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#n the style is very light which is good for someone bad at reading (me)
ancientgoddessofegypt · 2 months
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What Do People Like About You? Pick A Pile Reading. Groups (1-5)
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What do people like about you? Pick a pile 1-5 Left (1-3) Right (2-4) Bottom (5)
PILE 1 - 'THE LEADER, THE STAR, THE ORACLE'
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Your a star! You have a strong aura and people flow right to it. You have an energy to you that inspires me to do more. Others are motivated and inspired by not just your work ethnic, but the power you contain and how you easily express yourself. You don't care about what the next person is thinking. You just do it!
What you need to know? Proving to others that you're the shit does not need to happen! Others can be intimidated and will try you pull you down just so they can pull themselves up. It's okay, your ship won't take because another individual couldn't look into the mirror. Let it go. Be yourself. You're magic.
Signs - Aries, Leo, Aquarius, Libra , Capricorn Placements.
Animals - Monkeys, Swans, Parrots, Butterflies.
PILE 2 - ' HOPE. A DREAMER. THE MYSTIC'.
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Your aura is magnifying. Hypnotizing. Eccentric. People gawk at you from afar, even when you're not noticing. Angels & Spirit guides are all around you're aura n' people take a liking to your energy. You just have this mystifying presence and you could also be really good at knowing/seeing things others typically wouldn't find out. Which makes you quite interesting. You have this quiet cool persona, very jazzy, stay out the way type of person. But listen, we see you ok? Could be an artist or someone who's very soft in your personality but very cute and open to conversation.. when they wanna be! <3
What you need to know? Best believe we love what you got on!!!! Your outfits, your style, makeup, jewelry girl EVERYTHINGGG looks good on you! You just have it going on ok? So don't feel bad and stop nitpicking at yourself!!! K? <33
Signs - Scorpio, Pisces, Cancer, Taurus, Gemini Placements.
Animals - Frogs, Cattle, Kittens, Shrimp.
PILE 3 - 'THE SUCCESS, THE MOTIVATOR, THE ONE WHO GOT IT ALL!'
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You're a dream come true to people. People LOVE you because you are a powerhouse. You put a lot of effort into getting where you are and you enjoy putting the work in. Even when its hard, you don't quit. You have this powerful energy that brings people to there knees, and forces them to look within and find ways to do better. Beyonce Energy. You have the perfect smile and you radiate warmth.
What you need to know? Choose yourself. Don't let everyone into your space. People can be users at this time, especially because they know they could benefit off of you. If you be quiet about some of the things you possess, or any wins you make early on, the better the flow & the blessings. Choose yourself. Repeat it to yourself. Your energy is not to be toyed with. Be open to more companions this era! You're the hottest thing out right now mami ;)
Signs - Virgo, Leos, Taurus, Libra Placements.
Animals - Chickens, Lions, Bears, Tigers.
PILE 4 - 'THE ILLUMINATOR. THE SHINER. THE SUN.'
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You are the moment. The world truly revolves around you, doesn't it? People like to be around your presence, it just makes them glow more when their around you. You're like Regina George, its the aura. Not that your a mean girl, but I mean... you could be! You get your way a lot, or you can make a way when there isn't one. People like you because your vibe gives them a sense of familiarity and you just feel good to the spirit. You could be very popular or aspire to be. People know of you before you even think of them or meet them for yourself. Could have a lot of stalkers especially people who watch you verrrrry often on social media. Your light is just amazing, so I can't blame them.
What you need to know? You have a dark power to you. The one that magnetizes anything it touches. You could be a celebrity if you wanted, don't hide from the spotlight. You've got a gift that could need tuning, but you're learning to accept yourself because this is what people need and they LOVE it. Have a blessed day!
Signs - Sagittarius, Virgos, Leo, Scorpio, Cancer, Aquarius Placements.
Animals - Bats, Moose, Tigers, Black Cats, Elephants, Ants.
PILE 5 - 'THE ORIGINATOR. THE ONE WHO STARS IT ALL.'
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You're aura is sensational. People take to you because of your unique qualities you possess. You're not for everybody, and nor do you try to be. You have a healing presence that some people it kind of shocks them, they can't help but to fall in love or to hate. No in between. It's very interesting really. People like you because you're energy is a gift. Its highly valuable. Some people like you from a distant because they know they couldn't 'keep' you or something about you is too much for them. OR they feel is though they aren't enough for you. You have a very strong aura and can push boundaries easily and people like you for how bold you are. You shake shit up even when the earthquake is already starting its power trip. You're a force of nature.
What you need to know? You have a gift that needs to be nurtured. You we're brought to earth to follow your dreams, and focus on the desired path. Your energy is in need of a shift and you should cut out any foods and drink that isn't serving the body good. Be more open to physical activity, and go slow with it. I see something totally different from the usual workout routines and such. Find something that feels like 'you'. Hope this helps :)
Signs - Geminis, Aquarius, Leos Placements <3
Animals - Lizards, Goats, Owls, Dolphins, Sea Creatures. <3
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chunksworld · 1 year
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Behind Closed Doors
IVE Yujin x Male Reader | (Tags: Smut) | fuckbuddy!Yujin
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A/N 1: I am down astronomically bad for her. Thank you @kaedespicelatte as always for beta reading this piece.
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“Come on, let’s go out tonight! Drinks are on me.”
You should’ve turned her down then, when all she had in her system was a glass of champagne from the after party, when she still isn’t as possessive as she is right now—arms wrapped tightly around yours as she tries, and fails, to make her way back to the dorms. You should have remembered just how much of a lightweight Ahn Yujin is, and how it could spell trouble for you for the rest of this lovely night. Another rookie of the year award bagged, another round of partying, and another night spent with her. It truly is the most wonderful time of the year.
“Hmm you look good today.”
Even just a drop of alcohol turns her into the most dangerous woman on the planet—and with the dress she’s wearing that hugs her curves tightly, it takes every ounce of self-control not to make any moves that could jeopardize your friendship with her. Not even when she presents those inviting lips that makes you just want to drag her to a narrow alley and fuck her senseless. Not even when that intoxicating scent of hers makes her even more alluring than she already is. 
Are you even just friends? The countless sexual encounters with her proves otherwise—from quickies in the practice room to full-on sexual escapades in her bedroom, you two have done it all.
A partnership forged by her desire to alleviate the stress that comes with being the leader of the most popular group in the nation has led to quite an interesting relationship with her, a relationship that you didn’t even think would exist.
“Y-Yah why are we walking so slowly!” 
In fear of being recognized, you opted to walk her home instead of taking a cab; which might have been a bad idea considering her dorm is two miles away and carrying an albeit light woman who is constantly trying to grind up on you is not exactly what you need—maybe you should have just accepted Wonyoung’s assistance. And considering that you’re just as shitfaced at this very moment, your fuse is infinitesimally small. “Can you just stay still, Yujinnie?”
There’s no use arguing when she’s breathing down your neck, sending chills down your spine as you attempt to give her a piggyback ride. You grab onto her thighs as she wraps her arms around your neck  and the moan she releases into your ears is only urging you throw all decorum away—not that you had any in the first place. If everyone just knew how much she bends to your will during every encounter, if only they knew just how lucky you are to have such an experience with her.
Sensing your distress, she laughs; a sultry laugh that only makes it that much harder to maintain composure. God, she really knows how to manipulate you. “Ohhh looks like someone is angry.” Then you feel her lips hovering near your ears; those damn, tempting lips. “Had a little bit too much to drink tonight, sweetie?” Look who’s talking. You shiver as you feel her softly nibble on your earlobe, wandering hands exploring your body as she tightens her hold around you. It’s a battle of who can keep their cool the longest and she’s clearly on the winning side.
“Can’t wait for you to fuck me hard once when we get back.” Maybe it’s the fact that this whole friends-with-benefits ordeal with her has been going on for a year now, but she sure knows how to push your buttons. But you’re not exactly doing anything to stop her, in fact you love it. Who else can say that they get to have sex with Ahn Yujin regularly? “I know I’ll definitely be screaming for that cock of yours.”
“Yujin…..”
She dismisses your words like the wind, a hand slowly creeping down towards your pants. How pathetic, you already have a bulge and you haven’t even fucked her yet. “What position are we gonna try this time? Missionary? That’s boring. Doggy style? That’s too basic. Maybe you eat my pussy while I suck your dick, hmm?”
You almost stumble forward but you fortunately save yourself in time before you end up faceplanting on the sidewalk. The imagery Yujin places inside your brain is enough to cause it to go haywire. But you must remain firm, any advantage given to her will only boost her already inflated ego. “Just shut the fuck up, will you?”
“The only way that happens is if you stuff my mouth full of that dick. Look how hard you are for me.” She doesn’t stop fondling your clothed length, as if the fact that other people can clearly see the sinful things she’s doing urges her even more. “I can already imagine it hitting the back of my throat. Or hitting my cervix while you pound me from behind.” A groan as she gives your clothed bulge a squeeze. “God, you’re so big.”
You grit your teeth, knowing that any words that come out of your mouth will encourage her even more. But your silence doesn’t stop her, continuing to whisper the dirtiest things right into your ear as you make the treacherous walk back to the dorms. Nothing she did made the trip easy nor the fact that you became more and more drunk as time passed by—almost falling to the side multiple times as she just laughed at you. Are you really going to endure such things just to get in her pants?
The obvious answer is yes. Otherwise you would have just called a cab like you should’ve and dropped her off before making your way home. But instead here you are, struggling to press the combination to her dorms as she somehow made herself heavier. Your legs are aching and trembling, your dick has been painfully trapped inside your pants for the past hour; at this point you’d want nothing but to vent out your frustration.
Forget the fact that all of the other members are deep in their slumber, crash your lips into hers as soon as the door is shut. The taste of whatever alcoholic concoction she consumed lingers on her lips, those plump lips that have been teasing you for the past few hours. Thankfully you’ve memorized the outline of her dorm to be able to maneuver the two of you to her bedroom in complete darkness—though not without bumping into some furniture in the way.
Thank goodness Yujin’s bedroom walls are soundproof because she releases a moan so loudly that the other members definitely would’ve heard by now. But it’s not like the two of you would’ve cared anyways—she’ll loudly proclaim to anyone how good you fuck her. She pulls you immediately into another kiss as soon as you enter the room, this time it’s filled with even more passion and lust. Fuck, you can’t get enough of her and tonight, you’re going to have your fill of her. And based on the look on her eyes, she’s dying to do the same.
She grabs onto the collars of your dress shirt while your hands fumble with the zipper on the back of her dress, trying your hardest to focus on the task while she moves down to your neck and proceeds to leave kisses there. “Shit, we’re gonna have such a good time tonight.” You’re definitely sure that she left hickeys that will definitely have to be covered by tomorrow but you don’t care at the moment. Not when you’ve finally undressed her, leaving her in black lingerie as the flimsy dress pools at her feet. Your eyes immediately scan her body, from her plentiful cleavage; her toned abs; her thick thighs; and her ridiculously long legs that you just want wrapped around your body.
A knowing smile from her as she can see your yearning eyes scanning her perfectly sculpted body—she’s got you right where she wants you to be. She knows that it only takes one little thing to piss you off and for you to end up right here inside her bedroom once again. “My eyes are up here, oppa.” But you are far in too deep, her intense aura captivating you to no end and with nowhere else to go. 
A devilish smirk from Yujin, then a lip bite as she works on unbuttoning your dress shirt while you work on taking off the rest of your clothing—soon you are only left in your boxers but before she could take it off, you push her onto the bed. With how much teasing she’s done to you tonight, it’s time for you to get a little revenge. And perhaps, a taste of her.
You urge her to move further up the bed before diving in towards those lips again. This time swirling your tongue around hers as you give her clothed breasts a gentle squeeze. Whimpers and moans vibrate in your mouth as you move your hands further down from her tight stomach down to her heavenly thighs. Eventually, you have to pull away from the kiss to recover your breath. “I’ve had it enough with you. I’m gonna fuck you till you can’t walk.”
“Good, then you’re gonna have to explain to Gaeul unnie and the rest of the girls why I’ll be stuck in my room all day. How’s that?” She cups your length through your boxers and it makes you jump. Then that moment of vulnerability allows her to pull down your boxers and you shiver as cold air meets your fully erect cock, precum already dripping out. “I don’t think either one of us wants that to happen. Right, oppa?”
She leaves you speechless. Either because she looks absolutely stunning under the warm lights of her bedroom or the fact that the alcohol has completely taken over your system. But as she slowly wraps her dainty fingers around your cock, the only thing you can do is groan in pleasure. You need her more than anything else, an addiction that you’ll gladly suffer from for the rest of your life.
“Y-Yujin, shit…”
“Hmm, what was that? I can’t hear what you’re saying.” Then she begins to stroke your length at a delicately slow pace, causing you to fall back on the bed and for her to be the one on top now. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. The sensory overload she provides leaves you breathless and scrambling. “You’re gonna have to speak louder, oppa.”
As if to punish you, she begins to stroke you faster, even spitting on your cock to lubricate her hand. But it’s hard to focus on anything other than just how stunning she looks in her bra and panties—even more so without them. A body seemingly sculpted by the gods and only yours to see. Fuck, you can’t wait to explore more of her.
Just the thought makes your cock throb in her hand and she could feel it, making her stroke you even faster. “Yujin, please!”
“Please what?” She then begins to move her face towards your length and the angle allows you to get a glimpse of her breasts and it’s causing your brain to go haywire even further. “You’ve gotta tell me what you want, oppa.”
And as much as you hate giving in to what she wants, you have no choice but to swallow your pride and oblige. It’s not like this was going to end any other way. You take a deep breath before giving her a pleading look. How truly pathetic. “Just suck my cock, please.”
Then she flashes that signature, bright smile of hers and for a split second you see the idol side of her. Though that mirage only last for a fleeting moment as you are quickly reminded of how much she changes during sex. “Good. I’ve been wanting to taste this dick the entire night. How could you make me wait, hmm?” She strokes your length for a few more times before hastily taking your cock inside her mouth. No time to get used to it, this isn’t her first rodeo and neither is it yours. Lean your head back in pleasure as uncontrolled moans and groans escape your mouth.
Yujin’s trained gag reflex along with the added lubrication allows her to take you all the way in easily, switching back and forth between sucking you off and jerking you off. Sometimes she would swipe her tongue on your slit, licking all of the precum coming out of you. Or sometimes she would fondle your balls as the lewd sound of her going to town on your dick reverberates throughout her room. Can the other members not really hear anything?
She pauses to wipe the drool coming out of the sides of her mouth and the sight of her ravaging your cock turns you on even more. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you? You better return the favor later, oppa.”
You’re supposed to be the one taking over and yet you melt into putty under her expert touch, the combination of her hands and mouth working their magic on your cock only serves to grow the familiar tension building up in your stomach. The events of this night are causing you to last much shorter than usual but you don’t mind, you want to stuff that mouth of hers full of cum. 
“Of course, I-I am.” You pant, finding it hard to even speak. “I wanna paint that pretty face of yours, Yujinnie.”
Apparently that’s not the right answer because a disappointed look spreads across her face as she stops pleasuring you. “Listen, I didn’t make you come all the way here just to have that huge load wasted on my face okay?” Is she pouting? “I need your cum to fill my pussy, breed me.” In a flash, she strips herself off of her undergarments—now she’s completely naked like you are.
As expected, she’s already wet—her juices dripping down her lovely thighs as she sits back on her bed and spreads her legs wide. She licks her fingers before using them to spread her lips wide open, showing you just how ready she is to be stuffed full of your dick. “Come on now, oppa. I’m all yours.” Yujin winks, then another lip bite as she presents herself to you.
That only sends more blood rushing towards your blue-balled cock. “Fucking hell, Yujinnie.” You immediately follow her towards the top of the bed and crash your lips with hers once again. No more foreplay, no more games. You insert your cock inside her awaiting pussy and the familiar warmth invites you to start pounding her and breed her like she begged you to.
“A-Ah wait!” Yujin then wraps her toned legs around you as you vent out all of your frustrations on her, fingers leaving scratches all over your shoulders and back as she holds on to you for dear life while you piston your hips at an unrelenting pace. 
You then bury your face on the crook of her neck as you roughly knead her breasts, continuing to stuff her full of your cock. “You like that, huh? Is this what you wanted?” For the first time tonight she’s the one rendered speechless, only giving you a curt nod as her guttural moans go straight into your ears. But you’re not exactly giving her the opportunity to talk, your thrusts only becoming more hurried and desperate as you trail your lips down to her left nipple and begin to suck on it harshly.
“Shit! Shit! Keep sucking on my tits please….”
You can feel her walls tighten around you as a response, such a simple action leading her that much closer to her orgasm. Her desperate cries of pleasure only increase in volume as you switch your target to her right nipple, sucking on it just as harshly while your fingers sneak in between where your crotches meet to rub on her clit. Meanwhile her own fingers are either clutching the bedsheets tightly or leaving more scratch marks all over your back, the continuous loud moaning of your name is the only sound that can be heard aside from the lewd sound of your cock giving her the pounding that she wanted. “That’s right, shout my name. Let everyone know just how much Ahn Yujin likes this dick deep inside her pussy.”
And as if it’s only the two of you in the dorms, she does exactly that. After a particularly hard thrust, she arches her back off the bed, her saliva-drenched breasts pressing against your chest as she experiences a strong orgasm. She squirts so violently that it forces your length out of her pussy, leaving her inner thighs a drenched mess very much like her silk bedsheets underneath. At this point, you two are both soaking in sweat but that just makes Yujin look even more ethereal. Her tanned skin glowing beautifully as you give her a passionate kiss while she comes down from her orgasm. 
“Fuck–” Yujin pants heavily, laughing at the mess she made. “You never fail to make me cum hard. You should stick around more.” She wipes the excess drool on her lips with the back of her hand, taking a couple more deep breaths as she slowly calms down from her high. You brush loose strands of her hair aside, diving in once again to capture those lips as your other arm rests on the mattress to make sure not to crush her with your weight.
After the brief makeout session, she then lightly pushes herself off of you and returns to her original position twenty minutes ago: legs spread wide open as she sits near the top of her bed—this time she looks more messy with her disheveled hair, bruised lips, and her pussy still dripping with her juices. 
“Now it’s your turn to cum, oppa. Take me how you want.”
That is all that you needed to hear from her as you gave her a quick kiss before grabbing her by  the waist and flipping her over on her stomach, causing her to squeal. Take this moment to appreciate her curves, her wide hips, that ass that never fails to make you hard when you watch her perform. And to think that this is only for you to see still blows your mind to this day.
“What are you waiting for? Fuck me already!”
Right. It’s time for you to fill her up and considering how intense this night has gotten, it will certainly not take you long to reach your own climactic end. You proceed to grab her wide hips with one hand while guiding your cock–still drenched with her juices–inside her waiting pussy. Soon, she’s moaning your name again as you quickly settle into a nice and steady pace. Her buttcheeks jiggling with every thrust is a sight that you will never get tired of. But there’s no better feeling than having her tight body pressed against yours so you grab onto her shoulders with one hand to pull her in an upright position, using your other free hand to fondle her breasts as you resume your pounding.
The lewd position allows you to leave kisses on her neck as she reaches behind her to wrap an arm around you. Her alluring scent only drives you crazy as you continue to slam yourself into her pussy, her orgasm making it easy for your length to slide in and out. It didn’t take that long for you to near your end, to explode into a supernova of pleasure that can only be provided by the woman writhing underneath—you could only handle so much pleasure and you received plenty of it tonight.
“Shit! I’m so fucking close, Yujinnie.” 
Hearing this, Yujin begins to bounce on your length with authority—her buttcheeks continuing to jiggle as the air in the room begins to grow hotter. “Fill me please! I want that thick cum inside me.” She then pulls you in for another deep, passionate kiss while she works hard to help you with your impending orgasm. “I want it flowing out of my pussy, I want it dripping down my thighs—”
“FUCK!”
It only takes her dirty words for you to reach your peak, vision going white as you begin to shoot ribbons upon ribbons of thick semen inside her tight, velvety walls—seemingly trying to milk your balls out of all the cum it has. Your cock throbs violently as you fill her to the brim much like she begged you to. You can’t count how many shots of semen you’ve left inside her but you know it’s enough as it immediately begins to drip out of her freshly fucked pussy the moment you pull out. You crash beside her right on the bed and you think that your night ends here but Yujin seems to have an infinite reserve of energy as she stands up from the bed just mere minutes later, your heavy load staining her thick thighs beautifully. She takes this moment to fix her hair once again for a few moments before reaching a hand out to you:
“Round three in the shower?”
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stillenha · 4 months
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new years kiss series: heeseung
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heeseung x you; friends to lovers au, fluff
summary: you and heeseung are designated drivers for your friend groups at a new years eve party and you can’t tell if he was more drunk (in love) than you words: 2.6k warning: alcohol consumption a/n: writing a nye kiss series to start this new enha writing blog! a masterlist will be made soon once i post the other stories of this series. hope you all enjoy reading my fics! happy new year! ♡♡♡
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The night was getting long. There was nearly an hour left before the new year and you finally found yourself settling down by the table counter in the kitchen after greeting other friends and joining groups for food and some chit chat time. You felt relieved that you went past the loud karaoke set that has been blasting all night since you arrived at the party. 
Your cup of fruit punch was set on the table in front of you, along with your phone.  You peeked out at the window of the porch and saw some people lighting up fire cracker sticks. You would join them but it’s too cold out and you didn’t have the energy to do more tonight. All you could do was sigh. You were exhausted and Heeseung noticed. He just got off from a pool game in a different room when he saw you there. 
You noticed a mistletoe up on the hall and wondered why it wasn’t put down yet before you even realized he walked through it. 
“So who are you trying to kiss tonight?” 
“What?” Your eyes widened at the question when Heeseung walked up with a cup of fruit juice in his hand and sat next to you. 
Heeseung, who you knew since high school, was wearing all black. It was his style and he had a leather jacket on, which didn’t really match winter. This was typical: he’s very different from others in a way that you kind of find him attractive at times. You wouldn’t call it a crush after all of these years. He’s just… really nice to be around with. 
When he saw that you were still staring at him with a shocked look, he looked at the mistletoe then back at you, and nudged his head at the decoration. You came to your senses and shook your head. “I just can’t believe they still have a mistletoe up here.” 
“It’s Jake.” Heeseung tilted his head, hissing a bit. “I think he’s still trying to kiss his crush.”
“Christmas is over though.” 
“His spirit is still up for it, for the new year at least.” Heeseung chuckled, noticing how some red decorations were still up in his house. He took a drink from his cup before setting it down. You laughed quietly along, then he asked, “I’m not really into new year kisses, unless the person I’m with feels the same as me.” 
“Sorry to break it to you but I may not be interested.” Though it would be nice to have someone to kiss, and it would have to be the same feeling as his. 
“It’s all good.” He grinned. “You seemed so busy earlier. Now, you’ve settled down?” 
“Finally, actually.” You had the biggest sigh ever and he followed your breath to the cup in front of you. 
“Oh, and you’re drinking fruit punch too?” 
“Yeah,” You chuckled at how excited he sounded. “I’m a DD tonight.” 
“Same.” Heeseung showed you his cup, then his lips twisted to the side uneasily. “Why are we so bad luck?” 
“You’re right.” There went another sigh. “When I think about the year, only the bad days come to my mind.” 
“You sound like you went through a lot.” Heeseung fiddled his fingers at his cup, and turned to you. 
He could feel how long you’ve thought about the year all night. You were everywhere, and he meant literally. Every spot he was, you were there, and Jake’s house was like a big mansion. It seemed like you just wanted to get the day over with, and that was probably how your year went. 
“How do you feel now?” Heeseung asked genuinely.
“Lifeless, but there’s an urge of fun trying to come out of me?” It felt like a confession, but you truly wanted to feel something and just didn’t know what to do for that to happen. 
“There’s some hope.” He nodded, whispering to himself. He noticed the confused look on your face and he grinned. “What I mean is, today can be a good day. You just have to remember that you get to choose whether it is or not.” 
You softly laughed, not because of how true his words were but the way his hand moved when he was making his point. 
“That is true.” Your smile died down and you sighed. “I wish I realized that sooner. It just seems easier said than done.” 
“Then, can I ask you what you want to do right now?” Heeseung suggested. He leaned onto the countertop and rested his head onto his fist. His blinks were slow, eyes stuck on you under that smile, so sweetly waiting. It felt like he was doing that the whole night, trying to listen to you. 
“I honestly want a drink, but I can’t. I want to be responsible.” You looked away, finding your friends having the best night with their lovers. You wondered why you even said yes to being their designated driver for tonight when you should be having fun too. Somehow, you couldn’t feel the joy to get up and join them. It could be this conversation you’re having with Heeseung but you also didn’t want to end it because you felt seen in his presence. He’s listening to you and you didn’t want him to stop. 
“You don’t have to be responsible.” Heeseung’s voice teased and you almost glared at him, then he continued. “I can be responsible for you.”
“Be responsible for me?” 
He nodded once, then he turned to you. “The choices you make tonight.” 
“How are my choices your responsibility?” You asked softly, hoping that you didn’t sound mad or crazy. 
Heeseung pointed his chin to your phone that vibrated a second ago on the table. “It looks like your friends don't need a DD anymore.”
Your face burned up in joy as something ignited from inside of you. Your shocking face made him grin widely. You shook your head, still in denial that what you read from their texts were true. “No, no. I probably shouldn’t.” 
“I said I can be responsible for you tonight.” 
“What about your friends? Don’t they need you too? I just think it’ll be a hassle to drive so many people-”
Your words got cut when Heeseung called out your name, a tiny laugh followed shortly. He sounded desperately tired of your complaints, but also as if he was teasing you again. 
“I promise you they won’t need me. They will leave with other friends later or end up sleeping here tonight. It happens every year.” 
“Really?” You’re not a party goer to confirm but you couldn’t believe him just yet. He nodded once, then you continued. “That means you’ve been to plenty of new year parties.” 
Perhaps, since you met him. You didn’t want to assume, and it hit you that he may have kissed plenty of people too. You could be slapping yourself for thinking that, but instead, you found yourself blushing.
“Yeah, but I don’t drink when it comes to big parties like these. Many friends can be irresponsible. I’d rather look out for them than get myself in some kind of trouble that I might regret.” Heeseung grabbed his fruit punch cup and took a drink before he cheered it at you. “Do you trust me now?”
“I’ll go get a beer.” 
Heeseung grinned, as you stepped away. In a way, he felt proud that you’re listening to yourself but little did he know, you were willing to drink just a little so you could stay sober for him. For a second, you thought how peer pressuring that was, but then again, you wanted to drink too. A beer won’t do much to you. As you grabbed a can from the fridge, you peeked at his back. You had no idea what he’s really up to but there’s definitely something on his mind. 
“What the heck?” Your voice jotted his head to you when you sat back down on the seat next to him. You set your drink on the table and leaned your head close to his hand to take a better look. “You made that just now?”
“Yeah.” Heeseung closed his fingers to tighten the napkin ring he made on his index finger. It had a butterfly at the top of it. His smile seemed to never leave the night as he adored how awed you were. “Do you want it?”
Without giving you a chance to answer, he took off the ring, held your hand up and slipped it through your finger. 
“It’s so cute, wow. You’re… you’re a wizard.” You complimented before you opened the can of beer. You took a drink of it in two big gulps to wash your burning cheeks away. 
“No one has ever called me that.” Heeseung laughed. You couldn’t tell if he liked it or if he was making fun of it. You just couldn’t help to explain. 
“I really mean it. You don’t see people going to parties and making tangible stuff like this. They just drink, dance, and be loud.” You were still awed at the artistry work he did that was now wrapped at your finger. “I want to learn how to make this.”
Heeseung was relieved. You were listening to yourself and didn’t shy away from what you wanted to do. “I can teach you.” 
In that moment, you met his eyes and the world seemed to stop around you. Heeseung began to lean in. Slowly, you followed his move. You didn’t keep track of the time or realize how close midnight was going to hit. 
All of a sudden, you both heard a shout of his name from the microphone where a few of his friends were karaoking from. You both moved back quickly and your eyes followed that loud voice. 
“Where is Heeseung? Where is he- OH THERE HE IS!” His friend pointed at him then waved his hand for him to come. “Dude, this is your song! You have to sing this! Come on!!! It’s Mistletoe!!!”
Heeseung shook his head as his friends laughed loudly through the room. You could almost tell this song seemed to be an inside joke within his friend group. You’d probably ask about it later because he looked so embarrassed right now. He got up from his seat and walked backward slowly, then he waved a hand at you with a shy grin. “I’ll be right back.” 
You nodded and watched him dash to his friends. They cheered for him as one of them played the song and the other handed him the microphone. 
As you watched him sing, you couldn’t tell if he was drunk or not. He seemed to blend in with his friends, and it looked so funny that you couldn’t stop smiling. Heeseung kept looking over to you, as if he was singing for you. With just that song, you felt like Christmas was still here. 
By watching him and knowing he’s in your presence, your face was clouded by something you didn’t recognize. Whatever that may be, you found yourself a bit calm from his smile, a bit unguarded from the way he talked, and a bit in love from that closeness earlier. You wouldn’t allow yourself to hold back anything else now because his words seemed to always be right. 
You applauded as the whole room cheered. One of his friends was announcing how soon the new year was going to be. Heeseung made his way back to you, just like his words. Your shy smiles mirrored each other. He didn’t sit back down on his seat because you stood up. A hand of yours hid in the pocket of your pants and the other, the one with the butterfly ring, held onto the counter as if you’re leaning onto it. 
“I always forget how good you are at singing.” You complimented again. Why is he so good at everything?
“Thanks.” His shy smile was still there when he looked down at his feet. 
Your eyes met again, somehow deeper than before. As your lips calmed, you wanted to take the initiative and follow your heart once again. 
“Say, what are you doing tomorrow?” You asked. 
Heeseung slightly tilted his head but his grin peeked out. “Why?” 
“I don’t have anyone to spend the new year with. I hope it will be you.” It was almost as if you were whispering to him when you confessed. Your words were slow and the silence between you both moved the same length. His chuckling nod said it all. 
“I would like it to be with you, too.” He said. 
Your sweet gazes were everlasting. You didn’t want this moment to end. How perfect it would be, you both heard a friend of his counting down to the new year before everyone else followed. Heeseung hadn’t left your eyes and he moved in close enough that you would feel the heat from this chest. 
“I know I said I don’t do new year kisses, but I want to kiss you right now.” He confessed, almost hesitating. 
“I think we feel the same way.” You played from his words earlier and he was amused. “Can I kiss you too?” 
“Since you asked so nicely… Yes.” He was teasing again. It made you laugh before he held an arm behind you and your ring-fingered hand gripped at the front zipper of his jacket. You felt breathless against his body and it’s contradicting how hot you were feeling when chills ran down your back. Heeseung’s nose could almost touch yours when he greeted you, “Happy new year.”
It felt silly to say it before it actually hits midnight and you almost laughed at the thought of it. The countdown was getting louder and your lips beamed. “Happy new year, Heeseung.” 
His smile turned into a sweet grin. You could feel his beating heart against your chest when your lips touched. His lips were warm, and they parted so he could give another smooch against yours. That kind of touch ignited sparks from your stomach. You lips brushed along with his and the venomous scent of his cologne made you dizzy. His hand cupped between your ear as he deepened the kiss and gripped your back tighter. You felt his hot breath tickling your cheek, fingers pulling him closer at the collar of his jacket. No one had ever kissed you like this before. He did more than you would, and you wished he wouldn’t stop, so your lips parted and kissed him a bit harder back, just like how he taught you earlier. 
The sudden loud cheers around you woke you up before you both pulled away, noses still close together. Your breaths were deeply soft and quiet. You both remained standing, arms still at each other. For a moment, Heeseung felt astonished by the things you were learning from him. It was worth opening his eyes to when he noticed your flushed cheeks. You both shared soft laughs before letting each other go, except your hand. He wanted to hold them all night if possible. 
As you both sat back down on your ‘designated’ seats, you had one thing on your mind: you should be doing this every year. Not the kiss because you couldn’t handle yourself, but the thought talk…
Just kidding, maybe both.
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brights-place · 2 months
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Hello!! I read some of your Trolls stuff and I really really like them! May I request Trollex, Branch, and Floyd with a super supportive s/o who’s experienced in a lot of genres of music and dance? They have a TON of instruments and they know how to play every last one like girl where did you get these???
Sheet music and music theory knowledge is through the roof like you’d think they teach it as a profession, and if they give them physical affection and compliments and actually just normal relationship stuff??? They are a puddle on the ground they are NOT used to someone close actively caring so much about them besides like family they love that shit, giving AND receiving 😎 (they can be shy about it sometimes tho it’s adorable)
Uhhh tldr local music nerd is smitten with their amazing s/o, they down bad tbh /j
If this is too much in a single request, don’t hesitate to message me in case this is too long!
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Them Dating an Music Theory! Troll
Pairing: Trollex X S/O, Floyd X S/O, and Branch X S/O
Warnings: Lots of Fluff, Mild cursing
A/N: OOOOH I LOVE THIS REQUEST! this is so good okay okay! plus I do music theory myself so this is fun! >:D
Trollex
- Trollex loves the way you explain music theory in a way that is easy to understand and engaging
- He enjoys listening to them talk passionately about music.
- He enjoys watching you play music for you and analyze the pieces in depth
- He listens when you rant and explain Music theory to him explaining that music theory covers things such as pitches and scales, intervals, clefs, rhythm, form, meter and time signatures, phrases and cadences, and basic harmony for music which he nods his head listening to you - Trollex loves how you play many instruments and stares at how you play it with ease - Trollex listens to you rant about it and is very patient with you even with his short attention span and endless energy.
- loves the way you light up when you talks about things that are about music
- He asks so many questions and forgets since his brain is re-setting sometimes - He can't help but admire your dedication to studying and refining your endless knowledge of music - He loves that they challenge your preconceived ideas about music and open you up to new perspectives of different musical styles and genres.
- He loves your creative ideas and imagination for how to explore and experiment with music.
- He values your willingness to share your knowledge and experience with you.
- He loves the way you express yourself through music and many genres not sticking to one and enjoys how you dance with him to techno music
Floyd
- Floyd loves to encourage you to express yourself creatively and explore your musical side more around him which you obviously do
- He appreciates how you share music tastes with him and discover new songs to listen to together
- He finds your knowledge of music history fascinating and enjoy learning new facts about the origins of different musical styles.
- Floyd is fascinated by your ability to deconstruct a piece of music and understand how the different elements interact to create a cohesive whole
- Floyd can’t help be impressed by the way you can find common threads between seemingly disparate pieces of music and make connections that he had never noticed before and would ask more
- You love the way your shy emo partner aka Floyd opens up to you and shares his emotions through music with you
-You two enjoy discussing the deeper meanings of songs and analysing the lyrics together though he mainly stared at your face to see your focused face
- He loves to play you a song that relates to your current emotional state and makes you feel understood and comforted.
- He can’t help but be drawn to how your musical knowledge and understanding of music theory can shed light on your personality in ways that you may not have been aware of but he was aware of it
- He finds it amazing how you can deconstruct your emotions using music theory and communicate with you on a deeper level which he also does I mean he is the sensitive one and knows about emotions
- He can’t help but be amazed by how much you can learn through many genres of music and their musical knowledge… I mean he’s Pop Rock but he can’t help but be shocked how you know ALL the genres
- He can’t help but be charmed by the way you approach music with pure enthusiasm and wonder as he stared at you lovingly.
Branch
- You both feel a strong connection with each other through music and can tell that you're both on the same wavelength even though he doesn't show it much,
- He can't help but admire the way you are fine with how branch can effortlessly switch between serious discussion and playful banter
- He finds it adorable when you become shy and blushes after realizing you have been rambling on about music for too long.
- He loves when you start sharing your favorite songs and artists with each other and discovering new music together
- He loves to support your creativity and encourages you to express yourself through music. - Branch can’t help be impressed by the way you can find common threads between seemingly disparate pieces of music and make connections that he had never noticed before and would ask more about it towards you
- He's impressed by your intelligence and knowledge of music theory.
- He finds himself admiring at your musical skills and wishing he could play or compose music the way you do.
reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact!
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miraculous-showtime · 3 months
Text
Some songs I want in Project Sekai !!
(flash warning for many of the linked videos!!)
Ki Do Ai Raku by Task - WxS I KNOW this is kind of outside of their usual genre/style of music BUT JUST READ THE LYRICS PLEASE!! i literally am so in love with this song and it just fits wxs so well it makes me feel ill I cannot describe in words how ecstatic I would be if they covered this! (very outlandish pick but i want it all the same)
Kimi no Taion by KutagawaP - Ichika & Saki this could probably be a full leoni cover BUT just LISTEN,,, this song is SO middle school ichisaki to me!!! it's so them! and it's so sad and bittersweet and it makes me emotional and they would sound SO GOOD singing this together. okay? okay.
Pajamy by Iyowa - Airi & Shizuku me and my lyrics relating to character arcs smh... ANYWAY! this song is literally just. Shizuku and Airi being scorned by the idol industry and AAAH IDK! I love iyowa and this song fits them so well and its been SO LONG since they've had a cover together. just read the lyrics please... thinking abt Shizuku's struggle with cheerful*days in the main story.... Airi wanting to help her through that... Airi being burned from how she was treated before she first quit being an idol...
Nee Nee Nee. by PinocchioP - Ena & Mizuki this song is literally about two online friends who are in love with each other but can't communicate properly. SORRY DID SOMEONE SAY MIZUENA???? I've seen people say they want this song with other ships but this is SUCH a mizuena song to me.... like idk dude it's just so them. I need them to cover this so bad.
Ironina by NILFRUITS - VBS this song could probably also work for 25ji but just hear me out the vibes would be so cool for a VBS song right? ALSO Akito alt and maybe An alt! :) the lyrics made me think of Akito so much he just HAS to have an alt.
Light Blue Invasion by Nayutalien - L/n this song is just so fun sounding and the lyrics are so leoni... everything about this song makes me think of them. I also think leoni just deserves more songs that are super fun and upbeat!!
shake it! by emon(Tes.) - MMJ this song is just so fun and sweet... I think it could be a really fun mmj cover! also the parts where the crowd is cheering? imagine a 3d mv where they're interacting with the crowd. idk I just think this would be super cute!!
Tiny Bunny by youman - 25ji literally the lyrics fit them so well, I can imagine exactly who would sing which lines. I also just love youman and this song. this song is so good and i think that 25ji would do an amazing job covering it! :)
Literacy by Wotaku - VBS tbh i don't really care who in vbs covers this I just want it... I think they would sound really really good. maybe anhane and akitoya alt vocals? i don't know but I really like this song and also it would be cool to have more wotaku songs in game!
UFO by Kikuo - Emu & Rui I don't know how likely a kikuo wxs cover is but. this song is so dreamy and the lyrics dude!!!! literally a song about lonely "aliens" looking for companions. this is SO emurui coded. this is one of my dream covers for them tbh. also ik i haven't been mentioning vocaloids BUT the vibe fits wxs luka so well to me i want her on this song with them. please just imagine this cover it'll change your life I promise.
Electric Angel by Yasuo - Minori & Haruka WOULDN'T THIS COVER BE SO CUTE??? like the song sounds super cute and i would love to hear them sing this... if anyone other than mmj covers this song I'll feel betrayed. ALSO THE LYRICS. SO minoharu coded! this might possibly be a bit of a pull from nowhere but I want it anyway
Amatsu Kitsune by Marasy - L/n I think this would be a really cool cover for them to do. I love this song, I think Saki specifically has a chance to really shine in this cover. IDK! I just like this song and the vibes fit leoni... also references to space and celestial stuff :)
Let's Die Together in Kurashiki by SLAVE.V-V-R - WxS although the lyrics do not fit them AT ALL the whole vibe of the song is SO cool. I would love to hear wansho do a cover like this! I especially think Rui and Nene could sound really cool in this, maybe they could get an alt vocal :) IDK this would just be a neat cover to hear
Baimei Baimei by Maiki-P - Mafuyu & Ena I have some newfound hope for this cover because of Maiki-P recently doing a comm for wxs! I just think the lyrics fit mafuena really well and also they could sound SO COOL singing this. it's just a really good song that I like a lot and I think a mafuena cover for this could sound amazing!
Rafflesia by Utsu-P - VBS okay this pick seems kinda random but please stick with me here I have a vision. THEY WOULD SOUND SO COOL SINGING THIS. literally i cannot imagine a world where vbs would do bad with this song. especially An, if we do ever get this song I totally want an alt vocal for her. ALSO the lack of Utsu-P in game is a CRIME.
Lula by n-buna - 25ji (i could not find an official upload (or reprint) for this song help) this song feels very bittersweet to me and I don't know I just think it would be a sweet nightcord cover. this song is really wonderful sounding and I would love for them to cover something like this. they've done similar songs before so it's not impossible
Scissorhands by Nem - Tsukasa & Rui guys guys please this song is so them like you don't get it I need this cover. "This hand of mine cannot even caress your cheek. If that's the case, just how can I protect your smile?" LIKE ARE YOU SERIOUS??? not to mention they would sound AMAZING with a song like this. this has potential to become my favorite ruikasa cover over fixer it could be so good... this might be a bit too overtly romantic for ruikasa but idk.... I can hope and dream.
Magical Girl and Chocolate by PinocchioP - MMJ I tried not to pick too many super popular songs (like ones i see on wish lists a lot) but i want this cover so bad. this song fits mmj so well and I love pino and mmj so it would be a dream come true for me tbh. I think they would sound really cute singing this, okay?? Haruka and Airi could have alt vocals for this :)
CH4NGE by Giga - Kohane & An really just another song I picked because I think it sounds cool and An and Kohane could totally do this justice. they could do such an amazing cover of this song honestly I've been wanting it for a while I think it would sound super good!! also songs like these are peak vbs vibes to me.
Tenkou Zen'ya by ChinmariP - Ichika & Honami really this is a very Honami coded song to me. Ichika is just here because solo covers barely exist and leoni doesn't have any songs without Ichika (I would've put Shiho otherwise). but also the vibe of this song very much fits with how other ichihona covers sound and I think it sounds really nice.. it's bittersweet and reminds me of main story/middle school Honami, i think it would be a neat cover.
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dullahandyke · 9 months
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If someone was to mayhaps want to draw one of your OCs do you have any drawings of them or any more information about the kind of clothes they wear?
ANON ILL KISS UUU um I have a couple drawings but they're old, let me grab them n also describe more accurately their appearances....
Ok as for the drawings please ignore the copious style shifts and bear in mind that most of these cunts r like OLD old. Like 'drew her on the open night for the secondary school I have since graduated from', 'ex-danganronpa oc' old. And that's not as much to do w how recent the drawings are bcos most of them are like 2 years old or so but like. I keep trying to keep certain aspects of their designs and it shows. ANYWAY heres some Ames designs that can get smushed into one
Ames Spector
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Stocky build, on the short side
Filipina
Black hair, the middle picture is pretty much it, tho I'm still attached to her with a ponytail if u wanted to go for that
Black button-up with the sleeves rolled up
Yellow tie with a star-shaped tie pin (listen she's had a star pin for 6 years and even if it's not a hairpin anymore it's still hers)
See I really do like the vibe of the blazer tied around the waist ala picture 1 but I couldnt make it work colour-balance-wise so I ended up just making her slacks yellow. If u think u could make it work then go for it my guy
Sturdy black boots
Eyebrow piercing on her right
See I did vibe w her having a tattoo but I dont think the snake suits her... omit it or freehand it as u like
Ringo Fleming
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I'm not entirely happy with the balance of the outfit but it's a good idea of its style (which is 'was born sad and alone in a Claire's)
I think I put his cane on the right side? It's his right leg that he needs it for
It has hearing aids that it definitely dangles earrings off of
Snake bites
Pink dyed hair with some sort of undercut
Oh yeah hes noticeably tall. I'm not good w heights but like 6'6 even without his penchant for platform boots
Large nose
Very reedy build
White
Thea del Arte
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Heavily based on Arlecchino (predecessor to the harlequin, from Italian renaissance-era theatre) with the right picture as my heaviest inspiration
Fat
Hes pretending to be Italian bcos it's better for PR but hes actually Catalan
Tan skin
Dimples
Short curly dark brown hair
Black mask is more masquerade or superhero than arlecchino, it emotes when she has it on, you know the drill
Wears reading glasses over his mask in his 'reading documents' animation
Neck ruff
In the drawing I have her down as wearing shorts but tbh I think she'd cover as much of herself as she could for the intrigue
White gloves
Black lipstick
Shirley Fortunis
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See I like her current design but it doesnt feel very ace attorney to me. Trying to incorporate a dice/coin/luck motif.
Black
Long black locs with silver jewelry
Acne
Big purple cardigan somewhere in her design
Officewear under the cardigan
Maybe a trench coat of some description over the cardigan to make it feel more detectivey? Idk spitballing
Maybe a coin necklace?
Miren Diez
And now we get into the area of 'all my drawings for this one are so old theyd do more harm than good'
Sickly pale and visibly malnourished
Long dark brown hair, untrimmed beard
Bcos of spirit medium shenanigans I dont think they have much in the way of their own clothes tbh. Mostly its theas clothes that they're left in once they stop channelling her.
If they are wearing their own clothes, probably just a very oversized steel samurai sleep shirt and sweatpants that used to fit but Uh Oh Drastic Weight Loss
Septum piercing
Raph Porter
Tbh I dont have much for them
Light hair in a ponytail
Brown reporter-type hat
White button-up, brown slacks, brown suspenders, brown tie
Brings an entire typewriter into court
Btw this isnt a design thing but like u gotta know that she is just WAITING to be revealed as the big bad so at all times she is wearing an evil outfit under her normal one. It is not at all visible in her normal outfit that's just a fun little fact for u
Generically pretty
The judge
Does not look like the judge from ace attorney
Has robes
Has at least one hand
Has a mouth(?)
Skin is a maybe
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karatecaulfield · 2 years
Note
Hi, may I have a ship for Stranger Things? I go by she/her and am bi with no preference, so any gender is fine.
I’m about 5’5, dark blue eyes, medium length hair thats kinda too dark to be dirty blonde but not so dark that its light brown with slightly lighter blonde highlights throughout. Ive been told I typically wear what would be considered 90s type of style but leaning away from more feminine things tho I’m not opposed to dresses and all. 
I do get pretty anxious when thrown in certain situations rather that be talking to a group of people or just one person. But on occasion and definitely when I get to know someone I never stop talking. I am a ranter and rambler which means I could be ranting about something that happened and then start talking about something else that may or may not be related to the original subject. Basically I will always find something to talk about though I do enjoy listening to other people talk. I am considered the mom friend because I tend to be the most logical. Im also a very determined, stubborn person who usually is kinda pessimistic but still has a huge imagination. And despite all the anxiety I am usually a relatively confident person and am not afraid to take up for anyone I care about. Also I am pretty good in school despite having a kinda bad memory. Also an INTJ, Sagittarius, and Ravenclaw. 
I absolutely love writing and have for the longest time rather that be random original stories I make up or the various fanfics I have(lol). I also love drawing and painting and recently realized I’m actually pretty good at making art related to animals and the occasional landscape. I’ve also been a big music fan since I was a kid, I honestly dont know what I would do without it. I also really enjoy reading when I get the chance, like I could spend hours getting consumed by whatever I’m reading. Which also travels into me when I’m watching things. As in I spend a good bit of time just binge watching new or old shows. I also really like walking around and enjoying nature. Theres a few nature trails I love going on and would go to the zoo every weekend if I had the chance. Which also goes along to my love for animals. Also I do like going to random places with my friends. 
And thats about all I can think of to say, hope it wasnt too much lol. But anyways, thanks in advance :)
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robin buckley!! she would absolutely ADORE your style. it’s probably the first thing that grabbed her attention, and as someone who isn’t into a ton of fem clothing she would love seeing you dress more similarly to her. the two of you sharing clothes would legit be one of her love languages, and it would make her blush every time. you guys have some similar traits, but are different enough people to actually suit one another in a romantic relationship. while you’re not the only mom friend in her friend group, she would look to you for stability the most out of anyone in her life. she’s never really been able to keep a serious façade on for very long, but she knows that you can handle her, all her lighthearted cynicism, and the sarcasm she has to offer. she really admires your creative side since visual and written arts aren’t something she’s personally dabbled in very much. she’s definitely your biggest fan when it comes to stuff like that. it would mean the world to her if you supported her music stuff in return, even if it’s as simple as showing up to a pep rally at school.
A/N- thank you so much for requesting anon!! I hope you enjoy <3 feel free to request again if it isn’t what you were hoping for
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messers-moony · 3 years
Text
So Perfect 2 | J.P
Paring: Young!James Potter X Fem!Lupin!Reader
Summary: James falls in love with a bookstore called, Lupin’s Library, and can’t believe what they’re going through. 
Preparing for a date seemed easy enough, except when it’s with a twenty-five-year-old man that already has a child. Granted, the twenty-five-year-old man was handsome, very handsome; maybe that’s what made this so hard. Every dress that she tried on didn’t seem to fit or didn’t seem to look right. 
Y/n was looking at her appearance in the mirror when a light knock was heard on her door, “Come in!”
Remus almost dropped the tea he was holding for her, “You look spiffing.”
“Spiffing?” Y/n crossed her arms with a stupid smile, “That’s all you could come up with?”
“Dashing, beautiful, gorgeous?” Remus shrugged, “I'm not good at this whole thing. ‘S why I’m into blokes, remember?”
Y/n hummed, reaching for the tea he was holding for her, “Thanks, Remmy.”
“No problem.” He replied, taking a seat on her twin bed, “So, are you excited?”
“Nervous.”
“Nervous?”
“Yeah, I mean, he’s already got a child, Rem!” Y/n said exasperated, “If this goes well, then he’ll expect me to be Harry’s stepmother, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”
Remus placed two hands on his shorter sister's shoulders, “You’re going to be fine. No one is more prepared for that than you are.”
“I’m regretting this.”
“If you don’t go on this date, then I’ll never call Sirius.” 
“That’s not fair!”
“It is.” Remus replied, “How about this-”
“Oh no, you only do this when you know you’ll win.” She murmured. 
Remus smirked, “If you go on this date and have fun, I’ll ask Sirius out. If you don’t go on this date at all, I’ll block his number.”
“But you and Sirius are perfect for each other.” Y/n whined, “And so are you and James.” Remus countered. 
Y/n pouted, and Remus smiled, “Now go have fun on this date. James is waiting outside.”
“Are you shitting me?!” 
Remus laughed, “Nope!”
Y/n scrambled to grab her things, and Remus watched amusedly, “You’re the worst, Rem!” She yelled as she began to leave the bookstore. 
“Love you too, sis!”
The door closed behind her, and she was releasing breaths of air. James turned to see her out of breath and a flush on her cheeks. It made him smile. She looked absolutely breathtaking too. Y/n’s hair was styled, and her dress looked dashing on her. James offered her his hand, and Y/n took it with a gentle smile. 
“Sorry for making you wait.” Y/n apologized, “Rem was no help.”
James chuckled, “It’s fine.”
James opened the car door for her, and she got in. Instantly she felt out of place. Y/n hadn’t been in a car since high school and ever since then had taken public transportation or walked. She and Remus didn’t have money for a vehicle, so they made do with what they had. The seats were black leather, and the car didn’t have a spec of dirt on it. 
He got into the driver's side of the car smoothly and took notice of Y/n’s awestruck expression, “I take it you like my car?”
“I’m sorry.” Her expression turned sheepish, “It’s been a minute since I’ve been in a car.”
James quirked an eyebrow, “Remus and I walk or ride buses to get by.”
“Well, I’m glad I could be with you for your first experience back.” They both laughed. 
It was so easy with James. Conversation flowed like water, and the air was light like clouds. His hand went from the shift to intertwine his fingers with hers. Y/n’s face flushed, and James smiled genuinely. James couldn’t remember a time when a girl made his heart race and butterflies fill his stomach like this before. 
When they arrived, Y/n was starstruck. It was fancier than she thought. Her heart pounded, and insecurity filled her body. James made his way to her side of the car and opening the door for her again. He helped her out of the car and felt her hand tremble just the slightest bit. 
“You look beautiful.” James assured, “No need to be worried.”
Y/n swallowed thickly, “Hey,” James turned her face to his, “If I thought you were underdressed, I would’ve told you. You’re gorgeous, and I think you’ll be the prettiest girl in the room.”
“Thank you.”
He gave her another one of those beautiful smiles before walking up to the hostess, “Name?”
“Should be under Potter.”
The hostess smiled, “Right this way.”
James motioned for Y/n to go first, so she followed the hostess to the table. Y/n sat down, and James sat across from her as the woman set down two menus. Maybe it was a force of habit, but she couldn’t help but let her eyes travel to everything around her. 
He smiled, slightly amused by her way of checking everything around her. It wasn’t the fanciest place that he could’ve taken her - there was much better - but he didn’t want to overwhelm her. It wasn’t pitying that drew him toward her, though. There was something about her that made him feel like a teenager again. 
The place was made of what appeared to be a dark wooden material. The lights were a dim yellow, and the tables were polished beautifully. The booths were comfy and with red cushioning. The atmosphere was cooling and dry. 
Y/n had opened her menu and began to survey it, “Pick whatever you want.” 
“Are you sure?” Y/n asked, “I really don’t mind-“
“This is a date.” James reminded as he held her hands from across the table, “Let me treat you so well that you a second date.”
Y/n blushed, “You’ve already done that.” 
“I have?”
“Shut up.”
James chuckled, kissing her knuckles, “Whatever you want, love.”
Half of the food on the menu Y/n hadn’t even heard of. Granted, she and Remus never really ate out much as kids. Usually, their mother - Hope - would cook them dinner as their father - Lyall - got home from work. Dinner was generally around seven-thirty or eight o’clock. 
The dinner went by gracefully, with lots of banter and getting to know each other. It wasn’t until the end of the date where James had paid despite Y/n’s efforts, and they got into the car where he had asked the dreadful question. They both sat in the parking spot when James had turned to her. 
“How do you feel about children?” James asked and quickly added, “I know that you’re good with them because of the reading on Saturdays but, I mean, about having children?”
Y/n wrung her hands, “I never really thought about it.”
“Why?”
“I have two jobs and a sick brother to take care of.”
Y/n replied, “Kids don’t really fit in. I’d also have to have a significant other to have children. Which I don’t have.”
James nodded, “Okay, but if you were to have a significant other.”
“I mean, I’d like to.” Y/n shrugged, “My life is just hectic right now. Bringing a child into this life wouldn’t be fair.”
Okay, so this isn’t going anywhere, James thought; I need to be blunt, “How would you feel about being Harry’s stepmother?”
She swallowed, “James….”
“I know that’s a hard thing to answer right now. Especially with us just getting started.” James added, “But if you aren’t interested, then this isn’t worth starting.”
“No, I know and understand.” Y/n said, fidgeting with her hands in her lap, “I’m sure it’s hard to find someone, you know, already having a kid and all.”
James nodded. 
“I’d love to be Harry’s stepmother.” Y/n replied as James’ face lit up, “But I still have the bookstore, the bar, and Remus to take care of as well. It’ll be stressful.” 
“I’m not asking you to be a stay-at-home mother.” James chuckled, “I’m just asking that at the end of the day, you come home to us.”
“And hopefully,” James smiled sheepishly, “Sirius can knock Remus off your list.”
Y/n chuckled, “Hopefully. Remus is a handful.”
“He seems nice.” 
She snorted, “Until you officially meet him.”
“Well then,” James smiled, taking her hand in his as he began moving the car, “Looks like we’ll be having double dates.”
Y/n squeezed his hand as he began to drive. The car drove effortlessly over the unpaved roads. Light music played in the background. The sky was a beautiful blue littered with sparkling white specks. The moon was crescent and barely a sliver. James had gotten to a stoplight when he spoke up again. 
“My house or yours?”
“Whichever.” 
James smiled and turned the wheel to the left, “Okay.”
It didn’t take long to realize that they were going to his house. His neighborhood was much different than hers. Granted, she lived on top of a bookshop, but it was still different. James lived in the suburbs. The houses were breathtaking, and the streets looked clean. Asphalt roads were freshly paved, and sidewalks looked new. The homes were family-sized, but they looked ginormous compared to her and Remus’ studio apartment only suited for one. 
James pulled into the driveway, and Y/n was flabbergasted. It was a two-story house, mostly white concrete, and the accents were a dark brown color. The grass was freshly cut, and the vegetation was trimmed. The backyard appeared to have a pool and a patio area, but Y/n could barely tell over the solid fence. 
His keys jingled as he placed the key into the slot and the door opened with ease. Gently, he motioned her to go first. The floors were dark oak wood, seemingly similar to the dark paint on the accents of the house. Everything was so clean, exactly like the car, not a spec of dust laid on the surfaces. 
A movie was playing on the television in the room on the right. The kitchen was on the left, and the sitting table was in the room beside it. James shut the door behind him, locking it. He took off his coat and shoes, placing them at the front door. He smiled. 
“I take it you like the house?”
“It’s beautiful.”
James smiled, walking to the kitchen, and Y/n took off her shoes before following him. He sighed when he opened the fridge, and Y/n had taken a seat at the barstool in front of the island. James picked up an empty bottle of wine that was still residing in the fridge. 
“You keep empty bottles of wine in the fridge?” Y/n questioned as James rubbed his face with his hands. 
“No. Bad habit of Sirius’.”
Y/n quirked an eyebrow, “He lives here?”
“He acts as he does.” James muttered as he recycled the empty bottle, “But no, Sirius lives a couple of doors down. But I feel like he should be paying rent here.”
Y/n laughed, “Regardless, I’ve known him since elementary school, so he’s like my brother. Harry calls him uncle and everything.”
“That’s adorable.” Y/n said, “Do you have any actual siblings?”
“Nope. Jus’ me.” He answered, motioning to himself, “Sirius has a younger brother named Regulus.”
“His parents obsessed with constellations or something?”
“Supposedly.”
“Where is Harry now?” 
“With Sirius.” James replied, taking out a full bottle of wine, “Told him I might get him tonight or might not.”
Y/n took the glass of wine he offered her with a smile, “Mind if I ask why the tv was left on?”
“My cat.”
“Cat?”
“Technically, not mine.” James explained, “It’s my ex-fiancées, but she left him here, so he’s mine now.”
“And your cat likes the tv?”
James nodded, “What's his name?”
“Moony.”
“Moony?”
“Yeah. Harry named him actually.”
Y/n smiled. They continued to talk, and the night kept going on by. It was well past midnight when James drove her back home to her shared apartment. The car ride was silent, primarily with music playing lightly in the background once again. He walked her to the door of the bookstore before bidding her goodnight. 
Gently James pressed his lips to her forehead, “Goodnight, get some sleep.”
“You too…” Y/n muttered, blushing as she walked into the bookstore. 
She hadn’t even made it up the steps when Remus began talking, “Had a good night, I presume?”
“You’re a dick, ya know?”
He smirked and closed his book with a thud, “Runs in the family.”
Y/n gasped playfully, “You ass!”
Remus chuckled as they both walked up the steps, “Seriously though, good night?”
“Yeah, really good night.”
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jtrokujo · 3 years
Text
𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐇𝐘 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐎𝐗𝐈𝐂¿
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paring: Mikaela Hyakuya x fem!Reader
(they’re 18+!!!)
word count: 4k
warning: this story contains sexual content
gerne: smut
summary: there are days when they get along well but there were also days when they hated each other like the plague and even though they love each other?
The weather is neutral, but I wish it got better.
The sun is obscured by the gray clouds, but it's not windy or anything.
You could even go out with a top.
However, y / n decided to take a seat in the four walls with a number of different books and a tall pile of books right next to them.
As she gently leafed through the pages of the somewhat older book, she felt a stab.
Of course it didn't hurt since no one was attacking her, but it felt like someone was watching her.
Without presenting her feelings, she took some books and put the rest where she got them.
Immediately after leaving the library, she stopped in the middle of the path and said with an annoyed sigh, "Bathory, I know you're here."
He stands grinning in front of y / n, but could hardly show a disappointed face.
With his head tilted to one side, he looked at his prey and smiled at her immediately. "I prefer you to call me by my first name, dear."
“I do what I want and not what you want, Bathory. Besides, I have better things to do than waste my precious time being influenced by you. "
When they told the vampire, she continued on her way, or at least intended to.
As quickly as he came, he grabbed her arm just as quickly. "But y / n, why is it in such a hurry?" asked the vampire, amused, pressing more and more on hers with every second, so slowly you could hear her bones. Y / n had to react immediately!
Without thinking for a second, she dropped all of the books on the white floor and immediately grabbed her gun. "You should let go of me!" y / n's voice rang out down the hall and immediately shot the vampire in the arm.
His blood spurted around her.
Y / n got his blood on her face as well as on her clothes - it was the same with Bathory, also the wall and especially the floor got his blood.
"Disgusting." mumbled y / n and wiped the blood on her face, although she knew herself that it would be of no use.
"What's going on here?" Everyone but not him.
"Hello Mika!" said Ferid with delight and turned to get a better look at him.
"Have you lost your nerve again?" he asked me annoyed, but he only looked at me for a few seconds and immediately saw Ferid's blood spatter.
"What do you mean 'again'?"
Even if we've known each other for a long time, we both have to admit that one and the other have diverged. Sometimes it was his fault, sometimes it was me. There were of course moments when we got along really well, but in the end they weren't enough in my opinion.
"Since you've lived with us, at least one vampire must have got something from your weapon."
Said the blond-haired vampire while his eyes stared at me.
I'm not understating when I say that his eyes alone make me feel naked.
Mika only manages to control me through his eyes, even though I should be the one who should control every vampire or the various books I spend most of my time on just one more bad joke.
It was enough for vampires to exist and more than hundreds of people took their own lives just to be able to enjoy themselves. To this day I cannot forgive any of the vampires for what they did to me or those around me. I know myself that there are bad ones, but what is their goal?
Or do you have a goal?
"Y / n." I heard his voice.
Awakened from my trance, I see his eyes again. However, they do not have this previous aura, no, they are a little stricter this time. When I gave him a sign of his attention, the lecture immediately came, "You are old enough to know how to behave and with whom to behave. If you show this behavior to someone else, I'll let that person do it . " and do what they want, because I haven't had the nerve for someone like you for a long time. So finally know your limits before I use my weapon against you! "
Impressive. From sentence to sentence his voice grew louder and louder. Seriously, I never expected or even had the idea of ​​this side of Mika in my life, but here it is. Wonderful y / n, now you have managed to sink deeply with Mika, which is actually the very last thing I ever wanted to achieve in my life, but life has never been a paradise.
With a chuckle, Bathory put his arm and my shoulders and spoke to Mika.
"But, but Mika shouldn't be so strict with her. She's just a little girl again, not even now, is she?" "If I were that little girl, you would surely have two arms instead of one." After saying my sentence, I picked up the books that were still on the floor and didn't say goodbye to anyone, why should I?
Bathory is nothing more than an idiot who uses his satisfaction to see others suffer rather than provoke them too.
While Mika nudges both children like a father, although the other is to blame for everything.
When I got to my room, I put the books on my table and sat on my bed, thinking about the old days. However, I don't think of the days with loved ones that I lost, but of those that I spent with Mika before he gave me a “better life”.
I could leave it all behind at any time and either not start an old or a new life, but I love to have him in my heart for it.
Sighing at my thoughts, I give up and stood in front of my closet for the next minute.
While the lukewarm water felt the white bathtub, my clothes landed on the floor.
This life is more of a calling expected of others than a life of its own. A break does no harm to anyone.
I said to myself and after a few seconds I closed my eyes.
After my bath or a break from the real world, I'm just choosing which book to read.
As I was about to start the new book, someone knocked on my door.
Hesitantly, I said the door was open and waited for the person behind it to appear. Please leave it all but Bathory.
Sighing, I immediately put my hand on my left breast and saw him, Mika.
To be honest, I'm happy to see him, but I'm not, but I don't need an explanation. "Good evening." he said in his usual tone. Without making a big head out of it, I repeated it myself, but added if he needed anything from me.
Shivering, I answered my question in the negative and came up to me with slow steps.
The only thing I could do was do nothing. I stopped. When our faces are a few centimeters away, his arm came slowly towards my body, until he reached for something, when he had this in his hand, he came back with a few steps and immediately held a book in my face.
"I really recommend it, I have to say, you have pretty good taste when it comes to books. I've read it several times because these stories, the writing style, the plot and most of all the characters are up to me." uniquely well written down to the smallest detail. "
I looked at the vampire in amazement. "You read that too?" "Y / n, if I hadn't read it, I wouldn't have a clue either."
A little ashamed of my oh-so-intelligent question, I also looked at the floor.
The whole time there was nothing to be heard, neither a little intoxication, nor even breathing. But after a few seconds, Mika also broke the embarrassing silence by taking a few steps and holding out his arm to me. I don't understand it about myself. When Mika is around, I either act annoyed or neutral. However, countless butterflies gather in my stomach when I think of him alone!
"Y / n ... y / n?!" Mika looked up, gave me a neutral look and at the same time held a few strands of my hair and asked me if he should tie my hair up with a towel. I gently took the wet strands of hair from his hand and began to giggle at my discomfort and nervousness. The thought of me being weird was always out of the question.
"I think I'll blow dry my hair. I'll see you at dinner or tomorrow."
"I'll see you at dinner or tomorrow." repeated Mika before she disappeared from my room.
Locked in the room and caught in his deepest thoughts, he stared over the ceiling.
The reviews of that day haunted him to this day when he also dreamed them.
Sleeping now wouldn't be for him, even though it is shortly before 2 o'clock.
But what can you do about it?
The vampire rose from the bed, stretched out, and decided to go for a walk immediately.
As he walked through the empty corridors, he always hoped not to meet anyone.
Whatever stays that way.
Bored and hands in his pockets, the floor caught his attention. It didn't take long, however, because he was amazed to get up when he saw the light coming from someone's room.
He was more than sure whose room, or rather chamber, it was.
It was Y / n's.
He stopped in front of it, thinking, held out his hand and wanted to knock on the door. At the same time he quickly put his hand in his pocket. This scenario takes about 3 minutes. But it wasn't the vampire's nervousness that was unusual, no, why should he be at y / n's door? This is funny.
Doesn't he often seem annoyed or stern in your presence?
Well, he doesn't even know what's going on in his head.
After an eternity, the vampire finally knocked on the human's door and immediately heard "Come in" from the other side.
Without telling himself twice, he opened the door and saw her. He saw her spread out on the large bed with several notes and books.
Stressed out. You can't see it from the outside, but even Mika can confess that he thinks it is strange to see y / n at this time.
"Do you need something?" she asked him and fixed him with her gaze.
"Shouldn't you be sleeping long ago?" he asked and at the same time crossed his arms over his chest.
"Mika, I could ask you that too, don't you think?" sigh y / n and slowly start piling up her notes and books together.
When Mika offered her help, she politely declined and slowly and carefully put the things on her desk.
"If you have nothing special to do, you can always keep me company, you know?"
Yes, even if there is an argument between the two, they still get along well. However, they don't seem to be as close as they used to be. Without saying anything, Mika accepted the offer and sat next to y / n.
Was that really wise?
The smell of y / n gets over his head, but he's not as easy to lose control as other vampires.
Breathing hard, Mika rubbed her eyes and hoped that this unbearable smell would go away any moment.
Easier said than done.
If only I had drunk blood in the last few days. The vampire cursed.
Y / n noticed his unusual behavior and tried to communicate with him, but to no avail. She called his name several times, tapped him on the shoulder, and shook him a little. He seems trapped in his own world. For the first time she seemed to see someone so trapped in his own world. When will he regain his senses?
Annoyed, she hit his skull with her fist, which led to a groan of pain from Mika's mouth. "What does this mean?!"
“If you are tired, please go to your room and sleep there.
Both rolled their eyes in annoyance.
"You have nothing to say to me, human."
"Oh really? What are you going to do about it, vampire?" It wasn't a mistake by y / n, but rather Mika's mistake. If he hadn't called her a human, she wouldn't have called him a vampire. Nobody except Mika knows right now how much he hates vampires and yet he is one himself, but you have to remember that he never wanted to be one. Not everyone is lucky in life.
As I said, even if it was his own fault that she reminded him, he completely lost his nerve. Slowly she approached y / n, she already felt the dark aura coming towards her. However, y / n did not want to show the fear that is in her and slowly rising above her head. She will regret it. "Repeat when you have the pity." "What is the problem? You called me human and I called you a vampire, but you know what makes me be silly, get out of here, vampire. ”Without further ulterior motives, Mika grabbed her wrist and squeezed the bones with her hand listened from print to print. When she wanted to reach for her gun, which is under her top, Mika was a second faster and threw it directly to the end of the room. When Mika immediately released his hand from Y / n's wrist, she saw an emotion in his eyes, sadness.
He was hurt, but shouldn't he care? What should a little person who plays with little guns do against a vampire, ask him about a game? However, he saw her more as a person, he saw her as someone he can love, with whom he can laugh, of course he had had these people before in his life, but they have long since disappeared. Oh how much he loves her.
If only she knew how many letters he wrote her, but never gave them to her, but hid them in his room.
"I'm really stupid." Mika muttered trembling to herself. Y / n heard it and slowly walked up to him "Mika, that was very childish of me and, to be honest, I'm sorry." When she tried to touch his shoulder, he knocked her away and looked into her eyes, it was their fault.
“I don't want your decisions! I never wanted to be a vampire! If you don't know anything about me, please be quiet and think twice before you open your door! ”The whole room went quiet, pretty quiet. It was rather uncomfortably quiet for y / n, but she preferred to keep her mouth shut because it looked like Mika was looking for the right words. "Why do I love you? Tell me Y / N, how can I love you when you hate me so much?" His voice was fragile and it was tormented to hear it that way. "Mika, I had never hated you before." Exhausted, Mika sat down on the floor and looked at the gun at the other end of the room. "Every time I see a gun like that, I hate myself even more." “Even if it sounds a bit clichéd, for example because of the current situation, I have to and want to admit that I love you Mika. You are in such pain and apparently you have torn old wounds. You didn't deserve that, nobody deserved that. ”Y / n sat like Mika on the floor and hugged him. Her warm body against his cold one. As if in slow motion, their faces stood a few inches apart until their lips met.
𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐏
With my hands on the back of his neck and my tongue seeking his, his fingertips dance from my thigh under my top.
Only he managed to make me shiver everywhere in a few seconds with the help of his touch. Not through his ice-cold skin, no, only through him. In keeping with the mood, the cold raindrops hit my window pane. "Waiting." he whispered to me.
Not a second later it was pitch black in my room. The butterflies in my stomach just like Mika don't know when to stop, but I love it, never let it stop! His lips kissed every inch of my skin and whispered to me how divine my body was. His hands slide up my top until it finally brushes over my head. The first item of clothing is already on the floor. My legs were around his waist so he could pick me up and lay me on my bed. When he did that, his lips were still on my skin.
As I lay down comfortably, I watched his clothes land piece by piece on the floor. His belly is built like that of a Greek god and although it is dark the moon shines on him. One could have immediately thought it was a godsend. The boxer shorts were the only items of clothing that remained. While I was about to take off my pants, Mika took my hands and indicated that he could do it himself. When my pants peeled off my skin, he looked at my legs in admiration and immediately threw my pants on the floor. Now stand half-naked in front of my bed. The red cheeks on his cheeks were clearly visible. "Are we really supposed to pull this off?" I asked Mika and looked him in the eye. His lips approached my ear and he breathed softly, "Y / n, the question is not, we should, but we can. A human and a vampire, is that a good chemistry?"
"Why don't we want to find out?" I whispered and kissed his shoulder in time. Now he looked at me again, but with clearly red cheeks you could have thought he had a fever, but I can't blame him, because even when his ice-cold body is on top of mine, my body manages to have a hot temperature.
As our tongues played with each other again, our hands explored each other's bodies. While one hand pinches my buttocks, the other is right on my bra clasp.
Moaning slightly, I also pinched his buttocks and felt my muscles tense. A low gasp left his delicate lips, which made me even weaker. My temperature rises more and more with each of his touches.
I can not stand it anymore!
He knows very well that he has the upper hand!
When my bra, like the rest of the clothes, landed on the floor, his ice-cold hands brushed my arms up to my hips and brushed the last piece of clothing across the floor.
I was breathing hard down in my zone.
His hands were on each thigh so I couldn't pinch my legs together. Apart from the horniness, I could hardly move my legs because of his strength, you can not say that he is so strong. The horniness in me is going like crazy! With every breath Mika takes against my area, the butterflies in my stomach fly crazier.
When his tongue brushed my cervix for less than a second, I let out a gasp. Immediately afterwards he pressed his tongue against it and danced with it at the same time. That I'm getting wetter is not only clear to me, but also to Mika, when he was his tongue in my entrance, she explored every single inch inside.
Overwhelmed by shame and lust, I pressed one hand against my mouth so as not to make a noise from you, and the other on his white-blonde hair.
Every time his tongue penetrated deeper and he spread my thighs wider and wider, it honestly hurt, but I don't care about that at the moment because as good as he makes me feel no one is going to do it and I want it too nobody does it because I just want them. Because I just want Mika.
When I thought it couldn't get better, I was wrong. When he started sucking, I was done. My lustful moans got louder every time I sucked, but I do my best that nobody but Mika can hear it. When he freed his tongue from the entrance again, he stuck his middle and ring finger in the next second and didn't give me a second to get used to it. The speed of his fingers is unique!
No matter how much I press my hand against my mouth, my moans stay louder.
Several times his name groaned, which only drove him to increase the speed. My orgasm is nourishing. When I groaned and said I was about to be there, he didn't stop but continued. His tongue dances on my cervix and his fingers successfully hit the G-spot every time, it's just breathtaking!
When my orgasm came, I screamed his name with relish and breathed heavily as I stared at the ceiling.
His beautiful face approached mine, but he devoted his lips to my ears and whispered, "A second round won't hurt you." Aren't my trembling legs enough for him? In the middle of the kiss, I slowly felt his member inside me, but my nails clawed behind his back in pain, we continued the kiss. Now it was Mika who groaned in the middle of the kiss. He closed his eyes and kissed my chest as his hips began to dance. Is it still normal for him to make me feel this way? Because on the one hand I can no longer, on the other hand I want more! Mika's one hand is on my thigh while the other is on my chest. The way he plays sensitive nipples is superb.
I don't know how he makes me feel so good, but I want him to never stop. "Mika, don't stop." I moaned in his ear and wrapped my legs around his waist. When he saw me, I didn't know how to feel. Because his eyes are blood red! He slowly approached my neck. That cold breath worried me even more. He didn't bite me, however, but instead scratched his designated spot with his fangs as the blood flowed from the wound, so it propelled him and made him much faster than before. The clap of our skin was just as loud as the satisfying moans from our mouths. "Y / n." he groaned my name and immediately turned me around. Now my back was visible to him. With both hands on our hips, our bodies clapped together. When I moaned his name one last time, the orgasm came, Mika pulled his member out of me and rubbed it with his hand until finally the white sperm speared out of his body.
𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐏
After Mika helped me cleanse my body, we are back in bed naked. "Do you think we can do it?" Mika asked out of nowhere. “I don't think so, I know, Mika. And I think you should too. "The vampire looked at me lovingly and finally kissed me on the lips and immediately afterwards whispered" Good night, y / n. " "Good night, Mika."
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for-fucks-sake-h · 3 years
Text
La Paloma
A/N: A story in which Harry’s cocky talk is about the only thing he can lay on thick. Otherwise known as the realistic sex blurb! In the midst of a lot of smut on this website (myself included) I wanted to do something a little different than “sex god Harry Styles” and show a side of sex that is actually real and common and I think... funny! Thank you to my girls @oh-honey-styles​ @andwhenshesays​ @real-work-of-art​ @haute-romance-quotidienne​ for always encouraging the madness. Happy reading! x 
Word Count: 3.8k || Rated: M (mature), for implied smut, shit talking and a floppy disappointment! 
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“Can’t wait to get you home,” he murmured in your ear, his warm breath sending a chill down your neck despite yourself.  
You were surrounded by people, who if they overheard anything he had whispered in your ear, you would have been mortified. Warmth spread to your cheeks as you lifted your shoulder to urge his face away from yours, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth as his toned, pink, silk covered front pressed closer to your side.
“God, you’re so fuckin’ sexy.” His palm made its ridiculously slow course of direction from your opposite shoulder, all the way down your spine, until he could grip your hip tightly to keep you close.  You could smell the tequila oozing from his pores, one (or three) too many La Paloma’s if had any sense of it. “Have I told you that tonight?”
“You did tell me,” you confirmed quietly, turning your head to look at him. “A few times, actually.”  
“Tell ya again,” he urged quickly, his hand squeezing your hip once more. “You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.” His voice was slow, the alcohol coating his throat into a subtle rasp. “Never wanted anyone more than you.”  
He was persistent, if anything. And horny. He made that abundantly clear as his intricately patterned hips ticked forward, his groin pressed tightly against the top of your thigh. He crowded every inch of your space, a few random twists of his hair tickling your temple, the silk of his shirt tickling your skin entirely too softly, the subtle hardness of his undeniably impressive length ready and waiting for you.  If you had let him, he would have snuck you into a closet, an earshot away from your distant relatives that attended your cousin's wedding alongside you.  
Your blood boiled with it though; that need, the utter desire you felt deep in your belly.  You almost gave in, almost let him lead you away, almost risked the embarrassment of being the subject of your family's gossip when someone undoubtedly caught you. You didn’t, clearly, what with the way the last hour had been a torturous form of foreplay.  
“H,” you warned, glancing behind him with a timid smile as one of your uncles approached the other end of the bar.  
You were standing just off to the side, in a tiny little nook that had no business being large enough to fit both your bodies. You weren’t even sure how you got there, your mind fuzzy from both your drinks and your boyfriend.  But there you were, listening to the deep timbre of his voice recite, in detail, what he planned to do once he got you alone.  
“What? I can’t love on you?” he faked innocence.  
You laughed softly. “You can if you keep it PG.”   
“Guess that depends,” he pondered with a slow drawl, “does making you come on my face fall under the PG category?”
A dramaticized roll of your eyes had him playfully giggling against your cheek. “Definitely not,” you sighed with a smile.  
“No can do then.”  
“Harry--”  
“Y’drive me crazy, you know that?”
“Feelings mutual,” you chuckled dryly.  
“The worst part... is that I know exactly what’s waiting for me.” His voice lowered, his lips just barely skimming over the corner of your jaw, warm breath caressing your skin once more. “I know you’re wet, and it’s fucking killing me.”  
You were wet, uncomfortably so, and this man did nothing to quell it. If anything, he went out of his way to intensify it. You didn’t miss the way his fingers toyed with his bottom lip periodically throughout the evening, or the way he walked dick first back to you from retrieving drinks in perfectly tailored pants, or that his hands always found purchase on you somewhere; your thigh during the ceremony, your shoulder throughout speeches, the small of your back as he slow danced with you. He kept you close at all times, the warmth of his palm searing into your skin at any given moment.  
You downed the mouthful left in your glass as a distraction, his hooded eyes burning a hole in your face as he watched, his thumb toying with the material of your dress.
“I can’t stop thinking about it, love,” he rasped. “Sinking into you.” He somehow felt closer. “Feeling you clench down on me the way you do.” His hand squeezed your hip. “Hearing you moan my name.” He swallowed harshly, Adam’s apple bobbing out of the corner of your eye. “Watching you come…” he exhaled. “It’s so fucking good.”
There was a moan sitting at the bottom of your throat, begging to escape with every passing word.
“You always feel so good. I just want you on me, wanna be so deep I can’t breathe. It’s like… heaven.”
“Take me home,” you murmured breathlessly.
***
“I want you so bad.”  The whine slipped up your throat, passing Harry’s lips where they were pressed to the delicate skin of your neck.  
When you gave him the green light to leave the reception, you’d never seen him move faster - giving his well wishes and goodbye kisses to everyone that mattered at warped speed. His affection didn’t let up in the car, a warm palm dipping entirely too far between your legs in the back of that town car for you to focus on anything but him.
You both had stumbled through the house as best you could, tugging each other's clothes off on the way, until you were in your bedroom, hands caressing the silk of his broad shoulders as he pulled you closer. His skin was warm against yours, tingles coursing through your veins at his touch. You could hear his panting breath just as much as you could feel it fanning out over your skin between the burning kisses his mouth left behind.  
“That was the longest wedding I’ve ever been to,” he murmured barely audibly as he followed your careless guide towards the bed. “Felt like I was going to explode.”    
Your chuckle was soft as the backs of your legs met the edge of the bed, keeping a tight hold on him as you both fell onto the soft pillow top. He was heavily pressing you into the mattress, quickly slotting himself between your thighs. You pulled him in by the back of his neck, your mouth finding his with a deep kiss, the tiny bit of stubble on his face a stark contrast to the soft skin of his neck.  
He pressed his hips into yours roughly, practically grinding against your core.  The hardness you felt against your hip at the wedding had subsided, the car ride home seemingly giving him time to calm down. But now you wanted him.  
“I’m so wet,” you whispered, eager to feel him after so much build up throughout the night.  
He pulled back just so, a dimple barely forming into his cheek. “Can feel that,” he slurred, the words forming together in one drawn out breath.  
You leaned up to press a kiss to the corner of his puffy mouth, your lips finding their way down his jaw and neck. His hand smoothed down your thigh, squeezing roughly as he pulsed his hips against yours once more. His lips barely made contact with your skin, light kisses being pressed to your chest and neck. He was right there, not even half hard against the apex of your thigh. 
Harry enjoyed himself at the wedding - had his fair share of drinks. You both did, a delightful buzz coursing through your veins as well. You and your boyfriend were very similar that way, equally handsy and eager to be alone once you hit a certain point. It’s more fun being tipsy and horny when you’re in love with each other.  
“You okay?” you asked softly at his ear, feeling his shaky breath against the side of your neck.  
“Mhm,” he hummed, pressing a sloppy kiss to your clammy skin.  “Just give me a minute…” his words trailed off as he pushed himself up on one hand while the other slipped around his cock, giving himself a few slow strokes. And it was a sight to see; watching him play with himself right between your thighs, his stomach clenching both from his position and his hand.  
You couldn’t help yourself from reaching down to brush your knuckles over his hand as a signal to let you wrap your fingers around his cock instead. He happily obliged, choosing to kiss along your cheek and neck once more. You found a slow rhythm with a subtle twist of your wrist just as your mouth sucked a soft kiss from the side of his neck, just below his ear. But something that would normally have him hard in a few strokes, wasn’t doing the trick - three strokes coming and going, going, going, his cock steadily limp in your hand.  
He was breathing heavily against your collar bone as you gave him a few more pumps. His Paloma’s definitely seemed to be inhibiting him now, his tip brushing against your center over and over without so much as a glimmering twitch.  
A frustrated huff came from his pink lips.  “I don’t know what’s going on.”  
“Baby,” you eased as you pulled your hand away. “It’s probably the alcohol.”  
He wordlessly pushed himself up onto his wobbly knees, gripping himself once more as he looked down, a deep furrow dented between his brows. Two more useless strokes and brushing his tip against your core once more had him accepting defeat, falling onto the bed beside you with a disappointed grunt.  “Can still make you feel good,” he mumbled as he scooted the tiniest bit closer to your side.  
He smoothed his hand down your stomach and between your legs, only to brush his fingers just to the left of your clit. You shifted your hips slightly to get him on the right track, trying to help him find his way to where you needed him. And he did, momentarily, until he was too distracted as he tried to kiss your neck, moving off your clit once more.  
You sighed heavily as you turned your head to look at him, which only gave him false encouragement.  
“S’good, yeah?” he asked softly, his lashes blinking heavily back at you.  
You hummed through an extremely soft chuckle as you slowly turned your body towards his, your hand reaching up to cup the side of his face as his hand fell from between your thighs. “Sort of lost it, babe.”
“What? Nooo,” he whined. “Wanna make you feel good.” The pout on his lips was so evident that it almost made you smile, strong arms wrapping around you to pull you close.  His forehead knocked against yours, a soft chuckle coming from his lips as he pushed his weight into you more. “Wanna make you come,” he murmured as he clumsily crawled over you, pressing wet kisses onto the skin of your chest.  His tongue smoothed over your nipple, a zap of pleasure crawling down your spine at the sensation of his teeth scraping against your sensitive skin.  
You weaved your hands into his hair as his lips smoothed down the center of your sternum, his face pressing softly into your stomach. You shifted beneath him as his arms wrapped around your waist, his mouth lazily pressing kisses to your stomach as his weight pressed you into the mattress further.  
“H,” you murmured with a scratch to his head.
“Hm?”
You lifted your head to look down at him as he nuzzled into your skin. “Are you falling asleep?”
“Wha? No…”
“Harry,” you sighed. “Come here.”  You pulled on his arms in an attempt to bring him further up the mattress. He groggily responded, pushing himself up your body until he was laying beside you, arms wrapping around you and legs tangling with yours.  
“M’sorry, love. Can’t keep my eyes open.”  
“Sh, it’s okay.”  
He squeezed you tighter as he tucked his face into your neck, your chin resting on the top of his head. “Promise I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.”  
Sleep overcame him immediately, a content sigh falling from his lips before soft snores were escaping his open mouth. It was as endearing as it was annoying. After all that build up, all his shit talking, it was almost comical now. Or at the very least, you had to laugh, because otherwise you would cry of sexual frustration.
So you laid there, willing your mind to settle enough to fall asleep - all while Harry blissfully snored, his body radiating even more heat against your already too warm skin.
***
Was there anything worse than being woken up by a charley horse in your calf? In the grand scheme of the world? Yes. But in that exact moment? When shooting pain stabbed through your leg like a worn down razor blade?  No, there was nothing worse.  A night of drinking everything but water would do that do you though.  
You whined as you shot up from your pillow, whimpering as you attempted to massage the sore muscle, curling and uncurling your toes, breathing heavily as the cramp twisted tighter.
“God damn it,” you cursed quietly as you rubbed your fingers into the tense muscle, releasing a slow breath when the pain finally started to subside.  
And if that wasn’t bad enough, your boyfriend snored peacefully beside you, completely unaware of your turmoil as he cuddled a spare pillow close to his chest.  Was it his fault that you had a charley horse? Obviously not… but somehow you felt like it should be. Especially when you looked over at him drooling on his pillow, back muscles fully on display, hair a mess, puffy mouth hanging open - beautifully infuriating, all at once.    
So before you took your pillow and smothered him with it, you got out of bed, slowly easing onto the traitor leg before nakedly trudging to the bathroom for a shower.  He was in the exact same position when you returned with wet hair and fresh skin, and when you returned an hour and a half later with a neatly folded basket of laundry, he was still in the same position.  You were half tempted to hover your face in front of his mouth, make sure he was still breathing, just when a hiccuped snore escaped him as he wrapped himself around the pillow more.
You padded over to his side of the bed quietly, taking in the long lashes spread across the tops of his cheeks and the hair that was matted between his temple and the pillow, before carefully reaching out to stroke the backs of your fingers across his clammy cheek.  His skin was soft despite the impossible heat, pungently sweating out the last remnants of alcohol coursing through his system.  
There was a part of you that wanted to wake him up, mostly because you missed him (you were supposed to spend the day together) and partly because you couldn’t possibly forget what went on the night before. You would be lying if you said it didn’t linger in the back of your mind all morning, the reminder making itself present as soon as the water touched your skin in the shower, a surprising similarity to his touch - burning hot and completely encompassing.  
But you loved him, so with a huff and a roll of your eyes, you left him there to snooze away.
It was nearly dinner time before you heard the ensuite shower turn on from where you were perched in an oversized dark leather chair in the living room.  You stayed put, wrapped in a blanket with your Kindle and a cup of tea when he finally appeared in a pair of athletic shorts and a Kendrick Lamar hoodie with the word DAMN. written across the chest, hair still damp and sticking up in every direction.    
“Good afternoon,” you greeted, receiving a subtle look over his shoulder.  
“What’s so good about it?”
Your eyebrows rose as you peered at the back of his head while he filled his water jug from the fridge.  
“Wow,” you chuckled softly, entertained by his pouty face. “I mean, you’ve been relaxing in bed all day while I folded all your underwear. Sounds pretty good to me,” you shrugged.  
“Feel like shit,” he shook his head as he made his way towards you, plopping down on the sofa with a loud sigh.  
“Well, yeah, nine Paloma’s will do that to you.”  
“Didn’t have nine,” he grumbled before he chugged nearly his entire jug of water.  
“I was being gracious, babe. Think you had more than nine,” you laughed.  
He shot you a dirty look before his lips twitched with a small smile.  “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine.”  
“Fine?” he scoffed, eyebrows high on his forehead. “Would have thought more than fine, love.”
“Why’s that?” you laughed.  
“Y’know,” he smirked, a smug look crossing his face as he playfully raised his eyebrows a few times.    
You furrowed your brows in confusion, watching as your boyfriend gave you a tenacious look of pride.  
“Uh,” you chuckled. “I don’t know.”  
“Last night?” He looked at you expectantly. “When we got home? Was good, yeah?”  
You snorted a laugh, suddenly realizing that he wasn’t joking judging by the cross look on his face, brows furrowed deeply.  
“When you passed out on me?”  
His confused blink had you laughing again, watching as he seemingly tried to piece together the pieces of your non-existent rendezvous.  
“Didn't pass out on you,” he argued.
“Ya did, baby.”  
His bottom lip pouted out just barely as he contemplated your words, eyelashes blinking softly. “Well shit,” he huffed dramatically. “Musta dreamt it.”
You barked one loud, singular laugh. “Glad dream me got some at least.”  
His laugh was infectious and heart felt, his eyes crinkling endearingly.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” you roll your eyes, unable to keep the smile off your face.
“I would make it up to you now but I’m afraid I’ll throw up in your mouth.”  
“That’s so hot,” you deadpanned. “Don’t think I’ve ever been more attracted to you.”  
He smiled timidly, a faint blush crawling across his cheeks ever so slightly. Before he could say anything else, you started to stand up from your blanket cocoon. “Well, not-laid me is going to make some dinner while you… I don’t know, do whatever you’re gonna do with this,” you waved your hand in front of him, motioning to his hungover state.  
He didn’t follow you, even though you half expected him to, and when you returned only 25 minutes later, he was fast asleep on the couch with your abandoned blanket draped over him.  
You released a sigh, accepting that the day was gone by that point, and went back to the kitchen to eat alone.  You cleaned up once you were finished and quietly put the leftovers in the fridge while Harry slept on the sofa before you poured yourself a glass of wine and headed upstairs.  
It wasn't until you were settled in the tub for a bit, topping off another dose of hot water as the bubbles slowly disintegrated around you that the door to the ensuite slowly started to open.  He looked like a puppy that had gotten into a trash can, tail between his legs and a guilty look on his face.  
“Good nap?” you asked as you sunk into the hot water again before tilting your head back to finish off your wine.  
He didn’t say anything from where he stood leaning against the door, watching you with his temple propped on the woods edge.  You glanced over when a few silent beats passed, eyes meeting his gradually.  You didn’t say anything, didn’t offer anything else up, but that seemed to jumpstart him enough to push himself off the door and actually enter the bathroom, heading straight for the vanity to wordlessly brush his teeth.    
You focused on the hot water as it eased your sore muscles rather than the sound of Harry gargling a couple feet away. And once he was finished, he appeared beside you, crouched down next to the freestanding tub, elbows propped on the ledge for balance while his disheveled hair and the look on his face tugged on your heart strings.  
“Sorry I’ve been useless today,” he spoke softly, a subtle frown pulling at the corners of his mouth.  
“It’s okay,” you eased. “You’ll have other days off.”  
“I know, but still.”  Full days off for him were few and far between as of late. “Promised you the day. And promised you other things too apparently... haven’t held up my end at all.”  
“H,” you sighed. “It’s fine, really.”  
You knew your boyfriend, you knew that he was hard on himself sometimes. Pair that with his ego being a bit bruised and you had the perfect recipe for a pity party, which judging by his face, he already arrived at the party long ago.  
“You can make it up to me another day,” you added softly, lifting your hand from the water to smooth down the outside of his misshaped eyebrow.  
He caught your hand before it dropped back into the water and pressed his mouth to the inside of your wrist. “I love you.”  His words were spoken against your skin, his eyes closed as he pressed another kiss to the same spot.  
“I love you too.”  
He released your wrist in favor of cupping your cheek, the warmth from your bath evident beneath his thumb when he stroked it against the apple while the rest of his fingers softly rested against your neck.  
His lips were warm and minty when they met yours, the softest slip of his tongue making your skin tingle with goosebumps.  
“Well…” his hand slowly trailed down your neck to cup your shoulder, your bicep, your elbow. “I can make some of it up to you now.”  
His voice lowered minutely, taking on the tone that made the depths of your stomach twist delightfully.  
“Thought you felt like barfing?” you asked as you stretched your arms up over your head, your chest extending out of the water as beads of bubbles cascaded down your breasts.    
“Feel better now.” His response was quick, immediate, eager. You didn’t miss the way his eyes trailed down your body, his hand caressing the back of your arm softly.    
You shrugged. “Maybe later.”  
Your eyes didn’t leave his when you extended your foot out of the tub to press on the bottom of the faucet's handle, effectively pushing it up and all the way over to the left to fill the tub with some burning hot water for the third time that evening.  
“I charge interest, yanno.” An expectant raise of your brow accentuated your words.     
A subtle smirk tugged on his lips - he knew exactly what you meant; the eager glint in his eye, the soft flutter of his lashes. It looked eerily similar to his expressions throughout the wedding, as if he was imaging all the ways he could devour you if you’d just let him. All the ways he could pay you back, how many times he could make it up to you.  
A bit of waiting never hurt anyone. If anything, it made it sweeter in the end.  
***
Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it. As always, I would love to hear your thoughts! xo 
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bonny-kookoo · 3 years
Text
Rabbit Boy | JJK x Reader | 🔞
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Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader
Wordcount: 10.3k (Long)
Genre: Romance, Friends/strangers to lovers, Smut, BDSM because I'm making that a genre now
Tags/Warnings: BDSM themes (please I'm begging you stop reading my shit if it makes you uncumfortable), mentions of restrainment, light shibari, edging, orgasm denial (very mild), Subspace, Domspace because yes thats a thing, Dom/sub dynamics, Biting, Oral (m and f receiving), riding, and not the horseback kind if you know what I mean, protected sex yes, we love an organized household, there's just so much sweet filth istg
Summary: Jungkook is wild, untamed, and doesn't really commit to anyone for long. But maybe, you're his only exception in this world. Maybe, you're really that perfect partner he's been looking for.
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Jungkook likes to think of himself as an artist.
Sure, if people knew exactly what the young man does in his freetime (or as a side job, don't judge, we all want to make money out of our hobbies stop lying to yourself), they would surely look at him differently.
But he's an artist, nonetheless.
Technically, Jungkook also doesn't need to do what he does simply for the money. No, his main job pays very well- considering that he's one of the top elite in his genre of games. He doesn't just merely play and win a game; Jungkook, just like most things he touches, claims complete ownership of the match he's fighting. It's a well known fact that he's someone who likes things for himself. He loves control, craves to lead, and hates to be belittled.
Oh and yeah- financially, investing in an indie-game three years back had also done his bank account some good.
Now, at an age where he can be fully considered a man, and not a boy anymore, he craves control in different aspects of life- and love.
Jungkook has a problem however.
He's wild.
Not in the way one might think he is (although several people could argue that yes, that's also the case in bed..) but generally. He loves to control- but he hates to be tied down.
And a mindset like that doesn't work well with relationships.
He's had them before, don't get him wrong. He's had numerous in the past, but they all either broke apart because he would hold that particular desire back, making him antsy and moody, or he would welcome his partners into his world, and become uncomfortable with the way things would progress.
No, he doesn't want to experiment. He knows exactly what he wants, and if that means he's 'close-minded' and a bad person, then so be it for him.
He never liked the constant company in his apartment anyways.
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"Ah, I've seen her before. She's usually a regular for Yoongi though." Taehyung says, checking a name for Jungkook, who's doodling on a napkin while he waits for his new appointment to show up. "I see. I forgot that Yoongi took some days off recently- that's probably why she's now under your hand." He explains, and Jungkook huffs, his blonde hair tickling his cheek.
"So I'll have to adjust? I mean, Yoongi's style is pretty different from mine." The young man says, not looking up. He simply continues his little sketch of braided hair, while the lanky guy behind the counter clicks away on his laptop.
"Probably? I can't check the logs since they're private, but from what I know Yoongi only did the usual with her." he explains, shrugging as he looks at his friend and colleague. "I can re-schedule her to Hoseok if you want?" He asks, and Jungkook, after finishing his drawing, lets the pen fall and stretches.
"Yeah, that would probably be best. Wouldn't know what to do if she drops- rather not have him rip my head off, thanks." He says, before he gets up.
"Ah- you're still coming over tonight right? Y/N said she's gonna cook for us." He says, and Jungkooks body shivers a little.
Your name is nothing new to him, but the reaction to it most certainly was. You're a friend of Yoongi and Hoseok, having joined in on their gaming nights a few months ago after Yoongi had insisted you couldn't stay alone on a christmas day. Jungkook had never really asked why you were alone in the first place, but he had never really cared much for it either. Sure, you were an absolute gem to look at; technically absolutely his type, but he had early on decided not to pursue anything at all with you. He knew friendship wouldn't stay friendship with you, his own hunger way too large to simply be satiated by platonic gestures-
and he was also sure you wouldn't be able to handle him, truly. The conversation with Jimin, one of your best friends, had changed nothing about that. Because he didn't know you well enough to quite know if you were only bark and no bite- or if you were genuinely craving the same things he did.
But most recently, there had been a change in his opinion on you. Because he had seen you, come out of this place, out of Yoongis studio.
You knew about all of this- and you were still around.
Nothing had changed.
Now, of course he had instantly poked holes into the poor guy about if he had ever played with you before- and the answer he had gotten, had made him even more interested and antsy to get closer to you.
Because while you trusted Yoongi with everything you had, he had never done anything with you. You had simply been interested in watching a scene unfold- and had told him that you were definitely interested in participating. The reason Jungkook couldn't ask you directly was a clear one-
You were majorly intimidated by him, to the point of, he had never really had a proper conversation with you. Partially, he had to admit, because he himself didn't want to involve himself too much with you.
He’d always asked himself; wouldn’t you be even more distant and reserved with him if you knew this side of him? Sure, you always joked around that he probably tied his girls up and edged them until they cried- but did you know that he genuinely enjoyed these things?
Relationships for him were mere covers to call the arrangements he had with the girls that came and went in his life in a constant changing matter. Deep down, no one night stand could satisfy his most carnal desires, and he was very well aware of that. But he rather took what he could get and lived a fever dream for a few moments than stay on his own simply because his idea of pleasure and sex was not the norm.
No, he refused to deny himself that.
Maybe it was because he’d always lived a rather lavish life- with his parents well off and his own career skyrocketing he never really had any worries like you have had in the past. For some odd reason, while looking at the soft red rope in his hands, his thoughts suddenly went astray; he knew he could give you the stability you oh so craved, in every way shape and form. You were a diamond simply waiting to be perfected- you had so much potential, knowing that you were secretly wandering around the same paths as he did made him even more frustrated.
The hints were there, they were obvious; from the way you had sighed out in bliss when he’d teasingly pulled your hair just hours ago, to the sinful confessions he’d heard that night when he overheard you and jimin by accident. Of course he’d maybe wasted a thought or two of you underneath him to humor him once or twice- but now with the rope in his hands, his mind immediately began painting pictures of it against your skin. Would you enjoy it? And what if he took your sight, or only bound your hands? What if he denied you to cum, or if he took you from behind, grabbing your hair and pushing down your spine to make it arch so prettily- never with the intend to hurt, of course. He knew he’d have to tame you first, make you submit, but then again, he loved the challenge.
You made even the idea of touching fun.
He wouldn't even have to undress you to fully get himself worked up, he was sure of that. Only seeing you bow to his very command would be enough to satisfy him. Of course, over the course of time he would lead you deeper and deeper into his rabbit hole, but he would take it slow for you.
So, with a smile, and a wave of his hand, he walked past the girl he knew had been his appointment- grinning at Taehyung. "Of course I'll be there."
He wouldn't dare miss a night with you.
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You were stressing. A little.
Maybe.
Maybe a lot.
Everything would've been fine if they guys would've all come over. But due to the bad weather, and Taehyungs bad habit of never properly fixing his god-forsaken dumpster of a car, only one of them would be able to make it. And of course the one had to be Jeon Jungkook.
Just great.
Now, it wasn't like you didn't like the guy, no way. The problem was more, that he was on the exact opposite of that spectrum. You had a major crush on him, which felt like the plot to a really bad drama show you would watch drunk at night- and in a way, it really felt like one too. Because you were pretty sure, he didn't even know your name.
But oh well- apparently he knew more than that. More specifically, your phone number. And it had scared the shit out of you at first to receive a message from him because how the hell did he get your number, but then again you remembered that one of your connections was Kim Taehyung- and everyone knew what he knew.
It was the doorbell that ripped you out of your skin almost.
You didn't even change, deciding any effort would be too late anyways; and you were still heavily confused in the first place why the fuck he would come over alone, even though you two had never exchanged much more than a friendly hello and goodbye. But there he was, as you opened the door- soft, white hoodie and ripped jeans, a bit damp from the rain outside as you let him inside.
He didn't move.
"Uh-" You started, but he just looked at you, friendly as ever, although a teasing glint in his eye made you frown a bit.
He thought it was cute.
"You didn't tell me to come in." He said, and you blinked once, twice, before your brain had properly restarted.
"Oh uh- come in?" You said, again, moving a bit to the side so he could walk in- which he still didn't. "Jungkook come on now its fucking cold-!" You whined, and he laughed, finally stepping inside. Had he always been like that? Could very well be the case, after all, you had never truly paid much attention to his behavior before.
"Thanks for letting me come over." He said, and you watched him as he untied his boots. "I had nothing else to do- and also, I didn't want you to waste any food, considering Tae said you cooked for us." He explained, before he got up again from his half kneeling position, boots now standing next to your significantly smaller shoes.
"Ah, it would've been fine, you guys don't have to feel bad." You waved off, smiling. "I was about to stop cooking anyways when Jimin had texted me, but well, then you did and uhm.." You drifted off, noticing how you were suddenly waiting for him to lead the way.
In your own apartment.
What the hell?
If he noticed however, he didn't show it. He simply smiled, and moved his hands inside the front pocket of his hoodie. "Ah, thanks. I appreciate it, really." He said, and you smiled at him as well, walking towards the main area of your apartment. It was small, very small compared to his own, but he enjoyed the feeling of it. Everything around him reminded him of you, in a way; from the pictures taped to the walls, to the stickers on your fridge. It all held a piece of you in it. "Your apartment is really nice, by the way." He commented, and you turned around, before getting plates and cutlery to bring inside the living room.
"Ah, right, it's your first time here." You said. "Thanks- the living room is right around the corner there, you can just sit down and I'll bring everything there." You explained, and he smiled, nodding without arguing.
You liked that.
Typically, there would've been this awkward 'oh no let me help you', but Jungkook didn't seem to dwell on it much, letting you do your thing instead of butting in and making things weird. He simply walked where you had directed him, sitting down on the couch as he went to place a blanket to the side. His fingers moved over the fabric for a moment, noticing how everything on the couch, including the pillows, were made of that same, soft material.
Interesting.
"Oh- you can just put that to the side, sorry I forgot to clean that up." You said, putting the food onto the table as he just smiles again. He waits for you to sit down as well before you turn up the TV volume a little, nerves finally setting in as you notice there's almost nothing you can talk to him about. "This is awkward." You comment, and he chuckles at that swallowing his bite as he looks at you.
"Doesn't have to be." He states, before he turns his body a bit more into your direction; a visible sign that he wants a conversation. "Tae has never mentioned what you do for a living." He states, an unasked question of his. He lets you decide if you want to take it as one or leave it as a statement- it makes you feel nice, in a way.
"Ah uh.. it's really boring, so I guess I never really talk about it either.." You say, and he tilts his head a little, a silent urging for you to continue. You feel insignificant next o him and his job however. He's superior to you in any way, and you don't want him to feel pity or laugh at you for your job. "I uh.. I'm a programmer for a.. pretty unknown game studio." You say, body almost shrinking in on itself as you wait for his reaction. Much to your surprise however, he makes a sound that's purely surprise, as he swallows his bite with a bit of urgency.
"Fuck really?! That's so cool though!" He argues, brows furrowed a bit as he playfully accuses you with his next words. "Indie or not, a programmer is the main force of any game. Did you work on any games I might know of?" He asks, eyes sparkling as he realizes he had finally found something to bond with you over.
"Uh.. 'Rabbit Boy' was our best hit until now.." You say, still a bit shy, but you're also a tad more confident now. His reaction is either well-staged, or he's genuinely interested in what you do.
"I played it I think. It was a bit short, but I loved the mechanics." He says, and before he can quite stop himself, his hand has already reached out to you, running over your hair as he praises you like second nature. "Wuah, so smart!" He says, before he gets a reaction he wouldn't have thought he'd get from shy-you.
Because you playfully shove him, your socked feet pushed against the side of his thigh as you giggle at him.
Interesting, again.
Now, Jimin has actually told him about this before. How you were anything but the shy girl when you were around people you knew and trusted. He had believed it- to an extend- because he had also thought that maybe you were like that to prove your spot between those guys. As the only girl, you easily got thrown under the bus, so you had to somehow own your spot in the midst of your circle of friends.
However, it seemed like you were truly just a brat, hiding behind that innocent facade of yours. A barking dog, with every intent to bite if needed.
And Jungkook knew, he'd love to tame you, show you your spot, and make you his prey.
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The trashy movie your watching bores you, in a way. Jungkook has noticed this already, having taken note of your feet wiggling around, your teeth nibbling on the inside of your cheek, as you rest your cheek on your hand, elbow resting on the side of the couch.
“I don’t know why she’s so hesitant.” You mutter, pouting as you slump into the couch- uncaring that the side of your body now leans against his own. He feels your warmth- and for some reason it brings him comfort to notice that you’re seemingly growing more at ease. “I mean, it’s what she’s into, right?” You say, brows furrowed as you watch the screen.
“It’s not that simple.” Jungkook explains, trying to not make it obvious that he’s not necessarily talking about the movie. “Some men like to you know.. fight for a partner. Impress them. Win them over.” He explains, and he can feel you shift a little- until your head raises a bit, watching him as he watches you; gazes locked, and you can’t look away. You’re shy, you’re growing restless, but his eyes are like magnets; there’s no way you can avert your gaze.
“And.. you?” You ask, voice not loud at all, as if you don’t even notice you’re saying it. He loves that- loves the fact that you’re slowly letting him closer- not only physically.
“I like to earn my spot in their lives.” He states, and your mind suddenly begins to spin. You’ve always seen him as someone who doesn’t care much about emotions or feelings, or relationships for that matter. And maybe he doesn’t- maybe he just says this because he knows your weak spots. But the way his words fall into your ears makes you believe him. “I like to see my partner thrive; I love to see them grow. And..” he says, boldly deciding to slowly reach out his hand that was placed on the back of the couch- his fingers running through your hair, only brushing through, never pulling (no matter how much you’re craving it secretly). “I love to see them let go.” He humms out, and there’s a sudden shiver down your back, one that he definitely notices.
This is it. This is where you’ll let him touch you, let him wreck you, let him ruin you. You lean in closer, and so does he, but just when your lips are about to touch, he smiles gently- a warm affectionate gesture that you’ve never seen from him. And with it being directed at you, it’s even more meaningful- but it’s all about his next move, the way his inked fingers trace your cheek, before he speaks.
“You’re not ready yet.”
And with that, he turns back to the TV.
You huff, and it's the first time you know exactly what you're doing. You knew from Yoongi what Jungkook did in his freetime- you knew that this stuff was his expertise. Defeated, you looked down towards your knees, as your thoughts start to grow more and more frustrated. He probably didn't even see you like that, having only visited you out of pity, and not because he wanted to see you.
You were probably already friendzoned, and he was too nice to outright say it into your face. It made your emotions turn sour as the situation grew more and more awkward for you.
"What're you thinking about?" He asks, and you don't answer. What was there to say anyways? You really didn't want to have this weird conversation where he would tell you that oh yeah you're a nice girl, but he's not the right guy, the usual stuff you've already heard time and time again. "Y/N." He says, his voice dropping a little, but you only chew on the inside of your cheek again, eyes moving towards the TV screen. You didn't want to talk- you just hoped he would now sigh and get up, leaving so you could forget about all of this. You could maybe fake being sick for the next week or so to avoid him, yeah, that would be enough time to gloss over this entire situation. But he only clicks his tongue, hands suddenly moving your legs as he moves your body to face him.
Looking at his face is your first mistake.
His eyes are dark and almost angry, irritated as he looks as you. His jaw is clenched, and his hands stay on your knees for a moment, before he's sure enough that he has your attention. Only then does he speak, his voice nowhere near as soft and light as it had been before. "I know what you're thinking, and I don't like it." He says, and that's when you make your second mistake.
"Can we not right now? You don't know shit." You say, and he stares you down for a moment, until his head tilts a slight bit, eyes growing predatory as the corners of his lips tilt upwards. It resembles a small smile, yes, but it's not meant to be one. No, the first thing you have to think about is a wolf snarling at you, ready to put his packmate into their place for acting out.
It makes your spine tingle.
"Hm, maybe, but we can be classy about it, no?" He asks, and you scoff, trying to move your legs away from him, as he scans you.
At this point, he can see clearly that you're testing him.
So he gets up promptly, moving you around so you're standing in front of him. His inked hand finds your hair, gripping without mercy as he pulls your head back, your gaze now forced to stay on his as he calmly speaks. "You think I'm not into you like that- and you're as wrong as you could ever get." He says, biting his tongue as to not let a petname slip. He'd love to use them, but he knows that it's not yet time. That would be foul play, in a way; he doesn't want to seduce you.
He wants to make you understand.
"Trust me when I say I'd love to just throw you over my legs to spank that attitude out of you right now." He explains, and you whine- not in pain, but simply as a reaction to his confession. "But you don't know what you're getting yourself into." He continues, and pulls a bit to interrupt your next words. You know that you can get free any second you want to- but for some reason, there's no urge to do so. "You think of this as some game to play, you think of yourself as someone who can take all of it at once, but you don't even get the simplest and most important things about this entire thing." You swallow, as you stay still, finally giving up your fight as he relaxes the grip he still has on you. "Even now, it's not me controlling this situation. Its you." He says, letting go of you as his hands rest on your cheeks, eyes searching for any clues of discomfort. Only when he finds none, does he continue. "I will only ever have as much control over you as you're willing to give to me." He smiles again, this time, warm and comforting. "If you're really willing to do this, we will do this right. You'll have to trust me first, and I'll have to get to know you fully first, before anything else happens. Understood?" He asks.
And you nod.
"Do you know what you just agreed to?" He chuckles, and, shyly, you shake your head.
"See?" He grins, breaking skincontact with you. "You're not ready yet."
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His brows furrow when he sees you sitting on the counter, Taehyung talking to you. "What're you doing here?" He asks, and you pout, as Taehyung moves away, not wanting to get involved into anything this time. "Stop that face. We talked about this last week, why're you here now?" He asks, and you tilt your head innocently.
"Maybe I'm here for Yoongi?" You say, and his eyes grow darker for a second, before he composes himself.
"Good try, but he's still off work." He states, and you deflate a bit.
"I just.. wanted to see, I guess." You say, and he smiles a bit impishly.
"Oh? I mean, I have a scene in twenty minutes.." He asks, and internally, you cringe. No, you don't want to see him screw or even touch another woman in the ways you secretly want him to touch you instead. No, you're technically here to maybe talk him into show you at least a little bit. But it doesn't seem like he'll cave in anytime soon, so you sigh out.
"Okay, okay, I'll see you around, I guess." You say, hopping down from the counter before you take a step towards the exit.
"Ah well, I'll drive you home then." He states, and you grow confused as he leans against the counter. "Seeing as my scheduled appointment wants to leave, I have time off." He states, and you skin tingles. "Come on now, before I change my mind." He states, as he walks you outside again, leading you towards his car.
"I didn't mean to turn up so.. I don't know. Sorry." You said, and he gets into the drivers seat, shaking his head.
"I can understand you, trust me." He says, as he starts the engine and drives off. "If you're okay with it, I'd like to get something from my apartment, and then drive to yours." He says, and you tilt your head.
"Why not to the studio, or your place?" You ask, and he nods.
"While those are places I feel comfortable, they're unfamiliar to you. It's best if we start in a place that's comforting and gives you a sense of security." He states, and you nod.
Jungkook, in your eyes, never really seemed as mature as he's acting in those moments. It's as if he switches every time you two change topics; any time this particular one comes up, his mood changing into a serious one. Now, you're not stupid, you know the risks- and of course you had somewhat done your research online about the damages that could occur during all of this. And there's also the not too little chance it really isn't something for you after all- and in a way, that scares you. Because you want jungkook, but what if you don't want.. this?
Instead of voicing that out, you simply keep quiet as he gets out the car, and inside again after fetching what looks like an overnight bag. "You're staying over?" You ask, and he simply throws it on to the backseat.
"Maybe. We'll see." He says, and you don't question him as he drives. "Let's get something to eat. What're you craving?" He asks, as he keeps his attention on the road. He notices how you seem to think, already able to practically see the gears turning inside your head. "Don't think about what I could want. I asked what you want." He says, calmly, and so soft, that you simply let your words out.
"Tae usually get's me food.." You start, and Jungkook nods, as if understanding. You watch him smile a little.
"Let's get some junk food and eat it in the car." He simply states, and you nod, happy that he seemingly really did get what you were trying to say. For you, things like these were almost like rituals- like you and tae getting random icecream just to hurry home every time to not have it melt.
Maybe this would become a memory only for you and Jungkook.
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"You're nervous." Jungkook says, speaking out what's obvious. You don't know what he'll do, you're confused whats in his bag- you're nervous, just like he said. "Why is that?" He asks, casually sitting on your bed with you. He had earlier told you not to panic-clean it; he was not there to be impressed. He was simply a visitor for now, nothing more, nothing less. You shrugged. There were a lot of reasons you were nervous. "If you want this to work, I need to have proper communication with you. Guessing will get me nowhere." He says, but his voice is not upset. He's simply informing you.
"I.. don't know what you'll do?" You say, and He smiles, sitting more comfortably, as he shows you his open hands.
"I'm not gonna do anything for the moment." He tells you, and you shrug.
"But wasn't that the plan?" You ask him.
"What would you want me to do then?" He asks instead, not answering your question. He's testing you, he want's to know if you really are aware of everything. He's also not only asking you about what you want him to do to you- but with you, as well. He was unsure if you wanted to romantically involve yourself with him, or simply explore something new at his side.
He's afraid he'd be okay with either, just because its you.
"Are you going to tie me up?" You ask, and Jungkook grins, before he laughs. You're growing shy, unsure, and he instantly makes sure you know he's simply laughing about what you said, not about you. His hand holds yours- and it's weirdly reassuring.
"No, although I can imagine you looking very pretty in that position." He says. "No, come here." He says, lays down on the bed, and you stay where you are, with reasonable distance between you two. "I want you to come as close to me as you feel comfortable. Don't force it- take your time. I'm not expecting anything, please remember that." He tells you calmly, not looking at you to give you mental distance from him as well. His eyes are actually closed, his body relaxed.
You don't move for a moment. You want to test how long he can really play this patient role- but after around five or ten minutes, he's still not moving. He's not even saying anything, and you're unsure if he's asleep or not.
There's only one way to find out.
You carefully lay down a little away from him, on your side, simply looking at him. It's weird to see him like that; you've always imagined him to be a very dominant and demanding person, from what you've heard and seen of him. But Jungkook doesn't feel like any of the guys you've been with; he also doesn't feel like Taehyung, or Yoongi, or Hoseok.. Jungkook, weirdly enough, feels comfortable. He's relaxed, and laid back, and still has that slight glint of power over you.
You move closer, your curiosity getting the best of you as scenes and pictures of him holding you fill your head. Is he even a cuddler? You can't imagine him being all soft and sweet for gestures like that, but then again, you didn't really think you'd ever be in a situation like this either. Maybe you were judging a book by its cover.
He smells nice- that's one of the first things you notice once you get closer. One of his arms is stretched out to the side- his tattooes visible, but partially hidden by his sweater sleeve. You want to look at them, so you test the waters- by touching his arm, just a small poke with your finger. You can see the corners of his lips twitch; he's definitely awake. You move his arm a little, inside facing you as you get a detailed look at his artworks. They're detailed, they fit him, the dark Ink a stark contrast to his skin.
His sweater seems soft.
You slowly lay down again, your head resting on his biceps as you simply lay for a moment.
This is nice.
You feel more and more bold with every minute that passes, not even minding the way he sometimes moves around. You're growing at ease, so much so, that you simply throw all hesitation out of the window, and cuddle up to him. one of your hands is on his chest, while your head rests ontop of the inside of his shoulder.
This is really nice.
"Are you falling asleep?" He asks, voice not loud at all, as his arm moves, palm resting on your forearm as he holds you. You don't mind it- you feel relaxed enough to really actually do fall asleep- so you nod. "That's good." He tells you.
"But didn't you bring stuff to try?" you ask, and Jungkook nods.
"We got time. A small nap is always a good idea." He tells you, and you simply nod- making him smile.
He's glad.
Because by falling asleep on him like that, you don't even know how much you've complimented him at all. You're relaxed enough around him, comfortable enough to let him close to you in a vulnerable state such as sleep. It makes him wonder how far you'd let him go- would you let anyone get so close so quickly? A sudden rush of protectiveness curses through his body, fills him up, as he swears he can't let you go now. No, what if someone else gets you like this? What if someone takes advantage of your open mind like that? He doesn't even want to imagine.
Jungkook really has it bad.
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You slowly wake up to a bit of weight on your face. "jungkook what're you doing?" you giggle, and he chuckles as well as he takes the hand away from over your eyes. He looks well rested, with his eyes still not fully open.
"Nothing." He says. "Just teasing." He says, but of course, nothing he does is just random teasing. Everything he does is calculated- it's to test you, to study you, to make sure he gets to know you. "Are you hungry?" He asks instead.
"Not for food."
He has to let that process for a moment, until he laughs. He's really got it with you, he thinks, as he suddenly moves, eyes dark, while he's now ontop of you, his hands holding your wrists. Expecting you to look surprised, he finds none of that however. It intrigues him, the way you don't seem to be nervous or fearful at all. It makes him wonder what you'd really do to him if he was to advance in ways he wanted to. "Careful, sweetheart." He says, and your eyes sparkle with a silent challenge.
"Or what?"
His grip gets a bit tighter at that, eyes a bit darker. "Someone's eager." He says lowly. "Don't you think you're biting off more than you can chew right now?" He asks, before he clicks his tongue, slowly falling into his own headspace. He knows however not to let himself slip. "Give me a random word." He asks, demands, and you say whatever finds your mind in that moment.
"Bunny." You say.
He raises his eyebrow for a second, but doesn't question it. "I want you to say that, loud and clear, as soon as you feel uncomfortable." He lectures you seriously. "It doesn't matter what it is. Physically, or mentally, or if you simply don't want me to continue because. I need you to tell me that you will say it." His gaze is intense, and you nod. "I promise you; I'll never get mad, or upset, or angry, or disappointed with you. My ego isn't worth your safety." He humms out at the end, and your eyes soften.
He notices it instantly, and it affects him more than he'd like to admit.
"I promise I'll say it if I need to." You tell him, and he grows comfortable again.
"Can I touch you?" He asks, softly, and you nod, before verbally answering him with a yes. "Remember; I'll only ever have as much power and control over you as you will give me." He mumbles, head now dipped down to ghost his lips over the skin of your neck. "But once you give it to me-" He says, his knee situating itself in between your legs to spread them in a silent command. "-I won't give it back." He growls, before he bites down, releasing the skin after hearing your delicate mewl, kissing the spot as if to apologize.
He's not sorry.
"Let me ask you.." He says, feeling you rut against his leg that's pressed against your center. "what do you really want from me?" He asks, and you open your eyes, movements slowly coming to a halt as you notice the way he looks at you.
He almost looks uncertain.
"I.." You want him. You know that- you want all of his bad habits and weird quirks. You want to get to know him and everything that comes with it. Hell, he was the main reason you even got into the entire scene in the first place. "You." You say, deciding its best to practice honesty.
"Me?" He asks, genuinely a little confused.
You nod. "Yeah. You." You say. It's a little weird, the whole situation, but you don't mind it. Your hands slowly slip out of his grasp, before they instead intertwine their fingers with his. He feels weirdly caught off guard by the gesture- his past encounters and relationships never having included things like these. So much so, that Jungkook genuinely believed those things to be simple movie-gestures. Overdone, and not realistic. "Like uhm.. if you want to. If you just want to, you know, I.. guess I'd be okay with that too-" You say, looking away, as Jungkook answers.
"I want you too." He answers, eyes searching yours for any glimmer of dishonesty. But he doesn't find it- there is none. There's just you. "I really want you too." He murmurs out, getting closer, before he lets himself loose, his lips finding yours.
He's never been a fan of kissing, but he can very much already imagine kissing you for hours.
Its not just you letting go in that moment, its him too.
Because unbeknownst to you, he's not just opening you a door to his world of unspoken fantasies-
He's also opening his heart as well.
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Your first time together is slow and comfortable.
It happens just a day after you had both decided to pursue an actual relationship with one another. He's gentle, careful, but not hesitant. He's exploring.
Inside of his head, he notes down every noise and every twitch of muscle. You sigh as he eats you out, the small ponytail of his unable to hold onto all of his hair as his eyes are partially hidden behind the blonde strands. He's watching you, his fingers having already stretched you out, but then he sits up. You whine, with him having stolen your release for a second time. "Let's play a little, yeah?" He says with an amused yet calm tone. You're already unable to do much about your position; your wrists bound to your bed over your head, carefully tied knots comfortable against your skin, as long as you don't pull. "Legs open." He calls out as you try and close them, and you whine again; testing his patience as you still go ahead and disobey his command. He watches, moves forward, before he pulls them apart again. "You want to cum, no?" He asks, and you nod, frustratedly so. "I wonder what made you think you've earned that reward from me." He tells you, eyes scanning your form as you pull on your restraints a little. He's not fully into his own headspace yet- he's still very much on high alert to notice any signs of discomfort coming from you.
He has to learn just as much as you do.
"You're lucky you're so sweet." He says, before he crawls closer again, his hand on your center, as he enters you with two fingers. Its not enough, but then his thumb draws circles on your clit- and you're approaching, quickly. "Hm? Won't you cum?" And then you say it.
"Can I?"
It's so desperate, so needy, so submissive, that it sends a chill down his spine. He moves closer, kisses your neck, as he can't help but let the rush of it get to him. He is, after all, just as desperate for release. No matter if its his, or yours.
"Such a good girl, of course you can." He tells you. "What a sweet one, such good manners.." He teases playfully, and you tug at your restraints as you come undone under his hands. He unties your wrists and you're holding onto him as soon as you're free, and he lets you hold onto him in your post orgasmic bliss.
Its after a moment that you realize it.
"Wait-" You say, sitting up to look at him. "You- I mean, you didn't get to-" You start, but Jungkook waves it off.
"Its fine, really." He tells you, and you know he's serious. "I'll just wait until it goes down, or take care of it in your bathroom if thats okay with you." He says, patting the side next to him to lay down on. "Come here." He asks, and you comply, before you speak again.
"You.." You start, not looking at him. "Could just take care of it here." You say. "Or I could.." you start, and he looks at you.
"Do you want that, or do you only feel like you have to?" He asks, and you shrug. You take some time, before you answer.
You've seen most of Jungkook until now. From his strong arms, his back, his inked skin, to his thighs and legs. You have seen all- but that. And you've never really considered giving anything back in that way to anyone because of one single embarrassing moment- but with Jungkook, for some reason, you wanted to try.
"I want to." You say, and he nods. "But I don't know how.." You say, and he smiles reassuringly.
"I'll guide you." He tells you, before he scans your face. He's never really felt that desired- at least not in the way he does in that moment with you. "You can take it out for starters." He says, and you nod, before you hesitate a little.
Jungkook is nice, when it comes to that. He's patient, always lets you do the pacing for now, until you trust him enough. This is only the start, after all. You stay cuddled up to his side, but your hand ventures towards his sweats, where you can see his prominent erection still waiting. Slowly, you push the fabric down, both his sweats and boxers underneath- his hips lifting a bit to make it easier for you, until he's freed from his clothes.
You've never really thought much about looks when it came to that department, but Jungkook was, in each and every way, highly attractive. Now you knew, that there was literally nothing about him you didn't desire.
Your first touches are a little hesitant, testing the waters, and Jungkook tries not to react too much to it to give you time. Its when you start to move your hand however, that he closes his eyes, head now completely resting on the pillows beneath as he just decides to enjoy what you might give him. His hips twitch upwards a little after you'd run your thumb over the head, precum glistening while your hand uses it as lubricant to move more smoothly.
He sighs out.
And you grow bold at that, moving to sit up and escape out of his embrace, before you dip down to feed your curiosity. As your tongue touches his skin, his muscles contract, the action not expected since he didn't look what you were doing. You've been told once before that you're not.. the best at this- but Jungkook made you want to try. If you would've looked, you would've spotted the intense stare that Jungkook had been sending your way; mesmerized by the way you tucked your hair behind your ear oh so sweetly, before you let a drop of saliva escape from between your lips, taking him in soon after it had dropped onto his awaiting length.
You really were something else.
He'd gotten head time and time before, and it was never something he didn't like- but he'd also rarely ever cared that much emotionally about the person giving it to him. It's weird, how an emotional connection can make you so much more sensitive to things- such as in that moment, as your tongue moved over his skin while inside your warm mouth, lips heavenly on his cock.
He couldn't imagine what it would be like to be inside you.
There's nothing he could teach you, nothing he could tell you to do, as you moved, sucked and licked. He was breathing heavily already, his hand finding yours as you hold onto it. He sits up, can't help it, has to somehow touch you while you're not letting go of your task. His palm escapes your hand, rests on your head instead, runs through your hair before it grips a little. You moan, vibrations making him throw his head back as he groans out, feeling his end coming closer. "If you don't want to swallow, let go." He grits out, but you suck harder instead, and its when your hand finds his balls that he lets himself fall back onto the mattress beneath, shooting his load into your mouth as you swallow it down.
He's on cloud nine.
You're thoughtful enough to pull his underwear and pants back up, laying on your stomach next to him, waiting, watching, with impish eyes. He looks so radiant, so relaxed, so at ease. It fills you with a weird sense of pride; since in a way, its your doing. "Why did you tell me you don't know how to do that." He comments, rather than asks, slowly calming his breathing back down. His eyes open, hand pushing some hair out of your face. "Thank you. That was amazing." He says, and you shrug.
"Thanks for the compliment." You say, looking at him.
"I have a request." He says, and you nod. "Not like that." He teases, making you blush. "No, but seriously." Jungkook knows that you've been with other people before. It scares him to know that some of your experiences might not have been good- he knows some absolute horror stories Taehyung had told him. "I want you to take all that you've experienced with your former partners.. all those moments, emotions, bad memories, all of it." He tells you, hand now resting on your cheek- a gesture in which you lean into. "And throw them away. Forget them." He tells you.
"This is a new start, for both of us."
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"How many clients have you been with?" You ask, casually sitting on the kitchen counter as Jungkook washes the dishes. Its your first night in his apartment, and you're more comfortable than you thought you'd be.
"None." He tells you, and you're ready to snort out a laugh, but he doesn't look at all like he's joking. Seeing your confusion, he continues while scrubbing a plate. "None of us actually have sex with our clients. Some only come to talk, really- others come to let go." He explains, and you nod. "I've never touched, nor been with someone intimately during a scene." He tells you.
"So you had scenes with your partners then?" You ask, and he shrugs.
"In the beginning, yeah." He admits, shrugging. "But I eventually gave up on it. It's not something a lot of people find very appealing. It all looks great in theory, but when practiced, most find its not for them." Draining the sink, he dries his hands on the dish towel, before putting it in its proper place.
"Could you.. imagine a relationship without it?" You ask, and he sighs, shaking his head.
"Not really." He looks at you after a moment. "Its who I am, and its how I love. I can't change that." He tells you, and you nod. Its understandable really, and you like that he has clear lines he likes to follow. It's weirdly comforting to know that he has his life so under control- its all you've ever wanted really.
It's something Jungkook might be able to give you.
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It was weird, the feeling of the rope against your skin. He’d been right about it earlier; it wasn’t rough or itchy at all. But maybe that was just because it was him doing it. Maybe he was simply fogging up your senses.
It would make sense.
“Okay?” He humms out, voice gentle and calm while he stops his hands for a moment, palm on your shoulder where it warms up your skin. You’re unsure what okay really means- okay like, he’s finished? Or is he asking if you’re okay? Or is he asking for permission? “Speak to me- don’t just think.” He says, eyes watching you in such a manner that made your slightly trembling body calm down.
“I’m not sure what- what you mean by, okay.” You say, and he smiles, eyes roaming over your body for a moment, but surprisingly not in a way that would make you feel exposed. You’re almost naked, after all- only your most private parts hidden from his sight. You can see the very evident tent in his pants; but he doesn’t seem like he’s frustrated or fazed about it.
“Good Job telling me.” He says first and foremost, and you start to feel warm inside. “I was asking if you were okay. Do you remember your colors?” He asks, and you nod, before verbally answering him with a ‘yes’. He nods again, a hand running over your head, fingers running through your hair affectionately. “Good. I’ll finish the last knots now- remember you can stop at any time. Don’t hesitate.” He says, and you nod.
He grabs the rope again; the tiny fact that he’d chosen one in your favorite color making you feel.. well, you didn’t know. You could feel your nose sting, before it shot into your eyes, making them water; something that Jungkook immediately noticed. “Color?” He asks, and you shake your head.
“Green, Green, I’m okay-“ you say, but you can’t stop the tears. He’s quick to sit down in front of you after tying the last knot- and it’s the first time you quietly look at them. They’re so delicate, so well done, but there’s no time to dwell on it as he lifts you chin gently.
“Talk to me.” He says, hands on your shoulders to give you some sense of stability. You’re safe, you don’t feel bad, but just..
“I don’t know. There’s so much-“ you begin, and he softly smiles, as if you’re not currently completely bound with no chance of proper movement. You take a deep breath, holding it before you release again, silently following the advices he’d given you prior. “Why do I feel so.. comfortable? I feel safe even though I’m in such a dangerous situation- I’m.. this is weird isn’t it, I should be.. I don’t know. Why’re you not doing anything? Wasn’t this supposed to be like, a sex session or something I don’t get it-“ you babble, and he lets you, before he speaks.
“You still don’t quite get it, do you?” He asks, and your glistening eyes stare up at him. “I don’t need something as simple as sex to feel satisfied.” He explains, and you nod, even though you don't quite understand. "I feel euphoric right now, even though you probably won't quite believe me." He says, his smile evident as his fingers trace the knots on your skin. It's there that you see it; the glimmer in his eyes, something you've never seen before with someone else. "The fact that you let me do this, it's all I need." He humms out. He looks at you, a silent question, and you take a deep breath.
You don't quite know what you're doing. Its weird- but seeing him like that makes you feel weightless. It happens slowly, you don't quite grasp what it is, but the feeling is nice. It's like letting go- like standing on the highest platform of the universe and just jumping down. And when you open your eyes, all you see is him.
He can't take his eyes off of you.
He's seen it often enough to spot it, knows what it looks like, but it still holds such a deep meaning to him to see you fall into your subspace for the very first time. You're so beautiful like that, so ethereal and enchanting as you lean forward to get closer to him. He's careful you dont accidentally hurt yourself with the big scissors on the bed close by- emergency equipment to release you asap if needed.
He knows escape is the furthest thing on your mind right now.
Able to do anything he'd want with you, he's not like that however. He's responsible enough to let you float for a moment, before he speaks to you again. "Baby?" He asks, and you nod, nuzzling his shoulder as he holds you close. "You're doing so good. Can you do something for me baby?" He questions again, and you nod, not parting from him however before he talks again. "Can you sit straight for a moment? Just like that, good girl." He praises as you instantly follow his command. "I got you, okay? I got you, you're safe." He repeats, as he slowly unties your body. It's careful reassuring and slow movements that make it possible to untie you- too quickly could make you drop; a state of sudden shift in mental state, that could send you straight into distress. Jungkook doesn't ever want to be the cause of that for you.
You're underneath him, and he's careful, as he undresses after placing the scissors onto the bedside table where it cant lead to any accidents. He also reaches inside the table, pulling out a condom from a box safely stored, before he gets himself ready.
Not even for a second is his attention not on you however.
"Hands up baby." He commands, and you do as he wants, already squirming as he advances towards you, fingers stretching you out as you grow huffy at the prospect of being edged again. He's quick to catch on though. "Hm, I'm not gonna be mean baby." He tells your fuzzy mind. "But I gotta get you ready, no?" Fingers steadily helping you relax, he waits until he deems you ready.
You struggle to keep your hands up as he enters you, but your mind is adamant on keeping his command. He groans out, kisses your neck, as he slowly begins to move lazily. It's enough for pleasure- but not enough to make you cum. "Good fucking girl. Look at you. My baby." He chants, and something inside you stirs at the last words.
His Baby.
You're his.
He wants you.
It makes you whine as he chuckles, nipping at your skin. "You can touch me baby, good job." He says, and your hands are instantly around his neck. You're mumbling something, but its not words. It's not coming out the way you think it does, and Jungkook doesn't mind, doesn't care. Its another one of those things fueling him up, urging him on.
You're his perfect puzzle piece.
He lets go.
"Turn around princess." He says breathless, and you follow his instructions eagerly. His hand rests on the back of your neck for a moment, leaves its place for a second to move your hair away from your face, before he gently pushes down. He's inside in a heartbeat, this time thrusting with more strength.
Something overcomes him that hasn't happened before.
Usually, this position is what he loves most- and yet, it's not what he wants. He wants you, he wants you close, he cant touch you enough. His arms snake around your torso, just underneath the bottom of your breasts, as he pulls you towards him. Your back arches so prettily, and he gasps out, breathing heavy as he continues his attack on your neck. "You're mine." He growls out, can't keep it inside anymore, his grip on you tightening. "Mine." His thrusts stutter, his hand reaches for your center, desperate fingers helping you find your release. It coats your thighs, stains the bed, and he pushes himself as deep as he can once he finishes himself.
He's breathing heavily, he's out of his mind, running on autopilot as his hands still hold you. He pulls out after a moment, a whine from you getting reassured by his own voice, before he leaves the bed, getting a warm damp washcloth ready for you. He's careful, gentle, seems to caress your skin more than clean it, places kisses every now and then and sends praises your way.
"How do you feel?" He asks, voice low and caring as he continues his aftercare.
"Like you love me a lot." You sleepily say, eyes still foggy, and he smiles.
"Good." He tells you, reaching out to kiss your lips, still high on his own afterglow. "That's how you're always supposed to feel like."
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"I've quit." He tells you one night on the couch, as you sit close to him. You'd asked him about his sidejob at Yoongi's- and this was his answer. Instantly, you sit up straight, fearing that he might've felt obligated because of you. "Before you start, yes, it was because of you." He says, and you already have the whine in your throat- but it doesn't make it out, as his fingers lazily trace your collarbone peaking out from his shirt you're wearing. "But it was also my decision. I just didn't enjoy it anymore- and you're more I could ever want really." He says, shrugging as you stare at him.
It was still new to you.
Although you knew that he was probably more than just a wild loverboy collecting partners and gaming all day, you never would've thought of him like this. He's a kid at heart still, teasing and playfighting every now and then- but he's mostly a strong shoulder to lean on for you. He really is the security and safety you'd always searched for. "What're you thinking about?" He asks, pulling you closer as he continues watching the TV show.
"You." You say, and he chuckles.
"Cute." He answers. He looks at you for a moment, TV long forgotten, before you crawl over his lap, shirt rising enough to give him free view of your thighs and panties. You've skipped the pants tonight- a habit of yours he enjoys a lot. His palms instantly find the soft skin, running along the outside of your thighs before they find your behind, squeezing, before he slaps it playfully. He grins as you squeal, admiring the way the very tips of your ears turn red. "You're really precious, you know that?" He tells you, and you shrug. "You are." He confirms, and you smile shyly.
"May I kiss you?" You ask, and he smiles warmly.
"We're not in a scene baby, do as you wish." He tells you, and you nod, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours. Its a feeling you can't quite get enough of, and it seems like he enjoys it equally as much. His inked hands find their way underneath your shirt, running over your back and spine as you shudder. He doesn't find what he seeks, your underwear long gone and left in the bedroom, and he loves it, instantly moves to your chest where he finds the soft flesh, his thumb running over one of your nipples teasingly. You're arching your back already, moving around as if you can't sit still. "My baby." He mumbles out, "If you can be so kind and get me a condom, you can ride me if you want to." He tells you, and you nod.
By now you easily know your way around his apartment.
So its no wonder you quickly return from your now shared bedroom, condom in hand as you approach him again, settling onto his lap. You're not shy with him nor his body anymore, eagerly taking the condom out of the package for him to roll it down onto his length. "You good?" He asks, and you nod, pulling your panties aside as you slowly sink down on him.
He lets his head rest back on the couch, and you lean into him, for a change returning the favor of kissing his neck. He's grinning, throughoutly enjoying things, and you love watching him. It's a visual reminder to yourself that this is your doing. You're making him feel that way, and no one else. It makes you confident, and it makes you feel cherished in ways you haven't felt before.
Once you start to move, Jungkooks hands help you along. Its slow and lazy, not at all hurried. There's no real goal; you probably wouldn't even mind not cumming at all. This was just being close- a way of feeling connected in the most intimate of ways. Connected like only lovers could be.
You love him.
And it slips out as a tiny 'I love you' in between your sighs and gasps, and he hears it so clearly, he can't help himself but speed up the pace.
"I love you too." He chants out, kissing the side of your head as you rest against his chest, head on his shoulder. "I love you so much." He says, almost inaudible, his arms holding you as close as he can.
Jeon Jungkook doesn't need sex to feel satisfied.
But he will most certainly need you for now and forever.
And he's totally fine with that.
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(c)Bonny-Kookoo. You know the drill. I know where you live. I don't. But still. Be scared. Boo.
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660 notes · View notes
iridecsense · 3 years
Text
𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘭𝘦 - 𝘮.
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⤷ summary: “You’re blue, I'm red, I wanna kiss your neck and make you purple all over.”
ꕥ word count: 33.7k ꕥ pairing: credence barebone | fem!reader  ꕥ genre: fluff, angst, smut ꕥ rating: 18+ ꕥ warnings: mentions of physical and religious abuse, mild violence and angst ꕥ kinks: femdom, masturbation ꕥ author’s note:  Credence’s first time requested by anonymous. Experimenting a new writing style with this one, I hope you still like it! This is very soft, but also sinful. I always suggest using Interactive Fics extension on Google Chrome and Firefox when reading my fics. Enjoy. ;) ꕥ key: (y/n) - first name (l/n) - last name (e/c) - eye color (h/c) - hair color (s/c) - skin color
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There are very few moments in life worth living for. Most things in life are mundane and repetitive. Humans aren’t as complex as they like to think. Humans are simple. Without realizing, it they put themselves into a routine. Eat, work, sleep, repeat. Eat, sleep, work, repeat. Eat, sleep, work, repeat.
Albert Einstein once said, “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results.” And yet, most humans never fall into insanity. How is it humanity survives such a dreary existence? The answer itself is simple. It is because despite living simple, tedious, monotonous lives, they still have those few moments.
Credence wanted nothing more than to experience one of these moments. Life for Credence was human. It repeated on an infinite loop, no matter how much he prayed for it to stop. Unlike most people’s lives, Credence’s routine wasn’t something to accept comfortably. There was no eat, sleep, work, repeat for him. His day started with an unsavory meal. It was usually porridge or stale bread. Then he would go out and hand out his “mother’s” flyers while she ranted in the streets. After that, they’d return to the orphanage where he’d surely get beat for doing something wrong. After being denied dinner, he would return to his room and cry silently in his bed, trying to dream of a life better than the one he lived. Then repeat.
Today was supposed to be no different. Today, Credence would have to hand out flyers around Times Square until nightfall. He hated handing out flyers in Times Square. It was bright, loud, and crowded, and the rich people from The Eggs always came down to shop and attend the cinema.
Rich people are assholes.
For the most part, Credence was invisible amidst the hustle and bustle of the square. People were too busy chatting amongst themselves or rushing to the nearest store or restaurant to even bat an eye at him. He didn’t mind it. He welcomed invisibility with open arms. Being seen usually ended with new bruises and scars. That's what happens when you’re an outsider, and Credence was an outsider in every sense of the word. He was an outsider to the rich people that pushed past him on the sidewalk, an outsider to the orphanage, and an outsider to himself. 
So, the lowly outsider stood hunched over in the middle of the sidewalk next to a cinema. Above him was a large marquee lit up by five hundred flashing bulbous lights. Mobs of people dappered up in evening dresses and suits, tipping their fedoras and clutching their mink coats excitedly entered the theatre. Credence looked at the flyers in his hands. Mary Lou gave him three hundred flyers to give out, and he barely gave out thirty. Most of the ones he did manage to force into someone’s hand ended up on the ground not ten feet away from him. They couldn't even bother to find a trash can. He wouldn’t dare return home with such a disappointing turnout.
The sun had long since set. The roar of the night became corrupted with wealthy party-goers. The Square was alive with chatter and street music. The streets were filled with intoxicated drivers flashing their fancy topless automobiles and the pretty women that shouted inside them. It was rather scenic, and Credence often found himself staring longingly at all the people whose lives seemed much happier than his own. It was one of the few ways he could pass the time.
He would watch couples walk the street hand in hand, seemingly in love. The woman would occasionally point out something on display she fancied and sweetly coherence her partner to buy it for her—to which they always did. He would observe a gang of college gentlemen around his age hop from bar to bar, obnoxiously laughing and roughhousing in the streets, cat-calling passing dames. In his mind, he was one of them. He pretended he lived in a world where he wasn’t an orphan and grew up in a wealthy family. He would have a mother who loved him and a father who was proud of him. He would go to college and make friends with other boys. Maybe he’d fall in love with a girl along the way. Someone sweet to please the folks back home. Then it would be him parading down the streets with a pretty girl around his arms in Times Square, and some other poor guy would be miserable in his place.
As his eyes wandered the streets, watching the snippets of other people's lives and inserting himself in them, his eyes landed on her across the street. She stepped onto the sidewalk in front of a boutique. Her hair fell around her shoulders in waves, neatly placed under a velvet green beret. She had on a slim fitting wool coat with mink trim over a lace-covered silk dress that shined in the night’s light. When she began to walk, his eyes followed her down the street like magnets. The way she seemed to carry herself was unlike the others around her. She wasn’t pink with liquor, stumbling in her heels on the pavement. Each step she took was one of elegance and confidence. He couldn't look away.
“Hey, watch it, punk!”
Credence found himself shoved to his hands and knees on the ground, the flyers in his hands dispersing in the air around him. He winced in pain and looked up to see a man angrily peering down at him.
“Watch where you’re goin’, freak!” The man cursed at him.
Credence kept his head down. “I’m sorry, sir.”
The man sucked his teeth and purposely stepped on some flyers in front of him as he walked by, pressing them into the wet sidewalk. Only when he was sure the man had gone did he find it safe to move. He ignored the soreness in the palms of his hands and tried his best to salvage as many flyers as he could. Passersby couldn't have cared less about the papers they ripped and crumpled under their perfectly pointed shoes. He picked up what little there was left unscathed—about a hundred at least. He was lucky most of them were still stacked together. He went to collect the last salvageable stack across from him when another pair of (s/c) dainty hands reached for them.
Credence’s eyes landed on a pair of green pumps pointed at him. His eyes trailed up past long legs shielded from the cold by nude stockings, green silk, and tawny fur until they met painted red lips and glossy (e/c) eyes. Up close, she was much more captivating. He could now make out her soft, round features and see how her (h/c) curls perfectly framed her face. Her cheeks were dusted a lush red. Whether it was from the early winter chill, or a detail of her makeup was unknown. Either way, she was stunning. It took him longer than it should have for him to notice the flyers she was holding out for him to take.
Credence awkwardly stumbled to his feet, keeping his eyes trained on the tips of her shoes to avoid her gaze. Even in his slouched state, he towered over her, but somehow he still appeared small.
“I saw that.” Her warm voice filled his ears, catching him off guard.
He lifted his head to look at her once more. “What?”
The girl looked in the direction the man from earlier had left and frowned.  “The prick who knocked you over was half-seas over! He could barely tell his left foot from his right! If he had, he would have seen that it was his fault knocking you to the ground like that.”
Credence didn’t know what to say. That was the most anyone had ever said to him without spewing insults his way. Even more peculiar was that the strange girl talking to him was trying to defend him. His awkward speechlessness didn’t seem to phase her in the slightest. Instead, her targeted vexed expression relaxed into a warm smile.
She urged the flyers towards him once more. “Sorry about your papers. I don’t think there’s much left to save.”
He carefully took the papers from her hands, noting how perfectly manicured her nails were. “It’s okay... thank you.”
“No need to thank me. No sense in being praised for common decency, right?”
Credence found himself speechless. He wasn't sure how to respond to such a statement. It was definitely something he should be grateful for. Most people wouldn’t look twice at him struggling on the street, let alone go out of their way to help.
The girl spoke through his silence. “You don’t talk much, do you?” She chuckled.
He shamefully bowed his head. “I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” she quickly assured him. “Sometimes, I think people talk too much. I don’t think people should say things they don’t need to, otherwise, words lose all valuable meaning. You know what I mean?”
He nodded slowly. “I think so.”
She seemed pleased with his answer, her smile growing ever so slightly. It wasn’t long before it was replaced with another frown. Unlike before, this wasn’t a frown of annoyance, but concern. Her brows turned upward and her red lips parted to let out a sharp gasp. She looked at him clearly for the first time, her eyes wandered over his slender form and taking in his appearance.
“Goodness! Aren’t you cold?” She asked, her voice laced with worry.
Credence shrugged half-heartedly. He was used to the cold by now. He only had a handful of clothes to begin with. He didn't have the luxury of having clothes that match the changing weather, he could only wear whatever clothes fit him from the donation pile. The warmest garment he obtained this winter was an old navy blue suit best designed for autumn’s chill, but useless against winter’s cold. She found it hard to believe he stayed in the cold for so long without freezing to death. Credence thought that was a bit of an exaggeration. It was a particularly cold November night, enough to keep the patches of ice and snow that had been shoveled to the gutters intact. With every shaky breath he took, a puff of white mist would follow. His nose and the tips of his ears were permanently colored red and, given his natural pale complexion, made him look rather sickly. But, he bore through it because he had experienced far worse.
Without warning, the girl took the liberty of placing her palms on the back of his hands. The gentle action was so alien, he flinched when he felt her warm skin.
“Your hands are like ice!” She gasped. “They’re two degrees short from falling off!”
It must have been true because the feeling of her hands was enough to send a fiery warmth throughout his body. Such affection was so foreign to him, he began to doubt it really happened. It wouldn't have been the first time his mind played tricks on him. Perhaps he was home in his bed, lucidly dreaming about a chance encounter with a pretty woman. In a moment, he would wake up, and the warm feeling of a woman’s touch would turn cold, and he’d find himself alone in his room again.
His theory was swiftly disproven when he felt her hands gently squeeze his. As if she had the brightest idea of the decade, the woman’s face lit up.
She took a step closer. “Say, why don’t I get you some tea to warm you up? There’s a coffee shop still open a few blocks away—I could drive you in my Ford!”
Credence blushed and swallowed. His eyes darted around nervously. “I’m not sure I should...” He mumbled.
“We can stand here in the streets like a couple of gulls if you’d like, but I’m not going to leave you out here to freeze, so you might as well say yes,” she smirked.
He wanted to say yes. But there was a voice inside him that warned him not to go. It was the same nagging tone Mary Lou barked in his ear. His mind spiraled, spewing scenarios of his adopted mother’s fury. He should be home by now. She never liked it when he returned home late. She would beat him again. She might even ice him—something she did when she was truly furious with him. The thought of it made his blood run cold.
“I-I can’t,” he stammered. “M-Mother is expecting me home—she’ll be wondering where I am.”
The woman’s once playful expression slowly faded. Her brows gathered at the center of her forehead and her smile faded. Credence was trembling and stuttering, helplessly trying to explain why he had to return home. His words slurred together into a tremulous speech. Passing pedestrians gave patronizing stares, actively avoiding the pair and whispering amongst themselves. The woman placed a comforting hand on Credence’s shoulder, silencing him almost immediately.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” She said softly. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I didn’t mean to upset you by it.”
She looked him in his eyes and offered a kind smile. There was a skip of his heart. A strange feeling weighed in his chest he had never felt before.
“Why don’t I drive you?” She suggested. “That way you can be home twice as fast!”
Credence took a moment to think about it. He found it increasingly impossible to say no. Against his better judgment, he found himself wanting to extend their encounter, if even just for a minute. He had the smallest inference that if he said no, it would disappoint her. The thought of disappointing her was something he didn't want to do. He felt obligated to appease her. She had shown him a kindness that he may never get again. He thought he could at least keep her pleased.
“Okay,” he relented.
The girl grinned up at him and linked her arm around his. His cheeks grew warm, and he tucked his chin to his chest to hide his blush. Not that she would notice either way. She gingerly led him down the street, trying to engage him with small talk. He tried to listen, but he would get distracted whenever he felt her chest brush up against him. She was so close and so warm. Her touch burned through the thin material of his jacket and made his skin tingle. He could smell her perfume, like lavender and vanilla.
Such an alluring scent it was. It smelled familiar and sweet in its flowery nature. It reminded him of the transition from spring to summer, when the flowers became the most vibrant and fruit ripened to perfect sweetness. He wished he could smell it every day. It would be a refreshing change from the stench of mildew and boiled cabbage he often smelled. He wondered if she always smelled so sweet.
“So, what’s with the pamphlets? Are you a part of that Second Salemers organization?” she asked, pulling him out of his fantasies. He looked down at her and saw her looking up at him expectedly. He couldn’t help but grow hot with embarrassment.
“Y-yes,” he answered.
“Really? So, you believe in witches?” She teasingly wiggled her fingers in his face.
"My mother does,” He answered.
“How interesting,” she thought aloud. “I can’t say that I believe in witches, but if they do exist I wouldn’t mind.”
“You wouldn’t?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I mean, they’re human like us, right? People tend to demonize things they don’t understand. Just because they’re different doesn't mean we have to fear or prosecute them. I think we should embrace each other’s differences and learn to appreciate them, rather than forcing everyone to assimilate to one idea of normalcy. If we do that, then no one would be unique. We’d all be the same.”
He listened closely as she spoke. He was absolutely fascinated by her. It was rather profound, the way she thought. Most people would disagree with her sentiments, especially his mother. The world Credence knew was built on a system of separation. A system that separated classes, races, sexes, and the able-bodied—a system he was a victim to. Never once had he met someone who desired to rid of it just as much as he did, and he certainly didn’t expect to hear such scrutiny from someone who seemed to benefit from it.
When she finished her societal criticism, she stopped in her tracks and craned her neck up to face Credence.
“Excuse my rambling,” she flushed. “I talk nonsense when I go deep in thought. Don’t mind me, I probably sound crazy.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy,” Credence spoke up. “I wish everyone thought the way you think.”
Their eyes locked in a moment of tenderness. His bold sentiments were enough to make her heart skip a beat; unbeknownst to him. Their intimate trance was broken when a passing car flashed its blinding lights in their eyes, causing the girl to release her grip around Credence’s arm. The loss of contact made his arm feel too light; as if someone had taken a piece of his arm away.
The girl let out a sheepish chuckle. “Well, this is it,” she said as she walked over to the luxurious motor car parked on the side of the street. Luxurious seemed like an insult of a descriptor for the magnificent opulence of the machine. The streetlight illuminated the pearl-colored metal that matched the white-rimmed tires. Gold embellishments lined the rim. Tawny leather seats contrasted the exterior and matched the fabric roof. It was something Credence had only seen in advertisements.
“She’s a bit much, right?”
Credence hadn’t realized how apparent the astonishment written on his face was. He expected the girl to laugh at him, but the girl didn’t find joy in his culture shock. She was nervous, as if she were ashamed of her possession, like he had just discovered her most shameful secret.
“She was a gift from my father,” she felt the need to explain. “It’s not that I’m ungrateful or anything, I truly am. It’s just that I would never have bought something so ritzy for myself.”
“I like it,” said Credence.
His words seemed to relax her otherwise tense demeanor. “I’m glad you do,” she smiled as she opened the door. He watched her slide into the driver's seat. He approached the machine cautiously, eyeing the foreign object skeptically. The girl watched him closely, an amused smirk curling her lips.
“You’ve never ridden in a car before, have you?” She asked. Credence shook his head.
“I promise there’s nothing to worry about,” she chuckled. “I happen to be an excellent driver. My father wouldn’t have given me one so expensive if I wasn’t.”
This was true. Such a beautiful car wouldn’t be gifted to someone who would evidently wreck it. The girl pats the empty passenger seat invitingly, urging him to get inside.
Credence slid into the passenger seat, the cool leather seeping through the thin fabric of his suit, sending shivers down his spine.
“Here.” The girl reached in the back seat of the car and pulled out a large grey blanket. “The car will get warmer as we drive, but this should be good for now.”
Credence placed his papers on his lap and reached for the blanket.
“Wait,” she stopped him, a small frown appearing on her features. “You’re bleeding.”
Credence followed her stare to his left hand. He turned his palm upward to find the healing wounds on his palms had reopened. He didn’t notice the sting of the cuts before, but now his hand burned with the slightest movement. He couldn’t help but feel exposed. He hated his hands. They were ugly. Permanently blemished with raised scars that formed from healing and reopening and healing and reopening at contact with his mother's belt. It was unsightly. He shied away from her, mortified. She must’ve found them just as repulsive.
But the girl didn’t seem phased by his calloused and scarred hands at all. She didn’t hesitate to reach inside her breast pocket and pull out a pink handkerchief to wrap around Credence’s hand. Again he could feel her warmth. Her soft hands caressed his skin, pulling him closer. She handled him gently, delicately folding and wrapping the silk fabric around his cuts. She glanced at him as she did so, only to find him avoiding her gaze with his chin tucked into his shoulder.
“I'm sorry,” he muttered as she tended to him.
“You’re sorry?” She let out a breathy chuckle. “And what are you sorry for, exactly?”
“I-I don’t know,” he stammered. “For making you drive me home. For ruining your handkerchief,” he said.
The girl sighed as she tightened the cloth around his hand and tied it into a bow to keep it in place. “Bunny, you’re not making me do anything. I insisted, remember?” She reminded him. Credence felt the entirety of his face grow hot. He turned to face her again, only to be met with the same (e/c) eyes and kind smile she had before. His heart felt as though it were beating a mile a minute.
“And don’t worry about my handkerchief,” she adds. “I have dozens of them. They’re more for looks anyway, I never use them.”
Credence nodded and silently thanked her. She gave his hand another squeeze before leaning back in her seat and starting the car. The car made a sound like a lion and roared to life. The seats trembled beneath them, and the headlights lit the road ahead. When the car jerked into drive, Credence felt uneasy. She drove the car well, and he suspected that she was driving at a slower rate for his benefit, but the feeling of the car moving made his stomach churn with excitement and fear. He walked everywhere he went. He’d taken the subway once before when he was younger, but somehow this was different. He fidgeted in his seat, finding anything to distract himself from the tight feeling in his stomach. His eyes fixated on his hands, brushing his fingers against the smooth fabric of the handkerchief. It was colorfully embroidered with flowers and lacey patterns. He followed the design with his eyes until they came upon two scripted letters embroidered in gold on the corner that wasn’t tied into a knot.
“Are these your initials?” He asked to distract himself with small talk.
The girl gasped dramatically. “I never introduced myself, did I? How rude of me! I’m practically a stranger and here I am driving you around Manhattan without giving you a proper introduction.”
The girl took one hand off the wheel and held it out in front of him. “My name’s (y/n) (l/n).”
Credence took her hand and shook it lightly. “I’m Credence. Credence Barebone.”
“Credence. What an odd name. I like it,” she grinned before pulling her hand back. “So, where am I taking you, Credence?”
He told her he lived in the old chapel on Pike Street. She fell flustered while trying to explain she didn’t know exactly where that was. Credence then told her she was going the right way, and if she kept going straight, he would tell her when to turn. While they drove, she did her best to get to know Credence. He answered every question she asked with a short and vague response. She didn’t ask him many questions to begin with. She mostly talked about herself or the people she knew, like her family and friends. Almost everything reminded her of them.
He figured she did it to make him feel more comfortable. He didn’t mind. He enjoyed hearing her talk. While driving, she saw a dress in a boutique and mentioned that her friend, Darla, would love to have a dress just like it. When they passed a tea shop, it reminded of her mother, who only drank earl grey tea; which, to her, is the most boring of teas. On the sidewalk, there was a stray cat running into an alleyway. She told him how much she wanted a pet cat as a child, but she couldn’t get one because her father was allergic.
He couldn’t help but be enthralled by her. The more she talked, the more relaxed he became. He stole glances at her when she wasn’t looking. Watching her lips move as she talked, outlining the bridge of her nose and the curve of her cheek. He had been staring so intently he hadn’t even realized she’d asked him a question.
“Credence?” Her voice filled his ears.
“Yes?” He answered.
“I asked if I turn here.”
Credence turned to look out the window and saw that they had stopped at the corner of Pike Street. It was a quiet neighborhood filled with old apartments that had dim windows and unfriendly doors. Sticking out like a tabby cat among tigers was the Church of the Second Salemers. A rickety thing dwarfed by the buildings that surrounded it. Credence’s heart sank. If only the ride was a little longer.
“I can get out here,” he told her.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” he nodded.
Her lips twitched into a bittersweet smile. “Alright,” she simpered. “Well, it was nice meeting you.”
“It was nice meeting you too,” He said truthfully.
There was a beat of silence. The two sat awkwardly, not really knowing how to say goodbye. Credence stared at his hands in his lap and began to untie the handkerchief.
“Keep it,” she stopped him before he could. “To remember me by.”
Would this really be the last time? He knew that she meant nothing by it, but hoped he didn't have to remember her. He wanted to see her again. He didn’t want it to end.
He gripped the cloth tightly in his hand. “Thank you.”
He reluctantly opened the car door and stepped onto the slushy street, closing the door behind him. She waved at him through the window, to which he returned in a less enthusiastic manner. He took a step back onto the sidewalk and watched as she drove down the street until she disappeared around the corner.
“Goodbye... (y/n),” he whispered.
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It had been weeks since Credence’s chance encounter, and ever since his mind was consumed with thoughts and fantasies of (y/n) (l/n). Everything reminded him of her. The melting snow on the ground, the smell of flowers that mimicked her perfume when he passed the floristry, passing women in mink coats and tea shops; they all emulated her.
He often thought about how different things would have been if he did what he wanted that night. Would she be with him now had he gone to the café when she’d offered? Would she have liked to know him? Would she have enjoyed his company? The more he thought about it, the more he wished he’d taken the risk—his mother be damned.
Now all he had were memories and theories of what could have been. Though, fantasizing became his new favorite pass time. Reminiscing about her was one of the only things that gave light to his otherwise dark, mundane life. Like right now, he was thinking of what it would be like to make her laugh while scooping porridge into bowls for the orphans to eat.
He thought her laugh would sound feathery and jovial; the kind of laugh that makes you want to smile and laugh with her.
“You’re smiling.”
Credence was pulled from his thoughts by his sister, Chastity. He looked to the side and saw her smirking into the pot. “What?”
“It’s not just today,” she says. “You’ve been... different lately. Happier, I think. Always smiling to yourself. Did something happen?”
“No.”
“Did you meet someone or something?” She persisted.
Credence scoffed. “How could I have met someone?” He refuted.
Chastity she glimpsed at Credence skeptically. “I guess not,” she hummed, much to his relief.
“Doesn’t explain why you’re blushing, though,” she smirked.
Credence’s cheeks burst into flames as he attempted to sputter an explanation. Chastity giggled to herself, finding amusement in teasing him.
“What’s going on, children?”
The sickeningly sweet voice was enough to raise the hair on the back of their necks and shudder their hearts. They turned around, craning their necks up to the banister. Mary Lou Barebone towered over them just as menacingly as she could in her own prim and proper way.
“Nothing, mother,” Chastity answered for them. “Credence was just telling me a joke.”
“This is no time to be joking,” she scolded. “We have a very important meeting today with Father Blackwell, and I will not allow distractions. We can't lose focus. This is our chance to spread our message to the church— to the city! You should be preparing, not laughing.”
“I’m sorry, mother,” Credence apologized.
“Don’t let it happen again,” she warned, before sauntering away.
Even in her absence, Credence couldn’t find the will to relax the rest of the morning. The threat of her looming presence was far too great. After the orphans had finished their meal and left, Chastity washed all the dishes while he cleaned the dining hall. Once they finished their menial tasks, Modesty came downstairs to tell them Mary Lou wanted them to hurry and dress in their best attire for Father Blackwell.
Father Blackwell was the priest of St. Patrick’s Cathedral. He was the most famous priest in New York City and the priest of the mayor. Mary Lou was very anxious to present her case to him. According to her, once Father Blackwell hears her pleas and shares it with the church, the city would finally begin to take her seriously and put a stop to the heresy festering right under their noses.
So she believed.
It was Sunday. Today they would attend a mid-day service and attempt to get counsel with the priest. Though, Credence doubted Father Blackwell would even see them. As he got dressed, he looked himself over in the mirror. His ‘best’ attire was a dark plum suit so dark it looked black if you weren't paying attention. It made his already pale skin look even fairer and darkened the color of his raven hair and russet eyes. It was the only suit that fit him perfectly and had few blemishes. He’d probably look like a proper gentleman if his mahogany shoes weren't so terribly worn due to them being the only pair he owned.  
He took the matching hat off his dresser and put it on. Hidden underneath it was the pink handkerchief. He took the piece of fabric in his hands and held it up to his nose. It smelled like her. Remnants of her perfume still lingered between its stitches. He was grateful she allowed him to keep her handkerchief. He felt foolish for ever trying to part with it. It was the only proof he had that she existed; that their brief night encounter had truly happened.
“What are you doing?”
Credence instinctively hid the cloth behind his back, turning around to see Mary Lou standing in his doorway.
“I was straightening my tie,” he says, his voice wavering slightly.
Mary Lou looked him over for a moment, trying to find something out of place. “Come now,” she orders, having found no reason to torment the boy. “We’re leaving.”
She walked away. The sound of her heavy footsteps thumping down the stairs was Credence’s signal to breathe again. He pulled the handkerchief from his back and folded it neatly before hiding it underneath his pillow.
On their way to the cathedral, Mary Lou gave each of them a stack of flyers. She wanted them to hand out flyers to the congregation once the service ended while she talked with Father Blackwell. If there was one thing about Mary Lou, she was passionate and determined. When she set her sights on something, she will do everything in her power to execute it. She’d been planning this meeting for weeks. She readied herself in the only way she knew how: through constant prayer and tedious preparation. In a way, Credence was thankful for it. When Mary Lou became enlightened on an alternative approach, she was far too busy focusing on it to bother him. It was one of the few windows of relative freedom he had, and they came once in a blue moon. This meeting could mark the end, or the beginning, of this liberation.
Sitting in the pews during service, he could hardly concentrate. St. Patrick’s was a magnificent building, an authentic replica of the renaissance with its high, arched ceiling, stone engravings, and vibrant stained glass windows. It was the epitome of class and beauty. So, naturally, it would be the one church favorited by the high society. Wealthy families filled the better half of the sanctuary. While Credence and his family sat in the back with the rest of the commoners, they filled the front pews with tailored suits, mink coats, and Sunday hats. As Father Blackwell preached to the congregation, Credence searched the pews for a familiar face.
He knew his chances of seeing her were low, but he couldn't help but hope one of those Sunday hats would turn around and reveal those sparkling (e/c) eyes. His leg shook nervously, his eyes darting from one aisle of pews to another. It only stopped when a firm hand tightly gripped his thigh.
“Pay attention,” Mary Lou whispered, malice laced in her tone.
Credence swallowed, his body tensing immediately, afraid of even moving an inch in her presence. He turned his attention from the pews to the altar. Father Blackwell was standing in front of his pedestal, reading a scripture.
“We are living in a godless time,” He said. “Satan parades in the streets, preying on our sons and daughters! When the night comes, our children leave and venture into the streets. The devil and his minions tell them to wear promiscuous evening attire, commit sodomy, and fornication! Tempting them into Speakeasies to drink the Devil’s urine and feast on the bodies of Lilith’s daughters! Our city has become the devil’s playground. There is no God out there. Only sin.”
Flashes of her face imprinted in his mind. Credence frowned and tried to push it from his thoughts, but he couldn’t. His thoughts became consumed by her. As Father Blackwell spoke, he began to envision things he knew he shouldn’t.
“‘The body is not meant for sexual immorality, but for the Lord, and the Lord for the body.’” Father Blackwell reads. “Don’t you see? It isn’t ‘fashion’ or ‘modernity’. The devil has infested the media to infect our minds. He wants to taint our bodies to further stray us from God. ‘Flee from sexual immorality. Every other sin a person commits is outside the body, but the sexually immoral person sins against his own body’... and therefore, is a sin against God.”
His cheeks burned, and he prayed nobody would notice. He’d never thought of her like this before. Yet, somehow, the sermon unlocked one of his most shameful desires. He imagined the feeling of her warm body pressed against his. He reminisced about the feel of her soft skin. He pictured the curves of her lips, chest, and hips. He wondered how they would feel on his lips. Would they be just as soft?
“Brothers and Sisters, we must rid ourselves of all sin. Protect your children, for the devil, has his eyes set on them. The greatest sin against God is the polluting of our holy bodies. We must practice modesty and chastity. Only then can we be saved... Let us pray."
The congregation bowed their heads and listened as Father Blackwell lead the closing prayer.
The priest’s words echoed in the back of his mind. Even as he and his sisters handed flyers to those exiting the church, his mind would drift back to the sermon. Mary Lou had left him and his sisters to talk with Father Blackwell. He watched as she walked down the aisle to meet him at the altar. Father Blackwell was already conversing with a member of the church, a stocky man wearing a cream-colored suit and matching hat.
She nearly approached him before another man stopped her. Credence recognized him as Deacon Ripley. Deacon Ripley was as galling as his face would suggest. His face was pointed and far too wrinkled for his age. Deacon Ripley had a habit of sticking his unusually large nose into other people’s business. He reminded Credence of a sewer rat, just as unsightly and full of shit.
He couldn’t make out what was being said, but from the looks of it, Deacon Ripley was reprimanding Mary Lou. Mary Lou did her best to get Father Blackwell’s attention, but he and the mustachioed gentleman ignored her calls. Mary Lou was never really one to lose her composure, but in her desperation, she attempted to divert Deacon from obstructing her access to Father Blackwell. She rushed to the altar, calling Father Blackwell. She began stating her case, catching the attention of those still left in the church.  
“There are evil forces at work, Father!” She shouted. “Heretics walk freely amongst us, doing the devil's work!”
Deacon Ripley came behind Mary Lou. “Pay no mind to her, Father Blackwell, she speaks fabrications.”
“This is not fiction, Father, I can assure you,” she says. “I have seen them with my own eyes. The devil’s concubine.”
“What is this you speak of?” Father Blackwell demands.
“Witches, Father. There are witches here in New York, working right under our noses—”
“I told you, Father, she’s insane,” Deacon Ripley cuts in.
“I am not crazy,” Mary Lou snarks. “And if we don’t stop them now, there will be hell to pay!”
“Enough, Ms. Barebone,” says Father Blackwell. “I will hear no more of these fairytales. Please, have decency.”
Father Blackwell turned to the gentleman and guided him to a back door where they disappeared from the sanctuary. Mary Lou, still determined to be heard, began shouting after them, preaching her testimony of witches infiltrating New York. This resulted in her being handled by a few clergymen and escorted off the premises. People whispered and gossiped as the Barebones walked by. It wasn’t hard to tell Mary Lou was humiliated. She put on a brave face, clenching her jaw and holding her head high. She grabbed Modesty by the hand and walked away. Credence and Chastity followed close behind with their heads down.  
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It had been about a week since the church incident. Mary Lou hadn’t left her room since. The only one to see her was Modesty. Mary Lou always had a soft spot for the younger sibling. In any other circumstance, Credence would have taken such behavior as a blessing. Whatever wrath Mary Lou was feeling wasn’t being directed at him. But the looming threat of her presence left him little to no space to relax.
Credence was helping Chastity make pamphlets in the dining hall when the sound of Mary Lou’s door opening and closing halted their process. Small footsteps trotted down the stairs and into the hall.
“Credence,” Modesty called. Credence stood from his seat and walked to Modesty, who handed him a stack of flyers once he was close enough. “Mother wants you to pass out these flyers around town. She said not to come back until they’re all gone.”
Credence took the flyers in his hands and reluctantly walked to the door. It was snowing today. It wasn’t cold enough for it to stick, but it was cold nonetheless. He already wore his warmest clothes, which happened to be an old navy sweater vest, grey wool suit jacket, and matching trousers. He threw on a grey fedora and ventured into the streets.
He didn’t mind handing out flyers. Anything to get out of that awful place was enough for him. It was just about noon when he left. He thought it best to head towards the inner city. It was Saturday, so there were sure to be people bustling in and out of shops today. It usually wasn’t a long walk, Credence was used to walking long distances. However, the nipping cold slowed his pace a bit.
In the first hour, he spent walking around midtown and passing flyers around the park. Handing out flyers in winter rarely yields any results. People are far too cold and miserable to bother pulling their hands from their pockets to grab a piece of paper. After a very unsuccessful hour, he migrated further north, closer to Times Square.
“Credence?”
Credence stopped in his tracks, his heart jumping wildly in his chest. He slowly turned around to where the voice had come from. There, in all her grace, was the last person he expected to see. He could see her even more clearly than the last night he saw her. This time, she wore a large, white fur coat that stopped at her ankles and a matching fur hat. In her gloved hands, she carried a small beaded purse that glittered when light reflected off it.  In the day’s light, her skin radiantly glowed, much like her purse. Her eyes seemed bigger than what he remembered, mimicking that of a doll’s. They were enhanced by the brown eyeshadow that darkened her lids and the mascara that elongated her lashes. Today, her lips were raspberry pink instead of the deep red he remembered. Snowflakes nestled in the nooks of her curled (h/c) hair, making her appear even more angelic.
“Mi-Miss (l/n)?”
He hadn’t a moment to process her appearance before she rushed into his arms, catching him by surprise. She threw her arms around his neck and rested her chin on his broad shoulder. His hands instinctively gravitated to her waist, holding her steady as she stood on the tips of her toes. She felt lush in his arms, the heat from her body sent warmth spreading throughout his center. The expanse of his neck and cheeks blossomed into a dusty shade of rose. His mind raced as he tried to collect his thoughts. He was almost sure she could feel the rapid beating of his chest.
If she did, she didn’t seem to mind. She held onto him, squealing excitedly. “You don’t know how happy I am to see you!” She said between giggles. “I was hoping you’d be here!”
Credence raised his brows, swallowing the lump in his throat. “You... You were hoping?” he repeated.
She pulled away, falling back on her heels to look him in the eye. Her hands still held onto his arms. “Well, I wasn’t sure if I’d see you,” she says. “But every time I come down, I hope I do.”
“You visit often?” He asked.
“As much as I can,” she admits. “I live in Kings Point. Do you know where that is?”
He nodded. Kings Point was a village up North by the bay in an area commonly referred to as West Egg. Many wealthy families live there in their ritzy mansions, throwing parties, boating, and golfing.
“Yes, well, I can only visit on weekends. Mainly with friends. But, lately, I’ve made a habit of coming down on my own, since I met you.”
She had said it so casually he thought she must’ve not realized how it sounded. Had she been purposely coming to the city, hoping to cross paths again? A small smile formed on his lips.
Her hands slipped from his arms and returned to her side, much to his disappointment.
Just then, a man behind her coughed, drawing their attention. (y/n) looked back and gasped. “Oh! I’m sorry, Eddy. How rude of me! I completely forgot to introduce you.”
She stepped back to the man’s side. “Eddy, this is my friend Credence Barebone. I met him a few weeks ago in Town Square. Credence, this is Edmund Tully.”
Credence and the man made eye contact. The man, Edmund, was tall; even taller than him. He was built, with wide shoulders to match his thick neck and strong, clean-shaven jawline. His rectangular face was undeniably handsome, with strong, straight features Credence had only seen before on statues and hooded green eyes. His blond hair was almost completely hidden underneath his grey newsboy hat that matched the tailored grey suit he wore underneath a thick, black, fur-lined ulster.
Credence was already intimidated by the man. He was older, around his late twenties. If it wasn’t his overall overwhelming appearance that intimidated him, then it was definitely the pointed glower directed at him. (y/n) didn’t notice it. Her eyes were focused on him.
“It’s nice to meet you,” said Credence, bravely offering his hand.
Edmund looked down at Credence’s outstretched hand. “Yes, and you as well,” he said indifferently, reluctantly taking his hand and forcing a smile. (y/n)’s brows wrinkled slightly at the interaction as she looked between the two men.
When they stopped shaking hands, Edmund turned to (y/n). It was almost comical how drastically his expression changed when he looked at her. His face softened and his phony, tight-lipped smile became genuine.
“(y/n), darling, I’m afraid I have to go now,” He said.
“So soon?” She asked.
“Yes, actually. Your brother and I have a meeting with your father and Mr. Finnegan around lunch,” he explains.
“Oh, I see,” she hums in understanding. “Well, you better get going.”
“You’re right, I must.” He took a step closer to her. “It was lovely running into you today, (y/n).”
Credence watched as he bent down and placed a large hand on her waist. She too reached around to wrap your arm around his torso. He watched as the man kissed her right cheek before moving to kiss the other. This didn’t phase her at all. Instead, she smiled as if it happened all the time. Credence felt looked away, upset by the display. Why did he feel upset?
The two pulled apart, and Edmund began to walk away. “I’ll tell your brother you said hello, shall I?” He yelled.
“Yes! And tell him that mother wants him home by ten o’clock tonight!” (y/n) responded as she waved goodbye.
“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Credence spoke up.
(y/n) looked back to face Credence. “I have two older brothers, actually,” she told him. “Aaron and Channing. Eddy is Aaron’s friend. They met at Oxford University. He and my brother both work for my father now, so he’s around often. He can be a bit... overbearing sometimes, but he means well.”
“And your other brother?”
“Channing is only a year older than me, so he’s twenty. He’s my best friend,” she revealed. “He isn’t here, though—in New York, I mean. He’s currently studying abroad in Japan.”
“Japan?”
“Crazy, isn’t it? Between you and me, I think he’s only there to follow this Japanese girl he met. And I don’t blame him! I met her before and she’s very beautiful, sweet too! Though, I do miss him a lot. Sometimes I wonder if I should have gone with him when I had the chance.”
Credence looked down at his feet as he listened. For some reason, the thought saddened him. Did she miss her brother so much that she would end up leaving for Japan one day? Would he never see her again? Would she miss him if she did? He didn’t want her to go. He wanted her to stay so they could keep meeting like this. So he could see her face and have her smile at him so kindly, like she always did. Her brother might miss her, but he needed her.
Credence felt so selfish for thinking such things. How could he possibly think he deserved her time? If he told her what he truly thought, how would she react?
As if she could read his thoughts, (y/n) took a step closer to him. He picked his head up to face her and saw that she was smiling up at him.
“But, if I had done that, then I wouldn’t have met you,” she says.
Just as quickly as his deprecating thoughts had come, they left once her words reached his ears. Credence could only stare at her in disbelief.
“And he sends me letters every month, so, I guess it's all right,” she chuckled. “So, how have you been?” She asked, bringing him out of his daze.
“I...I’ve been well,” he says.
“I’m glad,” she smiles. Her eyes travel down his form. A small crease forms in the middle of her brows as she tilts her head to the side. “You still haven’t gotten yourself a coat, I see.”
Credence looked down at his clothes as though he had forgotten what he had on. “No, I haven’t.”
She cocked her head to the side and furrowed her brows. “I suppose I could just buy you one.”
Credence shook his head, not wanting to inconvenience her for a second time. “You don’t have to do that,” he said.
“I wasn’t really asking,” she said.
“I’m fine,” he insisted. “Really.”
She stared at him for a moment, squinting her eyes slightly. “Fine, then.” She began unbuttoning her coat. Credence watched her, confused by the sudden action.
“W-What are you doing?” He asked.
“If you won't let me buy you a coat, then I won't wear one either,” she says simply.
Credence furrowed his brows. “But you’ll be cold.”
She scoffed. “And you’re not?”
Credence was rendered speechless. A small smirk curled on her painted lips. “Either you let me buy you a coat, or I won’t wear one at all. I can’t walk with you knowing you’re freezing and I’m perfectly comfortable.”
She was impossible. No matter what he says, she would always find a way to make him give in.
“O-Okay,” he concedes.
(y/n) grinned brightly, fixing her coat back over her shoulders and hooking her arm around his as she had once before.
“This will be fun!” She beamed.
She led him back in the direction she had come while eagerly telling him about the boutique she knew would have the best selection for him. He increasingly became more comfortable in her presence. He even properly engaged in conversation, much to her delight. And whenever she smiled up at him, he found himself smiling too.
The boutique wasn’t far—about three blocks away to be exact. It was a small blue shop with gold painted windows. Through them, Credence could see posed mannequins dressed in all kinds of fancy coats, dresses, and suits. Written above the entrance in the scripted font was a sign that read: Vendicci’s.
Upon entering the store, their ears were filled with Italian opera. The shop appeared to be empty. There were no other shoppers, and the front counter was left unattended. Credence followed her to the counter. On its surface was a small golden bell that she tapped lightly. The bell rang, signaling their presence.
Shuffling could be heard from the back of the shop, catching their attention. From the back of the shop, they could hear harsh whispers and unintelligible curses. A short, thin man came stumbling in. He had dark olive skin and chestnut brown curls that fell around his Grecian face. He was disheveled—the first three buttons of his pink dress shirt were unbuttoned, and the fabric of his pressed white pants were creased. Without looking, the man made his way to the back of the counter, mumbling in a language he couldn’t make out.
Following behind him was a woman equally disheveled in appearance. Her short black hair stuck up in odd places, and she had missed one button of her blouse. She wandered the shop, to mind some clothes on the rack as the man drew near to the front counter.
“Stupidi Americani... Sorry, we are closed for now. You can come back later when—,” The man stopped when his eyes landed on her.
(y/n) smirked. “Hello, Raül,” she waved.
“Bella!” He gasped and hurried towards her with open arms. “How wonderful to see you!” He said in a thick Mediterranean accent. He placed hands on her shoulders and pulled her in to kiss both of her cheeks. “You look even more lovely since the last I saw you.”
“It’s good to see you too, Raül,” she chuckled.
“Where have you been?” He pouts. “It’s been so long I’ve barely been able to survive without you.”
“I’m sorry, Raül, I’ve been trying to be more mindful of how I spend my money,” she explains.
“Mind your money here! I have so many new items you would look molto bella in. I saved them just for you,” he winked.
“That’s sweet of you, Raül. I promise I will come by and try them on at another time.”
Suddenly, the man became aware of Credence’s presence in the room. He looked at him like something had left an unpleasant taste in his mouth. Raül raised a skeptical brow and asked with pursed lips, “Is this man with you?”
“Yes, he is,” she says as a matter-of-fact. “We’d like to buy a coat. Something thick for the winter.”
Raül nodded and hummed, turning back to face her. “You’re just in luck,” he says. “Early this week I got a shipment straight from Italia: a fine selection of winter coats designed by Feliciano Romano himself.”
(y/n) gasped, clasping her hands together. “That’s fantastic! We’ll try those first!”
She took Credence by the arm and they followed him through the shop where they came upon a round archway covered by red velvet curtains. Raül pulled back the heavy curtains to reveal a separate room. It was small. The carpet was also red to match the curtains and the loveseats and chairs that decorated the room. In the center of the floor, was a circular platform. Above it was a circular ring of white drapes that had been pulled up. Across from the platform was a wall of mirrors, reflecting the room from different angles.
The woman from earlier had come in as well. With her, she brought along a rack filled with many expensive coats. She pulled it to the side of the room, right next to the platform. Raül thanked the woman with a playful pat on her buttcheek.
Credence blushed, having put two-and-two together about what was going on between the two co-workers before he and (y/n) had shown up. (y/n) was unfazed at all by the promiscuous interaction. Instead, she took off her coat and hat and threw them on one of the sofas facing the platform before taking a seat.
“Let’s begin!” Raül said excitedly.
“Stand up there, Credence.” (y/n) pointed to the platform. Credence did as he was told, and stepped onto the raised surface, awkwardly awaiting more instruction.
The dark-haired woman came up to Credence with a large coat in her arms. He didn’t need to put it on to know it wasn’t something that would suit him. She stood behind him and slipped the sleeves of the coat over his arms and shoulders. The coat itself was heavy enough to make him slouch slightly and tense his leg muscles to carry the added weight. The warm fabric engulfed his lanky form. It was made of strange, thick fur—not mink, but from another animal, he couldn’t guess. It was dark brown, and in some areas, it looked black. The length of the coat ended just above his ankles and the sleeves practically covered his hands, the tips of his fingers were all that were visible.
It was definitely a coat well suited for a more muscular type of man. It was the kind of coat that would be perfect for a large Russian mobster. However, on his lanky form, it just looked plain silly. (y/n) looked at him in the mirror, catching his eye.
“Do you like it?” She asks. “Be honest. I won’t buy you something you don’t like.”
“It’s fine,” he lied.
“Absolutely not!” Raül said as he took a step onto the platform and stood in front of Credence, looking him over intently. “I never thought I would say this to anyone, but, my dear, sable is not for you.”
“You don’t think so?” (y/n) chimed in.
“Miss (l/n)!” He gasped. “You are my most fashionable client! Tell me you don’t think this works for him!”
She looked him up and down, a smile stretching across her lips. “I think he looks cute,” she says. “like a cuddly bear.”
Credence blushed and shied away from her gaze. Raül tuts his tongue and rolls his eyes. “Well, he must be the skinniest bear in the forest,” he mutters as he pulls the coat off Credence’s shoulders.
“Want to try another one?” She asked. Credence nodded.
Raül went through the rack before pulling out another coat for him to try. He found one he thought might look best and took it off its hook before helping Credence try it on.
After he helped him slip his arms in, he took a step back to look him over. “How's this?”
It was a slim-fitting burnt orange fox fur coat that stopped halfway. It had a low collar and large brown buttons that trailed from his chest to the hem. He noticed how it was tighter around his waist and made his hips look bigger than he’d like. He thought it was a coat he would see on a woman. 
“It’s a bit bright for winter, don’t you think?” She pointed out.
“Nothing is ever too bright,” Raül argued.
She squinted at Credence’s reflection in the mirror, pondering the look. His face burned red and he silently pleaded she disliked the coat as well. His flustered expression made her stifle a fit of giggles. “I think we’ll try another one,” she smirked.
Raül sighs and slips the coat off Credence’s shoulders, much to his relief. The next coat was a black and white trench with large black buttons and a belt. Credence stood uncomfortably in front of the critical pair.
Raül crossed his arms, a small approving smile plastered on his lips. “Now this, I like!”
“I don’t know...” She hummed. “What do you think, Credence?”
“It’s itchy,” he says.
“It’s tweed,” Raül said, as though it made it better.
She giggled and looked at Raül. “Another?”
They went through several different coats, most of which were unflattering or uncomfortable. Credence thought the others were doing it on purpose — at least, he felt like she was. There was something about the playful smirk that curled the corners of her lips whenever he was dressed in a seemingly ridiculous or feminine coat that made him feel as though she had taken joy in dressing him up and watching his cheeks turn red from embarrassment whenever she expressed how ‘cute’ he looked. While there may have been no initial mal-intent when she initially insisted on buying him a coat, he was starting to feel like she was toying with him; teasing him for her own pleasure. 
Raül pulled another unsatisfying coat off of his shoulders only to replace it with another. The weighted coat comfortably slipped onto his shoulders. When Raül properly fit the coat onto him, he took a step back, a small smile gracing his features. Credence turned his neck to look back at (y/n) who had a similar expression of approval.
“Wow.” She whispered.
The coat was indeed impressive in a simplistic kind of way. It wasn’t too flashy or extraordinary. Just a simple black trench that fell to his knees. It was a sharp, angular cut, one that seemed to broaden his shoulders to imitate a somewhat muscular appearance. The shade of black complimented his pale skin and matched his raven locks, making him appear more porcelain than before. 
“Magnifico! So handsome, like a dark prince!” Raül cheered. His assistant then too voiced her agreement.
(y/n) moved from the sofa to the platform where Credence stood. She eyed him closely, circling him before stopping in his eye-view. She ran her hands up his arms, feeling the material under her skin. She dragged them up and across his shoulders, before stopping at his chest. Credence’s heart drummed against his chest, excited by her touch. He wondered if she could feel it through the coat.
“Do you like it?” she asked him.
“I do,” he says, truthfully this time.
She smiled and turned to face Raül. “We’ll take it!”
(y/n) left with Raül and the woman from earlier to pay for the dashing coat, leaving Credence alone in the dressing room. He looked himself over in the mirror, admiring how he looked in the black material. He couldn’t deny how good he looked in it. For the first time he looked, normal. Better than normal—he looked like a proper gentleman. Sure, a real ritz could snuff him out in a heartbeat, but to the average New Yorker, he could pass for someone on the same caliber as (y/n). It was like looking at the version of him he always wanted to be.
It wasn’t long before the fleeting fantasy soured. The rational part of his brain picked at the flaws of this entire interaction. How would he explain to his mother where he got such an expensive coat? If she saw him wearing it, she would definitely ask questions he was afraid to answer. Either way, he knew he couldn’t be seen with it on while she was around. But he couldn’t throw it away; not when she went through all the trouble of buying it for him. And it was such a nice coat... Credence shook the worries from his mind. He couldn’t think about it now. 
After (y/n) paid for the coat, the two bid Raül goodbye and ventured back out into the cold. Already, Credence noticed a stark difference of the cold with the coat protecting his skin. It dulled the nipping chill that never left during the winter months. 
“Much better, isn’t it? ‘Not cold’ my ass,” she snarked playfully. She fished around her coat pocket and pulled out a pair of black leather gloves. “Take these.”
Credence eyed the gloves questionably. (y/n) sighed and took his hand from his side, sliding the gloves on before doing the same with the other. “There,” she grinned. “I wasn’t sure if these were gonna be the right size, but look! They’re perfect!”
“But... you didn’t have to buy these for me,” said Credence.
“I didn’t buy them,” she says. “Raül gave them to me—well, to you. He says those gloves must go with that coat. I have to say I agree; they really complete the look.” She began walking down the street again, prompting him to follow her. “And don’t worry about the coat, okay? Like I said before, it’s on me,” she reminded him.
Credence still felt couldn’t accept something so valuable without thanking her. She bought him a coat because she cared about how he was feeling, just like when she helped him off the street all those weeks ago. He felt indebted to her—grateful to her. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he returned the favor tenfold. 
To her, this was obvious. She could tell buying the coat bothered him. He was so tense. He probably would never relax around her unless he somehow proved that he deserved to. Perhaps she can help him see. She glanced at the taller boy from the corner of her eye.
“But,” she sighed. “If you’re still looking for some way to repay me, I can think of something I’d like you to do.”
Credence perked up. “Really? What is it?”
She grins up at him, showing her pearly white teeth. “Go on a date with me.”
Credence’s eyes widened. “W-What?”
(y/n) chuckled. “If you don’t want to go on a date with me, that’s fine.”
“No!” He said all too desperately. He blushed at his own excitement. “I mean... Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“It’s why I suggested it, isn’t it?”
Credence blushed. A date? He’d imagined taking her on a date in his head about a hundred times. He thought of what he might say and do on the chance he got to be alone with her again. Maybe this time he’ll follow through.
“Okay,” he gave in. “Where do you want to go?”
“How eager are you!” She laughed. “I didn’t even say when and you’re already trying to sweep me off my feet, huh? Either that or you’re just trying to get rid of me.”
“T-That’s not how I meant it!” he stammered.
(y/n) giggled at his demise. “I’m just teasing you, Bunny. No need to turn so red,” she smirked.
She didn’t help his case when she slipped her arm between his to link their arms. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to her being so close to him. No matter how many times she touched him, he always managed to get flustered. It’s probably why she did it so much, just to see him blush.
“Now is as good a time as any,” she said while smiling up at him. “Are you hungry? I’m starving!”
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They walked through the city together, arm in arm. Unlike last time, Credence attempted to be more interactive with her. (y/n) was definitely the more dominant converser, but his attempts to be more engaging with her didn’t go unnoticed. He asked her the questions that have been collecting in his head since they met.
He asked her what she did in her spare time (paint) and what her favorite food was (chocolate). He learned that she was a Columbia scholar currently on break and that she recently adopted a hairless cat named Onyx (it was the only cat her father wasn’t allergic to). Talking with her became easy. He even made her laugh a few times.
While they walked, Credence felt like they passed about twenty different restaurants and cafés he thought she would like. But whenever he thought they were about to stop, she kept going. He was wondering where exactly she was taking him. 
“Are we eating somewhere in particular?” He asked discreetly.
(y/n) nodded and hummed. “I’m taking you to one of the best places on earth. Salone’s! It’s not that far from here. It’s been a while since I’ve been, but I’m really craving it. Have you ever been there before?” She asked.
Credence shook his head. “Never,” he said, causing her to gasp dramatically.
“Oh, now we definitely have to go! What kind of person would I be if I let you go on living without experiencing God’s gift to man? And by ‘God’ I mean Dixie Salone, the owner.”
When they turned the corner, there was a small restaurant named Salone’s across the street. Taking precautious measures, (y/n) gingerly led Credence across the street and to the restaurant. When they opened the door, the smell of grease and peanuts filled the air. The place was reasonably packed, with average looking people all looking at them as they entered the room. (y/n) looked out of place in her rather extravagant attire, though now—with her on his arm and his new coat—he probably looked just as pretentious as she.
If (y/n) noticed the leering eyes of the other customers, she didn’t show it. Instead, she scoured the area for a place to sit, before landing on a booth tucked away in the back. They claimed the booth for themselves. Credence took the booth facing the door, shedding his outer attire and tucking it away in the seat corner. (y/n) slid into the seat across from him, shrugging off her coat and hat, revealing her clothes underneath.
Underneath the mound of fur, was a matching white dress. Unaccommodating to the weather, the dress underneath hung off her shoulders. It had long sleeves, but the upper half of her chest and her shoulders were exposed. Though, Credence figured when you have fur to wear over your clothes, it doesn’t matter much what you wear under it. The fabric was velvet, which must have also helped. From what he could see, it hugged her body well. Credence looked down at his hands on his lap, realizing he had been staring a bit too long. Lucky for him, she hadn’t noticed.
On the table were two menus placed before them. He looked down at the large printed sheet. Credence had never been to a restaurant before. He had eaten nowhere else but the church. He ate once a day (if he ate at all) and it was the same thing almost every time: porridge and stale bread. But on the menu before him, there was no porridge or stale bread at all. There was soup, steak, chicken, and almost every kind of pie. He felt his mouth watering just thinking about it. 
“Don’t bother looking at the menu,” (y/n) told him, gaining his attention. “I’m going to order for you. This place is really only good for two things, everything else is subpar, trust me.”
He looked at the menu again, mildly disappointed. He was looking forward to trying fried chicken. He took a moment to look around the diner. Most of the people there looked like working classmen: factory workers or nannies. Some still wore their uniforms under layers of sweaters and scarves. Others wore regular everyday clothes. Many of those who eyed them upon their entry returned their attention to their food and prior conversations. Though, there were a few that still snuck looks at their table in the back. Some were harmless, like the little girl who was staring at (y/n) in awe. Some were more menacing, like the rugged-looking man sitting on a stool by the counter who seemed annoyed by their presence.
(y/n) noticed that Credence’s eyes were shifting around the room pointedly. “Is something the matter?” She asked.
“It’s just...” He began. “I never thought you would be the type to eat at a place like this.”
“I guess it does seem a bit funny, huh? I look like someone who’d frequent an uptown steakhouse, right?” She chuckled. “Truth is, I’ve never had a big part in that lifestyle. Banquets and fine dining, I mean. It’s all fake and pretentious. But this—” she gestured to the room around them. “This is real. The food is real. The people are real. Do you know what I mean?”
Credence nodded. “I think so.”
“Some of my favorite memories take place here. My father would take me here when I was little on his days off. It was one of the happiest times of my life. I guess I wanted to relive that with you today.”
Credence took notice in the look in her eyes. He could tell that recalling such memories saddened her. He didn’t like seeing her upset, but, at the same time, he was glad she wanted to share something so important to her with him. One day, he hoped to do the same.
Not long after that, a young woman dressed in a red dress and a white apron with a stitched red S on the bottom corner walked up to their table with a notepad in hand.
“Hello and welcome to Salone’s, what can I get the lovely couple today?” The waitress asked. Credence couldn’t help but blush after being referred to as a couple.
“Yes,” (y/n) said happily. “Today we’ll—” she stopped mid-sentence before glancing at Credence across the table. She smirked and waved the waitress down to her.
The waitress smiled and got down on her knees next to her. (y/n) grabbed a menu and held it in front of their faces so Credence couldn’t tell what she was whispering. He watched in confusion as (y/n) whispered their order to the waitress.
The waitress nodded, and every once in a while he heard her giggle. “Yes, alright... okay... got it!”
The woman stood back up on her feet and smiled down at the two diners. “If you two just wait here, I will be right back with your orders,” she said cheerfully before trotting off.
“What did you get?” Credence asked once she had left.
(y/n) shook her head and held her fingers to her lips to imitate the motion of closing a zipper. “It’s a surprise,” she winked.
Credence nodded, having decided to trust her decision. In the meantime, while they waited for their food, (y/n) engaged in another conversation with him. It was a continuation of their earlier conversation about pets. (y/n) wanted to know if Credence had any pets. When he told her he never had a pet, she asked him what kinds of animals he likes. He told her that he never met many other animals before. He’d seen many rats in his life, but that just came with the joys of living in New York City. But he thought it appropriate to mention he once made a bond with a stray cat when he was younger.
It was a black skinny thing, with a chewed off ear, and part of its tail was missing. One day, when he’d been left out on the streets as a punishment (he told her he was walking home), the cat came up to him and was begging for food. Lucky for the cat, he had a piece of bread in his pocket. He gave it to the sad creature, and it ate it from his hand. He’d never pet a cat before then, but he liked how it’s fur felt when he brushed it, and the sounds of the cat’s meows. After he told her that story, he stated that he probably liked cats the best.
“We’re just alike! Maybe one day I can take you to meet Onyx,” she suggested.
The corners of Credence’s lips curled up softly. “I’d like that,” he said.
Just then, the woman from earlier came up to them with their order on a large silver platter. The waitress placed the hot food onto the table, along with their drinks before leaving them to enjoy their meal. Credence looked down at the plate of food in front of him.
“Burgers?”
“Burgers,” she repeated excitedly. “If there’s one thing this place can make, it’s a damn good burger. Well, that and a mean vanilla milkshake! The fries aren’t half bad either,” she says as she pops one in her mouth.
Meat and fried potatoes filled his nostrils. The burger was as big as the plate it came on. The sesame bun was soft and round, and the edges appeared to be lightly toasted. Crunchy lettuce, cheese, and two slices of bacon coated in mayonnaise and ketchup poked out from the sides on top of a thick beef patty. (y/n) smiled in amusement as she watched Credence carefully take the burger in his hands. His eyes were practically sparkling with excitement.
“Go on,” she encouraged. “Take your first bite! I want to see the look on your face when the juicy meat hits your tongue.”
Credence glanced at her across the table, before opening his mouth and taking a generous bite out of the hefty burger. Various flavors overstimulated his senses. The beef and pork collided with the onions, lettuce, cheese, and condiments to create an unfamiliar taste he’d never experienced before. The meat was succulent and juicy, just as she said it would be. The cut of the beef was thick and chewy, and the bacon was crispy and flavorful. The bun was soft and crunchy and tasted as though it was toasted with butter. It wasn’t stale at all! It was like it came fresh out of the bakery just before it wound up on his plate. 
It was the best thing he’d ever tasted.
“Well?”
Credence hadn’t even realized he closed his eyes, but when he opened them, (y/n) was looking at him expectantly. He swallowed the delicious food and licked his lips greedily, chuckling softly.
“It’s good,” he smiled.
A wide grin stretched across her painted lips. It was the first time he’d laughed around her.
“You have a pretty smile, you know that?” She told him.
Credence’s cheeks reddened for the thirtieth time that day, and he lowered his head to hide it from her.
(y/n) chuckled softly before taking his basket of fries. “Here.” She took the red ketchup bottle from the side of the table and drizzled the condiment over the fries in a zig-zag pattern before sliding the basket back towards him.
“Thank you,” he muttered bashfully through a mouth full of food.
“You’ve got ketchup on the side of your mouth,” she told him.
Without thinking, he stuck his tongue out to lick the spot clean. (y/n) smirked in amusement, watching him do so, finding it cute.
“Did I get it?” He asked.
She snickered and reached her hand across the table to the side of his face. Her thumb gently swiped the corner of his mouth. The action took him by surprise. He sat tensely as she did it. It was a quick moment— a gentle touch, and yet his entire body burned with heat at the contact. When she pulled away and leaned back in her seat, the warmth still lingered. She looked him in the eyes, not breaking contact as she brought her thumb to her lips. The pink flesh of her tongue darted out and lewdly flattened against the pad of her thumb, cleaning it of the ketchup.
Credence felt his body ache at the simple action, the tips of his ears burning incredibly hot. (y/n), who was by no means ignorant to the effect she had on him, could only smirk and marvel at the rosy tint of his cheeks. Credence was grateful she didn’t draw attention to it. It was easier to hide how flustered she made him when they were outside, and he could blame his feverishness on the cold. Now that they were inside and it was warm, it made it harder to deny. He couldn’t bear being teased by her further, he felt like he might explode. She must have sensed it too, because she made no other moves to make him blush after that. She acted as though it didn’t happen and continued to eat her food. Credence then too returned to eating, praying that the ache he felt went away. 
It did, with the help of other distractions. (y/n) continued innocent conversation as they ate to keep the peace. As they talked she could tell that her earlier display still hindered his interaction. While they talked, she’d notice his eyes would linger on her lips rather than her eyes; and whenever they did lock eyes, he would trip over his words and look away.
It was cute, she thought.
Before she could decide to tease him further, the waitress had returned to their table, having noticed that their plates had practically been licked clean. She asked if they were finished with their plates, and they both nodded.
As she collected their dishes she asked, “Can I interest you two in some dessert?”
(y/n) pursed her lips and turned to Credence. “What do you think? Still have room for more, pretty boy?”
Credence flushed.  “I-I’ve never had a milkshake before,” he stammered, referring to the claim she made earlier.
She smiled, before gingerly holding up a finger to the waitress. “We’ll have one large vanilla milkshake with extra cherries, please!”
The waitress returned her smile and winked. “Coming right up!”
It wasn’t long before she came back with the milkshake. It came in a large glass cup filled with vanilla milkshake and topped off with a generous swirl of whipped cream. It was decorated with a cherry, but the extra cherries (y/n) asked for layered the bottom of the glass. The waitress placed the glass on the center of the table between the two. She handed them two big, red and white striped straws before leaving them once more. They both took one and put it into the glass.
(y/n) smiled eagerly at Credence across the table. “You get the first sip,” she said.
He thanked her as he leaned forward and wrapped his lips around his straw. He sucked on it how he normally would without realizing how thick the milkshake was. (y/n) watched him struggle for a moment as he nearly ran out of breath trying to suck the ice cream up the straw. He got it eventually, the cool, sweet, vanilla filling his mouth. It wasn’t what he was expecting at all. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, really, but he just knew that the taste surprised him. He never had sweets before. Sugar is a gluttonous indulgence that Mary Lou found sinful. But as the sticky sweet cream slid down his throat, he wondered if all sin was just pleasures he was being denied.
He didn’t have to tell her he liked it. It was written all over his face. It was probably the most relaxed she’s ever seen him. She enjoyed seeing him that way, with a small smile on his face and flushed cheeks. Credence was so invested in the milkshake, (y/n) was sure he would drink it all if she didn’t get her sips in. Credence nearly choked when he looked up and saw her face mere inches from his own, sipping on the other straw in the glass.
She didn’t seem to mind at all, being so close to him. Her eyes were closed as she sipped. Her curled lashes brushed against her full cheeks and her glossy lips circled the straw delicately. This close, he could see the texture of her (s/c) skin, seeing the few freckles and moles that decorated her features he hadn’t noticed before.
When she did open her eyes, he didn't look away. This time he looked in her eyes and saw for the first time that her eyes weren’t just one shade of (e/c), but a combination of different shades and colors to make the color that was distinctly her’s. Similarly, she saw that his eyes were a deep brown, almost black if it weren't for the few streaks of chocolate brown and burgundy that reflected in the light.
(y/n)’s lips curled into a smile. She bashfully looked away from his eyes and into the glass. The two drank in comfortable silence, savoring both the milkshake and the tender moment. They drank the contents of the glass, leaving nothing but the leftover cream and cherries at the bottom. They wouldn’t go to waste. Cherries must have been (y/n)’s favorite because ate most of them. She did however offer one to Credence for him to try. She held the cherry by the stem and encouraged him to take a bite. He thought it was a bit embarrassing that she insisted on feeding it to him, but he took the cream covered fruit into his mouth and found it just as sweet—if not sweeter—than the milkshake itself.
She let him eat the remaining cherries himself. While he was eating, he watched (y/n) gather her things, putting on her coat before sliding out of the booth.
“I’m going to go pay while you finish,” she told him as she got up.
She walked over to the front counter where the waitress was counting money from the cash register. Credence watched as the two women talked. (y/n) smiled at the waitress and said something that made her laugh. She reached into her purse and pulled out several bills. She handed it to the waitress, who looked at the cash in her hands with wide eyes.
“For me?” He overheard the waitress ask. When (y/n) nodded, the young girl squealed in excitement and rushed from the counter to hug her. The two stumbled due to the unexpected force, but (y/n) didn’t seem to mind. She laughed and hugged the waitress back, patting her back in a friendly manner. Credence, having finished his cherries, got up to stand by (y/n)’s side.
“Thank you so much, miss!” Credence heard the waitress gush as he came up.
“It’s nothing, you deserve it,” (y/n) insisted. (y/n) turned her attention from the young girl to Credence beside her when she felt his presence. She looked up at him with a smile. “Are you ready to go?” She asked him. He nodded.
The waitress looked between the two and grinned softly. “You two make a sweet couple,” she said.
(y/n) returned the grin, hooking her arm around Credence and leaning her head on his shoulder. “Thank you,” she said, playing into the waitress’s assumptions.
“You two have a blessed day!” The waitress left to tend to a waiting customer leaving him victim to (y/n)’s smug grin. At this point, even his neck was red. (y/n) couldn’t help but find  it amusing. No matter how flustered he got, he wouldn’t protest.
She lightly squeezed his arm, making him look down at her. “Are you ready to go, pretty boy?” She asked him.
It was the second time she called him that, and it was just as startling as the first time. The pet name made his heart swell in his chest and his brain stutter. But again, he didn’t protest. He just nodded his head and turned his face away to hide his reddened cheeks. (y/n) giggled, satisfied with the reaction she got, and they both walked out of the restaurant and back into the cold.
Outside, the snow had stopped falling, but the sidewalks were still slick with slush and ice. (y/n) took a deep breath, breathing in the crisp air as she looked up at the sky.
“Is it that late all ready?” She muttered to herself, her happy features falling slightly. Despite the heavy, grey clouds blanketing the sky, they could still see the sun shining brightly behind them. Credence too looked up at the sky. From what he could tell, it was around three in the afternoon..
He turned to (y/n). “Do you have to go now?” He asked her regrettably.
Her eyes fell down from the sky to his own. Her lips pressed into a small smile and shook her head. “Not just yet,” she said.
“Why don’t you walk with me to the park.” She demanded more than asked and pulled him off down the sidewalk.
He walked with (y/n) a little while longer, back towards the park. Along the way, (y/n) would stop outside shops and look at the items displayed in the windows. Some things of the things she expressed an interest in were for her, sometimes she would see an item and would say something along the lines of “Mom would love this” or “Aaron has something like this”. But sometimes she would stop and turn to Credence and ask, “Do you like this?”
He had to talk her out of buying him things multiple times. She seemed so eager to spoil him. She wanted to buy him a new pair of shoes and a watch she’d seen on display. There was an expensive-looking suit outside of a tailor’s shop, and her eyes practically sparkled upon seeing it. She tried to convince him to go in and try it on, but he knew if he did, she would end up buying it for him. How he deterred her from the idea was a miracle in itself. But eventually, she dropped the idea, and the two continued on their walk. 
The two reached the park without buying a single thing. When they reached the entrance of the park, (y/n) stopped, and pulled away from his side. Credence halted in his tracks, turning around to face her. He looked down at her as she smiled up at him.
“Do you have anywhere to go after this?” She asked him.
Credence shook his head. His mother wouldn’t be expecting him until dark.
She pursed her lips and tilted her as if in thought as she sighed.
“Should I just kidnap you?”
The question took him by surprise. (y/n) laughed at the perturbed look on his face. “I’m joking, Credence,” she said between snorts. “I won’t kidnap you. Not unless you want me to.”
Credence smiled softly, letting out a soft chuckle of his own. This made (y/n) smile even bigger than before. She took a coy step closer to him, taking one of his gloved hands in her own and swinging it playfully.
“I had fun today, Credence,” she told him. “As first dates go, this is probably the best one I’ve ever been on.”
“Just probably?” Credence mumbled jokingly.
(y/n) smirked, amused by the sudden remark. “Yeah, just probably.”
Credence looked down at their hands, admiring how small her hands were compared to his. Somehow he hadn’t realized just how much shorter than him she was. He always felt smaller than her. He didn’t mind it: feeling small. It was different from how other people made him feel small; like his mother or strangers on the street. They made him feel tiny, like a bug— like something disgusting and inconvenient. To them, he was something they could easily step on. But with her, it was different.
With her, he felt small, like a flower. And to him, she was the sun. She was so big and so bright. Whenever she was around, he felt alive. And whenever she wasn’t, he felt like he might die. He didn’t mind feeling small around her, because, at least when he’s with her, he is consumed by light. 
“I had fun too,” Credence spoke up. “I really enjoy spending time with you, Miss (l/n).”
“Are you always this formal?” She teases despite her obvious blushing. “I enjoy spending time with you too, Mister Barebone.”
She gave his hand one last gentle squeeze before letting go. She brushed past him, striding down the street. Credence watched her as she walked, his heart sinking just a little.
As though she could sense it, (y/n) looked at him over her shoulder as she walked and grinned. “Don’t look so sad,” she yelled to him. “I’ll find you again.”
With a chaste wink, she disappeared around the corner and away from his line of vision, leaving him with a full stomach and an even fuller heart.
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That night, Credence returned home alone. He reluctantly walked back to the crooked chapel. His mind was fogged with thoughts of her. When he came to the front of what he, unfortunately, called ‘home’, he hesitated to go in. He looked through each window. It was dark inside. Could everyone have fallen asleep already?
He looked down at the coat on his body. He quickly shrugged the heavy material off of his shoulders and folded it in his arms before quietly entering the house. The house seemed empty, and it was almost too quiet. He pushed his way through the dark and carefully made his way up the stairs as to not make a sound. He’d gotten good at being quiet in the house. He memorized each squeaky board and mastered the art of moving in silence despite his height. 
He crept up the stairs as he’d done many times and tip-toed to his bedroom, where he then quietly shut his door. Once he heard the door click softly, he released his breath and sighed in relief.
His room wasn’t much. It was small and comprised a bed with an old iron frame, an armoire, a sink, and a metal tub that he uses to bathe. He looked down at the coat in his hands. He moved to the armoire by his bed and opened its doors. There wasn’t much inside; he had little to put in it, anyway. But today, he would be thankful for that. 
The armoire was a rather fancy piece of furniture. It stood out in his otherwise destitute room. The armoire was just as old and worn out as the rest of the room, but it wasn’t hard to tell it was an ornamental relic of the 19th century. It had enough space to fill two weeks’ worth of clothes. It was almost offensive how little there was inside it. One detail about it was its hollow bottom. Credence could slide the bottom plank of wood to reveal a cubbyhole. Its original purpose must have been for shoes or winter blankets, but now it would serve a new purpose. 
Credence kneeled on the ground and packed the coat neatly into the cubby before throwing his new gloves on top. They fit perfectly inside and he was allowed to slide the wooden plank back on with ease. With that accomplished, he rose to his feet and closed the armoire doors. He began undressing, stripping his clothes until he was left in nothing but his boxers.
It was as cold in the house as it was outside, but credence had no pajamas that would keep him warm. He had but one pair of old satin pajamas that were too small for him. He decided not to wear them tonight. The naturally cool material wouldn’t provide him warmth or comfort.
After putting away his dirtied clothes, Credence fell back on his bed and stared up at the rotting ceiling above him. As he lay there, his mind would drift to the memories of his ‘date’. Just thinking about her made his heart beat faster. He pictured her in his mind, reliving the time he spent with her.
It was the most surreal thing. Being with her made him feel things he never felt before. She made his heart flutter and his cheeks warm in a pleasantly addicting way. When he was with her, he forgot everything bad. There was no anxiety, no judgment, no harsh words, or abuse. He was just a normal man with a normal woman. He wished he could feel that way all the time.
His hand reached behind his head and slipped under his pillow to retrieve the soft pink piece of fabric he kept there. He held it up in front of him, rubbing it between his fingers. The moonlight from his window reflected on its threads, and he could read the stitched initials in the corner.
“(y/n)...” He whispered her name so tenderly. Just saying her name aloud made his lips tingle. He loved saying her name for the simple reason that it was her name. He would say it a thousand times aloud if he could.
He brought the cloth down to his nose and inhaled its scent. Her fragrance still lingered on the soft fabric, clouding his senses. Credence felt a familiar stirring rise in his stomach. Heat rose to his cheeks, and he pressed his legs together. His mind flashed to the other day in the church, remembering the lewd images of her he had fantasized about. A part of him was ashamed. Sexual desire was a sin he shouldn’t act upon. It was a vile, disgusting act. That’s what the church told him, at least. And his mother would have no part of it either.
Mary Lou made sure to reprimand him whenever she suspected him of sexual temptation, so much so he shied away from girls all together. Yet recently, he’s felt a bumbling desire well up inside of him. He knew what it was; he felt it before. Only once before had he fallen victim to his lusty desire. It had been in his adolescence. He was sleeping when he had a dream about a red-haired woman he’d seen on the street. She was most likely in her twenties at the time, but she was so captivating he remembered her face for a week. He dreamed of that red-haired woman touching and caressing him. She’d even kissed him like he’d seen couples on the street kiss. This mild fantasy woke him from his sleep with a shameful mess on his bed.
He was so humiliated and ashamed he rushed to confess to Mary Lou, who punished him greatly for his lasciviousness. He didn’t dream of the red-haired woman or any woman at all after that. That is, until he met her.
At first, his thoughts of her were innocent. He would fantasize about holding her hand and laying on her chest as he slept. She would caress his face and run her fingers through his hair.  He would give her chaste kisses on her cheek, and she would giggle and laugh, returning the favor. But that changed that day he went to church and listened to Father Blackwell’s sermon. That was the first time he thought of her in such an erotic way.
It was because of this he felt particularly suffocated by her presence today. He became even more aware of her touches. His eyes would stare at her lips more often and glance at the curves of her chest. He thought about how she held on to his arm; How warm and soft she was; Her small hands. He thought about how her finger felt brushing against his lip. About how her tongue darted between her plump lips to lap at her thumb.
Credence bit his lip to keep his whimpers from escaping. His thoughts were filled with images of her, his body reacted on its own. He curled on his side and pressed his legs together to relieve himself of his growing hardness. Instead of discouraging his growing lust, it seemed to only spur it on. The feeling of his thighs pressing against his length brushed an itch he desperately desired to scratch.
He wanted her by his side so terribly. If only he were as confident and manly as the men he saw on the street, she would be. If he were as confident as the man she was with today, then he could call her by her name. He too could take her by her delicate waist and kiss her cheeks. And, oh, did he wish to kiss her.
He wanted to kiss her many times today. He wanted to kiss her the moment he saw her. He wanted to kiss her again in the boutique when she pressed her hands on his chest, and again when she asked him to go on a date with her. He wanted to kiss her multiple times in the restaurant for teasing him so viciously, and he wanted to kiss her deeply before they said goodbye.
He imagined what it would be like to be that kind of man; what it would be like to have her with him now, and what he would do if she was. If she was there on his bed laying next to him, he would want to kiss her now as well. He would have her under him, staring up at him with her beautiful (e/c) eyes. He would brush the hair away from her face and stroke her cheek. Her hands would hold his sides and pull him closer so their bodies lay flat against each other. He would feel her and she would feel him. Her warmth would consume him, and their bodies would mold together.
Credence closed his eyes and smelled her pink handkerchief. If he kept his eyes closed, he could pretend she was there.
“(y/n)...” He whispered her name once more. His hips rocked hesitantly, the undeniable bulge in his boxers was now too evident to ignore. Rocking his hips caused a pleasurable sensation in his stomach. It felt so good, he did it again... and again... and again; rocking his hips as he held her handkerchief to his nose and imagined her.
He thought of kissing her soft lips as he pressed into her, feeling her hands run up and down his sides as they had done before. He wanted to rock his hips against her like he was doing now. Would it feel as good for her as it felt for him? Would she breathe as heavy as he was now? Would she pant and whisper his name?
“A-ah...”
He panted lewdly, pleasuring himself with these thoughts. But it wasn't enough. He needed more.
He laid on his back on the bed. His body seemed to know what to do without thinking about it. He kept his eyes closed as his free hand snaked down his body to palm himself over his boxers. He rubbed himself through the fabric, his shallow breaths filling his ears. But to him it wasn't his hands, but hers; her soft, small hands touching him gently.
It was her delicate hands that slipped past the waistband of his boxers and gripped his length. It was her hands that stroked him slowly. She was there, whispering his name while he whispered hers. The more she stroked him, the shorter his breaths became. Each breath he took was filled with her scent. She consumed him, wrapping her essence around him, and filling his body with heat.
She stroked him faster as they kissed. He kissed her deeply, slipping his tongue past her lips as he’d seen couples do before. He could taste the cherries and vanilla on her tongue, as sweet as they were in the milkshake they’d shared. She moaned his name in her mouth, driving him crazy.
“Ha..-ahh. ahaa...”
More, he thought. All he could think about was how he wanted more. More of her scent, more of her touch, more of her.
Her hands became wet with his slick, gliding up and down his length with vigor. His body was overtaken with a foreign sensation, buzzing through his body, collecting where he wanted to be touched the most. The faster she stroked him, the better he felt. She felt good, so so good.
“H-Ha...-haaaa...(y/n)...”
He wanted to say her name over and over. He wanted to shout it, loud enough for the heavens to hear. He didn’t care if God heard him. He wanted God and the angels to hear so they would know how she made him feel. He was overwhelmed by love and lust for her. He wanted them to know that his body was hers and he willingly gave it to her. He wanted to touch her, please her, feel her.
His eyes clenched shut. Her hands pumped his twitching length excitedly, the buzzing heat collecting at his center. His legs began to shake, his back arching from the bed. Lavender and vanilla, that’s what he smelled as his vision blurred and the buzzing heat tingling in his core burst and was replaced with a cool wave of overwhelming pleasure.
His body trembled, somehow coated in a thin layer of sweat despite the room being cold. He stayed still, laying in silence as he let his body calm. When he finally opened his eyes, he half expected to see her hovering over him with that playful smile on her face, only to be met with the rotting rafters of his ceiling.
He sighed through his nose. Once the euphoric cloud in his mind cleared, shame and regret replacing his lusty desire, he moved from his bed to the sink across the room. He turned the knob and a low stream of water fell from the faucet. Taking the dingy rag that rested on the sink’s bowl, he wet it, using it to clean up his mess. As he wiped himself, he wondered if that was what sex was like. He never touched himself like that before, though he wanted to many times. Now that he had, the answer to his question was clear. Sins were just pleasures he was being denied. 
He returned to his bed, burying himself beneath the covers. He took the handkerchief back into his hand and held it by his face as he slept on his side. His eyes grew heavy, the scent of lavender slowly drifting him to sleep. A passing thought in his mind wondered if this is what it would feel like to sleep by her side. He would do anything to just hold her once, to lie on her chest and listen to the sounds of her breathing.
That was his last thought before falling asleep.
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Several days would pass since the last time he saw her. They would be long, dreary days spent in the chapel. It snowed relentlessly for three days, making it impossible to venture out. During that time, he would clean and help Chastity serve meals to the orphans that sought refuge from the streets. The day when the snow finally ceased to fall, Mary Lou tasked him with shoveling the street in front of the chapel while she took Modesty and Chastity into town.
It was once he finished shoveling that he realized he had the rest of the day for himself. He pondered staying in the house for a moment, but quickly threw the idea. He couldn’t bear another minute in that house. Instead, he went on a walk. It wasn’t unusual for him to do this when he had the time. He would walk aimlessly just to get away. He only could afford to when his mother left him alone.
Today, Credence found himself at Central Park. It was no surprise that the park was packed. The low temperatures of the past week allowed the lake to freeze over, thick enough for people to skate on. Men, women, and children scattered across the area. Carolers were singing Christmas songs and street vendors peddled treats. It was a pleasant and lively scene.
He had almost forgotten that Christmas was so soon. He’d been so caught up with his duties it had slipped his mind. He liked Christmas, even though he didn’t celebrate it the way most people do. His mother forced him and his siblings to attend church on Christmas Day. But he could appreciate what others did on Christmas. He liked seeing the kids play in the snow, showing off their new toys. He liked the idea of parents spending time with their children by the fire. He even liked listening to Christmas songs that would play on repeat outside the record store.
Credence watched the people as he walked through the park. He liked to imagine himself in their place. Sometimes he was a kid playing fetch with his dog. Sometimes he was a woman making snow angels, or a man building a snowman. Right now, he was the man of a couple skating on the ice, holding hands with his partner. The pair laughed as they spun in circles, occasionally grasping at each other’s arms when they slipped.
He was too busy projecting he hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings. Like any other creature, he was susceptible to attack. He flinched as he felt icy-cold pellets burst against the back of his head. He heard a sharp gasp not far behind him, followed by a heap of childish giggles. Credence turned around, expecting to see a group of devious looking children. Imagine his surprise when he saw her standing ten feet away from him with a group of children looking incredibly guilty.
“Oh, my gosh! I’m so sorry, Bunny! I was aiming for your shoulder, I swear!”
“(y/n)?” He muttered in disbelief.
How did she always appear in the least expected places? He stared her down as she rushed towards him. Today she was wearing a heavy, brown fur-lined coat and a green cloche hat that matched her boots. When she reached him, her hands immediately reached behind his head to dust the remaining remnants of her snowball from his hair.
She looked at him apologetically. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, I feel like a total gink,” she pouted.
His cheeks burst into flames. The position she put him in had her chest brushing pressing against his as her hands brushed through his hair. At this angle he could see how neatly curled her hair was under her cap, falling in styled swirls around her face. Her swollen nose was red from the cold. Her breath that smelled distinctly of coffee beans warmed his cheeks.
Credence’s expression softened, a faint smile ghosting his lips. She was still apologizing to him, frantically brushing snow from his hair and shoulders.
“It’s okay,” he said in hopes to calm her. 
She closed her eyes and sighed. Her head lulled forward, hiding her face in his chest. “You’re angry with me, aren’t you?” He heard her muffled voice say.
Credence swallowed the lump in his throat and nervously licked his lips. This was the closest she’d ever been to him. He reached a dithering hand to grasp hers and rubbed the back of her gloved hand with his thumb.
“I’m not angry,” he assured her.
(y/n) lifted her head from his shoulders to meet his eyes, searching for any sign of irritation. “Are you sure? You can get me back, if you want.”
Credence nodded his head. “I’m sure.”
She believed him this time, her relief washing over her face. “I really am sorry,” she said one final time. “I just saw you walking past by chance and I wanted to surprise you.”
“I was surprised!” He said a bit too excitedly.
This made her laugh and playfully push his shoulder. Her laugh alone was enough to put a smile on his face, one that made dimples appear on his cheeks. He felt her hand firmly grasp his, holding it properly.
“Why aren’t you wearing your new coat and gloves?” She asked. “Don’t you like them?”
Credence had forgotten he wasn’t wearing the coat you got him. He couldn’t, not without his mother seeing it. If she knew about the coat—if she knew about him seeing you—she would be furious. He kept the coat (y/n) had given him hidden with the rest of the precious things she gave him. He wore the old navy blue coat out that Mary Lou had recently acquired and given to him. It wasn’t nearly as warm or stylish as the coat (y/n)  had gotten for him, but it was enough for the winter, and it was the only thing he could wear in front of his mother.
“I do like them,” he answered. “I was afraid of ruining it. I don’t want to wear it out too much.”
It was the best excuse he could think of at the time, and after mulling over it for a brief moment, she seemed to accept it. She then told him that, if he did end up damaging his new coat, she would simply buy him another, and spoke no more of it.
She nodded towards the lake behind him. “Did you come here to skate?”
Credence looked back to the lake. “Oh, no,” he said. “I never learned.”
Another gasp left her lips. “You’ve never been ice-skating before?”
He shook his head.
“Then we’ve got to fix that, now don’t we?” She reckoned.
Before he could ask what she meant, she’d already left his side. He looked in all directions until he saw her talking to an older couple sitting on a mess of picnic blankets under a tree. It appeared she’d asked him a question because their answer was a shake of their head. She waved goodbye to them before walking off to pursue another person, who gave the same answer. He watched her do this a few times around a small area of the park with no luck. At one point, she stood in the middle of the snow pondering while she scanned the area. Curious, Credence walked up to her.
“What are you doing?” He asked.
“Looking,” she replied simply.
Her squinted eyes panned across the park, her lips pursed as though she were thinking very hard about something.
“Ah!” She shouted, a triumphant smile stretching across her lips. She turned to Credence and winked. “Follow my lead.”
She walked down a small hill towards a small group of children who were playing in the snow at the bottom. Credence followed a few steps behind.
“Hey, kiddos,” She waved.
The kids stopped what they were doing to look up at her. She waved her hands towards her, beckoning them over. The children shared confused looks, before cautiously making their way towards her. She squatted down Asian style to meet their eyes. Credence stayed a couple of feet away, but he could still make out what was being said.
“Can you keep a secret?” He heard (y/n) ask the children.
The kids nodded and hummed in confirmation. (y/n) grinned.
“You see my friend over there?” She pointed behind her, directing the children’s attention to Credence. “He’s never been ice-skating before!”
The children snickered whispered teasingly among themselves. Credence looked away, embarrassed to be taunted by children. (y/n) giggled with them and easily brought back their attention.
“I really want to teach him,” She revealed once their jeering ceased. “But he’s so silly, he forgot to bring a pair of skates.”
“That is silly!” One of the little girls yelled.
(y/n) looked between Credence and the children. “Now, I see you have a pair of skates.” Sure enough, there were a pair of skates laying in the snow where the kids were once playing, far too big to fit on their small feet.
“Do they belong to any of you?” (y/n) asked.
“No,” The little girl shook her head. “They were already there.”
“We think someone left them by mistake,” An older boy chimed in.
“I see,” (y/n) hummed. “Do you think I can take them for my friend, then?”
“But we was gonna use ‘em! We saw them first!” A small blond boy frowned. (y/n) looked at the boy and flashed her kindest smile.
“Oh, were you now? How about I just borrow them? I’ll bring them right back to you, I pinky promise!” She held out her pinky for him to take. The boy looked at her hand in front of him. He lifted his hand and stretched out his pinky.
“I guess that’s okay...” He mumbled through puffed red cheeks.
(y/n) hooked hers around the boy. “Aren’t you sweet?” She affectionately pat the top of his head. “I hope my kid will be as kind as you are.”
The boy blushed and swat her hand away from his head, adjusting his hat. “Whatever, Lady!” The blond boy ran away, the rest of the children chased after him with childish taunts.
(y/n) chuckled and rose back to her feet. She walked up to where the skates were laying and picked them off the ground before making her way back to Credence’s side.
“Are you ready?” She asked excitedly.
Credence shrugged his shoulders, still processing the events of the last fifteen minutes. (y/n) scoffed and rolled her eyes, forcibly taking Credence’s hand.
“Just come on,” she groaned as she dragged him towards the lake.
When they reached the edge of the ice, she handed him the skates and ordered him to strap them onto his boots. Credence did as he was told and sat down on the nearest bench, securely strapping the skates onto his shoes. After (y/n) had double-checked to make sure they were on right, she held out her hand for him to take. He grabbed it, using her to find his balance. When he stood to his feet his ankles wobbled, disrupting his balance.
(y/n) gripped his arm tightly to keep him from falling. “Careful,” she warned.
He held on to her as she guided him to the lake. She stepped on the ice with ease. She grabbed his other hand and helped him step on the ice. Immediately after his skates touched the ice, his heart raced.
“I don’t think I want to do this anymore,” his voice fluttered anxiously.
“You’re okay, I got you,” she promised.
She pulled him further out onto the ice, still clasping his hands. Credence gripped her hands for dear life while silently trying to figure out how it was he ended up in this position.
Other skaters flew past them as he stumbled on the ice like a baby deer. (y/n) didn’t give up on teaching him. No matter how many times he slipped or tripped, she was always there to catch and pick him back up when he fell. Eventually, he got the hang of it. He started balancing himself on his own, gliding somewhat smoothly without having to hold on to her. It didn’t take long for him to relax and reciprocate her playful activities.
(y/n) eventually stepped off the ice, giving him the space to skate on his own. She watched him fondly, taking in the smile glowing on his face. He went around in circles, almost bumping into others a few times, but he directed himself easily. She would say he was a natural.
He went on like that for a while as she watched. When he’d had enough, he made his way back to the edge of the lake where she stood.
“Was that fun?” She asked when he skated towards her. Credence nodded his head and smiled bashfully. She helped him stop by taking his outstretched hands. 
“You’re a fast learner. I’m kind of jealous. I didn’t get the hang of skating until I was twelve,” she brooded jokingly. “Are you done?”
“Yes,” he said as he stepped back on the snow. 
They walked towards the bench, and Credence sat down to take off his skates. (y/n) stayed standing. “There’s a vendor selling treats across the street,” she told him. “Why don’t you give those skates back to the kids while I get us something to drink?”
“But––” Credence tried to protest, not having the courage or social skills to approach a group of children. It was quickly ignored, however, for (y/n) had already made up her mind, and began walking to the street. 
“I’ll be right back!” She said as she left him alone on the bench. 
Credence looked around, silently doubting his ability to find the kids. His eyes scanned the park until they landed on a group of children having a snowball fight. He recognized one of the children as the bratty boy (y/n) convinced to let them borrow the skates. 
He reluctantly got up from the bench and walked over to the children, skates in hand. The closer he got, the louder their shouting laughter became. Most of the children were boys between the ages of seven and thirteen, but three girls around their age had gained their friendship. One girl stayed off to the sidelines watching the others play. He recognized her as well.
“Excuse me... little girl?” He called. The little girl turned around and held out the skates. “Here.”
The girl took them and smiled. “Thank you!”
“You’re welcome.”
She looked behind him, frowning when she saw nothing there. “Where’s that nice lady?”
Credence pointed across the street towards the street vendor where (y/n) was patiently waiting in line. “She should be back,” he told her.
“I like her!” said the girl. “She’s very pretty, like a princess!”
This made him smile. It made him happy to know others, even children, saw her the way he did. “Yeah,” he agreed. “She is.”
The little girl looked at Credence, noting the soft smile on his face as he watched you. “Do you like her or something?” She probed unexpectedly. 
“Uh... I...?” Credence struggled to find the words to say. It's not that he didn't know the answer, it was just that he hadn’t expected to be asked that question. Especially not from an eight-year-old girl. Were his feelings that transparent? Did you know how he felt too?
The little girl didn’t wait for an answer. “Well, I think she likes you,” she told him, surprising him for the second time.
Credence flushed pink. “Really?”
The small girl reached her hand to pat Credence's arm and imitated the look of someone wise beyond her years. “Trust me. Women know these things.”
Oddly, he couldn’t help but feel a bit hopeful despite the words coming from a child. He never felt about anyone the way he felt about her. The way he is when he’s with her—the way he talks to her and touches her—he can only be that way with her because he likes her. He could never be that way with anyone else. But he always felt that, for her, it was different. Seeing her interact with others like the children, the waitress, Raül—even Edmund—made him realize that she was kind to everyone. She didn’t treat him that way because she liked him. She treated him that way because that’s just the kind of person she was.
“Hey, kiddos!” (y/n)’s voice caught his attention. Both Credence and the girl looked up to see her holding a cardboard box of steaming paper cups. “I got something for you!”
The children playing heard her too and ceased their fight to run towards her. They circled her like a litter of puppies, excitedly asking what she was holding.
She lowered the box for them to see, showing off cups filled with light brown liquid. “For letting us borrow the skates. Be careful though, it's hot!”
The kids yelled enthusiastically as she began handing them each a cup. Credence walked to her side to help her.
“What is it?” He asked.
(y/n) frowned. “Hot chocolate. Have you never had hot chocolate before?”
He shook his head, causing her to gasp.
“I wish I had known sooner!” She pouted. “I got this is from a vendor across the street. I could have gotten better hot chocolate with marshmallows at a cafe a block from here.”
“I think it’s delicious!” The little girl interjected. 
(y/n) smiled down at her. “Well, if you think so, then it must be.”
Credence ended up being the one to give the bratty boy his cup of hot chocolate. (y/n) watched him as he drank it greedily. 
“What about you?” She asked him. “Do you like it too?”
“It’s pretty good, I guess,” he said, trying his hardest to sound indifferent, but it was hard to take him seriously with the chocolate mustache on his lips.
(y/n) laughed and took his cheek between her fingers, pinching them gently. “Gosh, you’re so darn cute! Do you have a big sister already? I can be yours, if you want. I’ve always wanted a little brother!”
The boy blushed and pulled his face away from her hand. “Lady, you’re crazy!”
He threw his empty cup on the ground stormed off angrily. The other children finished their cups and handed them back to her nicely before running off too, leaving her and Credence alone. 
“What did I say?” She mumbled to herself.
Credence couldn’t help but find it amusing. It was nice seeing her tease someone else for a change. 
“Maybe he already has a sister,” he answered sarcastically.  
(y/n) scoffed. “Yeah, yeah, just drink your cocoa,” she chuckled after handing him a cup. 
The two threw away the empty cups and cardboard box in a nearby trashcan. (y/n) suggested they take a walk around the park and talk. She asked him if he liked the hot chocolate, to which he answered yes. She then asked which he liked better: vanilla milkshakes or hot chocolate. He told her milkshakes. They talked like this for a while. Occasionally she would ask about his family and what he liked to do at home. He didn’t give her many satisfying answers, but that didn’t stop her from prodding.
“So, did you give up on hunting witches?” She asked.
Credence swallowed another sip of his hot chocolate. “I’m sorry?”
“You don’t carry around flyers anymore. Did you give up?”
“Oh. No, it’s not that,” he said. “I don’t think my mother will ever give up on exposing witches. It’s just that right now she’s kind of stuck.”
“Stuck? Stuck how?”
“She wanted to speak at the church to let everyone know about what she’d seen, but the priest, Father Blackwell, wouldn’t allow it.”
“I know Father Blackwell,” she told him.
Credence perked up. “You do?”
“Yes! My father is a big supporter of the church. Personally, I identify as agnostic, so I don’t go to church with him unless it’s for a holiday like Easter or Christmas. I wonder if you’ve seen him. Not that you could miss him. He’s a rather large man,” she joked.
“Does he wear a white suit?” Credence asked, remembering the stocky man talking with Father Blackwell the last time he visited the church.
(y/n) grinned and nodded excitedly. “That’s his Sunday suit! He has four of them. For some reason, he only likes wearing cream-colored suits on Sundays.”
“I have seen him,” he admits.
“Small world!” She exclaimed. “Well, anyways, I can definitely tell my father to put in a good word for your mother to Father Blackwell.”
“You would do that?”
“Of course! Better yet, why don’t we go right now?”
“N-Now?” Credence gaped.
“It’s Wednesday, they have a service tonight. Father Blackwell will be there, and I can try to convince him to let your mother have a set this Sunday!
“But what about your father?”
“We might not need him. I know Father Blackwell well enough. He might be swayed on my word alone. It won’t hurt to try,” she explained.
“I guess not,” he agreed.
“Come with me, my car is just a short walk from here!” She grabbed his free hand and directed him towards the street where she’d parked her car. 
After they reached the car, she drove him to the church. It was a short fifteen-minute drive from Central Park. It was still too early for the service to start, but when they entered the church, a few people were sitting in the pews praying. An older woman was playing the organ at the altar while Deacon Ripley read scriptures from the Bible. He stopped only stopped when he noticed the two walking down the aisle. 
“Oh, God,” Credence heard (y/n) mutter under her breath. “Not this clown again.”
He wasn’t used to you outwardly showing your distaste for someone; you were always so nice. But considering it was Deacon Ripley, it wasn’t too surprising. 
He was a cunt.
As they came closer, Ripley marked the passage he’d finished reading and closed the Bible. 
“Miss (l/n),” he called her name with a sneer. “What a pleasant surprise. What brings you here?”
“I’m here to speak with Father Blackwell,” she replied coldly. It was the first time Credence had ever heard her use such a tone. 
Ripley frowned, taking a step down from the podium. “What business could you have with him?”
(y/n)’s lips curled into a sly smirk. “My business with him would be his business and mine, so why would I tell you our business if it isn’t your business to begin with?”
Her witty remark clearly got under Ripley’s skin. His frown deepened and splotches of red began appearing under his grey skin. He didn’t get the chance to respond before Father Blackwell stopped him. 
“Give it a rest, Ripley.” Father Blackwell had come out from the door to his office. He moved between Ripley and (y/n), and held out his hand for her. “(y/n), it’s lovely to see you. It’s been a while. A year, I think?”
She took his hand and shook it. “Don’t be silly, Father. You saw me earlier this year, remember? For my parent’s Easter party.”
“Oh, that’s right,” he nodded, chuckling softly. “Must’ve slipped my mind. What brings your here, child?”
 “Ah, yes, about that...” (y/n) eyed Ripley. “Can we speak somewhere private, just the two of us?” 
“I don’t see why not. Step into my office.”
(y/n) turned to Credence and gave him a reassuring smile before following Father Blackwell to his office and disappearing behind the heavy door. Credence could feel Ripley’s eyes burning a hole in the side of his head. He obviously wanted to say something to him. 
“Seeing that godless woman walk through God’s doors was not something I expected to see today,” he began, excited to get his two cents in.  “But I must admit, seeing you by her side surprises me more. I didn’t realize you two were so close”
What was his problem? Why did he hate her so much? Then Credence remembered what she said to him in the park. Could that be why Ripley hated her? Because she didn’t believe in the church? No, it had to be something else. His pointed anger felt too personal.  
“We’re not really,” Credence answered. “I only just met her.”
“So you say.” Ripley circled him. “I wonder... Does your mother know about you and Miss (l/n)?”
If there’s one thing Credence hated about Ripley, it was his talent for stirring up trouble. His hobby of collecting and relaying gossip often caused spouts within the church. Credence fell victim to this twice before, each time resulting in a beating from his mother. He had to be careful with what he says to Ripley because he will most definitely relay it to his mother if he thinks it will cause conflict. 
“She does,” he lied as best he could. 
Ripley raised his brows. “Really? I never took her for the kind of woman who would allow her son to stroll the streets alone with such... unholy company. If there’s one kind of person Mary Lou hates, it’s women like her.”
Credence frowned. “What do you mean by ‘women like her’?”
“Don’t you know? Not only does she not accept the Christian God, but she fully denounced him. Instead of saving her divine feminine for holy matrimony, she committed salacious acts with various men that would make the Virgin Mary cry.”
Credence fell silent. So this was the reason. The malicious smirk on Ripley’s cracked lips proved that he couldn’t wait to tell him what he knew. 
“Oh my,” Ripley sighed. “I suppose you didn’t know.”
Credence clenched his fist. He could feel his body vibrating with heat. He was so angry. How dare he speak about her that way? How dare he disrespect her? Spread rumors about her? Was gossip not a sin?  Who was he to degrade and scrutinize her?
So what if she did? He didn’t care. It didn’t matter. It didn’t change what he thought about her. It didn’t change how he felt about her. But hearing such demeaning words come from Ripley's mouth made his blood boil. 
There were times where Credence would get like this. It wasn’t often, but when he did, his mind would think dark, violent thoughts. They build up in his head until anger and rage blinded him. He wanted to say something—do something. He probably would have too, if her voice hadn’t rung in his ears, immediately calming his nerves and the growing anger inside him. 
“Credence, I did it!” 
He saw you rushing excitedly towards him with a big smile on your face. You came up to him, grabbed both of his hands, shaking them wildly. 
“Tell your mother that she can speak this Sunday at the end of the service!”
Credence swallowed the lump in his throat. His tightened chest released the tension it was holding and his hands unclenched to hold hers. Looking into her shining (e/c) eyes made all his violent thoughts disappear as if they were never there. 
He blinked a few times, already forgetting how upset he’d just been. “H-How?”
“Magic,” she winked. 
She hooked her arm around his and began walking him back down the aisle to the exit. “Do you want me to drive you home?” She asked, looking up at him.
Credence smiled, Ripley’s taunting comments fleeing his memory. “Yes.”
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The drive took longer than expected. There had been an accident on Manhattan Avenue that detoured them to Harlem. Credence didn’t mind it. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye just yet. Driving through Harlem was an experience in itself. He’d never been past the Upper East Side. Harlem was a lively neighborhood. People played music and danced in the streets despite the cold. Murals lined the walls, and there was a hopping joint around every corner. Credence looked out the window in silent awe, taking in everything he saw. 
“Have you never been here before?” (y/n) asked, noticing his astonishment. 
“No,” he told her truthfully. “It’s really nice.”
“You know, I used to live here,” she revealed.
That, he found hard to believe. His doubt must have been visible on his face because she laughed and shook her head. 
“What? You don’t believe me? It’s true, I swear! I wasn’t always like... Well, we didn’t always live in Kings Point.”
Having something to prove, Credence watched as she made a sudden turn, off course from where they were heading. The townhouses they passed were tall, skinny, and faintly worn down. The further they drove from the commercial streets, the quieter it became. They rounded about four blocks before turning into a barren street. Some houses were completely dark, while others had lights in their windows. The car slowed to a stop in front of one of the dark houses. It wasn’t terribly worn, but chipping blue paint covered the exterior and there were cracks in the brick fence that protected it. 
(y/n) parked the car and moved to get out. Credence did the same, opening the door and stepping onto the pavement. (y/n) came to his side and eyed the house. 
“This was my house,” she spoke after a while. “I lived here until I was nine.”
She walked up to the gate and pointed at the mailbox inside it. Faded letters that spelled her last name were imprinted on the stone from where a sign used to be. He tried to imagine her living it; it was almost comical. He only knew her to wear mink coats and designer clothes. He’d only pictured her living in a palace—somehow it felt fitting. Imagining her in such a small house and living an average life didn’t seem right. But perhaps that’s why she kept surprising him.
“No one lives here now. Sometimes I come back just to look around and remember as much about the place as I can.”
Credence walked to her side. “What do you remember?”
A smile fluttered on her lips. “I remember chasing my brothers around the house. We sat by the fire during the winter while my father read us stories and my mother knitted blankets and scarves. I learned how to ride a bike right on this street!” She looked down at the cracked pavement. “We were happier, I think.”
“Are you not happy now?”
(y/n) looked up at Credence and flushed. “I am! I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. It’s just...” She sighed. “Now that my father has his own architect firm, he’s been so busy I rarely see him anymore. My mother and I were never really close, and it’s pretty easy for us to avoid each other in such a big house. I don’t know... Sometimes I wonder if it was all worth it.”
“What about your brothers?” asked Credence. “You seem close.”
“We are,” she smiled. “We always had each other, and most of the time it was enough. Even when Aaron left to study at Oxford, Channing paid extra attention to me. Still, I want us all to be as close as we were.”
He could sympathize with that. Blood-related or not, Modesty and Chastity were his sisters. They’d been through a lot together, and that was enough for him. He didn’t know what it was like to lose a close relationship with a parent, having never had one in the first place—but he figured that’s what made it worse. 
“Anyway,” she elbowed him playfully. “D’you believe me now?”
Credence nodded. She chuckled softly, taking his hand and guiding him back to the car. They continued the rest of their drive uninterrupted. It was relatively quiet aside from the few comments she made along the way. By the time they reached Pike Street, it had started to snow again. It wasn’t heavy like the days before. The snowflakes fell slowly and softly, fluttering down gracefully on the window-shield. 
The care halted to a stop on the street corner. (y/n) turned to Credence, who was already looking at her. 
“Thank you,” he said. “For helping me.”
She smiled and looked down at her hands. “You don’t need to thank me,” she blushed. “I was happy to.”
“Still, I want to. Thank you, for everything.”
“You’re welcome.”
They regrettably said their goodbyes, something Credence hated doing because he was never sure when he’d see her again. He stepped out of the car and onto the icy street, turning to wave goodbye at her one last time before watching her drive off down and disappear behind the buildings once she rounded the corner. Credence turned on his heels and walked back to the snow-covered chapel. His feet dragged behind him to stall his arrival. He walked up the creaking steps to the door and opened it lackadaisically. 
He began stripping himself of his outerwear when he noticed another presence in the room. He looked to the stairs and found his mother, Mary Lou, sitting there. Her icy blue eyes bore into his skull. Credence got a sudden sinking feeling in his stomach, a vestigial remnant of primal instinct that signified impending danger. 
“Hello, Mother...” He said upon seeing her. She didn't respond. She only looked at him in a way that made him increasingly nervous. He shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say.
“I have some good news.” His mouth began moving before he could think. “Father Blackwell said he would let you speak this Sunday. It’s towards the end of service, and he is only giving us three minutes to speak, but that’s better than nothing, right?”
“Did your jezebel tell you that?” She spoke dangerously.
Credence’s body tensed. “What are you talking about, mother?” He asked, fearful he already knew the answer.
Mary Lou opened her hand to reveal the pink handkerchief. His stomach dropped as she threw the cloth down at his feet. Mary Lou rose from the stairs, her heels thumping loudly as she climbed down.
“I saw you at the cathedral, Credence. You and your little harlot,” she said as she walked towards him. “I was on my way to speak with Father Blackwell when I saw the two of you skip outside with her clinging to your arm.”
Credence kept his head down, staring at the handkerchief by his feet. Mary Lou circled him like a vulture ready to pick at a rotting carcass.
“I always knew your flesh was weak... but I didn’t know all it took was a pair of big (e/c) eyes to make you fall from grace.”
“Mother, I—” The sound of her heavy hand slapping across his face cut his sentence short, sending him to the ground. 
“Silence!” She ordered. Credence felt tears prickling behind his eyes. He stared at the handkerchief lying pathetically on the floor. Mary Lou’s pointed black shoe came into his view and stepped on the delicate silk. Mary Lou was never one to yell, that’s what made her anger so much more terrifying. She spoke barely above a whisper, in a sickeningly sweet and proper tone, the cruel words that left her thin lips.
“The worst part of it is: you tried to hide it from me. You knew what you were doing was a sin. You knew that God was watching, and you did it anyway.”
“Mother, it’s not what you think,” Credence said through his strained tears. “I didn’t touch her!”
“Don’t lie to me, Credence, I saw the way you looked at her!” Mary Lou seethed. “You think I wouldn’t notice you sneaking in late? That I wouldn’t smell the perfume on your clothes?”
Credence fell silent, realizing that denial was futile. It didn’t matter what he said. Mary Lou had already set her mind about his relationship with (y/n). He knew it was too good to be true. He had been happy for far too long. He should have expected it wouldn’t last. He always screwed everything up somehow. This was his own fault. He deserved this.
“You know what I have to do now, don’t you?” She whispered.
Credence did know. His heart thrashed in his chest, fear coursing through his veins. “Mother, please, don’t!” he begged feebly. “I won’t see her again, I promise!”
Mary Lou kneeled in front of Credence. Her hand reached up to lift his head. He forced himself to look her in the eyes, his vision blurred from his tears. They were unfeeling and as cold as the words that left her lips. 
“I know you won’t. We’ll make sure of that.”
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More people die in winter than in any other season. That is a known fact. The blistering cold is more dangerous than the smoldering heat. During the winter, everything dies. The plants die, the animals die, even the sun dies just a little.
“Credence?”
There was nothing worse than winter, he thought. There was nothing worse than being left in the cold, wet, nodding in and out of consciousness—somewhere between life and death. Maybe he was being dramatic. He’d survived this at least twice before. He will be allowed back home, eventually. He would be given a hot bath and warm clothes. He would be wrapped in a blanket and laid on his bed. He would be forgiven.
But, in this moment, he had no warmth. The clothes on his back were damp, sticking to his skin like icy sheets. His already pale skin looked almost as white as the blanket of snow that covered the city, save for the faint blue tint of his lips.
“Credence.”
At first he’d thought walking would make him warmer. Maybe if he moved his muscles, his body would produce what little heat it could. Thinking back on it now, it was a pretty stupid idea. If anything, it made it worse. The wind had picked up, and the snow fell faster than it was earlier. How long had he been out here? It could have been twenty minutes or an hour, he couldn’t tell. Time moves slower when you’re miserable. What he did know was that he had walked about four blocks from the chapel. He thought he might find a place, a warm place where he could sit and rid himself of the cold.
He’d try a tea shop, a restaurant, and a bookstore before giving up. No one would let him in. They were all closed early for the holiday season. He then became increasingly aware how late in the afternoon it was, and how much colder it would be once the sun finally set. And he would still be here, cowering in a filthy alleyway that smelled heavily of rotting food and urine.
“Credence!”
How did she always mange to find him? Her large eyes bore into his own, wide and unyielding. She was close enough that her short breaths gave him the first gust of heat he’d felt since he was thrown out of the chapel. Unlike before, it didn’t smell of coffee beans, but of the hot chocolate they had shared just hours before. If the sweet scent hadn’t filled his nose, he would have sworn she was a hallucination. This was the last place he’d expect to see her. Yet, she always had a knack for turning up in places he’d least suspect. Regardless of what she always said, it felt a little more than coincidence—something just shy of fate.
“What are you doing out here? Where’s your coat?” Her hands flew to his shoulders, her own body reacting to the lack of warmth jolted and shivered.
It was her kind eyes he liked the most. Her eyes had the greatest warmth, the kind that filled your chest whenever you looked at them. He could stare into them forever and never get cold. Her eyes are what he’d miss the most.
“You’re soaking wet! You’ll freeze half to death out here! Come to my car, It’ll warm you up.” She reached for his hand, but he would not give it to her.
“Go away.”
This he could not say while looking in her eyes. It would only make it harder. There was an unpleasant pause, one that continued for a second too long. Her voice, he would miss the sound of her voice as well. He wanted to remember it as best he could, even if the last words she would say to him were full of resentment.
“What?”
He turned his back to her, hiding his tears. He had to do this. It was bound to happen anyway. What was the point in watering a dead plant? The fantasy should have long since ended. It shouldn’t have begun in the first place.
“I’m fine. Just go away,” his voice was barely above a whisper.
But he wasn’t fine, and he didn’t want her to leave. He wanted to follow her to the car, where she’d wrap him in the wool blanket she kept in the back seat, and she’d hold his hands to keep them warm.
She scoffed, her heels scuffing on the asphalt as she stepped back, exasperated. “Yeah, right, you’re one minute away from mummifying out here! Just get up and come with me!” She reached for him again, taking his hand. Her touch. He’ll miss her touch.
“No!” He jerked away from her gentle hands.
He didn’t need to see her face to know it hurt her. It hurt him just to say it. But he had to. He made a promise he had to keep. No matter how much it hurt. The next words to fall from his lips would be nothing but lies to mask the truth.
“I don’t need you.”
I do.
“I don’t need your help.”
Help me.
“I don’t want to see you anymore!”
Please don’t go.
Another pregnant silence. The lump in Credence’s throat was large enough to suffocate him. Every time he tried to swallow it down, it would grow bigger, prompting more tears to stain his cheeks.
“You don’t want to see me anymore?” She repeated. Her voice was as cold and steady as the snow that fell around them.
Everything dies in winter. The plants die, the animals die, even the sun dies just a little. The sound of her heels knocking on the asphalt faded along with her warmth. He’d call out to her if he wasn’t a coward. He would tell her the truth and beg for her forgiveness if he had the strength. But when he couldn’t smell lavenders or vanilla, or feel her unwavering warmth, he knew that it was too late. She was gone.
He fell to the ground, burying his head in his knees to muffle his pained cries. The icy ground didn’t phase him. He felt nothing but the ache in his chest and the swell of his throat. He wondered if that pain would ever go away. Could he continue on like this? With the feeling that a part of him had been taken?
He unclenched his fist, revealing frayed pink fabric; the stitched golden letters staring back at him mockingly. It was the only surviving piece of the handkerchief his mother burned. He’d picked it from the ashes before she threw him out on the streets. The smell of ash and smoke dulled the scent of lavender and vanilla it once carried. But, if he focused hard enough, he could still smell the traces of her perfume. For now, it will be enough.
He sat in the alleyway until the early night sky replaced the setting sun. He would sit and listen to the passing cars and pedestrians in silence, until he could no longer feel the fabric in his hands, or the sting of his aching muscles. His swollen eyes grew heavy, barely staying open longer than a second. He closed them, letting his body relax and fade slowly into nothingness.
Slipping in and out of consciousness, he stayed curled in the alleyway, unaware of his surroundings. Unaware that a car had parked outside the alley entrance. Ignorant to the footsteps that neared his meek form and the shadow that loomed over him. He was oblivious to it all until he felt a weight on his head and shoulders. He pried his eyes open to find himself wrapped in a thick wool blanket.
A dainty (s/c) hand opened for him, tempting him to take it; his saving grace.
“I’m not going to leave you like this. I couldn’t live with myself if I did.”
Her eyes weren’t angry. They weren’t cold or full of resentment. They were as kind and warm as they always had been, perhaps even more. Her rosy lips held a gentle smile just for him.
“You don’t have to see me again after tonight,” she concurred. “But I need you to get in the car. Please, Credence. Just one more night, then you’ll never have to see me again.”
Had it been anyone else, he would have refused. The hold his mother had on him was stronger than the yearnings of his heart. His fear of her would keep him from acting on his desires—what he truly wanted. It had been that way for as long as he could remember. But now, with her hand outstretched for him to take, there was no nagging fear pulling him away. No voice in the back of his head vilifying him from acting on his whims. Because, for the first time, someone had heard what he didn’t dare to say aloud. For the first time, someone cared. 
Had it been anyone one else, he wouldn’t have taken their hand. He wouldn’t have stood from the frozen ground or walked towards their car. Anyone else, and he wouldn’t have gotten inside and felt the heat melt his frozen muscles. If it was anyone but her, he would still be wasting away in the freezing, damp alleyway. 
“Just try to relax and get warm,” she told him as they drove off. He didn’t have the strength to speak. He was far too tired. She could see from the corner of her eye that he was falling asleep. His head rested on the window, his bloodshot eyes struggling to stay open. She took his hand that rested in his lap. It was cold to the touch, like ice, as if no blood coarsed through his veins. 
She refused to let go, instead she held it tighter. “Rest. I’ll wake you up when we get there.”
If he wasn’t already drifting to sleep, he would have asked where she was taking him, but his eyes refused to open, and his lips would not open to pose the question. Instead he let the motion and hum of the car lull him to sleep. 
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New York City was known for many things: its gigantic skyscrapers, the lively scene, the people. But it was easy for tourists to see what the locals could not. New York City was by no means as glorious as its reputation would like you to believe. Everything great about it was reserved for people who could afford it. Shopping, clubbing, broadway, the cinema; it was all novelty. The grit of New York City was something the average New Yorker would like to escape. If the city was as great as it was made out to be, then why did the wealthy live upstate in their palatial mansions? It’s because beyond the smog and stench of the city was fresh air, and acres of woodlands and grasslands to admire. 
That’s all Credence could see when he opened his eyes from what felt like a year’s rest. From the passenger window he could make out the shadows of tall, snow covered maples and oak trees rushing past. The road was long and winding, twisting through the scenic route with ease. 
Beyond the trees, he could make out the orange lights of houses drawing near. It wasn’t long before the trees were replaced by vast mansions with plunging yards, overly decorated for the holiday season. The drowsy fog had barely lifted from his mind to take in such a foreign sight. As his mind awoke, so did the rest of his senses. He became aware of his body, and how it was no longer cold and wet. He could feel his blood circulating in his hands and feet, allowing them to move and wiggle as he pleased. His nose was no longer stuffed, and the numbness in his face had left. 
Taking a peak through the corner of his eye, he saw her; her eyes focused on the road. The light from the passing mansions cast shadows over her features. She was otherwise relaxed, if it weren't for the faint wrinkle of her forehead, the kind that appeared when she was deep in thought. He was too afraid to say anything. Even if he wasn't, he wouldn’t know what to say. Things had happened so suddenly, he couldn’t keep up.
Instead, he kept silent and watched the houses roll by as she drove. Trapped in his thoughts, he began to realize just where she was taking him. He didn’t know why she thought to bring him here, or what she planned to do, but he concluded she was taking him to her home. He’d never been to Kings Point before and he never imagined going within his lifetime, but he could say with confidence that it did not disappoint.
Kings Point was exactly how he imagined it, save for a few minor details. Under different circumstances he would be awestricken, but tonight he didn’t have the energy for it. All he had the energy to do was count the mansions they passed in his head. It was better than thinking of the events that lead him there.
He counted seventeen pompous manors before the car’s speed gradually reduced to a cruise. He watched as a large manor with swooping gable roofs and multiple chimneys came into view. An untouched layer of snow blanketed its long front yard. Windows were plentiful, all of which were lit with those distinct orange lights.
The car pulled into the long driveway, normally protected by a gate, but tonight that gate was left open, allowing them to drive through with ease. As they drove closer to the main manor, he could see the two other sprawling houses that surrounded a large courtyard highlighting a marble fountain.
When the car came upon the front of the manor, there was a man in a black tailcoat tuxedo waiting for them. The car came to a stop, and the man came around the hood to the driver’s door.
“Miss (y/n), welcome home,” he said as he opened the door. (y/n) thanked him, taking his outstretched hand and stepping onto the scalloped cobblestone.  
When the door closed behind her, leaving Credence inside. The two were clearly conversing, presumably about him. She would steal a glance at him through the window a few times while she spoke. The man, who he could now see was no longer in his youth, only nodded compliantly. When the two seemed to come to an understanding, (y/n) walked around to his side of the car, opening it for him to step out.
“Follow me,” She said, taking his hand.
She wasted no time pulling him from his seat and leading him off to some side entrance of the manor. The door they entered was smaller than the wide, double-doors he saw at the front entrance. Inside was just as grand as the outside. The door they took lead to a kitchen as big as the chapel he lived in. Currently, it was packed with chefs prepping large platters of food and servers organizing the trays.
(y/n) clasped his hand tightly as they bulldozed their way through the kitchen. She apologized to the passing help, weaving her way through to the door that stood on the opposite end of the room. Credence kept his head low, allowing her to guide him. Once they reached the adjacent door, she pushed her way through, pulling him down a hallway that he could see led to a set of stairs.
They were rushing down the hall when they passed a side room they didn’t realize was occupied. Their footsteps prompted the voice of a woman to call out into the hall.
“(y/n), honey, you’re back already?”
(y/n) stopped in her tracks, cursing under her breath. She held her finger up to her lips, telling Credence to stay quiet.
“Yes.” She answered.
The woman called out again. “I thought the shops would be busy today.”
“They were.”
“Well, did you get everything you wanted?”
“Yes.”
There was a moment’s pause before the woman spoke again.
“Alright,” she said. “Don’t go picking at the food in the kitchen! You’ll just have to wait until tonight like everyone else!”
(y/n) rolled her eyes. “Alright, Mom.”
She signaled for Credence to continue walking towards the staircase as her mother continued to talk from the room.
“And once you put your gifts away, come back and help me finish arranging the poinsettias in the foyer!”
“I will!” She yelled back while pulling Credence up the stairs.
She practically dragged him down the upstairs hall and pushed him into a room, closing the door behind them. That flowery scent that was distinctly hers immediately overtook his senses. The wide, circular room was lit up by various lamps and a sparkling chandelier made of iridescent crystals that hung at its centre. The dark wood panelling of the walls contrasted the rosy accents: blush pink art deco wallpaper, tall white drapes that covered balcony doors, the various mix-match carpets that covered the wood floor like patchwork. The broad circular bed enclosed in a silky white canopy sat against the wall next to a small fireplace. On the other side was a door he assumed led to a bathroom.
(y/n) stood awkwardly by a three-mirror vanity, bashfully fiddling with a silver hairbrush. She’d shed her coat.  
“Sorry about her,” she muttered. “She gets like this around the holidays.”
It was overwhelming, being in her room. He’d barely had a moment to register all that was happening. Now that he had the chance to breathe, his anxiety got the better of him. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He should be in the city, on his knees begging his mother to forgive him, not miles away in King’s Point; and definitely not in her bedroom.  
“This was a mistake. I shouldn’t be here—”
“You promised me, Credence,” she interjected, silencing him. “Please... Just let me have tonight.”
He clenched his jaw, turning his head to stare at the wall. It was better than looking in her eyes. He heard her move from the vanity. The sound of a cabinet being opened caught his attention. She had an armoire of her own, though hers was grander than his. It towered over her, composed of white and gold painted wood. From inside, she retrieved a blueberry colored suit. Credence recognized it as the suit she eyed in the window the week before. 
“I got you something,” she said, placing the suit on the bed, along with a fresh pair of brown oxfords. “I know you told me not to... but I just couldn’t help myself.”
Credence walked to the edge of the bed, brushing the material with his fingers. She got this for him.  
She moved to a dresser, where she pulled a neatly folded white towel and cloth from the drawer. She walked back to his side, holding the towels out for him to take.
“There's a bathroom behind that door. You can take a bath and get yourself ready. I’ll come back once I’ve finished helping my mother.”
He took the towels from her hands, leaning towards the idea of a bath. His body still hadn’t completely warmed from the ride, and his clothes still stuck uncomfortably to his skin. She left him alone in her bedroom, closing the door behind her as she left.
Credence stayed by her bed even after she had left. He took the suit into his hands. The material was thick and soft. He could tell by the fine stitches it was of high quality, unlike the suit he currently wore. He collected the pants and shoes in his arms and walked to the bathroom door. Much like the bedroom, her bathroom was big. A porcelain bathtub resting on top of golden legs facing a large window that looked over one of the gardens. Credence walked across the mosaic floor and turned the knob of the tub. Hot water rushed from the faucet and filled the tub. Steam rose into the air, forging the mirror above the sink. He placed his clothes on a stool away from the tub so it wouldn’t get wet.
Stripping himself of his clothes, he dipped his foot into the warm water. Pleased by the feeling of the hot water heating his skin, he pulled the rest of his body into the tub and submerged himself until only his head remained above water. He sat in the water unmoving for a while with his eyes closed. The water relaxed his tense muscles, ridding his body of the prickling cold. As he sat there, resting his head against the edge of the tub, he thought about how long this would last. Why did she bring him here? 
Credence opened his eyes and found a rectangular bar of soap sitting on the tub’s edge. He lifted his hand from the water and took it, bringing it to his nose. Lavenders. 
He really shouldn’t be here. There was a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that was sure something would go wrong. His mind went back to what she’d said. He promised her he would stay with her tonight. He supposed he did, even if he hadn't explicitly say the words ‘I promise’. Taking her hand was more than an answer. 
But he had made another promise—a promise to someone he never dared to disobey so brazenly. He promised he would never see her again, to wipe her from his life and pretend like she never existed. And yet, here he was, laying in her bathtub, washing himself with her soap, wearing the clothes she bought him, and standing in her room. 
Credence stared at himself in the mirror by the armoire, now dressed in the blueberry suit she’d given him. It fit perfectly, as though it were made for him. It probably was. The shoes on his feet were comfortable. At first, he didn’t think they would fit; they were much larger than the pair of shoes he always wore. But after he pulled his socks up and slid his foot inside, he realized it wasn't that the shoes were too big, but his were a size too small. He could walk in them without his toes uncomfortably pressing against the tip. His toes could breathe and soles of his feet didn’t ache with every step. 
He almost didn't recognize his reflection. It was like another person was staring at him in the mirror. He looked like one of the men he admired in Times Square. The handsome scholars who came down from The Eggs to frequent the speakeasies to unwind after a long day of doing whatever rich boys do. He looked like the kind of man she belonged with.
A knock came from beyond the door.  “Are you decent?” Her muffled voice called from behind it. 
The door opened, and she peaked her head inside, meeting his eyes immediately.
“I knew it’d look good on you,” She smiled brightly, making her way towards him. “Does it fit nicely? I tried my best to guess your measurements. I was afraid it would be a bit off.”
He let her place her hands on his chest, smoothing the fabric of any wrinkles. His heart beat in his chest loudly, like it always did when she got this close. He watched her closely as she looked him over, avoiding his eyes. Her hands flew up to the black tie around his neck. 
“Your tie is a bit crooked.” She chuckled softly, taking the tie into her hands. “Let me.”
“Why are you nice to me?” He spoke lowly as she untied the knot. 
She furrowed her brows, her hands halting. “I’m sorry?”
“Most people would have ignored me had they saw me lying on the streets like I was today, and the day we met. Many people did. But you...” Credence struggled to find the words. “You helped me after I had fallen and dropped my papers, then you drove me home. The other week you insisted on buying me a coat, even though I told you I was fine without one, and then you took me to that restaurant. And then today, you convinced Father Blackwell to let my mother speak. You’ve been kind to me without even knowing me. Why?”
(y/n) lifted her head to meet his eyes. “Do I need a reason?” She countered. “Can’t I just want to?”
When he didn’t answer, she understood that wouldn’t be enough. She sighed, focusing her attention back on the tie. 
“Why did I do those things?” She bit her cheek in thought. “The night we met, I saw what that jerk did and wanted to help you. You looked so... sad. People walked over you—ignored you. It was like you didn’t exist, like I was the only one who saw you. I didn’t like it—seeing you like that. I just thought it would be nice to see a smile on your face. Maybe if I saw you smile, it would make me feel better.”
“Now that I’ve seen your smile, I’ve become a bit fond of it. Addicted is probably the better word. After seeing you smile for the first time, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I wanted to see it all the time. If stuffing you full of burgers and teaching you how to skate put a smile on your face, I would do it. I would do anything to keep you smiling.”
She looped the tail of the tie and pulled the knot, tightening it around his neck. She adjusted his collar and let her hands fall to her sides. Her eyes flickered up to meet his. 
“So, I guess the answer to your question is: I did those things because I like you.”
Credence swallowed the lump rising in his throat, sending it back down to his chest. His eyes glistened in the light, glazed with rising tears. His heart ached in his chest, still hanging on to her words. ‘Like’? She liked him?
“And now?” His voice cracked. “Do you still fell that way? Even after the things I said?”
“Why did you say those things?” It was clear she had been wanting to ask this for a while. “Did I do something—say something to upset you?”
Credence vigorously shook his head. “No!” 
He clasped her hands tightly, taking her by surprise. “It’s not you,” he tried to explain. “It was never you.”
She held his hands just as tight, like she was afraid he would fade away if she let go. “Then?”
He swallowed again, looking down at his feet. “It’s my mother... she...” 
(y/n) frowned. She lifted Credence’s hand, turning his palm upward to expose the raised scars on his palms. 
“Was she the one who did this to you?” She whispered, though it sounded as if she already knew the answer. 
Credence stayed silent. He didn’t have the strength to say it out lout. 
“Did she leave you out on the street?” She asked, anger rising in her voice. 
“She doesn’t want me to see you anymore,” He muttered, shamefully. 
“Is that what you want?” 
Credence stilled. Nobody had ever asked him what he wanted. They locked eyes, (y/n)’s stared deeply into his, yearning for an answer. He barely opened his mouth to answer when a knock came from beyond the door, the person behind it bursting into the room. 
(y/n) dropped his hands, turning to face the culprit.
“Aaron, how many times have I told you to wait for me to answer before coming in my room?”
Aaron was a stocky man, just a few inches shorter than Credence. His angular face was covered with a tapered beard. He had the same (s/c) skin and (h/c) hair as (y/n), but his eyes were a light brown. He wore a black formal tuxedo with a matching bowtie. The smile on his face fell slightly as he looked between her and Credence. 
“Sorry sis, I didn’t realize you had company.”
(y/n) sighed, crossing her arms. “What do you want?”
Tearing his eyes from Credence, Aaron turned his attention to his sister, his smile widening. “I just thought you might like to say hello to someone.”
(y/n) raised a curious brow. “Who?”
The answer to her question walked in not a second later, dressing in a black fitted full dress tuxedo. He too shared a similar complexion to (y/n) and Aaron, but unlike Aaron, his eyes were the same has hers. He smiled, displaying a row of perfectly straight white teeth. “Hey. Did you miss me, street rat?”
(y/n)’s eyes widened, “Channing?”
Channing chuckled as she sped towards him. “The one and only—Ow!”
(y/n) had punched him hard in the shoulder. “Why didn't you tell me you were coming home?!”
Aaron snickered to the side. “Told you she would do that.”
“Well, that would defeat the purpose of it being a surprise, now wouldn't it?” He said, clutching his sore shoulder. “Can’t you act like a normal sister and be happy I’m back?”
“I am happy, you jerk,” she smiled, pulling him into a hug. He hugged her back gladly. It was clear the two missed each other greatly. 
“(y/n), who’s this?” Channing asked, looking over her shoulder at Credence.  
(y/n) too looked over her shoulder, her lips still holding her elated smile. “Aaron, Channing, this is Credence. He’s my plus one for tonight.”
“Right.” Aaron skeptically squinted at Credence. “And do Mom and Dad know that you have a boy in your room?”
(y/n) placed a hand on her hip. “I don’t know. Do Mom and Dad know about you and Mr. Finnegan’s daughter?” She deflected with a glare. 
Aaron cleared his throat, wrapping an arm around his younger brother and pushing him towards the door. “We’ll see you downstairs.”
“Wait,” (y/n) went to grab Credence by the hand and pulled him towards her brothers.  “Why don’t you show Credence around? You can bond and do whatever boys do while I get ready.”
They all looked at Credence, who was too petrified to protest the proposition. Aaron gave Credence a look that made him think he wasn’t too keen on the idea, but kept his otherwise cheerful smile. 
“I don’t see why not,” said Channing kindly, flashing an inviting grin much like the one (y/n) had given him many times before. He was starting to see the similarities between the two. 
“Yeah, come on, Credence,” Aaron agreed, throwing his free arm around Credence’s shoulder. “Hang with us guys for a while, we’re much more fun than she is.”
(y/n) rolled her eyes, escorting the men out of her bedroom. Credence’s pleading eyes silently asked for her not to leave him on his own, but she said nothing to stop them. She only gave him a comforting smile from the doorframe as they pulled him from the door. 
“I’ll see you in a bit.” She promised. 
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Aaron and Channing dragged Credence down the hall, guiding him to another set of stairs. Unlike the ones (y/n) had sneaked him up an hour before, these stairs weren’t hidden in a corner at the end of the hall. It was a grand bifurcated staircase, with wide, velvet-clad sweeping steps that plunged into a wide landing that split in two directions: upwards to another wing of the manor, and downwards to the foyer. He could hear the music and babbling chatter clearly from the top of the staircase. The two brothers led him down the many steps, and again down the steps to the foyer where a great crowd of well-dressed men and women conversed under dropping garlands and mistletoe.
Without warning, they pulled him into the crowd, weaving their way through fur shawls and padded tuxedos. Tucked away in a corner of the room, Credence saw something he’d least expected: a familiar face. 
There, resting against a paneled wall, was Edmund Tully, drinking from a half finished glass of brandy. His eyes were distant and seemed to dart around the room, looking for something or someone. He wasn’t entirely sure if Edmund found what he was looking for, because when Aaron had called out to him, he gave up on his previous endeavor. 
It appeared that Edmund was not only friendly with Aaron, but Channing as well. They greeted each other as old friends do, with open arms, harmless roughhousing. Credence stood idly by, feeling out of place. It was only when Edmund set his green on him that Credence was pulled into their circle. Aaron noticed his friend’s stare and pointed his attention towards him. 
Aaron gestured to Credence, snapping his fingers. “Eds, this is uh—this is—give me a second—”
“Credence,” Edmund made up for Aaron’s forgetfulness. “Am I right? We met before.”
Aaron and Channing looked between the two unlikely acquaintances. “You have?” The eldest brother asked. 
Credence nodded, confirming Edmund’s claim. 
“Through (y/n), of course,” Edmund clarified. 
“I see,” Aaron hummed. 
A server in a tight vest came up the group of men with a tray full of glasses filled with a pinkish liquid. Credence watched as they each took a glass from the tray. 
“Do you drink, Credence?” Asked Channing, noticing Credence’s empty hand. 
“Sure he does!” Aaron exclaimed, taking an extra glass and shoving a it into Credence’s unsuspecting hand. “It’s Christmas!”
Giving into the pressure of the situation, Credence accepted the drink. It wouldn’t be the worst thing he’s done today. The gentleman made a simple Christmas toast, before taking their own respectable gulps. 
Credence brought the glass to his lips, letting the strange liquid slow past his lips and hit his tongue. Somehow the cold liquid felt like heat on his tongue, vibrating down his throat and spreading that warmth into his chest. It was a strange sensation, but not entirely unpleasant. While it was strong with alcohol, the sugary sweet after-taste made it palatable. He took another sip. 
Credence found Aaron and Channing to be decent men. Channing was more friendly to Credence that Aaron, but it had more to due with the age difference and the extenuating circumstances in which they’d met. He supposed it must have been hard warming up to the strange man who was found alone in your younger sister’s room. 
Edmund on the other hand didn’t address him much at all, only speaking to him when obligated. He had the sneaking suspicion that Edmund didn’t like him at all. Credence could care less. To be fair, Credence wasn’t sure he liked him either. 
Like (y/n) had asked, the two brothers, along with Edmund, showed Credence around the mansion. They took him upstairs and downstairs, through long halls and into opulent rooms that were also filled with partygoers. All the while, they continued to keep a full glass in their hands. Credence had drank four full glasses of pink drink by the time they circled back to the foyer—and they hadn’t even venture half of the vast manor. He wasn’t fully convinced that just one family lived in such a palace. 
They loitered the foyer, the music in the next room traveled well, distracting him from the conversation he wasn’t completely involved in. His eyes darted around the room, glossing over the painted and shaven faces of the other guests. He didn’t know what he was looking for until he found it—or rather— her. 
Descending from the heavens that was the staircase landing was her elegant figure, clothed in a velvety red dress that hung off her shoulders. Her hair fell in waves around her face, adorned with pins that resembled holly. The long pointed sleeves clung to her skin along with the rest of the dress, hugging her figure dangerously. He was the first to see her, and in parallel, she saw him first; her painted red lips curling into a wide grin once their eyes met. 
His chest was filled with a fluttering excitement as his eyes followed her movements drawing nearer. She walked straight towards him, bowing her head shyly as she got closer. The others noticed her too, hooting and hollering as she came, embarrassing her more. 
“The Princess has finally decided grace the party with her presence,” Aaron playfully jeered. 
“It’s not easy being the most attractive in the family, it takes a lot of work to look this good,” She bantered. 
“Tons of it, if you ask me,” Channing muttered snidely as he took a sip of his drink, causing a fit of harmless laughter between all of them but Credence. 
“You look amazing,” Edmund complimented over the giggles. 
(y/n) thanked him, her eyes drifting back to Credence expectingly. Flustered, Credence sputtered the first words that came to mind. “You look beautiful, you always do.”
(y/n) blushed, her girlish smile reaching her ears. Her brothers found the interaction equally amusing, stifling their laughter. Though Edmund didn’t find it so amusing, his once joyous expression faltering. 
“I have to steal my brothers for a moment,” (y/n) revealed. 
“What for?” Channing asked, unaware that he was needed. 
“Mom wants to see us all for a portrait. You were supposed to have been there by now. Daddy’s getting restless,” she told them.
Aaron cursed under his breath, having forgotten about the detail. He turned to his friend and handed him his drink. “It will only be a minute.”
Aaron and Channing hurried off towards the stairs whence (y/n) had come. Before she left, she met Credence’s eye. “Just wait for me here, okay? I’ll be right back.” 
She then disappeared up the stairs with her brothers, leaving him alone with Edmund. And then there were two. 
“Why don’t I show you to the gardens,” Edmund suggested after an awkward beat of silence. 
Credence didn’t get the chance to deny the offer before Edmund turned on his heels and headed towards the door, beckoning him to follow. Out of pure obligation, Credence followed, venturing from the manor and out into the cold (though the consistent warm buzzing in his head and chest kept him warm enough). 
Edmund guided Credence around to the main garden that sat in the center of the sprawling houses. Snow covered the hedges and statues that scattered the grounds. 
“Where are you from, Credence?” Edmund asked suddenly as they walked the garden path. 
Credence shrugged his shoulders. “Here.” 
“No, you’re not,” he said. “You might be from New York, but you’re not from here.”
Credence’s brow furrowed. What was he playing at?
“How did you meet (y/n)?” He pestered. 
“In Times Square,” Credence answered. “She helped me when I fell on the street. We kept running into each other ever since.”
Credence wasn’t sure why he was telling him all this, but he felt if he wanted to know, why not tell him? 
“You know, it's charming,” said Edmund. “How you’re sweet on (y/n). It’s pretty obvious. You look at her like a little puppy dog. It’s almost endearing. But it’s pointless.”
“Pointless?” Credence repeated. 
Edmund stared blankly at the younger boy. A sly smirk teetered on his lips.  “Oh, come on. Do you... Do you actually think you have a chance with her?”
Credence’s silence only amused him more, spurring him to laugh tauntingly. “Oh my God, you do! I almost feel bad for you!” It was only now that Credence noticed the subtle slur of his words. “Listen, mate, I’m only saying this because I feel like we could be friends. It's not going to happen. (y/n) is a sweet girl, almost too sweet. She’s oblivious to these kinds of things, you see?” He leaned against a stone post.
“How should I explain this? I’ve watched her grow up, and I have seen many young chaps like you fall all over her. She doesn’t realize her kindness attracts people. There have been many broken hearts left at her feet. You don’t want yours added to the pile, trust me.”
Yes, Credence decided in that moment he didn’t like Edmund at all. He took too much of a likeness to Ripley; they had the same condescending leer. The buzzing of his head wouldn’t allow him to hide his obvious disdain, and for the first time Credence would speak his mind, unafraid of the consequences. 
“Is yours one of them?” He asked boldly. 
“Excuse me?”
“Your heart,” he reiterated. “Is it one of the ones she broke?”
“I—”
“Do you feel threatened by me? Are you afraid that she might not like you as much as you think?” 
“What did you just say to me?” Edmund sputtered. 
Credence continued, feeling no shame for what he was about to slur and stutter. “She’s only nice to you because you’re friends with her brother and she’s known you for so long. But that isn’t enough to win her affection. Deep down, you know that.”
Edmund took Credence by the collar, “I suggest you stop talking,” he whispered dangerously. 
“You say that I don’t have a chance, then what do you have?” Credence chuckled provokingly. “She said she likes me. Has she ever said she likes you?”
“You don’t know a damn thing!” Yelled Edmund, red in the face. “To her, you’re just a pet. A sad little puppy she has to take care of. She’ll give you treats and dress you up like a doll, but it doesn’t mean anything. She’ll never see you as a man.”
“Is this what you do?” Asked Credence. “You drive away any person who you think might come between you and (y/n)? There’s nothing to come between. She’s not yours. She never was. And she’s not mine either. I don’t care if she doesn’t feel the same way I do. That doesn’t matter. But she said she liked me... and I like her.” Credence smiled. “And that is more than anything you’ll ever have with her.”
A powerful fist collided with his left cheek, sending him to the ground. The pleasing buzz in his head was replaced with rushing blood pounding against his temple. 
“I told you to stop talking,” the assailant heaved. 
Credence struggled to his hands and knees. The punch left a metallic taste in his mouth, and a bubbling rage in his stomach. Without thinking, he lunged forward, tackling Edmund to the ground. The two fell in a heap on the cobblestone, wrestling and thrashing violently. Credence got the upper-hand, landing a satisfying punch in the face, leaving Edmund with a bloodied nose. It didn’t last, because as soon as Credence wrestled his way on top, he was back under him, taking blows to the face and ribs. 
He couldn’t react fast enough to defend himself, and honestly, it was a miracle he landed a punch in the first place. He curled into himself to protect his face and ribs. The same vibrating rage he felt earlier that same day with Ripley danced under his skin. His thoughts faded in and out between consciousness, each unfamiliar thought being one of violence and rage. Pure, dark rage. 
Edmund may have got a peak at this entity—a glimpse into it’s glassy white eyes. If he had, he didn't say so. He only hesitated, a look of both confusion and fear flashing over his once blinding anger when their eyes locked. If he had seen those shining white eyes, they disappeared as soon as they came, her voice retreating the beast inside. 
“EDDY! CREDENCE! STOP IT!”
It was a trick of the lights, Edmund would later conclude. A figment of his drunken imagination. But it wasn’t true. The truth was Credence had a part of himself he couldn’t control—a part of himself that could destroy buildings and uproot roads—a part of him he couldn’t control, that is, until he met her. Until the sound of her sweet voice reached his ears and calmed the blackness to its dormant state.  
Edmund was pulled off of him, pushed several feet back while she dove for him on the ground, dirtying her red dress. The light from the lamppost and house gave the illusion that she glowed in the night.
Her eyes were big with worry. “Credence, are you okay? Does it hurt?” She helped him sit up, taking his face gently in her hands. It didn’t hurt. He couldn't feel anything but her warm hands caressing his cheeks. 
“I’m hurt too, (y/n),” Edmund croaked from his place. Aaron and Channing were there, barricading him away. “I got hit too. Why don’t you ask me if I’m okay? Huh?!”
(y/n) glared back at him. “You’re drunk!”
Edmund’s red face became wet with hot, angry tears. “WHY DON’T YOU ASK ME, (Y/N)?! DON’T YOU LIKE ME TOO?”
She held on to Credence's arm, holding him close. “I think you should go,” she muttered. 
Edmund sniffed, a look of pure heartbreak slapping over his chiseled features. “(y/n)...” He called for her one last desperate time, but she turned away, shutting him out completely. 
“Come on, man,” Aaron said sternly, pushing him back. “Let’s take a walk, okay?”
“GET OFF ME!” Edmund pushed Aaron away from him, staggering backward. He took one last long look at (y/n), hoping that she would look at him again. But she didn't. Her eyes stayed trained on Credence. He stepped back, defeated. 
“I can walk by my bloody self,” he slurred bitterly, retreating further into the garden, Aaron chasing after him. 
“Can you stand up?” (y/n) asked softly, taking Credence by the hand and pulling him to his feet. 
Channing helped as well, guiding them both back into the house. They stayed away from the festivities, taking the hidden stairs back up to her room. Channing had retrieved a medical kit after they reached her room, leaving once (y/n) insisted she could care for Credence on her own. 
Now, he sat next to her on her bed, while she shifted through the medical kit. His eyes trained on a young, black, hairless cat played curled up in a stuffed bed by the fire. This must’ve been the cat she had told him about. 
“Do you mind telling me what that was about or are you just going to stay silent?” Asked after the long silence. 
“It was nothing,” he told her, as she took his face in her hands to examine the wounds on his cheek and lip. 
“Yeah, right.” She muttered, taking a wet cotton swab and dabbing it on his scraped cheek. It burned, causing him to wince. She stopped immediately, looking apologetic. “Sorry.”
She went for the medical kit again, rummaging through it messily before stopping abruptly.
“You know what, I’m not sorry! Serves you right worrying me like that! I leave you for one minute and you’re picking fights in the street! Just look what he’s done to your face!” She cupped the side of his face where Edmund had punched him. She sighed, taking another cotton swab from the kit. 
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to yell. I don’t like seeing you hurt is all.”
He looked at her deeply through lidded eyes as she dabbed the cut on his lip. 
“We were fighting about you,” he confessed.
She stopped, her eyes flickered to his for a moment, before focusing back on his lip. “Me? Why on Earth would you be fighting about me?”
He didn’t say. She waited for an answer, but soon concluded she wouldn’t get one. He hissed when she began applying cream on his cuts. “Fine, then,” she mumbled irritably. “Don’t answer me. Just hold still—”
His lips were on hers before she could finish her harping. The swab fell from her hand in shock, her eyes wide as saucers. He was kissing her. His eyes were closed, his lips plush against hers. He ignored the sting of his cut as he pressed his lips onto hers like he’d seen couples do many times before. His heart pounded in his ears. He would have kept kissing her if he hadn’t held his breath for too long. When they parted, and he opened his eyes to see her staring, awestruck. 
His ears turned red, and a wave of embarrassment crashed over him, realizing what he’d done. “I-I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I shouldn’t have—”
Her soft lips crashed into his with passionate force, her hands flying to caress the nape of his neck. Now, it was his turn to be taken aback. Credence had kissed her how shy young couples do: pressing his lips onto hers. But she kissed him like lovers do, moving her lips feverishly against his, licking his lips coyly with her tongue. Imitating her actions, Credence let his eyes fall shut, opening his mouth for her. Her tongue slipped passed his lips and swirled around his, welcoming the foreign sensation.
“(y/n)...” He whimpered out of pure instinct. 
She pulled away, leaving him a blushing, panting mess. 
“That’s the first time I’ve heard you call me by my name,” she whispered. A smile stretched across her lips.  “Say it again.”
Credence’s cheeks burned, but he gladly did what she asked. 
“... (y/n),” he called her name again.
“Again.”
“(y/n),” he repeated.
“Credence,” she whispered his name, sending shivers down his spine.
“(y/n),” he whispered breathlessly. 
“Credence.”
“(y/n).”
She captured his lips in another sensual kiss, pushing him back onto the bed. The medical kit fell to the ground, forgotten. She laid on top of him, her legs wrapped around his thin waist, pressing her body against his like he’d imagined many times before. His heart thundered in his chest, his mind consumed by her. Lavender and vanilla, it was all around him; pressing against him, kissing him, caressing him.
“Credence,” she said between fiery kisses. “I want you.”
“Y-You want me?” He flushed, making her giggle. 
“Yes,” she chuckled, taking his hand. “Do... Do you want me too?” Her voice was small and unsure. 
Credence nodded, lacing his fingers between hers. “I’ll always want you.”
His words seemed to spur her on, reviving her confidence. “Is this okay?”
The touch of her hand on his thigh traveled down to his waist, sending shivers up his spine. The beat of his heart pulsed powerfully in his chest, ringing in his ears. He watched expectantly as she drew nearer, hovering over him. One of her hands rose to tenderly cup his cheek. Her hand was soft and warm against him. The way she touched him was unlike any other. She was always so gentle with him, so kind. 
Their lips were mere inches apart. So close he could feel her warm breath on his skin. She looked at him through hooded lids, her eyes darkened to a deep shade of (e/c).
Credence swallowed. “I...I’ve never...”
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“I want to.” 
She grinned, kissing his lips tenderly to calm his nerves. He felt her fingers move to unbutton his suit jacket. She pulled it off his shoulders, discarding it to the floor.
“Just relax,” she cooed. “I’ll take care of you.”
His black tie slipped off with ease, the buttons of his white dress shirt opened one by one the sound of fabric rubbing against each other and sultry sighs filling their ears. His shirt joined the jacket onto the ground, leaving him half-naked under her. He felt exposed, his eyes nervously fidgeting around the room. 
Her warm hands grazed the sides of his waist, delicately dancing up to his chest. She noticed the change in his breathing, his chest rising up and down in anticipation. He’d never been touched like this by anyone, not once. But now, as her hands glossed over his torso causing goosebumps to rise even though his skin was burning hot, he realized he wanted to be touched by her all the time, in every way. He wanted to kiss her over and over again; to feel her lips against his. He wanted to be close to her in the closest way possible.
As if answering his silent prayers, she pressed her chest against his, her breath tickling his cheeks. She kisses the mark on his cheekbone tenderly, then the corner of his lips, then his jaw. His eyes lull back. He let his head fall to the side, presenting his neck to her. Her hot breath on his neck excited him. Her lip pressed soft kisses down his jaw and neck, marking him with her red lipstick. Her wet tongue licked a stripe up his jugular, and he made a sound he’d only made once before in the confines of his room. 
She did it again, licking, sucking, and biting at the sensitive flesh of his neck. Credence bit his lip, muffling his desperate mewls. 
Her lips kissed up to the spot just under his ear. “It’s okay,” she whispered in his ear. “No one else can hear us. It’s just me.” 
Hoping to drive out more sweet moans, she sucked on the flesh of his neck she learned to be the most sensitive. His hips bucked upwards, grinding between her legs. He squirmed pathetically under her, his desperate pants and moans filling the room. 
His body was sensitive to her every touch, each kiss sending jolts of electricity through his body. She left love bites on the expanse of his neck and collarbone, coloring his pale skin purple and mauve. 
She caught his lips in another open-mouthed kiss, assaulting his mouth with his tongue at her pleasure. 
“Is... C-Can I touch you?” He asked through her kisses. 
She pulled away, her nose brushing against his. “Always,” she breathed. 
His hands daringly glided over her arms, reaching around her back. His fingers found the zipper to her dress and pinched, pulling it down her back until it stopped at her waist. She slid out of the dress with ease, slipping it off her body and letting it pool around her waist. His eyes glued to her bare chest, turning red from the neck up. She took his hands and guided them up her sides, outlining her feminine curves. 
She brought his hands to cup her breasts. His touch was hot on her skin, her own blush burning undeneath. He could feel her heart pounding wildly in his chest, and he knew she was just as excited as him. He let his body act on its own, his hands massaging her breasts. She let out a shaky breath, her mouth falling open. 
He continued, brushing his thumbs against her hardened nipples. Her hips rocked sensually against his twitching member. Her name slipped past his lips, his eyes trained on her figure above him. Her hands pressed on his chest, her hips moving in circles over him. Credence sat himself up, snaking his arms around her hips, gripping them firmly. They stared at each other breathlessly through half-lidded eyes. Credence’s already dark eyes turned to black pools reflecting in the moonlight. 
He mimicked her affections, placing chaste kisses under her jaw. He kissed the expanse of her neck, tasting her soft skin. He pulled her hips into him, guiding her movements in his lap. His length strained against his trousers, aching to be touched. 
“You said you want to touch me, right?” She panted. “Touch me here.”
She moved his right hand from her hip, slipping it under the velvety veil that covered where she wanted him most. He could feel her through thin lacy fabric, her heat already slick with arousal. He experimentally rubbed his fingers up and down her slit, studying the twitches and jolts of her body. She seemed to really enjoy when his fingers brushed against a certain spot, so he kept his attention there, rubbing steady circles around the sensitive area. 
Her hands gripped his shoulders, her head falling to rest in the crook of his neck. He enjoyed hearing her high-pitched moans, even as they were muffled against his neck. He pressed harder, picking up his pace to hear more. Her hips jut against his hand, jerking every so often. Her breaths quickened, and she whimpered his name in his ear. 
“Faster,” she’d pant desperately, her grip on his shoulders tightening. 
He did, circling his fingers as best he knew how. Her thighs tightened around his legs, her body stilled but he didn't stop. Only when he felt her body shake and relax against him did he stop, her sweet satisfied moan reaching his ears. 
He held her in his arms, peppering kisses on her shoulder and neck as she steadied her breathing. When she did lift her head from his neck, she pecked his lips and cheek. She held his face in her hands and moved to lie on her back, pulling him down in the process. 
He planted his hands on either side of her head. He admired her from above. Her red lipstick was faded, smudged messily on her chin, having been transfered on his own lips and neck. She didn’t break eye contact as her hands unbuttoned his trousers, pulling them down his waist and kicking them off with her feet along with his boxers. They lingered like that, just staring and admiring one another. He didn’t feel embarrassed. He felt strangely calm. The rest of the world seemed to float away. Nothing else mattered. Not the party down stairs, or the people laughing and drinking. Not Edmund and his jealousy, and not his mother and her vilification. Nothing mattered but her and him together in this room, together in her bed. 
He bent down to kiss her with all the passion and love he could muster. She was everything he could ever want and more. She was his saving grace, his goddess. He wanted to show her how much he loved her. ‘Closer,’ he thought. He needed to be closer to her.
Their lips and hips magnetized, their bodies melded together. He whispered her name like a mantra because he knew she liked hearing it as much as he liked saying it. He felt her hands slip between their bodies, grasping his length. She guided him to where she needed him, his tip pressing teasingly at her entrance. With her help, he eased inside, feeling her wrap tightly around him. They sighed in each others mouth, devouring their intoxicated moans. Her legs wrapped around his waist, urging him further. 
She opened for him like a flower in bloom. His hips moved without having to think. Being with her felt so natural. Every move he made came to him like second nature. His thrusts were slow and gentle, drawing wanton moans from her lips. Her hips rocked into him with equal fervor. She collected his moans with her kiss, her fingers tangling themselves in his hair. 
He lost himself in the feeling of her, his pace quickening. He watched her pretty face morph into varying expressions of pleasure, each thrust of his hips creating a new one. He’d never felt so good in his life. His body tingled and his skin burned pleasantly. He didn’t know it was possible to feel such pure, utter euphoria. 
He fisted the rosy silk sheets, his breath stopping in his throat. She tightened around him, and like a wave crashing down on a cliff side, he came. His body vibrated and twitched above her. He called her name into the air, his spastic thrusts edging her to her end, which—by the sounds of her shameless cries—was as powerful and illustrious as his. 
There was a moment of stillness; a moment in which they heard nothing but their shallow breaths and the crackle of the fire. They could do nothing but stay in their connected position with eyes locked. Credence fell to his side next to her on the bed. His muscles ached and his skin was slick with sweat, but he was filled with unwavering adulation. Eyes still locked, they said so much without needing to say anything at all. His hand found hers, lacing his fingers between her small ones.
They laid there, staring lovingly in each other’s eyes for what felt like hours. He silently adored her, memorizing the details of her features until his eyes grew heavy from exhaustion, slowly falling shut as graceful as the falling snow outside.  
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Credence pried open his tired eyes. The fire still burned beside him. It crackled and danced, keeping the exhausted pair warm under the thin sheets. The moonlight broke through the balcony glass door and cast shadows of the curtains across the room. There was no music heard from downstairs and the manor outside sounded empty of all festivities. 
He took the time to embrace her presence. She laid on her side, facing him. Her eyes were still shut, soft snores falling from her lips. She held his hand between their bodies. Her thick (h/c) hair sprawled wildly around her, messed by their passionate love affair. And still, even with her hair a mess, and the corner of her lips wet with drool, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He reached his free hand to brush the fray hairs from her eyes, watching her lips twitch and curl into a sleepy smile when his thumb brushed against her cheek. That smile alone rid his mind of any and all doubts that still lingered. 
There are very few moments in life worth living for. Most things in life are mundane and repetitive, and when they weren't, they were bleak and agonizing. He’d been through it many times before, taking in so much pain he thought death was a kinder fate. But, as he lay next to her, listening to her slow steady breaths, watching the rise and fall of her chest while she slept; he knew he would face it all again, if it meant he could have more of these moments with her.  
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arcadejohn127-9 · 3 years
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Ahhh I love your writing sm!! Could I request how the brothers would react to an MC that's super doting and overly loving from the get-go?. Always insists on helping w cooking duty, brings the brothers coffee if they look busy, etc? pls & ty!
Tbh I don't really have a love language over than verbal but this speaks to me
In game I make my MC very much like this, overly positive and always wanting to help. Not because I have to, I could easily pick more honest or teasing options but when it comes to it. My first instinct/Response is those options because I like the idea of being helpful to people
It's only when people start using that for their advantage or make me help them out even though I'm busy or just don't want to do it. That's when there's an issue.
Lucifer:
"oh~ Luci! You still working?"
You peered over at him at his desk, peaking from the space between the wall and the stair railing
He looked up at you with a tired expression, frowning
"I am, what do you need?"
you trotted down the rest of the steps, walking over to him with a bright smile
A tray in hand with coffee and biscuits and apple slices
"I made these for you, I know it isn't much but you're always working so hard... perhaps I can help?"
Lucifer wasn't too surprised, you were always offering your help whenever you could but it still surprised him you were so quick to offer
He didn't know how you had all that energy to face the day and then do more for others but he always enjoyed your company
"be my guest."
You grabbed a mini stool and sat beside him, you'd read over papers with him, massaging his hand whenever you noticed it cramped
He shared the snacks you got him and even revealed the mini snack draw he had in his desk
He put a finger to his lips with a smile
"don't tell my brother's, this will be just between you and me."
He showed you what he had and you picked whatever caught your fancy, happily eating as you looked over the papers
Mammon:
He wasn't use to Someone being nice to him so when you came along and offered acts of service - he was blown away!
Even over time he wasn't really use to it
Speaking of you and your acts or service; you were whistling a happy tune
A thick wallet in your pocket, you headed straight to mammons room
It was as if he could smell the money, he rushed to your side and started eyeing the wallet
"Stop peeking - it's a gift."
He looked at you confused but was grinning
"oh? The great Mammon can't refuse a gift!"
You placed the wallet in his hand, he let out a yelp at the weight of it
It was completely loaded!!! It was stuffed with money!
He couldn't believe it - it had to be a trick! There was no way you were giving him this much money!
"Are ya playing with me? Ha ha human."
"no tricks, you've been struggling with your debt to the witch's so I thought I'd help, I heard you've been getting in trouble with Lucifer more because of it so I wanted to help!"
He didn't even realize he teared up, he jumped towards you and hugged you close
Nuzzling your faces together as he hugged you tight
"You-! YOU DAMN HUMAN- NO YOU ANGEL! YOU'RE THE BEST THING THAT'S HAPPENED TO ME!"
You patted his arm, laughing and it wasn't long before he was planning to spend a big splurge on you despite his issues with money already
Levithan:
He was shuffling into his room, headphones on and just starting to calm down
Today was hectic so he was happy to finally be back home
"Evening! Don't worry, I still used the secret password."
"HUH-?! THAT'S NOT- WHY ARE YOU IN MY ROOM?!"
He threw his headphones off, face bright red
He should of known you were up to something, you kept humming whenever you entered his room
Talking about cleaning up after himself but he kept forgetting due to getting distracted
"I noticed it's gotten really messy so I decided to clean it for you but before you say anything, I know you hate when it's cleaned because you don't know where anything so I've labelled where everything has been stored if it's changed places."
He was still upset, he REALLY hated it when things are changed without him knowing first
But he looked around the room and sure enough, things were still in the cupboards and places he stacked them in and the labels were correct
Everything was completely organized! All the piled up ramen was even gone!
He exhaled a long breathe calming himself down, he was happy - really really happy
"Thanks.... just - can we arrange something next time? But I do like what you did! It looks nice - it's much better now!"
"of course, I'll ask next time - also~ I got you some special ruri-chan themed chips in hopes to make you feel better."
He moves before he knows it, hugging you tight
"STAY WITH ME FOREVER!!!!"
He's definitely embarassed afterwards and gets you out of his room before he makes himself look more like a love sick fool
But don't worry, he texts you wanting to hang out later
Satan:
Satan has been locked in his room after having a big outburst earlier that day
He got overwhelmed from all the noises and threw a book at mammon
You waited awhile before going after him, wanting him to calm down and looked after mammons sore head
You grabbed the book he threw, making a nice calming tea and even made some Apple pie
When you knocked his door he freezed
"Who is it-?! Lucifer, I'm not in the mood for your scolding-"
"it's just me, I got you something!"
He opened the door for you, letting you inside
His room looked clean for once - you didn't doubt he continued his rage into his room and cleaned up to calm down
You offered him a smile, placing the tray on his bed
"I hope you like it, I made it myself."
He looked at the fresh apple pie, his stomach rumbling at the mere sight of it
"you did this...for me? Didn't I scare you?"
You hummed, sitting close to him
"yeah a little but everyone has their bad days, you having one doesn't change anything - though you do need to apologize to mammon."
He sat down by his bed, placing the tray on his lap
"you're right I do, thank you for not just seeing me as some angry creature....I didn't intend to blow up like that."
You patted his arm, still smiling
You two sat together, you read his book for him whilst he ate and drank
He was very bashful at how supportive you are but that was you, you've always been so quick to offer help or do things for people ever since you've arrived
You were good to him, he'll always appreciate that
Asmodeus:
His love language is affection and words
Yours is acts of service
It's perfect!
Though, when it was established you were quick to help and offer your service - prepare for MANY innuendos
He'll come skipping to you, draping himself off the nearest object and asking if you want to help him de-stress
Most of the time you just have spa days or lay around doing nothing
You decided to treat him today seeing as exams were stressing him out
"Asmo! Won't you help me? I have this lovely new-"
He's skidding as he appears in the doorway, ready to do whatever you want
But you just grinned, knowing your plan worked
You grabbed him and shoved him into a chair
Before he knew it; his hair was tied up and his jacket and scarf has disappeared
"oh? What's all this about? Does my love want some special care?"
"nope, I just want to look after you today~ you've been stressing over exams so much, I wanted to treat you like a prince."
He had the biggest grin on his face after that
And treated like a prince he was
You did his skin routine, brushed his hair and curled it
If he even mentioned being thirsty you were straight to getting him a nice refreshing drink
If you're able to - please carry him bridal style - he will love every second of it
"you treat me so well, I know I'm already a blessing to this demonic world but you're just pure light."
He's so love sick, an absolute fool in love
"nonsense, I'm just helping you like usual."
Which is true, you were always being helpful to him
Thats why he loved doing whatever he could for you
"Never leave the Devildom, I couldn't bare not seeing your beautiful face everyday."
You just laughed, massaging his face and gave him a quick kiss
Beezlebub:
Another person who does acts of service as a love language
Though, do forgive him if he forgets due to hunger - he'll immediately make it up to you
At this point he's become a subconscious challenge/game of service - always trying to one up each other
Currently, he was really anxious about his up coming game
It was the biggest one that R.A.D was having and was against a smaller school in the Devildom
The brothers all agreed to come watch him play and even made banners and levi brought glowsticks
You were no were to be seen
The weeks running up to the game you were always busy and whilst you still do some things for him here or there - you were mostly out of the house
But it was but a long lasting plan
You planned on supporting him the best way you could!
When he finally rolled onto the field he felt dread when he didn't spot you in the crowd
He couldn't stop frowning until he saw you, shaking pom poms and running with the cheersquad
That's right, you joined the cheer team to show your support for the lovely demon
"I WANT TO DEDICATE A CHEER TO OUR STAR PLAYER - BEEZLEBUB!!!"
He's so flustered and absolutely shining with joy under his helmet
As soon as he could he came running towards you and hugged you tight
"I was so worried I did something that made you drift away....you did this for me?"
"of course! I'm sorry I made you worried, I wanted to surprise you."
He had to take off his helmet after trying to nuzzle your face, you yelped when it bonked you
"This is the best thing anyone has done for me, thank you (Y/N)."
"you're welcome, now go win that game! Prove those losers that R.A.D is the best school around!"
It was no surprised that R.A.D won
The players all cheered and partied, inviting the band and cheerleaders to celebrate with them
But you decided to have a sleepover with Beelzebub, feeding him plenty of tasty foods as your own type of celebration
"Open wide."
You almost choked on the cake basically shoved in your mouth, laughing as frosting covered your nose and cheeks
You got your revenge but he happily licked what he could
This is the best celebration he could ever get
All because of you!
Belphegor:
Even if your love language wasn't acts or service, you definitely got in the habit of doing it with this guy
He was spoilt from always being carried and pampered by his twin
He could get away with sleeping anywhere as long as he got things done and good grades
But you were always the helpful human, giving him snacks or fluffing his pillows
He's joked about getting a bell so he could call you whenever he needed you
That never happened
"Belphie!! You awake? I got something for you."
He immediately popped his head up and waved to get your attention
You showed him the cup of hot mocha you've recently made; sweet and delicious and has an extra kick to help with keeping awake
"Smells delicious, you made this?"
"yep! Now drink up, we got plans today."
He happily drunk it, feeling more awake with every gulp
By the end of the Cup he was absolutely overjoyed from the taste
Though you almost groaned in frustration when he yawned, so happy that he got sleepy
"you have anymore~? I could drink loads of these- make me more, you know how to make them, I'm too sleepy - it's your fault I'm sleepy."
You flicked his head
Reminding him to not act like a brat
But you did make him more and throughout the day you'd give him a large cup
You needed to do studies and make sure belphegor kept his grades up - Lucifer's orders
But he was already a star pupil regardless so you weren't sure why you had to
But spending time with your favourite demon was never an issue, regardless of his attitude
"We need to do this more, I love it when you look after me."
"I know, now write your answer, I need proof you're working so I don't get strung up."
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nashibirne · 3 years
Text
Intellectual Stimulation
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This is a follow-up to my first Mike fic (My Best Mistake), which was a huge flop 🙈 but I hope you like the second part better...if so, please leave me a comment, reblog or like 💜 You can read this without knowing part 1 though!
Pairing: Mike x y/n
Summary: Mike wants to impress his girlfriend by being a little more sophisticated
Words: ~ 1.8 k
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, unprotected sex, dry humping, vaginal sex, creampie, creampie eating
NO BETA! English is not my mother tongue, so expect bad grammar, wrong spelling, chaotic punctuation and clumsy language. All mistakes are mine…
Credits: I don’t own anything related to Hellraiser: Hellworld! A huge thank you to @nix-akimbo for the edit of Mike with glasses. I loved using it for the moodboard, the other pics are from pinterest. I don't know who invented Professor Cavill, but credits to you too because I briefly mention him in this story. I quote parts of "The Picture Of Dorian Gray" by Oscar Wilde.
You can find my other fics on my masterlist.
Taglist (please let me know if you want to be added or removed)
@lunedelorient @inlovewithhisblueeyes @willkatfanfromasia @hell1129-blog @mis-lil-red @agniavateira @kebabgirl67 @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @summersong69 @taebfada @xxxkatxo @artandotherdelights @notabronte @littlefreya @luclittlepond @eldarwen333 @meowpurrbooks @marantha @liliumdream @enchantedbytomandhenry @greensleeves888 @witcherfan @margauxmargaux07 @radaofrivia @m07belzen @a-little-counter-esperanto @starstruckkittyangel @mary-ann84 @sillyrabbit81 @emelinelovesjc @wheretheriversrunintothesea @lam0ureuxq
Off we go...
*********
Premise: Mike and his girlfriend have been together for a few months now and everything could be perfect if there wasn't that one little problem called Professor Cavill. He's y/n's lecturer in English literature and she talks about that boomer with the good looks and the tweed jackets and the dad jeans way too often. Plus Mike has seen the way the old debaucher looks at y/n when they meet him on campus. So in short, Mike is annoyed with the guy who seems to be some kind of intellectual superman, especially because he can't keep up with him. Not a bit. When he met y/n for the first time he impressed her by reciting a poem but unfortunately it is the only poem he knows. He isn't sophisticated and although y/n keeps telling him she doesn't care he feels bad and decides to do something about it.
I take a look around the room one last time and yes, everything looks perfect. It's clean and tidy, I made the beds with fresh sheets, I placed some very pretty flowers on my desk and most importantly, I bought a huge box of vintage books plus a special item at a rummage sale. The books are strategically placed in the room in little piles - beside the bed, on the shelf, on the little table beside my sofa and on the floor in the corner of the room. The special item is sitting on my nose and I really hope y/n is not going to burst laughing when she sees me.
Where is she anyway? Late of course, as usual. I take one of the books and open it to read the first pages again. I want to be prepared in the best way possible. The book is old and the cover looks strange but cool. Antiquated of course but still somehow modern with the half-rotten scull and the snobby looking guy printed in black and gold on it. Very avant-garde, Professor Dickhead would say I guess, artsy-fartsy I say.
When I hear the key in the front door I take a deep breath to calm my nerves and turn around with a big smile.
"I'm sorry, I know I'm late. I missed my bus." She returns my smile, hardly looking at me because she has problems with removing her key from the lock. "You really have to change the lock, baby. One day my key will break off."
"Sure. First thing tomorrow, sweet cheeks."
She looks at me, surprised by the enthusiasm in my voice and now, on second sight, she sees it.
"Mike! Oh my god…", she says, covering her mouth with her hands, "what the fuck? You look great!"
"You like it?" I give her a smirk and step closer to greet her with a soft kiss on her pretty lips.
"I love it! But why? I mean...you don't need glasses. I'm confused." She laughs light-heartedly and I grin. "It's just clear glass. I thought you might like me looking a little more sophisticated." I wiggle my head with a grin and she smiles, cupping my face with her hands. "I love you just the way you are, but I have to admit the glasses are damn sexy on you." She gets on her toes to kiss me and I hug her tightly.
"So what are we up to tonight? You said you have special plans for us?"
"Just take a look around, I'm sure you can figure it out." I plop down on the sofa and look at her expectantly.
"Umm...well. You tidied up your mess…"
"Yep. But there's more."
"Fresh sheets...wait...the books. You don't have so many books," she giggles before taking a closer look at one of the piles. "Out of Africa?" She raises her eyebrows and I grin.
"Some are for the heart, some are for the brain." I grab the artsy book and show it to her.
"Ooh...I adore Oscar Wilde. The Picture of Dorian Gray is my favorite!"
"I know, you mentioned it when you were talking about Professor Know-it-all's class the other day."
She rolls her eyes and it looks fucking cute. No, wait, it looks absolutely enchanting! I should adapt my vocabulary to my new look.
"Is this about Professor Cavill? Are you still jealous?"
"I'm not a bit jealous but I thought it wouldn't hurt to broaden my horizon by reading some classics and if you want to, we could read some stuff to each other and talk about it? Like our own private book club. What do you think, babe?"
"That's a great idea. Count me in." She kisses me again before cocking her head, looking at me with a smirk. "Fuck, these glasses really suit you, baby. You look so hot..."
"Please, Miss. Show me a little respect. I want to be desired for my keen intellect, not for my extraordinary good looks", I joke with an exaggerated frown.
"Idiot!" Y/n laughs out loud and nudges me playfully, "so you're all brains today, huh? Then bring it on. Read to me like one of your french girls." She plops down beside me and I snicker at her Titanic reference. I love the movie -don't you dare tell anyone-, and she hates it because she finds it boring but she still watches it with me whenever I'm in the mood for it. Okay….she usually falls asleep with her head in my lap after 15 minutes but it's the thought that counts and in return I do some cultural stuff with her, exhibitions and such. We went to a vernissage last week and to a reading in a bookstore the other day. So, you see... it's high time for some intellectual stimulation.
"Of course. Let's see what we've got here", I splay my fingers in an affected manner and grab the frame of my glasses with my thumb and middle finger to adjust them before I clear my throat and start to read, putting an extra dark timbre into my voice.
"The studio was filled with the rich odour of roses, and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden, there came through the open door the heavy scent of the lilac, or the more delicate perfume of the pink-flowering thorn."
I look up from the book to see that y/n obviously likes my reading voice. She seems captivated and I like the way she gazes at me so adoringly. "Go on", she says softly and I continue.
"From the corner of the divan of Persian saddle-bags on which he was lying, smoking, as was his custom, innumerable cigarettes, Lord Henry Wotton could just catch the gleam of the honey-sweet and honey-coloured blossoms of a laburnum, whose tremulous branches seemed hardly able to bear the burden of a beauty so flamelike as theirs;"
I read the first few pages and I start to like both, the book and the growing erotic tension between me and y/n. She moves closer to me with every paragraph. After I turn the pages for the first time I feel her hand on my thigh, after I do it for the second time she starts to stroke me through my jeans and I sigh before I concentrate on the poetic words again. While Lord Henry and Basil Hallward talk about bane and boon of extraordinary talent, brains and beauty, I get hard under her touch. I stop reading to kiss her but she shakes her head and nods at the book. "No. Go on, Mike. Read." Her voice is thick with desire now and it turns me on even more but I give her what she wants.
"“Harry,”said Basil Hallward, looking him straight in the face, “every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter. The sitter is merely the accident, the occasion. It is not he who is revealed by the painter; it is rather the painter who, on the coloured canvas, reveals himself."
I moan when y/n decides to straddle my lap. She hitches up her boho style maxi skirt before she sits down and all that's between my hard-on and her sweet pussy now is the delicate lace of her panties and the thick fabric of my jeans. The sexy crochet bralette top she wears is not really helpful. Just Oscar Wilde separates me from her spectacular breasts right now. I'm about to put the book aside but she stops me again. "Keep reading." She rubs herself over my boner and looks me in the eyes with a teasing smile. I think this is a promising start to whatever is going to follow and so I go on and on. She's dry humping me now with slow motions, rolling her hips, riding me with closed eyes. I moan again, I'm so turned on I can hardly speak anymore but I try my very best to keep my girl entertained.
"I turned half-way round and saw Dorian Gray for the first time. When our eyes met, I felt that I was growing pale. A curious sensation of terror came over me. I knew that I had come face to face with someone whose mere personality was so fascinating that, if I allowed it to do so, it would absorb my whole nature, my whole soul, my very art itself."
And that's it. That's the moment of escalation. We are no longer able to control ourselves and y/n takes the book from my hands and throws it away carelessly before she starts to kiss me with a passion I've never tasted on her tongue before. While we make out like love-crazed predators she opens my belt and my fly and she lifts her butt to allow me to get rid of my pants and boxers. She takes off her top and I push her panties aside, feeling how wet she already is. Wet and eager to take my cock. She sinks down onto my dick slowly and the feeling of stretching her tight pussy is as sensational as ever. I grab her ass and knead her juicy cheeks while kissing and sucking her boobs and her hard nipples. I know how much it turns her on when I bite those little rosy buds and caress her breasts, one time she even came when I took real good care of her tits while she was jerking me off.
But today she rides me and I thrust into her hot core with strong movements, rocking my pelvis rhythmically, and we kiss passionately while my hands roam all over her body. I can tell she's about to come by her breath that's going fast and by the naughty little things she whispers hoarsely into my ear. "Yes, babe...fuck me hard, fuck me rough," and "deeper, Mike, I need your dick deeper" or "I'm so close. Can you feel how close I am?" When she stops moving because she cums with a long, drawn sigh, her body trembling, her cunt clenching around my dick, I hug her tightly, pressing her down, forcing her to take even more of me and after a few fast thrusts I cum too, filling her up with my seed and I can't wait to see it drip from her pussy.
I know it sounds a bit pervy but I love to see the mess I've made and to taste our mixed juices on my tongue. She climbs down from my lap and lays down beside me with spread legs and I bend down to lick her dripping cunt clean, lapping everything up with slow, sensual licks while y/n plays with my dark curls, enjoying the sensation of my tongue between her legs.
When we are lying in my bed cuddled up at each other a few minutes later y/n kisses me tenderly. "I'll need you to read to me like this every day now." I smirk and wink at her. "With the glasses?"
"With the glasses", she giggles and her soft laughter sounds the bell for the next chapter of our intellectual stimulation.
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poptod · 3 years
Text
Will You? (Rami Malek x Reader)
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Description: Meeting Rami in the back alley behind an awards show.
Notes: ugh ive been having writers block for the first time in like two years so ive only been writing short stuff. i have a couple fics backpiled for various rami characters so thats coming up! gender neutral as usual WC: 1.5k
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Ugh.
How quickly it all became too much. You wondered, clutching your aching head, why you even came here; large parties were never your scene, public events even less so. A world-wide broadcasted movie awards event was nothing near anything you'd done before. Earlier in the day, as you were dressing and readying yourself for the evening, you stared into the mirror and wondered then, as well, what you were doing.
Maybe––probably––it had to do with the fact that one of your favorite actors' presence was assured, and you rarely ever visited New York, making this the first time you'd been in the right place at the right time to have the opportunity to do this. You steeled yourself then and you steeled yourself now, digging into your clutch bag to pull out a carton of cigarettes.
You fumbled with the cigarette as you reached back in, searching for your lighter. A frustrated grumble grew in your mouth and came out as a curse. With a harsh sigh you yanked your hand out, throwing it up into the air, and sitting with a thud on a wooden box laying by the side of a large trash bin. You rubbed your face harshly, attempting to wipe away the irritation. To no avail––you had no lighter, and your nerves were itching, teeming with aggravation that crawled like bugs beneath your skin. You needed this and the world didn't like you.
The door you'd left the building from opened once more, swinging shut with a loud clanking sound that seemed to echo in the vacant alleyway. Drops of water fell into the puddles at your feet, still present from the earlier rain, and now filled with bits of trash. The very same water almost splashed onto you as a car passed by, its' wheels revving and spinning away through a massive puddle. It must've been midnight, but assholes were still awake as well, and the city lights showed no sign of stopping.
This was why you only visited New York City.
"Here," someone with a deep, rough voice spoke, and you looked up to find a vein-filled hand balancing a blue lighter between the second and third fingers.
There weren't any active lights in the alleyway, but the puddles reflected the street lights that stood a few meters away. That was enough to recognize him when you glanced to his face.
Rami fucking Malek.
He turned almost the second you looked up at him, meaning he didn't catch the sudden, stumbling recognition that flooded your expression. Thankfully, you had the time to calm yourself before he sat down across from you on a dirty (and probably wet) stool.
"Thank you," you said, lighting your cigarette and breathing in the sweet smoke before you said anything else. "You're a lifesaver."
"No, I just have a smoking problem," he said.
You both laughed, softly, and looked away.
You took another drag.
"You're Rami Malek, aren't you?" You said through the smoke that escaped you. It was rough on your throat, but you didn't especially care anymore. Somehow, you remembered a flask of water––just not the lighter.
"Yeah," he said with another soft, bashful, chuckle.
"I like your work. Or, your style," you mumbled as you tapped the ashy end away. He might've been a star of your dreams, and mere images of him might've taken your breath away, but you would treat him like a regular person. "It's.. unique, but familiar."
"Thank you," he said, nodding, a charming grin on his face. "May I ask your name?"
"(Y/N)." You shifted in your seat as you looked down. An ounce of humor came to you once you said, "you won't recognize the name."
"No, but I'm happy to recognize it in the future," he said, tilting his head in your direction.
You broke out in a laugh and a wide, blushing grin, shaking your head. God, he looked good in a suit––all black. Silver in his lapel. His neck revealed colored veins that led up to a jawline that would surely cut you. Why was he talking to you? Why was he being nice?
"You're a charmer," you finally said through your giggling, continuing with, "do you want some?" before he could say anything.
You handed the cigarette to him and he took it, pursing his lips and letting go with a puff of smoke. Even in the hot, humid air, those clouds coalesced and drifted away just as usual.
"You're not an actor," he stated, his eyes fixed on the cigarette as he tapped the ashes away. "Not here for that, so why are you here? Just out of curiosity."
"That's... a very good question," you said with an exasperated laugh. "I'm a teacher, I don't know what I'm doing here."
"Teacher?" He repeated. "My brother's one of those. What d'you teach?"
He handed the cigarette back to you.
"Third graders," you grumbled. He sucked in a sharp breath in a wince. "I usually do first graders, but not this year."
"That's rough, I've heard those are demonic years," he said, earning a laugh from you.
"Yeah, that's a good way of putting it," you said as you doted on the cigarette. "I guess this is just the first time I've visited New York when an awards show is happening."
"How do you like the big screen life so far?"
"Not very much, but I never thought I would," you said quietly, but he still chuckled. "I... I did think about being an actor, when I was a kid. I think a lot of kids do these days, though. Actors are.. like the new Gods. You know, in ancient times people would worship idols, and that's what people call you now..." you met his gaze and couldn't tear yourself from it, "... idols. Images of something to strive for."
He nodded, his brow creased in deep thought.
"After a while the world shows you what celebrity life is really like, and you read all sorts of things, see how people change... eventually you don't really want it anymore," you said, shrugging. "Or you decide you want it, or want part of it despite the other stuff."
He nodded again but had little to say despite being a celebrity himself.
"Which was it for you?"
"Hm?"
A spell broke over his eyes and he appeared to return to normal, having not heard or comprehended your words.
"Did you become an actor because you wanted all of it, with the bad parts, or you wanted a specific part and still became an actor despite all the other things?"
"... complex question," he said after a moment, rocking his balance back and forth awkwardly as you laughed. "I wanted to become other people, transform myself into characters. I was attracted to the job. Not the other things attached to it."
"Well I'm glad you became an actor anyway," you said, relighting the cigarette with a quick drag. "That way I could meet you."
"And I could meet you, as well," he said in that same, deep voice he used when he first spoke to you.
You could do nothing but chuckle and cast your eyes down, shaking your head.
"Yeah, I guess you could," you mumbled.
He reached forward, snagging the cigarette from between your fingers. That made you look up, drawing your attention back to the subtle lines marking his face, and the glow of fire that revealed cool, green eyes behind thick lashes.
A loud wave of cheering came from inside the building, and the both of you looked back at the steel door. Still unopened.
"I should probably get inside, the cameras might notice my seat's empty," he said in a similar mumble.
The cigarette, now nothing more than a filter, dropped from his lips and fell to the ground, squashed beneath his shiny, black shoe.
"Ready?" He asked.
"Have to be," you said as you stood. "Not wasting a fifty dollar ticket on my damn social anxiety."
He chuckled and said, "I'd invite you to sit with me, but there aren't any free spots. How about..." He'd been opening the door, but he paused, causing you to misstep and halt yourself only when your chest was an inch from his. Your eyes darted up to his. "Come see me after the show. I have a '97 bottle of Montalcino at home that I think you'd enjoy."
You nearly choked on your own spit, but fortunately for you, it only came out as a cough and a clearing of the throat. 'What', almost escaped your mouth in the most astounded tone before you bit it back.
Was he propositioning you? Was this a friendly invitation? Why was, again, Rami fucking Malek asking to spend anymore time with you than he had to?
You realized a silence had spanned between you when his eyes flickered down to your lips, at which point shock fully brought you back into your body.
"Will you?" He asked hopefully.
"Yeah," you murmured. "I'd like that."
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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years
Note
Hi!
I've been reading some of your posts and I am a big fan🥰
I was wondering if its okay, maybe you could do a Loki x reader where they were best friends and denied each others feelings all the time and when Loki was brought to the TVA, he found reader there and lots of angst and fluff🥰💞😁
Have a great day😁😁💞💞🥰🥰
Nothing Gold
Relationship: Loki x Reader
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 1.9k
A/N: thank you so much for enjoying me work I am so glad that makes me so happy! thank you so much for the request. I really liked this idea and I think it came out okay - sorry the ending it a bit abrupt! thank you again :)
Masterlist
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Loki had to do a full-on, dramatic as hell, double-take while walking through the TVA library. He had come down to look for a variant file but had apparently ended up finding something else. More specifically — someone else.
You. You. You.
You, his best friend. You, the sweet girl he had a never-ending crush on. You, the one who had just gone missing one day.
Loki could never forget. It was like something wouldn’t let him.
He had invited you around the palace for breakfast before you left his chambers for the night. You two had been up late reading together. You frequently popped over, usually claiming to stay for a few hours, just enough for Loki to read to you some verses of a poetry book, but those hours got longer and longer each time.
Next thing you two knew, it was nearly morning and you needed at least a few hours of sleep in your own bed. He had walked you out, asking you to come back for breakfast in a few hours. You happily agreed, giving him a quick hug before parting. Loki didn’t want to let go. He remembered that detail very well. He wanted to pull you back in his chambers, just hold you for hours. Days. Months. Forever. But he didn’t. He let you go, watching as you made your way back to your modest home. He never realized that would be the last time he saw you.
Well, actually, it technically wasn’t. Because he was staring at you right now. You were at a table near the back of the library, head buried in some files but he could still recognize you. Could always point out that lovely, long hair and those soft, gentle hands. You were always a stark contrast against him.
Loki just watched you for a few moments, completely and utterly confused by the situation. The shock was wearing off and now question after question filled his brain. How did you end up here? What had you done? Were you okay? A million thoughts came over him but his legs had their own agenda. The next thing he knew, he was approaching your table. He almost didn’t know how he got there.
He stood opposite of your sitting form. You weren’t noticing him, apparently very invested in the file you were studying. Loki had to admit, that was quite like you. You were always one to get lost in the words, way deeper than he did.
Eventually, Loki cleared his throat, hoping that’d do something. Slowly, you lifted your head, brows furrowed in confusion as you looked at him from head to toe. You didn’t recognize him, Loki could see it in your eyes. He was just a variant turned agent to you. Something in him felt like it was stabbing his heart over and over again.
"Can I help you with something?" You hesitantly asked but your voice was still so sweet and kind, just as Loki remembered. You were far more patient and soft-spoken than he was.
He said your name like it was the greatest plead but you didn’t react. Loki didn’t know what to do then, realizing you were you but you also…weren’t. His face fell.
You were getting uncomfortable. "I-I’m sorry, I’m not sure I know who that is—,"
"You don’t?" Loki couldn’t help the hurtful gasp he let out.
"Sir, I’m sorry…" Your eyes began searching around frantically. Something was going on. You were getting scared, way past uncomfortable. You wouldn’t look at him anymore.
Loki said your name again, much forceful than the last. You jumped. You weren’t directly responding but Loki could see something in your eyes. He said your name again. Then again. Like it was the only thing he knew. Your eyes met one another intensely, hypnotically.
After maybe the sixth time, you snapped. You jumped out of your seat, breathing heavily, scared, surprised. It had all happened too fast Loki was also taken back. You two were more than just staring at each other. Your wide eyes were taking him in.
"Loki?"
He felt so relieved to hear his name just float off your lips. It was as sweet as he remembered. Like a little lullaby. The stabbing in him stopped.
Loki nodded. "It’s me."
"What…" You looked around as if you had no idea where you were. And maybe you didn’t but Loki hadn’t expected your name to just snap you out of it. This opened a lot of questions for him but he didn’t have time. He raised his hand, cutting off your words.
Loki nodded towards one of the bookshelf aisles further away from everyone. You nodded in understanding, following him down the rows.
Once you were a safe distance away, Loki wasted no time collecting you in his arms, his head buried in your shoulder. You were surprised for a moment at the gesture but then you fell into it naturally, like you had just hugged him yesterday. And really that was how it had felt. But Loki knew better. You had been gone for so long…
"Loki," you mumbled his name, your head pressed into his chest. "What is going on?"
Loki stilled. "Why don’t you tell me what you know."
You scoffed, breaking off the hug. You were a sweet one but Loki was no stranger to your tiny temper. You put distance between you two and Loki allowed it despite how much it hurt.
"What I know?" You repeated, folding your arms. "What I know is that I’m standing in a library with you." You looked around at the space, noting an actual lack of real books. "What kind of library is this anyway? How did I—,"
"Do you remember anything before you got here?"
Your gaze dropped as you studied your shoes. They were some nice black flats but Loki knew that wasn’t your style. You were not the business causal type, usually pleased with the feeling of Asgardian silk gowns.
Something was coming to you as you let out a soft gasp. "I was walking home. We-We had just finished a poem written by that Midgardian… Gosh, what was his name? Winter or something—,"
"Frost," Loki mumbled. "His last name was Frost and you enjoyed his poem about how nothing gold can stay. You found it relatable. I’ll admit, you may have been onto something."
A light had gone on within you. "You thought it was pretentious." Your gaze met Loki’s once more. "I called you a fool and laughed. Then we saw daylight breaking and… and I had to go home. I missed my bed. You wanted breakfast in a few hours. I agreed to come back."
Loki nodded, encouragingly, but your words had fallen off. "What happened next?"
You shook your head, that blank expression washed over you again. "I don’t know."
Loki let out a sigh and leaned back on the shelf. "Do you remember anything after that?"
You looked back down at your outfit. At least the pencil skirt was nice. "Yes," you admitted. "I was hired here. I report on variants to protect the sacred timeline." It sounded to Loki like you were reading a script. What the hell was going on here?
"But you don’t know how you got from Asgard to…here?"
You sighed, a bit annoyed. "How did you get here?"
The snippy temper was back. You were still you. Loki could’ve kissed you, a feeling that had come over him before but was suddenly more intense than ever. He would, he promised himself. He couldn’t leave you again without doing so.
"I had a bit of an…incident."
"Really? You? I never would’ve guessed," you said, the sarcasm on your words dripped heavily. Loki gave quite the dramatic eye roll. You let out a little giggle.
"Yes, well, never mind what got me here, I am here," he said, motioning towards nothing. "And I am assisting with the hunt of a variant."
"You’re helping them?"
Loki scoffed. "Don’t act so surprised." A beat. "I didn’t have much of a choice."
You bit your lip, trying to hold back a smile but failed miserably. Loki had missed this. If he focused really hard, it almost felt like you two were back in Asgard, lounging around, talking about nothing. Teasing one another. His heart was aching.
"What do you know about the variant?" You eventually asked.
Loki glanced away. "It’s me."
"You?"
He shrugged. "Well, a version of me. Another variant."
You slowly crossed the aisle, coming to stand right next to Loki, your shoulders pressed against one another. Loki’s breath hitched just a bit. He would never get used to this.
You asked, "Well, what have ‘you’ done?"
Loki resorted back to his witty humor. "Nothing good as you could assume."
"This mischief of two Lokis is unthinkable."
Loki let out a laugh which you followed suit with. You two were laughing over nothing in this random library in wherever this place was. He could barely understand it and you were absolutely clueless. But the moment of laughter was good, was familiar. Too bad it couldn’t last.
"I’ve missed you," Loki admitted after the laughter had faded out unceremoniously. You looked a bit surprised at the confession.
"Truly?"
He nodded.
You blushed and looked down. "I’d say I missed you too but I don’t feel like we’ve been apart. How long has it been?"
When Loki wasn’t giving an answer, you forced yourself to turn back to him. He was staring at you quite intensely. You shivered under the gaze. It was an expression you hadn’t seen before, he hadn’t allowed you to see. It was one full of love and interest and adornment.
"Too long," was all he said before his lips were on yours. Loki finally took what he had been craving and it was happening in the TVA library. The fucking TVA. Loki’s head was still spinning with worries about this whole thing but, slowly, he got lost in you. In your lips and softness. Your hands grasped his shirt as you deepened the kiss — you. You wanted more from him. And he was happy to give.
His hands caressed your sides lovingly, feeling and holding you in the way he had always dreamed. It was better than anything he could’ve conjured. It felt right and real. Good and… Too good. Too powerful.
An alarm was going off somewhere now. You hadn’t seemed to notice it, still captivated in the kiss, but Loki was aware. He forced you two apart, reluctantly. You looked at him, ready to protest, but before you could ask anything, Loki was placing a hand over your mouth.
Footsteps were approaching. They were coming towards your aisle. Whatever had happened here wasn’t good, something had gone haywire. Had he broken the timeline? Was that even possible here? Loki didn’t know but what he did know was there was an army on the hunt for them. Without thinking twice, he grabbed your hand, looking for an escape route.
"Loki," you finally were able to speak, keeping your voice hushed as you two maneuvered the maze of shelves, "what did we do?"
"We love each other."
"Love?"
Loki stopped despite there being no time to stop. "Am I wrong?"
You didn’t answer. That was all he needed. Now to only get the hell out of here. Loki couldn’t tell if his encounter with the TVA had been a blessing or a cure as he held you close to him, refusing to lose you again to whatever trap this place planned to lay.
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