Tumgik
#between her memory and story telling skills
Just Breathe- Series
Tumblr media
Good evening everyone! here is the second chapter in the Just Breathe Series. This series was inspired/prompted by the ask that was submitted by @deans-spinster-witch to read the first chapter click here for the original post. @deans-spinster-witch was gracious enough to lend her skills in ruffing out a few of the mishaps in chapter one, and I will post that updated version at some point and link it, and did the same for this second chapter. 
Here is the original ask for a refresher.
Ask from @deans-spinster-witch:
Tell me about Dean falling in love with a girl who has long covid - maybe they met when he saved her from a monster and they became friends, she occasionally helps him with research or patches him up if he gets hurt.  He doesn’t hear from her for a while, and when he goes to check on her, he finds out she’s in the hospital with Covid - a monster he can’t save her from.  He realizes he loves her, but may lose her.  After she gets out he keeps coming to check on her because he knows she tires easily/has trouble breathing at times.
This second chapter is going to start with a bit of time jump, but don’t worry we got flashback a plenty to fill in the gaps. Multi POV between the main character, Y/N, and Dean Winchester, mentions of Sam Winchester. This is angst, sweet/fluffy, swearing, implied sexy times. Oh and word count is at 7,250-ish, sorry but not sorry. 
Sadly the Winchesters are not mine, but the story is so please don’t steal and post as your own. But likes, reblog, and comments are always welcome. As always any mistakes like grammar, spelling, function is also all mine, so be kind when pointing it out, I do my best. 
I would like to know if you like this chapter would you want to see a third chapter? or maybe a prequel to answer any questions you might have regarding Y/N and Dean? Let me know. 
Thank you again for reading, and you would like to send me a prompted or story idea, send it my way. 
Happy Reading
Time Jump to 4 months ahead. 
Y/N POV
Shit, Shit, Shit! Where the hell are my keys! You yell out in frustration as you move frantically around your house, looking for the one thing that you need to get to your appointment on time. Tossing the pillows from the couch, goddamn it! You were never like this, ever since COVID, your short term memory has been foggy to put it nicely. Resorting to keeping both a paper list and digital one on your phone, is your new normal. Walking into a room to do something, and instantly forgetting what you came for. Case in point, not remembering where you put your goddamn keys! 
You hate running late, you pride yourself on always being early to things, and this appointment was an important one. Walking into the kitchen, you start to look in the not so obvious places. Opening up the fridge, nope not in there. Pull open the freezer next, yep there they are, right next to the pint of mint chip ice cream that you just had to have yesterday at like 11 pm. Only to then be disappointed that you now can’t stand the taste of your once favorite ice cream, fuck you COVID! 
Ugh, seriously, you are going to be the death of me, you think. Grabbing your keys, you push the freezer door closed, and head off to the hospital for your fourth month CT scan. Locking the door behind you, the crisp air of fall hits you. God how you don’t want winter to come any sooner then it has too. Winters in Michigan can be brutal, especially on the coast line. Pulling your light jacket close to you, you quicken your pace and get into your jeep to start up the car quickly, and pull out of the driveway. Not noticing the very familiar black impala parked about three houses down. 
****
You make it with time to spare, as you wait in the waiting room after checking in, you try your best to calm yourself. Fiddling with your phone, you find that scrolling through Instagram is getting you nowhere and your emails have been radio silent for months now. Exhausted, you put your phone away, you look around the room. For mid morning it's not too busy, the daytime talkshow mixes in with the white noise of the hospital. It's so beige, beige carpet, walls, even the uncomfortable furniture is beige. It makes sense, given it's a hospital; money should be spent on actual patient care, not on the latest interior furnishings., But still, at least get some interesting artwork. Looking to the piece across from you: an abstract painting of paint strokes in grays, blues, and you guessed  it, beige.
“Ms. Moore?” The nurse's voice pulls you from your thoughts, and you look up to see her standing at the entryway in blue scrubs, dark brown hair pulled back, with a kind smile. 
“Yep” you reply to her, but you're sure she would have guessed that was you, as your head snapped at attention when your name was called. “Hi”, giving her a smile as you walk towards her.
“Hi,” she replies, “can you tell me your last name and date of birth?” She starts walking down the hallway, looking at your chart, the path was second nature for her. You rattle off your last name and birthday for her, then she stops just off from an open doorway, “right in here.” Letting you walk in first.
She takes a seat at a desk, swiping her badge to start keying in some information. “So, here for your four month CT scan.” she states, but it also feels like a question.
“Umm, yeah, it's my second one.” You reply, still getting used to coming to the doctor more than twice a year. You only ever went if you were feeling really sick. 
“Looks like the first one was clean, but we like to do a few in close succession when someone has had a severe case of covid.” she explains, her eyes are kind, and reassuring, “I am sure this one will be just as good, and then hopefully the doctor will schedule them farther apart.”
She must see the worry on your face. Not sure how to respond, you just nod your head. She takes your vitals, asks if anything else has changed since your last visit, and if there were any other concerns you wanted to discuss today. “No, I don’t think so.” 
Typing a few more things in the computer, and then swapping her badge again to lock the computer. “I am surprised your brother is not here with you today.” 
“What?” You're taken aback by this, brother, does she mean Dean? How would she know about him? Was it in your chart? You don’t remember adding him as your emergency contact.
She can tell you are put off by this. “Sorry, I should have re-introduced myself. I was your nurse when you were in here with covid.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry, I should have…”
“No, it's fine. Honestly, I wouldn’t expect you to remember me.”
Thinking back to that time, she does seem familiar now, “well it's nice to see you again…” struggling to remember her name quickly, but not inconspicuously looking at her badge, “Bridget.” This gets a laugh out of her, and you do the same. “I was happy to see your name on the schedule today, and I thought you were the one with the very cute, and very attentive brother. That's why I am surprised he is not here.”
Ah yes, Dean, not being here. That is a long, long story that you're sure she does not want, nor has the time to hear right now. You give her a forceful smile, “Yeah, Dean, he has something today, so just me.”
Her smart watch goes off, and she looks at the time, “well we should get you down to CT. After your scan, we will come back here and the doctor will be with you to go over the results.” She gets up, and you follow. 
****
The wait feels like forever, and in the small exam room with nothing to look at but an exam table -and beige walls - you were lost in your head. Worrying about what if they found something, what if you developed lesions, or anything that could compromise your health. God, how you wish Dean was here, or even Sam. Someone to hold your hand and distract you from the impending doom and dark thoughts that were creeping in. Dean would distract you with lame jokes, or stories about how Sammy was terrified of doctors. He would get you to smile anyway he could, probably go so far and raid the supplies of tongue depressors and cotton balls, saying something like “they don’t need all of them, do they?”
“Ms. Moore, how are we today?” The doctor's voice breaks up your fleeting thoughts of Dean, as if he was right there, but as soon as the man in the white coat opens the door and steps through, Dean disappears. 
“Umm, good, at least I hope so.” You reply, wanting to keep the pleasantries short, let get to the point so you can get out of here. 
He takes a look over the file, and then pulls up the scans on the computer. He seems to be taking forever, did he not look at them beforehand! Come on man just tell me already! “Everything looks good, I am not seeing any growth of lesions or scar tissue from the tube.”
Relife floods your body, letting out a sight, “oh that great news, so I am done with coming in?” you hope so, wanting to never see this place again, at least for a while. 
He turns to face you, his dark brown eyes are kind, but you can tell right away he is not going to give you the answer you want. “Not yet, but we can push them to every six months.”
Okay, twice a year, I guess that is a compromise you can take, “okay, so I will see you in the spring.” Starting to get up to leave, but he stops you.
“In two months, we can start doing six month visits. I want to see you again one more time in two months. If that scan is clean then we push them to six month visits.” He explains. 
You sit back down in defeat, you're going to be back here in two months, really! You know you can’t take your frustration out on him, he is just looking out for your health and doesn’t want to miss anything. “Okay.” Slightly defeated, wanting nothing more than to curl up on the couch, and sleep for the next two months away. 
Giving your hands a reassuring pat, “two months will fly by I promise. Is there anything else you want to discuss today? Still having some memory issues?”
You know that you should be honest with him, that you think you have gotten worse since Dean left, but honestly are you sure? He did so much for you in that short time, maybe, you were like this before, and he just didn’t point it out. Plus you just wanted to go home, what really could he do anyways? “Nothing new on that. I think I just need to get back to my normal routine and I will be fine.” 
Getting up from his chair, “Sounds good. I will send Bridget back in, she will get you set up for your next appointment. We will see you in two months. Have a good day.” shutting the door behind him. You're back alone in that quiet room.
Alone, you're alone, once again. You can feel the panic start to creep in. Alone, and even though the scan was good, he still wants you to come back. Alone, no one to hold your hand, no one to make stupid jokes. You did this to yourself, you know that, he would have stayed, you pushed him…
“Alright, Doctor says two months humm.” Bridget's voice breaks through. It's light and airy. Trying to make the situation as pleasant as possible. As soon as she sits down, she can tell you're not alright, “Hey, what's wrong?” She asks, setting down the chart, and focusing on you.
Feeling a tear run down your cheek, fuck why are you crying.  “Umm…it's nothing….yeah two months…” You take a ragged breath, pushing all your emotions down, down, down, to the deepest part of your soul where they should always live. You can cry when you get home. Suck it up for two more minutes!
“Hey, talk to me, what’s going on.” She is not letting you wash this away, she grabs the tissue box, and holds it out for you to pull a couple out of the box. “Your scan was clean, the doctor is just being cautious that's all.” 
“I know it's just…I really wish he was here….”
“Dean,” she replies, filling in the blanks. You nod at this, and wipe your eyes and face. “I am sure if you talk to him, he will come to the next appointment.”
Oh if she only knew, but you couldn’t lay this all out on a complete stranger. Again she just wants to do her job, and move on to the next patient, you're taking up too much of her time. “I am sure you're right.” Taking a few ragged breaths. 
She gives you a reassuring smile, and turns to the computer to book your appointment, reminding you that you can always change it to accommodate if Dean can’t make it this time. “I could tell he really cares for you. Even in the short time I saw him, he wouldn’t leave your side for anything. Practically had to kick him out every night when visiting hours were over.” Trying to make the situation light, and hopefully get a smile back on your face. 
Giving her a short laugh, “yeah that sounds like Dean.” You can see it, him waiting until the last possible second. A security guard to escort him out.
Both of you get up, and she walks you to the door, and down the hall towards the exit. Seeing you coming back around, she decides to let you in on a little secret. Stopping you before opening up the door to the waiting room she leans in slightly. “Just between you and me, I knew he wasn’t your brother.”
“What….I mean…no he is….” You stammer out, hoping that she wasn’t going to bust you for…something, you're not sure? But still not wanting to get into trouble.
“Don’t worry dear, it's fine.” She quickly replies, trying to calm your fears. 
You let out a sigh of relief, “How did you know?”
“Two things. One he just pulled on my heartstrings so much that I figured what would be the harm in him sticking around, even if he wasn’t related. Plus, if I was ever lucky enough to have a guy look at me the way he did to you, I would want him to be by my side every second.”
Her smile is contagious, and although you're still doubting that what you feel for Dean would ever be reciprocated, now is not the time to hash it out with her. “What was the second?”
“I may have heard him one night on the phone with someone, saying he couldn’t lose you, that he needed to tell you that he was in love with you.'' She says matter of factly, pushing the door open and waiting for you to walk through. 
*******
Dean POV
He watches as she pulls into the driveway and shuts off the car. He had followed her from a safe distance from the hospital to the store, and then back to her house. She didn’t notice once, even though he had taught her in the past how to spot a tail. Did she get bad news? Maybe it's the COVID that is affecting her hunter instincts? Fuck, if thats the case, what else could she be missing? Is it stupid and desperate of him to be following her, and watching from a distance? Maybe, but also not, if she is not noticing simple things like him following her. What if  Lucifer, or one of his henchmen, came after her? Anxiety just thinking of irrational attacks on you causes his chest to tighten as he pulls back into the parking spot a few houses down.
He should be a man and go up to you, talk to you, and see you face to face. He missed you, your smile, your laugh - fuck, everything about you. He knows he screwed up. As soon as he did what he did, he wished he could have taken it back, but the damage was done. He kept saying it was for the best, that you would forgive him, and move on. But you can’t forgive him unless he stops being a little stalker and owns up to what he did.
Flashback to the night of the big blowup. Dean POV
Standing there, staring down the closed door, you wish right now you had superpowers to see through the door and see if she’s alright. Hell, you don’t need to be a superhero to know she’s not. You're just wondering what brought this on. “Y/N, come on, talk to me” you plead, softly knocking on the door. “I am sorry…I don’t mean to…” your rambling stops when you hear soft sobs from the otherside of the door. 
“Just go away Dean!” She yells between sobs. “I can’t breathe with you here… I can’t…”
You grab the door knob, fear and pressure weighing down on you to get to her, to hold her.  Most importantly, to make her understand that your overbearing protectiveness is coming from a place of needing to be in control, that you care for her, and need to protect her “Y/N, please just open the door, let's talk? I promise I will ease up, I can do better.”
You can hear her give a small laugh at that, you're about to question her on this when your phone goes off. Screw it, let it go to voicemail, she is more important than anything else. “I am not giving up on you, on us. You have to come out eventually.” 
Your phone stops ringing for a second and then starts back up again. What the Hell? “You should answer that, Dean.” She states without hesitation, but  with an undertone of sadness. 
Letting out a sigh, you turn around. “Fine if you want to talk via phone, fine.” Walking away from her door into the living room, you pick up your phone from the coffee table. To your surprise it's not her name across the screen, but Sam’s. “What?” you bark out in frustration, not really wanting to talk with him right now. 
“Dean, back off.” Sam says matter of factly. No pleasantries, just straight to the point. 
“She called you? Why?” Confused as to why she is including Sam on this.
“She just needs some space, Dean, I think it's time you come back. Jody called and…” Sam calmly says, trying his best to diffuse the situation from the other side of the country. 
“No, Sam, I am not leaving her! I can’t lose her again, I won’t… I love her, man…”
Your back is to the hallway, so you don’t notice Y/N standing there, listening, hearing  what you should be confessing to her and not your brother. You don’t see her wondering why can’t you just say what you feel? Why can’t you just let down your guard with her and tell her?
*****
The slamming of a trunk pulls Dean back to the present, and he looks up to see you carrying an arm load of groceries. Of course you would do it in one trip. He shakes his head, remembering that you never like to take more than one trip from the car to the house. Your logic always being, as you told him, I am a single girl, I can do it in one go. He watched as you held the screen door open with your butt, as you switched all the bags to one arm so you could open the door with the other. Looking away once you're inside, Dean notices it’s about 20 minutes since you pulled in the driveway. Had you been sitting there this whole time? You have only gone to the hospital and store, but still your energy must not be back to what it used to be. 
Maybe he should check, make sure you're doing okay. Look in the window really quick. Getting out of the car and walking the short distance, he looks over to your car to see that you still had some toilet paper and paper towels in the back seat. Knowing that you would be back, he decides to help you out. Opening up the door as quietly as possible he grabs the items, and takes them up to the door. Putting them in between the screen door and main door, he turns around to leave.
His eyes look in the kitchen window, to see you putting away your items. Your back is to him, so you don’t notice. You seem lost in your own world, on auto pilot putting things away. Dean takes a moment to appreciate that he can see you up close. His eyes scan the room, noticing the post-it notes all over. He never remembers you having so many of them before. He can’t read what they say, but they are everywhere; on the cabinets, counter tops, table, Was your memory getting worse? 
Panic, and anger - at himself more than anything -  sets in.
*******
Y/N POV
“I love her Sam, I am in love with her…I can’t…no I won’t lose her, I need to tell her how I feel…”
“You don’t love me, Winchester” your voice stops Dean from rambling on the lies that you know, in the end, he doesn’t mean.
Dean turns to see you standing there, your eyes red from crying. But you're not crying now; no, now you  look  pissed, like you want to kick some ass - and Dean’s is the closest one. “Got to go Sam.” Dean quickly says, ending the call. “What do you mean I don’t love you. Of course I do, I….”
You hold up a hand, and stop Dean from saying anything more. “No, you don’t. People like me, we don’t have sexy knights to save us. To fall in love with us, to whisk us away, and want to play house with.” Determine to get this all out, to get your point across and make him accept reality. 
“We are your best friend, the girl you call on Friday nights when your date falls through, or you strike out with the bartender. We are your ‘wing woman’, we pick you up, dust you off, and send you back out into the world. We build your confidence up, while we sit on the sidelines alone.”
“Y/N that's not true…” Dean starts to protest.
“Let me finish, I have to get this out.” taking a breath, you can see he’s hurt, that he wants to argue, to explain his side. “Yes, you care for me, but you don’t love me, and you're not In love with me. You're in love with this idea of a life outside of hunting, you love the idea of playing house.” Closing the gap between you, even though you know better than to get  this close to him. You're playing with fire, but you're desperate to feel him. 
“You're right, I am in love with the idea of an apple pie life. But I want that life with you, no one else.” Dean interjects before you can shut him down, shut down what is going on between you two before it can even start. 
Taking a chance, he grabs your hand and brings it up to his chest and places it over his heart. “Can’t you feel my heart? It’s racing for you. It always has, it always will.”
 Feeling the softness of the white t-shirt between your fingers, you take a breath and inhale the smell of him. “Sooner or later we both know this won’t be enough, that I won’t be enough.” You talk to his chest, not wanting or able to look him in the eye, your voice low and shaky. “You're going to leave me, sideline me, and only blow through town when you need something.”
“That's not true! You have always wanted your own life. I always wanted to protect you as much as I could. The things that Sam and I deal with, the people and monsters we hunt, if anything ever happens…you are a vulnerability that they will exploit. I know it.” 
“Maybe. Even more reason why you have to go…and never come back…” Glancing up to see the gut punch you just delivered written on his face. You try to take a step back.
Dean won’t let you go, bringing a hand around your waist, holding you. “What?! No! I won’t cut you out of my life. I now know I was stupid for ever doing that. For letting you live alone, or at the very least, not in the same state as the bunker.” He practically commands, with no hesitation. How could you think he would ever agree to this?   
“Y/N, I need you in my life. You can’t deny that there is something between us.” His words are sweet, his voice is low as he leans into you. His breath fans over your face, as his hands caress your cheek. “Please, I need you.” 
His lips are so close to yours, that if you lean ever so slightly, you would finally know how soft his lips are. Would they fulfill your fantasies? God, maybe you should live in this fantasy for as long as you can, screw being logical. Let it be a future Y/N problem, present Y/N wants to know what it's like to be wanted by Dean Winchester. “I…Dean…”
*******
 Y/N and Dean POV 
“Dean, what are you doing here?” Your voice pulls him from the memory of that night, and he looks to see you standing at the door, one hand holding open the screen door. 
Oh fuck, well, this wasn’t the plan at all. Giving her a smile, “Hey Y/N, I was in the neighborhood…thought I would…”
“So you're stalking me now?”
“Hehe, no, I said I was in the neighborhood, wanted to see how you are…you look good.” He says, letting his eyes look at you. You did look good, but tired, your eyes didn’t shine like they normally did before; the spark, the hint of twinkle is gone.
“Liar, I look like shit, but thanks.” You quip, knowing that you don’t look good at all. Wearing a ratty hoodie and jeans, you opted for comfort over trying to impress anyone. “Well, thanks for stopping by.” You say, giving him a fake smile and turning to walk back in the house. 
“Umm…Y/N, I could, I mean Sam could use your help with something, he knew I was going to be passing through and wanted me to stop by and ask for some help.” Quickly thinking on his feet, he creates an excuse. He didn’t want to leave yet, this is the most he has talked to you since that night. He would be damned if he was going to let you leave so soon. 
You turn back to look at Dean, trying to gauge if he was telling the truth or not. Sam had your number, and you were still speaking to the younger Winchester - he didn’t break your heart and live up to everything you knew would happen. “Why didn’t he call me?” You question, wanting to make Dean work for it. He wasn’t getting in that easy!
He takes a few steps towards you, “well, like I said, he knew I was in the area.” One step lower from you, his green eyes lock with yours, silently pleading with you to let him in. “He wanted me to pick up a lore book on Pixies, and said you had a copy that we don't have in the library.”
“Fine, come in. I will go grab it.” You reply, turning away from him, letting him catch the door before it slams in his face. 
Dean shucks off his jacket and boots, and looks around while you go back to find the book. He can now see the post-its in detail, reminding you where your keys, jacket, bag should be put. Making his way to the kitchen, cabinets are labeled with what should be in them: dry food, dishes, silverware. Daily schedule on the fridge. “Having fun snooping?” Your sarcastic tone has him turning on his heels to see you standing in the doorway with a book in hand. 
“Umm…sorry…” he says sheepishly, hating  that he got caught. He can see you're not amused, and he is really going to have to lay on the charm to win you back. 
“Yeah, well at least I am keeping the post-it company in business. Here is the book.” You say handing it to him.
Dean takes it, and looks at it, giving it a nod, “Thanks, yep this is it.” 
“Okay, well, you better get going, since Sam is in ‘desperate’ need of it and all.” Your voice is flat, not in the mood to deal with him. “You know where the door is.” You add, just turning that knife even deeper. 
“Look, Y/N can we talk?” Dean can tell you're not your usual self, and he really wants to get you back.
“Oh now you want to talk? You sure as hell didn’t want to talk for four months. Didn’t want to talk when you woke up the next morning regretting that kiss, regretting what we said to each other, the promises you made.” You snap at him, the frustration building in you. Why does it always have to be on his time? God you were just getting over him, right?
“I know. I was a jerk, it was a dick move, and I am sorry.”
“You're sorry, really?That's all you have to say?” Turning away from him, just looking at him and his sad puppy dog face, you want to smack him. Fuck, you want to hit yourself for being an idiot that night. 
******
“Dean…please…I…” You have to keep strong, tell him to go, you know this won’t end well.
“Please Y/N, You're the only good thing I have in this world, I can’t lose you.” Not waiting for a reply, his lips find yours. 
They're soft, perfect, molded to fit yours, and gentle, Dean doesn’t force his way. Pulling away, when your lungs start to burn,you lock eyes with him. Lust blown, his lips slightly pink. No words are exchanged, you silently say everything you need to him at that moment, and he seems to understand. Bringing his hands to cup your face, he goes back in to kiss you more, letting his tongue swipe across your lips. You allow his tongue to dance with yours. 
Fumbling your way to the couch, Dean falls back first, and you do your best not to land on top of him completely, giggling at the state you're both in. Dean looks up at you, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear, and looking up at you lovingly, “God, I love that laugh of yours.” He says, pulling you down on him. Letting you feel what you're doing to him. 
“Dean, I have to be crushing you.” You protest, trying your best but failing at getting out of the vice grip Dean has on your hips. 
“Nope, You're staying right here.” He says, as he starts to pepper kisses down your neck. 
******
“Dean, I begged you to leave! I knew you never wanted me! And yet like an idiot, I fell for your charm and under your spell.” You grit out, turning on your heels and walking away from him. Fuck, you can’t keep doing this! 
“I did ... .I do ...Y/N look at me” Dean pleads, setting the book down he follows you to the living room, grabbing your hand. “Please, let me explain.”
Turning around, you pull your hand back. His touch, like fire, like touching a hot pan. “You know, I thought for a split second you were telling me the truth. That you wanted me like I have always wanted you.” Pain radiates through you, your voice seems to be stuck behind a lump forming in your throat. God, you want to smack him, but at the same time, kiss him.
Dean’s speechless, trying to work out how best to tell you what he was thinking in that split second when he woke up in your arms that day. For one second he felt total bliss, that everything was falling into place; then reality of his life came back into focus.
“I know, it wasn’t my finest hour.”
You laugh at this, you think!? “What is there to explain? We kissed, had a pretty good makeout, groped each other over and under our clothes, but then we both agreed to take it slow. Right?” You ask for confirmation, even though you remember it all too well.
“Yes, but, Y/N, if you just let me…” Dean stumbles to explain.
“But then, I wake up the next morning alone on the couch with a note that says, ‘Hey, Y/N, Sorry, Sammy needs me, will check in soon.’”
The space between you two is nonexistent. You're trying to find anything in those green eyes of his that will refute anything you just said. Anything to explain that you're overreacting, but there is nothing. He has no rebuttal, because it's all true. He walked out on you, like his father did to him and Sam all the time. The worst part was, Dean had Sam to lean on; you were left with no one.
“Like I said, not my finest hour…” he mumbles out.
“Not your goddamn finest hour?ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!” you yell, slamming your fists into his chest and pushing him away.  It does nothing to move him, and takes all your energy out of you. You stumble a bit, then lean back and sit on the arm of the couch.
“Hey, Y/N, please, calm down.'' His voice is heavy with concern, and he tries to help you up so you can sit on the couch.
“Don’t…touch…me…” You cough out. Needing water, you look to find your water bottle is nowhere. “Fuck….I…” You keep coughing, and try to get up.
“Water?” Dean questions. You nod, and try to get back up. “No, sit, I will go get it.” He tells you and quickly goes to the kitchen, and is back with a glass of water in seconds.
You down about half, the cool water helps calm you and your coughing fits. “Thanks” you mumble, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that he ‘saved you again.’ You don’t look at him as you sit down the glass and avoid him at all costs.
Dean takes this as his opportunity to tell you his side. Sitting on the coffee table so he has direct eye contact with you, he reaches for your hand. “Please, Y/N, I am truly sorry. I know I was a jerk for leaving you like that, and for never calling or coming back.”
You stare him down, not  giving him an out on this one. “Go on. You will hear no objection from me on this one.” You reply.
Dean lets out a small sigh that clearly said fuck, alright here we go. “I was fucking scared, okay? I woke up, saw you in my arms, and for a split second I felt like I was home. My first thought was, this is perfection. No monster, no running the roads, crappy dinner food, and sketchy motels.” 
He leans towards you, putting a hand on your knee, and lightly runs his hands up and gives you a knowing smile. “The perfect, sexy, beautiful, girl in my arms, that I can’t wait to wake up and…”
You stop his hand from getting too close to what both you and him want to touch. “Not so fast  Winchester.” Knowing if he keeps going, you are definitely going to end up in a very compromising position. “No, I bet your first thought was, oh fuck what the hell did I do, and how the hell do I get out of it.”
“No, will you let me talk?. God, I see COVID can take your memory, but not your self-hatred or inability to butt in.” 
You hold your hands up in a fake defense, “Please go on.” You quip back, leaning back into the couch. 
Dean shakes his head, at least you’re sassing back, that is a good sign. “I got up, was going to start coffee for us, and while I was in the kitchen, Sam did call…
*******
“Hey Sammy,”
“How’s everything Dean, you kinda left me hanging? Did you and Y/N talk?” Sam asks, feeling like a schoolgirl catching up on the latest gossip between you too.
Dean takes a quick peek into the living room to make sure you're still asleep. “Yeah, everything is good. We talked and I think we are going to take things slow.” Dean explains, as he starts to make the coffee, he recounts most of the conversation between you two. Not all the details though, he wants to keep the really good stuff just for him. 
Sam lets out a sigh, “That's good, I am happy for you both. But now I hate to ask.”
“What is it?”
“Look, I know you still want to take some time, until Y/N is fully healed, but Jody could really use your help. There is something in South Dakota that is running amuck, and she’s worried that Claire is going to try and tackle it herself.”
Oh Claire, how she reminds Dean of himself sometimes, headstrong and just ready to fight anything that wasn’t human. She is a good hunter, but she is young. “Umm…yeah…I am sure I can make something work….”
“Thanks Dean, I am sure it will only be a day or two, and then you can get back to Y/N. I will call Jody and tell her to expect you.” Sam says.
Saying their goodbyes, Dean hangs up the phone, and has to hold back from throwing it across the room in anger. Fuck! Not two seconds, and he’s already been pulled back into the madness. How is he going to explain this to her? She won’t believe him, she will be heartbroken again, think it's her fault, and say that she told him. 
Seeing no other solution - or maybe it was that he didn’t want to wake you and see that pain in your eyes - he takes the cowardly way out. 
*****
“So you went to help Jody, a friend of mine. And didn’t think I would understand?” You question him, after he explains the conversation between him and Sam. 
“Yes…I guess I figure you would just see it as an excuse I came up with to leave you. Which it wasn’t, by the way.”
“But you said you would call, check in. But you didn’t! You couldn’t have been helping Jody this whole time? And even if you were, could you still have called!”
“I wanted to, but as I was driving away, I kept thinking about what you said, that you felt like an afterthought, that I blow through town whenever I need you. Take what I need and leave you with nothing.”
“So you figure, prove me right by ghosting me? Well, thanks Winchester, real fun.” You spit sarcastically, giving his knee a not-so-playful slap and getting up from the couch. “The door is still where you left it, you can see yourself out.” Fucking asshole. I need to get those locks changed tomorrow. You think, making your way to the kitchen to get some more water, to do anything but sit there and keep listening to him.
“Y/N, please. I am sorry, you're not an afterthought. The more that I kept driving, and the longer I pushed off calling you, it made it harder to call you. Because I knew as soon as I did I would lose you.”
“Funny, because the second you left, you lost me Dean. God, I woke up that morning and was devastated. Do you know how much I hate feeling like that?” Not needing him to answer, you lean up against the counter crossing your arms around yourself. Feeling the tears start to fall, you might as well go all the way. 
“You know, I never wanted to be that girl, who cried over a guy, who refused to do anything but sleep on that goddamn couch for two months because it was the last place I felt safe, and whole, and seen. I could still smell you on the pillows and blanket.” 
Taking a breath, you run your hands over your face. Taking another ragged breath, you work up the courage to tell him what you know he should know, but that you're scared to say out loud. “But the thing I hate the most, the one thing that makes me want to scream…is that I still love you.” You laugh at this. Its fucking absurd. Trying your best  to stifle your laughter, but it keeps bubbling out of you in frustration and disbelief 
Dean’s not sure how to react. On the one hand, you say that you still love him, but on the other hand your laughing like the fucking Joker. “Being in love with me is…funny?” he tentatively asks. Taking a few steps towards you, but not closing the distance. 
Wiping the tears from your face, you admit quietly, “yes, because I know, no matter what, I will always let you back in. I guess I am just a masochist that way. I would rather have you in my life, and be heartbroken, than to not have you and still be heartbroken.”
Shaking your head, in disbelief that you actually said those words out loud, and to Dean no less. You look up to see him watching you, waiting. “God I am pathetic…you really should not have saved me that night…” you mumble the last part to yourself. Pushing yourself off the counter, you turn away from him, to straighten up the non-existent mess on the counter. Shit, should not have said that. 
“GOD DAMN IT Y/N!” Dean’s yell booms, causing you to turn around to see Dean seething with rage.    Taking the last few steps towards you, he pulls you into a vice grip of a hold. “Don’t you ever say that again, do you hear me? Do you?” He commands, shaking with hurt and pain. 
He’s not angry at you, he's angry that you don’t understand how much you mean to him. That you hold your life as something subpar. Pulling away slightly, he lets go so he can hold your face in his hands. “Please don’t ever think or say that I shouldn’t have saved you that night.” His green eyes, glassy with tears about to be shed, bore into yours. “You are the only good thing in my life, and I know I have a lot of work to do to gain your trust back, and that my life is messy and chaotic, but please…please….don’t ever think I would regret saving you that night.”
You nod your head in response. “Okay” you whisper, “I promise.” You were taken aback by his outburst; Dean has never raised his voice to you, or looked this broken. Then again, you’ve never been this broken, or joked about that night before either. It was a topic that neither of you ever really discussed, more of an unspoken bond between you two.
Relief seems to wash over him. His hands fall from your face, his arms wrapping them around your waist, not wanting to leave the closeness of you. “I know I have a lot of work to do, and this may be pushing my luck. But can I kiss you?” Giving you a half smile, hoping that will seal the deal.
“Fuck, there’s that Winchester charm,” you joke, smirking as well. Screw it, it's been four months without those lips. You lean in and kiss him. Letting your lips dance with his for a bit, you pull back, “just as good and I remember.” you say cheekily.
“So, should we go make some new memories on that couch of yours?” Dean gives you a wink, walking backwards towards the living room, his arms still around yours.
You have no choice but to follow him, nodding. You know that you have a lot of work to do getting over your own insecurities and self doubt that Dean will get tired of you, or that he will regret being with you. You need to have faith in him, and in yourself, that you are worthy of a happy life with him; whatever that looks like.
21 notes · View notes
shy-mama · 3 days
Text
The Dream
Tumblr media Tumblr media
There once was a girl who grew up with a family of immigrants, the youngest out of the bunch with memories of blue and confusion. Since young shed looked up at the sky and make wishes, having complete blind fate it would happen. The young girl was beaten by life backstab after backstab, her audacious smile was gone. Turned into a edgy pre teen who was just trying to take it day by day. The dreams were still there but wrong encounters with the wrong people cut the strings of the balloons and made them float into space. Then there was nothing, nothing but love, so she clung onto the little she could conjure up, and there was so very little so she turned desperate. Drugs and visions, visions and drugs. visions inside and out. The love that she had summoned started to consume her until she couldn’t even tell who she was or what, or why. Then after several dark nights of the soul. She sat up. she remembered the wishes she made to the sky. In fact she didn’t just remember, she had always remembered, this time she FELT those wishes once again. She was going to do what she wanted to do because what the hell with it. What she desired was what will make her happy and thats all that mattered to her at that point. She wrote down a list with the cadence of a kindergartner. Become model aka prettiest girl in the world, get cute and popular boyfriend, travel. And for the first time in a long time all of these seemed possible. She just had to get the ball rolling. That day she had completely gained trust in herself. She started with the weight loss she did a juice cleanse which jumpstarted her weight loss. Then got a juicer and would mostly drink juices. Then she applied for about 10 modeling agencies and was accepted to the one she was most hoping for. She knew she would get in since this is what she had been destined to do since she was 3. Thankfully she had the right encounters with the right people and quickly moved up in the modeling world. Her skills and looks were also a testament to that. She was traveling the country and world doing photoshoots and runways and drinking hot chocolate in a cafe with Bella Hadid. First part of her list complete. She had a fashion award ceremony to attend to in Seoul, south Korea. She had been informed from her agent that she would be winning a big award. After she had received her award. Thats when she met the 2nd part of her list. Boy A, he approached her and was visibly in awe of her. The two love birds hit it off immediacy and started dating. Things were moving fast between them, they said its because they feel like they knew each other in several past lives. After a few months they had been caught on one of their outings together. The photos were posted all over and boy A’s fans were outraged, some were sad, and some were happy for him. The blogs were all talking about boy A’s mystery girl lover. She was thriving with this, reading all the jealous and shocked comments had her vibrating she had craved this. It was one of the reasons she wanted a popular and cute boyfriend anyway. Oh and for item 3 on the list that was already accomplished. Because of work she had to travel frequently, she had also gone on friend trips and lover trips as well. 
So the sum of the story is just sit up, you don't have to stand up just start somewhere. Make a list of what you want and I mean truly want. If thats hard for you to find out try to pretend a genie came and gave you three wishes. Then break down those wishes and how to practically get there. honestly along as you start on wish 1 the other wishes will come rolling easily to you, why? Because the universe loves when we have desire. Because love and desire is the creators one true will. And also drill into your head that its impossible to fail. Because the universe has a billion safety nets on every side of you. And if you are like me and really hate this universe talk just remember the universe is closer then you think. Ps the universe is you!, yes when all those manifesters on YouTube are talking about trust in the universe they mean trust in yourself. I don't want to get into the whole quantum physics, astronomy, and spirituality logic of it but I had a hard time trusting the uni. Primarily because it was a source outside myself. Then I learned that universe is literally inside everyone and myself and things got some much easily to understand.I know that at the end of the day if no ones got me I got me. Ive only been alive for 22 years but I, myself, has brought me, myself, out of some much chaos and darkness. So I really have no other choice but to believe in myself and make shit happen.
15 notes · View notes
lowkeyerror · 1 month
Text
The Family Business Ch.3
WandNat x Reader
Word Count: 1.5k
Chapter Notes: Mentions of death, violence, underaged drinking, slight mentions of SA, lisichka=little fox
Summary: Natasha has heard stories of you from Wanda. It has her doubting your current day skill level. With Dragos and Wanda in a meeting, you get the chance to tell her a bit about the person you've become.
An: Finally something between Y/n and Natasha (I say finally as if this isn't chapter 3 lol) Anyway enjoy this chapter and see you back next week.
Series Masterlist | Masterlist
Tumblr media
You could feel Natasha’s eyes on you as you worked. It was tedious work, but you typed away with a smile on your face regardless.  You thought that maybe she’d pick up her phone or something, but she seemed to just watch you.
“You want to ask me something or you just going to keep staring?” You kept your eyes on the computer screen as you addressed her.
“You’re different than Wanda said you’d be,” was all that she said.
You finally looked at the red head, “Well like I said, it’s been a while since she has seen me. A lot has changed in the years she’s been gone.”
“Like what?”
You paused your work to give Natasha your full attention. You sat back fully in your chair pondering back to the last time you saw Wanda. “Well, she left before I graduated. Back then I thought I was going to take my degrees, find an honest job, and live a normal life. I was fragile, even after the self-defense training. I hadn’t held a gun, I hadn’t hacked into anything, I was just a little girl.”
“And now?”
You gesture around you, “Now, I have this nice office. I crunch numbers for the most high-profile company in town, that just happens to be a front for a criminal organization. I have 2 degrees, I can defend my family and myself, I’ve shot a gun more times than I can count, and I could hack into anything that you could imagine.”
“You’ve got a ledger?” The line about the gun seemed to stick out to Natasha.
You shrug your shoulders, “I’ve carried my weight.”
“How many?”
The question startles you a bit. It was so candid as if she was asking about the weather. You could see them, the people you had killed. It wasn’t a large number, not even in the double digits, but still.
“7.” You don't know what compelled you to keep speaking,” I remember all of them. What is it they say about the first one? You will never forget it. I was 20, it was before I joined the organization. Pietro had dragged me to some party.”
“I take it you weren’t a party animal back then?”
You chuckle and shake your head, “Not even a little so I did what everyone does to get comfortable at a party. I took a few shots, it was stupid. As a light weight and someone not of legal drinking age, I should've been more careful. The shots had loosened me up, so I was enjoying the party for awhile. I lost Pietro at some point, but I was too drunk to notice.”
You see Natasha frown a bit, but you continue, “The host of party finds me on the dance floor. We dance for a while; we don't say much, just hi. Someone spilled a drink on me while we were dancing. He offered to get me a new shirt. Like the innocent little idiot I was, I followed him up to his room.”
You paused, almost feeling like you were back in that moment. You could feel everything again, your skin was hot and sweaty, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, you could feel him on you.
Natasha could sense she lost you to the memory. She got up from the couch in your office to make her way towards you. She took a seat on the edge of your desk and pulled your hands into hers. “What happened in his room?”
“He tried to take advantage of me. He tore my shirt off just so his gross hands could grope my skin. He pulled me against him fiddled with his belt before trying mine. His breath was hot on my neck as he peppered kisses on my collarbone. When his hand slipped into my pants, is when it really clicked in my head. I had told him to stop, but he wouldn’t. You know the kind of guys that say, ‘you want this’ or ‘you teased me all night’ or ‘You’re the one half naked in my room’. He was one of those, no wasn’t going to cut it.”
Natasha squeezes your hand as you recount the harsh memory. It looks like you could cry right there in the office. Then all of a sudden, the tears pooling in your eyes are gone. A blank expression takes over your face.
“For a minute, I pretend I’m into what this creep is doing to me. Only enough for him to loosen his grip on me. At this point my back was against his front. I reach behind his head, like my arms trying to loop to bring him closer. Except one of my hand rests on top of his head and the other one is on the opposite side of his jaw. I snapped his neck. His body hit the floor like a sack of potatoes.”
“Y/n- “
“I threw up when I saw him. After I was done, I called Pietro, he found me upstairs with the body. He felt so guilty for leaving me, but I could tell he was surprised too. So surprised that fragile little Y/n had snapped someone’s neck.”
Natasha’s eyes bored into yours, “That asshole deserved that. He deserved worse.”
“He didn’t rest even in death. Dragos made sure of it. He made that family’s life a living hell. It was a message to the entire city that I was under their protection. If anyone so much as laid a finger on me there would be dire consequences.”
A silence filled the room. Natasha didn't remove her hand from yours and you didn't ask her too. You glanced back at your computer, knowing you had to finish your work.
“Wanda never said you were fragile, just delicate,” Natasha’s fingers drew patterns on your hand.
You shake your head, “Wanda has always had a way with turning something negative into a positive. I never saw the difference between the two words, but she’d always say- “
“Fragile things break quickly into millions of pieces under the slightest pressure,” Natasha starts as if she had been there when Wanda said it to you.
“If you were fragile, you wouldn’t be here with us. You’re delicate, beautiful, intricate, and deserve to be handled with care,” you finish with a fond smile on your lips.
“For what it’s worth, I think she was right,” Natasha returns to her space on the couch to allow you to keep working.
She finally pulls out her phone seeming to have relaxed a bit because of your vulnerability. You want to refocus on work, but there are some questions that are nagging you about the woman in your office.
“How did you two meets? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Natasha ponders a minute for a suitable answer, and you take note of it, “The short version is that we met at work.”
You raise an eyebrow, “And what did you do for work?”
“Guess.”
You let your eyes look over the woman. You took in her relaxed posture, the muscles hiding under her shirt, the way she allowed you to be vulnerable with her, the mischievous glint in her eye. She was a multifaceted woman, you could tell.
“Spy, a Russian spy to be exact.”
Natasha seems slightly surprised, “How’d you guess Russian?”
“Romanoff sounds suspiciously close to Romanov, common last name in old Russia.”
“You’re a smart lisichka aren’t you?”
A blush takes over your features, “Little fox is new, but you’re stalling, Natasha.”
She crosses her arms across her chest, “Well I was formerly spy, turned into assassin for hire. I was anonymously hired to kill Wanda.”
“Too charming to kill?”
Natasha sighs, “I tried, but she was just too good. We started this rivalry, playful banter, suggestive tones, I spent a lot of time trapped under her thighs. It got to the point where I didn’t want to kill her, I had terminated the contract, but I just kept coming around to see her. She told me that my skills were being wasted on petty assassinations, when I could be working for her. I said the only way I’d consider was if she went out with me. The rest is history.”
“Leave it to Wanda to seduce an assassin.”
Natasha laughs, “Hey, she only seduced me because I let her.”
“Whatever you say super spy. I’ve got to finish this work before we have to leave for dinner.”
“Flora might have your head if you show up late,” Natasha comments.
You press the small button on your desk, “Thanks for reminding me. Kate, do you think you could get me some hydrangeas for Mrs.Maximoff.”
“Of course, Y/nn, anything for you,” she responds cheerfully.
You roll your eyes, “Thanks Katie.”
With that you're back to working. Though Natasha pulls out her phone, you still feel her eyes on you at time. It sends shivers up your spine, yet you don't want her to stop looking.
Tumblr media
Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername
430 notes · View notes
cr-komi · 4 months
Text
"I Need to Know"
Summary: After a daunting sex experience, you're left with the idea that you're bad at sex, but is that really true? Or should you go to someone else to see if they can be honest with you about the truth?
Pairing: Kim Namjoon X Reader (F)
Genre: Smut, fluff (just a little bit at the very end)
Word Count: 6,200+
Warnings: Swearing, angst, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected sex (don't do this, please!), multiple orgasms
Author's Note: I'm back! It was super fun writing the last story so I'm doing it again :) I hope you all enjoy this one just as much as the last. Again, it's not really proofread per say? More like I just skimmed through it to quickly check for mistakes. Anyway, please enjoy and let me know what you think!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Wait, what did he tell you?"
Your best friend, Sana, had been resting lazily on the arm of the couch, quietly listening as you recollected the events of last night: going to a bar, meeting a guy who, unfortunately, was a total walking red flag, although due to your state of intoxication you were too blind to notice, getting into a car with him and going back to his apartment, and totally fucking up by having sex with him.
To your dismay, your memory had been completely clear, up until the moment you slept with him.
"He told me I was a bad lay." You mumbled, head hanging low.
"Jesus, what an asshole," she retorted, maneuvering herself so that she was facing you, insead of the wall she was previously eye-to-eye with, "why do you think he would say something like that?"
"Well, I know why, actually." You responded, eyes still averted towards the plush rug beneath you, "because the morning after we...you know...did it, he asked me if I wanted to be in a relationship, and I said...well, I said no."
Your words echoed in the stillness of the living room, and for a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath. The only sound was the soft ticking of the clock on the wall.
You hesitated, unsure of how to continue. The shame of your confession still lingered heavily in the air, a painful reminder of your poor judgment.
"Okay," Sana said quietly, trying to gauge the severity of the situation. "So he asked you if you wanted to like...date, and you said you rejected him. Then what happened?"
"Well...he got all mad at me. Saying shit like, 'Oh, I only got with you as a joke,' and 'You're nothing more than just a cocksleeve,' then he told me I sucked at sex and kicked me out."
"Don't worry, Y/N, you probably just bruised his ego and that's how he responded. It's nothing to be upset or embarrassed over."
You looked up at her, your eyes welling with tears. "I know, but I can't get those words out of my head. I mean, does he really think I'm bad at sex? Granted, it's not like I'm an expert or anything like that but--"
Sana reached out and gently squeezed your hand. "Sweetie, you're not bad at sex, trust me. He was just...mad but you'll both get over it. Don't let one asshole ruin your self-image."
"I'm trying, but it's kind of hard, you know? Everytime I try to have sex with a guy it lasts two minutes so they can use me to get themselves off, and then they move on to someone else. I just wish I could find someone who would be honest with me about this whole situation, someone who--"
Suddenly, a light switch went off in your head. You did know someone who could truly tell you if you were bad at sex or not. It may not be ideal, but you can only hope he'll say yes.
"I just...I just thought of something." You whispered, a hint of excitement and nervousness in your voice, "I know someone who can help me out. Someone who could... validate my skills in bed."
"Who is it?" Sana asked, equally intrigued and cautious.
You shot up from your seat on the floor, your phone falling out of your lap in the process, causing a loud crash to erupt the silence that had settled between the two of you.
Sana flinched at the sound, but continued her feat to get an answer out of you, "Well? Who the fuck do you know that can help you out?"
"Uh, it's uh...it's a little weird," you stammered, gently grabbing your phone from off the floor and checking for damages, although none were visible. You didn't want to go through with this, but deep down you knew it was the only option you had.
"Come on, Y/N, spill the beans!" Sana prodded, her voice filled with curiosity.
You hesitated for a moment, your face flushed with embarrassment, "I...I can't I promise I will tell you everything later but can you...will you..."
Sana laughed, "You want me to leave?"
"No, it's not that I want you to, it's just--"
Sana slowly got up from her spot on the couch, “Say no more, Y/N, I know you'll give me all of the juicy details later."
Sana smiled and gave you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, giving you the space to collect your thoughts.
You took a deep breath and gathered your courage, "Okay. I want you to know that this is... unconventional, but I know it's the only way I can get an honest answer."
"Don't worry, girl, I trust you. Have fun though, and be safe!"
You laughed quietly, "I will."
With a smile on her face, she blew you a kiss before picking up her shoes and gracefully departing. As she closed the door gently, you could hear a soft 'click' resonating in the air.
With a resounding sigh, you ran your hands through your hair, calming your shaking nerves by reminding yourself that you'll get through this. You can't change what happened, but you can take control of what happens next.
With a hint of uncertainty, you muttered to yourself, "Alright, here we go." 
You started scrolling through your contacts, nodding as your fingers finally landed on the desired number. Taking a deep breath, you hesitantly pressed the dial button, initiating the call.
After a few rings, he finally picked up.
"Hey, Y/N, I haven't heard from you in a while." His voice was raspy, almost tired in a way, and you wanted nothing more than to simply hang up the phone and live your life with the fact that you're probably bad at sex, but you pushed through.
"Yeah, I know. How are you?" You tried as hard as you could to seem as calm as possible, willing yourself to steady your nervous breathing.
He laughed into the phone, "I'm good, tired, I guess, but that's how things usually are."
You forced a laugh, "Yeah, you're right! Th-that is how things go, that's e-exactly how I'm feeling right now. Life after college isn't easy but I-I'm getting through it and I--" You winced, realizing that you had been prattling on for the past minute about things he probably doesn't care about, "S-sorry, I'm rambling."
You could hear him smile through the phone, "That's okay." He paused for a moment, seemingly thinking about something before continuing, "So, what's up? Did you need something? Or did you just want to check in?"
"Oh, no! I definitely have something to ask you. It's just...kind of hard to say over the phone, can you come over?"
It was dead silent over the line, and you just wanted to crumble into a million pieces. You were so embarrassed. Why did you think this would work? Why did you even think he would say yes to--
"Sure. I'll be over in an hour."
Suddenly, the line went dead, and your mind went numb. Was this really happening? Would he really say yes to this like you hoped he would?
Probably not, but a girl can dream.
Your heart began racing as you realized how close you came to humiliating yourself with your idea. But now, you had a chance to prove yourself and get some real answers.
"I guess I need to get ready." You mumbled, checking the time before scrambling to the shower, ready to shave off every hair on your entire body.
---
The steam enveloped you, a warm cocoon of mist that promised transformation. You stood beneath the cascading water, letting it wash away the remnants of the moments spent waiting for when you could finally see him.
Your fingers combed through your hair, lathering the strands with jasmine-scented shampoo; the fragrance was your favorite, lingering on you like a whispered secret.
"Focus," you murmured to yourself, rinsing the suds from your hair, watching them swirl into the drain. "It's just hanging out, not a life-changing event." But your heart’s fluttering betrayed your casual words.
You reached for the razor, gliding it along your skin with practiced precision, erasing the stubble in smooth strokes. Each movement was methodical, an effort to distract your mind from wandering towards him — his smile, his intellect, his unexpected kindnesses.
"Stop it," you chided yourself, but your lips curved upwards despite the reprimand. "You're just going to jinx it."
After turning off the water, you stepped out onto the plush bath mat, reaching for the towel in an attempt to begin and patting your skin dry. The mirror was fogged over, a ghostly canvas before you. With a sweep of your hand across its surface, your reflection peered back, a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability etched onto your features.
"Okay, Y/N, you can do this. Moisturize, makeup, and then--" Suddenly, a loud bang at the door caused you to jump out of your skin.
Your breath hitched in your throat, and for a moment, you hesitated, wondering if it was simply your imagination playing tricks on you. But the sound echoed in your ears, undeniable and frightening.
"Who could that be?" You thought, pulse quickening. Fear gripped your chest as you flung the towel around your body, clutching it tightly to your still-damp skin.
"Coming!" You called out, voice wavering slightly. You hurried to the door, your bare feet slapping against the cold tiles, leaving wet footprints in your wake. Every step fueled by a sense of urgency, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss.
As you reached the door, you swung it open, revealing the last person you expected to be standing there, despite your phone call from earlier.
Namjoon.
He blinked rapidly, clearly not expecting you to answer the door in such a state.
"Namjoon... What are you doing here? You're early," you stammered, taken aback by his unexpected arrival.
"Uh, yeah," he replied, glancing down at his feet before looking back up at you. "I wanted to come earlier. I just... I don't know, I felt like I needed to see you sooner."
His gaze lingered on you, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of droplets of water cascading down your body, tracing rivulets over your collarbones and along your arms. It was clear that he hadn't anticipated this turn of events, and his obvious distraction only added to the electric charge in the air between the two of you.
"Are you okay?" You asked, your voice a mixture of concern and embarrassment. You couldn't help but feel exposed under his intense gaze, even with the towel wrapped securely around you.
"Uh, yeah," he said again, finally dragging his eyes back up to yours. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you or anything."
Your heart hammered in your chest as you looked at him, trying to discern his true intentions for coming early. Was it simply impatience that had driven him to your doorstep, or was there something deeper at play?
"Can you give me a moment to get dressed?" you asked softly, feeling the warmth of a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Then we can talk."
"Of course," Namjoon replied, stepping back from the doorway. "Take your time."
"No, no," you continued, slightly stuttering, you can come in, I just need a minute. You can make yourself comfortable on the couch or something if you'd like."
Namjoon nodded, noticing the tremble in your voice. He stepped inside, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he crossed the room and sat down on the couch. You closed the door behind him and retreated to your bedroom, quickly pulling on a Brandy Melville tank-top and shorts set.
You didn't put on a bra or underwear underneath...just in case.
You emerged a few minutes later, your hair still damp and looking slightly disheveled. Namjoon was still sitting on the couch, his posture relaxed but alert.
"So," he began as you took a seat across from him. "What did you want to ask me?"
Oh, fuck. Here goes nothing.
"Well...I-I was out the other night," you began, voice trembling with nerves, "and, well, me and this guy, well we...I mean he...I mean we met a-at the bar."
Namjoon nodded, listening intently, never taking his eyes off of you.
"So, we went back to his apartment and...well...we, you know, did it."
Namjoon chuckled, feigning innocence, "I think you may have to spell it out for me, Y/N."
"We had sex." You deadpanned, hands shaking slightly, "a-and when I woke up in the morning, I'll spare you the details, but...he told me...h-he told me I-I was a bad...a bad lay."
You could see the disgust and hurt flash across Namjoon's face at the mention of this guy's insensitivity. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and looked at you intently.
"I'm so sorry, Y/N. No one deserves to hear something like that, especially not you."
"Well...thank you but, I didn't just ask you here for your sympathy."
Namjoon's eyebrows raised in curiosity, "Oh? Well then why did you?"
"Because I..."
Just do it Y/N, it's now or never.
"Because you...?" He continued, trying to make you finish your sentence.
"Because I want your opinion."
You averted your gaze towards the ground, too nervous to gauge his reaction.
"My...opinion?" He echoed, clearly confused.
"I want to know if I'm really bad at sex or not. So...I asked you over because I know you'd be honest with me."
"Y/N, what are you asking me to do?"
"I'm asking you to fuck me...?"
You mumbled the last part, almost embarrassed to have spoken it aloud. Namjoon stared at you for a moment, shocked, before finally speaking, "Is this a joke?"
You hesitated, not sure if this was the right move, but you knew you had to be honest with yourself. With a deep breath, you looked up at Namjoon, meeting his eyes with determination.
"No, it's not a joke," you said firmly. "I want to know, from someone I trust, if I'm really bad at sex or not."
"I-I don't know, Y/N. I mean, seriously? We haven't seen each other in over a year and now you're suddenly asking me to fuck you?" He rose from his place on the couch suddenly pacing back and forth in front of you.
"I know it's sudden but...please if you'd just listen--"
"Y/N, stop. This wouldn't work out. Ever. I'm your brother's best friend."
"But Namjoon, is that--"
"I-I have to go," He interrupted, making a beeline towards the door in an attempt to escape the situation, but you couldn't just let him walk away like this.
Frustrated, you rushed towards him, grabbing him as quickly as possible before he could leave.
He paused, refusing to look at you and instead averting his gaze to the hand wrapped around his wrist.
"Please, Namjoon, just hear me out," you pleaded, your voice a desperate whisper. "I know this is sudden, but I need some closure. I need to know if--"
In an unexpected turn of events, you found yourself taken aback as Namjoon suddenly gripped your shoulders, forcefully slamming you against the door behind you.
The intensity of his tightening grip on your shoulders sent an electric jolt through your body, and you felt your heart rate quicken as you looked up into his eyes. They were filled with a mix of confusion, desire, and something you couldn't quite put your finger on.
"You have to understand something, Y/N," He whispered, leaning in so close to your face that you could feel his hot breath fanning against your cheeks, "There's nothing in this world that I want more than to just fuck you senseless, right here, right now, but I need to know how serious you are."
You looked into his eyes, two twin pools of darkness that seemed to be clouded over with lust, "S-serious?" You stammered, "I-I am serious, Namjoon."
Namjoon's eyes pierced into yours, leaving no room for escape from this bold new territory, "Are you sure that this is what you want? You're not afraid of any sort of consequence that might follow?"
"No," you responded, steadying your voice in an attempt to sound confident, "I'm not afraid, Namjoon, I want this. Please."
He looked down for a moment, and you could tell he was battling his inner conscience, deciding on whether he should really fuck his best friend's sister or not.
He released his grip on your shoulders and ran his fingers through his hair, clearly still conflicted.
You could see the desperation and need in his eyes, trying to muster up the courage to do the very thing he knew he shouldn't be doing.
I mean, was this really the right thing to do? What if in the end--
"Fuck it."
He closed the distance between you two, his lips crushing down onto yours in a passionate and hungry kiss. He was taking control of the situation, and he knew exactly what he wanted.
Your hands shot up to his face, your fingers entwining with his hair as you pulled him closer. His hands began to grip your waist, pulling you even closer to his body as he ground his hips into yours.
Your body trembled with anticipation as Namjoon began to trail kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. You felt his breath on the sensitive skin of your throat, sending shivers down your spine.
As his mouth returned to your lips, you could taste the remnants of his hunger and desire. The tension between you seemed to melt away, as you felt your body respond to his every touch. The wetness between your legs grew with every moment that passed, as you pulled him closer to you.
"Namjoon," you breathed out, your voice a whisper that seemed to hang in the air between you. His hands embraced your waist, pulling you even closer, his body flush against your own. You felt his erection against your thigh, a powerful reminder of how much he wanted you right now.
You moaned softly, arching your back in response to the sensation, and Namjoon responded by deepening the kiss, his tongue darting into your mouth to tangle with yours. His hands roamed over your body, cupping your ass and pulling you even closer to him.
Slowly, he began to guide you towards your bedroom, stumbling through the hallway as you went, your legs feeling weak from the desire that was pooling in your lower half. You hit the bed with a soft thud, Namjoon quickly following you down. He hovered over you, his eyes filled with a hunger that you knew you could easily satisfy.
"Are you sure about this, Y/N?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. You were ready, and you knew it.
He wasted no time in removing your top, exposing your pert breasts to his gaze. His eyes widened as he took you in, his breath catching in his throat.
"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he whispered, his fingers brushing over your nipple, causing it to harden even more.
You moaned loudly, writhing in pleasure as Namjoon began to suck on your right nipple, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. His left hand slowly trailed up your stomach, over your chest, and cupped your other breast, squeezing it gently before rolling the nipple between his fingers. He kissed and nipped at the tender flesh, causing you to gasp.
You felt a sudden rush of heat spread throughout your body as he swirled his tongue around the tip, you've never felt anything like this before—his touch is electric, his kisses like tiny explosions on your skin.
You bit your lower lip, trying to contain the moans threatening to escape. You can feel his erection pressing against your thigh, and it only serves to fuel your desire.
"Namjoon," you breathe, voice hoarse, "Please."
He smirked against your skin, "Tell me what you want, baby."
“Wanna feel your mouth on me.”
He pulled away from your nipple, trailing kisses down your stomach while his fingers traced down your side, up your thigh, until he reached the waistband of your pants.
“Take them off, Y/N," he whispered, his voice a raspy plea.
You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as you reached down and slid off your shorts, revealing your pussy to him. He groaned, clearly impressed as he took it all in.
“No underwear, huh? I guess you knew this would happen.”
You nodded, “Uh huh– oh, fuck!”
He leaned down and licked your outer lips, causing you to gasp and arch your back in pleasure. You moaned in delight as you felt Namjoon's warm, wet mouth close around your clit, his tongue dancing over your sensitive nub.
Your hips bucked up off the bed involuntarily, seeking more contact as he began to lap at you, sucking softly. The sensation is exquisite, the feeling of his tongue on your sensitive folds sending shivers down your spine.
You gasp as he deepens the pleasure tenfold, his hands gripping your thighs tightly to keep you in place. You run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, your head thrown back with a soft whimper.
"Fuck," you pant, your voice barely above a whisper, "that feels so good."
You can feel his hot breath on your pussy, his fingers teasing your entrance as he continues to work your clit with his mouth.
You writhe underneath him, moaning loudly as his tongue flicks over and around your clit, driving you wild. Each time he licks you, you shudder, your body tensing in anticipation of the next stroke. You close your eyes, unable to contain your ecstasy, the pleasure coursing through your veins.
You're lost in the sensation, ignoring everything but how amazing his mouth feels on you. The bed squeaks softly as you rock your hips, meeting each of his movements with your own.
His scent surrounds you, musky and arousing, igniting a fire inside you that burns hotter with every passing moment. His hands squeeze your thighs harder, teases you with his tongue, relentless in his ministrations.
You can feel the heat building inside of you, climaxing ever closer. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you near the edge, throat working to swallow back the moans that threaten to escape, but Namjoon stops you.
"I want to hear you, Y/N."
His words unleash a torrent of emotion in you, and you let out a loud moan as you begin to lose control. Your hands grip his hair, pulling him tighter against your sex as your hips buck wildly.
"I can't hold on," you gasp, your voice barely recognizable.
Namjoon smiles against you, and his fingers begin to move in time with his tongue, probing at your entrance, and you cry out, hips rocking off the bed.
You're close, so close, and you want release more than anything.
With a sudden surge of motion, he adds another finger, pushing it deep inside of you, stretching your walls. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he begins to thrust his hand, filling you up.
Your breath catches in your throat, you arch your back, fingers digging into his shoulders.
The combination of his fingers and tongue on your sensitive flesh is too much to bear, sending you spiraling over the edge. "Namjoon," you whispers, voice thick with desire, "I'm coming--"
Your body tenses, orgasm hitting you like a freight train. A moan rips from your throat as you come hard, hips jerking off the bed.
Your walls grip at his fingers, and your nails dig into his shoulders. You quiver and shake, your whole body shuddering from the force of your release.
"You taste so fucking good, Y/N."
When you finally calm down, you feel the warm stickiness between your legs, the taste of him on your tongue.
Your eyes flutter open to see him smiling at you, his face flushed with pleasure. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, and you flinch from oversensitivity.
You slowly lift yourself up after coming down from your high, meeting Namjoon's eyes, clouded with desire and want.
You lean forward, reaching for his obvious erection, palming him through his pants.
"Fuck, Y/N," he groans, his voice ragged.
"Take them off," you murmur seductively, your voice dripping with lust. Your eyes never leave his as he unzips the fly of his jeans, slowly pulling them down along with his boxers, freeing his erection. It's hard and thick, and you can't help but stare at it, your heart pounding in your chest in anticipation.
Your hands shake slightly as you reach out, wrapping your fingers around the base of his shaft, feeling how hot and hard he is. You stroke him slowly, watching his reactions, the way his eyes flutter shut and his lips part slightly. You can see the desire in his eyes, and you know that he wants you just as much as you want him.
You lean in close, brushing your lips against the head of his cock, teasing him with the promise of what's to come. He lets out a low groan as you trail soft kisses down his length
His shaft, before finally taking him deep into your mouth. You suck on him gently, using your tongue to tease and play with his sensitive head. Namjoon groans, his hands threading through your hair as you pleasure him, your lips slowly moving up and down his shaft.
His hips buck, trying to thrust into your mouth, and you let him, gagging slightly but continuing to take him deeper and deeper until his entire length is inside of you. You moan around him, enjoying the taste and feel of him, the warmth and the power you have over him.
"H-holy shit, Y/N. Fuck that feels so--fuck."
You pull back, sucking hard on the head one last time before releasing him. You look up at Namjoon, who is looking down at you with an expression of pure desire. 
His hands find their way into your hair, tangling in the silken locks as he struggles to maintain control. He moans your name, encouraging you to continue, his eyes closing tightly as he loses himself in the sensation. The sound of slurping and smacking fill the air as you bob your head up and down, your mouth working him almost mechanically.
He can feel the bed dipping slightly with every thrust of your head, your bodies moving in sync. The scent of arousal fills the room, and Namjoon knows he's close to the edge. He begins to pant, his breath coming faster as he nears his climax.
Sighing he grabs your hair tighter, pulling you off his dick and forcing you to look up at him, "Enough, I don't want to come before I'm inside of you."
Namjoon lets go of your makeshift ponytail, and reluctantly, you pull away, sitting on your haunches before him, waiting to see what he does next.
He roughly tugs his jeans the rest of the way down his legs, and you fiddle with the hem of his shirt, silently pleading with him to remove it so that he can be bare in front of you.
He obliges, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. His rippling muscles and toned abs are revealed, sending a shiver down your spine.
Namjoon's sculpted body was, in his words, "a testament to the hours of dedication he committed to both his physical and mental well-being." His broad shoulders tapered downward into a lean, chiseled torso that showcased his defined pectoral muscles. The light caught the edges of his rippling abs, seemingly amplifying their strength. His arms, strong and toned, were equally impressive - a result of countless hours spent lifting weights and perfecting his form.
You stare at him in awe and reach out, wanting to feel his body against yours. You pull him down onto the bed, your hands exploring every inch of him as you kiss him passionately. His hands run through your hair, gently pulling it back as he takes your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.
His body presses against you, your breasts flattening against his chest as he deepens the kiss. You can feel his cock, hard and pulsating, pushing against your thigh.
Your hands explore his back, feeling the muscles ripple beneath your touch. He lifts himself up, breaking the kiss, and you feel his weight shift as he positions himself between your legs.
He stares at you for a moment with questioning eyes, "Ready?"
You nod eagerly, breath hitched in anticipation. Namjoon slowly pushes himself inside you, your walls tightening around him as he fills you completely. You gasp, arching your back as your body adjusts to his girth.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he groans, his eyes locked on yours.
He begins to move, thrusting slowly at first, but gaining momentum as he finds your rhythm. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you.
"Shit, Namjoon!" You cry out, your voice a mix of pleasure and pain as he hits just the right spot. His movements become more urgent, and you can feel his cock hitting your G-spot with each thrust.
"F-fuck Y/N. You’re so tight babe." He growls, his hips pounding into you.
You whimper, your body trembling from the sensation of his dick filling you up and stretching you out.
You're so close, so close to coming undo--
Suddenly, Namjoon pulls out of you, and you whine at the empty feeling, looking up at him with pleading eyes, "Namjoon, what are you--"
"Turn around," He interrupts, grabbing your hips, "ass up."
You blush at his words, but your arousal only deepens as he helps you turn around, and he positions himself behind you.
He rubs the head of his dick against your entrance, teasing you and making you crave him even more. You moan softly, reaching down to guide him inside you.
With a swift, powerful thrust, Namjoon slams into you, filling you completely as the bed creaks beneath the two of you. You cry out, your hands flying to your mouth to stifle the sound, but your voice gives out and you let out a yelp.
Your heart races as Namjoon's hips slam into you, feeling the thick length of his cock hitting your sweet spot with each hard thrust.
You moan loudly, a hand clutching onto the sheets underneath you and the other running through your hair.
The headboard hits the wall with a loud thud as Namjoon forces himself deeper inside of you, causing you to cry out in pleasure. Your body trembles under the onslaught of sensations - the feeling of being here, the pleasure spreading through you, the sound of your skin slapping together.
"Damn, you have such a nice ass," Namjoon pants, his breaths coming in short gasps as he smacks the supple skin before running his hand back over the spot he marked to soothe it.
You whimper in response, it only serves to intensify the experience for you, the sting combining with the delight of being taken so roughly.
You thrust your hips back towards Namjoon, meeting his movements with equal force, his cock leaking pre-cum onto the floor.
"And these tits," He growls, leaning forward to cup your left breast, rolling the nipple through his fingers, causing you to moan loudly without restraint, body trembling with anticipation.
Namjoon growls low in his throat, his free hand finding its way to your puffy clit, rubbing it gently as he thrusts into you.
"Oh god, Namjoon!" It's almost too much for you to handle - the dual sensations are driving you wild.
You feel yourself getting closer to the edge, but you don't want it to end yet, not when Namjoon is treating you like this.
With a groan, Namjoon pulls out almost completely, only to slam back in with more force than before. Your fingers dig into the mattress beneath you, breath hitching as your walls tighten around him, "Fuck, Namjoon, I'm so close!"
"Yeah? You gonna come again, baby?"
"Yes, Namjoon, please!"
Namjoon smiles wickedly, increasing his pace as he feels your desire growing. He grabs the back of your hips, pulling you harder against him as he thrusts deeper inside you. His thrusts are rough and unrelenting, his hips pounding into you with each powerful impact.
You can feel the dampness between your legs, the juice from your arousal seeping down your thighs and onto the bed. The sound of your breaths and his grunts fill the room as the tension builds. Your nails dig into the mattress, leaving small indentations as you cling to the fabric for dear life.
His hands roam over your body, caressing your skin and heightening your sensitivity. He tweaks your nipples, causing you to cry out with pleasure and pain. His fingers explore your inner thighs, trailing along your sensitive skin, making you tremble with desire.
"Oh, shit," Namjoon groans, his eyes rolling back into his head as he feels his own orgasm beginning to build.
With a final burst of energy, you push back against him, meeting his every thrust as he pounds into you, his cock rubbing against your G-spot with each strong movement.
"Fuck, Namjoon!" You cry out, your body trembling uncontrollably as you feel your climax beginning to take hold.
"Shit, Y/N, I'm so close," Namjoon growls, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he fights to hold back his orgasm.
Your walls tighten around him once more, pulling him deeper inside you as you scream out in pleasure, your body writhing beneath him as you feel the waves of your release crash over you. Your walls tighten and release around Namjoon's pulsating cock, causing him to groan in pleasure.
His own release is becoming too much to hold back, and with a final, powerful thrust, he buries himself deep inside you as he lets out a loud groan. Your name on his lips as he cries out in pleasure, "Holy shit, Y/N!"
His hips stutter, body trembling as his orgasm overtakes him. You can feel his warm, fluid spilling inside of you, filling you completely. The sensation is unlike anything you've ever experienced before - it's intense, it's overwhelming, and you love every second of it.
He holds you tightly against him, his breath hot against the back of your neck, as he slowly starts to regain his composure. His heart is pounding against your back erratically.
You slowly open your eyes and look back at him, a content smile gracing your lips. "That was incredible, Namjoon," you breathe, your voice soft and sultry.
He kisses your neck, his lips leaving a trail of warmth as he moves down your shoulder. "I think I agree," he murmurs, his voice already starting to calm down.
You both lay panting, your bodies entwined, the sweat glistening on your skin, the scent of passion filling the room. He pulls out of you, his cock wet and sticky from your connection. He pulls his hips away from you and collapses next to you on the bed, both of you trying to regain your breath.
The seconds pass into minutes, and you both lay there in content silence, your bodies entwined, the remnants of your encounter still lingering between you.
Namjoon's fingers trace lazy patterns on your back, his touch gentle and soothing. He leans in close to your ear, whispering, "Let me clean you up."
"Mmm, okay," you reply, your voice still thick with lust.
He gets off the bed and grabs a warm cloth from the bathroom, bringing it back to you.
Slowly, he turns you over, and you lay on your back, your legs spread wide, his body hovering above you. He takes the cloth and smiles, gently dabbing at your sensitive folds, cleaning away the remnants of your sexual encounter.
You moan softly, your body still quivering from the intensity of your orgasms. His touch is soothing, yet it sends shivers of desire through you. He continues to clean you, his fingers exploring your delicate folds as he does so.
Once he's finished, he places the cloth on the nightstand and lies down beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you close.
His fingers trace the curve of your hip, massaging gently as you both lay there, catching your breath and basking in the afterglow of what the two of you have just done.
The room is filled with the sound of your heartbeats, in sync and pounding in rhythm with each other. You feel safe and secure in Namjoon's arms, and you turn to face him, a gentle look etched into your features, "So, what did you think...?"
He softly strokes your hair, "About what?"
"Well...am I a bad lay...?" You mumble the last part and he smiles, cupping your cheek in his hand.
"No, absolutely not. You were...perfect. He was probably just upset that you rejected him and that's how he reacted."
You snuggle closer, feeling his heartbeat syncing with yours,"I'm glad you're here with me," you whisper.
Namjoon nods, "Me too."
You smile, feeling his warmth enveloping you.
The tentative silence is broken by Namjoon's voice as he speaks, "Do you want me to stay the night?"
You think for a moment, "Yes, please."
"I'll be right back," he says as he gets off the bed, returning a moment later with a clean sheet and blanket. He carefully covers the two of you with the cozy layers, your bodies pressed closely together.
"Sleep well, Y/N." He whispers.
"Sleep well."
As the night progresses, you both drift off to sleep, the dim light from the moonlight streaming through the window casting soft shadows on the wall. The scent of sex lingers in the air, a heady reminder of the passion that had just passed between the two of you. You are lulled into a peaceful slumber, your hearts beating in harmony with each other's rhythm.
608 notes · View notes
estapa-edwards · 9 days
Text
TEAMMATES SISTER - L. HUGHES
Tumblr media
paring: Luke Hughes x fem! reader
word count: 2k
requested? yes - luke meeting an ice skater at umich and falling in love with her but never confessing their feelings for each other, he knew she had a brother but didn’t know that he was john marino… she goes to a playoff game for the devs and luke sees her outside the locker room
warnings: use of y/n.
*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*
It was a crisp winter morning when Luke first laid eyes on her. Y/N was effortlessly carving figures into the ice, her movements fluid and mesmerizing. Clad in a simple yet elegant skating outfit, she seemed to embody the very essence of the sport. Luke found himself unable to tear his gaze away from her, his heart beating faster with each graceful turn.
Despite being a talented hockey player himself, Luke felt a sense of awe and admiration for Y/N's skill on the ice. He found himself frequenting the university's ice rink, hoping to catch another glimpse of her. And as fate would have it, their paths crossed one afternoon when Luke decided to lace up his skates and join the other skaters on the ice.
At first, Y/N seemed oblivious to Luke's presence, lost in her own world as she executed a series of intricate jumps and spins. But as he gained confidence and began to skate closer to her, their eyes met, and Luke felt a jolt of electricity shoot through him. It was as if time stood still, and in that moment, he knew he had to get to know her.
Their initial conversation was awkward and stilted, filled with nervous laughter and fumbled words. But as they continued to skate together, a bond began to form between them. Luke learned that Y/N was a sophomore studying engineering, and that she had been skating since she was a child. She, in turn, discovered Luke's passion for hockey and his dreams of one day playing professionally.
Luke had mustered up the courage to skate closer to Y/N, his heart pounding in his chest as he approached her graceful form. With a nervous smile, he greeted her, "Hey, mind if I join you?"
Y/N looked up, her cheeks flushed from the cold, and returned his smile, "Sure, the more the merrier!"
As they skated side by side, Luke couldn't help but admire Y/N's skill and grace. "You're an amazing skater," he remarked, a hint of awe in his voice.
Y/N chuckled, a twinkle of amusement in her eyes, "Thanks, I've been doing it for as long as I can remember. It's like second nature to me."
Luke nodded, feeling a sense of kinship with her passion for the ice. "I feel the same way about hockey," he confessed, "It's like I was born with a stick in my hand."
As Luke and Y/N continued their conversation, their initial awkwardness melted away, replaced by a sense of comfort and familiarity. With each passing moment, they found themselves opening up to each other, sharing stories and memories that they had never shared with anyone else.
Luke recounted fond memories of playing hockey in the backyard with his older brother, the two of them dreaming of one day making it to the big leagues together. "My brother was my biggest inspiration," Luke admitted with a smile, "He always pushed me to be the best player I could be."
Y/N listened intently, a small smile playing on her lips as she nodded in understanding. "I know what you mean," she replied, "I have a brother too, and he's the reason I started skating in the first place."
She went on to tell Luke about her older brother, a talented hockey player who had taught her everything she knew about the sport. "He's always been my biggest supporter," Y/N confessed, "I don't know where I'd be without him."
As they shared stories of sibling rivalry and camaraderie, Luke and Y/N discovered that they had more in common than they had initially realized. Their love for hockey ran deep, rooted in the bonds they shared with their siblings and the memories they had made together on the ice.
And as they skated side by side, lost in conversation and laughter, Luke couldn't shake the feeling that he had found someone truly special – someone who understood him in a way that no one else ever had. Little did he know, Y/N felt the same way, her heart swelling with warmth as she realized that she had found a kindred spirit in Luke.
*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*
As Luke and Y/N's friendship blossomed, they found themselves spending more and more time together both on and off the ice. They became each other's confidants, sharing their hopes, fears, and dreams with one another in the quiet moments between practices and classes.
Luke was drawn to Y/N's unwavering determination and fierce independence. He admired the way she approached her skating with a sense of discipline and focus, never allowing herself to be deterred by setbacks or challenges. And as he watched her push herself to new heights on the ice, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride swell within him.
Y/N, in turn, found herself captivated by Luke's easygoing nature and infectious enthusiasm. He had a way of lighting up a room with his smile, and she found herself drawn to his positive energy like a moth to a flame. Whether they were goofing off on the ice or studying together in the library, Y/N cherished every moment she spent in Luke's company.
Despite their growing feelings for one another, Luke and Y/N were both hesitant to take the next step and confess their love. They feared that doing so would irreparably damage their friendship, and so they kept their emotions carefully guarded, burying them deep beneath the surface where no one else could see.
But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months, their unspoken feelings began to weigh heavily on them both. They found themselves caught in a seemingly endless cycle of longing and frustration, their hearts yearning for something more even as their lips remained sealed shut.
But as their time at the University of Michigan drew to a close, Luke found himself faced with a life-changing decision. After months of hard work and dedication, he had received an offer to join the NHL, drafted by none other than the New Jersey Devils. It was a dream come true for Luke, a chance to pursue his passion on the biggest stage possible.
When Luke finally mustered up the courage to share the news with Y/N, he was met with a mixture of excitement and sadness. She was thrilled for him, of course, proud of all that he had accomplished. But deep down, she couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension that settled in the pit of her stomach.
"I'm going to miss you," Y/N admitted, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked into Luke's eyes. "But I know this is what you've always wanted, and I couldn't be happier for you."
Luke smiled, reaching out to take her hand in his. "I'm going to miss you too," he confessed, his heart aching at the thought of leaving her behind. "But no matter where I go, you'll always be in my heart."
*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*
The atmosphere inside the arena was electric as the New Jersey Devils battled it out on the ice in a crucial playoff game. The crowd roared with excitement, their cheers echoing throughout the stadium as the players fought tooth and nail for victory.
Amidst the sea of red and black jerseys, Y/N stood out like a beacon of hope, her eyes shining with anticipation as she watched the game unfold before her. She had always been a devoted fan of the Devils, but tonight held a special significance for her – her brother, John Marino, was a star defenseman for the team, and she wouldn't miss the chance to cheer him on in person.
As the final buzzer sounded and the Devils emerged victorious, Y/N couldn't contain her excitement. She leaped to her feet, cheering and applauding with the rest of the crowd as the players skated off the ice, victorious smiles plastered across their faces.
But amidst the chaos and celebration, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of her stomach. She knew that her brother would be heading to the locker room soon, and she wanted nothing more than to congratulate him on the win. But as she made her way through the crowded concourse, her heart skipped a beat as she spotted a familiar figure standing just a few feet away.
Luke.
She knew that he would be at the game, of course – she had told him as much when she had scored the tickets. But seeing him there, in the flesh, sent a jolt of electricity shooting through her veins. Despite their unspoken feelings for each other, Y/N couldn't deny the rush of excitement that coursed through her at the sight of him.
Luke's eyes met hers across the crowded hallway, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. He looked just as handsome as ever, his face lit up with a smile as he made his way towards her, weaving through the throngs of people with ease.
"Y/N," he called out, his voice barely audible above the din of the crowd. "I didn't know you were coming to the game!"
Y/N smiled, her heart pounding in her chest as she returned his gaze. "I wouldn't miss it for the world," she replied, her voice tinged with excitement. "And besides, I wanted to be here to cheer on my brother."
Luke's smile widened at the mention of John, and Y/N felt a surge of pride swell within her. Despite their complicated relationship, she knew that Luke harbored a deep respect for her brother, and seeing the admiration in his eyes only served to strengthen her feelings for him.
"Well, well, well, look who we have here," John teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he glanced between his sister and Luke. "Y/N, I didn't know you were bringing your boyfriend to the game."
Y/N felt her cheeks flush crimson at her brother's playful jab, her grip on Luke's hand tightening reflexively. She shot John a warning glare, silently pleading with him to drop the subject, but he only grinned wider in response.
"Is that so?" Luke asked, his eyebrows raised in surprise as he turned to look at Y/N. "I didn't realize I was your boyfriend."
Y/N felt a surge of panic well up inside her as she struggled to find the right words to explain. She had never told Luke about her conversations with John, the late-night texts and phone calls filled with giddy excitement and whispered confessions.
Before she could respond, John chimed in with a laugh, "Oh, come on, Y/N, don't be shy. We all know you couldn't stop talking about Luke when you were at Michigan. I practically had to pry my phone out of your hands just to get a word in edgewise."
Y/N's cheeks burned with embarrassment as she shot her brother another pleading look, silently begging him to stop. But John only shrugged nonchalantly, clearly enjoying the opportunity to tease his sister in front of Luke.
Luke, meanwhile, seemed to be taking it all in stride, his expression a mixture of amusement and curiosity. He turned to Y/N with a playful glint in his eye, his lips quirking up into a smirk.
"So, what do you say, Y/N?" he asked, his voice teasing. "Should I start calling you my girlfriend?"
Y/N felt her heart skip a beat at the thought, a rush of excitement coursing through her veins. Despite the embarrassment of being caught out by her brother, she couldn't deny the surge of happiness that filled her at the prospect of being with Luke.
Before she could respond, however, John interjected once more, his tone lighthearted but tinged with a hint of seriousness. "You know, Luke, you better treat my sister right. Otherwise, you'll have me to answer to."
Luke nodded, his eyes meeting John's with a determined glint. "Don't worry, John," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity. "I wouldn't dream of doing anything to hurt her."
And as they made their way into the locker room, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude wash over her. Despite the embarrassment of being caught out by her brother, she knew that John's teasing had come from a place of love and protection. And as she looked at Luke, his hand warm in hers, she couldn't shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, everything was finally falling into place.
Tumblr media
306 notes · View notes
srvbryn · 2 months
Text
Luke Castellan. Flowers? What flowers
Tumblr media
Luke Castellan X f!reader
summary: candlelit dinner with Luke Castellan
Valentine's prompt is from Valentine's Day Prompt
A/n: I apologize for posting shitty fanfic 😔🙏🏻
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Luke revealed a stunning bouquet of vibrant flowers in the delicate shine of a lit candle, “Behold! Unparalleled beautiful flowers, suitable for my lovely lady.”
(Name) raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into an amused grin. "Luke, flowers and a candlelit dinner? have i swallowed a romance novel? did you?”
Luke winked, striking a pose. "Why not both? I'm a man of many talents, you know."
He couldn't help but say, "Consider it a token of my undying gratitude for your unmatched skill to endure my behaviour," as she happily accepted the bouquet.
She playfully rolled her eyes. "Flowers, Luke? I thought we were more of a prank and sarcasm kind of friendship."
Luke laughed, "Well, I figured a bit of floral finesse wouldn't hurt. Besides, even mischief-makers like me need a touch of romance."
Their conversation flowed naturally all throughout the candlelit dinner, telling an amusing story that only two closest companions was able.
Luke leaned back and smirked in satisfaction after telling an extremely long story concerning an incident involving spaghetti. "Who needs a romance novel when we've got this absurdly entertaining day?"
(Name) chuckled, toying with the flowers. "True, our story might not be a bestseller, but it's definitely a wild ride."
The evening wore on with laughter, shared memories, and more than a few clumsy attempts at being overly romantic.
Luke took a deep breath, "So, uh, Angel, about these flowers... they're not just for show."
(Name) raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on her lips. "Oh? Is this a new chapter in the Luke Castellan playbook, or did someone switch our scripts?"
He chuckled nervously, "Well, let's just say these flowers are... my way of saying something."
Her curiosity piqued, (Name) leaned in. "Spill it, Luke. I'm not great at deciphering floral messages."
Moving closer, he gave her another bouquet. "Consider these flowers as an introduction for what I'm going to say."
As she accepted the bouquet, he added, "I might be a prankster and a charmer, but there's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while."
(Name) looked at him, intrigue mixed with a hint of surprise. "Okay, Luke, hit me with it."
Taking a deep breath, Luke locked eyes with her. "I think... no, scratch that, I know that what we have is more than just friendship. (Name), I... I really like you. More than just friends."
Her eyes widened, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Luke, are you telling me you're about to confess, right here, surrounded by candlelight and flowers?"
He nodded, "yeah I am"
She chuckled, "Well, I appreciate the fact that you swallowed a romance book for all this courage," (name) continues "But, in all seriousness, I like you too, Luke."
Relief washed over him, and Luke grinned. "So, we're on the same page?"
(Name) leaned in, closing the gap between them. "Absolutely."
Warmth of the moment enveloped them as their lips found each other in a sweet and tender kiss.
As they pulled away, Luke couldn't help but smile. "Well, that was definitely not in the usual playbook."
(Name) laughed, "Who needs a playbook when we've got this?" She gestured between them, the flickering candlelight casting a soft glow on their intertwined hands.
As they withdrew, their laughter continued to reverberate, but Luke couldn't help but grin. "You know, (Name), if I knew you were a good kisser, I would've confessed earlier."
(Name) raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Oh, is that so? Maybe you should've done your research before the grand confession."
Luke chuckled, and before he could react, (Name) playfully tugged at his necktie. "Research or not, let me show you what you've been missing."
She pulled him in for another kiss. The soft glow of candlelight painted their shared moment.
Luke smirked, "Maybe romance novels were onto something after all."
226 notes · View notes
badgyalshii · 1 month
Text
ITS NEVER OVER | II
Paul Atreides x Reader (always safe for POCS+ Plus size)
2.6k word count
warnings! idk really you tell me lmao. just sad really, flashbacks, etc. proofread, uhhh most of it.
A/N: im so happy i got the results that I did in the first part, im thinking of starting a taglist for this series maybe so just send me an ask saying you wanna be in there and i gotchuuuu! thank you to everyone who reads my stories, i was supposed to post this yesterday but i was pretty busy. i am overall happy with how this series is going! i was gonna leave it simple and end it here, but honestly i feel like i could keep going with this, love you guysss!😘
Access Part I here. I . II . III . IV .
Tumblr media
¨its just protocol¨ ¨it wasnt necessary, i watched. Ive watched you, standing behind you. Who are you, paul?¨
¨y/n? Helloooo, y/n¨ chani waved her hand in your face as the memory slowly faded and you came back to your vision and seeing chani infront of you. You both laid on the small bed, hot when the sun was up or down. Chani wanted more, she swore she did. When she wasnt talking to you she was searching for something to make this ¨house¨ feel comforting, like a home. You closed your eyes as the flashback completely faded in your head. You both were laying down, she was across from you with a worried look on her face as you blinked. ¨yes chani?¨ ¨are you prepared?¨ she asked. You struggled to remember what she was talking about, and her concerned look never left her face. ¨To leave¨ chani whispers gently. She knew you still had feelings for paul, and she couldnt fight to win you over in your constant mental battle. You never felt like this before. Wanting only one person- no, needing them. Under your eyes grew heavier and heavier. Days grew longer and you hardly slept and when you did it was of paul, had you have no life of your own? Have you grown depressed? You sighed, stood and you dressed, taking a deep breath in as you pulled up your pants and grabbed your mask.
Its been 6 years, 6 years on arrakis with chani, and you never forgot. You never forgot the life that you used to have, the life you missed so deprately, and you never came to terms with your new life, even if it was with chani. You missed stilgar, you missed everyone, grouped together, eating, small laughs between you and your friends, paul picking at your plate whenever you didnt really feel like finishing your food. You loved chani, you love her, youve became closer and closer like sisters. She taught you her own individual skills that shes learned along the way, but you guys barely talked. Her company was comforting, but all you really thought about was paul, and his new marriage, and his new wife. Was it just…..protocol? You could tell when you spoke to chani that she was extremely uninterested in the topic of paul, but thats all you ever thought about.
Tumblr media
You found another place in arrakis, it took about 6 sandworms to get to your destination and you lived in once again, another large rock. You and chani hunted for water and when you found it you both started to make another ¨tent¨ in the rock to live at for a while. You both sat down and ate.
¨whats on your mind?¨ chani asked worryingly, she worried, she worried so often. She only wanted whats best for you and it hurt to see you this way but she covered it with her toughness. ¨paul. Maybe he was right-¨ ¨y/n, it has been six years since then. Please-¨
¨maybe… i should go¨ you thickly swallowed, looking at your hands before you looked back up at her. Her jaw was clenched before she released it, she has an irritated look on her face before she released her eyebrows. ¨im coming with you”
As you got dressed to go back to him, you thought of him. Maybe it was because of the way he laughed so softly against your lips that made you miss him. Maybe its because of how his warm and rough fingers softly grazed your face and on your body sending butterflies in your stomach and tiny shocks wherever his loving touch landed, eager to touch you, the way his green but now electric blue eyes looked at you with pure admiration. He was so perfect. Everything you wouldbe thought you wanted on paper was right infront of you, waiting on you. You couldnt lie, you were excited to see him and thankful chani allowed you to go back. You wondered about him, wondered how he looked now, was he more mature? Did his voice get deeper? was it just protocol? Did you make a mistake? Is he safe? Is he still there? Does he still love you?
Anxiety crept through your throat before you swallowed it back down. Chani was already ready to go as soon as she shes going with you. You looked at her, she was sitting outside of the giant rock, waiting for you and if she wasnt already so smart, she turned feeling eyes on her back almost as if she could sense you, one eyebrow raised as she then crossed her arms and leaned on her left foot. You sighed before picking up your things, walking up to chani she put her hand on your shoulder and patted it. ¨can we just sit here? we just got here! look at the view¨ she said before crossing her arms again and looking at you with a smile.
The view was clearly beautiful. The sun coming down as it usually does but in this particular rock, there was something different about the scenery. ¨pretty cool for a shit planet¨ you muttered, dropping your things before you got down and sat criss cross. Chani joined you, enjoyed the view for a little longer before she looked over at you.
¨why do you like him so much, Paul?¨ she questioned kindly, usually she didnt like talking about him, she was never a fan. You looked at her, studying her face you could see she had a serious face beside her eye slightly winched from the sun, she waiting on your answer before she lifting her knee and laid on her elbow. you sighed before sitting with your legs flat out with your hands in your lap, it wasnt a hard question, it just caught you off guard. Why were you so attracted to him? . ¨i….i dont know, actually¨ you looked back into the view, chewing on the side of your cheek before continuing. ¨its not everyday you get a new comer who is so emotionally strong but you could see he is so lost in those gorgeous eyes. Someone so intelligent, beautiful, kind, and wise. Who wants to learn and is¨ you did an exaggerated sigh before raising your fingers to quote ¨so humble, as stilgar says¨ chani laughs before laying flat out. ¨he was new, wasnt like us. us growing up, we were used to the same routine, everyone around everyone. So when he got here, when he wanted me.. I just…felt…different. Everything felt different¨ a small smile played on your face as you thought of him.
“ever thought of kids?” paul asked, playing with your hair. “why are you thinking of kids in your current situation, paul? wouldnt that be too much?” you reply, your arm laid across him and your head in his chest. he chuckled in return, you felt his heartbeat skip and pitter patter before you felt the vibrations from his voice, “i wouldnt wanna have a kid unless its yours, y/n” and with that you smiled and looked up at him, pressing a kiss to his lips before he wrapped his arms around your waist to flip you guys over, you both chuckled before paul pulled up the sheets.
You wanted to feel his warm embrace again. You wanted him again. ¨i had a vision- well a dream that one day, he would be ruler. Be so wise and so gentle, which he already is. But i would be at his side, carrying his kids. Happy family. Getting to see his eyes… looking into him and only seeing love, i wouldnt ever grow tired of it. Y/N atredies, queen of atredies, me and him. You and stilgar, everyone around each other. Happy family, happy life. Of course war, but-¨ you cut yourself off, ¨i just want love, ever since i experieced it with him, its hard to let go. He teached me genuine love, nothing less, nothing more. The way he was so honest. How could i ever let that go?¨ you questioned, a puzzled look on your face as you waited on chani to answer. She took a pause, she once again looked back at the view before looking at you.
¨you do understand that he isnt the same anymore, right?¨”she said, looking up. ¨i understand,¨ you nodded, ¨ and i saw it, when he said he was waiting for me. He changed when he drunk the water of life. I dont think he really… values relationships anymore. I remember, i remember before he drunk the water, way before. He would tell me about these nightmares he had and how he was going to do everything to stop it¨ you pursed your lips to the side, as the conversation flowed, your confidence in your relationship was going lower and lower. As much as you didnt want to hear it, you needed to. ¨he lost himself, y/n¨ chani says. ¨are you sure when you walk back into his life hes gonna be the same old paul?¨
You bit your lip before looking down at your hands and let out a breath, ¨thats what were going to find out, right?¨ ¨to be honest,¨ chani sighed and put her hands behind he head, looking at the ceiling of the rock. ¨ i dont really trust him, never did. nor do i like him. He took advantage of us y/n. Tricked us, making us fight for him¨ chani said without filter. ¨he is the preacher, its written. I believe in him¨ you said pridefully, showing humility as you will always stand behind your one true love. ¨you got your sight taken by the vision of love¨ chani looks at you, she felt bad that you were so blind. But you were often like this, always have been. Soft, sensitive, caring. Its true, you and muad´dib are perfect for each other, chani could see that, but you honestly didnt wanna talk about it if she wasnt even gonna try to understand. ¨white savior¨ she finishes and looks up at the ceiling of the rock again before she looks back into the distance. ¨i love him¨ that was your finishing statement.
It was as if nothing faded, like you didnt grow, like you saw paul yesterday, like you never left. Chani felt so bad, so bad that you kept searching for paul in sleepless nights. But she also felt slightly angry, as if she didnt take you under her wing and teach you something brand new, a new way of life. It was like you totally discarded it, like you didnt want it, you didnt want to. Paul or nothing. Did you not value chanis friendship? Her love? She would never ask, shes too dominate for that. But it bothered her.
¨we should leave before it gets too late¨ chani mutters, letting out a slight groan before she stood and wiped her hands off on the pockets of her pants. You followed suit and picked up your bag before something dropped. It was pauls necklace, a family heirloom he trusted you with, he wanted you to have it. You looked at it before picking it up, rubbing over it and placing it over your neck before following chani.
The sand crunched against your shoes as you followed her, she was silent as she held the tools to get a sandworm. It was offly hot today and you both lacked water so she viewed it at that point, she already discussed with you that she wasnt gonna work for muad´dib, wasnt gonna fight for him, only gonna fight for her people. You looked at her, the sweatbeads on her forehead visible but it didnt make her look bad. You sat while you waited for the sandworm to appear.
Tumblr media
When you arrived the foundation looked huge, guards around the premises dressed in black, all tall, muscular, and you could easily tell they were worthy of their place. ¨follow me¨ chani said, her walk bold and strong as you followed behind her in suit. Chani walked up the the guard and the guard had a strong bold look. ¨who are you?¨ the guard asked. ¨chani¨ she replied, taking off the mask that covered her eyes. ¨freman¨ he muttered, he looked over chanis shoulder and saw you. ¨and you?¨ he questioned, ¨freman¨ you replied. He stepped aside and allowed you both to enter. Chani pushed the door open, coming inside and you followed.
You werent used to this, spending all your life living in a rock. The walls were long and you looked at them, wanting to touch them, study the whole place. But there was something else you wanted to see to, the love of your life. ¨y/n, im gonna try to find stilgar. Be safe¨ chani whispered to you. ¨chani, this is home. Everyone we know is here, this is family¨ you said with a smile on your face. ¨its been six years. Foundations couldve changed, family couldve changed. Who knows what paul did, y/n¨ she said stern. You nodded your heard and she did too, leaving you off to find the one you wanted to see do desperately.
You walked, the building was so silent that you could hear your own footsteps, sand fell off your shoes as you walked, leaving a trail. A smile played on your lips as you walked throught the halls, checking every door, seeing your people. You asked them, ¨wheres paul?¨ in return they smiled, ¨not so sure. I dont even know where his room is at. Maybe check the throne room. Honestly, i havent seen him in a long time, y/n¨ and you did, no one was there. You furrowed your eyebrows and continued to look through the rooms, paul just wasnt there. Your happiness sooned turn into sadness and insecurity. Tears were on the edge of brimming your eyes. You exiteded the castle and sat down, leaning against the wall. You held your knees up to your chest and put your head on your forearms.
Where is he? Wheres chani? This is his place he cant be impossible to find, can he? Why cant i find him? Wheres his wife? All these thoughts coursed through your head as you waited, you ended up falling asleep, outside.
¨y/n?¨ you heard. Your neck had a crane as you looked up. ¨y/n!¨ it was a voice you recognized, ¨why are you outside?¨ they laughed, you finally looked up after rubbing your eyes and it was stilgar. ¨stilgar!¨ you yelled, he came down to your level and hugged you. He laughed ¨look at you, all dirty¨ he wiped your face. ¨wheres paul?¨ you questioned, his smile dropped and his eyebrows furrowed. This took you aback, ¨wheres paul? I was gonna ask you that¨ he mutters, wiping the dirt off of your cheek. You dropped his hand and looked at him with desperate eyes, ¨what-what do you mean?¨ you asked, desperate for an answer. ¨paul left 2 years ago, y/n. He said when he came back, he would come back with you¨” stilgar looks down as he reveals, you stood, paced, questioned. ¨he said he would wait for me- i….i dont understand! Stilgar¨ you let out a whine, trying to fight the tears. ¨where is he? Stilgar please, please!¨ you begged, dropping to your knees. Stilgar couldnt muster to come up with anything to say. In honesty, he mightve been more sad than you. The messiah is gone, lost. No where to be found. How could he find him? Where could he possibly be? Two years. Two. this was like heartbreak all over again. Before, you knew he was alive, but now. You know nothing. Should you go back? Is he still searching for you?
252 notes · View notes
rookiesbookies · 2 months
Text
Gaz and his Loser as the next part of my Sex Doll AU. This was much asked for and edited by my lovely mutual @shotmrmiller
Gaz’s story of getting bought goes much like all the others. His loser saw an ad on a social media app. She clicked it accidentally and it took her to the sleazy website. He cost a pretty penny but she had the extra cash to spare, so she figured why not. As the girl's cursor hovered over his image on the screen she went ahead and clicked buy.
His arrival was clunky. Getting him through the door was annoying, but he definitely could have been more difficult. She had waited to open him until a special day when she felt she could use the companionship. She did her best to understand the instructions of the manual, which was in some unknown or gargled print of a language she couldn’t recognize.
Gaz awoke with a start, the memories of his previous owner fading away as if it had never happened. Just a flash.
He looked around the unfamiliar room, taking in his new surroundings. It was dimly lit, with plush furniture and expensive decor. He could hear soft music playing in the background.
And then he saw her.
She was standing by the door, looking at him with a curious expression on her face. She was beautiful, everything he could have craved.
His eyes roamed over the silky fabric that hugged her curves, a delicate lingerie in a seductive shade of pink-red. The sight made his breath hitch, and he found himself struggling to keep it steady as he took in every inch of her exposed skin. He could feel his pulse quicken at the mere sight of her, and all he could do was let out a heavy exhale as desire coursed through him.
She seemed nervous under his gaze, his eyes didn't hold scrutiny but she didn't know what to expect... He finally registered how exposed she was. Crotchless panties and a heart shape. Valentine's Day. His poor loser is single on Valentine's Day.
"All ready for me, love?" He teased breathlessly. "Come on, don't be embarrassed."
There was something about him that felt more human, more empathetic. He felt like more than just a sex toy, definitely more than whatever he was marketed as. She could tell he was probably worth more than whatever she paid for him.
"Well, I may not be your ideal Valentine's date but I promise to make it special for you."
She almost couldn't form words as he grew closer, speaking into her lips, "Tell me what you want."
She responded eagerly, leaning to kiss him.
Their lips met in a fervent dance of desire, a tangle of tongues and teeth as they each sought to consume the other. Her hands roamed his body, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt, while he cupped her face gently as if she were the most delicate thing in the world. The air between them crackled with anticipation, charged with an undeniable electricity that sent shivers down her spine.
As their kiss deepened, he slowly began to trail kisses down her neck, his warm breath sending tingles across her skin. She tilted her head back in silent invitation, giving him better access to the curve of her throat. With each feather-light touch of his lips, she let out a soft sigh of pleasure, her body responding instinctively to his every move.
He moved lower still, his lips leaving a trail of fire along her collarbone and down to the swell of her breasts. He continued to move down her body and to her crotchless panties, smiling greedily as he dove in.
She was now completely at his mercy, and she relished in the feeling, knowing that he would take her to heights of pleasure she had only dreamed of.
Finally, he reached her crotchless panties and smiled greedily as he dove in. His tongue flicked against her clit, sending waves of electric pleasure through her body. She let out a moan as his skilled tongue continued its exploration, teasing and taunting her until she was writhing beneath him.
His fingers were long and slender, gliding in and out of her with ease. They glistened with her arousal, moving in a steady rhythm that mirrored the rise and fall of her chest.
Her body writhed beneath him, her skin flushed and glistening in the dim light of the room, growing slicker as it went on. His fingers disappeared between her thighs, moving in a quick and skilled rhythm. Pleasure flooded her senses, her mouth watering with the taste of him on her lips.
Her skin flushed pink as he stroked her clit, his fingers moving in a skilled dance. She arched her back and her breasts rose and fell with each desperate breath. His focused gaze on her body showed a burning desire, mirroring her own.
Her mouth went dry as he found her sweet spot, dragging his tongue along her folds and tasting her arousal as his fingers wiggled within. She could taste the salt of her skin on his lips, making her crave more of his touch.
The scent of sex filled the air, a heady mixture of sweat and desire that made her pulse race even faster. As she grew closer to climax, the scent intensified, making his desire for her nearly uncontrollable.
Her moans filled the room, growing louder and more desperate with each moment. The sound of their breathing and the slick movements of his fingers echoed off the walls, heightening the intensity of their passionate encounter.
Just as she was about to reach the peak of pleasure, he suddenly removed himself from between her legs. She let out a whimper of protest, her body craving his touch.
But he had something else in mind. He stripped off his clothes completely, revealing his toned and muscular body to her hungry gaze.
She caught her breath at the sight of him, feeling a rush of desire pulse through her veins. Without any hesitation, he dove back in between her thighs, his mouth hungrily finding hers as he inserted himself between her slick folds.
She let out a gasp at the sudden feeling of fullness, pleasure shooting through every nerve in her body. His spit added an extra layer of slickness and heat as he thrust into her with a steady rhythm. He folded one of her legs up over his shoulder, wrapping around his waist as he began to move after her breathing leveled out.
Their bodies moved together in perfect synchronization, their breathing growing ragged and heavy as they both chased after their own release.
Her mind couldn't wrap around the sex. It felt like he was fitted perfectly to serve the master that is her body. He fit perfectly, like the missing piece to her puzzle.
Her nails dug into his shoulders as she arched into him, lost in the intense pleasure coursing through her veins. The only sounds that filled the room were their moans and gasps for air, mingling together in a symphony of passion.
As they both reached the peak of ecstasy together, their bodies tensed and shuddered in sort of unison. Like his was triggered by her body's release at a deeper level beyond just good sex. An intense wave of pleasure washed over them both, leaving them both breathless and satisfied.
They collapsed onto the floor in a tangle of limbs and sweaty skin, their hearts still racing from the intensity of their encounter.
He pulled her close to him, kissing away any lingering doubts or fears that may have been within her mind.
Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, check out my AU list for more like this. Don’t forget to leave me a comment (i always try to respond) or a request in my inbox (i also try to respond to these when I can), a reblog, or even just a like to let me know what yall want to see!
181 notes · View notes
greeenchrysanthemums · 4 months
Note
I’d love to hear anything you’ve got about Pearl from your gg rivals au! Super interesting concept, I’ve been loving the asks you’ve answered so far
Oh, yes! I've been dying to talk about Pearl. She is extremely important to the plot, as well as a favorite of mine.
GG Pearl is a mercenary of sorts. She does whatever you ask of her for the right price, including murder if it is within her skill range. However, most of her jobs include acting as a bodyguard, helping repair buildings, spying for information, things to that affect. It is rare that she has to take a life, but not unheard of.
She never had much of a family growing up, having lost them to war and disease before the memory of their faces could even form properly in her mind. The only lifelong companion she ever had was her dog, Tilly. It was her and Tilly against the world for the longest time.
She is one of very few people who knew Grian when he was a kid. They clicked immediately and were as thick as thieves before he abruptly disappeared when they were barely teenagers, and she was left alone all over again. She only met him again once the resistance was in full swing. It was how she learned he was even still alive, the descriptions of him were too similar to be a coincidence.
She wanted nothing more than to be bitter at him for leaving her without an explanation, to blow up at him and make him feel as hurt as she had been all those years ago, but the second he offered her a place in the resistance, she caved and agreed. She just didn't want to be alone anymore.
She occasionally skips town for the odd job or another, so she isn't always around. She comes and goes as she pleases and has no real position in the resistance. She just helps where she can. She can't help but feel like an outsider because of it.
Now, you see, Pearl is very curious and nosey by nature. She can't help getting herself involved in things that do not concern her. So, naturally, she had to go see what the deal was with her friends so called "rival".
And how did she do this? By breaking into the castle, of course. Well, not all the way in. She planted herself right on the wall of the training grounds and waited. Gem tried to attack her at first, but Pearl said she just wanted to watch and that made her hesitate. Gem was skeptical and warry, but somehow Pearl's innocent smile was enough to make her let her stay. And so, stay and watch Pearl did.
Her little break-in only served to make her more curious, though, so Pearl showed up every day at the same time to watch Gem train. It became part of both of their routines. Soon, they began to talk during these afternoons together and formed a quick friendship. Pearl never told Gem much about herself, only the odd story from her travels/childhood, and Gem never pried.
Pearl never intended to befriend Gem, it just sort of happened. Now she is stuck between two worlds, unsure of what to do. She loves Gem, thinks of her as her best friend, but she's loyal to Grian on grounds of their history together. She tries to tell herself that it's just curiosity that keeps her going back to that stone wall, but it's a flimsy lie at best.
Grian thinks she only goes to Gem to get information. Impulse and Scott think she is just a girl from town who Gem befriended (though Scott has the sinking feeling he's seen her before...).
Pearl isn't sure how long she can keep up either of the facades she has built up: an uncaring informant, and a harmless town girl. Neither of them are who Pearl is, but she's afraid that letting either one go would result in her losing either Grian or Gem. She couldn't handle either of those, no matter how much she tries to tell herself she could.
247 notes · View notes
01zfan · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
understanding my faith pt. 4 | l. at
church boy!anton x fem. reader | 3.3k words
HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANTON! this is a compilation of a few requests and some other things i got in my inbox heh. also looked it up out of curiosity and anton actually was born on a sunday LMFAO?
contains: religious imagery and metaphors
umf: part one | part two | part three | part four
Tumblr media
anton was born on a sunday. it was the first warm day of the season, marking the unofficial start of spring. anton heard the stories of the sun breaking through the storm clouds in the middle of the sermon. the congregation watched in silence as the beam of light casted through the stained glass to shine on the podium. it was then, as if lit on fire by the light that his mother began wailing. despite having a swollen stomach underneath unnecessary layers of clothes she still attended church passionately. 
she got up from the pew and stumbled towards the exit, hand on her stomach while groaning in pain. many rushed to her aide but the beam of light was faster. it shined on her back, and when it disappeared behind another cluster of clouds a screaming baby was left in its place. anton was birthed in the aisle between two rows of pews while his mother was surrounded by confused parishioners. 
if anton’s mom was treated like the virgin mary then anton was baby christ. he was too young to remember the offerings he received en masse. envelopes full of cash were slipped into his carseat and everyone constantly offered to hold him. anton had fleeting memories of people coming to him when he could first form full sentences, asking for guidance or for his well wishes. that was when he was still mischievous—prayers came with the small price of chocolate or banana milk.
every year when anton’s birthday came around, his church celebrated . when anton was younger he believed his congregation was celebrating him. but there was no cake, only food that received blessings from the bible. none of his friends were there, only people from his flock. he wasn’t at the arcade where he wanted to be, instead surrounded by trees and log cabins. anton received no gift he truly wanted. when he wanted the newest action figure he only got lessons on how to fish and forage for food. 
by the time he was fifteen, anton dreaded seeing his birthdate on the calendar. a whole weekend gone every year, lost in the woods on an unnecessary church retreat. over time, anton started filling in the gaps of the story he heard through the grapevine. the story was beautiful and meant alot to the church, but he could tell their were aspects of the sotry that didn’t fit the narrative. his mother would grimace and shake her head anytime anton tried to dig deeper. there was still a red stain in the carpet of the nave, where it seeped through and painted the wood crimson. anton imagined his mother’s frightened face—he’s now the same age she was when she gave birth for her entire world to see.
the more gaps in the story that were filled the more anton felt sympathy for his mother. he was always a dutiful son and loyal member to the church. he never complained about having to go into the woods during his birthday weekend. but when he realized what it took from his mother every year he started making the effort to vocalize how grateful he was. he was the first one to offer up his skills in fishing and led prayer. he listened to the prayers of people who still remembered that anton was a gift from god. 
anton was twenty now and this trip was different. he was truly grateful beaming like the same light that shined down on his mother. he was grateful because he got to break bread with you, even if you sat on the opposite end of the table. he stole glances at you over the plates of fish and fruit, and raised the blood of christ in your direction. the fear of being caught again should’ve taught you two a lesson. a random face in the crowd whispered to anton after the night in the parking lot, saying that she knew what had happened. 
“cursed for the same fate like your mother.” she sneered.
the blood drained from anton’s face when hearing her words. you were there behind him, backing his voice the same way you did when performing for the church. you came to his defense, puffing your chest and shaking your head.
denial fell from your lips quickly, and anton blindly corroborated. your words were confident but anton could see the tremor in your hands and the way your pupils shook. you were both lucky that the woman was silenced, saying something along the lines that she will be held in the good graces of anton’s parents from now on. 
a week had passed and you two haven’t let yourselves be in the same room together since. it was a test for the both of you, about temptation and if the chance of getting caught was worth it. anton learned that he didn’t care, and that you cared even less. 
there were short moments in the days leading up to the retreat. anton following you as you passed him in the hallway, slipping notes when you would join hands to sing hymns. anton barely got the chance to touch you anymore and it had an effect on him. anton would usually be able to hold his wants at bay, but lack of contact made him desperate. a simple look from you sat at the forefront of his mind. he spent the rest of the day finding your name in hymns and the separate letters that spelled your name in the bible. 
he would never tell you, but at his lowest he went into the confessional booth alone and thought of you. in the darkness of the booth he could see the last night you spent together. in the shadows he was able to project the image of his car windows fogging and the way it rocked back and forth. when anton remembered your clammy hand pressed on his broad chest he couldn’t stop his own hand. he touched himself in the cramped space of the booth. his knees pressed to the wooden walls, with so much force that they creaked. the sound drowned out his grunts and the wet sound of him fucking his hand. he imagine you on your knees in front of him in prayer when he made a mess over his knuckles and slacks. he slumped in the booth, looking through the small holes trying to come to terms with what he had done. anton was able to rationalize his actions—it was easy to ask for forgiveness when he was already here.
“forgive me father for i have sinned.” anton said quietly to himself.
he had gotten too used to saying that phrase. he had to say it nearly every night leading up to the trip. he couldn’t keep his hands off himself when he thought of you. the problem only compounded while being here. he was alone in his cabin, the one single gift he got for his birthday. while he was alone, he got the chance to do anything he wanted. he spent that time thinking of you, and what he would do to you when you got the chance to finally be together again.
anton laid on his duvet in only his boxers. he stared at the fan above him, how it did slow revolutions. anton barely felt air circulating in the room even though the room felt like it was closing in on him. trying to control his breath didn’t work, the harder he tried the more desperate he became. he could almost hear your breathy moans as he pinched the fabric of his boxers in his hand. he unnecessarily teased himself the whole trip. he had worked himself up the whole trip as some sort of punishment. anton only had to touch his thigh lightly to have his dick twitching in his underwear. the tent in his pants obstructed his vision when he looked down, and if he stared at it for too long he would twitch again.
anton had almost given in when he heard a rock tap on his window. he was so inside of his mind that he didn’t hear what was going on around him. he could only hear your voice and see your face. he imagined you crawling up his body, your weight causing craters in the mattress that caused his body to lean. anton could barely move in this position, only breathe heavily as the vision of your face got closer and closer to his. when your lips ghosted over his the sound of a tiny pebble was heard again. 
anton shot up in his bed, pulled from his trance. he could feel the precum seeping through the cotton of his underwear and his body already felt weak. he had half a mind when the tiny sound filled his room again. his head found the sound, and he grabbed a folded blanket off his bed to hide his weakness for you as he got off the bed. 
timid steps took him to his cabin window, and he could see you on the other side of the glass. the blanket was forgotten on the ground as anton lifted his window. anton didn’t hesitate to take out the screen of the window so he could fully lean part of his body out. he should’ve looked from side to side quickly to check that you weren’t followed, but he only saw you.
“what are you doing here?” anton whispered.
you smiled before walking closer to his window.
“it’s your birthday.” you said simply.
anton nodded, still looking at you. you got on your tiptoes, and anton leaned so far down that your foreheads touched.
“can i come inside?” you asked. 
any part of anton that would’ve denied had left him a long time ago. all that was left was you in his mind, and how you looked up at him from your position outside. he nodded and reached his hands out to grab yours. when your hold on his hands was tight enough he used a portion of his strength to help you through the open space in his window.
you didn’t need his help. you cleared most of the way, but you couldn’t stop yourself from stumbling trying to regain your balance. anton held you close, stumbling with you until you both steadied. he had your arms pressed to your chest, constricting you in a way that left you looking up to him helplessly. anton could tell you felt all of him when your eyes widened and your nails dug into your palm. you took a glance down. past the place where your two bodies touched antons hard dick pressed into your torso.
“did you miss me?” you asked.
“breaking bread with you wasn’t enough.” anton said quietly.
“are you giving into temptation?” you ask, tilting your head.
your words are playful as your eyes drift to anton’s lips. he is serious when he speaks, pulling you closer into him. 
“can you feel it?” anton whispers.
you nod your head, and quickly peer behind anton to find the bed. the walk back to the bed is slow. neither of you kiss, only breathe in heavily as you find your footing. 
by the time you both find it there’s no use. the back of anton’s legs hit the soft edges of his mattress, causing him to fall backwards. you stay upright, and your eyes stay on the tent still in anton’s pants. he lets you feast on him as he backs up further on the bed, until he can lay his full body down comfortably. 
anton watches you get undressed at the foot of his bed. you take off each article of clothing slowly, your pants pool at your ankles and you toss your shirt to anton. he grabs it and brings it to his face, breathing in all he can take. you watch mesmerized on the other end, mouth agape when he thrusts upwards into nothing. anton’s cheeks turn rosy but he is not embarrassed. he continues to let his hips jerk and his dick twitch. you both break bread for the second time that night, feeding off eachother’s reactions.
when you can’t take it anymore, you crawl onto the bed. the same way in anton’s visions, a grueling slow pace where your body is almost touching his. anton forces himself to be still. not only does he have to be ready to take whatever you give him, but he is also afraid if he moves too much the cliff he’s balancing on will disappear underneath his feet. so he stays still as your eyes travel from the tent in his pants to  the hair on his head.
you were on your knees beside anton’s body, leaned over until your clothed chest touched his. anton felt one of your hands start at his knuckles, freeing his hand from the hold it had on his boxers. you place his palms facing upright. anton slightly shook his head—he was not strong enough to be so vulnerable in his sensitive state underneath you. you nodded your head and pressed your wet lips to his ear.
“i will never leave you nor forsake you.” you whispered.
anton took a deep breath, swallowing his pride and kept his palms facing towards the ceiling.
“you are blessed.” you said underneath your breath.
this is when anton nods in agreement. the way you touch his palm and drag your hand up his arm makes anton think he is favored by something bigger than himself. when your hand glides across his collarbones and up his neck anton’s hand snaps to grab you at your elbow. the sudden movement causes you to pause, and you look down at him. anton’s eyes feel wet as he looks up at you. his dick twitches and he can feel it getting even harder. the tent in his pants moves as his heavy dick slaps against his stomach. the thought of you touching him fills his mind, so much that anton has the urge to flip you over.
“it’s been so long.” anton chokes out. 
you nod and grab his hand that rests on the bed. you look down between your two bodies, looking past his dick that weeps for your attention to find his hand. you lift it slowly, until anton’s palm cups your heat. you sigh heavily and he indulges himself for a second, pressing a finger to your panties to feel the wet spot. you close your eyes briefly and press your forehead against anton’s.
“i waited for you for years, so why do i feel like this after a week?” you ask.
anton can’t bring himself to mention sin at a time like this. he had built an understanding that sin was just a reworked virtue. lust was a product of his never ending love and his need to please you. it was a gift to be with you, and lust helped him explore aspects of your union in the private spaces you two created. so anton lets of a breath and guides your hand to his heavy dick. it twitches upwards, looking for your warmth before you can even touch him. when you grab his length with conviction over the fabric of his boxers anton thrusts into your fist. his free hand guides one of your legs over his body. once you straddle him you let your body rest into him fully. you pull your hand away from his dick to replace it with your clothed heat.
“you can feel all of me soon.” you say quickly.
“i can’t wait any longer.” anton whimpers.
anton’s hand was still selfishly placed on your center. he worked his way up, until it was just a singular finger pressing slightly into your clit. all of his restraint went into not rubbing revolutions on the sensitive bundle of nerves. but anton knew you well enough to know that giving you a inch made you take a mile. he knew that you would be trying your best to chance after the dull sensation of a finger pressed to your clit that it would drive you to rut your hips into his. 
anton responded just as desperate, chasing the feeling of his stiff dick having nowhere to go. he wanted to feel you wrapped around him while he got lost in the halls of your labyrinth. but anton didn’t want to stop seeing your chest jump in the confines of your bra while you pressed your hips into his with a reckless abandon.
“i’ll make this your best birthday.” you gasp.
your breathing started to become heavy and anton was reduced to actions. he nodded, showing you how grateful he was for you but moved a hand to your ass to press you on his dick. he needed more so much more that he would bare the burden to cum in his pants like he had never been touch before. all he needed you to do was keep swiveling your hips and place wet kisses on his face.
anton was thankful you knew what he needed. the way you always took care of him made a stone form in his throat. when you kissed his jawline anton couldn’t hold back.
“i’m sorry. i can’t wait any longer.” he whimpered.
you only continued moving your hips the same way, feeling your slick and anton’s precum mix on the fabric of your underwear. 
“don’t be sorry.” you said clearly.
you kissed his forehead and pulled him up, so you guys were both sitting upwards on the bed. the position change confused anton, but you started leading him. you alternated between bounding and grinding on his dick, and anton’s hands on your side helped you with how much pressure he needed. anton’s held tilted back, and he focused on the fans slow moving blades. your quiet moans were gentle like the air circulating in his room, and the gentle bed creaks put anton in a trance.
your hand on his face brought anton back to reality. he had you on top of him, and your eyebrows were knit the same way they were when you were trying to read latin. your mouth opened and anton took it as an invitation to place his lips on yours.
he could only slip his tongue into your mouth for a second before he felt the coil in the pit of his stomach wind again. he pulled away from you as it twisted all around his body, and he pulled you in when it snapped. anton felt his heavy dick strain against the fabric as he whimpered into the crook of your neck. you moaned while still riding him, and a pulling hand in anton’s hair prolonged the feeling across his body.
“i love you.” anton muttered over and over again.
“i love you too.” you mumbled back.
you followed shortly after him, pulling away so you could rest your hands on anton’s calves. he watched your abs flex as you continued to swivel your hips. all anton had to do was press that same finger to your clit to make you freeze. the wet spot on your panties from anton’s cum became darker as your legs shook around him. your eyes screwed shut and you instinctually turned your head away from anton to bite down on your shoulder. it kept you quiet enough to avoid the walls that had ears. 
“my angel.” anton cooed.
you could only whine in response, and shake your head when anton teased you over your underwear. you pushed him back onto the bed, and you let all of your body weight rest on anton’s chest. you could feel his dick soften between your two bodies. when the cold wetness of your underwear made you shift, anton kept you pressed to his chest with a strong arm on your back.
anton laid with you until sunday came. both of you were so tired, so spent from time apart that you laid together in silence. you both watched to fan slowly rotate in the darkness until it was illuminated in the morning light. you left, this time through the front door and after kissing anton for every year he’s blessed the earth. 
158 notes · View notes
cirilla-fiona-riannon · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
The Day We Learned to Argue ~Part 1~
This is simply a fan translation and is not intended as a replacement for the game. Expect grammatical errors.
This is just a rough translation.
Tumblr media
One sunny afternoon, away from the bustling city, two men with strikingly similar eyes crossed paths.
Rio & Silvio: "Ah."
They both murmured and grimaced simultaneously.
Rio: "......."
Tumblr media
Silvio: "Why are you here?"
Rio: "It's none of your business! Ow, ow, ow! Let go!"
Rio: "Fine, I'll talk, just let me go!"
Rio: "Lately, the kids have been spreading a rumor that a monster haunts this place."
Rio: "I had a bad feeling after hearing that, so I came to check the situation."
Rio: "It's close to Emma's walking path, so I wouldn't want her to be in danger."
Silvio furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he gazed at Rio, who smiled happily at the memory of his master.
Silvio: "........."
Rio: "What's with that face? Kids have this incredible knack for sniffing sketchy places, you know?"
Rio: "Even if the rumors seem far-fetched, there could be unexpected incidents hidden behind them."
Silvio: "Did you remember一"
Rio: "Are you curious, by any chance?"
Rio: "My master, who is popular with people of all ages, heard a story before."
Rio: "The Great Fairy Incident: The Story of a Beautiful and Miracleous Encounter between an Unexpected Fairy and一"**
Silvio: "Shut up. If you don't shut your mouth right now, I'll shove those mushrooms growing over there in your mouth."
Rio: "That's a poisonous mushroom. Are you trying to kill me!?"
Rio: "Anyway, why are you here? I told you my story, so tell me yours."
Silvio: "Hah! I heard a rumor about a giant monster that likes jewels."
Tumblr media
Rio: "So you're the same as me, huh?"
As Rio mumbled and Silvio smirked, a rustling sound echoed, and then several rough-looking men emerged from the bushes.
Silvio: "Looks like your bad feeling was right."
Rio: "Seems like it."
Rio: "But with this, I can keep Emma out of danger. I can handle them easily."
Silvio: "........."
Rio: "What's wrong?"
Silvio: "I was just thinking of testing your skills."
Rio: "Sure, go ahead. Watch, and I'll finish this quickly."
A man with a lewd grin drew his sword, and at the same time, Rio pulled out a knife from his pocket.
Silvio: "Watching from the sidelines doesn't suit me. I'll help you, so be grateful."
Silvio also drew his sword, pointing it at the men.
The men momentarily faltered in the face of the duo's determination. However, they quickly remembered their advantage and regained their composure, launching an attack.
Easily dodging the simple and uncoordinated attacks, Silvio and Rio found themselves back-to-back, effortlessly fending off their opponents.
Rio: "They outnumber us, but this is a piece of cake."
Silvio: "I agree. I don't feel like losing."
Silvio: "This time, it's easier since you're not dragging me down."
Tumblr media
Rio: "What do you mean, 'this time'?"
Silvio: "Nothing."
------------Flashback-----------
When the two were still children, under the dazzling sunlight on the shores of the Benitoite sea一
Valerio & Silvio: "Ah."
Valerio: "........."
Silvio: "What are you doing here?"
Valerio: "It's none of your business."
Silvio: "Shut up. Talk, or I'll stuff this shellfish in your mouth!"
Valerio: "Ugh, it definitely looks poisonous. If I eat it, I'll die."
Silvio: "If you don't wanna die, then say it already."
Valerio: "I heard there's a monster here, so I came to check it out."
Tumblr media
Valerio: "That rumor has been going around among the local kids."
Valerio: "One of the noble kids heard it from a servant's child and told me secretly."
Valerio: "What about you, big brother?"
Silvio: "I'm here for an inspection."
Tumblr media
Part 1 ╎ Part 2 ╎ Part 3 ╎ Part 4
258 notes · View notes
Text
Why We Never See Elendira's Story
In a story that emphasizes the human or otherwise sympathetic aspects to its focal characters, it’s very intriguing that Elendira remains an enigma right up until the very end of her story.
We receive some tantalizing hints that there is much, much more to Elendira than what we’re explicitly shown – asides from her apparent sole interest in witnessing the end of the world (to which she'd prefer to see Knives' chosen ending, but is prepared to act herself if he fails), she looks somewhat resigned when saying that nice men “die so easily”, that no matter what Vash does, humans will “ruin it”, and so on and so forth.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
[ID: Two screenshots from Trigun Maximum Volume 11. In the first, over a rocky ground, Elendira says "I liked you better when you had nothing to lose. What a shame." She looks down, somewhat resigned, and continues "I don't like nice men. They die so easily." In the second, she stands, frowning and saying "No matter what Vash the Stampede does... there will always be those..." On a close up of her right eye, she says "...who ruin it." End ID.]
Elendira seems to have little to no faith in humanity, and in that sense, she seems a lot like Knives. Knives, who aims to become more and more powerful, and in the process, severing all meaningful ties he has with others on his quest to ensure no one can take advantage of him or use him. We know, of course, that Knives doesn't quite succeed here... but Elendira has. She is the peak of human (or part human? We never get an answer to her unexplained abilities) capability in speed, skill, and strength. The only reason Livio stood any chance in that fight was due to his incredible regeneration.
(As an interesting aside, she also has an interesting commonality with Vash - what comes to mind is her telling the kids to bury Livio because he "died" trying to protect them. Why does she care about that? Why does it matter? None of the other GHGs do this. This is not important to the point I'm making here but it's just interesting to me. There's very few characters who explicitly make a point of burying the dead.)
The point being, Elendira is the height of strength... and at the top, she is alone.
Tumblr media
[ID: A panel from Trigun Maximum Volume 13. Elendira is in the action of dropping her white coat, which she has taken off to reveal an underarmour suit that is almost skeletal in appearance. She looks confident. End ID.]
In a story where characters' motives and pasts are told through their connections with others, through their memories with people they cared for, and through the eyes of the people who care for them...
Vash's story is eventually told in pieces to humanity through Meryl, through Luida, and through his sisters. Rem survives in Vash's memories, and we see the part of her story that young Vash saw, just as we also see his own past from this recollection of her.
Milly is a clarifier and communicator who sees so strongly the sides of Meryl and Vash that they suppress, all that grief and fear, for the sake of remaining steadfast. She is the one whose eyes we see through. It had to be seen to be told. Wolfwood does this too.
The rest of GHGs get some elaboration also. Hoppered is defined through his loss of the woman he cared for in July. Midvalley is defined by his fear and contention with Knives. They also have a dynamic between them that few of the other GHGs shared - and it's likely for this reason we received more elaboration on the two of them than many of the others. But even characters like Rai-Dei, for whom we don't get very much at all, has at least his sunk-cost fallacy explained through the memories of the people he's killed to get to that point.
Chronica's story, though largely removed from the people of No Man's Land, is given definition and stakes through the loss of Domina, and we are told about her incredible determination and strategy she has through her reputation with the Earth fleet.
Legato, desperate to play a singularly important role in Knives' story, tells his own through that lens and that lens only. The moment his life changed was the moment Knives entered it, and that is likely the most important memory to him - Knives is the only meaningful bond he has (sadly for him, this was not reciprocated). Well, an argument can be made for the contentious dynamic he builds with Vash too.
Even Knives, for all that he tried to separate himself from others, is known and seen through his connection with Vash - and his acceptance and unwillingness to fully lose this connection is not only what eventually saves him, but also the reason we, as the audience, know his story so well.
We see characters' stories in Trigun mainly through the bonds they share with others - never the whole story, but the sides that others knew of them.
So, who does Elendira have? Every interaction she has is shallow, dismissive, and exceedingly temporary. Through her dislike of Legato, we get that she may be somewhat bitter about his important status to Knives... but there is no elaboration, because it goes no further than that. Knives calls her directly on the phone, and she is very invested in his vision for the end of the world and intrigued by him... but it goes no further than that. He does not really seem to care about her beyond her effectiveness, and she does not offer any information about herself. Even her allegiance is kind of flimsy. She's only there because she wants to be.
During their final fight, Wolfwood lives on through Livio, through his actions and resolve. It is the teamwork between him and Razlo, in the spirit of Wolfwood, that eventually overpowers Elendira. Amusingly (at least to me), Livio is quite literally never alone, because he always has Razlo - and now, Wolfwood too.
"Yer too strong... and that's why yer gonna lose."
Tumblr media
[ID: A screenshot from Trigun Maximum Volume 13. Livio narrates over a shot of his eye, Razlo's eye, and finally, his whole face, with Wolfwood's final vial of serum between his teeth. "...to me... to Razlo... and to him." End ID.]
Elendira has succeeded in separating herself from everyone – she is the most powerful of the GHG, and every battle with her is basically one-sided – but she’s alone, and that’s not only why she loses… it’s also why we never get to know her in any meaningful way.
Because no one knows her. She has no personal connection with anyone. Her motivations never get any clarity. We don’t even know who did her modifications or how she gained her power. Even if she did have someone she cared for in the past, she apparently does not hold onto their memory. And maybe that's the reason she told the kids to bury Livio - not out of respect, but because to her, that is where the past belongs - dead and buried, soon to be joined by the rest of the world and humanity as it all comes to an end.
We never see Elendira’s story… because there is no one from whose eyes we can see it in any capacity.
354 notes · View notes
mysafehaneul · 6 months
Text
VII. AQUAMARINE (M)
CHAPTER 7: DIFFERENT PATHS SAME DESTINATION
JEON WONWOO X READER
WORDS: 11k+
GENRE: ARRANGE CONTRACT MARRIAGE AU! ENEMIES TO LOVERS!
ANGST, SMUT, FLUFF.
Tumblr media
Most of our lives are spent in the search of a meaning, a purpose and often we end up looking for it in the wrong places and forget the fact that it was not about the destination, rather the journey and the people we meet along the way. Because we don’t have small lives, we just start living it a bit late. 
The corridor on the mansion's second floor was a gallery of ornate antique decorations and vases, each with its own story to tell. As Y/N walked through this elegant hallway, Noel was out fishing with the Jeon men and Joon-hee's daughter, enjoying a day of outdoor activities.
The corridor featured high pane windows framed by heavy curtains, ornate walls, and a large portrait of the Jeon family. The portrait depicted Wonwoo's grandparents sitting on a comfortable couch, with their children standing proudly behind them. It was a beautiful representation of a bygone era, and Y/N couldn't help but appreciate the timeless family bond it portrayed. Wonwoo's father stood behind his father, and his aunt stood in the middle, with one hand on her father's shoulder and the other on her mother's. On the other side, Wonwoo's uncle was grinning, with his eyes meeting his father's. The family resemblance was striking, particularly in the similarities between Jungkook and his father.
Y/N's gaze settled on the hands of Wonwoo's grandmother, and she noticed that the elderly lady wore the same ring that now adorned her own finger. It was a connection between generations.
"That's my mother-in-law" Y/N heard a voice behind her making her jump slightly, she turned around to see her mother-in-law standing just a few steps away, her gaze focused on the family portrait.
Sunmi continued with a smile, "Out of her collection, she cherished that ring the most." Her eyes shifted to Y/N's hands, which held the same ring.
Y/N commented, "I see, it is a pretty ring."
Sunmi looked back at the portrait and reflected, "I think more than the beauty, it's the history of the ring that held more significance."
With a turn to face Y/N, she added, "When Wonwoo's grandfather was just 11, his father sent him to her house." Sunmi nodded toward the image of Wonwoo's grandmother. "They were the family of one of the most remarkable goldsmiths of that time. Your grandparents might have known them."
Y/N replied, "They passed away when I was young."
Sunmi expressed her condolences before continuing with the story. "He used to work under her father as an errand boy then as an accountant to support his family. His own father was a loan shark who valued money more than feeding his wife and children." Sunmi's voice carried a mix of sadness and understanding. "Her father held him in high regard, perhaps because he recognized his potential. When my mother-in-law was 16, she fell in love with a local thug and ran away from home when her father found out. But, unfortunately—or fortunately, as life would have it—that thug never showed up at their decided meeting spot."
Sunmi went on, "Omonie's father was highly respected in his community. To save face and preserve their family's reputation, he decided to marry his only daughter to Wonwoo's grandfather and sent them here."
As the story unfolded, Y/N learned about the rich history of the ring she now wore. Sunmi revealed, "Abeonim hated making jewelry, but he was sadly skilled at it. This ring is the first and last piece he designed and made, created solely for his wife. He gave it to her as a symbol of his love, after confessing his feelings to her, of course." Sunmi chuckled softly, her eyes reflecting fond memories.
With a deep breath, Sunmi summed up the heartwarming tale, "She wore it until her deathbed, and much to the dismay of few people, she passed it down to Wonwoo. Funny how sometimes the things we consider as misfortune turn out to be blessings in disguise."
The conversation continued as they made their way toward the grand staircase, and the gentle sunlight filtered through the mansion's windows, casting intricate patterns on the polished floor.
Sunmi began, "It wasn't until their 30th wedding anniversary that Abeonim told me why that guy couldn't make it; he was busy getting a beating from him."
Y/N chuckled, "You were quite close to them, weren't you?"
Sunmi confessed, "Not initially, but Wooshik was very close to his parents. After my first miscarriage, our family doctor suggested I be around people, and we moved in with them. Some days were more disagreeable then previous one’s but she thought me that ties made out of love can be stronger than of blood if we are ready to bend our knees and let Love take precedence over pride."
They had strolled out of the mansion without realizing it and were now heading towards the greenhouse. The air was filled with the sweet fragrance of various-colored iris flowers. These irises painted a mesmerizing display with deep purples and pale blues, their colors dancing under the gentle sunlight. Birds chirped cheerfully, and a pleasant breeze rustled the leaves of nearby trees.
Sunmi, her eyes filled with memories, noted, "These are her favorite flowers." She reached out to touch a petal, gently caressing it. "She and Abeonim planted them together."
Sunmi extended her hand to touch a petal of the iris, gently caressing it. As she spoke, her eyes held a mist, like she was transported back in time. "I used to ask her how she knew that she loved him," she began, her voice filled with nostalgia. "She said, Wooshik's father is not a man of many words, but when you look at him closely, you can see his love and consideration woven into every action. Empty promises may sound sweet to the ears, but it's the actions that truly win the heart."
Y/N listened intently, her gaze lowered to the ground. Unbeknownst to her, her thoughts began to drift to the moments she had shared with Wonwoo – him holding her hand in court, refusing to leave her side at dinner until she had finished at least half her meal, sitting next to her on that cramped airplane after their wedding, defending her against Nikolai and even his own parents. These past two months had been a whirlwind, and it felt as though a lifetime of experiences had been crammed into this short time. Y/N found herself questioning when the last time she had genuinely laughed was. When had she last felt like she had someone to lean on when life got heavy?
Her eyebrows furrowed in deep contemplation. As she looked up, still lost in thought, she noticed Wonwoo and Noel approaching, accompanied by Jungkook, who held Somi's hand. They were engaged in a lively conversation and carried fishing equipment. Noel sat on Wonwoo's shoulders, a beaming smile on all their faces.
"Y/N," her voice broke through your musings, "misunderstanding is that poison that can spoil even the strongest roots, especially when you pick up words that are hushed in the corners."
You realized that she knew about the disagreement that had taken place between you and Wonwoo the previous day.
"Why are you telling me all this?" you asked, genuinely curious.
Sunmi gazed at you intently for a few moments and then confessed, "I was quick to misunderstand you, your intentions, and even the origins of Noel. I assumed, to the extent of thinking you were barren, and I even questioned the reasons you married my son. You know, I've had some bitter experiences," she emphasized. "But my son made me realize that sometimes, in order to understand someone, you have to step into their shoes, not just view them through your own lens."
She reached for your hand and gave it a firm squeeze. "My heart goes out to Noel's birth parents and the struggles they must have endured to protect their child from their own family. I am grateful because of you, I am seeing glimpses of the Wonu we lost at 16 after the death of his friend Mingyu. Please forgive me, my darling. I hope we can put the mistakes of the past behind us and make new memories as a family, creating a special place for Noel in both our families and our hearts."
You reciprocated her squeeze, offering a warm smile and nod. However, your mind was racing with questions about what had happened to Wonwoo at 16 and who this mysterious Mingyu was. Underneath the guilt, you couldn't help but wonder how much it would hurt when you and Wonwoo eventually divorced in five years, as per your agreement. The guilt from the conversation with your father-in-law wasn't enough not forgetting the fact the history and rekindling of friendship between him and your mother.
You engaged in a brief conversation, Sunmi updating you on the progress she and your mother made with the upcoming Gala at the end of next month. When, her phone buzzed, signaling that it was time for her medicine and to leave the greenhouse, and you both headed out.
As you emerged from the greenhouse with Sunmi, Wonwoo spotted you and his mother walking together. His brows knitted in confusion at the sight. Sunmi waved goodbye and went in the direction of the pool house, leaving you to continue your journey.
You soon noticed Joon-hee, accompanied by Eleanor, walking together. Joon-hee's daughter, excitedly spotting her, let go of Jungkook's hand and rushed towards her mother, screaming, "Mama!" With a joyful smile, she picked her up in her arms, showering her with kisses.
Meanwhile, Noel, who had been sitting on Wonwoo's shoulders, observed the commotion and excitement. He saw you approaching and couldn't contain his enthusiasm. With a loud, enthusiastic shout, he exclaimed, "Tante!" and waved his little arms energetically. All eyes turned toward you as Noel's excitement drew their attention.
Wonwoo put down his wiggling form, and the little boy immediately darted towards you. You opened your arms, and as he reached you, he threw his little arms around your neck and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.
"Did you have fun?" you asked softly, your fingers gently caressing his back. The warmth of his embrace filled you with joy.
Noel pulled away from your embrace, his face beaming with enthusiasm. "Grandpa taught me how to hook a worm, and I even helped him reel in," he excitedly recounted in French.
You smiled at his youthful excitement. "That sounds like a lot of fun. What else did you do?" you inquired as you both approached the entrance where the rest of the group was standing.
Noel continued his story, animatedly sharing, "Then, Jk and Dad's hooks got tangled in the water, and they both thought they caught a fish. They started pulling, but when they saw their hooks caught each other, they started fighting. All of us just laughed, and then Grandpa scolded them for fighting and put them in two different corners."
Your attention shifted to Wonwoo as he heard "Dad?" Noel looked at you with wide eyes, seemingly caught off guard. But before either of them could respond, Somi chimed in, saying, "Yes, Uncle Jk was pouting the whole time," and she laughed.
Impressed by her fluency in French, you asked, "Wow, Somi, you speak such nice French. Who taught you?"
Somi beamed with pride, responding, "Thank you. Aunt Wonwoo and Mama taught me."
Joon-hee corrected her, saying, "You mean Uncle. Her pronouns are a bit weak."
You offered reassurance, saying, "It's alright, Somi. You'll get the hang of it." The atmosphere was filled with warmth.
"Noona studied in Switzerland, right?" Jungkook asked, then corrected himself, saying, "Sorry, I mean Heyongnim."
You smiled warmly at Jungkook's question. "It's alright, Jungkook, you can call me Noona. Yes, I was mostly based in Switzerland for the last 12 years."
Wonwoo exchanged a curious glance between you and Jungkook, who playfully stuck his tongue out at him.
Joon-hee added, "Well, the four of us," emphasizing herself, Wonwoo, Jungkook, and Eleanor, "we all studied in London."
You nodded in agreement. "Yes, Wonwoo told me about that." He didn't, you read it in his file that Rachel made. 
However, the unexpected voice of Eleanor chimed in, a question that surprised you given her prior lack of interest in your conversations. "Don't you miss your friends and family back home?"
Bending down to Noel's eye level, you glanced at Eleanor with a raised eyebrow but quickly composed yourself, aware of Wonwoo's watchful gaze. "Yes, sometimes I miss my friends from the old school."
You swinged the hand you held and asked, "What about JJ and Vicky?"
He smiled and responded, "Yes, I miss them too, but I talk to them every day."
Eleanor continued with feigned innocence, "And what about your parents?" Her words cut through the air like a sudden chill, and you instinctively tightened your grip on Noel's small hand. Wonwoo, too, glared at her at the same moment, clearly sharing your displeasure. What was her problem? You were about to speak when Noel calmly said, "I do, but Tante says they are always with me," placing his hand on his heart. He looked up at you for confirmation, and you nodded back, reassurance in your eyes.
The atmosphere grew tense, and you could see the muscles in Wonwoo's jaw twitching. Jungkook, always quick on the uptake, chimed in, "Funny how children have more sensibility compared to some adults," his eyebrow arched and a sarcastic smirk on his lips as he glanced at Eleanor. Then he reached his free hand over and ruffled Noel's hair.
"Baby boy, why don't you go inside and ask Mrs. Tham to pack your bag? We'll be leaving after lunch, right?" You looked at Wonwoo, who nodded in agreement. The tension was palpable, and it seemed like a wise decision to change the topic and move forward.
But just as he was about to do so, Somi grabbed his hand and said, "Mama, can't Noel and I have a sleepover?"
Joon-hee sighed and replied, "No, baby, we have to leave as well. You both have school on Monday."
Somi's reaction was swift, like thunder preceding a lightning strike. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she dropped to the ground, wailing loudly. "No! I want to have a sleepover with Noel! I don't want to go home! I want to have a sleepover now! Now! Now!"
"Damn, Joon-hee, your daughter definitely takes after you," Jungkook remarked.
Joon-hee rolled her eyes and snapped, "Shut up, JK."
"Kwon Somi, get up from the ground this instant!" she sternly commanded.
But Somi was having none of it. "NO! NO!!! NO!!! I WILL HOLD MY BREATH UNTIL YOU AGREE!" she declared, puffing out her cheeks defiantly.
You were taken aback by the scene. How come my child never throws a tantrum like that? You gave Joon-hee a thin-lipped, sympathetic smile. She put her hands on her hips and said, "This girl, wait till I tell your father."
"And what's he going to do? Roll on the ground with her?" Jungkook quipped.
Joon-hee glared at Jungkook, who simply shrugged his shoulders.
You crouched down to Somi's level and said, "Hey, Somi, can I tell you something?" The girl, hiccuping now, stopped her wailing and listened. "How about you first get up from the ground? It's dirty and filled with insects and germs, okay?"
Somi remained on the ground. You continued, "Come on, I know you're a good girl. If you'd like, you can come to our place and have as many sleepovers as you like. I'm sure Noel would like that, right, baby?"
Noel remained silent, which left you a bit puzzled. So he wants to have a sleepover too but isn't saying it…
Jungkook clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention. "How about this: let the kids have a sleepover, and we can have a little drinks around the fire, like the old times."
"No, I can't. I haven't seen my husband in the last two days, and I want to go home," Joon-hee insisted.
Somi started wailing even louder. "Oh, come on, call him here. Just ask him to drop by in his chopper," Jungkook suggested. "Hyung, come on. We rarely get together."
"Noona," he looked at you with puppy-dog eyes and a pout.
You turned to Noel and asked, "Do you want to have a sleepover with Somi?" He nodded, albeit reluctantly.
"What do you say, Wonwoo?" you asked, looking at him.
"I'm fine with it if you are," Wonwoo replied. These were the first words you had exchanged since last night.
"Okay, it's settled then. Thank you, Noona, you're the best. Let's head inside," Jungkook exclaimed.
"Joon-hee, call Hoshi hyung. I haven't seen him in a while!" Jungkook added.
Joon-hee retorted, "If you miss him so much, then call him yourself, you ass."
You rose up and gestured inside with your head, saying, "Shall we?" and started walking inside. Jungkook left with the bags, and Eleanor, whom you had forgotten was still standing there, followed Joon-hee.
As you were almost inside, Wonwoo gently grabbed your arm and softly said, "Can we talk?" You looked at him and then back at Noel, who was heading inside. Nodding in agreement, you told Noel, "You go in first, sweetheart."
Noel disappeared into the mansion, leaving you alone with Wonwoo. He gestured toward a picturesque gazebo nestled in the garden, surrounded by various vibrant peonies of different colors. The gazebo was adorned with comfortable couches and a small table, creating an inviting atmosphere for conversations and relaxation.
You followed Wonwoo to the gazebo, the fragrance of the blooming peonies filling the air as you both settled down on the couch.
The sun beamed down in the noon, and birds chirped melodiously in the background as you and Wonwoo settled into the comfortable gazebo. He opened and closed his mouth as if struggling to find the right words to say. However, before he could speak, your phone rang. Rachel's name flashed on the screen, and you answered the call.
"Yes, Rach? What's up?" you inquired.
"I was wondering what time you'll be here," she responded.
"Well, we're having an impromptu gathering, and the kids wanted to have a sleepover. So, in all probability, tomorrow morning," you explained, examining your nails casually. "Why do you ask?"
"I see. Then I'm sending you some files; please check them," Rachel informed you.
"Sure, I'll take a look. See you tomorrow. Bye," you replied, ending the call. Placing your phone on the table, you waited for Wonwoo to begin.
He cleared his throat and mentioned, "So, Rachel?"
"Why, curious?"
Wonwoo's gaze, filled with intensity, made you uncomfortable. "You may find it difficult to believe, but these days I find myself curious about you. Your past, your feelings, your day-to-day life. Will you ease my curiosity, Y/N?" he asked.
your palms grow slightly sweaty under his scrutinizing stare. You replied, "I don't know what to say, Wonwoo."
He gently reached for your hand but then hesitated, holding himself back. "I am sorry, Y/N, for my words last night. I know I hurt your feelings."
As you sat there, your eyes were drawn to the serene lake behind him. A sardonic smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you uttered,
"I don't think you can hurt a woman who has already been hurt by her own heart. I've loved a man who belonged to someone I cherished the most in the world. You just called me something that most were afraid to say out loud."
"Y/N, I—" Wonwoo began.
"Wonwoo, don't you think it's very hypocritical of me to criticize you when we're both using each other equally? To fill our voids, to soothe a guilt, punishing ourselves for something we had no control over?" you said, avoiding a direct answer.
"Don't you get tired?" Wonwoo asked, his eyes searching yours.
Your gaze met his, and you replied, "I do, but then I remember I have someone's childhood in my hand."
The wind ruffled your hair, and the sun's reflection in your eyes made you look radiant in Wonwoo's eyes. He reached out and tucked the rebel strand behind your ear, his fingers grazing your cheek. A warmth crept into your cheeks, and you became acutely aware of the heat between you two.
"That day at my parents' house, I told them about Noella's family and even the reason why his family is a threat to him," He admitted.
"I know. Your mother told me about it, and I'm regretful of my accusations regarding their intentions. They're good people," You acknowledged.
"Y/N, you know what my father said to me today? He said, 'You can't be good at everything, but that doesn't mean you can't do anything. Just because we can't solve each other's every problem, that doesn't mean we can't understand them. I know we both have our reasons for doing the things we do, and maybe one day we'll trust each other enough to talk about it.'"
A small smile played on your lips and thought We're in too deep to go back now, aren't we Wonwoo?
"And since we're both on the same team, why don't we treat each other as one?" Wonwoo suggested.
"I like the sound of that," you replied, feeling a sense of relief.
"So, friends?" he offered, extending his hand for you to shake.
"Friends," you agreed, shaking his hand.
"Again, I'm sorry about last night. I don't know why I reacted the way I did," Wonwoo apologized.
"Hmm, I'm sorry too," you admitted.
"So, we're cool then?" he inquired.
"Wait," you scrunched your brows, "don't you want to apologize for one more thing?"
"About what?" Wonwoo looked perplexed for a moment, then glanced at your lips. "Oh, you mean the kiss."
You nodded, displaying your obvious annoyance. "Yes."
"Yeah, no, I'm not sorry about it," he admitted, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You kissed me back."
"Seriously," you muttered.
"Why should I apologize for something I don't regret?" Wonwoo teased.
"You're unbelievable," you grumbled and began to march back to the mansion, leaving the laughing man and your phone behind.
As you reached the second floor and settled into your room, you realized your phone was absent. Puzzled, you retraced your steps, intending to retrieve it. However, while heading back downstairs, you happened to glimpse Wonwoo and Eleanor through the window on the second story. They were engaged in a hushed conversation, their faces close, and Wonwoo was gripping Eleanor's forearm.
Your lips tightened into a thin line, and you decided not to intervene. You continued to your room, thinking that it was time to check your emails and get back to your work. Before you entered your room, you stopped a passing maid and asked her to retrieve your phone from the gazebo where you had left it earlier.
Wonwoo was smiling to himself when he noticed your phone on the table. He picked it up, the corners of his lips curling upwards at some amusing thought.
Just as he turned to head back into the mansion, a voice cut through the air, "What's got you smiling like that, Wonnie?"
The voice that once felt like a first sip of water after walking in the desert now felt like swallowing sand. He ignored her and continued walking.
Eleanor, however, wasn't one to be ignored. She stepped in his way, a sly smile playing on her lips. "What do you want, Eleanor?"
He drew in a breath and stared down at her with a stern expression. "What we can't even talk now? We weren't on that bad of terms five months ago. Or is it that you're trying to get into good graces by playing a virtuous husband to your young wife and doting father to a little charity case? I must say, I'm loving this look on you."
His patience was running thin, and he harshly grabbed her elbow, pulling her close as he spoke through clenched teeth. "That night was one of the most regrettable nights of my life, you chose this for yourself so now live with it. You're the last person who should be talking about virtue here. Keep my wife's and son's names out of your damn mouth, because if I start, you won't have anything left to crawl back to."
Eleanor's eyes widened at the intensity in his voice. She stammered, "You have no idea who you're messing with. I am a congressman's wife."
Wonwoo let out a bitter laugh and looked down at her with pity. "The way you act, you don't seem like one. Stay out of my family's business unless you don't mind losing whatever faux pride is left in you."
With that, he shoved her out of the way and stormed inside the mansion. Eleanor gritted her teeth, vowing to herself, "You will regret this, Jeon Wonwoo."
...
...
The airport bustled with travelers from around the world. The Heathrow Airport was a massive, modern structure, filled with glass windows that allowed the daylight to stream in, and a high ceiling that made the space feel grand. Travelers scurried about, dragging their luggage, while the constant sound of announcements echoed through the terminal.
In this bustling environment, Jeonghan and Victor emerged from their arrival gate, eager and excited. They were welcomed by Victor's sister, who stood there with a placard that read, "Grooms to be." Her enthusiasm was contagious, and she exchanged warm hugs with the newly arrived duo.
"Welcome, welcome!" she exclaimed, her excitement evident in her voice. "We have so much to do today. First, let's head to your new home, and then we have a dinner appointment with your wedding planner."
As they left the airport, Victor's sister skillfully maneuvered her way through the London traffic, and along the way, Jeonghan and Victor caught up. They discussed what Jeonghan had been up to, particularly his new thesis project.
Then, curious about their plans, Victor's sister inquired, "When is your friend, Y/N, coming?"
Jeonghan couldn't help but beam at the thought. "I plan to go there and surprise her myself, and my mother is coming too. We know it's in the middle of all the planning, but I can't wait to see their shocked faces." He interlaced his fingers with Victor's, their hands held firmly together and planted a kiss at the back of Victor's hand.
...
In a lavish hotel room on Hoxton Street, Nikolai paced restlessly, an expensive crystal glass filled with aged, amber whiskey in his hand. The glass was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, etched with intricate patterns, and the whiskey inside was a fine, aged liquor that spoke of luxury and taste.
He was in a heated phone conversation, his voice laced with frustration. "What do you mean they're threatening to cancel the contract?" His knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip on the glass. The voice on the other end explained in German , "They're saying that if you aren't able to secure capital within three weeks, they will cancel the contract."
Nikolai could feel his blood pressure rising as he processed the information. "Did you tell this to Dad?"
The person on the line replied indifferently, "Boss says that this is your project, your problem."
Nikolai's patience wore thin. He hurled the phone against the wall in a fit of rage. His loyal lackey stood nearby, watching his boss slowly lose his composure.
"Find out where Noella's little bastard is and end him right on the spot, and make it look like an accident," Nikolai demanded, taking a menacing step forward.
The lackey hesitated, "I don't think killing the child will be beneficial."
"Say what?" Nikolai demanded an explanation.
The lackey continued, "Our insider said that, according to Ms. Noella's will, if something were to happen to her, the kid will go with Y/N. But there's no mention of what to do if something were to happen to Y/N."
Nikolai contemplated this for a moment. "But the court has a restraining order against me."
The lackey smirked and added, "But not against boss."
Nikolai's lips curled into a sadistic smile. The lackey pushed further, "That way, we can have access to all of his inheritance."
"But what about Dad? He will not agree," Nikolai pointed out.
The lackey, always ready with a solution, pondered for a few seconds and replied, "Everything takes a little convincing. I'm sure he misses Ms. Noella, especially after the death of Mrs. Bulavia. Having her child near him may soothe his pain. And this way, you will also gain his favor. As far as the restraining order is concerned, what is there in this world that money can't buy?"
Nikolai gulped down the remaining drink in his glass and grabbed the lackey's face, his eyes gleaming with malice. "You are a genius."
"Thank you, sir," the lackey said with a sinister smile.
Nikolai turned to the window, his eyes scanning the busy streets below, and he thought, 'So long, Y/N.'
...
...
Slowly, as per schedule, all the family guests left. After lunch, everyone except for Wonwoo's and Jungkook's parents, Aunt Haeri, and Lee Chan had departed. Aunt Haeri had an early morning surgery, and Lee Chan left with Mrs. Tham. Joon-hee assured you that Somi's caretaker would be there to watch over the kids, so there was nothing to worry about. However, your mother-in-law insisted that Cecilia, the head caretaker of the mansion, be there just in case to take care of Noel.
You were working in your room, engrossed in your tasks to check the proposal's file, and lost track of time. You didn't even realize when the sun settled down and the stars emerged in the sky. There was a knock at your door, and you called, "Enter." Noel appeared in the room, dressed in his nightwear. You smiled and said, "Hey, baby boy, all ready for your first sleepover?"
He looked a bit confused and replied, "But we used to have sleepovers all the time."
You gently placed the laptop on the bed and pulled Noel into your lap, saying, "Well, yes, but this is your first sleepover with a friend."
Noel nodded excitedly. "You're liking it in here, aren't you?"
He nodded and replied, "Yes, everyone has been good to me, especially Grandma and Grandpa. They even said that I can visit them whenever I like. And Somi said that I look cool when I speak French, so I help her as well."
You brushed his innocent, cerulean eyes, pushing his fringes aside, and asked, "Oh, did she now?"
You advised him with a smile, "Have fun, and no scary stories or horror movies, okay? And not too many sugary drinks before bed."
Noel protested, "Tante, I'm not a kid anymore."
You kissed his chubby cheeks and said, "Yes, yes, you're a big boy now." He fidgeted with his fingers.
Then he mentioned, "In the afternoon, when I called Uncle Wonwoo 'Dad,' you didn't mind, right? Grandpa told me that he is my dad now, not my uncle, so I should call him that."
You reassured him, "It's not about me, but about you. Don't let anyone pressure you into something you don't like. You can continue calling him 'Uncle' if you're comfortable with that."
Noel contemplated and then responded, "I don't mind calling him 'Dad'."
You smiled and told him, "If that's what you want." Then you asked, "How come you never call me 'Mom'?"
Noel explained, "Because you're Tante." You kissed his forehead and said, "And you'll forever be my baby boy. You know, Noel, if you ever want something, you can always tell me about it."
"Even throw a tantrum?" Noel asked.
You chuckled and said, "Well, not to the extent of rolling on the floor, but yes, you can." He continued to tell you about JJ, who called and is also excited about his first sleepover.
Unbeknownst to you, Wonwoo, whom you hadn't seen since lunch, was standing, or rather leaning, against the door frame, looking at the both of you. Noel spotted him first and hopped down from your lap, giving you a hug and saying, "Good night, Tante."
You smiled and replied, "Good night, baby boy." Noel then went to Wonwoo and wished him, "Good night, Dad." Wonwoo ruffled Noel's hair, saying, "Good night, bud. Have fun."
As Cecilia came to pick him up, Wonwoo closed the door behind him and plopped down on the bed next to your feet. You picked up the laptop again, reading the file, and he remarked, "Well, at least someone will have fun."
Your eyes were glued to the laptop as you teasingly asked, "Why is that, 'Dad'?"
Wonwoo opened one of his eyes to peer up at you from his lying position and replied with a grin, "Jealous much?"
You retorted, "Oh, please, you should be proud of me. Most women take at least nine months to make their husband a dad, and I made you one within two months."
You both shared a laugh. He added, "What can I say, words fail me. I have such a talented wife."
With a sigh, he confessed, "God, Y/N, I don't want to go."
You empathized, "Then don't."
He challenged your reluctance, saying, "You have no idea, JK will kick down this door and drag us there. He can be a little—"
"Persistent?" you offered.
"Well, he's a lawyer. What else do you expect?" adding further.
"But I wish it were just that. Jungkook's friend will also be there."
You questioned, "Congressman Lee?"
Wonwoo confirmed, "Uh huh."
"That means Eleanor will also be there," you pointed out.
He responded with a nonchalant tone, "Hmm."
You recalled their interaction earlier by the gazebo and couldn't help mentioning it, your voice growing more serious. "You weren't dreading her presence when talking to her in front of the gazebo after I left."
Wonwoo rose up from his position and stood in front of you, trying to explain, "Y/n, I swear she stopped my way. It's not what you think."
You questioned, "And what do I think?"
He was at a loss for words and struggled to explain further, "Listen, Y/n, she stopped my way—"
You cut him off with a composed response, "It's alright, Wonwoo, you don't owe me an explanation. It's none of my business."
He seemed taken aback by your response, so you continued, "So, whatever I do is none of your business."
You responded calmly, "Well, until the time it doesn't directly affect mine or Noel's life, it's not."
Wonwoo tried to test your reaction further, asking, "So, you wouldn't mind if I flirt with other women?"
You nonchalantly shrugged, your inner thoughts conflicted. The angel on your right shoulder whispered, "You're digging yourself a grave, Y/n." Meanwhile, the angel on your left shoulder cheered, "Tell him. If he doesn't mind you flirting with other men."
With a mischievous smile, you responded, "Sure, if you don't mind me flirting with other men." you can hear a small sound of someone face palming themselves from your right shoulder.
His reaction was swift. Wonwoo bent down to your eye level and lightly grabbed your chin with his thumb and forefinger, his gaze intense as he said, "I'd like to see you try." The unexpected sensuality in his voice made your core tighten in reflex, and you couldn't help but clench at the sensation. He smirked at your dumbfounded expression, then turned to the wardrobe and took out a pair of black wide-leg formal trousers and a cotton shirt.
Wonwoo emerged after changing into his attire, his shirt fashionably unbuttoned at the top, offering a teasing glimpse of his well-defined chest. His silver Rolex Yacht-Master II watch graced his wrist, and his sleeves were casually rolled up, giving him an effortlessly stylish look. There was no denying the fact that Wonwoo was an attractive man, and the addition of his glasses only accentuated his intellectual charm.
As you watched him, you often found yourself pondering why male poets wrote pages describing the beauty of women when there seemed to be insufficient words to truly appreciate a man's splendor. Maybe it was because men wanted the world to know about the magnificence of the objects of their admiration, while women preferred to keep such treasures safely nestled within their hearts.
Caught in your contemplation, you met Wonwoo's playful smirk with a knowing smile "Like what you see?"
You refrained from entertaining his teasing and looked back at your laptop.
"Are you coming?" Wonwoo asked.
You replied, "I'll be there after replying to a few emails and checking the sheets."
He offered, "You can skip if you're not feeling up to it."
You told him, "I'll think about it," and returned to your work. About twenty minutes passed, but you couldn't shake the thought of your attractive husband outside.
'Isn't he looking a bit too good then normal?' a small voice spoke from your left shoulder. what will she do in front of her husband? The memory of her throwing herself in front of Wonwoo's car on your wedding day sent goosebumps racing across your skin. I mean, you're certain that everyone is aware of their history but 'you can't let yourself be disrespected like that if something does happens there,while you're in the same premises as them'.
Fine, you decided, "I'll attend," and in no time, you had changed into a black viscose mini dress and some comfortable Isola flat mules. Letting your hair down and applying light makeup, Within half an hour you headed to the pool house where everyone had gathered.
Jungkook skillfully mixed drinks at the bar, engaged in conversation with Congressman Lee. Eleanor animatedly recounted the story of how they once stayed past curfew to attend a Beyoncé concert.
Meanwhile, Wonwoo sat on a cozy two-seater, his legs crossed, and a glass of wine resting on his perched knee. He seemed rather disinterested in the ongoing conversation and was scrolling in his phone. Joon-hee nestled in her husband's lap, you try to put a name to the face, Ah Kwon Hoshi the two of them sharing affectionate smiles as they listened to Eleanor's tale.
Kwon Hoshi, the heir of Tiger Baby Media. It was widely known in their social circles that both he and his father were passionate about tigers, even actively supporting causes to protect these magnificent creatures.
'when did he arrive?' then you recall the loud noise of a chopper landing on the helipad outside around 5 pm. A maid, upon being questioned, informed you that Han Joon-hee's husband had arrived.
"Oh, Noona, you made it," Jungkook greeted you as you entered, the first to notice your arrival. All eyes turned in your direction, but it was Wonwoo's gaze that lingered on you. He couldn't help but gulp as you both appeared to be perfectly coordinated.
"What would you like, whiskey or wine?" Jungkook inquired.
"Whiskey, please," you replied.
"Right away." Jungkook set about preparing your drink. You settled down next to Wonwoo, who slipped his phone into his pocket and casually placed his hand behind the headrest, your right shoulder lightly brushing against his chest.
You exchanged pleasantries with Kwon Hoshi, acknowledging Congressman Lee who just raised his glass at your direction and his wife, who was giving you disapproving looks.
Amid the conversation with Joon-hee, Wonwoo leaned in and whispered in your ear. His warm breath sent shivers down your spine. "You look ravishing," he praised, sniffing behind your ear. "and smell fucking delicious."
You turned your head and whispered back, "What do you think you're doing?"
"Complimenting my wife," he responded.
If two can play at this game, you thought to yourself and whispered in his ear, "You don't look half bad yourself."
He seemed to be getting a bit buzzed. Jungkook handed you your drink, and you thanked him. Jungkook took a seat in a single chair opposite Hoshi and Joon-hee, while Eleanor and her husband sat across from you and Wonwoo.
Lee Joon-suk sipped from his glass, his eyes unfocused as he reclined in his seat, and then he started addressing you, "Ms. Y/N, you've grown into a fine young lady. I remember you when you were sixteen, accompanying your mother to the exhibitions hosted by my aunt." He turned to look at Wonwoo and remarked, "You're one lucky guy."
Wonwoo cleared his throat, replying, "Sure am."
Lee Joon-suk continued, "I heard that you both are working on a resort together." You nodded and said, "Yes, construction is underway."
He drained his glass and set it on the table. "Well, do let me know if you need any help. It's always a pleasure to be of use to a beautiful young lady."
You felt the annoyance radiating from Wonwoo, his grip tightening around his glass. To ease the tension, you placed your hand on his knee and replied, "My husband and I will keep that in mind."
You didn't miss the subtle smile Joon-hee gave behind her glass, raising her eyebrows in intrigue.
As the moon ascended higher in the night sky, food and drinks continued to flow. You had a helping of food and kept taking small sips from your glass. You couldn't afford to get drunk in front of people you had just met. Wonwoo, too, switched to whiskey. He apparently had a higher tolerance than you initially thought.
The mood was light, and jokes were exchanged. Hoshi and Jungkook began playfully teasing Wonwoo.
Jungkook grinned mischievously and quipped, "Hey, Hoshi Hyung , you remember, he used to be such workaholic he even brought his laptop as a plus one to your wedding"
Hoshi chimed in, "Yeah, man Y/N must have done some real magic, For you to agree to get married."
Wonwoo, unfazed, responded with a smirk, "Well, what can I say I had no interst in seeing him cosplay a tiger in white suit and kiss my sister every five minutes"
You couldn't help but smile at the back and forth, your nerves relaxed to the point you didn't even mind,The hand that was initially behind you slowly settled on your nape, fingers pressing lightly on your left collarbone. Your hand, which had been drawing circles on his knee, reached up to his thigh. Laughter filled the air as everyone shared antidotes from their past, and they chuckled, except for Eleanor, who remained silent, her discomfort palpable. Isn't it funny how fate works at one point where someone who used to be the most important after a time seem irrelevant.
Upon Jungkook's insistence he poured you an another glass, you weren't drunk but you were feeling a little buzzed, your back comfortably against Wonwoo's chest, his warm breath on the top of your head.
Amid the jovial atmosphere, Jungkook suddenly whined, "Guys, I'm the only one without a partner here!"
You tilted your head curiously, "Jungkook, why don't you have a partner?"
Joon-hee, ever the sharp-tongued one, chimed in, "Well, he's the jack of all trades, master of none. He's been switching partners so often that at the end, he's all alone."
Jungkook pouted and complained, "Noona, for the past few days, I've wanted someone, but she's not giving me a chance!"
Wonwoo, intrigued, asked, "Do we know her, kookie?"
Jungkook smirked and replied, "Well, not you, but Noona knows her very well, actually." Making you knit your brows in confusion. He then stumbled over to the bar, grabbed an empty wine bottle, and suggested, "Let's play truth or dare!"
Several rounds of the game later, the bottle landed on Wonwoo, and he chose "dare." Jungkook, with a mischievous glint in his eye, gave him a wicked ultimatum: eat a spoonful of hot sauce or switch to "truth" and share his most embarrassing sexual encounter.
Without hesitation, Wonwoo opted for the hot sauce. However, as soon as the spoon rested on his taste buds the pain made him realise that people can see stars with their eyes close as well. His face turned red, sweat poured down his forehead, and his eyes watered uncontrollably.
You saw Eleanor concerned face as she rose to grab the water bottle for the side but Quickly, you grabbed an ice cube from your glass, put it in your mouth, and took Wonwoo's face in your hands. You kissed him deeply, letting the ice cube melt in his mouth as your lips met his. After breaking the kiss, you looked into his eyes and asked with a smile, "Feeling better now?"
Wonwoo, still recovering from the fiery hot sauce, nodded. whatever little intoxication he felt, all sobered down you noticed his eyes slightly dilated.
Amidst the collective "ooooooo" of amazement and laughter that echoed around the room, Jungkook exclaimed, "Damn, Noona, you're so cool!" playfully teasing.
But what soured eleanor's mood further was that her husband had indulged a bit too much in the drinks. Eleanor excused herself from the group, helping her tipsy spouse as she made her way towards the door. Jungkook kindly offered to prepare a guest room for her, but she politely declined, explaining that she had a meeting with the party board members early the next morning. Her driver was ready to assist, guiding her inebriated husband to the waiting car. Her husband slurred his goodbyes to everyone.
Amid this scene, you overheard Joon-hee's sweet words as she kissed her husband's cheek, saying, "I'm so glad my baby is not a sloppy drunk." Hoshi, who had also had his share of drinks and was now sporting rosy cheeks, gave a warm, somewhat goofy smile that was reminiscent of Somi's charming expressions. It was a heartwarming moment.
It was now Jungkook's turn, you dared him to do ten shots off Hoshi's body. He whined, saying, "Noona, are you trying to kill me here?" You retorted, "You should have thought of that before you shoved hot sauce down my husband's throat," which caused Wonwoo to burst into laughter.
"So you both a team now huh?
Hoshi lay down on the now empty table, and Joon-hee lined up the shots on her husband's body. Jungkook managed to down six shots before he fell onto a two-seater couch. Out as the daylight, Wonwoo rang for the butler to assist Jungkook to his room.
You turned to find Hoshi and Joon-hee, lost in their own world, were busy making out, while you and Wonwoo sat in tense silence,
Things were getting a bit too steamy with Hoshi and Joon-hee, so you leaned over to Wonwoo and whispered, "I think it's time for us to call it a night."
Wonwoo nodded in agreement, and you both quietly excused yourselves from the room.
You were acutely conscious of his presence behind you. The flavors of whiskey and hot sauce still clung to your taste buds, and Wonwoo wasn't faring any better. His heart raced in his chest as you led the way. You held the door open for him, and he stepped inside. You followed, your against the door, trying to regain your composure, and your breaths came in measured counts.
In the stillness of the night, your hands worked swiftly to find and secure the lock, while you and Wonwoo engaged in an unspoken duel of wills. It was a contest of who could maintain the intense gaze without faltering. Your fingers danced behind the door, seeking the lock mechanism, and when it finally yielded with a soft click, the sound reverberated in the room.
The room was wrapped in a cocoon of silence, interrupted only by the gentle hum of crickets serenading the night outside. Wonwoo, with his hand extended, palm up, broke the silent challenge, offering you to take his hand. He whispered softly, "Come here."
You pushed away from the door and took a step towards him, your hand slipping into his. His warm, calloused fingers caressed your knuckles before he raised your hand to his lips, recreating the tender gesture from the first time he visited your house for dinner. His deep kiss spoke volumes without uttering a word.
Wordlessly, he turned your hand still in his and guided you towards the curtained window. With a graceful sweep, he drew the curtains aside, “you know why I always chose this room". You couldn't trust your voice at that moment, so you silently mouthed, 'why.'
He moved behind you, his strong arms encircling your waist. His warm breath tickled your neck as he answered, "Because of this."
Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the breathtaking view. The path leading to the garden was bathed in subtle, soft lights. Around the irises, many fireflies danced, casting a mesmerizing glow. It was as if the stars had descended from the heavens and were scattered across the ground, creating a scene that was nothing short of magical.
"It's beautiful," you breathed in admiration as you took in the enchanting view.
"It is," the timber of his voice resonated through you, adding to the enchantment of the moment. You turned to find him already gazing down at you, a silent understanding passing between you. Your eyes danced between his eyes and his lips, and as if drawn by an invisible force, you both leaned in, closing the distance that separated you.
He captured your lips with his, and the world outside disappeared into the embrace of your shared kiss. It was a moment that needed no words, a moment of perfect togetherness under the canopy of stars and fireflies.
Your senses were ablaze as the taste of whiskey on his tongue mingled with the faint remnant of hot sauce on yours. His hands moved with a gentleness that contradicted the burning intensity of the kiss, sliding up your arms.
Time slipped away as you explored each other's lips with a fierce longing, the tension that had lingered between you all evening now ignited into a passionate flame. The heat in the room seemed to increase, and the air became charged with electricity.
Wonwoo's kisses trailed down your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. He whispered in your ear, "I think we've had enough games for tonight."
Your hands slid beneath his shirt, fingers tracing the contours of his sculpted chest. "I couldn't agree more."
PG-15 VERSION ENDS HERE
A/N: (After '------' this line you can read the Extra)
You felt Wonwoo's fingers deftly working at the zipper of your dress, allowing the fabric to cascade to the floor. Your bare skin tingled under his touch. His lips found yours once more, and you could taste the raw desire in his kiss.
Wonwoo gently lifted you, carrying you to the bed guided you to your knees and took a step back to appreciate your enticing appearance. Your chest heaved with anticipation as you looked up at him, your eyes dilated and filled with longing. He put his hand on your shoulder, his voice deep and sensual as he whispered, "Tell me you want this."
Your fingers deftly worked down the buttons of his shirt, revealing his chiseled chest beneath. With deliberate sensuality, you scraped your nails lightly down his defined abs, and he bit his lips in response to the electrifying sensation.
"I want you, Wonwoo," you murmured, your voice filled with desire. You rose, your lips trailing hot and wet kisses along his neck, down to his collarbones, and further, slowly descending toward his belly button. He threw his head back and groaned, overwhelmed by the intoxicating sensations you were invoking.
Looking up at him, you took in the effect you were having on him. His Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped, the heat of your mouth on his body driving him wild. You circled your hands around his waist, fingers working on his belt buckle, each touch stoking the fiery passion between you.
You unlatched his belt buckle and removed it from the hoop, letting it drop to the floor with a distinct cling sound. You were about to undo the button of his pants when his strong hands engulfed yours, halting your movements. Confusion flickered in your eyes as you looked up at him.
He gently cupped your chin, tilting your head up to his lips and whispered, "There's a lot of time for that, baby girl." His fingers brushed your hair away from your face, and he began to plant soft, teasing kisses along the path he traced: from your forehead, your left eye, the side of your nose, your cheeks, and the corners of your lips.
As your mouths met and opened, your tongues engaged in a sensuous dance, exploring each other's desires. His hands reached behind you to unhook the clasp, freeing you from the confining embrace of your garment.
His warm palms firmly cupped your chest, causing a deep groan to rise in your throat. He bit your lower lip, making you moan in response. Breaking the kiss, he used his left thumb and slipped it into your mouth, commanding, "Suck."
You obediently complied, wrapping your lips around his thumb and swirling your tongue sensually around it. All the while, you peered up at him, watching his reaction. He gazed down at his thumb in your mouth, his jaw clenching as if trying to control himself.
With a wet pop, he withdrew his thumb and trailed it down from your mouth to your collarbone, leaving a cold and tingling sensation in its wake. Finally, he reached your breast, circling and tweaking your nipple with a teasing touch. His right hand slid down your body, slipping beneath your panties, his fingers delving into your heated flesh with a firm and demanding grip.
The pleasure overwhelmed you, and you couldn't help but cry out, "Fuck, Wonwoo." Your head arched back as the intensity of his touch sent shivers down your spine. With deliberate intent, he tugged at your nipple and slowly pushed you onto your back, his desire evident in his every move.
He gripped the waistband of your panties and slowly removed them, leaving you completely bare and at his mercy. Wonwoo climbed onto the bed on his knees, his chest rising and falling, his cheeks flushed. He gazed at you with a fiery desire in his eyes.
"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he murmured, his fingers trailing from your knees to your thighs. “Your spark lights a flame with me” He removed his glasses and threw them on the bedside table. Bending down, he began to kiss your neck, his lips exploring the sensitive skin below your ear. You moaned softly, your fingers digging into the back of his head, grazing the blades of his well-defined shoulders.
Descending further, he captured one of your nipples with his warm mouth, sending a shock of pleasure coursing through your body. After lavishing attention on one breast, he switched to the other, his tongue and lips setting your nerve endings ablaze. Your core throbbed, and you found yourself grinding your thighs together, seeking any friction you could find.
Noticing your struggle, Wonwoo quipped, "Is my baby girl in pain?" You shot him a glare, wanting to wipe that smug smirk off his face. However, you had other plans. You hooked your legs behind him, and with a swift motion, you flipped positions, straddling him. Your bare sex rubbed against the rough material of his trousers, which concealed his evident arousal, and both of you hissed in response.
As he looked up at you, naked and sitting atop his clothed arousal, you began to move your hips provocatively, eliciting a throaty growl from him. "Fuck, Y/n, slow down," he implored, if you don't, I'll end up coming in my pants, He thought to himself.
You dismissed his words, your voice heavy with desire. "Less talking, more fucking." You moved your hips rhythmically, and he raised to his elbows, gripping your hips tightly to halt your movements. "Raise your hips," he instructed, "I promise I won't tease. I need to prepare you, love."
Without further delay, he began to give your bundle of nerves the attention they craved. His thumb circled your sensitive bud while he slowly inserted his forefinger inside you. The sensation was electrifying, and you felt your arousal building from your spine to your womb, flooding you with pleasure.
Your vision blurred, and the sensations washed over you, causing your body to tense and quiver. You bit into Wonwoo's neck, desperate to muffle your moans as your climax approached. His name became a chant on your lips, and your hips began to ride his hand, your movements taking on a mind of their own. You were lost in ecstasy, your world reduced to the pleasure that consumed you.
When he added a third finger, you gasped, and your hips twitched involuntarily. "Wonwoo," you gasped, and he whispered, "Let go, baby. I've got you."
With a mind of their own, your hips raised from his thighs, and you began to ride his hand, the overwhelming sensations driving you closer to your climax. You were too lost in your ecstasy to notice Wonwoo opened his trousers a little and brought out his member giving it a few pumps making him moan at the sight of you. But just as you were about to cross that exhilarating threshold, he withdrew his hand, leaving you gasping in shock. "WHAT THE FUck–" you began, but before you could finish your sentence, he seized your hips and thrust his throbbing member deep inside you.
Your world exploded as he penetrated you, and you screamed as he entered your most intimate depths, causing your inner muscles to clench around him. Two powerful thrusts were all it took for your first orgasm to crash over you, an electrifying wave of pleasure that sent you spiraling into ecstasy. Your body convulsed around him, and he groaned, overcome by the intense grip of your tightness.
Your chests pressed together, your foreheads touching, and he pushed up into you at a languid pace, allowing you to ride the waves of your orgasm. He paused when he noticed your furrowed brow, knowing you needed a moment to come back from the euphoric high.
With one arm, he held you up as you lay upon him, your hair cascading like a curtain over his face. He kissed your neck and nipped at your earlobe as he allowed you to regain your composure. As your heartbeat gradually returned to normal and you opened your eyes, a silly smile graced your lips.
“What’s so funny?”
“Oh nothing it’s just that in the afternoon you said let’s be friends”
“Ah”
In the blink of an eye, he shifted your positions once again. You lay on your back, and he knelt between your parted legs, your hips hovering in the air. “Then let me show you how good my friendship can be”,His hands gripped your supple buttocks, surely leaving marks in their wake. As he entered you again, you felt his gaze locked onto you with an insatiable hunger in his eyes.
With a husky whisper, he purred, with a wink, "My turn."
TBC.
.
.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
EXTRA:
When Jeonghan was in his first year of college, he read the concluding lines of the main character in Shakespeare's "Twelfth Night": "Fate, show thy force; ourselves we do not owe; what is decreed must be, and be this so." He couldn't disagree with something more at the time, but little did he know how much he would have to eat his words.
Jeonghan had come to drop off a pin drive you'd left at home in your office. He was about to step into the elevator when Victor rushed in before him. In German, Jeonghan asked, "Hold the elevator, please," but Victor, who was also late for a meeting, just gestured to his watch and said, "Sorry, short on time." The doors closed with Victor inside, leaving Jeonghan grumbling and taking the next elevator.
When Jeonghan reached your office, he saw the same man showing you something in his file and making you sign some documents. Jeonghan glared at him, and the man looked a little awkward. You introduced Jeonghan to him.
"Ah, JJ, come in. Mr. Sine and I are almost done here," you said.
"Mr. Sine, this is my good friend, Yoon Jeonghan, an Assistant Professor at KIU," you continued.
"JJ, this is my new representative, Mr—"
"Mr. Short on Time," Jeonghan interrupted with a sly smile.
The air between the three of you seemed charged with unspoken tension. You, ever perceptive, sensed it and said, "Okay, why don't you take a seat, Mr. Sine? Shall we continue?"
Mr. Sine cleared his throat and agreed, shifting his attention back to you as he began to explain the contract clauses, pointing to where you should sign. Meanwhile, Jeonghan settled into a nearby couch, picking up a magazine and pretending to be engrossed in it.
Jeonghan couldn't help but notice Victor attempting to act cool about it, and, true to his petty nature at times, he decided that if two could play this game, he'd certainly be up for the challenge. For the next six minutes, while Victor stood next to you, his peripheral attention was continuously drawn to Jeonghan, feeling the weight of his stare.
...
Two days after the encounter at your office, Jeonghan found himself in a pub with his friends, passionately discussing the decline of the social sciences. They delved into the structure of society, which seemed to be transforming into a conformist matrix that stifled critical thinking and suppressed diverse voices.
Victor happened to enter the same pub with his coworker, and he immediately spotted Jeonghan. The conversation around the table focused on whether criticizing problems would lead to solutions.
Victor quipped, "What can be done? Your criticism doesn't always result in a solution."
Jeonghan, who was ardently immersed in the debate, responded, "Sometimes the journey toward finding an answer is more liberating than the answer itself."
Victor, his eyes locked with Jeonghan's, engaged in a silent battle of wits and wills, momentarily oblivious to their surroundings. Jeonghan's coworker interrupted their silent exchange by clearing his throat, prompting Jeonghan to break his gaze.
When Jeonghan's coworker noticed another person entering the pub, he excitedly exclaimed, "Oh, he's here!"
Both Jeonghan and Victor turned their attention to see an average-looking but seemingly confident guy, often referred to as a "chad" among their friends, entering the establishment.
"This is the guy I was telling you about," the coworker said to Jeonghan. "Come on, I'll introduce you to him."
Jeonghan hesitated and replied with unease, "Robert, I told you I don't want to meet new people just yet."
Undeterred, his coworker insisted, "Oh, come on, Yoon. A simple 'hello' won't hurt. It's not like I told you to marry him."
He attempted to pull Jeonghan from his chair to introduce him to the newcomer. However, just as Jeonghan was about to be dragged away, someone firmly grasped his other wrist. It was Victor, his gravelly voice and authoritative gaze stopping the coworker in his tracks.“He said no, didn’t he?”
Jeonghan's heart quickened, and he felt a tingle in his stomach. He couldn't help but be captivated by Victor's protective response, and from that moment on, the rest became history. Dating Jeonghan was no easy task, but for Victor, every moment spent with him was worth the effort.
In college, Victor's boyfriend, a literature major, once read out a verse by Charles Bukowski: "When nobody wakes you up in the morning, and when nobody waits for you at night, and when you can do whatever you want. What do you call it? Freedom or loneliness?"
Turning to Victor, his boyfriend had asked, "What do you think, Vic? Is it freedom or loneliness?"
Victor, who had grown up in an immigrant household where his parents and four siblings had always been busy, striving for a better life, and chasing opportunities, answered confidently, "Freedom."
Then why is it now when he walks into his house, in the same streets where he used to deliver newspapers in so he could afford some pocket money for his bus card, as he walked into his house, closing the door of his Audi and opening the door to their home, where Jeonghan's absence was strongly felt because he was away attending a conference, Victor couldn't help but feel that this moment was closer to "loneliness."
After taking a shower, Victor entered the kitchen, planning to open the fridge. However, he noticed a post-it note that read, "Warm up the lasagna and don't forget to take out the trash. P.S., don't eat my muffin."
And that's when Victor had an epiphany. … It had been three days since your wedding, and you had flown down to Switzerland with Victor. As he drove both of you to the office, you were fiddling with your engagement ring and staring out at the passing scenery.
Victor broke the silence, saying, "It's a pretty ring."
You snapped out of your reverie and looked at him, slightly confused. "The ring," he clarified, nodding toward your hand. "It's pretty."
"Ah, thanks. It belonged to my husband's grandmother," you replied.
"Heirloom, eh?"
"Yes," you confirmed with a somewhat awkward laugh.
"So, how are things between you and JJ?" Victor asked.
"Good, as good as they could get," Victor responded with a chuckle.
"Good is nice," you hummed.
"I wanted to talk to you about something," Victor said, changing lanes. "I'm going to propose to Jeonghan."
You looked at him with surprise, your eyes gleaming. "And you want my blessing for it?" you teased.
"Since you and Noel are the closest thing Jeonghan has here to family, you could say that. I mean, you did play a pivotal part in our meeting," Victor explained.
"My, my, Victor, I'm flattered. Who knew you had a heart under all that muscle?" you joked, dramatically touching your chest.
He rolled his eyes and smiled. "Can you pretend you don't know for a bit? You know how Jeonghan gets when-"
"He's kept out of the loop," you finished the thought with a chuckle.
You both shared a laugh. "What about his parents?" you asked.
"Well, the last time I talked to his mother, she seemed happy," Victor said.
"And what about his father?"
Victor sighed and gave you a sad smile. "Well, that's a conversation best served with drinks."
"Have you guys talked about it?" you asked.
Victor nodded. "Yes, we've discussed it. He has his whole plan ready. But don't you think everybody deserves a proposal?"
You pondered his words for a moment, gazing out the window. With a small smile playing on your lips as you fiddled with your ring, you whispered, "Yes, everybody deserves a proposal." … It had been two weeks since Noel and you left, and there were moments when Jeonghan would start yelling for "El" to come down for something before he'd stop mid-sentence, remembering that you had left. Even though you'd been Facetiming regularly, adjusting to the old routine without you as a constant presence in his life was difficult. However, the joy Noel brought to both yours and Jeonghan's lives was undeniable, serving as a living reminder of the people you both held dear.
Victor had asked Leila to arrange a basket and took Jeonghan on a day trip to Lake Lungern. During the two-hour drive, Jeonghan's antsiness grew as he repeatedly asked, "Are we there yet?" Victor's patience was wearing thin.
As they approached their destination, Jeonghan's anticipation grew. "Oh, my Vicky, you didn't!" he exclaimed as he took in the stunning view. This place held sentimental value as it was where Jeonghan had taken them for their first date before it became a hotspot.
Victor was driving and couldn't drink, but he wouldn't have minded a glass of wine to calm his nerves. His heart raced, and he had cold sweats accumulating on the back of his neck. He finally brought out a blanket and a picnic basket.
Jeonghan commented, "Ah, ever since I came back from the post-doctoral program, I haven't had time to catch a break. Thank you, Vicky."
"Anything for you, Dr. Yoon," Victor replied.
"Please don't call me that in public," Jeonghan joked.
They laughed together, and Victor felt the love in the air as he looked at Jeonghan with adoration in his eyes.
After a moment, Victor cleared his throat. "Jeonghan, we need to talk."
Jeonghan's heart skipped a beat, fearing the worst. "Do you ever wonder where we'd be if we hadn't met at Y/N's office nine years ago?"
Jeonghan looked at Victor, then at his fingers, and shook his head. "No, not really. You?"
Victor stood up and walked towards the lake, surrounded by flowers. Jeonghan followed closely, waiting for his answer. Victor took a deep breath and began, "I've never felt the need to wonder, and even imagining a life without you terrifies me."
He turned to face Jeonghan and extended his hand. Jeonghan placed his hand in Victor's, listening intently.
Victor continued, "Yoon Jeonghan, meeting you made me realize what living feels like. You breathe life into my soul. My mother used to say that there are no accidents in life. Even the rustling of the leaves due to the wind is written in the stars before the seed of that tree came to exist. I used to think it was absurd, but now when I look at you, I thank the stars for aligning our fates. I want all your mornings and nights. I want the privilege of growing old with you. I want your rants and all your moods."
Jeonghan interjected, "I'll become more critical of some of your choices."
Victor chuckled and said, "Jeonghan, I will love you even if you become the next Karl Marx."
Jeonghan laughed, "No, thank you."
Victor continued, "You do what your heart desires, and I'll be rich for the both of us."
With those words, Victor took a platinum ring from his pocket and asked, "Dr. Yoon Jeonghan, will you marry me?"
Jeonghan's tears welled up, and he was overwhelmed by emotions. He'd rarely cried in the past, but watching the love of his life profess his love and commitment to him brought forth an unstoppable flow of tears.
He managed to joke through his tears, "Do we really need to involve the government in our relationship?"
Victor, with tears in his eyes, slipped the ring onto Jeonghan's finger. They shared a tight hug, foreheads touching, lost in their bubble of love as the sun set and made way for a new beginning.
Jeonghan admitted, "When you said we needed to talk, I thought you wanted to break up with me."
Victor replied, "I would question why you'd even think that, but right now, I just want to kiss you."
And so, as the sun set in the background, they kissed, sealing their love and commitment to one another.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Phew this took me FOUR days to write. I want to thank everyone who showed support and reminded me that just because something does not have a lot of admirers does not mean it is not worthy of love, time and effort. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter and meet you all with the next one.
xxx
MSH.
169 notes · View notes
intotheseas · 1 month
Text
Devil's Snare 🔞
2,930 words, explicit, smut, MDNI - Read here on AO3 or below the break. Happy Saturday! ❤️🔞
Tags: bondage, unprotected piv, praise kink, dominis, porn with feelings, plot what plot, consent, idiots in love, love confessions, finally they fuck, sexual tension, biting, slight choking, aged-up characters, devil's snare is totally a wingman in this, slight alterations to canon, just suspend your disbelief a little it's smut okay, one-shot
Summary: Ominis and Blaire return to Hogwarts eight years after graduation. She tells him about the rumoured Hidden Herbology Corridor, and maybe it's the nostalgia, maybe it's the tension that's built between them for ten years, maybe it's just magic, but they decide to find and explore it. Blaire, too distracted by the tension hanging in the air, finds herself trapped against the wall by the vines of Devil's Snare. What will happen next?
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Did I ever tell you about the time Duncan Hobhouse asked me to gather a Venomous Tentacula leaf?” Blaire giggles at the memory. Her long-time friend Ominis shakes his head, his brow creasing. Leaves rain on them from above in brilliant reds and oranges, drifting along the ground as a breeze kicks up. They’re sitting on a bench in front of the castle that was once their home, so many years ago. It feels nostalgic to be back, a little exciting, a little bittersweet. 
“Why on earth did he want you to do that?” He rests his elbows on his knees, tilts his head in her direction. They meet at least a few times per week, have for years, but somehow Blaire’s never told him this story. He’s always happy to hear her stories, though. When Blaire transferred to Hogwarts, she accomplished more in a single year than most students did in all seven and she never runs out of anecdotes.
And somehow she’d captured his attention then, involving him in all her wild adventures and exploration. He fell in love with her along the way, but never had the guts to confess his feelings. He loves her still, after all these years, but he doesn’t dare tell her. 
Their friendship is far too precious for them, especially after their best friend Sebastian Sallow disappeared. They hear word of him occasionally. Never from him, but from others. He’s a curse breaker, somewhere exotic. Ominis and Blaire think the guilt of what he did at the end of their fifth year was too much. Think it drove him across the world, eager to escape it all, even the people who supported him in the aftermath. 
It hurt, losing their best friend with no warning. But it brought them closer, too. They both interned at St Mungos, worked their way up and became respected Healers - Blaire, known for her skill with magical maladies and cure research, and Ominis known for his skill in healing injuries and diagnostics despite his blindness. 
Now, just after their twenty-fifth birthdays, they live comfortable lives in London. There will always be a hole where Sebastian vanished, and Ominis thinks he’ll always yearn for Blaire in ways he’ll never feel brave enough to admit, but they treasure their weird little friendship. The trip to Hogwarts transports them back to their late teenage years and the intense emotions that marked their lives then. It’s poignant, reconnecting with the ghosts of their pasts.
Ominis doesn’t know it, doesn’t dare to think it possible, but Blaire’s just as hopelessly in love with him as he is with her, and just as afraid of destroying their bond. He can’t see the way she gazes at him with longing, the way she bites her lip when his forearms flex, or when he stretches after a long shift. He just knows she’s never far, and that brings him more comfort than he could have ever hoped for. Sure, they’ve had flings with others, but nothing that ever lasted long. They’d never said as much, but no one ever measured up.
Blaire giggles again. “Well, remember how everyone used to call him ‘Puffskein Dunkein’? I’m pretty sure you were one of the main perpetrators of that ” Ominis can hear the smile in her voice. She always sounds so lovely when she smiles. He hears her long hair blowing back in the breeze, feels an urge to wrap her scarf more snugly around her.
“I remember,” he says, a grin of his own forming. Something about the nostalgia and crisp fall air is stoking a giddy, electric energy between them. “And I certainly called him that often. Little prat deserved it.” 
“Right! Well, he wanted me to go somewhere he called the ‘Hidden Herbology Corridor’ to collect a leaf, so people would think he was brave.” Blaire leans back against the bench, tilts her head to rest on Ominis’ shoulder. Little affectionate gestures like this have been their norm since seventh year. Little dangerous dances. “I told him he’d be better off learning how to be braver, instead of paying off students to fix his reputation.” 
Ominis laughs. “Always knew I liked you for a reason.” He freezes. Neither of them speak, and they decide to pretend it didn’t happen. That’s how it always is with them. Something in their thin veneer slips and they both assume it was a one-off, an accident. They always assume there’s no way it could mean what they hoped it meant.  
But something about the clear fall air, the echoes of their teenage selves…Blaire feels daring, like she wants to take some chances. “I never ended up checking it out, but…we could, if you wanted?” 
He raises his eyebrows. “Is your return to Hogwarts making you want to relive your glory days?” 
She shrugs. “Why not? I mean, for all we know, it doesn’t even exist.” 
Ominis is cottoning on to the buzz in the air. “Sure, why not? You’ll have to lead the way, of course.” He holds out an arm. She tucks it against her side, relishing his closeness. Her skirt flutters in the breeze as they set off.
They wander through the grounds, navigating based on Blaire’s memory alone and encounter a thick wall of ivy. Blaire squints at it. Its placement is odd, like it’s hiding something. “Hey Ominis, I’m going to make some fire, okay?”
He backs up. Ominis is more than used to her proclivity for fire magic, a gift imparted on her by Sebastian. He feels a gust of warmth and hears the crackle of burning plants, followed by Blaire’s triumphant cry. 
“I think I found it! You ready for an adventure?” Her voice quivers just a little, and she latches back onto his arm. 
“After you,” he says. “Do be careful. I’m off the clock and I’d rather not have to treat you if you injure yourself.” His tone is teasing. He’s treated every injury of hers he’s known of over the years, and she’s done the same for them. It’s just what they do, without question. 
The burnt ivy scratches at them as they pass through and arrive at a large, ornate door, wooden with iron embellishments. Blaire pushes it open with some effort and the scent of greenery mixed with mustiness washes over them. It’s dim, the only light coming from the occasional hole in the ceiling, metres above them. The space is cavernous. No one seems to have visited in years. 
Blaire tucks herself closer to Ominis, relishing his body heat in the cold, draughty corridor. She shivers, from fear, from cold, from something else entirely. Neither of them admit it, but traipsing down a mysterious corridor together only heightens the strange tension buzzing between them. Nostalgia is a powerful drug. 
“Think there’s anything valuable here?” Blaire breaks the heavy silence. 
“What, first you want an adventure and now you fancy a bit of treasure hunting? You covert little thief. What am I going to do with you, Blaire?” His voice is lower than usual, a little husky. He doesn’t quite know what’s come over him. Maybe it’s the nostalgia, maybe it’s the creepy corridor filled with danger, but he’s feeling more forward than usual. Something intoxicating sings through his blood. 
Blaire shifts away from him, his tone sending a shiver through her core. Uh oh . She hadn’t expected this sort of tension, but they don’t have many opportunities to be alone, either. Their meetings always occur in public, like they both know they’d fall together if others weren’t around to keep them in check. Gotta distract myself , she thinks, and creeps further into the corridor. 
Despite her best efforts, her mind wanders to dangerous places, and in her haze, she doesn’t notice the mass of black vines to her left. Doesn’t notice until one loops around her wrist, pulls her back against the wall. 
“Ah-!” Blaire gasps as more vines appear and snake around her ankles and calves. She struggles, but the vines grip even tighter. Devil’s Snare , she remembers. She isn’t sure if the feeling in her gut is dread or arousal.
“Blaire?! What’s happening? Are you all right?” Ominis’ wand waves red trails through the air as he tries to locate her. 
Blaire’s heartbeat thumps under her flimsy blouse. The vines have wrapped around both wrists and ankles, up to her calves. She’s trapped against the wall. She knows if she struggles, she’ll just become more helpless. The thought sends heat pooling between her thighs, has her thinking maybe she wants to struggle. 
She whimpers. “I’m, uh…a little tied up?” The vines have her in a very compromised position. They’ve spread her arms at her sides, forced her ankles wide apart. Her back arches, pulls the thin material of her button-up blouse taut against her chest. 
Ominis draws near, but trips over a vine, drops his wand. “Fuck,” he mutters. He reaches out with his hands, follows Blaire’s whimpers. He tries to ignore how tight his pants have become. The sounds she’s making are utterly sinful and he’s never wanted her more, but he needs to help her. Focus , he chides himself. 
Her whines grow closer, bordering on moans. Ominis can’t stop thinking how positively filthy it sounds. She must be terrified, and yet he’s thinking with his cock. You’re despicable, he tells himself. Finally, his hands make contact with Blaire. He feels the silk of her shirt, gasps as his fingers ghost over the curve of her waist. He apologises, but her breathing only becomes more shallow, more desperate as he pulls away. 
“....Blaire?” 
She whines. “Ominis? Please don’t stop touching me.” Her entire body is on fire, her nerves screaming with want. “The vines have me immobilised. Um…I want…” She can’t say it, not after ten years of friendship. She moans, begging him in her mind to sense her desire, her face scarlet. 
Ominis’ breathing is ragged. Sure, he’s imagined himself with her countless times. Regularly. She’s his favourite fantasy. He’s stroked his cock, rutted into his hand thinking of her soft fragrant hair, her smooth skin, her curves for years, various erotic daydreams centred around her playing through his mind. But he never imagined anything like this.
His head is foggy. Too foggy. He can’t think straight, can only think of pressing his mouth to her neck, drawing out more of those pretty little moans… fuck . “Blaire,” he gasps. “I…I’m having some trouble focusing.” His hand lingers on her waist, then moves on its own, trailing up her side, skirting around the curve of her breasts, settling around her neck with utmost care…Merlin, he’s never wanted anything more in his life. 
And now she’s here, tied up like a present for him. 
Blaire can’t take it anymore. She needs him, needs his touch. “Please, Ominis. I…I’m begging you to touch me. I want you.” Her voice is almost a whisper.
Something snaps in his mind at those words, that desperate tone. His proper façade wears thin. She wants him? Finds herself tangled up in some vines and now she’s eager to give herself up? Who is he to deny her? His grip around her neck tightens.
He pats his other hand up her body, following the curve at her waist, sliding up to her cheek. “You want this, Blaire? Trapped by Devil’s Snare and you want me to touch you? Do you want me to fuck you? Goodness, I never knew you were so filthy.” He’s a centimetre away from her face, their breath mixing together. 
She cries out, arching toward him, desperate for contact. “Please ,” she begs, the word drawn out like a desperate prayer.
Ominis crashes his lips into hers. His kiss is needy, desperate. It’s over 8 years of pent up desire. She moans against him, her mouth open, and he slips his tongue against hers, moves his hand down to knead her breasts. This won’t do, he thinks. He deftly undoes each button, pulls the material aside. A delicate lacy brassiere separates her from him and he cannot stand it. He reaches around and yanks at the clasp till it falls apart, pulls the brassiere up and over her, tucking it behind her head. 
Blaire writhes, the vines tighten more and she gasps in ecstasy.  
“You’re such a filthy girl,” he murmurs against her ear. “On display for me, and you love it…” He fondles her breasts, rolls her nipples between his long fingers, nipping at her neck. His mouth leaves a trail of marks, leading down and over her chest, finally capturing a nipple in his mouth. He bites down, none of his usual gentleness present and she keens, her voice echoing off the walls of the corridor. 
Ominis yanks her skirt down and rips her panties off, discarding them for a future explorer to find. “I’m going to ask you one last time, Blaire. Do you want this?” His hand brushes against her pussy, marvelling at its slickness and heat. 
She answers by arching herself against his fingers, coating them, desperately searching for friction. 
Ominis moans, a deep, guttural sound. That was the point of no return. He slips his coated fingers into her mouth and she sucks on them as if it’s the loveliest thing in the world. Anything to please him, anything to have more. “My good girl,” he moans. “You’re so fucking lovely.” He undoes his belt and pulls down his pants and underclothes. His cock springs free and he wastes no time grinding it against her slick pussy. It isn’t long until he’s coated in her, the very thought obliterating any remaining hesitation.  
She whines, the friction driving her mad. “Please Ominis, I’m begging you, please, I need you inside me, please make me yours. I can’t take it any longer.” She grinds against his cock, and the vines pull her in tighter, slithering and coiling up from her wrists to her shoulders. She whines in frustration, in need.
He nips at her neck again, his bites turning sharp. “Such a desperate, eager girl…” He grinds his cock against her entrance slowly, torturously. She can’t move at all now, her upper half held flush against the wall, her lower half angled toward him like an invitation, her legs spread just for him. 
He lines his tip up against her entrance; the heat radiating from her drawing stuttering gasps from his lips. He pauses, dragging his tongue along the shell of her ear. “Want to know something?” he asks. 
She cries out. “Anything,” she begs. 
He sinks into her in one fluid motion, whispers into her ear. “You’re mine.” His voice is commanding yet sweet, and she moans as he fills her completely. 
The vines creep up her thighs, spreading her legs further apart as he moves inside her. His thrusts are deep and rough, rutting against her. Her oversensitive clit throbs at the new friction with every thrust as he holds nothing back. He fucks her like he wants to drive her into the wall, like this might be the only chance he gets.
“Oh Blaire, I’ve wanted to make you mine for so long. You’re so fucking tight, so good at taking my cock, sweetheart. Merlin, you feel perfect, such a good girl, my good girl.” He groans a stream of praise into her ear as he fucks her harder, each of them careening toward release. 
She’s lost in utter ecstasy, her mind fuzzy and drunk. There’s nothing but his cock driving into her and the vines pulling against her. She stutters out moans as each thrust rubs against her clit, driving her maddeningly close. 
She moans his name as her pussy throbs around him, whispers how much she wants him, how perfect he feels, how wonderful he is.
He feels her walls clench, hard, and bites down on her shoulder as he empties himself inside her. Their moans tangle and combine, gasping through their peaks and coming down as one. They pant together, and he kisses her face as they float back to reality.
“My wand,” Blaire whispers. “In my skirt pocket.” 
Ominis leans down, fishes it out. He murmurs “lumos” and “accio wand" and the vines release her, sending her forward into his arms, and his own wand back into his hand. He holds her gently, reverently, kissing every bite mark he left. 
She holds onto him, fearing if they break apart it’ll all end. 
“Ominis-”
“I love you,” he interrupts. “I have for years.” 
She pants against his chest, still catching her breath. “And so have I.” They laugh together in disbelief and awe. 
He dresses her slowly, peppering her with kisses along the way. Little I love yous, marked into her skin. When they exit the corridor, the bright sun sears Blaire’s eyes. Brilliantly coloured leaves dance around them in the breeze, and it seems to whisper its approval. 
“Ominis…do you think we were meant to come here?” 
He laughs. “In which way?”
She flushes, at a loss for words, and he takes pity on her. “Yes, I do. I’ve loved you for years and I’d like to keep loving you for years to come. Where else would we discover that?” A thought flashes through his mind: if he ever sees Duncan Hobhouse, he’ll have to thank him for giving them the courage to finally stop dancing around each other. He whispers this to Blaire, and the irony makes them laugh as they walk down the leaf-lined path, hand in hand. 
83 notes · View notes
nightingale2004 · 1 month
Text
Severus Snape daughter headcanons
Slytherin all the way.
There was a debate with the sorting hat between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, but the hat landed on Slytherin
Severus taught her German and Russian
Has a pet cat
Was taught how to brew potions as a child
Skilled in occlumency and legilimens
Severus would've definitely taught her some fight moves he learned from Tobias to defend herself along with defense spells to protect herself if necessary (one of the rare good things Tobias did for Severus)
I feel his daughter would have a photographic memory
If his daughter was born before the war, then she would've met Regulus as a baby but didn't know a lot about him other than what Narcissa, Lucius, and her father told her (all good things)
Growing up, Severus didn't tell her a lot of his past, but every time she was in the Malfoy's care or Charity and Aurora's care, they would tell her all the embarrassing school stories of Severus (Severus would neither confirm or deny the stories) but they leave out the marauders of their stories (she knows about them, they always let it slip during their stories)
Educated in both the wizarding and muggle world
She definitely inherited the famous Severus glare and sharp tongue
Middle is Eileen, and Severus talks about his mother sometimes but not much
She would definitely be a bookworm
Similar to Severus, she would have an interest in potions and DADA
She and Draco would have definitely seen each other as siblings from their parents
I feel like she would be respectful and nice to house elves and would hate the abuse they face (she scolds her uncle Lucius about hurting Dobby every time she sees it)
Her and Hermione would have a school rivalry since they are both the smartest girls in their houses. But they respect each other and their intellect
If wolfstar had a child or children, then you can count on some bad blood between them (who knows... maybe an enemies to lovers)
Severus and McGonagall taught her how to dance (quite fabulously, if I may add 👌💃)
Sees Minerva as a grandmother figure (you can't tell me that McGonagall wouldn't lover her as her own)
If she had an Animagus form, it would be a cat or Raven
Her Patronus would be a bat or a cat
Has respect for the Weasley twins but will not hesitate to turn their pranks against them if it's aimed at her father, Draco, or herself
Likes Molly and Arthur but has notes on their parenting
She and Ron like playing wizard chess with each other (she beats him every time, and Ron always wants a rematch)
I feel like she would be a bit relatable to Stiles Stilinski (has ADHD, OCD, A LOT of sarcasm, and is stubborn. Wonder where she gets that from) "I mean no. Do you want to hear it in German? Nein". "I'm 140 pounds of pale skin and fragile bone, ok? Sarcasm and magic are my ONLY defense."
I feel like a lot of people would be afraid of her because she is Severus's daughter
She and Luna, I feel would get along because of her creative mind and unique way of seeing the world (she would also scare off Luna's bullies)
She makes her own spells, potions, and magical objects (mad scientist mode)
Not a big fan of quidditch but supports Draco
Brains of the operation
Hates Sirius on sight and is OK Remus.
She will not hesitate to hex or murder Sirius if he continues to insult her family (she is very difficult to restrain)
Feels like Harry's babysitter for always helping him survive on his adventures
She knows Remus when she was young due to his visits to her home to pick up his supply of wolfsbane from her father (so she knows he's a werewolf)
Often scold Draco if his insults go too far.
If her dad was a part of the death eaters and she was told, she would be shocked, upset, and angry but if he told her about the double agent part then she would be more worried for him
All I got so far. Enjoy my lovelies
85 notes · View notes
plainemmanem · 2 years
Note
meeting steve’s parents for the first time and he gives you the little “ok so my parents are crazy” talk LOL
st-steve in his little winter vest and- and mittens and a silly winter hat sniffle sniffle
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You didn’t grow up in Hawkins. To you, the “Upside Down” was just a spooky bedtime story Dustin told around the campfire. To you, Starcourt Mall was merely a burnt shell, a memory reduced to rubble and ash.
To you, “King Steve” was just a punchline between Nancy and Robin. 
The Steve you met was a nerd. Sweet and handsome, but still a total nerd. 
The first time you walked into Family Video, he nearly knocked down an endcap display on his way to come talk to you. 
His opening line was “New in town?” with a suave smirk and an awkward lean on the shelf beside you – a few tapes met the ground and he immediately shot you that adorably sheepish look as he scrambled to pick them up. 
Ever since then you were hooked. 
“Trust me, you do not wanna experience the Harrington family holiday, okay. Don’t wanna scare you off…” 
There used to be a little voice in the back of your mind feeding into your fears: that you were Steve’s dirty, little secret, that he didn’t actually want you to meet his parents, that you weren’t good enough for him. But, over time, you picked up on the little things. Little hints that he didn’t have the typical nuclear family.
The nonchalant segues anytime his mom was mentioned, the constant empty house, the lack of childhood stories or family anecdotes. The aloof response when you ask what trip his parents were on this time; “No idea” with a little shrug and a reassuring squeeze to your thigh. 
Robin had mentioned it once, but never in great detail. Something vague about them being “distant” and “cold,” hinting at something a little deeper. But it wasn’t really her place to tell you. 
Anytime you asked Steve, it always struck a nerve. He’d given you bits and pieces – mentions of forgotten birthdays and tense dinners – but you never really got the full extent of it. The truth was always hidden behind an indifferent laugh and a biting joke, tone blasé. Your heart ached for him. 
“Yeah, well, my mom didn’t even know I was allergic to peas until I was five, so… Maybe that’s where I get my remarkable observation skills.”
 You never wanted to pry, but you wanted him to know that you were there if he ever wanted to talk about it. 
If he could have, Steve would have skipped the Christmas dinner all together. A sad microwave dinner at home still sounded more enjoyable than whatever scathing remarks his parents inevitably had planned for him.
Last year, it was his decision to skip college. This year, it would be his dazzling new job at Family Video. As if Steve didn’t already feel inadequate enough. 
Dinner at your place was obviously his first choice, but his parents had been passive aggressively hounding him for weeks to bring his new girlfriend over, and what better time than Christmas Eve? 
Steve’s dread was obvious when he stopped you in the kitchen last week.
“Hey, uh. Could I- um. Could I talk to you for a second?” He was fussing with the apple in his hands deftly as he leaned against the counter across from you.
“Oh god, am I in trouble? Did I forget to grab you something at the store, I could’ve sworn I got everything-” “No,” he chuckled a little at your concern, his face falling quickly after, eyes finding the floor. “No, it’s not that.”
His fidgeting was only getting worse and his gaze wouldn’t leave his feet as he spiraled in his own thoughts. You take a step towards him, rubbing a hand up his arm reassuringly. 
“What’s on your mind, Stevie?” Your heart clenched when his gaze met yours; he looked unsure, troubled, before hanging his head again, toe of his shoe scuffing yours and fingers playing with the hem of your jacket intuitively.
“Well, my, uh… My parents were coming home for the holidays and they wanted me to have Christmas dinner with them…” He was talking more to your feet, but you could hear the exasperation hidden behind his attempt at nonchalance. 
An understanding hum left you. Him mentioning his parents was a rarity, and you truthfully didn’t know how to react. 
He met your gaze again, tentative as he nibbled slightly on his lower lip. 
“Can you please go with me,” his meek tone took you by surprise. “I really don’t wanna go alone.” 
You had never seen your boyfriend so vulnerable. Like a light gust of wind might knock him over. He looked tired, like he had been pacing all night rather than sleeping, wrestling with his thoughts.
You immediately said yes, of course. Honestly, you could never say no to him, especially when he asked so gently, so helplessly.
The drive to the Harrington’s was quiet. An unspoken tension thickened the air, the soft music over the radio only enhancing the stuffiness of the car. 
Steve was fussing with his bottom lip and white-knuckling the wheel, only loosening his grip to run an anxious hand through his hair and adjust his rearview mirror neurotically. You were contemplating pressing him, but you knew he was on edge, the impending doom of his parents a mere six blocks away.
This was it. You were really going. 
Steve’s neighborhood was beautiful. Pristine, white houses lined the streets, covered in a blanket of fluffy, white snow. To you, it looked like a Christmas card. To Steve, it looked like death row.
Each house had unique, tasteful lights strung along the rafters. Some even had flickering candles in the windows or wreaths on the door. They blurred past as Steve drove, one by one, a flicker of light on a white canvas, then gone. Eventually, your eyes started to glaze over, all the houses starting to blend together in a mush of picturesque suburbia. 
Gradually, the houses begin to pass by slower, the details becoming clearer as the car rolls to a stop. 
Turning questioningly to Steve, you catch him already looking at you, aching to speak. His fingers tap once, twice, three times anxiously on the steering wheel before the words finally come.
“I just want to warn you.” He’s holding his breath, afraid to continue. “Well, you may already know, I mean, I’ve definitely mentioned it before – not in too many words, but we’ve definitely talked about it, and, ya know, you’re really smart so I wouldn’t be surprised if you already pieced it all together-”
You cut him off with a hand on his arm, a gentle rub, before moving up to his neck. Your fingers run soothingly through the hairs at the nape, eyes scanning his face – his knitted brows, his bitten lips, his wrinkled forehead. 
“Steve, take a breath. What’s wrong?” You try to sound casual, calming, reassuring, but it probably sounds more concerned than anything else. 
The air is tense, and Steve seems to be searching your eyes for the courage to continue. 
“Well, my parents are kind of… weird.” He doesn’t blink, too focused on reading each of your tiny microexpressions to notice. You can see him biting the inside of his cheek and you catch his eyes flicker with a touch of something: Panic? Fear? It’s hard to tell. 
Trying to suppress your own anxieties, you muster up a warm smile.
“Steve.” An airy laugh passes through your lips. “Everyone’s parents are weird. Trust me, I’ve definitely come prepared.” 
He grimaces a fraction, breaking eye contact, before looking back at you pressingly. 
“No, like… My parents are really weird.” His eyes go wide as he tries to exaggerate his point. 
“Ok… Well, what kind of weird are we talking about here?” 
A sigh leaves him. He’s never been able to make it past this part. He looks to the middle of your neck, collecting his thoughts, before starting again.
“Well… In my twenty years of life, I think my mom has told me ‘I love you’ maybe, like… once? When I was a kid or something.” His eyes flicker to yours, then back to your neck. His gaze glazes over, thinking. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard my dad say it.” 
 A burning crept up your throat. You can feel the horrified expression on your face.
You croak softly. “What-?”
But he’s already cutting you off.
“And they’re very passive aggressive. And they don’t really acknowledge other people’s accomplishments if they can help it.” He’s come back to himself a little; he still can’t meet your eyes, but he’s turned back to the wheel, starting the car up once again, his hands moving in tune with his words. “Oh- and they don’t really listen. Well, like, obviously they listen, but they don’t like listen listen if you know what I mean. It’s like they’re just kind of waiting for you to finish talking so that they can speak. Oh, and just a warning, my mom is a terrible cook, so don’t expect five star dining-”
“Steve, pull over.” The words are cold, serious, unyielding. 
“Wh-What?” He’s immediately frantic, stealing anxious glances at you as he starts pulling off to the side of the road once again. “Shit, I scared you, didn’t I? Fuck, I’m sorry. We can go home- I can drive you home?” He’s giving you that concerned, fearful look as he puts the car in park, turning to check in on you.
There’s a beat of silence, a moment of insecurity, before you turn to face him.
Warm hands cup his cheeks. Eyes remaining serious, you give him the softest, most loving look you can. “I’m sorry they treated you like that.” 
The words suck all the air from the car, and Steve can’t stand your gaze, looking down shyly, mumbling mostly to himself.
“No, I mean, it’s no big deal, it’s over now…”
Leaning over the center console, you pull him in for a soft kiss. It’s probably the gentlest kiss you’ve ever given him, and the tenderness of it makes Steve’s eyes lock with yours.
“They never should have treated you that way. It’s not ok. No one should be treated like that by their own parents. You, of all people, should not have been treated like that. You are the kindest, most caring person I know. You are not your parents. You’re better than they will ever be, ok?”
Eyes misty, he gives you a little nod in your hands, gaze flickering across your face from the intensity of it all. His hands cuff around your wrists and give a slight squeeze – a silent understanding, a thank you. 
“I’m here with you.” Your voice was barely a whisper; the words only for him. “We’re gonna do this together, ok? I don’t want you to worry about me, I can take shitty parents. I want to make sure you’re ok. You just say the word and we’ll leave. We’ll drive back to my house or a motel or something, but you do not have to stay any longer than you’re comfortable. You don’t owe them anything.” A few chestnut strands fall over his forehead, and your hand leaves his cheek just long enough to swipe them back, scanning his face, hoping to get some sort of read on his expression. 
Languidly, he peaks up at you, eyes a little glassy, holding in his emotion. 
He looks so broken. So shattered. 
You know no one has ever told him this before. 
With no words left, you give him a small nod, and he returns it with a small sniffle. Trailing up your wrists to your hands, he grabs each one and brings them to his lap, rubbing the backs pensively with his thumbs. A squeeze, then he’s pulling you into his side. His cologne envelopes you as a small kiss lands on your temple. 
He holds you a moment, breathing you in, before turning back to the wheel and putting the car in drive, keeping a vice grip on your hand the whole rest of the way. 
1K notes · View notes