#I don't know what it is. And yet... it makes me wonder...

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twenty-one —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 3.5k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: I'm sorry lmaooo nine months... hopefully we can finish this thing!

The last bed you laid in smelled like lemon mint detergent. It was the full bed in your sister's guest room. Everything was crisp and white. They rarely had guests besides you. Some of your clothes stayed in that closet, one of your toothbrushes stayed in the connected bathroom, waiting for your visits. You'd awaken that last morning not thinking you'd never sleep in bed for another five years. You left it unmade.

This bed smells like pine and warmth.

Ghost's room is small and dimly lit. The ceiling slants so that one end is not tall enough for him to fully stand. There's a dresser and a nightstand, leaving only a sliver of floorspace.

After the metal latch on the door clicks shut, Ghost lays the blanket down and grabs a pillow for himself. That leaves the bed to you. Springs creak beneath your weight as you silently slip under a heavy, rustic quilt. The years-embedded scent of him wraps around you like a drug-induced fog. You hesitate to move, frozen as he flicks off the light. You wonder if he always locks the door or did it for you, to make you feel safer.

Only when his moving about ceases do you allow yourself to get comfortable. You cocoon your body under the quilt and turn to your side, closing your eyes.

A thought reopens them minutes later. You roll onto your back and speak into the darkness. "Have you known about this Switzerland place?"

For a moment, you think he's already asleep. Then, from below the bed by your feet, he says, "Heard of it."

"That is what you guys talked about, isn't it?" you ask absentmindedly.

"Among other things."

You sit up so you can see him, but all that you can make out is a dark shadow. "Care to share?"

"Some things are on a need-to-know basis," is all he gives.

"And I don't need to know?"

"Precisely."

It stings; you don't know why. "Some team we make, huh? Or I guess we're only a team when you need me to do something for you."

You quickly realize how petulant you must sound. The shadow sits upright. "They asked me to go with them. I said no. Too far. Too many variables that are hard to predict, and she's not ready for them. Happy?"

Happy—no, but relief replaces the slight uncertainty in your gut since your conversation with Nereida. Joining them was shut down. You wouldn't tell her, but their idea sounds asinine, whether or not that commune exists. The trip will be risky at best, fatal at worst. You're tempted to ask him how many days he thinks they'll recoup here before continuing their journey, but opt for sleep instead. He seems done with the conversation, too, lying back down. Then, you have the best sleep you've had in years in his bed.

When the sun turns pink, you awaken to a room void of Ghost. He's gone. It should be expected, but you'd thought he might wake you up to train like normal. Though, the past twenty-four hours haven't been normal. You look around, the details of his room more visible now. On the nightstand, there is a stack of books and you scan the titled spines. Mostly classics. One Hemingway. All tattered and read frequently. Beside them lays a silver chain attached to a dog tag. You gently finger the engraved metal so as not to move it out of place: Simon Riley. 

Snooping through his things is more tempting than you're willing to admit. You slip out of bed, socked feet padding over to the dresser. There are mostly papers. His map with the marked circle around what you now realize is Switzerland, a notepad with scribbled half-cursive on it, and then a faded photo beneath it. You freeze, breath hitching, as if you've done something dangerous just by stumbling upon it. Curiosity is thick in your chest, difficult to ignore. Gentle fingers reach to shift it out, revealing a picture that you know right away is of Blue and her mom. Blue is a baby. Maybe one year old. A woman with light brown hair holds her up, sitting on a bench in front of a playground. She's pretty and young. There is a sadness when you wonder if this is the only picture he has of them—before her death. Then, there is another feeling. You swallow it. 

You quickly slip the photo back just the way you found it and leave the room. The living room is quiet, people still sleeping. Price and Kyle's blankets are empty, but Kyle is the only one you spot outside. He sits on a tree stump, using a knife and some soap to shave his beard. He looks at you the moment you step outside.

"Good morning." He splashes a scoop of water on his smoothed jaw. 

You tuck your hands in your pockets. "Morning."

Without the facial hair, he looks even younger. Maybe in his early thirties. He pushes to his feet and you are reminded of his above-average height, though he is not as monstrous as Ghost. His form is lean, all muscle, with much less ink on his exposed skin. It is now you notice a scar across his jaw. Thick but faded. It trails halfway down his neck.

"Do you know where Ghost went?" you ask.

"Working on that truck of his. With Price."

A glance over your shoulder confirms it; you spot some movement behind the cabin where you know his truck sits. Guess that means no training. You nod. "So, um, you were in the military together, right?"

He takes a moment to look at you before answering. "Yeah. Same unit. Price was our captain."

"I kind of figured. He is... captain-y."

"'Captain-y.' Good way of putting it."

You're ready to turn away when he asks, "I hate to pry, but I admit I'm curious how you ended up here with him."

You force a smile. "It's not a very interesting story, sorry."

"I'm not looking for entertainment."

"What are you looking for, then?" You sound more defensive than you mean to. 

He shrugs. "Just curious, is all. You're a bit young."

"I'm not fucking him if that's what you're getting at." His brows lift to his hairline, and you're almost embarrassed for assuming that is what he was thinking, but before he can speak you add, "And you're young, too. I can handle myself just as you can."

"Of course." He shakes his head, moving his hand over his chest in earnest. "I apologize if I insinuated otherwise. Though, I am older than you."

"How old?"

"Let's see. Thirty-one last November. Or maybe it's just thirty. Hard to keep track, innit?" His smile is more genuine than yours, flashing white teeth. Then, his face turns more serious and he sighs through his nose, head tilting. "Look, I understand."

"Understand what?"

"I don't know your story, but I'm sure it is a gruesome one, and you have every right to feel uncomfortable. We'll be out of your hair soon enough. I appreciate you having us, though."

You want to tell him it's not like you have a choice; you're not the host here. But he already knows that. He's trying to be nice. "Thank you," you tell him honestly. 

Kyle bends to pick up his knife, wiping it off on his shirt. "So what did you need Ghost for?"

"Oh, nothing really."

"Care to accompany me for some breakfast, then?"

You consider saying no, but you need to hunt, anyway. Besides, you don't think he'd try anything in broad daylight. In another life, you may have looked at him with a more appreciative eye. But as you wade in silence through the woods, bow cinched to your back, you study him like an opponent. He's more agile than Ghost, likely quicker. When he crests the hill, it's hard to match his strides. 

Small conversation picks up by the pond and you find yourself easing up. You learn he's from London, too.

"What part?"

"Islington. I shared an apartment with my girlfriend. The rent was shit but it was worth it. Top floor loft with a good view and this insane Turkish bakery just below us." His tone is so casual you forget where you are for a second, until he suddenly throws his knife. It pins a squirrel to one of the trees. He bends to dislodge it and carries the dead animal, blood on his fingers. 

You keep walking. "What happened to her?"

"I had to make a choice. Go to London and find her, or go with Price and get my nephew, niece, and sister-in-law."

The understanding hits with the force of a fallen tree, and you pale. 

He notices your expression and continues. "I don't regret my decision. I've come to terms with it. There was no chance of me finding her in London, not with how quickly the infection spread there and the phone lines went out. I didn't even know where to look for her. At work? Home? Up north, things weren't as bad yet. I got in contact with my sister-in-law, Ameena, and told her to meet us at the small college up there where Nereida worked."

You recall what Nereida said, about Ari's mom and sister dying, so you don't pry about them. "What about your brother? Ari's dad?"

"He died before shit happened. He was in the military, too. Different unit. Multiple gun wounds while in Afghanistan a few years back."

"I think your story is more gruesome than mine," you admit.

His lips twitch ruefully. "Not a competition. Gruesome world, gruesome stories."

A more comfortable quiet settles. He is not so different than you, you realize. Only difference is he still has his nephew to look after.

The sun is already high, enough to make a collar of sweat appear on your shirt. There is a small dirt ridge you have to climb and the effort reminds you of the still-healing bruises on your body. A skirt of movement catches your eye and this time, you act quick. You use your bow to kill a squirrel up on a branch. It falls to the ground.

"Damn." Kyle whistles, low and long, as you wriggle the arrow free. "Hell of an aim you got."

"I'm... alright."

"No need to be modest."

You straighten and wipe your bloodied hand on your shirt. The movement lifts it, and you hear him suck in a breath behind you. A hand touches your shoulder, gentle than firm, as he spins you around. You're confused, then follow his gaze to the sliver of exposed skin on your hip. It's a gross yellow. 

"Twix." His voice lowers, and his friendly eyes are confused. 

Shit. "It's not whatever you're thinking."

"I'm thinking someone has put their hands on you." He frowns and shifts closer. "I know you have no reason to tell me things, but I can tell you I am not okay with that shit, no matter who it is."

You inwardly cringe. "Ghost is not... hitting me. Well, he is—"

"Fucking hell—"

"No, no. I asked him to." The bewildered look on his face makes you palm your forehead. "Not like that. Jesus. We train together, okay?"

"Train together," he repeats, shoulders loosening. 

"Yeah, like to help me get stronger." The embarrassment remains on your cheeks. "It's silly, really."

Kyle shakes his head and grins, clearly amused now that he knows you're not being abused against your will. "Not silly. Thought you two were into some kinky shit for a second there." He continues walking over a patch of dryer land, stepping onto a small rock and chuffing a breath under his nose. "Wouldn't have been surprised."

Your fingers absentmindedly tighten around the squirrel's limp neck. Your feet are frozen for a moment as you shake off a deep blush, then call out behind him. "Did you miss the part where I said I'm not fucking him!"

He simply laughs. 

---

The rest of the day passes in languid warmth. 

It's weird having so many people here, but you try to continue your day like usual, skinning the kill and washing your clothes. You learn more about Nereida as you eat together. You haven't had a female friend in... a long time. Save Blue. She used to be an arts professor at a private school. Sculpting, mainly. That is how she came to meet John Price, when he attended one of her galleries, buying a piece from her for far more than the listing price. He was just looking for a way to take me out to dinner. The way she speaks of him is that of a doting wife, despite everything they've been through. She tells you they were engaged before the infection. A makeshift ceremony at their old camp was the best they could do. 

"No wedding ring, but we do both have this." She pulls up her sleeve to show you a small scar carved on her shoulder—a faint letter 'J'. Price has the 'N'.

You're not sure what Ghost needed to fix on his truck that morning, or why it was important to do it with Price, but when you returned with Kyle, something felt off. Ghost's tension was palpable. He usually seems in thought, but even more-so. When Ari takes Blue for a quick ride on the horse—apparently Cherry used to be owned by his parents on their family ranch in Newcastle—he watches for only a minute before disappearing somewhere with Price. You pretend to need something from the cabin. You sneak around the back way, finding them again by his truck, muttering in low voices. Only pieces reach your ears.

"...through the rural parts. Not a straight path..."

"...could take months..."

"Got quite a bit of those."

Then, he's showing Price something under the tuck bed's tarp where you catch sight of that kayak once again. 

"Find it?"

A low voice in your ear. You startle and turn around.

"Huh?"

Kyle raises a brow. "You said you needed something."

Your hand flattens against the side of the cabin. "Right. Um, I just—"

Boots scuffle behind you. You don't need to turn to know Ghost and Price have detected your presence, making their way over. Kyle's gaze flicks to them and you feel like a child who's been caught by her parents—embarrassment laced over your irritation. You wouldn't have been eavesdropping if they weren't so secretive.

"Everything alright?" Price's timbre is calm. Your neck prickles where you feel Ghost's stare.

You find yourself nodding. "Yes. Just fine. Sorry."

It gets cooler by nightfall. Your knee bounces slightly under the table during dinner. You listen to Blue explain the rules of battleship to Ari. You don't eat much more of the meat you caught with Kyle. With a mostly empty stomach, you enter Ghost's room after everyone else has gone to bed. His broad form hovers over his dresser. For a moment, you fear he's somehow noticed that you looked at his things earlier. But then you realize his eyes are glued to the map, and he's penciling some things on the margins.

He looks up when you close the door behind you. His brows are deeply knotted. 

"Figured you would be sleeping out there for tonight."

"What?"

"Seems like you feel just fine around them now." 

He looks away from you as if you're not even there. He places the map down and opens the top drawer. Without warning, he pulls out a clean shirt and changes, revealing his bare chest. His shoulders flex as he slips it over his head by the collar. Then, he moves toward you, eyes dully expectant.

"Being asleep near them is different than hanging out during the day," you finally respond. Mouth feeling dry, you swallow. "What's going on? I can tell that you... you've been thinking about something."

"You mean you've been listening." His brow lifts. He shakes his head before you can defend yourself. "I am always thinking about something."

"Would it kill you to not be cryptic for once? I thought that we were..."

"That we were what?"

"Being honest with each other now."

A dark, slightly amused breath leaves his nose. He contemplates your words for a moment. "It is my plan to go there," he then says. "I'm not stupid. I know she needs more than what I can offer her here. It has always been my plan. Just not now."

"Because she's not ready," you breathe.

"Because she's not ready," he repeats, chin tilting. His eyes darken, veering to the left. "Price seems to disagree."

Your nails curl in your palms. "And?"

He looks back at you. "And I am thinking of your camp. What happened to you. I can't grow complacent."

The mention unsettles your stomach. Of course, he needn't elaborate, not when the memory is more fresh than you'd like. "But going to Switzerland would take days, weeks. And they have no idea what they might run into out there. It's not like we have inside info on the state of France and—and wherever the hell else we'd have to cross through to get there. They could be worse than London."

"I'm aware."

"So what, then? You're considering it now? I thought you told them no," your hushed voice edges a bit harsher, and the pulse in your neck quickens.

You hate what you think he's saying, even if you understand it. He has his daughter's future to think of. Even if he were to try finding some safe community when she's older, the opportunity of traveling with two other military-experienced men would be gone, along with whatever weapons and supplies they bring to the table.

The contemplation is vivid in his eyes as you study them. Ghost's head lowers, dipping down at the same time that he emits a harsh breath, and you realize how close the two of you have become in this quiet exchange, keeping your voices safe from any awakened ears. So close, in fact, that his exhalation hits the space between your neck and collarbones, where a small patch of skin tingles with alertness. 

His voice emerges low and thoughtful after a drawn moment. "I haven't fully decided."

You nod with deep breath to steady yourself, taking in his answer. "Will you tell me when you do?" 

"I can do that."

And that's all he offers—four words that give a minuscule amount of comfort, because now bitter uncertainty has snuck upon you once again. Your fate lays in his decision. You can't survive on your own, not even here, so if he leaves you have to go with him. The impending doom fogs your brain. You fail to notice his hand has moved, pinching the hem of your shirt between thumb and forefinger, and beginning to carefully lift it up. A breath hitches at the top of your throat and your eyes unfurl, only to find that he is pensively looking down at your exposed stomach.

"What the fuck are you—"

You're cut off when his bent knuckles gently brush over your mottled abdomen, sweeping down the sore midline, leaving you frozen. It's a thoughtful, slow touch—calloused skin against smooth softness. His thumb traces a particularly bad one by your hip, causing your muscles to flutter as a pleasant heat blossoms. For the second time today, your bruises are under scrutiny, and you curse yourself for not applying more of that paste on them.

"They're healing well," he murmurs, more to himself than to you, and lowers the shirt back down. He steps back. Eyes find yours. "Don't get too comfortable."

You blink dazedly, then stiffen. "Um, what?"

"Sleeping in my bed. My room isn't a hotel."

The change of topic gives you whiplash. "You're the one who made me sleep here," you remind him pointedly. "I'll just take the floor tonight, and you have the bed."

"You're a woman. Take it."

"As if you give a fuck about being a gentleman."

"You're right, I don't." A dismissive shoulder shrugs, then his back turns to you. He lays in the bed before you have the chance to even move, which leaves the blanket on the floor for you.

You should've just accepted the bed.

Once the room is shrouded in darkness, you bury your head in the pillow. 

"Comfortable?" he says sarcastically above you.

"Fuck off."

Then it's silent. You don't sleep nearly as well.

[rainy-day-gracie]

- wedding night (2) -

A Venus & Mars mini series

pairing: General Acacius x virgin!wife!Reader

content warning(s): reader insert, no use of y/n, arranged marriage, implied age gap but nothing specific, oral (f recieving), fingering, loss of virginity, piv sex, innocence kink, self indulgent praise kink, Acacius definitely talks you through it, discussions of consent because consent is sexy mandatory, discussion of future sexual acts, AFTERCARE because aftercare is hot, general acacius is in loooooove but doesn't know it yet haha, romantic and intimate as hell, grievous historical inaccuracy because it's fucking fanfiction, canon divergent because duh

a/n: So guys. I saw Gladiator II and it was awesome and Pedro Pascal is the sexiest man alive (in my heart). However, this character's name is not Marcus. I don't know who lied, but we've all been fooled. So in this sequel, the general's name is just Acacius in order to stay at least a little bit true to the actual canon.

I definitely will be writing for these two again because holy shit I made this romantic and I love them so much.

Read wedding night (1) here!

Read bloodlust here!

---

Acacius saw heaven in your eyes, a piece of salvation he never thought he might be able to grasp with his blood-stained hands.

He glanced down your body, wrapped beautifully in your white wedding gown, gold jewelry shining in warm candlelight. For a moment, he wondered Venus herself were tricking him with her immortal seduction.

But the blush of red in your cheeks, the shine of desire in your eyes, the beat of your heart in your chest....

No immortal possibly could mimic such evidence of true, temporary, and precious life.

Acacius had been with plenty women in his lifetime, had thought he understood what desire was.

I want you, you had said.

Now, he thinks he's only scratched the surface.

---

The general-- Acacius -- peered at you like a starving man at a feast, drinking you in, turning the wheels in his head of what he wanted to do first.

He grasped your hand in both of his, studying the golden band on your ring finger. Evidence of your gods-blessed union.

"I want to see you wearing nothing.... except for this," Acacius breathed, his voice low, and dreamy, like the words were slipping from him with no control.

"I'd like that very much," you said, trying to keep your hand from trembling under his touch.

"May I strip you bare, darling?" He asked, calloused fingertips fiddling with the clasp on your golden bracelet.

"Yes."

Instantly, the bracelet fell, and then the other, and then the other. Acacius' gentle touch drove you wild, methodical and sure. He stopped for a moment, glancing at the purity ring on your pinky, and smirked in a way that nearly made your knees buckle.

Glancing back up to your gaze, he held your stare as he pulled the purity ring off. His lips were a hairsbreadth away from yours, letting you smell the sweet cherry wine on his breath.

"Kiss me," you mumbled.

Acacius' smirk remained. "Patience, darling."

He tucked the purity ring into a pocket of his tunic, and turned you around, so your back pressed against his chest. A sigh caught in your throat, realizing he had turned you both to face the full-length mirror in the corner of the bedroom.

"Answer me honestly," he said, trailing one of his knuckles down the exposed skin of your spine. "Have you ever touched yourself?"

Heat rose to your cheeks, and you shivered at his light touch. "Uh..."

"Don't you lie to me, now. It's a great sin to lie to your husband," he whispered, his teeth nipping lightly at your ear.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I- I've touched myself. I've touched... my..."

"Your cunt?" Acacius mused.

You nodded, your chest rising heavily.

"Did you… like it? When you touched yourself?"

"N-no. I've been told it is not ladylike, to... pleasure yourself in that way."

Acacius kissed the back of your neck, making you arch into his touch. "Oh, my poor darling... there's nothing more ladylike in the world. Don't worry... I will show you how."

A full whimper escaped you at that, and Acacius undid the knots of your dress with a chuckle.

The dress fell, leaving you in only your loincloth, tied at your waist. But Acacius was looking at something else.

His eyes were transfixed on your perked breasts, his mouth slightly open as he wrapped one of his hands around the soft flesh. A high-pitched sigh left your throat, and he reached around with his other hand to take hold of the other breast.

"Do you like it when I hold you like this?" Acacius murmured, his mouth at your temple. He twitched his fingertips to pinch your nipples softly, making you close your eyes in pleasure. "Look at me."

Snapping your eyes open again, he stared you down in the mirror with a small devilish grin. He pinched your breasts again, pulling an answer from you. "Yes, Acacius."

"Good girl," he praised, your cunt throbbing at the words. He let go of your breasts, untying the cloth at your hips until you were utterly bare before him, save for your wedding ring. "Lie down on the bed, darling."

He brushed a palm over your plush backside, guiding you towards the beautiful linen bed. Plenty big for two.

You obey with a shy smile, sinking into the blankets and pillows like you were always meant to fit there. Watching from your comfortable bed, Acacius loomed over the foot, undoing buttons on his tunic, and ties on his robes.

Your lips parted slightly as he exposed the tan, scarred skin of his chest, flickering candlelight bathing him in a warm glow. He studied your expressions like a hawk, watching for any sign of discomfort or displeasure.

As he unlaced the toga and loincloth, leaving him as bare as you were, you had to keep yourself from gasping.

His cock hung heavily between his legs, not even fully aroused but still bigger than anything you had anticipated. He wrapped a hand around his manhood, smirking at your expression, but mercifully saying nothing about it.

“I am curious, my wife,” Acacius began, his voice a rumble. He pulled himself onto the marriage bed, caging you in the sheets with his arms and legs straddling. His eyes never left yours. “What did they say about me? When you learned of our union, what whispers crossed your ears?”

You licked your lips, speaking suddenly a challenge. “Um, that you w-were brave…”

Acacius leaned down, pulling one of your legs over his broad shoulders.

“…and strong…”

He mirrored the motion with your other leg, leaving your weeping cunt exposed.

“…a-and…”

Acacius paused, waiting for your answer. “And?”

“General, I shouldn’t speak ill…” you moaned, wondering if one could combust with desire.

“Tell me the truth, darling. Or you won’t get what you so eagerly want.”

“Th-they said you were cruel,” you stammered, desperately, any wall of self preservation coming down. “They said you took anything you desired, washed your hands with blood, and violence was the only language you spoke. Your rage eclipses that of Achilles, and your eyes blacken every time you raise a banner. You are of Mars himself, shedding blood like you were born to it.”

Acacius’ smirk from between your legs was wicked, and he broke your gaze for the first time since lying on the bed.

He studied your open cunt with a glazed expression, like he was lost in the pleasure of staring at your slick desire.

“If I am of Mars then you are of Venus, my darling.”

His words filled you with affection, the way his knees bent on the bed almost like he was worshiping an altar between your legs.

“So pure…” he murmured, as if the words had slipped from his lips.

Your back arched like a bow as he licked a stripe up your soaking slit, sighs escaping from your throat.

Acacius hummed with delight, fucking you on his tongue lazily, drinking your desire like nectar of the gods.

You buried your hands in his hair hesitantly, unsure of what would be pleasing to him. In all the times you eavesdropped on the married women of the court, never once had they mentioned anything like… this. Never once had they mentioned any of the overwhelming pleasure racking every limb of your body. Never once had they mentioned the lightning erupting over your skin with every brush of his calloused palm.

Acacius trailed his hands down your arched torso, cupping your breasts as his mouth traced patterns over your cunt. Your breathy moans made him chuckle into your flesh, the vibrations making you lift your hips with pleasure.

Throbbing built in your pussy, clenching around his tongue as your desire jumped at every brush of his lips.

“A-Acacius, gods…” you cried out, throwing your head back as a pinnacle raced towards you.

“Relax, my darling,” Acacius breathed, bringing one of his hands down to rest at your soft inner thigh. “I’m going to put my hands on you now.”

“Oh, please,” you begged, unsure of what it was you were begging for.

“Tell me if it becomes too much,” Acacius said, and his hand on your thigh moved.

The gentle brush of his rough fingertips on your slick folds had you gasping anew, pulling lightly on the locks of his hair.

“Such a pretty cunt,” Acacius mumbled to himself. “I have half a mind to just keep you like this.”

You whined in protest, your hips chasing his touch.

“So needy for a virgin.”

You threw your head back as his finger pushed past your slick folds, reaching spots inside of yourself that you hadn’t known existed.

“Oh, so tight, my love. You truly are pure.” Acacius curved his finger, brushing against something spongy, and sensitive. A guttural moan escaped your throat, and he laughed softly. “When the pleasure peaks, do not fight it. Let it take you away, somewhere only you and I exist.”

You nodded at his command, closing your eyes as your head sunk into the linen pillows.

Unrestrained cries erupted from you as he pulled his finger out, and in, and out again, hitting that sweet spot with every push inside of your aching cunt.

When he pressed his tongue to the bud at the top of your core, he pushed a second finger deep into your slick, making you wonder if the gods truly did become man. The stretch of his fingers pricked a pain deep within, making you clench tighter around his calloused fingertips. A slight brush of his rough facial hair against your core was your ultimate undoing.

You called out his name as the pleasure rushed down your spine, into your belly, and built in your desperate cunt. He knew it, too, and continued to thrust his fingers deep inside with renewed enthusiasm. His tongue licked against your clit with hunger, tipping you over the edge.

Cries escaped your lips as the pleasure overwhelmed you, every muscle in your body going taut as the desire took over. Your cunt clenched tightly, chasing his fingers, and your spire curved with tension as the wave of lust claimed you.

Acacius watched with a lazy smile as your core squeezed with your orgasm, evidence of your desire dripping off his lips.

“Acacius… Acacius…” you breathed as the climax subsided, your body relaxing into the bed once more.

“How do you feel, darling?” Acacius asked, crawling back up to press his nose against yours. His brown eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with adoration.

In place of an answer, you buried your hands in his curly, soft hair, pressing his lips to yours. He responded instantly, capturing your mouth with the passion of love and war.

His tongue pushed against yours, pure want seeping from every brush of his lips against yours. You gasped as his hands cupped your hips gently, like he was making sure you were a solid thing he could hold in his hands. Like he was worried you might slip through his fingers.

“I want more,” you whispered against his mouth, and he nodded with his eyes closed, like he was dreaming.

“It will hurt for a moment, but I will be gentle with you,” Acacius breathed, trailing light kisses against your throat. “Tell me when there is pain, or if you wish to stop.”

You nodded against his temple, and he pulled his lips back instantly.

“Say you want me, darling. Say you will tell me to stop if you wish.”

The intensity in those brown eyes, the desperation, had you squirming with desire once again.

You held his face in your hands, tracing your thumb against his rough stubble, studying him.

Acacius' nose was utterly Roman, looking like it had possibly been broken once or twice. Every mark on him was evidence of a man that had seen the Underworld and walked away, but not without a few scars to show for it. Though he had been nothing but gentle with you, there was no doubt he could live up to his reputation of bloodletting.

Still, you held him close.

"I want you, Acacius. I will tell you to stop if I wish to." There was no hesitation, no tremor in your voice.

He sighed in relief, reaching down to his hard cock and bringing it between your legs. You whined at the sensitive touch, and he grunted at the slickness of your folds.

"So wet for me, darling, so perfect," he moaned in your ear, guiding the soft flesh of your thighs to wrap around his hips.

Tentatively, he rubbed his cock up and down your core, getting you accustomed to the blunt feeling. You whined breathlessly, near begging for him to fuck you already.

"Patience, darling. I need to go slow to not hurt you," he mumbled.

The blunt head of his cock pushed past your sensitive folds, and you dug your nails into the strong muscles of his back.

Acacius let out a guttural groan into the heated skin of your neck. "So wet, and tight."

You called his name like a prayer, your head tossed back in pain and pleasure. Over and over again, you called his name.

"A little more, easy, easy..." Acacius moaned, pushing further into your virgin cunt.

You cried out in pinching desire. "S-so much, Acacius..."

"I know, darling. We're halfway there."

You held tight to him, his rough hands on your soft skin distracting you from the stretch of your cunt around his cock. "H-halfway?"

Acacius chuckled, holding still inside of you to let you adjust. "You feel... divine. So, so perfect, my sweet wife."

A high pitched moan escaped you as he pulled back slightly, kissing your neck as he pushed farther in. You clenched around him, and his lips on your clammy skin sent a fresh wave of lust panging though you.

But Acacius stopped, and you gasped in pain again, as if he had hit a barrier in your core he couldn't push past. You knew he could bottom out if he so wanted, but not without tearing you deeply.

Instead of pushing forward, he stayed where he was inside of you, tracing his nose along the curve of your jaw.

When he spoke again, his voice was low, almost like he didn't mean for you to hear his words.

"Do you want to know what I want, darling?"

You were too breathless to answer.

Acacius continued. "I want to fuck you so well that all of Rome hears you calling my name. I want to mark you with my mouth so you may look in the mirror and think only of me. I want fall to my knees and thank the gods that gave you to me. But for now, my darling... I want you to come on my cock with your most divine cunt."

Your cunt, as if on command, fluttered, and you moaned as he was able to fill you to the hilt without a pinch of discomfort.

"Oh, yes," Acacius whispered, his tongue darting out along your pulse point. You cried out in pleasure as he shifted inside of you, holding tight to his strong back.

"You... are... perfect, darling," he panted, thrusting slowly, in and out, in and out. "So warm, and tight..."

"Acacius, please..."

"Please... what?" Acacius teased, biting your bottom lip slightly as he pushed back into you.

"More... more," you said, digging your nails into the muscles of his shoulders.

Acacius responded in kind, chuckling at your desperation. "As my lady commands."

His thrusts into your aching cunt deepened, becoming harder as you grew needy for his strength. You tossed your head back with a high-pitched cry when he was able to hit that perfectly sensitive spot inside of you, and the reaction made him even more ravenous for you.

"Oh, you take my cock so well," Acacius praised, the words making your cunt clench around him. "So, so good, my darling."

As if he knew what you needed before you did, he pulled his chest away from yours, sitting up on his knees while thrusting into you. He looped his wide arms underneath your spread legs, angling you upwards on his thighs and pulling your hips up off of the bed. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you arched your back off the sheets with a shriek of delight.

"Acacius, Acacius," you cried out, the new angle sending him deep into your core, hitting spots you hadn't even known existed.

"That's it, say my name," Acacius said with a smirk. "Say my name when I fuck you, tell all of Rome who is making you feel this good."

You couldn't stop, the falling of his name from your lips dripping like sweet honey. All you could feel was the sweat of his skin against yours, the calloused of his hands as they gripped your soft thighs closely, and the depths of your core his cock was able to reach.

"You're going to cum for me," Acacius ordered, his words coming out in pants of breath. "You're going to cum for me, because you're a good girl. You're a good girl, aren't you? Letting me fuck her virgin cunt so nicely, such a good girl..."

At his praise, your cunt tightened around his cock, back arching like a bow. As you came, he pressed a calloused hand into the flesh above your pelvis, the pressure making your high all the more intense. You cried out his name, over and over again, the two of you becoming the only people in the world as the tidal wave of pleasure overwhelmed you.

Acacius' thrusts into your aching core sped, became less focused, and you knew he was losing control himself as you came apart underneath him. Your name fell from his lips as he pressed his hand further into the spot below your belly, where his cock seemed to bulge into his palm as your cunt pulsed around him.

"Such a good girl, such a good wife," he moaned. Only when your core could only twitch in response to his strong thrusts did he slow, leaning back over you and capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

A warmth pooled within you, evidence of his pleasure. You didn't know if you'd ever felt such an intimate connection with anyone as you did with him, his kiss burning a brand into your heart as the heat of passion faded.

Acacius pulled away after a moment, breathing heavily against your throat. "Hold still a moment," he warned. His palms pressed against your hips, his cock sliding from you with a slight sting. You followed his advice, your legs feeling weak and shaky.

You studied him as he crossed the bedchamber to the washroom, his broad back dimpling with the movement. Returning with a clean cloth and a faint smile on his lips, the dimple in his cheek made your heart swell as he saw your sprawled body on his massive bed.

"Feeling comfortable?" Acacius asked, eyebrows raised with amusement.

You nod, watching him as he crossed over to you, pressing a chaste kiss against your lips as he carefully wiped your messy core.

Breaking from your lips for a moment, he pressed his nose against yours, and you cherished the gentle, intimate gesture.

"Shall I call the servants for a hot bath?" Acacius mumbled, tossing the cloth aside.

"A hot bath sounds divine, but only if we may take one together," you reply, slightly giddy.

Acacius furrowed his brows in confusion. "What is making you laugh, my darling?"

You kissed him again, long and slow. Time stood still, and it was as if you could physically feel the bond forging between the two of you, forging in a slow burn of a crackling fire. It was warm, and easy, and comforting.

You broke away, studying him in his eyes. "You are simply... not what I expected."

Acacius smiled, that damn dimple curving in his cheek.

The most feared general on the continent.

Your husband.

Acacius kissed your forehead. "You, my darling, are everything I've been dreaming of."

---

taglist (people that asked to be tagged in part 2): @marianastudiesart @joeldjarin @fallout-girl219 @shantellorraine @lanadelslay69-420 @pedrofan

my request box is open! would love to hear y'all ideas for Joel, Acacius, Javier, or Oberyn :)

[reidgenius]

Low Pain Tolerance | S.R. x Reader

image by reidgif <3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader Word Count: 1.4k Category: angst, hurt/comfort? Warnings: commitment issues, wildly insecure!reader (it's really just me) A/N: I haven't written for Spencer before, so please excuse any OOC inaccuracies and be nice okay! I am a long-time lurker/admirer of the lovely @pathologicalreid and am writing this for her cutesy margovember event :) Song Inspo: Low Pain Tolerance by Abby Holliday

You never enjoyed running.

Still, that didn't stop you from doing it often. Whether it be on the job or in a relationship, you ran.

To catch a bad guy. To catch yourself before you fall. To stop something terrible before it happens... You ran.

In this instance, you found yourself running from Spencer Reid.

"Would you look at me? Please?" he pleaded.

You knew if you were to turn around that you'd see his glassy doe eyes and be drawn right back in. You knew your weaknesses, and he was certainly one of them. The biggest one. That's why you stayed put, staring at his bedroom wall.

"I can't, Spence." You meant to say it with finality, but it came out more as a whimper.

"You can't look at me, or you can't-"

"Neither. Both."

As the holidays approached, Spencer had mentioned the idea of the two of you making a trip out to Vegas. "Just for a day or two," he'd promised. Though there wasn't much he treasured about home, you knew that his mother was there, and that was more than reason enough.

This evening, he'd brought it up again after letting you avoid the topic for weeks.

"It's only a matter of time before you figure it out," you admit.

"Figure what out?"

"God, Spence, that I'm only bringing you down!" you nearly shouted, though you hadn't meant to. The anxiety took over. "I'm like... gahhh! I don't know how to do any of this, I-"

To your dismay, he let out a laugh as you finally turned to face him. A real, genuine laugh.

"Bringing me down?" He looked at you with an earnest amusement. "Honey, I don't think you realize what you-"

"I'm scared. Okay? Is that what you wanted me to admit? That I'm scared of meeting her?" A single tear gushed down your cheek.

His brows knit in concern as he quickly thought of ways to disprove the common fears surrounding schizophrenia and it's manifestations.

"Baby, schizophrenia doesn't ma-"

"Dammit Spencer, it's not about that! It's- I..."

You found yourself stumbling over your words.

"I don't care about her diagnoses!" you laughed. (Of course, you did care, but that wasn't what was scaring you.) "I'm scared of this!" you said, waving your hands between the two of you. "I don't want to rush it. I don't want to get her hopes up..."

You let your legs give way to sit on the floor against the wall, your head in your hands, mumbling to the cold hardwood.

"I don't want to get my hopes up."

There was it. That was the truth.

You weren't used to it. You weren't used to someone asking you how your day was and really caring. You weren't used to the notion that a man would want to wrap himself around you at night and keep you close. You'd never been one to draw much attention from men. Or women. Or anyone, really.

Naturally, you figured that there must be something deeply and inherently flawed in you. Something Spencer had yet to discover.

So, being with him was... terrifying. You were constantly waiting and wondering when he'd conclude that you weren't as pretty as he initially thought, or as witty, or as intelligent, or kind, or...

And it would only be cruel to drag Diana into this. To have her think that perhaps her son had found his person. To have her thinking that she might be meeting her future daughter-in-law. It felt cruel to yourself, in some twisted way, to pretend that this was all going to last.

Spencer was typically a fast thinker, but your admission had the cogs in his brain working overtime. You were afraid of him? Of your relationship?

He padded over to join you on the floor, keeping a little distance so as not to scare you.

"Get your hopes up? You don't-" he gulped, "I mean... you don't think we're gonna- that this is gonna work out?"

Still speaking to the floor, you sigh, "I don't know, Spence."

You were exhausted. Incessantly feeling like you're on the brink of being "found out" can do that to a person. It's not that Spencer hadn't done all the right things. No, he was the perfect partner. But therein lied the issue. He was perfect. And, in your opinion, you were far, far from it.

You took a deep breath through your tears.

"I don't think I can keep doing this."

Confusion. Utter shock. Things had been going so well with you the past 8 months. Spencer immediately began to wrack his brain combing through all the possible mistakes he could've made. Did he raise his voice with you? Had he forgotten some big milestone? Was he not giving you enough?

"Honey I-" he gathered himself, placing a hand on your thigh, "I'm so sorry. Can I ask... what makes you say all this?"

Though you were reluctant, you figured that now was as good a time as any.

"Spencer. I am not good for you! Good enough for you!" With each point, you illustrated by raising a finger, "I am impulsive and I complain and I get weird sometimes when you touch me and I can be a massive bitch and I never know how to-"

"Woah, woah, woah-" He snuck up closer to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and placing his head atop yours, all while you kept rambling. "Why in the world do you say that? Not good enough for me? If anything it's me who isn't deserving of you..."

"No, you-"

He stopped you in your tracks just by saying your name in that beautiful way he does. Like its covered in honey and dripping with admiration.

"You are everything. You may think those things about yourself but I certainly don't." His thumb caressed your bare skin so carefully as he continued, speaking slowly so as to allow the words to really sink in. "You are the most generous person I've ever encountered. You care so deeply about people you love. You are courageous and willing to try all the weird foods I suggest even though you really don't want to." He smirked a bit at that one. "You have taken everything that life has thrown at you and navigated it with grace. You really are just... you're it. You're her. You're the girl - the woman - I've always hoped would come my way but never dreamed actually would. Honey, I've figured out everything I need to know when it comes to how I feel about you."

You sat there, warm under his embrace, pondering his words as he spoke. It's nothing he hasn't said before, granted, in much less grand and emotionally charged ways. But it was like you were really hearing it for the first time. You wanted so badly to believe him.

"I love you," he continued. "I love you so much that sometimes I am afraid of myself. Of what I'd do for you. You, god, you make me so much better."

"I love you, too. Too much," you squeaked out.

"No. Not too much." He leaned back to encourage you to look up at him. "You know I really mean all that right? Just the way you are. Quirks included?"

"I guess. And now I'm just self-conscious that I am so self-conscious..."

"You say that as if I'm not the exact same way!" he chuckles, trying to make light of what is clearly a shared wound. You'll deal with that later. Together, preferably. "Please, trust me. Do you trust me?"

And you did. You trusted Spencer with every cell in your body and hair on your head. There was nobody else you'd ever been so confident in. So, you nod against his chest as your tears begin to subside.

"Good. Now why don't we move this party up into the bed?"

"No offense, Spencer, but the last thing I want right now is to f-"

"No no no nooope! Not that, babe," he laughed. "Just wanna lay with you 'til this feeling passes. Is that okay?"

"Please."

And so, the rest of the evening consisted of cuddles under your massive comforter. Sweet admissions whispered in your ear. The tiniest kisses to your hairline and your shoulder and your nose and your wrists.

By the time you dozed into a worry-free slumber, you believed him a little more.

Perhaps you could let Spencer love you, forever.

[pomefioredove]

Hiya! I'm the one who requested the Siren thingy from some time back! LOVED IT BTW!

But anyways, since oneshots are opened, I was wondering if It's possible to do a one shot with Leona and a Reader who has a very intimidating appearance but is actually a sweetheart. They even own a motorcycle that they drive around on and often wear skates on campus!

leona fic... I've been itching to write him lately idk why... thank you anon!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ "dangerous"

type of post: fic characters: leona additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, CUDDLES!!!

So, you're "intimidating".

He supposes you're in the right place for that.

After "meeting" you (you accidentally skated over Ruggie's foot, which was very funny, but still annoying), Leona had dismissed you as yet another NRC showoff with something to prove.

He'd been at Night Raven College for a decent time, now, and he'd seen your type before. Intimidating, fast, dangerous.

Leona had heard the way the other students talked about you. The whispers, the gossip, even the quiet looks of awe/fear were worth a thousand words.

His thoughts? Whatever.

To him, you were another herbivore in need of a serious ego check. And, more importantly: not his problem.

Until today.

"And beat it," he says, shoving the two Savanaclaw first years he'd caught cornering some poor piece of meat in the hall.

"You're gonna give me a damn headache."

The two scamper off, tails between their legs. Leona sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Damn froshes..."

Can't anyone at this school behave? Showoffs.

If he so much as gets a sticky note from staff about his freshmen causing trouble... again... Sigh. Nothing a good nap can't fix.

He's about to find a warm place to sleep when he feels something in his hand. Leona would jump if he were anyone else.

But he's not. So, he looks down to see... you. The poor piece of meat in question.

Holding his hand.

"Thank you," you chirp.

He raises an eyebrow. It's not every day some herbivore has the guts to touch him like that.

So damn sweet he can feel his teeth rotting from that look alone.

"I wasn't 'doin it for you," he takes his hand back and begins walking.

He makes it halfway down the hall before his ears flick towards the sound of footsteps behind him. He turns, and you're there.

Leona gives you a warning glare, and he keeps walking.

Again, footsteps. He looks over his shoulder. "Beat it,"

He keeps walking. If you weren't giving him that damn look, so innocent and sweet at witless, he might've assumed you were trying to pick a fight.

You're either stupid or brave, following him into the lion's den.

But you do, from the hall to the botanical gardens, from the door to his favorite spot.

For whatever reason, he lets you. Something about that look on your face...

"Y'know, if you're trying to hunt, you're not doing a good job," Leona yawns, stretching out in a patch of sunlight.

"Oh," you say. "I'm not."

"Obviously,"

He closes his eyes. You just stand there. He clears his throat. You still don't move.

Finally, he sits up. "What're you, looking for handouts? Go bother someone else, I've already got a moocher,"

"I'm not, I just..."

He raises an eyebrow. "You what?"

You seem hesitant, your hands folded oh-so-politely. For all the talk he'd heard about you, you're really... rather...

"You're nice to me,"

Sweet.

Leona scoffs. "That's it? I'm nice to you?"

You say nothing. That question answers itself, anyway- and, yet, doesn't annoy him, either. You must have a piss-poor life if you think he's nice.

It makes Leona's chest feel warm. Damn it.

"Fine," he sighs. Damn it. And he scoots over to make room for you in the patch of sunlight. Damn it.

You sit beside him, and he wraps an arm around your waist, and pulls you into his side. He watches you get comfortable.

"You're a real sweetheart, y'know that? You're not gonna survive long at this school," he mumbles. "But I guess you know that, huh? That's why you're here."

You nod. Damn it. When'd he get so weak?

"Just... don't get too used to it," he says. "This is a one-time thing."

(Spoiler: it was not).

[jarl-deathwolf]

EXCELLENT!

Ooo that is a lot of FANTASTIC information, I pulled up a document and got to work taking notes. I'll have to spend some time sorting it out into a handy reference sheet but even as-is this will help a lot.

I'm really glad I asked because this includes a lot of details that I wouldn't even know to ask, like the acidic/neutral/alkaline distinctions between forests. Between that and the wet/dry divide, now I can look at a map of around where the characters are and sus out roughly what they're looking at. It really does take away a lot of the stress when

Better yet, it gives me options so I can pick some possible environments to suit what I need in the story. Like choosing a wet forest if I need treacherous terrain, or a Celtic Rainforest to enhance the splendor of a moment.

Best of all, this gives me a vocabulary of things that I can then look up references for, and a bank of plants and animals I can pull up to add life to a scene.

One thing I've really struggled with in this story has been giving the region its own distinct feel compared to other woodlands. Which is doubly important since the entire story revolves around people desperately trying to save it (and their culture) from being destroyed by colonization and conquest.

That section was pretty thorough, so I'll have to digest it for a while before I've got more questions there.

Anyway, getting into more specific comments, as well as the map, below:

(map by @noanieactuallydrawingalot) So this is the continent where the stories take place as a whole. I may or may not have made the Fells (Fantasy Wales) something like five times as large as its real counterpart. Here is more specifically the Fells, with the three big rivers named (I assume there are many more rivers and small lakes, these are just major ones) and the historic realms of the Fells marked out

I've tentatively named some broader regions, but I'm not confident about those just yet. Red dots denote major cities. The yellow line is where the old empire's borders were - those five Fellish realms are still fully under foreign rule, with four more ruled by Marcher Lords, which is just more tenuous foreign rule.

Let me know how I did with the geography and such! I've done a lot of free time studying and took a college course about it, but things like the effects of ocean currents and wind patterns always tripped me up. Anyway, I'm glad I ended up pretty close with Old Man Ash. I think he would be fine with the informal version - the other name he gets called in the story is Grandad, so I get the sense he cares more about people being comfortable in his presence than formality. Although keep me updated on if your inlaws have a different opinion - I'll need to contact my editor to update the PDF, so I'd rather do that just once. With what you said about broadleaves being exclusively what makes up the old growth forests, I wonder if that would mean that all Dagfolk would be based on broadleaves? 🧐 Since I'm sending pictures, here is the (now properly named) Hynafwr Onn:

(art by dinwardo over on twitter)

Before I move onto the next thing, just a quick question: I have another Dagfolk (like Grandad up there). His current placeholder name is the Great Oak, and he's considered the wisest and most powerful of the Dagfolk. A personal friend of King Arthur.

I don't suppose you'd have a suggestion for a name?

I am delighted that you bring up bards because I made the main character a Fellish bard by the name of Llywela ferch Marared. She plays a crwth and I like to have her make subtle references to Welsh songs like Sebona Fi and Yma O Hyd. I gave her uncommonly red hair to imply a connection with Annwyn.

(I realize that's not the usual spelling of Annwn, but I chose it so I wasn't directly cribbing mythology and making it harder for people to learn about those myths) I also have some commissioned art of Llywela, plus the Lady of the Lake and the Merlin analogue, for what it is worth. You mentioned faeries with the peat bogs. I don't think faeries will be making a huge appearance in this story (mostly just one knight), but I'd be glad to hear about Welsh-specific faerie lore if you've got it on hand.

You also said that cheeses were a big Welsh cultural touchstone. Are there Welsh specific varieties that you can tell me about? And what sort of dishes are they made into?

Also on that train of thought, you mentioned a plant that flavors mead - would that be the go-to alcohol of choice, or are there others floating around? Both for a lord's table and what you might find in an inn.

And thanks again for the response, this really has been a treasure trove of great information for me!

Hi hello! I'm writing a story in my original world, set in a Fantasy Wales. A King Arthur Returns type story, if that matters.

I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about Welsh ecology? And possibly also some cultural details?

Thanks ahead of time! And I understand if you decline or don't respond!

YES OH MY GOD YES HELLO

[betweenstorms]

Hi hello, hope you're having a good day Stormy! Your writing is always so good sjdjsjd always makes my day when I have the chance to read em! Not sure if you take requests, so if you don't, you can always ignore this! But I have a pretty interesting prompt that might pique your interest 👀

We all know Simon doesn't show emotions easily, usually the people very close to him will spot out the minute details that give away how he's feeling. Small twitch of the lips, tense of shoulders, that kind of thing. But how about reader who is slightly different, in that they also don't show emotion that well, but it's because they forget to? Sounds confusing I know, but for me I forget my mouth exists and constantly forget to smile at people when greeting them. So for reader, the only way others know how they're feeling is with the tone of their voice.

Hope that isn't too confusing to understand! It's a very weird thing I have, and have not encountered anyone else who share this lmao

Anywayyy have a great rest of your day, and remember to hydrate and eat something! 🖤

- Biscuits 🌺

Hi Biscuits! 🌺 First of all, thank you so much for your kind words! I’m so sorry it took me this long to reply, but I’m excited to let you know that my interpretation of your idea is finally here! I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as I enjoyed exploring such a unique and fascinating prompt. I hope you’re having a wonderful day, and don’t forget to hydrate and eat something too! Thank you again for trusting me with your idea. 🖤

You didn’t need to look up to know the weather outside was a dreary shade of grey.

Strangely, it was always just grey here. Overcast skies that seemed to stretch endlessly over the joint military base somewhere in Germany, as though nature itself had resigned to a dull monotony. Not that it bothered you. Weather, much like people, had a way of projecting its moods that you’d long stopped trying to interpret. Clouds could loom ominously, sunlight could break free in radiant streaks, but it all felt the same to you.

Emotions were like that too.

Amorphous, indistinct, slipping through your grasp when you tried to name them. For as long as you could remember, you’d lacked the innate ability most people seemed to have, the quick flick of recognition when faced with a scowl, a smile, or a furrowed brow. You saw the movements of mouths and brows but couldn’t place what they were supposed to mean.

To you, the dance of expressions was no more than a series of movements, the subtle lift of lips or tilt of a head stripped of the weight they were meant to carry. And so, your own face reflected the only truth you understood. Your own face usually mirrored the neutrality of the weather, a blank slate that rarely shifted unless you consciously willed it to.

Price and Gaz were out on a recon mission, leaving Soap, Ghost and you on the foreign base. With no immediate orders other than to wait for their return, the three of you had the rare luxury of downtime. However, despite this, none of you strayed from your usual discipline. The day began at dawn, as always, with the shooting range, gym sessions, or reviewing intel as needed. The quiet efficiency of your routines spoke volumes about the kind of people you all were, professionals through and through. There were no shortcuts at this level, no slacking off. You were the best of the best after all.

Each of you carried that mantle in your own way.

Soap’s energy crackled like a live wire, his easy laughter and constant chatter an antidote to the grim seriousness of your world. Ghost, by contrast, was the anchor—silent, steadfast, a figure carved from stone. And you? You found yourself somewhere between them, detached yet watchful, a quiet observer tethered by a relentless need to prove yourself.

You liked working with Ghost in a way that was difficult to articulate, even to yourself. There was no camaraderie in the traditional sense, no banter or easy companionship, but strangely, there was something deeper, something unspoken.

Your lieutenant moved through the world with the same deliberate calm that you valued in yourself, his every action sharpened by precision and purpose. You respected him for that, his unrelenting dedication, the quiet strength he carried like a shield, and the way his presence seemed to command gravity itself, pulling the air taut whenever he entered a room. And somehow, Ghost felt like a reflection, as though the world had cut both of you from the same cloth. He, too, was a figure cloaked in neutrality, his mask hiding not just his face but the emotions that might lie beneath.

Even with the lull in operations, you didn’t take the task force’s trust for granted. You had fought hard to earn your place here, shedding blood and sweat to prove yourself to Price and the rest of the team. The task force was a strange paradox—these were people you trusted implicitly with your life, but you knew almost nothing about them on a personal level. That was just how things worked. Bonds forged in war zones didn’t require knowledge of favorite foods or childhood dreams. Still, you couldn’t deny a small, nagging curiosity about the men you worked with—especially Soap and Ghost.

Both were enigmas in their own ways.

Soap, all charm and humor, seemed to wear his heart on his sleeve, yet you suspected there was more to him beneath the surface. Ghost, on the other hand, was a locked vault, his emotions buried under layers of stoicism and a mask that seemed to shield more than his face. 

You had been with the task force for four months now.

It had been an honor to receive Price’s invitation, and though you felt pride in your accomplishments, showing it outwardly had always been a challenge. Ever since childhood, you’d struggled with recognizing and expressing emotions.

Your family had always been understanding, brushing it off as an eccentric quirk, and you’d never sought a formal diagnosis. It wasn’t that you didn’t feel, far from it. You just didn’t show it in the usual ways. Smiling, frowning, or even appearing annoyed often felt like trying to mimic a foreign language without understanding the grammar.

As a child, you were always the odd one, the kid who stared too long, too intently, when other children laughed and cried. Your parents, to their credit, were patient. Your mother, warm and pragmatic, would gently remind you to smile when greeting your grandmother or reassure you when a relative’s frown went unnoticed. “They’re not cross, love,” she’d say, her hands light on your shoulders. “Just thinking. You’re fine.”

But the world wasn’t as kind as your family.

As you grew, the peculiarities of your face invited suspicion, sometimes ridicule. “Why don’t you ever smile?” teachers would ask, their tone suggesting you were withholding something from them, as though joy was a currency you refused to spend. Friends, when you had them, would mistake your silence for coldness, your neutrality for indifference. By the time you reached your teens, you’d grown used to the questions and assumptions, building an armor of pragmatism around yourself. What was the point in trying to explain something you didn’t fully understand?

Somehow, your body simply forgot the script.

You forgot to move your lips when greeting a loved one, forgot to furrow your brows when confusion took hold, forgot to cry when sadness settled heavy in your chest. It wasn’t that you didn’t feel. Feelings bloomed and churned within you like storms on a distant horizon, but they never found their way to the surface. You were a house with locked shutters, and though the light was on inside, it rarely spilled out to illuminate the exterior.

Oddly enough, this trait had become an asset in your line of work.

Pragmatic, objective, and unshaken by emotion, you excelled in high-pressure environments. It was this armor that had served you so well in the military and later in the SAS. Neutrality was an asset here—a foundation upon which precision, discipline, and logic could thrive. Emotions muddied decisions, and in your line of work, clarity was king. When the invitation to join Task Force 141 had come, you’d accepted with quiet pride, though you’d made no effort to show it. Your calm, measured responses made you reliable and efficient, qualities that had undoubtedly caught Price’s attention.

But outside of missions, it created a distance between you and the rest of the team. Building camaraderie required a kind of emotional fluency you didn’t naturally possess, and though you didn’t dwell on it much, it sometimes left you feeling a little isolated.

Four months in, you’d cemented your place among the team.

They trusted you on the battlefield, and that was enough. Personal bonds were optional here, weren’t they? You’d told yourself that many times, but the truth was harder to swallow, trust in war didn’t translate to understanding in peace. Soap’s boisterous banter, Gaz’s easy charm, and Ghost’s impassive stares all existed in a language you couldn’t quite speak.

This morning, however, was different.

Breakfast was normally a solitary affair, a brief respite from the day’s structured chaos. But today, Soap and Ghost had joined you in the mess hall, their presence sat heavy at your periphery. You sat across from them, meticulously working through your meal while Soap tapped his fingers on the table in a rhythm that suggested trouble. Neither of them was eating, and their idle presence felt vaguely unsettling.

It didn’t take long for your suspicion to be confirmed.

“Y’know,” Soap began, his voice lilting with mischief. “Been meanin’ to ask you somethin’, lass. How’s it possible to sit there, day in, day out, with a face that doesn't move? Like a bloody mannequin, you are.”

You raised a brow, a slight, subtle motion that could have meant anything, but didn’t stop eating. Soap took this as an invitation to continue.

“You don’t smile,” he declared, as though it were a groundbreaking revelation. “Or frown. Or even twitch your face half the time. How d’you do that, eh? Are you secretly a robot?”

“I’m not a robot,” you replied, your tone flat but perfectly even.

He leaned back, shaking his head with mock disbelief. “Could’ve fooled me. You’re like a statue, don’t even look annoyed when I’m talkin’ shite at you. Bet you couldn’t make a face to save your life.”

You paused, setting down your fork with deliberate precision.

“I can make faces,” you said coolly.

“Aye, then let’s have a wee go at it. Give us a smile, eh?” Soap’s lopsided grin widened, and he glanced at Ghost, who remained silent but was now clearly paying attention, his hazel eyes flicking toward you. You blinked at them, debating whether it was worth the effort to argue.

Instead, you attempted to comply.

The corners of your mouth lifted in what might have passed for a smile if not for the stiffness in the gesture. It felt awkward, like wearing someone else’s skin.

Soap slapped the table, his laugh booming across the hall. “Creepin’ Jesus, that’s tragic! Like watchin’ a bairn try to wink for the first time.”

“Better than watchin’ you try to think,” Ghost deadpanned, not missing a beat.

Undeterred, Soap straightened up. “All right, fine. Forget smilin’. Show us angry.”

You weren’t bothered by Soap’s teasing, not at all.

Sarcasm and banter weren’t your battlefield, and you didn’t need to win these small wars of wit. If anything, you found his energy oddly endearing, a welcome distraction in the quiet monotony of downtime. So you furrowed your brow and narrowed your eyes slightly, aiming for something approximating irritation. Soap burst into another peal of laughter, throwing his head back and letting it roll out uninhibited.

“Honestly, you’re hopeless,” he howled, tears of laughter glistening in his eyes.

Ghost sighed, setting his tablet down with deliberate care.

“Enough, Johnny.”

Soap held up his hands in mock surrender, his grin lingering like a spark refusing to fade, but your attention had already wandered, your gaze tracing their movements like studying a map of familiar terrain. Soap’s restless energy hummed, his gestures loose and unrestrained, a stark contrast to Ghost’s deliberate stillness, every shift of his body a calculation.

And then his hazel eyes met yours—sharp, unflinching, and so steady it rooted you in place. There was no hostility, no question, only a quiet intensity that made your pulse stutter, a strange, warm stirring low in your stomach that you didn’t dare acknowledge. His gaze held you captive for a beat too long, the air around you heavy, before he turned away, leaving behind a weight you didn’t fully understand but couldn’t quite shake.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice lower now, more measured. “Faces lie. It’s your voice that tells the truth.”

You blinked. “My voice?”

Ghost nodded, leaning back slightly. “You can hear it. If you listen proper. More honest than any forced smile could ever be.”

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say.

Compliments, if that’s what this was, were scarce in your world, as rare as sunlight piercing through storm clouds. From Ghost, they were practically unheard of. Yet his words lingered, carrying a weight that pressed gently against the walls of your chest. A quiet warmth began to unfurl there, blooming softly like a flame coaxed from dying embers, a mixture of gratitude and something unnamed, something that settled in the hollow spaces you hadn’t realized were waiting to be filled.

Soap, visibly startled by the uncharacteristic remark, stared at Ghost as though he’d grown a second head. “Bloody hell, Lt.,” he muttered. “Didn’t know ye had a poetic streak.”

Your lieutenant paid him no mind, his focus already returning to the tablet in his hands, as if the moment had never existed. But you remained still, the weight of his words draping over you like a thick, unshakable cloak. Honest. The word lingered, unfamiliar yet strangely resonant, threading itself into the quiet spaces of your thoughts, where it settled with unexpected ease. Soap broke the moment with a playful nudge to your shoulder.

“Still, you could do with learnin’ a proper smile, eh? Just in case.”

Your eyes rolled, an instinctive motion this time, unbidden but oddly fitting. Soap’s laughter rippled through the room, bright and careless, but it barely registered, a distant echo against the steady hum of your thoughts. Ghost’s words lingered, heavy with meaning, a rare compliment that pressed itself into the quiet corners of your mind with a significance that eclipsed anything you’d ever known. Perhaps, you mused, letting the warmth of the moment settle over you, it wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Maybe that was something you could finally understand.

[famouscyclenerd]

Mor's reactions to Az and Elain is explained in his BC

this is my opinion btw, nothing's been confirmed.

I've seen both sides use her reactions to "prove" that their ship is endgame in whatever way. We don't have her pov in any of the scenes however.

So as of right now, we don't know why Sarah chooses to highlight Mor's reactions whenever there is an interaction between Elain and Az in her presence, but I have my theories, and ya'll already know it's not going in e/riels favor, SO BUCKLE UP MY DUDES WE'RE GOING FOR A RIDE!👹

I think it's important to note that Azriel and Mor's relationship has been slightly... turbulent throughout all of the decades they've known each other. Don't get me wrong, it hasn't been absolutely unstable, but there is a huge lack of communication on both sides that's been in dire need of resolvement in order for them to have a good and healthy friendship.

Although Sarah hasn't confirmed it, moriel was supposed to be endgame. PERIOD! I still can't believe there are moriel deniers. Reading ACOMAF, moriel was the plan and that's a !fact! (TRUST, I was there when MAF realeased and the couples were feysand, elucien, nessian and moriel) and it became evident in ACOWAR that she changed her mind on them for unknown reasons.

So what do we know about them and their feelings for each other? In MAF Feyre noticed Azriel reactions towards Mor. I honestly find that so fucking funny when "Beautiful, but near-unreadable." and "His skin was as cold as his face." is how Feyre first describes his face, yet she clocks his feelings for Mor almost immediately.

"It was almost enough to distract me from noticing Azriel as those shadows lightened, and his gaze slid over Mor's body (...) A wisp of shadow curled around Azriel's ear, and his eyes snapped to mine. I schooled my face into bland innocence."

"Mor patted Azriel on the shoulder (...) The lurking shadow vanished entirely as Azriel's head dipped a bit (...)"

This was the very first scene where Feyre observed Mor and Az together.

"Yes - Azriel, who kept a step away, whose shadows trailed him and seemed to fade in her presence."

I find this interesting since some of you can say: "GOTCHA! His shadows vanishes around Mor like they do with Elain and moriel was supposed to be endgame in MAF" but I don't think this is good for the e/riels at all, as Sarah kept this going even after she decided that they weren't going to be together. This basically established e/riel to be moriel 2.0 and it didn't work out the first time, so why would it work a second time?

I find it interesting when Feyre, Rhys, Cassian and Azriel leaves to go see Elain and Nesta for the first time - Azriel decided to leave behind his shadows.

"(...) No shadows trailed us, as if he'd left them in Velaris."

Why? Because he didn't want to unsettle the sisters as they were there to convince them to work with them.

"Then I shifted to the right, grateful those shadows were nowhere to be found (...)"

"But Azriel's attention was on my sister, a polite, bland smile on his face. Her shoulders loosened a bit. I wondered if Rhys's spymaster often got his information through stone-cold manners as much as stealth and shadows."

How sweet! First meetings :D

To speed things up a bit, we have Mor finally telling Feyre more about their relationship. How she's aware he wants her, but doesn't see himself good enough to be with her.

“He might have defied and proved those Illyrian pricks wrong at every turn, but it won’t matter if Rhys makes him Prince of Velaris—he’ll see himself as a bastard-born nobody, and not good enough for anyone. Especially me.”

This is very crucial and something I'll circle back to later!

Then we have the cauldron scene that seemed to be what would finally make a change in their so far static relationship.

"Faster than any of us could see, Jurian fired a hidden ash bolt through Azriel's chest. Mor screamed."

"Mor was shaking - trying hard not to, but shaking as she stared at the protruding end of that arrow, visible between the gap in Azriel's wings."

"Jurian's sword was already out - and he was looking at Mor as if he was going to kill her first. Azriel's blood-drained face twisted with rage as he noticed that stare."

"Azriel cried out in pain. She froze."

"Mor looked at Azriel and there was real fear there. Fear - and something else. She didn't stop moving until she kneeled beside him and pressed a hand to his wound. Azriel hissed - but covered her bloody fingers with his own."

I've said this before and I'll say it again. If you know SJM terminology, you know what the "something else" means. This was the mating bond snapping into place for Mor. We were all waiting for it to be adressed in ACOWAR, but clearly that never happened.

As of WAR and FAS, Azriel's feelings for Mor doesn't waver. He continues to stare after her with longing, hunger, sadness whatever - even with Elain in the room fyi. But Mor's feelings for him has been changed irrevocably - as Sarah decides to sink the moriel ship once and for all by telling us Mor is not romantically interested in men, something Az is not aware of, as far as we know. And she continues to sleep with men, which makes him confused and hurt. Their relationship remains the same as it always has been.

So with this out of the way, let's take a look at Mor's reactions to e/riel!

"Azriel's hazel eyes churned as he studied my sister, her too-thin body. And without a word, he winnowed away. Mor watched the space where he'd been standing long after he was gone."

This is... an interesting reaction and something that Sarah obviously wants us to notice. So why is that?

"Az said nothing. No, he just moved toward her. Mor tensed beside me."

Ah, the lovely potato scene! As I was re-reading it, there really was nothing romantic about it whatsoever. Rhys explaining why, as this was more to highlight Azriel's ptsd than show any romantic indication between him and Elain.

However, Mor's reaction is certainly something to note on. She tenses as she watches them. And in here comes my reasoning as to why Az's POV is so important to her reactions. Because previously, we see Elain and Az together through other people's eyes, and it can come across as very sweet and innocent, ♫the start of something new♪ perhaps. But the BC really just threw any sliver of a chance for e/riel out the window, imho.

There was simply nothing sweet about Azriel's inner thoughts as he was interacting with her. His self worth is at an all time low around her, meaning it has most likely always been like that whenever they've been together.

He is so aware of his own flaws, his status, his looks etc and basically comparing himself to her. She is so flawless and good and he is this ugly monster.

"Az tried not to look at his scarred fingers as they took the gift."

"His shadows skittered back at the sound. They'd always been prone to vanish when she was around." ← as they do with Mor

"Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin."

"Wrong - it was so wrong."

"She looked up at him, her face so trusting and hopeful and open that he knew she had no idea that he had done unspeakable things that sullied his hands far beyond his scars."

"Such terrible things that it was a sacrilege for his fingers to touch her skin, tainting her with his presence."

"He hadn't gotten that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to." ← this is straight up diabolical💀

Although we have never gotten Az's POV when he's around Mor, I imagine it to be very similar in terms of how he views himself and them. And I think Mor understands this. When she looks at Elain and Az, she sees herself and him. And I think her heart breaks for him as she watched history repeat itself, likely knowing that there isn't much she can do but watch as he self destructs again and again.

As I mentioned, this makes me look at e/riels interactions differently when knowing how Az views himself around her. I believe this made every interaction between them, that could carry hints of potential romance, into something much darker than what it seemed like on the surface. And I think Mor sees this, as well as Rhys.

This kinda leads into a post I was planning on writing, but couldn't be bothered. But it was about Az and Rhys and how as of SF, the character that knows Az the best is Rhys. And we see Rhys shut down any e/riel interaction known to man. Feyre: "how handsome they could be together" and Rhys: "Azriel has been preoccupied with the same female for five hundred years" etc.

With the bonus chapter in mind, I have a headcanon that, like Feyre did to Lucien, Rhys used his daemati powers on Azriel and essentially read what we read, leading to him interrupting them as he (like many of us) did not view what was happening as something romantic. If you read on a surface-level, what Rhys did could appear mean, but to me, he did this because he cares for his brother and that particular kiss would not make Azriel feel better about himself. At all!

"What of Mor, Az?" Azriel ignored the question." ← He is not completely over her, even in SF.

If my headcanon is true (which we might never even find out) I just have to point out that Feyre found no ill will when it came to Lucien's regard for Elain, only concern, sorrow, longing etc. Compared with Rhys and Az, where good intentions was not on the table, but simply lust and self-hatred on Azriel's end at least.

I'm not sure why Sarah decided to toy around with e/riel except because Azriel was suddenly available after she decided to ditch moriel, but I do believe that they've turned into nothing but a red herring for gwynriel and elucien. And it worked, a little too well maybe.

See I could pull in my girl Gwyn and her scene with Azriel to compare and show the contrast of it, but I'm not going to..

"The young priestess smiled - and he thought it might have been directed at his curious shadows."

This is already... so different to what we've seen with the other two.

"He blocked out the bloody memory that flashed, so at odds with the Gwyn he saw before him now."

He thinks about her and how far she's come compared to when they first met.

"Her breath curled in front of her mouth, and one of his shadows darted out to dance with it before twirling back to him. Like it heard some silent music."

"He blinked. It wasn't every day that people took him by surprise, but..."

This is just cute c:

"Azriel couldn't help his soft chuckle."

"(...) rubbing his hands against the cold, grateful for its bracing bite and the distraction of this impromptu lesson."

He is aware of his hands and not thinking about how "ugly" they are when she is around him. He is also happy about this surprising lesson, not at all interested in being alone to mope anymore.

"Azriel laughed."

"(...) something restless settling in him. Even his shadows had calmed. As if content to lounge on his shoulders and watch."

You already know. But Az was in a shitty mood right before this, and it did not take much of Gwyn to calm him down, leading him to feel slightly better about himself and even feeling like he could get some sleep after all.

Compared to both Mor and Elain, his shadows are present and interacting with her and she's paying attention to them as well. Which is a first. And let's not forget the ✨spark✨

Which of these three ladies is better for Azriel? Mor and Elain are basically the same for him, himself and his shadows reacts more or less the same around them. Or Gwyn, which read in a lot more positive note than the previous two?

I think Sarah knows at least🤷‍♀️

[kaliforniahigh]

currently in desperate need of best friend!noah comforting me after i get stood up on a date the best way he knows how - railing me so hard and fast till i forget all about my terrible night 🩷🩷🩷

He hates to see you so dejected after yet another failed date. You're ranting to him, you're both sitting on the couch, but all he could focus on was how you just told him how sexually frustrated you are. Because most of the time, it wasn't even worth it letting them take you home. But when you did, the sex was so lame, you were left there to fend for yourself when you got home.

Christ, he couldn't stop the image if you, touching yourself, from invading his brain. He started to wonder how you liked it. If you liked it gentle or rough. What was your favorite position. What he could to have your legs shaking around him.

Suddently, he had to adjust himself on the couch, so you didn't notice his evident boner.

"I just want to find a guy who thinks about me for once, you know?", you huffed, and slouched on the couch.

"I think about you", he retorted, and you actually snorted at his reply.

"Yeah, but I think you know what I mean", you looked at him, and he raised an eyebrow at you, actually wanting you to tell you what you meant. "I just want a guy who can make me cum, that's what I meant"

"I could make you cum", he said, after a while of pondering if this was the right path to take.

"I'm sure you'd have no problem in making me cum. It's just that you're my best friend, you know?", he shrugged his shoulders in respose.

"Yeah, and best friends take care of each other"

There was a silence that followed his statement, you both feeling the weight of his implication.

"Are you actually proposing that we have sex?", you asked, wanting to be clear about the situation.

"That's exactly what I'm proposing", he looked you dead in the eyes, wanting to show you he was serious about this.

"If we do this, it could change everything. Some friendships don't go back to how they were after-"

"What if we don't go back to being friends? What if we could be something else instead?", he cut you off. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to. It's just that I hate seeing you like this. I'm right here, you know? I could give you whatever you want and you won't have to look at another jackass in the face ever again"

"Are you sure about this?"

"Baby, I was never so sure in my life"

[myechoecho]

When the Phone Rings, ep4

Well I guess I was wrong about Sa Eon knowing she can speak. I didn't have any strong feeling about that anyway. He was definitely shocked when he heard her cry and when he saw the police video of her speaking. I don't know what he thinks about that yet, but as for Hee Joo her trauma is deep set. She can only speak when she's alone or with her dad. It was pure rage and betrayal with the kidnapper and honestly she was more talking to herself. The panic attack is bad enough to get her to speak. The phone has been the buffer she needed to actually talk to Sa Eon. The phone has allowed them to be brutally honest with one another.

Sa Eon immediately took care of her father, whom he didn't even know about, moved him to a better nursing home and personally got him settled. Showed her father respect and care, put socks on him and told him that he will personally protect the two of them even though her father is unlikely to understand.

We get to see a flashback of when they met as children. Their mothers were both awful to them in different ways and the two of them were outcasts. I will say that I thought the line "when did you grow up so much" was flat out weird since they are only 2-3 years apart in age.

I loved the interview. I've seen some comments about how Sa Eon is toxic etc but Hee Joo is also kinda a freak. Girl has been obsessively studying his press conferences to the to the point she's not only memorized them all but can actively predict what consonants he will say based on the sounds his tongue makes hits the roof of his mouth (what in the bionic hearing is that??!!). Now Sa Eon knows she's not oblivious to him and thinks this obsession is hot and will obsess on it himself.

I adore the speech he had her interpret that specifically coded for them. That speech laid him bare and I also love how everything else falls away and it's only them. So far that has only happened when they are speaking as 406 and Sa Eon. The other people in the room must have been baffled.

Hee Joo finally gets the opportunity to tell him that he should learn sign language so they can communicate properly. I still don't know why he hasn't but the promo shows that he will learn.

Another thing I was wrong about was Hee Joo being on the other end of the text messages arranging the bride swap. I am now thoroughly confused about the sister. Hee Joo only has the one sister, unless I've completely missed something. Her mother said the Chairman's bio daughter was deaf. I even went back and checked. Sa Eon's father would have definitely thought that being deaf was a flaw so I don't know why he'd want her over the "flawed" Hee Joo. Is In A more nefarious than I thought? I am SO curious about her and how she ties into all of this.

I love how Sa Eon protected Hee Joo from the thrown glass and then put her behind him while his father raged. He kept firm hold of her hand in the elevator, while telling her not to pay them any attention. The comment that "they are the type of people who can easily replace their children" gave me pause though. It makes me wonder if Sa Eon had a sibling who did something and he was forced to be the replacement, similar to Hee Joo.

This show is so good it has two reveals at the end. First we get Hee Joo telling Sa Eon her deepest insecurities. Sa Eon staunchly defends her. He may not know her well, but he does know her. "She's not just supplementary pagers, she's a brand new language" made squeal. Sa Eon finds her on the roof on the phone. We get a flashback and find out that Hee Joo yelled at the police to get them to stop. They told this to Sa Eon, and he gets the video of it. It will take him some time to process it, but I am guessing he knows her mother has something to do with it.

Judging from the promo, Hee Joo will still be mute. But that will start to change. Are they on their way to becoming a power couple that will take down their parents and the kidnappers? Please yes.

[zhounauts]

͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏──── ☆ SUCKER 4 YOU ! S.JY x FMR ᵂᶜ⁶¹⁰

☰♪ TRACK 3 OF THE REWIND! ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏☆ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏SERIES MASTERLIST

JAKE HAD NEVER FELT THIS WAY BEFORE.

never had he had this feeling of constantly being at the beck and call of someone, being at someone's mercy seemingly, waiting for even a word.

and then you came crashing into his world, bright smiles and the powdery, sweet smell of prada candy perfume.

his feeling's were small at first. a slight flush at your touch, a smile when you laughed, and his heart fluttering when you gave him that smile of yours.

and then, it became all-consuming: with every little thing that you do, making his heart explode in his chest. every word, every glance, and every smile, jake just couldn't stop it.

his phone buzzes as he sits in jay's living room, and at the sight of your name lighting up his screen he drops his controller immediately, eliciting shrieks of protest from ni-ki.

"hello?"

"jake!" you laugh, "sorry was i bothering your time with your friends?"

"no!" he says, maybe too eagerly, ignoring stares from his friends all around him, "no you're fine. i'm all good, do you need something?"

"nah, i was wondering if you wanted to head to the convenience store," you say, "but if you're with your friends don't worry about it!"

"no, it's fine we're wrapping up anyways," a grin breaks out on his face, "i can meet you there,"

"are you sure?" you ask.

"never been so sure," he answers, breathless. you laugh again.

"alright jake, see you there," as soon as the line drops, jake's standing up from the couch to grab his jacket.

"woah, woah, what the hell?" sunghoon asks, "you can't just pack it up and leave!"

"oh," jake says, "sorry it's just that--"

"yn needs you?" jay asks.

"yeah i-"

"you're a sucker for her," sunoo chimes in, "you know that?"

"right! you do anything she tells or asks you to," ni-ki says.

"she's great and all, but seriously dude," heeseung says, "you've got it bad, and it's obvious to anyone,"

"has she even shown that she likes you back?" jungwon asks, "it's always you," there's a beat of silence that follows after jungwon's words, the hard-hitting truth crashing down on jake.

"whatever," he mutters, "it's not like that at all,"

chilly december air greets him as he heads to your meeting spot, the gears in his head turning at jungwon's comment.

right. his friend's were right. he was completely wrapped around your finger, while you've shown him barely any signs back. he put your needs first, always, whether it was picking you up , getting you your favorite drink, or watching corny romance movies he usually could care less for, and more.

it was obvious. seriously. and you probably knew it to.

yet, his thoughts come to a standstill when he sees you waiting outside the store, wrapped tightly in your puffer jacket and scarf and in your favorite uggs.

his five sense become overloaded at just you alone, and he feels his breath hitch in his throat.

"jake!" you greet, taking your hand out of your pocket to wave. you're gloveless, and from the redness on your nose he can tell you've been waiting.

"how long have you been here for?" he asks, worry laced in his voice.

"not long," you grin, "don't worry your pretty head about it,"

there you went again. nicknames. jake takes a gulp, trying to compose himself.

"how could i not worry about you?"

you go silent, before laughing, “they were right,” you smile, “you really are a sucker for me jake,”

“what?” he echoes, his mind scrambled and heart speeding up.

“you’re lucky,” you grin, “cause i’m a sucker for you to,”

taglist @jakesimfromstatefarm @t0asterexe @aubaee @rairaiblog @soobincantswim

@a-dream-bookmark @lionzyon @enhastolemyheart @flwrior @fgumi

@jaeyunologyy @firstclassjaylee @starry-eyed-bimbo @who-tf-soddhi

ZHOUNAUTS , 2024

[chancloud8]

Keep Playing

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Word Count: 2,8k

Summary: you tease chan while he plays the piano. he returns te favor, nearly destroying his piano in the process.

Tags: nsfw, smut, oral (m), a little touch denial, fingering, cumshot, piano s3x, just pure smut.

It started out innocent, with Chan playing random songs on his piano to help you relax. 

You've always enjoyed watching him play. You could sit there for hours, listening to the melody and watching his fingers move over the keys as he too got cought up in the music. When he played you could just feel the stress leaving your body, your muscles would relax and your eyes would automatically close. 

This time however. This time you're on your knees. 

'What are you doing?' Chan asks, his head cocked to the side and his eyebrows raised as he watches you settle on the floor between his legs. 

He stops playing and you pout up at him, patting his thighs with the palms of your hands. 

'Keep playing, babe,' you instruct him. 'Don't mind me. Just pretend I'm not here.' 

He raises his eyebrows at you as if to say 'Yeah sure, like I can do that?!' 

'You can,' you say as you slowly let your fingers wander over his thighs and towards the tied strings of his sweatpants. 'Please play for me baby.' 

Chan opens his mouth to protest, but when you stroke him over the fabric of his pants he closes his eyes in defeat and moves his fingers towards the keys of the piano again. Music starts to fill the room again and you smile in victory, moving your other hand upwards as well so you can grab the waistband of his sweatpants and tug a little. 

'Keep playing, but lift your hips,' you tell Chan, looking up at him through your lashes.

Chan swallows and does as you say, allowing you to slide his pants down. As instructed he keeps playing, but when you press your lips to the inside of his thighs, he messes up a few keys.

You giggle and push his thighs open further, watching goosebumps appear on his skin when you crawl even closer between his legs and kiss a trial towards the place on his leg where his boxers end.

'Y/N,' Chan whines when you pull at the fabric with your teeth before once again moving your hand up to trace the outline of his cock teasingly.

'Yes, my love?'

'Please don't make me keep playing, I want to touch you.'

You squeeze Chan's thighs and lift your head to look at him. 

'If you touch me, you can't play for me and if you don't play..' you nip at his thigh with your teeth. 'You won't get my mouth where you want it.' 

Chan groans and throws his head back in frustration, but his fingers keep moving on the keys, playing one of your favorite songs. He barely wavers when you press a kiss on his growing bulge so you decide to go a step further and close your mouth over his length, wetting the fabric of his boxers. 

'Fuck,' Chan mutters, his fingers slipping off the keys. 

You chuckle and wait till he starts playing again to tug at his boxers till it rips. Chan lifts his hips again and you easily slip the fabric off, freeing his long hard cock. There's a drop of pre cum on the tip and you happily lean forward to lick it off. 

Chan whimpers and messes up the melody again. You briefly wonder what the neighbours will think of the melody going up and down from good to bad, because they could definitely hear him play. 

'Y/N, please,' Chan pants. 'Please.' 

You know he wants to stop playing to touch you, to make you pay for teasing him like this, but you're not done with him yet. He'll get you back no matter what you do and you're already looking forward to it. 

'All in time babe,' you whisper. 'Just be good for me and I'll be good for you.'

He groans again and switches to a different melody, one you don't recognize, but it sounds pretty non the less. You don't give Chan any warning before closing your mouth around the tip of his cock, your tongue pressing against the underside as you softly suck and lick up another drop of pre cum.

'Fuck, fuck, fuck,' Chan mutters out, his body collapses forward and his fingers smash against the keys.

You wait till he finds the right notes again and gently wrap your fingers around the base of his cock while your tongue swirls around the tip. Even more salty liquid coats your tongue and you hum in delight at the taste. He might complain, but he sure as hell loves what you're doing.

'This is so unfair,' Chan moans, bucking his hips.

You ignore him and take his cock deeper in your mouth, bobbing your head as you messily suck and move your tongue up and down to slowly drive him insane.

The song Chan was playing ends abruptly and his hands find your hair, pulling hard. You let go of him with a wet 'pop' sound and look up through your eyelashes.

'What's the matter babe,' you tease, licking your lips. 'I thought you understood the rules.'

'Screw the rules,' Chan growls. 'If I have to suffer, you can at least take off your clothes.'

Chan's eyes are wild, his pupils so dilated that the black nearly swallows the brown. It's incredibly hot and you fight the urge to just stop this game and jump your very sexy boyfriend.

'Okay,' you nod and smile sweetly at him, bringing your hands up to cover his.

Chan's grip relaxes and he moves forward to get closer to you.

'Nuh-uh,' you shake your head. 'I didn't mean you could touch me. You're going to keep playing and I'm going to take off my clothes.'

Chan glares at you and you just know he's debating whether to give you your fun or if he'll take over control.

'You like my mouth on you, right?' You wink,  caressing his muscled chest with your hands. 'If you keep playing for me, I'll give you everything you want.'

'I already have you,' Chan counters. 'I'll play for a little while longer, but then you're mine.'

'I'm yours,' you grin, ignoring what he actually means.

Chan rolls his eyes and lets go of your hair so he can place his hands on the piano keys again. He starts playing the same song as before, his eyes locked on yours.

You bite your lips and try to look as sexy as possible as you pull your soft cotton dress over your head.

Chan makes a noise in the back of his throat that sounds like a mixture between a groan and a whine when he sees what you wear underneath.

Nothing but a black lace thong.

His eyes rake over your chest hungrily and his fingers twitch over the keys of the piano. He keeps playing though.

'Good,' you praise, leaning down again to reward him with a kiss on the inside of his thigh.

Chan's cock twitches against his stomach and you take it in your hands, slowly stroking the soft skin and leaning forward to lick a thick stripe all the way from the base to the tip.

'Do. Not. Tease. Me,' Chan let's out between pants.

You nod and take him in your mouth, enjoying the heavy feel of him against your tongue. He's warm, hard as a rock and the tip is soaked with pre-cum again. You circle your tongue around to tip to lick it up before taking him deeper.

Chan's hips buck forward at their own account and his pants get louder, but to his credit he keeps playing this time. 

You increase your rhythm and move your hand along with your mouth, coaxing more sounds out of Chan's throat. His leg tenses under your free hand and his hips buck forward again, more powerful than before, the tip of his cock grazes the back of your throat. You moan around him, knowing the vibration of the sound will make it feel even better for him.

'Aarghh,' Chan groans. 'Y/N, fuck.' 

Drool leakes from the corner of your mouth, but you don't care. This is about Chan, about his pleasure. 

'If you don't stop, I'll--' Chan starts to say, but you suck harder and twirl your tongue just the way he likes it to silence him. 

The music stops with a loud clunk of Chan's hands coming down so hard on the keys, that it hurts your ears. You look up from under your eyelashes to see the exposed skin of Chan's throat as he tilts his head backwards, his mouth agape in pleasure. 

It only takes one more twirl of your tongue and then he's coming in your mouth. Hot, sticky and salty. You swallow every drop as you caress Chan's thighs with your hands before letting go of him. 

'Now wasn't that fun,' you grin up at him, only to be met with a nearly feral looking Chan. 

The veins in his neck are clearly visible and he has this look in his eyes that makes you clench your thighs together. 

Uh. Oh. 

You don't get a chance to tease him some more as he pulls you up from under the piano by your hair. It doesn't hurt at all, all it does is makes heat pool in your belly. 

His lips are on yours then, hard and demanding while his hands roam your naked skin. You gasp when he lifts you up and his tongue wastes no time invading your mouth. The both of you groan and you climb into Chan's lap, wrapping your legs around his waist to get as close to him as you can. 

Chan's hands grab onto your naked ass, massaging the flesh as he kisses you like he's starving. It's messy and wet, but you don't mind at all, giving just as much back as he gives you, meeting his tongue for every stroke.

Without warning Chan stands up, bringing you up with him and the piano bench clatters to the floor at his sudden movement. You let out a squeal and pull back from his mouth to say something, but Chan won't let you, chasing your mouth and capturing your lips once more. 

Chan's hands move to your hips and you yelp into his mouth when your ass and back touch something cold and smooth. Goosebumps erupt all over your body. Did he just put you down onto his beloved piano? You get no time to think about it when Chan's fingers hook underneath the fabric of your thong and rip it from your body like he's the hulk.

You want to giggle, but once again Chan gives you no time to respond, licking into your mouth as his hands are everywhere. On your thighs, your hips, your breasts. He explores every inch of your skin with his big warm hands until you're a quivering mess and he hasn't even touched you where you most want it yet. 

'Chan,' you moan when he lets go of your lips to attach his mouth to your neck. 'Chan, please.'

Chan just hums and leaves a trial of open mouthed kisses from your neck to your breasts. He trials his tongue around your right nipple and you arch your back, wanting more, needing more. 

'Chan,' you whine, your fingers digging into the skin of his shoulders. 'Please, more.' 

You know you probably deserve his teasing after what you just did to him, but you also know that he loves it when you beg for him. 

'Tell me what you want baby,' Chan says against your skin, his breath tickling against the wet spot he left behind. 

Everything. You want it all, anything that he can give you. 

'I need your words baby,' Chan urges, scraping his teeth over your sensitive nipple. 

‘I- anything, please, just-’ you breathe out, tangling your fingers in the black strands of his hair. ‘I want- I need-, fuck.’

Chan chuckles and moves his mouth up to your neck again, licking and nibbling as he goes. 'I'm definitely planning on fucking you, don't worry.' 

You groan and pull on his hair, lifting his head up from your neck so you can look at him. It takes everything inside of you to take a deep breath and lift the lusty haze from your brain long enough to tell him exactly what you want. 

'I want you to touch me, I want your fingers inside of me and I want you to fuck me against your precious piano,' you say, your breath quickening with each word until you're nearly panting. 

Chan bites his lip and lets his eyes wander over every inch of your naked body. 

'You're so goddamn beautiful,' he whispers. 'How did I get so lucky?' 

You let out a whine and reach out for him. 'If you don't hurry up, I'm not sure how lucky you-' 

Chan doesn't let you finish. His soft lips are on yours once more and you sigh in relief, arching into him as he kisses you. His hands wander from your breasts, to your sides and finally to your legs. He pries your thighs open further and your heart rate spikes in anticipation, but then he pulls back again. 

‘Noooo,’ you whine. 

Chan chuckles and you instantly know it’s payback.

‘Look at you all wet and shiny, just for me,’ he says, slowly inching his fingers closer to your cunt. 

When his finger finally slides through your wet folds you moan in relief at the feeling. Chan chuckles again and moves forward to kiss your neck, his tongue slipping out to leave a wet stripe on your collarbone while he collects your juices with his fingers, moving up and down in a deliciously slow rhythm. 

‘More,’ you beg him. ‘Please.’ 

Your body jolts when he finds your clit, bumping it with his knuckle before repeating the same movement as before. He does it again and again until you’re a quivering mess, moaning his name and clawing at his back. 

‘More, Chan, please,’ you moan, grabbing onto his arm with one hand to try and move his hand. ‘I need you.’

Chan shushes you and slips his finger inside at the same time as he kisses you again, licking into your mouth. You gasp and your fingers fly to his hair again to steady yourself. He picks up the rhythm, flicking his thumb against your clit every time he plunges his finger inside.

Your body feels hot all over and your vision gets blurry when Chan crooks his finger in just the right way. 

‘Come for me, baby,’ Chan whispers against your breast before latching onto your nipple. 

And you do. Blackness fills your vision for a moment as your body goes taut before relaxing. 

‘Fuck,’ you whisper, feeling slightly drunk on pleasure. 

‘So beautiful,’ Chan grunts, moving you a little on the piano to get better access to you before plunging into you with one hard thrust, no warning whatsoever.

You let out a strangled moan, still sensitive from your orgasm and your eyes roll back into your head as your body tingles with pleasure. You wrap your legs around Chan’s waist for a better angle and the both of you groan when his long length pounds even deeper. 

‘Fuck, you feel so good Y/N,’ Chan pants, his hands on your hips to keep you steady. ‘So wet, so tight, so perfect for me.’ 

You capture his lips in a bruising kiss. It’s messy and wet, but it makes you feel even closer to him. Pleasure builds in your core deliciously and you pull back from his mouth.

‘I-I’m close,’ you moan, throwing your head back and giving Chan access to your neck instead.

His lips latch onto your pulse point immediately, sucking and nibbling at the skin. 

‘Me too, baby girl. Let it go.’

He pumps into you even harder, the piano creeks dangerously below your body but you give it no mind. He could break the damned thing as long as he wouldn’t stop fucking into you. 

‘Aaarghh,’ you cry out as overwhelming pleasure electrocutes your body. Your legs shake violently as Chan thrust into you once, twice more before coming deep inside you with a loud sexy as hell grunt.

You hold Chan close as you both come down from your high. Your fingers lazily trail his muscles as your eyes grow heavy. You always get sleepy after an orgasmn, and there's nothing you want more now than to curl up in bed under a pile of blankets and cuddle till you fall asleep.

'Carry me to bed?' you ask Chan, kissing his shoulder.

Chan slowly moves, still burried inside you. He presses his lips against your nose, your brow and then your lips, a little ritual he always does after the two of you have sex.

'Anything for you, love.'

*************

a/n: uhhh this was my first time writing y/n and m/f smut so i hope it's any good haha. please let me know your thoughts and be kind <3

taglist: @jaeminie-cricket

[lilbeanblogsabit]

Dear @polkadotpuddles and @daddyofalilbean

Please no points? Pweeaaase???

Unless that actually worked... I guess I better get to it...

Daddy! I am sorry for even insinuating that you were dumb! You are so smart! Smarty Daddy! I know this because I am smart! And yet still you make me feel dumb! Imma dumb baby! You're a smart Daddy!

Daddy, I realized that during the night I realized that I am so lucky to have a Daddy like you who is willing to take care of me, even though I keep plotting to fill your shoes with pudding.

Likely you are wondering what is happening, because you left me because you are so smart, and are 12 hours away from me and slept through everything. Let me start by saying, don't worry! Puddles has everything handled!

Even though I was very bratty, Puddles never was mean... I might have said she was mean, but I was wrong...

So because I was wrong, I am sorry for saying that Puddles is meanie to Beanie, because even though I think it might be true, I am obviously wrong. Puddles never meanie to Beanie

Since I am obviously wrong that puddles is a meanie, which means Puddles is not a meanie, that must mean that I am wrong about her being my least favorite babysitter, so she must be my favorite babysitter!

Unless anyone tells me otherwise! Puddles is and will always be my favorite babysitter!

Could anyone want a better babysitter? I mean she is not a meanie to Beanie, so shes perfect! Right?

Kind, caring, willing to punish you at a moments notice, perfect!

Since Puddles is perfect, I am sure she will take my punishment points away. Because I am sorry for calling my Daddy dumb, Puddles a Meanie, and have admitted she's my favorite babysitter! So points go bye-bye! Right?

[the-felttip-files]

Psst! Hey! Hey you!!

Yes, you!

C'mere!!

...

Hi there!!

Chances are, if you scrolled upon this post, that means you probably like puppet-themed projects!!

Welcome Home, My Friendly Neighborhood, Don't Hug Me I'm Scared, Threadville... surely you like, or at least know one of them!!

Well, if that's the case, then boy oh boy, I may just have something you might like!!~

May I present, one of my MANY personal projects, The Felttip Files~

Now, dear reader, you might be wondering, "What IS The Felttip Files?"

I am SO glad you asked!!~

The Felttip Files is a fictional universe/worldbuilding project I'm making, mostly taking place within the made-up city of Felttip, Puppetsylvania!

There are a few stories, within this universe [which interconnect nicely~], but that's not ALL this universe has to offer!!

In fact, I'm not even going to get INTO those stories!!

... Yet~

For now, let's simply get into what makes The Felttip Files fun!!~

Alright, just going to start this off by saying - the world within this project, in terms of Geography is pretty much EXACTLY like Earth, with just one small difference...

Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, is made out of foam, felt, cardboard, or some kind of art supplies. The planet, the plants, the animals, the people-

Speaking of the people - every single one of them.. is a puppet!

Humanoid puppets, monster puppets, animal puppets.. they all look like a character straight out of The Muppets!!

This place is every craft/puppet nerd's DREAM, LET ME TELL YOU-

It's me. I'm the craft/puppet nerd- 🧍‍♂️

However, not everything in Felttip is all sunshine and rainbows - and that's actually the problem!

You see, if there is ONE THING that the residents don't enjoy.. it's sadness.

Being a "Downer" is considered an absolute problem, one that should be fixed IMMEDIATELY!

If you've ever watched a playthrough of, or played the game We Happy Few, it's... a little like that-

It's considered a bit of a disease, among alot of puppets, one that the people "infected" by it often get discriminated against for.

In fact, this may be one of the things the big baddie of the universe is against~

Of course, not everyone hates Downers! In fact, there are quite a few safe havens for them, scattered about the city!

But, of course... these poor fellas can't catch a break.

Afterall.. alot of residents that have been disappearing are Downers!! Buttttttt, that's a story for another day~

Now, onto ANOTHER fun bit!!~

Look at these cute lil characters!!~

These are just a handful of the goobers that reside in this project..~

Of course, these are all simple concepts, but I should have some more art soon!!~

Now, I've definitely yapped for long enough...

If you're interested in this project, PLEASE!! Let me know by liking [and maybe reblogging /nf] this post, aswell as sending in a few asks about it!!!

I'd be more than happy to answer any questions about the world, characters, or stories within~

For now, though, this is where I shall bid you all adieu!

Thanks for reading!!

Buh-bye!!~

[riniworld]

your only one

sorcerer!oc x magic!student

warnings|| mention of an injury, blood.

reference|| you, y/n, use of them two times.

a/n|| yall i have been writing this since jun 29 😭.

you were only a child when you got abandoned.

in a world where magic is forbidden, you were born with it, how? you didn't know, not your father nor your mather had magic, maybe it's just the cruel rule of the world, or your bad luck.

you should have been dead, long ago, but your parents loved you so much, you think. they managed to take you out of the city before anyone can hurt you, you don't remember alot of the events, foggy memories, stormy night, a tall man and his words "run...to a better place, anywhere away from here." and silent. you wonder, did they ever told you that they love you? not that you care that much, at least.

now, after eighteen years, you're living with your master in magic, in a village filled with magicians, it's hidden with a spell so no none magic person can see it.

he's the one who found you in the wild, he helped you, giving you a life and a family, you had always seen aurelius as a big brother, but did he?

"Y/N! come on! wake up!" aurelius voice echo in the small house.

you stir a little as you open your eyes and roll on your back looking at the roof untill you come to your senses, today you'll work with your master after years of studying under him.

you hop out of the bed in excitement, you've been waiting for this day to come for ages.

you stretched your body,regaining your energy, before you can go to do your morning routine, you hear a knock on your door and before you can respond the person come in.

"he-ah you're awake? why didn't you say something?." aurelius said as he enters the room.

"good mornin' master,sorry, i just woke up." you say with a sheepish smile.

"figured so." aurelius chuckle, pointing at your state,and made his way out of the room "come quickly then, beofre the breakfast gets cold." he says before closing the door behind him.

you run down the stairs in a hurry, the delicious smell getting closer, making your stomach growl.

you see your aunt, aurelius mother, bringing the food on the table, you go to help her.

"good mornin' aunty." you say as you take the plates from her hands.

"morning dear." she followed behind you.

you put the plates on the table and sit down, across from aurelius mother.

"so where is master?" you ask when you didn't notice aurelius on the table.

"he got an emergency medicine request, so he had to go to the clinic." she said sitting down, "he said he'll-" she begin but you where nowhere to see.

you appear behind aurelius,it was one of the simple spells he taught you,teleportation.

"that was faster than i thought" he says without looking at you,mixing some ingredients in a bowl.

you walk beside him, watching what he's doing "it was supposed to be my first day working with you, you can't just come without telling me."

"it's not the work hours yet , it was an emergency." he says matter of fact.

"even though..." you mutter to yourself.

"but you're here anyway so mind bringing me a small bottle glass from there?" he points to a shelf filled with glasses of all sizes and shapes.

"..right away" you walk to the shelf and look for what he wants "to whom is the medicine anyway?" you ask.

"to salami's daughter, her temperature is high...again" he sighs "i told him to not let her tires herself out in using her powers but i don't know who's the stubborn one in them."

"poor girl." you say as you hand him the glass.

"you put it in the bottle, weren't you just whining about working,so here." he says as he walks to the side giving you space to the bowl.

your eyes lit up in excitement as you begin to put the medicine in the bottle,since it's magic, everything should be put carefully so as a starter that was much of a trust aurelius has put on you.

"be careful." he whisper, his breath tickling your side, you shoukd be focused on the medicine but you're hyper aware of aurelius every move, maybe because you're nervous..?...or is he a little bit too close this time?

trying to not mess this up,while at the same time aurelius's present is heavy for some reason, you take a scoop from the bowl and put it in the bottle slowly, then repeated this a few times until the glass filled to the top.

"excellent." aurelius praises you as soon as the glass filled, he took the glass from your hand,his fingers brushing yours.

"now, may you take the medicine to salami's house?" he say as he close the glass bottle with a wooden piece "I'll open the store."

"sure." you say in a distant tone, you're still thinking about his intimidated presence a moment ago, that was the first time you feel like that by aurelius.

the next days were heaven to you and hell to aurelius.

the work was easier when the two of you did it together, and you were enjoying every second of it, how can you not when it's your dream?

and aurelius was happy that you loved what you did, and you were very passionate about it too, but he can't shake the bothering feeling in his chest whenever you talked to a client, he wasn't stupid he knew that he had fallen for you long ago.

but when he glanced at you and saw you talking to another client, that's wasn't the feeling he's used to, it's something dark, it's sting, and hurt.

he tried to control it and he couldn't, it's too strong for him to just ignore it, a lot of voices in his head, and it certainly were not angles, but he won't listen to them, after all your happiness is more important..

or it was more important before the last straw hit him.

"doctor!" someone yell, it was followed by a loud thud.

when you ran out of the back room to see what happened, you were greeted by a man carrying an unconscious man on his back...and he was bleeding!

the man looked at you, he was panicing "y/n! where is doctor aurelius?!"

"put him on that bed I'll take care of him!" you said frantically.

the man did what you told him quickly, the other groan as he put down, you left his shirt up,inspecting the wound on his stomach, it wasn't that deep but it sure was bleeding heavily.

"what happened?" you ask the man while taking a cloth bandage it on the other's wound to press temporarily,then start moving around preparing an ointment.

"we were hunting and-and a wild boar attacked us out of nowhere" he explained.

"are you okay?" you look up at him from the mixing bowl worriedly.

"uh-y-yes, yes I'm fine,but my friend isn't."

"don't worry I'll do everything i can do to help him"

you make the ointment as fast as you can,while also trying not to make a mistake, it's not common for someone to get an injury here, the people aren't alot anyway, so it was rare that you see aurelius treat one, but good thing he did teach you how to anyway.

not 15 minutes before you finish it, then take it quickly to the patient,you take off the bandage and the cloth, taking another cloth to clean the wound properly before putting the ointment on his injury, very carefully as to not press on it.

you were focusing entirely on it before you hear glass shattering that makes you jump and stop, you look up to the direction the sound came from in surprise, only to see aurelius standing in the doorway, the shattering came from a jar he has dropped.

"what are you doing?" his tone was natural, but his gaze was one of madness, a man lying down, your hand on his bare stomach, how can he not be mad?.

before you can reply the man spoke "doctor aurelius! please my friend is injured!" the man was nearly screaming but aurelius kept holding your gaze, you don't know why his stare gives you chills, you have never been scared of him but now? now he's not him.

aurelius took all the work, he treated the patient and told his friend to take him home and that he's going to visit between days.

now it's only awkward in the clinic,you know he's mad at you,but for what?.

"mas-"

"go home, you need to rest." he cut you off, his tone leaving no room to argue so you nod and left.

'why am i that angry, it was my choice to teach them and making them work with me, but god that's only testing me.....what i did was wrong..yes i shall fix this, and start all over again'

he unlock a box,and take a book from inside «forbidden magic» was the title.

may the world forgive him but he needs to do this.

a soft knock on your door, it's late but you couldn't sleep,"come in" hoping it was your master, and for your relief it was.

"hey,wanna join me for a drink on the rooftop?" he was holding two cups in his hands.

"sure" you agree, it wasn't uncommon for you two to drink on the rooftop, not necessarily alcohol, but it was refreshing.

"are you upset with me?" you ask warily, as you take a sip from your drink.

"upset? no why would i silly?" he says with a smile, it sounded genuine so you smiled back, taking another long sip from your drink.

aurelius was talking, you can hear his voice, but you can't make out most of what he is saying, your head throbbing and you feel dizzy,you eyes blurry.

"are y-k-ay?" you made out a few letters from what aurelius saying but you couldn't stay awake long before you fell down, the last thing you felt was a pair of hands holding you and then everything is dark.

"ey- y/n? y/n!" you wake up at someone, calling a name, your eyesight got better and you saw who it was.

"aurelius?" that came out naturally, like you knew him, did you? you do...a few image of him appear in the back of your head, but who exactly is he? why you know him?..wait who are you?

"oh thank god, you're awake" he exhale in relief

when he saw your confused expression he returned it "why are you looking at me like that?" he asks

"i don't know...i don't remember anything." you say hesitatly.

"what you don't remember? you just said my name"

"i-..i didn't think..it just came out,i don't know who are you exactly."

for a moment you swear you catch him smiling but it disappeared quickly.

"oh my...the accident must have really affected you." his tone is filled with sadness.

accident?

"what accident?" you ask.

"it's not worth mentioning, that might only hurt you." you trusted him..for some reason you did, but you can't tell why.

"then who are you?"

aurelius smile softly and look you in the eyes "I'm your husband"

have a good day/night♡

[teaguehq]

Thank you for that reassurance since I always wonder if people who've been in the business longer have a better way of shaking off characters after the project's over. Like I know that I should balance things while I'm filming and that helps a lot too, though I'm sort of terrible about that, admittedly. Maybe better than I used to be, but still have some work to do there. Absolutely, John's an amazing character and it's so much fun to see you play him. You don't give the fighter vibe or the diva vibe, though the latter is amusing to picture! I think I'm good since I haven't been acting like an ape for a while, though I'm on another project right now that's been a little exhausting for the subject matter. I'm so happy to hear your birthday went well, and your song got you a present?! Which I'm impressed by since he's so young! Did he give you a hug or say his first word or something like that? And I hope he had a great first birthday celebration as well! You're so kind, honestly, and I appreciate that so much. Plus it was great getting to hang out with you too, and we'll have to do it again! Now you're making me sheepish calling me a good actor too! Those types of roles are fun to take on when they're so unlike me, it's like getting to explore something new. You'll have to let me know what you think if you end up watching The Stand, and we had some talented people in that if I do say so myself. I can't officially say we've been greenlit on the record quite yet, but it's looking good that it'll happen! So if it does, you're guaranteed a pair of ape arms, I promise. Oh gosh, so it's something parents will always be concerned about no matter the age! Though you on a bike is the coolest, so politely I have to disagree with your mom there. And like you said, you've given up smoking! Of course, I'd be seated for another John Wick film without question, and even better if he had a dog! I did see the trailer for Ballerina, and it looks like an incredible film, so excited about seeing that. And I'm golden on not moving like an ape, thankfully! Yeah, Noa and Mae's story is interesting and I know I'd be excited to tell more of it! And to steal a camera too, though that's our secret! | @keanued

you're very right about that -- the longer you work on a character, the more that character is inside your head, the harder it is to shake for sure. especially when they're complex characters too, you know? but i'm glad it makes you feel better, my friend, and yeah, us seasoned actors deal with the same struggles, no doubt about that, so you're not doing a single thing wrong! oh wow, thank you for such a compliment, that really makes me feel pretty good, you know? i love john and playing him, so i'm glad so many people feel that way. i'm so glad that i give off that vibe, because i couldn't imagine anyone thinking i was a fighter. though i laugh at the idea of someone sometime saying i'm truly a diva or something -- just to see what people say! exactly that, but hopefully you've done well with repairing everything afterward since it's been a while! i did end up celebrating my birthday exactly the way i wanted to -- i was with my family, and it was perfect. even my son got me something, which is funny since he's not even a year yet! well, he'll be a year old in a few weeks! you really do look like a sweet guy and after meeting you in salem, you proved to be a sweet guy in person too! see, i love people who are so nice in real life taking on dark roles because you can really mess with people then, plus it shows how great of an actor you are! i've read the stand but never watched it, and i'm now going to! i heard that you guys got greenlit for a second one though, or is that a rumor on the internet? sometimes the rumors on the internet get me! but if that's true, i'll be expecting my ape arms. not at all, my friend, i'm sixty and my mom pretty much still thinks i'm losing my mind. the other day she told me i needed to stop fooling around my bikes so much -- that i'm too old for that, and i can't help but laugh at that a little. and i was like i gave up smoking, but i'm not giving up my bikes! thank you for saying you'd watch a new john wick film, and i'm pushing for him to have another dog, honestly! i'd rather he have a dog over a love interest! and you saw the trailer for ballerina? i'm glad to hear that you're excited for it -- ana is so talented, you're going to love the film. well, seeing you in salem, you were walking pretty normal, so i think you're golden now, right? oh, there's 100% more to the story that could be told, and i just want to know what happens to noa and mae, what's next in their story! though i'm laughing that you want to steal a camera that much, and honestly, i hope you're able to! || @teaguehq

[kumasakka]

Hi do you write about manager kim?

And if you do can you make one about mr kim.

And if you did please dont do it smut.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❝ 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ! ❞

⋆.˚ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. your daughter set you up with your ex-husband even though you ended in bad terms — well you ended in bad terms, he had his reasons .

⋆.˚ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. manager kim x reader .

⋆.˚ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. ~1.3k .

⋆.˚ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. fluff. f!reader. INSPIRED BY DETECTIVE CONAN. self - made au kinda ! [reader is not replacing the actual mother, they got married after manager kim's past] . spoiler - free. safe for minors! crappy writing. manager kim's name never got mentioned. manager kim may seem ooc .

　“PLEASE!”

Minji plead, ready to get down onto her knees what she swore to never do infront of someone. But it's you we're talking about. And you're undoubtedly the mother Minji never had, who was once happily married with her father. But due to unknown reasons, you two divorced — he divorced you for whatever reason without letting you know the reason. You're still angry, up to this day.

"Get up, Minji. We're done discussing about this topic." you began pinching her ear with one hand, letting her yelp in pain.

"But mom! Dad is hopeless. You're hopeless too. You two aren't even interested in dating, only staring at your rings." she complained, finally standing up, "why are you even wearing those rings?!"

"You're still a child. You wouldn't understand." you huffed, avoiding her question as you eventually let go of her ear. "Now, if you're so free, you can help me with dinner."

She only groaned in annoyance before trailing after you to the kitchen, not letting out another sound after this — well that was until a light bulb lit up over her head. "How about going to a blind date. I will set you up with someone who is also divorced." she suggested and cut the onions like how you instructed her to. "Maybe you'll get over dad and stop wearing that ring which reminds you of him."

"Cut the onions smaller." you demanded while thinking about her offer, "...only if you promise you don't set me up with your father."

"Yes, yes! Promise! Thanks mom— ow!" and with that, she accidentally cut her own flesh.

Broken promise though.

Quietly, you sat in a somewhat loud yet cozy coffee shop while the man infront of you stared at his cup, not daring to break the silence. And you weren't on the better end, blankly watching how your fingers fidgeted around the ring, inwardly deciding to still keep it on. The child of the devil — literally the child of the devil smiled and wished you two good luck.

"I'll take my leave if you don't mind!" Minji stood up and quickly left the awkward scene.

The silence, covered mostly by the tuned out chattering from other tables, was never more uncomfortable for you than right now. You felt like a highschool girl, sitting infront of her ex boyfriend while wondering why he broke up without giving her any reasons. So you just stood up, not noticing how he was about to open his mouth to say something, anything to break the silence.

"If you could excuse me for a moment." you went to the toilette without sparing him a second glance.

"Of course..." he muttered, his eyes glanced over something.

As you reached your destination, you couldn't help but stare at your reflection in the mirror. "I'll never forgive Minji for this." you sighed out and closed your eyes. "I talk like a highschool kid." you wanted to slip off the ring to wash your hands but then you noticed that you weren't wearing it anymore. You look around frantically, searching for the small ring as you had a little breakdown because you did not find it.

Maybe, maybe it slipped when you stood up or when you were still sitting at the table. Somehow you were desperate. Even though the ring only reminded you of your divorce with him. So why are you still clinging to this damned ring that brought back unpleasant memories? Right. "I should just forget about it and go back." you ran your hand over your face as you just left the toilette again.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

Your house was a mess. Blankets and pillows all over the floor, every openable cabinet is open and your clothes were flying across the room. "I thought that I maybe lost it at home." you groaned and hit your head against your wardrobe. As you were lost in thoughts as you didn't hear the sound of ringing and knocking against your door. "Oh!" you swiftly stood up and walked to the door.

"Did I order something?" you muttered under your breath and opened the door slowly.

"No! I'm giving you the flowers without any instructions..." he denied right away. "I came here without Minji."

But as soon as it got opened, the faster it got closed before you ran to the toilette, looking into the mirror to fix your messy appearance and then running back to the door. "What do you want?" you asked, opening the same door you just slammed close infront of him. "Did Minji send you here to give me some flowers?" your eyes wandered down to the bouquet of flowers he was holding and then up to his bruised cheek.

"What do you want then?" you crossed your arms, considering whether you should put trust into his words and accept the flowers or just decline them straight away.

"I-I'm here to give you this." he stuffed his hand into his pocket and got out a small ring, giving it to it's rightful owner.

"Huh?" your arms dropped, your eyes softened. "H-How did you notice that I'm still... Where did you find it?"

"In the coffee shop." he answered as he pushed the bouquet forward so you would finally accept them. And you did, to his luck. "You used your other hand more often even though you're right/left-handed, you also played more with your hands than usual and you also tried to hide your right/left hand..."

After this, you couldn't help it. Your eyes widened slightly as the blood rushed to your cheeks. Was it because of embarrassment or rather flattery? "Thanks..." you mumbled your gratitude and held those flowers close to you with one hand, the other was ready to take the ring back. Just for him to gently grab your hand and slowly slip it back to your ring finger for you to watch

"Of course, no need to thank me." he said as if it didn't affect him at all. As if his heart wasn't about to leap out of his chest. He feels normal. Something that he would never call himself. Not with his past and line of work. "Do you have time this weekend?"

"Great. I'll pick you up at six pm." he lets your hand go before bowing slightly like he was a stranger but infact, he was never a stranger to you. Not even after divorcing you. "Good night."

"I do." the reply came without wasting a second and it made him smile.

"Thanks. Good night to you too..." you wished him, watching him take his leave as you stood at the entrance of your home with a bouquet of flowers and a glowing ring.

Maybe it didn't only bring back bad memories. Maybe you also thought back when you were the happiest with the brightest grin on your lips. Yes. Because of him, you were at the peak of happiness. The subtle actions and the gentle phrase of words of his. It made you happy and smile that shone brighter than the stars and sun itself.

"—so that's why you came back home with a big bruise on your cheek?" Minji asked and her eyes drifted to her father's face. "Because you entered the women's bathroom to search for her ring and someone caught you?"

bonus !

"You make it sound like I'm a pervert..." he sweatdropped. "..."

"...dad, why did you divorce mom?" she asked which followed the silence.

"Erm... Because they began to target her after they found out [name] is my wife." a bullet of cold sweat glided down his forehead.

"WHAT?!" Minji's voice was loud, booming through the car while she was sitting on the passenger seat. "YOU DIDN'T TELL HER?"

"Shhh..! Don't scream..."

© 2024 kumasakka — do not plagiarize , copy , modify , translate our work !

a/n's note — btw anon, thanks for the request I had a lot of fun !! AND IF YOU DIDN'T KNOW, WE DON'T WRITE SMUT SO NO NEED TO WORRY <3