#I finally get to feel what those people with Spotify felt

[a-s-levynn]

"Even if the sky cracks in mourning / And the heavens just won't open up for me" A Series of Small Offerings - II/12 - day20

[zepskies]

Lost on You - Part 3

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: The tables are about to turn…

Word Count: 3.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Implied smut, drug use (weed smoking), and a bargain struck…

🎙️ Series Masterlist || YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

Part 3: A Deal is a Deal

Once you were back from your little excursion, you were relieved to return to the privacy of your room. You dropped heavily down on the bed, face first, with an oof.

Rolling onto your back, you stared up at the white ceiling. Perfectly white. Unbidden, the memories of spending the day with Ben filtered through your mind. You were a little put out to realize you had mostly enjoyed yourself through it all, even though you knew he was only doing it to hook you in. To charm you.

To fuck you.  

But the memory of his cocky grin, the restrained power in his hands whenever he touched you, the feeling of his lips dragging against your skin, and his sinful voice…

Well, pulling away from him had taken more restraint than you’d anticipated. Rolling your eyes at yourself, you sat up and went over to your desk where your phone sat. It was time to check in at home.

You dialed the number from memory and waited as the line rang.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Dad, it’s me.”

“Oh! Hey, honey. How’s it going over there. You all settled in? Get to do your first save yet?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m good,” you said. “I was meant to do my first save today, but…well, some things didn’t go according to plan.”

“Oh, really?” He sounded disappointed. It carved another small notch in your gut.

“It’s no big deal. I’ll get another chance soon,” you promised.

“Your first save on camera is important for your PR. They can’t wait too long on that,” he said.

You resisted the urge to sigh. You dropped your forehead into your hand, still holding the phone to your ear with the other.

“Yeah, I know,” you said. “Anyway, how’s Mom?”

He sighed. “You know. Good days and bad days. Today…today was a bad day.”

You tugged your lower lip between your teeth. Your brows furrowed with concern, and a familiar ache settled in your chest.

“Can I talk to her?” you asked.

“Ah, I just got her to take her medication. She’s resting now.”

“Okay. Yeah, don’t worry about it then,” you said. “…Do you think you guys will be coming up to visit with Chris this weekend?”

“You know what, I’m sorry, honey. I just don’t think it’s a good idea. All those people,” he said. You were nodding before he finished the thought, even if he couldn’t see you.

“Yeah, it’s okay. They’ve got me pretty busy right now, but I’ll come by and see you guys when I can.”

“All right. Sounds good,” he said. “Oh, before I let you go. I got the latest bills on your mother’s treatments. It’s just, it’s a bit too much for us. Think you could help us out again?”

You paused for a second, but you readily agreed.

“Sure, just let me know how much. I’ll write you a check.”

“Perfect. Thank you, honey.”

“Yeah, of course,” you said. “Um, tell Mom I said hi then. When she wakes up.”

“Aw, I will. Don’t worry. Now, go out there and make some saves!”

Your lips pursed. “Yep, will do.”

When you hung up with your father, you felt even more exhausted than before.

You had another mission on your schedule, this time with Black Noir, Soldier Boy, and Gunpowder. Your excitement had built all day after Arthur’s assistant Joanna called you with the news.

However, when you got downstairs to the lobby where you were meant to meet the team, you found Crimson Countess in heated discussion with Arthur himself. 

He looked a bit exasperated, but was trying his best to be professional with her. You had a bad feeling about this. 

“I understand, but this is meant to be Sirena’s day,” Arthur said. “We’ll get you and Soldier Boy together on the next one. Just you two, if you guys want.”

“It’s just that Ben and I haven’t done enough together recently. I miss him,” she said, hanging off her boyfriend’s arm. Ben himself seemed to be going along with the idea, looking like he didn’t much care one way or the other. Yet his slight smile looked smug. It likely stroked his ego to have her wanting to be with him for once. 

She even leaned up for a kiss. Ben spotted you out of the corner of his eye. His smile kicked up a notch before he obliged her with a slow kiss.

Your gaze fell to the ground as you swallowed your irritation. It wasn't jealousy, however. You knew exactly what she was doing.

Arthur sighed. He’d noticed you as well. He gave you an apologetic look, but he came over and informed you that it would just be original team members today. Considering the last episode with you and Countess, he thought it best that they didn’t team you up again for your first official save.

Couldn’t agree more, you thought, but it also meant that you wouldn’t be going out with the team today. You’d be losing a prime opportunity to show what you could do and finally get the ball rolling on some good PR.

Countess shot you a wink when she and the rest of the team started to head out. You gave her a fake smile.

Fucking bitch.

The weekend came, and you had to put on a good face to hide your latent frustrations from your brother, Chris. He and his family had come to visit you, driving over from Queens.

When they arrived in the Tower lobby, you went to them and let your brother pull you into a big bear hug. It brought a genuine grin to your face as you hugged him back. You hadn’t seen him in months.

“Hey, troublemaker,” he said.

“What do you mean? I’ve been on my very best behavior,” you quipped.

He smiled wryly. “I’m sure.”

He pulled back so that Danny, your four-year-old nephew, could run up to you. You bent to his level and gave him a big hug as well.

“Hey, buddy!” you said. “Did you get the action figures I sent you for your birthday?”

“Oh, he did,” said Ellie, your sister-in-law. “To no one’s surprise, Soldier Boy’s his favorite. He sleeps with it under his pillow.”

You laughed a little dryly at that. Danny was a big superhero fan as well, but there was no accounting for taste. Your brother sidled up to you for a conspiring whisper.

“Yeah, about that. Is the big guy busy?” Chris asked. “Because I may have accidentally promised Danny that he’d get to see Soldier Boy today, and he hasn’t shut up about it ever since we started planning this trip. It’s literally the only thing he wants. So maybe now that you’re a famous superhero, you can do your big bro a solid so the kid doesn’t have the world’s most epic meltdown—”

“All right, all right. Shut up,” you said, holding back a laugh. Inside though, you were strained.

Shit.

“Okay, why don’t you guys hang out in the lobby for a bit, check out the gift shop,” you said. “I’ll…see if Soldier Boy isn’t too busy.”

You braved going up to Ben’s apartment on the penthouse floor, where three beautiful, if scantily clad escorts were just leaving. One of them was stuffing a wad of cash into her bra. Rolling your eyes in disdain, you almost lost your nerve.

This isn’t for you, you reminded yourself. It was for your nephew.

So you knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” you heard from inside.

“It’s me, Sirena.”

There was a pause, but eventually he replied.

“Come in.”

You had some trepidation twisting the knob and opening the door. When you stepped into his suite for the first time, you weren’t surprised to be assaulted by the smell of sex and weed smoke. You waited in the foyer of a lavish space, with shiny marble floors and rich dark wood furniture.

Ben padded out to you barefooted, but at least he was clothed, in a black silk robe no less. He was also smoking a fat blunt.

“What’re you, Hugh Hefner?” you couldn’t help a remark.

Ben grinned around his oral fixation. He blew a coil of dank smoke up into the air.

“Who do you think gave him the whole Playboy idea?” Ben said. He eyed you in your supe suit. “What can I do for you, baby doll? You caught me at a good time. Although, about twenty minutes ago would’ve been even better.”

Hiding your disgust, you waved the gray, musty cloud away from your face.

“Since it’s a good time, I actually wanted to…ask you for a favor,” you said. You knew how dangerous that really was by the way he smiled.

“Okay,” he said expectantly. You released a breath to steady yourself.

“My family’s here visiting, and understandably so, you’re my nephew’s favorite superhero.”

Ben chuckled through his nose, releasing more smoke like a fire breathing dragon.  

“Understandably, huh?”

“Of course,” you said. You made sure your smile seemed sincere. “Look, about what happened last week…I hope you’re not upset with me. I had a lot of fun with you that day, and I’m really grateful that you wanted to show me a good time. To be honest, I’m incredibly flattered that you even noticed me.”

You took a step closer into his orbit, until your chest was inches away from brushing his. He looked down at you. 

“But I know I’m the rookie here. I don’t want to step on any toes, especially Countess’s. I have a feeling she doesn’t like me very much,” you said. Your eyes were half-lidded in demure. 

You were putting on your best performance. He only took half the bait, however. Ben’s mouth quirked at the corner, and he set his blunt on a nearby ashtray.

“I understand,” he said. “So what do want from me?”

Hmm, maybe your rejection had bruised his ego more than you expected. But really, he had to be refusing to break up with Countess for appearance’s sake, because there didn’t seem to be any real love there.

Christ, he wants to have his cake and eat it too.  

“Well, like I said. My nephew is downstairs, and he’d really love to meet you,” you said. “Could you, uh…pretend to be a little more family friendly for a minute and take a quick picture with him?”

Ben frowned, like he was offended. “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean? I’m a family guy.”

You raised a brow. Glancing around his apartment, you didn’t see any pictures on the walls, nor had you ever even heard him talk about his family.

“What’s in it for me then?” he asked, crossing his arms.

You blinked your eyes wider. Really?

“I doubt whatever you’re thinking, Soldier,” you said, a little more snidely than you meant to.

Ben’s cocky smile said it all.

Your lips pursed in exasperation. You hadn’t thought you would have to bargain to get him to be nice to a kid. 

“Okay, I’m sorry. Clearly you’ve had a long day, so I’ll just get out of your way,” you said, raising your hands in surrender. You turned to leave.

“All right, don’t get your panties in a twist,” he said.

You paused at the door, tossing him an annoyed look over your shoulder.

His smile deepened. “I’ll do it.”

His steps were measured as he approached you. You turned back to face him, albeit warily. As he seemed to like doing, he gently grasped your chin between his fingers.

“I’ll do it for a kiss,” he said.

You tried to stifle your smile of amusement.

“One kiss?” you clarified.

“One kiss,” he agreed. “That’s harmless, right?”

Unlikely. But it was a bargain you were willing to make. It might even work in your favor.

“Okay,” you nodded, guiding his hand away from your face. “After you hang out with my nephew, for five minutes at least.”

He smirked at you. “You’re a demanding little thing.”

You gave a more impish smile. He then walked away to his bedroom, presumably to get dressed. You hoped he’d take a quick shower as well.

Ben found you downstairs in the lobby, now cleaned up and dressed in his supe suit. He hammed it up with your family. He was charming with your brother and your sister-in-law, and welcoming to your nephew, calling him young man and sport and pal and recounting an old war story with gusto. 

When it was time to take a picture with Danny, Ben lifted the kid up into his arms, pretending he weighed a ton. It made a normally shy Danny giggle with glee, and Ben playfully held him under his arm so he could ruffle his hair. You noticed some genuine joy on the man’s face.

Afterwards, Danny even unzipped his backpack and showed his hero his collection of action figures. His prize’s possession, of course, was Soldier Boy.

Things were going so well that Chris and Ellie felt comfortable enough to break off and grab some food at the food court, while you stayed with Ben and Danny. They sat on one of the couches in the lounge area, play fighting with the action figures.

“So, got yourself a girlfriend yet?” Ben asked.

When Danny made a face of confusion, you shot the man a pointed glance.

“He’s a kid, Ben.”

He shrugged with a grin. “Fine. A little early for that, huh? Trust me, not for long.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“What’s your favorite sport to play at school then?” Ben asked.

“Ummm…” Danny thought about the question. He was busy creating a small Lego tower for Swatto to perch on. “Connect 4.”

“Connect 4?” Ben repeated. He shot you a glance, and he leaned over. “Kid ain’t too bright, is he?”

“He’s four years old,” you whispered indignantly. “He’s not exactly getting drafted for the NFL.”

Again, Ben shrugged you off and continued playing with the kid. You had a feeling he was enjoying it more than he’d be willing to admit.

When Chris and Ellie returned with food for you and Danny as well, Ben took it as his cue to duck out of the rest of the family activities.

“Thank you for your time, Soldier Boy,” Chris said, shaking his hand firmly. You knew he was trying to come off as manly as he could. You hid a smirk behind your hand while Ben obliged him with a nod.

“Yes, thanks so much!” Ellie gushed. She’d got a picture on her own with Ben earlier, and Chris had tried to pretend to be okay with the way she’d hung off the supe’s arm with proverbial stars in her eyes.

“You’re very welcome, ma’am,” said Ben, laying a smiling kiss on her hand. You thought her heart might just stop right there.

You sighed and took Ellie by the shoulders. “Okay, why don’t you sit down before you pass out.”

“Good idea,” she said breathily.

“You’re leaving?” Danny asked. He looked up at Ben with big glassy eyes, and he started to cry.

Chris grasped his shoulder and smoothed back his hair. “Aw, buddy. Soldier Boy’s really busy, and it was really nice of him to spend so much time with you.”

You laid a hand on Danny’s other arm. You glanced up at Ben, imploring him with your eyes, though you didn’t exactly know what you were asking for.

With a subtle sigh, Ben relented. He lowered down and took a knee in front of Danny.

“All right, none of that now. There’s two things a man doesn’t do: cry, and take shit from anybody,” he said. You frowned, but before you could say anything, Ben laid a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “I’m not going to forget you, Danny. In fact, I’m really glad I got to meet you today. Because I can tell you’re gonna be a great man someday.”

Danny sniffed, but his tears stopped. He smiled when Ben ruffled his hair again.

Despite yourself, you smiled too as you watched the scene.

Maybe he does have a heart in there somewhere.

After dinner, you gave your brother and his family a tour of Vought Tower, including your apartment. An hour later, you led them back to the lobby. They had booked a hotel nearby and were planning to see more of the city tomorrow before they went back to Queens.

You were grateful to get some time alone with your brother first, while Ellie took Danny for one last stop at the gift shop. You and Chris sat together in the lounge area.

“Is Dad still asking you for money?” he asked.

You frowned at him. “For Mom’s medical bills. It’s not like it used to be.”

“Okay,” Chris said, glancing away. “It’s just ironic that Mom and Dad can’t really appreciate how far you’ve come, after everything they did to get you here. After everything you did to get here.”

You sighed. They’d had variations of this conversation before, and it never ended well.

“It’s not her fault she got sick,” you said.

“Yeah, it can’t be the pack-a-day she smoked since we were kids.”

“Chris.”

“Well, it didn’t just tickle her lungs and kidneys,” he pointed out. “I swear, our family should’ve been sponsored by the Marlboro Man.”

You shook your head and glared at him. “She’s getting really bad now.”

“Yeah, I know. You weren’t the only one they called asking for money,” he said. He quieted in contemplation.

Despite his attitude, you knew he was hurting. This was just how he dealt with pain—by pretending he didn’t feel it.

Chris eventually sighed, relenting a little as he grabbed your shoulder. “Sorry. I know it’s always been harder on you. I just…they want to pretend like all that other shit never happened, you know?”

You nodded, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond. You didn’t have the energy to get into all that other shit. Not today.

After you said your goodbyes to your family, you steeled yourself and ventured back up to the penthouse floor. This time when you knocked on Ben’s door, he was properly clothed, now out of his supe suit and wearing a nice shirt tucked into some dark brown slacks. He was halfway to putting on a pale gold Rolex.

He must be going out, you thought.

“Two visits in one day? Boy, do I feel fuckin’ special,” Ben remarked. He offered you a drink, and you accepted. You actually needed something to calm your nerves.

He led you into the living room and made you a vodka soda upon your request. He poured a glass of bourbon for himself. You slipped a finger around the rim of your glass, and you met his expectant gaze.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” you said, “for what you did today.”

You then smiled wryly. “I know it wasn’t without motive, but it made my nephew really happy.”

You took another sip of your drink and set it down on a ledge above the fireplace. It was your turn to look up at him expectantly.

“Okay. A deal is a deal,” you said. “One kiss. I’m sure you’ll make the most of it.”

Ben set down his own glass beside yours. He drew closer, looming over you. You almost felt the warmth of him; you certainly felt his anticipation. Or was that your own?

His head bowed, ever closer. But he stopped just shy of his lips brushing yours.

“Not just yet,” he said. He pulled back from you, making your brows furrow.  

“Not yet?” you asked incredulously.

“Just what I said, sweetheart,” he grinned.

You blinked up at him in confusion, and then in annoyance, though you tried to keep it off your face.

“Must we play this game? Just kiss me,” you said. You grasped his arms in invitation, but he slipped out of your hold.

“I don’t think so,” he said.

“But why?” you asked. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Apparently it is to you, rookie,” Ben said. He stepped back into your personal space, but you held your ground. “So I played nice, like the gentleman I am. But now, it’s gonna be my right to claim my prize when I want to.”

Your lips pursed. So he wanted to change the rules, did he?

You adopted a more magnanimous smile.

“Fine,” you said.

You grabbed your vodka soda and took another poised sip before you slipped it into his hand. Then you turned on your heel and left his apartment.

Ben watched you go with a smirk on his face. He raised his own glass back to his lips. He knew then that no matter what game you were playing at, he’d finally gotten under your skin.

AN: Ben's pressing his luck, isn't he? 😂 But I think you guys are going to like where we're going next...

(Bet you wondered why a song from Grease was on the music playlist for this series. 😉)

Next Time:

Arthur nodded. “Well, Soldier Boy agrees that you’re impressive. And he’s been chomping at the bit for something new. So, I talked to Madelyn and the rest of the team, and we think you two should do a duet together. A cover.”

You blinked a bit wider. “O-Oh, really? Of what?”

“You remember ‘You’re the One That I Want,’ by John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John?”

“From Grease?” you asked with furrowed brows. That movie was like, five years old already. But you did see the previews for a new movie John and Olivia just did together, Two of a Kind. It was set to come out later this year.

“Exactly,” Arthur said, pointing at you. “It could be bigger than the movie!”

You doubted that, but it was still a great opportunity for you. The exact kind you'd been waiting for. There was just one problem.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 4

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[milliesfishes]

Omg I could really use some PK coryo angst from you, every time you write an angsty snippet about him I die 😭 PK coryo is something else

꣑ৎ౨ৎThe Bodyguard꣑ৎ౨ৎ

[fem reader] contains: attempted kidnapping pairing: peacekeeper coriolanus snow x fem reader summary: after a scary incident, your father takes what you deem unnecessary precautions author’s note: anon I apologize for not answering this sooner but I hope this fulfills the need <3 tagging @melo-bees thank you so much for this idea lovey!! Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

Skipping through the town square, you dodged a few stray people, bestowing them large smiles and letting your bag swing as you passed through. You hummed something to yourself, basking in the sunlight. Summer was in full bloom, and you reveled in it, feeling as though you were in a whirlwind of happy things.

Maybe you shouldn't be out here by yourself. Maybe you should have told someone where you were going, like your mother or a maid or something. But it was just a quick pop into the market, to say hello to a few people and maybe get something pretty for yourself.

The arduous years of school had ended in the spring, and you'd proudly taken your diploma and hung it in a silver frame on your wall. A part of you mourned the loss of that time, knowing the innocence of those years would be pried from your hands and twisted into something worth marrying. But the other held onto the spark of youth that somehow hadn't been doused by your parent's warnings of the future.

"A young lady shouldn't wander the streets by herself." "A young lady needs protection." Given your father's prominence, there were legions of Peacekeepers at his disposal, and he'd made empty threats of putting one or more on your tail. But you waved them off. They were nothing but air.

Clasping the hands of a woman behind a vendor's stall, you squealed, bouncing on your heels. "Oh, Ember you've outdone yourself this week." The jewelry spread out across the wooden surface of the table was exquisite, metal twisting around itself, stones embedded as the tiniest of details. You held up a pair of earrings, letting the light catch the gold and emphasize the red shine of the tiny rocks nestled in the crafted design. "Would it be alright if I got these?"

"Of course, honey," she smiled, taking the coins you slipped into her hands. Counting them, she frowned and tried to pass a few back. "That's too much-"

"Really? Could've sworn you undercharged." Grinning, you swapped your old earrings out, stowing them safely in a pocket of your bag.

Ember gave you an exasperated look. "Now-"

"It's been a pleasure, I'll see you next time!" You tossed a few more coins on the table, letting them rattle and clink against each other as you broke into a run, skipping away. Ember's laugh followed you like an echo, and you smiled as you pictured her shaking her fist at you.

Your new earrings bounced against your cheeks as you ran down the alleyway and down the lush forest path, holding your skirts in both hands. It was always while running that you felt the freest. And so you did it over and over again, through the trees and streets, through every place you could think of.

With the wind on your legs, you felt liberty's sweet caress all around. It lifted the corners of your lips and practically made you levitate. If feathers sprouted from your limbs and air built up under your arms, sending you soaring into the clouds, you wouldn't have been surprised.

This could be your life. Dancing around town and supporting your friends in the way they needed you to. Nodding along to your father's requests and then turning your cheek. This was boundless, beautiful-

You smacked something firm, the force of it knocking you backwards. Shoulders hitting the dirt, your hair became a curtain over your eyes that you didn't part right away. The collision had stolen your breath, and you chased it back, finally able to grasp and shove it back into your mouth.

Blinking wearily, you swept your hair out of your eyes and got a good look at what had interrupted your joyful flee. A man, clothes tattered, face streaked with dirt. A hat shaded his eyes, but you could see the firmness in them.

An apology bubbled up, escaping your lips as you scrambled to your feet. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't watching where-"

"You're the mayor's daughter." The words were frozen like glaciers, and you lifted your lips in a sweet smile, hoping to thaw him.

"If you'll excuse me-"

His hands were gripping you tight suddenly, roughened nails leaving imprints on your skin. You gasped, wiggling in his hold and trying to squirm away. "I really...if you'd just let me go-"

"How much d'you think Daddy's gonna gimme for givin' his pretty daughter back?" The question sent snakes slithering up your spine, wrapping around your throat. The look in his eyes was haunting, hungry. You cried out, trying to reach out and push him away but he held your wrists fast, twisting one and sending a sharp pain up your arm.

It happened before you could even think. Your knee shot up like a missile, landing between the man's legs. When he shouted, releasing your arms to clutch himself, you caught a glimpse of his mouth. It was unclear whether he was missing teeth or if they were blackened by dust.

You didn't stick around to find out. Now your running had a new purpose, and you sprinted down the road, sobs moving past your lips choked and desperate. Hot tears stung your cheeks as they poured down like rain.

Fear struck you like an arrow, hitting dead center. Over and over you'd been told of people who would be out to get you solely because of the position of your birth, but never before had you witnessed it. As you reached the edge of town, darting back through the narrow alleyway and leaning on the wall to catch your breath, you shuddered involuntarily and hurriedly wiped the tears away from your face.

"Are you alright?"

A gasp clenched your breath and your head snapped up, heart pounding before you realized who stood before you. A tall man in a Peacekeeper's uniform with blue eyes like cornflowers, clutching a weapon. Your shoulders sagged in relief, and your eyes fell to the ground, foot toeing at the cobblestone. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." His voice was low and you managed to meet his eyes, holding your chin high.

Studying him, you were almost surprised at how young he appeared to be. Close to your age, surely. It was such a strange thing, to be so close in age and yet so starkly different.

"I'm fine. I'm just having a bad day," you said, wiping your eyes again. It felt humiliating to talk about what had just happened, and so you sealed your lips.

The Peacekeeper's mouth was set in a firm line, and you could tell he didn't believe you for one second. "May I walk you home?" Now you could see the flicker of recognition in his eyes, and you knew the idea of your father was bouncing around in his head. Maybe he wanted praise, or a monetary reward. The chances of him doing it out of the goodness of his heart were low.

Mustering a smile you hoped was sweet, you shook your head, clutching your bag and sidestepping him. "No thank you. I'll manage."

"You're-"

"I'm fine!" you called, already walking away. This time you clung to the shadows rather than enjoying the sunshine. Nobody else needed to see you like this.

It was embarrassing enough that a man with eyes the color of the sky you so badly wanted to soar into had.

The delicate lace of your curtains looked so pretty in the sunshine, and you clasped them in your fingers, pleased to find them warm. Lying stretched out across your bedspread, you smiled brightly, kicking one foot up into the air. The bundle of wildflowers on your nightstand was tied with a ribbon, and their sweetened scent greeted your nose.

It had been a perfect day in the forest, lying amongst the flora and fauna. You'd brought your picnic with you as usual, reading to yourself and enjoying the quiet. In the past bit you'd hardly been able to have a moment to yourself, making today all the more magical.

Since that awful day a week ago you hadn't breathed a word to anybody about what had happened, although you knew your mother suspected something was wrong when you came home with dried tear tracks staining your face like berry juice.

She'd occupied you with social visits of all kinds, to people far and wide across the town. There were only so many parlors you could sit in, so many polite smiles you could offer for so many days in a row before you went crazy.

Of course she meant well. But today was your day, and you had enjoyed it immensely.

Your father's voice pierced the quiet and you sat up when you realized he was calling for you. Swinging your legs to the side of the bed, you stood and stretched, muscles popping like bubbles. It was rare that he summoned you before dinner, and you wondered what he wanted to discuss now. If it was the prospect of another son of a wealthy acquaintance you wanted no part of it.

Making it to his office, you paused in the doorway. Had you known your father wasn't alone, maybe you would have taken the time to smooth your dress or run a brush through your hair.

Standing there in front of him was a young man in a Peacekeeper's uniform, blond hair buzzed to his scalp, hat under his arm. You shyly clung to the frame and watched them exchange words for a moment before they noticed you.

When the other man turned it hit you like a stone. Those eyes. The color of a summer sky. You were frozen for a moment, staring at him and feeling nothing except your heartbeat pounding your ribs. His gaze didn't tear away from you either, and for a moment you felt as though you were the only two people in the room.

What was he doing here?

Your father broke the tension, clearing his throat. "I'll expect you back here tomorrow."

"Yes, sir." The man tore his gaze from you and nodded at your father, shaking his extended hand. "I look forward to it."

On the way out, he paused, giving you a nod. "Miss." You tried to ignore the flutter in your chest.

It wasn't until the front door shutting announced his departure that your father spoke to you. "That was Private Snow."

"Ah." You nodded, shifting on your feet and further entering the room. "Is he going to be here more often?" Now you were imagining him standing guard with the other Peacekeepers protecting your home and family, gorgeous eyes piercing your soul every time you left the bounds.

"Yes." Your father smoothed his beard, studying you. "He'll be here for you."

Straightening, you tilted your head, brow knitting. "For me? What-?"

"For your protection." Before you could argue, he firmly said, "An incident was brought to my attention recently. Apparently, you were seen hysterical in an alley."

Your lips parted and you tried to speak, the words coming out in a pathetic stutter. "I...it was...nothing-"

He held up a hand, effectively silencing you. Your fingers found your skirt, twisting the fabric and clenching it tight as every possible excuse swam through your head. But you could see now that it would fall upon deaf ears. For every time he'd warned you, he'd finally made good on his threat.

"You've been far too careless," he began, each word with an edge like a knife. You swallowed, bowing your head as he continued. "Running around town and cavorting with whoever you want. That ends now. It's very clear you can't handle yourself."

Tears were pricking your eyes, and you suppressed a sniffle. This was humiliating, to be reprimanded by your father for something that wasn't even your fault. In a whisper, you tried, "I didn't mean to-"

A shake of his head cut you off. "Private Snow will be accompanying you from now on wherever you go. You'll have constant supervision so I don't have to deal with you every time you get yourself into something stupid. There will be no further discussion." He turned back to his desk, waving a hand and indicating your dismissal.

The walk back up to your room was slow and shameful. Frustration brimmed at the edges of you, poking and prodding at your head. Constant supervision...already you mourned the loss of your precious alone time, the freedom you had enjoyed. Now you would have a shadow trailing behind you carrying a gun.

Shutting the door, you let your tears fall freely, though no sobs parted your lips and split your soul open. You tried to convince yourself that maybe this could be okay. It wasn't like your routine would be interrupted. It only meant that he would be there.

Sniffling and drying your eyes, you took a deep breath, eyes falling on the wildflowers again. It would be okay. Everything would be okay. It was for your own safety after all.

You tried to picture it then, a prophetic vision. The man who'd looked at you in a way nobody had before, who'd awoken some strange feeling in your heart protecting you.

It stayed with you for the rest of the day, trickling into your dreams.

In Coriolanus' life, he'd been mildly interested in a great many people. Ones who could aid his journey to the top or help him play the game of the Capitol's choosing and change the rules for him. He'd been interested, is all.

But he'd never been utterly enchanted by anyone before. Not until you.

All too often he chided himself. The daughter of the mayor, the girl he was only supposed to be keeping an eye on. Really, whatever he was feeling needed to stop immediately. It was blatantly unprofessional.

And yet here he was, standing in a field under the shade of a tree and watching you use your skirt as a makeshift basket as you gathered strawberries into it. Tucked haphazardly in the crook of your arm was a messy bunch of wildflowers. Your hair was loose, taken out of the braid he'd watched your mother approve before you left the house.

You were a vision, something not meant for his hopeless eyes.

Coriolanus took every bit of his life as a Peacekeeper seriously, but this was another matter entirely. It perplexed him how much more committed he'd found himself once every aspect of his duties were steered in your direction.

He'd once felt fascination for Lucy Gray, whom he'd pulled every stop for to get her out of the arena. A girl with a voice like a songbird whose dedication to her found family had inspired him. She had been his ticket out of poverty, and he clung to it with every fiber of his being. When his methods had been unveiled, resulting in his life sentence to the military, he'd kept at his trying, attempted to bribe his way to her.

The attempt had failed, and now he was in Two, among forest confines. At least he wasn't breathing in coal dust. And now there was you.

Given strict instructions on where you were and weren't supposed to go, Coriolanus had known you would be a stubborn case. From the moment he'd recognized you in the alley he'd gotten the feeling that you were as free spirited as a bird. Your father had seemed all too happy to hand you off. Coriolanus hadn't understood why until this morning.

"It's not dangerous," you'd protested in the kitchen this morning, cutting a few slices of bread. "I go there all the time. There's nothing but trees."

"Your father said not to allow you to go past the town limits," he countered, voice firm. He felt like a giant next to you as you delicately gathered your food into the wicker basket shaped like a heart, pink linen lining the insides.

Giving him an exasperated look, you brushed a stray strand away from your face. It had been bothering him for a minute, and he'd longed to do that exact thing. "What could possibly happen if you're going to be with me the whole time?"

Huffing slightly, Coriolanus felt the beginnings of a headache twinge at his temples. A week into this endeavor and he could already tell you were going to be difficult. You fought him at every turn, pleading with him to let you go literally everywhere on the list of prohibited places.

The market on the wrong side of town. A nighttime club with live music. And now the forest, which had particularly been emphasized to him by your father.

You'd batted your eyelashes and shut the lid of the basket. "Please? You've done such a good job at keeping me safe. And it's not that deep in the forest, just a little bit of a walk."

The white dress you were wearing was edged with fine spun lace at the neckline, exposing your collarbone. He tried not to stare at it, tried not to make it so obvious that he found every angle of you beautiful.

Unhelpfully, the look you were giving him reminded him of a doe, the pretty one who pranced among snowflakes in the picture books with rich illustrations his mother used to read him. He was struck dumb for a moment, staring at you.

"Okay."

The little squeal you gave was worth it alone, along with the way you grabbed his wrist and squeezed. "Thank you!"

Now he was watching you in your element, feeling like he'd stumbled upon a nymph. Your essence trailed behind you like fairy dust.

You spotted him watching you and threw him a sweet smile, one that gnawed at the edges of his heart. He somehow found it in him to snap to his senses, boots crinkling the grass as he made his way over to you. No longer did he have to carry the enormous Peacekeeper's gun, only a small one at his hip. This was one of many perks of working directly for your family, among being moved from the base to the servant's quarters of the house, and of course, you.

Now close to you, he solemnly said, "We should head back," expecting your face to fall or for you to try and pout your way into thirty more minutes. Coriolanus had grown accustomed to your methods in very little time, as they were tried and true.

Instead, you nodded and tried to shift your flowers up the crook of your elbow. "Could you take these? I want to put the berries in my basket."

Coriolanus removed your bouquet, feeling a little silly as he watched you deposit the strawberries. The skirt of your dress was lightly stained with red juice, and he wondered if it was as sweet as you were.

You reached your hand out from where you were kneeling, about to take the flowers when you groaned, letting your arm fall. "My hair. I have to braid my hair. Hold on-" you gathered it up and let it fall behind your shoulders, clumsily separating it into three sections. Your movements were messy, the result a crooked pattern traveling down your back. Tying it off with your ribbon, you reached up once again, expecting him to hand you the bouquet.

He was staring at your hair, frowning. You re-emphasized your hand. "I can take them now-"

"Your hair doesn't look anything like how it did when we left." He studied the messy attempt, and you half smiled.

"It's fine. Nobody pays attention to that."

Coriolanus pressed his lips into a firm line. If you came back looking even slightly like you'd been in the forest, his entire position could be jeopardized. It was bad enough your skirt was stained, but that could be played off. There was no place in town you were allowed to go where you'd be able to take your hair down. Women around here always had it pinned up or pulled back in some way.

Anxiety pulsed at his heart as he imagined what would happen if you were discovered. He'd be disciplined for not following orders and sent back to the barracks, maybe even demoted. Worse, he wouldn't be allowed to be near you anymore. You, who were quickly becoming what he orbited around.

Dropping to his knees and setting your flowers to the side, he paused before he touched your ribbon. "May I?"

You raised your eyebrows. "it's not a big deal Coriolanus."

He ignored how his name sounded with your lips wrapped around it. That was something he could dwell on later, when he was staring at the ceiling and trying to fall asleep. Instead, he gave you a look. "Just let me."

Shrugging, you faced forward and nodded. He untied your ribbon, fingers unweaving the mess you'd made of your soft hair. It was pretty- tumbling down your back like a waterfall, and he savored holding it.

Coriolanus combed his fingers through it once before meticulously separating the sections. You were perfectly still, the peace of the area enveloping you both. He was lost in the task for a moment, carefully weaving the strands together.

Your soft voice lilted his ears. "How do you know how to do this?"

"My cousin used to have me braid her hair," he murmured distractedly, careful as he smoothed one section before folding it over another. "Every day before she went to school."

"Oh." The word was quiet, and he had the feeling you'd have turned around if he'd have let you. "Do you miss her?"

He was surprised by the question, swallowing and nimbly finishing the bottom half of your braid. "Yes." Nobody had asked him about his family since arriving. The closest had been when he'd filled out the Corso address on the form that directed where his pay would be sent.

Tying the silky white ribbon around the end, securing your hair in place, he cleared his throat and sat back, getting to his feet. "All done."

You lifted your eyes to him, and he was rewarded by that sweet smile again. Coriolanus held out his hand and you took it, standing up with your flowers in one hand and your basket hooked over the same arm. For a moment, your soft hand stayed in his, soft fingers wrapped around his palm. "Thank you," you breathed, meeting his gaze.

It took a moment for him to find his words. Even the mere sight of you shook him to his core. "You're welcome."

On the walk back home, you let go of his hand and he mourned its loss for a moment before you slipped your own into the crook of his elbow, eyes darting around the space. He'd noticed you do this on the walk over too, searching the space as if you were expecting something to appear from the tree line.

As you walked quietly beside him, he thought of the first day he'd seen you, with tears falling and eyes blown wide. You'd come from the forest then too, and he wondered what had scared you so badly it had lingered. You bit the inside of your cheek and took in a shaky breath.

"I'll keep you safe." The words slipped out, but he made no attempt to remedy them.

If his heart was going to spark every time you looked at him, it would be a fire in no time. You searched his eyes, squeezing his elbow. Even through his uniform shirt he could feel your hand warm from the sun. If he wanted to (and he very much did) he could count every freckle you'd gained from your time outside.

With no more than a smile and a sweetheart's demeanor, you'd ignited something so untouchable in his soul, something that almost scared him. It was untouchable, boundless. An ocean of wonder he was only beginning to set sail on.

If the boat capsized and drowned, he'd go happily.

[puppym3]

Could you maybe write a fic based off of your favorite fancam? I know it sounds like a weird suggestion but I'm curious

⌦ .｡.:*♡ "take you home tonight"

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

playboy!seungmin x fem!reader

"let’s get out of this noisy place without anyone knowing no bad intentions just wanna know you more"

synopsis: seungmin knows you from mutual friends, and he always thought you were cute but you've never interacted with him. you both were at a house party you both were invited to and once he finally grabbed your attention, he never let it go.

wc: 5.7k

warnings: MDNI 18+, playboy!seungmin, cocky!seungmin, alcohol consumption, pining, tension, confessions, seungmin knows he's hot, at least he's respectful, seungmin is a little bit of a tease, text message segments, kissing, piv, protected sex, brief oral (f rec.), fluffy, seungmin wins reader's heart over, (lmk if i missed any!)

a/n: honestly, this really confused me at first, but then it really intrigued me and i couldn't stop thinking about it. thank you anon for giving me this change to dig deeper and be more creative with my writing!! before we start the fic, i should let you guys know what my favorite fancam is!!!

it's seungmin's "my house" fancam from the 2020 SBS music awards!! you can watch it here! i think it's the way he moves in it that's just so addictive, i've probably watched it millions of times, i suggest you watch it too!

let me know in the comments what your favorite fancam is! <3 (ALSO pls pls leave suggestions in my inbox i literally love doing these)

here's the song on spotify, as well!

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

The thumping bass of the music vibrated through the walls of the house, mingling with chatter and laughter. You navigated through the crowd, holding a red solo cup filled with some concoction you barely knew the name of. It was one of those typical college house parties—loud, chaotic, and bursting with energy.

You kept on losing your friends through the crowd of drunk dancing people, and the dim lights didn't help at all. The place was huge too, either someone rented out a mansion for the night, or they just happened to own a place this huge, and also had enough money to turn this place into a club-like setting.

Relieved to have found a quieter corner in the sprawling mansion, you took a moment to catch your breath and gather your thoughts. The night had been a whirlwind so far, and you couldn't help but feel a little lost in the chaos. You sipped your drink, scanning the room for any familiar faces.

Seungmin, a familiar face from your mutual friends, spotted you from across the room, his eyes lighting up when he saw you alone. He had been trying to catch your attention all night, but every time he got close, you seemed to disappear into the crowd.

Seungmin, little did he know, you were purposefully avoiding letting him come close to you all night. You barely knew the guy, sure, but every single time you've seen him, his charms made you undeniably angry, always seeming to have a different girl attached to his side.

He's a playboy, and you didn't want to get yourself tangled up in his game, you didn't want to be used for a quick fling, no matter how sexy he was.

So you continued to evade him, making sure to keep your distance from the boy who, even though you've never had a full conversation with, you couldn't get out of your mind.

Contemplating the chaos inside, you made a conscious decision to seek some fresh air and stepped out onto the balcony, feeling the cool breeze on your face. The night was quiet out here, a stark contrast to the party inside. You took a deep breath, trying to clear your head.

After a few minutes, you felt ready to dive back into the chaos. You re-entered the mansion, weaving through the crowd once more. As you made your way back to the dance floor, your eyes landed on Seungmin.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes in exasperation at the uncanny ability of fate to always lead you to the one person you least wanted to encounter.

He was dancing in the middle of the room, his body moving effortlessly to the rhythm of the music. His hips swayed with a natural grace that was almost hypnotic. He was laughing, his face lit up with genuine joy, and for a moment, you forgot everything else about him.

You couldn't help but be mesmerized by the way his body moved, how charming he was even when nobody was watching.

For the first time, you saw him without the usual entourage of girls. It was just him, immersed in the rhythm, completely unaware of the eyes on him. The way he moved was magnetic, and despite your better judgment, you felt a pull towards him.

Before you knew it, your feet were moving, carrying you closer to the dance floor. You tried to keep your distance, but your eyes never left him. Seungmin's dance was intoxicating, and for a moment, you let yourself get lost in the sight.

Then, as if sensing your presence, Seungmin looked up and caught your gaze. His eyes locked onto yours, and a slow, confident smile spread across his face. He held out his hand, an invitation in his eyes.

You hesitated, your mind racing. Every instinct told you to turn around and walk away, to avoid the playboy who had captured your attention. But something inside you wanted to see where this moment could lead.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward, closing the distance between you and Seungmin. His smile grew as he pulled you into his arms, his hands settling on your hips. The tension between you was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife.

"Look who finally stopped running," he teased, his voice low and smooth.

You smirked, trying to keep your cool. "Look who's finally dancing solo. What happened to your other girls?"

Seungmin's smile widened, a playful glint in his eyes. "I figured they were getting in the way of something I really wanted."

You raised an eyebrow, a touch of skepticism in your voice. "And what’s that?"

"Getting to know you," he said smoothly, his fingers lightly tracing your hips as he guided you into the rhythm of the music. "I've been trying to catch your attention all night, but you keep slipping away."

You tilted your head, a smirk playing on your lips. "Maybe I was trying to avoid you on purpose."

"Really?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his tone. "And why would you want to do that?"

"Because you have a reputation," you said, your voice tinged with a mixture of defiance and curiosity. "One that doesn’t exactly scream ‘relationship material.’"

Seungmin chuckled, his grip on your hips tightening slightly. "What if I told you that my reputation is all just a show?"

"I'd call you a liar," you said, your voice teasing. "Because I've seen the way you flirt with anything in a skirt."

Seungmin spun you around, your back now pressed against his chest. His voice was low, his breath warm against your ear.

"And what if I told you that there's more to me than just a pretty face?"

You shivered, goosebumps rising on your skin. Your mind was telling you to run, to get away from the playboy who had captured your attention. But your body was telling you something else.

You leaned back into him, the heat of his body seeping through the thin fabric of your dress. "I'd say prove it," you challenged.

Seungmin's hand slid from your hip to your stomach, pulling you closer to him. "Come to my house tonight," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "I'll show you everything."

"Why should I trust you?"

"You shouldn't," he admitted. "let me earn it."

You bit your lip, your heart racing. You knew it was a bad idea, but You found it impossible to ignore the undeniable chemistry that crackled between the two of you.

Seungmin’s hand rested on your lower stomach, his touch firm yet gentle as he guided your movements with the music. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, mingling with the intensity of the night. His proposition tugged at your desires, yet caution whispered warnings in your mind, leaving you torn.

You were just about to make your decision when the song changed, the beat shifting from fast and pulsing to something slow and seductive. Seungmin's hand moved from your stomach to either side of your hips, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"Last chance to get away," he whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

With a sharp intake of breath, you turned around and pulled Seungmin closer. His body pressed against yours, and you felt your skin burning up.

"If you get any funny ideas, I'm out." You huffed, acting like you totally weren't being swooned.

The bass of the music was heavy, and the heat of the room was nearly suffocating, but nothing could compare to the electricity between you and Seungmin. You were pressed up against each other, dancing with a natural ease.

Seungmin had his hands on your waist, and you had yours around his neck. The two of you moved in sync, as if you had done this a thousand times before. It was exhilarating, and you felt as if you were flying.

Seungmin smiled, and you felt your heart flutter. You had been avoiding him all night, but now you couldn't get enough of him.

As the music shifted to a faster pace, Seungmin's hands moved to the small of your back, and you felt his body moving with yours. The two of you were practically wrapped around each other, and you couldn't help but revel in the way he made you feel.

He was dangerous, but you couldn't resist him. He was a playboy, but there was a part of you that wanted to see where things could go.

The night went on, and Seungmin's offer remained on the table. You kept your distance, but you couldn't get him out of your head. When the party started to wind down, and the crowd began to disperse, Seungmin held his hand out to you.

"So, are you coming with me?" he asked, a smile on his face.

The words were simple, but they carried weight. You looked at him, and the temptation was almost too much to resist.

You thought back to all the rumors you had heard about him, the countless girls he had charmed and seduced, but you didn't care right now.

There was something about him that drew you in, and even though you knew it was a bad idea, you couldn't say no.

"Okay," you breathed, taking his hand.

The two of you made your way out of the mansion, and Seungmin led you to his car. The night was quiet and still, and the moon was high in the sky. It was as if the world had paused, giving you a moment to breathe before diving into the unknown.

"This is it," Seungmin said, his voice low and steady.

What did he have planned? Was he planning to just invite me here like all of his other quickies and make me leave the next morning? Or was he being serious?

The questions raced through your mind as you looked up at the apartment. It was smaller than you expected it to be, and in a quiet neighborhood. You had imagined him living in a luxury high rise, but this was surprisingly humble.

Seungmin held his hand out for you, and you took it, letting him guide you up the stairs. His hand was warm and reassuring, and for a moment, you could almost forget that you were in the home of a notorious playboy.

"Make yourself comfortable," Seungmin said, his tone soft and inviting.

You blinked in surprise, 'make yourself comfortable?' You thought he would jump you the moment you stepped foot in his place. But instead, he was offering you a seat, a drink, and an ear to listen.

You couldn't remember the last time you had spent an evening with someone in such an intimate setting. Usually, if you were to go home with someone, it was because they were expecting something to happen.

But tonight, it was different.

Seungmin was patient and attentive, asking questions about your life, and listening intently to your answers.

When would he drop the facade and make a move on me?

You questioned repeatedly, feeling a growing sense of anticipation building within you.

"Are you cold?" Seungmin asked, noticing how you had unconsciously wrapped your arms around yourself.

"Um, yeah, a little," you lied, knowing full well that you were just nervous.

Seungmin slipped his jacket off, draping it over your shoulders. "There you go," he said, his voice low and smooth. "That better?" The warmth of his jacket and the smell of his cologne surrounded you, and for a moment, you couldn't find the words to speak.

"Thank you," you managed, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach. He had only given you his jacket, and yet your heart was beating like a jackhammer. You couldn't deny that you were attracted to him, and that you wanted him to keep on stripping.

But Seungmin surprised you again, by not making any move. It started agitating you, the anticipation of him not doing anything was killing you.

"Are you okay?" Seungmin asked, his voice laced with concern.

"Yes! No! I mean- I'm fine, it's just..."

"Just what?" he prompted, his voice soft and understanding.

"You're not gonna, y'know..."

"Gonna what?" he asked, a look of genuine confusion on his face.

You huffed, your cheeks red. "I mean, isn't this when you'd, like, y'know, make a move or something?"

Seungmin bursted out laughing, shaking his head. "Is that what you think this is? Me, bringing you back to my place so I can have my way with you?"

You pouted, a look of embarrassment on your face. "Isn't it? Don't you bring girls back to your apartment for this reason?"

Seungmin shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. "This is the first time I've invited any girl to my place," he admitted, "why? Did you want something to happen?"

"I- what? No, no!" you protested, but the blush on your cheeks betrayed you.

Seungmin's smile widened, and he leaned closer to you, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Are you sure about that?"

Your breath hitched in your throat, and the tension in the air was palpable. You could feel his body heat radiating off him, and the urge to close the gap between you was overwhelming.

"Y-yes, I'm sure," you stammered, but your eyes gave you away.

"Really?" he murmured, his hand brushing against your cheek.

"I mean, why did you bring me here, if not to... do things?" you asked, the curiosity getting the best of you.

Seungmin's smile faltered slightly, and he looked away, as if embarrassed. "I like you," he said quietly, "and I wanted to spend time with you, get to know you, in private."

You couldn't believe it, he didn't even try anything at all. He really did just want to spend time with you.

"You don't have to lie, you barely know me, how can you like me?" you huffed, a bit annoyed at his antics.

"Because, I don't chase, and for the first time in my life, I want to."

Your heart skipped a beat, his words catching you off guard. You looked at him, and you saw nothing but sincerity and vulnerability in his eyes.

"You like me?" you asked, disbelief and hope intermingling in your voice.

"I do," he affirmed, his gaze locked on yours. "I've been trying to talk to you for months, but you've been keeping your distance."

"I just didn't want to be another one of your conquests," you admitted, your voice soft.

"And what if I told you that I haven't slept with anyone else since I met you?" Seungmin asked, his voice laced with emotion.

You blinked, not believing what you were hearing. "You... haven't?"

"No, I haven't. I haven't wanted to," he said, his eyes holding yours.

Your heart raced, the emotions swirling within you threatening to overwhelm you. "I don't understand,"

"What's not to understand?" he asked, his voice soft and tender.

"Wouldn't liking me make you want to fuck me even more?" you challenged, trying to make sense of his words.

Seungmin sighed, running his hand through his hair. "I want more than that," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

"I want more than sex," he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. "I want more than a night."

His words pierced your heart, and you were at a loss for words. You couldn't deny the indescribable feelings he was bringing out of you.

You felt his hand cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin.

"So, do you want more?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You breathed, your voice shaking.

Seungmin's grip on your hip tightened, pulling you closer to him. You could feel his body heat, the smell of his cologne, the sound of his heartbeat. It was intoxicating.

He leaned closer, his lips barely brushing against yours. You could feel the electricity between you, the desire for more.

You didn't care about his background anymore, you didn't care if he had an uncountable amount of women before you, you wanted to be the best, the last, you wanted to be all his.

Seungmin’s breath was warm against your lips, and the intensity of the moment made your heart race even faster. You felt like you were caught in a whirlwind of emotions, and the world outside seemed to disappear. The only thing that mattered was the proximity of his lips, the warmth of his touch, and the promise of something more.

You closed the gap, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that was both tender and passionate. Seungmin responded eagerly, his hands moving to cradle your face as he deepened the kiss. It was as if he was pouring all his emotions into that single, electric contact, and you could feel every ounce of it.

The kiss was slow and exploratory, as if both of you were savoring the moment and the connection between you. Seungmin’s lips were soft and insistent, and you could taste the sweetness of his breath mingling with the lingering taste of your drink. It was a kiss that spoke of longing, of desire, and of something more profound than just physical attraction.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily, faces flushed with emotion. Seungmin’s eyes were locked onto yours, filled with a mixture of hope and vulnerability. As if it was the first time he's ever kissed in his life.

"What does this mean?" he asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

You brushed his thumb over his cheek, a smile playing on your lips. "It means that I'm done running," you murmured, your voice thick with emotion.

"And?" Seungmin prompted, his gaze intense and unwavering.

"And," you began, taking a deep breath, "I want to be more than a night with you as well."

Seungmin exhaled, a look of relief and happiness washing over his features. He pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if he was afraid to let go. You wrapped your arms around him, the feeling of his embrace enveloping you. It was as if the whole world had stopped, and it was just the two of you in that moment.

"Thank you," he breathed, his voice filled with emotion. "Thank you for giving me a chance."

You buried your face in his neck, breathing in the scent of his cologne and reveling in the feel of his body against yours. You could stay like this forever, you thought, but reality soon set in.

You reluctantly pulled back, meeting his gaze. "So, what now?" you asked, your voice laced with anticipation.

"Now," Seungmin began, a smirk spreading across his face, "Can I take you out on a date, maybe?"

You couldn't help but giggle at the hopeful expression on his face, "Of course," you replied, your heart fluttering with excitement.

"How about tomorrow?" he asked, a grin spreading across his face.

You nodded, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You couldn't believe this was happening, and part of you still wondered if it was a dream.

He leaned in and captured your lips in another but shorter kiss.

When he pulled back, you found yourself unconsciously chasing his lips, stopping when you realized what you were doing.

Seungmin smirked, and the look on his face sent a shiver down your spine.

"Are you going to keep teasing me?"

"Do you want me to?" he countered, his seductive tone back.

You playfully hit his chest, the flusteredness showing on your face.

"You were the one who told me to 'not try anything funny'." he teased, his fingers trailing over the back of your hand.

You wanted to curse at past you for setting you up like that. And at him for using it against you at this moment.

You wanted to tease him back, it wasn't fun being the only one cock-blocked.

"You can take your jacket back," you said, taking it off and handing it to him.

He looked at you, confused.

"I won't be needing it."

You brought your hands to the back of your dress, pretending to slowly unzip it.

His eyes widened and his face was red when he realized what you meant.

"Wait, so does this mean- Are you-"

"I don't know, am I?" you taunted, enjoying his reaction.

He blinked a couple of times, trying to process the situation.

"But aren't we going to date first?" he asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Dating doesn't equal fucking."

His breath hitched in his throat and he looked at you as if you were an entirely new person.

"Did I surprise you?" You said, removing your hands from the back of your dress.

He was too stunned to say anything.

"Good night, Min,"

"W-what? Are you not staying?" he asked, disappointment laced in his voice.

"We have a date tomorrow, right?"

You turned away and made your way to the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow,"

"But-"

You didn't bother to hear him out, closing the door behind you.

You were dying laughing, all the way down to the bottom of the apartment.

Suddenly you felt a buzz, a text came in from your phone.

Seungmin: I wasn't expecting that.

You: You said you wanted to chase.

Seungmin: You got me,

Seungmin: Goodnight.

Seungmin: See you tomorrow.

Seungmin: Sleep well.

Seungmin: Text me when you get home.

As you turned off your phone, a mix of excitement and anticipation lingered, and you couldn't help but wear a stupid smile on your face. You knew he had you hooked.

***

You laid in bed, Seungmin still flooded in your head. The smell of his cologne ghosted your senses and the memory of his lips on yours replayed in your mind.

"I'm so fucked,"

You eventually fell asleep, excited for tomorrow.

When you woke up the next morning, the first thing you did was reach for your phone to check your messages. It was still early, so there were no texts from Seungmin on your phone.

But someone else did message you overnight, your friend who invited you to that party.

> I heard you left with Seungmin. I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU DIDNT DO ONE-NIGHT STANDS!!!

> Did you use protection?? please tell me you used protection.

> You're not even responding...

> Oh god, what happened??

> Don't tell me you're dead, naked, and your body is in a forest somewhere???

> You're still not answering.

> At least tell me if the d was big though? Did he know how to use it?

> Wait, don't tell me, I don't want to know.

> OMG WHAT IF YOURE PREGNANT WITH HIS BABY.

You couldn't help but burst into a fit of laughter, your friend was always one for drama. You decided to leave her on read, knowing that she'll be annoyed with your lack of response.

It didn't take long for Seungmin to text you.

Seungmin: Morning,

Seungmin: Do you have any plans today?

You: Yeah, I have this really hot date in a little bit.

Seungmin: I'm jealous.

Seungmin: He should know you're mine.

You: Come pick me up, Min.

You: So you can remind me.

Seungmin: Address?

You sent Seungmin your address, excitement bubbling within you as you prepared for your date. Your heart raced with anticipation, and you found yourself fidgeting with every little detail of your outfit.

When the doorbell rang, it felt like time slowed down. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the fluttering in your chest, and swung the door open. There he was, standing on your doorstep with a charming smile and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. The sight of him sent a surge of desire through you, making you want to drag him inside and forget all the plans you had for the day.

“Hi,” he greeted, his smile widening as he held out the flowers. “I thought these would brighten your day.”

You took the bouquet, feeling your cheeks flush. “Hi. Thank you, they’re beautiful.”

Seungmin’s eyes sparkled with genuine warmth as he looked at you. “Ready for our adventure?”

You nodded, your excitement palpable as you stepped out and closed the door behind you. The day was just beginning, and you could already tell it was going to be special.

The first stop was a museum, a place you had never been before. Seungmin seemed to know all the best exhibits and shared interesting facts with you as you wandered through the halls. His enthusiasm was contagious, and you found yourself captivated by his passion for art and history.

Next, he took you to a quaint little café for lunch. The food was delicious, but what stood out the most was the way Seungmin made you feel. His attention was solely on you, and every moment was filled with easy conversation and laughter. Despite your attempts to pay for your share, he insisted on covering the bill, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he did so.

After lunch, Seungmin took you shopping. You roamed through boutique stores, trying on clothes and laughing together as he gave you his playful opinions on various outfits. His generosity was evident as he insisted on buying you a stunning dress you had your eye on, despite your protests.

As the day wound down, you returned to Seungmin’s apartment. The atmosphere shifted as you walked in, the intimate setting contrasting with the excitement of the day. Seungmin pulled out his guitar, a soft smile on his face.

“Let me show you something,” he said, settling into a cozy spot on the couch and gesturing for you to join him.

You watched in awe as he began to strum a gentle melody. His fingers moved skillfully over the strings, and his voice, smooth and heartfelt, filled the room with a beautiful song. It was a side of Seungmin you hadn’t seen before, and you were mesmerized by his talent. The way he played and sang seemed almost magical, and you found yourself lost in the music.

When he finished, you were already snuggled up next to him on the couch, a contented sigh escaping your lips. The movie playing in the background was a mere backdrop to the warmth and closeness between you. You didn’t care about the film; all your focus was on Seungmin and the comforting presence he provided.

Seungmin’s arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. His touch was gentle, and you could feel his heartbeat against your back. His voice, soft and slightly teasing, broke the silence. “Did I earn your approval?”

You turned your head slightly to look at him, a playful smile on your lips. “Hmm, I don’t know.”

He feigned concern, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked at you. “You don’t know?”

You didn’t answer him right away. Instead, you shifted your position, climbing onto his lap so that you were facing him. The move was intimate and bold.

His hands rested on your thighs, and he looked up at you with curious eyes.

You placed your hands on his shoulders and leaned in to capture his lips in a slow, passionate kiss. He eagerly reciprocated, his hands traveling to your hips.

As the kiss intensified, you could feel your arousal growing, and the ache between your legs was almost unbearable.

You ground your hips down against his, and he let out a low moan, his fingers digging into your hips.

You could feel his bulge pressing against you, and the friction of his hardness against your core was driving you crazy.

"Fuck, I need this," you breathed, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

He lifted his arms, allowing you to remove his shirt.

As soon as his shirt was off, his lips were back on yours, kissing you with an almost desperate urgency.

His hands traveled up your back, pulling at the zipper of your dress. He removed your dress and tossed it on the floor, leaving you in nothing but your bra and panties.

He looked at you, taking in the sight of your body. His gaze was filled with lust and hunger, and his touch was electric on your skin.

His lips left a scorching trail down your neck, his hands exploring every curve of your body as he planted kisses and gentle nips on your sensitive skin. You let out soft moans, his touch and kisses sending shivers down your spine, unlike any you've felt before.

He reached behind you and undid the clasp of your bra, letting it fall to the floor. His hands cupped your breasts, and he ran his thumbs over your nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

You gasped, arching your back and pressing yourself closer to him, wanting more. He obliged, his mouth capturing one of your nipples while his hand teased the other. You were panting and gasping, the pleasure was almost too much to bear.

His continued attentiveness sent waves of overwhelming sensations cascading through you, each touch and kiss a symphony of pleasure. You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, and the throbbing between your legs was growing more intense.

Descending lower, his tongue painted intricate patterns on your skin, a tantalizing journey that culminated at the edge of your lace panties. With a deliberate motion, he hooked his fingers on the elastic of your panties, easing them down your legs with a gentle tug, baring you completely to his heated gaze.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his gaze full of desire.

With a tender push, he guided you down onto the plush couch, settling himself between your parted legs. His tongue ran up your inner thigh, making you shiver.

When his tongue reached your core, you couldn't help but moan, the pleasure was almost too much.

"You're so wet," he said, his eyes wide as he felt how slick you were for him.

He went back, his tongue swirled around your clit, taking his time to taste you, and the sensation was so intense that you could barely think straight.

"You taste so good," he groaned, his tongue plunging inside of you.

You cried out, your fingers gripping his hair. You could feel the heat coiling in the pit of your stomach.

"Seungmin, please," you begged, the need to release was growing more and more unbearable.

He pulled back, his fingers rubbing your clit, "What is it, baby?" he asked, his eyes scanning your face.

"I need you inside of me," you gasped, the sensation of his fingers on your clit was sending you over the edge.

He smiled, the look on his face making you even more desperate for him.

He leaned down and captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue dancing with yours. You savored the taste of yourself on his lips, finding it to be the most tantalizing and erotic sensation you had ever encountered.

As he continued to kiss you, his fingers worked their magic on your clit, and the heat and pressure building in the pit of your stomach was becoming too much to handle.

You could feel the tension daring to snap, until his fingers retreated, leaving you feeling empty.

"Why did you stop?" you pouted, your hips bucking against him.

"Because, you're going to cum on me." he teased, his tone seductive and teasing.

He undid his pants, grabbing a condom out of his back pocket before throwing it to the side, along with his boxers, revealing his cock.

Your eyes widened, taking in the sight of his size, he looked delicious.

He looked so sexy as he rolled on the condom and discarded the packaging, and you couldn't wait for him to fill you.

"Ready?" he asked, lining himself up at your entrance.

You nodded, the anticipation was almost too much to bear.

"Yes," you breathed, the need for him was almost overwhelming.

With that, he slowly entered you, stretching and filling you like no one ever had before. He moaned little curses, the sensation of being inside you was driving him crazy.

You whimpered, the feeling of him filling you was unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. He felt so good, and the pleasure was almost unbearable.

"Oh my god, Min, you feel so good," you gasped, your nails digging into his back.

He started thrusting in and out, the friction of his cock against your walls was sending sparks of pleasure throughout your entire body.

A guttural moan escaped your lips as the feeling of him moving inside you rendered your mind a haze of pure pleasure and ecstasy.

You felt like your brain was being reduced to mush, the pleasure was so intense, and his cock felt so good inside you, rubbing against your walls in ways you've never experienced before.

You arched your back, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor, feeling the tension build up in your core. The room was filled with the sound of your moans mixing with his, the heat between you both rising to an unbearable level. Every touch, every movement, every sensation was heightened in that moment, making you feel alive in a way you had never felt before.

The tension snapped, and you felt the heat and pleasure crashing over you, sending waves of ecstasy through your entire body. You cried out, the feeling was too intense, and the pleasure was almost overwhelming.

"Oh my god," you moaned, your nails raking across his back as the orgasm tore through you, rendering you a shaking, quivering mess.

He cursed in response, feeling your walls clench around him and your orgasm washing over him. The pleasure was too much, and the feeling of your walls pulsating around him was sending him over the edge.

He came undone after you, the pleasure crashing over him, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he rode out the waves of pleasure, the sensation too intense.

You held each other close, basking in the afterglow of your orgasms.

After a few minutes, he lifted his head, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

"Did I meet the qualifications?" he murmured, his eyes shining with affection.

"More than qualified," you sighed, returning the kiss with a lazy smile.

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

taglist: @loverbangchan, @reignessance

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

chapter one:

<next chapter>

➴ chapter warnings: shitty mom.

➴ word count: 2.6k

💌 from me to you: and finally, the first chapter of TYPA is here. i wanted to post this only when i had at least the first five chapters ready so you guys wouldn’t wait too long for updates, so thank u all for waiting. again, i cannot stress this enough: read the story’s warnings before reading the story!!! aaand i love u all!!! (also thank u for 200+ followers? insane!)

౨ৎ

2024, MARCH

YOUR ALARM went off at half past five, and you grunted, smacking it with your right hand, trying to make it stop yelling.

After you turned it off, you laid your bed on your pillow again, sighing. Turning your head to the side, you watched as Bella snored like she paid all of your bills and worked a nine to five everyday. You smiled, happy to see her so relaxed.

You got up, put on your slippers and walked to your bathroom, turning on the lights and regretting immediately after, because your eyes took a long time to adjust to the bright, white light.

You opened the tap, putting in warm water and gently wetting your face, before closing it and grabbing your cleanser and starting your morning skincare routine.

Even though you loved to stay in bed, there was something about the early hours of the day. You could go on with your morning with no one bothering you, just working on the steps of completing your morning routine with ease, while the world was still asleep outside— even though Los Angeles never got entirely asleep.

You can wash your face and apply your moisturizer, before stepping in the shower after letting your skin absorb the products. Then, you can scrub your body and exfoliate it, humming to this week’s top song on Spotify charts. You can dry yourself with your fluffiest towel, smear your skin with your favorite vanilla scented body lotion and perfume.

Then, you can wake Bella up, and force her to leave your bed so you can make it. She’ll growl and bark at you, but in the end she’ll be too eager to go outside to do anything else.

You’ll change into your outfit of the day, something cozy, and grab your keys before leaving the house with Bella by your side, taking her to the dog park your apartment complex has, and let her enjoy the synthetic grass while you stare at her, smiling from ear to ear.

You’ll both stay there for ten minutes, with you talking to her about everything and anything, while she sniffs around the place and answers your yapping with occasional barks.

Then, you’ll call her name and go back to your place, starving for food. You’ll make your breakfast, nothing too heavy— a cup of green tea and a yogurt bowl.

You’ll leave your house at sometime around seven a.m., after grabbing everything you’ll need for the day and saying goodbye to Bella, telling her that her dog sitter, Carly, will be there in just a few hours. You’ll get into the car your agency sent to you, greeting the driver and sitting in the back, checking the texts on your phone. And then, you will feel your heart stop inside your chest, because—

What the hell does she want? You thought, squeezing your phone so hard between your hands that, for a second, you thought you’d actually break it.

You haven’t seen your mom in a year. Or your family, for that matter. Your parents, your brother and Canada felt just like a distant, hurtful memory that you wanted to keep away from yourself, buried deep inside your heart.

After making your teenage years feel like hell, and after making you hate yourself in more ways you’d ever think possible, your mom got you signed at the most prestigious modeling agency in all LA, IMG Models. Some people online talked about how you were only the cover of last year’s VOGUE because you’re basically a Nepo Baby, and even though your social media team did their best to debunk those comments, you knew— everyone did— that they were right: you only reached the top that fast because you are the daughter of the editor-in-chief of Fashion and retired model, Jessica Carter.

Not that you weren’t pretty, no, you were. But your last name opened more doors for you than your face and body ever would.

But at the end, you were grateful to be living a normal life— as normal as it could get— away from Canada. That country held painful memories and people that you would much rather watch from afar.

You didn’t reply to her text, you didn’t need to. She made it very clear that your attendance wasn’t an option. Even at twenty-two years old, your mom would always have the final word.

You arrived on set ten minutes after reading that text, sad to have your good mood ruined. But you still had a long day of work ahead of you, so you should just do what you’re best at: pretending you’re fine.

You spent your entire morning at a photoshoot for Elle, posing for infinite pictures and changing as fast as you could, while trying your hardest not to focus on your mom’s text.

Glad to be working with people who were actually nice, you slipped into your work headspace and when you checked your phone again, it was lunch time.

Grabbing the biggest salad from the agency’s restaurant, you ate with no hunger or pleasure. Thinking of your life back in Canada made you sick.

After lunch, you were sent to another location so they could take more pictures of you, the photographer, Garret, making sure to get the right photos of you.

At six, you were ready to head back to home, but unfortunately, part of your job meant interacting with people on social media. Sometimes answering questions online, making TikToks or even posting on Instagram.

౨ৎ

liked by gigihadid, champagnepapi, darianka and 560,929 others.

madisoncarter @britishvogue 🧸

View all 12,082 comments

user1 she’s just so pretty i cant

user2 looked at my gf and sighed

user3 user4 this yo boyfriend?

user4 user3 EX boyfriend now.

britishvogue Stunning 🤩

imgmodels you never disappoint bbg 😌

user5 i love u thank u for blessing my feed

౨ৎ

“ARE YOU leaving already, darlin’?”

Nicholas’ voice echoed as you bend over to grab your purse.

Looking at him, you smiled, tiredly. “Yes, hum. Actually, I need to talk to you about something,” you took a step further, stopping in front of the man you've known as your boss the past four years.

“Yeah, go ahead.” He leaned against the wall, waiting.

“I need to have Friday off,” you started, biting your lip. “It’s a family thing. Promise I’ll be back on Monday.”

“Madison, you’re literally the only model here who hasn’t missed a work day for an entire year, maybe even more than that,” he laughs, blond hair moving as his head turns around. “If you want to take the entire week off, you’re allowed to.”

A week in Toronto? No, thank you.

“No, I just need Friday.” You replied, adjusting your bag on your shoulder.

“You’re free to go, my love. Send kisses to your mom, okay? Tell her to visit us sometime.”

“Of course, thank you.” You kissed his cheek quickly before heading back to the elevator.

On your way home, you thought about all of the things your mom might want of you. Sure, she said that she wanted the family to get together and all of that, but you’re sure there’s more to that. She wouldn’t make you fly to Canada just because she wants to have dinner with you. She’s just not that kind of person.

Entering your apartment, the first thing you did after removing your shoes was go looking for Bella, who had somehow managed to lock herself inside the guest's bathroom, and was whining loudly.

“Naughty, naughty girl,” you kissed her, petting her fur gently. “How did you even do that?”

She just licked you and you sighed, the long hours of work finally hitting you completely. You just needed to shower, drink your daily glass of warm milk and play with Bella for a while before going to bed.

Locking away all thoughts related to Canada, you followed your night routine like you’d usually do, trying your hardest to let the people you buried years ago stay away like you wanted them to.

[floofeh-purpi]

Getting isekai'd?! (Part 5)

Sagau! Genshin Fatui x Gn! Reader (ft. Your bsf)

『Beloved fluffball/s mentioned below! 💜』

@justmare @mc-cos-charm

☆

Warnings: Your bsf's a gremlin and a simp for u, swearing, grammatical/spelling errors, ooc 🤠👈, oh shit I accidentally posted this unfinished uhmmm if u saw this not cooked yet no u didnt, you being a bit of a sassy little shit, mentions of your vitiligo A G A I N, your bsf almost getting caught have feelings for you by uhm... you, I FORGOT YOUR DOG EXISTED IN PROBABLY THE LAST 2 CHAPTERS IM SORRY, you and ur bsf being a duo, my shitty attempts at making you laugh

【Part 4】

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆

"In their eyes, you are sweeter than honey. Your smile more radiant than the shine of the golden sun. Your eyes reflecting the light like precious stars in the night sky. The marks of Vitiligo on your skin like a celestial map that is to be cherished." By their I meant the harbingers and pretty much everyone in Teyvat. Also guys I tried my best on this part pls forgive me. 😔🙌

★

"Finally those people left." Y/b/f/n thought before happily skipping their way into the 2nd floor and into your room because I imagined their the type to do this shit💀🤚 totally because they defenitely didnt wanna hang out mess with you.

☆

"N/nnnnn?" Your bsf called out your name before pouting when you weren't there. "Wharrr?" You sassily replied back before coming out of the bathroom. "Oh there you areeee, can we play together pleaseee~ 🥺👉👈" Y/b/f/n pleaded, you couldnt help but laugh. You just had to. Like bro look at them, they look like a puppy (you meant that affectionately). "Of course why not." Little do you know, you practically accepted having an e-date with your bsf. But you didnt need to know about that now do you? ;)

☆

"That divine presence we felt with their roomate...–" The Regrator putted his hand on his in a thinking position.

"We cannot be certain that it is our Holiness until we see their blood..." Dottore rudely cutted him off. "Now where the fuck is my funding."

"Bitch stfu I literally gave you your funding 5 hours ago. 💀🤚"

"Harbingers, return to your duties. For we still yet have to confirm if our Holiness has truly descended into Teyvat." The harbingers immediatly straightened up their backs as the Cryo Archon's serious tone.

"Yes your Majesty."

☆

You found yourself playing Minecraft yet you still didnt buy the spotify fucking premium with your y/b/f/n on the computer. Sounds of you cursing agressively in tagalog and bisaya could be heard from your best friend's room get them ear theraphy 😔 "PUTANG INA IM OVER HERE 👹" You screamed over your mic to your bestfriend, whose blocky character was going the opposite way of where you are. "Sorry teh/kol! 😰" Yes your friend is scared shitless of you being like this, but they know you're just being... well, you. "Damn it your lucky I love you...–" Y/b/f/n accidentally out loud in which you fortunately didnt hear. "Ha?"

"Hatdog."

"Litse."

"LeTs SeE! 😍"

Before you could affectionately say another curse word you suddenly heard something scratching your door. "Wait, afk-" you said to you bestie 4 life before removing your chunky ass headphones and opened the door.

"Awwww is my big baby in need of attention again???" You cooed while giving him/her belly scratches, the husky's tail wagging happily at the affection he/she's recieving.

After 30 minutes of you scratching d/n you finally stood up from your crouching position, with d/n whining at the lack of hand on his/her belly but stood up and following you.

You sat down on your gaming chair and picked up d/n and sat her/him on your lap. Happily while wagging her/his. You then putted back your headphones.

"Yo, back."

"Bro what the fuck took you so longgggg" Y/b/f/n's avatar ran around you in circles.

"Yati ka shut the fuck up d/n wanted to sit on my lap."

"Lucky dog..."

"What?"

"Nothang.... 😰" Your best friend said before you went back to your usual self. Again.

☆

The tsaritsa was in her palace's library. Searching for books about the signs for you returning to teyvat once again.

No.

No.

Wait "You x reader" books fucking exist?! She's so keeping the book.

Until she finally found a book that seemed actually legit. "Istg if this also isnt the one..." The Cryo Archon rolled her eyes in her head before she flipped open the book.

☆

YAYAYAYAYA DONE WITH PART 5! :D

【Part 6】

Published: July 1 2024. 8:02pm.

[copper-16]

For those lovely people who read Do You See Something I Can’t?…Chapter 8 will be posted tomorrow (June 2nd), at 1pm EST!

We’ve got 5 chapters, 57k words in total, and a schedule (because I am nothing without my schedule!) Since the chapters are a little on the longer side, I want to give everyone ample time to fully read. So, the plan is that there will be a new chapter every 3 days, so the whole thing will be posted over the span of a little over 2 weeks. 

I totally understand how it can be hard to follow a story when there are long gaps in between chapter being posted, so I hope this is easier to follow along and engage with, by writing everything ahead and posting in a streamline manner. We shall see if this makes it better for you guys as readers, I’m curious as to your feedback! Regardless I want people to enjoy reading it, and if that happens then I am a happy camper, above all else. 

Spotify Playlist for the second half can be found here!

For everyone who is still reading this long ass announcement and have gotten themselves all caught up if they wish, here is the first part of Chapter 8 before it is posted tomorrow 🩵

Ingrid stared down at her phone, shifting nervously in her seat. Mapi sat across from her, the Spaniard’s hands folded on the table in front of her, as she watched the Norwegian closely. 

The dark haired woman sat up more, swallowing roughly. There were a million thoughts going through her head, and she looked up at the brunette with a slightly panicked expression. 

“What if I just went back?” Ingrid asked in a panic, and Mapi tilted her head to the side, her eyebrows furrowing. 

“Do you actually want to? Or are you simply scared to make this call?” She asked gently, and the full back allowed herself to slouch slightly under the intensity of her—girlfriend? Friend? Person who professed their love to her less than 12 hours ago, and hasn’t had time to put a label on it yet? 

She allows herself to slouch slightly under the intensity of her…of her…of Mapi’s gaze, feeling a bubble of shame rise up in her. The Spaniard is quick to stand, walking around the table to take a seat next to Ingrid as opposed to across from her. 

“I am not asking to make you feel bad,” Mapi reminds gently, gesturing to the phone. “But I know you do not want to go back there, and that you are scared to put your foot down. You need to though, and I promise you will get through it. I will be right here,” she continued, and Ingrid looked over at her skeptically. 

It was such a strange jump, the last twelve hours. Ingrid had returned to Barcelona to pack up her apartment to move, and had almost finished doing just that. There were boxes littered everywhere in her apartment, a fact that Mapi had yet to comment on. 

Instead, they remained where they were at the table as the sun rose in the sky, and Ingrid worked up the courage to call her manager back and explain that she was not going back to Wolfsburg. 

The Norwegian picked her phone up finally, pressing the contact for her manager before she held it up to her ear. Her foot tapped anxiously below her, a reminder of the anxiety coursing through her body even as Mapi sat beside her, looking at her with encouragement. 

“Hello Ingrid!” Thomas said cheerfully into the phone, and Ingrid opened her mouth to speak before she coughed abruptly, which kick started her into speaking.

“H-hi Thomas!” She replied, her voice thready and nervous, an octave too high. If her plan had been to play it cool, she would have been failing miserably. Luckily, her only goal was to get through the phone call in one piece. 

“Is everything alright?” Thomas asked quickly, concern laced into her tone. 

“Yes, yes, everything is okay. I just need to talk to you about something,” Ingrid choked out, even as she felt like her throat might close up. Her free hand lashed out, clamping down on the center back’s thigh with a forcefield of anxiety. 

The brunette, however, didn’t miss a beat, simply peeling the Norwegian’s hand away from her thigh and lacing their fingers together, squeezing softly. Ingrid gripped her hand tightly, and the Spaniard could feel the shake of the full back’s hand in hers. 

“Okay, what did you need to discuss?” Thomas asked, sounding diplomatic. Ingrid took a large breath in, slowly letting it out before responding. 

“I am going to stay at Barcelona. I will not be accepting Wolfsburg’s offer,” The dark haired woman managed to get out, hoping that she sounded more confident than she felt. Mapi’s thumb was very lightly trailing back and forth over the back of her palm, and she reminded herself very gently to relax her shoulders. 

“You—what?” Her agent spluttered out, clearly caught off guard. 

“I want to stay here, in Barcelona. Tell Wolfsburg I reject,” Ingrid repeated, her voice more secure this time. 

“Ingrid, you would be insane to reject their offer! It is one of the most lucrative deals I’ve had come across my desk for a female footballer, you’d be in the top 5% of paid female footballers. Hell, you’ve already told them you’d accept!” Thomas implored, his voice edging on panic. 

He had promised Wolfsburg that this deal would go through, that Ingrid would accept. She had always listened to him, she had always been easily manipulated when necessary. 

“I gave them a verbal agreement, but no contract was signed. I don’t…I don’t care about the money. Get me more brand deals or something, I want to stay in Barcelona,” Ingrid repeated, standing up for herself as Mapi watched on, growing more nervous as the conversation continued. She couldn’t hear what Ingrid’s manager was saying, but she could tell that he wasn’t responding with a super positive tone. 

“Ingrid, as your manager, I cannot let you do this. You need to get your head on straight,” Thomas replied harshly, and the full back straightened, her nerves washed away and replaced with something akin to anger. 

“My head is perfectly straight,” if it were not for the seriousness of the situation, both women might have laughed at the falseness of this statement, considering the Norwegian’s sexuality. “I am staying in Barcelona.” 

“You’ve told Wolfsburg you’d be there!” Thomas cried, though it wasn’t really true. She had agreed to the deal, sure, but she had never signed anything. She wasn’t obligated to them, she only was because Thomas had tried to make her obligated to them because he knew it would earn himself more money.

“No, you told Wolfsburg I would be there. And why the hell are you pressuring me so heavily? You are supposed to be on my side, not theirs!” Ingrid accused, and Mapi resisted the urge to flinch at the return of the woman she had become acutely used to in the last six months. 

“I am on your side, it’s just that—” Thomas tried, but the dark haired woman was quick to cut him off before he could really even begin. 

“No, you’re not, if you’re trying this hard to push me into something I clearly do not want. I’m staying, that is the end of the discussion!” Ingrid cried, removing the phone from her ear and slamming her finger down onto the ‘end call’ button. 

The Norwegian’s phone clattered onto the table as she breathed heavily, a fraught silence descending between them. 

The brunette was holding her breath, unsure of what was going to happen. Ingrid had been upset on the phone, she had been angry. 

Would it translate into anger toward Mapi? That is how it had always been, but the Spaniard wasn’t sure if that would persist or not. She knew Ingrid was capable of change, but she was unsure if something as triggering as this could lead to anything resembling softness. 

What’s going to happen? Well…you’ll have to tune in to find out! 

[akookminsupporter]

THIS IS FOR THE HATERS, FOR KPOPPIES, FOR THE SOLO STANS AND FOR THE FUCKING OT6.

If you want to leave after this post, be my fucking guest.

FUCK YOU ALL. GO TO THE FUCKING HELL YOU CAME FROM. YOU BUNCH OF ENVIOUS, TALENTLESS ASSHOLES. ROT IN HELL.

I think that pretty much sums up how I feel. I'm sick of it. I'm fucking sick of the treatment Jimin gets online from a bunch of envious, selfish, stupid people who can't stand the fact that Jimin is bigger than all their fucking favs combined. Yes, I said it and I stand by it.

I don't know what the point of this post is, at the moment I just want to vent and try to put into words the frustration, anger and sadness I feel.

When it was announced that Jimin would be releasing his first solo EP many of us braced ourselves for what was to come. What was meant to be a moment of complete happiness also turned into something we dreaded. Many of us knew that it wouldn't be easy, that many would doubt, criticise and attack Jimin even for the way he holds the microphone, but as always, reality overcame fiction.

When the agency announced the schedule of activities on the road to the release of the album, the problems started, but at that time, the problems were purely internal.

Solo stans and OT6 started to complain, to accuse of favouritism and injustice. They complained that the releases of JIB, The Astronaut and Indigo were unfair, conveniently forgetting everything the guys did during their releases, but the fact that Jimin decided to make a more typical BTS schedule, shall we say, didn't sit well with them.

As more information came out about Jimin's solo moves, more complaints were heard from sectors of the fandom or social media, mainly Twitter to no one's surprise. Even though deep down it was all fear, Park Jimin was coming and they knew he would take the industry by storm.

The closer it got to D-Day, the more chaos ensued. There were complaints and accusations about Jimin-centric accounts, there were complaints about donations and much more. The fact that other members put out content during all that time somehow made everything even tenser.

Amidst all the chaos, discussions and so on, millions of us were excited because we knew that what was to come was going to be big.

I think I've said it several times in this blog but I've always believed that Jimin and Jungkook have the potential to have a huge solo careers. They are mainly always breaking records and setting new ones. They have something else, that makes them successful, by this, I don't mean that other members won't be because they have already proven that they are, they have achieved almost everything as BTS and it is obvious they will do the same as solo artists! But Jimin and Jungkook are different. Their popularity in the charts proves it and their popularity with the locals or the general public too and I know that's what scares a lot of people. 

Finally, the wait was over and Set Me Free Pt. 2 came out. That song and that MV wasn't something we expected, but it was something we needed and it was what it took to make the haters, kpoppies, Solo stans and OT6 tremble. If this is what the re-release was like, what would the album be like?

SMFPT2 came in breaking records. Fans and Locals loved the song and the MV. We were all surprised, but at the same time proud that Jimin was showing the world what kind of artist he is and what he can do. For a long time, many talked about his duality, now it was time to talk about his versatility as an artist.

And then the album arrived.

When the album FACE has finally released the fandom responded as it should. Support was seen from day one, or at least support from those who mattered. The OT6 and the Solos Stans kept complaining, but their bullshit was buried by the emotion, love and pride we all felt for Jimin. But after that, a bigger enemy showed its face: The industry.

The problems have been the same ones BTS has always encountered: Hanteo, Spotify, YouTube and bloody kpoppies.

What happened with the 3 companies mentioned above is ridiculous. What's still going on with those companies is stupid and it's all happening in broad daylight without anyone other than the fandom saying anything is insane. BTS is indisputably the biggest music group in the world, but still, the industry feels apathy about them. Still, the industry is afraid to see them succeed. Whether as a group or as solo artists.

Jimin particularly generates fear in all of them because he is extremely popular... with the general public and that is something that many don't dare to acknowledge. Jimin not only has ARMY as fans, he also has the power to attract fans from the general public. Jimin showed that he has the talent to break down barriers and that scares a lot of fans because their favs are not capable of that. And that is precisely the problem.

Jimin is a person who works quietly but shows loud results. And that scares a lot of people. All the hate we are seeing against him on the net is nothing but fear and envy. Park Jimin is here to stay.

The accusations of payola and favouritism came back with a vengeance. Criticisms of his talent and attempts to oti7ify his achievements and his work have come out like hotcakes from all sides. The anger and envy of many have been shamefully evident and the lower they all fall, the higher Jimin goes.

Finally, what has happened in the last few days with kpoppies is despicable but not entirely surprising. Before they had to fight with only one group, now they have to fight with 7 individual artists. They were angrier with Jimin because he is breaking all the records. Because he is everywhere and because the people, the general public, love him. And because Jimin's mere existence annoys them and that goes for OT6 and Solo stans too. Jimin is not perfect, but hell, he has the merits to be.

Jimin will continue to win, he will continue to break records, he will continue to sign lucrative contracts and if we're lucky, he will continue to give us great music and while Jimin does all that, his haters will continue to be a bunch of pathetic, envious people whose only aspiration is for someone to Like and comment on one of their stupid posts.

The chances of breaking more records on Billboard are scary but hopeful. Whatever the outcome Jimin worked very hard for his album. He trusted us with his thoughts and emotions and we will always be grateful for that. The effort that the fandom has made all these days is admirable, the fight that the US and Puerto Rican fans have put up is incredible and we hope to see the reward soon.

I understand that it's frustrating, this post started with me writing my frustration, but I also understand that karma is real and that Jimin's karma, bts karma is powerful. And although it is infuriating and sometimes discouraging, we must always remember that there is a person in Korea, in the city of Seoul who understands us.

[sailorsenshishitposter]

Otacon x Reader

Warning

Highly cursed at the halfway point. Spoilers for End of Evangelion and I wouldn't recommend that sane people watch it just to try to understand what the hell is going on. Yes there are parts where people turn into orange liquid followed by screams and upbeat happy music about suicide. Also do not look up the hospital scene for this movie (which it is infamous for). You have been warned.

_______________________________________

Otacon

Your smash main is Snake, you're a weeb or you fall in love easily and are used to being hurt by others.

First Date:

None. This man is busy raising a child with Snake.

Second Try:

The two of you meet on a fan board and quickly exchange numbers. Soon he invites you over to his house for a date. You asked where he lived but he said he would prefer to pick you up. You wait outside until you feel what seems to be an earthquake. You go to run but then you look into the sky. "IS THAT A GIANT ROBOT!" The "vehicle" pulls up and sure enough, Otacon is waiting for you. "Good evening. You look wonderful..." He then handed you a bouquet of flowers and you came inside.

Man, he really was an otaku. His home consisted of a bedroom that was really more like a storage space, a bathroom and a kitchen. "Make yourself comfortable, I'm going to bring some refreshments." You looked around for a spot to sit down, his room being like that one photo of Yoshihiro Togashi but notably much cleaner. The walls were stacked from the floor to the ceiling. You would have to tell your date that piracy was also an option. Most of it was just anime so you knew better than to touch it.

There was a small CRT and just about every console you could think of. Even the bad ones.At the far end of the room was a computer. You didn't really understand how that stuff worked but you figured his setup must be very expensive since all you had was Windows 95. You saw a purple creature on the desktop. "What's a bonzi buddy?

"You then noticed that Hal had come back. "I brought you a bento and some pocky. Only the best for my little waifu." He then blushed and turned the television off. "Sorry. I forgot that I was playing Policenauts on my Saturn earlier.."He then asked Alexa to play his spotify playlist which consisted of nothing but Hatsune Miku.

After you were finished eating, he took you by the hand. "Allow you to show you my prized collection." He brought you to his glass stand filled with various figures. It had a little bit of everything. Transformers, all the Gundams, some Code Geass. Even this weird one he called Zone of the Enders? "Yeah, I'm a huge fan!" He then looked around to see if the almighty Mr. Kojima was watching."

But this... This is my favorite." It was a giant build of EVA 01. "I never knew you liked Evangelion..." He then pulled out a copy of End of Evangelion. "Would you like to watch it with me? I have the renewal edition..." You gazed into his eyes and kissed him. "Wow..." He then turned on his hello kitty DVD player and inserted the disc.

The two of you started frenching during the komm susser tod sequence. You began to stroke him while the lyrics "It all returns to nothing" played. "Looks like someone's snake is solid..." He then thought to himself while the screams of those being turned into orange juice could be heard. "It's just like one of my Japanese amines!" You gave one final pull, yelling "It all CUMS TUMBLING DOWN, TUMBLING DOWN, TUMBLING DOWN"

________

Having finished, Hal shut off his VR machine. Ever since David had left him to go on a date with a woman, he hadn't felt the same. He thought back to when he asked him if love could bloom on the battlefield and then started to sob into his arm. "WHY DOES EVERYONE I LOVE LEAVE ME!?" Little did Snake know but Otacon had created a program where he could be with him in a dating sim. He would later sell it on steam and become as rich as Snake did from the fortnite cameo, bringing him into the spotlight. They would later get back together and become the ultimate power couple.

[beautifulchris]

trainwreck

pairing: choi lia x gn!reader

summary: sometimes, relationships are meant to end

genres: angst, lovers to exes!au, good ending?

wc: 1,1k

tw: lia is a bad girlfriend, swearing

notes: hello everyone! this fic is part of my collection of fics! indented are the lyrics (ignore the mentions of a dress and 'boy'), banner made by me on canva. also!! idk if you'll notice, but this one is also based on two other songs from anne-marie c: happy reading!

listen to the song for a more immersive experience: spotify link | youtube link

networks: @kflixnet @k-labels @kwritersworld @whipped-kpop-creators

permanent tag list: @soobin-chois @exfolitae @linos-catnip @prettymiye0n (tell me if you want to be added/removed)

“I can’t do this anymore.”

You meant to say this for a while now, and today was the day you finally gathered the courage to verbalize the thought.

“What do you mean?”

The words that flew past her lips were nonchalant, like she was completely relaxed. Sitting up, she had her arms and legs crossed and a seemingly emotionless face. At least, that was the face you knew she made when unimpressed.

“I mean… that I want to break up with you.”

In contrast, you were so nervous you could feel your heart hammer in your chest, and sweat was running down the sides of your face. Her reaction didn’t ease you either.

“Okay.”

Was it all you meant to her? After everything, it looked like it didn’t faze her at all. Saying you weren’t hurt would be a lie.

“Is that all you have to say?”

“What? Did you think I’d get on my knees begging you to stay? If you want to leave, go, the door’s wide open” she stated as she gestured towards the front door of her apartment. “I’ll wait for you to come back. Cause I know you will eventually. You know what? I give you two weeks at most.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Did those hostile yet detached words really left her lips effortlessly?

You grabbed your bag and left her place without delay, whispering to yourself: “I won’t.”

Choi Lia has been an important person in your life, yes.

You loved her intensely and sincerely for many months, but soon, mostly thanks to your friends, you started to acknowledge the little details. Minimal at first, but, over time, they grew bigger until you couldn’t ignore them anymore.

She’d look into your phone whenever you’d leave the room without it, subtly mock you in front of her friends, cancel numerous dates to go to parties instead, order take-away when she was aware you cooked for her…

You always put up with it because you loved her, but letting her go, albeit painful, was the best thing you could’ve done for your own health.

Called up my friends, took their advice Put on a dress, I'm out tonight I can't believe I said goodbye Oh yeah, this time you know, I finally let you go, yeah

It had been three days since you put an end to the relationship. Of course your friends would take you out on a Friday night.

The party was chill. There were around twenty people, refreshing cocktails, good background music and board games.

Lia didn’t come to mind once, much to the delight of your dear friends. 

You actually made some new acquaintances, which was nice.

Spending more time with your friends, they saw the difference in your behavior.

“You look happier, Y/N,” one of them informed you.

“You smile and laugh more, you seem more alive,” another one added.

You felt it, too. You felt free from her. Her claws. Her grip on you.

I don't know why you thought that I'd be sheddin' a tear When I'm chillin' at the party, and I'm glad you're not here And I don't know what to say, but the pain disappeared And I'm sorry Bet you think I'm a trainwreck, upset Friday night, layin' lonely in my bed Truth is, boy, I'm so fuckin' happy Without you

Life went on.

A month later, Lia was on her couch, a drink in hand. It was dark in her apartment.

“Why haven't they come back already?”

She was fidgeting, her lips pressed together and her brows furrowed.

“They should’ve been back by now.”

Her phone rang in the deafening silence, making her flinch. Her eyes widened and she laughed. “Of course, Y/N would call instead of coming unannounced.”

She answered the phone with a confident smirk, ready to hear your begging.

“I put all your stuff in a bag. Do you have a moment this week so we could trade?”

Lia’s smile disappeared as quickly as it arrived.

“Also, don’t forget to give me back the keys to my place. I feel uneasy knowing you still have them. Not like you came often, anyway.”

It was her turn to be too stunned to speak. How could you be so apathetic? It wasn’t like you to use this tone when talking to her. She stared at the wall with an open mouth.

“I’ll wait for your message, then. Hanging up.”

Before Lia could protest, the call was over. She sat there, not moving for a while, thoughts twirling in her mind.

So pour yourself another drink Sit on your couch and overthink In all your lies and arrogance, I've been alright, you know So glad you let me go, yeah

Your ex-girlfriend finally gave you a time and place to meet. Without much surprise, it was at her place. Seeing her again after so long was not as painful as you thought it would be—not as painful as Lia hoped it would be.

She had to face the fact you changed. You weren’t the easily manipulated, sweetly naive and blindly in love person anymore. Much to her dismay.

“Here,” you handed her the bag, expecting another one in return.

Instead, she took a step back and offered for you to come in. “Want something to drink?”

“No?” With furrowed brows, you crossed your arms. “Give me back my stuff, please.”

“Don’t you have anything to say to me?”

You tilted your head, tapping your chin with your free index finger. “As a matter-of-fact, no, I don’t. I just want my stuff and leave this place forever.”

“Well… I…” Not finding anything concrete to say, she sighed loudly. 

Reluctantly, she grabbed the bag from the ground behind her and put the handle on your outstretched hand, before taking hers out of your other hand.

“You don’t mind me checking, right?”

She slowly shook her head, eyes unfocused, even if you didn’t wait for her approval. The key was there, that was all you cared about. Wait, no, there was a cute outfit you forgot about, too.

You thanked her and left. She called out for you, but you didn’t turn around. “Erase my number!”

It wasn’t said with a negative tone, but Lia took it like a stab in the back. Which was really audacious coming from her.

She just couldn’t believe you left her without a second thought and didn’t come back like she was convinced you would.

And now we're at the final stop And I'm the one that's gettin' off I know you hope I'm cryin', but I'm doin' just fine

She was now part of your past. Unerasable, of course, but peaceful.

thanks for reading! feedback is always appreciated :) masterlist

[tunastime]

hiii tuna :3c how about your number 2 song for the drabbles?

hiiiiii ghost :3c here's 2! I really liked this song earlier in the year and its always reminded me of ranchers, and I'd be lying if I had flubbed a song to be number two because I listened to this song way too much. hehe anywayy ranchers <3 forgive my mobile formatting also!

(630 words)

"There oughta be a name for people like us," Jimmy says, slim fingers tracing out the bones in Tango's wrist.

"There is," Tango says. "Doomed."

Jimmy laughs—he can't help it. Tango snorts. He sets his hand on his abdomen, drumming against it.

"You're laughing at me."

Jimmy squeezes his wrist. His freckled skin is so much warmer than Jimmy's, especially in the cool, damp night. He briefly wonders if the temperature difference bothers Tango. But he makes no move away from him. He looks over at him as he winds his fingers around it, trying to catch the flicker of his pupiless eyes in the light of lanterns and the moon. Tango's hands are rough with use, but not as rough as they could be. He's not wearing his gloves today. Maybe he trusts himself not to scald his soulmate.

"Not at you," Jimmy says. "That would be so mean!"

Tango hums, unconvinced. His eyebrows raise and he finally tips his head to look at Jimmy. It's a nice face, Jimmy thinks. Well—it's a normal face, and there are nice things about it, like his smile, and the way his freckles show when he's embarrassed or excited, and the twitch of his ears when something's upset him. It's just a nice face and a very kind personality, despite what people said about being volatile and flighty and nervous and bitter. Tango was all of those things, but Jimmy was, too. Did they forget so soon that he could hold matches too?

"What, then?" Tango asks, snapping him to attention. Right. Enough about Tango. Well. Everything about Tango. He was going to kick himself later, wasn't he? Because this was all right place wrong time, and he'd never really get to know Tango like he wanted, beyond this. He runs the pad of his thumb over the raised bone in Tango's wrist and threads their fingers together. Tango shimmies his fingers to get comfortable.

"I thought it was funny when you said doomed," Jimmy eventually says, finally swallowing down the rush of want that bubbled up in his throat. Could it be so bad to want this? To want to sleep in the grass next to the warm shape Tango made? But Tango was being nice. Jimmy forgets when he laid down. Tango was out here first, staring at the sky.

"Normally, people call me names," Jimmy finishes, laughs, scrunching up his face. Tango snorts and laughs and squeezes Jimmy's hand. Oh, that's nice. "But I guess you're right, though, with doomed. I was thinking something else, but that's good."

Tango's wheezy laugh peters out as he sighs, shaking his head in the grass.

"What were you thinking?"

"Mm..." Jimmy sighs through his nose. "I'm like a dead man walking. Always felt like it."

Tango huffs. Jimmy glances over to see him shut his eyes.

"Yeah. Yeah, me too."

There's a beat of silence as they lie together, looking up at the sky. Jimmy tries to map the patterns of the stars to any known shape, fails, and huffs. Tango squeezes his hand.

"You wanna get inside?" He says. "You look cold."

Jimmy nods.

"Are you comin'?" He asks. Tango blinks, shrugging his shoulders.

"Oh..." he says. "Sure. I'll come with you."

Jimmy hauls himself up, brushing dirt from the back of his thighs and ruffling his hair. Tango stands after a beat, tail swishing behind him. He reaches out, picking a stray leaf off Jimmy's shoulder, grinning toothily at him. Jimmy meets that smile with one lopsided and wide and he can't shake the feeling of something being right. Jimmy holds out his hand for him and Tango takes it, knocking into him as they press together against the cold.

They walk inside. Tango doesn't let go of his hand.

(spotify wrapped ask meme)

[autumnshighlady]

I’ve Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 13)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: Rhys finally confronts the reader, and Nesta meets Beron.

warnings: Night Court slander, semi graphic torture

word count: 5.3k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: once again I apologize for the wait, this chapter is a long filler chapter but I promise things will ramp up again soon! x

feedback is appreciated, just no hate pls! these are just my opinions, i’m more curious to see how you all like the writing and characterization and storylines!

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / 

read on ao3

Spotify playlist

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

READER POV

Rhysand’s words washed over you like a bucket of ice. Even your very heartbeat seemed to still – all sense of time had been lost to you already, but you swore the moon itself stopped its rotation in this very moment. Your mind was clear as you felt the urge to throw up, thinking back to those looks Rhys had been giving you at the ball in the Hewn City.

His words confirmed what you had feared the most: he knew.

“What…” Your voice trailed off, shaking. Even the ache in your shoulders and wrists from the strain of the shackles disappeared at the quick rise of your panic.

“Do not think these things go about in my court unnoticed.” Rhys said coldly, his eyes gleaming with arrogance at your squirming. “I knew there was something going on between you and Nesta. I’ll give you credit, (Y/N), not even Cassian or Azriel figured it out. They failed me in that sense, but it matters not. All it took was one peek inside your friend Gwyn’s head to figure everything out.”

Rage joined the panic that was churning within you. “You had NO RIGHT to look inside her head.” You spat at the High Lord, letting every ounce of hate shine through. It made you feel sick, Rhysand knowing exactly what Gwyn had gone through yet still choosing to invade her privacy. The priestess had been violated in one of the worst ways possible, and now the High Lord who had supposedly offered her protection had violated her mind.

You thought of Gwyn’s kind face, her large teal eyes that shone when she spoke about something she was passionate about. You thought about how long it must have taken for her to smile like that after Hybern, to trust people again and open herself up. If you didn’t hate Rhysand before, you definitely did now.

“It is my court, I have every right to do as I please if it concerns the safety of my court.” He said simply, brushing off your anger like a speck of lint.

You growled. “How could you do that to her? To a priestess so afraid of the world and males like you that it took her weeks just to leave that library?”

“Well, technically it’s your fault. I tried to look into your head to get answers, but could not get in no matter how hard I tried. Same with Nesta. That’s when I began to suspect something more than just friendship between the two of you, and dear Gwyneth was my last resort.”

“I’m going to fucking kill you.” You hissed, jerking your arms as much as possible. The chains clanked loudly, a harsh sound echoing throughout the eerie quiet of the cell.

“No, you will not.” Rhysand snorted. “But it seems Nesta came to Gwyn one day about an ancient spell, trying to find more information on it and how it could be used. Dear Gwyn tried so hard to help, pouring over dusty manuscripts for hours and hours but to no avail. Until one day she came across a record of an old spell between the goddess Estelle and her lover, Jayana. According to what Gwyn found, it dates back to when ancient gods ruled across the realms. Estelle was a mother goddess, a symbol of life, while Jayana was a goddess of war and death. They were opposites, yet the two fell in love. The mother and the warrior, joined as one.

 “When war broke out between the gods, Estelle and Jayana were taken by the other side and thrown into the pits of Hel as prisoners. The goddesses knew they were likely to die, so Estelle created a spell that would bind her with Jayana. It would allow them to communicate, even when they were far apart. They could feel what the other felt, sense both every ounce of fear and love the other had. But then the slaughter began, and many of the gods within the prison were slain. Jayana was dragged from Estelle’s arms and beheaded in front of her lover. It is said that the rage of Estelle is what broke the realms apart. She absorbed the life forces of the slain gods, including Jayana, and burst out of Hel. Nobody knows what happened to her after, apparently. Gwyn’s information ended there I am afraid.”

The story began to sink in, leaving your head reeling. Nesta had mentioned that the spell was from an ancient goddess, but to know the full story brought you both comfort and unease. While Nesta hadn’t told you this new information and Rhys very well could have been lying, some part of you knew it was true. It lined up with everything you felt through the bond – the fear you felt when Nesta was pulled into the Bog of Oorid, the ache in your chest at being away from her… it all made sense. Jayana and Estelle, if they even existed in the way Rhysand described, felt real. As you pondered the story, something akin to a soft glow warmed your chest for a split second, as if the bond itself were confirming the story.

“Which takes us back to you and Nesta,” Rhysand cleared his throat and continued, a small stream of dark mist twirling around his fingertips. “You used the spell, that much I know. And you used it for communication, to plot against me and my court, did you not?”

You couldn’t help but laugh dryly, causing the High Lord to cock his head angrily.

“Did I say something funny?” He said sternly.

“Look at yourself…” You rasped, unable to stop chuckling at how blind, or willfully cruel, the male before you was. “How could we not? It was never plotting against you, Rhysand, it was about not wanting to live under your roof and indebted to you for eternity. You locked us up, just like Tamlin did with your mate.”

At the mention of Feyre, that dark mist erupted from Rhysand’s palm and clamped around your throat. It was ice cold, stinging your skin but not cutting off your air entirely. His eyes were nearly black with rage, knuckles clenched as he snarled. “Do NOT speak of her.”

“What’s wrong, don’t like to face the truth?” You croaked. “At least Tamlin did it because he thought he loved Feyre. You, no…. you did it out of hate. You wanted to control us, not protect us.”

“Wrong.” The High Lord hissed furiously. “Nesta had a choice, and she chose the House of Wind.”

“Her other option was death. That is no fair choice, Rhysand. She would have been slaughtered in the human lands for being fae and you know it. The only reason you even entertained the House of Wind was because your mate is her sister. Admit it, you wanted us both either dead or completely under your control.”

Rhysand did not say anything, only growled with pure, feral hatred. Despite the pressure around your neck, you lifted your chin triumphantly. Rhysand had many masks, stacked on top of one another so that his true self was hidden by layers and layers. But you had ripped those down, seeing the High Lord for who he truly was – a cruel, bitter male who made no move to deny his desire to control you and Nesta. He prided himself on advocating for Illyrian women, patted himself on the back for helping the traumatised females in the library. Yet at the end of the day, he did not care. He was just like every other cruel High Lord before him.

With one final snarl, Rhysand withdrew his dark mist that clung to your neck. You gulped in air as the pressure was released, lungs aching for breath by that point. Even still, you chuckled. You must have looked like a mad woman, laughing after the cruel male in front of you had just choked you to the point where you had begun to feel lightheaded. Rhysand turned his back to you, walking back to his original position in the corner of the cell. Despite still being chained, you had gotten under his skin.

But then he stopped, movements pausing as if an idea struck him. Slowly, he turned back around, all anger gone. Instead, it was replaced by a look that made fear coil in your gut instantly. It was a look of pure cunning, an evilness that promised nothing good for you.

“If I cannot get into your head, then I have other ways of bringing forth the symbol of that bond.” His voice was a purr, seductive like a cat luring in its prey. “Unless you want to show me.”

Despite the terror within you, you did your best to hold firm. “No.”

Rhysand chuckled darkly, taking a step towards you once again. “That’s fine. If my theory is correct, then it will appear if you are in danger, will it not? Cassain mentioned a glow coming from the bog water before Nesta emerged, but it wasn’t the mask that emitted it, was it?”

Your heart rose in your throat as you realised what was about to happen. The glint in those violet eyes confirmed it, and tears began to well in your eyes. “Nesta will know” You blurted out. “She’ll come here and kill you for it.”

“Oh I don’t think she will. This cell is so heavily warded it blocks the magic of your bond. It is why I am guessing you haven’t been able to feel her through it. She will know nothing of what I am about to do to you.”

“Please….” You hated begging, but all strength and defiance had left your body as survival instinct finally kicked in. “Don’t do this…”

Rhysand merely chuckled as tendrils of dark mist began to creep towards you. “Scream as loud as you want, (Y/N). Nobody is coming to save you down here.”

You whimpered in fear as the mist began swirling around your limbs, stinging slightly. You flinched as it crept up your half exposed back like the edge of ten blades.

“This is your last chance.” Rhys said lowly. “Show me the symbol of the bond, or I will make it appear.”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath to brace yourself. When you didn’t answer, it began.

Searing pain shot up your back as a dark cloud sliced against it like a sword. You gritted your teeth, determined to not scream despite the feeling of blood welling from the cut. Another tendril that had been stroking the inside of your wrist quickly shot up the inside of your arm to the nook of your elbow, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. You opened your eyes, biting your lip so hard even more of your blood spilled from your body. The High Lord was staring at you with no remorse, only coldness as his magic lashed at you like a whip.

The slices continued, and by the time they returned to your raw back, you began screaming.

ERIS POV

Eris nodded as he passed by his servants on his way to Nesta’s room, or rather his room that she had been staying in. Each servant smiled or nodded back respectfully, bringing pride to Eris’ heart. He never would have done this in the main Autumn House. No, he would have kept his chin in the air and not acknowledge the staff. His father had spies everywhere, especially amongst the servants. Eris’ autumn house was the one place where he trusted everyone within its walls.

Admittedly, he was nervous for the dinner he was presently on his way to escort Nesta to. He had done his best to prepare her, coaching her on what to say and how to respond to Beron’s prompts just as he had been taught by his mother during his childhood. She had listened attentively, soaking in every word he said. Deep down, Eris knew she would probably be fine. From what he gathered, Nesta had most likely been groomed by her mother from a young age, learning the art of appealing to the wealthy male courtiers. It was one of the few things human and fae shared, the politics of navigating snobby dinner events just like these.

But Beron was dangerous, and unpredictable. Eris did not fear that the High Lord would throw Nesta in a cell or beat her at the dinner table. No, he would do worse. He would prey on Nesta and use fear to coerce her into doing his bidding, into becoming his own personal weapon he could deploy on a whim. And then once that was done, force her to produce children bearing the Vanserra name that would hopefully carry her magic. Eris had planned a hundred different scenarios for tonight, but it was never truly enough when it came to his father.

As usual, he knocked on Nesta’s door three times, then clasped his hands behind his back as he waited for an invitation to come in. Usually Nesta’s response came within a few seconds, but he heard nothing. Eris’ brow furrowed, and he knocked once more.

“Nesta?” He called. Judging by the sound of pacing, he knew she was in there. At least she had not jumped out the window and attempted to flee.

The footsteps grew louder, and before Eris could call out again the door was pulled open to reveal a worried-looking Nesta. Stress lined her sharp features, grey eyes clouded as if her mind were elsewhere. That honey-brown hair was braided in her usual cornet, not a single strand out of place. She wore a simple red dress with long sleeves and a high neckline – Eris’ choice, a modest one that would appeal to his father but also emphasise her beauty.

Nesta looked absolutely ravishing, but Eris brushed those thoughts aside for a moment. “Nesta, what–”

Before he could finish his sentence, the female grabbed his hand and pulled him into the room, slamming the door behind him. Her hand was ice cold and clammy in a way he hadn’t felt from her before. It was not the same cold as her fire that day in the Hewn City – a powerful, dangerous cold. No, it was the icy cold of fear.

“My lady,” Eris jested, masking his own uneasiness. “If you drag me into a room like this my father will definitely be reassured that we’re trying to conceive–” “Something’s wrong.” Nesta cut him off, letting go of his hand. She continued her pacing, one hand coming to press against her chest as she steadied her breathing.

“Okay,” Eris kept his voice steady and light, despite the worry he felt. “And may I inquire as to what exactly is wrong?”

“I don’t fucking know, Eris!” Nesta practically yelled. The hand that wasn’t pressed to her chest was clenching and unclenching by her side, as if it were grasping for something. A thin layer of sweat coated her forehead, and her breathing was visibly shallow.

Eris had never particularly cared for anyone, but seeing Nesta this anxious made the fire in his bones crackle, begging to be unleashed at whatever enemy was causing this. He could practically hear the song of Nesta’s silver fire, but the Archeron appeared to be too lost in worry to hear it herself.

He resisted the urge to go to Nesta, to grab her arms and stop her pacing before it drove both of them crazy. But he did not want to corner her, make her feel obligated to accept his help in the way he wanted to give it rather than what she wanted. His every instinct protested, but he remained where he was. “Explain why you think this, then.” He said slowly. “Is it about the dinner?”

Nesta shook her head. “No. I just…. I feel so cold it almost stings. There’s this feeling in my gut telling me that something’s wrong I just…. I don’t know what. I’m worried it’s (Y/N).”

“I thought you couldn’t feel her through the bond right now.”

“I can’t, I just… goddammit Eris I don’t know how to explain it but something is happening, okay? I need to…”

Nesta turned towards the door, but Eris was quicker. He stepped aside, blocking her way. “No.” He said, guilt already gnawing at him at the look of betrayal growing in Nesta’s eyes.

“Get out of my way, Eris.” She growled, glaring up at him.

“Nesta, listen to me.” The Prince forced himself to speak calmly, choosing his words carefully. “Is this feeling you’re getting giving you any indication of where she is?”

“No, but–”

“Then there is nothing you can do. I already have spies looking for her, and if they find even a trace of a hint they will let me know. Now, unless you have some grand plan of somehow running out of the Autumn Court without my father being alerted then by all means, let me know and I’ll join you. Even then, where would you go? What would you do to find her?”

Anguish seeped into Nesta’s voice, a desperate wail creeping into her tone. “I don’t know, but I’d try something! I can’t just….” Her voice cracked and broke off, tears welling in her grey eyes. The sight chipped away at Eris’ heart, seeing such a strong female so broken down, but he quickly cupped her face in his hands.

“Do not cry, Nesta.” He said sternly. “As much as we both want to help (Y/N) right now, we cannot do that if my father smites us both into the dust for being late to dinner. He will be able to tell that you have been crying, and we cannot have that. I do not want to tell you not to weep because you are allowed to feel what you feel, but in this court, while my father reigns, we cannot let emotions cloud our judgement. Understood?”

Nesta inhaled slowly, nodding into his hands. Gods, her face was so cold.

“She refused to leave me when I was at my lowest,” Nesta’s voice was barely above a whisper, broken like shards of glass. “And she needs me now, and I’ve left her.”

Eris summoned warmth into his palms to warm her cold cheeks and add some colour to her face. “I know,” He said. “But there is nothing you can do to help her right now other than help yourself. First, we will get through this meeting with my father. One thing at a time, Lady Nesta.”

Without thinking, Eris leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Nesta’s forehead. It was like kissing an ice cube, and for a split second he feared she would rip herself from his grasp and yell at him. But even though she appeared to stiffen in surprise, Nesta did not pull away. He felt her flames sing louder, and his own calling out in response at the contact. Like calling to like, once again.

Eris looked into Nesta’s eyes. “Do not forget you are the woman who stole the power of the cauldron itself. You were brave enough to share your story at a meeting of fae High Lords you didn’t know. You were tossed into a war you had never prepared for and came out with the King of Hybern’s head. You are much stronger than you give yourself credit for, Nesta Archeron. Do not let the shadow of the Night Court take that from you.”

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

With his arm linked through hers, Eris led Nesta through the entrance into the dining hall. As they walked through the doors, the remaining traces of Nesta’s stress melted off her like snow from the branches. She did not hold her chin high with her usual confidence, but kept her head level so as not to appear too submissive, but also not too challenging. Beron was a master at playing people, and Eris only hoped that he and Nesta could keep a step ahead of him.

Beron was already seated at the head of the table, a scowl written across his aged face. In the first chair next to him down the long side of the table sat Eris’ mother, her lifeless auburn locks covering her face like a curtain. It prickled Eris’ heart how she did not turn to look at him upon his arrival. There had been a time where her eyes glowed with pride upon seeing Eris, but now those were few and far between. She still visited him, still loved him, but deep down he knew she secretly feared he was too much like Beron.

“You’re late.” Beron’s voice was cold, his eyes devoid of any positive emotions as he glared at his eldest son.

“Apologies, father.” Eris quipped, pulling Nesta’s chair out for her. “I was showing my fiancé the paintings you commissioned in the gallery.”

Beron fixed Eris a stern glare, one that warned him not to make any snide comments. Eris shrugged, taking his seat between his father and Nesta. The role he played with his father was a fine line – on one hand, he dared not challenge the High Lord lest he receive a beating. But on the other hand, he could not appear weak. Beron would expect the occasional snide remark and disrespect, like it was part of a routine. One that kept him above his brothers, for he was the only one who could remotely get away with it. His brothers, on the other hand, would be far worse off than him.

His father’s gaze switched from him to Nesta, watching the female like a hawk as she curtsied before settling into her chair. His gaze was hungry, like a predator sizing up a lump of prey for its next meal. Eris sat next to her, nerves churning. As good as Eris had gotten at predicting his father’s moves and words, this was a new situation to him. Never before had he encountered someone who his father had so desperately desired to have in his court, to control. Nesta Archeron was a new entity, even for Beron. Eris was not stupid – every fae in Prythian who had heard of Nesta wanted to know more about her, how they were fascinated by the tales of the role she played in the war. But Beron would want more, to be able to sink his claws deep into Nesta and break her into pieces and put her back together over and over again until she moulded the image he wanted.

Perhaps Beron and Rhysand aren’t too different after all. Eris sarcastically chuckled to himself mentally as he poured himself a glass of wine.

“High Lord,” Nesta faced Beron and met his gaze, then dipped her head respectfully. “Thank you for graciously having me at your table tonight.”

Eris resisted the urge to smirk at Beron’s surprised blink, apparently caught off guard given that the rumours around Nesta had claimed that she was a witch, snarky and easy to anger. But Eris knew Nesta was smart, and likely needed little instruction on how to handle Beron. She was respectful and used flattery to appeal to his ego, but held herself high enough that she would not be walked over. Her presence was strong compared to the Lady of Autumn’s – it was like she was a ghost in her own home, and despite seeing it every day, it broke Eris’ heart to see her like this.

Beron then turned to Eris, electing to ignore Nesta for now and brush her off. “So, boy,” He said gruffly. “This is the female you are to marry provided she earns my blessing?”

“Correct,” Eris said casually as a timid servant loaded up his plate with food. “I figured it was time for me to settle down after my betrothal to the Morrigan all those centuries ago was ruined.”

“That was not your decision to make, Eris.” His father growled, eyes blazing. Even though Eris had already been punished for proposing to Nesta without his father’s permission, he knew that Beron would never forget it.

But Eris only shrugged, letting his father’s anger wash over him like waves. “But it was a good decision, was it not?” He said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Call it an eye for an eye. The brutes ruined my first marriage arrangement, so I took one of theirs in return. They owed me a debt, so I finally got my Night Court bride after all.”

Beside him, Nesta said nothing. She politely ate the food in front of her, as if she weren’t the object of conversation. Her sharp cheekbones gleamed in the light of the candles around them, casting a fiery glow across her face. To avoid staring, Eris turned his gaze back to his father.

“And yet neither Rhysand was consulted on the matter either, it seems.” Beron pointed out, eyes still fuming. “You made this decision on a whim. Now I need to see if it’s worth it. I have no intention of going to war with the Night Court over a female you thought was pretty enough to be your bride.”

Before Eris could speak, his father turned to Nesta and continued. “So, girl,” He growled. “Why should I let you remain in my house for even one moment longer? I should just send you back to your High Lord in a box and be done with this mess. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.”

Nesta set her utensils down on her plate, lifting her chin and turning her head towards Beron. Eris grew nervous at how firm her gaze was, unsure of how his father would react. She straightened her spine, voice steady as she spoke.

“My lord,” Nesta said. “I apologise for my presence in your Court causing tension. Neither of us wants war, I promise. But I have essentially been a prisoner within the Night Court, confined to one of Rhysand’s houses and being forced to train as a warrior. I have no desire to fight, but I was not allowed to use my magic. I was wasting away, and Eris saw that. He said I have more potential, and I do. My mother raised me to be a courtier, and to find a good marriage and provide my husband with children. It is still my every intention to do that, and I will do whatever you ask of me if it means I have your permission to stay in Autumn. But please, High Lord, do not send me back. I have a powerful gift from the Cauldron, and Rhysand would rather see me six feet underground than allow me to use it.”

Eris wasn’t sure he was breathing as Beron sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity, staring at Nesta. On the one hand, Nesta had admitted a desire to use her magic and become stronger – something that Beron would loathe seeing any female do. But Eris could practically see the wheels turning in his father’s mind as he debated what Nesta could offer him, how he could maybe allow an exception to his misogynistic rules just this once to see what he could get out of it. His interest in the Archeron’s Cauldron-stolen powers was palpable, so Eris spoke up before Beron could think too hard and let his prejudices cloud his judgement.

“The ball at the Hewn City appears to be the first time Nesta’s magic has been used since the war,” He interjected, addressing his father. “It’s why she was out cold for so many days afterwards. I believe it would be in our best interest to let her learn how to use it and–”

“Quiet!” Beron snapped, shooting Eris a glare that would have sent most people scurrying away. “I’ve heard enough from you.”

The room was quiet for another few minutes. Nobody even dared eat, not while Beron clasped his hands together and propped his elbows on the table, staring down Nesta Archeron. To her credit, she did not flinch from his gaze. She met it evenly, a blank expression on her face that the High Lord was so clearly attempting to decipher to exploit a weakness. But Nesta was a statue, cold and frozen, mirroring Beron’s emotionless expression from earlier.

Beron finally spoke after what seemed like an eternity. “Show me.”

Nesta blinked once. “I beg your pardon, my lord?”

“Show me your powers, and I’ll decide if you’re even worth entertaining this marriage.” Beron’s tone left no room for question, as he sat back in his chair expectantly.

Nesta looked at Eris, a flicker of doubt in her eyes. He nodded, giving her the go-ahead for what they discussed earlier. Eris knew his father would want a demonstration, and they had spent over two hours preparing for what she would do when he asked for one.

Pushing her chair out from behind her, Nesta stood up. She smoothed her skirts, stepping a few feet back. Even the Lady of Autumn lifted her head to watch, concern written across her pale face. She glanced at Eris one last time, and took a deep breath while closing her eyes.

“Now.” Beron growled impatiently. “Before I decide you’re definitely not worth it and send you back to Rhysand as a pile of ash.”

A few seconds later, Nesta’s eyes opened. A silver fire glowed within them, illuminating her face. Eris tore his eyes away from her to glance at his father. Beron was leaning forward, watching Nesta like a hawk.

Nesta spread her arms slightly, palms opening to reveal a bright silver flame in each hand. It spread out, streams of it curling up her arms and weaving around her body while others pooled at her skirts.

“Mother above.” Eris’ mother whispered softly.

“Quiet.” Beron snapped at her, and she flinched.

Nesta stood there, glowing as if the moon itself had liquified and turned into flame that now danced around her body. The flames licked the air playfully, as if delighted to be let out. She remained utterly still as the silver fire quickly spread, climbing up the walls around them and engulfing the room. The guards began yelling, but a firm shout from their High Lord to not do anything made them freeze.

Like tidal waves, Nesta’s fire came gushing from her body and flooded the room. Seconds before it hit the table, Beron stood up quickly and summoned a wall of orange flame around the table, shielding himself and his family from the flames.

“Are you seriously telling me to light your dining room on fire?” Nesta had snapped earlier, shocked.

“That is exactly what I am telling you,” Eris had replied. “Very good listening skills.”

“Why the fuck do I have to do that?”

“Because if you appear to control your magic too much, Beron will see it as a threat. He is paranoid, and will immediately think you will use it against him. He has to see it in all its glory, and be threatened by it. Let your magic out however it wants, Nesta. You forget Beron is an extremely powerful male, he will be able to repel your flames for a time. But I want you to push back a bit. Not too much, just enough to let him feel the strength of your power. And then when he begins pushing really hard, let him beat you. He will not want you to stay in his court if he thinks your magic could overpower his own.”

Nesta had rolled her eyes. “So be strong, but not too strong?”

“Precisely,” Eris had smirked at her. “Dealing with my father always involves balancing on a fine line. Now let’s practice.”

As predicted, Nesta’s flames pushed against Beron’s, beginning to engulf them before he pushed back. Her flames grew higher, and Beron’s own matched hers. It was a dance of orange and silver, each one fighting to overpower the other. Eris watched in awe as his father battled Nesta’s, the High Lord’s jaw beginning to clench with effort.

But then Nesta’s flames shallowed, Beron’s immediately smothering them. The tension in his face was replaced by smugness as Nesta’s flames retreated, chased by his own. Black ash marked the floors and walls where Nesta’s fire had utterly scorched it, more and more being revealed as Nesta’s flames vanished. The second they did, Nesta staggered, panting.

Eris rushed out of his chair and wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her steady. The female was trembling slightly, her skin ice cold as Eris led her back to her chair. Beron had sat back down, already having ordered the servants to begin sweeping up the ash.

“Spectacular.” Beron murmured, his eyes ripe with hunger. His gaze did not move from Nesta, sizing her up like a piece of meat. The ambition on his face was undeniable.

“Wonderful, isn’t she?” Eris quipped, passing Nesta a glass of wine. “She gave Rhysand quite a scare with it. It was a truly wonderful scene, father. Pity you weren’t there.”

“Indeed.” Beron’s voice was far away, as if he were already lost in his own scheming thoughts. It made Eris unsettled, how quickly his father was already plotting.

The High Lord took a long sip of wine before speaking again. “You may stay in my court, Nesta Archeron, for the time being. You may train your magic with Eris, and I will reassess your abilities in a month. If you fail to impress me, I will throw you out of my court to the wolves. But if you prove useful, then I shall grant you my eldest son’s hand in marriage. Am I clear?”

Nesta nodded, but stayed silent. She still shook slightly, eyes fluttering at the exhaustion of using so much power. Beron didn’t give her a second glance as he turned to Eris.

“Do not think this is a reward for your brash actions, boy.” He hissed at his son. “If she was anyone else I’d have flayed her alive and hung her on your wall for your stupidity. But she may not be useless after all, and I want her on my side. If she complies, I will see this marriage through and you must breed her within three months of the wedding. Understood?”

Eris swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yes, father.”

Beron stood up. “Good. We are done here. Get out.”

His wife quickly stood up and followed Beron out of the room, head bowed as her dress trailed in the ash. Once they were gone, Eris gently took Nesta’s arm. “Good job,” He murmured, helping her up. “I’m proud of you. Now let’s get you out of here.”

Nesta nodded, as if her ability to speak was trampled by her exhaustion. Noting how limply she hung in his arms, Eris flung her arm around his shoulder and reached down behind her knees. He scooped her up easily, noting how worryingly light she still was. You had mentioned that Nesta had been training, and if this was her having gained muscle and meat on her bones then it sickened him to think of the state of her body before.

He wasn’t lying when he said Nesta had been wasted in the Night Court. It angered him how arrogant Rhysand was to act like he was doing her a favour by forcing her to train. There were many paths in the immortal like that did not require a sword, something Nesta clearly did not want. To force her to do so was cruel, and proved to Eris even further that Rhysand was a complete and utter asshole to the core.

Before they reached the gates leading away from the main castle, Nesta had already fallen asleep in Eris’ arms. Her breath was steady, her soft exhales calming Eris’ racing heart. The dinner had made him more nervous than he’d have cared to admit, but he could not let Nesta see that. She looked so peaceful, her thin body curled into his as she snored quietly. It was a long trek to his grounds from the castle, but he did not mind. Selfishly, he liked having Nesta in his arms. But he felt a twinge of guilt as he recalled how fondly Nesta spoke of you. He was not a blind male, he knew you loved Nesta, and Nesta loved you. There was a part of him that was jealous, for her had grown a soft spot for both you and the eldest Archeron sister.

Eris pondered how he let his life get to this point as he walked through the forest. Marrying Nesta would not be a hardship. She was beautiful, intelligent and strong, which Eris admired very much. But trying her to him would be taking her away from you. He did not know whether you were even alive, but he hoped you were, even though you would likely unintentionally cause complications down the road. Eris could get away with sneaking one female into Autumn, but two? He did not think he would get lucky twice.

But part of him felt the same urges as Nesta, to abandon everything and search for you. Not only because Nesta cared for you, but for some reason he did not want you to be alone out there, wherever you were.

The stars shone overhead as Eris was lost in his thoughts. The details of how you would fit into his arrangement with his father would have to be set aside until he knew for certain where you were. He debated telling Nesta about his research on the bond between you and her, but decided against it. He knew it would be breaking his promise, not telling her immediately what he may have discovered, but he wanted to be certain first. Nesta would punish him for it, but it was a risk worth taking.

Eventually, Eris reached the doors to his house. Nesta remained asleep as he set her down in his bed, pulling the covers over her shivering frame. The room had been heated without fire, making it nice and warm for Nesta’s shivering body. He only hoped that dress was comfortable enough to sleep in.

As Nesta nestled her head into the soft pillow, Eris gently pushed a lock of hair out of her face.

“Sleep tight, Nesta Archeron.” He murmured before leaving the room, letting her sleep in peace.

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[milliesfishes]

⋆౨ৎTender is the Night (Part Two)⋆౨ৎ

[fem reader] contains: mentions of death/dying, angst pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: fem reader x ghost billy the kid author’s note: (modern au) based partially on @goosita ghost billy au (which I've been dying for an excuse to write for) which is based on lisa frankenstein (love) Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

The threads separating life and death are gossamer, as fine as spiderwebs and nearly as breakable. It is a ragged veil that hangs over mortality, fluttering in an invisible wind and offering those encased a glimpse of the other side.

He was nearly a shadow, clinging to the edges of the graveyard, haunting without really haunting. It was as if he’d been swallowed except for the final drop left in his shape, retaining the same pain as someone breathing.

All this time he'd thought the world cruel for keeping him here with no purpose- just aimlessly wandering with nothing but his own thoughts to accompany him. He was well aware that punishment was reasonable- he hadn't exactly been a good man.

Maybe not so bad a man as he'd thought. Not if you'd come his way.

You spent your free time with him, lying side by side with him on the grassy expanse of his grave. Sometimes you brought homework or a book with you, sometimes you played music. And sometimes you abandoned all of it in favor of listening to him.

Slowly, he began to tell you about his few years on earth. Of his passage to America. Of the deaths of his family. How he was thrust into the life of an outlaw without so much as a say. You listened fascinatedly, like nobody else had. Even while he'd had a beating heart and air in his lungs he hadn't been such a point of fascination to anybody. No, he'd been simply existing, no better than his current ghostly form.

Billy felt more alive with you than he ever had when he was breathing.

“How do you think we’d have met in your time?” you murmured one day, lying on your side with your hair tumbling down over your shoulders like a waterfall.

Billy hummed, his hand half wound through a strand. "Maybe at the bar one night. I'd buy you a drink 'n we'd get to talkin'."

You giggled, leaning your cheek on your hand. "I'd have liked that."

"Me too," was his response, murmured as he watched you watch him. Suddenly the great divide between life and death didn't seem as prominent. It was such a delicate thing, yet unbreakable.

Two souls, existing in the wrong space of time. Maybe that was the reason he was made to haunt the earth so long after his supposed permanent disappearance. Maybe all these years of being lonely and feeling neglected were paid for the gift of you.

"I wasn't a good man," he confessed, tracing stars onto your arm and imagining them taking shape, leaving patterns that marked the fact that he was real to you. It was still unclear why exactly he was able to touch you now. Or why you were able to see him. But you were the common denominator. It couldn't be a coincidence that the best thing to happen to him in a century and the revelation of his existence had overlapped. "Dunno if that's been absolved...with death 'n all. But it stays with me. 's if it was yesterday."

You hummed, fingers twiddling with a blade of grass before your wrist. He knew nearly every quirk about you at this point, could read you like a map, chart the nature of what you were about to say. But he'd never deem to guess exactly what that would be. You had a way of surprising him in the best of ways. "You know...I don't believe in the idea of people being good or bad."

"Hm?" Billy blinked at you, the pads of his fingers pausing their motions on your skin.

Turning your head to face the sky, blue in all its glory with fluffy white clouds adorning the expanse of it, you let your eyelashes touch your cheek once before continuing. "People are full of a million intentions and thoughts and feelings. Not all of them can be defined. Not all of them are ever revealed. I don't think it's all measured up against us."

Billy let the quiet talk for a moment as he thought about it, the idea taking space, filling the gap more wholly than guilt ever could. His features lightened, and you smiled at the sight, moving forward and reaching for his hand. He expected your fingers to pass through his form, occupy the space inside the outline. But instead your warm palm sat atop his knuckles, making you both look up.

“Did…?” your question trailed off, as if you weren’t exactly sure what you should be asking.

“Yes.” Billy turned his palm over, letting yours touch it. He was in utter disbelief. First he could touch you and now you could touch him. Something was brightening from the inside, warming him and lighting everything up. It intensified when he looked at you, watching the way your lips parted, the wonder fill your eyes. It was like you were seeing him for the first time.

After that, it was like you couldn't keep your hands off each other. Whenever you came over you were touching him in some way; holding his hand, rubbing his arm, or his personal favorite- lying with your head on his chest. It almost made him feel like a person again, lying among the flowers with a pretty girl in his arms.

With every day, he could feel the weight of emotions he hadn't felt in decades holding him to earth, as if heaven or hell wouldn't let him in due to his love.

Due to his love.

He realized it one day as you were lazily resting with your hair spread across him, and he was thumbing your cheek. In your hands was a copy of Romeo and Juliet, one of your favorites, you'd told him. Every now and then you'd stop and read a passage to him, and he'd smile, enchanted by your love for it.

“Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night,” you recited, and he could hear your smile in your voice.

My heart didn't love until now, he thought casually. And then it hit him, a rod of lightning from the sky.

You were his sun, his moon. You were the light after centuries of darkness. You cared for him, astounded him with your sweetness, with your view of the world. This had to be the reason he could now touch you. because you were his reason for everything now.

You made him feel alive again.

Once he realized it, he felt frozen. He was a ghost in love with a living girl. Billy had never heard anything more hopeless. He felt as though he were yelling into a void. Before he had thanked the higher powers for gifting you to him, but now he was sure this was some kind of torment. Bringing the sweetest, kindest girl he'd ever known into his afterlife and making it so he couldn't have her. Was there ever a crueler thing?

You looked up at him with the most darling of smiles then, shifting on his chest and reaching up for his hand while keeping hold of the book. Billy couldn't help his smile, and he tangled his fingers with yours. An abundance of that old familiar glowing feeling warmed him again, and he disregarded all previous thoughts.

You were worth every bit of it.

tagging @kellielovesmovies because <3 also HAPPY BIRTHDAY QUEEN!!!!!

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 11/21/2023

awful lot of cooking content from me, who hates cooking but finds the evenings jittery and boring

listening

Doorbell by Sterling Press, off the spotify weekly recced playlist. i don't know that i like this song. i don't know that it's particularly good. goddamn if it isn't catchy. alt britpop, they hate being compared to blur but mmmm. you do hear it. notes of ska as well. a song to blast in your car when your spring break plans fell through and you're driving to the good target two towns away from your hometown.

i don't think this music video could have existed pre-pandemic-- idk doorbell cams were that ubiquitous or well known, despite heavy advertising from nest.

from an interview:

Speaking about the new release, they said, “We wrote the song in our mates garage using drum samples off YouTube. We spent all night writing it then in the early hours of the morning drove to Maccies to have breakfast and had it on repeat the whole time. We all fell in love with it straight away. These lyrics speak to the importance of authenticity and sincerity in your actions. In a world where appearances and pretences can be misleading, it's a reminder to be true to yourself and to avoid trying to impress others for the sake of it. “I feel like its an experience we all share. We all know someone who goes off to uni or gets a new job and you bump into them on the street and they act as if they have no idea who you are. I guess this song is reflection of our frustrations towards those people.”

they have what i would consider an unusual amount of hype and presence for a band that has exactly three songs out, but they've all been making music together and separately since well before the pandemic so maybe they've just finally broken out? i can't figure out who these kids are related to. i don't think it's a full on industry plant but i do think someone's dad has some money.

a friend once said she hated how eighties songs faded out like a printer running out of ink, and i do not particularly care for how 2020s songs end with the entire band vanishing underwater.

this song is truly not that deep but it is thoroughly stuck in my goddamn head.

listening: special podcast edition

i am not looking for solutions. do not say solutions at me. i am taking through a brain thing and having a weird workflow and brain problem. i have tried other apps with browser support and do not like them, and i cannot have my personal apple id tied to my work computer bc i have and frequently use a work apple id.

i have been listening to podcasts through Spotify ever since mmm november ‘20. it has not been a good experience but juggling the Apple Podcasts app through my phone (distraction minefield) and whatever im listening to or working on with the work computer is a nightmare. ethics of spotify aside, it is a tremendously successful all in one listening platform. i do not have the brainspace to manage my own music library, and support my favorite artists in other ways.

i am not looking for solutions. do not say solutions at me.

however, if you listen to enough podcast episodes, spotify does not seem to believe you when you tell it to unfollow a podcast. it just keeps letting you know hey this has a new episode. this got me stuck on a loop where i was listening to more and more episodes of two very prolific conspiracy theory debunking podcasts to the exclusion of almost everything else. this was not very good for my mental health.

i am not looking for solutions. do not say solutions at me.

despite the real annoyance of finagling a very distracting phone and the work laptop, i have gone back to Apple Podcasts and (after weeding out a variety of podcasts for a variety of reasons) started listening to friends at the table again. not sure why i stopped but i felt a weird amount of guilt around restarting?? the tablefriends neither know nor care. i have finally finished road to palisade and am excited but nervous about starting palisade proper

-

reading

a local religious thrift store has absolutely rancid vibes but does regularly have 6/$1 book sales. there were a couple older trade paperback comics the last time: the first three volumes of ULTIMATE XMEN and a radom What If? superman.

my trouble with the xmen, and i have to read something from it once every two years to remind myself, is that magneto is right. they will never be able to assimilate into white picket fence middle america, or even among the liberal coastal elites or whatever the term du jour was in 1999. the box will always be smaller and you will never be perfect enough. i did not enjoy this enough to continue bc of this fundamental disagreement with most xmen comics.

also it looks like this. magneto’s lair has an arch in the shape of the arch on the front of his helmet and that was pretty baller, but there’s a real. what was they gimmick blog about all the comic book women in contorted spine-breaking poses? it’s like that a lot. WHAT is ororo’s body doing there

-

watching

hey. what the fuck do you mean tomato sauce is that easy. i dislike tomato sauce and almost exclusively eat jar upon jar of aldi brand pesto. im not allergic bc tomatoes aren't tingly but it's just sort of Nothing all the time. what do you mean it can be good???

i don't actually remember why i'm subscribed to mr internet shaquille. perhaps, like so many other food things, it's kali's fault.

-

playing

g/enshinposting.

pulled this horrid little brat. very pleased with myself.

i do not. love. her story quest. it falls into the childrens' media trap of Sometimes It's Okay For Other People To Stomp All Over Your Boundaries If It's For The Good Of The Group! or perhaps this is just a thing i'm particularly twitchy about. either way, annoyed that other characters of this importance have gotten some deeply moving writing and so far furina has...not gotten that.

the next character i am excited about is lolita taylor swift, or geo-aligned lady with big fuckoff sword. from some early maybe-leaks i think she would pair beautifully with my playstyle and my pirate lady with big sword. my playstyle is mostly brute force damage. i hit things as hard as i can until they fall over and i've played the entire game (with some exceptions that required actual thinking about elemental reactions) that way. it pleases me.

re: the conclusion of the annapausis sidequest, genshin does a really good job of teasing out "ok in a world with actual gods, what does spirituality look like/what are the differing views on fate/how do people make sense of an afterlife". mostly this is gnosticism. and sometimes it's a real life occultist secret society (reskinned Rosicrucianism). fascinating writing choices.

-

making

turkey cottage pie with scalloped potatoes, bc i had a five-pound bag of russets that were starting to sprout. im just going to yoink this pic i posted earlier bc it is now half gone and in tupperware form

this is the first time ive ever cooked in a dutch oven and im in love. i thrifted this for $20 some weeks ago but bc the lid has some chips and rust i haven't used it. which is silly, bc the body of the oven is fine. de-rusting and seasoning the lid will wait for a day when i actually need it bc for now we can get by with doubled-over sheet of aluminum foil.

used this recipe: only had a pound of ground turkey and liberally stretched it with potatoes (i think about three and a half pounds out of five) and three pounds out of a cheap frozen veggie mix bag. did not include mushrooms bc i did not like them. threw in some bay leaves bc i have a giant bag of them, i think i almost doubled the wine bc i doubled the recipe, but i do not think i remembered to double the beef stock. i also shook in a liberal amount of italian seasoning bc i have a cheap jar from aldi i want to use up.

the final product was somewhat soupy. i anticipated that slicing the potatoes was going to be the longest part (mostly true, i had to take breaks) and kept them in a big bowl of cold water to stop them browning while i chopped and after i blanched them. i also could have reduced the filling down some more but i am not a patient woman.

not as intended but still yummy, which was a lovely surprise bc usually when i fuck recipes up i fuck them up But Good. plus new technique (dutch oven). if i make this again (likely) i will do instant potatoes on top bc this was a fuck of a lot of chopping for one recipe. thinking about getting one of those stupid little hand smash veggie choppers bc a full food processor is extremely out of budget.

[k3fanblog]

Best K3 song bracket!

Don't ask me how long this took

Overview group stage post

Overview group stage B post

Overview bracket round 1 post

Overview bracket round 2 post

Overview bracket round 3 post

Overview bracket round 4 post

Overview quarter finals post

Overview semi-finals post

Overview finals post

Results!!!

So, ever since we got polls, I've been wanting to do more K3 polls and so I thought, what about a song tournament? But K3 has 285 songs, which is a bit impractical, so I thought maybe just the singles, but those are somewhere between 96 and 116, which is also not useful. So, I thought, what I do all those 96 singles and then add 32 more songs to it to make 128 which is a power of 2 and hence perfect for a bracket!

So that's what I did...

We will pick these 32 songs out of the other 189 K3 songs, through 20 polls of each 9 or 10 options, the winner of each poll will continue to the main bracket, but the 2nd and 3rd place of each poll will also continue to 4 other polls of 10 songs, of which the best 3 all continue to the main bracket.

I have a scheme:

(The colours are to divide the different 'eras' of K3, every generation is its own era except the og, because I always feel like the first 5 albums have different vibes from the last 4. This way I could make sure the eras were evenly divided over the polls.)

So, how will this work?

I will post the group polls over the coming week, 3 polls a day and they will all run for a week. After that I will post the first round of the bracket over 8 days (which means 8 polls a day), and I'll also all make them last a week. Eventually in later rounds I'll probably switch to 1 day polls, but I want everyone initially to get a chance to vote even if they find the tournament after a few days. I will tag all polls with #Best K3 song bracket.

FAQ:

How did you seed the bracket?

I seeded the songs based on number of Spotify plays, which has its limitations (not all songs are on Spotify for one), but felt fairer than using my own preferences and using Youtube views would be difficult because there are more versions from each song. There are 2 exceptions to this, after I finished putting everything in, I moved Willem-Alexander and Koning Willem-Alexander to be against each other in round 1, because I thought that would be funny and I swapped K3 Kan Het! and Toveren, because it didn't feel fair to put Toveren up to Superhero in the first round (I feel like it is more popular than Spotify shows).

How did you determine what songs are singles?

A combination of the Discografie van K3 Wikipedia page and looking at what songs have video clips. With clips from specials it was a bit confusing, because not all felt like they should be counted as singles? However the group stage should make sure all actual popular songs get through to the main bracket.

Why is this in English?

Because I want to leave the option open for international people to be(come) K3 fans.

What happens if a poll ends in a tie?

I will let them face off in a 1-day poll, if that doesn’t give a winner, both will continue.

What will you do after this tournament ends?

I polled my followers a few weeks ago to see if they’d be interested in seeing a bracket of only kkj, respectively hmk and hmj songs, as the og is pretty heavily favoured and I thought it would be cool to give the newer songs a place to shine, so I will continue with those (much smaller) tournaments

This will be added to

[trans-xianxian]

mahonia, camellia, and sage!

mahonia ⇢ what place, thing, activity inspires you most and how do you express yourself when it does?

mm well obviously other media inspires me to create. I make so much art about cql because it just gives me a million thoughts in my brain and I have to get them out, and music and poetry inspires me even further to create things about that media. my little comics are all about the intersection between what I feel about cql and how songs or poems make me feel about those feelings. I'd say that my own experience are what inspire me most to write tho. my wei wuxian fic is so much based on my own experiences with growth and healing and sorrow, and when my mom was dying, and after she died, it was so much easier to say how I felt about grief and anger and the struggle to forgive someone who is dead via jiang cheng, than to try and explain anything about my own life

camellia ⇢ what were you like when you were younger? do you think you’ve changed a lot?

hmmm as a kid I was very curious and talkative and opinionated. I remember chasing a neighbor kid out of our yard with a bat and yelling at him when I was like 5 because he had tried to hit our chickens with the bat and that "wasn't nice". so yeah I'd say I'm pretty much the same

sage ⇢ what ‘medium’ of art (poetry, music, fiction, paintings, statues etc.) is the most touching to you? why do you think that is?

wugh I love them all and they all speak to me in different ways, but music usually makes me the most emotional and is the medium I connect w other people the most through, like I have so many songs or musical experiences that are foundations in my relationships w others. I was in choir in middle school and in high school I did my final in junior year on the power of creating music in a group setting. I think one of the most primal, fundamental human experiences is to create music. before speech came melody. my sister used to sing me to sleep when I was little, my mom always played a lot of music growing up, and I remember singing with my dad as he played guitar a lot through my childhood and adolescence, so it probably stems from those early experiences with music. in middle school I often found that sharing and enjoying music with other people was the easiest way to connect with them when I didn't know how to say the words. as you can tell from my extensive, curated, and very specific spotify playlists, music is also one of the easiest ways for me to sort out my feelings about experiences or relationships or fictional characters. I also cry about songs all the time. cried about songs today in fact

I do think tho that the easiest ways for me to express my own feelings via creation is through physical art and writing. I'm not very good at making or writing my own original music, but I find it very easy to be creative with art and writing, I think because with art I can show what I can't explain with imagery, and with writing I can be as wordy as I want, put my big vocabulary to good use to make other people feel what I feel