#you do NOT put a flute in your mouth

[suguwu]

WOULD THAT I: PROLOGUE

The Gojo boy doesn't have a soulmate.

When you're both children, you overhear him being referred to as inhuman, between his power and his lack of a mark. The next time you see him, you use a marker to write your name on his skin, too young to understand what it means.

You forget, but Gojo—

Gojo never does.

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.

masterlist

pairing: gn!reader x gojo

wc: 2.6k

notes: thank you to my beta, as always! especially for putting up with my bratty ass and reading this early so i could post it earlier. this has been a fun fic to get started and i hope you enjoy the prologue!

content warnings: none. see masterlist for series content warnings.

The Gojo boy doesn’t have a soulmate.

You don’t think you’re supposed to know; it’s only ever talked about in hushed voices. The clans all speak like that, sometimes, each word a butterfly’s wing as it flutters from their mouths.

The servants, however, are louder.

One of them has a voice like a lark, a sweet, trilling song. It carries. You learn to hear her coming, to recognize her shadow against the shoji. You know the edges of her by heart. Sometimes she spreads her arms out as she makes her way through the hallway; her kimono sleeves flare out behind her like wings. 

“There’s something wrong with the Gojo heir,” she sings one afternoon, her fluting voice half-muffled by the shoji. “Those eyes of his—it’s like he can see right through you. And Fujioka says he doesn’t have a soulmark.” 

Another servant hushes her. “Don’t gossip,” she chides. 

“It’s true, though!”

“That doesn’t mean you should repeat it.” 

She huffs, grumbling something too soft for you to hear anything aside from the melody of it. The other servant laughs quietly before chivvying her forward. You watch until their shadows disappear, leaving only the hallway light to filter golden through the shoji. 

You return to your coloring book.

The Gojo boy doesn’t have a soulmate, but that doesn’t mean anything to you.

Not yet. 

—

There’s a boy in the courtyard.

He’s hopping from stone to stone in the koi pond, his snow-white hair glittering under the morning sun. He moves like a dancer, each step sure and swift, never once slipping on the wet rock. When he gets to the biggest rock in the pond, he crouches down, his back to you, and drags his fingers over the surface of the water. The koi rise to meet him, firework scales flashing in the sun. 

You watch him from the engawa, peeking out at him from behind one of the columns. You’ve never seen him before, and you’d remember him, with his starlight hair. 

“Who’re you?” he asks, not turning around.

You stay quiet.

“I know you’re there,” he says. “You can’t hide from me.”

He glances over his shoulder and the world goes blue.

It’s the cold burn of a comet’s tail streaking through the velvet night. It’s oceantide, relentless and unyielding. It’s a slice of the sky brought down to earth, heaven devoured.

Then he blinks, and he’s just a boy again. 

“Who’re you?” you ask, stepping to the edge of the engawa. 

He lifts his chin. “I asked you first.”

You introduce yourself the way your mother taught you, bowing to him shallowly. 

He scoffs. “You’re not even from the main clan.”

“Are you?”

“I’m not part of your stupid clan.”

“Oh.”

He stares at you, his crystalline eyes sharp-edged, all prismatic ice. “You don’t know who I am?”

“Nope.”

He rises to his full height, unfolding like an elegant crane. “I’m Gojo Satoru.” 

You tilt your head. The servants’ humming gossip made the Gojo heir sound ethereal, a fallen star that had burned away into human form as it plummeted through the heavens. His eyes are otherworldly, and you can feel the power rippling out from his lean form, as unstoppable as the tides, but—

“You’re just a boy,” you say. 

He scowls. “Am not.”

“Are too.” 

“I’m Gojo Satoru,” he says again, deeper this time, an intonation, a promise, a curse. His eyes flash, St. Elmo’s fire, a lightning strike of blue. “I have the Limitless and the Six Eyes. I’m not just a boy.”

You would believe him, but the last bit sounded more sulky than anything else. You’re about to tell him so when someone calls your name. You glance over your shoulder, but there are no shadows against the shoji yet.

When you turn back around, there are wet patches shining on the stones in the koi pond, an imprint of the past, but nothing else.

The Gojo boy is gone.

—

Your mother is hovering. 

She smooths down your yukata, chasing creases from the thin cotton with trembling hands. There hadn’t been time to change; she’d pulled you out of your lessons and hurried you down the hallways of the estate. 

“Bow low when you meet him,” she tells you, though she hasn’t bothered to tell you who ‘he’ is. “Understand?”

You nod. 

There’s a fine layer of sweat gleaming at your mother’s nape as she kneels before the shoji. She reaches out to open it; her kimono sleeve slips down, revealing the elegant curve of her wrist. You focus there instead of the opening shoji, the slow slide of it a hissing snake, coiled to bite.

The shoji clicks, a chime of teeth, its maw wide open. You take in a deep breath and step through, your gaze on the tatami mats. Someone shifts.

“Oh, it’s you.”

You glance up, directly into the gaze of Gojo Satoru. His eyes are as otherworldly as you remember, a crisp, clear blue framed in long lashes, like a snowy-edged mountain lake. He tilts his head as you gape, his hair gleaming bone-white in the sun streaming through the open shoji. 

You blink. “What’re you doing here?” you ask, and next to you, your mother hisses in a low, sharp breath. 

Gojo shrugs. “Dunno. The clan said I had to come and they caught me when I snuck out.”

The woman behind Gojo clears her throat. “Gojo-sama,” she says, her voice like the shivering leaves when the summer breeze stirs to life, “they’re a candidate for you to train with.” 

He eyes you. “Why?” he asks. “They’re not very strong.”

“Hey!” 

“You aren’t, though,” he says. “I can tell.”

You throw yourself at him.

His eyes widen, a devouring sea, and he grunts as you make impact. He’s sturdier than you thought; he’s slight, but it’s all lean muscle, even though he can’t be much older than you are. Your mother calls out your name, horrified, but Gojo is already recovering, grappling with you for control. 

By the time the adults pull you apart, Gojo is nursing a rapidly-purpling mark high on his cheekbone. Your split lip aches; you tongue at it and wince. You can taste blood, sour and metallic. You glare at Gojo even as your mother bows deeply to the woman.

“My deepest apologies,” she says, tightening her grip on the sleeve of your yukata and forcing you to bow with her. “I don’t know what came over them.”

The woman clicks her tongue. “The child should be punished,” she says, and your mother stiffens. “I would suggest—”

“No.” 

Everyone looks at Gojo. He thumbs at a rip in his kimono, grinning widely. It bares his teeth. 

“I’ll train with them,” he says.

“Gojo-sama—”

“I said I’d train with them. Now can we go? I want a popsicle.” 

The woman sighs. “Yes, Gojo-sama.” 

Gojo sweeps by you and your mother. He pauses right next to you. “You’re weak,” he tells you, ignoring the way you bristle, “but at least you’re fun.”  

He’s out the shoji before you can respond.

—

Summer settles over Kyoto, a wet lick of heat. Even the wind seems to feel it; it ripples honey-slow through the trees, barely strong enough to stir the air. Frogs move into the koi pond in the courtyard; they sing along with the cicadas’ sawing choir. 

“Catch it!” Gojo shouts as your hands spear through the murky pond water. It gushes free from between your fingers as you come up empty-handed, the frog you were aiming for frantically disappearing further below the surface. “You’re so slow.”

“Am not!”

“Are too,” he counters, holding out his cupped hands. A plaintive ribbit sounds out from between them. “I already caught one. It was easy.”

“You’re annoying.”

He stares at you, his blue eyes icy. “You’re annoying.”  

“You’re the one who came over.”

He rolls his eyes. “We train at your estate.”

“How come?”

“How come what?”

“How come we train here? Your estate is probably better.”

He shrugs, opening his hands enough to peer down at the frog. It glistens in the sunlight, the same deep green as the lush courtyard. It makes a break for freedom; he closes his hands again, his long fingers sewing the gap shut. “I like it better here.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Why?”

“I just do,” he says, voice flat.

You don’t ask again.

—

“Why are we here?”

Gojo blinks, his long white lashes sweeping over the sweet curve of his cheek. “Why are you whispering?”

Your cheeks heat. The Gojo estate is a sprawling, massive maw; you’ve felt devoured ever since you set foot in it. Even the golden light that slants through the shoji feels cold. There are ikebana arrangements lining the halls, the leggy, deep purple irises sculptural as they rise proudly from the vases, but it still feels like a mausoleum. 

“We’ve just never trained here before,” you say, taking care to use your regular voice. “So why are we here now?”

He shrugs. “They insisted.”

“Who?”

He dismisses the question with a wave of his hand, his long pianist’s fingers cutting through the air. You roll your eyes, long used to his occasionally imperious ways. The two of you continue along the hallways, you trailing after him closely, as if caught in his gravity, an orbiting moon. 

You almost run into him when he comes to a sudden halt. You peek around him—in the last few months, he’s gone through a growth spurt, one that your mother says will come when you’re his age, and he’s too tall to peer over his shoulder—and see a servant bowing low, her ebony hair glinting.

“Gojo-sama,” she says. “Please follow me. The elders are waiting.”

He sighs, a dramatic heave of his chest. “What do they want?”

“They didn’t specify.”

“Ugh.”

“Gojo-sama—”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he says. “Go tell those geezers I’ll be there soon.” 

You wince right along with the servant. Gojo’s disdain for the elders is not new, but it still unnerves you every time, as if they will come along and smite you down. 

“C’mon,” Gojo says to you. “Let’s get it over with.”

The servant clears her throat. “Only you, Gojo-sama.”

He glares, his blue eyes burning, a comet streaking through the sky. “No,” he says. “They’re coming.”

“They cannot.”

“I said they’re coming.” 

“It’s okay,” you tell him, eyes wide. “Really.” 

Gojo looks back at you. For a second, his mouth is a wound, tender and pink, but in the next breath, it’s gone, frozen under a layer of ice.

“Fine.” 

You bite your lip, but he’s already walking away. You catch yourself before you reach for him. He disappears down the hallway, his hair glinting like exposed bone.

The servant turns to you. “This way,” she says, her voice perfectly neutral.

You follow her to an empty room; she slides the shoji shut behind herself as you settle onto the cushion at the chabudai. You gaze around the room. There’s not much to take in; it’s wealthy in a subdued way. You fidget with the hem of your sleeve and then get to your feet.

You slide open the shoji leading out to the engawa; it opens onto a huge, lush courtyard. The plush flowers are weighted down by their own blooms, their stems curving like a dancer’s back. A shishi-odoshi rings out with a hollow thud; a few songbirds scatter, their wings rustling like leaves as they soar towards the sky. 

You step out onto the engawa. It’s still early enough that the sun slants onto the wood, warming it. You sit down and bask in it, tilting your face up for the sun’s sweet kiss. You lay back, your eyes fluttering shut.

A voice wakes you.

“He’s an insolent brat!” a man hisses. “He needs to be taken in hand!”

“He’s too powerful,” another man answers. His voice is calm, but you can sense the ripples in it, the thing lurking underneath. “We can only do what we’re already doing.”

You go still. They can only be talking about Gojo. Their footsteps echo; they’re drawing closer and closer.

“It’s not enough.” 

“He’s still young. Maybe we can mold him.” 

The first man snorts. “You don’t believe that.”

“No, I don’t.” 

“There’s something wrong with that boy,” the first man says. “Those eyes—that power—and not even a hint of a mark. He’s barely human.”

Their footsteps are starting to fade; their voices become murmurs. But you still hear it when the second man says:

“I don’t think he’s human at all.”

Then they’re gone, fading from your world like malevolent spirits, dissipating on the wind. You unclench your fists and find that your nails have bitten into your skin, little half-moon curves cutting through the leylines of your palms. 

Gojo shows up a mere minute later. He slides open the shoji with a bang; his eyes find you immediately. 

“C’mon,” he says, stepping out into the courtyard. His eyes are shadowed; his lips are pulled tight, an unstitched wound. He’s heard them, you realize. You’ve never seen him bothered by other people’s opinions; your chest aches, a pressed bruise. You open your mouth to say something, but you can’t find the words. 

He grabs your hand as he passes by you, tugging you along behind him, ignoring your surprised yelp. “Let’s go before those stupid geezers find me again.” 

“Where are we going?”

“Away from here.”

“But my shoes—”

He glances back at you and you drown in blue. 

“Okay,” you say quietly. “Let’s go.” 

He doesn’t answer; he just tugs you along. You stare at the back of his head for a moment, trying to make sense of the expression you’d seen flash across his face before he’d turned around again. You can’t understand it, but you know one thing.

He’s never looked more human to you.

—

The next time you see him, you’re prepared.

You uncap the marker with your teeth. You reach out for Gojo’s arm; he pulls away before you can grab hold, as quick as a darting fish. 

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Give me your arm.” 

“Why?”

“You’ll see.” 

He eyes you for a moment, but gives you his arm.

You push up his yukata sleeve to expose the tender underbelly of his wrist. You start to write, laboring over each stroke of the marker, keeping it as neat as you can. The silver ink covers the rivers of his blue-green veins as it sinks into his skin, a childish tattoo. 

“There,” you say, finishing with a somewhat-shaky flourish. “Now you have a mark.”

Gojo stares at you, his cerulean gaze lit from within, the sea beneath the sun. He covers the katakana of your name with his free hand, careful not to smudge the still-drying characters. Under the shadow, they fade to gray, but they still glint and glimmer the same way real soulmarks do. 

You hum, pleased with yourself, cap the marker, and toss it to the side so you can start training. 

You don’t know it yet, but it’s your last session with him. He disappears into the dawn like a fading star, spirited off to Tokyo to continue his training. You’ve only spent six months with him. Still, it aches, a pressed bruise, but you’ve always known he would outgrow you; his power is a black hole, always devouring. 

Life, ever unmoved, continues on. 

The boy you knew fades from your memories, though you never forget him. It’s impossible, with the stories that come out of Tokyo, how he completes missions that no one his age should be able to handle. 

Still, you forget things. The tilt of his mouth; the cadence of his voice. He becomes a shadow of himself, a shade with burning blue eyes. 

You forget that you once wrote your name on the delicate inside of his wrist. 

Gojo, though—

Gojo never does.

[orphicmusings]

jealous Viktor 🙏🙏 friends to lovers

“i don’t like the way he’s looking at you.” viktor’s voice floated just past your ear, making you aware of your surroundings as he shoved a glass of something in your hand.

“what’s this?” you asked, having never been to one of these fancy academy gatherings before. as you sniffed the golden flute, wincing at the strong booze quantity your nose measured, he scoffed.

“jayce.” he asnwered, and you looked at him, confused. “jayce made this?” you inspected it closer. “he should stick to his day job. it seems a little strong-“

“he’s plotting something.” he interrupts you with a skeptical murmur, and you follow the trail of his gaze. jayce caught your eye, and quickly looked away. you frowned, feeling your cheeks heating up as you put it together.

“jayce is?” you asked your friend, who had a stern, chiding expression on his usually delicate face. “he’s…interested in me? i had no idea…” you laughed awkwardly, and viktor finally turned his attention to you.

“are you interested?” you felt the heat in your cheeks spread as you shook your head. god, how oblivious can one man be? has he not caught your gaze lingering on his long fingers as he works? the way you follow him around like a puppy at this point, always with a coffee or a glass of water? the way you undeniably reacted so pathetically when he asked you to come to this thing—platonically, no less—sputtering and flushing your answer? you wanted to strangle him.

“no, i’m not.” you respond, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice. “why?”

his eyes darted between you and jayce, across the room. “no reason.” he mumbled into his drink. you decided to down yours before asking what you were about to ask.

“what would you do if i was?” his thick brows knit together every so subtly at the question, a struggle to keep his face neutral. “i…” he started, fighting to keep his voice nonchalant. “i’d be happy to set you two up.” you rubbed your face in irritation, a bit of your makeup trailing under your fingers.

“you’d be happy to?”

“well…” he tilted his head slightly in confusion. “that is what i just said, yes.”

there was a beat of silence as you took a breath, feeling all too close to him. “go ahead.” you challenged, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye. his eyes searched your expression, and you can hear the wheels turning in his brilliant brain as he analyzed your entire face in seconds.

“i….” a pretty pink dusted his cheeks. “i am not sure if i want to.”

you pressed your lips together to hide a smirk. “no?”

“no, i don’t.” he stepped closer. “in fact, it would…” his eyes drifted down to your lips. “inconvenience me very much.”

you spared a glance toward jayce, who was still pretending like he wasn’t looking, and leaned forward to close the gap between you and viktor. he reciprocated almost immediately, catching your face gently in his hands, breathing a smile into your mouth. you pulled away and tugged on his hand, nodding your head toward the coat closet, but he simply pulled you even closer.

“no.” he stated firmly against your neck, quickly suckling a kiss when no one was looking. “want him to see.”

[bucksangel]

more than a mid day amusement

pairing: sugar daddy/silver fox!bucky x reader

word count: 5k

summary: being in a relationship with an older man comes with challenges, all that come to a head one night when an old friend digs up some insecurities and threatens to break everything you have with the man you love.

warnings: 18+ ONLY, sugardaddy!au, age gap, angst, fluff, jealousy, love-making, fingering, unprotected p in v, bucky is a silver fox, pet names (princess), daddy kink, love confessions, happy ending

a/n: i read this fic by @witchywithwhiskey and decided I wanted to write a sugar daddy!bucky fic, so here y’all go! Thank you molly for unintentionally giving me inspiration🤍

masterlist | tip jar | ao3

Upon walking through the doors, you have to fight to not let your mouth drop open. The ballroom is, to put it simply, utterly gorgeous. Several chandeliers hang from the tall ceiling, the tile floors are pearly and pristine, and the artwork adorning the walls is almost too beautiful to look at. There was a large Angel fountain in front of the property, and there’s a matching one inside in the middle of the room. Dozens of butlers walk by every minute, all holding a tray of champagne or an array of Hors D’oeuvres, and maids linger on the outskirts ready to clean up any messes. There are easily over two hundred people here to raise money for some children’s charity that you can’t remember the name of, and all are ready to spend more money on a single sculpture than you spend on rent for an entire year.

The people that you engage with upon first entering are dull, so much so that you grab a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and sip on it while staring at the art, letting Bucky do all the talking. He does his best to involve you in the conversations whenever he can, but he understands you’re not here to talk business, so he doesn’t let the talks dip any further than surface level – always mindful of your time. While you never mind, after all you know why you’re here, you are thankful because you’re pretty sure your brain can’t hold any more information on Stark’s stock prices.

These parties – galas, charities, call it whatever you want – are always boring, too many rich people with fake laughs and ulterior motives and side eyes. Your first was about six months ago, and you were pretty sure your anxiety had never been so bad, obsessing over the dress Bucky chose for you and if it would be appropriate, if people would think you looked nice, if your hair was in place because you would be damned if you made Bucky look bad by looking bad yourself. And, maybe you wanted to look good for him too.

Your relationship isn’t conventional, it never has been. You met through one of those stereotypical romantic comedies “we walked into each other and spilled our coffees on each other” meet-cute situations outside of the coffee shop. Except, you weren’t all that cute about it. It was your favorite shirt, and you were going to be at work on time except now you had to go to the store to get a new one because your apartment was too far away to simply go back. You’ll admit that you were a little rude to him, especially since even then you knew it was an honest mistake, but one flash of Bucky’s pearly white teeth and the low tenor of his voice asking if he can buy you a new one – a shirt and coffee – had you crumbling.

He understood your reservations about you letting him drive you to a nearby store, you were strangers after all, but he had absolutely no trouble pulling out his wallet and flipping it open, and you will also admit that the sound you made when he did so was not dignified. The stack of one-hundred-dollar bills was obscene and the sleek black card on the side was taunting you, prompting you to wonder what in the hell this man did for work. He was older, maybe later forties or early fifties, dressed in a sharp black on black suit with matching loafers, his hair was perfectly slicked back, and you still don’t know much about cologne, but you were pretty sure that his easily cost hundreds of dollars.

He handed you three hundred dollars for the new shirt, waving off your balking expression by saying that he feels really bad because he can see how upset you are so “please treat yourself.” You were a little apprehensive about taking it, but Bucky was so sincere and kind and, truthfully, you needed the money. So, you took it.

And his invitation for a date.

You’re still not sure how he got you to agree to it, even now Bucky says he’s not sure either, but you chalk it up to the fact that he’s a dangerous sweet talker. The fact that he’s a walking God among men just sweetened the deal. The silver in his beard and the grays at his temples made him look refined, dignified, like he was confident and knew what he wanted, and would do anything to get it.

Apparently, you were what he wanted.

The date was nothing short of lovely, a beautiful dinner at some fancy high-rise restaurant in Manhattan overlooking the city as the sun was setting. It wasn’t packed, so there was only the quiet murmur of conversation mingled in with the Orchestral strings from the band in the corner while you ate better than you have in your entire life. Surprisingly, you both had a lot in common, you have similar music tastes, book recommendations, food palettes, almost everything really. The connection came as a shock considering you’re easily twenty years younger than him, and that’s when you really understood that age was just a number.

Given your age gap and his obvious wealth, you had a feeling you knew where this date was headed, but Bucky hadn’t made you feel awkward or made any inappropriate advances or comments, so you pushed it aside and sat through the date with a wide smile and a full belly. By three glasses of wine in, you were giggly, and Bucky was a little flushed from the bourbon he’d been nursing, and when the waiter took your plates and went to get the dessert, he broke the news.

Bucky, as you can see, is older, he’s not married, has no kids, living in a too-big house. Being one of the top CEOs in the country, all the women he meets are after his money, always with an ulterior motive, and to an extent he understands why. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt though. But, Bucky doesn’t have a lot of time to go out and find the perfect woman right now, so all he wants is some companionship, someone to take on trips and dates when he gets bored, someone to spoil and dote on because he’s a provider by nature. He’d want you to accompany him to the events he has to attend as part of work, and in return he’d give you an allowance on top of paying for your apartment.

He laid everything out, asking you questions and answering anything that you had, talking in depth and easing any worries you had over an older man asking you to be his sugar baby. You’ve never done this before, so it felt a little weird to be talking about it, but by the time you’d finished dessert, you were free of any hesitation.

You went home that night with Bucky’s number in your phone, five hundred dollars in your wallet, and a pending payment to your apartment complex for that month’s rent.

Tonight is similar to other charity events, boring small talk with even more boring people that’s only made better by Bucky’s arm around your waist. Also the new necklace he’d given you when he picked you up earlier that evening.

The necklace – a simple pearl on a gold chain, matches your light peach dress. The dress cups your breasts and hugs your waist, then flows around your hips to form a small train behind you as you walk. It’s smooth silk, and Bucky laughed when you asked to marry him because he made sure to tell the designer to add pockets. It’s beautiful, something Bucky has taken note of multiple times tonight.

“You’re stunning, you know that?” Bucky asks softly, his lips pressed to your ear and his hand warm on your lower back. You’re standing off to the side with drinks in your hands, facing each other in your own little bubble as you talk and joke about the people walking by. “The most beautiful princess ever.”

Giggling, you can feel your cheeks heating up at the same time as your eyes roll a little.

“You’ve said that like five times tonight,” You tease, reaching up with your free hand to tuck a strand of hair behind Bucky’s ear.

“Well, how rude of me,” He says with a mischievous smile. “It should be triple by now.”

“You know you don’t need to sweet talk me, I’m already going home with you.” Again, you giggle, shaking your head teasingly.

“It’s not about that,” Bucky says seriously, his voice turning stern. “I don’t care if you sleep with me tonight or not, you’re beautiful, and you should know that.”

Butterflies fill your tummy, and your face grows warmer. Your heart bursts with affection at the same time feeling like it’s been stabbed. Lately, Bucky’s been getting a little more affectionate with his words and actions, which is saying something considering he already doted on you quite a bit. Part of you wonder if your feelings for him are reciprocated, if you’re not falling in love alone.

Because, as much as you tried not to, you fell for your sugar daddy.

It’s probably a bad idea to let yourself sink into the delusion that you’re actually a couple, that you’re both in love without the monetary incentive. In fact, you know it’s dangerous.

That’s not going to stop you tonight.

Leaning up, you place a soft and lingering kiss on Bucky’s lips, both of you sighing into the kiss. “Thank you, daddy,” You whisper when you pull away, looking into his eyes and seeing a twinkle in them. You’re not sure what it means, and you want so desperately to ask why he’s looking at you like you’re his whole world, but the words die on your tongue. You don’t want to ruin the moment by revealing your feelings.

After a pause, Bucky smirks. “You’re welcome, princess.” He leans down this time and kisses you again, this time it’s a little more passionate. His tongue invades your mouth, his hand drifting to your waist and gripping it tight, pulling you flush against your body. The kiss feels different somehow, the sparks are flying higher than usual, and something deep in your bones knows that things are going to change tonight.

You pull away only when your lungs are screaming for air, even though you’d love nothing more than to spend the rest of the evening kissing him, touching him, worshipping him and letting him worship you. Intimacy is never boring with you two, it’s always intense, whether he’s plowing into you from behind and calling you degrading names or you’re in missionary, whining and whimpering because Bucky won’t speed up his hips. He could, and has, spent hours eating you out, making you cum over and over until you black out, only for him to fuck you awake. You’ve sucked his dick under the tables of various restaurants. You’ve let him convince you to wear dresses without panties on your dates. Whatever it is you do, you know you’ll have fun.

Hours pass by with Bucky guiding you around the ballroom, making small talk with people you don’t know the names of, playing the part of his doting date expertly. It’s when he leaves your side to go to the bar that things heat up.

“Oh my god,” A deep voice says behind you, and for a split second you have a sense of nostalgia, like you’ve heard that voice before. A hand touches your arm, prompting you turn around and come face to face with the man that approached you.

And wouldn’t you know it, it’s Aaron, your best friend from childhood. Happiness immediately floods your body. You haven’t seen or heard from him in so long, not that there was a bad falling out, you two just grew apart. But it’s still good to see him, he was a part of so many happy memories when you were a kid.

“Oh my god!” You repeat, your eyes widen. Both of you outstretch your arms at the same time, going in for a hug with smiles on your faces. “Aaron, it’s so good to see you! We haven’t talked in so long.”

“I know,” He says remorsefully, sporting a sheepish grin that you match. “I’m sorry about that. You were my best friend.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault, okay? It was both of us.” Your reassurance seems to put him at ease, and you fall into an easy conversation, catching up on your lives and reminiscing on your younger years and the trouble you both got into.

“Remember when Anthony tripped you for saying no to his marriage proposal?” Aaron asks with a chuckle, and you let out a laugh at the memory.

“Well, we were seven and at that time all boys had cooties, so I’m not sure why he thought I’d say yes.”

“Princess.” Bucky says from behind you, and you turn around to see him holding a glass of bourbon with slightly furrowed brows.

“Oh, Bucky!” You exclaim, reaching out for him and tugging him closer. “This is Aaron, we used to be the best of friends when we were kids.”

“I know Aaron,” Bucky says cooly, wrapping his arm around your waist possessively. When you look back at your friend, you completely miss the anger in Bucky’s eyes. “We went to the same college. I was a TA for a few of his first year classes.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, and you look between Bucky and Aaron with a quizzical look.

“Really? Wow, the world is small.” You laugh softly, as does Aaron.

Bucky stays silent. In fact, he stays relatively quiet for the entire interaction, letting you and your friend reconnect for what feels like hours. Eventually, though, all the champagne you’ve drank has gotten to your system and the need to pee hits you straight in the gut. Extracting yourself from Bucky’s hold, you tell the men that you’re going to the bathroom, and kiss Bucky’s cheek before turning and walking towards the hallway that leads to it.

And while you’re in the bathroom, you’re ruminating a little on your conversation, and an unpleasant feeling settles in your stomach when you finally register all the compliments Aaron was throwing your way and how Bucky’s grip would tighten with each one. But you saw his wedding ring, so you’re sure he doesn’t have an ulterior motive. Maybe he just genuinely wants you to know you look nice.

However, when you get back to the ballroom and scan the crowd, you see Bucky’s back as he faces your friend. Aaron has a smug smirk on his face, his hands in his pockets, and his posture relaxed. He doesn’t seem phased by whatever Bucky is saying, making you curious as to what they’re talking about. When you get a few feet behind them, you start to hear it.

“…So leave her alone, okay? She’s taken.” Bucky’s voice is deep, using what you’ve deemed his Important CEO voice.

“I don’t know about that,” Aaron says, and the unpleasant feeling grows. “She didn’t seem to mind that I was flirting with her. Plus, what are you, like, seventy? You’re way too old for her, grandpa. She’s going to leave you eventually.”

Anger flares up in your body, your eyes filling with fire and your heart filling with rage at his degrading comments. Bucky is perfect. He’s kind, respectful, funny, the whole nine yards. So someone insulting him, especially about your age gap which you know he’s already a little self-conscious about.

“She’s my girl,” Bucky reiterates sharply, and you can see his hand tighten around the now empty glass he’s holding. Quite frankly, you’re surprised it hasn’t shattered. With the short pause in their conversation, you decide now is a time to butt in.

“Bucky,” You say, walking up to him further and placing your hand on his back. You want to yell at Aaron for being so rude, maybe even punch him, but you know causing a scene wouldn’t be a good look. You decide it’s safer to play dumb. “I’m not really feeling good.” Bucky’s eyebrows furrow with worry, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, he’s always taken your well-being seriously, and the affection settles you a little.

“Nothing, I just think I drank a little too much. Do you think we could leave?” You briefly glance over at Aaron, seeing that he’s now looking pissed off.

Good.

“Of course we can, princess,” Bucky says softly, leaning forward and kissing your forehead tenderly. “Come.”

You don’t bother saying goodbye to Aaron, you don’t even glance at him as you let Bucky tug you along to the car. You’re starting to get worried with each step you take because you can see that he’s tense while at the same time despondent. He’s never said anything about your age gap bothering him, but you can be observant. You’ve noticed that lately he’s been a little timid when telling anyone how old he is when you’re around, almost like it just drives home the point that you’re so far apart in age and causing others to judge and sneer at both of you. He gets a little shifty when someone comments on it or makes a passing joke, and you always try to reassure him without outright saying that you know.

When you get to the car, he opens your door for you, going about the usual routine of buckling you in and kissing your cheek before shutting the door and going around to his side. Things are quiet and tense the whole drive to Bucky’s penthouse, he’s not even holding your hand or resting his on your thigh like he usually would. It upsets you, and you want so badly to ask what he’s feeling, to tell him that it’s okay because you genuinely do care for him and that Aaron was out of line for saying the things he did.

Again, you can’t seem to find the words.

You still don’t speak when you get to his place. Getting out of the car, the walk into the building, and the elevator ride up to his floor all go about in silence. It’s not until you get into his kitchen that he says anything.

“Are you happy with our arrangement?” He asks as he hands you a glass of water, and the question physically hurts you.

“Of course I am,” You say, even though it’s a complete lie. In reality you want to actually be with him, but you’re still deciding on if you want to tell him. “Are you not?”

Bucky doesn’t say anything, and a pit forms in your stomach. Is he really not happy with you? He told Aaron you were his girl, but his silence to your question is deafening.

“So you wouldn’t prefer to actually be in a relationship?” He asks tentatively, putting his hands in his pockets and looking at the ground as though it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. “There are plenty of men out there that would love to have you as theirs.”

That stabs at your heart, and you have to force the tears from forming in your eyes. That ‘plenty of men’ comment crushes you, because it just proves to you that he doesn’t see himself actually being in a relationship with you.

“No,” You say after a moment, now looking down at your hands to hide your sad eyes in case he looks at you again.

Everything is quiet for a long while, anxiety bubbling up and threatening to spill. You’ve never felt this way about anyone else, never felt this type of all consuming love for another person, and you don’t want to lose it.

It seems like you might, tonight.

“Um,” Bucky says after a while, clearing his throat. “I can, uh, take you home if you’re still not feeling good.” This time tears do form in your eyes. You don’t want to leave, but it seems like he’s pushing you out as politely as he can.

You know what you need to do.

“If you want to end our arrangement, I understand.” Your voice is soft but thick with how hard you’re trying not to cry. “If you want to be with someone else, it’s okay.” It’s not, not really. But you know it’s not your right to demand that he stay with you if he doesn’t want to.

“I don’t want to be with anyone else,” He confesses hesitantly, and you can feel his gaze boring holes into you. You hear his shoes pad along the carpet until they appear in your line of sight. His hand rests on the back of your neck, guiding your head up to look at him through tears. “But I’m too old for you. You need someone younger, someone better suited for you than I am.”

“You’re perfect for me,” You blurt out despite your better judgment. “You’re not ‘too old’, and there’s no one better suited for me than you. We get along, don’t we? Don’t you at least like my company?”

“I love your company.” Both of you pause, and this time a spark of hope ignites in your heart. “I love you.”

His soft admission causes you to gasp, and your anxiety completely fades away.  Now that you know his feelings, you’re not going to let him push you away.

“But- “

“But nothing,” You say, standing up on wobbly legs due to your heels. Bucky immediately reaches for your waist to steady you, and they don’t drop when you’re upright. “Even if it’s difficult, if we love each other, it’ll be worth it.”

“You love me?” Bucky sounds shocked, his eyes widening almost comically, though hopefully.

“I do,” You whisper, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear and then cupping his cheek in your palms. “I love you, Bucky. You. Not anyone else. I don’t care how old you are because we connect. We understand each other like I know no one else can.”

Bucky sighs, relieved, and leans forward to rest his forehead on yours. Slowly, he leans down further until his lips are hovering right over yours, but not taking the plunge. Only when you whine does he actually kiss you. It’s not all tongues and teeth and clashing and intensity, it’s warm and passionate and loving, it’s perfect. You kiss for what feels like forever, your lips gliding against each other as you soak each other in. After a while, Bucky pulls away, though only enough to once again hover over his mouth over yours.

“You really love me, princess?” The tenor in his voice shifts the mood, the way he pulls you flush against his body so you can feel the hard outline of his bulge.

“I really love you, daddy.” You smile, as does Bucky, before he suddenly leans down and grabs the back of your thighs so he can lift you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist.

He stares into your eyes the entire walk to his bedroom, and you almost want to cry with how happy you are. The brief angst of almost losing what you have is gone, replaced now with love and lust. He gently sets you down on the floor, wasting no time yet at the same time taking great care of undressing you, sliding your dress off as he presses kisses wherever he can reach. You’re whimpering, your need bubbling up and threatening to make you cry with frustration. You always get a little dumb with Bucky in the bedroom, easily going under until all you can think of and focus on is Bucky.

You look at Bucky while he lowers himself to his knees, putting your hands on his shoulders to steady you as he takes off your heels. He places kisses on your thighs, spreading your legs a little so he can brush his nose along your pubic bone and inhale your scent.

“Fuck, you smell so good,” He groans, his tongue darting out and forcing its way through your folds to tease your clit. And you’re extremely thankful you went without panties tonight.

“Daddy,” You whine, shifting forward into Bucky’s mouth, but he retreats as soon as you do. “Please.”

“Don’t worry, princess,” He murmurs, standing back on his feet. And, even though you want to tear his clothes off, you also don’t want to ruin the serenity of the moment. So you’re slow when taking Bucky’s clothes off, also kissing him and relishing in his pleased sighs and quiet moans.

“Da-“

Bucky cuts you off with a kiss, once again taking you into his arms so he can lay you gently on the bed. He climbs on top of you, continuing to kiss you until you’re breathless and only vaguely aware of Bucky’s hand creeping up your inner thigh until you’re gasping into his mouth due to his thumb settling right against your clit.

“Say it again,” He demands, and you know what he wants to hear.

“I love you.” At that, he rubs his thumb in slow circles, dipping one finger into your aching hole in one fluid motion. You moan loudly, arching your back slightly and pressing your breasts against Bucky’s chest.

He doesn’t speed up his movements, is methodical in how he takes you apart just with his hands. While he fits a second finger in your pussy he starts massaging your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple as he kisses and sucks and nibbles at your jaw and neck, no doubt leaving marks of ownership that you’ll wear proudly.

He continues his gentle movements, only speeding up slightly when he notices your pleasure is growing.

“Fuck, princess, need you to cum so I can be inside you.” His begging only gets you more worked up and you’re so close you can taste your release. “Please, cum.”

And you do, letting go with a wail that Bucky swallows with his mouth. He fingers you through your orgasm, only stopping when you start whining at the sensitivity.

“Daddy,” You say, though you’re not sure exactly what you want to say.

“What do you need, princess?”

“You.” Your response is immediate, and you see Bucky’s features soften. “Always you. Only you.”

Bucky groans and hurriedly situates himself between your spread legs. He reaches between his legs and grasps his cock, hissing at the pleasure before he guides himself to your entrance. With a loving look into your eyes, he smiles and says, “I love you.”

And that’s all the preamble needed for Bucky to push in, slowly stretching you and splitting you open until you’re fully speared on his cock. You can’t do much more than grasp his shoulders, pulling him flush against you so all you can feel, smell, and see is Bucky, your love. He stays still for a moment, letting both of you adjust, simply staring into each other’s eyes as though you can’t get enough of it.

“Please move, daddy.”

He does, pulling his hips back and then thrusting forward, forcing a moan from your mouth. He does it again and again until he’s worked up a steady rhythm, making love to you and worshipping you with his mouth, his hands, and his words. He’s praising you endlessly, telling you how beautiful you are, how much he loves you, how lucky he is that you want to be his.

You don’t realize you’re crying until Bucky’s lips ghost over your cheek and catch a tear, shushing and cooing at you.

“Princess, fuck princess, I love you so much. You feel so fucking good around me, you’re fucking perfect, you know that? The only one for me for this life and any others I live.” Bucky doesn’t stop there, he keeps telling you sweet things and thrusting his hips and nailing your special spot with each one.

“I’m gonna cum, daddy!”

“Hold it,” He says, fucking you a little faster. “Cum with me.”

You whine, and you desperately want to cum, but if Bucky doesn’t want you to then you won’t. So, you hold off as best as you can, resigning yourself to simply feeling, sinking into the pleasure and your head going fuzzier and fuzzier until you’re vaguely aware of Bucky’s desperate and husky voice ordering you to cum.

Through tears, you cry out as your orgasm washes over you, gripping Bucky like a lifeline as he spills inside of you. It lasts eons, flames igniting your skin as both of you share such a special moment. When you finally come down from your high, Bucky is clearly trying not to collapse on top of you, causing you to giggle.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, teasing.

“Nothing,” You assure, now rubbing up and down his back. “I’m just happy.”

Bucky sighs, smiling softly before leaning down to kiss you chastely. Carefully, he rolls you both over so you’re now lying on top of him with his cock still lodged deep in your pussy, keeping his release in place.

“I’m happy too,” Bucky confesses, smiling wider when you do. You both go quiet for a long while, you’re resting your head on his chest and he’s rubbing your back and sides, reveling in the love you share. When you yawn, Bucky chuckles, kissing the top of your head.

“Go to bed, princess. I’ll make us breakfast in the morning.”

“M’kay,” You mumble, nuzzling his chest and kissing over his heart. “I love you.”

“I love you too, princess,” Bucky murmurs, kissing you again. “I love you too.”

You sleep better than you ever have, happier than ever knowing that no matter how hard things get, you have Bucky by your side, and that alone will make things easier.

-

main taglist: @lilyalone @crazyunsexycool @goldylions @yeehawbrothers @buckyssweetheart @buckysprettybaby @sushiseoks @heytheredelulu @somnorvos @ozwriterchick @pxgeturner @gentlelimerence

bucky taglist: @brookeleclerc @justsebstan @myfavbuckyfics

[itsgivingmami]

When Did You Know? -Rhea Ripley

Summary: “When did you know?” He asks and Rhea raises a brow at him, prompting him to explain. “You wanted to marry her,”

WC: 1905

Warnings: none(if you spot any lemme know)

I’m high, enjoy🍃

Rhea holds a champagne flute watching you from across the backyard, sitting with your sister the two of you are giggling at what ever is in the gift she’s given you. With the way it send a red flush across your face she makes a note to pester you about it later.

“So,” it’s Damian who wanders over and she’s relieved, not that she didn’t love the family and friends invited to your engagement party but someone she didn’t have to be on her best behaviour around was always welcomed. “Enjoying that?” He teases pointing at the flute.

“I feel like I’m going to crush it,” she responds, staring down the offending drink. Damian chuckles and shakes his head following her gaze to you and smiling.

“When did you know?” He asks and Rhea raises a brow at him, prompting him to explain. “You wanted to marry her,”

Rhea looks back to you and you meet her eye, she sees your face soften and smile at her mouthing a small ‘hi’ to her. She winks back to you before your attention is pulled away again. When did she know?

~

The light from the moon came in the open window, a warm breeze flowing into the room making the curtains flutter. The dogs snore peacefully at the end of the bed, practically dead to the world for the next couple hours before the sun rises.

You and Rhea lay in a comfortable silence, your bare legs tangle together under the plum sheets and your torso press together as you lay on her. Your face tucks into her neck as she strokes your hair, relishing in the afterglow content to just feel you and gently drift to sleep.

“I think I can feel my bones,” her eyes snap open as you mumble into her neck, for a moment she wonders if she misheard you? Or maybe you were talking in your sleep? Which she’s never heard you do, but surely that made more sense than you feeling your bones.

“Hmm” Rhea kisses your head, which is probably the safest response at this point, “your bones?”

“Like in my body I feel them if I think about it,” you explain, your hand strokes along her ribcage to emphasis your point. “Do you feel yours?”

You picked your head up to look into her eyes, ready for a serious answer. Rhea on the other hand was fighting her self control trying not to smile at you lovingly. She pulled her lips into a thin line to hide her love for you and pretended to try.

“Not feeling anything” Rhea responds and you pout at her before rolling over with your bare back exposed to her, “you’re upset because I can’t feel my bones?”

“Yes!”

~

“You’re sure you want to meet them?” Rhea asks again, slowing her steps as you walk home from dinner. It’s risky with Rhea growing fame, but the setting sun is too warm to deny and if anyone had recognised her neither of you had noticed walking hand in hand chatting. She had invited you over to her place during dinner, starting to feel guilty that you two always ended up at yours. Now, she was regretting that choice.

“Yes I’m sure,” you laugh as she asks you for the thousandth time, surely they couldn’t be that bad right? “Keep up,” you pull her along not allowing her to stall you any longer.

“I just feel like there might be a better time to introduce you,” Rhea bargains and you roll your eyes playfully turning to face her.

“They’re important to you,” you say while pointing at her, “I want to know about everything you love,” you tell her, she allows her shoulders to relax and grabs your pointing hand bringing it to her lips to kiss it.

“Okay,” you two begin walking again and you wrap your arms around hers, “they’ll be excited”

As you walk up to her door and she unlocks it she puts her hand on the knob and turns to face you again.

“Don’t you dare ask if I’m sure,” you say and smile as she grumbles at you and opens the door. Up until now you hadn’t felt nervous, instead distracted by quelling your girlfriend’s anxiety about you’re meeting them. Now you were being faced with the reality that if they didn’t like you, how would you and Rhea stay together. She closes the door behind you quietly, her hand touches your lower back and she leans down to your ear,

“Ready?” You take a deep breath, you could do this. She meant to much to mess this up. You nod confidently and you feel her stand back up. “Babies!”

The sound of her dogs is thunderous as they round the corner, you spot Barry first as he slides around the wall and begins to sprint full force down the hall.

“Oi!” Rhea tries but it’s too late, you’ve resigned your fate and brace yourself. His jowels bounce with slobber as he runs, his ears standing up as he leaps directly at you and sending you to the floor on your ass. Luna comes running behind your head to kiss your forehead and Rhea stands frozen. There’s a moment where she’s sure that you’ll be upset and walk out considering her ninety pound menace just sacked you but your laughter stops the thought.

“Hi babies how’re-“ Barry licks at you and you fall backwards giggling and reaching up to pet Luna. “Pretty girl,” you tell her smaller dog as she more politely licks your nose. Rhea could cry watching you meet them, pet them and give them small kisses slobber and hair be damned. She walks over to you offering a hand and pulls you back to standing.

“It was really rough,” you tease, “but I made it.”

~

The pain in her shoulder was searing and she wanted nothing more than to relax without this goddamn sling but compared to the anger in her chest it felt mild. It replays in her head again, walking out with the belt around her waist and leaving it behind in the ring. She clenched her jaw and closed her eyes, stubborn tears falling from her eyes as she sat on the end of the bed.

“Baby,” your soft hand comes to hold her jaw and Rhea shakes her head, no matter how many times you go through a rough patch she’s never learned to let you see her cry. Your fingers gently pull her chin up and she’s too tired to fight it, tears fall off her jaw to your hand. You take a step closer to stand between her legs and pull her head into your sternum, the sadness and frustration she’s been holding breaks and she sobs against you. You hold her tight as she cries against you,

“I’ve got you,”

~

It was awful. Ridiculously bad. Downright unholy and probably frowned upon in most countries while being loathed by the majority of people. Except Rhea, your girlfriend loved the way you danced.

Well, “dancing” might be a reach. It’s more, flailing and hair flipping but accompanied by your terrible singing and wearing her t-shirt Rhea found herself drooling at your breakfast island.

“Hungry?” You ask, pausing your… movements to attend to the pan. As you turn around Rhea swallows,

“Starving,”

~

Your sister brings you a cup of tea and a glass of water before sitting on the couch next to you. The front of your head is pounding from crying, you reach for the water hoping to alleviate some of the pain. As you chug the glass water falls from your hair to your shoulders and you shiver.

“What happened honey bee?” She asks gently, her warm hand wraps around your cold one and feeling it close to ice she wraps both in her own.

“We starting arguing about something,” your breath seems to stutter as you speak, “I don’t remember what and then we fought for so long and then she told me to leave,”

You start to cry again and your sister pulls you into a hug, she cooes at you but you can’t focus on her. All you can think about is Rhea.

“Listen you’re not going to believe me,” your sister pulls her sleeve over her thumb and wipes your tears, “but I think you two will be fine,” you scoff at her and shake your head.

“She told me to go, we’ve fought but she’s never told me to go,” you insist, “she doesn’t want me,” you resign. You two are silent as you leans against her, you’re dozing off when a loud knocking makes you jerk.

“Ah-“ your sister hisses holding her cheek and going to the front door. You stand up from the couch to clean up the pillows you’d knocked to the floor. Heavy squeaking footsteps made you turn swiftly seeing Rhea in the door way.

“Rhea,” you say in disbelief looking her up and down, her dark hair is slicked to her forehead and dripping onto the hoodie she’s wearing. Not that it’s bothering her, she’s clearly soaked through and she wipes her face with her forearm.

“I’m sorry,” she starts as soon as she closes to you, “I shouldn’t have told you to go, it’s cowardly and you didn’t deserve it and I wish I could take it back,”

“Rhea,”

“But I can’t so I hope you can forgive me because when you left I felt it, that feeling that I can’t stand that I don’t know where you are or if you’re safe,” she’s pacing while she explains ignoring your attempt at her attention,

“Rhea”

“But I’ll feel it, if you want me too. I would understand after what I just did and what I’m doing now,” it’s clear she’s not hearing you so you take a few steps towards her, she finally looks at you “but I just needed to make sure you were okay because I love you and-“ Rhea had expect you to slap her, punch her, or scream in her face; but kiss her? You pullled away from her lips gently,

“I forgive you,”

-

Rhea sipped her coffee as she exited the shop, she was due back in the center in a few minutes. She sped walked down the street and went to turn around the corner before slamming into another body.

You had expected to hit the ground and braced for it surprised to feel yourself upright, opening your eyes seeing the woman you just collided with had caught you.

“I’m so sorry!” You squeak and the woman gives your a once over making sure you’re steady before she lets go, “I’ll get you a new coffee,”

“You’re sweet,” the tattooed stranger responds, “but I’m late,” she explains, you pat your imaginary wallets hoping to give her cash you don’t have with you.

“What’s your name?” You ask and the look on her face you find hilarious, was that such an odd question? “I owe you a coffee”

“Rhea Ripley,” she answers, walking around you slowly in the direction she needs to go, “ you should dm me pretty runner girl,”

She quickly makes her way across the street and away from you left wondering how you’re supposed to know which profile is hers?

~

Rhea tipped her flute back and finished the rest of the liquid in her glass before looking at Damian and shrugging,

“I just knew,”

[minniesmutt]

hai hai haii bangchan + mamacita 👀

﹙ 🪐 ﹚

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐦𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐚

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: BANG CHAN X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: MAFIA!AU, MAFIA BOSS! CHAN, MISOGYNY, GUNS, ORAL (F. REC), FACE RIDDING, UNPROTECTED SEX, ☾ ━━━ WC: 1.2K ☾ ━━━ NOTE: not me listening to MAMACITA when you sent that hbjad ☾ ━━━ send me Chase Atlantic songs and a member to write a blurb about ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     The only person Chan trusted more than his seven friends was his girlfriend. Especially when he needed to give people a little push. Maybe because she was just the right level of crazy to date— let alone join his gang— a mafia boss.

     He had her on his arm at a banquet for the underground world. Security was tight for the event and Chan knew coming in, he was fine if someone tried something. Y/n stuck close to him the whole time. Her arm wrapped with his while she held a glass of champagne in the other. He watched how many other men looked at her as they walked by. It boosted his ego more.

     “Mr. Bang! How nice to meet you finally!” Something he’d heard all night

     “Mr. Lee. It’s nice to meet you as well,” Chan greeted the target, being the cordial businessman he was.

     It wasn’t long before more men he’d spoken to over the phone had joined his conversation, including some sons who were due to take over their father’s spot. He’d proudly introduced Y/n as his girlfriend to the group when asked. Y/n smiled and gave a small wave to the group.

     “How do you manage to pick up such a pretty lady Mr. Bang?” One of the sons asked

     “Pure luck,” Chan answered

     “You have her well trained. Been quiet as a mouse all night.” Mr. Lee joked causing the other men to laugh

     “Maybe you’re just not worth speaking to Mr. Lee. Your fourth wife seems to think so at the moment,” Y/n smiled as she sipped her drink

     “Excuse me?” Mr. Lee looked shocked

     “Obviously not trained enough,” Another remarked

     “You let her speak this way, Mr. Bang?”

     “I prefer she does,” Chan smiled

     Chan didn’t worry about his girlfriend mouthing off. He’d thought it was attractive to watch her do it to others. It’s how things seemed to get done.

     “And you’re the current head of the underworld bosses? Can’t believe you have such a mou—”

     “You can finish that sentence if you prefer glass in your throat,” Y/n interrupted

     The look in her eyes alone kept the men silent for a moment.

     “I believe the council will need to discuss our leadership now,” Mr. Lee said

     “You’re just looking for an excuse to take out Chan, Mr. Lee.”

     “I most certainly am not!”

     “It’s really amazing what a few high ranking members of your family will say with a good drink and a pretty face in front of them.”

     “I beg you’re pardon?”

     “Then get on your knees and beg.”

     Y/n watched as he reached behind and pulled out a gun. Point it at her, which just made security— all who worked for her boyfriend— pull theirs out and surround the group.

     “Thank you, for showing you’re true colors, Mr. Lee. If any of you would like to join Mr. Lee, please feel free too. But let this be a warning not to question my leadership.” Chan smiled

     One of the security guards grabbed the gun from the man while he was escorted to a different room.

     “You let yourself get—” one of the sons started speaking put was cut off by Y/n’s champagne flute colliding with his head

     “Deal with them,” Chan sighed and escorted his girlfriend out of the room. Bringing her back home and carrying her up to their room.

     “Chan!” Y/n squealed

     “What?” He laughed as he walked up the stairs

     “I can walk.”

     “Mm, but I know you’re feet hurt from those heels baby.”

     Chan opened their bedroom door before setting her on the bed and kneeling infront of her. He quickly slipped her heels off and set them in their closet. Y/n smiled as he turned back to her. “I’m so glad I get to call you mine,” Chan said as he crawled over her and pressed his lips to hers.

     Y/n moaned into his mouth and pushed his blazer off his shoulder. Their hands roamed the other’s body, pulling off the fabric of the clothing. Tossing them somewhere in the room for someone to deal with later. Y/n managed to get her boyfriend on his back as she grinded herself against him. 

     “Let me prep you baby girl,” Chan said as she kissed down his neck

     “Let me ride that pretty face tonight?” Y/n asked

     “Whenever. Get up here.”

     Y/n moved up his frame. Wet pussy hovering over his face before he pulled her down to his mouth. Tongue sliding into her and coating her walls with his saliva. Y/n grabbed onto their headboard. Rolling her hips against his face, nose hitting her clit while his hands gripped her ass. 

     Y/n moaned into the large room. The tip of his nose hitting her clit with each roll of her hips. “Channie.” 

     Chan moaned into her as his hands had migrated to her hips and helped her rock against him. Her moans were muffled from him by her thighs. Her legs got tighter around his head with each swip of his tongue and nose.

     “Need you inside, Channie,” Y/n moaned

     Y/n peered down at him. Eyes closed as he ate her out. Enjoying the taste of her to the fullest. Chan kept her flush against him as she whined. The knot in her stomach tightening with each motion. Y/n moved her hands to grip his wrists. Holding on to him as he orgasm washed over her. A loud moan ripping from her throat. 

     Chan helped her through the high he set off before letting her off his face. Y/n sat up a bit and caught her breath as he moved her back over his hard cock. Y/n lifted his leaky dick from his stomach, positioning his tip at her entrance, and slowly sinking down. Chan held her hips as she sat down on him. Watching her head roll back as she took his size. 

     “Such a good girl for me,” Chan praised her 

      “Only you,” Y/n hummed as she placed her hands on his chest. 

     Slowly she started bouncing along his shaft. Chan took in the sight of her. Just like he always did in bed. His hands caressed her sides as she squeezed him just right.

       His hands grabbed her hips again as she picked up her pace. Helping her bounce on him as her nails left crescents into the skin. Dragging her nails down his chest. Chan moaned under her as she smiled down at him. Dick twitching inside as she clenched around him for fun. Rolling against him as Chan tilted his head back into the pillow.

     “Fuck baby. ‘M close,” Chan moaned

     “Fill me up Channie. Pretty please.” Y/n begged 

     “Whatever you want.” Chan sat up and pressed his lips to hers.

     Y/n wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Her tongue slipping into his mouth and playing with his tongue as his hands gripped her hips tighter. Burying himself inside her as his orgasm washed over him. Whimpering into her mouth as she tried rolling her hips against him.

     He flipped her onto her back, leaning down to her neck, “You’re turn baby.”

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[seospicybin]

TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

PART II

Felix x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle Masterlist

Synopsis: You and Felix become contestants in a reality dating show, Too Hot To Handle. (9,7k words)

Author's note: I'm sorry guys but I have to leave you with another cliffhanger. The last part will be posted this weekend, feel free to vent in my inbox and enjoy x

Content warning: This is entirely a work of fiction and not affiliated with real Too Hot To Handle show.

FELIX: I'm just your uh... normal guy. [smiles] Just trying to be a nice guy and do something my mum would be proud of at the end of the day. [snickers] I don't really have any lines, I don't have, like, a strategy to attract girls. Basically, I just walk into a bar and they heard my voice and accent, sorted. I wouldn't say how many girls I've been with [chuckles] uhm... people only focus on the numbers and a gentleman doesn't say. [laughs]

-

Felix has been staring at the surface of the pool long enough that it starts to calm him down. He was nervous a minute ago, waiting for you in anticipation even though he should be relaxed knowing that you said yes to having a date with him.

The date is set in the pool of the villa with a fruit platter and a bottle of champagne chilled in a bucket of ice served at the side of the pool. It's not the first time he's going on a date but his pattern of dating is casually meeting someone someplace and taking them home for a hook-up, that's it.

It's going to be hard to change that pattern, especially when he's been trapped in it long enough that it's comfortable. Going on a date and try not to do any physical touches? Felix already has a hard time imagining it.

"Hi, hello!"

Felix's head snaps in your direction and he almost chokes on air seeing you walking toward him in a crimson-red bikini.

"Have you been waiting long?" You ask.

Felix quickly offers his hand to help you get into the pool, slowly engulfing both of your bodies in the lukewarm water from the chest down. The lights from the bottom of the pool casts a bluish glow on your face and with this proximity, he can see your face up close and observes every facial feature you have.

Felix slightly shakes his head in disbelief. You're so perfect from head to toe that he's having a hard time wrapping his head around it and you're right in front of him.

-

FELIX: She's lush! In that red bikini looking like a forbidden apple and I just want to take a bite.

-

"Aren't you going to pour me a drink?" You're eyeing the two empty champagne flutes.

It's obvious he's too busy lusting over your body that he forgot to be a gentleman. You hold the glass as Felix filled them with bubby wine and pours himself a glass after.

"It's so nice!" You compliment.

Again, Felix has to force his brain to cooperate and actively stop himself from looking at your body, "Huh?"

"The date," you say, picking a grape from the plate and shoving it into your mouth, "I've never been on a date this nice before."

Felix gulps his wine to fuel his guts, "me too," he says, reaching for the grape but you get ahead of him.

"Here," you say, bringing a grape close to his mouth and feeding it to him.

He's more than eager to eat it right from your hand and grins as he chews on it while you refill both of your glasses with more wine.

"Thank you for picking me for the date by the way," you tell him with a smile.

Felix clinks his glass with yours, "thank you for saying yes," he thanked you back.

After taking a sip, you put the wine away and focus on him instead, making him nervous as you tilt your head low and look at him through your lashes. It's the classic trick in the book of seduction but you do it effortlessly with a hundred percent rate of success, making him feel like a special man, the only man in the world.

"I was surprised when Lana told me you asked me for a date," you explain.

The water is still enough that Felix can see you scoot closer to him that your knees bumps with him and it takes everything in him not to put his hand on your thigh, "May I know why you chose me?"

Felix has to force his brain to work extra tonight and rakes his hair to the back as if it would help, "I have my eyes on you on the first day," he admits.

Your lips curl into a smile and it's a familiar one that tells you're not buying his words, "yeah?"

Good thing Felix has just the proof of it, "I'm the one who kissed you at the blindfold game," he confidently spills the truth.

You hold a gaze for a moment then look away to get your wine glass, "I know."

If you know, then why you didn't react the way Felix expected to? You hold your wine glass close to your mouth but not drinking it, "What I want to know is why you didn't make a move on me until now?"

Felix finishes his wine before answering, "I have my reasons," he answers.

Your hand reaches for the fruit platter next to his shoulder and picks a slice of strawberry, "is it because I'm your second choice?"

"No!" Felix immediately denies it.

"The boys talked about which girls they were going for. You are Alex and Jamie's choice, then Jamie partnered up with you so I–I uh..." he stammers as he watches you eat the strawberry, then wash it down with the wine.

-

FELIX: Sitting this close and not able to kiss her? Impossible. She's irresistible, my gosh... [sucks air through teeth]

-

When Felix talked to you in the firepit that night, you have your guard up because he knows you were with Jamie but now, look at you! Your head is slightly tilted and flutter your eyelashes at him. You got game and Felix likes having all of your attention just for him. He's more than eager to give you all of his attention, that wouldn't be hard, you're the only one he's seeing.

Felix licks his lips as his throat got dry from watching you and quickly recovers by splashing some water into the back of his neck, "I think compared to them, I don't think I'd have a shot with you," he furtherly explains.

You stare into his eyes and locked them in an intense gaze, "why? I think you're attractive," you tell him.

He unconsciously reaches for his ear as he gets flustered by your compliment.

"I think you know by now that three of the girls are chasing after you. Shouldn't you be happy?" You share the news Felix already knew. He wants to know something else, something more important, "depends," he says, "If one of the three is you then yes, I'd be happy."

A laugh burst out of you and Felix is elated to know that he's the one who made you laugh like that. There's something else as important he needs to know, "so what's your type?"

You fix the strap of your bikini and Felix reflexively looks at your cleavage, glancing at the soft mounds inside your bikini top, then quickly shifts his eyes back to your face.

"On the paper, no, you're not," you honestly answer.

Felix's smile fades a little but he keeps his disappointment to himself by sipping his drink.

"But I'm attracted to you," you add.

He swallows his drink at once and almost choked on it, the scintillating smile returns to his face.

"The fact that you're not my type but I'm attracted to you... I think that says something," you tell him with a sly smile. You hold his gaze before looking away and it's cute that you can be bold then shy the next minute.

He sees that you're eyeing the fruit platter next to him, "want something?"

You lowly chuckle and shyly say, "I was looking at your biceps actually but yes, okay, I'd like a strawberry, please?"

You always seem to know what to say and how to make his heart flutter, he can't help but softly laugh, flustered. You hold his hand by the wrist and steady his hand as you eat the strawberry right from between his fingers.

Felix briefly feels how your mouth and lips feel like. It's not technically a rule break and he was playing it safe until you did that. He clears his throat to steer his mind back on track, "Uhm... is that what you like about me? My biceps?"

You lick the juice escaping the corner of your mouth with your tongue, "you have a great body but what I like is the freckles," you share.

Felix unconsciously reaches for his face, "Yeah?"

You pull your hand out of the water and touch his chest, "I didn't know that you also have freckles on your chest."

Is it the beads of water slowly trickling down his chest or it's your fingertips that are lightly touching him that make him tingle inside? Felix feels the need to do the same with you. He reaches for the stray hair escaping your messy bun and tucks it behind your ear.

Instead of retracting his hand, he keeps it there, holding the side of your face.

-

FELIX: [Hisses] I want to kiss her so badly.

-

Felix may as well take his chance, leaning in close but doing it carefully as he seeks permission from you. He leans in closer to whisper in your ear with his hand still holding one side of your head, "Should we kiss?"

You put your hand on his thigh underwater and seductively chuckle, hinting that you probably think it's not a bad idea after all.

"I just got out of this thing," you avoid mentioning Jamie in the sentence, then you smile as you say, "I don't want to rush things."

Felix nods in understanding, "That's fair."

However, the hand resting on his thigh tells him otherwise.

-

FELIX: The chemistry we have is electric. I get the feeling that he can't resist me for long.

-

The date ends since it's about to be curfew soon. You and Felix exchange a hug, a long one that he gets to feel your body against him.

"That was a nice date," you mutter with a hand around his neck.

Felix uses the opportunity to draw you closer until your breasts squashed between your chests, "Yeah, indeed."

Being the gentleman he is, he gets out of the swimming pool first, then immediately offers his hand to help you. You take it without complaining, letting him hold you until you got out of the water.

Felix watches as the streams of water trickle down your body and your bikini stick to your skin, leaving so little to his imagination. He grabs a towel from a stack prepared on the lounger and put it around your shoulder.

"Thank you," you thank him, then he grabs one for himself and walks back into the house together.

-

FELIX: She refused to kiss but I’m confident to say the date went well.

-

The date may have ended but the night continues.

You both go straight to the bathroom with water dripping down your bodies and it's empty since everyone else is tucked in for bedtime. The spacious shower stall gives Felix an idea crossed but he's afraid of crossing the line to ask you.

"You can go in first," he offers.

You drop the wet towel and put it on the edge of the bathtub, "how about we shower together?"

Are you reading his mind? Because that's exactly the idea he had in mind. Felix suddenly doesn't know what to do with himself, aimlessly pacing around the bathroom.

"You can use my nice-smelling shampoo," you offer with a playful laugh.

"I can't say no to that," he replies.

Felix has to calm himself as you enter the shower after him, turning your back to him to help you untie the straps of your bikini. He puts all of your hair away and carefully works the knot open, you take it off yourself after. He watches as you hook your fingers around the sides of your bikini bottom and slide it down your legs, putting the bikini aside with your feet.

It's when you turn around to face him that he starts malfunctioning. There's nothing left to imagine now he sees all of you, that beautiful body of yours that he wants to explore if it wasn't for the stupid rules. You step under the shower and tilt your head up to let the water rain down your chest.

Felix has never been this jealous of the water for being able to be all over you.

"Want me to wash your hair?" You ask, taking the shampoo out of your toiletry bag.

Unable to verbally answers, he stifled a nod.

-

FELIX: I don't know how I'm still alive after seeing her phenomenal body [whistles]

-

It's the way you stare up at him with your hands slowly massaging his scalp and standing so close to him that it alarms him that he's rather in danger.

"Is it good?"

He's not sure what you're asking, the way you shampoo his hair or how your body makes him feel. He chooses to compliment you instead, "You're good at this."

"Yeah?" You ask with a grin.

"Mmh, yeah," he tries to distract himself by talking but not long after, he found his eyes looking at your breasts, hung so beautifully on your chest, merely inches away from his chest.

"Time to wash it," you inform, pulling him under the shower and washing all the suds away from his hair while brushing it clean with your fingers.

As you intently clean his hair, Felix braves himself to put his hands on each side of your waist and reminds himself to not go lower than that.

"It smells nice," he comments, opening his eyes from closing it for too long.

You drop your hands on his shoulders then clasped your hands together on the back of his head. With his proximity, your hardening nipples are lightly grazing his chest, raising the goosebumps on his arms.

"You're lucky I let you use it," you say with a sweet smile on your face and your eyes staring back at him. 

This is it. Felix has hit his limits. He can't resist it anymore.

-

FELIX: Oh fuck, I'm in trouble.

-

"I'm glad we didn't kiss on the date," Felix says.

You chuckle right at his face, "Huh? Why?"

Getting bolder, Felix wraps his hands around you and pulls you even closer, "Because now is the right time to do it."

Your teeth faintly biting your lower lip and he can see the lust in your eyes. Once you close your eyes, Felix knows that he just got your permission. The sweet smell of your breath welcomes him as he kisses your slightly parted mouth. You kiss him back with the same eagerness with a broken moan slips out of you between kisses.

Felix expected sparks but what he gets are far greater, fireworks getting off inside his chest.

-

FELIX: The kiss is such a long time coming and I just don't care about the rules at that moment. It feels so right.

-

You pull away first with a gasp and an open mouth, keeping your hands looped around his neck

"Wow. We made that kiss worth the six grands."

Felix grins in agreement with you, except that for him, the kiss is worth more than that. He'd pay with his own money if he had to, it was special, one of a kind. Then another problem appears, Felix craves for it more than before. He leans in for another but you're quick to turn your face to the side, sending his lips landed on your cheek.

"We can't break another rule today," you whisper into his ear.

Defeated, Felix drops his head on your neck and holds you close.

You reach for the faucet and turn it to the side, "How about a cold shower, mmh?" 

-

FELIX: A part of me is glad that she stopped me or else, we would have done everything by now [shamelessly laughs]

-

It was too late to have you sleeping with him last night.

Hopefully, later, he can fix this bed situation so he can wake up next to you and probably, sneaks a kiss or two. Seeing your face and exchanging a secretive smile is enough to gather his spirits to last the day.

Cole is going through his routine and asks everyone the question of the day, "anyone breaks any rules last night?"

He scans everyone to spot any guilty faces and Felix knows that he's safe from his suspicious eyes since Cole is his bedmate.

"You guys are looking guilty over there," Heidi points at Jamie and Mia's bed.

Fuck Jamie, he's so stupid to let you go but smart enough to leave you because you deserve better. Felix is confident that he is that 'someone better'.

Unlike everyone else, Felix can't wait for everyone to know that he kissed you and gets jealous of him.

-

FELIX: Another day, another chance to break the rules [winks]

- 

Too bad that despite his excitement, Felix can't spend time with you as you are being called to the front yard for a workshop with the other girls. He has no other things to do but join Alex working out and at the same time, helping him with some lower body workouts.

"You didn't tell me about your date last night," He says as he's taking a minute of a break between sets.

Felix counts the time and at the same time answering to his question, "It went great, man."

Alex is the one who encourages him to keep trying even when you were still with Jamie.

"Told you," he says with a triumphant smirk and getting up, grabbing dumbbells in both hands.

"Did you do anything?" Alex glances at him to get any hints from Felix's expression.

Felix refuses to answer but the grin on his face gives it away.

"How much did you spend?"

He's bad at lying and it's not like he's talking to Cole, which reminds him to look around, "Just one kiss," Felix answers after steering clear that Cole is out of his earshot.

Alex laughs and puts the dumbbells down, "just get ready, bro."

Surprisingly, Felix doesn't care so much about what everyone is going to say when they know about him breaking the rules.

"As an experienced rulebreaker, do you have any tips?" Felix playfully asks.

Alex laughs again and plops down on the hot sand, "I hate to tell you but the only way is through," he says with a stupid grin.

"Thank you, Dorothy!" Felix jokingly responds.

-

FELIX: I missed her even though I know she's only on a different side of the villa [chuckles]

-

Felix can't hide his smile when he sees you back from the workshop.

Moreover, he doesn't want to be around Jamie. The fact that he left you for someone else leaves a bad taste in him. Or maybe it's just that Felix grows protective of you that makes him feel that way.

"It's so hot. I'm thinking of taking a dip," you tell him.

He glares at you, "And you're not inviting me?"

"Yes. I'm not inviting you," you tell him with a sly smile, walking to the pool while dragging him along behind you.

Seeing your wet body only reminds him of last night, except that you have not even a thread covering that beautiful body of yours. He's standing next to you inside the pool, facing the view of the beach. He should distract himself from looking at your body by starting a conversation, or anything to keep his head occupied.

"So uh... how was the workshop?" He asks.

You turn to face him when he wishes that you didn't, "basically that when we let men into us, we also absorbed everything about them," you answer.

Your hand is floating on the surface of the water and drifting close to him, "it taught us that we should be more selective of the men we let in," you finish.

Can't help himself to touch you, he places a hand on the arch of your back, "that sounds great," he comments.

You nod and prop a hand under your chin, looking at him with a soft smile.

"What's your verdict on me?" Felix asks.

You tilt your head with a questioning look on your face.

He pulls you close and allows himself to place a kiss on your bare shoulder, "will you let me in?"

You shyly chuckle while putting your hand on his shoulder, "We'll see..." you vaguely answer.

-

FELIX: She may have not fully recovered from the previous thing but I think we're off to a good start.

-

You turn him around and jump onto his back, "get me there," you order.

"To the end of the pool?"

You nod, "and back," you continue.

"I didn't know that I have to do lower body workout," he says.

You throw your arms around his neck, "Go! Go! Go!"

Felix hoists you higher on his back and slowly walks to the end of the pool, carrying you on his back.

"Am I heavy?" You lean in close.

"If you're asking of we can do the wheelbarrow position, the answer is yes," he shamelessly pulls a lewd joke.

-

FELIX: It's so hard to not think about sex when she's walking around being the hot temptation she is.

-

The firepit is your favorite place in the villa and it unconsciously becomes his favorite place too.

"We're matching!" You exclaim, spotting the navy blue shirt he's wearing and pointing at the dress you're wearing.

"We're meant to be," he coyly responds.

If only you knew that he took a peek at what you'll be wearing tonight and purposely matches his clothes with yours. You sit next to him on the long sofa, lounging with him under the moonlight with the fire keeping the night warm for both of you.

You're lying sideway facing him and resting your head on his arm, this way, he can see the curve of your body wrapped in a skin-tight dress with thin straps.

He takes this chance to ask the question he's been wanting to ask, "Will you sleep on my bed tonight?" 

Your fingers are busy playing with the button on his shirt.

"For the rest of the retreat too?" He asks again.

You lowly chuckle, "No."

Felix jerks his head away, refusing to believe that you just rejected him.

You look up at him and say, "But you can sleep on my bed."

He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding and dryly laugh, "Oh yeah, we're going to evict Heidi tonight."

-

FELIX: The bed situation has been sorted, there's one more thing left to do now.

-

Felix runs his hand up and down your arm, "it's a nice dress," he compliments.

"I borrow this from Laura," you share.

The strap accidentally got caught in Felix's bracelet and pulls it down your arm, almost spilling your breast out of your dress.

"Whoops," Felix cheekily responds. He carefully fixes it for you and slides the strap back to its place on your shoulder.

It seems wrong to be this close to you and not kiss you. Not when that's what he thought about all day, the taste and the softness of your lips. Felix tilts your head and seeks your permission with a thumb that tenderly brushes your lower lip.You close your eyes, once again, letting him get what he wants and hopefully, it's what you want too.

Felix doesn't need to worry as you return his kiss with the same eagerness. He can taste your lips with a hint of mint that he believes is coming from your lip gloss. A hand wraps around your neck to keep you still as his tongue pries open your mouth so he can deepen the kiss and tastes you wholly. 

Everything else doesn't matter at that moment, it's just you and him, encased in a breathtaking kiss.

-

FELIX: I'm willing to pay with my own money just to kiss her again [shrugs]

-

"Do I have your lipstick on me?"

You nod as you wipe your smudged lipstick.

"Does it look good on me?" Felix leans in close so you can clean it for him.

"Yes," you reply, intently wiping the lipstick mark you left on his lips with your thumb.

With you still leaning close and your finger brushing his lips, Felix is tempted to kiss you again. You quickly sense his intention and look away to prevent it from happening. One kiss is enough, for now.

-

FELIX: I just can't stop... oh, my God! I don't want to stop.

-

It's only about time that Lana comes and announces the damage you both did.

Before that, you fix your dress and hair, leaving nothing that will give anyone the impression that the two of you have kissed. Felix holds your hand as you both make your way to the cabana and sit on the smaller sofa on the side of the room. He leans in close to the side of your head and softly asks, "Are you nervous?"

You take a deep breath and answer, "Yeah."

It would be a lie to say that he's not as nervous. This is his first time being on the hot seat but he knows what to do, he has his defense at the ready.

"It'll be fine," he comforts you while tucking a hair behind your ear.

The sweet smile you give him puts him at ease. Then you take his hand, clasped it together with yours, and rest it on your lap.

"Hello, everyone!" Lana greets with her computer voice.

"Hello, Lana banana!" Heidi being the loudest of us greets her back.

"There have been breaches of the rules," Lana announces.

Cole brushes his hair to the back in frustration and leans back on the sofa, "I'm so done with y'all."

Felix decides to own up to his mistakes and comes forward, "We kissed. Twice," he concisely admits.

Felix glances around and sees that Jamie is grinning, probably going to enjoy that he's not the one about to get shouted at. Instead of that, there's a moment of silence and he's not sure if it means good or bad.

"Well, if it's you guys..." Laura says, flipping her hair to the back, "I think you deserve it."

Alex nods, agreeing with her and Felix appreciates that Alex has his back like a good friend he is.

"I agree," Maeve adds with a smile shot at you.

-

FELIX: Whoa, what was that? That is not the reaction I was expecting we'd get [eyes widens]

-

"I feel like... you guys are building connections so..." Heidi gives her opinion.

Felix lets out a quiet sigh of relief and smiles at everyone, "Thank you, guys. We appreciate it," he says, shaking your clasped hand in giddiness.

He looks at you and you look back at him with a sweet smile. He feels more certain about his choices, this is right, you are right for him.

"But that's not all..." Lana drops a sudden announcement.

-

FELIX: Oh... fuck off, Lana!

-

"We have reached the middle of the retreat. However, certain individuals haven't shown the growth we wanted," Lana continues.

Felix feels your hand holding him tighter and he puts his other hand on you, rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand.

You put your head on his shoulder, "Is she sending us home?" You meekly ask him.

Considering that he has broken the rules that automatically put both of you on Lana's naughty list, his heart races in his chest. Felix doesn't want to leave yet. Now that he's with you, he wants to stay for as long as he could.

"I'll be sending home two people."

"Two? Right now?" Cole gasps in pure shock.

You nuzzle your head further into his neck, "what the hell," you softly murmur with a restless sigh.

Felix lets go of his hand to put his arm around you. He can't say much because he's not in a good position to know for certain that it's not you or him Lana going to send home.

"Oh, fuck!" Heidi sighs into her hands.

The situation turns even more bleak as everyone got hit by the realization that they can get kicked out at any moment and they should have taken the rules seriously.

-

FELIX: I'm absolutely shitting it.

-

"Come on, Lana! You can't be serious," Cole says with a nervous laugh.

"The guests leaving the treat are..."

Felix hears your panicked whine on his shoulder and reflexively pulls you closer to him, knowing that you seek comfort from him.

"Daniel and Aly."

"Oh, my God!" You mutter, slung your hand across his shoulder.

Everyone is in complete shock while a few of them kind of figured that they're the ones who have been fooling around the retreat and not taking the process seriously. Despite all of that, it'll be a loss not having them again in here. Felix cherished the time he spent with them even though he doesn't know them on a personal level.

"Since arriving at my retreat, you have ignored my rules, dismissed my teachings, and failed to grow. And pursued your own desires at the expense of those around you."

Everyone gets quiet as Lana explains the reasons why she sends them home tonight.

"Daniel and Aly, you must now leave my retreat."

-

FELIX: I think Daniel had a problem following the rules and always chose to be selfish.

-

"Love you," Aly mutters to you as she hugs you.

You sniffle and say back to her, "Love you, Al!"

Besides Maeve, Felix has seen you hang out with Aly a few times so he understands that it must feel like you're losing a friend. That only proves what a caring person you are and he's lucky to be with you.

After watching them leave, you turn to hug to seek comfort from each other.

-

FELIX: I hope they continue to grow outside of the retreat. I wish you all the best, Daniel and Aly! [smiles]

-

It's bedtime and he feels bad if he has to evict Heidi, he turns to Cole, kindly asking him to sleep with her.

"Don't let me down, okay?" Cole warns before taking his pillow with him to Heidi's bed.

He saw you're chatting with Maeve in the make-up room and that explains why it's taking you long to come to bed. He's listening to everyone else talking about Daniel and Aly leaving one bed unoccupied for the night.

When you finally appear, you're smiling as you make your way to his bed. You toss the cushion onto the floor to make some space on the bed while he's puffing your pillow for you, then puts his arm out for you to rest on.

Felix doesn't wait to kiss you on the cheek, "you smell so good," he says.

You smile and say, "I'm pretty sure it's the moisturizer."

-

FELIX: I'm sharing a bed with her and she smells so good [hisses air through teeth] It's not going to be easy tonight!

-

There is not an ounce of privacy in the villa but as time goes on, Felix has come to the point that he stops caring about it.

The lights are out and as you turn to your side, your body instantly molds against him. Felix almost lets out a lewd groan the moment your ass is rubbing against his crotch. His self-control is being put to the test tonight and he's most likely to fail at it. He plants soft kisses along your shoulder and up the column of your neck, "I'm so happy that we're sharing a bed," he whispers into your ear.

Felix hears you softly giggling and if only you knew how much he likes hearing your giggles.

You slightly turn your head to the side, "Me too."

He plants his mouth on your neck again and tries not to think about kissing your lips that are mere inches away from his.

"Mmh..." he hums as he plants his nose in your hair and the smell of your shampoo brings him back to that night he showered with you. He hums again but it comes out as a low growl with the deep voice he has.

You look over your shoulder and gently grips his chin, "let's not break any more rules," you lowly say.

He nods and hastily kisses the nape of your neck, "mmh... 'kay."

It's like his hands have their own brains, they start to roam around your body, feeling your clothed body all over. Well, he can vividly picture it in his head without looking, you're wearing a white, thin tank top with boxer shorts that barely cover your body.

"You're so beautiful," he seductively says into your ear.

Sensing that he's close to danger, you take his hands and clasped them with yours to prevent them from wandering around. Felix sighs in defeat, then breaks into laughter as you caught on to his bad intention.

You laugh along and turn to softly kiss him on the jaw, "Goodnight."

He returns it with a long kiss on your cheek, "Goodnight, babe."

-

FELIX: [sticks tongue out] It's clear that she has better self-control than me [laughs] 

-

You look adorable with your hair tousled, barefaced, and disoriented like an angel who has just fallen from heaven.

"Morning," he forgot that his voice is even deeper in the morning and slightly surprised you with it.

You sleepily smile at him, "Morning."

You reach for his head and slip your hand in his hair, lazily scratching at it.

Felix is smitten, he can look at your face for hours without getting bored. If only he could kiss you while he's at it, it would be perfect. He notices that your tank top slides to the side, almost exposing your breast. He immediately helps you fix it before anyone can see it.

Cole is calling for Felix across the room, "Are we good, bro?"

He chuckles knowing that he's asking whether he broke rules or not, "Nothing happened. I promise you," he assures him.

-

FELIX: I had the hardest yet the best sleep I had so far in the retreat.

-

"How are things going, my friend?" Killian asks.

Felix leans back on the sofa and looks at the beach with its postcard-worthy view.

"We've been good if that's what you're asking," Felix playfully replies then shot a glare at Cole.

"I have no problems with you breaking rules if you like each other," Cole defends his strict policy about rulebreaking. He stares at him and with a serious face asks him, "Do you like her?"

"I do," Felix replies without a beat.

He smiles out of the blue like a fool in love he is, "I started to notice these little things about her and find them cute."

Cole and Killian break into laughter in unison but Felix is too happy to feel offended and laughs along with them.

"Oh, boy!" Cole exclaims, enjoying making fun of him too much.

-

FELIX: [Covers face with hands] I like her so much it's so stupid. I don't know if she likes me back, I'm sure she is but... [shrugs] no, I actually don't know.

-

Seeing that you're done giving your daily interview, he begins searching for you in the house.

Instead of you, he bumps into Maeve and she knows right away he's looking for her best friend.

"She's in the bathroom," she informs.

"Thank you!" He quickly mutters to her, heading to the bathroom, seeing you standing by the sink and lathering your body with sunblock. It's time that he returns the favor you've done to him once.

"Need help?"

You smile the moment you see him standing in the doorway, "yes, please!"

Felix enthusiastically takes his position behind you, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder before lathering the skin with sunblock. Not that he's no longer attracted to your body, unfortunately, he will always be but he's getting better at controlling his impulses.

Sure it's tempting to untie your bikini and with everyone out of the house, you and him could have another round in the shower. He takes a deep breath when the urge comes up and reminds himself that he shouldn't break any rules, he's aiming to form a genuine connection with you to get a green light

He slips his arms under and around you, "you're so beautiful, babe."

You giggle in response and look at his reflection in the mirror, "Thank you!"

Without warning, he lifts you and carries you out of the bathroom like a sack of potato, sending you squealing, "I'm taking you with me everywhere.”

-

FELIX: Things are going better between me and her. We're happy with each other.

-

Knowing that none of you break the rules, Felix can relax when it's time to get to the cabana. He's sitting next to you, putting his arm around you and fiddling with the strap of your bikini, twirling it around his finger.

"Hello, everyone!"

"Hello, Lana!" He half-heartedly greets her back. From the sound of her ever-the-same computer voice, Felix gets the feeling that she's going to share the good news.

"I'm about to initiate my test."

-

FELIX: Oh shit. I was wrong to think that it was going to be good news.

-

"With the help of two new arrivals."

With Daniel and Aly left, it only makes sense that Lana brought new contestants into the retreat. Felix should have seen it coming and now, he's just nervous, afraid that it's going to be what he thinks it is.

"The first new arrival is Poppy."

Everyone starts to guess what she looks like just from her name.

"The second new arrival is Josh."

Now this is what Felix fears the most: what is Lana going to do with them? Because if it would be like the last time, Felix dislikes the idea.

"Two of you will be going on private dates with the new arrivals."

-

FELIX: Whoever this new guy is... I don't feel threatened. At all.

-

This is not good.

Things are looking up for him and Lana decides to stir things up by sending new guests which he's sure, not only going to change the dynamic in the house but possibly, cause some chaos too.

"They have selected the guests they are most attracted to from the choice of those in relationships."

Did Felix accidentally manifest it into reality? 

-

FELIX: Josh, my guy, you'd better not step on my toes.

-

"Josh has chosen to go on a date with..."

Felix's heart is beating out of control, it's like his body is telling him that his worst fear is about to come true. He closes his eyes and tries to be cool if it's you who gets chosen.

When Lana calls your name, his heart leaps and he closes his eyes.

"Of course!" He mutters under his breath. He didn't intend for you to hear it but he's a bit upset about being put in this situation.

-

FELIX: I trust her. It's this new guy that I don't trust.

-

Felix looks at you to see your reaction. You seem to be at a loss for words and turn rigid next to him. Unlike him, you probably didn't expect to get picked.

"You may now leave to get ready for your dates."

He pulls you into a hug and reluctantly lets you go, "See you later," he says and manages to put on a smile for you.

"Bye," you say to him.

He watches as you leave to go on a date with someone else.

-

FELIX: If she goes for this new guy, I'm not going to lie... [licks lips] I'll be absolutely heartbroken.

-

"How are you feeling, Felix?" Maeve asks from the end of the sofa, curious about his feelings about this situation as if his face didn't tell how worried he is right now.

"It's not easy," he answers, "I trust her but I can't lie, there's a little part of me that's worried."

Maeve gently pats him on the knee, "Well, Lana said it's a test so..."

She shifts on her seat to put her feet up, "it wouldn't be easy."

Felix's head is in overdrive. There are so many thoughts inside his head and most of them are not doing him good.

"Yeah..." he half-heartedly answers.

"But I know her and I'm sure she'll stay faithful to you," Maeve tells her.

Considering that it's coming from your closest friend in this retreat, Felix decides to hang on to those words. At least, after this, he'll know whether he can trust you or not.

-

FELIX: This guy chose her for a reason and that makes me restless [drops head into hands] 

-

The boys agreed to wear matching black shirts tonight. Felix just picked whatever piece of clothing he has in white color and put it on, having no energy to dress up for tonight.

Killian offers him the extra black shirt he packed with him, "You can wear mine, mate!"

Cole can only laugh seeing him so restless as they're hanging out by the fire pit and talking about the new guy when that's the last thing he wants to talk about.

"Are you nervous?" Jamie asks.

Felix knows that Jamie tries to take a dig at him, "not really," he coyly answers.

If only he knew that Felix is so close to losing it.

-

FELIX: My head is all over the place right now... I refuse to show it. I don't want to show my weakness.

-

Felix tries not to think too much about it. However, when you show up linking your arm with the new guy, he slouched down on the sofa to hide himself.

"Ooh... she's smiling," Killian quietly informs him.

He tries so hard not to look no matter how much he wanted to. He doesn't want to see you're happy with someone else.

"This is not good, man!" Cole adds, putting Killian's words deeper into him.

Felix covers his eyes as if it would stop him from facing reality. Cole aggressively pats his knee and not stopping until he snaps his head his way.

"They're coming this way!" He informs.

"Oh, fuck!" Felix curses under his breath and sits straighter on the sofa.

Good thing that with the job he has as a model, he knows how to put on a good front even though he's dying inside. He takes a deep breath and put on a straight face.

"Hey, everyone," you greet them as you descend the stairs to the firepit.

"This is Josh," you introduce.

Instead of parting ways, you decide to sit next to each other on the sofa across from him.

-

FELIX: Fucking hell, man?!

-

Jamie decides to be the one breaking the awkward silence, "How was the date?"

Josh nods with a smile on his face, "it was good."

The answer doesn't quite give Jamie the satisfaction, so he turns to you for another answer.

"It was nice. I think we got on well," you answer and glance at Josh.

"I've chosen her for a reason and I enjoyed the date. I think I'm going to try, get to know her better," Josh adds after you.

It takes everything in him to not go at him or snatch you away, out of this retreat. Felix starts to heat, inside and outside.

-

FELIX: Josh is a nice-looking guy and I can see that he's on a mission. Well, he's going to be a big problem to me [gulps air]

-

"I'm sure you guys have a lot to talk about," Cole kindly put the conversation to an end.

"Josh, right? We'll introduce you to the girls," he gets up, indirectly telling everyone to come along as well so you and Felix can talk.

Once they left, you walk over and sit next to him. He takes your hand resting on the space between you and him, "it's nice to have you back," he says with a smile.

You lean on the sofa and sit facing him, "yeah?"

He swallows air before asking you the question he's been dying to know.

"How was the date? Really?" He asks and nervously gulps air, it's like no matter how much air he takes, he stays breathless.

"Well, I did tell him about you," you begin.

That's a good thing but it's too early to celebrate yet, "yeah?"

"But he said he doesn't care," you continue with an awkward laugh.

-

FELIX: Oh, Josh, man, I'll never let you step on my toes.

-

You fiddle with the end of your hair before looking him in the eyes and continue talking.

"Josh is a nice guy but..." you put all of your hair to the side, "we didn't do anything."

Felix can't help but let a smile blooms on his face hearing your words.

You playfully grab his biceps and squeeze on them, "No one was going to change my mind."

The smile grows wider on his face and he can finally breathe for the first time.

"I know we have something great going on and I don't want to throw that away," you say with a soft smile that matches the gaze.

But Felix has one more question to assure him that he's made the right choice, "Does this mean you like me?"

Your forehead wrinkles in confusion, "Of course, I like you. I wouldn't have tried if I don't."

-

FELIX: Tonight, I am the happiest man on this retreat. Possibly the luckiest too [grins]

-

Ecstatic, he throws himself at you, sending both of you toppled onto the sofa. He rests his head on your chest and lets you brush his hair like you always do, "You're sweating," you tell him.

Felix laughs his embarrassment away, "I tried to stay confident but I was struggling."

You coo at him and brush his hair to the back, "Well, I kind of want to make you sweat a little."

He puts his arms around you and nestles his head in your neck, "I'm glad to have you back, babe," he says.

He gets carried away that he leans in to kiss you to abruptly stops as he remembers Lana's rules and gasps in shock, "Oh, fuck!" 

You cradle his head and kiss him on the cheek to compensate for it.

-

FELIX: I can't believe I'm about to thank Lana because this test only brought us closer, stronger. So thank you, Lana! [Blows a kiss to the camera]

-

The two new arrivals don't make a significant change except that the empty bed is now occupied.

Yeah, he's happy that Alex also stays with Laura and proves to everyone that he has a connection with her. However, Felix is too over the moon to even think about everyone else. His cheeks hurt from smiling non-stop and now he's about to spoil you with cuddles as you climb onto the bed.

Cole warns the new arrivals that he's watching even though his eyes are closed, earning a series of laughter from everyone.

The lights are out but with his heart full to the brim, Felix can't sleep. He touches you all over and places kisses on the skin he can land his lips on. He likes you so much and he always thinks that just saying it is not enough. He wants to show you with actions.

-

FELIX: We've been good lately so I don't see why we can't spend a little money [smirks]

-

Felix waits until the night got late.

When he deems that everyone is fast asleep, he begins by disrupting your sleep with slobbering kisses on your neck and face. His hand is placing fluttering touches on your body and once in a while, squeezes on the flesh.

He doesn't stop until you wake up from your slumber and when you do, he whispers into your ear, "Baby?"

You turn your head on your pillow and look at him with half-shut eyes, "why are you still awake?"

Instead of answering you, he kisses the nape of your neck, knowing that it's your sensitive spot.

"I like you so, so, so much," he whispers into your ear and emphasizes the words to you.

You lowly giggle, then tangle your hand in his hair, softly tugging at it, "I like you too, baby."

Catching you off guard, he turns your head by your chin and crashes his lips against yours.

-

FELIX: I'm so happy she chose me and I want to show her that [raises an eyebrow]

-

Felix gives you no time to stop him. He distracts you, keeping your mouth busy while he slides his hand down, swiftly sliding his hand inside your silk shorts. You whine against his lips as his hand makes contact with your sex, so soft and warm.

"Shh..." he hushed you.

Felix touches you as he would to a delicate flower, doing it so carefully and with so much tenderness. You pull the duvet to cover you and muffle any noises that may come out of you even though you have planted your mouth on his neck.

Felix hovers his head above you, watching your face in the dark as your breathless moans echo under the cover. He traces your fold, fingers lightly circling your clit and applying gentle pressures when he knows you're getting closer to coming undone, "Close?"

"Mmh," you hum in answer.

He keeps doing the same thing with more intensity and adds more speed to it. From the way your cunt pulsates under his touch, you're on the brink of your release. He kisses you whole to contain your moans and stops moving his hand once you hit your high, feeling your hand clawing at his shoulder.

As it gets suffocating staying under the cover, he retracts his hand and put the duvet away. He hovers above you and tenderly caresses your face with his knuckle. 

"I'm so happy that you're with me," he tells you just in case, what he just did, did not quite deliver the message to you.

You put both hands around his neck and pull him close, sending him collapsing on top of you. You turn your head to only give him a chance to capture your lips in a rapturous kiss.

Felix doesn't even think about the money at that moment. All he thinks about is you, you, and you.

-

FELIX: Let's think about the money later, when it's time.

-

It's his bad behavior last night that makes you act super careful today. You're sitting on the far end of the sofa even though he's patting the space next to him.

"Why are you sitting so far away, babe?"

You shrug and adorably pout, "I'm setting uh... a safe space?"

He laughs at your excessive effort to not create another damage to the prize fund, "Come here!" He insists.

"I wouldn't do anything," he promises, "at least not in here."

You refrain from coming at him and remain where you are, shaking your head at him. Felix eventually comes to you and puts you on his lap.

"I didn't mean to break the rules," he explains, "I wanted to show you how much I like you."

You're poking his freckled cheek with your index finger, "we have to be good from now on."

He nods in agreement, "I agree."

You hold his chin and turn his head to face you, "I'm serious!"

"I'm serious," he convinces you.

You cover his mouth with your hand, "then stop pouting your lips at me."

He chuckles and puts your hand away, "My lips have always been like this."

You put his hand to cover his mouth this time, "From now on, you have to talk to me like this."

He refuses to obey, then puts his hand away, "No, I don't want to."

You try to get away from him but he's quick to hold you down, not letting you off his lap.

"Where are you going, mmh?" He's tickling your neck with his nose.

-

FELIX: Lana called us to the cabana and I am shitting it because of what we've done last night.

-

"Somebody better not ruin my good mood," Cole says once he's seated.

Felix shoots an uneasy glance at you and you turn his head away, avoiding looking him in the eyes. Nothing wouldn't change, he's ready to defend himself and you for what he did.

"There has been a breach of the rules."

Lana doesn't dillydally, she goes straight to business, and by business, he means putting him at a stake and about to set him on fire.

Heidi looks at everyone and coo, "Who's been bad?"

Felix remains calm despite his heart feeling like about to jump out of his chest. It's always better, to tell the truth fast than prolong the pain.

"We kissed last night," Felix blurts out.

"Again?" Laura asks with eyelids fluttering.

He takes a deep breath before coming up with his first defense, "I was so happy last night and got carried away, it felt right in the moment to do so."

Cole gives him a death glare, "Was that it? Just a kiss?"

Felix hates to disappoint him but he can't lie, he doesn't have a good poker face.

"Something else also happened last night," Felix's voice goes lower than it already is.

"Oh, no..." Killian exclaims next to him.

Lana takes control of the situation, "Last night, the two of you kissed multiple times."

Cole's eyes widen and are about to pop out of their sockets.

"But that's not all they did," Lana continues.

Here it is, Felix squeezes your clasped hand and braces himself for what's about to come.

"They're engaged in a prolonged, manual gratification."

-

FELIX: I'm not sorry for what I did but I admit I feel bad for letting everyone down by being selfish.

-

"You have cost the group a total of $33.000."

Felix turns to you, seeing you wince in both pain and disappointment. But he appreciates that you don't blame it all on him even though it wouldn't happen if he didn't lead you to it.

"I'm speechless as to how much we've lost money this fast," Heidi says with her voice heavily tinted with disappointment.

"The prize fund stands at $86.000."

Everyone gasps in shock and face-palm hearing the announcement.

Cole shakes his head and sighs, "We lost more than half of the money, fuck... sake..."

-

FELIX: Hearing it makes it real and I genuinely feel bad.

-

"Today, I asked you to respect my rules but instead of building deeper and meaningful confections, you have continued signs that you may not be here for the right reasons."

Felix's heart drops and his head goes straight thinking that he'd be sent home tonight. He holds your hand tighter because this probably would be his last to do so.

"Therefore, I'm setting you the ultimate test."

Oh? He can breathe a little knowing that it's not elimination.

"To see if you can adhere to my retreat rules under the most trying of circumstances."

You slightly shift on your seat and scoot closer to him.

"Tonight, you will spend the night alone in the private suite."

-

FELIX: I'm screwed. I don't trust myself, that's the problem.

-

It doesn't take a genius to know that everyone is too haste to pull a conclusion: that Felix will fail.

"To be honest guys, I've always been the one who initiated it but not tonight," Felix makes a promise to himself and everyone.

"I'll not break any rules," he states and hopes that no one hears how his voice is quivering at the end of the sentence.

"If you did, that would be the most disrespectful thing you do to us," Cole says.

Felix raises his hand as if he's making an oath, "I promise."

"Please make your way to the private suite!" Lana orders.

-

FELIX: The pressure is on but it's the only way to prove that we have a real connection.

-

You jump onto the bed the second you both entered the private suite.

"Oh, it's so nice," you sigh, laying on the bed with a sheer dress on and looking at him with dreamy eyes.

"Stop looking so sexy," he says, getting on the bed and lying next to you.

The bed is much softer than the ones in the shared bedroom and covered in silk sheets. He looks around and sees sex toys, condoms, and even lubricants provided at the side of the bed.

"What do you want to do first?" You ask with a sultry voice.

Felix is not sure if you're being playful or trying to seduce him. Either way, he decides to play along with you, "First, I'll take your clothes off."

"Yep."

He glides his hand down your curve, "Then I'll give you head."

"And I’ll return the favor after," you continue with a sly smile.

That gets his eyebrow raised in excitement, "And after that…"

"And after that?" You repeat his words then bite your lower lip.

This is a dangerous game but Felix wants to test his limit, sees how far he can go, "We'll do some more foreplay, use a sex toy or two," he's eyeing the selections of sex toys on the bedside table.

You delightfully hum and turn over to lay on your stomach, "And after that?"

He takes a deep breath as he can vividly imagine it in his head in real-time, "Sex, " he lowers his hand to the curve of your ass, "Lots and lots of sex," he shamelessly adds.

You locked in an intense gaze with him and purposely lower your voice as you ask him, "What are you waiting for then?"

-

FELIX: Lana, what makes you think it's a good idea to put me in a room with her and not do anything? [Shakes head in disbelief]

-

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[i4oba]

nct dream as… / times of a day 𓈒✳︎🚃

[— might be a little suggestive here and there!]

✰ 6:45 am .. jaemin

helios, through the half lidded eyes of yours was there to greet both of you at the same time—you could feel its hands coming near your bare body, the rays of the sun hugging your shape perfectly, casting such beautiful silhouettes behind, you and jaemin blending all together in your hazy state. you could feel the weight of his arms on your waist, hugging you so tight, sweet nothings leaving his lips, barely above a breath, hoarse voice laced with sleep. his scent, the sweet fragrance is dizzying, the warmth of him engulfing you just as much as helios’ breath of the morning; the sky is rosy, as if it was blushing while taking its time to fully wake up, faint shades of orange and yellow dancing through it endlessly. it’s such a beautiful way to start a day, with your lover all over you, deeply ingrained in your existence.

✰ 1:20 pm .. chenle

with the fierce determination of hermes, an arm slung around your waist; you were there—sun burning the uncovered skin of your shoulders, sweat making its way down on your temples as you took a look at the beautiful postcard in your hands, quickly snatched from a souvenir shop you passed barely twenty minutes ago. with such beautiful words and phrases, cursive letters and the scent of blooming flowers, you handed it over to your lover, hands aching to intertwine. he takes it, honest smile on his face, mumbling something along the line of “i’m the luckiest guy around”, wanting nothing but strolling around the foreign city for the rest of the day, stopping just for a minute in front of a pastry shop. there are freshly baked croissants!

✰ 3:25 pm .. jisung

was it all just a coincidence or did he know about all of it, you cannot be quite sure of but you, in fact enjoyed the way he pulled you straight into the sudden dancing flashmob. the sun was shining, birds singing endlessly along with the folk music played by a kind-looking band of teenagers, flute and harp harmonising together with the occasional sound of the guitar; you did not know how to dance or what kind of dance you should think of, but your lover pulled you closer to himself and took the lead, precise moves following one another as you felt yourself become a gracious nymph all of a sudden, trapped in a human’s fragile body. “honey, you’re doing so great,” jisung beamed happily, hands travelling lower on your skin, smile so wide and heartwarming. “i love you, so much,” he mumbled into your ears, voice losing the battle against the beautiful music.

✰ 7:05 pm .. jeno

with dionysus musing in your ears, you take a sip of the rich, sweet red wine your lover poured a few seconds before. the important event you two should have gone to long forgotten, with absolutely lust filled intentions you touch jeno’s rosy lips, tugging at his messily made tie, thighs rubbing against each other as you pulled him closer to yourself. the voice of dionysus slowly fading, you could feel the inviting hands of eros, guiding every movement of yours with extra care, fully planned with a hint of sinful acts. you sighs against your boyfriend’s mouth, not caring about consequences, reputation nor anything else, as you put his hands on either side of your hips. you wanted him—you needed him at that exact moment, the taste of his lips intoxicating, almost too permanent.

✰ 8:50 pm .. renjun

with lips slightly parted, tongue darting out to wet them quickly, renjun focused on the way your bare body looked behind the canvas. he couldn’t keep his eyes off of your curves, the way your hands did such a bad job at hiding yourself, timid reflection making it all too complicated to even think about anything but you. he felt drunk, as he watched your neck, the beautiful thighs of yours, wanting nothing more than to look deeply into your eyes and touch you, touch you everywhere he can and everywhere you’d let him to do so; you were everything and even more, compared to helen of troy, magical and enchanting, alluring. “can you please finish that painting, my junnie…” you mumbled quietly, shaking your head slightly. “i need you.”

✰ 10:45 pm .. haechan

“you should never come back to this studio, man, taeyong will kick your ass,” you laughed so hard, tears were about to fall out of your eyes, replaying the freshly made song of your boyfriend. he was a self proclaimed master producer but the thing is—it was rather funny than good. of course you appreciated his effort in making a lovesong for you, to confess for the hundreth time and once more. you were his muse supposedly and even if it was unlistenable, you loved it. at least more than taeyong, who would be furious if he knew you two were there, late into the night, making out on the couch of his studio until your lips were swollen, out of breath and with only one thing in your mind: love, love and love. you would never do anything else, even if it meant taking the risk of battling twelve times like heracles.

✰ 11:35 pm .. mark

being faced with the rolling credits after god know’s how many movies being watched, you slowly rested your head on mark’s shoulder. you reached out for his hand so you could take it in yours, not caring about silly actors’ and actresses’ love affairs or the world ending in front of you. all that mattered was the two of you, the adoration you felt for him, how he needed to have you close to him. his hair falling into his eyes, you tried to brush it away from there cautiously, caressing his cheek ever so lightly. you’ve never wanted to kiss him more than you did at that moment, every rational thought vanishing from your brain at the beautiful sight of him, as if he was the long lost son of the oh so wonderful aphrodite. “do it, love. kiss me and i’m yours,” was all he said quietly.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Hi!! I'm sososo obsessed with Satyr König oml you're a genius (also I've binge read your whole yandere könig tag it's so perfect). Okay so sorry in advance for my English, but:

I can't stop thinking about a shy (and kinda pervert lmao) nymph reader who sees him, sees how big and strong he is and how well he secretly protects all her sisters (and how irresistible his big, thick cock is) and really falls in love and is wildly attracted to him, BUT she's very shy and the idea of telling him her feelings is too mortifying, so when he's out in the woods she sneaks in his den, tidies the place up, brings him some flowers as gifts (yeah im inverting the usual roles lol), snuggles in his bed of furs (maybe touches herself fantasizing about him-) and König, well, notices the changes in his house and is VERY perplexed, so one day he returns earlier than usual and sees this cute, soft and unaware nymph moaning and whimpering in his den, her face against his furs, all wet and willing and ready to mate while she quietly moans his name, eyes closed and face red- he'd go FERAL

The idea of desperately horny satyr König with a more than willing needy nymph makes my brain melt oml

(And btw, do you think you'll ever write Satyr König again, in general?)

Satyr!König goes absolutely feral, yes.

He noticed the lingering sweet scent at the mouth of his den already, a sugary, floral scent that he knows so very well. He knows it to his core, because his nose wants to follow that scent whenever he catches it.

Only nymphs smell this sweet, like flower meadows and moonlight, like spring water and honeycombs. The distinct scent of a kore is eerie, and only gets stronger when he walks further into his lair, but what’s more is that he recognizes who this particular scent belongs to… He has memorized her in his loneliness, and every time he catches a whiff of her in the air outside, he can’t help but grow hard.

He barely even notices the absence of his usual mess, that someone has washed all his cups and put his wine pots in order. His den has seen a lot of brooming, and there are fresh flowers placed on his oaken table, thoughtful bouquets hanged from the roots of his oak. But before he gets to inspect those odd little things further – he’s used to trampling flowers out in the wild, he never even thought of using them as decoration, but they do look kind of nice, don’t they? – he hears a soft whimper from the back of the den.

From where he sleeps, and isn’t it peculiar how he can now smell something else, now, too… Something irresistibly heady, something that demands action at once, making his cock stir and swell to the point where it’s almost painful. There’s another soft moan, calling to him like an enchanted flute: his whole den has changed from a dark dungeon into a soft, scented temple, echoing with the sounds of a maiden in heat.

He finds her spread over his thick, musky furs, furs that have seen countless lonely nights, and have to be changed every turn of the moon because they’re so grimy. She doesn’t seem to have any trouble with laying down in his filth, the rough furs that smell of seed and satyr sweat, of old musk and maybe a few tears. Satyrs cannot cry, they say, but that’s only because no one ever sees them do so. He’s spilled more than his fill of salt on that makeshift bed, and not all of it was ropes of hot seed…

“P–please…”

She sees him, sees how surprised he is catching her here, in the place all nymphs always try to evade. She sees how hard he is while watching her bare and panting there, all over his furs, lips swollen from lust. Both up and down, her lips are wet and quivering; she’s completely ready to be taken, and only the tiniest sliver of respect prevents him from fucking her senseless right here and right now.

“Please, I beg of you…”

But when she begs for it like that…?

He doesn’t hesitate a moment longer. He simply cannot.

And why waste time on thinking how she got here (or more importantly, why she got here?) Why mull on the hot question of why isn’t the loveliest creature on earth trying to get away from him?

“No need to beg,” he grunts as he lays himself upon her, cock hot and already leaking as it finds her entrance.

The smell of ambrosia envelops him as he glides inside, the whimper from his nymph a song of paradise. She smiles softly at such immediate lust, or is it the sun that comes out of the clouds, somehow reaching under the branches of this oak?

She welcomes him with open arms, a tear falling down her temple and into her hair as he tries to be gentle with her. But it’s not really his size or his lust that makes her cry. Her hands trail up and down his sides, they try to desperately wrap around his wide torso. She looks into his eyes while he starts to rut her, amazed to have been granted such a blessing at all.

“I’m in love with you,” she sighs into the air between them, her eyes glimmering with worship in the dim, earthy dusk of his den.

He messes up with his thrusts, breathing out his shock while hovering over her. She’s so delicate and frail, and so desperate for a nymph who’s supposed to be frolicking in the open fields… She should be climbing in the tall trees and giggling at centaurs from there, she should be admiring the full moon and the stars, she should be playing in the freshwater with her sisters.

He always thought this one feared him the most, slinking into the shadows beneath the trees whenever she saw him. Casting her eyes down as if she didn’t want him to notice her at all, never mocking or teasing him like the others did. That’s why he left her alone: because he didn’t want to break her. She was far too pure for someone like him.

But now she’s here, with flowers and a hot, wet body, trying to grab him so hopelessly in her fragile embrace…

“You can’t say things like that, little one,” he warns, feeling something akin to fear for the first time in his life.

“Why not…? It’s true,” she chimes there beneath him, a few more tears of joy rolling down her cheeks.

His chest is burning, but the only sound that comes out of him is a low growl. A warning and a plea.

“You shouldn’t tease an old faun.”

“And you shouldn’t stop what you only just started...”

He blinks at her answer, at her soft smile.

Then, he shoots down to kiss her neck.

She moans from love when he opens his mouth, careful not to puncture her delicate flesh with his teeth: he only devours his nymph with soft hunger, licking and sucking her soft skin. Her giggles and sighs drive him to the sweetest madness as he starts to make love to her under the earth.

His home has never heard such cries of joy, felt or seen such displays of devotion… He returns her confessions thousandfold, in every way he can. These silly little creatures always fear a satyr’s love is only about lust, and therefore escape such hollow adoration, but he’s not here to just ease the pain in his sacks.

He’s now forever bound to her, whether she knows it or not…

[lostloveletters]

Something Borrowed (Michael Corleone x Reader)

Summary: Michael Corleone is the last person you expect to see at your best friend Connie’s wedding, and the last thing you expect to happen upon seeing him again after so many years is spending the night together. Maybe, it'll turn into something more.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. No hate to Kay, she’s my girl, but wedding scene Michael drives me crazy🤭 She’s off living her best life elsewhere in this. Also, it was a lot of fun writing pre-everything Michael. Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Sexually explicit content involving unprotected sex. Light play fighting.

Champagne and giggles overflowed at Connie Corleone’s wedding to Carlo Rizzi. Plenty of red wine was passed around in pitchers for the old guard, of course. For you and the other women conscious of not staining the rainbow of cocktail dresses and flowing gowns that dotted the backyard, you opted for lighter fare in tall flutes that sparkled in the early autumn sun. 

Perhaps you were a bit too enthusiastic about the drink offerings, having already exchanged three empty champagne glasses for ones filled to the brim with glittering gold when the bride engulfed you in a hug. With a delighted laugh, you returned the gesture, kissing her cheek.

“I wanted to say thank you one more time for coming!” Connie exclaimed, her cheeks flushed pink from the excitement of the day. “God, it breaks my heart we couldn’t have gotten you a bridesmaid dress in time, but you look gorgeous.”

“Me? Connie, you look like a princess.”

“I feel like one,” she giggled.

“When you see your gift from me—I’m sorry it’s not more, I haven’t—”

“Stop it!” she scolded. “You came all the way from Europe just to be at my wedding. I couldn’t ask for a better friend.”

You didn’t bother correcting her. Her version of events sounded much nicer than you just got lucky with when the Red Cross put you on a boat home. “Anything for you.”

“I won’t keep you. This is probably the first time you’re eating real food in years. Mama, Sandra, and Theresa made most of it.”

Connie was right. You tried to savor your plate, packed with pasta drowned in homemade sauce, antipasto and crusty bread, and sandwiches that towered with fresh cold cuts. The Corleones knew a thing or two about good food, and had the means to pull the strings for the unfathomable ration books such a feast required.

A familiar yet unexpected voice startled you when your fork pierced a piece of mozzarella. “Is this seat taken?”

“Michael,” you practically gasped, taken aback by his even attending the wedding in the first place, but also how good he looked in his uniform. Cap tucked under his arm, medals and decorations on his chest, the photos you’d seen in the magazine didn’t do him justice. Finding yourself again, you gestured to the empty seat across from you. “Go ahead.”

“I can’t remember the last time I saw you, but you look great,” he said, his gaze fixed on you as he set his plate and glass down. He took you in, the girl he’d grown up seeing around the house and at school, now, without a doubt, a woman.

“You too, Captain,” you said, nodding toward the double bars on his uniform.

He snickered at your little joke, making you feel a bit more at ease in his presence. “I’m surprised you aren’t in the wedding party.”

“Honestly, I wasn’t even sure I was going to make it until a few days ago. I only just got back to New York on Thursday,” you said.

“You volunteered with the Red Cross, didn’t you?”

You nodded. “I was in England, and then France after the liberation.”

“Clubmobile, right?”

“Did Connie tell you?”

He shook his head, smiling the slightest bit. “All the pretty girls worked the Clubmobile.”

A mortifyingly girlish giggle escaped your lips. You quickly brought your glass to your mouth, though the champagne in it was likely the culprit of your embarrassing reaction to Michael’s compliment. Averting your eyes to the dancing guests, you tried to ignore the warmth that spread across your face.

You allowed yourself to look at him again a few moments later, relieved to find he was still sitting in front of you, amused, maybe even endeared, by you.

“You’re such a jerk, Michael,” you mumbled, only because he was your friend’s older brother, and when you were younger and starry-eyed and figuring out what it meant when your heart wouldn’t quite beat right around a boy, it was him who those tender emotions were kindled in secret toward—until you had your first real boyfriend.

He grinned at your remark, and the two of you ate and caught up in between his various family members stopping by the table to say hello. You weren’t sure what to make of his seeing you before any of them—flattered, a bit confused as well, but he laughed at your jokes and moved his seat closer to yours, so you must have been doing something right when he finally asked, “Do you want to dance?”

“I’d love to,” you said.

The chaos from Johnny Fontaine’s unexpected arrival and impromptu performance subsided when Michael led you out to dance. He held you close, the way soldiers had at the dances the Red Cross put on for servicemen, all to boost morale, or, as the war went on, to offer a break from reality. Among the many rules meant to be followed—and typically broken in one way or another in the haze of war—was to keep some emotional distance from the enlisted men, for your sake and their own, but with bodies so close together, tender touches and soft whispers over songs of twilight and moonbeams, it was tough not to be caught up in romance’s alluring snare.

Even then, with the war behind both of you, something about being in Michael’s arms made you truly understand why some girls risked their assignments for a man. There was something in how he looked at you, different from your childhood together, even from a few minutes prior. You felt breathless despite the slow song you swayed along to.

“Did you like Paris?” he asked quietly, throwing you for a loop.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Paris?”

“You were in France, weren’t you?”

“Not Paris.”

“Where in France were you slinging doughnuts, then?”

“Little villages a few miles out from the front, mostly. More cows than people, but nice enough once the fighting stopped, and it was finally quiet—as quiet as it could get, anyway,” you said. “When Connie wrote you’d been wounded, I couldn’t help but think the worst. Plenty of guys out there—well, that article sure put me at ease. All the girls were jealous when I said I knew you.” You smiled. “I’m glad you’re alright, Michael.”

He glanced at your lips, and for an aching moment you were sure he was going to kiss you, but instead he gave you a smile, one that was real and made your heart flutter nevertheless, but left you disappointed.

“Where are you staying since you’ve been back?” he asked.

He seemed familiar with the hotel you were staying in when you mentioned it, offering to drive you back after the reception ended, and Connie and Carlo left for their honeymoon. 

“It’s only until I can find a boarding hotel that has space,” you said. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be the Barbizon, but I’m not moving back in with my parents.”

“Here’s to that.”

The rest of the day and into the evening, Michael hung around you, unless he was pulled away by members of his family, each instance an annoyance to him. You knew they weren’t exactly supportive of his enlisting, but the situation couldn’t have been that bad, not since he was home, safe and sound at his sister’s wedding.

The Corleones, though endlessly kind to you, always been an odd family, and you learned through your friendship with Connie not to ask too many questions.

But Genco Abbandando was dying, and Vito insisted Michael go with the rest of the Corleone men to pay his respects to the elder. When you offered to take a cab back to your hotel, Michael promised the visit wouldn’t be long, suggesting you wait at the house with his mother until he returned to drive you into the city.

Your foolish desire to spend more time with him led to your waiting in the Corleones’ kitchen for a little over an hour, when you likely would’ve been showered and in bed in your hotel room by the time he arrived back for you, in one hell of a hurry to get you into his car and presumably get away from his family.

“Do you ever think about leaving New York?” he asked when the house was out of view.

You laughed. “Michael, I only just got back.”

“That’s not what I mean. The war—it wasn’t going to be forever, but it let you see what life could be like away from all of this, didn’t it?”

“Of course it did. I’m honestly not sure what I’m going to do with myself now,” you said. “How about you? Are you going back to school? Dartmouth, I mean.”

He nodded. “I start again the spring semester.” At a red light, he glanced over at you. “New England’s nice. Better than French cow country.”

“And do you suppose I could study in the department of pouring coffee and serving doughnuts?”

“You’re smart. I think you have a real future,” he said, the sincerity in his voice startling you. “All of that back there, that’s not for us. It never has been.”

You were silent for a few moments. “I guess you’re right.”

The city lights twinkling in the distance took the place of the stars they blocked out from the sky, growing larger as Michael crossed the bridge into Manhattan, the center of the universe. You’d never tell a soul how you cried just a few days prior upon seeing it again for the first time in years.

Besides his talk of the future, Michael kept the conversation light, and you could’ve sworn he was flirting with you. Working the Clubmobile, you learned quickly how to pick up on it, some men laying it on thick while others were irresistibly smooth. Michael could’ve easily just been teasing you, the way a friend’s older brother would, but when he pulled up to your hotel, either your ego or curiosity prompted you to invite him up for a drink.

You sobered up on the drive into the city, enough to remember you didn’t have any drinks in your room. The two of you would have to go to the hotel bar for that, but then you and Michael wouldn’t be alone, not how you wanted, anyway.

To your relief, he agreed.

With Michael in uniform, few questions would be asked by hotel staff as to why you suddenly had a man with you when you checked in on your own. It would have been easy to lie, claim he was your fiance who had only just gotten back Stateside. But you supposed you and Michael already looked the part, walking arm-in-arm through the lobby without an issue.

Your confidence soared on the elevator ride up to your modest room, which you let Michael into, knowing he wouldn’t judge the state of your accommodations.

“Mind if I make myself comfortable?” You didn’t wait for his answer, pulling your blouse from where it’d been tucked in your skirt. Slipping out of your heels, you sighed softly in relief.

“It’s your place,” he said, setting his coat over the chair in the corner and loosening his tie.

You grabbed his cap from where he set it down and placed it on your head, tilting the brim over your face a bit and posing in front of him with a hand on your hip. “How do I look?”

He sat down on the edge of the bed, giving you a once over, “I swear I saw you pinned up in some guy’s tent looking just like that.”

You laughed, taking the cap off and flinging it aside. “Oh, I don’t even know why I invited you up here!” Your laughter faded as something in your stomach turned sour, the situation feeling achingly too good to be true. Alone in a hotel room with Michael, the two of you entirely capable of making your own mistakes on the off chance he wanted you too. “Or why you even agreed to come up.”

“I didn’t come up here to drink.”

“No, you did it to be nice, because we’ve known each other for so long…” You sighed, sitting next to him. “I always figured you thought of me as your kid sister’s annoying little friend or something.”

He shook his head, saying your name softly in either protest or reassurance. His hand cupped your face as he turned it toward him, his thumb rubbing soft circles in your cheek. “Not for a long time. Especially not tonight.”

You kissed him, hands gripping his shoulders, closing your eyes as you melted in his embrace. Your skin feverish at his touch, you shuddered when his hand slipped up your untucked blouse until his fingertips reached your bra.

To say you hadn’t fantasized about Michael would have been an unconvincing lie to anyone who dared ask, but even in your wildest dreams, it was never quite like this, so bold and irreverent in the face of the tradition the two of you had just spent the day celebrating.

“I came up here because you’re beautiful,” he confessed against your lips, “because you’re the only familiar face I saw at my sister’s wedding that didn’t make me wish I were somewhere else.”

Silencing him with another kiss, your fingers raked through his soft black hair as your body pressed flush against his, unsure if you could withstand hearing more of his tender words without falling to pieces. You couldn’t, not so early in the night, but his desire grew difficult to ignore when he pulled you onto his lap. The pressure against your pussy made you moan, and with a hasty desperation, you shimmied out of your panties as he unbuckled his belt, freeing his hard cock within a few moments.

You slipped a hand between the two of you, pumping his length, feeling the way it twitched at your touch and gasping when Michael’s hips bucked. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, a whisper of an intent to devour you.

“I need you, sweetheart,” he groaned. “Need to feel you.”

Lifting your hips, you whimpered upon feeling his head brush your clit as you positioned yourself, slowly lowering as he filled you, cock throbbing against your walls that clenched around him. He assuaged the pain of taking all of him with a gentle kiss and soft praises, urging you to take your time, that you had all night together.

All night. The promise he would stay, at least until the morning, sent a teasing wave of pleasure through you. Gripping his shoulders, you tried to keep a steady pace as you rode him, wanted to show him that staying would be worth his while. He’d been right in the car, you wouldn’t be a virginal, wedding white bride. The both of you had seen and experienced too much to be considered innocent any longer, but it was something you shared, that no one else from that day would have understood.

Your thighs ached as you neared your climax, desperately chasing it despite the exhaustion that was creeping up on you. Crying out in frustration, you buried your face in the crook of Michael’s neck.

“I’m close,” you whined. “Michael, I—”

“I’ve got you,” he assured you, his hands making their home on your hips. 

Your eyes fluttered shut as you let him guide your body, his thrusts doing most of the work while you rocked against him, seeking the friction against your clit that would bring you to release. It caught in your throat, a broken groan from your lips to his ears as you came, clenching around him, pleasure rolling through you, rattling your body like thunder. You barely caught your breath when he came, shuddering against you, practically cradling you against him as he filled you.

With a whimper, you lifted yourself off of him and rolled back onto the bed. Placing your hand on your chest, you felt your rapidly beating heart beneath your fingertips, focusing on it as it slowed the following minute or so and ignoring the stickiness between your legs, the evidence you slept with your best friend’s older brother. 

Michael leaned over, brushing back the hair that stuck to your face. “What are your plans tomorrow?”

“Looking through the classifieds for a job,” you said honestly.

“Wanna put it off for a day?”

“With what money, Michael?”

“I’ll give you a line of credit.”

You grabbed one of the pillows from behind you, throwing it at him with a laugh. “Jerk!”

He grinned, pushing it aside to grab for one of your arms. You put up a weak fight, your breathless laughter giving away his almost certain win.

Having pinned you down beneath him, he pressed you for an answer. “So?” He kissed you. “What do you say, sweetheart?”

You rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself. “I guess I can clear my schedule for a dashing war hero like you.”

“Dashing, I like the sound of that,” he murmured, bringing his lips to yours again, softly, with a tenderness that promised more for tomorrow, and even the day after, if you’d have him. 

You smiled. “Me too.”

[astralaffairs]

hi!! before i go i jus wanna say, I love your work 🙏🏽 and I finally watch hamilton last night so I might write for it as well 😋😋 but i have a drabble idea.

anyways— thomas having a dance/ball for a campaign during the election and he meets aaron’s little sister, mc, who snuck in. and he can’t help but take interests in her.

“Now, what’s a lady like you doin’ getting a drink just for yourself? Nobody’s offered to do that for you yet?”

Y/N froze as her fingers met the stem of the champagne flute. She had promised herself she would stay to the outskirts of the ball, and her only goal for the night had been to avoid courting attention. However, the packed room was warm, and it was only more so at its perimeter under the lights, and the crisp bubbly had looked oh-so-inviting.

She turned with a polite smile as she picked up the glass, but her eyes widened when she saw the man behind her with his gleaming smile and his velvet suit. She recognized him instantly; after all, she’d seen him before, and he’d even been in her home, but they’d never formally met. He raised an eyebrow when her smile faltered. “I’ve only just arrived. I haven’t had a chance to speak to much of anyone just yet.”

“Then I’m gonna have to count myself lucky to have found you when I did. Thomas Jefferson.” He offered her a hand as he introduced himself, and when she took it, he dipped down to press a soft kiss to her knuckles. Her eyes went even wider.

She cleared her throat as he drew himself back up to his full height, still holding her by the fingertips, and it took a moment for it to occur to her to withdraw her hand. “You’re the host of this ball, then, if I’m not mistaken. Thank you for opening your home to us like this.”

“Believe me, sugar, the pleasure’s all mine,” he said. “Who’re you here with? Feel like I’ve seen you around, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Oh, um, my family’s here somewhere. I came on my own, though, and I was planning to meet them here.”

“Your family?” He pursed his lips. “You’re not a Schuyler, are you?”

“No, no, certainly not,” she replied before hastily adding, “although the Schuylers are lovely people, of course. To be a part of their family would make one lucky.”

“So you know the Schuylers, then?” he mused, and she nodded. His growing smile was making her mouth go dry. “I know where I recognize you from; you’re a Burr, aren’t you? Aaron’s sister?”

“I am, yes.” Her smile was tense, laced with unease. His grin was bright as he plucked a drink for himself off of the table behind them.

“So why haven’t I seen you at one of these before? Your family trying to keep you locked away from all the politics?” he asked, and as her eyebrows fell, he could see the look in her eyes sour.

“They’ve decided I can’t be trusted at this kind of event,” she said bitterly, and he quirked a brow. “Aaron claims he’s afraid I’ll say the wrong thing and jeopardize his career, but really, I think he just can’t deal with the idea of splitting people’s attention between us.”

“But you finally proved yourself trustworthy?” he asked mildly, taking a sip of his drink, and she shrugged uncomfortably.

“I suppose so.”

“Then where’s your dear brother now, hm? Why aren’t you here with the rest of your family?” He watched her expectantly, and when she didn’t answer right away, his grin broadened. “They don’t even know you’re here, do they?”

“No, and you’re not going to be the one to tell them,” she said sharply, pointing her champagne flute at him. He raised his eyebrows, amused by the fervor in her tone. “I had to walk miles alone in the dark to get here; I am not being thrown out as soon as I arrive.”

“Well, sweetheart, if you’re not with them, then really, I should be sendin’ you on your way.” Despite the threat, his voice was breezy, and she frowned.

“And what do you have to gain from kicking me out?”

“The respect and appreciation of your family,” he suggested blithely. “The knowledge that I’m not leavin’ a young lady to walk home alone ‘n vulnerable at the end of the night. ‘S just the right thing to do, really.”

She eyed his small smile for a moment before slowly asking, “But despite that, you’d rather I stay, wouldn’t you?” He shrugged unabashedly. “You’re quite shameless, aren’t you, Mr. Jefferson?”

“Only on a good day.” He winked as he took a sip of his drink. “After all, you went through all that effort to get here. There’s gotta be a good reason for it, huh?”

“Of course. I’m here to expand my mind just like everyone else," she said, and he raised an eyebrow.

“And not for the charming future president we’ve got roaming the ball?”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware there was one. Let me know if you see him?”

His full laugh proved him undeterred, and Y/N’s self-satisfied smile was reluctant. "'M glad to see you inherited more of the family wit than your brother seemed to."

"Please, don't tell him that. A lady needs to keep some things a secret."

"It'll stay between us, then," Thomas said, "but I don't think I ever got your name."

"Why, so you know whose presence to report to my brother?"

"So I know who to ask after the next time I see him." His response was quick, and it had Y/N on her heels. Her eyes were wide, eyebrows raised, but when she opened her mouth to answer—

"Y/N." Both she and Thomas turned on their heels at the loud voice to find her brother striding across the room toward them, and her groan was unchecked. The fury in Aaron's voice was barely contained. "What in the world do you think you're possibly doing here, sneaking out after dark? How did you even get here?"

"I brought myself, since nobody else was willing to take me," she bit back, and Thomas raised his eyebrows as he took a sip of his drink.

"That wasn't your decision to make," Aaron snapped. "We are a family, and you have to respect that—"

"Respect what? That you have total control over my life in the name of family values? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?" she asked. "I respect that you have a career and a reputation to maintain, but I am a person, and—"

"And nothing, Y/N. Put the drink down, and leave Mr. Jefferson at peace," he demanded, and Y/N narrowed her eyes, her jaw set. Aaron turned to Thomas, and much of the fire in his voice had subsided when he said, "I'm sorry for her intrusion, Thomas. We didn't know she had followed us here, and we'll send her home at once."

"Now, Aaron, what makes you think she's uninvited company?" Thomas asked, and both Y/N's and Aaron's brows were raised. "Y/N's my guest here this evening; 's the opposite of an intrusion."

He frowned, glancing between Thomas and Y/N. "You mean you're responsible for her presence here tonight?"

"Well, I invited her, so I suppose you could say that," he said casually, and if he winked when he caught Y/N's eye, Aaron didn't think anything of it. Aaron's lips were pursed and his shoulders tense as he glanced between them.

"Why didn't you tell me Thomas had invited you?" he asked Y/N, and she shrugged.

"I didn't think you'd want to hear it, and I didn't want you trying to prevent me from coming."

"If I'd known he asked you to come—"

"So, what, my personhood is dependent on his permission now?"

"Your presence here is, at least."

"As a Burr, I would've been welcome either way."

"Not unattended, however."

"I can attend to myself just fine."

"You know that isn't what I mean when—"

"Aaron, was there somethin' else you needed?" Thomas cut him off, and Aaron's gaze was affronted when it snapped to him. However, he held his tongue. "I was just about to ask Y/N to dance, assuming that's her decision to make 'n all."

Y/N had to bite back her smile at his words, and although Aaron seemed to recognize the challenge in them as his jaw ticked, he said, "Of course. I'm sorry to have interrupted."

"Don't sweat it. Your concern for your sister is awful sweet, even if it isn't needed here," Thomas responded, his smile warm.

"'Concern' isn't how I'd describe it," Y/N muttered bitterly, and Thomas nudged her with his elbow. She frowned.

"Carry on 'n enjoy the rest of the ball, though, and please send my best to your wife," he said. Aaron could only offer a tense smile in response.

“You as well. I suppose I should go find Theodosia.” He looked down skeptically at Y/N. “How are you planning to get home?”

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, I…” She hadn’t thought that far, so her gaze was hopeful when it snapped to Thomas, who held her with a hand at the small of her back.

“I’ll arrange for a carriage to take her home,” he promised. “Don’t you worry, Burr. She’s in safe hands.”

“Right,” he said hesitantly, looking Thomas over. “I’ll leave you to it. Don’t do anything stupid, Jefferson.”

“‘S like you don’t even know who you’re talkin’ to,” Thomas said incredulously, and Aaron scoffed.

“I’m sure.” He barely spared them both another glance before departing unceremoniously, shaking his head all the while, and Thomas chuckled. Y/N turned back toward him.

“You’re a regular local hero,” she said sardonically, but the smile in her eyes betrayed her bored tone. Thomas grinned.

“I do try, sweetheart,” he said lightly, “maybe even in a way that deserves a ‘thank you’?”

“Thank you.” Her voice was sincere. “Really. I owe you.”

“Well, if you mean that,” he said, and his eyes were shining as he looked down at her, “I wouldn’t mind making good on that dance I mentioned. Unless you’re in a real rush to get back to your dear old brother.”

He offered her his arm with an eyebrow raised, and she left her empty glass on the table behind them when she took it, drawing a wide grin from him. “How could I say no to our charming host?"

[whereforarthur]

Wedding Day Bliss~

Request: I had this idea if a wedding day. Like the whole wedding day leading up to the end of the night. Like the saying their vows and it being really emotional and George tearing up when she is walking down the aisle and the reception and all their friends and family watching them be so in love. Also their first dance as husband and wife I think would be so cute then sharing kisses and just being in their own bubble with George’s friends making speeches.

Pairing: George Clarkey x reader

Rating: PG-13

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 3.3k

*****

"The best thing you can do is find a person who loves you for exactly who you are: good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you. The right person is still going to think the sun shines out of your ass. That's the kind of person that's worth sticking with." —Juno

"You okay, mate?" Arthur's voice cut through the early morning chill as George stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His hand hovered over the shaving cream, his eyes bloodshot from last night's festivities.

"Yeah, just trying to remember what year it is," George joked, rubbing his hand over his unshaven face. The wedding was in a few hours, and the nerves were starting to set in. He had never felt so alive, so ready to embark on a new chapter with the love of his life. Yet, the gravity of the promise he was about to make weighed on him like the hangover he was pretending not to have.

The house was buzzing with activity, the air thick with excitement and anticipation. The smell of fresh flowers wafted in from the open windows, mingling with the faint scent of his mother's famous breakfast spread. He could hear the distant chatter of the bridesmaids, the occasional burst of laughter, and the clinking of champagne flutes as they toasted to the soon-to-be newlyweds. George took a deep breath and turned to face the day ahead.

When she reached him, George's hand trembled slightly as he took hers. The priest's words were a gentle hum in the background as they exchanged vows, their eyes never leaving each other's.

"Y/N," George began, his voice clear and steady despite the tumult of emotions churning within him. "Thank you for loving me, for understanding me, and for putting up with my friends. They're a wild bunch, but they're mine, and you've welcomed them into your heart without question." He paused, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he thought of the countless nights spent cleaning up after their drunken escapades. "I promise to stand by you, to cherish you, and to laugh with you, even when they're singing off-key karaoke at three in the morning."

Each word felt like a promise etched into their very souls, a declaration that no matter what life threw at them, they would face it together. And as he slipped the ring onto her finger, he knew that he had made the right choice.

The congregation chuckled softly, and George felt a warmth spread through him. He took a deep breath and continued, "I vow to support you in your dreams, even if it means watching every cooking show on Netflix with you." He winked, remembering her passion for culinary mastery, which often resulted in kitchen disasters that only she found amusing. "To be your partner, your confidant, and your rock, as you are mine."

"And now," the priest announced, turning to Y/N, "it is your turn to speak your vows." She took a deep breath, her hand tightening around George's. Her voice was steady and sure as she began, "George, my love, from the moment I met you, I knew you were different. Your kindness, your humor, your unwavering loyalty—these are the traits that have made me fall in love with you over and over again."

The room grew still, captivated by her every word. "I promise to be your home, a place where you can always find comfort and peace. I vow to stand by your side, through every challenge and every victory, holding your hand through it all. I will laugh with you, cry with you, and maybe even dance with you when you're feeling particularly courageous."

Her eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief, and George felt his cheeks warm at the thought of their many dance floor disasters. She went on, "I will cherish every moment we share, from the mundane to the magnificent, because each one is a gift that I never knew I needed until you gave it to me. I will love you fiercely, George, because you have shown me what it means to truly be loved."

The room was silent as the gravity of her words settled over the guests. The emotion in her voice was palpable, and George felt his heart swell with love for this incredible woman. He couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life making her as happy as she made him.

"You may now kiss the bride," the priest announced, breaking the spell. George leaned in, his heart racing, and kissed her softly. It was a kiss that spoke of their future together, a gentle promise of love and protection. The congregation erupted in applause and cheers, and the organist began to play the wedding march.

They walked back down the aisle, hand in hand, smiling at their friends and family. The warmth of their union seemed to radiate outwards, wrapping everyone in a blanket of joy. The light from the stained glass windows painted them in a rainbow of colors, as if the very walls of the church were celebrating with them.

*****

The reception was held in the manor's lush gardens, under a grand marquee that had been set up especially for the occasion. The air was filled with the sweet scent of roses and the sound of laughter. The guests were already mingling, eager to congratulate the newlyweds. As they stepped outside, George and Y/N were greeted by a shower of confetti, thrown by their exuberant friends and relatives. It was like stepping into a whirlwind of love and good wishes.

Throughout the evening, George couldn't help but steal glances at his bride, her smile never fading, her eyes always sparkling. They danced, they talked, they laughed, and with every shared moment, he felt his heart swell with love. The speeches from his friends were equal parts embarrassing and endearing, each one reminding him of the incredible journey that had led them here.

But it was Arthur's speech that truly stole the show. He took the microphone with a grin that was a mix of mischief and affection, his eyes twinkling as he began to recount their escapades from over the years. The room grew quieter, anticipating the tales that were about to unfold.

"Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends," Arthur started, his voice carrying over the clinking of silverware and the gentle hum of conversation. "I stand before you today, not just as George's best man, but as his confidant, his wingman, and occasionally his designated driver." The crowd chuckled, setting the tone for the heartfelt roast that was to come.

"Now, I've known George for what feels like an eternity," Arthur continued, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "We've been through it all—the good, the bad, and the questionably legal. And through it all, he's remained the same lovable, slightly disaster-prone man we all know and love."

The crowd chuckled, and George felt a warmth spread through him as Arthur winked at him. "But today, we're not just celebrating George and Y/N's love story," he said, his tone growing serious. "We're also saying goodbye to the bachelor days, the nights out that ended with pizza on the floor and George's head in the toilet." A collective groan echoed through the room, followed by laughter. "And Y/N, let me just say, you're a brave soul for taking him on. You're not just gaining a husband; you're inheriting a lifetime subscription to 'What the hell was I thinking?' magazine."

Arthur raised his glass, and the room fell silent. "But in all seriousness, George, I couldn't be happier for you. You've found someone who not only puts up with your terrible taste in music and your obsession with superheroes but also makes you a better man. And Y/N, you're not just stealing him from us; you're giving us back a George we haven't seen in a long time—one who's more at peace, more content, and dare I say it, more responsible."

The room erupted in laughter, and George couldn't help but feel a twinge of truth in Arthur's words. Y/N had indeed changed him for the better, bringing order to the chaos that was his life and filling his days with a warmth he hadn't realized he was missing. He looked over at her, her cheeks flushed with a blush that made her look even more radiant, and knew that every second of this new journey with her would be worth it.

As Arthur wrapped up his speech, the DJ took over. The air was electric with joy, and George found himself drawn to Y/N, ready for their first dance as husband and wife. The first dance was a slow, sweet melody that had been playing on the radio the first time they had kissed. As George held her in his arms, their bodies moving in perfect sync, he whispered into her ear, "Thank you for choosing me." Her eyes searched his, filled with a love so deep it seemed to hold the secrets of the universe. "I've always chosen you," she murmured back, her voice filled with a gentle certainty that washed over him like a warm summer rain.

*****

The evening passed in a blur of shared glances, whispered promises, and stolen kisses. The air was electric with love and happiness, and every moment felt like a precious memory in the making. As the night grew darker, the stars began to twinkle outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, echoing the sparkle in their eyes.

Their friends and family watched with smiles, some with misty eyes, as the couple moved in perfect harmony. The lyrics of the song spoke of a love that had withstood the test of time, a promise of forever, and George felt it resonate deep within him. He whispered sweet nothings into Y/N's ear, her cheek pressed against his chest, and she giggled, her happiness infectious.

He couldn't stop thinking about how lucky he was to have her, to call her his wife. Every few seconds, he'd lean down and press a gentle kiss to her forehead, her cheek, her lips—any part of her he could reach without breaking the rhythm of their dance. Her eyes would flutter closed with each touch, a soft sigh escaping her lips, and he knew she felt the same overwhelming love that he did.

A silent conversation of love and adoration that didn't need words to convey the depth of their feelings. The music swelled around them, a cocoon of sound that blocked out the world and left only the two of them, spinning and swaying to the beat of their hearts. The warmth of her body against his was a reassurance that she was real, that this wasn't just some beautiful dream he would wake up from.

From the sidelines, George's friends couldn't help but tease him. They had never seen him so lost in a moment, so utterly consumed by happiness. "Look at him," Chris murmured to Arthur Hill, his own partner in crime at past escapades. "He's gone soft."

Arthur Hill chuckled, raising his glass. "It's about time," he said, a hint of sentimentality in his voice. "He's been chasing that love bug for years. It's good to see him finally catch it."

Their banter grew louder, a playful jab here and there, but the affection behind their words was unmistakable. "You know, I never thought I'd see the day when George Clarkey would be this whipped," Arthur quipped, earning a playful glare from George.

Chris, Max, Arthur, and Arthur Hill had been the life of the party, charming the guests with their wit and camaraderie. They had been an integral part of George's life for years, and seeing them interact with Y/N and her friends was a delightful reminder of how intertwined their worlds had become. Their banter was light-hearted, their laughter infectious, and their love for the couple palpable.

As the night grew later and the music grew softer, the four friends—now bonded by more than just friendship—gathered around George and Y/N, raising their glasses in a toast. "To new beginnings," Arthur said, his voice a blend of joviality and sincerity. "May your love be as wild and unpredictable as our adventures, yet as steadfast as the foundation of this ancient city we call home."

Chris leaned in, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "And may you never run out of patience for each other," he added with a knowing smile, "because with us around, you're going to need it." The group erupted in laughter, the tension of the day giving way to the easy camaraderie that had carried them through so much.

"To Y/N," Max said, raising his glass higher, "for saving us from ever having to listen to George's dreadful dating stories again." The room buzzed with knowing chuckles, and George couldn't help but laugh along. The group's laughter grew as they reminisced about his infamous Hinge dates—stories of catfishing, awkward silences, and that one girl who had stood him up a record eight times.

Y/N leaned into George, her eyes shining with mirth. "But I'm the one who finally caught you," she whispered, her voice a gentle caress against his ear. "And I'm so happy I could be the one to save you from a life of swiping and ghosting."

Their friends' laughter grew, but George's gaze never left hers. "You didn't just save me," he murmured, his voice low enough that only she could hear. "You gave me a reason to stop looking." He placed a tender kiss on her cheek, the warmth of his lips leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

As the music played on, George watched his wife dance with her father, her smile never fading, her eyes shimmering with happiness. The moment was so perfect it hurt. He felt a gentle pat on his shoulder and turned to see Arthur, a solemn look on his face. "You know, George," Arthur said, his voice barely above a whisper, "you're the luckiest man here."

George nodded, the weight of Arthur's words sinking in. "I know," he replied, his voice thick with emotion. "I never thought I'd find someone who could handle all of this—me, us, the fans, the chaos. But she does. She's my sanity in a world gone mad."

*****

The night grew later, the music slower, and the room more intimate. The air was thick with the scent of happiness and the warmth of a love that had conquered all. As the final notes of their first dance played out, George leaned in to kiss his wife, the sweetness of their union echoing in the silence that followed. Their friends and family cheered, but the couple remained lost in their own little world, oblivious to the applause.

The reception wound down, and the photographer captured their love in a series of candid shots, the flashes of the camera a stark contrast to the soft glow of the candlelit room. They mingled with their guests, thanking them for their presence, sharing laughs, and receiving well-wishes that felt like warm embraces. Each moment was a treasure, a memory to hold onto forever.

The rest of the night passed in a whirlwind of dance, laughter, and love. Each moment with Y/N felt like a gift, a precious memory to be stored away and cherished for the rest of their lives. They shared dances with their parents, the joy in their faces reflecting the happiness of their children. They watched as their friends paired off, spinning and laughing, the music weaving a tapestry of memories that would bind them all together for years to come.

Y/N leaned into George, her arms wrapped around his neck. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for choosing me, for loving me, for saving me too."

George pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers. "Saving you?" He cocked his head, a question in his eyes.

Y/N nodded, her smile softening. "From a life of questionable life choices and questionable haircuts," she teased, her thumb gently tracing the line of his freshly trimmed hair. "But mostly, from the loneliness that comes from not knowing your soulmate is out there waiting for you."

George's heart swelled with gratitude, his eyes never leaving hers. "You've done more than that," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "You've made me whole, Y/N. You've given me a purpose, a reason to wake up every morning with a smile."

Their friends had cleared the dance floor, giving them space to continue their intimate moment. The soft glow of the fairy lights above them cast a warm, romantic hue over the two of them, as if the universe itself was bending to highlight their love. Y/N's hand found its way to his cheek, her thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped his eye. "And you've done the same for me," she murmured. "You've shown me that love isn't just a word in a book or a scene in a movie. It's real, it's messy, and it's beautiful."

Her words hit him like a tidal wave, the depth of her feelings resonating through his very being. He leaned into her touch, feeling the warmth of her skin, the gentle beat of her heart. "I never knew I could love someone like this," he confessed, his voice a whisper in the stillness of the night. "But here we are, and I can't imagine a single day without you by my side."

*****

The moon had risen high in the sky by the time the party began to wind down. The guests slowly started to say their goodbyes, each one offering congratulations and well wishes for a long and happy life together. As the last of the cars pulled away, George and Y/N stood on the porch, hand in hand, watching the taillights fade into the distance. The cool evening breeze danced around them, carrying with it the promise of a future filled with love and adventure.

Turning to face him, Y/N looked up into George's eyes, her own sparkling with a hint of mischief. "Ready for our grand finale?" she asked, a playful smile playing on her lips.

George raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Grand finale?"

"Mm-hmm," she nodded, her smile growing wider. "The part where we finally get to be alone."

"Alone?" George echoed, feigning innocence. "What could possibly happen when we're alone?"

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh, I'm sure we can think of something," she teased, her voice dropping to a seductive whisper.

The banter between them was light, a playful dance of words that had become a hallmark of their relationship. George's cheeks flushed slightly, the humor in his eyes betraying his excitement. "First time as husband and wife, you mean," he clarified with a grin, squeezing her hand.

"Ah, yes," Y/N giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "But you know what they say, practice makes perfect."

Without a moment's hesitation, George bent down, wrapping one arm under her knees and the other around her waist, and scooped her up into his arms. She squealed with delight, her gown fluttering around them as he spun her in a circle. "Let's get to it then, Mrs. Clarkey," he said, his grin growing wider with each passing second.

Her laughter was like music to his ears, a sweet symphony that had played on repeat in his mind since the moment they first met. "I can't wait," she exclaimed, her cheeks flushed with excitement. The night was still young, and the possibilities stretched out before them like a never-ending horizon.

Carrying her over the threshold, George felt his heart swell with a love so profound, it was almost painful. This was it—the start of their forever, a journey they would navigate together, hand in hand.

He kicked the door shut with his foot, the sound echoing through the now empty house. The quiet was a stark contrast to the buzz of the wedding, but it was a welcome one. The world outside could wait—this moment was theirs, and theirs alone.

[kotias]

Ineffable Rockstars

Time to properly become creatively feral about the Ineffable Rockstars project with @vavoom-sorted-art, @searchingforakeythatdoesntexist , @daneecastle, @moonyinpisces and Stitcherydoo!

Summary of the story: human!AU, Crowley and Aziraphale are rockstars in their respective groups, Celestial Harmonies and Hell's Rebuke. Word is out that those two groups have bad history together, and therefore the two of them, while shamelessly talking to each other any festival they get to meet at, do have to be careful about being seen together by their own bands.

Summary of this excerpt: Aziraphale explains the story of the two bands to Crowley, who has arrived after everything went down and was kept in the dark by his mates.

Lyrics: written for the purpose of this fic.

Word count of the excerpt: 872 words

Excerpt:

Crowley sat down next to Aziraphale, whose eyes laid probably a second too long on those long fingers, on this chest showing so proudly from behind his open shirt- He coughed and drank a large gulp from the flute, clutching at the glass like a lifeline.

“It’s- it’s alright. Are you feeling comfortable? How was the concert?”

“Hah, acting like I didn’t see you in the audience, are ya?” Crowley asked with a smirk, and Aziraphale looked away, feeling the heat building up on his face.

“Well, we do need to keep it silent, don’t we?” he answered nonetheless with a coy smile, sipping on his drink.

“Why, though? It’s completely beyond me; Bee recruited me right after the split between Celestial Harmonies and Hell’s Rebuke, but there’s always been… you know, a feeling that it didn’t happen for no reason.”

“They haven’t explained it to you?” Crowley shook his head, and Aziraphale sighed. “No wonder you’re lost. Well, to put it simply… Hell’s Rebuke’s members were part of Celestial Harmonies, a few years ago.”

“Yes, I know that-”

“Let me talk, please; I would like to make sure we work with the same information.”

As he began explaining the official history of the two bands, he was cut by a thunder of clapping as the concert was coming to an end, and he and his counterpart felt compelled to stand up and join the applause.

When you reached Summer,

You lost sight of the star lights,

Questions died in your throat,

Cursing a future that is naught

And the night falling upon you

Left you laying awake with open eyes.

After two encore songs and enough clapping to make their hands and wrists sore, Crowley and Aziraphale walked towards another scene and stayed in relative distance, ensuring that they would hear each other. “So, you were saying, Hell’s Rebuke and Celestial Harmonies.”

“Ah! Yes; so, this is fairly public knowledge.” Crowley nodded impatiently. “At least, it is not something that we are actively hiding, neither of the two groups; somebody who knows how to Google us would be able to find this information.” Aziraphale frowned, crossing his arms. “Honestly, that is why it concerns me a little that you have not been informed of this; it is a fairly common question that people are trying out on us, asking about the other group to see how we react. Anyways-”

The vendors just a few metres from them had started cooking a few crepes, and Crowley did not miss the eyes darting towards them. “Want some? C’me on, it’s my treat,” he insisted as Aziraphale’s eyebrows raised -and it was obvious that he wasn’t going to refuse such an offer.

“Well, if you insist,” he answered, the corners of his lips curling up and his eyelashes fluttering; Crowley’s heart missed a beat, his fingers pressed against his flute, and he barely managed to keep a groan from reaching out of his mouth.

“You do have to tell me more, though; ‘specially if you think my ignorance could bite me in the ass.”

“Yes, of course.” Aziraphale’s voice dropped as they reached the line, keeping it to the level of a private conversation. “Bee and Gabriel were… an item.”

“Oh, excellent start. If that’s only the beginning, I might have to stock up on popcorn with that crepe of yours.”

“Heh, well, it might be one of the more interesting aspects of this entire story, so do not keep your expectations too high.”

“No, no, don't kill my hopes, now. Go on, tell me everything, I’m sure it will be full of riveting details, Bee’s never been good at keeping things tidy anyways.”

Aziraphale groaned. “Oh, you should see Gabriel when he gets involved… Ah- one crepe with sugar, thank you,” he said with a bright smile to the vendor. “Alright, so- long story short, the band was originally founded by the two of them; excellent musicians those two are, and the band did have quite the promising future before it. We started having a fairly good reputation.”

“Black coffee and a serving of fries. The name’s been around for a while now, that’s right- I remember seeing it ten years ago on some festival announcements in my city. Cash, thanks.”

“We have, yes. We were very local for a long while, but…”

“What changed?”

“Gabriel and the others were wishing to go professional; Bee and who are now Hell’s Rebuke were not willing to do that.”

“Ah, I see. Well, they didn't change much in that aspect,” Crowley mumbled sourly, extending his arms to grab the crepe and coffee. He gave the dessert over, then took his serving of fries, and they left the vendor’s stand. “Wait, where did you stand? You stayed with Celestial Harmonies, after all.”

“Hm, well…”

That did not sound like somebody who was fully happy to have stayed, Crowley thought, and he crept closer to Aziraphale, nudging him with his elbow. “Come on, spill the beans! Honestly, I’m looking to go in that direction, if there’s anything I should be aware of…”

“Being professional was, and still is, something that I hold dear,” Aziraphale explained, his slow speech feeling heavy, like he was choosing every word carefully.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Members Only 1

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, cheating, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

“Tommy knows the owner,” Grace trills as she leads you upstairs, “he’s around here somewhere, I’m sure.” 

“Right,” you follow her up into the violet-tinted lighting of the private room, “Mr. Shelby must know a lot of people.” 

“Mm, yes, that is the upside of our marriage. There isn’t a single restaurant or shop in this city where they don’t know his name,” she boasts as you stop at the door and she struts across to the slender bar. She hums, a hint of disapproval in her tone, and she pops the cork of the bottle. “That and the drinks.” 

She catches the foam from the neck in her mouth, her lipstick staining the torn edge of the golden seal. She gulps and puts the bottle down, blotting her lips with her knuckles. She turns and strolls around the curved sofa and looks through the windows that peer into the flashing club. 

“Pour me a glass,” she demands, “it isn’t my brand but good enough.” 

You obey. Mrs. Shelby is very precise in what she wants. She never leaves you in need of further directive. Your previous employer often expected you to know what they wanted without saying so. That stint did not last very long. 

The private room is decorated in silver and gold banners, vases filled with matching confetti, and an ivory cake with a big ‘40’ mounted on top. The decor clashes with the rest of the club. This isn’t a refined venue, it’s a place where coeds come to wile away their weekends. 

You fill a stemmed glass with champagne and bring it to Grace as she toys with a pale blonde wave. She is a pretty woman. She has all the elegance her name would suggest. Still, there is a staunchness to her that keeps you diligent. 

“Hmm, I do wonder why my husband is so fond of this place,” she tuts, “though I might guess it.” 

You peer down at the writhing bodies dancing below. Skimp skirts, crop tops, flirty moves; it isn’t your sort of place and you didn’t think it was hers either. She turns and struts away, sitting on the sofa to nurse her champagne flute. You turn to face her, staying by the windowed wall. 

“I won’t complain. Charlotte will appreciate the effort. It might even bring back a few memories for her,” Grace continues on, twirling the glass between her fingers. “The rest of the ladies should be content enough with the champagne and—oh my, please, go to the kitchen and inquire after the appetizers. I was promised brie and crustinis.” 

She sighs as you move for the door and she slurps loudly. As you reach the door, you hear her mutter, “...ever trust him...” 

You leave her there, wallowing with her golden nectar. It is no secret that the Shelby’s are facing marital woes. Even beyond the scope of Mrs. Shelby’s personal assistant, it’s obvious. Their last dinner party erupted in an argument which had their social circle whispering even months later. She blamed the alcohol and he blamed her. 

You find your way to the kitchen, past the burly man serving drinks behind the upper tier bar. You’re permitted past upon the mention of your employer’s name. Within, a man lines trays with tidy hor d’ouevres. Despite his greasy apron, his work looks no different than the private chefs that often serve the Shelbys. 

You hate to ask but you have to. Your ‘when’ is met with a ‘soon’ which sounds more like ‘can’t you see?’ You thank the cook and quickly retreat.  

As you get back to the stairs, you see Mona, Lilian, and Charlotte. The latter looks confused at her surroundings. She has no idea why she’s there. The surprise has worked. You linger then follow up a few steps behind. 

You can hear the furor as you approach the door. Charlotte’s squealing and as you enter, unseen, she hugs Grace who looks more irked then endeared by the embrace. Your employer’s eyes lock onto you and he gestures to you. You serve the other ladies; Charlotte first as guest of honour. 

“This is quaint,” Mona preens. 

“It’s exactly Charlotte’s taste,” Grace snipes, “if only you’d known her twenty years ago--” 

“Grace, I am a married woman now. No need to bring up the past,” Charlotte girds. 

“Oh, tell me the first note of Britney won’t have you undone,” Grace challenges as she lets you refill her glass. 

The woman chirp and giggle. Your employer faces you, “well?” 

“The cook is finishing up. They’ll be here shortly,” you keep your voice low, an expert at not disturbing the others. 

“Mm, it better be worth it.” 

You don’t mention that it hasn’t cost her anything. It’s isn’t your place to say so, or to speak unless spoken to. Some may think your job oppressive but you don’t mind so much. It’s easy to be told what to do. You’ve never been very good at decisions. 

She sips and scrunches up her nose, “ugh, this isn’t dry enough. Go, find my brand. Ugh, he knows what I prefer and he just doesn’t care.” 

“Yes, miss,” you take her glass as she hands it over and you leave it on the bar. It’s miss, not ma’am. Ma’am makes her feel old. When her birthday comes around, it will be her fifth fourtieth soiree. 

You leave the room again and venture back down. You go to the bar and wave your hand at the tall, blond bartender. He nods to show he’s seen you as he continues to serve his current customer. You wait, bobbing impatiently. He forgets you as a flurry of babbling young girls approach from the other side. He takes their orders and you sigh. You put your hand up again. 

“Oi,” a voice sounds from behind you and a whistle cuts through the thrumming din. The bartender turns and his blue eyes flicker in the club lights. He nears, looking behind you, almost through you. 

“Mr. Shelby,” he greets. You tense and glance behind you. It’s him. Thomas Shelby. Your boss’ husband. In essence, he is your boss, he pays your bills. 

“She’s been waiting,” he points down at you. 

“Of course, sir, apologies,” the bartender looks down at you, “what can I do for you?” 

“Er, I'm looking for champagne. A specific brand--” 

“Taittinger,” Mr. Shelby calls over your head. 

You nod in agreement. That’s the one. He knows but he didn’t have it in the room. Is his wife correct in his disregard or was it merely an oversight? 

“Quickly,” Shelby demands and shoos the bartender with his fingers. “My wife is here?” 

You face him and confirm his assumption. 

“Mm, I forgot it was tonight,” he says, though you hardly hear him over the music. 

You don’t know what to say. There isn’t anything to say. You rarely, if ever, speak to Mr. Shelby. You’re usually just treated as part of the decor. 

“Keep an eye on her for me,” he reaches past you as the bartender returns and he takes the bottle of champagne, “better get this to her at once. Guard it with your life,” he intones as he stares you down, “she does prize her little indulgences.” 

“Yes, sir, thank you,” you make sure he can hear you above the pulsing noise. 

He tilts his head and steps aside, “on you go.” 

[princessbrunette]

bodyguard!jj pulling his gun out on someone who’s all up in your face 😳😳 It would be so hot Id probably have to change my panties

୧ ‧₊˚ 👠・₊✧

trying to be ‘respectful’ on the job could be a pain in jj’s ass — and he’s not just talking about trying to be professional around you. you were sociable, too sociable, so more times than not the weekend would come and you, millionaire kook-nepo baby turned social media whatever would come dragging your bodyguard anywhere and everywhere that you could.

but like jj always told you, you could take the man out of the cut but you couldn’t take the cut out of the man. it was often his actions would come across brutish, irrational, aggressive— but he did what he could to protect you. maybe he cared about protecting you a little too much, for selfish reasons instead of professional.

he stands a few feet back, giving you your privacy at this networking party you’d dragged him too. don’t get him wrong, he loves a party— when he gets to smoke weed and drink beer. coming to a party strictly to stand there and stare at one girl all night wasn’t exactly his mojo.

his bodyguard senses that he’d gained from working for you started to tingle as he snapped out of his thoughts, eyeing your body language. you were stiff, and whilst your back was to him he somehow knew the exact face you were making. this guy, the asshole you were speaking to was all up in your face, too touchy, a totally weird and off putting vibe. jj didn’t wanna come across as overbearing, but then again — he was doing his job.

he arrives at your side within a millisecond, staring down the guy in your face. “step back a little for me, bro.” he tries to be civil about it all whilst standing his ground, his small unblinking smile a thinly veiled threat. the guy scoffs, clearly off too many of the free champagne flutes being liberally handed out.

“babe, why is the help talking to me?” he sneers, amused and jj’s eyes flutter, taking a deep breath to not cuss him out.

“thats my bodyguard.” you frown, meekly — but you defend jj anyway. that calms him just a tad.

“thats your bodyguard?” he smirks, finally letting go of your arm to stare at jj. “what are you gonna do if i don’t step back, huh?”

the blonde bodyguard is done with the games, whipping his pistol out from its holster and holding it directly to his forehead, collecting a sea of gasps and shrieks from decorum-obsessed party goers. “i’ll light this god damn room up, that’s what i’ll do dude. you gonna step back? or am i gonna have to blow your brains out infront of a pretty girl.”

“jj!” you clutch your glittery necklace, stepping behind him nonetheless. the rich asshole has no idea what hit him, backing away and scurrying off with piss in his overpriced boxers. jj licks his lips casually as he looks around at the scene he caused, tucking the gun back into its holster as he turns to look down at you.

“we done here? think it’s time to peel, unless of course you’d rather be escorted out by the actual security guards. they look pretty mad, so…”

you nod, wordless as you process what just happened, letting him guide you away from the party by the small of your back. maybe it was the champagne talking, but seeing jj protect you like that seemed to go straight to your panties, your thunderous heart beat having nothing on the pulse through your clit. you bite your bottom lip, turning to look up at him as he walks you out the building.

“don’t give me that look. was doin’ my job, cupcake. the dude was pushin’ his luck.”

“i can’t believe you did that.” you let out in a breath, and it’s only then once you get outside into the cool evening air he slows his pace, turning to look at you. his face falls a little, wondering if you were really mad. he says nothing, awaiting his scolding. “i… can’t believe you did that.” you repeat, this time falling into a fit of giggles, covering your mouth.

his brow raises, sizing you up.

“uh, how much of that champagne did you drink?”

“you were really gonna shoot that guy just for standing too close to me?” you’re elated, approaching him with a doe eyed grin looking nothing short of a disney princess. he shrugs, not understanding the hype.

“i mean the guy was practically begging for it.”

“thats so hot.”

“what now?”

“cool, that was so cool.” you correct quickly, stepping back. “thank you.” you smile and he blinks at you at few times, knowing exactly what he heard.

“yeah, don’t sweat it… just doin’ my job, sugar.” he starts to walk you to the car — this time with a smirk on his face that you daren’t question.

୧ ‧₊˚ 👠・₊✧

[sunnie-angel]

Strawberry Pie

jason todd x gn!reader

summary: you spend a lazy morning finishing baking the pie that Jason started

tags: kissing, fluff, domestic jason todd

rated teen | wc: 1.1k

a/n: a loosely inspired song fic. can be read as a future scene from A Soft Touch or as a standalone. just wanted something light and fluffy and was possessed with the urge for pie so here it is.

It’s warm this morning, but there’s a cool cross-breeze coming in through the open window. It’s not late enough in the spring to start turning on the AC yet, the breeze currently lifting the sheer curtains enough to keep the apartment fresh. You reach over to the empty side of the bed, let your hand bunch up into a fist before pushing yourself upright and out of bed. Jason had told you, between parting kisses, that he’d be late coming home, the planned stakeout likely to go on until noon. You’d expected this, unworried by his absence but still secretly hoping he’d have returned safe to you.

You make yourself a cup of tea and drink it leaning against the countertop, the Formica countertop digging into the small of your back, the thin cotton of your tank top barely blunting the edge. Feeling hungry, you go looking for breakfast ingredients in the fridge. There’s a note from Jason, stuck to the top of the strawberries you’d bought at the farmer’s market yesterday. For pie, do not eat! signed off with a little heart and smiley face. A few shelves down is the pie dough, covered in plastic wrap and exactly where Jason had left it, in a hurry to follow up on the lead his lieutenant had called in.

It’s a lazy Saturday morning, time stretching out in front of you. You pull out the dough and berries, set them onto the counter. Go rummaging through Jason’s box of recipe cards, one of his last keepsakes from his mother and added to by Alfred, until you can find the one for strawberry pie. The recipe is easy enough, Jason having done all the hard work of making the dough.

You start by turning on the radio, an old analogue thing that Jason had been determined to fix by himself, and setting the oven to preheat. The strawberries go into a colander, washed and ready for slicing. You pop one into your mouth and it just about bursts on your tongue, bright and sweet like sunshine. They’re smaller than the kind you can buy at the grocery store, seeds more prominent and scent stronger. It’s a shame that these wild strawberries are only available a few months of the year but it makes them that much sweeter. Humming, you slice through the quart of berries, juice staining your fingertips. Put them in a bowl with cornstarch and sugar, a dash of lemon juice to finish.

Turning to the dough, you start rolling half out onto the floured countertop. It fits into the pie dish Jason had brought back from one of his missions almost perfectly, only a few hanging edges in need of trimming. Feeling adventurous, you decide to braid some of the lattice work for the top. It comes out a little lopsided, but it’s a good first attempt. Fingers pinching, the fluted edge of the pie takes shape. A light hand with the egg wash and a sprinkle of Demerara sugar later and it’s done. You step back to admire your work. It makes a pretty picture, the pie on the marbled countertop, white tulips in a vase from your one foray into pottery, mid-morning sun bright and white through the kitchen windows.

The pie goes into the oven, and you start cleaning up the evidence of your morning’s activities. The dishes go into the washer, the countertop wiped clean, leftover berries into your stomach. So engrossed in your tasks, you don’t hear the door open or the duffel bag hit the floor of the entryway. Arms circle around you, pick you up and spin you in a circle. Jason sets you down, buries his face in your neck.

“Something smells good,” he murmurs into your hair. And it does, the air filled with the scent of golden pastry and roasting strawberries.

“It should. I’ve been working away on that pie all morning.”

“Thought that was my job.” He tries to pout, but you swat at his hip with the dish towel. The timer on the oven goes off, interrupting the moment.

“Well that,” and you gesture at the oven, “can be your job now.”

He accepts his new job with minimal pouting, scooping up the bee-patterned oven mitts and taking out the pie. It’s perfect, golden with rich red juice bubbling through the lattice work. Steam rises off the top in a way that’s got both of your mouths watering. Jason reaches out to pinch off a piece of crust with his bare hand, but you swat his hands away before he can burn his fingers.

“Not yet! It’s got to cool first Jay.” Looking him over, you finally catch on that he’s still got his jacket on and fully zipped up, despite the warm day. He only ever does that when his shirt’s got bloodstains on it. “Go on, take a shower. By the time you’re done the pie’ll be ready and you can have some for breakfast.”

Jokingly holding his hands up in surrender, he starts heading for the bathroom. “Okay, okay, I’m going!”

“Oh and don’t forget to throw anything bloody into the washer, not the laundry basket! I want to run the next load before the stain really sets in this time,” you call over your shoulder. Last time Jason had left it too long, had ended up having to throw away a previous favourite shirt when neither of your combined efforts had gotten the dried blood spatter out.

He makes a noise of assent and you get busy unloading the dishwasher as you can hear the spray of the shower turn on, leaving out two small plates beside the pie. Some forks, a large knife, and an ice cream scoop join them on the counter. You’re just getting the ice cream out of the freezer, the expensive kind with real vanilla beans that Jason splurges on, when he walks back into the kitchen. He hasn’t dried his hair properly, a habit you haven’t gotten him to break in all the time you’ve known each other and grown to just accept.

You hand the knife over to him with a careful kiss, let him carve up slices for the both of you, hands sure and steady. You’re struggling with the ice cream, frozen solid and unwilling to be scooped. Jason notices, gently nudges you out of the way with his hip and takes over, depositing two perfect spheres of ice cream on top of each slice of pie.

Picking up a fork, you feed him the first bite, hand cupped below it to catch any droplets of ice cream. He closes his eyes, goes silent for a moment. You start to get worried that somehow you’ve messed it up, maybe mixed up the salt with the sugar but you were sure it had tasted just fine when you’d licked the filling syrup off of your wrist.

“So? What do you think?”

He smiles before opening his eyes. “I think it tastes like home.”

[hanniebaeee]

Moonlit

Traveling artist Lee Minho x fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MDNI

Genre: Strangers to lovers (Minho belongs to a clan of traveling musicians)

Summary: A music festival hosted by your little seaside town brings in a caravan of traveling musicians and performers. That's how you meet Minho, a dancer who steals the show, and your heart.

You step out of your little bed and breakfast that you run with your mum. It's a beautiful sunny morning and you were on the way to your friend's flower shop to buy some flowers for the guest rooms.

Your quaint seaside town shines like a beautiful gem with the salty breeze and the sound of crashing waves echoing through the air. The scent of freshly baked bread wafts from the kitchen and you poke your head in through the window to let your mother know that you'll be gone for a while.

The bed and breakfast was actually your mother's old family home. With it's whitewashed walls, blue shutters and breathtaking views of the ocean, it was such a cosy and homely space for the visitors in your town.

You walk to the town center, where businesses were starting to open for the day. Jisoo was arranging some flowers in the display carts outside the shop when you arrive, and she waves at you excitedly.

'Y/N!' She said with a wide smile.

'Good morning, Jisoo.' You say, hugging her before you both step into the shop.

'I have your usual ready.' Jisoo said, handing it over the counter and you pay her before noticing a flyer lying on one of the crates near door.

You pick it up and say, 'Moonlit Music Festival?'

'Someone slipped it under the door, I think? Saw it when I opened this morning.' Jisoo said, giving you your change.

'Wow. It's been ages since we had something like this.' You said, excited to see something new in your otherwise monotonous life.

You loved it here. You were'nt complaining, really. You loved helping your mother with the bed and breakfast. From preparing hearty breakfasts for your guests to doing everything to see that they're happily looked after, you enjoyed it all. But your town was all about routine. It was just the same thing everyday, day after day. You never saw a change. And you craved change.

You were happy about the opportunity to actually have some fun. Putting the flyer back on the crate, you bid Jisoo goodbye before returning home.

You step into the kitchen after putting the flowers in place. The warm scent of cinnamon and vanilla welcomed you, making you smile. Your mum asked if everything was ready for the breakfast rush, and you nod. She tells you something about bringing the bread out of the oven, but you're so lost in thought, you don't hear her. She sighs before asking one of the kitchen helpers to do it.

You were at the market the next morning, when the you first heard the flute music. Turning around quickly, you see the most beautiful and colourful sight - a caravan. You mouth hangs open as you realize they are here for the festival. And in the days that followed, they set up camp at the edge of the town. Beautiful tents, teeming with singers, dancers, and performers, who brought with them a spirit of their nomadic lifestyle.

The town buzzed with excitement for the festival. You and Jisoo went dress shopping, wanting to wear the most exquisite attire for the show. There was an air of mystery surrounding the vibrant tents and you were eagerly waiting for a chance to witness their magic.

A day before the festival started, a makeshift stage was set up, against the backdrop of the ocean. Colourful banners and streamers adorned the arch that led to the venue. Many of the townspeople had set up their own refreshments and souvenir stalls too.

Your mother watched in interest as you and Jisoo fussed over each other, doing your make up and hair. You never really got a chance for this, so you made the best of it. Dressed and ready, you leave for the show with your mother and best friend.

The performers wore vibrant, flowing costumes adorned with intricate embroidery and shimmering beads. The riot of colors and textures had you captivated the minute you had stepped into the venue. You found a good spot for the show, close to the stage, thankfully, and was looking at everything in awe when your eyes fell on a particular man, dressed in a red outfit studded with black stones. His dark hair and the playful smile on his face had you ogling at him.

You watch him as he speaks to his fellow artists and they get around arranging things for their act. Your eyes follow him around, to a point where Jisoo clears her throat teasingly.

'You're staring, Y/N!' She sniggers and you blush, looking away quickly.

The show begins with your own local singers and artists and then he gets on the stage. Your heartbeats are wild as he sings and dances. His movements are so fluid and mesmerizing, you are totally lost in him. The dancers clear the way for a lead singer to enter the stage and your heart skips a beat as your eyes meet his.

He holds your gaze, mouth slightly open as he pants, but the intensity of his gaze was enough to make you pant without even doing anything. You try to look away (you wanted to), but it was almost impossible. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and you thought you would faint. Looking down at your hand quickly, you feel your cheeks grow warmer and warmer.

After the key performances of the day were over, the festival continued with music, dancing and food. You stuck with Jisoo as your mothers went to try some of the food stalls set up by the elders of the music clan.

Jisoo brought some cotton candy which you were both eating, when you felt someone tap your shoulder. You turn around to see a young girl, who gave you a wide smile.

'Hello. Did you have a good time?' She asked, tilting her head cutely. She was also dressed in a red stone studded attire, which meant that she had performed with him.

You smile and say, 'Of course we did. You were amazing!'

'Thank you, we're glad you enjoyed it.' The voice that answered wasn't the girl's. You gulp and look up to lock eyes with him again.

He gives you a warm smile and says, 'I'm Minho and this is my sister, Hana.'

Minho looks at you expectantly and you say, 'I'm Y/N and this is Jisoo.'

Jisoo pitches in with her praises for their act and they smile sweetly at you both.

'May I ask you to have dinner with us, if that is ok?' Minho asked, his eyes not leaving you.

You and Jisoo exchange glances before nodding yes with excited smiles. Minho and Hana introduced you and Jisoo to delicious meat stews, spicy soups, mooncakes, stuffed peppers, and rice puddings, which you two gobble up. You also bring your own traditional food to the table, which the siblings wolf down eagerly.

You feel such heartwarming joy as you watch them eat with the biggest smiles on their faces. Minho looks at you and you could see that he felt the same connection that you did. The four of you talked for hours before finally your parents wanted to leave.

Minho and Hana shake your hand as you leave, with him not letting go as you try to step away. You glance at your mum, who was busy talking to an elderly lady and turn back to Minho.

'Do you have to leave?' He asked in a small voice.

'My mother...um... ' You weren't sure what to say.

His eyes drifted over your shoulder to your mother and then to you.

'Ok.' He said, looking dejected.

'Come visit my flower shop, tomorrow.' Jisoo said quickly. 'Both of you.'

Hana giggled, and Minho looks between you and Jisoo, before nodding with a smile.

'Good, we have to go now.' Jisoo was pulling you away. 'See you tomorrow!'

The next morning, you walk towards Jisoo's shop, excited and anxious. You didn't know what you were doing, exactly. When you are near the shop, you find Minho by the display, looking at some orchids. You stop walking and he turns to look at the same time, as if he could sense you. The smile he gives you is so gorgeous, it makes your knees weak.

'Hi.' He says, his sweet voice giving you butterflies in your tummy.

'Hi Minho.' You say and the two of you step into Jisoo's shop. Jisoo and Hana are talking, and they both smile as they see you.

Jisoo starts a conversation, thankfully, since you couldn't even remember your name at this point. You didn't know what was happening to you. Your town had enough lovely men (not to brag), but none of them had ever made you feel like this. And Minho wouldn't stop giving those looks, like he was addicted to you.

Before they left, you couldn't bear to see the sadness on his face, so you ask Minho to meet you at the beach near your house after midnight. You didn't know where you got the courage to even suggest such a thing, but Minho was smiling again, and for now, that's all that mattered.

Jisoo was surprised and she said she will go to keep watch. You told her not to take a risk, but she waved you off and said, 'Better for them to catch me with you than you and Minho.'

As the night wore on, you were jittery and scared to death. What if your mum woke up and saw that you were gone? But the thrill of actually sneaking out to meet Minho was far too delicious to give up.

You find Minho sitting on the sandy beach, watching the waves as you walk towards him slowly. Jisoo waves at you from far and you feel at ease. Minho turned to find you approaching him and he held his hand out for you. The touch of your fingers to his sent shivers down your spine. You sit, gazing at the moonlit beach, relishing Minho's company.

He told you all about the close-knit community he came from and how hard it was sometimes to have any dream of his own. You tell him how similar you were, because your town held some of the most strict rules - not set in stone, just some things that has been followed over generations.

'I've never felt like this before.' He said, watching you dig your fingers into the sand, holding some in your palm. 'No one has ever affected me this way.'

Then he placed his hand on top of yours, lacing his fingers with yours, tightly.

'I am afraid to think of what will happen when it's time for me to leave.' He continued.

'Minho, I don't know what this is, but I feel the same way. I don't want you to leave.'

Your eyes meet and he sees unshed tears in them. He reached forward to wipe a tear using his thumb. You hold his hand to your cheek before bringing it to your lips, placing a soft kiss on it.

He swallows, looking conflicted. You look away, wiping your tears away quickly.

You found yourself meeting Minho in secret in the days that followed. Sweet moments with the man who had managed to steal your heart in such a short time. One night, he kissed you while you sat at the beach. His lips were so soft yet hungry for you. You held on to his strong shoulders as he pulled you closer with his arms around your waist.

You loved the taste of his mouth and the feeling of his tongue against yours. It was a bit messy, but you loved it. You couldn't get enough of him - every time you met after that, your kisses grew more needy and rough.

One evening, Minho snuck you into their camp, and into his tent. It was late, so everyone were fast asleep. You loved how simple everything was. You smile as you run your fingers through the black stones of the red outfit he had worn the first time you saw him, which was hung on a rope in his room.

Minho watched you lovingly as you took in your surroundings. He knew that he was risking everything by loving you, as his clan had strict rules about marrying within their own. But he couldn’t deny his feelings for you. Every time he kissed you, it became harder and harder for him to see you walk away.

'Y/N, I have something for you.'

Turning around, you look at him, as he brings out a small velvet pouch from his pocket. Inside was an emerald ring, its deep green stone shimmering under the light of the lantern.

'I want you to have this, Y/N. As a symbol of my love and my promise to you. I want to marry you, at any cost, because I cannot think about a future without you in it.' Minho said and you are so shocked, you couldn't move.

You stare at him, your heart racing.

'I love you, Y/N. I want you to be mine forever.' He whispered, and his tension seemed to dissipate as you let him put the pretty ring on your finger.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you look at the ring. You felt so much love for this man, yet the fear consumed you.

'I love you too, Minho. But what if our families never accept us?' You say, and Minho shook his head.

'We’ll face it together, my love. No matter what, I will fight for us.' He said, hugging you close.

You nod, and he kissed you. His lips were warm and desperate. You found yourself raising you arms for him to lift your dress over your head, and you watch as he strips before he pulls you into his bed. He shows you how much he wants you, as his mouth and fingers reached every inch of your body.

You suck in a breath as he kissed you softly against your warm core, before closing his lips around your sensitive bud. You've never experienced this before, so you are shocked when he draws an orgasm out of you with just his lips, leaving you shaking and crying, tears running down your cheeks. His lips wreck more havoc as they find your nipples and suck on them.

'Minho!' You place a hand over your mouth, so that you don't cry out. He his hovering over you with a fond smile on his face.

'Can I?' He asked softly and you nod, holding on to his arms. He pushed his length into you slowly, to help you adjust to him. The sting had you crying all over again. But he talked you through it. You are breathing heavily as he takes a minute to gather himself, and then as you nod, he moves. He sets a slow rhythm at first, and then picks up speed. You bite your lip as the pleasure hits you.

Minho smiles as he sees your sweet expressions. And then you came again, gasping as you did, and Minho captures your lips in his before he came, filling you up.

'I love you so much, my princess.' He mumbled, and you hum, way too tired to speak.

He cleans you up with a wet cloth before he helps you dress up again. He kissed you again and again before he snuck you out and walked you to the beach near your house.

As dawn broke, casting a golden glow over the town, you knew you had to speak up fast, before Minho had to leave. You and Minho bring your families to the little secluded beach at the back of your bed and breakfast, declaring your love and intention to marry.

Your mother broke out into a fit of sobs, crying out about how this would create a scandal and your simple life would be destroyed forever. Minho's parents were outraged too, and they lash out at him for threatening their traditions. The elders demanded you two to end things then and there.

You couldn't stop crying as your mother forced you to give up Minho's ring. He looked at you with such pain in his eyes as your mother hurled insults at you for being so selfish.

'Please, please, mother.' You whimpered, holding your hand over your heart as she threatened to disown you and told you how Minho's family didn't want you and you'll be left to fend for yourself.

Minho spoke up, saying, 'That would never happen, because I promise to be there for her. Always. And my people, we always keep our promises. We don't abandon our own, no matter what.'

Your mother gave him a tearful look.

'She's not your own, son. Your people won't accept her.'

'She is mine, from the moment I gave her that ring and told her that I wanted to marry her. I will marry her. With or without anyone's support.' Minho said firmly. 'We wanted our families to be a part of our love, but if you cannot see the beauty of it, then it's better if you don't linger to portray it as something ugly.'

Your mother let's go of your arm, falling silent. Minho helps you up to your feet and hold you close to him.

'I'm sorry.' He whispered, rubbing your back gently. 'I promise, you will never regret being with me. I promise.'

You nod, already sure of that.

There was silence, then murmurs, and finally, Minho's family starts walking away. You mother sets off too, leaving the two of you in your embrace. He promises to make every thing right and then you are left on your own, hoping and praying that he will.

Hana watched in silence as Minho packed his belongings.

'What are you going to do, Minnie? Where will you two go?' She asked, worried.

'I don't know, I will figure it out.' Minho said, shaking his head. He saw his father approach his tent, worry etched on the old man's face.

'Minho, son, this is very reckless of you. You know how we are. How could you even think of bringing an outsider amidst us?' He asked.

'I'm sorry, father. I'm not bringing her here. I'll take her somewhere.... somewhere it's not a crime to be in love.' Minho said, not looking at the man. 'I know I'm honouring the values taught to me. I will keep my word and love and protect her until I die and beyond.'

Minho's grandmother entered the tent at that moment and said, 'You should be proud of your son. Our culture must be protected, but not be separating lovers, but by imparting it to anyone who wishes to join us and keeping it alive. With love.'

Minho's father is shocked.

'I accept your decision, my dear boy. I wish you all the happiness in the world. I hope you will teach your children the right ways of our life.' She continued, and his father left, head hung.

You were in your room, trying to think of what to do next, when your mother came came in, with a little package in her hand.

'I want you to have this. It's not much, but your father and I had saved up some money so you could leave here when the opportunity came. And I think, this is it.' She gave it you with a small smile. 'I want you to be happy, child. I'm sorry I said all those things. I was scared, and I didn't know what to do. But I'm with you, if you're sure this is what you want.'

You hug your mother and cry, totally at a loss of words.

Jisoo appears at your door just them, panting.

'They're here. They're here!' She said, face bright with excitement.

'What?'

You and your mother are on your feet. You find Minho's family at your front porch, with Minho smiling, face pink with happiness.

His grandmother, the woman whom you had seen speaking to your mother on the first day of the festival, stepped forward to ask for forgiveness. And then everything was a blur.

Though there was an initial confusion about the whole thing, the townspeople and the visitors all got together to celebrate your wedding. Your bed and breakfast was transformed with garlands of flowers, tables decorated with the best linens and laden with dishes from both cultures: fresh seafood, roasted meats, puddings, dumplings, cakes and wines. The air was filled with the sounds of laughter, music, and the sea.

You wore a flowing white dress, simple yet elegant. An emerald pendant, a gift from Minho's grandmother adorned your neck. And Minho was dressed in his traditional vest and breeches. The emerald ring he had given you shone brightly on your finger, as you placed your hand in his.

Minho's grandmother came forward and held both your hands as you exchange your vows by the sea, with some tears, but lots of excitement for the future. Surrounded by your family and friends, you knew you could face anything in the world, long as you had each other.