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#this time when he shared his love he found love for himself in return.
grind-pantera · 2 days
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Noa x human reader maybe reader is telling him about human customs
The slow burn queen reTURNS!!!!!
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Title: Customary. Rating: K. ( Super fluffy, we love. ) Words: 4.2K+ Pairing: Implied ! Noa x Human!Reader. Summary: Noa finds the concept of kissing interesting, he knew about it, has received his fair share from primarily his mother, forehead kisses here and there, scattered like leaves in his memory, but it was never the preferred way to show affection. ** Does contain mild spoilers for Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes **
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Noa, in his time knowing you, figured that pressing for explanations left him without them. Or at least, the imposing questions startled enough that you didn't quite know how to answer. Explaining to him that kissing was indeed a way to show affection, but it also had a deeper meaning, at least to you, proved a difficult task. He’s curious about it, you could tell as he was rocking back and forth in some anticipation of your words, but in his nature, he stayed quiet and looked at you, observing your expression and your demeanor.
Drawing your bottom lip in, you chewed it in thought before releasing it, completely oblivious to Noa’s eyes watching the movement with some sort of amusement. Why Echo does that, he did not understand. He chose not to, but would remain curious and accepting if you chose to ever explain it to him. He reached up and pressed the back of his right pointer finger to his lip, savoring the sensation for a few fleeting moments before dropping the hand again as you finally found your voice, “It’s… It’s a way to uh… I don’t really know how to…”
The change in your face as you trail off trying to explain, Noa looked at the crease between your eyebrows and mimicked the expression momentarily to remind himself that it was your inquiring face. He’d seen it so frequently lately, almost taking a sickening solace in it because it meant you would talk to him, it meant you would pay attention to him. Something in the pit of his stomach, as unsettling as it was, yearned to have you by him, scent, physically, mentally. Physical… Noa muttered inside of his head and let his green gaze fall to your lap, more or less to study your hands that collapsed there.
The fidgeting of your fingers was evident, twisting and picking at your fingernails. For a split second the Ape wanted nothing more than to grab them in some feeble attempt to keep you calm and focused but he refrained. Inappropriate behavior with an Echo, he was screaming at himself and raised his hand to touch the band on his arm; a habit he found himself doing now when he needed to be grounded. The blue feathers tickled him and he closed his eyes for a split second. A reminder of who he was and who you were in comparison. Next on the list of ailments were the hard swallows and your inability to look straight at him. That he did not understand. Why not look at him? Perhaps, looking at him would help you answer! Noa would encourage answers occasionally when you were in the mood, but never forced them.
He, for a moment in time, could almost feel your heart beating, or at least, he could hear it and the pace sped up. It was a strange sensation. Whilst he knew that time didn't speed or slow down, it felt like both were happening simultaneously. Like, he had climbed to the highest point possible and intentionally let go. That feeling where you’re caught in the air. Did your heart speed up? Noa tilted his head as you came to glance over his shoulder at the tall trees that happily boarded the village, any attempt at words now ceasing as you didn't know how to explain to him what a kiss meant to you. Maybe, he mis-heard.
“It’s romantic.” Finally setting on a word, you shifted on the log you had grown to enjoy from hours of talking to Noa. It was a term sometimes forgotten, especially in the state of the world. Humans who had the ability to breed successfully often did so out of necessity, never love or romantic intentions. You thought about that. Your parents did just that, you were a product of need, not love. In fact, thinking kisses were a romantic notion has always been brushed aside, many telling you it was merely a fever dream, an unrealistic goal and you needed to get your head of the clouds to focus on the bigger picture. Humans are denoted down to mating for need, not for want, pleasure and surely not for romantic gain.
“An expression of… love.” You went on to say, preoccupying your hands by picking at the log you were sitting on. A piece of wood splintered off and a deep part of you wanted to shove it between your skin just to get yourself out of the situation. Out of having to explain. Words escaped you again when he looked at you. Swimming in green eyes for a second, you swallowed hard and forced your eyes to look elsewhere, knowing that Noa was able to inadvertently get you this… Worked up with just a look was uneasy at times, especially when the two of you were alone. Oftentimes, at least since Noa found you, he left you feeling something inexplicable. Something almost, dare you say, primal. The want to touch him, the want for his attention. No, you whispered inside of your head, it was beyond that, but it was not possible for it to ever become a reality. It… was…You were shameful to admit what it was. The thoughts racked in your mind like a vicious attack. Not even wanting anymore, it felt like a need that was drawing the two of you together like magnets. Need to be near, need to hear him, need to smell him, to… Indulge in him.
Love itself was an understanding between the two of you, it was often brought up here and there when discussing bonds, usually between families. You had gotten quite a bit out of him regarding, especially when you were introduced to both Soona and Anaya. The three shared an intensely deep bond, reminiscent of love between siblings, including pestering, annoyance, admiration and teasing. When you explained that to Noa, he concluded that your comparison was very much on the nose.
He very seldom touched based on his parents; a very obvious fresh wound he never wanted to delve into and you never had it in yourself to ever ask flat out. He explained before many times what had happened, but only because you would get a part of the story before he trailed off to say something that would throw the conversation to the side. You’d ask again a few days later getting another slice of the story and through that you put your pieces together. His father was gone… Their village burned… Many lost, but many found. They returned, rebuilding now. His mother, still here and you had the privilege of meeting once, and through their time restructuring their clan, they mourned. A custom deeply ingrained in the Apes which you had no idea about until he explained in simple terms.
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‘Missing him’, he signed to you the day you asked about his father, about the relationship. Perhaps, a form of escapism. You never knew your father as well as you wanted. ‘Many days I spend thinking how it would be different if I were stronger, more able to save…’
“You did the best you could have, Noa.” You whispered to him out of empathy. It was evident in your voice, and Noa found it impeccably interesting just how easy it was to read humans. Their faces and their voices gave away so much of their inner thoughts, and it was truly no different with you. Though, there was something about you, off putting at times, that Noa couldn’t quite pinpoint. He shook it aside often as he figured maybe you were reserved and didn't want to talk, only letting it bother him in the late nights when he found it difficult to sleep, when he was fidgeting with something to fix. You were not telling him something, there was an obvious secret.
Obvious secret that came to fruition when he recognized you cared for him beyond that of any other social relationship he had. That was this moment when it got quiet between the two of you. No words, not even a sound coming from either of you as Noa peered into your eyes, his next string of signs coming off pseudo aggressive, but his intention was to impress. He would do this with a female ape he had piqued interest in. Boast of your accomplishments. Show you are the best or the best and are able to provide comfort and security. He indirectly did this towards you, ‘I am strong now,’ His signing was slow, languid as you were still learning. You found it endearing he was able to accommodate.
‘I understand…. Things I did not. Understand more now… About…’ He gestured at you instead of signing the word for ‘Echo’. He meant it as a personal statement, but your name was left out of it to keep some sort of distance. ‘I learn more because I have you.’
He saw a small smile creep on your lips, just enough to tease him with the image of a full grin. A full expression of glee. But, it was short lived as you wrapped your arms around yourself protectively and let your eyes fall to the side, “Thanks for giving me a second chance.”
Duel meaning with that, Noa huffed to himself. He had saved you once, shortly after returning home to rebuild. You were battered, bloodied and begged. Apes from the other Valley must have gotten their hands on you, having often used Echo’s to hunt for sport and leisure. At least, that is what he figured and he never pushed you to detail the events that lead you to the Eagle Clan. It took you a long time to warm up to him, to any of the Apes, but once you did, your value skyrocketed when Noa realized the potential he had to learn about Echo’s, about their habits and culture and how it may have differed from his own. He saved you both physically and then mentally by keeping these conversations going. You knew their purpose, he explained it in quite some detail. He was taking it upon himself to learn the ways of Echo’s as that is what Caesar intended. Raka intended. Maybe even what Noa now truly intended, no longer subsiding and explaining to himself that it would benefit the clan as a whole. As long as you selfishly benefited him, Noa was satisfied.
‘Ape and Echo…” He told you with a sharp intake of breath, moving just an inch towards you to captivate your gaze once again. ‘Human.’ He didn't correct himself and you knew what he meant by the word ‘Echo’, it was a courtesy now for him to call you what you would call yourself. A human… (Name). Noa didn't dare delve into that sort of familiarity yet and instead he loosely let his eyes fall into yours, defenseless in appearance and he could see your chest rising and falling out of the bottom of his vision. Echo’s were prone to nerves, often manifesting in heavy breathing, sweating and occasionally aggressiveness though Noa had yet to see that with you.
It was a quick analysis you did with him so near to your face. The creases between the bridge of his brows, the tiredness that leaked from under his eyes, his lips partially opened to display his canines. Not actively doing anything to be intimidating, he just naturally was. There was a gruff nature to his appearance, one that was slightly mysterious but oddly inviting, you wanted to run your fingertips up the broad plain between his eyes into what appeared to be coarse fur. Just to know what it felt like, just to say he allowed you to do that. Breathing in, Noa could see your rib cage expanding and then sinking back in. You were thinking. At least, so he thought. This was the closest he’s been to you, and while your scent was evident whenever you were around, it was almost overbearing now. Intoxicating and smothering. Noa would let you drown him if you pleased.
He clarified what he meant, ‘Side by side? Possible?’ Letting your breath go, Noa turned around and paced to his right. There was no reason to be so close, he figured. No reason at all.
‘Maybe.’ Was the garnered response he got from you when he peered over his shoulder, now longing to hear your voice as you had signed your answer.
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Now, the word… Romantic… This was the first time Noa heard of this word. He understood now that it was a branch of love, but how far down did it go? Paternal? Maternal? Mates? Friends and acquaintances? No, no he thought to himself and shuffled to his feet. He took pace to the right and lightly placed his hand on his horse. Love between himself and his horse? They snorted in response, Noa dropping down to all fours and crawling to you.
You had watched his movements. He was contemplating and processing; something the two of you found yourselves doing the more frequent these conversations were. His deal was to pace, usually to the right of him. It shocked you that he had moved so fast towards you, it would only take you spreading your legs ever so slightly to allow him between them. To allow him to be as close to you as possible. But, you kept your knees together, keeping him at a distance. He sat back in front of you on his legs, eyes flicking between yours, reading the minute details on your face.
“Love between?” He signed that ever so slightly, grunting with the movement. It was fast, but you understood it enough to contemplate an answer. And there was only one, and you had hoped with it would come the end of the conversation.
“Mates.”
It was now Noa’s turn to crease his eyebrows, this time out of bitter confusion. Romance and romantic endeavors were not completely lost, now that he understood what it fully meant. As opposed to Apes before the Rise, they now had the social ability for monogamous and romantic relationships. Noa knew of nothing else in his clan. You may love and like whomever you choose, a mate for life, though of course there was the occasional talk of who would be best suited for another. Marriage was an enlightened way of living, or so Noa heard from many around him. He felt destined at times, but never found anything beyond that.
Were… you implying based on your inability to say’ romantic’ off the bat, that Apes were not capable? Apes did not understand? That is where the question and tone that left Noa came from, purely from offense and defense at the same time, “Eagle Clan…” He paused to collect his thoughts to make sure you understood what he was saying and to change your conception. Your human ignorance. You couldn’t be blamed but it was still a frustration. “Do you not think we have?”
“I---” Feeling like a child being scorned for doing something wrong, you dipped your head and looked at your fingers again. Noa was stiff next to you, shoulder blades turned in ever so gently. It wasn’t apparent from a distance, but surely this close to him, you could see the change of his stance. It left you almost breathless but you shook it aside and muttered shamefully, “You do.”
“Many generations,” Noa stood up and you found your eyes following him. His hips hit your eye line first, they were right in front of you. Narrow, but muscular. Good for climbing. His chest, broad and strong, but you suspected that as he had gotten older, it became increasingly so, to the point where you just wanted to brush your fingers against him to see how the muscles would react under your touch. Your eyes lingered for a few seconds longer on his scar, encasing his right pectoral. Then his face. He didn't appear mad, angry, which is often why he would stand up. To avoid, distract, not answer. This was different though, the way he held himself up. You couldn’t pinpoint the sensation but it left you nearly dizzy looking into his eyes, foreloned like you ate a forged mushroom that wasn’t what it appeared to be.
“My clan has been through many generations, and I have known nothing other than… Than…”
“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to offend---”
“Not offended,” Noa grumbled, touching his hand to the side of his head. His grasp was open, hand resting in a ‘C’ position as he did so, repeating the movement a few times to emphasize to you what he was thinking, “Confused why you think Apes do not understand.”
“I-I…” You struggled for some answer. You only made the assumption up based on what you were told by other humans. But, Noa questioned everything you knew. Noa himself made you question everything you knew. “I’m sorry.”
“Echo’s apologize for such useless things.,” He turned his back towards you and shuffled to the right, towards his horse but then passed it. Towards the embankment of a small stream he often visited as a child when he was in trouble. He smiled fondly at those memories. “You did not know, how would you? You are not Ape.”
Noa knew you would follow him down to the water. You were faster this time than you usually were, Noa’s ears picking up on the sound of you immediately standing up, some twigs falling under your feet and crunching from the pressure as you made haste. He was amused ever so slightly by that, the urgency he put you in. More intriguing though, was the question that spilled from your lips.
“Have you ever felt it?”
He feigned ignorance to that and questioned back, “Felt?”
“Romantic love.”
Contemplation. Noa dipped his left fingertips into the stream and let the water trail between his open digits. It felt good, relaxing and calming though inside, he felt anything but. How would he know what it felt like? Would it… Make him feel different? Put him in a stupor like he found himself with you more often than the last few meetings? Would it make him feel feral? The disgusting feeling he had deep in the pit of his stomach to smash in the face of anyone who got too near to you, especially a male. The lingering on his palms of his fingers digging tightly into his already hard skin when you got too close to him. Would it make him… Lose control? Bite your arm, bite the space between your shoulder blades, grab your hair and pull you to him, make you his in the only way that was fathomable to him during those late nights when he couldn't find sleep.
Or… Was it that sensation he got when you were looking at him, making the unsafe assumption that he would not notice? Not knowing that you were stretching out towards him silently? Ah yes, that was often his favorite thing to catch you doing. He’d preen himself at the thought when he was alone, but now he was thinking it right in front of you, your arm briefly rubbing against his own as you crouched to be next to the water with him, eyes following the movement of his hand as he dipped it further into the water.. He needed to answer before you asked again, a tendency you did when you knew he had an answer stashed away somewhere.
“I do not know.”
Fair, you thought to yourself and mimed his behavior. Your right hand dipped into the water, encasing the entire thing and cutting off right at your wrist. It was shallow, not quite a river, but with time, it surely would forge its way. You had no idea how it must have felt to them, the bonds you had with Humans were all beneficial by circumstance. Artificial at times, never natural. Apes, even now as they were before, were incredibly social. You envied that they stayed that way, you yearned to have something similar. Humans were hostile, especially towards other humans they saw as threats and you only had a place if you could help or advance in any way. Closing your eyes, you hand moved from side to side, feeling small pebbles right beneath your fingertips.
Brushing your thumb accidentally against Noa’s, you were afraid to even look at him through your peripheral. Mustering enough to do just that, your eyes slipped open and you were relieved to see that he hadn’t noticed. Or at least, he didn't react. Maybe you got lucky and he thought it was the rushing water. You stiffened regardless but didn't push your hand back or move away. Instead, you steadfastly stayed put and swirled your left hand back towards him.
“Have you,” He started, softer than he meant, knowing what just happened under the water. He reached his thumb out once more just to see. “Have you felt?”
Noa moved this time, shuffling on his feet to get into a more comfortable position. His hand paced towards yours. You knew and your heart skipped a beat. Noa was mildly passive at times, shy and reserved on the surface but passive to serve his curiosity. He’d rather sit and observe and only take action when it was needed. Was he taking action? You were unsure but may as well try… That was a lame excuse but you found yourself repeating it over and over. Following suit, you reached your thumb out. Brush. That was definitely a pebble. It was too sharp to be anything else. Brush again. Oh, a stick, you clenched your jaw. One more… One more…
One more…. “Yes.”
Thumb caressing Noa’s, you had a hard time figuring out how it felt as the motion was submerged. It was rough, sure. Calloused most likely from years upon years of climbing and holding onto rougher surfaces. Hot, especially against the cold water that flowed now around the embraced fingers. He wasn’t necessarily reciprocating, but he wasn’t pulling away either. A good sign, you soothed yourself and boldly let your pointer finger find his. Now, your hands were in the form of a triangle and Noa finally responded. You felt his pointer curl slightly, tracing the smoothness that was your skin, down, down to the palm. Nonsensically, he traced a shape there.
“How.. did it feel?”
“It feels… Confusing.”
Noa nodded at this and shut his eyes pensively, his finger still pressing into your open palm. You could so easily close it though and grasp him. How that would be perceived, you had no idea but it was at least a thought.
“Confused.” He repeated to you, only using the past tense of your adjective. Introspectively, you wondered if Noa caught the fact that you used it in the present tense but his reaction told you he didn't. “I have not seen any Echo confused. Usually, know-it-alls.”
That made you laugh audibly. Noa glanced at you in that moment, taking in the nature of your face. The lines of your smile, curl of your lips, the sun basking your skin, cheeks ever so slightly red. It was a mental picture he’d like to keep forever. He beamed at that, that he was able to garner that sort of reaction from you. He hooted out his own laughter, feeling your fingers leave his as you pulled your hand out of the water. Patting it against your thigh, water droplets seeped into your skin there and Noa felt… Envious of them for getting to peer into you deeper.
“We usually are.” You admitted without hesitation, grasping your thigh with vigor. “But… Not with this.” Noa could have sworn he saw you vaguely gesture between himself and you, but it must have been in his head as you were quick to stand next to him. You simply pushed on your thigh as leverage to get up, Echo’s has terrible balance when compared to Apes. He made up the other movements. Yes, yes, he chirped to himself. Made up.
‘Why?’ He signed silently, knowing you caught him asking that without fully looking at him. He pestered you at the beginning with a lot of ‘why’ because you were explaining human things that he didn't understand.
“I don’t… Fully understand it.” It took only a blink for Noa to stand, his hand now dripping water from the tips of his elongated fingers.
‘Thought you did,’ This time around, he used both hands to sign. ‘If you feel it, how do you not understand?’
That was a good question you found yourself longing for an answer to and you wished you could give him that answer. You tried to come to one rationally. Maybe, what you were feeling now, letting your eyes trail up Noa’s body only to rest back on his unwavering glance, was just passing and fleeting. A crush of sorts. But, often with you, those sorted themselves out. You didn't want the attachments, knowing what the world was like. You didn't want the burden of someone else to worry about when you exerted so much energy worrying about yourself and your safety.
But with Noa, especially these last few months of building a relationship outside of just Ape and Echo, his own words mind you, it was… Different. Your eyes scanned crowds to find him, your ears knew the sound of not only his voice, but his huffs and grunts, the snort that fell from his lips when he laughed, the gait of his walk. Steady and sure of himself. You enjoyed soothing afternoons in the sun with Soona and Anaya as Noa went off on a small tangent, explaining how he was going to fix something in the village to improve their lives. The excitement he had when he got on all fours to move quickly when he saw something he wanted, something he wanted to accomplish… You sunk into his eyes, almost the color of the tree leaves in the early spring.
“Love doesn’t need to be understood,” Whispering that to him, you looked over his shoulder that was eye level to you as you were both standing and tried to find the most elegant way to put your thoughts into words. Elegance though, to Noa, did not matter. You could be blunt and brash and he would still listen all the same, “Love just needs to be embraced.”
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lanafofana · 2 days
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The Faithwarden & The Archdruid
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Day THREEEEEE of HalsinTavWeek is upon us, fam! Pairing: Halsin/Tav(F) Summary: When she is away, Tav wonders if Halsin misses her as much as she misses him. Rating: Explicit. Minors DNI Warnings/Tag: Voyeurism, Mutual Masturbation, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Post Epilogue No Beta We Die Like Yonas (RIP Yonas) And an AO3 link! For all who celebrate.
If Tav had had any idea of the kind of commitment involved with holding the title of Faithwarden, she might have just killed Khaga in cold blood where she stood. The woman had certainly made it tempting enough without the added threat of being named the equivalent of a druidic mediator, judge, and oracle. 
When she said as much to Halsin the former archdruid had only given her the proudest, softest expression and assured her that she was the only druid he had ever met who was well suited to the task. Which might have just been, possibly, the least helpful thing he could have said.
The summons came from all over Faerûn and took her away from home from anywhere between a tenday to months on end. Settling disputes between groves, ousting unworthy leadership, and using her ironclad grasp of Silvanus’ teachings to guide, illuminate, and teach his servants.
Highest honor this. Under the eye of Silvanus himself that. It was godsdamned exhausting, is what it was.  
Every time her duties kept her away from home for longer than a few days her skin itched to return. To ensconce herself in their house amongst the trees, rousing from her meditation and rolling on top of her lover, listening to the chatter of nature while she walked barefoot through the forest born anew. These were the things that tugged at her mind most when found herself many miles from home. 
Frustratingly, Halsin did not seem to miss her quite as much as she did him. When she returned he greeted her warmly enough, an enthusiastic participant in their lovemaking always, but a part of Tav wondered if she was the only one left pining during their separations. 
If she was gone longer than a ten day they would exchange letters or messages through nature, sometimes managing to speak through their meditations though that was rarer. He shared news of the happenings from home, asked after her welfare, and sometimes included messages from the children under their care. All very sweet but the few times she tried to broach the subject in her letters, how she missed him and yearned for his touch, he either said something clinically empathetic about duty or, worse, didn’t address it at all. 
The lack of reciprocation of her desires began to chip away at her confidence in their bond. She began to wonder if maybe she was being selfish trying to bring it up all the time. Perhaps he considered the lust she felt in his absence a youthful fault of her own and nothing to do with him at all. 
When she takes her leave one day she mentions while he walks with her to the boundary of their home, that if it looks like she may need to stay longer she will send a letter before the tenday is out. He smiles and nods but tells her she need not trouble herself on his account and kisses her softly on the forehead. 
Walking away from him, her steps feel heavy, and the words chase themselves in circles in her mind. Hurt blooms like a wicked vine, crawling through her mind with cruel barbs that whisper silky lies that taste like truths. Keeping in contact over long distances is not necessary. If someone should miss her, they surely know how to reach her. He may as well have told her not to come home at all. 
It all boiled down to the same thing. My love does not equal your love. Once she had the thought she found it had taken root and would not be burned away. She heard it as she walked, as she lay staring at the stars, and in her troubled meditations that shattered under the weight of it. It took very little imagination to begin to hear them repeat in her mind with his voice.     The journey is long and difficult but with dark thoughts dogging her heels she pushes herself as far and as fast as she is able. The grove is surprised to see her arrive so early but readily enfold her to the circle and the reasons they called for assistance. 
Two days, one set of bruised knuckles, and a sternly worded letter to an archdruid in Amn later Tav leaves the grove in an even fouler mood than she went in. 
“Please, Faithwarden, at least stay another day. Your journey here was most perilous and long, you should take a day and refresh yourself.” 
Tav tries to put her best face forward, she really does, but it is extremely difficult after her altercation with the grove’s resident healer left her in such a seething rage the First Druid had been forced to physically hold her back from beating the woman to death. When she whirls on the young novice he flinches back and Tav feels the sharp words turn to ash on her tongue. 
She can’t do anything to rid her face of the stern expression that has decided to live there but she does try to curb her tone at the very least. She assures the poor man she was well rested enough thank you very much but must be on her way to her next destination. 
The problem was, Tav had no idea where that destination was. Should she go home? Or would it be so terrible to wander for a bit, away from where she was clearly not as wanted as she supposed. Almost as soon as the thought occurs to her she decides no. She has a stack of letters to work through, almost half of them undoubtedly more summons for her aid. 
Standing in the middle of a dusty, overgrown road she sighs. The tangle of hurt and anger giving way to sudden weariness. Was this to be her doom? Always wandering, always aiding, and never finding a notch to catch her heel and making her stop and rest. To sooth her loneliness with the fleeting, loveless passion between strangers who desire her body or her position. It turns her stomach. Inside her chest her heart feels splintered with cracks. One more blow and she will crumble. 
When she is close to Thaniel’s realm she hesitates crossing the border right away. She decides that the temporary succor of reuniting with her lover, for once, does not outweigh the turmoil inflicted by the detachment of his farewell. It hasn’t even been a full ten-day anyway, so no one will be looking for her return. She can steal in through the window in her raven form, collect her stack of correspondence, and be gone again without anyone the wiser. 
The sky is dark and silent when she begins her mission.  A new moon offers plenty of cover to flit through the dark shadows on her way to the house nestled deep in the center of Thaniel’s realm. Spying an open window she flits though and perches on a chair, cocking her head and getting a read on her surroundings. The house is quiet though; the children are all nestled tight in their beds and the druid is nowhere to be seen. 
She wonders at that for a moment, it’s unlike him to leave the children unattended overnight. Though, she concedes, he does like to wander the border in wildshape when he feels like thinking in solitude. She brushes the thought away and sheds her birdform to creep on soundless steps through the dark home. 
The letters are not in the study where she expected them to be. The desk is tidy, just how Halsin prefers, but the slot where she usually keeps her stack is empty. She rifles through the drawers but they’re simply not there at all. Huffing an irritated sigh she spends a few extra moments poking around the rest of the room but there’s nothing. 
He’s already preparing for you to leave permanently, whispers the acrid voice from before. That makes Tav stop her tracks, her heart and stomach and throat twisting so much she has to put her fist against her chest to assure herself she hasn’t been impaled by an arrow. The cracks within, quiver in expectation but she’s here on a mission, not to feel sorry for herself. She ruthlessly shoves the thought and the accompanying lance of pain from her mind. 
The kitchen is likewise tidy, and the living area where Tav is most guilty of leaving her things strewn around, “like a magpie’s nest,” Halsin had oft remarked. The words had seemed teasingly affectionate then but now, wandering the spotless house, Tav isn’t sure. 
There’s only one place left to check but at this point Tav wonders if she mightn’t just leave after all. It seems unlikely the druid would move her things there, where they had no proper place like the desk. But there is a dreadful anticipation buzzing under her skin and she realizes she can’t not look, can’t leave without seeing for herself if she has been erased from even that space. If he has packed away the odds and ends, removed the evidence of her existence. If he had truly cut her out of his life so thoroughly. 
Her hand on the doorknob, heart in her throat, Tav braces herself. When the door swings open on silent hinges, revealing their bedroom just as she remembered it before she left she lets out a sigh that feels less like relief than she thought it would. Stepping in and shutting the door behind her, her keen eyes can see little that has moved or changed in the few days she’s been gone. 
Her robe is missing from the place it usually hangs but that’s not unusual. The children were very fond of donning it for their make believe games of wizards and sorcerers. The little vanity table the druid had carved for her is littered with her trinkets and keepsakes, untouched. She spins slowly, correspondence forgotten for the moment while she looks for something. Anything to either untether the ache in her chest or banish it for good. But there’s nothing. The room is unremarkable, ordinary in every way. 
She pokes around a bit and finds her stack of letters in the drawer of her vanity. She gives the room another cursory glance but pauses when she hears a gasp. She freezes, wondering if one of the kids had a nightmare and has found her in their search for comfort but the door is shut. The room still. 
Curious, she moves as silent as a shadow towards the alcove where the bed is tucked away from sight by a large screen she brought with her from one of her travels. A very dim light comes into view, a guttering candle more ember than wick left. The view that unfolds beyond the screen however, steals her breath away. 
Halsin is naked on their bed, eyes shut tight, with one hand holding her robe to his face while the other works a fierce pace along his erection. His hand rolls over the leaking head, once, twice, smearing the leaking precum from the tip before returning to pumping his thick length. His head drops back on the pillow, his mouth dropping open as he pants, his face a rictus in concentration. He breathes in sharply, another gasp he can’t hold back while he pleasures himself, lost in his fantasy, with her robe acting as the anchor. 
She feels…giddy. The sight before her would in any other circumstance be enough to have her naked within moments and joining him but the evidence of his clear desire for her, his desperate gasps and near silent wails are the result of his desperate want of her and she…she can’t look away. Her blood runs hot but she’s frozen. 
On the bed Halsin whines, teeth clenching, hips flexing as he tries to fuck his own hand. His heavy breathing is broken by a soft murmur, a whispered litany of words she can barely make out except for one. 
“Tav.” 
The hand holding her robe clenches and he takes a deep breath through his nose, taking in her scent from the fabric and when his eyes slit open Tav feels her own breath shudder out of her. It’s hot, suddenly too hot. His expression betrays surprise, confusion but when his hand stops moving on his cock Tav’s mouth is moving before her brain can catch up.
“Don’t stop,” she commands with a voice that sounds stronger than she feels. Inside she feels brittle and if he pushes the issue she would crumple immediately but he doesn’t. He nods, chest heaving, and his hand resumes its ministrations, his nearly black eyes on hers further driving her wild with desire.
Not even sure what she’s doing anymore Tav sheds her clothes and positions herself at the foot of the bed. A possession has come upon her, moving her limbs for her while her brain is far away. Abandoning his grip on her robe he uses his other hand to squeeze his balls, his breath hitching and in response she feels herself suck in a breath sharply. When he growls, stare heavy on her, she licks her lips and drags the hot skin of her palm across her nipples, her stomach, before finally dipping between the lips of her sex, seeking the bundle of nerves that throbs for attention. 
“Tav,” he utters, breathing thready and she sways. 
She drinks up the sight of him; squirming, needy, and skin flushed with arousal. The precum welling up from his tip looks like beads of pearls before he swipes it away to join the wet slick slide of his grip pumping his sex. When his hips start to jut into his hand again her hips jerk to echo it, her fingers swirling around her clit increasing their pace to keep rhythm with his movements. 
The silent room has become a chorus of their echoing gasps, groans, and stilted breathing. The lewd wet sound as they masturbate to each other’s pleasure is obscene and Tav nearly comes apart with the force of how much she likes it. She watches with intense hunger, the flex of each muscle as he unravels under her gaze. 
“I’m–! “ He breaks off, throwing his head back, the corded muscles of his neck taunt, the column of his throat damp with sweat. 
“Y-yes!” It’s all she can manage to choke out before she’s lost to the sensation of her toes curling, jaw clenching. 
They orgasm together, the sight of his seed spurting across his hand, his stomach, his chest has her moaning and grinding her finger into her clint until she exhales an aching, guttural sob, vision exploding with stars.
She crashes to her knees on the mattress, throwing out a hand to catch herself from falling face first into the blanket while she blinks away the haze of her orgasm. There’s movement and before she’s fully inhabiting her body again his mouth is on hers, his hands pulling her into his embrace. They’re both sticky and sweaty, but it feels like coming home after being away for a decade and she throws her arms around his neck and plunges her tongue into his mouth. 
Breaking apart, still catching their breath they sit entwined, foreheads together while they come back to their senses. 
When she finally meets his gaze it’s to find it already on her, soft and warm. The ache in her chest cracks wide open and she bursts into tears. 
“My love?” Halsin’s voice is the comforting rumble of a summer thunderstorm and it only makes the tears flow more insistently. 
“I–I thought...” The words die in her throat. It’s stupid, it’s ludicrous. How could she ever have even dreamed this sweet man would do the things she had supposed. What foolishness had bewitched her? How did she let her mind come to those awful conclusions? She doesn’t have an answer and speaking the words out loud feels fraught with peril. 
Halsin doesn’t press her but cradles her head against his chest, running a hand down her back in a soothing gesture that only makes the tangled mess of her emotions a stronger torrent of tears. He rocks her, humming something slow and soft. He kisses the fevered skin of her forehead, clutching her body to his tightly, securely, until at last she feels her last sob give way to hitching sighs. 
“I think…I think I’ve been incredibly foolish,” she admits, pulling away to look at him with bloodshot eyes and a snotty nose. 
Halsin takes that in but instead of interrogating her, he thumbs away her tears gently before pressing featherlight kisses against the damp skin of her face. 
She breathes in, sucking what courage she can from the air between them and haltingly begins to explain. Halsin’s face goes through several complicated emotions as she speaks before settling on sadness. 
When she is done relaying the whole of it. How she thought he did not miss her and how it snowballed so horribly from there, he takes her face in both his hands and kisses her softly. 
“I miss you,” he begins firmly, holding her gaze. “I miss you when you are not near, whether that means you have gone to answer a summons to a far away grove, or down to the river to collect the children, or even when you are laying in this bed in a trance close enough to touch. I miss you like the land misses the rain in a drought,” he takes her hands in his and presses them to his chest. “I miss you like the winter misses the sun; the dragon misses his flight; the Tears of Selûne miss the moon when its light is extinguished and they are left to trail along until she returns. Without you by my side I feel my days grow dark and grey and spend too often looking over my shoulder for the moment you might appear and bring the light to shine on me again.”  
“But–” 
“I miss you,” interrupts Halsin urgently. “With everything that I am. Foolishly I held myself aloof in your absence because I did not wish to burden you with my own selfish suffering. You already found the duty bestowed on you an oppressive one and I did not wish to add myself to your troubles. I see now that was a mistake. One I will not commit again.” 
“I’m sorry,” says Tav, looking away. “I should have tried harder to explain what I…what I wanted, I suppose. What I needed from you.” 
Halsin smiles and nuzzles her cheek. “We each of us have learned something here today and I think we are the better for it, no?” 
“You’re very wise, archdruid,” says Tav with a small smile, the spark coming back into her eyes. “You wouldn’t be interested in becoming Faithwarden, would you?” 
Halsin laughs and tugs her into his arm again, burying his face in her neck, and stroking her hair and the bare skin of her back. “I’m afraid I’ve quite retired from druidic duties, my heart.” 
“Yeah yeah, rub it in.” She pulls back from his embrace when a thought occurs to her and she scans his wide chest in puzzlement before she spies her rolled up robe cast aside on the floor. “Halsin Silverbough did you use my robe to clean up your– “
He leans in close and snatches a kiss to cut her off. “I will wash it myself.” 
“Yes you will, that was a gift I got in Waterdeep! Silvanus protect you if I have to go back to that fetid kingdom of money plagued rats to get another one.”
He grins and snatches another kiss before rolling away and snatching the robe off the floor, backing away to the door. “I’m glad you’re home, my heart.” 
“You’re not going to be very glad if you don’t go put that in some water right now!” 
“Yes, dear,” he calls, sauntering away
“Cold water, Halsin, I’m serious!” He doesn’t respond and she trails after him in alarm. “Halsin? Are you listening?” 
“Always, my heart.”  
The End
77 notes · View notes
beomiracles · 2 days
Text
「 WATCH MY SIX 」 PART ONE
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DREAM RECALL if asked the question — you would describe Hueningkai as beautiful. Not necessarily sexy or even handsome, simply; beautiful. You think it was his beauty that attracted you to him from the start. The day he introduced himself, the day it all began. 
pairings stalker!hueningkai x afab!reader warnings stalking, harassment, mentions of severe injury, brief description of self inflicted injury, non-con photography (these warnings apply for part one)
#serene adds ✎... this is my first attempt at writing something stalker-ish but I hope it's appreciated still! any feedback is immensely appreciated :3
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The first thing you noticed about Hueningkai was how tall he was, easily towering over you in an almost intimidating manner — The second thing that caught your eye was his smile, he had an almost boyish-grin that made his eyes crinkle up in the most endearing way. Third, was the small mole on his left cheek, entrancing you as it moved when he spoke, smiled, and laughed. 
If asked the question — you would describe Hueningkai as beautiful. Not necessarily sexy or even handsome, simply; beautiful. You think it was his beauty that attracted you to him from the start. The day he introduced himself, the day it all began. 
It was your first day of college.
“Hi, I’m Hueningkai”, he introduces himself. You glanced between his friendly face and outstretched hand. You shake it, “hi, y/n”, you give a small smile which he returns with one of his own and you find your gaze lingering on his rosy lips. “First day?” he asks as he eyes your awkward stance. You nod, “that obvious?” Kai chuckles before shaking his head, “your empty bag”, he then comments and you glance down toward your very much vacant book bag. “Oh” you sheepishly chuckle and he grins, that endearing grin that you would grow to love. 
You had been eager to make friends and Hueningkai had seemed like the perfect first candidate. You find out that he’s in his third year, majoring in computer science and you listen eagerly as he shows you around campus. Kai was charismatic, and a great tour guide, making everything seem both fun and intriguing. 
“What are your plans then?” he wonders as you walk down the large hallways. “Well…” you begin as you keep your eyes on the way your feet move forward, “I’m hoping to get my degree in business.” Kai hums next to you, “business, you wanna start your own?” You shrug, “perhaps…” In truth you wished to open a small business of your own, but whenever you had shared your dream of a small cafe you had been greatly humbled, thus you decided to keep such ambitions to yourself — at least for now. 
Kai glances in your direction as the two of you continue in silence. You found that he stared at you a lot, you didn’t mind, in fact you felt almost flattered that such a beautiful man had even introduced himself, let alone offered to show you around. Upon your arrival at the student council’s office, Kai leaves your side, excusing himself by saying that he had class to attend. You thanked him for his kindness and he flashed you that smile of his  once more. 
Your first day progressed without much difficulty and you found yourself making a lot more friends than anticipated. As the last bell rang, you had formed a small group of four, and for the first time in a while; you felt hopeful for the future. Having exchanged numbers and settling on a day to all meet up outside of school, you bid farewell to your new friends as you make your way toward the subway. 
You had barely made it off campus when a familiar voice called out for you. It’s with an excited smile that you turn around to face Hueningkai as he catches up with you. “First day treating you well?” he asks and you nod, eager to begin telling him about your day as the two of you walk down the busy streets.  
You tell him about your new professors and show him your schedule. He listens with great interest as he comments on your unfairly good timetable. “Just wait until your third year”, he huffs and you giggle. Kai took most of his classes in a separate building to yours, making it difficult for you to meet up during the day, you couldn’t hide the disappointment flashing across your features at the thought. 
“I’ve made quite a few friends as well” you add as you swing your book bag in front of you cheerily. Your mind racing with scenarios in which you would introduce him to your small group. At first Kai doesn’t answer you, his silence makes you glance in his direction, the once radiant expression on his face had morphed into a gloomy one, his lips pressed into a thin line. You frown, did something happen? You could’ve sworn that he was grinning just mere seconds ago. 
“That’s nice”, he finally says in a monotone voice and you awkwardly nod. The warm summer air suddenly felt as cold as a December night. The two of you walk in silence for a few minutes, your mind plagued with ways to break it. Finally the subway comes into vision and you feel relief flooding your system. You turn to him with a small smile, “well I better…”
“Can I have your number?” 
His question shakes you off path as you blink up at him. Your number? Had the beautiful man asked you the very same question this morning your answer would have been definite. But the previous stale silence surrounding you had been more than uncomfortable, so you hesitate. Soon he grins as he tilts his head to the side, something about that small smile, makes your knees buckle and you caved. 
He saves his number on your device before handing it back to you, “same time tomorrow then, sunshine?” He gives you a small wave before leaving you by the bustling subway, you don’t even have the time to form a reply before he’s gone, vanished. 
That night you went to bed with a tingling sensation in your chest. 
Kai kept meeting you before school every morning, he walked you to class and met you after to walk you to the subway. Everyday was the same, and you quickly found yourself adapting to your new routine. Kai was easy to talk to and he listened happily to whatever topic you found yourself stumbling across. All but one. You had wished to introduce him to your friends but everytime you brought the idea forward, he would find an excuse to avoid it. 
Even whilst dropping you off at class, he would quickly excuse himself before your friends had the chance to approach. After school he would wait by the gates, a safe distance from your small group. You wondered why he was so adamant about not meeting them. 
And so as you walk to class that morning, you will yourself to bring the subject up. Clearing your throat awkwardly, you immediately garner his attention as he glances toward you, “I was thinking…maybe…you would like to join us on friday, we’re going bowling”, you ask hopefully as you keep your gaze on the floor. He walks silently beside you, an impassive expression painted across his face, seemingly unreadable. “Who’s ‘us’?” he then asks and you give a small shrug of your shoulders. “Me, Sun hee, Nari and probably Eun too”, as you list the small party the expression on Kai’s face twitches slightly. “I might be busy friday”, he then states and you let out a quiet oh. 
You thought that it was probably just an excuse to not go, yet you let it be, not wanting to pry. You liked Kai a lot, and you didn’t want to ruin things by pushing him too far. Though your friends kept asking about him, it was of course not surprising as you talked about him almost every day. You just couldn’t understand why he didn’t like them. 
That Friday you went out just like you had planned. Despite the absence of Kai you managed to have a great time. So much that you almost forgot how upset the whole situation had made you. 
“Another strike?” Eun yells as your ball hits all its targets once more. Your name on the scoreboard moves up to the top, surpassing Eun’s with ease. You give him a teasing grin as you take your seat next to Nari. After flipping you off, Eun turns to help Sun hee with her turn. 
“How long until they start dating you reckon?” Nari mutters beside you as she takes a sip of her drink. “I’d give it another two weeks”, you mumble as you watch the way Eun places his hand on Sun hee’s waist to help her get into position. “Maybe one and a half”, you then say and Nari smirks, “wanna bet?” Out of everyone you and Nari had become the closest, it happened naturally as the two of you took almost the same classes and therefore spent the majority of your days in each other’s presence. There was also a certain force that pulled you toward Nari, you admired her honesty and confident character; part of you thought that it was perhaps what you lacked. 
“Speaking of which”, she then drawls as she sets her drink down, “where’s your date?” Her words instantly bring color to your face and you shake your head, “he couldn’t make it, and he was not my date” you state to which Nari grins, “sure he wasn’t.” 
She’s silent for a moment before adding, “he’s busy often.” Biting your bottom lip, you nod, “he’s got a lot of school work”, you lie, you hate lying. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her that he probably didn’t want to meet your friends, that you had almost pleaded for him to join you at least once. “Computer science is no joke”, Nari agrees as she gazes ahead. You were sure she could see right through you, Nari was smart.  
You swallow. “Maybe next time? I’ll ask him”, you mumble and Nari nods, “you better, I want to see the guy who takes up all your attention, barely leaving any for me”, she teases as she gives your shoulder a playful push and you smile as you sip on your own drink. 
That night you got your first of what would become many messages. 
Having just got out of the shower, a towel wrapped securely around your body, you’re in the midst of drying your hair when your phone chimes with a notification. Thinking it was probably just Nari asking if you got home alright, you brush it off — though a small part of you thought, hoped, that it might’ve been Kai. 
Ever since you had brought up the question of meeting your friends he had been acting…distant. And you meant it quite literally. Whenever he walked you to class or the subway his gaze seemed far away, his thoughts seemingly occupied as he hummed and nodded along to whatever subject you rambled on about. Could it be that he had come to his senses at last? 
Finally your curiosity got the better of you as you tossed the towel used to dry your hair on your bed and walked over to your drawer, which your phone rested on top of. Upon tapping the screen you’re greeted by a single message, and it’s from…
An unknown number? 
That’s strange, sellers never left messages, and what other reason would an unknown number have for contacting you? Though the uncanny numbers on the screen were far from the most terrifying thing. It was the message itself, reading out one short sentence. 
“You looked good tonight.” 
It was strange, you had the numbers of everyone already. Who was this person? Because it certainly wasn’t any of your friends, more importantly; how did they get your number? Sun hee had admittedly become slightly drunk, but not drunk enough to give out your number to a stranger. 
“Who is this?” Your fingers hesitate over the send button as you contemplate your decision. In the end your curiosity won you over once more. You send it. 
It is immediately read. 
Your eyes widen as the three familiar dots pop up on the bright screen, indicating that the person was typing. You watch the dots move up and down for at least a minute before they vanish completely. Whatever they were typing out, they had deleted again. 
You waited that whole night for a reply, but it never came. All that was left was the small text:
Read 12:38am. 
That following week you receive yet another message. Chatter fills the large cafeteria as students crowd the many tables. Your own table is no different as your friends engage in different subjects. You found it hard to share their enthusiasm as your mind kept wandering back to the previous weekend. Kai hadn’t texted you once, and neither had he walked you to class today. Had you done something wrong? 
“Hey! Sleepyhead!”, Eun calls out as he snaps his fingers in front of your eyes, startling you. “Almost thought we lost you there”, he chuckles and you give a half-assed smile back. “What do you think about dinner at Nari’s on friday?” he asks and you nod, “sure…Friday's good.” You really didn’t feel like going. 
Eun claps his hands excitedly, “great! then it’s decided!” Immediately he drifts onto a new topic and you automatically zone out. Though a light tap to your shoulder shifts your attention to your right, “ask you friend if he can make it”, Nari whispers as she wiggles her eyebrows in a suggestive manner. 
You bite your lip as you consider her words. Truthfully, you didn’t want to invite Kai once more only to be turned down by him. Perhaps he was starting to find your persistence annoying — maybe it had been his reason for not texting you all weekend. Despite your uncertainty you give Nari a small nod and she grins. 
The familiar buzzing of your phone has you instinctively reaching for it. The unfamiliar set of numbers flashing on your screen however, causes your stomach to drop through the floor. It was the number from last week, once again the sender had only left one message, and no signature. 
“He’s quite annoying isn’t he?” 
You frown, were they referring to Eun? You glance around the crowded cafeteria, but it was seemingly impossible to make out if anyone was watching your table. How odd. The message hadn’t been very precise, it didn’t have to imply that whoever sent it was currently in the room with you; yet you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand as a shiver ran down your spine. 
These texts would continue to make an appearance throughout the following weeks. Ranging in variety; sometimes they were long, sometimes short, sometimes they targeted people you knew, sometimes they were questions.
“What did you have for breakfast today?” 
“You look pretty today.” 
“Does she ever shut up?” 
Sometimes they were outright creepy. 
“I’ve been thinking about you all day. I always do, but today was even harder for me. I miss you a lot, I wish I could see you more often. Don’t you want to see me too?” 
It had crossed your mind many times to block the number. Yet you always found yourself hesitating — was it curiosity or just stupidity? You weren’t sure. But the mystery behind the sender intrigued you greatly and you spent the vast majority of your free time wondering who it could be. Briefly you had considered Eun, but he liked Sun hee, and honestly didn’t strike you as the type to harass someone like that. Then there was the guy from your English class, you couldn’t quite remember his name but he often if not always insisted on sitting next to you; and when he didn’t, you could feel his burning gaze on you. But how would he have gotten your number? You hadn’t given it out to anyone except your friends and Kai.  
It had to be someone from your school, at least so you thought; who else would be able to study your whereabouts so closely. Besides, the sender never indicated knowing anything about your life outside. But as time passed you grew both paranoid and uncertain of your existing guesses. 
Your final straw drew to a line on the 19th of September, by now the messages had been terrorizing you for almost four weeks. But it wasn’t until now that they suddenly morphed from a mere pest to something utterly terrifying.   
It was late at night when the message was received. Curled up on your couch, your eyes mindlessly glaze over the moving screen of your Tv, the movie doing little to catch your interest. Your phone buzzes on the cushion next to you, without as much as a thought you pick it up only for it to almost immediately slip out of your hand. 
“The Conjuring? I didn’t take you for a horror enthusiast.” 
Your eyes flicker from your phone to your Tv screen, undoubtedly playing that very movie. What the fuck. But that would mean…your neck snaps in the direction of your window, nothing. Still it did little to ease the worry in your chest as you quickly got up to close all curtains and rattle your door once more.
You thoroughly checked every inch of your flat, in closets, behind old moving boxes, you even went as far as checking under your bed. The place was empty, yet you felt watched.  That’s when you decided to block the unknown number. And this time, you didn't hesitate. 
Two days passed without much noise and soon you found yourself falling back into your old routines, it was comforting — spending time with your friends and most importantly, with Kai. He had explained his absence with being out of town to visit his sick grandma, it had been an emergency but he kept on apologizing for not reaching out and promising to make it up with lunch. You felt stupid for even doubting him in the first place as you reassured him that it was all forgotten. 
“You got any plans this weekend?” he asks as you make your way to class together. “I well…I’m sort of meeting my friends to go see a movie on Saturday…” you mumble as you reach the door to your first class. Kai’s jaw clenches as he lets out a small sigh. Inside the classroom your eyes immediately find your small group of friends, Nari notices you first and waves you over as she mouths the words “is that him?”, you give her a small nod and she smirks. 
“You should come”, you then say as you turn to glance up at him. Kai’s gaze shifts from your frame to the table your friends currently occupy. His expression flashes with annoyance before his attention returns to you. “How about Sunday?” he asks and you blink in confusion. “I…I’m free Sunday, but…” — “good, I’ll see you after class.” Without another word he turns and walks off, leaving you stunned as you shift awkwardly in the doorway. 
As you take your seat amongst your friends, Nari quickly turns to you. “Well?” She tilts her head to the side as she looks at you expectantly. You shrug her off as you bring out your notebook and a few pencils, “well what?” She lets out an exasperated groan, leaning closer, “I mean, what was all that about?” You shake your head, “nothing..” It was obvious that Nari didn’t believe you, yet you were thankful that she chose not to pry further. 
Class began and the day rolled on in a most uneventful manner, that was until your last period of the day. Your professor had been rambling for the past forty minutes without as much as a break and you felt your eyelids grow heavy. Next to you, Nari had doodled all over her previous notes, now she only tapped her pen against the paper in a monotone manner. 
Your phone buzzes in your pocket, usually you would ignore it during class, but today was an exceptionally boring one. You bring the device out as your tired eyes squint down toward the screen. It’s another unknown number, you frown, you thought you blocked the last one. Your heart immediately picks up its pace as you realize that the sender had sent not one but  two messages this time. 
With trembling hands you unlock your phone as you tap on the message. It’s a…photo. You turn the brightness up as you bring your phone closer to your face, it’s a girl, she looks to be cooking something, you can’t clearly make it out, the blinds covering the window makes for a narrow view. Upon further inspection you realize that it’s…it’s you. Your heart sinks as your eyes follow the outline of your relaxed frame, blissfully unaware of the pair of eyes bestowed upon you. 
The second message only read out a single word: 
“Pretty.” 
The sound of your heart's rapid beating rings in your ears as your eyes remain glued to the screen. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the… “What’s that?” Nari wonders as she peeks over at your screen, curious about what’s got your attention. She frowns as she takes the phone from you, bringing it just as close to her face as you had. “What the fuck, is that you?” She exclaims, earning a few glances from the students around you. 
You don’t answer her as you try and will your hands to lay still against the desk. Tears threaten at the corners of your eyes as you try and comprehend the situation before you. “Babes what the fuck”, Nari mumbles and you give her a pleading glance, “please let’s leave.” 
You find a secluded spot outside, and as Nari goes through the previous messages sent by the unknown number, you lean against the wall in an attempt to calm yourself. “This is fucking insane”, she mutters as she scrolls through the 50+ messages in your inbox. “Are they talking about me?” she frowns as she shows you the screen. 
“Stuck up bitch. Only cares about herself. Why bother hanging out with her?” 
You shake your head as the first tears fall, “I don’t know…” you sniffle and your friend’s expression goes from a glaring one to a worried one. “Fuck, babes this is serious, we need to contact the police.” Shaking your head once more you sob, “what can they do? I have no clue who it could be”. 
“They know where you live for god's sake!” Nari exclaims as she runs a hand through her dark hair frustratedly. “You think I don’t get that? That I don’t get how bad this is?” you cry as you slide down against the stone wall. Nari is by your side in seconds as she wraps her arms around you in a warm embrace. “Alright, it’s okay, we’ll figure something out, I’ll stay with you, or you can stay with me, I won’t have you be alone okay?” You meekly nod as you hug her tighter, grateful for your friend. 
You text Kai to let him know that he won’t be needing to wait for you that day, that you will spend some time with Nari. Her apartment is bigger than yours, holding not one but two bedrooms. She makes your bed for you, lets you borrow her clothes and cooks dinner for the two of you. Telling you that it’s nothing when you try over and over again to help her or in any way thank her. “You would do the same for me”, she says as she hands you a bottle of soju and takes a seat next to you on the couch. 
“So, what do you reckon our next step is?” she ponders and you take a sip of your drink. “You don’t think they’ll stop, do you?” Your voice is far from hopeful as you look at her with a tormented expression. Nari shakes her head as a small pout forms on her lips, “how long has it been going on for?” 
“A month”, your voice is barely above a whisper yet your words ring out through the silent apartment. It felt almost unreal to think that the same person had pestered your life for a whole of four weeks, not giving up despite your clear disregard of their advances. How much longer would you have to endure this? And what if something dangerous happened? 
“You need to go to the police, love, what if they do something to you?” Nari mumbles, having seemingly read your thoughts as she studies your bleak expression. You knew that she was right, “alright, I will”. 
That night you lay in the guest bedroom of Nari’s flat, staring up at the dark ceiling as the minutes ticked by. No matter how much you tossed and turned you never seemed to find comfort enough to sleep. And like clockwork, your phone flashed with yet a notification, flooding the dark room in an eerie light.  
You try your best to ignore it as you flip over on your stomach, burying your face into the pillow. But as the screen turns black it is but a mere three seconds before your phone buzzes with yet another notification, followed by a third, a fourth, a fifth… 
Frowning, you sit up as you grab the small device in your hands. What the fuck, you mumble as 9+ unread messages from that same unknown number fills your screen. Hesitantly, you open them. 
“Why would you tell her about me? About us?” 
“Dirty bitch has nothing to do with it.” 
“Is that why you’re not at home? You’re with her aren’t you, that whore.” 
“You shouldn’t have done that, why did you?” 
“Are you fucking stupid?” 
“I’m sorry.” 
“You’re not stupid.” 
“She is. Good for nothing useless fucking slut.” 
“Come home again.”
“I miss you.” 
As you stare at the screen in pure disbelief, you scoff. It was one thing to harass you, but going after your friends, that was where you drew the line. In your worked up state your fingers work quickly as they type out a reply: 
“Fuck off.” 
With that you turn your phone off completely before shoving it under your bed to finally get some sleep. 
The next day you didn’t leave for college, you told yourself that you weren’t paranoid but something held you back from leaving, that thing being Nari. “They got their eyes on you in school too!” she says as she gets ready to leave, “this is the only place where you’re safe.” Inclined to disagree, because in truth you hadn’t felt safe for the past month, yet you listened to your new roommate and did as she told. 
The day moved slowly as you aimlessly wandered around Nari’s flat. You cleaned, prepared dinner and rewatched your favorite Disney movies. But as you glance at the clock it hasn’t even hit four yet. You’re in the midst of giving yourself a manicure when your phone buzzes. It was probably just Sun hee or Nari and you wait for your nail polish to dry fully before getting up to check your mobile device. 
Your stomach drops as you recognize the number on the screen, yet another picture had been sent. But this time it wasn’t you, it was Nari. Sitting in class, leaned over her desk as she wrote in her notebook, dark hair falling over her face but you knew that it was her. A few seconds later you received a second picture. It still captures your friend, though this time she’s outside, most likely heading home. Why was she alone? She usually went with Sun hee so why weren’t she with her right now? 
“Leave her alone.” Your message doesn’t go through, you frown. You send five more, none are delivered and panic slowly sets in. You frantically search for Nari in your contacts, the phone rings, once, twice, three times, but no reply. Fuck, pick up, pick up, you mumble as you press the call button once more, this time you’re sent straight to voicemail. 
The unknown number sends yet another picture, this time it’s taken from behind her, and close, too close. After that the pictures roll in like rainfall, photo after photo, all growing in intensity as Nari becomes aware of the danger about to close in on her. 
You refuse to look through all of them, skipping your way to the last one. It’s still Nari, except she looks horrible. Blood trailing from her forehead down the sides of her face as her body unconsciously lay on the ground. You let out a horrified cry as your phone slips from your hands, colliding against the wood floor with a loud thud. 
This was all your fault. 
You do not remember for how long you laid on the floor of Nari’s apartment, your loud cries filling the empty flat as your vision grew hazy. Arms burning from the way your nails dug into them, drawing blood that trickled all over your hands. 
You don’t know how he got inside or when he did, but you remembered his large arms wrapping around your shaking body as Kai pulled you to his chest. You remember his soothing words as he pried your bloody hands from your arms, you remember feeling safe in his embrace. 
As your cries turned to sobs and eventually to small sniffles, you clung to him, afraid of letting go, afraid of losing the only thing that still kept you sane. How lucky you were to have Kai. His hold on you doesn’t falter for even a second as he wipes your tear stained cheeks. You don’t have to tell him what happened because he knows, you’re relieved that he knows because you don’t think you could stomach uttering those words out loud. 
It doesn’t change the fact that it was all your fault. If you had done something sooner, if you had told the police like Nari said, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. You should never have told her, you should never have involved her, it was just like they had said. 
With a final sniffle you lift your gaze to meet Kai’s warm one, in that moment you felt as if you could trust him with anything. “I…” your voice is shaky and meek, your words getting stuck in your throat. He hugs you closer as he presses a kiss to your forehead, had it not been for your current state you probably would have blushed. “It’s going to be okay, sunshine”, he whispers against your skin and you shake your head. It wasn’t. 
“Kai, I…I think I’m being stalked.” 
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soapycheeks · 1 day
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— dinner
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he reached over to turn off the water, the sound of the running water ceasing immediately. the room fell into a brief silence, broken only by the sound of the final few droplets echoing against the tiles. he stood up to grab a large towel, its plush fibers promising to envelop your body in warmth and comfort. he returned to your side, offering the towel to you for a brief moment before gently beginning to dry your body with it.
light smile appearing your lips as you stood up in silence and letting him dry you off. "i want to eat after this." you spooked.
he nodded in response to your statement, a small smile playing on his lips. "of course, love. i'll cook something for you." the thought of preparing a meal for you brought a sense of contentment to him. taking care of you and ensuring your well-being was a source of fulfillment and satisfaction for him. as he gently ran the towel over your skin, his touch was as tender as ever, taking great care to ensure you were adequately dried.
"i want something spicy." you mention your preference, he nodded in understanding, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "spicy, you say?" he repeated softly.
he couldn't hide the hint of amusement in his voice as he added, "you truly have an unconventional appetite, love. but i'll see what i can do." his hands continued their gentle towel dry, the soft fabric caressing your skin with every motion.
"my sweet husband." you praise sincerely. the sight of you, smiling with contentment, had an immediate impact on him, filling his heart with a surge of warmth and affection. he continued to gently dry your body, his motions now infused with a newfound sense of contentment. as he finished drying your body, he leaned in to press a tender kiss on your forehead, a silent gesture of adoration.
with your body dry and wrapped in the softness of the towel, he reached for another towel nearby and began to dry your hair. his hands moved with practiced ease, the towel gently rubbing against your damp locks, absorbing the excess moisture and leaving your hair warm and fluffy. the towel absorbing the excess moisture, leaving your hair warm, fluffy, and enveloped in a cozy embrace. the simple gesture held a wealth of affection and care, a silent affirmation of his devotion.
as he finished drying your hair, he carefully hung the damp towel on a nearby rack, giving it a final shake to ensure it had sufficient airflow. "finished," he said softly, his voice a gentle whisper, tinged with contentment. he offered you the second towel, a silent invitation for you to use it to wrap yourself up in a cocoon of warmth.
“thank you so much, love. i’m gonna put a dress.” you stand on your tip toe to kiss his cheeks, makes his cheeks flushed slightly at your unexpected gesture, the warmth of your kiss lingering on his skin. the term of endearment you used, 'love,' added a special sweetness to the moment. he cleared his throat softly, trying to disguise the bashful reaction.
"you're welcome," he replied, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "take your time, love. i'll be waiting downstairs when you are ready." he took a moment to take in your presence one last time, appreciating your beauty and the bond you shared. with a final, tender smile, he turned and made his way out of the bathroom, leaving you to get dressed in privacy.
downstairs, he found himself in the kitchen, the space filled with the quiet serenity of a peaceful evening. his mind turned to the task at hand – creating a spicy dish for you. he knew of a few recipes that would accommodate your adventurous palate. he took a deep breath and began gathering ingredients, the sound of the kitchen cabinets opening filling the air.
with a bowl and chopping board in front of him, he set to work. his movements were precise and practiced, his fingers skillfully slicing and dicing the vegetables and spices. he added a pinch of chili flakes to the mix, the sight of the vibrant red flakes promising the spicy flavor you desired.
the scent of the spices filled the kitchen, creating a tantalizing aroma that mingled with the faint fragrance of the night air. john continued working, his focus solely on the dish he was crafting for you. every movement, every decision was made with the goal of creating something that would satisfy your unique taste and bring you pleasure.
the mixture came together, he added a generous amount of soy sauce and a touch of sesame oil, the flavors blending into a rich and savory concoction. he took a small taste, his tongue dancing with the explosion of flavors. satisfied with the heat level, he turned off the stove and let the dish cool slightly.
“john!” he turned his attention to the sound of your voice, his face immediately brightening when he saw you descending the stairs. the sight of you, dressed in a comfortable outfit, stirred a sense of warmth in his heart.
"you're just in time," he replied, a warm smile spreading across his lips. "i've just finished making our dinner. take a seat, love. i'll bring it over to you." he gestured towards the table where two places were already set, the spicy dish resting in the center, ready for you.
he moved with deliberate ease, carefully dishing out a portion of food onto your plate. the spicy aromas intensified as he spooned the sizzling ingredients onto the dish, the vibrant colors of the spices adding a touch of visual excitement. with practiced finesse, he placed the plate in front of you, the steam rising from the food creating a tantalizing display. the moment felt even more special, knowing that he'd taken the time and care to create a meal tailored to your tastes.
you both sat at the table, their proximity creating an intimate atmosphere as they savored the spicy flavors. the sound of cutlery against plates and the whispers of conversation filled the air, creating a domestic tranquility. "what are you doing after dinner?" your tone suggest that you want him to spend the night with you again. he lets out a subtle smile as he swallows the bite of food in his mouth. you both know exactly where this conversation is heading, it's a cycle.
"not much, i'm all yours tonight, darling. i'll take you to bed early." he says, leaning back in his seat.
you swallow a piece of chicken, then let out another small laugh before you take a sip of water. "i think we'll both be pleased with tonight's arrangement then." as you continue eat, you both exchanged glances across the table, occasionally making fleeting touches or stealing brief moments of eye contact.
you observed him across the table, your gaze traveled to the clean-shaven contours of his face. the absence of his usual stubble revealed the sharp lines of his jaw, giving him a youthful appearance that you found incredibly attractive. a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you appreciated his handsome features, the sight of his freshly shaven face a testament to his meticulous grooming routine.
you continued to eat in comfortable silence, the only sounds interrupting the peaceful atmosphere were the clinking of cutlery on plates and the occasional hum of satisfaction from you as you savored the flavors. john watched your reactions intently, a subtle smile gracing his features as he observed your enjoyment. the spicy meal seemed to awaken your senses, the warmth of the chili flakes igniting a slight flush on your cheeks.
you took your last bite, signaling the end of the meal, he pushed his empty plate aside. the contentment on your face and the satisfaction in your eyes filled him with a sense of fulfillment, knowing that he had managed to make you happy with the meal. he reached out to take your hand across the table, his fingers gently intertwining with yours in a tender gesture of affection.
softly, he brought your hand to his lips, planting a tender kiss on its back. a simple yet intimate gesture that spoke volumes. for a moment, he held your gaze, his eyes mirroring the depth of his feelings for you. "i'm glad you enjoyed the meal," he whispered, his thumb gently caressed the back of your hand.
you throw back the same smile at him. “thank you.”
“always.” he replied, stood up from his seat, collecting the plates from the table and placing them in the sink. you clearing the table, stacking the plates and utensils with efficient movements. you took a moment to collect the empty serving bowls and other kitchenware. carefully placed everything in the sink. you walk past him and gives him one last glance at him before saying, "i'll see you upstairs."
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Note
Ello ello ello! Are there any humorous fics you know that involve an exorcism? Preferably lighthearted ones =) perhaps a similar vibe to Shane and Ryan in this one video: https://youtu.be/RzPk6VHPeDY?feature=shared
I hope that made sense!! I don't know how else to describe what I'm looking for T0T
2/2: Hi hi! It's that ryan and shane anon, i think i found a better way to describe what I'm looking for? Just anything involving someone looking for paranormal happenings going on, doesn't have to be an exorcism-- but still something humorous and lighthearted If someone already requested something like this, sorry bout that
Hello. You'll be interested in this post about paranormal investigations of the bookshop, including some buzzfeed unsolved crossovers. Here are some more lighthearted paranormal fics...
Hey There, Demons by IneffableAlien (T)
Married paranormal investigators Azra and Crowley explore an abandoned asylum. It goes about as well as you might expect.
The Wrong Side of the Door by HolyCatsAndRabbits (M)
Crowley had been with this group of ghost-hunters for two years, Aziraphale for three. They’d never had a conversation that didn’t end in an argument. If they weren’t both essential (read: would work this as a side job on the weekends for low pay), Gabriel would have fired one or both of them a long time ago. So now, as Aziraphale conducted his interview, Crowley was sure to scowl at him when he looked up. Because Aziraphale was on camera and couldn’t scowl back. Aziraphale returned his focus to Deirdre with an irritated huff of breath that Crowley did not miss. “What happened that day you stayed home?” he asked her. Deirdre talked with her hands, shaping out her thoughts in a vague, fluttery way. “I started hearing things, like scraping noises. From upstairs.” She pointed, as if they’d need direction, maybe thinking they might not be able to imagine what had happened that day, not in this warm and well-lit room with the open window and the front door in sight.
paranormal activity by dykeula (G)
"Humans were to ghosts what ghosts were to humans: a delightful jest to pass the time if the radio didn’t offer any relief. Sort of like chatting to fellas from oversees. They talked funny, wore fancy hats and were to be enjoyed with caution, and in doses. Problem was when they wouldn't leave Crowley alone." --  Back in the midst of the 19th century, a certain gentleman by the name of Mr. Fell aquires the rights to a particular empty store in London that's been closed for a while - for good reason. But what challenge's a little haunting to an ethereal being, right? It's tickety boo. Crowley, on the other hand, very much objects to his newest roomie. So far his track record for scaring off potential buyers is holding at a steady 100%. But what challenge's a bookish nerd to a omnipresent malevolent spirit, right? It's tickety boo.
Ghostly Ever After by Tiny_Dragongirl (T)
They say it’s all sorted out after you are dead—but sometimes, just sometimes, things need a bit of sorting-out even after you are dead. Aziraphale Fell and Anthony J. Crowley, professional paranormal investigators, might be the perfect candidates for handling problems of the supernatural, after-life kind. Only if they would sort out their own lives while they are alive… A romantic comedy, where ghosts are gathering, tempers are flaring, and love is rising above all.
Pulling Heaven Down by Bluethenstaub, PepperPrints (M)
Anthony J. Crowley is the best paranormal investigator in London. From minor poltergeist problems to full blown exorcisms, he does it all, satisfaction guaranteed. There’s only one catch: it’s all a con. At least, that’s what Crowley thinks. A run in with a strange, ethereal competitor threatens to turn Crowley’s world upside down, and before he knows it he finds himself caught up in affairs that might be way, way above his paygrade.
YES. YES. YES. GOODBYE? by AppleSeeds (T)
Aziraphale and Crowley are independently dragged along to a paranormal investigation event in a haunted castle on Halloween. They're both extremely sceptical about the whole thing, but manage to keep themselves entertained. Self-indulgent Halloween nonsense, 10 chapters taking place between 8.45pm on 31st October and 3.15am on 1st November. Attraction will be instantaneous. Hands will be joined together for a séance. Fingers will brush against each other on the planchette of a Ouija board. A scrying mirror will be used for indiscreet ogling. Crowley will be dressed inappropriately and need warming up. You get the idea.
- Mod D
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hatelifex · 3 days
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waiting room - phoebe bridges
simon x reader
pt 1. - MASTERLIST
when you first met simon, he was quiet. not in a shy way, in an intimating way that sent shivers down your spine. he was huge, his muscles were evident underneath his clothing, and him practically towering over you. his face was stone, those eyes the only way of being able to tell what he was thinking or feeling if you dared meet them. and you did. you admired him from afar, not with interest, but rather with curiosity.
you guys traded words a few times and every time it ended, you only wished you guys could speak longer. you wanted to get to know this mysterious and strange man. there was something that made him linger on your mind. and with every word spoken, the longer he stayed engraved in your mind.
simon didn't mind the small talk. it was nice to talk to someone, to talk to someone that reminded himself of his humanity he still had. you were the glimpse of light he finally saw. at first, he was hesitant of course. he tired to not pay any mind to you. but the way your gaze lingered on him, especially when you thought he wasn't looking, a thought ran through his mind. you were that thought.
as time went by, small talk went to longer conversations filled with gentle smiles and laughter. just you and him. every time you guys spoke, it was always just you and him. you laid down with a soft smile on your face, a tender gaze in your eyes. he sat next to you, manspreading as he admired you with that same look, the tiniest smile on his. a smile that reached his eyes.
sometimes you would both just sit in silence, but you didn't mind. often, simon would find you alone, away from where everyone else was hanging out. you liked being alone. and with him, it still felt like you were alone. that connected between you both made you guys feel like one. you liked being alone with him.
over a year, you and simon grew closer, a soft relationship created between you two. it was never awkward or sexual, a genuine relationship built that you so greatly kept close to your heart.
that curiosity formed into something more. one night as you both sat in silence, you realized. as you guys shared a tender smile, a loving gentle gaze in both of your and his. you started to understand this shift in your mind, in your heart. but never did you speak it out loud or let yourself think about it too much. the truth scared you.
he found himself taking a more and more liking to you. simon enjoyed his alone time too. but he wanted that alone time with you. you ran through his thoughts, the person in his mind as he laid on his bed. as he reflected on everything, it always came back to you.
when simon realized, he feared it too. but with being with you he found himself lingering for it. it wasn't so scary thinking about it when you sat there so beautifully, admiring a monster of a man. he saw you in his present and future. but he too never dared to speak a word of the truth out loud to himself nor anyone. he didn't mind thinking about it however. he didn't mind thinking about you.
a year and a half has passed by. he was called back onto the field. when he told you, you felt a dread in your stomach. you didn't like it. but you didn't let that show on your face. you gave him a small frown, telling him to be safe. simon didn't show the disappointment on his face to your simple dry response. he only returned your energy with a nod.
you wanted him to desperately stay. you wanted to tell him about how you felt. you didn't let another word out of your mouth. he grunted as he got up, saying your final farewells. you felt alone. and suddenly, you didn't like being alone. not without him.
you watched him walk into his plane from afar along with your friends. so many men around, but only he stood out to you. through the crowd, simon only saw you. standing there, you guys shared your last gaze. neither of you guys cracked a smile, not a wave to the other.
your heart longed for him.
his heart already belonged to you.
standing there, waiting for the other person to walk away first. men rushed simon to get inside as they did, but he didn't move. he couldn't move. you inhaled before accepting it could never happen. you could never let this happen. for the better of you and him.
so you walked away.
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salllzy · 1 day
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Sal's ramblings #5 part 3
Lilith had been made as Adam's equal so was it so shocking that she had some of his behaviours? Lucifer wondered when the woman he had fallen in love with had turned into such a cold and cruel bitch, the Lilith that he knew would never do something so horrendous. But she had done and now his daughter was sobbing as Alastor's breathing became more and more shallow, Lucifer had a choice to make and quickly. He chased everyone out of the room under the guise of healing Alastor, he hadn't lied. He had just omitted some information. Lucifer wasted no time breaking the contract between Alastor and Lilith, he could hear her scream of rage as he did so. It served her right. Lucifer took a closer look at Alastor and noticed that underneath the smell of rot and infection, there was a sweet smell. Lucifer wasn't sure if it was meant to entice, but it reminded him of spiced hot chocolate. He pressed his nose into Alastor's neck and inhaled. He pulled back and looked at Alastor, while the return of his power was helping, Lucifer wanted to know what Alastor was hiding. Even now, on his deathbed, there was an elaborate charm that was depressing something. It didn't take much for him to follow the flow of energy and find that Alastor had a functioning and healthy womb inside of him. One that he had gone to great lengths to hide. It made him wonder what else was Alastor hiding, but if he wanted to find out then he needed to heal Alastor. Alastor's breathing wasn't as shallow now, but Lucifer wasn't going to fool himself into thinking that they were out of the woods just yet. "Come on you son of a bitch, what do I tell Charlie?" If he hadn't been paying so close attention to Alastor then he would have missed the minute changes in Alastor's breathing, Lucifer then knew that he had found a way to get Alastor to keep fighting. So he whispered words about how devasted Charlie would be if anything happened to him, how she would blame herself and would continue to do so. So Alastor needed to let Lucifer heal him. It worked, not as much as Lucifer hoped for, but his healing was starting to work and if Lucifer directed some of his energy to break the charms that were on Aalstor's womb? Then that was for him to know and only him. Once upon a time he and Lilith had shared many lovers together, they would take their time and pick out someone that was suitable for them both. They had made it a game, but that didn't mean that they took lovers all the time. They didn't. There might be one or two lovers every millennium or so. But he couldn't help but be grateful towards Lilith. She had given him such a fine gift and one that he had no intention of sharing.
 He had already started the divorce procedure, so long as Lilith signed the documents and didn't fight them? Then he would let her keep some of her power. But if she chose to fight it? Then he would take everything from her. He would take what he learned from their marriage and use it to woo Alastor. After all, Hell would need a new Queen.
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hwanchaesong · 2 days
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☞🍹Fifth Drink: Nursing his old fashion all night isn't something that he usually does, but he's willing to go through it to observe your beauty. 🍸
🎧: The Weeknd - Too Late
wc: 582
genre & warnings: angst, fluff if you squint, flashbacks, wedding, no happy ending you have been warned, etc etc
a/n: this is a part of The After Hours Bar series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.
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Jaemin gulped, watching the wooden door open to reveal your stunning mien.
Clad in a white, sparkly gown, holding a bouquet of white roses, the tulle veil covers your face but he doesn't need to remove it because he knows that you are gorgeous under it.
The live ensemble plays a tune that you have meticulously chosen for the wedding march.
A love song that you and your lover listen to, sharing earphones together while on a bus ride and giggling like teenagers whenever a cheesy line comes out.
The violin and piano mix together to create a beautiful harmony, and you take a deep breath before walking down the aisle covered with a red carpet.
Jaemin's heart is about to burst as you walk towards the altar, his eyes getting glossy and he thinks he needs to steal the fan that your bitchy cousin is using so he could utilize it for himself.
He thinks he needs some air because his lungs are begging for oxygen, his pharynx closing up and it feels like choking.
Every second is like waiting for a lifetime. Every step you take is like an earthquake that sends tremors down to his very core.
Oh, how he wishes he could stop time right then and there so he could stare at you more. So he could engrave your elegance and diaphanous countenance in the back of his head. Something that he can return to whenever he needs something to ground him back on earth.
He remembers when he first saw you in a fast food restaurant.
You entered like a gentle breeze, a smile so radiant that the sun should be embarrassed by your presence. You literally lit up the environment, well, at least in his point of view.
Then you came into his life like a storm. Causing chaos in his heart that it beats a tad bit faster when you're near him. His brain turns into mush when you speak to him.
You run in his mind all day, all night. You are his greatest daydream and most exquisite night dream.
Near, you are so near him and you stopped in front of him. He can now see you clearly under your veil, and he sees you mouth some words that he barely made out because of how teary he is.
'Thank you.'
Then you proceed to walk again, your father turning you in to your future husband.
Is Jaemin allowed to cry?
Is he allowed to regret the things that he should have done but never did at the end of the day?
The chances that he gave up because his wimpy ass couldn't confess to you.
He knows that you expected him to tell you his feelings, your hopeful eyes that turn into disappointment whenever he pulls back haunt him to no end.
You, his safe haven, has now been swept off by a guy who can show you what a true lion looks like.
He is happy that you have found the person that you want to spend your life with, but in turn, he is burning in hell for being in denial about the reality that he wasted.
When all he wanted was to drown in your arms, but what he got was him descending through his sorrows.
He watches you marry the man of your dreams. He sees the way you lovingly smile at your groom, eyes speaking so much louder than your vows.
Truly, he was too late.
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taglist:
@sunghoonsgfreal @yeosayang @mystverse @shakalakaboomboo
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landosjpg · 2 months
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morning runs | ln
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the one where your boyfriend finds you fast asleep in your hotel bed when he returns from his morning run.
lando norrix x fem!reader
word count: ~1.0k
warnings: smut MINORS DNI!!!!, porn without plot, somnophilia, p in v, unprotected sex (as always, take care please), slight praise
note: those pictures of him running around melbourne with his shirt off have sent me into a spiral and they're the only thing i could think about for the past two days. i could not help myself.
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no matter how many times you travelled long distances, you still weren't used to it; jet lag always kicked your ass every time you went to a race on the other side of the world with lando, messing up your sleeping schedule to the point it ended up knocking you out for the vast majority of the day.
you were trying your best to adapt to the time change, but it always took you a few days to get it right. this year, lando had decided that morning runs were the way to beat jet lag.
he had asked you to join a few times, promising it would be helpful, but the drowsiness made it impossible for you to climb out of bed that early and be productive. that's why he had left all by himself early in the morning, tucking you in and planting a soft kiss on your forehead before walking out the hotel room.
he came back only a few hours later, cheeks flushed and a thin layer of sweat covering his chest, tank top in hand. when he walked into your shared room, he found you were still in bed, in the same position he had left you earlier, sheets sprawled out barely covering your body now.
he softly smiled at the sight before him, the dim light that entered the room from the blinds tempting him to get back in bed with you. he would. righter after taking a shower, he promised himself.
however, he walked to where you were, smiling at your sleepy expression.
"i love you," he mumbled, leaning down to peck your slightly parted lips. he raised his eyebrows when he heard a small whimper leave your throat and you shifted around a little, his eyes scanning your half-naked body.
you were only weating one of his shirts. not that it was something you never did before, but something about tour drowsy state was drawing him in. he sat right beside you on the mattress, trying not to woke you up and his fingers slowly reached for your legs, stroking your bare sking tenderly with the tip of his fingers.
you sighed softly at his warm touch, stretching your body and your shirt sliding up, letting him have a look at your underwear. he moved his hand up, up, up, until his fingertips brushed against the hem of your panties. as if it was muscle memory, your legs slowly spread open for him.
and fuck, was it tempting.
it wouldn't be the first time you woke up to his fingers buried deep inside you or his head between your legs, but he knew this time you were too tired. and he would have stood up and taken a shower if you hadn't whimpered his name in your sleep the second he withdrew his hand from your core. the sweet sound that fell from your lips made him smile, fingers slowly going back to pull your underwear to the side so he could get a proper look at you.
his smirk grew wider at the sight of how wet you were, and when you stirred the second he softly pressed his thumb against your clit, he knew he couldn't just leave you yet. lazily, he got rid of his own clothes, discarding them on the floor and hovered over your body, pulling your shirt up to your hips gently, still not wanting to disturb your sleep.
"look so pretty like this, baby," he mumbled before leaning down to kiss your cheek as he slid his already hard cock between your folds, slowly pushing inside of you only a few seconds later. a low groan escaped his throat as you easily took all of him; the fact that you were so ready for him, even in your unaware state, making him smile once more.
he stilled his body as he bottomed out for a few seconds, his eyes taking in your sweet expression. he brushed a strand of your hair back as he started rolling his hips slowly, his breath getting heavier as you hummed in your sleep.
the groan he let out right next to your ear as you unconciously clenched around him woke you up, making your body squirm in confussion under him.
"s'me, baby..." he slurred, still fucking you slowly and gently. "it's just me, don't worry."
you softly whimpered when you heard your boyfriend's voice and felt his weight on you, chest pressed against yours.
"lando..." the moan that left your lips was low, and you lazily wrapped your arms around his waist, holding him close. your eyes fluttered open only to find out he was looking right back at you. through half-lidded eyes, you could see the slight flush of his cheeks, a chuckle leaving your lips before you closed them again.
"you're doing so good," he whispered, keeping his thrusts gentle, not wanting to take you out of your sleepy state. "my pretty, pretty baby," he added, bumping his nose on yours to kiss your lips before hiding his face in the crook of your neck and spreading little kisses all over your skin.
the build up was slow, whispered praises and sighs being the only sound filling the room that turned into low whimpers as soon as you felt your toes curling, your pussy tightening around your boyfriend's cock, stealing a string of curses from his lips when you felt him filling you up.
after a few seconds, he slowly rolled the two of you on the mattress, your body now on top of his with him still buried inside of you.
"go back to sleep, baby," he murmured, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your lips and pulling the bedsheets over your bodies again, his arms holding you close to his chest, keeping you warm and comfortable.
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anantaru · 5 months
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4 RULES TO SURVIVE A DIVORCE (GONE WRONG)
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— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — deciding to end your marriage with neuvillette might've been the hardest decision you've ever had to make in your life, although now, navigating through the divorce was becoming even more difficult, especially when you suddenly fail to stick to four simple rules you have both set between each other.
— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 7.8k
— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ns]fw, fem! reader, ex! husband neuvillette, divorced couple goals lmao, fluff & crack, p with plot, lovers to strangers to lovers, size kink/size difference, rough sex, unprotected sex, unresolved tension and lots of bickering, sassy comments from the both of you, it's very much giving married old couple, office sex, cumming inside
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RULE NUMBER 1: KEEP YOUR DISTANCE AT ALL TIMES
by the sixth day of waking up to an empty bed— with the left side untouched and consisting of nothing but a feeble scent of vacant perfume, neuvillette has decided that he's had enough.
which wasn't to say that he's had enough of sleep, even though that's certainly a potent route to take, yet the neuvillette the people of fontaine knew was only the one they believed they knew.
in this agonizing moment in time, he wasn't sure on how long he could act out this picture-perfect facade for the sake of his people.
they thought he was brilliant, attractive, chocolate-box pretty.
a radiant, enigmatic dragon that was quite the sight to behold, his smile reminding the flowers of spring-time to blossom to their original beauty— awakening their way of life— ah well, such lovely things to ruminate on, or when they decide to appreciate his delicateness, how uniquely he viewed the world and how otherworldly soft he chose to explore it.
in a true sense, the alluring stories the people of fontaine told each other got one single piece about him right; that neuvillette was very handsome and soft to someone's eyes.
with all ones heart, the man unquestionably had enough of the irrefutable coldness wearing down on his shoulders, sitting there alone in an empty bedroom that was previously essential to his well being, with misery written all over his face and bursting at the seams of his mental health, just enough for him to stop talking all at once.
the cold bedspread was rough against his naked body, the mattress too soft to rest on and giving in beneath his weight. wholly crestfallen did neuvillette realize that sadly, the only way to return to the life he's lived a couple months ago, return to where he should be, was to somehow learn on how to travel back in time and make things right.
which from the bottom of his heart, was impossible.
it was confusing, he has to admit, because the only factor he found somewhat common now was on how empty the bedroom was— besides his own belongings, which weren't a lot in the first place, everything else was taken by you weeks ago, beloved items that were brimful of memories stacked in cold boxes and delivered to your new home.
a predictable event, he knows, and how embarrassingly predictable it had gotten that neuvillette found himself in teething trouble, precisely the issue of his sleep schedule in this bed— one you had bought together, shared together every single day, one you had made love to each other every single night.
a slump of mindless memories waft through his psyche, resembling a wicket current of catastrophes as he ultimately came to the conclusion that the reason he was unable to sleep must be because of you— his serious issues on being unable to rest, it has to be because of you.
neuvillette's thoughts and judgments were all scattered, rummaging through the vortex of problems he had endured through the weeks, a matter much more pressing than all of the other issues put together— he continuously waits and aches, hopes and dreams, and before he notices he's slowly healing, it all comes crashing down on him again.
a recollection long gone relives itself in his mind's eye, and his previous gaze gets overturned by a new, haunting stare.
this is why he had bought the bed in the first place, he remembers it vividly now, it's because you fell in love with it right away, you liked the way it felt underneath your body, heedless of how he personally never really found it comfortable.
concealed from everyone's eyes, neuvillette was deeply saddened, but he hadn't given his mental health much thought yet, because how do you even process that your wife has left you?
how do you tell anybody that you failed as a husband?
and it's raining again? what a hassle, although now he's acquired another way to fault himself on, most importantly hurt himself, because no one deserved the bad weather other than he himself did.
for the first time after gaining the position of the iudex of fontaine, neuvillette did not want to go to work. what if someone begins to ask too many invasive questions when he visits the palais mermonia today?
if that's the immediate case that was going to happen, he begins to think about it more clearly— a person asking about his private life was definitely trespassing his boundaries, right? he could immediately do something about it and put them on trial.
by that logic of his, neuvillette cannot fathom how humiliating it was, his face clouds with a mixture of desperation and disappointment in himself, because he can already imagine the hot off the press headlines on the cover of the steambird;
ATTENTION! ATTENTION!
IUDEX OF FONTAINE LEFT STRANDED BY FORMER WIFE! ARE YOU WONDERING WHY WE THINK THIS MARRIAGE WAS DOOMED TO FAIL FROM THE START? GO FIND OUT IN THE NEW ISSUE OF THE STEAMBIRD. ©this article was written and published by journalist charlotte, do not plagiarize under any circumstances
up to the minute he was able to calm himself down, until imagining the wildfire of emotions an article like that would cause in fontaine.
all the unpleasant hours of arguing with you, even attempting to understand each other without actually coming to a conclusion on how to navigate a situation like that. aside from wanting to keep it all hidden from the outside world, leave it concealed and let the people of fontaine forget about the fact that you two had been married in the first place.
who cares, right? who gives a damn if it's husband or ex husband now? what even was the difference between a wife and an ex wife, you see that it's all the same?
ugh, who was he fooling besides himself.
the whole 'ex-wife' was aggravating him to the point where it made him physically sick.
why can't he just flip a switch and everything goes back to normal like it never happened in the first place. neuvillette wanted his normal life back, the normal life he thought you both loved and would continue to live on until your dying days.
in the end, neuvillette saw no other route around it other than to quit using it all together, maybe stop talking about you entirely.
by all means, it's not like he will talk to anybody about the divorce, maybe besides you when he has to mention it. granted that he might not talk to you about it either, because he wasn't allowed to see you right now, neither were you allowed to see him.
on how it came to that point was genuinely understandable.
after the divorce was finalized, new adjustments had to be made regarding your previous living situations, shared income and the future possibility of seeing each other.
as was anticipated, before he was able to say anything or make suggestions, you had already started to list out a couple of "important rules" that you made up, you called them rules but in the iudex mind he called them pesky little regulations.
regardless of his distaste for them, he wrote them down on a piece of paper as to not aggravate you.
well, he found it a bit bizarre, but neuvillette thought it must be a serious requirement at this point. it was his first divorce so how was he supposed to know how to navigate through one? it wasn't supposed to be easy, that's what he knew, it's very heart breaking and draining his life force.
although funnily enough, his overwhelm strengthens after you waltzed over the fourth rule of the day. that's one rule too much in his opinion.
just how many were there?
"i can't think of a better solution," you state whilst leaning your body against his desk, always facing the ground, you wouldn't want to lock gazes with him during such difficult time.
"we may even be able to talk again in the future, you know,"
but did you really want to?
it's safe to say that neuvillette would want to keep in contact, but it's certain that this would not only stress you both out in the long run, possible new partners could also get weirded out by the fact that you two were still talking and they may become jealous.
neuvillette stifles a groan, scribbling down the second rule that left your mouth before absorbing the letters on the piece of paper, "it's for the best if we keep a distance,"
to say like that was a punch in the gut would be an understatement, despite the fact that you proposed the idea in the first place.
alas and without any of you knowing before setting out those four simple rules, now— weeks after, you had found yourself in a position that made it near impossible to keep a distance from each other, or at least make eye contact in a social gathering.
for you, it has become your life in a literal sense to comb through this difficulty, for neuvillette, the possibility of seeing you in the future would secure his sanity and keep him from turning as mad as a hatter.
patience. the incurable truth was patience.
this afternoon, you have to talk for at least five minutes, with a window consisting of a maximum of ten minutes if one of you talked slowly— it's not like you want to see him, but you have to visit your ex husbands office to sign a paper regarding your previously shared finances and then you're good to go for the day again, you can leisurely exit his office and leave this failed relationship behind, exactly where it belonged in the first place, deeply stored in the past.
previously during the negotiations, neuvillette was quite persistent in leaving you the house which was located a little outside of fontaine. he was in no need of it anymore and wanted you to have it, without payments required.
between us two, it's quite obvious he wanted to get rid of it.
but so did you.
you didn't want to stay there, not now, not ever, you wouldn't sign that damned paper even if the god of contracts suddenly came knocking on your door and force you to.
all the memories in that house would eventually eat you up, they'd definitely destroy you, the gnawing grief would certainly keep you awake at night.
originally after telling your ex husband that you didn't want the house, he was able to find you a flat in the city— it's small but cute, and it had everything you needed. a cozy bedroom, a kitchen that was big enough to dance in while you're preparing dinner and an area where you can set up an office for yourself.
how convenient it was that you were previously married to the person that is in charge of fontaine.
aside from that and the fact that you were practically making neuvillette handle the most difficult parts of this— you realize how a sudden guilt was stored on your shoulders, you could barely face him after that.
the parts he needed to handle included, but were not limited to,  well, a problem slightly more irritating since it was about his life, turning approximately a hundred other problems he deals with on a daily a whole lot easier.
most of the legal process was handled by him, and only him for that matter, meaning that he had to spend additional hours on it and was barely able to move on with his life after losing you.
unlike you did.
well frankly, it's only been a couple of weeks, a month at best since you've last seen him— although it has been much longer since you've last felt him.
there really wasn't a lot going on in your life after breaking things off, it's always a grueling whirlwind of;
waking up, heading to work, walking home, eating, sleeping, repeat.
most significantly, your new bed felt a bit hard as well, it's uncomfortable and drove you insane.
you missed the one you had previously shared with neuvillette— wether it was because of the way it felt underneath you or because of its much better quality.
perhaps it was also that in the past, you had the chance of leaning against a warm body whenever you were freezing— the secret on why you found your new bed worse in comparison to your old one would certainly remain a secret forever.
it can never be answered, because you do not even know the answer yourself.
it's frequent and happens all the time— when you suddenly begin to wonder late in the evening if this was the right decision after all.
then again, a divorce wasn't necessarily something you would just forget from one day to the other— aside from that, there was a reason it happened, considering the countless events of arguing and the inability of you both to find a solid middle ground.
when you notice that a relationship drains the life out of you, or makes you cry your heart out late at night, a decision has to be made eventually, especially before it would turn your love into resentment or make your respect for the other person dwindle away.
was it really that surprising that you had your doubts?
when it comes down to it, neuvillette wasn't a bad man and you would never speak poorly of him. he was everything else but bad, which reminds you of the reason you had fallen in love with him.
but in earlier days, he had a reflection less of the way he was than of the way he wanted you to see him.
it was challenging for neuvillette to open up to you.
but hell, you're certain you won't be able to find someone who'd ever make you as happy as he did, bring you sweet tummy aches when he makes you laugh all night, or be there for you when you're sick and unable to take care of yourself.
you shake your head in embarrassment, your cheeks aflame as you're drawing several deep, steadying breaths— perhaps that's just how you're supposed to think right now.
it's not real, it cannot be.
right now, you feel like you should've never broken it off, but this marriage had been on death's door for months before the decision was finally formed— albeit from afar, no one had ever suspected anything and you're quite proud of that, in fact, both of you made sure no one would notice too much of what had been going on behind closed doors— like good spouses should always protect each other.
among other things, taking into consideration just how important his work and image was, the last outcome you wanted was for your ex husband to endure dreadful gossips about him.
neuvillette did not deserve a single negative word against him, this man deserved nothing but the finest life for himself— furthermore, after spending yet another night without sleep and thinking about your ex husband, you believed that the best for him just wasn't you.
it never has been.
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RULE NUMBER 2: NEVER SHOW UP TO EACH OTHERS HOME OR WORK, NOT EVEN ON EMERGENCIES, ESPECIALLY NOT IF YOU MISS EACH OTHER
it's a little clumsy when you first enter his office, accompanied by an unnerving type of awkwardness outstretching across the room as neuvillette meets your eyes right away— but his head drops after around two seconds and he puffs out a wretched sigh, sounding as if he's about to cry.
neuvillette thought that this should've been way easier— but before you, he has never felt real love like yours before, and he was quite certain that this type of love only happens once in life.
the melusines were also happy to see you, and you could tell that they were equally as confused as you were— they probably did not realize what was going on and nor did you really want them to know.
given that their love and admiration for neuvillette was bottomless and you wouldn't want them to suddenly harbor a disdain for you.
nevertheless, when you listened to what they were whispering about behind your back, they were talking about how you must've been away for travel or desperately needed a vacation from fontaine, or one even mentioned that you might've been sick— considering how dead and empty your eyes looked those past weeks.
then there's the "being busy with work". ah well, the excuses were surely endless and somewhat amusing, you know you're not taking care of yourself when every second a melusine talks about how tired you looked and if you needed a glass of water.
everything but a divorce was being spoken about, at least you managed to hide that well.
your gaze lifts to meet his own again when neuvillette stands up from his desk and looks at you from the opposite side of the table.
under further examination of your facial expression, he notices the slight discomfort that buzzes underneath your skin, especially around your eyes and how you could barely look at him for more than five seconds.
beneath the familiar emotion of being in the same room as him, the sharp bite of his aftershave slips down the back of your throat when you suck in a sharp, choked breath, tensing like a tree at each step forward.
why do you look like you haven't slept for days?
it cannot be, right? but he was paying attention to certain details, either relevant or not he notices how you're looking around without focus, or shift the weight of your body from left foot to right foot.
and well, his supernatural senses were sharp, immediately picking up on your heart pounding against your ribs as if trying to fulfill a thousand beats.
his fingers twitch slightly with the document in his hand as he remains in his position, waiting for you to come closer.
"this couch doesn't seem very comfortable for sleep," you point to the sofa in his office, in an attempt to break the awkward tension, your chin forwarding to the left where a neatly put blanket and a small pillow sat on top of the furniture.
just how many nights has he spent here? did he even sleep in the first place? was he taking care of himself and should you worry?
it's safe to say that his work shouldn't be in danger, but it really is killing you that you cannot ask without coming across like a desperate ex, and you're fully aware that it would also go against your rules.
but neuvillette has always taken his important occupation very serious, sometimes even to the point where he forgot about his own marriage and his wife waiting for him at home with freshly made dinner served and his most favorite beverage awaiting him on a beautifully set up table and— yikes, that escalated quickly.
you're beginning to remember one of the reasons as to why this marriage failed.
"i hope you do not mind if i ask," neuvillette stifles a groan, "but are you mentioning this out of curiosity or are you speaking down on my new sleeping area?" the hint of sarcasm in his voice was unmistakable, the underlying scorn making you wince.
and oh, "sleeping area" was a big statement for that little excuse of a couch, you're very much aware that he can barely fit all of him on it and always had troubles finding a comfortable spot when he fucked— uh, well, when you did things to each other there.
yes, you already know how it felt on there, and who could possibly know of the plentiful times you had been intimate with each other on that couch.
wait a minute, was that the reason? was he already having a rebound this soon after your divorce?
no, it cannot be.
not your neuvillette, hold on, scrap that and reverse, he wasn't your neuvillette anymore.
it's stinging and like pins and needles on your heart when you think about neuvillette fucking someone on the exact same place he made love to you— leading to the conclusion that simply looking at the couch made you sick to your stomach, instantly setting off another unpleasant lurch of nausea yet you could still muster enough strength to fix yourself for the sake of this conversation.
he wouldn't dare, okay, this is the last time you're discussing this with yourself;
what if he wanted you to see this, tell you that:
hey, look at me! i am so happy without you stupid witch, and i already have a new partner too, isn't that nice for me? there really is no need for you to be worried about me, so please sign this document and exit my office.
because i am getting my dick sucked every single day!
your heart beat turns feverish in your chest, and you quickly snap your head towards the direction of your ex husband, "isn't it obvious that i was just trying to make conversation with you?" you retort back, swatting away the dust lingering on your clothes while simultaneously coughing out in an awkward manner.
"although i really cannot imagine that this couch is somewhat comfortable to sleep on."
"i believe you must still remember on how it felt laying there yourself,"
yikes, what a great comeback from him, and he didn't mean to say it like he's spitting venom into your mouth, it's almost like he wanted to tell you that it's your loss you cannot make yourself comfortable on here, even though he wouldn't mind bending you on all fours again like he did last— okay, that's enough.
there was a half-visible smirk on his face that aggravated you, the absolute last expression you were expecting to see from him.
you roll your eyes, "trust me, i don't want to," you reply, pinching your eyebrows together while assessing your distaste of his answer.
just when did an innocent question about a dusty, old couch turn into— whatever that conversation was about.
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RULE NUMBER 3: DO NOT ASK INTIMATE QUESTIONS ABOUT EACH OTHERS PRIVATE LIFE
no, stop it, that doesn't seem right, neuvillette shouldn't treat you this way.
right now, he was experiencing his worst nightmare and the previous gears of sadness grind to a halt upon perceiving another emotion— one, that certainly scared him.
whatever the case, he wouldn't repeat his mistake, accepting any destiny the universe would bestow on him as he silently promises himself to stop any anger from slipping past the tip of his tongue.
pressing your lips together, you dig your heels into the ground, "okay, forget it, i don't have a lot of time," an unexpected force of confidence pushes you forward until you could feel the wooden desk graze across your thighs, you're so close now and the only thing keeping your bodies apart was the desk in between.
your mind was repeatedly screaming at your frame to stop moving before you actually did, "i have to be somewhere in, uh, about a couple hours, so lets finish this quickly."
what a sweet and pretty liar that you were, terribly aware that the only thing waiting for you tonight was your bed.
what a sad image, but he must not know!
"oh?" neuvillette mutters bitterly, a nervous rasp roughening his voice.
"a date, i assume?"
you would have gasped if you had any breath to spare, because you did not think this would actually work in a million years.
"ah, ah, ah," you note in a triumphant colored tone, happily waving your pointer finger from left to right.
"this, dear iudex, goes against rule number three."
content, neuvillette resumes to the document in his hand before placing it in the middle of the desk, sucking in a short, harsh breath, eyes deepening down south, just any area that wasn't you,
"of course, my apologies,"  his tone was thick, sickly sweet with barely cloaked amusement.
now he knows you're lying— he knows you so well it's almost embarrassing.
"this, is why you came for, right?"
you fumble a blistering retort that died with the hard press of teeth against your tongue, "mhm," you murmur in a low, rich tone, his casual unbothered spirit was dangerously convincing.
oh well, he must have gotten it right— and ah, you were remarkably stubborn too, resisting even the most innocent type of help coming from him as you take a random pen laying across the other side of the desk instead of the one in neuvillette's hand.
your eyes slowly scatter over the document, your brain struggling to put together the authoritative choice of words displayed in front of you.
"please elaborate on that," you press a finger on a significantly befuddling paragraph.
neuvillette muses agreeably before slanting against the desk to see for himself— and when he did you got a real good taste of his perfume suddenly invading your nostrils, playing devils advocate when you flinch back a little.
"do not worry yourself about this," his answer came so quickly you barely caught it, spelled out without a flutter of hesitation.
"everything is accounted for," he adds gently, you only need to put your name, there,"
your once-vulnerable eyes now squint stormily, "that smart mouth of yours surely has been busy, i can tell," as you place the pen on the desk before dropping both arms to your side— the man before you narrowed speechless, burning his eyes through your smug face.
"oh, just how many tricks did you pick up on your way here?" he replies sternly, accentuating the "here" as to remind you on where you currently were— as if that would somehow make him look threatening, you have been in his office plenty of times before, both naked and fully clothed, so neuvillette surely must search for another way to dominate this conversation.
priding himself in front of you with his position as iudex certainly wouldn't work on his ex wife.
"why?" you retort, "you like it?"
"indeed i do, or is that what you want me say, i assume?"
"no," a soft sigh above you echoes your own, "but i do find it weird that you'd want me to sign something without explaining it to me,"
"i did explain it to you multiple times, in fact, last time we saw each other i even asked you if you understood what i was referring to,"
an instinctive flutter of frustration, anger and exhaustion slips down his throat, "and if i recollect my memories," he coughs out and walks around his desk, so that nothing was in between you anymore.
"—you have said your time was limited." the radiating dominance of his body momentarily presses your back against the table, trapping you in the middle, caging between a wooden desk and your ex lover.
"that was weeks ago," you pause, "it's normal for most people to want a quick run through on a document of this importance,"
"it's normal?"
"it's normal," you reaffirm.
"how interesting indeed. i will keep that in mind," 
you lean your weight against the desk as to keep the eye contact with him in an attempt to stand your round, and the two of you have since lost the original purpose of this meeting.
"how could you possibly forget that?"
your voices flap over in an unmusical tune when neuvillette attempts to reply to you, although your tone was far louder than his. 
there was an awkward moment of silence that was practically slicing the air within your bodies and it's unusual on just how strong the tension had gotten in a span of two minutes. not to mention that he was so close— you honestly preferred it when his desk was keeping you both apart.
it was hard to remember anything and keep a rational mind, neuvillette realized that and found himself deeply saddened on how quick this meeting went out of hand and turned to this.
but a whispered sentence reaches your hearing and immediately calms you into a warm, relaxing state, "i apologise," he speaks finally and it surprises you, a nervous rasp shaking his voice,
"i shouldn't have talked to you in such disrespectful manner,"
your eyes widen, "no," and your cheeks grow hot with deep embarrassment, "it's really my fault, i need to apologize to you," as you force out a shaky laugh in an attempt to lighten up the mood.
"don't," neuvillette retorts back, contemplating wether he should or not but lastly deciding to rest a hand over your shoulder before he squeezes it, a smile manifesting on his lips— and it was otherworldly radiant, illuminating his complete face with deep warmth and joy.
"i always loved that witty side of yours."
he doesn't say anything for a moment, in fact, neither of you do— and the feeling of him touching you again after weeks of spending apart from each other, and despite it being just his palm on your shoulder, was instantly turning your knees into jelly.
the minute of silence felt like twenty years as neuvillette straightens his body upright, drawing a more serious touch along your shoulder before moving his palm from your collarbone until curving his hand along your cheek, holding your gaze through bright, gemstone-like eyes.
he must be crazy, he thinks— because right now, he's going against everything he has promised himself not to do, and everything you have told him not to do as well. but fuck, he hasn't touched you like this in so long, the last time was long before your divorce, and the helpless intensity of his desire horrified him.
it's when neuvillette suddenly realizes that he has never stopped loving you— not even for a minute, nor a searing second.
it was impossible to stop loving you.
"it's just that i…" your voice grows softer and quieter the more you attempt to speak and your heart thuds feverishly in your chest that you're pretty much aware he must notice it too, "everything feels terrible," you admit hesitantly and flutter your eyes up at him, your gaze fanning over the soft pink across his facial features. 
neuvillette begins to move his thumb across your cheek, "please forgive me for failing us," he whispers weakly, on the brink of tears, "for failing the only thing that made life worth living," his throat adds a slightly hoarse perception to his tone.
your eyes widen as you attempt to drop your head if not for neuvillette holding your cheek in his palm as a whirlwind of crystallines well up in your eyes, sousing your lashes.
your mind was gone, but suddenly you can think more clear— and you're not depending on the damaging daze that was originally controlling your body's autopilot feature— the grueling circle of work, sleep, repeat.
you sniffle between words, "no!" and helplessly slant into his chest as to bury your face in the fabric of his garments, "it's my fault, not yours!" continuing to cry and wail and sob your heart out.
"please don't hate me! don't resent me!"
being able to finally let go of all those stored emotions in your heart felt utterly freeing, as if an unbearable weight was lifted off your chest.
how did you two even end up in this situation? can someone, just anyone, make this agony for the both of you stop?
neuvillette shushes your cries with a soft shhh, folding his arms around your waist before smoothing one hand across your back. he decides to rest his head on top of yours, his warm breath fanning against your hair as you return his hug, pulling him deeper into you.
"i could never hate you," neuvillette sighs, "it's because i have never stopped loving you," before putting on weight around his embrace on you— perhaps as to prepare himself, because he was sure you were about to smack him due to what he just bluntly admitted to you.
while he knows it was certainly deserved as well, no excuse would make this proclamation easier even in the slightest.
but he doesn't regret it, it's over now. he just wanted to get this off his chest even if you'd most likely break off any remaining contact to him— although now he realizes that you've given him so much and he won't let you go again, not before repeatedly telling you that he loves you, loves you, loves you.
despite him believing that his efforts went to waste.
to his surprise, you did not hit him, nor did you yell at him or ask if he's hit his head somewhere— instead, you slowly move yourself from his chest, a saddened gaze meeting his own as a single tear falls from your eye.
your answer dwells a moment before you push it out, "i love you too," and whisper, "i love you so much," before you're peering at him with an expression he couldn't begin to decipher— for what's obvious, it's pure and selfless, a startled hum immediately following the last syllable that leaves your mouth when neuvillette suddenly slants his head forward to feel your lips.
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RULE NUMBER 4: DO NOT FUCK UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, PLEASE JUST DON'T DO IT, SNAP OUT OF IT, DO NOT EVEN THINK ABOUT SEX WHILE BEING IN THE SAME ROOM TOGETHER
by all means, this wasn't supposed to happen— hell, you don't even know how you got here.
but his eyes were enticing as they meet your gaze, a deep source of exuberance affecting your delirium and when he leans into you to kiss your lips, his soft lashes clash against your skin, his traces subtle enough to make you feel a faint tingle shiver downwards your heat.
against all odds, neuvillette was terrible at making this any easier for the two of you, no matter how hard you tried to pull away after the third, fourth or fifth kiss, there was no way of ending this and his tongue made sure to clash against yours at each lap— this passion, it had no resistance, it will always find a way to flourish.
nothing more, nothing less, and you've got the iudex right under a fucking spell because even when his life felt depressing after you left him, when he was living through all those weeks and tried to navigate through this divorce— now, his heart had suddenly begun to beat again, although neuvillette knew that this would go against the fourth, and most important rule you had set up.
but he cannot stop.
blood racing, nerves alight, he pushes you against the desk and helps you to get on top of it.
you wanted him to pleasure you, needed him to use his hands and devour those pretty lips of yours— whine as his mouth carvs in a smirk, so excited and sooth as silk when you wrap your arms around his neck to push his frame against your chest, so he could easily rest his entire weight on top of your own.
"you're gorgeous," he coos, "so utterly breathtaking," the thought of you craving his attention to that level was flooding him with pride, it made his skin crawl with a thousand thunderous vibrations that hit the bulge in his pants, your wet kisses and hot traces fueling the withdrawals of your soul on his skin.
the dizziest groan touches your glossed lips— and neuvillette flips over your skirt to expose your drenched panties to his hungry stare, his eyes instantly hard with lust and love, every measure of his yearning openly shown as his cock twitches uncomfortably in his clinging pants. 
you moan a dreamy sigh when the freezing office air hits your most sensitive parts, the tone leaving your lips high-pitched and desperate to feel more of him. in response, you earn a rough groan from neuvillette as he discards of his belt, dopamine shaking his soul alive, manifesting ruthlessly and tempting as you hug him tight, your erected nipples crushing against his strong chest.
you kiss along his neck with tenderness and feel the intense force of redness on his flustered cheeks, your tongue swift to blend over the quivering skin as you lash fiercely at the outline of his jaw between sharp flares of teeth tickling his face— his bewitching expression being held captive by your hand gripping his jaw hard enough to pull him towards you.
unwinding with relief, neuvillette manages to pull his tight slacks off, sighing as he drew out his hard cock and aching balls— instantly taking himself in his palm before fisting it slow in front of your hole. a thrum of arousal around the slit of his tip intensifies his need to crowd you with his shaft, and he gracefully strokes himself until you wrap your fingers around his wrist as to stop him for a second.
"i want you to make love to me," you mumble impatiently, "it's been so long," and neuvillette follows your lead in a flash and a quick nod of his head, making sure that you're sitting all comfortable on the desk and that you wouldn't hurt yourself with a random utensil on the table before he urges you to wrap your legs around his waist, your thighs squeezing his hips close.
"everything you say, i do," neuvillette reassures you, "forever,"
your broken moans and bulging eyes excite him, not to mention when you refuse to let go of him. of course, who knows what will happen after desire subsides and you're both thinking rationally again, after all, you do trust him with your life, but you're still divorced and sure you would look stunning on your second wedding with him, he would very much prefer to marry you right after fucking the broad daylight out of your figure.
gently clutching at your clothes, neuvillette slowly lifts up the fabric until you're wholly exposed for him to feast on, at last working your panties down your legs as they hit the ground, a coy smile spreading across his lips— your naked body was prancing in front of him, reminding him on how gorgeous you were, especially now as your lips hang apart and your lewd whines spill from the tip of your tongue.
your pretty nipples were erected as well, laying a familiar caress up his spine when you grind your chest against his chiseled one, encircling the exposed skin until it comes to meet in front.
"just look at you," he mutters proudly, almost to himself, his cheeks flushed as he ducks his head to hide the beginnings of a pleased smile when he kisses your shoulder. the praises set your blood raising, pumping a hotness into your pussy as you moan out his name in sweet tandem, feeling the slight trace of his cock-head shadowing your hole.
you will do so well tonight, neuvillette thinks to himself, and before he helps you keep your legs parted, he teases your entrance with a half-hearted push of his cock. you want him closer and carry on to search for his entire weight on top of you as his dripping dick slides past the tight edges of your hole, your pussy throbbing as it began to hurt a little— just a bit, and it's important to note that you weren't used to this anymore, used to him, and it's because all the pheromones are currently leaving your body that it was worth having a slight pain come by.
because you knew neuvillette will do anything in his power to make it hurt as little as possible— so you could enjoy his erection painting your walls white as you moan avidly, your pussy rubbing deliciously on him, his hand continuously massaging the delicious, soft skin of your thighs and ass.
you breathe a shaky sigh of relief when he snakes himself half-way in, a gentle breeze of your whimpers scatter across the room as neuvillette continues to push inch after inch of himself into you, your body relaxing underneath his much bigger one as you welcome him, beautiful moans and whimpers spilling from the back of your throat.
oh, how much you missed sucking in his cock like your life depended on it— and whatever issues would arise after this sinful encounter, neither of you was giving an inch of mind to those future concerns.
"there you go, that's what you need," neuvillette grunts, tensing his jaw and limiting his breathing because fuck, how are you still so fucking tight— in any other case, he would never skip foreplay with you, knowing that his size tends to be too big for your pussy, sometimes offering you help in spreading your puffy cunt apart— but he is aware that you're extra wet today, he notices how much easier it was to slide himself through your walls and collect your slick.
a slightest raw edge of desperation made his groan sound almost like a plea when your pussy clamps down on his shaft, and neuvillette moans softly as he bows down to trap your lips against his own, sliding down his tongue and lapping at yours, wet and slow, wet and slow, a low hiss of pleasure accentuating his skilled ministrations.
your pussy squeezes him gently and wets him thoroughly so that his flushed cock glistens in your walls as neuvillette allows himself to nuzzle his face against your neck, humming appreciatively when he began to move his hips, drinking in the light tears that swell in the corners of your eyes as he kisses them away.
everything was so filthy, just like that, and you're back to square one again— it's lewd enough to make his cock throb heavily between your legs when he picks up on his shallow tempo, warm and viscous grinds of his thick cock pounding you in two, wild and passionate burning through your sore hole and matching the rhythm of your hips that were catching his shoves halfway.
fuck, you missed his cock filling you up, shaking at the added stimulation when one hand squeezes your tits— not to mention how heavy it felt to have him deep in your guts again, his slicked erection pawing through your walls and searching for your pleasure spots, until you're practically writhing of overstimulation, most importantly releasing the stress you endured those past weeks.
somehow, everything felt more intense tonight— ecstatic and as if you're drugged of his cock, like you broke off the connection from clear reality each moment his tip inches down the searing spots in your cunt— your screams muffled by his strong shoulder which resulted in your noises coming out in weak cries and sobs.
"i'm— i'm so close." it's the way you said it, the way you wanted him to hear you.
neuvillette glances down on you, "yeah?" he cannot hold back anymore, your walls were too hot and too tight, his thudding erection cornering your bruised pussy as his cheeks turn cherry red— the tip of his ears shading the same color, "will never let you go again..." the following sentence comes from under his breath, a strong utterance, holding graven significance as it ignites flames deep within the pits of your core.
it's so unbelievably sexy when you tell him that he's about to make you cum, and the repeated proclamations of love were aiding your orgasm in unraveling much more intense— neuvillette parts his lips before pinching your nipples in between his digits, never faltering nor losing the steady streams of thrusts on your sex, paying no mind to your minor struggle of keeping his thick member within your sloppy hole.
the moans you sob are bringing him such satisfaction as well, particularly the ones of his name made him swallow down the assembling saliva in his mouth, leaving small kisses against your face as his adams apple bobs harshly against his throat when he grinds his hips into your heat— your slick seeping out at the corners of your hole as your beautiful legs hover over his waist to get into that ideal position.
he cups your pretty face without stopping the shallow tempo on your cunt, "i.. want you to look at me," his rhythm becoming blistering and rapid— it almost pains him to hold himself back, or the desire to cum but wanting to make you climax first. it's like his shaft runs through satin, pressing back and forth the finest silk but it's your pussy instead, so soft and taking his shape, you're made for him and he'll never let you forget.
even though he could hardly breathe because of how achingly hard he was, caged within the tight embrace of your walls as tears spring to his eyes, slip down his flaming cheeks, being wild and free and finally one with you again— in addition to the exciting sounds of wet noises of skin clashing on skin providing the last bonus puzzle pieces to make you spiral out of complete control.
a static crushes as if underwater in your ears— and neuvillette rolls his hips fast and hard, purring deeply when your legs wrap and urge him to penetrate you further. the pleasure buried in you was coiling from the base of your spine and found the candid bubble in your belly before snapping into a million pieces— your gorgeous noises finding his ears as he fucks you faster, yanking his head back and clenching his jaw as you came apart together, moaning into each others mouths and welcoming your orgasm with melting, soothing moans.
you shake your head and bury yourself into his warm embrace, earning you a smile you cannot even see when your thighs shake around his waist as he continues to pump his seed into you, the warm covers of milky whites prolonging your orgasm and intensifying it to a tenfold.
just in time too, his hot gift soothes the soreness on your walls as neuvillette deafens your body with a post-orgasm sensitivity that catches you in a trance, his cock still buried inside and never leaving your tight hole as you work to somehow get a hold of your breath again, letting you ease the stress he senses from you.
the stone-hard desk underneath you was bruising and uncomfortable, but it's bearable when you nuzzle yourself into your ex lover, or, well— current lover? soon to be fiance again?
"do not worry your pretty head," his hand lovingly brushes over your head as you fuse into his trace, "i will take care of everything," as he's allowing you to indulge in the intimate atmosphere you have missed so dearly, "i could marry you right this second, wherever you want," and with that sort of enthusiasm, you hold in every passing word with love, knowing that whatever the case— neuvillette and you will figure out a way, but you'll do it together, as a team.
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twstowo · 4 months
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Kissing Their Foreheads [Twst Third Years]
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗SYNOPSIS: You kiss their foreheads.
♡︎ Includes: Third Years
[First Years]☆[Second years]☆[Here]☆[One final forehead kiss]☆[Extras]
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⋆⋅☆Cater:
It took him a moment to realize that you had kissed his forehead, but when the realization fully processed inside his head, he hugged you. He was happy that you kissed him there since he understands the meaning behind kisses. He took a picture of both of you but, for once, didn’t share it. He would like to keep this moment for himself since he felt so content with you showing him affection.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
⋆⋅☆Trey:
You can even catch him off guard while he is cooking, and his reaction will be the same. He gives you a sweet smile and caresses your hair. He is accustomed to kissing his younger siblings' foreheads and receiving some in return, so he sees the gesture as something completely normal.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
⋆⋅☆Leona:
Leona gives you the biggest side eye ever. "What was that for, Herbivore?" Throw him in the pit! You need to explain that you just wanted to kiss his forehead, as if he didn’t know already. He will probably just go back to sleep. As you start to stand up, ready to leave him alone since he clearly didn’t seem that fazed with the kiss, he just pulls you down. Now you are stuck with a sleeping Leona. If you decide to rest and fall asleep, he gives you a forehead kiss.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
⋆⋅☆Vil:
He raises his eyebrow at you, but then laughs it off. He takes hold of your hand and kisses it while staring at you the whole time, making you turn into an embarrassed mess. He just loves that look of yours, so he gets a little bolder and slowly kisses up your arm. Once he is done, he tells you your hair looks dishevelled and suggests you come with him so that he can fix it. Will he really just fix your hair? We will never know.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
⋆⋅☆Rook:
Finds it so interesting that you just kissed his forehead. To be fair, he knows that you have been kissing everyone’s forehead, so he was just waiting painfully for his turn. Now that he finally got his kiss, he isn’t completely satisfied. Only one kiss? If you give in and give him another, he will go in for your defenceless neck and give it a kiss. You jump in your spot with the unexpected touch, and you can only watch as he laughs at your embarrassed reaction.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
⋆⋅☆Idia:
He had been hiding from you since he overheard your conversation about kissing him with Ortho. Don't get him wrong, he had been dreaming of you kissing him for the longest time ever, but the thought of it actually happening scares him away. So when you found his hiding spot, his room, and just took hold of his blushing face, you gave him a soft forehead kiss. He won't move from his spot no matter what you do, so you just decide to leave him alone. At night, he will be giggling, twirling his hair, waving his legs in the air while thinking about the kiss you gave him.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
⋆⋅☆Lilia:
Oh my, a forehead kiss? He is so glad for the sweet gesture. However, he is also aware that you have been kissing everyone’s foreheads, and he had been spending all of his time hearing a whining Malleus who had yet to receive one of those kisses from you. So he takes hold of you and just teleports you to Malleus, leaving the two of you alone.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
⋆⋅☆Malleus:
Literally runs to you as soon as he sees you, with this not suspicious at all look on his face as he tries to start a normal conversation with you. But he keeps on throwing random comments about kisses and foreheads. He keeps showing his forehead to you as if trying to convey what he wants. When you tell him that you can't reach his forehead, his eyes widen as he had never thought of it before. So he leans down, and he finally gets his well-deserved kiss. You can see how happy he is, there is this silly smile plastered on his face, and he can’t get it to go away.
@k4sumis0u
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sweetnans · 14 days
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"I just hope that one day, we both can laugh about it, when it's not in our face, won't have to dance around it. Don't drive yourself insane. It won't always be this way" - Skin. Sabrina Carpenter (quote inspo)
Bakugo knew nothing about love. Well, that's what you thought when you first met him.
At the tender age of six years old, he had this habit of pulling you by your arm to drag you around when he wanted to show you something, his little fingers leaving marks in your skin.
When you were ten years old, he started putting his feet in your way so you would stumble and sometimes kiss the floor while he parted himself from laughter.
In the beginning of teenagers' age, thirteen, he used to put his arm on top of your head to make fun of you because he was actually getting tall while you were stuck in your pre-adolescence height.
At sixteen, he ghosted you.
Yep, that's what you read. He ghosted you because he felt this funny feeling growing in his tummy every time he saw you.
Katsuki never knew about love. You thought crying in your dorm because your best friend wasn't acting like your best friend anymore.
You actually believed it.
It all began when you two got into UA. He was excited, having someone to actually compete with? You learned a lot from him (almost against your own will), but after a few years, he considered you a fair opponent.
The feeling inside his guts happened instantly. One day, both of you were returning home from classes, in the train he was behind you, protecting you from all the people that were squeezing into their spots. A baby caught your attention immediately. She was smiling at you, and you couldn't help but make her faces, smile, and bat your eyes at that little baby, gaining a few giggles in return.
Katsuki found that amusing.
He started to see you with other eyes. Helpless eyes. That feeling that woke up one day to another got him desperate, pacing around, fighting with his own thoughts in a manic state.
He had never felt that before. He knew nothing about love.
So he did what he knew best. Ignore.
But we all know him, he isn't the kind of guy who can just let something (someone in this case) go...
He watches you from afar. He has studied your antics, your movements, how you express yourself with other people, with your classmates, with the teachers. He learned about you just by observing, and now he could easily read you. That was something that kept his mind at ease. Without talking to you, at least he could know what happened in your mind by just looking at you.
A few days later, you came down from your dorm with puffy eyes. He knew something was off. No one noticed because you made a pretty good job hiding it behind makeup, but he could tell, and he was about to figure out what happened.
You were preparing your breakfast. Something quiet shitty, Bakugo thought, but it wasn't his priority in that moment.
"What's wrong?" He asked directly.
He hasn't talked to you in months, so you were impressed that he decided to share space and air with you, let alone ask something so private.
"What do you care?" No one could blame you for your response. The bastard has ignored you after spending every day with you since you both were six years old. You didn't need his sympathy.
"I care," he said, leaning in the kitchen table, looking at your eyes. They were red and swollen but beautiful too. He had forgotten how you looked like up close. The butterflies in his stomach woke up instantly, but he didn't fight them this time.
"I'm not having a good week, that's all" you explained pouring some artificial cereal on your bowl.
He took that from you and exchanged for granola and oatmeal.
"I hate seeing your face like that. After class, I'm taking you to that ice cream shop you like, " he said nonchalantly like it wasn't one of the biggest gestures that he had done since you came to UA.
You couldn't help but smile. Maybe you could fix your relationship after all.
"It's winter, Katsuki," you stated, testing boundaries.
"Yeah, as if that had stopped you before" he rolled his eyes and flicked your forehead.
In the end, after he grabbed you by the arm and tossed you all the way to the ice cream shop, you came with the conclusion that Bakugo Katsuki knew about love in his own way and you were more than ready to explore that path alongside him.
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lydiimae · 2 months
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Jealousy
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A.N: OMG I am finally starting this blog. I am so so excited. This is a Benedict Bridgerton fic ofc. The true loml. I'm still debating if I will write only Bridgerton orrrrrr others? I dunno... but for now, here is a lovely, smutty, cutie, Ben fic hehe <3
Warnings: semi-public sex, fingering, vaginal sex, drinking, dirty talk, heavy praise, talk of public heavy petting ;)
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
Minors DNI!! 18+
He sighs from beside Eloise, shifting on the picnic blanket for what has to be the millionth time. "Brother, you worry too much about that woman." She mutters with an amused glint in her eye, taking a bite of one of the strawberry tarts the family maids had made for the occasion.
A family picnic was not a rarity during the social season, especially for the Bridgerton's. What was a rarity is that Benedict had invited a woman along, an incredibly important woman at that. Y/N L/N, a daughter of an influential Viscount. The woman he found himself to be head over heels in love with.
"I am not worried. I am merely observing so our brother does not make a fool of himself in front of her." He replies with a huff, taking a sip from his flask before tucking it back into his pocket.
You were merely speaking with his brother. His happily married older brother. He has no reason to be jealous, really, but something in him still tugs painfully at the sight of you speaking to another man. It is only when Kate comes to steal her husband away that you scootch back over to him, a bright smile on your face.
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You move back over to Benedict and look up at his cute pouty expression, smiling at the warmth that blooms in your chest as a result.
You wished to get to know his family before the inevitable happens. Marriage. You know, as well as he does, that you were both going to tie the knot as soon as it was acceptable to do so. You also know that he would scoop you up and marry you tomorrow if he had his way.
At the very first ball of the season, Lady Danbury insisted that she had someone for you to meet. Someone who enjoyed painting just as much as you did. So, she took your arm and led you away from your father to the Bridgerton family. You were confused, at first, when the already happily married Viscount, Anthony, turned to greet you. And then, as if the sea was parting, he appeared. A crooked grin on his face as he moved to see you. Benedict Bridgerton, although he is a second son, stole your heart as soon as you saw him.
From then on you waited with bated breath for every dance you would share, dreamt of him in your bedroom when you got home, and thought of nothing but him in between. You shared stolen glances at every event and even snuck off to any hidden corner or garden you could find for breathless kisses and entirely impolite words that sent your mind into a whirlwind you could not explain.
Soon enough, he started inviting you on promanades and even sooner he wished for you to dine with his family. Get to know his life outside of the stuffy ballroom, to which you found yourself falling even deeper in love than you could've ever imagined.
"You're pouting, Ben." You hum, taking a sip of your lemonade with an eyebrow raised in curiosity. "Indeed. Perhaps if you were not so caught up with my brother I would not have a reason to pout, hm?" He returns, moving to take another sip from his flask.
He was jealous? Of his married brother? You sigh and move your hand over his, shaking your head slightly. You hand him a glass of lemonade. If he truly is jealous, the last thing he needs is whiskey.
"If you truly wish to hear what we were talking about, I shall tell you." You return as he takes a sip of the lemonade you gave him. He moves his hand over yours, just out of sight of his family. A possessive gesture that makes your heart flutter.
"Yes, in fact, do enlighten me." He grumbles with a sigh. "His wife, Benedict. He was talking about his lovely wife, which if you have forgotten, happens to be my dear friend." You sigh, running your thumb over his knuckles.
He looks over at you, his green eyes sweeping down to your lips, then your chest, before finally looking back up. "I care not of what you were speaking about, I should like you to speak with me when it is I who invited you." He practically growls, the tone of his voice making the place between your legs heat up and dampen instantly. A feeling that only happened with him, something he had explained as both desire and arousal.
"You know that I-" You begin, but are cut off by him pulling you to your feet. The glasses of lemonade are now completely forgotten. "Mother, I should like to promenade with Lady Y/N." He fibs.
What he would really like to do is rip the skirt of your dress open, spread your legs wide, and plunge his cock so deep inside of your soaked cunt that you forget everything else. He wants to paint your insides with his seed right here, in front of the whole ton, so that every man can get a glimpse of who you truly belong to.
"Of course, dear. We shall not keep you." Violet replies with a smile before delving back into conversation with Eloise, who also looks up with a confused expression but quickly rolls her eyes and continues to speak to her mother.
You shoot him a questioning look to which he just raises an eyebrow and offers his arm. You take it and he begins to lead you away from the picnic canopies that many families have set up to dine under.
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"Where are we going?" You question after a moment, realizing that you are not following the path around the lake but rather the path to the carriages.
He stops and tugs you behind a tree, pushing you up against the trunk. The bark bites into the little exposed skin the back of your dress grants you and your cunt flutters when you see his expression.
Desire is different for men, he taught you. You can see it in the way his trousers tighten at the front and in the way his eyes haze over. His hands move to your waist and he bends down, pressing kisses all the way up your neck until he reaches your ear.
"Agree to marry me and I shall show you." He whispers, biting the soft flesh beneath your ear causing you to shiver and whine. He grins and licks over the tender skin, soothing the sting.
"You already know very well that I would say yes to any proposal you give me." You breathe, leaning your head back as your eyes flutter shut. His hand skates over your stomach, running up the smooth fabric of your dress until he meets your breast. He cups one and swipes his thumb over your hardened nipple through the fabric.
He pulls away, swiping the saliva off his bottom lip with his thumb before picking you up. You squeal and he chuckles, paying the driver of his carriage off before tucking you inside. He closes the door and the curtains on the window, darkness enclosing the both of you.
"Benedict." You whisper as he lays you back on the velvety bench. "Hush, my love. I shall not do anything before asking I swear it." The title makes your heart almost burst out of your chest. He dips down once more, pressing his lips to yours briefly.
You pull him back down before he gets very far, chasing one of those open-mouthed kisses he gave you at the last ball. He groans, his tongue swiping over yours. He grins over your lips at the sound that escapes, moving his hands to yours where they rest on his chest before breaking the kiss.
"Ben please." You whine, wanting him to continue so desperately. He only smiles, taking off your gloves. "You must have patience, my sweet girl. I am going to ravish you in due time." He assures, pressing soft kisses from your palm all the way up to your shoulder as he takes off his gloves as well.
He reaches your neck, to which he takes a deep breath. Taking in your scent of lavender and citrus, making him groan as it always does. "Do you remember when I taught you to ride my thigh?" He whispers, running his tongue down to your collarbone, nipping the skin.
The memory makes you flood your underwear. You remember well, how could you not? He had lead you to the garden at one of Lady Danbury's balls and sat you down on his lap on the edge of the fountain. He hiked up your skirt and led your hips back and forth until something inside of you snapped so hard you saw stars and stained his trousers. That is where he taught you about his arousal, about yours.
"Yes." You breathe, your eyes fluttering shut as one of his hands moves under your skirt. His slender fingers skating teasingly up your thigh. "Good girl." He praises. He cups your cunt without warning and you cry out, your hips canting.
"Fuck. You are absolutely drenched." He whispers, relishing in the moans he draws from your body just from keeping a hand over your cunt. "And I told you about sex, do you remember that darling?" He murmurs, watching your eyes flutter.
He slowly pushes your skirt up so he can slide off your panties. He tucks them into his pocket, smiling to himself. "Yesss." You moan as the air hits your bare sex. "You told me it happens when we get married." You whisper between whines as his hand comes back, his fingers curling into your pubic hair.
"Such a good listener. So good for me." He praises, sliding two of his fingers along your drenched slit before finding your clit with expert touch. He rubs a slow circle on your button and you moan loudly, throwing your head back. "Now, when a man has honor he waits to take a woman's innocence. But my honor disappeared when I saw you with my brother," You try and protest but he pinches your clit and you cry out before you can get so much as a whisper out.
"So I will take you now. In this damn carriage." He growls, moving his free hand to your hips to hold you down. You whine when his fingers move down. "Fuck you are perfect," He breathes. "I'm going to slide one of my fingers inside now, darling, alright?" He murmurs, the switch from possessive to sweet sending your mind reeling. So overwhelmed, so mindless Just how he likes you.
You nod tentatively, your heart rate spiking which he picks up on. He shifts so he is over you, and kisses the crown of your head. "I'll go slow, hm? Nice and slow. All you need to do is pat my arm twice and I'll stop." He assures, calming your heart. You nod and nuzzle his neck.
He slowly plunges a long finger into your weeping cunt and you whine at the invasion. "Good girl, fuck you are so tight." You gasp and writhe as he curls his finger, the feeling sending a shock straight to your clit. He slowly adds another finger and you moan loudly, your eyes rolling back.
"Ben... so good. Feels...." You cry out when his fingers curl into a spot that sends waves of pleasure through you. He grins and begins to rock his fingers, drawing heavenly noises from your soaked cunt. The carriage filled with the sound of your moans and the squelching of your pussy.
He licks a stripe up your neck, beginning to suck as he rocks his fingers. You curl a hand in his thick curls and tug, your hips desperately trying to move against the palm of his hand.
He kisses your jaw, and then your chin, before finally capturing your lips. His tongue immediately sliding past your swollen lips and tangling with yours. You moan into his mouth as his thumb presses down on your swollen clit, moving clockwise as he rocks his fingers into your body.
He breaks the kiss and pulls out his fingers, much to your dismay, before unbuttoning his trousers. "Benedict... why did you stop? It felt so very nice..." You whine, grinding on nothing to try and gain some sort of feeling.
He groans at the sight, bending down and pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek. "My harlot of a fiancee. So needy for something she does not even know the half of." He praises as he slowly frees his cock, the sight along with his filthy words making you gasp.
He pulls back and strokes himself with the help of your delicious wetness, before looking back at your sweet face. All flushed and wide-eyed. He moves his free hand to your chin, running his thumb over your bottom lip.
"It will not fit, Benny." You whisper, suddenly frightened. His eyes soften and he moves down pressing a swift kiss to your lips. "It will, my love. We will go slow, I promise. Remember what I told you, two pats on my arm and we will stop." He hums, peppering your face with kisses which causes you to giggle and calm a bit. "Perhaps one pat for apprehension, hm?" He murmurs with a smile, pulling back. You nod.
"Good girl." He hums. He leans in and runs his length through your soaked folds drawing moans from the both of you. "Fuck. God, I love you." He grunts and you smile, draping your arms over your eyes to cover your blush. "I love you too, Benedict." You whisper back.
He slowly pushes into your body, throwing his head back at how tight your pretty pussy is. You cry out at the invasion, your hands shooting down to grasp at the edges of the carriage bench. The feeling is a strange mix of pain and something different. A tart taste on your tongue paired with a tingly feeling in your already hot womb. "Fucking hell." He groans before tucking his face in the crook of your neck, stopping halfway so you can adjust.
You whine and wrap your arms around his neck after a moment. "P-Please..... more. I need more, Benedict." You gasp after the pain subsides. God, he almost comes right there. He wants you like this all the time, mindless for his cock. Begging him to fuck you.
"Good fucking girl, Y/N." He grunts before bottoming out inside of you. You moan and toss your head back into the seat cushion and he groans at the feeling. "You feel so good, my love. So ripe, so wet. God, so very tight just for me." He praises.
He begins to move slowly, the slap of thighs meeting thighs filling the carriage. The feeling is so foreign but fuck you never want it to stop. Moans and whines slip past your lips before you can even begin to try and stop them, and you cry out as he speeds up. The noises he is drawing from your body would embarrass you if you didn't adore the way he feels inside of you to the point that you can think of nothing else. You wish to be like this as much as you can, full to the brim with his cock.
"Benedict." You moan and he stalls, gritting his teeth. "Never ever stop moaning my name, you vixen. God, I am a lucky man. The luckiest man in the world." He praises you as he begins to slam into you.
You grip his coat so hard you are surprised the velvety fabric hasn't torn. You cry out when his thumb finds your clit, the feeling sending you up to the clouds. "Come for me, my love." He grunts from above you with a slight slap on your thigh. That sends you over, your vision going white as you scream his name.
He thrusts a few more times before pulling out and pumping himself. He releases with a groan onto your stocking-covered thigh before collapsing on top of you.
After a moment he lifts his head to look at you, brushing your fallen hair out of your face. You smile, almost drunkenly, as you look at him. "That was heavenly." You whisper and he smirks, pressing a kiss to your lips.
"Just wait until we are married. I cannot wait to fill you with my seed and see you plump with my child." He murmurs. resting his head back on your shoulder. Your hand absentmindedly finds his hair, running through his messy curls.
"We have to go back." You whisper to which he shakes his head. "Not yet. I paid off the driver. We have as much time to rest as we wish, dearest." He hums, his eyes closed. You grin and close yours as well, slowly dozing off with him.
You are the luckiest woman in the world.
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sluttywoozi · 1 month
Text
April Shower | jww x f!reader
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Wonwoo meets a lot of people through his career as a travel photographer. Not one of them has ever made him want to stay in one place, until he met you.
Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~12.0k Pairing: jww x f!reader | Genre: romance, meet cute, smut, love at first sight
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Story Warnings: alcohol and food mention
Smut Warnings: masturbation mention, dirty talk, dom!wonwoo, bigdick!wonwoo, wonwoo’s cold hands, size kink, light thigh slapping, fingering, oral reader rec., overstimulation, slight dumbification, squirting, sexual health/safety talk, unprotected sex (don’t do it), cumming on tits
Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina, like half a foot shorter than wonwoo, wap, has a cycle to track
AN: written for my bestie @sluttywonwoo’s birthday! kaili, the light you bring to my life is immeasurable and i’m so lucky i’ve gotten to grow with you over the past 7 years 💖
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Wonwoo draws in a deep, tremulous breath as he raises the camera to his bespectacled eye, wishing not for the first time that he was anywhere but the city of love. 
This is the second proposal he’s photographed today, the fifth this week, and while he’s always thought himself to be someone who doesn’t mind love, he’s starting to grow a bit… weary. 
His hotel room is obviously meant for two, as were many of the pastas and desserts he’s ordered so far. Everywhere he looks, there are people kissing or hugging or holding hands, their ages ranging from teens in puppy love to folks in their golden years shuffling down the street arm in arm, supporting each other as they have for decades. 
He’s been working as a travel writer for five years, been single just as long, but this is the first time he’s ever found himself feeling lonely. He’s usually restless, never wanting to settle in one place, and he’s almost always solo, reluctant to give himself to someone who might want to keep him. 
Lately, he’s felt a bit differently. Perhaps he’s getting old, outgrowing his bachelor lifestyle. He finds himself wanting to plant roots where before he was nearly offended by the notion of digging any deeper than surface level. 
There’s just something about Verona that begs to be shared, to be experienced with someone else. Maybe it’s the romantic music flowing from the restaurants he passes, maybe it’s the fact that he seems to be the sole single person in this city. Regardless of the cause, he actually feels alone, for the first time in years. 
It’s not a feeling he enjoys, or one he’s familiar with, and as he traverses the cobblestone streets, he almost wishes he was holding someone’s hand instead of the camera he’s carried for most of his life. 
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Wonwoo swears out loud when he feels the first drop of rain. He checked the forecast twice this morning, knowing he would be exploring an area a few miles from his hotel and that he wouldn’t be able to return to grab or drop anything off. 
With the weather appearing to be clear and sunny all day, he left his umbrella in his room and headed out to catch his taxi. 
He more than regrets that now, the rain starting to pour and his white button down beginning to soak through. He at least brought his water resistant backpack so for now, his camera is safe, but spending the rest of the day in sodden clothes sounds like actual hell. 
He looks up and down the street frantically, finding only personal residences, not a single shop in sight. 
Until he looks closer and realizes the building at the end of the row has a sign. He can’t read it from this far away, even with his glasses, but the hope is enough to propel him forward. 
He darts down the street, splashing through puddles and swearing again as he feels water permeate his socks. The store comes into view, the sign becoming clearer and clearer the closer he gets. 
Storie d’Amore, it reads. Love stories, of course. He shouldn’t have expected anything else from the city of love. 
“It’s open, thank fuck,” Wonwoo murmurs as he wrenches the door open and steps inside, his clothes dripping all over the hardwood floors. 
He feels terrible tracking rainwater into this store, but he had no other choice. His water resistant bag is only resistant for so long, and his camera is far too valuable to risk. 
He glances around the small room, looking for the owner so he can apologize and instead finding shelves upon shelves of books. He walks slowly, squelches following each step, and reads over the spines. 
He’s shocked to find novels in all kinds of languages, some he recognizes and speaks and some he doesn’t. He’s relatively fluent in five thanks to his years of language classes and traveling, and he has to resist picking up a book in each of the ones he knows. 
He reaches the end of the first shelf, gasping at the large paned window he finds and gasping even louder at the black, tailless cat lounging on the ledge. 
The cat pays him little to no mind, lazily peering at him over their shoulder before curling into a small ball. They blink their big peridot eyes a few times and let out a heavy sigh, settling into sleep faster than Wonwoo could ever hope to. 
Enchanted, he swings his bag around to his front, digging through and pulling out his camera as quietly as possible. 
Even with the mid-April shower, the light coming in through the window illuminates the subtle white notes in the cat’s fur, giving them a glow he begs his camera to capture. 
He crouches until he’s eye level with the cat, holding his breath as he brings the viewfinder up to his eye and presses down the shutter button. 
The cat doesn’t stir, too deep in slumber to register the quiet click. He takes a few more pictures, trying different angles and light settings until he feels he’s gotten every possible combination. 
Maybe it’s stupid, but Wonwoo is more excited to share these photos than nearly any others he’s ever taken. 
Which is why he balks and falls flat on his ass when he hears, “Anubis is a model, you’ll owe us royalties for those.” 
Eyes wide, he looks around wildly to find the source of the words. There’s no one in sight, the store seemingly empty except for him and Anubis. 
“Up here,” the voice calls out, drawing his eye and making his mouth drop open when he finally notices a spiral staircase leading up to a small loft. 
He doesn’t know how he didn’t see it before. He must have been too busy staring at the cat to really take in the rest of the store, and as you slowly step down, he can’t tell if you’re amused or annoyed. What he can tell is that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, and that he suddenly wants to ask if you believe in love at first sight. 
“I can give you royalties! Please don’t make me delete them,” he pleads, far less embarrassed than he should be by the fact that he’s practically on his knees begging a pretty stranger to let him keep photos he took. 
You reach the landing and make your way toward him, your face unreadable. He’s surprised when you break into a sweet smile and hold your hand out to him. He hugs the camera close to his chest in response, making you roll your eyes and grab his free hand. 
The warmth of your touch is a shock to his system, but he holds back the shiver that wants to roll down his spine as you lean back and tug. Still confused, he lets you help him up, feeling self conscious in his damp clothes. 
He stands a little straighter when he realizes he’s over half a foot taller than you, the height difference giving him back some of his confidence. He’s not sure it should, especially with the unimpressed look you level at him when you set eyes on the trail he tracked through your store. 
“I’m so sorry, I can clean it up if you give me supplies,” he offers, fully serious and almost hoping you’ll say yes just so he can assuage his guilt. 
“These floors have seen worse,” you shrug, leaning down to pet Anubis, and Wonwoo has no idea what that means but he’s not about to ask. He introduces himself instead, shaking the hand still held by yours and repeating your name when you offer it. 
He’s only slightly jealous when you pull away and hook your hands under the cat’s body to draw him into your arms, though whom he’s jealous of, he doesn’t know. 
He would love to be holding the cat, but he has a sneaking suspicion he’d also love to be held by you. 
Your hand was so warm, and so soft, and the rest of you looks just as warm and soft, if not more. 
Anubis snuggles into your arms, his legs stretching and his toes spreading before he tucks them up against your forearm. His eyes go heavy lidded when you start to scratch his head, and now Wonwoo knows who he’s jealous of. 
He hates to admit it but it’s been years since he let someone touch him, and after just a minute or two of knowing you, he’s already hoping you’ll touch him more. He doesn’t know if it’s because you hold Anubis so lovingly, so gently, or if it’s because you have this aura about you that soothes him, or if it’s even because he feels this attraction, this draw to you. Maybe it’s all three. 
All he knows is that something about you makes him want to stay until his clothes are dry and the sun is setting, and then stay a little longer after that. Like for months, or even years, perhaps. 
He’s relieved when you ask if he’d like some tea, directing him over to the small fireplace in the back of the store and nodding to one of the chairs. When he sits, you lean down and plop Anubis in his lap, surprise painting your face when he doesn’t immediately jump down. 
“He’s usually wary of new people,” you hum thoughtfully, watching as the cat gets comfortable on his thighs. He brings his hand up and runs it over his soft fur, beaming up at you when he feels Anubis’s little body start vibrating beneath his palm. 
“I love him,” Wonwoo admits, his voice grave and his eyes open and true behind his glasses. 
You just laugh and say, “Me too,” before disappearing behind a door, leaving him alone with your cat. 
Rain is still barraging the building, the steady sound lulling him into a trance as he pets the sweet being in his lap. The fire warms him quickly, making him realize just how cold he was before, a small shiver attempting to wrack his body again. He keeps it contained to his shoulders, wanting to avoid disturbing Anubis if possible. 
He tells himself it’s just because he wants him to stay, but if he’s being honest, he also hopes that if you see that your cat likes him, then you will too. 
Before long, you return with a tray of steaming mugs, one for him and one for you. You set it carefully on the side table between the chairs, telling him, “I would let it steep for two more minutes. There’s also biscotti, and some crostini if you’re allergic to nuts.”
“Wow, thank you so much,” he breathes, his eyes wide. He’s run into some very nice people on his travels, but it’s been a while since he was met with such hospitality. Here he is, sitting in front of a blazing fire with tea and snacks waiting for him, after dirtying your shop and taking unapproved pictures of your model cat. Cat model?
“So, how much do you expect in royalties?” He asks with trepidation, knowing the magazine he works for is pretty big but maybe not big enough to pay residuals for pictures of a cat. 
You stare at him for a few seconds, squinting your eyes and quirking your head before chuckling, “That was a joke. Bubby isn’t a model, I just think he’s handsome enough to be one.”
“Ohhhh.”
Wonwoo feels himself blush, his cheeks and ears flaring red before he forces out a laugh to try to cover his embarrassment. He’s not used to jokes, usually relying on sarcasm, puns, and situational humor, and he’s a bit ashamed he didn’t realize you weren’t being serious. He stares down at Anubis, petting him softly so he doesn’t have to meet your eyes. 
“Tea should be ready,” you say brightly, picking up your mug with careful hands and kindly allowing him to recover without your gaze on him.
He follows suit, cupping his hands around the hot mug and bringing it to his lips so he can blow gently, huffing when steam fogs up his glasses. He pushes them up into his hair, thinking absentmindedly that he should get it cut soon as he takes his first sip. 
The flavors bloom on his tongue, mint, orange, cinnamon, honey, and something else he can’t put his finger on. It’s the most comforting tea he’s ever had, and he blinks over at you with misty, blurry eyes, sighing, “What is this? I need to buy four tons of it.”
“It’s called Evening Sorrento, it’s one of my favorites,” you smile indulgently, bringing your mug to your lips and drinking slowly before setting it down and reaching for the biscotti. 
He follows your lead, taking a biscuit and dipping it in his tea like you do. The first bite has him groaning in appreciation, dark chocolate, citrus, and almond blending together flawlessly, the taste only enhanced by the tea. 
“What’s the spiciness from?” He asks curiously, taking another sip to try to figure it out himself. 
“Ginger,” you whisper like it’s a secret. “I candied some and put it in the biscotti, too.”
“You made these?” He sounds astonished, he knows, but he almost can’t wrap his head around someone being able to create something so delicious when all he can do is fry an egg. He still burns it half the time, more scared of undercooking than he is of overcooking.
“Yeah, my best friend taught me how, she loves to bake,” you smile sweetly, seemingly pleased to see him enjoying the food you made. 
Anubis stirs, stretching out on Wonwoo’s lap before leaping onto the floor and up into your chair. You murmur, “Hi, baby,” and Wonwoo can’t help but grin as he watches your cat use your arm to pet himself. 
He asks how long you’ve had him, then for pictures when he learns you rescued him as a kitten, gasping softly at the tiny version of the cat as you swipe through photos. The conversation shifts to Wonwoo’s desire to adopt a cat before he explains why he can’t, and the way you look genuinely sad for him makes his heart swell. 
You ask more about his job, about the places he’s been and the things he’s seen, and in turn, he asks how you acquired all of the books in this store. It turns out you have contacts all over the world, friends who send you romance books when they come across them in exchange for a free one when they next come to visit. It seems like the perfect system, allowing you to collect novels in different languages and share them with the people you love. 
Talking to you is so easy that he doesn’t even notice how late it’s grown until you check your phone, a startled expression on your face as you say, “I should have closed half an hour ago.” 
He glances at his watch, blanching at the clock staring back at him. It’s been four hours since he burst into your shop looking for refuge from the downpour, and he doesn’t even know if it’s still raining. The sun has long since set, going down around six PM this time of year, which was over two and a half hours ago. 
He rises swiftly, nervously smoothing out the wrinkles in his slacks and thanking you for your generosity. You stand with him, hugging Anubis to your chest before offering the cat for one last snuggle. Wonwoo takes him carefully, bundling him up against his now dry shirt and smoothing a hand from his head all the way down to the nub at the end of his body. 
He starts purring immediately, the sound audible even over the crackling of the embers, making you smile softly and tell him, “Bubby likes you.”
“I like him,” Wonwoo beams, reluctantly handing the cat over when you stretch your arms out. 
“You love him,” you correct with mirth dancing in your eyes as you walk him to the door.
He peeks out, sighing in relief when he finds that the rain has stopped before turning to you. He almost doesn’t know what to say, goodbye feeling too final, too formal. He thanks you again instead, dragging his feet now that it’s time to leave. 
But he doesn’t want to be rude, or keep you any longer than he already has, so with one last wave and a scritch under Anubis’s chin, he leaves. 
You call out, “Come back soon!” and while he’s sure you say that to all your customers, he can’t help but feel like you mean it. 
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Wonwoo has a plan for the day: take the train to Venice, splurge on a gondola ride, and capture as many of the historical buildings as he can while the boat is guided through the canals. 
So why he finds himself standing outside of Storie d’Amore again, he doesn’t know. 
He managed to stay away for two days, hiking all over Verona and taking enough pictures to fill an SD card. He would have made it three if he asked the cab driver to take him to the train station instead of your place of business, but here he is. 
Some part of him wants to rationalize it. He didn’t get any photos of the area because of the rain, just of your (not) model cat, so he’s simply making up for lost time. That still doesn’t explain why he’s staring through the paned glass window at the end of your shop, hoping for a glimpse of you or Anubis. 
Obviously, you’re both here, but he doesn’t see either of you, and he also wants to buy a few books to take home, so it only makes sense that he goes into your store. 
He’s dry this time, thankfully, though he wonders if that means you won’t offer him tea and biscotti again. He can see a few people milling about, pulling books off the shelves to read the summaries and either placing them into mismatched baskets or putting them back. 
He does the same, searching for novels in the languages he knows with the intent of buying one of each. He’s gathered Italian, French, and English when he feels something rub against his leg, looking down to find a black cat staring up at him. 
“Anubis!” Wonwoo grins, leaning down to set the basket to the side so he can pick up his little friend. Holding him to his chest, he feels his heart warm as the purring starts, not even a little mad about the black fur accumulating on his shirt. 
“Oh!” 
He hears you gasp and glances up, smiling shyly at you and shifting to hold Anubis with one arm so he can send you a wave that only feels a little awkward. 
“I didn’t think you’d come back,” you say, stepping closer to him and taking in the basket at his feet and backpack slung over his shoulder. 
“You told me to,” he shrugs sheepishly, suddenly fearing that, “Come back soon,” is something you just say to everyone. 
“I didn’t think you actually would. I thought you’d be gone by now, on to the next destination.” 
He can’t tell if you’re happy to see him or not, but you haven’t kicked him out yet so he doesn’t plan on going anywhere. 
“The next destination can wait. I needed something to read on the plane anyway.” 
“Looks like you found more than just something,” you chuckle, peering closer to check out the titles he’s gathered so far. “All good choices,” you smile up at him, and he feels something unlock in his chest to make space for you. 
“Can I take you out on a date?” He blurts out, his eyes widening and his free hand flying up to cover his mouth. The words escaped without his permission, but he can’t say he wants to take them back. 
You tilt your head and look at him for a little while, like you’re searching for something, and you must find it because your smile grows before you nod and say, “I can close early tonight. Does seven work for you?” 
“It works perfectly,” he breathes after lowering his hand, his heart racing and his body feeling warm for once. 
A customer calls out your name, making you glance over before you turn back and say, “Leave your books at the register and meet me here later?” 
He can only nod, grinning too wide to manage any words. 
“Don’t take my cat, I love that little guy,” you warn him playfully (he thinks) and spin to find the source of the voice. He can hear you speaking in rapid French, easily translating it in his head without even meaning to. They’re asking for your help in choosing between two books, one a tragedy and one a comedy. 
You go over the pros and cons of each genre and offer your own personal opinions on the specific books, making Wonwoo wonder if you’ve read every novel in here. You seemed to recognize the books in his basket and you apparently know the ones this customer is talking about; maybe you read them as you receive them? 
But there are so many, there’s just no way, he thinks, letting Anubis wriggle out of his arms to follow you. He supposes that’s something he can ask you at dinner, the thought bringing a pleased little smile to his face. 
He selects his last two books and wanders over to the checkout counter, stashing his basket on the stool behind it before heading out to get pictures of the neighborhood while he can. 
He’ll be busy tonight, after all.
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Wonwoo returns to your shop five minutes before the clock strikes seven. 
He slips in without your notice, making his way to his favorite window and sitting down on the ledge next to Anubis to scroll through the pictures he took while he was out. The cat just sprawls a bit more so his feet are touching Wonwoo’s thigh, the tiny points of connection warming him from the inside out. 
He captured another proposal today, but this one didn’t leave a hollow feeling in his chest like the others. Now that he’s thinking about it, neither did any of the couples he passed. He was able to truly appreciate all of them without that sense of bitter loneliness, and he can only attribute that to meeting you. 
An unbidden smile stretches his lips as he thinks about the time he spent sitting by that fire with you, talking about anything that came to mind. It’s been months since he spent four straight hours with someone, just talking. It’s been years since he wanted to. 
A tiny part of him fears he only feels this way because he’s been so lonely, but the rest of him knows he’d be enamored with you no matter what state he was in. 
This is only confirmed when you round the bookshelf and come to a stop in front of him, an emerald green dress swishing over your thighs and a smile brightening your face. You cleared the store in the time he spent reminiscing, leaving the room empty but for you, Wonwoo, and Anubis.
The air feels tense, heavy with something Wonwoo can’t quite identify. It’s only when he rises to his feet and finds himself closer to you than he meant to be that he realizes that something is potential. 
It’s the same rush of anticipation that fills his chest when he lines up a shot he knows will be incredible, when he finishes climbing a hill and sees the perfect sunset waiting for him, when he finally finds the words to describe the indescribably beautiful. The fact that he’s feeling it now, with you, tells him everything he needs to know. 
His previous fear of meeting someone who would want to keep him has become a dream, a wish that he can only hope will come true, because now Wonwoo knows he wants you to take hold of him and never let go. 
“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his voice so full of longing, it’s almost embarrassing. 
“Before the first date? The scandal!” You say dramatically, feigning offense and lightly tapping him on the chest. He gasps at the contact and covers your hand with his, pressing it flat to his pec so you can feel his speeding heart. 
You must realize how serious he is, how desperate, because the playful smile falls from your face, your gaze darting between his eyes and his lips. He feels himself flush under your attention, his ears and the back of his neck hot as you stare up at him. 
“Yes, Wonwoo. You can kiss me,” you breathe softly, your face tilting up and your eyelashes fluttering as he begins to lean down. This moment feels monumental for some reason, like something he’ll remember for the rest of his life, and as he cups your face and carefully presses his lips to yours, he figures out why. 
Everything about kissing you feels right, as if all of his jagged pieces have fallen into place, as if this is what he was destined for, as if the fates connected him to you with an invisible, unbreakable string. 
He wasn’t restless, he wasn’t a bachelor, he was just waiting for you. 
Suddenly his smile is too broad for him to keep kissing you, giddiness flowing through his veins as he pulls back and rests his forehead against yours. He leaves his hands on your face, brushing his thumb over the curve of your cheekbone before biting back his grin and kissing you one, two, three more times. 
He feels shy when he takes a step back, letting one hand fall to catch yours and squeezing like it’s a lifeline. 
“Was that… life-changing for you too?” Wonwoo asks quietly, scared to pop the bubble he’s found himself in with you. 
“Maybe,” you whisper, vulnerability evident in your voice though your face gives nothing away. “We should get going.”
“Yeah, yes, we should,” he lets you pull away even though it physically pains him, following when you tug him to the door with the hand he’s still holding. 
He doesn’t know what just happened, why you closed yourself off, but he’ll give you the space you seem to need, sure that if he pushes it will only make you freeze up more. For now, he’ll take you to that romantic riverfront restaurant he passed earlier and encourage you to order any and everything you like. 
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You ease up a bit after a glass of wine and some shared appetizers, the smile on your face genuine again though your light still seems dimmer than it was before. You ask him a lot of questions but don’t offer up much information in return, keeping your responses short and to the point. 
It doesn’t disrupt the flow of conversation at all, thankfully; Wonwoo and you are compatible enough that it’s easy to bounce from one topic to another. There’s never a pause, never a moment where he doesn’t know what to say, and even with you being more withdrawn than expected, he still laughs himself to tears more than once. 
It’s late by the time he pays the bill and walks you home, which he’s learned is the building right above your shop. There aren’t many people out, and though he startled you when he took your hand in his, he continues to hold it the whole way back. You’ve gone quiet again, pensive, making him wonder if he’s done something wrong, or, worse, if you regret kissing him. 
You only started acting like this after he pressed his lips to yours, after he asked if it was life-changing for you like it was for him. 
He doesn’t know what else it could be, unless you figured out you just don’t feel the same way about him as he does about you. His heart drops into his stomach at the thought, his fingers subconsciously clenching around yours, making you glance up at him in concern. 
He stares forward resolutely, not ready to see confirmation of his fears in your gaze. 
By the time that big window and Anubis’s sleeping body come into view, Wonwoo has convinced himself that you feel nothing but friendship for him and simply don’t know how to say it. 
Still, he can’t help but try, one last time. 
“Do you think I could see you again before I go? I’ve got plenty of pictures and I fly out tomorrow night, so my day is clear.”
You take a second to think about it, your eyes shuttering as if you don’t want him to see the thoughts behind them, before you answer solemnly, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Oh,” he breathes out, feeling like all the air has been pulled out of his lungs. “You don’t… think it’s a good idea. Okay, I’ll, um, I’ll just go, then.”
He can’t even make himself look at you, knowing that his mouth is pinched in the way it does when he’s trying not to cry. He squeezes your hand once more before disentangling his fingers from yours, taking a step back, and turning to walk away so you can’t see him lift up his glasses and rub at his burning eyes. 
He doesn’t get far before you call out his name. 
“Wonwoo! I… It’s because you’re leaving,” you sound as close to tears as he feels, your voice plaintive and fragile. 
He stops short and chews on his lip, swiping at his face with rough hands as your footsteps sound on the cobblestones. You let him stay where he is but he feels your fingers clench in the back of his shirt, like you’re afraid he’ll still walk away. 
That touch is enough for him to turn around, his hand catching yours as it falls and his heart stuttering at the sheen of tear tracks on your face. He brings his other hand up to brush his thumb under your eye, sweeping away a freshly fallen drop. 
“Is that why you said maybe, after I kissed you?” He asks in a gentle, low tone, less fearful of the answer now. 
“Yes. This has an expiration date, I don’t get to keep you. I couldn’t admit that just one kiss had me ready to sell my shop, buy a new cat carrier, and join you on the road,” you laugh softly in a self-deprecating way, avoiding his gaze again like you’re embarrassed. 
“Y/n, when I said it was life-changing for me, I meant it. As in, I would change my life for you. I can transfer to the Italian branch, go on shorter assignments, find a place here. You can keep me.”
“Wonwoo, I can’t ask you to do all that for me. I mean, we only met a few days ago, how do you know you won’t regret this?” You sound reluctant to accept his offer, but it seems to be coming from a place of worry for him instead of a lack of feeling, and he can work with that.
“I’ve been thinking about settling down anyway, I just needed a sign. Meeting you was that sign, and getting to know you like this has only made me more and more sure. Please, all you have to do is believe in me.”
Finally, you meet his eyes, searching them like you did when he asked you out, and once again, you find what you’re looking for. A watery smile stretches your lips as you step closer to him and up onto your tiptoes, wrapping your free arm around his neck and pulling him into a hug. 
His eyelids flutter shut, his arm vining around your waist and hauling you up against his body so you can feel his galloping heart. He presses his lips to the top of your head and breathes you in, finding your scent absolutely intoxicating. 
It’s fruity like pomegranate but sweet and floral too, reminding him of the lotus flowers he stumbled across in the southern Himalayas. There’s an underlying warmth, a natural musk that makes him wonder if you’re wearing perfume or if you just smell like this on your own. 
He doesn’t really care either way, not now that he has you so close, your joined hands coming up to rest against his shoulder and your body relaxing into his. You stay like that until his heart returns to a somewhat normal pace, before he pulls away just far enough to look down at you. He tugs his hand free so he can cup your face, whispering, “I’m gonna kiss you again, okay?” 
“Please do,” you whisper back, taking in a shuddering breath just before he locks his lips with yours. You sigh it out into his mouth and he swallows it like it’s a benediction, your tongue dragging against his as he kisses you and kisses you and kisses you. 
He’s about to let out a groan when a wooden shutter bangs against the stone building above, a loud voice shouting, “Prendi una stanza!”
“É la città dell'amore, Stefano, dacci una pausa!” You break away to shout back, grinning at Wonwoo’s flaming cheeks. 
“Y/n? Vai avanti, caro!” The shutter snaps closed again and Wonwoo bends over in a full body laugh, clutching his stomach as his abs flex with mirth. You’re not laughing like he is, but you are watching with affection and only the slightest bit of embarrassment. 
When he’s finally regained his composure, he straightens and wipes at his cheeks again, crying for a completely different reason than before. You smile up at him fondly, reaching out to fix his hair and asking, “Since you’re free tomorrow, do you want to come up for some coffee?”
Wonwoo doesn’t know if you’re really offering refreshments or if the coffee is a euphemism for something else, but either way, it’s an easy answer. 
“Of course I do.”
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Anubis starts meowing as soon as you unlock the door to your shop, loping over on graceful paws and weaving between your feet. 
“You had your dinner, why are you shouting at me?” You ask as you crouch to pick him up, holding him like a baby and scratching at his stomach gently. 
“Maybe he missed you?”
You mull it over for a little bit, nodding your head in acceptance and admitting, “I don’t usually go out at night, so maybe he did.”
“Is that why your neighbor was fine with us making out as soon as he figured out it was you?” 
You lightly jab him in the stomach with your elbow and he pretends to be mortally wounded, stumbling and groaning dramatically as if he’d been hit with an arrow instead. 
He supposes he has been, but it was one of Cupid’s, not one of yours. 
Anubis twists out of your arms and you let him, locking the entrance to your store and leading Wonwoo to the back. You unlock one of the doors with a huff of exertion and a jiggle of the handle, turning to say, “Old building,” before pushing the door open and letting Anubis dart up the staircase in front of you. Wonwoo jerks the door closed and locks it with the key you hand him, following you up the stairs in near darkness. 
The room you lead him into is a bit smaller than your store, containing a compact kitchen and warm living room flanked by a wall with two doors. “Bathroom is on the right, if you need it.”
He slips off his shoes and excuses himself to freshen up, taking care of his business and washing his hands quickly. Chancing a look in the mirror, Wonwoo finds that he’s flushed, aglow with infatuation, his smile irrepressible and wider than ever. He almost can’t look himself in the eye, knowing that all he’d find is adoration for you, and perhaps a bit of nervousness. 
He doesn’t know what to expect now, doesn’t know if this is leading where he thinks it is or how to act in whatever case. But, not wanting to keep you waiting, he opens the door and shuts off the light, finding you sitting at your dining table with a full french press and two mugs in front of you. 
He wants to speed over but he strolls instead, trying to appear at least a little unaffected. That facade is broken when he stops a few feet from the table, suddenly unsure of whether he should sit next to you or opposite from you. 
Blessedly, you make the choice for him, sliding one mug across the table before smoothly depressing the plunger of the french press. 
The rich smell of coffee permeates the air as you gracefully pour, filling his cup with the steaming, dark liquid before filling yours. “Is black okay? I have sugar and oat milk, if you need them.”
“Black is great, thank you.”
He’s acclimated to the bitterness enough to appreciate the deeper notes, though it’s only because he was once too shy to ask for sugar. He sips carefully, wondering with a satisfied hum if this really is the best coffee he’s ever had or if he just thinks that because you made it for him. 
You fall into an easy chat, discussing pictures he took and customers you had while he was out and about, before you bite your lip and stare down into your coffee like it’ll give you strength. 
“Wonwoo, can I ask you something… personal?” 
Your eyes slowly return to his, and the heat in your gaze makes him want to pop open a few buttons on his shirt and fan himself.  
“Sure,” he says, with only a little trepidation. 
“What are you like in bed?”
Oh. 
Oh. You want to know what he’s like in bed. 
Have you thought about what he’s like in bed? Have you thought about being in bed with him? Have you thought about him and touched yours-
He should answer you before he lets himself get carried away.
“Um, I’m a little different, I suppose. I like to be more… dominant. Maybe a bit rougher than I may seem,” his voice is hushed, and he wants to look away from the intensity of your stare, but he finds he can’t. It’s like you’ve hypnotized him, entranced him with a single question. 
“Is there anything specific that you like?”
This conversation, he likes this conversation. A lot. He can feel his slacks tightening with it, his heart thumping far too hard to be healthy and his mind starting to offer up ideas so fast he can barely make sense of them. 
They’re mostly images, sensations, feelings, all modeled after you. 
“I like,” he begins slowly. “I like being in control. I think I’d like holding you down, making you take what I’m giving you. I like talking,” he chuckles wryly, before continuing.
“I like listening too. I wouldn’t want you to hold back, I’d want to hear every little noise I could pull out of you. And I think I’d really like using my hands first, making you cum until you cry. Or until you beg for my cock.”
You suck in a ragged breath and glance away before looking back at him. Finally, he can read you, desire obvious on your face and in the tight knuckled grip you have on your mug. 
You set it down cautiously, aware of the still scalding coffee inside, and push away from the table to stand. Wonwoo watches you walk around to his side, his gaze fighting to stay on your face and not on the way your dress moves over your thighs as you get closer and closer to him. 
You stop just a foot away, holding your hand out and waiting for him to take it with a slight air of impassioned impatience. He places his hand in yours and rises to his feet, valiantly ignoring the view of your breasts from this angle and following you when you turn and begin tugging him to the door on the left. 
“Are we done talking?” Wonwoo asks, exhilarated and aroused, his dick hardening so quickly it leaves him feeling dizzy. 
“Not even a little bit,” you breathe, pushing the door open and facing him again as you walk backwards towards your bed. 
He crosses the few steps between you, crowds you up to the edge of the bed and pushes you to lay down with a gentle hand on your shoulder. His hands won’t stay gentle for long, and he hopes you understand what you’ve gotten yourself into. 
“If you don’t like something I do, tell me,” he whispers before leaning down and taking hold of your legs, pulling them apart and filling the space in between with his hips. 
“I will,” you gasp as he grinds against you, your dress pooled at the top of your thighs, just barely exposing your black panties. “But I don’t think I’ll need to.” 
I like everything you do. 
You don’t say it but he hears it anyway, the corner of his mouth lifting in a soft smirk before he braces his hands on either side of your head and moves in close. He doesn’t kiss you yet, just watches the way your eyelids flutter shut and your lips pout in preparation. You peek an eye open when he continues to hold himself away from you, your hand rising to cup his neck and attempt to tug him down to you. 
The second your fingers come into contact with him, he shifts his weight to one hand and grips your wrist with the other, pushing it down to the bed and holding it there. You bite back a smile, wriggle beneath him to get more comfortable, and drape your other hand above your head. 
That, he likes, and he rewards you by releasing your wrist and dragging his fingers up your inner thigh instead, digging them into the warm, soft flesh and groaning when he comes into contact with your panties. They’re soaking, so much wetter than he expected, and when he cups his big, cold hand over the seat of them, you shiver and buck up into his touch. 
“How long has it been for you?” Wonwoo asks, as if it hasn’t been literal years for him. 
“Um, a while, it’s been… a while,” you admit, seemingly shy for the first time. He should reassure you, but he likes the way you shrink beneath him, likes even more the thought of being your first in however long. He plans on being your last for the foreseeable future, so it’s only right he’s the one to break your dry spell. 
“Good,” he grins wickedly down at you, pulling your panties to the side and letting his fingers glide through your arousal. You’re soft, and sopping wet, and hot, so fucking hot, just for him, and already he’s wondering if he’ll be able to make good on his words.
If he’ll be able to hold himself back from you long enough to make you beg for it. 
He’ll do his best though, for you, and that starts with not grinding himself into your thigh. He needs to forget about his own pleasure, focus solely on yours, or he’ll be balls deep inside you before he’s even made you cum once. 
That won’t do, not when he wants you writhing on his fingers and pleading for his cock. 
So he pulls his hips away from you and tucks the tip of one digit into your entrance, sliding it in slowly enough that your face crumples in impatience, a low whine escaping you when he just leaves it there and drags his thumb over your clit. 
He wants to take his time, wants to learn you with his hands and his teeth and his tongue, wants to catalog your reactions and be able to take you apart diligently, passionately, like you deserve. 
This teaches him that you don’t like to be teased, and he decides to shelve the idea of edging for another day. He’ll go with overstimulation instead, he thinks, working another finger inside and rubbing more firmly with his thumb. Your face relaxes, your mouth opening on a sigh, and Wonwoo can’t resist leaning down to suck at your plump bottom lip as he curls his fingers inside of you, not yet searching for the spot that will make you gush for him. 
He’ll find it when he’s ready, when he feels like he’s built you up enough, and then he’ll use it to push you over the edge as many times as you can take. For now, he’ll savor the taste of your noises and start stretching out your perfect cunt. 
He pulls away from your mouth, fully aware that he could get lost in your kiss and intent on talking to you more before he lets that happen. 
“You feel so fucking good wrapped around my fingers like this. You know that, don’t you? You know how your cunt hugs them, sucks them in deeper and deeper, because you touch yourself, right?” 
You nod and Wonwoo allows it, won’t make you follow all of his rules until next time, until he’s sure you can handle it. 
“Did you touch yourself for me that night? After we met?” He asks softly, rewarding you with a tap right into your sweet spot when you cry out, “Yes!” 
“Did you say my name when you came?” His fingers pick up speed inside of you, fucking in and out to the beat of his own pounding heart. 
“Yes, Wonwoo,” you whimper, your hands twisting in the sheets above your head and your eyes squeezing shut before he pulls his fingers out and lands a wet smack on your inner thigh. You gasp and try to close your legs but Wonwoo is stronger than you, holds them open with both hands before leaning in close to kiss the stinging skin and say, “Keep your eyes on me.”
You nod tearily, holding his gaze as he sinks his fingers back inside of you and hovers close enough to your pussy that he’s sure you can feel his breath. He quirks his fingers up just as his tongue makes contact with your clit, and the way your lashes flutter but don’t fall brings a proud smirk to his face. 
“You’re a good listener, aren’t you?” He murmurs into your cunt. You start to answer but then he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, and you shudder out a moan instead. The sound sends electricity zipping down his spine and straight into his cock, making it throb for you in his slacks. 
He ignores it, shifting to rest on his knees and sucking harder, grinding his fingertips up into your front wall so he can draw that same sound out of you again. He told you before that he wanted to hear every little noise he could pull from you, and he meant it, including noises that don’t come from your mouth. 
You’re getting so wet, he can hear it, his fingers squelching inside of you with every thrust, every curl. He doesn’t remember his past partners being so aroused, and he’s already obsessed, already dead set on making you fucking drench him. 
He knows all he needs to do is make you cum and you’ll give him exactly what he wants, so he taps into your g-spot with more force, fucking his fingers into you hard and fast until your cries reach a fever pitch and your back arches. He doesn’t stop, dragging you through your orgasm and pushing you further even as your cunt ripples and squeezes around his fingers, the sensation so intense he almost feels the phantom pulse of you around his dick, too. 
It makes him groan, a deep, dark sound muffled by your pussy, and that seems to be what sends you careening over the edge again, your thighs attempting to clamp shut around him. He lightly smacks one with his free hand, gripping the soft fat and pushing it up and out so he has enough room to work. The other settles on his shoulder but he doesn’t mind that, likes the weight of it, wants you to feel stable and secure as he takes you apart piece by piece. 
You’re writhing on his hand, just like he wanted, your gaze teary and nearly empty, like your beautiful brain is focused on him and him alone, and ohhhh, he likes that, he likes that a lot. He wants to wreck you, wants to leave you with nothing in your head but thoughts of him and when he’ll make you break again. 
He doesn’t know if you can, but he’s desperate to see you flood him, to make you squirt all over him, regardless of the fact that this shirt is dry clean only. He’ll scrub it out in the sink if he has to, doesn’t care what happens to the fibers if it means he can make you cum hard enough to ruin them. 
You’re getting close again, he thinks with lurid satisfaction, his hand a blur between your thighs. He pulls away to murmur, “Hold your leg for me,” waiting for understanding to spark in your eyes. You wrap your hand beneath your knee and manage a wobbly smile, and Wonwoo feels affection burst in his chest like a firework, his lips curving in response as he brings his now free hand to your cunt. 
His fingers push at the crest of your pussy, exposing your swollen clit for his thumb to cover, the pad of it pressing down and rubbing harsh circles. Your eyebrows furrow and your eyes water, your mouth stuck open on a needy moan that grows louder with every tap of your g-spot. It’s a whine soon enough, one that hitches in your throat as he fucks you with his fingers, and when he grinds his fingertips deep into you, he sees alarm grow in your eyes. 
You try to warn him but you can’t seem to speak, only blubbers of his name gracing his ears, making him grin ferally and say, “Don’t worry, baby, I want it to happen. I want you to fucking soak me, now.”
He honestly didn’t expect that to work but apparently, you can cum on command, or, as he tells himself, on his command, because you suck in a deep breath and keen for him. Your cunt flutters wildly around his fingers, clenching down on them and sucking them in before tightening to the point that he can’t move them, his fingertips locked into your sweet spot as you fucking gush. 
He can feel it spraying out onto his face and dampening his button down, arousal flowing out of you like a rushing river, making him groan out, “Fuck yes, just like that.” 
His voice is gravelly and low, desire deepening its pitch, and you shiver above him, though that may have more to do with the thumb still strumming your clit and the fingers still plugging you up. 
He could go again but he doesn’t want to push you too far this first night, doesn’t know where your limits lay or if you’re ready for him to find out for himself, so when your walls finally release his fingers, he slowly pulls them out and gently cups your pussy to help you calm down. 
He’s surprised when you speak, and even more shocked that it’s enough to make him laugh out loud. 
“All that and you didn’t even take my dress off,” you mumble, letting go of your thigh and reaching down to drift a hand over his hair, petting him like he’s an animal you’ve domesticated. 
Maybe he is, and maybe you have. You’re the only one that’s ever made him want to stay, to plant roots, to be domestic. 
Fondly, he says, “I did that on purpose. Now whenever you wear it, you’ll think about me.”
“I don’t need the dress to think about you, Wonwoo, I promise you that,” you hum, letting your eyes slip closed and missing the way his gaze fills with infatuation as he rests his cheek on your thigh and wraps his hands around your ankles. 
His glasses are splattered with you and so is the rest of him, his cock is hard and aching and leaky, and his knees are all but decimated from kneeling on your wood floor for so long, but Wonwoo has never been happier in his life. 
“Will you fuck me now?” 
His brows raise in disbelief, his fingers twitching on your legs, and he stands as quickly as he can manage, bracing one hand beside your head and taking hold of your chin with the other. You blink open your eyes to look at him, the haze in them just a bit clearer, though he’s sure your thoughts are still clouded with pleasure. 
“You still want me?” He asks in full seriousness, his dick pulsing at the thought of feeling your flawless cunt wrapped around it. 
“Yeah, you gonna make me beg?” You murmur, your gaze just a touch defiant. 
He wants to fuck that rebelliousness out of you. 
“I said I’d like to, didn’t I?” He responds slowly, greed simmering in his veins and surely obvious on his face. 
Your eyes narrow before you visibly collect yourself, finding that submissive side you seemed to lean into before. He watches as you let it take over, shrinking beneath him somehow, the expression on your face needy and compliant.
“Please Wonwoo, please give me your cock. I’ve thought about it since we met, since I noticed how built you were under that soaking white shirt. Your shoulders are so broad and your hands are so big and you’re so much taller than me. All I wanted was for you to pin me down and fuck me however you liked, and that’s still all I want.”
He sucks in a deep breath through his nose, carefully concealing how fucking wild your words make him feel. He needs to maintain this illusion of control or you’ll gain the upper hand, and he can’t let that happen. He’s already going to give you exactly what you want, he’ll die before he lets you be smug about it too. 
It takes everything in him but he manages to pull away, releasing your chin and standing at his full height, a smirk rising at the way your hands leave their place above your head to cling to him. 
“Get up. Take your dress off,” he commands stoically, backing up and giving you space to push off the bed onto your feet. Your hands tremble as you reach for the hem, and in a brief moment of tenderness, he covers them with his and lifts it with you, laughing and helping you wrench it off when it gets stuck at the elbows. 
He stops laughing when you fling the dress onto the chair in the corner of your room and stare up at him, clad in just your skewed panties and a little bitten off grin. His eyes fall to your breasts, the shape and weight of them immaculate, just begging for his mouth. He fully plans on worshiping them at the next possible opportunity, but he’s got a different goal in mind now. His hands gravitate to your hips, fingertips tucking in the waistband of your underwear and pulling them down before returning to push you gently toward the bed. 
“Lay down for me.”
Wonwoo doesn’t know why he’s being soft on you now. He’s still hard enough to cut glass but something in him just can’t be harsh when he feels like he does about you, especially after you already took what he gave you so well. Maybe it’s the vulnerable look in your eyes, maybe it’s the way his heart feels three sizes too big for his chest. 
But maybe it’s because when he looks back on your first time together, he doesn’t want it to look like his previous encounters. He wants it to look like a couple that loves each other, that knows they want to be together, that will make sacrifices for each other. 
Obviously, dominating you can still look like that, but right now his soul aches to be gentle with you. Emotionally, at least. 
He’s still going to fuck you into your mattress, he’ll just be kinder about it. 
You can tell that something has shifted in him and somehow it makes you even more pliant, your face open as you patiently wait for his next instruction. He doesn’t give one yet, reaching up to take his glasses off and wipe away the drying release with the edge of his button down before setting them on your night stand. 
He works on getting naked, swiftly unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off, carelessly letting it float down to the floor as he undoes his pants. He removes his socks next, pairing them up and dropping them to the side before pushing down his boxer briefs. 
It occurs to him that you haven’t talked about safety at all, and as he climbs over you, his thick, leaking dick dragging against your skin, he asks, “Do we need a condom?”
You swear under your breath and look down, biting your lip before whispering, “I’m not on birth control, and I have condoms but I honestly don’t think they’ll fit you. Do you have any?” 
He swears too, remembering the expired one in his wallet and sighing, “Not one that we could use. I get tested regularly and I’m negative for everything, but what do you wanna do?” 
“Um, well… I haven’t had sex since I last got tested and everything was clear, so what if you pull out? I track my cycle and I’m not ovulating right now.”
It’s risky, and sex without a condom isn’t something Wonwoo’s ever had, but he wants you more than anything, and he believes in his ability to honor your wishes and pull out when he needs to. 
“Let’s do that this one time, and I’ll get condoms for the future,” he agrees, smiling at the way your eyes get brighter when he says ‘future’. 
He settles back into his role seamlessly, though this time, he’s less domineering and more caring, to be sure. Your legs are already spread for him, but he slips his hands under your knees and tucks them up to your chest, resting your calves on his shoulders and setting one hand on the bed to hold himself up. 
The other reaches for his dick, and he fights back a shiver at the chill of his own touch, his perpetually cold hands freezing compared to his searing hot cock. He can’t help but lay it over your pussy, feeling his ears and the back of his neck tingle with a blush when he estimates where he’ll end inside of you. 
You squirm beneath him and he brings his hands back to your thighs, pulling his hips back enough to notch the head of his dick in your entrance before starting to push inside. You’re tight like this, all folded up, but your walls part to welcome him like he’s a missing piece of you, like he’s always been meant to fill you up when you’re empty. 
He moves slowly, not to tease you but to savor you, luxuriating in the feeling of your velvet heat, your perfect cunt as it forms around him. It could be minutes or hours before he bottoms out, but when he does, he almost can’t think, he’s so consumed by sensation. 
He closed his eyes without realizing it, and now he forces them open, only to find you already staring up at him, your gaze unwavering and your hands coming up to hold his where they push at your thighs. 
You seem breathless, and it’s probably partly due to the position but Wonwoo prefers to think it’s because you’re as overwhelmed as he is, so wrought with pleasure that it toes the line of pain. 
You’re still shorter than him, even like this, so he has to curve down to kiss you but it’s worth it because you bloom for him, moaning into his mouth and clenching around his cock when he glides his tongue against yours. With your lips still pressed to his, he draws his hips back a few inches, enough to feel air cling to the wetness on his cock, before thrusting inside sharply. His hips meet your ass with a loud smack, the only other noise in the room being your muffled whimpers and the wet sound of his lips moving against yours. 
Again, he pulls out, almost to the tip this time, and sends his hips forward, grunting at the feeling of your cunt embracing him. It’s perfection, you’re perfection, and he resolves to be nothing but perfect for you too. 
He swallows your sounds and categorizes them; you whimper when he pulls out far and thrusts in deep, moan when he just grinds himself into you, yelp when he fucks you with sharp, fast bucks of his hips. He follows their lead like he’s untying a knot or working through a maze, methodically dismantling you down to your nuts and bolts. 
You’re barely kissing him back when he finally derives the best combination of pace and depth, your lips quivering against his as you whine continuously, the pitch rising every time he reaches the end of you. Your eyes are open but they’re glazed over, and he can’t tell if he’s fucked you dumb or fucked you to tears but either way, it makes his lips stretch in a vicious grin. 
He loves kissing you but that’s not what’s happening anymore, so he pulls away and puts more of his weight on your thighs, using the leverage to fuck into you harder. He doesn’t go faster, knowing that if he does, this will end far sooner than he wants it to. 
He’d like to draw at least one more orgasm from you before he cums, and he can’t do that if he’s got even more friction on his cock. He’s a little surprised there is any with how wet you are, but you’re perfectly matched to his size so your walls grasp him tight every time he pulls back, the drag of them flawless on his sensitive skin. 
Your sounds are louder now that he’s not muffling them with his mouth, melodic in his ears and something he knows he’ll reproduce in his mind again and again, whenever he’s away from you and feeling particularly lonely. 
He’ll have to cut down on his traveling now that he’s got you, but that doesn’t scare him like it used to. Instead, he’s excited to have someone who makes him want to stay and build a home, build a life. He kind of feels like this is the first step, making you his and giving himself to you in return, and it’s enough to make his cock twitch and leak just a little bit of precum inside of you. 
He takes that for the warning it is, consciously veering away from thoughts of domesticity and belonging before dedicating the whole of his body to making you cum. He pushes away from you to sit up on his knees and haul your ass into his lap, your calves still resting on his shoulders and his dick just barely inside of you. 
He angles his hips and thrusts back in shallowly, no longer hitting as deep but aiming the head of his cock at that innervated patch inside of you. Your eyes grow wide and you suck in a deep gasp, your fingers clenching around his where they hold your legs, your reaction letting him know he’s got you. 
He fucks into that spot relentlessly, wondering if he can make you cum with just his cock. He stimulated your clit before too but you feel like you’re getting close, and he doesn’t want to change something trying to help only to hinder you instead. 
He doesn’t have much time to think before you’re crying out his name urgently, your tone plaintive and your voice thin. It sounds like you’re right on the edge, looks like it too, your brows screwed up in pleasure and your eyes bright with bliss. He’s almost as close as you are, his orgasm spooled up at the base of his spine and ticking like a time bomb, just waiting for him to let himself go. 
“Cum, baby,” he pants, hoping beyond hope that you’ll listen and obey just one more time. He doesn’t know how much longer he can hold on, prays that he’ll be able to endure the euphoria your climax will bring, that he won’t have to ruin it by pulling out while you’re deep in its thrall. 
But you do listen, thank fuck, you do, your eyes rolling back and your cunt clamping down on him in a vise grip, the sheer heat and wetness of you enough to pull a strangled groan from deep in his throat. It takes everything in him not to cum with you, the feeling incredible and the sight just as glorious, the impact of both beyond the realm of imagination. 
He lasts just long enough to get you through your aftershocks, his chest heaving for air as he makes himself pull out of the eden of your cunt. Blood rushes in his ears and fluffy cotton candy fills his head, his thoughts no more than paper airplanes gliding on a warm breeze. He watches his cum cover your perfect tits in white stripes, feeling as if he’s out of his body and out of his mind. 
Your hands squeeze his and you breathe his name, slowly pulling him back to you, like he’s a balloon that’s floated away and you’ve miraculously caught his string. You’re blurry in his vision and he can’t tell if it’s because he doesn’t have his glasses on or if he’s just crying, but either way he releases your legs and leans in close to see you better. 
You cup his cheeks and pull him into a soft kiss, the soothing, reassuring pressure bringing him back down to earth, back to you. He should be the one taking care of you right now, but he feels like he’s been cracked open, his soul and his heart bare, unprotected. 
“You’re okay,” you whisper, petting his cheekbones with your thumbs, and that’s what restarts him. 
He presses his lips to yours ardently, gathering up all of his feelings and pouring them into you, the intensity drawing a gentle sigh that travels from your mouth to his. He breathes it in before pulling away and focusing on you.
Lying down next to you, he pulls you into his arms, uncaring of the sticky cum that smears on his chest when your breasts press against him. He holds you for a while, until his heartbeat feels close to normal and his head feels close to clear. He’s about to drift off when he remembers how dirty you both still are.
“Do you want to shower?” He asks in a low voice, grinning at the way your face scrunches in displeasure at the thought before you look up at him and respond, “Are we going to fuck again tonight?” 
He thinks on it for a moment, weighing options and offering his opinion, “I don’t want to tempt fate too many times, so I think we should just go to sleep for now and go out for condoms and Plan B tomorrow morning. Then I’ll fuck you all day, if you want.” 
You smile serenely and nod, your eyes already half lidded with exhaustion. 
“Does that mean you do want to shower, then?” He confirms, his fingers drumming on your bare back. 
“Yeah,” you pout, obviously reluctant to get up and get clean. 
“I’ll go start it and come get you when it’s warm. Don’t worry, baby, I’ll do all the work,” he promises you, grinning when your pout stretches into a pleased little smile. 
He climbs out from under you and off the bed, walking on shaky knees to the bathroom, his soft cock hanging between his legs. He wonders if you have a washer, his shirt and boxers are not usable in their current state, but he can just use the sink if he needs to. He’ll have to go back to his hotel sometime tomorrow, to change and gather his things for his flight back home, and he’s already dreading the idea of it. 
It would be nice if he could get his film camera, maybe take a few pictures of you to tide him over until his transfer is finalized and he can find an apartment here. He feels like you’d be up for that, imagines photographing you in all kinds of positions and varying states of undress, safe in the knowledge that he can rent a darkroom and develop them himself. 
He struggles for a minute but figures out your shower eventually, turning it on and standing by until steam gathers on the mirror. He catches a glance at himself just before it fogs over, blushing at the image staring back at him. 
His lips are swollen and red, his cheeks flushed with exertion and joy, his eyes luminous for what feels like the first time in years. You’ve made your mark on him, tattooed him in gold, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever be the same. 
That’s not something he minds. He even finds himself smiling at the idea of rearranging his pieces to fit with yours, of making space in his life for you and Anubis to fill. 
When he leaves the bathroom to get you, the cat is laying on the dining table, sprawled out with his eyes closed, and Wonwoo breathes a sigh of relief. If he’s being honest, he forgot entirely that there was another being in this apartment, and he’s glad your activities didn’t seem to disturb him. 
He wants to smooth a hand down Anubis’s side but doesn’t want to wake him, so he stares at the cat for just a second longer before turning to your bedroom and poking his head through the door frame. 
You’re starfishing on the bed, his cum mostly dry on your tits and your eyes gently shut, and he can’t contain the laugh that bubbles out of his chest. 
Like mother, like son.
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Wonwoo draws in a deep, centering breath as he raises the camera to his bespectacled eye, grateful not for the first time that he’s in the city of love. 
This will be the first proposal he’s photographed today, the third this week, and for someone who’s always thought he didn’t mind love, he finds himself unbelievably excited. 
He calls your name, watches dust motes float through a shining sunbeam as you stir in the bed you share, your tired gaze finding him before it lands on the book beside you. Or, more accurately, on the ring sitting on the book beside you. 
You draw in a sharp gasp, your eyes flying to his, and he depresses the shutter button just as your face breaks into a beam bright enough to rival a supernova. 
He thinks this will be his favorite photograph yet. 
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AN: And the book was titled April Shower and it contains your love story as written by your best friend, the end 💖
“Prendi una stanza!” - "Get a room!"
“É la città dell'amore, Stefano, dacci una pausa!” - "It's the city of love, Stefano, give us a break!"
“Y/n? Vai avanti, caro!” - "Y/n? Carry on, dear!"
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My Masterlist
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katiefrog217 · 2 months
Text
AziraCrow | Book Reading
(Scroll down for mini story vvvv) + (Companion Piece)
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Aziraphale liked books, especially the old ones. They were the main reason for owning his bookshop, after all.
He loved reading them, too. Sitting quietly in the back of his bookshop with a good book and the occasional accompaniment of an old record made for quite the delightful evening, in his opinion. Despite his being handless (and therefore, fingerless), Aziraphale was perfectly capable of turning pages on his own. Not with his talons of course; Heaven only knew the trouble that would come from attempting to turn the aging and potentially fragile paper with such unreliable instruments. It would be a simple enough fix if a page did happen to tear, but the memory would haunt him forever. Instead, all it took was a flick of his wing and woosh, the pages would turn themselves. Sometimes he just had to ask nicely. However, there were times that he didn't need to expend the effort.
Those times just so happened to coincide with a particularly serpentine visitor.
Crowley's visits were irregular and not always predictable. Most of the time he would pop in to complain about Who-Knows-What and disappear off to Who-Knows-Where. Sometimes he would stay longer, and they would share a glass of wine or some other alcohol, chatting a lot about nothing and reminiscing about times long passed until the shadows grew long. On rare occasions they would sit in comfortable silence, doing nothing more than enjoying each other's company. Aziraphale would then pick a book to read and Crowley would slither over to join him.
Of course, Crowley didn't like reading - or at least claimed he didn't. 'Not worth his time,' he'd say dismissively. Still, he (bored expression and all) would come, make himself comfortable by coiling around both the book stand and Aziraphale, and just watch. Just about anyone on Earth would likely be uncomfortable being stared down by such an intense gaze, but not Aziraphale. Over the many millennia, he has grown used to being observed by those golden eyes. Dare he say, he even found it comforting in a way, but that was besides the point.
He wasn't sure how it started; perhaps Crowley found himself overly bored that day, but he began turning the book pages whenever Aziraphale raised his wing to compel them instead. It had started him at first, and he had looked to Crowley with much confusion, though the demon had nothing to say in return. He merely shrugged (or at least it could be considered the serpentine equivalent of a shrug) and turned away. A few more pages in, and he'd turn them again. This happened over and over until Aziraphale heaved a sigh gave in, allowing the serpent to do as he wanted. At first, it was quite awkward to give verbal cues, and there were times when he became so engrossed in his reading that he forgot entirely, but eventually they settled into a comfortable rhythm. Nowadays he didn't even bother. It had become almost automatic: Aziraphale would finish the page and it would turn, no questions asked.
Aziraphale suspected it would baffle the minds of many to see a demon treat anything so gently, yet Crowley turned the pages in such a way that they were never bent nor crumpled. In fact, it seemed to him that the older the book was, the gentler Crowley'd be. He seemed... 'content' was the wrong word to describe his attitude towards the activity, but he never said a word otherwise. At least, not to Aziraphale.
He never pointed this out, of course. Crowley would stop doing it if he did, and he didn't WANT him to stop. He enjoyed it too much.
Once in a blue moon, Crowley would make a comment about whatever Aziraphale was reading at the time. It was often snide, mocking, not always audible. Hisses of exasperation or an exaggerated eye roll were not uncommon either. Then he would turn away, bored despondence washing over his face, shutting down any attempts to further the conversation. Not that he would respond if Aziraphale did, though that hadn't stopped him from trying. On one occasion Aziraphale had tried to push the topic, only for Crowley to deflect, insisting that he had only glanced the passage at random. He stopped turning the pages then. Aziraphale never tried again and settled with only giving him sidelong glances when he said something particularly egregious.
And so they would read, the silence broken only by the ticking of an old clock and the occasionally rustle of a page.
...
Aziraphale liked his books.
He liked reading them alone in his bookshop.
But he liked them best when Crowley was there to turn the pages for him.
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harmonysanreads · 1 year
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Thinking about Yandere!Sumeru Boys and the sweet, lovely bartender who's become the talk of Sumeru recently.
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After receiving the news of the Sage's downfall and Lesser Lord Kusanali's rescue, you, who'd been out venturing Teyvat to learn about its global gastronomy and arts, decide to return to your homeland and help your father's busy Tavern. The knowledge you've gained from your travels prove to be fruitful as Lambad's Tavern reaches a new peak of popularity. Though, not everyone's point of interest is the menu — no no, in fact, many have become frequent patrons simply to get a glimpse of the new face behind the counter.
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You and Kaveh click almost immediately. Your shared views on arts and beauty is one thing checked off, but the way your actually understand him? Unlike most people when they hear his story, you're not quick to put a lable on him ; instead, you make him feel heard and normal for the very first time. Listen patiently and don't throw factual advice on how to fix his life. No wonder he poured out his entire life story to you, all on his first conversation. He's left wondering where you've been all his life as you share a portion of your own struggles, views on life and snippets of your adventures. To this day, Kaveh recalls the conversation along with your benign smile and feels his heart thump as if he's become a teenager again.
Every ensuing visit to the Tavern has his belief strengthen as well : you two must be soulmates. He's even started (half) jokingly calling you one as well, which never seems to move you the way he wants though as, all you do is adorably giggle and ask him to pay for his order. Oh well, he supposes that's an indication that you do not pity him solely because of his financial status. Kaveh's life had gotten a lot better with your presence ; he no longer drinks himself to oblivion, sleeps better than before and doesn't even pay heed to his roommate's sharp comments that'd otherwise end in a massive argument, thoughts preoccupied with what kind of trinket he could bring to impress you. For a brief period, Kaveh had felt like he'd finally found his light, his reason to keep living. He'd only wish he hadn't introduced his friends to you.
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You first ‘officially’ met the dusty-rock-of-a-roommate of Kaveh (his words) when you took the responsibility of dropping him to his place of residence after the architect had passed out from taking a sip of the Sneznayan Fire-Water. You weren't sure what you were expecting from Alhaitham, but a talk over books that spiralled a little too late into the night and ended with him walking you back home certainly wasn't it. You can see where Kaveh came from, The Acting Grand Sage did not have the countenance that invited friendships. You'll have to thank your profound interest in all genres of books and an equal ease to share your opinions to not be at the recipient of that attitude. It takes you a little too much time to notice that since that night, the Scribe has found himself a second home in your radar. You see him at Puspa Cafe, the Grand Bazar, the streets and after a little while, even at your father's Tavern almost frequently. So much so, that calling him something of a friend might not be as far-fetched now.
In Alhaitham's defense, he's simply intrigued, it's not everyday he meets someone who can keep up with him. It took him only a glance at you to realize you're the person who has Kaveh blushing and giggling like a madman at random times. The architect's creepy behavior aside, at least, it seemed as though some of your sense of responsibility had rubbed off on him so, less headache for Alhaitham. You're easy to talk to ; granted, you don't always have agreements but that doesn't pose as an impediment from keeping the conversation flowing. In fact, you treat him no different ; neither his status nor his prolonged disappearances that'd no doubt affect anyone else can change your easygoing persona as he approaches you, the coffee and dishes you make are rather good too and— ah. Alhaitham understands now why Kaveh is so smitten with you.
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Lambad's Tavern is a prominent destination for fans of Genius Invocation TCG, you like the game, too. But because of your duty, you can only resign yourself to watching from the counter as some rejoiced in victory and others had their heads in their hands from loss. It's entertaining to a degree, frustrating to another as you have to remain silent while the players make dumb choices. You digress, whatever they do is none of your business. But if you had to pick one group that produced the most entertaining show out of this game ; it'd be the friends Kaveh brought along with him. Most of the times, they'd just be reduced to Kaveh's ranting pillows and really, only one of them—and by that you mean the General Mahamatra who seemed to truly care for the game. You're curious about him, actually. He seemed so different from the rumours that were floating around. And thanks to Kaveh's impulsive announcement that you'd be dueling Cyno one night, you had the opportunity to satiate that curiousity — and flex a win against the master of TCG altogether.
To say Cyno was flabbergasted would be the understatement of the century. He'd repeatedly demanded for a second match that time (all the while Kaveh looked like he could die of pride) but you'd shut it off with the (not really) threat of charging extra for your lost time. Since then, he'd been hot on your tail, too. Trying to coax you into a second match with every strategy he can think of : bribing, bargaining, cracking awful jokes to befriend you — his hard work paid off, but the sight of a win against you still seemed to be far. At one point, those concerns were lost as you both simply found fun in each other's presence. Cyno, in the meantime, had noticed that your amiable personality was both a blessing and a curse. Do you not see the corrupt glints in their eyes? The wanton touches and disgusting saccharine lacing their words? No can do, they do not deserve your courtesy. Do not blame him for taking matters into his own accounts or show any semblance of concern after the personnel mysteriously disappear the next day ; its just a little favor for his TCG buddy.
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Out of all of them, Tighnari took you the longest to get to know properly. Given his usually passive personality in the presence of others, no wonder he'd strayed a little from your attention. The forest ranger wasn't behind in knowing you, though. In fact, it seemed as though he had been picking up on clues his other friends were missing. Tighnari had been the first to take notice of your ennui, which he had surmised to be a result of all the people you have to deal with everyday. Turns out even you have your moments. One evening as Kaveh, Cyno and Alhaitham were preoccupied with debating over who-knows-what, Tighnari took the opportunity to approach you about it. He couldn't ignore the darkening circles under your eyes or the brightness in your optics dimming any longer — he's glad he did ; in truth, your life had gotten crazier than it was back when you were traveling, you'd confessed. You no longer felt truly...alone, even in moments that you're sure is securely private. Tighnari listened intently, for once the roles being switched. He sent hand-made remedies to help with your stress, frequently wrote to you to check your well being when he couldn't visit personally, anything within his power.
He felt sympathy for your state, such a precious person like you doesn't deserve this, you should be treated better, he could treat you better — now if only you're at arms reach to the forest ranger. Alas, for now he'd have to be content with this development. Tighnari has an inkling about who is, or are, responsible for your building misery. Does he intent to do anything with that knowledge though? Yes, coaxing you to his side, preferably.
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The innocent, nameless wandering boy you'd taken with you on your return to Sumeru, suddenly returned home with a glowing anemo vision in the span of a few hours one fine afternoon. Nothing really seemed out of the ordinary though, he was still as glued to your person (though nowadays he seemed to venture out more than usual), he was still the harmless boy you'd grown accustomed to. So then, why did it feel like something was amiss? Was it how often he'd find himself at the brink of an angry customer's fist? Or was it because that only occurs when you leave the counter to get something and that same customer just so happened to have been pushing you for a date beforehand? Your suspicions always end up fleeting though, you can never even raise an eyebrow at the boy, not when he looks at you with those glossy puppy eyes. In the end, it's always the other man that's handed over to the guards, it's always the others, in general at the face of your displeasure — not Wanderer, never Wanderer. If only you could see the same grin he directs at the retreating men behind your unassuming back.
You never did regret letting him trail behind your person (except maybe the bombarding allegations from your family of him being your significant other, it took one whole week to convince them otherwise, after all.) ; he was sweet and so.. clueless, as if he were but a newborn child. Your heart couldn't resist the poor thing and that's what brought you to this situation. Wanderer revels in the others' jealousy at the sight of you two's closeness (who could guess this same man had tried to take over Sumeru). He can do many of the things your other admirers can only dream of ; lean on your shoulder, fall asleep on your lap, play with your hair as you prepare a drink, whisper things in your ear with a purposefully lowered voice and get away with anything. All is well with the lost boy you'd picked up from the last turn of your travels, it's just that, you can't quite shake off the feeling of a strange familiarity everytime you look at his otherwordly eyes.
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what do you call this? a love hexagon? 🤔
[ au masterlist ]
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