you’ve liked it so far! See you next time! 💗🧸

[writing-gifts]

both sides of the viewfinder chp. 1

adult film star!bruno x afab!reader  (they are also gn)

this is 18+ content

summary:  Bruno's interested in you and you're interested in him. It's only a matter of time.

chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 4

------

A/N: okay so this is gonna be 3 chapters. the last chapter’s smut, but there’s pretty suggestive stuff happening in the 2nd chapter

i did research for this and wanted to try to make it more on the realistic side but there's always the chance that i messed up somewhere, so if you wanna point it out go ahead. it'll be good to know for the future!

------

This wasn't your first time filming for sex work but you felt a little out of your element. The studio that recently hired you was much bigger than what you were used to and considering that you were mainly doing freelance work before, this made everything feel much more professional and serious. Their work had to be highly produced.

"--We aren’t super strict about that, but you should definitely tell me before you go anywhere."

Right now, you were being given a quick tour by one of the people you'd be working with--the Director of Photography. Jocelyn was pretty much your manager and would be giving you most of the orders.

You continue to follow behind her as she continues to show you around. But you couldn't help eyeing the high quality lights and cameras you pass as she talked though. The equipment must have been worth a lot.

Once she has finished showing you around, she leads you back to the set filled with the crew that you passed earlier.

You listen closely as she goes over the details of the film.

"This will be the room where the main scene will take place. Today we will have you operating one of the stationary cameras, but since you’ve done stuff like this before I decided to let you do it without someone breathing down your neck. Just follow my orders."

You like the woman already. "Thank you."

"The shoot will start in--" she checks her watch, "--about an hour. Today is just filming for you but you know you’ll be doubling up as a runner when necessary. We might also have you help with other tasks while you work here too."

You nod to show you understand.

She smiles, "If you have any questions don't be afraid to ask me or any of your co-workers. Try to avoid asking the director though…."

-------

You adjust the headphones on your head as you stand in front of the camera you'd be in charge of today.

Working it should be simple enough since you didn't have to actually move. You just needed to make sure it stayed in focus so they had more options when it came to angles.

About 10 minutes later, the two actors starring today show up dressed in fairly nice clothes that they wouldn't be wearing for too long. One of them seemed quite friendly with everyone. He must be pretty popular you think.

Before you can recede to your thoughts, you recognize him.

Is that Bruno Bucciarati?

You quickly confirm that it is and turn your body away from him and towards the camera, as if doing that would hide you. You weren't necessarily a stan but you did follow him on social media. And perhaps you did subscribe to his OnlyFans. And there's a good chance you paid money for some of his work.

It wasn't your fault that he was one of the few male stars you found attractive!

You shake your head. This was work. Don't get starstruck.

Luckily, it doesn't take you long to get distracted with the camera. You rarely get to operate such expensive equipment like this so you find yourself looking at all it had to offer.

While you neglect socializing with the people you would be working with from now on, someone comes up to you.

"You look so focused."

Your eyes widen from the sudden voice and you pull down your headphones as you look to the side. "Oh sorry--" When you see who it is the rest of your statement dies in your throat.

However, Bruno isn't deterred by your abrupt stop. "You must be the new camera person."

You stare a second too long before nodding.

He holds out a hand and you have to calm your shaking one before reaching out and grabbing his. His hand was really warm.

“Nice to meet you, my name's Bruno Bucciarati."

"I'm ____. I've actually seen some of your work before! You really are as handsome as in the videos."

Even though you're straight-faced, you were regretting what you just said. It was a simple compliment but what if it was too much? His looks did astound you though, there was no denying it. And you really didn't understand how he managed to pull off that haircut.

You smile to ease the tension within yourself and Bruno returns it. Whether it was genuine or out of politeness you didn't know, but it helps you relax.

"Thank you," he says.

“Okay everyone get in your damn places! We’ll be starting soon!”

Your brows raise at the director’s choice of words.

Bruno turns back to you. "Well, let's do our best to get through this."

You nod and watch him walk towards the bed where his co-star is waiting, and the director immediately starts going over what he wants the two of them to do once he’s there.

You decide to do a quick second check on your camera to make sure everything is still working properly before waiting patiently for the director to start.

------

Between some cuts and breaks, filming’s done about 6 hours later. You’d been informed about the typical work time so you weren't surprised. The porn from this studio was highly produced, with a few “amateur” looking works thrown in, so it was the norm. But this was the longest you had worked on one film. So depending on how particular the director was, you would need to be prepared to do at least several hours of filming when behind the camera.

You rub your eyes. It's only 4 pm but you're yearning for your bed. You could only imagine how tired the actors were.

Right after you turn off the camera, Jocelyn calls you over.

"You did well today and looks like you don't need any serious training. Good job!" she praises.

You guessed you passed the new hire "test". That gave you a bit of an energy boost and you can't help the smile on your face.

While you remove the camera from its tripod, you begin to retreat to your mind. And of course, your mind wanders to a certain actor.

Bruno was good at what he did. Really good. And the other actor seemed to genuinely enjoy working with him too. For a second, you wonder what it's like.

You glance up and accidentally make eye contact with a now fully clothed Bruno. The man walks towards you and even though you had watched him just have sex for multiple hours, you feel nervous.

“What’s up?” you ask when he's close enough.

"Nothing. I like to check up on newcomers, but you must have worked in this field for a while since they usually tend to have some hang ups."

"Uh yea. I've been doing stuff like this for awhile. Good work today by the way."

"Same with you. It was long but things went as smoothly as they could."

You nod in agreement and finish folding up the tripod. “They did, but honestly that one position you were in looked super uncomfortable! Is your back okay?”

The man laughs. “I'll be fine. That was pretty tame to be fair.”

“Wow, you must be super fit or flexible then...” You notice your coworkers walking off with equipment and decide its best to end the conversation so you can follow them. "Oh, I need to put away this stuff. Thanks for checking up on me though!"

Bruno smiles at you and you scurry off with the camera and the tripod.

-----

You'd been here a week so far. Each day varied with things to do and you never really knew what you'd exactly be working on until you got to the studio.

For today you had a list of various tasks but the first one was conducting a pre-shoot interview with the actors for the porn being shot in an hour.

You look through the viewfinder at the two men sitting on the couch. You were already recording but the interview hadn't started just yet.

“It’s been awhile since I've done an interview so bear with me...” you mumble while going over the questions in your head.

“No pressure ____,” Bruno says.

The man doesn't seem bothered but Prosciutto, on the other hand, isn’t as laid back.

“You should at least have a list of questions prepared,” the blonde says.

"Yep right here!" You pull out a piece of paper from your pocket. From the list you could tell this collaboration had been long requested by their fans.

“I did my best to remember it but just in case…” You place the paper on a surface out of view.

You readjust the camera on your shoulder before speaking again. “Okay, let's start with names you say.”

You focus the camera on Bruno. You wish you had a tripod, but they were insistent on having you walk around with the damn thing to make it feel more “personal”.

"I’m Bruno Bucciarati."

You then turn the camera to focus on Prosciutto.

"I’m Prosciutto."

“So I know this is the first time you both are working together. How are we feeling?”

Bruno smiles. “I'm feeling pretty good and ready to work. How about you, Prosciutto?”

“Pretty much how I do before any shoot.”

“And what's that?” you ask.

Prosciutto crosses his arms. “Mostly relaxed but looking forward to it of course.”

"That's good. I know it'll be tiring filming and from how highly requested this seems to be, the director's going to want this to be perfect. But I'm hoping you guys still have fun."

"I'm sure we will, but I still don't know why so many people wanted us to work together," Prosciutto says.

Bruno nods. "Agreed. I feel like we’ve rarely interacted until now."

"Well people like seeing attractive people together. And I've actually seen fancams of you two interacting on Twitter. It's pretty entertaining!"

“You search those up?” Bruno asks.

“No, they just show up on my timeline sometimes.”

“...So you're a fan of Bruno then?” You weren't sure why but you sense a bit of judgement coming from Prosciutto.

"A little, but let's move on." You take a peek at the paper. "So who’s receiving and who’s catching?"

You raise a brow at how the question’s phrased.

Bruno looks at Prosciutto. “Don't you think we should let the film speak for itself.”

The blonde hums in agreement. “If they need to know so badly, they can skip ahead.”

“True. I think either way would be fun to watch though,” you say.

“Definitely. You should let me know what you think later.” Bruno says.

You don't mean to smile but it's already happening. "Sure."

“You're real unprofessional flirting with the camera person in the middle of an interview,” Prosciutto chides.

“It's just some banter. Are you jealous?”

Prosciutto tsks at Bruno's statement.

You shake your head deciding not to acknowledge those comments. The editor would have to cut out that bit. The two seemed to get along well enough for work but you had a feeling they would get on each other's nerves if they stayed together too long.

“Okay so this is definitely a good question to ask next. What do you guys like about each other? Either personality or physical wise."

Prosciutto glances at Bruno before speaking. “I can admit that the man has a nice….physique.”

You grin. "You sound like I'm putting a gun to your head."

The man fixes you with a very unamused look but you continue on smiling.

"What about you Bruno?" you ask.

“Well he has an attractive face and body, of course. His stubbornness is enjoyable at times too.”

“Stubbornness?”

Prosciutto seems to have the same question as you because he looks at Bruno for his explanation.

“Yes it's a good trait to have in certain situations.” Bruno returns the blonde’s stare. “It'll also make seeing him unravel much more interesting.”

The two of them are now looking at each other very intently and you feel like you should leave the room. But you need to finish the interview.

“Nice...so this is the last question. Is there anything specific you two are looking forward to?”

Fortunately, the two of them can still hear you and respond.

Bruno hums, “I suppose it's been awhile since I've given a blowjob, so there's that.”

"...And I'm looking forward to receiving one."

You let out a chuckle, “Okay, Prosciutto I see what you're about.” You quickly skim the list of interview questions. "Well looks like that's it! You guys ready to go?”

They both give you their positive answers.

“Then let's get you guys ready for the shoot."

Bruno smiles while Prosciutto's face stays neutral.

After that statement you stop recording.

“Okay, nice job guys!” You look at the clock on the wall. “That went pretty fast. So you can go ahead and head to the set.”

Prosciutto nods and exits the room but Bruno stays behind.

“Are you going to be helping film for the shoot?” he asks.

You gently place the camera down on the table where you left the paper.

“No, I have to go out and buy some things for something being filmed later this week. And then I have to go do some other stuff around the studio…” You laugh, “They really have me running around!”

Bruno looks slightly concerned. “You’d prefer to stay behind the camera the whole time right?”

“Yep but that's okay. I already knew what I was getting into, and I get paid better pretty well for it.” You look back up at the clock. “I’ll definitely be back for the interview after filming though so I should see you then.”

Bruno nods. "Okay, good luck with your errands."

----

By the end of the day, you're exhausted. Your list of tasks wasn't hard, you just ended up moving a lot more than you planned. You even almost forgot to take your break in your hustle.

When you return to your apartment, you eat something and take a quick shower before dressing up for bed. And once you're snuggled up in your covers, you decide to check your Twitter to see if anything interesting has happened.

While scrolling through the random posts retweeted throughout the day, you happen upon a pretty suggestive picture of Bruno in lingerie. He posted it not too long ago.

Nice.

You click on his icon to check his page to see if there’s anything else new, and under his username notice the words follows you.

Your eyes widen and you double check and refresh to make sure you're not seeing things. You go into your notifications and see that he followed you a couple hours ago. You really weren't sure what to do. It would be weird if you messaged him, right?

You take a deep breath and decide to take the chance. Bruno probably got hundreds of messages so it shouldn't be a big deal.

hi, i saw that you followed me. just making sure you didn't make a mistake lol

Before you can overthink it you send the message. After that you go back to his page and like and retweet the lingerie photo, but you still need a distraction so you wouldn't obsess over a possible reply. When you're thinking of getting out of bed, a message from Bruno pops up.

You quickly open it to see the full message.

No mistakes here. I searched you up and saw that you already followed me so I wanted to follow back.

It's not the first time you've been followed by pornstars or coworkers you worked with, but it was honestly still rare. And something about it being Bruno made your heart beat faster. You momentarily think about everything you retweeted in the last hour, before sending a message back.

oh okay, thx! i'll try not to bother you too much, you probably get a lot of messages

A few seconds pass before you get another reply.

Not necessarily. I have DMs off for people I don't follow. I love my fans but they can get...rowdy. Either way, you can message me whenever you want.

Wow, what would you even talk about with Bruno outside of work related things...

oh, that makes sense. well i guess i’ll take you up on the offer ^^

You see the three dots going for a while before another message appears.

I saw you retweeted my picture.

Your heart skips a beat.

oh god, now i feel embarrassed all of a sudden!

No don’t be. I'm glad you like it.

You smile to yourself.

yea, you look really good in lingerie ...you look good in anything tbh or without anything lmao

You feel like you're about to say something really embarrassing if this conversation continues and quickly type up another message before he can respond.

i’m really tired so i’m going to get ready for bed

The three dots disappear for a moment before showing up again.

Shame, I would have liked talking more. But I understand, you looked really exhausted during the post interview.

yea i was but it’s no biggie and we can message later ❤

Okay then, sleep well ____.

good night 😴

You close out of the app after that and honestly, that went way better than you were expecting.

[drewstarky]

rakes | chapter two

pairing: regency!Harrison Osterfield x regency!reader

words: 2.1k 

warnings:  bridgerton s1 spoilers, swearing, mentions of sex

a/n: this took me forever to write because i wrote the ending ish and I have even the whole end part planned out lmao. now I just need to write up to it lmao. 

Please Reblog and Like if you enjoy!

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You awoke startled, sweaty, and with tears streaming down your face. It had been from a nightmare, of your first season’s debut. You knew that things could not go as horribly wrong that night did, yet, you were afraid deep down it might. 

You could never forget the piercing scream that rang through your body as you watched helplessly, your worst unknown nightmare becoming real in front of you, and being able to do nothing for your parents. 

After sitting in your bed for what seemed like hours, you decided to get dressed at the start making a list of what you had to do in haste to get ready for the season’s rush.

There was so much to do and so little time, so you knew one worry could be put at ease if you planned it all out. At least then your mind would hopefully quiet down the thoughts in your head. 

Sitting near the window with it open, you watched the sunrise, wondering how your dear William was doing. You had left hastily, not even with a goodbye to him. It was too painful to be in Grosvenor square where all your fondest memories had been with your deceased parents. He was of course in those fond memories, yet it was too painful as you saw your father in him, and the man he became because of your father being a parental figure to him.

You wondered how he was handling being the earl, especially without the guidance or help of anyone. Especially since your presence is missing. You wrote to him all the time, yet he had no return address to send it to so you knew not much of how your dearest sibling was doing.

You knew not much of duty of being a man and running an estate and the burden weighed on society of being an earl, yet you knew the pressures and gossip and betrayal all too much so you knew it could not have been easy. 

You only wished as much that you could have stayed for William, yet you knew your body would not let you stay as the fear would crawl into your bones, rotting you into some sort of insane spinster. 

You stretched your body out after sitting for too long on the uncomfortable chair, deciding it was time to head on out- “the earlier the better”- you thought.

As soon as you stepped out into the hall you had turned, and collided with a strong torso, almost falling to the ground. Strong arms had caught you before you took a nasty spill. 

“Pardon me-” you whispered quietly, as you then realized the close proximity of you and the man that had caught you, his face very close to your own. 

He looked disheveled slightly, with his golden locks out of place slightly, and a small amount of dusting of freckles that adorned his face. His icy blue eyes had been staring into yours, almost too cold to even look into, yet you felt a sense of curiosity to capture the color of them in your mind. You also had noticed the closeness of your bodies in this very moment, almost too scandalous to even think of in society’s ton. 

“Apologies, Miss.,” he said with a slightly crooked smile that could make any woman melt at this moment. 

He helped you regain your balance on your own two feet, before heading towards the stairs, giving you a lopsided smile again, nodding at you, and went downstairs.

You were almost too stunned to move from the interaction. You had never been as close as that to a man in your life. It gave you a small chill down your spine, even thinking about him, the mystery man. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts when your maid, Lucy, was walking out of the adjacent room to yours. 

“Madam, shall I fetch the carriage?” she asks you politely, suddenly snapping you out of your entranced state. 

“Yes, we should get going.”

Arriving at the Bridgeton home was, interesting to say the least, in a good way. It had been around noon, after your stop at the modiste, picking up dresses for the most -well- dreaded season, and you had been welcomed by most of the Bridgerton ladies in the drawing-room, embraced by Violet, asking for your time heading to their home. It was quite a shock as the chaos yet love could be felt in the room, as whom you were assuming the two youngest were arguing of some hair ribbon, and two of the other elder brothers of Daphne’s were in some heated debate about god knows what, and one sister was writing in a journal of some sort as the other played the pianoforte. 

“Welcome dear, to our home. I apologize in advance for the chaos, we are getting ready for Elosie’s first season, and our masquerade ball.”

“No need to apologize, Lady Bridgerton. Thank you for letting me stay until William gets in tomorrow. I just couldn’t stay in the house alone.”

“Please call me Violet! And any friend of my family is welcome here. Children, This is Lady Y/L/N.”

“If I am to call you Violet I insist you all call me Y/n” she smiles warmly towards you, “Eloise, could you please show Y/n to her room, I’m sure she is but tired from her journey.”

She comes out of her trance of writing responding to her mother, “Of course Mama.”

As you walk out of the drawing-room with her she looks as if she’s in deep thought. 

“I have so many questions to ask of you! How were you able to travel? I only thought men such as my brother could do so, yet here you are!”

“Well when my parents passed, I just- well, couldn’t stay here, so I ventured off with what my bro- erm, cousin, William had given to me. I went to visit some other cousins in France and had gone off to other parts of Europe. It was better than I had ever imagined. But now my duty is to my family, and the adventure has stopped, for now at least.”

You had stopped walking when you reached a door, that you assumed was your room.  

“That is incredible, I shall wait to ask more of you, later on of course.”

“Why don’t you show me the grounds and I shall tell you more, right now, and you can tell me about yourself, Eloise.”

Her face lit up.

“I would quite enjoy that!”

After walking around their grounds, you had sat on the swings on a tree, telling her all about your adventures, and she told you about herself and even told you quite a bit about Lady Whistledown and her venture in trying to find the writer behind the pen. It had been a few hours, probably nearing dinner time, but you felt at ease with Eloise. At least, you knew you had a friend in her, that hated society almost as much as you,

“I cannot believe you went in the ocean on the beach! Most ladies here would assume it unlady-like!”

“Well, I am especially not one for lady-like behavior! Especially structured by vicious mamas!” you both laugh together at that comment. Oh how you both knew of the shocking behavior of the ton’s mamas. 

“I believe we should head in now, Dinner will soon be ready, and I can only assume you are starving since we only had biscuits earlier.”

You both get up stretching your legs lightly, before heading indoors. 

You felt warmth sitting at the dinner table, though not typical, it felt like they truly loved each other, and actually enjoyed each other as a family, something you had longed for from your own family, especially for William’s sake.

William had never felt like he belonged in your family, at least not fully. The warmth you and your parents tried to give to him almost did not get through his thick skull, that you had accepted him as an esteemed member of the family. You had always wondered if it was because his true father never accepted him until he needed him to fulfill his wants. 

“So, Y/n are you excited for the season?” Anthony cuts through his current conversation, to include you. 

“Probably something of the sort. I am quite intrigued to see how people have changed.”

“Well, most have not, especially the men.” 

You laughed slightly at that. 

“Well do tell whom to stay away from.” you joke.

“If you have not read the most recent lady Whistledown I assume you don’t know.”

“I’m not quite sure I’ve ever heard of a Lady Whistledown?” you question, curiosity getting to the best of you. 

“Lady Whistledown is a gossip writer, under a pen name, whom, however, mentions people in the ton in name, by name in full.” Eloise cuts in.

You raise a brow quizzically. That was unheard of. 

“She mentions you in her most recent edition” Hyacinth mentions, before going back to throwing peas strategically when her mother wasn’t looking at her brother Gregory.  

“I’m sure Eloise has it if she hasn’t already shown you.” now you were fully intrigued. There was truly only one main thing you thought the writer could write about.

“She wrote about Lord Holland today, and might I say he is pretty dreamy.” Francesca pipes up, before earnings glare from Anthony and a kick from Eloise.

“Ow!” 

“If I didn’t do it, Anthony would have and he kicks harder.” 

You giggle at the family’s interactions. You only hoped you could have one as close as the Bridgertons.

“I see we are quite the entertainment for our guest tonight. I guess there’s no need for Eloise to get on the pianoforte. God knows I’m in motion for that.” Benedict adds before earning a kick from Eloise as well. 

“Ow!”

“Back to the topic at hand, I’d stay away from Benedict for certain.” Eloise says, which erupts you five into a fit of giggles, before getting your end of the table gets a hard stare-down from Violet, almost as if to say ‘behave’.

“So I'm assuming other than Daphne missing, the letter C, Colin, must be the one travelling? Daph did mention he would be writing me asking about the best places to travel.”

“Yes, Colin is the one travelling, but was the letter system too obvious of whom is which?” Benedict asks in an amused manner. 

“I think it’s adorable, and if you must know I find it orderly.”

“Don’t tell my mother that, or she won’t stop talking about how ‘Lady Y/n complimented her naming system’.” Benedict jokes.

You laugh before you see Eloise bringing out what you assumed was the gossip sheet. She hands it to you before you read it over, turning slightly pale at the mentions of your family so intimately.

Harrison had made it into town earlier that afternoon, only to be wondering why Mama’s, and Ladies alike- married or not- had been whispering and pointing at him. On the other hand, he had been met with a warm embrace from his wonderful sister Charlotte, and loving Mother, Phil, only to be dragged by Charlotte for her to tell him to read the latest Lady Whistledown, a woman he knew he hadn’t heard of, nevertheless thought he’d fucked. 

He however listened to his sister and her worry, before being shell-shocked by what was on the page. 

“Charlotte what the hell is this? And who the hell wrote it?"

“Lady Whistledown is but the biggest anonymous gossip columnist, and everyone reads it. Haz what am I to do if no suitors show interest when I am eligible for marriage? What if I end up a spinster?!”

“Char, I won’t let that happen I promise you.”

Harrison was determined to make sure charlotte never had to worry. She was the most lovely of any woman on the market and he would make sure she had a shot. 

“Wait Osterfield, you’re saying, you’ll Woo whoever is the most desired by the queen and marry her?” Tom askes very confusedly as to what sparked this in his bestfriend.

“Yes Tom, That is my plan,” Harrison replies before taking a sip of his drink again.

The two men had reunited at the Bridgerton’s gentleman club, talking over Harrison’s not so genius plan, according to Tom.

“Do you know how many mamas loathe even the sight of you right now? Especially because of Lady Whistledown.” Harrison’s face scrunches up, cringing at that. 

“Yes, I know already. But if I can just get in the good graces of Lady Whistledown, then I know any mama will turn around! maybe if I form an attachment with someone she might see that I’m serious about marrying. Don’t you have that cousin? Zendaya?”

“That’s a terrible idea, Harrison. Also, Zendaya is now going to be under my care according to my mother. She told her father, who is ill,  I’d watch out for her during the season to find her a suitable husband.”

Harrison gets a mischievous, conniving look on his face as the gears turn in his brain. “I said suitable Haz! Her father would have a heart attack if you came near her!”

“Fine, but can you at least convince her to show interest in me to the other ladies? So I can find a wife?”

Tom rolls his eyes before downing his drink mentally hating the idea, but agreeing to try for his almost brother,  even if he didn’t think he’d find a wife.

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[bellshells]

Do Me No Wrong Part One

Part one of Do Me No Wrong, this is just entirely too big and too self serving to be one post. I guess we could call this a slow-burn now? I have thoroughly enjoyed writing this, and cannot wait to share part two with you! Pairing: Severus Snape x Fem!Reader x Remus Lupin Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smut (Masturbation, Penetrative sex), Angst(?), Suggested Polyamorous Themes Word Count: 10.7k+

  It appeared to be at first glance quite an innocent and innocuous start to the spring term. The castle had been abuzz from October to Christmas after Sirius Black had encroached the defences and found his way to Gryffindor Tower. Luckily, The Fat Lady had performed her duty and not allowed him entry; but that did nothing to quell the whispers of fear and excitement that reverberated off the ancient stone walls. You had found it difficult to look Remus in the eye. When he was present for meals that is. You had known him whilst you were a student- albeit Remus and his friends (Sirius included) had been four years older and far more important than to ever cast even a cursory glance in your direction. But still the fact remained that the four of them along with Potter and Pettigrew had been more like brothers than friends, everyone knew that. It must be immensely difficult to know that your best friend; your supposed brother in arms had escaped from the most secure facility this side of the wizarding world and had successfully broken in to the second most secure facility to murder one of your students. Not only that, the son of your other best friend who also died because of this man.

  You supposed that’s why, that first night that Remus appeared in the Great Hall, sandy hair limp around his face and dark circles under his eyes, you cleared your throat and offered him a smile. Remus returned it tightly, his eyes tired and glassy as he took his seat next to you. He smelled terrible, you turned your head to the side as inconspicuously as you could and muttered a spell under your breath, in an instant the smell was gone and although you assumed Remus would be none the wiser, you noticed as he gave a small glance in your direction. It was only when Severus appeared at the far end of the table that you noticed any change in Remus’ posture. He seemed to stiffen slightly, his chin raising in silent defiance as his hand reached greedily toward his goblet. The few interactions you had shared with Severus since you joined the Hogwarts teaching staff had done nothing to change your opinion of him. He was cold and distant when you were children and he remained unchanged these years later. It had been more than a surprise when he appeared as the new potion’s professor for your seventh year, it had only felt like five minutes since he had been a student himself, yet there he was; not so much fresh-faced as stony. He had remained as he always had; moody and unapproachable. Although, you had imagined that a man in his mid-thirties would have accumulated some conversational skills, it appeared that that had either passed Severus by, or he had deigned it unworthy of his time. In any case, you found it easier to keep out of his way, and in turn, Severus returned the favour. It almost seemed a shame. He had always come across as someone with a brilliant mind and therefore would have interesting and insightful opinions, but it had become clear very early on that if he did, he chose not to share them. Instead, you sought information or rather, gossip about him from the usual sources of Pomona and Minerva. Minerva, not readily able to forget your time as her student had refused to participate at first, but you learned swiftly that a bottle of mead and a muggle vinyl just might do the trick. Severus, a perpetual bachelor, still guarded even though the war had long since ended, nonetheless had piqued your interest almost immediately. It became apparent though, that you were indeed barking up the wrong tree.

  Remus seemed more comfortable after a while. He exchanged a few pleasantries with Hagrid as the bearded man made a clumsy attempt to request help in warding his hippogriff’s new lodging outside of his hut. Remus conceded to take a look, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes confirmation to Hagrid, and the games-keeper seemed content with that. You settled comfortably into the silence that fell over your side of the table. You often chose to sit on the very end, it made it easier to make a swift escape back to your chamber if needs be. You weren’t a head of house, neither did you teach a core subject, you had few Arithmancy students and so you found your evening often free. Not tonight though. You kept one eye on the headmaster and one eye on your muggle watch affixed to your left wrist. The ticking by of the seconds seemed arduously slow as your empty plate sat mockingly in front of you. Out of the corner of your eye, Pomona leaned forward in her chair and waved a hand in your direction. Glancing at the stout woman, she wore an excited grin. She was almost giddy as she tapped her wrist impatiently, an idiosyncrasy she had acquired from you. You bit your lip to stop the laugh that built in your chest and returned your gaze to your empty plate.   “Big plans?” A soft voice asked. Remus looked almost cheerful as he turned his attention to you from Pomona who was now practically tugging at Minerva’s sleeve like a child would do with their mother. You noticed how he seemed more like himself, the dark circles still prevalent under his green eyes, but his cheeks were flushed with pink.   “Oh yes. There’s a bottle of firewhisky with my name on it.” You replied, “I hear the Broomstick’s calling my name, if only this meal would just bloody end.” Remus sniggered and leaned toward you conspiratorially.   “I should have known alcohol would be involved. Nobody looks this happy on a Thursday…unless they have a date.” Remus whispered, he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and you placed a hand on his shoulder.   “Ah, someone has clearly never been for a drink with the two biggest gossips this castle has ever seen.” You gesture to where Minerva is subtly swatting Pomona away with an affectionately stern look. “It’s amazing the things you find out.” Bringing your goblet to your lips, the tartness of the wine brought a tingling from your tongue to the tips of your toes as Remus watched you. You considered the man before you, handsome and rugged. It was impossible to ignore the dramatic scars that littered his face and hands, but with the evocation of sympathy they withdrew, was an air of mystery that was almost intoxicating. Was he dangerous, or just very unlucky? Remus seemed to take note of your appraisal of him, whether he was amused or intrigued, his face didn’t betray him. Only the slight narrowing of his eyes told of a deeper thought held within.   “And what might one learn from two inscrutable gossips?” He said, his voice low. You felt an all too familiar feeling in the base of your chest, the feeling of boisterousness as you began to gently flirt with Remus. The dishevelled man from earlier almost entirely forgotten.   “That would be telling, Professor.”

  Remus looked slowly from your eyes to your lips and back, you had danced this dance before and knew how it would end; sweaty and sated more than likely. You smirked at the thought and reclined slightly in your chair, allowing Remus’ gaze to travel with you. You had barely noticed the students rise along the stretched pews as Albus stepped down from the High Table and moved languidly towards the now open doors. You stood too, now conscious of the hundreds of pairs of eyes looking at their teachers for permission to leave. Minerva nodded curtly to the crowd and the students began to noisily disperse to their respective common rooms. You took advantage of the distraction to slip away from the hall, there is after all, the most fun in the chase. You pondered silently to yourself as you dressed and made your way to the courtyard; if the flirtatious nature of your conversation with Remus had been by design a distraction technique of his own. He had seemed in a sorry state when he had arrived that evening, having been absent for the best part of a week. Alongside that, he had never much taken an interest in you beyond the professional up until that point and whilst you enjoyed the interaction, you weren’t convinced.

  Minerva was the first to join you, her emerald cloak snatched tightly to her chest in the brisk evening. She rolled her eyes as she approached you, a grimace settling on her face as she boldly lifted your wrist to her face and checked the time under the moonlight.   “She’s hounded me all evening to get out of the castle, its typical that she would be late.” Minerva sniffed as she folded her arms across her chest. You laughed once in agreement and enquired of her day, this earned another eye roll from the older witch confirming your suspicions that a stiff drink would be in order. Pomona came bounding out of the darkness, her hat slightly skewwhiff in her hurry and her breathless apology as she approached was all that was said before the three of you began towards Hogsmeade. The Three Broomstick’s was busy, busier than you had anticipated it to be on a Thursday in the middle of January. You craned your neck to see an available table, Pomona doing the same.   “Well, this simply won’t do.” Minerva muttered as she strode towards the bar. Madame Rosmerta gave a wry smile as she saw the three of you approach, she gestured over into the far corner where a single man sat nursing a tumbler of a russet looking liquid. You quirked an eyebrow as the man cheerfully lifted his glass to the three witches in welcome, Pomona nearly squealed with excitement as she bounced over to him. Minerva, who remained in her spot groaned. “Is there to be no reprieve?”

  Remus gestured to the three empty seats at his table with a wide smile. You shook your head in disbelief as you slowly sank into the waiting chair opposite him. He looked far better than he had done earlier that evening, he seemed to have bathed and shaved and appeared rather pleasant looking as he waved to Rosmerta and mimed a bottle and four glasses.   “Ladies, what a most welcome surprise!” Remus grinned wolfishly, his face seemed perfectly amiable, but his eyes glistened with something else, a glee that betrayed a thought that maybe their flirtation wasn’t as innocent as you previously had thought.   “If I’d have known you were coming Remus, I would have worn my good hat!” Pomona said with a smile, her cheeks rosy from the chill outside.   “You look positively radiant, Pomona.” Remus crooned; the plump witch’s face alight with the warmth of the compliment. She pat Remus’ hand affectionately and readily accepted the glass that was placed in front of her. “Allow me.” Remus poured two fingers of firewhisky into the three empty glasses and raised his own in a toast. “To unexpected meetings.” The sound of the clinking of glass reverberated through your body, his fingers electric against yours as they touched in a fleeting moment. Your breath hitched in your throat, it shocked you how your cheeks began to warm, and your stomach began to do small flips. Remus’ eyes, now more golden than green never left your face as if in silent appraisal of his effect on you. He seemed satisfied with the reaction as he smirked into his glass and allowed his attention to be captured by Minerva as she asked about his leave of absence.

  It wasn’t until your return journey to the castle that Remus initiated any further physical contact with you. The evening had passed how they usually do, the three friends exchanging stories and conspiring, laughing lots and drinking more. Now, feeling like your body was filled more with whisky than blood did Remus offer his arm to you. You took it gratefully, the two older women huddled together further ahead on the road as the snow began to fall upon the already picturesque village. With your hand in the crook of his elbow, Remus guided you over the unsteady cobbles only laughing lightly when you nearly lost your footing. His fingers found yours and although this could be perceived as a perfectly practical way in ensuring your safety, his touch seemed to burn your skin; it sent heat right the way through you. You were sure your heartbeat was audible to him, as it pounded aggressively in your ears as you moved closer into him, his torso flush with yours. You snuck a glance under your eyelashes up into the face of Remus Lupin, famed friend of two dead men and a mass murderer. His scars were silver in the moonlight, his face calm he weathered the terrain. You wanted to say something, anything to him; but nothing came. Instead, you continued to allow him to guide you while you peered up at this enigma of a man.

  Minerva searched over her shoulder when you approached the school grounds, satisfied that she could see you safely behind her, she waved goodbye. The snow was falling heavily now, thick spirals of white stuck in your hair, landing on your lips and freezing you to the core. You removed your hand from Remus’ grasp and waved back, Pomona beckoning Minerva inside to the warmth, no doubt to have a nightcap in the Gryffindor mistress’ office. Alone for the first time, Remus ushered you along the path of the courtyard to the covered corridor overlooking the lake which had this week begun to thaw, although with the sudden frost this night, it seemed unlikely now.   “You were right,” Remus stated after a while, his hands wound their way to his pockets, and he lifted himself onto the balls of his feet in an attempt to gain warmth in movement. When you didn’t answer, he licked his lips. “About how informative those two are. I’ve got enough dirt on people to have my lessons covered for weeks.” He grinned again, this time you noticed, it reached his eyes. You wondered whether Remus needed this as much as you did. It’s easy to let yourself get caught up in teenage drama when you’re drowning in it, but you suspected for him it must be something more. It wasn’t your place to pry of course, and Remus didn’t offer to divulge but you felt content in having potentially done a good deed.   “I’m sure your formal invitation to join us next week will be on your desk in the morning, if Pomona has anything to do with it.” You laughed and turned your back to the lake, it seemed far easier to keep your head held up straight if you leaned against the stone wall. Remus seemed to notice this and immediately reached his arms out to steady you.   “Never mind that, looks like someone will be dropping in to see Poppy in the morning.” He retorted as he attempted to stop your swaying. You had thought that the cold might sober you up, but that mixed in with a sudden overwhelming tiredness has left you almost dead on your feet.   “That’s the beauty of teaching an elective course,” you managed to get out as Remus near pulled you along the corridors, “My timetable is pretty sparse on Fridays. No lessons until after lunch.” You said smugly. Your eyes were fully closed now, if you were able and alone, you probably could have just set up camp here on the floor and been perfectly comfortable. But alas, Remus pushed onwards.

  A distant miaow stopped you dead in your tracks, Remus fumbled with his footing and slammed into the wall. He cursed and rubbed his arm absently as he peered at your stricken face, he attempted to talk but you held up a finger to stop him.   “Mrs. Norris.” You whispered gravely. Remus looked bemused as he looked both ways along the corridor.   “I think the coast is clear,” he whispered equally as seriously, he took your hand and squeezed it tightly urging you onwards.   “Filch once made me clean every toilet in every girl’s bathroom in my sixth year.” You shuddered at the memory, no wand just a pair of pink rubber gloves and a mouldy toilet brush.   “Blimey, what did you do?” You pondered whether to tell him the truth, that Filch had caught you on the edge of the Forbidden Forest after curfew with Gilderoy Lockheart. You would never forget the look of abject horror on the boy’s face as Filch emerged from the trees waving a lantern wildly whilst Lockheart’s hand was quite firmly in your knickers.   “Got caught with a boy.” You mumbled instead not meeting his eyes, Lockheart had been a numpty in school and even bigger one when he left by all accounts, but it was nasty business that led to Remus filling the position at Hogwarts. You had tried hard to suppress the fleeting dalliance you had shared with Lockheart, teenagers and their bloody hormones you had chalked it up to.   “Happens to the best of us,” Remus said brightly, “Your chamber is down here, isn’t it?” You hadn’t noticed that Remus had managed to escort you nearly to your door, you smiled at him gratefully.   “Yes, thank you,” You broke away from him and held on to the wall for support, your legs nearly giving way. “Woah-”   “Let me just-” Remus mumbled, more to himself than to you, you imagined. He placed an arm on the small of your back and guided you down the dimly lit corridor. Your fingers felt the cold stone give way to the wood of your chamber door and you fumbled for the handle, suddenly anxious of the man stood very close to you. That; turned out to be a very sobering thought. Was Remus expecting to be invited inside? It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to come inside, you had spent the last however long quietly being affected by every small touch, every slightly lingering look- but surely you were far too drunk to be engaging in anything other than sleep, surely, he would understand that. That wasn’t to say there wasn’t a part of you that wanted nothing more than to invite Remus inside and take him into your bed. He was a large man, tall and well built. Your eyes raked down his body and returned to his face. You felt a familiar throbbing between your legs in want, as you squeezed your thighs together.   “I would…I would normally-” You began, it was Remus’ turn to hold a hand up to stop you. He brushed his fingers across your bottom lip, this small gesture elicited a soft moan from you. His green-golden eyes now dark as he brought his face impossibly close to yours.   “Just a kiss…may I?” He breathed, you nodded slowly, utterly entranced by this intriguing man. Remus dropped his head down and gently pressed his lips to yours. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, it wasn’t a kiss filled with longing, but it felt completely natural and comforting that in that moment this particular man would be kissing you.

  “I would say I’m surprised, but I would of course, be lying.” A snide voice in the distance shattered this perfect moment in an instant. You turned your head in the direction of the voice and saw Severus stood, wand raised in Lumos and a small bottle covered in hemp cloth in his free hand.   “Severus.” Remus breathed; it wasn’t a greeting. There was an edge to his voice that made you think that it was a warning. You looked between the two men slightly confused, but on the whole far too tired to distinguish what on earth was happening. “Can I help you with something?” Severus merely shrugged and then held out his hand allowing you to get a good look at the cloth covered bottle. It was fairly large but must have been quite delicate to be wrapped so securely.   “For you.” Severus said disinterestedly. He waited; his arm still outstretched for Remus to move away from you. The chill of the wind that wound its way throughout the castle walls hit you immediately in the absence of Remus’ body heat. You shrunk as far as you could into the door, suddenly embarrassed to have been caught. Severus continued to stare at Remus until you cleared your throat to break the silence. It felt like hours, although it can’t have been more than a few seconds. Remus pocketed the bottle carefully and turned his back to the potions master, he looked at you earnestly.   “I had a really good time tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asked, he looked hopeful and yet there was something else in his expression. Like he was annoyed to have been interrupted, or perhaps he was annoyed that he had kissed you in the first place.   “Yeah,” you replied, your voice slightly strained. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Remus nodded at you and began to walk back the way you had come, his short cloak flowing behind him until he entered the darkness, and you couldn’t see him anymore. You turned toward your chamber door and noticed Severus was still there, his wand raised to the same level of your face. His brow furrowed in an expression you would take as concern in anybody else, but with Severus you couldn’t be sure.   “Do you require any assistance?” He said curtly, his voice was low, but you could almost imagine it was soft.   “No thank you, Severus. I think I’ll manage from here.” Your fingers once again found the handle and you turned it with ease, the door opened to reveal your dark chamber. Severus waved his wand once into the blackness, and every candle within your rooms flickered into life. You turned to him with a wry smile and thanked him. Before you could close the door on this bizarre exchange with Severus Snape, he placed a hand on your arm. You looked down at where his body made contact with yours curiously, his long fingers seemed to wrap around your wrist perfectly and a small thrill fluttered down your back as he squeezed.   “Be careful around Lupin,” Severus whispered, “He’s never been one for controlling his…urges.” You arched an eyebrow and looked up into the onyx eyes that peered thoughtfully into your own.   “And you?” You had no idea what made you say that. Instant repulsion at yourself slithered over your skin as you mentally kicked yourself. Interestingly though, Severus licked his lips as he considered his answer. Your heartbeat quickened in anticipation of what he would say, his face drawn close enough to yours to feel his breath on your face. It was impossible to not stare at the man’s lips, they were so close to yours after all. Another jolt of need spread between your legs, you stifled the moan that threatened to escape as Severus backed you against the cold stone wall.   “I have no issues with control. I expect nothing less than…total control in every aspect of my life.” With that, Severus turned on his heel and with three quick strides, you were alone.

Fuck.

You undressed quickly climbed hastily into bed. Your heart pounded quickly in your chest, as the knot of arousal that you had felt as soon as you had arrived at your chamber door became too difficult to ignore. Usually, if you would pleasure yourself, it would be an entire affair. An act of self-love, a hot bath, envisioning the perfect scenario but now, as you plunged your hand into your sopping underwear, none of that mattered. It was impossible not to think about the taste of Remus still on your lips as you rubbed frantic circles on your clitoris, your back arched, your mouth fell open as you moaned. As quick as the image of Remus had entered your mind, it was replaced with the memory of Severus’ firm grasp of you, the way he had manhandled you into submission. You balled the sheets in your fingers as you inserted one, then two fingers into your aching centre. Reaching up to your breasts, you rolled a stiffened nipple around your nimble fingers, squeezing it as you filled your cunt to the knuckle. You moaned with abandon, which presumably was the effect from the alcohol, but nevertheless, you fucked yourself thoroughly with your fingers. When you came, you cried out incoherently, a sound you had never heard yourself make before. You couldn’t picture one mans face over the other, imagining spilling their seed over your breasts, or deep inside you- you imagined both of them at once. It was sublime.

  The next seven days passed without incident. Remus wasn’t so much distant as perhaps guarded; there was no mention of the kiss you had shared, nor the strange pseudo-altercation between he and Severus. You pondered long hours in your warm chamber, the fire roared contentedly casting shadows that danced across the high walls. The mug of tea in your hand a reminder of home, your muggle parents had sent you a box of teabags for Christmas as part as a larger ‘care package’. Your mother had laughed when she handed you a largeish box filled with things like tea and crisps, you had even found some alcoholic miniatures and sweets from your youth tucked away at the very bottom. She had given you a smirk and said, ‘Sometimes magic can be found in the ordinary,’. You eyed the box carefully; it was incredibly thoughtful, and you relished it fervently. There was nothing you enjoyed more than curling up on your hardbacked armchair in front of the fire and rummaging through to be delighted in the muggle comforts from home.

  You had taken a Curly Wurly into the staff room that afternoon and nibbled on it idly as you mulled over a few student essays. Severus had entered with his usual flurry of dark robes and general unpleasantness and settled quietly into a corner. You hadn’t so much as looked in his direction since that night outside of your chamber, and he hadn’t looked at you either. That was, until you lifted your eyes to check the sizable grandfather clock, its pendulum swinging ominously on the second and found he was openly staring at you. His jaw was firmly set, and his brow furrowed once more. After a second, he blinked, like he had surprised himself by something akin to mild vulnerability. You followed his gaze, it wasn’t on you specifically, but on the long chocolate bar in your hand. You looked from your grasp to Severus’ face, he too seemed to shift his expression to meet your eyes, a fleeting sheepishness danced across his face as he swallowed with difficultly.   “I haven’t seen one of those in years,” Severus stated, his hands were clasped tightly in his lap. You brought the chocolate to your lips and took a bite, the caramel of the intricately woven design pulled away in long strands. You licked at the excess that settled on your lips, you watched with amusement as veins protruded in Severus’ neck. It was quite easy to forget that Severus himself was a half-blood, dragged rather than brought up in the muggle world.   “You’ve been missing out.” You replied quietly as you crossed your legs. Severus shifted in his seat, his robes flowed fluidly around him, a vision in black and white. The back of your neck seemed to warm as Severus’ dark eyes scoured your frame, his angular face could be dismissed as unappealing, but he had the stoicism of an innate marble statue, a roman god or some other. The closer you looked, and really looked, it was impossible to see him as anything other than he was, captivating. Severus seemed to notice the shift in your stature, the way your fingers tightened around the papers you still clung on to, the way the parchment bent and swayed under your gentle trembling.   “Perhaps I have.” He said darkly.

  That night, before you made your way to meet with Minerva and Pomona for your weekly outing you made a diversion toward the dungeons. Tucked neatly under your arm, was a brown padded envelope, usually suited for sending packages on long journeys. Instead, it was full to the brim of chocolate from your care package, all the things you knew you loved as a child that you imagined Severus would have enjoyed too. Your hand shook slightly as you knocked on the door to his office, it wasn’t particularly late, but you noted that he hadn’t made an appearance at dinner. When no sound came from the office, you gently pushed the door open. The room was as to be expected, dark and filled almost to bursting of various tomes and artefacts. You crossed the room hurriedly, anxious to not get caught out of bounds. You tried explicitly hard not to pry as you crossed over to Severus’ desk, it was surprisingly neat and left everything to the imagination. You placed the envelope on the desk, ensuring that the little note was safe inside before quickly turning and leaving it behind you.

  Remus hadn’t joined you that Friday, it was just the usual suspects. You had found it increasingly difficult to focus on the conversation that flowed freely between the two women. Your mind wandered back to two main thoughts; where was Remus and what was actually going on? And why Severus had suddenly deigned you worthy of his attention? It all seemed so impossibly twee; the idea that you found yourself rattled by the slightest attention of two men that you were almost angry at yourself. Besides, how many times had you crawled out of a stranger’s bed at the first wisps of daybreak? One little kiss shouldn’t be any different. Severus on the other hand hadn’t offered you anything more than a few long looks since that afternoon in the staff room, yet you were plagued with thoughts of the two men. Neither like any man you had encountered before, and yet so remarkably different in every way. Minerva, having noticed your long silence offered you a quizzical look.   “What’s troubling you?” She said pointedly, Pomona ceased talking immediately, and turned to face you with a look one could only describe as hunger. You shrugged and took a sip of your wine; you were desperate to not be as hungover this Friday. Your seventh years had proven to be quite difficult last week, and if you could do anything to not have a repeat of Jenkinson’s smart mouth affecting you so; you would. “Don’t presume to think I was born yesterday,” Minerva continued, her shoulders squared which made her look that inch more terrifying, “I can smell a rat a mile off.”    “I wouldn’t dare jump to any such conclusions. I am simply lamenting over my love-life, or lack thereof.” You replied, your expression sickly sweet which earned a maternal huff from the older woman. Pomona seemed to miss the small tete-a-tete and instead clapped her hands together with glee.   “I demand you tell us everything at once!”

  There was something of a comfort to be found in relaying the past week’s events to the witches, Minerva’s usually stern expression shifted into something softer as you told them everything except for the strange bottle Severus had delivered to Remus.   “Well, that is definitely something different,” she said after small silence, “Especially coming from Severus. I was beginning to think he didn’t have any manly urges.”   “Nonsense, Severus is a strapping young lad, nobody knows what he gets up to outside of the castle. I imagine two old biddies like us would certainly be the last to find out, in any case!” Pomona countered, she rested her chin against her palm, her face dreamlike as if imagining the brooding man’s sex life.   “And quite rightly so!” Minerva said, her tone was laced with embarrassed threat as she stood from the table and marched toward the door. And so, nothing more was said on the matter that night.

  The Saturday morning after your thankfully not-so-disastrous Friday lessons with your seventh years passed idly. You kept much to yourself, the weather was again near freezing, although most of the students had travelled into Hogsmeade. The castle was quiet, undisturbed, and as the next thick sheet of snow settled onto the grounds, you huddled close to your window to watch as in quick flurries the snowflakes settled onto a blanket of pure white. It wasn’t until the third knock at your door did you decide to stop pretending you weren’t in, whoever was on the other side was obviously very insistent and you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself if there was an emergency. On the other side of the door stood a cheerful Remus, his hair was damp from the snow and his cheeks painted with pink from the chill. He looked every inch the dashing English countryman as he brushed stray snowflakes from his shoulders. You couldn’t explain the quickness of your heart as you invited him inside, the same thunderous heartbeat you had experienced that night in Hogsmeade returned in full force, and you cursed yourself for feeling so foolish.   “To what do I owe the pleasure?” You asked as calmly as you could as you summoned a teapot and a pair of mugs. Remus accepted the tea readily and wasted no time in settling close to the fire.   “I was on my way for a walk to the lake, and I wondered whether you wanted to join me?” It was hard to imagine that he held any ulterior motives as he reclined in your armchair, all red nosed and grins. It was alarming how quickly you agreed, despite taking no real pleasure from walking in the cold. Yet, you soon found yourself wrapped up warmly and struggling to keep pace with the tall man as he dodged expertly over the terrain. He was largely silent as you continued along the path to the lake, he offered a few beige commentaries on the weather and you responded with as much enthusiasm as you could muster. It was difficult, you found, to keep pace with the tall man. Remus’ long legs set his pace at twice the speed of yours, and after a while of trying to conceal your breathlessness, did he slow and offer his arm to you. You huddled close to him, it seemed as though his body radiated a warmth like an oasis in the desert. Remus untangled his arm from yours, instead deciding to hold your gloved hand instead; his fingers squeezed tightly around yours as the lake came into view. A few students littered the area in small groups, the sound of their merriment was enough to bring a smile to your face. It seemed like yesterday that you yourself were a student at Hogwarts; thirty was an ever-approaching nightmare that plagued your dreams daily, had it really been nearly thirteen years since you left the hallowed halls of Hogwarts and joined Gringotts as an apprentice Curse-Breaker?   “Penny for your thoughts?” Remus said, you glanced up at him, he wore a bemused look as you pushed the settled snow from a bench and delicately sat. Foolish as it was, seeing as now you were piss-wet through, the realisation that you were getting old had knocked you for six. Remus patted the seat next to you tentatively before he ultimately decided to join you.   “Do you ever feel like your life just runs away from you? Like one minute, you’re positively frazzled over Transfiguration homework and the next you’re stressed about how you’re going to afford so many weddings this year because suddenly, you’ve reached an age where everyone’s settling down and shitting out kids!” You bit hard on the inside of your cheek, you hadn’t meant to be so forward, certainly not with Remus, but he let out a great big laugh before turning to you animatedly.   “Exactly! It feels like I was just handed my Prefect badge and now-” He faltered; his gaze lifted to the heavens. A flash of pain danced across Remus’ face as he shook his head and swallowed whatever he was going to say. “I don’t remember you much from school.” You were surprised by that; you didn’t expect him to remember you at all; but you expected him to want to save face as you were colleagues.   “I’m not surprised, you had long left before I did anything interesting.” You said as you playfully bumped into his shoulder with your own.   “Ah yes, you mentioned the other night that Filch had caught you with a boy?” Remus’ raised the pitch of his voice as he tormented you, it was his turn to bump you. You covered your eyes with your hands and let out a great groan.   “Merlin, I’d hoped you would have forgotten that.”   “Not on your life. Now, I’m going to need you to tell me all the sordid details.”   “There’s nothing sordid…well, not that sordid, really,” You protested, you couldn’t stop the grin that formed on your lips, it was matched well with the smile that Remus wore. He gazed at you intently as you considered the best way to explain. “Filch caught me in the Forbidden Forest after curfew-”   “With a boy.”   “Yes, Remus, with a boy.” You sighed with faux exasperation; Remus looked near giddy as he clapped his hands.   “Fantastic, who were they? Do I know them? What were you doing?” He asked, each question filled you with feeling of stupidity, it was the single most mortifying moment of your life and you were willingly discussing it.   “Yes, you know them, and we were having an…intimate moment.” You hoped that would be enough to quell his questioning, but it appeared to only spur Remus on he appeared to be bouncing in his seat now.   “Please don’t make me go through a list of people from your year at school, what were you- three years younger than us?”   “Four.” You corrected. Remus seemed to consider this for a moment before his green eyes seemed to darken, and he smirked devilishly.   “I’ll tell you what. If I can guess who the lucky bloke was, you have to come for a drink with me. Tonight.   “And if you can’t?”   “I’m sure you’ll think of an appropriate forfeit.” Remus had brought his face extremely close to yours, you could feel his breath tickle your face. It would be so easy to close the distance, to press your lips to his, but a chorus of whooping from behind where the pair of you sat, shattered any illusions of intimacy. Remus turned toward the students sheepishly, he produced his wand and cast a spell that shook the trees which surrounded the lake, causing a cascade of snow to fall on the students. He stood and offered you his hand.   “Let me escort you back to your rooms, while I think. What house was he in?” He said, and you thought back to the wavy-haired blonde boy who tried to desperately hard to impress.   “Ravenclaw.”   “Hm. That slims the pickings down a bit.”

    Remus still hadn’t been able to guess correctly and when he was confident that he would need more time, he proposed a 24-hour extension. You had pushed him along the corridor with a laugh and a wave, fairly certain that he would ultimately find out about Lockheart, but the look of mischief on his face as he waved in return was such a far cry from the man that shuffled into dinner a week ago, you couldn’t help but be content. With almost a wistful air, you watched as he disappeared behind the corner until you turned to your chamber door. If it hadn’t been for your wet boots squelching heavily onto the stone floor, you would have entirely missed the folded parchment that lay slightly soggy having been thrust under the door in an apparent hurry. You took time to remove your outer layers, kicking your boots off and discarding them where you stood before you retrieved the parchment. You felt a heat rise from the base of your neck all the way up to your ears as instantly, you recognised the fluid handwriting etched across the page.

    I humbly thank you for your thoughtful offering. In return, I request your presence of a nightcap in my quarters this evening after dinner. The password is ‘tradite’, I shall expect you before nine o’clock.

Severus

    Keeping your head down during dinner was proving to be more difficult than you had initially imagined. You didn’t know what had possessed you, but underneath a billowy cloak was a figure-hugging-in-all-the-right-places muggle dress, it showed off your best assets yet left enough to the imagination. It was something you wouldn’t think twice about wearing if you were to go out with your muggle friends from your hometown, but here, amongst these wizards whose fashion choices were questionable at best, you felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb. You wondered if anyone would notice how closely you tugged the fabric of your cloak around your torso, desperate to hide what lay beneath. Remus certainly noticed there was something off with you, he had made an obvious beeline to the empty seat next to you and had tried to engage you in conversation many times, but the truth was plain as day; you felt guilty.

  Not even twelve hours ago had you been sat by the lake with Remus, and now with one invitation from Severus you were jittering like a schoolgirl who’d been asked to meet behind the quidditch stands. It wasn’t clear what it was about Severus exactly that returned you to a puddle of hormones, but you felt it as soon as you had been reintroduced as colleagues all those years later. Yet, hadn’t you felt that with Remus too? After replying to the sandy-haired man for the fourth time that you were fine, just tired, you grimaced into your bread-and-butter pudding. There was something about Severus’ invitation that triggered an excited itch along your skin, and only he would know how to scratch it. There was of course, the obvious question of what on earth constituted at a nightcap? Was he going to give you another warning about Remus? What about Remus? You hadn’t even considered what Severus had meant by his warning, you certainly hadn’t heard any stories about him being a womanizer, or ever having a partner for that matter. You pondered his scars as you tried, as deftly as you could, to get a good look at him from the corner of your eye. Remus was littered with them, whilst the scars across his face were quite pronounced, there weren’t many. But- the scars on his hands and forearms were numerous, there didn’t seem to be an inch of skin without a purple-silver line looking back at you. Maybe he was a fighter? He had played his part in the war, like you all had, but maybe his was a part that was especially dangerous? Perhaps, that’s what Severus meant after all. War changes people, Severus of all people should remember that.

  That didn’t stop you feeling guilty though. It ravaged away at your insides as you continued to push your spoon around your bowl, you had thought that perhaps after this morning, there was an avenue worth exploring with Remus. Now, as you watched Severus rise from the High Table and move stealthily along the lines of teachers, your stomach flipped, and your pulse quickened.   “Lupin.” Severus nodded as he passed, he didn’t say anything in acknowledgement to you, but you noticed the glance in your direction, the slight quirk at the side of his mouth. Soon, Severus had disappeared, and Remus scoffed.   “Boils my piss, he does,” he said as he took a hearty sip of his mead, the veins in his temple protruding slightly. “Lording over us like that, dickhead.” You were quite taken aback by Remus’ outburst; you had never known animosity between them before or since that night outside of your rooms. Nothing had been said, and you had put it down to you having had one to many and misconstruing the situation.   “He literally said your name.” You countered, not completely comfortable with Remus’ tone.   “Aye, and I want my name kept from his mouth, the greasy git.” You opened your mouth to respond yet thought better of it. Whatever it was that had transpired between the pair of them had nothing to do with you, and you couldn’t think of anything worse than having to pick sides. Especially since Severus had now taken an interest in you, something you had tried to make happen when you first started teaching but failed miserably. It was happening now, and Remus could be damned if you weren’t at least going to get to the bottom of this invitation.

  You didn’t bother to wait for the headmaster to call an end to dinner, instead you mumbled an excuse and moved quickly toward the dungeons. Despite having been a teacher for a number of years, there was something about the dungeons that filled you with dread. Whether it was the memories of your sheer mediocrity at potions, or consistently failing to be noticed by Professor Slughorn, there was something that set your teeth on edge. You passed your old potions classroom without looking in, it was almost like you could forget that that class existed, and pretend that of course, you were excellent at everything whilst you were at school. Severus’ rooms were hidden to anyone who wasn’t looking for them, a dark wooden door appeared out of the near blackness of the unlight stone and remained closed. Did you really want to do this? You had wrestled with the fact that you were potentially pissing any chance of anything happening with Remus while you pursued Severus. There was just something very hard to ignore about the potions master, something electrifying.   “Tradite.” You said clearly into the darkness, the click of a lock being turned was the only sound other than the distant almost muffled sound of the groaning lake. The door opened steadily, Severus’ chamber was warm, although, you weren’t quite sure if you were expecting the opposite. He stood with his back to the door, his head bowed and seemingly unaware of your arrival. You wondered whether he would appreciate a polite greeting; if he would want you to wait until he noticed you. After all, he had mentioned that he liked to have control in everything. That was a statement you had never questioned, it just seemed so perfectly fitting that you just took it at face value. It was the thoughts that were conjured alongside that, that you had to suppress.

  You weren’t entirely sure how long you waited, realistically, it couldn’t have been that long. But the steady stream of student’s footsteps returning to their common room was an indicator that it had probably been around five minutes.   “Why haven’t you said anything?” Severus asked after a while. It shocked you, you had completely glazed over, it hadn’t occurred to you that you were still just stood in the doorway. You cleared your throat.   “Didn’t want to disturb you.”   “How thoughtful.” He sneered, but you didn’t detect any malice behind it. Severus Snape was the undisputed king of dry humour and you willed that to be the case here. “Come in. Take off your cloak.” You did as you were bid, slipping the dark cloak from your shoulders, you allowed Severus to take it from you. You were acutely aware of his eyes on your body as he moved with a deft quietness and gestured for you to sit. His rooms, not so dissimilar to yours in layout were far larger and by comparison, full wall to wall with things. It wasn’t untidy, but a sort of organised chaos that endeared Severus to you. His interests and objects of his taste scattered almost peacefully, as if inviting you to take a look. You settled into the armchair by the fire, the fabric a worn Slytherin green leather which matched the sofa which sat opposite. The fire, which was still quite small spat embers behind the wrought hearth and sizzled contentedly to itself.   “Would you like some wine?” He asked from somewhere behind, “I have a lovely Pinot Noir.”   “That would be lovely, thank you.” You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being scrutinised, it wasn’t unlike the feeling of an interview; like he was somehow sizing you up. Although you couldn’t see him from where you were situated, the intense feel of eyes burning into the back of your head was unmistakable. Perhaps it was your intuition as a woman that allowed you to know that as you crossed one leg over the other and placed your hands elegantly on the armrests of the chair, that he noticed. But not only that, that he appreciated it.

  Severus made you wait for it. You heard him as he opened and closed cupboard doors, the clink of glass and the sound of a bottle being corked; it was all for the theatre of anticipation. You knew this, you had done this very thing time and time again in preparation but for what, with him- you couldn’t quite say. The same thrill that you had felt that night he had grasped your wrist returned fervently and your mouth salivated with need. Finally, he appeared within your line of sight. He too, had removed his outer layer, dressed smartly in his frock coat he lowered a glass half full of the ruby liquid, tapping his glass on the side of yours with cheers. Severus made his way painfully slowly to the sofa, he sat on the edge furthest from you and mirrored your position, one leg crossed neatly over the other. You hoped your proximity to the fire would account for the flush on your cheeks as you regarded this man, this studious and distant man as he considered your frame just as openly.   “Thank you for the invitation, Severus. I must admit, it was most unexpected.” Your voice was calm and unbroke, and you were thankful for it. Your heart thundered in your chest and you hoped upon hope that he couldn’t notice the slight tremble of your hand as you brought your wine glass to your lips. Upon reflection, talking with Remus was much easier than with Severus. There was just something so typically wholesome about him, which, when you remembered what he had been like as a young man in school seemed to make sense. But with Severus, there was something akin to danger, you didn’t necessarily feel like he would harm you, no- not at all; but there was always an edge to his words, a double meaning behind his looks. Like there was a joke that perhaps you didn’t understand, perhaps another meaning entirely.   “You’re very welcome. I wanted to thank you personally for your kindness.” He said, his dark baritone seemed most fitting within the confines of his personal space. Like suddenly all the pieces fit together and of course Severus would look and sound the way he did, wasn’t it obvious? “May I ask what you are thinking about? You wear a look of great consideration.” You smiled as demurely as you could muster at his questioning, why were you there if not to talk?   “I was thinking about you.” You said as plainly as you could, you were conscious not to give anything away in terms of exactly how you were thinking of the potions master. But in truth, it had been impossible not to think about him. Remus too. It appeared to be in the space of only a few days that any time you found your mind wandering, it wandered to these two men. Who they were exactly under the sturdy mask of professionalism, what they liked; did they like you?   “Me? Why?”   “I was thinking how nice it was to see you so relaxed, Severus.” You replied softly, you meant it too. A silence settled between the pair of you, and you wondered if you had overstepped the mark, whether that was too informal for his liking. Severus carefully wet his lips and pressed them together into a line. His usual measured look replaced with something else.   “If I may so bold-”   “I like bold.” He smirked as you interrupted him, you wished for him to say whatever it was that was on his mind. You longed to know whether you had consumed his thoughts as much as he had consumed yours.   “If I may be so bold,” Severus began again, his fingers tapping lightly on his thigh, drawing your attention briefly away from his angular face. You noticed for the first time how well structured his body was, his thighs were well proportioned to the width of his torso and seemed to fill his trousers pleasantly. “There’s nothing like a nice glass of wine and the view of a pretty girl to relax you.” He sipped his wine, his eyes never leaving your face. You hoped your expression didn’t betray how startled you felt. It was like your mind was blank, you had forgotten how to blink, how to breathe, just for a moment; you were malfunctioning.   “You think I’m pretty?” Severus smirked at you.   “I think you’re beautiful.”

  You sat in silence after that. Every fibre of your being was screaming at you to say something, to thank him for his compliment, to comment on the wine- anything. Instead, you stared uneasily into the fire, annoyed with yourself.   “Have I made you uncomfortable?” Severus asked breaking the silence, your head whipped in his direction. His expression seemed passive, but you noticed the slight downwards tilt of his mouth, as if he were to frown.   “Not in the slightest!” You said hastily, you set your wine onto the floor and clasped your hands in your lap. “I suppose I wasn’t expecting you to say something like that. It just caught me off-guard.” Severus barked a laugh in response and patted the sofa next to him, you rose quickly and moved across to him. You cursed yourself for appearing needy, eager to please, but the look of satisfaction on Severus’ face spoke volumes. He was pleased with you, and that made your insides flutter with warmth. He placed a hand tentatively on your knee as you sat down, you gasped at the contact, but his hand was warm and soft against your bare skin.   “You look radiant, this evening.” Severus hummed over the rim of his wine glass. There was something hypnotic about his movements, you watched with a desperate intensity as he did the most mundane things, like swill his glass or flick a piece of fluff from his jacket. This wizard had well and truly put a spell on you, and you were at his mercy.   “Thank you,” you answered after a while of staring at Severus. His bemused expression signalled that he knew exactly what was racing through your thoughts. “Did you enjoy your Curly Wurlys?” Severus really laughed at that, he placed the hand that had previously been held on your knee over his eyes and smiled. A rare and beautiful thing indeed, Severus’ Snape’s smile.   “I was most impressed by the assortment, things I had forgotten long about. It was very kind of you,” He stopped as if he needed to be careful with what he said next, “I wanted to repay you.”   “Your company is payment enough, Severus.”

It wasn’t until his hand reappeared this time on your thigh, that you noticed that you had turned your body toward him. Your leg slightly bent at the knee tucked under the other, your hips fully locked on the target.   “I had hoped you would say that.” Severus whispered, “I apologise if I’ve ever appeared standoffish toward you, I find it difficult to engage in small talk. I just don’t see the necessity.” You weren’t sure if he was allowing you to see some vulnerability, or whether he was just stating a fact, but you nodded your head all the same. “The truth is,” He continued, “I had always thought you were quite interesting. Even whilst we were students, you were fiercely kind and dare I say it, popular.”   “You remember me? I didn’t think that anybody would have ever taken any notice of me- back then at least. I was just a nobody.” You said softly as you offered Severus a smile. You were touched that he remembered you, or at least professed to. Its more than Remus could say for himself.   “So was I.” Severus statement stopped you in your tracks. It was no secret that he was mercilessly bullied in school, everybody knew of Snivellus. But, he was right, did anybody actually know him? You nodded in agreement, and he offered you a small smile, his hand giving your thigh a small squeeze.   “Does this mean we’re friends now?” You asked in a small voice, it was meant as a joke but the sentiment remained.   “I don’t have friends. Only allies and enemies.” Severus answered with another sip of wine. You swept your gaze over his face, finally settling on his onyx eyes, the way they bore into yours made you feel as if you were aflame.   “Which am I?”   “Neither. You are you. One couldn’t ask for anything better.”

  Severus slowly brought his lips to yours; his lips were soft and gentle as you shifted to gain a better purchase of his frame. Your hands travelled from his chest to his head, your fingers winding round the raven tresses of hair and he gasped into your mouth. He pulled you closer and as skilfully as you could, you straddled him- Severus hands firmly planted on your backside. He rubbed confident circles against the soft fabric, and you rolled your hips against his lap. It was delicious; the feeling of friction on your cunt was entirely welcome. It had been quite a while before it had seen any attention from anyone other than your own hand, the resigned feeling you had regarding the hold Severus had on you changed in to one of complete and utter want. He brought a hand up and cupped your breast through your dress, you hissed at the contact and Severus took advantage of the loss of your lips and began to kiss deeply along the side of your throat, taking sections of skin between his teeth and sucking hard. You were quite insistent in your actions, unabashedly grinding against Severus’ hardened cock. You could feel it, the way it strained against the fabric of his trousers. You couldn’t help the pathetic mewl that escaped your lips as Severus began to guide your hips, his lips turned into a snarl as with heavy lids he watched as you brought yourself to orgasm.   “Beautiful.” He whispered, lifting a lock of your hair and placing it behind your shoulder where he liberally placed kisses.

  Panting, you brought his lips to yours. Your hands fumbled down to where the clasp of his trousers was easily undone despite your trembling hands. He lifted his hips whilst you momentarily dismounted him to pull his trousers and underwear to his knees. His cock, thick and pink bobbed angrily against his pubic bone, almost as if it demanded your attention. You pressed forward again, your lips finding his with ease as he positioned you back over his lap, his cock pressed against your wetness. With a gruff murmur, your underwear was vanished and you groaned with anticipation. It was impossible to say where your moan began and his finished, but as Severus guided himself into you. You heard an unmistakable “Fuck,” against your shoulder, his grip was vice-like as with a great amount of effort you lifted your hips and began to ride him. It was probably naïve of you to assume that Severus would let you set the pace, after a few seconds of a disjointed rhythm, Severus held you in place; his hips pistoning up into your sopping sex like it was the last thing he’d ever do. You held tight to the back of the sofa, the pleasure was immeasurable, though your eyes were closed, a searing white light seemed to envelop you.   “So fucking tight. I knew you would be.”

  You had never been fucked like this before, this sort of desperate rutting was something you assumed only happened in films where the lovers would be separated by war or ruin. Not, as you found out, by the loner potions professor. It was exhilarating, the feeling of his member pounding into you, the way the slight curve of his cock seemed to grace every spot inside you, it didn’t seem possible to reach any deeper within you; but as he pushed you backwards away from his chest, he burrowed himself further in still.   “Oh god, you’re going to make me come.” You managed to say, his thrusts were short and sharp and quite unrelenting. His brow was furrowed and a sheen of sweat glistened on his skin in the candlelight. He snarled at you then and tossed you to the side, your back landing onto the sofa with a thud. Your cry of shock came out strangled as no sooner had he withdrawn from you, he delved right back into your aching cunt.   “If I’m going to make you come,” Severus grunted, his hand around your throat, “Then you’re going to look me in the eye while I do it. I want to see your face as you come all over my cock.” You shivered under the weight of the sheer eroticism of his words. The feeling of his hand on your pressure point was blissful, being so utterly at another’s mercy wasn’t like anything you had experienced before. It was freeing, purifying…you loved it.

   The tight coil in the pit of your stomach began to unfurl, as with raspy moans, you came hard. Your orgasm seemed to last an eternity, your body rocking with the motion of Severus’ thrusting but also with the throbbing and twitching your used cunt. Severus’ hand squeezed tightly around your throat as he came, his movements becoming shallower and slower. He collapsed onto you in a heap, his head on your chest and your arms around him unquestioningly. You stayed like that for a while, your eyes closed as you blissfully travelled from alert to sleep and back, tracing lazy circles on Severus’ back. It was Severus who moved first in the end, he grappled for his jacket and produced his wand, he pointed it at you and muttered a spell you didn’t understand. But the sudden feeling of dryness and warmth that flooded between your thighs, you safely assumed he had cleaned you. You pushed up from your spot warily, sheepishly almost. Severus was across the room from you now, rebuttoning his clothes and smoothing down his hair. You watched him for a while, your head cocked to the side. Severus seemed to move in such a graceful yet detached way, his movements were precise, but it was clear that he was thinking about anything but the action. You wondered what he was thinking about now.   “Can I help clear up?” Severus’ head shot in your direction, he offered you a strained smile as you waited for his reply. He gathered your cloak and held it out for you to slip on. Did that mean he wanted you to go? After everything that just happened? Wordlessly, you slid your arms into the waiting holes and stood. For what exactly, you couldn’t be sure.

   “I have a prior engagement,” he said flatly, you tried not to look shocked, but you suspected you failed. “I’m sorry, are you well?”   “Quite. Thank you, Severus.” Was all that you said, as with cheeks flaming with embarrassment you willed your legs to push onwards toward the door. If he called after you, you didn’t notice as with laborious steps you made your way back to your chamber. The castle was deathly quiet now, even the ghosts had disappeared to their various dark corners for the night. This was why, when you rounded the corridor to your rooms, the lone figure waiting outside gave you a fright. Your face was still hot from the exertion of the sex and the embarrassment as Severus all but threw you out on your ear. Hot tears threatened to brim over, Merlin, why had this affected you so?

  “Remus?” You whispered into the darkness; the figure moved toward the sound of your voice. One step, and then another into the candlelight and his face was visible. He looked sallow, much like he had that night in the Great Hall.   “I’ve been knocking for ages. I was worried about you during dinner. You were acting really weird.” It was then that Remus noticed your dishevelled appearance, the marks on your neck but not least, the look of pain on your face. “Are you alright?” You nodded solemnly and made toward the door to your chamber, the guilt that had dissipated whilst you were in Severus’ presence now resurfaced as you regarded Remus’ concerned face. With your hand on the doorknob, you turned to him, all green eyed and sandy-haired Remus and smiled sadly.   “Do you want a cup of tea? I need to tell you something.”