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[cutehoons02]

For me he's only a rival or something else for my heart?

University series: Jake Heeseung Jay

*pairing: Popular pervy student Jungwon x Good girl

*trope: Rivals to lovers

*synopsis: What if the best student in the course was put to work with one of the most popular students? A catastrophe for Y/n, she and Jungwon are so different in everything: Jungwon is one of the most popular kids at the university, he’s so cheeky and takes life too lightly, and for Y/n is the distraction representation. The good girl only thinks about finishing her studies in places from her parents and is a little hesitant about Jungwon’s personality, but what would happen when their two worlds meet and for 4 months they will have to study and spend many hours to create a university project?

*tags: A lot of humor, Jungwon proposes: that he wants to make her relax after each study session (sexual distraction), unprotected sex (don't horny ppl), tension, oral sex (f.m receiving) fingering,corruption, hickeys, fluff, orgasm,possessive Jungwon, pet names (nerd, good girl,honey,sweetnees,princess) +16

8k (📘)

(English is not my first language)

The study room was bright and almost aseptic, perfect for working and studying in peace. But after only 10 minutes, you were already at the end of your patience.

Jungwon was late of course!

You were a model, disciplined student, always in the front row, with impeccable notebooks and a natural distrust of people too charismatic like Jungwon, who made trouble from morning to night. When you saw it, you thought it was "too perfect" not to hide some defect and didn't understand how it always had its head in the clouds, but being like you, one of the best students in the course.

Jungwon was the perfect boy, both academically and socially. He was part of the Taekwondo team, the girls loved him, he had a huge fan base, and the professors appreciated him. He didn’t try too hard to get good results, but he was always one step ahead and had that feline look: smart, quick, and mysterious.

During a management seminar for the Hoteleri, the professor announced that you two would be partners in a project that was worth 50% of the final grade. You would have to work together for four months and submit a paper that not only met the academic criteria but was innovative and creative and at the end of the course it would be put in your student and work CV to take more credits at the end of the degree.

You looked at the clock and mumbled loudly: "10 minutes late who knows what excuse will come up this time. It’s typical of Jungwon to arrive late but get away with it only because of that pretty face, when you’re so perfect you probably think the time of others doesn’t matter." you thought.

The door opened, and Jungwon made his entrance with the nonchalance of being at home everywhere. Casual jacket over a flawless white shirt, hair that looked just like it had been taken care of by the wind, cat eyes that looked at you from head to toe, and his usual cheeky smile. He carried two cappuccinos and a croissant.

With a satisfied smile, ignoring your murderous look, he put a glass in front of you from the bar of the university, and after a while, he stretched out like a cat and saw his shirt stand up and your cheeks were slightly colored when you saw his perfect V line and his perfect muscles in beautiful shows for long hours spent training. «Sorry, the barista was slow. Do you want a piece of croissant? It’s buttery to the point! I got you a cappuccino not knowing what you like, i also added sugar to make it sweeter»

You stared at him like he was an alien.

"Sure, because breakfast is more important than the project that is worth half of our final grade to be late for our first study appointment and i don’t like things too sweet for anything."

Jungwon looked at you with a slight grin « A man must feed himself and my favorite meal is breakfast in all senses both sweet and savory. If you may be interested, my plan for the project is already all here in my head, i had to deduce myself that you were a lover of things bitter or sour as your personality but for once you can make an effort and drink this sweet cappuccino just right to sweeten you»

You leaned forward, crossing your arms on the table and gazing at him with a murderous look.

"Oh? So you think your genius boy brain is gonna win us all without having to do anything? And stop saying i’m sour, you’ve arrived late with your usual smile of serial charmer"

«I don’t like to brag, but... yes. In my beautiful head i have a lot of ideas that could work, just relax a little you are always so tense and serious in everything you do, honey»

You bit your tongue to not answer immediately. But in the end, you clattered.

"You know what I don’t understand about you, Jungwon? How do you get such high grades when you don’t seem to take anything seriously and don't call me sweetie, I’m not a fan of yours or one of those girls who would pull their hair out to get your attention"

Jungwon leaning against the chair’s back, with a sneering smile

«It’s a natural talent. And then, maybe the professor appreciates my relaxed style. You should try to relax sometimes there are so many things you could try!»

Closed your laptop with a strong blow and Jungwon looked at you with a small smile

"God, you are impossible how do you get so full of yourself? Here’s the plan: we’ll work together, but I’ll make the planning. You follow the instructions, no improvising, no distractions, and no provocations"

Jungwon stood at the table and looked at you with a diabolical smile «Distractions? You are the one who seems distracted, I saw how you looked at my muscles before or how you’re blushing now while I’m near you with my face»

You blushed imperceptibly, but you quickly recovered and left the study room angry; why of all people had to put you in a pair with him? Jungwon watches you leave, with a satisfied smile. He knows that he has the potential to test your perfection and enjoys this new challenge with you.

The men’s dorm was noisier than you had anticipated. Although it was only five o'clock in the afternoon, laughter could be heard from a room next door, the distant sound of a video game, and someone singing in the shower. It was chaotic, suffocating, and exactly the kind of place you didn’t want to be. Jungwon greeted you at the door with his usual cheeky smile, dressed in a relaxed way: a grey sweatshirt and suit pants that made him look even more casually perfect and with his usual cat eyes that never detached from your body.

"I can’t believe i wasted precious time to come here. We could just work in the library."

Jungwon closed the door behind you leaning against it

«The library is boring. And then, i wanted to show you that i’m good at working even in the middle of chaos you know as a normal person.»

You looked around, noticing the perfectly made bed, the books stacked neatly on the desk, and a pair of headphones hanging from the edge of the computer monitor, There were some records from current and former artists and there was a smell of clean and vanilla that invaded the whole room and was much more neat than you expected.

"For a male dormitory, it’s surprisingly... clean and fragrant."

Jungwon raised a funny eyebrow «What did you think? That I was a mess and lived in dirt? I let you down again, huh?»

You looked up and sat down in the chair by the desk, trying to ignore the way he moved around the room with a cat-like naturalness, as if he was always in complete control of the situation.

After an hour of discussing, it was clear that working there wasn’t going as planned you kept talking, explaining details and strategies but Jungwon seemed more interested in watching you than taking notes.

You were really exasperated and snapped your fingers near his face "Jungwon, are you listening or waiting for me to do all the work for you?"

Jungwon chuckled sitting on the bed with a bent knee

«I listen to you. You’re charming when you get angry, you know?»

You stared at him, but he got up from his bed and leaned over the desk with one hand on the table. He was too close and you felt it immediately: his scent, his piercing look, the way he seemed to enjoy making you uncomfortable.

You backed slightly back into the chair "Don’t try to distract me we have a lot to do."

He looked at you with a cheeky smile «Distract? I would never do that but you know, i think, i have found a solution to our problem»

You looked at him suspiciously, crossing your arms.

"And what is this brilliant idea of yours?"

Jungwon lowered the tone of his voice, with a more sweet and provocative nuance «You put aside your obsession to be the best... Just for these sessions. And i make sure you relax. Physically and mentally»

You immediately blush with your mouth open for surprise.

"What.. what do you mean 'physically'?"

Jungwon giggled, raising a finger to touch your chin slightly «Nothing too compromising, but if you want we could raise the bar just a little is a way to let you off a bit and to make you understand that there are much more beautiful things besides the study. Like a kiss or two, maybe a hug, i could make you feel good with my fingers, you might shoulder or hair massage, but we could make each other feel good to each other. It depends on how tense you are that day, sweetness»

You opened your eyes wide, torn between indignation and...something different something you didn’t want to admit. You stood up, trying to keep calm.

"That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. I don’t need... you to relax. I don’t even like you and I just think you’re a pervert and that’s it."

Jungwon smiled, coming close enough to make you feel the warmth of his body «Are you sure? Because you already seem less nervous now.»

Your heart was beating faster, but you refused to let it control you.

"You are unbearable."

Jungwon laughed slowly, tilting his head like a satisfied cat

«Yet you are still here»

He reached out his hand, gently brushing a lock of hair that had fallen on your face you held your breath, your face red, but you did not move «Hey, I’m kidding... partly. I know you are wonderfully good at what you do but maybe that’s the problem you’re too focused on showing it to everyone when you don’t have to do it with me, you can be yourself»

You looked at him with surprise at the sincerity in his voice.

"It’s not so simple for me, we can come back for another hour to study the project and then if i feel comfortable we may not know how to do" Jungwon with a sweet smile, moved slightly back.

«I know. For this i want to help you, we go back to study a little bit nerd but then i want to make you relax a little and put you at ease sweet»

It was almost an hour and a half ago when you had started to throw ideas down again and he had been surprisingly helpful, but after a while, his attention began to fade. Without saying anything, he got up and went to his computer, turning it on with a grin.

You looked up from the confused book "Jungwon, what are you doing?" Jungwon with a cool touch and a mouse movement opened a video game «I’m taking a break. You know, the brain needs to relax every now and then»

"Pause? We’re trying to get a major project going, and you think about video games?"

Jungwon turned to the chair, with an innocent expression: «Hey, what did we say before? I want you to relax. Also, I see you tense as a violin string and it’s been almost 3 hours that we are throwing down our ideas, now enough and come here» You looked at him suspiciously "Why should i come there? There’s only one chair"

Jungwon waving and turning the chair slightly made room for you «Come here and sit on my legs»

Your heart began to beat faster. You were furious, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of showing himself intimidated and with a deep breath, you stood up and walked towards him, trying to keep an impassive expression.

You crossed your arms, standing in front of him "If you think this is a way to relax me, you’re wrong, Jungwon"

Jungwon raised an eyebrow, tilting his head with his usual cat smile« I’m sure i’ll help to relax a bit. Trust me, sweetness»

Slowly youy sat over his legs trying to keep a distance, but Jungwon gently pulled you closer by leaning your back against his chest.

"What now? You gonna play while i stay here as a decoration?" Jungwon laughed quietly, lowering his head near your ear

«Not really» Then, with a naturalness that left you breathless, Jungwon touched your neck with a light kiss, and with his fingers moved slightly a handful of hair on your shoulder should not have intended to kiss you and as a feline sniffed your neck and laid gentle kisses and his big braver smitten you to him.

You whispered slightly, trying to get away not so much because you were annoyed by his kisses or rather they were pleasant but because they made you feel a lot of chills and slight tickling. " Jungwon, what are you doing?"

Jungwon with a mischievous smile continued to give you little kisses on the neck « I’m just relaxing...and trying to relax you. Try to close your eyes and trust me for once, sweetness»

Closed your eyes as he told you and with a voice that trembled slightly, but tried to keep control you said "This is not... professional."

Jungwon started laughing slowly, this time sliding his hands over your hips without squeezing too much «Oh, let’s face it, you’re enjoying it. Don’t look so tense now.» Blush, trying not to give in but unable to hide a small smile. " You’re amazing, you always do what you want, right?" Jungwon finished the session of those little kisses he leaned his chin on your shoulder, with a satisfied smile « Only with you sweetie. But you know what? When you relax a little, you’re even more adorable.»

You looked up but did not move from his legs to get away from him. As much as you hated to admit it, Jungwon knew exactly how to surprise you and at the same time make you feel safe. That night, his plan to distract you worked perfectly.

It was late afternoon and Jungwon arrived on time at the girl’s bedroom door, which in itself was an extraordinary event, and knocked twice, waiting with his usual smile.

When the door opened, he was surprised. The room was a perfect reflection of something you would never expect from yourself: walls decorated with vintage posters of fashion icons, shelves full of glossy magazines, an electronic keyboard near the window and a sewing mannequin in a corner covered with unfinished fabric, and on display were the course books.

«Wow, and I thought all you wanted to do was be the best in class. What is this? Your secret side as an artist? When you told me that you wanted to study in your room I thought "Cabbage will kill me"»

You blush slightly as you close the door behind him. "You might still risk Jungwon. It’s not a secret, I just don’t talk about it. It’s not important for the class, so..."

Jungwon approached the dummy and observed it with curiosity

«Isn’t it important? You make it seem like nothing is important but studying. But this is amazing I bet you’re good at that too, huh?»

You shrugged, trying to hide the embarrassment "I’m not as good as you think. It’s just a hobby, can we start transcribing the various areas where we would like to develop our hotels?"

Jungwon chuckled as she sat down on the chair by the bed and you leaned in your bed

«Always so serious. All right, boss tell me what to do!»

For a couple of hours, something unusual happened: you really studied, obviously Jungwon loved to throw you jokes about how methodical you were with all your notes and you would tease him because he was very messy with his ideas but he loved that mess and understood. You worked on the project with a surprising understanding, almost forgetting the tension that usually accompanied you. But Jungwon looked at you with his languid gaze, a mix of curiosity and mischief.

When you finished studying without wanting to, you stretched and the sweater just lifted up, revealing a hint of light skin over the jeans. Jungwon tilted his head as a cat would be fascinated by something he could not ignore.

«You must relax a little,» he said in a low voice, almost a whisper.

You are slightly distracted, looking at him with suspicion. "I’m fine."

«You don’t look well. You seem stressed and if you relax you concentrate better. Want an example?» You saw Jungwon get up from the chair and lean on the edge of your bed where you were sitting with crossed legs

You looked at him confused and with a slight redness on the cheeks. "Jungwon"

He didn’t answer. He just put a hand to your face, moving a lock of hair behind his ear. His eyes never left yours and that simple touch made you shudder.

«Don’t run away» whispered, his voice a hypnotic call.

Before you could protest, Jungwon touched your lips with his, so gently that it almost seemed like a dream. But he didn’t stop there, his hand moved on your neck holding you with surprisingly gentle firmness, while the kiss instead deepened becoming slower, more intense, and in the room there were only the sounds of your mouths touching and the rain that was beating hard against the windows.

You found yourself answering him without thinking your hands clung to his sweater, Subconsciously pulling him closer and you felt a slight groan from your mouth as he put his tongue into your mouth and you strapped your arms around his neck to keep it closer to you. Jungwon smiled when he heard that little moan and would hear it for the rest of his life.

When you separated, you both had heavy breaths and he smiled at you with his usual cheeky smile, that typical satisfied cat expression.

«See? It’s not so bad to relax every now and then! You want us to continue kissing or we could do something else, always with your consent and with your sweet times» Watched Jungwon take off his sweatshirt and stay with a black t-shirt that made his muscles and biceps stand out

You hit him lightly on the chest, but he couldn’t hold back a small smile. "What would you like to do?"

Jungwon looked at you with a curious look, god how could you ask them such a question? He would do a lot of dirty things with your body but you were so innocent in his eyes that he would treat you like a princess but at the same time he would want to ruin you completely.

«Take off my shirt and try to find out what makes me horny» You watched Jungwon lean on your keyboard and you with slightly cold hands but not trembling took off his black shirt that made his muscles visible and when you took it off a thin but sculpted chest was in front of your eyes and without doing so you lick slightly the lips that still knew from your strawberry lip balm and Jungwon.

«Do you like what you see, sweetie?» He asked knowing that even if you were shy and innocent you could not say that what you had in front of you did not like, you reached out to trace his toned muscles, His abs seemed to form toned valleys until you reached her V line and felt Jungwon tremble slightly both for your light touch but also because your hands were slightly cold and looked at you this time with a serious look.

"Can I. Can I touch you, Jungwon?" Jungwon laughed a little when you asked him but he immediately nodded yes and raised his hips slightly because he thought that you only took off his pants all the way with your fingers, you also slid the boxer shorts and saw his venous length already sticking out standing up fairly, Jungwon hissed when you touch it there, the sensation overwhelming him like electricity as your soft hands contrast with the venous muscle.

«God Y/n, it didn’t have to go so i had to be the one that made you relax not you» You started with a good cat lick on his dick and with his hand flying to hold your hair for you, wrapping it around her wrist like a ponytail. He wanted to be careful and kind, and not scare you but when he heard and saw that you started putting almost everything in his mouth a slight moan came out of his lips, and looked at you with the head saying yes to continue. Your mind is overwhelmed by the way his tip presses down the bottom of your throat and how your pussy felt excited and you felt that your panties became wetter and wetter as Jungwon slowly pushed his cock into your mouth, his big hand never stopped caressing your hair.

«Y/n» his breath stops, he was delighted to see you so busy making him feel good and it was a feeling of well-being but also of perversion for him because even the good girl who did not want distractions stooped to make him feel good by giving them a blow job, the urge to push you even further down on his cock blossoms in his mind but he puts it aside as he looks at his dear, sweet rival bent in bed sucking his dick.

«Honey, you can stop now seriously you have already done too much for me» feeling bad for yourself.

You can shake your head and insist that you could take much more and make him relax. You relax your throat a little, breathing through your nose as you push it deeper; Jungwon groans at the action, and his hips are wailing and pushing awkwardly. Do your best to satisfy him, until he leaves a whiny mess as he reaches his orgasm moaning softly your name, lost in its world of pleasure while you struggle to not choke and spit the liquid that goes down your throat until you swallow it all in your mouth. You raised your head to see him completely red, with the hair unkempt, and pulled you to yourself putting you embraced beside him with his big arms.

"You liked..." Didn’t even finish the sentence and gave you a light kiss on the lips, then on his forehead, and looked at you with a sweet smile until you heard a loud thunder coming from outside the light went away for a few seconds and there were only your breaths that could be felt.

«I liked it and also very much Y/n, who would have said that you were so entrapping and seems that the time has decided to do me another favor, sweetness» commented with his usual relaxed tone, but with a glimmer of malice in his eyes.

"What favor?" You asked without turning away from the window.

«Force me to stay here for the night» he replied shrugging his shoulders and you shoot yourself. "What? Don’t even think about... staying here! You can go home."

Jungwon raised a funny eyebrow as he hugged you even more to himself. «With this storm? Look at the weather Y/n, do you really want me to catch a cold and then you have to double the work for the project? I could get a lot of bad things with time like the kind that makes me drive by some distracted motorist»

You looked up because these were only excuses that he invented to be with you and invade your living space.

"Okay, but don’t you dare do anything weird," Jungwon nodded with an innocent smile and watched you go to the bathroom to change.

You were quiet in your bed, flowing through the various social media until Jungwon came out of the bathroom with his black shirt and his tracksuit pants on and lay down next to you as if it was the most natural thing in the world «It’s funny, you try to be a good girl and be my rival n*1 but you are playing with fire by inviting me here. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?»

You just turned with your faces only a few inches apart. "Maybe I’m not as predictable as you think."

The answer made him smile, but this time the smile was different: deeper, he put a hand gently on your waist, bringing you even closer to his toned chest. «And anyway... you’re still too tense. Let me hug you, at least for one night»

The following week during one of the working sessions, a senior boy came to supervise the progress of the project. He was tall and confident with a charismatic smile, the classic type who did not go unnoticed and Jungwon looked up when he saw Minjae enter your study room.

<< Oh, you two are the ones from the hotel management project I heard a lot of good things about your duo especially about you Y/n>> said Minjae looking at the documents scattered on the desk. You smiled at him and looked at you from the head to the foot and you looked at him softly so as not to appear timid and awkward.

"Yes, we are working on the marketing and area management plan for hotels in different parts of the world. It’s a bit challenging, but we’re getting there and working day by day."

<< Well, if you need help, you can count on me>> said Minjae winking at you, and when he stepped out to see what you were typing on the computer, he put a hand on your shoulder with a gesture that seemed random but didn’t go unnoticed by Jungwon.

He was sitting in front of you and at that moment stopped writing. His eyes slowly rose towards Minjae, a look that was not very friendly.

«I think we do very well even alone, we are the best of the course and they put us together in pairs to surprise everyone with our ideas a little bit conflicting but it will come out really a nice job,» said Jungwon with the tone of cold but controlled.

Minjae chuckled. << No need to be so protective and territorial. I’m just trying to lend a hand>>

«Yes, but we didn’t ask for your help even if you are our supervisor I repeat we’re doing a good job» replied Jungwon, crossing his arms.

You stepped in quickly, trying to calm the tension. "All right, guys. Minjae, thanks for the offer. If we need you, we’ll let you know but right now as Jungwon says we’re really at a good point of work."

Minjae smiled at you, ignoring Jungwon. << Sure. But if you have any problems or issues to talk about...>> paused, lowering the tone of voice, << you can contact me also after hours. >>

Jungwon stood up slowly, putting his hands on the table. «Minjae, I don’t think your advice is so necessary.» Jungwon made a sign of his head to Minjae to leave and raised his hands as a sign of surrender

<< Relax, Jungwon," said Minjae with a smile. <<You don’t have to be like that... I repeat "territorial">>

Minjae left after a while and you watched Jungwon touch his hair and roll his eyes. "What the hell was that? Why were you so hostile to him?" Jungwon laughed for a moment and looked at you with a slightly angry look

«Don’t pretend to be dumb Y/n» he replied, approaching your body and sitting in the chair next to yours «That loser was clearly hitting on you.»

You shook your head a little amused. "So? He was just nice, there’s no need to make a scene like the one you made earlier."

«Kind of you?» he repeated, laughing bitterly and touching your cheek slightly to gently put a lock of hair in your ear

«Honey, there’s nothing kind about the way he looked at you. And if you think I’m going to stand here watching someone else hover around you, you’re wrong.»

You crossed your arms, trying to keep control of the situation. "You’re not my boyfriend, Jungwon. You can’t decide who talks to me or what I do with other guys when all this is over I can do whatever I want."

Your words struck him, but instead of getting angry, his smile changed. It was more dangerous now as if something inside him had snapped.

«Oh, really?» he asked, approaching to reduce the space between you a few centimeters. «So I can afford to show you that you don’t need anyone else, right?» Before you could answer, Jungwon took the chair you were sitting in and pulled it toward himself with a determined movement. His hands were attached to your thighs, firm but not aggressive, and the way he looked at you was intense and overwhelming.

"Jungwon..." you started talking but he interrupted you by putting his finger in front of your lips

«Tell me you don’t want this» whispered, the tone of his voice deep and hypnotic as he approached your neck «Tell me that you don’t like it when I am like this with you»

You could not answer and at that moment he lowered his head, his lips finding your neck with disarming security. The kiss was not gentle, it was bold, possessive, and made you shudder.

«You mustn’t play with me, honey» he continued, his hands now moving along your back tracing slow lines that made you tremble. «Because I will never play clean with you.»

He continued to kiss your thin neck but this time with more fervor and slightly sucked a part of your sensitive neck and moaned his name and drew him closer to you and felt his hand make little circles in your thigh, It was totally dangerous what you were doing because you were in public and when you realized this thing you pushed him slightly but only to look into his eyes, short breath and red cheeks. "You’re impossible, Jungwon" you mumbled

«Yes» he replied, smiling before kissing you on your lips this time with a passion that left you breathless, it was as if he wanted to show you at that moment that there was no one else who could make you feel like that.

When you sat down, you looked at him with eyes still full of wonder. You weren’t sure how you got into that situation, but one thing was certain: you liked the way it made you feel.

It had been a few weeks since Jungwon’s alleged jealousy towards Minjae and now that jealousy was coming back when he saw Minjae supervising your project but the problem was that he wasn’t looking after Jungwon as if it didn’t exist but only Y/n.

<< Really impressive work you’ve done so far>> said Minjae, leaning towards you. << I understand why everyone says you are one of the brightest students in the class. With a talent like yours, you could get anywhere in the hotel world and I would see you as a luxury property manager. And... maybe if you need some guidance, we could work together after this project or I could mentor you for your final thesis. >>

You blush slightly but try to keep control and be professional because you don’t like the flattery that Minjae is giving you. "Thank you, I’ll think about it but now I think our teamwork with Jungwon is going very well and I think it will bring us both good grades and nice references from the professors" Jungwon was slightly surprised to hear good things about him from you, Your n*1 rival was the one to tell it all.

<< Oh, sure your work is going great, you need some tricks but surely tomorrow with your presentation you will make a beautiful figure>> said Minjae, casting a fleeting glance at Jungwon, who was observing the scene in silence. << But you know, with someone more experienced, you could get much more. I could teach you techniques that go far beyond what you’re learning now>>

His words had a subtone that left no room for misunderstanding. Minjae came closer, almost invading your personal space, and he put a light hand on your arm. << If you want, we could discuss your ideas better... maybe over a coffee, just you and me. >> You looked at Jungwon with a straight jaw and slightly red cheeks

"Ehm, thank you so much seriously but now I’m only focused on the project with Jungwon, and" Jungwon moved before you kept answering. He rose from his seat, grasping Minjae’s wrist with a firm but controlled grip.

«I think you’ve said enough, she’s trying to tell you in a polite way that she doesn’t care about you and even your provocations of spending time with her don’t interest her,» Jungwon said, the low tone and tension-laden.

Minjae stared at him, trying to maintain an air of superiority. << I’m just trying to be helpful. No need to overdo it and I repeat as the last time to be so territorial with Y/n>

Jungwon took a step forward, forcing Minjae to take a step back. «Your help is not needed. And I don’t think she’s appreciating the way you’re behaving with her»

Looking at Jungwon with a little smile "Jungwon, it’s all right. We can"

«No» he interrupted her, without taking his eyes off Minjae. «Everything is not all right»

After Minjae left, Jungwon was still furious. The tension in his body was palpable and you didn’t know how to handle it.

“You shouldn’t have behaved like that, I can defend myself you know how many girls have to endure these things every day?” said trying to keep calm and make him reason

Your words seemed to break something inside him. Jungwon came quickly, his eyes dark with dangerous determination.

«Sit down at the desk,Y/n» he said in a low voice.

"Jungwon, I" He gave you a provocative look and you sat down at the desk marrying some books. His eyes were nailed in yours, and you felt your heart beating hard. «You are mine. You know that, don’t you? And now I will make you say I don’t know how many times my name so you’ll remember and I’ll make you come between my dicks and lick your sweet pussy so you’ll understand who belongs to»

You don’t know exactly how it happened, but the next thing you know his fingers finally land on your covered clitoris. Rub some delicate circles, fast and precise, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. «Shit, you’re so wet to me and you still have your panties attached, let’s see if there are already some little strands of your excitement sweetness» The tip of his finger grasps the hem of your not-so-clean panties and Jungwon seriously wanted to know why you were wearing slutty panties if you were being a good girl and you are complaining in your throat about the slight cold that you felt because of the desk below you.

With your legs lightly thrown on Jungwon’s shoulders, his head buried between your thighs, his tongue immediately got to work kissing your pussy everywhere. His tongue moves around your core so fucking well, alternating sucking and clicking on your clitoris to pushing and licking inside your pussy, your unacceptably sinful and delicious sounds were a joy to the ears of your rival n*1.

"Jungwon, pls is so beautiful but at the same time sick we are in public" You tried to hold yourself with your elbows on the desk, and with the other hand, you pulled slightly the tuft of Jungwon that was slightly tickling your body. «You are lucky that there is no one left at this time otherwise what people would think of hearing your moans and irregular breathing. Speak Y/n, otherwise, I stop what would they think?» was literally squeezing and torturing you with his tongue constricted in your pussy and a finger stuck into your clit to massage it.

"They would have thought that maybe I’m not such a good girl" A light laugh came out of Jungwon’s lips and said «Good girl» closes his eyes and enjoys your delicious juice flowing in her mouth, Groaning in your pussy as it is fucking nice to have you so vulnerable and cheeky while you are waving for the various sensations that you feel but it was not yet finished because after a few seconds two fingers entered inside of you, already starting with an unforgivable rhythm, By curling them and finding that spot in you easily.

When you came between his fingers it detached from you both had breathless breath. Jungwon took your face in his hands, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs.

«I will never leave you to someone like him,» he said, his voice soft but still. You smile slightly with your heart beating wildly. "I didn’t think you were so jealous."

«With you?» he replied, his tone that only softened slightly. «I will always be. We go to my dorm to finish fixing the last few tricks that tomorrow our presentation must be perfect, sweetness»

The rain kept on beating against the window panes, creating an almost hypnotic background. After the scene with Minjae, the tension between you was palpable. It was 10 o'clock past and you had reviewed the project at least 3 times and Jungwon didn’t leave you alone for a moment, as if he wanted to reiterate that you belonged to him, and no one else.

When you had finished the project you wanted to keep a minimum distance, but Jungwon had other plans.

«Why are you avoiding my gaze?» he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking at you with that feline and piercing look.

"I’m not avoiding anything" lying by arranging the project documents with shaky hands and red cheeks

«You’re not very good at lying, princess» he replied in a low voice. «You’re wondering what’s going to happen now, aren’t you?»

You stopped by biting your lip. "Jungwon, we can’t..." You began but you hushed when he stood up, approaching you with slow but determined steps.

«We can’t what?» he asked, tilting his head slightly as a curious cat would. «Can’t we be together? Can’t we do what we both have wanted to do for weeks?»

His voice was a whisper now, and the way he looked at you made you feel trapped, but you didn’t want to run. When he took your face in his hands, his thumbs gently caressed his cheeks, your heart seemed to want to go out of your chest.

«I don’t want to share you,» he said in a strong tone. «Not with Minjae, not with anyone else. You’re mine, understand? And now I’ll make you understand even more»

You didn’t answer, but when he kissed you, it was impossible for you to back out. There was too much passion, too much intensity, and you knew that at that moment you were completely giving up.

Jungwon’s hands reached your legs pulling them towards him, before reaching with his arms behind your chest and lifting you like a Koala, and a part of your mind flashed thinking how strong it was, how easily it could lift you up, and how easily it could make you feel good. He dragged you to his bed, laying down where there were his pillows and your eyes waved towards him his look was feline, and looked at you as if you were only his and no one else’s, «I can show you that you are mine, and i’m yours, Y/n?» He leaned down on your neck and before moving his head towards your ear began to kiss you and suck the area that he knew was sensitive, his breath tickled your skin as he continued «Use words, princess» A shiver ran down your back, a trembling breath left your lips as your body finally forced the words out, "Yes. please".

Jungwon smiled when he heard those words coming out of your mouth his lips were so soft They moved slowly against yours as she tilted your head slightly to better access your sweet mouth that she knew from lip balm to strawberry and the contrast of her mouth that still tasted like the chocolate cookie she had eaten before. A slight whimper slipped over your lips, your hands rose to wrap around his shoulders and immediately went to lightly tighten his hair when you felt him wringing around your suit pants with his cock around your center; His hand that was on your jaw moved along your body, His fingers played with the hem of your shirt before he pushed his hand down slowly and took it off you and left only with your bra and even that in a few seconds left your body and began to torture you the bud of your nipple with his mouth and with his teeth and with the other hand she lightly squeezed your other breast.

«God, this body is perfectly made for me» You had Jungwon take off his shirt as well, you didn’t know where to put your hands, they were going from his shoulder, to his hair, to his biceps, a gasp left Jungwon’s lips to the feeling of your cold hands on his warm stomach. Jolts, whimpers, and little moans came out of your lips as he kept giving you pleasure in both breasts, he only moved away slightly but his hand kept on squeezing and stroking the other breast while mumbling, «You’re so beautiful fuck.»

"more," you whined, any appropriate response was now far from your mind because you felt so good with Jungwon, he leaned back and left a kiss trail along your breast, in your belly as his hands roamed before finally resting on the edge of your suit, «Lift up your hips for me for a moment, princess»

You slightly push your hips giving him a way to slowly lower your suit and panties. «You’re even soaker than before t/n, fuck.» You were seriously embarrassed and slightly covered your face with your hands but when he looked at you gave you a little kiss on the forehead «Don’t hide from me, I have already come a few hours ago and with me you can be safe and show yourself for what you are Y/n, relax.» one of his fingers slipped between your folds, a sudden jolt left you, he put two other fingers inside you, starting to pump them, curling them and easily finding that point in you that made you crazy.

You shouted Jungwon’s name and thought that this time you were seriously ready to take his cock, he made you come and tease yourself a little more clipboard and you raised your hips as sensitive as you were, Splashes of slimy cum went around Jungwon’s fingers and when he pulled out from your pussy he showed you that he brought it to his tongue and sucked it slightly and you at that moment could die because it was a scene so dirty but sexy as you had never seen it in your life. He pulled down his boxers in one fell swoop and you saw his hard cock slapping his stomach, the tip was red and slightly dripping, your mouth made an O, You had already taken it in the mouth but fuck that member would ruin you instantly when it was inside of you. He stroked his hand a couple of times and pumped it lightly and with his usual arrogant and cheeky smile on his lips looked at you noticing your reaction. " Are you sure I can fit it all?" Jungwon laughed at your words «Are you ready or do you want to pull yourself up now, sweetie?» You nodded at his words pushed your hips forward and slowly slid, wrapping yourself in your tight warmth.

«Fuck, you’re so tight» When he pulled out but pushed back in faster and you couldn’t think clearly, your mind was confused and completely focused on how well you were feeling at that moment, About how Jungwon was kind to you but at the same time, he was hammering you.

"Jungwon is so beautiful" moan as your hands move on his biceps then go on his back and scratch him slightly things if you were his kitty. «I imagined this moment for months Y/n masturbated and thought of you, when I touched myself I thought of you, fuck you are a fucking witch»

In the room you could hear only the sound of rain and your skin rubbing skin against the skin «I’ll make you come on my dick. I’ll make you forget Minjae, any other guy who tries to get with you», sighed when you felt how it pumped fast inside of you and was completely destroying you; "Jungwon, pls" his hand came down to press on your stomach, your eyes that swirled backward for the pressure « Fuck, I’ll thank that prof for putting me in pair with you, look how well you’re taking my dick, princess» He stopped for a few seconds inside you when he saw that you were closing your eyes.

"no-no-no-no pls, don’t stop".

«Don’t you dare to close your eyes Y/n, you have to see how well your pussy takes my cock, you have to remember who is fucking you and not as a good girl but as a slut» His words got you even more excited and he grabbed your legs holding them there tight around him and started moving again, the new angle made you feel his cock deeper. " Fuck, oh my god", you whined, throwing your head backward against the pillow. had practically locked you under his grip, unable to do anything but take it all and retake it. With a firm push, he made him push against your G-spot, a gasp left your lips as his hand began to torture your clitoris.

"Oh my god, Jungwon is too much," you stammered, trying to hold back the tears and moans that were coming from your mouth, he accelerated more, hitting repeatedly the perfect spot. You felt your high grow and electric shocks of pleasure covered your body and your heat, "I am close to it", Jungwon made small circles in your clitoris stimulating him to the maximum «I also princess, want to fill with my sperm all your pussy» He accelerated his thrusts and you held him so strong «Fuck, sweet hold me so strong. I’m going to come and fill you up to the last drop» his voice was choked and his hips slammed against yours while he shot his sperm inside you while you came at the same time.

When he came out of you he lay down near you and embraced you and filled you with sweet kisses around your face, on your forehead, and in your hair, you were perfect for him and no one would ever have seen you so extremely excited and lost to someone else.

While he hugged you with the sleep that was starting in your body, he said softly «You will remain my rival N*1 but you are the most important and beautiful thing that has happened to me in the last few months, Y/n»

You hugged him even more and you put your head down in the groove of his neck and gave him a little kiss, "You too have become really important to me, but tomorrow morning I don’t want to be seen as your new conquest but something more for you Jungwon" a slight smile formed on Jungwon’s lips and gave you a kiss in the head. «You have always been mine in my head since they put us together Y/n, what did I tell you first? I wanted to be yours and you mine, so don’t worry that tomorrow I’ll still be yours for a long time.»

Comments are appreciated

©cutehoons02 all rights reserved 2024.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Head In The Clouds: Christmas

Barcelona Femení x Teen!Reader

Summary: Christmas with Mcdreamy

"No! Don't touch!"

Irene yelps as a wooden spatula slams onto her knuckles.

"I just-"

"No!" You insist, waving the spatula around again in warning. "This is my kitchen! Don't touch!"

"I can help!"

"No! Go!"

Irene looks like she wants to argue more but you raise the spatula again and she puts her hands up in a placating manner as she backs away onto the sofa.

Marta holds out a tray of tiny sausages to her. "You got kicked out of the kitchen too?"

"I was just trying to help."

Marta shrugs. "You know what she's like. Nothing comes between her and cooking."

"I swear she's been cooking for ages," Irene complains," She was up early too, I just know it."

"You can't prove it though," Patri says smugly, snatching some food for herself and munching away," Plausible deniability and all that."

"She needs a break."

"Don't bring that up with her," Frido says as she takes a seat on the arm of the sofa," You know she'd spend hours in that kitchen if she could. That's what we get for agreeing to dinner with a kid who's parents are chefs."

"No touching!" You yell from the kitchen and the little group cranes their hands to see your waving that spatula around in Alexia's face.

"I was just-"

"No! You're ruining! You're not allowed to touch! It's against the rules!"

"What rules?"

"My rules! The rules of my kitchen! That you are standing in!"

"Come on, just let me-"

"No!"

Irene smothers a laugh as you stamp your foot.

"You can fill up drinks or you can go away."

Keira laughs from the cosy armchair. "I'd listen to her, Ale! You're not going to get the best food if you distract her."

Alexia grumpily wedges herself onto the already over-full sofa. "I'm just trying to help. She's making this dinner for the whole team. I don't want her to get overwhelmed."

Keira rolls her eyes. "Her parents literally have Michelin stars. She grew up in the kitchen of world famous restaurants. I doubt doing a bit of cooking at home is going to overwhelm her."

Just as she finishes speaking, ten different timers ring out through the air, one after another, and Keira winces.

"I'm sure that's on purpose," She says as Alexia levels her a pointed look.

To be fair to you, you're not overwhelmed in the slightest and Alexia can see the moment the instinct takes over you like it does on the pitch, when everything around you completely disappears apart from what is directly in front of you.

Most of the time, it ends with a goal.

But here and now, it ends with the biggest spread of food she's ever seen cooked by one person before.

It's truly impressive what you've managed to produce for everyone, a buffet style meal that the whole team can pick and choose what they want from and still come back for seconds.

"You shouldn't eat too much," You say as you settle into your seat between Irene and Ingrid," Because I've got dessert as well. It's my Nana's recipe and I'd like you all to try it."

"We'll make sure to save room," Mapi promises as she reaches over the table to wrestle the stuffing away from Patri's clingy hands.

You beam at her. It's a wide smile, the same smile you get when you score a goal out of nowhere - making triumph out of nothing as you so often do after a pass that no one expects you to turn into an assist.

A big meal like this isn't a strange thing in your family back home. Your brothers are very busy people and your parents spend most of their time prepping for the dinner service of their restaurant every night.

But Christmas meant the whole family got together again. With your brothers mainly based in the Netherlands, you didn't see them as often until you and your parents were at arrivals at Heathrow Airport and the three of them came in after baggage claim.

With the family together again, it meant making a feast of a meal for Christmas with everyone in the kitchen, working around each other fluidly like your parents had taught you when you were little.

It felt nice to share this kind of meal with your teammates even after you came to the conclusion that none of them worked particularly fluidly in your kitchen and then had to get banned for your own peace of mind.

It filled you with pride to have your teammates eating and enjoying your food to such a degree that even the older, more responsible players like Marta and Alexia and Irene asked if you could box up some of the meal so they could eat some for leftovers the next day.

"You know," Alexia says when you finally allow her into your kitchen, if only to help you wash up," If you want to stay in Spain for Christmas, I can take you home with me. My family would love the food you cook."

"Don't joke around with stuff like that," Irene teases, dragging the drying up cloth over the plate that Mapi had just finished cleaning," Because if she's coming home with anyone for Christmas, it'll be me."

"I can't," You say simply as you put the lid on another portion of leftovers, this time for Salma," Because I've got to go home. My parents are closing the restaurant a couple of days early so we can pick up my brothers from the airport and I can't miss that."

"Well-"

"And I have to be home so my girlfriend can call and read me poetry on Christmas Eve. It's tradition."

"That's..." Irene clears her throat. "That's really sweet."

"And she always reads to me in French because she knows I'm trying to learn for her. So, I can't stay here because then I won't see my brothers and before my girlfriend reads me poetry, she likes seeing my pets at home and I can't show her my pets if I'm here."

Alexia laughs and you furrow your brows in confusion.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," Alexia says, throwing an arm around your shoulder and squeezing you like she does when you score a goal," You're such a sweetheart, y/n. Don't ever change."

[ak319]

(AN: Reader is 13-15, Arthur, 23-24)

Warnings: Not incest, strictly platonic, angst, fluff

You watched Arthur’s every move as he settled in, his face weary yet hardened, scrubbing off remnants of dirt and whatever else he’d encountered in the washing barrel. You lowered the clothes you were folding, feeling the slight twinge of nerves as you reached for his stew.

He liked it hot, which meant you had to reheat the pot. You realized you hadn’t eaten all day, but you brushed the thought aside. Taking the bowl in hand, you crossed over to him as he finally sat down, visibly exhausted.

“Here, Arthur." You said softly, extending the bowl to him.

He grunted in response, the closest thing to a “thank you” he would offer, and took it from you, his gaze giving you a quick once-over before returning to his meal. Routine checkup as you called it.

Trying to bridge the silence, you ventured, “So...how was it?”

Arthur barely looked up. “Was what?”

“The job…” You tried not to sound too eager, but the truth was, you were starved for any scrap of conversation, any glimpse into the part of his life that stayed cloaked in secrecy.

“Went well.” He replied curtly, still focused on his food.

A brief silence followed as you fiddled with a strand of hair, tucking it behind your ear. You felt a familiar ache bloom at the base of your skull and then another one at the abdomen, a dreadful sensation. Just then, it hit you, your period was due.

You froze, holding the empty tray as the realization dawned. Arthur looked up, stew mid-bite, and raised a brow at your sudden stillness, your gaze into space.

“What’s got you standin’ there like a ghost?” he muttered.

“Huh? Oh… nothing,” you managed to reply, trying to appear casual, hoping he wouldn’t notice the faint flush that had spread across your face.

“Need... anything?”

"Um..." You started pondering which perhaps went on for a minute.

Arthur’s gruff voice interrupted your thoughts. He reached into his pocket and, with a casual flick, tossed a few crumpled bills onto the tray. “Your pocket money. Now, go brew the coffee.”

The whole thing felt like a bad joke. Arthur tossed you a few bucks every so often, calling it "pocket money," like you could waltz into town and buy whatever you wanted. But he was always right there with you whenever you went to the market, keeping a close eye on everything. Or you had to give him the list.

“Uh? Um... th-thanks.”

Arthur's brow furrowed, his gaze sharpening. "What’s wrong with you today? Why are you actin’ weird?”

You forced a chuckle, shaking your head. “I’m fine, actually. You’re the one who is wei-, um looks tired. I’ll get on with the coffee.”

Before he could question you further, you hurried off, trying to shake the unease settling in your stomach. As you set the coffee pot on, you remembered the stew you’d set aside for yourself and turned toward the wagon, only to see Pearson ladling out the last bowl for himself.

A pang of frustration mixed with the ache of hunger, you’d been so careful, setting everything up, and now even that small comfort had slipped through your fingers.

First, the looming sense of dread that seemed to haunt your every step, and now this, a missed meal because Pearson snatched up the last bowl of stew without a second thought. Emotions churned, thick and heavy, clouding your mind as you went about your tasks in a haze.

You delivered Arthur’s damn coffee, scrubbed his dishes clean, and finished up the rest of your chores, all while running on nothing more than stale biscuits and the last dregs of (tea/coffee). Asking others for food? You didn’t want to be seen as Arthur’s sister, the one mooching off his work, asking for scraps, felt cheap, when he practically carried the camp on his shoulders. The thought made your stomach churn with resentment and embarrassment. Yeah, not something a Morgan does. Although in your opinion, you shouldn't be doing anything if he earns the most...but whatever. Asking from your brother? If he found out you skipped lunch. He’d be livid, calling you reckless or worse for not managing the basics, you couldn't handle a scolding at the moment.

Frustration gnawed at you. It wasn't just the hunger, it was the constant grind of chores, endless and thankless, all because you were one of the few women in the camp. Susan wielded her age like a shield, always finding ways to rest while you and Annabelle picked up the slack. But even Annabelle was too busy, neck-deep in whatever business kept her hands clean of the daily tasks. And so, it fell to you.

You flopped onto your cot, hiding your face in the pillow as the pains of hunger and period mixed with a deeper ache, one of loneliness, exhaustion, and memories you could almost taste. You remembered your mother’s gentle hand on your forehead when you were ill, the comforting smell of warm food she’d bring, and the luxury of rest she allowed you. It felt like a distant, lost dream now. Here, rest wasn’t an option, it was a rare privilege you couldn’t afford. Great, now your pillow is also wet with tears.

⋆⋆⋆

You were knee-deep in a mountain of laundry, your temper simmering with each aggressive scrub against the washboard. The clothes bore the brunt of your pent-up frustration, wrung and scrubbed with a vengeance. Suddenly, something light and obnoxious hit the basket, a boy’s underwear. You knew immediately who the culprit was.

"How. Dare. You?" you snapped, eyes narrowing.

John, already a few steps away, stopped and turned, a lazy smirk creeping across his face. "What? You’re the one washing."

"Yes, I am the one washing, you jerk." You grabbed the offending article and chucked it back at him, hitting him square in the face. His eyes widened, and he gasped, genuinely taken aback.

"But I am not washing that!" you said, pointing at the ragged underwear as if it were a symbol of all your grievances. "Those are for you to wash, understand?"

John held the underwear in his hands, clearly bewildered. "What? Why? Is it not… a cloth? And why would I wash it? I’ve got way more important things to do." His voice grated against your headache, every word echoing like a drumbeat in your skull.

"Important huh? Okay. Then let's solve this problem another way."

You could feel your patience unraveling, and, without thinking, you yanked a pair of scissors from your belt and snipped through the fabric with one swift motion.

"Hey! That was one of my two pairs! What the hell is wrong with you?!" he yelped, clutching the scraps as if they were made of gold.

"Then maybe you should think twice before tossing them my way! Now go and cry." you shot back, but the anger and heat were taking their toll. Your vision blurred slightly, the world beginning to spin.

John’s voice rose in protest, but it sounded muffled, distant. You took a step back, steadying yourself on the edge of the wash basin, blinking rapidly to try and clear your head. "Damn heat… and damn you, John…" you muttered, but the words seemed to tangle and drift as darkness crept in at the corners of your vision.

Your eyes fluttered open, and the first sight that met you was Ms. Grimshaw, her familiar face creased with concern as she fanned you gently with a worn-out piece of fabric.

"Ah! You are awake, quite the theatrics you put on out there..." Her voice was both exasperated and relieved. You let out a soft groan in response, turning onto your side, trying to escape the brightness of the day that felt too harsh against your feverish skin. Your throat felt like sandpaper, and the heavy weight of your head pressed down against the pillow.

"T-time...?" you managed to croak, the words feeling foreign in your mouth.

"It's four," she replied, a hint of annoyance in her tone.

Your eyes shot open wide in panic. "T-the clothes? I-"

Susan rolled her eyes, cutting you off. "I washed them, don't worry. But tomorrow you gotta do them, got it? And what’s with you tearing that boy’s underwear?"

"Huh...? What?" Confusion clouded your thoughts as you reached for your canteen, the bitter taste in your mouth only worsening your discomfort.

"Forget it," she huffed, shaking her head. "Oh, I hear him. I think Arthur's back."

Panic surged through you as you struggled to focus, the realization hitting hard. Arthur. You had to see him, make his coffee, bring him his food, and make sure he knew you were at the camp and doing your part in the camp. But every instinct in you rebelled against the idea, your muscles weak and senses dulled as if they’d given up the fight.

Your vision blurred, and you sank deeper into the cot, eyelids heavy, your body refusing to cooperate. You barely registered Susan’s faint, dismissive muttering as she left the tent, her words blending into a haze of disapproval. For now, making sure Arthur was taken care of was the least of your worries.

Meanwhile, Susan spotted Arthur sitting by his cot, his irritation palpable. Freshly cleaned up from his last job, he seemed expectant, perhaps wondering where you were with his usual meal or coffee. Sensing an opportunity to stir up trouble, she approached him, her tone casual but dripping with judgment.

"Mr. Morgan," she began with a sly look, "your sister did nothing today. Not a damn thing. And right now? She’s sleeping in, like she's royalty or something."

Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “Why would she do that?”

“Who knows?” Susan shrugged with exaggerated indifference. “She had some spat with John, then just sulked off and refused to lift a finger.”

The moment the words left her lips, Arthur was on his feet, his expression hardening. Without a word to Susan, he strode to your tent and pushed open the flap, not bothering to knock. His gaze swept over you, expecting to find you feigning sleep, or maybe just ignoring the day’s tasks.

"What the hell is you-"

But the sight of you, lying pale and motionless beneath the blanket, immediately stopped him in his tracks. A faint flush tinged your face, and your breathing was shallow. His agitation shifted to alarm in an instant.

Arthur knelt beside you, his hand reaching to press gently against your forehead, feeling the unmistakable heat of fever radiating through his palm. “Damn it,” he muttered, guilt and worry flooding his face. He’d been ready to scold you for shirking camp duties, and instead, here you were, worn down to the bone.

Your eyes fluttered open, barely focusing as you tried to mumble something. “Arthur... I meant... to get your food… just…”

His jaw tightened, frustration directed inward. “You’ve been pushin’ yourself too hard,” he said, his voice low but edged with anger, at himself, at Susan, at anyone who’d failed to notice what you were going through. “You’re coming with me to the clinic, no arguments.”

You nodded weakly, relief and exhaustion settling over you. Without another word, he slipped his arms beneath you, lifting you up with a gentleness that made your heart ache.

As he carried you to the stables, he did not forget to throw a bloodthirsty look at Susan making her gulp. It clearly stated.

'You are dead if something happens to her.'

The air in the clinic was thick with the smell of antiseptic and the soft rustle of the doctor’s coat as he examined you. Arthur sat beside you, his brow furrowed with concern, his hand clenched into a fist resting on his thigh. You lay on the cot, shivering despite the blanket wrapped around you, your pallor alarming him even more than before. The doctor’s voice was a distant murmur, but the words echoed in your ears.

“She’s suffering from dehydration fever. It’s left her weak, but with proper treatment, she should recover. Make sure she stays hydrated, and she’ll need rest, here's the prescription and you can go home if you want once the drip is finished..” The doctor turned to you one last time with a gentle smile. "Rest well, alright? Lots of it."

As soon as the door clicked shut behind the doctor, Arthur turned to you, his expression shifting from worry to something sharper, more intense. “What the hell were you thinking?!” he snapped, his voice low but edged with anger. “You could have told me you weren’t feeling well. Instead, you’ve been pushing yourself like this?”

You flinched at his tone, the weight of his words mixing with the guilt that already gnawed at you. “I--but you said...that I gotta...work...” you started, but the words caught in your throat, and instead of explanations, tears began to prick at your eyes.

"FUCK WHAT I SAID!- "He rubbed his forehead in frustration. "I also said to take care of yourself, I am not always around! And just--look at you..."

“I--I didn’t mean to,” you stammered, your voice trembling. “I thought I could manage...”

“Thought!?” he echoed, incredulous. “You can’t just think you can handle it all when you’re this sick! You’ve been working yourself to the bone! Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you ask for help?” His voice rose with each word, frustration spilling over as he paced the floor, refusing to meet your gaze.

"And what did you just tell the doctor, huh? That this wasn't the first time it happened?! Are you kidding me?! Are you tryin' to waste yourself?!"

The harshness of his tone cut through you, and you couldn’t help the tears that began to spill down your cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your throat tightening. As you looked into his furious eyes, the dam broke. The tears spilt over, hot and unrelenting as you remembered all the times, you put him and others first, in fear.

In fear of being left with strangers while Arthur is away and thinking that they might say or do something to you if you don't do the work properly.

"Damn it,” he murmured, his voice softening. “I didn’t mean to-”

“I was...scared and I-I--miss her,” you sobbed, clutching the blanket tightly around you as if it could shield you from the pain. “I miss Mama. She would know what to do. She would take care of me…please take me to Mama...” Your voice cracked, the memories of her soothing presence and the comfort she always provided weighing heavily on your heart.

Arthur’s anger faltered as he watched you break down. hearing you call for Mama again and again was agonizing. He felt his heart twist painfully at your words, the memories of your mother hanging heavy in the air. “I know,” he said quietly, his voice losing its edge. He reached out, gently wiping the tears from your cheeks, his own frustration melting away in the face of your grief. “I miss her too. But you can’t go on like this. You need to take care of yourself for her, for both of us. And why the hell are you scared, you are my sis' and as long as I am alive, no one can touch a strand of yours,” He pulled you in a side hug carefully.

"And listen here, from now on, you only do my chores. Fuck the camp." You pulled away slightly, in shock.

"W-what?"

He nodded with a playful smile. "Damn right. You get better and you do my work only. Susan can surely handle the others, right?"

You blinked up at him, your surprise turning into disbelief. “Arthur, you can’t just tell me to ignore everything else... I can’t put that on Susan. She-”

He interrupted you with a firm squeeze of your hand, his eyes softening. “I can and I will. You need to rest, and if that means I have to play the tyrant for a bit, so be it. Besides, Susan can manage. She’s been slacking off more than you realize. And if someone has a problem with it then they can come to me. Anytime.”

A small laugh, almost devilish, bubbled up despite your exhaustion, the tension easing slightly. You snuggled back into the hug to calm your shivering.

“That's...that would be fun to watch."

He nodded and you decided to press your advantage. “Um…so tell her to do your chores too-”

"Don't get too ahead of yourself now."

I hate you.

“Get well soon, and you better take your meds and all when I ain’t around.” Arthur’s voice held a rough tenderness, though he masked it with a gruff tone. Beneath his impatience, you sensed a genuine worry, a hint of eagerness for you to recover, not that he’d admit it, of course. His true motive, or so he told himself, was purely practical.

Pearson’s stew lacked the warmth and care you added to every meal, and coffee was never quite right unless you made it.

He groaned inwardly, imagining another week of choking down meals without your touch. But the look he shot you as he spoke was more protective than he probably intended, softening just enough that you knew he was looking out for you.

“Did ye’ even hear me, missy?” he muttered, noticing your eyelids drooping, his words somewhere between annoyed and fond.

You jumped, startled out of the drowsiness that was starting to creep over you, and gave a hum of acknowledgement.

⋆⋆⋆

John rushed up to Arthur as he emerged from your tent, having just ensured you were well-fed and rested.

"What is it, you rascal?" Arthur asked, turning to face him with a mix of curiosity and annoyance.

“Um... I was looking forward to a compensation…” John trailed off, shuffling his feet awkwardly.

“For?” Arthur raised an eyebrow amused, the impatience creeping into his tone.

“(Y/N), tore... she... tore my underwear, which is not fair...I only asked her to wash it...I mean....”

A smirk crept across Arthur's face. “She did the right thing, I am proud of her.” He grabbed John by the back of his neck, pulling him close with a playful yet threatening grin.

"My sis ain't your maid, boy, got it? In fact, nobody's maid here. Wash your shit yourself.” The playful banter vanished, replaced by a weighty silence as Arthur's gaze hardened. He gave John a firm shove, sending him stumbling back and casually walking back to his own tent, chuckling at the boy's foolish request.

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

the five stages | f. odair

masterlist

summary: a journey back to a golden period of time of polaroid pictures, white knitted sweaters, and lively sea-green eyes. why? because in the present, those same pair of eyes are ruthlessly unrelenting and you have no other chance of their escape.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: heavy angst, vomiting, implied smut, depression, maggots, hallucinations, relieving fluff, mild horror. I don’t want to spoil the story too much, so I won’t be adding any more warnings, sorry y’all. this could be very triggering so please read at your own discretion. some descriptions are quite graphic!

notes: I’m super proud of this one—it’s sorta based off “little talks” by of monsters and men and “on the nature of daylight” by max richer. this fic probably won’t get many views, so I’ll be incredibly grateful for any—if any at all—type of engagement! <33

word count: 8k

The bedroom was cold; dark; empty. Empty even though I still resided in it.

My alarm had gone off two hours ago, yet I hadn’t moved an inch. When I finally turned my head to the side, I found that the space beside me was vacant. Cold; dark; empty—I reached out my hand anyway.

Thirty minutes passed before I wrestled myself out of bed and started making breakfast downstairs. The otherwise warm and flavourful plate of fruit-filled yoghurt and scrambled eggs on toast left my mouth feeling dry and my throat lodged.

It used to be one of my favourite meals. At least, when he was around.

Dishes were piled in the sink, dirty and untouched. I sat on the couch, pondering whether today was the day I would finally get to cleaning them. It wasn’t. I couldn’t. We always did that together. I wondered—if I left them in the sink long enough, would he return? Even just for five minutes to help me put them away? One month and seventeen days had passed, and yet I still entertained this thought religiously.

I wasted an hour running circles round the same contemplations before deciding fresh air, as cliché as it was, might do me some good.

Grey clouds concealed the sun’s warm golden light when I stepped outside, but that was fine—I didn’t like anything golden anymore. But he would want me to leave the house at least once a day, so that’s what I would do. I would go down to the beach beside our—my house and feel the sand collect between my toes as I walked to the water’s edge.

But wasn’t that where he was when it happened? Wasn’t he in water? Didn’t those things pile on top of him? Didn’t they sink their fangs into his neck and tear at his flesh until he was blown to…

Bits of egg, yoghurt and stomach bile sat at my feet. My legs buckled, and I collapsed to the ground in a sandy, tear-stricken heap. Since my lower body had refused to cooperate any longer, it took me until midday to crawl back up the dune and to my front doorstep.

Fuck. I needed to rest.

“I need you to rest, sweetheart.”

“I told you, I’m fine,” I whined. “I���m not sick.”

Finnick placed a bucket on the ground beside the bed. The room smelled of lemon disinfectant—a joy I often found in being sick… That is, if I were sick, which I was not. I must have drunk spoiled milk or eaten something bad during breakfast. Nevertheless, Finnick was not having it.

“You’re throwing up everything you manage to get down, and you’re shivering like it’s the middle of winter,” he said adamantly, tucking the comforter up to my chest. “It’s summer, and you’re very much not fine.”

I sat up, ready to heatedly debate the subject, but the room began swirling, and my ears were hissing like a staticky television channel without a signal. A quiet whimper buzzed in my throat as I hunched forward. Damn him, I was sick.

The mattress dipped as Finnick sat beside me. His hand was on my back, rubbing it soothingly as he used his other hand to tuck away the curtain of hair concealing my face. I huffed, half in annoyance, half in an attempt to suppress the nausea rising in my throat, and then sunk back against the pillows.

“Not sick, she says,” he jested, smiling down at me. I rolled my eyes, though unable to hide the weak, betraying smile creeping across my lips. “Close your eyes, sweetheart,” he said, a gentle command. “I’ll see you when you fall asleep.”

The wooden flooring welcomed me with hard, cold arms as I hauled my sandy body through the front door. Images of fangs, bloody flesh, and panicked sea-green eyes flooded my mind.

More breakfast, more bile. No lemon disinfectant.

My knees were folded beneath my body; my body was hunched over my knees. I was sobbing now, so hard that I threw up again (was there even anything left in my stomach at this point?), creating a thick puddle of vomit and tears beneath me. Cries and gasps for air bounced around the house. To call me a mess would be an understatement. I was a disaster. A disaster wrapped up in an unmendable tragedy with a ragged, threadbare ribbon barely holding me together.

And in case I wasn’t aware of this fact, the floorboards were so shiny that they mirrored a reflection of myself. My hair was a being of its own, all wild and unkempt, and my face was another story entirely—a red, blotchy thing I wasn’t too interested in delving into.

But the most unsettling aspect had nothing to do with me, it was that there was someone else in the reflection. Two green balls of light were glowing above my head.

Dishevelled golden hair…

Dimpled cheeks…

My forehead was pressed to the floor as I screamed.

“I don’t want to make you sick as well,” I said, contrarily enjoying the feeling of Finnick’s skin warm against mine, hot blood flowing through his veins.

A day had passed since I first became unwell, and the sickness had continued to wreak havoc inside me.

We were both under the thick covers, our limbs tangled together as he held me atop his chest. (my body didn’t register the scorching summer temperatures. I actually felt as though my core temperature was a few degrees below freezing. Meanwhile, Finnick was characteristically toasty warm. It was perfect for me, but not so much for him, evident in the beads of sweat collecting on his forehead. Nevertheless, he made no complaints).

My body rose and fell with each breath he took. I was trying to inhale whenever he exhaled in a weak attempt to prevent the festering sickness in my body from entering his, and though it was a futile gesture, I did it anyway.

“In sickness and health, remember?” he said.

I smiled. “We’re not even married.”

“Yet, you mean,” he countered. “I plan on spending the rest of my life with you, sweetheart. You know that.”

My heart fluttered at the thought of spending an entire lifetime with him—waking up in each other’s embrace each morning, the warm sunlight peeking through the blinds of our bedroom; Finnick calling me “Mrs. Odair” or “My wife” at every opportunity because doing so made us both giggle like two moronic, love-struck teenagers; and being unable to prevent the deep smile lines on both our cheeks as we age, a constant display of our perpetual happiness.

“Sixty more years of having and holding you,” he continued with a gentle musing in his tone. “For better or for worse... For richer or for poorer.” He then stroked the side of my face and brushed away the sweaty strands of hair sticking to my forehead. “In sickness and in health…”

“…Until death do us part,” I finished, my voice slow with fatigue.

Two fingers sat beneath my chin and tilted my head upward. My eyes connected with Finnick’s. They were soft. Heartfelt.

“Not even then. I’ll love you beyond the grave,” he murmured. Then his lips were slowly curving into a pensive smile. “When we’re both ghosts and haunting the next owners of this house.”

I was now smiling, too. “I’d hoped you would say something like that.”

How could he lie like that? There was no we. There were no next owners. There was only me, alive and alone in a comatose house. And mind you, I was sane enough to know that it wasn’t actually his ghost haunting me, though I wish I weren’t because having that knowledge was even worse. It meant he was truly erased from existence.

“Go away,” I whispered to the reflection on the floor.

He didn’t. His vacant green eyes kept staring down at my crumpled figure.

I shot off the floor and spun around, hot tears streaming down my face. “Go away!” His face remained expressionless. He looked like himself, only colder. “You said sixty more years! You said we’d be together!” I mindlessly picked up and flung a small picture frame at him, only for it to pass through his body and shatter on the floor behind him. “Why did you lie to me?!” My voice was frayed with fury, though underlined with grief.

He said nothing, did nothing. All he did was watch.

My legs buckled, and I was on the floor again. I was whispering, half-sobbing, the same question over and over until the words slurred together. “Why’d you lie? Why’d y’lie?” The only time I stopped was when my tongue grew too heavy to move anymore.

To my surprise, he eventually came and sat beside me, remaining cold and silent—as I too had become.

Glass fragments from the picture frame were scattered across the floorboards. The photo within had fallen out and, ironically, drifted towards me. I didn’t bother acknowledging him as I moved onto my hands and knees and began crawling forward—my palms slicing open and blood seeping out—until the photo was in my hands. My shins had granules of glass pricking into them, but I couldn’t feel the pain; all I could do was stare at the memory in my hands.

The picture had been taken in District Thirteen, a day before he signed up for… the mission.

I was drifting in and out of sleep when a sudden bright flash lit up my eyelids.

“Oops.”

Heavy eyes fluttering open, I was met with a small camera pointing down at me, which was being held up by a lengthy muscular arm, which was connected to an even more muscular and broad shoulder, which was connected to—okay, sorry, I think you get it.

“Finnick!” I shrieked, pulling the covers over my naked figure.

He laughed, the vibrations rumbling deep within his chest, beneath my ear. A soft whirring sound accompanied the polaroid sliding out of the camera, its black film hiding the doubtless embarrassing picture beneath. He placed the film on the sheets beside him, letting the photo develop in darkness.

“I was supposed to cover the flash,” he said, still chuckling.

I rubbed my eyes, which were twinkling with little sparkles of light. “I think you blinded me.”

“Lucky you,” he jested. “You’re finally free from my repulsive exterior.”

I started to reach for the picture beside him—“You’re an idiot”—but then he was rolling us over until his arms were pillared on either side of my head and he was hovering above me.

His hair was a mess, a testament to the night before (and very early hours of the morning), and he was sporting a beautiful, lazy grin. “Yeah? Well, you’re engaged to an idiot,” he said, tilting his head in an arrogant manner. “So what does that make you?”

The sea-glass ring hugging my finger gleamed in the lamp’s dull light as I reached out to touch his face, my fingertips brushing along the edges of his pronounced jawline. Tangled strands of hair and a beaming smile were reflecting back at me in his eyes. No one had ever loved anyone as much as I loved Finnick—disregarding the one exception that was staring down at me.

“Blinded by love,” I whispered.

Brief yet poignant emotion trickled through his features, his eyes. Then, like a flick of a switch, he covered it up and lowered his face into my neck, groaning the words, “So corny.”

My fingers were tangled in his hair, holding him close to me. “Liar,” I laughed. “You loved it.”

“I love you, which is why I put up with your corniness,” he murmured into my skin.

Even after all this time, my heart still leapt whenever he said those three words, even when he was being a jerk about it. I kissed the top of his head. “I love you, too.”

We laid like this for a short while longer—Finnick keeping his face buried in the warmth of my neck, his arms curled beneath my body; me playing with the golden waves of his hair that were somehow softer than my own. He was so heavy on top of me that it was starting to become difficult to breathe, but in no universe would I ever tell him to get off. It was a blissful sort of suffocation.

A sort anyone would snap a picture of just to keep as a reminder of how beautiful it feels to be smothered with love. With that being said, the picture that lay awaiting beside me was brought back to mind.

“Oh no,” I moaned, picking it up and taking a short glance at the developed photo. I covered my face with my hands, repeating the words, “Oh no.”

The photo was plucked from my fingers, and Finnick began humming contentedly to himself.

In the photo, my face had been nuzzled into his bare, muscular chest, eyes closed in sleep-drunken serenity, hair thrown over my shoulder and spilling across the pillow. My hand rested on his contoured stomach with just enough of my upper arm and low light to conceal my breasts. Finnick had a delicate hand draped over my waist. He was gazing down at me with a smile that was just… full of pure love.

I had to admit—it was a beautiful picture. Despite my initial disapproval.

“Beautiful,” I heard him echo my thoughts, his eyes still scanning the photo. Then his brows furrowed, and his head slightly inched forward as though he had just noticed something peculiar in the picture. “Oh, and you are too, I guess.”

My head tilted back against the pillow with an abrupt laugh. I shook my head, looking back at him. “I hate you.”

“Liar,” he said, leaning in closer.

His lips were on mine for what must have been the millionth time in the past few hours. The bedside clock announced that breakfast was soon approaching, though it was clear neither of us would make an appearance within the next hour (or two).

“You love me,” he whispered as he slid inside me.

And I did.

I really did.

The muscles in my cheeks were straining due to how hard I was smiling.

It wasn’t my idea to keep a picture of us half-naked in the entryway of our home. He always was a bit unusual like that. Completely unashamed of who he was and how he acted. Sometimes a little too boisterously, but that’s what I loved so much about him—how confident he was in his love for me, so much so that nothing else mattered, no one else’s opinion.

God, I love him so much.

Love…?

Wait.

That’s not right.

Shouldn’t it be “loved”?

And why was I smiling? I didn’t have anything to smile about anymore. He was gone. Our wedding never occurred. Our faces never wrinkled with smile lines. Our clasped hands never weathered with age. He was gone.

The polaroid slipped from between my fingers. My hands were covered in glass and blood, blood that had painted a dark red splotch in the middle of the shiny film. Figures.

After a short while of staring blankly at the scattered debris decorating the floor, I finally found it in myself to start climbing back onto my feet. My straightened legs wobbled and ached beneath me with the little energy I had. That’s what happens when you can barely stomach food anymore: no energy, always sleeping, always swamped by nightmares or bittersweet memories—at this point, they were one and the same.

Not a strand of gold or a fleck of green was in sight when I glanced over my shoulder. For now, at least. He liked making an appearance once or twice a day.

Pieces of glass crunched beneath my bare, stinging feet as I made for the stairwell. A mess for another day, I reasoned. Just like the dishes. Sticky red footprints stamped each wooden step I ascended, growing less prominent as I reached the second floor.

After taking a right down a short hallway, the encompassing walls littered with magnificent seashells and dried ocean flora, I turned the knob to the furthest room and entered. The floor was landscaped with mountains of clothes which drenched the room in a familiar, all-consuming smell. The scent kind of reminded me of receiving a warm hug, albeit from someone you know you should let go of in more ways than one.

His hair, golden and tousled, caught my eye as I passed the wall of string-hung polaroids in our… sorry, my bedroom. His smile was all dimpled and brilliant, and he had his tanned arms wrapped around my middle. Just moments after the picture was taken, he had tackled me into the water and rightfully earned a smack on the back of the head. In turn, he did it again.

But before that, we were both looking into the camera with the most joyful expressions—huge grins, bright eyes. Frozen in time.

I never let myself look too long at that picture anymore. And I never, ever looked into his eyes. Green used to be my favourite colour. I didn’t have a favourite colour anymore. It was safe to say I didn’t have a favourite anything anymore; everything favourable was a reminder of him.

I picked up a white knitted sweater off the ground and tugged it over my head, staining it with splotches of dark red. Knowing him, he would wear it regardless—whatever was mine, was also his, and was equally the same in reverse, even things as grotesque as blood.

Well, he would have worn it, I should have said.

The sweater had been specifically tailored for him. I remembered how the soft sleeves hugged his arms so well that every fluid curve of his biceps was visible, similar to a building wave before it crested. On me, the sleeves swallowed my arms whole, which I liked to think in their own unique way had also been unintentionally tailored for me, like someone out there knew one day I would need some way to drown in him when he was gone.

Finnick’s fingers tugged at the silk ribbons, unwrapping the opulent gift box that sat on our dining table. Capitol devotees would send extravagant parcels weekly, turning up in abundance on our doorstep. Sometimes Finnick didn’t even bother opening them; sometimes we opened them together just to get a good laugh out of whatever ridiculous item was inside.

He never, though, opened the perfume-scented letters marked with lipstick stains.

“Oh,” I said in surprise as he lifted the lid. Inside was a folded piece of fabric, knitted and cream-white and intricate, though still simple. It was soft to the touch; thick enough to retain warmth. I held it up with two hands, admiring the hand-sewed threads of cotton. Whoever’s handiwork this was, it was nothing to laugh at.

Holding it up to Finnick’s torso, I smiled and said, “Try it on.”

“What?” He shook his head and smiled quizzically. “No.”

“Yes. I think it will look good on you.” I pressed it further against him with conviction. “Try it on.”

He tilted his head and exhaled deeply through his nose, giving me a begrudging, squinty-eyed look. From that, I already knew I had won him over, and watched as he snatched the sweater from my grasp and tugged his shirt off with one hand. I averted my eyes, feeling the tips of my ears flush with heat—we’d been together for over a year now; you would think I’d have grown accustomed to seeing him shirtless.

His head slipped through the neckline and he pulled the sweater down his body. I was right. It looked really good on him. Perfect, actually. The measurements were so precise that the fabric sloped off his shoulders like a compact mountain of snow. The thick-knitted collar dipped into a deep, uneven neckline that partly revealed his chest and made his neck look like a strong, contoured pillar. He looked at me expectantly, as though to ask, “Well?”

“It makes your neck and shoulders look really nice,” I blurted out, instantly cringing inside.

His expression contorted into something of amusement and surprise as he took a slow step towards me. “My neck and shoulders, huh?” he said, grinning devilishly. Oh, now I’d done it. Leave it to me to rocket Finnick Odair’s already atmospheric ego. “Anything else?”

I began backing away, but his prowling strides were so long that the space between us only shortened. When my backside hit the edge of the dining table, I knew I was done for.

“You know,” I began, avoiding his unrelenting stare. “I think it was just a momentary lapse of judgement.” He was closing in now, placing his hands on either side of my body to trap me in place. “It—It actually looks terrible on you,” I said, feigning sincerity and adding a little nod to help further my case.

His eyelids drooped as he gazed down at me, lips curving into that seductive smirk he had mastered long ago. “No takebacks,” he purred, voice low and gravelly. Dear God, I could only pray I wasn’t going to melt into a puddle on the floor. He always did this—took every opportunity to flirt and render me a stuttering, bashful mess. It was his favourite game to play. “This is now my new favourite shirt. All thanks to you, sweetheart.”

But, given the right timing and ever-wavering amount of confidence, I liked to play too.

I inhaled deeply, hoping my voice wouldn’t betray me. “Maybe you should take it off then,” I said, cocking my head to the side. “So you don’t ruin it.”

His mischievous expression revealed his next words before he even spoke them. “Maybe I will,” he said, and then he was tugging his sweater over his head, and I was tearing off my own. As his hands slipped beneath my thighs and lifted me onto our dining table, I prayed the wooden legs wouldn’t collapse under the weight of our next actions.

My fingertips ran over the soft, rippling patterns on the knitted sleeves, my arms crossed in a self-soothing manner. After that day, the sweater had become a sort of good luck charm—or so we agreed upon as we lay panting on the tabletop. He started wearing it to a multitude of events and parties in the Capitol (basically any place in which he needed a pick-me-up, a reminder of what he had to come home to, who he had to come home to).

He even wore it the day we got engaged.

So many happy memories were associated with this one white sweater. So many times, those cloud-soft sleeves were wrapped around my body, suffocating me in the scent of him—if nothing else, at least that remained.

The last time he had worn it was the day of the Reaping for the Quarter Quell; the last time our lives were ever semi-normal. I had fought tooth and nail to reach him before he was escorted onto the train, despite being ordered, “No goodbyes,” by one of the Peacekeepers. In modest terms, I had significantly decreased his chances of reproduction.

When I reached Finnick, he had brought me into a kiss so harsh and fervent that my lips were bruised the next day. He then yanked off his sweater, leaving his upper body completely exposed to everyone around us in complete disregard for his trauma-induced fear of doing so, and shoved it into my hands.

I had just stood there frozen in bewilderment, watching as he called out, “I love you, sweetheart!” Two Peacekeepers were forcing him onto the train, but he too fought for the last word. “Don’t forget—I’m always with you!”

That statement had never been truer than it was now. For better or for worse.

My vision unblurred as I returned to reality. Dismal, grey light was peeking through the shutters that formed the balcony doors, the daylight hours seeming to tick away at a snail’s pace. I used to wish for the days to be longer, for time to move slower, so I could savour the moments I had of happiness and sunlight which used to be plentiful.

Why do wishes only come true when you grow to desire nothing but the opposite?

Slothfully, I crawled onto the unmade king-size bed, my limbs crumpling and balling to my chest as the side of my head hit the pillow. The imprint on the mattress beneath my body didn’t match my own. It was much larger and broader. How long would it take for the springs to forget his body weight and recoil back into place as though he never existed at all?

I inhaled the sweater’s scent with every breath I took (and I tried not to wonder how long it would take for his scent to disappear as well) and hugged my arms around my waist. No pain was worse than the fleeting moments I forgot the embrace was my own and not his.

Hours passed, and so did the evening. A beautiful orange sunset hadn’t slipped through the shutter’s cracks because the clouds never dissipated. Night-time brought no consolation either. Not even the stars or moon made an appearance. Everything that once gave me a shred of optimism was hidden behind a veil of gloom.

I knew tomorrow wouldn’t be any different—the weather, my mood, his absence. Because the end of autumn was closing in, and the days were becoming bleaker. Trees would start shedding their leaves; the leaves would start to die.

I hoped I would too.

I was still curled up on my side, my body aching with stiffness, when my face began scrunching into this ugly, twisted mess of despair. My tears were slow yet heavy, synonymous with the day I had incurred.

But then something strange happened.

Someone called my name.

No. That couldn’t be right. I was the only one who occupied a house in the Victor’s Village; the others had either relocated after the war or were… dead.

But there it was again—my name, distant and eerie, yet spoken with a tone people often used to beckon over and aid a frightened, injured animal. My vision blurred, both from tears and concentration on the voice.

“Hey.”

I couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment my surroundings transformed into a kitchen, just that they had and that I was no longer in my bed but standing upright.

Ahead of me, in the distance, the sun was beating down on the crystalline water, and white frothy waves were cresting on the smooth, golden sand. It was a perfect day; not a cloud was in sight. The only blemish that smeared the blue sky was the reflection staring back at me from the window I gazed out of.

In my hands was a soup bowl and a damp dishrag.

“Sweetheart?” That once distant voice, concerned and beckoning, was standing right beside me.

Blinking, I snapped out of my daze and turned away from the window.

He stood tall beside me, despite being half hunched over the kitchen sink and scrubbing the last of the few dirty dishes stacked neatly on the bench top. His head was turned towards me, his enamoured sea-green eyes peering into my own as though he was searching behind them for what troubled me.

“Hey,” he spoke softly, standing up straight. His touch was warm and gentle as he reached for my hand, leaving soapy bubbles on my palm and fingers. “Where’d you go?”

Three odd things seemed to occur at once: first, I flinched away from his touch, overwhelmed by its paradoxical unfamiliar familiarity; second, I felt an inexpressible relief from seeing him standing before me, seeing his cheeks painted with a soft pink hue as though blood-red roses were hidden just beneath his skin.

The third was an onset of disorientation. I couldn’t tell you why I felt disorientated standing in my own kitchen with the love of my life, just, simply, that I did. There was an answer—it was close by, right under my nose, yet unreachable. We did this every day, didn’t we? We would eat meals together and then wash up together. So, why did I feel so unsettled?

I shook my head, dispelling the confusion that muddled my brain. “Sorry,” I whispered. “I don’t know what happened.” I laughed uneasily, without a hint of mirth.

He laughed too, not to poke fun or because he found my obvious turmoil amusing, but rather to comfort me, so I would feel less alone in my unease. “It’s alright,” he said gently.

Neither of us addressed what had happened; we simply resumed our routine of washing and drying in domestic silence. And as seconds turned to minutes, and as the sky remained sunny, I found myself smiling. All that mattered was that he was standing beside me and that the sun was beaming in the sky. So, I kept smiling.

After I finished drying the last dish, we began placing the plates, bowls, and an abundance of cutlery in their assigned drawers and cupboards, weaving past each other and giggling anytime we got in one another’s path. I was carrying a stack of white plates, eyeing the high cupboard they needed to go in, but before I could even attempt straining onto my toes, the plates were out of my hands and taken into another much larger pair.

The smell of sea salt and expensive cologne wafted from behind me as he towered over my shorter frame and placed the plates in the cupboard.

“I could have done that,” I said, smiling as I turned around to face him.

He had a playful glint in his eye. “Yeah, right. What are you, like, four feet tall?” he joked.

It was an extreme exaggeration since I was no way near that height, but I suppose everyone was miniature in comparison to him, being over six feet tall and all. I feigned open-mouthed offence, to which he gave the side of my head a quick, playful kiss of apology.

He then leaned against the counter with crossed arms. “Plus, when was the last time you actually put these dishes away? I’m surprised you even remember where they go.” He was grinning at me in a teasing manner, but every ounce of humour had drained from my body.

My eyes drifted to the floor.

Well, that was the question, wasn’t it—when was the last time I put the dishes away?

I couldn’t remember. In fact, I couldn’t remember what had happened this morning or the day before. Hell, I couldn’t even remember what we were doing before the dishes.

To be standing in a room, in a place you call home, and have a sense that nothing is in its right place, even though that is where everything has always been, is a disconcerting feeling beyond belief. To be perplexed by your own state of being—your existence—is even worse. I could almost describe it as a nauseating bout of vertigo.

My hands found the counter’s edge behind me, and I exhaled a shaky breath.

He stepped in front of me, one large and gentle hand reaching up to cup my jaw. “Are you okay?” he asked, his forehead wrinkling with shallow worry lines as he inspected my face. I hated that. I hated that I worried him so much. Sure, partners were supposed to lean on each other for support in a relationship (as he too did with me when needed), but I always felt so guilty doing so. Hadn’t he already suffered enough… pain in his lifetime? Who was I to cause him any more?

A sunbeam suffused the room, oozing across his face. The illumination lightened his eyes into a refreshing mint green, though, in contradiction, unearthed a pain that had been previously been concealed. Pain from what, I wasn’t sure. From concern regarding my unusual behaviour? Maybe a thought that was troubling him? Or perhaps he too was enduring a spell of confusion and had an inexplicable feeling that he was out of place.

Whatever his pain regarded, seeing it had rattled the deepest structures in which held my mind together.

It was then that I suddenly realised I hadn’t answered his question, so I gave him a wan “I’m-not-too-sure-myself” smile and then began slinking back to the sink window.

He followed behind me. I could feel him staring into the back of my head, could feel his brows draw together and his lips pull into a tight line, patiently waiting for a further explanation, though I wasn’t sure I could offer him one.

I hadn’t noticed before, but on the windowsill was a small picture frame containing a polaroid picture of us in bed—I was lying on his chest, half-naked and asleep, and he was looking down at me, smiling fondly yet with a sort of mischievous knowability. Running down the middle of the protective glass was a small, jagged crack.

I plucked the frame from the windowsill, inspecting the picture in my two hands. It seemed to uncover a place in my mind—once clouded by disorientation—I’d forgotten. Whether this place was real or imaginary was beyond me, but the fear I felt upon its recollection was incandescently genuine.

“Do you think,” I spoke tentatively, “people can have nightmares while they’re wide awake?” My thumb ran over the crack.

I might have heard him inhale a quiet, sharp breath, but it also could have just been the waves breaking on the distant shore. “Like a flashback?” he asked, an unidentifiable unease in his tone.

“No, not exactly.” I searched my brain for the right words, the right way to tell him how I was feeling, but it was difficult when I could only conjure vague fragments. And it was all I could do to tell it to him elliptically, as I knew saying the words in any other manner would shatter my heart.

“I had this vision,” I began, my words apprehensively staccato, “where I was somewhere else.” My eyes flickered over the picture. “Somewhere… bad. Everything was grey and heavy, and I was alone. Sometimes you were there, but you—you weren’t really you anymore.” I paused and looked up to find him staring at me in the reflection of the window. He looked pained; it was then suddenly hard to recollect a time when he didn’t. My throat started to constrict. “You were gone and…” my voice quietened to a broken wisp of wind, “you were haunting me.”

The room was silent.

He said nothing in response

The transparency of his reflection in the glass was so familiar—so haunting—and it was like another forgotten matter had been dredged from the depths of my mind. Stinging tears brimmed my waterline, and, due to my inability to bear the sight of his translucent appearance, I forced myself to turn around.

I glanced up at him, smiling weakly as I whispered, “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head as if my need to apologise was nonsensical (even I was unsure of what I was apologising for), and he then pulled me into a tight embrace. His chin rested atop my head; my face was buried in his chest, and his arms held me like I was some dilapidated structure that relied on his support to remain upright. Part of me knew this sentiment was correct.

I expected his next words to be ones of consolation or reassurance, maybe an “I’m right here, sweetheart” or an “I’ll never leave you”. Instead, I felt his head turn and heard him say, “Think it’s going to storm?”

With a sniffle, I turned my head towards the window. The arms wrapped around my body tightened as if he somehow knew I would need the extra support. Because when I saw the wall of dark, opaque clouds rolling through the sky towards us, an unshakeable dread zapped through my heart.

My hands clung to the fabric of his cream-white sweater, which then brought to my attention that an inexplicable tingling sensation was spreading down the fingers of my right hand, numbing them.

Lightning flashed on the horizon, and the once serene waves began cresting violently on the shoreline. The dread grew.

Before my attention could drift too far, my name was called again.

I looked up to find those green eyes gazing down at me, swelling with tears. He was crying. Why was he crying? And why was his hair wet? His usually golden strands had darkened to a deep brown and were drenched with cold water that dripped onto my cheeks, and his hair was swept haphazardly across his forehead, a reflection of someone who had just endured an intense storm or had just been fighting for his life against a swarm of—of—

No.

My own eyes began to burn.

“It’s killing me to see you this way,” he spoke, every second word breaking and wavering in volume.

The world seemed to tilt on an axis. Return did the disorientation, ravaging my mind more violently now. “What do you”—My chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths—“What? What do you mean?” My lower lip was quivering, and my eyebrows were scrunched together in confusion. His words replayed in my head: It’s killing me to see you this way.

It’s killing me.

His hair was dripping—no longer with water, but with a thick, red substance that both dripped down and clotted on his skin. He didn’t look pained anymore; he looked like he was in pain.

It’s killing me.

But that can’t be right, can it?

It’s killing me.

Why?

It’s killing me.

Becausemy Finnickwas already dead.

I staggered backwards and out of his, no, this imposter’s arms. He stared at me as blood streamed down his forehead, pouring over his eyelashes and down his cheeks. I was going to be sick. This had to be some sort of cruel joke, a newly invented punishment from Snow. But that wasn’t right either: Snow was dead too.

“F…Fi…” I tried saying his name, my top teeth prodding the inside of my bottom lip, but I couldn’t make a sound.

He took a step towards me, and I almost stumbled onto the floor. “Remember what I told you?” he asked, though it sounded more like an urge.

I frantically shook my head. No, I didn’t remember. I didn’t want to remember anything.

Something dark and mountainous appeared in my peripheral vision, and an odious smell singed my nostrils. My head snapped to the left. Stacks upon stacks of plates and bowls mounded the kitchen sink, each crawling with maggots that were falling to the floor in white, wriggling heaps.

Nausea boiled in my stomach; horror brimmed my eyes.

I quickly turned away, my eyes meeting green again. His face was no longer stained with blood, and his hair was dry, shiny, and golden with life. I was as speechless as my face was drained of blood.

He took one more step toward me, but this time I didn’t back away, either frozen with fear or desperation for one last experience of closeness with him. My heart thrummed as he reached out to cup my face. It isn’t him, it isn’t him, it isn’t him, I repeated madly in my head. Oh, but it felt so much like him when his warm hand met my skin.

“I told you I’m always with you, sweetheart,” he murmured. And I knew engaging with him, in whatever form he took, affirmed my mental unwellness, but I couldn’t stop from leaning into his touch anyway. “Remember that.”

My cheeks were wet with tears. “I love—”

A bolt of lightning flashed, and thunder boomed throughout the house.

I was back in my bed.

My eyelids were heavy with sleep as they fluttered open. I felt detached, destabilised, and unsure of my existence in the world for I wasn’t sure which of the twoI was currently in. Real or fake?

A few minutes went by before I managed to get a grip on reality, which, in fact, was the real one. The Somewhere Bad. I pinched the corners of my eyes, not only finding them damp with fresh tears but also realising that my right hand—previously tucked beneath my head—was numb.

None of it had been real…

The entire time, my body was trying to alert me, to save me from the inescapable heartache I would feel upon waking. He hadn’t held me in his arms. He hadn’t cupped my cheek nor helped me wash the dishes. He wasn’t here. He wasn’t anywhere (not even in his own marked grave because there was nothing left of him to be buried).

Even despite seeing the familiar tall outline standing in the doorway, his features illuminated with each flash of lightning, I knew it wasn’t really him.

Rain was pummelling the roof, almost loud enough to subdue the perpetual rumbling of thunder (apart from the one sky-splitting thunderclap that had woken me). In another time, I would’ve been scared—of the raging storm, of my phantom lover who was watching from the shadows of our bedroom. But not now.

In recent months, I had found that no emotion, not even fear, surpassed the soul-crushing realisation that you have irretrievably lost the one thing you lived for.

On a defeated whim, and for the first time since his death, I let the singular, weighted word breeze past my lips.

“Finnick.”

It was a trembling plea, a desperate beckon.

And he indulged.

His footsteps were silent as he walked towards the bed. I couldn’t see his legs from my position, prompting me to wonder if he even had legs at all. Or did he only have legs when I could see them? That would then insinuate that if I couldn’t see him at all, he didn’t exist.

If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? In my case, the answer was simple: no, it didn’t.

It wasn’t really Finnick. It wasn’t even his ghost. It was my mind.

He reached the bed’s edge, and I scooted over to my side of the mattress, allowing him enough space to lie down on his. His weight neither dipped nor shook the bed as he laid down and turned on his side to face me. His eyes were sad, and I’m sure mine were too. We stared at each other for a long, long time, long enough for my fatigued body to start playing tricks on me.

If I focused hard enough, I thought I could hear the sound of his breathing (the wind was picking up outside), feel the warmth of his skin spreading onto the sheets (the remnants of my own body heat were left behind each time I moved), and smell the musky scent of cologne and sea-salted hair (the sleeves of his sweater were tucked beneath my nose).

Maybe for a moment—just one sickly, self-indulgent moment—I could pretend it was really him.

I inhaled deeply through my nose. “You really weren’t kidding when you said you would haunt the next owner of this house,” I whispered as light-heartedly as I could, my voice obscured by the heavy rain pouring onto the roof.

He smiled, and it was one of the most heart-wrenchingly beautiful things I had ever seen. I think I might have given him one in return, though I couldn’t be too sure because the concept of smiling had become so foreign. The last time I was truly happy was… the last night we spent together. In each other’s arms, safe and warm and together.

And then he was gone. Just like that.

Cressida, whom I had only spoken to once in Thirteen when the war ended, was the one to tell me how it happened. Katniss was too personal, too close to him; Peeta’s instability rendered conversation futile. So, I had asked Cressida to tell me every detail—every expression on his face, every word he screamed. I don’t know why. Maybe it was so I could cling onto those last few minutes where he was still alive and breathing, despite dying and bleeding; or so I could replay the moment over and over in my head, as if somehow, someway, I could change his fate.

“He talked about you all the time,” she had told me. “Actually, I don’t think he ever spoke of anything but you. No one minded, though. While we were out there, no one ever really smiled, but every time your name was mentioned, Finnick would get this great big grin on his face, and it was impossible not to look at him and start smiling as well.

So, we all started asking questions about you: ‘What colour is her hair? Her eyes? Where did you meet? What are her hobbies?’—just to see him smile… A week passed, and it was like we all knew you inside out. It was all we could do to hang on to some shred of happiness, even if it meant talking about a girl who, to all of us, was a stranger.”

I was inconsolable after that.

She kept talking, but my sobs had drowned out most of her words, so much that I had asked her to retell me everything later in the day, despite inducing the same outcome. So, she told it to me again, just as she did the day after that and the day after that and so on until I returned home to District Four.

“He also spoke about how you never felt comfortable living in the Victors Village. He had this idea that the two of you would move somewhere far away, outside the borders of District Four­, though he emphasised remaining by the sea was very important—something about how you looked while swimming during sunset and the water was all sparkly around you.”

At this point, she had been holding my hand, knowing full well how debilitating it was for me to hear. Then she had spoken with a quiet incredulity and a facial expression to match, as though she’d never encountered a love like ours before. “He wanted to build a house for you…”

He wanted to build a house for you.

And now he never would. Our love was too ephemeral for that to happen; destined to remain history; to be a memory.

Finnick's eyes stared into mine, the green hue now a dark grey from the overshadowing dimness of the room.

“I would’ve gone anywhere with you,” I whispered to him, placing my hand on the sheets between us. “I would’ve travelled thousands of miles away from this place. Would’ve lived in solitary, just the two of us, for the rest of our lives.” A warm tear tickled the bridge of my nose. His eyebrows scrunched together in shared anguish. “God, Finn, I miss you,” my voice broke. “I miss you so much.”

I contemplated crying, sobbing, screaming, or begging for him to come back, but I was just too tired. All my energy had been spent on grievance throughout the following day, and my eyes were growing heavier by the second as my body was sinking further into a state of relaxation.

Between slow blinks, I watched Finnick’s large hand move to rest atop my own, and at that point, I knew sleep would soon catch me because I swear I could feel his warm touch.

Images flashed through my mind—incomprehensible and melting together, yet somehow still graspable.

Sky blue water rippling with calm waves, the surface glittering in the setting sun. A white stonewall cottage fronted by soft, white sand and tall palm trees. Two plates of fruit-filled yoghurt and scrambled eggs on toast. Three pairs of footprints in the sand, one larger, one smaller, and another between them so delicately tiny I could fit them into the palm of my hand.

Sea-green eyes above me. Golden hair tangled between my fingers. Finnick standing in the wooden doorway of our white stonewall cottage wearing a cream-white sweater and rolled-up slacks. Finnick grinning deeply and then throwing his head back with laughter. Finnick standing in front of our bed, taking my hand in his and guiding me towards him. Finnick. Finnick. Finnick. Finnick. Finnick.

Finnick holding our child.

I was between worlds now, both indistinguishable from the other. My eyelids were drooping, and I was quickly growing insensate. Just before my eyes closed completely, I saw Finnick’s—he who wasn’t really my Finnick—lips move. It wasn’t in my bleak reality in which I heard him speak, but rather in my mind, and God, did his words offer the sweetest relief.

“I’ll see you when you fall asleep.”

[eds6ngel]

a cute eddie blurb based on a story i found on social media ♡

warnings: gn!reader. modern!eddie. first kiss. swearing. fluff!! [0.6k].

Walking out of Benny’s hand in hand, Eddie sighed before facing you, seemingly nervous in his post-date manner.

“I, um… I had fun.”

You beamed, “So did I, Eddie! This was so nice! I’d love to go out with you again if that’s okay?”

He stutters on his words, “Sure! Yes… I mean, yes.”

You giggle at his manly attempt at remaining calm, cool and collected, but you much preferred this anxious side of him. It was too endearing not to be smitten by him.

You didn’t want to push any boundaries, but Eddie seemed to be contemplating something himself. He was toying with your fingers, his eyes becoming more and more fixated on your soft, plush lips.

“Eddie?” you questioned, large eyes staring delicately into his chocolate-brown orbs. His skin is glistening from the sweat, bangs slightly sticking to his forehead, mouth agape as he stumbles over his speech, “Y-Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Was he dreaming? You, the most perfect person in Hawkins, wanted to kiss him? Of all people in this town? He thought he had fucked up the date already, considering the nervy state he had been in the entire time. He couldn’t even manage to get his food order right, eating the copious amounts of salad squashed into his juicy bacon cheeseburger that he never wanted, and asking you what your necklace stood for, meaning you had to share the devastating news of your grandmother passing away.

He felt like an idiot, that’s for sure. He was 99.9% certain that he would be hit with the classic, ‘I just don’t think we make a good fit,’ but now having not to drift off into a different realm, ground himself in the reality that you wanted to kiss him.

“U-Um, yeah! Sure!”

You smiled, placing each hand on either side of his cheeks. You could feel the warmth behind them, the physical sensation matching the rosy pink colour that had adorned them ever since you laced your fingers in between his after paying for your meals. You stood up on your tip-toes, closing your eyes as you leaned in.

As your lips touched, Eddie felt his head float amongst the clouds. Somehow, his hands managed to grip the sides of your waist, his fingertips squeezing into your tender skin. He moved his lips against yours slowly, appreciating the taste of you as his right hand came up to tangle its fingers amongst your locks.

However, the loud sound of beeping quickly makes you release from him, the annoying, high-pitched noise hurting your ears as Eddie looks at the watch in confusion, “What the fuck?”

He holds his watch up, you leaning close to him as you read the message. He had sworn he had silenced all notifications before he came out with you.

A red warning had appeared on his watch, stating ABNORMAL HEART RATE DETECTED. You look up at the wild boy with a wide smile, eyes sparkling with affection and adoration, “Is that because of me?”

He chuckles nervously, “Yeah… I mean, you’re just… you. You’re beautiful and amazing and so goddamn pretty—” He was going to continue, but quickly stopped himself. Wayne said not to become overwhelming with the praise, so he stopped in fear that it would scare you off.

But, with the feeling of your arms being thrown around his neck and your face nuzzling in his shoulder, maybe it would have quite the opposite effect.

You lean back to hold his head in your hands again, “That’s so precious, Eddie! Oh my gosh! I can’t believe I make you feel like that! I love it!”

And with your cheesy smile and your soft palms resting on his face, he knew that you were the only one for him. You were definitely a keeper.

taglist: @cosmorant @ye0nvibezzn @tlclick73 @superlegend216 @agxxb @babybatlover

eddie masterlist.

[secondarysefikura]

Idea based on the tall vampire lady from RE8, where Sephiroth is a tall vampire man living in a castle with his sons Kadaj, Yazoo, and Loz who kidnap and feed on the humans who come into their territory. Cloud and Tifa are newly weds on vacation who have found themselves lost near the vampires’ territory. As they’re looking around hoping to find someone who can give them directions, Cloud and Tifa are found by Sephiroth and his sons. As they’re be being taken to the castle Sephiroth finds himself smitten by this small angry blonde human who managed to stab him in the neck(it didn’t do anything to him but still). Sephiroth decides that instead of killing Cloud, he will turn him and he will become his mate and his sons’ new mother(he’ll be a much better mother to his sons’ then their birth mother who tried to kill them after she gave birth to them, last time he ever impregnates a female human), and eventually they will have more children together. Tifa is taken to the dungeon while Cloud is taken to Sephiroth’s chamber to be turned and claimed. Fortunately for Cloud he’s able to escape before that can happen and is now desperately trying to get to the dungeon and rescue Tifa, so they can escape together. All while being hunted down by four vampires, three of which keep calling him mother, and the fourth one keeps referring to him as love and doll to name a few. And it doesn’t help that Cloud over hears that Sephiroth once he turns Cloud he wants Tifa to be Cloud’s first meal as a vampire, and that’s the only reason she’s still alive, making it even more important that Cloud isn’t caught by Sephiroth or one of his sons.

Yes. YES!!!

I'm imagining that the process of being turned and claimed is one that is steeped in tradition. It's a rite of passage, in a way. Hence, Cloud only manages to escape Sephiroth's chambers because Sephiroth had to leave him alone briefly to get some materials for the ceremony.

Bonus if Cloud is wearing a bunch of jewelry; things that make his running loud to trained vampire ears. He really has no choice but to hide from his pursuers anytime they approach, covering his mouth with his hands as he tries to breath as softly as possible. There are definitely a few times where Cloud almost gets caught, only for Kadaj to get cocky and decide that he wants to play cat and mouse a bit longer. He's so sure that Cloud won't escape him, he doesn't mind giving his future mother a 5 second head start.

Kadaj, five seconds later when he can't find Cloud anywhere: SHIT.

[bizzyboysbizzydays]

Bizzyboys first dates

I love these lil guys leave me ALONE. I'm self insert trash and that's just how the cookie crumbles. I am cringe but I am free.

Yes this is based off of the post about bad dates with the Bizzyboys i think it's so funny

Patty: -I think Patty would prefer an exciting first date! Things like amusement parks or fairs, extremely high energy with LOTS of things to do. -He'd want to win you EVERY toy he possibly could. Whether or not hes good at the games is an entirely different story. -Big on PDA and affection. It might be a first date but he is hugging and hand holding like it's his last day in the Grove and he'd DIE if he didn't get attention. -Tries to pay for literally everything like the lil gentleguy he is. -Date ends with you giving him a kiss on the head, he is on cloud 9 and ready to pronounce his eternal love.

Bananathaniel: -As a cinephile obviously the first date is going to be a movie date. You two watch the movie in complete silence and go out for dinner afterwards in which the floodgates are open. -You better either be REALLY into Ban, or REALLY into movies, because he is going to talk the entire time about the movie and it's themes, camera work, acting, everything. -It's hard to be too mad about it, when he asks for your opinion and is genuinely interested in your thoughts (even if he might argue with them a little. or a lot.) -Not a lot of PDA on the first date since it's entirely focused on the movie but you do get a nice hug afterwards :)

Alexei: -This is the most obvious first date ever. You go to a fast food place and eat until you both almost pass out. -There's no PDA. Only voracious feasting that terrifies the employees and gives small children nightmares. -The date ends with you both on a couch passed out with cheeto dust everywhere. It's not your couch. It's not even Alexei's couch. How'd you get into Capochin's house.

Vibiano: -Another restaurant but this one is fancier. -It's a pretty average date, small talk and awkward chatter. -He keeps checking his phone every 4 minutes before he "suddenly gets a phone call" and has to leave, sticking you with the bill. -He makes it up later with a fully customized outfit left at your door and a note to call him later so he can "make sure it fits properly". -It does fit properly, and he takes you out on a better date for the next one.

Grujaja: -How'd you even manage to get a date with this guy. -Extremely lowkey date. You hang out in a quiet field somewhere. -You do have to constantly reassure him that it's ok and everything is fine. -If he hears a loud noise he'd 100% bail and you'd never see him again due to the embarrassment. -Maybe next time just do a home cooked meal.

Capochin: -Genuinely how did you get him to agree to this. -Despite how he tries to come off, he is extremely nervous. -The date would be something chill, he would've preferred to just. Invite you to his house and make a meal there but ultimately settled for a casual (but not too casual) restaurant. -His ass HAS NOT dated since he was around his 20s. Forgot how to date at all, actually. -The date ends with him feeling like the dumbest mother fucker ever and you having to reassure him it wasn't THAT bad and you'd had worse. -Date ends with you giving him a kiss on the cheek and him speed walking away in embarrassment.

BONUS!!!

Inspekta: -The date takes place in his domain, obviously. He's wrapped around you holding you close as you watch movies on one of the various screens under his desk. -He talks a LOT during the movie, he needs your constant undivided attention. -If you ignore him for too long he'll squeeze around you tighter and tighter like a constrictor until you finally acknowledge him again. -It's as private as a date could get, if you ignore Capo irritably bringing in snacks for the both of you. -Date ends with Inspekta patting you on the head and telling you you should come back soon. Preferably tomorrow. For longer.

Hector: -Similar to the Inspekta date, but this time its on the couch with him bear hugging you from behind. -Less talkative, but still squeezes you when he wants attention (all the time). -You probably lose feeling in a few limbs from how little movement you get, but it's hard to be mad at him when he falls asleep with his head resting against your shoulder. -It's less cute when you realize he's heavier than you and you can't escape.

[astiinfotech1]

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[kekaki-cupcakes]

Hi uhm sorry if I bother you: could you please write Percy x daughter of Disciplina (minor Roman goddess of discipline) who’s very uhm well rules-oriented, similar to Jason and cold and military though secretly loves cute and chaotic things (though doesn’t partake) so it’s kind of a rival to lovers situation please? And they meet when Percy arrives at the camp Jupiter? Thank you so much and feel free to decline ofc! Bye bye! Ps: loved your Nike series and I can’t wait for the Hypnos piece too! Take your time though, ofc!

This was a cute idea <3 and I liked writing about Camp Jupiter I haven't had any roman demigod requests before! sorry it took so long I'm multitasking so much haha but this ended up as 2.1k words lol <3

rules orders kisses instructions---Percy Jackson x roman child of Disciplina

»»————-　★　————-««

-First of all, it wasn’t your fault that you managed to bring the most chaotic, rule breaking, cute, carefree, demigod into Camp Jupiter.

-You were posted just inside the borders, watching for monsters and the like, and though you’d never admit it, it was one of the quietest and therefore dullest spots for patrol. Nothing ever came through, and you spent most of your time sharpening your weapon and spotting cloud animals. Until something did come through, namely, the bane of your entire existence. 

-He came running over the hills with a panda pillow pet and a bronze sword, followed by a hoard of screeching monsters, telling ‘Perseus Jackson’ that today was the day he would die. At the time, rescuing this random demigod was the right thing to do, but looking back, if you had just let him be trampled by the contents of Tartarus, it would have fixed a lot of your problems. Instead you opened the gates to Camp Jupiter and let him in.

-Both of you stood beyond the gates, which were made out of some solid metal that the Trivia kids had installed. They had never disclosed what it was that vaporized the monsters the second they touched it. You should probably check in with that, now that you think about it. 

-Perseus had made quite the fuss when the first cohort and the praetors showed up, making giant hands out of one of the rivers that ran along the edge of the city and then being introduced by a god. He took it all in his stride, and even had the nerve to back-talk Octavian [something you’d never admit to wanting to do yourself]. 

-You hated him immediately.

-Well, maybe not hate, hate was a strong word for simple feelings. You would just rather if Percy [he had corrected the use of his name immediately. You were grateful. Perseus was a stupid name.] had a bit more respect for the way Camp Jupiter worked, and stopped teaching the younger soldiers swear words during meal times. 

-A few days into his stay, he approached you in one of the large canvas tents set up. You’d been mapping out which of the hills you were going to use as a base in the next war game with Dakota, when he tripped on his shoelaces and righted himself, grinning at both you and Dakota. 

-Apparently he wanted to thank you for not leaving him out the border to fight off the army of monsters on his tail, and volunteered to help out on your team during the war games in return.

-You told him you would consider once he learnt to tie his shoelaces properly.

-You’d then assumed that would be the last of it, thankfully, [although for some reason you’d scan the fifth cohorts section sometimes for a mess of black hair, but you were just trying to keep the younger soldiers vocabulary appropriate. Obviously.] and spent the rest of the day taking poisonous bows and quivers off the children of Mercury, and explaining to the daughter of Pluto that she wasn’t allowed to ‘have a go at summoning a horse skeleton for funsies’.

-Reyna marched between the canvas tents with her metal dogs, barking instructions and sending out a few Helios kids and legacies as medics.

-Ten minutes before the game officially started, when the opposite side were posted up too far away to see their silhouettes on the mountain ridge, and the children of Mars were untying the war elephant from its posts and readying it for battle, Percy burst back into the tent. One of the leopards getting a spiked collar attached to its neck growled, but settled back down when Dakota spoke sharply to it. Lavinia went to shoo Percy out, but something about the easy grin on his lips made you wave a hand, and Lavinia went back to instructing the Vulcan children. 

-Percy ran to you, and in quite the untimely fashion, kicked one of his feet up onto the battle plans, mud and dirt smearing across the maps and charts. Before you could yell at him, you spotted his shoes. 

-“How’s that for being allowed to fight?” Somehow, in the few hours he’d had spare, Percy had acquired a pair of purple velcro sneakers. 

-You stood there for a moment, and then narrowed your eyes at him, folding your arms as well, just to make your point. “If you left Camp Jupiter I will have to report you, you know that, right?”

-He just smirked. “You like me too much. And don’t worry, I traded Octavian's diary for them, some Venus legacy guy had a spare pair. Purple isn’t really my color, but watch!”

-Thankfully, he took his feet off the table, but a moment later he was running across the cramped tent, and threw his arms out for balance as small wheels popped out of the soles of his shoes. A coat of shields crashed to the floor, and the leopard in the corner jumped to its feet and scampered out. Someone yelled and Percy proceeded to spin in a circle and then slip and fall.

-For the first time, you became annoyed that your reflexes were so good, because Percy was sprawled out in your arms, which were under his, keeping him from becoming impaled by a stray electric spear. You held your breath for as long as you could, pulling your expression into one blank of emotions, but then you couldn’t hold it any longer. 

-You laughed.

-Pery turned around, pulling his shirt down and skidding a little on the floor. His green eyes you only just noticed were the same shade as the lake near the stables were wide, and he was slack jawed. 

-Your stomach started to hurt as you giggled, “what?”

-“You can laugh!”

-“Of course I can laugh, Perseus, I am a person.”

-“I didn’t know you could laugh. And it’s Percy, don’t make fun of me.”

-You went back to glaring at him quickly, and he visibly dulled. You just rolled your eyes and began brushing mud dewy grass of the battle plans. He peeked over your shoulder, hair tickling your neck, so you planted one of the little markers Dakota liked to use to show where people would be patrolling. 

-Percy pouted, and you quickly looked away from his mouth [why were you even looking at his mouth?], “can’t I be the horse?”

-“The Pluto girl is the horse, she’s making sinkholes along the tracks to our base, trying to dilute the flow of soldiers. You can be the dog, it’s cute.”

-“You think I’m cute?”

-His smile when he said that was in fact, cute, but you didn’t tell him that. Instead you picked up another of the little coloured markers, and moved it to where you’d initially put the dog. “Fine, you can be the toucan, because you’re an imbecile.” 

-“No wait, I wanna be the dog now... And what did toucans ever do to you?” 

»»————-　★　————-««

-You became quite accustomed to the sound of smooth clicking, a scrape, and then Percy yelping and bumping into the back of you over the next few days. 

To the north, beyond the gods, lies the legion's crown. 

Falling from ice, the son of Neptune shall drown.

-You didn’t see him off. 

-You knew it wasn’t polite, the entirety of the army stood on the shore as Percy, the Pluto girl, and the boy who cared for the war elephant waved them off. But you stayed at your post by the border instead, watching cloud animals and pretending not to see someone sinking to their death in each one.

-But the army didn’t sit with him at every meal because technically, you were a superior and didn’t have an assigned legion, you had just usually sat with Reyna or Jason. You’d eat the breads and nuts and fruits the satyrs and harpies brought while Percy ate everything in sight that was even slightly blue. 

-The army wasn’t given a daisy chain as a crown when you showed Percy through the gardens, the trees and flowers acting as borders to the paths leading across the city in the direction of the universities and shops. The army didn’t find an old basketball in the weapons shed and learn to play with Percy, because he couldn’t remember playing before, but he was good. 

-The army didn’t sneak him into the stables because really you weren’t allowed but somehow the rearing black stallions calmed him when his breathing got too fast and uneven. 

-The army didn’t sit at the edge of the river bed while he ducked under and splashed around like a happy duckling. That stopped when the prophecy was first spoken. Percy skirted around puddles on the last day.

»»————-　★　————-««

-There was blood. Lots of it. Smoke wafting from the scattered fires and screams piercing the muggy air. 

-You held your weapon tightly in your hand, back to back with Dakota as he brandished a baseball bat wound tight with thorny vines that curled and writhed like snakes. 

-Monsters crawled over the mountain ridge in waves, at least half of them squashed by the giant stomping in circles and roaring, creating miniature earthquakes with each step. Alcyoneus was forty feet tall, his skin a metallic sort of color that shone like the sun Helios was bringing into the middle of the stormy sky. 

-The fifth legion ran into places, maps and diagrams you’d drilled into them, finally being put to use as they worked effortlessly. The war elephant had doubled, somehow, and both charged at the violent giant currently ripping the roof off the stables, knocking him sideways.

-For a short moment, you assumed maybe a finger had been cut off from the monster, as a bronze sort of color streaked across the horizon, but then it came to a stop in front of Lavinia, who was dragging an unconscious demigod across the battlefield in the direction of the hidden medic base by the university. 

-Hazel, the Pluto girl [you’d finally learnt her name] sat atop a stallion, her cavalry helmet over her curly hair. You made eye contact, and her shoulder sunk, but you weren’t sure if it was with relief or disappointment. You couldn’t see her expression from across the bloodstained distance, but you could see the blue harpy foaming at the mouth behind her, talons outstretched. 

-You turned to Dakota, but he was already kneeling a little, bracing himself as you stepped on one of his hands, and then he launched you forwards and up, up into the smokey air filled with screams and wails. 

-Time slowed a little as you positioned yourself, wind whipping your eyes and making them sting. Hazel ducked as you flipped over her and landed on the Harpies back, rolling it away and further down the hill. Talons raked your cheek, and you whacked it over the head, hard.

-The bronze streak was gone already. Somehow the horse was running vertically up the side of the giant, and then began circling its neck.

-The sleeve of your purple shirt was ripped free and you held it to your face, the deep cuts dripping down your neck and already staining your skin in dark red blotches. Pain prickled, but you felt a chill down your spine, and by the time you had turned, the horned snake’s jaw was already unhinged, fangs dripping with something dark and oily and ready to bite.

-Your heart slowed, or maybe it sped up, all you knew was that it was the only thing you could hear.

-You held your arms in front of your scratched up face and tried to roll, but the snake's tail was already heavy across you, pining you to the blood stained cobblestone ground. You reached for where your weapon had been lost in the wrestle a moment before, but then there was a dragged out squelching sound and a ‘shing’. 

-The snake froze, and then its head slipped off its body, landing by Percy’s feet.

-He launched forwards as quickly as the snake had, only he pulled you from the cocoon of scales, panting. Your hands shook, and Percy’s eyes widened when he spotted the splatter of blood on your neck, his face going pale.

-You shook your head weakly, “just my cheek, it’s not bad.”

-He nodded, and then you were once again wrapped up tightly, this time by Percy’s arms. You noticed vaguely that he was actually pretty buff, but then you felt your eyes prickle with emotion.

-He stepped back quickly, ducking his head, “sorry, I..”

-“You didn’t drown.”

- “I technically did but it’s all good now-” 

-You cut him off with another hug, your face buried in his shoulder, probably covering him in your own blood as well, but Percy didn’t seem to mind when he hugged you back, chest heaving. You sniffed, trying not to cry, hands tight around his hoodie, “you smell like incense and hay.”

-“That, yeah that explains a lot of it actually.”

-“You don’t get to go on another quest without me, that’s an order.”

-“Yes please.”

»»————-　★　————-««

[yawnderu]

Mann Gegen Mann - Nikto x Reader

cw: descriptions of romantic(?) cannibalism, zombification, established relationships, double suicide after getting infected. Honestly just a dark and niche self-inducing fic, read at your own risk.

''Shh, shh...'' Nikto cooed, holding your bloodied body close to his as his gloved hand caressed your hair, trying his best to calm you down despite knowing your time was limited. Much to his dismay, you were bitten in the arm by a zombie before he could protect you. The zombie apocalypse hit the world unexpectedly, and not even the highly armed military bases could hold on for much longer against the horde of the living dead.

''It'll be okay, Солнышко. We're here.'' He whispered into your ear, yet you could barely register his words with the sound coming from within you, skin rippling from the inside as the virus fought its way into your brain, even when you tried to resist it. The urge to drink something was growing more and more, taking away your will along your humanity.

''I'm... so thirsty, baby.'' You managed to mutter out, looking up at him with teary eyes. The same beautiful eyes that once were Nikto's safe haven were slowly clouding up, breaking his heart as he knew eventually, they'd be a blank, milky white. Nikto sucked in a breath, biting the inside of his cheek beneath the mask as he nodded his head, hand gently still running up and down the length of your hair as he tried to think.

''Does it hurt?'' He knows it does. He knows the pain is agonizing, yet he was trying to gain time as he came to a decision. His brothers in arms are all infected or holed up God knows where, and despite being a highly trained soldier, armor and bullets can only get you so far against thousands of infected.

''Here.'' He gently sat you up, removing his vest before he lifted off his shirt, silently offering his body up for you to take. For you to always have a part of him, forever. Your hesitant gaze was met with one full of pure love, his baby-blue eyes glossy as he looked down at you, nodding his head to encourage you.

Your hand slowly trailed up and down his strong stomach, feeling up the muscle that you always adored. His breath hitched at the touch of your cold fingers, muscle rippling and flexing underneath a thin layer of fat. His eyes closed once your face got closer to his lower body, unable to hold in the thirst for much longer and wanting anything that could quench it despite knowing better.

Your cold lips kissed his abdomen, tongue licking up and down his defined abs before your teeth sank into him. Your bite was met with a pained growl, making you look up just to see Nikto keeping his eyes shut. You drank up the blood like a broken man finding shelter, finally finding something that eased up your thirst, yet your broken brain wanted more. Your jaw clamps shut on the skin you were biting, pushing your head back slightly to rip off the bundle of muscle and skin, chewing on it like it was your last meal- and in a way, you knew it was.

''Умница.'' He praised, eyes opening to look down at you lovingly, removing his gloves just to gently wipe the blood trail dripping down the corners of your lips, slowly pushing it back into your mouth. He sat down next to you, arm wrapped around your waist as he brought you closer, his masked face finding shelter into the nape of your neck.

Your own brain was struggling now that you had a taste of what you craved, your cognitive functions slowly but surely shutting down thanks to the infection. You don't register him lifting off the fabric part of his face cover until you can feel a set of teeth sinking into you, taking a bite of the supple skin and muscle on your shoulder, struggling to chew on and swallow the raw tissue.

Your hand goes to the bottom of his face cover, gently pulling it off and revealing his face. The face you saw only a year after dating, the same face he never thought anyone could ever love, the same face that was so scarred he barely looked human, just a husk of who he once was. His smudged eyeblack covers most of his face, yet he still looks like a work of art in your eyes. Your fingers trail up and down his cheek gently, feeling the bumps of the raised skin as you look up at him with nothing but adoration in your eyes.

''Promise you'll meet me there.'' Your strained voice asked and he nodded his head, allowing himself to be vulnerable, a privilege only you get to have.

''да, always.'' He nodded his head once, hand gently caressing the nape of your neck, his thumb tracing the outline of your jaw.

''Always.'' You repeated, looking down at the gun his other hand held on your stomach. It was a silent agreement, the corners of your lips tilting up into a small smile as your shaky hands grabbed the weapon, trigger finger itching once you held it against your temple.

''I love you.'' Your eyes were locked with his as he cradled you on his lap, lining you up perfectly so your head was right in front of his. His arms wrapped around your waist, a gentle kiss from his scarred lips placed on the back of your head as he held you as close as possible.

''We love you too.'' His deep voice replied, taking a combined deep breath when his hand held your wrist, helping your infected body hold the gun. You closed your eyes, blurry memories of your time together flashing within seconds, making you smile as the trigger was pulled. Limp bodies lying with each other, mouths bloodied as you both united until the very bitter end.

Солнышко= Sunshine.

Умница= Good/Smart girl.

[chaussetteblanche]

just like the wind - II

word count: 1'800 warnings: none

“Where are you taking us?” Frodo asks, trailing behind you and Strider, amidst his friends.

“Into the wild.” Your companion does not bother turning back. Back in the day, his lack of explanations and emotion used to irritate you infinitely. Today, you know why he does it. The less the Hobbits know, the better. Not long after, the halflings start whispering among themselves. You can hear what they are saying with your elf abilities, but seeing as they aren’t keeping very quiet, you’re certain Strider can too.

“How can we know these Rangers are friends of Gandalf?” Merry asks, rightfully suspicious. 

“We have no choice but to trust them.” Frodo seems less anxious than he did the previous evening. 

“But where are they leading us?”

“To Rivendell, Master Gamgee,” you answer over your shoulder, “to the House of Elrond.”

“You hear that?” Sam all but squeals, “Rivendell! We’re going to see the elves!” You bite back a scoff and share an amused glance with Strider. The Hobbits had been travelling with an elf for the better part of a day: you. You are reminded of your hood with a small gust of wind. They had only seen part of your face, which was why they didn’t know you were an elf yet.

You and Strider have to adjust your pace to the Hobbits’ little legs and general unfitness. When you stop for the umpteenth time, you suppress a frustrated groan. Strider sighs as he turns around, expecting to find the Hobbits hunched over, catching their breaths or complaining about the pain in their legs. 

“Gentlemen,” he calls, “we do not stop ‘till nightfall.” Confused at his words, you turn around as well and let an amused smile grace your features. You find the Hobbits sitting on the ground, ruffling through their bags, clearly hoping to have a meal.

“What about breakfast?” Pippin asks, a confused frown on his face. “You’ve just had it.” You cross your arms over your chest, brows furrowed.

“We’ve had one, yes,” Pippin’s voice is conciliating. “What about second breakfast?” He raises an eyebrow. Strider sends the Hobbits a strange look before trudging off, continuing your journey. You shake your head with a small chuckle before following your companion. 

“I don’t think they know about second breakfast, Pip,” Merry sighs as he slings his bag over his shoulders.

“What about elevensies?” Pippin splutters, “Luncheon? Afternoon tea? Dinner? Supper? They know about those, don’t they?”

“I wouldn’t count on it.” You feel sorry for the little creatures and throw each of them an apple you’d grabbed off a tree earlier.

When the cover of darkness starts instilling itself, you stop at the bottom of a hill. Remains of a tower still reside on its peak.  “This was the great watchtower of Amon Sûl,” Aragorn speaks. 

“We shall rest here tonight,” you state, walking up the hill. Weary from the trying day, the Hobbits lay down their bags and huddle together. You and Strider decide to take turns either keeping watch or scouting the base of the hill for possible threats. You start the first round and, after laying down your bag, being your stroll about the hill.

When a light catches your eye, you realize that the Hobbits had started a fire. Heart hammering inside your chest, you curse their ignorance and rush towards them. The flame goes out but when you perceive the shrieks of the Nine Riders, you know it’s too late. You see the Wraiths all but fly up the hill and push your legs to go faster, breaths coming out in quick, white clouds in the cold night. When you finally reach the top of the hill, you assess the situation before placing yourself between the helpless Hobbits and the Riders.

Knowing there was no time to fetch Strider, you pray he joins you soon as you pull out your sword. You jab at the monster the closest to you and slash at another. You narrowly dodge a blade, hearing your blood pump in your ears. You manage to keep them off for a little while before the Riders turn their attention to you rather than Frodo, who you were standing in front of. With all their blows aimed at you, you barely have time to dodge each hit. You realize with horror that it would only a matter of seconds before you were overpowered. Nine wraiths against one half-elleth, you stood no chance.

It's no surprise when you block a jab aimed at your neck and are suddenly pushed to the side. You fall to the ground with a grunt. A heavily armoured foot nearly crashes into your face, you just manage to roll out of the way in time. You push yourself to your knees, pulling out your dagger with a snarl before you’re picked up and thrown into the air. 

What the-

The ground barely has time to look far away before it’s hurtling towards you. The scream you hadn’t been conscious of it cut off when you plummet into the ground with a harsh “thump”. You gasp, your breath having been knocked out of you. What feels like forever later, you’re greedily gulping in air, lying flat on your back. You groan in pain as you push yourself up, coming back to your senses. Suddenly, you feel everything. The pain in your skimmed knees, the large bruise on your hit, the cut in your cheek and your bruised and bleeding nose. 

You painstakingly make your way up the hill again, clutching your most-probably bruised ribs. You push yourself to get there as fast as you can, but you are too late. When you reach the top of the hill, Sam is kneeling on the ground next to Frodo’s motionless body and Strider is trying to fight the Wraiths off. You’re at his side in a second, fighting with your dagger, your sword long forgotten. 

You manage to fight four of the Riders off and set fire to the other five. Their screams would forever be etched in your mind. When the threat is no more, you hunch over, leaning on your knees, catching your breath. Strider puts a hand on your shoulder, panting.

“Are you alright?” he asks, concern lacing his tone as he takes in your injuries. He wipes at the blood on your chin, brows furrowed. You don’t have time to answer him as the Frodo’s cries of pain reach you both. 

“Strider! Ira!” Sam panics, “Help him!”

Clutching your aching ribs, you kneel beside the Hobbit. You hiss as the pain in your knees as you examine the wound in Frodo’s chest. Strider picks up the blade the Hobbit had been stabbed with, but the blade turns to ash the second it’s picked up. He lets the hilt fall to the ground with a clatter. You share a knowing, worried look. 

“He’s been stabbed by a Morgul blade.” Strider offers a rare elaboration for the Hobbits. 

“This is beyond my skill to heal,” you turn to your companion, “He needs Elvish medicine.”

Strider nods and picks up Frodo, still groaning in pain. You resume your trek towards Rivendell more hastily than before. The Hobbits almost have to jog to keep up with your long, worried steps. You illuminated the path with a torch while Strider made sure Frodo didn’t fall off the horse you had brought along with you.

“We’re six days from Rivendell! He’ll never make it!” Sam voices your thoughts. Though you know he’s right, you don’t answer. Neither does Strider. Sam uselessly cries Gandalf’s name into the wind, and you set your jaw. That wizard would have some explaining to do when you’d next see him.

After a few hours, you stop walking at Strider’s command. As bags are being unpacked, you turn to Strider. 

“Strider, if we want Frodo to have any chances of survival, we must continue to Rivendell.” 

“That is far too dangerous. We’ve already walked enough during the night. Fire brings us unwanted attention,” argues Strider.

“It is the only way. This poison travels extremely fast,” you insist, taking a step closer to him. “We wouldn’t stop, and the Riders wouldn’t be able to catch up with us. It’s the better option.”

“Look at them!” Strider snaps quietly. “They are not made for this! They have about ten meals a day! You cannot expect them to walk continuously for six days! They are stay-at-home creatures; they are no Rangers! And even less are they Elves!” As the volume of his voice increases, the Hobbits start listening in on your conversation. They seem to really see you for the first time, without your hood and in the firelight. If they notice your elf traits, they do not comment. You feel your temper rising quickly.

“I am not relying on their strength, I am relying on their determination and love for their friend,” you spit before turning to the Hobbits: “We would barely stop. We’re running out of food and are being chased by Wraiths. Make your choice.” Merry and Pippin exchange panicked looks, unsure of what to say.

“Look, all I know is that we’re wasting time, here! We’ll ride!” Sam exclaims. You nod and send him a small smile. You admire his heart. You start picking up your things.

“This is your problem, Ira,” Strider hisses as you trudge past him, “You never think about the consequences!”

“I do think of consequences! Right now, the consequence to us continuing at this pace would be Frodo’s death! I am trying to avoid that!”

“And you would prefer three Hobbits to die instead?”  “They can take it. However, I’m all ears if you have another solution,” you snap. He remains silent.

You stop three days later to rest for the night, despite your protests. You have enough knowledge of healing and medicine to know that Frodo will not survive much longer. You have come up with a solution, but you refrain from sharing it with Strider. You know he would not approve, and some things are easier without asking for approval. After making camp and waiting for the Hobbits to fall asleep, you tell Strider you would take the first guard. He nods. Things have been tense since your argument but neither of you are willing to back down.

Once you are sure he is asleep, you pack your bag with a small amount of food, making sure the other had enough left. You write a little note explaining your departure to Strider before mounting the horse and setting off. Just before you’re out of sight, you throw a twig at Merry. The young Hobbit shoots up and shakes Strider awake. Strider finds your note and shakes his head, pursing his lips. 

You disappear into the night, unaware of the troubles ahead of you. 

[aylish91]

Could I ask for a Leviathantale Nightmare x Skeleton Cecaelia reader? Can you base it off this picture:

Or even the one you reposted from me? You don't have to if you don't want to.

(by the way, the picture attached here is based off of cats cleaning each other with their tongues. Though it might be kinda cute as an idea.)

Hello, hello Fluffy! I loved your art! Thanks again for letting me know about and see them! I enjoyed the conversations too. I hope this meets your standards my friend!

~ ~ ~

Grooming Bonds

You picked at the exposed joints in your hands, doing your best to get the leftover fish slime and sand out of the exposed magic. There had been a particularly fruitful hunt earlier in the evening and everyone had slowly dispersed into their respective piles to preen now that the meal was over.

Having dragged Dust back into the main nest, Axe held him down while he meticulously picked at the vertebrae of the smaller mer’s back. It had taken a bit of finagling, but Axe had managed to get Dust’s staple hoodie and scarf carefully placed to the side for the rare show of bones. Dream and Cross weren’t far from the pair, helping groom each other while Killer teasingly flicked sand at them with his tail from his position on “the rock”. Understandably, while Dream reverted to stifled giggles, Cross swiped at said tail and threatened to attack if Killer didn’t stop.

In all, after such an eventful day, it was a typical relaxing evening.

However, you had yet to join any piles, not knowing where or who to insert yourself with. Axe would have made a good choice had he not been so focused on a squirming Dust. Dream probably wouldn’t have minded an extra companion, but Cross had asked him first. Killer and Dust… You weren’t sure if either of them would have taken you seriously.

So there you were. With the group but somehow still the odd one out. It was fine. You always had tomorrow to try again…

Or so you thought.

Watching from his perch on the ship, Nightmare suddenly swooped down to sneakily grab you from behind, placing himself close enough to the nest that his tentacles could idly circle the shiver while still giving them space. You were placed in the equivalent of a lap amongst his tentacles.

“It isn’t well that you still sit alone, little fish. These little moments are times of bonding. No one should be alone during such opportunities.”

There were a few chuckles from the others as you squeaked and tried to twist in his grasp, heat blossoming on your cheeks. “It’s okay! You don’t— I can do it myself. The others already had partners anyway.”

Nightmare didn’t take any head, humming knowingly before delicately looking over your vertebrae in a similar fashion Axe was. It was Dream that sympathetically called to you.

“You don’t have to be shy, even if there are already pairs. There is always room for one more. It is more important to have these kinds of bonding moments.”

Killer grinned, peppering Cross with an especially harsh sand cloud. “Lucky. I bet she just didn’t want to get near Criss Crossies stink ~ ”

“Hey!” It was hard not to laugh along with everyone when Cross finally did tackle Killer, their tails and limbs tumbling out of the nest to kick up stray seaweed and kelp. Nightmare only sighed and sunk lower into his mass.

“Pay them no mind. Although inconvenient, play can also be a form of bonding.”

You had to hide the blooming smile behind a bony hand, watching Dream move on to comb over Axe as he worked.

It was nice. In a way, their nonchalance about the whole thing helped ease your tense nerves. Even with the two wrestling mer, you found that you felt comfortable enough to continue cleaning your hands and arms. It did little to take your mind off the relaxing way Nightmares claws passed over you, but it gave you something to occupy you. It wasn’t until you were shifted against the leviathan’s large chest that you stopped what you were doing to look up.

You weren’t expecting the large glowing tongue that came next. For as long as you had been with the shiver, you had never seen Nightmare lick anyone when grooming. The boys did it all the time. Even Dream on occasion, but Nightmare had kept to himself or only helped with joints and recesses.

The sensation made you squeak and giggle, each new pass filling you with warmth as you closed your eyes. Then, to add to your surprise, a low purr began to vibrate against you and the water.

If you hadn’t been content before, you most certainly were now. Something about sharing this moment with the dark guardian made everything else seem trivial. You didn’t need to worry about your place if he was willing to be this close with you. You were allowed to be here. You were accepted and nothing else mattered.

He was kind, and you belonged.

“Better?”

Your tentacles curled and unfurled in embarrassment as you gave him a sly smile. You blamed your rising courage on the guardian.

“Yes. But, I should be returning the favor.”

Floating up, you licked his forehead before slipping down to cling and pick through the vertebrae closest to his shoulders and spine. It made a lovely glow brighten his face with that low purr flaring up again.

“O-of course. If you wish, little fish.”

The rest of the boys were awfully giggly the rest of the evening. But you could hardly complain.

Leviathan Master List Grand Master Post

[luxxtuxx]

you’re comfortable writing it, you could have reader have adhd and that means she forgets things a lot, lots of things being necessary things like eating and putting on her glasses/ contacts, you could have her forget to eat one day and since hobie is busy he can’t check her vitals until he pays her an impromptu visit and sees that she’s super tired and sluggish and he realizes she hasn’t been eating (you could totally take this any route you want I just think it would be cute if he sets himself an alarm to check her vitals just incase)

Her Condition After Week-Long Mission

Im changing up the plot a little because I can /hj

CW: Hobie being sappy, ACCURATE Potrail of ADHD (I have ADHD, so these are sorta based on real events).

Little quip: does anyone else go to use words, but they are so often used in a sexual manner that you gotta rephrase so you don't sound nasty?

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hobie knew of Y/N's Neurodivergentcy habits and made a pact with himself to not step in unless absolutely necessary. So the longer they were together, he always knew what needed to be stocked in the house at all times, and more ways to help during sensory overload.

This punk constantly checked on them, if he had the day off and they were hyper-focused on something, he'd keep all 3 different drinks at their respective temperatures and make sure they at least snack on something throughout working.

Then Miguel called him and told him he'd be gone on a mission for a week. Hobie knew it was important, so he tried to make sure they had everything in the apartment to be okay... with a kiss he left.

Day 1: Everything was normal, they woke up early, took a quick shower, started work, and worked all night, only breaking to go to the bathroom. They were so focused on work they had forgotten to eat something, and the light tinge from not eating they wrote off as 'Just missing Hobie"

Day 2: They felt a bit more drowsy than normal, but they made some eggs, ate half, and got distracted by the mountain of dishes, the dishes reminded them of the laundry, and doing the laundry reminded them to shower. And so by the time they remembered to sit down and work it was about....11:54pm Day 3: They had slept at their desk on accident so now, they were tired, in pain, and stressed because the boss moved the project date sooner. they only moved to go to the coffee pot and bathroom all day.

Day 4: They were knocked out in bed exhausted, they knew they had to keep working but they get so stressed out thinking about it. So at 8:30pm they grabbed hobies hoodie and sat on the floor curled up having mental paralysis because of the stress,

Day 5: The burnout started the fading hope of actually getting the work done. it came to the realization that for the past 2 days, they hadn't really eaten much.... sure they had snacked on some loose snacks and had a bunch of coffee, but no real full meals. They tried to shower to help calm the cricks in their back and how ill they were feeling

Day 6: They were back at work again pushing through, ignoring the stomach pain, and the headache. They had woken up and just felt like they were on the verge of a breakdown. Everything was too much right now, they just wanted their comfort human, comfort blanket, and comfort food all in the same place. They were so overloaded sensory wise, they couldn't speak on the company Zoom calls, they were using the chat, and even that felt like too much

Day 7: It was the day hobie came home... it was the day they had off from work. They drifted around like a zombie. They managed to eat a bowl of cereal in between waking up and taking a nap. After that nap, they just sat on the bed completely zoned out... after what felt like maybe 5 minutes, the clouds were gray and hobie was stepping through his portal.

When hobie saw they zoned out, all the coffee mugs towering on the desk and how pale they were. he knew immediately what happened. He quickly got out of all his spider gear, and he made sure to be careful as he moved them to lie down. He kissed their forehead... "Oh, my angel of music... it's okay, just rest. Tomorrow and Tuesday call in sick and I won't take any mission and we can just spend the next two days getting back into our routine, does that sound good?"

They meekly nod as they finally put themselves under the covers of the bed. "Im sorry, it was so much, the boss moved the project date up sooner. I really tried hobie. I mean it I really tried" they sniffle. hobie hugged them tightly and nods "I know angel, and I'm proud you tried, now rest."

BONUS: The next day in the evening

"Hobie..... thank you for everything," Y/N said cuddled into his chest, wrapped in their favorite blanket, eating their comfort food, watching their comfort movie. Hobie just hums "So explain to me again why you like this movie so much??"

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

You have told us how to court your average gallifreyan but how would one go about courting a Gallifreyan member of the Faction Paradox? Like are they in to freaky shadow stuff because I can not move my shadow like that? Like what major differences are their in courting a member of Faction Paradox compared to your average run of the mill Gallifreyan or Renegade?

And is it technically possible to court a Celestis or is that to messed up?

How should you court a member of Faction Paradox/a Celesti?

Courting a Faction Paradox member is very much NOT recommended by the Institute, however, here are some pointers you may find helpful:

🧠 Continue to be intellectually stimulating: Faction Paradox members are no different to normal Gallifreyans, at least when it comes to you remaining intriguing enough for them. Discussing the intricacies of time loops over dinner might score you points, and so might proposing a toast to the entropy of the universe.

🍽️ Pick the right meal: Forget the spaghetti bolognese; think of dishes that defy physics or even just culinary decency. Maybe go for a meal that exists in a state of quantum uncertainty or a dessert that tastes like regret, if you can find such a thing.

✔️ Embrace mind games: Members of the Faction Paradox love a bit of an enigma. A potential partner who can maintain an aura of mystery is likely to be very intriguing to them. A sudden, nonsensical act or something like an outburst of Woody Woodpecker laughter signals that you're not just another predictable human.

🗣️ Give what you get: They'll probably test you with some snappy comments and insults, cos they love a bit of bants. Give back what you get like some kind of interstellar rap battle.

🫨 Embrace the rituals ... and the chaos: The Faction love a good ritual. You might not be able to move your shadow in eldritch ways, but participation in or even just an appreciation of these can go a long way in impressing them.

👏 Laud their achievements (but not too much): Faction members like to hear how good they are. But not too much, because there's a fine line between providing compliments and just being a sycophant.

🔥 Show hatred for Gallifreyan traditions and customs: They really don't like them, so you shouldn't either. Down with Rassilon!

😍 Physical and telepathic boldness: Unlike typical Gallifreyans, Faction members might be more open to physical and telepathic intimacy, though this could vary, as some may just find it all primitive.

🌟 Courting a Celesti

The Celesti inhabit a realm of existence that transcends conventional physical and temporal boundaries, making the concept of "courting" as we understand it a challenging idea. It'd be a bit like trying to date a cloud.

If you do manage to get into a relationship with a Celesti, don't think in any way you'd be able to control or influence it. Sorry, but you're not driving that ride.

🏫 So ...

Once again, despite all of this, remember that every person is unique, with their personality traits, interests, and views. Tailor your approach based on the individual you're courting.

Related:

🤔|🧑‍🤝‍🧑🎁What gift would suit my Gallifreyan and their biology?

💬|💑💋How do Gallifreyans flirt?: How Gallifreyans approach flirting.

💬|💑💋How should you court a Gallifreyan?: Advice on dating a Gallifreyan.

Hope that helped! 😃

Any purple text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →😆Jokes |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired😴

[assortedvillainvault]

Hi, if it’s possible can I have a little one shot of NOS4A2 x villain!reader? Like them having their first meet cute while they’re both stealing from the same place and it ends in a sweet kiss??? (This is very self indulgent I know)

WELP Sky and Anon I'm SO sorry for the wait but please, take this humble offering - I decided to combine these asks so I hope you don't mind!! Also we love self indulgence here, that shit rocks.

NOS4A2 x Electromancer Villain!Reader

- It’s a Classic Situation. Mood lighting, delicate ambiance, privacy. A night on the prowl, An unexpected touch of hands, galaxy class security over an item he’d very much like to steal…

- HOW you didn’t notice each-other until you both reached for the priceless diamond in question is a mystery, he has no idea how you didn’t show up on his heat or energy sensors-! But despite how lovely you look when startled, darling…

- “While it’s always a pleasure to make like minded acquaintances-” he purrs, monocle eye narrowing at your look of shocked recognition. “- you should run along little morsel.” He scrapes his claws scraping over the diamond (and parts of your soft little fingers) in question. “This is my steal tonight. Get your own.”

- and really, that should have been it.

- Until you try to electrocute him and he goes from 30% battery to 120% in the space of a nanoclick.

- Oh darling darling darling! Helllooooo nurse he’s going to swoon-! He IS Swooning! He’s-

- (He’s managing to stumble-swing-float like a baked atom into every high security measure you both slipped past so elegantly before, giggling like crazy)

- In panic - as every security guard in this quadrant suddenly starts crashing toward you both and alarms scream through the halls – you make the executive decision to grab half a ton of punch drunk robot vampire and bolt. NOS takes this moment to coo appreciatively at whatever parts of you he can reach, babbling incoherently.

- Oh! Oh good looks and a meal he didn’t even have to pay for! Darling if you’d told him this would be a date he’d have put in a little more effort-! OW! Don’t pinch his wires, that’s mean :( oh but if you LIKE that then he can, he can- aww, no fun...:(

- Later, after you've thrown him onto your ship and made a sneaky getaway - He makes an effort to...reclaim at least some dignity.

- Since that was presumably your first villain rodeo – really darling its quite obvious stop squinting – he has decided to take pity on you and show you the ropes, as it were! In exchange for keeping him topped up, of course. A lovely mutually beneficial relationship, wouldn’t you say?

- No, do not get flustered, don’t do it- fuck.

- Don’t get me wrong. NOS4A2 is charming. He’s competent and knowledgeable and very very good at the villainy he was essentially ‘born’ into (when he’s not overcharged and drunk).

- He’s also frantically space-googling romantic lighting and space engagement rings and planning where he’s going to propose because by week three you’re pirouetting through the night sky together and adding lightning to your dramatic entrances and trading absolutely awful puns as you flee from star command and little sweetling he’s obsessed, absolutely enthralled. Little spark plug, his adorable storm cloud, his pet names come thick and fast and in front of ALL audiences.

- You’re going to become star command’s biggest headache because now that he has a free portable lunchbox NOS4A2’s previous corpse trails have gone cold. You two could literally be anywhere. Nebula is tearing out his moustache as we speak.

-XR has requested two years of paid shore leave as part of his trauma counselling - which would be fine if he hadn't also requested a nucelar bunker and half the sectors weapons to be requisitioned for his vampire-b-gone bermuda galaxy stay-away-vacation.

- Zurg, on the other hand, is frantically trying to figure out how to turn the entirely of his empire into a vegan plant based supply chain as it’s quite literally the only thing you two can’t fuck up. He receives a space nobel prize for sustainable advances in technology and uses it to turn every plant in the Gamma Quadrant carnivorous as a weekend project.

-the first time you kiss NOS in the middle of the thunderstorm he gets so high he blacks out. Turns out he's a sleep cuddler.